#while also raising six kids as a single (widowed) mother

[anonymousdandelion]

This week in Cool Facts Dandelion Should Have Known Already: the Vilna Shas (the standard edition of the Talmud and commentaries that is still used today) was compiled and produced under the direction of a valorous woman named Devorah Romm.

#jumblr #judaism #jewish women #jewish history #herstory #talmud #devorah romm #she ran a printing business and oversaw the six-year process of one of the most impactful publications of jewish history #while also raising six kids as a single (widowed) mother #her name is literally printed on the inside cover of your typical volume of shas #Widow Romm and Brothers Romm #how did I not know about her #dandelion says

[cars-cause-why-not]

Post Cars 3 timeline (Human AU)

I'm gonna lay out what happens in my AU after the events of Cars 3. Fair warning, it gets pretty angsty and sad later on. (I'm so sorry in advance) Also, this post is really long.

(Note: I haven't planned out much with Cruz since I'm not sure who I ship her with yet so she won't appear much until I figure out what to do with her)

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

I'm gonna start somewhat before the third film in 2015. So right before the beginning of the 2015 season, Sally becomes pregnant with her and Lightning's first child. Fast forward, Sally gives birth to their son, Henry, the same night Lightning won his seventh Piston Cup. Henry is the splitting image of his father with a few differences.

Then the events of the third film play similar to the movie (except Doc is still alive in my AU). Lightning takes the 2017 season off to train Cruz and she wins the Piston Cup that year. After the season ends, Lightning and Sally finally get married. Over a year later, they have their second son, Mack, who heavily resembles his mother.

For about the next decade and a half, Lightning still races while being Cruz's crew chief. He still wins races and even wins an additional three Piston Cups. Doc officially retires due to age and health during this period, but is confident in Lightning's ability to be able to race without him. He's happy in retirement and focuses on being a grandfather. And with Cruz's help, Lightning and Jackson become a bit more friendly with each other (not friends, but friendlier).

While doing all this, Lightning's also balancing being a dad as well. About two years after Mack was born, Sally was assigned to a child neglect case involving a 3-year-old girl named Amari. Since she has no one to look after her, Lightning and Sally volunteer to take her in for the time being until the trial is over. However, they soon fall in love with her, and after the case is won, they officially adopt Amari as their daughter.

Two years after Amari is welcomed into the family, Lightning and Sally have their fourth and final child, another daughter named Sarah, who is a mix of both her parents. Their family now consists of 6-year-old Henry, 5-year-old Amari, 3-year-old Mack, and now Sarah. By this time, Lightning is 37 and Sally is 39.

For the next six years, Lightning and Sally manage to balance parenthood with their somewhat demanding jobs. Whenever he was back home in Radiator Springs in between races or the off-season, Lightning always made sure to spend time with his kids and he and Sally are loving, affectionate parents.

It's a pretty good life until Doc finally passes away. Lightning (and everyone else in RS) is devastated as the man who's basically been his father for the past 20+ years is now gone. However, he manages to overcome his grief and wins his ninth Piston Cup the same year.

But this is the point where it's starts to get really angsty.

About four years after Doc's death, and mid-way through the racing season, Sally is diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer. Initially, she responds well to the treatment, but near the end of the season, the treatment stops working and the cancer becomes terminal. Sally insists that Lightning finish the season for her and he does, winning his tenth and final Piston Cup the night of the final race.

A day later, Sally passes away at age 49, leaving Lightning a widower and single father. At this time, Henry is 16, Amari is 15, Mack is 13, and Sarah is 10. He announces his official retirement from racing and being Cruz's crew chief. He returns to Radiator Springs and manages the Cozy Cone Motel and Wheel Well Motel while raising his children. For the rest of his life, Lightning remains unmarried and never dates again.

Fast forward about nine years, Lightning’s older son Henry is now 24 and a racer in the Piston Cup under the number 91 (a combo of his dad’s and Doc’s numbers) with Lightning as his crew chief. Of course, there’s a lot of pressure on the younger McQueen cause he’s the son of Lightning McQueen and (unofficial) grandson of the Fabulous Hudson Hornet.

But like his father and grandfather, Henry is a good racer. Really good. So good that he wins his first Piston Cup his rookie year.

He wins it again the next year and again the year after that (you can probably see where this is going). Fans had a feeling that Henry McQueen would become one of the greats and maybe even surpass his father.

But sadly, Henry suffered a fate similar to his grandfather and namesake's. While trying to go for his fourth Piston Cup, Henry suffered a career-ending crash with his father watching.

But unlike Doc, Henry didn't survive the crash and died at age 27, a few weeks before his 28th birthday.

The racing world is devastated by this (especially older fans who still remember Dale Earnhardt's death). Another bright, shining star of the sport snuffed out too soon.

And Lightning? To say he was devastated is an understatement. After the funeral, he took a page out of Doc's book and left the racing world completely, even cutting ties with Cruz, Cal, Bobby, Brick, Dale Jr, Jackson, or anyone he knew from that world. He locks up his #95 and Henry's still-destroyed primary car that he wrecked in qualifying the day before he died in the garage of his old racing headquarters and doesn't touch them for a while. He becomes more reclusive and a lot grumpier and angrier. He still manages the Cozy Cone Motel & Wheel Well but does not interact with tourists much. He also refuses to go by Lightning anymore, instead just goes by McQueen.

But things don't get easier. In the years before and especially following Henry's death, Lightning also experienced the deaths of everyone who was in Radiator Springs when he first arrived. Mater was the last, dying about a year and a half before Lightning.

Lightning rarely appeared in public before and only made one return to the racing world three years after Henry's death, an event celebrating the 40th anniversary of the famous tiebreaker race and Doc's return to the racing world. There, he met Cruz, Cal, Bobby, Dale Jr, and Brick for the first time in several years. Deciding there was no time like the present, he apologizes to his friends for his behavior and they forgive him. For the last seven years of his life, they were still a part of his life even though he wasn't a part of the racing world.

However, despite all the loss and tragedy in this period, there are still bright spots. A few months after Henry's death, Lightning becomes a grandfather with the birth of his granddaughter Selina. Several more grandchildren follow in the years and he becomes a bit happier. But he's still pretty grumpy for the most part.

Lightning outlives Henry by ten years before finally dying at the age of 69, survived by his three surviving children. He's buried in the Radiator Springs Cemetary next to Sally, Henry, and the rest of his Radiator Springs family.

——————

And there you have it. I’m gonna do a separate post about what happens after Lightning’s death later when I get the details sorted out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this (and cried your eyes out)

#pixar cars #cars #cars human au #cars headcanons #humanized cars #cars fandom #I’m sorry for putting lightning through this #heavy angst

[mayanchild]

How To Get Emma Johnson Grant

Grant is an 11-year-old boy who lives with his single mother Emma in a small town in Illinois. Grant has always been a bright and energetic child, but he's had to deal with some tough obstacles in his life. When Emma johnson grant was just 3 years old, his parents died in a car accident. Grant was barely able to cope with the loss and struggled through his elementary school years. In high school, Kickass single mom grant found himself struggling with grades and struggles with identity. He felt like he didn't fit in anywhere and was constantly feeling left out.

One day, while browsing the internet, Emma came across a blog post about a widower who was looking for someone to take care of his two children for a few months while he worked on restoring his home. Emma saw that the children were around Grant's age and thought it would be a fun opportunity for him to get involved with other kids and make some new friends. After talking it over with Grant, Emma decided to apply for the job and was thrilled when she got accepted!

Since moving into the widower's home, Grant has finally found a place where he feels comfortable and connected. He now participates in after-school programs and sports leagues to connect with his new friends. Grant is also looking forward to starting middle school and getting back to his normal routine. Emma johnson single mother grant is grateful for the opportunities her son has been given and believes that everything happens for a reason.

Emma Johnson is a Single Mother Grant

Emma Johnson is a single mother who has faced many challenges in her life, but nothing has been tougher than raising her daughter on her own. Emma was born and raised in a household with six siblings, but when she became a single mother, she had to learn how to provide for her daughter on her own. Emma's story is an inspiration to all mothers who are struggling to raise children on their own.

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Emma Johnson’s Story

Single mother emma johnson grant has been through a lot in her short life. She was born into a family of six kids and when she was only 10 years old, her parents divorced. This led to Emma being raised by her mom and stepfather. Emma attended several different schools before finally settling down in high school. Unfortunately, her stepfather passed away just as she was starting to get used to having someone around who cared for her. After graduating from high school, Emma decided to go back to school and get her degree in psychology. Emma is currently a graduate student at the University of Utah and she recently gave birth to her first child, a son. Emma is currently working on getting her second degree so that she can become a therapist.

Emma's journey as a single mother has not been easy, but it has definitely been rewarding. She has learned how to be independent and she has also developed a strong bond with her son. Emma is currently looking for someone who can share in the responsibility of raising her son and hopefully help him develop into a healthy individual.

Reasons Why Emma Johnson Chose to be a Single Mother

Single mothers have a lot of advantages that most other parents don’t.

Emma johnson single mother grant

is a perfect example of this. Here are just a few reasons why she decided to become a single mother:

-Single mothers usually have more flexibility when it comes to work and family life.-They can dedicate more time to their children, which can result in better relationships between them and their children.-They often get more support from their families and friends, who are more likely to be understanding and helpful.

The Benefits of Being a Single Mother

When Emma Johnson became a single mother, she was faced with many challenges. But she found that the benefits of being a single mother outweighed the disadvantages. Emma provides some key reasons why being a single mother is beneficial:

1. A single mother has more time to devote to her child than a married parent. This means that the child receives more love and attention than if they were in a two-parent household.

2. A single mother can provide better care for her child than an average married couple. This is because the single mother has more flexibility in her hours and can work around her child's schedule.

3. It is easier for a single mother to connect with other parents who are also raising children alone. This allows her to find support and resources for parenting.

4. A single mother can establish closer relationships with other parents who have children of similar ages. This helps her to develop trust and communication skills when it comes to parenting.

The Challenges of Being a Single Mother

Being a single mother is hard. Emma johnson grant knows this all too well. Emma is a mother of two, and she has been through a lot in the past few years. Emma's kids are both young, and she doesn't have a lot of time to herself. Emma has to work full-time, and she also has to take care of her kids. Emma's situation is not unique, and it is definitely not easy. There are a lot of challenges that Emma faces as a single mother.

One of the biggest challenges that Emma faces is helping her kids develop a sense of independence. Emma wants her kids to be able to do things on their own, but she also wants to be there for them when they need her. It is hard for Emma to balance being a wealthy single mom grant and working full-time. However, she does it because she knows that it is important for her children.

Another big challenge that Emma faces is maintaining her relationship with her ex-husband. Emma divorced her husband several years ago, and they have since gone their separate ways. While they still see each other occasionally, their relationship isn't as close as it used to be. It is hard for Emma to maintain her relationship with her ex-husband when she is busy trying to take care of her kids. However, Emma knows that it is important for her to keep the relationship intact.

Overall, being a single mother is hard. There are a lot of challenges that Emma must face on a daily basis. However, she does it because she believes that it is the right thing to do. Emma is grateful for all the support that she has received from family and friends. She knows that they are there for her when she needs them, and she thanks them for their help every day.

Emma Johnson’s Advice for Future Moms

Emma Johnson single mother grant of three who has been through it all. In this blog post, Emma shares her advice for future mothers on the ups and downs of being a single mom.

Single parenting can be a challenging, but rewarding experience. Here are seven pieces of advice from emma johnson grant, a single mother of three:

1. Find support groups or online communities that will offer you support. There’s nothing like talking to other parents who have gone through what you are going through to give you hope and confidence.

2. Don’t be afraid to ask for help from family and friends. They may be hesitant at first, but once they understand your situation, they will be more than happy to lend a hand – and maybe even take on some of the childcare responsibilities!

3. Make time for yourself. As a wealthy single mom grant, you may feel like your time is constantly occupied by taking care of your children. But make sure to set aside some time each week to do something that you enjoy – whether that’s spending time with friends or going out for dinner with your partner. It can be really helpful to have some ‘time to recharge and focus on your own happiness.

4. Don’t be afraid to experiment with different parenting styles. There is no one ‘right’ way to parent, so experiment until you find a style that works best for you and your children.

5. Be prepared for the occasional meltdown – it happens to all parents at some point! Try not to take things too personally, and instead channel your frustration into productive activities such as taking a timeout or disciplining your child in a calm, rational manner.

6. Remember that parenting is a journey, not a destination. It will never be perfect, but with patience and perseverance, you can make it a great experience for both you and your children.

7. Above all else, remember that you are doing the best that you can – no one is perfect!

Conclusion

Emma Johnson single mother grant winner. Emma's story is about the importance of education and the power that comes with having knowledge. She has overcome many challenges in her life, including being homeless for two years as a teenager and raising her son on her own. Emma tells her story in hopes that others will learn from her journey and realize the importance of obtaining an education.

#emma johnson single mother grant #emma johnson grant #kickass single mom grant

[denimbex1986]

'Anyone looking to debate the limits of progress should cast an eye on 1980s Ireland. As a generation born in revolution and civil war moved from farms to towns, a middle class emerged. Some people had televisions; if they were good, some of their kids had Levi’s jeans. As certain things loosened, the Catholic church’s grip on most aspects of Irish life seemed to only grow tighter. Between 1922 and 1996, and aided by a callow state, the church was responsible for imprisoning tens of thousands of women (mostly young single mothers who couldn’t afford the child) into what was essentially indentured servitude. In these “laundries,” women worked seven days a week and weren’t allowed to leave. Their babies were taken from them and sold for adoption, or worse. Around 1,600 women died. The number of babies is estimated to be in the thousands.

The awful tragedy of those events and the way the nation wilfully looked away have inspired many writers and filmmakers––Peter Mullen in 2002 (The Magdalene Sisters), Joe Murtagh last year (The Woman in The Wall)––but few to the same acclaim as Claire Keegan’s softly stated, powerfully evocative 2020 novella Small Things Like These, which now gets the big screen treatment in Tim Mielants’ faithful adaptation. Starring a dogged Cillian Murphy and adapted by the playwright Enda Walsh, it premiered as the curtain-raiser of the 74th Berlin Film Festival––risking faintest of praise, it is the best film to do so in years.

Focusing on a coal merchant named Bill Furlong (Murphy), Keegan’s story approaches the Laundry’s horrors through the eyes of a man whose own mother only narrowly avoided them. That formative act of kindness—her employer, a widow named Mrs Wilson (played in flashback by Michelle Fairley), not only allowed Bill and his mother to carry on under her roof, but also helped raise Furlong after his mother’s untimely death—has instilled him with a fundamental kindness and protective spirit. Not least, it seems, for vulnerable kids: in an early scene, Mielants shows Furlong stopping his truck in the middle of the road to give a boy he knows some loose change. Furlong knows this will draw the scorn of his wife, the pragmatic Eileen (Eileen Furlong), with whom he has five daughters who are well-clothed and fed thanks to Furlong’s work. This involves delivering coal around the town of New Ross in the southeast of Ireland––a decent business it seems, even in trying times. One day, while out doing the rounds, he finds himself inside the doors of the local laundry and witnesses things that upset his equilibrium. In the spirit of Keegan’s sparse prose, we should probably not give much else away.

The challenge of adapting comes in finding ways to bring more subtle elements to screen without relying too much on exposition. While mostly succeeding in this, Melliant and Walsh use flashbacks to show Bill’s younger years––an understandable addition, though Small Things loses considerable steam sans Murphy’s presence. With notable patience, Mielants (who directed Murphy in six episodes of Peaky Blinders) allows the darkness to gradually seep in.

Born in a town outside Brussels, Mielants deserves credit for tackling such a shameful part of Irish history: Small Things gets at the lingering traumas with a clear sense of time and place. DP Frank Van den Eeden captures the overcast South East in not entirely unkind greys and browns. On Furlong’s rounds, we get a lovely recurring shot from on top of his battered delivery truck that gives an overview of the landscape. We also start understanding everything we need to know about him: the way he conducts his business, his generosity to his employees, the importance of the convent’s business to his livelihood, not to mention his family. As a barwoman informs him, “There’s only a wall separating that place from the school.”

Murphy, who developed the film with the producer Alan Moloney and his Oppenheimer co-star Matt Damon, gives a characteristically tender, interior performance as a man burdened with a conscious even heavier than his considerable knitwear. Unflappable as the icy Sister Mary, Emily Watson takes a scalpel to the kind of scenes a lesser actor would approach with an axe. Through small references (on a radio, we hear reports of the prizefighter Barry McGuigan), Meliants nods to the beginning of an era when Ireland’s national pride swelled. Seemingly going on little more than a gut feeling, Furling appears as a man unconvinced by it all––the irony is that it’s his Cristian upbringing that’s causing him to question. There are shades of Rust Cole in his performance, even Joe from You Were Never Really Here. There’s a few instances where Meliants shows him looking out from the coal shed, half-visible in the soot and fading light, a little war being waged in his head. To act or not to act––a small thing indeed.

Small Things Like These premiered at the 2024 Berlinale.

Grade: B+'

#Small Things Like These #Tim Mielants #Cillian Murphy #Berlinale #Berlin International Film Festival #The Magdalene Sisters #The Woman in the Wall #Claire Keegan #Enda Walsh #Michelle Fairley #Peaky Blinders #Frank Van den Eeden #Emily Watson #Oppenheimer #Matt Damon #Alan Moloney

[trojantoast]

Cold is the Night (Day One: Reunion)

 Zutara Week 2020

@zutaraweek

AO3

“Once he's gazed upon her, a man is forever changed

The bravest men return with darkened hearts and phantom pain

Ages come and go, but her life goes on the same

She lives to see the sun and feel the wind and drink the rain

Her colors change to mark the passing of the days

No Earthly sight can match the beauty she displays

And when I die I want her lying by my side

In my grave, in my grave”

- La Belle Fleur Sauvage (Lord Huron)

___

The arctic wind was bitter cold, but the sight of the Southern Water Tribe as he rounded the iceberg filled him with warmth. Unlike its northern sister, with its white, impenetrable walls. Only a wide harbor filled with ships and sea birds, separated the frigid ocean from the village.

 No great citadel greeted him, no sparkling palace. Yet, it was not the same tribe as years past. Gone were the huts and animal skin tents. A broad path in the snow led from the port to a neat cluster of igloos nestled at the snow covered foot of the mountains, cradled by a low wall. The only permanent settlement was the low rotunda of sculpted ice and snow that crowned the village. The home of the Southern Tribe winked with fire light in the eternal dawn.

Fire Lord Zuko breathed in the crisp, familiar scent of brine and metallic snow, as his cruiser dropped anchor in the harbor. In minutes his motor boat reached the shore, and his breath of fire was the only thing keeping him from shivering right out of his parka. Summer or not, Zuko was chilled to the bone. 

Three figures greeted him on the docks of ice. All were male, tall and broad. One broke away and as he grew closer his voice carried over the arctic wind, until he was only a few feet away.

“Gran Gran will be happy to see you wearing the parka she made you, though… the matching toboggan seems to be missing.”

Zuko smiled as he was enveloped into an embrace, “Hello, to you too, Sokka.”

The warrior gave him a quick squeeze and pulled back, his characteristic grin plastered on his face.  Zuko looked down at his previously mentioned navy blue parka. It was cut in the Fire Nation style, and lined with white fur. “Well, I couldn't refuse a gift from a foreign dignitary, especially one that was handmade for me.”

