#only the parts where he gets to claim what a genius her dad is lol

[prowerprojects]

I really want Orbot and Cubot to like Sage... I have a need. They already like Metal Sonic (And even try to claim brotherhood with him) even though he's not nice to them at all and Eggman likes him more (eeehhh well sort of).

And Sage immediately accepted them as her siblings despite not ever meeting them. I think they would cry if they knew.

[shreddedleopard]

Twelve-million more reasons Historia and Levi are part of the Endgame. With Pictures.

You can read the first post I made on this here:

10 reasons it would make narrative sense for Levi and Historia’s character arcs to end together.

(This is the mega-evolved version.)

Okay, I’m going to put this out there now, and before you judge me, please just read the posts. You don’t have to agree. This is just an idea. But it makes a stupid amount of sense, at least to me. So here's your fair warning (and now I'm being bold): If you don’t want to potentially be spoiled, Do Not Read On.

Here’s the Theory:

Historia Reiss will give birth to a half-Ackerman child, and together with Levi, from the ashes and ruins of the world Eren destroyed, they will welcome the dawn of a new age for humanity, where Ymir’s curse and the power of the Titans is extinct.

I know. I sound like some crazy, Rivahisu nut. Granted, I am, but I’m not mad enough to make a claim like this without a shit-ton of evidence, because it’s such a damn twist it feels like it can’t be true. But just humour me.

Here’s the theory, then we’ll look at why it makes sense and how it might have been foreshadowed. Please note: I have less clue how this will tie in to Eremika endgame, so I haven’t mentioned this as much, but obviously that will be the other very important side of this coin.

10 months ago (In Japan, full term pregnancy is counted as 10 months), at the banquet celebrating completion of the new railroad, Levi and Historia, having had 3 and a bit years to bond over their shared experiences and become close, may have gotten carried away together and shared one night of being a bit more than friends. She’s well into her 18th year at this point, just to clear that up. This resulted in Historia getting pregnant. Okay just stay with me; I know. I know. I sound crazy. But hear me out. So this pregnancy, contrary to the belief of the MPs and rest of the damn world, was the complete opposite of planned. Historia tells Levi, and Levi immediately panics. Because, to steal Kenny’s famous line, Levi thinks to himself ‘I can’t be some kid’s dad.’

 Levi does what he always does best, and shuts down into business mode, telling Historia she will need to cover it up somehow. Historia does as he asks, probably reluctantly, because she really has developed very deep feelings for him during the timeskip, and finds some farm hand to take the blame, likely saying she made a silly mistake with some random and the father doesn’t want anything to do with the child, and so she needs a father for the child not to be illegitimate. Which is her worst nightmare, because of course, that’s what she was. Levi watches the exchange hidden in that famous hood, feeling very conflicted, because although he cares about her, he thinks it best if no one knows that it was him that got the Queen pregnant, and of course, he’s duty bound, with a vow to fulfil, so he has no time to be worrying about a family. (Silly Levi!) 

How ironic this conversation would be if this theory were true. Remember, Historia was completely willing to eat Zeke if needed. Instead, she got pregnant, unplanned, nothing to do with any plot or selfish wishes, just the result of a spontaneous act of love by two people who’ve grown to care for one another a lot. ANYWAY.

Because we know Levi actually has a good heart, he feels immensely guilty for all of this; he's just a product of his upbringing and thinks he doesn’t know the first thing about families, so it's better for all involved if he not be. See where this is going? The old cursed history repeating? Making the same mistakes as our parents? Plus, Levi is bound by his duty. He is incredibly important to the military still, and he cannot just abandon this for any of his own selfish wishes. He’s supposed to be the one to vanquish the beast titan. 

Cue ten months of Historia looking hella depressed and hopeless, and Levi being even more of an asshole than usual to everyone, and not really wanting to say too much at all, as well as making some terrible workplace decisions (lol) poor boy be distracted.

Look at his face 😭

Yes Levi. A month. Which means Historia is now due and you’re still stuck with beardy, without a solution and pretty soon no reason for the MPs not to turn the mother of your child into a Titan.

That’s what that face is. I thought he looked a bit weird first time I read these panels 🤔 He didn’t know about the wine. We see that later. Anyway, I keep getting distracted, stop. I’ll come back to this.

But fear not; Levi will have a choice to make. 

So this is where it gets a bit more iffy for me, because I'm not sure how it would work, so this could be a way off, BUT. I believe it will come to light that the combination of Royal and Ackerman genes will somehow cancel out a person’s ability to turn into a titan and connection through paths, thus making them truly ‘free.’

The founding titan has the ability to change Eldian physiology, according to what Zeke learned from professor Xavier. 

EDIT: Okay so here’s where I’ve had to tweak this a bit in light of there latest chapter. So we just had Zeke in PATHS. With none other than our second resident genius, and as proclaimed by Eren, the saviour of humanity: Armin. What do our boys have a conversation about? Reproduction and the importance of the small moments in life - it’s these little moments which matter, regardless of the desire or need to recreate. Interesting how both the leaf and baseball link back to what their ideas of ‘family’ became. If Historia and Levi were to be in the same scenario in PATHS, what would their items be? What truly means family to them both? 

Perhaps Armin and Zeke realise what is needed to lift the curse of the titans - maybe a blueprint for genes which can cancel out the connection to PATHS and the founder? If only they had a child with a new type of Royal-Ackerman DNA which might fit the bill ... 

Here’s Levi’s moment. He, with Historia, has created such a child - completely by accident, because of one of those ‘moments’ that both Armin and Zeke mention - moments that are simply just about enjoying what you have with no sense of how it might relate to anything bigger - a real rarity for both of them, considering their roles and constantly being asked to think about the good of humanity as a whole. What a beautiful irony, that in the moment they chose to be selfish and, to use freckled Ymir’s own words, really live for themselves, they set a chain reaction in motion that would ultimately save humanity. 

Where does this leave Eren and Mikasa? Good question. I believe Eren will die once the curse is removed, because tragically he is the character that has been forced to choose humanity over his own personal relationships. As Isayama has said before, Eren is a victim of the story. Mikasa will be the last thing he sees, hence the original dream at the start of the manga, where he wakes up crying. Something like this. But probably a lot better. Yeah.

Out of the ashes of the old world, a new one will be built, but through Historia’s kindness and love, and Levi’s guilt and understanding of what was sacrificed in the past, society will not repeat the same mistakes. The final panel could be Jean holding his child, perhaps with Mikasa, if she ever manages to get over losing Eren. That would be vague enough so that Isayama was able to show it to us already without spoiling much. Or maybe Jean’s dead and it’s not him at all. I don’t know. 😭

Right. Okay. So now you’re going, sweet story, but uh, there’s no way Levi could be the father. He’s so much older. Isayama wouldn't write a moment of romance like that. Not with him and Historia. YOU’RE JUST CRAZY.

Well this is where it get’s interesting. LET ME SHOW YOU. It’s foreshadowed literally everywhere. Right under our noses.

There is so much symbolism.

Dedicate your heart to what? has been Levi’s question recently. What are they all fighting for? What is he fighting for? How will he give meaning to his dead comrades sacrifices? Is killing Zeke really the extent of it? Is vengeance the true meaning of their sacrifices? Or is it something a lot more hopeful?

The answer is shown to us in the opening credits. And the ending credits. Several times. 

Levi says so himself - he keeps messing fulfilling the vow up - why? Why is he so worried about killing Zeke? 

Eren has the same questions to consider. Which PATH is the right one to take - revenge and violence with the rumbling, or love ... with Mikasa. We are literally shown what their choices will be in two virtually identically designed panels, which I’ll show you. Tragically, Eren’s choice is taken from him. He is a victim to the story - he must chose the path that saves humanity. Levi and Eren have been bound together through the theme of choices, and taking the ones which leave you with the least regrets, throughout this entire manga.

