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palmett-hoes · 3 years

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i said in this post that i have original characters and backstories for neil's extended family. it took me,, a really long time to write it all down. it's been a full month since the original post, and this is still just a run through of things, not full prose, which i might be interested in doing one day but not anytime soon

now, some things to note about what i'm writing, why, and how. methodology, basically. this might not have come through yet in my posts, because i just don't post about my half-finished ideas, but i research a LOT. i like to base what i write about on real life, even if it's just headcanons and fanfic

also, i love helping people with research, so if anyone wants help with research for a fic or just their personal headcanons or anything hit me up!!

as a white person who wants to write characters from different ethnic backgrounds, i feel i have a responsibility to really do my due diligence and research as much as possible to consider things from every angle. and part of that for me is making sure that every character of color has a backstory. they don't just appear somewhere, i have to give them a reason for being there and a story for how they got there, even if that's not what i write their STORY about. people, come from places, basically. i follow a lot of demographic census information and population averages, as well as a lot of history, from as general as transatlantic trade in the last 500 years to as specific as the changes in a single city in a certain year

talking to other writers in the fandom i know i'm a little overzealous, but this is what gives me peace of mind to feel like i am putting the effort in to get things right

so anyway, as for what that means here:

i like writing neil as mixed black/jewish. it works well thematically for his character, as well as just what FEELS right for how i visualize him in my head

only, that can't simply come from nowhere. we know who his parents are. they need to also be poc for neil to be one, and they're a complicated pair to handle in that lens

one choice i made about that, for multiple reasons, is that everything about neil's parents' backgrounds should mirror each other. it can't simply be that one if them is black and one is jewish, or even that mary is both and nathan is white, because that says something i don't want to say any way you slice it. additionally, i want both facets of his ethnicity to be important to neil, and i feel as though he would want to ignore the half of himself from his father.

so: they both have to be mixed, giving them a sort of,, ideological equal footing, as it were. that way, i can also write three different experiences, rather than accidentally implying that This is what being black is, or This is what being jewish is, or This is what being mixed is. and that's also important to me, even if it's just in my head or not even directly addressed. it's still a big consideration of mine anytime i write about any of them

now, finally, onto mary and nathan! i'll put it below a cut because this is already long enough, the under-the-cut is much longer, and i don't want to wear out your thumbs if you don't care

mary hatford

canon timeline, neil was born in 1988. as a tentative number let's say mary was around 30 when he was born, meaning she would be born in the 50s. say her parents were roughly the same age, so they were born around the 20s

like i said, what's happening where in history is very important to me for building these backstories, and major historical events tend to have a lot of influence on population shifts. and well,, jews and europeans in the early-to-mid 20th century? there's no getting around involving world war II. nothing explicit, but it is mentioned and part of the story

mary’s paternal family are the hatfords. they're from the british west indies, largely jamaica, but they've been involved with shipping and trade all over the trans-atlantic region for generations.

they have a complicated relationship with the british empire, having both worked for them and against them at various points, sometimes both at once. similarly, they've tried multiple times through the generations to relocate the family to england permanently, but have been turned away or pressured out

they associate england and the british empire with power, and they both disagree with and desire that power in degrees which vary person to person. they do have a general idea between them though that living in england is a sign of status and authenticity, and while they don't want to leave jamaica permanently they do want their center of power to be in england, and there is a deep resentment against the anglos for not allowing them to stay permanently despite their wealth and influence, the fact that their work will always be looked down on and seen as lesser

i did come into building the hatfords with the primary idea of them being black british, and looking into the organized crime connection second. them being jamaican/west indies is a reference to the jamaican posse, who have a large presence in the london crime scene, although that's really the only connection. the hatfords aren't really yardies in any sense

the hatfords' status as organized crime is a little iffy. mostly they skirt the line between legal and illegal, owning legal trading companies and doing plenty of legal shipping. their main business in the criminal underworld is being middlemen moving supplies for other groups. they have a lot of contacts, and they serve an invaluable role in international smuggling, but they rarely get their own hands dirty. they move things from one place to the other and don't question too much what it is, though they don't deal in people

mary's father is named samuel hatford (first name in reference to samuel bellamy, the gentleman pirate king of the early 18th century). he was born in England, raised largely in Jamaica, then moved back to England as a teenager/young man. he's light-hearted and a bit idealistic for someone from a crime family, seeing the best in people even when they're cold and often believing in principle over profit, which at times put him in conflict with what's best for business

he almost enlisted in world war II, but instead convinced the family to work as weapons and supplies runners supporting the Allies and guerilla resistance groups

mary's mother is named cima ben nahman (ladino/judeo-spanish/sephardic names, doesn't really reference anything or anyone in particular). She's is an algerian jew. Born in algeria (city undecided, though algiers had the largest jewish community at the time), she moved to france for a few years as a young woman, probably for education. she joined anti-fascist organizations which became resistance groups once germany invaded

she's stoic, and has a ruthless mind for strategy. like most algerian jews, she's caught between her home country and its colonizer. the french empire played the algerian muslim majority against the jewish minority as a way to create infighting and distract the algerians from uniting and turning against them, but the algerian jews also then became reliant on the french for protection. (it's a really, really complicated situation)

cima sort of hates them both, both algeria and france. her only allegiance is to being jewish

(contrast this to samuel, who feels that he is BOTH british and caribbean, even when those two identities may be in conflict)

cima and samuel met when samuel provided weapons and supplies to cima's militia group. he took particular interest in them and went out of his way to help, above and beyond the other groups the hatfords were supplying

in the waning period of the war, cima was seriously injured, i'm currently thinking a land mine accident. she survived, but her recovery was slow. she lost an arm and had burns across half her torso, neck, and face. samuel brought her to england supported her through her recovery. in the hospital, they spoke a lot about why they each chose to fight, and the ways they did because neither were formal soldiers fighting for a country. samuel was in many ways fighting for an ideal, while cima was fighting for her people. cima also talked to him a lot about judaism and religion during this time, which samuel took an interest in. eventually, cima decided to stay

they got married. samuel converted, which was somewhat controversial with his family. however, cima agreed to join the family business, where she became an integral but sometimes ruthless member. after algerian independence, she brought some of her trusted family and community into the fold as well, some moving to england and others to france

both cima and samuel believed very heavily in responsibility, though what it meant for each of them was different. cima believed in preparedness and follow-through, samuel believed in family and protection, doing what's right outside of the bounds of the law. this contributed a lot to how they raised their children

when they were born, mary and stuart were raised in england (and i like to think they have an oldest brother). the hatfords were a big family, and influential, although careful about balancing the legal and less-legal sides of their business. the ben nahmans were smaller, and most of them were in france so mary and her brothers saw them less often. they were raised very religiously and culturally jewish, though close with the caribbean side of their family too, as well as being the first generation who were born and raised in england. this put them at a cross-section of three very different cultures, and was where mary first learned about changing and blending in with different groups

mary was the youngest and a little bit spoiled by her father, aunties, and uncles. her mother however was much less tolerant of her. clearly very affected by her time in the war, cima became extremely distrustful and suspicious, and tried to instill in her children a similar sentiment of secrecy and self-sufficiency, avoiding attention and casual relationships. she could be harsh on them, especially mary, who was the most resistant to this

growing up, mary was irresponsible and fun-loving, goading her brothers and cousins, getting in trouble, and starting fights. she didn't understand the tenuous balance of being organized crime, and at times put the whole family at risk by overestimating their sway. her mistakes affected the whole family but it was usually her mother who confronted her about them first and most harshly

she resented her mother's control, and didn't understand the reasons behind it. she also couldn't differentiate between the boundaries her mother sets as a result of her own trauma, and the necessary boundaries she set for the safety of the family, viewing them as one and the same, and leading her to hate any kind of control exerted over her

really, a lot of cima's character is just who mary ends up becoming after being married to nathan and being on the run. i like the story of a child becoming the parent they once hated. rather than learn from her mother, both her failures and her successes, mary becomes her, doomed to make the same mistakes. this is also why cima is wounded by a landmine, because mary dies in fire

---

nathan wesninski

nathan was HARD to come up with a story for, mostly because,,, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS GUY WORK FOR THE JAPANESE YAKUZA

wesninski is a VERY polish name. the japanese-polish connection is,, not super strong

so anyway, working off the idea of the wesninski family being a polish jewish one, WHERE is he going to meet a japanese crimelord to get into a multi-generation debt/business arrangement with?

turns out, the answer is brazil

brazil actually has a large jewish population (roughly 10th largest in the world). it began with its colonization by the portuguese, but the 19th century to modern population largely comes from central and eastern europe. brazil ALSO has the largest japanese population outside of japan

also this story ended up being WAY more detailed and prosaic than samuel&cima's story, which is basically just bullet points. there's no reason for this i love both stories very much just for some reason the words flowed for me here and not there

to avoid having a second jewish story where wwII is prominent, the wesninskis get a page out of my own family's book: nathan's grandfather (neil's great grandfather) came to the americas fleeing the russian pograms around the turn of the 20th century

Wesninski came to brazil (city undecided, have a lot more research to do about individual cities in brazil). he had waardenburg syndrome(a hereditary genetic condition that can affect eyes and hearing) which runs very strongly in his family (his son, nathan, and neil will all inherit it), and he is completely Deaf. while he came to brazil alone, in his new home he connected both with the local jewish community and the local deaf community, and eventually marries another Deaf Jewish woman

eventually they were able to establish a kosher deli and restaurant in the city, one which became a common hangout for the Deaf community. then one day (probably around 1915), a group of japanese men came in, and kept returning

these were the moriyamas, recently arrived from japan, in a place with very few japanese people and businesses. they liked the wesninski deli because they didn't share a language with anyone in there, couldn't even be heard by most of them, and it would also be difficult for the authorities to question them. two layers of protection for a crime family in a vulnerable place

wesninski and the moriyamas were amicable to each other, but as they didn't actually have a way to communicate that was the extent of it. but the moriyamas were polite and payed well and didn't bother the other customers. als, as a jewish establishment, they had a lot of education resources, which were helpful to the moriyamas in learning about brazilian society, including beginning to understand portuguese

now, in japan, the moriyamas were a small yakuza family. they got driven out by their bigger and stronger and more established competition around the time when japanese immigration to brazil was just starting, so that was where they went. though they had little option in where they ended up, they also had little competition in establishing their business

i still have a lot of research to do about the moriyamas. about both how the yakuza operate and about how brazilian organized crime works, and about life in brazil for early japanese immigrants. so a lot of the moriyama details are pretty vague

now the wesninskis had a son, meyer (nathan's father. name in reference to meyer lansky, famous american jewish mobster of polish descent) who was around 14 when the moriyamas arrived. he himself was not fully deaf like his parents, though was hard of hearing and raised in the Deaf community. as he goes through his rebellious teenage years, well, the gangsters are right there

in the early days the moriyamas were still more concerned with mostly the japanese enclaves, but they had aspirations of expanding. meyer wasn't japanese, but he was helpful to the moriyamas who came into the deli to study. he was perceptive and bold, could keep a secret, knew his way around knives from working in the deli, and knew the city. he was a good asset to them, and he was interested in causing some trouble

over the next ten years or so, meyer got increasingly more involved, alongside the moriyamas becoming increasingly more established throughout the city. he goes from someone who helps out occasionally and relays information beyween parties to getting involved with minor shakedowns, bribery, evidence disposal. by the time he's in his 20s he's thoroughly enmeshed

his parents were older when they had him, and his father died relatively young, leaving meyer the store and his mother to take care of. they were vaguely aware of his connections to the moriyamas and didn't approve of what he did with them but he also kept the worst from them, and was always a diligent son, and the only one they had. he assured them no matter how far he went that he wasn't "really" part of the gang

"yakuza have tattoos, and see, ima? no tattoos. i'm still a good jewish son, not a gangster"

now the problem arises when meyer falls for camara da machado, a young Deaf woman who frequents the store

(based on/inspired by/FC yaya dacosta (where the name comes from) and rutina wesley)

she was a Deaf girl born to a hearing family who struggled to give her the support she needed, maybe even just a single mother, and she'd spent a lot of time alone at the deli from a young age (12-ish?). she was shy and quiet and a little bit of a shrinking violet, but the wesninskis became very fond of her. she started tentatively helping them out around the store which became a job. she was often included in family meals and holidays, and always had a bed in their apartment above the deli if she needed one, and more than once had helped patch meyer up after he got in trouble to hide the extent of it from his parents

she was a couple years younger than him but he'd always been sweet on her. and she'd had a crush on him from basically the moment she'd layed eyes on him. they'd known each for years and camara was basically family, and then one day when they were both in their 20s it just suddenly clicked for them

so meyer and camara fell in love. meyer was head of the house, had to keep the deli running, and had his mother, camara, and possibly camara's mother (undecided at this juncture) to worry about and he decided he didn't want to continue working with the moriyamas in case it dragged his family into danger. being a gangster was a fling of youth and he was ready to grow up

when he informed the moriyamas of this though, they,,, did not agree.

while MEYER might not have considered himself part of the gang, THEY didn't think he just got to walk away. he'd worked with them for too long and knew too much. there might even have been a desire to tie him to the family permanently through marriage. and well,, one man against a growing criminal empire can't do much

it was a huge shock to him, and made him truly realize how naive and reckless he'd been. he'd been a dumb kid who wanted to start some trouble, the moriyamas were career criminals. they expected that once you were in, you were in for life, and they did not take kindly to meyer disagreeing with this

he didn't know how to explain this to his family... so he didn't. they'd all told him they wanted him to stop, but he'd meant for the announcement to be a surprise. after learning that he would not be permitted to walk away, he chose to just hide it and continue with business as usual

it worked for a while, maybe a few years, a time during which the moriyamas were getting a lot more brutal as they got more established and increasingly looked to expand, putting them in competition with other gangs and greater law enforcement, until they were a true crime empire spread across whole regions of the country. meyer had lost a lot of esteem in their eyes by asking to leave, leading them to put him under increasing scrutiny and giving him more incriminating tasks, to ensure that he would be incriminated if he ever tried to turn them in. it's during this time that he first had to kill for them

then camara got pregnant

and meyer was terrified. he didn't know how the moriyamas would deal with a kid. the only marriages and children he knew of within the family were endorsed by the boss, many arranged by him, and he knew his wouldn't be approved. yakuza wives were heavily involved with the business too, and he absolutely did not want that for camara

he broke down and told her everything. she's horrified, and furious that he kept it from her, but she didn't want to give up her baby. it would be hard, but she believed they can keep it hidden, and if the moriyamas found out, maybe it wouln't be so bad?

(spoiler: it would)

they have a son, born natan da machado, under his mother's name

meyer and camara never got married. meyer was going to propose after he left the moriyamas but that obviously didn't happen. marriages were supposed to be blessed by the boss, and meyer never dared to ask. they already lived together, anyway

but with natan, they decided that meyer couldn't acknowledge him as his own. in the deli or in the streets, he didn't acknowledge natan. he was camara's bastard son, and meyer didn't want anything to do with him

it was a flimsy disguise at best. natan was mixed, but there was a strong enough resemblance to his father. even if his hair was a darker red or he had brown skin, they had the same eyes

they tried to keep him away from the moriyamas as he grew up, hoping they wouldn't see him and make the connection, but they also kept him very hidden in general, just in case. he spent a lot of time inside, with his grandmothers

and that was how natan grew up, feeling like a secret, his father cold and distant, only acknowledging him in their apartment. cut off from other kids his age. a hearing boy in a Deaf family (natan himself was HoH but still had most of his hearing. meyer and his maternal grandmother could both hear, but they had gotten out of the habit of it and mostly communicated through sign)

natan developed a deep feeling of resentment towards his father and shame about himself from a young age. he felt like a mistake, defective somehow. so wrong he had to be hidden away from everyone

there's only so long that you can hide a child, though, and when natan was around ten the moriyamas found out about him, and they were not happy.

they didn't like split attention or loyalty. they kept children and family under very tight wraps. they should be one hundred percent enmeshed in the moriyama empire, raised to be loyal and helpful in whatever way they were needed. the fact that meyer wanted and was willing to leave for this family, and then hid his son, was a huge betrayal

still, they gave him an opportunity to prove his loyalty: kill camara or the moriyamas would kill them all: her, natan, meyer, and both their mothers

but meyer couldn't do it, and instead he told camara to run and hope they didn't actually care enough to chase her down. and she did. and she couldn't take natan with her. (i haven't fully fleshed out why yet, currently thinking that meyer was given this ultimatium when they already had natan)

so camara left her son, and got away

i built the story of mary's mother as a reflection of mary's story if something had been different, and i built nathan's story the same way. his wife takes her son and runs away with him when the moriyamas try to take him from her. nathan's mother was in the same situation and left him behind

over the next forty years of his belonging to the moriyamas he gets to marinate in that resentment. from the father that ignored to the mother who ran away from him, he internalizes it as being something wrong with him, not the circumstances. the more he's taught to torture and kill and the more he excels at it, the more this belief gets cemented. he's good at killing, he was meant to kill. he's twisted and broken and wrong inside and he always was and his parents always knew

and then when it happens again but differently this time he throws away a decade and millions of dollars and his standing with his boss to hunt down his son and his wife because he didn't get to run away so why should they? why does mary love nathaniel more than camara loved natan?

from here, the exact detail's of nathan's story aren't quite solidified. whether he was raised by his father from then on or by his grandmothers (or whether his grandmothers left with his mother) or whether the moriyamas put him somewhere else entirely, but from then on he lived under the moriyamas' direct supervision, and they taught him how to turn a knife on a man

they took his mother's name from him, though, so he's natan wesninski, not natan da machado, because they own the wesninskis now

and when the moriyamas decided to expand beyond brazil when natan was a young man instead of a child, and settled on the east coast of the US, they renamed him nathan, because it sounded more "american"

---

so that's it. obviously there are still a lot of unfinished details in both stories, but they're strong enough at this point to stand on their own and i haven't changed or rethought a lot of the major details in a long time

i've become extremely attached to these OCs and their stories, and i hope they interest other people too. some day i'd like to write them out in prose properly, along with the story of nathan and mary meeting, but that'll be a while away considering the pace i move at

so until then i just wanted to put this out there

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #mary hatford #nathan wesninski #txt #my fics #my writing #my posts #black neil josten #jewish neil josten #cw gangs #cw organized crime #cw ww11 #cw wwII #long form post

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artxyra · 4 years

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So I had this idea and I was wondering if you would write it. So damian has lived with his dad for a couple of years, he is 15/16 and his brothers have been nagging him about going on a date like a normal teenager for months now, and then one day he just snaps and screams at them " don't you get it I'm already betrothed!" His brothers are confused but try to help " I'm sure we can find a loophole and get you out of it!" "No. If the betrothal is broken the league will kill her."enter marinette.

Note: Well this story sounded better in my head, but it took forever to type up. I hope you enjoy it.

Damian couldn’t remember a time when his brothers didn’t make an attempt at his love life. Every other month (sometimes weeks) it was attempt after attempt. He hated it. At first, he humored his brothers, but that humor quickly turned to the opposite emotion. Though Damian’s biggest secret thought that it was hilarious, and it was.

Damian remembers their first attempt, he was only fourteen, been in the Waynes’ custody for almost four years. He remembers being tugged into a bathroom and then forces to wear silly fancy clothes. His brothers should have been lucky that he didn’t have his weapons on him. To them, it was to gain the high school boy experience since Damian refused to do any of the sorts. Shouldn’t they just happy that he has one friend at the very least? Nope, they really wanted Damian to have a sense of normality.

