#in our grade had fathers who taught the same subject as him also working at our school and i think about that a lot actually

[united-under-skyfall]

growing up in a small town is like. i want to get as far away from here as humanly possible and never look back. i've been sorted into homeroom classes with at least seven of the same kids from kindergarten through graduation and i don't know that we've ever talked longer than five minutes but i'd probably die for them. this would be a nice place to live for the rest of my life, i think. you know everyone in town by their family name even if you don't actually know any of them personally. i'm tired. everyone i know is tired. i hate it here. i never want to leave. we have nothing to do here and the boredom gouges tracks in my brain. i am personally offended by anyone not from here who says there's nothing to do here. everyone here knows too much about me. i know too much about everyone here. how does it feel to start from a blank slate? i would never know. there is a quiet, hidden sort of rage that everyone plants in their gardens. the lemonade at the market tastes like five-year-old laughter, the library smells like paper and the hot chocolate they used to make for events in the basement. the local history room hadn't changed since they installed it because there's nothing else to add, nothing else to know. i am tired. they're developing things and too much is changing too quickly and this has been the same unchanging neighborhood for fifty fucking years and now it's utterly unrecognizable from the place i knew barely a decade ago. i am never sure how much this change is a good thing, how much is too much. it feels like someone is peeling back my wallpaper skin when i'm not looking, painting different shades over what i thought should be there. i'm not the only person in this place but it feels strangely like they should have asked for my permission first, like i am part of its foundation, or maybe it's part of mine. (do we ask the bricks what they want the wall to look like, too?) we all share layers of the same memories that are slowly shifting and eroding, and you can see it everywhere you look, viscerally, physically. i think it is impossible to escape this place unless you are willing to bleed, and make bleed. it would be so, so easy to just disappear. the air feels fresher here than anywhere else, simply because it is the baseline my body has learned and my lungs have loved. i am so very, very tired. i think it's this place. i think i like it. i don't know. i don't know how to be anything else. i learned from brick and mortar, from pavement, from parks; buildings that served my mother as a child, graves no one visits anymore, trees older than my family line; everything sags, the colors washed out. they are tired, too.

#idk man. just. i was talking with a coworker today—an old classmate's mom—and she asked if i knew chris smith #and i said which chris smith there's two and she said the bald one and i said well yeah and she said his wife just died #and his wife was a twin who went to school with my mom. and of course my mom knew her because twins were kind of A Thing #in their grade. and i didn't realize this co-worker even knew who my mom was. and her husband is a teacher and three other kids #in our grade had fathers who taught the same subject as him also working at our school and i think about that a lot actually #half my friends chose their colleges based solely on how far away from home they are. and they were not aiming for proximity. #every day i drive along the same roads my schoolbus took and everyday the view looks a little less like it should #i alternate between never wanting to leave this place and wishing i never knew it existed in the first place #and i was thinking back on a lot of old conversations about this and. i'm just really in my feels about small towns rn man #and the incredibly complicated relationships both with it and with everyone and everything in it that are inherent to them #ramble #dead letter office got it i think #small towns #growing up

[jmreyes9]

REMEMBERING RUEL REYES ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF HIS DEATH

By Jesse Reyes

Ruel Mercurio Reyes was born on Oct. 13, 1946.  If he were alive today, he would have been 68 years old.  He passed away on April 24, 2008 in Puerto Princesa, Palawan, a place which he and his wife, Lydia, had learned to love.

Ruel was/is my first cousin, our fathers being brothers and our mothers, being sisters.  So no matter how you slice it, we were cousins through and through.  We were both born in Estancia, Iloilo and our middle names (Mercurio) are the same (on account of our mothers being sisters!) but that’s where our similarity ended.  

By the way, I was the best man (only second best to Ruel!) at his wedding.My earliest recollection of Ruel was when we were in the elementary grades.  He loved to read.  Whenever I would go to his home, I found him reading the Classics, famous books or stories published in comics form.  He had dozens of these in his collection  I learned to like them too and soon was hooked to them as well.

Ruel was very popular, in his class, but was also well-known in Philippine Union College (P.U.C.) because of his involvement in extracurricular activities and his being an eloquent public speaker.  His I.Q. was probably at or near the genius level, and he easily tackled and enjoyed difficult subjects like Physics, Chemistry and Calculus.  

Miss Ester Manalaysay, the quintessential physics teacher in P.U.C. told me one time that Ruel was the only student in P.U.C. that she gave a grade of A to in College Physics.  If that doesn’t tell us something about Ruel’s intelligence, I don’t know what will.  No wonder Dr. William Richli, the Flying Doctor, also considered a genius--who often appeared disheveled, even in public, not embarrassed to show himself with his clothes all dirty from working under a vehicle or on a machine--and Ruel took a liking for each other.  They apparently worked together in setting up the intercom system in P.U.C. and also did some work in Bacolod Sanitarium & Hospital and Mountain View College.  It was often said that when the two “geniuses” worked together, they “forgot” to eat as they were both oblivious of time!Everyone knew Ruel during his high school and college days in P.U.C.  

When I came to the United States and would meet former PUCians, I would tell them my name, and they would scratch their head or frown, meaning to say that they did not know or remember me.  However, when I told them I was a cousin of Ruel Reyes, they would smile and I would be an instant celebrity!A man of many talents, Ruel excelled in any field or endeavor that he put his heart into.  He was a good public speaker and a good singer (singing a solo of “O Perfect Love” at his wedding,) if my memory fails me not.  I remember, because I was the best man at his wedding, remember!  Since he loved Physics and Chemistry, he later  taught these subjects in P.U.C. Academy.  

Ruel also excelled in sports, particularly basketball where he was a star player.  I remember watching MICAA basketball games with him, his favorite team, and mine too, being YCO and his favorite player, Carlos (Caloy) Loyzaga.  He loved to play chess and sipa (a native Philippine sport).   He liked working on electronics and became an expert in computers, landing a job as a computer programmer in the United States.Surviving Ruel is his wife Lydia, whom he married in 1968. They have two children, Sharlene and Sharon.

Written in Chicago, IL on Oct. 13, 2014.  Revised on 4/7/17. Posted on FB 2017. Posted in my blog 11/19/22

.Note - A lot of information for this write-up was gleaned from the eulogy given by Wilma Talaa, sister of Ruel Reyes, during his funeral service in Puerto Princesa, Palawan, written by Sharlene Reyes, Ruel’s daughter, on 5/7/08.

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s parent teacher conference

Warnings: IronStrange, Supremefamily, bullied Peter, dick head teachers, anxious Peter and homophobia.

-Peter POV-

"Hey Bambi, why didn't you tell us about your parent-teacher conference tomorrow night?" Pops asked sitting next to me on the living room couch.

"I didn't think you would've wanted to go? Dads not the one for school or teachers and you're -well- you." I explained tentatively.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Just so you know, we'll be there for around 5 so just after your decathlon meeting. It'll just be me and your dad so no need to be embarrassed." Pops told me.

"Thanks. This'll be the first parent-teacher conference I would've ever been to." I told him.

"Same kid. It's a first time experience for us all." Pops smiled at me.

"Not many times that happens." I commented resting my head on his shoulder.

"No it's not Bambi, no it's not." He smiled putting his head on mine.

-Next day at 5 o'clock-

"Hey Penis, what're you still doing here? This is a thing for kids with parents." Flash taunted walked passed me in the gymnasium as I waited for my dads.

"Shut up Flash, you know nothing about my family." I told him.

"You better watch your tone Parker or you'll have another black eye." Flash threatened getting really close to me.

"If you would be so kind as to step away from my kid, it would he greatly appreciated." Pops' voice spoke from next to me. They must've just arrived.

"Oh my God! It's Stephen Strange! And Tony Stark!" Flash all but yelled making the whole room fall silent.

"It's Stephen Stark actually. I didn't spend thousands on a wedding for people to not recognise my changed last name." Pops corrected.

"I'm so sorry. I'm such a fan of both of your works." Flash blabbered composing himself.

"Eugene! We've been looking everywhere for you!" A man, who I presume is Flash's father, scolded walking up to us with a woman trailing behind.

"Sorry father but look who I found. The Starks." Flash excitedly announced.

At this point I slowly slipped away from him and walked up to my Dad who gladly greeted me with a hug. I could feel the warmth of the arc reactor on my chest and it gave a strange comfort. After a few moments we let go but I didn't move very far, being so close to Flash made me really anxious.

"Underoos you okay?" Dad asked me worriedly trying to look into my eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine, just tired. I was up late finishing a piece of homework last night." I lied hoping Pops wouldn't say anything as I fell asleep on him last night.

"Wow Mister Stark. I must say I'm a big fan of your work. If you haven't noticed I try to style myself off of you." Flash's father said showing off his black tailored suit and aviator sunglasses and reached out for a handshake.

"I'm flattered but I don't do handshakes. I'm not the biggest fan of touching." Dad told him trying to give a convincing smile.

"Then why've you got an arm around Pen-Peter?" Flash asked making both my Dads give him the 'Bitch WTF' look. I hate that look. Dad was about to say something but I decided to cut in.

"So, why don't we do what you came here to do and speak to my teachers? Sounds great, let's go." I spoke grabbing Pops' hand and dragging him and Dad to one of my teachers.

"Who was he?" Dad asked in a demanding tone.

"Nobody important. Look Mr. Harrington's free. Let's go and talk to him." I rushed and pulled my dads towards Mr. Harrington's table.

"Ah, Peter and Mr. and Mr. Stark. Lovely to meet you, I love all you've done for the world." Mr Harrington spoke as we took our seats.

"Thank you Mr. Harrington." Pops said.

"No problem. So, I teach Peter Physics and I've got no problems. The only thing I would say is that he is often on his phone during lesson and doesn't listen that much. However with that being said, he's never got below an A+ on his tests. You should be proud of him." Mr. Harrington smiled.

"We are. Is that all?" Dad said ruffling my hair slightly.

"That's all thanks." Mr. Harrington announced and shook Pops' hand before we walked away.

"That was a really good report but who're you texting during class? It better not be one of the others or your dad." Pops asked and gave Dad a pointed look.

"No it's this guy I met online. His names Harley Keener and he seems really nice." I explained as I lead them to my history teacher.

"Harley Keener?" Dad asked shocked.

"Yeah. Why? Do you know him?" I questioned.

"Sorta. I'll explain when we get home." Dad dismisses before turning around to face my history teacher Mrs. Keens.

"Wow, this is a shock. It's not everyday the Starks turn up to a parent-teacher conference. How are you both?" She rushed out slightly flustered.

"We're doing fine thank you. How is Peter in this subject?" Pops asked, straight to the point as always.

"Peter is amazing, always hands his homework in on time, always listens in lesson and has never received less than an A on a test. You should be proud of him." She informed smiling at me.

"Wow, our little goody-two-shoes." Dad teased ruffling my hair slightly.

"One thing that you may or may not be aware of is a boy called Eugene Thomson. He seems to be bullying Peter for whatever reason, I've caught him a few times throwing paper balls at Peter or sliding him malicious notes. I'm not sure if it's friendly or not but I felt you should know. Thank you." Mrs. Keens informed, may the ground swallow me up now.

"We will also discuss this later on." Pops told me sternly, oh no.

We left Mrs. Keens with a slight wave and headed back to the main area to find another teacher. My eyes landed on my English teacher who didn't seem very happy, this is not going to end well.

"Oh look, it's your English teacher." Dad commented and pointed to Mr. Malory. Fuuuuuuuuck.

"How do you know my English teacher?" I asked worriedly.

"Research department, making sure my son has the best education he can. Let's go to him now while he's free." Dad brushed off and started to walk towards him. God save me.

My English teacher hates me for no reason, always turns a blind eye to Flash, always nitpicks my assignments and finds any reason to not give me a good grade. He's also quite homophobic and has expressed on many occasions his hatred for my Dads and anything to do with them. He even leads a group called the 'Freedom from Starks'. This is so not ending well.

"Peter, didn't expect to see you here." Mr. Malory commented not looking up from his clip board.

"Well, this is a parent-teacher conference and I, as his parent, would like to speak to my sons teacher about his school work. If you'd be so kind." Dad said, his words oozing sarcasm and sass. He really did his research.

Mr. Malory picked his head up and stared Dad dead in the face. The distaste clearly shown on both faces as the three of us took our seats, Pops took Dad's hand, probably as a way to calm him down. This is worse than I thought.

"Well, if I'm being honest, Peter is the worse student I've ever taught. He's disruptive in lessons, throws paper at a wonderful student called Flash Thompson, slides Flash malicious notes and seems to find any excuse to blame Flash. His work is simply upgradable and I couldn't thing on a bigger lost cause than your son. Any questions?" Mr. Malory spoke and Dads face got redder and redder with anger.

"Really, then why did the last teacher we speak to say it was the other way around, that 'Flash' was the one throwing paper and passing notes?" Dad questioned leaning forward in his seat.

"Look, I don't know what happens in other lessons and quite frankly, I don't care. All I know is Peter is a major distraction and it's bordering bulling with Flash." Mr. Malory told us.

"What about his work is so upgradable? Is it his handwriting or the content of what he's writing?" Pops asked placing his other hand on top of Dads. This is getting serious.

"The content. The ludicrous stories of the Norse Gods and his 'adventures' with them are beyond reason. His stories are beyond the realm of possibility and are just ludicrous." Mr. Malory told them.

"His stories about the Norse Gods, does this involve Thor putting his hammer in inconvient places or Loki and black widow being kind and caring to others?" Das asked.

"Yes." Was Mr. Malory's short response.

"Well, it is within the realm of possibility as it happens. Every single day at the compound or sanctum." Pops spit out trying to keep calm.

"Oh well, maybe he should learn to be more creative with his stories." Mr. Malory spoke silently challenging Pops.

"Thanks sir." I hastily said before dragging both my dads out of their seats and walking off.

"No Pete, I would like to hear more about how much of a bad student you are." Dad argued challenging Mr Mallory.

"And I will be glad to provide. Mr Park-"

"Stark." Dad deadpans.

"Mr Stark is highly disruptive not only to Mr Thomson but is also always on his phone, sleeping in class or just straight up not listening. Honestly, his behaviour is a reflection as to why you people shouldn't be allowed to have kids, you simply don't know how to raise them." Mr Mallory continued to explain. Dad went red.

"What do you mean by you people?" Pops asked scarily calm as be placed a hand on Dad's knee to soothe him slightly.

"Gays. You shouldn't be allowed children because there's not a mother to properly raise them, I never had these issues when Peter lived with May. I honestly think it would be in his best interest to place him back in her care."

Oh my god. He knows May is dead. He knows that I can't be 'placed back in her care' and It was the same when I did live with her, nothing changed.

We were all stunned into silence, including some of the surrounding parents and teachers who were stunned. Well, we were silent until Dad blew up at him.

"How dare you," he began, "I take as good care of my son as any other parent here does, I give him as much as I can and do everything I can to be a good parent to him. If he's sleeping in your classes or being distracted then maybe you should make your lessons more interesting and not be blind sighted by your homophobic, bigoted and downright dickish beliefs. Your head may be crammed so far up your ass you can smell your lungs but maybe once join us in the real world and see that just because people are different doesn't mean they're not as capable. I will be putting in a formal complaint and if I were you, I'd start looking for new places of employment seeing as I am one of the biggest donators to this school. Come on Pete, we're going home."

Dad then grabbed Pops' hand and my arm before storming out of the building towards the car. You could see the steam coming out of his ears as Pops tried in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

I think I can safely say that this night was a disaster.

#ironstrange #tony stark #doctor strange #mcu #marvel #iron man #DOMESTIC AVENGERS #parent teacher conferences #SUPPORTIVE AVENGERS #supportive tony stark #soft Tony stark #sofy doctor strange #stephen strange

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? III // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: The aftermath of both the car accident and the proposal is something Luke struggles with dividing you two for the first time. With an ultimatum in place Luke finds himself standing in front of his childhood home but can he open the door he had locked and shut?

Warning: Swearing, talk of injuries, self-guilt, angst, Unsaid Emily (I’m a terrible person), and fluff (I SWEAR THERE IS FLUFF IN THIS)

Words: 4.0k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog . There will be two more parts at least.

A/N: Grammarly estimates that this will take a little over 15 minutes to read. I also almost made you not get an answer to a make or break question somewhere in here but I wanted to make up for the cliffhanger in part one.

*Bobby’s last name in this is Willis, it will come clear why soon.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist (other parts for What If can be found in the masterlist)

(This goddamn shirt is also a warning holy christ)

Hollywood 1996

Life after the car accident was strange, to say the least. You lived with the guilt that your father couldn’t pick up a guitar. He had severely broken his arm in the crash in the instinctive moment to protect you. Your mother hovered, and Luke was there, but something changed since his hospital proposal.

There was a weird tension between you and him that concerned Alex because Luke wouldn’t talk about it. He would change the subject whenever Alex inquired about that empty ring box he found. Luke hadn’t told the guys he planned to propose and being rejected wasn’t something he wanted to share. However, one night he finally did.

“You could propose at the Eiffel Tower!” Reggie suggested having seen a commercial with the tower in the background. His excitement was visible to the band members in the living room.

 “Too cheesy.” Luke grumbled, rolling his eyes slouching down on the couch, “I’m not proposing.”

“I understand it’s a big step b-“

“I’m not proposing because I already did.” Luke snapped running hand through his messy hair with a glower. Alex was quiet, taking in the news and watching Luke’s body language.

“Oh congrat-“

“Read the damn room.” Luke snapped, slamming his pen on the coffee table as he stalked up the stairs to his bedroom. The resounding slam of his door marking his anger more prominent. Alex flinched at the sound.

“Was it something-“

“Seriously man?” Alex groaned, shaking his head at the bassist standing up from the armchair leaving the bassist the lone sitter, “You are so lucky you can play bass.”

Alex left Reggie downstairs to enter Luke’s room where he was throwing darts at the board harshly. Luke didn’t need to turn around to know Alex was in his personal place with one goal in mind, to cheer his bandmate up.

“What happened?” Alex asked, sitting in the second-hand office chair with a hole in the seat. His blue eyes watching the jerky movements from the obviously frustrated guitarist.

“She said no.” Luke whispered, rubbing a hand over his weary hazel eyes, more of a blue with the sadness he felt, “I proposed, and she said no.”

“I’m sorry. Did Y/N say why?” Alex hesitated to ask the question fearing Luke would fully snap as he had down a few times in the past. The one time was when he found Alex crying as an asshole overheard Alex admit to his crush on Jonathan Taylor Thomas after seeing him on Home Improvement. Courtesy of Luke, that asshole never breathed a word about it.

“An ultimatum. She won’t say yes until I fix things with my parents.” Luke sighed collapsing onto his bed, staring at the blue ceiling. Going back home after hurting his mom was something hard to do.

The night he left had been filled with a lot of words he regretted saying, he can’t even remember the last time he told his mom he loved her. The last time dinner hadn’t been tense and filled with anger. There was a pang of deep guilt for running out on his family, his mother and seeing the missing person posters further hammered the guilt in.

“She has a point.” Alex admitted, “We made it. We proved to our parents that this band was worth it. Take it from me. I would give anything for my parents to be the way they were before I told them I’m gay.”

Luke was quiet.

“You have a chance to fix things and Luke, that’s something you’ll regret. Remember the night of The Orpheum? We were gonna get street dogs? If we had, we would have died man.”

“I guess we got lucky?” Luke half-smiled remembering when they had been walking near the Orpheum a few days after performing.

