#very refined vinny

[animals-in-old-films]

The eponymous raven in The Raven (1963)

[yuukei-yikes]

i was thinking abt how ayano and shintaro r the only two characters who ever die by suicide (shintaro is only in some routes but STILL.) and like how that's a way of showing that they had the potential to understand each other (bc in my opinion they r actually very similar) but not until either of them were dead. idk does this make sense? i just thought of this today so this thought isnt very refined yet i need to think abt it more

they ARE similar!!!!! i totally agree. shintaro and ayano are totally similar people. they're both Justice Seekers but are so depressed and have such horrible self worth they can't actually be proactive about things. but then they are :3

i wish we got ayano pov from hs and why she liked shintaro. I've always thought ayano's crush on him is...cute!!! because she's literally going thru the horrors, her mom died, her dad is being Strange, and she has to take care of the house and her siblings all alone PLUS later learning of all the horrible stuff about the daze and clearing. and yet. she's also a normal hs girl who has a silly crush on her classmate. not that we ever saw it but i definitely think ayano got to see at least once the shintaro we see who fights for good and doesn't let fear get to him like when he yells at the fucking terrorists or acts all cool when they face clearing in the novels. i think ayano got to see shintaro being Heroic or whatever and she was like THIS is the kind of guy we need to be recruiting in the mekakushi dan🔥🔥🔥 like seriously im delusional abt this but i think there should be a shinaya backstory abt this.

man i wish we saw more hs shinaya😭😭😭😭😭 im so mad that they only ever show shintaro being a fucking asshole lord in hs like im not rooting for you bitch FAST FORWARD NOW but the fact ayano knows shintaro likes music and shoujo manga etcetc its clear ayano and shintaro had normal ass conversations all the time. SHOW THEM TO MEEEEEE whatever. i dont even care <- cares

anyways i just wanted to say i think ayano does Kind of understand shintaro. i also wish we saw ayano think of shintaro in the entire conjecture with clearing eyes killing haruka and takane and her sacrificing herself for them and the mekatrio. Go listen to full disclosure from steven universe and you will understand my ayano vision for this. sorry that was weird. i think ayano wanted to keep shintaro as uninvolved as possible, haruka and takane were inevitably already in it. she just wanted to make sure to take them Out of it but shintaro.. i think ayano always had the feeling shintaro would get involved. i think ayano gravitates towards shintaro because she needed help and she needed a hero and deep down she knew this was him. but she never manages to properly reach out or even understand it i guess. but i think ayano did understand shintaro maybe even more he understood himself. on the other hand shintaro DID NOT understand ayano AT ALL but like you said, he could have. who knows how things had gone if shintaro had walked in when he saw ayano crying in the classroom!!! imagine ayano managing to pour her heart out and tell him what's gonna happen to their friends and her family. he would've helped. shintaro would've done something. but ayano wouldn't want him to bc he would get hurt but at the same time she WOULD want him to because she's so scared and alone and desperate for help *holds head *

also i always make myself insane abt shintaro and ayano being depressed legends who wanna die. while haruka and takane struggle with health problems and want to Live So Badly. sorry for bringing up harutaka Hi its me tumblr user yuukei yikes vinnie i will ALWAYS make it about harutaka. i just wanted to say that. shinaya who wanna die and tragedy arises from never meeting in the middle and not being able to understand each other vs harutaka who wanna live more than anything and tragedy arises from being forcibly separated.

ayano's words to takane when she's projecting so hard. there are times you want to tell someone something but you wind up being too late. ayano was never gonna say anything to shintaro because she didnt Want to. she knew what she was going to the roof for. while takane immediately makes a run for it to say something to haruka, she is just too late and has no control over her fate. whatever im normal!

[ritzbernal]

Regrets and Realizations

So I need to do work but I have to let this out my system so I can focus (ehem let's see). It's been on my mind for a whole week already! I, uhm, am not really a writer but Vincenzo forced me to be one. Read at your own risk 🤣

Takes places after episode 16 after threatening Jang Han Seok and Choi Myung Hee. Vincenzo coming face to face with regrets of losing his mom and realizing how he doesn't want to lose Cha Young.

Read in ao3

----------

"Regret is the most painful thing in life."

These words echo in Vincenzo's head as he was driving back to the hospital after his encounter with the Babel quartet. He says it so often to people as advice yet with himself, he doesn't know how it applies. Maybe because the life he led in Italy allows him not to have regrets.

Anger. That's all he felt for his mother before he learned the truth. The truth that she left him in the orphanage not because she didn't love him, but because she had cancer. She was afraid to leave his son dying so she chose to send him away.

I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise that I'd come for you soon.

He learned that she looked for him for several years and that after everything that has happened, she still loves him.

There hasn't been a single day that I haven't thought about you.

And now all he felt was regret. Yes he killed the man who killed his mother in front of Jang Han Seok and Choi Myung Hee, but it is not enough. They have crossed Vincenzo and there's no other way for them but down.

He recalled the days when he visits his mom and during those days, Cha Young was with him. Hong Cha Young. She is the reason why he chose to forgive his mother. Because of her, he got to spend a few intimate hours with her - taking selca together, buying her bunggeopang, buying her a bag, taking a stroll with her. If it weren't this strong-willed lawyer who was always by his side, he wouldn't get to spend those precious moments with her. She has slowly become his rock, his foundation, his reason to fight. She supported him even when she knew his deeds.

This made him think of what could have Cha Young felt when her father was intentionally killed by Wusang and Babel. He wasn't even there for her when it happened. He even told her that she should have been a good daughter sooner. It must have been hard for her then. He gripped the steering wheel while he thought of Cha Young in his shoes months ago. If there's anyone who can understand him now, it's Cha Young. And if there's someone who can understand Cha Young, it's him. Funny how their circumstances parallel each other.

-----------

Vincenzo arrives at the hospital with blood on his hands and neck. His white shirt stained with the blood of his mother's murderer. As he went out of his car to get inside the hospital, he took his phone from his coat and called Cha Young. She picked up at the first ring.

