#and now my mom's cousin (brother of the one whose husband just died)

[teenagefeeling]

my mom's cousin died last night :( that's the fifth family member of mine who has died in the past 9 years........

[thedaveandkimmershow]

My uncle passed away a few days ago. Tuesday, February 20. 

He died in Bali, Indonesia on what would be his final journey to the country of his birth. 

We received the news a half hour after his passing, 130ish in the morning at our home, 530ish in the afternoon some eight thousand miles away across the Pacific Ocean.

He was my mom's older brother in a family of four. My mom's older sister and her younger brother passed away twenty years ago within months of each other, leaving my mom as the last serving sibling.

My uncle was super old by the way. That's not a knock on his age, by the way. Another nine years and he would've spent a literal century having lived on this third rock from the sun.

So safe to say he lived a full life, ending, believe it or not, with the title of Great-Grandfather.

My family in Holland is my family that I sometimes think of as my mythological family. This is the part of my family that lives in The Netherlands, has lived in The Netherlands for most and all of their lives, and who probably will always live in the Netherlands.

So yeah.

Distance is a thing. I can't just point to them and declare There they are!

You pretty much have to take my word on it.

Still, I tell people about the weird connection we have with roots in our collective childhoods. I tell people about our similarity of personalities, a modern-day tell that we're from the same tribe. And I tell people that time and distance don't diminish our shared connection. Which is a helluva thing given that twenty years just filled the space between last month when we were with them... and the time before that.

Twenty years ago.

And no. It doesn't, does not, seem to diminish us or our relationships with each other.

My uncle, by the way, my mom's older brother, was a drummer. He was on the kit with bands at a young punk age so it was hard not to think of him as a pretty cool dude. We met for the first time when I was a child. I had to be younger than ten when I met he, my aunt, and their son, my cousin. Later, a daughter would come along, another cousin for me, but it was that first meeting, the family of three, at which we were introduced. At the time, I think it was the company, Phillips, that he worked for. The sound recording company. Long play records. Cassette tapes. Electronic sound equipment. I'm not sure where he was in the company or how he came to be there but professional musician was his vibe.

He was a kind man. A clever and silly man. The man for whom Kimmer 'n I got on a plane to travel the five thousand miles to his home where we spent hours of every day with him. And where I got to tell him that I love him and thanked him for being my uncle. I don't know what that last bit means, actually. After all, an uncle's an uncle. It's a label of relationship within a family.

Gotta say, though, he brought a lot of honor and, yes, a certain X-factor to the uncle gig.

In the end, as in the beginning, he made an indelible impression in my memories. One who always made me smile. And one, I'm certain, who's passing will take a while to set.

Why?

Because with friends and family I don't see often, their passing doesn't register in the same way as someone who suddenly drops out of the middle of my life. There's gonna be a part of me that naturally thinks my uncle's still there across a country and an ocean, a great-grandfather, a husband, drummer, a good man. Enjoying his life surrounded by family that moves through his home like a natural current. There's a part of me that'll assume my uncle's living his life on the other side of the world until...

Until...

Until the part of me that knows better reminds me that he has, in fact, left the building.

I miss him, though. Right now as I'm thinking about him, I miss him. Just like I miss his sister and his younger brother whose memories I keep from childhood, whose memories sometimes prevent me from remembering they're no longer with us.

It's the only benefit I can think of, this thing where my family lives so far away and years go by between those times that we see each other: my sense that they're present on this earth with me is stronger. It's a bedrock reality for me that they are simply there.

Always.

My uncle passed away a few days ago. Tuesday, February 20. 

He died in Bali, Indonesia on what would be his final journey to the country of his birth. 

It's a fitting end to the story of his life, one that was absolutely made possible by his wife, his son, and his daughter. What I'll remember is that it was a quest. A literal adventure, traveling more than a thousand miles by plane, train, and automobile just to get started, moving from the west of Indonesia all the way to the east. In a way, it was also traveling back in time, revisiting the country of my uncle's youth, back where the life as he knew it started.

It's the quest I'll remember more than anything else.

One that remains ongoing.

☺️❤️

[myhauntedsalem]

19 Parents Share What Their Kid Remembered About Their ‘Last’ Life

1. He showed us his grave

When my brother was about 2 or 3 he told us his name used to be Austin. One day we were picnicking right along side a cemetery, when my brother took off running towards the gravestones, my dad and I followed him and found him touching a large headstone that simply read “Here Lies Austin” no name, no date. My brother did not learn to read until he was 6 and this headstone wasn’t even right out visible from where we were, yet he ran right to it

2. We don’t watch firefighter things

my son told me a few months ago he “used to be a firefighter, and we got called to a fire. There wasn’t any family inside the house, so we just put the fire out. Then the fire truck caught on fire and I died”. A few nights later, he elaborated he was taken to a hospital, where he died. We don’t watch firefighter things.

3. Her “other” mother’s name was Sally

I was talking to my four year old when she began to freak me out. She was telling me a story about her “other mother” and that she “died a long time ago on a Thursday.” I tried to brush it off, you know, whatever, shes a kid, they have wild imaginations… but then she started to go further into detail about the death of her “other mother,” whose name was apparently Sally. She has never met anyone named Sally, and I can’t recall any shows on TV she watches where “Sally” is a character. She told me that she was playing with her father’s gun that she found and accidentally shot and killed Sally while she was walking upstairs. It’s pretty weird. There are no guns in this house, I haven’t even really told her what guns are all about and how they can hurt or kill someone, shes only four! I think I am beginning to understand now why when I try to tell her when someone dies, they go away forever, she tells me that, that is not true. “We come back, mommy!” I’m only 23, I had my daughter very young and despite not being prepared, I don’t think I could have ever prepared for a conversation like that!

4. “When she lived before she was born”

My daughter did the same thing at the same age. She told me about her life “when she lived before she was born” and described herself as a woman with long hair who lived in an apartment with a long flight of stairs outside of it. She drove a VW Bug and wore long skirts. She then told me that she fell down the stairs and died. Her stories were startlingly vivid and always consistent. Quite spooky. She is now 19 and doesnt remember it. My advice would be write down everything your daughter tells you on the subject. Everything! Record her stories if you can.

5. Roanoke?

I would tell my older sister about my death. I told her my husband was captured and fire was everywhere. I took my young son and ran. I told her my son couldn’t run fast enough. I knew we would get killed and I had my husbands knife on me, I wanted to leave a clue. I wrote in capitals “CROATOAN” I told her we were caught and how my son was killed before I was killed. I told her how I was stabbed in the stomach with a knife. Then, I went about playing with dolls. I can still picture the scene and my son to this day.

6. “She used to come visit me”

my son says he remember his great grandmother (my grandmother) and can describe her in perfect detail (how she looks, how she acted, even what brand of cigarettes she smoked) , although she died 11 days before he was born. He says that she used to come visit him in his dreams.

7. Conchon

Apparently beginning around the time my friend could form sentences until he was little more than 2, he would go on and on about how he was a Native American named Conchon and that after his wife and son got sick and died, he moved to a mountain to live by himself with his horse. He died of a broken neck when he fell into a ravine.

8. “My real mom and dad were killed when the bad men came.”

when I was 2 or 3 I was talking to my grandmother and told her that my mom and dad weren’t my real mom and dad. My grandmother, knowing this wasn’t true, said they were. I calmly explained that no, my real mom and dad were killed when the bad men came. I had lived because my mom hid me behind a rock. I then went on to describe white men with guns and us “dark” people with long hair. When I was done, I went back to eating my ice cream.

9. Jesus

My cousin, approximately 3 years old and riding in the car with my mum and dad, pointed out a random house that they went past and declared “I died there”.

10. Included because, WHAT?

I did something sort of similar I guess. When I was about 3 my mum and I were driving over a bridge on which there’d recently been a major accident that resulted in a car bursting into flames and the driver dying. Anyway, I asked my mum who the man in the front seat was and when she told me to describe him I said, “Well he’s on fire and he keeps looking back at me.”

11. I drowned

My mother told me about a story I told her when I was 2 or 3. I told her she was the best mommy I ever had, to which she replied, “I’m the only mommy you’ve ever had.” “nu-uh, I had another mommy.” I said that my older sister and I went out to a pond in the woods behind my house. Around the pond, all of the trees were the same type: skinny with white paper-like bark. (I had never seen a poplar tree before in this life.) We put some logs together to make a raft, and put it into the water to play boat captain and climbed aboard. The raft fell apart, and I didn’t know how to swim. I tried to grab a log, but my hand slipped off. I could see my sister freaking out from underwater. I drowned.

12. My war memories

one of 6 hopping out of a helicopter into a field, it’s hot as shit, humid, daytime, two house/buildings smoking and heavily burning straight in front of me (to the side of the chopper), and there’s firing from the woods and field to my right. It’s chaotic a noisy, lots of firing and helicopters, my guys are firing back crouched next to the back building, one guy runs out of the other building with a kid he pushes forward and yells at to run, the kid gets shot from out of nowhere, and drops. I see a few of my guys advancing from another chopper behind me duck down in the grass as their chopper leaves, I crouch in tall grass about 10 feet from my chopper, fire my rifle twice from just above the grass line, and my chopper starts to take off, and is taking fire. I get up to move forward, panicky, and am shot dead – I feel a hard thunk, see part my chest explode, fall forward go black, and zoom out above my body. I also drew this later (still have pics, mom saved them). To me, it’s clear as day, still. Mom said some of my first chatter was about “heavy fire” “zip em boys” (don’t know what that means) and I would ask “Where are the hueys?” I was born in the early 70s, and my family was NOT military (very anti, actually). I err on the side of thinking it’s media (news footage?) I absorbed at some point from the Viet Nam war, but I also wonder if it’s not a past-life dream.

13. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

When my kid was 4, we were watching a docu on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the tv and said, “That’s wrong. The boilers were on the Other side. And I was right here.” And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. “That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.”

14. My family’s farm, burning

When I was younger I would have dreams of living in colonial american. I remember bits very vividly and only when I was older did I realize what they were about and how accurate they were. Most of the dreams consisted of me being in my late teen years and centered around my family’s farm being set on fire during the night. I never dreamed past that night, nothing about the aftermath of the fire, and I haven’t had one in years.

15. “Nobody scroofs me there”

Getting my two and a half year old daughter out of the bath one night, my wife and I were briefing her on how important it was she kept her privates clean. She casually replied “Oh, nobody ‘scroofs’ me there. They tried one night. They kicked the door in and tried but I fought back. I died and now I’m here.” She said this like it was nothing. My wife and I were catatonic.

16. Nope

“Before I was born here, I had a sister, right? Her and my other Mom are so old now. They were ok when the car was on fire, but I sure wasn’t!”

17. “Their screams are keeping me up”

I was in my room on the computer at about 11, which is late for my sister to be awake even now. I was thinking about bed, but then my sister knocks on the door. She was maybe 10 at the time, so not so young that she doesn’t know when she’s dreaming. She wanted to sleep in my room because she was sad and scared. I asked her why, and she said, “I watched your sons burn up in the fire. Their screams are keeping me up.”

18. Role reversal

My three year old said, “Remember when I was the grown-up and you were the little boy?” to his Dad.

19. When he was a grown up

My father used to hate policemen when he was a kid, he used to tell my grandmother that they came to his house and shot him when he was a grown up.

19 Parents Share What Their Kid Remembered About Their ‘Last’ Life paranormal ghost and hauntings

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May 26th, 2019

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19 Parents Share What Their Kid Remembered About Their ‘Last’ Life1. He showed us his grave

When my brother was about 2 or 3 he told us his name used to be Austin. One day we were picnicking right along side a cemetery, when my brother took off...

19 Parents Share What Their Kid Remembered About Their ‘Last’ Life

1. He showed us his grave

When my brother was about 2 or 3 he told us his name used to be Austin. One day we were picnicking right along side a cemetery, when my brother took off running towards the gravestones, my dad and I followed him and found him touching a large headstone that simply read “Here Lies Austin” no name, no date. My brother did not learn to read until he was 6 and this headstone wasn’t even right out visible from where we were, yet he ran right to it

2. We don’t watch firefighter things

my son told me a few months ago he “used to be a firefighter, and we got called to a fire. There wasn’t any family inside the house, so we just put the fire out. Then the fire truck caught on fire and I died”. A few nights later, he elaborated he was taken to a hospital, where he died. We don’t watch firefighter things.

3. Her “other” mother’s name was Sally

I was talking to my four year old when she began to freak me out. She was telling me a story about her “other mother” and that she “died a long time ago on a Thursday.” I tried to brush it off, you know, whatever, shes a kid, they have wild imaginations… but then she started to go further into detail about the death of her “other mother,” whose name was apparently Sally. She has never met anyone named Sally, and I can’t recall any shows on TV she watches where “Sally” is a character. She told me that she was playing with her father’s gun that she found and accidentally shot and killed Sally while she was walking upstairs. It’s pretty weird. There are no guns in this house, I haven’t even really told her what guns are all about and how they can hurt or kill someone, shes only four! I think I am beginning to understand now why when I try to tell her when someone dies, they go away forever, she tells me that, that is not true. “We come back, mommy!” I’m only 23, I had my daughter very young and despite not being prepared, I don’t think I could have ever prepared for a conversation like that!

4. “When she lived before she was born”

My daughter did the same thing at the same age. She told me about her life “when she lived before she was born” and described herself as a woman with long hair who lived in an apartment with a long flight of stairs outside of it. She drove a VW Bug and wore long skirts. She then told me that she fell down the stairs and died. Her stories were startlingly vivid and always consistent. Quite spooky. She is now 19 and doesnt remember it. My advice would be write down everything your daughter tells you on the subject. Everything! Record her stories if you can.

5. Roanoke?

I would tell my older sister about my death. I told her my husband was captured and fire was everywhere. I took my young son and ran. I told her my son couldn’t run fast enough. I knew we would get killed and I had my husbands knife on me, I wanted to leave a clue. I wrote in capitals “CROATOAN” I told her we were caught and how my son was killed before I was killed. I told her how I was stabbed in the stomach with a knife. Then, I went about playing with dolls. I can still picture the scene and my son to this day.

6. “She used to come visit me”

my son says he remember his great grandmother (my grandmother) and can describe her in perfect detail (how she looks, how she acted, even what brand of cigarettes she smoked) , although she died 11 days before he was born. He says that she used to come visit him in his dreams.

7. Conchon

Apparently beginning around the time my friend could form sentences until he was little more than 2, he would go on and on about how he was a Native American named Conchon and that after his wife and son got sick and died, he moved to a mountain to live by himself with his horse. He died of a broken neck when he fell into a ravine.

8. “My real mom and dad were killed when the bad men came.”

when I was 2 or 3 I was talking to my grandmother and told her that my mom and dad weren’t my real mom and dad. My grandmother, knowing this wasn’t true, said they were. I calmly explained that no, my real mom and dad were killed when the bad men came. I had lived because my mom hid me behind a rock. I then went on to describe white men with guns and us “dark” people with long hair. When I was done, I went back to eating my ice cream.