The guy that sold the street dogs was arrested, and an ambulance was taking a couple to the hospital. The couple died, and it made the guys think how close they could have come to dying all the times they ate out of the Oldsmobile.

“We did. She loves you, Luke, but if you love her. You’ll reach out to your parents. I know they would love it.” Alex spoke, squeezing his best friends’ shoulder before he let himself out of the bedroom.

Alex joined Reggie in the living room watching a VHS they had rented from Blockbuster this morning. A smile appearing on Alex’s face as the muted familiar sound of a guitar came from upstairs. The sad melody Luke had taught his band playing.

“So, what year do you think we should release a country album? I can play the banjo.” Reggie asked, looking over at Alex with a thoughtful expression, “I’ve been writing this wicked song. I’m thinking of calling it ‘Home is Where My Horse Is’? How long would it take you to learn how to fiddle?”

“Reggie. I love you man, but I am not gonna be barefoot in overalls fiddling.” Alex spoke, shaking his head at his bandmate who pouted softly.

Alex and Reggie fell asleep on the couch that night while Luke worked tirelessly through the night on Unsaid Emily. It was by far the most personal song he had ever written, but it was the only way he could release the feelings he had. By the time morning came, his eyes had turned bloodshot and swollen.

Luke’s hands trembled at the sight of the childhood home he hadn’t been inside in months, not since that cold December night he left. The car was parked in the very same spot with the front bumper still dinged from when Luke was practising for his license.

Luke had developed a streak to avoid the bitter taste of disappointment from his parents. He would sneak out to gigs or little known locations with Alex; either for the band and his secret relationship. Luke never breathed a word of the relationship for the safety of Alex and avoid anything that would spike his boyfriend’s anxiety. The guilt died down when he and Alex mutually decided to be friends instead, but the band topic was different. At fourteen it was becoming apparent to Luke’s parents that this band wasn’t a hobby to him anymore, the first time his parents regretted buying the guitar.

“C’mon!” Bobby hissed from the safety of the curb. Luke was behind the wheel of his family’s station wagon in the dead of night. Reggie stationed in front of the car and Alex behind it, “This is stupid guys!”

Luke shakily took a breath in putting the car in drive to align with Reggie before he placed the vehicle in reverse. Learning to parallel park seemed to be going well as Luke did okay pulling into the parking spot. He got ahead of himself; however, when he moved to drive forward to center between Reggie and Alex. He may have hit the gas too hard.

“Ah!” Reggie screamed as the car bumped in him in the leg. The boy went down shuddering while his three friends hurried to his side.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked not minding the sting of the asphalt on his covered knees seeing as he just hit his best friend.

“I’m good.” Reggie raised one thumb in the air. Each boy leaned back in relief confirming the bassist was as good as Reginald could be.

 “Why the hell didn’t you move out of the way?” Luke demanded helping the boy up from the ground with a deep frown.

 “I was a traffic cone. Cones can’t move unless they get moved.” Reggie proudly announced with his typical oblivious attitude. Reggie wasn’t stupid, he was definitely the comedic relief in the band and prided himself on it.

“I-what. Okay..” Alex whispered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Sometimes I don’t know Reg.”

Reggie shrugged it off while a familiar girl jogged down the road with a furrowed brow, a girl that had lived in Luke’s neighbourhood for a while. She was moving to a bigger house soon, but she was an acquaintance that had never acknowledged the group.

“Are you okay?” The girl, you, questioned the bassist scanning him over as Luke stared dreamily at her. His ever-changing eye colour turning a soft mossy green at the girl that had held his heart for years; only temporarily vacating it for Alex.

“Oh, totally. This doesn’t hurt as much as the amp.” Reggie supplied waving it off whereas you were more worried the guy hit his head. Your gaze scanned the boys of Riot Curve. A deep developing on the pale cheeks of the Patterson boy.

“Aren’t you guys in my grade?” You questioned pursing your lips together, “You’d be like thirteen. Why are you driving? Aren’t you a little short to see over the steering wheel?”

A bark of laughter fell from Bobby Willis’ mouth, earning him a glance from you, closing his mouth as Luke’s look of disgust.

“I’m not short!” Luke shouted, “I’ll have you know I grew!”

You snickered at his offended expression, “Dude, I’m joking. You’ll get a growth spurt soon. Besides, I think you have bigger issues than your vertical challenge.”

A question fell from Luke’s lips before he followed your view. The bumper of his parent’s car had a small dent that his father would most definitely discover at some point.

“Oh, I am dead meat.” Luke sprouted just before the guys started brainstorming explanations that didn’t include four fourteen-year-old boys out after curfew driving.

“Hey, I have a little experience with bands and whatnot. Just a suggestion, maybe consider changing your band name from Riot Curve to something else.” You suggested starting to jog back to your house, “See you in class!”

Luke once again stared dreamily after your form forgetting what he should be worried about.

“Our name is already-“

“Sunset Curve.” Luke shouted, earning weird looks from his bandmates at the rather uncharacteristic change of mind, “We are renaming the band.”

“Why?” Bobby scoffed, “We agreed on Riot Curve!”

“Uh, no. You two did. Reggie and I weren’t there.” Alex raised one his eyebrows facing Bobby, “I was sick with the flu, and Reggie was at his aunt’s second wedding.”

“Why the name?” Reggie asked his pining lead singer flicking his gaze between Luke and the empty place where you had been.

“Because that was the first time, she talked to me. A sunset behind her brightening the pretty curve of her smile.” Luke sighed scrambling when the front step light at his house turned on. Each boy running for the safety from the Patterson windows.

“I like the name! I didn’t like the violence in the other name!” Alex shouted, rushing towards his bicycle to head back home. 

That was also the last time Luke saw you until 1993 at that concert as you moved to the medium-sized mansion by then.

Luke grinned at the memory of how he actually spoke to the girl of his dreams before everything went full to shit. Reggie’s parents started fighting, Bobby grew more into girls than music, Alex told his parents he was gay. Luke finally sat down with his parents telling him that he wouldn’t go to college and didn’t want to finish high school. He did finish high school to appease his parents even after running away.

“Luke?” The breathless question brought the guitarist back to the present time and to the blue eyes of his father. The shock on the man’s face preceding the tears building up, “Son.”

“Hon?” Luke’s knees collapsed as he heard the soft voice that had read him stories and sung lullabies when he was a child. Emily gasped as she saw the one person she had wished to find for so long, “Luke.”

“Mom.” Luke choked, raising his hands to press them to his face, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“Sh. Baby.” Emily wasted no time in scooping her son into her arms, so thankful nothing terrible had happened to him. She didn’t care where or what he had been doing as long as he in her arms again.

A hand clapped his shoulder to squeeze, announcing his father silently thanking whatever God there was for bringing his son home. That they didn’t have to worry blue and red lights would precede news no parent wanted to hear.

“Can I come in?” Luke asked tentatively. A soft hand brushing his hair away from his eyes for his parents to finally see the unique eye colour their son had inherited.

Emily ushered her son into the kitchen that hadn’t changed in the time Luke had been gone, the only difference being the Christmas decorations put away. They would reappear the last week of November; Emily wouldn’t have to struggle to put the ornaments on the tree without her son.

“I don’t know how to say what I want. Could I…could I sing please?” Luke murmured to his parents. It was a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to be answered. He hadn’t brought his guitar just in case it was the wrong move. His parents regretted buying him that guitar.

“Of course.” Mitch spoke, climbing to his height, “Just one moment.”

Luke watched his father leave the kitchen only to shortly return, holding a beautiful acoustic guitar. He had never seen it in his life either. He was confused when Mitch set the guitar into Luke’s lap.

“You’re like your mom. When she worries the only thing that can help calm her is knitting. I figured the guitar is your way of knitting.” Mitch calmly told his son choosing to not bright attention to tears in either of the Patterson men’s eyes.

Luke settled on the couch in the living room while Mitch and Emily took to their respective long known spots. Ones that faced the windows perfect for knitting and reading with natural light. Emily reached over to hold her husband’s hand while Luke started strumming.

First things first

We start the scene in reverse.

 All of the lines rehearsed.

 Disappeared from my mind

When things got loud

 One of us running out

 I should have turned around.

 But I had too much pride.

No time for goodbyes

 Didn’t get to apologize

 Pieces of a clock that lies broken

Not a dry eye in the Patterson home as Luke gave the best performance of his life. Performance didn’t build a bridge between him and his parents, why make a new bridge when the first one only needs repairs.

“Please record that.” Emily choked wiping her face of tears, “I want that on your first album, I loved it. I’m going to buy the first CD it’s on.”

Luke Patterson smiled a piece instead of healing at her words and the acceptance he had craved. Now he just had to propose again.

The cosy soft knit blanket Emily gave you at Christmas the first time you met Luke’s parents when it became clear that the relationship was serious. It was one that you cuddled into for a sense of comfort, eyes focused on the demo the song was waiting. Fingers itching to put in the CD player and listen to the finished product.

“Hey. Sweetheart you gotta stop blaming yourself.” Lance spoke coming to sit beside you on the piano bench. The bench you had learnt how to play directly across from the couch that you spent hours with him on learning the guitar.

“How can I? I asked for a ride, and you might never play again.” You scoffed, bringing your knees to your chest. Lance’s heart broke, hearing the guilt leaking from your words and the slump on your shoulders.

“I picked you up because I love you. You’re my daughter, my baby and I’m gonna tell you something that hope knocks some sense in that head.” Your Dad sternly spoke, taking your hand to place on his cast, “This? This doesn’t matter. If I hadn’t done this, you would be dead, and I wouldn’t be able to hold a guitar because you wouldn’t get to hear me play. I’d rather not be able to play and have my daughter alive.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your hero wiped your tears tugging you in his arms, “Besides I’m a Y/L/N, we don’t let other people tell us how to live.”

Lance leaned over to insert the CD into the machine before pressing play bringing a soft melody in the room. You snuggled into his side as his rich voice broke through into the most beautiful song you had ever heard. Unbeknownst to you, Luke stood in the doorway with his bandmates listening to the gorgeous record.

“I love it.” You whispered glancing over your shoulder, feeling the gaze of someone, and while you expected your mother, the sight was welcome. Not a dry eye in the room as the last chord rang with the joyful voice of a little girl; your voice from a family video.

“That’s beautiful.” Luke breathed grinning when you swiftly made your way into his open arms, “I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you like I should have been. I was hurt, and I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Was that the song that was playing- OW!” Reggie exclaimed rubbing the back of his head that Bobby had thumped. The bassist grimacing at the pain clueing that it wasn’t the greatest question he had said.

“Bittersweet was the song playing. This is the finished product.” Lance confirmed standing to his full height, “How about I let you see some unreleased songs?”

Lance ushered everyone but you and Luke from the room for privacy only winking before closing the door. Luke breathed out, leading you back to the couch with his hands squeezing your own.

“You were right,” Luke announced brushing the pad of his thumb under your eye to swipe an eyelash. His hazel eyes showing more of the green with the adoration gleaming from them, “It hurt being rejected but you were right about it. I hurt my parents by running out one them, especially my mom. I don’t want to hurt her more by excluding her from the biggest moment of my life.”

Your own hand raised to cup his cheek heart bursting when Luke turned his head to press a chaste kiss to the palm.

“You couldn’t guess how much it ached telling you no. I wanted to so badly, but your mom was always so good to me. I didn’t want her to miss out on anything.”

“She won’t miss out.” Luke replied, tugging you to your feet, “I went home, and we talked it through.”

Your feet cemented to the floor, “You went to see them?”

“I did. I was no sure Mom and Dad hated me for running away, for choosing music over them.”

“You didn’t choose music over them, Lu. You made a decision that they didn’t like, but you did what you were raised to do. They taught you to stand up for yourself, never second guess or quit.” You passionately told him, “They love you with their whole heart, they just didn’t understand how important music is to you at the time.”

“God, I love you so much. I would do anything for you.” Luke tugged you into his arms, bringing your attention to his different outfit choice.

He was wearing his best black jeans with no holes but still the chains, but his wallet wasn’t on display. His lucky blue rabbit’s foot was clipped to his necklace laying over the long sleeve purple corduroy shirt. The shirt he wore a lot when he wanted to be wanted to a little more dressed up.

“You’re wearing that shirt.” You stated glancing up to the boy, “And your lucky rabbit’s foot is not on your chains.”

Luke smirked, leading you through the house to the backyard where Luke had asked Nancy to be. Your mother sat at the piano with your father beside her, Nancy and Lance Y/L/N hadn’t sat at a piano together since you were tiny. Tears built up as Luke gently brought you into his arms entirely in time with the notes that Nancy began.

Heart beats fast

Colors and promises

How to be brave

 “Are you trying to make me cry?” You choked as he used the dance lessons he took with his mom twirling you around. As if you couldn’t cry more your gaze found Reggie strumming the acoustic guitar. Alex waiting at his drums with a grin at Luke and you.

I have died every day, waiting for you.

Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years.

I’ll love you for a thousand more.

Everything faded as you two gazed into each other’s eyes, in his you swore you saw every moment with Luke play. The sweaty palms shy to hold each other to the first kiss, the second kiss, sharing the most vulnerable time at sixteen, his serenading at seventeen after signing with a label and everything between those precious moments.

Time stands still

Beauty in all she is

I will be brave

I will not let anything, take away.

What’s standing in front of me

Every breath, every hour has come to this.

Bobby made his presence known harmonizing with you mom so low you barely heard, but it was Luke singing that enthralled you. Everything about this moment you would remember for the rest of your life.

The music faded as Luke took a step back to kneel down in front of you with the ring he had yearned to give you. The ring his mother had held on to for the girl Luke would fall in love with. She had given it a few days previous so thoroughly happy she got the opportunity to pass it down.

“Luke.” You breathed cupping your hands, one still in a brace, over your shocked face. His expression softened into the most loving one you had ever receiving in the years you had been together.

“My life has been leading me to this very moment. I believe that I was guided into music because of this absolutely perfect moment. Surrounded by the people who cheered us on and gave wisdom. The people that gave us a look at what true love is supposed to be.” Luke began keeping his entire focus on the love his life, “I knew about you before you knew me. I was ten when I saw you during recess sitting up against the tree with your walkman. I fell for you at that moment, but it wasn’t until I hit Reggie with the car that I got to talk to you.”

You giggled as you remembered running to a group of guys after seeing one get hit. If only you knew who they were at that time.

“Our first real conversation was at a concert, and I fell in love at that moment, and I am so thankful you gave me a chance. There isn’t anyone else, sorry, Alex!” Luke teased over his shoulder, earning a chuckle in response, “There isn’t anyone I want to spend my life with. You are my muse, the person I share every lyric with, my love and my soulmate.”

“Luke.” You choked reaching up to cup his cheeks so close not a single sheet of paper would move between you.

“Will you marry me? In front of our parents and our friends?” Luke shakily questioned begging for his rabbit’s foot to work with it being close to his heart.

“Yes.” You answered, reaching up to pull his face down to yours. The most passionate kiss of your life he wrapped his arms around you waist lifting you in his arms; he twirled around with you.

This was his most significant moment ever. The Orpheum could never live up to this.

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#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie imagines #what if...? luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

[green-ann]

How Valera Legasov wanted to change the Komsomol

From Margarita Legasova’s book “Academician Valery Alekseevich Legasov”

Memories of V.S. Kuznetsov, Valery Legasov’s comrade at school

<...>Now I must tell you about the most dramatic event from the school life of V. Legasov, which, perhaps, sheds the greatest light on all his subsequent actions. At the end of the 9th grade (and it was 1953, March 5th - death of the "leader of all peoples») Valery as always brilliantly coped with the work in the Komsomol committee of the school. But suddenly a rumor spread through the school that he was busy forming an advanced ideological core within the Komsomol organization. It is difficult to say how this became known.

Valery did not talk to us, members of the committee, on this subject, at least to me. Apparently, he considered us conformists. I was invited to this organization, conceived by him, by my friend from the yard - Yu. Popov. Yurka Popov was a bright, enthusiastic person with a pronounced charisma. The school team knew him well. Valery proposed to him and a number of other guys with strong characters to create a still conspiratorial, and later on, an open, forward-looking core of the Komsomol.

Legasov has long been troubled by the passivity, indifference of ordinary Komsomol members, lack of faith in ideals, and a tendency towards a "philistine" way of life. I knew these mood oh his and shared them. In our long conversations on the street promenades (there was no television then, so no one was at home in the evenings) we brought up different subjects: school, teachers, education, family, sports, art, cinema, the influence of elders on young people, etc. Our favorite literary heroes were Pavka Korchagin, Ovod, Rakhmetov, Martin Eden, Seryozha Tyulenin, i.e. bright people, capable of giving their lives for an idea. Maybe the impending changes in the country pushed Valery to action. He developed the structure of the organization, consisting of the leaders of the fives, who recruit their own people. By creating this new organization of a like-minded people, V. Legasov hoped to show everyone else that the ideas of communism are not a utopia, not a paper scheme, but a powerful course of society's life, capable of capturing everyone and turning them into fighters for common happiness.

Alas, these impulses of his were nipped in the bud. Valery had to explain his position both to the headmaster and to the Komsomol committee. It was a cruel lesson that life had taught him. Although (the reader could conclude from my story) Legasov never sought publicity, did not like to stand out, but his ambition was hurt. But, oddly enough, all these troubles he had endured easily, at least externally. He told me that he realized his mistake after a late-night conversation with his father, who told him that whatever reforms he had come up with for the Komsomol, the people were still the same, and he would never get the desired effect.

This story became for Valery not only a lesson of courage, but also a powerful incentive to study. In the 10th grade, he highly improved in all subjects and became an absolute pretender for the gold medal and received it.

I think the idea of helping people was one of the motives for his existence. <..>

@alyeen1 @elenatria @litttlesilkworm @kylos-scarf @the-jewish-marxist @ignalina-c0re @owlboxes @borislegasov @natasharedfox @seaweednpeanuts @sunset-and-periwinkle @valerafan2 @johnlockismyreligion

#valery legasov #valerylegasov #margarita legasova #my translation #history talk #ussr history #Komsomol

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Two

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully.

All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class.”

Students filed into the corridor, too busy rushing to their next destination to take note of the visitor as she slipped into the lecture hall. Branching off from the main room itself was a small office, and inside, a lone professor plugging attendance data and homework grades into a blocky desktop computer. Gianna waited until the last lingering students dispersed before announcing herself with a knock on the doorframe.

The professor looked up. “Well look who it is.” She adjusted her glasses and squinted at the figure before her, taking all of her in from the spots of dribbled varnish on her shoes upward. “And who is it who stands before me? Not Virgil’s little girl.”

“I actually go by Gianna these days. Or Ms Alexander if you’re feeling formal,” she said wryly, though not without affection. 

Her face broke out in a grin that deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She unhooked her cane from the arm of her chair and stood. “The last time I saw you, Gianna, you were half-- no, a quarter of your height and missing your front teeth. Time is a funny thing, isn’t it.”

“You’re telling me, Dr Bagnol.”

“Call me Petra. Or Professor if you’re feeling formal.” She winked and patted her arm. “We are colleagues of a kind now, aren’t we? I think you’ve earned the privilege.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re a biochemistry teacher and I fuss around with cotton swabs.”

“Technicalities! Don’t sell yourself short. You know, your father called just recently and when he told me you were going to be working here, I thought he was going to burst a lung the way he wouldn’t stop singing your praises.”

Gianna blushed at that.

“Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t set your sights higher than our humble university. I heard you were studying in Naples for a while.”

“I guess I was feeling homesick. Then I moved back in with my parents for a while and soon it was the opposite feeling.”