The upcoming anime episodes literally plot out the timeline of Levi and Historia’s changing attitude to one another, and then Historia’s pregnancy, it’s just so cleverly subtle. Isayama even tells us when/ during what event her child was probably conceived by just dropping dates in from other, seemingly unrelated plot lines.

Zeke gives pointed comments to Levi constantly - every other line of his is either a different jab at Levi about Historia’s pregnancy, a veiled question, or a reminder that he’s under the pressure of a 10 month time limit to do something about him, or Historia will have to eat him once she’s given birth. We start to see Levi unravel because of this, and make mistakes over and over.

It’s in official art. It’s in the soundtrack. Its in music videos. There’s interviews from Isayama that, when read in light of these ideas, suddenly take on a whole new meaning.

Isayama even trolls us. He’s laughing in our faces, the madman. Like, gotchu 🤣 suckers. While we’re all on Reddit and Twitter like, ‘Levi’s character has become so stagnated! He’s making such poor choices or not giving anything to the plot at all. All that’s left for him now is to give up and die! Be at peace, your story is over.’ OOF. Or, ‘Historia has just been forgotten! She’s become such a pointless character. Isayama just got bored with her and sidelined her.’

I’m going to try and write stuff up in the rough categories below, but these might change. I’ll link them when I’m done, and then pin this post. I’m a bit of a rambler so heads up - this may take a while 😅

There’s also a ton of people I have to mention who have contributed to this - I didn’t spot it by myself. I’ll tag them in the finished post too.

Historia and Levi’s Miscalculation: A manga tale featuring the Jaeger Bros., Pt. 1

Historia and Levi’s Miscalculation: A manga tale featuring the Jaeger Bros., Pt. 2

Historia and Levi’s Miscalculation: A manga tale featuring the Jaeger Bros., Pt. 3

Ackerman-Royal Bloodline and Levi’s Choice Pt. 1

Levi’s Choice Pt. 2

Suns, Moons and Songs

Akatsuki No Requiem - Right theory, Wrong guy

The Farmer and The Cattle Farming Goddess, or WHAT’S IN A NAME.

Mistakes of our parents and breaking the cycle

Memories from the future & Levi’s Guilt

Watch this space. And hold on to your pants. If I’m right, I’m getting very drunk.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

To the anon who requested the school prompts; I attempted to write something about a parent-teacher meeting, but I couldn’t come up with a believable way for both Freddie and Jim to attend, given that Freddie would draw way too much attention. I hope you don’t mind if I skip that one. Here’s your request for Freddie picking up Khaleel from school!

Part 36 of Jimercury Kid series

‘Fucking vultures.’ Freddie muttered under his breath, as he sat with Kashmira in her car and observed the small group of journalists who had gathered at the corner of the street opposite Khaleel’s school.

They always hung around there, holding out hope that the little boy might walk through the gates, and they would finally be able to snap a picture of his face to put on the front page of their shitty tabloids. But they were wasting their time. Special arrangements had been made to ensure that Khaleel always exited the school from the back of the building, where Jim or Terry would be waiting to pick him up. By the time the vermin from News of the World had set up their cameras, their target was long gone.

The school run was something that Freddie had always longed to be involved in. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to be able to sit in the car and wait for his little boy to come bouncing through the back doors and into his arms. He wanted to help Khaleel put his seatbelt on and laugh when the child insisted he was a big boy and could do it himself. He wanted to sit in the passenger seat, Khaleel’s bookbag and lunchbox balanced on his lap while his bijou excitedly chatted away about what he got up to in class that day, while Jim turned on the radio and made faces at their son through the rear-view mirror.

He wanted to do what every other parent did. But he couldn’t, because he knew wherever he went the paparazzi would be hot on his tail. All sorts of rumours were still circulating in the press about Kenny’s origins. Some still believed he was the secret lovechild of Freddie and Mary, others reported that he was the result of a one-night stand with a fan and perhaps the worst was a statement made by an anonymous “inside source,” who claimed Freddie had purchased him from the Middle East for over fifty million Indian rupees.

He had resigned himself to the reality that there were some things in Khaleel’s life that he would just have to miss out on. Like end-of-year plays, and parent-teacher meetings, and taking the boy to and from school.

That was until Kash had came up with a rather genius idea.

Freddie’s private car would be easily noticed by the paparazzi. But hers wouldn’t.

‘There he goes.’ Freddie said as the Volvo in front of them pulled away from the pavement and began driving towards the back entrance of the school. ‘Be ready, Kash.’

‘Feels like bloody Mission Impossible.’ Kash laughed, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. ‘I don’t know how you put up with this every day. Why didn’t you just save yourself the trouble and stick to painting?’

Freddie chuckled despite himself. ‘Sometimes I wonder.’

He was glad they could still have conversations like this. They had briefly fallen out of contact after the whole ordeal with social services, but Freddie quickly realised that Kashmira wasn’t the one at fault and she had proved her loyalty to him by telling the truth. Even if they weren’t children anymore, defying their parents was no easy feat and poor Kash was withstanding the worst of the fallout.

‘How are they?’ Freddie asked quietly, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear him. But he should have known better; nothing got past his sister.

‘Not good.’ She replied, still looking out towards the road. ‘They keep asking after you, wanting to know if you’re alright. They ask about Khaleel a lot as well. I never know what to say.’

Freddie felt his jaw clench instinctively. ‘Tell them the truth. It’s been two years and he still has nightmares about what happened. He’s still scared to be left alone and can’t stand to be away from us for too long. It was months before he would go into school without clinging to Jim and begging him not to leave. Dr Atkinson says it may affect him for the rest of his life. You tell them that next time they have the nerve to ask you how Khaleel is doing.’

Kash sighed, glancing down at her hands which were gripping the steering wheel. ‘They really regret what they did, Freddie.’

Freddie rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t start, Kash. If you expect me to forgive them-’

‘No, I don’t.’ His sister cut in, her voice eerily calm. ‘If they had done that to Nathalie and Jamal, I wouldn’t forgive them either. I’m not questioning your decision. I just…’ her hands tightened around the wheel a moment as she lost herself in thought, ‘…I need you to know that they’re truly sorry. I know their apologies mean nothing at this point, but they’re not trying to justify their decisions anymore. They’ve accepted that they did a terrible thing and brought everything that’s happened upon themselves. They’re not asking for forgiveness; they just need you to know that they realise they were wrong.’

Freddie hadn’t anticipated such an answer. He was dumbstruck for a moment, tongue retreating behind his teeth as he allowed her words to sink in. As much as he would deny it, there was still a part of him that longed for the company of his mother and father again; he still found himself lingering by the phone on occasion, half hoping they might call or listening for the buzz of the intercom in case they decided to drop by. Knowing that they were truly sorry didn’t make the pain go away but it did give him an odd sense of comfort.

Before he could respond, he saw the Volvo pulling out onto the road ahead, slowly turning the corner until it was out of sight.

‘Here we go.’ A grin spread across Kash’s face as she belted herself in. ‘Keep your head down.’

Freddie ducked out of view as they passed the huddle of reporters, raising his hand to flip them off before sitting up straight in his seat while Kash cackled like a hyena. They drove up the street and turned the corner where the Volvo was sitting waiting for them.

‘Thank you, Kash.’ Freddie said gently, knowing they only had a limited amount of time before the rest of the students came pouring out onto the street. The last thing he needed was to be chased by a gang of schoolchildren at his age. ‘For this, and for telling me how Mama and Papa are. I appreciate it.’

Kashmira smiled at him, though it looked rather strained. ‘You’re welcome.’ Then she added, almost nervously. ‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Yes.’ Freddie replied, voice almost catching in his throat. ‘I know. I love you too.’

He opened the car door and went to step out, glancing over at the Volvo where Khaleel was sitting in the backseat, bouncing excitedly at the sight of his Baba. Freddie hesitated a moment, before turning to Kash again. ‘Why don’t you and Roger come over for dinner tonight? Bring the kids with you?’

