#the holidays can be and often are both exhausting and joyful

[beesofwisdom]

:)

[loveemagicpeace]

Synastry 4th / 8th & 12th house 🫧

4th house gives the feeling that the person gives you a certain feeling of care and warmth. You can feel at home with this person and you can create a home together that is really close and beautiful to you. They can confide in each other many family secrets that they may not have shared with anyone before. The feeling that the person will always be there for you and give you the support you need. 4th house represents an environment in which you feel safe, secure, warm, comfortable. You can create a completely different home than you've ever had, but even when you share this synastry with someone, you can feel that you can live with that person. You see a home and a future with this person. Create your own space in which you both feel safe. It is also a very important house in relationships because it indicates how safe you feel with someone and how far you will go with that person. Can you see a life together with this person. Jupiter in this house indicates that your home can be very spiritual, happy, joyful, large and comfortable. You can move together somewhere that is further away from your home or to another country. You can spend a lot of holidays together and make a kind of routine of your own. There is a strong emotional attachment to this person, especially when you share a home for a long time, you feel as if this person knew all your feelings and needs. It's hard for you to find someone who will satisfy you in this way. Especially when it comes to emotional needs, you can get very used to a person. You feel like the other person won't give you something that this person has. Holding hands, wherever you are.

8th house gives feeling, emotionality, intensity, power, mystery. This house can be very strong at times and maybe too strong in big things. You can share the darkest secrets and things with this person. Sometimes you may have the feeling that the person knows too much about you or you are afraid of how open you are with this person and in what way. There is a very strong love that goes beyond all boundaries, it is very intense, obsessive and vulnerable. This house makes you very vulnerable to a person. You have the feeling that something is very scary but good at the same time. You can be very open emotionally. When you fight, you usually don't tell anyone or you don't want to talk about this relationship with others. You are very committed to this person from multiple perspectives. My opinion is that you have to be very emotionally strong for this house and ready to go outside your comfort zone when it comes to love. Scorpio energy can sometimes be emotionally exhausting for someone who is not ready to go deep and into the dark side of themselves and the dark side of life. You get to know yourself in a deeper perspective and in a more profound way. This love feels like all or nothing. It's like ripping out your heart and giving it to a person. Strong intimate attraction. To protect a person from everyone without thinking. Sex after an argument. To go aside but to come back. A strong fight that ends in deep intimacy. A constant love that leads to the depths of the ocean. Dark times that lead to a bright future. A love that blossoms in a dark period. To be there for each other when everyone leaves. Intense looks that lead to love. Jupiter in this house symbolizes that you can gain a lot from your partner and usually a marriage that is beneficial. Overall, you can feel a lot of benefit from each other. Venus in this house it symbolizes deep emotions, but it can often be more physical than psychological. Sexual attraction is strong, but sometimes it can make you forget other things. But it can symbolize intense jealousy and obsession with each other.

The 12th house makes you feel as if the person is your soulmate, you have finally found a part of yourself that you have been looking for for so long. This house, however, is more invisible, not conscious and alienated. Knowing what's going on with a person without them telling you. This house is one of the more vulnerable, because the person draws things out of you that you may not be ready to accept or see. It is deeply embedded in your subconscious. And the person feels or knows things that you don't or you are more protected about it. It can also be scary because the feelings can be very strong and sudden. Sometimes you don't even know why you feel the way you do and why you think the way you do. You can dream a lot about this self or about each other in general. There are many events that happen and are related to this person. You can intuitively feel what is happening and you can also help this person find the subconscious and things that are deeper. You can be someone who guides and heals that person. They can share a past life and therefore feel many things, which may be unusual and different. This connection is very special and spiritual, magical. In this connection, it is necessary to be very honest and open and to be ready to accept everything that comes up. It is also a connection that is hard to forget because you feel as if that person is always with you. It can give you the feeling that when you go through difficult times, that person is here for you like a kind of fairy who helps you. It's like you have someone who is with you in everything. This house has no ego, which means that you can give yourself completely to the person and sacrifice things that you wouldn't otherwise. That's why it can be annoying sometimes because you feel like you can give everything to a person without feeling ego. It's like jumping into the ocean without the fear of drowning. With this person, you feel like you can be exactly who you are, everything that you are not with others. Before this house, it is important that you are open with the person and open your soul. Don't be afraid to be naked in front of this person.

Moon in 12th house - shows that you are very emotionally and intuitively connected to the person. You can feel a person without being in contact with them. Many times things can happen that connect you intuitively and you can feel a connection that is very strong. Since the moon also shows emotional needs, it means that you can fulfill a person's many emotional needs. Together, they feel emotionally fulfilled, and not only on an external level, but also on an internal level. You can subconsciously fulfill each other. Caring for a person is subconscious, so sometimes you don't talk out loud about how you feel but you show it.

Moon conjuction Pluto- a very strong emotional bond and connection with that person. It is like a magnet and it feels like you are emotionally very firmly attached to this person. Emotions can sometimes be very strong and maybe even too much to understand or accept. Here you can be ready to accept deep emotions, because emotions can be very strong, sometimes such that they can really take you too deep.

Moon conjuction Mars- a very strong magnetic impulse that you have with this person. Sometimes it feels like they can't live without each other. It is difficult for you to stay away from this person, even if you wanted to, especially if they are in the same room. The sexual drive is very strong. At the same time, you can feel that the person fulfills you emotionally and fulfills your emotional needs. You may have a strong emotional instinct to protect this person. You can be willing to do a lot emotionally for this person.

Moon trine Sun-if the woman's moon trining men's sun, it is a good connection, because a woman can bring a man emotional care and a more softer side, a man can feel more vulnerable with a woman and warmer. A woman can feel more protected and safe around a man, and a man dominates a woman and can feel more dominant around her. This connection is very beautiful because it represents the long-term nature of the relationship and you can see the potential in the relationship. Together they can create a home where they are happy and feel safe and comfortable. The overall energy is very calm and pleasant.

Neptune trine Venus- you can feel that the relationship with the person is very dreamy and different. It can be built on a subconscious level and in a more magical and special way. Maybe a way you haven't experienced before. The relationship can feel like in a movie.

Neptune in 4th house-can bring a home that is completely different and special from any you have had with anyone else. Neptune can bring wishes that you and this person make come true and together you build the home you've always wanted to live in. It can also give you a unique way to spend time. They can also heal each other through the home. You can feel at peace with each other.

-Rebekah🫧🧸🧚🏼‍♀️

[rosesloveletters]

Merry Christmas, Erika🎁🎄

for @ajokeformur-ray

overall word count for this gift package: 6,965

Merry Christmas to my beloved sister🥹 I put together this collection of gifts to bring you a little holiday cheer. I hope these fics make you smile.

Per tradition, here is a handwritten note from me:

Second, I forced Wonka to write a letter too (just kidding, he was delighted!)

Next, I've written you four fics. Putting these together for you was such a pleasant and joyful experience and I hope that you enjoy them as much as I did while writing them. If there is anything that you don't like, I am more than happy to write you something else so please do not hesitate to ask! I love you so very much and I hope that these stories are just what you are needing ❤️

A Mother's Daughter // Erika & Mary Reilly (familial)

Summary: You are settling into a routine of waking at 3am to study and your Mama does everything she can to gently ease you into your days; Mary reminisces and reflects on the similarities she notices between herself and her daughter.

Word Count: 3,277

It was becoming difficult for Mary to tell the difference between herself and her daughter. 

It seemed to be mother’s dream and unattainable desire for her daughter to be a direct reflection of herself, yet Mary was beginning to wonder whether that was something she wanted. 

That was not to say that she wanted nothing in common with her daughter; it was her greatest honor to witness a plethora of similarities between herself and her child, however, the reason she worked as hard as she did was to provide her daughter with an even better life than she had. 

You possessed all the best qualities of all three of your parents and even though your Father might have argued against those qualities you inherited from your Papa, both Mary Reilly and Henry Jekyll knew that you would not have even been half the miraculous woman you had grown into if it were not for your Papa’s involvement and subsequent contribution. 

Even though they each had initial reservations, they reconciled that it was meant to be. 

You were who you were because of all three of them and you would grow up to be an intelligent, fiercely independent, determined and hard-working woman because that was what they had instilled in you from childhood. 

You were as much a part of them as they were of you. 

You had inherited much more from your mother than just her hair and Mary could attest to that. 

On this cold, December morning were you already out of bed and seated in your Father’s study as you bent over your books and took notes on today’s coursework. 

While you read, Mary gently combed through the length of fine, brown hair that hung down your back. 

She admired it as she combed, unable to take her eyes off you. 

It was the same as every morning, though now instead of caring for your hair before you left for your full day of work inside your Father’s study, she would follow and take care of you there so as not to keep you from your studies any longer than necessary. She could afford you this kindness because, after all, she was your mother. She would have given her life for you if it were necessary; she was more than willing to sacrifice a bit more time in her warm bed before braving the day and the frigid, wintry air that waited to greet her. 

Mary had brought you coffee the same as she always did when you awoke before sunrise. 

These days, you were crawling out of bed even earlier than she was and that concerned her. You needed your sleep if you were to study as hard as your Father did. He was perhaps not the best example, as he often neglected his physical health in favor of his studies and Mary had watched the deterioration and ill-effects that had had on him. She cared for you as much, if not more, than she did for him and she could not bear the thought of you unintentionally causing your own suffering, martyring yourself for the sake of work, the same way that he had done. 

She noticed how exhaustion clung to you. 

Dark circles had formed permanently under your eyes which used to be bright under the right circumstances, only now were they bloodshot due to the countless hours you spent immersed within your textbooks. 

Your eyes always darkened a shade or two during the winter, but Mary knew it wasn’t just that. 

You were tired even if you wouldn’t voice it, but a mother always knew the truth.

She was proud of you, nonetheless, even despite her concern. 

You made her proud even without trying because you were her child. When she had given birth to you, she felt her world become that much smaller. The stars in her skies were now contained in your eyes and her gravitational pull shifted; her center of orbit revolved around you. She loved you with a fierceness that only a mother could and no amount of attempts would ever be enough to put that kind of love into words. She wanted to save you from the world, but also from herself because as she could see you growing up, she could also see you growing towards her. 

She didn’t not want you to follow in her footsteps; it was difficult to explain how she felt that she had to protect you from becoming her. 

Every mother wants a life for their child that was better than their own. 

Mary defined herself as no different, because she too wanted you to have a far better life than she had. 

If it were up to her, you would have that life without sacrificing yourself and your mental and physical well-being to attain it. 

A concerned frown creased her features as she lost herself in thought while tenderly picking apart a decently sized knot in your hair. Her fingers were gentle as she worked diligently to save your hair from any breakage; she never hurt you when she did your hair and you rarely felt a single uncomfortable maneuver or tug from her steady hands. She soon had the knot untangled and she gently combed through to release the rest of the tangles. 

You never looked up from your reading, eyes scanning the texts on each page as you forced more knowledge into your brain before the sun had even risen. While most everyone else inside the house was still fast asleep, you were ready to learn. You enjoyed these early mornings because of the quiet and how much easier it was on you to study after you were freshly rested. You knew in the back of your mind that you had your parents worried about you, but you also knew you had to do this. 

Every part of you was screaming how much you wanted this. You were on a quest to achieve your dreams and you were not going to stand in your own way of them. 

Mary only hoped you would give yourself far more credit for how far you had come. 

She had watched as you had risen from the depths, dusted yourself off and started fresh as you forged on, headed for greater things. She saw you experience far too much and from the very beginning had she cringed at some of the horrors life had dealt you. You had not deserved the things that had made you suffer and if she could have lifted those burdens from your shoulders and made them her own, she would have done so in a heartbeat and never looked back. She would not have regretted her decision to save you, to take your pain as her own. 

You were her everything and she would have sacrificed all she had, for you. 

You knew not what your Mama truly thought; her silence was deafening, but not because it was steeped in judgement or disappointment. It was difficult for her to begin to open up to anyone, even you, because she spent her life in the present. She did not hold onto the past, but she did her best to learn from what she had been through. Her experiences had shaped her as much as anyone but she knew for certain that there was no sense in dwelling on things she could not change and, therefore, she clung to what she had now as consolation for all injustices she had suffered throughout her life. 

You were the better part of her, she believed, not because you had nothing to overcome, but because you were much stronger than she ever was. Perhaps that was because of your Papa’s influence, but in Mary’s mind, it was because that was just simply who you were bound and determined to be. 

You were so much like her, after all, but to her, you were better. 

She had grown with you while you became better and better versions of yourself and took on more than anyone your age should have ever needed to. 

You never had to do it alone – she, your Father and your Papa all made certain of that. They all loved you, more than you would ever know, and they were all equally proud of the woman they had raised. 

Mary soon traded your comb for your favorite brush and began to draw the brush carefully yet deliberately through your long, chestnut tresses. Your hair cascaded down your back like a waterfall of chocolate (I’m not sorry for that reference) and drew her eyes towards the ends which were still bleached several shades lighter from the summer sunshine. Her fingers slid through your hair like a knife through butter; its silkiness was of likeness to hers, but the texture and color were all your Papa’s. 

Mary smiled wistfully at that thought, wondering how your Papa had felt seeing so much of himself in you. 

She supposed that your Papa would be proud to have been at the forefront of your conception and to have seen his most striking traits be passed on to you. She was aware of how strong your connection to him was and even though it would have been odd for her to say aloud, she was pleased at that, which was perhaps why she kept it to herself. 

Your Papa had been through so much and had sacrificed almost as much as Mary had. He was noble and honest and gave up what little he had to begin with to do what he thought was right. That sentiment made your hands shake and the lump that always formed in your throat when you thought about it too much was good company for when you needed to feel something real and there was nothing to grab onto. 

Those times were infrequent now, though once, they had been as often as the sun rising and setting each day. You were arriving at a time in your life that you had always dreamed of, but now that it was slowly becoming a reality, you were afraid to take the leap to get to the other side. It’s always terrifying to take that first step, to know that you didn’t knowwhat awaited you, but you had made it this far and had overcome every obstacle in your way and Mary wanted you to see that and to acknowledge and know that you were capable of so much more than you believed you were. 

Some days it seemed as though your dreams were unattainable and each day had you considered giving up, but just like your parents were you determined to do and to be your best and you knew as well as they knew that you would never, ever give up. 

Though like any mother, Mary did worry. 

She had her fears the same as anyone else, but it felt impossible for her to say it in words. To put it out into the universe was to deem it a reality and Mary was a careful person; she would choose to speak her mind at times when it was deeply necessary, but she had reason to believe that if she did so more frequently, she might save herself from the heartbreak of having left too much unsaid. 

She would not make the same mistakes with you that she had almost made with your Father. 

Almost, because your Papa wouldn’t let that happen. 

Edward Hyde spoke his mind when no one else wanted him to or would even listen. 

He said what your Father and Mama tiptoed around. 

He set it all into motion and, if you wanted – which you most certainly did – you could and would say that your existence was because of him. 

Mary had known all of this to be true from the very start and it lightened her heart a little to know you had so much support from all sides. You were thoroughly loved and cared for and each of them provided things to you that no one else could. 

You were your parents, but this thought did not make you cringe. You strove to make them proud from the very moment you woke up each morning until you laid your head upon your pillow to fall asleep for the night. How much you worried that they might be disappointed in you or lecture you seemed almost insignificant during mornings like this when all was quiet, even your mind. 

You understood why your Mama loved the morning so much and why she defended what little personal time she had. The morning was when you felt the most like yourself or, at least, the version of yourself you wanted to be all the time.

To always feel ready to take on what life threw at you was empowering and even though you were tired, you were doing what you loved and that was what was most important, now and always. 

Mary finished brushing your hair and had begun to braid it the way you liked. 

Her delicate fingers wove each strand into loose braids, taking care not to snag any pieces beneath her short fingernails. She secured each end in black, silk ties and handed them to you over your shoulders for you to touch and hold for a bit of comfort. She smiled to herself as she watched you take each braid and feel it, enjoying the way your hair slipped easily between your fingers. You were proud of yourself for how well you cared for it and for devoting the time to grow it and maintain it throughout the five years you had been letting it grow long. 

The length it was now was once merely a dream, but some dreams have the possibility of becoming a reality and this was just one example. You had so many more dreams you were chasing after and so many more you had yet to achieve, but you would. Even when you thought it an impossibility, Mary knew how capable you were and she knew, deep in her heart, that there was very little you couldn’t do and so much more that you could. 

“All done,” she whispered as you took a break from the books to thank her for taking care of you once again, “would you like some more coffee?”

She did not even need to ask. 

You nodded, never one to turn down coffee when it was offered. 

“Of course,” you replied to her, “thank you, Mama.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” 

A simple exchange yet filled with so much love and care.

You were as devoted to your family as you were to your studies; your parents took good care of you and, in turn, you took care of them by being the best daughter they could have ever asked for. Though no amount of work was what made you worthy of that title. You earned it simply by existing, for you were deserving of love as much as anyone else and you had parents who gave it wholeheartedly; their love for you would never be left unsaid. 

As Mary left the room to prepare you another mug of coffee, she now reflected on how different you and she truly were. 

The difference between you and Mary was that she remained where she was because of her mother. 

She had become a chambermaid after her mother put her into the service to protect her from further abuse and for that was she eternally grateful to have been given an opportunity for a better life.

You, on the other hand, were following a path not unlike your Father. That might have frightened you in the past, as there were things about your Father which made you a bit nervous, but now were you content to share a connection with the man who had helped give you life. 

Your relationship with him felt strained now and then, like a dance between two people who followed different rhythms, yet now were things different in part because of your studies but also because you had begun to accept his faults instead of blaming him for making mistakes when he was only doing what he thought was right. 

Working alongside him had given you perspective. You learned how difficult his line of work truly was and you were not even studying the same thing. Nothing in life was easy, but it could be done with the right people there to support you and you were learning as much about life as you were about psychology. 

The human mind fascinated you and the least you could do was give yours a break.

You had once said it yourself: ‘the key to me continuing to keep myself together is to not look my stress in the eye.’

You were aware of how stressed you were, but ultimately, you had not the energy or the time to piece yourself back together. You were set on achieving your goals and unfortunately that meant making certain sacrifices, even though your dreams felt further and further away by the day. 

You would soothe your soul when you could, but for now, you had more and more steps to take and, luckily for you, you had inherited your Papa’s stubbornness and your Father’s ambition and drive. For now, you had to look the other way because your stress was bigger than you and there simply was no time to quell it.  

You were trying your best and for that would you always, always be worthy of everything and more. You did not have to earn your existence; you were worthy of your life simply because you had been given the chance to live it and your parents would see to it that you remembered that. 

Mary went down to the kitchen with the intention of preparing your coffee for you. She would bring it to you so that you would not have to pry your eyes away from your textbooks for even a moment. She knew how determined you were to achieve this dream and she was waiting on the sidelines, cheering you on as much as she could. She wanted this for you perhaps more than you wanted it for yourself because this was your dream. You wanted this career and she saw how much of yourself you had given to get it. Though she wished you did not have to give anything up for what you wanted, she understood and would support you in anything. You had it in you to do this, whether you thought so or not. 

She did, however, want you to put yourself first. 

She loved you for you and would continue to support and encourage you to chase your dreams and take what you wanted in life.  

In life, you only had one chance to get it right and it was daunting, but you were fearless in your tenacity and your spirits were buoyed by the love provided by your parents. 

You and your Mama were one in the same because your mornings were your own, though each of you spent them in very different ways. 

You saw each other, you loved each other and you encouraged each other to reach for the stars and go after the very different dreams you both desired.

For you: a thriving career to support you and a space you could call your own. 

For her: a simple, quiet existence with your Father and your Papa as well as your safety, security and success. 

She was so proud of you and she loved you, for all that you had been, were and would be. 

Step, Step, Step // Erika x Arthur Fleck (romantic) // Joker (2019)

Summary: You have recently been discharged from therapy and suddenly your fear that your lifestyle would not be conducive to Arthur's seems a lot less plausible. // You finally open up to Arthur and he gives you reassurance when your negative thoughts try to weigh you down.

Word Count: 2,112

Before you had been discharged from therapy, you often felt that your worries had worries.

You were a ball of anxiety, riddled with stress and tinged with the fringes of depression, but you did not have the time necessary to devote to your mental health and, besides, the lifestyle you led would not have been conducive to your beloved’s…or would it?

That was what you told yourself and perhaps for a long time that was what was holding you back. Ironic, it seemed, that it was this very thing which you grabbed onto to force yourself to take steps towards feeling well again. 

Arthur had been where you found yourself now and he knew what you were going through. If anyone could have helped to guide you through this, it was him.

You had been asked to keep a journal, just like he was. You met with a therapist (although yours were online sessions) and, slowly yet with deliberate, steady progress, were you able to climb to the top of this mountain and see to the other side. 

The sun shone more brightly here and you felt brave enough to begin the downward descent towards simple living and thriving in the life you had chosen for yourself. With this seemingly insurmountable mound of stress no longer standing in your way, you could use the lessons you had learned in therapy and apply them to your life as you lived it. Mending one’s mind and cultivating a more positive existence was a daily journey and your healing was not linear.

