#here we are folks depression’s holidays are over she’s back at work and she takes it very seriously

[sandinthepipes]

Does the flag REALLY means death once again? Can’t it mean something else for just once? Why is the flag denied a fairytale ending even this time?

[bunny-j3st3r]

su/ici/de mention under cut and depression stuff

I think I’m ready to talk about some stuff in my life that’s been happening as of late.

About two-ish months ago I had a rather large relapse in my mental health, I was thinking of the future and getting myself scared, I was thinking how I can’t afford to live on my own and if something happened to my folks I would be homeless, I was thinking how my dogs are getting older and I already lost two dogs due to health issues in a short span of each other, I don’t think I’m mentally prepared if my chihuahua passes away this year.

I was thinking about old photos I saw once, my mom showed me a picture of my great aunt and she looked exactly like me, it was like I was looking in a mirror, my mom told me she died due to weight issues that gave her a heart attack in her 40s, it scared me as being someone who is very overweight due to things that happened in my past that gave me bad habits today.

I was thinking how I can barely afford to live anymore, how I have to beg for help and hope strangers will be kind enough to give money to me to pay for groceries that I can barely afford anymore, how I’ve not really gone out and enjoyed myself for months because I’m so scared that even spending money on a new book is money I could of spent buying much needed food and essentials.  

I relapses very severely, I was going down hill further and further and I had planned on taking my own life when my parents were on holiday so no one would be around to help me.

I had planned it all, worked it out and I had it all sorted for last month, was going to just down as many of my parents left over medication as I could, regardless of what it was, didn’t know what half of them where, I just knew there was a bag of medication that my folks had planned to return to the chemist after there holiday since that had a surplus supply they didn’t need. 

I sat there on I think it was thursday, I remember it had been raining all day and I sat at the back door, watching how heavy the rain was, I had the bag in hand and a large glass of water ready and I just sat and watched.

And then all my dogs started to sit around me, watching with me as I just watched and then our puppy who we didn’t have that long laid her head on my hand that I was gripping the bag in.

I felt myself starting to cry, I don’t remember much, I remember crying so much to the point I was sick a few times, I remember wheezing and then just collapsing on to the couch, burying myself under blankets and all the dogs trying to get on to the couch with me to lay on me.

I remember falling asleep while crying but smiling because a special friend to me sent me a dumb meme as I was going through this, blissfully unaware of the events that I had just planned.

I don’t think I woke up till late that day, the sun was shining, the weather was warm as if my family looking down on me were telling me that the moment had passed.

I stuffed the bag back into the closet and messaged my mom, her and dad still don’t know what I had planned and I don’t think I’ll ever tell them.

I had a bath, I cooked a decent meal and played video games most of that day while also working a little bit in the garden.

In the end I decided to book my first holiday abroad that will be by myself, something I can pay of monthly, I brought myself the new zelda game and have spent a good chunk of time away playing that.

I also started to walk more, I do a 5k hike every few days into the woods and across the fields and just take everything in as I’m going, I want to better myself.

I’m still struggling atm, I’m still finding it hard to talk to most people or be involved in things my friends are all involved in but the matter of fact is I’m here.

I’m here and I’m alive and I am trying to become a better person for myself, even with all my struggles, I’ll work it out, I’m still scared but I’ll work through it.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Twenty

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome to the end of our tale, everyone! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying over the years. I love you so much and appreciate you more than words can say. Here's to 2021, my friends! Ad Victoriam, and stay safe! Tagging @anonymouscosmos​, @culturalrebel, @wrestlingfae​, @toxiicpop​,  @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism, @commandershepardshtole, @valkyriejack and @kovu-the-mythical-being. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer

Part Nineteen: Lucky

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains holiday celebrations, brief emotional distress and unprotected sex. Stay safe!]

Time seemed to pass both too fast and not fast enough. 

  Synths were accommodated, reprogrammed at their wishes or helped to adjust to their new lives. Doctor Amari and the rest of the Railroad had no shortage of work, and Desdemona eventually tapped MacCready and Cait to oversee their caravan logistics back to the Capital Wasteland. 

  "And the people of the Commonwealth slept soundly, for the greatest monster was gone." Nick had remarked, touching the brim of his fedora in a half-salute. The old detective quickly appointed himself as head of first impressions in Diamond City, making certain that no trouble befell any wayward synth that accidentally wandered in. There was still a lot of work to be done to repair the Broken Mask incident, after all.

  New settlements sprang up overnight and while there may not have been total harmony, there was the sensation of the whole Commonwealth heaving a sigh of relief. Recruits flocked to the Minutemen and Brotherhood in droves as Piper's Publick Occurrences spread the word of their successful campaign against the Institute. 

  Commonwealth boogeyman decimated by combination effort: Brotherhood Of Steel and Minutemen join forces to save Boston from bodysnatchers!

  Deacon had effortlessly deflected Piper every time she asked for an interview, the mysterious man more than content to keep the Railroad shadowy. The less everyone knew, the less they could tell, and that suited him just fine. "You did real good, Icebox. Helped a lot of people."

  Elder Brandis sought approval to establish a permanent outpost at the Boston airport ruins, the former paladin keen to send the Prydwen back to the Capital Wasteland. "Oh the Prydwen's a fine ship, but put me in the field any day!" The airship, once a proud symbol of the Maxson reign, now served little purpose aside from blocking the sun on occasion. Scribes laughed and played in the massive shadow, kicking up dust until the circle where the litany trial had taken place was nothing but a memory.

  X6-88 had floundered for several weeks, the courser falling into a depressive slump that not even Curie could rouse him from. Oddly enough, it was Preston who ended up being able to haul him out of the darkness, the lieutenant making a point to visit the courser to drag him from his room for target practice and other low-effort patrol duties. "Sometimes all folks need is a hand, General." 

  The courser went on to reluctantly take the role of defective defector, working as a consultant to the Minutemen to help ward off any future attacks by desperate coursers or Institute scientists. Preston found his input invaluable, and the duo could often be found in the lieutenant's quarters poring over threadbare maps and trading tactical information. Preston also seemed to have a calming effect on the synth hunter, helping to blunt some of the cold steel edge that X6 had honed his entire life. Add on to that the constant caring presence of Curie, and they made a strange but surprisingly effective trio. 

  With the new supply line firmly established between the verdant utopia of Starlight Drive-In and Oberland Station, the strain of the prior lean months finally eased a bit. Faces grew less pinched even with the increased burden of the synths, and many settlers began to tentatively plan for a small celebration in the beginning of the winter. 

  "'The Holidays' is what they been callin' it, real simple and succinct. Some freaky hodgepodge of everyone's traditions. I guess a lot of folks on that fancy director's board also celebrated around this time of year. Not that the synths would know, naturally." Hancock had muttered, his expression sour. "Poor bastards always workin', and they ain't got fuckall to show for it. Seems like a shit deal."

  Elder Brandis granted Danse an extended leave of absence after the toppling of the Institute without the paladin even requesting it, the large man dumbfounded for a moment upon receiving the news.

  "If you're up for it, I could use a hand back at Sanctuary." Vega had grinned up at him, her eyes squinting a little under the force of her smile. "A lot of prep work goes into a holiday, after all."

  ...

  Danse had taken it upon himself to retreat from Shaun's previous bedroom when he accompanied Vega and her son back to Sanctuary. He debated heavily on returning to the airport; after all, there was no real reason for him to stay in Sanctuary Hills, at least none that he dared to dwell upon. The few small projects that Vega had to manage were easily accomplished and he was left a bit lost in the wake of the excess of his leave.

  Vega, however, had begun framing in what was once the carpark for her house. Sturges helped of course, and once Danse caught on he was touched by the gesture. 

  "I don't want you to feel like there isn't room for you just because Shaun is back." Elizabeth had said, lugging a chunk of scrap metal from the wreckage of her car. 

  The paladin had to take a moment, claiming sawdust in his eye as the culprit.

  Now Danse lived in the area she had partitioned off for him, uncertain if he still believed he was intruding. Those thoughts were troubling, because if he could get comfortable…

  What if Vega eventually decided that Shaun needed a father and what if...what if she chose a real man? Really real, not a sham like Danse was. And if she did, what man would permit Danse to stay? What real man would permit a synth that was currently entangled by these...human emotions to remain on their property, even if Danse proved he wasn't a threat?

  What man would believe him if he claimed to have no interest in Vega? Hell, Danse didn't even believe himself. 

  But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted to tell Elizabeth...well, there were a lot of things he wanted to tell her.

  His silence was more of a burden each day, and Danse knew he must seem sullen. It gnawed at him; it felt like lying every time he choked the words back down because it wasn't the right time or he just didn't know what to say, and he didn't trust himself not to say something foolish.

  He decided he would wait until after the holiday gathering. Whatever the verdict was, it shouldn't take away from the joy she was clearly feeling over the festivities. So Danse threw himself into helping Sturges, Mama Murphy and the Longs around Sanctuary.

  Secretly making a toy truck for Shaun had been a painstaking process fraught with peril. Mainly because Danse was somewhat indelicate and carving tiny wheels had never been his area of expertise. Oh certainly, he could build a survival camp with nothing but a combat knife and time, but a toy...

  The paladin had spent countless hours creating prototypes in his cobbled-together room as he pondered the path he should take, sometimes working into the wan light of the morning. He eventually showed the truck to Jun, immensely fearful that Shaun might not enjoy the toy. Danse couldn't recall his own interests when he had been Shaun's age, and thus fell back on the other man's expertise. 

  "It looks good! Sand the wheels a little more, maybe give it a coat or two of paint." Jun praised the pensive paladin, turning the vehicle over in his hands to examine it. "Kyle loved these kinds of things y'know, trucks and trains and little toy boats." His gaze grew distant for a moment, the rough plaything stilling in his grasp. "Marcy thinks she's pregnant." He said abruptly.

  "Pregnant?" Danse repeated without meaning to, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

  Jun nodded jerkily. "It's been three months now. She's scared, Mr. Danse, real scared. Thinks something bad will happen."

  "What can we do?" The paladin asked sharply. 

  Jun gawked up at him, seeming confused. "We?"

  "I am unfamiliar with this process. What needs to be done?"

  "I...I don't follow, Mr. Danse."

  "To simplify the duration! What precautions can I-"

  "Whoa, hang on." Jun protested. "We aren't sure if the general will even let us stay here with an extra mouth to feed. I've been trying to figure out how to bring up the subject." He admitted. 

  "You haven't even told General Vega yet?!" Danse squawked. 

  "W-Well, no! I figured maybe we would...we'd see how the winter went and play it by ear." Jun mumbled, seeming defensive. 

  Danse seized the other man's arm, heedless of his protests as he hauled him across the front lawn to Vega's abode. Today was the day that Vega had planned to sort through decorations; there were many left over from the fall holiday the Commonwealth had been preparing to celebrate before...well, time had stopped for most when the bombs fell, it was understandable that faded pumpkins and skeletons would still grace crumbling walls with their orangey-cream presence.

  Vega looked up from the veritable pile of brittle, salvaged decor in confusion when Danse barged into their...her home, the paladin immediately halting and offering a sharp salute. "Danse! I...uh, what's wrong?"

  "Mr. Long has something he needs to discuss with you immediately." Danse informed her, tugging the other man forward. 

  "I-I...er, General, you…" Jun struggled to speak, twiddling his fingers wildly. "M-Marcy--"

  "What's wrong, Jun? Is she okay?" Vega asked, getting to her feet and shooting Danse a worried look. "Did something happen?"

  "B-Baby." Jun squeaked. "Pregnant."Backhand went still, her freckles stark against the fresh pallor of her face. "I'm sorry, General, I know we haven't discussed it beforehand a-and I know food's been better as of late...I-I guess she got enough nutrients and got healthy enough for...er, well, you know." Mr. Long looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground. "We should have spoke to you sooner; I don't know if she can leave with the weather being--"

  "Wh-Where are you going? Why leave, what?" Vega stammered, "Jun, you can't travel now, if something goes wrong-!"

  "We weren't sure if you'd let us stay!" The thin man interrupted her frantically. "This is your base, after all, and you didn't sign on for an extra person to worry about."

  Vega inhaled deeply. "Danse, could you give me a minute with Mr. Long?" She requested, her voice suspiciously even.

  Danse obeyed, closing the front door gently and meandering a pointed distance down the main thoroughfare so as not to eavesdrop. He had a relatively good idea of how the conversation would go, despite Jun's misgivings. So he wandered down to the huge tree at the end of the cul-de-sac, fiddling with the truck in his pocket absently as he stared upwards at the barren branches. 

  "Y'know kid," Mama Murphy piped up from her customary chair on her porch and the paladin turned to face her, giving the elderly woman his full attention. "When I had the Sight, I saw this place. Sanctuary." She nodded in the direction of the river, then gestured upwards. "The bridge, and this tree. Massive and old, worn out from all those years." She cocked her head, giving Danse an appraising look. "The tree though, it was...covered in lights. Like what you see in the pre-war mags. The Holidays, shinin' like a beacon of hope at the end of the tunnel." 

  Danse hummed, the vaguest beginnings of an idea taking root in his mind. He couldn't bring Vega's old life back, but maybe...maybe he could bring something from it back to her. Like what you see in the pre-war mags.

  "I think you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, kid." Mama Murphy's smile was knowing, the old woman reaching over to pet Dogmeat. The dog seemed to materialize out of thin air sometimes! "Now get to it."

  ...

  Backhand was already scurrying around the kitchen when Danse rose on the morning of the Holiday celebration, the paladin pausing only momentarily to yawn in the doorway before sleepily offering his assistance. "Is there something I can help with, Vega?"

  "Uh, Sturges, he said something about you and stuff from Goodneighbor, I think?" Elizabeth replied, obviously preoccupied with whatever she had in the semi-functional oven. Danse nodded, trudging across the kitchen to tug on his boots by the door. 

  Shaun bounded out of the bathroom, his face still damp from his morning wash. "Oh, can I help too? Please Mom, let me help Mister Danse and Mister Sturges!" He begged.

  "You'd better stay right where Danse and Sturges can see you." Backhand instructed him sternly, one oven-mitted hand gesturing to indicate the gravity of the situation. "Otherwise you're coming straight back inside. Go put on your warm coat."

  Shaun cheered in delight, racing back to his room.

  "It's okay that he's with you two, right? I know he's not your responsibility." Backhand continued in an undertone to the paladin.

  Danse's throat tightened and it took him a moment to respond, "I don't mind at all. He's a very well-behaved child." 

  "Let me know if he's an issue and I'll bring him back inside. I just need to get this done and the oven is being all-" 

  Danse stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders, deliberately schooling his expression into something more stern. "General, you're doing a fine job. Stop worrying."

  "Am I? Shit, I really hope so." Elizabeth mumbled, tipping her forehead until it rested against his chest. Danse prayed she couldn't hear his heart, hammering merely from her proximity. God, his body was nothing but an embarrassment waiting to happen. "I've never really done this crap. Not sure if I'm cut out for it."

  The momentary respite was broken when Shaun reappeared in his oversized flannel and oilcloth jacket, the child bolting past the two adults to put on his boots. Danse reluctantly released Backhand, noting how flushed her face was but not really daring to dwell on it. "I'll...I'll watch him." The paladin said, his voice a bit stilted. "I promise."

  "Thank you." Backhand mumbled, wiping her eyes and then returning to coddle…whatever it was in the oven.

  "Ready, Shaun?" Danse asked the boy, who nodded rapidly and extended a hand. 

  The snow outside was still fresh from the night before and Danse took a moment to appreciate the view of the Commonwealth covered in a thin layer of white. Off in the distance, the towering crimson insignia of the Red Rocket gasoline station stood stark against the backdrop of the gray sky. Even further down the road slumbered the empty shell of Concord, the tallest of the town's dilapidated buildings only just visible from the paladin's position. 

