#also my grandparents raised me from like 11 on and while my dad and i used to get on ok as adults hes ignoring im trans

[malocclusive]

"I've never been important in my life"

-Looks at my framed (state) art Ed association award for outstanding club sponsor-

Tbh idk how they figured out I even hosted and it's probably bs but I did feel cool

Tho my dad tried to post pics of sloth from the goonies in the zoom chat while an artist speaker was talking about learning how to enrich her son's autism and help him make art and all, and I had to tear his ass apart for daring to pull that. Luckily there was no way to post images, and she was prerecorded, but fucking hell dude

I reframed it with "it means so much to me that she's not only recognizing her son's needs, but finding ways to help him develop art and communication around it. It took me til I was 28 to get diagnosed with ADHD and I struggled constantly. I'm not even on med that are super useful bc of my inexplicable blood pressure mystery issues, but the ones I'm on helped so much. I wish someone helped me incorporate my struggles in a useful way"

"I'm so sorry I gave you the ADHD, it's awful"

BITCH YOU NEVER FUCKING ROLD ME YOU HAD IT, AND NEITHER DID MOM

You fuckers.

I have a bunch of framed student work and an incredible card a kid wrote me last year, that's all way more genuine

My ceramics teacher in HS was the one adult who gave a fuck about me, I hope I get more emails from former students down the line about how they felt heard. That's the real deal dawg

[clunelover]

Watching The Americans, one thing I keep thinking about - I really relate to this feeling of "omg I’m raising my kids in such luxury compared to how I grew up, and they have no idea how spoiled they are."

And this is with us trying consciously to not spoil them! But just…idk it seems like kids have so much more stuff now. My kids have SO many stuffed animals and toys, and while I definitely remember my mom being annoyed specifically at my large stuffed animal collection, there’s no way I had this much stuff! But we only really get them stuff for their birthdays and Christmas, we’re not out here like buying random toys just because! And we stick pretty closely to the "four Christmas presents from mom and dad to each kid - something you want, something you need, something to wear, something to read." Although we’ve slipped a little, like getting more than one something to wear or read because like, shouldn’t we be able to get them LOTS of books? But this year we’re going back to full on, just four items for each of them - but I’m saying, even when we’ve fudged it a bit, we didn’t get them more than one TOY or "want" item…so where does it all come from?

Idk maybe I’m misremembering how much stuff I really had…also my kids are closer in age than I was with my sisters, so we had relatively little overlap of time when we both wanted stuffed animals or whatever. And they have more aunts/uncle/grandparents in their lives consistently getting them gifts. When I was growing up, my mom was mostly estranged from her family and they didn’t send us stuff, and then on my dad’s side there were so many damn grandkids you could count on one SMALL present from grandma and grandpa (is that right? That still would have been quite a lot of presents even if they were small…but in any case I remember that being pretty strictly regulated lol).

It’s just weird…when I was little, my mom was on welfare, and I definitely remember knowing we didn’t have much compared to other people. But then she married my stepdad and became a realtor, and between both their jobs we had a solidly middle class lifestyle for a while…but then it moved on to real boom and bust when they split up, like she at one point had a big house in the nicest neighborhood in town, plus a little cottage up north, but then they both got foreclosed on. She declared bankruptcy twice, once when I was in 5th grade and once when I was early 20s. That level of up and down. And I always knew WAY too much about her financial situation as a kid, and a lot of her out-loud fantasizing included "when we’re rich"…so there was just an icky level of focus on money (but I’m saying this as someone who is now upper middle class and always has enough money, so it’s comparably easy for me to NOT focus on it).

And then my dad and stepmom also had an unusual setup, where my dad did work until I was in maybe middle school, but then he became too disabled, and they lived on his disability plus whatever money from my wealthy step-grandparents (although my stepmom claims that while they did give generous gifts, like if it was time to get a new car her parents would just buy it for them as a gift, they didn’t give any regular $ to cover day to day expenses…who knows whether that’s really true). In any case, my stepmom almost never had a job, since my sister was born when I was 11 - she was a stay at home mom to my sister, and then she didn’t get a job when my dad stopped working, because my sister was still little, and then even as sister got older my dad needed a lot of care (…but if she didn’t have the safety net of her parents, she would have had to get a job, and they all would have survived!) The point is, from the time I was in like…7th grade? Neither of them had a job at all!

So it’s like I don’t quite have a model for "living modestly and teaching one’s children the ‘value of a dollar’ without getting them all freaked out or overly focused on money."

One thing I intend to get into once my foot is healed and I can move about, is volunteering as a family. We have some friends who do that every week and I think it’s a great idea to try to have the kids focused a little on things other than what they want to acquire.

[tojisis]

100 Things about me

1) Full name?

Jurgen Teodor Aliaj. (My middle name is my dad's name)

2) Male/Female?

Male. Born and raised.

3) Were you named after anyone?

My late uncle from my mother's side.

4) Does your name mean anything?

It means land worker in German.

5) Nickname(s)?

Juri (from my family), Alejandro (from my girlfriend)

6) What do you think you look like?

Yes.

7) Date of birth?

August 11th 2006

8) Place of birth and current location?

I was born in Ioannina, Greece. I currently live in Tirana, Albania (I've been here since I was 2 years old).

9) Nationality and race?

Greco-Albanian, white as a ghost.

10) Astrology sign?

Leo. Rawr.

11) Chinese astrology sign?

Dog, I'm not complaining I have two of them.

12) Religion?

Christian. (Roman Catholic)

13) What's your favorite smell?

Cheap incense my hipster brother used to keep in his study room in the 2010s

14) Political Position?

Independent.

15) What do you prefer to drink in the morning?

Chocolate milk.

16) Hair + eye color?

Dark brown hair, almost black, with hazel eyes.

17) Do you look like anyone famous?

Girls used to say I looked like Tony Lopez. I think I'm more like Anthony Padilla.

18) Are you good looking?

Perhaps.

19) Any unusual talents?

I am near immune to any sickness and or allergy if that counts as a talent.

20) Righty, lefty, or ambidextrous?

Ambidextrous.

21) Gay, straight, or bi?

Straight.

22) What do you do for a living?

Senior student, who is jobless.

23) What do you do for fun?

Well, I used to play bass, but that is long gone. I do like travelling a lot and I can't wait to be independently travelling in the future.

24) Materials to work with?

I don't work...

25) What kind of materials would you like to work with?

A hammer, like Judge Judy.

26) Have you met your grandparents?

Yes. Unfortunately ¾ of them have passed away when I was not yet a teenager.

27) Boyfriend/Girlfriend?

I have a beautiful and amazing girlfriend.

28) Crush?

My girlfriend.

29) What celebrity would you date if you could?

If my girlfriend was a celebrity, I would date her. If I was forced to date a legit celebrity, maybe Lucy Liu.

30) Current worries?

The country I live in. Murders and car accidents by the daily.

31) Favorite online guy/girl(s)?

My girlfriend.

32) Favorite place to be?

A place with air-conditioning, food and my girlfriend.

33) Least favorite place to be?

A place which is WITHOUT air-conditioning, food and my girlfriend.

34) Do you burn or tan?

I tan, except for a few parts of my face and back.

35) Ever break a bone?

I fractured my right tibia 3 years ago.

36) What is your favorite cereal?

I don't eat cereal.

37) Person you cry with?

Myself most of the time, I'd rather cry to my girlfriend if we weren't 2 hours away from each other.

38) Any sisters?

I have two sisters. One is older, the other is younger.

39) Any brothers?

I have two older brothers.

40) Any pets?

Two golden retrievers. Shanks and Jay

41) An illness?

Nope. I'm a healthy boy.

42) A pager?

I'm pretty sure my brothers and sister used to have one of those. I've never used one.

43) A personal phone line?

Those don't exist anymore.

44) A cell phone?

I have a Samsung Galaxy S10.

45) A visible birthmark?

I have a mole on my neck.

46) A pool or hot tub?

Pure salty seaside. Nothing beats it.

47) A car?

Currently, no. Once I get my license I'm planning on getting my brother's old Wolkswagen.

48) Personality?

I am usually very brooding, unless music is involved.

49) Driving?

I haven't gotten my license yet, but I know the basics of driving. My dad taught me.

50) Your clothing style?

Jeans, a shirt, and a hoodie at almost all points in the year. I also like hats.

51) Room?

52) What's missing?

Half my stuff probably, but I try not to look for it as it all wanders back again eventually.

53) Do you like roller coasters?

Oh God, no. I hate those. I actually threw up once.

54) Bed?

I own one, yes.

55) Relationship with your parent(s)?

Pretty good, although there are scuffles every once in a while. Better than most.

56) Do you believe in yourself?

In some areas, yes. In most, I have no reason to.

57) Do you believe in love at first sight?

No, but I do love to have mature arguments with people who do.

58) Consider yourself a good listener?

Most of the time yes.

59) Have a future dream that you would like to share?

Law. Adjourning. Law. Justice.

60) Get along with your parents?

More than ninety-nine percent of the time, honestly.

61) Save your e-mail conversations?

I save those yeah, but mainly for archiving and later use if needed.

62) Pray?

Meh.

63) Believe in reincarnation?

Nope.

64) Brush your teeth twice a day?

Three times usually.

65) Like to talk on the phone?

It's exhausting unless I hear my girlfriend talk. Those are calls worth having.

66) Like to eat?

I eat a lot, but I can't gain weight.

67) Like to exercise?

I go to the gym twice a week usually, but other than that I'm a lazy bum.

68) Like to watch sports?

Yes. Been with Barça in the womb.

69) Sing in the car?

Depends on the songs.

70) What is a dream that you have all the time?

I haven't had a dream in two whole years. Maturing ig.

71) Dream in color?

Idk.

72) Do you have nightmares?

Idk.

73) Sleep with a stuffed animal?

No.

74) What's right next to you?

Sunglasses, Murakami book, Backback, Summer hat.

75) What's on your favorite mug?

One I got from Greece last year that's shaped like a woman in a red bikini.

76) What's on your mouse pad?

I don't own a mouse pad.

77) Your favorite flavor of gum?

Spearmint or Watermelon.

78) Your brand of deodorant?

AXE: Vice

79) Your dream honeymoon spot?

Saint Tropez, which is too much now, but I'm sure I'll be able to financially ensure it in the future.

80) Your dream husband/wife?

Intelligent, nice, likes music, can keep up an actual conversation, similar interests and doesn't have an enormous complex with her ego.

81) What's hiding in your closet?

Nothing to hide. I've cleared out my junk.

82) Under your bed?

A suitcase full of old pictures of relatives I've never met and cassette tapes belonging to my mom.

83) The name of one of your closest/best friends?

Ugh, either Santian or Erion. I can't choose between the two, because I grew up with them both. I'm a tad bit closer to Erion tho.

84) Your bad time of the day?

I'm batman, everyday is gloomy and dark.

85) Your worst fear(s)?

Heights. Shit they scare me.

86) What's the weather like?

Balkan hot, which is so fucking hot.

87) Your favorite time of year?

Spring.

88) Your favorite holiday?

March 9th, international sleep day.

89) A material weakness?

My girlfriend.

90) The weirdest food or drink that you like?

Ermmmmmmmmmmy girlfriend and casserole.

91) At the top of your "to do list"?

Become lawyer.

92) The hardest thing about growing up?

You're more nostalgic and less down to earth, pondering about life being less fun now that you're mature.

93) A pet peeve?

Being the penultimate child of 5 siblings.

94) Your scariest moment?

Whenever I have the gut feeling I've forgotten something that was supposed to be on me.

95) Your attitude about love?

I shouldn't rush it.

96) The funniest or most desperate thing you've done?

Sophmore year, group facetiming a friend as I baited him into a fake girl's ig account and he straight up called me mommy before revealing myself.

97) The worst feeling in the world?

That you've absolutely blown over an argument after carefully crafting it in your head. Ya gotta live with the embarrassment.

98) The best feeling in the world?

Being with my girlfriend.

99) What are you listening to right now?

Stranger In This Town by Richie Sambora

100) Like to travel?

Yep. Might go to Milan for my 18th.

[ayin-me-yesh]

Doing another book review today, this time of When We Were Arabs: A Jewish Family's Forgotten History by Massoud Hayoun.

Hayoun is a Jewish Arab-American, raised by his Tunisian Jewish grandmother and his Egyptian Jewish grandfather, the latter of whom also has ancestral roots in Morocco. Hayoun's family have been in North Africa since before the influx of Sephardim after the Reconquista.

He connects European colonialism in North Africa and Palestine to Zionist colonialism and the anti-Arab racism of European Jews that also impacts Arab Jews like himself. When discussing Palestine, Hayoun is straightforward about the way in which Israel elevates non-European Jews above non-Jewish Palestinians as fellow settlers, while at the same time uplifting European Jews above non-European Jews within the colonial system.

From a historical and political perspective, this book was fantastic and I very much recommend it.

From a personal perspective, it brought up a lot of feelings I have about my disconnection from my family, as well as my uncertainty about the exact origins of my Jewish ancestors on my non-Polish side.

I related to Hayoun's memories of social expectations around hospitality towards guests. The expectation that you should always have tea or coffee and snacks available. The way I'd try to the feed bemused worker setting up our internet connection when I first moved out. And the shame and discomfort I feel when people come over now, even uninvited, and I have nothing to the offer them than some herbal tea out of a coffee mug.

