#the maternal teacher (cooking mama) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

troublesometrollhunters · 3 years

Text

Imagine being pregnant in TrollMarket

~ You were one of Jims teachers. Recently pregnant and left alone to raise the baby you moved to Arcadia for a fresh start. However monsters and mayem were not on the pregnancy itinerary and now you've stumbled into a whole world of trouble that doesn't involve your pregnancy problems.

~ Jim swears to you as long as he's Trollhunter no harm will come to you or your baby and he's so sorry that you got caught up in this mess. However your quick to forgive and soon the Trollhunter team becomes your family, the kids becoming your own children in a way.

~ Jim is quick to cook you anything you want. If you have a weird pregnancy craving he'll make whatever you want. Pickled pears? Got it! Something super sweet? Of course. Something really spicy? Sure. Icecream? He'll get the machine and make you some! He loves cooking for you and is glad he can help outside of trollhunting.

~ Toby throughout the entire process becomes your hype man. Becoming pregnant can be hard on your body and how you see yourself. Especially since the hormones make everything seem like a big deal. Sometimes the weight is upsetting or you feel fat and like a slob other times your so tired but feel lazy for taking a nap. He's there to tell you your amazing and beautiful and you should always feel that way because it's true. Self care is key and he's determined to make sure your taken care of the whole pregnancy.

~ Claires an expert in pregnancies because of her baby brother. She helps you make a list of things you should get for the upcoming baby and enjoys maternity shopping with you. You may be a pregnant lady but that doesn't mean you should be forced to live in sweatpants for nine months. She also helps you pick out cute baby clothes and toys for the nursery.

~ Poor Blinky in his excitement mixes up troll customs with human ones and creates weird hybrid things that don't actually exist and defiently don't help the pregnancy.

~ The kids and trolls keep up on absolutely everything. You're very well taken care of the whole pregnancy. Jim makes sure your eating. Toby makes sure you take care of yourself. And Claire helps you with house stuff when you need it. Draal, Blinky, and Aarrrgh also get very involved. They want to hear about your doctor appointments and see all the sonograms and ultrasounds. (Good luck getting their hands off you when the baby begins kicking)

~ You never got a baby shower so the troll team surprises you. Claire organizes the party, Jim handles the cake and food, meanwhile Toby invites all your friends and decorates. You get gifts from trolls, people, and even changelings. Strickler didn't come but he sent an expensive gift and a nice card.

~ You don't think much of it as it's a busy fun day full of gifts, laughter, games, and love. When the parties over they have one last surprise for you. Taking you upstairs the kids are excited to show you a recently decorated nursey!

~ Blinky had painted the walls of the room to look like an enchanted forest. There was elegant trees with birds and critters and flowers full of bees and butterflies. Soft green carpet laid on the floor and you nearly cried as you looked around. Draal had built you a beautiful crib of wood with little pieces of heart stone hanging off of it. And Aarrrgh smiled as he'd put in some shelves and arranged toys. Stepping further into the room taking it in, the crib was full of fluffy pillows and soft blankets. All of them were fantasy themed with pixies or tales of fae. Hand made dolls of the trolls were in a toy bin and plushies of goblins and other creatures were placed around the room. There was a gorgoues rocking chair in the corner and next to it a shelf full of young troll books and childrens toys. There was also a wooden changing station with soft pillows for your baby that held all the supplies you needed to clean and change them. You cry telling them this is the best gift ever.

~ Bular found you by accident. About half way through your second term Goblins were chasing the trollhunting team and out of options they hid at your house since you were the closest. The U.V lights you installed made the goblins flee and you thought that was the end of that until a changeling tried to break into your home a couple days later.

~ The team decides Trollmarket was the safest place for you. Staying in Trollmarket until the baby comes and you can safely move everyone is excited. Trolls may not love humans but the fact that your carrying a life inside of you is seen as a glorious thing. Trollmarket would never turn a pregnant person away even if they are a human. You get an influx of gifts from trolls around the market and they all make a point to smile and wave whenever they see you, something they didn't do before.

~ If your feet ever become sore, don't worry about it. In human standards you may be big but in troll ones your small. Blinky, Aarrrgh, Draal they'll carry you if they see you struggling. It's also a troll instinct to want to feed anything that's tiny so be prepared for trolls constantly offering you strange things to eat because they think you should be bigger for the baby. Gifts are a common occurrence as you live with Blinky. Weapons. Troll toys. Books. You also receive a lot of interesting letters.

~ Blinky tells the babies stories every night before you got to bed. He reads human fairy tales but also tells troll lore excited. Aarrrgh snuggles next to you and wherever the baby kicks he laughs. You always go to bed warm and happy as your baby rests soundly in your stomach.

~ Draal gets very protective of you when you locate to Trollmarket. He was protective before but after the attack he's now a guard dog, constantly by your side unless the team really needs him. When the baby starts kicking he's nervous to touch your belly at first. He'd seen the others do it and he wanted to as well. Taking his hand you gently put it your stomach and his eyes widen as he feels a strong kick against it.

"They're a warrior!" He states excited and you chuckle. With who they'd be raised with you had no doubt they'd be a warrior.

~ Aarrrgh is very cuddly the entire pregnancy. He wants the baby to be warm and safe so he often curls up around you when you take naps. He's often nuzzling your baby bump and asking questions. Human pregnancies and troll ones are very different and sometimes he gets confused but he does his best.

~ Blinky reads way to many books that Claire brings over about babies. Now he thinks he's an expert on all things baby related. The entire pregnancy he gives ludicrous advice thinking it'll help the pregnancy and the baby. It's sweet but he becomes a bit overbearing and the kids sometimes have to intervene.

~ Vendel gets annoyed when the others have to leave and he's stuck with you. But as you waddle around the Heartstone complaining about sore feet and back pains he pauses. He leads you somewhere to sit down. He gives you a chunk of heartstone to hold and wraps you in blankets so your warm. Wandering away he comes back with tea for the both of you and starts a pleasant chat.

~ You've wandered into a dangerous world and your worried about your baby, about the kids. They shouldn't be alone... They shouldn't be taking care of you, your the adult! Vendel notices the sad way you say alone and care. He sees your lip tremble and it hits him your scared. He softly asks you if your afraid to be alone, if your afraid you won't get the care you need. Your hands instinctively touch the baby bump and your thoughts wander to the father who'd walked out on you. You nod feeling tears in your eyes and he gently puts his head to yours humming something soft and soothing.

"You are not alone here and you will be cared for here."

You begin sobbing relieved as he rubs your back. No you suppose you had nothing to worry about.

~ Vendel knows a lot about human pregnancies thanks to asking you and doing some light research. Blinky likes to challenge the old man about it and they often bicker about what's good and not good for you and the baby. It can be quit entertaining if not alarming.

~ Vendel gives you potions for morning sickness so you no longer puke when you wake up and he gives you tea to sooth your aching muscles. He gifts you a heartstone necklace so that peace may always be with you as you carry the baby.

~ Your in Blinkies library one day. The kids are out patrolling and your enjoying a nice night when suddenly your soaked. At first you assume you peed yourself and are a tad emabrassed but you know Blinky will understand. Calling him in for some assistance he pauses seeing you and that's when the contractions start. You didn't pee, your water just broke.

~ Going to a hospital may take too long and getting out of the canal was too dangerous at this point. You're very carefully picked up by Aarrrgh before your rushed to the heartstone. Someone had ran ahead so Vendel was getting ready as you were brought in.

~ There are soft blankets to lay on and your put on a Heartstone slab which eases the pain of labor. Trolls excitedly wait outside of the heartstone for the baby to come. Hours pass and although your sweaty and exhausted you can't help but smile as your baby is placed in your arms.

~ The kids run in along with Draal and they stare at you holding your newborn. You're covered in blankets and sweaty but you couldn't be happier as you stare at your baby. They're swaddled in a soft furry blanket holding a chunk of heartstone with wide eyes. They look around and you smile.

"Hi... Hi... I'm your mama..." You mumble holding them close. "This is your family..."

~ Vendel takes the baby to check on them and you sleep after the draining expeirnce when you wake you smile holding your child close. Vendel was the official grandpa and you'd named Aarrrgh and Blinky the godfathers of the child. You said the kids could be sisters and brothers if they wanted and you told Draal he was an uncle. They were all very excited.

~ You give your baby a human name and a Trollish one. One you'd use in the human one and one you'd use in TrollMarket. Holding them close and looking at your family you smile. You wouldn't have it any other way.

@arcadia-trash

264 notes · View notes

ryujisakamotoheadcanons · 4 years

Note

Do you have any mama sakamoto headcanons?

OH BOY DO I EVER

This is a mama Sakamoto fan account, didn’t you hear? Just go look her up on my profile lol!

Mama Sakamoto went down and yelled at the principal when the whole Kamoshida incident happened, it didn’t do anything to help. But it made Ryuji feel better, and her too.

Speaking of, she never doubted for a second that he was in the right. She wasn’t disappointed that he broke his leg and fought a teacher, she was rather heartbroken he did it all for her sake.

She never intends to, but she blames herself for a lot of things. Ryuji has to convince her otherwise all the time.

I headcanon she’s either a geriatric nurse, or a ER nurse, and that she probably works nights!

She 100% has a badass tattoo on her back that’s hidden most of the time.

Once she found Ryuji in Shibuya with some of the thieves and proceeded to completely embarrass him in front of everyone.

Her nickname for Ryuji is ‘Juji,’ (that was one of my first hc on this account actually.)

She took defense classes after her husband left.

Over time, instead of her being the one defending Ryuji against her ex husband, he took her place and defended her. Much to her dismay.

(Here’s a little photo break)

Both her and Ryuji would clean each other up after the awful shitbag went on a rampage and hurt either one of them.

Ryuji helps her dye her roots, and she does the same for him. It’s like every two weeks, and it’s a special time for themselves.

She LOVES trashy reality and soap operas.

Ryuji cooks dinner and leaves it out for her.

Sometimes she’s so exhausted she’ll fall asleep on the couch, and wake up with her shoes off, lights shut off, tv turned down, and a blanket from Ryuji.

I don’t think she’d have long hair.

She installed a lock on the inside of Ryuji’s closet for him when he was younger.

Teasing her son is something she can’t go a day without doing, like, “Why are you smiling? Got a special someone??”

She finds out Ryuji is a phantom thief pretty early on when she finds crumpled up calling cards in his trash bin. She doesn’t tell him, but she knows sincerely that he’s doing good for the world, while also doing better for himself.

She has all his friends numbers saved in her phone, and especially pays attention to those who have no maternal figure in their lives. She becomes the den mother of the group.

At the end, she can see the blood rain just like the other confidants, and is down there cheering them on too.

Her and Sojiro meet up every so often just to chat :))

SORRY THIS WAS LONG I LOVE A CHARACTER WE HAVE NEVER MET

#seriously i would die for her #shes a cutie i can tell #cool mom hours up in here #ryuji sakamoto #persona 5 #p5 #persona #mama sakamoto

228 notes · View notes

indescribablechoices · 5 years

Text

let me go home (part one)

Pairing: Sonia x MC (Nina), Damien x MC (Kai) x Hayden

Word Count: 1890

Fic Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @kennaxval @thehonorarybeaumont @emomoustache

Listening Suggestion: Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Synopsis: Eighteen months after the events in Monaco, Nina brings Sonia home to meet the family.

“Are you okay?”

Nina let out a soft breath, fingers flexing against the wheel of her car. She glanced across at Sonia who was sat beside her, concern in her eyes. They had been pulled up on the side of the road in silence for a long few minutes, neither making the first move to get out of the car.

“Yeah, I just…” Nina rested her head against the glass of her window, eyes flicking to the familiar suburban house that they were now parked in front of, “It’s been a while since I’ve been back here.”

A frown crossed Sonia’s face, “I thought you said you and your family stayed in contact.”

“We do,” she said, “It’s just very different talking to them on the phone where I can lie about what I’m doing and actually being here in person.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” she reached across and took Sonia’s hand in hers, eyes trailing to the diamond ring that Sonia now wore, “I can’t wait to marry you, baby. I want my family to celebrate that with us. I am never happier than when I’m with you.”

“Even when you’re rolling naked in money?” Sonia cocked an eyebrow.