“Certainly not, parkas of that quality can take an entire winter to hand stitch. To have one made for you is a declaration of trust and allyship, sacred to our tribe.” Zuko looked up to the second Warrior, taller than Sokka, but narrower in the shoulders. The firebender bowed formally, 

“General Bato,”

There was a bark of laughter, and the third man joined the group, “General... that’s a good one.”

The tall warrior rolled his eyes, “What would you prefer, Hakoda, ‘Igloo-maker in Chief’?”

The leader of the southern Water Tribe threw his arm around the warriors shoulders and smiled, “As long as it's not my igloo.”

There was another round of chuckles, and Hakoda grasped Zuko’s forearm in a formal greeting.

“You really should take care of that parka. Bato’s not kidding, they do take all winter and you know how long those are around here.”

“I’ll be sure to express my gratitude to Kanna when I see her.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hakoda smiled softly, but his eyes turned more earnest, and he placed a strong hand on Zuko’s shoulder. The Fire Lord’s guards didn't even flinch. Snow swirled absentmindedly around the group in the moments before the chief spoke, “I believe we have some things to discuss.”

Zuko nodded, his hand dipping unconsciously into the pocket of his parka, “yes, we do.”

___

Talking could wait, apparently, as Zuko and the rest of his crew were loaded up into sleds (recently reintroduced to the tribe's way of life, after they finally had enough food to feed arctic dogs as well as themselves) and taken to the village. It was bigger up close, but barely larger than the smallest of villages in his home country. Children trailed after them, and Zuko smiled as Captain Jee sent little spirals of sparks, like fireworks, towards their awed faces. 

Sokka was giving him a very speedy tour, pointing out new landmarks and trying to explain who lived in what igloo, before they passed by in a shower of kicked up snow. The main gathering building of the tribe was circular and sprawling. Multiple branches and bubbles of different rooms peaked out of the drifts of snow. The ship's crew was taken to the temporary barracks to get cleaned up before the feast that the tribe's women had prepared. Zuko was led to the guest house he usually occupied on his visits.

Zuko tried to refuse any big ta-do about his arrival. It wasn't even an official visit. He knew that even if the tribe was quickly bouncing back after the war, that there wasn't much food to spare. However, the tribe members had been insistent, and he couldn't really argue. 

He followed Sokka around the backside of the rotunda to the igloos and huts that Chief Hakoda’s family and visitors used. 

He tried not to let his eyes drift to the home nestled between his and the chief’s. It’s doorway was dark, no smoke curled from its chimney, and from the snow drifted against the door, it had not been entered in a while.

That’s a good thing, he said to himself. 

He wasn’t very convincing.

“You know, I'm surprised you haven't asked about her yet.”

Zuko stilled at the door of his igloo, a now familiar place. He let his eyes linger on the other home.

“I know she’s not here, and that’s how I wanted it to be, so…” he trailed off.

“What has it been? Six months?” Sokka continued past him carrying Zuko’s trunk with little effort. He set it down by the large cot and bed roll. Zuko sighed and followed suit. The space was immediately warmer than the outside air. The curtain of a door settled behind him. 

“Seven… and three quarters.” He grabbed a tea kettle and set it on the small cooking fire at the center of the single room house. Sokka plopped down on the cushions around the pit, arranging them so he could comfortable lounge back.

“Hey, I haven't seen Suki in almost five months. I mean,” there was a grunt as Sokka removed his boots, “It's not quite the same, since me and Suki are technically married and you guys…” Sokka seemed to struggle for the right thing to say. In the meantime Zuko removed his own boots and parka, which had grown hot, and ran a hand through his unbound hair. He had kept it roughly the same length for the past five years. 

“We agreed that this was the best thing for everyone. Katara’s where she's needed, and so am I.” Sokka raised a critical brow, but just shrugged.

“And, I'm sure your visit here has nothing to do with ‘being where you're needed’” Zuko shot him a withering look. Sokka had the decency to look sheepish.

“Hey,” the warrior raised his hands in surrender, “I only speaking the truth.”

Zuko wasn’t quite ready to face the truth.

He wasn’t ready, because the truth frightened him. It kept him up at night. It made him lose focus in meetings and it made him count the days between every time he saw her. He knew the truth, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“Well, buddy, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Zuko looked up from inspecting the tea pot, and smiled, ever so slightly, 

“Me too.”

___

The meal was no feast or ball, but the entire village gathered in the largest and center-most room of the rotunda. The tribe’s numbers, with it’s warriors returned, and half a decade of peace, had grown to nearly 200. Yet, the room didn’t seem cramped as everyone piled onto cushions around low dining tables. Even when Zuko’s crew and personal guards (who where only there on principle, Zuko had never felt safer than among the Southern Water Tribe), joined the company, the crowded space felt comfortable and warm.

Zuko had been placed in the seat of honor, at the left hand of chief Hakoda, and the right hand of Kanna, the chief's mother, and the village’s elder. As per tradition, the youngest of the group and the unmarried women served the rest of the tribe before eating. Sokka told him once, that the action was to reinforce loyalty and represent how they serve their tribe first, until they marry, or become adults. 

The food was traditional water tribe cuisine, made by collective effort of the women, both married and unmarried, of the tribe. 

Platters of roasted fish, and savory rein-caribou meat was served, alongside various stews and cooked greens. sea prunes, clams, and other crustaceans were also distributed. The food, like the tribe who made it, was hearty. It was salty, and fatty, and so unlike the hot spices and complicated recipes of his Zuko’s homeland. The Fire Lord hadn’t had a meal as delicious in a long time. 

The room was filled with chattering voices and laughing children, muffled by the animal pelts and cushions they all lounged on. Everyone had striped their outer clothes off, and the parkas joined the piles of furs surrounding the group. People moved from table to table, catching up on the day's activities and trading jokes and stories. The older warriors took special interest in comparing notes with his crew on sailing techniques. Every member of the tribe, from the oldest widow, to the mother’s with their tiny babies, came to Zuko’s table and greeted him formally. Zuko gave them a warriors handshake or a bow, according to their age. Some of the children brought him tiny, crude, carvings of bone, made in the shapes of animals or people. In return, he bestowed a carefully wrapped cake from the satchel at his side into their tiny hands. The pastries were crunchy on the outside and impossibly soft on the inside; shaped like lotus flowers. They were straight from the royal kitchens, and Zuko pretended not to notice when they came back for seconds. 

Zuko barely had time to eat the food that had been piled onto his plate, between greeting the tribe, and joining into the discussions at his own table, but he made do. 

“So, young man,” Zuko turned from giving a little girl her third pastry, to Kanna. The older woman had finished her bowl of stew, and was now working on the delicate and complex embroidery on a deep blue parka. “What is it you plan to do with all those carvings the children are giving you?”

Zuko smiled, and turned to look at the small army of animals he had absentmindedly arranged in rows next to his table setting. 

“I’ll probably put them with the others. I have a glass bureau in my office that holds some of the gifts I’ve received from other dignitaries. The children’s carvings have their own shelf.” The carvings had become a sort of tradition every time he came to visit. 

She chuckled, it was a rumbling, gravelly sound, “I can’t imagine these next to the rich items you must get.”

Zuko picked up the carving closest to him. It was a black wolf-whale. The little boy who had given it to him, had charred the bone to mimic the pattern of black and white splotches of the animal in real life. 

“Yeah, but these are my favorite.”

He ran his hands along the upright fin on its back.

Kanna smiled quietly to herself and returned to her embroidery.

Slowly, as the night went on, the children grew tired, and their parents bid last goodbyes to the members of Zuko’s table. And as the kids were rebundled up and carried, sleepily, back to their own homes, the rest of the village filed out as well. The younger men and women left in groups, or pairs, laughing heartily together, to spend time among themselves. The widows and widowed warriors bore their own farewells. Soon, even the village elders grew sore of sitting and talking and eating, and went their own ways, wishing the guidance and protection of the spirits in the dreams of their chief, his family, and the Fire Lord. 

The dishes had been cleared away much earlier in the night, so when Hakoda led them into a hall toward a small study, they left the gathering room quiet and empty. 

Zuko rose from his seat, and extended his elbow to Kanna, who excepted it with a pat to his for arm and a smile. 

“Such good manners.” She praised. Zuko felt himself blush.

The adjacent room was furnished with low couches and a stone fireplace that peaked out of the white ice walls. More thick pelts lined the floor. Zuko recognized the large maple shelves and desk as those he gifted Hakoda himself, made of the finest Fire Nation lumber. 

Sokka, Kanna, Bato, and Zuko all settled into the couches, as the Chief pulled out a dark blue glass bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk. He poured each member of the group a drink of the clear liquid, before he sat another one of the couches, instead of his high backed desk chair. 

Zuko took a sip, and tried not to wince as the alcohol burned his throat. Immediately, he was warmer than before. He watched the others. Zuko knew what was coming.

Hakoda took a very slow sip of his drink, and turned to the firebender.

“I’m assuming you didn't sail all the way down to the South Pole to take in the scenery.”

Zuko swallowed, as they all turned their attention to him.

“No, no I didn't.” he took another drink, stealing his nerves, then placed the glass down. 

“Me and Katara have discussed it, at length.” Zuko found that Kanna’s stare was level and calm, he felt reassured. “She thinks it’s the best thing for us, and I agree.” Zuko looked around the room.

“We want, no… we're going to get married.”

Zuko didn’t know what reaction he would receive. He had been obsessing over what Katara’s family would say, what they would do, since the idea of marriage first entered his mind. He expected it would involve being forcefully thrown into the arctic ocean. The sensible part of his mind knew there was nothing to worry about, since almost immediately after him and Katara had announced their courtship her family, and her tribe, had taken him in as one of their own (Bato had even teased them about step-grand children). Yet, the other voice in his head still haunted him with fears of rejection. But, Hakoda only sat up, placed his glass down, looked into Zuko’s eyes, and waited for him to continue.

So Zuko did.

“We know that it’s not going to be easy. We know that it will be dangerous. We know that we each have responsibilities and duties, and I respect hers and she respects mine. We’ve been considering it for a while now, and it's what we both want. I know that relations between my nation and yours, are...tense, but they're getting better, and there's people where I’m from that won’t like it, but I think that together, we can show that the four nations can coexist and that the Fire Nation cares about reperatio-”

Hakoda held up a hand, Zuko went silent, he swallowed again. 

The chief looked deep into his eyes, Zuko didn't break the contact.

“I don’t care what your union means politically. I don’t care what message it will send to the other nations, what message it will send for your people, son. I just want to know one thing.”

“Anything.” 

“Do you love her?”

Immediately, he answered, “Yes,” his hand settled on his chest, between his two lungs, where he knew the scar sat, “with all my heart.”

Zuko looked around the room, each pair of bright blue eyes were fixed on him. 

“I don’t know when I started to, maybe it was the day of the comet, maybe before, maybe after, but when I asked her to come with me to fight my sister and regain my throne, I knew it had to be her that came. I love Katara, but before that, I trust her. I trust her with my life. I trust her with my people and my country. I would die for her.”

Zuko felt it then, the ghost of the pain, the exhilaration, the fear as he watched Azula take aim. “Taking that lightning was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I would do it again, ten thousand times over.”

Bato spoke next, “And she feels the same way?”

Zuko thought, for a second, replaying the last five years in his mind. The image that lingered in his mind was the flashes of blue fire through clear water as she battled Azula, risking her life to defeat the most dangerous firebender in the world, just to save him.

He smiled, gently, “Yes, I know she does.”

Kanna’s face was stone, “You swore an oath to serve your people and your country? Is that correct Fire Lord Zuko?”

He nodded. The elder looked him in the eye. He felt like she was looking deep into his soul.

“In our culture, the marriage vow outweighs any oath to lord or land. Katara must come first, before your throne, before your crown. The binding of two souls is far more ancient than any border or king, as old as the very first marriage of the spirits Tui and La. The promise you will make to each other trumps any other loyalty, and will last beyond your last breath, into the next life. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” he instinctively reached into his pocket, “The only reason Katara doesn't know I’m here is because she would say that asking for permission from the bride's family was an outdated tradition” Sokka smirked at that, “but I also know how much your good opinion means to her, and I don’t want to hide anything from you.

“I want to do this by the book, so I’m here, to ask you personally,” he looked from person to person, “do me and Katara have your blessing for our union?”

There was silence in the room. No one moved. Zuko barely breathed. 

Then Kanna rose, slowly. Instinctively Zuko moved to help her but she held up a withered hand and crossed over to him.

“Kneel, and close your eyes.”

Zuko did. 

He felt her brush her fingers across his forehead. 

“Now,” he looked up, “I, Kanna, matriarch of the Southern Water Tribe, mother to Hakoda, grandmother to Sokka and Katara, grant you my blessing, and the blessings of the spirits for your union.” She looked behind her, “Does anyone present of the bride's family object to the bestoying of the blessing?”

The only response was Sokka’s wide grin. Kanna nodded, and returned to her seat. Zuko stood, he couldnt hid the joy on his face, he bowed, low, to each person in the room.

“So,” Hakoda dawned a smile for himself, “have you carved the necklace?”

___

Later that night, Sokka walked Zuko back to his igloo. After Zuko’s announcement there were multiple rounds of celebratory drinks, and the pair was distinctly drunk. The southern warrior threw his arm around the other man’s shoulders as they neared the entrance.

“You know, Zuko…” He burped, “we all knew it was a matter of time before you asked her. Dad just put you through all those formalities to make you sweat.”

Zuko chuckled, “Well, it worked.”

His friend, and soon to be brother-in-law, turned to him, seriously, "You also have to know Zuko, that if Katara was here she would object to you asking us not just because it's and 'outdated tradition' but because there's no question that our answer would be 'yes'."

The Fire Lord looked at the ground, "I just... wanted to be sure."

Sokka shook his head, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder, "We love you, Zuko. Everyone does. Honestly, I think Gran-gran likes you more than me, which hurts, but whatever," he shrugged, "bottom line, your an important part of this family, and you were long before you an Katara started sucking face." Zuko couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, 

"I know, but sometimes it's hard, I'm not used to the whole 'unconditional love' stuff." he looked back, across the shining tops of the tribe, "you all just make it look so...easy."

Sokka laughed, "Yeah, tell that to dad the next time I loose blueprints." 

He ruffled Zuko's hair, and returned to his position leaning on him.

“So, when are you formally popping the question?”

Zuko’s eyes traveled over to Katara’s igloo next door, then to the lights of the harbor beyond, and the twinkling stars and moon reflected in the still water. 

“She comes back from Ba Sing Se in three weeks, so I figured as soon as she got home.”

Katara’s brother nodded, then grasped each of Zuko’s shoulders, making him look into his eyes, “That means you're staying long enough for bro time?” his brow was furrowed in absolute seriousness. 

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

___

!!PLEASE REBLOG WITH THOUGHTS AND CRITICISMS!!

You guuuuuuys... it’s officially Zutara Week!!! YEE HAW!!!

Anyway, I’m sorry there was only indirect Katara in today’s submission. That will be rectified tomorrow. My plan for this year (though I haven't followed any plan for Zutara Week yet) is that all of my submissions will be apart of a linear narrative. It starts with today’s prompt, five years after the war, and goes from there. All of the submissions can be stand alone, but thay can also all be tied together. The only day that won’t follow this is Day Three: Celestial. I really love that particular one so its special. All of this could change, so don’t quote me on that. I hope you enjoyed :D

P.S. I’ll be tagging all my Zutara Week submissions for this year #ems zkw2020 

#ems zkw2020 #Zutara week #zutara week 2020 #zutara #Zuko and Katara #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #Zuko #katara #sokka #hakoda #bato

[lostatseattle]

FUTURE MASTERLIST

if anyone wants to know, where everyone’s at/been is under the cut!

tw: addiction, mental illness, miscarriage, death

carina deluca, 42, OB/GYN attending and research assistant at sgmw.

carina hasn’t left seattle for very long since present time. for a time, she went back to sicily to be with her father as he suffered a particularly damaging breakdown. she cared for him in his fragile state for almost a year before returning to her position at sgmw. she brought her father with her and he lived with her up until a year ago when he decided to fly back to italy with little to no warning. she realised then that she could not stop him living his life, and he wasn’t her responsibility. they still keep in touch regularly, just to make sure nothing is terribly wrong. because of her father’s presence in her life she has had little by way of a romantic life, bar a few casual hookups. she doesn’t mind much as it has given her time to focus on her continued research in neurological pleasure centres. aside from this, she has been the acting gynaecologist to many of seattle’s finest, past and present. 

 rumour has it she was almost shortlisted for a harper avery a few years ago, but the subject matter was challenged and she missed out. not that she would have accepted it anyway, as the institution hasn’t historically aligned with her viewpoint. she is attending the dinner this year as a means to build her connections.

cristina yang, 38, co-chief of cardiothoracic surgery at sgmw.

once cristina completed her fellowship, she took on a position as a cardiothoracic attending for a few years but grew impatient. she believed she wasn’t benefiting or growing in the environment and applied for positions at other hospitals. she was offered a position as chief of cardio in new york and, despite warnings that she would hate it, she left. less than six months later she returned to her position as an attending and would like no one to mention the blip every again, thank you.

a few months after her return, she was appointed co-chief of cardio at sgmw, dividing the work load and allowing herself and andrea to have more time for surgeries. despite having a home five minutes away, she is staying at the hotel before the dinner because she would like to live her dramatic widow fantasy standing on the balcony in a bathrobe she doesn’t own. and because she’ll probably get drunk on complementary champagne.

also, she filed for divorce from owen shortly after present time.

eleanor sharma, 40, full time professor at ucla.

eleanor took well to life in seattle and she planned to stay there long term. but disaster struck and left her brother a widow so she left to live with him in california. her parents have been encouraging her to get married for years now, but she is quite happy living the single life. aside from that, she is helping to raise her niece, priya. to have more time for her family, she quit surgery and took up a full time job as a professor. she loves it and, aside from her sister-in-law’s tragic death, she is happy with where she has ended up. 

gwen sadler-mills, 50, head of trauma in miami, FL.

gwen and joanna managed to fully reconcile and a couple of years after present time they became engaged. although, mentally they had been engaged for a while already. the decision to move back to miami came after the death of joanna’s mother, mostly due to the fact that they both missed home a great deal - but also because gwen was gradually overcoming her fear of having another child. after a lot of talking they decided to try one round of IVF. it worked, but unfortunately did not carry to term and joanna suffered a miscarriage. after that grief had settled, they decided to adopt. jude and scarlett sadler-mills entered the equation two years ago and they live in a modest four bedroom house with their dogs nova and scotia - ironically named until that was the only thing the latter would respond to.  

max walker, 38, rock musician.

max was fired from her job two years after present time, which was ridiculously long for her all things considered. she was caught having sex with a new intern in the copy room and a whole host of discrepancies came to light soon after. she moved back to los angeles and took up various menial jobs until she found a place at a record shop in hollywood. short after she joined a band with her new friends called the six pastels - the logic being that, should anyone try to look up the sex pistols and misspell it, they would come across their band instead. although it didn’t quite work that way, they eventually managed to get signed by a record label and found moderate success. but in typical max fashion, success wasn’t easy. she ended up with a DUI and entered rehab for six months.

not that it worked very well. after that stint, she ended up having a string of one night stands - one of which left her pregnant. wanting a change, she took a hiatus from her career and moved to new york to give birth to her son, axel. it was there that she reconnected with her old friend, rosalie lincoln. she knew just how to feed into max’s messy, unpredictability, and max wanted her son to have more parents than she ever had. 

lately, max has been feeling disjointed and unfulfilled. she is back in seattle to see her siblings and to have some time away from being a mother and a songstress to reevaluate what she needs in life. debatable whether she will have a big revelation or dig herself into a hole so deep she can’t escape. 

thomas donovan, 44, (soon to be retired) firefighter in north carolina.

since appearing in seattle, thomas steadily started to come into his own again. he seemed more relaxed, less inclined to shut himself away and regained some of his sense of humour. broody silences weren’t at the top of his to-do list any more. he’d rather cook a meal than grab a beer when he got home from his shift. he made friends with those at station 19 and became a valued member of the firehouse. amongst all of this great character development, he reconnected with lucy. it was casual at first, both of them probably wary about their history, until lucy accidentally got pregnant and they both decided to throw caution to the wind and move in together. they aren’t married, nothing was ever actually made official, but living together and raising a kid seem good enough signs. 

thomas is there because lucy is, but his mind isn’t on any award. his mind is on the ring in his pocket and the hand he wants it to be on...