  Shaun tugged at his hand, pulling his attention back to the present. "Mister Danse, Mister Sturges is waiting for us!" The child announced, waving up at the engineer who was currently settled into a crook of the brittle branches that graced the tree on the cul-de-sac island. "Hi Mister Sturges!"

  "Howdy fellas! Come to give me a helpin' hand?" Sturges called, grinning down at the two of them. 

  "What assistance can we offer?" Danse queried, wary that the other man might suggest Shaun climb up to him. His fears were quickly allayed when Sturges instead asked Shaun and Danse to begin untangling the long strands of old lights. 

  Hancock and his ilk had arrived from Goodneighbor, bearing the gifts of dubious treats and many, many mangled strings of lights. Goodneighbor had always been drenched in neon, after all, so Danse had assumed the ghoul mayor would be the best person to call upon for aid. It would appear that Hancock had delivered in spectacular fashion.

  "With your help, we'll have this place lookin' pretty as a picture in no time!"

  …

  Maybe she had bitten off slightly more than she could chew, trying to cook a traditional dinner. Backhand sighed, glumly poking at the cold poultry with a wooden spoon. Her cooking skills had never been much to write home about in the first place, and this only served to solidify that fact. 

  "Oh Mum, I'm so sorry. The old oven just isn't how it used to be." Codsworth commented, his mechanical voice tinged with melancholy. 

  "It's not a big deal, Codsworth. I hate to waste the food, that's all." Backhand muttered, assuring herself that she wasn't fighting back frustrated tears, her eyes were just tired. "Damn thing didn't even get to the warm phase."

  "Mum, if I might suggest…?" The robot started hesitantly, carrying on when she nodded. "Perhaps it can be salvaged. After all, we make bread in that same pan by tucking it beneath the hot coals out front. What do you say, shall we give it a go?"

  "Got nothing to lose, right?" 

  "It will be just fine, Mum! You're an adaptive sort." Codsworth remarked, drifting out the front door to stoke the usual cooking fire to life once more. "Indeed, just fine!" He called. 

  Vega shook her head ruefully. "Oh I'm sure." The woman grumbled. "Can't cook and comes with baggage. What a catch ol' Vega is." At least the bread had come out well, in spite of the brisk weather. She could thank whoever for that small favor.

  Once Codsworth had coaxed the embers to life in the fire pit, Elizabeth bundled up and brought the still-cold cast-iron pot outside. Maybe it had been wishful thinking to believe that the oven portion of her stove would still work. Or even heat at all. It had been promising earlier in the week, but this might be a blessing in disguise. If the whole house had gone up due to a cooking malfunction...well, the holidays wouldn't be too happy then, would they?

  "Please cook." She begged under her breath, troweling hot coals onto the battered dutch oven lid. "I need this, y'know? Just a little victory, that's all I'm asking for here." 

  "Shall I get started on the tatoes, Miss Vega?" 

  Elizabeth nodded, only half-listening to Codsworth. She knew she would have a good forty five minutes to an hour to wait, and it wasn't as if it was colder outside than it was inside. The joys of semi-functional heating! 

  Vega shook her head at herself after a second, since when did she dwell on everything that Sanctuary wasn't? At the end of the day, it was her home. She wouldn't trade it for the world, and she knew she had much more than most people.

  At that thought, her gaze wandered to where Danse and Shaun were. The larger man had Shaun on his shoulders while he patiently unwound a massive bundle of flickering string lights. Shaun, for his part, was passing the untangled lights up to Sturges. The engineer slid down the ladder so he could reach the child, looping the lights over his arm before climbing back up and painstakingly placing them in the gnarled grasp of the tree's limbs.

  The manufactured cheer that the lights had given off pre-war was still somewhat there, though the radiant colors were washed out to pastel and the warm whites had gone dingy gray. Instead of it being a melancholy reminder that her life had changed irreparably, Backhand was overcome with gratitude. For her son's safe return, regardless of his synthetic makeup, and for the man who was currently carrying Shaun on his shoulders. For her home, for her family.

  A family. 

  Perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself. After all, Danse was still adjusting to life in ordinary time. It would be selfish of her to voice her feelings to him while he was coming to terms with everything that had happened. For better or for worse, their lives were different now. 

  It ought to be enough that he was in her life at all. She should be content. His presence alone was a miracle; for all intents and purposes he should be dead. Yet there he was, mere feet away, helping to brighten up the holiday celebration.

  Tonight there would be a multitude of visitors. God only knew how many would arrive from settlements near and far, to say nothing of Goodneighbor, Diamond City, the Prydwen and the Castle! It would be an incredibly busy evening for certain. Hancock had arrived early with a posse of ragtag drifters from Goodneighbor, all of them offering gifts of food or scavenged ornaments to decorate. Hence the massive mound of lights that was currently being diligently sorted through.

  The aforementioned ghoul appeared to have delegated the task of quality checking the lights, as his form currently leaned against the faded blue siding of her house. With cigarette smoke wafting from his mouth and nasal cavity in equal amounts, he seemed content to just watch the chaos unfold. 

  "Aren't you a little chilly?" Backhand queried, raising an eyebrow. The mayor was still clad in his usual garb of...for lack of a better term, repurposed period dress. Granted it wasn't seasonably cold out, at least not like how she remembered it being before the bombs dropped.

  "Nah, we ghouls run pretty warm. Ham's like a portable space heater." Hancock answered, giving her a lazy grin. "Cute of you to worry, though. I must be growin' on ya'."

  "Whoa there, let's not get too crazy."

  "Whatcha' think, General?" Sturges shouted from his perch, waving to get her attention.

  Danse turned in place, appearing to realize that she was watching as his hands flew up and grabbed Shaun's legs, stabilizing the small boy on his shoulders. 

  Backhand couldn't keep from smiling when she called back, "it looks wonderful! Keep up the great work!"

  "That ain't the only thing that looks wonderful, right Sunshine?" Hancock snickered, rolling his eyes at the now-sputtering woman. "You better give the Brave Little Toaster the ride of his life, that's all I gotta' say."

  "Hancock!" Vega hissed, making a half-hearted swipe at the mayor. "You fuckin'--"

  "Ah ah, little pitchers!" Hancock scolded, tilting his head to the side to draw Vega's attention to the rapidly-approaching form of Duncan, MacCready's son. "Gotta' watch that mouth of yours, Sunshine."

  "This ain't over, ya' raisin-lookin' bastard." Backhand snarled under her breath, pasting on a friendly smile for Duncan while Hancock wheezed with laughter. "Hey bud, how's things?" She greeted the child, who grimaced. 

  "Dad's kissin' Miss Cait again. S'gross." The little boy announced, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

  "That does sound pretty gross." Hancock piped up before Backhand could reply. "But you like seein' your old man happy, right? The lady makes him happy. Simple as that."

  "Yeah, I guess. Can I play with Shaun?" Duncan asked Vega, eyes wide as he seemed to take in the tree covered with lights. 

  "Go ahead, kiddo! Just be careful and stay away from Sturges' ladder." Elizabeth warned, grinning when the little boy took off with a whoop. 

  Cait and MacCready strode up after a moment, both of them red-faced. MacCready bent double, his hands on his knees. "I'm not built for these bullsh--awful conditions." He panted. "I don't know how the kid does it. He was nearly dead a few months ago and now he's out here kicking the snow in the a--er, butt."

  Backhand glanced around, and then snorted. "You call this snow? It's a dusting. Back before-"

  "Ah ah, easy now Mumsicle, we ain't got time for yer trip down memory lane." Cait teased. "Work to be done, aye? C'mon then, General, shape up. What you doin' on the ground anyway, all crouched like a mother hen broodin'?"

  "I'm cooking." Vega replied tersely. 

  "Oh aye? Looks like yer shirkin' t' me, love. Codsy can manage that mess, c'mon." Cait seized her elbow, levering her up out of the snowy grass. "Now, what needs doin'?"

  ...

  The day was a whirlwind of arrivals, preparations and well wishers. Elder Brandis even stopped by briefly, taking precious time away from his all-consuming duties to distribute some useful supplies and catch up on the gossip. 

  The Diamond City trio graced Sanctuary with their presence shortly before noon, Nat scurrying off to play with Duncan and Shaun while Piper made a beeline for Hancock's merry band. Nick was more keen to meander around the outskirts of the groups forming, amber eyes taking in his surroundings.

  Preston appeared midafternoon with X6, Curie and the entire O'Brian clan in tow, later than expected but apparently they had stopped to help out a settlement along the way. 

  The cul-de-sac soon rang with the laughter of the rambunctious children; even little Siusan was permitted to briefly toddle about in the trampled snow under the watchful gaze of Eamon. The weather was chilly but the sun had broken through the clouds throughout the day, sending momentary waves of brilliance across the Commonwealth. 

  Every table and chair that could be salvaged had been assembled on the old foundation at the end of the cul-de-sac, and it was there that the adults began to gather as the sun set. Metal drums loaded with wood were lit, providing heat and illumination to the many guests of the Commonwealth's first official potluck dinner. 

  "Or rather," Piper amended, clearing her throat with a touch of self-importance as she tapped her notepad, "the first documented official potluck dinner."

  The large tree twinkled and shone in the fast-approaching darkness, the occasional flicker or broken bulb doing little to diminish the cheer it provided. The food was distributed, Backhand's roast chicken disappearing without a hitch. The young woman couldn't help doing a mental dance of victory, delighted that Codsworth's quick thinking had saved that particular endeavor.

  Vega found a place to sit somewhere in the middle of one of the many long tables, red from the praise of her companions and the persistent chill in the air. She got even redder when Preston loudly proclaimed a toast, to the General!, her lieutenant tipping his bottle and everyone else following suit. 

  "I remember when I first met the general, she was half-dead on her feet." Preston began the story, his smile fond. "Sturges couldn't even believe our luck. Hell, none of us could. When freedom called, our general answered!"

  Backhand, who had lived the story and knew all the ins and outs, found her attention wandering to Danse while Preston regaled the crowd with his tale. The paladin seemed to be listening closely, his meal forgotten. Deacon even began to thieve bits of chicken and tato out from beneath his nose, the Railroad agent shooting Vega a sly wink over his sunglasses. 

  Backhand shook her head at the other man's antics, then focused her attention on Preston. "...'Lurk queen, a huge, mean seabug, taken out by landmines! The Castle was ours once again, and we all had General Vega to thank for it." The lieutenant stated firmly. "The one who can get things done in the Commonwealth, the one who gave folks hope when it was in mighty short supply. We uh, we owe you a lot, ma'am." He raised his bottle once more. "To General Vega, leader of the Minutemen!"

  "To Elizabeth!" Hancock yelled, echoed by half the damn populace as Vega tried to wave it off, the young woman laughing awkwardly. "To our Sunshine, the hero of the Commonwealth!" 

  "Synth savior, a regular knight in shining armor." Deacon teased.

  "Well done, General Vega." Danse said warmly, "I can't know for certain whether the Brotherhood itself would be proud, but I certainly am." His praise for whatever reason made Vega's blush feel like it would scorch her skin. 

  Oh she knew damn well why, she was just being willfully oblivious at this point.

  "Speech! Speech! Is that not zee norm for zis sort of occasion?" Curie called, the diminutive synth currently sharing X6-88's coat as well as his plate of food. X6 didn't seem to have any reservations about the matter, his arm slung around her shoulders without a care in the world.

  Much to Vega's chagrin, the majority appeared to be in favor of such a vocal endeavor. She attempted to laugh off the suggestion to no avail, and finally got to her feet. "Alright, alright, settle down. I'll say a few words if it'll get you all off my damn back." She grumbled, her body thoroughly warm now with a combination of embarrassment and gratitude. "I uh…" 

  Vega trailed off as she looked out over the ragtag gang of expectant faces staring back at her. So many friends and neighbors, finally getting the chance to breathe. The chance to celebrate the fruits of their labor...it was sobering.

  "I can't thank you all enough for...well, for everything that you've done. You all sacrificed so much for this peace, stuff I could never imagine doing even before the bombs dropped." She cleared her throat. "My mentor, Sergeant Shaun Cathan, was a great man, and he often had some very succinct or choice words which I'm not about to repeat in polite company."

  "Aw c'mon-!" Zeke began to protest loudly, his voice fading as he noticed the small gaggle of children still gawking at his power armor.

  Backhand continued, her jaw set firmly, "but one thing I can say that he told me is this: a leader who permits their pride to impede their decisions is doomed to failure. Pride built the Institute, and that same pride rotted it to the core. Pride built the Brotherhood of Steel, the Minutemen, and we've seen the both of them nearly toppled." Vega clenched her fist. "Pride brought nuclear fire down on Boston, but people hauled themselves outta' the ashes of that fire. Good people, tough people. Folks I knew. Folks I cared for, even if some of 'em did spend a little too much time on the Cape. If pride can do so much effin' harm, I expect simple compassion and decency to do just as much good. Hell, more than that. Humanity's built itself back up after the cluster that was armageddon, and we ain't through yet." 

  She tipped the jar she had been drinking out of towards the crowd, sternly studying the collection of scavengers, families both new and familiar.

  ...

  "So here's to you, my friends. To all that you've done, and to all that you will do." 

  Vega's salute was rigid, pre-war. Like her helmet on the table beside her, scraped and covered in faded sigils. The mixture of candlelight and the lights on the tree reflected off the worn lenses of her glasses, shielding her eyes from view. Danse wished desperately that he could see her eyes; more than anything he wished to stand up and flat-out state what she had done for him to every soul there, display his...admiration. 

  Was that even the right word? Admiration, adoration, affection--

  His face was strangely warm all of a sudden. Danse flinched, staring down at his mug of coffee with single-minded intent as the buzz of conversation around him picked back up. His mind raced, pieces falling into place in a nigh-unstoppable rush.

  Affection. Like...what he had felt for Cutler? Almost. A little to the left of that. Brighter. 

  Happier. 

  Not perfect, nothing could ever be perfect. But...

  "Elizabeth Vega?" A male ghoul's voice barely penetrated the paladin's consciousness, his words not really registering until, "Beth, it really is you!" The ghoul exclaimed. "I thought I was crazy! It's me, Beth. It's Nate."

  "...Nate?" 

  Danse's head whipped up so fast his neck popped in warning, the paladin having been only tangentially aware of the conversation happening mere feet away from his position. But at that particular nickname his entire being snapped to attention, eyes darting sidelong from where he had been intently studying his mug of coffee. 

  The ghoul man that Vega was currently speaking to was an inch or two taller than her, with a single tuft of dark hair that still remained over his left ear. He appeared absolutely delighted, but Vega seemed...wary.

  "Beth," Danse heard him say once more, and he watched Backhand visibly tense. "I never thought I would see you again! After the bombs dropped--I mean how the hell did...is that Shaun? God, he got so big!"

  "Nate, is there something I can do for you?"

  Nate. 

  Danse's breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry. Nate? Nate her ex-husband from before the war? Nate, the man who had divorced her once he found out she was pregnant with his child? 

  Somehow he had managed to survive? 

  Oh, what an incredibly bitter thing to think! Danse was somewhat startled by his own dark path of reasoning. But it wasn't untrue; his mind railed at the unfairness of it all. 

  The paladin stood up, his mug of coffee forgotten. He wasn't exactly certain what he was about to do, but he also wasn't going to do nothing. He cast around wildly for a plan as he approached Elizabeth from behind around the table, and Danse latched onto what was probably the least intelligent course of action that he could have conjured up.

  "Elizabeth," the paladin called, loud enough to be heard over the general hubbub. She turned and Danse briefly spied a look of intense relief on her face before he enveloped her in his arms. "You appeared cold, figured I could warm you up a bit." He reasoned aloud, smiling benignly over her head at Nate. "Who's this?"

  Vega began to introduce him even with her face still comically buried in Danse's chest, "Nate, I'd like you to meet-"

  "Paladin Logan Danse, Northeastern chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Danse interrupted her smoothly, extending a hand to Nate. "I've heard a great deal about you, Nate. It's a privilege to meet you, and a welcome surprise to see that you endured the radiation."

