#yes its christmas and i drew halloween shit leave me alone

[descendantofthesparrow]

Halloween C4 artworks-commissioned by @benjaycaptain for one of their fics.

[langdvnshepherd]

Sinister Kid (Michael Langdon One Shot)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: None! Just some good ol’ dad!Michael to warm your heart on this fine day.

A/N: A while back someone asked for some dad!Michael headcanons, but I wanted to do something a little more specific so I wrote this one-shot! I tried to mix in as many hc’s as I could into the actual writing, which is why it’s a bit longer. Soft, domestic dad!Michael is the cutest shit EVER don’t even @ me. Feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you’d like to see next!

     Michael sat on the plush leather sofa, the sounds of tiny feet against the hardwood and low, concentrated mumbling filling his eardrums. He was quite entertained, for a multitude of reasons. One being his tiny son, his heir, desperately trying to sing and dance along to The Nightmare Before Christmas playing on the television before him, a film he had, unwillingly, become acutely familiar with due to his boy’s obsession with Jack Skellington. He could watch him for hours, and he had plenty of times before. His clumsy feet trying to keep up with the whimsical movements of the animated characters as they pranced about the frame, his rosy red lips moving offbeat to the song, his motor skills not yet gracing him with any rhythm whatsoever. 

     Michael never thought he could love someone so deeply, so unconditionally, until he saw his son for the first time. He was the epitome of purity, which was ironic given his ancestry. He was everything Michael thought he was incapable of being himself; the sweetest, most loving and caring little boy he had ever known, and he was only two years old. Having a child was something Michael initially saw as a chore, a necessary step in his duty to bring about the end times, producing a successor to take his place when he moved on to the next realm. Of course, he would love his child, he just never intended for fatherhood to affect him in the way that it had thus far. Now, the apocalypse was the furthest thing from his mind. How could he worry about rebuilding the world when the most important life was right in front of him? 

     Being a parent had softened Michael, made him see the delicate, intricate beauty of life. His purpose had changed, he was more concerned with being a present father to the most precious being he had laid eyes on. If you could call it anything, Michael had taken a “leave of absence” from being the Antichrist. He still kept in touch with Kineros, still had plans to follow through with his father’s demands, just at a more leisurely pace. A pace that had even further been slowed by the second reason for his amusement at the moment: his wife, who happened to be seven months pregnant with his second child.

     She wasn’t in the room with Michael and their son, but he could see her, and hear her, with the powers bestowed onto him by Satan himself. She was perched in the clawfoot tub, the one he promised her when he first drew up the blueprints for the cottage-style home. Her eyes closed in concentration, taking deep breaths in her nose and out of her mouth, fingers curled around the lip of the tub in a vice grip. Anything to keep from asking for Michael’s help. She was incredibly stubborn, and always had been. They had gotten into a fight two days ago about him smothering her, not letting her do anything on her own. She insisted this pregnancy wasn’t like her first, when she spent most of her time bedridden in excruciating pain. She didn’t need Michael “up her ass every second of every day” as she had proclaimed during her outburst. The fight was petty and stupid, she’ll admit. But she hadn’t spoken to him since and had no intention of doing so until he apologized for being so overbearing.

     Quite frankly, she was over it by now, wishing she could reconcile with her husband and go back to getting nightly foot rubs and rub downs with her favorite lotions, but her pride hindered her from doing so, which brought a smile to Michael’s face. He could read her thoughts, he knew she wanted things to go back to normal, that she missed him and his attentiveness, but he wanted to see how long she could keep up the silent treatment before crawling back to him. Now was the perfect time to tease her, he decided.

     “Hey bud,” Michael called out to his son, who put his dramatic rendition of This is Halloween on pause to look at his father, eerily similar piercing blue eyes staring back at him.

     “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.”

     “Mama!” the boy exclaimed, gripping his Zero the dog plush tighter to his chest. Michael remembered the ecstatic look on his toddler’s flushed, chubby face when his wife came home with the stuffed animal. Nothing else in the world made his heart leap like seeing his child so jovial over such a mundane object.

     Michael scooped up his mini-me and carefully made his way up the stairs, watching his son’s blonde curls bounce in sync with his steps.

     “I have a feeling she’s gonna be very happy to see us.”

     Her back was facing away from the door, so she didn’t notice Michael and her son had entered the bathroom until she heard quiet snickers coming from the entryway. Michael was leaning on the doorframe, their son balanced expertly on his hip. Their outburst of giggles was caused by the tiny toddler’s incapacity to keep quiet. He always got so tickled, and his laughter was contagious. She turned towards the noise, first smiling at the presence of her sweet boy, then growing annoyed once her eyes met her husband.

