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daveywankenobie · 6 years ago

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There’s something about the tastes and sounds of a place (which you call home when you’re away from it) that can immediately pull you right back and remind you of all the things you’ve missed from there or that have come to form a part of who you are.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my history and wondering how best to explain ‘who is Dave’ to anyone that doesn’t yet know me.

Most of me is in the pages of this blog – but suggesting someone read it for this purpose (particularly when there’s nearly 700 posts of ‘me’ contained within this site) is not the same as personally leading someone through the highlights of events and decisions that led you to where you are now.

When you have a lot of well established friends who know you really well it can often have the unexpected side effect of making you feel rather lacking when it comes to explaining why you are who you are and where you come from.

Existing mates already know but explaining it all to someone new is complex – and it’s an entirely new skill to perfect.

In many ways this comes naturally. I am after all something of a chatterbox – but in other ways I find this quite hard to do – because there’s a lot about the new me that still doesn’t fully make sense or hasn’t ‘settled’.

In many ways I’m still discovering a new ‘self’ – although I’ve come to the conclusion recently that I’m not unique or special in this respect.

Everyone else is constantly learning who they are too. Just when we think we have a handle on who we are, life has a way of rocking your particular boat and making you rethink how you stay afloat.

So far I’ve found that explaining myself is actually (at least to begin with) a fairly generic box ticking exercise. For me at least it seems to keep returning to stringing songs or films together and then talking about the sense of place and memories that they bring back.

What was your favourite album – and where or who does it remind you of?

What movies do you love and where did you see them? Who were you with?

How did all this make you feel?

It seems that I’m more musical than I previously thought – or maybe I’ve just leaned into it as an interest to allow me to give things a sense of time or place. It’s amazing how these little tunes or iconic moments of celluloid become part of us and shape the story of ‘who we are’.

With them we write a conveniently packaged narrative of someone that’s ‘into electronic music’ or ‘a geeky sci-fi nerd’ (guilty on both charges) and our early choices in these areas form the basis of how we typically explain who we are to others.

Hopefully if we sling these classifications and likes out towards other people in the guise of interests they will resonate with them and we’ll uncover common ground. If they do relate to us then hopefully we will find a bond of shared experiences and eventually belonging to accompany it.

Sometimes though it’s not about getting to know someone new and connecting.

Sometimes sharing a memory is about reconnecting.

For my sister in law part of the story that explains her is Lontong Sayur.

I’d never heard of this before – but this warming Indonesian breakfast dish is apparently a big thing where she was born – and since it takes a long while to prepare it’s a food that tends to only get eaten on special occasions.

For one day only only a small artisan Indonesian coffee shop in the centre of Birmingham was serving it, and the number of available portions would be limited to thirty or so.

I’d been invited along by my brother to have a bite to eat and also indulge in the speciality coffee that they proudly roast themselves in the shop.

However – we’d need to get there early.

I didn’t mind. I’m usually up at the crack of dawn anyway.

I was on the way to the train station shortly after 8am, and before long at 9.30am I was standing outside of my destination – which was called Ngopi (link). This can be found half way down Dale End just opposite the NCP car park by Ikea in Birmingham city centre.

I used to spend a lot of time nearby in my youth.

The cafe is practically next door to a doorway that takes me back to a time and a place where I felt a part of my personality was formed. It’s definitely a little jigsaw piece of what made me… me.

Although it’s currently vacant it used to be a nightclub called ‘The Hummingbird‘ (link)

Here young Davey destroyed many many brain cells and also danced an awful lot whilst in the pursuit of both oblivion and the opposite sex.

I’m happy to say that I managed to successfully accomplish both objectives in that building and whilst many of the memories of my time there are unsurprisingly vague they are all universally cheerful ones.

Yesterday though I was just there for the coffee – and although it was rather tiny my Americano was undeniably lovely.

Unfortunately despite the early start – and being literally the first people through the door at opening time – we soon realised that the main attraction was still being prepared.

Lontong Sayur takes well over two hours to cook – and despite it usually being a breakfast treat we were informed by the lady on the till that it would not be served until midday.

So, since it would be rude to just sit doing nothing for two and a half hours we decided to have a light bite and come back a bit later for the main attraction.

On my brother’s advice (I have practically no experience of Indonesian food) I ordered Bakwan Bakst Malang as it seemed the most SW friendly item on the menu.

My sister in law chose the same, whilst my brother ordered the Chicken and Prawn Siomay Dimsum.

As a platter to share he suggested we also get a plate of Martabak (which came helpfully cut into little squares) and once it all arrived we began to tuck in.

I have to be honest – clear broth has always turned me off trying food like this – and on reflection I think I’ve been really missing out.

The beef in my dish was cooked to perfection and the flavours were delightfully delicate too! What’s more the Martabak we shared was flipping delicious and I think it was easily my favourite one of the three dishes.

Once we’d finished it was nearly 11am. The next course would be ready for another hour, so we decided to mooch.

Birmingham has a really nice Chinese quarter – and from an Indonesian perspective this area is basically Mana from Heaven. Every single unique item that you won’t find in a UK supermarket (vacuum packed chicken feet anyone?) can be found here, along with a selection of drinks that you don’t see anywhere else.

I was very tempted by a cider flavoured Picachu – but eventually decided against it because the vast majority of this can’s contents appeared to be corn syrup and sugar. I’m particularly wary of the former (the latter is no good either) and anyone that suffers from or has previously had diabetes should be too. It’s really not good for you (link).

(example extract from this article – ‘…countries where large amounts of HFCS are used have diabetes rates that are “20 per cent higher” than countries where HFCS is less common…’)

I put the pretty little Chinese can of evil gently back on the shelf, briefly examined a bag of chicken feet and then we headed back to Ngopi.

We were bang on time – and once she had her bowl of Lontong Sayur in front of her the broad smile on my sister in law’s face said it all. She had what she’d come for.

A taste of home.

A taste of her life as a child.

(from Wikipedia – link) In Indonesia, especially among Betawi people, lontong usually served as lontong sayur, pieces of lontong served in coconut milk soup with shredded chayote, tempeh, tofu, hard-boiled egg, sambal and kerupuk.[4] Lontong sayur is related and quite similar to Ketupat sayur and is a favourite breakfast menu next to bubur ayam and nasi uduk.

She wasn’t the only one smiling. The small coffee shop was filled with local Indonesians (many of whom looked like students) and for a brief moment we were surrounded by the sounds and people of her home.

The music playing, the cheerful people, the children running around, and the food (which every single one of them was eating gave a sense of place. The dish united all of the cultures in the room and brought everyone together with a sense of belonging.

Food is a fantastic way to bring others in to your world – and as we sat around the table she explained the dish whilst inviting us to taste the constituent parts – which were really really nice!

She looked happy and It was clear that the journey had been worth it.