  "Uh, is it? Well I-I guess it is." Nate looked flummoxed and crestfallen all at once, glumly shaking Danse's hand. "I suppose you two are, er..."

  "Vega is my partner, yes. For over a year now." Danse replied once the other man had trailed off, his tone saccharine-sweet. He heard Vega gasp against his chest. "She is a truly incredible woman. I'm immensely lucky."

  "Yeah, I...yeah. Uh, I have to go...talk to--I'll see you later, Beth." Nate squeaked, sidestepping away from the two of them and making a beeline for the road.

  "I can't even believe it." Backhand's voice grated with tangible irritation. "I cannot even fuckin' fathom--I...dammit, why him?!" She seethed into Danse's jacket, clenching her fists on his hips. "Phew, boy, I sort of thought I'd already dealt with all that resentment." The woman admitted unhappily.

  "You do things in your own time." Danse replied quietly. "Are you alright?"

  Vega went still for a second. Danse felt her unclench her fists, hands going slack on his body. Had he misspoken-?

  "In my own time, huh?" Vega muttered, almost like she was thinking out loud. "I...I'll be back in a little while, Danse."

  …

  I'm not panicking. Definitely not panicking. One hundred percent not panicking, totally fine.

  Backhand scurried away from the paladin, trying to hide the tell-tale redness of her face. She needed to find either Mrs. O'Brian or MacCready, fast. 

  As luck would have it, MacCready found her. The former merc tapped on her shoulder as she bounced up on her tiptoes to search for Mrs. O'Brian. "Hey boss, Shaun wanted me to ask you if he could sleep over with Duncan tonight." The man began after she whirled around to face him.

  "Yes." Vega replied, perhaps a little too quick and definitely too enthusiastic. "Mac you're a lifesaver, I was just about to ask-"

  "-for me and Cait to watch your kid so you and the tin can can get some alone time?" MacCready smirked, giving her a wink. "Dang General, I don't think I've ever seen you so red! Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

  "Shut up, Mac, you're so exasperating." Backhand jabbed a teasing finger into the center of his chest. "You talk, Mayor, and I'll know." The threat was toothless; the both of them grinned at each other after their fierce staring contest. "Thanks for everything."

  "Don't mention it. I figure getting you some Brotherhood...uh, Steel, heh, is a pretty decent way to make up for the fact that I didn't bring you a present." Mac shrugged, fiddling with the bill of his hat. "I have beef with the Capital Brotherhood, but these guys...I mean, they don't seem all bad." He allowed grudgingly, giving Vega a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Go on."

  A bracing shot of whiskey shored up her tenuous spark of confidence and Vega marched back to Danse, the large man now engaged in conversation with X6 while Shaun, Duncan, Bridget, Nat and Matthew swirled around their ankles. 

  Danse was saying, "--collateral ramifications would be inadvisable, I suggest a soft breach. With adequate preparation-" 

  "Adequate preparation on your part borders on over-caution." X6 interrupted him dismissively. "However, I will take it into account and speak with Preston on the matter. He seems to share your morality. A pity."

  "Play at the unfeeling machine all you want, X6." Danse retorted. "It does you no favors. You have people who care about you now, and you would not have asked for my input if you believed the endeavour would be futile."

  "True enough, Paladin." The vaguest hint of a smile tugged at X6's mouth. "You are capable."

  "I suppose that is the best that I can hope for."

  "Hey, Danse? Can I uh, have a little chat?" Backhand asked, stifling a hysterical giggle when Danse immediately looked guilty. The paladin nodded, bidding X6 farewell and attempting to sidestep around the children who were currently playing tag in an ever-tightening circle. "Not um, here though. Let's go to my house, okay? Shaun, you're all set to stay overnight with Duncan, Mac and Cait, right?"

  "Yeah!" Shaun replied breathlessly, pausing in his chase to give his mother a massive grin. "Already brought my blankets over and everything. Mister MacCready said Duncan and I could sleep in their wagon, and that he'd tell us Grognak stories!"

  Danse's brow furrowed. "We are leaving the gathering, then?" He asked, looking a bit distressed when Elizabeth nodded. "A moment, please." He turned back to the children, calling for Shaun. 

  The boy bolted away from the group, skidding in the muddy slush. "Yeah, Mister Danse?" He asked, his impatience plain.

  "I, er. I...happy holidays." The paladin mumbled, extracting a small bundle from his jacket pocket and giving it to the child. 

  "Whoa, for me?!" Shaun practically crowed, tearing through the old newspaper to reveal the gift.

  It was a sturdy carved vehicle, its edges sleek and smooth. The wood was coated in shiny green paint, giving the little truck a distinct air of newness in this post-apocalyptic world. Danse swallowed audibly as Shaun stared down at the toy without saying a word. 

  Backhand closed her eyes, hoping and praying that the kid remembered his manners. She hadn't even known Danse had planned on giving him something. Did he make the truck himself? It was wood, not the usual plastic or aluminum of pre-war children's toys. When had he found the time to make a toy? She suddenly remembered his uncharacteristically wide yawn that morning and her eyes flew open, darting to look at Danse. He had been staying up, hadn't he?

  "I love it, Mister Danse!" Shaun interrupted her mental panic with his enthusiastic eruption, smiling wide and bolting forward to hug Danse around the waist. Danse's own relief was evident, the large man patting the child on the back with an awkward chuckle.

  Oh Jesus, I'm not going to cry, Vega insisted, taking a deep breath. Nope, won't do it.

  "Mom look, look what Mister Danse gave me!" Shaun exclaimed, as if she hadn't been standing right there the whole time. 

  "It's really cool, right?" Backhand grinned, rumpling his hair and then giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth before bed, okay? I hope you and Duncan have fun. I love you." 

  "I love you too, Mom, I will. Thank you again, Mister Danse!" Shaun rushed to say, clearly eager to return to his friends. 

  "Alright, go on." Vega tapped the end of his nose, "go have fun." She watched him scramble through the slush, nearly tripping again. "Jesus, he's a bull in a china shop," she sighed, making Danse snort. "Shall we, Paladin?"

  He fell into step beside her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his back ramrod straight. He was silent until they were actually in Elizabeth's living room, the young woman barely able to shut the front door before he started babbling, "if I offended you earlier, if I-I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I just recalled what you had said about the name he used for you and I'm afraid I started moving before I could reconsider-"

  "Danse, do you remember how we started all of this?" Vega cut off what promised to be a downright incredible justification, cocking her head to the side. "How we met, and what happened?"

  "You came to our aid at the Cambridge police station. Then you carried on assisting me with our mission. You helped acquire the deep range transmitter. You greased my armor." Danse paused, fidgeting. "You...said it was alright if I wanted to kiss you."

  “It’s alright if you want to kiss me, you know.” Her smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  Vega nodded, smiling once more. "The offer still stands, naturally."

  "I...things are different now. I'm different. You still...even now, after everything that you know about me?"

  "Of course."

  "I didn't want to believe you felt that strongly about our...about us." Danse was smiling, actually smiling! "I'd given up hope a long time ago that I would ever be enough for anyone. I was never...enough. Smart enough, or strong enough or...well, just enough, I suppose." He shrugged, his smile fading. "With what happened between Maxson and I, and previously with Cutler…" The large man trailed off.

  Vega took a deep breath, nodding furiously. "I do feel strongly for you. Danse, I know that this is a lot, b-but I...uh, I think I love you." She gestured up and down at the speechless paladin, feeling the heat that bloomed fresh on her cheeks. "Not just the wrapping, y'know, but uh. The whole package. You."

  His look of shock and confusion slowly dissolved into something unreadable, and he broke eye contact for a moment to stare down at his boots. 

  "Uh, it's okay if you don't reciprocate! O-Or even if you can't reciprocate, I'm not going to be offended!" Elizabeth rushed to add, waving her hands nervously. "I know that this is a lot to dump on you all at once, I-I'm sorry. I don't want you feeling pressured to give me an affirmative answer just because you don't want to hurt my feelings or whatever."

  "I...I can't say that I haven't thought about it." He admitted softly. "But Shaun, he needs--Vega, I'm not really human." 

  "Neither is Shaun, but I don't love him any less." Elizabeth replied. "Shaun is my son. For all intents and purposes, he is my real son, Danse."

  "It's one thing to overlook it for a child, Vega. But I'm...what if something goes wrong with me? What if there's some sort of fault in my programming, and that's why I'm like this? What if-"

  "It's alright if you don't want me, or even if this is too much right now. I know, it's a lot." Vega interrupted him, her heart sinking but determined to make damn sure he didn't feel pressured.

  "Christ, that's not what I meant. I just want to make certain you know exactly what it is that you're agreeing to." Danse cut her off, his shoulders rigid like he was bracing for impact. 

  "I understand, Danse. I've understood for a while now." Elizabeth dared to rest her hand on his arm. "I want to be with you. I know that nothing in this shitshow of a future is guaranteed and I want to have something good in my life before my inevitable demise at the hands of some overconfident mole rat."

  Danse nodded stiffly, and then grabbed her by the lapels of her canvas coat. Vega found herself abruptly pinned against the wall, Danse's mouth hungrily seeking her own. "You mean that?" He panted.

  The brush of the stubble on his face reminded her of their first kiss in the Cambridge station and drove home the differences between he and Nate for the hundredth time. Nate was always clean-shaven, favored pecks on the cheek and lived saturated with cologne. But Danse was grizzled, earnest, reeking of the outdoors and power armor grease. Nate had been eloquent, while Danse was taciturn or tripped over his words. Nate was cold and calculating, and Danse…

  Danse was fiery and raw, more vulnerable now than she could ever recall him being before. His knee nudged against her thigh and without conscious input, Elizabeth parted her legs for it and threw her arms around his neck to try to urge him even closer. "Yes, Danse," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, yes, fuck-ing shit--"

  She ground herself down against his leg, relieved that everything seemed to be functioning normally and somewhat impressed by her body's ability to mount such a rapid response after a two hundred-plus year dry spell! 

  "Language," Danse rumbled in reply, his hands tugging her heavy coat off of her shoulders. "Too fast?"

  "No, hell no!" Backhand protested, "not fast enough."

  "Shh," Danse rested his hands on her hips, shoving up her shirt slightly so he could touch bare skin. "I have you, Vega." Vega pushed herself excitedly into his grip, grinding on his thigh and arching her back. The way his breath hitched sent shockwaves to her core; the way he watched her...

  "Danse we should...we should-" Vega's voice wavered as Danse laved her throat with tender kisses. "-should--bedroom, bed."

  "Yes." The paladin growled, making no move to actually follow the direction. That is, until he hoisted her up to rest on his hips. 

  Backhand yelped, her thighs gripping his sides tightly. "H-Hey!"

  Danse pressed his forehead to her own, brown eyes attempting to read her soul. "Elizabeth…" he sighed, his expression gone hopelessly soft. "I should warn you, if we...if you do this, I...listen, I can be a little--a little wordy, sometimes. If I am speaking too much-"

  "Hey, no, you talk as much as you'd like, okay? Doesn't bug me at all." Vega assured him, slightly curious about what this might mean. Wordy? 

  "Elizabeth, you are everything that I never knew I was looking for." Danse murmured. "When I lost Cutler, I didn't think I deserved to be happy again. I assumed that my failure would continue to darken any future triumph, and when the majority of Gladius was...I feared that I was unfit for my rank. How could anyone have faith in my skills after such a catastrophic loss of life?"

  "It's hard being the one making the choices. You have to be able to bear the burden of responsibility and also the burden of guilt." Vega reasoned, sympathizing with his plight.

  "You had faith in me, though. You didn't even know me, but you didn't judge me for my inadequacy and you allowed me some damn peace. I'm just sorry you had to go through that abuse at Maxson's whim for my sake." Danse cupped her hand in his own, pressing kisses to her scarred knuckles. "You've already done so much for me, Vega. Let me undo you?" He offered seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  "Well, I uh, I-I can't say I've ever been propositioned quite like that!" Backhand stuttered, certain that her flush covered her entire body at this point. 

  His laughter, heard so rarely, washed over her like a tidal wave. "Forgive me."

  "Only if you keep asking me to have sex like that." Vega shifted her hand in his grip, intertwining their fingers. "C'mon, bedroom."

  "It's not just that." Danse tried to protest, shaking his head. "I care about you. About your wellbeing. I want to make you happy."

  "You do. So happy. I'm so glad that you're here with me still." Vega turned in the doorway of her room when he set her down, seizing Danse by the collar of his worn t-shirt and tugging him into her arms. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Danse."

  "You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that." 

  "It's the truth, though!" She insisted.

  Danse surged forward, his kisses still rough and demanding as he fought to claim her affection. But she gave it freely, all he could ever want and more.

  He stripped her of her shirt and dragged his own off over his head, chuckling at the way she greedily drank in the bare skin he presented. "See something you like, General?" 

  He was hairier than she was used to, but Backhand decided it suited him. Nate, after all, had been absolutely adamant that body hair was grotesque, and now look at him. He'd likely never have to worry about that again.

  Thinking of Nate yet again put a frown on her face and Danse paused, giving her a quizzical look. "Is something amiss?"

  "Oh! No, I'm sorry. I was just remembering. Nate was all…" Elizabeth gestured vaguely at Danse's chest. "He shaved everything. I'm not used to all...well, seeing so much."

  "Is it off-putting? I assure you it's within the Brotherhood's hygiene guidelines, but if you don't like it I-"

  "No, I love it. It's new. I've seen your arms, after all, I knew what I was getting into." Vega teased, grinning to ease his worry. "If you can accept all my stretch marks and leftovers, I can definitely handle your chest pelt."

  "I'm planning on doing far more than accepting." Danse cradled her breasts in his palms, the paladin lowering his head to draw his tongue over one of her nipples. "I don't care." He soothed when Elizabeth tried to stammer out something else in regard to her stretch marks. "I don't care. It doesn't make you any less desirable to me, Elizabeth."

  Vega squeezed her eyes shut, kissing his forehead as he continued to cautiously rouse her peaks until they were stiff and aching for more. Then his thumbs took over, stroking in slow, firm circles that made her quiver from head to toe. "You...you're really good at that." Elizabeth said faintly.

  "I'm pleased you think so." Danse grunted when her fingers found his belt buckle. "It has been a significant amount of time for me as well, I...my excitement may be a bit obvious." He admitted, his smile sheepish. 

  Vega's breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling as she struggled to draw down the worn zipper of his jeans. The underside of his cock throbbed against her palm when she dared to slip her hand into his briefs, his skin searing and smooth. 

  Danse huffed out a breath, crumpling a little at her tentative touch. "Elizabeth," he groaned, hiding his face in her neck as he rolled his hips eagerly into her hand. 

  "Keep saying my name like that." She ordered, laughing when the paladin nodded rapidly into her shoulder. "I love you, Danse."

  ...

  Danse rumbled again, words failing him while Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around his cock. This seemed like a dream, another one of his fantasies brought into being. He couldn't seem to do anything aside from stare down at her hand. 

  "Hey, Danse?"

  He jerked to attention, eyes flying up to meet her own guiltily. "Y-Yes, Vega?" He stuttered.

  "Do you...uh, y'know." Backhand fumbled to undo the button on her jeans. "You can, if you'd like." She finished awkwardly.

  No sooner had she given him permission than Danse was pulling her hand out of his pants, urging her backwards onto her bed even as he kissed her battered knuckles again. "Yes." He grated out, kneeling to untie her boots so he could get her pants off. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

  "A for enthusiasm, big guy." Elizabeth teased, lazily fingercombing his short hair back. Her veneer of composure was shattered when the paladin eased her underwear down her legs, the young woman covering her face as if she was embarrassed. "Listen, just uh, go easy on me. It's been over two hundred years, after all." She reasoned weakly.