9. Jesus

My cousin, approximately 3 years old and riding in the car with my mum and dad, pointed out a random house that they went past and declared “I died there”.

10. Included because, WHAT?

I did something sort of similar I guess. When I was about 3 my mum and I were driving over a bridge on which there’d recently been a major accident that resulted in a car bursting into flames and the driver dying. Anyway, I asked my mum who the man in the front seat was and when she told me to describe him I said, “Well he’s on fire and he keeps looking back at me.”

11. I drowned

My mother told me about a story I told her when I was 2 or 3. I told her she was the best mommy I ever had, to which she replied, “I’m the only mommy you’ve ever had.” “nu-uh, I had another mommy.” I said that my older sister and I went out to a pond in the woods behind my house. Around the pond, all of the trees were the same type: skinny with white paper-like bark. (I had never seen a poplar tree before in this life.) We put some logs together to make a raft, and put it into the water to play boat captain and climbed aboard. The raft fell apart, and I didn’t know how to swim. I tried to grab a log, but my hand slipped off. I could see my sister freaking out from underwater. I drowned.

12. My war memories

one of 6 hopping out of a helicopter into a field, it’s hot as shit, humid, daytime, two house/buildings smoking and heavily burning straight in front of me (to the side of the chopper), and there’s firing from the woods and field to my right. It’s chaotic a noisy, lots of firing and helicopters, my guys are firing back crouched next to the back building, one guy runs out of the other building with a kid he pushes forward and yells at to run, the kid gets shot from out of nowhere, and drops. I see a few of my guys advancing from another chopper behind me duck down in the grass as their chopper leaves, I crouch in tall grass about 10 feet from my chopper, fire my rifle twice from just above the grass line, and my chopper starts to take off, and is taking fire. I get up to move forward, panicky, and am shot dead – I feel a hard thunk, see part my chest explode, fall forward go black, and zoom out above my body. I also drew this later (still have pics, mom saved them). To me, it’s clear as day, still. Mom said some of my first chatter was about “heavy fire” “zip em boys” (don’t know what that means) and I would ask “Where are the hueys?” I was born in the early 70s, and my family was NOT military (very anti, actually). I err on the side of thinking it’s media (news footage?) I absorbed at some point from the Viet Nam war, but I also wonder if it’s not a past-life dream.

13. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

When my kid was 4, we were watching a docu on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the tv and said, “That’s wrong. The boilers were on the Other side. And I was right here.” And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. “That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.”

14. My family’s farm, burning

When I was younger I would have dreams of living in colonial american. I remember bits very vividly and only when I was older did I realize what they were about and how accurate they were. Most of the dreams consisted of me being in my late teen years and centered around my family’s farm being set on fire during the night. I never dreamed past that night, nothing about the aftermath of the fire, and I haven’t had one in years.

15. “Nobody scroofs me there”

Getting my two and a half year old daughter out of the bath one night, my wife and I were briefing her on how important it was she kept her privates clean. She casually replied “Oh, nobody ‘scroofs’ me there. They tried one night. They kicked the door in and tried but I fought back. I died and now I’m here.” She said this like it was nothing. My wife and I were catatonic.

16. Nope

“Before I was born here, I had a sister, right? Her and my other Mom are so old now. They were ok when the car was on fire, but I sure wasn’t!”

17. “Their screams are keeping me up”

I was in my room on the computer at about 11, which is late for my sister to be awake even now. I was thinking about bed, but then my sister knocks on the door. She was maybe 10 at the time, so not so young that she doesn’t know when she’s dreaming. She wanted to sleep in my room because she was sad and scared. I asked her why, and she said, “I watched your sons burn up in the fire. Their screams are keeping me up.”

18. Role reversal

My three year old said, “Remember when I was the grown-up and you were the little boy?” to his Dad.

19. When he was a grown up

My father used to hate policemen when he was a kid, he used to tell my grandmother that they came to his house and shot him when he was a grown up.

[reginaofdoctorwho]

weird shit that would probably have something to do with me in a horror movie

no one wanted this but i’m bored and found a bottle so you’re all getting it. yes these are all true. check the tags, if u think i’ve missed something please let me know!

there was a murder (technically, i don’t really count it as a murder) next door when i was four years old on christmas morning

the weird antique glass bottle i found half-buried in the woods in the woods yesterday with living bugs in it that made no attempt to leave it once i uncovered it

there is a local cult in the next town over. this is not the same as the local cult that was in the other town over where my mom grew up

random completed animal skeletons in the woods behind our house, i’m talking prey and predator, both laid out like in a goddamn scientific diagram. for a while there’d be ones in the middle of our yard, always the same type of animal, always just the bones and nothing else, laid out like it was posed. this has been happening for over half a decade and we have no fucking clue how, why, or who is doing it

the screaming from the woods that i’m going to assume is a fox

my sister almost dated a murderer. his niece or something is in my class

there is a house that is now part of a “local ghost tour” that belonged to my great+ grand parents during the civil war where my great+ aunt died allegedly murdered by her husband who is actually blood related to me. family history says she died of childbirth, which given that it was the 1800s... probably is true

there was an actual murderer in our family a few generations back but he married in and killed his wife and her sister. they didn’t find out about it until they read his journals after he died where it apparently told everything he did and they decided. “well, that wouldn’t look good for the family, and they’re already dead anyway” and just kept it hidden??

the fact we have my great great grandmother’s dress from probably 1890s or 1900s. even more so the fact that i fit in it. if this was fantasy horror (vampires, some immortal thing or ghost) i’d be fucking dead or cursed

fairly certain i was possessed by the ghost of a puritan as a kid

my family seems to have a curse with babies and nurses? my great uncle died when he was born because long story short, hospitals were the new hot thing, he was perfectly healthy, then a nurse dropped him and he died instantly. my sister died when she was a toddler and the hospital actively tried to delete her hospital records to cover it up and ended up getting fined by the state for it. the nurses responsible were not arrested or punished in any way.

my family all has fucked up connective tissue, in my brother it was bad enough he had to get a steel bar in his chest so it wouldn’t cave in.

the many times i have almost drowned, sometimes due to intentional actions by humans (my dad, it was my dad)

this in addition to the other fucked up shit he did before the divorce when he still lived here, including but not limited to: killing my mom’s favorite pet goat, hanging its skull in a tree, and leaving the body in the woods. not letting his kids learn how to cook. anytime someone asked him to cook he’d put as much pepper/hot sauce in as he could (even for like, scrambled eggs) and give it to the youngest person, usually a toddler. this was me at times. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening murder. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening burning. purposely locked the basement from the inside so we couldn’t get the gaping hole in the stairs leading to one of three kids rooms fixed. tearing up pictures of the kids whenever my mom did something he didn’t like. i had more here but i tried to cut it down a litttle

people have threatened to murder me before. one time a girl didn’t threaten, and actually acted like she was starting to like me, but her cousin read her diary or something and found out she was planning to commit a lot of murder, and told her parents and she got sent to a psychiatric ward for a couple weeks

my mom lived down the street from a family that got axe-murdered by one of their two sons when she was a kid. the murderer did get out on an insanity plea and is still in the area. also their neighbor’s mom “lost her mind” (how the story was told) when she had to protect their kids while her husband went over to try to protect the non murderer son when he got home from school and ran over screaming about his brother trying to kill him and had killed their parents

also she knew a girl who almost got kidnapped by this really fucked up traveling serial killer that has his own wikipedia page that is,,, lengthy. the girl had [alleged] mafia ties, and the guy ended up dying shot by police despite them being told to bring him in, which sounds kinda suspicious

long story short i’d probably be the sequel where one comes back

apparently i go to the “bad” school, which i found out in a coffee shop when i overheard two girls talking about how one’s dad went there and how horrible and dangerous it is

school fights are weird. either they don’t happen or they come freakishly close to murder. people slam heads into lockers, stomp on bones, drag people by hair along the ground. one time in my brother’s class a 4′9″ girl sent a 6′2″ football player to the hospital. there was video of a fight a couple years ago that’s still around. it was brutal, but also one of the girls fighting was taking one for the team in it and got the other kicked out

we don’t have a ceiling in all of the third floor, and the cafeteria has 2. this is not relevant in any way, but it’s important to me that you know this

also the guys kept ripping the heating vents/radiators/whatever off the walls in their bathrooms and got almost all the bathrooms locked. including the girls’ ones.

also everyone kept punching holes in the walls so on some of them it’s just,,, metal sheeting down the whole hallway

there are so many fucking shootings in the next town over. literally five years ago it was this nice place where kids would go on history tours, i did when my sister worked for that group. now there is pretty much one business that has not been held up at gunpoint, and if u look up to the serial killer bullet point, it is for v similar ties. it’s a pizza place and if u ever stop by u gotta try it

women in my family have weirdly good intuition but every couple generations we get doubtful. my great grandma didn’t want a hospital birth but decided “hey it’s the hot new thing for a reason”, my mom switched churches based on nothing but intuition and it turned out someone was a pedophile there (found out years later), i instantly could tell my friend’s boyfriend was a pos and wasn’t surprised later when he told her he’d murder and dismember me in front of her, and upon meeting him told him he was a fucking coward and couldn’t do it. he broke up with her a month later.

i was really good friends for a while with two guys that burned a building down. yes they were arrested. i was friends before and after the fire. they’re pretty nice, but this girl they used to date (at different times, they were brothers, yes it was fucking weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved except her but that’s it’s own thing) said some fucked up shit and it was the closest i ever got to starting a fight. anyway i’m still friends with both on facebook. one of them shares a lot of king of the hill memes

speaking of that fight, i 100% would’ve tried to kill her in that moment. u know that john mulaney quote like “i didn’t understand how a person could want to kill another person. then i got cheated on, and i was like ‘oh, okay.’”? that was me, but replace “cheated on” with she told me it was good my five year old sister was dead because she was a waste, and told me she hoped i’d die of covid”. it was mainly the sister thing. i couldn’t move because if i did i’d start a fight with the [way] above mentioned shit.

my family has a literal feud with a local farming family. i mean, we keep farm animals (sheep, goats, chickens), these people have that, pigs, and crops too. the feud was because their great uncle (or great grand uncle, i’m a little fuzzy on the details) published an autobiography (despite not being anyone famous/important) and in it talked about when he was friends with my grandfather and how creepy my great grandfather was (this was the one with the dead firstborn son) because he kept newspaper clippings of the Lindbergh baby’s kidnapping and murder pinned to a board on the wall of his office/basement. also because he was a child of german immigrants who wanted to fight against nazis in WW2 (how suspicious [sarcasm]). members of their family are in my grade. they charged my sister for almost half an extra pound of goods, too, which just revitalized it.

i live by corn fields. i am surrounded by cornfields. (joke one)

i was friends for a while with this girl whose baby teeth,,, didn’t really fall out completely? she was 17 the last time i saw her in person, she’s probably 19 now and judging by her facebook pictures they’re still Like That. she had a very symmetrical mouth/teeth, which made it weirder. just to clarify, she had some of her baby teeth pushed forward and up, so they kind pointed out a little? and all her adult teeth. she was literally so pretty.

a teacher who is v sexual with his female students came into my english class (he is a science teacher) to demand why i wasn’t signed up for his class. we then both became increasingly passive aggressive and he told the whole class where i live with specific directions and landmarks. the guy sitting next to me had to try to tone things down despite being obviously confused as to why it was even happening (me too buddy). he lives down the road from my sister. when my niece had her birthday party at our house i was outside setting things up and he slowed his car down and honked at me. fuckin creep

[jeyned]

heya everyone ! i wrote a really long intro / backstory which i’ve linked below, but in case you’re lazy like me i’ve also put a little tl;dr under the cut with the cliffs notes. there’s also a bunch of plot ideas in case anyone is interested ! like this, drop me and IM, or message me on discord ( do you like yuice ?#6373 ) if you want to plot !

⤷ the courts offer bread and salt to jeyne whent née lannister of house whent. many say that the twenty - seven year old ruling lady of harrenhal is known to be lively and insightful, though ill tongues whisper that she is condescending and selfish when her name is uttered , one is reminded of a pretty smile hiding bloodied teeth; the hiss and raised hackles of a cat that thinks itself a lion; a languid and velvety darkness; heartbeat made of war drums. may she be blessed and protected in this war of crowns. ( fc: caitlin stasey )

full backstory   /   statistics page   /   development tag .

              trigger warnings for ; death & murder, illness, forced marriage, misogyny & misogynistic slurs (1), war.

basics.

name.  jeyne whent née lannister. nicknames.  the little lioness. age.  twenty-seven. traits.  + clever, intrepid, lively, protective, insightful, tasteful.          - hypocritical, cruel, condescending, proud, selfish, spiteful. titles.  ruling lady of harrenhal, heir apparent to lannisport. loyalty.  [ lana del rey vc ] money, power, and glory. also the starks of winterfell, i guess.

tl ; dr .

jeyne is the youngest child and only daughter of the lord of lannisport and his wife. well - raised, courtesied, if admittedly spoiled. even as a little girl she plays pretend at being a king. her father teaches her what words like wartime and loyalty and ambition mean ; the sacrifices she must make for their family name, for gold and glory.

the ironborn raids come to the shores of the westerlands and both her brothers are sent to fight. the younger dies first ; there is no body to bury. her mother falls ill with something they can only call grief.

jeyne is married not long after, a rose in bloom at nineteen. when she first hears, she weeps and begs and rages. her father reminds her of her duty, of the joy it would bring her ailing mother. jeyne knows then what must be done, and plans.

when her first husband dies just shy of two years into their marriage, jeyne is irreproachable. he dies in winter, already ill ; goes to sleep coughing and doesn’t wake up. jeyne isn’t even in the castle when it happens, although unfounded rumors fly of witchery and murder. 

nine months pass, and she plays the part of mourning widow exceptionally well. it helps her mummer’s farce that news comes from the war : her remaining brother is dead now too, and her mother’s health is failing. without her brothers, she’s the ostensible heir to lannisport ; her father’s displeasure with this is made quite clear to her. he even suggests she isn’t his ; bearing too many of her mother’s features, not enough of his.

she is remarried quickly to lord lucas whent, without a fraction of the pomp and circumstance of her first wedding ; now a widow, with a reputation tarnished by unproven but incessant whispers, the newest match is rushed, necessary but insignificant. she doesn’t cry or beg this time, just goes coldly.

she hates him before she even meets him, hates the harrenhal the moment she sets eyes on it, hates the cold and the rain and the gloom of the castle and its people. spends all her considerable energies complaining and making life generally miserable for anyone around. 

word arrives that her mother has died ; her father remarries quickly in the hopes of a new male heir, and draws in his nephews and nieces. weighing his options. jeyne prays to the stranger to take them all. 