Nina smirked, meeting Sonia’s eyes, “That activity, like everything else in my life, is better with you.”

Sonia bit back a laugh with a scoff, “Sap.”

“Your sap,” Nina reminded her, happily receiving the kiss that Sonia leaned over to plant on her cheek.

The anxiety that had been resting heavily in her chest felt lighter by just the small interaction. Today felt like the first day of the rest of her life. The Monaco job felt like a breeze compared to the gut-wrenching nerves that had been eating at her for weeks at the thought of this visit, at finally bringing all of the parts of her life together. If she was going to spend the rest of her life with Sonia, she didn’t want to be hiding half of herself away.

Together, they climbed out of the car, Nina leading Sonia up the footpath to the front door, waiting with bated breath after ringing the doorbell. Nina smiled to herself at the sound of her mother’s voice calling from within that she was coming.

The door swung open, revealing a woman in her late forties, dark hair cut into a bob, both Sonia and Nina towering over her short figure.

“Nina?” she asked quietly, tears glimmering at the corners of her brown eyes.

“Hi Mama,” Nina offered her a smile, and was swiftly yanked down into a tight embrace.

Her mom quickly began to fuss over her, asking if she had eaten, attempting to wipe a makeup smudge away with her thumb. Nina laughed as she did, Sonia’s heart swelling at the sight of one of the world’s most prestigious thieves receiving a maternal second-hand lick.

Another figure, taller this time, appeared behind her mother, a man older again by nearly ten years, his dark hair showing signs of greying.

“Nina!” he beamed, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back before she stepped out of their arms, retaking Sonia’s hand.

“Mama, Papa, I want you to meet Sonia; my fiancée. Sonia, this is my mother and father; Kai and Damien.”

Kai’s face lit up with a wide grin, “Fiancée?!”

Sonia found herself pulled into a fierce hug by the small woman who began to fuss over her just as she had to her daughter just a moment before, saying how beautiful she was, how lovely her clothes were, and obviously how wonderful she must be for Nina to want to settle down.

Damien chuckled as he watched the exchange, “You might want to let the poor young woman inside the house, Peanut.”

Kai shushed him playfully, but she did release Sonia, stepping aside to invite everyone in. Nina mouthed a quick apology to Sonia as they went inside the house. The walls were lined with pictures from her childhood, showing an array of memories, from vacation shots, to official school photographs, candid shots of the entire family and two dogs; a brown collie and a German Shepherd.

“Oh Dipper and Columbo,” Nina cooed, looking at one of the pictures of the dogs, “They were our family dogs growing up. Dipper was dad’s dog before I was born. Columbo was an ex police dog, but he had the softest heart you’d ever met.”

“Just like Nina’s father,” Kai told Sonia with a laugh.

“I heard that,” Damien glanced at his wife with a smirk before looking to Nina, “Your dad is in the kitchen if you want to go surprise him.”

Nina’s smile grew even wider than Sonia thought possible as she was led further into the house, Kai and Damien heading on into the living room.

“I thought Damien was your dad?” Sonia asked quietly once they were alone in the corridor, heading towards the soft sounds of a radio playing and someone clanking around in a kitchen.

“Damien is my biological father, but I call him ‘Papa’. You’re about to meet my ‘Dad’ Hayden,” Nina told her, “My parents have been in a polyamorous relationship since long before me or my brother were born.”

“Is it just the three or is there another parent lurking around here somewhere?”

Nina laughed, “Just one mom, two dads. There is my Auntie Alana as well, and she and Mama are together, and she used to date Papa, but that was before they all really met each other… It can get complicated to explain to someone new… It’s not too much, is it?”

“It is… more than I was expecting,” Sonia admitted, but pulled her to a stop to wrap her arms around her and press a soft kiss to her lips, “But they are your family, and I can’t wait to be a part of it.”

“Thank you,” Nina said softly, “There’s something else you should know. My Dad looks a lot younger than Mom and Papa. He looks closer to our age, but he’s not. He… well…”

“Baby, whatever it is you can tell me.”

“I’ve never told anyone about him before. At least not like this. I wanted to keep him safe. You’re the only person I trust enough.”

“Nina you’re a highly wanted criminal and I have lied to several law agencies about you. I can handle this.”

Nina’s heart lifted with affection as she looked at this wonderful woman that she trusted more than anything. She let out a gentle sigh, “Did your parents ever tell you about Eros? The company that-”

“Released a bunch of human-like AIs into the world and are now at the forefront of AI technology? I’ve heard.”

“Hayden is one of those AIs. He and my parents helped save the president’s life when Eros tried to assassinate her.”

Sonia stared at her for a moment, eyebrows raised before she let out a whisper of, “Holy shit… how have you never been caught? You have one of the most high-profile families I’ve ever heard of.”

“Special favour from the Oval Office. The only reward my parents asked for was to go home and live out their lives. There was an undisclosed financial sum, of course, you don’t get a house like this in the ‘burbs on a cop, a decorator and a teachers’ salary. But my whole family is under the radar. To keep my dad safe.”

“So, he’s really an AI?” she asked.

“Apart from the non-aging, you would never know. I mean, he’s stronger than the average man, but when you’re a kid you think your dad is the strongest person in the world... But he’s as human as you or I,” she added quickly, a defensive edge to her voice.

Sonia took hold of her hands, giving them a squeeze, “Baby, I wouldn’t care if your dad was a toaster. He’s your dad, and I can’t wait to meet him.”

Nina leaned against her for a minute, “Thank you… This… All of this is a lot for you to hear in one go, I know, but I’ve never been able to really share it with anyone. It’s scary, letting someone truly see you.”

“I see you,” Sonia said, lifting one of her hands to tuck a dark curl behind Nina’s ear.

“You always have,” Nina smiled as their lips met in a gentle kiss. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, the floral scent of Sonia’s perfume setting her at ease, “C’mon. Dad’s going to lose his mind when he meets you.”

They headed further into the house together, and Sonia paused slightly behind Nina to let her begin introductions. Nina leaned in the kitchen doorway, smiling to herself as she watched her dad potter around the kitchen. The radio was blaring pop music, so it was no wonder that he hadn’t heard the commotion at the front door. He stopped to stir at something in a pot on the stove, and a delicious aroma reached her nose, nostalgia panging through her heart as she recognised the smell of her dad’s bolognese.

“Hey Dad.”

Hayden’s head whipped around at the familiar voice, tears already in his eyes as he took in the sight of her.

“Is that really my little girl?” he asked quietly, a smile starting to spread across his face.

They crossed the room and met in the middle, Hayden wrapping his long arms around her to hold her close. She held him tight, resting her face on his chest.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured into his shirt.

“I missed you too. I didn’t know you were coming home,” he admitted, “I would have prepared your favourite, and got your room ready and made a cake or something, I…”

She couldn’t contain her smile as he began to fuss worse than her mother had, “Dad, it’s okay. I wanted it to be a surprise, and you know I’ll eat anything as long as Mama doesn’t cook it.”

He let out a soft laugh, “That woman could burn water.”

She laughed as well, “Have you got enough for two guests?”

“Two…?” He eyes drifted to where Sonia was waiting in the kitchen doorway, “Oh! Who is this?”

Nina held her hand out for Sonia who moved to join her, taking her hand, “Sonia, this is my dad Hayden. Dad, this is Sonia… she’s my fiancée.”

His eyes went wide as tears welled up in them and he threw his arms around both of them.

“Oh it’s so wonderful to meet you,” he cooed, voice softened by tears.

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well,” Sonia laughed.

“Who would have known my ordinary Thursday would have brought me this, my daughter home and a new addition to our family?” he beamed, stepping back to take in the sight of them both, heart bursting with pride at the sight of his child all grown up and so happy, “This calls for a proper Nazario-Young family celebration. We’ll get your brother home for the weekend, and see if we can rustle up some Nazarios, Parks and Moussavis… you…” his smiled faded slightly, “You are staying for the weekend, aren’t you?”

Nina glanced at Sonia who gave her an approving smile before she looked back to her dad, “Yeah, we’re staying for the weekend.”

to be continued...

#the heist: monaco #perfect match #sonia alves #sonia x mc #damien nazario #damien x mc x hayden #hayden young #kai park #nina nazario-young #writing

43 notes · View notes

heavenlyhillz · 4 years

Text

I am Who I am

This is new to me, blogging..but I came here, because being who I am, I can’t really be me, anywhere else, online.

There is a stigma, when someone hears the words “witch” or “witchcraft”...It is sometimes laughed off, or ignorant and hurtful comments can be made. Some even think that you have mental health issues, if you tell them that you’re a Witch. I wish it was different...I wish people didn’t assume the worst about people like me. I am not evil, or wicked...but I am different, and perhaps a little strange. I’m also caring, loving, kind, generous, compassionate, funny, helpful, intelligent, and some say, wise.

I grew up in a large family, who believed that we should not expose ourselves, publicly, for fear of ridicule, condemnation, or even persecution and only a chosen few would be told. Some of my family actually chose not to practice, because they didn’t want to be associated with the stigmas, but the rest of us didn’t really want to lose our history, so we continued on our family path.

To be clear, we do not follow, and have never followed the religion, Wicca. We have nothing against the religion, or the people that practice Wicca...it’s just not our way of life. Our traditions are much older, passed down from generation, to generation (usually from mother to daughter), on my mother’s maternal side...However, sons were taught as well, if interested. My brothers were never interested, really, other than in gardening and knowing nature, and I think that if one of my brothers, actually had decided to practice...it wouldn’t be good...for anyone.

Daughters would start learning very young, with the teachings of herbs, flowers, gardening, etc...and at the age of 13, in my family lineage, there would be a Celebration of Maturity - the beginning of womanhood. For me...I loved that day..it was special, and brought me closer to the feminine side of my family! My mother was very skilled, in many different ways, and an excellent teacher...I learned so much from her! She was a healer, clairvoyant, and excellent in almost every form of casting, but her preferences were tea reading, facial reading (after she became blind), and herbal magic...She passed away in 2006, and I inherited all of her “Craft” belongings, because I was the only one in my family, that chose to pay close attention to her teachings,...even though I am not the only one to follow the family path, or to practice.

. My Great-Grandmother was called a “Wise Woman”, and in her time, she had to hide her tools of the “Craft” because of persecution, and to this day, Witch Hunts have never truly ended...It is still illegal to be a Witch, in many countries...and in some, the sentence is death. My Great-Grandmother was afraid of being arrested, but she still practiced, until her dying day, in solitude, and secrecy...in the kitchen.

It was the worst kept secret, in her little town, that she was a witch. Quite a few people actually knew who she was, and would come to her, for help of all sorts; to heal a broken heart, to end a cold, bring prosperity to a farm, etc..to even revenge against someone. She never charged for anything, but in thanks, people would bring her food, things they had made for her, flowers, or “sweet treats”, which I always assumed were baked goods, or chocolates, but I never asked. I guess it doesn’t really matter, anymore, but that work ethic, of never charging anyone anything, and always being there for someone in need, certainly didn’t start with her, but it definitely won’t end with me, or my generation.

A couple of my siblings, had been teaching their children, our ways, and I’m currently teaching my children, so they can carry on our family legacy. In this day and age though, it’s a little more difficult to teach. Kids these days, want to fit in and be accepted, but don’t want to be ostracized from their peers, and they don’t see it as “cool” to practice the Old ways..They’re more interested in technology...

In my little family, only my youngest is actually interested in really learning. They are wise beyond their years, and very intuitive! Always seems to know what people will say or do, before those people do or say, what they want. It’s amazing to see that they are like a Chess Master..steps ahead of others! So eager to master “Kitchen Witchery’, too, through cooking and baking! I’ve a very proud Mama Witch!

I knew my youngest would be interested in the “Craft”, but I actually expected my oldest child to be more interested, than they are, since they are a Sensitive, like me. When my oldest was little, and I’m sure still today, they used to see and be able to communicate with the dead...The famous words, “I see dead people!”, wasn’t just in the movie “The Sixth Sense”, but came out of my child’s mouth, when they were 7 years old. We would go places, and they could tell me who died where, how they died, and would walk up to people and tell them that someone they knew (who had passed away) wanted to let them know...well, whatever it was, that they wanted to say! My oldest child is a quiet person, who really doesn’t like crowds, or public speaking, and they wouldn’t go in to different places, if they didn’t “feel good” about it..For now, my oldest can be who they are, and it’s ok with me...and if they choose to learn in the future,...I’ll be here for them.

