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gabenathreversebang · 3 years

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GabeNath Reverse Bang 2020 Masterpost

Lady in Blue

When Gabriel akumatizes Audrey again, it goes awry and backfires on him. When he, Ladybug and Chat Noir are compromised, Nathalie decides it’s time for her to take matters into her own hands.

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Changing Hearts and Changing Tides

The Agreste boys and their plus one, Nathalie, have decided to spend the week in a cabin by the coast. While Gabriel tries to mend his fractured relationship with Adrien, Nathalie is more or less there to keep the peace, but she soon finds herself out of her depth. With emotions shifting as frequently as the tide can the trio band together and take strides towards the future, or will they be swept out to sea and left hanging?

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Your Sword and Shield

The last time the Graham de Vanilys showed up to the Agreste mansion, they proved they are not to be trusted. Nathalie should have known Amelie would go to treacherous lengths to get under her skin. After a tense confrontation and the shocking reveal of a new villain, Nathalie must step into a new role to protect the one she loves.

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A Moment of Reflection

After a particularly upsetting defeat, Gabriel is feeling like it might be time to throw in the butterfly brooch and move on. Nathalie tries to encourage him to continue but even she has some reservations about the idea. The two have a heart to heart over some brandy and learn things about each other.

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well, of course i’ve tried lavender

K O E L N @archekoeln you think, i didn’t know mayura was the type to resort to something like this? but you’re wrong, because now you’re being carried like a sack of potatoes above paris and, 3/11

K O E L N @archekoeln well, the view’s nice and all but you’re also in the arms of a villain??? 4/11

K O E L N @archekoeln you also think, how is she so strong??? because you know you aren’t as light as a feather (haha i’m funny) and her arms are skinny af, but you know, magic i guess 5/11

An online thread about Mayura sparks something in Gabriel. And as her boss (and friend, and villainous partner, and her something), isn’t it his job to… to do what exactly? Well, even he doesn’t know.

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Not All Heroes Wear Capes

Superheroes, in daily life, usually remained hidden. Men and women, bestowed with god-like powers, living among those whose only powers remained in their knowledge and talents. One of these heroes was Mayura, a peacock-themed superheroine with the power to create new life. As more laborers were going on strike, Mayura’s efforts to keep the economy from deflating were more crucial than ever. Because of her, livelihoods were kept intact for the destitute. For the corporate overlords, however, she was the bane of their luxurious existence. But what does this mean to Gabriel Agreste?

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Broken Arrow

Ordinary innkeeper Nathalie is plagued with visions of a captive Gabriel, begging for help. She sets out to recruit his son Adrien, the Demigod of Love, to aid her in freeing Gabriel from Emilie, the goddess of beauty. But Nathalie doesn’t know the secret that Adrien keeps from her that may tear them all apart.

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Gabriel’s Inferno

Nothing seemed to predict how it all would end, and yet it had to have been obvious. It had been weeks since Mayura’s last appearance and he didn’t even let her go out to fight in person, but a broken miraculous doesn’t get carried away by precautions once it’s activated. With Nathalie balancing between life and death, Gabriel will have the opportunity to fix things or lose himself forever in a hellish battle that will overcome all nightmares.

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If I Could Turn Back Time

Gabriel and Nathalie obtain the rabbit miraculous and travel into the paths of time as Velveteen and Mayura, with the goal of preventing the chain of events that would lead to Emilie’s death. But on their way to Tibet, they encounter surprising visions of possible futures that leave them questioning what is possible and what they really want.

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This is Hallowe’en

With All Hallow’s Eve hanging over their heads, the Agreste household gets wrapped into celebrating Samhain. With Gabriel and Adrien following Nathalie’s knowledgeable path, they can not fail, probably. This moderately functional family will honor Emilie Agreste in the best ways they can.

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Malleable Fates

A red thread starts materializing around Gabriel’s finger nearly two decades after he’s already found his soulmate. As he and Nathalie devise a faultless plan to finally win Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous and bring back his wife, Gabriel fights the onslaught of confusing feelings brought about the mysterious reappearance of his soulmate string - including the sneaking suspicion that his soulmate maybe isn’t who she used to be.

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The Splintered Soul Staring Back At Me

In the aftermath of the battle and a brief hospital stay, Nathalie is safe at home. Her recovery has been a bit stagnant, but she’s been granted leave from work and the miraculous is finally fixed. Things can only go up from here, right?

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With the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wing

It only took one little thing, the barest of moments, for Duusu to feel their love, and decide that they had to do something about it. Which was how Duusu ended up roping Nooroo into trying everything under the sun to match up their two stubborn holders.

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The Orders He Defies

After her husband’s death, Nathalie Sancoeur fell into deep despair. Determined to bring him back, she set her goal on obtaining the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous, using the power of her own one. All her attempts for the last year, however, were futile. Should she remain careful? Or should she let it all burn, as her assistant Gabriel suggests she should? And is the goal even worth its price?

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Royal Pain

Nathalie liked to think that she would make a pretty good king. If she had been born as the opposite sex, anyways. But as the facts were, Princess Nathalie Sancoeur had a duty thrust upon her that she would rather have not, all things considered: to be married to a foreign prince, in order to bring good fortune to her family and kingdom, and bolster their strength should the rapidly-cooling relations with one of the neighboring countries turn into a full-blown war. It was enough to make her gag every time she thought of it.

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Dancing on Broken Glass

It was Lila that almost reduced Paris to rubble.It was that conflict that caused an irreversible change to two miraculous holders.It was that change that brought them together.

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Anagnorisis

«Define Hubris»

Gabriel never considered how much a Deus Ex Machina would cost.

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Worth

It’s been seventeen years since Nathalie and Gabriel sat in the cramped studio working hard to get the brand off the ground, and now he can’t help but reflect on those long-forgotten years.

Before Emilie. Before Adrien. Before the money and fame.

As he looks at her across his desk… he wonders if it was all worth it.

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A Witch’s Desire

Gabriel Agreste was a peculiar man, who was known around town both as a famous fashion designer and a powerful witch who was able to read and control minds, though he never used that second power unless there was a real emergency. Heck, he barely even used the first. But after losing his wife, Gabriel becomes desperate to do anything he can to bring her back, even that means using his powers for evil, or tracking down a mysterious powerful witch who had disappeared many years ago, with the power to bring the dead back to life.

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Not a Minute of Peace

Even though the akuma wants to shackle them, the Collector and Catalyst have more freedom than Gabriel and Nathalie ever had. They may be criminals turned into prey, but they enjoy the hunt. There is only one thing they are running from.

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Revision

Nathalie made the wish.

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The Woman With The Golden Feathers

The annual Bourgeois masquerade comes at the right time for Gabriel. In a moment of personal uncertainty after his discreet divorce, he will find the possible answer in a mysterious lady with golden feathers.

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Time and Time Again

The stress of being a young designer trying to make it in the fashion industry is taking its toll, and Gabriel’s and Nathalie’s marriage is slowly unraveling.

They’ve stood the tests of life since their first year of university, but when everything comes crashing down, Gabriel finds himself stuck reliving the day it happened. Failing and falling, time and time again with every passing ‘day’. Why is he here? How can he stop it? The answer lies in a choice as to what matters more: his career or the woman who has stood by him through it all.

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Clarity

A year after Hawkmoth’s surrender, Gabriel asks Nathalie to join him to gaze at the stars. While she waits for him, she contemplates the empty space left by the removal of the portrait from the foyer hall. Growth ensues for them both as they learn to just be by each other’s side.

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C’est la Vie; C’est le Ballet

After the death of his wife, upstart choreographer Gabriel Agreste is looking for a new star for his ballet, Miraculous. Hard to please and willing to do whatever it takes for the sake of the show, none of the auditionees fit his artistic vision…

…except Nathalie, a former prima ballerina turned ballet instructor. She’s stoic and very dedicated to her craft, but there’s a reason she stopped performing four years ago and it has dangerous potential.

Through the trials and triumphs and betrayals that run hand in hand with the world of ballet, Gabriel and Nathalie begin to find something more in each other’s company, and perhaps the seeds of new beginnings.

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I’m Praying (There’s Saving)

It was to be Gabriel’s first party on Olympus, but little did he know it would also be the last. Not only for him, but for everyone. In the blink of an eye everything changed, sending the god of nature and his newborn son to take refuge with the Queen of the Dead. They thought they were safe, but even the depths of the underworld couldn’t escape the King’s wrath forever.

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#gabenath reverse bang #gabenath events #gabenath #miraculous ladybug #reverse bang #gabenath reverse bang 2020 #masterpost 2020

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crypticcravings · 5 years

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Christmas Bug Chapter 3

It’s finally here! Six months late! @adventures-in-mangaland Merry Christmas in June! Here’s the final chapter in your Secret Santa gift!

Also on Ao3

Marinette wasn’t able to fully process her discovery until she was finally alone the next day. She’d passed the last twelve hours as if she were watching a scene in a movie instead of actually experiencing it.

Looking back on the past ten years, there were plenty of signs. Adrien disappeared with thinly veiled excuses about as often as she did, and now she understood why. Not that she had questioned it much in the past. She had been too focused on getting away herself to think about what he was doing. And Cat Noir had shown signs, too. The feather allergy should have been the first indication, but lots of people had allergies! Why should she question that?

By that afternoon, she was wondering how she could have been so blind. It seemed so obvious.

Now that she thought about it, with Hawkmoth “defeated”--that’s what they were saying, at least, since he had been so silent for the past few years-- they didn’t have any real reason to hide their identities from one another. Not anymore. Though neither one had brought it up to each other in several years.

Maybe it was time to do so.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Adrien was ecstatic. The date was set. Christmas eve, he would make Marinette a nice, romantic dinner, then they would browse through the Christmas Market at the base of the Eiffel Tower. He would wait until the sun was setting, and he would get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. Then, they would return to his apartment where they would have dessert with some of their friends and family to celebrate. It was a simple plan. Maybe a little bit cliche, but he stood by it. After all, the only thing he cared about was spending his life with this lovely lady.