“Baby bird, every teen goes on a date. Please just do this for us.” It was Dick that had started the persuasion. Damian had only tsk and fold his arms against his chest. He was already fed up with all the bullshit spewing from the older adopted Wayne’s mouth.

“Why should I even do this? I barely know the har—girl and—” Damian begins to scowl as Dick interrupts him by tossing a vest for him to wear. He mentally gags at the texture of the vest. Damian had scene better quality, not that he’ll tell where.

“We promise it will be worth it.” It was Tim that adds to the conversation as Jason was to busy cleaning up his knife in broad daylight.

It wasn’t long after that was the date with a Gotham native. She wasn’t up to his standards; it was clear that she didn’t want to be with him for him. To this day he suspects that she only agreed because of the money. Damian tried everything to make the date super uncomfortable for the girl even going so far as to make up an explicitly detailed gory story. She left cursing his brothers, mainly Dick, out at the end of their date.

Damian had thought that would be the one and only time that would happen…he had forgotten the stubbornness that runs in the family. Failing was not an option as this continues for another four years.

“I’m sure it was a fun date.” A female’s voice says from the screen of his laptop, that was place on his dresser as he does shadow movements with his katana.

“It was tiresome, Angel, and quite frankly I’m getting sick of it.” Damian lowers the blade to his side and turns to face the screen. On the screen is a lovely female, around his age with long dark hair that drapes over her shoulders. She lets out a giggle.

“I’m sure they have the best intentions, besides it’s not like they know I exist, anyway.” She says rolling her eyes.

“Angel, I love you, but not even you can last an evening with the dates they have set up over and over again.” Damian sighs putting up the katana. He then picks up the laptop and goes to lie on his bed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all be fine. Besides, I have a surprise for you that is coming soon. Just hold out until then. Okay?” She says with a bright as a loud sound goes off in the background. Damian sighs and nods before ending the video call. He hates keeping her a secret, but it was the right thing to do.

It was a week later when his brothers came to him with another blind date proposal signally the tenth time that has happened in a span of a month. Everyone could see the growing frustration in the young Wayne heir. With the mention of dates, couples, restaurant, manhood, romance, it would set Damian off, although he was quick to calm down with a message from an Angel.

“Look Demon spawn, she is literally perfect for you.” It was an excuse, something for him to look forward to. No one is perfect.

“C’mon baby bird, she could be the one.” Another excuse. There was only one girl that was the one and she’s several hundred thousand miles away.

“Go, it all fancy and shit, also the NDA.” Ugh, this was becoming numbing. Damian could only wish to slide his fine blade across all their necks. Also, why the hell would Jason even mention an NDA to him in the first place?

“What is this? Another blind date for the young master?” Thank god for Alfred.

“Alfred, we promise this will be the last time.” That’s a lie and he knows it.

Damian could feel the growing headache forming at the back of his mind. Dick’s moving too fast, Tim’s giving him all the details about his so-called date, and well Jason is just being Jason.

“Enough!” Damian finally breaks. “The reason why I don’t like going on these so-called blind dates is because I’m betrothed to someone.” The word betrothed rings through the heads of his family members.

“Wha~!” Simultaneously, the older Waynes’ minds break.

“Is there any way you can break it off? A loophole even? How are you betrothed?” Shouldn’t that had been asked backward? They could all see the steam oozing out of Damian’s ears.

Crossing his arms and turning his back to his brothers, Damian looks down. “No, not unless you want a death on your hands. The only way to end a betrothal is to kill the other, that has always been the League’s away of things.” The second the last word left his lips, Damian walks away; he needs to talk with his Angel.

Still in shock, everyone turns to one another.

“How could we have missed that?” Tim screeches before taking a sip from his mug despite the shaking in his hand.

Dick was unsure what to say, think, or do. It’s not every day you learn the brother you’ve been setting up is engaged. An engagement that they could not break.

“I’m more worried who the brat is engaged too?” Jason murmurs then proceed to clean out his gun. His brothers stare at him with wide eyes unsure what to say to the second oldest.

For the next week after that bomb drop, his brothers continue to pester him about his betrothal, they even managed to include Bruce in the conversation a couple of times. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Damian knows that the pestering would have left someone in the hospital.

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Damian had taken Titus out for a walk. It was clear his mind and to get away for the time being. Finding a nice park bench to sit on, he pulls out a small sketchpad and begins to sketch. Titus runs around enjoying the outdoors.

“Is this spot taken?” The voice sounded so familiar. He grunts ever once looking up the person afraid that he had misheard the voice. “Oh, c’mon Dams, I thought you would be happy to see me.” It was then that he looks up. In shock, he pushes the sketchpad to the side and pulls the person in front of him into his arms.

“I miss you.” He murmurs into her dark hair. “But how?”

“I managed to win the Martha Wayne scholarship, and then your butler Alfred got into contact with me about visiting.” She says looking up to Damian, though she was mainly seeing his chin due to their height difference. “You’ve grown.” She then pouts.

Damian lets out a soft chuckle, hoping that no one outside of his Angel heard him. His Angel places her head against his chest and together they stayed like that until Titus decided that he was some attention.

“Awe, he’s so cute.” She says petting the Great Dane.

Damian was internally happy to have her by his side for the first time in years. She’s the one that is perfect for him and it’s not because she was molded to be, but because she knows him inside and out.

When Damian, Titus, and his Angel returned to the manor, it is Alfred that they see first.

“Welcome home, young master, and Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Alfred greets the teen.

“Alfred, please call me Marinette, my last name can be a mouth full,” Marinette says giving the butler a smile. Alfred nods and proceeds to guide them to the living room. “So, this is the Wayne manor, those photos you send me Dams does this no justice.”

Damian once again chuckles knowing she’ll be in a heavily inspired by the architecture which will then cause her to go dark until she finishes whatever project came out of the inspiration.

“Angel, how about I give you a proper tour of the manor?” He offers to which she gladly takes.

Marinette had been staying at the Wayne manor for a couple of days before Damian brothers make their grand entrance. Without catching sight of the girl, they make their way to the youngest Wayne hoping to get some answers about his betrothal.

“Um, you can ask me if you want,” Marinette says from behind the boys causing an outcry of emotions.

“What you’re real?” It was Tim rubbing his eyes that speaks first.

Marinette awkwardly nods, “And you need sleep. I have a special brew that can knock anyone out within seconds.” She says to Tim before turning to the others. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

Dick and Jason stare at the girl lost for words. Dick was internally gushing about her size and how cute she is compared to Damian while Jason struggles to comprehend the person in front of him.

Marinette closes the gap between her and Jason. She looks over the second oldest and smiles sadly. “You have so much darkness around you. The same that used to be around Dams. I could help you if you want.” She says taking the male’s hand.

Jason was lost for words. This person was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure how to feel but the light flowing off of this tiny person was overpowering.

“That’s it you’re my new favorite sibling. I will protect you with my life.” Dick cries out starting the competition of who’s Marinette’s favorite brother-in-law.

Not surprisingly enough, Marinette warmed her way into the Wayne family. She even bonded with Steph, Cass, and Barbara whenever the girls came over for a girls-only day. Damian quickly was reminded why he didn’t want his family to know about her, seeing that he barely has time with her as his siblings take all the time away. Though it has it’s benefits. He can now visit Marinette in France without needing to sneak away and she could come to visit the manor whenever she wants.

Damian knew the moment he said “I do”, she’ll be his forever in life and in death just like he’ll be hers forever.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#daminette #maribat #ml x dc #damimari #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

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halorocks1214 · 4 years

Text

the law of attraction

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5464

Summary: The Law of Attraction demonstrates how we create the things, events, and people that come into our lives. Our thoughts, feelings, words, and actions produce energies which, in turn, attract like energies. Negative energies attract negative energies and positive energies attract positive energies

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | You are here!

holy shit i need to stop telling myself to keep my fics short cuz thats what always makes them three times longer than i originally planned. anYWAYS, i know the point of fabfivefeb is kinda to focus on one bro a week specifically, buuuut my brain grabbed my face, yelled an idea into it and now this is going to be a full series i guess. i hope this still counts! also, just as a warning, the first few fics are going to be chronologically out of order-- gordons pov fic, aka this one, comes like, almost last in the line of fics i have planned-- but im hoping that just adds to the aesthetic im giving this series

thanks again to @gumnut-logic for the wonderful prompt ideas. i used “How did you do that?” and iridescent

--------

If you asked just-turned-10-years-old Gordon what he thought of his kid brother, you would probably be horrified at the things he could and did say.

Nowadays the 22-year-old felt bad about it-- like, exponentially so-- but back then he couldn’t help it. It was a Tracy rite-of-passage to not want a younger sibling when they came-- yes, even Scott, who Gordon secretly believed it was his fault for John being so nerdy. You should have wanted a nice pair of tennis shoes in his place, Scotty, not a chemistry kit.

Gordon, for all intents purposes, managed to be the worst-case out of four. Virgil wondered if his fiery temper rubbed off on Alan growing up, and the more Gordon caught wind of how Alan could be when angry, the more Gordon thought his immediate older brother was right.

Regardless, everyone in the family managed to at least get the OG Tracy baby to play nice when Alan was born. Gordon’s involvement could be described as nothing: he never did anything to actively harm Alan (he was raised better than that, c’mon), but whenever Gordon could get away from the tiny tot, he did. A couple of years went by, the world adjusted to five Tracy sons, and so did the Tracy family. Even Gordon was starting to see the merit in being an older brother.

Then, tragedy struck.

The avalanche that ripped apart their entire world came crashing down in more ways than one. Hoo boy, the tabloids had a field day with it. They always wanted to know every little detail, and when the family refused to give them anything, they came up with their own stories. The only details they got were from cheating, as a nosy reporter managed to grab a picture of 3-year-old Alan fighting for his life in the hospital, and the internet ran with it.

It was very quickly found out that their mother had died in the disaster as well, and along with the little snake’s photo of Alan, accusations were thrown around as if they were nothing more than plush baseballs, not full-blown knives digging into the Tracy men’s skin. Where was Jeff Tracy? Did he leave his wife and youngest to perish without a thought? The man did have four older sons, maybe he considered them to be more valuable? The last child wasn’t a planned addition in the first place, so it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to assume so!

What they would never know, Gordon thought bitterly and spitefully, was how Alan wasn’t the only Tracy kid that played in the snow that day. Alan easily got sick as a child for undetermined reasons, and lo and behold, the tiny blonde started running a low-grade fever during their vacation. Lucy offered to stay with Alan at the cabin while Jeff went to find an on-sight doctor. Virgil, who was starting to get into that kind of stuff, went with him.

John saw… something in the gift shop he wanted to grab (none of the brothers could really tell you that much about that day anymore), and since it was relatively close to where Jeff needed to ask for a doctor, the parents felt it would be okay for the red-head to explore the shop by himself, especially since John was easily the most well-behaved out of the children. Gordon was going to go with them to-- what did you expect-- get away from Alan. That’s when smother-hen-in-the-making Scott suggested Gordon stay back with Alan so he could get to know the baby of the family more.

The only reason Gordon agreed to stay was that Scott was staying as well. Gordon hadn’t had that much time recently to hang out with his oldest bro, so he thought it was worth dealing with the little tyke in the room as well. Besides, mom was there too. She could watch him.

Gordon couldn’t for the life of him remember who was where when the literal tons of snow came to say hi. They all got knocked out relatively quick, but from Dad’s recollection of Scott’s eye-witness account, Scott and mom woke up at some point. Scott then went on to carry his youngest siblings out and away from the danger zone, only to re-pass out a good distance away from the buried cabin.

There were many details left out by Scott, and even more were left out by their father, who wanted to give his eldest some sense of security despite all the chaos. Gordon would only learn a little bit more (and by golly was it enough) when he was 16 and grounded by Scott himself. We know Dad is gone! Stop trying to replace him! Gordon shamefully admits that he was purposefully trying back then to be as difficult as possible. Sure, it was due to grief over losing their last living parent, but that didn’t mean he had to take out his rage like he was less than half his age.

People always credited Alan as being the angry baby, but Gordon could be a right bastard when he wanted.

Virgil shut up him right up with a tiny admission that Gordon would never let Scott know he knew. It was the least the swimmer could do after everything their oldest brother gave up.

“You know he promised her, right?”

Teenaged Gordon hissed as Virgil readjusted his piggyback, jostling Gordon’s broken leg in the process. Sneaking out didn’t really seem all that thrilling anymore. He still managed to squeak out through gritted teeth, “W-What?”

Virgil kept his face straight, a weird kind of stoic covering all of his emotions burning within, “Scott promised mom he would keep you two safe. It was the only thing he could do for her.”

That gut-punch didn’t help Gordon’s bruised ribs, and Virgil should have just broken his leg more next. Would have been a nicer follow up than the metaphorical groin kick Gordon received.

“Dad wondered if she was even aware-- or maybe even alive-- enough to hear him.”

Gordon had a lot of time in the hospital to think about those words, even more so when he watched his brunette brother sleep by his bedside. 22-year-old Scott should have been furious, should have ripped him a new one for being such a prick, but the only thing Gordon witnessed him do that night was run into the room as soon as he got the news that Gordon was okay and gently collapse onto his younger brother to collect the blonde into his arms while he tried desperately not to break down-- tried to be strong. Gordon was so caught off guard that he could only wrap his arms back around Scott in a weak attempt to reassure the new head of the Tracy Clan.

Later in the week when Gordon wasn’t so dead on his feet, Scott finally found the reprimand he wanted to give and tore into Gordon. Of course, Gordon snapped back too. They had the typical ‘What were you thinking?!’ ‘I wanted to have fun!’ kind of argument, but it was… softer, in a way, especially on Gordon’s part.

During that same night, after the argument, Gordon would hear 10-year-old Alan sneak into his room with a box full of familiar lights, abruptly reminding Gordon of a feeling he felt a long time ago, back during the ‘recovery’ part of the aftermath of the avalanche. One he couldn’t entirely explain until right then, thanks to Scott’s reactions throughout that entire week.

See, Scott’s plan of Gordon getting along with Alan backfired pretty horribly as Gordon, in all of his trauma and denial, managed to loop his tiny mind around into thinking Alan was at least partially responsible. If he wasn’t sick… if he wasn’t there… if he hadn’t been born--

Yeah, he was 8 at the time, but Gordon still feels sick for even coming up with that thought way back when.

Well, what’s done is done, and for the majority of the first two years, after their wonderful mom left the Earth, Gordon could only describe it like a daze of sorts. Dad was drowning himself in his work, Scott had seen horrors not even adults should’ve had to have seen, Gordon was stuck in the nice world of childhood depression, Virgil and John were caught in the middle like they always were and sometimes still are, and Alan? They really weren’t sure what he was going through due to one simple problem.

Because that was the joke of the day, the ironic twist so to speak. Believe it or not, Alan tended to be a quiet kid.

Many who knew their family would retort with yeah, anyone is quiet standing next to you, Gordon! or they would at least point out the constant babbling that tended to come from the youngest Tracy in the first place. First, Gordon would snort and admit, okay, that’s fair, and then explain how Alan was quiet when it really mattered.

And how it sucked.

The kid could go on and on about what video game he played recently or how stupid his homework was, but when you got down to it you couldn’t get Alan to talk enough.

Back when Alan still did school on the mainland, his older brothers didn’t even know he was being bullied until the bruises started showing up on parts that weren’t covered by clothes (the ones that were, though, damn). It didn’t even occur to the older brothers that Alan was getting more and more quiet each day. After getting the perpetrators expelled and rightfully ripped a new one, Scott and John asked Alan why on earth he didn’t tell them. He just shrugged his tiny kid shoulders and said, “It didn’t seem like that big of a deal.”

Virgil’s 18th birthday was a night to remember, not just because it was a blast, but because they spent half the night in the waiting room at the hospital. They were hanging out in the cities, which was probably already a bad idea. In the first half of the day, the five of them had to cross a crosswalk. Simple enough, right? However, with the torrent of adults much larger than him, 12-year-old Alan lost his grip on John’s hand and toppled over with his arm out in front of him, leaving the limb out on a silver platter to be squashed by a rather large boot.

The man that did it felt really bad, actually, which was a breath of fresh air. He insisted that he would pay for any medical bills that came from the accident. The only reason they never went to any medical facility (immediately, at least) was that, after calming down, Alan insisted his arm felt fine. His reaction time in his fingers was still okay as well, so they left it alone. The four of them probably should have questioned why Alan was so quiet for the rest of the party, but they were too into the euphoria of Virgil’s big day to realize so. A little bit more into the celebration and Alan went missing. It was a miracle that they got Scott to not run off to the nearest police officer immediately. In hindsight, they probably should have, but panic makes the mind go woo woo.

After an hour of searching, they found Alan silently crying his eyes out in a corner. Gordon suspected Virgil never really got over the guilt. None of them have, probably. They really should have insisted they got it checked out right away. Sure, the reason they mainly assumed it was okay was that they’ve been hit with worse and only walked away with bruises-- John walked home from school one day with dirt and mud in his hair, scrapes littering his arms, and when asked what happened the ginger silently commented, “I got hit by a car,” as if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Not only did Jeff feel the number of years dwindle until his inevitable heart attack, but he also got to watch his eldest gain his first grey hairs with many more to come.

While getting a piggyback from yours truly, John calmly asked Alan why he didn’t say anything (again). The youngest just shrugged and buried his face into Gordon’s neck, “I didn’t want to be a problem. It’s Virge’s day…”

It would be a reoccurring problem for Alan to be hush-hush about physical and emotional strains put on him for years to come. It wasn’t a big problem out on the field (yet), but they were always extra sure to drill into the freckled boy if it seemed like he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. They were pretty sure it came from the fact that Alan was originally, well, not planned, as all those wonderful journalists pointed out.

They never actively kept it a secret. The age gaps, as well as the press, made it real hard to do so in the first place. Plus, keeping things like that a secret did more damage than not. But the idea was there, and the idea of being a ‘burden’ on anyone was a damaging thought that always seemed to ring in the back of Alan’s subconscious, so he made sure to only speak when he felt he absolutely could or if it wasn’t too much of a task he was asking of them (which they all hated, Scott especially).

The rest of them hoped to pick up what Lucy left behind, which was her efforts to make her newest son feel wanted and loved despite not being apart of the original quota. Gordon worried his older brothers felt a little too guilty about not being able to fully wash it away. It was part of the reason they let him act a little bit childishly on missions: if he feels comfortable enough to do so, then they can’t take it away from him out of fear that they’ll never get it back. It was also why he was just so excited to go on a mission: he could prove himself to be just as good as his older brothers.

Speaking of their mother (man, Gordon loved to ramble tonight, didn’t he), the whole reason any of this was a thing in the first place was Alan’s reaction to the avalanche. That’s when his whole ‘silent act’ issue became apparent. Because the kid became quiet. Period. He stopped talking for two years. Young Gordon wouldn’t even realize this until Virgil started to teach him ASL in their free time. Alan was still an energetic kid, he just… could not get his voice box to work.

The doctors insisted there was no physical damage, either, so they just had to wait and learn ways around it.

Gordon just could not wrap his young, tiny mind around why his loud and obnoxious and annoying younger bro just shut up. Intrigued at the idea of Alan actually being quiet, Gordon started to hang out with him more, especially since Gordon craved the general sense of peace during that time in his life. Yep, crazy, energy-lover Gordon needed the space to just sit and think, and where better than to rant about how crappy life was then at your great-listener-because-he-didn’t-want-to-talk brother.