"Where are you? Are you okay?" Her voice is filled with worry, fear, and relief. Fear that something might have happened to him without her saying how much he means to her and relief that he finally called, that somehow he's not in danger.

"Byeonhosa-nim." Vincenzo said with the hint of tiredness and loneliness. His tone was cold and void of emotion.

"Yes. Where are you? Did you make him pay? I convinced the staff to wait a little while before proceeding with cremation. Mr. Nam and I will take care of the papers, don't worry. Where are you?" Cha Young said in a single breath. She shuffled outside the morgue to see if Vincenzo has arrived at the hospital.

"Byeonhosa-nim. I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what? What's wrong? Where are you right now?" He can sense the worry in her voice. He knows she's acting strong but inside she's crumbling for Oh Gyeong Ja's unfair death. Vincenzo now taking the stairs to where Cha Young is. It's good that there were few people in that part of the building at that time. He would have caused a commotion with how he looks right now.

"Make sure you catch him. No, make him pay." Cha Young's words assured him that she trusts him, that she will stay with him no matter how many crimes he commit. Her words were the catalyst for him to make pay whoever did that to his mom. Then he remembered his thoughts during the car ride. He wasn't there for her. But Cha Young chose to be the bigger person and reminded him that regret is the most painful thing in life.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when Mr. Hong passed away. I even amplified that you were not a good daughter to your dad. And yet here you are with me. I really don't deserve you." His tone became soft as he apologize to Cha Young.

"Yah. This is not the time to be saying such things," she said gritting her teeth. "Byeonhosa-nim, please, I just need to know where you are right now and that you are safe," her voice cracking.

The last time he heard her almost crying was when the victim's family was unrightfully murdered. How he wants to hug then, to comfort her, yet he chose not to. He was afraid to overstep the boundaries. But right now, all he wants to do is hug her and not let her go.

Vincenzo spots Cha Young half crying outside the morgue, speaking to him on the phone. He should be the one emotional right now, but Cha Young looked like she was the one who lost a mother. With light steps he walked towards her. She was too preoccupied with their conversation that she didn't notice Vincenzo was already behind her.

"Vincenzo Cassano, where-" Vincenzo ended the call and placed his phone inside his coat.

"Yah!" Cha Young half cried half shouted on the phone. Tears were already welling in her eyes. Then without a word, he swiftly went and hugged her from behind, engulfing her in his embrace. His bloodied hand on her waist; his face buried in her neck. He took the phone from her right hand, tucked it inside her the pocket of her pants and then gently moved his hand back to her waist.

"Byeonhosa-nim. What are you doing?" She wants to turn around but Vincenzo's arms is tight around her.

"Back to byeonhosa-nim again? I'm sorry. This must have been how you felt before. I feel terrible."

"Yah. Don't make me cry anymore. Listen, it's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself. Let's not talk about that. Are you hurt somewhere?" Then Vincenzo loosen his arms from her and Cha Young was able to free herself from Vincenzo. She turned around to look at him. Gone is the cold gaze before he left earlier. With shaking hands he searched his arms, his torso and his chest to see if he has any injury. Aside from a few bruises on his fingers, thankfully he's not hurt anywhere else. Finally she settled her right hand on his face with an attempt to wipe away the blood stains.

Vincenzo was looking at her intently the entire time she was searching his body for any injury. This is the closest physically they have been after their charade as a couple. His left hand went to caress that Cha Young's hand and leaned his head. Her hands are warm on his cold cheeks. He closed his eyes and he spoke, "I'm fine."

"I was so worried. Why would you end the call without saying something?" She removed her hands from his cheeks to hit him in the shoulders just as she did before when she's irritated or excited. But he was quicker and took her hand back to his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now."

"Will you please stop saying sorry?" Now they are looking at each other's eyes. The tension between them building up.

"Thank you for staying with my mom."

"I'm returning the favor. You stayed with my dad when I was busy fighting against him. Let's go in." She said changing the topic and dragging Vincenzo by the hand enter the morgue and say his final goodbye to his mom.

"Byeonhosa-nim," he said keeping her from walking, "today I have declared war with Babel. We still have a long war to fight and I don't want to lose you in the process. After mom's funeral, we have to arrange things so I can keep an eye on you. Either I stay in your house or you stay in my apartment." There was a pause and sigh before he uttered, "I can't lose you, too."

"Why?" she asked not looking at him. I can't lose you too. His words echo in her head. Something in her anticipate that he will confess his feelings for her. He's been very subtle about his words and actions towards her but this hug means something else. She wants him to acknowledge his feelings and accept that he deserves love.

"Just agree please and don't ask anymore questions." Because I love you, Hong Cha Young, in his mind he said. But these are the words she was not expecting. Maybe he needs more time. He just lost his mom. I need to stay with him. She sighed and said, "Okay. We'll stay at my house."

---------

So I finished it at last! It's my first fic in long time (oh the power that Vincenzo has). I figured Vinnie will save the confession a little later because what will we viewers look forward to? I hope you enjoyed this short fic!

Edit: I refined it a bit? LOL I might be writing the continuation of this. Chayenzo in Cha Young's house.

Here is Part 2!

[charmmycolour]

I posted 2384 times in 2021

40 posts created (2%)

2344 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 58.6 posts.