#yes it's alphabetised #future. #i'm sorry that's such an aggressive tag #stream the six pastels for clear skin

[turqrambles]

I watched all 26 episodes of an obscure Australian cartoon in one week and I’m not okay - My journey with Wicked! (2001) PART 1

Here it is, the reason I started this blog in the first place. I need to talk about this cartoon I ran into completely by chance. 

It all started, like you would, with Tubitv.

Good ol’ Tubi, the free streaming service that makes you either an expert at being able to find diamonds in piles of garbage or a connoisseur of said garbage. It’s thanks to Tubi that I put down that I watched Alpha and Omega: Family Vacation on Letterboxd for all to see and judge, but it’s also thanks to Tubi that I finally ended up watching Killer Klowns from Outer Space.

Anyhoo, one day I was browsing their family film selection when I ran into this selection. And that was the day my life changed forever.

What you see before you, posted to a streaming service accessible in the United States, is the movie adaptation of an Australian TV show that never made it to the United States, which is based off a series of Australian children’s books from the 90′s that also never made it to the United States. It made it to other territories like Germany and the United Kingdom (and it apparently did super well in France but don’t quote me on this) but the TV show ran for one year and then disappeared without a trace after one 26 episode season.

How obscure is this franchise? Well, for starters, at the time I’m writing this in 2020, the books, the TV show, and the movie all don’t have a single Wikipedia page to call their own, and the easiest way to get info about this thing is to find the (rather tiny) TvTropes page. 

Let’s just get right into this shall we.

What is Wicked!?

Before you try to be all cute and make any references to the hit musical, there’s a reason I’m putting that exclamation mark there.

Wicked! started out as a series of six children’s books written by Paul Jennings and Morris Gleitzman. I actually grabbed a kindle copy of all six books (because I’m in this thing too deep and I wanted to see how the cartoon compared with the source material) and I gotta say, they’re very charming.

The best way I can describe them is that they’re in the kid horror genre, but they’re less Goosebumps and more The Weenies book series by David Lubar in terms of gore and child endangerment. Wicked! has some artful depictions of blood and gore, but in a way that can be digested by the grade school crowd.

Being a former child, I can proudly proclaim that I would’ve adored this series when I was younger. Just look at these covers!

The plot of the books is that there’s a widower with a daughter and a divorced wife with a son who get married, and the two new step-siblings Rory and Dawn absolutely hate each other. They can’t stand the fact that their parents are getting married! Gross!

But then, on the day of their wedding, creepy things begin to happen after Rory receives an appleman doll in the mail, and then, over the course of six books, a deadly single-minded virus that feeds on hate and is targeting Rory’s bloodline begins to spread across wildlife, creating crazed mutant animals that try to kill everyone in the household. It’s up to Rory, Dawn, and Dawn’s grandfather Gramps to stop this virus before it kills Rory and his mother, and to do so, they have to seek out Rory’s father, who seems to be the mysterious cause and/or the solution to the virus.

I’m not sure how well these books did, on account of the whole “not Australian” affliction I seem to suffer from, but they seemed to do well enough to get a TV show adaptation.

And surprisingly, the TV show is a very close adaptation of the books, only they changed the plot in two big ways so that it fits an animated series with a “monster of the week” setup.

The first big change was that, of course, they toned down the blood and gore and removed the deadliness of the virus, choosing to go with a more cartoony mutagenic approach. Rory gets infected by the virus several times in the show, just like how he does in the books, but unlike the books, he never thinks that he’s going to die from it and it’s definitely treated as a more temporary thing. There’s no race against time either. Everyone is trying to live their lives except every so often, the virus shows up. A wacky cartoon virus with cartoony stakes.

That brings me to the other main change that they make in the show. Unlike the books, where the main villain is a mindless virus that feeds off of hate, an invisible foe that can only be defeated at the end of the last book with the help of Rory’s father, the TV show decides that that’s no fun and instead makes a main villain out of one of the main plot points in the books. Say hello to The Appleman. (Apple-Man? Apple Man? Fuck it, I’m going with the first one from now on)

Instead of having the virus mutate mysteriously and having the main characters constantly hypothesize what’s going to happen next, the TV show made a main villain who constantly reinvents new strains of virus in a laboratory that he set up in an abandoned refinery.

What then happens is a basic plot set-up that the show follows pretty consistently in every episode. The family is trying to do something, we get the theme for the episode, and The Appleman, who is a spiteful bastard who is trying to ruin this one family in particular (and I’ll get to that), decides to make a virus that will infect the theme of that episode.

Pretty standard cartoon stuff, right? Ah, but then you don’t realize the beauty of this show. But first, I gotta introduce the main stars of this show.

The Characters

(quick note: this bus is incredibly important to the plot, but only in the books)

First we have Rory (the boy holding up the tin) and Dawn (the mad red head).

Dawn is the step-sister who lost her mom, a bus driver, in a gruesome bus accident, Rory is the step-brother whose parents got a divorce and then his dad went missing, believed to have run away from his whole family. Both of them are meant to be the dual protagonists, but I feel that there’s just a tiny bit more focus on Rory. There’s a reason for this that I will mention later.

What is interesting to note is that they make Rory the smart, non-athletic little nerd that gets picked on a lot at school for being a dork while Dawn loves sports, is failing science, gets made fun of for not being as girly as the other girls in her class, and likes violent computer games. I wouldn’t exactly call them “fleshed out” but they did enough to make these kids feel like actual kids.

Also, they fight. Constantly. This is the main complaint of anyone who actually looks into this show judging by my brief skimming of Internet comments because these two constantly bicker and insult each other and that makes up like 40% of the dialogue in any given episode. While this is one of the main story conflicts and they’re like this in the books too, it just feels super exhausting to see these two constantly at each other’s throats in every single episode.

They get mean too. Which, surprisingly, makes them both more realistic (I babysat multiple times and kids can be pretty verbally awful to each other) while also making them just a tiny bit unbearable at times. Here’s some actual dialogue.

"My dad sent it to me!" "Gee, he must think a lot of you to send you a doll full of worms." "Your mum thought so much of you she drove this bus over a cliff and into the river to get away from you."

GEEZ, guys...

Eileen, Rory’s mom.

It feels out of the three adults in the family, she gets the least amount of character development, but she does get a fair amount of screentime, so you can’t really say they’re intentionally ignoring her. She divorced her previous husband and works as a mail courier. Instead of owning a car, she drives a motorcycle, and, in the first episode, even drives it to her own wedding while dressed in a bridal gown. Rory’s mom rules.

She tries to bond with Dawn because she always wanted to raise a daughter, but Dawn clearly doesn’t like her new stepmom very much. Dawn is also afraid of the motorcycle and it comes up a couple times in the show.

Eileen is the adult that gets targeted the least by The Appleman’s schemes. There’s a very pointed reason for this, and I swear, I’m getting to it soon.

(quick note: yes, the show uses real photos to put in picture frames in the backgrounds and it’s real weird and never addressed)

Jack, Dawn’s dad.

Jack is a sheep shearer, just like in the books, and he’s a big easy-going dope that is hard not to love. Look at him hammer in this carpet. A true champ.

Out of the three adults in the family, he seems to be the one that nearly dies the most, with The Appleman going out of his way to specifically target Jack in some episodes. If you know Appleman’s backstory, this reads as absolutely petty spite and I love every minute of it.

Gramps, Dawn’s grandfather and Jack’s dad.

He’s an aging WWII veteran (one that has killed people in combat no less) who radiates constant Boomer vibes and, unlike Eileen and Jack, he actually sees some of the crazy shit that happens and will sometimes sense when something is infected with virus when the other two adults can’t.

In the books, he’s suffering pretty badly from dementia, but thankfully the cartoons drop that completely. I’m glad too, because I don’t have the confidence that they would’ve written it with enough sophistication to make it not seem ableist. Instead, he’s just your typical kooky cartoon grandfather.

He’s probably the adult that gets the most screentime because he will actually help Dawn and Rory out. Again, this ties into the books, where he was the main adult ally for the kids.

He says a lot of army-themed catchphrases. It’s a tad overplayed but it never really gets to a point where I would call it “annoying”. Also, instead of living in the house, he lives in a tiny granny flat on the property. Sometimes Rory spends the night there.

Last but not least, we have the star of the show, and the reason why the easiest way to find information of this show is to google “Wicked The Appleman”.

The Appleman, as explained, is the main villain of the story. Dressed in a very fancy suit complete with dress shoes and a nice blue tie, he lives in an old refinery full of rats, bats, and giant worms (called Slobberers), and he’s rocking a voice that can be best described as “Australian Mark Hamil” with an absolutely heavenly evil laugh. He has gross clawed hands, a rotten apple for a head, and likes making people miserable, because he’s basically the living puppet for a virus that feeds off of negative emotions. The main goal of each episode is to either defeat him or to stop the mess he’s made. Usually both.

Since all of his minions are non-sentient animals, a lot of his dialogue is him lurking behind something while he monologues to himself, sometimes turning it into a creepy little rhyme. He’s a pretty lonely guy, so him hanging out with this family can be seen as a very non-subtle cry for help.

The best episodes are the ones where he tries to lurk about in public with a very poor attempt at disguising his hideous features. Somehow it always works, you know, despite the fact that he has yellow eyes, the skin like a moldy apple, and no ears.

What Makes Wicked! Unique

(no, The Appleman doesn’t actually use that axe)

The first thing this show does that most of the formulaic shows don’t do is that it does, in fact, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. That’s why this show was packaged into a full-length movie - you can glue scenes together and actually make a pretty decent narrative, even if the resulting movie definitely had a “glued together TV show episodes” feel ala some of the bad Disney sequels like Cinderella II and Atlantis II. 

This show even has some plot-heavy episodes that dive into just why this whole Appleman situation is going on and why he seems to have it out for this one family in order to flesh out the characters more.

Because that’s a thing that this show does. The Appleman is a cartoon-y villain who cackles in his lab and constantly invents new strains of viruses that can mutate things like animals and household appliances, but he doesn’t do it to take over the city or to “destroy the world”. He does it purely to inconvenience this one Australian family, who he stalks pretty regularly. This is a thing that comes from the books and honestly, it’s a thing that elevates Appleman from “ugly-looking cartoon villain” to “pretty damn creepy, if also still cartoony in execution”.

Sure, a lot of cartoon villains target the main protagonist in their evil schemes, but this one is definitely more personal.

He regularly follows Rory and Dawn to school and, when the family goes on a camping trip, he comes too. If Rory decides he’s going to hang out in the wrecker’s yard, The Appleman will be cackling and hiding behind totaled vehicles. If Gramps takes the kids out to the bay to go fishing, The Appleman will pull an ice cream truck out of his garage and follow them there. That’s how the main conflict is really set up.

I think if a scarier cartoon tried, they’d make him out to be this grotesque stalker, but instead, since this show is kinda goofy in execution, he’s like the shittiest cryptid in the world, constantly crouching behind trash cans and on top of rooftops while constantly cackling about how clever he is and how, miraculously, no one notices anything’s amiss.

This alone would make this villain interesting, but then they set up something about this show at the beginning if you watch the intro and the first episode and put two and two together.

Right from the start, the opening shows that The Appleman was once human by depicting his transformation by the virus. They don’t even try and pretend that he’s some demon or some sort of supernatural monster - he’s specifically a blue collar worker who had a nasty run-in with fate and mutated into this hideous apple-headed creature that now has to hide out in an abandoned refinery. You see why he’s dressed like that - he’s still wearing his work uniform.

Right after you watch that intro, the first episode of the show has Rory receiving a mysterious package from his father on the day of his mother’s wedding. It’s the first time that Rory and his mom Eileen have heard from their dad after he mysteriously vanished years ago. 

What’s inside? An apple-headed doll, which contains the first virus-infected monsters, The Slobberers.

When The Appleman makes his first dramatic appearance, he never says Dawn’s name, but he does know Rory’s name.

And, in case you didn’t pick up the hints from the first episode, the fourth episode really drives it home without spelling it out. Then the last episode of the series decides to say it out loud.

That’s right. Rory’s father, the man who mysteriously vanished from Eileen and Rory’s lives, is still an important part of the cartoon’s storyline, but instead of being the man who appears in the last book that knows how to cure the virus while also being the first victim of the virus, he’s the main antagonist.

The Appleman is Rory’s father.

And honestly, because of this little plot point, this show becomes a much richer experience once you look at the unhinged appleman who keeps unleashing horror on these kids and realize that he’s a divorced dad who constantly keeps tabs on his ex-wife's unstable dysfunctional family in order to make them more pissed at each other because that feeds the virus that mutated him.

This is a very cool concept. This is where Wicked! shines when, for all intents and purposes, it is otherwise a pretty average turn-of-the-century Australian cartoon that can be best described as “it’s okay, I guess” in terms of quality.

Because that’s really the rating I can give this show. It’s Okay.

It’s a very solid Okay, but I think any adjective more powerful than “Okay” is really pushing it. It’s not Great, it’s not Amazing. It’s Okay. Alright. Kinda Good.

But man, is it a wild ride.

Next time, I’m going to start discussing the actual episodes as well as this show’s pros and cons. Dividing this up into multiple parts partly because I feel like these things are more easily digested in smaller chunks and partly because I’m pretty sure tumblr now has a size limit on posts soooo...yeah.

Follow this handy link for Part 2 - The Actual Review!

#Turq watches a cartoon #Wicked! (2001) #Wicked! #The Appleman #Turq Reviews

[supernaturalee]

Green and Gold: Part 1 - Gwilym Lee x Reader

Pairings: Widow/Single Father! Gwilym Lee x Reader

Warnings: Deceased wife/mother, slight angst/sadness, and Karen. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: When Gwilym lost his wife two years ago he feared raising his daughter alone in a small coastal New Jersey town would be difficult. In the two years since her death, Gwil and Brianne are finally ready to start moving on. Following the words of a child psychologist, Gwil signs Bri up for cheerleading with the local youth squad, something Gwil knows nothing about. As he is thrust in the world of cheer bows and back handsprings, he will learn it takes a lot more than green and gold uniforms to mend his and his daughter’s hearts. Hopefully through the squad they will find strength, friendship, and possibly a spark of new love for the widow himself.  

Taglist:@the-baby-bookworm 

Author’s Note: So a lot of this series will come from stories of my own childhood as a youth cheerleader. It is really near and dear to my heart. I really hope you enjoy it and please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments. 

Gwilym sipped his morning cup of tea as he enjoyed his few moments of peace and quiet in the hour before Brianne was awake. The ingredients for her lunch, laid in front of him as he placed the union jack mug down, a gift from his mate Ben. Today was Wednesday, which meant it was ham and cheese wraps with carrots, pretzels, and a gogurt. As he started making her lunch, he realized tonight was the first night of her cheerleading practice. He let out a breath as he rolled up the wraps before packing the snacks into the purple lunchbox. Filling her water bottle, placing it all in her backpack.  He took out her homework from the night before, looking over her math and then her English. She was a smart kid, smarter than he had been in his fifth year. Gwilym believed it was all from Angela, she was brilliant and that showed in Brianne. 

It was a humid September morning in the small town along the New Jersey coastline. The tall Welshman grimaced at the thought of another overly warm day with no promise of rain. Sometimes when he longed for the gray skies that England promised him, he would remember the excitement in Angela’s voice as she spoke about the town of her childhood. The way her brown eyes would go wide with joy as she told him of the wonderful memories she had of that place and how she longed to raise her own family there. It had actually been decided when she told him she was pregnant that they would move back to her hometown to raise their incoming child. It also didn’t hurt that his company had offered him a large raise and the covering of moving expenses to take over a better position in their New York office. So the young couple moved transatlantically and settled in a small two story home not far from Angela’s own childhood home. It had been a happy homecoming for Angela and the promise of an incredible life together for Gwilym with their new child, a beautiful baby girl named Brianne. 

That was until two years ago when the small but happy family lost Angela what seemed like very suddenly. Life became difficult from that moment on. Two years of grief therapy for both father and daughter, many sleepless lonely nights where he would reach out to her spot to pull her close like he had done so many times before, only to find the coldness of the sheets, and maybe one too many scotches on the nights when it became too much to bear. Friends that the couple had made didn’t know what to do with the now single father and his young seven year old daughter, so they distanced themselves from him. Ben, his friend from back home in England, flew in and stayed for two weeks while Gwil and Angela’s parents planned the funeral for the twenty-nine year old wife and daughter they had just lost. Two years passed and the loss and loneliness had not completely faded.

Gwil moved to make two bowls of oatmeal for breakfast and thought of his workday ahead. After the death of his wife, the publishing company he worked for allowed him to take a small leave of paid absence and then worked with him on working from home a few days a week as Brianne was still young. When he did have to commute into the city, which was an hour and a half train ride away, Angela’s parents would watch Brianne. He had even cleared her new cheerleading schedule with them. Brianne spent every Friday night with them and Gwilym would get a night to himself. Through most of the time, he would spend it thinking about how much he missed his daughter and how he couldn’t wait until she was home again the next morning. 

Angela’s parents Mario and Justina had been incredibly supportive with both the young girl and the widower father. He knew how hard it was for them after losing their only child, it was the main reason that Gwil didn’t move himself and Brianne back to England. They deserved to be an integral part in their granddaughter’s life. Gwilym shook away the thoughts of his late wife again as he placed the bowls of oatmeal on the island. He poured Bri a glass of juice and glanced up at the clock. He moved through the house to the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time he reached the top landing quickly. He let out a breath of success before moving to Brianne’s room down the hall from his own. He pushed opened the slightly ajar door more before sticking his head in. 

“Bri, honey, it's time to get up.” He stated before moving inside the neat room and opening the curtains, letting in the sunlight of the day. The nine year old stirred and groaned softly at the sudden light filling her room. She sat up, stretching her arms out. 

“Morning dad.” Brianne rubbed the last few morsels of sleep from her brown eyes and looked at her doting father. Those brown eyes of hers were one of the last pieces of Angela left on the Earth. Angela was almost disappointed when the baby’s eyes were brown and not blue like Gwilym. He just chuckled and said he would rather have two pairs of the most magnificent brown eyes in the world than two pairs of his own. Angela never said another word about it from that moment on. Brianne pushed back her light brunette locks from her face as she moved off the bed. Gwilym moved back to the doorway and looked at the young girl. 