As we left (thanking the staff for their cooking) each of us seemed toasty both inside and out. The food had been lovely – but the sense of belonging had warmed parts in a way that nothing else could.

As we parted company and they headed back to the train station I headed off on my own further into the city centre to explore, whist thinking about my own past.

Dale End (as rough as it’s become lately) had brought back a lot of memories – and the rest of Birmingham was doing the same.

After walking through the heaving German markets (which are less markets and more stand after stand encouraging people to buy huge amounts of alcohol in litre sized glasses followed by tons of fattening food) I found myself in another old haunt.

Nostalgia and Comics.

In here I am Batman and I used to be him every weekend without fail.

As much as some things change others (like my geekiness) remain just the same.

As I walked upstairs to look at the dusty back issues from yesteryear and see if there were any bargains I turned to look behind me.

Even though the downstairs area is far cleaner and more sanitised than I remember it (it’s all bobblehead figures and rack after rack of really expensive graphic novels now) the same movie posters that I’d seen when I first walked in are still on the back wall.

On the plus side there are way more women in the shop these days – and significantly less body odour – so there are at least two areas where definite progress has been made.

As I left (empty handed) and continued to wander through the city centre I soon found myself passing under a rather sad looking bridge.

I’m not sure why I stopped to look at this, but I did.

I was transfixed by its rusty rivets, peeling paintwork or its vaulted iron and brickwork ceilings – and for a moment I felt like I was just where I needed to be.

It’s not concrete. It’s not prefabricated. It was created with love, care and attention to detail, in an era where utilitarian things didn’t have to look bland or ugly.

They spoke to a sense that we can express ourselves even in the mundane, and in doing so this bridge still evokes a sense of place and history for me that a rebar infused flyover simply does not.

To me, at that moment in time, this tiny piece of urban decay felt like home.

It spoke to me of a youth that may have been wayward and lost in many respects – but in others it was creative, unfettered and hopeful.

This place is part of the story of me.

It’s my Lontong Sayur.

Davey

Lontong Sayur There's something about the tastes and sounds of a place (which you call home when you're away from it) that can immediately pull you right back and remind you of all the things you've missed from there or that have come to form a part of who you are.

#Diabetes #Health #Weight loss

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isoeyanto-blog · 6 years ago

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Story 2: Babi Kecap

I consider myself a foodie. I love to cook and eat, and I’ve had a lot of fine dining experiences and some of them are Michelin star restaurants. But, what stole my heart and taste buds the most is still my mom’s food <3. She cooks the best food in, perhaps the world. Her food makes me miss home so much because she always cooks with passion and her heart. Normally, when I wake up in a weekend morning, I go out from my room to the dining room with a happy face because there’s usually a dining table packed with her Indonesian breakfast food such as pecel, nasi goreng, or bakmi ayam. Another amazing thing I will always cherish about her is when I’m inside the car on my way home from school with my tummy grumbling and mouth salivating, I always couldn’t wait to reach home because she always had her delicious food waiting for me. Because she knew how hungry I can get after school. Just by imagining those moments makes me miss her and home so much. As a college student living far away from her makes it so hard for me to get those special treatments from her or anyone. From eating delicious food every dinner to surviving the week relying on instant noodles. That is why when she comes visit and does the things she usually does back home, are the things I cherish most.

The most iconic dish of hers for me is this braised pork belly with sweet soy sauce or babi kecap in Bahasa Indonesia that I’ve mentioned earlier in my first story. It’s one of the dishes from her that I crave most during my first year living in a dorm or even during my stay in Vancouver up until now. The pork is so tender, so flavorful and so scrumptious. It’s cooked with boiled eggs and potatoes and I usually pair it with a bowl of hot white steamed rice.

However, one day, an unordinary thing happened on an ordinary day. I went to an Indonesian church and they served babi kecap at the end of the service. I was so happy and thrilled, especially because I haven’t had a legit Indonesian food or food in general because of living in a dorm and I missed my mom’s babi kecap so much. Then when I took my first bite, my mom’s face and home instantly popped into my head. Though the babi kecap wasn’t as good as hers, it still made me feel at home and warm inside. It was just like eating babi kecap for dinner with my family that my mom cooked for us.

Luckily, when I moved out of dorm, I live in apartment with my own kitchen. My mom amazingly made me a recipe book of her dishes including the babi kecap dish. I’ve recreated it so many times ever since but still, it wasn’t as good as hers. It’s maybe because only her who could replicate the recipe:

BABI KECAP RECIPE:

500 gr Pork Belly

2 Cloves of Garlic

1 Shallot

2 tbsp Sweet Soy Sauce

1 tbsp Soy Sauce

5 cups of mom’s love

2 kgs of mom’s care

Though it is not as good as hers, cooking and eating that for myself still makes me feel her presence and love. I miss you mom!

-Inneke

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k-rypt0nian · 7 years ago

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to make a long story short, i went to bali during the holidays with my family. it was a 5 nights and 5 days stay; not a very long one, to be exact. ever since the beginning of 2017, i’ve been hinting my mom to schedule trips to beaches, preferably the beaches at oh i don’t know maybe BALI??? and so as you can see at the end of the year, my plan to incite my mother worked.

i traveled to bali on the 20th of december. it was a particularly sunny wednesday, despite the heavy rains that happened days before. the delay i experienced at the airport that day was the utmost unpleasant. my flight was scheduled to be at 3 p.m, but because the plane hasn’t arrived yet, it was delayed until 4.45 p.m. during the wait, i read a book my mom bought me that afternoon called the paper menagerie and other stories by ken liu (we’ll talk about this book on another post ok). i was so hooked on the book that i didn’t realize time passing by. the clock strikes the determined hour before i knew it, but strangely there were no announcements about boarding the plane. not long after that, i heard the loudspeaker stated that the plane was running late and therefore the airline had to delay the flight for another hour. right. more waiting. great.

by the time the plane was taking-off, i remember checking my phone and it was already 6 p.m. it took us about two hours to get to denpasar, and because of timezones, bali is one hour ahead of jakarta. as we arrive at the airport, i was really sleepy and was just ready to go to sleep under the warm covers of the hotel i was going to stay at. but alas, my brothers were hungry so we decided to get take-outs from burger king after we found the car we were renting. we stopped at a small local mart to buy snacks, instant noodle, sunblock, and other necessities we would need. my eldest and younger brother bought cheap sunglasses because they don’t have one. i took my time to take in the scenery of the night streets in bali. it kind of looks the same as jakarta, but has a different vibe that i am yet to understand.

we stayed at a place called tijili in seminyak. the streets in seminyak reminded me of an area called kemang in south jakarta. the two places resemble each other in a certain way. the closed small shops, dim lights, and night clubs all lined up together next to a small one-way road. it has its own atmosphere.