However, you now had a baseline and you would know when you needed to stop and take a breath. 

Our minds are complex places and it takes a vast amount of loving care to attend to our own needs. 

You were learning to do your best for yourself and it made Arthur and all your loved ones so incredibly proud. 

“As silly as it sounds,” you said to Arthur one day, “I was afraid that our lives wouldn’t mesh.”

Arthur let your words steep like the tea bag in his cup as he swirled the hot liquid once or twice to disperse the flavor, “what do you mean?”

His innocent response made your heart swell and you almost didn’t want to tell him your thoughts because of how it might make him feel, “I don’t know…” you began as though you were stalling, but his gentle gaze on you prompted the words that didn’t seem to want to come and suddenly were you finally, finally spilling your guts to him, “when I’m waking up to study, you’re sleeping and I never want to wake you.”

You were aware of his struggles with insomnia and how precious sleep was to him because of that. 

Arthur heard every word that you said and didn’t say, his gentle eyes still on you as you spoke more.

“Then, in the evenings when I’m getting off work, am exhausted and ready for bed, you’re still awake and will be for several more hours. I suppose I was just feeling that…we wouldn’t find our routine or…that I would disturb you, somehow.”

“How do you think you would disturb me?” he posed a genuine question, but his eyes were filled with mirth as though he saw it as some kind of joke. 

You might have been offended had you not known him as well as you did, but he thought it was silly only because it was not true; you never could have disturbed him if you tried.

Your lifestyles were different, but that was not a bad thing. No two people could ever be the same, nor would their routines always line up perfectly. It was only when those two people compromised to find middle ground and made sacrifices that they were both comfortable with that they could maintain a healthy, balanced and loving relationship. 

You and Arthur both knew what steps you had to take and both of you were more than willing to take those steps side by side. He never would have made fun of you (god forbid he caught wind of anyone ever doing that) – he only wished that you could see that these irrational thoughts were not the reality and your lives were more than just conducive to each other; you and he were meant to be together.  

“I know that not every thought that I have is a rational one,” you explained to him, “but it was still a valid fear until I proved to myself that it was only my negative thoughts trying to scare me… and I have taken control of those and learned the proper means of dealing with them.”

Arthur nodded along as he listened to you and it was true. He had seen an improvement in your mental health since you had been discharged from therapy and he was honored to have come with you on this important journey. You were learning about yourself and were not going to let your negative thoughts take control of you the way they might have done in the past. You had the necessary tools to combat them and, if all else failed, then you could talk to Arthur. 

You could always come to him and he would set the record straight. 

Communication was the most important part of any relationship, romantic or platonic, and yours and Arthur’s ability to communicate effectively was one of the reasons your relationship had remained so strong throughout the years. You talked to him whenever you felt afraid or anxious or stressed and he knew exactly how to handle it. He had been on his own for a long time and had to dig himself out of many troubles, so he knew how to best handle most any situation thrown at him.  

He was proud of you for telling him this now, even if you didn’t still believe it. He understood how difficult it was to let anyone in on your most private concerns or fears and he wanted you to know that he would always listen and take to heart everything you said, while also helping you to put it into perspective and gently show you the reality. 

“You’re right,” came the gentle reply from him, “it isn’t true…that we don’t mesh, as you put it. I haven’t ever meshed this well with anyone before. You’re the first.”

Something clicked within you at that revelation. 

The life that Arthur had dreamed of since he was a boy was finally his and it was all thanks to you. 

You were his person, the woman whom he loved with all his heart. You were the connection he longed for yet never thought he would be lucky enough to have. He had cultivated this little domestic life which he shared with you and he looked forward to starting each and every day with you regardless of your different lifestyles.

That very lifestyle which you were so concerned about getting in the way of you and Arthur did not concern him because all he could think about was the woman who was living it, not the lifestyle itself. 

It was not about the very different lives you lived, but the people who were living them. 

He finally was living the life of his dreams and he hoped that you were, too. 

In fact, he knew that you were without you having to tell him. He knew all about you just from a single glance and that was everything. 

Your lives were conducive to each other’s because you were meant to live them together, side by side. If getting yourself through the day meant spending your nights nestled in beside him whilst watching old movie reruns on the television or slow dancing to gentle tunes crooned to just your ears and his through the vintage record player in the corner of the room then you could handle anything the world decided to dish out to you. Whether it was unfair, unjust or just plain mean, you had Arthur beside you and there was nothing you could not handle as long as he was there with you. 

You and he had moved to the couch after he finished making his tea. You had a mug of coffee in your hands, as you were known for, and you sipped casually as you settled in beside him. He draped a knitted blanket over your laps and his arm fit snugly around your shoulders as you leaned into him. Moments like this one were rare, but on occasion did you both have the very rare and elusive day off where you could spend it just in each other’s company.

And that was exactly what you did. 

You and Arthur stayed in that position for some time, letting silence settle all around you. Neither of you needed to talk to fill the empty spaces between you because there weren’t truthfully any empty spaces. Gaps in conversation, perhaps, but nothing ever felt ‘empty’ to the two of you, not when your hearts were so full of each other. 

You had not known how to tell him that you were grateful for the chance to be his person. That you would have died for him even if he didn’t ask. There was not much he could ask for that you would not give, however, you declined to comment on whether you’d give up your coffee for him (all in good fun, Arthur knew never to come between you and your coffee.)

Even without words, he still knew, and he knew that he was as much your ‘person’ as you were his. 

You see, your lives were meant to be lived together and Arthur did everything within his power to show you. It might have been hard to have proper time together because your lifestyles were different and the days demanded different things from each of you, but that did not mean that you could or should not remain together. The most you could do on any given day for each other was to try and, for you or Arthur, that was more than enough for you both to return to each other every single day. 

You kept moving because he put a spring in your step. 

You kept reaching for your dreams because he put you on his shoulders so you could reach.

You kept breathing because he was your oxygen. 

As much as he was your ‘person’, he also was so much more. 

It did not need to be put into words because you could listen to the sounds of love that reverberated through each of your hearts and reached the other through the connection you shared and the bond you had developed over the last four years. The red string of fate tied the two of you together and not even a pair of sharp scissors could cut through it. You were meant for him and him for you and there was nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. 

It pleased you, because heaven help anyone who tried to come between you and your man. 

As long as Arthur was there to remind you of this and of the truth that you and he were meant for each other, no matter where your individual lives took you, then you felt that much more confident and certain of yourself when you took steps towards your future. You often had worries like this, even more so before your journey through therapy, but you were made better for it because you had him to remind you of the lessons you learned and you knew now that these worries were not meant to control you. 

You could feel these worries and wave to them as they passed by, but you would let them go as quickly as they would arrive. 

You were secure in yourself when you were beside Arthur. 

The fears which once plagued you could not reach you, here. 

You so often would say that you would make Arthur proud…one day. 

But he and I (yes, I’m inserting myself here because I agree with this too) would say to you that, no, you already make him proud simply because you exist. You are worthy and deserving of his pride; you did not have to earn it. 

‘One day’ is today.

So, even though you lived your life afraid of much, if you were with Arthur, you would continue to pursue your dreams and live your life with the strength you drew from his presence and his love. 

And he was proud of you, as am I, every step of the way.

Step, step, step…

An Honorary Munson // Erika x Eddie Munson (romantic) & Uncle Wayne (familial) // Stranger Things

Summary: Spending Christmas morning with Eddie Munson and Uncle Wayne makes you sentimental.

Word Count: 1,067

Your senses were enveloped by the coziness and comfort of the little trailer Eddie and his uncle shared and welcomed you into so often it was a wonder why you did not just move in with them. Neither of the Munsons would have minded since you were practically family. 

The smells of the season wafted through the air and into your nostrils: fresh-baked cookies which were slightly burnt around the edges because Eddie swore he set the timer correctly, but he’s never been able to get that damn oven to cook evenly – good thing he doesn’t try to bake too often, but when he does, he tries his best. Brewed coffee, because every time you stopped over Uncle Wayne brewed a fresh pot since he knew it was your favorite and would always do his best to accommodate his nephew’s girl. Artificial garland and a tree that the Munsons had reused for years; the branches are slightly musty from having been kept in storage for a year. 

Nothing could have seemed more perfect about Christmas morning in the trailer park when you were surrounded by love and a little family who cared more for each other than any outsiders might have ever guessed or even cared to know. 

You knew, however, and that was fine because you were one of them now. 

An honorary Munson, Eddie often referred to you as, whether in jest or not were you still uncertain. Although, there had been one time when he mentioned casually that perhaps, one day, you might wish to become an actual Munson, but when your eyes widened as what was said began to sink in, he quickly downplayed and made some silly little joke about how “no girl has yet to take me up on that offer and I can’t blame them, really, but it’s getting real disheartening that I keep ending up in clubs with no women.”

At that time, you laughed with him at his joke, but there was so much he did not know. 

You would have followed Eddie to the ends of the earth if he let you and there was nothing he could do to deter you. You were with him now, through thick and thin, whether you were no more than an ‘honorary Munson’ or if, one day, you were lucky enough to take his last name. 

This life that you shared with him now was more than you ever could have hoped for, but you were grateful for every second you spent with him. 

You snuggled next to him on the old couch, surrounded by love and holiday cheer as you held your mug of coffee in your hands and listened to Eddie joking around with his uncle. The two were more like father and son than anything else and you fit into the mold of their little existence. 

Eddie had shaped you, in a way, and shown you that you did not have to conform to the cookie-cutter life that society had laid out for you. In fact, all this time you spent with Eddie made you realize that this was what made life worth living – the differences between you and him were vast, but that was one of the main things that he adored about your relationship. 

He did not wish to conform and he appreciated the differences between people, their varied interests and what made them unique. He was a very outspoken young man and he had a lot to say that most could benefit from hearing, if only they would stop and listen. 

You had always heard what Eddie was saying, even before he opened his mouth. You had longed for a man like him to come along and whisk you away to safety. For far too long had you been trying to perpetuate the same message but lacked the confidence to stand on a cafeteria tabletop and shout it. 

Not Eddie.

This man would scream it if he had to and he did not care who heard him or what was said in response. 

He was unapologetic in who he was and that was everything. 

He believed that everyone had a place in this society and that he was as deserving of his own existence as much as anyone else, but most importantly, he wanted you to feel that way too, about yourself. 

He knew that you did and even on days when life bested you or your confidence faltered and you had difficulty looking yourself in the mirror or picking yourself up after you fell down, Eddie would remind you of your worth. Perhaps a few jokes and a quick kiss to lift your spirits – “Keep your head up, princess,” he quipped, “you’re my metalhead Rapunzel, remember? You gotta keep your head up so everybody can see your pretty hair.”

Your hair was your baby and Eddie knew it was the quickest way to get you to smile.

But, when all else failed and you needed a much firmer reminder, he would tell you to never give up on yourself.

You were one of the brightest, most intelligent, capable, independent, brave and considerate people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing and he might just have to get on another tabletop and shout about that, but that might be for another day. 

For now, he was content to sit beside you and enjoy your pleasant company. 

Wrapping paper littered the ground at your feet from gifts given with love and extra forethought.

A gentle dusting of snow covered the cold ground outside, however, you were safe and warm inside of the Munson trailer, swapping stories, eating cookies and sweets for breakfast (uncle Wayne allowed this, as Christmas did only come once a year) and soaking up all of the love you were surrounded by. 

If heaven was a place on earth, it was inside of this quaint little trailer and you would have given your heart a thousand times over for just an extra lifetime with Eddie Munson. 

This was where you belonged and, if it counted for anything, you might have even considered giving up coffee for him.

Though this, you would never tell him because, after all, what good was it to give up all your secrets at once? 

Besides, he might have had his suspicions when he noticed you set down your mug to give him a tight, warm hug. 

Wife To The Antichrist // Erika x Michael Langdon (romantic) // AHS Apocalypse

Summary: You thought you were talking about hot showers, not marriage. // A little wedding gift for you and your beloved. ❤️

Word Count: 509

Erika Langdon. 

You liked the sound of that. 

Strange how it happened and even stranger how it would affect you in the days, months, years to come, but for now were you content to just live in the moment and give in to what you had always wanted and never thought you would be. 

It had happened the same as most anything you had shared with Michael up to this point. 

He rarely ever explained himself and just left you to figure out what he meant in the wake of the aftermath of spoken words and shared sentiments. 

One night while you and he were chatting had he finally confessed; you thought you were just discussing hot showers, not marriage. 

“It makes sense, you’re married to the antichrist.”

You were flustered when the weight of what he said settled on top of you, coupled with the weight of his body pressing against yours in bed that night. He settled in beside you and went to sleep moments after the words left his lips and you spent that entire night pondering what he meant. 

Was he serious?

Were you and he married?

When had this occurred?

Why was it not discussed?

That was the way of it with Michael Langdon and you’d do well to get used to it if you were to be the wife of the antichrist. 

Any time that you tried to speak to him about it were you met with a simple smile, the same knowing one he gave you when you would ask him questions that you already knew the answers to. 

He never felt the need to explain himself to you, even now that you were married, which was a struggle for you to even comprehend. It was not that you were bothered by it because you loved him enough to want to cup your hands around his heart while it bled in your hands, which was perhaps a metaphor for something biblical if you cared enough about religion to make the connection. 

Michael was enigmatic and that was what drew you to him. He never explained himself or watered himself down for those around him. Although, there was an inherent softness to him, hidden beneath the surface, that was perhaps due to his upbringing. He was sharp as a wicked blade and had more edge than a kitchen knife; there was more to him than what met the eye and he felt the same way about you. 

He saw in you what no one else could see and he spent hours of his days cultivating it into something you both were proud of. Even if he had an unusual way of showing it, he loved you and understood you enough to want you to be his wife and that was perhaps one of your greatest achievements. 

You could now check it off the list: wife to the antichrist. 

You are well on your way to becoming the woman you always dreamed of and Michael Langdon was more than pleased to offer his assistance.

And there you have it!! Merry Christmas, darling, I hope you have a nice, relaxing and cozy day and I hope all of these fics touch your heart as much as they touched mine. You are so dear to me and I am honored to get to devote so much time each year to craft fics dedicated to such an amazing woman. I love you and I miss you and I sincerely hope you love what I have created here. ❤️ I cannot believe we've made it through another year already! It's been chaotic, filled with many ups and downs but I am so thankful that I got to share it with you. Take care of yourself, honey, and I hope next year gives you all of the good things you deserve. I love you! 🫂❤️

[international-kpopfan]

When he compares you to his ex - Ateez reaction (A)

Summary |  Members reaction to comparing the reader to his ex.

Genre | angst, idol! boyfriend.

Warnings |  It's angsty.

Pairing | Reader x Ateez members.

WC | Around 2K.

Note | I will be on holiday from the 12th of January till the 1st of February. I won't post anything during these days, but I will of course try to write as much as possible for you guys in my notebook. Please be patient if you have any requests.

Note | E/N is ex name.

Note | Requested by @littleunicornia

Original request |  When he compares you to his ex.

READ PART TWO HERE

Masterlist / Request Rules / Upcoming

Hongjoong sits down at his desk after having a quick break, which ended up being longer than he expected it to be. He grabs his phone out of his pocket, the screen lights up with a picture of you both from last year. A smile forms on his face as he remembers that day.

As he is working on some songs, he notices his screen lighting up multiple times. Normally he doesn't care, but today he just wants to finish this song so he can go home.

After a few minutes of ignoring the messages and even phone calls, he picks up his phone, sighing in the process as he leans back in his chair. Your name pops when he wants to call you back.

''Hey babe'', he hears you say in a joyful tone. He doesn't waste any second before saying something that he is going to regret for the rest of his life.

''Can you please stop calling?'', he asks with a bitter tone in his voice. Your eyes grow wide at the tone he is using, not familiar with the harshness of it because he never used it.

''I-.. I just called....''.

''E/N would never call me this often'', he mutters, not realizing the words he just let out of his mouth causing more harm. You stand still in front of your house, keys juggling in your hands as you clench your fist around them. You just wanted to let him know that you got a new job, that's all.

''Then maybe you should go back to her''.

You hang up on him, turning off your phone as you enter your apartment. Hongjoong knows he messed up the moment those words left his mouth, and you turning off your phone means he needs to get creative to get you to talk to him again.

When Seonghwa texted you a few minutes ago that he couldn't make it because of his schedule, you threw your phone on the bed which was filled with clothes you tried on for your planned date with your boyfriend.

Seonghwa promised, literally promised with his manager standing next to him, that he would take you on a date tonight. And he promised this two months ago.

You didn't even bother to text him back, you cleaned up all your clothes, put on something comfortable, and landed yourself on the couch with a few snacks.

Around 22:30 the door opens and an exhausted Seonghwa enters your apartment. He mumbles a hello before disappearing into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he takes place next to you on the couch, but you ignore him. Seonghwa tabs your legs, signaling to put them on his lap.

''Are you that mad?'', he asks, almost surprised at the fact that you are indeed mad.

''You promised, that is all I'm going to say''.

Seonghwa sighs as he stands up, turning as he stands in the middle of the room.

''You know, E/N never made a problem of this, never''.

You glare at him as you get up from the couch, ready to do whatever it takes to make him leave. You can't believe he gets his ex into the situation, not even while you are fighting, but he mentioned his ex as casually as possible.

''Seriously, are you going to throw the ex bomb at me?. Fine, do it. But after you're done, get out''.

It wasn't really that big of an issue, but still, it made you both angry at each other. You are someone that enjoys the peaceful silence of not having to look at your phone, social media, or whatever people do on a tablet or computer. Sometimes you just turn everything off, ignore a lot of people and sit down in the most comfortable chair you have with a book and a cup of tea.

Yunho knows this, and still, he manages to get on your nerves sometimes by literally calling you every time he gets the chance. You always let him know when you want your alone time. Always.

''Am I not important enough?'', Yunho asks, his hands resting on his hips as he stands in your doorway. You frown, not knowing what he was talking about.

''Every damn time you shut yourself off, I'm worried, I know you need that time but come on, you can talk to me right?. I'm your boyfriend after all''.

You lean against the door, sighing as you notice the pleading look on your boyfriend's face.

''Babe, I explained this to you when we had our first date, and you accepted it, you respected it. And now you are suddenly coming back from those statements?''.

He rubs his forehead with his hand, already frustrated enough by the whole situation which blew up out of nothing he managed to mumble a few words under his breath.

''E/N wasn't that weird''.

But you heard him, loud and clear.

''You know what Yunho, come back to me when you stop thinking I'm weird'', you whisper, holding back your tears as you closed the door, and he didn't even stop you from doing so.

Yeosang isn't a talker. He sometimes prefers to be quiet or he observes people rather than communicate with them. You, on the other hand, have a bubbly personality, talkative and sometimes you have too much energy. The boys even said you are the female version of Wooyoung.

You respected Yeosang, you accepted the way he is and why he doesn't talk that much. But sometimes you wish that he would say whatever is on his mind, especially when you notice something is bothering him.

''You sure everything is okay?'', you ask him, holding his hand as you both sit on the couch. Yeosang came home with a light headache, exhausted from practice and he collapsed on the couch.

''Yeah...''. You notice a slight change in his posture as if he wants to move away from you to avoid having you ask him all those questions.

''I hear a but....''.

''You heard that wrong'', he mutters angrily, his voice deeper than normal and he pushes your hand away. He stands up and walks into the kitchen to grab his keys, wallet, and phone.

''Where are you going?''.

You stand up from the couch, not trying to stop him from whatever plan is on his mind. You lean against the counter as you watch him put on his shoes.

''To the boys''.

''Alright, maybe you should talk to them''.

Yeosang whispers something, but loud enough for you to make your heart clench at the thought of him thinking about it.

''E/N would leave me be''.

''Maybe that is why she cheated on you'', you mumble before giving him a glare, knowing that Yeosang would come around in a few hours, but you would never forgive him for what he just said.

San likes to exercise (we appreciate it), and unfortunately for him, you don't. The only exercise you normally get is from the bed to the couch and once in a while to the kitchen and the toilet on a day off.

He knows it, he loves you for who you are and you do the same. It doesn't matter but lately, San has been spending more time in the gym than ever before.

Every time he comes home, he is covered in sweat, exhausted from working and exercising and he just falls asleep once his head touches the pillow.

''Can you skip the gym for one time?'', you ask him with a pout and batting your eyelashes.

San chuckles but shakes his head. ''No baby, I need to be in shape, look..''. He pulls up his shirt, revealing his abs smiling proudly at his achievement.

''You know I don't care about that right?'', you ask him while chuckling, pushing his shirt down again and you notice him clench his jaws.

''Yeah but I do''.

You sigh and lean against his shoulder. ''I know, but you can maintain your abs by training two or three days instead of four or five, I mean...''.

San stands up while shaking his head in disbelief. ''You just don't get it, do you?'', he asks while he grabs his bag. ''You know who does?''. You don't even get time to answer.

''E/N''. You chuckle at him, letting the words sink in before replying.

''If she does, why don't go to her and show her your abs?. Maybe she will like them now, don't forget she dumped you because you didn't have them''.

Mingi is having the time of his life being an idol. You on the other hand are having the time of your life being a student. I mean, those times at college or university are memories you'll never forget.

