Milky

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie/Little: Hyunjin (age 3-5)

Caregiver: Jisung (daddy), Jeongin (appa)

 Noone’s POV.:

Hyunjin loved his two caregivers dearly, Jisung and Jeongin were always so gentle and patient with him and took care of the dancer with their whole hearts. However, the oldest of the trio was still used to considering his time in headspace as his ‘me-time’, so he really enjoyed the times he’d be at the dorm alone. Today was no exception, they had a day off and knowing how busy they had been recently, the caretakers offered to stay at the dorm with Hyunjin to let him regress, while the rest of Stray Kids would head out and enjoy the early spring weather. The dancer refused because he knew how much the younger two had been looking forward to their off day, to go shopping and to get pastries at a café close by. Yes, he planned to regress but he’d be fine to do that on his own, he had been taking care of his little self until a few months ago. He sat on the couch scrolling through social media and waiting for his members to leave. Hyunjin felt the couch dip beside him before Jisung’s voice pulled him from his thoughts: “Hey, are you sure you want to stay here by yourself? You haven’t regressed in a while and we could have some relaxing family time.” – “Sung, I’m fine really. You should go soon or the others will leave without you”, the dancer put on a smile although his dongsaeng’s offer sounded tempting. “Are planning on being little? I know Innie is excited to go out but I’d really have no issue with staying here”, the rapper questioned, chewing on his lip, “I have a bad feeling about leaving you by yourself when you’re in headspace.” Hyunjin chuckled at his friend’s protectiveness, he could still remember the times when they didn’t get along at all. “It’s alright, I’m not planning on regressing”, he lied, “I just want to catch up on some anime series and maybe take a nap.” Noticing Jisung’s conflicted expression, he added: “And yes, I’m sure. Go Sungie, everyone else is waiting for you.”

Not even five minutes later, Hyunjin was alone. Unlike what he had told his friend, he immediately waddled to his room to change into an oversized hoodie and overalls. Jeongin had gifted him a cute baby pink paci after becoming his caregiver, which the dancer happily sucked on while digging through the box under his bed in search of crayons and his coloring book. It took him a while to pull the items from the bottom of the box because he could only use one had to get them out, his other hand was clutching the fuzzy cream-colored teddy, Jisung had brought home one evening to make up for spending all day at the studio leaving the little at home by himself. That had been during the times, that Jisung used to be his only caregiver. Ever since Jeongin joined the rapper in taking care of their little friend, Hyunjin had only regressed with at least one of his caregivers around. When he finally managed to get his coloring book and the box of crayons out, the little squealed happily, almost dropping his paci in the process. He caught it by quickly slapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide before exhaling in relief that his beloved comfort item was still between his lips. Trying to fit all his things into his hands, the dancer waddled to the common area of the dorm and dropped everything on the dining table before pulling a chair out and sitting down cross-legged. The teddy found its place in Hyunjin’s lap from where it could watch him color and the dancer got to work on a fresh page of his coloring book.

The little happily colored away, not a care in the world. He had just finished his third drawing when his stomach growled. Looking down in shock, Hyunjin placed a hand on his stomach. He just now realized how hungry he had gotten, having lost track of time, the dancer didn’t know if it was time for lunch already but he also didn’t really care. Coloring was hard work and he had definitely earned himself some food. The dancer had relaxed so much that he had slipped into his younger headspace and his plan of having some fruit with a sippy of apple juice suddenly turned out to be more difficult than expected. Usually his caregivers sliced the fruit for him, although in the older range of his headspace, Hyunjin would manage to do that himself. Now, being in the youngest range of his headspace, the little was terrified of knives and even more terrified of hurting himself while being alone. Deep in thought, the dancer chewed on his teddy’s ear, paci abandoned next to the box of crayons. He always chewed his teddy’s ear when he needed to think, only the right one though, which already looked a bit frayed. The image of his bottle suddenly popped into his head, eyes lighting up. “Milky!”, the little exclaimed, scrambling up to get his bottle and dropping his teddy in the process. Hyunjin froze, looking extremely guilty as he crouched down to pick up the stuffed bear. Stroking the soft fabric, he mumbled: “Jinnie, weally sowwy. Nuh wan’ dwop chu.” With the bear clutched close to his chest, the dancer made his way back to his room and knelt down next to his box of little gear. A fond smile decorated his lips when he pulled out his bottle, but the smile soon turned into a clueless pout, looking at the container with formula. Not having prepared milk for himself in a long time, the little had forgotten how many scoops of formula his was supposed to use. Sure, he could call either of his caregivers and just ask but he wanted to take care of himself like a big boy, besides if they knew he was little, they would come home immediately and he really didn’t want to ruin their fun. Little Jinnie always hated being a burden.