  Danse swallowed hard. Cutler had always praised his dirty talk, the calculated way he could take apart a person with his words and touch alone. Maxson hadn't appreciated his speech, granted, but perhaps…

  "You're saying you don't want me to bury my fingers in you, Elizabeth? You don't want me to open you up, work my way into that beautiful, flushed little cunt of yours?" Danse rasped, two fingers tracing lightly on her pubic mound. Her cesarean scar was faintly visible, and he felt a brief flare of concern before recalling that was indeed where the scar was from.

  "Oh, Jesus. Okay." Vega gasped, blue eyes wide in what Danse could only assume was shock. "Keep that up and you won't have to worry about using anything else. Fuck, Danse, have some pity here." She pleaded, burying her hands in her hair. 

  "Language. Do you deserve my pity? How would you earn it?" The paladin queried, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her mound now. 

  "I can be good, Paladin! I can be really good. So good." Her breathless use of his title had Danse's cock pounding, though he tried not to make it obvious. "Please Danse, please touch me…"

  Danse climbed up onto the bed alongside her, gently parting her labia with his fingers. "You'll be good for me, Elizabeth?" He asked, propping himself up with an elbow.

  "Yes, please."

  She had wonderful manners. Danse grazed her clit and her breath stuttered, the paladin spreading the liberal lubrication that she had already created with deft, slow strokes of his index. "Please, what?"

  "P-Please...Danse."

  He cautiously eased one finger into her, exhaling raggedly when her hand sought out his cock. "Vega-"

  "Shh, let me." Elizabeth hushed him, her smile a little dreamy as Danse crooked his finger and rubbed in just the right spot. "Oh, f-uck, Paladin, you--"

  "Language, Vega. Can't have you being a bad example while I'm knuckle deep in your cunt." Danse admonished, groaning when she whimpered. "You're so tight, this could take ages. We'll need to come up with some stretches to cope with this." He teased gruffly, sliding in another finger and spreading her open. "Mm, Elizabeth, you need to relax. Relax." He murmured, latching onto her breast.

  He felt her pussy clench down around his fingers and he took a greedy suckle from her breast, making Vega cry out his name, "Danse!" She twitched and writhed under his deft attack, her thighs quivering even as she tried to spread them wider for him. Her hand fell still on his cock, not that Danse minded. It had always been more about his partner, he couldn't care less if nothing was done for him. Watching someone else fall apart because of him...now that was its own reward.

  "What do I need to do to get you there, hmm?" Danse taunted playfully, tonguing sloppily over the peak of her breast. "What will it take, Elizabeth?"

  She arched her back in response, pressing her breast firmly against his mouth, and Danse gently nibbled on the sensitive area she had offered up. Elizabeth sobbed out, shoving one hand down to her cunt to spread herself even wider for his plundering fingers. "More, Danse! Please please please-" she begged, her moan when he pressed a third finger into her absolutely enough to have Danse hurrying to talk himself down. "Yes, Danse." She was practically growling, her arousal something primal and untamed. 

  If Danse had his way, it would stay like that forever. 

  "What is it that you want, Vega?" His inquiry was almost lazy, three fingers stroking in and out with much less resistance now. "Hmm, I wonder if you're wet enough to take me."

  "You can't just-" Vega made a noise of dismay. "That's not fair, Danse, that's not fair, you know it's not. Please, please fuck me." 

  Jesus. Danse almost choked on his own breath, letting his fingers slip out of her cunt. "How do you want me?" His voice broke noticeably. It felt like a lifetime since he had been desired, wanted in such a blatant and strangely pure fashion. She loved him. She wanted him inside her. Wanted him to make love to her. Wanted him.

  The speed at which she flung herself up a little higher on the bed made Danse want to laugh, but then she was arching her back and looking over her shoulder at him and he suddenly forgot how to breathe for a moment. "This okay?" She panted, brown hair all tumbled around her face as she took off her glasses and pitched them in the general direction of her bedside table.

  Danse nodded hurriedly, kicking his pants off. "If you need me to stop, just grab my hand." He instructed.

  "This isn't exactly my first time getting fucked, Danse-"

  "Language," the paladin reprimanded her with a chuckle, greedily fondling her rear as he mounted up behind her. "You have such a beautiful form, Vega." He murmured, leaning over to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "An absolute vision."

  "I do have nice tits." 

  Danse rolled his eyes, slipping his hands down to grope said breasts. She gasped out, rocking back against him as he agreed, "yes you do, that can't be denied. Soft, the perfect size, they fit in my hands so well, and so sensitive." He found himself laughing when she whimpered again. "Don't offer up all your weak spots unless you want them taken advantage of, Vega."

  "The only thing I want to take advantage of right now is the raging hard-on I can feel." Elizabeth wriggled and Danse grunted, shuddering. "Pl-ease Danse, please put it in me."

  The paladin slipped his cock between her labia, the hot, slick flesh pressing against him mercilessly as he teased her. He suddenly felt her fingers on his cock and then-

  "Fuck." The paladin grated out the uncharacteristic curse through his teeth, his fists meeting the bedding on either side of her body as he fought the urge to thrust himself home in one breath.

  Elizabeth half-collapsed while he slowly, slowly rutted into her, the woman panting and clawing at the blankets. "Mmmgod, Danse-" she slurred, sighing loudly. "So good, fuck, Danse…"

  Danse toyed with her nipples, stupidly snarling "language," as she keened in reply. "I'll take care of you, Elizabeth. Be good for me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, smirking at the way her body quaked when he finally bottomed out in her. "That's it, look at you, taking all of me so well," he praised. "Now, how can I make you come?"

  "Fu--Please use your big cock to get me off, oh please Danse!" She begged and Danse fondled her breasts yet again.

  "You don't want me to touch you here, just like this?" He asked, stroking over her nipples and lingering to tease the area. "They're so hard, though, begging for my attention."

  Backhand made a noise of despair, burying her face in her pillow. 

  "I think you need me to play with them, don't you? You like when I touch them like this." Danse muttered, thinking out loud and coming to that realization even as the words left his mouth. "What is it about it that you like?"

  "S-Sensitive." Vega whimpered, "feels good."

  Danse rumbled again, bending over to press his chest to her back so he could whisper in her ear, "does it feel good when I'm inside you, Elizabeth? Can you feel how hard I am for you? Feel how badly I need you?" 

  Elizabeth gifted him this pitiful sound, canting her hips and clenching down around his cock so tightly it took Danse's breath away. "Yes, I love it. I need you too, Danse." She murmured, shifting back and forth ever so slightly.

  "Good. I'm glad." Danse took hold of her hips, seating his cock as deeply as he could in her cunt. Elizabeth whined, burying her face in her pillow again as he slowly began to make love to her. 

  Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never been a man who took sex lightly. It was too important. Even after everything that had happened with Maxson, Danse still held to that belief. The display of vulnerability, the offer of power in exchange for pleasurable release, the brief moments of tenderness in an existence that was soul-crushingly difficult…

  It was serious. It always was. 

  Vega's arms gave out and she slumped onto the bed, but Danse followed her down. Covering her with his body, the paladin thrust into her again and again, her soft whimpers and cries of his name music to his ears. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He asked raggedly when she began to squirm and arch back against him. "What can I give you, Elizabeth?"

  "Fuck me, Danse!" She pleaded, turning her head to the side so she could see him. 

  "Language," Danse smiled, kissing her temple again. "But understood, ma'am."

  …

  For the first time since she'd awoken to an irradiated hellscape, Vega was wholly content to just lay down and be taken care of. 

  Danse was huge, proportionate to his already overgrown size, and he made the most incredible sounds when she inadvertently squeezed down on him. Groans burring in his chest like some untamed animal; he seemed content to just slowly fuck her into oblivion. Which was honestly more than she thought she would ever get. 

  Her fantasies, much as she'd believed they were wrong or silly at the time, didn't hold a candle to the reality of having Danse on top of her. She had gotten off more than once to this exact idea, being dominated and pinned by the massive paladin. This was a dream come true.

  Elizabeth whined when he bottomed out in her again and just rutted himself back and forth slightly, making her feel every inch of his cock. The underside of his dick throbbed against the spot that made her see stars and then, the bastard, he slid his cock out of her cunt to press the head to her clit for a second. "Turn over for me?" He requested, punctuated by a gentle smack to her ass.

  Vega rushed to obey, eager to have him back inside her as quickly as possible. The woman spread her legs wide so Danse could settle in between them and when the paladin did, he shifted upwards to kiss her tenderly. 

  "I've wanted this for so long." He admitted quietly.

  "So have I!" Elizabeth replied in delight, her grin beaming. She was sure she looked like a mess, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and her face all flushed. But the way Danse was smiling at her…

  She found she didn't really care about her appearance at this point in time.

  "I love you." Danse murmured as he slid back inside her. 

  "I l-love you, Danse." Vega stuttered, the natural curvature of his cock applying steady pressure to her g-spot. "Make me feel so good, fuck."

  "Language." He growled, making her laugh and then moan. 

  "Feels too good, brain can't cope." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him closer until all he could do was grind down into her in a merciless manner. The motion flung her towards her peak, disconnecting her mouth even further from her brain and making her ramble into his ear, "God, I love you so much, make me feel so good--"

  "I love you too, Elizabeth." He panted into the hollow of her throat, "you feel incredible. Outstanding."

  Elizabeth wasn't sure how she could feel both so aroused she thought she might die and so annoyed that she wanted to explode. "Danse, did you just call my pussy outstanding?"

  "It's not an incorrect statement, from my perspective. It's perfect. Wet and tight and hot." The paladin praised her freely, a hand lowering to apply gentle pressure over the scar on her lower stomach. "Beautiful."

  I am not going to cry, Vega told herself sternly as she hid her face in Danse's neck. Definitely not going to cry, not going to.

  A sob somehow escaped her as she came and Danse froze, his whole body flinching when her cunt clenched down on his dick. "V...Vega?" He asked tentatively.

  "I'm fine! I'm fine, I promise, m'not hurt or anything. My brain is just dumb." Elizabeth hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. "I'm okay, Danse, I'm fine."

  The paladin seemed uncertain and she couldn't blame him, she didn't seem fine even if she felt a thousand times better than she had in literal months. 

  "I swear I'm okay, that was just...it was really intense, y'know?" She mumbled awkwardly, unable to make eye contact anymore. 

  She felt Danse shift his weight and then he settled down on top of her, holding her close and tight. "You're sure?" He murmured, "if you're overwhelmed, that's entirely acceptable. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

  "No, shit no, you feel incredible. I'm not going to be able to walk after this." Vega huffed, giggling a little when he rolled his eyes. "Keep going, okay? It feels fantastic."

  "If you're certain." Danse acquiesced, kissing a hot trail down her neck when she nodded. "Let me know if you need me to stop." 

  Watching his forearms cord with muscle as he propped himself back up again, Vega's mouth went dry. "I have to say, this might be the best night of my life." 

  Danse pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the action a wonderful contrast to the needy way he sheathed his cock in her body once more. "I've thought about this." He confessed again, punctuated by a roll of his hips. "What you'd sound like, look like beneath me. You put my imagination to shame." 

  "What did I do in your dreams?" Backhand asked, unable to keep from breathlessly laughing when Danse hid his face in her neck. "So shy, Paladin! Even with that huge cock in me?"

  "It's lewd, Elizabeth, I-I'm not proud of it." He mumbled. "Shouldn't have thought of you that way." He spread her legs wider, one hand on the back of each knee to urge her to bend. 

  "Mm, you thought about fucking me? Nice to know I'm not the only one with dirty thoughts." 

  "I did not." He protested staunchly. His cock slid back and forth between her pussy lips in a purposeful teasing motion. "I thought about how...I thought about how good it would feel to make love to you." He continued, his voice wavering slightly as his dick brushed her entrance and he plunged deep yet again. "Thought about how good I could make you feel."

  Now it was Vega's turn to be shy, the woman looking away from him and flushing.

  "It was still inappropriate at the...time, but I assure you it was never about that. I am not-" Danse struggled for a moment to find the words, before he sighed and rested his forehead against her own. "This already isn't simple, and I know I make it miles less so. Forgive me."

  "I feel like it's pretty simple." Vega gasped, twitching as his fingers landed on her clit. "I f--fuck, Danse--I feel like it's real simple. You like me. Love me, yeah?"

  "It's more than that, dammit." Danse growled, rubbing her clit in merciless circles. "What you did for me...how can I ever be worth your affection? Hell, your time?"

  Elizabeth threw her head back, arching her entire body up into his chest. "Whatever good I give to you," she moaned, almost exasperated that they were even having this discussion, "you deserve it. Take it." 

  Danse's hands latched down on her hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over her pronounced stretch marks as he fucked into her so fiercely that Vega swore she saw stars. His pelvis ground against her own, body hair providing a delicious new sensation that had Vega grasping at the blankets in an effort to keep herself grounded. "I'm going to come, Elizabeth." Danse panted. "Where do you-"

  "Inside." Backhand implored him, "come inside me, Paladin, please come inside me-" Her voice broke as she begged and Danse groaned loud, the sound incredulous.

  "You...inside? Are you sure?" He asked through gritted teeth, dark brown eyes conveying his uncertainty. In reply, Vega dug the heels of her feet in beneath his rear, effectively locking him in place. 

  She caught a handful of his hair, gently tugging it until he leaned down again so she could seethe in his ear, "yes."

  "Oh, dammit." With that wonderfully characteristic swear, Danse shoved his mouth against hers gracelessly. The heat in her belly spilled over from the onslaught of his enthusiastic thrusts and Backhand cried out, fingernails digging into his back when she came a second time. 

  Danse, either spurred on by her sounds or by the way her pussy gripped his dick (maybe a combination? Backhand mused) found his release seconds after, his voice breaking and dropping into a lower tone as he moaned her name. Her real name.

  Elizabeth.

  Vega cupped the nape of his neck, guiding his face into the hollow of her shoulder. "Lay down, sweetheart, you're shaking." She murmured, stroking over his quivering back.

  "Don't want to flatten you." Danse rasped, his dick still throbbing inside her.

  "Lay down. It's okay." Elizabeth flexed her bicep. "I'm strong, I can handle it." Danse laughed wearily, almost immediately going limp on top of her. She wrapped her arms back around him, fingers digging into the knots that she found to ease out the tension. "There, isn't that better?"

  "Mmmmuch." Danse slurred into her neck, sounding exhausted. "Love you."

  "I love you. Sleep, okay? We'll get cleaned up later. Right now though you seem like you could use a nap."

  Danse nodded, the tangled mess of his hair mashed flat against her cheek in the process. "Want...to be a good parent." He mumbled several minutes later, just as Vega had thought he was dozing off. Danse propped himself up with one arm, cradling Vega's cheek in his palm. His thumb absently traced the cryo burn marks from the stasis as he continued, "a true partner for you. I don't know if you...if you even want me in that capacity, I--I don't know whether you would prefer that Shaun thinks of me as simply your friend, but I-"

  "Danse," Elizabeth interrupted him sternly, raising an eyebrow. "Someone who's simply a friend wouldn't be balls deep in me."

  Danse sputtered, his blush spreading down his neck to his chest. Despite his proclivity for dirty talk in the moment, he was endearingly embarrassed by her blunt words. Vega felt her heart pound as he floundered to collect himself, the large man looking away. 

  He's really nothing at all like Nate.

  "Danse." Her voice was gentler this time, unmistakable affection bleeding through. "I would have to ask Shaun, of course, and I'd like to have an adjustment period before I do so that he can get comfortable with the idea on his own, but…" The young woman swallowed hard. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Oh sure, she could handle the vulnerability of being naked and fucked with absolute abandon but this? This was where her brain drew the line? Unbelievable, Backhand grumbled at herself. "I think the odds are in your favor." She concluded with a grin.

  "You...even though I'm not-?"