I added 167 tags in 2021

#milo murphy's law - 20 posts

#balthazar cavendish - 20 posts

#mml - 20 posts

#vinnie dakota - 19 posts

#dakavendish - 19 posts

#archive of our own - 17 posts

#ao3 - 17 posts

#my fic - 12 posts

#balthazar cavendish/vinnie dakota - 12 posts

#fic - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 59 characters

#when i get enough courage to infodumping in the first place

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Milo Murphy's Law Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota, Balthazar Cavendish & Vinnie Dakota Characters: Balthazar Cavendish, Vinnie Dakota, Savannah (Milo Murphy's Law), Brick (Milo Murphy's Law), Milo Murphy, Melissa Chase, Zack Underwood, Sara Murphy, Heinz Doofenshmirtz, Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb), Amanda Lopez, Mr. Block (Milo Murphy's Law), Elliot Decker, Aloyse "Rodney" von Roddenstein, Orville von Roddenstein, Calvin the Cat | Agent Kitty (Phineas and Ferb), Dennis (Milo Murphy's Law), Hildegard (Milo Murphy's Law), Gretchen (Milo Murphy's Law) Additional Tags: POV Multiple, Post-Season/Series 02, Angst and Feels, Some Humor, Domestic Bliss, Drama & Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Action, Time Travel, Denial of Feelings, Amnesia, Mystery, Secrets, Shock, Revelations, Separation Anxiety, Developing Relationship, Creative License, Alternate Universe, Psychological Drama, Abusive Parents, Backstory, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex

Summary:

After Cavendish and Dakota get involved on a mission of the Bureau of Time Travel by accident, a series of unfortunate events tear them apart from each other.

Now, they must figure out what is truly important for them and what they are willing to do to achieve it.

------------------------------------------------

39 notes • Posted 2021-01-23 02:56:14 GMT

#4

So like a millon years ago I used to do art and stuff...

(This drawing is actually from @lonelylittleships, I just did the digital color)

70 notes • Posted 2021-10-15 01:22:20 GMT

#3

could you please do 🧬 cavendish and dakota

I’m not very good doing fusions, sorry! I hope this is good enough.

(From this request list.)

81 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 02:51:29 GMT

#2

I’m VERY excited to announce a big, big project I have been working on for months (last March/July, go figure!)

A Normal Life is a story that includes a fic, for which more than a thousand pages had been already written; plus several pieces of art including chapter illustrations and concept art. With the help of my beloved Team Cavota server, I have been refining the concept and working hard on creating a unique experience. Though I have done projects before that were pure love children (Lonely Together comes to mind the most), ANL will elevate the stakes in terms of plot and the intrinsic mystery is building. I hope whatever decides to read it funds it interesting.

This cover has been carefully crafted, and is full of details and references I hope you can speculate about. Anything interesting you catch, I’ll be very excited to hear!

I want to send a huge thanks to all my readers that keep encouraging me to write. To everyone in the Team Cavota server (even people that left) for their invaluable help and support. And of course, @jcmorrigan who is still the reason I am an author and today I can share this cover with you.

Thank you all.

I hope you have fun digging for clues 🧸

94 notes • Posted 2021-01-14 02:03:13 GMT

#1

Ta-da!

I have made this humble fanart for my friend (and angel) @lonelylittleships, based on her amazing fic Mysterious Music!

It’s an incredible story with a nice mystery, a lot of wonderful interactions and, of course, full of Dakavendish vibes. I’m really honored to have been given the opportunity to illustrate this piece, and I hope you like it.

Can you guess what is Cavendish so scared of?

Thanks for the collab! I love the story.

107 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 15:41:57 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[frankiefellinlove]

These were the times...

On April 10 2014 the legendary E Street Band

Was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame.

Bruce Springsteen made the Induction Speech.

In the beginning, there was Mad Dog Vincent Lopez, standing in front of me, fresh out of jail, his head shaved, in the Mermaid Room of the Upstage Club in Asbury Park. He told me that he had a money-making outfit called Speed Limit 25, they were looking for a guitarist, and was I interested? I was broke, so I was. So the genesis point of the E Street Band was actually a group that Vini Lopez asked me to join to make a few extra dollars on the weekend.

Shortly thereafter, I met Dan Federici. He was draped in a three quarter-length leather, had his red hair slicked back. His wife Flo, she was decked out in a blonde bouffant wig, and they were straight out of Flemington, New Jersey. [Cheers] Whoa! Flemington!

Vini, Danny, myself, along with bass player Vinnie Roslin, were shortly woodshedding out of a cottage on the main street of a lobster-fishing town, Highlands, New Jersey. I first saw Garry Tallent along with Southside Johnny when they dragged two chairs onto an empty dance floor as I plugged my guitar into the Upstage wall of sound. I was the new kid in a new town, and these were the guys who owned the place, and they sat back and looked at me like, "Come on, come on, punk, bring it — let's see what you got." And I reached back, and I burnt their house down.

But predating all of this was Steve Van Zandt. Singer! Frontman! Frontman! He was the frontman — I walked into the Middletown Hullabaloo Club, he was the frontman for a band called The Shadows. He had on a tie that went from here down to his feet. All I remember is that he was singing The Turtles' "Happy Together." During a break — at the Hullabaloo Club in New Jersey, you played 55 minutes on and five minutes off, and if there was a fight, you had to rush back onstage and start playing again. So I met Stevie there, and he soon became my great... bass player first, then great guitarist. My consigliere, he's my dependable devil’s advocate whenever I need one. He is the invaluable ears for everything that I create — I always get a hold of him — and fan number one. He's my comic foil onstage, my fellow producer/arranger, and my blood, blood, blood, blood, blood brother, for so long. So, Stevie, let’s keep rolling for as many lives as they’ll give us, alright?

Years and bands went by: Child, Steel Mill, the Bruce Springsteen Band... they were all some combo of the above-mentioned gang. Then I scored a solo recording contract with Columbia Records, and I argued to get to choose my recording "sidemen" — which was a misnomer, in this case, if there ever was one. So, I chose my band, and my great friends, and we finally landed on E Street. A rare, rock 'n' roll hybrid of solo artistry and a true rock 'n' roll band.

But one big thing was missing.

So! It was a dark and stormy night! [Laughs] As a Nor’easter rattled the street lamps of Kingsley Blvd! And in walked Clarence Clemons. I'd been enthralled by the sax sounds of King Curtis and Junior Walker and had searched for years for a great rock 'n' roll saxophonist, and that night Clarence walked in, walked towards the stage, and he rose, towering to my right on the Prince's tiny stage, about the size of this podium, and then he unleashed the force of nature that was the sound and the soul of the Big Man. In that moment, I knew that my life had changed. Miss you, love you, Big Man — we wish you were here with us tonight. This would mean a great, great deal to Clarence.

