#c; jamie ( the neglected son )

[lymbycsystem]

TAG SPILLAGE : :

ooc : : ooc; calm, turtle talks, atlas bends

castiel: c; castiel ( the abandoned son) jamie: c; jamie ( the neglected son ) dean: c; dean ( there ain't no other men like me ) tim: c; timmy ( are you crazy i'm not gonna jump ) ben: soldier boy ( nobody's the new me pal ) ryan: c; ryan ( he burns everything down then kills me ) john; c; homelander (why am i not good enough for you ) c; homelander ( you are dark and i kind of like it ) c; homelander (i will laser every fucking one of you )

tag games: : dash games, dash tags, tag games

wishlists : : is this a wishlist?

memes : : memes, rp memes, please select a muse :

queues : : i hope that queue miss me cuz i miss queue too, absent queue

nsfw/usfw things : : ;hunger like me you know nothing satisfies me but your soul

negativity : : ooc tbd

[lymbycsystem]

Jamie clenched his teeth together and huffed in annoyance. There was plenty of reason to stand- the charlie horse for one fucking reason… he rolled his eyes at the insult to the name, but held off on smirking. God what he wouldn’t give to see his sisters face when this guy said that about her name. There seemed to be a thousand more questions that all raced to the surface of his mind when the man alluded to his own uncomfortable secrets. Jamie wanted to pry; he wanted to dig into the guys psyche like a doctor digging out bullet fragments on the war front, but nonetheless he did as he was instructed. He shut up and stayed seated.

He wanted to know what this guy was really doing and why he of all people in the family had been the one selected to be apprehended by this guy. And why wasn’t this douche canoe the final boss— who was? Jamie stretched his legs in silence and kept his eyes on his knees; anxiously bouncing them as he waited to be traded off to some other dead eyed miscreant. The dullness of the room made Jamie want to antagonize though; surely this guy had something— anything that made him tick.

Wandering eyes drifted from the ceiling and the walls back to the man at the table and Jamie found himself staring; hellbent on sucking the information he was curious for out telepathically. Dark brows creased in the middle, sharp in contrast to the blue that locked on the silent brooder manning his table like some obedient soldier. “What happens if you have the wrong guy?” Jamie broke, irritated by the stillness. “I might not even be the guy your boss-man wants, you don’t even know my name you’re just… sitting there all.. broody and moody and stressed about your wife, not that you really look like the type to want a wife, but I digress.” he trailed off and with one hand rubbed at the tender red skin on one wrist.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose briefly, the very sound of Jamie's voice quickly becoming a source of annoyance for him. He let go, a deep exhale following. "No. There is no reason for you to stand. And don't fucking call me Beth. That's a dumb name," he said sternly. Tucking the gun at the backside of him, he pulled a small pocket knife from his pocket. He learned forward to begin cutting the ropes, careful not to accidentally nip Jamie with the knife - though, why should he care? Guy was a complete ass. If anything, he was just trying not to get blood on his new loafers.

Finally, he finished cutting the ropes and tossed them to the side. He then grabbed the gun again and stepped back to sit down. "There. Now just keep quiet and all will be fine. With any luck, they'll be calling me soon and we can part ways. I gotta get back to my wife before she thinks...." He paused, his tone a low whisper at this point. He knew exactly what Amanda thought when he was gone for long periods of time and he didn't need her bitching at him about Trevor again when it hardly had anything to do with him this time. "Never mind, just shut up."

@lymbycsystem

[lymbycsystem]

When he was shoved forward into Trevor’s reach, Jamie took a quick second to glance around the tent attempting to take in all the belongings crammed inside. The threat of a mouthful of soap did nothing to rattle his nerves, but being considered a liar was another thing. His face grew red and his hands balled up into fists- angry and confused and… mostly tired, maybe lost. He didn’t know. In curiosity he tilted his head and stared back at Richard who looked right back at Trevor with a hardening scowl; an irritated “tell the truth kid, you don’t wanna find out the hard way like some of us have about lyin’.” Following as he set his hand on his hip; fingers tapping idly at the gun in his holster.