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i woke up the next morning and head to the cafe right next to the lobby to enjoy my breakfast. okay first of all THEY SERVE THE BEST OMELETTE EVER omg i am in love. what i did was basically putting everything i could on my plate but in an equally small amount so i could taste them all. my go-to drink was pineapple juice because it tastes SO GOOD wow.

after breakfast, my family and i readied ourselves because we were going to visit my aunt and her family at ubud raya resort and hotel. the trip was soooo long. it took us about two hours to get there by car. when we finally get there, i was already hungry again. thankfully my good uncle had bought us chicken and beef packaged rice (nasi bungkus for y’all indonesians) for lunch. those were also great 10/10 would definitely eat again. on our way back to seminyak, i was in a really bad mood because i wanted to go to the beach but the others thought that it was getting late and my mom suggested we could go to kuta beachwalk instead, and so we went there. the place was relatively big, but i could find bigger malls in jakarta.

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i spent my second morning in bali with fantastic breakfast at the hotel’s cafe again. the menu was different than the day before, which is nice, but i still ordered omelette because they’re really tasty. we planned to move to nusa dua that day, so we checked out on the afternoon and prepared for the road. while we were still in seminyak, i asked my mother if we could go to a certain clothing brand store because i wanted to buy a shirt from the place. according to google, the clothing brand has a small shop in seminyak; and so we head there without wasting any more time. i bought an iconic black shirt the clothing brand has which costed so much money. cries.

we stayed at tijili’s branch in nusa dua. the positive side of the place is that they have their own beach on the back side. i was so hyped the moment i knew there was a beach on plain sight. picture this, a beach i could go to whenever i want. the thought was very tantalizing for me at that time because my sole purpose was to come see and feel the ocean and the sand. after dropping my luggage, i head straight to the beach with one of my brother. y’all, i’m not exaggerating, i ran from my room with sandals because i was so excited only to be let down because the beach has small waves. sigh. i came to have a good time but i honestly feel so attacked. i mean, it was relaxing on its own way but this wasn’t the one i’ve been expecting. i imagined being splashed on the thighs for being too far away from the shore, the smell of salt water on my hair, and the strong winds. well, so much for my first beach after 5 years.

that evening, we went to the bali collection in nusa dua, some kind of outdoor mall. it was for eye-wash. you know, look-look. there was nothing much there but shops and restaurants. my mom ate at bebek bengil, while the rest of us ate at warung nasi ayam bu oki. you can see here which of us have higher taste.

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the breakfast at tijili nusa dua is as good as tijili seminyak. but this time, tijili nusa dua has its restaurant right next to the private beach. so while i eat fried rice with sausages and baked wedge potatoes, i could hear the splashing of water and feel the morning wind. it has a wonderful atmosphere. 10/10.

i went to the hotel’s swimming pool with two of my brothers after eating breakfast. i didn’t want to get soaked in water so i just sat on the edge of the pool. the sun was very unkind that afternoon, fortunately i had my sunglasses on and skin protected with sunblock.

we ate lunch at a restaurant called gula bali in kuta. the place was great, with traditional garden setting and fine balinese delicacies. we spent a relatively long amount of time there until we decided to go to agung bali, a well-known souvenir store. we bought stuffs that we might use as a memento, a reminder of what it felt like being in bali. we hurried because we planned on catching the sunset at petitenget beach that evening. the beach was extraordinary. honestly. this beach is the one i was expecting. the wind was strong, the current was dragging me further into the sea, and there were a lot of stray dogs there, which made me happier.

after our trip to a REAL beach, we went to get some refreshments at a french bakery-cafe called monsieur spoon. the place has a really captivating interior; fancy chairs, curtains, and mirrors adorn the inside of the cafe. it truly feels like you’re in a cafe in france. i ordered a cup of hot chocolate and nothing else because they ran out of croissants. sigh. sad.

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i spent that sunday morning going to church because my mom wanted me to accompany her so i did. but before that of course i ate breakfast first. the date was december the 24th, or the day before christmas. well i didn’t went to christmas eve service because the church turns out to be far from the place we were staying so we spent the night eating dinner at kuta beachwalk. before going to kuta beachwalk, we went to discovery mall to see the beach and just to look-look (lihat-lihat, hehe) again.

after dinner, i practically begged my mom to go to a souvenir shop because i haven’t bought anything for my friends and for me as a totem, and we were leaving bali the next day, so finally at 9.30pm we decided to go to krisna bali, a 24-hours souvenir shop. the place were still crowded during that hour. i hurried myself to buy a couple shorts, a t-shirt, some boxes of pie susu, and a few keychains. the rest of my family also bought stuffs from the place, but mostly just boxes of pie susu. we spent a lot of money on that.

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my last day on bali was relatively short. like usual, i ate breakfast on the cafe at about 8 in the morning, and i already packed my bags and all of the luggage. at about 9 we arrived at the airport and bought coffee and some refreshments because we nEED OUR ADRENALINE. i forgot our departure time, but i’m sure it was about 11am. i slept during the whole flight because your girl here is tired as heck. the landing was okay, i mean nothing bad happened, and we touchdown-ed at jakarta still intact on one piece.

the trip i had to bali was definitely great, although i didn’t really achieve the part of visiting beaches 24/7. during my trip, it rained a lot so i don’t actually have the chance to freely go anywhere i want. whilst in bali, there are a couple things you should look out for, such as to not ever step on the ceremonial offerings in the street. there are a lot of them, and please try to avoid walking on them as a mark of respect the deeply spiritual people in bali.

i kind of regret not going to traditional ceremonies or going to temples and such, because i think both of those things are what makes bali the way it is. i didn’t go to a lot amazing places that i should, and i hope that i could go there on my next journey. let me know if there are places i should stop by at bali. see you.

‡

I went to the beach!!! FINALLY to make a long story short, i went to bali during the holidays with my family. it was a 5 nights and 5 days stay; not a very long one, to be exact.

#bali #beach #daily life #rambles #rants #surf #thoughts #travel #travelling

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sheepydraws · 7 years ago

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I’ll Kick Your Ass! I’ll Kick My Fiancee’s Ass! I’ll Kick My Own Ass! (8/11)

Facebook Messenger, Group Chat

Ryoga: My phone’s out of commission for a few days, so don’t try to call or text.

Shampoo: Ha! I told you that case wasn’t indestructible

Ukyo: Did you drop it into a jet engine or something?

Ryoga: Worse. Akari found a tumblr with pictures of me dueling Ranma. For Akane.

Shampoo: Oh shit!!!

Ukyo: So she bashed your phone in?

Ryoga: Akari is a very gentle, creative, pissed off person. She wouldn’t do something like that.

Scrawled in every public restroom between Ryoga’s flat and Sheffield in permanent marker:

LOOKING TO GET DICKED DOWN.

MEN ONLY, THE BIGGER (PERVERTS) THE BETTER.