     “Having fun in there?” Michael jabbed, his son tugging on the loose strands of silky, golden hair that had fallen out of his bun. He made a habit out of tying his hair back long ago when he realized how much his son loved to pull it, yank it rather. It was clearly no use. Even at two, his son was still fascinated by his father’s long locks that he was destined to inherit.

     “Loads,” she fired back, trying to steady her breathing as to not give away how exhausted she was. For the past several minutes she’d been struggling to maneuver her way out of the high-walled tub, her protruding belly being the obstacle she was unable to overcome. It would have been over and done with forever ago had she simply called for Michael to help her stand up, but she wasn’t ready to give up her grudge just yet.

     “Hmm,” he started up again, determined to see how far he could push her. “Did you want me to help you out of the tub? Or are you still mad at me?” He rested his thumb on his free hand under his chin in fake thought.

     “So you’ve been standing there this whole time? Watching me?” What a fucking dick, she thought to herself.

     “From the couch mostly, but yes. You told me you didn’t want my help anymore, so I’m just respecting your wishes,” Michael smarted off, his iconic, shit-eating smirk making its appearance. Had she not been stuck in the tub, she might have smacked the grin clear off his face.

     She turned away from him, resting her back against the side of the tub in defeat. She didn’t want to admit that she needed Michael, but times like these made her regret ever lashing out at him. He really was helpful. Throughout both pregnancies now, he’d been right by her side: holding her hair back while she hurled her guts into the toilet, using his magic to alleviate her back pain, making midnight runs to the convenience store when she woke up in the middle of the night in frantic search of ice cream, going down on her like his life depended on it when her hormones made her desperately horny. But sometimes it got to the point where she felt like she couldn’t breathe with him constantly breathing down her neck. She knew he was only trying to help. Carrying the spawn of the Antichrist was not a task that could be done alone, but she needed her space like any other human.

     Michael didn’t wait for her to respond, taking her silence as a sign that if he didn’t intervene, she had every intention of staying in that tub until her fingers and toes were purple and pruney. He sauntered towards her place at the tub, his blabbering baby still attached to his hip. Holding out his free hand for her to grab, he knew he was risking getting an earful. The past two days following their fight had been spent in solitude, each of them co-parenting without actually speaking to each other. He was certain his gesture might elicit another outburst on her part, but he couldn’t walk away without at least offering to help his heavily pregnant wife.

     She looked up at him in contempt, the narrowing of her eyes indicated her everpresent resentment towards Michael. With a loud huff, she wrapped her fingers around Michael’s forearm. He carefully lifted her by her elbow, a satisfied smirk smeared across his face as she leaned into his touch. Michael made sure she was standing upright before releasing her from his grip, then trailed his hand down her spine to give her bum a quick squeeze. She yelped in response, which only widened the grin plastered on Michael’s cheeks.

     “You fucking asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

     “Mommy, no!” the small boy in Michael’s arms exclaimed, an instant pout taking over his features. He had gotten in trouble for repeating those very words a few weeks ago and had taken it upon himself to scold both his mother and father every time he heard them since then. Michael’s eyes widened, giving his wife the oh shit, you’re in trouble look.

     “Mommy’s sorry, sweet boy. I shouldn’t have said that,” she reassured her son, giving him a quick peck on his temple and running her fingers through the wild mop of strawberry blonde curls on his head. He curled further into Michael’s shoulder, practically purring at the attention he was getting from his mother whom he loved so dearly. 

     “On that note,” Michael began as he reached for the towel on the warming rack, tossing it in her direction. “If you need us, we’ll be downstairs watching The Nightmare Before Christmas for the...” he paused in thought, “...third time today?” 

     She chuckled at his words, cracking her first smile at him since their fight. She knew just as much as Michael how much their son adored that godforsaken film. It was all he talked about, even at bedtime when she desperately wished he would just close his eyes for five seconds and go to sleep without bringing up Lock, Shock, or Barrel’s conniving attempts to kidnap Santa Claus. Any other two-year-old would be terrified of such a thing, but not her kid. Not the Antichrist’s son.

     “Papa?” Michael’s son perked up suddenly, snapping out of his affectionate trance to look up eagerly as his father.

     “Hmm?” Michael answered, peering down lovingly at the boy he held tightly in his arms. He swore he would never get tired of hearing that tiny, high pitched little voice say his name. 