she resents the lot of them ; her father for using and betraying her, her brother and mothers for leaving her, the ironborn for killing her brothers, the starks for suing for peace and making their deaths worthless, her husband merely for existing. mostly, though, she resents herself, not clever enough to find a way out of the cages she’s been locked in.

plots.

enemies.  the very best plot type and you cannot convince me otherwise. gimme intimately plotted hate-your-guts-smile-to-your-face frenemies who overthink everything the other says and press each others buttons incessantly. gimme ‘our houses have fought each other and i blame your family for this or that’. gimme petty jealousies and annoyances and people too much like her for them to get along. gimme people who think she’s a traitorous, murdering bastard and a whore to boot, and aren’t even wrong to think so.

close friends.  i don’t imagine she has a lot of these ; those not deterred by her reputation often are dissuaded by her personality. still i love the idea of her having a few lords or ladies with whom she gets along quite well, the kind of people you only need to meet briefly to know you understand each other. can be from pretty much anywhere ; stuck at harrenhal i imagine jeyne to be an avid letter-writer. 

cousins.  i’m also considering sending in a wc for this, but gimme all the family plots ! could be paternal cousins, potential contenders for inheriting lannisport, & probably childhood companions. could also be maternal cousins ! i listed her mom as being a westerling but i’m more than happy to change that to another house for plot reasons, it doesn’t really matter ! her father could’ve also had sisters who married into other houses, there’s lots of options.

failed betrothals.  i can imagine her father made a lot of offers, both when she was first getting married and after she was widowed. and i can imagine a lot of reasons why someone might reject that ; she’s a lannister, she’s not .... great as a person and her reputation isn’t phenomenal either. after the death of her first husband, too, i can imagine her prospects were pretty slim. still, the lannisters are ambitious and would have sought out as good as match as they could have. 

family of her late husband.  yea, i specifically didn’t pick a house for her first husband to be from because i wanted to leave ‘em open for other applicants but also because i wanted to leave it open in case it’s a plot anyone would like to take up ! most of the story around that is also very vague so as to fit with pretty much any ideas/plots someone has going on. would be really fun, tho ; possibly they can even have been co-conspirators and this person inherited jeyne’s late husband’s title and lands ? or they absolutely hate jeyne and think she’s a murderer which .... she very well might be.

sister in law.  the widow of jeyne’s older brother, irwyn ; i hc that they had a daughter but tbh that’s just flavor text and i am open to changing pretty much anything i’ve got going on. i may send in a wc for this at some point too ? anyway, whether she stayed at lannisport or returned to her family home or anything, idk. seems like an unlikely connection to get picked up but it’s definitely out there if it happens to fit for someone.

brothers’ connections.  again kind of vague ? would probably work best for men from the northern kingdom who may have known them or trained with them, or else fought alongside them against the ironborn. could also be ladies with pretty much any kind of attachment to either of them idk ; jeyne doesn’t have a whole lot of family left so this is my way of trying to have connections thru her family anyway.

childhood friends.  idk how many characters from the westerlands there are around rn, but bring them to me pls. would love some childhood friends for jeyne ; whether they fell out of touch, or still write each other monthly letters. them being a ward at lannisport, or jeyne being a ward at theirs for a time is also a neat option ! 

allies.  not quite friends, but potential partners whose ambitions align with hers. she has connections to the wealth of lannisport and the might and strategic position of harrenhal ( though harrenhal is truly weaker than she’d ever admit ) and honestly would support just about anyone if it meant she got lannisport. she’s power hungry what can i say ? 

former flings / secret lovers.  firstly these can be of any gender as jeyne is ... peak evil bisexual tbh. yes i’m queercoding my villain and i think that’s very sexy of me. these are also just pretty vague ideas, and absolutely do not need to be particularly romantic ; they could have had a more lengthy affair or just hooked up at a wedding or a tourney or something. 

travellers.  both lannisport and harrenhal are pretty common places to pass through. on a sea journey on the western coast one is likely to stop by lannisport, and harrenhal stands practically at the center of westeros, which is a fun opportunity for jeyne & your muse to have met even if they live very far way or are unlikely to have met in other ways ! especially considering harrenhal’s size it’s a good stop over for travellers with a larger retinue. idk i just want an excuse to plot with everyone.

[johnhardinsawyer]

This is Love

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

4 / 18 / 21 – Third Sunday of Easter[1]

1 John 3:16-24

John 10:11-18

“This is Love”[2]

(Loving in Truth and Action)

My family and I recently went on a socially-distanced trip to a town near the ocean.  My wife and I were excited about going to the town.  But, our almost-four-year-old son was excited about to going to the ocean.  Guess whose excitement won out?  So, there we were, standing on a windy New England beach at 9:30 on a brisk April morning – jackets zipped up, layers of clothes on top, pants rolled up to our knees, and barefoot in the sand.  It was downright chilly, but our son was having a blast.  He just loves to dig and dig in the sand and doesn’t seem to mind the cold.  My wife and I, knowing that we might only get one shot with experiences like this, decided to go with the flow on the morning in question.  So, when my son grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go in the water, daddy,” guess where I went?  I only went in up to my ankles, but the waves were so cold that it felt like the bones in my feet instantly turned into individual ice cubes.  I knew it wouldn’t last long, though, and my son’s shrieks of chilly glee warmed my heart as we ran back out of the water.  “Well,” I thought to myself in the moment, “This is love.”

“We know love by this,” writes the author of 1 John, “that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . .  Let us love not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3:16, 18)

She woke up early, just like she used to before the pandemic began.  It used to be that early in the morning was all the time she had for herself.  This was still the case, but instead of having a few quiet moments to collect her thoughts, she rolled out of bed and turned on the computer, nearby.  Her clients and coworkers needed her input and her undivided attention, and she knew that pretty soon, she would have to rouse her kids from bed and get them fed and ready for online school.  Single-mom parenting is hard enough, but single-mom parenting, and full-time working and full-time at-home-schooling is so much harder.  And yet, kids need to learn and a salary needs to be earned.  She finished an e-mail, closed her laptop – hoping she’d find some time to get back to those e-mails later in the day – and she went down the hall to wake her kids up.  Before she knocked on their door, she took a deep breath and thought, “This is love.”

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . .  Let us love not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3:16, 18)

It was so hot when he arrived at the detention center – not as hot as it had been the week before out in the desert of the borderlands, but it was still hot.  As an immigration and customs enforcement officer, he had seen plenty of children come through the detention center.  Some of them were very young.  The child he was looking for this morning was four years old.  She had been separated from her aunt and cousin after they had made the dangerous journey from Guatemala to the US border.  The little girl was alone, now, and would not stop crying for her mother who was already on this side of the border, seeking asylum from some horrific situation down in Guatemala.  She had come here for a better life and was hoping that her young daughter would have a better life, too.  The authorities were transferring the girl to a foster care home in Michigan for several days, after which the little girl would be released to her mother.  But it was hard for the officer to try to explain all of this to the little girl, even in the most gentle of ways.  Why was this job so hard?  There were thousands of children like this little girl.  Why did he care so much?  He wanted the best for his country and he really wanted to help people.  God, what on earth was this child’s mother thinking?  What on earth was he doing with his own life?  And then, in a moment of clarity, he realized that the answer to both of these complicated questions was the same:  “This is love.”[3]

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . .  Let us love not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3:16, 18)

For a whole year – shift after shift at the hospital – she had been intubating patients, holding their hands in fear, and zipping body bags in the ER.  And, for a whole year – Sunday after Sunday – she had been waiting to go to church with her children.  On the Sunday she finally went, no one – in a room of 200 people – was wearing a face mask, except for her family.  After church, she was so infuriated that she wrote:

I’m sorry that the majority of churches I’ve seen are failing their communities.  I’m sorry that the Body of Christ is not representing Him well in this area.  It’s heart-breaking and so disappointing.  Because what the church is saying is, “I don’t care that you buried your husband last month.  I don’t care that your grandmother is on her 50th day on the ventilator.  I don’t care that the rest of the world is doing a better job serving and protecting their community than the church.  I don’t care unless it directly affects me.”[4]

“Just because it hasn’t happened to them, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t care that it happens,” she thought, angrily.  And yet, shift after shift, she still kept going back to work at the hospital.  Her co-workers all felt the same way she did: physically and emotionally exhausted by the pandemic and the sick irony of some of their dying patients not believing that Covid-19 was still killing people.  And yet, as she donned two face masks, a gown, two pairs of gloves, and a face shield to walk into another patient’s room, she repeated the same phrase that had kept her going all these months:  “This is love.”[5]

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . .  Let us love not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3:16, 18)

Years ago, my daddy worked with a man named Gordon Davis.  One of the first things that I learned about Gordon, was that his brother, Rodney, had died in Vietnam in 1967.  Sergeant Rodney Maxwell Davis and his unit of Marines were attacked by the enemy and were pinned down by mortars and heavy gunfire.  Sergeant Davis crawled from man to man to encourage them.  But an enemy hand grenade fell in the trenches his men were fighting from, and without hesitation he threw himself upon the grenade.  Sergeant Davis’ Medal of Honor citation describes it in this way:

When an enemy grenade landed in the trench in the midst of his men, Sergeant Davis, realizing the gravity of the situation, and in a final valiant act of complete self-sacrifice, instantly threw himself upon the grenade, absorbing with his own body the full and terrific force of the explosion. Through his extraordinary initiative and inspiring valor in the face of almost certain death, Sergeant Davis saved his comrades from injury and possible loss of life. . .[6]

This is love.

Back in 1967, when Sergeant Davis was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, his hometown did not allow black people to be buried inside the city limits.  So, he was buried in an all-black cemetery, out of town.  In 2010, several Marines who were white, including one of the men who had been saved by Sergeant Davis, stopped by the cemetery and were appalled by the state of the rotten wooden monument on his grave.  So, they raised money to replace it.  This, too, is love.

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . .  Let us love not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3:16, 18)

I don’t know whether you know someone who has laid down their life for you, but chances are, you know someone who has made some kind of sacrifice for you – someone who has laid down part of their life or a whole way of life for you or for someone else. . .    This is love. . .  The man who visits his wife for hours, every day, even though she cannot remember his name.  The woman who gives someone the very thing they need, only to see it squandered, and yet she loves them still.  The parent who puts important plans on hold because their child made the playoffs.  The woman who lives so simply and frugally for so many years and surprises everyone by leaving a tremendous gift when she dies.  The person who says, “Whatever you need. . .” and means it.  The veteran of the war in Afghanistan and Iraq, the patient daughter, the loving and dutiful son, the co-worker going the extra mile, the caring Elder or Deacon on the phone, the friend, the stranger, the person who has something to offer and does not withhold it when they see the need is great, whoever it is that is giving themselves, and their time, and energy, and money, and skills, and gifts away because they love. . .  

This is love. . . in truth and action.

As the Bible tells us, if we have any doubt as to whether we are loving with enough truth and action, then maybe we could love more.  “But if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before God. . .” (1 John 3:21)  

So, friends. . . love boldly in truth and action – not with mere words or speech.  Talk is cheap.  But giving your life by loving in truth and action?  This is the most precious gift we can give – a gift modeled after the example set by Jesus Christ, who, in his birth, and life, and ministry, and miracles, and teaching, and death, and resurrection shows us what it means to lay down our lives for others in truth and action.  

“We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us – and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. . . Let us love not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” (1 John 3:16, 18)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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

[1] The readings for this week have been swapped with the Fourth Sunday of Easter to accommodate a guest preacher next week.

[2] A sermon in the style of Fred R. Craddock.

[3] Imagined, based on the following story:  https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/immigration/some-migrants-now-sending-their-kids-across-border-alone-so-n1261249.

[4] S in early March, 2021.

[5] Imagined and expanded, based on S’s story as well as radio interviews with nurses during the pandemic.  With gratitude for S and all hospital workers.

[6] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rodney_Maxwell_Davis.

[thestarkerisobvious]

Superbarbie

amazing art work by @starker-sorbet​         

A snugglefic for @mrstarksbabyy​ 

With great thanks for the betaread by @mrstarksbaby​

You know who you are.

Sixteen:    The DeSlaughter House

3    Superbarbie

He had come up with a story about what happened to him in the shed, but no one ever asked.  That summer Buddy’s 15-year-old cousin had shot his mother’s boyfriend in the shoulder and accidentally killed him.  He hadn’t missed, he had shot the man through the door at point-blank range, but the bullet had ricocheted  off a bone in the man’s shoulder and went straight into his heart.  There was no arrest of course, Buddy’s cousin’s mom was a widow whose husband  had been a police officer up until he died.  No one particularly cared that the town drunk was dead, but everybody had something to say about it.  The shed had been completely forgotten.

Peter had never spoken about it to anyone, including Tony.  The only boy Peter had ever mentioned at home was Mike, and now he was incredibly grateful.  If only he hadn’t found out about what Mike had been saying behind his back…

The first thing he saw as the DeSlaughter house came into view, swimming dangerously before his eyes, was Monica coming at him at a dead run, her arms outstretched.

Peter���s heart would have pounded if it hadn’t already been pounding so hard his chest ached.  All he could hear was the blood roaring in his ears.  All he could think of was Tony slipping into the bed of some old “biddy” and taking the “light” from her brain first.  So it wouldn’t hurt.  As Monica came within shouting distance he braced himself for the terrible news.

“Superbarbie is going to save you!!” 

All the DeSlaughter dogs were following her, all four, panting and wagging their tails.  Peter gaped as he realized why Monica was running – her Barbie, naked except for part of a red bandanna that it was wearing as a cape, had been flying out to rescue him. 

“Where’s Mike?”  was all he could get out.

“Watchin’ Saturday-munnin-cartoons.  Sit’s Transformers.  I’m not allowed to watch onaccounta’  it’s for boys.  Jem is already over so’s you can’t watch it with me .  Superbarbie is going to SAVE you Peter!!”

Peter fought back tears as Monica led him back to the house, running circles around him and describing, in detail, how Superbarbie was saving him.  Once upon a time he had regretted ever letting Monica know that he loved superhero comic books.  Now it was all he could do not to stop Superbarbie in mid-flight to hug the girl who invented her.  The DeSlaughter’s were alright.  All the DeSlaughter dogs, at least, were accounted for.  Whatever else Tony had done last night, he hadn’t hurt Mike.

Mrs. DeSlaughter stepped out onto the large wooden deck and waved to him energetically.  Like the Lovelaces, the DeSlaughter’s lived in a Mobile home.  Unlike the Lovelaces, however, the DeSlaughter house was immaculate, despite the three children that lived inside, and full of recent renovations.  Mr. DeSlaughter and his sons had built a backdoor deck almost the same size as the house itself.  As Peter climbed the steps to the deck he was surprised to hear Mrs. DeSlaughter greeting him as if she were overjoyed to see him.  As far as he could tell, this was the first time she had spoken to him since they had met.

“Have you had breakfast?” she asked, and Peter blinked at the question.  Of course he hadn’t stopped to eat breakfast.  He had barely stopped long enough to put on his shoes.