Now, all that's left was to wait.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was being weird. She knew she was being weird, but she couldn’t stop. The only contact she’d had with Adrien/Cat Noir in the last 24 hours since her discovery had been through a couple of quick text messages between his ever busy schedule. But it was patrol night, and she’d been forced to face him without the buffer of a screen between them. For some reason, the mask of composure she’d had the day before with Adrien left her. Something about the knowledge that it was her boyfriend, her supermodel, amazingly attractive, pun loving, ever supportive boyfriend poured into that leather cat suit made her brain short circuit. And she was having a hard time convincing herself that this was the first time she’d noticed how much she enjoyed looking at him in it.

She was sure he noticed how wildly she swung between tense silence and near incoherent babbling. Fortunately enough, even Cat Noir was used to her occasional strange moods and didn’t pry, trusting her to come to him when the time was right. It hadn’t always been that way. When they were younger, he had poked and prodded at her over every little thing. But at some point, he began to realize that the easiest way to get her to open up to him was to give her some space to sort things out on her own first, even if he really wanted to know.

Guilt gnawed at her. She wanted to tell him, she realized, that she had figured him out. She hadn’t been looking, but she’d found him anyway. Keeping this knowledge behind his back felt like a violation.

Unfortunately, she was never good at finding the right moments for revelations like these. They patrolled for an hour and a half, and the entire time, she couldn’t bring herself to broach the subject of their identities. So, she sent him off with a halfhearted, unenthused “see ya later” before swinging off to her own apartment for a late night stress snack and another fitful night’s sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Work kept Marinette blessedly busy the next day. She wasn’t sure if she could take much more of her brain turning over itself. Between the need to confess, the now obvious signs that she kept going over and over in her mind that her boyfriend was her partner all along, and the now growing excitement at that discovery, she was getting emotional whiplash. But, the office would be closed for the next few days for the holiday, and Marinette had quite a bit of work to get done before she locked up her desk for the break.

She was midway through making some changes that a senior designer marked on her sketches when her text tone buzzed on her phone. Tikki brought the device across the room so that Marinette barely had to put down her pencil to check the message.

Adrien: Date night. 1630 tomorrow. Don’t forget!

Adrien: And leave your design book at the office this time.

Marinette snorted. As if she would actually forget about their Christmas Eve date. Most families would be spending the evening together and having a nice, formal dinner. Adrien and his father hadn’t had such a tradition in years, and Marinette’s family opted to just celebrate on Christmas day when they could convince her grandparents to come together. So, for the past four Christmases, ever since they started university, Marinette and Adrien had spent the holiday-eve together.

And this year’s date would be the perfect setting for her to confess her recent discovery.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Adrien’s heart was officially pounding right out of his chest.

Dinner had been spectacular, of course. The restaurant he’d selected was a small, newly opened bistro within a short walk of the Eiffel Tower. They’d had roasted capon, greens, and potatoes that were all even better than his father’s private chefs had ever made, leaving the two of them stuffed. It hadn’t taken much to steer Marinette away from the dessert menu. He couldn’t very well tell her that her parents were at his apartment putting the finishing touches on their celebration sweets.

Fortunately, she mentioned a craving for mulled wine, allowing Adrien the perfect segue into the Christmas market.

It was already dark by the time they arrived at the base of the tower, and it was predictably busy, which did put a small damper on the idyllic, romantic picture Adrien had painted in his mind, but his plans were far from ruined. How could they be when his beautiful girlfriend looked so precious all bundled up, blowing on her steaming mug of wine?

Her hair was pulled back into low twin tails, a style he hadn’t seen her wear in several years. It reminded him of their high school years. Her little, upturned nose was rosy from the chill, and her delicate fingers clutched the souvenir mug tightly to leech its warmth.

In a few minutes, she was going to be his fiancée . If she said yes, that is. Plagg, Nino, Alya, and her parents had repeatedly assured him that she would say yes, would never even consider saying no. Even he knew his fears were baseless, but he couldn’t help the trill of anxiety that rang through him.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, before leading Marinette a little bit away from the packed crowds of the Christmas Market. They walked quietly down the Champs de Mars , away from the tower, until it stood brightly over them. The crowd around them thinned out to the point that they had some measure of privacy.

The little velvet box was heavy in his pocket.

As the two of them approached an unoccupied bench, Adrien glanced up at the starless night sky, then to his girlfriend’s pink cheeks.

Her clear blue eyes met his, the corners crinkling with the brightness of her smile, and he knew more than ever that he wanted to spend his life with this woman. That thought pushed past all remaining anxiety that muddled his brain.

Without another moment of hesitation, Adrien placed his hands over Marinette’s where she clutched the mug of wine. Her eyes widened and the chilled flush of her cheeks deepened. Adrien gave her a reassuring smile as he took the mug from her hands and placed it on the bench next to them. He kept one hand on her’s, a serene feeling he hadn’t expected filling his very soul as he took a deep breath and reached into his jacket pocket.

“Marinette, the last five years with you have been some of the best of my life,” Adrien began, the words he’d been rehearsing in front of his mirror for days tumbling out of him. He pulled the small, green box out of his pocket and braced himself to get down on one knee.

Marinette’s wide eyes locked onto that little box. He heard her breath catch, felt the way her fingers tightened around his. The redness in her cheeks rose even more.

“They’ve been the best in my entire life, and that’s why I have something very important to ask you.” But just as Adrien began to sink to his knee--

“I know your secret,” Marinette exclaimed.

Well that was...not even remotely what he was expecting her to say. Adrien nearly toppled over as his balance faltered. Her firm grip on his hand kept him upright and he returned to full height. His brows knit together.

He opened his mouth to ask what she was talking about when she cut him off again, her voice much quieter this time,but still carrying that same heat as before. “I know that you’re Cat Noir.”

His eyes widened, and his heart stopped dead in his chest. Panic tried to rise, but at the moment he was too dumbfounded to even get that far. “I--” On impulse, he tried to come up with some kind of excuse. He was suddenly fourteen again, trying to explain his tardiness to a stern physics teacher. Say something, idiot!

But Marinette continued. “It’s not like you’re bad at hiding it or anything. You’re actually really good at keeping it a secret. And it’s not your fault that I know, either! I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything wrong, but I had to tell you because it isn’t fair that I know, and you didn’t know that I know, and you don’t know about me either. That would be so messed up, right?” She let out a strangled laugh and slapped her free hand against her forehead. “I’m rambling.” She took a deep breath to steady herself.

Adrien waited, not wanting to interrupt, and afraid to even breathe.

“I know you’re Cat Noir because I’m Ladybug.” Marinette tucked one of her ponytails behind her ear, revealing the same reddish-black earrings she’s worn the entire time he’s known her.

Earrings, he suddenly realized, that looked a lot like what Ladybug’s miraculous would look like in their dormant state.

Adrien’s eyes brightened as he took the woman in front of him in. Long, low pigtails that had once been Marinette’s signature look. That continued to be a part of Ladybug’s.

Deep, blue eyes that narrowed when she was lost in thought, and the little upturned nose that scrunched up when she laughed.

It was like a grimy film was suddenly washed clean and he could see Marinette for the first time. And what he saw was His Lady.

Marinette fidgeted under his gaze, but did not let go of his hand.

Adrien didn’t let go, either.

Instead, with the little green box still in his grasp, he clutched her hand with both of his. He was sure any outsider would think him absolutely manic with how broadly he was grinning, but he didn’t care. “Well,” he remarked, unable to stifle the giddiness in his voice, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

Marinette sputtered at the pun, but he ignored her, continuing, “And since I already told Ladybug the rest of my secrets, I’m sure you already know what I was going to ask you.”

“Ask me?” She blinked at him, a look of confusion crossing her face.

“That big, important question that I’ve been planning on asking my girlfriend. On Christmas Eve.” All anxiety about popping the question disappeared the moment she told him who she was. Whether they knew it or not, Ladybug and Cat Noir had always been a matching pair. He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. He flipped the lid of the ring box open and presented it to her for what he realized was the second time.

Marinette suddenly remembered the circumstances of her discovering his identity in the first place. She had been so wrapped up in figuring out how she was going to tell him she knew that she completely forgot that Cat Noir had been planning on proposing to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve. And if Cat Noir was Adrien, that made her Cat Noir’s girlfriend, which meant….

Marinette swallowed, her heart now racing for a totally new reason.

“So, Ladybug,” Adrien said, his feline grin making her brain short circuit, “The past ten years with you have been the absolute greatest in my life. Now that I know our history together goes so much deeper than friendship and romance, I know that there is no way I can live without you by my side. You are the bravest, smartest, strongest, most beautiful woman in the world. All I want is to build a life with you. A family. Marinette, My Lady, will you do this pitiful stray the honor of marrying me?”

Marinette’s eyes burned. As if he even had to ask. Throat tight, she finally managed to speak again. “Yes.”

At her breathless response, Adrien’s heart soared with joy. He closed the distance between them, tightening their embrace, and sealed the engagement with a kiss. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he had done to be so lucky as to marry the one true love of his life.

#cryptic fic #christmas bug #adrinette

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newtothewaywardparty · 6 years

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The Ghost of an Idea 3

Read Stave One: Bobby’s Ghost, Part 1

Read Stave Two: Bobby’s Ghost, Part 2

Stave Two: The First of the Three Spirits, Part 1

When Dean awoke, it was so dark he couldn’t make out the rickety TV stand in the ratty motel room. He blindly fumbled on the nightstand for his phone and checked the time, his eyes squinting against the blue glare of the screen.

To his astonishment, it read 11:58 p.m. Dean had passed out around two in the morning. He swiped his screen to wake it up, checking the date next to the time. Had he actually passed out and slept all the way through the day and into the next night? No, the date still read December 24.

Dean stumbled out of bed and groped his way to the window, pulling aside the curtains, upsetting a cloud of dust that rained cigarette ash smell into the room, clouding his vision and making him cough. When the fine powder settled, Dean almost shrieked. Jo Harvelle stood just outside the window.

She stood still as a statue, unblinking yet unmenacing. Her hair was long and golden, carefully arranged in gentle waves. Mindless of the cold, she wore not her usual hunter’s jeans but rather a long, white sundress, the kind Dean knew chicks sometimes wore to outdoor music festivals. The dress was cinched with a southwestern-style silver concho belt, studded with turquoise. Her well-worn shit-kickers completed the ensemble, Dean noted with a small smile. You could take the girl out of hunting, but you couldn’t take the hunter out of the girl.