“I’m not a liar!” Jamie looked up at Trevor and tried to force the strength he was lacking into his voice. But between the traveling; being spooked out in the woods, the already getting yelled at for breaking something earlier and now getting caught in a camp he didn’t recognize.. it was hard to not be overwhelmed. His eyes glistened slightly, but he wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t a baby. “He works here.. he does. I can take you to him.” Jamie insisted; convinced he was still within the boundaries of the facility his father was working in. “You gotta go up to the path and into the trees back where the big fence is… then you crawl between the wires and he’s there. Im not lying!” he explained, trying to overpower the racing beat of his heart in his chest.

“The fence!?” Richard exclaimed leaning his head back and wiping a hand over his face with an exasperated breath. “That’s up by Delacourt.” He looked from the kid to Trevor.

Well, wasn't this little shit a handful? Trevor tilted his head, lowering the gun as the curse word flew awkwardly from his lips. He cracked a light grin, somewhat impressed. "Ha! You know, we got some soap we could wash that little mouth out with," Trevor warned, clearly more humored by the situation than annoyed. He placed the gun back down in its holster, taking a step back before motioning with his hand for Richard to hand Jamie over.

When he did, Trevor's hand moved to grasp the boy's shirt, tugging him closer with ease - half to keep him at a safe distance from Richard and his growing anger. "Your daddy works here, huh? At this camp? Funny, none of my men told me they had their little scamp running around so maybe you should try again, little man. Cause I don't like liars. Richard here can speak on that, can't ya' Richard?" Trevor glanced up at him through the corner of his eyes, expecting the correct answer to come out.