PLEASE CALL/TEXT/SEND NUDES TO: [Number Redacted]

NO NAMES, JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU’D DO TO ME

Ranma’s Diary

Of course I was going to drive up with Nabiki and Akane, but now dad expects me to stay with them, too. Something about our heater not working. The problem is lack of cash flow, not a busted valve, but the Tendos have guest rooms and tons of food, so I wasn’t going to complain.

‘cept the Tendos also have world war three going on right now, and I’d almost rather go home and try my luck with the space heater than listen to another meltdown.

Akane dropped the P-Bomb on her dad on our way home. She’s been flat and distant ever since she heard, and then she just blurts it out. Interrupts Nabiki and “Car Talk” mid-sentence. Nabiki’s mouth shut so fast it clicked, and Soun turned the radio off, even though he didn’t believe Akane till he saw the video.

We spent the next hour skidding along the freeway while Soun talked, mostly to himself, asking questions like, ‘How are we going to afford this?’ and ‘She doesn’t even date, how could this have happened?’, that no one could answer.

I felt pretty fucking awkward, listening to this guy I don’t really know monologue at his only daughter who wasn’t there, but Akane got all bright and shiny. She went from looking like a zombie to having apple cheeks, and smiling at me. Holding my hand and telling me that this was a family thing that I shouldn’t worry about—even though I might marry her? So it would be my family thing too? And her hands are really soft but they have really distinct calluses so they aren’t just floppy mush, but I didn’t want to think about that so we played hangman in her totally-not-a-diary till we used words that would make urban dictionary queasy and we had to stop.

It was interesting watching the reverse with Kasumi. One second she’s stirring away at a risotto for lunch, flushed with the steam, the next minute she’s snow pale with two red spots on her cheeks cause she’s still stirring the risotto.

First Soun was mad because of the money, but Kasumi claims she has a lot of money from her videos. Then he was mad because she doesn’t want to move out. She says it’s more sensible, and the baby can stay in her room for the first few years, and after that hopefully Nabiki will have moved out. I think Nabiki would have been pissed off that Kasumi was making decisions for her, if she hadn’t looked like she was considering climbing out the kitchen window to get away.

Now Soun is mad because Kasumi won’t tell him who the father is. She won’t even say if she did it artificially or not. Kasumi isn’t budging on this. Every time Soun brings it up her lips go thin and she burns whatever she’s cooking. Not that there isn’t plenty of pound cake, fudge, fried rice, casseroles, and whatever else Kasumi thinks up. Part of it is because of the holidays, but most of it is because it keeps her busy. I’m not complaining, but it’d be nice to eat in peace.

Facebook Messenger

Ukyo: So has your girlfriend murdered you yet?

Ryoga: Akari wouldn’t do that. She’s left rotten eggs on my doorstep, tried to send me a computer virus, and apparently gave every degenerate in England my phone number, but I don’t think she’s working up to murder.

Ukyo: I tried to warn you, man. Love makes you go bananas.

Ryoga: Uh-huh…

Ukyo: What?

Ryoga: Uh, I saw you kiss Shampoo.

Ukyo: She kissed me. She felt guilty for hiding things from me. It was a one time thing.

Ryoga: Right.

Ukyo: Look, have I noticed that Shampoo is pretty? Yes. Is she really funny and not afraid to laugh till she shoots soda out of her nose? Yes. Do I feel comfortable around her and like how it feels when I wake up in the middle of the night and can hear her breathing? Of course, I’m human. Have I pictured her wearing stockings and a garter belt? Maybe, but I’ve pictured you doing the same thing, so I’m going to put that down as normal human urge as well. You’re great, and so is Shampoo, but I’m not in love with either of you.

Ukyo: Ryoga? You there?

Ryoga: Sorry, I think someone just hurled a burned sponge cake at my window. I have to deal with this.

Ryoga: It was full of jam and cream.

Ryoga: Like how you’re full of shit.

Ukyo: If I like Shampoo, explain why wasn’t I upset when I heard she had kissed you.

Nabiki Tendo’s Bank Statement.

December 18th Withdrawal.

From: Savings

To: Patreon, Kasumi Tendo [Donated as: ANONYMOUS]

Amount: 5,137.56

Comment: N/A

Kodachi’s Journal:

I DON’T WANT TO WRITE A CHRISTMAS POEM, JESUS H CHRIST.

EVEN IF TATEWAKI IS MY BROTHER HE CAN’T JUST BARGE INTO MY ROOM RANTING ABOUT PHOTOS AND FAMILIAL LOVE AND LOW RISE JEANS (seriously why is he so obsessed with those? No one has been into low rise jeans since Britney Spears had kids.) AND WHEN I TELL HIM TO FUCK OFF BACK TO HIS ROOM HE SAYS I SHOULD WRITE A NICE POEM ABOUT SNOW AND ANGELS AND GOOD FOOD, “Like Keats” HE SAYS.

WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT KEATS? I’VE GOT A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND LIKE, I AM SO SICK OF HAVING SPRAINED ANKLES AND WRISTS AND BROKEN TOES. I LOVE GYMNASTICS, BUT I’M KIND OF SICK OF IT? LIKE, I SHOULD BE TRAVELING TO A MATCH RIGHT NOW, INSTEAD OF KEEPING MY LEG ELEVATED, BUT I’M HONESTLY SO SICK OF THIS SHIT I DON’T EVEN CARE. I REALLY LIKE MY TEAMMATES, BUT THE ACTUAL GYMNASTICS BIT?

FUCK, I USED TO SNEAK INTO THE GYM OR PRACTICE MOVES IN MY ROOM WHEN I WAS INJURED. I LOVED THE TWINGES OF PAIN. IT WAS EXHILARATING. Now it’s just like…Pain hurts.

AND SO DOES MY BROTHER, TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO WRITE WHILE HE GOES TO HIS ROOM TO JERK OFF TO PHOTOS OF GIRLS WITH DOLLAR BILLS IN THE THONGS STICKING OUT OF THEIR JEANS OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE DOES. I’LL WRITE A ODESSY OF SCORCHING HEAT AND DEMONS, FUCK YOU VERY MUCH.

Not Anal

Mousse doesn’t work for grandmother anymore. She fired him for trying to knife one of my friends. The new girl is pretty nice. Her name is Konatsu. She’s one of those people who catches on to things pretty quickly and probably is good at math or dancing or something, but is still a total idiot.

Example: I’m telling her about a soap opera she’s thinking about starting, and I say, “The sex scenes are really good, too. If that sweetens the pot for you.”

She stares at me blankly. “What?”

“They’re really passionate, you know? It doesn’t feel like they’re posing for the camera.”

“What does that mean?”