I wasn’t really sure about my middle child, whether they would want to learn or not, and right now, they’ve shown no interest, whatsoever, other than in herbs. When my older children were little, my middle child instinctively knew what herbs went with what spell,or what they were meant for, but wouldn’t want to participate in learning how to pick, dry or prepare any herb, or how to actually do any spells. They knew how to find different stones, flowers, etc..and why they were important, and always has been environmentally sensitive...but again...any mention of trying to teach anything on usage or about Spell Casting, and they would tune me out...Currently they have a significant other, that actually practices Wicca (which is fine),..but even then, my child tunes their partner out, if they start talking about Witchcraft, or Spell Work....Uggh...I wish they would open up, but until then, I accept and will respect their wishes...and it’s ok if they choose to never practice...It’s their life, not mine...I just hope that they let me teach any Grandchildren!

In any case, I love my family, and my children, and magic is in our blood...and has been for a very, very long time. I’m no expert on Witchcraft, but I have been living it, my whole life, continuously learning each day, because knowledge is power, and there is no end to knowledge! With me, you get what you see, and you can take me as I am, or not, and that’s ok too!

Wow, is this ever a long note!..Sorry to whomever is reading this! I’m sure it’s full of grammatical errors, run on sentences, etc...I just thought I’d write whatever was on my mind. My family make me who I am, and now you know a little about them, to get to know me! I’m sure in time, you’ll get to know me better, and let me possibly help to break down the assumptions and stigmas that people have, about witches, and Witchcraft!

Take care and have a wonderful week!!

#witchcraft #notwiccan #hereditarywitch #mamawitch #notwicked #iamme

1 note · View note

kishorkumarthings-blog · 5 years

Text

Kishor Autobiography

Hello Friends;

It’s me Kishor Kumar and this is a real life story about Myself and the sacrifices of my Mother for me. Till now 21 years have passed & few things are still buried so deep in my heart but it’s the right time to reveal it. I have seen as well as read the biography of many famous people but the biography of my mother’s life who live only for me can’t be explained in words or story but still I try my level best to share my mother’s struggle and sacrifices through my website.

Many years ago a Baby girl was born on 1st April 1978 in middle class family at Goriar. Her Father(my Maternal Grandfather) name is Maheshwar Singh who is a farmer by his occupation and Her Mother(my Maternal Grandmother) name is Pushpa Devi is a housewife.My Maternal Grandfather had 2 daughters;The younger one is “Neelam Devi”(My Mausi) & the younger one is “Kumkum Kumari”(My Mother). They all use live in village Goriar Thana Tikapatti of district Purnea.In their childhood days my mother and mausi were very naughty specially maa.

My Mother was very much focussed towards her studies.she completed her 10th with 1st division in year 1992 from Prabwati Gupta High school,Motihari.Everybody was so proud that her daughter cleared the 10th board with 1st division.During Her studies,She got married which disturbed her a lot in her studied & she failed to give the 12th final examination.

It was Arrange Marriage with Dinesh Kumar Singh(my Father) in 1996.I never seen him but as much I listen about him from my mother he was a nice person and he love me and my mother so much.THEN_ _ _ I was born on 27th Feb 1998.It was the day of great joy for our whole family specially for my mother and father.Many up and down come in my mother and father’s life but they always stand together in their worst and best time.

My mother wished to do her further studies which was denied on saying that daughter in law never go outside for studies;their main purpose is to do household works.She accepted it silently just for me and my father.From her childhood day she was not so much interested in cooking food,but she has to sacrifices with it.She was treated like a servant at his laws house.she cooked for atleast 7/8 people per day but my grandmother(dadi) never respected her.she always insulted her & torture her on saying that this type of worst food is not even given to our animal and you are serving it to us.My mother never got any love from my grandmother which every girl expect.My grandmother was so jealous to my mother that whenever my papa went to my maternal grandfather’s house they thought that my maternal grandfather and grandmother was provoking my father towards them and due to that my grandmother tortured my mother every single day;but my maa never said a word because she was taught that now your husband’s family is your own family.love them,respect them like us.never try to hurt them.

My mother always loved and treat my Bua(father’s sister) as a sister but they never followed any relation with my mother. Bua had relation only with my mother’s saree,jewellers etc. Even in my aunty’s(mausi) marriage Bua left not even a single piece of saree for my mother.My mother took a saree from my maternal grandmother then she attend ed the marriage of her own sister.My maternal grandfather had requested them millions of time to come and bless his daughter but my grandmother(dadi) refused it & at last my Buas come to attend the marriage to do the formalities only.

After One Year Another Happiness arrived in our Life.My little princess my Sister came to our home on 1999. Each and every person was so happy on that day except my grandmother’s family member .As she was a girl no body of my Grandmother’s house was happy but she was a Barbie doll for me, maa & papa.we were very happy in our small world.

But suddenly it was like everything is finished.Life had stuck at one point.My little sister had passed away due to high fever.My mother and father’s life was stuck at one point.My mother and father both were recovering from that incident. After few months in 1999 my mother got the news that my father is no more.She was broken into pieces.Now She had to lead her mountanious life alone with his(my father) memories only.Few days passed away at that time i was only one and half years old it was very hard for me to understand the situation of my mother.After this another incident my mother had become like a human without a sense {unconscious} at that point of time she want to ruined her life,but when she saw me infront of her eyes she found a reason to live.

When everyone was emotionally broken and don’t know what was going on in our life;my maternal grandfather(nana ji)controlled his emotion and stood like a pillar and give strength to my mother to start a new life for me……………………………………..BUT…………………………………...............GOD was so cruel at that time, beyond all these my mother also blamed for the death of my father.My mother was broken initially.My grandmother(dadi) separated me from my mother on saying that when she will completely recover from all these situation and incident then she can take me back then my grandmother took me with her and i was separated from my mother.i was at grandmother’s house and mother was at her father(nana g) house.I was said to call my bua as my mother and my mother as bua. As i was just 2 years old,i was not able to recognise what was happening in my life and my mother’s life.

“At the age when child holds the finger of his father and plays with him I was in police custody and loosing my childhood”.I was very helpless without my mother,my mother try her level best to get me because I was the only reason for her happiness.One sudden day police arrived with their search warrant and started searching me in my grandmother’s(dadi) house but they still lied that i am not with them;they had caged me in a box.This level of mental pressure for a child is too much to got mad but it was the only result of my mother’s love that i was fine and police got me.After that I was handed to my mother and after that my mother refused to live with them again .During this period of time my mother completed my 12th board in year 2000.

Here begins the turning point of our life.After lots of sacrifices my mother got the same job at the place of my father.Once again the path of happiness turns towards my mother’s life.My maternal grandfather,me and my mother started to live in a rent house.After a few days my maternal grandmother was called from village because when my mother joined office she was facing problems in handling the office and house both.In her office My mother got a best friend (Neelam).She supported my mother a lot.

My uncle(chacha g) started threaten to my mother mentally.He tried to disturbed her mentally.but my maternal grandfather handled everything.My grandmother(dadi) asked for a share in my mother’s salary but my mother replied that I had already left my shared in your property.I don’t even want a pinch(ek tinka) of it but sorry i have to look after my family.If you want to came and stay with me i am very happy with that but sorry i can’t give you a share in my salary.

After few year on 17th june 2005 my janeu ceremony was going to happen.I asked my mother to invite our grandmother’s (dadi) family but she totally refused it.when my maternal grandfather talked to my mother then she agreed to take me to my grandmother’s(dadi) house.so that I can invite them myself.I was very much excited with this.

when I reached my grandmother’s house my uncle opened the door.I bent down to take blessings but he stepped back that was the first time when i realised that why my mother was refusing me but i still invited them all with same respect and returned back home.The behaviour of my uncle hurt me deeply which i can’t forget ever. “The janeu ceremony day arrive.It was a very special day for my mother.she was very happy and my mother knew that no one of my grandmother’s family will came and blessed me but I still had a hope that remained unfulfilled.

No one from my grandmother’s family came except one of my fufa ji. My fufa ji informed us that my uncle had warned everybody that if anyone of our family will go there then he will shoot him/her then we came to know the reason why none of my grandmother family member attend my janeu ceremony.But I was very happy at that time because I came to know the truth at the right time of my life.

After that incident a huge gap formed between me and my grandmother’s family,After living for 17years in the same house on rent,by the blessing of my big brother laddu gopal and hard labour of my mother and by the support of my maternal grandfather and grandmother our own home is completely ready in year 2017 and we shifted there. During this time i completed my 10th,12th from Purnea and currently i am pursuing my B-tech degree from jalandhar punjab.

whatever,whoever I am today is just because of my mother,my maternal grandfather and maternal grandmother. Maa you are a strong women and i love you for it.

You are my maa,best friend,my teacher,my mentor,my advisor and my first girl friend.Maa,nana,nani thank you for your all unconditional love,bondless patience,amazing wormth and endless support.you all made my whole life a beautiful happy story.you are my everything maa ,nana ,nani no matter how bad I felt and how many unpleasant situation I expierenced,you were always there.you always understand ,support and console me. You managed to turn this black and white world into a fairy tale for me.

I LOVE U MAA,NANA,NANI And all my friends who always supported me in my tough times and motivates me to do well in my life special thanks to my mama shree Amit kumar sharma,Gaurav sharma & Deepak sharma for their unconditional support and love for me.some of my best friends who always stand with me in my good and bad times(pritam kumar,Rinku kumari singh,vinit kumar,Anuj kumar and all my dear friends.Special thanks to Manoj kumar mishra and Sarla mishra who always support to our family in every situation.Thanks for ur love and care.

This is my story till now ……………………………………..stay tuned…For further story with my website

#six month project #major project #digital marketing

1 note · View note

ladyamaltheas · 3 years

Text

i've experienced a lot of grief in my life - everyone does. before the pandemic my boss told me, "if you have livestock, you'll have deadstock." and it was about farms (specifically not holding foxes accountable for dead sheep, especially lambs, because it happens) but that phrase is applicable in general. if there's people in your life, you'll lose some of them eventually, which is a terrible thought but a true one. anyway my point was just that i'd lost two uncles, all my grandparents, a close friend as a teenager who had a preventable death, influential teachers, all my great aunts and great uncles, so many pets including the dog i truly think was like the other half of my soul, and then the cousin who'd been my faux big brother all my life, he died in february.

the firstborn on my maternal side. my mother's godson. they were very close. we never told him how sick she was and we never told her when he went to hospice or when he died. i think it would have killed her sooner.

my first point was going to be that despite dealing with so much loss and - in my opinion - coping well with bereavement generally, mam's loss is a whole other universe. i was going to try describe it but there's no point. every day there's something new; today i went into marks and spencers and we used to go there around christmas time and when i remembered that it was like my whole being glitched. and then i saw a plush pig in chef's clothing that we both would've loved and i was going to get it because of that but then i thought about how much she loved master chef and cooking shows in general and realised i might need to throw him out when the bins are collected on tuesday if i did. because these things catch you when you don't expect it. stupid things upset you. that was a tangent. my second post was meant to be that i think when someone dies you will spend the rest of your life thinking of things you should have said or done. i know it's only been two months, and the rest of my life could be a lot longer than that so i don't know if this will ever stop, but there's so much. i love you so much. you're the best friend i'll ever have. i'll be lost without you (i am). i'm sorry for every stupid fight we ever had. i forgive you. i love you. i'm sorry. some of these things get communicated; i love you, daily. for over a year. but it's not enough. there'll never be enough time. if you got this far i'm sorry if you're on good terms with your mama and you can go do it please call or hug her or both. and if you got this far and you know me, it's just easier to talk to the void, i have literally had friends evaporate since mam died & that was long before i was as sad as i am rn

#personal #tw: grief #tw: bereavement #idk what else to tag it as but anyway #tbd

0 notes

r95irth · 6 years

Note

What are Satoru's relationship with his other siblings, Satoru, Mimi, Haku, Hajime, Fujiko, Mitsuka, Hino, Rei, Hana and Kazu? Does Big Mother loves her son? Did you name your oc villain, Big Mother after two One Piece characters, Big Mom and Mother Caramel?