“Breakfast is ready, come eat and then you can get ready for school.” He said. Brianne smiled wide and turned making her bed. Gwil didn’t mind making it but in Brianne’s big ‘I’m in fifth grade now dad,’ speech she made last week right before school started she had promised him that she would always make her bed from then on. Gwil moved to his room, changing from his sweats and an old rugby shirt into a pair of plain blue jeans and a white button up. He pulled on some gray socks and moved down to the kitchen. 

He knew he had no video meetings today so mostly that meant he was going to be reading manuscripts that prospective authors had sent in with the hopes of being published which meant dressing down. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair and looked at himself in the master bathroom mirror. Only the small bags under his eyes gave away how truly tired he was. At least last night he didn’t dream of her, he actually hadn’t dreamt of her in months. He was just restless, constantly up checking on Brianne just to make sure she was sleeping okay. Gwil inhale and ran his hands over the short beard he had grown. He had been toying with the idea of shaving for a few days. Angela had liked him clean shaven. He shaved every morning for six months after her death almost as if begging for some higher power to bring her back to him, to bring her back to their daughter. It hadn’t worked. 

“Dad!” Brianne’s voice from the kitchen had pulled him from his thoughts as he moved downstairs. 

“Yes love?” He said as he sat down beside her at the island. 

“Did you pack my lunch?” She asked hopeful that he said no and would just give her money for chicken nuggets like a lot of the other children got. 

“Of course.” He smiled proud of himself and the recipes he learned from parenting sites across the internet. Brianne frowned before starting to eat her maple brown sugar oatmeal. 

“What did you make?” 

“Ham and cheddar wraps with the mustard you like from Prime deli, carrots, and pretzels.” He said slightly unsure even though he packed the bag not even forty minutes previous. 

“Did you give me a go-gurt?” Her eyes now hopeful for the sweet tube of yogurt the kids loved. 

“You-gurt I did.” He made the terrible pun. Brianne’s face went dead pan.

“Dad!” She gave him a petty chuckle. “That was a really bad joke. “ Her chuckle turned into a soft giggle as Gwilym laughed. 

“As your dad I’m contractually obligated to make at least five bad jokes a day. I’m sorry darling it is in the guidebook to fatherhood.” He smiled at her. Brianne’s giggle turned back into a chuckle and an eye roll as she returned her full attention to her oatmeal. “Nervous or excited?” Gwil asked after a few moments of eating between the two. 

“For tonight?”

“Yeah, first big cheer practice!” He gave her a hopeful smile. She nodded. 

“More nervous than excited I guess.” She said scooping up a spoonful of oatmeal and pushing it around the bowl. “What if I’m no good? A lot of the kids have been cheering since they were five. I never have!” Her eyes moved to her father, they were filled with doubt. It took everything in him for Gwilym to not pull his daughter to his chest and hold her, promising her that everything would be okay.  

“So you’re a little behind, so what. You don’t have to cheer if you don’t want to.” He said. “Its okay to quit if it's for the right reasons.” He hoped that she wouldn’t ask him what the right reasons were because he wasn’t entirely sure he knew them himself. 

“No!” She said quickly shaking her head. “I want to! I’m just gonna have to try harder than some of the girls. I can do it.” The strength returned to her voice. 

“That’s my Bri.” Gwilym smiled wide with pride. “Has any of the kids shown you any moves?” He asked. 

“Well this girl Jasmine has. She’s on my team and in my class. She’s super cool and I really like her. “ Brianne smiled.  Gwil had heard bits and pieces about this girl and how much Brianne liked her.  “She showed me the game cheers at recess this past week and I’ve been practicing them. I think I got most of them down.” 

“Wait, game cheers? Are those different from the cheer cheers?” He asked slightly confused. 

“Game cheers are for the football games when we cheer on the teams. The cheer routine, dad, is for the competitions.” She confirmed for him. 

“Oh. Okay.” He blinked letting the information file itself in the new file on American cheerleading and football he had in his mind. When he had signed her up, he knew she would be at games but when the woman there asked if she was competing competitively Gwilym understood none of it. It took Brianne confirming that she wanted to compete. “Got it. You have got to teach me this stuff darling. In England, we don’t really have cheerleaders.” 

“Okay.” She nodded finishing her orange juice. She hopped off her stool taking her bowl and glass to the sink, placing them down. 

“Bri.” Gwil said watching her.

“Dishwasher, I know.” She took her dishes from the sink and put them in the half full dishwasher. Gwilym made a note to himself to run it after he got back from dropping her off at school. He finished his last few bites of breakfast as she ran upstairs to brush her teeth and get dressed. He moved putting his dishes in the machine, before putting on his shoes. After about ten minutes, he grabbed his car keys and wallet before looking up the stairs.

“Ready?” He called up. 

“Yeah.” She jogged down the stairs in shorts and a t-shirt. She moved pulling on her sneakers before taking her backpack from Gwil’s extended hand. They got into his black Chevy Cruze and pulled from the driveway. He started the short drive to the elementary school. 

“So how many kids are on the team?” He asked as he turned down the morning drivetime radio. 

“Thirty-five including me.” 

“Thirty-five! Doesn’t that get a little crowded and complicated?” He asked.

“Dad the best routines are complicated. The coaches know what they are doing. They were so good last year they got third in nationals!” She said excitedly. The way her voice talked about the team Gwil knew that she had made the right choice picking this sport. The nervousness from earlier had evaporated. “This year, Jasmine said, that we’re gonna win nationals. And if we win nationals we get really cool jackets! I wanna win, I wanna jacket. Mom won when she was my age.” Brianne said with the last part of her statement being quieter than the rest. Angela was still a hard conversation topic between the father and daughter. 

“I know love. She would be so very proud of you no matter if you cheered or not.” He

said honestly. Angela had been proud of their daughter’s accomplishments since day one. He pulled into the drop off line. “I’m gonna pick you up at two like always. We’re gonna go home do our respective work, then head to practice at five thirty, does that sound good?” He asked as the cars slowly inched up the line. She nodded.

“Can we eat dinner after practice?”

“Sure, honey. But that isn’t until almost eight o’clock.” He said worried it was too late for her. 

“I just want to make sure there is no chance I puke up dinner all over the mats.” She said. Gwilym couldn’t help but chuckle which eased her own tenseness. 

“Okay, but just for tonight.” He said as he pulled up to the curb and dropped her off. He leaned back kissing her cheek. “Have fun, but not too much. Learn but not too much that you’re more bright than your dear ole dad.” He said. 

“Brighter, dad.” She smiled. 

“See you’re already smarter than me.” He smiled as she got out of the car and walked towards the door. He watched her disappear in the sea of back packs before pulling up and out of the line. He began the drive home as he thought about googling some basic information about American cheerleading and the importance of it.  It was going to be an interesting day. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“I think I know everything I need to know love.” He says as he stopped at a red light on the corner of Van Zile Road. It was nearly five thirty and the two were on their way to the practice facility. “I know all about High V’s, low v’s, T’s, Broken T’s. Pretty good for your dad.” He smiled over at her, proud of himself.  Brianne nodded, giving him a similar proud smile. 

“That’s great dad.” She said, holding her cheer bag eagerly in her lap. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail with the green and gold cheer bow she had been given on sign up day. “What about stunts? Half up? Fulls? Liberties? Basket tosses?” She asked interested now in her father’s knowledge of the sport she was taking part in. It made her feel like a proud daughter to know that her father had taken a liking to it.

“Stunts?” His smile turned into a slightly confused look. “Well… maybe love, I don’t know as much as I claimed to.” He chuckled, noticing the red light had turned green. He pushed down gently on the accelerator. 

“I’ll help you. When I learn something, I will teach you it too.” She said. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to learn all the things it takes dad! And parents

usually only stay the first practice okay? So please don’t stay for all of them.” 

“Why not? Am I embarrassing?” He teased her. “Is it because I am not the one who brought it on?” He was trying to make her laugh, even though she was eager and ready to cheer. He could see behind her eyes the nervousness that laid there ready to attack the young girl.

“It’s Bring It On dad.” She giggled as Gwil turned onto the road leading into the industrial park. 

“Are we going the right way?” 

“Yeah, Jasmine says that it is by all these warehouses. It's the only place big enough for

all the cheer mats.” She says.  

“You will have to introduce me to Jasmine and Jasmine’s parents.” He said, pulling up to 1942 Swarthmore Ave, he parked his Chevy into an open spot and looked around the lot. He counted about 7 minivans, and 9 SVUs. It was the older red Jeep Cherokee that stuck out to him. It seemed out of place in the sea of stick figure families and my child is an honor roll student stickers that stared back at him from the windows and bumpers of other vehicles. 

Bri got out of the car quickly, moving inside the large warehouse. Gwilym tried to follow her just as quickly. Once he moved through the door, he noticed how huge the place actually was. There were four full sets of cheer mats, nine panels each, in which two of the floor were spring floors to make tumbling easier. There was a large tumble track and foam pit along the back wall. There were two small sets of bleachers inside for the parents to watch and a wall full of cubbies for the teams to put their bags.  

A young man sat at an out of place desk with his headphones in. He pointed to a sign in sheet with the four different teams on them.  Gwilym moved over to the list looking for Brianne Lee, signed his name under the sign in section. He looked up to spot his daughter talking to a shorter dark haired girl who placed their bags in cubbies next to each others. This must be Jasmine, he had heard so much about over the past few days. 

Gwilym moved towards the small sets of bleachers, trying to find an open seat. He could clearly distinguish two different groups as a few more parents came in and separated. On one bleacher sat parents that looked like they stepped out of a J.Crew or a Vineyard Vines advertisements. On the other set of bleachers, sat a few sets of parents. A man in a suit on the phone speaking Russian at a quick pace, an older woman knitting something as she watched the littlest girls on the far back mat. His eyes then moved to a trio of parents, a young man with short dark curly hair was listening intently to the story being told very animatedly by a reddish-brown hair man whose hands almost smacked the young Y/H/C woman in the face. She jerked her head back and started laughing at him. The two men started to join in her laughter, Gwil decided those were his kind of people. He took another step towards them before he was cut out by someone else. 

“Hi Honey. You must be Mr. Lee. I’m Karen Diguimi. McKenna’s mom” A woman with a short cropped haircut that swooped down in the front and then spiked up in the back stood in front of him. She wore a green and gold mustangs t-shirt with the names of her four children on the front over four running horse. In the gold glittering letters it said, ‘Karen’s Corral.’ Gwil gave her a polite smile  as he nodded. 

“Yes, I am Gwilym. Brianne’s father.” He shook her hand that she had jutted out at him. 

“Oh you’re British!” Her heavily mascaraed eyes went wide as the smile broadened 

across her face. A light blush came to Gwil’s cheeks as his accent was always getting him more attention than he wanted. 

“Yes ma’am I am.” He said. 

“Well, that is just incredible honey! You must come sit with us.” She gripped his arm with

her green and gold nails pulling him away from the parents he wanted to sit with.   

“Umm, okay.” He politely followed. She sat on the front row of the bleachers, pulling him down to introduce him to the Vineyard Vines and J. Crew parents. 

“This is John, Melissa, Linda, Frank, Tracy, and Vanessa. Guys, this is Gwilym. He is Brianne’s father.” She said pointing to each parent as she said their name. He nodded with each, shaking their hands. “This is just some of us, with some many kids on the team, most of us car pool. We could get you in on it if you want.” 

“Maybe. I’ll, uh, let you know.” He said kindly. He looked over onto the blue cheer mat, watching his daughter stretch next to Jasmine and a young auburn haired boy. He smiled as she made friends and he turned his attention back to Karen who had launched into a talk about a fundraiser for the competition buses.

“Wall gets those nice buses for their kids, I am just saying. They have won nationals three times over the last five years. It has to be the buses, so I want to come up with some kick booty ideas to raise money for the kids to take those charter buses.”

“Oh what about chocolate bars?” Tracy said. A few other parents threw out some ideas like tupperware, donuts, or pasta shaped like little footballs. 

“No, they never sell that well. How about candles that smell like pumpkin spice or vanilla marshmallow? It is almost fall and that would be perfect. We can even include the holiday ones. They make perfect Christmas gifts for your friends and neighbors.” Karen smiled knowing this was her winning idea.

“Shouldn’t we be asking those parents as well?” Gwil said as he looked over his shoulder at the three parents who talking about something on the woman’s phone. How Gwilym longed to be over there with them instead of here with these parents. 

“Oh them. No no, they won’t have any good ideas.” Karen pursed her lips in slight disgust. 

“What’s wrong with them?” He chuckled looking at her. He clearly saw no problem in the set of them. 

“There is nothing wrong with them per say but they are different from the rest of us.” She said losing the digested tone but keeping an air of rudeness about her. “Rami is probably the most mellow of the bunch. Sometimes he makes kind of crazy faces and it doesn’t weird me out as much as it did but its still odd. His wife Lucy thinks she’s better than us because she’s not from here. We rarely see them together because they have another daughter who plays soccer on the other side of town.” Karen said dishing what she thought was dirt to Gwil. He just thought Rami and Lucy seemed like good parents and it was probably the other way around about Karen thinking she was better than Lucy. 

“Oh okay.” Gwil shifted a bit from her, slowly trying to make his getaway. The woman sitting with Rami and the other man looked over at Gwil, noticing his physical discomfort. She moved up off her seat and slowly maneuvered off the bleachers. 

“Joe is divorced and his son is the only boy on the squad. He doesn’t like to fund raise and he doesn’t wear the team parent shirts Tracy and Melissa make.” Karen said. Joe and Rami watched the woman move in front of Gwil, holding out her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” The young woman smiled, as Gwil placed his larger hand in hers and shook it. “Karen.” She pulled her hand away looking at the mother. “Love the shirt.” Gwil tried not to laugh in Karen’s face as it turned fifteen different shades of red as Y/N smiled still. Oh, these were people Gwil wanted to hang out with. Angela would have loved Y/N. 

“Gwilym.” 

“Rad name. So what were you two talking about?” 

“Oh nothing.” Karen quipped. 

“Selling candles for bus fare.” Gwil said. 

“Well, that is interesting. I wouldn’t mind selling a candle or two.” Y/N said. Gwil could hear the two men on the other bleacher snickering.  This caused him to smile more. 

“I haven’t decided  if this what we are going to do yet. But I will let you know.” Karen said with dripping sweetness. 

“Why don’t you do that?” Y/N said back with the same sweetness. “Gwil, if you want, there is plenty of room on our bleachers. You can join us if its too full over here.” She smiled genuinely at the man before moving back to Joe and Rami. Both whom high fived her as she sat back down.  

“Y/N is one more snide remark away from me telling Coach Nancy. She doesn’t have a child on the team.”

“What? Why is she here than?” Gwil looked back at Karen after watching Y/N smile and push her hair back from her face. It was the first time in a long time, Gwil had looked at a woman like he had looked at Angela when they first met. Now Karen was stopping him from looking at Y/N all together. 

“Well her niece is on the team. She is her legal guardian. Her brother and her sister-in-law died and left Jasmine to Y/N. God, we miss Nick, he would have never let his sister talk to me like that.” Karen said with no sympathy for the sister or the child. Gwil seriously doubted that she missed the man at all. 

“That kind of makes her a team parent, she’s a parent to her niece.” So Y/N was Jasmine’s aunt, that fact made a small part of Gwil’s heart spark for a mere moment in a place that had long been dark since Angela passed as he knew Y/N would be around more due to their children’s friendship. “You know Karen, I really want to be involved with Bri’s team because I love my daughter and I want to fully support her endeavors, but I think I am going to sit with them for now.” Gwil stood up and moved to the other set of bleachers. “Can I sit?” He asked as the smile on Y/N face grew. 

“Of course. Gwilym, this is Joe and Rami.” Y/N introduced him, two more hand shakes down. 

“Rami, Joe, this is Gwilym. He’s new to the squad, his daughter is Brianne.” She said. 

“Welcome to the mustangs, we’ve got spirit. My daughter is the dark curly haired one, Selma.” Rami said smiling. Gwil took note of her as he found a spot next to Y/N. He sat beside her as Joe pointed to the auburn haired boy.

“Welcome to the team man. That’s Joey, he’s my boy.” He smiled the same proud father smile that Gwil knew all too well. “It is nice to have new faces not being sucked in by Karen and her cronies.” Joe added, patting Gwil’s arm. This made Gwilym laugh. 

“Well she definitely tried. Complimented my accent, told me what a bunch of misfits you all were.”

“Aw, how sweet she’s thinking of us.” Y/N said. “Just be careful she might try to seduce you with the promise of nonfat vanilla pumpkin frappuccinos next.” 

“Misfits? I prefer the term outcasts but I guess that is all ‘I was homecoming queen and won’t let anyone forget’ can come up with.” Joe said. 

“Karen and him went to high school together.” Rami said. “She likes to be the homecoming queen for every trunk-n-treat that the town puts together.”

“It was years ago, find a better costume.” Joe softly exclaimed between them.

“No because I would like to speak to the manager is not a viable costume, Joseph.” 

“She was a bitch then and she’s a bitch now.” Joe said. “And I mean that with no ill will towards dogs.” He added. Gwil laughed more, turning his attention to his daughter who was currently in what he could assume was a stunt group. The conversation died down between the parents as they watched their respective child. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” She looked at Gwil. 

“What is Bri doing? I don’t know much about cheerleading.” He admitted. 

“Oh so she’s basing the stunt, which means once they get the flyer up in the air, that’s

Jasmine actually, Bri will hold her foot so that she is balanced and won’t fall.” 

“Flyer, base...the girl in the back?” He said trying to add more information to his

cheerleading knowledge card to impress Bri later. 

“She’s the backspot, she holds the flyer’s ankles so that she is more stable. Bri is pretty

good for someone who has never cheered before.” Y/N said. “Jasmine hasn’t stopped talking about her since school started. I’ve been waiting to meet you.” There was that small spark again in Gwil’s heart that quickly died down.   

“Yes! I hear about Jasmine daily, she’s definitely Bri’s best mate.” He said. Y/N smiled as she took the next hour and a half, explaining the different kinds of stunts they were trying. First with a half, then a full, and then a liberty. It was true, after he understood the mechanism of it all, that Bri was a sturdy base and quick to recover if the flyer moved. 

Gwil watched his daughter look happier than he had seen her in a long time. Maybe it was the connection to her mother or being on the squad with her friends, it was definitely worth the money spent on the cheer clothes, the sign up fees, competition fees, everything. If Gwil had to deal with Karen and her cronies every day till Bri was eighteen than so be it, if he knew she would smile like that. As the practice came to an end, Bri ran off the mat to her father. 

He scooped her up, hugging her close before putting her back down. 

“You did amazing love!” He said. 

“Oh thank you dad! I had a lot of fun.” She moved to her cubbie grabbing her bag. Jasmine moved next to her, whispering into Bri’s ear. 

“She looked like she had a blast.” Y/N said moving and standing next to him. 

“She did and thanks for your help. You know a lot about this stuff.” 

“Anytime and I was a mustang myself until I joined drama club in high school.” She said. Y/N was a bit younger than Gwil but maybe she did know his late wife, not that he told her about Angela.  “Oh hey, I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to join our carpool. Sometimes I take Joey and Selma home, and vice versa. Just in case you want a night in or if you’re busy with your significant other.”

“Oh I’m not…” He started, he wasn’t ready to bring up the widowship yet. He put his smile back on as he nodded.  “Yeah that sounds fantastic.” 

“It’s just our kids, no Karen, no crazy cheer parents.” Y/N said. “I’ll give you my number so that we can work out all the details.”  He nodded as Bri tapped his arm. 