The weirdest part was, she seemed to glow from the inside out with a strange light, making her appear both younger and older than when Dean had known her at the Roadhouse and, later, on hunts together. The light emanated strongest from her head, which was just weird. Dean held his arm up like a visor to protect his hungover eyes as he tried to see which version (childlike or ancient) she really was, but it made him dizzy and sick. He was going to blame the sherry.

Dean pulled the window open. Let’s kick this in the ass, he thought. “So you’re Bobby’s first messenger?” he asked.

“That’s right, sweetheart” Jo replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past.” She spread her arms wide. She always had a flair for the dramatic, Dean reflected.

“Can you maybe-” Dean waved his other hand to indicate her head, shining like a beacon in the dark parking lot.

“Fine,” she sighed, producing a straw cowgirl hat with a colored beaded band from somewhere and placing it on her head. The light dampened considerably so that Dean could look at her through narrowed eyelids. “But it’s not my fault you can’t look at it.” She pouted a bit, and looked every bit the young woman she had been all those years ago at the Roadhouse in Nebraska. Dean shook that memory away, trying to clear his head.

“Uh,” Dean began. Articulate as always. “So what’s the game plan, here?” The frigid air was beginning to make him shiver, even fully dressed as he had fallen asleep. He grabbed his own arms to stop his shivering.

Jo gave him a lopsided smile. “C’mon Dean. I know you like to pretend to be dumber than a post, but I know you’ve at least seen Scrooged.”

Dean shrugged noncomittally. He was a huge Bill Murray fan. Of course he had seen it, but he wasn’t going to give anything up easily. He was even more reluctant to admit he had seen A Muppet Christmas Carol back at the bunker with Cas. They had sat together on Dean’s bed, comfortable with beer and Funyuns. Dean’s heart clenched as he remembered fielding Cas’ questions. “How can a Pig and a Frog be romantically attracted to each other? How do they reproduce? This movie is extremely scientifically inaccurate, Dean.”

“Let’s go, Dean” Jo said, now seeming older again, confident and immune to Dean’s bullshit, holding out her hand through the window. “We’re burning time here.”

Dean took her hand, a little unsure how she expected him to scramble through the windowsill, high above the ancient radiator. Once they touched, though, he found himself floating, perfectly warm, through the air with her, flying above the Western Kansas countryside. The highway stretched out below them, and Dean could see wind turbines like a field of white sunflowers, their red air safety lights blinking at the top. It was like looking down onto a field of twinkling red Christmas lights.

“I can’t believe you Superman’d me!” Dean shouted over the rushing wind. He couldn’t help grinning widely as they soared over the Flint Hills, the lack of moonlight making their rolling curves seem sharper and deeper.

Jo laughed, a childish bubbling sound. “Can You Read My Mind?” She intoned in mock-serious tones.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re no Lois Lane, Joanna Beth.” He glanced down to see Mount Oread speeding toward them, the red-tiled roofs of the limestone University buildings visible even in the gloom. “Hey, this is Lawrence!” he exclaimed in recognition. “I grew up near here,” he said, even as they glided over his old elementary school, the playground where he had first learned to swing, pumping his little legs forward and back. It felt like flying. Dean experienced an unfamiliar physical sensation, one which he was unaccustomed to feeling, except on rare occasions of peace with Sam, and of course whenever he and Cas shared companionable moments, like when they had worked that case in Dodge City. He felt light in a way that had nothing to do with the magic of soaring through the air with Jo.

Jo steered them lower until they almost hit the roofs of the houses on the suburban block. “Do you know where you are?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Sam and I actually worked a case here about ten years back.” He blinked and somehow they were in the living room. He would have been more panicked but time travel had kind of becoming routine for him. Nevertheless, he was still amazed, taking in all the detail his memory had forgotten over the years. An afghan of multicolored granny squares adorned the avocado green and harvest gold plaid couch. A modest tree, draped with tinsel, stood by the window. Dean’s eyes fell to the carnage of empty boxes and wrapping paper under it.

“Oh wow! My Big Wheel!” He ran a hand over the red, yellow, and blue tricycle. “I totally forgot about this! And my G.I. Joe, man, he was so cool.” Dean picked up the action figure (no, it was totally not a doll, thankyouverymuch) and made shooting noises with its little gun. He turned, dropping it, as his eyes widened. “Oh, whoah, I totally remember this-” He started toward the object of his attention when he was interrupted by a man walking into the room.

He wore wide-leg light-wash jeans cinched with a brown belt with a large buckle. His western-style plaid shirt was tight with pearlescent buttons. His hair was shaggy (almost as long as Sam’s now), his face clean-shaven, but Dean would know him anywhere.

“Dad?” Dean breathed. His chest hitched. His Dad did not acknowledge them in any way. Jo placed a reassuring hand on Dean’s arm.

“They can’t hear or see us” she said, a too-kind expression on her face.

“Dean! Get in here, son. I found what I was looking for” John Winchester called. For the first time, Dean noticed the cardboard album cover in John’s hands. A small boy, little more than a toddler, careened into the living room, rushing into his dad’s arms with a squeal. He had a blonde bowl haircut, chunky cheeks, and brown corduroy jeans. Dean flinched, instinctively guarding against John’s reaction. His father only gathered the boy up in a bear hug and roared.

“All right, little monster,” John said, after setting young Dean down on the braided rug. “I want to show you how to use this new tool.” Dean’s mouth fell open as the man indicated the toy adult Dean had been wanting to get his hands on, an orange plastic Fisher-Price record player in its own portable case, designed for young hands.

With patience Dean had never seen John Winchester use anytime in his conscious memory, his father explained, step-by-step to his child self how to carefully place the vinyl on the turntable, turn it on, and place the needle. The album in use was John Denver’s Poems, Prayers, & Promises. After completing his explanation, John kindly coached young Dean through the steps himself, praising the child when he did something correctly, and gently correcting him when he forgot the order of steps or was too rough. Preschool Dean beamed, eyes gleaming, when “Sunshine on my Shoulders” began playing from the player’s tiny speakers. John patted him on the shoulder, silently approving.

“Boys!” came a voice from the kitchen. “Supper’s almost ready.” Dean’s mother appeared at the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Mary’s skin was flushed from the heat of cooking. She was lovely and warm, just as Dean remembered. “Go get washed up now” she said, in a not-at-all-stern tone, putting her hands on her hips, her belly heavy with Sam, who would be born in the spring. Dean drank her in greedily. This was Christmas 1982. Dean was just three years old. This was his last Christmas with his mom. Their last Christmas as a family. Before…

Jo interrupted him. “What’s that on your cheek, Dean?”

Dean sniffed “Sweat. It’s too damn hot in here.” Jo pretended not to see him discreetly swipe at his eyes with the back of a sleeve. He resumed watching as his small family gathered around the oak table piled high with ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and of course, his mom’s homemade apple pie. Little Dean sat in a green molded plastic booster, eating enthusiastically with his Bert and Ernie and Big Bird silverware, his parents chatting happily on either side. Dean shook his head. “Poor kid,” he uttered under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jo. She raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“I just…” Dean struggled to find the words. I barely remember this, but at least I had it once. Sam never had it all, even though I tried my best. Now it’s Jack’s first Christmas, and…” he shrugged, stuffing his hand in his pockets. “I just wish I had maybe stuck around; shown him a good one. Like this.”

Jo smiled thoughtfully and waved her hand. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand” she said brightly, and suddenly they were in a different living room. Dean recognized the tan velour couch instantly. This was Sonny’s farmhouse, the boy’s home where he had spent a couple of months in 1995 after he had gotten nabbed for stealing food for Sam. Teen-aged him sat on the couch, sucking face with Robin.

Dean whirled on Jo. “What the hell? This wasn’t even at Christmas!”

“Your history didn’t leave a plethora of choices. We had to make do with what we had.” Jo shot back, defensively.

“We?” inquired Dean.

Jo gave him a sharp smile. “When Bobby Singer calls, I answer.” She shrugged. “Plus, I’m not gonna pass up the chance to work one last case with a Winchester.” She winked at him, then nudged his arm. “Shhh, or you’ll miss it.”

They turned back to the teenagers making out on the couch. They were discussing the upcoming school dance. “I’m not going anywhere, Robin.” Grown-up Dean winced at those words. He knew how much he meant them at the time. How quickly he’d forget them once John showed up with Sam in tow. Sam would come first, before anything else, for a long time after that.

“She was your first love.” Jo said, a soft look on her face. Dean’s face didn’t leave young Robin. He nodded.

“You never loved anyone like this again.” stated Jo. She looked older now, tired and sad.

Dean whipped his head toward her. “I have so!” he retorted.

“Not like this,” said Jo. “Not in that whole, pure, unguarded way.” The scene around them shifted. Sixteen-year-old Dean was tying his tie over that dorky short-sleeved dress shirt, and Sonny was telling him his father was here to take him away.

“This was the moment, Dean.” Jo said, voice low and deliberate. “The moment you discovered giving your heart to someone could mean getting it broken.” Dean’s tracked his young self helplessly as he went to the window, looking out at John and Sam. Followed the boy, he was just a kid, as he shook hands, brave face through tears with Sonny. Jo continued: “You always held yourself back after this. Cassie, Lisa, anyone else; you never really let them in.”

Dean grit his teeth and whirled on Jo. “Good talk, Russ. Next stop?” Jo touched his hand and they stood on the shore of a lake Dean had never wanted to see again in his life or any other. He barely had time to draw a breath before his eyes landed on Cas, blade sticking through his check, blue light escaping his mouth and eyes. Shit.

Read Stave Two: The First of the Three Spirits, Part 2

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #futurefic #Sam Winchester #John Winchester #Dean Winchester #Mary Winchester #Jo Harvelle #A Christmas Carol #Dickens Crossover #destiel #deancas #Cas isn't really in this yet #don't worry we'll get there #it's a lot longer than I planned #yes I know it's not Christmastime anymore who cares?#I'm the same age as Dean can you tell?#1980s christmas

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kavuyi · 4 years

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Nkani: All That Glitters 31 Part 2 https://ift.tt/2T6Zylh

For this chapter, we had another writer add in some amazing words. Can you guess which parts?

We hope you enjoy. It’s sooooooo drama!!!

“Hey babe.”