Hello Anon =)

I will first answer your question about my oc, if that’s okay with you. But under spoilers for better care readers ^^

Big mother does love her son very much, she is just unable to go past her own self and see him as his own being. When i did some researches about mentally-ill mother i found a lot of interesting stuff about depression / post-partum depression. Which made me imagine a situation where the mother couldn’t stand the fact that her kid wasn’t part of her anymore (couldn’t feel what she felt - like when they were in her womb) which lead me to Big Mother’s condition. I don’t know if it’s a true mental disease, but i do know that abuser are often selfish to this point. Since Big mother is an abusive mother i was like, why not ? So big mother loves her son, but she is just too selfish about it.

As for her name, her real name is Airi, which come from the anime/manga Erased. (I pick names from there and there of show/animes i like) since Satoru’s name came from there too. Her alias is from the litterature book BIG BROTHER, which is a story about a world where the Tyran in place has a thoughts-police that can read mind (though i’m not sure it’s been a while since ir ead it), and put posters everywhere saying “Big brother is watching you”. I thought it fit big mother’s quirk since she can know what you think of her. She would be an awful tyran like Big Brother xD

As for Satoru’s relationship with his siblings…Mimi, Hino and Rei are planned in Better care universe, i don’t know about other, i didn’t ask their respective owner. I would love to have them as “real” Satoru’s sibling of course….(but that would force me to rewrite a bunch of things and makes my chrono and do math)

So everything i will say next is hypothetically speaking and up to multiverse (in a universe i’m less lazy and better at math and i actually ask everyone if they want Satoru to be their oc’s sibling, and they agreed. THOUGh it’s okay if they not, because not everyone has the same view on characters and have different expectations of their favorites relationship/family’s dynamic)

Satoru is a very doting older brother. He has a maternal instinct that is very strong and is very protective with his other siblings. Actually i wouldn’t be surprise to hear say “my babies” when speaking about them sometimes xD He was, after all, considering ebing a teacher like his aunt at one point. But Satoru is also a tease. He likes make comments. So he would kind of be like that with them too? I don’t know how to describe it, but i would have this kind of scene in my mind like :

Younger sibling : Why can’t i do that? Satoru is allowed to do it!

Shouto : Because Satoru is older than you?

Momo : He wasn’t allowed to do it when he was your age.

Satoru : because i never was dumb enough to get caught while doing it.

Shouto and Momo *gasp and stare at their son*

Satoru : i mean - this is bad don’t do it, listen to Papa and Mama!

He is certainly not envcouraging his brothers and sisters to do wrong, but if he saw the opportunity to make a comment, oh boy he will take it. And he will probably be the older brother you go ask questions you don’t want to ask your parents. Like sexuals questions or feeling questions. He is very blunt about this and he would say his mind right away. And then he will probably be “you should ask papa and mama about it too”

sibling : why? It’s embarrassing.

Satoru : Yeah that’s the point. It’s so funny when they are embarrassed about these kind of stuffs.

As for the rest, i did say that Satoru would get protective over his brothers and sister, but not the “don’t touch my sister’s hair” or “Are you the one bullying my brother, caus ei’m going to break your nose” kind. He is more calm and posed about this. He talks to his siblings and offer advices to help them, and sometimes alibis so they could avoid the problem. And if they can’t then he would be blunt with the one responsible.

As for fights, he would probably avoid it at all cost. He is not violent and would rather pout and be sad about a situation than get angry. He can’t stay mad at them very long though, for Satoru to hate one of his sibling, they must have done something very, very bad. (Like making Shouto or Momo very sad).

So now that you get the basic of this, here is, WHAT I THINK, would be Satoru’s relationship with each kid :

Mimi : Probably the sibling he gets along the best, since they are both calm and composed. They both like reading and are maternal.

Haku : Same as Fujiko and Hajime, i don’t know much about him. But i think that Satoru would be happy to hang out with him and Aoyama. Probably talk about fashion (but since Satoru has a fashion sense as developped as Edward Elric i doubt he would be good advice in this area). He would probably amused by Haku’s behaviour and wonder where it comes from. Satoru would probably be uper warry of him the first day Haku goes to school because he would be worried his little brother to be bullied. >>

Hajime : I don’t know much about Hajime, but he looks like a boy version of Momo, always happy and cheerful and supportive. I think Satoru would like him very much and be a bit tired by his happy-vibes but yet very moved by the kid. You know i kind of see a scene like “We’re going to do this : YEAH!” and Satoru being the dead–voiced kid in the background repeating “yeeeeeeeeeeah” like he is being dragged into this against his will, when it’s clearly not the case.

Fujiko : Fujiko would make Satoru so stupid, like, i think he would be so perplexed. She has Shouto’s face and tired stare. They would definitely give a contest about who looks the most annoyed and tired. I think he would pinch her cheek a lot as a baby and tries to make her smile / be surprised with his other sibling.

Mitsuka : I think his relationship with Mitsuka would be simple and compicated at the same time. I mean, they are both very sarcastic and like to complain…But on the other hand Mitsuka complains about her dad, and Satoru would kind of be like “Hey don’t talk about Papa like that” because, well, Shouto is his hero and savior after all. It’s hard to hear someone you like say bad things about your idol. But on the same time he would probably know, thanks to his power, that Mitsuka doesn’t think that. So he would probably be kind of lost like “i don’t like to hear that but on the same time i know it’s not true and crap what do i do” Tsun are not Satoru’s things xD

Hino : One of the sibling he likes to play a lot with. He likes te twin very much and could spend hours playing or talking with them about what they like / shows and heroes. He would play along with their “kid role play” like monster games or such. And he would buy him funny t-shirt with sentence like “I will Icy stare youl” for him.

Rei : One of the sibling he likes to play a lot with. He likes te twin very much and could spend hours playing or talking with them about what they like / shows and heroes. He would play along with their “kid role play” like monster games or such. And he would buy him funny t-shirt with sentence like “I’m hot as hell” for him.

Hana : Hana would be his little princess, and he would probably keep candies in his pocket just for her, because she is a glutton. Since she likes to eat, i think Satoru would try to teach her how to cook -bringing up Shouto and Momo in this new found family activity. If she has the quirk i gave her in the better care universe, then Hana would probably be Satoru’s first student, since he would help her mastering her quirk.

Kazu : I don’t know much about Kazu, but i think that Satoru would be very amused by the flirt vibes he gives off. He would be like “i have no idea from which one you got this, but you’re so damn good” Though Satoru would be very worried about Kazu’s heart state.

Here it is. Few it was quite long. I hope i answered your question. Now i need to go see the doctor. ^^ See you. Thank you again for your question Anon. It always makes me happy.

#ask #answer #anon #better care #Big todomomo family AU #sort of #art by littleroundpumpkin #reference #thank you for asking

3 notes · View notes

pravasichhokro · 3 years

Text

My childhood summer holidays! लहानपणीची उन्ह्याळ्याची सुट्टी

I will try to pen down the highlights of summer holidays I spent during 1960 to 1965 when I studied in standard 6 to 11 (SSC) in Ahmedabad, Gujarat. The schools would close for summer vacation around April 15 and reopen around June 15. In most summer vacations, our destination would be my mother’s native place Karad, about 100 miles South of Poona in Maharashtra. To maximize fun, we would leave on the last day of school exam and return only one week before school reopened.

Train journey from Ahmedabad to Karad would take app 20 hours, if non-stop and required change of trains at Bombay and Poona. Interestingly Ahmedabad to Bombay and Poona to Karad would be steam locos but Bombay to Poona would be electric locos. (even today it takes 20 hours, though we have no steam locos and no changeover at Poona). Except for the first leg, journeys would be in unreserved coaches and an adventure for a family-my mother and four children. The last leg from Karad railway station to residence of my maternal uncle would be by horse driven cart (टांगा). While writing this blog I am reminded of a marathi song popular then and now which goes as ”झुक झुक झुक झुक अगीनगाडी.........मामाच्या गावाला जाऊया” For non-Marathi readers, it means let us go to the village of our uncle (mama) by the steam engine driven train.

The residence of my maternal uncles was a palatial ancestral house, called Wada in Marathi and Haveli in Hindi. It was a two storied house with all main load bearing members of wood. The floors were wooden covered by mud and the walls were mainly of mud bricks, app 4 feet wide. All the bathrooms used the stones from the hills. The house was located on a hillock, near the confluence (Sangam) of rivers, Krishna and Koyana. The carpet area was more than 10000 sq ft and the open space around it would be easily another 30,000 sq ft. The premises had more than 25 trees and a Datta temple. There was cattle shed for bullocks and buffaloes. It had electricity only for lights and there were no ceiling fans. The ceiling was more than 20 ft high and kept inside cool.

In the summer vacation, our other cousins and aunts would also come to Karad from Poona and Dombivali. Sometimes we would be around 25 kids and 15 adults in the house. The logistics of managing the household work including cooking was a herculean task and well managed by the ladies. We had limited domestic help -part time help for cleaning utensils and washing clothes, and one full time servant, who would help the ladies. He would also care for the cattle.

Our day would start normally with going to the river for a bath and /or swim. I learnt swimming in the river from my uncles, who were expert swimmers. In about 3 yrs, I mastered the art of swimming in the river and was able to cross the river spanning more than 500 ft without any help of inflated tube or drum or another swimmer.

The major time pass activities were playing carom and cards in the temple, which was a cool place in the afternoon. Sometimes we would play tennis ball cricket in the evenings or mornings. We also played matches with the local boys for fun -home team vs visitors.

Sometimes we went to my (junior) uncle’s school and played badminton and table tennis. Actually, I learnt how to play these games there and then slowly got the hang of it.

My junior uncle was a very skilled person in addition to being a good teacher of mathematics /science and sport/physical training. He had studied agriculture and was in charge of the family farms. Those days the main crops were Jawar, ground nut and sugarcane. Farming was contracted out then. Once in the summer, we all would go to the farm, which was about 10 miles, using bullock cart and tractor etc. The farm had a team of contractors to make Gul/Gud (jaggery) from sugarcane juice. We enjoyed the fresh sugar cane juice, adding lemon and ginger taken from home. It was a full day picnic. Even today we get our annual stock of Gul/Gud from Karad.

We had some outings during our holidays. The regular visit to Ogale Glass Works, Ogalewadi, near Karad railway station was looked forward with keen interest. We could visit the plant and see the glass bottles, containers etc being made by manually blowing the molten glass. I think it was a rare industrial township by a Marathi industrialist. Another attraction was a sumptuous meal at my grandaunt, who lived in a staff quarter.

We also were able to visit the Koyana dam and Pofali power station when they were being constructed. One of my uncles in PWD was posted at Koyana dam site and he took us around the construction site. Another relative was the chief engineer at Indian Hume Pipe, who were constructing the electric generating room inside a mountain. The dam water would be brought by a tunnel in the mountain, and it would drop more than 1000 ft to generate power. The machinery was from Switzerland. We were taken to the machinery installation room from the tunnel, which would allow water to go out after turbine. It was very educating to see such construction at a young age.

I had not seen any Marathi play in Ahmedabad but during the summer holidays an amateur group would stage famous Marathi plays in the open area on a makeshift stage in the town square free for all. My senior uncle (a bank manager) and aunt (a school teacher) were highly active and used to play the lead roles. I remember to have seen “दुरितांचे तिमिर जाओ (Duritanche Timir Javo)” in one summer starting from rehearsals till final performance. A great learning experience.

I was exposed to some other activities where I picked up some skills. My junior uncle and we boys replaced a mud brick wall with new bricks and cement mortar. I was able to “drive” a bullock cart after riding with the “driver” for a couple of days. I was gifted a Afga box camera in one summer. My uncle’s friend, who owned a photo studio, taught me how to take a good photo. My junior uncle owned an ex-army BSA make motorcycle of 500 cc (like one we see in WWII movies). He taught me how to ride once I was able to handle the weight. I rode it, with my uncle on the pillion seat, to nearby villages on the tar and dirt roads.

We boys did help in fetching water from the only tap in the front of the residence to kitchen and bathrooms. I also helped and learnt how to stitch on a paddle sewing machine from my aunt. When old enough, I helped my uncle in correcting annual exam answer sheets of his school and compiling the marks sheets.