  "He's probably the last person to care about that kinda' stuff, Danse. C'mon." Vega chided, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. "Now. We are...absolutely disgusting. We need a bath big time."

  "I...you're right, of course." Danse agreed absently, still seeming shocked at the whole scenario. "I should...w-we should bathe. Er, at the same time. To save water." He didn't meet her eyes, his attention focused somewhere by her left shoulder. 

  Elizabeth laughed, bumping their foreheads together before carefully scooting up the bed. His cock slipped out of her and she couldn't help her sigh, the noise echoed by the paladin who tilted his chin to catch her with a kiss.

  "You are amazing." He breathed when they parted, his smile small but sincere. "I'm...I'll be hard-pressed to keep my hands off you, Elizabeth."

  "Why bother?" Vega asked, chuckling as he ducked back in for another kiss. 

  ...

  Hours later, Danse laid awake while Elizabeth slept peacefully on his chest. The paladin stared up at the ceiling, his mind running rampant.

  The future.

  He hadn't really dared to think about it since discovering his true identity. Hadn't felt like it was something he deserved. After all, if he was just a machine, it hardly mattered. But Elizabeth…

  She thought it mattered. She wanted him. Wanted him to stay with her. Wanted him to act as a father. Pending Shaun's approval, of course. 

  It was surreal how much his life had changed, how far they had come in such a short amount of time. Danse was a little overwhelmed by it all, if he was being honest. Scared, yet hopeful at the same time. And, he thought as he wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, incredibly, immensely grateful.

  This new world was unforgiving, the universe coldly testing the mettle of a man time and again. But Danse had finally come out the other side, and he liked to think he had changed for the better. 

  Whatever the future held, they would face it together. 

  Ad Victoriam, General Vega. Thank you for having faith in me.

[flowerfan2]

We’re getting close to the end, folks!  Chapter 17 of 20 is up.  This one features some cuddles/comfort, a trip to NYC, a sparkling holiday party, and a romantic dance.  Enjoy!

David x Patrick, A03, 5k this chapter.

Chapter 17

David is sitting outside on the lanai, drinking his coffee and ignoring Alexis’ texts.  He doesn’t know how to answer her question.  He’s not sure why she thinks that texting him about the same thing over and over will make any difference, when he clearly told her, three days ago, to stop bothering him about it.

The problem is that he’s running out of time to make a decision, although in a way that’s a decision in itself.  He knows that the adult thing to do is to talk to Patrick about it, but if a little more time goes by, he won’t have to.

It’s only a few days away from one of his family’s most honored traditions, their annual holiday party, which has now become the Rose Motel Group holiday party.  This year, it’s at a trendy club in New York City, and it promises to be even more spectacular than ever.  David is expected to attend, whether he’s working remotely in Florida or not.

Of course, his parents would understand if he didn’t come… but he’ll pay the price, he knows it.  His father will have that sad look of disappointment, and his mother will be hurt, but hide it under fancy words and an extra ridiculous outfit.  And he really can’t stand the thought of upsetting Alexis.

It’s not only guilt, either.  David misses his family.  For better or worse, they have continued to be close since their days in Schitt’s Creek, and it’s not all due to concern about David’s mental health.  David genuinely enjoys their company, most of the time, and he’s come to rely on them.  Especially Alexis.

David had managed to put the holiday party completely out of his mind until Alexis started texting him about it.  Apparently his father finally caught on to the fact that he hadn’t committed, and put her on the case.  It’s been easy not to think about it, or anything to do with his old, sad, non-Patrick life, here in sunny Florida where the Christmas decorations look wildly out of place on the palm trees.  Even Patrick’s thoughtful gift of a menorah hadn’t overcome David’s willful not-thinking-about the holidays, annual festivities included.

He’s so happy here, with Patrick and no one else, in their bubble of suburban domesticity.  They pretty much do whatever they want, no one stopping in to put demands on them, no one asking questions.  Sure, they spend some time working during the day, but they’re never more than a few feet apart, unless one of them leaves the house to run a quick errand.  It’s not very realistic, and it might well have backfired, but so far it hasn’t.

Frankly David finds it comforting that Patrick is here, safe from all the demons that have been troubling him.  Although now he has to rewrite that story a bit, seeing as Marcy’s heath scare happened here in Florida.  But at least Patrick is far away from the site of his employment melt-down and his ill-fated night on the town with his cousin, cocooned in this little bubble where David can keep a close eye on him.

He worries about Patrick.  Over the past few weeks the Patrick he used to know is making his appearance more and more, but he’s still not the same.  Almost worse than the quiet sadness he sees in his eyes when he thinks David isn’t looking is the tentative surprise he shows when something goes right.  

It’s ironic, David thinks, that now, more than three years after their break-up, Patrick is the more damaged one.  It’s not what he ever imagined, when he thought about their future.  In the hazy mist of his imagination, Patrick was always and forever steady, guiding David through the stormy waters of his turbulent life.  (David acknowledges that his imagination is prone to purple prose.)  But life didn’t turn out that way, and he can only thank the universe that fate and shitty weather in Milwaukee brought them together again.  

David finishes his coffee and goes into the house, toeing off his shoes just inside the door.  He makes a cup of deliciously scented jasmine tea for Patrick, and heads back into the bedroom.

Patrick is still in bed, curled up in a ball with the duvet almost covering his face.  He hadn’t wanted to get up when the alarm went off, muttering to David that he didn’t have to do any work until the afternoon, and burrowing back down into the blankets.

David puts the tea down on the nightstand and slides under the covers, spooning up against Patrick’s back.  He moves slowly, trying to gauge whether his presence is welcome or not.  He knows Patrick isn’t actually asleep – his eyes flickered open when David entered the room.  The fact that he’s still in bed despite this isn’t a tremendously good sign, but David knows all too well how sometimes just getting out of bed can seem overwhelming.

To an outsider, he thinks that Patrick probably seems fine.  He is taking care of himself, doing what needs to be done in the house, and even starting a new job.  He gives the impression to others that he is completely in control, friendly and capable – and David thinks that more and more, it’s not a façade.  But David sees these moments, too, when it’s all just too much.

He curls his hand around Patrick’s arm, gently.  “Hey,” he whispers.  “I brought you some tea, if you want it.”

No reaction.

“Or you can just nap for a while.”

Patrick stirs, inching back towards David.  

“Okay if I nap too?”  David asks.

Patrick takes David’s hand and pulls it to his own chest, tucking his arm around David’s.  David can feel Patrick’s heartbeat against his palm.  

“Mmm.”  David presses a kiss to the back of Patrick’s neck.  “Sweet dreams, baby.”  David closes his eyes and breathes in the familiar smell of Patrick’s skin.  There are a lot worse things to do than cuddle his boyfriend through a difficult morning.  David can handle this.  He’s starting to think there’s quite a lot he can handle, when it comes to Patrick.

He knows Patrick was up late last night, going down rabbit holes on the web.  At some point David had woken up and peered at the screen of Patrick’s laptop, so he knows he was reading about depression.  He hopes it helped.  The internet can be a scary place; he’d probably be better off talking to someone.  David would talk to him about it, if he let him, but ever since their first few conversations Patrick hasn’t wanted to discuss it.  

David has almost fallen asleep when Patrick turns over and squints his eyes open.  

“You don’t have to stay here with me,” he says, blinking at David.

The sentence seems to carry more weight than he intended, and David shakes his head and puts his arm around Patrick, pulling him close.  “I’m not going anywhere.”  David shifts on to his back, and Patrick tucks himself against David’s chest.

“You have work.”  It’s a half-hearted protest at best, mumbled against David’s sweater.

“I already told Rory to move my meetings to the afternoon.  I’m fine.”  David presses a kiss to Patrick’s head. “I’m exactly where I want to be.  It’s a perfect day for sleeping in.”

Patrick is quiet, while David rubs his back and shuffles closer until they are entwined just right, legs and knees and arms all pressed together.  

After a few minutes David feels Patrick’s breath slow, and his hold on David relaxes.  He’s about to drift off himself, when Patrick jerks himself awake again.

“You okay, honey?”

Patrick nods, his chin digging into David.  “Yeah.  Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.  It’s all right.”  David strokes Patrick’s shoulder and back, making lazy circles, hoping it will help.  

“Thank you,” Patrick whispers, his hand flat against David’s stomach.  It’s the last thing David hears before he falls asleep.

When David wakes up, Patrick is gone, but the shower is running so there’s not much of a question as to where he went.  David drags himself upright and checks his phone.  Rory has indeed moved his meetings, one to this afternoon, one to tomorrow, and one he had taken care of all by himself.  Maybe there won’t be coal in his Christmas stocking after all.

David is in the kitchen sniffing various take-out containers to figure out if he can stand eating any of them for lunch, when Patrick shows up.  He’s wide awake and smells delightfully like David’s favorite body wash, so naturally David has to kiss him before anything else.  When they separate, Patrick is smiling sweetly at him, and David feels his whole body light up.  If there’s something better than Patrick’s fond attention, he has yet to discover it.

Patrick insists on making lunch, and they pull together a salad with some bagged lettuce, leftover grilled chicken and an overlooked cucumber.

“We have got to get something better for dinner,” David says, as they lean against the kitchen island and eat their food.  

“There’s an Italian place in a new shopping center that I haven’t tried yet, but it looks good.”  Patrick sends David the link to the restaurant’s menu, and David is checking out their desserts (they have cannoli, which is a definite mark in their favor), when Patrick’s phone chirps several times in a row.

“David?”

“Hm?”

“Why does Alexis want my measurements?”

David freezes, his good mood draining out of him.  “What?”

“Alexis wants to know my-”

David yanks the phone out of his hand.  “Let me see.”  He scans the messages.  The party isn’t directly mentioned, but there’s no getting out of it now.  He’s going to kill Alexis for pulling this shit and going around him.  “I can explain.”

“Okay, go ahead.”  Patrick takes a bite of his salad, then looks up at David.  “What’s going on?”

Time to bite the bullet.  “This Saturday night is the RMG holiday party.”

“Okay…”

“And my parents want me to come.”

Patrick looks… disappointed.  “Oh.”

David realizes his mistake instantly.  “Us – they want <i>us</i> to come.  But – you don’t have to.  I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

David stands up from his chair and paces, to the patio and back, wishing it wasn’t raining so he could go outside and pace there too.  

“David?  Is that a hard question?”  Patrick is standing now, too, and there’s a tinge of anger in his tone.

“I don’t want you to feel like you <i>have</i> to come,” David says, coming towards him and gripping his arms. “I don’t want to rock the boat.  We’re good here.  There’s no reason to risk it.”

“To risk what?”  Now Patrick just sounds confused.

“Anything.”  David tilts his head back.  “I know I sound crazy, that’s why I didn’t bring this up.”

Patrick pulls them towards the couch, and they sit down.  David leans his head in his hands.

“David. Tell me what’s really going on.”

He sighs.  “What if you don’t like it?”

“The party?”

David looks up and rolls his eyes at him.  “No, not the party.  What if you’re mad, about why I didn’t say anything?”

“I don’t mean to dismiss your concerns, David, but you might be overthinking things.  Why don’t you just spit it out?”

“Fine.”  David straightens his shoulders and looks at Patrick.  “I like being here with you. I like the <i>us</i> we have.  I don’t want anything to mess that up.”

“Agreed, one hundred percent,” Patrick says, winding his fingers through David’s.  “Go on.”

“I don’t want to go to New York without you, and have people… talk at me about it.  Put thoughts in my head, about how it might not work.  And I don’t want you to come and have the same thing happen.”

“So, you’re afraid that if we leave here, and see anyone else, they’ll be able to convince us that what we have isn’t going to last?”

“All right, all right, I know that’s silly.”  David squeezes his eyes shut.  “Also I don’t want you to get upset.”

There’s a pause, and when Patrick speaks, his voice is quiet, his slightly teasing tone gone.  “Upset about what?”

David shrugs, his eyes still closed. “Things that might… upset you.  Strangers.  The city.  A crowded club.”  He can feel Patrick go still next to him.  “I don’t know if that’s why we keep to ourselves down here.  But if that was any part of it, if this is your safe space, I don’t want you to feel you have to leave.  Not for something as dumb as a holiday party.”

Patrick breathes in and out, audibly, and David opens his eyes.  Patrick’s looking down at where their hands are entwined, studying them, his lips pressed tightly together.  David reaches over and cups Patrick’s head with his hand, bringing them closer.  “I hope that was okay to say,” David says softly.

Patrick nods.  “Yeah,” he says, “yeah.  That was okay to say.”  He looks at David, and his eyes are wet.  “You’re right.  This is my safe space, here, with you.”

David feels his chest clench, and he nods back.  “I’m glad.”

Patrick inhales deeply, and blinks away a tear.  “But I don’t think your family’s holiday party is necessarily a dumb reason to leave.”

“No?”

“No.  I think it might be good for us.  Especially since Alexis is apparently finding me a really nice suit.”

*****

It sounds easy – Patrick says sure, they should go to the party.  But there are a dozen decisions to make after that, and by the next night, David is really wishing he had found a way to just say no.

When to leave is easy enough – there’s no way he wants Patrick to have to take Friday off, not with a brand-new job, so they’ll fly into LaGuardia on Saturday morning.  But will they come back on Sunday – Christmas Eve?  Or spend that night with his family and come back on Christmas itself?  Spend yet another night to avoid traveling on Christmas?  And how is it fair to Patrick’s parents, to make this special trip to be with David’s family, and not see them?

Add to that figuring out where they’ll stay (one night on Alexis’ pull-out couch is barely tolerable, but more than that, forget it), what social events David will agree to while there, and who is going to pay for the whole charade, and it’s a giant mess.

“Ok, I’ve had enough,” David says, when their dinner of take-out sushi has been completely dominated by debating the pros and cons of the various options, each of them trying to anticipate what the other wants and as far as David can tell, defeating the point of the entire conversation.  “Let’s play rock, paper, scissors.”

“What?”

“I can’t stand it anymore.  Whoever wins, chooses.”

“That won’t solve it.”  

Patrick’s right, it still doesn’t mean whoever wins will actually pick something reasonable, and not just what they think the other person wants.

“But you might be on to something,” Patrick continues, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Please, tell me, and put an end to this so we can get on with our lives.”  And pack, David thinks.

“On the count of three, put out a finger for how many nights you want to stay in New York.  No more debate, no more thinking about it.”

“Each of us puts out a finger for how long <i>who</i> wants to stay?”

Patrick glares at him.  “Don’t make this harder than it is.  The conversation is over.  Ready?”

David nods.  Whatever happens, at least then they can move on.

“One, two-”

“Wait, do we put out a finger on three, or are you going to say one, two, three, go?”

Patrick smacks David on the arm.

“Ow!”

“I’m going to say one, two, three, go.” There’s a twinkle in Patrick’s eyes when they meet David’s.  “Ready?  One, two, three, go!”

Both of them put out one finger.

“Oh, thank god,” David says, sagging forward, his forehead against Patrick’s.

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Can we please not talk about this anymore?”  David didn’t want to stay in New York any longer than necessary; he didn’t want to have any other days to worry about what his parents might want him to do versus what Patrick might want to do, he didn’t want to have to manage any of it any longer than he had to.  But he also didn’t want Patrick to feel like he was cutting David’s time with his family short, or that David was giving something up for him.  Because right now, all David really wants is whatever is best for Patrick, and what’s best for him and Patrick together.  And his gut is telling him that getting back to Florida on Sunday, and then spending Monday (even though it’s Christmas?  Because it’s Christmas?) together, alone, with no work and no family for a whole day, is what’s best for them both.

Patrick laughs.  “Sure.  And you know what’s great about our decision?”

“That it’s done?”

“Yes, and now we can just stay at Alexis’ place, since it will only be one night.”

“Thank god for small mercies.”