“Dad?”

“Yeah love?”

“Jasmine and Ms. Y/L/N were going to get pizza. Can we go with them please?” Brianne battered her eyelashes at him, putting on a small pleading pout. 

“Yeah please Mr. Lee?” Jasmine chimed in with her sweet voice. 

“I don’t know. Is it okay with you, Y/N if we tag along?” He looked at the woman. 

“Oh yeah, totally. We’re going to Squan Tavern, best thin crust in town.” Y/N smiled. 

“Awesome, lead the way and we will follow.” Gwil said. Brianne and Jasmine exclaimed happily as they moved out of the warehouse. Chattering about the things they had learned that night and what was to come in their practices. Gwil walked behind Y/N out of the building as she turned to him. 

“See you two in a few.” She smiled, taking Jasmine’s hand leading the girl across the asphalt. She headed to the older red Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot. As Gwil stood at his car door watching them he smiled. In that moment as she helped her niece into the car and then got in herself, Gwilym knew that maybe cheerleading was going to be good for both of them. Maybe even small sparks of gold could make the green shine again. 

#green and gold #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym x reader #gwilym lee imagines #Gwilym Lee #bohemian rhapsody #midsomer murders #reader #ben hardy x reader #joe mazello x reader #rami malek #lucy boynton #joe mazzello #ben hardy

[maddie-grove]

Little Book Review: Harbor Me

Author: Jacqueline Woodson.

Publication Date: 2018.

Genre: Contemporary YA.

Premise: Six fifth-graders with learning difficulties at a Brooklyn elementary school are instructed by their teacher to talk with each other about their feelings and experiences once a week. Haley, our main girl, is reluctant to talk about her widowed father, who is in prison and about to be released, and her uncle, who raised her but plans to move out after her father’s return. However, she volunteers to be the “memory keeper” for her best friend Holly (the “rich girl”), her crush Amari (who is afraid of police brutality), Esteban (whose father has been taken away by ICE), Tiago (whose family deals with xenophobia), and Ashton (the one white kid, who is poor). 

Thoughts: Jacqueline Woodson’s writing is as fluid and lyrical as ever, and she deals with the book’s heavy themes with incredible empathy and nuance. The glimpses that we see of each kid’s home life--Haley’s bond with Holly’s mother, Esteban’s father’s open affection and selflessness towards his children, Amari’s father’s efforts to protect him from a racist society without scaring him too badly, Tiago’s admiration for his absolutely lovely-sounding mom--are full of beauty and love that provide some much-needed hope. There is really not much negative that I can say about the content of this book. It’s a lovely, highly readable story with a great message about caring for and trying to understand others, and I think it’s a good choice for assigned reading for late elementary/early middle school.

Yet I do think it suffers a little from its own efficiency. I’m surprised at my own reaction; one thing I admire about middle-grade/YA fiction is how often it tells interesting, multi-faceted stories while using concise language and/or relatively simple plots. (There’s nothing wrong with complicated language and plots in any kind of fiction, but sometimes they strike me as a sign that the author isn’t confident about the bones of the story.) But, here, I felt that the kids (reticent Haley aside) were too quick to deliver extremely on-point, eloquent monologues about a single issue each of them were facing. They would’ve felt like more fully individualized, fleshed-out characters if there’d been more dialogue, more fumbling, more venting about smaller issues in addition to (NOT instead of) bigger ones. I really liked the moments where the kids did go a little off-topic; Tiago is also upset about the recent death of a beloved elderly dog, and Ashton jumps around between subjects a bit.

I also felt like there were some missed opportunities. For example, the kids very rarely talk about having learning difficulties or being looked down upon for struggling with them (an issue that Haley mentions briefly near the beginning of the book). Some reviews I saw mentioned that Woodson said she chose not to focus on the learning difficulties, because some students who struggle with learning may not appear to need any help. (This is apparently from some bonus materials in the back of the book that I didn’t read before returning the book on Libby, because I assumed it was a standard reader’s guide.) There are students like this, of course, but clearly these kids seemed like they needed help to someone if they’re being grouped together in a classroom. The depiction of Haley’s dad’s incarceration is also unexpectedly apolitical. It’s a tragedy for the family, but I’m not sure whether the audience is supposed to disapprove of the fact that he was sent to prison for so long. 

Hot Goodreads Take: There’s some “damn SJW’s” nonsense that’s not worth repeating, but I am fascinated by the three-star reviewer who seemed to like the “challenging issues” discussed in the story and the fact that it was about “[a] group of kids from all sorts of backgrounds,” yet accused Woodson of being “a pawn in the liberal propoganda movement.” Buddy, what did you ever like about this book?

#little book review #harbor me #jacqueline woodson

[prorevenge]

[Long Story] My life of abuse in the foster care system with multi-revenge.

Background

The story I want to tell you is full of sadness and heartache. I started out life in poverty living with my parents in a house that had some wooden floors and mostly dirt floors. My mother has a long list of mental issues and my father was an alcoholic and thankfully not the abusive type. Me and my sister were taken from our home when I was 7 and she was 4. We got placed into the foster care system in Kentucky. I'm not going to use real names, but I will use the initials of their names. It's my understanding at the time foster parents in Kentucky could have up to four kids per room and they didn't have a limit of how many a single foster parent could keep. LD's home was a long house with six bed rooms and she was keeping at least eight kids at a time. In the foster care system it's not uncommon to see a child stay with us just for a week and then be released back to the family, so we had different kids come and go all the time.

The Foster Family

The foster home we went to was ran by a woman we'll call LD and she was a widow. Her husband had passed away in the 80s. She had 4x sons and 1x daughter. Her youngest son we'll call JPD was still living with her because he had fallen from a truck when he was a kid and damaged his skull. This caused him to have a learning disability and he couldn't read or write and at the time of me living with them he was about 26 years old. Her other son CD was the oldest and he was a plumber. Another son is DD and he owned five large farms and ran a grocery store. The fourth son was CCD and he died in the 80s from being shot. Her only daughter was SD and she was very kind to us.

The Beginning

When we entered the foster care system it was a really scary time for us and I'll never forget the screams of our parents as they ripped us from our home. Because we didn't have running water and electricity the old barn converted into a house wasn't suitable for children according to our social worker. When I first arrived I had broken my wrist and had my arm in a cast. The first thing we did was go shopping for clothes as I didn't bring any with me. When we return from shopping I put my things away and was then given a trash bag and told to go outside and not come back in until all of the loose trash was picked up. Just to let you know now, this was more of a work camp instead of a loving and caring home. While I was picking up trash JPD was in the swimming pool they had beside the home. He yelled for me to come to him and he asked me if I wanted to swim. I told him I didn't know how to swim and I can't because of my obvious broken arm. He then grabbed me and tossed me into the pool and I screamed for help. I really felt like I was going to die that day. He took his time but jumped in and pulled me out. He told me to stop crying as if I would have drowned no one would have cared because I didn't matter. I remember his words like it was yesterday. When I finally got to bed that night I couldn't sleep and I cried the whole night missing my parents. Little did I know this was just the beginning of a hard 12 years of life to come.

Big Ben, Sexual Abuse and My First Revenge

When I first arrived I was told by LD that another boy will be sharing my room with me and he was away at camp for the week. I arrived at her house when school was out for the summer. His real name wasn't Ben at all and we'll call him BB. BB had been in the home for a while and he was about to turn 18 and when you turn 18 the foster care system lets you go as you're an adult now. When he returned from camp he was a very large guy, and I'm guessing about 6'2 and 230+ pounds. When I first met him things seemed to be fine, but it was the first night of him being back that he tried to molest me. I have a hard time sleeping as it is because everyday I wanted to leave and be back with my parents. He got up from his bed that's on the other side of the room and then got into mine. He tried to force his penis into my mouth. He held my nose shut so that I couldn't breath and I had no choice but to open my mouth. As he did this I did bite him as it was the only thing I could think to do. He jumped off of me and smacked me so hard it knocked me out as I don't remember anything else.

The next morning when I got up with my face hurting and my mouth busted I ran to tell LD what he did to me. She took me into her bedroom to talk about it and I told her everything. When she confronted him about it he said I was trying to steal his money and he smacked me for it. I told her that's not true and he checked his wallet for his money and couldn't find it. He asked me for his money back and LD searched my pockets. She pulled out $20 and she knew I had no money, she told me I was going to be punished and made me scrub the front porch. BB had put his money in my pocket after he knocked me out and I have no idea what else might have happened to me during that time. That night I cried and was sitting by the bed room door in fear of being hurt again. I did this for a few nights and didn't get any sleep hardly. I was falling asleep outside doing work and getting in trouble for it.

One day I'm in my room playing with hot wheels another foster kid let me have. BB walks in and closes the door and I just start screaming. He quickly jumps on me and covers my mouth and LD is outside doing something and doesn't hear me. He tells me if I scream again he's going to smack me again and I'm only 7 with a broken arm, I really can't do anything. He spits into my mouth and makes me swallow it while he lays on top of me. I don't know what else would have happened to me because LD came back inside and called for him to do something. This time I didn't lay and cry at all, I just laid in place thinking about what to do. I decide I'm not going to let him keep hurting me so I go to the kitchen and sneak a fillet knife into my room and I put it under my pillow.

That night he get's up and jumps into my bed. He told me to remember what will happen if I scream or resist. I tell him I understand. I slip the knife from under the pillow and hid it under the covers. He then pushes me down to his penis again and that's when I let him have it. I slashed and cut him as many times as I could. He quickly disarms me and runs out of the room into the bathroom. I run to wake up LD and I told her what happened and she called 911. She told me not to say a word to the cops about what happened and to go back to bed. BB and LD told the cops he had been sleep walking and he didn't mean to cut himself. She told me if I come out of my room and say anything the cops, they wouldn't believe me because I'm a lair. After this happened BB never came back and I don't know what happened to him but I knew I wasn't going to ever let anyone do that to me again. A really shitty thing LD did to me was force me to wash the bed and the carpet of all the blood from BB. I had to scrub the bedroom, kitchen and bathroom as punishment.

Verbal Abuse, Slave Work and Sexual Abuse to Girls

Being told that you were worthless; didn't matter to anyone; you'll never be anything; was commonly said from JPD and LD as they used that to demoralize the kids. They treated all of the foster kids this way and would tell us we are lucky to be living with them as this is the only way we wouldn't be in jail or dead. They told us if we ever left we would end up in and out of jail because we are just as worthless as our parents. Anytime any of the kids wanted to do any after school event or even play sports they would tell them they don't matter or will never be anything so why waste the time now. I was also threatened to be put into a boys home away from my sister if I ever told anyone about how LD treated us. At a young age you don't know any better sadly and you're to scared to think otherwise.

All of the boys worked the farms of DD and we didn't get to bed until about 11PM. We got up every morning at 4AM to do farm work with feeding cows, chickens and pigs. After we finished our work in the morning we had to quickly scramble to get cleaned up for school as the bus arrived at 6:20ish AM every day. You never had time to do any school work after you got home because you had to eat and then get back outside. It made passing classes in school really hard because I only had the bus ride home to get my homework done. DD had lots of tobacco farms and as you can image he was doing really well for himself because he had free labor all year long. Raising tobacco isn't an easy job by any means and it's even harder when your just a kid. This kind of life went on for the whole time I was at the home and nothing ever got better.

Remember that this foster home keeps boys and girls from all walks of life. Also remember that LD's 20 something son JPD lives with her as well. One night I was up going to the bathroom when I could hear faint crying. The crying was coming from the girls room and I went to find out what was wrong. I opened the door to find JPD having sex with a girl that was about 16 years old or so. I ran to tell LD and he quickly ran out of the room after me. All of the noise woke LD up and JPD told her the caught me sneaking into the girls room. At this point I'm about ten years old or so and I try to explain to her what happened. She told me I'm telling lies and I should be ashamed of myself. She told me JPD would never do such a thing and I was in serious trouble tomorrow. I talked with the girl on the school bus the next morning and she said it was her idea to have sex. She told me she had been flirting with him and she was hungry for sex. I told her I was going to tell the social workers and she said if I did she would claim it never happened. When I did get home I was punished to clean out this old crappy garbage bin they have behind the home and it was full of loose garbage from bags getting ripped. The garbage bin was built of wood pallets and it was really large. They refused to give me any gloves to pick up the trash and as you might know, trash normally has food in it too. Of course all of this is rotten and full of maggots. It took me about six hours to clean it out.

Later that week when we went to the social workers office for our visitation with my parents I told the social worker what happened to the girl and she pulled me into a private room to talk about it. I told her everything that was happening and she told me she'll stop by tomorrow after we get home from school for a surprise visit. What I found out later in life is that the social workers in my county hated conflict and paper work, so they would always give the foster homes a heads up on visits. The next day when we arrived home her car was sitting in our drive way. When I walked in she took the girl out to her car to have a talk. While the social worker was away LD tells me she know's what I've done and I'm going to wish I had never opened my mouth. The social worker comes back with the girl and sits in the living room with LD, JPD, me and all of the other foster kids. She goes on to tell us the importance of telling the truth and makes an example out of me. She told the other kids not to tell lies like I do as it causes un-needed stress and issues for everyone. After she left LD told me she's going to make me pay for this and it might not be today but one day (remember this phrase).

Getting Adopted and Physical Abuse

When I turned 16 I had been in the foster care system for about 8 years and my parents finally signed us over to the state. My social worker told me she's going to place us in line to be adopted and we will be visiting with new parents in the following weeks. I was very heart broken but I was also excited as I couldn't wait to get away from LD and her family. Weeks go by and we never get to visit anyone and I started to get worried. One day LD comes to school to pick us up and tells us we are getting adopted today! I was really confused because we hadn't meet with anyone. We arrive at the social workers office and go in with LD. We go into a room where my parents are and paper work is on the table. Because I was 16 I had to sign paper work stating that I understood what was going on. The social worker tells me LD is going to adopt us and I start crying on the spot. I tell them I would rather be dead then to be adopted by her and the social worker told me she understands my anger because I hate to obey rules. She was convinced that I was hating LD because I was a rebel and the normal teenager who hated following rules at this age. I told her that's not true and she said she knows it to be true and she doesn't want to hear me tell any more lies. My parents are both crying and they have already signed the paper work weeks ago. LD signs hers and I refused to sign mine. The social worker told me if I don't sign it, it doesn't change anything as I'll still be adopted by LD.

On the way home from the social workers office LD looks up in the mirror and gives me a long gaze that I'll never forget. She then says, "I told you one day you'll pay for what you've done and that day has arrived." I felt chills run down my spine and I was really in complete shock. Even as I type this out now I still get that same chill running down my spine and I can see her eye's glaring at me in the mirror. Now that she adopted me and my sister we were no longer protected by the foster care system. With foster kids, you're not allowed to lay a hand on them to discipline them and now that we are adopted that's out the window. Now, more abuse starts that we never had before. Now when LD gets mad she would throw things at me, hit me with coffee cups, remote controls, chairs or anything else she could get her hands on. JPD then began to beat me like I was a man when I talked back to him or not doing what he said the second he said it.

At this point I felt broken and alone. My sister was treated like a princess and it's because she arrived at the home when she was 4, so she only knows LD as her only parent and always did what she commanded. My sister at the time had no real understanding of who LD was and how awful her family was. My sister was over the moon about being adopted and having LD's last name. My sister was basically brainwashed into thinking LD could do no wrong and that I was just a troublemaker. I felt like I had lost the only family I had, she was my everything and I sacrificed so much because I never wanted to be separated from her.

My Father Passed Away

My grand plan in life was to turn 18 and go live with my parents away from LD and her family. It wasn't long after I was adopted that my father was diagnosed with cancer in his throat. I was crushed by this news as my father was my hero. I was only with my parents until the age of 7, but they truly loved us and provided for us the best they could. My parents had never raised a hand to us growing up and treated us with the love kids need. My sister and I had monthly visits with our parents while in foster care and never missed any of them. We would get dropped off at the social workers office where our parents would walk with us to the local park and play. They didn't have a car or anything and used a local program for people in poverty to get access to transpiration. We had a local program ran by the county that would pick people up and drive them to the grocery store, doctor visits, and court. It was like Uber but it was limited as to where they would take you and how often.

My uncle is helping my parents the most that he can and he takes my father for all of this chemo treatments. He is also coming to LD's to pick us up to go and see my parents. At this point we're doing home visits with my parents as it's not easy for my father to travel. My father has been fighting with cancer for little over a year at this point. One day we are home for a visit with my father and he's in really bad shape. While he was gone for a chemo treatment someone broke into his house and stole all of his pain medication. My uncle tried to get the medication refilled and was turned away because they didn't have a police report. My father knew who stole the pills and didn't want to turn him in as cops to poor people is the enemy. I was in art class and was called to the front office to take a call. My uncle had called to tell me my father tried to commit suicide and he's being transported to the hospital. He told me he was on his way to pick me and my sister up to go see him.

My father lasted a few days and passed away from his liver shutting down. I was able to see him before he died and he could squeeze my hand to let me know he could understand me. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and I promise to make him proud. I'm telling this part of the story because of how LD and her family treated me afterwards. They told me that deadbeats like my father are lazy people who draw a check every month paid for by working people. They said it's a good thing he's dead and now my mother needs to drop dead as she draws a check too. They told me this on the way home from the hospital! I sit in the main back of the van in silence and not shedding a tear. I was no longer going to let them control me and keep me down. I made a promise to myself that I will do everything in my power to be better than them and one day I would show them what my pain feels like. My father passed away on October 25th, 12x days before I would turn 18 on Nov 7th. My mother was soon after awarded to the state and placed into a nursing home due to her mental issues.

Making It on My Own

The day after we put my father to rest I started working with my uncle painting barns and sealing drive ways. When I lived with my parents I missed to much school when I was in the first grade and failed. So getting out of high school I would be 19 years old. I had plans to go to Huston TX and learn underwater welding as that's where the money was. My uncle was paying me even on days we didn't find any work to make sure I had enough money to make it on my own. I had saved up about $1,200 and graduated high school. My uncle had paid a driver to take me and LD down to TX. LD had to go with me because I under the age of 25 and she had to sign paper work stating she wouldn't be helping me with any student loans. We set out for TX and we are driving her van as my uncle's truck had broken down the day before and he only had his huge work truck that wouldn't be feasible to take. We get about 4 hours into the trip and LD is getting frustrated. She told us she's tired of being in the van and she no longer wants to do this. She orders the driver to pull over in the next city. He does as she says because it's her van and she kicks me out onto a sidewalk. I have a bag of cloths and $1,200 in my pocket. They then take off and I watch them drive away and I keep watching for a few moments to make sure they are not coming back.

I felt a relief sensation rush over my body, I'm free! I'm finally free! Of course this isn't where I wanted to be at as 4 hours south of Kentucky isn't TX at all. I picked up my bag and walked up the side walk and I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I could get a bus ticket and make my way down to TX but I don't have the first idea where a bus station is. Please understand that I had never been outside of my home town before this. I had never even met a person of any other race before. All I've ever done was go to school and work on a farm. I had no real education and hardly made it out of school. I come across a school in a shopping center and I decided to check it out. The school isn't even around today and was shut down because it a for profit school that gave you no value, and of course I had no idea at the time. I walk in and talk with the front desk about getting info on the school. She sends me to talk with a lady in admissions and I explain to her my situation. She tells me how I can get funding to go here and how she can get my housing tonight. They had a school housing program where they would put four students in a two bedroom apartment. She had me forge LD's signature on paper work about financial aid. I go to this two year college and get a Associates Degree in Computer Science. I start working for a major computer company right out of college. I save every dime I can and only spend money when I need to. I buy my first truck with cash a year after starting at my job.