Towards end of the holidays, the school results would pour in and we would celebrate the achievements. Our favourite was to make pot ice cream at home and enjoy almost unlimited scoops. My uncle and we boys would take turn to churn the pot in the wooden drum (vat). Another way to celebrate was to go to see a Hindi (then it was not Bollywood) movie in one of three movie halls.

Towards the end of holidays, my father would join us, and we would go to Sangli, his native place. For me, Sangli meant that I could spend hours watching two elephants in their shed in Ganesh temple. I also recall that we used to go to Sangli railway station in the evening to watch the turning around of the steam loco as Sangli was dead end. A turn “table” was used to turn the loco by 180 degrees manually by two rail employees.

In all, it was a different world from the one in Ahmedabad and I picked up a lot of skills, knowledge and human values from these holidays. They are part of my body and soul even today.

The ancestral residential house was replaced about 25 yrs ago by standard concrete bungalow’s once the four brothers (uncles) divided the inheritance. Luckily the temple remains as it was.

Many readers, who grew up in cities, may not find the above of interest or difficult to appreciate the details. These are memories I would like to cherish.

#summerholidays

0 notes

aplushemporium · 2 years

Text

How do you need to be comforted?

to be held.

you need someone to wrap you up, squeezing together all the parts of you that feel broken. you crave being shielded away from the world, where no one can see you... no one can hurt you.

to be distracted.

anything. anything to get your mind off of what is happening around you... your brain won't be silent, and you need someone to take the focus away from your whirling thoughts.

to be reassured.

you need someone to talk to, to remind you that you will survive, that you are loved, that you are needed... because you are having a hard time believing it, yourself.

tagged by: stole it

tagging: @cobraghost, @twobraiined, @friendsamongstars. @hal-in-the-family, @thetravelershub, @gctta-pace, @le-boid, @ashley-and-redcanons, @jesterofinaba, @oreo-octopi, but anyone can do this, OR NOT

#Board Games! (memes)#quiz meme #dash meme #dash games #headcanon #headcanons #the melodic fish (baby shark)#the maternal teacher (cooking mama)#energetic puppy recruit (jack)#a robotic boid (digit)#The Little Ninja! (Ana)#the clumsy cheerleader (honoka)#//this reveals that a lot of my fave muses are cuddle bugs

7 notes · View notes

rabbitcruiser · 6 years

Photo

International Mother’s Day

International Mother’s Day is celebrated on second Saturday of every May. This year it will be celebrated on May 13. International Mother’s Day is a ceremony honoring the mother of the family, as well as motherhood, maternal bonds, and the importance of mothers in society. It is celebrated on various days in many parts of the world, most commonly in the months of March or May. It supplements similar celebrations honoring family members, such as Father’s Day, Siblings Day, and Grandparents Day. International Mother’s Day celebrates the moms in your life at one of these events happening around Metro Vancouver.

Mother’s Day is an annual event celebrated every year to honor and respect a mother. It is a modern time celebration which was originated in North America to honor the mothers. It is celebrated to address the motherhood as well as increasing the maternal bonds to children. It is dedicated to increasing the influence of mothers in the society. Mother’s day is being celebrated every year on various dates in different countries all over the world. In India, it is celebrated every year on second Sunday of the month of May.

Mother’s love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved.” – Erich Fromm

History of International Mother’s Day

In the United States, a celebration of International Mother’s Day began in the early 20th century. It is not related to the many celebrations of mothers and motherhood that have occurred throughout the world over thousands of years, such as the Greek cult to Cybele, the Roman festival of Hilaria, or the Christian Mothering Sunday celebration (originally a commemoration of Mother Church, not motherhood). In some countries, Mother’s Day has become compatible with these older traditions. In most countries, Mother’s Day is an observance derived from the holiday as it has evolved in the United States.

As chosen by other nations and cultures, the holiday has various meanings, is associated with various events (religious, historical or legendary), and is celebrated on different dates. In some cases, countries previously had existing celebrations honoring motherhood, and their celebrations then adopted several external components from the US holiday, such as giving carnations and other presents to one’s mother.

Happy Mother’s Day Quotes

“Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love, and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.” – Stevie Wonder.

“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” – Abraham Lincoln.

“Mother’s love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved.” – Erich Fromm.

“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of little children.” – William Makepeace Thackeray.

“A mother’s happiness is like a beacon, lighting up the future but reflected also on the past in the guise of fond memories.” – Honore de Balzac.

“When my mother had to get dinner for 8 she’d just make enough for 16 and only serve half.” – Gracie Allen.

“The baby at first feeds upon the mother’s bosom, but it is always in her heart.” – Henry Ward Beecher.

“For when a child is born the mother also is born again.” – Gilbert Parker.

“The love of a mother is the veil of a softer light between the heart and the heavenly Father.” – Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

“There is nothing in the world of art like the songs mother used to sing.” – Billy Sunday.

How To Celebrate International Mother’s Day

It is quite easy to celebrate International Mother’s Day. Celebrate Mother’s Day in a beautiful manner. Some people celebrate by creating a photo album, slideshow, or video, go a Mother’s Day picnic, cook a great lunch or dinner, take her to her favorite places, treat her to a spa day, send her on a short trip on this particular day. Treat mom like the queen on her specific day.

Mother’s Day is a very specific day of the year for everyone. People who care and love their parents celebrate this specific occasion in many ways. It is an only day of the year which has been assigned to all the mothers in this world. People in various countries glorify this event on different dates and days according to the country patterns and calendar.

In India, it is honored every year on second Sunday of the month of May in almost all regions of the country. The ways of celebration have been changed a lot in this modern time all over India. It has become an event of great awareness in the society. Everyone wants to participate and celebrate this event according to their way. It is the indication of the presence of international festival in this culturally diverse country. It is a global event celebrated in many countries.

Source

1 note · View note

lingchung-gratitude · 4 years

Text

Mar 15, 2020

I’m in a 21 day abundance exercise some girl friends. Exercise 1 fits very well with my gratitude journal. Today I give thanks to 50 people.

Make a list of 50 people who have influenced your life, in a small or big way. Dive through your life and bring those people in. Write the names of the people who touched you and the circumstance — It could be one word, a song, a book, a memory.

I am grateful for...

Mom. In many ways, the best mom ever. My matters are always more important to her than her own matters.

Bernabe. Rock solid. If I’m stuck on the road, he will take a day off just to pick me up. Always there for me without making any demands of me.

Mummy. She’s my aunt in Singapore who’s like a mom. She loves me like her own.

3rd Mummy, my childless 3rd aunt who passed away some years ago. She loved me like her own.

Ah Gong, my maternal grandpa. For spoiling me. Which grandparent would pretend he’s the eunuch and his grandchild’s the emperor and kneel to his 6 year old granddaughter? Mine.

Ah Ma, my maternal grandma. For doting me, disciplining me, and taking care of me when mom was working. Though you told me I came from garbage can and that made me cry, I still love you lots. Sorry I always fought you for the TV. I wish you were around for longer. I still remember the night you teared and told me you wish you could live to see me get married. Well, I’m still not married. So you haven’t missed much.

Dodo, my baby sister. She’s my cousin. I just love her. And I know she loves me too. She can be cold towards other people, but she always warms up towards me.

Mama, my cousin’s paternal grandma in Singapore. She showed me kindness when I was a lonely child in Singapore. I felt nothing but love and warmth from her.

Aunt Nheng Jie Jie, my aunt’s family nanny. She was a childhood savior. In her, I found light, guidance, and a sense of belonging in a family that I didn’t feel like I belonged to.

Flea, for being there for me since we were 6. Despite the distance, she’s always one message away. She’s my personal virtual doctor. And we still talk to each other like we are 6.

Twins, Ai Hsin / Ai Ling. Again, for being there since we were 6. These two girls showed me what it means to love and take care of your friends unconditionally.

Ai Ling and Allen, for piquing my interest in yoga. I have a feeling this will become an interest of a life time.

Jacq, my best friend from boarding school. When I grow up, I want to be just like you. But I never will because our personalities are polar opposites. But having you in my life just reminds me to let things go.

Howard, my high school / first year university bf. For still being the person I turn to when I need to run my thoughts by someone. For raising me when I was a bratty teenager here alone in Canada. You’re family. You’re also my #1 fan. Sometimes you have more faith in me than I do.

Tim, my high school sweetheart. You showered me with innocent romance. You gave me memories that I think every teenage girl should have. I still have all your letters and memories of your romantic gestures that cynical grown-ups no longer do. I’m grateful I’ve experienced love with such openness.

Dom. For being a good friend for the last 15 years since our breakup. I like your current girl friend heaps and I know she likes me too. I think I will be in your wedding party :)

Clem, my best friend. My brother essentially. Always there for me over the years and enlightening me with your different nonprofit adventures and absolute randomness.

Lonn. The best thing that came out of our relationship was your group of best friends. Thank you for your rock solid friends who kept me in the group and are now some of my closest friends.

Mike. For sharing my bio-hacking / personal development interest and for regularly sharing interesting links and news.

Anita. For being a role model in many ways. Your lack of ego is something I aspire to.

Alex, for always keeping me in mind and cooking for the group of girls.

Lucy. For being fun, caring, creative, artistic and supportive. You’re always on my side.

James Antifaev, for being my voice of reason. When I’m stuck, your counsel always carries me through. We are same same but different.

James Patrick Nugent, for being the chaos of my life. Even after our breakup, you continue to be a big influence. Through our relationship, I have learned to love someone unconditionally. I have also awaken to deeply rooted social justice issues that plague our society.

Paul Jasmins, for being a great company over the last year since you’ve moved back to Canada. Always supportive and lending a listening ear. You’re one of my few friends who would visit me in Thornhill. You make me like my own place even more.

Paul Taylor, FoodShare’s Executive Director. Working with you on the board has been eye-opening. I aspire to have your temperament as a non profit leader.

Albert, for being a guide in the food tech, social justice area.

Christine Jew, for being the most supportive girl friend ever. Always so non judgmental.

Urban, the most significant relationship partner of my life to date. Though we don’t talk anymore, but, you’ve changed me for the better. I will not be the person I am today without your influence. To this day, when I’m stuck, I still think to myself, “what would Urban do?”

Sophia, Urban’s wonderful older sister. She still checks up on me years after Urban and I have broken up. Through Urban, I learned that if you want your partner to love and respect your family, you have to love and respect your own family. Urban respects his older sister very much, for good reasons. And I feel the same towards Sophia.

Yueyue. Your thoughtfulness baffles me at times. Thank you for always taking the lead in showing care, coordinating trips etc.

Vish. You’re my CPG career voice of reason. If I’m stuck, I go to you. You were with me every step of the way throughout my almost-laid-off ordeal.

Viraj. For your occasional one-liners from California. Your narcissistic sense of humour cracks me up.

Sandy. You can be a real ass at times. But I know, despite your foul mouth, you care and you always come through when I’m in need.

Sonia. Because of you, I became part of the “cool kids” gang at EPC. Not that being a cool kid matters, but a sense of belonging to a group definitely does. Thank you for always including me.

Ann. For being a loyal, simple, giving friend.

Tim Ferriss. Wealth of knowledge.

Ben Greenfield. My fitness go-to.

Dave Asprey. Bullet-proof radio.

Scott, for our occasional geek-out sessions on personal finance.

Helen, for believing in my abilities and helping me make the transition from Category Management to Brand.

Giselle, for being a role model professionally in terms of strategic thinking and temperament, and for being an advocate of me.

James MacIntosh, for being my sponsor over the years. My career would not have been as smooth without you.

Julia, for being the fun, intellectual, outdoorsy girl friend with interest in social justice.

Amy, for always coming through when I’m in need. Though we are not in frequent contact, when I’m in a dark place, you always offer a helping hand just in time.

Pranav, for offering me an opportunity that I don’t know if I’d take. But thank you for wanting me to be on your team again.

Robin, for being a kind leader and reaching out when I needed it.

Stacy, for being a friend and a media teacher. I’ve learned so much about media working alongside you over the last year.

Betty, my cousin’s partner. For taking care of my cousin in Singapore. My cousin’s having a minor surgery tomorrow. Sports injury. She’s scared. So I’m glad Betty’s with her.

Helpful Taiwanese People: cab driver, train station staff, policeman. These people went out of their way to help me retrieve my lost phone in Taiwan. They showed me warmth in mankind, and affirmed my strong belief in a sense of community.