As time went on in the second half of those two years, the youngest two grew close. Closer than any of the older brothers thought possible. Scott thinks they created their own hand language just for themselves during that time. Gordon was slowly becoming more and more himself, and Alan, well, still didn’t talk, but his energetic-ness was getting bigger and bigger each passing day. Unfortunately, so did their eagerness to be the biggest piece of shits in the world.

Baby Alan stumbled across a can of whip cream that the family forgot to put away. Toddling over to Gordon, the little one shook the can around as a way to say, ‘What could we do with this?’

Gordon’s first idea was to put a huge, glopping pile right on Scott’s pillow where his head directly laid. The sputtering and anger Scott responded with, as well as Virgil’s and John’s snickers at the whole thing, filled Gordon’s head with a million ways to continue his meticulous schemes. Alan got roped in the second the general idea of being able to make his family happy came to fruition.

April 16th was the day The Terrible Two officially started. Virgil was pretty sure he saw John’s calendar with this day marked specifically as a way to remind him not to come down. Virgil just wished he could ask his immediate older brother to let him up on ‘Five that day too.

Their pranks became more and more intense as they came up with each new one, and on the anniversary of their mother’s passing, they disappeared the entire morning. Due to grief, and the fact none of the remaining three sons wanted to deal with tar and feathers or their coffee mug shocking them again, they didn’t think too much of it. Honestly, after the last prank of filling their pillows with jello, they found the quietness to be a blessing. Then the sun started to set without the two of them home yet and they saw it as less of a blessing and more of a curse.

They couldn’t lose them, not on that day.

The house security cams showed the two of them heading into the woods behind their house with some kind of box, and that was all Scott, John, and Virgil needed to go sprinting out of the house. At this point, Dad was getting better about not drowning in work, but he still needed a little more counseling before he would be fully back. That left the three eldest brothers to go on a wild goose chase.

After searching for what Scott remembered feeling like a thousand years, they stumbled upon the two blondes giggling in an opening in the trees. Bursting through the bushes without a second thought, Scott and Virgil (with John behind them) not only saw their brothers unharmed and having a blast in the middle of the opening, all around them in the trees hung big and bright lights. It was as if they were standing in a pocket of stars. Stars they made from their own will and determination.

It was iridescent enough to make the three older brothers gasp just once before remembering why they were out in the dark and cold woods in the first place. Scott trudged over a little more forcefully than he probably realized. Right as he stood over his two youngest brothers, Alan’s tiny, freckled face looked up into his eyes obliviously and pointed at the set of lights.

“Look! Gordz made it pretty!”

Scott and Virgil wrapped their younger brother in the biggest bear hug ever, anger and fear forgotten. It was quiet, whispered and somewhat broken from two years of non-use, but damn, it was Alan. The light at the end of the tunnel seemed even closer. The two of them might have stained the back of Alan’s shirt with tears. Alan didn’t need to know.

Meanwhile, John, flabbergasted and slowly entering a state of shock due to his adrenaline drop followed by even more adrenaline after hearing Alan again, walked over to where Gordon was and simply asked, “How did you do… that?”

It was a question for more than one thing: how did you get Alan to start talking? How did you hang up the lights with no serious injury? How did the two of you grow up so quickly and closely without us even realizing?

All Gordon did was shrug, bring his hands behind his head with his elbows above it, and cheekily grinned, “There are just some secrets two brothers need to keep!”

When the two blondes shared a room that night, tangled with one another like the cords in the lights, Gordon felt something in his chest. It was something warm and fuzzy, and he would only feel it again for years to come when it was towards his only younger brother.

The 10-year-old didn’t know what it was, but he knew that when he figured it out, he would try to be better at it than Scott ever was. Heh, nowadays, he realized that probably wasn’t possible, but that was also okay.

Alan only needed one Scooter.

Right now, however, he needed his one and only Gordz.

---

Brains and other therapists suggested the reason Alan got quiet after going through a traumatic event was simply that it was easier to block things out if you were quiet.

All the brain energy that went to his mouth could be used to not think about the awful things he heard or witnessed. It was perfect. It left the rest of his brain to still be used for all of the other things he liked to do: he could hang out with his brothers and sister, play video games, and (unfortunately) work on homework without cause of concern.

Alan thought it was simple. His family thought it was torture. After all, he wouldn’t tell them what was wrong, and if he didn’t tell them they couldn’t fix it. It was everything their ‘am big person, protect the small’ inner programming hated and they felt like screaming. It was the avalanche again. It was Alan’s bullies again. It was the broken arm again. It was Dad’s disappearance again. Man, they never thought Alan would come back after that one.

But dammit, Gordon thought, their dad isn’t gone anymore, and it was because their stupid, selfless little brother was willing to go through hell and back to get him for them. The least Gordon could do was show Alan how much it was appreciated. How much he was appreciated.

But at this point, Gordon was on the verge of calling it a night.

It was a simple fucking question: do you remember where those stringed lights were?

Sure, it’s been God knows how many years since anyone has pulled them out, and Grandma did pack away a lot of stuff in rather secluded places that she deemed unimportant or, well, too traumatizing. But they could at least give him a general direction on where to go! Everyone knew the basic details of the layout of their storage compartments, come on!

Gordon was sitting in the kitchen, groaning into his hands when he heard someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Snapping his face away from his palms, he looked up into the eyes of none other than his father. The older man had eye bags for days, and his eyes were a little wearier than Gordon liked, but the small grin made Gordon feel like everything was alright.

Or maybe it was the box with the familiar lights in his arms. Mostly that.

Gordon stood up and blinked, “D-Dad--”

Jeff walked into the kitchen in a way that spoke, ‘let me say this first,’ “Scott mentioned you were driving your family crazy searching for this. I may not know how you boys set up the island after I left, but I do know your grandmother is stubborn as a bull. The only place she would have put this was in the decorations closet, where it wasn’t, which I’m sure you figured out, hence the constant nagging, so that means some kind of outside force moved it to a place least expected.”

Gordon was lost, “Where was it?”

Jeff let out a slight huff of air, “The back of Alan’s closet.”

Damn. Dammit dammit damn. Why wasn’t that obvious?

With a grip gentler than Gordon remembered he had, he took the box from Jeff. As he was examining the contents, he was able to smile at his father, “Thanks, Dad, this is exactly what I wanted.”

Jeff laid a hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing softly, “I’ve left this family to take care of itself twice in my lifetime, it was the least I could do. May I ask why you need them?”

The least I could do: goddamn was this family a hive mind sometimes. That didn’t stop Gordon from asking his burning question, “How quickly can we make these waterproof?”

It took all of half a second for Jeff to raise his eyebrows in confusion, followed by one of his trademark grins.

Oh yeah, the Tracy family was coming back

---

“Shhh Allie, keep it on.”

Alan rolled his eyes. Whenever Gordon blindfolded him it always ended poorly. Whether the ultimate bad ending would come to Alan or Gordon completely depended on how previously well-thought-out Gordon planned this to be. Regardless, Alan needed to do something other than chores and college applications since there was none of it left for today. He was getting so good it was kind of bad. In fact, one of the first things he did was drown himself in his work to the point that everything he missed in his captivity was done within the first three days of being back.

And here the public thought Alan and his father had nothing in common.

Alan felt Gordon’s hands on his shoulders the entire time they walked together. Eventually, they paused as Gordon needed to open the door to the outside, which was a great sign, by the way. Alan’s ears were picking up every little noise, including each of the thunks their feet made down the stairs, as well as the whistling of the wind blowing through their hair. Alan didn’t need to take off the blindfold to know it was night. The last thing Alan was looking at before Gordon scared the shit out of him with the blindfold from nowhere was the clock, 10:04 PM.

The thunks suddenly became less hollow, signaling they were on solid ground. It took Alan a couple of seconds longer than he would’ve liked to realize that Gordo was walking them straight towards the pool. Alan, remembering all the times he’d been shoved in it, started to fight back. Only minorly, though, like a baby wolf trying to overtake the Alpha of the pack. In the end, it didn’t matter, as Gordon stopped both of them with a slight push downward on Alan’s shoulders, signaling he didn’t need to walk anymore.

Gordon took his hands away and started speaking when he saw Alan wasn’t going anywhere. He walked around to the front of his brother, “So… this might be a long shot, but you remember those ‘starry lights’ we played with all the time?”

Alan blinked a few times behind the blindfold. Yeah, he did remember them. It was a huge staple between them. The days it got hard, or cold, or when it seemed like nothing would get better, they would pull those lights out and forget everything else. It felt like they were surrounded by a blanket of hope.

Gordon first wanted to do it in some random room at their old house two years after their mother passed, but quiet Alan suggested they go out to the woods. He flapped his tiny hands, and to paraphrase what he said, We’ll have more room! Plus, the real stars will make it even cooler!

From then on, it was just another thing between the two of them. They pulled the lights out when one of them was sad and the other wanted to cheer them up. After their mother’s death, after failing a test at school, after Dad’s disappearance, after Gordon’s hydrofoil crash…

Gordon will forever be grateful for Alan’s ability to be a little piece of shit. He’ll never know how the kid snuck the box into the hospital and he hoped he never found out. The hospital staff wasn’t as thrilled by the lights hung up around the room. Gordon was pretty sure he saw the pic up on ‘Five at one point, though, so at least someone appreciated their talents.

Right, the important matter at hand. Gordon needed to work on his rambling-when-stressed problem, “Well, Allie Allie Allie, guess what I found?”

Before Alan could tilt his head, the blindfold was untied from his head by Gordon. It fell off his face to reveal said older brother standing directly in front of him with a grin on his face that said, ‘you’re not going to believe this.’ Once Gordon saw Alan’s attention was completely on him, he stepped out of the way quickly so Alan’s line of focus could stay on what was in front of him and not just on his brother.

Alan’s breath caught in his throat.

Gordon smirked at his brother’s flabbergasted look, “You know how they say how the ocean isn’t that much different than deep space? Well, I think I found a way to make them even closer.”

Alan held his hand out in front of him only slightly. He was worried if he moved anything that the beautiful sight in front of him would go away. Those wonderful, amazing lights were all submerged in the pool in various spots near the bottom, the refractions making it look like there were twice as many. The pool looked like it had a weird, unique case of the chickenpox. It was breathtaking.

Little puffs of Alan’s breath were condensing into the familiar white clouds in front of his face due to the chill, but he didn’t care. The sight in front of him was much more important. Before he could sign a thank you, or maybe even just cry (which he would hate, thank God for interruptions), Gordon slung an arm around Alan’s shoulders, catching the freckled boy’s attention again.

Gordon waited for those wide, blue eyes to look at him directly before beginning, “I can’t even begin to imagine what happened up there. Part of me wants to be selfish and never come up with thoughts even close to that kind of shit, but… it’s not fair to you.”

Alan blinked and was suddenly turned 90 degrees to be standing front-to-front with Gordon. The older brother continued speaking when he put his hands on Alan’s shoulders, stretching his arms out to their full length, “You don’t… you don’t have to talk about everything, I know that first hand, but… don’t shut us out. You’re not a burden, you’re not a problem, I know that’s a thought of yours that’s been made worse by that bastard but the last thing I want is to--”

Gordon choked off his words due to a mixture of rage and pure sadness bubbling within. Suddenly, he couldn’t look Alan in the eyes anymore, “I just don’t want to fail you any more than I already have.”

Gordon looked down at their feet to watch some of his tears fall to the ground and splish-splash on the concrete. Dammit, he promised a lot of things (mainly himself) that he would be strong for this, but he supposes he was never the best at taking things seriously.

Gordon’s breath hitched at the feeling of two small hands on his cheeks. Those same hands brought his face back up to look at Alan sadly grinning, his own tears starting to form in his blue eyes. Before Gordon could curse himself out for failing this plan so spectacularly, his heart stopped in a good way at a tiny admission, a verbal one.

“Please… don’t make… me cry, too…”

Holy shit. Part of Gordon’s brain thought, ‘sweet, it only took a few weeks, a new record!’ but the other part, the big brother one day I’ll be better than Scott! part leaped a hundred feet in the air out of pure joy. With a laugh, Gordon yanked Alan into his arms and squeezed tight. Alan simply returned the gesture, albeit his arms were around Gordon’s waist, nor was his grip as strong. They did both have tear tracks on their cheeks, however.

Alan was still there. He was still their selfless, annoying, little bro, and he might not be fully back, but it was enough to know that not even the fucking Hood could take him away from them.

It would take a while to get back to normal. Scott would still pass out due to exhaustion from time to time until he fully realized it was all over, John, while not physically up on ‘Five, would take a while to fully come back down to Earth, Virgil was going to be found at that damn piano bench more than in his own room, and God only knew how Kayo or even Dad was going to react as the days went forward.

But they would get there. The Terrible Two were going to make sure of it, one prank at a time.

#fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2020 #gordon tracy #alan tracy #jeff tracy #scott tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #fanfiction #fanfic #my post #my fic #series: rules of alchemy

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kbrock9146 · 4 years

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THIS IS A LONG, LONG STORY. PLEASE READ TO THE END TO UNDERSTAND THE MAGNITUDE OF WHAT HAPPENED. But it is a longgggggggg story.

Ok. Buckle up folks. Here comes some crazy content for you to enjoy during Quarantine. Shout out to @gothicmagpie for letting me know that they were interested. ❤❤❤ Here we go, it's going to be a bumpy ride, and a long story (and yes, I will answer any and all questions afterwards, no worries about offending me or anything).

First things first, here is a picture of my maternal grandparents (featuring the grandmother in question):

I do not know the date of the above picture, but my GF was born in 1895, and my GM, 1898. They were in their late 40s, early 50s in the above picture. That, I do know. My mother was born in 1941, when my GM was 42, and my GF was 45, and this picture was taken sometime after she had been born.

With me so far? Okay, good. So those wonderful people above, they are both on their second marriage by the time of that pic. My GF's first wife died in childbirth, and my GM's first husband had been killed in the coal yard he worked at when a dump truck full of coal backed up and unloaded the coal on top of him. My GF and GM were both single parents in the early 1900s - they were both struggling, and going through a multitude of situations - INCLUDING GOING TO THE MOTHER FUCKING POPE (YES, POPE!) SO THAT THEY COULD GET PERMISSION TO GET MARRIED (the reason for that is another story for ANOTHER time).

Anyhow, they get married, blend their children into one household, have three or four more, for a total of seven, my mom being the youngest. My GF dies in 1962 from damage he took at the Battle of the Argonne during World Word One (he dry-drowned in his sleep). This leaves my GM windowed, and she remains this way until her death.

**as an aside, my GF died right before my mom was to get married to my dad (she was 21, and dad 22, at the time); when my dad came over to stay with my mom's family for the funeral, my deceased GF came to my dad with a message, so this is something that just apparently happens in my family - of course, I knew none of this when I saw my GM decades later**

From my first meeting with my GM, and until her death, she looked pretty much exactly as she does in the pic above. The only thing that really changed was that after she broke her hip for the 2nd time, she was pretty much confined to a wheelchair until she died. But kindly, smiling, gentle, and always wearing basically a mumu, that was my GM until she passed away November 2nd, 1990.

That year, on November 14th, I turned 10. My birthday that year was a bit strained. My dad wasn't exactly phased by what had happened, and while my mom wasn't exactly in pieces over it - my GM had been very sick in her last years and in a nursing home - she was sad, and was trying her best to run a family while dealing with the loss. The situation was made even worse when the wife of her oldest brother (he was 30 when she was born), called and berated and shamed my mom for not coughing up more money for the funeral and burial. My mom was EXTREMELY upset. Out of her other six siblings, she was the only one with a child under 25 at that time (remember, I was 10), and money wasn't exactly free flowing. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, my dad was a Baltimore City Police Officer, and I was going to private school. We weren't rich. And my mom's sister-in-law knew this, she just didn't care. She kept calling and harassing my mom to the point of tears. My mom was miserable; she was being driven to the point of shame and madness and didn't know what to do.

That brings us to the day of the visit. I don't remember why, but I was home alone. It was late in the day, and the sun was setting. I know this because the bedrooms of my house are on the west side, and they warm up nicely as the sun goes down. Out of the three bedrooms, I found myself in the middle one that day. The back room was mine, the middle my mom's, and the front/master bedroom was my dad's. I was not allowed into his room, but the middle room had a door that was shared with the master bedroom. That door was open and there was a noise coming from the bedroom, like someone walking around. I sat at the desk, looking towards the noise and the door, and just waited.

I can't say that I was scared exactly, but I was certainly curious. I cleared my throat, closed up the desk, and swiveled in the chair so that I was looking straight at that shared door. The movement continued, but there was no shadow being cast. I grew kind of bored just waiting, so I remember looking away out of the main bedroom door and then looking back.....

When I looked back, there stood my GM in the shared doorway. She was standing there, unaided, no wheelchair, but still rocking a mumu like a champ, and as solid as any living person. I remember her looking bemused and smiling at me before she said, "Hello."; I was more confused than anything at this point, so I mumbled some sort of greeting, and stood up to walk over towards her. I don't know why that was my first thought, but it was. Anyway, as I was walking over, I could hear that someome else was moving around in the room behind her as well, although I couldn't see who it was at that point.

Before I could get any closer, my GM said that she was here because she wanted to see my mom, and asked if I could go get her. I told her that my mom was out, and her smile faltered for a brief moment before she refocused onto me and asked if I could promise to relay a message. I told her of course I could, and waited for what she had to say. She glanced behind her and into the room for a moment, towards where the noise was coming from, and then looked back at me. She began to tell me that she was happy, and that it was VERY important for me to tell my mom that she was happy. Other things were said, like not to worry about what John's wife was saying in regards to the funeral and burial, she missed us, and a few other things that I honestly can't remember. At the end, noise was still being made in the room behind her, and she could see that I was not really paying attention to her (can you imagine the hubris of not paying attention to a dead relative that has come back with a message from beyond because you're concerned about the noises coming from another room?!?!?! My life has been wild.), so she called the person over who had apparently been making all the noise, and introduced him to me.

So now I have two very solid, very elderly-looking deceased people in my house. And this man, keep in mind I've had three grandfather's, this man is someone I have NEVER seen in my life, but my GM is just TICKLED with this guy. She introduces me to him, and he has the HUGEST smile I have ever seen a person have, and he nods his head in my direction, then looks back at my GM, and reaches out to hold her hand.

From this point on I do not remember any words that were said because I was laser focused on trying to figure out WHO this guy was. When I say in the above paragraph that my GM "introduced" me to him, she did, but the name was literally foreign, and having never heard this man's name before, I couldn't clearly make it out. The only thing I knew at the time was that this guy was NOT either of my grandfather's, I had NEVER seen him before, and this is going to sound crazy (oh, yeah, okay Kim, *THIS* is going to sound crazy.... *THIS* part coming up is going to sound "crazy"..... ok, Kim), but he just *looked* Italian. I didn't recognize his name or his face, but looking at him, I just remember thinking that this dude was Italian. And that made me really, really confused because my mom's side of the family and my dad's side of the family both came over together from Germany - they settled on the same street, for goodness sakes, so I had NO IDEA where this Italian guy came from. But I could tell that they made each other really happy in whatever afterlife they were in.

Then my mind started wandering even more because I was thinking to myself that if my GM and this random dude are having a blast in the afterlife, where are my grandfathers? Who are they with? What does this mean? Are there soul mates? When is my mom comimg home? What's going to happen when I die? WHO IS THIS GUY? Why are they in my dad's room? Why is anyone thinking this is okay to lay on a 10 year old? But for real, WHO IS THIS GUY? Does he speak? Why hasn't he spoken? What is going on?