A moment later he was still blinking in confusion, only now he was sitting at the DeSlaughter’s kitchen table, in between a chattering Monica and Mike’s silent brother Matthew, with Mrs. DeSlaughter cooking breakfast for him as if she had been doing it all her life.  

“I had a dream about you,” Matthew declared in an accusatory tone during a brief pause in Monica’s continuing saga of Superbarbie and her husband Superken.  “I’m sorry,” Peter said, wilting under his glare.

“Matthew, be polite.  It’s so funny that you came by, Peter, we were just talking about you.  How is your Aunt?  I have been meaning to call her.  I was just saying to Mike, ‘Why haven’t you invited Peter over for dinner?  I’m so glad you came over…”

“My dog died,” Peter said woodenly.  Matthew was still glaring at him, and Superbarbie was currently climbing up and sitting on his shoulder.  He felt like he was in a play and struggling to remember his lines.  “I came to tell Mike.  There’s a big raccoon dead in our yard too, and I thought you should know.”

“Oh, you should talk to Mike’s dad.  He can tell you if it was snakes.  We’ll have you all over for dinner.  The whole family.  We can eat on the deck.  Mike’s dad can bar-be-q.”

“Hey Peter, come see something,” Mike called as he entered the kitchen and walked straight through the opposite door, never once looking in Peter’s direction.  Peter excused himself and hurried after him.

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

Another, longer, chapter tomorrow.

Master (Post)

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Études: Fifty Kisses: Forty-Third Kiss

Études: Fifty Lukadrien Kisses: Forty-Third Kiss

(Prompt Forty-Three: A kiss pressed to the top of the head.)

“Okay. Sit here so that I can help you,” Luka instructed, patting the spot on the couch between his legs.

Louis eagerly climbed up and held his hands out for the baby. “Papa, I can do it. I know how. You showed me.”

“Yes, but it’s very important that you do it exactly right,” Luka replied with a calming tone and a soft smile as he eased Hugo down into Louis’s arms, letting Louis support most of the weight but keeping a hand under Hugo’s head. “See. You’re doing it. You’re doing a good job, Loulou.”

“I’m a good big brother,” Louis announced proudly.

“Yes, you are,” Adrien affirmed, chuckling as he came up from behind, leaning over the back of the couch to press kisses to the sides of Louis and Luka’s heads in quick succession. “I’m really proud of you, Lou.”

Louis giggled happily as he looked back over his shoulder to Luka. “Can I feed him? I wa’a feed him.”

“It’s not time now, but I’ll come get you when it is, and you can give him his bottle, okay?” Luka offered appeasingly.

“Oookaaay,” Louis sighed, obviously disappointed but, oddly, not making a big deal out of it.

“No one is paying attention to me,” Emma whined, coming over from where she’d been coloring at the kitchen table to hang off of the back of the couch. “All you guys do nowadays is bring home new babies and fuss over them, and no one is paying attention to me.”

“I’ll pay attention to you, Sweetie,” Adrien offered, giving her inky black hair a gentle pet.

“I want Papa,” Emma asserted, pulling away.

“Emmie,” Luka chided. “You’re too old to be acting like this.”

“Pay attention to me,” Emma demanded sulkily. “You never pay attention to me anymore since we got them.” She pointed accusatorially at her younger brothers.

“I’ll pay ‘tention to you, Emmie,” Louis offered.

“Hey,” Adrien called softly, reaching out again to place a hand between Emma’s shoulder blades and guide her towards the parlor. “Come on. Let’s go play piano together. Show me how good you’re getting.”

Emma grumbled under her breath but consented to be led away.

They sat down side by side on the bench, and Adrien began leafing through the piles of sheet music that had somehow accumulated over the years.

“How about this? I know you and Luka were working on this one.” He placed Debussy’s Petite Suite for four hands on the stand in front of them.

Emma grumbled under her breath but ultimately put her hands into position. “Ready? I’ll count six and then we go.”

“Ready when you are,” Adrien assured, doing a quick scan of the key and time signature and determining that he should be able to sight read without too much trouble. It wouldn’t be perfect, but his father wasn’t there to critique the performance, and Luka and Adrien made a point of not exacting perfection from their children or themselves.

They played the first movement of the piece, En Bateau, with all the serenity of a peaceful body of water mixed with the exuberance and fun of a sunny day of sailing.

It wasn’t perfect. Emma was still learning, and she didn’t have a real love of the piano that inspired her to play over and above what was required to progress in her lessons. Adrien didn’t expect she would ever truly be good, but she was good enough. They mainly had their children take lessons for the personal enrichment of learning a skill, the sense of accomplishment when a piece went well, the discipline learned from practice, the cultural experience of being exposed to music, and so that they would all have an activity in common as a family. It didn’t matter that Emma was mediocre.

“You know…” Adrien cleared his throat at the end of the first movement. “This is my old piano.”

“Mmhm,” Emma confirmed disinterestedly, picking out pitches, improvising a wandering tune.

“I used to play like you and I just did with my mother.” He swallowed down the emotion that welled up when he thought of her. “That was really special for me…. I never really liked the piano until I met your father, though.”

Adrien’s fingers started to move on the keys, harmonizing with Emma’s melody.

“Luka was the one that made me really love piano…. I realize that you don’t love piano right now, Emmie, but I hope you’ll like it better someday because, as special as playing with my mom was, what’s even more special is sharing this with you. It’s like…all three of us are connected by this piano. Maybe this means nothing to you right now, but…I hope that it will someday. I hope someday you’ll play this piano with your own children.”

Emma stopped playing to look up at Adrien in surprise. “You’re not going to give it to Louis or Hugo?”

Adrien blinked down at his daughter. “Well…I mean…you’re the oldest. It only seems right to offer it to you first.”

“But…” Emma bit her lip, looking down at her hands and hesitantly picking out dissonant keys before hitting on a sequence that worked. “…It’s your piano. I just thought you’d want to give it to your own children.”

Adrien stared at Emma in shock. “What?”

“I know that I’m not really your daughter,” Emma mumbled.

“Who the hell told you that?” Adrien tried not to snap, but he couldn’t help the seething edge to his voice.

“I figured it out,” Emma confessed. “After Louis was born. When I started to go to school and I realized that everyone else had a mommy and a daddy, but I didn’t. And the other kids said that I had to have a mommy because everyone has a mommy except for the girl with the braids whose mommy died, so I asked Auntie Juleka because my cousins don’t have a daddy, so I thought the kids at school were wrong.” Emma took a deep breath and switched keys into C minor. “Then Auntie Juleka explained how Auntie Rose was really my mommy and how you and Papa were really my cousins’ daddies but how you and Papa were raising me instead of Papa and Auntie Rose because Auntie Rose is in love with Auntie Juleka and Papa loves you. So…I know I’m not your daughter…and I know that Louis and Hugo and Josephine and Violetta are your real children, so it makes more sense to give the piano to one of them.”

“Emmie,” Adrien called gently. “Look at me.” He stilled her hands with his own, wrapping his fingers around hers.

She looked up at him with Luka’s ice blue eyes.

“Baby, you may not be mine biologically, but that doesn’t make you any less my daughter,” he explained, voice almost cracking with emotion. “I have been there with you every step along the way: when we first found out you were coming, your first photos on the ultrasound, when you first started to kick, the day you were born…. I’ve fed you and clothed you and bathed you. I’ve changed your diapers and held you when you cried. I’ve taken care of you when you were sick and sung to you when you’ve had nightmares. I’ve been there for birthdays and holidays and all the boring, normal days in between. I taught you how to brush your teeth and tie your shoes. Emma, even though I’m not related to you by blood, I have done everything a father is supposed to do and more. I love you just the same as I love Louis and Hugo.”

“But you don’t fuss over me the way you do them,” Emma mumbled, voice small and sad.

“I did when you were little like them,” Adrien countered. “You were too young to remember, but I held you and fed you and carried you around in a sling just like I do Hugo.”

Her eyes widened. “You did?”

“I did,” Adrien confirmed. “In fact, you got even more attention than Hugo because, at that point, you were the only one Luka and I had to worry about. We lavished all of our attentions on you. You didn’t have to share with another sibling like Louis and Hugo. When you were a baby, it was all about you all the time.”

“I don’t remember,” Emma giggled.

“Trust me,” Adrien chuckled, pulling Emma into a hug. “We were at your mercy…. I’m sorry if it feels like we’re neglecting you lately with adding Louis and Hugo to the family. I promise you, we don’t love you any less even though we’ve got two other children to love now. Do you think it would help if Luka and I made time to do things with just you? Would you like to have Daddy-Daughter time? Maybe go see a play together or the ballet or maybe just go to Angelina’s and get hot chocolate and mont blancs? Just you and me?”

Emma pulled back, eyes going wide. She drew in a large breath and exclaimed, “Angelina’s! Can we? And then Tom and Sabine’s for macarons! Can we?”

“This afternoon,” Adrien promised.

“Yes! Thank you, Daddy!” Emma trilled, leaning in to give Adrien’s cheek a kiss.

“You’re very welcome, My Little One,” Adrien cooed, nuzzling her midnight black hair. “Never forget that you have two parents who love you very, very much. Not everyone is lucky enough to have that, but you do. Please don’t ever doubt that. If you ever start feeling neglected again, say something, Darling. I never want you to feel like that, okay?” He gave her one last squeeze and then let go to look her in the eye.

Emma nodded. “Okay…. I’m gonna go draw some more now, okay?”

“Okay, Sweetie.” Adrien gave her a pat on the shoulder and let her go. “Have fun.”

And she was off, racing past Luka on her way back to the kitchen.

Adrien smiled sheepishly at his husband. “How long have you been standing there?”

Luka grimaced, readjusting Hugo in his sling as he came over to Adrien at the piano. “Louis got tired of holding the baby since it wasn’t feeding time, so he went to color pretty much as soon as you and Emmie left. I’ve been loitering in the doorway since then, listening to you guys play Debussy…eavesdropping on your conversation…. Are you okay, Perfect Fifth?”

Adrien winced. “Still kind of smarting that my daughter’s been thinking that she wasn’t really my daughter for three years.”

Luka leaned in and gently placed a kiss to the top of Adrien’s head.

Adrien stood up to wrap his arms around Luka, resting his head on Luka’s other shoulder, opposite Hugo, careful not to jostle the baby.

Luka held him tight, and they just stood there breathing in and out, letting the time tick by unaccounted for for several minutes.

Adrien took a deep inhale and pulled back. “Thanks.”

“Any time, My Love,” Luka assured with an adoring smile. “…Want to play something together?”

Adrien motioned to the piano questioningly with his head.

Luka nodded.

A shy smile slowly spread across Adrien’s lips. “Okay, but I’m not as good as you, Monsieur Professional Pianist Agreste-Couffaine.”

Luka shrugged. “You’re not bad. I’ll let you bottom.”

“I’d hit you for that, but you’re currently wearing our son,” Adrien snorted.

“That’s okay. You’ll get me back for it tonight, I’m sure,” Luka chuckled, sitting down on the bench and flipping the Debussy score to movement number three, Menuet.

“I most definitely will,” Adrien promised, already concocting plans.

Luka smiled coyly. “But seriously. Which part do you want to play?”

“The bottom part,” Adrien grumbled, sitting down to Luka’s left and lightly hip-checking his husband. “I like the low registers better.”

“I know you do,” Luka laughed.

“I’m going to bite you,” Adrien threatened…and then actually carried through.

[46ten]

AH and Peter Lavien connections, part 2

See part 1 here. I left off at John Kean becoming Cashier of the Bank of the U.S., 25Oct 1791, and thereafter working pretty much constantly with AH, the man whose half-brother he was in a partnership with in the early 1780s. But this was not the only way Kean and AH were tied together. 

In 1786, Kean moved to NYC and married Susan Livingston (1759-1833). Susan was the daughter of Peter Van Brugh Livingston (1710-1792) and therefore niece of William Livingston (the one AH lived with for a time) and first cousin to Sarah (married to Jay), Susannah (Suki), Catharine (Kitty) and 10 other W.Livingston/Susannah French kids. Since Susan was also one of EH’s cousins, Kean and AH were now related by marriage. 

Susan L. Kean is included in the “Subscriptions for the Relief of the foregoing [French Distressed Persons] written by AH in 1793. The subscribers are listed (in their own handwriting/signatures) as:

Mary Morris.—10 dollars Eliza Hamilton—20 dollars Th Cazenove—Ten dollars Susan Kean 5 Dols.

Unfortunately, John Kean died in 1795, and Susan became a widow. A few years after, AH offered her some financial advice in response to her request. It shows the closeness of the families (and again AH writes things that can be viewed as inappropriate when writing to his wife’s female relatives):

New York Jany 23. 1799

HONORED MADAM

How do you like, My dear friend, this mode of beginning my letter? Just as well, I presume, as I did the counterpart of it in your letter of the 18th instant, which reached me only yesterday. Are you now to be told that the more familiarly you treat me, the more you will gratify my friendship and regard for you?

You consult me on a subject about which I have less skill than you suppose & much less than many others. But whatever my advice may be worth it is at your command whenever you imagine it can be of use to you. You appear desirous of promptly knowing my opinion. According to my present lights, you will do well to invest the money you have, partly in the purchase of the Stock of the New York Insurance Company and partly in the proposed loan. I like different investments because it divides whatever of risk may be. Either of these objects will give you good interest for your money. The chance is that both will rise rather than fall in price. Both are in my apprehension safe.

Loans on real security give too little income with great trouble in the collection. And in times of great national calamity, which alone can endanger other securities, that of real property, we have seen, is not without its hazards. By watching the course of things, it is possible to anticipate dangers and to slip out of them. You ladies know better than anybody else how to make a good retreat from slippery and perilous ground.

Eliza and Angelica reciprocate the tender of affection. My friend Peter [Peter Philip James Kean, her 10-year-old son] must take care by becoming a very clever fellow to deserve success & ’tis many to one that he will then command it.

Adieu My Dear Madam

Here enters Julian Ursin Niemcewicz (1758–1841), former aide to Tadeusz Kosciuszko. Upon their release in 1796, Niemcewicz came to the U.S., eventually settling in Elizabethtown, NJ. He became the tutor of Peter P.J. Kean, and in 1800 married the mom, Susan L. Kean, but (was probably forced to) renounced any claim to her property. This is what Founders includes: “He visited Poland 1802–04 to settle his father’s estate. Never entirely comfortable in the United States, he parted amicably with his wife and her son in 1807, after the formation of the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, and returned to Europe for good.” 

If you want to keep going down the line, Peter P.J. Kean (1788-1828) eventually becomes owner of William Livingston’s Liberty Hall property (read more about that, Susan L. Kean renaming it Ursino after her second husband, and Kean University here). Peter married Sarah Sabina; one of their children was Julia Kean (1816-1887), who married Hamilton Fish (1808-1893), the son of Nicholas Fish. The Keans become a political dynasty in NY/NJ, continuing to intermarry in the old Dutch NY/NJ families and becoming senators, governors, and on and on. Currently, Tom Kean Jr is a Republican minority leader in the NJ Senate running for U.S. Congress. (Watch a campaign video if you doubt that they pronounce the surname as “Kane.”) And all from John Kean coming to NY, supported in part by money and connections from Peter Lavien, AH’s half-brother. Not that much different from AH’s own story.