*****

They wake up at a painfully early hour Saturday morning and drag themselves to the airport, which is packed with Christmas travelers.  But everything goes smoothly, and by noon they’re in an Uber on their way to Alexis’ place.  When she opens the door she ignores David completely and envelops Patrick in a hug that goes on for so long, Patrick signals to David for help.  It’s unbearably sweet, and David is suddenly, overwhelmingly happy that they decided to come to New York.

Alexis gives Patrick a tour of her tiny apartment, and Patrick appropriately oohs and ahs over everything.  Alexis is especially proud of the little corner of her room that serves as an office, with its mood boards and tastefully decorated shelves.

“So this is where the magic happens,” Patrick says, and Alexis beams.

“Yes, Patrick!”  She sits down at her computer and pulls up a file to show him her latest spreadsheet achievement, when David sees a glossy looking envelope on her counter with Patrick’s name on it.

“What’s this?”  He picks it up, admiring the heavy paper, when he recognizes the ice blue logo.  “Alexis, why do you have-”

She plucks it out of his hand and does a little shimmy.  “It’s not for you, David.”  With a flourish, she hands it to Patrick.

Patrick exchanges a “what can you do” glance with David, and opens the envelope.  David crowds close, too excited to wait.

“It’s from your mom,” Patrick says.  

“It’s a lil’ couples massage,” Alexis says, practically bouncing on her toes.  “She specifically said to tell you that <i>there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself</i>.”  Alexis points with an impeccably polished nail to where it says that on the card, and David rolls his eyes, remembering the day Patrick reassured his mother that she wasn’t responsible for the dead guy in Room 4.  He <i>knew</i> she was being purposefully obtuse about the scone.

“Do we even have time for this massage thing?” Patrick asks.  “It’s for today.”

“Um, yes, we have time.  We absolutely have time.  This is one of the most exclusive spas in the city.”  David grabs Patrick’s coat off the couch; his own leather jacket is barely warm enough for New York in December, but at least it’s appropriate, unlike Patrick’s down monstrosity.  “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m coming with you,” Alexis says, linking her arm through Patrick’s.  “Maybe we can make it a trio.”

“Not unless you are ready to walk out this door in thirty seconds.”

“Ugh, David.”  

Luckily Alexis takes only fifteen minutes to get ready to go, and they’re on their way.  Despite the fact that David has never heard of a trio massage (and he shudders to think of how expensive that might be), he doesn’t dissuade her from coming along.  He’s got barely twenty-four hours to hang out with her, and he’s going to soak up every one of them.

In the end Alexis drops them at the spa to do some shopping of her own, while David and Patrick are pampered to within an inch of their lives.  During the initial consultation with the massage therapists, they are fed chocolate covered strawberries and cucumber water.  They agree on the massage oils, and the music, and then are led to a dim room which smells delightfully like eucalyptus and jasmine.  David tries to keep his eyes open so he can watch Patrick melting into jelly on the table next to him.  It’s without a doubt the best massage David has ever experienced.  He can practically feel the oxytocin swirling in the air between them.

Afterwards they are helped into fluffy white robes, and then collapse together onto a wide, padded lounger.  “That was really nice,” Patrick says.

“Nice?”  David asks.  “Just nice?”

Patrick snuggles into David’s shoulder.  “Mmm.  I can’t think of words right now.  Full review later.”

David noses at Patrick’s hair.  “Okay.”

“Love you,” Patrick says muzzily.

“Love you too.”

They dose together, boneless and content, until a soft chime wakes them.  Reluctantly they find their way to the changing rooms, and then out into reality.

Alexis is buzzing with excitement and wants to immediately go back to her place to get dressed, but David insists that they find something to eat first.  It’s still hours away from when dinner will be served tonight, and as lovely as the chocolate covered strawberries were, he needs some real food or things will get ugly.

Luckily, they spot one of his favorite places to get a quick snack (it’s a chain with pretentious communal tables, but David has spent many hours here and he loves it anyway), so they load up on quiche and avocado tartine and mochas before returning to Alexis’ apartment.

When they arrive it’s fashion show time.  Because Alexis loves dressing up, she had agreed ages ago to let David keep some clothes in her closet – just a few choice outfits for when they were in New York together and felt like going out.  But David can feel Patrick hovering next to him, all the afternoon’s relaxing threatening to disappear, so he suggests they look at his options first.

Alexis beams and starts chattering about what she got for Patrick, and David leans in close, a hand on the small of his back.  “You don’t have to wear any of that if you don’t want to,” he whispers, as Alexis pulls out a silver shirt with a shiny gleam.  “You can wear what you brought.  Or what you’ve got on right now.”  David gives Patrick’s jeans-clad ass a little slap, and Patrick snorts out a laugh.

“What?  You don’t like this one?”  Alexis asks.  “You’re right, it’s too flashy.  How about this?”  She reaches airily into the closet, and David can tell by the way she’s standing, like she’s posing for a photo, that she’s presenting her top choice.  It’s a dark navy blue suit (Tom Ford? How did she get a Tom Ford suit for Patrick?) with a deep, rich purple shirt.  She holds it up to Patrick, and he nods carefully, then looks over to David for approval.

David pets it, and looks inside for a label.  The suit isn’t a Tom Ford, although it looks damn good.  And now that he examines the jacket more closely, he can see it has its own distinctive style.  “Where did you get this, Alexis?  And who made it?”

Alexis preens.  “One of my friends has a connection with an up and coming designer,” she says.  “She’ll be at the party tonight.  I’ll introduce you.”

“And we don’t have to pay for this, right?”  David asks.  The cut is classically elegant, and he thinks it’s going to fit Patrick like a glove.

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’.  “She’s just happy to have someone wearing her clothes.”

“I’ll try it on,” Patrick says, and Alexis shows him to the bathroom.  When he comes back out, David can’t help but go to him, running his hands up and down his shoulders and arms.

“You like it?”  Patrick asks.  

“I like <i>you,</i>” David says, and presses a quick kiss to Patrick’s lips.  “And you look amazing in this suit.”  He unbuttons another button of the shirt, liking the way the open neck shows just a little bit of Patrick’s skin.

“It doesn’t need a tie?” Patrick asks.

“No, you’re perfect just like this.”

“Yay!”  Alexis cheers, coming over and booping Patrick on the nose.  “I knew this was going to work!”

David decides on his black and white Armani short jacket, with a sharp collared white shirt underneath and slim black ankle-length trousers.  He likes the contrast with Patrick’s rich colored but still traditionally styled suit.  Alexis twirls for them in her dress, a silky blush colored gown that makes her look like a 50’s movie star. They’re finally ready, and they pile into a waiting Uber and head uptown.

The back room of the club is already crowded, and David can’t help but feel a little swell of pride at how RMG has grown.  Stevie waves to them from where she’s standing across the room with Ruth, but David doesn’t have a chance to get over to her before his parents descend.  There are hugs all around, and when the wave of familial affection finally recedes, David can’t help but notice that Patrick looks a little overwhelmed.

He weaves his arm through Patrick’s and leads them away, finding an alcove where they can catch their breath.

“You okay?” he asks, a palm to Patrick’s chest.  He can feel his heart beating a mile a minute.  This is exactly what he was worried about, this is too much for Patrick, too many people.  “We can leave anytime, we made our appearance, I’ll call a car-”

“No, David, I’m fine,” Patrick says, taking David’s hand.  “Really.”

David searches his face.  “Are you sure?  Because you seem a little…”

“David,” Patrick says firmly.  “I’m fine.”  He slides his hands around David’s waist, under his jacket, and David can feel the warmth of his fingers pressing against him through the thin fabric of his shirt.  David slings his arms around Patrick and leans his head against his shoulders.  “Your parents are very enthusiastic, but it’s great to see them,” Patrick says.  “Everything’s okay.”

“You’re fine,” David repeats, willing himself to believe it.  Patrick really is.  Nothing’s wrong.  

“Could it be, maybe, you’re a little nervous too?”  Patrick says, his voice gentle.

David wants to deny it, but realizes instantly that Patrick is right.  He feels a little fizzy, a little unsteady.  “Maybe.”  Patrick isn’t the only one who has been enjoying their little Florida bubble.  

Patrick hugs him closer, and then steps back, inclining his head out towards the party.  “Come on.  Alexis said there’d be crab puffs.”

“Crab cakes,” David corrects.  

“Crab cakes, then.  And baked brie.”

“I still don’t see any coherency in the hors d’oeuvre selection,” David gripes, back on solid ground.

“But you’re going to eat all of them anyway.”

“I am definitely going to eat all of them anyway.”

They’re grazing by the cheese platters when David sees a few familiar faces coming towards him.  This is going to be fun, he thinks, a smile tugging at his cheek.

“David, hi!”  

“Vanessa, you look radiant.”  She does, her dark skin set off by a metallic pantsuit and glimmers of gold around her eyes.  

“Most beautiful woman in the room,” rumbles her companion, a huge man with a barrel chest who towers over both David and Patrick.

“Patrick, meet Vanessa, my favorite gallery employee from back in the day, and her husband Rory, my current favorite employee.”

Rory laughs, his deep voice probably setting off small earthquakes somewhere.  “I’m not your employee, Rose.”  He holds out his hand to Patrick.  “Nice to meet you.”

Patrick turns to David, and the reveal was definitely worth it.  “This is your assistant Rory?  The one you bother all day long about your schedule?  The one you sent to pick out your clothes?”

“Mmm-hmm.”  David <i>knows</i> Patrick thought “Rory” was some college kid, he just knows it.  Instead he’s a thirty-five year old sculptor who wanted a day job for a steady paycheck.

“What, you don’t think I can be trusted with David’s clothes?”  Rory asks.  “I admit, I was surprised, too.  But I guess he had a good reason to ask me to go through all of his drawers.”

“Drawers?  My knits aren’t in drawers, where did you-” David sees the look on Vanessa’s face, and abruptly changes course.  “You made Vanessa do it, didn’t you.”

Vanessa laughs, and tucks her arm through her husband’s.  “I’m sorry, David, but come on – you send Rory an emergency text telling him to Fed Ex you extremely specific selections from your warm weather clothing, and you think I’m not going to get involved?  I’ve known you for years and you never let me into your closet before. It was an experience I was not going to pass up.”

Patrick is giggling into his glass of seltzer, and David has had quite enough of this.  “Fine.  Tease me if you want.  But I think we can all agree it was a successful mission.”  He hooks his chin over Patrick’s shoulder, his arm snug around him.

“From the way you two look together, I’d say so,” Vanessa says.

“Here here.” Rory raises his glass, and they all follow suit.  “To David and Patrick.”

“Oh my god, enough with that,” David says, and buries his burning face in Patrick’s neck.

Rory and Vanessa excuse themselves, but David has hardly had a chance to visit the buffet again when Patrick tugs at his arm.

“What?” he says, looking up from a particularly delicious egg roll.

“Come dance with me,” Patrick says, his eyes wide and warm, and David drops his plate on a table and follows him.  

“What brought this on?” David asks, as he loops his arms over Patrick’s shoulders and starts to move in time to the music.

Patrick shrugs a little and pulls David closer.  “My parents always dance to this song,” he says into David’s ear.

David feels his chest expand, and he presses a kiss to Patrick’s cheek.  “It’s a nice song.”  

<i>Moon river, wider than a mile</i> <i>I'm crossing you in style some day</i>

<i>Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker</i> <i>Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way</i>

David listens for a moment to the bittersweet melody.  “Is it a love song?” he finally asks.  It’s not as if he’s ever given <i>Moon River</i> much thought before.  

Patrick slides his fingers up the back of David’s neck, into his hair.  “I think it’s love for the journey, rather than a destination.”

<i>Two drifters, off to see the world</i>

<i>There’s such a lot of world to see</i>

David glances around, and now his parents are dancing too, along with a handful of other couples.  He nuzzles against Patrick.  “Not to quote my sister or anything, but… I like this journey for us.”

Patrick turns his head and finds David’s lips, kissing him sweetly.  “Me too, David.  Me too.”

[monstersandmaw]

Evening to ya, Ghosti✌️😆

Sorry if the wording sounds silly, but I wanted to ask if you know any rituals I could do for the New Years. 🤣 Christmas hasn't been exactly an easy time for me for various reasons and I tend to get the holiday blues pretty bad, and for a long old while New Years has felt very similar. I'm doing my best to feel hopeful and to have some faith for the new year, but it's turning out to be trickier than I anticipated. So I wanted to ask for suggestions as to do anything that could help feeling more hopeful, I dunno. :3

Though feel free to ignore this if you don't have the energy for it. I hope you had delightful holiday however you celebrated!!! 😊💖💖💖💖

Hey anon! (it’s now afternoon here in the UK, and it was morning when I started this! I got a bit carried away). I don’t know that I’m necessarily the right person to ask about this, but here are some ideas of things I’ve found helpful/centring/calming anyway which you could draw from. Other folks, please feel free to chime in with your favourite ways to put the old year to bed and welcome in the new one!

(first of all, I’m sending you lots of virtual ghostli hugs to help drive away those holiday blues. That sucks, and I’m so sorry it’s been so tough for you.)

Here’s a rundown of what’s below, and I’ll put in a ‘keep reading’ so that it’s not an incredibly long post! Some of it is more on the ‘spiritutal’ side of things, and others are just mundane and practical things.

Congratulate yourself on making it through the clusterfuck that was 2020

Make some tea and meditate on what’s been and what you wish for

Go outside, be still, and breathe deeply

Let go of negative events and thoughts by writing them down, then safely burning the paper

Disconnect from social media for a few days (or however long you’re comfortable with)

Start a bullet journal

Write lists of goals for 2021 and then refine/distill them down to 3 manageable objectives

Commit 100% to 6 months of positive change

Pick three dates/months in the year when good things will happen, and make them happen (including growing veg/fruit)

Light a candle on the full moon or New Year

Ok, so, first of all, you’ve made it through this year!! That’s no small accomplishment, given the sheer volume of absolute shite that has been flung at us from all angles, no matter where in the world you live. Celebrate that. Seriously, I’m not being flippant. Take a moment of stillness wherever you are, be ‘present’, and just think about the fact that you’re here, right now, reading this post. Not everyone is here any more for one reason or another, but you did it. Congratulate yourself and celebrate that. Treat yourself to a slice of cake (or something you really enjoy) specifically to celebrate making it through 2020.

Make a cup of tea (try a new blend or recipe perhaps, or stick with your absolute favourite), or make a comforting drink of your choice. As you pour the water into the cup, breathe in the steam and enjoy the scent of it. Try and imbue all the positive things - memories, achievements, moments etc. - that you encountered this year into the tea/drink, and think about them growing in strength as the tea steeps, and envisage them continuing on to next year too. When you drink the tea, you take the positive thoughts into yourself and they become a part of you. You could try it in the morning with a caffeinated drink (if you enjoy those) and let it fuel you for the day, or you could try a herbal tea at night to let the good vibes steep overnight while you rest. Make it part of your daily routine; a private meditation.

Go outside and find a quiet spot somewhere and either stand or sit and just soak up the atmosphere. If there’s a tree nearby, think about the way its roots are planted in the earth, its trunk stands tall, and its branches reach towards the sky. Feel that space inside you. Breathe deeply in and out, visualising your lungs filling to the deepest parts, starting at the bottom. Count to four for each inhale, and six out (or whatever you’re comfortable with, so long as the exhale is longer than the inhale). This will help to still you and calm you.

If you have something fireproof (can just be a ceramic bowl), take a piece of paper and make a moment to write down all the negative things about this year, using a pen that you’re comfortable with. If you’re not one for words, draw pictures. You can make it really beautiful or just scribble it all down - it doesn’t matter. Get that shit out. Look at it for a while and read it through, mentally letting go of each thing as your eyes pass over it, then light one corner (carefully!!!) and let it burn somewhere with good ventilation (a cooker hood is good for that, but outside is better). Visualise all that negativity being swallowed by the universe and let it go. My favourite line from the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf comes at Beowulf’s funeral when a Geat woman is singing her grief at his passing to the sky, and there’s the simple sentence: “Heaven swallowed the smoke.” How beautiful is that? The sky swallowed up her grief as she poured it out to the universe. The negativity might take some time to vanish from your life (it’s not going to disappear at the same time as the paper, sadly!), but watching it go can be the first stage of letting things go. I did this last year, and I’m only just letting go of the last things on that list, but it was a start, and it made me feel more at peace. 