About this time is when either my GM could tell that I was about done, or she herself had done all she could in this plane of existence, because I remember her saying, "Now, you'll tell her won't you?" And I let out a humourless laugh because we all knew that at that point in my mom's life, she didn't believe in ghosts or anything paranormal. So, I kinda laughed, and glanced away and said, "I'll remember, but she's not going to believe me." As I glanced back, they were gone, and the house was silent.

Many weeks went by and I said nothing. My dad, who was very "sensitive" to that sort of thing, and had had supernatural experiences, I avoided telling him because he would have thought I was lying and hit me. He didn't like being bothered with stuff. And my mom, well, she didn't believe in the supernatural, so even though she would have listened to me and let me get the whole story out, she wouldn't have believed a word of it. So for weeks and weeks I kept this story to myself and said nothing. Not saying anything was driving me crazy, especially because I wanted to know who the guy was that had been with my GM.

It was just my mom and myself one night at dinner. And that night my mom broke down over being harrassed about the funeral/burial by her sister in law. After we had finished eating, I took a deep breath and asked my mom if we could talk. She said sure, so I gingerly brought up her mom. I could tell that it wasn't a conversation she really wanted to have, so I just jumped right to the heart of the matter......

"Mom? GM was married twice, right?"

"Yes. I told you about that."

"I know. I was just making sure."

My mom looked at me strangely, "Why would you want to 'make sure', about something like that? What even brought this up?"

Not really knowing what to do at this point, I just jumped in with both feet and started telling her the story of my GM's visit. As predicted, my mom looked thoroughly unimpressed with what I was saying.... that is, until I mentioned the Italian guy.

My mom was an olive skinned woman, but when I mentioned the Italian guy, she turned white as a sheet. She asked me to repeat myself, and then, without a word, my mom got up and left the kitchen. I heard her climb into the attic, and there she stayed for quite some time. She had been gone so long, I was starting to doubt that she was coming back, and I got scared that I had said something that upset her so badly, that she had locked herself in the attic. Just as the situation crescendoed, and I was going over how I was going to explain everything to my dad when he got home and wanted to know why my mom was barricaded in the attic, my mom returned to the kitchen, out of breath, with a very huge, very old book, that she triumphantly thumped down on the table, hard.

With a flourish, she flipped open the book reveal two tin-types. One was a young woman, fashionably dressed, and posing as per the norms at the time. My mother asked, "Do you know who that is?"

I squinted a little harder at the picture. It was my GM. Young. I had never seen her young before. Was that a fox she had around her neck? She was dressed to the NINES. As I sat admiring the tin-type of my GM, I happened to glance over at the other side of the book, at the second tin-type.

This one was a bit different.

This one was a fashionably dressed young man.

THE man.

The man that had appeared all those weeks ago with my GM.

I looked up at mom. She was looking at me expectantly. "Is that him?", she asked. I nodded. It was. Much younger, but the eyes, the nose.... very much the same.

"Who is this?" I asked. My mom started to explain to me as she bade me to continue looking through the book. Before my GF, before my GM's first husband, there was this gentleman, my GM's Italian lover.

The book was full of letters, mementos, fabric, flowers, pictures, just about anything that they had sent back and forth to each other. My GM not only spoke German and English, but Italian too! Their handwritten letters were intermingled with the keepsakes within this book.

No one else in the family knew about my GM's Italian lover. The only reason my mom knew is because as my GM's caretaker towards the end, she had found this and asked her mom about it. Apparently my GM and this Italian gentleman had been together for a very long time. Something happened that forced him to return to Italy - I'm not sure of it was Visa related, or if someone had taken ill - but he had asked my GM to come to Italy with him, and she had declined.

Throughout the book, there were more letters from him after he had gone back to Italy, wherein he was trying to figure out different ways for my GM and him to be together, but eventually the letters stopped (probably because my GM refused to go to Italy). Shortly thereafter, my GM married her first husband, a fellow German by the name of Walter. And the rest is, as they say, history.

So, what did I learn from all this? I learned that once you die, you don't necessarily end up with who you were with while you were alive; you can make house calls to your grandchildren and leave messages for your own, grown children. And being on a different plane of existence will not stop a person from throwing shade when it's justified because the living are acting a fool.

Ah, the mysteries of the supernatural.

#personal #maternal grandmother #grandmother #mom #dad #supernatural #04/26/20 #italian #german #surprise #10 year old me needs counseling

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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years

Text

i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 2: i guess truth is what you believe in

read chapter one

read on ao3 here

Amy and Leah visit family, a holiday is celebrated, and illness takes over the Santiago-Peralta household.

december

If there is one thing Amy is certain of, stuck in the car with 97 miles to go and an overtired toddler in the back seat, it is that something must be seriously wrong with her.

No one in their right mind says yes to a family weekend upstate with all siblings and their families nine days before Christmas. Not when it’s a three-hour drive. Not while they’re already left alone to care for their child for the weekend due to a time-sensitive and crucial opportunity coming up in a case Jake has worked for two months. Not when previously mentioned child is recovering from a cold and is ten times more cranky and attention-craving than normal.

Except - apparently - Amy.

She doesn't know what the fuck she was thinking.

She knows some thought went into her plan, such as the idea to drive late at night so Leah could sleep in the car. She simply wishes it could have worked, because right now the toddler is singing Wheels On The Bus for the seventeenth time in forty minutes and Amy feels like her head is going to explode. It's a quarter to ten, over two hours past the kid’s bedtime, and so far she refuses to fall asleep. She's wide awake in her seat, chatting and laughing and singing like there’s no tomorrow. If Amy had as much as a spare drop of energy left -even better, if there had been another parent in the car to focus on entertaining their child - the whole thing would have been adorable, but tonight it’s exhausting above anything else.

“Maaa-maaa?” Leah shouts the word from the back seat, wildly kicking her legs against the back cushioning, and Amy has to take a deep breath before she can reply in a calm tone.

“Yes, baby?”

“Are we there?”

“Not yet, Lee.”

Amy can see the reflection of Leah scrunching her forehead in the baby car mirror. “Why?”

“Because we still have a little way left to drive. We’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Soon?” Leah shines up, kicking her legs again. “When is soon?”

“It will go faster if you close your eyes for a while,” She tries, using one of the oldest parenting tricks in the book. “I promise.”

“Not tired!” Her daughter responds in her cheeriest voice, and Amy gives herself a mental pat on the back for stifling a groan.

They repeat this exchange about ten times or so before Leah tires of it and returns to her singing. At that point, Amy’s counting it as a win. As much as she loves being this kid’s mom, there are indubitably times - and late-night drives with an overtired two-year-old in the back seat - when she loves it less.

Then Leah falls asleep for the last ten miles of the drive and clutches her arms and legs around Amy like a koala to a tree when she’s lifted out of her car seat and carried to bed, and it’s easier than ever to love being a mom.

There’s never an uneventful day with all of the Santiagos in the same house, and it’s not any more relaxing with the extra presence of six partners, twelve grandchildren, and one dog. From the moment Amy and Leah make their way down to the kitchen for breakfast, and the toddler finds out there might be a cookie baking session with grandma happening today, the day is in full swing. Leah joins her in facetiming Jake for a few minutes to say good morning, but after that, Amy barely sees her daughter for more than a split second in several hours.

The chaos is a welcome distraction. She plays Cards Against Humanity with Luis’s teenage daughters and Julian until Simon starts begging them to help him make a YouTube video, and she teaches five-year-old Noah how to draw the perfect portrait of a horse. She reads a story to three-year-old Maisie, and she laughs heartily at the sight of Leah chasing Oscar the Bichon Frise around while yelling Kitty Cat!. For a few, wondrous hours, Amy manages to live in blissful oblivion over the two starkly negative pregnancy tests she unceremoniously shoved in the bathroom trash can before leaving yesterday, and it feels like heaven.

It feels like heaven up until she joins the crew of brothers and partners currently taking up space in the kitchen. Her brother Isaac is parked in the middle of the kitchen couch, feeding the youngest Santiago member, just-turned one-month-old Milo, with a bottle; around him Camila, Luis, Tony and his wife Clara all fawn over and admire every aspect of the newborn’s appearance. Christian, Julian and Julian’s husband Lucas are at the other end of the kitchen cuddling with and doting on the exhausted dog, and Amy silently curses her allergies for making her unable to join them. Simon just brought out his camera in the living room and she refuses to risk another unwilling YouTube appearance, so her only option is to sit down with the team of awestruck baby-admirers.

“You forget how tiny they are,” Luis says, watching the infant with a nostalgic glance in his eyes. “I’ve had five, and you never get used to it.”

“You don’t,” Camila confirms with a small laugh, reaching out to stroke the baby’s closed fist with her thumb and index finger. “Not even I do. I’m shocked every time!”

“I thought I remembered everything from when Maisie was born.” Isaac grins, giving the empty baby bottle to Camila and carefully lifting the infant upright against his shoulder. “But then he comes out, and I think he must be several pounds lighter because surely Maisie was never this tiny, but he was bigger!” He shakes his head. “It’s insane.”

“He’s so cute,” Tony chimes in. “Do you get to sleep anything? I’m nervous about that.” His left hand is resting next to Clara’s on top of her visible baby bump. Amy lets out an audible snort upon hearing about her brother’s main cause for worry, but Isaac just grins.

“You get used to it. It’ll probably be worse for Clara anyway.”

“Great.” Clara grimaces, turning to Amy. “I can’t even sleep now! I either have a baby sleeping on top of my bladder or kicking me in the ribs for the whole night.”

“I remember.” She smiles, thinking back to the few times late in her pregnancy she’d made Jake sleep on the couch only because she couldn’t stand listening to his snoring on top of it all. “It sucks, and then everyone keeps telling you to sleep while you still can and you’re trying not to punch them.”

“Exactly!” Her sister-in-law laughs, tucking a strand of red-blonde hair behind her ear. “At least everyone says it’s worth it.”

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have done it so many times,” says Camila, and Clara looks relieved. “Oh, Amy, you need to hold Milo for a little while! He’s been in everyone’s arms except for yours today. Isaac, send him to Amy.”

“Oh.” She squirms in her seat, a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. “It’s okay. I was just going to look for Leah anyway -”

“Leah’s upstairs doing puzzles with Sarah and Samuel,” Isaac explains, referring to David’s two-year-old twins. “She’s fine. You can hold him, Ames.”

“I think I’m good… okay, no choice, I see.” Her younger brother’s already holding out the infant to her, and before she can adjust to the thought, there’s a tiny, yawning baby in her arms.

It’s achingly familiar, yet it feels like it’s been forever.

At first, it’s like every muscle fiber in her body tenses with the sudden awareness that there's a fragile, helpless human in her arms and the weight of terrifying responsibility resting with her for a moment. It's been two years since Amy last held a newborn, and she certainly forgot how breakable they feel when they haven't learned to support their own head. Then Milo lets out a content sigh, his mouth twitching like he's smiling at her, and although she knows he's too small and it's likely just gas, the brief facial expression makes her feel chosen.

She's missed this, she realizes. Noting the classic Santiago baby appearance traits, the head of dark hair and the little button nose, she thinks of countless hours spent holding her own clingy newborn two years ago, and bites her lip when she remembers that she still has no idea when she’ll get to do it again. Milo’s adorable, and Amy's secretly wishing he could stay in her arms forever or she could steal him and take him home with her, but he's also a painful reminder of what she wants most and doesn't have yet.

“He likes you,” Isaac comments, nodding towards the infant. “You and Jake haven’t thought of having another one?”

She freezes at the sound of his question, instantly clueless about what constitutes a good reply. She could tell him the truth, of course, and probably receive a flood of well-meaning advice about the best ways to conceive, but doing so would lead to expectations. Santiagos aren’t known for struggling to have kids, and she’s terrified of handling a hoard of family members subtly trying to figure out whether or not she's pregnant every time they see her. It's enough pressure coming from herself. She doesn't need people adding to it - least of all her family.

“Oh,” she says instead, avoiding eye contact by playing with one of Milo’s fists. “Well, we’re not sure yet.”

“Two years is the best age span between siblings,” Luis chimes in. “We always tried to aim for two years and our kids are super close.”

“Yes, yes, two years is perfect,” Camila agrees, nodding eagerly. “The adjustment is much more difficult when they’ve turned three, or four, and suddenly they’re not the youngest anymore… Sometimes I think Tony never got over his grudges against Simon!”

“I’m telling you, mom, that’s not it, we have a grudge because four years ago he made me do that awful cinnamon challenge that almost gave me an asthma attack and filmed it -”

“Two years is great,” Christian interrupts his younger brother’s story without remorse. “We went for two years between Isabel and Noah and it was perfect. You do want to have more than one kid, right?”

Amy has never wished harder for a baby in her arms to start crying.

She needs to get away, out of the situation where she has to hear and answer these sudden intrusive questions, but Milo shows no signs of waking. She’s stuck with a panicky, claustrophobic sensation in her chest and a forced smile on her lips.

“We do,” she replies to Christian’s question, weighing every word carefully. “We’re just not sure when.”

“No point in waiting,” says Isaac, looking at the baby in Amy’s arms. “I wish we’d had Milo earlier!”

There must be a lack of air in the room, or her allergy medicines have stopped working and are making her react to the dog, because she can’t shake the feeling she’s suffocating. She's feeling trapped even in the spacious kitchen, and although she knows everyone has their eyes fixed on Milo, she can't shake the feeling it's her they're staring at.

She wonders if they're seeing right through her; if they somehow know about negative pregnancy tests of yesterday, or if they can sense her desperation and frustration in the fake smile plastered on her face.

“I suppose you never know,” she answers somehow, heart pounding too quickly. “I, uh… have to go to the bathroom. Do you want to hold him for a little while, Clara?”

Amy senses eyes on her as she sneaks out the kitchen, hurries through the hallway and grabs her coat before heading out and sitting down on the porch, but she can't bring herself to care. She has to fill her lungs with fresh air and get away from well-meaning but prying questions, or she’s going to have a full-on breakdown.

There’s a layer of snow on the ground, too thin for any children or adults to be playing in but enough to give a sense of hope for a white Christmas. She scrapes her fingers through the minuscule ice crystals gathered on the wooden decking, drawing an uneven heart with her index finger and following it with another.

You do want to have more than one kid, right?

She draws a third, smaller heart below the two bigger ones.

You and Jake haven’t thought of having another one anytime soon?

She draws a fourth tiny heart next to the third one.

No point in waiting.

She hides her fist in the sleeve of her winter coat, rubbing it over her drawings and turning them into nothingness. She curses the fact that Jake’s working, that he and Rosa are following up some highly important leads today and their mission would likely be sabotaged if she called and interrupted her husband now, and she curses the fact that Leah’s having the time of her life playing with her cousins and would probably scream in protest if Amy tried to steal her for cuddles.

It’s not too cold outside with her warm coat keeping her comfortable, but she’s still shivering, so she wraps her arms around herself and tries to blink away the tears taking form in her eyes.

She’s aware she’s being ridiculous. Having a baby takes more than a couple months of trying in many, many cases - the majority of them, even. She’s far from unique, yet a sneaking suspicion and vexing anxiety are lingering with her.

No point in waiting.

She puts one hand on her chest and one hand over her stomach, trying to focus on the fresh air flowing in through her nose and out through her mouth, filling and leaving her for each inhale and exhale.

“Just relax,” she whispers to herself, pretending it's Jake's voice saying the words, his unwavering belief that it will all be fine she's listening to.

“Are you sure you’re still my sister? Have you had some kind of personality change?”

“Huh?” Amy almost jumps at the sound of Julian’s voice, bringing her out of her focused breathing and forcing her to look up.

“You’re willingly outside in the cold weather,” he declares, slumping down next to her. “Even with a coat on, that's impressive for you.” She notes that he's only wearing a hoodie himself and seems unbothered by the temperature.

“I needed fresh air.”

“Because of Oscar? I swear his breed is supposed to be allergy-friendly, we researched that stuff in depth. Maybe your allergies are just undefeatable?”

“No, it’s fine as long as I don't pet him.” Amy places a hand on her brother's shoulder, squeezing it. “Oscar’s great. Leah's in love with him.”

“Isn't he amazing?” Julian's grin is comically wide, his eyes sparkling with undiluted pride. “He can sit, and roll, and catch, and play dead if he gets enough candy! Parenthood is incredible. I’m so glad our kids get along.” He doesn't entirely sound like he’s joking, and Amy can't help but laugh at his excitement. “So if it wasn't Oscar, why did you leave?”

“Were you listening to the conversation?”

“Eh, bits and pieces. How so?”

She sighs. “They - mom, and Isaac and Christian, mostly - interrogated me about whether we’re planning to have another baby anytime soon.”

“And you’re not?”

“We are! We’re actively trying for it.”

“Oh! Cool,” Julian nods, scratching the stubble on his chin. “I can get behind that. I wouldn't have anything against reproducing with those Peralta genes either if I could.” Amy elbows her brother in the side at that, probably way harder than necessary, and it makes him gasp in offense. “Hey! It’s just objective facts that he's attractive!”

“I’m telling Lucas you said that.”

“Lucas agrees. Either way - if you actually are trying, what's with the tears and the sudden storming out?”

“I didn't storm out,” she protests, and he gives her a meaning look of judgment as if to say yes, you did. “And it's nothing.”

Julian snorts. “Sure it is.”

“It's not a big deal.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It's just making me a little stressed is all.”

“A little.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Amy groans, placing her head in both hands and quickly running her fingers through her hair. There's a knot in the back of it, and she busies herself trying to pull it apart as she speaks. “We are trying. It's just not going very well yet, I guess. It’s making me nervous, and it's not something I want to tell everyone in our family about, because, well… we’re not exactly known for struggling with that.”

Julian is silent, and there’s a moment where Amy wonders if she’s managed the impossible. For all their countless petty fights and differences, Julian has always had a reply to offer her. Sometimes he’s supportive, sometimes questioning, and sometimes he’s all over judging her decisions, but he never ignores her worries when she chooses to confide in him. It throws her off to see him take so long to answer her now, and she watches him twist the white gold wedding ring on his finger absentmindedly while he grimaces.

“No,” he says right as she starts to consider tapping him on the shoulder to make sure he’s conscious. “I guess we’re not known for struggling with anything. Has this… been a problem for a long time?”

“A couple of months.”

“...Is that a long time? I’m not great with this heterosexual business. I’m much better with waiting times for adopting a dog.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “It’s not that long. But it’s longer when you don’t have a lot of time to begin with.” Julian looks about as perplexed as if she’d been trying to explain the intricate details of quantum physics to him, and she clarifies. “Fertility decreases as you age.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“I’m thirty-nine. Maybe I shouldn't panic yet, but in a year, or two…” Amy shakes her head. “It gets really low. Higher chances of miscarrying. Chromosome variations. Premature birth. You name it. Basically, the sooner I get pregnant now, the better and safer it is for everyone.”

“I see.”

“So there's some time pressure,” she explains further, connecting her hands inside the coat sleeves to eliminate the cold that's started to seep in. “And it’s making me terrified something's wrong with me already. That it's not going to work. That we’ll never be able to have a second kid. I know that's maybe not the end of the world, but… I really, really want it, and I’d be heartbroken if it didn’t happen.”

A pair of stubborn, humiliating teardrops make their way down her cheeks at the thought, and she untangles her hands to quickly wipe them away.

“I’m sure it'll work out, Ames.” Julian's smile is partly sympathetic and partly insecure when he speaks, like this subject is miles out of his comfort zone but he's trying his best anyway. “As you said, two months is nothing, right? Mom was like, 42 when she had Simon. Surely if anyone's got the genes for this, it’s our family.”