My Second Revenge

I was still keeping tabs on my sister back in Kentucky. At this point my sister is about to get married and I'm going to walk her down the aisle at the church LD always took us to growing up. Please understand that LD is a big figure at her church and well respected, this is important to understand for later. I drive up the weekend of the wedding and get a hotel room about an hour outside of where we grew up. My sister's best friend in the world and that's even true today calls me and we'll call her KB. She tells me that my sister's fiance is abusive to her and she want's to call the wedding off but LD told her she couldn't and not to embarrass her at the church. LD knows that he's abusive to my sister and has told her she needs to obey him as he will be her husband. On the day of the wedding I walk my sister down the aisle like normal. The pastor does his thing and says some words and what not then comes the part where he asks if anyone thinks they shouldn't be married they must speak now. This is where I stand up and say, "I object to my sister being married to an abusive drunk." You could hear a pin drop for a moment and LD's face is blood red. I then go on to say how LD had know about the abuse and told my sister she was going to get married no matter what and not to "embarrass her" here today. LD then loudly exclaims that I'm a known lair and everyone knows they can't believe a word I say. The pastor at this point asks me to please leave and my sister spoke up for me. Telling everyone that what I had said was the truth and we ran out of the church together. LB was later removed from the church management and asked to please not come back to the church as they don't believe in abuse (I know what you're thinking). Oh man, I wish I could have been in the pastor's office to hear this conversation and to see the look on her face. After all of this happened my sister moved in with KB where she would later meet her husband.

The Final Revenge

It had been about 7 years now from the wedding crash. I'm now married and I have a house of my own and living a great life. My sister had married a real man who treats her right and they have a great little girl together. KB is now working at the county court house and does a lot of work with properties and taxes. She calls me one day to tell me LD's property tax is way behind and they didn't get the tax lien lifted and now they will have a tax deed sale of the property. I knew this was my time to strike and pay them back for a fraction of the pain they had caused me. I show up at the auction and the only other person to show up was JPD and his wife. When he noticed me he turned pale and then tried to be all buddy buddy with me. I was very friendly and he asked me why I'm here. I tell him it's to help keep the property in the family and I had no problem helping out. I let him know if I get ownership I'll pay the taxes for them so they won't need to worry about this being a problem again ever again. His brother DD had given him the money needed to purchase the property back so he had cash with him to pay for the taxes and fees. I told him to keep the cash and let them know you took care of the taxes. So the bidding starts at a little over $2,000 because of the back due taxes and fees. I bid on it and JPD doesn't. I easily win and now have instant ownership of the propriety. I go down the the court house with JPD and I finish all of the paper work with KB.

LD had fallen behind on the property taxes because she was giving the money to JPD to pay it. Well it turns out JPD is what we call a "pill head" and was using the money to buy drugs. LD didn't keep foster kids anymore because of her age she wasn't allowed to so they didn't have any money coming in besides disability and SSI. When I arrived to the house I told LD how I regret being a horrible child and now that I'm older I've grown out of it. I let her know how much of a mother she was to me when I didn't have one and that I was here to pay her back. I told her now that I own the property she'll never need to worry about property taxes ever again. I let her know I'm going to remodel her house but she can't live in it at the same time. I told her this works out, because I won the bid the county would automatically evict them. LD is a person who thinks we've never been to the moon, so tricking her into believing me was easy. She told me she could stay at DD's house while I'm remodeling hers and she was very excited. I told her not to worry about any of the belongs they have as I'll make sure they are covered up and moved when needed. I tell her a lawyer will be sending some paper work over to her in a few days. I then hire a lawyer to do an ejectment of LD and JPD from the property. I don't know if I could have done this a different way, but this was the advice I was given at the time. It took about two months for everything to be fully mine and them evicted. With them evicted and now that all the belongs have stayed in the house past 30 days, I now own all of it.

I got in contact with the local fire department to find out what I needed to do in order to burn a house down on my property. They informed me that it has to be a controlled burn, I'll need a permit to close off the road as the home sits near a public road and I had to have the water shut off and the power disconnected. The water was easy but it took awhile for the power because they had to remove all the wires running to the pole and remove the transformer. The fire department gave me a date and time I was allowed to do the burning and I coordinated with the sheriffs office to close the road. I got my permit from the city and now I just had to sit and wait.

The day of the great fire, I prep the house with lots of straw inside and I made sure to take all of the doors down and open all of the windows as I wanted this to burn as fast as possible. I go to DD's house to visit JPD and LD. I told them I wanted to take them out by the old oak tree for lunch. This tree was in a field across the road from the home. When we worked on the farm we would eat lunch in the summer under the shade of this tree. LD is in a wheelchair and JPD has a bad back so he doesn't move around too well and almost needs a wheelchair. Drop them off and I tell them to enjoy the snacks and I'll be right back as I'm going to set fire to the old stuff I ripped out of the house. It's really common for people where we live to burn trash. I called the fire department to let them know I was going to start the fire and made sure they had the address. I met with the officers closing the road off let them know I was about to begin and they might encounter some family members trying to get by them and not to let them. I then went behind and started fires from under the house with packed straw. I'm standing beside them while they eat and chat with me about life and what I've been doing with my career. It's not too long before the fire starts to peek around the sides of the home. They start screaming about the fire and we need to call 911. This is when I told them I had the road closed and the fire department already knew that I was going to burn my house down on my property. I told them what they are seeing is just a fraction of the pain they had caused me over the course of my life and I want them to know what a fraction of my pain feels like as I could never fully make them understand. At this point JPD is trying to call his brothers and I reminded him I have the road closed and they can't get by. It takes less than 20 minutes for the house to collapse into a heap of junk. The whole time I'm watching them as they sit and sob. JPD tries to fight me and I just just move away from him as he's high and can't really move well anyway. About 30 minutes as passed and the fire gone with just smoke and embers glowing. I get in my car and drive back home knowing that they have now lost almost everything they have. They didn't lose has much as I have, but it was the closest thing to it.

Closing

LD passed away in 2010 and JPD lives with this wife in an old trailer somewhere. I still own the property today and refuse to sell it to anyone because I don't want them to ever have the chance of owning the property again. I go back every year to check on the property to make sure they haven't moved a trailer on it or something on my land. From my understanding the property was in the family for more than 100 years. I haven't talked to any of them and never plan to. What I want is anyone reading this to take away that abuse is never ok, EVER! If you're being abused do not listen to the people abusing you. They will lie and put you down to hold control over you. If you can help anyone that you know that's being abused please, please help them get help.

Writing none of this was easy, but after writing about people screwing me over in life as an adult I felt a great relief and I had some people message me about how my story helped them. I hope this story can help someone else and just so you know I don't wish death or harm to LD's family. Yes they were in the wrong for how they treated me and other kids, but I've learned you can't control the past but you can have influence on your future.

(source) story by (/u/Citrow)

#prorevenge #by /u/Citrow #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[caribbeanempressblog]

Equilibrium pt 2

Pairing: Yoongi x Assassin reader

Plot: He was just another target in your book for the right price but you didn't not expect was his six year old daughter standing there while you hold a gun to her father's head.

Word count : 3.7k

part 1

Tension when Yoongi refuse to give her the information she seeks. Will she finish the job she was given or will show the stubborn dad a little bit of patience. Secrets are revealed as she search for answers as to who set her up and why.

Warning : none to note 

"Multiple heat signature detected " came the automated welcome as you punched in the security code to your house, Ada already picking up the fact that you hadn't returned home alone as the door slide open as you punched the last key to usher in the guest you've unexpectedly picked up along the way. Min Yoongi nodded politely as he carried his sleeping daughter hands wrapped around his neck tightly into your living room you entered behind him locking the door behind you.

"Ada compile all the information you have on the recent client" you commanded you had to know what you were dealing with.

"Commencing data search".

"A talking house?" Min Yoongi asked more like stated with a raised eyebrow as he glanced around his surroundings.

"Ada is more than that" you replied as you brushed passed him and made your way to the stairs. "Follow me you can put her down up here".

You glance back at him to make sure he was following and your eyes meet for a second now that he was in the light you could see them clearly a honey brown deep and mesmerizing as they gaze back at you. Min Yoongi had breathtaking eyes you could get lost in beautiful breathtaking eyes like the man himself. He was handsome the picture you had of him didn't do him any justice his features soft but firm at the same time his skin like the color of snow.

"Data complete".

You blink turned away but not before his eyes turned cold on you again and you cursed yourself for staring.

"Thank you Ada" you replied as not just for the information but saving you from an embarrassing situation as you ascend the stairs.

You reached the top of your stairs and made a right towards one of the spare bedroom turned the door open and flip the light switch then entered.

"I don't usually have guests over so I hope this is ok for her" you said as you fluffed the pillow on the bed and shake the sheets. The room was nice enough you didn't know why you bother decorating it but it had all the essentials four poster bed in the middle of a closet off to the side with matching dressing table even an En suite bathroom.

"It's fine thank you" he said curtly as he gently laid the child down upon the bed then pulled the covers over her. He brushed a stray hair from her face and she mumble something in her sleep as she chased after his hand when he pulled away a fond smile tugging on his lips.

You stood there watching your heart doing odd things at how gentle he was being the love he had for the child was undeniable and once again you were reminded that you almost took that away from her.

"We need to talk" you said voice a little rough as you try to put a damper on your emotions. Min Yoongi eyes snapped towards you and once again the softness he just shown the child seemed to evaporate into thin air.

"Who did you pissed off that they want you dead?" You pressed on ignoring his cold stare.

"Noone"

"Somebody at the office maybe a promotion that you got over them?". Men had killed for less so the probability exist.

" I don't work at an office"

You eyes narrowed on him " Slept with someone wife then?"

"What kind of ridiculous question is this?" He snapped eyes blazing fire as he shot to his feet towering over you more than a head tall." You come to my home hold a gun to my head in front of my child then accuse me of sleeping with other men wives like some despicable pervert which I'm not".

You blinked, taken aback by his words all you wanted to know was what he knew any idea he had about who had set you up. You couldn't fault him for being angry but he wasn't given you much to go with and he was being ridiculously defensive.

You glared back at him" if you had answered me without one word syllabus then I wouldn't have to assume anything" you gritted mindful of the sleeping child in the room with him."But people don't order out hit on other people for no reason".

"What reason do you or anyone have for wanting me dead huh? You don't even know me how do you get up each morning and just decide I will go murder innocent people? How do you even sleep at night?".

You open your mouth but nothing came out he had rendered you speechless his words cutting deeper than you'd expect it could.It wasn't the truth but it also wasn't a lie you did murder people but no one ever called you out on this Also no one had spoken to you that way before not since the Elite but here comes Min Yoongi questioning your integrity in you own house to besides if this was any other day he would be on the ground in pain but you couldn't fault him for being angry but you had saved him and his daughter life at least he could try to be cooperative.

"You can sleep here if you like" you said turning on your heel heading for the door. " When you're ready to disclose what you know I will be waiting". You exit the room leaving him staring at your retreating back.

```````````````````````````````

"Ada run internal background check on Min Yoongi. I want to know everything".

"Searching database"

Now in the confines of your room you took a shot of whiskey you'd fetch from the kitchen after you left fuming internally from Min Yoongi. The man was stubborn and infuriating and you've only known him for what three hours. He pushed every button you didn't know  exist within you and you didn't like it.

But enough with him for one night you've had other pressing matters. After downing the liquid welcoming the burn it provided you rest the glass on your bedside table then went to your desk and click your laptop to life.

Re Vixen: You better hope I don't find you because when I do death will knocking on your door but that isn't the worst part.

You type send then sat back in your chair and waited.

It was a dangerous thing accepting a job,getting paid and not delivering in the end you are forever marked and a bounty was  placed on your head. All this was at the forefront of your mind when you made that offer to Min Yoongi. The dangers that would follow you now that you hadn't confirm the kill. It's funny how only a few hours ago you were sitting in this chair accepting this job your instinct telling you something was off but your  blood lust winning in the end. If you hadn't accepted that job what would of happen to Min Yoongi and his daughter? Would another been send or was it all part of an elaborate skim Min Yoongi being center of it. You didn't trust him not when he wouldn't divulge what he knew not when you wasn't sure if he had a part to play in all this. You realized bringing them here was a mistake  you took one look at the kid and your emotions clouded your judgement. You thought he could be of assistance to you but how could he assist you if he was part of set up without incriminating himself.

"Background search complete" came Ada automated voice pulling your from your thoughts you swung in the chair facing away from the computer.

"Information display".

You watched as several images of Min Yoongi appeared with several unknown people begun to circle your bedroom as Ada read the contents to you.

"Min Yoongi born 1986 Daegu South Korea. Parents deceased. One living older brother. Works at Hyundai cooperation. Six year old daughter Yoon Seok Min. Widower.

You heart skipped a beat at Ada last word as you sat upright as several image of a woman flashed before the screen. She was pretty and looked so young full of life, more pictures flashed across your room until your eyes landed on a family portrait. Min Yoongi and the woman stood in front of their house the one currently sitting pretty with bullet holes as they gazed into each others eyes lovingly Yoonseok standing in front of them a happy smile on her face.Yoonseok looked yonger so this had to be atleast three years ago.

"Natural causes?"

"Car crash two year ago"

Two years ago that was so recent had Min Yoongi being raising his daughter as a single dad for the past two year you wondered as more images flashed before your eyes.

You felt your heart tighten again your pity finding a way there you could imagine what he was going through raising his kid alone without her mother. It didn't help that you almost made the kid an orphan imagine losing both your parents in the span of two year no child should have to go through that.

"How did it happen ?"

"She lost control of her car and plunge off a bridge into the Han river she died on impact".

You cringe as images of the crash flashed before your eyes. You perked up at this you had to explore every option search every loophole to know what you were dealing with.

"The case file was sealed under the Seoul FBI Service".

"Sealed why? If it was an accident why would the files be sealed?"

You frowned as you looked over the contents of the file if it was an accident the FBI wouldn't have had the file sealed there had to be more to this story.  Something wasn't adding up here, Is that why Yoongi had been hesitant to answer your question that his wife was involved in something that's why the hit had been ordered on him because of what she did?

You pinch the bridge of your nose an exasperated sigh escaping you as you realize there was a lot you were missing here.

"Ada can you hack the FBI database and access the file?"

"The firewall and encryption is impenetrable" came Ada automated response.

You let out a frustrated groan as you heaved yourself out of the chair and began pacing the room.

"Run scan for deceased background what company did she work?"

"Commencing scan"

You paced back and forth as the beep of Ada hacking the police file to get the desired information filtered through the room every file she ran through then dismissed flashed across your bedroom. You hoped that filed wasn't sealed too and you could get the information you needed.

You pulled a dagger from your boots and twirl it between your fingers to help calm you down.

Something was wrong here very wrong you knew that for a fact there was no coincidences in your book. This job from the very beginning was an elaborate skim  up you should have spot that, but it was too late to dwell on that now. Min Yoongi was another piece of the puzzle but where did he fit into all this? His wife death was suspicious as well why would the FBI sealed the file if it was an accident?  Did Min Yoongi know that the file was sealed? Who was she anyways?.

"Scan complete. Images displaying now."

Several images of Min Yoongi deceased wife appeared on screen.

" Min SooYoung worked at Hang media up to the point of death. She was a reporter."

You stopped pacing at knife stilling in your hand  a reporter that was surprising and intresting  you knew a conspiracy theory was brewing the puzzle slowly starting to fall into place.

"Min SooYoung was the top reporter at Hang co-operation she uncovered a number of high profile case. The crack down on Kang cooperation was due to her discovery of illegal activity resulting in the poisoning of numerous children. The company had to pay a large sum to the families involved.

You hummed in acknowledgment" What was the last story she was working on before her death?".

"That file is also sealed" came Ada response.

Somehow you wasn't suprise already putting two and two together whatever story Min Yoongi wife was working on it probably got her killed and the FBI covered it up which means there was some big players involved people with enough power to have the police in the palm of their hands. Dirty cop wasn't uncommon but to cover up a murder that order had to come all the way from the top. You wondered if Min Yoongi knew his wife was murdered you sincerely hope he did because you didn't want to be the one to tell him.

You had no doubt tha whoever pulled to string for his wife death that  person had now hire you to end Yoongi the final piece of the puzzle which would mean he must know who his wife was trying to take down. 

````````````````````````````````````````

Morning came quicker than you liked when you finally threw yourself on your bed, it was only a second later before Ada was waking you up like she usually does. You got up rather reluctantly took a shower put on a pair of denim jeans and oversized sweater after that you pulled your gun out the drawer checked the safety then shoved it in your waist. You pulled several daggers from their safety case and placed them in your boots the other two you stuck in your belt next to your gun it was a safety precaution you really hope you didn't have to use it. You checked your email after for a response from the client only to find they hadn't responded which infuriated you more. You still had their money in your account so why were they not making stir to have that back. People didn't just drop 100k and turn their backs on it whoever this was they were plotting something you just didn't know what.

"Ada show me visuals of the house"

A second later images of your house came into focus every inch of it displayed to your gaze but you only needed one.

Being an assassin meant living on the edge you never knew who was out to get you when you killed people for a living so when you brought Ada you had the house installed with security cameras some in plain sight some hidden like the one currently sitting behind a painting in the guest room.

You looked at the images displayed before you not an inch of shame he was a stranger in your home after all as you spot Min Yoongi sitting on a chair beside the bed head resting on the edge of the bed next to his sleeping daughter. You briefly wondered if he spent the whole night like that he probably did knowing he didn't trust you,you wouldn't be surprised if he slept with one eye open.

You swipe the images away with a flick of your hands and exit the room you made your way down to your kitchen. You switched on your coffee maker listening to whirring sound as you stood there thoughts returning to the man upstairs. You needed answers and now you gave him a time to be forthcoming with the truth but he refused that option wasn't available this time around either he talk or you make him talk. You had to get to the bottom of this not only was his life in danger but yours was as well and that wasn't something you couldn't have, not now not when you had come so far you wasn't about to mess that up for anyone.

The coffee machine beeped it's finish bringing your thoughts back to the present you pulled a cup from the cupboard and poured yourself a hefty amount you popped two sugar cubes from the jar next to the coffee maker stirring it to perfection you paused before bringing it to your lips.

"I know you are there you don't have to be afraid of me " you said gently then towards the entrance to the kitchen.

You waited a few seconds until a head of black disheveled haired peeked from behind the wall.

Curious eyes stared back at you brown and sleepy but  she made no move to remove her body from behind the wall.

You smile heart turning soft once more you rest the untouched coffee back on the counter.

"You must be hungry huh?" You asked with a smile as you pulled some packet waffles from your freezer it was your favorite cinnamon flavoured hopefully she liked that one too. You tear open the packet putting the contents on a plate then put it in the heater a few seconds later the timer went off.

You took it out and rest the now warm mouth watering waffle on the island counter where she could see it putting the syrup next to it.

You smile once more when her eyes light up at the food laid out on the table but she make no move.

"You can have it if you like" you said gently as you rest a fork next to the plate then backed away.You was much aware that you were a stranger towards her just a few hours ago you was holding a gun to her father's head and shortly after that the home she loved was riddled with bullets. You didn't think she fully understand what had happened or that she'd be too traumatized by it she still had the innocence of a toddler but you weren't about to take advantage of that you would let her come to you on her own.