Back to the main parties. Peter Lavien spent way less time with their mother, Rachel, than AH did. But were there other things about the past that he would have shared with someone like John Kean? Did AH and Kean talk about their sorta shared history? Did Kean provide him with more information about the Lavien family, or did that come from AH’s Lytton relatives or others? Did any of that information make its way to AH’s description of John Michael Lavien in the copy of his 1800 letter to William Jackson/James McHenry?:

A Dane [Lavien was neither Jewish nor Danish] a fortune-hunter of the name of Lavine came to Nevis bedizzened with gold, and paid his addresses to my mother then a handsome young woman having a snug fortune. In compliance with the wishes of her mother who was captivated by the glitter of the ..but against her own inclination she married Lavine. The marriage was unhappy and ended in a separation by divorce. .. But unluckily it turned out that the divorce was not absolute but qualified, and thence the second marriage was not lawful. Hence when my mother died the small property which she left went to my half brother Mr Lavine who lived in South Carolina and was for a time partner with Mr Kane. He is now dead.

AH is still spelling it Kane! (In fairness, AH also knew a James Kane, an Albany merchant, though unrelated to John Kean.) 

It shows how much knowledge was out there about AH and his past, which is why I’ve always side-eyed the “lying about his birth year” stuff and this narrative that AH was embarrassed about/tried to hide his background. Even if he did, it would have been impossible. There were connections everywhere. 

And BTW, 150 pounds sterling (British) is today the equivalent of about 24,000 pounds. It wasn’t a shabby sum that Peter Lavien left to his half-brothers. 

[hollowlegend]

IzuOcha Week 2020 day 1

Our flight over from Japan to Hawaii wasn't as long as I was expecting, only 8 hours in total. After we got off the plane, Ochako’s parents were ecstatic to finally be here. It's hard getting any time off when you are The Symbol of Heroism itself. Ochako and I have been dating since our third year at UA high and got together when the Meta Liberation Army attacked UA and I saved her life knowing that if she died I couldn't go on. That was five years ago and I haven't told her the true meaning to our little vacation. As far as she's aware we are bringing her parents here to spend 3 months in a five star resort on the main island. Not to flex on anyone or seem ungrateful but when you're a top ten hero let alone the number one pro hero, money isn't an object anymore. I don't do my job for it's ridiculous 12 digit salary, I do it because it is the right thing to do. The real reason I brought Ochako’s family here, including her of course, is to propose to Ochako. 

    Once collecting our bags from the baggage claim we make our way to the rental car center and then freak out slightly because they don't drive on the same side of the road as we do in Japan. Once collecting our car from the rental office we leave the airport destined for the main resort on the Island. King Kamehameha’s Palace resort, sounds like something out of dragon ball but apparently he was an actual person. Unlike the resort because the Author couldn't be bothered to look up a resort in Hawaii and is now having me break the fourth wall to let you all know that it's fake as far as he is aware, and seriously stop with the comments about fixing the wall I'm just going to break it again because the Author wants me to. Anyways, the resort is absolutely massive and when we arrive both Ochako's Mother, Tousa, and my brunette lover herself, pass out from seeing the lavish building that looks like it's made of gold. We get separate rooms and make our way to the east penthouse suite and Ochako’s parents are in the west one. 

“I can't believe it Izuku! This is amazing! Everything is so nice! The soap looks like it costs 10,000,000 yen to hold! And the bed feels so soft! We need a bed like this in the house!” Ochako exclaims as she sets down her toiletry bag and flops on the massive bed. I smile at her reaction before unpacking my bag and putting it in the drawers by my side of the bed. 

“You say that but most nights you end up sleeping curled around me like our little Mochi and Udon. Speaking of, do you think they will be fine staying with Eri and my mom? She already has 5 cats so the two rowdy kittens might be a little bit of trouble.” I respond thinking of our twin tuxedo kittens whose coats are the inverse of the other. One being black on most of her belly aside from her stomach and her brother being the opposite.    

“Eri will probably be snuggling with them all day. For cats those two are surprisingly lazy. Izuku… I never got to thank you for everything. Saving my life, going out of your way to raise my self esteem, training with me when you unlocked float, everything you've done with me or for me.” She says hugging me and laying her head on my chest. I rub my arm along her shoulder and kiss the top of her head.       

“You don't need to thank me Ochako, everything I did, I did for you because it is the right thing to do. Out of everyone that I have saved during my hero career, you were the first one in real danger when no one else was going to help. Kacchan doesn't count since All Might was the one who dealt with the villain after I ran in there attempting to free him. Always remember you were the first I saved, and the first and last I will love. There will be no one else except for you my sweet mochi.” I respond pinching her chubby cheeks slightly which causes her to pout adorably in response.  

“What time is it Izuku?” She asks as I pull my other arm around her and look at the time. 

“Well we need to get ready because we are going to a Luau soon. Which one did you want to do?” I ask as she breaks our little embrace and walks over to the desk where she put the brochure. 

“Hmm… I don't want to go to the whole scripted one that the hotel is holding all that much. Sure it is fun but we don't get to meet anyone local who enjoys themself instead of working. Let's go to Germain’s luau instead of the King Kamehameha one that one kinda sounds lame.” She says causing me to laugh to myself a little bit. 

“I'll text Maruki and let him know which one we are doing. Now How about we go see what that 360 degree shower is all about shall we?” I say causing her to blush as I pick her up bridal style and we head into our bathroom to get ready.

After getting ready and making our way down stairs we meet Ochako’s parents on the way to the bottom floor. Once down there we head to the parking lot and await the arrival of the bus taking us to the luau. As we were waiting, I told Maruki of what I had planned for this evening to which he gives me a look I have never seen before in anyone, even my father All Might had never literally glowed with excitement at what I had said. Once the initial shock wore off he slapped me on the back and said that he better have grandkids very soon. Not long after the bus arrived and we along with several other people including a rather fluffy hisapnic man wearing a hawaiian shirt got on the bus. We sat towards the middle and talked amongst the other passengers including that fellow who is very very funny. Soon the man hosting the party gets on the intercom and addresses us.    

“Hel- turn that down bro. Ehem Hello everybody. Welcome to Germain’s luau my name is Rino and you can call me cousin Rino just don't ask for any money y’know what i'm sayin’.” He says in english and I translate to Ochako and her parents, I learned it from Dad-Might and David Shield. “Now do you all have any questions?” 

Several other passengers started asking questions about the weather and if and or when we would get anything to eat. He responded in a way I wasn't quite expecting which caused me to laugh a little bit. Soon he takes a seat next to the driver and we exit from the resort and head towards the Luau. As we were driving through the tropical island we admired the view from the windows as Ochako and her mother gabbed on about our homelife and why we haven't bought a massive estate like most heroes own. She goes on to tell her mother that most of my money I give to charity and keep more than enough in savings incase we get sick of our apartment or if we are going to have a baby and need another room. Eri would be ecstatic if we were having a son or daughter. Though she's only 11 right now I can definitely tell that she not only will be an amazing hero but end up getting married to Kota by the way the act around each other. We arrived at a private beach with a gazebo of palm tree leaves strung with lights with tables and an open bar nearby. It took us quote ‘Hawaiian time’ to arrive at this private beach and all being said it was very nice for a small venue. 

We got off the bus and made our way around the tables and chairs before getting served our dinner by a massive barbeque pit behind the bar. Along the beach there is flaming limbo, a flaming coal walk and fire spinners. For some reason they really really like fire. Ochako’s mother and father order a tropical hard drink in a coconut and I notice that Ochako turned down the chance to drink the alcoholic beverage they were serving. She's always been a lightweight when it comes to drinking and doesn't do it too often so it didn't surprise me all that much. As we make small talk the event starts and one by one people start doing the various activities they have planned here. Some people trying the limbo, others watching the fire twirlers and fire breathers while others took turns walking across the coals. Ochako’s parents did every single activity there was at this event. When Ochako leaves to use the bathroom I walk over to the DJ and hand him 20$ saying that I need to make an announcement and to let me use the mic. He agrees and says that he doesn't need the twenty so I put it back in my pocket and simply thank him as well as hand him an autograph for his son. After Ochako comes back from the bathroom Germain in the booth gather’s everyone’s attention. 

“I hope you guys have been having a good time but this Malou here has an announcement to make. Take it away Deku.” He says handing me the mic and causing several people to gasp and take out their phones to record and take pictures of me. 

“Thanks Germain, Now the first person I saved before becoming a hero is here tonight enjoying this Luau. Will the number 5 hero Uravity come up here please? I have a very important question to ask you.” I say and I can visibly see Ochako’s eyes widen to the size of grapefruits after registering what I had said. “Everyone here knows we have always been a couple from Day 1 of our hero career. They know that we've dated for a long time and I think it's finally time to tie the knot.” I say before getting down on one knee and pulling out a gold ring with a paragon pink diamond as the centerpiece. “My hero, My best friend and My love Ochako Uravity Uraraka, Will you make me the happiest hero alive and marry me?” I ask trying to keep my composure and not stutter. 

“Y-YES IZUKU!!!! I WILL MARRY YOU!!!” She shouts before tackling me into the sand and peppering my face in kisses repeatedly. Everyone in the audience claps seeing this and cheers as we kiss each other for the first time as an engaged couple. I slip the ring on her finger before She herself goes over and grabs the mic from the sand.

“Izuku there's also an important thing I need to tell you. My number one hero and soon to be husband… I'm pregnant.” She says then I immediately pass out.   

[theharlequinwriter]

Guided Arrow ..........part 1

Summary : Being Thea’s twin sister and also part of team arrow when you wake up in the another universe alone and no way home.

warnings : Swear words and PTSD 

word count : 2,402

Before I knew it Barry was reaching for my hand and we were falling down a building and then  well I don’t really know all I saw was white and when I woke up I was one the side of the road soaking wet and clearly not in star city anymore.

‘’Ollie!!......Speedy......BARRY!!!!.’’

No one answered.

‘’what the fuck happened?’’

Pulling my hood back I put my mask in my pocket and threw my bow over my back and started to walk sticking my thumb out every other foot. Finally reaching a nearby diner I asked for a booth and a cup of coffee while I pulled out all my gadgets trying to find Felicity’s or Barry's voice trying to find me.

‘’you look like you’re lost’’

Darting my head up I saw a man with blue eyes, black hair and oddly a trench coat.

‘’you can say I am in a way.’’

I winked at him as his very handsome friends walked over.

‘’Cas what the hell are you doing?’’

‘’Talking to miss.... I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.’’

‘’y/n Queen’’

‘Names Sam and Dean Winchester’’

The taller one with the long hair stuck out his hand towards me, grabbing his hand I could feel the caclus on his palm from oddly enough....a gun.

‘’So, Cas said you’re lost?’’

Dean asked as he shuffled into my booth.... uninvited.

‘’Yeah, I guess, the last thing I remember is reaching for flash.......my friends hand as I fell then everything went black. I woke up on the side of the road and made my way here.’’

‘’Well we can help you find your way back if you like.’

‘’YES, thank you.’’

Walking outside dean helped me into the car and we were off to their house or what they called their bunker. Once inside i made my way to their version of the quiver. Setting my arrows and hood on the couch began to scan their place. Clearly they really are brothers, not sure on Cas thou.. Possibly dean's boyfriend? not by the way dean watched my ass get into the car. Walking around I found their library full of supernatural information.

‘Where were you guys when darhk was around?’’

Dean came into the room with 4 beers. Handing one to me as Sam sat down and opened his laptop.

‘’So, let's start with your hometown or where you were last.’’

‘’Star city.’’

I watched as Sam typed it into his keyboard and his eyes going wide.

‘’uhm y/n that city doesn’t exist at least not that google knows.’’

‘'w-W-W WHAT DO YOU MEAN DOESN’T EXSIT I WAS JUST THERE!!!’’

‘’Google says nothing found for a Star city.’’

‘’MY WHOLE LIFE IS THERE, MY BROTHER, MY TWIN SISTER, MY NEPHEW! MY BESTFRIENDS MY FAMILY GOD DAMN IT!!!’’

I threw the beer onto the floor.  

‘’’listen y/n lets google your family maybe they will come up, you did say your sister in law was a hacker maybe she's hiding the results.’’

‘Okay my Sibling are Oliver and Thea Queen, my best friend is Iris West Allen, Her husband is Barry Allen.’’

Dean looked up at me  

‘’You're Brother and best friend are named after comic books?’’

‘NO?’’

Sam ran to the other room carrying back a few plastic covered comic books with the titles. GREEN ARROW and the other THE FLASH. I felt my head going dizzy and everything went black. When i came too I was lying on a couch, I could hear Sam and dean talking.

‘’Maybe she escaped the looney bin.’’

‘’maybe she hit her head harder than she thought.’’

‘’OR THE HOT CHICK IS CRAZY!’’

I made a coughing noise as I walked into the room.

‘Come sit, I'm going to blow your minds.’

We all headed in the war room and sat down.

‘’So, my name is Y/n Queen, my brother is Oliver Queen and Yes he is the Green Arrow, My sister and I are quickdraw and speedy. My Best friend is the wife of the flash, we discovered other worlds or dimensions a long time ago. I'm guessing that’s where I am in a world where I'm nothing more than words on a page.’’

Both Winchesters sat there with their mouths gaping.

‘’So, you're like a real super hero?’’

‘’I guess so, Ollie more is than me, I'm just backup.’’

‘And how did you get here?’’

‘Cisco must have breached me right as I grabbed Barry sending me flying through a breach, although this would be a far new distance for him....I'm happy i made it.’’

‘’Breach?’’

‘’’Rips or portals into other worlds.’’

‘’I need some air.’’

Dean stepped out of the room leaving me, Sam and Cas alone.

‘So, are their angels in your world?’

‘’not that im aware of cas , We have the league of shadows . My brother married their leader, We do have magic buts its really bad.’’

‘’Magics bad here too but more of like hocus pocus and hexes.’’

‘’so, no vigilantes?’’

‘’Not that I know of, I mean we are hunters if that counts.’’

‘’it’ll do.’’  

Sam smiled as dean walked into the room.

‘’can i shoot an arrow?’’

‘’Sure dean.’’

We went outside where I let dean have 2 arrows to shoot, he missed both times. Taking my aim, I shot to perfect straight into the apple Sam had placed on the car.

‘’How did you learn to do that?’’

‘’My brother, after slade …. I mean Death Stroke killed my mom, Ollie never wanted me and Thea to be unsafe again and after i busted him on being arrow and dig being spartan....Sorry Dig is my brothers right hand man. He welcomed me to the team as quickdraw due to the fact im a quick shot.’’