While you are studying, you managed to make a lot of friends. Friends who studied in the same department but also people from other departments were part of your social ring.

You know dating an idol comes with packed schedules, not having much alone time but also not having the free will to spend some time together. And every time Mingi would be working or being late, you spend your free time with friends. What you didn't know was that Mingi hated the fact that you spend more time with your friend than him, but he also knows that he is a part of the problem.

''Again?'', he asks as you give him a quick kiss on the lips. You visited the boys at the dorm before they had to work and you made some plans with a few friends to go have lunch and study some more.

''Yeah? is that a problem?''.

Mingi shakes his head. ''What about me?''.

''You are busy today babe, what do you expect me to do?. Stay home and do nothing?''.

He bites his lip, hands in his pockets as he paces around the living room. ''E/N would do that for me''.

You look at Mingi with a confused and shocked look on your face. You never expected him to get his ex involved in your relationship.

''And I won't. So you can choose...let me know when you have the answer''.

Wooyoung is loud (we love him for it) and sometimes his overactive behavior gets on your nerves. You shrug it off most of the time because it's his personality and you fell for it when you met him a few years ago.

But even when you fell for it, it sometimes gets annoying. Wooyoung tries to keep himself calm and quiet around you when you are having a bad day, but the fact that he isn't able to be his true self is getting on his nerves.

''Am I too loud again?'', he asks while cleaning up the table after dinner. You shake your head. ''No babe, stop saying that''.

Wooyoung notices your eye roll, not knowing if it's intentional or not he slams his hands on the counter, startling you as you sit down on the couch.

''What the...''.

''I saw that eye roll, don't lie to me. You think I'm being too loud''.

You sigh as you stand up from the couch, walking towards the kitchen to confront your boyfriend about this.

''No, I told you already. I just don't understand that you keep asking it''.

Wooyoung leans against the counter, arms folded in front of his chest as he watches you lean against the fridge, a concerning look covering your face. He shakes his head as he walks to the hallway to grab his coat and put on his shoes.

''Where are you going?. Why are you leaving all of the sudden?''.

He stops in front of the door, turns around, and looks at you with the most disappointed look on his face.

''Because E/N would never, ever make me feel uncomfortable or the fact that I need to change because you can't handle. Make a choice, you either accept me for who I am, or you let me go and find a man that is quiet enough for your liking''.

And with that he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving you unable to move or even think in your apartment.

Jongho is a busy man. You are a busy woman with your own packed schedules. You sometimes just see each other for five minutes during the day and then one of you is off to work or whatever that is planned during the day.

You needed your sleep, some people just need five hours, some need nine hours and you are one of them. Otherwise, your body is not functioning during the day.

Jongho sometimes gets annoyed when you go to bed early. He just wants to spend time with you while you can.

''I'm going to bed, I have to get up at 5'', you whisper as you press a kiss on his lips. He just nods, making it clear to you that there is something wrong.

''What's wrong?'', you ask him, standing in front of him, putting your hands on his shoulders.

''Nothing, just go to bed'', he says and he removes your hands from his shoulders.

''Are you angry at me for going to bed early?'', you ask again, slowly sitting down next to him on the couch. ''If you are, please do tell me why?''.

''Because every damn minute I'm free I want to spend time with you. Including evenings and nights, is that so hard to believe?''.

You look down at your feet. He's got a point, but also he needs to consider that both of you have busy jobs, and sleep is something you both desire.

''You know what, E/N would never go to bed before 12'', he says as he leans back against the couch, grabbing the remote control to turn on the tv. Your heart clenches at the thought of his ex, knowing that their breakup was messy and for him to mention his ex, makes it clear that he is truly disappointed in you. But you, on the other hand, it doesn't give him the right to even get mad or disappointed about it. Out of all people, he should know that sleep is something you don't get too often when you are an idol.

''Then why...''. You pause to look at the clock hanging on the wall. ''are you still here?. Go and spend some time with her because apparently, that's what's on your mind''.

You stand up without even looking at him and you shut your bedroom door. Jongho knew he fucked up.

[bokutosworld]

a wish come true | oikawa t. 

pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

wc: 1.6k words, fluff. domestic husband and wife relationship with my fave pretty setter <3 

summary: Oikawa loves Christmas. And what better way to celebrate his favorite season than with his avorite person in the world? 

this is part of the winter wonderland collab! masterlist here

Oikawa honestly believes that Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. Ever since he was young, he has looked forward to waking up to snowy mornings and the sounds of Christmas carols playing in the house.

The holidays made him feel happy, warm, and blessed. More so now that he will be spending his first Christmas married to you.

Always the first one to wake up, Oikawa opened his eyes with a content smile on his face. A glance to the window on his right side and he sees the tiny snowflakes falling down, he can already imagine how they have painted the streets in white.

His eyes then land on the picture frame sitting on the bedside table. Stretching a hand to grab it, he admires the joyous moment where he has you engulfed in his arms, the two of you looking at each other with so much affection. It's like he traveled back in time as his body remembers the overwhelming feeling of joy from your wedding day. He recalls how he teared up seeing you walk down the aisle, smiling from ear to ear and looking gorgeous in your dress. He thought that you were an angel that descended from the heavens. Most of all, he still feels emotional, his heart beating twice as fast when he thinks back to the first kiss the two of you shared as husband and wife. It was a gesture that sealed a promise of a lifetime, the beginning of forever with the one and only person that completes his life.

He returns the photo in its place when he hears the rustling of the blanket and quiet groans as you slowly come awake. Oikawa shifts and admires your sleeping face, bringing a finger to gently trace the outline of your features starting from your eyebrows to the bridge of your nose and hovering over the shape of your lips.

You murmur softly, opening one eye to look at him. It never failed to make you warm when you are greeted with Oikawa's smile first thing in the morning. Groggily, you cup his face and tenderly stroke his cheek, "Good morning, love."

"Merry Christmas." He hums and leans closer, showering you with morning kisses. He has you trapped in his embrace as he continues to pepper you with love, and just like that the first few minutes of the Christmas Day are spent tangled in the sheets and enjoying each other's warmth.

While this was your first Christmas as a married couple, Oikawa didn't have that much expectations as how the day would go by. As long as he had you by his side, any activity became extra special - whether it's watching classic holiday movies, making a snowman on the park, or sipping on hot chocolates by the fireplace together. But there is one thing that he would like to make as a tradition for the Christmases to come.

"A Christmas market?" You ask when he shows you the event poster on his phone. Oikawa enthusiastically proposed the idea of heading down to the city and spend the evening in the annual Christmas market. Back when you were still dating, weekend bazaars and community fairs were events that you and Oikawa enjoyed. While these places were often crowded, the two of you managed to have fun and act lovey-dovey in your own little world, much to the envy of the people around you.

"I heard there will be a string quartet that will be performing later this evening," he suggested. "There's also an illuminations show near the square where a massive tree is located. And of course, our favorite food booths and vendors will be there." He takes your hand and looks at you expectantly, "What do you say?"

With the way Oikawa presented the idea, he seemed like a child talking about what he wants  for Christmas. And how could you say no to that?

Which is how you and Oikawa currently found yourselves decked in your coats and matching red and green scarves, hand in hand and standing in front of the brightly-illuminated arch that served as the entrance to the market. From your position, you can see the park bursting with life as many people came to enjoy with their loved ones. You can already see the different booths that were lined up in the path and Oikawa excitedly tugged you to the first stall that was selling gingerbread cookies in a box. 

"Love, can we take a 10 minute rest? I'm tired." You begged after spending the last 30 minutes upon your arrival, walking around and going from one booth to another to either play parlor games or stuff your stomachs with whatever food and snack you find. Of course, Oikawa didn't pass up on buying the Christmas gifts that he thought he could give to his former teammates.

Sensing your exhaustion, Oikawa relented and brought you to the nearest bench. As you sat down, he put the shopping bags by your side and bent down. He slid off one of your shoes and massaged the heels that were starting to hurt. Oikawa looked up at you inquisitively, "Is this helping? Am I doing this right?"

You chuckle, "Very much so. Thanks." He continued his ministrations for a few minutes, the joyful sound of Christmas carols filling the silence between the two of you. When he's done, he takes the space beside you and instinctively, you lean your head on his shoulders.

However, the quiet atmosphere didn't last for long as it was replaced by the loud wailing of a child who sat alone near your bench. Worried, you both stood up from your place and accompanied the little girl.

"Ssh, hey, princess, stop crying." Oikawa consoled her, gently patting the kid on the head as she continued to sob. Her frail body was shaking and you quickly brought her to your chest and embraced her,

"Where are your parents, sweetheart?"

Her answer came in a hushed tone, "I lost them. I let go of my mommy's hand. I'm scared." She was really terrified with the way her tiny hand gripped the lining of your coat. You glanced at Oikawa and he was also close to crying, his lips quivering as he was trying to stop the tears from flowing down his eyes.

Wiping away her cries, you comforted her, "Alright, don't worry. We're here for you, okay, sweetheart? Let's go find your parents. I'm sure they are looking for you right now."

You get up and offer your hand to the girl, but she surprised you when she clung on to Oikawa, hiding her face in his coat. His heart warmed at the action so he carried her in his arms all the way until she was reunited with her mom and dad.

Luckily, the search wasn't as difficult as you thought it would be. When you arrived at the customer service, a couple was already standing in wait. Their eyes widened when they saw you and Oikawa walking over with their daughter, and they couldn't be more thankful for keeping their little girl safe and returning her to their side.

Now, you and Oikawa were taking a stroll along the sidewalk, the cold evening breeze fanning over your faces and the lights decorated on the trees guiding the path. Oikawa's mind seemed to be somewhere distant as he simply looked straight ahead. You remember how he reassured the child when she hugged him tightly, and you thought that Oikawa would be a great father someday.

Oikawa suddenly stops in his tracks, turning to you with a look as if he has realized something. "Have I told you that I love you lately?"

So this was what he was thinking so seriously about. You smiled, "I don't know. You could always tell me again."

He nods and pulls you close to him, burying his face in your neck. He exhales your familiar and comforting scent, and it's like a fog clears in his head. "I'm so lucky to have you. You're everything that I have been wishing for and more."

"You're my dream come true," he murmurs. You were too stunned to say anything in response to his surprise confession. It's not like he hasn't openly declared his love for you before, but when he has outbursts like this, you were always bound to be speechless. Laughing awkwardly, you ask about what brought this on.

"I don't know," he sighs. "I just got too attached with the little girl earlier and I thought about how her parents might be feeling when she got separated from them. I realized I don't ever want to lose you." He stares at your eyes, hopeful as he says, "Or our future kid."

You blinked at his statement, mouth agape in shock as you thought about what he was implying. The gears were running in your head and when they finally clicked, that's when you found the courage to speak. "Are you saying-?

He lifts your hand and kisses it, "I know it’s too soon. We just got married seven months ago. But, I already want to start a family with you."

And as if on cue, you started tearing up uncontrollably. Probably out of happiness. Or maybe it was the raging hormones that you felt as you thought back to a morning two weeks ago, when you were sitting in the toilet and waiting for the results of your pregnancy test - two lines. Positive.

And here you were now, you couldn't think of a better time to share the good news with Oikawa. You were smiling through your tears as you looked at Oikawa, bringing his face close to yours as you whispered, "Looks like your wish came true earlier than expected."

His initial reaction was confusion, replaced by shock, then happiness as he unraveled the meaning of your words. He tackles you in an embrace, lifting and twirling you around as the snowflakes danced in the air. He already can't wait for next Christmas where there will be the three of you celebrating.

FIN. taglist - @aii-channn​ @peteunderoos​ @jungtoast​ @nekoclysm​ @our-tall-slytherin-queen​ @isabella5 @slippinglasses​ @yhyucklee @rowley-with-ackerman​ @lilacnoodles @ineedsomefoodpls​ (can’t tag those in italics!)

[unnecessarywriting]

Loneliness is Not an Option - Remus Lupin

A/N: Here is my last Christmas fic for this year. I hope you all enjoyed all of them that I uploaded. This is one that I’ve had on my mind for a week now. It’s short and sweet, although it starts a little angsty. It came from the song “Please Come Home for Christmas” and I couldn’t help but give a little love to Remus. Thank you all and I hope you all had a Merry Christmas!

Loneliness is Not an Option

How do we define loneliness? Such an existential question comes with a backstory, so here it is. It was Christmas night. Yes, you had spent the holiday completely on your own, but it wasn’t Remus’ fault. It also wasn’t the fault of any of your friends. It was quite depressing how you had no one to comfort you, or send you fun Christmas cards, or even just wish you a Happy Christmas. They all had duties to the Order. You tried to join, but Remus was insistent that he keep you safe. You still participated in certain activities, but he had wanted at least one person from the friend group to live their dreams. That’s what you were supposed to be doing, except it wasn’t going as planned.

You and Remus had bought a house right out of school. You were excited to start living with the love of your life, but you hadn’t anticipated how often he would not be home. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You honestly thought that he wanted to be home with you more than you wanted him home with you. In the beginning of the holiday season, you thought that you would be lucky, but when he walked into the living with a sunken look on his face, you knew he wasn’t going to be around often. You were rightfully disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to celebrate your first Christmas outside of Hogwarts with Remus, but you understood that the war was a bit more pressing. 

The sadness didn’t really sink in until you decorated the tree. You had always dreamed of the situation being filled with laughter, playful kisses, and new memories, but that isn’t how it happened. You were alone, drunk, and singing along to muggle Christmas songs that came on the radio. It was about a week before Christmas when you put the tree up. You tried to put it off so you could decorate it with Remus, but when a letter came from him telling you that he might not be back until after the holiday, you stopped waiting and pulled out the firewhiskey. When everything was on the tree except for the star on top, you sat down on the ground. Your eyes traced over the outline of the tree, but the Christmas spirit avoided your soul. You sighed to yourself.

“This next one is a new release from the Eagles. Here is “Please Come Home for Christmas,” you heard the radio spit out. You laughed at the irony, but listened anyway. As the lyrics flowed through your ear, you felt the first tears of the holiday season start their journey down your face. You were completely alone. 

The following days, it seemed like the world was playing some sort of prank on you. Everytime you turned on the radio, you heard that song’s melody flow through your body. It was catchy, you were not going to lie, but the words haunted you as you dreamed of being reunited with your love. Christmas Eve, you sat alone in your home, thinking about Remus. You hoped he was safe, but you wanted to be selfish. Just this once. You wanted him home with you. You stared into the fire and thought back to the last Christmas you spent with him.

“Moony, stop eating all of the chocolate. Share some with me at least.” He smiled with a bit of guilt. He was like a puppy who just got caught tearing up someone’s slippers. He was absolutely adorable. You fell into his embrace on the couch.

“I can’t wait until next Christmas,” he spoke earnestly. “It will be just the two of us, in our home. We will decorate the place to be the most comforting and joyful place. And, we will have plenty of chocolate on standby. Then, we will exchange gifts, and just spend the day with each other. No one to interrupt us.” You giggled at his plans. He was simple, but he meant the best. He wanted the both of you to just have each other. You knew that it was likely that a certain group of boys would ultimately crash your day, but you weren’t complaining. You were just excited to have a future with the man who was holding you.

How naïve you two were. If only you could see yourself and tell you to not get your hopes up. Your bitterness was ruining the holiday. You wanted to turn it all off, and you did. You unplugged the lights, and took down the stockings. The tree remained in its place, but you took off the star. You would take care of the tree the following day. You then went to bed.

The following morning, you slept in. You had no reason to get up early. The rest of the day was filled with moping around the house. You looked at some of the photos that rested above your fireplace. One in particular caught your eye,

“James! Sirius! I swear, if you break anything, I will make your life a living hell. Remus, stop them. I don’t want to have to clean up after them. Thank you for being a good guest Peter, I just wish the other two would learn.” You face palmed as Lily handed you a glass of wine. 

“I would try to stop James, but he is truly impossible.” You looked at her with misery written on your face. She laughed at your expression. “On a different note, I love this place Y/N. It is absolutely gorgeous and perfect for the two of you.” 

“Thank you Lily, although I don’t think it is going to remain in one piece so long as those two are still here.” You giggled as you heard Remus try to lecture them on what it means to be a respectful guest.

“Do you think you’re gonna have everyone over for the holidays?” You thought for a moment. 

“Maybe, although I think Remus might just want it to be the two of us. I will say that if you did decide to just pop by for dinner or something, I certainly wouldn’t object,” you hinted at her. She caught on and nodded as if she was already making plans. 

“Darling, those two are impossible. I don’t know what to do.” Remus looked exhausted from trying to stop the other two. You laughed at him and pulled him in for a hug.

“Aww, did the two children break you? What was it, two hours? Lily, I think you owe me 5 galleons,” you joked. She laughed with you as Remus rolled his eyes.

Lily looked at the counter and saw a camera sitting there.

“Hey, let’s get a picture of you two to commemorate your moving in here.” You both agreed with her idea, and got ready for a cute pose. What you didn’t see was the two troublemakers sharing a knowing look. 

That photo was one of your favorites. You and Remus looked so happy. That looked changed to one of both fear and confusion as Padfoot and Prongs entered. Yes, the deer and dog made their way into one of your favorite photos. You still hadn’t fully forgiven James for almost denting your walls with his antlers. 

You walked into the kitchen that night to start cooking dinner. It wasn’t going to be anything given that you were alone, but you needed to eat something. You reluctantly turned on the radio to hear that dreaded song. At this point, you just sang along to the song that defined your Christmas. Alone, and hoping that the love of your life would return in time to end all of your sorrow and fill it with happiness. 

“You know, I think I can make the sorrow, grief, and pain disappear.” You whipped around at the sound of his voice.

“You’re home,” you said as more of a statement than a question.

“I’m home.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. We finished earlier than expected, and I rushed home to be with you. I promised you a Christmas featuring me, and well, chocolate. I brought both.” He had an awkward smile as he held up some chocolate.

You ran over to him and practically jumped into his arms. He held onto you as you quietly sobbed into his sweater. You had never been happier. The only sounds in the house were your quiet sobs, and the sounds of muggle Christmas music.

“Dance with me,” he muttered. You pulled away and adjusted your body as you two silently danced to the tunes. It was a peaceful bliss. Some time passed as you two enjoyed each other’s company like he promised the year before.

“You know, I told Lily that she could invade our Christmas, but now I kind of hope she doesn’t.”

“Why is that, my dear?” You looked into his eyes, and then looked at what was left of the Christmas decorations in the living room.

“Well, as you can see, there isn’t a whole lot of joy left in this room.” You were feeling a little guilty for taking down everything.

“I guess it’s a good thing that none of us really care. We just wanted to be together anyway!” Sirius was standing with the rest of the group. Everyone looked happy to be safe in the same room. You smiled and got up to hug all of them. 

Was it late? Yes, but none of you cared. You had enough room for everyone, and you weren’t about to kick out the people you desired to see most. Your night was filled with tears from the constant laughter that the group brought, firewhiskey to loosen everyone up, joyful memories that came from the dumb things you all began, and passionate kisses with Remus as the muggle tunes continued to play from the radio.

“You know, as long as I have you, loneliness is not an option. I promise that when this war is finally over, you will never spend another Christmas alone, or any holiday for that matter. I love you so much Y/N. Happy Christmas!” 

“Happy Christmas Remus. I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” You smiled as you kissed him with all of the love in the world to power it.

[danineverwenttoazkaban]

SE Appreciation Week - Fic 1 (Karol route)

@sweeteliteweek Very late but I just barely ended this not so short fic.

This is Karol’s route imagining some moments like the airport goodbye and days later while they’re at home so Papa Scholar is also featuring. I couldn’t help but add a bit of Tegan too and I tried to put several ideas I had together on the same story. Hopefully the back and forth between present and past is not too confusing. I didn’t know how to name it so I just took a song I was listening to by Wilco that is really sweet if anyone wants to listen to it.

Jesus, Etc.

The familiar vibrant and noisy city was something Scholar hadn’t think she would miss during those months at Arlington’s. Especially not the noises from the neighbor from the floor above as she rowed with her husband for the third time tonight, the people pacing up and down the stairs, the kids playing, the pizza delivery guys and Misses Jones with her 5 dogs. She smirked thinking what Karolina would say if she heard all this noise and reminisced to when they met, smiling at the thought. She would be rich by now if she was given a dollar for each time she thought of Karolina since she got on the plane home.

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

“That’s my plane, people! Enjoy the journey home!”, announced Tyler as he picked up his heavy luggage. He hadn’t explained what the heck he was carrying on his bags but Scholar assumed it was something artistic.

“Hey Tyler, don’t forget about tomorrow’s match! There will be a 30% buff bonus”, said Tegan.

“Oh man, I told you I have that thing with my parents. I’ll make it up to you later, promise”, replied Tyler.

“… ok”, said Tegan as he gave him a weak smile, clearly disappointed.

“Cheers!”, shouted Tyler as he ran towards gate A27.

Only Scholar, Tegan and Karolina remained in the departure lounge. Neither Tegan or Karolina seemed particularly happy of going home, in fact Tegan was staring at the floor as if he had just been told Christmas had been cancelled this year.