Hyunjin decided to just look for some milk in the fridge and excitedly skipped to the kitchen. Setting his teddy and bottle down on the counter, he opened the fridge and smiled when he found a carton of strawberry milk. This sounded even better than his formula. For a second, the little got distracted, repeatedly shutting the fridge very slowly to see the light switch off, before forcing himself to focus as he poured the lightly pink milk into his bottle, using both hands and making sure to fill it to the very brim. Putting the milk carton away, got him into another cycle of opening and closing the fridge before he focused back on his bottle, screwing the top on without spilling anything. The milk smelled too tasty to be wasted by being clumsy. With his bottle and teddy in hand, Hyunjin waddled to the couch, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and cuddling up under it. He turned on the TV, switching channels till he found one of his favorite kids shows before settling in to start drinking his milk. The strawberry flavored drink was even yummier than he expected and he wondered why his caregivers never gave him any of it, instead letting him drink formula, that didn’t even really taste like milk. Slowly the little’s eyelids got heavier, sucking on his bottle always made him sleepy, and after setting the empty bottle on the coffee table, he fell asleep to the sounds of his cartoon playing.

His nap however didn’t last too long and the dancer was soon woken up by a twisting pain in his stomach. He looked down and carefully rubbed circles on his middle like his caregivers usually did when he had an upset stomach. It didn’t soothe the pain in the slightest, only causing his stomach to let out an angry gurgle. As high as Hyunjin’s pain tolerance was in his adult headspace, as low it was when he was little. Feeling helpless, a small tear slipped from his eye, followed by another. The little curled further in on himself, willing the pain to go away and hoping his members would come back home soon. He didn’t know how long he had been lying there, crying into his stuffed bear and yearning for both, his caregivers and his paci, which was out of reach on the dinner table where he had been coloring and which was the only thing that could help him calm down when his caregivers weren’t around. Shifting in pain, the dancer felt his phone in his pocket and after only a few seconds of resisting, he tapped Jisung’s number, which he had on speed dial for obvious reasons. It only took one ring for the rapper to pick up, he had had a bad gut feeling all day, so he was really worried when his little’s name lit up on the display. “Hey Jinnie”, he greeted neutrally, not knowing in which headspace his friend was. He heard quiet sniffles and what sounded like a suppressed sob, Hyunjin’s voice was soft and shaky when he replied: “D-Daddy. Pwease h-help. Jinnie’s t-tummy has the h-hurties weally b-bad.” Jisung’s eyes widened in shock, knowing his intuition had ended up being true. “It’s ok, sweetie. Try to calm down for daddy, yeah? I’ll just get appa really quick and we’ll be home in no time”, the caregiver assured, walking over to the maknae with the phone close to his ear. Trying to not get too distracted by his little’s pained cries, he explained the situation as fast as he could and pulled the youngest member along with him, while the rest of the group watched in sympathy. “Jinnie, hey, can you try to take a deep breath for daddy? Daddy and appa are already coming but we need you to calm down. Did you already eat lunch, princess?”, Jisung asked hoping the dancer just suffered from hunger pains. Hyunjin on the other side of the line sniffled, trying to take a deep breath like his daddy had told him to: “Jinnie had some milky.” – “Really, you mixed your formula by yourself?”, the rapper questioned and looked over at Jeongin, who raised an eyebrow. “Nuh-uh, Jinnie found stwabewwy milky. ‘Twas weally tasty”, Hyunjin smiled at the memory before another cramp shot through his abdomen and he had to bite into his teddy’s ear to keep himself from crying out loud. Jisung had paled at the little’s words, making eye-contact with the other caregiver and frowning: “Jinnie, you know that you can’t have milk. It always hurts your tummy, that’s why we got you a lactose-free formula.” Jeongin looked shocked when he concluded what had happened from only hearing one side of the conversation. They picked up their pace and only had a few blocks to go before reaching their dorm. Jisung wanted to stay on the phone till they reached their little but the call was ended abruptly and he only heard beeping.