That was when I remembered that this girl is like sixteen doing part time, and maybe she honestly has no idea what I’m talking about. “A-a lot of the time it feels like they’re being directed, and it’s really obvious. Like you can kind of hear someone saying, ‘okay, now moan, and make sure to turn your head so you’re facing the camera’, you know?”

“What does ‘sweeten the pot’ mean. Is that a euphemism?”

See? Lights are on, but nobody’s home.

She’s still better than Mousse.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot, though. Now that he’s ignoring me I can think about him without getting a ‘speak of the devil’ feeling creeping up my back. I can even run through the good memories without worrying I’ll want to get back together with him.

Studying at his house, coming with him when he dog sat for his neighbor and then getting into their pool, challenging each other to speed eating contests with jello packs in the cafeteria. Mousse could be a lot of fun when we were bored and actively trying to come up with ways to get into trouble.

I like that I can think about the sex again, too. Mousse was never as pushy about sex as he was about us getting back together. He was kind of surprised the first time I said, in the same tone I said things like, ‘How many of these milk cartons do you think we could drink before someone yells at us?’, or, ‘no, that’s probably illegal’,

“Do you think we could get away with having sex?”

We planned it out like a jewel heist. He would have to come to my house since his bike was kept on his front porch and mine was always in our foyer. I’d make sure the kitchen window was unlocked so that grandma and mom wouldn’t wake up at the sound of the door opening. Then he’d have to creep up the stairs, skipping almost every other step to avoid creaking.

Honestly, I think I spent more time being excited about the smuggling a boy into my room thing than the actual losing my virginity bit. But that part was pretty nice.

If Mousse had wanted to move away from here, or just been okay when I said I wanted to, we might still be together. Or would it have been even messier because I would have fallen for Ukyo and Ryoga anyway? I keep thinking of dating Mousse as ‘simpler times’ but who am I kidding?

Forwarded To: Ranma Saotome From: Nancy Sulivan Junior

Private Materials

Certification of Report of Birth (of a United States Citizen)

Ayame Saotome

[Information Ranma already knew]

Father: Genma Saotome Mother: Nodoka Saotome (Née Kumon)

Nodoka Saotome’s Facebook Profile:

In her icon Nodoka is a handsome woman in her early forties with doe eyes that make her look younger than she is. They are Ranma’s eyes. His hair too, he thinks. Not that he can tell when his father has been bald for as long as he can remember.

Her banner photo is Japanese calligraphy, saying something about honor and passion. Her description says she works at a dojo, and her public albums show her working with children in oversized gi’s and heavy belts.

She looks happy.

Of course she does, it’s fucking facebook. No one posts sad shit on facebook. No one writes about leaving their husband and losing their child. They don’t write about how much they miss that kid every single day and pray that somehow they’ll find them again over those obnoxious tri-fade backgrounds.

Ranma would never admit that he was hoping for it.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Laura, things are such a mess. I’m glad you suggested I write it out. I couldn’t explain it over the phone, when all I wanted was to hear you joke about how your day went. (Sidenote: You should put that egg story in one of your videos. It was hilarious).

I wish I had been able to warn my family about this. Springing it on them three months in hasn’t been easy for them. I thought if I waited until I knew I was pregnant they would all be too excited to worry too much or try to talk me out of it. I thought pregnancy had this magical effect on people, where they suddenly became too happy to worry, but my family has far too much to be worried about.

Nabiki sent me her entire savings account. Every cent. She tried to do it anonymously through patreon, but I knew it was her. She was bragging about how much she had saved up last month, and I don’t believe some generous person just happened to drop that exact amount into my paypal. I sent it back to her, and I tried to explain that I have plenty, but she said, “Kasumi, there is a reason I have been on birth control since I was fourteen—Kids are the worst investment on the planet. They eat money, and you can’t expect any returns.”

I reminded her that she got on birth control because she spent months telling dad about how painful and irregular her cycle was until he just wanted her to shut up about her uterus. She said that was also part of it. I know she sounds heartless (she does try so hard to give off that impression) but she was trying to be kind, and realistic.

Akane is mostly confused. She keeps asking all these question about how it feels, and what I’m allowed to do or not. I’m not sure if she’s excited or concerned, or just curious. She was the one who told dad about it, and I’ll be honest, it was a bit of a relief to have it out. If only dad hadn’t absolutely lost it. He’s angry, and I’m angry at him for being angry, but I understand why he’s so upset.

“You know, adoption is still an option.”

“So, when did you actually know? Is it kicking?”

“I don’t understand Kasumi. How did this happen? You’re a smart girl.”

No one wants to talk about the baby, though.

Wait, no. I was making macaroons yesterday, and Ranma came in from his morning run and said, “I always liked flower names for girls.”

I had no idea what he was taking about for a minute, but it did get me to look up from my macaroon piping. “What?”

“Like Violet and Rose and Daisy. I always thought they were cute. For guys you’ve got to have something solid. Something you can build a house on, you know? Like Jordan.” He nodded once, as though it was decided, and popped a cookie into his mouth before his father burst into the kitchen. He and Ranma started talking about run times while I clutched my piping bag and tried not to cry. They say pregnancy is emotional, but I think they’re only referring to the one whose pregnant.

Anyway, thank you for listening, Laura. Hugs and kisses<3

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hey, hun, I finally had time to sit down and read your e-mail, and I’m sorry I can’t get down the coast again to be with you. I know I wouldn’t be much help, but you sound like what you need right now is a good hard squeeze and a friendly face.

Tho, I’ve got to say, maybe it would help if you told them how you did it? Maybe they wouldn’t be as neurotic if they weren’t imaging some clueless dude out there paying for his coffee at starbucks, with no idea he’s going to be a father.

You took charge of your live, hun, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Otherwise, I think what they need is time. Right now they’re probably all thinking that this is still reversible, you know? They’re in shock.

Hey, what if you took the train up to me? See NYC under the christmas lights? I’m kind of busy, but the city is full of stuff to do. You could relax a little, eat some takeout, maybe do your christmas shopping? We could do another collab! Maybe a QandA to post between Christmas and New Years?

Maybe the best thing for you all is a little space.

Ranma’s Diary:

I got up at two in the morning and went to piss. It wouldn’t be worth writing down if I hadn’t seen the kitchen light on and found Kasumi in there. She was pouring herself a glass of milk.

“Are you doing that pregnant lady thing where you drink three glasses of milk every day?” I asked.

She laughed in this super high pitched, chirpy way that creeped me the fuck out. “No, I just woke up craving it.” She rubbed her stomach. Or, her uterus, I guess. “I’m already having trouble getting comfortable lying down.”

“That sucks.” I said. “Do you think it would feel better if you got into your pajamas?”

Kasumi did that ‘five nights at snow white’s’ laugh again. “I totally forgot. It gets so cold in my room sometimes I don’t want to take my clothes off long enough to get changed.”