Kashmira’s dark eyes batted in surprise, but she didn’t look displeased. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Jim’s making shepherd's pie tonight and he always makes too much, so…’ He shrugged in a rather lukewarm effort to display indifference, when in fact his heart was hammering painfully. To his relief, Kash smiled.

‘That sounds perfect. I’d love to come.’

‘About six ’clock?’

‘We’ll be there.’

Freddie nodded, the tightness in his chest finally ceasing to be. He wandered if he should embrace her, but decided he wasn’t quite ready for that step and simply said, ‘see you later,’ before shutting the door and making his way over to the Volvo.

‘Baba!’ Khaleel cried as soon as Freddie was near, and he rolled his window down so Freddie could poke his head through and start covering him in kisses. ‘You came, you came!’

‘Yes, I did!’ Freddie blew a raspberry into the child’s neck, making him squeal. ‘We better take you home and get your homework finished – Auntie Kash and your cousins are coming over for dinner.’

Khaleel’s blue-green eyes went wide with joy. ‘Are Dādī and Dādā coming too?’

Freddie’s smile disappeared and he briefly made eye contact with Jim, before saying, ‘I’m sorry, darling. Dādī and Dādā are very busy.’

Khaleel crossed his arms and pouted, ‘they’re always busy.’

‘I know…’ That familiar tightness returned to Freddie's chest, squeezing until it almost hurt to breathe. ‘But let’s not think about that now. Daddy’s making shepherd’s pie, and if you finish your homework on time, you can help him stir the pot.’

This seemed to put the boy in good spirits again and he spent the majority of the car ride chatting away to Freddie about his day as Jim drove them home, careful to keep themselves scarce from any prying eyes. When Khaleel eventually trailed off and turned his attention to the contents of his bookbag, Jim glanced at his husband in the passenger seat and murmured, ‘are you sure you’re okay having Kash over tonight?’

Freddie took a deep breath, staring out the window at the people passing by, not really caring if he was recognised. ‘I can hardly go about the rest of my life pretending she doesn’t exist.’

When this didn’t earn the chuckle he had anticipated, he sighed. ‘None of this is Kash's fault. I know she could have told me sooner about Mama and Papa calling social services, but what matters is that she did tell me. She chose me over them, which must have been the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I’ve already lost most of my family, I don’t need to lose anymore. It's time to make peace.’

Jim nodded wordlessly, reaching over and gently grasping Freddie’s hand. ‘I’m really proud of you, sweetheart.’

Freddie lifted the Irishman's hand to kiss his knuckles. ‘Thank God somebody is, darling.’

This was a perfect mix of sweet and angsty. Lol at the beginning I thought it'll be about our dads picking their baby up from school and being all cute and adorable, then BAM, came the angst. But I absolutely loved it!

Someone recently asked in the notes of one your drabbles about any lingering trauma that Khaleel feels at this point in the series. I think they've got their answer now. It's plausible really, for a child to experience the after-effects of being so harshly separated from his parents. I can only imagine how painful it must've been for the real Freddie to be isolated from his parents at such a young age. Poor baby.

I am glad Kash and Freddie are mending their relationship. I often get the feeling that Kash was never too involved in Freddie's life, but had Freddie survived his illness, it's possible that they may have grown closer. In the context of what has happened in this universe specifically, it'll be a while before they're completely comfortable with each other. But I am glad that Freddie is making an effort.

The end was so sweet, my heart. The perfect end to all the angst💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

[viviane-lefay]

Really!? Sure that this would be his reaction!?

(still lol @ the choice of pic, though)

Hmm, I don’t think he’d be as averse to it as is implied here - or at all, actually.

Judging from what the canonical material provides, amongst others, he actually happens to have some quite fatherly traits, and even takes pleasure associating himself with that role, as you can see here:

That, apparently, is also the consensus amongst the fandom, given there are memes like this one:

Even in the movie, he refers to his drones as “my babies”.

In this, he strongly reminds me of two other characters associated with science, invention & technology - i.e. Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars), and Aulë the Smith (Tolkien) - who are known not only for their brilliance, bordering on genius, and their strong innate creativity, but also, if not especially, for their associations with fatherhood (Aulë is known as the “Father of the Dwarves”, and Anakin … I don’t think this even needs a mention, does it!?) - again, a distinctive feature of said creative urge.

This seems to be quite a bit of a phenomenon with characters of this type, especially. Therefore, one could say, that, in terms of this role, they indeed do have a natural inclination and aptitude - and, I’d say, it definitely applies also for Robotnik. He certainly displays this very strongly with his machines so far.

Now, in another post of mine, where I looked a little closer into the role that these machines play for him, I came to the conclusion that they, amongst others, act as a surrogate for his actual, yet suppressed needs and desires.

(Please excuse the lengthiness of this part, but I felt it was really relevant for my argument. I tried to keep it as short as possible, though.)

It is so painfully obvious that this guy has some massive issues, stemming from past emotional neglect and negative experiences - so much, that he even rejects all things human altogether, along with his own humanity. His excessive idealization of and identification with technology, therefore, comes quite in handy as a defense mechanism in order to cope with said experiences.

Machines don’t ask much of you, they do what they are told, they are predictable, and they - above all - can’t suddenly abandon, betray, humiliate, and hurt you (which, I think, is the crux of the matter here).

Even though he might claim that his robots are everything to him, and that he doesn’t need anything and anyone else - his actions, however, prove otherwise (let alone his constant spiteful remarks on the matter, which just sound so damn bitter). We can recognize that quite clearly when he is forced into involuntary seclusion on that mushroom planet at the end.

[…] Essentially, all those objects and machines are but a substitutive gratification that he tries to use, but that never come remotely close to the real deal, let alone are ever able to replace it. In the end, he’s still a human being, along with all the human needs that go along with it - human contact and care included.

I am by no means suggesting that they do not matter (they do, being his creations, after all), but rather that they most definitely would take a back seat to a potential (human) child of his - especially if it is born to the woman that he loves - and, therefore, also happens to contain a part of her (which would enhance its position even further).

—

Side Note: Frankly, I absolutely can’t see this happen with any other woman, let alone him becoming physically intimate at all. If any of these - whom he doesn’t care about (no matter how pretty) - tried to do that with him, I bet all she would get from him is a frown, and being coolly, but politely sent out of the room. He just doesn’t seem the type to bother about anyone “less than” - or casual sex, for that matter.

—

And I think it is indeed the connection with this woman that is the crucial part here, given I see her as the single most important person for him - the love of his life & his undisputed No. 1 priority!

(which shouldn’t be all that surprising, given I think he has a similar attachment style & behaviour to his grandfather, as I discussed here)

In the light of this, even this potential child of theirs would “only” get to occupy second place - a very close one, but still a No. 2. But it’s the Morticia to his Gomez we’re talking about, so it’s fine, I guess. ;)

Even so, it still bests the machines with ease, who, in this scenario would get place 3.

Lastly, I want to highlight this little snippet of a quote from a Jim Carrey interview, which encapsulates quite nicely what I was getting at:

“… and all it really comes down to is, he wants to be special to somebody.”  [x]

The keyword here is “somebody” - which machines are not, obviously. They’re rather something, an object, which isn’t capable of emotions, or bonds based on love - and to whom a person can never be special in that particular manner.

That is indeed something truly, uniquely human, and, as such, solely reserved for those.

And what bond is more absolute, more exclusive (because no one else can take the place), and, thus, more special than that between a husband and his wife, or - to come back to the subject of this post - a parent and a child!?

So, yeah, the above bits of info about him in mind (aside from my personal interpretation), I think he’d totally dig the thought of being a dad - especially within the context of who the mother is - and I also think he’s one of the characters with the natural propensity for being quite good at it at that (something, not every fave of mine can claim *cough*Ozai*cough*).