An honorable mention and shout-out to Ernie "Boom" Carter, the drummer who played on one song only: "Born to Run." He picked a good one, he picked a good one. So here's to you, Ernie. Thank you, thank you.

And thank you of course to Max Weinberg and Roy Bittan, who answered an ad in the Village Voice, and they beat out 60 other drummers and keyboardists for the job. It was the indefatigable, almost dangerously dedicated Mighty Max Weinberg and the fabulous flying fingers of Professor Roy Bittan. They refined and they defined the sound of the E Street Band that remains our calling card around the world to this day. Thank you, Roy. Thank you, Max. They are my professional hitmen! Love you both.

Then, ten years later, Nils Lofgren and Patti Scialfa joined just in time to assist us in the rebirth of Born in the U.S.A. Nils, one of the world's great, great rock guitarists with the choir boy’s voice, has given me everything he’s had for the past 30 years. Thank you, Nils. So much love.

And Patti Scialfa, a Jersey Girl, came down one weekend from New York City and sat in with a local band, Cats on a Smooth Surface and Bobby Bandiera at the Stone Pony, and she sang a killer version of The Exciters' "Tell Him." She had a voice that was filled with a little Ronnie Spector, a little Dusty Springfield, and a lot of something that was her very, very own. After she was done, I walked up, I introduced myself to her at the back bar. We grabbed a couple of stools and we sat there for the next hour — or 30 years or so [laughs]. Talked about music and everything else. So we added my lovely red-headed woman, and she broke the boys club!

I wanted our band to mirror our audience, and by 1984, that meant grown men and grown women. But, her entrance freaked us out so much that the opening night of the Born in the U.S.A. tour, I asked her to come in to my dressing room and see what she was gonna wear. And she had on kind of a slightly feminine T-shirt, and I stood there, kind of sweating. At my feet, I had a little Samsonite luggage bag that I carried with me, and I kicked it open, and it was full of all my smelly, sweaty T-shirts. And I said, "Just pick one of these [laughs]. It'll be fine!" She's not wearing one tonight. But Patti, I love you, thank you for your beautiful voice, you changed my band and my life. Thank you, honey. Thank you for our beautiful children.

Real bands: real bands are made primarily from the neighborhood. From a real time and a real place that exists for a little while, then changes, and is gone forever. They're made from the same circumstances, the same needs, the same hungers, culture, from the same need for a love to cover over hurt. They're forged in the search of something more promising then what you were born into. These are the elements, the tools, and these are the people who built a place called E Street.

Now, E Street was a dance, was an idea, was a wish, was a refuge, was a home, was a destination, was a gutter dream, and finally, it was a band. We struggled together, and sometimes we struggled with one another. We bathed in the glory and often the heartbreaking confusion of our rewards together. We’ve enjoyed health, and we've suffered illness and aging and death together. We took care of one another when trouble knocked, and we hurt one another in big and small ways.

But in the end, we kept faith with each other. And one thing is for certain: as I've said before in reference to Clarence Clemons, I told a story with the E Street Band that was and is bigger than I ever could have told on my own. And I believe that that settles that question. For that is the hallmark of a rock 'n' roll band: the narrative you tell together is bigger than any one of you could have told on your own. That’s the Rolling Stones. That's the Sex Pistols. That's Bob Marley... and the Wailers. That's James Brown... and his Famous Flames. That's Neil Young and Crazy Horse. So, I thank you, my beautiful men and women of E Street. You made me dream and love bigger than I ever could have without you.

And tonight I stand here with just one regret. That's that Danny and Clarence can't be with us tonight. Sixteen years ago, a few evenings before my own induction, I stood in my own darkened kitchen along with Steve Van Zandt. Steve was just returning to the band, after a 15-year hiatus, and he was petitioning me to push the Hall of Fame to induct all of us together. And I listened, and the Hall of Fame had its rule, and I was proud of my independence. We hadn't played together in ten years, we were somewhat estranged. We were just taking the first small steps of reforming, and we didn't know what the future would bring. And perhaps a shadow of the some of the old grudges still held some sway. It was a conundrum, because we'd never been quite fish nor fowl. And Steve was quiet, but persistent, and at the end of our conversation he just said, "Yeah, yeah, I understand... but Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band — that's the legend."

So I’m proud to induct, into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, booty-shaking, love-making, earth-quaking, Viagra-taking, testifying, death-defying, legendary E Street Band!

[treason-and-plot]

(very long) REPLIES TO VINNIE & GEORGINA IN THE CAR PART 1

@mochasims

lawd the expression on his face. eek! curious to see if her explanation will fly. kinda sweet that his hands were shaking. i'm thinking (hoping) he'll forgive her.

He really does love her. Which is why her betrayal hurt so much.

@miraakles

Coommmeee onnnn Vinniiieee!! If you don't forgive her and bring my ship back to life I swear i'll send Anita after you!! Remember Georgina, he leaves here with you! The easy way or the hard way!

@thewynd

OMG his face in that last shot. I imagine Georgina is quivering as much as he is. Really hoping for a happy ending here...

@streetlightaurora

YOU CAN DO IT GEORGIE!

@shhhushhh

😑 Stay strong, Vinnie! Do not yield!!

@parystrange

Yes Vinnie, remember that this is the Georgina who thought so little of you that she clearly stated you had no class or refinement and were too beneath her to have an affair with, rather than stand her ground and be proud to be in a relationship with you.

@sweetnovember77

Yipes! It can be intimidating to make a difficult apology. I would imagine that both Georgina and Vinnie feel nervous. Hopefully, Georgina really figured out what she wants to say because trust takes time, and Vinnie ain’t got a lot of time. 😂 At least, not on this day.

I think Georgina would have travelled in the back of the car though to the girl’s job if that was what it took. Once Vinnie let her in the car, she wasn’t going to get out! 