“Okay.” I said, because I didn’t really care, but at the same time I was getting really freaked out. I looked past Kasumi for a second, at the dining room, and I saw a rolling suitcase lying under the dining room table.

I could have asked, I should have, but Kasumi’s an adult, right? Also, she might have done that laugh thing again, and every time she did I felt like a demon was creeping up on me.

So I said good night and went back to bed

Now all anyone can talk about is the fact that Kasumi has disappeared, and I want to say something, but then I might have to talk about what happened next.

I went back upstairs

Forget it. I’m sure Kasumi’s safe, and everyone is all freaking out over nothing. So she wants to be alone for a while. Can you blame her?

Akane’s Diary

I feel like this is my fault somehow. I heard something weird the night she left, I know I did, but I ignored it.

And why did I ignore it?

I woke up in the middle of the night to Ranma on the stairs right outside my door. He was just standing there, one foot on the stairs, the other on the landing.

“Ranma?” I whispered.

He jumped. “Akane?”

“What are you doing?”

He came to stand in my doorway, a black silhouette against the yellow of the hall light. “I couldn’t remember where my gi was. I left it on the couch.”

I squinted at him, trying to see his expression. “Were you up?”

“No, I woke up.” He waved his hand and added, “It’s not important.”

His voice was kind of thick and raspy from sleep. It was nice. It reminded me of…

I’m such a fucking idiot.

Of course it was Ranma on Halloween. Guess what everyone, I’ve figured out the meaning of life! It is TO MAKE FUN OF ME.

I should have told him to go to bed and then tried to go back to sleep and forget about it. Sure, he was about the right height, and his voice sounded similar, and when I couldn’t see his face it seemed really obvious, but that didn’t mean he was Batman. Anyone can be short and do a decent batman impression.

“Could you come here?” I asked.

He hesitated, but then he came and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Closer.”

He slid down the side of the bed till our faces were just a couple of inches apart. From that close I could see him properly, so I closed my eyes and tried to pretend the air was crisp, and my armor was digging into my shoulders, and everything smelled like alcohol and cheap plastic.

“What is it?” Ranma whispered.

“What were you for Halloween this year?”

Utter silence.

I guess it was better than a lie.

“Wow.” I said, really stretching out the word, “Wuh-ow.” I started laughing at the way my own voice sounded. “Of course. I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Look, Akane, I didn’t even know it was you until-“ I knew what he was going to say. It all clicked inside my head. That was why he ran. Because why deal with things in a civilized way when you could just let fight or flight take over. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence.”

“I swear I wasn’t trying to-“

I heaved my pillow at him. “Get out!” I whisper yelled, because I didn’t want anyone finding him in my room. I went to shove him off my bed, but he dodged and stood up himself.

Something about not being able to make contact, not being able to feel a satisfying weight against my palms, made me even madder. I chased him out of my room saying, “You asshole, you fucking asshole!”

He tried to reason with me again at my door.

“This is why I didn’t say anything about it! I knew you would react like this.” His expression softened a little. “Maybe it’s a good thing? We had fun, right? If we get married-“

“We aren’t getting married.” I said, and to my horror my voice broke at the end of the sentence and I started crying. I’ve never cried like that before, sudden streaming tears. “I don’t care what our dads say, I make my own decisions. I am never going to marry you, Ranma.”

And then Ranma said the exact thing I didn’t want him to say.

“But if you’re trying to do the opposite of what they want, are you really making your own decision?”

I closed the door on him. I waited until I heard his footsteps on the stairs again, and then I slid to my knees, forehead pressed to the wood, and kept crying. I haven’t been this confused since I was eight years old and I started doing things wrong. When I started feeling strange in my own skin. It wasn’t me though, it wasn’t my fault. It was everyone else who was suddenly obsessed with boys and girls and their difference, and which side I was on.

At least then on some level the answer was easy. I mean, I know who I am. It was everyone else I had to convince.

All this stuff with Ranma makes me feel like no matter which way I go I’m always rubbed the wrong way. Like something slices into me, but it’s corkscrew shaped so no matter which way I turn it cuts me so half of my skin peels away. I want to be my own person, I want to decide who I marry, but now I feel like I want Ranma to be an option as well.

I was thinking about shit like this and trying to find a good metaphor when I heard something that I swear was the kitchen window opening and closing. I swear, there was the little squeal it has, and a thud as it shut again. I’m sure that was what it was.

But I was too busy thinking about myself and my unmasked man.

I’m such an idiot.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Akari, since you’ve blocked me on everything and refuse to talk to me in real life, I thought I might at least try to explain myself here.

I never cheated on you. I did duel a guy for a date with a girl, but it wasn’t just because I wanted to date the girl. It’s complicated, but the guy is a jerk and the girl thought the best way to get him to leave her alone would be if someone bested him in combat.

I didn’t even win.

I understand if you don’t want to be together anymore, but I want you to know that I never went out with Akane, or kissed her, or anything like that. I want you to know that I still have my honor.

All my love,

Ryoga.

P.S: At least stop indirectly attacking me? I have now seen enough dick pics and rotten eggs to last a life time.

Latest post from fuckboisgetmoney.tumblr.com

Big sis done got knocked up and run away, little sis’s engagement dangles by a thread, and the middle child is involved in a blackmail mexican stand off.

We’re a god damn soap opera.

#at least i like soap operas #no one’s getting laid tho

Kasumi Tendo’s instagram(@riceandsalt): A photo of one of the infamous Black Tap milkshakes, a cake batter milkshake with a frosting and sprinkle covered rim, garnished with a hefty slice of funfetti cake, whipped cream, and a cherry.

A photo of Laura wearing a blanket cape, posed dramatically in front of a window overlooking a snowy city.

A photo of Kasumi’s nails, freshly painted pink and white, with cutsey teddy bears on the thumb. The work is professional, and quite good at that.

A photo of Kasumi, standing sideways in front of a mirror, her sweater tucked into her bra so you can see the beginning of a baby bump. The skin on her stomach is pink in a line across the top where her lap top was just resting. Description: After #iluvuLaura and I posted the AMA I got a lot of questions asking for #babybump photos, so here’s a quick one❤️.

ILuvULaura’s Latest Video: Christmas QandA with Kasumi Tendo! [Published December 23rd]

The girls are sitting on the chairs in Luara’s kitchen, snow falling in the windows behind them. You can see the photos hanging from Laura’s fridge, her family back in Newport, her last dog, her graduation photo. On the bar just behind the two of them are mugs with tea for Laura and hot chocolate for Kasumi. They look relaxed, Kasumi leaning back in her chair, one hand resting on her stomach.

Laura: So, I know this says it’s a Christmas Q and A, but since Kasumi’s involved there were a lot of pregnancy questions.

Kasumi: And isn’t that was Christmas is all about? [laughter]

Laura: I’m just saying. Actually I want to get a couple of the most common pregnancy questions out of the way first.