“Sick of home,” she supplied. “I know the feeling. I remember being your age, never wanting to be still for a moment. I was only surprised to hear you weren’t seduced away by foreign shores.”

She shrugged. “It was never about distance, I just needed to find a place where I felt like my life could really begin. And for right now I think that’s here.” Wanting to move the subject away from herself she added, “Dad says hi, by the way. He also says you need to start answering your email more than once a year.”

“Email. A man of literature like your father should give more respect to the written word. You tell him I won’t settle for less than a hand-scribed letter, like they did in the old days. I want to smell that clean valley air he goes on about etched into the paper.”

Gianna laughed. It was reassuring to find some things never changed. Although the silver in her hair had grown more prominent, Dr Bagnol was in many ways just the same as she remembered her. She never knew exactly how she and her father had met, only that it was while they were both still students, and that Petra had been a firecracker from the start, determined to surpass the role that had been imposed on her as a disabled woman in a field that was often unwelcoming to her. Though Gianna couldn’t say she knew her very well personally, the mythos that had been handed down to her had definitely played a part in her decision to become more independent. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Petra said. “Virgil dropped some hints that I should track you down once you started working here but I told him I wouldn’t have that kind of attitude. You’re a grown woman and you don’t need nannying. However,” She picked up a tote from her desk and slung it around her shoulder. “Since you came to me, I’m free to invite you to lunch.”

“Dad wanted you to check up on me?”

“Don’t take it for a lack of faith in you. Parents worry. It’s what they do. I’m sure he just wanted you to have a familiar face to turn to, should you need it. Come to lunch with me, Gianna. We’ll catch up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to--”

“I’m just going to keep asking until you give in. You know that, right?”

She felt herself soften under her insistence. It wasn’t as if she had other plans anyway. “Yeah, alright. That sounds nice.”

Petra led the way to a little sandwich shop not far off campus and, despite Gianna’s protests, insisted on treating her. The weather was kind to them that day so they took their lunch on the patio watching the cars crawl by to the rhythm of the neverending traffic. They sat and ate and spoke of nothing in particular until, without warning, Dr Bagnol’s gaze caught on something in the distance that put a troubled frown on her face.

“What is it?” She started to turn in her seat.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Her voice had taken on a sharp quality that startled the young woman, but she caught herself and when she spoke again her voice was even and deliberate. “I thought I saw someone I knew. That’s all.”

Not satisfied with her answer, Gianna glanced over her shoulder. Across the street, standing motionless in front of the crosswalk, was the withered old man she had seen in the garden that first day: Beatrice’s father.

Ever since she had met her that one evening on the fire escape, Gianna had come into the habit of chatting with her almost every day. She couldn’t always guarantee she’d be home from work when Beatrice went out to tend the garden, but on the days she spied her from her window she never hesitated to climb down and visit. 

Their chats together weren’t anything especially profound; she got the impression Beatrice really just wanted a friend to keep her company while she worked and Gianna was happy to provide. Often they kept the conversation light and simple. One would ask about the other’s day, or an interesting book they read, or something they heard in the news. Then Beatrice would eventually be summoned by her father or the memory of some other chore she had to attend to inside, and they would part ways.

On the occasions Beatrice wasn’t in such a pleasant mood however, no matter the initial topic the conversation would eventually find its way back to her father. Apparently he was, as Gianna had predicted, in a bad state and sick more often than not, and while Beatrice wasn’t his sole caretaker he trusted her more than the average nurse. The old man had been a doctor before being reduced to the role of patient, and a somewhat renowned one at that. He had homeschooled his daughter and taught her everything he knew. Now she was expected to apply that knowledge by taking on the bulk of responsibility for his care.

He was frail, she said, and the state of his health could be unpredictable, so she was on constant vigil. The only time she really had to herself was when he was asleep or on a rare errand, and she spent that time for the most part in the garden, the place that gave her the greatest sense of peace. It must have been hard on her, Gianna often thought, to be in the prime of her life and chained to his bedside. She understood though. If it had been either of her parents she was sure she would have done the same. 

Knowing this also gave her some more sympathy for the old man. It painted him in a more human light, and she berated herself for ever being afraid of him in the first place. But seeing him here now, staring at her again with those scrutinous sunken eyes, resurfaced some of that initial dread. Dr Bagnol seemed to sense it too.

At the moment Beatrice’s father was wearing an unseasonal gray overcoat and carrying an old-fashioned black carpet bag. He lifted his free hand and slowly waved at Gianna, his stony features cracking with the barest attempt at a smile, which did nothing to soften his appearance. In fact, the more she looked at him the more leering the grin appeared to be.

“Don’t acknowledge him, Gianna,” said Dr Bagnol coldly.

“No, no, it’s fine. That’s just my neighbor.” She forced herself to give a friendly wave in return. 

Petra reached across the table and grabbed her hand back. “What do you mean he’s your neighbor?”

“His building is next to mine. Why?” 

She sighed shakily and gave another glance across the street. The man was beginning to shuffle away now, the retreating shape of him becoming swallowed up by the crowd of fellow pedestrians. Petra released her hand and drew in a tense breath. She steepled her fingers together over the table.

“His name is Giacoma Rappaccini. He was… I knew him, for a time. Not well. He came to me for some insight on a project of his years ago.”

“I heard he was a doctor,” Gianna offered. “You worked together?”

The professor chose her next words carefully. “Officially, he was a 'doctor of holistic and alternative medicines', before he retired that is. But he liked to dabble. Botany, chemistry, anthropology, philosophy. I knew when I met him that he was the sort of man who could spend a hundred years studying and still feel he hadn't learned enough.” She smiled ruefully. “It was a quality we shared, so I agreed to assist him.”

“Doesn't seem like you like the guy much.”

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully. All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class. 

"He's a brilliant intellectual, sure, but he lacks any compassion, any consideration for the value of human life outside of points of data on a chart. He never cared about helping people with his medicine; he only ever cared about pushing his own limits. I think, in the end, he must have pushed himself too far."

Gianna sat and processed that. The man did give her the creeps but in the scant few times she’d witnessed him he’d never come across as malevolent, and Beatrice clearly loved him. Even on the bad days, she only ever spoke well of him, and it was hard to believe a girl like Beatrice could exist without having had a loving upbringing. Whoever her mother was or had been surely was loved by him as well. That was enough evidence for Gianna that he couldn’t be everything Petra claimed him to be.

“You said he’s your neighbor. Has he ever spoken to you? Invited you over?”

She shook her head. “Rumor has it he’s a pretty private person, and I’m not exactly going over to borrow a cup of sugar or anything.”

Gianna opted not to mention her afternoons with his daughter.

She relaxed at that reassurance. “Good. Take my advice and stay far away from Rappaccini. Nothing good ever came from getting too chummy with that man. Now, where were we?”

They changed topics and the conversation gradually returned to safer, more pleasant territory, but Gianna couldn't stop thinking about what she had said, about the old man and about the sweet but melancholy girl who was left alone with him.

-----

Against the professor’s advice, Gianna did continue meeting with Beatrice. It hadn’t even been a question in her mind whether she would. If anything, knowing about Petra’s history with Dr Rappaccini made her all the more curious about the young woman. 

She reasoned that she was still technically acting in line with Dr Bagnol’s wishes; she hadn’t so much as glimpsed the shadow of the man since their lunch outing, and the more she spoke with Beatrice the more certain she felt that the daughter was nothing like the boogieman father Petra had described to her, however much of her telling was even accurate.

Beatrice was a sweetheart, bookish and reserved. She smothered laughs behind her hand and averted her eyes when she found herself caught in Gianna’s warm gaze. She was smart, happily listing off the latin genuses of her favorite plants and reciting lessons on phytochemicals she suddenly remembered (she might as well have been speaking latin here too, for as much as Gianna understood her) but at the same time strangely naive. 

She had a boundless love for the world, yet Gianna got the impression she’d seen very little of it. Her eyes always went wide with interest when Gianna spoke of the traveling she’d done. Gianna never thought it was all that impressive but she would gladly talk about it, would say just about anything in fact, if it would get her to pay more attention to her than her flowers for a moment. 

One time, Gianna playfully inserted a flirtatious Italian phrase into their conversation and was flustered to find Beatrice spoke it near fluently, as well as Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian…

“How many languages do you know?” she asked, stunned.

“Six,” she replied. “Not counting English. I’m thinking about trying Mandarin next, and I can read Arabic but can’t speak it. Honestly, I’m not great with the conversational stuff. I’m just good at memorizing new vocabulary and being able to understand multiple languages gives me a much wider variety of reading material.”

She spoke about her talent with words like it was a card trick she’d picked up in her spare time.

“What do you like to read about?”

That got her excited. When Beatrice got excited she found it harder to play coy or smother her emotions under a layer of cool composure, so of course Gianna tried to get her excited as often as possible.

“Everything. Anything. Father’s library is huge but it’s mostly textbooks and old scientific journals and stuff like that. Which is fine,” she added hurriedly. “I like to read those too, but what I really like to read is… romance novels.”

She confessed it like it was some deep dark secret, grinning and turning berry red beneath the brown of her skin. It occurred to Gianna quite suddenly that she was falling in love with her. 

The panic set in right away. She had been happy to have Beatrice as a friend, tamping down her attraction in order to keep spending time with her, but now it was becoming clear that the dam wouldn’t hold forever. She needed to say something, if only to keep from leading her on, if only to keep her from getting the wrong idea or, heaven forbid, the right one. 

What if she was straight? Did gay girls read romance too? Did gay girls wear their dresses long and their hair short like her? Gianna had crushed on butches, on femmes, on lipstick, chapstick, snapback, every kind of sapphic on the vast spectrum of preference and presentation, and she still couldn’t get a read on her. Beatrice seemed to be from another world, another time, somehow out of step with the rest of humanity. If she started dropping hints, she couldn’t predict if she would follow her lead or recoil in disgust and never speak to her again.

That night, Gianna had a strange dream. She might have expected she would, given how wound up she’d felt since their last discussion. The ghost of her had followed her up, back through the window of her apartment, and as she tossed and turned in bed that night she was dizzy with it.

In her dream, she found herself walking in a cathedral. As was the way with dreams, her sight was blurry and visions danced and flickered in front of her eyes before vanishing in the same instant. However even as the edges of her surroundings blurred like a bad photograph, she heard the echoing of her footsteps clearly, and felt the largeness of the air around her. There wasn’t another way to describe it, she thought, just a strange sensation of vast emptiness surrounding her, rendering her infinitely smaller by comparison. 

She was a child now, and she was at a wedding. Or could it have been a funeral? There were flowers everywhere, but dark ones with big thorns and a smell that clung to the back of her throat and watered her eyes. She reached out to touch one and.

--

next chapter

#writeblr #chapter story #horror romance #gothic #lgbt #rappaccini's daughter #my writing

[shelli-gator]

Hi, so I've been reading your many marvelous headcannons lately , and I have a headcannons request. (And yes, as usual with me it is Ted related.) So in my general Ted headcannons ask from awhile ago, you gave a summary of Ted's childhood. I loved your ideas on this, but was wondering if you had extra headcannons specifically about Ted in his childhood and adolescence. I'm not really looking for anything specific, so any ideas you have would be wonderful to hear!

WHDKSHD thank you! I'm really glad you like them! <3 I love sharing headcanons, it's just really fun to build stories around the characters, especially the side ones!

I've been thinking about Ted a fair bit, and I've adjusted some of my prior headcanons so let's start with those!

Edit: rewrote a lot of this to include more specific things Ted did as a teen/kid.

- I mentioned before that Ted's mom is a quiet but caring woman. I want to build on it because I think that her caring for Julien and Maurice as infants and running around after the royal family would have actually left very little time for poor little Ted. She loved him with her whole heart, and doted on him whenever she did get to spend time with him.

- A lot of the time he did get to spend with her was when she got to take him with her to work, and while he liked getting to play with Julien and Maurice, and any of the other little ones that got brought along by their mothers, Ted very early on felt lonely. He felt like he was competing with others for his mother's love and attention, and leads into him wanting to be liked by everyone. He never blamed Julien for it though, he figured that without their parents Julien and Maurice are lonely too.

- His mother working for royalty meant that she made extra sure to teach Ted manners and politeness. But her generally kind and tender nature rubbed off on him for sure, and he takes a lot after her.

- She cooked really well, and would often prepare food for the royals. Ted learnt some of his cooking skills from her as a kid/teen, and learnt more in his free time so he could either cook for her or cook with her to spend more time with her.

- Ted's parents were never affectionate with one another. And in comparison, Ted's marriage to Dorothy has more love in it than what his parents had. His mother was even more timid and soft spoken with his father than with others, harboring a lot of resentment towards him. They strongly disagreed with how Ted should be raised, but she stuck to raising him with kindness and understanding.

- he loves acting, dancing, and performing for a number of reasons. Dancing and acting gives him a chance to express himself and take on different roles outside of what has been assigned to him by himself or others. He gets to be whatever he wants to be, and its fun to be someone else for a change. In a way as well, he loves the spotlight of the stage because it means he gets to be seen and heard.

-He craves the love and approval of others. His fear of being alone forever started at an early age, and resulted in the unhappy marriage he's in today. Julien not listening to him at the prom and taking his prom king crown didn't help that either.

- I originally headcanonned Ted's dad passed away at a young age, but it might have been more in his late teens to enforce the military career.

- Ted's performances extend well beyond the stage. To me, it seems like his whole life is a stage play that he's put himself in. He came up with this story that he tried to make a reality, performing the role of the popular lad who married his long time best friend. Now he cant get out of it, or at least he's stopping himself from doing so, so he takes it out on Dorothy. History repeats itself, especially in our relationships. :( (Ironic then as well that Ted and Dorothy use his parents' wedding rings)

- Ted had lots of toys that his mom would bring for him, often things Julien got bored with. She also made him whatever outfits he wanted, including dresses, but his father almost popped a blood vessel when he saw his son dancing around in a dress. Ted dresses up his toys and uses them as co actors in plays and make believe, and he sometimes teaches them all about being nice to people.

- Ted and Julien both went to music classes together, and while they weren't in the same band, they both play guitar/keytar. His dad taught him a lot of that, and the guitar he has in the show was his.

-Little ted often put on plays for his mom, which he would practice for when he was alone. He sometimes roped the other kids into play acting while their parents worked, and him spending a lot of time with them is how he became as endearingly charismatic as he is, even if awkwardly clumsy. It all made for a very likable lad.

- Before Julien took over and could introduce the kingdom's very own parties, he would often go to parties held outside the kingdom by neighboring kingdom's. (It's a bit confusing because in the first episode its implied they don't really know much about parties, but Julien's flashbacks all point to parties that have happened before). Ted would sneak out to go along with him to these parties, with a few of the other lads in tow. Dorothy wouldn't accompany him, as it was against the rules and she wasn't big into parties.

Ted: *covers bags 'ears'* HORST, not in front of the baby!

- I love to imagine in lemur school they all had to partner up to look after a bag of flour or something as parents. Dorothy wanted to be partnered with Ted, but he ends up with Julien because Julien sees some easy marks. It would be hilarious too as Horst or Pancho.

Horst: I-it's a BAG, Ted! It's LEAKING flour!

Ted: he just needs changing is all! <3

- His grades were really good in school to give his mom one less thing to worry about, and because he was genuinely passionate about the subjects he chose. I used to hc he wasn't super good at biology or maths, but he would at least do well at them, and biology is how he took up interest in other animals like birds.

- As much as he clearly wants it, I don't think he's ever had the opportunity to kiss a boy before.

Anyway, sorry I've been rambling on this for long enough haldhskdh.

These headcanons also feed wonderfully into my Sugarbuns headcanons hehe, y e s.

#asks #ahkj ted #ahkj headcanons #sorry its so long #poor ted ;^; #i imagine little pup ted just watching his mom tending to Julien and he just wants more time to spend with her

[lynelovespopculture]

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA: CHAPTER 16-THE NEW GIRL

 CORDELIA SPELLMAN, NOW 12, FEELS UNEASY AROUND THE NEW GIRL IN HER CLASS…

Cordelia Spellman, smiled at herself in her full-length mirror, as she finished buttoning her blouse and admired her new skirt. Then she sat down at her vanity and picked up her golden chain with a single crescent moon attached. Ever since her parents had given her the necklace as a Yule gift 6 years ago, Cordelia never left the house without her necklace. Whenever she felt anxious or upset, Cordelia would hold the half-moon and pray. Guess being the daughter of a high priestess made you believe a little more. It was a long-standing family joke that if Sabrina’s black headband was her trademark then the necklace was Cordelia’s. After fastening the chain to her neck, Cordelia gathered her school books together and putting them in her backpack when she heard a bird. Turning around, she saw a dove in a tree right outside her bedroom window. A dove that Cordelia knew well.

“Hello, October.” Cordelia greeted the dove before grabbing her backpack and exiting her room. Out in the hallway, Cordelia encountered another animal. A huge brown greyhound lay across the floor, directly in Cordelia’s way. However, this was no mere dog. This was the familiar of Cordelia’s brother, Jake.

“Come on, Apollo, move! You’re in the way!” The dog did move when Cordelia scratched him behind his ear. The dog and the 12-year-old walked through the living room together. As they neared the kitchen, Apollo ran ahead, searching for food and his master. Cordelia stayed behind just long enough to put her book bag down on a hallway bench. Inside the kitchen, Cordelia found the usual suspects: her parents

“Good morning, Mom and Dad.”

Her brother was now feeding Apollo a strip of bacon, and Vinegar Tom, her mother’s dog wasn’t far behind.

“Morning, Jake.”

And her cousin, who unlike her parents and her brother, didn’t live there but worked there and often showed up early enough for breakfast.

“Hey, Ambrose.”

Plus 1 new face around the table.

“Hey, it’s the good doctor.” Cordelia hugged her big sister before sitting down next to her.

“Good morning, Cordy!” LJ smiled. “You don’t seem that surprised to see me here.”

“I’m not,” shrugged Cordelia as she dug into her oatmeal. “Perhaps that’s because I just saw a certain dove perched outside my window not 5 minutes ago.”

“Damn that October! I swear that familiar of mine spoils all my surprises! Anyway, the official reason I’m here is to drop off some medical forums for the boys but I also wanted to check up on you. Are you sure you’re ready for what you need to do today?”

Cordelia couldn’t help but smile. Not only was today the 1st day of school, but it was also Cordelia’s 1st day of 7th grade at Greendale Middle School, the very class that her father taught since she was 4.

Annoyed, Faustus came forward with his cup of coffee. “Hey, you have been teasing your sister all summer about being in my class. I wish you would stop it. I’m a good teacher and you, Cordy, don’t think I’m going to be easy on you because I’m your father.”

Cordelia shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Dad. I going to pass 7th grade with hard work and good grades, the same way I’ll become a top student when I attend the academy.”

Zelda smiled at her daughter. “Now, that’s the right attitude.”

“Butt kisser.” Jake teased his sister good-naturedly.

 10 minutes later, everyone left the kitchen. Ambrose and Jake went to work in other parts of the house, while everyone else was heading out the door. Zelda, to morning assembly at the academy, LJ was heading to the hospital to start her rounds and Faustus started the engine to his white VW bug as Cordelia climbed in beside him.

“So, did you and Mom have the talk today?” she asked her father.

“What talk?” Faustus asked his daughter.

Cordelia shrugged. “The talk, the talk you and Mom have at the start of every school year.  The one where Mom asks you to come to teach at the academy and every year, you turn down Mom’s offer.”