@mochasims

ha! put up or shut up

@wannabecatwriter

Good plan.

Vinnie’s mama didn’t raise no fool!! 

@phoenixfg

He is not playing around!! I love it!!

@muses-circle

Oh, this should be good. *smirk*

@skyburned

Once she takes that step, her whole life will change, and probably not really in the way she wants it to.  She still wants it both ways.

So true!! I was so proud of her for taking that leap. It was touch and go whether she actually would, tbh.

@stsciurussimblr

Even harder than Georgina thought it would be!

So, so true! But I’m so proud she didn’t falter.

@streetlightaurora

Vinnie isn't doing this shit again XD

Vinnie’s a go hard or go home kind of guy ;=)

@gaiahypothesims

Ooh man! But really a step she needs to take. Hiding behind being responsible for her mother’s decisions is enabling her mother and keeping her from growing up.

@winifredwoogie

Vinnie is right. If she truly means it, she will make that call. As my mom eloquently put it, "piss or get off the pot".

@justanothersimsblog

Bombs about to drop!

I’m snickering in a very immature fashion about this comment in the light of @winifredwoogie‘s comment above...isn’t another variation shit or get off the pot??

@miraakles

Man.. He better actually get with her if she does it.. the weight of an alcoholic is a lot to bear, and freaking Georgina has been carrying the weight of her mother's addiction for years.. I get he's hurt and angry.. but this is something he's gonna need to be there to support her with.. cause like... If he has her do this and then kicks her to the curb to deal with things, that's just not fair! Georgina needs someone there for her, she's honestly been alone.

Thank you for being such a compassionate and empathetic reader, Elizabeth! I always look forward to your comments💖

@thewynd

I hope he understands what he is asking and that she follows through. This won't be easy for Georgina because no one has really pushed her in this way but in the end, if he doesn't kick her to the curb, they will have a lot of healing ahead of them.

I think Vinnie fully understands. And he might even believe he is helping Bunty too. 

@sweetnovember77

I agree with @mochasims It’s about time that Georgina puts her money where her mouth is.

Yep, she has had an easy ride for too long! Put up or shut up, Georgie!!

@dandylion240

Good for Vinnie! Make her do it where he can see and hear her do it. For that matter he should make her put the call on speaker phone that he'd know it really was her mother and not Roy or someone pretending on the other end.

The idea of Roy impersonating Bunty cracked me up!! But I’m pretty sure Vinnie would have put Bunty on speaker. Just for his peace of mind ;=)

@parystrange

The statement about him feeling worthless breaks my heart. I couldn't imagine ever being with someone who had said those things about me. Someone who professed to have loved me.

@shhhushhh

Oh, that's edgy but totally understandable of his side. She was so quick back then to save her face, and she should be as quick to save his face now. Why do I doubt it though... 🤔

@kscriba

DO IT GEORGINA

@rillensora

@miraakles I totally agree with you! I think a lot of people in the comments are being overly harsh to Georgina, temporarily forgetting the fact that the burden of an alcoholic, narcissistic mother has been hers to bear for as long as she can remember. This is the woman who was the first human being Georgie got to know, who has had an indelible stamp on Georgie's entire outlook on life. This is  the hardest thing Vinnie can ask her to do.

@rillensora

At the same time, it's also the most important thing Vinnie can ask of Georgie. It may not be necessarily Georgie's fault, but if she can't put her foot down at SOME point, this pattern (of her not being able to prioritize the right people and things in her life) will continue. There is no point in this relationship continuing any further if she isn't at least willing to TRY what Vinnie is asking of her.

This is a watershed moment in Georgina’s life in many ways, and she is definitely aware of the significance of what Vinnie is asking her to do. 

@rillensora

That said, I don't think Vinnie will leave her in the lurch. I think he, of all people, knows exactly how hard this will be for Georgie, and he's testing her willingness to withstand the pain. Both for his sake AND her own. He's not being cruel here... quite the opposite, in fact.

And as mentioned earlier, he may even be hoping it benefits  Bunty too!

@alittledaylight

Yep, can't just be words. Follow through, Georgie. It's the only way.

@aminovas

good man, Vinnie! that was well played.

@doka-chan

Biggest respect for Vinnie ! His move is totally logical, he needs proofs.

@mysimsloveaffair

Yikes...scary for her, but I have nothing but respect for Vinnie.

Vinnie might also be one of the smartest characters in my story...;=)

@igglemouse

She better do it!

[meditationadvise]

How Meditating Helps You with Difficult Emotions

How are you feeling? Meditation gives us an opportunity to amuse that inquiry at a deeper degree. It could give us the space to totally experience a feeling for what it is.

Stop being so emotional! When you hear something like that, exactly what can you really do? You can aim to press down on your ins as well as get them to change, yet that resembles playing inner whack-a-mole. Whatever you lower in one location simply appears someplace else. You strive to relax on your own down regarding a snub at job just to locate yourself yelling at your child later on, for essentially no reason.

Emotions are testing, yet why would certainly we intend to quit being psychological? It's our lifeblood. It's exactly what triggers us to obtain up in the morning and go across the road. Even if it were preferable to get rid of them, we 'd have no choice. They belong to our system of noticing and reacting to the globe. Without them, we 'd be robots. Songs would certainly stagnate us. Loss would not affect us. Absolutely nothing would certainly bring us to splits. Absolutely nothing would certainly make us drop laughing.

Nevertheless, feelings can create chaos and also spread pain throughout our lives. And that's where meditation is available in. As opposed to what some individuals believe, meditation does not make us unemotional, nor does it convert all emotion right into fluffyminded bliss. When we're doing mindfulness meditation, if we feel jealous, we feel it: the discomfort, the guilt, the whole enchilada. What additionally happens, however, is that we have a little area around the feeling. We can see it wherefore it is.