“Hey, maybe I could join? I am not very good at videogames to be honest but you can teach me”, said Scholar putting a hand on Tegan’s shoulder.

Tegan looked up and smiled blushing.

“S-sure, I think you’d make a great cleric”, Scholar had no idea what that meant but she hated the sad aspect Tegan had.

She noticed Karolina was staring at her direction, a curious look on her face. In that moment, she heard her flight being called.

“Well, I guess I have to go now”, she said to both of them.

Tegan nodded.

“I’ll call you tomorrow to set your PC ready for the match”.

“Sounds like a plan!”, she answered before giving him a quick hug.

As she let go of Tegan, she looked at Karolina, unsure on how to approach her. Scholar took a step in her direction, asking for permission, they had barely talked since the night of the basement

“… I-I… goodbye, Karolina. Enjoy the holidays”, she said with slight nervousness, waiting for an answer.

Karolina was biting her lip and seemed uneasy, as if she was making up her mind about something. She leaped forward and put her arms around Scholar. The girl let go of the breath she had unknowingly kept as she felt Karolina’s warm embrace.

“Let me know when you arrive home”, Scholar heard Karolina whisper close to her ear, her breath sending shivers down her spine. She then felt something touching her cheek, she froze when she realized it was Karolina’s lips. The touch was so soft, so slight that it could had just been Scholar’s imagination. They let go of the embrace and Scholar felt her heart sink at the idea of being apart from her so many days.

“I will, you too, please”, she answered. Both Karolina and Tegan nodded and Scholar took her luggage before parting…

 The following day, Scholar had to excuse to her father early because Tegan had opened an account for her in the game they were supposed to play, in fact he had even customized her character based on a number of questions he had asked, many of which Scholar wasn’t sure how to answer. As she started her PC and positioned on her seat, she could not help but feel excited, seeing Tegan through the webcam meant also, perhaps, seeing her as well. Tegan’s face as he logged in had a mixture of sadness, exhaustion and defeat, he didn’t have Karolina’s ability of putting on a straight face, Scholar didn’t want to push an answer out so she didn’t ask. They spent a couple of hours playing, Scholar died way too many times in pure noob style but Tegan didn’t mind, in fact he laughed each time as she panicked when the other players surrounded her with attacks.

“Thank you, Scholar. You made my day”, Tegan told her after the match was over.

“I’m glad, I had a great time even though I clearly suck for this…”, she answered giggling. Tegan laughed as well, he covered his mouth whenever he laughed and Scholar thought it was cute but sad at the same time how insecure he could be at times, even among his friends.

“… She’s busy talking to mom and dad, by the way”, Tegan added after a while, “in case you were wondering.”

“Oh… it’s ok. Is everything alright?”, Scholar asked concerned, to be honest their parents didn’t exactly sound like the kind that understood and supported their children.

“They didn’t take well all that happened in FAXION, I almost didn’t login for the game but she wanted me to let her handle it on her own”, answered Tegan, “she didn’t want me blowing up and them… “, he paused, “… doesn’t matter, I will take care of her now.”

“She’s a tough girl, she worries about you too”, said Scholar, “let me know if you need anything”

“Of course, thanks again. I will tell her you say ‘hi’ ”, said Tegan before closing the session.

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

Scholar sighed as she wondered how things had gone back at the twins’ house, hoping they were ok. The days that had followed to gaming night not much had happened. Tyler spammed them with funny selfies from the Red Carpet of God knows which movie his parents had taken him to, Tadashi and Alistair sent photos with the Drews, especially the dogs at Axel’s request, and Claire and Neha exchanged recipes for Christmas season. But barely anything from Karolina, still the fact Tegan kept sending memes mocking how bad she was at gaming was oddly comforting.

“Honey, I’m home, can you give me a hand with the bags?”, called Papa Scholar’s voice.

“Sure, dad, coming!”, answered Scholar and she walked towards the kitchen.

The bags were full of materials for her father’s famous pasta recipe but this time with a twist: he had agreed on incorporating one of Claire's many recipes. Both of them prepared everything for their movie night. Afterwards, they settled in the living room as they picked a title. They decided on one of the old movies that Scholar’s father loved “Pride and Prejudice”. Scholar had tried to get his father to watch the newer adaptation of the story but it had been pointless, the 1995 version was the one her mother loved and in a way for him watching the movie again meant reliving the joyful moments they passed together. Scholar had seen it too a handful of times yet this time it felt different, she felt connected not only because it had been her mom’s favorite movie but because the situation was now all too familiar. The pride and prejudice dance.

“You keep looking at your cell phone, expecting someone’s message?”, Papa Scholar asked as he arched an eyebrow.

“N-no, just checking the hour”, Scholar tried to reply, unconvincingly.

“Hmm, don’t forget I was your age once and fell in love at your age too”, the kind man answered giving her a warm smile.

But before Scholar could reply, they heard the alert of a new message coming in. Scholar jumped at the sound and widened her eyes at the name that appeared on the screen: “Karolina”. She quickly unlocked the cell phone, almost dropping it due to the urgency. Not paying attention to her father’s laugh at her clumsy movements, she opened the message:

Karolina: Are you awake?

Scholar: Yes, hi…

Karolina: Can I call you?

Scholar’s heart drop at her message. Almost three days without a message from her and now here she was asking for a call. She really did take that “best way to win someone is to surprise them” to the bone.

“Sorry, dad. Could we drop it here? A friend from Arlington wants to talk to me”

“Don’t worry, girl. Go call your friend”, she really did have the best dad.

 Scholar practically ran towards her room and texted her back.

Scholar: Sure.

Immediately her phone was vibrating and ringing. She answered almost as a reflex.

“Karolina?”, started Scholar, trying not to sound too excited.

“… Did I interrupt you?”, asked Karolina. Her voice on the phone was something Scholar couldn’t had foreseen would make her feel weak on the knees.

“No, uhm, I was just finishing watching a movie with my dad”

“Was it one of those cheesy old movies your dad likes?”, Karolina asked on a mocking tone. Wow, she had really paid attention…

“Ha, yeah. Pride and Prejudice… because you know how much I’m into the hate to love trope”, she blurted out surprising herself. Was it too bold to hint at ‘them’ like that? What was it about Karolina that it made her go rogue often.

Silence.

“… yes, I know”, Karolina answered. Scholar wondered, hoped, if Karolina was blushing.

“And what are you doing?”

“Our parents threw a party”

“Wow, sounds like fun.”

“It’s just the usual winter party they throw every year ”

“I’ve never been into a party like that”

“Of course not”, Karolina blurted out, “… I didn’t mean it to sound like that, I-I don’t think you’re missing anything”

“Karolina, not that I mind but why are you talking to me instead of enjoying yourself out there?”

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

Karolina was standing in front of the wall mirror of her bedroom. Her new pine green dress matched perfectly the emerald earrings her father had bought her last year as well as the red lipstick. Everything fit together

“Miss, they are waiting for you downstairs”, the maid called after softly knocking the door.

Karolina took her purse and proceeded towards the lobby, across the dining room and into the garden. The surrounding people dressed in etiquette, the tables and the exquisite centerpieces seemed all surreal. She felt disconnected to this usual display of frivolity and superfluous social interactions, greeting people with a fake smile and pretending to care about the chit-chat. These people who if given the chance would rather see them in ruins.

At dinner, she sat with a couple of acquaintances, girls she had known since her childhood, the type her parents considered ‘appropriate’ but could never truly be friends. Her mind drifted elsewhere, back to the chalet, the sensation of safety, of being seen for the first time through the façade of her strong petty attitude, the possibility of being just ‘Karol’. She excused herself as the girls looked at her questioningly, stood up and walked behind a couple of bushes seeking some privacy.

“I heard she is going down her mother’s route”, she heard a voice say from behind the bushes.

“Her scandal at FAXION was disastrous, everyone has been talking about it”, followed another voice.

“Honestly, does it surprise anyone? It was a wonder she got this far”, said a third voice.

Karolina felt the anger and hurt built inside her, she was about to turn around and face whoever felt they had the right to talk behind her back in her own house when her cellphone vibrated. She took out her cellphone and noticed Scholar had sent a message to the group thanking Claire for the last recipe attaching also a photo of Scholar and her father cooking. She smiled at how happy they seemed and got lost in the sparkle of her eyes. She bit her lip debating on whether or not to message her… Screw it.

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

 “… Hmm, Karolina, is everything ok? Can you still hear me”, Scholar asked.

“Yes, I-I just … “, Karolina answered.

“You know you can tell me anything”, Scholar said, “how is everything with your parents?”

She heard Karolina sighed.

“Not good but I’d rather not talk about it”

“I’m sorry about that but it’s fine, what do you want to talk about then?”

“Nothing really, I was just bored, this party is obnoxious”, Scholar’s heart skipped a beat at her words, does she just miss me?

“I see…”, Scholar said. With her heart palpitating like crazy and the excitement of talking to Karolina she couldn’t hold back her emotions and she added, “… I miss you too.”

“I never said… you’re right, I do”, Scholar smirked. Karolina admitting her feelings was so refreshing; Scholar would need one of Neha’s teas to calm down the butterflies in her stomach.

“So dull party, huh? Should I be thankful I didn’t get invited?”, followed Scholar.

“I don’t find this type of parties endearing anymore”

“What? Hanging out with me is harming your social standards”

“Haha, you wished. I’ve never liked these parties but it was a good opportunity to meet important people”

“Oh, did you meet anyone interesting this time?”

“No, I found out that people are still talking about my FAXION fiasco”, Scholar felt her blood boil at that.

“They did? I wished I could beat some sense into that people”,

Karolina chuckled.

“Hey, I don’t mind. It’s better if they talk about me, free publicity. Besides we technically won.”

“That you did, you two were amazing, seriously no one could rival Neha’s designs. Also, you looked so beautiful and classy… even though you weren’t feeling well, you pulled that off despite everything. I can only imagine the big things you’ll do in the near future”

“You’re sweet. But remember I could steal your third place in the Gold Tier if you’re not careful”

“Oh Miss Novakova, we’ll see about that, we could bet to me beating you up in the finals”, were they flirting for real this time?, Scholar thought.

“You’re not taking me to the cafeteria again, are you?”, oh they definitely were.

“Hmm how about taking you to the gardens? Like a picnic?”, oh god, was she asking her on a date?!

“Hmmm… ok, deal”, Scholar heard Karolina answer. She did just ask Karolina on a date and she said yes!

“Deal”, wow. But this time she wouldn’t let Karolina say it wasn’t a date.

She heard Karolina laugh on the other end and it made her grin like an idiot, she wondered if Karolina was blushing furiously like she was.

“Thank you, by the way”, Karolina said after a brief silence.

“For what?”

“Helping my brother stay calm. You didn’t have to do that”

“I’m glad to help, he’s a dear friend and it killed me to see him so sad”

“He has been happier considering…”, Scholar assumed she meant with whatever was going on in their house. She wished she could do more.

“And you? Feeling better?”, Scholar asked.

“Much better”,

“I’m glad. I’m here for you, always”

“I know, I’m here for you too”, her voice sounded soft, to think about how much had happened for them to get to this point.

“I have to hang up now, we’ll talk soon”, Karolina added.

“Oh ok, of course, go back to the party”, she didn’t know what to say, she could had kept talking to her all holidays if she could.

“Good night… Oh, and watch out your door tomorrow”, Karolina said with a curious tone in her voice, almost nervous.

“Tomorrow? What happens tomorrow?”, Scholar asked confused.

“J-just pay attention, ugh. I have to go now.”

“Ok, ok, I will do. Good night, Karolina”, and with that she was left with the usual cellphone tone.

 The following day was Christmas’ Eve. To say she had spent the morning ecstatic was an understatement. She kept circling around the call she had with Karolina, the fact she had asked her out on a date and whatever she meant by watching out for her door. Her dad was surprised that out of all the friends she had made at Arlington it was actually Karolina whom she had a crush on (she had to tell him since she couldn’t hide her joy).

“My first guess was that girl Claire who kindly gave us the recipes for Christmas dinner”, Papa Scholar said as he found out about the source of her daughter’s disturbance.

“Funny you guessed Claire, dad”, sighed Scholar remembering the fatal mistletoe incident.

“Why funny?”

“Oh dad, it’s just… a long story”, Scholar said.

“Well, I have to say that Karolina girl is drop dead gorgeous and if you say she is nicer to you, I believe you. When can you invite her here?”

“Dad! We’re not even… I mean, we almost … kissed b-but …”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it”, said Papa Scholar.

“Actually dad, can you let me check who it is?”, jumped Scholar as she headed to the door.

She peaked from the door peephole. On the other side there was a guy looking like a delivery man.

“H-hello? Who is it?”, Scholar asked.

“Good afternoon, I have a delivery for a person named Scholar”, the guy answered from the other side.

Scholar opened the door, the man was carrying a golden plastic bag with a red bow on the outside.

“Hi, I’m Scholar”

“Oh great, I’m supposed to deliver this”, he handed her the bag, “please sign here… and here”

Scholar did as he requested and looked at the bag, it looked very elegant for a plastic bag.

“Thank you, merry Christmas, ma’am”

“Thank you too, merry Christmas!”

Scholar walked towards the living room holding the odd bag on her right hand. She took a seat on the couch and placed the bag on top of the table, slowly opening it. There was a card and a small black box on the inside. She took out the small box and opened it being startled by its content. It was an astonishing silver necklace with a sapphire pendant on the center, tiny diamonds seemed to surround the almost heart-shaped figure of the pendant. Papa Scholar couldn’t believe his eyes either, he got the card out and gasped.

“Honey, you need to read the card, look”, Papa Scholar said as he handed it out for her.

Scholar took the card in her shaky hands and opened it carefully:

“Hopefully this starts your way into the better fashion sense you desperately need… Merry Christmas, Karolina”

Scholar lost no time and rushed to get her cellphone. Please answer, please answer, she thought as she heard the dialing tone.

“Hi”, she heard Karolina’s voice answer.

“I-I-… Oh god, I-I can’t even… It’s so beautiful!”, Scholar tried to say forgetting how to speak.

“I am glad you like it.”

“I just… wow… thank you! How did you know where I live?”

“Uh-oh, guess who, Scholar”, she heard Tegan’s voice say.

“Y-you! From the time we played together… should had figured. “, Scholar said laughing.

“You got me, hehe. I’ll give Karol back her cell phone. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Tegan!”

“I am sorry I had to ask him”

“Don’t be sorry, I love it”, Scholar said, almost as much as I love you, she thought, “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas, I feel awful, you went through all this and I-“

“I don’t need you to get me anything, just everything you’ve done for me and … how much I … I can’t tell you on the phone, ok?”, Karolina said.

“… s-sure. Thank you so much, Karol”, was it the first time she called her Karol out loud?

“Besides I already feel like I have my Christmas gift… Anyway, our father is calling us. Merry Christmas, Scholar”

“Merry Christmas, Karol”, Scholar replied and added, “I… you know I do too, for a while now if I’m honest.”

“I kind of knew but didn’t want to see it… Enjoy your night”

“Y-you too. Bye”.

 This was definitely the best Christmas she could had ever imagined, she only wished she could had thanked her in person but soon, very soon they will be able to figure it out.

END

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Hope you guys like it! The ending was rushed because it’s super late here so sorry for that.

[calzona-ga]

She might change her mind; she certainly has before. But midway through an interview, Ellen Pompeo casually drops the bomb that after more than 360 episodes, the upcoming 17th season of “Grey’s Anatomy” may be its last.

“We don’t know when the show is really ending yet,” Pompeo says, answering a question that was not at all about when the show might end. “But the truth is, this year could be it.”

Pompeo has played Meredith Grey — the superstar surgeon around whom “Grey’s Anatomy” revolves — since its start. The show, created by Shonda Rhimes, premiered on ABC on March 27, 2005, and became an immediate, noisy hit. Since then, for a remarkably long time in Hollywood years, the drama has been among the most popular series on TV, even as the landscape of television has changed seismically. At its Season 2 ratings height, the program drew an average audience of 20 million viewers. And all these years later — in a TV universe now divided by more than 500 scripted shows —“Grey’s” ranks as the No. 1 drama among 18- to 34- year-olds and No. 2 among adults 18 to 49. In delayed, multiplatform viewing, Season 16 averaged 15 million viewers.

Strikingly, technology is such that teenagers who were born when the show premiered, and later binged “Grey’s” on Netflix, watch new episodes live with their parents. The series has spawned two successful spinoffs for ABC, “Private Practice” (which ran from 2007 to 2013) and “Station 19” (which enters its fourth season this fall). “Grey’s Anatomy” has been licensed in more than 200 territories across the world, translated into more than 60 languages, and catapulted the careers of music artists — from Ingrid Michaelson and Snow Patrol to Tegan and Sara and the Fray — whose songs have played during key emotional sequences.

In its explosive initial success, “Grey’s Anatomy” was an insurgent force in popular culture. The Season 1 cast featured three Black actors — Chandra Wilson, James Pickens Jr. and Isaiah Washington — as doctors in positions of power at the Seattle hospital where the show is set, and Sandra Oh played the ambitious intern Cristina Yang, who would become Meredith’s best friend. For the women characters, the “Grey’s” approach to sex was defiant and joyful, starting in the pilot with Meredith’s one-night stand with Derek (Patrick Dempsey), who turned out to be one of her bosses at the hospital.

Rhimes presented these images to the world like they were no big deal, when in fact, nothing like “Grey’s” had ever been seen on network television. Krista Vernoff has been the “Grey’s Anatomy” showrunner since Season 14, as anointed by Rhimes, and was the head writer for the first seven seasons. She remembers the moment she realized how radical “Grey’s” was — a medical show driven entirely by its characters instead of their surgeries — as she watched an episode early in Season 1. “My whole body was covered in chills,” Vernoff recalls. “I was like, ‘Oh, we thought we were making a sweet little medical show — and we’re making a revolution.’”

Still, no one expected “Grey’s Anatomy” to become the longest-running primetime medical drama in TV history, outlasting “MASH” and “ER,” the previous record-holder. Since 2005, “Grey’s” has inspired countless women to become doctors, and along the way, its depiction of illness has even saved a few lives. The show has remained popular through three presidential administrations, the Great Recession, tectonic shifts in how people watch TV and two cultural reckonings — one feminist, one anti-racist — that demonstrate how ahead of its time “Grey’s Anatomy” has always been.

And they’re not done yet. When Season 17 premieres on Nov. 12, “Grey’s Anatomy” will tackle the subject of the coronavirus as experienced by the doctors at Grey Sloan Memorial, all while filming under strict COVID-19 protocols. The season is dedicated to frontline workers. And Pompeo, a producer on “Grey’s” — whose Meredith has removed a live bomb from a patient’s body, was in a plane crash, was widowed after Derek died in a car accident, was beaten nearly to death by a patient and, in a separate incident, actually did die briefly after a ferry accident — is intent on making the show top itself once again.

“I’m constantly fighting for the show as a whole to be as good as it can be. As a producer, I feel like I have permission to be able to do that,” Pompeo says. “I mean, this is the last year of my contract right now. I don’t know that this is the last year? But it could very well could be.”

Pompeo has been refreshingly transparent about her fight to become the highest-paid female actor on television, having detailed a few years ago how she negotiated a paycheck for more than $20 million a year. She clearly knows what she’s doing with these frank pronouncements as well.

As Pompeo laughs over the phone from her car, she says in a near shout: “There’s your sound bite! There’s your clickbait! ABC’s on the phone!”

The “Grey’s Anatomy” team — led by Rhimes and executive producer Betsy Beers — created the first season in a vacuum, because the show did not have an airdate. The 2004-05 season was a comeback year for ABC because “Desperate Housewives” and “Lost,” both of which debuted that fall, became phenomena — not only ratings successes but also watercooler events.

But at “Grey’s,” Rhimes was getting noted to death by network president Steve McPherson. According to Vernoff, McPherson — who resigned in 2010 under a cloud of sexual harassment allegations — stonewalled with “pushback every step of the way,” as ABC’s then- head of drama, Suzanne Patmore Gibbs, fought for the show. Vernoff was close with Patmore Gibbs, who died in 2018, and recalls her talking about her clashes with McPherson.

“He just didn’t get it; he didn’t like it,” Vernoff continues. “Honestly, I’m going to say, I don’t think he liked the ambitious women having sex unapologetically.”

Wilson, when she was cast as Miranda Bailey on “Grey’s,” was a New York theater actor (“Caroline, or Change”) relatively new to series television. But she was well aware of the network’s issues. “We took a creative break around the Christmas holiday, which to me meant ‘Oh, we’re out of a job.’”

Pompeo was frustrated: “Once we finally got an airdate, two weeks before that airdate they wanted to change the title of the show to ‘Complications.’”

In an email to Variety, McPherson disputed these assertions, saying, “I made the original deal with Shonda. I developed ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ at the studio. I picked it up at ABC.” He praised Patmore Gibbs, and added, “As for defaming me again and again, I don’t know what to say other than it’s sad that anyone feels the need to spread lies about me.”

Yet there was so little faith in the show that the writers were asked to clear out their offices when they finished the season. But to Vernoff, who had clicked right away with Rhimes, the early episodes had “felt like a labor of love.”