Sangu wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my cheek.

“Hey.” I respond.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He brushes his lips across mine. He’s in a good mood, I can tell. He probably had the best day at the hospital. He gives me one last kiss on my lips before he lets go of me and takes my hand.

“Dinner?” He asks.

He flashes me a smile before he leads us to the kitchen. I roll my eyes at the back of his head.

“You cooked?” I ask

He turns and looks at me.

“Yeah. Come on, I’ve been cooking the past days. Why you shocked?”

“Well, I know you can cook but everyday? Honey are you sure you want to be in the kitchen everyday?”

“For you? Of course. You’ve been doing everything for me for so long so I’m showing you I’m here for you.”

“That’s really sweet of you but work? You’ve been coming home earlier than usual.”

“I know.”

“And?”

“And its all sorted babe. No worries.”

“What is going on?”

He opens the door leading to the kitchen and stands aside to let me through. I do not take a step passed him, I look at him hoping to see some kind of answers from his eyes but nothing. He gives nothing away.

“Sangu what’s going on? I’m getting worried.”

“I’ll tell you everything later. We gotta celebrate first.”

“Celebrate what?”

“I’ll tell during dinner. I have your favourite wine, chilled, roasted pork, mash potatoes, greens…”

“No. Tell me now.”

He smirks and stands in front of me.

“Remember those days we talked about me reducing my number of hours at Queen Elizabetha Medical Hospital?”

“Yes.”

He grabs my shoulders excitedly.

“Well, that day has come.” He laughs. “I finally got a response from Patrick Chileshe Memorial Hospital. You’re looking at their newest doctor.”

“That’s amazing sweetie. I’m so happy for you. When did you get the news?”

“Today. In the morning.”

“Great. But you’re home early? You’ve home early this past week.”

“Well I’m on leave. Or not really on leave. I still get called in for particular cases.”

“Oh. You didn’t tell me.”

“Was going to the day of moms birthday but stuff. Then Thandiwe.”

“Oh. You get home early enough to cook?”

“Exactly. Now I have to think about how to split my time schedule between the two hospitals.”

“I don’t understand.” I respond confused. “Doesn’t that mean more hours for you?”

“Slightly more but better pay.” He says

“Okay if you put it that way.” I laugh. “I’m so proud of you honey.”

I close the gap between us and kiss him. He smiles against my lips.

“Told you I’ll make you proud of me.” He whispers

“Yes you did. And you have.”

“Dinner?”

“Of course.”

He takes my hand and we walk into the kitchen. The scent of cooked food makes my mouth water. I can’t wait to eat it all up. Sangu has the kitchen table prepared, empty wine glasses standing beside plates laden with our dinner.

“Let me take your bag ma’am.” He says

He takes my handbag from my hand and places it on an empty chair around the table. He pulls a chair back for me, ever the gentleman.

“The food smells so good Sangu. I absolutely love the display. I’m a lucky lady.”

“Yes you are.”

He sits down beside me, reaches out for the bottle of red wine standing between the wine glasses.

“Wine?” He asks

“Hmm. Thank you Hun.”

“Mum says hi.” He says as he pours the wine in our glasses.

“Hmmm.” I respond.

I grab one of the forks beside my plate as I watch him. The food tastes as good as it looks, so good it has me closing my eyes and sighing in pleasure. If there is something I know about Sangu it’s that whatever he puts his heart into comes out perfect.

“She’s as excited as I am about the news.”

I grab my glass of wine and look at Sangu.

“You told her?”

“Yeah. She came by the hospital actually.”

“Oh? Is she okay? Why was she there?”

“She actually brought………”

He stops short but the guilt in his eyes is enough. I know who his mother brought over. His amazing pregnant ex girlfriend. Did she do it deliberately? Remind him of a life he could have with his ex and her child or was did his mother take her to him for an honest check up? What is it with that woman and holding onto her son like he’s her last drop of water?

“Are they okay?” I ask

“As to be expected.” He responds, obviously relieved.

“That’s good.” I respond.

I look at my plate, the sight of food no longer as pleasant to look at. So his ex girlfriend found out about his job changes earlier than I did. She seems to know a lot more about him than I do. She knows about me and my problems from his mother. She probably knows the real reason Sangu left me on my birthday. What if he really wants her back? Surely he must know I don’t approve of him giving his ex check ups. And the fact that he would see her more often than I would like bothers me more than it should. His mother is to blame for this mess. Period. What am I supposed to do now? Wait it out? Till he leaves me again?

“Babe. Are you okay.” He asks. “You’re not eating.”

I look at him and smile.

“I’m great.” I respond. “I was wondering though. Do you really want to have children with me?”

“What kind of a question is that Sampa? Of course I do. I love you.”

I meet his gaze and shake my head.

“Sangu I think We need to talk.”

**********

“Call Sampa. Call Ian. Wash some whites. Have a salad and sleep.” I tell myself

No echoes are curious enough to talk back. It’s a beautiful end to a perfect day. One of my best days yet. The restaurant had one of its best days yet. Packed to maximum, I was kept on my toes all day. I got to do my job with the passion I was born with. I believe I killed every meal I made today and I’m proud of myself, the smile on my face is evident of that. I smile at my reflection in the mirror.

“Good work done Sonia.” I tell myself.

I blow myself a kiss and grab my handbag off the white sink. I need to get home soon. I walk out of the bathroom with a smile plastered on my face as I head to the kitchen area.

“Sonia?”

I turn around and catch sight of the hotel manager, Mr Mwansa standing by the door of his office. He lowers his head slightly to look at me over his rectangular spectacles that make him look older than his fifty years. Then again his grey hair doesn’t do much to make him look any younger.

“You’re still around?” He asks

“Just leaving actually.” I respond. “Just going to the kitchen to check on a few things then I’ll be gone. Quite tired to be honest.”

“Ahh I can imagine after the day you’ve had.”

“Very busy. But worth it.” I laugh.

“Could you step into my office please.”

My smile fades as I walk to his office. He heads to his desk as I close the door. I’ve been to his office too few times and it’s only been to deal with menu designs with the head chef, never after hours.

“Take a seat please.” He says slowly

I walk to the only empty chair across him and sit down.

“Sonia I want to thank you for coming in today. I know you had the day off to see your friend but you showed up. Thank you.”

I offer him a smile and meet his gaze.

“Anyway that’s not why I called you here.” He continues. “This should have been done earlier but the day got away with us.”

He shuffles a few papers aside on his table before he pulls out a brown envelope and hands it over to me. I look at the envelope then at Mr Mwansa, a look of confusion on my face. Is the hotel firing me I wonder. Did I do something wrong today? I believe I worked to my best today but if I’m getting fired then I obviously failed. Where will I get a new job from? Plus I need to save for my wedding. I reach out and take the envelope from his hand. I quickly rip the opening and pull a single white page from it.

A lips break into a smile as the words promotion and head chef stand out on the letter. I look at Mr Mwansa hoping his face can reveal that the letter is not some sort of prank.

“Promotion?” I ask

“It’s been a long time coming.” He laughs

“Yes it has.” I agree

“We, I and hotel management have noticed your efforts Sonia. You are an amazing chef. You’ve put your heart into everything you do. I’ve received glowing comments from clients. You never disappoint. Always willing to learn. We figured it was best we reward you for your work done. Like today you made the kitchen work and the product was beautiful meals that created smiles on people’s faces.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you will accept it. You will become head chef as of tomorrow.”

“But what about head chef Benard?”

“He will help you around the kitchen for the time being before you’ll be fully able to control the whole kitchen.” He says. “Bernard actually gave a glowing recommendation about your skills.”

“He did?”

“You seem surprised?”

“Not that I’m shocked I just didn’t know I would be under recommendation. That’s all.”

“We are always on the look for new and fresh talent Sonia and you are it.”

“But I don’t understand, the kitchen will have two head chefs?” I ask confused.

“Sadly no.” He sighs. “Bernard will be leaving us in a few weeks and he recommended you as his replacement.”

“He did? Me?”

“Yes. You. Did you have anyone else in mind for the job?”

“No. It’s just that I’m in shock. It’s a good thing sir.”

“I understand. It’s been a long time coming.” He laughs. “Then again he was telling us what we already knew. You are one hardworking chef.”

“Thank you sir.”

“This is the beginning of great things Sonia.”

“Thank you Sir.”

“So what do you say Sonia? Are you up for the challenge?”

“Yes!” I laugh. “Yes I am.”

“Well Sonia thank you for the work done and as head chef we expect more innovative meals from you.”

“I won’t let you down sir.” I respond. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”

**********

“You are the most stupid woman I know. The fact that you’re my sister even hurts me more. You’re letting your husband walk out of the house just like that? You can’t even stop him?”

I look at Tendai and roll my eyes before I walk out of the living room. I don’t have to sit and listen to her talk rubbish anymore. Chinyama is not here to listen to us talking so I don’t have to respond to her anymore. Since I walked in on them laughing, she’s not let me have one moment of peace in my own house. She didn’t even ask me how I was doing let alone if I’m okay.

No.

I don’t even know why she’s in my house right now. She hasn’t told me what’s going on. She didn’t even have the audacity to call me before showing up. She chose to call Chinyama first and tell him she was coming to Lusaka and my darling husband instead of calling me took it upon himself to pick her up and drive her home. To my home! I didn’t even have time to be happy at her arrival before she went right into trying to fix Chinyama and I.

And why?

Because my husband chose to tell her part of our marital drama first. The parts she wanted to hear anyway. Tendai didn’t bother to find out if it was true. To her Chinyama was the honest one and I the difficult wife with a hard heart. She literally forced him to stay for dinner so as to mend the gap. To my surprise Chinyama stayed. He literally agreed to stay for dinner and play with the kids. He was civil, and nice to me for some time while Tendai received all the smiles and laughs.

They both were irritating but for the kids I played the perfect host; and the gap fixer Tendai? Well she stayed by his side touching his shoulder or whatever she could touch all night till he left. If it wasn’t for me she would have begged him to stay the night.

“You really letting that man sleep in a lodge ayi? Really? You have such a big house. Lots of space. And you kick him out?” She continues. “Like mama you need to grow up and out of this phase. You still holding onto things he did a while back?”