‘’wow.... you been through it.’’

‘’ oh, I got stories that would make your mind implode. Ive met a alien well a kryptonian .’’

‘’YOU FUCKIN MET SUPERMAN!!!!’

Dean was shouting now

‘’Well yeah but I meant his cousin Supergirl, she like my pen pal.’’

‘’ So I guess you're staying here till you can get home.’’

‘Thank you, Sam.,’’

Later that night  

Laying here in this strange bed in a whole other world completely alone.... alone, the one thing I fear was to be alone. I got up and headed for the library at least it has a good book maybe they will have a new series I can love. Stepping into the library I found Sam researching through a bunch of lore.

‘’Is he real?’’

Sam pointed at a comic with a man named Spiderman.

‘’maybe but not in my world or at least hasn’t made himself known.’’

He nodded to the chair next to him. Sliding into it he handed me a piece of candy.

‘’can't sleep?’’

‘’no im on earth 1 time’’

‘Earth 1?’

‘Well since I knew that one first that’s earth 1 , Supergirl is from earth 3 and I making this earth 4.’’

‘’thanks?’’

‘’So What do you like to do for fun here?’’

‘'Don’t really have time , the hunt never stops , I've actually been to hell , met lucifer and god oh and I Lost my soul and met Gods sister and died a thousand times , so has Dean and Cas.’

I could see the pain welling in his eyes, he was tired.

‘’Sounds likes my brother hehe Hes been through it for 5 years I thought he was dead and then poof he wasn’t, but he wasn’t ollie. He had scars and tattoo, spoke Russian and was very odd. He ended up letting his anger go and now we are happy again even for a moment, But your right lives like ours it only ends in death.’’

Sam laughed as he handed me a beer from the mini frige.

‘’Thats why we gotta go down swinging.’’

‘’Cheers to that.’

Tinking the beers together we continued to exchanged stories and advice. Sam made me feel safe like my life wasn't guns and masks and his wasn’t demons and vampires.

‘’Hi sam , Whose this.... she isnt from here.’’

I screamed as a young man with blonde air appeared out of nowhere.

‘’ y/ n this is jack.....lucifer's son.’’

‘’HOLY SHIT....i mean hi, im sorry im not used to people appearing like that unless they plan to kill me.’’

‘’I think its my fault you’re here.’'

‘’Jack what do you mean its your fault?’’

Before he answered he was gone.

‘’he does this when he is upset and feels guilty, he runs.’’

‘’poor guy.’’

‘Well he is only 5 months old.’’

‘’yeah well …..wait what?’’

‘’he aged in order to survive.’’

‘’oh...so are you completely human?’’

‘’yeah I mgiht be missing a bit of my soul here and there.’’

Sam smiled at his own remark, we headed into the library to research anything on other worlds. 3 hours and 5 cups of coffee each later neither Sam or I found anything besides that I may be stuck here forever. Sam already promised I have a home with them here and I will never be alone as long as hes around. I couldn’t help but notice how warm and safe I feel around him.  

I woke up to the feeling of someone breathing, as I opened my eyes I  found myself on sams chest cluctching a book on demi gods while sam had one arm wrapped around me and they other on a book on greek gods. We must of fallen asleep on the couch studying , he looks so happy when hes asleep like he isnt living a hard life everyday. Before I could take in anymore of the moment dean came busting into the room causing sam to jump shoving me to the floor.

‘Jacks back’

We all ran to the den where jack sat on the couch clutching his head in his hands. I walked over placing my hand on his shoulder.

‘are you okay?’’

‘im sorry’’

‘’for what....bringing me here. Ive been through worse trust me.’

He looked at me with his bloodshot eyes and buried his head into my chest hugging me tightly. He was still sobbing but at least now he knew I didn’t blame him.

‘so nothing from jack yet?’’

It has been almost 3 weeks since I arrived here , Cas has been working with jack to see if maybe he can re open the rip to send me home. I offered to ask barry and iris to help jack understand himself better, run some test and see what he can and cant handle. Then there's sam , we have gotten really close since I arrived late night studying and him teaching me how to put up warding's and devils traps. I even promised him id get the anti-possession tattoo once im home. Sitting in the den reading the local paper scanning for any sign of supernatural creatures.

‘hey y’n’’

Sam came into the room handing me a cup of coffee and sitting next to me , smiling at me god I love it when he smiles. Snapping out of my  trance I had to nod and try to catch up.

‘so jack thinks if we can find a dream walker we can send you home.’

‘’where do we find one of these dream walkers’’

‘’well that’s the thing we only knew one and shes dead but jack thinks he has a lead on another in ohio, him and dean went to check it out . Cas heard of one in California so he went out that way , that just leaves us.’’

Falling into the chair in the library I picked up a comic with the title green arrow looking at the way they drew my brother.

‘’ollie doesn’t have a beard ‘’

Sam chuckled.

‘’what?’’

‘’just how you call him ollie makes him seem like he isnt in a comic book in our world.’’

‘’this should be so odd to you I mean look what I found.’’

I held up a anime comic named supernatural starring sam and dean.

‘'that was written by god , not by a geek in a basement.’’

‘’ so whats sam / dean?’’

‘’how did you hear about that?’’

‘’im a vigilante , if I want info I get it.’’

‘’its nothing , its gross.’’

‘’so am I in one of these books or do I not matter?’’

‘’they stopped being made after dean went to hell , cas is isnt in them either..... but you matter to me ‘

Looking up sam was starring at me with a small smirk on his lips. Shaking his head I could see him searching the room in a painc.

‘’you said something about food and a movie?’

‘uhh yea set up in the tv room I got burgers and venom’’

About halfway into the movie sam got up to leave the room, wondering what was up I decide to follow him into the kitchen , sam was pacing the room on the phone.

‘’what do you mean she was a phony? , y/n is going to be heart broken.’’

‘’yeah I know dean but I do care for her ...of course id love to be with her........dean she has a family and a life....we weren't ever supposed to meet.’’

He hung up his phone turning towards me.

‘’y/n......uhm’’

Without thought I moved forward crashing my lps into his pulling him closer by is plaid collar , his fands found my hips lifting me onto my tip toes pulling me into him. Taking a step back I looked up at him feeling the blood rush to my face when dean came rushing in.

‘hey robin hood we might need your help.’’

Climbing into the impala we drove to a empty house where three bodies laid on the porch and woman with short hair came forward extending her hand.

‘’names Jody , dean here tells me your one of us.’’

Nodding I looked at dean.

‘why do you need me here?’’

‘’because this guy here says hes from star city’’

Stepping into the door, a man with his hands and feet tied laid on the floor with a bag on his head, reaching out i lifted the bag to revel cold dead eyes and a buzz cut along with the smile of the devil and his body covered in tattoos.

‘’d-d—d—d-d- dia'’

‘’hello y/n , Miss me baby doll ?’’

[myhauntedsalem]

19 Parents Share What Their Kid Remembered About Their ‘Last’ Life

1. He showed us his grave

When my brother was about 2 or 3 he told us his name used to be Austin. One day we were picnicking right along side a cemetery, when my brother took off running towards the gravestones, my dad and I followed him and found him touching a large headstone that simply read “Here Lies Austin” no name, no date. My brother did not learn to read until he was 6 and this headstone wasn’t even right out visible from where we were, yet he ran right to it

2. We don’t watch firefighter things

my son told me a few months ago he “used to be a firefighter, and we got called to a fire. There wasn’t any family inside the house, so we just put the fire out. Then the fire truck caught on fire and I died”. A few nights later, he elaborated he was taken to a hospital, where he died. We don’t watch firefighter things.

3. Her “other” mother’s name was Sally

I was talking to my four year old when she began to freak me out. She was telling me a story about her “other mother” and that she “died a long time ago on a Thursday.” I tried to brush it off, you know, whatever, shes a kid, they have wild imaginations… but then she started to go further into detail about the death of her “other mother,” whose name was apparently Sally. She has never met anyone named Sally, and I can’t recall any shows on TV she watches where “Sally” is a character. She told me that she was playing with her father’s gun that she found and accidentally shot and killed Sally while she was walking upstairs. It’s pretty weird. There are no guns in this house, I haven’t even really told her what guns are all about and how they can hurt or kill someone, shes only four! I think I am beginning to understand now why when I try to tell her when someone dies, they go away forever, she tells me that, that is not true. “We come back, mommy!” I’m only 23, I had my daughter very young and despite not being prepared, I don’t think I could have ever prepared for a conversation like that!

4. “When she lived before she was born”

My daughter did the same thing at the same age. She told me about her life “when she lived before she was born” and described herself as a woman with long hair who lived in an apartment with a long flight of stairs outside of it. She drove a VW Bug and wore long skirts. She then told me that she fell down the stairs and died. Her stories were startlingly vivid and always consistent. Quite spooky. She is now 19 and doesnt remember it. My advice would be write down everything your daughter tells you on the subject. Everything! Record her stories if you can.

5. Roanoke?

I would tell my older sister about my death. I told her my husband was captured and fire was everywhere. I took my young son and ran. I told her my son couldn’t run fast enough. I knew we would get killed and I had my husbands knife on me, I wanted to leave a clue. I wrote in capitals “CROATOAN” I told her we were caught and how my son was killed before I was killed. I told her how I was stabbed in the stomach with a knife. Then, I went about playing with dolls. I can still picture the scene and my son to this day.

6. “She used to come visit me”

my son says he remember his great grandmother (my grandmother) and can describe her in perfect detail (how she looks, how she acted, even what brand of cigarettes she smoked) , although she died 11 days before he was born. He says that she used to come visit him in his dreams.

7. Conchon

Apparently beginning around the time my friend could form sentences until he was little more than 2, he would go on and on about how he was a Native American named Conchon and that after his wife and son got sick and died, he moved to a mountain to live by himself with his horse. He died of a broken neck when he fell into a ravine.

8. “My real mom and dad were killed when the bad men came.”

when I was 2 or 3 I was talking to my grandmother and told her that my mom and dad weren’t my real mom and dad. My grandmother, knowing this wasn’t true, said they were. I calmly explained that no, my real mom and dad were killed when the bad men came. I had lived because my mom hid me behind a rock. I then went on to describe white men with guns and us “dark” people with long hair. When I was done, I went back to eating my ice cream.

9. Jesus

My cousin, approximately 3 years old and riding in the car with my mum and dad, pointed out a random house that they went past and declared “I died there”.

10. Included because, WHAT?

I did something sort of similar I guess. When I was about 3 my mum and I were driving over a bridge on which there’d recently been a major accident that resulted in a car bursting into flames and the driver dying. Anyway, I asked my mum who the man in the front seat was and when she told me to describe him I said, “Well he’s on fire and he keeps looking back at me.”

11. I drowned

My mother told me about a story I told her when I was 2 or 3. I told her she was the best mommy I ever had, to which she replied, “I’m the only mommy you’ve ever had.” “nu-uh, I had another mommy.” I said that my older sister and I went out to a pond in the woods behind my house. Around the pond, all of the trees were the same type: skinny with white paper-like bark. (I had never seen a poplar tree before in this life.) We put some logs together to make a raft, and put it into the water to play boat captain and climbed aboard. The raft fell apart, and I didn’t know how to swim. I tried to grab a log, but my hand slipped off. I could see my sister freaking out from underwater. I drowned.

12. My war memories

one of 6 hopping out of a helicopter into a field, it’s hot as shit, humid, daytime, two house/buildings smoking and heavily burning straight in front of me (to the side of the chopper), and there’s firing from the woods and field to my right. It’s chaotic a noisy, lots of firing and helicopters, my guys are firing back crouched next to the back building, one guy runs out of the other building with a kid he pushes forward and yells at to run, the kid gets shot from out of nowhere, and drops. I see a few of my guys advancing from another chopper behind me duck down in the grass as their chopper leaves, I crouch in tall grass about 10 feet from my chopper, fire my rifle twice from just above the grass line, and my chopper starts to take off, and is taking fire. I get up to move forward, panicky, and am shot dead – I feel a hard thunk, see part my chest explode, fall forward go black, and zoom out above my body. I also drew this later (still have pics, mom saved them). To me, it’s clear as day, still. Mom said some of my first chatter was about “heavy fire” “zip em boys” (don’t know what that means) and I would ask “Where are the hueys?” I was born in the early 70s, and my family was NOT military (very anti, actually). I err on the side of thinking it’s media (news footage?) I absorbed at some point from the Viet Nam war, but I also wonder if it’s not a past-life dream.

13. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

When my kid was 4, we were watching a docu on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the tv and said, “That’s wrong. The boilers were on the Other side. And I was right here.” And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. “That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.”

14. My family’s farm, burning

When I was younger I would have dreams of living in colonial american. I remember bits very vividly and only when I was older did I realize what they were about and how accurate they were. Most of the dreams consisted of me being in my late teen years and centered around my family’s farm being set on fire during the night. I never dreamed past that night, nothing about the aftermath of the fire, and I haven’t had one in years.

15. “Nobody scroofs me there”

Getting my two and a half year old daughter out of the bath one night, my wife and I were briefing her on how important it was she kept her privates clean. She casually replied “Oh, nobody ‘scroofs’ me there. They tried one night. They kicked the door in and tried but I fought back. I died and now I’m here.” She said this like it was nothing. My wife and I were catatonic.

16. Nope

“Before I was born here, I had a sister, right? Her and my other Mom are so old now. They were ok when the car was on fire, but I sure wasn’t!”

17. “Their screams are keeping me up”

I was in my room on the computer at about 11, which is late for my sister to be awake even now. I was thinking about bed, but then my sister knocks on the door. She was maybe 10 at the time, so not so young that she doesn’t know when she’s dreaming. She wanted to sleep in my room because she was sad and scared. I asked her why, and she said, “I watched your sons burn up in the fire. Their screams are keeping me up.”

18. Role reversal

My three year old said, “Remember when I was the grown-up and you were the little boy?” to his Dad.

19. When he was a grown up

My father used to hate policemen when he was a kid, he used to tell my grandmother that they came to his house and shot him when he was a grown up.