His discussion of his grandfather's superstitions made me think of my dad's warnings not to share any financial windfalls, good fortune, or success outside the home. It made me reconsider the hurt I felt when the Polish-Jewish side of his family shared a newsletter bragging about their kids, and he never shared anything about me in response.

Hayoun also spoke about his family's hidden identities. How they'd claim sometimes to be Christian, and other times Muslim. How for a long time, his grandmother, born and raised in Tunisia, brushed off the notion she was Arab only to reclaim the identity in old age. How his grandparents spoke Arabic to each other, but after 9/11 spoke only French at home. I thought about the complexity of transnational identity in general, and I think in that way, this book would also appeal to other migrants and the children and grandchildren of migrants, trying to carve out their own multinational identities.

[confused-by-time]

Hello this is just me needing to put my thoughts and feelings about my grandmother passing into words and into the world, when I feel like I don’t have anyone to talk too (this is wrong and I know it is wrong, but my head is telling me not to bother my friends and family with this)

Trigger warnings for this rambling is death, cancer, abuse, drug use and mentions of religion and religious doubt

My grandmother on my fathers side died today and I’m heartbroken, my grandmother has been of my grandparents the most important one in my life and also the last of my grandparent I though would die.

She got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in the end of July or beginning of August and the doctors said it seemed small and was caught early so they were hopeful it was treatable. They only found this cancer because my grandmother went to the hospital for lower chest pain which turned out to be a bile leak.

They tried to treat the bile leak with a drain and antibiotics for the infection but they kept sending her home when she had stabilized and every time she was sent home her drain would detach or something causing leaks on the inside or outside, this meant her condition never really improved and her infection never seemed to go away they still tried to put her on chemotherapy but she reacted so badly to this that they stopped.

In the beginning of November she was readmitted to hospital and we were told she most likely had weeks and not months left. She got a morphine pump so she could treat her pain and was moved to hospice quite quickly.

After being moved to hospice she seemed to almost get better for a weeks time and then became worse quickly her mind startet fading and she became confused and scared and at this point when we were told it was close to the end she had not eaten a full proper meal in almost a month and she could no longer get up and use the bathroom. She died today about 4-5 months after her diagnosis and I’m crushed.

My grandmother has always been a sweet and wonderful person and she did not deserve to go this way, she was raised relatively strictly in a highly Christian family and the oldest of 6 sisters. She married my grandfather who was physically abusive to her and her oldest son (my father) I think my uncle the youngest son got beaten less. My grandmother at one point got beaten so bad that she ended in the hospital and my grandfather when to jail for a while (i think) that is when she divorced him and left.

Then she had to watch even if she tried her best to help, but still watch my father become a drug user and almost die from because of this (my father went to rehab and got clean, but he still almost died)

She had, had to overcome so much pain and hardship in her life already and she did not dessverre to die confused and in pain (thankfully she was not alone her husband a wonderful man she met 10-11 years after her divorce had been staying with her in her hospice room the last three days)

My grandmother became like a surrogate mom to my mom and she helped my mom immensely with me when I was little and especially the year I was 10 and my dad was in rehab, she has always been there for me, and my mom and my dad land I can’t imagine a world without her.

I am not personally religious but I know she was and I can not help but be angry at a god I don’t even believe in, if he exists then he’s an ass because my grandmother had suffered enough.

My grandmother walked the pilgrimage of Santiago de Compostela last year the summer of 2023 with her sister, they walked 110 km in five days so she seemed to be a healthy and in shape person and when she died she was 77 which is not that old really.

I’ve been crying on and off since my dad told me and I can’t reconcile with it I know it has happened and it is true but at the same time it doesn’t feel real. And I don’t know how to deal with my feelings.

[totallyhussein-blog]

Reflections on Arab American military experiences

A 1924 study by Princeton professor Philip Hitti found that 13,965 Arab Americans served during World War I. It is estimated as many as 15,000 served during World War II. Countless others served during the Korean conflict and Vietnam War – and most recently in the fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan.

US Marine and translator Rajai Hakki, a Syrian American born in Pennsylvania and raised in Washington DC, wrote in a May 2011 column about the conflicts he faced as an American Arab serving in Iraq and Guantanamo.

“I suddenly realised the misguided nature of our operations in the Middle East since September 11th. I felt horrible,” wrote Hakki. “It hit me like a bullet to the brain: our wars in the Middle East are horrific blunders and we must extract our forces from Iraq and Afghanistan.”

But veterans of earlier conflicts not in the Middle East say while they opposed the Iraq war, they served with dedication.

“At the time I enlisted, I felt that military service was something everyone had to do,” recalled Zyad Hasan, 49, a Palestinian American who served as a reconnaissance scout for a Bradley Tank battalion.

Later, when he was stationed in Germany, a bomb killed two US servicemen and a Turkish woman at the La Belle Disco in West Berlin on April 5, 1986. The entire base was put on alert, Hasan recalled.

“We saw it as terrorism and we were alert. But back then, no one looked at me and questioned my loyalty as an American,” Hasan told Al Jazeera. “I never felt discrimination.”

Like many American Arabs who served in the US military, Hasan said he made it a point after the September 11 attacks, which took nearly 3,000 lives, to tell people he served in the armed forces.

Vietnam veteran Kayed “Edward” Hassan, 69, said he enlisted during the height of the Vietnam War in 1967. “I didn’t feel any discrimination at all during my service, even after the Arab-Israeli wars and the politics of it all,” Hassan told Al Jazeera.

“The other soldiers always respected me as an Arab and as a Muslim,” Hassan said. “I was too busy being an American and an Arab to allow anyone to attack me.”

Both men said the military always accommodated them as Muslims, replacing pork products with beef and chicken.

Devon Akmon, of the Arab American National Museum (AANM), told Al Jazeera the service of his Lebanese immigrant grandparents during World War II brought them together.

“My grandmother was a bomb factory inspector based in Detroit. My grand-dad was on the European front. They were pen pals during the war via the Maronite church, which fostered this type of programme in an effort to keep servicemen’s morale up,” said Akmon, whose father also served in the Vietnam War.

“When my grandfather returned from World War II, their relationship blossomed. For many folks of their time, from immigrant families, there was a sense of ‘this is our country – we are effectively making the ultimate sacrifice to be a part of this country’.”

[meltingheaven27]

An Introduction to Privilege life Roots of me

I came from a privileged family. Both side of my family came from the one who benefitting the era. Let me introduce my roots.

PT B**** and PT P********

This part is my mother side of family. Their story is quite interesting, they live their whole life being a nomad. One born on some place and moving to another. They raised basically everywhere. Like how my aunts and uncles born and raised in different places. Once they lived in North Sumatra near Aceh. Then, they moved to Dumai in Riau for a long time. Then, they moved to Bontang in East Kalimantan due my grandad work that's related to mining/oil, i don't really remember. To move like that, with total of 5 kids and parents (in total 7 people), one province to another province and moving to another island (and it's a rare mobility to get there) it surely a huge privilege. They live a comfort days benefitting the era of New Order. My mom is the first one to move to Jakarta to study in some vocational at the East. She said that she could live comfortably in kos-kosan even though from what i heard it's not the fanciest one (she mentioned how they have to share bathroom per floor). To be able move from Bontang to Jakarta must be cost expensively! second, vocational academy it's not cheap. For today's currency is on 7+11 millions, that must be cost a lot of money for study-living-for fun. She had a lot of entry to mid designers thingy, which of course not cheap. I have a story or two about how they began to fall down, but i can't tell all of them here.

2. Military (**) and Business

This part is my father side of family. I don't exposed much about their story since i don't like them in general (so i usually hide away or not listening in general). Shortly short, my alm. grand father is served in TNI with mid to higher position, which is you know how privileged you are when served to this 'man' (while this 'man' is also rise from the militaru background). They moved to one place to another place too. Both of my grandparents raised in Java, my grandma said that she's come from blue blood of Java (i don't trust her tbh, because i always annoyed when she always ask me to behave like a priyayi). They moved from Java to West Sumatra where they had my dad, and then later they moved to Bali, and their last is in Jakarta at 1970-1980-ish. In Jakarta, my grand father died a little too young that left my grandma a widow. She had a lot of assets, acres of soil in Jakarta-Bekasi, Transportation business (Metromini (?)), and any other thing that i don't really know. My house that i live and writing this was one of her assets, my core family don't own this. Oh, my father is studied at Trisakti, where it's a reputable private university while majoring in Architectural. He used wanting to get in to Parahyangan, where every good Arc produced from there, my grandma get him a after school course preparation to get into there, but failed. The privilege my father has that he drive his car to his campus with a lot of expensive designer clothes and fancy tools for studies.

I didn't realize this after i reached higher education, university year to be exact. Don't get me wrong, my core family is inheriting the privilege. But for only one kid, my oldest brother, before it all went down like hill.

As my oldest brother claimed that he always go to Plaza Senayan to play weird michael jackson space ship thingy, go to Dufan regularly, hang out at Pondok Indah Mall when he was a child. Even mentioned that my core family when were only 3 (dad, mom, and brother) had a house in Jababeka/Cikarang. I cannot believe that we used to have a house or property on our own. But, the house later sold for 'i don't really know' reason.

It's weird to hear all that. When at the same time my mother told that when our family at our worst financial condition, my older brother and i were almost bargained for the friend of mom that is rich and not having a kid.

Me and my older brother not really living in that time where we inheriting the privilege of our grandparents. We just live a life... i don't really know how to describe it though, because for me, it's my normal life.

It's kind of cliffhanger to leave it like this, but that's what i can say and tell.

[dreamboundedstar]

More Bob’s Burgers Headcanons For Tina and Zeke Because Why Not!

Tina: 1. Her full first name is Martina which makes her Martina Ruth Belcher. Linda thought the name Martina was a good idea at the time, until it wasn't. Now she is forever known as Tina except for her birth certificate and other legal documents.

2. Her eyes are blue (I don't care that Tina's eyes were brown in the Archer episode, I'm going with her blue eye color that was revealed in the Bob's Burgers story, "The Makeup".

3. Tina has a hard time with romance at her age because she loves the longing. Even when drama happens in her romance she secretly is okay with the negative outcomes because it fuels her limerence. That's why she struggled with asking Jimmy Jr. to be official with her in the movie. She was so afraid of him saying yes because then things would become real and she wouldn't have her limerance to fall back on anymore once the real Jimmy Jr killed fantasy Jimmy Jr for good. She fears having trouble finding romance in the mundane and never being satisfied because of all the fantasy hours she built up over the years. With Jimmy Jr finding her barrettecklace though, she realizes she's willing to try and move past her limerence because she learns that she can still find romance even in the smallest gestures. It may not be the Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers drama she always wanted, but it was hers and she would be okay with that. 4. Another reason for her limerence is because she fears once things become real for her, they will be gone in an instant once the guy decides she wasn't enough. At least in her fantasy she can believe she will always be enough, the apple of her dream boy's eyes, and she will never have to worry about being tossed aside like trash.

5. After her break up with Jimmy Jr. around the end of high school, she vows to never put in as many fantasy hours for a boy as she did for him at least until she's sure she's safe to do so. She just can't handle that pain anymore. She still will be boy crazy, she just has a limit to how long she will fantasize about her crushes before she dates them now.

6. She has a box full of wedding plans/ideas for herself and her whole family, even Bob and Linda just in case they ever have the money to want to renew their vows with a fancier wedding. Gayle is also included as well. 7. As she gets older, she slowly starts dating more guys against her type of tall, skinny guys with long necks, perfectly shaped butts, and accents because she desperately doesn't want to end up like Gayle all because she had too high standards.

8. Tina's birthday is July 8th, 2008, I will accept nothing else. (Blame the Bob's Burger wiki for saying that it was her birthday! It's gone now but it was there! I refuse to let go that Tina, a character I kin has the same birthday as me! XD) 9. Tina is autistic but undiagnosed. That's not breaking new ground but that's my headcanon. 10. Tina grows up to be the smallest of the Belcher kids. She's slightly smaller than Linda while Gene is his mom's height while Louise is the tallest in between Bob's and Linda's height.

11. When Tina is 16 she will juggle working at her family restaurant, babysitting, and at a book store to afford college or whatever if she decides not to go to college. She has her hands full especially when she still has two more years of school.