Disconnect from social media. I know that with so much more happening online this year out of necessity, we’ve become even more dependant on our phones and computers, and it’s wonderful that we have this chance to connect with people when we can’t see them face to face, but social media can also act as a crucible for negative feelings. People usually post the best or the worst aspects of what’s going on for them or what they care about, so it leads to a skewed view of both the world and of what’s going on amongst our connections. It’s easy to start feeling insignificant next to someone else because of their achievements or their looks etc. and it’s also easy to start to get a bleak outlook when the news is full of terrible stories and people are reacting to it in a volatile and often knee-jerk way. Take some time off - uninstall the apps, or put the limiter setting on, or just step back - for a day, two days, a week, whatever you’re comfortable with. It doesn’t have to be forever. If you use those platforms to talk to people, tell them what you’re doing, and give them another way to reach you if they need. No need to isolate yourself completely!! Think about how you felt before you started it (write it down?) and do the same afterwards, and compare. If it didn’t work for you, then that’s fine too. 

Start a bullet journal! Now is the perfect time to start bullet journaling. I first started this year when I felt like time was slipping through my fingers and my life was out of my control, and it’s really helped me to get a sense of order back. It’s not the magic cure-all for procrastinators and time wasters, trust me, but it can help to organise your mind as well as your day, and keep track of your habits etc. It can be literally whatever tool you need it to be. There’s a trend on social media - particularly Instagram and YouTube - that shows off these gorgeous journals that are basically works of art in themselves, and while it’s absolutely fine to aspire to that if you want to, the essential point of the bullet journal is to be a tool. You can buy print-outs from Etsy if you don’t fancy doing your own spreads. But don’t get completely hung up on pretty spreads and layouts because you won’t use it fully then. If you’ve got ‘new book fear’, like I did, make your own! I literally started my journaling by folding a few pieces of paper over, slapping a few stickers on them to cheer them up, and writing some lists. I didn’t buy a ‘proper’ journal until July 2020 when I’d got the hang of what I wanted out of the tool, and how to use it. I adapted one or two things, and I’ll be changing one or two things for next year, but it was a good way to start.

Here are two ‘minimalist’ journals and styles that I found helpful when setting mine up. They focus on usefulness and practicality, rather than overwhelming, artistic spreads and cutesy designs. I’m about to do a ‘plan with me 2021’ journal video for YouTube, so I’ll put that up when I’ve finished it, in case that’s helpful. 

Elsa Rhae

Pick Up Limes

Write down the things you want to achieve for 2021. These can be more abstract concepts like ‘more organised’ ‘healthier’ ‘start a business’ etc. Then, when you’ve got as many things as you’d ideally love to achieve/accomplish/manifest (don’t hold back at that stage), take another piece of paper and choose a maximum of six from that first lot to focus on, and below that, choose just three absolutely essential things to focus on. Make those your things for 2021.  

Now, this one is a personal one for me, so it may not be applicable at all to you/others, but I’ll share it anyway. For me, I need to make some significant lifestyle changes for my physical and mental health. So, I’ve decided to commit to 6 months of really hard work to bring about those changes. Time is going to pass anyway, from January to June. Six months will come and go anyway. Where will I be in six months’ time? I could be physically and mentally exactly where I am today. That thought is super depressing to me. Or, I could devote 200% focus, commitment, and energy, and bring about those changes, and be the ‘me’ I want to be in six months’ time.

It’s like the adage of ‘given a week to write a speech, it will take you a week, but given a day to write the same speech, it will take you a day’ - your brain will tell you it takes the amount of time that you have at hand to accomplish the task, and that’s simply how long it then takes. Use those three things from the 2021 list above, and commit to making those three things happen.

As an aside, tell someone (whose opinions you value) that you’re going to do this. By telling someone, you’re helping to cement the idea in reality, and you’ve got a support to turn to if it gets rocky, someone to cheer you on, and someone to celebrate with who knew what a struggle and commitment this was to you in the first place. 

Pick three points in the year where good things will happen. Book yourself something nice, save up for something and have it delivered then, or tell yourself that you will have achieved [x] by May, or September, or December. For me, it’s a working draft of my novel, and certain health goals by October, but make it yours, and keep those points fixed in your mind. It will help 2021 not to be one amorphous mass of time, and will give it structure and form. You could also choose to grow something in a pot - lots of vegetables can be grown cheaply from seed in a pot on a windowsill, and you’ll have something tasty to eat at the end of it!!

Here’s a slightly gentler idea to finish with: 

On New Year’s Eve take a moment to yourself, go outside if it’s not raining or too cold etc., light a candle, hold it (safely) in your hands, and be still. It doesn’t have to be exactly at midnight, but it will help your focus if it’s dark. Otherwise, go to a quiet part of the house and turn the lights down so that the candle flame is your focus. As before, think about what you’ve achieved this year, and be honest, not just negative! It’s very easy to say ‘oh I didn’t achieve anything, it all sucks, it was all awful’, when there will be tiny victories tucked away in there, I promise you, even if it was the toughest year of your life. Then think about where you are at the moment, mentally and physically. Acknowledge that state of being. Look at it with honest eyes. This moment is not for anyone else, so you don’t need to colour it one way or another. It’s for you. If you’re finding it hard not to be negative, be neutral. Let those thoughts come and go, and then turn your mind to the future. Mentally feed those negative thoughts into the flame in front of you, one at a time. Say it out loud if that helps, but do what makes you comfortable. Let the light from the flame fill your mind and your heart, and think about your intentions for the new year.  

Tonight (30th Dec) is a full moon, so if that is significant for you, you may wish to do this tonight instead of tomorrow. 

I hope that some of that gives you some inspiration, and I hope that people will chime in with their own new year’s rituals and habits. Be honest with yourself but not harsh, and be positive but not unrealistic. This year has been one hell of a ride, and we’re not done yet... Here in the UK, we’ve got the highest numbers of Covid that we’ve ever had, we’re in the harshest lock down (Tier 4) and can’t visit anyone, and we’re also going through Brexit (which is proving a nightmare for everyone, especially small businesses...).

Control the things you can control, and learn and employ systems to ride out the things that are beyond your influence. And take heart - you have a family of folks on here, all across the world!

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. (There eventually be smut, but this part is mostly fluff.)

You had been seeing each other for about three weeks. You still couldn’t believe you had agreed to meeting someone on a blind date. But you were so sick of the online dating scene, so when your good friend Niall from work told you he had a single friend, you jumped at the chance.

He didn’t have any social media, there was an Instagram with his name, but no photos of him. Only pictures he had taken. He was a photographer, and a good one at that. Niall had roomed with him during their undergrad, and stayed mates after graduation. You had wondered why he never mentioned this single friend before.

“Well, after your last break up, I honestly didn’t think you’d ever want to look at another man.” He shyly told you in the break room one day.

It was true, your last break up was a really bad one. It was barely even a break up though because you two were barely dating. You had sex with him rather quick, and after him blowing you off two separate times, he ended things over a text. This sent you into a rather depressive episode. You vowed to not jump into bed with a guy quite so quickly ever again, even if you really wanted to.

You begged Niall to see a picture of him, but he said no. You tried to snoop around Niall’s Facebook page, but you couldn’t be certain of who he was. All you knew was his name: Harry Styles. Niall wouldn’t even give you his number to arrange the date.

“I’ll set everything up for the both of ya, and if it goes well then you can both take it from there.”

You were happy to have a best friend at work. Your days would be boring without each other.  You and Niall were two of the younger people in your office, and you both felt it was necessary to stick together.

“What are you doing this Saturday night?” He asked you Wednesday morning, handing you a coffee. You each took turns buying coffee for the other. Today was his turn.

“Um, I think I was just going to binge watch something on Netflix. Why?”

“Harry was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner.”

“Oh he was?” You raise an eyebrow, and take a sip of your coffee.

“Yes, well I nudged him a little, but I’ve told him a lot about you and he’s very interested.” You blush at the thought.

“Well, I’m definitely free for dinner. Where was he thinking?”

“You’re both vegetarian, well, he’s a vegan actually, but he knows of this really great tapas place that has a lot of meatless options.”

“Wow, vegan. I like tapas so that works for me. What time?”

“Seven. I’ll text you the name of the place so you can look it up.”

“Thanks, this should be fun.” You smile at your friend.

Friday night after work, you decide to do a little shopping. After researching the restaurant, you knew you needed something a little nicer to wear, and you didn’t feel like anything in your closet would make a lasting impression. You drove out to the mall, cursing at yourself for not just going Saturday morning. The parking was crazy, and it felt like everyone and their brother was there. You stumbled into the Macy’s and looked around at their cocktail dresses. You wanted something to accentuate your best features, but also wanted to leave a little mystery. You settle on a basic, black dress. It was form fitting, and hugged just above the midpoint of your thighs. It had short, capped sleeves, and the neckline came just high enough to cover most of your cleavage. It was perfect. You knew you had shoes to match at home, so you didn’t waste any more time at the mall.

Saturday morning, you scrolled through countless hair and makeup tutorials on YouTube trying to find the one that suited you most. After getting frustrated, you settled on your go to hair style. You curled your hair, and waited a couple of hours to brush it out. You then had perfect waves, which almost looked natural. About an hour before you needed to leave, you put your makeup on. You decided to go with a subtle purple to make your green eyes pop, and swept some liquid eye liner over it. You contoured your face (something you had gotten quite good at), and then put your new black dress on. Happy with your appearance, you slide on some purple some nude, strappy heels, and headed out.

As you got closer to the restaurant, you grew nervous. You texted Niall to tell him it was silly you’d be walking into a place, looking for someone you had never met. He asked you what you were wearing, and he would tell Harry to look for you. But what if you got there first? What if he never shows up? How dare he! You thought. You shook the thought from your head and drove up to the restaurant. You circled around back where the parking was. You smoothed out your dress, praying it hadn’t wrinkled, before you walked in. Taking a deep breath, you looked around.

The place was even nicer in person. There was a really big bar, and the dining area looked so elegant. He must do well for himself if he likes this place. Before the hostess could greet you, you saw a somewhat familiar face walking towards you, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

“(y/n)?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, are you Harry?”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you.” He puts an awkward hand out to shake, and you take it just as awkwardly. “That was weird.” He says in a laugh. “I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to hug you.” You runs a hand through his hair.

“No, no, it was very polite. It’s nice to meet you too. You found me pretty quick.” You smiled at him.

“Niall had just texted me explaining what you were wearing. I happened to look up, and there you were.” He smiled back. That smile…you just remembered him.

“Did you happen to go to Niall’s holiday party last year?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Um, yeah. Were you there too?”

“Yes, I was gonna say you looked familiar. I don’t think we properly spoke to each other there.”

“Definitely not, I would’ve remembered you if we had.” You feel your cheeks flush and let out a simple laugh. “Well, our table should be ready. Let me check with the hostess.”

Harry walks over to the woman, who hands two menus to one of the waiters. He says you can follow him. Harry gestures to let you go first. You wondered if it was so he could check you out, but he didn’t seem like the type. He looked so handsome. His hair was short, but not too short that you couldn’t make out his curls. His eyes were green like yours, and he was wearing a pair of blue dress pants with a white button up shirt.

As you both sat down at your table for two, you noticed his nails were painted. How you didn’t notice earlier when you shook his hand, you weren’t sure. Every other nail was this deep orange, and the other a navy blue. You smiled at it. At least he was the type of guy to take care of his nails. He had a few rings on as well, and you could see a couple of tattoos. You assumed he had a sleeve since you couldn’t see the rest of the anchor on his wrist. After a moment you heard him couch, and you realized you were staring. Your eyes darted up to his.

“Sorry, I was just admiring your, um, rings.” Pointing to the H and S.

“Oh, thanks, they were a gift from my mum a few years back.” His accent was already so intoxicating. Now you figured out how him and Niall got roomed together, they both must’ve been international students. “You were looking at my nails too?” Your face feels hot, and you feel yourself sweat a little. “It’s alright, a lot of people stare.”

“No, it wasn’t staring, necessarily. I was admiring it as well. I think more men should get their nails done. It looks nice. I love getting mine done, see?” You put your hand out, and show him your black nails. “I get the shellac so they last longer, totally worth it.” He smiles at you. “How long have you been painting them for?”

“Oh god, years. I mostly started out with black, but then I got bored with it. I felt like I was only doing that color because it ‘masculine’.” He holds up air quotes at the word. “Then I started experimenting with more vibrant colors. I like doing pink and blue a lot, but this also suits me. Then I started getting creative with the placement of the colors.”

“I’ll do an accent nail once in a while myself, but I do like the style of every other color. Maybe I’ll try it some time.”

“I know it doesn’t look super professional, but since I’m not in an office I can kind of do what I want.” He shrugs.

“Right, you’re a photographer?”

“Mhm. Mostly for, like, outdoors type of things. I really like taking pictures at night. But I’ll also do a little freelance work for people who want a photoshoot. I usually clean up good during the wedding season.”

You got so lost in conversation, you nearly forgot you were at a restaurant. A waitress comes over, frantically, and out of breath.

“Hi folks, so sorry for the wait. We got slammed all at once.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” You beamed at her. Remembering your time in the food service industry.

“Can I start you two off with any drinks?” You look at each other, and he gestures for you to go first.

“Um, could I please have a vodka tonic, with titos, and lime?” He gives you a surprised smirk, probably expecting you to have just ordered a glass of wine.

“Sure thing, and for you sir?”

“I’ll have the same as her, please.” The waitress nods, and walks away.

“I take it that’s your drink?”

“Yeah, I’m not really a wine with dinner kind of gal.” The strange thing was, any time you had wine with dinner, you always got drunk. Vodka, however, you didn’t feel as much. You felt sager having that. “You like vodka too?”

“Once in a while, it tastes good with whatever you eat.”

“We should look at the menu and figure out what dishes we want so it’s easier for her when she comes back. I feel bad she was so out of breath coming over here.”

“Good idea.”

The waitress comes back with your drinks, and takes your order. You both had decides on some flat bread with arugula and goat cheese. It wasn’t vegan, but Harry didn’t mind. You also ordered some roasted cauliflower that came with a dipping sauce.

“How long have you been a vegetarian for?” He asks you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Um, a little over a year. I wouldn’t necessarily call it being a vegetarian, I just don’t eat meat.”

“What made you want to stop eating meat?”

“Well, it just didn’t make me feel good. My doctor also told me to straight up lay off the red meat. I got sick of eating chicken and fish, and if I’m being honest the thought of eating it just started to make me not feel good. I do still enjoy the smell of a fresh steak on the grill.”

“So you did it out of health instead of ethics?”

“Yup. I don’t have much dairy either. I love cheese so I keep that in my diet, but I have up milk a long time ago. I stick to coconut milk mostly if I need my fix. What made you go vegan?”

“Health benefits, I suppose. I was also taking a lot of pictures of animals for this one magazine and it just made it hard to even eat fish. I think it’s been five years now.”

“Good for you, that’s incredible.” You take sip of your drink, and notice the bar tender was a little heavy handed with the vodka.

“So, you met Niall at work right?”

“Mhm.”

“I know what he does there, but what do you do?”

“I’m on our marketing team, with him. He and I tag team a lot of projects. I work more with our digital pieces. I photopshop images, and edit video.”

“What made you go into that?”

“Well, when I was younger I wanted to be a film maker, but I fell in love with marketing, and put the film making on the back burner. I still write now and then for fun.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say they loved marketing before.”