What does she even know about my marriage for her to judge me? She’s in my house and she’s defending the very man that left his home. I don’t need her talking at all. I head to the kitchen with the sound of her heels behind me.

“I am so disappointed in you Mable. Do you know how many women would want to be in your shoes?” She asks

“Please tell me.” I whisper.

I push the kitchen door and walk into the kitchen, she follows behind me. I walk to the sink and place the plates in the sink. The maids can clean this mess up tomorrow. I’m not in the mood.

“A lot. Cheating husband or not a lot of women would love to be in your shoes with that man for a husband. You have everything you need! Everything! What else do you want? You’ve always been delusional about marriage and love mama.”

I turn around and face my sister. At the age of thirty-four she looks amazing. She’s kept herself fit and healthy that I feel jealous. If I had that body maybe my husband wouldn’t cheat on me. Maybe he would choose me; but then again I know Tendai manages her shape because she’s never had children or extra fat that comes with depression from a broken marriage. Tendai doesn’t even know what it’s like to be married and she’s here judging me for choosing happiness. Wonders never cease to amaze me.

“And to think Chinyama married you after you got pregnant. Like how many men do that? Feel guilt? Feel guilt and marry their baby mamas?”

Is that what it was? Guilt? He married me out of guilt and not love? Is that what he told her? What else had he told my older sister? Why is she still supporting him after all has done to me? She’s supposed to be in my corner being my best friend but no; then again Chinyama and Tendai were always close friends, best friends if they ever got to that stage. They were always together, they would hang out in the same clique, so many thought they would take it further but in the end he married me, her younger sister and settled down.

“Mum will be so disappointed.” She continues. “You need to let this go. Once and for all let it go and get your husband back. You’re gonna lose him.”

“Oh please, shut up.” I respond.

“How dare you.”

“How dare me? Tendai you’re in my house. Mine! And you’re on a bender about my marriage? My husband? Like seriously where do you get off telling me all that trash? Why are you even here? You called my husband when you came to Lusaka? What are you doing here?

“This is isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m your older sister pointing out you’re ruining your marriage.”

“Ruining my marriage? I think my marriage got ruined when my husband cheated on me the first time, don’t you think so too?”

“You need to let that shit go mama. For good or he’ll definitely go to her in the end? Is that what you want? The ridicule you’ll face?”

“Are you kidding me? Is that what he told you? Did he call you here to talk to me about this?”

“Oh please you know perfectly well your husband doesn’t tell me anything. We might be friends but he still respects you.”

“Then why are you up in my business now?”

“Because I care about you.” Tendai says slowly. “Chinyama told me about the living in different homes yes.”

“What else.”

“Nothing. But it’s pretty obvious there is more going on.”

“Paranoia was never your strongest suit Tendai. Please remember this, Chinyama and I are still married. Legally. We are simply living in different houses for now.”

“You think this is a joke? That he will come back to you when you’re done playing? You will lose a perfectly good husband to your jokes. You don’t even realise what you’re losing. You’re so stuck up. I don’t even understand or know why.”

“What is it to you? Whether I’m with him or not is not your business.”

“It is. He’s family. The father to my niece and nephews. Remember your kids. I swear if I did not know better I’d think you’re up to no good.”

“You’re mad.”

“You’re foolish for putting your kids in this predicament.”

“Tendai I swear if you don’t stop I’ll hit you or throw you out.”

“See!! You’re so rude. And you know you’re so lucky that husband of yours even defends you to this date. But one day he won’t.”

“Defends me? What the hell did I do wrong? He cheated. I was pregnant then. That man is still cheating. He still meets up with her. They share her child.”

“Her child? Is it his child? Blood for blood?”

“No.”

“So you’re angry that your husband who is a man is cheating and helping a woman with her child? Is that all?”

“I can’t talk to you anymore. Are you listening to me? You keep talking but you don’t know a thing about my problems with my husband. Stay out of them.”

“You act like you’re so perfect. Look at our family. Our parents. Remember them? That’s reality.”

“Oh please don’t bring them into this. Their marriage is theirs not ours.”

“It’s an example.”

“A horrible one.”

“Realistic.”

“Realistic? How? Mum suffered too remember? She wanted to leave dad.”

“She never left dad. She stayed with him through it all.”

“That’s her. She accepted it all. She accepted you because she couldn’t leave him at the end of the day.”

“Exactly. I’m the child he had outside his marriage but mum didn’t leave him or let him leave for a day. She took me in. She let him stay. They are happier than ever.”

“Tendai I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

I walk passed her towards the kitchen door. I will not have her comparing my marriage to my parents marriage. My mother suffered enough when she found out about dad and Tendai’s mother, the same way I suffered with the Cynthia situation. Now Tendai will try and demean my situation and call me bad. How rich.

“As my younger sister you need to figure out a way to fix the mess. You’re losing too good a man for trash. You’re losing a good man to trash you’ve met that has you lost.” She says.

I stop and turn around, my heart beating so fast I feel Tendai will hear it. What does she know about Isaac? Oh my. This is not good.

“What did you say?” I ask

“You suck at hiding secrets. You suck at being a liar. You met someone.”

“Now I’m the cheater?”

“You were not home when we came. And you showed up late. Who does that? Who is this person who keeps you out. I know your tuma friends work for a living.”

“Wait, so I can’t have friends who don’t work? Or I can’t visit any who do? Gosh I was not home because my husband was home.”

“Look at you trying to hide the truth. Who is he? Who is this man huh? This foolish man that has no idea who he’s dealing with.”

“Are you drunk? Did you have too much to drink?”

“I know you met someone else. I can tell. I know you too well. It’s written all over your face.”

“You are obviously losing it.”

“Mable, there is no way you would be willing to leave Chinyama over stupid shit. I know you. You’ve been fighting to save your marriage for years and now you’re strong enough to let him walk? You’re foolish. You’ll get caught. You’re so lucky your husband is foolishly blind in love with you not to see it all.”

“I’ve had it up to here with you.” I respond. “Enough. I don’t need your trash advice.”

“I’m trying to help you fix your marriage.”

“Don’t help at all. I will get my husband back.”

“With the way you’re acting I don’t think so.”

“Fine. That’s fine with me. Why don’t you concentrate on getting married first. Or even better finding a man first.”

“Do you actually miss your husband? Like do you miss him?”

Of course I miss my husband. Parts of him anyway. I’ve been with the man for so long so I’m bound to miss him when he’s gone.

“Do you miss him?” She repeats.

“What do you think?”

“You’ve left him to be out of this house for over a week and you show no signs of getting him back honey. You need to get your shit together.”

“When it’s time to fix this then it’s time. What is it to you? Let it go. That’s it.”

“I’m not the one who will be getting divorced.”

“Coming from you I’m surprised you’re not happy I’m separated from the man. After all haven’t you been in love with him for years? Holding onto him like he’s your lost love? Just stop it and accept that he’s still married to me. Goodnight Tendai.”

*********

There is no time like the present. Sangu cannot get away from this. We need to stop walking on eggshells in this relationship once and for all. I think I’ve been patient enough with the man and it’s time he opened up about what’s going on between us and his life. I’ve already been dumped once this year, I don’t want to waste time on a man who wants to be with someone else one day. I look at him and the look on his face breaks my heart. He’s not pleased but neither am I. At least I let him have dinner before I demanded for a sit down. Why was supposed to be a celebratory dinner turned into an out of this world full of tension dinner. Maybe I should have waited for another day because now I look like the selfish girlfriend. Pathetic.

“What do you want to know?” He asks.

“Everything. The truth.”

“I’ve been honest with you from the get go Sampa.”

“Except for the part where you forgot to tell me you’re visiting your ex, Penelope, most nights after work.”

Sangu exhales sharply and shifts uncomfortably.

“I’m not cheating on you.” He says

“I never said you were cheating Sangu.”

“Then what? What’s stressing you out?”

“The fact that you lied so many times all in the hopes of seeing her. If you had nothing to hide you would have told me.”

“I didn’t want you…” He pauses and looks at me. He takes a deep breath before he responds calmly. “Didn’t want to piss you off.”

“So you thought lying was the way to go? Now I’m getting pissed off honey.”

“You saying all this as if I wanted to do it.”

“You didn’t want to?”

“Of course not. Penelope and I are over. For good. The only reason I had to do her cheek ups was because mom requested me to help out.”

Of course she did. I knew she was involved in this mess, but then was she the only involved? What if quiet Penelope had suggested it first? What if she wanted Sangu back as well. What if this was the way to get him back? Have them connect over babies I couldn’t give him yet? And only Sangu knows the truth I need to know. I have to find out now or forever keep these thoughts to myself.

“Your mother made you do it?” I ask

Sangu looks away from me and nods. I can tell he’s nervous from the way he rubs his knees with his hands. He’s uncomfortable with my questions.

“She thought Penelope was having issues with the pregnancy. She was worried. So she had Penelope move in with her for a while. Just to keep an eye on her. And then she called me. I didn’t even know Penelope was pregnant.” He says.

“So you’re saying Penelope doesn’t want you back?”

“I don’t know what she wants. We don’t talk about the past and things we missed out on. She knows I’m with you. She knows I’m happy with you.”

“And she also knows I can’t have kids and that you left me on my birthday.”

“Mum revealed that to her not me. Mum is our link. I seriously wouldn’t have known a thing if it wasn’t for mum. I saw Penelope around the house before but I never thought anything of it. Our friendship was strictly that till mum told me.”

“And when was this? When did she first call you about the pregnancy?”

“December. Weeks before new year.”

Weeks before he dumped me on my birthday. Could it be he left me because of her? Was that it?

“Is that why you left? Broke up with me?”

“No!” He responds, too sharply.

He looks at me, his eyes flashing emotions he doesn’t want to show.

“You sure it had no connection?” I push further.

“I told you why I left Sampa. Don’t make me repeat the words.”

“So you found out your ex was pregnant and you became her personal doctor then dumped me, a woman who has low chances of ever getting pregnant weeks later. Surely you can see the connection.”

“You’re overthinking things.”

“Am I?”

“I was overwhelmed. Work. Us. Life. Then my mother. And then Penelope became a factor.”

“Because your mother wanted you guys to get back together. Did she convince you that you were better off with her?”

“My mother wants a lot of things but that doesn’t mean she will get those things.”