“Yeah. It's never a guarantee, though, and I can’t handle their questions. Two years is the best time between siblings,” she imitates in an exaggerated high-pitched tone, and Julian laughs heartily. “As if I wasn’t already pressuring myself about the same thing. But I can't tell them that, because then they’d start asking.”

“Mm, our family does lack all understanding of what privacy is sometimes.” Julian grins. “There are several options even for gay men! Surrogates! Adoption! I read this article in a magazine where a pair co-parented with lesbians!” His shrill imitation tone is awful and hilarious at the same time, making Amy snicker. “I think she was mad at me for weeks after I told her we were happy with a dog. She means well, but it just becomes a lot.”

“Doesn’t get easier when it’s something you already want, either.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

“If not, I’m pro-dogs. They’re pretty much like children, except you don’t have to create a college fund for them. A win-win situation if it weren’t for the fact that owning a dog could probably kill you. But other than that!” Julian stretches his arms over his head, looking mighty proud of himself. “Solid.”

“I’m already busy trying to talk Jake out of buying a cat,” says Amy, massaging her temples at the thought. “But he’s managed to get Leah obsessed with them, so I think I’m losing.”

“That’s why she’s calling Oscar a cat! Wow. Jake’s a genius.”

“Well, that and she’s two. And please don’t ever tell him that, because his ego would literally explode.”

Amy can feel her face going numb from the cold outside, a sudden gust of wind coming at them and making her eyes tear for a new reason. The fact that she’s lost track of time hits her, awakening an uneasiness and a sudden need to get inside and check up on how her daughter’s doing, so she gives Julian a quick, rare hug, and is surprised when he squeezes her back for a long time.

“Thanks for coming out,” she mumbles, and he nods.

“Of course. I just don’t like seeing you cry.”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet.”

“You look so weird when you do,” he says with a smirk, and she rolls her eyes at the mock insult. “No one should have to see that.”

“Fuck off, Jules.”

“Yep. Now let’s go make sure our kids are still alive and haven’t eaten any couches. Is that a thing with human children too?”

january

It’s a good Christmas.

It’s a Christmas where Amy can allow herself some time to relax and unwind, put her worries aside and focus on her family during the ten days both her and Jake manage to garner off work. It’s a long-awaited and dearly welcomed break from early daycare drop-offs, ten-minute-dinners, and infinite planning to make sure nothing is forgotten.

Instead there is time for slow wakeups, snuggling with Leah when she crawls into their bed in the early hours of the morning and giving in to her request of watching iPad in their bed only so they can keep their eyes closed for a little while longer. There's time for late-night conversations over a glass of wine that don't feel rushed because at least they don't have somewhere to be tomorrow, and there's time to properly see friends outside of work for the first time in what feels like forever. They go to dinner at Terry’s house, watch Rosa enjoy the indoor trampoline park even more than Leah does, and they gratefully accept Charles’ offer to babysit their daughter for a night. Amy figures the man has a specific motive in mind, but then Jake suggests they spend the night at a hotel and Leah gets ecstatic at the mention of watching Disney movies with her uncle Charles and Nikolaj, so she ends up saying yes. She’s only human, after all, and she’s not going to neglect the rare and precious chance of a sleep-in.

(The date also times mysteriously well with when she should be ovulating.)

(She does not want to ask.)

Even the yearly Christmas dinner with the Santiagos ends up being survivable. Although there are kids crying, odd snarky comments between Tony and Simon, and Leah outright refuses to wear anything but her sequined dinosaur shirt and glittery tights to the event, things proceed smoothly and Amy’s stress levels remain on the healthier part of the scale. She watches Jake hold and make funny faces at Milo and can feel her mom giving them meaning looks from across the room, but she breathes through it and silently thanks the Universe when Leah chooses that exact moment to climb onto Amy’s lap and ask if they can read one of her new books. Sure, part of her wishes she could be gifting her husband a crafted announcement with a baby onesie and a positive pregnancy test much like the ones she’s pinned on Pinterest, but the tender way he hugs her thank you after he opens his gift and sees the photo book filled with pictures with him and Leah, is more than enough to ease her sorrow. He gifts her a gold necklace with the letters J and L in separate miniature hearts, and when he tells her it’s so she can always be keeping them next to her own heart, she tears up and kisses him so long and ardently that he looks a little dazed, blinking with surprise when they part.

It’s a good New Year’s Eve, too. They spend the first part of the evening at the Holt-Cozner New Year’s Party, listening to their daughter proudly tell every guest she’s going to stay up until midnight, and then they try not to laugh when she passes out the moment she’s in her car seat at half-past nine. Jake and Amy end their year in pajamas on the couch, toasting in champagne just for the sake of it and going right to bed afterward.

Next year we’ll have another baby, she thinks to herself before falling asleep about fifteen minutes into the new year, a new sense of shimmering optimism lingering with her. It has to have worked by then.

January is hell. Everyone knows it, specifically, everyone who’s had children at daycare, because January means no one is healthy and neither Jake nor Amy manage a full week at work without taking time off to care for a sick child or themselves. Amy prays they’ll make it through without any cases of stomach flu, but such seems to have been too much to ask, because she’s woken up by devastating crying from Leah’s room on the one night Jake’s doing a night shift and she knows before the two-year-old’s even started retching.

She doesn’t get any sleep that night.

She doesn’t get any sleep the next night either, because when Leah stops throwing up and Amy feels like she can breathe again when the child keeps some applesauce down and asks if she can watch Doc McStuffins, it only takes three hours before Jake starts complaining about feeling sick.

January must surely be some twisted sort of a joke, she thinks, and disinfects her hands an extra time before she goes to remind her very miserable husband that he’s not actually dying.

It’s only natural, amid the virus-filled havoc, that it takes her a few days to realize she hasn’t gotten her period.

Come to think of it, she is feeling a bit nauseous. The excessive fatigue and emotional imbalance she knows were early symptoms in her first pregnancy is harder to distinguish from the exhaustion after two intense days of caring for poorly family members, but she’s a mom and a Santiago and she categorically never gets sick.

She gives the nausea a day, waiting for it to break out into the same flu Jake and Leah are already victims of, but it doesn’t. It stays the same.

Amy’s never been so excited about nausea in her life.

She waits until Leah’s gone to bed, falling asleep in Amy’s arms on the couch. The two-year-old’s still not quite her energetic, bubbly self and has been stuck to her parents like a needy band-aid for most of the day, and it could have been tiring if it hadn’t also meant lots of cuddles. Right now, though, Amy's arms and back are happy to get a break from carrying the kid around while she lays down next to Jake instead, spooning him and receiving a grateful smile when she starts playing with his hair.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

“Dying. I think I might be dead already,” he groans before turning his head and looking her in the eyes with feigned seriousness. “Please say something nice at my funeral and promise me you'll take care of Charles when I'm gone.”

“You're not dying, Jake.”

“How d’you know?”

“Because you haven't thrown up since last night and you only have a slight fever,” she reminds him, feeling his lukewarm forehead. “You're fine.”

“I am definitely much better with a hot girl draped on top of me,” he says with a smug expression, his hand gently stroking under her old NYPD shirt up her back. She rolls her eyes, because looks haven't exactly been the top priority for the last three days and she's not sure when she last washed her hair, yet Jake never stops making an effort to charm her. “How are you feeling, Ames?”

“Actually, I've been kind of nauseous all day. But I'm not sure it's stomach flu.”

“Huh? What else would it be?”

“I'm thinking,” she presses her index finger to his chest, “maybe I should take a pregnancy test.”

“Oh.” He squints at her. “Why?”

Amy gives him an exasperated look.

“Okay, yeah. But you’ve also spent the last three days taking care of your sick family. Leah was throwing up on us. Are you sure you're not just ill?”

“I have a good feeling,” she insists, because she does - there's a renewed sense of hope and blind faith that perhaps this could be it, resting with her. “And I never get sick.”

“Once again, your daughter was vomiting on you and I'm still convinced I might be dying. This is a brutal virus, Ames.”

“Clearly.” She runs her fingers through his messier-than-usual curls again, and his mouth shapes into a content smile despite his still worried eyes. “I’m still going to take that test, though. In case.”

“In case,” he repeats slowly. “Well, it’s your body.”

“Exactly.” She kisses his forehead. “You get it. I’ll be right back.”

Amy takes these tests with ease now. She’s been doing them two, three times extra following every first negative in a desperate hope for the result to change. False negatives are common, test results are safer the longer after a missed period they’re taken, and there’s no reason not to test an extra time. Long story short, she's becoming a pro at taking pregnancy tests, but so far the single lines and minus signs are staying the same.

She says a silent prayer this one will be an exception.

Plastic cap off, pee for five seconds, plastic cap back on, lay the test flat and wait while trying not to freak out. She manages all steps but the final.

She carries the little plastic stick out to the living room coffee table gently as if it had been made of glass.

“Three minutes,” she informs Jake, and he nods while she sets a timer on her phone. In three minutes, they'll know whether her good feeling is right or dead wrong, and the nausea increases but this time Amy thinks it's nerves.

She doesn't want to stare, but she does anyway, waiting for a second line to appear no matter how faint. Jake sits up next to her, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, and she manages a weak smile without lifting her eyes from the test.

The timer goes off without a second line appearing.

Amy lifts the test to inspect it closer, but there's not even a hint of anything. She gives it to Jake for a second opinion, and he inspects it just as closely before shaking his head and mumbling a quiet sorry, babe.

She's not pregnant this month either.

“It’s okay, Ames. Three months is nothing.”

She doesn’t realize there are tears in her eyes until they’re trailing down her cheeks and Jake’s hand is there, wiping them away. She presses on his wrist to move it, make him stop because she’s not okay and she doesn’t want him pressuring her to feel anything but the searing disappointment coursing through her veins.

“It’s not,” she says, shaking her head. “I just feel so stupid. I thought I was feeling something.”

“You’re not stupid,” he tells her, and the tenderness in his voice erases her annoyance. “You want this really bad. I do, too, but… well, it’s not my body.”

“Not your body being a massive failure.”

“Hey!” Jake holds up one hand like he’s making a stop motion. “No one talks that way about my wife!”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m serious! You don’t get to say those things, okay? You know it’s not true.” She hums a doubting sound, and he sighs, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Ames, we’ll just try again. We already did a great job once, and there are moments I wish we hadn’t, because if we didn’t have a toddler in daycare I would be so much healthier… okay, I still don’t regret it,” he adds. “Except maybe the daycare part, because I swear I’m sick all the time.”

“You love our daycare! Without it, you’d never get to eat that Scientology-guy’s chocolate chip cookies at every parent meeting.”

“Fair point. Craig, right? Weirdly good baker. Fine - I guess I don’t regret the daycare either. But you’re about to.”

This time, she’s the one squinting at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Still feeling nauseous?”

“Kind of, why are you… oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Your immune system isn’t undefeatable!”

“It’s still better than yours,” she counters, and Jake just grins.

“But not undefeatable.”

She gives him a slow nod, trying to hide the despondency on her face as she takes the negative test from his hands.

“I’m just going to throw this away.”

Amy is certain of it when she wakes up three hours later, almost throwing herself out of bed to make it to the bathroom in time - January is officially and unquestionably hell.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction #sorry for being so rude about january don't take it personally if you love january #it's just.. everyone's sick

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bywandandsword · 5 years

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Ok so, just now for that last post the generator shot out ‘Simple Country Protagonist of Noble Birth’, and that’s essentially one of my OCs so here’s her story if your interested

The takes place in the 1880-90s. When the story starts, Simon’s been on the run for almost five years, dressed as a boy, and half the time she forgets that she’s not one. She spent six months riding up and down the river on the steamboat and got off in Missouri to find other work, hopping from job to job, always reading the papers for any news from New Orleans, and has gotten very good at pretending to be just another young man looking for work. She spent a few months riding the rails, with the vague notion of California or Canada or where ever, just always on the move. Margaritte’s family down south has gotten very powerful, and even more so when she married again, this time to an oil baron turned senator. Simon doesn’t know if Marg is still hunting for her, but isn’t about to risk being found. At the start of the story, she finds herself in Kansas, following a river she was told would lead her to a road, which she could follow to a railway, but either she’s lost or it’s way father than she anticipated, she’s almost out of food, and it’s late September, so it’s getting cooler than is comfortable for someone without a jacket at night. That’s when she sees a farm, miles away from anything, and all the residents are having their lunch outside, enjoying the some of the last few pleasant sunny days of the year. Well, this is too easy, Simon thinks, she’ll just take a bit of bread, a bit of meat and cheese, maybe a better knife, and be on her way with none the wiser, just like she’d done a dozen times in the last few years, she’s long gotten over any moral debate about stealing. Only this time after she grabs what she wants, an incident involving an insistent horse leads to her being discovered. The oldest son Michael (who has two younger twin sibs), wants to take her into town right then and hand this thieving boy over to the law. The father, an older man named Mr. Elias Blez, sees how travel worn and ragged the youth is, how he didn’t take anything but food, and knows that winter is almost upon them, and thinking they’ve been needing a bit of help around the farm anyway, makes Simon a deal. If Simon agrees to work for them as a farm hand until May, they’ll let him leave with as much food and supplies as they can spare and won’t turn him into the law. Mr. Belz also makes it clear that if Simon does try to run, he wouldn’t make it out of the county. It’s black mail, but Mr. Belz think’s its ultimately going to prevent Simon dying of exposure or worse somewhere. Simon, who doesn’t feel like she has much of a choice, agrees. Almost immediately, Mrs. Johanna Belz figures out that Simon isn’t a man, but Simon is like, “We already have an agreement, I won’t be treated any different because of this realization” (cause guess who doesn’t ID as a woman anymore but who doesn’t have the vocabulary to say she’s genderqueer!) and the family hesitantly agrees to let this weird half-feral runaway be. So, she helps them do the last of the harvest and the culling and the rest of the winter preparations. Michael expects Simon to rob them blind and run away any moment now. Simon is secretly glad to have a place to stay for the winter and actually grows to care a great deal for this family, though she still puts up the distanced grumpy front she started with. They go into town sometimes and Simon always presents as male. As winter goes on, Simon gets the first taste in a long time of what it’s like to be in a family again and all the feelings she’s suppressed start bubbling up. Once, after a long day, a family friend and his kids brings over some food, booze, and instruments and the two groups have an impromptu party. Simon gets shnockered and when she gets pressured and dared to sing something, she grabs the fiddle and preforms an old diddy her father used to play in French, then a piece by Bach, then a waltz. And once she’s felt the shape of French in her mouth, her first language, she doesn’t release it easily, the more she drinks the more French she speaks and the more the Belzs wonder how the hell a ragged vagabond they found stealing from them acquired training in classical violin and learned French.

Flashback: Her full name is Marie Simone Madeline Lereau de Saint-Maxent, but everyone just called her Maggie. She got this absurdly long name cause she happens to be the eldest child of the wealthy merchant Saint-Maxent family, living in New Orleans. Her father is gone a lot for business and she’s an only child but she has her mother and tutors for company and spends most of her childhood receiving a strict, classical education, even spending a few summers at a boarding school in Paris. When she’s 14, her mother gives birth to her younger brother, Jean René, but she dies shortly after. Obviously everyone is devastated, but Father decides his children need a mother and, as was commonly done at the time, he marries a recently widowed woman with three children of her own, Margaritte. It starts out pleasant as it could be, but as Maggie ages, and Father refuses to change his will to prefer Margaritte’s children over Maggie and Jean, Marg gets manipulative and controlling of Maggie, though never towards baby Jean. The years roll on in this tense way until, when Maggie is 17, Father, Maggie, and two of Marg’s children catch the Fever. Father dies, but Maggie and the other youths recover. Marg uses this as an opportunity to force Maggie to sign paperwork denouncing her claim to the inheritance, and produces a forged will to back it up. She’s paid off the police and the lawyers to make it stick and threatens that if Maggie turned up dead, no one would know that she didn’t die from fever too. Maggie refuses and that night, men sent by Marg break into her room and try to drag her out, but she manages to get free of them, grab one of their guns, and kills one of the assailants. The others flee. She grabs as much clothes, money, and just, stuff that she can fit into a bag and runs. She catches a train that night to Baton Rouge. She’s still got the gun and the whole train ride, she’s processing wtf just happened and cleaning the blood off her hands and worrying about her brother and wondering if it was really fever that killed her father or poison, but by the time she gets to Baton Rouge, she’s together enough to think. She uses her mother’s maiden name, gets in contact with a friend, the son of a family servant, and rents a room in a low-key b&b and waits for the newspapers. Sure enough, they report that all members of the Saint-Maxent family had died, except the youngest, and that Marg find herself a fortunate and exceedinglyy wealthy new heiress. Her contact reports that Marg’s men are still looking for Maggie and offers to help her disappear. They sell what valuables Maggie brought with her, except the gun, she cuts her hair, starts going by Simon. She buys some of men’s clothes clothes, using enough money to bribe her way onto temporary employment on a steam boat headed north.

Simon doesn’t say anything more about it until almost February. By this point, she’s grown to love and trust the Belzes and their community and vice versa, Michael has grown to trust her too (especially after Plot and Hijinks), and when he stopped being a dick to her, she befriended him and has feelings for him but like hell is she going to admit it to herself much less anyone else. She’s starting to think this might be someplace she can stay, actually build a life, a home. Then Marg’s name shows up in the paper. I haven’t figured it out but for business reasons Marg has bought a house in the closest big city, maybe Kansas City or Dodge City? and is using it as a base of operations for a branch of her business. But that means she and many of her people are less than a stones throw away, practically breathing down he neck, and Simon just fucking has a panic attack. What if her step mother comes to their town? Are they still looking for her? What if someone identifies her? What if one of her men recognizes her? And what’s happened to her brother, who’d be about ten? Well, Mrs. Belz finds Simon clutching the newspaper, hyperventilating, and after that, the truth comes pouring out. Everyone is shocked. I haven’t actually thought much past this scene, where Simon tells her story to the very shocked Belzes, but Stuff will happen. The Belzes talk her out of just bolting for Canada, Simon will eventually encounter Marg again face to face after she rogues into the house for some reason. Marg has a delicate little pistol, but Simon still has that old blood stained revolver. Way after this, Michael will fistfight one of the goons, and the story will eventually be brought to light, but I have no idea how that will all play out or the consequences.

#Sword speaks #READ IT!

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dontshootmespence · 6 years

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Supernatural AU: Episode 1 - Born to Fire

Part 5

Finally, after nearly a week of camping out in the motel room, she, Dean and Sammy were free again. Dad was back. He’d been hunting down a werewolf and refused help from Bobbie even though she knew just as much about werewolves as her dad if not more. She was constantly reading about them. But no, instead she had to stay back and babysit her brothers. Whatever, what’s done is done.

When John stopped the car on the side of the road, she thought for a second that he might already have another case and they’d have to find another motel room to crash in. “Stay here for a second. I’ll be right back,” he said to the three lights of his life.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked.

“Just, trust me.”

Easier said than done. Something told Bobbie she wasn’t supposed to be so jaded at 10.

All three of them watched as John went into the trunk of the car and then walked out into the middle of the field. “Come on out,” he called. “All of you, come on!”

Bobbie popped out of the front seat and went around to Sammy’s side of the car to unbuckle his seatbelt for him. Dean was already sprinting toward their father, jumping up and down and asking what was happening. By the smile on John’s face, it seemed like it was something good, but none of them could ever be sure.

Pulling a lighter out of his pocket, John bent down and gathered his children around before lighting a rocket of some kind. It took two seconds to shoot off into the sky and explode, lighting up the night with red sparkles and a loud pop. “Fireworks!” Dean screamed.