     “Popcorn?” he pleaded, although it sounded more like “pa-corn.” His azure-tinted eyes were wide like saucers looking up at his father.

     “You want some popcorn?” his son nodded enthusiastically. “That’s your mom’s favorite snack, you know? Should we make mommy some too so she’ll come and watch your movie with us?” Michael mischievously cut his eyes at his wife who was securing the fluffy white towel he had thrown at her to her body, the fabric clinging tightly around the prominent bump of her stomach.

     “Mommy! Movie!” Speaking in full sentences wasn’t on his to-do list yet, so he often spoke in short spouts. 

     Knowing she could never deny her boy of anything he wanted, she promised him she’d be down shortly to finish his movie with him. He was whisked away by Michael, who gave her one last taunting wink before disappearing from her view in the bathroom.

     He was slowly but surely charming his way back into her good graces despite everything in her that urged her not to give in.

~

     Michael bumped the drawer to the trashcan closed with his hip, balancing a mountainous bowl of popcorn in one hand and a sippy cup filled with apple juice in the other as he discarded the paper popcorn bag into the bin. His son squealed in delight upon seeing Michael enter the living room, his pudgy hands making grabbing motions at his afternoon snack before Michael could even place the bowl down on the coffee table. 

     “What do you say?” Michael quizzed. He’d been practicing manners with his son, making sure he was always appreciative of what he had. 

     “Peas,” the boy’s precious attempt at “please” making Michael’s heart sore. 

     “Good boy,” Michael replied, watching him grab a handful of popcorn and stuff it into his puffy cheeks. That boy was like a bottomless pit, Michael thought. Although Michael was known to throw back a few hearty portions of food himself, his appetite had nothing on his son’s. It had to have something to do with being the growing boy of the Antichrist, which also explained his wife’s bizarre cravings as well. He had never been able to figure out who in their right mind would willingly eat pickles and ice cream at the same time.

     “Here, catch!” Michael called out to his son, plucking a single kernel from the bowl. The toddler immediately got the hint and assumed his position, it was one of his favorite games to play with his father. They played it almost every day, whether it was with cereal puffs, bite-sized bits of french toast, slices of clementines, or chocolate chips he knew he wasn’t supposed to have unless it was after dinner. Michael tossed the popcorn in the air towards his son’s open mouth, immediately bursting into laughter when it missed his lips and bounced off his forehead. Michael wasn’t sure what was more entertaining: the look of pure and utter concentration on the boy’s face as he tried to catch the popcorn in his mouth like he’d seen his dad do so many times and desperately tried to mimic, or the sound of his giggles when he inevitably missed, making the snack roll promptly off his face and onto the floor.

     Just as Michael resumed the film and got comfortable on the sofa, his wife reluctantly emerged from the top of the stairs clad in one of his old, black t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. He loved seeing her like this, although he’d never say that to her face. It was part of the reason why he’d begged her for another baby in the first place. Watching her belly grow rounder each day, abandoning her own wardrobe and opting for Michael’s which eventually grew tighter as well with each passing trimester. It did something to Michael that he couldn’t exactly explain with words.

     She snickered at her son as she walked past, already entranced by the television screen. Michael sat up straighter in his seat, making room for her to lay beside him as she always did when they had movie night on the couch. Instead, she plopped down on the opposite side of him and propped her feet up on the coffee table, earning an offended glare from Michael. She didn’t react to his gesture, she simply leaned forward to grab a handful of popcorn and fixed her eyes on the tv, pretending to be interested in the film she’d seen what felt like one thousand times. 

     This fight had turned into somewhat of a game for Michael. He so desperately wanted her to crack, to see his side of the argument. He felt he was so undeniably in the right. She was carrying precious cargo, cargo that he feared would hurt her if she wasn’t too careful. He’d seen what his bloodline did to others, his mother being a prime example. Michael couldn’t fathom losing his beloved wife, so he made it his priority to ensure her safety, even if it meant she wasn’t allowed to lift a finger for nine, long months. For the past two days, he’d been annoying the shit out of her, taunting her as to get her to break her silence towards him.

     “Mama! Papa! Look! Santa!” the boy screeched, making his adorable lisp echo throughout the living room. He was aggressively pointing to Tim Burton’s rendition of Santa Claus on the screen.

     “I see!” the two of them responded in unison, mustering up as much enthusiasm as they possibly could.

     Michael nudged his wife’s thigh with his foot, her eyes shot back at him like daggers in return. He half-snorted at her reaction, eyes moving back to watch his son twirl around on the fuzzy carpet. 