To come back to the screenshot at the very top, I’ll concede that he might be a little shocked at first (this coming as a “bit” of a surprise), and, yes, I also think he’d be somewhat concerned (as the OP said), but, I guess, that would be more about his doubts regarding whether or not he’d be able to be a good parent, his own personal history and upbringing in mind. A little self-awareness & -criticism can’t hurt (especially with him), even if he turns out to be wrong about this particular aspect - but, as I said, he’ll do fine. ;)

Ok, so much on that subject - ‘twas fun!

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

Apocalypse After (Part 4)

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Summary: There was never any hope of saving Michael Langdon, never a chance to stop the apocalypse. The Antichrist was already too intertwined with his destiny when the reader met him all those years ago. But Mallory can go back and make things right and when the reader travels with her, an opportunity sparks to try and make things right after all.

Words: 4.6K

Warning: omg I don’t think we have any?!  

Tag List: @queenie435 @elimineetje @i-alyssa @clairvoyant-hs @trelaney @a-l-l-e-x-a-n-d-r-r-a @ahsloverrf @sodanova @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @langdonsfallen @queencocoakimmie @petersfern-fics @langdonsoceaneyes  @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sassylangdon @confettucini @Langdonalien @alexcornerblog @sevenwondr @sammythankyou @wroteclassicaly @Sloppy-Wrist  @sojournmichael  @langdonslove @whoviancumberbunny @the–queen-of-hell​

A/N: Part 4 is here! This chap is really exploring the beginnings of Michael and Y/N’s relationship, how they’re gonna fit together and how they adjust to each other. No romance yet though cause Michael is still a bubba at this point (think Return to Murder House). Also I am not a Banker and haven’t a clue about accounts lol so if I do slip-up let me know! 

We have to take the bus into the city. I don’t have a phone to call an Uber and Michael has no possessions whatsoever, all we have are the clothes on our backs and mine are on loan from Violet. I promised I’d buy the girl a whole room of new stuff if she let me hang onto her favourite jeans and got rid of the purple taffeta mess I’d arrived in.

        ‘What do we do first?’ Michael asks, swinging into a seat at the back of the bus. ’Are we gonna stay in a hotel?’

        What has Constance been teaching him?

        ‘This isn’t Home Alone.’ I tell him, taking the seat beside him. ’We need a house.’

        Michael frowns, ‘Do you have money?’

        ‘No.’

        I moved to Robichaux back in twenty fourteen, the Coven was my life right up until I met Michael and he became my new home. He cocks his lip at me, ‘Then how are we gonna live?’

        I return his scowl with one of my own, ‘Yee of little faith.’  

        He waits for me to elaborate and when I don’t reply, Michael takes up fiddling with his sleeves. I bat his hands away, ‘Don’t fiddle, it’s a bad habit.’

        ‘Why?’

        ‘It makes you look nervous. Shifty, like you have a reason to hide.’

        Michael holds off for five minutes before resuming the action. He stares out the window watching the world go by as he hides his hands in the too long sleeves. His expression is one of intrigue and I can’t help asking, ‘Have you ever been to Santa Monica?’

        ‘Not often.’ He reveals, ‘Only when I could fit in the stroller. Grandma would take me to the hairdressers with her and she’d let me choose a chocolate bar on the way home if I was good.’

        ‘That mustn’t have been very often.’ I joke, nudging his shoulder.

        Michael’s head whips round to me, ‘That’s not very nice.’ He scolds, ‘I can be good. I willbe good.’

        I didn’t mean for him to take it that way. Vivian’s words must have really hit a chord with him, Michael’s desperation to meet her approval shining in his eyes. He turns his body back to the window and gives me the cold shoulder, I catch him tugging at the sleeves of his jumper again. ‘Stop it.’ I say, ‘I’ve told you once.’

        ‘You’re not my Mom.’ He snaps back, drawing the interests of some of the passengers near us.

        ‘No, but I am the one in charge.’ I say, ‘Stop acting like a brat.’

        ‘I’m not-’

        ‘Michael…’ He harrumphs and throws himself back in his seat, he takes his time rolling his head in my direction till finally those blue eyes penetrate mine. I find myself distracted by the range of emotions swirling there, there’s an unbridled resentment there that unsettles me, growing more obvious during our battle of wills. I don’t think Michael’s met anyone he hasn’t been able to push over or who hasn’t just given up on him before. ‘It’s gonna be difficult at first.’ I say, ‘We don’t have a home, we don’t have money. We’re completely starting over, but it’s better than where we came from.’

        He listens intently and then nods in agreement, ‘When are you gonna tell me where you come from?’ That spark of genius flickers across his face again, ‘I know you aren’t an angel. If you were you wouldn’t talk back to me and you wouldn’t have shoved my Dad against a wall. But you’re something strong, I can feel it.’

        There’s always been a magnetism between us.

        ‘When we have a house I’ll tell you.’ I promise and this seems to satisfy Michael for now.

        ‘I know you’ve done a lot for me.’ He mumbles, glancing round the bus as we come to a stop. Michael watches an old couple at the front, the man’s arm wrapped round her shoulders. ‘I’m not trying to be ungrateful-’

        ‘It’s fine.’

        I calculate how many stops we have left till we reach our destination. Just two, thankfully, it’s the most awkward bus ride I’ve ever had. Michael’s shoulder brushes up against mine every time he fidgets, his focus still on the couple. I wish I had a phone, I’m gonna have to pick one up. But with what money I’m not sure, I have no idea what my savings were like back in 2014, did I even have any? I’m hoping my plan is going to work, but I know it’s risky.

Michael’s hand slips into mine, derailing my thoughts. His hand is warm and Michael’s fingers easily wrap round mine. He steals a peak at me, so quickly I almost don’t catch it. What do I do? Do I let him get close to me like this? He’s six years old, it’s just a comfort thing. But it doesn’t feel like that, not when Michael’s thumb glides over my skin.

        Our stop arrives before I’ve made a decision on what to do about Michael’s hand in mine. We get off in the middle of Santa Monica and I tug Michael through the streets, ‘What are we looking for?’ He calls, letting eyes roving everywhere. Michael takes in the high-rise buildings and palm-trees, the bright shop names and the milling beach-goers, locals and tourists.

        ‘A bank.’ I inform him, ‘I need to access our savings.’

        ‘Our savings?’ Michael repeats, ‘I have no money.’

        ‘Not exactly true.’

        We weave through the streets, even in the middle of the city we have a small glimpse of the sea straight ahead of us. Michael yanks me back from the cross-walk, ‘There?’ He points out the First Republic Bank and I grin at the sight of it.

I pull Michael onto the nearest bench, ‘Once we get inside you are going to have to behave, I don’t care about any excuses. If things don’t work out I’m gonna have to perform more magic.’ I tell him and Michael’s eyebrow go skyward in excitement, ‘This is crucial, Michael. You don’t do anything, even if things go horribly wrong. I will get us out of there.’

        ‘What could go wrong?’

        ‘Hopefully nothing.’ I say, ‘But we haven’t exactly had the best luck have we?’

        His eyes wander to the fish taco shop opposite, ‘Well now you’ve jinxed it.’

        ‘You wish to combine the accounts?’ The Teller eyes us down, ‘How old are you both?’

        Michael goes to answer but I beat him to it, ‘We’ve just graduated college.’ I reply, flashing my best smile.

        The man we’re speaking to doesn’t seem all that thrilled to be dealing with us mere kids. He stares Michael down, but to Michael’s credit he doesn’t show any weakness, ’You wish to withdraw money from the Harmon’s account based on the fact that you are their son?’

        ‘That’s right,’ Michael says.

        ‘But here’s where your little charade falls apart,’ The Teller smirks at us, as if we’ve fallen right into his claws. ‘Mr and Mrs Harmon died in twenty twelve and their son was stillborn, their benefactor claimed the account money years ago. So whoever you are, I need to ask you to leave before I call the police.’

        ‘Who is the benefactor?’ I ask.

        ‘Classified.’