Bobbie sat on the grass even though it was wet from a passing rainstorm and pulled Sammy into her lap as Dean ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. One by one, John set off every firework he had. Good thing the case had been in the middle of nowhere because the sound of cracking fireworks was sure to draw attention in a more densely populated town. “You want sparklers?” He asked, turning around to face his youngest and oldest.

“Yea,” Sam said happily but warily, hand outstretched. Once he saw the pretty blue color, he went running after Dean.

“Got a green one?” Bobbie asked.

“For my girl, absolutely,” John replied, handing over the specially picked sparkler. “Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Dad.” He made her so angry sometimes, but she loved him.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

-------

“It was coordinates,” Dean said from his rightful place in Baby’s driver’s seat. “He’s headed to Blackwater Ridge, Colorado. Or he was. If we haul ass, we could get there by morning.”

Sam said nothing, but his sister knew exactly what he was thinking and thankfully, she was the one to bring it up to Dean. “He has the interview in 10 hours.”

“Oh yea,” he replied disgruntledly. He wanted to lay the guilt on Sam but Bobbie would probably smack him in the back of the head again. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you back.”

Even though Dean had absolutely no desire to bring Sam back to the life he was deluding himself into thinking he could have, the three of them managed to have an okay ride back. Dean and Bobbie recounted their rousing game of would you rather for Sam, who couldn’t believe that his older sister had been caught in bed with a random boy by their father. “How old was I?”

“I was 18, so I guess that made you 13 at the time.”

Sam snorted as he pictured the anger on their father’s face. “Amazing. I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

“Me too,” she laughed.

-------

A few hours later, they arrived at Sam’s apartment. Though Dean never liked ‘chick-flick’ moments, he found himself in them more often than not. “We made a good team back there.”

“We always do,” Sam replied softly. He enveloped Bobbie in his arms and thanked her again for being behind him despite it all when the rest of the family wouldn’t.

With one final look back, Sam headed up the stairs and into the apartment, the sound of running water from the shower welcoming him home. He did miss his brother and sister, but that life was not for him, not anymore. No matter how good he was at it.

The woman he loved was in the shower and he had an interview for a full-ride scholarship to a top law school in a couple of hours. In the near silence, he moved over to his bed and plopped down, closing his eyes as he laid back into the softness of his well-worn mattress and tousled blankets.

When a drop of liquid hit his head, he ignored it at first. He didn’t want to deal with whatever leak there was in his ceiling. Granted he wouldn’t have to deal with it, the landlord would, but either way it just felt nice to be back in his place after the weekend he’d had.

Another drop landed and then another in quick succession. He gasped when he opened his eyes. “No! Jess!” He bellowed.

How?

How was she up there?

His father had only told the story of how he found their mother once, but it was permanently scarred into his brain and now here he was living it out again with the only woman he’d ever loved. As the slash across her stomach slowly oozed a crimson pool, she locked eyes on his.

How could you? Why didn’t you warn me?

“No!” He roared.

Bobbie kicked the door open and ran after her brother. She didn’t even need to look at the ceiling to know what had happened. History was repeating itself, because the Winchesters were never allowed a break. “Sammy! We have to go!”

He wrenched against her grasp, desperately wanting to save the last bit of normalcy he had, but she was gone. This must’ve been how their father had felt the night their mother died.

“Sam!” Dean yelled, joining Bobbie in her attempt to move Sam out of the apartment. “Sam, I’m sorry, but move!”

Finally, he turned around, tears filling his eyes as he ran down the stairs and out of the complex toward the street. “What just happened?” Dean asked.

The entirety of the complex came flooding out while Sam’s floor bloomed underneath the fiery inferno that was their lives. “Why?”

Whatever had killed their mother killed Jessica too. What conspiracy was this? Why were the being followed by hell at every turn? Why couldn’t they just catch a break? “Sammy, I’m so sorry,” Bobbie whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why did you come back?”

Bobbie inhaled sharply as she tried to hold back a sob and failed. “I didn’t tell you how proud I was of you and I wanted to tell you in person, not over the phone, so I made Dean drive back.” Everything he’d ever worked for flamed up in an instant.

Sam turned around and stormed off unable to gain control of his emotions. As the authorities pulled up, he lost it, screaming into his hands like a man – well, like a man who’d just lost everything. He was going to have to lie to the police about how he saw the woman he loved engulfed by flames. “This can’t be destiny, Bobbie,” Dean said, eyes glued to the building before him. “What did we do to deserve this?”

“How can you think this isn’t destiny? They were killed by the same thing. There has to be a reason why.” Right? After all they’d been through, she didn’t have much faith anymore, but life seemed to be hinting at something larger than just them. If these so-called gods were real and she ever met them, she’d probably earn herself a ticket straight down to hell.

-------

Within the hour, the fire department had doused the flames leaving plumes of smoke to be sent into the chill of the early morning. The elder two siblings left Sam to mourn as they were too fixed in place by the night’s events to do anything anyway. They kept turning over everything that had happened trying to figure out why, but no answers came. It didn’t make any sense.

Eyes puffy from crying, Bobbie walked over to Sam’s side, breaking down once again when he flinched at her touch. “I’m sorry,” she said. She was supposed to keep them safe. Keep them from harm. How had this happened?

Sam stared into the trunk, firmly focused on what needed to be done. He was probably playing right into this entity’s hands by going with his brother and sister. He should probably just pick up and continue on with life as normal, but he couldn’t; he wanted revenge. He wanted to look whatever this was in the eyes when he stabbed it. He wanted this thing to know that he had screwed with the wrong man. With Dean on his opposite side, he slammed the trunk closed.

Bobbie, Dean and Sam had been tested time and time again, but what no one else knew and what no one else wanted to confront was the reality that as a Winchester, you got knocked down all the time, but you always, always got back up to fight another day. A Winchester’s wings would always rise from the ashes, the unforgiving nightmare they toiled in, more fiery and determined than ever before.

“Let’s go,” Sam said. “We’ve got work to do.”

-------

A/N: I hope you’ve liked the first episode! Please leave feedback! It’s my fuel! And there’s so much more in store. If you want to be added to the taglist, go here and like the post.

@remember-me-forever-silent-angel @gaylemonshark @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @lalirang @averagekansan @addsomesalt @stusbunker @sebba-hiddles @fanfictionrecommendations-com @hoppy519 @thatwrestlingfan91 @extremeobsessions101 @spence-imagines @bettercallsabs @whaaatthefuuuuck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @your-imagination-runs-wild @cryinglots @steggy01 @gigilame @sedulous-mind @a-unique-girls-heaven @just-antiyou @rmmalta @original-criminal-fanfics @ties-n-suits @veroinnumera @eurusholmmes @fanficienjoyedreading @astridstark13

#supernatural #supernatural au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean win #sam winchester #bobbie deanna winchester #dontshootmespence #born to fire #s1ep1

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annaalexiswrites · 6 years

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Chasing Your Chances Prologue

On Bluebell Row in Ashwick Wharf, there are fifteen houses. On the outside, all the houses are exactly the same.

Two stories with a basement and a garage, made out of brick, with four windows on each floor, a brown driveway and a black mailbox.

Every single one of them.

But inside, with all the different people, no two houses are alike.

Number one belongs to Marianne Russel and Marianne Russel alone, at least for now.

She has one spare bedroom and one room that's supposed to be a spare bedroom but ended up becoming a shoe room, filled bottom to top with shoes and boots of all kinds and colors, straps and strapless, buttons and laces, anything and everything anyone could possibly imagine. And yet she manages to buy at least one new pair a month. Although her shoe room is her happy place, her kitchen is her home. She owns Bluehill Diner, her pride and joy, birthplace to the best baked goods in town, only serving the very best of her creations that have been through several dozen test runs and taste tests, both by her alone and with Addie Thomas, her best friend and designated guinea pig.

Number two is owned by Addie Thomas and Addie Thomas alone, but it's inhabited by not only Addie, but Winn Brooks and Clara Brown-Murphy. They each have their own room, Addie with her dance shoes hanging off her Tae Kwon Do belt holder that's surrounded by flowers and the centerpiece of a pristine room, Winn has a very neat, clean room, except for one corner that's covered in paper and pencils and paint and brushes and charcoal and any art tools he, or his parents, could get his, or their, hands on and Clara has a messily clean room, everything with a place and in its place, including her extensive collection of books sprawled across her floor and furniture, it just so happens that no one besides her can find anything.

Number three is owned by Lucy Carter's grandmother, but Lucy and her cousin, Adria, are staying in it during their gap year, with all the plans in the world to move out and either travel or go to college next year, but life has a funny way of changing plans. Like the rest of the Row Houses, there's three bedrooms on the second floor and one in the basement, but Adria and Lucy ended up sharing the master bedroom, anyways. It had the necessities, but the main decorations, the main spirit of the home, was in the kitchen. They weren't good at cooking, far from it actually. If Marianne and her culinary school, bakery-owning eyes ever saw one of their concoctions, she might just cry. Some of their concoctions made them cry. But some didn't. And those some were enough to keep trying, keep experimenting, keep staying up past midnight dancing in their underwear as they cook and bake and try to not burn the house down.

Number four is inhabited by Hetty, the police chief, her husband, Adam, the local doctor. Adam has a daughter and a son, Helaine and Elijah, from his first wife and Hetty has a daughter, Natalie, from her first husband. They lived in Ashwich their whole lives, but only moved to Bluebell Row when Hetty and Adam got married four years earlier. Elijah, the oldest at 22, has transformed the basement apartment to an attempt at a bachelor pad, but it ultimately failed and now he uses it to hide from Helaine and Natalie when they fight with each other or when they're actually getting along and decide to gang up on him. Hetty has her wooden sculptures decorating all the mantles, Adam has his decorative pillows covering every possible sitting surface, Elijah has his video games strewn across every floor, Helaine has her skateboard at the precisely worst spot at almost all times and Natalie has her collection of hair pins and scrunchies throughout the house, in every cushion and cabinet.

Number five is home to Elody Thomas, her boyfriend Jonas O'Sullivan, their five month and two week old baby Francesca and their beloved Spot the dog. Elody runs the local tea parlor so tea cups and pots and bags are in all the cabinets for practical reasons and around the living and family room as decoration. Jonas has one spot for his favorite DVD's, but besides that left everything else for Elody to decide and Francesca and Spot to destroy. By the time Francesca was three months old, and Spot almost three years, they had given up trying to tell the difference between dog and baby toys and just settled on not letting any of them go in the baby's mouth.

Number six is constantly occupied by Georgie Hermann and Fluffy the Bunny and occasionally occupied by Georgie's boyfriend, Conrad, who's often on the road due to his job at Purple Prime Trucking. Growing up in foster care with no constant home, Georgie finally found a home with Conrad, but quickly learned that you should never find a home in someone who can't have one. After many fights and accusations of Georgie cheating with her boss at Ashwick Wharf Law, Conrad surprised Georgie with not only a down payment on one of the Row Houses, but a promise to be there at least once a week and a bunny that will be there 24/7 for her. He was not, however, anticipating just how much of a mess a bunny can make when he made that particular purchase. Georgie's smile and knowing that she feels happy and content is enough for Conrad to part with his favorite pair of shoes and losing all hope of ever having any paper last more than five seconds in the house.

Number seven, much like number seven, has full-time and part-time residents. The full-time residents are Sadie Adams and her niece, Julia Adams. The part-time residents are Sadie's boyfriend, Axel, and his son, Lucas. Axel was another truck driver and Lucas lived with his mother most of the time, but recently decided to move in with his father for the school year. No one knows why, not even Lucas, but he wanted a change and this seemed like a good way to do it, even if he has to live with his father who he hates, his father's girlfriend who he hates by association, and his father's girlfriend's niece who got to be raised by his father when he didn't, which is also enough reason to hate her, at least in Lucas' opinion. Her incessant need to decorate the house with small and useless pillows didn't endear her to him in the least.

Number eight was previously unoccupied for several years, but just last week the Delgado family moved in. Mateo and Isabella are the parents who love their children more than anything. The oldest child is Maria, the oldest and only boy is Cristiano, the middle child is Astrid, the second youngest is Sofia and the very youngest is Valentina. The Delgado parents do their best to not favor any of their children and treat them all equally, but with Valentina being deaf, Maria being 27 and having no motivation or drive and Cristiano being the only boy, it's very hard to not leave Astrid and Sofia behind with less attention.

Number nine has the rest of the Thomas siblings, both Elody and Addie having moved out two and four years previously. Lucien is the oldest in the house but younger than Elody and Addie, and works as a computer programmer, making enough money to let Philippa, the next youngest, focus on college and not have to work. James, the next youngest, and the latest one to graduate college, was currently trying to find a way to tell his siblings he'll also be the latest to move out of the house and in with his boyfriend, Albert, made more difficult by Lucien being convinced that their lack of a sex life and plans to continue that absence negated their relationship being valid. Camille, the youngest and only one still in high school, was much more accepting of him and Albert, although she was far too busy being a senior and trying to find out what career she'd pursue after high school to get in the middle of his and Lucien's fights anymore. Still, they managed to add a little of themselves to their home, mainly with an abundance of posters and and wall hangings covering every wall in an effort to be the sibling with the most wall space.

Number ten, the Roberts, was the most conventionally decorated of the row houses. Jodie, the mother, is an interior decorator and refuses to have her house be anything less than the best. Jodie's husband, Nate, was a plumber who was perfectly fine with his wife taking over decorating as long as he got to keep his TV and watch games at least once a week. The children were all allowed to decorate their own rooms to their liking, which Albert, the oldest and James' boyfriend, used to his full advantage, picking decorations and furniture specifically chosen to piss off his mother, who did not take kindly to the fact that Albert not only came as asexual but also told the neighbors, seeing it as a personal insult to her and how hard she worked to build the perfect family. Molly, the middle child and ever her mother's little darling, struggled with both supporting her brother and not going against her mother. Jack, the youngest at only ten, was too young to fully understand why Albert would watch games with his dad and talk to him to no end but wouldn't say a word to his mother and was perfectly happy idolizing his brother without thinking about his mother at all.

Now number eleven was something different entirely. The rest of the row was, if not friends, friendly. But not number eleven. Number eleven was occupied by Gabrielle Smith, Edgar Martinez, Melitta Roy, Makenna Jenkins, Darlene and Noraly. No one ever asked Noraly or Darlene's last names, they were just the children of the Knockmore – the only house on the row with a name and so named because of the sign that was put up on the house long before the current residents moved in and will still be there long after they're gone. They went to a private school the next town over, rarely going into town themselves. The adults often went into town, always two or three of them at a time, never alone and never all four, and never saying more than they absolutely needed to. No one knew where they worked or what they did in the house, but it somehow seemed different than the rest of the houses, larger and more intimidating, even though it was as perfectly similar as the rest of them.

Number twelve was a much more welcoming place than number eleven, home to Emilie and Kenneth Wilson, married for 25 years and will be married for 25 more, as they're sure to tell you if you ask about how they met, at least until next year when they'll be married for 26 years and will be married for 26 more. No one knows why they always say that, except for their daughter, Andrea, a senior in high school and the only one with the knowledge that they started a bet when they were first married to always say how long they were married and say that they'll married for as many more whenever asked and whoever stops first has to dye their hair pink and, far worse, has to admit they lost. Their house is cluttered with knickknacks from different eras, Emilie being unable to resist a few trinkets every time she goes to an estate sale to get inventory for her antique store. Kenneth, a historian, and Andrea, who always feels out of place if everything is too new, both appreciate it every time something new shows up, seeing who can figure out what time period it is before the other.

Number thirteen, the most eclectically decorated of the row houses, a mixture of traditional and modern Korean décor as well as the occasional comic book trinket that Peter sneaked past his mother, belongs to the Park Family, who own and work at the local book store, Downtown Books. Jin-Hee, the father, bought it when he was just 19 years old, putting all of his savings into it. It was there he met Min-Jun, then his bookkeeper, now his bookkeeper, wife and mother of his three children. The youngest is Peter, a junior in high school and forever plagued that his name is Peter Park and not Peter Parker. The middle child and only girl is Esther, already graduated from getting an Associate's in Art and working at Downtown Books. The oldest, Daniel, both followed his father's footsteps and severely deviated from them. He met his one day wife, Jordan, at Downtown Books, instantly knowing that he would marry her as soon as he saw her, just like his father. However, his father, who had never touched a drop of alcohol, was far different than Daniel, who just got out of rehab less than a year ago. Jordan, not wanting to distract him from staying sober, refused to date him. She said when he was sober a year she would date him and he was planning on holding her to that, but just being her friend and coworker was enough for now. He could do without Peter and Esther's, and sometimes his father's, constant teasing and singing of Daniel and Jordan k-i-s-s-i-n-g, though.

Number fourteen is, like the Park home, very eclectic. Rosemary Miller and her daughter, Sarah, live there. It was a mixture of things they need, like Rosemary's wheelchair, and things they want, like the giant knitted blanket on the back of the couch that the two of them knitted together. It's nice and cozy and they're both so happy it made up for all the sneers and whispers Rosemary had to go through when she was pregnant with Sarah at just 18 and with no boyfriend or plans to get one. It made up for Rosemary finding out she has MS when Sarah was two years old and it made up for Sarah constantly being afraid of losing her mother. It made up for Sarah wanting to build her life around her mom's and it made up for Rosemary trying to convince her otherwise. It made up for the looks they got when Rosemary had to use her wheelchair and it made up for when Sarah was teased in school about it. It made up for Sarah getting into fights over the teasing and it made up for Rosemary coming down to the school to get into fights with teachers and principles. It made up for the hard life that they didn't deserve and it made them think it wasn't so bad afterall.

Number fifteen is inhabited by Jayne and Peter Brown-Murphy, mother and step father to Clara Brown-Murphy, as well as Jayne and Peter's twin daughters, Delilah and Natalia, currently 13 and in their final year of middle school and about as different in personality as they are similar in appearance, and twin sons, Elijah and Aiden, both currently 5 and about as similar in personality as they are different in appearance. Despite Clara moving out four months ago, her clothes and books still clutter the house, something new being left or picked up or both almost every time she comes over, which is still at least once a day. Peter's job as a lawyer has affected his style only in the sense that he's as bad with keeping his books in one place as his step daughter, which is fine with Jayne who could never decide on just one style so decorated with all of them, Peter and the children more than happy to deal with a little clashing as long as Jayne kept smiling and cooking their meals, both of which made all of their hearts melt.

That is, currently, all of the residents of Bluebell Row. Not all of their secrets or stories or past, all of which would take much longer to go through, although no doubt would be worth the time to read it all.

What do you think? Any constructive criticism or comments are very much appreciated!

Tag list: @drowsy-quill, @cjjameswriting, @katabasiss, @essenceofsunset .

#Writeblr #Chasing Your Chances #Chasing Your Chances Excerpt #CYC #Writing

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hekate1308 · 6 years

Text

For The Better

My Purple Tie verse has received a bit of attention lately, so I thought I’d give you guys an update. Enjoy!!!!

As blissful as Dean has found his mated life to be, sometimes things aren’t as easy as they may seem to their neighbourhood.

“No, I don’t see why your father has to visit us again.”

“Dean, he hasn’t been here in a year, and another one of his grandchildren was just born” Cas points out, which is quite hypocritical in his opinion, since his mate isn’t fond of his own father to begin with. Trust Cas to put duty over his own comfort, again; for whenever Lord Novak visits, a slight chill seems to settle over their home – even the children are quieter for the first couple of days, and usually exuberant once he leaves them again.