And it was worth the battle. “We fought for the right for Meredith and Bailey to be whole human beings, with whole sex lives, and not a network TV idea of likable,” Vernoff says. “You might not have been likable, but now you’re iconic.”

As far as the medicine went, the cases were often ostentatious. “Every kind of crazy accident that had ever caused terrible harm to any human ever, that was our homework at night,” Vernoff says. It was up to Zoanne Clack, an emergency room doctor-turned-writer, to be a sounding board in the writers’ room. She began as the only doctor on staff during the first season, and is now an executive producer. “What was interesting was that the writers don’t have those boundaries because they don’t know the rules, so they would come up with all of these scenarios, and my immediate thought was like, ‘No way!’” Clack says. “Then I’d have to think about it and go, ‘But could it?’”

When the program finally premiered — on a Sunday night after “Desperate Housewives” — to massive ratings, it was a shock to the cast and crew, given that they had shot the first season under a cloud, Pompeo says, adding, “So the fact that the numbers were that huge the first time we aired was a big f–k-you to McPherson!”

With Season 2 now a given, everything changed, Vernoff says: “It was like a hurricane-force gale, and everyone was just trying to hold on.” They had made 13 episodes for Season 1, airing nine of them and holding the final four for Season 2 — Meredith finding out that Derek was actually married (to Addison, played by Kate Walsh) had felt like the perfect finale. But upon the writers’ return, Vernoff says, the feeling was “Holy s—. We have to make 22.”

The entire cast — mostly unknown actors like Katherine Heigl as the sunny Izzie Stevens, T.R. Knight as the chummy neurotic George O’Malley, and Justin Chambers as the troubled, secretly vulnerable Alex Karev — had become famous overnight. For Wilson, whose Bailey was the stern teacher the interns called “the Nazi,” it was a new experience. “Folks were scared to talk to me, like in the store or in the Target — people would just kind of leave me alone,” she says. “It was like, ‘What’s going on?’”

According to Vernoff, “Paparazzi were following the cast to work — it was wild.”

The mid- to late-2000s were the height of glossy gossip magazines such as Us Weekly (and its copycats), as well as the inception of TMZ and Perez Hilton as celebrity-hounding, news-breaking forces that fueled (and soiled) the fame-industrial complex. The cast of “Grey’s Anatomy” was firmly in the sights of these new, often toxic forces in media.

Pompeo says the cast was so talented that it “was all worth it” — but yes, the transition to stardom was hard for the group: “At the time, it was just a real combination of exhaustion and stress and drama. Actors competing with each other — and envious.”

Heigl, Knight and Isaiah Washington all went through press cycles that made the show seem scandal-prone. To rehash it all now seems pointless; you can look it up. Washington was fired in June 2007. Knight and Heigl asked to be written out of the show preemptively, in Seasons 5 and 6, respectively.

Vernoff and the other writers were watching the internal messes unfold. They had to deal with how the fallout affected the show’s plot, as when Washington was fired just as Burke, his character, was about to marry Cristina. “When word comes down that an actor is leaving the show, and what you’ve got scripted is a wedding …” Vernoff trails off, laughing.

“There was a lot of drama on-screen and drama off-screen, and young people navigating intense stardom for the first time in their lives,” she continues. “I think that a lot of those actors, if they could go back in time and talk to their younger selves, it would be a different thing. Everybody’s grown and changed and evolved — but it was an intense time.”

Pompeo doesn’t want to talk about what happened with individual actors from the show, because when she has in the past, “it doesn’t get received in the way in which I intend it to be.” But she does make a point about the way television is produced. “Nobody should be working 16 hours a day, 10 months a year — nobody,” she says. “And it’s just causing people to be exhausted, pissed, sad, depressed. It’s a really, really unhealthy model. And I hope post-COVID nobody ever goes back to 24 or 22 episodes a season.

“It’s why people get sick. It’s why people have breakdowns. It’s why actors fight! You want to get rid of a lot of bad behavior? Let people go home and sleep.”

Debbie Allen would eventually be Pompeo’s savior in that regard, but that was years away. Allen — an actor and a dancer — began her directing career when she was on the 1980s TV series “Fame” as a “natural progression” because, she says, “I was in charge of the musical numbers, and so many directors didn’t really know how to shoot them.” She went on to be a prolific director and producer, most notably overhauling NBC’s “A Different World” after a tumultuous first season. As a fan of “Grey’s Anatomy,” Allen wanted to work on the show, and in Season 6, she was hired to direct. To prepare for it, Allen shadowed Wilson, who had been tapped to direct by executive producer-director Rob Corn. (“He came to me and said, ‘You should direct,’” says Wilson, who has now helmed 21 episodes. “And I said, ‘OK.’ Because I didn’t know what else to say.”)

Directing that sixth-season episode led to Allen’s fruitful relationship with “Grey’s.” In Season 8, Rhimes wrote Allen into the show to play Catherine, a star surgeon, a love interest for Richard Webber (Pickens) and the mother of Jackson Avery (Jesse Williams). Ahead of Season 12 in 2015, Allen became the show’s EP/director. Her duties included hiring all of the directors, weighing in on scripts and casting, and, as Allen puts it, “minding that people feel good about themselves.” Several years before the revived #MeToo movement would lead to calls for systemic changes behind the camera in Hollywood, Allen set a goal of hiring 50% women directors. She also increased the number of Black men who directed “Grey’s” during her first season as executive producer, among them Denzel Washington. (When she sold him on it, she recounts, he said to her, “I’m going to say yes, Debbie Allen.”)

Pompeo and Allen are close. Allen began her new role the year after Dempsey left, “at a time when we were really broken,” Pompeo says. “And so much of our problems were perpetuated by bad male management. Debbie came in at a time when we really, really needed a breath of fresh air, and some new positive energy.”

Pompeo continues with a laugh: “Debbie really brought in a spirit to the show that we had never seen — we had never seen optimism! We had never seen celebration. We had never seen joy!”

According to Pompeo, Allen began advocating for her to have more humane hours — Fridays off (Pompeo: “And I was like, ‘What? What? Fridays off?’”) — and for the show to shoot 12-hour days maximum, and ideally no more than 10 hours (Pompeo: “And I was like, I love this woman.”).

Allen speaks affectionately about her bond with Pompeo. “Coming out of Boston, she’s so earthy and real in a way that you might not know,” Allen says. “There’s a sisterhood between us — I guess you would say it’s almost a Blackness that exists between us. And she’s part of our tribe.”

Allen has been a key member of the “Grey’s Anatomy” brain trust since Season 12, and two seasons later, Vernoff returned to run the show. She’d left at the end of Season 7, consulted on “Private Practice” for a few years, and then went to Showtime’s “Shameless” for five seasons. As her contract was set to expire, Rhimes asked Vernoff to lunch, and told her she wanted her to take over. “It felt like she was saying, ‘Hey, our kid needs you,’” Vernoff says.

Before accepting the offer, Vernoff had to catch up on the show. She had always written “Grey’s” as a romantic comedy, and what she saw on-screen during her binge was dark as hell — especially after Derek’s death. “If this show that you are currently making is the show that you want ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ to be,” she recalls telling Rhimes, “I am, in fact, not the right writer for it.” But Rhimes was insistent, saying it was time for a change after the mourning period for Derek.

Vanessa Delgado, who started as a production intern during the seventh season and has worked her way up to being lead editor and co-producer, says the show’s trajectory shifted when Vernoff came back — it was a return to the original, saucier tone of “Grey’s.” “We changed the music completely,” Delgado says. “The dialogue felt lighter and more fun, and wewere having fun again.”

That lightness will be difficult to maintain this year, of course, when, as Allen puts it, “COVID is No. 1 on the call sheet right now.”

Vernoff at first wondered whether “Grey’s” should ignore the coronavirus, thinking the audience comes to the show “for relief.” But the doctors in the writers’ room convinced her this wasn’t the time for escapism, saying to her, “This is the biggest medical story of our lifetime, and it is changing medicine permanently.”

When they’ve had doctors and nurses come speak with them this season, Vernoff says, “they were different human beings than the people we’ve been talking to every year. And I want to honor that, tonally. I just want to inspire people to take care of each other.”

Pompeo, who is not shy about offering criticism, sounds positively enthusiastic: “I’ll say the pilot episode to this season — girl, hold on.

“What nobody thinks we can continue to do, we have done. Hold on. That’s all we’re going to say about that!”

Pompeo has a few more months before she decides whether she wants to continue — and as Rhimes and ABC have made clear in recent years, the show will likely end when she leaves. “I don’t take the decision lightly,” Pompeo says. “We employ a lot of people, and we have a huge platform. And I’m very grateful for it.”

“You know, I’m just weighing out creatively what can we do,” she says. “I’m really, really, really excited about this season. It’s probably going to be one of our best seasons ever. And I know that sounds nuts to say, but it’s really true.”

Vernoff doesn’t worry about the creative well drying up. “We’ve blown past so many potential endings to ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ that I always assume it can go on forever,” she says.

And Wilson knows how important “Grey’s” is to its audience, in that the characters have essentially become people who “live in their house.” As one of only three actors who’ve been on “Grey’s” since the beginning — the other is James Pickens Jr. — Wilson is in it until the end: “In my mind, Bailey is there until the doors close, until the hospital burns down, until the last thing happens on ‘Grey’s Anatomy.’ That is her entire arc.”

Whenever the show does conclude, part of its legacy will be about the talent it launched into the world, beginning with Rhimes, who will soon release her first shows for Netflix, after her company, Shondaland, made a lucrative deal with the streamer in 2017.

But it will also be about the characters of “Grey’s Anatomy”— mostly women and people of color — who are trying to make the world a better place as they find friendship, love and community.

“The show, at its core, brings people together,” Pompeo says. “And the fact that people can come together and watch the show, and think about things they may not have ordinarily thought about, or see things normalized and humanized in a way that a lot of people really need to see — it helps you become a better human being. If this show has helped anybody become a better human being, then that’s the legacy I’d love to sit with.”

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

The Mistakes We Made - Chapter Sixteen

Summary:  When her high school girlfriend comes back to town after two years with a baby and a terrible story she won’t tell, the Librarian has to deal with the feelings she had worked so hard to keep at bay.

Notes: Wow. This is really happening. The final chapter. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take a moment to be That person and give a big, sincere thank you to everyone who has kept up with this fic, especially to the people who commented often and also those who reblogged the chapters. You helped me write what has become my favorite work. And the longest too! So thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy this one last chapter.

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9) (chpt10) (chpt11) (chpt12) (chpt13) (chpt14) (chpt15) (chpt16)

The months after that were relatively calm.

Johanna had said she wasn’t ready to be with someone again so soon, and honestly, Maven probably would have been confused if she was: she had been through too much. She surely needed some time to find herself again. So Maven had respected her wishes and gave her the distance she needed.

Well, it couldn’t quite be called distance. It was the furthest away she’d been from Johanna ever since they met each other, apart from those years when Torrin had gotten between them, but it was still quite close. Johanna had moved to a flat in Ericsonberg, that she had somehow managed to guilt trip her parents into renting for her, and Maven had helped in the moving, and during the whole process of coming back to college. Many teachers had been thrilled to have one of their most promising students back, and so were Johanna’s friends. From what Maven had been told, she had taken the chance to make peace with all the friends whom she’d distanced herself from because of Torrin.

During a part of the day, she’d leave Hilda at a daycare, or even let her parents take care of her for a few days, even though Maven thought they didn’t deserve to look after their granddaughter after what they’d done to Johanna. She hadn’t said that, though. What was going on in that family was Johanna’s business, and whatever decision she took about her daughter, Maven would respect.

Every other weekend, Johanna came to Trollberg and stayed in Maven’s house; they studied, and visited Trollberg’s many parks with the kid. Every other weekend, Maven stayed in Ericsonberg and stayed at Johanna’s flat; they studied and enjoyed the freedom of walking in a bigger town, where who they were and their past mattered to no one. Sometimes when Mr. Kavindi said he had no problem with her switching shifts with him, Maven even stayed over with Johanna in the middle of the week. She told herself that it was so that she could take care of Hilda a little for Johanna to study or rest for a while - gods knew how much effort she was making to keep up with Graphic Design and motherhood- but she knew it was also because now that Johanna was back in her life, she didn’t want to miss a moment. And if she was being honest to herself, she was growing very fond of little Hilda too.

The one thing that had been troubling them were the divorce papers; when he’d accepted that Johanna wasn’t coming back and began spreading lies, Torrin hadn’t thought about legal matters. But just after things between Johanna and Maven had settled down in Trollberg, she’d set the papers in motion. She wasn’t asking for much: just what had already belonged to her before the wedding possession wise. After all, Torrin was loved in their town, and had every means to pay for an amazing lawyer, while she was just the traitor. She didn’t want to ask for more than he’d find reasonable, in case he decided to take what she needed the most.

And in that aspect she had bid high; she had made it clear that she wanted full custody of Hilda.

Luckily, he hadn’t seemed to be putting a lot of effort into taking the girl from her. Practically no effort at all, truly, which was weird for a person trying to paint Johanna as a bitch who took his child away from him. It was bad acting on his part, but the two women were more than glad for it.

But even knowing this, they were still a pile of nerves when the day came that the judge would give his final verdict.

It was a warm summer day, and Johanna had chosen to spend the holidays in Trollberg. The two of them were in Maven’s living room, books scattered all over the dinning table, and Hilda was happily playing in her fence by their side.

They had agreed that they should both try to study as much as they could during this month they’d have without classes. After all, the routine was very frenzied, especially for Johanna, and if they could get ahead with some subjects and bonus points projects, that would probably make their life a lot easier once the classes started again.

However, it was clear the both of them were having a hard time focusing on their books when Hilda’s life was about to be decided.

“This isn’t working.” Maven stated, closing the book she was trying to make notes of and startling Johanna out of her reverie. “You keep getting distracted, Anna, and I’m not doing much better”

The woman inhaled deeply and nodded. “I know. But I’m only going to get worse if I’m not focusing on something else.”

“Do you want me to make you some tea? Or maybe we could play a board game?”

Johanna smiled at Maven’s attempts at helping, but it was filled with worry and exhaustion.

“I just want my baby, Maven.” She whispered, her throat tight and eyes watery. “What will I do if they take her away from me?”

Putting her hands on each of Johanna’s arms, Maven forced a look of determination into her eyes. “I don’t know, and we don’t have to know. We don’t even have to think about it, because it won’t happen. Hilda will stay with you and everything will be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” She asked tremulously.

“Because if the court is stupid, and I firmly believe they won’t be, we’ll run away to Iceland.” Maven deadpanned, squeezing her arms in an attempt to look more serious.

Johanna snorted despite her current state of anxiety. “Sounds like a solid plan. You’d run away to Iceland with me?”

“Of course. We’ll buy cattle and live on a farm house.”

“Can we have bees too?”

“I don’t see why not.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a second, maintaining their serious expressions before bursting out laughing. They cackled despite the tense situation they found themselves in, or maybe because of it. Sometimes, laughing was the only thing you could do to keep yourself together.

“Thanks for that, Maven.” Johanna thanked breathlessly as soon as she was able to. “I needed a good laugh.”

Maven dropped her hands to her lap, tilting her head to the side. “You think I joke? Please, Anna, you know I’d follow you to the end of the world.”

_#_#_#_

Thankfully, it hadn’t been necessary to run to the end of the world. The verdict came out not much later, causing Johanna so much euforia that she had run around the house screaming. Maven had curled herself into fetal position on the couch and laughed, part in joyful relief and part at Johanna’s excitement.

They had won, at least as much as they could have hoped for. Torrin had asked for a weekend every two months, and the court had obliged, but that’s as far as it went. For the most part, Hilda was all hers.

Johanna had still been crying and holding a very confused Hilda when Maven got up and headed for the attic. She only realized that Maven had left when she walked down the stairs holding a package bigger than her torso.

“This calls for a celebration.” She said when she noticed the curious look Johanna shot her. “I say we camp.”

So now they were at the park furthest away from the city center they knew of, in order to see the night sky better, lying inside a small tent that Maven said had been her father’s. Hilda was now sleeping inside her stroller (which they had also brought inside the tent) after having tried and failed to walk around for a whole hour. Maven dreaded to think of what would happen once this girl could run.

Despite the relatively warm night, Johanna and Maven cuddled closely as Maven pointed out constellations and narrated the myths and stories associated with them. They had brought a thermos bottle filled with coffee for them to share, and a piece of the cake Johanna had cooked the day before as well, the homely snack filling them with a cozy feeling.

By the time Maven was talking about how the Virgo constellation was said to have been born out of Demeter’s wish to honor and remember her daughter, Persephone, she realized that her tales were no longer holding Johanna’s attention. She turned her face and realized that the other woman had already been looking at her, a fond, lazy smile on her face.

“I love you.” Johanna said suddenly, making Maven’s heart begin thumping furiously in her chest and her eyes widen. She hadn’t said that ever since they had broken up.

“I love you too.” She answered, at first on instinct, but as the words left her mouth, she realized how unquestionably true they were. She didn’t think she’d ever stopped loving Johanna. She didn’t think she’d ever not loved Johanna.

“How do you feel about what we have now?” Johanna asked, searching into Maven’s eyes for an answer.

“I like it. I miss you, of course, but I understand that it’s probably temporary. I could try to find a job in Ericsonberg, or you could try to find a job here once we’re done with college. But regardless of that, we still make time for each other, so I can’t say I’m not happy with it.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? To always be running one place to another, to have to share attention with Hilda…”

Mave licked her lips. If this slow death was Johanna’s idea of telling her to stay away, than she’d been much kinder the first time around. And this is why she kept her calm. Johanna was nothing if not kind.

“Please, Hilda is much cooler than you.” Maven said, making Johanna roll her eyes playfully. “And hey, I said I would follow you to the end of the world, didn’t I? A thirty minute ride is not what’s going to keep me away.”

Johanna’s eyes shone more than the stars before them as she raised a hand to Maven’s neck, using her thumb to caress her jaw.

“In this case.” She said as she got even closer. “I think I’m ready for a relationship again. Maven, will you be my girlfriend?”

Nothing in the world would have been able to stop her from saying yes.

[dailyaudiobible]

11/22/2018 DAB Transcript

Ezekiel 44:1-45:12, 1 Peter 1:1-12, Psalms 119:17-32, Proverbs 28:8-10

Today is the 23rd day of November. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and it's a pleasure and an honor to be here with you today. And, I guess, traditionally this is the beginning of the holiday season, black Friday. And, so I guess we can say it's the most wonderful time of the year. And thankfully the rhythm of our year takes us right through the most wonderful time of the year and we just continue to take steps forward, which is what we'll do today, of course, because it’s what we do every day. We’re reading from the Good News Translation this week. Ezekiel chapter 45 verse 13 through 46 verse 24.

Introduction to First Peter:

Okay. So, as promised at the beginning we find ourselves being reunited today with an old friend, the apostle Peter. And, of course, we’ve had plenty of opportunity to observe the personality and character of Peter throughout the Gospels and, of course, in the book of Acts and we've experienced his passion in action but we’ll now hear that passion in written form in the letter we know as 1 Peter. So, let’s talk about where we’re headed. Simon or Simeon was Peter's actual given name but by the time that that he had become a part of the inner circle of Jesus, Jesus had given him the name Cephas, which in Aramaic means rock. And, so, when the Aramaic language is translated into the Greek language than the word Cephas becomes Petros. And, so, there. Now we can see the origins of the English biblical name Peter. And Peter’s story is certainly one of redemption, is certainly one of absolute transformation. It’s hard for us to forget his lowest moment when he denied Jesus three times in Caiaphas's courtyard. And from there we followed Peter all the way to the upper room where tongues of fire hovered over those awaiting the coming Holy Spirit. And after that Peter was different. He was empowered with an anointing and a boldness and we’re still feeling the impact of that today, both from the witness of his life in the Gospels in the book of Acts and from the writings that we’re about to read. So, Peter says in his letter that he's writing from Babylon and although there's plenty of conjecture, the general consensus among biblical scholars is that he was probably referring to Rome. And incidentally, most biblical scholars would make the same parallel with the book of Revelation. When Babylon is referred to it is likely referring to Rome. So, with that in mind 1 Peter it is generally dated from the early to mid-60s A.D., somewhere within the vicinity of time that the apostle Paul was first released from prison. And the letter was written to God's chosen people who are living as foreigners in the provinces of Pontus and Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia. These were five provinces of the Roman Empire and they're all now located within modern-day Turkey. Peter used the term “God's chosen people who are living as foreigners” because this had been something that was well understood in Jewish culture. Those living as foreigners or the diaspora were those who had been scattered all over the world in different exiles and in terms of first Peter, most recently those would have been fleeing from persecution because of their faith. So, there's a little context, but first Peter is a forthright letter. If James kicked our butt, first Peter is pretty forthright too and it packs its own wallop, but under underneath all of it is a letter that's written actually to encourage, to bolster, to lift up those who are suffering because of their faith and to be a reminder, a beacon, to remind them of the glorious hope for those who do endure. So, if we’re still kind of smarting from James we’re about to get a second helping of straight talk as we begin the first letter of Peter and today we'll read chapter 1 verses 1 through 12.