For one point, emotions combine ideas (" John just stated something extremely unpleasant") with sensations (a clenched jaw, a grimace). And also the ideas come in fast combinations as well as collect energy. As we meditate, we see this procedure. We observe just how the emotion feels. We're a bit like a researcher, however. Our main work is not to judge it or try to alter it. It is to enjoy, stick with it, and also allow it be.

We can see that the feelings are not long-term, that they are available in waves. Going deeper, we see complex layers. While jealousy might appear completely adverse and unfavorable, we can find an underlying power there that can provide the fuel for ideas and also emulation. If we strip away the damaging, aggressive active ingredient in the feeling, something powerful and useful could stay. This is exactly what it implies to tame our emotions with reflection. We see the possibility of riding their power without damaging others or ourselves. We additionally could pick just how to act, instead of be owned to act. There's an art to it, and also as the professional photographer Annie Liebovitz lately explained, "Art is messy. It is hard."

In this five-part collection, we consider a variety of feelings as well as some introspective techniques to function with them more creatively.

Working with Anger

It could be among the ugliest feelings. It can wreck any kind of situation. If it prowls deep inside and also curdles, it can make us unwell. It also has amazing power.

Anger is a complicated as well as fascinating emotion. We can be resting quietly, evidently tranquil, then the trigger comes--" You recognize, you never ever ..."-- as well as prior to you know it, Mount Vesuvius emerges. Lava is gushing everywhere. People are ducking and also running for capitals. Or possibly your anger is the much more slow-burn style that simmers and also gurgles under the surface, just appearing in small ruptureds of snarkiness.

Anger is fiery. Even when it's chilly, it calls for a great deal of energy, like a refrigeration system. When we take notice of just how it feels in our body, we could discover a knotty tummy, a clenched hand or jaw, rigidity in our upper body. We might observe that the state of anger could highly tint our ideas, as well as we interpret the globe with the lens of our denying mindset. We are sending out the message: "Venture out!"

Deep within the anger, we may be keeping feelings of insufficiency that create us to see hazards as well as oppressions where no real dangers exist. It helps to reveal as well as root out these sensations and also deeply held false sights. At the exact same time, temper could have beneath it a wise as well as effective protectiveness, like the hovering presence of a mom bear or a smart judge implementing justice despite bigotry and also other sickness as well as evils. It's normally very tough to protect what is best or necessary without throwing a little bitterness right into the mix. We could utter a clear "no" when a kid tosses some food in a sibling's face, but possibly (under our breath) we include, "You little brat." Refining our emotions can entail cutting things rather great. The old R&B song obtained it right: "It's a slim line in between love as well as hate."

Rich, facility, as well as powerful, anger benefits from contemplative time and also investigation. There's lots to discover exactly what's taking place underneath our outbursts.

Practice: Exploring Aggression

In a minute when you observe on your own really feeling angry as well as aggressive, turn your focus on the sensation. Where is it in your body? What is going on?

Breathe mindfully for a couple of breaths as you discover your body feelings alter. Pay attention for your thoughts without including to the internal discussion, or aiming to silence your thoughts.

What are your thoughts saying? When you're offended, you're normally holding into a stiff definition of on your own and just what you could fit, so ask yourself "that" is annoyed. Why?

It could take some persistence to stick to the unpleasant sensations, but advise on your own ahead back to observing the rage in this minute with self-compassion as well as discover exactly what your anger has to show you.

If you like, you could do with an aspiration on your own, something that will likewise get several of the self-involvement. You can say to on your own silently, "May I discover the resources to recognize and change my rage," or "May I look after the discomfort I'm really feeling and also care for the pain in others."

More in this series: - The best ways to browse sadness mindfully •Letting go of jealousy •Connecting with love •Lean into your fears

We would certainly enjoy to understand exactly what feelings you wish to function with utilizing mindfulness. Please take the short study listed below:

Create your own user feedback study

Getting Started: Feelings was put together by Barry Boyce, editor-in-chief of Mindful, in consultation with:

Jeffrey Brantley, MD, supervisor of the MBSR program at Fight it out College's Facility for Integrative Medication. Author of Calming Your Angry Mind.

Vinny Ferraro, reflection teacher and elderly trainer, Conscious Schools.

Stefanie Goldstein, Ph.D., professional psycho therapist as well as co-author of the audio program: Mindful Solutions for Dependency and Regression Prevention.

Christa Turksma, child-clinical psycho therapist and also specialist in establishing mindfulness for educators as well as families.

[bluepenguinstories]

Intention Headaches Chapter Three

Hung atop aside, hinged off a chiseled face of a cliff rest a vestige some know as home – a domed structure, bolted on by nails and years of structuring and reconstructing. Inside lie bodies, torsos and limbs, abreast a bereft vestibule. Bodies moving, some stationary. Animated, alive, lively for all the motions and immobile actions.

Without the use of movement, chromatic machinery lit up a main hall, where piles of ancient manuscripts lie among magazines of a bygone era (beside a pile of magazines ready to be loaded into weaponry).

“We have been assigned a new mission,” One such figurehead, poised in such a figurative manner, walked in with a voice of a sultry honey badger in heat.

“Out with it, Virgil!” Roared an uproarious uproar amongst munches of an ultra rare steak. One human poised seated, having counted her losses and after counting her winnings had decided she had earned an ultra rare steak, but therein lies the problem – one should never count winnings amongst their losses.

“Very well,” veracious Virgil henceforth found footing. “Underway, we have been requested to assassinate Hemingway.” Overhead, stiff air in a stuffy room supported a cough. “Should we...?”

“Accept it, dammit!” Growled and howled a huff from a mouth stuffed.

“Now Adeline, I know you have a personal vendetta against the Hemingways, but we must remember those words we read on the side of the mechanic caterpillar, written through the use of an aerosol can. 'Love comes close, but it eludes me'. Do you remember what that means?”

“As our leader has said, 'love is a labor and we are indentured servants'. But I've always hated how she said that! Tryin' to pretty up her words!”

“Yes, and as such, if we deny this mission, we may lose funds for the month. However, if we accept it and fail, we may lose lives in the process as well as our funds. Is such a high risk worth the reward?”