        I hate that word, my eyes slipping over to Michael. He looks back at me as if he’s waiting for something, and I realise he wants my magic show to begin.

        ‘There were twins.’ I reply, ‘Two sons. Upon the death of the Harmons, Michael was raised by his God-Mother.’

        The Teller does not believe us, he addresses Michael. ‘Who is your Godmother? They may be the benefactor but I would need a name first.’

        I try to kick Michael under the table, but he babbles out the name anyway, ’Constance Langdon.’

        I have to work quickly.

        ‘Radicem suam voluntatem.’

        It’s a stronger Concilium spell than the one I used on Tate, I was taught this spell by Myrtle Snow herself. The Teller goes rigid, his expression slack and a bark of laughter escapes from Michael.

        ‘What did you do?’ He looks thrilled, waving a hand in front of the Teller and receiving no reaction.

        ‘Shut up,’ I hiss. This spell is all about eye contact and I cannot be distracted or the Teller could break free. ‘You will release the money from the Harmons account.’ I take out a piece of paper from my pocket and slide it across the table, ‘You will do so based on the wishes of Ben Harmon himself written by his hand in this last will and testament which overrides any previous false wills. Michael Langdon is the son of Ben and Vivian Harmon and he is their last living relative. All the money in their accounts goes to Michael.’  

        It isn’t exactly legitimate, I’m not a Banker and I haven’t the faintest idea if this is going to work. Ben had stopped us before we left the Murder House and handed over his will to me. The ghosts in the Murder House knew Michael was being raised by Constance, so Ben had created this will in the event of Michael’s reappearance to give him some extra help, despite Vivian’s wishes.

        ‘The money has been withdrawn.’ The Teller informs me, ‘You’re too late.’

        ‘Who withdrew it?’ I demand as the Teller’s will pushes against my magic, I hold him in place with my eyes. His eyes move from me to his computer screen and he starts typing. I move round to make sure he’s doing his job. The Harmon’s account opens and I let out a noise of disappointment. It’s more or less a big fat zero, but the account the money was transferred to is also there.

        ‘Constance.’ I growl, the bitch withdrew Michael’s owed money for herself. Probably the moment Ben Harmon died.

        ‘If she is the boy’s Godmother I’m sure the money went to college.’ The Teller assumes and I roll my eyes. We’ve lost out and our chances of securing any money for ourselves dies like the poor souls trapped in the Murder House.

Then there’s also the fact Michael said Constance’s name.

        The boy responsible for my problems stands and peers at the Teller, now blank once again. ‘He’s totally under your control.’ He marvels, ‘Can I do that?’

        It’s too much of a risk.

        I take out the bottle of water I bought back at the Fish Taco shop, open the lid and spit in it. I place it in the Teller’s hand, ‘Drink.’ He shudders, fighting the physical compulsion to follow my commands. He strains against me, the veins in his forehead becoming more and more visible as he battles for his freedom. Michael’s watching with his mouth hanging open, ‘What are you doing?’

        ‘Drink.’ I repeat and the Teller snaps, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a huge gulp. I pat him on the shoulder, ‘Only some memory loss, you’ll forget you ever saw us. Come on, Michael.’

        Michael frowns but he follows me out of the bank, ‘Did we get our money?’

        ‘No.’ I say, ‘Constance stole it all.’

        ‘So we go and use our magic to get it from her, or use magic to fix our accounts.’

        I snort, ‘I don’t have thatmuch power.’

        Michael observes me, ‘I think you’re capable of remarkable feats.’ His words have a honey to them that has me momentarily stumped. Michael offers me a little smile, ‘So are we gonna sleep outside?’

        ‘Well it didn’t help you told them about Constance,’ I remind him.

        ‘Why?’

        ‘What would you have done if she got a call from the bank saying Michael Langdon her ‘God-Son’ was trying to access the Harmon’s accounts. Constance thinks you’re dead.’

        Michael scowls, ‘Well I’m not. She left me to die.’

        I could strangle the boy. ‘I know,’ I say evenly. ‘But she would track you down and who knows what would happen then.’

        He doesn’t seem to care. Michael crosses his arms and his gaze falls on a MacDonalds up the road, ‘I’m hungry.’

        I definitely couldn’t be a mother.

        ‘Go and order something for us.’ I tell him, ‘There’s a call I need to make.’

        Michael scarpers off, abandoning me in the streets of Santa Monica.

I didn’t want to have to go there yet, but with the Harmon’s money gone and with none of my own I have only one option. I locate the nearest payphone and dial the number I know by heart and hold it up to my ear, waiting for someone to pick up.

        Cordelia was as much a mother to me as she was to all her girls. Her voice is tight and I can hear the emotion quavering as she spoke, ‘You’re alive?’

        ‘Yes.’ I keep my answer short, not knowing how she’s going to take my sudden re-appearance.

‘Where the hell have you been Y/N? You vanish right in the middle of class, Zoe’s not been right since you disappeared. It was like you were taken by something and no one could find you anywhere.’

        She won’t let me get a word in, so I wait for the Supreme to calm down. ‘I’m fine.’ I repeat, ‘I don’t know exactly what happened, maybe the spell I was doing went wrong.’ I’m getting very good at spinning these lies, ‘I need your help.’

        ‘You need to get yourself to New Orleans right now.’

        ‘I can’t.’ I tell her, ‘There’s things I need to take care of.’

        ‘What things?’ It touches me that Cordelia still cares about me so much. She should though, in this timeline I’ve only disappeared, there’s no bad blood between us yet, even if it did take all my pride to call the Coven. ‘What do you need?’

        ‘Money.’ I get to the point, ‘There’s something I’ve found that I’m investigating but I need to be able to afford accommodation. Can you work your magic and help me out?’

        Cordelia doesn’t acknowledge my pun, ‘Where are you?’

        ‘New York.’

        I’m not going to tell her where I really am, the last thing I need is Cordelia Goode turning up on my doorstep while I’m harbouring the ex-Antichrist.

        There’s a pause and I can hear Cordelia talking with someone else.‘I’m sending you the funds now. You should have everything you need.’

        ‘Thank you, Cordelia.’

        ‘On the basis that the moment you are finished you come straight home.’ She tells me, ‘You aren’t doing anything dangerous are you?’

        ‘No I’m not.’ I say, ‘It’s a personal matter. I’m sorry, I can’t say more.’

        ‘I mean it, Y/N. I will get the council involved if you don’t keep in contact with me.’

        She’s making me check in, Cordelia wants to keep tabs on me. I suppose she’s only trying to look out for me, ‘Alright.’ I agree, ‘Thank you for your help.’

        ‘Has it gone through?’

        The Coven’s ability to move huge sums of cash has always intrigued me. It’s so mafia how they earn all their money. I know most of its handed down through the generations and people pay good money for a little magical help. I’m sure Fiona had a good few million stored up when she died that Cordelia’s put to good use.

        ‘I’ll let you know when I have a phone.’

        ‘Jesus, Y/N.’I smile, knowing I must sound ridiculous. ‘Stay safe.’ She warns, ‘If I hear of anything I’m coming to get you.’

        Of course she will, or she’ll send one of her little minions. I hang up the call and head towards the MacDonalds, praying I won’t see Cordelia Goode any time soon.

        Purchasing a house was pretty simple, a quick lie about starting college combined with the amount of zeros recently added to my account made the process quick and easy. But Michael got his way and we did have to spend our first couple of nights together in a hotel.

        I was worried so many new experiences would overwhelm Michael, he’d lived such a sheltered life so far. He drank in the world around him like a man parched of water, his eyes roving everywhere pointing out the slightest and most minute of details. He saw the world through a magnifying glass, as if everything was heightened. Michael memorised the way to our room with absolute ease, navigating the corridors and which lift to take as if he worked there himself. He worked out how to fix the broken HDMI cable in our room in under an hour and took it upon himself to handle the management of moving of our new furniture into the house, even though I didn’t think he’d ever supervised anything in his life. He was still growing at an exponential rate, still advancing at genius level. I believe his exposure to such a vast amount of stimulus was encouraging his mental growth to catch up to his body, it was showing with his magic.