Commentary:

Okay. So, even though the postures that the apostle Peter is writing about in his first letter, which we’re reading, even though those things are intended to be lived out every day, we mind find it, what's being said is particularly relevant to the time of year we’re moving into now. I mean, because this is the time that our schedules start to fill, right, and they fill with joyful festivities but it's…along with all of that comes plenty of challenges, right? The rest of our year kind of gets disrupted. And in that disruption, we may find ourselves like feeling that something's missing or fighting for our place, right, whether we’re fighting for a parking spot at the mall, which some of you probably are today, or within the family dynamics that arise around the holidays. And Peter gives us counsel in advance out in front of things on how to face trying times like these. So, quoting Peter, “Be obedient to God and do not allow your lives to be shaped by those desires you had when you were still ignorant. Instead be holy in all that you do just as God called you is holy Scripture. The scripture says be holy because I am holy.” So, obviously Peter’s not talking about holidays in the 21st century, he was talking about the shape of our everyday lives but since we’re headed into one of the most uniquely stressful times of the year, the counsel becomes immediately available. I mean…just…we read a lot of words today but if we just remember these, “you must be holy because I am holy”, right? That can be a rescue when we’re absolutely exhausted, when were emotionally spent, when we’re pulled into challenging environments, when we’re rubbing up against all kinds of stuff that just comes at this time year. Because often when we’re stressed out, right, we’re trying to find ways to cope and we’re overwhelmed and. And, so, we move toward trying to be in control…we try to control the environment, or we become incredibly opinionated or we become extremely judgmental. And, ironically this isn't a new 21st century phenomenon among human beings. On the heels of Peter's encouragement to live holy lives he had this to say, “You call him Father, when you pray who God judges all people by the same standard according to what each one is done.” So, we have to remember that we are each individually on a journey with God, especially in these stressful times like the holidays. None of us have been appointed that the spiritual judge over our peers or our family. God will handle it and He is impartial because He knows what's really going on. So, in instead, Peter offered an alternative thought that relieves us of our control and returns us to a place of gratitude. And here's how he says it, “Now by your obedience to the truth you have purified your selves and have come to have a sincere love for other believers, love one another earnestly with all your heart. For through the living and eternal word of God you have been born again as the children of a parent who is immortal, not mortal.” So, to be able to achieve or to live into this kind of love, even in spite of the stressful times, Peter goes on, “Rid yourselves then of all evil. No more lying or hypocrisy or jealousy or insulting language.” And oddly these are the kinds of behaviors we get pulled toward around the holidays when things are starting to fray, right, when it's all starting to get to us. So, we can lavish gifts upon people while simultaneously being deceitful, hypocritical, jealous and full of all kinds of unkind things to say. And this is not unlike James observation that God can be worshiped, and His creations can be cursed out of the same mouth. And he had something to say about it and we should remember, “Surely my brothers and sisters, this is not right.” And the same conclusion applies to what Peter is saying. And then from our reading today, lastly, Peter gives us the “why” of all of this in a stunning reminder of who we really are, “you” and this is quoting Peter, “you are the chosen race, the Kings priests, the holy nation, God's own people chosen to proclaim the wonderful acts of God who called you out of darkness into His own marvelous light.” And we have to acknowledge that the seasons we are entering is centered around that that absolute truth. Like all around the world we’ll begin to consider the arrival of the Savior who has called us out of darkness. And maybe this is the first time you’re realizing just how close to Christmas we are with all that’s just happening around us this week. Let's carry into the season with us this reminder, something that we can continually tell ourselves. “You must be holy, for I am holy.” Let's bring that into a season that celebrates the coming of the Holy Child and just allow that, that reminder of holiness and the invitation that we are being given to be holy and carry that into this season and let it shape our experience and be an influence for our decisions because we always have a choice. We can do good.

Prayer:

Father, we invite you into this, this what we’re talking about. We must be holy because you are holy and we certainly invite you into that because we can’t be holy on our own. We need to interact and collaborate to be intertwined with you. So, come, Holy Spirit. But we also pray over this coming season, out in front of us now, of joy and celebration that brings tremendous challenges to certain lives in all kinds of ways. We need you. Come, Holy Spirit we pray into the days ahead we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here.

And today is Black Friday and…well…I talked about it a couple of days ago but that means that the Daily Audio Bible Family Christmas Box for 2018 is now available and it is packed full of things that you’ll want to keep for yourself and things that you’ll want to give away. And this year's Christmas Box is a good one. We have the Promise Land double DVD set that is always popular around here because…well…frankly it allows us to go in with a window and look around basically at the places that we have visited so often in the Scriptures. And double DVD set has over four hours of content to just really, really immerse yourself in the land of the Bible. So, that is in the Christmas Box. We’ve also included the last two books that I've written, the first one called Reframe in the second one called Sneezing Jesus. And these are both books of spiritual transformation. They are…I mean…literally when I sit down to write, I'm writing because I feel like I don’t have a choice…like I've reached a point of wrestling that I need to begin to put things on paper, that's where things start. But in my heart and in my mind, I'm always writing toward someone and that someone is our community. So, if you have been taking the journey through the Bible and haven’t taken the journey through Reframe or Sneezing Jesus, they’re in the Christmas Box this year. And man I wrote it, so, it's hard for me to say you really should read this, but I wrote it to be read by our community, people who are hungry for the Scriptures and are truly pressing in to the relationship with God that is offered through Jesus and actually trying to live this faith and actually allowing this faith to transform us. I’ve written these things that journey. So, both of those are included in the Christmas Box. And one additional book called “Going Solo”, written by my friend Robert. And it is about the solo parenting journey. There are plenty of single parents in this community, but there's probably none of us that don't have a single parent in our lives. And Robert went through a season of being a single dad under some pretty dire circumstances. And he shares this story. So, but it’s not just like a book of commiseration or a book of tips and tricks. Like, it's not…it's exactly what a single parent who is overwhelmed needs to hear with no one expecting anything in return. It's just pouring life into a tattered soul. So, if you are on the solo parent journey then, yeah, this for you. But if you’re not, you know someone and this is for them. We also have our Daily Audio Bible Christmas cards for this year and they’re very beautiful and they have the word for the year imprinted on the front, “Hope”. So, there’s 20 cards and 20 envelopes in the Christmas Box. You can order the cards…like if you send out more than 20, you can order your Christmas cards from Daily Audio Bible. They're not big advertisements for the Daily Audio Bible. They say Daily Audio Bible on the back, like where Hallmark is…would usually be. That's it. But they are a fantastic way to invite your friends and family along for the journey with you in the coming year. So, yes there’s a pack of 20 of those in the Christmas Box but you can order as many of them as you want separately at the Daily Audio Bible Shop. And we’ll talk about that in the second. Also included is the Daily Audio Bible Christmas bulb for 2018. And I think this is the seventh year we've done this. Of course, the word “Hope” is on Christmas bulb. And I have a one of these for every year that we've been doing it and it goes up on the tree every year and I look at that little place on the tree, and it reminds me of all the journeys, all the miles, all the words, all the life that goes into a year of the Bible. So, that reminds me of all the journeys we’ve taken and just brings you into our home. And I know that that's become a tradition for many of you and that's true for you as well. So, the Christmas ball is in the Christmas Box. Also, we’re lovers of the Black Wing pencils and we have those in the Daily Audio Bible shop with all of our writing paraphernalia, which by the way, those writing kits are awesome Christmas gifts. So, you can check that out. But this year we were able to work along with our friends at Black Wing and get the Daily Audio Bible imprinted on some pencils. We’re not allowed to sell them like in boxes of 12 or as individuals but we’re allowed to put them in the Christmas Box. And, so, there’s is a Black Wing Daily Audio Bible, one-of-a-kind, in the Christmas Box this year. And then, of course, your choice of our Windfarm coffee or our Windfarm boutique tea. And lastly, a surprise, a mystery. And everybody will get the mystery, but everybody won’t get the same mystery, but one additional resource of some sort will be in the Box this year. So that's the Daily Audio Bible Family Christmas 2018. It's a good one and it's available now on the Daily Audio Bible Shop. So that's at dailyaudiobible.com and then you click Shop and you'll see the Christmas section and you’ll find all the stuff. Of course, you can access the shop from the Daily Audio Bible app as well. So, we always sell out of these. I recommend if you want one that you get one sooner than later. Those of you who are outside of the domestic United States, including our neighboring nations of Canada and Mexico, the cutoff date for us and kinda feeling confident that everything would arrive for Christmas, is the 28th of November, which is less than a week. So, if you're international and you'd like this to arrive for Christmas, then I wouldn't delay. We will send them, of course, after the 28th internationally, but not sure the gonna arrive in time for Christmas. So, don't delay on that. If you're inside the United States then, you know, there’s a little more time but wouldn't wait, they sell out every year. So, check all of that out in the Daily Audio Bible shop. It's Christmas time. Here we go.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible here as we approach the end of the year, then obviously, I can't thank you enough. My humble gratitude is beyond my words because every day that we sit down to come together like this is another day that we've done something in collaboration with God and His word, but also in community together. We just wouldn't be here if we didn’t do it together. So, thank you. There’s a link on the homepage of dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

hi, my name is Gwen Kavune and this is my first time calling the Daily Audio Bible. Today is November 19, 2018. I am so glad to be a part of the daily audio Bible. I really love hearing Brian and his commentary on the Bible each day. I’ve been listening for…since late in October and I really, really enjoy listening to the commentary, like I said. This is such a great venue for hearing the word and it’s great for me to because I am blind. So, this is a great way for me to hear the word of God. And hearing the prayer…being able to have a place to leave a prayer request is great. And to have other people agreeing with you and prayer is a great thing. I love having that available to me and having other believers out there supporting and encouraging me. That is so great. And I enjoy hearing from others and I enjoy…I’m sorry…I enjoy the poetry from Blind Tony. You do a wonderful job. Your gifted…

This is Judy and Steve in Salt Lake and this call is for Christine with the bumpy dog. Christine, we heard your call, not the first one, but the last one __ and we just want you to know that we are praying for you and we’re sending you a virtual hug. And I would’ve called sooner but I couldn’t talk. Just know we love you and we’re praying for the peace that passes all understanding for you, for healing according to God’s will. Whatever comes next, we pray that you are strong and that you know His love for you is never-ending. And we pray this in Jesus’ precious name. Amen.

Hi everyone, it’s Karen in St. Louis. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for all your prayers for my 60th. Got a couple of texts from Marlene that were so encouraging and Shannon from Salem, your song your prayers and Josh from Indiana, your prayers were just like from God for my heart and I’m so grateful. I’m grateful for this community and am so grateful for Brian, Jill, and the family that’s answered the call. And I’m most grateful to Jesus who is the author and perfecter of our faith. And He’s our ultimate hope. And, so, Brian, I loved your commentary today on James and talking about the faith and works and then also going into our tongues. All these things that we’re going through in most of the fall, I think about Paula and the devastation that you’ve incurred and Christine with the bumpy dog, my heart goes out to you sister. And, so many others, you know. But this kind of encouraged me because we are on a journey. And in Hebrews 12:1 it says, Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. And I just think about how it is constantly just looking to Jesus. And I thought about what you said Brian, at the family reunion, and about how you said that you never felt so close to the Lord is when you are suffering. So, brothers and sisters, take heart in this Thanksgiving where we give thanks to Jesus. I love you all. Bye-bye.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family, this is Becky from Orlando. I am calling in right now for Paula the child advocate. I just heard that you lost her home. I am so, so, so sorry that that happened in the wildfires. I hadn’t heard your original call and, of course, my eyes started tearing up when I heard that. I’m so sorry for your Paula. I’m gonna keep you in my prayers for you to find a house and some temporary housing in the meantime and just for some comfort. So, I’ve got you in my prayers and I’ve also got Christine with the bumpy dog in my prayers also. I’m praying for God’s healing touch on you for the chemotherapy to do its thing and to heal you and for you to find relief and for you to be able to get back home. So, I’ll keep you both in my prayers and I love you all very much. All right. Have a good day. Bye-bye.

[love-god-forever]

I Stop Being a Slave to Money and Live Happily

By Shixing, Malaysia

When I was young, my father, a compulsive gambler, lost all of the family’s money and fell in debt to loan sharks. As a result, our family of three started living like vagabonds and was looked down upon by our relatives and friends. So I made a resolution: After growing up, I will strive hard to earn money to change my family’s difficult circumstances so that my family will lead an abundant life and all those around us will look at us in a new light.

The Days When I Was Endlessly Busy in Pursuit of Money

At the age of sixteen, while attending school I did part-time jobs, selling things in a mall, brewing coffee in a coffee shop, washing dishes in a restaurant, and so on. Sometimes, I had blood blisters on my hands from so much work, and they even felt itchy because of an allergy. But to get more money, I was unwilling to give up and willing to do any job that offered a salary.

When I was eighteen years old, I dropped out of school to work in a factory. I worked 12 hours every day, and to get more overtime pay, I never had a day off on holidays, even on New Year’s Day. Besides, I alternated between day and night shifts every month. Because of lack of sleep, I felt drowsy and nearly had car accident several times on my way home from work. Although working like this tired me out, when I got my salary at the end of the month, it gave me great happiness and I felt all the tiredness and pain was worth it.

Later, through significant effort, I was promoted to team leader, then manager, then top executive, and my salary went up as well. I not only was able to pay back my father’s debts, but was also able to buy a house of my own. After achieving my dream, however, I wasn’t as happy as I had expected, for I thought that having a house was not a big deal, and that I still couldn’t be counted as a rich person. Then I began to plan to buy a car and start my own family. Several years later, I finally had my family of three. The increasing daily expenses, plus the car and mortgage loans, caused me to have greater financial commitments, and brought more and more pressure on me. So, my yearning for wealth grew rapidly. In addition, my wife thought that wealth could bring us security. Therefore, I had to exert myself more to make money. However, the pressures of both work and life made me clinically depressed, and so I could only take a break from work to stay at home, not wanting to face any person or thing. Despite this, my desire to make money didn’t weaken in the slightest. After a period of time, I bit the bullet and went back to work. Meanwhile, I started spending time and effort trying various means to earn money, studying and making all kinds of investments.

In November 2016, I joined an investment company. After much effort, I was quickly promoted to be a junior leader as well as a lecturer, I had my own team, and moreover, I received a high, stable salary. As my wallet became full of cash, I often took my family to eat nice food and play with nice things, and then posted the pictures we took on social media sites to show off. My relatives and friends began to cast looks of envy upon me, and often sought from me how to gain success. This made me feel that my status improved immediately and that I was respected and dignified. I thought, “Money really makes a difference!”

To have connections with more people, my company often arranged for me to attend lectures abroad where those I came into contact with were all billionaires or multimillionaires. Seeing that they all drove a nice car and wore name brands, I was consumed with envy and hoped to be as rich as them in the future, thinking that was true success. On top of that, during the lectures, we were inculcated with such thoughts as, “Money rules supreme” and “Being rich is the symbol of success.” Under the influence of these thoughts, my desire to pursue money became even stronger.

Feeling Pain Though Having Made Some Money

Through contacting with these rich people, gradually I found that most of what they talked about was their worries, such as marital betrayal, broken families, having no one to confide to, and so on, and that they attended some lectures on soul comforting in order to get rid of negative emotions and attain spiritual comfort. I was greatly shocked at this, thinking to myself, “They possess so much wealth, so by rights they should be happy and joyful. So why are they afflicted with so much pain and vexation? Could it be that material wealth cannot satisfy man’s spiritual needs?” At that time, I was constantly busy with my work, so I spent less and less time with my family. My daughter complained that I always went abroad for work, and my wife also complained about my not having enough time for her, which brought constant conflicts between the two of us. This made me feel upset and miserable: “Isn’t my working hard to make money for the sake of letting you live a better, abundant life? Why don’t you show any consideration for me?” In every quarrel, I would swallow up my anger and suppress my emotions. Sometimes, I felt so painful, and I would watch a movie alone and eat dessert to reduce pressure. Late at night when all was quiet, I would feel extremely empty and lonely. I often reflected: Why after all does man live this life? Why don’t I live happily but feel so miserable after having money? Yet no one could give me the answers.

Gaining a New Understanding of “Money Makes the World Go Round”

In September 2017, I was fortunate enough to accept God’s work of the last days. I watched a film of experience and testimony entitled Woe or Blessing, whose protagonist’s experience was very similar to mine. Because she came from a poor family, from an early age she was determined to make a lot of money. After she grew up, she began working in a medicine factory, then sold vegetables and fruits; after getting married, she started a restaurant business and later crossed the ocean to work abroad. In the end, she got ill through overwork and her health hit rock bottom. This touched me deeply. I came to feel that man’s life was the most important thing and that all the money in the world couldn’t buy health. Later, I saw the following passage of God’s words, “‘Money makes the world go round’ is the philosophy of Satan and it prevails among the whole of mankind, among every human society. You could say that it is a trend because it has been imparted to everyone and is now affixed in their heart. People went from not accepting this saying to growing used to it so that when they came into contact with real life, they gradually gave tacit approval to it, acknowledged its existence and finally, they gave it their own seal of approval. Isn’t this process that of Satan corrupting man? … So after Satan uses this trend to corrupt people, how is it manifested in them? Don’t you feel that you couldn’t survive in this world without any money, that even one day would just be impossible? People’s status is based on how much money they have as is their respectability. The backs of the poor are bent in shame, while the rich enjoy their high status. They stand tall and proud, speaking loudly and living arrogantly. What does this saying and trend bring to people? Don’t many people see getting money as being worth any cost? Don’t many people sacrifice their dignity and integrity in the pursuit of more money? Don’t many more people lose the opportunity to perform their duty and follow God for the sake of money? Isn’t this a loss for people? (Yes.) Isn’t Satan sinister to use this method and this saying to corrupt man to such a degree? Isn’t this a malicious trick?”

From God’s words, I understood that phrases such as “Money is first,” “Money isn’t everything, but without it, you can do nothing” and “Money makes the world go round” are all erroneous thinking and perspectives instilled in us by Satan and that its purpose is to make us pay any price in pursuit of riches, thus straying away from God and finally losing God’s salvation. I started to think of how the influence of such erroneous thinking and perspectives had made me believe money could change everything, so much so that I had been struggling hard for it: I began working in my youth suffering all kinds of pain and torment, even nearly had a car accident and was afflicted with depression at one time. Despite this, I still painstakingly studied how to start a business and make investments, hoping to possess more money some day and enjoy an excellent material life. After I got some money, I was still not content and as my desire grew ever greater, I longed to become a multimillionaire or billionaire. Due to spending all day on work, I even had no time to be with my family and completely became a slave to money. Finally, I had my wish granted when I received some money, but I wasn’t happy within, and instead I felt physically and mentally exhausted, empty and miserable; the peace in my family was also broken. Then I thought of those rich people who studied together with me. Although they led a brilliant and enviable life, marital betrayal and complexed interpersonal relationships brought them endless worries and pain. This reminded me of what Solomon, the richest king, said in the Bible, “I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit” (Ecclesiastes 1:14). The facts were indeed as described. Money can’t bring us happiness but only emptiness and suffering.

I saw more of God’s words, “When one has no God, when one cannot see Him, when one cannot clearly recognize God’s sovereignty, every day is meaningless, worthless, miserable. Wherever one is, whatever one’s job is, one’s means of living and the pursuit of one’s goals bring one nothing but endless heartbreak and irrelievable suffering, such that one cannot bear to look back. Only when one accepts the Creator’s sovereignty, submits to His orchestrations and arrangements, and seeks true human life, will one gradually break free from all heartbreak and suffering, shake off all the emptiness of life.” From God’s words, I realized that the root cause of why I felt empty and miserable was that I lacked knowledge of how God rules, had no correct outlook on life, and blindly pursued wealth. Now I became aware that what I needed was not money but coming before God and receiving the truth from Him. Without God and understanding the truth, I would be unable to deal with my family, marriage, and complicated interpersonal relationships; no matter how much money I got, life would still be hollow and fraught with suffering. Coming to this realization, I was no longer willing to pursue wealth or material enjoyment, and all I wanted to do was believe earnestly in God, pursue the truth, obey God’s orchestrations and arrangements, and live out a meaningful life.

Ceasing Pursuing Money, Following God Easily

From then on, I actively attended gatherings, read God’s words, and also did all I could to perform my duty within the church. Gradually, I came to understand some truths and see that what the lecturers instilled in us was all Satan’s life philosophies, which would only cause me to belong to the world more and more and be farther away from God. However, due to the requirements of my work, I had to go to lectures to receive training as my boss assigned. Moreover, I had to go against my will in teaching my team Satan’s life philosophies, which I thought didn’t accord with God’s will. Besides, I was too busy to go to gatherings regularly, much less focus on performing my duty. All this made me feel very indebted to God, but I was unwilling to give up the steady, high-paying job. For this reason, I was extremely distressed and I had no idea what to do. Therefore, I talked with a sister about my condition.