Adeline, fulfilling a carnal desire, tore into the pieces of meat, ravaging and pillaging what once belonged to a cow. Deep down, remnants of cow burrowed within the conscious and melded the mindset, a just cause for such a lass to be on the prowl.

“I know you have been voted best girl in the wake of Virginia's illness, however, she still makes the final decision.”

“She better say yes is all I'm sayin'! After our loss against the Plaths the other night, we gotta show this town our fangs!”

“I will pass that message along and inform you of her decision.”

Virgil walked over to the console just two footprints away, where Adeline could still see. Silent hums from the machine greeted the two. Displayed in the air were options, in which Virgil knew just which combination created the recipe to speak with the ill.

“Dear leader, mission request to assassinate Hemingway. Should we accept it?”

On the other end, crisp and clear as less than apple and closer to day, yet still miles apart, enshrined the vocal choral reef of an undersea beauty. Or, that of a tenor.

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to brew potions. Some drink glitter, I find porcelain dolphins in my lobotomies; vases taped shut to suitcases, some know of my return, but only upon your graves shall I utter the names of all the best breads for those to eat. Under each table are necessary supplies. Glue to hold us all in times where we can feel the cracks from the Earth. Ground beneath our little toesies. We know of the days spent, shrouded in cement, unbearable societies, yet we chisel away. If we are to work as a union, we must commune in each room, rooms of our own.”

“Thank you, miss.”

“I know you all will betray me!”

Adeline was slurping on fat. Loud and clear; queer findings, she heard it all.

“So in other words, yes,” Adeline concluded.

“Indeed,” Virgil was somewhere nearby, having made a reply.

“Excellent!” Added a line, aggressive in the grin department. Teeth spread, some sharpened on the ironing block. Forged ahead was a stomp across the base hall.

Plump aplomb, plum bedsheets plopped a volatile, stomach first, face smushed down against down pillowcases. Middling mutterings uttered outside an open mouth, drool exiting stage right.

“I won't rest until I hear an adverb...”

From outside a room of her own, two shapes with two sets of limbs gestured to one another.

“How could you let her just accept the offer?” Gyrated gruff giving of words.

“Adeline is best girl. It has been decided,” replied other set of limbs.

“That may be so, but look at us! We've taken a shitton o' hits over here! At this rate, we're gonna need new members! Remember when one Ka wanted in? Y'know what Virginia said?”

“'Only fools Russian'?” Virgil took a guess and hit outside the target.

“Excuse, em, me?”

“Apologies. I know no enunciation.”

“Anyway, no! She said, 'we cannot allow practitioners of magic.' Yet magic ain't even a thing! Did'ya see Ka claim to be a churchgoer? Nah! Ka ain't nah churchgoer! Far from, Ka a free woman!”

“Yes, however, Ka married. As she said, 'love is a union inside a megacorporation.' Under those circumstances, suspicion becomes necessary caution.”

Vinny volunteered to vanish; Virgil followed suit. Pinstripe, tuxedo, two-piece. All there inside closets. Both made their turns down the aisles, Virgil reassured.

“I will ensure this mission is as close to success as possible.”

Plan underway, assassinate Hemingway.

Adeline had a way, then lost it. Made one again so as to meet the main hall where members conversed. Virgil, unconsumed with conversation, consumed instead in an ancient manuscript well before days of neon.

“What's that ya got?” the best girl addressed.

“Research material on the Hemingway gang.”

Within Virgil's hands rest a book titled 'The Importance of Being Earnest'.

“What's it say?” Insistence increased.

“Unsure just yet. From what I gather it is a biography on the gang's leader, Ernie.”

“That bastard oughtta gimme an adverb 'fore he bites the dust, all's Im'ma say on that!”

Added to the tension was the pace meat muncher found herself in. Add a line and Adeline followed. Two steps one way, two steps back.

Preceding preparations post-declarations, another bold statement was made:

“Remember: if he breathes, he's a thought.”

“All gang leaders are queens,” Virgil made due diligence to remind those with high steaks.

“This one's diff'rent. Doesn't use adverbs. Shorter than the rest. Merely a thought.”

Virgil nodded a virginal nod. Sole male sorely knew his place.

“I shall sit this one out.”

Fruits of labor at times may involve blue. While quiet and sulfuric as the night, certain arrangements could be made to blue gear armed to the teeth, about 26 of them, give or take a few here and there depending on how many punches had been served. Blue hats, blue vests, blue as their cold, dead hearts.

Knocked upon one door of an aromatic adornment stood a blue, awaiting the pace of a refined romantic enamored with the allure of romance in times of war.

So soon, frozen. Door opened, quiet creak. No bells and whistles. Just wood application.

“Your purpose?”

“I have a report of smuggled narcotics in the area,” blue blathered before blasting barrels of bionic explosives packed into a tangible L-shaped device, small enough to fit inside such small hands.

Swaths of graceful age, reduced to meaty chunks and disintegrated charred bits where once stood tall a perfect paragon to the finer things in life. Also gone, were parts of the door. Door hinges, unhinged.

Surrounded in response were other gentlemen, prior sharing cups of tea, now enraged at the blue at the door. Shotguns in tow, cocked and barreled past the point of reason. One blue life, no more.

“Shameful,” one bearable bear body decreed, observing in equal measure dead hired hitman in blue as well as one who understood preciousness of presentation.

“Highest esteemed gentleman breathes,” a relief voiced by one who could wrestle bears with words.

“Attack meets retaliation,” forewarned one higher up on the respectable ladder. Rungs wrung out followed a pattern, polka-dots unruly, all things considered. One atop such a ladder may have sat, whiskey in hand, whispering of days of old.

Sure, just, fair, and true to form, each and every one of the single employs and envoys met such a lament, seated on a throne of regret. Sipped and chipped away at old days, one known as a leader of Hemingway. However, one day, Hemingway knew not the way. Such a day was an older day, when blood lay in a more sporty pool where all could drink and swim from sans the sanguine anxiousness of urination.