“You know about that?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Everyone in the family knows. What I don’t get is why you keep turning her down. When I was little, you told me that Ambrose is the most powerful warlock in the family but I’ve known for a long time that it’s you. Plus, I heard Uncle C and Aunt Hilda talking about how you used to work there and- “

“Cordy, I don’t feel comfortable talking about this.” Faustus cut in.  “Yes, I used to work at the academy, but that was a long time ago, before the curse.”

“Of course!” His daughter spat. “Whenever I try to bring up anything about your past, all you ever say is it happened before the curse. Never mind that you always say you’ll tell me about this curse someday, but you never have. Dad, I’m 12 now, whatever this curse is, I can handle it.”

Faustus sighed as he pulled into the school parking lot. He couldn’t blame Cordelia for her anger toward him. She was right, of course, he brought up the ‘before the curse’ line a lot but what the child didn’t know was that he tried twice as much to tell his daughter what the curse actually was. Yet, he just couldn’t do it. Even when Zelda was right there beside him to support and help him to explain it all. But 1 look in Cordy’s innocent, trusting eyes, and Faustus chickened out every time. You’re weak, boy, you’ve always been weak. His father’s words were never far in Faustus’s mind. No words could be enough to express how thankful and grateful he was to the Spellmans for their unending understanding and support of him for the last 13 years. However, no matter how loved, safe, and secure his family would make him feel, something always happened, a memory, a nightmare, (last week’s was a real doozy) to trigger his never-ending guilt yet again. That’s why he declined Zelda’s yearly offer to return to teaching at the academy.  It was no longer a school to him, just a scene of his crimes. He felt the same way about the church, though he found it easier to avoid the school. When he did go to mass, he sat in the very last pew, even if as the spouse of the high priestess, it was his right to sit upfront with the rest of his family. He liked to get in and out, to see as less of the coven as possible. Even if the coven and the family’s forgiveness had lasted for 13 years, Faustus still lived his life as if that forgiveness could be revoked at any moment. This is why he couldn’t tell the youngest Spellman that it was only because of her mother that he wasn’t trapped forever inside a wicked, murdering husk. Sometimes it felt like Cordelia was the only 1 left in the world who didn’t know of his crimes and, selfish or not, he liked it that way.

“No, your mother and I didn’t have ‘that talk’ today, we had it yesterday.” There, it was all Faustus was willing to say on the subject. Faustus parked the car and pointed. “There are your friends.”

Thankfully, the sight of her best friends, blond triplets Emily, Erin, and Erica Warner, was enough to distract Cordelia from their current conversation.

“Thanks, Dad,” Cordelia pecked her father’s cheek, left the car, and made a beeline for her friends. “Hi, guys!”

“Hey, Cordy,” Said Emily.

“Hi, Cordelia” Replied Erica.

Erin just waved.

Cordelia frowned. “What’s wrong with you 3? You all look like you didn’t sleep a wink all night long.”

“We didn’t,” mumbled Erin.

“How could we when Mom and Dad had another all-night screaming match.” Emily agreed with her sister.

“Again?!” Cordelia frowned, the triplets confided in her that their parents were having marriage problems for quite some time.

“Hey there, girls!” came a voice from behind.

“Sara!”  All 3 Warner girls cried and turned to embrace the girl coming towards them.

Cordelia wasn’t sure what disturbed her more.  The fact that she had never seen this new girl a day in her life or that she got a warmer welcome from her besties than she did. However, Cordelia easily dismissed the thought when Erin turned back to her.

“Cord, this is Sara Reed. She just moved 3 doors down from us about 2 weeks ago. Sara, this is Cordelia Spellman, she’s been our best friend since, like, ever.”

“So, I’m finally meeting the famous Cordelia Spellman.”

“Well, I don’t know about famous,” Cordelia smiled.

The bell rang so the girls headed inside the school.

“Are you kidding?” Sara told Cordelia, “the triplets talk about you all the time. To hear them tell it, your family owns the town.”

“Hardy,” Cordelia giggled. “Truthfully, they only own 2 businesses, but they are all over town. Let’s see, my uncle owns Dr. Cerberus’s books and spirits and he runs it with my aunt Hilda.  She herself co-owns the Spellman Sisters mortuary with my mother but Mom teaches high school with my oldest sister, Prudence. So the mortuary’s day to day business is run by Ambrose, my cousin, and my brother Jake. Not too far from Uncle C’s shop, is the new office of my other cousin, Sabrina, who’s a therapist. LJ, my other sister, is a doctor.”

“What about your father?” Sara asked.

“Oh, Dad’s right here,” Cordelia answered. “Dad has been teaching 7th grade at this school since I was 4.”

“Which means that Mr. Spellman is our teacher this year.” Erin pointed out.

This made Sara confused. “Wait, I thought you guys were going into 8th grade?”

Emily shook her head. “Nope,7th.”

“I’m going into 8th.” Sara declared.

“I thought she was 12, like us,” Cordelia whispered to Erica.

“She is, but Sara is so cool, I’m not surprised she skipped a grade.”

“Oh yeah,” Cordelia smiled. “What makes her so cool?”

“She’s a Wiccan.”

Her friends didn’t notice when Cordelia froze and her smile disappeared.

 Nina Robinson was the school’s new 8th-grade teacher and she was not at all happy to be there. Some teachers’ passion was children, but Nina’s true passion was men. That was got her in her current troubles. If her boyfriend-correction, ex-boyfriend, had simply told his wife about them, he probably could have avoided a political scandal.  Yet here Nina was, in a backward hic town instead of her beloved New York.

How am I going to find Mr. tall, dark and handsome here in the middle of Nowhere, USA? Nina thought to herself just before Mr. tall, dark, and handsome walked by.

Luckily, Nina was standing right next to Theo Putnam, the vice-principal of the school.  “Um, Mr. Putnam? Who is that?” Nina asked, pointing.

“Oh, that’s Faustus Spellman, he’s been teaching 7th grade here for 8 years. His niece, Sabrina, is a childhood friend of mine.”

Nina could care less about childhood friends as she checked out this Faustus guy and she liked what she saw. Most women would back off when they saw Faustus’s wedding ring, but not Nina. She liked a challenge.

  “So, how are you today, Mr. Wilson?” LJ smiled at her favorite patient.

“Much better now that you’re here.”  Mr. Wilson took LJ’s hand and kissed it.

“Well, I’m certainly glad that those 3 surgeries didn’t rob you of your charm.”

LJ turned as the door opened and there was a man LJ didn’t know. “Excuse me, Mr. Wilson? I was sent here to check your I.V. and do some bloodwood.”

“Well, do it, then. Can’t you see I’m trying to flirt here?”

LJ chuckled as she moved to allow the stranger room to work. LJ also check the chart at the end of Mr. Wilson’s bed. “Everything looks good here. I’ll check back on you this afternoon.”

LJ and the man left the hospital room together. “I’m sorry, but have we met?” LJ asked the man out in the hallway. “It’s just that I’ve worked here for the last 5 years and I can’t place you.”

The man smiled. “Nor should you. I’m part of a group of interns that just transferred here from Moon Valley.”

“Oh, okay. Well, welcome to Greendale Memorial Hospital. How are you liking it so far?”

“I like it very much. I mean, the people are great. There’s only 1 thing I’m nervous about.  My pals keep telling me how tough our supervisor is. I haven’t met him yet; some guys say that our new supervisor is some hard ass resident named Dr. Spellman. Oh, where are my manners?” I’m Peter, Peter Watson.”

“LJ. LJ Spellman.”

Peter stopped walking. “You’re kidding, right.”

LJ kept smiling as she shook her head. “Afraid not.”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“After I get my foot out of my big mouth, how about I apologize properly by buying you a drink after work?”

LJ’s smile got bigger. “I would like that.”

 Over the years, some found it odd, that everyone at Greendale middle school, both staff and students alike, all had their lunch break at noon sharp. Yet today, it was a blessing. For at 10 after 12, a fire broke out in the southeast end of the school. Far away from the cafeteria and the teacher’s lounge. By 12:30, all the fire alarms were screaming at full force and the firetrucks were arriving just as the yard was filling with people. By 1 pm, the principal and vice-principal were busy calling parents to tell them not only about the fire but also the happy news that no one was hurt. To give the school a chance to air out all that extra smoke, afternoon classes were held outside, made possible by the nice weather. Although the flames were brief, it did ruin 2 rooms. The library and the 8th-grade classroom were burnt and would be unusable for months. By 3, it was safe to come back inside. By 3:30, the school was over and Cordelia was putting some books in her locker before heading into the girls’ bathroom. Cordelia pushed open the door and froze. There, among a dozen lit candles, were her 3 best friends and the new girl, Sara, all hovering over an Ouija board.

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caoz #chapter 16 #fanfic #zelda spellman and faustus blackwood #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #hilda spellman #ambrose spellman #sabrina spellman #cordelia spellman #lj spellman #Jake spellman #please comment #please reblog #yes i know i've already posted a link to a03 but i've always posted on here too so...

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Morals And Manners: Studying and Learning (Part 2)

TEACHER–STUDENT RELATIONS

Ali ibn Abu Talib said, “I would be the slave of anyone who teaches me one letter.” This saying expresses the great respect that is due to teachers. Throughout Islamic history, educational institutions have always remained free of association with governmental or political institutions, avoiding partiality in political debates, and thereby pro- tecting the dignity of knowledge, even when scholars were threat- ened with the worst kind of persecution. Teachers did not discrimi- nate between students according to race, class, or socioeconomic background, and tried their best to help all develop into good citi- zens. The Ottoman rulers did not deviate from this tradition and maintained respect for teachers. There is a famous story about Sultan Selim I, the ninth Ottoman sultan, and his teacher Ibn Kemal. When they were returning from victory at the Battle of Mercidabik in 1516 the teacher was traveling in front of the Sultan, and his horse splashed mud on the Sultan’s robes. The Sultan smiled and, saying that the mud was an ornament to his robes, ordered that they be saved—unwashed—and used to cover his coffin.

PROPER ATTITUDE TOWARDS SCHOLARS

Traditionally, out of respect, we avoid calling our parents by their first names; this kind of respect is also due to scholars as well.

Adab demands such respect to scholars, because it is they who are the heirs to the Prophets. Children should learn from our example to honor and esteem scholars, never to act in an improper or un- seemly manner in their presence, and to speak softly when they are in the room. At all times, scholars should be treated with courtesy and politeness.

Yahya ibn Muadh spoke of the value of scholars thus: “Scholars are more merciful to the family of believers than mothers and fa- thers are to their children.” When he was asked why he said this, he answered, “Mothers and fathers save their children from the physi- cal fire in this world, but scholars save them from the eternal fire in the Hereafter.”17 This is one of the reasons why scholars deserve re- spect from us.

A Prophetic saying, related by Ubada ibn al-Samit, states, “One who does not respect their elders, one who does not show sympa- thy and compassion for children, and one who does not know the value of scholars is not of us.”18 In another hadith the Prophet said, “A person who acquires knowledge merely so that they will be praised in front of scholars, or to argue with the ignorant, or to win the admiration of people is bound for Hell.”19

As for the proper behavior for children toward scholars, Ibn Abbas related an experience he had as a child with one of the Companions: “When God’s Messenger passed away, I asked a man from the Ansar, ‘Come, I want to go and learn from the Companions of the Prophet because there are many here now.’ The man replied, ‘I am surprised at you, Ibn Abbas! Do you imagine that anyone will be in need of you (i.e. your knowledge) while the Companions of God’s Messenger are still among us?’ Then he left. I went to the Companions alone and asked them some questions. When I learned that a particular hadith had been related by someone, I would go to that person’s house. If he were sleeping, I would use my cloak as a pillow and lie down in front of his door to wait; the wind would blow dust over me (while waiting there in patience). The man would come out and he would see me, usually addressing me, ‘O cousin of the Prophet! What is wrong, why are you lying here? If you had sent word to me, I would have come to you!’ (And in return) I would answer, ‘No, it is more appropriate that I come to you.’ I would then ask this Companion about the hadith. Later, one day when I was sur- rounded by people (and teaching them what I had learned), that same man from the Ansar came and saw that I was being asked questions. He said, ‘This youth is more intelligent than I.’”20

The following example is another good example of the prop- er behavior of the children of the Companions towards the schol- ars: Said ibn al-Musayyab used to pray two rakats of prayer and then sit down. The children of the Companions would gather around him, but no one would say anything or ask any questions until after he had recited a hadith for them. Then they would ask him questions.21

Hasan al-Basri likewise warned his son to practice adab with scholars, reminding him, “My child! When you sit with scholars, listen more than you speak. Just as you have learned to speak well, now learn to listen well. Until the scholar stops speaking—no mat- ter how long he may speak—do not interrupt him!”

TEACHER ETIQUETTE

Just as the adab of teaching and learning applies to students of all kinds of knowledge, not only religious knowledge, all teachers, no matter what their subject, should practice adab in their duties. The following are some guidelines for teachers:

A teacher should be up to date on the latest information and developments in their field and always come to class well prepared.

A teacher should explain the topic at a level the students will understand, thus not destroying their motivation by making them feel it is too difficult.

A teacher should live an exemplary life which inspires re- spect in terms of their behavior, words, lifestyle, and mor- als. “Respect cannot be forced, it can only be given.” Teachers who constantly scold their students, demand re- spect from them, and try to force it instead of inspiring it are not only the least beloved teachers, they are also the least effective.

A teacher should always strive to love teaching and to com- municate their knowledge in the best way possible.

A teacher should approach students with the same compas- sion as a parent, not indulging hard workers, or belittling or putting down lazy students.

Students’ faults should not be pointed out and listed in front of their friends in order to humiliate them; teaching requires tolerance and a forgiving nature.

When necessary, a teacher should listen to students to share their problems, give them support, and assist them. At the same time, they should be careful not to become so famil- iar and casual with the students that they lower the digni- ty of the pursuit of knowledge.

Grades should not be held over students’ heads as a threat and a teacher must be impartial in assigning grades.

Teachers must avoid accepting expensive gifts, lavish dinner parties, or other such offers made by the families of stu- dents to safeguard the honor and integrity of their office.

STUDENT ETIQUETTE

Clear, concise rules are required for a child’s moral education, character and values to develop properly and to ensure academic success. If this foundation is laid both at home and in the student– teacher relationship, the classroom environment becomes more en- joyable and positive. For this reason the most essential rules will be listed here:

Honesty: This is one of the most basic and critical corner- stones of communal life at any level. Lying, cheating, copying the work of others, stealing, or using things with- out permission must not be tolerated at school; indeed, they are unacceptable in every segment of society.

Courtesy: This is the outer expression of basic respect for oneself and others. Therefore, students must be held re- sponsible for their choice of words or the tone of their voice. The same polite behavior and courtesy that they owe to their elders they also owe to their peers; that is, students need to be courteous to one another.

Social relationships: Students need to be taught to avoid insulting or using vulgar terms of address or styles of com- munication with one another. They must not forget that it is bad behavior to belittle, ridicule, or taunt other stu- dents, or to form cliques. Students should be admonished and warned about such behavior on a regular basis so they will take it seriously, thus learning to be careful about how they joke or tease others.

Personal care: This is an important mark of a person with excellent character. Children must learn to pay attention to personal cleanliness and bathe daily. As they grow, physical cleanliness becomes more and more important, and they should be aware of this. Hygiene is the most ef- fective way to stay healthy and avoid contagious illnesses (which are often rife in school environments). So students should remember to wash their hands with soap before and after meals and before and after using the restroom.

#allah #god #islam #muslim #quran #revert #convert #convert islam #revert islam #reverthelp #revert help #revert help team #help #islamhelp #converthelp #prayer #salah #muslimah #reminder #pray #dua #hijab #religion #mohammad #new muslim #new revert #new convert #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

[purplesurveys]

1011

1. Five facts about your current relationship OR five facts about your single life.

a) I haven’t been truly single in...around 6 years, so it’s been a bit of an adjustment.

b) It was my last day as an intern yesterday (but they hired me, so I’m staying after all, haha) and since I’ve felt like I gained a family in the last two months, I thought it would be okay to give professionalism a break and share what had actually been going on with me on my first day on the job, aka when the breakup was still fresh and I was still figuring out how to function all over again. It unsurprisingly surprised everyone and my superior said something like, “Omg it’s the [company name] curse; it’s so strong it broke you guys up before you even got hired” which got a laugh out of me.

c) I’m not interested in seeing other people.

d) Probably wouldn’t be, for a long time. My trust has been irreparably broken.

e) Seeing couples in public has now become annoying. I’m happy for them, but it’s still annoying.

2. Five facts about a past relationship.

a) I’ve known her since kindergarten, but we didn’t become friends till 7th grade and didn’t start dating until junior year of high school.

b) We were legal with her family and her parents loved me and I them. On the other hand, I was never able to come out to my family because she broke up with me before I could be able to do so.

c) She introduced me to vaping.

d) We were never able to truly travel together, which we always planned to do after graduating. The farthest we reached was Batangas.

e) She never knew where she wanted to eat whenever we were out, so I was mostly the one who decided which restaurant we were going to have lunch or dinner in.

3. Five facts about your mother.

a) She has always worked in hotels, which is great because it has always allowed us to get room and buffet discounts, heh.

b) Her family (aka my grandparents, her, and my uncles) struggled financially for a little bit when my grandpa lost his job when she was in college. When her friends would go to fast-food restaurants, my mom would always decline, saying she had schoolwork to finish. In reality she just couldn’t afford anything, and the only money she held was for public transport.

c) She is a little childish considering her age, and I cannot stand her petty tantrums. She was childish even when I was a kid, and I believe my emotional well-being suffered because of that.

d) She has a high pain tolerance and the only time I’ve seen her struggle was when she was getting a tattoo on the back of her shoulder.

e) She is also extremely religious and it especially grinds my gears when she gets hypocritical about it, which is just about all the time.

4. Five facts about your father.

a) He has only ever dated my mom.

b) He grew up extremely poor and at some point his parents actually stopped being able to afford his tuition. Instead of being kicked out, a few nuns who served in the school paid my grandparents a visit and told them my dad would be given a scholarship since he had good grades and it would have been a waste if he got expelled.

c) He was a dancer in high school, knows how to play the guitar, and he also apparently knows how to draw very well. There’s a lot I don’t know about him, considering he has worked abroad my whole life.

d) He breaks or loses his reading glasses once every few months. I know which parent I definitely take after.

e) I have never seen him cry.

5. Five facts about your sibling. If you have more than one, pick one. Or do them all!

a) She had problems crying in school until she was in around 2nd or 3rd grade.

b) She’s in college and is currently taking up digital filmmaking.

c) She’s the biggest introvert I know. I’ve never seen her be willing to do anything silly; not even with her friends.

d) She can’t handle spicy food.

e) Her main interests have shifted from Harry Potter, to One Direction, to 5SOS, and now K-pop. I believe she’s into Seventeen the most.

6. Five facts about your town.

a) The upper part of the city offers amazing views of the Metro Manila skyline, which has recently made the place a kinda popular nightlife destination.

b) There’s a lot of hidden gem restaurants here but because most people spend more time complaining about how far my city is and how difficult it is to get to than actually just making the damn ride over here, the restaurants stay hidden and uncrowded. Their loss.

c) Used to be massively underdeveloped for most of my childhood and teenage years. Now there are several malls and I can easily go to a McDonald’s, Burger King, and Starbucks right outside our village.

d) Because you basically have to drive through a mountain to get to the upper part of the city, it’s not the safest highway and fatal crashes are unfortunately common.

e) The city is known for its suman, except I hate Filipino rice cakes and this actually doesn’t do anything for me.