Kasumi: Right, right. I think the three biggest ones were, ‘when are you due?’, ‘what will the name be?’ and… [She glances at Laura, a little uncomfortable with the next part]

Laura: Yeah, there were a TON of people asking about the father.

Kasumi. Yeah. Anyway, I’m due sometime in May, although I don’t put much stock in that. All three of us, my sisters and I, we were born wildly off the mark for the due date.

Laura: Really?

Kasumi: I was born almost a month early—well, earlier than the due date, I wasn’t actually premature. Nabiki was two weeks late, and the doctor who did Akane’s first ultrasound got everything fucked up and she was really small, so she was born two months before anyone expected her.

Laura: [Laughs] That’s so weird. I was right on time. Like, the exact day.

Kasumi: Your mom probably went to a better doctor than mine.

[They laugh and swap childhood anecdotes. It’s an all around good time for everyone but the Tendo family watching at home.]

Ranma’s Diary

I like being legal, but around Christmas I always miss being a kid. Being excited and selfish and doing all the cheesy traditions with a huge grin, and dreaming about the toys I would get—Christmas is the best when you’re a kid. I always got cool stuff, too. I could always count on my dad.

This year I couldn’t think of any shit I wanted. I asked dad for one of those fancy pedometers that tracks your heart rate and stuff, and some sweaters. The only thing I was excited about was whatever Kasumi was going to make for dinner, but she’s in New York.

Oh, yeah, turns out she was staying with a friend. Soun lost his shit. He straight up had her reported missing when she’d been gone twenty-four hours, and now that he knows where she is he’s on a train up there to drag her back.

It’s going to be nuts, but right now we’re waiting around and eating all the food Kasumi left. Dad’s at the gym. I think he’s pissed about something, but who cares. It gave me like five hours to stare at mom’s facebook page.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, man. I gotta fix things with Akane, and my mom, and Kasumi, and maybe all the Tendos, but I don’t even know where to start.

Okay, wait, I know what I want for Christmas. I want Soun and Kasumi to get back at like three am tonight and scream at each other in the living room, but then cry and make up. That’s what Ukyo and I did and

Last five posts from okinomiyakimeansiloveyou.tumblr.com:

5. Mean Girls gif set

4. I’m telling you, this whole ‘no romantic relationships thing is pretty sweet. Like, you know what dating leads to? ENGAGEMENT. Fuck. I know a guy who’s engaged, but not exactly. It’s a whole thing. Anyway, he calls me up on Christmas eve eve and says, “How do you apologize for kissing someone?” cause he masked man-ed HIS OWN FIANCE.

So, after I finished laughing, I said, “Dude, you’ve got two options. You can try to tell her she’s just THAT charismatic and you couldn’t help yourself,”

“She’ll fucking kill me,”

“Or you can just apologize. There’s nothing else for it. She wanted to kiss you right?”

“I guess. When she thought I wasn’t me.”

“Well, it’s fucked up, but honestly it’s so fucked up all you can say is sorry. You can’t talk your way out of this. Just apologize and let her go from there.”

LIKE I HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.

I mean, between this and my boy Ryoga having to deal with a semester of pent up anger from his ex, and my girl Shampoo crushing on him (or maybe just giving us all the runaround) I don’t care what people say. Not being in a relationship rocks. You don’t have to deal with any of this shit, and people still come to you for advice.

What? Yeah I’ve had three eggnogs. I’m drunk and sugar high and single and it is a good day to be alive.

3. A gif of Purity Ring lyrics overlayed on a background of patterns shifting color hypnotically.

2. Fucing rum man. Fucking A shit

1. But, like, what, if RyeRye and Shammy do gety together? Are they gonna fuck me out? I like those fuckers so much I don’t wanna be just some friend that intorduced them. Also, it’s totally not even right now. I have to kiss Rye Rye. Then it’s even,,,,right? Yeah. I wanna see how he compares. Like sHAMMY’S GOT THAT GOOD SHTI WHERE SHE LEANS IN AND HER BREASTS GET PRESSED UP AGAINST YOURS AND SHE SMEELLS LIKE A MEDAOW BUT RYRRYE’S GOT THAT SQUARE JAW whoops that was capslock, and he smells like fresh deoderant and liene annd I mean I just gotta check for sciense. Yes. Science. Goooood.

Facebook Messenger

Shampoo: MARRY CHRISTMAS! 🎊

Shampoo: Btw, did you get a weird drunk dial from Ukyo at like two am this morning?

Ryoga: It was seven over here.

Shampoo: So you were on the other line! I thought I could hear you, but Ukyo kept talking over you.

Ryoga: Did you understand anything they were saying?

Shampoo: Not really. Something about love. I think it was the love doesn’t exist spiel.

Ryoga: I thought that might be it. It sounded sort of like she was telling us not to get together????

Shampoo: That’s so weird. Why would he think of that?

Ryoga: I don’t know.

Ryoga: We did kiss.

Shampoo: But you had a girlfriend then. And then I kissed Ukyo, so it’s all even.

Ryoga: Actually, I haven’t kissed Ukyo.

Shampoo: Do you want to?

Ryoga: Maybe then she would feel better? We’d all be on a level playing field.

Shampoo: I feel like this is sliding into threeway territory.

Ryoga: yeah

From: [email protected]

To: KasumiTendo96@gmail

Kasumi, are you alright? You seemed okay when you left but I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Your dad was really pissed.

Merry Chirstmas, by the way. I hope you’re happy and with loved ones.

From: Kasumitendo96@gmail

To: iluvulaura@hotmail

Oh lord. Laura, are you sitting down?

First of all, I’m fine. Yes, dad was pissed, but he had the right. If my kid did something like this I’d be worried sick too.

We cried a lot on the train ride home. People were looking at us weird and avoiding us as they walked down the aisle. We were both crying so hard, and the train was barely heated so our noses were just pouring snot. Basically everyone is scared and worried and we’re all really confused right now.

Honestly? I thought this was going to be easier. At least the pregnancy bit! But I think it would be like this even if I was married and everything was a little more conventional. There would still be crazy questions and fears, and late night crying jags. Only things might have gotten off on a slightly better foot.

But it’s good to be home. I think everyone has at least accepted what is happening. I’m making a belated Christmas dinner with all the favorites, which won’t be ready till tomorrow, but just the thought has perked everyone up. Akane is trying to help, and is telling me about all the crazy pregnancy stuff she’s learned on the internet. I’m telling her what’s totally fake and what is mostly fake.

Nabiki is talking about preschools, and how the really good ones require you to get on a waiting list NOW, and it turns out that while everyone else was panicking over where I was, she was buying a crib and setting it up in my room.