     They stayed like this for a while, on opposite ends of the couch; Michael’s armed crossed over his chest while his wife’s hands massaged her own baby bump, occasionally reaching over for more popcorn. Michael could sense her faltering reluctance even more now, how she wanted nothing more than to take back the harsh words she hurled at him and curl up like a kitten into his warm torso. Her stubbornness prevailed, however, only thickening the tension in the room. If it weren’t for their son’s erratic behavior, they probably would have kept up their act for yet another day.

     A piercing scream shook both of them out of their trances. Before Michael could blink, his son shot into his arms, covering his eyes with his hands and burying his face into Michael’s shoulder.

     “Bubby, what’s the matter?” Michael asked, running his cool, ring clad fingers through the boy’s untamed curls.

     He mumbled something about the Boogie Man from the film coming to get him, although it was hard for Michael to comprehend due to the combination of his tiny, baby voice and the muffled cries he let out into his shoulder.

     “Hey, look at me,” Michael demanded in a soft, yet stern tone. The emotionally unstable boy clutching his now-wet-with-tears shirt sleeve lifted his head, lips pouted and tears bubbling over his ocean blue eyes.

     “It’s just a movie. The Boogie Man’s not real, he can’t hurt you. Besides, even if he was, Daddy wouldn’t even let him get close to you. He’d be more scared of me than you are of him. I promise,” he spoke lovingly, rubbing away his son’s tears with his thumb.

     “’kay,” the boy sniffled, tired now. He hoisted himself up fully on the sofa, straddling Michael’s lap as to signify he was ready for naptime. 

     “Mommy, lay with me,” their son called out, wanting the comfort of both his mother and father at once. 

     All disdain for her husband evaporated into thin air at that moment as she slid over on the couch to be closer to her son. Michael enveloped her in his arms, pulling the two of them as close to his chest as he could manage. She’d completely forgotten about the silent war between the two of them. Their son was her greatest weakness, she’d do anything to make him happy.

     The three of them sat in quietude, the ending credits of the film having long been over and the screen gone black. Michael rubbed circles on his wife’s back while she stroked their son’s side, lulling him peacefully to sleep. 

     “You’re a good dad, you know?” she broke the silence both of that moment and of the last two days.

     “Does this mean you forgive me?” he pulled away to glance fully at his wife’s bare face, wiggling his eyebrows at her when she caught his stare. 

     “I suppose,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes at his haughtiness. “I just feel so trapped sometimes. You never let me do anything, I need breathing room every once in a while.”

     “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just...I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you because of me, so I feel like I have to make sure nothing could possibly go wrong." 

     “I get that, and I appreciate the sentiment. But I’m perfectly capable of doing things for myself. And I would like to be able to get out of bed and make my own cup of coffee without being carried down the stairs like a child.”

     They both laughed in hushed tones, quiet as to not wake the sleeping toddler in their arms. 

     “I guess I have been a bit too overbearing,” Michael retorted.

      “You guess?” she was laughing even harder now.

     “I love you. Both of you. More than anything,” he brought her head closer to his, kissing her hair that was still a little damp from her bath.

     “And I love the both of you just the same,” she answered, pressing a gentle kiss to the protrusion of Michael’s collar bone and then another on her son’s rotund cheek.

     “What do you say I put little bug in his bed so I can prove to you just how much I love you?” he was kissing down her neck now, purposely making loud, smacking noises with his lips.

     She pried his mouth away from her throat, bracing her arm on Michael’s knee before getting up from the couch

     “Let me take him,” she insisted.

     Michael’s arms tightened around his son as if he was preparing to carry him to bed himself. “Are you sure you can-”

     “Do you not remember the talk we just had? I can do it. Give me the boy,” she demanded, her arms outstretched.

     Michael removed his grip from the boy and threw his arms up in surrender, a toothy grin on his lips. 

     He couldn’t wait for his daughter to arrive in just a few short weeks, certain that he’d be in deep shit if she was even half as stubborn as her mother.

~

tagging:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon  @aveiangdon (hehe) @belusima  @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies @gold-dragon-slayer @langdonsdemon

[cardboard-moon]

40 Things You Never Wanted To Know About Me

You probably already know me decently well or else you wouldn’t be reading this, so instead of rehashing the basic (boring) “getting to know me” questions I dug a little deeper and asked myself about what’s really important. Here is the result: 40 Things You Never Wanted To Know About Me. Enjoy!