7. Five facts about your house.

a)  It used to have a balcony until we had that transformed into another bedroom. So technically it is still a balcony; it just hasn’t had that purpose for a while now.

b) My mom used a little cheat in our dining room and installed a huge wall mirror. Most people visiting for the first time always note how much larger it made the room (and thus the house) look.

c) I live in a neighborhood where the houses are of the same model and look (think the Squidville episode from Spongebob). That said, balconies are included in all properties. When my parents decided to renovate ours and turn it into a room, so many houses slowly followed suit as well. It was amusing to see it unfold, knowing the idea undoubtedly originated from us. It was like a revolution.

d) We don’t have a gate, which irritates me to no end because it allows noisy neighborhood kids to just march and run around our property. Sometimes they even make it to our carport and backyard, ugh. :(

e) Speaking of backyard, the landscaping for it used to be a pebble mosaic designed to look like a swan. But over the years the quality deteriorated, so my parents to opted to have the pebbles crushed into tiny rocks and embedded onto the ground. I don’t exactly know what this technique is called, but yeah.

8. Five facts about your niece or nephew. If you have more than one, pick one. Or do them all! Skip if you don’t have one. I don’t have any, but I do have a godson so I’m going with him as I don’t want to leave any section blank.

a) He was born sometime in December. I honestly don’t remember when, loooooool. Worst godmother ever.

b) He’s actually one of my first cousins, but I guess my aunt saw something in me and wanted me to be his godson. I’ve been a terrible one, though; I’ve never bought him gifts or money or anything – to be fair, I was made a ninang when I was like, 14 or 15 lmao.  But I can definitely make up for it now that I’m starting to earn my own money.

c) He’s the calmer, sweeter version of his older brother. His kuya was a pretty naughty kid when he was his age.

d) He mainly speaks English, as how most younger parents raise their kids these days. He understands Filipino of course, but he mostly communicates in English.

e) The last time I saw him, he was in the middle of a ridiculously adorable interviewing phase where he’d approach anyone in the family and start asking them a series of questions: what’s your favorite color? What food can’t you live without? What’s your favorite subject in school? Would you rather win $1 million dollars or know how to fly? It typically got exhausting after the 25th question, but it was so cute nonetheless. None of us have any idea where it came from.

9. Five facts about your education.

a) I went to a private, all-girls, Catholic school from kinder up to high school, and then moved to a public, co-educational, non-sectarian university for college. It was the very epitome of culture shock, lemme tell ya.

b) Some classes I had in my first school that might be uncommon in others have included penmanship (because my school has its own brand of cursive), environmental education, and I don’t remember what this next class was called anymore but we were basically taught how to write professionally? Like how to write cover letters and resumés and all.

c) My first school is extremely homophobic and went so far as to ‘hire’ spies  tasked to check up on who’s been in same-sex relationships, list them all down, and report them to the guidance office so that they can be called one by one and be interrogated, and for the most part, pressured to come out. I don’t know if they still do this, but the younger batches are definitely more vocal and woke now thanks to social media and I doubt those practices would still fly today.

d) My university education was a breath of fresh air. Suddenly people were wearing sleeveless tops, mobs and rallies were a common sight to me, and my instructors were now atheist and not shoving Catholicism and Jesus and salvation down my throat. I loved every single day of it.

e) The most interesting class I took in college was a course called Pornography in Electronic Media, under the broadcast communication department. Getting to tell people I take a class where we sit down to watch porn was such a fucking ride.

10. Five facts about your job.

a) I got hired last Wednesday, but I had been interning for the company for around two months before they extended the offer.

b) I’m pretty much gonna be doing the same things I did as an intern, except I’m now accountable for any boo-boos I make HAHAHAHA. Also, I’m gonna be paid a lot more, obviously, which is sweet. I really thought we interns were severely underpaid considering the work that we help with on a daily basis.

c) My role is going to be with another department which is a little scary because it means the things I learned with the department I actually interned at will be pretty much useless. I’ll be starting from scratch again, but I’m still excited.

d) It’s a work-from-home situation, which is a relief for me because I don’t have to wake up early and I don’t have to face traffic. 

e) My job interview for the position was actually a bit of a bomb because I absolutely fumbled with and messed up the first question I was asked; and since first impressions matter, I really thought I lost the gig from the very start of the interview. I made up for it as the interview continued and fortunately was able to break the ice and build a rapport with the team members who spoke with me, and I guess I did enough for them to want to take me in anyway.

For those who are curious, I blanked the fuck out when they asked “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t in your resumé.” Slowest 15 seconds of my life.

#survey #surveys

[marloblogs]

BLOG POST 1

Hi everyone my name is Marlo.

Im 16 years old and, I'm studying at Saint Paul University Tuguegarao City Grade 11 humms is my strand. Because my first choice is become a police officer someday and my second choice become nurse to help the society are people.

I was born on Saint Paul Hospital Tuguegarao City. For me i called myself a miracle person because when i was still the one of my mom he told me that i excited to go out to see the world.but it was seven months back there but the normal give up work is nine month so i called myself a miracle not a special. When i came out of my mother womb i almost died. Because after he gave up birth of me i stayed in the incubator for 1 month but i'm lucky person in that time for almost 1 month i survived my life. After i discharged from the hospital we need to go to the doctor to test and monitor everything up there something change of my condition every week. Because of the sacrifice of my mom and dad is not measurable for they what they doing to me to live the time.

In my life i had some up and downs i had experienced this when i'm in school but it's rather good now. In elementary age i will train myself to be a good at any aspects like sports and academics everything else.example of this sport is lawn tennis i got interested to it because my mothers quotes that time in a long tennis club.because of the sport he build my socialization to other people and build my confidence every time there's a contest in that sport.

Because of that sport i go to the provincial meet and travel of the places of tuguegarao city to contest in it.that's why i got a lot of socialization and experience to.when i'm in the junior high school write a level up challenge to become because there are many trials that you will through it like there's many student transfer of any school and you need to socialize with them to become friend of yours.life in the junior high school is a challenge able but there's more experience and learning of what are you doing to it.

After i finished junior high school journey there's something happen to the world that hindi inaasahan covid-19 pandemic many people affected at and the summer high had the most learning vacation ever not to me but for everyone. because of the covid-19 pandemic i spent more time to my family to friend and etc. i spent more time to learn in the farm like planting different fruits trees and how to care any kind of animal like the chicken and Ducks and mostly goat. Because of that summer i had i learned how how to be a respectful useful and meaningful life. And the last I learned is to that's our vacation is to be a healthy and clean myself any time or anywhere what i go and doing. And now at this days i studied at saint paul university tuguegarao city in online class.

GUIDE QUESTIONS.

1: what do you see yourself 10 years from now? Is my leading in SPUP vital where I’m leading to?

I can see myself 10 years from now is a successful officer or nurse. Yes, my learning in SPUP is vital to what I’m leading to because this university provide high quality education.

2. Was Humms the best choice after all?

Yes. Because I want to become a police officer someday.

3. What course will you take in college and why?

I’m planning to take criminology because I want to protect you didn't my prevent crime in our society country or nursing because i want to take care my family when they have a sick.

4 what topic would you like to learn more in this subject?

The topic that i want to learn in this subject is all about technology. Because we are in the modern world or technology world so I want to learn this topic because it’s helped me to communicate together in the modern world and advance knowledge of it.

5. What the coronavirus has taught you about life?

The coronavirus taught me about life is to always clean myself not only today but anytime. the challenge is to sustain because I learned how to plant different kind of vegetable fruits and planting flowers. I also learn how to take care animals like chicken ducks goes and goes. And closer to god anytime what I’m doing over to go I pray. It also taught me coronavirus pandemic is to be a healthy.

BLOG # 2

Cellphone or phone.

Based of my opinion and research.

Cellphone or Phone is a directly screen or a portable telephone that entry or access to the cellular radio system that can make and collect call above the a radio frequency. A basic primary mobile phone is therefore tiny more than a merge of radio transmitter and radio receiver. Cellphone or phone help us to communicate our love ones to distant place over the world anytime anywhere 😍❤️. Cellphone can affect our brain activity, reaction times, and sleep patterns, and it caused brain cancer if we over used it.

BLOG # 3-5

Movie# 3

“The princess and the frog”

Once upon a time, there lived a king who had seven beautiful daughters. But all of his daughters, the youngest was the most beautiful. This princess had one favorite among all her toys. It was a golden ball. He spent many hours throwing it into the air and catching it. On a hot day it was pleasant to rest under the cool shade of three, by the pool.

The princess of then went there to play by yourself. The youngest princess used to run about on the grass near the pool throwing up a golden ball and catching meet one day however when the princess threw her ball it did not fall into her outstretched hands. It fell onto the grass and bounced into the deep pool with a loud splash.

The princess could not bear think that she had really lost her beautiful, golden ball. She began to cry he began to cry. And marshy thought about the loss of her favorite toy ,the louder she cry. The princess wept, she heard a voice saying , young princess? What is wrong. “Do not cry ,” said the frog . “I can help you to get your ball. But what will you give me if find it for you?”

“I will give you anything you wish for,” replied the princess. “you can have my clothes or my cue wells or even my golden crown if only you will find my golden ball.”

I do not want your clothes your juice when you're golden crown” replied the frog. I should like it i love me I want you to let me be your friend and play with you I want to sit beside you at the table with chair golden plate and drink from your golden cup I want to sleep in your bed beside your.” the princess thought that frog was talking nonsense. Also she wanted her golden ball very much. So she said, “yes i will promise all that you ask if you only you will find my golden ball for me. At this words the frog dive into the pool .the frog dive deep into the pool and sun came summing up again the golden ball in his mouth he threw the ball into the grass. The princess was so happy to see your favorite play thing once again. She pick it up and laugh with delight as he threw into the air and caught it again and again.

The next day the young princess was sitting at dinner with the king, his countries in the other princesses. I see it from her little golden play the frog found his way into the great hall of the castle. He jumped from step to step up the marble staircase. when the frog got to the top he knock on the door of the dining room the “youngest princess open the door for me!” he cried. when the frog was on the table he said to the princess please push your little golden plate nearer to me. Then we can eat together from the same plate”

When he had finished eating, the frog turned to the princess and send now i am tired please take me to your room and we will lie on your little silken bed to go to sleep. She put him in a corner of the room as far as possible from the bed. Then she got into her silken bed and turned her back on him. Once more the frog spoke up. “I too am tired” he said “ I want to sleep beside you on your silken sheets. Please lift me up. the princess knew he had no choice for her father one dean says that she kept her promise so with tears running down her face she pick up the frog climb back into bed and put him on a silk and pillow beside her. No sooner had she danced so than the frog turned to handsome prince and kind face and she smiled gently and the startled princess. never installed a princess how we adopt and watch her playing with her golden ball in the forest and how he had fallen in love with her so I has the princess to marry her and the princess look into it kind face and agreed to do as asked. So the prince and the princess were married and they lived happily ever after.

Guide Questions:

1.What are the lesson can be learned from the movie?

Don’t judge the book by its cover.

2. What part of the movie was the most powerful? Why?

The most powerful part of the movie is Princess accepted with his heart the frog Prince no matter what he look like. Because Princess see how the frog appreciate the hard work of Frog Prince to go back to itself again.

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie?

The Frog or the Prince, Because he never give up to reach her dreams that go back to human. And patiently.

4. Did anything that happen in the movie remind you for something that has occurred in your own life of that you have seen occur to others?

Yes, Me when I’m in the junior high when grade 7,8,9, I got no awards so I study hard and then I reach the with honors in grade 10.

Movie # 4

“A Boy”

A boy named Prince lived a poor family together with his mother. The mother of Prince was old and she has a sick. And her father died in accident. Every day Prince was wake up early to delivered a newspaper before going to school.

He arrived to her class was late every day so he punished her by run ten rounds to a open court. After finished her punishment he will came to class and sit in her sit while he listen to her teacher one of her classmates. Prince was always bullied because of late. That day while the teacher discuss or teach their lesson Prince was sleep because of the tired in delivered a news paper and run ten times.

When he wake up the class he was shock because the class is finished so he pick her things. While walking he saw the poster of their school that running contest 500 meters and he picked the form to apply to be a contestant he went to their home. While walking in the street prince was saw of her classmates always bully her and Prince was bullied by they grab the form and they throwing each other. Prince was challenge her classmate always bully her to race.

While they running Prince was fell down to the ground and he lost. After that contest with her classmate key West decided to go home where you walking he saw a shop of shoes he asked the owner of how much of the shoes “RM30” the owner said. And Prince was said “I don't have any money” and he leave. When Prince at their home her mother saw her wound in her feet and they treatment her wound.

After given relief here wound Prince was find job to buy the shoes he want and then he saw the shop that their wanted a job. And Prince was started to her job.

While mother of prince teach her ,told to prince to study hard because education is the give to her, prince show the form of competing to the contest of their school. And her mother agreed of competition. But he deal to Prince that study well. When Prince was obtained her first salary he buy the shoes that he want.

When Prince walking in the street. Her classmates always bullied her they followed Prince and they grab the shoes that he buy and passing and passing each other until they accidentally fell onto the river. After they drop the shoes of Prince in the river they leave.

Prince was going to her home crying when he come to their home he stop at the front of her door and cry. Then her mother see Prince cry and comfort it and he asked , What happen? My new shoes was lost Prince said and cried . “Don’t cry “ Prince mom said, come let’s eat.

While eating her .other give the old shoes to Prince that he sewing. But Prince was throw in to the edge and said “ Mom you don’t understand I want a pair of sport shoes not a broken shoe’s don’t know why I born in this poor family” Prince said and run go to her bed and cry. When both cry at her bed his mother come and give the pair of shoes of his father that suitable to his foot and tell to Prince that “ When your father died in an accident he left nothing but the pair of sport shoes and sorry because you are born in the poor family. After Prince realized that the shoes that he give to him is the hard work of his mother to sewing it and he had sick after all. After heard and realized Prince was go to his mother and hug his mother. And then the competition has come when Prince walk through to the competition he was saw the classmates that always bullied her they said Prince have no match to there and they push Prince and he fell down. Before the match start her mother do to school to support her and motivate Prince before start to compete. And the competition start Prince was at the last but he keep it up running until he was the first in line but Prince push while running and he fell down and he was the last again but he never give up Prince was stand and continue to run until he finished the race and he win at the first place.

GUIDE QUESTIONS

1. What life lesson can be learned from the movie?

We need to suffer of want we want or we need to hardworking to achieve the things that we want.

2. What part of the movie was the most powerful? Why?

The most powerful this story this story is do not give up stand up of what you want to achieve. Because if we give up to our dreams you will not achieve the things that you want.

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie? Why?

My favorite character in the movie is Prince because he born on a poor family so he will work hard to achieve her dreams and things you want he was hurting and humble.

4. Did anything that happen is the movie remind you of something that has occurred in your life of that you have seen occur each other?

Yes, My classmate on Junior high he will find job on weekend so that he will go to school on his school days.

Movie # 5

“GITARA”

It is a story is a boy live in a poor her mother is a farmer and her father was stoke. One day while boy and her cousin Edgar work there’s a letter that they change of life of boy the brother of her cousin Edgar from Manila. That telling they got work to Manila.

Boy and her cousin Edgar hurry to pack their things. After leaving his family in the province he was said goodbye to go to Manila. After two years staying in the Manila boy and Edgar was seller of slippers ,shoes, sandals etc. One day while they selling of their products Boy was see a beautiful girl named Flor that throbbing her heart.

When Flor and his friend go home Boy said can I joined you? Flor said sure why not. While walking Boy directly said “ pwede bang manligaw”. Flor was not answer it so in the next day while boy playing his guitar in the under the tree. Flor asked for water and snacks . So Boy immediately buy some snacks after boy give the things that he buy Flor and his friend was said they go to the CR. But after two hours he saw Flor in the car that the owner is the boyfriend of Flor. They stop at front of Boy and said “Boy in very sorry” Boy replied “ But Flor I waiting for two hours here.” I’m very sorry boy and they leave.

One day Boy went to the “Smart Padala” to send money to her family.

After Boy sent money to his family. Boy so flor he accompanied and they walk together. While walking Flor ask boy “why you always bring your guitar” boy said this guitar is my father gift to me before she stroke I came alone to manila because I want to give more money to my family in the province so they buy the medicine of my father.

One night flor see her boyfriend got a new girl with her and they ride with his car. So flor come to the girl and he slap at the face and tell his boyfriend that they broke up. and floor was cry and cry at the wall and said to his friend everything. That night boy and his cousin edgar walking they saw floor and they approached her to tell what happened. But flor get angry too boy and said just leave me alone, if I had a problem it’s none of your business just leave me alone. You're not awkward to your self boy? Flor said to him. Your smell like market and dirty. Just leave me alone. One day flor realize that he did the boy is isn't the good thing. Because boy was a good person and responsible to him. After a week flor want to see boy to say sorry but he never see him. While flor and his friend walking day saw look alike of boy but is not. And that they saw boy was change in to handsome and how it looks rich wear.

And then flor came to boy and asked for forgiveness of what she said to boy that night he saw her boyfriend with girl. And boy forgive flor and they close to each other like a lover . After how many days they out and play. But one is day there are letter that receive from his family in the province that said his father died. Boy was shock and cry and sad so he came to flor to tell about her father died . But his heart was more crushed when he heard to flor that she was playing boy emotion. When boy heard that he was immediately leave and pack her things to came in his family. After how many when her father of boy buried. Boy was felt something in his body. And one day when the mother of boy see him shock because boy was fall to the ground. When boy presented to the doctor they boy have a mental problem because when boy and Edgar came to Manila boy was hit by a hit and run car. And add the depression of his father died and flor playing his heart.

While Flor thinking of boy that he never see a week he curious so he asked the cousin of boy. If we’re he was on the province so cousin of boy gave their address so he came there .When Flor was there he was surprise at he was saw because boy boy is became crazy so flor decided that stay so she was take care of boy . After how many days boy was survived the depression that cause of craziness or cured and that day Flor and Boy was became a lover.

GUIDE QUESTIONS

1. What life lesson can be learned from the movie?

The lesson that can be learned in this movie was be forgive each other and do not take revenge.

2. What part of the movie was the most powerful? Why?

The most powerful part in this movie is boy forgive and accept flor many times. Because he did not want flor leave him.

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie? Why?

My favorite character is boy because he has hardworking, forgiving, and loving to her family.

4. Did anything that happen is the movie remind you of something that has occurred in your life of that you have seen occur each other?

No. But my cousin is a forgiving her girlfriend has always cheat my cousin and anytime back to my cousin to get back together. So they are now strong relationship.

[wroxie-blog]

☄ HOMENUM REVELIO ╱ is that ROXANNE WEASLEY? the HOGWARTS alumni is the TWENTY FIVE year old child of GEORGE WEASLEY AND ANGELINA JOHNSON. with the rumours of political unrest, it’s not surprising that the ministry is keeping a close eye on everyone, but especially the QUIDDITCH PLAYER, considering that they are known to be quite OBSTINATE. but if you ask their friends, you might hear that they have an EMPATHETIC side to them. according to our records they identify as CIS FEMALE (SHE/HER), they HAVE NOT lost their magic. ╲ SARI, 23, UTC-3, LOGAN BROWNING, SHE/HER.