“But I’m right she wants you to get back with her? And my inability to have children for the time being makes it worse for you.”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter what my mother wants. Penelope and I are done. We are through. Have been for years.”

“Yet she is still priority?”

“To my mother yes. To me she’s a friend who happens to be pregnant. That’s it. The same way I care about Thandiwe.”

“So you didn’t tell me you cared about this friend’s pregnancy because you wanted your mother to do it for you?”

“Sampa..”

He reaches out to touch my hand and I slap his hand away instead.

“No, you embarrassed me. And your mother seemed happy with the result. You literally went all putty in her ploy to make me feel bad. I know I can’t have kids but I don’t need you or your family judging me for it.”

“Babe.”

He attempts to grab my hand again. I push his hands away and stand up.

“No. Don’t touch me. You are lying to me. Hiding things. What else are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

“So this week with the dinners? The cooking and taking care of everything has been nothing?”

“Sampa you know me. You know I love you. You’ve been stressed, the Thandiwe accident had you lost. I stepped up because you needed me. That’s my job as your boyfriend.”

He stands up and we face each other.

“Nothing more?” I ask.

“Nothing less.”

“So if you love me then why are still only dating five years later.”

“What?”

“Why are we still at this phase. This. Right now.”

“Sampa really. There so is much stuff to sort out.”

“So that’s why we are still in a relationship not taking this further? Like I think we are stuck in limbo waiting for your mother to get used to me?”

“It’s not like that at all. I have…. No.. We have much to do before we take that step Sampa.”

“Like what? Turn thirty? Get a house? Get better pay? What? We’ve done all that.” I respond. “Or you’re waiting for something else’s? A baby?”

“Gosh Sampa.”

“No. You need to accept that being with me means we might not have kids.”

He closes the gap between us. He wraps his arms around me and looks down at me.

“I accepted that.” He whispers.

“Are you sure? Because your family seems to think you’ll be a great dad to Penelope’s baby.”

“Did my mother tell you that? I swear if she even implied that to you I’m going to talk to her about this shit. It’s got to stop. Sampa, I love you. Baby or no baby, I’m still here.”

“Maybe you need to think about this. All of it. Then decide. Take time off and think. Whatever choice you’ll mane is cool.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks shocked.

“No. I just want you to be sure Sangu.”

“Sampa.”

“I love you Sangu but I’m not going to be some second option in your plans.”

“You were never a second option. You’re my only choice. I left you before and that was wrong and I will make sure you forgive me one day but I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Your mother will beg to differ.”

“I swear I’m sitting my mother down once and for all.”

“She will hate me even more.”

“Well hating you is hating me.”

He leans in and kisses my cheek.

“Don’t kiss me. I’m still angry with you.”

“I need you smiling. I’ll do anything to have you kissing me. You want me to stop checking up on Penelope then I’ll do just that. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Done.”

“No more secrets.”

“Done. You gotta promise not to hold things in for too long.”

“I promise.”

“Also let me spoil my girlfriend to dinner while I still have the time.”

“Fine. Gosh Sangu. What am I to do with you?”

“Love me babe. Just love me.” He laughs.

And he kisses me. And that’s all that matters right now.

**********

I hate her. I hate her.

I hate her for being somewhat right. I’ve been married to Chinyama for so long, I’ve fought the battles that came with marrying him. I beat Cynthia to keep my husband. And now I’m willing to let this all go? Why now?

Isaac?

Or am I doing this for me? To be free and happy without Chinyama. Our marriage is damaged, and whether or not it can be fixed time will tell. I miss him, I should miss Chinyama. He’s my husband. Maybe we have been separated for long enough. What if he decides to leave me. For good. I can’t let that happen. But then am I willing to let go of Isaac in the process. Or maybe I can keep them both while I decide.

The sound of my phone ringing makes me turn on the bed. I reach for my phone and shake my head as I look at Isaac’s name flashing on my screen. Tendai could tell I have another man, I don’t understand how she picked up on my secret while my friends failed to notice it. What if she tells Chinyama the her suspicions? What then? Maybe avoiding Isaac would be best for now.

I stare at the phone a second later and I click to answer.

**********

“I swear I hate the fact that I have to face an empty house. I think I need a roommate.”

“You love being alone Yoli.”

Mutale’s eyes twinkle with amusement and something else I can’t read. I hate him when he’s like this, excited like a little boy who just discovered what his favourite body part is used for. He’s been like this since I got to his place. His very new place. The man has made some changes in the time we’ve been apart with the first thing being him finding a job.

Mutale didn’t waste showing me every inch of his house the minute we arrived. He was happy and proud of himself, going as far as naming it “the move that changed his destiny.” For a while as I followed him around I couldn’t connect him to the man I used to date- the man I over spoiled and literally took care of who was now living the life I always knew he would lead.

Dumping me and moving on looks like the best thing that ever happened to him and for the first time I am actually happy for the man. I should hate him, I should be cursing his name and telling the world the man is a pig but here I am in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey in my hand laughing with the man that broke my heart months ago.

“If you’re being serious why don’t you get one of your friends to live with you?” He asks.

“I swear you are the worst boyfriend I ever had.” I laugh. “Sampa lives with Sangu, Mable and Thandiwe are married and Sonia is engaged. You seriously never paid attention.”

“Thandiwe is the one who was in the accident right?”

“Yes.”

“See I pay attention. Besides you have more friends that the favourite four.” He argues.

“Not ones I can tolerate like my besties.”

“The always having fun aspect?”

“The no judgment part more than the fun. I am crazy sometimes.”

“That I know.”

“I know you know Mutale. You’re as crazy as me.”

I stick my tongue and he repeats the act. I missed him; I miss the random late night chats even more. Mutale was my friend through and through. What we had was beautiful, some part of it anyway.

“Do you miss us? Me?” He asks

Finally he brings it out. The dreaded question acting as an elephant in the room. Of course I missed him. Some part of me should him but with way I’ve been living my life I haven’t had the chance to admit that to myself. Do I miss him? Or the idea of being with him?

“Well I called you so obviously I must miss something. You couldn’t even call me.”

“I tried. You blocked me.”

“You deserved it.”

I meet his gaze and smile.

“I definitely missed this.” He laughs.

“What?”

“This. Talking to you.” He says. “Being with you. There is something about you Yolanda.”

Just old times, me sitting on top of the chest freezer, he parts my legs apart and stands in between them.

This is not what I planned for.

This is not how I saw this “meeting to end the boredom” going. So much for talking.

Maybe I should have worn the red lingerie set, the one made up of all lace and nothing else. Why the hell am I thinking about lingerie.

“I miss you.” He whispers.

I lift up my head to meet him staring down, his eyes, firmly centered on my eyes. He tips my chin upwards, our faces were just inches apart, Mutale whispers gently and in an unnaturally hoarse voice.

“Yoli, I never stopped loving you”

In one swift motion, his head dips down, his lips find mine with such force and passion, I clench my eyes to brace myself. I kiss Mutale back as madly as I can, my hands grabbing the nape of his neck, pulling him in for more. Our lips lock in close combat, my tongue desperately dueling his and savouring the sweet sensation coursing down. Two minutes seems like an hour before we break up for some needed air, his eyes almost bloodshot with need, passion and lust.

Our eyes meet once again, and this time no words are needed for the encore. I push myself against his chest, positioning myself better on the hard surface of the chest freezer as Mutale’s lips come searching once again for mine. This time his gentle self attempts to gain some semblance of control as his kisses are much more softer and restrained; his fumbling hands on the buttons of my shirt tells me about the futile battle he is fighting. I smile against his lips in need. I want more of him and I know Mutale will not disappoint.

Mutale marks every spot of my face with his kisses; he gives me one lasting kiss before he abruptly breaks our interlocked lips and retreads a step or two. I look at him, an incredulous look on my face as I catch my breath. He runs a hand over his face groaning. Mutale keeps his gaze on me, the lust and passion unmistakably still stalking his eyes as he exhales.

“I’m sorry Yoli, we can’t do this.” He starts. “Not yet.”

“Yet?” I laugh.

He wants this as much as I want this.

“What do you mean by “you can’t do this”, Mutale?” I growl back at him. “You don’t go passionately kissing your ex you’re still in love with when you aren’t prepared to go all the way” I shout at him.

“You want this?” He asks.

“You started it.” I sigh.

“We are supposed to talk remember. Cure your boredom.” He responds, the calm, collected gentleman makes a return as he leans against the refrigerator.

I shake my head slowly, as I avoid his eyes.

“Fine.” I retort. “Let’s keep talking.”

” I love how you always switch from passionate Yoli to calm Yoli.”

“Well I’m not in the mood for jokes. Let’s talk.”

He smiles and walks back to me, between my legs. Mutale wants to play and I have all the time in the world. He dips his head lower for a brief moment, as if seeking for the truth in my eyes. His hands grab the sides of my face and he kisses me, gently. None of our eyes close as his lips massage mine into submission. He pulls away from me but his hands stay on my face. He gives a bitter laugh.

“I’m getting married on Saturday, Yoli.”

I freeze. Goosebumps all over my skin as his words replay on my mind. He’s getting married and yet I’m here in his arms kissing him like old times? What’s he playing at? Our eyes meet and I see what looks like remorse on his face. I wish I could slap his face to hell right now but I don’t. He’s leaving me forever.

“Say something.” He whispers.

What do I say? Congratulations? What? Am I really happy about this piece of information? Why is he marrying her so soon? Is she pregnant? What is he up to? What do I do? Sitting on his freezer, wanting him. I should leave now. Why stay? This is a taken man. I’m better off with the love you now Mr Forty or the ever angry but nice Masulani. Mutale is my past. I lift my hands to his face and smile.

“Congratulations boo.” I whisper.

Goodbye? That’s all I have to say next and I’m so gone. This is it.

“Mutale.” I whisper.

I pull his head closer to mine and merge my lips with his.

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understandingchaoss · 7 years

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Do Not Tell Me I'm Skinny When My Eating Disorder Says Otherwise

“I’m going on a diet because I’ve gained way too much weight. But that isn’t something you have to worry about.” “You’re lucky you don’t have to go to the gym.” “You’re so lucky that you can eat whatever you want without getting fat.” “You’re so skinny and I don’t understand how.”