1. What Parks and Rec character am I?

While I could argue for almost everyone on the show I’m probably most like Ben Wyatt: a white, brunette, and sad man who eats soup alone on a park bench (minus his love of math and rollerskate kink)

2: Top 5 books?

To Kill a Mockingbird, The Secret History, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The Help, 11/22/63

3: Top 5 movies?

Chinatown, Star Wars, Rear Window, National Treasure (nick cage can be good in small doses ok) and Nancy Drew (2007)

4: Top 5 shows?

Parks and Rec, B99, That 70′s Show, Mad Men, Arrested Development

5: Top 10 most iconic vines?

1) Chris is that a weed/Mary is that a police

2) Hi My Name is Trey I have A Basketball Game Tomorrow

3) Rebecca It’s Not What You Think

4) The one where the girl is just hitting elmo with a baseball bat

5) Anything Kermit but esp. the one where he falls off the building

6) You Know This Boy Got His Free Taco

7) 2 Bros Chillin in the Hot Tub

8) Waelcom to my Keeetchen we have bananis and avocadis

9) Whoever Threw That Paper Your Mom’s A Hoe

10) i spilled lipstick in your valentino bag (yOU SPILLED WHAHULAUG LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINE WHITE BAG)

6: Where do I see myself in 21 years?

One of my dreams in life is to marry the heir to a prestigious winery out in wine country. I have a vision of myself at 39, waking up at 10 AM on a tuesday and standing on my private balcony in my state-of-the-art spanish stucco villa. i am drinking a chardonnay despite the early hour whilst i observe my grape empire in my silk negligee. the only event planned for the day is a portrait sitting for my rottweilers (4 of them), for which i have arranged spaces in the family’s private art gallery. i am aging well despite the harsh california sun and my partner and i have a trip to tuscany planned for the fall. it’s a charmed life and i never tire of eating grapes  

7: Top 5 favorite cryptids

1) Nessie (Nessie is a true lady I believe in her)

2) Mothman (not real)/ el chupacabra (possibly real)

3) the kraken (definitely real)

4) Bigfoot (not real but a legend anyways)

5) the yeti (real only in russia)

8: Do I Believe in Ghosts

It’s a complicated topic and of course we will likely never know for sure but the short answer is yes. in my opinion though, what ghosts are is the important question: are they really the dead coming back to haunt the earth? are they just manifestations of energy that the mind interprets into recognizable shapes? hallucinations? or is it wish fulfillment and the reduction of tensions on a heavy conscience? our brains are capable of powerful things, but it begs the question as to whether if a human desperately wants something to be true does the human mind have the power to make it true? c. s. lewis mentioned once that he never understood the ghost debate since, given that ghosts are real, they have no real power over us or anything interesting to say. but i believe that just goes to show how the mystery is far often more important than the solution.

9: Best/Worst Month of the Year

Best: May/November (spring/fall in full swing, holidays, time off school, great atmosphere) Worst: August (too dang hot & start of school)

10: What is one of my embarrassing secrets

I didn’t learn how to tie my shoes until I was nine (velcro ftw)

11: What is my Dream Date

We go cryptid hunting in the woods and have a picnic in the dark; you supply dogs for entertainment and guardianship purposes, i supply drinks and the cryptozoological myths we are chasing. Afterwards we get gelato

12: Top 3 Presidents

(this is based solely on arbitrary opinion not policies) 1) Barry Obama 2) Lincoln  3) Millard Fillmore (his name is funny) 

Honorable mention: jimmy carter (he was the only noncorrupt man in office for like 30 years before barry)

13: Top 3 Vice Presidents

1) John Adams, if nothing else but for the drama this man caused 2) Walter Mondale 3) the big boy JB 

Honorable Mention: Nichard Rixon

14: Top 3 Secretaries of State

1) Madeline Albright 2) Henry Clay 3) Elihu P. Washburn 

(note: secretaries of state have the funniest names, like Hamilton Fish (1869-1877) rest easy Mr. Fish)

15: Worst Activity they make you do in middle school PE

Middle school P.E. is the worst in general but I’m going to say either grading you on your shotput skills (?) or BMI (??) or just the tuesday run in general (luther kids know)

16: Top 4 Worst Scents

1) Washing a knife covered in peanut butter 2) Really cheap perfume that they sell in checkout lines at convenience stores 3) Olives 4) organic deodorant

17: Top 7 Conspiracy Theories

1) The Denver Airport is an underground military fallout shelter designed to protect the 1% from nuclear warfare

2) A Roman pope adjusted the Gregorian calendar so that his reign would fall on 1000 AD so we’re actually living in the year 1783