“We fight,” Ernie avowed, having taken to declaration.

Such strutted men, taken to streets. Outside, street lights with camera lens flares and a crimson radial temperature. Men in heat, overall, such men wore overalls.

World weary childlike syntax stopped the men in their tracks before reaching too close to the liminal space between Woolf and Hemingway.

“Stop,” commanded one without subordination and to his subordinates.

On the ground rest many pairs of mittens made of leather the size of a mouse, or smaller. Such mittens small enough to fit a foot (a pair fitting feet) who had given their introduction from out of a womb. In spite of having been strewn across the grime of the ground, such leather mittens fitted for feet were in such a condition as to suggest having not having a pair of feet placed inside of them.

“Baby shoes, never worn,” observed over three feet, yet less than five feet tall a man who looked to be between 10.2 and 12.9 years of age yet bore the voice of one with at least five ten's worth or greater years lived as a breathable human.

Men looked at each other. In unison, looked toward their miniscule pioneer.

“What must be done?” Question given.

“Stand back and ready shotgun.”

Command placed upon a chess board meticulous as the one which does not exist and all men were knights in the absence of pawns or bishops. At once and arms drawn before bidding them farewell; arms raised, as if to wave goodbye. So too, baby shoes.

Explosion in response to removed baby shoes from the battlefield. Erupted choruses of men who forged ahead.

Moon above and bereft. Sky of sulfur.

Once threshold had been crossed, howls took form. Henceforth Hemingway gang on guard, arms raised, scanning their environment once more. Dense streets ought have been arid, or lucrative, yet instead, invalid. Buildings best sat where better to stand and homeowners would have fled. Better yet were those without homes who could have found temporary residence within their wits. Instead, homes of abandonment.

Cascading howls hinterland. In earnest, Ernie sent signals to extraordinary gentlemen and such gentlemen took residence searching for shadows in each home.

“Dens for wolves,” muttered breaths.

Blood sprinkled, an inverted rainbow in only one color as howls from both friend and foe sprang forth once more. Fashioned by the Woolfs were claws used for burrowing into chests of burly men. Such claws, equipped with electricity, stacked with static. Even those to stand and breathe would see immobility.

Upon noticing injury and deaths of comrades, shot into the air spiked forward, launching itself forth as a gleeful missile would.

More Hemingway sprang.

“Jolly good,” all sang.

From afar, two jars in place of binoculars, a line added in the line of danger.

“Damn,” damned the one handing out damnations. “Curses,” cursed the same person.

To top things off, to even the odds, the 1's and 3's became 2's and 4's. In other words, rugs, carpets, and mats, make for good deceptive works of art. All one has to do is lay them flat and the world gives itself a pat on the back.

Wolves got to work working carpentry just in time for bundled burlap surgery to unfold. Backed away was a way with hemming. All rest were irons struck hot and forged ahead of schedule.

One step and a splintered acorn fission created flame and flash alike. Spectacle of smoke, specifically of the destructive variety.

Vicious visage which was voted greatest seized the confusion or upstaged clarity to make leaps and bounds across building tops and plunge to the bottom with her claws spread. Observant owl watched such a display.

“Carpet bombs,” his two words said and his look of disapproval said everything else.

Stepping forward once more were the Hemingway men, unscathed.

Unable to deny, Adeline, awe, star, and dumbstruck, struck a look of disgust.

“How the fuck?”

“Shielded clothing,” sang jolly good fellows.

“Thought you fuckers 'ere against modern shit!” Feral lady gave a series of barks which translated rather well into English words and phrases albeit some creative liberties taken.

“Everything with purpose,” next verse.

“Men,” preached a prophet little more than four heads tall.

Ways of hems aimed and took potshots at wolves inside buildings. Claws could not save those without shield.

Last whimpers made by canines slain. Growled a displeased pooch, lines added were diminished by the one who adds lines via combinations of finesse, razor sharp claws, and a ducked head.

Joyous chorus became showered confetti of blood crystal droplets, which Adeline collected and lavished.

“Your gang's mostly toast! You're definitely next!” Proud roar of a wolf.

“T'is Sunday,” gave a friendly reminder from a gentlemanly gentleman. Hiding underneath Ernie's underpants rest a righteous rod which he pulled out gracefully for all the world to see. Split into two, one rod became two, smaller rods. Each rod lit up, beams of pure energy, until the energy took the shape of a blade.

Ernie on a Sunday, blades of energy in tow, sliced down upon the arms of the one always adding lines. She saw two limbs dropped, plopped, and a jetstream of ruby liquid, tasting of salty iron shot forward before fizzling out.

“Farewell,” saluted a man in earnest.

She, in response, took to knees, and/or a scream.

“Does this mean defeat?” She asked of Ernie.

“Absolutely.”

[travelswithagourmet]

Day 2’s tasty treat was lunch for two @jonandvinnydelivery • Started off with the gem lettuce with Calabrian chili dressing, Parmesan and breadcrumbs - a modern refined take on a classic Caesar salad using crispy breadcrumbs instead of bacon bits and adding chili for some zing. • We then shared two dishes: the chicken cutlet - a crispy non-oily flavorful chicken breast paillars (I never thought I’d say that as most places always end up serving dried out chicken breast fillets) and their signature spicy fusilli vodka, basil, Parmesan. We also ordered a Margherita pizza but it never came and they very generously took it off our bill and still gave it to us in a takeaway box. Did I mention the service here is always friendly and accommodating? • Dessert was a difficult choice: a classic tiramisu or the chocolate budino with caramel olive oil and sea salt - see what I mean? We ended up with their Strauss family creamery soft serve twist of vanilla and chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie. Finally finished with an espresso and a biscotti, then we rolled our way back to the hotel. • #TravelswithaGourmet #TWAGlosangeles #JonandVinnys #thebest #yum #lafoodie (at Jon & Vinny's Restaurant) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQuKVD4jcTW/?utm_medium=tumblr