"Daddy says I mustn't talk to strangers" the little voice tells you as much to remind herself of the century old saying and to let you know.

" If I tell you my name and you tell me yours won't that make us less like strangers".

She tilted her head to the side as she thought about what you told her and if it made sense.

"I'm Yoonseok" came the reply as she finally remove herself from behind the wall teddy bear gripped tightly in front of her. She was still wearing the clothes you last saw her in her matching barbie pyjamas feet bare on the tiles.

"Hello Yoonseok I'm Y/n" you said with a smile as she stepped a little closer eyes big and shining with wonder at the food on the table.

"You can have it if you like" you told her she watched from you to the food then finally made her way over resting her teddy on the marble top then climbing the stool to position herself in front of the food. She didn't hesitate after that picking up the fork and taking a chunk out the waffle stuffing her mouth with it forgoing the use of the syrup. You watched her eat in silent gushing inside at how cute of a child she was. She resembled her mother somewhat her beauty shining through but she had her father's eyes and pale skin.

"Can I have some milk please?" Yoonseok asked pulling you from your thoughts as she looked at you with questioning eyes.

"Sure thing sweetie" you said as you head to your fridge to pull out a carton of milk pouring the contents into a glass and placing beside the now empty plate. She muttered thank you and you then took a generous sip as marveled at how well mannered she was for a toddler her father was doing a good job of raising her.

You couldn't imagine growing up without a mother up until the time you were kidnapped your mother had always been there for you loving you supporting you when you needed her the most she was there. That mother daughter relationship was prominent in your life every little girl should be able to experience that but sadly she wouldn't have that. Some cruel twist of fate taking that away from her. You found yourself wondering if you were one of those evil people who took mothers from their daughters.

"Yoonseok"

Your stilled eyes snapping up at his deep voice suddenly filling the silence of your kitchen to see him stood there eyes blazing as he walked into the room to stand beside his daughter.

"What did I say huh?" He questioned the child eyes still drilling into you. You stared back at him well good morning to you too.

The child face dropped as she realized her error "but papa miss y/n and I are friends she even made me pancakes". She said with a pout eyes now meeting her father shining with cuteness.

"Yoonseok why don't you go watch your favorite cartoon in the living room while daddy and I have a little chat" it wasn't a question he knew it nor was he in a position to deny you this request. He simply nodded when Yoonseok seeked his permission and she squealed with delight as she got of the chair to ran into the living room with glee as you command Ada to play the appropriate children channel you turn your attention back to the man. His hair was disheveled and sticking out like he hadn't bother to look in the mirror. His face was puffy due to haven't now waken up but his eyes held no such softness they were cold and dark like the bottom of the ocean. If you wasn't the person you are you would have been intimidated as you're sure many who have stood in his presence had been but you stood ground. You had given him the whole night this was as far as your patience and generosity go you couldn't get soft now not when there was people out there trying to kill you not when your whole world had been turned upside down in a split second.Not when somebody set you up and used him to do it he had to know you wasn't one to taken lightly that your kindness isn't weakness.

"I'm only going to say this once you tell me what I need to know or  I will mop the floor with your blood".

#equilibrium pt 2 #min yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #assassin reader x yoongi #assasssin au #yoongi smut #min yoongi

[zaeedmassanis]

can you do aina?

oh that’s my GIRL !!!! i’ve been thinking about her so much lately bc i just finished my me1 playthrough with mshep and i,,,,miss her thanks for askin about her !!!!!!

1. full name: aina mayfair shepard (aina means always in finnish. her great-grandmother was finnish and had taught her mother a few words - it was supposed to be a promise, that her mother would always be there for her, but. well. mayfair is the name of the street she was born on, but she doesn’t know that - she didn’t even know her full name until the day she enlisted)2. best friend: joker, hands the fuck down. it’s - she doesn’t know how they clicked so quickly when they first met, but - threatening joker is her berserk button, probably (it doesn’t help that he’s the only one of her friends that can’t keep himself alive even when he’s safely ensconced in the cockpit - go eat). (garrus is a pretty decent second, though)3. sexuality: bless her heart she is So Straight4. favourite colour: blue ! it reminds her of neon signs and the electronics shops she spent too much time in as a kid5. relationship status: dating garrus lmao6. ideal mate: someone who challenges her, pushes her to be the best she can be but will still hold her when she’s Not Quite There yet. garrus vakarian, probably7. turn-ones: hooooooooooo boy competence is the Biggest One but also !!!! dexterity !!!! Good Hands !!!8. favourite food: actual (not tank-grown) steak, from a real-ass earth cow raised on real-ass earth grass. had it for the first time in her life when anderson took her out to celebrate being accepted to n school and never looked back9. crushes: she contemplates joker for a Good While but like. you can’t really Force these things - at least she can’t - and while joker would be easier, friendlier, he’s. well, he’s not a big spiky turian who always has her back and has really good hands, besides.10. favourite music: actually a big fan of slow jazz 11. biggest fear: being confined to one place forever. it was bad enough when she was under house arrest for six months - she’s ready to get another ship now and get the Hell off earth.12. biggest fantasy: exploration. if the reapers weren’t around and if she was. you know. alive, she would have signed her ass up for the andromeda initiative as soon as she Possibly could. as it stands after the war, she’s got too much tying her to the milky way, now (she could never leave her crew behind, not again, not even if they’re not her crew anymore). but she still dreams of the stars.13. bad habits: idk if this is a Habit per se but she refuses to cut her hair. it’s up in a bun all the time anyways and maybe it gets a bit heavy but it’s like. a Whole Thing with her, being able to grow it out instead of just takin scissors to it and hacking away every few months like she did when she ran with the reds. she also does this thing where somehow every single position she finds herself doing work in is Hell on her shoulders or back or something, but she’s too stubborn to train herself out of it. there’s always medigel, right?14. biggest regret: leading kaidan on while they were chasing saren down. he was always so much more interested - so much more committed than she was, and she just never found the time (or so she tells herself) to sit down and Have A Talk with him. that didn’t end well at a l l15. best kept secrets: she never talks about her family. after the war, Some Events (this is a fic i’m workin on lol) bring much of it to light, but - her mother was a red sand addict and she never knew who her father was.16. last thought: she’s stuck at a desk job on earth right now and she is yearning for the stars. weird, maybe, for a woman who’s been spaced, but she’s wanted them since she saw a starship for the first time on a tiny television screen in a storefront display, and she won’t let them go for anything. 17. worst romantic experience: hOOOOO boy she dated this one boy when she was sixteen and thinking about leaving the reds. he was the most straight laced person she had ever met and thought that she would make him More Adventurous or some shit. she wanted him to make her Normal. it was - bad, and she broke it off after two months.18. biggest insecurity: weird to think about, but her appearance. she’s always put on a bit too much makeup, she thinks, and her eyebrows are a Hot Mess, and she knows that she looks awkward as all get-out in a dress. she’s never really dwelt on it before - never had the luxury, but - sometimes some things bring it out.19. weapon of choice: she likes to stick to basics. a good ol’ predator (modded out the ass, of course) is More than enough for her. (she does have a huge soft spot for the widow, of course, but most of the time she’s too impatient to snipe.)20. role model: david anderson lmao 

#the kestrel speaks #aina shepard #talizorahs #ask games #my ocs

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

 Whiskey and Sunset Nights by T.L. Anderson

Single Dad’s Series

 Emotions aplenty as I read this book. I was swept in and stayed invested throughout this short heartfelt deeply moving book.

 What I liked:

* Gray: such a good person, loving father, grief-stricken widow, wonderful son and brother, great friend, skilled builder ~ a man who endures and lives his life to the fullest no matter what comes his way.

* Ella: five-six year old daughter that misses her mother, is filled with love and life and joy, very active, accepting, a great character.

* Missy: The deceased wife of Gray and the best friend of Lily – a woman I admired and was sorry had died too soon. She was a bright light and enduring positive presence in more than one life.

* Lily: bookstore owner, best friend of Lily, good friend of Gray’s, friend to Grays brother and father, open and caring and giving and helpful ~ She was perfect as a person and character and love interest in this story.

* Asher: Gray’s younger brother, caterer, fun-loving, supportive ~ liked him

* Gray’s father: an anchor and safe place to land for Gray when he needed to change things after Missy died.

* The small town setting

* That there was no great drama but instead a slow warm friendship that grows into so much more.

* The way the aspect of grief was handled

* That it felt “real” and believable

* That there was a happy ending

 What I didn’t like:

* That Missy died…and being reminded that too many people are taken by cancer long before they and their loved ones are ready to have them leave.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

 Thank you to the author and IndiePen for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

Release Tour for Whiskey and Sunset Nights

by T.L. Anderson

 Grayson Pierce is struggling as a single dad but he’s doing the best he can in his new normal, until feelings for his late wife’s best friend, Lily Dean start to grow more than expected. Can they work through their loss together while falling in love with each other? Readers will swoon for this second chance romance featuring a sexy widower. Fall in love with your next book boyfriend with Whiskey and Sunset Nights by T. L. Anderson, the next book in the Single Dad’s Romance series.

  Read Now!

 Amazon → https://amzn.to/3dDhj75

 BLURB

Grayson

 After losing the love of his life to cancer, Grayson Pierce finds himself struggling with his new normal as a single dad. Moving back home to southern Minnesota with his five-year-old daughter Ella, feels like the only option to keep his sanity.

 Living on his family farm, he spends his days taking care of Ella and running his construction company - working small jobs to keep his mind off things. Until Lily Dean shows up in his kitchen.

 Lily

 Losing her best friend to cancer was the worst thing that could have happened to her. Having Ella and Grayson back in her hometown, keeps the memories of her friend burning in her mind.

 Spending her days running her own bookstore, Lily takes Ella under her wing, allowing her to explore the world of books and helping her cope with the loss of her mother. But then, there’s Grayson.

 He’s her best friend’s husband, or was.

 With each passing day, Lily and Grayson find their once casual friendship slowly flourishing into something more.

 Can they work through their respective loss and let love in or are they destined for nothing more than a few shots of whiskey and sunset nights?

  Add to Goodreads!

 Goodreads → https://bit.ly/3tVZ4PK

  EXCERPT

 Copyright 2021 TL Anderson

 My dad takes a sip of his coffee, listening intently as Ella tells him about all the stops her and Uncle Ash took. Apparently, they stopped at a rest stop that had a gigantic rubber band ball in a case, and it had over 3,000 rubber bands wrapped around it. “That’s pretty neat there, kid. I bet it was fun taking all those stops with Uncle Ash. Did you see any animals while you were driving here?” Dad asks her.

           “We did!” She looks at her hands, her eyebrows drawn down as she counts off her fingers. “We saw cows and pigs. Oh, and horses!”

           “Don’t forget the llama,” Asher chimes in as he enters the kitchen. I glance up at him while taking a sip of my coffee and freeze mid-sip as I see who’s standing next to him. My heart races as my stomach drops out.

           “Hey there, Gray.” Lily Dean stands before me.

           My heart stops as I see the only other woman who can shatter me to pieces again. Something inside of me wants to let her. Seeing her makes me feel something besides numbness. Something raw and visceral.

           Her brown hair hangs down her back in thick curls, and her blue eyes are hesitant as she stands off to the side of Asher with her hands clasped in front of her. She’s wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a plain white T-shirt, which makes her tanned skin pop.

           Asher walks over to Ella, picking her up and placing her on his shoulders. “Come on, kid, let’s go see your new room.” Without another word, they head out of the kitchen.

           My dad pushes up from his seat, coffee mug still in hand. “I’m going to go help them before they cause too much chaos.” He stops next to Lily and kisses her on the cheek in a fatherly way. “It’s good to see you, Lils.”

           She breaks eye contact with me to look at my dad, her gaze filled with gratitude. “Good to see you too, Mr. Pierce.”

           “I told you call me Jack. You’re not the scraggly little ten year old anymore. We’re all friends here,” Dad calls out as he disappears from the room.

           “Lily,” I breathe out. The last time I saw her was at Missy’s funeral. Lily and Missy were inseparable. She’d come and visit us out east every year and stay for a few weeks, and she and Missy would stay up late to catch up on gossip from back home. When she showed up to the funeral, it felt like my heart was being ripped out yet again. It was always Missy and Lily. So how am I supposed to look at her now without seeing the absence of my dead wife?

           She clears her throat while shifting from one foot to the other. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just stopping by to drop your dad off some old truck manuals I found for him. He’s been fixing up that old 1972 Chevy parked in the garage. It needs a lot of work, but I think he’ll get it running again soon.” She’s rambling on about the truck, and all I can do is stare at her. “Anyways, so I didn’t realize you’d be here today. I mean I knew you were coming back home, but I didn’t know it was today. I better get going so you all can get settled in.” She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit she’s had since she was a kid.

           “It’s fine. Stay for dinner with us.” My mouth blurts out the invitation before my brain can think through if this is a good idea or bad.

           Her eyes widen. “Oh no, I can’t intrude. Ella needs time to get comfortable, and I’m sure she’ll want to spend time with Jack.”

           Just at that moment Ella comes running into the room. “Lily, if you stay for dinner, we can have a tea party after!” She squeals with excitement as she puts her hand in Lily’s catching her off guard.

    Lily looks between Ella and me. I can see the conflict written in her features as she tries to keep her distance from me, but also not let Ella down. “Oh Ells, I’d love to…”

           Before she can say anything else I cut her off, “Perfect. Ell, go wash up and you can help me and Lily cook some dinner. How about hotdogs and burgers on the grill?”

           She starts jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll be right back. Don’t start without me!” she yells while running down the hall to the bathroom.

           Lily doesn’t move. She bites her lip between her bottom teeth before speaking. “I don’t want to be a burden, Gray. I don’t want to replace…”

  AUTHOR BIO

T. L. Anderson currently lives in Wisconsin where it’s freezing cold in the winter and has five months of enjoyable weather year round. Her house is filled with constant chaos between her teenage daughter and infant son, two rambunctious dogs, a stubborn cat, and guinea pigs that keep her and her husband on their toes.   Since the age of three, she has loved reading and creating her own stories in her mind. Now her passion has developed into a career. After earning a certificate from the Children's Institute of Literature she decided it was time to put the multiple characters in her head onto paper so she can share their stories with the world.  She’s the author of multiple novels which include new adult, romantic suspense, and paranormal reverse harem.   She has a slight obsession with doughnuts, coffee, and dinosaurs. When she's not writing you can find her lurking on social media looking for new books to read, taking care of her mini-zoo at home, or having her nose stuck in a book.

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[cassiekallas]

⇋ Name; Cassandra Kaisa Marika Kallas.

⇋ Age; 22.                                                                           

⇋ Birthday; August 23, 1997.                                                                  

⇋ Astral Sign; Virgo.                                                                         

⇋ Nicknames; Cassie.                                                                      

⇋ Sexuality; Pansexual.                                                                      

⇋ Eye Color; Blue.                                                                          

⇋ Hair Color; Brown.                                                                             

⇋ Height; 5'4.                                                                                      

⇋ Identifying Marks; One scar above her left eyebrow, a few other miscellaneous scars from life and accidents while growing up..

⇋ Occupation; Princess.                                      

⇋ Nationality; Estonian.                                                                          

⇋ Marital Status; Single.                                                                    

⇋ Faceclaim; Victoria Pedretti.

— Personality; Cassie’s a sweet and generally optimistic girl. She likes to look on the bright side of things and tries to be as positive as possible regarding situations. Compassion and empathy are two of her main traits. When someone is suffering in any way, she needs to be there to try and help them. Whether it’s bandaging a wound or giving comfort to help a broken heart, Cassie is the first one to be there for a person, even if they’re a perfect strangers to her. She is probably one of the more relentless people in helping others, and it is one of the few times she doesn’t find herself being more sensitive or reactive to rudeness. If she sees someone in danger, she disregards her own safety and wellness to ensure they’re okay. Cassie is generally a more sensitive person. While name calling doesn’t affect her a lot, sometimes if they strike a chord in particular she’ll be affected. Though Cassie is brutal for hiding her pain and often just bottles away her feelings. She’s quick to respond with a sassy remark and go on. She’s a very playful person and doesn’t consider herself held back by her royal status as without a great deal of seeing her dad involved she wasn’t always raised in the royal way. In Croatia it was obvious she wouldn’t get the throne so she didn’t bother being prim, proper and snobby. She’s got no problem letting her hair down and having fun. Though a part of her always has to be controlled. She often doesn’t drink until blackout or do drugs of any kind. She doesn’t ever dress too provocatively or she refuses to spend too much money even though she has plenty. Along with this, Cassie often experiences moments of dissociation. This is heavily due to the fact that despite the fact she bottles things up as to not remember them, or her amnesia now, she still is suffering from PTSD from what has been done in the past.  Sometimes it’ll be as little as not responding a lot in conversation. Other times it can be a full on, staring off into space check out. Cassie also has a habit of being slightly paranoid and does things she doesn’t have a reason for. Such as locking the door for most rooms she is allowed to. Or sitting in the back corners of rooms. All things related to her PTSD that she isn’t aware she has. 