3) Paul McCartney is dead and was replaced prior to the Seargant Pepper album by a lookalike named Billy Shears

4) The state of Wyoming is a myth

5) Avril Lavigne died and was replaced back in the early 00’s

6) The Titanic sank because too many people went back in time to prevent it from sinking

7) Not to be cliche George Bush and the military-industrial complex orchestrated the 9/11 attacks (jet fuel can’t melt steel beams and all that)

18: Inside jokes with myself

I’m not usually a “gamer” but every year without fail someone introduces me to a game exactly at finals time and I get hooked and it ruins my gpa and study habits. This year it’s Stardew Valley, last year it was Dream Daddy and the year before that it was undertale and I blame Jojo for absolutely all of it bc they are usually the instigator. Anyway, every year I joke with myself about what game will derail my grades this year

19: Top 5 Worst Tactile Sensations

1) Putting tights or leggings on wet, hairy legs post-shower

2) Running fingernails along cardboard

3) Sweating in a turtleneck

4) Having wet, salty hair after swimming that drips down onto your back and makes the top of your shirt damp

5) Reaching into a bag of grapes and only finding really soft, slimy ones

20: Best Cat I’ve ever encountered

One time my friend and I were leaving Romancing the Bean and walking back to her car and the fattest, fluffiest, softest ginger cat I’ve ever seen came trotting up to us and flopped over at our feet. He was such a good boy!!! And so friendly with strangers!! He was very well groomed and just wanted some love, and whenever we stopped petting him he would jump up onto our legs and leave little wet paw prints everywhere, I wanted to kidnap him

21: Best dog I’ve ever encountered

All of them

22: Best squirrel I’ve ever encountered

My dad has befriended a squirrel named Nutty that likes to sneak into his office when the door’s open and steals peanuts. if the door is closed he’ll bang on it and scream until we acknowledge him

23: If I were a furry what would my fursona be

I do not know because I am not a furry. HOWEVER someone who is well-versed in furry matters told me once that I would be one of those long, nervous dogs like a greyhound maybe and tbh I could see it

24: Favorite/Least Favorite Disneyland Rides

My favorite has always been haunted mansion, except for the halloween season when it’s nightmare before christmas and then it’s thunder mountain. I just love the outside atmosphere of the house bc I’m a slut for that southern gothic architecture style. Worst is splash mountain because there’s no seatbelt and LOGICALLY i know I don’t need one but it doesn’t stop me from having a panic attack every time I get on and we go up the big hill as I worry about being flung from the toboggan across the park

25: Least favorite restaurant within 10 mile radius of my house

I live over by Porto’s so I am #blessed to be surrounded by some really dope food. However there is a hipster place a couple of blocks over in Toluca Lake that only serves bizarre food like fried chicken in maple syrup with waffle fries and it’s surprisingly bland, so the lack of taste combines with how expensive it is probably makes it the worst (it’s also forgettable bc I can’t even remember its name)

26: Rank of JBHS history department according to how good of a parent they would be

9.Mr. Bixler - I have never had this man so I can’t say shit. NA/10

8. Ms. Snowden - I’ve never had her either but I’ve heard enough about her between Burroughs and Luther to know that this woman is kind of scary, intimidating and uptight, all things I personally do not desire in a parent. 2/10

7. Mr. Hatch - I love Scott Hatch but he is a tremendous mess of a man. Judging by his wife’s instagram photos his idea of parenting is taking naps while cuddling his children and letting his wife do the rest of the hard work. Plus he seems like the type to be too wrapped up in his own melodrama and too busy hangin out with his best friend Edward Frankenbush playing Xbox to pay much attention to his kids. However, he did skip the first day of school to take his daughter to kindergarten so he gets points for that. 4/10

6. Mr. Lee - Mr. Lee is a very respectable guy who seems like he does a very good job providing for his family. He’s ranked as middle of the road because he’s a naturally private person so I can’t speak to his parenting tactics or personality much, however the few stories he shared about his daughter were very cute and he does the typical teacher/parent things like making her his screensaver on his computer. Overall, a very quality dad and man, 6.5/10

5. Mr. Fitz - Kyle Fitzgerald is similarly a mess of a man, but the difference between him and Scott Hatch is that he seems to make an investment in his kid. He always talks about current events in terms of what idiocy his poor daughter will have to put up with which shows his devotion to her well-being and survival in a confusing world. Also he brought her in to go swimming once while I was working at Verdugo and I got to see them having a great time on the splash pad and it warmed my heart. Great dad 7/10

4. Mr. Piper - Richard Piper is such a good father but in a detached way. He loves talking about his son and wife just as much as he loves talking about planes. The real kicker? When he talks about taking his son ON planes and geeking out over history together. He also asked all of his classes for people looking for tutoring work when his son was struggling in math which is so cute. Good guy Rick gets an 8/10.