        ‘What have I told you about the bed?’ I grumble, putting down my bags on the desk.

        Michael’s bed thunders back to the floor, ‘You said to practice.’

        ‘I meant sending a fork whizzing through the air.’ I say, my eyes catching yet another room service tray sat on my bed, only a few crumbs left. ‘And these room service bills,’ I snatch the receipt off the tray, signed with Michael’s new loopy signature. ‘We aren’t made of money.’

‘But we are.’ He points out, ‘I did the accounts, Y/N.’ He become much more familiar with me and my name. Michael likes to eek it out, his mouth forming every vowel as if he’s experimenting to find which version suits him the most. He smiles when I don’t have another retort and watches as I take out my new laptop and start setting it up, ‘Do I get one?’

        ‘What would you do on it?’

        Michael shrugs, ‘Stuff.’

        ‘Exactly.’

        The laptop pings into life and Michael’s curiosity gets the better of him. He grabs the other bags and makes the short distance from his bed to mine, upending the bags and leting the contents tumble all over the bed. I do my best to ignore him as Michael inspects the new clothes I’ve bought him holding them against his body, ‘Try them on.’

        Michael peers over my shoulder, ‘Are they all for me?’

        ‘All but the dresses.’

        His arms wrap around me and squeeze tight, ‘Thank you.’ He gathers up an armful and heads straight to the bathroom.

        That was the first time Michael had hugged me or shown any kind of affection since the bus ride. I thought he had reigned himself in, but clearly not. The anti-virus is installing when Michael pops back out, dressed in a black shirt and black jeans. He looks at himself in the mirror, ‘It’s very …black.’

        ‘What’s wrong with black?’ I ask.

        ‘It’s just black.’ He states, ‘Boring.’

        ‘It suits you.’ I praise, fishing in one of the bags and producing a tub of hair cream. I climb off my bed and hand it to him, ‘Knock yourself out.’

        I catch the light dusting of blush on Michael’s cheeks as he takes the tub and inspects it, ‘What do I do with it?’

        ‘You use it to tame your hair.’

        ‘What’s wrong with my hair?’

        Maybe I am trying to dress him up too much, trying to shape Michael into the man I knew. ‘You’re right.’ I take the tub back off him, ‘Too soon. There’s nothing wrong with it, your hair is lovely as it is.’ I muss a little for emphasis and Michael pushes me away. I settle back on my bed, the anti-virus now finished. I jump straight onto Amazon and open a secondary tab for IKEA.

        Michael appears before me, his face just above my laptop. ‘Y/N?’ I meet his gaze. Michael’s eyes shine with apprehension, ‘Are you gonna send me to school? Like the other kids?’

        I hadn’t thought about that, though I doubt any other kids could already become an accountant. ‘No.’ Relief flickers across Michael’s face, ‘I think we should focus on your magic.’

        He nods his agreement, “Good. I wouldn’t know how to…’ A pang of sympathy runs through me and Michael catches it. ‘I’m not an imbecile.’ He says and I’m sure he got that word from Constance. ‘I can make friends. I can do school I just think-’

        ‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me.’

        Michael pauses mid-rant, not expecting my calm approach. I click open a word document, ‘Pass me my handbag?’ He retrieves it for me and I pull out the notebook where Michael’s account info is kept. ‘Update this for me, will you? All the receipts from today are in my purse.’

        He gets to work, grabbing the pencil and little notepad set out by the maid every day. We work in amicable silence, Michael jotting down his sums, eyebrows moving up and down as his brilliant mind calculates while I online shop.

        ‘When do you think Mom will accept me?’

        His question catches me off guard, ‘What?’

        ‘Vivian.’ Michael clarifies, ‘She said if I be good, if I get things under control then I can visit her.’ I wait for him to carry on, ‘Well I’ve been good for three days.’ Michael points out, ‘When do I know if I’ve been good enough?’

        He has a point.

        ‘I don’t know, babe.’ I reply, pushing the laptop off my lap to take a break. ‘Once we’re moved in things will be easier. We can set up some real lesson plans and get you started on controlling your powers.’

        ‘But I wanna see them.’ Michael insists, ‘Violet and Ben and Vivian and Jeffrey.’

        ‘Well maybe we can visit again soon.’ I offer, ‘It’ll be a process, Michael. You’ve got to give them time too.’

        Michael returns to his sums while I observe him. I have no denial about how monumental the task ahead of me is. To train Michael and hone his powers, teach him to control them and expand that patience into every other aspect of his life. Back at the Hawthorne Academy, when I first met Michael Langdon I saw how the Warlocks fast-tracked him along for their own purposes. It was never about Michael, just how my education with the Coven became less about my own personal growth and more about developing me as a tool, as a weapon they could use against him.

        Oh how it backfired, Michael and I choosing to stand by each other rather than becoming the enemies we were shaped to be.

        ‘Done.’ Michael announces showing me the math, ‘We’re still doing really good.’

        I take the notepad from him and start copying the info onto my word document, ‘You’re smart, you know.’

        He grins, ‘I do know.’

        ‘Arrogant too.’

        ‘I know.’

        He’s doing it to wind me up. In three days Michael has already perfected how to get under my skin, behaving more and more like my brother. That word sickens me a little, I don’t want my relationship with Michael to be familial, but how can it be anything else? In the past we looked out for each other, but Michael took the lead on that role. Now I’m his caregiver, his provider but I do not want to be his mother.

        I won’t be.

        Dinner ends up being room service again. I pointedly ignore Michael’s smirk all throughout our meal as he chomps down on fish and chips and a brownie. He can eat anything and still have those sharp cheekbones, it’s not fair. Our evenings have been spent watching crap hotel TV and experimenting with small-scale magic and tonight is no different. Michael has gotten into Hells Kitchen. I think he likes watching all the aspiring chefs panic under Gordon Ramsey’s wrath. He has his favourites, he cheers them on, hisses when they are sent home. Honestly, Michael is more interesting to watch than the show.

        Now I have my laptop I settle back into social media, making sure to keep myself private. I check on the Coven girls, Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia and try to find a trace of Mallory. Cordelia’s words still hang over my head and I send her a quick text knowing it’s better to keep her fed with updates than have her set one of the other witches on my tail. ‘Whatcha doing?’ Michael complains, ‘Are you even watching?’

        ‘Half-watching, babe.’ I reply, reading Cordelia’s quick-fire response.

        I’m distracted by Michael’s weight, nudging me over and climbing into bed with me. This is a new development, there’s always been an understanding that neither of us invades the other’s bed. It’s our only personal space, having to share a bathroom too. Michael’s still wearing his new clothes as he pulls the duvet up over us. He confiscates my laptop and puts it on the floor, ‘Watch.’

        ‘I am.’

        ‘Watch properly.’

        I give in, letting the show absorb me, but I just can’t give it my all when Michael’s so close, when his hand has slid to cup the side of my thigh. It’s a small action, but one that sends a thousand questions running through me. Is this appropriate? The age gap between us seems problematic, my twenty-one years seeming so uneven against his sixteen, or is it six?

        I scoot up making some space between us both. Michael doesn’t comment on it as I retrieve my phone and check for any other messages. Thankfully there’s nothing, my circle of friends isn’t exactly wide right now. ‘Moving tomorrow.’ I venture, ‘Excited.’

        Michael screws up his nose, ‘I like it here.’

        ‘But you’ll have your own room.’ I point out, ‘We won’t be on top of each other.’

        ‘You mean you can put some space between us.’

        I hope I’m not saying the wrong thing again, ’Sometimes that’s a good thing.’

        ‘I don’t mind it.’ He looks at me, ‘I’ve been alone a lot, it’s nice to have company.’

        He’s killing me. Michael’s eyes fall on my phone, he opens his hand and my phone flies into his open palm. He puts it down with my laptop, ‘I’m getting better.’