Hyunjin had ended the call and dropped his phone. He was already in pain and now his daddy was upset at him for doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Would they even come back to him after him being a bad boy? The little got more and more worked up, pulling the blanket over his head and making himself as small as possible. He sobbed hard, clutching his teddy to his chest in an attempt to find some comfort. It didn’t help that all the crying gave him the hiccups and the little was starting to taste the artificial strawberry flavor again. Hyunjin wasn’t able to hear the door slamming open over his cries but suddenly there were hands on him, removing the blanket to reveal his shaking form and tearstained face. At first the little startled away but soon realized the hands belonged to his daddy and looking up, he also found his appa standing close by. Strong but gentle arms picked him up and he found himself cradled against Jisung’s chest. “Ssh, it’s okay, sweetie. We’re here, everything will be ok”, the rapper hummed, rocking them both from side to side but soon stilled his movement, when he got a glimpse of the dancer’s face before it was shoved into his hoodie covered shoulder. “I’ll go find his lactase pills”, Jeongin announced, leaving the pair on the couch. “Innie? Maybe also get a bucket”, the older requested, drawing comforting circles on the little’s back, whose shoulders shook with hiccups and sobs. There was an audible gurgling noise followed by Hyunjin whimpering: “Huwts, daddy.” The caregiver cringed in sympathy, praying the maknae would hurry, while he watched the color drain from the little’s face. “I know, princess, daddy knows. Appa’s getting some medicine for you, that will make the hurties go away”, he promised, tucking the dancer’s hair behind his ears.

Jeongin didn’t take nearly as long as it felt to both, Jisung and Hyunjin, and crouched down next to the pair. “Jinnie, can you look at appa, princess? I got you some medicine”, the maknae smiled comfortingly, “on the other hand, judging by his skin-shade I think he needs to get at least some of the milk out before he can even swallow it”, the vocalist frowned at Jisung. The rapper had already expected this and quietly took the bucket from Jeongin. Standing up, the maknae set the box of pills on the coffee table and pulled a few colorful hairclips from the pocket of his hoodie. Hyunjin loved to wear them when playing dress up and he thought they would come in handy, keeping the little’s long hair out of the line of fire, should he need to be sick. Gently, he brushed the messy strands back and clipped them to the back of the dancer’s head, keeping his movements slow and steady. Both caregivers knew that the thought of throwing up scared the little and they could see him getting restless and uneasy in Jisung’s lap, so they needed to act extra-calm in order to keep him from freaking out. “I nuh be sick!”, Hyunjin announced stubbornly but when the next hiccup was followed by a wet burp, he quickly clamped his hands over his mouth as more tears streamed down his face. “It’s ok, sweetie. It’s better to get the things that are hurting you out, so they can’t hurt you anymore”, the rapper encouraged in a low voice, bringing the bucket a bit closer. Jeongin stood in front of Jisung, keeping the little between them on Jisung’s lap. The maknae stroked Hyunjin’s back comfortingly, while Jisung steadied the little with one arm and used the other arm to hold the bucket in Hyunjin’s lap.

A silent gag caused the dancer to pitch forward over the bucket but he kept his hands clamped tightly over his mouth, whining loudly at the burning sensation at the back of his throat. “Princess, daddy is right. You need to let the bad stuff out so that the pain can go away”, Jeongin frowned. Hyunjin shook his head, coughing behind his hands, which turned into another, wetter gag. Sighing, the maknae grabbed the dancer’s wrists, gently pulling his hands down, just in time for the little to burp up a small pinkish stream into the bucket. “That’s it, baby, get it all out”, Jisung cooed. The smell and taste were enough to send Hyunjin over the edge again, the milk not nearly as tasty having it on his tongue for a second time. He hiccupped weakly, choking on his saliva and coughing a bigger wave into the bucket, the liquid splashing hollowly against the plastic. Hyunjin couldn’t breathe, the was bitter liquid in his throat and he couldn’t breathe. It was only for a few seconds but to the little it seemed like forever and he started to freak out. Sobbing loudly, clutching both his caregivers’ hoodies. Jeongin reached out, wiping away the endless stream of tears: “It’s ok, you’re ok, princess. You did so well. I know it’s scary but it’ll be over soon. Appa promises.” The maknae switched from rubbing Hyunjin’s back to giving it some firm pats, making the little burp repeatedly before a small trickle of bile passively spilled from his lips.