2. (tie) Mr. Frankenbush and Ms. Hacker - Ed and Jan are both beautiful people. I know Ms. Hacker is #divisive but I personally am a big fan and would die to have her guidance in my daily life. She’s always interested in what’s going on in people’s lives and sure she’s definitely chaotic but it’s a loving chaos that’s only looking to help other people. I’ve not had the pleasure of having Mr. Frankenbush but he always is hanging out with his son Joey and they love coming to the Burroughs pool and playing water polo together; they spend a lot of time together since his wife works so much and they have such a buddy friendship. Both of these lovely people are super devoted and invested in the youth and would make great parents. 9/10

1. Mr. Clark - A god. We don’t deserve this man and I can’t sing his praises enough. Were were all lucky enough to be Greg’s children I don’t think evil would exist in the world. 11/10

27: Worst book I read for school

Hands down Tale of Two Cities since it’s the only one I’ve never finished. Dickens just doesn’t do it for me I guess plus I get really tired of the one dimensional characters and how much he romanticizes Lucy

28: Favorite little-known tidbit of history

When Richard Nixon went to Soviet Russia as Eisenhower’s VP during the cold war his secret service agents detected higher than usual amounts of radiation coming from Nixon’s hotel room, so they started talking loudly about it bc they knew the Soviets had planted buds and were listening. Within like an hour the radiation had vanished and they never heard anything about it again so man Soviet’s ain’t sly

29: 5 Places in Burbank That Are Definitely Haunted

1. Coral Cafe for obvious reasons, look up the ghost on youtube

2. The View seems like it would have some kind of el chupacabra-esque creature prowling around, maybe a mountain lion hybrid

3. Fry’s Electronics

4. The abandoned train station under the bridge

5. The LA river by the equestrian center

30: Rank of all the AP classes i took in order of entertainment value

9) AP Bio: I liked bio but the class wasn’t very entertaining. There’s not a lot of humor in bacteria and cells, and Mr. Van Loo is much more of a calming than a humorous and chaotic presence, so overall it takes the hit as the least entertaining class.

8) AP Stats: Math is similarly not very entertaining, but Mrs. Hollingshed’s erratic personality gives it the edge over Bio. Definitely more humorous than expected of a math class.

7) AP Econ: I bombed econ and business/money isn’t very entertaining but Jan Hacker made it so thanks to her chaos (love her though).

6) AP Euro: European history is incredibly iconic because, spoiler alert, Europeans are idiots and historically speaking everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. I just wish I remember it since I think idiot sophomore Lily slept through most of the class so needless to say I didn’t soak up much of the entertainment value. If it were up to me I’d take it over again and maybe stay awake this time.

5) AP Lit: Lit was just as much challenging and intimidating as it was entertaining, so it balances out. Mrs. Caluya is notably iconic and the books we read were all pretty interesting so it gets a high vote from me.

3) (tie) Gov/APUSH: History is always entertaining in my eyes since people do stupid things out of pettiness. These two tie for different reasons: Mr. Piper is a great teacher and that mock trial we did for the industrial age was great, but the subject was also extremely entertaining overall. I loved reading about how John Adams made making fun of him illegal. Gov was mostly just entertaining because of Mr. Hatch and how salty his is about the government. His sarcastic comments about how corrupt everything is gave life to an otherwise pretty lifeless subject.

2) AP Lang: aka the class with no curriculum, or the Kuglen Hour. I love Mr. Kuglen so much and he is responsible for 99% of the amusement in the class. I somehow learned how to be a better writer by listening to him complain about Trump and everything else under the sun for an hour every day so it was well worth it. Also who doesn’t like a class where you read Dave Sedaris for homework?

1) AP Psych: Without question, this is the epitome of entertainment. Psychology is just a mishmash of people trying to figure out why humans are as stupid as we are and why we do dumb things. Add in all the iconic psychologists and history and a class led by salty Mr. Hatch and you have a recipe for an entertaining year.