He also cannot deny that he is feeling rather sprightly – he’s just recovered from his lying-in, Samantha and Robbie are very excited about the new sibling they are already clamouring to play with, never mind that he can’t even sit up yet, and he just had an attraction with the butcher about the deer they purchased a few days ago. “For God’s sake, if I had known I would mate your whole family as well – “

“I moved away from them, in case you didn’t notice” Cas points out.

Dean did; and furthermore, sometimes he can’t help but worry that he’ll eventually grow to resent him for it. Cas may be an alpha who has defied many an expectation; but he is still an alpha, and as such might come to think he gave up to much when he settled down in Dean’s country. After all, Dean was never supposed to feel so attached to the place Sam and Jess lived in, not as a spinster omega.

“I know” he says, “And I also don’t recall you complaining. I do seem to remember that you were the one who purchased the house first, and you didn’t ask me –“

“Oh, so you don’t enjoy living here?”

It is the first serious disagreement between them; Dean can feel words that he knows would hurt Cas lie heavy on his tongue, ready to be spewed into the face of the man he adores more than anyone else in this world, and so he decides to leave. For a while.

“I knew it was a good idea to take a ride today.”

Dean slows his horse down when he recognizes Lord Crowley’s voice. The older alpha is usually good company; and he needs something to take his mind off things.

“What an utterly shocking sight we will be to the neighbourhood, Mr. Novak.”

“Oh, you know me; I don’t stand on ceremony” he grins. It didn’t take him long after his mating to reclaim the rights he enjoyed as the presumed alpha heir of his father – the first and foremost being his ability to go on long rides by himself.

They ride in silence for a while, until Lord Crowley, who is sometimes too clever for his own good, asks, “And may I ask what prompted this excursion? While I do always enjoy our time together, it seems a little unusual for you to be out without your mate so soon after your latest lying in.”

“Sometimes alphas don’t know when to stop” Dean answers, “And now and then, they will have their father come to visit against better knowledge.”

“Ah” Crowley says, as if that makes everything clear, “But I have to confess, it would make me rather uneasy to see domestic comfort like yours shattered by a simple disagreement.”

Dean agrees, but for now, he is still too angry to go back.

Crowley takes the hint and falls silent.

When he returns home, Cas is nowhere to be found, at least not at first. Dean checks on the children and quietly makes his way to the library. Normally he would spend time in the nursery, loving them, teaching them, playing with the, but they don’t deserve to have to deal with his bad mood. Granted, the ride helped, but he is still rather put out by his and his mate’s fight.

They are not supposed to fight. None of the stories he ever heard about blissful matings ever included fights, but then, reality is something else entirely.

He should have known Cas would be here too.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean” he greets him, carefully marking down the page of the book he’s reading and putting it away, “Did you have a pleasant ride?”

“Yes.” After a pause he adds, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the only one” Cas gets up, looking tired and sad. “I don’t want my father here either, Dean. God knows we have done little to provide each other’s comfort since my birth – he only comes out of a sense of obligation that I can no longer understand.”

Dean walks up to him and takes his hands. “I guess we’ve both been rather... impetuous”.

“That’s one way to put it” Cas agrees and kisses him.

Yes, mating life isn’t always what he imagined it to be.

And yet he wouldn’t change a thing if he could.

“I really hope Jimmy Lucas gets better soon, but at least he has the best nurse he could possibly have.”

Cas nods, keeping an eye on their children and smiling to himself. Naturally Dean insisted on calling on the family as soon as he heard of their youngest’ illness. He still hopes this doesn’t mean he’ll entirely miss Mrs. Leeds visits however – they still are as attached to each other as they were before their mating.

“Samantha is a wonderful sister” she admires their oldest; she’s busy keeping an eye on Ben, the baby, and playing with Robbie, their middle child.

“I am sure she gets that all from Dean.”

“Now, now, Mr. Novak, I am certain you are not as deficient in that regard as you believe yourself to be.”

“I can assure you, I have yet found a regard in which he is” Dean’s voice calls out from behind and before Cas can turn around, Samantha and Robbie race towards him calling out “Daddy!”

“Hello there” he says, scooping them up in a decisive gesture that is utterly unlike the way omegas are supposed to behave around their children.

Cas loves him more than he ever thought he would be able to love anyone.

“You’ve already got three children, and only two arms – I strongly expect that problem will only grow worse in the following years” Mrs. Leeds says, grinning.

Dean shakes his head. “I know my blessings – i don’t wait for more.”

“I am not talking about waiting, my dear – some things are just meant to be.”

As Cas steps up to Dean, he finds himself whole-heartedly agreeing with Dean’s old friend.

Their disagreement from the week before is not yet forgotten, nor is it likely to be; not with both of their temperaments being rather hot and quick; but Dean is smiling at him, his eyes sparkling, and it is enough for Cas.

“It seems you have your hands full” he observes.

“This wouldn’t be the case, but my mate happens to be rather impatient when it comes to certain things...” Dean smirks, bouncing the children up and down, prompting them to protest while laughing.

Cas reaches out and takes Samantha into his arms. As always, the sight of Dean’s eyes in their daughter’s face makes him smile. “Did you tell Daddy how well you fulfilled your responsibilities while he was gone?”

“No! And I don’t have to anyway!” she exclaims (at least as far as Cas understands – the language of toddlers, while perfectly enchanting, keeps being a mystery to him in some regards).

Dean laughs. “That’s my girl. Don’t let anyone tell you what to do.”

“That’s hardly a good thing for her to learn” Cas protest half-heartedly, as always to no avail.

“I should probably be going” Mrs. Leeds announces, “I certainly can’t waste anymore of your time. There are so many other people whose time I should be wasting instead –“

“No, please, wait” Dean hurries to say, putting Robbie down and shooting Cas a glance. “i could really do with a cup of tea, and your presence will only make it sweeter.”

“Always the charmer” she praises him; but her quick mind has naturally already surmised that there i something Dean wants to talk about, and Cas can easily guess what it is.

“My father-in-law is about to visit us again” he confides into Mrs Leeds as he hands her another cup of tea before filling his own, “But I think we should also invite Lady Naomi once more.”

He’s asking Cas’ opinion as well, of course; he’s asking whether it would be at all proper to ask his aunt to stay with them even though she has barely been gone two months.

The answer to that is a resounding no – but then, why should Cas care? If he worried at all about the opinions of the fashionable society, he would not be a happily mated alpha with a growing family.

“I think this is a splendid idea. Father will be positively thrilled to see his sister again.”

“And you know I am always glad to see Lady Naomi, as well” Mrs. Leeds replied, with only a hint of sarcasm in her voice – she knows very well what they are thinking.

It is decided.

“Castiel, the children.”

They are indeed well and currently occupied while playing with their father in the garden. He would gladly join them; however, he has to deal with some business of his tenants first.

“Yes?”

“They are rather loud” he announces.

“Oh yes. They usually are when they are playing with Dean.”

“I see.”

With a flourish of his pen, Cas finishes his business. “Shall we join them?”

They are crossing the hall when Ellen approaches them. “Excuse me, sir? Your other guest arrived while you were busy. I felt free to show her in the garden.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“What other guest? You didn’t tell me.”

“You didn’t ask.”

His father’s face grows even more serious when he finds aunt Naomi in the garden running after Samantha.

“Really, she is so very fast – either that or I am growing old – oh, hello, Brother.”

“Naomi” he says frostily, slightly bowing when Dean advances with their other two children.

“Lord Novak” he greets him. “Since we must all be in agreement that a family party would be rather undesirable” he glances at Cas, smirking, “We have invited a few guests for dinner. My brother and his family, Mrs. Leeds... Lord Crowley, naturally.”

“Naturally” his father echoes.

Even Samantha giggles in Aunt Naomi’s arms.

Dean gifts Cas with a beautiful smile.

It’s a beautiful day.

#my writings #destiel #destiel au #omega!dean #alpha!cas #regency!au

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baby-prince-oppa · 7 years

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[NOTE: Like a dumbass I was, I accidentally deleted the original post of the Descendants Family Tree while I was updating it, so I’m posting this again. Please show as much love with this one as you did with the first by reblogging! Thanks!]

♔ ♕ - Disney’s Descendants - Family Tree ♕ ♔

Note: I may update the chart once there are new characters that will be introduced in any upcoming books, movies, spin-offs, etc.

I made this chart so I can group the characters in their respective movies and whom they descended from. Most of the information I got was from Disney wiki. There are possible cases where some characters only adopt their children and raise them as single parents (hence the ??? at the opposite side of their name). If you know any other information that I have overlooked, please let me know.

There are some things I want to point out (and thoughts I had while making these charts) so here’s an explanation under the cut.

Beauty and the Beast

The fact that there are Descendants characters who are named exactly/closely similar like their parents really irritates me to no end. Like how lazy can Disney be anyway? But let’s be real though; Gaston would definitely name his sons after him because he’s that much of a narcissist. However in Descendants 2 and Rise of the Isle of the Lost, Gaston has a third son named Gil. This raises two questions: Does Gaston have any more kids other than these three? Do they share the same mother or not?

The Beast doesn’t have an official name according to his character wiki (although I was really tempted to type “Adam” since that name stuck with me out of nowhere throughout my entire childhood).

Sleeping Beauty

I’m really curious as to who is Mal’s father (like seriously. As said from someone else in some other post, “WHO WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO BANG MALEFICENT?!” which to be honest, sounds like a game show title. LOL). According to the novel, The Isle of the Lost, we definitely know for sure that he is human. When is he gonna make an appearance? Along with the other missing parents of the Rotten Four?

Snow White and the 7 Dwarves

We can see here that Evie and Snow White are stepsisters and Prince Florian is her brother-in-law.

I’m wondering if Snow White and Florian have any children yet at this time. If so, this would’ve make Evie an aunt. :D

Doug has 3 other cousins, Bashful Jr., Sleepy Jr. (both in School of Secrets), and Gordon (Return to the Isle of the Lost, chapter 43).

Aladdin

Two things are mentioned in The Isle of the Lost: Aladdin and Jasmine had a son named Aziz and Jay mentioned he has a cousin named Jade. Since Jafar has a twin sister named Nasira (who appeared in the video game Aladdin: Nasira’s Revenge) it would make perfect sense for him to have a niece.

Another thing mentioned in Rise of the Isle of the Lost, is that Aziz is the eldest son, implying that Aladdin and Jasmine may have more than one child.

In Disney Princess Enchanted Tales: Follow Your Dreams, Jasmine has a cousin named Sharma who was a schoolteacher, but it wasn’t clear as to whether she’s her maternal or paternal cousin.

Genie is in a loving relationship with a female djinn named Eden on the show Aladdin: The Animated Series. With that much devotion to each other, I’d be pretty surprised if they don’t end up having a child together in the Descendants verse (unless Disney happens to overlook that fact as well. Just like everything else. -__-).

There’s also another unknown fact (not sure how many people know about this) that Aladdin has a canon father, Cassim, who appears in the movie Aladdin and the King of Thieves.

In the live-action Aladdin (2019) movie, Genie had 2 children with Jasmine’s former handmaiden, Dalia; a daughter named Lindy and a son named Barro. It seems that Genie’s other daughter, Jordan, doesn’t exist in this particular universe.

101 Dalmatians

“Who was brave enough to bang that crazy bitch, Cruella de Vil?” would’ve been added to the list of questions that will probably go unanswered. Although someone did pointed out that in the original novel of The Hundred and One Dalmatians, Cruella was married to a furrier but that detail was omitted in the Disney verse. (Discussion about that can be found here: 1 2 3 .)

There is official info on Cruella’s relatives, so her having a nephew named Diego seems plausible. I tried to fit them in with what space I had. Looking at it however, I’m pretty sure either Cecil B. de Vil is Diego’s father or Cruella has some other unknown sibling who is the parent of Diego.

The Dalmatian puppies listed on the chart are the ones that Perdita and Pongo have naturally. The other 86 puppies are adopted (like hell I have the energy to name every single one of them LOL).

It has been confirmed that Carlos’s middle name is “Oscar”. Carlos Oscar de Vil.

Cinderella

Anastasia have just entered in a relationship with the local baker in the sequel Cinderella 2: Dreams Come True (he even made a small cameo at the end credits in Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time). I had a discussion with a few other friends that the baker might have went with Anastasia to the Isle willingly and if that’s not the case, then Anastasia might have had children with someone else (which made me sad to think about, since she and the baker seemed to genuinely love each other). I’m willing to bet that Anthony Tremaine (who appeared in The Isle of the Lost) is Anastasia’s son, if we are to follow the “first name alliteration rule” that applies to almost every Descendants character. He also seems to be Lady Tremaine’s only grandson.

In Descendants 2, Drizella has a daughter named Dizzy (another stupid name). Might appear to be her only child if we were to disregard the Isle of the Lost novel.

The novel doesn’t specify how many granddaughters Lady Tremaine has.

As we can see here, Chad Charming is cousins with Anthony and Dizzy.

There are questions whether Jane is either a full blooded fairy or a half blood. This post addresses that.

Mulan

The only thing I have to say about this is; I wonder if Shan Yu has a kid in this universe too? (Even though I don’t really agree that every single Disney character should bear a child.)

The Princess and The Frog

Tiana’s and Naveen’s child(ren) has got to exist somewhere.

I have this headcanon that Freddie was actually reborn from another life by the help of Dr. Facilier (or somewhere along the lines of being resurrected from the dead), but due to some complications from knowing the facts (i.e. magic can’t be used on the Isle and voodoo probably doesn’t work that way) that headcanon is pretty short lived.

Dr. Facilier happens to have another daughter named Celia who appears on Descendants 3.

Tangled

So I’m really confused as to who Rapunzel’s and Eugene’s daughter is. From the web series, “School of Secrets”, there’s a girl named Anxelin who was said to be Rapunzel’s daughter, yet in “Wicked World”, a girl named Ruby was also confirmed to be Rapunzel’s daughter. It’s still unknown whether or not they are sisters or if it’s the same character renamed.

Ginny Gothel is a character who appeared in The Isle of the Lost.

The Little Mermaid

Ariel is the first Disney princess to have a child in canon (The Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea), so shouldn’t that count for something? But knowing Disney, they would probably throw in a redhead girl whose first name starts with “A” just to fit in with the criteria. -___- Either that or Melody would only be mentioned as the “older sister” of this girl.

In “School of Secrets”, Ariel has a niece, but it’s not clear as to which of her sisters is the mother of this girl.

In Descendants 2 and Rise Of The Isle Of The Lost, Ursula’s daughter, Uma, was introduced.

Ursula has a sister named Morgana (The Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea). Morgana is often very jealous of Ursula because their mother always considered her to be her favorite daughter.

Thanks to @auradone who pointed it out, there’s a musical that portrays Ursula and Triton as siblings. This means that Ursula (and Morgana) is Ariel’s aunt and Melody’s great aunt. Although to me it’s kind of confusing since they’re both a completely different species. (Honestly I’m not exactly on board with this story line since Ursula and Morgana’s mom was shown above. Definitely doesn’t seem like she’d be related to Triton.)

Peter Pan

Before, I thought Harriet and CJ were the same person but the confusion was cleared in Rise of the Isle of the Lost that Harriet, Harry, and CJ are apparently siblings (oldest to youngest in that order). Still unsure as to whether or not they all came from the same mother.

I strongly disagree that Peter Pan would have any kids himself. He’s a child and will always be a child, so I highly doubt that he would take on the responsibility of being a parent. EVER. If Disney ever try to shove that bullshit under our nose, I will completely lose ALL faith that they’re going to put any effort into accuracy.

Mr. Smee had a son named Sammy in the 1st novel Isle of the Lost, but has 2 other sons in Descendants 3, Squeaky and Squirmy.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Thanks to @72crowe89 for reminding me that Phoebus and Esmeralda had a son together.

Quasimodo and Madellaine had a happy ending in The Hunchback of Notre Dame ll, so I’m pretty sure they have to get married at some point.

I guess since Frollo was so used to have Quasi as a personal slave (and so abusive towards him), he had to assign that same fate to his daughter (hence her job as the bell ringer at Dragon Hall, the school on the Isle). How sad…

Others

Again, who’s in charge of naming the kids of Disney characters when their “originality” is as dull as a brick?

Clayton has a sister named Lady Waltham who appeared in a spin-off TV show, The Legend of Tarzan.

Alice’s sister doesn’t have an official name (it wasn’t even mentioned in the credits), but in a few sources, her name is Mathilda. I just went along with it, because it would look weird if I only put in a nameless sibling.

Pin? JUST PIN?!! THAT HAS GOT TO BE THE LAZIEST NAME EVER. They couldn’t even give him a legit Italian name that starts with a “P”? Are you serious right now?! I pray to God above, that better be just a nickname. This was mentioned in the second novel Return to the Isle of the Lost.

Yzma apparently has her own little family; her mother, Azma, and her two nephews, Zim and Zam, who all appeared in the TV show spin-off The Emperor’s New School. Yzma’s daughter, Yzla, appeared in the books Isle of the Lost and Return To The Isle Of The Lost, while her son, Zevon, appeared in Wicked World.

#descendants #disney descendants

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denu-rising · 7 years

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1!! 2, 8, 9, 13, 14, 16, 20, 22, 30, 31, 36, 39, 41, 42, 43, 47, 49 (im so sorry whenever i send these i always send a billion numbers)

Oh my gosh,so many questions! Don’t apologise, this is awesome! Thank you so much!! =D

1:Who is your clan leader(s)? What are they like?

Myclan leader is Nana. ^^ She’s an absolute sweetheart, soft spoken andshy, who just wants to see the whole world smile. She doesn’t run theClan by herself, but with her trusted council and closest friends,Hobo and Cookie. Hobo’s more of an honorary clan leader, sincepersonality and behaviour-wise he very much resembles an excitedpupper. He has a pure heart and would follow Nana through anything.Cookie’s a lot more help thanks to her empathic ability, which allowsher to pick up on any troubles that may arise in the Clan.

2:Who’s in charge of food? Do you have dragons in charge of thedifferent factions (hunting/fishing/insect catching/harvesting)?

Idefinitely plan to have dragons assigned to these roles, yes! So far,Scarlet is the only one who does any of these, and she always comeshome with her bags full of food and her clothes full of mud (much tothe annoyance of her stylist boyfriend). Guava and Lychee sometimesbring back food from their many adventures. Sunflower is my gardener,and the main dragon in charge of the gardens and crops. She’sassisted by her husband, Watermelon, who functions as a walkingencyclopedia for all things Plant, as well as a pack mule. =P

8:Does your clan have any occultists?

Wehave magic users galore, but when it comes to finding new forms andmethods of magic, right now there’s only Fantasia (plus whoever endsup being her permamate). She’s my dream sorceress, practicing the‘dream magic’ that she discovered and continues to experiment with.You can read a bit about it in her bio, but I should really write somemore about it! To put it vaguely, dream magic is about bringing outsubconscious or hidden knowledge and making it visible.

9:Storytellers or librarians?

Doscribes counts? Because I do have those! Planned, at least. At themoment, Galaxia is my only scribe. She records Dom efforts andcollects badges. I haven’t really kept this up to date, though, andhave been considering dropping this, but she’ll still be a badgecollector with awesome stories to tell about her badges. Just not allbadges. The two other scribes I want will record (previous) clanmembers and notable events that happened, like clan renovations orMarva visiting each year. And I need a fiction writer too. Thescribes also function as librarians and storytellers. ^^

13:What about musicians?