Then she sent me a passage of God’s words, “If I were to now place some riches in front of you and ask you to choose freely, knowing that[a] I would not condemn you, then most would choose the riches and forsake the truth. The better among you would give up the riches and reluctantly choose the truth, while those in between would seize the riches in one hand and the truth in the other. In this way, would your true colors not be self-evident? When choosing between the truth and anything to which you are loyal, you will all make such a decision, and your attitude will remain the same. Is that not so? Are there not many among you who fluctuated between right and wrong? In contests between positive and negative, black and white, you are surely aware of the choices that you made between family and God, children and God, peace and disruption, riches and poverty, status and commonness, being supported and being cast aside, and so on. … Many years of dedication and effort has apparently brought Me only resignation and your despair of Me. Yet My hopes for you grow with each passing day, for My day has already been completely laid out before every one. However, you continue to seek that which belongs to the darkness and evil, and refuse to loosen your hold. As such, what will be your outcome?” After I finished reading God’s words, tears streamed down my face. I suddenly realized that God simply had no place in my heart because it had been occupied with money and material desires. I always gave priority to my marriage, career, family, and money rather than God. I was someone who simply did not love the truth. God’s work is nearing its end, and now is the crucial moment for pursuing the truth and performing duties. Yet, to live a lavish lifestyle, I still clung to money, unwilling to ever let go. I was so busy with work every day that I failed to have gatherings normally, much less fulfill my duty as a created being. If I continued believing in God like this, then I would be unable to obtain the truth or achieve salvation. Instead, I would be swallowed by Satan due to following its evil trends. I thought: “In the past when I had no God, I only knew to work hard all day for wealth, thus living in emptiness and misery without comfort or joy inside. Now, I have the good fortune to come to God’s family, enjoy the supply and watering of God’s words, and have the opportunity for salvation. I can’t let God down. I must seek the truth and become someone who is approved by God.” Afterward, I quit the high-paying job and simply handled negligible investments to make a living. Thus, I had more time to go to meetings and fulfill my duty.

Now, although my life isn’t so rich, I feel peaceful and steady in the deeps of my heart because when encountering difficulties and problems, by relying on God, seeking the truth and getting the provision of God’s words, I am able to resolve them easily. It’s the greatest blessing in my life to be able to hear God of the last days speak out and meet face-to-face with Him. I’m willing to cherish this blessing. In the following days, I will pursue the truth in earnest, walk the right way of life, and become someone who is approved by God. All glory and praise be to God!

Footnotes:

1. The original text does not contain the phrase “knowing that.”

[adventures-of-mum]

Some things I’ve learnt

I’ve not written for a while. There is always plenty to say about this still new and joyful world of parenting but there is perhaps less of an emotional mess to untangle in words, and less time to spend writing about the pleasure of it all when you’re so busy enjoying your one year old and then falling into a Masterchef induced comatose state on the sofa five minutes after he’s gone to sleep every evening.

Perhaps this is a promise to myself to make the time to write more, or perhaps the words will come when they need to, and that’s OK too.

For now though, I’ve some thoughts on the new c(19) word, being pregnant and then becoming a parent. It’s not a comparison of any kind- to state the obvious a global health pandemic resulting in the deaths of many and the kind of world-wide upheaval most of us have never known until this point, is not the same as becoming a parent, being pregnant, or in fact anything else. Rather, I think there a few lessons I have learnt over the last couple of years that I’m finding to be relevant and true now, at a different time. Similarities in the circumstances I find myself in, but for very different reasons.

Lets start with the first trimester. It may have also had something to do with a holiday where I found out I was pregnant leading into a full on work trip, an overnight flight leading straight into my sister’s hen do, a full working week in a heatwave leading into a wedding where I catered the first night’s party and did set up and take down until Midnight the next; but I found the first twelve weeks of pregnancy utterly, mind-bendingly, exhausting. Luckily, Wimdbledon was on and Mark does a great line in washing up buckets filled with cool water for tired achey feet, so I settled easily and comfortably into the first major life change; I was no longer out and about most evenings, ticking off sports activities, cultural adventures and countless meals and drinks with friends. The diary emptied. I made very few plans. I became very friendly with the sun drenched corner of our sofa. And I surprised myself at how much I enjoyed this new state, where life felt closer and smaller and comfier than I had imagined it would, when pregnancy ‘stopped me’ doing things that I’d always done.

I started an Instagram account @adventuresofmum shortly before Lorcan’s birth because life once more felt close and local and I wanted to notice and appreciate that.When I didn’t feel very energetic I stayed in; this was when I stared up and saw the shadow of a house plant on the ceiling and took time to look at its shape, the light and the colour. I realised you didn’t have to go very far to find beauty or things to capture your curiosity, interest or admiration.

Birth itself was a lesson in letting go; a physical letting go (I trusted my body, which had grown a baby whilst I’d sat on the sofa and eaten salt and vinegar crisps, to birth one too) and a mental one too; an understanding that plans or preferences are useful (of course they are) but its best not to put all your eggs in one birthing suite basket- or it just makes it harder when things change. You can still have good, positive, empowering experiences but not necessarily in the way you had hoped for. And that is OK.

When Lorcan arrived the world both grew and shrunk in a way it never had before. Love, infinite now, in its size and scale, deeper and wider and bigger than I could have ever imagined. An expanse of feeling and emotion that was all new. At the same time, a smaller physical world than I had ever experienced. I didn’t leave the house more than once in the first ten days of his life. I didn’t have a long to do list or people to see or professional accountability; I had a few big things that mattered, that were important and that required my energy, my efforts, my presence (real presence, not just being in the room) and my love.

Over a year later, and I have become very used to living my days with mostly one person, sometimes two people, for company. It is joyful company, where you delight in each other because you have the time and space to do so; to really try to understand each other and to take pleasure from the smallest things (I’m thinking of laughter at the sound of a pop or a ping, intense curiosity regarding the buttons on the washing machine which also gives me time to cook some nice food, or a stroll round our tiny garden which takes half an hour by the time we’ve smelt all the different smells and discussed whether it’s really a good idea to try to drink the stagnant water from the watering can).

When we do go out in the week, it tends to be to the park, to a music or play session, to the shops, or on a particularly jazzy day when I decide to forgo the chance to have a nice rest during a nap, perhaps we go to a museum or gallery or to meet Daddy or someone else for lunch. The point is, we always get fresh air and we always spend time with people we love, but we don’t often go too far, and that is more than fine. It’s harder when it rains, there’s no doubt about it, but we can learn to love that too if we don’t already- splashing in puddles, staring at reflections of ourselves or trees or buildings in rainwater just a few metres from our front door, or following raindrops down the window with our fingers.

Much of this surrendering to ‘the now’ has also been part of a process of understanding what one can and cannot control. There is so much beyond our control, including when pregnant, during birth and as a parent. This can be totally overwhelming and anxiety inducing; it’s what we do with that anxiety and what we do next that makes a difference. I have done my best to embrace these changes to my life, some of which I chose and I knew were coming and others that I didn’t predict and have shocked or surprised me.

So: - a lack of control over where life appears to be taking you, where you have to carve out and distinguish what you can control and what you have to try to let go of - a physical shrinking of one’s world, but… - (hopefully) a new understanding and appreciation of all the things you still have (e.g. my health), can still do (e.g. eat nice food, be with family, get fresh air), or are new to you now (who knew your home could also be a restaurant, a soft play centre, a children’s music class, a gym, a spa, an office, and lets face it, a comedy club?)   - limits- or shall we say changes- to the things you can do, the places you can go, and the ease with which you do most of the things you used to do without even thinking - the need to ask for other people’s help and to accept it, whilst being kind to yourself for doing so (thank you again to those midwives, and thank you now to anyone doing other people’s shopping for them) - spending a lot of time with a few key people in a small space and learning how to do this with patience and kindness even when you’re knackered and stressed - a coming to terms, quickly (hopefully), of a new way of living and of being, and finally... - a sharp focus which reminds you what, and who, is really important

Any of that sound familiar?

I am not a perfect student (that would be boring) and these times are tough, but these are the lessons I feel I’ve been learning since discovering I was pregnant, giving birth and most days since, and ones I’ve heard echoed from by other mums and dads too. We’re all in this together, for the long haul, and I’m hoping this list will remind me, and hopefully a few others too, that we are more resilient than we ever really feel or know.

Final lesson learnt- always have a spare bottle of wine in the cupboard. I’m off for a glass now. Cheers!  

[maryandevie]

2019 In Review...

In January I learned that sleep will never be the same, that motherhood is difficult, and that growing our family by one sweet person -half Kevin, half Mary- is both the most love fulfilling and life draining thing we’ve done yet.

In February I learned to fight for the things that you and your family need and that sisters are the most incredible kinds of friends. I also learned that snow days are sent from God to moms who need them.

In March I learned that food is fuel, going out and feasting well is good, and even more about sisterhood and it’s lasting permanent deep and healing impact on my soul.

In April I learned about my sons squishy and smiley personality. That sleep will be something we look back on as a thing we gave up by having children. I learned that introducing food to your baby can be hell and not magical discovery and that Virginia is warm and swampy almost always.

In May I learned just how sweet of friends my husband and sister are and how special they can make an anxious mama feel on her birthday. I experienced the joy of the new sacraments and the vitality my life receives when I reconnect yet again with friends who are like sisters in a little hotel room for a weekend, babies and all.

In June I learned to mother on my own two feet and soak up the rest and snuggles before the marathon of summer continued. I learned that being a working mom full time is not for me and I’m blessed to have the flexibility to be with my baby more often than not. This is a luxury.

In July I learned that the beauty of marriage vows said by your dearest friends do not get old and that traveling with a baby is an exhausting accomplishment that takes approximately six times as long to recover from.

In August I learned that sister in laws make the very best friends and that you are rarely alone when you are struggling. I learned to be more open and honest and that nieces and nephews are sweet sweet gifts.

In September I learned to navigate my new part time teaching role but back with my first class of students. Seventh grade is a dream and they give me more life and joy than they will ever know.

In October I planned the most epic first birthday for my firstborn and soaked up the feeling of wanting to give every little thing I have to give to celebrate my one year old best friend.

In November I learned to miss dearly spontaneous dates with my Husband and that time with him can’t be taken for granted. I learned that the holidays can bring out the worst in people and that it’s ok to plan for my own family sometimes and worry simply about what’s best for us three. I also learned that one night a month reading great literature with some amazing moms is literally everything I needed to keep up this motherhood thing.

In December I have failed at embracing the lessons of peace in the chaos of moving, traveling, teaching, partying, cleaning and mothering all at once.

The holidays have been different this year. The magic of wanting them perfect and having a vision for what they will be has shifted and to be truthful I’m not

Handling this lack of control well at all. Everything about visiting different families and groups of family and adjusting and traveling while prioritizing everything my son and husband need has drained me in a way that’s left me a bit bitter and cross. What’s ironic is that I’m Unbelievably grateful for the things that make what was my favorite time of year now wildly stressful and somewhat difficult to enjoy. My husband and son are the honest to God joys of my life. They are everything that makes me my truest most joyful self. So I wonder if part of motherhood is now sacrificing my idealistic Christmas for the mess that is our lives because in return I really do have everything I’ve dreamed of. I can certainly live with that reality however my adjustment has not and will not be a graceful one.

In 2020 I want to cast out and renounce the anxieties that fill me. I want to pray for a stronger more transparent leadership in the church and healing from the hurt of the past. I want to remember that each person I encounter is loved by Christ and that I’m called to do the same. I want to seek more healing in my life so that the foundation of my young marriage can reap the benefits of my wholeness (or at least my pursuit of it.) I want to sacrifice more gracefully for my family and remember that I’ve truly been called to this life and that it is a gift to struggle through it.

[hollyrosemassage]

ABSTRACT “I come up within the morning torn between the will to enhance the world and a need to benefit from the world. This makes it exhausting to plan the day”, E.B.White. INTRODUCTION: Now days, each profitable individual undergoes a significant downside on this world. That’s handle his skilled success with private and social success and strike the suitable chord between his life and his work. Success is taking its toll. Persons are within the mad race to attain something and all the pieces however at their very own peril. They make some huge cash and create comforts however finally lose their psychological peace. FOUR TYPES OF PEOPLE: There are 4 classes of individuals – Administrators, Thinkers, Socializers and Relaters. The Administrators’ kind of individuals is job oriented and directs the issues to be finished and is extremely energetic. They care least for sentiments and are exhausting core doers and push forward regardless of odds. They obtain rather a lot of their life and sadly on the finish there will likely be nobody to have a good time their success as they not often socialized with others and by no means made associates. They all the time stay alone proper from the start to the top. The second class of the individuals is Thinkers. This type of individuals learn rather a lot, has an eye fixed for element and all the time thinks rather a lot and is of much less directorial tendencies and least of socializing expertise. They have a tendency to grow to be philosophers, nice thinkers on the earth. They don’t prefer to be disturbed and are snug in pondering alone all the time about their chosen subject of life. The third class of individuals is Socializers and is celebration animals. They’re much less of job oriented much less of thinkers and take the roles and duties flippantly and take into consideration all the time having fun with in shifting in teams. They prefer to attend events and make associates. They all the time get pleasure from shifting with individuals and partying. The Richard Branson of Virginia group, UK is a celebration animal. He spends appreciable period of time in attending events. Vijay Mallya of UB group in India can also be a celebration animal and is a media savvy. He all the time likes to be targeted and is all the time on the heart of attraction. The fourth class of individuals is Relaters and they’re much less of directorial, least of thinkers, common of socializing and predominant in networking and constructing relations. Each particular person has all of the 4 dimensions of a persona and the standard or trait that’s predominant is categorized. This evaluation will certainly assist individuals in managing work life stability retaining their tastes and temperaments in view. DIVISION OF 24 HOURS: God gifted 24 hours a day equally for all individuals. Find out how to make the most of the dear time is 1,000,000 greenback query. A mean particular person spends eight hours for sleeping, eight hours for work and eight hours for different routine and common actions. There shouldn’t be any adjustment in sleeping time as physique wants relaxation and to get recharged for the remainder of the time. Folks spend lot of time from commuting from residence to work place and again. If efforts are made to maintain the residence as shut as to the work place, the time could be saved in addition to the pressure and stress could be minimized. The time so saved could be utilized both in the direction of recreation or pursuing hobbies. John Wanamaker mentioned, “Individuals who cannot make time for recreation are obliged ultimately to make time for sickness”. GUJARATI CULTURE: Gujaratis in India work very exhausting and as soon as in every week they’ve the tradition to dine out. They don’t combine enterprise life with private life and they’re usually profitable in separating the each. The chunk of entrepreneurs has come from Gujarati group. They’ve aptitude for enterprise and work with lot of dedication, self-discipline and willpower. However as soon as in every week they go exterior with household and spend their private and social life. Equally most of them take periodical holidays from the work and revel in their life. IT SECTOR IN INDIA: Info Expertise (IT) sector in India is doing superb. There are extra job alternatives as a result of IT increase. Simply after the completion like B.Tech and MCA (engineering graduates and laptop submit graduates), the candidates are getting jobs. The pay and perks are encouraging. However the work life is extremely difficult and extremely demanding. There are a lot of pulls and pressures through the work life. There are too many commitments and deadlines and there are an excessive amount of of unpredictable peaks and troughs through the course of the working time. All these items make the work as a busy exercise and a strenuous one. Sitting in entrance the pc methods is resulting in creating stiff neck issues, dry eyes, irritation, lack of curiosity in the direction of sexual actions, again pains and so on., It appears to be like like having all the pieces however shedding so many issues associated to well being and recreation. Nevertheless, there’s a silver lining. The IT firms are realizing the perils of working lengthy hours. All of it appears to be like that workers are contributing their finest however once we have a look at qualitatively the outcomes are poor. What’s finally important is the qualitative not quantitative productiveness. So through the working hours itself just a few firms are offering time to do meditation in order that the staff can regain their misplaced energies and work energetically. Intermittently, breaks are offered to workers for recouping their energies. Weekend events are performed to take time without work and to unwind and to recharge for the next working day. Periodically cultural applications are organized to make the staff joyful and really feel snug. It’s on the features the staff neglect the discrimination of their ranks and cadres and likewise neglect the variations, if any, of their work life and are available beneath one platform within the identify of cultural applications. Within the western international locations and plenty of different international locations, there may be 5 day week. Folks work very exhausting as much as 5 days and take a weekend break and spend their private and social life with ecstasy. We now have come to the world to attain one thing and to contribute one thing that does imply sacrificing our private lives for the sake life. Nobody ought to remorse on the final leg of life for not having spent private life satisfactorily. There shouldn’t be any regrets on the finish of the life both not having spent private, social or skilled life. TOOLS FOR BETTER WORK-LIFE BALANCE: “In case you are shedding your leisure, look out; you could be shedding your soul”, Logan P.Smith. Efforts needs to be made to not combine up private life with skilled life. There shouldn’t be an encroachment. If private life is paid extra consideration the skilled life will get disturbed and consequently shedding the job and revenue. Then again, if the skilled life is paid extra consideration, the private life is adversely affected ensuing into greater stress ranges. On this context, it’s aptly mentioned, “I’ve extra to do than anybody else; I am unable to probably do all the pieces through the day. I usually find yourself taking work dwelling with me”. It’s a nicely admitted truth that cash shouldn’t be all the pieces. Cash is important for survival and for having comforts however an excessive amount of emphasis on cash is like shedding a lot for thus little. Plan and execute your duties as per your schedule to keep away from any stress. And likewise anticipate the possible issues which are prone to come up and should create tensions. You have to be able to low cost any exterior threats that may not be anticipated however could be anticipated. Such issues will divert the routine work thereby getting deviated. Other than the routine duties different duties will pile up thereby deviating from the routine plan of action ensuing into stress and burn out. Inner threats could be anticipated and anticipated and people could be managed and minimized simply. All the time have a look at the quantity of investments which are put in and the possible returns that may be generated. When the returns are greater than the investments and that too when it doesn’t have an effect on our private well being then the work could be proceeded. There’s nothing like false status whereas enterprise the duties as few males discover it troublesome to get out social stigmas like ‘I am unable to do that’. Flex time as an idea is broadly utilized within the company world. It permits the staff to work the stipulated hours both at a stretch or in a piecemeal method. Particularly when each the spouse and husband are working the flextime helps in proper division of work from home. Each day, finances your time correctly by allocating for private life, skilled life and social life. It’s essential to strictly demarcate all of the actions as per schedule and comply with accordingly. Multitasking is the buzzword on the company world. However it’s resulting in so many issues and implications. Do not need all priorities at a time. Reduce down superfluous duties. Prioritize and plan the duties correctly. Discover out the passionate areas and actions that curiosity you. And pursue the identical as much as the hilt. Since you’re having fun with what you’re doing you’ll not get stressed. Achievement and pleasure are two sides of the identical coin. Attempt to strike the suitable stability between the each in order to guide a clean, profitable and comfy life. Domesticate optimistic angle, inculcate coping expertise and pursue inventive hobbies and pursuits to keep up the suitable stability between the work and life. It’s fascinating to hit fitness center or for a stroll to beat common work associated stress. Pursing hobbies like swimming, video games and different actions often relieve stress and enthuse the person with contemporary power. Going for meditation additionally helps. Analysis reveals that “American employees common roughly ten paid holidays per yr whereas British employees common twenty 5 holidays and German workers thirty. People work twelve weeks extra a yr in complete hours than Europeans”. Enhancing paid holidays will assist workers to be safer financially. They’ll avail paid leaves and go for holidaying for unwinding. Many corporates supplies paid depart as soon as in a yr with free touring allowances to their workers. Each day make a behavior to spend a couple of minutes in a serene and silent place by closing your eyes. On this state of affairs, you neither hear something nor do you see something. Because of this, you’ll be able to instantly consolidate and create contemporary energies. CONCLUSION: Life could be very quick and allow us to make it candy. Placing the suitable stability amongst the private life, skilled life and social life is important. To sum up within the phrases of Theodore Roosevelt, “While you play, play exhausting; whenever you work, do not play in any respect”. T H E E N D Bradford Massage Therapy | Holly Rose Massage Swedish MassageSports MassageDeep Tissue MassagePrenatal MassageAromatherapyTrigger Point Therapy The post How to Maintain Work-life Balance? appeared first on Holly Rose Massage. http://ift.tt/2fBSloa

[tydh]

The Girl on the Train - Chapter 1

RACHEL

Friday, 5 July 2013

Morning

THERE IS A PILE OF clothing on the side of the train tracks. Light-blue cloth – a shirt, perhaps – jumbled up with something dirty white. It’s probably rubbish, part of a load fly-tipped into the scrubby little wood up the bank. It could have been left behind by the engineers who work this part of the track, they’re here often enough. Or it could be something else. My mother used to tell me that I had an overactive imagination; Tom said that too. I can’t help it, I catch sight of these discarded scraps, a dirty T-shirt or a lonesome shoe, and all I can think of is the other shoe, and the feet that fitted into them.

The train jolts and scrapes and screeches back into motion, the little pile of clothes disappears from view and we trundle on towards London, moving at a brisk jogger’s pace. Someone in the seat behind me gives a sigh of helpless irritation; the 8.04 slow train from Ashbury to Euston can test the patience of the most seasoned commuter. The journey is supposed to take fifty-four minutes, but it rarely does: this section of the track is ancient, decrepit, beset with signalling problems and never-ending engineering works.