0 notes

shu-of-the-wind · 7 years

Note

OMG more of foster mom Jyn and teacher Cassian pleaseee if you don't mind

pt i pt ii

This one has some mentions of bullying, some discussion of racism, and references to a child beating up another child, so.

There’s a system, in their apartment. Jyn wakes up last, comes homelast, and eats last, and she’s more than okay with that, if she stops to thinkabout it. She spent so much time, as a teenager, in and out of juveniledetention and foster homes and a sixteen month stint of homelessness, not beingsure if she was going to eat everyday; she’s more than glad to make sure Finn and Rey eat before she does, andsleep before she does.

“You act like an angry mama cat,” Bodhi says one weekend. He’s comeover for lunch and to take Finn out to the movie theater, as a Big Brotherdoes. “You stare at them while they eat.“

“I want to make sure they have food.”

“They do, you know. Even if you’re terrible at cooking.”

Jyn doesn’t look up from her book. “What’s your point?”

“Maybe hold off on the staring?” Bodhi says. “It worries people.They think you’re going to tear their faces off.”

Right now, though? She wants totear faces off.

Jyn is the last one home, usually, but tonight the restaurant isclosing early, and she’s home by seven pm. She’s only just eased her shoes offwhen she notices the scrap of bloody gauze on the kitchen table, the still-openfirst aid kit and the isopropyl alcohol uncapped. Finn and Rey are nowhere tobe seen, but there’s a telltale scrambling for cover coming from the livingroom area, hissed voices and muffled swearwords. Something clutches at herribs, torques them apart like a spreader in an autopsy room.

“Kitchen,” she says after a moment, trying to swallow through thedesert in her throat. “Now.”

Finn’s the bleeding one. He’s a stocky kid, Finn, and he hasn’t hithis growth spurt yet, so he and Rey are shoulder to shoulder when they bothslink back into the kitchen area, her knuckles bruised and cracked, his nosestill bleeding. The shock of toilet paper against his skin and the blush ofblood on the material is bad enough, really, but on top of that he’s limping,and he flinches when Rey touches his ribs, like someone’s kicked him.

Jyn breathes in, very carefully through her nose, and says, “Explain.”

Rey and Finn burst at once.

“Outside in the quad—”

“It wasn’t anything, Rey—”

“—accused him of stealing—”

“—didn’t do anything—”

“—behind the dumpster—”

“—we were walking home—”

“—eight of them—”

“Rey shouldn’t have—”

She lifts a hand. Both of them stop immediately. Rey’s been crying;she’s picking at her hands, and swaying back and forth on her feet, and hereyes are red and sore-looking. So are her hands. Still, the rest of her seems fairlyunmarked. When Jyn drags a chair around the table, sits down and dumps herpurse on the floor, they both flinch again.

“Come here,” she says, after she gets ahold of herself, and theylook at each other before Finn takes the plunge, creeping forward until he’sstanding right at her knees. Jyn touches his shoulder, light and careful, andthen sorts through the first aid kit. She feels—she knows what anger feelslike, but this is cold, whatever thisis. Coiling into her marrow, spreading hoarfrost over her bones. She finds ascrap of clean gauze, and wets it down with alcohol. “Eight of them?”

“I told Rey to go,” Finn blurts, and then hisses when she touchesthe gauze to the split on his cheek. His eye is going to swell up, just fromthe look of it, and there’s blood crusted in his eyebrow. “She didn’t listenand now she’s going to—”

“You can’t just tell me to go—”

“One at a time,” says Jyn, and Rey starts rocking faster. “You saida dumpster?”

“Behind the school,” says Rey, before Finn can open his mouth. “There’sthose dumspters and we usually cut back there to get to Cushner Street fasterbut—”

“Who?” says Jyn, still feeling far too cold.

“Armie Hux,” says Rey. Finn winces. “Couple of others.”

“Eight of them?”

“Some of them were upperclassmen, I don’t—”

“It doesn’t matter,” saysFinn, and Jyn’s throat gets so tight she can’t speak. “They’ll just say Istarted it, it doesn’t matter—”

“It’s not right, Finn—”

“Rey,” says Jyn. “Can you go in my room for me? There’s a box undermy bed, will you grab it?”

Rey blinks a few times, derailed. “What?”

“Box,” says Jyn. She puts the pinkish gauze on the table, and handsa fresh piece to Finn. “Hold that under your nose, Finn. The box, under thebed. Made of wood. Go grab it for me?”

Rey darts a look at Finn, and bolts off. Jyn doesn’t say anythingfor a while. She dabs at the split on Finn’s cheek, the gash in his eyebrow. He’sholding his ribs with one hand, coiled around himself, and there are splits inhis knuckles, too. A deep gouge.

“Tooth?” she says, and waits until he looks up at her.

“What?”

“Your hand.”

Finn looks at it, and flexes his fingers. His eyebrows crushtogether, and then he hisses. The split’s opened up again, and it’s bleeding. “Shit.”

Jyn takes his hand, and finds a fresh piece of gauze.

“I didn’t take Hux’s laptop,” Finn says, in a hard little voice. “Ididn’t.”

“I know,” says Jyn, without looking away from his hand. It’s deep,the toothmark. It might leave a scar. “Like you need a laptop.”

Finn huffs something that might be half a laugh. It ends in ahiccup. He’s thirteen, and trying to be brave, and the hard shell’s come back abit, the one from the first three months he’d stayed with her and Rey. Jyn dabsa bit of antibacterial onto the gouge, and digs out a four-legged bandaid forhis knuckle.

“Did any teacher see any of this?” she says.

Finn shakes his head. “It was off-campus.”

“Did they say anything to you today? The kids, not the teachers.”

He’s quiet for a long time. “Today, no. Before, sometimes.”

“What kind of stuff?” Jyn doesn’t look at him. “Foster care stuff?”

He shrugs.

“Racial stuff?”

Finn fidgets, and then says, “Sometimes.”

“Teachers ever hear any of it?”

He shakes his head again. “He’s quiet.”

Jyn nods. She clips a bit of wound tape, leans back. “This willhurt.”

Finn doesn’t flinch when she has to pinch the split in his eyebrowtogether, just hisses through his teeth as she presses the tape down. He says, “Ourhomeroom teacher likes him, she won’t believe me anyway, I don’t want Rey toget in trouble—”

“She won’t,” says Jyn, without inflection. “Neither of you are introuble.”

“There was a fight, I kicked Hux in the face—”

“You protected yourself,” she says, and something starts to wobblein Finn, just a little bit. He swallows a few times. “You aren’t in trouble,love.”

“But if they—”

“You aren’t in trouble,” she says again. “I’ll make sure of it.Nobody is going anywhere, I promise you, Finn.”

Finn blinks furiously. Her eyes burn. Jyn puts the wound tape down,and awkwardly lifts her arms, and Finn lungesfor her, the way he never has before, really, his shoulders heaving like he’strying to throw a cat off his back. He clutches at the back of her shirt, andrasps something into her collar, completely unintelligible, something thatmight be close to Mom again. She’snever been maternal in her life, and doesn’t know how it works, doesn’t haveany idea, but it’s easy, in a way, to do this. He’s Finn. He’s her kid.

“You’re okay,” she says, and Finn rasps again. “Nobody’s getting introuble. You’re not going anywhere, love. It’s okay.”

When she looks up, Rey’s watching in tears.

Cassian’s running late, and he’spissed.

He’d made it out of the house ontime. He’d even made onto the yellow line on time, and found a seat by the doorthat meant he wouldn’t have to heave his backpack full of biographies of PanchoVilla (which had been misdirected to his homefor some reason, and not to the school library like they were supposed to be)over his shoulder for the full forty-minute commute. And then, of course, as istypical of the metro system, the yellow line had stalled, which meant that he’dhad to take three buses and walk half a mile before the gates of YavinPreparatory Academy finally came into sight, an hour after his first class hadbeen scheduled to start, and twenty minutes before his second. He’s late, andhe’s pissed, and he hasn’t had coffee yet, and he’s going to get a lecture fromthe vice-principal about getting a car even though he can’t drive, and he’s onlyjust started up the steps into the main admin building when he realizes heforgot his school keys on his kitchen counter, and that Jyn Erso’s getting outof the beat-up car in the nearest parking space.

She looks—statuesque. But not likea traditional romantic statue, he thinks. Like one of the ancient Greek statuesof soldiers in the midst of battle, with the same fierce, hawkish face, likeshe’s about to ram a spear into someone’s guts. The shade of her lipstick justmakes it worse, and the sharpness of her mouth. Very different from theuncomfortable woman at the back-to-school fete, huddling into her hoodie likeit’ll make her invisible, or the woman in the bar four years ago who’d actuallysmiled and propped her chin in her hand and nodded and said things he’d neverheard out of another person’s mouth before. This woman on the pavement is aboutto fight, and quite honestly, despiteall the things he’s thought over the past four years, he’s really hoping it won’tbe him.

She stops dead, just for a moment,at the base of the stairs. Jyn blinks.

“Hi,” she says, after an awkwardbeat.

I’ve never been able to talk to anybody the way I could talk to youthat night and you never called, he wants to say.Then: I’ve spent four years trying to forgetyou existed because for some reason you keep haunting me. Then: You shouldn’t have been able to hurt me theway you did after one conversation but it took me months to get over it and Istill can’t go back to that bar. Then: getthe hell out of my life. Then: none ofthat is appropriate.

Cassian realizes, suddenly, thatthere’s sweat trickling down the back of his neck. “Hi,” he says, and feelsincredibly stupid. “Did you schedule a meeting for Rey?”

“I’m here to talk to theprincipal.” Her mouth creases, and gets sharper. “Do you need help?”

He has a heavy backpack and a justas heavy bag dangling off his shoulder and he’s missing his keys and he wantsto curl up under the nearest car and possibly die of misplaced embarrassment,but he says, “I’m fine.”

“Right.”

They both stand there on thestairwell for a second.

“I have to meet the principal,”she says again, and Cassian realizes he has one hand on the door. “So—”

“Right,” he says, and pulls thedoor open. This could, possibly, be more awkward,but he’s not sure how at the moment. “Right—”

Jyn opens her mouth, shuts itagain, and then says, “Do you know a boy named Armie Hux?”

Cassian blinks. “What?”

“Hux.”

“Yes, but—I don’t see why you’reasking.”

“Nothing,” she says. When sheslips past him into the school, he catches something like vanilla in her hair,and hates himself. “Thanks.”

There isno way he’s going to be able to focus on work today.

#rebelcaptain #foster care au #my writing #prompt #neither pity nor pragmatism

146 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 7 years

Text

Jupiter Ascending Fic: When the Bough Breaks

Summary: Just days after Balem returned to his adult self, Jupiter is thrown head-first into another adventure - one she, frankly, really doesn't have the energy for. But when has the universe ever taken her desires into account? Mysteries, promises, and desperate moves forward; bees, splices, and awkward family dinners. It's enough to make even her seasoned head spin.

...which doesn't even include the chance to play at 'Mother' once more. Only question is: will Jupiter take it?

(Sequel to Rock the Cradle)

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Words: 1,614 (so far)

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse, alcoholism

Pairings: Jupiter/Caine

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting)

When the Bough Breaks: Chapter One

Jupiter sat with her back to most of the crowd, the sun warming her neck and her hands fidgeting endlessly. One traced the condensation on her glass while the other twisted the stud in her ear.

“I spy with my little eye…” she said, turning to scan the patrons. There was certainly a lot to choose from. The day was hot, the shopping good, and everyone seemed to have had the same idea as her: get lunch at the cute little outdoor café. Jupiter saw a young couple playing footsie underneath their table, the one girl’s heels gliding over the other’s sandals. There was another woman whom she presumed was a teacher, hard at work even during the summer months, covering some poor student’s paper using Track Changes. A group of guys shared a large plate of nachos. A father absently pet his daughter’s hair as he scowled at his phone. A mother—

Jupiter whirled back around. She planted her chin in her hand and pursed her lips. Then she smiled at Caine.

“Something yellow,” she finished.

“The confection on those men’s chips,” Caine answered readily. He bit his lip slightly when she huffed.

“How—?”

“Your stared at them a moment longer than the other spots. Did you want some?”