Those are some of those common ways I am indirectly told that people are “jealous” of the way that I look. I would be lying if I said hearing those kinds of things didn’t hurt my feelings. I struggle daily with an eating disorder and my appearance. I would bet money on the fact that most of the people reading this do not know I even have such a thing.

I have what is called anorexia nervosa binge eating-purging type. There are three different disorders in that one diagnosis, and most people know what each one means individually; but what about combined?

The problem is that when most people picture what anorexia looks like, they picture a girl in the hospital, weighing less than 80 pounds who is on her death bed because she never eats. Most people picture binge eating as some overweight 50 year old woman, lying on her couch eating potato chips all day, while the working class pays for her to do so. Purging isn’t as commonly known, but for those who have heard of it, most picture it as a girl hurling her lunch into the toilet because she didn’t want to allow her body to retain its nutrients, after all, that would mean she would gain weight.

I have spent years fighting with the voice in my head that screams much too loud for my liking. My eating disorder is what I like to call my inner demon. It convinces me that I have gained too much weight and now have to pull out my “fat pants” because I went up a whole pant size after a bingeing episode. It convinces me that the only solution to losing any of that weight is to starve myself. The voice sounds horribly familiar. Maybe even my own? I’m never able to distinguish. Whatever and whoever it is, it brainwashes me into thinking I’m not good enough, and that I certainly don’t look good enough to the outside world.

Before we go any further, I’m going to set a few things straight.

First of all, all of those stereotypes are all wrong. Second of all, science is a fascinating thing, so I’m going to throw in a little education session.

Any and all eating disorders can affect anyone of any age, size, and gender. Men, women, children, and the elderly can all battle eating disorders.

Anorexia nervosa - contrary to popular belief - is actually not the most common eating disorder in America. For some reason though, it is the most glorified. It does, however, have the highest mortality rate of any other eating disorder. If you were to google it, the direct definition is: a lack or loss of appetite for food. This is where most people like to do what’s called a self-diagnosis. Except following that definition, it states as a medical condition. A medical condition is a medical condition only by diagnosis done by a medical/mental health professional, not self-diagnosis (so if you believe you may be having symptoms, see a medical/mental health professional for evaluation). With anorexia, the body is denied the essential nutrients it needs in order to function properly. As a result, the body is forced to slow down all of its processes and conserve whatever energy it may have left. The “slowing down” state can have serious medical consequences such as:

Abnormally slow heart rate and low blood pressure, which mean that the heart muscle is changing. The risk for heart failure rises as heart rate and blood pressure levels sink lower and lower.

Reduction of bone density (osteoporosis), which results in dry, brittle bones.

Muscle loss and weakness.

Severe dehydration, which can result in kidney failure.

Fainting, fatigue, and overall weakness.

Dry hair and skin, hair loss is common.

Growth of a downy layer of hair called lanugo all over the body, including the face, in an effort to keep the body warm.

Just because someone has anorexia, does not mean that they will end up in treatment, will die from it, or will look like the typical stereotype. It is rare, but not completely unheard of for children under the age of 10 to develop anorexia. It can also be present in adults of any age, sometimes being present until the day that they die of natural causes unrelated to the eating disorder – if the eating disorder does not claim them first.

The following symptoms must be present for a potential diagnosis.

Inadequate food intake leading to a weight that is clearly too low.

Intense fear of weight gain, obsession with weight and persistent behavior to prevent weight gain.

Self-esteem overly related to body image.

Inability to appreciate the severity of the situation.

Obsessive counting of calories/compulsive exercising (does not need to be present for diagnosis, but is very common in extreme/severe cases)

Binge eating is actually the most common eating disorder in America weighing in at 2.8% of all American’s. Binge eating directly translates to: the consumption of large quantities of food in a short period of time; recurrent episodes of eating large quantities of food (often very quickly and to the point of discomfort); feelings of loss or control during the episode.��Binge eating usually takes place as a way for an individual to use food as a way to cope with or block out feelings and emotions that they do not want to feel. Individuals can also use food as a way to numb themselves, to cope with daily life stressors, to provide comfort to themselves, or to fill a feeling of worthlessness they feel within. A person struggling with binge eating will typically have a depressive episode following the bingeing episode, which usually consists of having feelings of shame, distress, or guilt. The following symptoms must be present for a potential diagnosis:

Eating, in a discrete period of time (e.g., within any 2-hour period), an amount of food that is definitely larger than what most people would eat in a similar period of time under similar circumstances.

A sense of lack of control over eating during the episode (e.g., a feeling that one cannot stop eating or control what or how much one is eating)

Marked distress regarding binge eating is present

The binge eating occurs, on average, at least once a week for 3 months

The binge eating is not associated with the recurrent use of inappropriate compensatory behaviors (e.g., purging) as in bulimia nervosa and does not occur exclusively during the course of bulimia nervosa or anorexia nervosa (I will address how my diagnosed eating disorder is possible with this as a symptom of binge eating shortly)

Binge eating episodes must have three or more of the following for a potential diagnosis:

Eating much more rapidly than normal.

Eating until feeling uncomfortably full.

Eating large amounts of food when not feeling physically hungry.

Eating alone because of feeling embarrassed by how much one is eating.

Feeling disgusted with oneself, depressed, or very guilty afterward.

Purging type is most often associated with bulimia, because a form of purging is self-induced vomiting. However, purging can also consist of the sudden restriction of food, engaging in abuse of laxatives, diuretics, or enemas after a period of bingeing. An individual can have purging type without having bulimia.

How is anorexia nervosa binge eating-purging type even possible then? That was the question I kept asking when the therapist I was seeing during my four years of high school informed me that I fit the criteria. I did months’ worth of research. Unfortunately, there is not a lot of information available for such an eating disorder as it is classified under an Eating Disorder(s) Not Otherwise Specified (EDNOS) because of the fact that there are only certain symptoms from each disorder’s criteria found in other eating disorders. This means that I might only have two symptoms from one disorder’s criteria, but four from another, and only one from another. EDNOS was designed for such cases. From what I could find, I learned that it is most commonly associated with trauma. My eating disorder started out as frequent binge eating. I remember wanting to literally eat everything in sight. I wanted anything that consisted of carbs, fats, and sugars. As a result, I gained an immense amount of weight in a very short period of time. At that time, I had always weighed between 120 pounds and 138 pounds. So when I suddenly gained enough weight to shoot me up into the 200s, I felt disgusting. I was mad at myself for gaining that much weight, and allowing it. I was mad at myself for using food as a way to cope. So instead of putting myself on a healthy diet, I just flat out stopped eating. Most days, all I would have was an apple when I woke up and a small meal for dinner. I did that only because I was on medications that required food intake before the dosage. My bingeing episodes would last for months at a time, and my purging episodes would last for months at a time, which is why the three are able to occur at different times, but still simultaneously exist in the same diagnosis. According to my previous therapist, this type of eating disorder is extremely harmful to the body. Of course, all eating disorders are. But she informed me that I was literally putting my body through shock and trauma. Just as my brain was in shock as a result of the trauma, I was doing the same exact thing to my body. Anorexia/purging can slow down your heart rate, lower your blood pressure, and lower your cholesterol; while binge eating can speed up your heart rate, raise your blood pressure, and raise your cholesterol. By alternating back and forth between the two very suddenly, the body can go into a state of shock.

Now, why do I not want to be praised for the way that I look when I go through a period of purging?

Imagine that you suffer from a series of mental illnesses, but one in particular is the only one that can, possibly, directly kill you, and yet you are receiving praise for the very symptoms that are destroying your mind and body. I am literally being praised for destroying my body. I am being praised for restricting my food intake for one period of time, and eating much more than I should for another period of time. I am being praised for harming myself.

So yes, gaining weight is something I have to worry about. No, I am not lucky I don’t have to go to the gym because I’m basically destroying my mind and body while you’re doing it the right way. No, I am not lucky I can eat whatever I want without getting fat, because I can definitely gain more weight at a faster rate than most. I am skinny because of an eating disorder, that’s how. I do not recommend it.

The only reason the majority of people around me do not know that I have an eating disorder, is because most people who binge and then purge, do not look unhealthy or underweight. But believe me when I say that I know exactly when I’ve gained weight. I don’t even have to step on the scale. I know when I’ve gained even three pounds; because I can see it. My eating disorder warps my perception of myself in order to be convinced that I am much too fat and I need to lose some weight. I don’t go from 80 pounds to 200 pounds overnight, so most people don’t believe me when I say that I used to weigh over 200 pounds. However, if you put pictures side by side of my different weight fluctuations over different periods of time, you would most definitely be able to see a difference.

Contrary to popular belief, eating disorders are actually not a choice. They are complex illnesses with biological, psychological, and environmental causes. They are in fact classified as a mental illness. I know that no one forced this disorder upon me. So if no one did, what did? That voice inside my head tells me that I brought it upon myself. In fact, it screams at me that I’m to blame. But no one person or thing is to blame for my eating disorder, including myself. It is a combination of neurobiology, family of origin, social and societal environments, and trauma. Depression almost always goes hand in hand. When you have depression, you lack the psychological means to deal with life stressors. As a result, your brain seeks a way to find relief in any way that it can.

Years later, and I still struggle with my eating disorder. I still fluctuate in weight frequently. But I am not responsible for the onset of my eating disorder. But I am responsible for my recovery and freedom from it. I must forgive myself for developing the eating disorder. I must forgive my brain for not being able to cope with the stress of life and the trauma I have endured. My eating disorder is an outward manifestation of inward confusion, anxiety, and distress. In order to find freedom, I must first deal with what it was that caused that confusion, anxiety, and distress. It becomes difficult to do so when I am being praised for destroying myself. It causes more confusion and anxiety within my head, thus causing me distress and to take several steps backwards.

I did not choose my eating disorder. My eating disorder chose me. But I can choose recovery from it, and I can choose to find freedom from it. Do not praise me for my illness. Do not praise me for hurting myself. Do not praise me for expressing my confusion, anxiety, and distress in an unhealthy manner. In fact, I don’t want any praise at all, because in the end, the glory and praise isn’t given to me. But if you must praise me for my courage or strength, or whatever it is you’d like to praise me for, praise me for my choice of recovery and the courage and strength it took to make that decision. Because at the end of the day and at the end of the road of my battle with my eating disorder, my choice of recovery is the only choice that will ever matter.