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

Cover Photo Credit Brooke Smart The Opinion Pages | OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR Sheryl Sandberg: How to Build Resilient Kids, Even After a Loss After my husband’s death, I set out to learn everything I could about how kids persevere through adversity. By SHERYL SANDBERGAPRIL 24, 2017 Continue reading the main storyShare This Page Share Tweet Email More Save Two years ago, in an instant, everything changed for my family and me. While my husband, Dave, and I were on vacation, he died suddenly from a cardiac arrhythmia. Flying home to tell my 7-year-old daughter and 10-year-old son that their father had died was the worst experience of my life. During that unimaginable trip, I turned for advice to a friend who counsels grieving children. She said that the most important thing was to tell my kids over and over how much I loved them and that they were not alone. In the fog of those early and brutal weeks and months, I tried to use the guidance she had given me. My biggest fear was that my children’s happiness would be destroyed by our devastating loss. I needed to know what, if anything, I could do to get them through this. I also started talking with my friend Adam Grant, a psychologist and professor who studies how people find motivation and meaning. Together, we set out to learn everything we could about how kids persevere through adversity. Continue reading the main story ADVERTISEMENT Continue reading the main story As parents, teachers and caregivers, we all want to raise resilient kids — to develop their strength so they can overcome obstacles big and small. Resilience leads to better health, greater happiness and more success. The good news is that resilience isn’t a fixed personality trait; we’re not born with a set amount of it. Resilience is a muscle we can help kids build. And every kid faces challenges. Some stumbles are part of growing up. Forgetting lines in a school play. Failing a test. Losing a big game. Seeing a friendship unravel. Other hardships are far more severe. Two out of 10 children in the United States live in poverty. More than 2.5 million kids have a parent in jail, and many endure serious illness, neglect, abuse or homelessness. We know that the trauma from experiences like these can last a lifetime; extreme harm and deprivation can impede a child’s intellectual, social, emotional and academic progress. As a society, we owe all our children safety, support, opportunity and help finding a way forward. We can start by showing children that they matter. Sociologists define “mattering” as the belief that other people notice you, care about you and rely on you. It’s the answer to a vital question that all children ask about their place in the world starting as toddlers, and continuing into and beyond adolescence: Do I make a difference to others? When the answer is no, kids feel rejected and alone. They become more prone to self-destructive (“Hurting myself isn’t a big deal, since I don’t count anyway”) and antisocial behaviors (“I might be doing something bad, but at least I’ve got your attention”). Others withdraw. Not long ago, a friend picked up her son from a summer day camp and found him beaming with pride that he’d finished the robot he’d spent two days building. The next morning, he returned to find his robot had been destroyed: Bullies had taken only his apart — and then told him that he was worthless. After that day, his mother watched him sink into a spiral of anxiety and depression. Even when he went back to school in the fall, she recalled, “he’d put on his hoodie and sit in the back, in his own world.” Adolescents who feel that they matter are less likely to suffer from depression, low self-esteem and suicidal thoughts. They’re less likely to lash out at their families and engage in rebellious, illegal and harmful behaviors. Once they reach college, they have better mental health. Opinion Today Every weekday, get thought-provoking commentary from Op-Ed columnists, The Times editorial board and contributing writers from around the world. Sign Up Receive occasional updates and special offers for The New York Times's products and services. SEE SAMPLE MANAGE EMAIL PREFERENCES PRIVACY POLICY As parents, we sometimes feel helpless because it’s impossible to solve our children’s problems. In those situations, we can still provide support by “companioning” — walking alongside them and listening. Adam told me about evidence-based programs at Arizona State University that help families cope with parental loss and divorce. These programs teach parents to create and maintain warm and strong relationships, communicate openly with children, use effective discipline, avoid depression and help their children develop coping skills and strategies. When families participate in these programs for 10 to 12 sessions, over the next six years children have fewer mental-health and substance-abuse problems, higher grades and better biological stress responses. One afternoon, I sat down with my kids to write out “family rules” to remind us of the coping mechanisms we would need. We wrote together that it’s O.K. to be sad and to take a break from any activity to cry. It’s O.K. to be happy and laugh. It’s O.K. to be angry and jealous of friends and cousins who still have fathers. It’s O.K. to say to anyone that we do not want to talk about it now. And it’s always O.K. to ask for help. The poster we made that day — with the rules written by my kids in colored markers — still hangs in our hall so we can look at it every day. It reminds us that our feelings matter and that we are not alone. Dave and I had a tradition at the dinner table with our kids in which each of us would share the best and worst moments of our day. Giving children undivided attention — something we all know is important but often fail to do — is another of the key steps toward building their resilience. My children and I have continued this tradition, and now we also share something that makes us feel grateful to remind ourselves that even after loss, there is still so much to appreciate in life. For my friend’s son whose robot was destroyed, a turning point came when one of his former teachers got in touch to see how he was doing and started spending time with him every week. She encouraged him to reach out to other kids and make friends, then followed up, reinforcing each step he took. She cared. He mattered. When a new kid started at the school, the teacher encouraged them to get together, and the friendship took. “It made such a difference for a teacher to take an interest in him and a friend to bond with him,” his mom said. “It was like the sun came out in our house.” ADVERTISEMENT Continue reading the main story Since my children were so young when they lost their father, I am afraid that their memories of him will fade, and this breaks my heart all over again. Adam and I also learned that talking about the past can build resilience. When children grow up with a strong understanding of their family’s history — where their grandparents grew up, what their parents’ childhoods were like — they have better coping skills and a stronger sense of mattering and belonging. Jamie Pennebaker, a psychologist at the University of Texas, has found that expressing painful memories can be uncomfortable in the moment, but improves mental and even physical health over time. To keep Dave’s memory alive, I asked dozens of his closest family members, friends and colleagues to capture their stories about him on video. I also taped my children sharing their own memories, so that as they grow up, they will know which are truly theirs. This past Thanksgiving my daughter was distraught, and when I got her to open up, she told me, “I’m forgetting Daddy because I haven’t seen him for so long.” We watched the video of her talking about him, and it gave her some comfort. Talking openly about memories — not just positive ones, but difficult ones, too — can help kids make sense of their past and rise to future challenges. It’s especially powerful to share stories about how the family sticks together through good times and bad, which allows kids to feel that they are connected to something larger than themselves. Studies show that giving all members of the family a chance to tell their version builds self-esteem, particularly for girls. And making sure to integrate different perspectives into a coherent story builds a sense of control, particularly for boys. 117 COMMENTS A friend of mine who lost his mother when he was young told me that over time, she no longer seemed real. People were either afraid to mention her or spoke of her in idealized terms. My hope is to hold on to Dave as he really was: loving, generous, brilliant, funny and also pretty clumsy. He would spill things constantly yet was always somehow shocked when he did. Now, when emotions are running high in our house, but my son stays calm, I tell him, “You are just like your daddy.” When my daughter stands up for a classmate who is getting picked on, I say, “Just like your daddy.” And when either of them knocks a glass over, I say it, too. Sheryl Sandberg is the author, with Adam Grant, of “Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy,” from which this essay is adapted. Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and Twitter (@NYTopinion), and sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter. A version of this op-ed appears in print on April 24, 2017, on Page A23 of the New York edition with the headline: How to Build Resilient Kids, Even After a Loss. Today's Paper|Subscribe Continue reading the main story