Nachos… food did always make her feel better. She’d already had a chicken and pesto sandwich though. And an iced chai. And half of Caine’s blueberry scone.

Jupiter waved him off. “No, I’m good. You’re cheating though.”

“I am?” Caine blinked. “I thought the purpose of this game was to determine what you’d spotted based on eye-line matches, common facial tells, your individual preferences…” he trailed off when Jupiter’s sulking grew more pronounced.

“You’re supposed to guess,” she moaned.

“That… doesn’t seem to take much skill…”

Jupiter let out a groan and gave up, planting her head on the cool tabletop. Why she’d thought it would be a good idea to teach Caine a kid’s game, she didn’t know. It had started as a stupid distraction, but apparently her subconscious wasn’t willing to let things go just yet. So Jupiter was now perfectly content to glare at the table, thank you very much. It was one of those frosted glass ones and Jupiter took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in watching her blurred feet kick at the slate. She only stopped when her flip-flop bent—betrayal—and she stubbed her toe. Jupiter muttered a few obscenities into the crook of her arm.

A minute passed. Two. Then Jupiter felt the slightest poke on the top of her head. It turned into five fingers gently massaging her scalp and she groaned again, this time in contentment.

“I spy with my little eye… A queen who is rather worried about tonight’s festivities.”

“Festivities.” Jupiter’s head shot back up and she blinked at Caine. “I wouldn’t really call it ‘festivities.’”

“No? You decided to host the event.”

Okay. So Jupiter may or may not have been overly optimistic and grasping at straws the second she walked out of that throne room. Could anyone really blame her? Her life hadn’t exactly been plan-proof lately: abducted by aliens, finding out she was Queen of Far Too Much Shit, landing herself a hunky angel-wolf-boyfriend…

… finding out her would-be murderer had possibly, deliberately de-aged himself.

Balem.

That was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? One moment Jupiter was sort of getting used to her newfound space life, the next a capitalist obsessed mama’s boy was taking up residence in her lap. She wasn’t going to lie, not to herself at least. Balem had drawn forth a whole slew of maternal instincts that, frankly, Jupiter had thought she’d missed out on genetically. Devotion to Dude Bros 1 through 6 of her misspent youth certainly hadn’t inspired a desire for kids. Hell, even Caine hadn’t managed that, not until Jupiter actually saw him shuffling around a cranky six-year-old, trying to figure out how to talk to this girlfriend-stealing creature. Maybe it was a sliver of Seraphi rising up within her… no. Maybe it was the essence of what Seraphi could have been, if she’d bothered to spend a second to get to know the child she’d given life to. Maybe it was just that Jupiter couldn’t stand to see a tiny face crying like that. Whatever it was, Balem had managed to become quite the fixture within her heart—all the sappiness implied. Jupiter loved the brat. Only problem was, that brat was gone.

Sort of. Kind of? One second she’d had what she was coming to think of as a son, the next Jupiter just had an enemy again, breathing insults down the back of her neck… except that Balem had changed deliberately. He had started all this. At least, that was the impression Kalique and Titus held. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Balem was reading Liam and Cryian’s story the day he took a Regene-X bath with a disabled genetic code. Or hell, maybe it was a coincidence. Caine and Stinger certainly weren’t convinced (“You Majesty,” soft eyes, an almost pitying stare. “Balem, the adult Balem, lost the ability to love centuries ago…”). All Jupiter knew for sure was that she’d seen evidence of her own, things that went beyond Kalique’s stupid book or the boys’ cynicism: Balem had worn her earring. He hadn’t tossed the album back in a charred heap. Jupiter knew—could see it in his eyes—that he remembered.

Certainly all the counted for something, right?

Jupiter planted her face into her hands. “Or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered to take the damn earring out,” she muttered.

Caine nodded, understanding, fingers returning to massage Jupiter’s wrist, right where her Entitled tattoo lay. He had callouses all over, the result of handling a ridiculously wide variety of weaponry, and Jupiter found the rough texture soothing. She let out a long, slow breath.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with all this,” she said, nodding to the bags at their feet. “This was a stupid idea.”

“Stinger will appreciate the food. Even more if you cook it for him.”

“Ha. Yeah. How do you get so good at pancakes and nothing else?”

“It’s a talent.”

Jupiter continued nudging the nearest bag with the front of her flip-flop. As she did, movement caught her eye again: that mother, sitting on the table to their right, spoon feeding her infant something mushy and green. It was easy for that woman, wasn’t it? Nothing was easy for Jupiter as a potentially would-be mother… or as a daughter.

She’d been stupidly optimistic a week ago. Dealing with Balem’s transformation and his quick turn back, Jupiter had admittedly been reeling a bit. She’d thrown out the invitation to dinner with more confidence than she’d felt, especially considering there hadn’t been a dinner scheduled yet. Kalique and Titus had both agreed readily enough—no doubt they wanted to get as much dirt on their brother as possible, though the more she thought about it, the more Jupiter convinced herself that Balem wouldn’t even show. Why would he? Tens of thousands of years weren’t outweighed by a few days in her care. Besides, if Balem was anything, he was stubborn.

Sometime between Friday and Saturday those dinner plans had turned into a “reveal-you’re-a-galactic-queen-to-your-family-omg-it’s-time-Jupiter” party. She had promised her mom two days, after that fiasco of a dinner. She’d intended to call a meeting and explain things on Monday, as calmly and rationally as possible when her life was neither calm nor rational. Jupiter knew there was a hell of a lot to explain. When she’d touched back down on Earth after seeing to Balem, she’d found her family happily back at home, neither Aleksa nor Nino recalling that just hours before Jupiter had disappeared on their client’s lawn, dematerializing in a flash of blue light. Apparently the Keepers stationed on Earth had a damn good response time.

Memory wipes after the refinery… after Balem… how long could this go on? Jupiter didn’t know what the long term effects of something like that was, and frankly, she didn’t want to find out. Just tell them all ready, you dolt.

So… Monday. That had been the plan, anyway. Her mom and the others would have a few days days before Thursday’s dinner to process it all, which was a hell of a lot more than Jupiter had gotten. Imagine, coming to terms with extraterrestrial life without said life pointing a laser gun at your head, and they weren’t the once inheriting a freaking planet. (Unless they were? Who gained her inheritance when she died?? Ugh, legalities…) The only problem with this master plan was that Monday had passed her by, with Jupiter spending it hovering anxiously around her mom—opening and shutting her mouth like a caught, cowardly trout.

…Easy to imagine how well that had gone over.

Tuesday gone, Wednesday too, Thursday morning at 12:00 Jupiter had called a quick goodbye after finishing the Lawrence’s house, met Caine at the store, and proceeded to purchase all the ingredients for a dinner that was only technically still in the works.

Here and now, Jupiter sullenly kicked the bag of groceries. Again.

“You’ll break the eggs,” Caine cautioned. He didn’t sound terribly upset about that though.

“Why did we even get eggs? You don’t need eggs for a steak and baked potato dinner.”

“Stinger wants to broaden his breakfast repertoire.”

Jupiter narrowed her eyes. “Well Stinger can just—”

Bzz, Bzz.

“—call me apparently." Caine shrugged, no more knowledgeable than she was. All Jupiter could do was palm her phone and lean her elbow casually on the table.

"Hey, beekeeper. What's up?”

#Jupiter Ascending #JA #JAfic #Jupiter Jones #Caine Wise #I've wanted to start this sequel for a very long time honestly <3

4 notes · View notes

stephspencer10 · 4 years

Text

Post updated.View Post

In 2017, I bought and read Maud’s Story, a 2013 self-published/Vanity Press book written by my Aunt Charlotte LeBaron — my Mother’s brother Verlan LeBaron’s first wife.

It’s a short book consisting mainly of letters supposedly written by Maud Lucinda McDonald LeBaron* — letters run-together in often hard-to-decipher paragraphs more akin to vignettes.

It appears, at the time of this book’s writing, Aunt Charlotte still held fast to The Church of the First Born. This I assume because “Maud’s Story” contains a revised version/a rewrite of the history and teachings of the “Prophet Joel LeBaron” saga; wherein she turns the tale upside down and Joel into a martyred Prophet. By so doing, she shows, though not intentionally, how religious myths are made.

Maud Lucinda McDonald LeBaron is my maternal grandmother, of whom I’m “the spittin’ image” — I was always told while growing up. The above photo of her looks so much like me at that age, I look at it and think it is me. I can’t tell the difference!

When I saw, on Amazon.com, Aunt Charlotte had published my Grandma Maud LeBaron’s story, I spent $4.00 … and three hours reading it. Such was its brevity. That even includes the many times I had to re-read parts, attempting to understand what the heck had been said.

Suffice it to say, the book was no bargain! It left me wanting more. It’s supposed to be Grandmother LeBaron’s story; but missing in the biography are many tales Grandma used to tell about her life.

Nevertheless, nobody else has published anything much about Grandma Maud. So I’m glad Aunt Charlotte wrote as much as she did. “If you don’t like how the story was written, write it yourself,” they say.

Still, I resent that Aunt Charlotte used Grandmother Maud: She wrote a book “about” Grandma that was largely meant to draw in Grandma’s progeny, relatives and others; and convert them to her’s/Charlotte’s and Uncle Joel’s Church of the Firstborn doctrine — a la Charlotte LeBaron’s viewpoint, however — if they were not already members of Joel’s church. In that sense, Maud’s Story really should be “Charlotte’s Story.”

I was disappointed “Maud’s Story” wasn’t imbued with more of Grandmother’s colorful history. And disgusted she borrowed heavily from The LeBaron Story — a book my mother Esther LeBaron Spencer largely wrote — without stating she was quoting from that book; let alone crediting my mother.

She includes in her booklet numerous “Quotes from Grandma’s Notes.” Doesn’t write much, otherwise, about Grandma. Perhaps, to get more of Grandma’s history, Charlotte expects us to read The LeBaron Story, a manuscript consisting mostly of my mom’s work that Aunt Charlotte helped her husband Verlan LeBaron compile, finish, and publish.

Both The LeBaron Story and Maud’s Story strike me as an apologist’s story written to preach the Church of the Firstborn/CotFotfot doctrine.

In other words, Maud’s Story‘s general flavor is biased and provincial. It whitewashes and glorifies the Alma Dayer and Maud Lucinda McDonald LeBaron family, making them, the Mexico-LeBarons, look like a Godly family with a saintly mission.

I find this covert preaching of the CotFotfot dogma distasteful — especially the revising of its doctrine and history to make it more palatable than it was when my Uncles Ervil and Joel LeBaron first spawned this sect/cult in 1955—a take off from their older brothers Ross Wesley LeBaron Sr. and Ben LeBaron’s cults, as well as other Mormon fundamentalist cults.

To summarize, Aunt Charlotte has white-washed history in The LeBaron Story and Maud’s Story so as to turn Uncle Joel into a Prophet, Saint, and Martyr. And his untimely murder into a Modern-Day Cain and Abel Story. But there’s a lot more to this dirty tale than meets the eye. So “Charlotte’s Story” is as much a myth in the making as it is a revisionist-history’s gold mine.

My final thoughts on Maud’s Story: Grandmother should have given a sermon or two in church if she was as erudite and well-versed in the cult’s dogma as she appears to be in Charlotte’s short biography where she uses Grandmother Maud to preach Joel’s dogma.

In truth, Grandmother was a musician and homemaker … no Scriptorian! She left the preaching and proselytizing up to leaders in the cult; preferred to be in the kitchen cooking and feeding people, when she wasn’t teaching piano lessons and taking care of kids and the homestead.

Perhaps Aunt Charlotte didn’t know it but William Preston Tucker (my now-deceased husband) and my Uncle Ervil LeBaron put their heads together to write those letters Charlotte says Grandma wrote to Spencer W. Kimball!

I was there at the time. I recall these two leaders of the LeBaron Church/cult talking about how they could use Grandma Maud as a ploy to get the President of the LDS church to read their [LeBaron cult] literature because she had grown up with Spencer W. Kimball.

They figured he would read a letter from Maud, his childhood friend, though not literature from her sons and their LeBaron cult. (So they were sneaking up on Pres. Kimball by way of Maud.)*

Suffice it to say, Aunt Charlotte wasn’t honest about the story of how my Uncle Joel became the self-proclaimed One Mighty and Strong. Therefore, I don’t trust much of what she relates in her book. I know for sure, for example, Grandmother Maud DID NOT write most of those letters Charlotte credits her with.