“Seems like most of the milk is out”, Jisung hummed, “Sweetie, how does your tummy feel now?” Hyunjin shrugged, pointing at his throat rasping: “Ouchie.” – “I know it stung a bit, but your tummy will be better soon and then your throat will also be okay”, the rapper promised. Jeongin went to the bathroom to clean out the bucket before setting it down next to the couch just in case. He had also gotten the little’s sippy cup filled with water. “Here princess, have some water to get rid of the taste and to help your throat”, the vocalist requested, touching the sippy against the dancer’s chapped and swollen lips, “That’s it. Do you think you can take some medicine now?” Hyunjin pulled away from the sippy and nodded, allowing Jeongin to feed him two of the pills, before latching onto the sippy again to wash them down. Having finished all of his water, the little cuddled back into Jisung’s chest, who shifted them into a flat position. The maknae then joined the pair on the couch, spooning the little from behind and gently rubbing circles on his sore middle. By the time the rest of the group returned home, the trio was asleep.

@marymjwatson

Time couldn’t really be measured anymore. Not how Peter wanted to measure it, not how he remembered measuring it-- and definitely not with an eight year gap separating him from everyone around him. For most of his life, Peter believed that time was relatively easy to understand, even with the theories about how it could be bent or messed with. It was fun to imagine what it would be like to go back in time or jump ahead, to let your mind wander in hypotheticals. But hypotheticals became all too real when you were a superhero. And after barely a year of living with his abilities, Peter learned that lesson the hard way.

Suddenly there was a 15 year old kid mixed up in twisted realities, alien invasions, and end of the world scenarios. Peter was face to face with the things he dreamed up when he was a kid-- men flying around in suits of metal, giant green monsters, gods come to life, spies with all their secrets, century old super soldiers, and mutants who held reality in the palm of their hand. Anything was possible. And when they all reached the end of the world, Peter wasn’t ready to believe it. Not for real.

But he had to believe it. He had to believe that he aged 8 years overnight-- that he felt like mix matched pieces of a puzzle that had been glued together in the wrong order, and that he didn’t feel right in his own skin. The world didn’t feel real. Time didn’t feel real. He didn’t even feel real. But he remembered: anything was possible.

Everyday that Peter existed on Battleworld, he learned more about the life he had lived while the real him floated in stasis. At first it was all shock and awe at the people he found and the things that had changed-- bursts of emotion that caught him off guard every single time. But now he was trying to focus on the details in a desperate attempt to mature almost a decade in the span of a few days. What was inside his head didn’t match what people saw on the outside, and he didn’t want to let anyone down. Or freak anyone out. Or seem stupid or small or weak-- everything that 15 year old him was.

People were on to him-- which in one way, wasn’t the worst thing in the world. If they were going to get anywhere, they needed people to believe that they didn’t belong here. But Peter was still terrified that something would go horribly wrong along the way.

One thing that Peter couldn’t risk was losing Mary Jane. Fake reality or not, he knew he couldn’t screw that up. He would never forgive himself if he did. He could tell that she knew something was off with him-- which wasn’t surprising. You spend eight years with someone, get used to them and their little habits and routines only to have them suddenly regress back to their high school mentality-- you’re bound to notice. MJ had grown up and just gotten more beautiful and more wonderful, even with the virus she had been infected with. If Peter were to be honest, he really had no clue why she stayed with him for eight years. She could be with anyone she wanted, and she chose him. Damn right he was lucky.

And it appeared that 24 year old Peter still knew that as well. One day while he was snooping around their room ( yes, their room-- living together meant that they shared a room and a bed, which he was still getting used to on nights when he could actually sleep ) he found a small cardboard box tucked away between a pile of folded clothes in the corner of the closet. They looked to be older clothes-- stuff he wore when he was younger and still fit, but weren’t what he used as often. A pretty good hiding spot, all considered. Apparently he was still bad at that after all these years.

Upon his discovery, Peter traveled to the bed and sat himself down with the box in his lap. He lifted the lid off without hesitation and found two smaller boxes inside. Jewelry boxes, actually. But that small detail didn’t click right away, and when he flipped open the lid of one of them he was.. surprised.

That was a really pretty ring. Like, really pretty. With a stone in the middle and everything. It kinda looked like a wedding ring. But why would he have a wedding ring tucked away----

Nope. Not a wedding ring. An engagement ring. Older-Peter had engagement rings tucked away-- and this one was MJ’s.

Holy shit.