[lymbycsystem]

Tommy’s gesture to hold him back was noted; surprisingly it was followed just the same. His features twitched in anger; he’d spent so many years following the lead of his father’s watchdog that it didn’t seem right to leave without finishing the fight- without severely incapacitating one of them. His tongue slid out against the blood on his lips and his face twisted in semi-disgust at the wet, irony taste that still flooded his mouth.

Tommy’s calm logical approach was a stark contrast to Jamie’s shoot and ask questions after approach. Yet somehow Tommy’s words held more weight than the snickers drifting over his shoulders. In a split second Jamie’s expression shifted from pure anger to defeated shame; like he was back to being that kid still letting down a guy who never even wanted to be his father. For the sake of giving Tommy break from opening up a file on him, Jamie relented.

He spit the warm blood onto the sidewalk and used the back of his arm to clean it from his face once they were out of the bar. “You’d really arrest me for hurting them? Even if it was justified even if it fell under…verbal… battery and self defense?” his mind was still too high on adrenaline to think of any good lawyer loophole. “They weren’t worth it to you, but, they were worth it to me.” He huffed and cleared his throat. “Do you ever feel like you’re living through something that’s not real but you can’t wake up from it?” Jamie asked Tommy, purposely keeping it vague to gauge his reaction.

Tommy knew most of the men in this bar - some just as regular patrons and others from their criminal record ending up on his desk. He may have even arrested one or two of them at one point. The one's Jamie had been fighting with weren't good news. Once Tommy's grip fell from Jamie's collar, he slid over to stand between him and the group; at least to put some distance between them all.

With his attention only on Jamie, he put his hands up in a gesture to hold him off. "Yeah, okay...maybe you don't need my help, but I don't wanna end up having to take you out of here in cuffs, man. So, maybe calm down?" It was the best excuse he could come up with without making Jamie feel like he couldn't take these guys. "Let's just go somewhere else, alright? There's hundreds of different bars in this city, we don't need to hang around this dump." He could hear the group of men behind him snickering which brought tension to Tommy's shoulders for fear Jamie might pounce again. "They aren't worth it, you know that."

[lymbycsystem]

“Oh, and I’m the quick one?” Jamie huffed a soft laugh, determined to ignore the way red bloomed beneath his skin, painting his cheeks with ease. He turned away into a shake of his head both to hide the blush and to try and think of something to keep the conversation going. Luckily he didn’t have to, another offer was made and that time Jamie looked back at him and tilted his head against his shoulder. “I actually already asked and they said you have some weird mouth issue,” Jamie motioned in circular movements to his own mouth. “You know super slobbery and wet, I wouldn’t wanna embarrass you by having to confirm they’re right and everything.” He laughed that time. He chewed the inside of his bottom lip and tapped his pen to his notebook again. “What’d they get you for anyway?”

