omg Ike draping his prayer shawl over his boys at temple 🥺

seen from Poland
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seen from Brazil

seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia
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omg Ike draping his prayer shawl over his boys at temple 🥺
brighton beach
Character MBTI
Ike Evans - ENFJ
The Protagonist
ENFJs are idealist organizers, driven to implement their vision of what is best for humanity. They often act as catalysts for human growth because of their ability to see potential in other people and their charisma in persuading others to their ideas. They are focused on values and vision, and are passionate about the possibilities for people.
ENFJs are typically energetic and driven, and often have a lot on their plates. They are tuned into the needs of others and acutely aware of human suffering; however, they also tend to be optimistic and forward-thinking, intuitively seeing opportunity for improvement. The ENFJ is ambitious, but their ambition is not self-serving: rather, they feel personally responsible for making the world a better place.
Santiago Morales - ESFP
The Entertainer
ESFPs are vivacious entertainers who charm and engage those around them. They are spontaneous, energetic, and fun-loving, and take pleasure in the things around them: food, clothes, nature, animals, and especially people.
ESFPs are typically warm and talkative and have a contagious enthusiasm for life. They like to be in the middle of the action and the center of attention. They have a playful, open sense of humor, and like to draw out other people and help them have a good time.
Stevie buys one of these and mails it to his Dad thinking it's hilarious but he forgets to put his name or include a note so Ike has no idea wtf it means until Orson sees it and sighs 'oh our peculiar firstborn sent you one too'
convo [ post-dinner: the boys ]
“So that was it?” Danny looked hopeful, over the roof of the car. Stevie declined to answer for a moment, squinting at the vehicle.
“You’re gonna have to get a good family car now, bro,” Stevie said. “Can’t drive Dad’s old Impala around with a wife and a baby.” Danny just stared at him flatly, and eventually Stevie sighed, folding his arms against the roof.
“No,” Stevie said, “obviously it wasn’t. What I told them was true -- San did slip off before we ever sealed the deal past a kiss or two, when I had on all those other Alpha’s faces -- but there was one time he didn’t. One single time when he gave all the way in without a moment’s hesitation and got down on his knees for me and--”
“No, no, no no no no no,” Danny groaned, “oh, Stevie, don’t tell me you--”
Stevie nodded. “I used a shimmer to make me look like Dad.” He watched his brother reel away from the car, then come back. “It was a good thing!”
Danny looked utterly aghast. “A good thing?!?” he hissed. “You pretended to be our dad and fooled Santiago into going down on you without him knowing and it’s a good thing? Stevie, sometimes I really worry about you.”
“Aww, c’mon.” Stevie put one fist atop the car roof and stacked his other fist on it, repeating the gesture the other way around with a dreamy little sideways smile. “It was sweet, really. He had the dopiest lovestruck look in his eyes while he was down there and I mean, Danny, Dad’s a lucky guy, San’s got zero gag reflex--”
“Please don’t,” Danny pleaded.
“--anyhow, yeah. All he did was tell Dad -- well, me, but Dad -- how handsome he is, and how much in love they were, and a bunch of stuff I didn’t get so it was probably in-jokes, and it was nice. It was pretty.” Stevie started to get into the car, then stopped, hovering. “For a minute there, I kind of wished I had that sort of thing myself.” Danny looked at his brother, a little heart-struck for him. “I’m sure it’ll happen for you someday too, Stee,” he said, the old childhood nickname coming back. “I mean, if you want it, you could--”
But Stevie had already loaded himself into the passenger seat, shutting the door and rolling down window so he could stick his arm out and thump his fist against the roof. Sighing, Danny got in, flipping down the visor of the driver’s seat so he could kiss his fingers and then press them to the worn little picture there of Grandma Midge, who the boys had never met but whose photo guarded them since the moment their dad had given them the car.
“We shoulda taken the rest of the icebox cake,” Stevie mumbled, hunched down in his jacket, and Danny turned the engine.