Peter forgot how to breathe for a second. And he was panicking. And he was freaking out, and his hands were shaking and quickly he closed the ring box to stuff it back into the box he found it in, setting it off to the side. Older-Peter had planned on asking Mary Jane to marry him. 

To him, it had been only been months since they said “I love you” for the first time. Only a few months more since they kissed the first time. Yes, Peter loved her. But he was 15-- wait, 16 now? He was supposed to be a junior in high school and still hadn’t fully gotten through puberty. Marriage was about the last thing on his mind-- no, scratch that. Marriage wasn’t on his mind at all. But eight years is a long time to be with someone. He shouldn’t have been surprised that his older self wanted to marry her. But this was way too complicated.

So. Older Peter probably knew what he was doing. They were already living together, right? They talked about it already? Was MJ just sitting around waiting for him to ask? Maybe that was one more thing that made him seem off-- because he hadn’t proposed yet. Oh my god-- oh my god he needed to propose to her. Right? Right.

Peter figured he could plan it all in a day. Give himself a day, that seems fair right? Doing it right then, having just found the rings, would have been disastrous. They didn’t need that. And proposals aren’t supposed to be big, right? Well some end up on YouTube and get millions of views and draw big crowds so maybe they are supposed to be big.

No, no MJ wouldn’t want it to be big. Not like that. Not when it’s just supposed to be for the two of them. Peter could at least tell himself he was right about that-- he knew her well enough to figure that out. He hoped.

When Mary Jane got home that night Peter asked her if they could meet for lunch the next day-- there was a small park nearby that was usually not too busy, and was pretty enough. He asked if they could meet there, 1:00 pm he said, but he told her not to stress if she wasn’t feeling well enough to go ( maybe he wouldn’t even feel well enough to go ). That was step one. Was he even doing this right? Maybe he could ask May for some advice ( while simultaneously trying not to sound like a lost little boy talking about his crush ).

When he asked her for help he kept it vague, not really saying what he was up to or why he wanted to dress up a bit but now at least he knew he didn’t look like a hot mess on the outside when he felt like it on the inside. They had gone through his wardrobe ( which now consisted of more than just Uncle Ben’s nicer clothes that May hadn’t gotten rid of ) and Peter was now anxiously heading towards the meeting site sporting something that May called ‘classy’: black dress pants and shoes, a white dress shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows, and a navy blue skinny tie. He had to admire himself in the mirror for a few minutes before he left, but then he didn’t want to be late.

The rings were in the left pocket of his pants ( should he have brought both or just hers? if she said no then this was going to be really weird ) and had a large bouquet of flowers that he carried with both hands. Miraculously, he managed to arrive a few minutes early. There was a bench nearby that he could have relaxed on while he waited, but Peter wasn’t exactly relaxed. He was anxious. Panicking. Again. But what else was new?

It was a beautiful day for this. But he suddenly felt as if his entire body was going to cave in on itself as he waited and paced back and forth behind the bench. There was a huge chance he was going to screw this up royally-- he was only 16 for goodness sake. Well, he felt 16. And he was not prepared, but if this is where their relationship was supposed to go then it needed to happen. Can’t screw things up with them if this is really where they were going to live for the rest of their lives. And he did love her. 

Yeah, he needed to do this.

Deep breaths, Parker. Deep breaths.

Donald Trump vs. Herbert Hoover vs. Back to The Future Part III

Okay, he’s the worst ever. President Trump is the worst President we’ve ever had, in my lifetime at least. To find a President that could even compete with Trump for the title of worst President ever, you’d have to get in a time-traveling Delorean and go back about a century. But I wouldn’t recommend you do that, some say that time-traveling in a car powered by a flux capacitor can possibly lead to Parkinson’s disease, especially if you do it for three movies. But the evidence for that is...shaky. Hey, why did those ‘Back To The Future’ films successively get so much worse? Couldn’t producer Robert Zemeckis just get in the Delorean and go forward in time to read the godawful reviews? If only Biff Tannen had stolen a movie guide instead of a sports almanac, he could have saved Universal Studios the 40 million dollars it spent making ‘Back To The Future Part III’. Wow, what a disaster! You know, I recently saw an ad for some network TV show where a team of intrepid multi-culti adventurers go back in time to save the Hindenburg from exploding, but I think ‘Back To The Future III’ may have been the bigger disaster. Yes, the Hindenburg was terrible, sure, but it all happened pretty quick. Whereas ‘Back To The Future III’ has a running time of two hours! Two hours of watching Teen Wolf and the stoner from Taxi yuk it up in the old West. “Oh, the inanity!”