Zeke: 1. Zeke's full name is Ezekiel Anthony Connor. 2. His birthday is March 11th, 2008 ( March 11th is the release date of "The Belchies", Zeke's first appearance. I couldn't use Bobby Tisdale's birthday because I couldn't find it so this was the next best thing). 3. Zeke's grandma's name is Daniella and his grandpa was named Anthony. 4. He was raised mostly by his grandparents until his grandpa died and his grandma couldn't take care of him anymore and had to be put in a home. 5. Curt from Bob's flashback in "Two for Tina" is Zeke's 44-year-old brother (assuming it's a half-brother) because I think it's funny and they share a voice actor. 6. Zeke's dad is a con artist that sells cheaply made crap of all kinds and that's why they moved around a lot. Zeke's dad would be good at what he does since it is revealed he owns a jacuzzi tub in "Tina and the Real Ghost". Though he could be bad at it and just squanders his money anyway instead of providing for his kid. 7. Zeke's mom was held back 4 times in school (if Harold from Hey Arnold can do it then so can she lol). She was 21 when she went to prom and was pregnant with Zeke. Still creepy as heck for a hypothetical 46-year-old to impregnate a 21 to 22-year-old, but not illegal. (I'm assuming Curt was born when Zeke's dad was 15 to be generous) 8. Zeke was an unwanted pregnancy. I can see Zeke's mom as a gold digger that was tricked into thinking Zeke's dad was more wealthy than he actually was. Zeke's mom wanted the easy way out because she was doing terribly in school and thought Zeke's dad could be her way in. She got pregnant by accident and neither of them was ready for it. Zeke's parents got married and tried to make it work but they just didn't work as a couple. Zeke's dad got more custody than Zeke's mom in the divorce because he seemed slightly more stable at the time.

9. Before Cheryl, not a day went by without Zeke's dad making Zeke feel like a screw-up. No matter how much he tries to help with his dad's business, it's never enough. 10. Zeke's relationship with his mom is not much better. She acts like she loves him but he can tell she's only doing what she thinks a mother is supposed to do and going through the motions. He can't help but feel that all she can see in him was her own mistakes. He still tries to see the best in both of his parents because he would go insane otherwise. 11. Zeke's grandparents were the few good role models in Zeke's home life. Cheryl, Zeke's stepmom later on would help get his dad's act together and Zeke will be forever grateful to her for that. She still has an issue with alcohol and is a shopaholic, but she is more present in Zeke's life than his bio mom is. 12. Zeke gets his love language from his grandparents. 13. Zeke has undiagnosed ADHD which explains his impulse control problem and why he gets bored very easily in "Tina and the Real Ghost".

14. Zeke grows up to be as tall as Bob but still shorter than Jimmy Jr. He's still stocky but his muscles balance out his stocky physique. He doesn't have a problem with being a big guy and is comfortable with himself. Just don't ask him why he's been putting more on his glutes lately because you won't get an answer. Definitely doing it for himself and not for anybody else yes siree bob. 15. At 16, Zeke would volunteers to help cover for Tina at Bob's Burgers during the times she's doing either at her book store job or babysitting job. 16. Zeke has green eyes.

Anyway, that's all. I tried to do more headcanons for them as characters rather shippy headcanons. Though a bit slipped through the cracks for both of them. Here's the height chart to compare the heights.

(Blue Bob is supposed to be Jimmy Sr Pesto's height but I guess like the show I'm trying to erase the character's existence on a subconscious level. XD)

Figures come from here. http://www.mrinitialman.com/OddsEnds/Sizes/compsizes.xhtml

When I think I'm done with the headcanons they just keep coming for some reason. Fingers crossed that I'm not too off base when it comes to Zeke's family. I'm basically placing my bets that his bio parents are terrible people and only his grandparents and Cheryl were good to him. I would hate to be eating crow later. XD

[writingwithcolor]

Hi, thank you all so much for running this blog--I was hoping I could get your feedback on a Jewish MC. The crux of my question is whether I, a gentile, would be out of line depicting her experiencing internalized discrimination from her own father (who in my first draft was Catholic, but I think that will be changing to a TBD protestant denomination).

The backstory I have for her right now is that her mother is Jewish and places great value on the history and culture of being Jewish, but is not a particularly religious person. Her daughter refers to her as having sometimes attended events at a local reform synagogue and making note of the high holidays but she is, overall, not someone with strict religious observances of any kind, and for a long time she and her husband (raised Christian but deeply agnostic) raise their daughter on the idea that it's important to understand where she and her family come from but that how she ultimately pursues faith--whatever that faith may be--is up to her. Both parents introduce her to the stories and lessons they grew up with but don't pressure her to attend religious events, etc. unless she has a personal, independent interest in doing so. For the first 16 or so years of her life this is how she's raised and her family is stable and her parents seem deeply in love. So far beta readers from households with one Jewish and one Christian parent have told me this backstory seems fine to them, though I welcome any feedback you have, too.

What I'm most concerned about, though, is when she's a teen and her parents divorce. Right now I have the reason for their divorce as being that they fell out because her dad becomes a bit of a Christian zelot and becomes less and less respectful of his wife's religion and background as he gets deeper into this mindset. The reason he becomes like that is essentially that when 9/11 happens MCs mother, who grew up with the story of how her grandparents fled from the Soviet Union because of religious discrimination under Stalin, only narrowly managing to immigrate as far as the US before the breakout of WWII, powerfully empathizes with the people suffering from the horrible rise of Islamophobia we saw in 2001-2002. Her husband, on the other hand, does what I saw a lot of people in my family and community do and becomes increasingly religiously conservative as a reaction the percieved "threat" of the Islamic world. (This is all clearly identified in the book as his being in the wrong.) One of the ways this manifests is that he starts pressuring his daughter, the MC, to attend church services with him and become Christian. His rationale is that he just wants what's best for his daughter--to be "saved."

MC's mother has no tolerance for that crap, as she shouldn't, so they fight quite a bit going forward and eventually separate. Mom gets custody of the MC.

While her father never says anything openly antisemitic--implying those ideas but never stating them explicitly--he does respond to 16 yr. old MC basically asking him if he would still love her if she pursued her mom's faith by saying some bullshit along the lines of "well honey I just love you and want the best for you," as his answer. She never says to him that she's cutting him out, but after this moment she's never close to her father again and by the time the main narrative takes place 10 years later, she hasn't spoken to him since she was 21.

This backstory helps build a foundation for a lot of themes for the MC in terms of different ways alienation manifests in her life, how she trusts, and what we can and cannot forgive our parents for, so I like it from a narrative standpoint, but I would deeply appreciate your feedback on whether writing this kind of experience for a Jewish character is inappropriate for me to be doing. And, if not, do you have any suggestions on ways to modify this backstory, or would you recommend scrapping it entirely? Thank you so much.

Interfaith family broken up when Dad becomes a jerk and a bigot

A difficult situation definitely but I don’t have a problem with the setup. If this isn’t based on your own observations, it’s probably a good idea to get a beta reader with experience around bigots of the same stripe as Dad to make sure the awful stuff Dad says uses word choices and ideas that feel authentic. If that IS your experience I am so very sorry and I hope you have other wonderful people in your life to make up for it. 

--Shira This seems very well planned, and thought out. It's also very real, and will be an emotional read I'm sure. As long as your character isn't forced to give up her Jewishness because of her father, and provided that you are careful during fight scenes between the parents earlier in the work (to ensure that the mom doesn't end up seeming like the Shrill Jewish Woman stereotype), I think you are on solid ground. Good luck!

--Dierdra

Also, I just caught that you said "internalized discrimination" from her dad -- that's not what internalized discrimination means. Internalized discrimination is when someone is feeling negatively about their own group, because they've absorbed bigoted ideas from outside. Discrimination from someone who isn't yourself isn't called “internalized” even when it comes from someone as close as a parent. But that's just a little language correction.

--Shira

Oh no, this backstory is so sad! I hope your MC has a happy ending with some very mutually supportive relationships.

I agree that this shouldn't be a problem as long as you take care to avoid stereotypes on a more micro level in specific scenes. As for the overall idea, nothing jumping out at me. You've clearly put so much effort into creating a believable background for your character and its influence on her current psyche - that gives me confidence that you will write humanised characters rather than falling back on tropes!

Also, don't know if you knew this but something to note with interfaith families: if MC's mother is Jewish, she is a Jew in Jewish law. It doesn't matter what she believes or practises or how she was brought up. (I don't say this to invalidate patrilineal Jews or oppose anyone self-identifying the way they want, but just halachically. You should be aware that many more religious Jews will consider her that way.)

Good luck with your story! I would read this 😌

--Shoshi

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

It Takes A Village Chapter 3

Chris Evans x Pregnant!Daughter!Reader

Series Master List

Series summary: You find out that your pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?

Chapter Summary: You go to your first ultrasound.

Series warning: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.

Chapter warnings: swearing, teen pregnancy, terrible explanation of a ultrasound and pregnancy doctor appointment.

Y/n means your name...

Oh and I changed the divider to that bunny instead of the other one. It'll still go back and forth between Blue and pink like I had planned on doing.

You sat in the backyard watching dodger run around while your thought. You obviously have to tell everyone now, you'll probably tell  your aunts and uncles first, then your grandparents. First, you had to wait for your appointment which Chris had scheduled for the next day. Just to make sure you and the baby were okay. Chris had let on a little bit about his excitement to be a grandfather, telling you how he was gonna spoil them. He also told you he was going to try and find some of your old baby clothes for your baby.

"Y/n." Chris said poking his head out through the door, you looked at him curiously.

"Yes dad?" You asked him.

"Lunch. Dodger!" He hollered for dodger while you snuck past him to the table to eat. Dodger ran passed him and followed you in. "Okay sweetpea we need to talk about the baby." Chris said as he sat at the table across from him.

"What about the baby?" You asked.

"You should name him after me." He jokes.

"What if they are a girl?" You asked him letting out a small laugh.

"Name them Chris with a K." He said. You laughed.

"Dad. I'm not naming my baby Chris or Chris with a K. No matter the gender. One Chris is enough." You rolled your eyes taking a bite of the sandwich he had made you.

"Okay fine. But we do need to talk about something." He said.

"About what?" You asked him.

"You have to go to school your currently not enrolled at any school and that can cost us a fine." He told you. You nodded following along to what he was saying. "So I'm enrolling you into the public school over here." He said.

"Okay... But what about the baby? I'm gonna end up showing eventually I doubt a bunch of high schoolers are gonna keep the fact that Chris Evans' daughter is pregnant." You said.

"You weren't going to be able to keep this a secret forever." He reminded.

"I guess.. So when do I start?" You asked.

"Next Monday." He said. You nodded. "So back onto the baby name."

"Dad I'm not going to start thinking about baby names till I know the gender." You said rolling your eyes at him.  

"That's what me and your mom did." He gave you a small smile thinking back to how excited he was finding out he was going to have a baby girl.

"Really?" You asked him taking another bite of your sandwich.

"Yeah. After your moms great grandma." He explain eating his own sandwich. Dodger sat on next to you trying to catch some food.

"Cool. So Dad if your gonna keep saying names for the baby I think I should remind you that your gonna need to decide your Grandpa name." You said smiling at him. You haven't felt this relax just joking with someone in a few months since school was stressing you out, then you found out your pregnant so you haven't had a second to just relax and joke around in a while so this was nice.

"What about ole pappy Chris?" Chris joked. You shook your head laughing.

"No how about Gramps."

"That makes me sound old." He said laughing.

"But ole pappy Chris doesn't?" You raised an eye brow. You both broke into laughs. "Okay okay fine maybe papa C?" You said laughing more.

"No."

"Opa?" You threw another name out.

"Hmm?"

"German for grandpa."

"We're not German."

"Oh yeah." You said taking a bite of your sandwich. "Fine you pick one dad."

"I don't know. Just let the kid decide." He said smiling.

"Okay." You said.

"That's okay Bubba. Remember you have that appointment tomorrow." He remind eating his sandwich.

"Yeah. Will you be allowed to come in with me?" You asked him.

"I think it's just an ultrasound so probably, still nervous about the doctors?" He asked remembering how when you were younger you hated the doctors, it got better over time though.

"Yeah.. And this is a different kind of appointment. It's not just a checkup I'm going to be seeing my baby. Dad that wasn't supposed to happen till I was in my twenties." You sighed leaning on the table.

"Hey we talk about this bubba you can't change it now, so just be happy your gonna have a baby. I miss having a tiny you running around in only diaper cause you refused to put clothes on." He said smiling.

"Daad." You whined laughing.

"It's true." He said smiling standing up with his now empty paper plate. He walked over to you placing a kiss on the top of your head before making his way to the kitchen. You sighed looking down at your belly.

"This definitely isn't how I planned to spend high school." You whispered.

---

You sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office nervously bouncing your leg. You looked around to see other expecting mothers talking to the person they brought along for their own appointments, some were their spouses, some were their kids, some brought both. You sat leaning against Chris looking up at him. He gave you a reassuring smile. He remembers sitting in a waiting room similar to this one with your mom excited to see you for the first time in your moms belly.

"Y/n Evans?" A nurse called you both looked up and began to walk to her.  You guys made it in to the room where the ultrasound would be taking place. "Okay honey I'm just going to check on everything with your and the baby then we'll start the ultrasound." The nurse explain as you sat on the bed, your dad waited outside the room per request of the nurse. "Is the baby's dad on the way?" The nurse asked you trying to make conversation as she began to check on everything.

"No." You shook your head.

"Okay sweetie so how far along do you think you are?" She asked you.

"Probably a two weeks but I'm not too sure." You said watching as she listened for the baby's heart beat.

"Okay." She move the stethoscope to listen to your heart beat. "Okay I think we're ready for the ultrasound. Do you want your dad to come in for it?" She asked you. You nodded without hesitation. She let him in and he found as spot to stand next to the bed where you were sat. "Okay lift your shirt just above your stomach and lay back please." She smiled at you before grabbing the cream to put on your stomach.