"Hold my hand? Damn, man, you move quick. You gonna offer to kiss me to ease my nerves too or just the hand-holding for now?" Tommy asked, pressing his face into his arm to hold back a snicker. When he looked back up and over at the new kid, his brows raised and a cheeky grin slid across the length of his lips. "Not that I'd be opposed to it or anything. I'm the best kisser in this school, just ask anyone," he added, shrugging his shoulders

[lymbycsystem]

Sure it seemed trivial when one of the upperclassmen shouldered him so hard his belongings hit the floor. But they'd feigned apologies and when he'd been beaned in the head with the first bookbag, Jamie chalked it up to the guy just slinging it to his other shoulder. Until another whacked his head the other way. So it was a game of cat and mouse. "Assholes." he mumbled under his breath.

One of them kicked his hand- sending his book skittering against the far lockers and suddenly one of them had the front of his shirt in his hands hoisting him up from the floor before slamming him hard against the metal lockers. "Three against one, that's real fair- did your dads teach you how to fight like that or--" he exhaled a groan when he was socked in the stomach, grabbing his chest to gather the wind that had been knocked out of his lungs with the hit.

The growing half circle was intimidating in a frustrating way- every fist against the locker was meant to illicit a response from him and each time he jumped or closed his eyes he was met with taunts and laughter. Jamie's eyes widened at first, then hardened in a focused stare when the familiar face broke through the crowd, the main one pinning him against the locker turned with a grin though. "Oh come on, Johnny, we're just welcoming the new guy, you know, makin' sure he knows the ropes around here. Lighten up man." he laughed, clapping a free hand on Johnny's shoulder.

@lymbycsystem Semi-Plotted Starter from Johnny Lawrence

Johnny strolled down the empty hall, his hall pass tucked into his front pocket. It poked out just enough that a teacher would immediately see him and have no reason to stop him. Of course, he should've been in class - his algebra grade had been suffering lately. What did he care, though? His mom never paid much attention to his grades and his step dad didn't give a shit what he did.

Yup, he was skipping class.

Just as he turned down into the last bit of hallway, the sight of a few kids gathered around another caught his attention. The group had some boy pinned against the locker. Johnny stopped briefly, considering whether he should get involved.

Wasn't him. Not a kid in this school had the guts to fight him. Why should he give a shit if some other kid was getting it? Probably deserved it anyway. Johnny started off again, but as he drew closer, he realized he recognized the face of the boy pinned against the locker. His old friend. His features immediately shuffled into a scowl and he darted forward, shoving the kids out of the way. "Hey! Knock it off, will ya'?"

[lymbycsystem]

"Alright, alright, jesus." Jamie rolled his eyes with a hard scowl leveled right back at Mikey. His eyes wandered the dusted remnants of the place- cracked walls, bullet-hole ridden glass. The place was just a haunting memory of what had once been splendor wrapped in brand new extravagance... Now it was dark, abandoned, and spooky even.

He paced a few times beside Mikey before something along the far wall caught his attention and without a word Jamie slipped away to go wander. Maybe it was against his better judgement to be poking around in places where the threats could be invisible and silent, but Jamie wasn't really one to measure all the risks anymore- he left that old thought out to death lawyer lifestyle behind for impulse and curiosity.

He had a sinking pang of danger that began to swirl low in his stomach after a few minutes, but tried to ignore it, swallowing down the way it wormed its way up his throat. "What'd'you have against me so bad- I can't even breathe wrong without it yanking your shorts up your ass." Something glittered on the floor and Jamie crouched down to reach for it, slowly pausing and looking up when he heard the guttural clicking throat noise in the hollow space between himself and the curved corner of the room. Where he should've warned Mikey that something was in there Jamie was seized with utter silence- always one to be silenced by fear.

@lymbycsystem said you're fucking up on purpose, aren't you? (jamie mikey)

Michael scoffed, directing a stern glare at Jamie from behind the blank computer screen. It was a miracle that the thing even still turned on, but he didn't have any idea how to access any files or even get past the security code.