You probably don’t even remember the movie. That's understandable, it’s a normal human response to block out cinematic traumas like that. To access those repressed bad-movie memories you’d need years of psychotherapy and hypnotic regression. Or basic cable. First of all, who would take a time machine and go back to the Old West? Nobody in their right mind, that’s who. Not even Dr. Who. It was about as bad a place and time as there was. All you could get in the Old West was syphilis or a gunshot wound. The Old West was even worse than Kanye West, he’d probably only give you one of those things.

If you could time travel to the far off future, why would you go back and watch a prospector fall down an abandoned mineshaft? You can watch Leonardo da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa, or you could go watch two drunk cowboys shoot each other for cheating at cards. Actually, that still happens quite often. No time travel necessary, just a bus ticket to Reno.

That’s why I don’t get this Westworld. That’s the place you want to re-create and populate with robots? I could think of dozens of better robot theme parks. Here’s one, how about Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion circa 1974? Hanging out with James Caan, a metric ton of cocaine, and every aspiring centerfold on the west coast sounds like a lot more fun than sitting in the middle of a train robbery shoot-out. Where am I, Chicago? But that’s just me, I guess.  Want another great robot idea? How about a robot theme park of the cast of Seinfeld. That would be awesome! I would so go, we’d all go! And they’d all be there, not just Jerry, George, Kramer, and Elaine, but everybody. Mr. Pitt. Tim Watley. Jackie Chiles, Lloyd Braun, Kenny Bania, and of course, Uncle Leo. The bubble boy and Izzy Mandelbaum. “Mandelbaum! Mandelbaum!” Let me know when they build it and I will date the robot Sue Ellen Mischke, the bra-less woman who caused a car accident. She may not be real, but they’re spectacular! Serenity now!

But I digress.

As I was saying, no one would time travel to the Old West.

If somebody actually had a time machine, the conversation would go something like this: “Hey, I have this time machine, and it’s all gassed up with bananas peels and deadly radiation or whatever the hell it runs on, where do you think we should go?”

“We can go anywhere in time? How about we check out a Jimi Hendrix concert! Let’s go see Jimi’s legendary set at Woodstock! Or the Fillmore East, 1970, that’s maybe his best concert ever! C’mon! Hendrix!! Either that or maybe we go back in time and check out Jesus! I’d be cool with that, too, either Jesus or Jimi Hendrix! Which one do you want to go see?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’m worthy to be in the presence of God. So let’s go see Jesus.”

The amazing things you could see with a time machine would blow your mind. You could go see the Great Pyramids of Giza when they were brand new, and still under warrantee. Back when they still had that new Pyramid smell. The Pyramids don’t smell so good today, now the place really Sphynx. That joke never gets old, right? Don’t Tut-Tut me. It’s like they say, mo’ mummy mo’ problems.

You could go back and see who built Stonehenge...the Druids? The Picts? Or was Stonehenge a natural formation, like the face on Mars, and Mount Rushmore.

You could go back in time to see the dinosaurs just before the comet hit, and watch them climb into their dinosaur space-ships and fly off to populate other worlds. The dinosaurs that stayed behind were either wiped out or forced to live underground, until they were discovered by Marshall, Will, and Holly on Saturday mornings in the Land of The Lost.

The spacefaring dinosaurs, over millions of years, eventually became the Gorn, a very tough race of outer-space reptilians. But they got their lizard asses kicked in about 40 minutes by Captain James Tiberius Kirk, and single-handedly. You can say what you want about William Shatner being a complete diva and an asshole to work with, but the man kicked ass and saved the galaxy about a hundred times, and he did it all without a raccoon. As far as I’m concerned, Captain Kirk earned the right to cut scenes from the other cast members just to pad his own lines. Live long and fuck ‘em.

But I digress. I really, really digressed.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, this damn Back to The Future III, it’s kind of haunting me, how bad this movie is. It’s a shame the time-travelers from that TV show couldn’t go back in time and save the time-traveler’s movie franchise. And what is it with time-travel being so popular on television all of a sudden? When did that happen? On TV right now, there is the time-travel show I was talking about, NBC’s Travelers. Also, Fox has Making History, Hulu has 11.22.63, The CW has Legends of Tomorrow, Syfy has 12 Monkeys, and Comedy Central has Time Traveling Bong. And I already mentioned BBC’s Dr. Who. That’s a whole lot of time travel goin’ on! There’s no way there’s enough time in the day for a person to watch all these time-travel shows, you’d actually need to use a time machine to see them all. Or a DVR, I guess.