Alsoonly one so far! I have this nameless lady who’s quite the excellenttrumpet player. Can’t believe I forgot to add musicians to my list ofneeded clan roles, so thank you for the reminder, hehe. =P

14:Dragons involved in other arts? (Theatre, fine art, ect.)

Fiesta!This bright baby is my dancer. He looooves dancing! He teaches aweekly dance class at the familiar spa, and loves performing for themany celebrations my clan throws. When there’s no party planned ordance routine to learn, Fiesta’s often out visiting other Clans tomeet other dancers and dance with them. And Cassius will get upset ifI don’t mention him here, but he’s my pretty stylist and he’s supervain.

16:Who’s in charge of maintaining law and order? Any dragons that takeup the mantle of policing?

Toa degree, everyone is. If they witness something illegal or immoral,they’ll be sure to inform Nana, Hobo and Cookie. Any actual issuesare handled by those three, though they’ll call a clan meeting if thesituation calls for it. Overall, though, this Utopian little bunchdoesn’t have much need for actual police dragons. (They do have asort of prison hidden away in the garden, just in case, though.)There are at all times a couple dragons ‘policing’ the borders of thefloating islands, but that’s just to make sure no one and nothingfalls off and visitors are properly welcomed.

20:Which dragon has the oddest job in your lair?

Ina sense, I’d say Hobo, but that’s because he’s such an oddballhimself that being on the council is a very odd position for him. Imean, he very rarely speaks in full (short) sentences, struggles toget out words at all, and the others can have a hard timeunderstanding him. Fantasia has the oddest job in the sense that herdream magic involves a lot of tinctures and potions made from specialmushrooms and hallucinations. She’s high as a kite most of the time,because that’s her job. She loves her job.

22:Who, in your lore, is the oldest dragon in your lair? What about theyoungest?

It’sa toss-up between Cookie and Luna. Cookie is the actual oldestdragon, both date-of-birth and lore-wise. I tend to mostly followactual dragon birthdays to determine who’s oldest. Luna, however, isa ghost, and who knows how long she’s been dead before Fantasia foundher. She might be older than Cookie, she might even be ancient. Lunadied at a young age, though, so I don’t know. Is she old? Is sheyoung? Youngest would have to be the last hatchie to pop out of anegg, but since I don’t keep those, I suppose this lady’s the youngestaddition to the Clan right now, and I still have no clue as to whather personality or clan role will be. ^^;

30:Do you have siblings that live together in your lair?

YES!I love siblings so much. I had more at one point, but right now, Istill have Guava and Lychee (the first sibling pair I got). They doEVERYTHING together. They even share their boyfriends, taking turnsnesting with them. It’s a bit weird, but whatever floats their boat.^^ Then there’s Skittle and Jellybean. I don’t have any lore for themyet, but I love them. Lamia and her unnamed brother. Might actuallynot keep the brother, but Lamia’s my Shadow ambassador. Sprinkle andSmiley, from my very first dream dragon breeding project. (I got twogirls, because more genes came out and now I’m stuck deciding, so whynot both? Still waiting for the second male, who’ll be the brother ofthe first, to complete the two pairs.)

31:Any physically disabled or mentally ill dragons?

… Doesbeing dead count? 'Cause Luna’s dead, and it’s definitely a physicalstruggle when you can only materialise with a special, hard to makeelixer from Fantasia. But then, there’s also plenty of advantages tobeing dead, like never stubbing your toe or having to sleep, so Iguess it evens out. Guava and Lychee most definitely have ADHD, andwho even knows what the heck is wrong with Hobo… Overall, mentalillness, if present, isn’t something that’ll be clearly stated, like'this dragon has autism’. I struggle enough with my own mentalillnesses that I don’t want to explicitly mention it, though I candraw characteristics and personality traits from them. Also, I’d beway too anxious about accidentally upsetting or offending people. ^^;I have no objections to people giving any labels to my dragons,though! =P

36:Flight reps?

Yes,please! I have Lamia, my Shadow ambassador, and Spring is my Windpriest. I have Rose put down as a potential Ice ambassador andSunflare for Earth, but that’s it, really. I want Flight reps foreach Flight, but it’s super hard to think of what they should looklike if they have to match my lair theme. What would a Flightrepresentative look like if they needed to be XYZ with all colours in adifferent range?

39:Do you still have the first dragon you’ve ever bought?

Idon’t have the first dragon I ever bought anymore, but I do stillhave the first dragon I ever got. I got Cookie as a gift from mybrother. The week leading up to the reg window, he’d been showing meall sorts of dragons and I really loved Cookie, so I got her as agift. In a way, I’ve had her longer than my progens, even. =P

41:Who has the most tragic backstory?

Luna!I mean, she literally died and spent who knows how long all alonewandering Sornieth, unable to find any sort of peace or happiness.That said, backstories are the only real place I can add tragedy, sothere might be more tragic backstories popping up in the future. Likethe story of how Hobo became Hobo, which I’m still eternally mullingover.

42:Who is your edgiest dragon?

Idon’t have one, I think, but I want one! It’ll either be Lamia or myfuture Plague ambassador, because enforcing stereotypes, yeah! =P Ilove Shadow and Plague, but I don’t have much room in my lore foractual Shadow/Plague themes, so whatever edgy little runt thoseFlights can produce, they can just punt on over this way. That’llprobably be the backstory, anyway. =P

43:Do you have any dragons that broke the clan’s rules? What was thepunishment for that?

Well,hatchies can be quite a handful and they don’t always listen yet,but… No, not really, nothing major. Well, Cassius, greedy and vainas he can be, will sometimes steal pretty fabrics or shiny jewels,but that’s just because he’s too impatient to wait to sign anythingfor taking them. He’s had a slap on the wrist a couple times, but nowthey just let him, because he needs that stuff anyway for hisoutfits. Cassius gets a visit once a week to take stock of the stuffhe’s taken.

47:Professor/teacher dragons?

Alsostill unassigned. Yeah, I know, I need to work on my lore more. =PFiesta teaches a weekly dance class, and anyone can learn from anyoneduring the many arts-and-crafts sessions. I still need an officialhatchling caretaker/teacher. Bunnyfly supervises hatchling trips tothe familiar spa and teaches the young ones about familiars and howto maintain positive relations with familiars and beastclans.

49:Orphan dragons?

Nana,my progen. She just sort of came into being, no family or anything.Also my precious little Bunnyfly. He was found as an egg and taken inby a clan of buttersnakes, before his buttersnake mentor/fatherfigure/best friend decided to take him to Denutena’s Candyclan,because the other buttersnakes were getting increasingly anxiousabout living with a dragon, even one that looks like a bigger versionof them, and the buttersnake (he still needs a name) thought it wouldbe better for Bunnyfly to be around his own kind. They now run thefamiliar spa together. ^^

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sometimescarolinewrites-blog · 6 years

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Someday I Wanna Marry My Oldest Brother, Here’s Reasons Why.

Being the only daughter in my family, I grew up with two older brothers. My brothers and I have a huge age gap. With my oldest, his name is Bobby (from the Robert Kennedy), there’s like 13 years of age gap, while for another, the youngest one, Tito, (from Joseph Broz Tito) there’s 9 years difference of age.

My dad loves politics and history so much, he even named all his children with the world’s best leaders. I guess my mom loves him even more, she only satisfied with 1 Javanese name she put in all of her children’s names, lol. Mine would be Elizabeth, well it just happened to be my baptism name, inspired from the Queen of Great Britain herself and his Queen of his heart, his Mama, my Granny.

Moving on, my dad had always wanted a daughter. Apparently, having a daughter was some sort of pride in Flores culture, where Flores tribes adopted and honored the matrilineal system. (Oh, how I adore this kind of thinking!) Again, inspired by his former boss in the military, where the general and his wife had an unexpected pregnancy in the age of 46, that made my dad thought they still had a chance to have another baby. At that time my dad was 39 and my mom was 35.

Long story short, I was born in 1989. So, imagine my two brothers who had spent their bromance time, suddenly had to make some room for this tiny little baby girl in the house. For me, the apple’s of daddy’s eyes. Lol.

Anyway, that was just an introduction of my family. Things that I wanted to share with you was a lot bigger than just my family background.

So, did you happen to read the article of Reese Witherspoon and her thoughts about the women and ambition. If not, I suggest you to read everything she has to say about the power of female ambition. Now I truly understand why she was awarded as Women Of The Year in 2015 by Glamour Magazine, because she and her thoughts are amazing! Quoting one of her statements in that pep talk-essay is:

“Run away from a man who can’t handle your ambition. So many men think ambition is sexy.”

Yes. You read that right. She strongly advised us (women) to runaway from a man who can’t handle our ambition in life. Those men who can’t accept our views and goals are not worth a damn second of our precious time, because women with vision and dreams belong to nobody but her vision and dreams itself.

So please, let me explain about my daring and a bit misleading title, about me wanted to marry my oldest brother.

My brother got married in 2009 with my sister in law. And then they have two kids and in 2011, a few months after my niece was born, my brother decided to resign from the creative and advertising agency he used to build his career on. When he resigned, he was the Creative Manager of that one agency (where he and his wife had met, because at that time, his wife was his client), and his decision might have shocked my parents. He quitted because he wanted to be a stayed at home dad but would have still accept some creative design work from home (a freelancer).

My Dad was completely shocked at that time. My dad was old enough and he was raised conventionally where the man should be out of the home making some career and cash, not the woman. The thought of being a stayed at home dad and being a freelancer was something he could not imagine. He was a bit upset but he knew he was helpless because he respected the idea that my brother built a family of his own. So my dad told everything about his concerns to…… of course, yours truly. 😅

But long before my brother made this decision, he told me his vision. Due to that, I had some ammo to carefully explain to my dad why my brother took that action.

Here’s the reasons:

1. My brother saw the hard struggle being a mother and a career woman. He learned the struggle from our mom, who happened to have a career yet she was still able to manage to do all the house works for her husband and three kids.

2. He saw that struggles in his wife. The stressful days at work sometimes got on my sister in law’s nerves and it caused her an unnecessary tension and stress. The overnight working hours, deadlines, and all that so he knew he had to take actions before everything could get worse.

3. He just simply used his logic. He knew that his wife’s career was way better than what he was having at that moment, if he asked his wife to resign from her work, this would create an imbalance cash flow for his family. And of course, he was eager to send his children to the best Catholic schools in Jakarta, for my nephew to be in Colese Canisius (his beloved almamater), and for my niece is Santa Ursula. (Where I wasn’t accepted there probably because I wasn’t smart enough -- tears).

4. If they both were still working, their children would not get the parent’s affections and attentions, as they would probably grow up with other’s affections. You see, in my brother’s opinion, to give a full attention at your children is already the hardest thing, imagine if you have to do it while doing deadlines and all that work stuffs?

5. But despite all that, he saw that his wife had the passion and ambition to go further on her career, so he took action by NOT throwing her any challenges at home and supported her all the way to achieve the best at her career.

6. He knew, his wife had a better education, so he thought that my sister in law had invested the money and time long before they even met each other. He didn’t want his wife to bury all of her dreams, when instead he encouraged her to pursue her dreams and career.

7. Those are the things that I really wish I could get in my future partner. To support and encourage each other for greater benefits, to step down when needed, to sacrifice all of his ego so that us women can have more values other than just the baby and home maker. My brother truly believed that every woman was born with something more than that. This shows of how he raise my niece, Gia, where he never stop encouraging my niece to pursue and achieve whatever it is she’s aiming, as long as it’s something positive.

8. My niece currently takes ballet, drawing and singing classes at her school. And for every noon she would play some soccer in our neighborhood along with other boys. He even tells me that Gia is so much alike me, so he hoped one day Gia could be a woman that I am now, but without attending the “digit” school. Hahaha. Well I wish Gia would be the woman more than what I am now too Mas Bobby! ❤️

9. My brother does not pity himself for making breakfast each morning for his children, taking them to school, attending parents meeting, taking Gia to her ballet classes, taking Kaka to his soccer games, you know all that Stayed At Home Dads duties, cause he is proud of what he is and he does not care about what other people think of himself, cause guess what, these people opinions do not pay my damn bills. (Well IDGAF Attitude somehow runs real well in our blood haha).

10. But don’t get him wrong, he still takes his freelance jobs doing some creatives for advertising/designs. I won’t mention any brands but they’re huge cause I’ve seen him staying up all alone late at nights creating all these ads. Dan setiap kali invoice cair gue suka kecipratan hore!

You see all the reasons why I wanna marry someone who carries the same vision like my brother someday? A man who strongly believes that women were born with many purposes in lives other than just to marry and have kids. That we are capable of doing something great or even do what men’s currently do as well. Best way to wrap my writing is, find yourself a man who is not afraid of your ambition but instead thinking that your ambition is logical, achievable and makes you sexier!

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goingrvway · 6 years

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Burdick Family Christmas Party - 2017

Sacramento, CA

Around 75 of us gathered together yesterday for the 2017 Burdick Family Christmas Party. This is the first one I have been able to attend since my dad’s brother, affectionately known as “Uncle Red” to my family, and more affectionately known as “Grampa Froggy” to his family, started this tradition after I moved away from Sacramento in the mid-80's. Leroy (Uncle Red) is no longer with us on this earth, so dad (Uncle Al to the other side of the family and is in the front row, far right) is the oldest Burdick. But Aunt Florence’s mother Fern, sitting in the middle with the Christmas Red coat on, was the oldest person there at age 95…and next to her on her right, picture left, is Arny’s mother Euleda, who is also 95. Aunt Flo is on the other side of her mother sitting next to my mom. All of my brothers and sisters are there, and five of the eight children of Uncle Red and Aunt Flo were able to attend. Cousin Cynthia got sick and just could not make it, cousin Barbara lives in Italy and, and Cousin Michelle was unable to make it, but I never did hear why. So there easily could have been another ten people there had they and their children all attend (Most of Cynthia’s kids were there), and also missing were two of my children, my brother Bob’s daughter and kids…so I think we could have made 100 had all been able to attend. Had this been on my mom's side of the family...well, I don't have a wide enough lens to capture all of them...however, my cousin Donald, who is the same age as me, came.

For the first time in nearly ten years all of my brothers and sisters and mom and dad were able to all be in the same place at the same time! Seems that there has always been one of us who was unable to make previous opportunities…but this time it happened. Mom and dad in the front row, Patti, Sandy and Bob right behind them, and Jim, Roger and me (Dave) in the back row (all left to right). The order of age for the kids is Jim, Bob, Roger, Dave, Patti and Sandy. Many times when dad needed one of us to do something, he would go down the list of kids verbally, in order, then when he got to the end, pick out the one name he was looking for and say that name, and then say something like, “Could you take out the garbage…” It would sound something like this, “Jim, Bob, Roger, David, Sandy (all said very quickly)…uh David, could you take out the garbage please...” Yes, I missed Patti because she did not get adopted into the family until mom and dad’s 50th wedding anniversary. Sandy was adopted when she was 6 years old, and they are biologically half sisters…but in reality they are sisters to us boys as if they were with us from birth.

To the left is my cousin Bill, the oldest boy of Uncle Red and Aunt Florence. He has a striking resemblance of Uncle Red…at times it is a bit eerie. Bill is just a few months older than I am, and for the most part he grew up in Sacramento, so we had many “adventures” together…such as the time he taught me to shoot arrows with his bow…and I put an arrow right into the side of the doughboy pool that the wood, which I was aiming for, piled up against. When I told Uncle Red, he just looked at me and says, “$400 pool, ‘splat’! “ as he takes his thumb and moves it over his shoulder as if he was an umpire calling a runner out at first base. Of course, that made it worse for me because I am thinking, “How will I ever pay them the $400 for this pool which I just ruined!”, not knowing that it can be patched up for a mere couple of dollars…. Then there is the story of when I shot him in the leg with a BB gun... And the time I went hunting with him and two of his friends and learned to not say, "There is a squirrel behind us..." as they all turn around with their shot guns and try and blow this little squirrel to kingdom come...with my head and ears right between two shotgun barrels as they go BOOM. Then there is the time...well...there were lots of times.

So with the ‘power of Photoshop’, I am able to take a head shot of Bill, place it in the empty chair (that I had vacated to take this picture) between my parents and Aunt Flo, and bring “Uncle Red” into the reunion too! (Disclaimer: The first picture was also Photoshopped because I had to include the “picture taker” who insisted on not being in the group photo because “someone has to operate the camera” even though I was going to use the timer. So I just told her that I was going to put her in there anyway, and she was fine with that.) Uncle Red (1924-2009) had four children when Aunt Myrtle (1925-1966) passed away from cancer…Aunt Flo had three very young kids when Leroy proposed to her in 1967. They had one child together in 1968, and Leroy adopted the three kids. There is 13 years difference between the eight children, there is 8 years difference between all of my brothers and sisters, and together, there is 19 years between my oldest brother and my youngest cousin, a total of 14 grandchildren from Edwin (1893-1967) and Edna (1899-1963) Burdick.

My brother Bob catered the party, and he is pictured here in the church’s kitchen talking with Aunt Flo. Bob is the brother who got me into the Restaurant business back when I was 16 years old. He now works for a Steel Company, but still caters parties and especially weddings a few times each year strictly through ‘word of mouth’. He did a wonderful job with the food, as usual.

As everyone was enjoying the meal of New York Loin Roast, Ham, Chicken, shrimp, and a variety of veggies, bread and of course, dessert, I took these four pictures above from the four corners of the social hall of the church where we gathered at. As with all my pictures, if you click on a picture, it opens up to larger view of the picture.

After eating and picture taking, some of the people bid their farewells…while others stay and play the Christmas Gift Game. Those who stayed and played, about 35 players, about 50 people stayed, sit around a circle, the gifts put out in the center. Players all have a number from 1 to 35, and pick and open a gift in order. If you don’t like what you got, you can exchange with anyone who has already opened a gift…affectionately called “a steal”. This young great granddaughter of Aunt Flo was eyeing which gift to open…but her ‘real eyes’ were glued to the gift that her cousin has between his legs to the far left in the picture. Yep, she stole it, and was able to hang onto it to the end (who would want to break her little heart by stealing it from her?)

I wish I had a better picture, but I had to include this little tidbit too. Dave MacDonald, upper left in photo hiding behind his wife and daughter in-law, is the son of my Grandma Edna’s younger brother Laurence Albert MacDonald (1911-2001), better known as “Uncle Mac”, the owner of the Sacramento Wheel Service which I blogged about a few months ago. In a sense, for my generation, these family Christmas parties started way back at his house. Every Christmas Eve family would gather at Dave’s house for an equally wonderful Christmas Party. They had a basement, unusual for Sacramento, and in it was a “game room”. Unlike today’s game rooms, full of electronic games, it has a Bumper Pool Table (like the one pictured right since many people don’t know what one looks like anymore), Dart Board, and all sorts of things to play with…and being in the basement, us kids could almost get as loud as we wanted…with reason of course (and yes, sometimes we would cross that line and an adult had to come down to remind us to be good.) Dave’s boys and their wives and their grandchildren all came to the party too…it was sure nice to see them again…and I sure treasure those Christmas Eve memories at Uncle Mac and Aunt Mavis’s (1914-2007) house.

The church this was held in was one which all of us was raised in, but we actually attended the downtown Sacramento location more than here. It is a lovely church built by the members back in the ‘60’s. The chapel is lovely, and decked out for Christmas. But the best thing was seeing relatives, like my brother Bob’s son Jared, who I had not seen for many, many years. Thanks go out to Aunt Flo for keeping this tradition alive…and although we won’t make it next year, I am sure we will be back for future Burdick Christmas Parties.

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