        He certainly is, already mastering Telekinesis. Has Michael retained the same capacity of power he had as the Antichrist? Is that possible?

        We start a game of making the notepad fly back and forth between us while the program finishes, when it does I sink down into bed, ‘Sleep.’

        Michael stares at me, ‘It’s nine.’

        ‘I’m tired.’ I say, turning on my side. ‘I’ve been out all day while you’ve been in here eating away our money.’

        ‘Funny.’ Michael’s voice drifts into my ear and when I look up he’s right above me. ‘I’m not going to sleep yet.’

        ‘I don’t know how you stay up so late.’

        Michael smirks, ‘I had a PS2 in my room. Grandma never cared how long I stayed up for as long as I wasn’t causing trouble.’

        I turn my light out and wait for Michael to move off my bed back to his own. His weight disappears and I listen to him padding around as I try to find sleep. The TV gets switched off, plunging the room into darkness and I wait to hear Michael sink onto his own bed, but it never comes. My duvet lifts and I feel Michael press himself up against me, ‘What are you doing?’

        ‘Getting comfortable.’ He answers, his nose pressing into my hair.

        ‘Michael, I don’t think this is very appropriate-’

        ‘You said you weren’t going to be my Mom.’ Michael says, ‘And I don’t want you to be.’

        What on earth does he mean by that?

        His arm slides around my waist, tugging me back into him. I can feel his soft cotton pyjamas brushing my ankles as his bare feet press into the back of my legs, stealing my heat. ‘I don’t know, Michael.’

        ‘Please.’ His voice is a flutter in my ear, ‘I just wanna be close.’

        I bite back the thought I nearly voice, that Michael always gets too hot in bed. But he’s not running as warm as he used to, Michael’s a normal temperature, still invitingly warm but not oppressive. I already know he’s going to win this battle, I don’t have the energy and part of me wants the contact as much as he does. I miss having Michael with me, but I’m scared that I’m giving in too easily. He’s already got me wrapped round his little finger with only a well placed pout and a smile.

        I can’t let this get any further, not until he’s older.

        I turn over and he smiles dopily at me, his hand still on my waist. I run my fingers through his hair watching how he basks in the attention. It takes a lot of willpower to extract myself from my bed and settle down in his own. Michael rolls over to look at me as I snuggle down into his pillows. His eyes are questions marks that quickly dissolve into hurt, the rejection pooling in his eyes. He turns over and pulls the duvet tight around him, refusing to say another word to me.

        It was cold, he didn’t deserve that after being so well behaved the past couple of days. The guilt bites at my chest, how could I do that to him? After all he’s been through? I try to find sleep, but an empty bed just isn’t the same. I miss his warmth, the feel of Michael’s arms around my body and I don’t sleep a wink, not with Michael crying into his pillow till the early hours of the morning.

Read Part 5 here

[alittleroseandhoneyblog-blog]

Boymom- It’s an experience not a description

Boy: (Boi)

1.       The wildest of all animal

2.       A noise with dirt on it

3.       Most precious to their mothers!

Mom: (Mam)

1.       Hero that does whatever it takes to get shit done

2.       Absolutely never wrong about anything. Ever!

“You’re crazy” – I have heard that about a dozen times leading up to this weekend but mostly from parents as they happily dropped their children off at what has turned out to be a “thing” two years in a row. But here is what I learned this week about being a little crazy – It makes for one hell of a time.

I’ve always had a thing with parties, as a teenager my birthday was a month long event that usually ended with some sort of party (which was the benefits of living in the country) my sweet 16 went down as one of the best parties of the year – and probably one of the best memories looking back and but now parties and holidays are no longer about me, which is fine (I guess) but they’ve become about everyone else because I am so busy putting it together- because Christmas Cheer and birthday parties would not exist without someone creating it and I can’t remember the last time “Santa” left a gift under the tree for me (which maybe puts me on the naughty list.) Either way, I’ve admitted it before I am guilty of being that mom who totally goes over board for Colton – his birthdays, Christmas, Easter – even Valentines day the kid expected something just because he exists but honestly, I obsess over it.  

We celebrated his birthday 4 times this year – I am not even joking and not because I found it necessary to eat that much pizza, cake and ice cream (although I will not complain) We come from a family who are all separated- This means 4 nannies, 3 grandpas, 2 great grandparents, 3 aunts, 4 uncles, 6 cousins and 21 kids from their class all within the last 14 days.…. I am going to let you all process that for a second because I am not sure I have even processed it- I had nightmares about never ending birthday parties last night lol.

But I have the secret for surviving being able to pull off the party of the year without going bat shit crazy….

are you ready for the secret?

Find a mama who is just as crazy as you are and suddenly your crazy won’t seem as crazy lol!

I just so happen to have found a mama that is not only pretty bad ass herself, just as obsessive over her kid and guess what- just as crazy, if not crazier then I am! lol But she has a son named Logan (who is also pretty bad ass) who just so happens to be best friends with Colton who just so happens to be born 5 days apart from on another and when they aren’t getting mad at one each other for butting in line they are completely inseparable-

Kayla and I along with the boys (and without-which usually includes sangria and apps lol) have made some pretty awesome memories from waterparks and splashpads to family zoo trips and demolition derbies but I have to admit my favourite have been the last 2 years where we have combined the boys birthday parties and not only cut the costs in half but realistically the work- last year we had a smaller party of about 12 kids (at my house) with a magician- the theory was that they would stay upstairs in the attic where all of the toys were (WRONG btw, lol) and any of the adults who were brave enough to stay could hang out in the kitchen and graze the abundance of food they Kayla and I seem to always make- Better to have more, right?

This year was a no brainer to do the party together again, so when the boys birthday started to creep up we started to explore our options, but as they get older birthday parties get really expensive, we looked into sky zone which is about $400 for just the venue alone and we still needed to feed the minions, not to mention it was capped at 8 kids. Kingpin was slightly cheaper but again limited to 8 kids and anyone additional was about $10 each and that left us at picking and choosing who the boys would want -so we thought about maybe hosting it again at my house? but last year I swore off multiple children running around playing tag in my house and If I am being honest I didn’t have it in me to host it, so Kayla suggested the indoor soccer field where it holds up to 30 people, was perfectly priced and didn’t leave us picking and choosing kids - not to mention it came with an hour of running around on the soccer field. But birthday parties at 7 are so different then birthday parties at 5- it used to be family and close friends and their kids because up until JR kindergarten they aren’t running in any circles but then all of a sudden they have little friends, and in our case- girlfriends – and with our kids, although they are in the same class they have different friends as well so when it came to who to Invite how could we not invite the entire class- yes, all 21 of them…and the theory behind that (which we should stop doing because we are NEVER right lol) was to invite everyone, thinking not everyone will come…. Absolutely not the case lol they all showed up and let me tell you this- I have a new found respect for their teacher…any teacher actually- and I thank you because when every single one of them were screaming at the top of their lungs around the party table and it was me against 21 wild lions, you’re clapping method saved me- and I had a brief moment of silence to say what I needed to say.. but it was brief…let’s not get excited here

Lol- they went back to their regularly schedule screaming directly after.  

What we learned from last year was that the children did not stay in the attic with all the toys and fun, they wanted to run, and jump on my bed or up and down the stairs and that putting the candy out at the beginning of the party was seriously not the brightest idea- and this year we used it to bribe the kids into a group photo! Lol  We thought this year that providing a massive soccer field was just a brilliant idea and for many reasons it was, but we did not account for the multiple soccer balls being kicked around or the 32 year old man (aka my husband) who forgot he was playing with a bunch of 7 year old’s and lets just say Colton got a soccer ball to the face! (way to go dad) lol but honestly with very limited injuries- we survived and without alcohol – not to say we didn’t drink after!