But I digress. Stop me before I digress again. I think this blog is about politics.

Oh yeah, Donald Trump is the worst President ever.

To find another President as bad as Trump, you’d have to go back at least as far Hoover. Herbert Hoover, that is, not J. Edgar Hoover. It’s easy to confuse the two of them, the Hoovers. But where Herbert Hoover liked to address the public, J. Edgar liked to wear a dress in public. And where Herbert Hoover’s dam looked good, J. Edgar looked damn good. But much like the Hoover vacuum cleaner of that era, both of these guys completely sucked.

Was Herbert Hoover worse than Trump? Let’s compare the two men:

Herbert Hoover was orphaned at an early age. He worked hard to found his own business and became a multi-millionaire. Donald Trump? He was born with a silver spoon up his ass and inherited his multi-millionaire dad’s real estate business. He then went on to bankrupt casinos, screw over independent contractors, and force people to humiliate themselves for jobs on national TV. Oh, and he’s good at firing beauty pageant winners if they gain a few pounds, then ridiculing them in the press. Hmm. it’s close, but I think I gotta give round 1 to Hoover.

Herbert Hoover was Stanford-educated, he was an engineer. But Trump must be smarter, after all, he had his own Trump University! And if it was a phony university like the fake news says, tell me how come all those students went on to earn millions of dollars? Oh, that’s right, it was a 25 million dollar class-action lawsuit settlement he paid out to avoid having his orange ass dragged into court. Round 2, Hoover.

Herbert Hoover built Hoover Dam, one of the greatest structural engineering feats in human history. But then again, Donald Trump built a huge pyramid scheme. So, I’d call this round a draw.

Before Herbert Hoover was President,  he was in charge of enormous, complex relief operations in Europe during and after World War I. He served two Presidents as Secretary of Commerce, under both Warren G. Harding and Calvin Coolidge. Before Donald Trump was President? He was in charge of enormous, complex challenges like making Lou Ferrigno and LaToya Jackson make bagels and peddle them on the streets of Manhattan. Trump’s biggest executive decisions were made sitting in a boardroom with Dee Snider, Meatloaf, Joan Rivers, Sinbad, and Dennis Rodman. Who, sadly enough, would make far better cabinet secretaries than the ones he actually chose. Seriously, who do you think has more experience dealing with North Korean ‘weebles-wobble-but-they-don’t-fall-down’ dictator Kim Jong Un: Rex Tillerson or Dennis Rodman? Think about that one. Here’s a hint: it’s the guy with 11,954 rebounds. Dennis Rodman is the only person Trump knows who has actually sat down with ‘Lil Kim’ Jong Un, and he fired him. Now I don’t think I would trust the Worm to handle the North Korea situation by himself, but if he had Jordan, Pippen, and the rest of the 1995 Chicago Bulls with him, we’d have an NBA franchise in Pyongyang by now. And war would have to wait at least through the playoffs. Round 4, Herbert Hoover.

I think we can stop right there. It’s a K.O. at the O.K. corral. Move over, Herbert Hoover, there’s a new worst President in town.

When Your Landlord Kicks You Out of Your House…

So we just had an exciting week!

After multiple confirmations over the months that we can continue to rent our house until the end of the school year, our landlords decided to kick us out anyways, despite how pregnant my wife is or the slew of promises that we had planned our life around.

And let me tell you – if you ever wondered how to piss off a pregnant lady, this is how to do it ;)

What changed? Their realtor said they have a better shot of selling it for more money if they list it in the Spring vs the Summer (we knew they wanted to sell, but only after we moved out in June), and hours later we got the boot without much room for negotiation whatsoever. And because we were on a month-to-month lease (oops), they had every legal right to do so.

Now ethics wise it’s a whole other story, and we’ll get to that in a bit, but the GOOD news is that we miraculously found a new place within days of looking – even with a slow rental market and it being in the middle of winter!! So crisis averted for now, but what a whirlwind of emotions, wow.

And I know you home owners right now are just shaking your heads thinking this is exactly why you own, haha…, and rightfully so, but it’s still not enough to get me to switch back quite yet ;) I’m just chalking it up to finally being my time to deal with some of the nastier sides of renting after years of bliss!