You did as told then looked at your dad for reassurance he gave you the reassuring smile he had been giving you since you made it to Boston. "Your got this bubba." He whispered. You squirmed and giggled as the nurse put the cold liquid on your stomach making you look back at her. She used the machine.

"Okay... It looks like your are 8 weeks along, and a estimated due date would be sometime in November. The baby looks healthy there's not much to go by right now since it's still quite early in the pregnancy." She explained, you looked up at the screen seeing blobs on the screen. You couldn't help the smile that came to your face. "Any questions?" She asked you.

"Uh when can I find the gender out?" You asked.

"Around 14 weeks but it isn't a hundred percent positive that early on I'd recommend waiting till around 18 weeks." She said.

"Okay!"

"Okay. So the receptionist will help you set up another appointment for when your around 11 weeks." She said beginning to wipe the gel off your stomach. "But right now Mom and baby are healthy." She said directing that more to your dad then you as you pulled your shirt back down.

"Thank you." You and your dad said before leaving the office. You and your dad made it to the front desk and scheduled your next appointment. He let you do most of it just standing there to help if you needed it.

Taglist: @toastisgood @coldmuffinpartycloud

@thevelvetseries

[purplesurveys]

1492

If you’re pale, do you get made fun of for it?: Nopes, I’m not pale at all.

Are you white/black/asian/mexican/etc?: Asian.

How old are your parents?: My dad is 51; my mom is turning the same age but in September.

Did your family move to America from another country?: Not my immediate family, but I have sooooooooo manyyyyyyy relatives who’ve moved to a number of countries, not just US. Filipinos do tend to migrate often, so it’s not surprising to me.

Have you ever been to any other countries? If so, where and for how long?: Yeah, I’ve been to other Asian countries. The longest I’ve stayed was for around a week or so, in Indonesia. I’ve also had a week-long East Asian cruise but my entire time had been split into day-trips in Korea and Japan so I don’t think that counts.

Ever been to Washington D.C.? Did you get to meet the president of the time?: I have not been to Washington DC and the US as a whole, and have met zero presidents.

Have you seen Fahrenheit 9/11?: Idek what that is.

Ever been to NYC Or LA? If so, how were your experiences there?: I’ve been to neither city.

Ever known anyone who did business with a prostitute?: Not that I know of, at least.

Are your real parents divorced? If your parents are divorced, how old are your step parents? Do you like your step parents, or are they assholes?: They aren’t. We don’t even have divorce in this country so it’s not like that’s a choice they have if they ever wanted to head down that path.

Were you adopted? If so, have you met your biological parents? How about biological siblings or grandparents?: I’m not adopted.

Ever had an abusive parent or other family member? If so, what’s the worst they did?: Yeah, well there had definitely been emotional, mental, and verbal abuse especially during my formative years, which I’ll always feel resentful about. My mom never minced her words with me when I was a child, so I was already hearing a lot of hurtful things at a young age; and words stick, so I carry them with me to this day. There was also the time she stole and went through my diary; times when she would purposely bump into me whenever she was mad at me; times she’d slam the door (to this day, I hate the sound regardless if it was an accident); times when I got compared to other kids; there was even a time she stalked my schoolbus.

I genuinely feared I was going to end up being a huge fuckup because of all the trauma. But I’m here now and I’m doing surprisingly ok, so I just try not to dwell too much on the past.

Got any step siblings? If so, how many? Are they annoying or cool?: No, I don’t have any step- or half-siblings.

Are either of your parents engaged but not married yet?: They’re married to each other and have been for the last 25 years.

Do you think it’s silly for grown adults to still be dating around?: No? The answer is already in your question – they’re adults, they can do whatever they want with their dating/love/sex/whatever life.

Ever walked in on your parents while they were getting busy? If so, how many times and how old were you?: No. I will say though that I’ve probably heard them in the middle of something, embarrassingly enough.

How many siblings do you have? How old are they, and what are their names? Do they have the same hair color and eye color as you?: I have two siblings; one is turning 22 and the other 19. We all have the same hair color and eye color, as with all Filipinos.

Do you like older or younger siblings better?: I’m the eldest. I’ve never known what it’s like to have an older sibling, hahaha.

Ever had to take care of a baby sibling? If do, did you feel responsible, or were you just annoyed?: No, only because we’re so close in age that when they were kids I had been a kid too. I’ve taken care of younger cousins though, which I’ve always enjoyed. I like kids and apparently they like me, so it’s all always worked out.

Do you like children, or do they piss you off?: Kids with an attitude piss me off and it’s usually easy to tell when they’re raised by parents who let them get away with everything. In general though, I’m usually fine with most kids. Think you’ll ever have kids of your own one day?: I’m hopeful. But I don’t know if it will ever happen.

Have you ever had a close friend get knocked up early?: No, not close friends but I do have a few schoolmates who had kids after high school/during college.

Have you yourself ever gotten close to getting pregnant?: Nopes.

If you were to get pregnant as a teen, what would happen?: I would’ve kept it. As for what would’ve most likely happened after that...idk. I’d like to imagine I would’ve sought help from my family to raise the baby.

Do you know if anyone in your family ever got knocked up as a teen?: No, I don’t think it’s ever happened in the family.

Do you prefer baby boys or baby girls?: Just a healthy, happy, baby. < This is a good, serious answer and when it boils down to it this is what I’d say. But if I was being picky, I prefer girls lol.

Know anyone your age who sucks on a pacifier for fun?: Oh wow, no.

Enough about babies; what’s your favorite color? Own anything special that’s your favorite color?: Pastel pink. Yeah, a lot of things.

Do you prefer black or white?: Black.

Do you have a favorite number? What is it?: 7.

Do you have a favorite letter?: Nopes.

Are you one of those losers that buys things with the letter of your name?: Why would that make anyone a loser? Lmao but no, I don’t.

Do you label people at school based on their appearance?: It happened internally sometimes, but I never let it interfere with what I ultimately think of them or how I’d interact with them.

[noirapocalypto]

5, 7, 9, 10 and 11 for Renato, Paolo and Embry?🥺💚

Thank you!! 💕@faepunkprince

From this OC Interview game.

5. What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?

Renato: "I know it's probably a generic answer, but I like working out and keeping myself in good shape. But other than that, I enjoy spending time with my family or my friends, or just binge watching TV at home."

Paolo: "When I'm not hanging out somewhere with the gang, I'm probably lounging about at home, playing some videogames. A good way to keep me entertained for hours on end."

Embry: "I like to tinker. If I can find some junk laying around, I enjoy taking it apart, figuring out how it works and trying to fix it. I've been working on this busted radio I found the other day, I'm so close to getting it up and running. I also like videogames too, and I like playing with Paolo when I'm crashing at his place. Also, puzzles of any kind. I get lost in those things. I used to always do puzzles with grandma. She used to tell me it kept the mind sharp."

7. Who do you look up to?

Renato: "My uncle Pepe. He was my father figure, the one I could always turn to when I needed a father's love. He's a good family man too. He's the type of man what I want to be like, if I ever decide to settle down and start my own. Pepe has seen me at my worst and he still decided I was worth the love and compassion he showed when he took me in. I'll never forget that."

Paolo: "Both of my parents. But if I had to pick one, I would say my dad. From what I remember of him, he had the same sense of humor as I did. I guess that's where I get it. He was always laughing, always cracking jokes and could find fun anywhere he went. He was just so fun and lively. I guess that's why I'm the way I am, just trying to keep that part of him with him. I think we would have gotten along if he was still alive. I think we would have had a lot of fun together."

Embry: "Can I pick two? My grandparents, without a doubt. They raised me well, raised me to be a proper gentleman to everyone. They were warm and kind, everyone loved them. I always tried to do right by them, and I hope I'm still making them proud."

9. Are you a spiritual person?  If yes, what do you practice?

Renato: "Not really, no. I mean, I think there might be something out there, something bigger than the rest of us. But I don't stress myself too much about it. My family is though, so whenever they want to do a little prayer for me, or read my cards or light a candle for me, I won't say no to it."

Paolo: "No, I'm not. Nothing has happened in either mine or my sister's lives that gave us any faith that there's more to life than what we're dealt with. If there is something out there pulling the strings, kinda fucked up that they did us dirty like that."

Embry: "I don't put much thought into it, but I do think there's some bigger force kinda nudging us to where we need to be, at times. I don't know if I consider that spiritual though. But I do think something has put in me in places that I need to be at that very instant, and has lead me to meet people that I cherish."

10. Where were you born?  Where did you grow up?  Where do you live now?

Renato: "I was born in Nevada, but we didn't last there very long. We moved to Night City when I was still a toddler. Been living here ever since."

Paolo: "Night City, born and raised. Still live here too. Tried getting out once, but NC pulled me back in. Kinda fucked, really."

Embry: "I was born in somewhere near Atlanta. I know we stayed in Georgia for a while before my clan moved on. We normally lingered around the Southern regions before we migrated over to the west coast when I was in my mid twenties. I pretty much live in Night City now. I don't have a permanent place for myself, so I rotate in between my pals and crash at their place."

11. What is your favorite type of media (TV, movie, books, etc)?  Name some specific favorites (which shows, movies, books, etc do you like)!

Renato: "I like TV shows, I often binge watch in one sitting if I can, especially when I have time off from work. I know I basically live through this shit a lot, but I like crime dramas. You know that old ass show Breaking Bad? Still holds up."

Paolo: "I'm gonna have to say movies are probably my go-to. I like horror stuff, things that make me shit my pants and not want to sleep alone. Don't care much for slasher stuff though, gimme those ghosties and ghoulies. I like the Conjuring series. The first one was dope as hell."

Embry: "I'm good with anything really. While I prefer TV and movies, I was pretty much raised on books considering my lifestyle. I like fantasy--like dragons, wizards and all that. I love the Lord of the Rings series, both the books and the movies. When I was a kid, someone told me it was 'too advanced' for me, implying I was too stupid to get it. I believed them for a while until I finally worked up the courage to read the books. I proved them wrong."

[kittybellestark]

Back To The Beginning

This one shot literally took so long to write but I’m glad it’s finally finished. I didn’t think I’d ever get it done i stg. Basically Peter starts to remember his parents. 

TW: Panic Attack, Blood, speaking about experimentation/torture.

“Tony, I need your help!!”

It’s 11:00pm on a non-patrol night. Peter is supposed to be in his apartment, it’s not the weekend so he definitely isn’t supposed to be here at night. Tony felt the anxiety build inside of him. hearing Peter ask for help was nearly unheard of, and for him to make an appearance at the lab this late at night was only something he did when injured too badly. This was unusual.

Looking up at Peter, Tony see’s he looks relatively not injured. Though Peter’s look is a cause for concern. He’s wearing pajamas and his face is red. Peter’s still wearing slippers and it’s obvious that he doesn’t have a wallet on him, only his phone. Which means Peter walked to the tower from Queens -as his webshooters are not on his wrists- but he most likely ran, judging by his red face and the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

Tony was quick to move, getting Peter to sit down and drink water. The boys eyes were wide and frightened.

“Okay you’re going to think I’m insane because I think I’m insane but I promise this is real and I need help. Something is suspicious about May. And me. And my parents. Something is wrong Tony. I don’t think I’m unsafe but there’s something wrong here.”

“Start from the beginning kiddo. Keep your breathing easy. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.”

Peter nodded. He looked ready to cry. He was obviously exhausted and Tony was trying to keep his cool from Peter bringing up May and how he’s suspicious of her. Peter was his kid and Tony would do anything to keep him safe.

“Right, yeah. So remember our talk last week, the one where I sorta told you I perceive you in a father figure way and then you saying you kinda think of me as a son? Well I talked to May about it because I felt guilty. Like I had a dad and an uncle who raised me and it just feels selfish and I just needed extra reassurance okay. And May was upset. And she said that it wasn’t fair to my father especially considering he died recently.” Peter paused. “My dad died when I was 6, Ben died just over a year ago and I know she didn’t get them confused.”

Tony went to talk, to reassure Peter or to comfort him but Peter kept going.

“I thought she was just confused. But then I found some pictures of when my parents were alive. And May and Ben were never there. I can find pictures of places they said I was with them and only them, but then the pictures are with my parents. So I did had Ned hack into my grandparents old medical files. Richard and Mary were both only children. Ben is not related to Richard. There’s no adoption forms or anything. So technically May and Ben aren’t my aunt and uncle right?”

“Pete-“

“No Tony, listen. There’s more. May and Ben always pushed for me to work at Oscorp right? That’s where my parents worked so it makes sense. But May had pushed it more since the spider bite which doesn’t make sense, even pushing it even though you’re a Stark and obviously I’m going to work at SI when I’m older. It doesn’t make sense. But I was thinking it’s a legacy thing. But no.

“It doesn’t make sense that I don’t remember anything before my parents died. Doctor’s said it was the trauma of my parents dying. But I was six I couldn’t have really understood that. Unless something also happened to me, which brings me to my next big woah moment. MJ has been having me meditate recently because it’s good for my mental health and whatnot. And I remember being on an airplane with my parents. There’s no evidence that I was ever on an airplane, except before I was six years old. But there’s a ticket under my name for the same day my parents died. And if I go into the airport security cameras on that day I am there. You can see me boarding the plane. So how could I live through a plane crash and not my parents. That doesn’t make sense, especially seeing as my whole life I was told I was staying with May and Ben when my parents died.