[iknewiwouldregretthis]

okay here’s a bunch of information i know on dudes in the wild west for melissa @cwtchpup so it doesn’t clog up the chat and also for anyone else i guess. it is Long because it’s basically everything i could come up with off the top of my head

so doc holliday is some dude who got a degree in dentistry in the 1860s or so and then about immediately found out that he had tuberculosis so he moved to the southwest where the air was dry and was like “wow i’m good at cards” so he became a gambler which was an actual profession and he was very good at it. i’m sure he probably did some dentsiting on the side still because it was a lot less “see you in six months for your next cleaning” and a lot more “tooth hurts? drink this whiskey and i’ll go get my pliers.” then in maybe texas? he met the earps (virgil, morgan, wyatt) who were lawmen and became like an assistant deputy lawman? i think you pretty much just had to be assigned the role of deputy or lawman and didn’t need any qualifications BUT doc was really good at shooting so he had that going for him and if i remember right one of the earps was a sheriff or marshal or something and did the deputizing. he was with wyatt earp at the ok corral which is a very famous shootout but all i remember is that either virgil or morgan died and so wyatt and doc and the remaining earp brother went rogue and hunted down and killed the dudes who did it and then had a price on their heads. wyatt and doc got a divorce because wyatt went back to being the law and doc went back to having a severe disease and then he went to glenwood springs colorado where he died in his hotel and was buried in linwood pioneer cemetery because he died a pauper. he was in like his early to mid 30s. about 50 years later, there was some break in and some of the cemetery records were stolen and so now, we don’t know exactly where doc is buried in the cemetery (there wasn’t a marker because he was already buried at taxpayer expense and they sure weren’t gonna cough up the 30 cents or however much it took to make a headstone). there is a memorial where they’ve fenced off a grave-sized area and put a marker, and people have left playing cards and empty shot-sized alcohol bottles and small amounts of money like dollar bills and coins and a few casino chips in kind of the same vein as people kissing oscar wilde’s grave which i think is super cool.

a fun side note here is that glenwood springs was a frontier town originally made up of brothels, gambling halls, and mining supply shops (just like every other frontier town) called Defiance which was a crazy cool name except that one of the town founders was like “hmmmm my sweet gentle wife from iowa is having trouble adjusting to the harsh realities of frontier life what if we changed the name of our town defiance to glenwood springs, after her hometown of glenwood iowa?” and apparently everyone else at the town founders meeting was like “hey jimmy nobody cares about your kind gentle iowan wife but if it’ll shut you up we will name this town glenwood springs”

anyway, also buried in the linwood cemetery is kid curry (not to be confused with kid cudi, the sundance kid, anyone else with kid or curry in their name including george flat nose curry who kid got his name from). kid curry was part of the wild bunch but was like kind of a disaster compared to his more gentleman thief-esque colleagues. he was a that-guy-who-wrote-les-mis-whose-name-i-forgot of the old west to the point that when prostitutes had kids and they didn’t know who the dad was or didn’t want to say, they’d call them curry kids. anyway he got shot trying to pull a train robbery outside of parachute with some guys (they might’ve been from black jack ketchum’s gang? which kid curry ran with before he joined the wild bunch) after the wild bunch broke up. he was still a badass though because he told the other dudes to leave him behind and then shot himself rather than let the cops take him alive. the cops found the dead criminal and then presumably went “uhhh i guess we bury him now” and stuck him in the pauper’s cemetery. not too long after, a pinkerton detective who was an expert in the wild bunch was like “hey i think that dude you guys buried is kid curry based on the description do you mind digging him up so i can see?” and the super chill town cops were like “hell yeah let’s go” and they dug up harvey and the pinkerton was like “that’s sure him” and the cops went “oh sweet let’s give him a marker” and then put him back.  that’s mostly all i know about kid curry except his name is harvey logan which i don’t think i mentioned earlier.

the wild bunch was super late in the wild west, hitting the height of their outlawing around 1899. butch cassidy, aka robert leroy parker, who looks kind of like matt damon, was the leader and was a brilliant tactical mind. the wild bunch robbed tons of banks and trains and always escaped basically unscathed thanks to butch’s planning. they also bragged a lot about not killing people every but kid curry was super gun happy and killed like 9 people on record so kid curry lets everyone down as usual. (it’s not just his fault, i’m pretty sure the sundance kid aka harry longabaugh something also killed some people that we know of also). anyway, the gang would do a robbery and then lay low for a while. most of the laying low happened in an area that was called brown’s hole but is now mostly called brown’s park (a park is a geographical area that’s like a valley but like in the mountains? i don’t totally remember the definition but it’s a big flat that’s high up.) brown’s hole is in the unita mountains, a range in the rockies that runs east/west instead of north/south. it’s in that bit of utah right where it borders both colorado and wyoming. the wild bunch worked there as ranch hands and would give money to the local community and so the community loved and sheltered them. they also went out of their way to not commit crimes in utah or colorado because they didn’t want the law in those states after them. they spent a lot of time and brothels and would take their favorite ladies on huge lavish vacations and buy them all kinds of fancy things. basically the whole life was do a big robbery, live a glamorous dramatic lavish life until the money runs out, repeat.

when they hung out in brown’s hole, a bunch of the gang fell in love with locals, which were all good morman girls because that’s who lived on the ranches in brown’s hole at the turn of the century. it was kind of a disaster love story for all of them because it’s hard to be a good morman girl and marry a dude who only knows how to be an outlaw but they tried and some of them made a good go of it, before the former wild bunch men went back to outlawing and/or got themselves killed. elza ley, who doesn’t have a cool nickname as far as i remember, is one of the dudes who got married to a local girl, and i think the first one who did. i think the tall texan (ben kilpatrick or ben kirkpatrick or ben something-patrick) did also. as far as i can remember right now, none of the marriages ended after a long and happy life, usually because the dude got himself killed. they were just too used to their lavish lifestyle circle to actually settle down and be ranch boys. also it didn’t help that the whole lot of them thought it’d be a fun time to get a group photo taken in texas at a studio several years back and all the pinkerton detectives started carrying it around with them to show people.

butch and sundance went down to i think peru? and tried to do some robberies down there because the whole rest of the gang was getting married and getting shot. the two of them were killed by the local militia in a robbery gone wrong. (as seen in the movie butch cassidy and the sundance kid with robert redford and some other man). interestingly, a lady named etta place was there with them. etta was the sundance kid’s girl (tbh historians are kind of iffy about it because there’s letters saying she’s butch’s girl, stuff saying they shared her, and stuff that says she’s butch’s cousin and stuff saying she and butch grew up and were childhood sweethearts but as adults she only dated the sundance kid which is one of the more accepted theories) and the interesting thing about etta is that she pretty much shows up in history when she starts hanging around the wild bunch and then disappears almost immediately before butch and sundance get themselves killed. i think they picked etta up because she worked at fanny porter’s brothel in texas and the boys went there a lot, and there’s some sources saying she caught a boat from peru to nyc but like there’s no confirmation? she just shows up, does some robbing, gets treated to the good life, and then disappears. anyway there’s a famous picture of her and sundance where she’s wearing a pocket watch from tiffany’s that cost like $50 which was A Lot.

there were also a bunch of ladies who were not necessarily IN the wild bunch, but were safe havens or hangers-on (i think etta and queen ann basset were the only two who did crimes with them but they don’t get to be included in most accounts because they were 1. not in the famous photo and 2. women). however, there was one family that the boys sheltered with a bunch to the point that elizabeth basset, the matriarch, was basically also their mom? she adopted them and it’s very sweet. one of her daughters, josie, apparently was butch’s girl for a little bit when she was younger and i think also elza’s? josie eventually married (5 times if i remember right, none of which were to the wild bunch. there was at least one husband she was accused of poisoning) and built herself a ranch using some box canyons as corrals, and built the entire 5 room ranch house herself by hand. it had one fireplace, the walls were papered in newsprint, and there was no electricity (even after it got invented). the only running water was from underground streams, because of complicated water rights. josie hunted deer, raised cattle, farmed, made her own whiskey, sewed her own clothes, lasted through prohibition and the great depression and eventually slipped on ice and broke her hip, forcing her to go to a hospital. she died there, at age 90, in 1963. her ranch is currently in the bounds of dinosaur national monument (the utah part) and is open to visitors.

that’s all i can think of at present. also i know it’s weird and possessive to refer to women as “dude’s girl” but there’s not quite any other way to get across what i mean? like saying they were going steady is too 1950s and nothing else really describes the relationship. it wasn’t dating. that’s just what you called it? anyway here’s some pictures of josie’s house

[demoninblue]

(( so my grandma finally passed away about 3 1/2 hours ago (right after I went to take a nap). I’m super glad that on Monday I got my husband to swing us by the hospital (she’s been there for about 8 days now in ICU) when she was seemingly getting better; I just had a feeling considering how bad she’d been last Sat/Sun that we’d better visit her since due to each of us being sick, etc. we haven’t seen her since Christmas Eve (her birthday). We laughed, joked, she was cussing the nurses out then hugging them (she was pretty drugged up, lol) and we had a good time, but I think I knew then so I made sure to give her extra hugs and kisses.

I’m a realist I guess, I’m not the person you’re going to see breaking down and holding out hope when I know there’s not any, so as she took another turn for the worst at the end of this week I already prepared myself, it was just hard seeing me dad and aunt up there. I kinda already steeled myself for this when they initially admitted her because they lost her a few times over the weekend. She’s not been in good health for a long, long time, and I know she was ready after the last couple years.

I went up there to see her around noon, but that was more for my dad since she was basically half way gone and not really aware by then. My brother is sick (so he’s not allowed to go in there around people in ICU), and my sister has a young baby, so she can’t go either, and I knew if SOMEONE in our direct family didn’t show up, he might snap -- he’s the sensitive type underneath it all, and I didn’t want him to think we didn’t care.  

The shitty task of messaging all my cousins was also left to me (we’re a pretty big family) so I had to feel like the grim reaper or something telling everyone like, “Hey if you want to see her, you gotta go NOW, or call one of us at the hospital and we can hold the phone up, and if you don’t want to/can’t then that’s okay too,” and having to keep messaging them once the nurse came in and checked her and told my mom that they weren’t going to make the decision for them, but that my dad and aunt (they were stepping out for some air) should consider removing the tubes/etc. and letting her go in peace.

 Bumped into one of my younger cousins leaving as I was arriving, had to calm her down enough to drive since I think she’s been out of the loop and didn’t realize how bad this shit actually was. My parents and my aunt who’s in town have been posting on fb but that doesn’t really give you much info, especially when most of the posts are just about how she was improving until today -- my mom has kept me in the loop since she knows I can handle it, but still, that’s not really the sort of details you post online. Then I had to track down some cousins that don’t live in this state and tell them; they’re brother and sister (but live on opposite ends of the country basically) and my one cousin literally had no idea my grandma was even in the hospital -- her dad (my uncle) didn’t even bother to contact her but he told his son???? I mean I know she’s a bit of an outlier, and considering her dad... I should have known, but do you know how shitty that is to have to tell your cousin, “oh sorry... thought you knew...”

 There’s just about to be a lot of drama over this shit -- she had 5 kids, one of my uncles passed from cancer about 2 years ago, so it’s my dad, his brother, and 2 sisters and it’s basically going to end up a war zone because certain ones don’t realize that my grandma cut them out of her will a while back for reasons (trust me, it was deserved but you know some people only care about themselves). The only ones worth a damn are my dad and my aunt (his youngest sister), the other two are just such... bad people, I know this shit is going to turn into such a huge thing... especially because it’s the bad ones whose kids don’t KNOW about all this drama, all the rest of us do (my family and my good aunt’s family).

I’m sure I’ll grieve over it in my alone time, I just worry about my dad. My grandpa died very suddenly about 10 years ago and he never really recovered, and then my uncle 2 years ago, and now this, on top of the drama that’s coming... I just don’t want him to have a heart attack or some shit.

I also feel weird because I feel like... people except me to be sobbing and shit, but that’s just not me, never has been. I’m gonna go to work tomorrow and find out the bereavement info, and I hate working the place I do during times like this because while I could probably explain to my manager and get extra time off if I really needed it, they have such a strict bereavement thing that I don’t even wanna use it tomorrow because I don’t know when the funeral is gonna be, etc. etc. and I don’t really have the time off to use for it without bereavement right now. shit like this also makes me feel weird because I feel like people think I’m lying BECAUSE I’m not distraught or something, idk, it’s hard to explain but hopefully that makes sense. I accept stuff like this as a fact of life -- my grandma was old, in terrible health, and ever since my uncle passed that was the last straw. I’m thankful she made it this far... ))

[katarinahime]

Prodigy

Itachi had been one. He had grown up in his shadow, longing to compete with him and forever unable to catch up. Even when Sasuke had thought that he had bested him, killed him, he was still nowhere close to his brothers natural power.

Even Sasuke himself was called a prodigy. Though to have his talents dismissed on the notion that he was just somehow born with talent and didn’t train until literal exhaustion every night of his life was off-putting.

Now, his son, wielder of not one, but two dojutsus, whose power was reminiscent of a deity, the same word rang again by onlookers.

Prodigy.

“I don’t think I want to be a ninja.”

The Uchiha household was fairly modest compared to what most people thought of when thinking of great clans. The home that held the infamous Sasuke Uchiha, and his Byakugan Princess, was an average sized house for their neighborhood. With a slightly larger than average sized family. It was full of laughter and warm home cooked meals.

But now, deathly still silence.

Sasuke appraised his oldest son with a passive, blank face. Sanada, a twelve year old boy who held his resemblance, but lacked his mannerisms. Sanada was quite, kind to almost everyone and a little on the shy side. He was incredibly intelligent, and hardworking.

He had learned Gentle Fist from his mother and had adapted it to suit 180° vision. He also had a fairly good grasp on his Sharingan and had been mastering long range attacks to compliment his taijutsu based fighting. He had a very strategic mind and used all his immense genetic superiority to feats beyond what they had thought a Genin could accomplish.

Hinata had been staring at Sasuke since Sanada had announced it. Waiting to see how her husband would react. But Sasuke kept his silence.

As did his daughter, Minato, which was the most surprising. Minato looked similar to Sasuke as well, but feminine, pretty and her black hair curled wildly. Sasuke has vague memories of Shisui’s hair and only a mediocre knowledge of genetics but yet their his daughter sat, long black curly hair and all. Silently. Which was new ever since she could learn how to talk. Minato, apart from entering the Academy that year, had spent a lot of time with her aunt and had picked up on her much more chatty disposition. Even she could see that this was a serious conversation.

Sasuke’s youngest child on the other hand, barley over one years old and silent as the grave. As long as Hinata was holding him. Fukuryu loved Hinata, and only Hinata, and if he didn’t have his mother, he let his displeasure be known for the world to hear. He was Sasuke only child that looked nothing like him, but with his perpetual pout, he had a sneaky suspicion that the little brat held his disposition.

“Do you have anything else in mind? Some interests? Or hobbies?” Hinata asked.

She had clearly decided to move on in the conversation without Sasuke.

Sanada still hadn’t looked up. His voice quiet and muffled and Sasuke didn’t need Byakugan to see through the table to know that his son would be pressing his fingers together, restlessly. A nervous tick.

“I’d still like to help people, and, and I know, I know I have a lot of talent. I think I’d like to be something a little different. Something like a P-p-police Officer.”

As Sanada struggled through the sentence, his blush only worsened. His son only stuttered under great stress, and Sasuke’s heart clenched.

Why did his son feel so embarrassed or ashamed to share with them? Sasuke could remember his father, and the cold indifference, the disapproval, the attention he gained only after he could somehow prove himself.

Sasuke never wanted it to be like that with his children.