So yes, “Crazy” was warranted, but is it crazy to want to include every single child when kids these days already struggle to fit in- to teach them at 7 to be inclusive – and Kayla and I struggled with the girls vs boys thing because many of the girls have been in their “circle” for 3 years now and it was impossible to not include them even when both the boys were against the girls coming (for about 5 minutes) I said it at the beginning, being a boy mom is not a description-it’s an experience and you kind of just have to go with the flow- where as the girls were more easier to deal with and just wanted to run wild, one of the boys told me he touched poop….while his hands were behind his back…. I’m not even joking – and outside of laughing a little I simply asked him to wash his hands and moved on- because it’s an experience Lol

Many of the parents though once they realized Kayla and I had it completely under control did comment on how genius it was to combine the party and I couldn’t agree more- the best of both worlds in my eyes!

I have to say watching them play together almost as if it was just a regular gym class was pretty neat- even with the 2 hours full of “I’m thirsty, I’m Hungry, and I need to go to the bathroom” and Kayla tied the same little girls shoe about 12 times because apparently we don’t use Velcro anymore lol but honestly – It was complete organized chaos and was a gentle reminder on why I only have one child and not a small army! They were cute but I was happy when 2:30 rolled around and parents started showing up to claim their children! Lol

I love being able to do those things with Kayla, these two have become such a huge part of our lives since we all met 3 years ago and although the boys fight like brothers and sometimes the waters get a little high they have always worked through it and Matt has even accepted that he has 2 wives and 2 children lol but honestly we are so lucky to have them!

One thing we did learn from this year though is that with 21 children and in my case 4 nannies, 3 grandpas, 2 great grand parents, 3 aunts, 4 uncles, 6 cousins comes with a mountain full of presents that truly is the last thing this kid needs- I could probably open my own toy shop with the amount of unopened boxes of lego, robots, cars and so much more- and if we could have changed one thing it would have been instead of bringing a present to have each child bring 5 bucks that the kids could have donated or put together and done something for their class- something I think we will try next time, that is if the boys don’t outgrow double birthday parties!

6 was a real treat- here’s to 7 and whatever experience is next!  

[canaryatlaw]

Well, today was alright. Kinda crappy at some points, but not horrible. It all started of course with me wanting to be lazy, so when my alarm went off at 9:25 I half awake figured I could sleep till 10:10 if I ubered to the gyno instead of taking public transportation, so I set my alarm for 10:10- or at least I thought I did. Nope. I was still half asleep while setting it and accidentally set it for 11:10 instead. So it goes off then and I realize what happens, and that my gyno appointment is in 5 minutes. Fuck. So I call them and tell them I messed up my appointment and if they could get me in any other time today, and they said they could do 1 and I needed to get there so I said good I'll be there. The only issue was that I had a haircut appointment booked for 1, lol. So I got on the phone with ulta to try and reschedule that, but of course the lady that cuts my hair has a super busy schedule and I have a super busy schedule and it just wasn't gonna work, so the receptionist and I resolved she'd call me when she gets in and we'd figure it out. So I got ready and walked to the train, then once again managed to mess shit up. I looked up directions to the doctors office last night, I had been there before but I was trying a train route this time instead of a bus one. Only problem is I guess I looked at them too quickly and got off on totally the wrong stop, and instead of being a 10 minute walk from there to the doctor it was gonna be a 30 minute walk, and oh, my appointment was in 5 minutes (again). Fuck. It is really not my day with timing. So I hop on my Lyft app and get one pretty quickly, and only ended up being like 10 minutes left which was relieving. I had to wait a little bit, but the I got called back. Last time I was there for more birth control he made me promise I would come back for my annual in March cuz I was due for a Pap smear and everything, so here I was. Now, I'm sure I'm not alone in this feeling, but I do not like going to the gyno, even though I quite like my actual Doctor. He has a great bedside manner at least. I've had two Pap smears done before, and I remember them being painful, but HOLY SHIT it fucking hurt so bad I actually was saying ow out loud, something that I wasn't doing when they stuck a needle instead my forearm bone and were using it to shove my bones around in there. It was really, really bad. Thankfully it wasn't all that long, and from there it was just a quick pelvic exam and we were good. Ugh. Like I get why I have to go in, but it just sucks cuz like, I'm not having sex with anyone and the whole thing is just awkward. Oh well, at least it's done now. Set up the birth control to come through the mail system my insurance uses and I was good to go. The building is kind of a mish mosh of different things, there's doctors offices, apartments, coffee shops and even an ace hardware. I was kind of dawdling for a bit because I was looking for this chocolate I had tried from Walgreens a few weeks back and liked, and then was playing phone tag with my hair stylist haha by after a few times we got each other and tried every possible combination between our two schedules this week and it just could not work, and of course she's training all next week, so we ended up having to delay it until 2 weeks from now, which means my hair is gonna be even longer and unruly but I guess I'll just have to make do. Hopped on a bus back to school and went to the PAD office to try and get my crim pro reading done, which wasn't all that successful but I read the case briefs at least. I was nervous throughout class that she was gonna cold call me since I passed last week, but I don't think she actually cold called anyone today since she generally only does it if nobody volunteers, so that was good. I was probably tuned out for most of the class (kind of a habit at this point) and I commented thank you on everyone who wrote happy birthday to me on my Facebook wall, lol. We did get into an interesting convo about the adversarial-ness that should exist between two sides, should they be at each other's throats or is it better to be friends? So others were giving their opinion and I raise my hand and start saying how my dad knew a lawyer who filed an excessive force claim in every single case and it pissed off the ADA's so much and at the end of the day that's just gonna hurt your client if the other side has a grudge against you, and my prof was just like "finally someone said what I've been waiting for- it's not about how you feel, it's always about what's best for your client" so I felt a by accomplished with that. After class I went home and decided to turn on the flash, since I'm behind on all my superhero shows except legends this week. It was a decent episode, did feel like somewhat of a bottle episode to me, or at least a filler just to drag things out a bit before the epic final showdown. I did find the villain enticing though, and the actor played him to perfection. Still don't know how I feel about Cynthia and Cisco, or about how I feel about Cynthia's actions in this episode. Man, poor Joe. I felt so bad for him in this episode. His whole monologue talking about how he would stay up at night when she was a baby just to make sure she was still breathing because he was afraid if he wasn't there he'd stop- like, that hit me so hard because I can totally relate to that feeling with my sister. I've brought myself into full on hysterics on several occasions just on the thought that something might happen to her- I really cannot imagine what that must be like for him. So awful. Of course I think we'd have trouble giving much credit to anything the guy says, but that's a different story. The whole Julian/Caitlin plot was interesting, I'm glad they at least resolved some stuff between them. The whole surgery situation was all kinds of ridiculous, like I'm sorry that's just not physically possible haha not gonna happen. And then of course the ending scene, she was flat lining and I was like screaming at the tv JUST TAKE THE DAMN NECKLACE OFF ALREADY! I mean I knew she wasn't gonna be really dead, so they obviously had to fix that quickly which they did. Of course they were teasing killer frost all season and now it looks like we'll get her full blown. I'm like, excited to see the character but also sad for Caitlin because I love her character so much and I don't want this for her. Also, I've gotten so bad with tv character deaths. I'm literally at the point where I never believe they're happening. Like nope, they're not really dead, they'll be back, and the crazy part is most of the time I am right....(I maintain that I am 100% right about Snart on these grounds) but of course eventually there will be a real one and I'll be very pissed. While I was watching the flash my computer started to have some weird meltdown I couldn't figure out, so I got on the apple support website from my phone and was trying different stuff but nothing was working right, so I just gave up and made a Genius Bar appointment for after class on Friday since I'll be out and not have my laptop with me all day tomorrow, so it's not too bad of a waiting period, just annoying. But yeah, I'm not doing too great on the exhausted front this week, as you might've been able to tell by my morning actions described above, so in that note I am going to let my very eyelids close now and hopefully get some sleep (something short of 6 hours, unfortunately). Goodnight friends. Have a lovely rest of your week.