“Tony, none of this adds up. And let’s just circle back to the spider bite. That should have killed me. It would have killed any other human. To have lived through the bite I would have had to had been altered or experimented on to work genetically with the spiders they were using. That’s the only way I wouldn’t have died. Which means Oscorp knows about me being Spider-Man, which makes sense because they’ve approached me multiple times since gaining my powers to intern there, even before I met you.

“Something is really wrong, Tony. And I need help.”

Tony agreed to help Peter. Of course he did. The duo researches Mary and Richard Parker and then they research May and Ben Parker. May and Ben never existed before they took custody of Peter. Everything Peter said was backed up. There was evidence for everything.

Peter’s life no longer made sense and Tony feared for his sons safety.

“I���m not comfortable with you going home, kid. None of this adds up.”

Peter leaned forward resting against the work table nodding along to what Tony said. He wasn’t very comfortable either. How could he go home knowing his whole life has been a lie.

“I’ll stay tonight, but I have to go back. We need more proof. Maybe we can get a DNA sample from May.”

Huffing in frustration, Tony pinches the bridge of his nose feeling at a loss.

“When you go back home I’m going to give you some stuff to set up around your room. It’ll activate every time May walks in there, record what she’s doing and saying. It’ll alert me if she does anything to you. I’ll also talk to my lawyers.”

The next day Tony unwillingly brought Peter back home. With a bag full of bugs and cameras, all directly linked to FRIDAY who will tell Tony as soon as anything remotely suspicious were to happen. Peter was well aware of exactly where to put each microphone and camera and that they would only be activated with May’s presence. 

Leaving Peter alone with May, felt impossible. Tony’s chest felt tight with anxiety, worried that this would be a bad idea, that his kid would wind up hurt in the end. Peter being left to May when the facts didn’t add up. Everything was a little too off yet so well put together with their small family that it seemed like a gust of wind could bring it all toppling to the ground. 

From there is took a few hours before May got back to her apartment, then a little while later before she started talking about Peter’s future with Oscorp. At the end of the week Peter finally told Tony that he had a DNA sample from May. 

As Peter entered the lab, toothbrush in hand, Tony had everything set up, FRIDAY ready to go through every person who has ever given DNA ever to find out who May is.

“What if I was kidnapped as a child?” 

“Then the two of us figure it out. We do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Tony wraps his arms around Peter, letting the teen rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Boss, I found a match, would you two like to hear?” FRIDAY finally said after an agonizing fifteen minutes.

Tony looked towards Peter, waiting for confirmation before answering. Peter stared at Tony, mouth open clearly hesitating about what to do. After a beat Peter finally nodded, and Tony gave FRIDAY the go-ahead. 

“May Parker has a 100% DNA match to Mary Parker. I do apologize Peter, but it seems May is actually your mother.” 

Everything went silent at that for Peter. His ears were ringing and the world went all fuzzy. He blinked back tears before taking a deep breath and nodding. Tony held both of Peter’s shoulders, keeping him grounded. 

“Oh god, oh man, she lied to me. She lied a lot. She can’t be- she can’t. Tony, Tony, my whole life. She faked her death. And then got custody as me, and told me she’s my aunt. Oh no, that means Ben was probably- that I watched, Tony she said my Dad died recently, Tony I watched him get murdered. They lied to me. They lied.”

Tony pulled Peter into his arms, bringing the two of them to the ground. Peter ended up in Tony’s lap, head in the crook of his mentors shoulders. Tony started to rock the two of them, hoping to bring the sobbing boy some comfort.

~~~~~~

A week after finding out May was technically his biological mother, the nightmares set in for Peter. Well, more like repressed memories coming to him when he sleeps, but nightmares nonetheless. It was already a battle to get Tony to agree to let Peter go home, with promises that he would soon talk to May. Going to Tony about this now would only lead to Peter never going home. 

Sleeping was hard though. Memories of being moved from facility to facility with Mary and Richard strapping him down and taking needles to his skin, injecting him with things that burned, that were so hot but also so cold. Watching Richard take a scalpel to his body, seeing Mary break his bones. Having his parents shock him until he tasted blood.

It wasn’t right. Peter knew it wasn’t right. He stops other parents from doing this to their kids. And now he’s here. He know’s he went through it, the abuse. But that was Mary and Richard. Not May and Ben. They may be the same, but the abuse, it hasn’t been since they started lying to him. Not since they pretended that Peter wasn’t their son. They’ve not hurt him like that since they faked their own death.

And yet Oscorp has been up his ass since Spider-Man. Doubled down since May found out. He’s been followed by people who may have put it together. Who may know his actual identity. 

Peter know’s he should go to Tony. He know’s he should talk to May. Peter is acutely aware that he is an abused child. That his parents abused him. experimented on him. He shouldn’t have lived through the spider bite, not without previous experimentation. He’d be dead if it wasn’t for Mary and Richard or May and Ben, whoever they were. They saved his life with what they did.  

But what if this was Ned’s life? Or MJ’s? OR Betty’s? Or even Flash? If this was literally anyone else’s life Peter wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let them think that everything was okay in their life. He would talk them out of it. He would support them and help them find other options. But this is his life. And now it’s different. And it shouldn’t be. Spider-Man stops this from happening to other children. Stops the abuse, helps get them into good homes. Yet Peter Parker isn’t doing anything for himself because as far as he’s aware it’s in the past. 

Now Peter is sitting inside a restaurant with May. They’re supposed to be having dinner together. But he needs to know. He has questions and he wants the answers. His phone is on his lap recording, and he that Tony has Happy tailing him, which means he’s right outside if anything happens. 

“So, uh, you know that MJ and I have been meditating together right? She says it’s good for people’s mental health and can help then deal with some personal stuff.” Peter starts saying once the food has arrived. May nods. “Well, I think it’s working. Which is great but I’m remembering some weird things from when Mary and Richard were alive.”

May raised her eyebrow, taking a think before she answers, the fork she was hold with chicken on the end twirling in the air. 

“Are you sure about that Pete? I mean not to say I don’t believe you but the doctors have said it’s extremely unlikely that you’ll ever regain your memories from when your parents were alive. Are you sure you’re actually remember and not just creating these stories in your head about them again?”

“Wait what? Creating stories- again? May, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, honey. Please don’t tell me you repressed this. When you were you younger you created this whole story about how Mary and Richard would hurt you and take your blood and it was horrible. You worked yourself up into such a frenzy about it that Ben and I had to put you in a hospital to help you. You were in the hospital for months. Do you not remember that?” Peter shook his head. “Honey, if what you remember of your parents is them experimenting on you or whatever convoluted thing you made up then we need to get you some more help.”

Peter was confused. He didn’t remember May and Ben shipping him away. There’s no memory of going to a hospital or saying that his parents hurt him. Peter was sure that never happened. It couldn’t have. And for May to know what Peter was going to his what his memories were. That’s wrong. She knows. She knows.

“I ran a DNA test. I know you’re actually Mary.”

May or Mary whoever she is dropped her fork, her face showing her surprise. 

“Peter, baby, I don’t know where you got that idea from but I’m not Mary, I’m not your mother. I don’t know how you made up this story now but you’re wrong. Get up Peter. We’re going to go get you some help.”

Heartbreaking, Peter felt his family shatter. For the first time in Peter’s life he looked at May and saw a stranger. To tell him he’s making this all up, that he needs help. She’s never done this before. May- Mary- May, she’d never make him feel like he was a liar. Peter had always felt validated by her. May didn’t even do this when Peter went to her about Skip. 

May got up from the table grabbing Peter by his arm and trying to pull him up with her. Peter continued to stay seated, refusing to go with her. Wanted to finish this conversation before this family ended. 

“Sit the fuck down, Mary. I’m not done yet.” Peter heard himself spit out, voice feeling detached. 

Mary sat down across from her son, a scowl set on her face. Food forgotten, her foot tapping. 

“I was on that plane too. I remember being there. There was never a May and Ben Parker before then. Don’t play dumb with me either, Mom, I go to the best school in New York that works in conjunction with the best colleges in the country. I have an internship with a certified genius and have helped develop products at SI, and regularly work with the top three smartest people in the world, and they don’t dumb things down so I can understand. I can keep up with them and I make them see things they didn’t before. I’ve corrected Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Don’t tell me I’m crazy.”

The two stayed silent staring at each other. The server came around to check in and they only nodded. After ten minutes Mary finally broke the silence. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Why did you fake your death, create identities that are literally related to me, but not fake my death? You told me you were dead for years. Why?” 

“It was the only way to protect you without ruining your life. I did what I had to do.” Mary’s voice was cold in a way that Peter hasn’t heard since he was young, and strapped to a table.

“How could you ever protect me when you were to the one to hurt me. You and Richard. You strapped me to a table, poked me with needles, injected me with experimental drugs, broke my bones and cut me open and shocked me when I didn’t do what you wanted me too. I was a child and you tortured me.”

“You think I wanted to? You’re my baby. I didn’t want to do those things, but I had too.”

“Why?”

“Peter, we’re done, we’re going.”

“Not until you answer me.”

“We’re leaving.”

“Answer me, Mary.”

“Oscorp. Norman Osborn. That’s why.”

Peter nodded. It was what he was expecting. Of course he was. He just wanted it to be different. He wanted Mary to say anything else. But it was her job. She got paid to do those things to him. Mary could have said no, could have quit her job. Richard too. They could have done something. Anything. 

It was a choice. They chose their jobs over him. They valued Peter as a lab rat, and their job as their child. Peter wasn’t important. Not to Mary, not to Richard. Not in the way he should have been.

“Alright.” Peter said. “I can’t go home with you. I can’t trust you anymore. I’m sorry Mary, but this just isn’t working with us anymore. Someone will be in contact.”

They made eye contact again. And Peter finally stood up. He tapped a button on the watch he was given from Tony, only tapped it once, to let Happy know he needs a ride, to let Tony know he needs him. His phone went into his pocket.

Just as his back turned to Mary, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was the sound of gun being cocked behind him. The people in the restaurant as gasped and screamed, chairs moving and people trying to shuffle away. Peter turned back around seeing May holding a gun, aiming it right at him.

“You’re not going to Tony. Tony motherfucking Stark doesn’t get to lay claim to you. You are mine Peter. You are my child, you are my responsibility, you are mine and you are coming home with me. Now put your hands up baby, I can’t have you calling him. We need to go. You need help. We have to go see the doctor.”

She was shaking, tears running down her face. All Peter could see was his aunt. He could only see May. He couldn’t see Mary and that made it hurt more. He raised his hands, putting them behind his head. He found the his watch easily, clicking the buttons in rapid succession, as many times necessary to get help as soon as possible.

“May, May, please. You can’t- please. You hurt me. Over and over again. It was your choice. Please don’t hurt me anymore. Put the gun down, please. You know I won’t go willingly. I won’t, I will let you shoot me. Kill me, May, do to me what was done to Ben-Richard. Make sure no one can ever have me if you can’t. It’s the only way you can keep me safe right? By making sure I’m dead?” Peter sobbed, moving slowly onto his knees, trying to not be a threat to Mary. “You are scaring me. I used to feel safe with you May. You made me feel safe. But Mary, I don’t feel safe with you. I’d rather be dead then go to whatever place you want me too. You either need to kill me, or let me go to Tony. Either way he’ll make sure you go to jail. But I’ll try and get him to lighten up the sentence if you let me walk out of here tonight.” 

Peter was crying. And near incoherent, he wanted things to be normal. He wanted his Aunt May and he wanted to be at home watching a bad hallmark movie throwing popcorn at the tv. He wanted them to order cheap takeout food when May inevitably burnt dinner.

He could see the people trapped in the restaurant in them taking videos of them. He knew this was probably live on Facebook or Instagram or Tiktok or wherever they post live videos now. Tony was without a doubt watching when FRIDAY picked up his face online. Everyone at school would probably see this, him begging Mary to kill him instead of kidnapping him. 

Peter could hear the sound of repulsors, both of the suit and of the quinjet. He knew Mary only had limited time before Tony got here, and only a little bit more time before whatever available Avengers show up. Happy was probably busy securing the perimeter for the police. Or maybe he was working to get some of the hostages out.

“I don’t want to kill you Pete. I don’t want to kill you, it’s the last thing I want to do. So you need to come with me. You cannot go to Tony Stark. He can’t solve your problems. Let’s go. We can be together, forever. We can finally be the family I always wanted us to be. The family you always wanted to have. Mother and Son. We wouldn’t be Aunt and Nephew now that you know.”

Mary was shaking, her face red, finger on the trigger, safety turned off. She was ready to shoot her son, her child, her baby. She was fighting a losing battle. She said all the wrong things and she’s acting the wrong way. 

Iron Man touched down outside. 

“You have a minute Mary, let me leave, Tony is outside. It’ll be better if you let me go.” It was a final plea, he knew it probably wouldn’t do anything but it was worth the shot.

There was a beat of silence. 

“If I can’t have you then no one can.” Her voice was cold.

A repulsor charged. Mary was out of time. They both knew it. 

A shot rung out.

The window shattered.

Mary flew to the side.

Peter fell backwards.

Tony charged in.

Mary lost her grip on the gun, it skidded across the restaurant floor. Far out of her reach. She pushed herself away, trying to escape Iron Man. The attempt was in vain. Tony stood over her, face plate on the suit flicked up.

“You’re done Mary. You don’t get to hurt him anymore.” 

The Avengers swarmed in detaining Mary, working on getting the hostages out, having them checked by medical. 

“She shot me.” Peter cried out, trying to suck in air.

Tony turned to Peter, seeing the boy lying down. Pool of blood around him. A gun shot wound to the stomach. Peter was smiling teeth stained red. Tony broke out of his suit, skidding to his knees beside him. Tony put pressure on the wound trying to smile at Peter, to try and comfort his kid.

“Peter, kid, I’m right here. I’m right here bambino, it’s okay. She’s not going to hurt you anymore. You’re gonna move in with me, I’ve already got all the paperwork sort out. I promise you kid, you’ve got a home with me. I love you kid, it’s okay, we’ll be okay eventually.”

Peter nodded, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t hurt anymore, nothing hurt.

“I’m sorry Tony. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. I shouldn’t’ve confronted her. She tried to kill me.” He coughed up blood. “I thought she’d tell me it was a lie. Mary never loved me.”

“It’ll be okay bambi, I’ve got you now.”