31: Top 5 Iconic JBHS teachers that I NEVER had (no particular order)

Mr. Peebles: A quirky man who I would have loved were I any good at math whatsoever

Mr. Arakelian: Band kids hate him but the stories I hear are so frickin iconic that I wish I could be an honorary band kid for a day and see the horror firsthand. If you have Arakelian stories please send them my way I’d love to hear about your pain

Mr. Frankenbush: A sad boi who everyone should get to experience and I regret never having.

Dr. Madooglu: He was so kind to me after the failed anti-trump lunchtime protest last year and he didn’t even know me. I wish I could’ve experienced him as a teacher.

Mr. Clark: The man, the myth, the legend

32: List of some iconic swim horror stories

Charlie breaking his hand after he lost a race and punched the gutter as hard as he could

Some idiot JV boys smearing poop all over the Burbank High locker room

The entire JV team getting Burroughs swim banned from Islands

Me almost passing out at the Los Amigos meet last year after I didn’t eat or sleep all day

Everyone always feigning illness or injury to get out of swimming the 4x100 relay

Getting in trouble for watching boys volleyball practice instead of doing the weight room sets

Every. Single. 5AM morning practice before school.

When coach martin finally figured out how periods work and suddenly we couldn’t use that as an excuse for not swimming anymore

33: What Office Character Would I Be

A mix between Angela, Oscar, and Kelly (we love our dramatic icons)

34: #1 Thing I’d Bring With Me to a Desert Island

Castaway for instructional purposes

35: What Would I call my memoir

Schadenfreude

36: 7 Best Buzzfeed Unsolved Episodes (no particular order)

This is one of my favorite shows so these are my recommendations:

1. 3 Horrifying Cases of Ghosts and Demons - one of the very first and best episodes; a 45-minute special where the Boys investigate the Winchester house in San Francisco, the Island of the Dolls in Mexico, and the Sallie House in Kansas

2. The Strange Disappearance of D. B. Cooper - A man going by the name of Dan Cooper hijacked a plane, demanded money and passage to Mexico, and then at some point jumped out of the plane and was never seen again. To this day no one knows his identity or his fate despite some of the ransom money turning up in a river somewhere.

3. The Haunted Halls of Waverly Hills Hospital - Ryan and Shane explore an abandoned asylum in Pennsylvania and some creepy stuff ensues. One of the best supernatural episodes

4. The Thrilling Gardner Museum Heist - An almost hilarious story (with reenactments!) about a seriously inept security guard and the loss of some of the world’s most beloved paintings. This was one of the first episodes after they started making money and the production quality is off the charts 

5. The Scandalous Murder of William Desmond Taylor - Another excellent reenactment story about one of Hollywood’s first and biggest scandals, the suspicious murder of a leading film producer.

6. The Enigmatic Death of the Isdal Woman - A woman’s body was found suspiciously burned in the European wilderness and no one knows who she is or how exactly she was killed. Watch if you like espionage!

7. The Strange Killing of Ken Rex McElroy - An entire town seemingly rose up to murder a douchey, violent pedophile. One of the only episodes that’s actually happy?

37: 6 Things I would Have Changed About High School

1. Definitely would have joined yearbook as soon as I could

2. Wouldn’t have forced myself to swim for all 4 years; if the passion’s gone then you shouldn’t force it. It’s just a sign that you need to move on to better things

3. I would’ve taken more AP’s and maybe tried another stem ap class. I’ve always been self-conscious about how bad I am at math, but I’ve gotten a little better over the years and instead of being too afraid to challenge myself I would’ve liked to see how I could do and prove myself.

4. Worrying less about grades!! I killed myself over my grades for like three years and then I just kind of let myself go. I would have let myself have who knows how many more hours of sleep and taken the L on a couple of assignments; I’m still learning that my health is more important than perfection.

5. Meeting the right people! I wouldn’t have restricted myself to a few friends and would have branched out more by joinng stuff like JSA. It sucks meeting the right people your senior year and realizing that I was hanging out with the wrong people this whole time.

6. Spanish instead of French.

38: What Would I Name My Farm Animals if I had A Farm

I’d definitely name them all after female Shakespearian characters. My cows would be Hippolyta and Titania from Midsummer, my horse would be Desdemona from Othello, my chickens would be Gonereil, Regan, and Cordelia from King Lear and my goat would be named Gertrude from Hamlet

39: Most Useless Talent I Have

I have a really strong internal clock so when I don’t think about it too hard and guess intuitively I can usually predict how much time has passed/what time it is without looking at a clock. It’s really only useful for estimating how much time I wasted standing in the shower staring at the wall

40: Top Regret After Writing This:

Writing this instead of studying for my econ test in seven hours.

Thanks for reading!