— Biography; Cassandra’s parents were one of the few couples who actually fell in love and got married. They had both been engaged at the time. With Cassandra’s mother being a wealthy lady whose father was a lord, and her father being the crowned prince of Estonia, champion of all of his siblings. After meeting, they broke off their engagements and talked their parents into agreeing to allow them to be engaged. Cassandra’s paternal grandfather’s were reluctant to accept, but allowed it nonetheless. The first years were happy, after being married for two they had their first child, Cassandra. She was the light of her parent’s lives, even her grandparents were happy to meet her. They loved her dearly. She was given just about everything she wanted, though her mother was determined to teach her about work ethic so she encouraged her to do things for herself, bonding with her by teaching her life skills like baking and cooking, all supervised of course.  At four years old, Cassie’s father inherited the title of king, and she became the princess and one of the next potentials to be a ruler of Estonia. At six years old, Cassie’s mother and father told her she was going to have a new baby brother or sister. She was over the moon with excitement, overjoyed to be a big sister. To her it was an honor, and she couldn’t wait to meet the new baby. Tragedy struck, and her mother suffered a late term miscarriage, one that resulted in the loss of fertility. After that, things began to grow strange. Cassandra’s father, once enamored by Cassie and her mother seemed to want nothing to do with either of them. He was always away on business, or meeting with other royals. She barely saw her father, though part of her thought it might have been worth it. He always seemed angry, or he was yelling at her mother. It wasn’t something she felt entirely comfortable with. Cassie’s mother seemed sad, but she didn’t stop trying to be a mother to her child. One night, her father was out and Cassie was given the go ahead to stay with her mother that night. It hadn’t happened since her mother had lost the baby, because her dad said dependent children didn’t make good rulers. That night, her father showed up drunk. His walking through the bedroom door woke her up. She stayed quiet as she watched him try to talk her mother into going to the other room. When her mother said she wanted to stay with the kids and repeatedly turned him down, he punched her. Cassie screamed, and while the fight was quickly broken up by a few house servants, Cassie was changed. Three months later, Cassie’s parents announced to her they’d be getting a divorce. Cassie’s mother would be leaving to stay in her estate house, and Cassie would go with her for now. For about a year, Cassie lived like this. She only saw her father occasionally, and it was always awkward. About a year and half later, her mother announced that she was to be arranged in another marriage, to the fiance she had rejected years ago to be with Cassie’s father. He was recently widowed, with a young child of his own and he understood Cassie’s mother hadn’t wanted to marry him for love. He was also a King, in Croatia. Cassie’s mother accepted, and they were soon headed off for Croatia. At first, her father put up a fight but it was quickly dropped when Cassie’s mother threatened to tell everyone what he did. Cassie liked Croatia. She even liked her new step father. Cassie watched her mother start to fall in love with the man she’d married, and she knew they were happy like Cassie had never seen her mother before. Soon, Cassie’s step brother came home from boarding school in England. He was strange, there was no doubting that, but she didn’t mind him. Slowly but surely, they adapted to each other. Most tabloids painted it as a story for the ages, love in unexpected places, and a family found from nothing. Before her stepbrother left again at the end of the summer for boarding school, he told her he liked her a lot. And he kissed her. She didn’t exactly return the feelings, and she was deeply confused by what had happened. This was not the end of the strangeness. Whenever her stepbrother would come home, things like this would happen. He’d taunt her, pull on her clothes. He did a lot of things that made her uncomfortable, like walking in while she showered. Cassie felt more estranged from her father than ever, but her paternal grandparents were desperate to try and keep her around him. So she’d go visit them, and often see her father. These visits were awkward, uncomfortable and sometimes he was downright cruel to her. But she was always happy to go home. She could even ignore her stepbrother. Even if he made her uncomfortable, kissing her and touching her when she didn’t want him to. It was only when he was home. And he wasn’t home a lot. So she justified it, considering this normal. When she was fifteen, her stepbrother was kicked out of boarding school. He came home for good to attend a private school in Croatia. Things got ugly. The small things that she had brushed off were harder to brush off. He was always there, all the time, doing things and growing more bold each time. One night, they were attending a gala and after having a glass of champagne she felt dizzy and woozy. Her stepbrother took her to her room, and finally all the weirdness came to a climax after he forced himself on her. She woke up in the morning, confused and uncertain of what had happened when he asked her if she enjoyed herself. It happened three more times. The drinking and feeling woozy, him carrying her away. She could never stop it. She just constantly told herself that it was normal, and that she wanted to do this with him. Yet, despite the lies she told herself, she convinced her mother, who was too busy with her relationship to notice what her daughter had been going through to send her to boarding school. Sure enough, she agreed and Cassie went away. Slowly but surely, Cassie suppressed all the horrible memories of her stepbrother. She forgot them, whether through willful ignorance or the trauma hurting her so badly that she’d break from the memories, so her mind was protecting her. She went on and got through school, eventually graduating and going on to start some general studies programs her mother wanted her to complete. She might not have needed it, but her mother wanted her to have a degree of some sort. On her twenty second birthday, she was home from the university she’d been attending. After a night of having fun with her friends back home, she returned home and went to bed. Later that night, a hangover driving her, she was woken and went to sip from a water glass on her nightstand table. A familiar feeling washed over her. That dizziness. The room was spinning than her step brother walked in. This time, she was lucid enough to fight him off, realizing all those memories she denied herself for years. She finally remembered all that he had done to her, and now after getting out of the world, she knew that what he had done was not right or normal. She confronted him rather violently about everything he’d done, and decided she was too much of a liability now he started to beat her. He staged it so it looked like a ‘rogue’ guard had done it. When she woke up from the coma three months later, she couldn’t consciously remember nearly the last year of her life, or what her step brother had done for her. After two weeks in the hospital, her grandparents came to her and told her that her father was sick, and soon she may be considered for a royal position. They wanted her to be their choice to endorse as their heir. Her mother didn’t agree to the idea of having her daughter who just woke up hauled away. But something told Cassie to do what her grandparents wanted. She agreed to study to become Queen. They started the ball rolling by sending her to The Estate, where they assumed she would end up receiving an education while also recovering her health.

[genderexpansivemormons]

Story #5

My name is Valerie Nicole Green. I am a transgender woman who remains active in the church. I am widowed as of 2016 after 34 years of marriage. I have five children and six grandchildren. At my request, I am still known as “father” and “grandfather” to them. I knew from my earliest memories that I was different, though I probably could not have told you that I was living a life in the wrong gender. I didn't understand it. Around the age of 10, I learned, as a result of my love for tennis and reading a story about Dr. Renee Richards (the first, and as far as I know, only professional transgender women tennis player), that social and physical transition were possible. I knew then that that's what I wanted in life, but was also acutely aware that it was unlikely to happen. My mother always "knew." As a young single mother of two small boys she was doing everything she could to raise us as well as she could. I remember several talks in which she asked me to stop dressing in her clothes. She bought Skousen's "So You Want to Raise a Boy" and would have me read passages from it. I am certain that she bought this book because of her concerns for me. I have no memory of what those passages said. I just remember these sessions with my mom. I bear her no ill will for how she handled things. She was doing the best she could. There's no way to know how she would have worked with a group like Mama Dragons if it existed then. She passed away in 2018. So I lived an approximation of a normal Mormon boy's life. Boy Scouts, scout camp, Aaronic Priesthood, Melchizedek Priesthood, etc. My wife and I married and were sealed in the Washington DC temple at 18 (no mission for either of us) because someone was dumb enough to tell us that we couldn't. We started our family, raising five children, and lived what appeared to be a common Mormon life. My wife had no idea that I was transgender. In the mid-90s we were in couples counseling (because we lived a normal Mormon life, not a perfect Mormon life) and my therapist challenged me to document who I was. Not what I do, not what I find interesting, but who I am. Scary stuff, that. I finally realized that the secret I had harbored for so many years needed to come to light. Over the next couple of weeks I finally shed all of the guilt and shame that had been heaped upon me by both church and society. I finally revealed myself to her and to my wife. For now, we'll just say that things were rocky for a bit and compromises were reached. Part of that meant that I lived as a closeted crossdresser for the next 20+ years. The kids were not informed because we did not want our children to have to keep secrets about their parents and we were not making any of this public. As recently as the spring of 2018 I thought I might still live this dual life. But one evening as I was sitting in an outdoor theater waiting for a play to start, enjoying Valerie time, I looked around and realized that "this" was right. It was time to shed the facade I had created and lived behind for my protection and that of my family for so many decades. I informed family, church, and work. I socially transitioned at home immediately, letting the kids know that I would no longer be anyone but myself in my own home. I let work know that my transition date there would be January 1, 2019. I told church the same thing, but since they decided to impose membership restrictions immediately (in August of 2018), I transitioned there without waiting. My ward has been amazing. It took some of them a little while, but there were some members who were immediately on board. I've been told of the conversations that occurred both at church and in homes. Questions were asked and allies responded. This was happening in the background without my knowledge. I have never felt anything but love and acceptance from my ward members. Even the leaders who were the messengers of my restrictions were kind and loving. I don't for a second believe that they agreed with any of them. That was an entirely institutional thing. One thing of note is that my RS President became an advocate. She worked within my restrictions to include me in every way she could. She let it be known to the Bishopric that my presence was welcome in RS. Since I could not be assigned visiting teachers, she made certain that I was assigned a ministering couple rather than ministering brothers. When she explained why to the couple assigned to me, their response was "That's the best reason I've ever heard for assigning a couple." When the new handbook came out, finally codifying a policy for transgender member participation, she contacted me within hours to let me know that she had already contacted the Bishopric to request that I be allowed to attend RS meetings and activities. The Bishop called me just a few days later to officially invite me to Relief Society. I thanked him through tears. My RS President has been a perfect example of ministering to a transgender member. I can't thank her enough. So here I am. A 56-year-old transgender lesbian woman. I am an ordained High Priest. I have been a Ward Executive Secretary, an Elder's Quorum President, a High Priest Group Leader, a Ward Financial Clerk, a Stake Financial Auditor, etc. (The church has been ordaining women for decades, they just didn't know it.) I finally found the rest of the LGBTQ+ Mormon members. Like most of us, I had no idea that we were around in such numbers. I also had no idea there were so many allies within the church. As I mentioned to my Bishop, when someone comes to him or anyone in his position and informs him that they are a member of the LGBTQ+ community, he has no official resources to give them for support and to help them thrive as a queer member who wishes to remain fully active in the church. Since I will always obviously be transgender, I have made it one of my missions to be visible and to be a support to those who may be struggling. Whether that struggle is understanding of self, understanding of family members (especially spouses), how and when to come out, or how to thrive either within or without the organization of the church, I will do what I can to help— always bearing in mind that I'm no mental health professional. A friend of mine, Second Counselor in our Stake Presidency, made this comment as he was releasing me from my last calling. He said, "I understand you will be navigating the gospel and unique and interesting ways." Truer words were never spoken.

https://transsaintstories.com/story5

#transsaintstories #queerstake

[gracewithducks]

“Let us open wide our hearts.” - Katharine Drexel (Luke 12:13-21)

This fall, we’ve been spending some time with modern day saints – some of the faithful men and women who have lived in the last century. So far we’ve heard the story of Father Kolbe, a Polish priest who helped Jewish refugees during the Second World War, and ultimately offered his life in Auschwitz in order that another man might live; we’ve heard the story of Josephine Bakhita, a young woman born in the Sudan, kidnapped and sold into slavery, only to find her faith and her freedom on the other side of the world; and we’ve shared the story of Nelson Mandela, whose life-long work against apartheid cost him nearly three decades in prison – and who, while in prison, invited even his guard to sit side by side with him at the table of Christ. We’ve been reminded that there is power in living, and there is power in dying, but no matter what, as the people of God, when it comes to issues of peace and justice – we cannot sit apart; we cannot stay silent.

 Today we are scheduled to talk about Katharine Drexel, the first canonized saint to have been born a United States citizen – and I promise, we will talk about Katharine Drexel, because hers is a life worth remembering – but before we talk about the first American saint, I want to talk a moment to talk about America itself.

 And friends, I’m an American. I’m an American, because I was born here, and I was born here, because a few generations back, some courageous souls decided to risk everything, to leave their homes and old lives behind in pursuit of something new, in this new land across the sea. I grew up in the United States, singing “My Country, ‘tis of Thee” and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance with my peers. I grew up reading Little House on the Prairie and playing with American Girl dolls; I watched the Olympics and cheered “USA!” with the crowds for every gold medal won, and I didn’t just stand for but played the national anthem before our high school football games.

 This is my home. This is, as the song says, the country where my heart is. But because I love it, I want so  much more for us.

 I believe in the ideals that the United States was founded up: equality and liberty, for all people. But I believe it’s dangerous when we forget that “all people” hasn’t ever really meant all people yet – when we try to shove the skeletons of our past back into the closet – when we find ourselves repeating our mistakes and perpetuating our prejudices.

 And I also, quite frankly, believe that it’s dangerous to elevate individual freedoms, and individual happiness, above all other goals and values in life; the American Dream – while a lovely idea – so often, in practice, turns out to be just an illusion, a mirage, glimmering on the horizon, but for so many, no matter how long and hard they work, the dream never arrives… and for those who do achieve the American Dream, they still wrestle with discontentment, because “more” is never enough. And so we create a voraciously consumerist culture; we create an ever-deepening divide between the rich and the poor; we continue to divide ourselves along class and race and color lines… and we fear each other, and we distrust each other, and – in our pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness, we end up creating a place where people die senselessly, where freedoms are reserved for a chosen few, and where nobody is ever really happy at all.

 In the pursuit of the American dream, we’ve created a nightmare. And this, friends, is why I want to talk about Katharine Drexel, our own home-grown saint… because just like Jesus turned expectations upside-down, when he said the last shall be first, and the greatest is the servant, and blessed are the hungry, and the poor, and the meek – Katharine, by her life and by her faith, challenges us to turn our understanding of the American dream on its head.

 Katharine[1] was born into the American dream. She was born in Philadelphia in 1858, the second child of a wealthy investment banker and his wife. When she was just five weeks old, however, her mother died, and so Katharine and her sister spent the next two years in the care of their aunt and uncle, until their father remarried and the girls were brought back home, and a younger sister soon joined the family.

 Katharine and her sisters were raised with every privilege and advantage possible. The girls were educated by private tutors; they toured parts of the United States and Europe. And they were also raised to recognize that not everyone was as well-off as they; twice a week, the family home became a distribution center, where the Drexels offered food, clothing, and rental assistance. When they heard of someone, often a widow or lonely single woman, who was too proud to ask for help, the family would quietly seek them out and find ways to meet needs without sacrificing anyone’s dignity. As Katharine’s stepmother Emma would teach the daughters, “Kindness may be unkind if it leaves a sting behind.”

 By all appearances, Katharine  loved and respected Emma, the only mother she had ever known. It was Emma who taught Katharine how to care for others; it was Emma who cared for her. But it was Emma’s three-year struggle with terminal cancer that taught Katharine another lesson: she learned that, while money can buy a lot, while money can give a lot and do a lot – no amount of money can protect you from pain or save you from death.

 Katharine started to reflect on her own young life. She thought about the times that had moved her, and she discovered a deep and abiding passion to relieve the suffering of the Native American people. And so she started to support, both financially and personally, numerous missions and missionaries working here in the US.

 When Katharine’s father died, much of his resources were left to a variety of charities and causes. But even after those monies were doled out, the three sisters still stood to inherit a huge estate – and “huge” may actually be an understatement here. To protect his daughters from fortune hunters, however, their father stipulated that – while the young women controlled the remaining fortune, it would never belong to their spouses, and couldn’t be willed to anyone else; on their deaths, it would pass to their children alone. Should none of the sisters have children, when they died, the remaining fortune would be redistributed to a variety of charitable causes.

 But the women were still young yet; Katherine wasn’t even married. Her heart and passion were still for making a difference for the peoples around her. Shortly after their father’s death, the three sisters were received in private audience by the Pope, where they pleaded for missionaries to be sent to staff the Indian missions they were financing. And it was at this meeting that the Pope suggested that Katharine become a missionary herself. I wasn’t at that meeting – but I’ve been a part of enough others to imagine the conversation went something like this: “You say that God needs someone; what if God is calling you? What if God doesn’t just want you to send your money – but what if God is sending you?”

 Katharine wrestled with this idea, she prayed to discern her own calling – and she came to believe that, yes, this is where God was calling her, this is how she wanted her life to be spent. The day that Katharine entered the convent where she would prepare to take her vows and be trained as a missionary, the local paper, the Philadelphia Public Ledger, ran the banner headline: “Miss Drexel Enters a Catholic Convent – Gives Up Seven Million.” Because, as a nun, she would have no children, she was forfeiting her share in her father’s inheritance.

 And yes, seven million is a lot of money – but to put it in perspective, that’s more like one hundred and seventy-two million dollars today. No wonder people were shocked; no wonder they were amazed.

 But Katharine was convinced. She committed herself and her life to issues of social justice, almost a century before ideas of equality came to the forefront of the American consciousness. She started opening schools everywhere she could: schools for Native American children, schools for African American children, schools for the kids that were too often and easily being forgotten, ignored and overlooked.

 And Katharine established her own religious congregation, the sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, dedicated to the ideas of social justice… and they realized those ideal weren’t shared by all their neighbors, when a stick of dynamite was discovered near their new motherhouse. But Katharine wasn’t swayed; if anything, she believed more than ever that the work she was about, the work God had called her to, was vitally important, and not just “someday” in the future – but today.

 Because neither Katharine nor her sisters ever had children, on her death, their father’s estate was divided among several charitable causes. But even without the Drexel fortune behind them, Katharine’s order and schools continue their work still to this day.

 Katharine lived to be ninety-six years old. She was born in the years leading up to the Civil War; she saw not one but two world wars… and she died before the Civil Rights moment really began in earnest. She was a woman ahead of her time; she was a woman who left an incredible legacy behind her, including one hundred forty-five missions, and sixty-two schools for minority students – and Xavier University of Louisiana, the only historically black college in the US, owes its existence in part to Katharine Drexel, the rich white northern girl.

 The American Dream says: work hard, and you’ll get rich; pass your riches on to your children, so they won’t have to work so hard. The American way says, More is never enough; it says, whoever dies with the most toys, wins.

 But that’s not God’s way. And that’s why I love Katharine’s story: she flips the script upside-down. Rather than resting on her father’s fortune, she gave it up and gave it away. Rather than getting caught up in the game of me-first, look-out-for-number-one, rather than worrying about creating a huge inheritance to pass on to her own children – she invested her life, her inheritance, in other people’s children: in children who didn’t look like her, who came from households very different from her own – she spend her life loving and teaching and helping as many children as she could, because she believed that we’re all God’s children, in the end.

 In our scripture for today, Jesus tells the parable of a rich man who – when faced with even more wealth than he’d ever dreamed of having – decides that the best thing to do is to build bigger barns, to store all his grain, so that he will be set for the rest of his life. And he’s not wrong, except that the rest of his life turns out to be much shorter than he’d planned. You fool! God says to the man, you fool! Your life will be demanded of you this very night, and then what will you have to show for yourself?

 There’s wisdom in planning for the future. I’m saving for retirement, no doubt. But there also comes a point where you have more than you need, where saving turns into hoarding – and all those things that were once good start to turn rotten as we stockpile them away. It’s the lesson God’s people learned from the manna in the wilderness: that God gives us enough for all to be fed, every day, and when you try to take more than you need and to hoard it away – literally, it turns rotten; it stinks.

 Katharine would say it’s the lesson of the Eucharist, of the Lord’s Supper. Her faith was deeply shaped by the experience of coming again and again to Christ’s table, where all people – rich or poor, white or brown or red or black – all people stand as one. Here, we all share the same food. And she was also shaped by the language: this bread, it’s Christ, and look, here is how much he loves you: he loves you enough to sacrifice himself, to be broken open so that many might live.

 Our daily bread is meant to be shared, not stockpiled. There’s a saying floating around these days: if you have more than you need, build a bigger table. If you have more than you need, don’t build more barns to keep it in; if you have too much grain, bake it into bread, and break it open, and give it away.

 And just as we need to eat every day to live – we need to keep coming back to God, coming back to Christ, so our spirits can be fed, too, through this communal meal, through this act of love: taking, and blessing, and breaking open, and giving away.

 Katharine saw her resources, her privilege, as gifts – meant to be used, not to advance herself or her family, but to support God’s work. And when she died, she didn’t leave a fortune… but she left schools and missions, and generations of children educated, of children loved, of families changed, because of her faith. She made the world a richer place, because she remembered what really mattered most.

 Friends, chances are, you don’t have hundreds of millions of dollars in your family accounts. If you do, please come find me! Few of us are millionaires – but we are all blessed, nonetheless. We all have resources to share: our time, our talents, our table, our attention, our advocacy, our love.

 How are we spending what we’ve God? How are we investing our time and our resources – how are we investing our lives? How are we growing God’s gifts? Are we taking them, and asking God’s blessing, and breaking them open, and giving them away?

 The American dream is to work hard, to get famous, and to accumulate great big piles of stuff. But God’s dream is to work hard, to be humble, and to give generously. And it may not be as flashy, but I’d say it’s a much more impressive – and important – way to live.

 May our legacy be the legacy of self-giving love. May we be good stewards, faithful servants of God and generous lovers of God’s people, now and for years to come.  

  God, you know the things that we yearn for; you know what, and who, we work for each day. And you also know the things that wear us down and break our hearts. Help us to live faithfully, not just for today but for the future. Give us hope, and give us courage, and fill us with your peace. In Christ’s name; amen.

[1] She was born Catherine Mary, and didn’t change her name’s spelling to Katharine until later in life. For simplicity’s sake, however, I’ll be using the same spelling throughout.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katharine_Drexel