If you or someone you know is struggle with an eating disorder - or you suspect that they may be struggling with one - and needs support right now, please contact the National Eating Disorders Association at 1-800-931-2237 or text NEDA to 741741

If you or someone you know needs support right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, or text START to 741-741

#understandingchaos

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loislaneinvestigatesauthors · 6 years

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Chicken Doodle Soup (Don Owens) presents Stick to the Funny Stuff!

I notice your lead female character, 'Oprah Fat-Free' deals with severe depression. Did you do research into how depression works, how the state of mind of a person changes when they are experiencing that? Have you known anyone who was depressed to that point?

QUESTION #1: Good question, even though "STICK To The Funny Stuff" doesn't go in-depth on the subject of depression, but rather, utilizes stick-figure comedienne Oprah Fat-Free as a representative for every human being on the planet, who faces some obstacle serving as hindrance to positive existential progression along this miraculous road called life. But yes, statistics indicate there is a substantial number of depression cases on record. The World Health Organization has reported 300 million people around the world suffer this affliction. Reportedly, 16.2 million U.S. adults have experienced a major depressive episode, with approximately 10 million being severely impaired by their experience. Anxiety disorders are attributed to approximately 50% of all people diagnosed with depression.

Depression can befall an individual at any stage in his or her life. It can range from moderate to crippling, as there are many forms of depression, as well as multiple catalysts thought to precipitate its onset, such as complex-chemical reactions in the brain and gene vulnerability identification. I myself have been depressed and sought counseling while in the military. My girlfriend, now deceased due to heart failure, suffered from a bipolar disorder and depression was a significant marker highlighting her condition. It's a mental-health issue that has motivated individuals even to suicide. But here's a statistic that I believe offers hope: I read a 2017 study indicating that Christianity at this point is still the world's number one faith. So then, for followers of the faith, God offers hope in the face of this state of impairment.

Of course there are skeptics who ascribe God's existence to fervent imagination, but what about those CERTIFIED physicians, such as Dr. Sean Thomas George, who go on public record as saying hopeless cases were reversed by divine intervention? Who could be more credible sources than esteemed, highly skilled health-technicians, to confirm a miraculous event? By the way, I myself was in three hospitals in two different states, dying, with no explanation whatsoever as to why my body was shutting itself down. Doctors were baffled by my condition. So perplexed was one of my doctors, he mused about publishing my case in a medical journal. I wouldn't be here today - except for the prayers of my family and the church. I'm a living witness to God's healing hand.

Be they physical or mental conditions, God's Word says He is ready to step in to assist us with our afflictions. I was reading a case of a depressed woman who'd been deemed to be in need of receiving shock treatments for her depression! But as a believer, she called on Christ, and He availed Himself to her. No one is saying these condition reversals take place in an instant, necessarily. Although, God is more than capable of on-the-spot healing, as scripture illustrates. But often in the Bible, God took His sweet time (in some instances, decades or CENTURIES) about turning situations around, simply because His timetable supersedes ours. But He tells us in His Word that with His assist, we are more than conquerors through Him that love us (Romans 8:37) and that He is The Lord Who heals us (Exodus 15:26, Psalm 30:2).

Do you think that humor really helps people get through life stuff? Is it a matter of 'laugh or else you'll be crying?'

QUESTION #2: Definitely! I read an article posted online at PsychCentral entitled "9 WAYS THAT HUMOR HEALS" by Therese J. Borchard. She states that "Of all the tools I use to combat depression and negativity, humor is by far the most fun." I agree with her assessment that humor combats fear, comforts, and relaxes you. She also notes that it reduces pain, boosts the immune system, reduces stress and cultivates optimism. And she even mentions one of my favorite scriptures in the Bible, Proverbs 17:22, which states that a merry heart does good like medicine. Actor Robin Williams' movie "Patch Adams", was based on real-life doctor Hunter Campbell, who infused laughter-based therapy into his treatment regimens for his patients. Studies show that laughter is an unimpeachably viable element in the healing process.

That said, I am a humor goon! I love to laugh and I love trying to make others laugh. This is why I chose humor to try to convey God's Good News message to the world. I've seen the dramatic difference God can make in the lives of the willing - and how He replaces tears with the infectious rumble of hearty laughter! And I can tell you, I much prefer laughing to crying, unless they are tears of joy that ensue when you finally get past an agonizing condition or experience, such as the one I had while confined for a few months to hospital beds in Oklahoma and Texas.

How did you come up with Thin Diesel's little motivational messages? What happens when people can't pull themselves up by their own bootstraps anymore?

QUESTION #3: Thin Diesel is a character who comprises part of my personality. If you read my previous bodies of work, you will see that I habitually inject into my projects these bite-sized parcels of humorous, pun-fueled philosophies designed to motivate you to go for broke, to attain the prized goal that defines your purpose, transcending you beyond meat-and-potatoes subsistence, to an actualization mountaintop whose reward is spiritual in scope, where a healthy paycheck is simply a byproduct (because truly money can't buy happiness, otherwise so much of the well-to-do populace wouldn't be as spiritually or emotionally disabled as many among the economically distressed).

I use God's Word, humor and cartoons to remind people that God can get them where He purposes them to be. But even if you take away my humor tools and my illustrations, God is still right there, cheering you on, telling you He'll get you there as you trust in Him! In His word, He says that in OUR weakness lies HIS strength (2 Corinthians 12:9). That faith and trust is what compels you to overcome your troubles. I've seen the change God makes in the lives of the hopeless. It's really quite fascinating.

What do you think is lacking in modern society that leaves so many people vulnerable to depression and anxiety? Some folks have clinical conditions that cause these mental states and need medical treatment, but I'm more talking about people who go through dark moods and life struggles. How do you think we can begin addressing these problems?

QUESTION #4: Don't get me wrong. I believe in the benefits of medicine. One of God's disciples was named Luke - and he was a physician. Certainly our planet offers lavish provision from its vast wilderness-growth credenza, an eclectic array of ingestible products which aid in our mental and physical well being. But just as the Bible says we cannot live by bread alone, neither can we depend solely upon the abilities of modern medical advancement. We are human beings, crafted in the Image of our Creator. The global community we inhabit, unlike yesteryear, is now fraught with ever-evolving technologies, expectations and social philosophies that foster stress, strife and fear. Add to these elements mankind's reluctance to look to Him Who knows us better than anyone.

Our hearts are God-shaped and require constant spiritual nourishment that we don't feed it, instead offering it an unhealthy menu of all things contrary to what God says is good for us. This detrimental diet gives way to those elements which cause our mental/emotional/spiritual health to deteriorate to a milieu where darkness lurks. I know this to be true because, when I used to be depressed a great deal of the time. As they say, the struggle is REAL. And grossly disheartening. But one day I listened to The Heavenly Father when He told me I don't have to be depressed if I defer to Him. I did listen - and now I'm thrilled to say I don't become depressed anymore! Ever! I really don't. That's not to say life is all magical now or anything like that. I have my "MAN, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING MOMENTS???!!!" to be sure. But Christ has taught me that no matter what I think I see or feel or hear, HE is ALWAYS in control of EVERYTHING. If we could all truly get a good grasp of His proclamation in our hearts and minds, things would be so different in so many lives.

How did you decide to tell these characters' stories through a zine-like graphic novel? I mean, this could have been a standup routine, or a novella if you expanded the story. What attracted you to the graphic novel format?

QUESTION #5: Funny you should ask. I HAVE performed Christian standup comedy on TV and radio. And I do have a Christian-humor novel that will be coming out soon, entitled THE DIARY OF BRAN FRANK. But ever since I was a child growing up in Chicago, I've always had an affinity for drawing. I began making animated cartoons with my movie camera and projector starting at age 12. I even won an 8th-grade science fair and was sent to the district science fair with my entry, an animated film about energy production. It was a positively absurd premise, featuring a caveman clubbing a dinosaur into submission, to harness its strength for various chores before the advent of the wheel. In retrospect, I surmise I only won first place because the adjudicators were smitten with the enterprising spirit of a 14-year old, who'd manufactured an animated cartoon for the occasion.

In any event, history shows that cartoons are an extremely popular vehicle employed to convey any kind of story for any occasion. That includes stories that are spiritual in scope.

How do people tend to respond to your work? Do you have any interesting stories from people who came to hear you or who read your previous books?

QUESTION #6: Much to my delight, people seem to love what I do. I would never brag on myself because people who boast tend not to be as good as they think they are. But I'm getting great reviews on amazon.com instead of complaints. Yippee!!!!!! I love doing book signings as author/cartoonist cHicKEn dOOdLE sOuP. Okay, here are a few of may favorite instances concerning my work:

1) I wrote of book of Christian cartoons called MYLES A HEDD, under the pseudonym, The Man From A.N.K.L.E. What was so cool about that book is that my Indianapolis-based author representative liked it so much, she called me in Southern California to ask me if I would write a book with her! I was so incredibly honored!

2) Many years ago, prolific writer/producer/director/ author/Stephen J. Cannell really liked MYLES A HEDD, and consented to write a blurb for me to insert into one of my books that was to be forthcoming! What a pleasure to be complimented in such a manner by the now-deceased, Emmy-winning Hollywood luminary who'd created so many memorable TV series such as 21 JUMP STREET, THE A-TEAM, THE ROCKFORD FILES, THE GREATEST AMERICAN HERO and too many more to name here. Also, Movie-TV-star Rob Schneider (DEUCE BIGELOW, SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE) and "Mad Mike" of MTV's popular series, PIMP MY RIDE have offered me support. Mad Mike even wrote a review and did a video promotion for my last book, LOVE STEENX.

3). A woman recently read my current book, cHicKEn dOOdLE sOuP pREsEntS...STICK TO THE FUNNY STUFF!!! When she arrived at the final page, she told me how much she loved it...while shedding tears! Actual tears! I was touched beyond measure! That kind of reception is an author's dream and I will never ever forget that. Because I really was wondering if people would get it. They do and I thank God I can use laughter to point the way to Him. God bless you one and all. And hey, don't forget to go for your dreams like I am - as I STICK TO THE FUNNY STUFF!!!

Stick to the Funny Stuff can be ordered here from Iceberg Tony’s Used Denture Discounts.

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