~~~~~

Peter woke up in the medbay. The lights were dimmed, Tony was asleep with his head on the Peter bed, Tony’s hand resting on Peter’s. The window’s were tinted so he couldn’t see out, and the door was closed most of the way closed. Peter grabbed a cup of water sitting on the nightstand, taking a sip and putting it back down.

“Tony?” Peter whispered, waking the man up.

“Hey Pete,” Tony smiled once he woke up, voice still sleepy, eyes willed with worry. “You comfortable? Can I get you anything? Whatever you need kid, I’ll get it for you.”

“She tried to kill me, Tony. She’d rather me dead, then alive with you. She’s the reason I’m like this. She made me a freak. Because of her I’m some mutant. She never loved me.”

“Oh Peter.” Tony sighed as Peter started sobbing.

Tony got up, crawling into the bed with Peter careful not to irritate the wound. He wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him into his chest. Peter sobbed harder, clinging to Tony.

“You’re no freak Peter. You’re not just some mutant either. You are my kid though, my son, even if not biologically. You are so important to me Peter. I’m so sorry I couldn’t take care of you. I’m so sorry that Mary lied to you you’re whole life, but you’re my kid okay? You are Peter Parker or whoever you want to be. I’m proud of you. You deserved to be loved, bambino.”

“I don’t even want to be a Parker anymore. I don’t want to be related to my parents anymore.” 

Tony wiped the tears off his son’s face. They made eye contact, Peter’s red glassy eyes and Tony’s watery eyes. 

“Then be a Stark. Or a Carbonell. Or a Potts. Or whatever other last name there is that isn’t mine or Peppers. Right. Be a Hogan or a Rhodes. You can have whatever last name you could possibly want. Rogers. Barton. Romanoff. Banner. Odinson. Maximoff. Barnes. Wilson. You don’t have to be a Parker if you don’t want to be. But personally I like the sound of you being Peter Stark, though Peter Potts has a nice ring to it too. We could hyphenate too.”

Peter laughed. “Peter Stark-Potts-Rogers-Barton-Romanoff-Banner-Odinson-Maximoff-Barnes-Wilson? Is that what you want my name to be.”

“No you silly goose. Maybe Peter Stark-Potts. Or Peter Potts-Stark. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I won’t judge. Basically I wanted to say that Pepper and I want to keep custody of you. We currently have temporary custody, because it’s up to you. We didn’t want you left out. And eventually we’d like to adopt you too.” Tony paused for a beat. “But, I feel like we’re having this conversation entirely too soon and I should let you grieve first. Mary’s not dead, that was the wrong word. She’s alive. But I figured you’d be grieving the family you lost. So we can talk about this down the line. When you’re comfortable. But Pep and I will need to know the custody thing soon at least. Gotta keep CPS off our asses at some point.”

“Tony?”

Tony hummed in response.

“Thank you.”

[savannahsdrabbles]

Ocean Song - Part 10/11

Rating: PG

notes: 2.9k words. A03 link can be found here. I can’t believe I’m almost done with this fic! <3 Big thanks again to my beta-readers, @starfiretheninja and @rusty-wayfarer. 

ALSO! I posted character references of the boys here, and @bakedbananners over on Twitter drew them! <33 I may or may not have cried. <3 OK! Now on with the fic! :D

***

“Ay-puh-ril, nicetumeetchu Dawn-ee, Cay-see. I Don-ee, Cay-see, Ahpril nicetumeetchu,” the turtle hummed softly under his breath, still rolling the words over and over in his mouth. He squinted, brown eyes straining to focus in the dim light as he used a claw to trace abstract patterns in the dirt. It had been at least thirty minutes since Casey’s departure, and with their main light source being the soft glow from April’s phone, the two unlikely comrades had settled into a quiet reverie beneath the pine trees. “Don Dun Dunntello Don Dondon Dawn-ee… April?”

“Yes, Donnie?” April glanced down at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, her teeth working impatiently on her already cracked and sore lower lip. When the screen only blinked back a warning of low battery, she tucked the device into her pocket and drew her knees to her chest. It was getting chilly out – hopefully Casey was doing okay without his hoodie.

“Cay-see go?”

“Mh-hm. Remember? Casey went to rent a boat, and then you’re going to guide us so that we can take you home.” She cast her eyes sideways, watching as Donnie furrowed his brow and bobbed his head to show he was listening. “Right now we’re just waiting until he texts and says that the boat is ready.”

“Tehks?”

“Yup,” April tapped the phone-shaped outlined in her pocket, then bit her lip and mumbled a silent prayer that he didn’t ask for a further explanation of technology and digital communication – she’d had a difficult enough time explaining that to her grandparents. “Until then, we’ve just got to wait here.”

The turtle tilted his head and squinted at her pocket for a long moment, his expression clearly saying that he had more questions, but finally nodded and turned back to his doodles. “Bōto o matsu.”

April blinked.

Bōto o… wait for boat? Okay, so not only had he understood, but he understood enough to respond in another language. Cool, cool, okay.

She brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and squeezed, trying to ignore the migraine that had been building behind her eyes over the past few hours. How in the …? She knew he’d used a few Japanese phrases when they had first spoken in the lab, and logically she knew that living in Japan that would be the language he was most exposed to – but in the same vein, none of this made any logical sense. What kind of person could imagine a multilingual, anthropomorphic mutant turtle, accept that as fact, and then continue about their day?

Before her brain could wander any farther down that trail of thought– what next? Aliens? Superheroes? - April felt her phone buzz and heaved a grateful sigh of relief. “That should be Casey – time to get moving!”

The turtle perked up, his head swiveling like a periscope to search the surrounding shadows. “Where-?”

His question was cut off as April surged to her feet, her hands carefully grasping and guiding him upwards alongside her. The turtle yelped in surprise and grabbed for handfuls of her top once upright, wobbling slightly as he tried to balance himself.  

“Here – Casey’s hoodie is going to help keep you covered, okay?” April reached down to grab the jacket from the ground, bundled it up in her hands and then gestured for the turtle to raise his arms. He did so reluctantly, then yelped once more as she quickly pulled the material over his head and began to guide his arms through the fabric. “There likely won’t be too many people out at the marina on a school night, but we want to make sure we don’t draw any extra attention – plus there’s plenty of security cameras out there and it’ll be impossible to completely avoid those.”

“Mmmf!” Was Donnie’s only response, his arms starting to pinwheel frantically before April caught hold of them. A stretch of the hoodie’s neckline had gotten caught on the turtle’s snout, partially obscuring his eyes and totally covering his mouth. April adjusted the fabric with a chuckle, freeing the creature from his polyester prison, and then took a step back to examine her work.

Even compared to her relatively average five and a half feet, Donatello was short – if she had to guess, he probably wasn’t any taller than four foot ten. Considering that the hoodie he now wore was made to fit Casey’s nearly six foot self, it was hard not to see the turtle as a toddler playing dress up in his parents’ clothing. The way that the fabric hung and draped over his body made him look even smaller, if that were possible; should he sit down, he might get lost amongst the apparel. Were it not for the glinting metal collar around his neck and the look of growing discomfort on his face, April would have thought he looked ready to curl up in bed.

“Hmmm,” Donnie hummed pensively, clearly not feeling the comfort that April was perceiving. The turtle gave his fabric-obscured hands a hard shake, eyes wide and increasingly nervous noises emanating from his mouth as he rapidly rotated his limbs in search of his missing appendages.

April giggled and started to step forward to help him roll up the sleeves, but then held back when a quiet voice in her mind chided. Let’s see if he can figure this out.

Donnie glanced up with a piteous whine, looking as if he had her thoughts and realized she wasn’t coming to his rescue, then hesitated. April could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he stared at her rolled sleeves and free hands, then turned back to his own predicament. After a brief moment of thought and one more comparative look, the turtle raised an arm to his mouth and bit down on the sleeve, then gently tugged until his hand slowly slipped free.

“Hoo-dee!” he chirped triumphantly, holding up his free hand and waving it in delight.

“Right, you’re wearing a hoodie!” April grinned, then reached around the turtle to guide the hood over the back of his head. He didn’t seem to mind now, attention already turning back to the process of freeing his second hand. “We’d better keep the hood up for now, but look at us! Just two normal teens on the beach!”

The turtle’s eyes lit up at her last word. He dropped his sleeve in surprise, then turned to point a claw in the direction Casey had disappeared. “Beach!”

“Yup! Now let’s get you home!”

***

Donnie’s heart pounded as he stumbled along behind April, her warm hand holding him steady as the ground beneath them slowly transitioned from poky greens to the tan, shifting sands he knew so well. He’d been able to hear the ocean for a while now, but the moment they pushed through the last bushes and stepped out onto the beach - suddenly everything felt real. The cool, moist air, the promise of water and food and Home and his family – he was so close!

With every step towards the illuminated Human structures in the distance, he felt the urge building in his system – the desire to break loose from April’s gentle guidance and take off running towards the ocean. A familiar tugging sensation pulled incessantly at the back of his mind, calling out in the voices of Father and his brothers.

“This way, Clever, this way! Almost there! Almost Home!”

Their voices were like a siren’s song, beckoning him closer and closer with promises of healing and reassurances that he would soon be safe in their arms.

A breathless half-sob caught in his throat, and he swallowed thickly before trilling in response, his voice echoing out across the beach. “Wait for me; I’m coming! I’ll be Home soon!”

No sooner had the call left his mouth when April shook his hand gently, calling his attention back to the situation before them. He sighed and slowly drug his eyes away from the shore. As much as he wanted to release April’s hand and take off running… something told him that he needed to wait and stay with the two Humans. They had gotten him this far, and if the danger was imminent enough that he and Brothers were going to have to relocate…

“It looks like there’s a few people out on the marina, but I think we’re good,” April spoke in a low voice as she gestured towards the fast-approaching structures with her free hand. Two rows of buildings stood tall amongst the rolling dunes, serving as a departure from the otherwise untouched beach. Sand made way for a long wooden platform that served as the buildings’ foundations and stretched almost a mile out into the ocean. “My dad brought me down to the pier a few times when we first moved to Osaka - it’s pretty fun during the daytime. There’s a few shops and restaurants out on the board walk, and during the summer they host a carnival.”

Donnie nodded absently, his focus already drifting back out across the ocean. “Casey?”

“We’re almost to him. His text said that he was under the –”

A long, shrill whistle suddenly cut through the air, followed by a loud ‘YO!’ that snapped Donnie back to attention. He startled slightly, the sharp movement shaking the hood from his head and sending it sliding down his shoulders.

April heaved a sigh.

“And that would be the Master of Subtlety himself.” Even without looking, Donnie could imagine the way that the girl’s eyes were rolling and her shoulders slouching. He’d seen that exasperated look – and worn it – whenever his brothers did something foolish. With a sigh and a tug on his hand, April headed towards a shadow-y area tucked under the edge of the pier. “Come on.”

The turtle nodded obediently, his pace quickening and heart fluttering they moved closer towards the shoreline.

***

“You know, the point of texting was supposed to be that we kept quiet,” April called out as they approached the pier. She squinted, searching the shadows until they slowly began to give way to separate, more distinct shapes. “You could have at least waited until we got closer before you let the whole beach know where you were.”

“I wanted to make sure that you guys found me,” Casey replied, his voice already sounding smug– clearly a sign that he was up to something. There was a soft grunt as he pushed against one of the pier’s support beams, and then he and the boat slid out of the shadows.

April opened her mouth, hesitated, and then closed her eyes. The headache from earlier was returning. “Casey – what in the world is that?”

“Oh, you mean this beauty?” the teenage boy patted the side of the boat, an impish grin on his face, and then threw out his arms as the tiny, rust-ridden vehicle slowly began to tip towards the right. He flailed wildly for a moment, water splashing as the boat continued to rock from side to side, then finally froze with arms outstretched in a T-pose. “Er – she’ll be much more steady once you guys get in and help distribute the weight.”