BASICS

name.    roxanne weasley 

nickname (s).    roxie, rox

birthday.    july 20th

zodiac sign.    gemini

sexuality.    bisexual

height.    5′4

eye color.    blue

hair color.    dark brown

piercings and/or tattoos.    a septum 

HISTORY AND HEADCANONS

ROXANNE WEASLEY USED TO BE A RAVENCLAW.   her years at school are some of the fondest memories she has.   from a young age she showed incredible promise in the academics ,   actively seeking for sources of knowledge.   she enjoyed discovering new information ,    listening to stories  (   she could spend hours with the grown ups ,   asking questions about the war and magic and about the muggle world ,   which grandfather arthur loved to share   ) ,   and had a great memory  (   often remembering insignificant details that no one else could   ).   it wasn't a surprise ,   then ,   that the sorting hat put her in the house it did.

HER THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE ,   however ,   was only surpassed  by her adoration for quidditch.    she was playing as soon as she could get on a broom ,    and such love was instilled by her parents.    roxie became the seeker for the ravenclaw team during her third year at hogwarts ,    and when the time came to choose a career ,   she knew without a doubt that she wanted to become a professional quidditch player.   she was soon signed by the montrose magpies ,   and is now their seeker.

SHE WAS VERY POPULAR IN SCHOOL.   her fun loving and accepting nature made her easily approachable ,   and gained her a lot of friends.   few were truly close ,   but she enjoyed being liked by most people and seeing friendly faces wherever she turned.    astronomy quickly turned into her favorite subject ,   and you could find her up the astronomy tower almost every thursday night ,   just looking at the sky and fascinated by the stars.

INCREDIBLY KIND AND COMPASSIONATE ,   she's able to relate to people and put herself in their shoes.   she's incredible at giving advice :   but not so good at following it herself.   roxie is also a vegetarian ,   working towards becoming a vegan.   social and energetic ,   she thrives when surrounded by her family and friends ,   and the thought of one day being alone terrifies her.   in the same vein ,    she loves a good party ,   and hates staying at home on a friday night.   being alone bores her quite quickly  (   perhaps a product of being born into such a huge family and being constantly around them   ).

HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER PARENTS IS AMAZING.    she deeply loves them ,   and is particularly close to george ,   who taught her everything she knows about pranks  (   which she loved to play on all of her cousins and brother when they were kids   ).   as a child ,   weasleys' wizard wheezes used to be her favorite place in the world.   she could spend hours browsing the shelves and helping her father with customers.    and thought she now has a busy schedule ,   she spends a full day with him there at least once a month.

SPEAKING ABOUT PRANKS ,   roxanne is not a rule follower.   with an adventurous spirit ,   she got in trouble quite a few times back in school ,   which is why she never became a prefect ,   despite her outstanding grades.   it never really bothered her :   as long as she was allowed to be up the sky on her broom ,   and was able to get her hands on some interesting books ,   she didn't feel the need for anything else. 

SHE'S ANNOYINGLY STUBBORN ,   especially when it comes to herself.   when she's set her mind on something ,   there's no changing it.   she enjoys arguing about things that matter  (   and being right   ) ,   and is definitely a sore loser when it comes to quidditch.

SHE HAS NO PETS.   she's almost never at her apartment ,    and knows she wouldn't be able to properly take care of another living being and give it the attention it deserves.

SHE'S A HUGE FAN OF TEA.   she will drink coffee ,   but only if it's the only thing available.

more to be added soon  !

#* 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — stardust fell from her lips and she bled out liquid gold. #mini:intro

[saltyfilmmajor]

Questions

My mother barely holds back her tears as she delivers the eulogy for my father. The church is silent, with only the tears of the congregation to break it. There’s a beautiful glass-stained window behind her, at the top of the altar, illuminated by the mid-morning sun.

“My husband was a loving man, he worked hard for me and my daughter…” my mind begins to wander, not that it was really all there to begin with. It all feels like a bad dream, all muddle up with scary emotions and surreal imagery. You know, like the ones where your teeth fall out in front of everyone. I just want to get away from this place. Full of mourning people who knew my father in different ways. Coworkers, church members, family. And then there’s me. I step outside, no longer wanting to sit idly by as my mother begins to cry, the mascara staining her face.

I stand outside the church wrapped up in my winter coat. It’s been years since I’ve seen some of these people. Cousins and aunts and uncles. People who watched me grow up. It’s funny how time drifted us all apart, we all used to be so close. Was it time or was it me? Mm, perhaps we both share the blame. The cold air nips at my skin keeping me from collapsing from exhaustion. The tiredness of grief I suppose. Still, my eyes begin to droop as I reminisce the last time the family was together about three years ago. They are fond memories, but they all start to blur after a while so I can’t differentiate them. I can hear myself talking.

The syllables roll around like marbles in mouth. My tongue emphasizes the wrong accents, my r’s and double l’s mispronounced like a beginner. I mix up el and la constantly only to be corrected by my father immediately after. Both in our home and amongst family my voice speaks a broken Spanish. I am an outsider to them. The Spanish that rolls off the tongue of my relatives is quick and fluid, like a well-oiled machine. They never need to second guess themselves. They speak with confidence while I speak with shame. Still, I smile and nod.

When my family gets together, we are all crammed in a small apartment. Small children run around, screaming and laughing. Sounds that come with the carelessness of childhood. The smell of food wafts from the kitchen at the other end of the apartment. My aunt and cousins are preparing dinner fussing over pots and pans on a hot stove, making sure that there will be enough for the 30 of us.

Because the apartment is so small, the heat from the kitchen reaches the living and dining rooms. The adults sit around in the living room, with a tv that is somehow too loud and too quiet. They all speak animatedly about sports and work, and old memories of their youth. The children make trouble and I am sitting in the corner observing.

My cousins are older than me, married with young children. They are vulgar but also full of warmth. We joke like teenagers, but I am the youngest of them at 19.

“Prima, what are you going to school for?”

My eyes shift to my father, he is talking to one of my cousins’ wives. He is beaming and joking. I can’t help but think that I am a burden on him. I smile politely and tell them I haven’t decided what I want to major in. That placates them for now.

After a few minutes, dinner is finally served on cheap paper plates and plastic cutlery. The food, however, is made with love and care and I readily devour it in seconds. I sit next to my father; he is already eating his third tamale. I’m glad he is able to enjoy himself. My mother laughs and says, “Remember when my daughter would eat like that?” The comparisons begin again, like at every family gathering. I don’t mind them much. My father and I are alike in temperament and in appetite. However, I suddenly excuse myself from the table and hide in the bathroom. I feel as though I’m failing my father. In a room full of uneducated people, they have their lives set in order. They work, they live, they take care of their families. They aren’t tied down to expectations like I am. I’ve worked my whole life to get into a good school, and now that I’m actually there, I don’t know what to do. This is the first time I realize I was raised with a survivalist mentality. The memory fades back as I remain standing by the entrance of the church.

“Did you get to enjoy your life?” I ask out loud, wondering if he was able to live and enjoy the fruits of his labor. I walk back inside; someone is bound to notice my absence. I’d rather not have gossip run around the walls of the church. Heathens they are, grabbing onto anything that’s unseemly and passing their judgments, even at the funeral of one of their own well-respected members. I feel their eyes stare on at me waiting for me to slip up. Once school began I stopped congregating here. I couldn’t stand their hollow smiles. Sincerity among the church is not a common trait. It is hypocritical of me to judge them, but it’s not like I’d tell them directly how I feel. They won’t know.

I drive home with my mother after my father’s burial. An American grave, against his own wishes. But he’s dead now I don’t think he’d mind. How much is an American grave worth, compared to one from Guatemala? Does it mean the possibility of a better status in the afterlife?

I don’t say that out loud, I don’t think my mother would appreciate it. I can’t help but be flippant otherwise I have to think about my feelings. Reminders that despite my best efforts, I am still a vulnerable human. Grief can cloud your perception, and as horrid as it sounds I’d rather be in my mother’s shoes.

My father’s death leaves questions in its wake I’d rather not contemplate. I’m an over-thinker by trade. I think humanities majors are required by law to be. My mother has fallen asleep and I try to drive carefully. She hasn’t slept in about three days, spending them crying and

eating. While I sleep and have lost my appetite. I wish I could do more for her. The love of her life is gone, and it destroys me inside. But all I can do is drive her home and heat up the leftovers in the fridge. My thoughts go back to my father, even if they never really left him.

He wanted to be buried near his father back home in rural Guatemala. The gravesites painted with colorful hues of purple, pink, and orange, contrasting with the vibrant green of the landscape. Death, at least in the aesthetics, is much more of a celebration in his homeland. Given the incredibly intense Protestant culture that is embedded in the country, I understand why. Death is never the end, twenty years of Sunday morning sermons drilled it into me. Yet now, I find myself questioning it. An American gravesite, making his corpse part of the land that rejected him and his kind. Still, he had managed to find work. Work, work, work. That’s all my dad did. Even in death, all I can think about is how he worked. Worked for our house, our food, my schooling, everything. He took pride in being a breadwinner and being able to be the man of the house. He didn’t have much growing up, so he learned to survive.

As a survivalist you must use the tools available to you. It didn’t matter that I was his daughter and not his son. Gender roles mean little when you aspire for your only offspring to thrive.

I helped him around the house, I helped with the yard work, the heavy lifting, learning how to work on cars and handle money. Along with cooking and cleaning. My status as an only child meant I become much more well-rounded than I otherwise would have been.

My father valued education above all else. Perhaps because it was not available to him. At the tender age of eight, he began to work the land and by thirteen he left school altogether.

He had no childhood. No room to enjoy being a dumb teenager. He passed that on to me, every time I brought home a test grade or a report card. I’d come home and run up the stairs happy to show him the ninety-two I got on my algebra exam, a subject I had struggled in.

“Ok good, but next time you get a one hundred.” He was satisfied, but that was it. No beaming pride, no congratulations. My smile faltered and I’d show my mother, telling her what my father said. We’d laugh about it, but deep down it hurt. He tried to teach me to do better but what he taught me instead was dissatisfaction. It wasn’t good enough. I had to get straight A’s, to get into a good school, to get a good job, to become successful.

I graduate soon at the end of the semester. Four long, hard years capping off a chapter I’ve spent almost my entire life working towards. But now after working so hard for a degree he spent my entire life telling me to aspire towards, he’s just gone. Dead, never to rise again.

All these years of pressure to get a piece of paper that says I went to college and he has the audacity to die.

“Are you proud of me? Were you ever proud of me?”

The question stirs in me and I am frightened by the fact that I truly don’t know the answer. Understanding my father’s motives does not bring me closure and asking questions just makes me angry. He taught me everything he could, but I still feel unprepared. What do I do without him here, telling me to aspire for more? All he ever wanted was to do was survive but he wanted me to want to live. Grammar nerds would say those words mean the same, but linguists would beg to differ. Although I side with the linguists I’d rather not argue about the semantics in my head, especially not while my mother is still fast asleep.

The sun has since set and the front of our house is cold and uninviting. My father’s car is in the driveway, so I park in the street. Even in something so innocuous my father is still

influencing my decisions. The more pertinent decision to make is will I choose to live or merely survive? Will I be like my father or will I become his expectations of me?

Maybe I’ll take the third option and just stop asking.

#my writing #Advanced Creative Fiction Workshop #Finally getting around to posting this #writing #supergeekytoon

[creamywater13]

Bats Not Included #1

Written by @creamywater13

“Ah, to be young again. To not have to bear the burden that is public education.” Richard leaned around his seat to face his little siblings behind him, “Consider yourselves lucky.”

“I like school,” said Jason.

“Okay, nerd.”

“Is there nothing for you to look forward to, Master Richard,” Alfred, butler and chauffeur asked, “Will none of your old friends be attending the same middle school?”

“It’s not really a middle school, Alfred. It’s a fancy-pants academy that none of my friends got into, and you know what they say about first impressions! I’m a goner already, I know it.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll at least make drama club.”

Richard slumped in his seat as Jason sat up in his, practically flattened against his window. “Alfred, are we almost there?” He inquired eagerly.

“That we are, Master Jason.” Jason gathered up his book bag and removed his seatbelt.

“Can I come with him?” Richard groaned.

“Are you going to find your friends still in elementary?”

“No.”

“Then please remain seated.” Alfred pulled up to the school, and got out of the car with Jason and Cassandra. Tim piped up from the back seat.

“Byeee!”

“Can I come to preschool with you, Timmy?” Richard turned back around.

“No!”

“Aww, why not?”

“You’re too big!”

“Yeah, you’re right. You will have to go without me.”

Alfred joined them back in the car, “I trust your seatbelt is still on, Master Richard?”

“Roger. Can I start riding in the front seat now that I’m in middle school and all? Don’t you have to be at least twelve?”

“If that’s what you would like, I suggest you consult your father.”

“He’ll say no…”

“Then I must do so as well.”

This is when Richard was finally quiet. That is, until reaching Gotham Academy.

“I do believe this is your stop, sir?”

“Yes. Thanks, Alfred. Love you, bye!” And with that, young Master Richard Thomas Wayne leapt into the brand new world that was the seventh grade. His little brother Jason Alfred Wayne was probably just as anxious about joining the second grade, but in a different way altogether. Timothy Lucius Wayne was becoming adjusted to preschool by now, and would do just fine. His sister Cassandra Martha Wayne would now begin kindergarten, finally an official elementary student. Damian Ibn al Xu'ffasch Wayne was still but an infant, and to remain at home with his mother.

***

Much to his surprise, there was somebody in Richard’s first class that he recognized. It was the pretty redhead girl he had mingled with at his father’s galas and other charity events-- the commissioner’s daughter. What was it? B… Barbara, maybe? Gordon, Barbara Gordon. He slid into the seat next to her.

“Hey, remember me? We’ve met before at--”

“Alright, class, the bell is going to ring in just a minute here, and then we’ll get started. I hope you’re ready.” Thanks a lot for the interruption, teach.

“We’ve met before at charity galas.”

“There was one just last month, of course I remember,” Barbara said, “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son, our parents make us talk all the time.”

“I know. But nobody’s forcing us to talk to each other now. Maybe if we try doing it for fun, we’ll end up liking it.”

“You’d better not be hitting on me, Wayne.” This caused Richard to lean away a little. He hadn’t even realized how close he’d gotten to her.

“What? No way, I just don’t know anybody else here. I’ve never been to a school like this.”

“Me neither.”

“See? We have something in common, we’re bonding already. Have you listened to Under My Skin? It just came out a few months ago.” This finally got Barbara to return a smile.

“Some of it.”

“Dude.”

Now the bell would ring and allow class to begin. Though he had finally said something that Barbara seemed to care for, Richard couldn’t help but to worry just a little. What if this was what it was like all day? What if he had to go home for break at the end of the week and had to tell his family that he hadn’t successfully made any friends. He caught himself thinking at one point; “I just miss my dad.”

***

“Okay, class, for this question I’d like to see if anyone other than Jason knows the answer. Got it?”

Jason dropped his aching arm and slumped in his seat. If anyone else cared to answer, wouldn’t they have volunteered already?

“Remember, it’s only the first day, this is just a review, you don’t need to worry about getting it wrong. In fact, if you share your thoughts, you might just find you’ve earned yourself a treat by the time it’s recess.” A few more hands finally made their way toward the ceiling. Jason hadn’t been promised a treat, but he didn’t need one, either. That’s not to say he wouldn’t like a treat, but the experience of learning alone was fun for him. In fact, he wasn’t even particularly looking forward to recess. According to the class schedule written on the board, the getting-to-know-you activities would begin after recess. Jason felt that the handful of students he knew from last year was plenty.

Alfred always encouraged Jason to be friendly with his fellow students, and his father had developed a habit of asking him to at least try and make friends. It never really worked out all that well for Jason. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the other kids, it’s just that making friends wasn’t what got him in the classroom. He wanted an education, he wanted to learn, he didn’t want to play outside with children that spent their lunchtime talking about how much money he had. He looked forward to the day that he’d be able to see Cass at combined lunchtimes and sit with her instead. Just because a butler made his pb and j instead of an older sibling or tired parent didn’t mean that he felt any different from the other children.

Jason remembered how Richard had asked to come with him to second grade earlier that morning. Jason wished it was the other way around, and he could follow his big brother to Gotham Academy. Everyone there was more like them. Nerd or not, was it too much to ask for Jason to feel like he was seen as normal? Bruce knew Jason was normal, but also acknowledged what made him special. Jason couldn’t help but to find himself thinking, “I just miss my dad.”

***

Kindergarten wasn’t all that bad at first. After all, it wasn’t very different from the preschool Cassandra had just graduated from. There was a little more order built into the function of the classroom, but it wasn’t even noticeable to her. The other difference, however, made things a little difficult. In this kindergarten class, there was nowhere near as much one on one time with instructors. For a child as intelligent as Cassandra to be so quiet was frustrating for the teacher. Mrs. Sandoval knew that little Miss Wayne would be one of her smartest students and was excited to have her in class, but upon discovering that Cassie wasn’t really one to share her thoughts and ideas out loud, she was a little disappointed. An entire room for learning set aside only to be filled with adorable little monkeys and a terrifically shy prodigy.

The truth was, Cassie loved her father. Being the man that raised her, played with her, taught her the basics, he was an absolute role model to her. It would be more than fair to say that she was trying to cope with a bit of attachment anxiety. She didn’t want to talk to her teacher, Mrs. Sandoval didn’t understand her. She wanted her dad, someone who did understand. Cassie had had a similar issue when beginning preschool, but eventually adjusted due to being able to learn one on one with instructors. This was different. This was a whole class with one shared subject at a time, and she didn’t really care for it. Of course she would do her best to carry on and participate, but the thought crossing her mind more than any other, was “I miss my dad.”

***

Although Timmy had been at preschool since the summer began, he was still adjusting. He didn’t really listen to the instructors when they were talking to each other, so he didn’t know that they were considering moving him up a class level. They hadn’t gone through with it yet, as Tim was still only three, and the pacing of a three year old’s development are very important.They were now discussing whether to leave Mr. Wayne an email about it, but what would the point be if Timmy actually was too young? They proceeded with their everyday assessment as usual in hopes to reach a consensus.

Tim also carried on with his usual daily activities, participating in simple crafts and games, having little conversations with instructors and so forth. His older brothers and sisters were all at school now, and it was a little different not having Cassie around during the day. It was his sister that he’d chatter to the most, but now that she was gone, he was quieter. He was playing by himself again now, which was a little worrying to a couple of the instructors. Timmy loved his sister and hadn’t really bothered with learning to connect with the other children his age. He missed having Cass around, but also missed being at home with his family. He could learn from his dad just fine at the manor. He didn’t entirely recognize what he was feeling, but little Tim missed his dad.

***

“Are you positively sure about this, Mistress Talia?”

“Have a little faith in me, Alfred. Just watch.”

…

“See? I told you. He’s fine. He’s extraordinary.”

“Yes, well, I must admit that I would appreciate you explaining to me what exactly is going on before you begin tossing infants in the pool next time.”

“If I had actually ‘tossed’ him, he would still be fine. A small child must be taught to swim, but babies at Damian’s age can manage already. It’s not just that either, but my son is an outstanding child. Born for greatness.”

“Yes, I, ah, believe you have mentioned as much, and I must once again concur. All of your children have shown to be fine examples and I couldn’t be more proud.”

Talia didn’t respond.

“Well, then. If I need not be worried, then I shall make my way to the kitchen to put a lunch together.”

“Very well.”