"You wanna fuckin' do this?" He asked, almost aggressively. It was annoying enough to be stuck on this island - even worse to be stuck on it with Jamie of all people; Trevor's new little boy toy as Mikey called it. "There's a million possibilities for this security code, asshole. It's not as simple as just turning on the computer and a map of the island pulls up - InGen's not a bitch about their security whether this place is abandoned or not."

[lymbycsystem]

Every once in a while the fleeting thought of "I could take you." would pass through Jamie's thoughts when he was forced to interact with Mikey, but at the same time his bone dry demeanor was invigorating. Until he brought Trevor into it... and compared him to that maniacal poacher. Jamie had his own history with Delacourt- one he refused to reveal unless desperate times called for it. Which they hadn't yet.

Blue eyes narrowed and he tilted his chin up just a bit as he swallowed. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you." Jamie ignored his dateless remark and kept his tone serious along with his expression. "Did you willingly shove a stick up your ass or did you just fall on the entire tree?" His features remained hardened and for the first time Jamie didn't feel like playfully antagonizing the man. "I'd rather have my dick chewed off by Moonshine than help that motherfucker..." there was a bite to his words- something that went deeper than just hating the guy, but again, Jamie wasn't willing to open up about him. "You're no prize yourself, princess..." Jamie squinted then shook his head and went back to tinkering with a walkie talkie.

@lymbycsystem said "Sorry I called you a fucking idiot, I was trying to flirt." (from jamie)

"I don't imagine you get many dates then." Mikey's comment came out as dry of humor as he'd meant it. He didn't like the guy to begin with. Then again, he hardly ever took a liking to any of Trevor's little pets - besides Moonshine, of course. "Where'd Trevor pick a guy like you up from anyway? You look like the type that would make runs for Delacourt's camp." In its own way, it was an insult; though he didn't elaborate much further. He didn't need to. Everyone in Trevor's camp knew how much he detested Delacourt.

[lymbycsystem]

He inhaled a loud gasping breath when the gun was locked and loaded on the man holding him. Jamie’s eyes went wide and his jaw remained dropped- ready to catch any flies that buzzed in. He’d watched men working in the camp his dad was hired on kill animals… but never other guys; except one and the man had threatened him to secrecy. A hard pinch to his neck bought tears to Jamie’s eyes though and he couldn’t hold in the loud “ow!” That whined out of him and without warning the guy dropped him; angling him forwards so he’d land hard on his hands and knees.

“Don’t hurt me-.” Jamie was more upset at how the man pinched him hard enough to not only leave a mark, but make tears fall so he rolled over onto his back and pulled his knees into his chest and then kicked Richard with his heels right in the shins. His father was a strict guy with rules about manner and behaviors and language… but he wasn’t there right now. Jamie pulled his knees in and then launched his legs out to kick the guy again; but the man was fast and caught him by one ankle, half yanking him up off the floor by the leg; leaving Jamie at an awkward slant with his arms and half his mop of hair flat against the floor. “Let go of me… motherfucker!” The swear sounded forced and all wrong coming out of his mouth, but he was determined and had the tenacity to pull it off anyway. “My dad works here and he can kick your ass!” Jamie claimed, reaching for the man with the gun’s leg; as if he could take both grown men on at once.

Trevor started to laugh, initially thinking that the bite came from a small dinosaur as he originally suspected. It wasn't until his guy yanked the kid out from under the bed. In an instant, he stood up and practically lunged forward, his humor turning into a deep scowl.

"Hey, fuckin' easy! Put the damn kid down, Richard," he demanded through a hiss, memories of his own father scooping him up in that exact same way hitting him like a brick. "He bit you because you stuck your hands under the bed. It's your own damn fault, idiot." Never mind the fact that Trevor had been the one to tell him to check to begin with - trap an animal in the corner, it's going to bite.

At first, Richard didn't budge. He kept Jamie held up into the air, fury in his venomous gaze. Trevor's jaw tensed, he hated not being listened to instantly. Pulling his gun from the holster, he put it to Richard's head. "You too fuckin' stupid to hear me or something? I said put the fuckin' kid down. Now. Unless you want me to splatter those dumb brains of yours all over this tent."