“Mh-hm.” April cocked an eyebrow. “I can deal with unsteady; I’m more concerned about getting tetanus, or that thing sinking the second I put one foot in.”

“Yeah, well apparently it’s pretty expensive to rent a nice boat to go ‘somewhere in the ocean’ and come back ‘at some point’,” Casey stuck his tongue out, but kept his arms outstretched. “The shop owner guy looked like he wanted to kick me out more than anything, but I managed to make a deal with him. Apparently they were planning to send this boat to the scrap yard tomorrow morning, so the Jonesman – that’s me - offered to take it off of their hands and save them a trip.” Casey moved to fold his arms across his chest, but then threw them out once more as the boat rolled beneath him. “I was – oh boy, one sec – thinking of naming it the O’Neilmobile, but with that attitude I just might have to reconsider.”

“How will I ever deal with such a loss?”

“I guess Jonesmobile: The Squeakquel will have to do.”

“Casey.”

“It’s Captain Casey now.”

“I’m not calling you that– do you think that thing will stay afloat with all of us? Maybe we should rethink our plans –”

Suddenly and without warning, Donatello dropped April’s hand and surged forward.

“Don-?”

The turtle stumbled heavily as he cleared last few feet of sand, clearly too frantic to think out his steps, but the moment his claws touched foam something seemed to click inside.

“Water – look! Water-water-home!” Breathless words and excited sounds spilled from his lips like a pot bubbling over, coming quick and fast and soon dissolving into a symphony of hums and noises that April could only think to call laughter. He tipped his head back, eyes closed and body shaking with the sounds as he kicked and frolicked through the surf, sending salt water splashing in every direction. “Beach-water-Family-water-water-Home!”

April cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, half afraid that his mirth would attract unwanted attention, but Casey waved the thought off.

“Just… give him a minute,” he smiled, eyes following the turtle as he danced amongst the waves. “I think he needs this.”

April hesitated, but she couldn’t help the smile growing on her face, nor the relieved laugh she gave as Donnie turned towards to them. He grinned widely, eyes shimmering, and then flopped backwards into the water.

“Look! Look water!” His chest heaved as he laughed breathlessly. “Water!”

“I’m happy for you, Bud,” Casey said, nudging the edge of the pier once more so that the boat drifted closer. “We’re so close to getting you home.”

The turtle nodded and laughed again, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. Rivulets of water ran down either side of his face, congregating under his chin and then dripping down to the already soaked hoodie that now hung heavily from his shoulders. He gave a slight shake of his head, sending droplets skittering across the water’s surface, and then lifted a hand to pat his chest. “Donnie.”

Casey cocked his head, eyes sliding to April. “Donnie?”

“It’s short for Donatello,” she smiled and held out her hand towards the turtle. He stood and took it gratefully, eyes gleaming with renewed energy and more life than ever before. With a little tug, she drew him alongside her and stepped closer to the boat. “He needed a special name.”

“Kind of a hard name for someone just learning English,” Casey leaned down to grab a few items from the bottom of the boat and then shifted backwards to give them more room. “I was thinking something more along the lines of ‘Bill’ or ‘Casey Junior’.”

“Pfft - as if,” April held the edge of the boat steady as Donnie scrambled over the side, then plopped himself by Casey’s feet. When the boat didn’t immediately capsize under the weight of a second passenger, she pulled herself in and settled on the bench seat opposite Casey. Now that she was actually in the boat, tucked beside the two guys she was on this adventure with… it suddenly didn’t seem so cruddy. No, this boat was just right for what they needed. “Hey – did you get life vests?”

Casey turned to face the motor and straddled his seat, the movement causing the boat to rock dangerously. “Naw, we’ll be in the boat the whole time, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Plus you and Donnie can swim.”

“Wait – can you not?”

“And off we go!”

The engine took a moment to roll over as Casey tugged on the pull cord, but eventually started with a loud roar that sent Donnie scrambling for safety against April’s legs. She reached down and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and then they were off! The little boat began to power forward at a steady speed – not as fast as she would have liked, but enough so that April’s hair began to tangle around her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, spitting a strand out of her mouth and suddenly wishing that she’d brought a hair tie.

“Here – take this!” Casey called over the sound of the engine. April opened one eye, then grinned when she saw what Casey offering. “Coach said I’m only allowed to keep my hair long if I pull it back during practice, so I always have extra rubber bands on hand!”

“Thanks!” April took the present gratefully and quickly pulled her hair back into a tight bun. Now that that problem was solved… “By the way – did you end up grabbing food like you mentioned?”

The boy’s eyes lit up, and he bent down to grab the objects he’d moved to make room for Donnie. “Oh, yeah! I hit up the McDonald’s on the board walk right before I went to the boat place. I asked the cashier what she suggested for my ‘pet turtle’ and she said suggested a head of lettuce. They were out of that at the moment though, so…” He passed a brown paper sack to April, and then extended a small box to the turtle. “Donnie, can you say ‘chicken nuggets?’”

“Chih nuddets.”

[supernaturalnovelsandmore]

Supernatural Novel: Heart of the Dragon

Welcome to my not-quite review of the fourth Supernatural novel, Heart of the Dragon.

Author: Keith R.A. DeCandido

Timeline: Set after Episode 5.08 Changing Channels

Location: San Francisco, California (Chinatown)

Synopsis: An old foe has come back to terrorize San Francisco, but what is the connection between the Campbells, John Winchester and Sam and Dean? Read to find out!

Warning: Spoilers abound!

Oh, where do I start? Heart of the Dragon has a very different feel to it, one that I'm not entirely on board with. Basically, it's a flashback book that spends the first third on Samuel, Deanna, and Mary Campbell, the second third on John Winchester and the last quarter on Sam and Dean. In fact, out of 28 chapters, Sam and Dean were only featured in about 7 of them. It leaves the book feeling hollow and me, a little meh. But, there are some additional insights into the Winchester family history which I'll try and parse out.

One more thought, I'm glad this is the last book from this particular author. Once again he has utilized a culture/race to tell the story, and not well. When the story is in 1969, he utilizes the world Orientals to explain Japanese and Chinese characters. He might have been trying to use the wording of the day, and that's fine if it's in dialogue, but to use it as a descriptor is problematic, at best. He also plays up multiple stereotypes from the Chinese mob to the Japanese Samurai. I'm hoping this book is the Route 666 of the novels and that they can only get better.

I decided to sort my thoughts within the different timelines, so here we go:

1969: Samuel, Deanna, and Mary Campbell

We open with the family hunting a vampire and Samuel using 15-year-old Mary as willing bait. It turns out to be a nest, but they quickly dispatch them without casualties. Deanna appears to be quite the hunter in her own right (her skill with a Claymore outstanding.) Within this hunt we learn a few things about Mary and the Campbell family.

The Campbells have a strong link to their Scottish heritage.

Samuel hates Christmas

Mary is willful, annoying, and disrespectful, but an amazing hunter who was raised practically from birth to how to hunt and defend herself. (Sam parallels, perhaps?)

Mary learned about monsters at 11 when she saw her parents dispatch an avenging spirit.

Samuel hates the idea of Mary hanging out with any boys, though she has a particular fondness for a John Winchester who works as a local auto-mechanic.

Samuel owns a dry-cleaning business and Deanna substitute teaches to help maintain some kind of income.

Mary often wondered about having a normal life, but would dismiss it knowing she couldn't have that and still know monsters are out there. (Seems like a combination of Sam and Dean here).

Other than that, the hunt they go to San Francisco for seems fairly perfunctory. They do a bunch of research, talk to a few locals. Samuel dons his FBI agent schtick, they locate the source of the problem, and quickly dispatch it. There's nothing too dramatic there, just a lot of backstory.

1989: John Winchester

There's a bit more insight here because now we're getting some insight into Dad John, as well as 6-year-old Sam and 10-year-old Dean. I'll touch on a few points.

Leaving his boys with others: We open with John returning to his kids whom he left at Bobby's while he took care of a hunt. He left them long enough that they were enrolled in school and he planned on keeping them there for the fall semester. He felt bad about using Bobby's hospitality for so long.

Training his boys: "John knew his boys would need to be able to defend themselves against whatever was out there - he'd already started that process with Dean... Dean was a crack shot with John's M1911 and could load the shotgun with iron rounds and fire them off in one smooth motion. Eventually he'd need to train Sammy too. But not yet."

Loving his boys: When he arrives at Bobby's, Sam runs out to meet him and wraps his arms around John's legs as he walks in. Sam also tattles on Dean for eating the last donut.

There are also some fun moments between young Sam and Dean, mostly sibling bickering.

Dean and Sam enjoy playing hide-and-seek among Bobby's car on the weekends and Sam enjoys going to school during the week. Dean, not so much.

Sam proudly shares that he's doing 3rd grade work in 1st grade and then teases Dean about also doing 3rd grade work even though he's in 5th grade (Dean then sticks his tongue out at Sam and says "Screw you, Sammy.") At this John calls them out and both boys are chagrined.

Later on, when John calls Bobby for more information, we find Dean holding a pen out of Sam's reach and teasing him with it.

Of course, that call means we also get this heartbreaking line moment from Dean, who wants to talk to his Dad, but can't before John hangs up. Bobby tries to explain: "'Sorry, Dean, he, uh, was on his way out the door. But he told me to tell you both to behave yourselves and do what I tell you. And that he loves you.' Dean: 'Did he really say that?'"

When Bobby presents the next case, John is torn between wanting to spend time with his kids, but going after something that could cause people to burn spontaneously, in the hopes that it might lead him to the demon who killed Mary. I think the book did a good job of capturing John's struggle between revenge and caring for his boys. He's not the abusive, neglectful father people tend to think he is. He's someone struggling to make things right.

"John didn't answer at first. Instead, he looked over at Sam and Dean in the dining room, playing that oh-so-common game of 'I touched you last.'

Christmas was coming up and he did want to spend it with the boys..."

Finally, when John returns and Bobby and the boys meet him at the airport, we get some additional insight into 10-year-old Dean's thoughts regarding his father and his place in the family.

"Waiting there in the airport, he understood how important it was for Dad to be away so much - more than Sammy ever could. Sammy hadn't really known Mom, since he was just a baby when she died. Dean couldn't imagine that his baby brother would ever truly understand what had happened to her.

If he was honest with himself, he didn't really understand it, either. There were some days - though he'd never admit this to anyone - when he couldn't even remember what she looked like.

Some kind of monster had killed Mom, and Dad wouldn't rest until he found that monster and killed it. Along the way, he'd kill any other monsters who tried to kill other people's moms...

Dad still fought the bad guys and saved people, but he also cared about his sons.

Because Dad was a hero, and that was what heroes did."

2009 - Sam and Dean

There isn't much to write about here, because they weren't featured in the book. I will just add a couple of notes.

Dean recognizes Samuel Campbell in a newspaper article about the killings. (He'd already been sent back in time and met his grandfather).

It's seems reasonable to Sam that Mary and her parents were hunters. What freaks him out is that he and Dean were named after their grandparents and John never told them.

Sam's been a nerd about the American Interstate system since he was 10 and loved poring over maps.

Sam feels more guilt from trusting Ruby over Dean than starting the apocalypse.

Final notes:

This book introduces Castiel who brings the case to the boys attention. We get the same stuff in here that you see on screen, he has issues with personal space, comes and goes at will, and Bobby's still mad at him for not being able to heal his paralysis. He's only there for a few pages, and then disappears again.

Bobby gets a bit more screen time, as a pseudo-dad to young Sam and Dean, and later as their resource when researching the case and it's history. Favorite quote: "As he went into the fridge for butter to spread onto the pan, Bobby decided it was the entire Winchester family that was making him bald."

We briefly get Hurt Sam who is punched repeatedly by a hulk of a man, but with no lasting consequences and very little caring Dean.

We find out at the end that Zachariah orchestrated the whole thing by planting the idea in Castiel's head.

So, like I said at the beginning, not my favorite, but hopefully I was able to share some of the more interesting parts. Read at your own risk!

[edie-k]

The Art of Christmas Tree Selection

Title: The Art of Christmas Tree Selection

Rating: PG/PG-13 (just language)

Disclaimer: Not mine

Summary: On holiday at Hermione's house, Ron is faced with one the scariest prospects of his young life: a talk with Mr. Granger.

In the way back times, less than a year after the publication of Order of the Phoenix, I wrote my first Romione fic. This was it. In the spirt of Christmas, I thought I would share it. It is, AU after OOTP. Originally published on Checkmated, as I am 16 years older, I now made Ron’s conversation with Mr. Granger slightly less melodramatic to find a better balance. Enjoy!  

“Now wait Hermione, explain this again. How exactly do those people get into that box?” asked Ron, cocking his head at the television set in the corner.

“Honestly Ron, I’m not explaining it again!” Hermione huffed, placing her hands on her hips. The long strands of garland she had previously been winding around the banister of the staircase trailed from her fists to the floor.

“Aw, come on love. You enjoy being a know it all,” Ron replied, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her back against him.

“Ron!” squealed Hermione, pulling away slightly and turning in his arms to place her hands on the back of his neck. It was all Ron could do to restrain himself from letting out a sigh of contentment. Luckily, his ego kept him from sounding too effeminate.