What a strange woman. The mother of Bruce Wayne’s children, Talia Al Ghul Wayne had not gone through this procedure with the other babies. Cassandra was only just improving her beginning swimming level, and Bruce himself may not have approved of this method. However, Bruce’s concerns could not stop Talia. Her only concerns were for Damian, her newest baby. It was clear to see from anyone’s perspective that he was special to her. Perhaps it was because he looked more like her than any of the other children? Maybe because her peculiar old father also had some sort of fixation on him. Damian’s siblings figured it was because he was the baby in the family. They couldn’t remember or process being that young, so they didn’t know any better. Those who were old enough did pick up on the fact that their mother was a little distant with them, even more so than their father, and tried not to let it bother them. If she would be like that with them anyways, why blame the innocent baby? It was easier to get along with dad anyway. Oh how his children missed their father, and how he missed them.

***

They’re already getting so big, Bruce thought, looking into that same strange glass as he did every night. Richard was in middle school now, and Cassie in kindergarten. How fast it all flew by. If he could only keep each and every one of them by his side forever. But the way things were going with Talia and her treatment of Damian, it seemed that Bruce would not quite earn that pleasure in the way that he was hoping for.

“Again, Bruce? Please come to bed, you have work tomorrow.”

“Wait.”

“For what, beloved?”

Bruce didn’t give her an answer. He simply stood there and watched the seconds ticking by on the old grandfather clock. Before Bruce could once again ask himself the question that had been plaguing him for years now, Talia beat him to it.

“What is it about that old clock, anyway? Has it not always been there?”

“I believe it has.”

“Then what is it we are waiting for?”

Bruce tried to remember. He came back here every night, staring that same face down from 10:30 to… Something. He was waiting for a specific minute, but he could never remember which one or why. 10:45 became 10:46 and the deja vu only grew stronger. All the other times that he had come down here and done this, he’d become satisfied upon seeing a certain minute pass and go to bed, but he didn’t ever know what it was until he saw it. 10:47… 10:48. There it was. Bedtime.

“Alright. I’m done now.” Bruce turned to his wife and gave her a soft smile.

“Finally. You need sleep.” She led him upstairs and they called it a night. As Bruce was drifting off, he came to the brutal realization that he couldn’t remember what number he had just waited for, and would surely end up waiting for again. Sometime after 10:30, but… The thought was gone, and slumber arrived in its place.

Elsewhere inside the manor, Richard thought to himself about the people he had met that day. The first day of seventh grade hadn’t been such a failure after all. If he could only keep it up and find a way to cope with several classes a day, he’d be just fine. He had gotten himself into an esteemed academy, after all. He wondered what his dad had done that day. Probably nothing as exciting. It seemed to Richard that the most exciting part of his dad’s daily schedule was that weird clock thing he would stay up to do some nights. Richard didn’t understand why he did it, but figured that he would know if it really mattered. Then his mind drifted and he thought maybe the family would go out for ice cream or something that weekend to celebrate going back to school. After all, they’d be able to afford it. Richard was then swept away into sleep as he dreamt of his frozen sweet treats.

Jason was having a hard time falling asleep that night. He was perfectly comfortable in his bed like always, but there would be a beginning of the year assessment in a week or so at school, new vocab and spelling words taught to the class the next day, not to mention the math facts routine. It was all a lot, and part of Jason wanted to do all of it that very second, but what he probably most looked forward to about being back at school was all of the reading time. He loved to allow himself to become engrossed in any sort of book he picked up and challenge his mind to adapt to new information. He got his imagination working, thinking about favorite stories of his, and let it all fade away into dreams.

Cass wasn’t struggling with sleep quite as much. At first, she didn’t feel very sleepy at all, she just felt anxious about going to school, but as everything came back to her, it all began to tire her out. She remembered what it was like when she learned things from playing with her dad, and how much she loved that time. Memories like this eased her mind and put her to rest.

Although Tim’s day had been a little tougher than average, this also only effectively tired him out more and he was right to sleep with dreams he wouldn’t ever be able to remember.

***

Richard’s 3rd period class had a seating chart, and although whoever sat to his left hadn’t attended the day before, he was here now. He answered to the name “Harper, Roy” during role call. Richard knew he had to introduce himself.

“Hi. Richard Wayne.” He extended a hand.

“Roy Harper.” Roy shook the hand.

“Is all this new to you too?”

“Pretty sure middle school’s new to everyone in this class.”

“I mean the fancy academy scene.”

“Oh, for sure. Bruce Wayne didn’t have you in a place like this for elementary?”

“No. He thought it would be a bit much for such a young child, but that I should start getting a little more ambitious at this age.”

“Fair enough.”

“You?”

“Was adopted into it. Oliver Queen.”

“Really? Have I seen you at any charity galas?”

“Probably not. Ollie doesn’t make me go.”

“Lucky.”

Day two didn’t seem like it would be so bad at all. Richard was already making new friends. He learned throughout 3rd and 4th period that Roy Harper was a loud, sort of cocky kid, but it was a nice change compared to the uptight quiet at home. Richard found Barbara Gordon again and shared lunch with her. She was still sarcastic with him, but it felt more like friendly banter than outright rejection. Barbara had finally listened to Avril Lavigne’s Under The Skin, which instantly got an excited conversation going. Barbara’s new friend Pam joined in the conversation and the warmth and comfort Richard felt surrounded by these fresh faces was something he hadn’t gotten in some time. He hadn’t even noticed how lonely it was at home, but the contrast was hard to miss.

***

Jason elected to spend another recess alone, reading in a corner against the school. It was incredibly hot outside, but the intense sunshine made it easier to see the words under the shade. Jason had found the perfect balance of light in his little hiding spot, and dreaded the ringing of the bell. Usually he didn’t care about recess coming to an end, but this chapter had captured his full attention and interest. The last thing he wanted was for his immersion to be interrupted. However, he heard someone approaching nearby, and looked up to see one of the recess aides eyeing him. What did she want? Did even the grown-ups here think Jason was weird? Could he not escape the prying eyes of criticism even at recess? He did his best to turn his focus back to his story, but couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on him. Not until the bell finally rang.

***

Cassie and Tim both still missed their families, but were also still having their brains put to the test. Cassie couldn’t go quite as fast as was natural for her, thanks to being stuck at the same pace as the rest of the class, and remained the quiet kid. Timmy was still given slightly more challenging puzzles and activities, and took to them relatively well. Their father would be proud of both of them, though he’d also try and encourage them to cheer up. If Richard could only be with them, they probably wouldn’t get bored at lunch and naptime as they did, as he always had something to say. Alfred understood the two better than anyone else did, and they both preferred his teaching methods. They did their best to learn and grow and participate, but they still just wanted to go home.

***

At home, behind the scenes of all the others’ lives, Talia wasn’t quite as nurturing with Damian as everyone thought she was. Sure, she spent a lot of time babying and coddling him, but she also continued to challenge him. Damian was still but an infant, but to Talia, it was best to start shaping him for his future as early as possible. To Alfred, it seemed that it wasn’t possible to get a baby to be what she wanted, but there was something special about Damian. He hardly ever failed to surprise Alfred. Of course, the other Wayne children were all very fast developers, but none of them had been tested quite this early. Damian clearly meant more to Talia than anything, but more than her other children? Why? Would she continue to behave this way if Bruce was home? Were the other children aware of this special treatment, and how would they feel about it if they were? Alfred couldn’t help his concern. Of course he loved and believed in Damian, but he felt that way with every child. They were blossoming into individuals of their own, as Alfred was well aware of, but all of Damian’s blossoming seemed to come at Talia’s pace rather than his own.

“Ah, Mistress Talia…?”

“Yes, Alfred?”

“You have spent so much time with dear Damian, which I must admire you for, but might I also suggest that you take a break? Parenting is no easy task and you have been at it without rest for such a long time. Perhaps you deserve a day off?”

“I appreciate it, Alfred, but if I was interested in a day off, I would have taken it already. I enjoy nothing more than spending time with my baby.”

“Of course. I shall remind Master Bruce of this for you should he ever consider a date night.”

“Alfred.”

“My apologies.”

“I know you have served for this family for a very long time, Alfred. But that doesn’t make you family. You have no ties by blood. This child is mine, not yours.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

“You are excused.”

“Thank you.”

***

10:40, 41, 42… What are you waiting for, Bruce? It’s just a clock, it’s always been there.

“What’s with the clock again?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Richard?”

“I just wanna know.” So do I, thought Bruce.

“Well, see, it’s 10:43 now, which means it’s well past time for you to be in bed, falling asleep. Would you like some warm milk or something?”

“I’m not a baby anymore, dad. I wanna know what you’re doing.”

“Waiting for the right time, I suppose.”

“For what?”

“The right time to go on a hunt for any little nuisances out of bed and destroy them.”

“Oh no.” Sarcasm.

“Oh, yes. Any minute now… 30 seconds to get back in bed or else.”

“Or else you’ll destroy me?”

“27 seconds, 26, 25…” Bruce began wiggling his fingers slowly and menacingly.

“What are you doing?”

“22, 21, 20…”

“My room is all the way upstairs, down the hall…”

“Then you’d better start running before I get to ten.”

“Daaaaaaadd.”

“9, 8, 7…”

“No fair!”

“You’re only safe in your bed now, Richard.” Richard finally took off towards his room. “Not too loud, Richard. The little ones are sleeping.” Bruce pursued carefully, quietly, quickly. Richard leapt over a couple of stairs, only to fall to his knees.

“No!”

“Shhhh.”

“Ah!” He scrambled back to his feet and kept running, as quietly as he could manage. He darted into his room and shut the door. Bruce followed and tried the handle. Richard was holding it from the other side, but Bruce was stronger.

“You’re only safe if you’re in bed.”

“No! No…” After a moment or so, the doorknob went loose and Bruce opened it. Richard pulled the covers over his head.

“Goodnight, Richard.”

Richard peeked out from under the blankets. “Goodnight, dad.”

“I love you, son.”

“Love you too, dad.”

“Get a good sleep tonight.”

“Okay, dad.”

And with that, Bruce left the room, carefully and quietly, and went to bed. Richard giggled to himself as he pulled the blankets back over his head and listened for a moment. Once he determined that it was safe, he pulled them back down to his shoulders and went to sleep.

***

“Hey. Wayne.”

“Yeah, Roy?”

“Wanna sit with me at lunch?”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Sick. Follow me when the bell rings. I’m thinking we’ll go off campus.”

“Really?”

“Sure. There’s a little shop somewhere near here, like down the street. Shouldn’t be a bad walk, we can pick something up there.”

“Sounds great.”

“Cool. We’re totally gonna do it. You have cash, right?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, good. Don’t forget, you’ll follow me when the bell rings.”

***

Jason was almost alone at recess once again. Almost, because that recess aide was still there, practically breathing down his neck, even several feet away. Whenever he looked up, he caught her turning away, and whenever he looked down, he felt her gaze slide back over to him. Jason tried to carry on for another minute or so, but he started getting kind of creeped out. He sighed, closed his book, and finally got up to look for another place to try and read in peace. At first, he thought that he’d managed to properly slip away, as the recess aide now only looked lost. Jason turned back to his reading, but only got a couple pages in before he felt the eyes again. Jason was done. Two could play at that game. Jason closed his book, looked up from it, and met the aide’s eyes with his own. Now it was a staring contest, or, it was until the aide started walking toward him. Jason’s heart was pounding, but he didn’t break. He just sat and waited until she had approached him.

“Kid, what’s your name?” “I don’t have to tell you.”

“Yes you do. I work here and I’m looking for somebody. What’s your name?”

“Jason.”

“Jason Wayne?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Look, they need you for a special program for the school, but I don’t want to bother you all through recess anymore. Just follow me when the bell rings, kay?”

Jason couldn’t answer at first, he had to fight back the tears of fear climbing their way up into his throat and his eyes. Still, he didn’t break. “Kay.”

“Alright. That’s all. Enjoy your recess, Jason, but don’t forget. Follow me when the bell rings.”

***

“I can’t remember the last time I was in a place like this.”

“What, a grocery store?”

“Alfred, uh, the butler, does most of the shopping. I like to come along sometimes, but he usually takes care of it when I’m not around.

“Gotcha. Come on, let’s go see what kinds of snacks they’ve got. I’m thinking pizza, but we’d have to sneak into the place where they keep the ovens back at school.”

“Do you even know where that is?”

“Well, not yet.”

“Let’s do pizza next time, then. We’ve got all kinds of money available, right? We could probably pick up a whole barrel of corn or something.”

“What would we do with all that corn?”

“Dunno. Probably feed a small village.”

“Ha! I like your style, Wayne. Check it, candy bars are buy two get one free.”

“No way!”

“Like we need free.” Roy started scooping varies candies into the shopping cart.

“They’ve gotta have a sale on ice cream, too. Now that summer’s coming to an end.”

“Definitely gotta check that out, but later so that it doesn’t melt if we get any.”

“Duh.” Dick pushed the cart along the candy aisle as though it was a scooter he was riding.

“Whoa. Can I try?” Roy had caught sight of what was going on.

“Sure. Let’s see how fast you can go. I do currently hold the record for highest speed within my family, so we’ll have to see how you do.” Richard hopped off his ride and waited for Roy to get on. In truth, Richard was never allowed to do that, but here with nobody but Roy, he could do whatever he wanted.

“Alright. Check it.” Roy got himself pumping, and he was pretty speedy, but one of the wheels began to twist. “Mayday!” He crashed, and a wide variety of junk foods came raining down upon him like an avalanche. He quickly abandoned ship. “Oops.” The boys turned to each other, and cracked up.

“That was amazing! Look at how much stuff we got in the cart. Might as well just pay for it all.”

“Sure! That was awesome. Now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, yeah!” Richard pulled the cart out of the wall of goods and got it going at a pretty good speed again. The boys went back and forth taking turns and adding fallen items to their purchase. That is, until Richard was barreling straight toward another customer. “Uh oh.”

“Stop, stop, stop stop!” Roy dove for the cart and grabbed as tight as he could. Using his surprising strength, he was able to catch Richard and slow his ride to a stop before this random lady was in any way injured.

“Do you really think you should be doing that here?” She crabbed.

“No.

“Probably not.”

“Sorry,” Richard could feel his face turning red.

“How old are you boys,” the lady demanded, “and where are your parents?”

“Fifteen,” Roy lied.

“Sure you are. Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“No, ma’am. It’s our lunch break.”

“Why would we have our uniforms on if we were ditching?”

“Don’t backtalk me. Stay right there, I’m getting an employee,” The lady stormed off.

“We should go.”

“You think?”

“Quick, let’s check out. They’ll think we’re valued customers and won’t get us in trouble.”

Roy grabbed the cart and began hurrying to check out. “Make sure you’ve got your money ready!”

“Got it,” Richard followed close behind. They got to check out just before the stranger woman could come back with someone to get them in trouble. “I just realized we’re going to have to carry all this stuff back to school.”

“We can stick some of it in our backpacks. Here.” Roy removed his bag and opened it up. Richard helped load the goods into it. “Well, my bag’s all kinds of heavy now, so I think the mission was a success.”

“You said it.”

“Let’s get back to campus before it’s too late.”

***

Dong, dong, dong. There was the bell for the end of recess. If Jason didn’t go over to the aide on his own, she’d probably come find him and bring him in anyway. Was there really any special program being put together on only the third day? Jason continued on, carrying himself across the school yard. What if he just lined up with the rest of his class to go back inside and the aide just forgot about it? It was probably worth a shot. Even if Jason didn’t know exactly why he had such a bad feeling in his gut, he was going to go along with it. He made his way over to line, sweating even more than usual under the glaring heat. The aide followed. Jason got into line, and she came over to stand next to him. She leaned down to his level and spoke softly, “Remember what I said? Follow me.” She took Jason by the wrist, and led him away from what he knew.

“Alright, Jason. Sit tight while I find out where the administrators are that should have been here by now.”

Jason didn’t sit. Though he had been at this school since kindergarten, he wouldn’t say that he knew this woman. He didn’t even know her name, just that he was alone with her in the teacher’s lounge with the door shut for some reason. He had expected to be taken down the office with some other kids, but that hadn’t happened, and Jason’s fear only grew worse. I have to get out of here before I find out why she took me with her.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Sorry, hold for a sec. Jason. I’m on the phone. Please wait a minute.”

“I said I gotta go to the bathroom. Please?”

“Why didn’t you go at recess?”

“I didn’t know I had to. But I really do.”

“Just hang on and read your book for a minute and then I’ll escort you to the bathroom.”

“How long is the phone call gonna be?”

“Look, your story distracted you before, right? Just keep reading and I’ll handle it in just a second.”

“I’ll try, I guess…” Jason finally sat down. His plan hadn’t worked. Now what?

“Yes, I have him with me. You do know how to get here, right?” Why wouldn’t people from the school know how to get there? “Yes, I’m sure. He told me himself. Yes! God, do you think I’m stupid? We’re not going to wait around forever, they’re going to want him back in class soon.” Back in class? Was she going to let him go back to class if this person didn’t show up? “Just get here asap, please. Poor kid doesn’t have all day.” She glanced in Jason’s direction as she said this, which allowed him to ease up a little. That was right, he didn’t have all day, he had classwork to do. He had no time for this stunt. “Got it. Later.” She hung up. “Okay. Let’s take you to the bathroom.”

Jason followed through with his bluff, but still didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t come into the boys’ bathroom, but was waiting just outside the entrance. He could try and just run, but that would be stupid if all of this was really nothing. Now he actually did have to go to the bathroom, so he finished up, washed his hands, and… Kept washing. Was it safe to go back out there? Of course it was, he’d go back to class if the “administrators” didn’t show, right? Right. And if they did show, they’d talk to him about some stupid program and he’d tell them he’d have to go home and ask his dad to join and they’d send him back to class and he’d go home. Right?

“You done?” The aide asked, and Jason responded with a nod. “Good, let’s get you back in the teacher’s lounge to wait for Mr. Steele, alright? He’s in charge of the program and shouldn’t take too much longer.” Jason just kept quiet and followed her. Back in the teacher’s lounge, he picked his book back up and tried to use it as a means of drowning out his worry. It felt like hours were slowly dragging themselves along as Jason waiting with the aide. He still didn’t know her name. She was still watching him. Then, finally…

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Mr. Steele, nice to meet you, Jason.” Mr. Steele held out a hand, and tentatively, Jason took it. After the handshake, Steele continued, “You are Jason Wayne, son of Mr. Bruce Wayne, right?” Jason shook his head and Mr. Steele furrowed his brow.

“He is, don’t worry,” said the aide, “He’s just a little nervous.”

“Oh, I understand. Been through it many times before myself. Your mouth has probably gotten all kinds of dry, poor kid. Let’s get you a drink of water.” The aide went to the water dispenser and did just that. She gave it over to Jason after the briefest of pauses, and he didn’t drink it.

“So, Jason. Rumor has it you’re a clever kid. Is this right?” Steele had his eyes locked on Jason now, too, which made him all the more unsettled. To tell the truth, however, his mouth was getting a little dry.

“Well, I, uh, I like school,” Jason replied.

“Wow. Good kid. Most don’t, they’d rather slack off and have recess all day long.”

“Well. You’re keeping me out of class.”

“It won’t be long, don’t worry. We just want you to take a test. It’s an evaluation given only to smart kids like yourself to see if you need to receive your education differently. I will warn you that it’s sort of a long test, so if you want to go to the bathroom or get a drink or anything, you should take care of it now.”

“No thanks. I already went.”

“Good. Then let’s get started.” Steele pulled out a packet of papers and placed it on a table in front of Jason. “If you’ll sit here,” he also produced a pencil and set it next to the paper, “Then we can begin.”