The train crawls along; it judders past warehouses and water towers, bridges and sheds, past modest Victorian houses, their backs turned squarely to the track.

My head leaning against the carriage window, I watch these houses roll past me like a tracking shot in a film. I see them as others do not; even their owners probably don’t see them from this perspective. Twice a day, I am offered a view into other lives, just for a moment. There’s something comforting about the sight of strangers safe at home.

Someone’s phone is ringing, an incongruously joyful and upbeat song. They’re slow to answer, it jingles on and on around me. I can feel my fellow commuters shift in their seats, rustle their newspapers, tap at their computers. The train lurches and sways around the bend, slowing as it approaches a red signal. I try not to look up, I try to read the free newspaper I was handed on my way into the station, but the words blur in front of my eyes, nothing holds my interest. In my head I can still see that little pile of clothes lying at the edge of the track, abandoned.

Evening

The pre-mixed gin and tonic fizzes up over the lip of the can as I bring it to my mouth and sip. Tangy and cold, the taste of my first ever holiday with Tom, a fishing village on the Basque coast in 2005. In the mornings we’d swim the half-mile to the little island in the bay, make love on secret hidden beaches; in the afternoons we’d sit at a bar drinking strong, bitter gin and tonics, watching swarms of beach footballers playing chaotic 25-a-side games on the low-tide sands.

I take another sip, and another; the can’s already half empty but it’s OK, I have three more in the plastic bag at my feet. It’s Friday, so I don’t have to feel guilty about drinking on the train. TGIF. The fun starts here.

It’s going to be a lovely weekend, that’s what they’re telling us. Beautiful sunshine, cloudless skies. In the old days we might have driven to Corly Wood with a picnic and the papers, spent all afternoon lying on a blanket in dappled sunlight, drinking wine. We might have barbecued out back with friends, or gone to The Rose and sat in the beer garden, faces flushing with sun and alcohol as the afternoon went on, weaving home, arm in arm, falling asleep on the sofa.

Beautiful sunshine, cloudless skies, no one to play with, nothing to do. Living like this, the way I’m living at the moment, is harder in the summer when there is so much daylight, so little cover of darkness, when everyone is out and about, being flagrantly, aggressively happy. It’s exhausting, and it makes you feel bad if you’re not joining in.

The weekend stretches out ahead of me, forty-eight empty hours to fill. I lift the can to my mouth again, but there’s not a drop left.

Monday, 8 July 2013

Morning

It’s a relief to be back on the 8.04. It’s not that I can’t wait to get into London to start my week – I don’t particularly want to be in London at all. I just want to lean back in the soft, sagging velour seat, feel the warmth of the sunshine streaming through the window, feel the carriage rock back and forth and back and forth, the comforting rhythm of wheels on tracks. I’d rather be here, looking out at the houses beside the track, than almost anywhere else.

There’s a faulty signal on this line, about halfway through my journey. I assume it must be faulty, in any case, because it’s almost always red; we stop there most days, sometimes just for a few seconds, sometimes for minutes on end. If I sit in carriage D, which I usually do, and the train stops at this signal, which it almost always does, I have a perfect view into my favourite trackside house: number fifteen.

Number fifteen is much like the other houses along this stretch of track: a Victorian semi, two storeys high, overlooking a narrow, well-tended garden which runs around twenty feet down towards some fencing, beyond which lie a few metres of no man’s land before you get to the railway track. I know this house by heart. I know every brick, I know the colour of the curtains in the upstairs bedroom (beige, with a dark-blue print), I know that the paint is peeling off the bathroom window frame and that there are four tiles missing from a section of the roof over on the right-hand side.

I know that on warm summer evenings, the occupants of this house, Jason and Jess, sometimes climb out of the large sash window to sit on the makeshift terrace on top of the kitchen-extension roof. They are a perfect, golden couple. He is dark haired and well built, strong, protective, kind. He has a great laugh. She is one of those tiny bird-women, a beauty, pale-skinned with blonde hair cropped short. She has the bone structure to carry that kind of thing off, sharp cheekbones dappled with a sprinkling of freckles, a fine jaw.

While we’re stuck at the red signal, I look for them. Jess is often out there in the mornings, especially in the summer, drinking her coffee. Sometimes, when I see her there, I feel as though she sees me too, I feel as though she looks right back at me, and I want to wave. I’m too self-conscious. I don’t see Jason quite so much, he’s away a lot with work. But even if they’re not there, I think about what they might be up to. Maybe this morning they’ve both got the day off and she’s lying in bed while he makes breakfast, or maybe they’ve gone for a run together, because that’s the sort of thing they do. (Tom and I used to run together on Sundays, me going at slightly above my normal pace, him at about half his, just so we could run side by side.) Maybe Jess is upstairs in the spare room, painting, or maybe they’re in the shower together, her hands pressed against the tiles, his hands on her hips.

Evening

Turning slightly towards the window, my back to the rest of the carriage, I open one of the little bottles of Chenin Blanc I purchased from the Whistlestop at Euston. It’s not cold, but it’ll do. I pour some into a plastic cup, screw the top back on and slip the bottle into my handbag. It’s less acceptable to drink on the train on a Monday, unless you’re drinking with company, which I am not.

There are familiar faces on these trains, people I see every week, going to and fro. I recognize them and they probably recognize me. I don’t know whether they see me, though, for what I really am.

It’s a glorious evening, warm but not too close, the sun starting its lazy descent, shadows lengthening and the light just beginning to burnish the trees with gold. The train is rattling along, we whip past Jason and Jess’s place, they pass in a blur of evening sunshine. Sometimes, not often, I can see them from this side of the track. If there’s no train going in the opposite direction, and if we’re travelling slowly enough, I can sometimes catch a glimpse of them out on their terrace. If not – like today – I can imagine them. Jess will be sitting with her feet up on the table out on the terrace, a glass of wine in her hand, Jason standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders. I can imagine the feel of his hands, the weight of them, reassuring and protective. Sometimes I catch myself trying to remember the last time I had meaningful physical contact with another person, just a hug or a heartfelt squeeze of my hand, and my heart twitches.

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

Morning

The pile of clothes from last week is still there, and it looks dustier and more forlorn than it did a few days ago. I read somewhere that a train can rip the clothes right off you when it hits. It’s not that unusual, death by train. Two to three hundred a year, they say, so at least one every couple of days. I’m not sure how many of those are accidental. I look carefully, as the train rolls slowly past, for blood on the clothes, but I can’t see any.

The train stops at the signal as usual. I can see Jess standing on the patio in front of the French doors. She’s wearing a bright print dress, her feet are bare. She’s looking over her shoulder, back into the house; she’s probably talking to Jason, who’ll be making breakfast. I keep my eyes fixed on Jess, on her home, as the train starts to inch forward. I don’t want to see the other houses; I particularly don’t want to see the one four doors down, the one which used to be mine.

I lived at number twenty-three Blenheim Road for five years, blissfully happy and utterly wretched. I can’t look at it now. That was my first home. Not my parents’ place, not a flatshare with other students, my first home. I can’t bear to look at it. Well, I can, I do, I want to, I don’t want to, I try not to. Every day I tell myself not to look, and every day I look. I can’t help myself, even though there is nothing I want to see there, even though anything I do see will hurt me. Even though I remember so clearly how it felt that time I looked up and noticed that the cream linen blind in the upstairs bedroom was gone, replaced by something in soft baby pink; even though I still remember the pain I felt when I saw Anna watering the rose bushes near the fence, her T-shirt stretched tight over her bulging belly, and I bit my lip so hard it bled.

I close my eyes tightly and count to ten, fifteen, twenty. There, it’s gone now, nothing to see. We roll into Witney station and out again, the train starting to pick up pace as suburbia melts into grimy north London, terraced houses replaced by tagged bridges and empty buildings with broken windows. The closer we get to Euston the more anxious I feel; pressure builds, how will today be? There’s a filthy, low-slung concrete building on the right-hand side of the track about five hundred metres before we get into Euston. On its side, someone has painted: LIFE IS NOT A PARAGRAPH. I think about the bundle of clothes on the side of the track and I feel as though my throat is closing up. Life is not a paragraph and death is no parenthesis.

Evening

The train I take in the evening, the 17.56, is slightly slower than the morning one – it takes one hour and one minute, a full seven minutes longer than the morning train despite not stopping at any extra stations. I don’t mind, because just as I’m in no great hurry to get into London in the morning, I’m in no hurry to get back to Ashbury in the evening either. Not just because it’s Ashbury, although the place itself is bad enough, a 1960s new town, spreading like a tumour over the heart of Buckinghamshire. No better or worse than a dozen other towns like it, a centre filled with cafés and mobile-phone shops and branches of JD Sports, surrounded by a band of suburbia and beyond that the realm of the multiplex cinema and out-of-town Tesco. I live in a smart(ish), new(ish) block situated at the point where the commercial heart of the place starts to bleed into the residential outskirts, but it is not my home. My home is the Victorian semi on the tracks, the one I part-owned. In Ashbury I am not a homeowner, not even a tenant – I’m a lodger, occupant of the small second bedroom in Cathy’s bland and inoffensive duplex, subject to her grace and favour.

Cathy and I were friends at university. Half-friends, really, we were never that close. She lived across the hall from me in my first year and we were doing the same course, so we were natural allies in those first few daunting weeks, before we met people with whom we had more in common. We didn’t see much of each other after the first year and barely at all after college, except for the occasional wedding. But in my hour of need she happened to have a spare room going and it made sense. I was so sure that it would only be for a couple of months, six at the most, and I didn’t know what else to do. I’d never lived by myself, I’d gone from parents to flatmates to Tom, I found the idea overwhelming, so I said yes. And that was nearly two years ago.

It’s not awful. Cathy’s a nice person, in a forceful sort of way. She makes you notice her niceness. Her niceness is writ large, it is her defining quality and she needs it acknowledged, often, daily almost, which can be tiring. But it’s not so bad, I can think of worse traits in a flatmate. No, it’s not Cathy, it’s not even Ashbury that bothers me most about my new situation (I still think of it as new, although it’s been two years). It’s the loss of control. In Cathy’s flat I always feel like a guest at the very outer limit of their welcome. I feel it in the kitchen, where we jostle for space when cooking our evening meals. I feel it when I sit beside her on the sofa, the remote control firmly within her grasp. The only space which feels like mine is my tiny bedroom, into which a double bed and a desk have been crammed, with barely enough space to walk between them. It’s comfortable enough, but it isn’t a place you want to be, so instead I linger in the living room or at the kitchen table, ill at ease and powerless. I have lost control over everything, even the places in my head.

Wednesday, 10 July 2013

Morning

The heat is building. It’s barely half past eight and already the day is close, the air heavy with moisture. I could wish for a storm, but the sky is an insolent blank, pale, watery blue. I wipe away the sweat on my top lip. I wish I’d remembered to buy a bottle of water.

I can’t see Jason and Jess this morning, and my sense of disappointment is acute. Silly, I know. I scrutinize the house, but there’s nothing to see. The curtains are open downstairs but the French doors are closed, sunlight reflecting off the glass. The sash window upstairs is closed, too. Jason may be away working. He’s a doctor, I think, probably for one of those overseas organizations. He’s constantly on call, a bag packed on top of the wardrobe; there’s an earthquake in Iran or a tsunami in Asia and he drops everything, he grabs his bag and he’s at Heathrow within a matter of hours, ready to fly out and save lives.

Jess, with her bold prints and her Converse trainers and her beauty, her attitude, works in the fashion industry. Or perhaps in the music business, or in advertising – she might be a stylist or a photographer. She’s a good painter, too, plenty of artistic flair. I can see her now, in the spare room upstairs, music blaring, window open, a brush in her hand, an enormous canvas leaning against the wall. She’ll be there until midnight; Jason knows not to bother her when she’s working.

I can’t really see her, of course. I don’t know if she paints, or whether Jason has a great laugh, or whether Jess has beautiful cheekbones. I can’t see her bone structure from here and I’ve never heard Jason’s voice. I’ve never seen them up close, they didn’t live at that house when I lived down the road. They moved in after I left two years ago, I don’t know when exactly. I suppose I started noticing them about a year ago, and gradually, as the months went past, they became important to me.

I don’t know their names either, so I had to name them myself. Jason, because he’s handsome in a British film star kind of way, not a Depp or a Pitt, but a Firth, or a Jason Isaacs. And Jess just goes with Jason, and it goes with her. It fits her, pretty and carefree as she is. They’re a match, they’re a set. They’re happy, I can tell. They’re what I used to be, they’re Tom and me, five years ago. They’re what I lost, they’re everything I want to be.

Evening

My shirt, uncomfortably tight, buttons straining across my chest, is pit stained, damp patches clammy beneath my arms. My eyes and throat itch. This evening I don’t want the journey to stretch out; I long to get home, to undress and get into the shower, to be where no one can look at me.

I look at the man in the seat opposite mine. He is about my age, early to mid-thirties, with dark hair, greying at the temples. Sallow skin. He’s wearing a suit, but he’s taken the jacket off and slung it on the seat next to him. He has a MacBook, paper thin, open in front of him. He’s a slow typist. He’s wearing a silver watch with a large face on his right wrist – it looks expensive, a Breitling maybe. He’s chewing the inside of his cheek. Perhaps he’s nervous. Or just thinking deeply. Writing an important email to a colleague at the office in New York, or a carefully worded break-up message to his girlfriend. He looks up suddenly and meets my eye; his glance travels over me, over the little bottle of wine on the table in front of me. He looks away. There’s something about the set of his mouth which suggests distaste. He finds me distasteful.

I am not the girl I used to be. I am no longer desirable, I’m off-putting in some way. It’s not just that I’ve put on weight, or that my face is puffy from the drinking and the lack of sleep; it’s as if people can see the damage written all over me, they can see it in my face, the way I hold myself, the way I move.

One night last week, when I left my room to get myself a glass of water, I overheard Cathy talking to Damien, her boyfriend, in the living room. I stood in the hallway and listened. ‘She’s lonely,’ Cathy was saying, ‘I really worry about her. It doesn’t help, her being alone all the time.’ Then she said, ‘Isn’t there someone from work, maybe, or the rugby club?’ and Damien said, ‘For Rachel? Not being funny, Cath, but I’m not sure I know anyone that desperate.’

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Morning

I’m picking at the plaster on my forefinger. It’s damp, it got wet when I was washing out my coffee mug this morning; it feels clammy, dirty, though it was clean on this morning. I don’t want to take it off because the cut is deep. Cathy was out when I got home, so I went to the off-licence and bought two bottles of wine. I drank the first one and then I thought I’d take advantage of the fact that she was out and cook myself a steak, make a red-onion relish, have it with a green salad. A good, healthy meal. I sliced through the top of my finger while chopping the onions. I must have gone to the bathroom to clean it up and gone to lie down for a while and just forgotten all about the kitchen, because I woke up around ten and I could hear Cathy and Damien talking and he was saying how disgusting it was that I would leave the place like that. Cathy came upstairs to see me, she knocked softly on my door and opened it a fraction. She cocked her head to one side and asked if I was OK. I apologized without being sure what I was apologizing for. She said it was all right, but would I mind cleaning up a bit? There was blood on the chopping board, the room smelled of raw meat, the steak was still sitting out on the counter top, turning grey. Damien didn’t even say hello, he just shook his head when he saw me and went upstairs to Cathy’s bedroom.

After they’d both gone to bed I remembered that I hadn’t drunk the second bottle, so I opened that. I sat on the sofa and watched television with the sound turned down really low so they wouldn’t hear it. I can’t remember what I was watching, but at some point I must have felt lonely, or happy, or something, because I wanted to talk to someone. The need for contact must have been overwhelming and there was no one I could call except for Tom.

There’s no one I want to talk to except for Tom. The call log on my phone says I rang four times: at 11.02, 11.12, 11.54, 12.09. Judging from the length of the calls, I left two messages. He may even have picked up, but I don’t remember talking to him. I remember leaving the first message; I think I just asked him to call me. That may be what I said in both of them, which isn’t too bad.

The train shudders to a standstill at the red signal and I look up. Jess is sitting on her patio, drinking a cup of coffee. She has her feet up against the table and her head back, sunning herself. Behind her, I think I can see a shadow, someone moving: Jason. I long to see him, to catch a glimpse of his handsome face. I want him to come outside, to stand behind her, the way he does, to kiss the top of her head.

He doesn’t come out, and her head falls forward. There is something about the way she is moving today that seems different; she is heavier, weighed down. I will him to come out to her, but the train jolts and slogs forward and still there is no sign of him; she’s alone. And now, without thinking, I find myself looking directly into my house, and I can’t look away. The French doors are flung open, light streaming into the kitchen. I can’t tell, I really can’t, whether I’m seeing this or imagining it – is she there, at the sink, washing up? Is there a little girl sitting in one of those bouncy baby chairs, up there on the kitchen table?

I close my eyes and let the darkness grow and spread until it morphs from a feeling of sadness into something worse: a memory, a flashback. I didn’t just ask him to call me back. I remember now, I was crying. I told him that I still loved him, that I always would. Please, Tom, please, I need to talk to you. I miss you. No no no no no no no.

I have to accept it, there’s no point trying to push it away. I’m going to feel terrible all day, it’s going to come in waves – stronger then weaker then stronger again – that twist in the pit of my stomach, the anguish of shame, the heat coming to my face, my eyes squeezed tight as though I could make it all disappear. And I’ll be telling myself all day, it’s not the worst thing, is it? It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done, it’s not as if I fell over in public, or yelled at a stranger in the street. It’s not as if I humiliated my husband at a summer barbecue by shouting abuse at the wife of one of his friends. It’s not as if we got into a fight one night at home and I went for him with a golf club, taking a chunk out of the plaster in the hallway outside the bedroom. It’s not like going back to work after a three-hour lunch and staggering through the office, everyone looking, Martin Miles taking me to one side, I think you should probably go home, Rachel. I once read a book by a former alcoholic where she described giving oral sex to two different men, men she’d just met in a restaurant on a busy London high street. I read it and I thought, I’m not that bad. This is where the bar is set.

Evening

I have been thinking about Jess all day, unable to focus on anything but what I saw this morning. What was it that made me think that something was wrong? I couldn’t possibly see her expression at that distance, but I felt when I was looking at her that she was alone. More than alone – lonely. Perhaps she was – perhaps he’s away, gone to one of those hot countries he jets off to to save lives. And she misses him, and she worries, although she knows he has to go.

Of course she misses him, just as I do. He is kind and strong, everything a husband should be. And they are a partnership. I can see it, I know how they are. His strength, that protectiveness he radiates, it doesn’t mean she’s weak. She’s strong in other ways; she makes intellectual leaps that leave him open-mouthed in admiration. She can cut to the nub of a problem, dissect and analyse it in the time it takes other people to say good morning. At parties, he often holds her hand, even though they’ve been together years. They respect each other, they don’t put each other down.

I feel exhausted this evening. I am sober, stone cold. Some days I feel so bad that I have to drink; some days I feel so bad that I can’t. Today, the thought of alcohol turns my stomach. But sobriety on the evening train is a challenge, particularly now, in this heat. A film of sweat covers every inch of my skin, the inside of my mouth prickles, my eyes itch, mascara rubbed into their corners.

My phone buzzes in my handbag, making me jump. Two girls sitting across the carriage look at me and then at each other, with a sly exchange of smiles. I don’t know what they think of me, but I know it isn’t good. My heart is pounding in my chest as I reach for the phone. I know this will be nothing good either: it will be Cathy, perhaps, asking me ever so nicely to maybe give the booze a rest this evening? Or my mother, telling me that she’ll be in London next week, she’ll drop by the office, we can go for lunch. I look at the screen. It’s Tom. I hesitate for just a second and then I answer it.

‘Rachel?’

For the first five years I knew him, I was never Rachel, always Rach. Sometimes Shelley, because he knew I hated it and it made him laugh to watch me twitch with irritation and then giggle because I couldn’t help but join in when he was laughing. ‘Rachel, it’s me.’ His voice is leaden, he sounds worn out. ‘Listen, you have to stop this, OK?’ I don’t say anything. The train is slowing and we are almost opposite the house, my old house. I want to say to him, Come outside, go and stand on the lawn. Let me see you. ‘Please, Rachel, you can’t call me like this all the time. You’ve got to sort yourself out.’ There is a lump in my throat as hard as a pebble, smooth and obstinate. I cannot swallow. I cannot speak. ‘Rachel? Are you there? I know things aren’t good with you, and I’m sorry for you, I really am, but … I can’t help you, and these constant calls are really upsetting Anna. OK? I can’t help you any more. Go to AA or something. Please, Rachel. Go to an AA meeting after work today.’

I pull the filthy plaster off the end of my finger and look at the pale, wrinkled flesh beneath, dried blood caked at the edge of my fingernail. I press the thumbnail of my right hand into the centre of the cut and feel it open up, the pain sharp and hot. I catch my breath. Blood starts to ooze from the wound. The girls on the other side of the carriage are watching me, their faces blank.