It was his last Christmas break before leaving Hogwarts and it was the first holiday that he would spend without Harry or his family. Hermione had wanted to spend Christmas with her mum and dad and she had managed to get Ron to agree to accompany her home.

If he was completely honest, Hermione had some rather brilliant ways of convincing him.

Hermione and he had finally managed to get their act together a couple of months into sixth year. All of their pent up emotions and tension spilled out in the middle of a row. “I always knew it would come out like that,” Ginny bragged. In all honesty, Ron couldn’t remember what the argument had been about but he never mentioned that because Hermione most likely did.

In the year and some months they had been together, life had proved to be rather trying. Then again, life as Harry Potter’s best friend was never easy. Having Hermione by his side through it all was the biggest blessing he could have received. Of course, Hermione had always been there with him but without the underlying tension, he found that much more comfort in her presence.

Harry was really supposed to be there with them. After Hermione had talked (well, not necessarily talked) Ron into going to her home for the holiday, she had immediately invited Harry, who much to their surprise, declined. He informed them that he had already accepted his mum’s invitation to join the Weasleys and told Ron and Hermione that he would see them when they arrived at the Burrow on Boxing Day to spend the rest of their holiday. “Besides,” said Harry after Hermione had retired to her room for the night. “Don’t you two want to spend some time alone?”

Yes. Yes he did. Another disadvantage of being Harry Potter’s best friend (besides the target on your back) was that Harry required an abundance of support and attention to keep him from slipping into a mood of eternal melancholy. Ron looked forward to any time that he could spend alone with Hermione. Of course, their alone time was not going to happen at her parents’ house.

Hermione’s parents. Oh Merlin, they made him nervous. There were times when Ron could barely convince himself that he deserved Hermione, how could he convince her parents?

Ron had seen snippets from letters that Hermione had received from home and he could tell that they thought she could do no wrong. He figured this had to do with the fact she was an only child. His own parents had never harbored such beliefs. They were overjoyed if their children could make it through the day without hurting themselves or one another.

Hermione’s parents were dentists. This was some sort of Muggle tooth doctor and according to Harry, dentists typically made a good deal of money. If their house was any indication, it was rather obvious. Harry also told him that to become a dentist, you had to go to university for a number of years. Therefore, the Grangers were just as brilliant as their genius daughter.

For the three days since their arrival at the Granger household, Ron stuck as close as possible to Hermione. This strategy had seemed to work for him so far. The first two days, the Grangers had worked during the day (which also equated to some proper alone time) and he only faced their scrutiny at dinner. With Hermione there to properly steer the conversation, Ron was able to participate and sound at least half way intelligent.

This morning, however, was the first day of the Grangers’ holiday from their office, and consequently, Mrs. Granger had scheduled a doctor’s appointment for Hermione. Hermione had protested fervently. “Honestly, I don’t need to see a cardiologist. Just because I had a slight murmur as a baby doesn’t mean there is a thing wrong with me now. Believe me, if it was anything life threatening I’m sure that I would already have had cardiovascular failure,” Hermione had vented to Ron. He had merely nodded and inquired as to the time of her appointment. The appointment was scheduled for 9:15 in the morning and Ron had managed to stay in bed until 11:00 when he heard the front door open. His mum would have him degnoming the garden for the rest of his life if she found out he behaved that way while a guest in someone’s home.

It was now the afternoon and they had finished lunch and begun to decorate the house for Christmas. Hermione had been wrapping the garland around the banister of the stairs of the entrance hall where Ron had been hanging garland to line the windows of the front door. The house was beginning to take on the aromas of Christmastime, which reminded him of his own mum’s baking.

“Ron? Ron?” said an amused voice. He shook his head, clearing it and looked down at a grinning Hermione. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Oh, uh, sorry. I got a bit lost in my own thoughts there.”

“I asked if you wanted to take two steps to the right,” she repeated. Ron glanced upward in the direction that she had indicated and grinned. With his arms still around her, he took two exaggerated steps until they were directly underneath a small sprig of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. He raised his eyebrows twice and drew a giggle from Hermione, something only he could do. He leaned in for a sweet kiss.

“Hermione?” called a voice. Ron dropped his arms away from Hermione and quickly pushed her away.

“Yes Dad?” asked Hermione, rolling her eyes at Ron. Hermione had told him that she was positive her parents would not be offended if they were affectionate with each other in front of them but Ron could barely bring himself to hold her hand in the presence of her mum and dad.

“Mum was hoping that you would help her in the kitchen with the fudge. She seems to think that if you prepare it, Aunt Patricia won’t be so inclined to criticize it tomorrow.” Mr. Granger gave her a wink and she smiled.

“Sure, Dad,” she replied.

Ron was now completely unsure as to what he should do while Hermione assisted her mum. Before he had much chance to panic, Mr. Granger opened his mouth, uttering one of the scariest things Ron ever heard in his life.

“I was just about to leave to get our Christmas tree. I could use some help. Why don’t you join me, Ron?”

“Uh-um, yeah,” Ron stuttered out. “I mean, yes sir. I would be glad to help.”

“Wonderful! I’ll just round up my winter things,” Mr. Granger said, heading toward the back of the house and leaving Hermione and Ron alone in the front hall once again.

Ron turned to Hermione, his eyes wide open and filled with panic. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Ron, it’s just my dad. You have faced things much more terrifying than my father.”

“Well, what if I slip and say something that makes him hate me?” Ron asked, his voice filled with fear.

“As long as you two don’t discuss snogging habits, I think that you will do fine,” Hermione said with a smirk.

“Hermione!” Ron said, aghast. How could she even joke about this?

“Well, honestly Ron. What could you possibly do? Dad is already quite aware of the wizarding world. My parents know the basics of the war with Voldemort, so no surprises there. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” With that, she stood on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek before entering the kitchen to help her mother and leaving him absolutely alone in his own misery.

“Blimey,” Ron muttered to the empty room. “I’m screwed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This whole excruciating mess had to be almost over. It seemed like hours since they had left the safety of Hermione acting as a buffer. Ron glanced out the car window and over his shoulder. Shit. He could still see the driveway. They had barely started.  

“Well Ron,” said Mr. Granger. “Judy and I are glad that you could join us for Christmas. I’m sure Hermione filled you in on our family.” Ron nodded. Both sets of Hermione’s grandparents knew that she was a witch but none of her aunts, uncles, or cousins were privy to that information. They thought she attended Huntington Preparatory School. So that meant that he would not only have to pretend to be a Muggle but a smart one as well. At least with Hermione’s parents he could respond with his real life.

“I plan on letting Hermione run the conversation,” Ron said nervously.

Mr. Granger smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry Ron. We won’t let you die out there. I hope you won’t be too overwhelmed by all of the family tomorrow. They are a good group but they can get a bit rowdy as a party wears on.”

“If anyone understands a rowdy family, it’s me, sir,” Ron answered. Of course, when he was with his own family, he didn’t need to lie about his entire life and impress them enough so that they thought he was good enough for Hermione.

Mr. Granger chuckled. “I would imagine that you are well-versed in that. I’ve heard plenty of stories about the trouble that your twin brothers cause… What are their names again?”

“Fred and George,” supplied Ron. Ron had a feeling that Mr. Granger had not heard some of the more recent stories from Hermione’s visit this summer since most of those involved Ron and Hermione having tricks played on them while being caught in rather compromising situations.

“I know that Hermione has always enjoyed the time that she spends with your family. I imagine it’s nice for her to experience a big family first-hand. Judy and I are glad that she’s seeing a young man that comes from such a strong family background. I’m not sure how things are in the wizarding world but there has been a breakdown of families here in recent years and it’s nice to see that Hermione found someone who was raised with strong family values.”  

“My mum and dad tried their best,” Ron responded. He began to relax a bit. This wasn’t so bad. Mr. Granger was actually being quite flattering. And he had managed to answer mostly in complete sentences.

“Judy and I do like you, Ron,” Mr. Granger continued. “But Hermione is our only child. As her father, it’s my obligation to ask you what your exact feelings toward her are.”

How much would it hurt to jump from a moving car? They were traveling on side streets so they couldn’t be going that fast. As long as he tucked his head…

“Ron?” prompted Mr. Granger again.

“I’m sorry sir,” squeaked Ron in a voice that had not made an appearance since early puberty. He cleared his throat. “Could you repeat that?”

“I’m sorry to take you by surprise. Take a moment to collect your thoughts,” Mr. Granger said.

What Ron really wanted to do was slap himself in the forehead. Why had he left his wand back at the house? Not only was it stupid with all the danger they faced but if he had it, he could Apparate the hell out of there. No. No, he had to stay. And not just because he did not have his wand. He had to stay because he loved Hermione. All he had to do was explain to her father why.

“Uh, well sir, I love your daughter very much. She’s been my friend forever. And I reckon that even with a family as large as mine, she’s the one person in the world that I never have to doubt. She always believes in me and supports me. And even when we argue, I never have to wonder if she really loves me or not because I already know the answer. And I want to be that person for her as well. She means everything to me,” Ron said. Wow, that was pretty articulate!

Hermione was really rubbing off on him because now he was thinking words like articulate. And earlier this afternoon, he was pretty sure he had thought the word melancholy. What was happening to him?

Mr. Granger cleared his throat. “That’s very good to hear Ron. A little hard for a father to hear but it’s a very nice thought.”

“I uh- I mean every word of it,” Ron said, trying to sound confident. He was confident in how he felt about Hermione but less certain about expressing it to her father.

“I’m sure that you do. So now I have to know-what are your intentions toward my daughter?”

According to Bill, Charlie, and Fred, who all had fiancées or steady girlfriends, those were the scariest seven words in the English language. He had laughed at the time. What could be so horrible about saying that his plan was to marry Hermione (when they were much older, of course)? Now that he was actually expected to say it to her father he felt closer to his older brothers than ever before. He prayed that he could channel one of them as he answered the question. Preferably not Fred.

“Um, well, uh, sir, I guess my plan is that when we are older-uh, much older- I would like to spend- that is I want to.” Gryffindor, Gryffindor! “I’m planning to be with her for as long as she’ll have me.”

Mr. Granger turned to regard him as Ron stared determinedly out the windshield. “Do you know what Hermione’s plans are for the future?”

Ron was a little surprised by this. He had expected the next question to be about his own future and career. “I don’t think she has quite made up her mind as to what occupation she wants to pursue. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m sure she’ll succeed no matter what she does. I just hope that she plans to take me along for the ride.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Mr. Granger. “We know our daughter is intelligent Ron.”

“I wouldn’t have made it this far without her,” Ron said. He immediately reddened at his sudden interruption. “Um, sorry sir.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad to see you think so highly of her. We want her to reach her full potential and we want to see her with someone who will be supportive of that.”

“Yes, of course sir. I sincerely doubt that I could stop her even if I really wanted to.”

Mr. Granger laughed. “She said you had a sense of humor. Although we haven’t seen much of it this holiday.”  

“Well, I reckon I have been a bit nervous,” Ron admitted. He remembered Charlie had said that his girlfriend’s father had liked it when he had shown fear.

“I remember the first time I was alone with Judy’s father,” Mr. Granger said. “I was helping him fix a few shingles on his roof and when he asked me how I felt about Judy, I contemplated jumping off the roof.”

Ron laughed uncomfortably. Was he a mind reader?

Mr. Granger cleared his throat and a rather serious look crossed his face. “This might sound a bit hypocritical after I made such a point of Hermione’s independence but as her father….” Mr. Granger stopped and he looked as uncomfortable as Ron did for a moment.

The car was on a busier road and now traveling at a faster speed but if Mr. Granger asked Ron a question about their physical relationship… gravity be damned, he was jumping.

Ron debated on whether he should prompt Mr. Granger to continue because he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to hear it, when Mr. Granger continued his previous thought.

“I know there is danger in your world. I don’t know the extent of it but I think that it is worse than Hermione leads us to believe.” Mr. Granger glanced at Ron who continued to sit in silence. He did not want to incriminate Hermione because he knew that she had not told her parents the whole truth but his silence seemed to affirm Mr. Granger’s opinion.

“And I know that Hermione is in more danger than most.” Harry Potter’s Muggle-born best friend? She was probably third on Voldemort’s hit list, behind Harry and Dumbledore.

“So I just want to make sure that, well, that...” Mr. Granger was struggling for the words but Ron could see where he was going. And Ron knew exactly how to answer this question.

“Mr. Granger, I promise you that I will protect your daughter. I will keep her safe until the day I die. I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.” Wow, that was good. He sounded pretty manly.

“Thank you Ron. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Mr. Granger said.

Ron felt the need to fill the silence so he followed up with “I mean it, sir.” He mentally slapped himself. Way to contribute a worthwhile comment, Weasley.  

Mr. Granger looked at him and smiled. For the first time the whole ride, Ron turned to meet his eyes and smiled back.  

The car coasted into a lot filled with pine trees already cut and prepared to be sold. Mr. Granger put the car into park and Ron opened his door and slid out.  

“One more thing Ron,” said Mr. Granger as they walked toward the tree lot.

“Yes?” Ron asked, meeting his eyes again. Hermione was right. Her dad wasn’t so bad.

“When you’re with my daughter, keep your hands where I can see them.”