Jason relaxed a little more and moved into the seat at the table. There was actually a test there, an actual pencil, and actual quiet in the room. That was all. Jason took a drink of his water and started on the test. Lucky for him, it began with a reading portion. Inattentively, he finished his water and proceeded with the test as confidence began to push anxiety aside. He could do evaluation just fine, except… It was more difficult this time around for some reason. Perhaps because Jason suddenly felt so inexplicably sleepy…

***

Bruce Wayne stood solemnly in his home, once again watching that same grandfather clock as the night around him deepened. It was late, but he stayed up… Waiting. This time, however, he knew why. He had something to wait for.

10:48 pm came and went, and there was still no word back from the police about the disappearance of Jason Wayne.

#batman #batman and robin #batfamily #batfam #robin #nightwing #batgirl #red robin #red hood #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #cass cain #tim drake #damian wayne #fanfiction

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations ANTHONY! You’ve been accepted as DIONE.

Excuse me as I scream because you finally brought us a Finn, Anthony! Finn is a character that is filled with a lot of complexities and you touched upon beautifully within your app. Life for them has not been kind, and yet they continue to look for that family they’ve never had. And let me just say, Finn’s intelligence? Chef’s kiss. They know they’re smart and they use it to their advantage to get what they want - which is the exact reason our dearest Alma picked them out of all the possible mutants. 

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Anthony

PRONOUNS: He/Him

AGE: 19

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: I can be pretty active most days except for Tuesdays and Thursdays!

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Finn Croix | Dione

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Genderqueer | He/They

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Dione, the deity of the springs, and a water goddess. She’s tied with Finn’s first name due to Fionn mac Cumhail (Fionn being where Finn comes from) gaining wisdom from an enchanted salmon. Also, Dione was an oracle, and Fionn had wisdom. Another thing is that Croix, which means cross, and it’s said that Fionn isn’t dead, but is resting and waiting for a horn to be blown three times, similiar to how in Christianity, Gabriel must blow the horn three times to signal the end of the world. Next, Fionn gets white hair, and maybe Finn was born with white hair, so they shaved it off to not be as noticed as others.

For me, Finn is a very complex individual. They have grand things they can accomplish in their life, but also, they are very comfortable not doing any of them. They are where they want to be, when they want to be there. Another thing is how they relate to people in life. Finn in my eyes, doesn’t like to get close to most people. They like to push off, to not get close, unless they choose to. But at the same time, I feel like they are very warm and caring with those they have chosen to love. The first two lines of their aesthetic says that to me. Also, I feel like Finn doesn’t like to truly settle down. They may stop at one place, but never truly stay. For them, life is the ability to be free. To not be tied down, unless they choose to. And I feel like, Finn has chosen to be tied to where they are now. That’s what the next two lines say. The final line, I feel like is how Finn feels, about everything. They’ve been forgotten their whole life, and don’t really know what to do. Other people forget them, and feel bad about it, but don’t really change things, unless they want to get rid of the feeling.

BIO:

Finn Croix is the fourth son of the Croix family. They were born, one horribly storm day in the middle of August. By the time their one-month old mark rolled around, they looked almost nothing like their siblings. Incredibly pale, white hair, the only thing that showed Finn was even related was their dark brown eyes. However, to most of their family, it didn’t matter. They were just another Croix kid, and they belonged. It did matter to their mom, Etna, though. She wanted Finn to look like her, to be like her, to be born a girl. That never happened. Etna kept her distance, too greatly disappointed by her final child not being the little girl she had been praying for. So, she kept her distance from her youngest, confusing Finn as they grew up, not sure what they had done wrong.

By the time they were five, Finn had learned not to talk to mother unless spoken to first, not to bother father unless it was life or death, and that their brothers were ride-or-die to a degree. They also knew that, regardless of anything else, the evilest people on the planet were, of course, Mutants. As long as they never associated with that group, they would be fine, in the long run. That choice was taken away from them.

One day, while Finn and their brothers were playing outside, their eldest brother, Daniel, accidentally started a fire. Finn, to this day, isn’t actually sure that Daniel meant to start it. All they know is, one second, Daniel’s doing something, and then next there’s a giant fire and Patrick, Finn’s brother barely older than them, is crying. After that, Finn heard people yelling around them, obviously scared of what just happened. However, Finn was more worried about Patrick, so they rushed to his side, and somehow, miraculously, made the burn marks that had already started to form on Patrick’s hand, cool down.

In the long run, this was not a smart thing to do.

After the event was immediately over, Finn was pulled away from Patrick, along with Daniel. They were both brought before their father and mother. Their mother, who had obviously just gotten finished crying, and their father, who looked furious. Their father, Daniel Sr., was quick to inform them that they were no longer to call either of their parents’ “father” or “mother” and that they were no longer “true Croix’s.” Daniel Sr. went on to explain that both of them would be separated, one sent the Croix’s in France, and the other, to the Cullen’s in New York. Then, they were sent to their rooms, and that was the last time that Finn saw their brother, Daniel, in person.

After that, it was a whirlwind of things happening. Finn quickly found out that they were staying with Etna’s parents, the Cullen’s. They also found out from Baptiste, the second oldest Croix child, that the Cullen’s were of the opinion that the only good mutant was a dead one, and the only good alive mutant was one who was constantly in full control of their powers. Another thing they found out is that they would no longer be able to contact their siblings. Finn was lost. No friends, no contact with their brothers, what was there left?

At the age of six, Finn was fully moved in with their grandparents. They also learned a new set of rules. Their grandfather was only to be referred to as Alastar, their grandmother, Kennedy. They were not to touch anything in the house freely without permission, except in their room. They had a tight schedule on what Finn was allowed to do, and if Finn missed something? They would be punished, and not lightly. They had training every day to master their powers, to learn the self-control needed to no longer be a danger to society.

By the time Finn was eight, they had learned more prayers and hymns to help keep themselves in balance when they feel they are about to have an episode, than they had friends in the world. And they didn’t know a lot of prayers or hymns. By the time they were nine, they had a strong mastery over their powers, and were granted some freedoms. One of those being to go back to public school. By the time they were ten, they were allowed to make a choice. They could stay with their grandparents, or go back to their parents. They decided to stay with their grandparents, because the evil you knew was better than the evil you didn’t.

School was a breeze for Finn, for the most part. They weren’t messed with in class, due to the strong fear that everyone had to them being mutant. The classes were also pretty easy, due to their grandparents refusing to have a grandchild that didn’t understand the subjects they were being taught. By the time Finn was in the eleventh grade, they had the top scores in the class, with no problem, and were considered to be the only viable choice for the valedictorian. When twelfth grade rolled around, the rules changed though. Suddenly, at the age of 70, Alastar Cullen, had a heart attack. Two days later, he was dead. Three days after that, Kennedy Cullen was found dead from taktsubo cardiomyopathy, or, heart break.

Finn didn’t know what to do. They had just turned 18, were about to graduate from high school, and both their guardians were dead. When the wills for both of their grandparents were finally discussed, it was found that the Cullen’s had left nothing except a few thousand dollars to Finn, and everything else to Finn’s brothers, Baptiste and Patrick. It was the first time that Finn had seen them in years. However, Baptiste seemed disinterested, and Patrick wasn’t allowed to talk to them. Then, they were kicked out of their grandparent’s home, as they were no longer welcomed there. By the time that everything had settled, with the will reading and Finn getting kicked out, Finn had lost the only “family” they had, their safety of a home, and their position as valedictorian due to not being able to keep up with the course work. They were still high in rank, but it wasn’t the same.

So, they moved. With only a few thousand dollars to their name, they began to travel the country. They had no steady job, just picking up random ones when a mutant needed help, or when someone wanted to do something illegal and needed a mutant who didn’t care too heavily about who they were hurting.

It wasn’t until around the age of 25, that they realized they weren’t happy. After a job gone wrong, where they had someone get scapegoated, did Finn realize that they weren’t helping anyone. They had been burned by their family, and, in turn, started burning fellow mutants. And for what? A bit of extra cash? They hated themselves for that. They began a side research project, once they had this realization. They quickly looked up areas where there were high mutant populations, where there was more acceptance to mutants, and where they could find a job with their specific skill set. It wasn’t hard to find a city like that.

Chicago was the haven for mutants, but was also losing ground as that haven. Then, Finn found the Big Three. The Blackburn Syndicate, the Jem family, and Kings Collective. The three most powerful groups in Chicago, with an underbelly, and the ability to help other mutants. That’s where Finn wanted to be.

They quickly finished up the jobs they had left in the current city they were in, and began to head towards Chicago. It wasn’t difficult to get there, and only slightly more difficult to find a way into the group they wanted. While the other two groups were good, they weren’t what Finn was looking for. The Jem Family believed in mutant supremacy, which Finn had never seen, and the Kings Collective who wanted to steal art, which they weren’t that interested in. No, they were interested in the protection that the Blackburn Syndicate offered. They quickly searched for a way to set up a meeting, but found they had no reason to. Their leader, Alma Rosario, found them first. She quickly offered a spot to Finn, in exchange for Finn to work for her. It was no question. Finn Croix, was now a member of the Blackburn Syndicate.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Rebeka York – Finn and Rebeka were never bound to get along. Too similar in powers, and Finn loving to annoy people at times, it was bound to not be a good friendship. However, that doesn’t mean that Finn doesn’t appreciate Rebeka’s gift. In fact, they see Rebeka as an equal, in terms of mutations, regardless of the differences between them.

Rahim Avery – Rahim and Finn are close, and Finn will fight someone for trying to say otherwise. To them, Rahim is a breath of fresh air. It’s nice, knowing that there’s someone on his danger level that they can relate to. It’s very nice, knowing that Rahim trusts them.

Abigail Imani – Abigail is, was, and always will be, the first friend that Finn had, that they felt safe enough to be themselves around. They miss Abigail, a lot more than their willing to admit. They knew, maybe from the beginning, that they wouldn’t stay friends, but it still hurt. However, it’s not like they stuck around to see what Abigail thought. Once they learned about Abigail being in Chicago though? It was like another thought went through their head. Maybe, just maybe, I can reconnect?

EXTRA:

Mock Blog

Playlist

Aesthetic Unsplash

Family Lineage

Headcanons

ANYTHING ELSE: I didn’t know if I needed to fill the OOC part again, so I did it just in case!

#accepted #accepted: dione

[afictionaladventure16]

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project...

Word Count: 2,110

Warnings: Watch your Profanity

Chapter 6

Letter #6

November 8th, 2017

Julie’s POV

Julie walked into her dad's house. She smiled as she recalled memories of her childhood home, funny how as now that she was older anytime she walked somewhere along the house, she always found some lost memory, like it was stored in the back of her head for that specific moment.

“Apa?” Julie called out for her dad as she entered the kitchen.

“In here!” She heard her dad say, she made her way over to the living room to see her dad fixing some lamp. The dogs greeted Julie with such excitement, “Hey there!” She said as she bent down and began to pet the two small dogs in front of her. She heard her dad grunt and then let out a heavy sigh, “there!” He said in success, “damn thing shouldn’t break anymore.” He then turned to Julie, with a wide grin, “how are you, mija?” He said as Julie got back up and gave her dad a hug. He gently kissed the top of her head with such pride and joy.

“Good,” Julie watched as her dad groaned as he sat down on the couch, she knew that sound all too well. Julie’s dad never knew when too quit, “Apa, when are you gonna retire?”

“When the work kills me,” he said with pride, Julie rolled her eyes and began to pick up the dog toys that were scattered on the floor.

“You’re too stubborn for death,” she mumbled but her dad heard her and let out a small huff. He knew it was true as he smiled a bit at the fact.

“Good,” he huffed, “I like the manual labor. Puts me to good use other than just sitting here waiting to die.”

Typical, Julie thought. Her uncles were the same way, never knowing when to quit. “Cindy has a good job,” she said as she mentioned her stepmother, “she’s a nurse for christ’s sake, she’s been one for what? Forty years? You guys will be perfectly fine if you retire now.”

He mumbled a few words under his breath, he hated the word retirement, made him feel useless, “then what good would I be then?” Julie raised her eyebrows at her father and he instantly knew that look, regretting saying what had just been said; he rolled his eyes and let out a defeated sigh, “I guess… maybe I can work on the garden more if I do retire soon… maybe fix some things in this damn house,” he gestured towards the bathroom, “damn sink is leaking again and I never have time to fix it, either.”

Julie smirked, she knew her facial expressions can get to her dad, “you can finally make that garage into that man cave you’ve always talked about.”

He smiled, “yeah and I can put that record player you got me for fathers day in there, and play my records I got.”

“Did you go to that record store I told you about in downtown?”

He nods, “got some good records too, planning on going back later on this weekend.” Julie smiled as she placed the dog toys in the small basket that was on the floor, low enough for the dogs to reach, “any word on your mother?”

Julie shook her head, “thankfully enough.”

“Maybe you should talk to her,” he sounded hesitant, he knew how much of a touchy subject this was for his daughter, but he is only trying to help.

Julie shook her head once more, “No, the only thing coming out my mouth when I see her is how much of pu-nevermind,” Julie instantly calmed herself down. She didn’t want to get angry, not now anyway.

“How much of a what?”

Julie sighed, “just forget it, dad,” he sighed and just glared at her, making her groan, “how much a puta she really is!”

He glared at her even more at the tone of voice she had and for the words she had just used, “I didn’t raise you to speak that way.” Julie always found it funny how her dad only got angry when she cussed in spanish but never got angry when she cussed in english.

“If I remember correctly you were the one who taught me all the bad words in Spanish when I was just five years old.”

He smiled with glee, “it was damn funny too,” He then looked over at Julie, remember how small she used to be, “mija, say a la verga.” This only earned him a glare from Julie, “you were so small! You didn’t know any better.”

“exactly, and you took advantage of it,” Julie said as she let out a small chuckle, she then sighed as her mind wandered back to that time. How much of mess her life really was back then, but all that mess was just growing and growing until it exploded. She sat down on the recliner and began to fiddle with her thumbs, her dad instantly felt the mood change in his daughter, “what’s on your mind, Juju?” He asked with such concern in his voice.

“it just hurts to think about back then… we were so oblivious to the mess that was being created at that time and she just stood there… she literally stood and watched it all get worse for her.”

Her dad gave her a confuse look, “what does Olib- obl-“ she noticed her dad struggle to say the word.

“Oblivious, dad,” she said with patience in her voice, “ob-liv-i-ous,” she sounded it out for him, she did it a second time but he repeated it with her.

“Oblivious!” He said, “what does it mean?”

“It means not be aware of something.”

He nods, “you’re so smart, you know that?”

Julie rolled her eyes, “well, for being a college dropout, I am surprised that I am.”

“At least you got to go to college, I barely got to finish the eighth grade, even then, I hardly ever went to school my dad would take me to work every day to help feed the family.”

“I know, dad,” Julie said as she stood up and kissed him on the cheek, “you changed the subject, but I have to go.”

He grumbled, “sure, you just don’t want to talk about it.” She rolled her eyes, “I’m kidding, mija.” He said with a smile, “drop by tomorrow, I might do a barbecue.”

“You know I’ll always stop by for your barbecues!” She said her goodbyes to the dogs and then her dad as she made her way out of the house. Julie remembered that she had a letter waiting for her at her therapists office, she quickly made her way over there.

“Hey, Becca!” Julie said with a smile as she entered the building.

“Ahh, so you got my message!” Becca said as she handed Julie her letter, “And Dr. Holt is in her office, she wants to speak to you.”

Julie looked at Becca confused, “but our appointment isn’t until next week.”

Becca gave Julie a small shrug. Julie sighed to herself and made her way into Dr. Holts office, “Dr. Holt?”

“Ah! Julie! It’s so nice to see you! Please sit!”

Julie sat down on one of the chairs, “what’s this all about?”

Dr. Holt smiled, “well, I spoke to Dr. Hudson, your… well, I understand his name is Chris, Dr. Hudson is Chris’s therapist.” Julie gave Dr. Holt an understanding nod, “anyways, we spoke on the phone recently, Dr. Hudson and I, and she told me this idea that Chris came up with.”

“Which is?” Julie felt herself getting a bit impatient.

“P.O. boxes, for the letters of course. So, it’ll be easier for you both to send the letters,” Dr. Holt cleared her throat, as she got a small key out from one of her drawers in her desk, “we both agreed it was a brilliant idea,” she said as she handed the key to Julie, “this is the key for the P.O. box and here is the paper with all the information you need regarding the P.O. box.” She handed Julie a small piece of paper which had the number of the box and which post office.

“Chris came up with this idea?” Dr. Holt gave her a nod, “smart,” she mumbled. She then thanked Dr. Holt, not before the Dr. reminded her of the appointment, they had the following week. Julie said her goodbyes to Becca and then walked towards her car.

Julie decided to drive to the post office where her P.O. box was at, deciding to make herself become accustomed to the drive. Once she found the post office, Julie grabbed the letter that she had placed in the passenger seat.

 Dear Juju,

What did I tell ya? Or was it you that told me? Anyway, I didn’t say Julie, I said Juju this time around. I feel like we’re close enough to begin calling each other by our nicknames. Which I just realized; you gave me your nickname but I didn’t give you mine… Another mystery that needs to be solved? That would be too cruel wouldn’t it? I’ll let you take three guesses and then I’ll tell you. And from the looks of it, you can be dramatic, but that’s okay. I’m an actor after all. I too can be dramatic when I need to be.

Mr. William sounds like a sweet old man, someone who probably has lots of stories to tell, if you just sat down with him and listened. Now as for the rude customers, you don’t have to start anywhere, I can just guess, I’ve seen a handful of rude customers from being a customer myself. Now, as for the photography you have briefly mentioned… show me the photo you are most proud of capturing. That’s if you are comfortable enough to show me. No pressure.

And I can assure you, Juju, that I am even more funny in person. Maybe one day you’ll just see for yourself.

I am a living pretty well kind of actor, by the way.

You have family from Mexico? So you’re Latina? Do you speak Spanish? Willing to teach me a few words if you do? Also winter here in Boston is gorgeous! You just have to see it, Julie. I’m familiar with the winter in California, it can be quite sad, I always come home to Boston for the winter. Mostly because of the holidays but also because of the scenery.

Phew! I am so glad I do not have to ask for a different pen pal! And I am so sorry that I offended you although, I must point out that you did the same thing within the first letter. Without even knowing a guy! Kinda harsh there, Juju.

Ahh, you’re the only girl! I’m assuming that you were very protected by your brothers as a child. I had sisters so, it was quite different in my household. But me and my siblings are a tight bunch.

Alright then, if we’re starting this game, let’s make it interesting…. What was your favorite subject in high school?

 Toodles.

 P.S. Good, I would hate to make you upset.

P.P.S.

 I didn’t mean to make you panic, I am so sorry for that, Julie. But I am glad you told me. I imagine it must be hard for you to share that information with an almost complete stranger, but I must ask, who else have you spoken to about your childhood? I’d imagine you spoke to your therapist about it.

I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that a mother would threaten to kill their children. When you said guilt for the mistakes, she had made in the past… what mistakes? I also saw that you mentioned that your dad’s son from his first marriage has no relation to you… what did you mean by that?

How was your childhood being raised by a single father? It’s rare to hear about single fathers raising children. Do you and your stepmother get along now? What caused all these fights? I’m sorry if I am asking so many questions it’s just, I’m trying to understand a little bit better and I also care about you, Julie. I know we haven’t even met each other in real life but by the looks of it, you seem like a nice girl. A girl that is strong and independent… did I mention strong? Because I have a feeling, I know what would’ve happened to you if you had stayed with your father, but you’re here, Julie. You’re alive. And I’m proud of you.

  Julie decided to wait on the reply, after all there things that needed to be attached that she had left at home.

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