Dad’s been telling stories about when we were all babies. Some of them are funny, and some are mildly terrifying, especially the ones involving the dojo. Dad noticed that I looked really worried and he said, “You really can drop a kid on their head a few times, and they’ll still turn out just fine. Don’t worry if you fuck up a little.” which didn’t exactly make me feel better,

but I didn’t feel worse either, so…

Oh, and Ranma.

Hoo-boy. This is the part I thought you might want to sit down for.

When I got home Ranma was waiting for me in my room. He was sitting on my bed with his laptop, but he was cross legged with his eyes closed like he’d been meditating or something. He scared me out of my skin.

“Kasumi,” He said, like he hadn’t just ambushed me in my own room. “I have to ask you something.”

I closed my bedroom door and put my bag down. “What is it?”

“What would you think if your kid was trans? And your sister wasn’t.” He added.

I sat down on my bed. “I don’t know if I can really answer that. I remember how I felt when Akane came out.” It was sometime before her senior year. It was ridiculously hot in the kitchen. I was making lemon bars for something I don’t even remember-lemon bars, the easiest things in the world!-and I was sweating bullets, and Akane walked up behind me and started lecturing me on the history of the trans movement in America and the fluidity of gender. I half thought she had a school project on it until she got to the point. “I was surprised mostly. It was in the news a bit more then, but you know how it is. You think of it as something that happens to other people’s brothers.”

Ranma nodded, but he had this flat look on his face that said I hadn’t really answered his question. “Right, but would you have felt different if it had been your kid?”

I tried to think about it, I really did, but I just can’t say. “I might be a little more worried about them. I mean, Akane was almost eighteen. I knew it was her decision to make. I think if my child said that their gender was different than expected I might be more concerned about how that would effect them, but I want them to be happy. If that’s a part of their happiness I would have to support them.”

Ranma seemed a little more satisfied after that, but then he said, “Now pretend you’re like twenty years older and come from a more traditional family. What would you think of it then?”

At that point I threw my hands up and told him I couldn’t answer for anyone else. That was when he’d told me he’d tracked down his mother (I mean, it wasn’t hard. She lives a few hours from Ranma’s school in the opposite direction from our town and she has a facebook account) and he wanted to talk to her. Only he can’t because she thinks she has and daughter out there somewhere and, well…

Oh, Laura I can’t talk about it too much, but he got all choked up and then wouldn’t cry, which was worse. Listening to him trying to explain it all when his throat was closed off and he was shaking…I held him for a while but I don’t know what to do. If my kid is trans or gay or queer it won’t matter as much because there’s Akane. But for Ranma…He doesn’t really know his mother’s family, so he has no idea how they would react.

Although…Ah, I don’t want to write this, it’s so indulgent, but it made my heart so warm.

I had to stop hugging Ranma because it was a little awkward, us both sitting and his legs pulled up like they were, and then he said, “You’re going to make a good mother.”

I said, “All I did was listen and give you a hug. I don’t think that’s all there is to mothering.”

“That’s all I want my mother to do when I see her.”

I worry about Ranma, but then again I don’t. I think even if his mother jilts him, he’s strong enough to handle it. And he knows he has somewhere to go if he isn’t.

Kodachi’s Journal

Freezing temperatures

Snow long since tracked away

The buzzing of new years clackers fades.

Boredom hangs low and grey as the sun

You can’t look at your brother without fighting.

Oh Ranma.

Either you have taken me for a ride

Or you owe me one.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Seeing as we seem to have reached MAD, may I inquire as to the health of your pregnant friend?

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

You are lucky I’m bored, and shocked, and get to rub your face in the fact that the courtesan and the accountant were banging.

Yeah, she’s all better after a relaxing trip to New York.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

New York? Wouldn’t being in a city that big be somewhat dangerous to someone in her condition?

Also, it’s a soap opera. I’m sure there will be another reversal of fortune eventually.

From: TKuno

To:NabikiTendo

She’s pregnant, not a blown glass ornament. Women have been having babies since forever. We’re pretty good at it.

Also, you are such a reacher. Did you see the sex scene between C and A? Now that was chemistry.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Women have also being dying from complications since forever. I only wish you understand that I am sincere in my desire to for your friend to be healthy. I think that baring children is one of the noblest acts of mankind.

Also, I will not debate the merits of various sex scenes with you.

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

You got anything better to do?

Facebook Messenger

Shampoo: We should stop talking about this.

Ryoga: If you want to.

Shampoo: I don’t know. It feels inappropriate.

Ryoga: It’s not like we work together or anything.

Shampoo: I know.

Shampoo: But why does Ukyo have to be involved?

Ryoga: They don’t. This doesn’t have to be anything. We’re just talking.

Shampoo: Talking leads to doing and doing leads to pregnancy.

Ryoga: I think I know how to put a condom on.

Shampoo: You’ve had sex before?

Ryoga: No. Not sex-sex. But the condom bit is easy.

Shampoo: You and Akari never fucked??? And she’s still this mad?

Ryoga: She’s a bit less mad now. We’re not talking, but she’s stopped actively trying to fuck me up.

Ryoga: Also, does having sex make a difference?

Shampoo: I think so. Stuff changes. After Mousse and I did it we got closer. And we thought we were really slick too, never talking about it in public, just doing long lingering glances. And touching more. We were more comfortable with that.

Ryoga: Why would that make it worse when you broke up?

Shampoo: We did The Thing. I think we both sort of felt like that really meant something. Like maybe we’d last.

Ryoga: But that’s what high schoolers think. We’re in college now.

Shampoo: So why didn’t you and Akari do it?

Ryoga: We were always going to do it. We were always planning on it. We were always going to get there…

Shampoo: Buuuuuut?

Ryoga: It felt like something we couldn’t take back.

Shampoo: Yeah, like after that you have to be together forever.

Shampoo: This is why we should stop talking about this. And never mention it in front of Ukyo. Ukyo doesn’t believe in forever, and I don’t want to feel like we’re using her.

Ryoga: But I don’t want to use her. I want…

Shampoo: yeah

Akane’s Diary

POSSIBLE WAYS I COULD GET OUT OF SPENDING TWO HOURS IN A CAR WITH RANMA:

1. Fake illness too severe for me to make the drive. (That would be pretty hard to fake without getting sent to the doctor. It would mean dad would have to make the drive twice, which he would be kind of hard on him. If anyone found out I was faking I might have to explain. Kasumi would take care of me and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.

2. Injure Ranma so that he is at the hospital when we leave. (If I suddenly broke Ranma’s leg I would probably wind up in therapy. Also, the bag of dicks probably deserves an education. Or something)

3. Call a cab and leave early in the morning. (Do you know how much a two-hour cab ride would cost?! Dad would murder me, but not before making me explain why I did it)

4. Steal our car early in the morning. (See above.)

Maybe I’ll just stay up really late the night before and sleep in the car. Being unconscious is kind of like not being there, right?

#ranma 1/2 #fanfiction #personal #text

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