Yet, there Sanada was, unable to meet either of his parents eyes, blushing, stuttering, fidgeting. He had probably been keeping those feelings in for weeks, months, afraid of their reactions to his thoughts.

Another part of Sasuke’s clenched painfully, imagining his son as a Police Officer. Too see Sanada in that uniform, to see that crest with the Uchiha again. It filled Sasuke’s chest with sadness and pride.

“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Hinata spoke softly and sweetly.

Sanada nodded.

“Have you felt this way for awhile?”

He nodded again.

Failure. Sasuke felt like a failure as a father. His son’s discomfort was a direct reflection of how he had parented Sanada thus far. All he could feel was shame. With himself.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Sanada whispered, so quiet Sasuke almost didn’t catch it.

Hinata’s eyes grew big as they met with Sasuke’s again.

“That would never disappoint me. Everyone grows up and chooses their own paths.” Hinata smiled comfortingly. “Whatever path you choose is the one meant for you. If you want to become a Police Officer, than I think that’s amazing Sanada.”

Sasuke watched his son finally look up from his hiding spot under his shaggy black hair. His black eyes looked up to his mother with hopefulness. His cheeks and ears still dusted pink with shame and uncertainty.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna be the Hokage!” Minato shrieked. “Uncle Naruto said that I was named after his dad, who was the fourth Hokage, and he’s the seventh Hokage, and Papa Kakashi was the sixth and that I’ll be one for sure!”

Hinata blanched.

“We did not name you after that usuratonkachi’s dad.” Sasuke huffed.

Hinata frowned at Sasuke’s nickname.

“And someday, Ryu will let go of mom!” Minato joked.

Sasuke huffed. It wasn’t likely

His small son’s fist tightened in Hinata’s shirt, white eyes narrowed into slits as he lay his head in the the crook of his mother neck. The only person in the world with the audacity to glare at Sasuke Uchiha. His infant son.

“I told my Sensei, and he got upset. He said my team wouldn’t be able to take the Chunin exams without me, so I promised to stay until then. He said I was wasting my talent.” Sanada admitted.

Getting such a negative reaction from his teacher is what had probably kept Sanada from confiding in his family for so long. Which Sasuke considered worth giving his sensei a visit. He had a glare that could rival Ryu’s and some choice words to go along with it.

Wasting his talents?

Itachi had talent. He was a genius. A prodigy. Yet his mind had been distorted and manipulated and spent the rest of his life exiled and shamed until he died.

Sasuke himself was described as all those things, and yet he had similarly been taken advantage of, only saved by the love of his friends.

Even his wife’s cousin, whom she loved dearly, who had been showed with the praise of “prodigy” died from just protecting her.

Was it really the worst thing in the world for his son to not want to be a ninja?

“I think, that becoming a Police Officer, is a… fine plan.” Sasuke finally muttered.

Sanada turned to Sasuke, looking up at him with the same hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “Thank you, father.”

“Yeah big brother! You can protect the people inside Konoha while I lead the ninja and protect everyone from outside Konoha!” Minato yelled again, almost knocking over her soup to give her older brother a high five. “Because I’m definitely going to become Hokage! Datte-”

“If you finish that sentence, no dessert.”

Minato looked over at her father, aghast. Slowly she lowered herself back down in her chair, pouting. “I hope when big brother becomes a Police Officer that he works hard to end these injustices.

Sasuke rolled his eyes and focused back on his dinner.

[still-figuring-me-out]

The Social Worker and the Businesswoman AU - chapter 5

The next morning at 7:45AM Judge Ellington sat scowling at her desk. She hated being summoned, especially during her break. Some may call a 7PM phone call from a city councilman asking for her to meet with some unknown party in her chambers early the next morning as a suggestion, but Suzanne recognized it for what it was; a summons to drop whatever she had prepared and make herself available. So here she sat drumming her fingers on her office desk and growing more impatient as the minutes ticked by. She was determined that if this mystery person was not in her officer promptly at 8AM she would be leaving at 8:01 and the consequences be damned. When a single knock was placed on her door at 8 on the dot Suzanne found herself equal parts curious and disappointed. Curious to see who wanted to meet with her and why they could not wait until the new year and disappointed that she would not be able to give them a taste of their own medicine.

“Enter,” she called. To say she was surprised when a petite woman with midnight black hair and piercing green eyes stepped into her office would be an understatement.

“Good morning Judge Ellington,” the waif in front of her began with a lilting Irish accent. “Let me first apologize for intruding on what I know would be your holiday period but..”

“Just tell me who you represent and what they want so we can both get on with our day,” she interrupted. “Which of the good ole boys from National City are you schlepping for? Just get it over with so I can get back to my family.” She was greeted by a single, perfectly groomed eyebrow arched and a direct stare. This one actually has a personality she thought, she’d better learn to cover it though or she’d get eaten alive’.

“I assure you that I answer to no-one but very well let’s get down to business,” came the immediate response. “My name is Lena Luthor and I’d like to talk about someone whose case you presided over.”

“Luthor? As in Luthor Corp?” Judge Ellington thundered.

“Luthor as in L-Corp formally known as Luther Corp yes,” Lena returned. “I can’t imagine that there are too many of us in a city the size of National City.”

“I’d heard of the renaming and the relocation of the headquarters but I never thought that in my line of work I’d ever have need to run into a Luthor ever again,” Judge Ellington says bitterly. “So what are you some distant cousin?”

“What I am,” Lena replies drawing herself up to her full 5’3 height, “is someone who’s sure that you have more interesting things to do today that delve into my pedigree.”

“Just like a Luthor,” Suzanne scoffed, “so sure that your time is more valuable than anyone else’s. No consideration for anyone but yourselves. Parasites the whole lot of you.”

“I could stand here and allow you to continue to hurl insults at me,” Lena drawled, “or we could get to the business that has us both down here so that you can return to your holiday in the shortest possible time.”

“I don’t do deal with Luthors,” Suzanne spat.

“Really?” smirked Lena insolently. “Then you would be the only person in this city who does not.”

“Get. Out.” Suzanne ground out. “Your kind is not welcomed in my chambers.”

“I do believe,” Lena says walking confidently into the office, “that the large donation my company made to the mayor’s campaign as well as city hall itself buys me admittance to this and any office that I deem necessary.”

“God you really are a Luthor,” Suzanne sneered. “Just as self-righteous as the core family. Sitting in your ivory towers looking down your nose thinking you own everything and everyone. Well I’ll have you know that in these chambers my word is final!”

“Which one was it?” Lena asked mildly taking a seat in front of the Judge’s desk and absentmindedly removing lint from her expensive winter coat.

“What?” Suzanne sputtered.

“Which one was it?” Lena repeated. “To have such a deep seated hatred of the Luthors you must have had direct contact with either Lionel, Lillian or Lex. So which one was it?” Suzanne was taken slightly by surprise at the temporary look of exhaustion and resignation that crossed the face of the young woman sitting in front of her. What could she possibly have to be tired about? I suppose ever parasites get tired.

“What makes you believe I’ve ever met any of the Luthors?” Suzanne muttered averting her eyes.

“Call it intuition. Or practice,” Lena responded. “There’s a strong distinction between people who have heard of the Luthor reputation and those unfortunate enough to have first-hand experience as to how they earned that reputation.”

“That was years ago and of no consequence now,” Suzanne began.

“So let me guess? Lilian. Possibly with a dash of Lionel thrown in,” Lena interrupted tilting her head slightly. The blush staining the judge’s cheeks all but confirmed Lena’s guess. “I’m going to say you were young. Probably had the misfortune of catching Lionel’s eye at a party. Lilian has always been a possessive and vindictive thing. She may not have wanted Lionel herself but she’d be damned if anyone else would have him. She made a sport of destroying any who was unfortunate enough to be a target of Lionel’s attention while she was present.”

“What makes you think?” Suzanne stuttered.

“Like I said, practice,” Lena replied taking a breath. “God only knows why Lilian didn’t take out her husband’s infidelity on him rather than everyone else around him. Look, for whatever it’s worth I am sorry.”

“For what?” Suzanne asked siting in shock.

“That you were a target for a miserable and vindictive couple,” Lena sighed. “Now we can sit here and you can attempt to collect on the pound of flesh you may be owed, or we can get to the business at present.”

“And if I decide that I’d rather collect what’s due to me what would you do?” Suzanne asked curiously.

“Well then Judge Ellington, you’d find that my parents were masters when it came to teaching vindictiveness and power-plays and that I have always been a diligent student,” Lena replied folding her hands in her lap.

“Parents?” Suzanne responded.

“Yes, Lionel and Lilian Luthor are my parents.” Lena answered holding the judge’s gaze.

“I knew of Lex but I never knew that they had a second child. I’ve never heard your name mentioned in the press, but then I’ve made a habit of steering clear of all things Luthor related.” Suzanne replied.

“Yes well I attended boarding school and university in the UK,” Lena supplied.

“That explains the accent,” Suzanne replied finding the younger woman’s unblinking gaze slightly unnerving.

“Look,” Lena leaned forward and sighed. “I am not my parents. I’m just a woman trying to make a life for myself outside of my family’s name. The last thing I want to do is to keep paying their dues. I am not my parents and I’m not my brother. All I ask is that you judge me on my merits, give me the same consideration you would give to a perfect stranger on the streets, nothing more nothing less. Can you do that? Or are you one of those that believes that the sins of the father should be passed down to his children?”

Suzanne sighed as she realized that she could either do what the Luthors had done to her years before and judge the young woman sitting before her for someone else’s actions or she could let the past remain in the past and move forward. She had a sneaking suspicion as well that if riled this Luthor may turn out to be a worse enemy than the other three combined.

“What can I do for you Ms. Luthor?” she asked finally.

“I came to talk you about Mikayla Dawson,” Lena replied shocking the older woman. Why was a Luthor interested in an orphan?

“I had no idea Mikayla had a connection to your family,” Suzanne responded.

“She doesn’t,” Lena answered. “At least not yet. Were you aware that after your ruling yesterday that Mikayla was taken to the National City Group Home for Girls?”

“I didn’t know,” Suzanne sighed heavily. “But I suspected she would be at this time of year. God I wished I could’ve locked up her dad’s cousin and his brat of a wife for that they did.” Suzanne will forever regret the choice she was forced to make yesterday; no child should be without a family at the holidays.

“Karma will set those scales right eventually. But don’t worry if it takes too long I’m not above lending a helping hand,” Lena responded softly sending a shiver down Suzanne’s spine. Definitely not an enemy one wanted to make Suzanne thought. “My concern right now however is with Mikayla not her disgrace of a cousin.”

“May I ask why you are so concerned with a child you say you have no connection to?” Suzanne inquired.

“Because I was three years younger that Mikayla when my world crumbled around me. After my mom died and I was sent to the Luthors getting almost immediately shipped to boarding school was the last thing I needed,” Lena replied without changing expression. Her face was so devoid of emotion she might as well be talking about the weather.

“You’re adopted?” Suzanne asked in surprise for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Yes,” came the simple response.

“How can I help?” Suzanne asked immediately making up her mind to help in whatever way she could. She was rewarded with Lena’s first smile of the day. Seems the apple fell very far from the tree Suzanne thought listening to Lena’s proposal.

A long time after she glanced down at her watch and was surprised to see that it was almost 11AM.

“Usually she’s very conscientious about answering her cell phone,” Suzanne replied in frustration.

“It is the holidays after all,” Lena mused. “She may want some time with her family. She may even be out of town.”

“Not Kara Danvers,” Suzanne shook her head. “Kara is from a rare breed of social workers who actually loves the work she does. She goes above and beyond for all the children in her care. She’d never go out of town with Mikayla in a group home. Even if it’s so she could visit with her for a few hours so she’s not alone with strangers on Christmas.”

“Sounds like she’s in the perfect job,” Lena replied. “How do you know so much about her? Is she a friend of yours?”

“No, but yesterday I noticed how invested she was in Mikayla’s case so I made some calls,” Suzanne blushed. “Based on what I heard she invests 110% of herself into all her charges. Even checks up on them after they’ve been released from her care.”

“Sounds like she’s not the only one who takes an interest in her cases outside of what is expected,” Lena replied with another arch of her eyebrow.

“Yes well,” Suzanne cleared her throat without continuing.  “Based on what I’ve gathered her and her lawyer friend with the unfortunate name are quite the team. They do everything within their power and sometimes outside of their power to ensure that each child in their care gets a happy and loving home. The system could use more like them.”

“I’m happy to hear that Mikayla had them in her corner for the last three months,” Lena says standing and shrugging into her jacket.

“If you give me another hour I’m sure I can find someone who can locate another contact number for her,’ Suzanne offers.

“No need,” Lena replied. When Suzanne continued to look at her curiously Lena smiled mildly. “One thing you should know about me Judge Ellington; I never attempt an acquisition without first doing extensive research. I’m sure I’ll speak to Ms. Danvers before the day is out.” Shaking her hand and watching her leave Suzanne was just as sure that Kara Danvers was destined for a face to face with one Ms. Lena Luthor before the day was out.

“Ms. Tessmacher,” Lena greets her personal assistant when she answers her call. “Are you in the office as yet?”

“No Ms. Luthor,” Eve stutters. “You told me last night that we would begin at noon and it’s just past eleven so I just left out. I’m so sorry I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Well that would be a Christmas miracle considering your file shows that you live across town,” Lena replied. “Relax Ms. Tessmacher I do remember I told you we’d be getting a late start. That’s not why I called. Can you do me a favour?”

“Of course Ms. Luthor.” Eve replied confused. “How may I help?”

“I need you to stop at a department store and pick up a car-seat.” Lena answered.

“A car-seat?” Eve asked even more confused.

“Yes Ms. Tessmacher, a car-seat for a seven-year-old little girl,” Lena answered. “Let me know once you have it and your location and I will come and collect it and give you a lift to work.”

“Yes Ms. Luthor,” Eve replied no less confused that she was before. She is even more confused when her employer picks her up an hour later in a silver Toyota Prius.

“Surprised are we Ms. Tessmacher?” Lena asked amused.

“No Ms. Luthor,” Eve begins before noticing Lena’s raised eyebrow. “Well yes. You’re a billionaire why do you drive a Prius?”

“Because it’s unexpected,” Lena laughs. “Like you, no-one expects me to be driving a Prius. You’d be surprised how many times I’ve driven pass the paparazzi waiting for me without them batting an eye. When you do the unexpected you can get away with almost anything.”

“So basically, you’re hiding in plain sight,” Eve replied.

“A Luthor never hides Ms. Tessmacher, but yes.” Lena grins at her gaping secretary. Eve is starting wonder if her boss was feeling okay. In the six months that she’s been her personal assistant this is the most they have spoken about any topic that was not directly work related. Her thoughts are interrupted when Lena asks to make a short detour before heading to work.

“Of course Ms. Luthor,” Eve murmurs. She is given a further shock when they pull into a complex with a large dilapidated sign that reads “Welcome to National City Group Home for Girls”.

“This should not take long,” Lena states.