Anyways, here’s a look at some of the perks of our new place, just to keep things a bit positive up in here. And now that the chaos is over, I’m actually starting to get a bit excited about it!

We’re going from 1,100 sq ft to 2,500 sq ft (which is a welcomed change, not gonna lie… I thought I could do small-home living with a family of 4, but it’s a lot harder than it sounds! Haha… We got through okay, but I’ll be glad to have some extra space again…)

Has 4 bedrooms instead of 3 (maybe room for an office finally?)

3 bathrooms vs 1 (<– my wife’s favorite part)

Bigger backyard and play room (<– kid’s favorite part!)

Much more open and SUNNY! (<– cat’s favorite part ;))

Private driveway vs street parking

And then MY favorite part –> It’s right down the street from the school so I can WALK MY SON THERE every morning!! Which is something I’ve always wanted to do! We’ll have to move him out of his current school since we’re now gonna be in a new district (literally couldn’t find one house under $2,600 in his current district – crazy!) but it’s just as nice a school, and fortunately he’s great at meeting new friends…

So by and large we’re turning lemons into lemonade here, and will probably enjoy our new home even MORE once we’re settled and everything calms down… And it will be nice not having to deal with moving *after* the baby is born too. As for price, it’ll cost us about $100 more a month now ($2,300 vs $2,200) which is still ridiculous, but we did manage to negotiate it down by $100 which is something?

(A funny aside to that btw – I  had originally put down our *entire net worth* in our application thinking that it would showcase how solid we were, however after my wife scolded me for “showing them our cards” and wiping away all chances for a discount, I scaled it back by a good 80% and sure enough it did the trick :) First time I’ve ever had to lie in *that* direction to get something I wanted! Haha… And another win for stealth wealth too – BOOM.)

I still can’t wait to move back to my beloved Virginia though, but Mrs. BudgetsAreSexy promises this is our last year here in the DC area, so 16 more months to go and then it’s back to the promise land… The things you do for love (and career!).

House stuff aside though, I’d love to get your opinion on the *ethics* part of the equation here. And it’s something that affects so many different parts of our lives too, and is good to draw the line NOW before future situations arise and you accidentally choose the path that goes against your true values.

And the question I’d like to pose to you is this:

At what point do you choose what’s best for YOU vs what you’ve promised others? Or more specifically to this situation – when does the *money* outweigh your *integrity*? Or does integrity not even matter in such business deals?

Personally, I know myself well enough that I couldn’t ever screw ANYONE over even if I wanted to regardless of the financial benefits, because I’d just be too riddled with guilt! And that’s before even bringing a pregnant person into the picture, haha…

Now of course, if we’re talking about a lot of money here that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try to work *something* out to be more beneficial to everyone, because it certainly doesn’t have to be so cut and dry, but at the end of the day if it put my people in a $hitty situation I’d have to draw the line there and just suck it up.

Because after all, as the landlord *I* was the one who made the bad call earlier for not figuring out this stuff in the first place! These jokers had alllll the time in the world to research and consult with realtors, they didn’t have to wait until the last minute and put everyone in a tight spot?! We’re not mad because we have to move out, we’re mad because of the way it was handled and the fact they were suck dicks about it all. Which you know is bad if *I’m* the one calling someone that as I love everyone, haha…

So yeah – that’s where I stand, anyways. But of course I’m probably biased ;) What about you though? What would you have done if you were our landlords? Kicked us out because business is business, or shown a little compassion and at least tried to work something out for everyone?

On the flip side, how would you have handled it if you were US – the renters – getting the boot? Would you have fought back and challenged it, or just do your best to move on and make the best of a crappy situation? In the end of course that’s what we chose to do as we were glad to just be done with them once and for all (it wasn’t the first time we’ve had a bad experience with them), but curious to hear your thoughts and maybe even learn something today… Especially if you side with them on all this! :)

We’ll see how it plays out in the end, but hopefully it’ll be a blessing in disguise and we can look back at it later and just laugh at it all :)

Now time to get to packing and be thankful for all the decluttering we’ve done over the years, boy… The one nice thing about living in a smaller house is that it forces you to get rid of all the fluff! And we’ll now have to make sure we don’t regress and expand again moving into a place double the size too…

Thanks for listening and letting me vent a little today, guys… Always nice to have an outlet for that :)

XOXO

When Your Landlord Kicks You Out of Your House… posted first on http://lionelcapital.blogspot.com