You only have to look at Grandma’s “Notes ‘n’ Quotes” Charlotte wrote “in Grandma’s own words” to get a good example of how Grandmother wrote. When you carefully compare “Grandma’s words” to those eruditely-written letters to Spencer W. Kimball, you can see they were NOT written by Grandma LeBaron.

A final word: Should anyone consider doing a reprint of Maud’s Story, please get a good Editor to go over it beforehand. Also, do not run Grandmother’s “Notes ‘n’ Quotes” together as if they were one organized piece. They’re not!

They are short vignettes, and should be separated as such; so the reader isn’t hoping to find the rest of the tale in the next paragraph, only to be left hanging by the tail — for a whole new tale takes up in the next paragraph!

*”Ghost writing“/deception was the name of the game when I was sequestered in the LeBaron cult in the 1960s. The sect’s two leading Scriptorians My Uncle Ervil LeBaron and my husband William Preston Tucker would write the exposé or such. Then publish it with whatever name or signature they thought would be most impressive and most likely to convert those receiving the literature.

youtube

(Comments transferred from Facebook”:)

Says Moira Blackmore:

I knew Maud, she went out of her busy days by visiting me all alone in Galeana with my 4 baby girls, and when their were shooting guns in my back neighborhood… thank you Steff … I love you, Maud, I love Charlotte as well, years later …

My response to Moira: I appreciate your feedback, Moira, and your attempts to always be positive and loving. That’s what makes the world go around. I’m so happy Grandma visited you and helped lift your spirits during a very bad time.

I remember her being concerned about your being over there alone; and her begging someone to take her over to visit you. I do not remember who she got to do the driving as she could not drive.

And now I’m getting off onto a bunny trail: I know she visited you out of care and concern for you and your situation. But she was also often there for visitors and people she was trying to help convert to the cult. Converts meant more people saved, more tithing money — and consecrations of all their wealth to the Bishop’s storehouse!

Such money was largely how Grandma and her sons managed to survive down in the Mexico-LeBaron colony. Especially was more money needed as each of her sons married more and more wives who bore more and more children.

Given her help with the church’s conversion of new members, it seems aging Grandma Maud had no energy and time left over for her own hundreds of grand, great-grand, great-great, and great-great-great-grandchildren, and so on and on … not to mention her thousands of other relatives ad infinitum.

During the two years I lived at home, before I was married off at age 16, I recall only a few times after we moved to the LeBaron colony that she ever came by her daughter/my mother Esther LeBaron Spencer’s place to visit; even though we lived within walking distance of Grandmother Maud.

Nor did my Grandmother Maud ever visit me, once I was married, even in my hours of need and desperation; although I lived within walking distance of her.

I may as well have not had a grandmother. But she did help Mother a lot after my father died. By then I was 18 and married — no longer living with my mom.

When I was fourteen and we moved from the United States to where Grandmother Maud lived in Mexico, I had thought: Now I will finally have one of those grandmothers I have so often read about in children’s literature and so longed to have as I was growing up.

But Grandmother Maud, though she had favored and spoiled my mama when she was raising her, was never emotionally there for me nor the rest of my mother’s thirteen other children, as far as I know. Not much, anyway.

For me, she never was a grandma that made cookies for her grandkids, let alone did she give us grandchildren any other gifts. Nor even hugs. She always had a big twinkling smile for me and her other grandchildren, though; whenever we saw her at church or elsewhere.

Our Family was not a hugging-touching family. But pioneer-woman Grandmother was also simply overwhelmed and overworked, given her primitive lifestyle and her monumental duties; including being the church pianist and the colony’s piano teacher.

To put it succinctly, there was simply no way my ever-aging grandmother could muster all the time and energy needed to keep up with her exponentially growing progeny. She was already 68 years old when my family moved to the LeBaron colony; I was 14 years old then.

I had always lived within walking distance of her, while in the LeBaron colony; so she did come by three or four times, after I was married, to give me some piano lessons. She was around seventy-three years old then! Thanks, Grandma!

But, other than that, in the four years I lived near her, and on my own, after I was married at sixteen, Grandmother dropped by one other time — though not to see her new grandchild, my first child, that I had almost died giving birth to, at age seventeen. My baby and I were simply taken for granted, as was generally the custom there!

The reason she came by that one other time was to take back a piece of piano sheet music she had given me that she now wanted to turn around and take away from me to give to an investigator of our cult who was a pianist! I told Grandma, “No! You gave the music to me!! It’s mine now! I want it. You can’t take it back to give to somebody else!”

Grandmom was furious with me for not giving it back to her so she could gift it to the investigator of our “Church”! Getting converts — new people into God’s work — was part of her and her sons’ bread and butter. So that investigator was more important than I, her granddaughter. On top of that, she treated me as if the music still belonged to her, though she had given it to me the year before. Such “Indian trading”!

Now I know where Mother learned this taking-back what she had given me, as if she still had tabs on it; so could turn around, whenever she wanted to, and give it to somebody else — even though I still very much wanted it and it belonged to me!

I never knew what to depend on. Then you wonder what causes schizophrenic kids? I’m at least sure this behavior did not help any.

Bottom line: When there are lots of kids and relatives, they are not highly valued. They get taken for granted. They are pawns in the hands of the powers that be and regularly sacrificed for “the cause”!

Rachel LeBaron Anderson:

The BIG question: “Will what you are going to say improve the world by being said?”

Steph Spencer Good question, Rachel! I ask myself that important question all the time as I write my Memoirs!

Rachel LeBaron Anderson You are bringing healing to the younger generations trying to make sense of everything, building strong roots, many generations will be glad someone wrote things down.

Steph Spencer Thanks so much for this insightful response and feedback! As always, Rachel, you show wisdom and intellect. Your remarks are much appreciated and will help me as I take time to make sense of everything on my end. That is certainly one of my goals!

Dena McLean I enjoyed reading this book, not only to learn about family but specifically learn more about my Great Grandmother Maud. I know the story is all in perspective but I like to hear all perspectives.

Even if I don’t agree with the religious views, I find it fascinating how they chose Joel LeBaron, Alma’s priesthood keys and all the people connected to each story and then trying to find them in genealogy. Right now, I’m trying to discover if the man who baptized Maud was John Smith, as in Joseph Smith’s brother’s son or another John Smith. I hope to find some truth.

Steph Spencer Thank you for this valuable feedback. As always, I’m impressed with your scholarliness. To be sure, Charlotte’s Maud’s Story is skewed: It attempts to convert people to the belief that Joel was a true Prophet, etc.

Aunt Charlotte Kunz LeBaron was there pretty much from the beginning of Joel and Ervil’s “Church,” but chose to change how Joel got the “priesthood keys,” et cetera. Newcomers to the story believe her fabrications. That’s how myths are built.

Review of Charlotte LeBaron’s “Maud’s Story” Post updated.View Post In 2017, I bought and read Maud's Story, a 2013 self-published/Vanity Press…

0 notes

richmegavideo · 5 years

Text

Gobi Chronicles – 1

“Gobi”!   

The very name brings a smile to the faces of the descendants of the Vembathi clan. The years spent as children in our grandfather Vembathi Subramaniya Iyer’s house remain as cherished memories in our minds. My mother and her sisters would come together during vacations and all of us cousins would run wild in its premises. The very atmosphere in the house was one of affection, inclusion, generosity and kindness. This is felt not only by those who share thatha’s gene pool but also by those who are associated with the family by marriage. My own husband may drive me nuts on a number of issues but is in total agreement on my opinion of the ‘unique’ family that the Vembathi clan happens to be. Sons and daughters in law of three generations have become an integral part of our family and that speaks well of the interpersonal relationships that we share. This was possible not only because of the great human being that thatha was and also because of my maternal uncle Krishnamurthy mama and his wife Kamakshi Mami who carried forward the legacy of a rich culture that he left behind. Could Krishnamurthy mama's children have been different? They are as dear to us as their parents and welcome us with the same warm affection that their mother exuded sixty years back. Is it any wonder that I look forward to a visit to Gobi like a daughter visiting her maternal home or that my eyes well up when I leave the place? Yes, I may be a grandmother now but till date I cannot prostrate at my uncle’s feet without experiencing a lump in my throat.   The following is the first of my posts on life in Vembathi House and I dedicate it to my Mami’s memory. 

I remember very few details of my mama’s wedding that took place in June 1956. I remember playing in the sand in front of a huge ‘pandal’ as a five year old and also being admonished for calling Kamakshi Mami by name. Since mama was the youngest sibling, everyone called his wife by name. I must have thought that I could do so too. But my earliest memory of Kamakshi Mami is of a kind faced lady who welcomed us with a smile whenever we visited them. I don’t remember her talking directly to my father or other male members in those early years. But her body language was such that one felt at home immediately. Her interactions with my mother and her sisters (5 of them) was always balanced. They were much older than her. In fact my oldest aunt was 20 years older than her and she once confided to me that she had mistaken my aunt to be her mother in law and it was only after marriage that she realized that she was the oldest sister in law. I don’t remember a single instance when she got into a controversy or trouble with them. She might have had her opinion on family matters but she never openly voiced them always choosing to remain neutral. That was perhaps the best way to maintain a cordial relationship with five older sisters in law. My grandfather loved her like a daughter and she absolutely deserved his affection.   

If Kamakshi Mami had no mother in law to domineer over her, our maid Moopachi doubled up for one. She had a loud voice and having worked for our family for several years she could up pull up the cook for his lack of culinary skills and complain about his coffee that tasted like ‘gutter water’. She would scream at her grandchildren, who would come along to help her, if their work was shoddy. She could shout at anyone of us if she felt that we were not doing our bit. She considered the house as her own and exercised her authority on all of us. It seems that in the early years of her marriage Mami would remain in her room till Moopachi left, for fear of being admonished, although Moopachi was nice to her.  Those were days when daughters left their older children with their parents and Vembathi House was no exception. So when Mami arrived on the scene four or five of my cousins in their primary and middle schools were already studying in Gobi. The children would quarrel and fight. She took care of their needs without a frown on her face and remained so even when years later my widowed mother relocated to Gobi with five children and continued to stay on even after my grandfather’s death.

Mami had a good voice that was trained to sing Carnatic music. I can almost hear her sing  "Pralaya payodhijale"...... an Ashtapadhi that she learnt a little before my marriage in 1973. She was deeply religious and even when she went through patches of bad periods in her life she would never blame God. I used to often hear her say that her devotion to God was perhaps not adequate enough and she might have unknowingly displeased Him. One activity that she enjoyed doing was to decorate the puja mandapam and to fix beads and beautify the silver image of Goddess Lakshmi. She would prefer to read Shankara Kripa or other religious literature rather than Tamil magazines and her social circle included groups that enrolled themselves to learn Abhirami andhadi or slokams.  My father would ask her to sing ‘Ranga pura vihara’ or 'Entharo Mahanubhava' for him when he visited. She would oblige and I remember her sitting behind a half closed door out of respect for my father and singing in a soft voice. Mami once told me that she would find it boring to start music lessons soon after school but her music teacher would be waiting for her when she returned home from school. On one occasion she could not help saying “ ஐயோ பாட்டு வாத்தியாரா?” ( Oh no! Is it the music teacher?). And the teacher heard her. So thereafter he would tease her saying “ஐயோ பாட்டு வாத்தியார் வந்துட்டேன்”. ( oh no! Music teacher has come).   

In the initial years of my marriage, like everyone else, I too had trouble bonding with my acquired family. Mami felt bad that I had been living so far from my maternal ( actually my mother’s ) home and had to deal with my problems on my own. She suggested that mama or someone else should find reasons to visit me more often to offer moral support till I felt more comfortable in my husband’s place. It was not practically possible but I was grateful to her for the suggestion.  It was perhaps the care she gave us that made her dependent on the care of others for the last seventeen years of her life. I so wish it hadn’t been that way. I wish I could have given back at least something of what she had given me. The only thing that I can now do is to pass on the kindness I received from her to others around me.      

The post Gobi Chronicles – 1 appeared first on .

from WordPress http://www.richmegavideo.com/gobi-chronicles-1/

#Hip Hop

0 notes