“Well, it’s not so much the marketing, it’s more how creating the right content can change someone’s point of view.”

A food runner brings your food to your table. You both put your napkins in your laps, and dig in.

“Mmm.” You lick your lips after taking a bit of the flatbread. “This is delicious. Great choice.”

“Thanks, I like coming here, there are just so many options.” You see him pick off most of the goat cheese, and feel a little guilty.

“We didn’t need to get this type of flatbread. I feel terrible you can’t fully enjoy it.”

“It’s no big deal really, I can eat everything else on it.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

The waitress comes over to check on you.

“Can I get you both another drink?”

“I’ll have another, yeah. (y/n)?”

“Um, sure, that would be great.” You promised yourself you’d nurse the next one.

“Tell me about Niall in college, I’m dying to know what he was like.”

“Oh, he was rambunctious. Lad never had any clothes on, then again, neither did I.” You nearly choke on your drink. “I think that’s why we got on so well, neither of us liked wearing more than our trousers.”

“Were you both international students?”

“Yup, but we didn’t room together until our second year. We had met at one of the international student events, and we clicked. They made us room with other students from the states to get a more well-rounded experience.” He shrugs. “I remember this one time he came with me to get a tattoo, and he nearly pissed himself.” He lets out a laugh.

“Niall doesn’t have any tattoos.” You furrow your eyebrows and smile.

“No, he definitely does not. He was being a good mate and came with me when I got my first really big one. I have a butterfly here.” He puts his palm flat just under his breast plate.

“What made you want to get a butterfly?”

“Don’t know, I just like the way they look. They have an odd beauty to them.” You felt like you could listen to him talk all night. But your trance was broken when your waitress brought the check over. She told you no rush, but you knew how these things went. You knew she probably needed to get the table turned soon.

You both reached for the check, but Harry snatched it away. He gave you a “get real” kind of look, took his wallet out, and set his credit card inside the small plastic flap, leaving the check on the edge of the table.

“At least let me pay the tip.”

“Sorry, can’t letcha do that, love. Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me would it?” Did he just call you love? It was something Niall did too, but not until he really got to know you. Maybe Harry’s alcohol was starting to hit him, the way it was hitting you. Maybe he just felt relaxed around you.

“I thought you were more progressive than that?” You said jokingly.

“Oh, I am. But I also abide by the rules that whoever asked who out should pay.”

“Okay, that’s a pretty respectable rule, I’ll give you that.”

The waitress sweeps by the table to grab the credit card, and is back in minutes. Harry takes out some cash from his wallet, and signs the slip of paper.

“Thank you.” You say to him.

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles back. “Shall we?” He gets up first, and extends a hand to you to help you up. “Did you park out back?”

“Yup.” You really didn’t want the night to end yet. You look at your watch and it’s only almost nine.

“Great, so did I.”

He walks closely next to you on your wat to the parking lot.

“That’s me.” You point to your car. He walks you over to it, and you lean against your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.” You say looking down at your shoes, then back up at him.

“Me too.” He looks away for second, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at you again. “Would it be alright to ask for your number?”

“Sure.” You reach into your purse and grab your cell phone. You hand it to him. “Feel free to just text yourself.” He smiles, and takes your phone, putting his number in.

“So, I take it you’d like to do this again?”

“Definitely.” He hands you back your phone, and put it back in your purse. In a bold move, you lean forward and give him a slight peck on the cheek. “Talk to you soon.”

You both blush, he smiles and lets out a nervous laugh. He opens your car door for you.

“Have a good rest of your evening.” He says to you.

“Same to you.”

You drive off, feeling your heart flutter. It was the perfect date. You were proud of yourself. Normally would have tried to make out with a man that attractive, but you showed wonderful restraint. You couldn’t wait for him to get in touch with you again.  

[neochatarra]

8 Untold Signs Of Narcissist People

Sometimes the signs of narcissism aren't so obvious and narcissists fly under our radar. Not every narcissist may be a puffed-up addict or a Mean Girl like Regina George. If they were, we could see the signs from a mile away and steer clear. No, many narcissists are sensitive, thoughtful, and generous – until the charade wears off, of course.

That's why it's so important to know the subtle signs of narcissism that you simply won't notice until it's too late and they've sucked you into their region.

What's the Difference Between an Overt and Covert Narcissist?

Many people tend to consider narcissists as having extroverted personalities. They're flamboyant and demand to be the middle of attention – how are you able to miss them?

The truth is, introverts also can be narcissists. These are those who fool us into their web of manipulation.

"They're not self-absorbed – they're just sensitive!"

"They're not a nasty friend – they're just misunderstood!"

After forming a relationship with a covert narcissist, you realize that this sensitivity and isolation were, in fact, signs of narcissism. Since the signs weren't so obvious, however, you completely misjudged things.

8 Signs of Narcissism You Can't-Miss

Since the covert narcissist is best at hiding their abusive behavior, it's important to know the subtle cues that give them away.

1. They'll Never Utter the Phrase "I Don't Know"

I once knew a narcissist who was so averse to the present phrase that he would rather give someone dangerously incorrect answers than admit to not knowing something. He was confident in his woefully wrong answers, too.

Why do this?

Answering an issue with "I don't know" deprives the narcissist of important attention. The person seeking a solution will simply advance to somebody else who might help them. That's an enormous ego hit.

That's why you'll often find narcissists rambling on about topics they need no business speaking on.

2. They Are A Nasty Friend

The narcissist is usually a nasty friend but you'll typically find them playing the victim. confirm to urge all sides of the story if you're unsure.

What are some red flag signs of narcissism that indicate the suspect may be a narcissist?

• They get irritated when their friends invite help or advice.

• They don't bother to call or text their friends on birthdays or holidays.

• They don't return borrowed items. (A sign of entitlement.)

• They owe their friends money. they'll downplay this as "not an enormous deal."

• They embarrass their friends ahead of others.

• They hunt down or entertain their friends' partners or love interests.

They also treat waitstaff or service workers poorly. This is a dead giveaway. run the hills. Anyone who disrespects waitstaff or service workers views people as "beneath" them. Soon, you'll be a part of the inferiors also.

3. They Need To Insert Themselves Into Every Story

A covert narcissist might not demand everyone's attention. They will, however, still find how to form everything about them. an outsized part of this strategy involves inserting themselves into every story.

Is a coworker talking about their experience with homelessness? The narcissist, too, features a story about being poor.

Is a lover talking about his amazing trip to Vietnam? The narcissist also had a friend who visited Vietnam. And guess what? She heard it wasn't so great.

No matter the subject, the narcissist features a remarkable skill for turning the eye their way – regardless of how innocuous it'd seem.

4. They're Sensitive

At first, you'll appreciate their ability to freely express emotions. this is often an excellent tactic narcissists use to lure empathetic people into their trap.

Maybe a fast-food worker got their order wrong and therefore the narcissist hasn't shut up about it all day. Maybe their boss asked them to prevent playing on their phone such a lot and now the narcissist is crying about it over dinner.

As time goes on, you'll realize that the narcissist isn't vulnerable and sensitive: their fragile ego can't handle honest mistakes and valid criticism. To the narcissist, these are personal attacks.

5. They Form Relationships Based On What Someone Can "Do for Them"

If you're at a celebration and therefore the suspected narcissist suggests you ask someone because they will help together with your career or financial situation, don't ignore it. They aren't trying to assist you: they're letting you in on their game.

Narcissists tend to make shallow friendships that supported what people can do for them. You'll often find narcissists make friends with horribly toxic people simply because these folks have money, own bars, or offers career opportunities.

6. Their Stories Don't Match Reality

Both the overt and covert narcissist has an inflated sense of self. The thing is, they believe their lies. As a result, you'll often find they recall stories much differently than the situations played out.

If you notice that the suspect constantly reframes stories to form themselves the hero or victim, retreat fast – this is often one among the various signs of narcissism. By changing the story to suit their narrative, the narcissist is gaslighting everyone else involved.

It's not cute or funny to constantly need to correct them. Sooner or later, they'll start gaslighting you, too.

7. They Observe and Judge

"There's no way she will be a narcissist. When we're out with friends, she barely says ten words!"

I hear it all the time. By sitting back and observing everyone, however, the covert narcissist is silently taking notes and judging. I'm sure you heard all about her observations on the car ride home.

The narcissist must feel superior to everyone around them. this is often easy to try to do once you don't open your mouth to interact in conversation and instead sit back to require notes about everyone's shortcomings.

8. They Only Hear Bits and Pieces of Your Stories

Does it desire the suspected narcissist just isn't. listening? They're probably not. And if they're, they don't care.

Maybe you spent ten minutes venting to your mother about how you didn't get that promotion at work because you showed up late one solitary time with a legitimate reason. How did she respond? "Well, maybe you'll remember to point out up on time from now on."

You can't be the victim. Only the narcissist is often the victim.

You see this ton with narcissist parents or partners who listen only enough to toss stuff back in your face later.

How to Turn the Tables on a Narcissist?

Perhaps you've gone on a couple of dates with someone or a replacement coworker joined your team. you think they'll be a narcissist but you aren't entirely sure.

After all, the covert narcissist is especially cunning at hiding the more obvious signs of narcissism. Here's the way to turn the tables on a narcissist and obtain them to show themselves.

• Play along. Don't give the suspected narcissist room to regulate their manipulation tactics – play stupid and pretend you completely believe them. Use this chance to document their behavior.

• Remain indifferent. If you want to continue handling an overt or covert narcissist for reasons out of your control, act indifferent to their behavior. The narcissist wants to use your emotions against you. If you don't give them anything to figure with, they'll seek their fix elsewhere.

• Find Support: this might only include one or two people you trust. open up to someone who will validate and believe you.

At the top of the day, the sole thanks to truly turn the tables on a narcissist are to chop them off completely. If that they had any real intentions of adjusting, they might have done so already.

The narcissist won't suddenly see things your way. If they ever do, it's – a) for a fleeting moment and b) to use against you later. Don't believe the conflicting information you would possibly see from other websites or therapists – the narcissist will never change.

With a mental disease, a chemical imbalance within the brain may cause different disturbances that manifest as depression, anxiety, and lots of others. Although complex, mental illnesses tend to reply well to medication because it targets the physical root of the problem: like a chemical imbalance. Though it's been determined that a lot of mental illnesses like depression and anxiety are frequently caused by unresolved emotional trauma, often dating as far back as childhood.

Personality disorders occur due to a repetitive stimuli-reward environment. At some point in their life, the narcissist realized they might elicit specific reactions and emotions from people – and it felt good and helped them achieve their self-fulfilling agendas.

Anything but cutting them out of your life will offer you a mental and emotional breakdown.

No Contact is that the Only Way to Packing Up A Narcissist

Many narcissists have always been this manner – whilst far back as their teenage or childhood years. If you're handling a narcissist, you can't and will not expect them to vary their behavior now or ever.

Treatment for personality disorders often involves things like cognitive behavioral therapy. In many cases, a narcissist can also suffer from other mental illnesses like depression or substance use disorder. (You've probably heard extensively about these problems, too, when the narcissist needs your sympathy or someone responsible .)

ىDespite this, there's little evidence to suggest therapy works for narcissists as personality disorders are notoriously difficult to treat. the primary step to getting assistance is to admit a drag exists – the narcissist will never believe they need or are a drag.

No Contact is that the only option.

Trust in yourself and your network. Because once you get to the opposite side and stick with No Contact, you'll be amazed by all the amazing belongings you can accomplish.

[war-sword]

2019 Draco/Reader Secret Santa Fic Exchange - A Flurry of Memories

summary: Christmastime has always help many memories for Y/N, but now so many of them are imbued with Draco Malfoy, it’s hard to think of much else. A/N: ahhahahaha holy fuck. so i went back and forth between 2 versions of this fic for a couple of weeks before picking this one and i wrote the majority of the 2k in about... 3 hours. so. take what you will.thank you to bae aka @eltanin-malfoy for organizing this exchange!!! i hope you enjoy! prompt: first snowfall words: 2.6k taglist: @clockworkherondale @accio-rogers @mayorofzillyhoo @diademofdraco @drawlfoy @ladybuginthetardis @silversslytherin @lushlavenderskies @socontagiousimagines @acciodracoo

◈◈◈

A drop of wine made its way down the side of the bottle, ending it’s journey by staining the napkin below with a bloody star burst. Y/N tapped the top of her glass with her nail, listening to the gentle ring as she gazed out the window. It had begun to snow– the first of the season. 

Y/N was desperately trying to get into the holiday spirit, and she grabbed her wand with her free hand to point it at her gramophone in the corner to flip her Celestina Warbeck holiday record. The needle landed gently on the b-side and “Merry Christmas, Happy Goblin Days” started with a quiet crackle. A song that would normally make her want to get up and sing, only coaxed a sigh from her. 

Christmas used to be a fun time when she was in school. Large parties at the family estates, wearing fancy dresses and stuffing themselves silly with horderves. Sneaking into their father’s studies to snoop through the drawers before running away giggling, Ms. Zabini’s extravagant gifts of fine jewelry that every year got more stunning. Loading their pockets with olives and crackers, and braving the cold outside to try and coax the Malfoy’s albino peacocks close enough to stroke. And the one year they all stayed at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament, it’s own league of fun and dressing up.

And then she remembers no Christmas parties at all.

Now she has no big house to live in, no fun parties to go to, and the first night she needs to build a fire in her little house always stirs up feelings of nostalgia and longing. It’s annoying to feel depressed for no reason, but almost just as annoying when she realizes, year after year, it’s about how winter reminds her of him. 

The dregs at the bottom of Y/N’s glass have created interesting patterns. She doesn’t remember emptying her glass again. The snow outside is coming down in big flakes now, and her record has gone silent. She still has a few hours to kill before she needs to start dinner. Perhaps a walk in the fresh snow can get her out of her Christmas funk. 

Y/N pulls on her boots and coat at the door. She decides a hat is in order with all this heavy precipitation, and reaches up to the top shelf in the hall closet to grab her warm knit one. Something else comes down with the hat, and a length of emerald fabric pools at her feet. At one end are the initials D.M. in elegant silver stitching. Y/N had forgotten she’d had this. She considers kicking to the back of the closet for a moment while her chest swirls with a concoction of emotions, before snatching up the scarf and looping it around her neck.

A scarf is a scarf, and it’s unfortunately as warm as she remembered.

Y/N and Pansy Parkinson laid side by side on the cold oak floors of Malfoy Manor, carefully monitoring the planks for creaking. “I haven’t heard anything for a few minutes,” Pansy whispers.

“Me either,” Y/N says back.

“Check the clock again.”

Y/N carefully moves herself into an upright position and pads across the floor to check the clock on the nightstand of the room she and Pansy are sharing for the night. Together, the hands read exactly twelve fourty-five. She pads back and lies down next to Pansy again, taking a moment to steady her breathing before relaying the information.

“Shall we go?”

Y/N bites her lip, pretending to contemplate. “Yes. Should we take a candle?”

“No, stipud, we have to go in the dark. The moon is out. We should be able to see.”

Y/N looks back at the bed to look at the lumps under the covers they had created with pillows, and then follows Pansy out into the hall. Sure enough, moonlight streaks through the windows. The girl’s socked feet make no sounds as they count the doors and go around the corner. When they reach Draco’s bedroom, they stop and hold their breath to listen at the door. Y/N can hear that Draco, Blaise, and Theo are still awake and talking.

Pansy gently knocks on the door three times, waits, and then another three times, before cracking it open so they can slip inside. Abandoning all care, they sprint the few steps into Draco’s room before launching onto the bed with their other friends. “We had to wait a little while longer,” Y/N explains, “Dobby was in the hall cleaning.”

Draco, who is perched atop a pillow and leaning against his elaborate headboard, rolls his eyes. “Stupid elf. He should be downstairs cleaning, where the party was, not up here. I can’t believe our family got stuck with such a useless one.”

“That’s why my mum just got rid of ours and hired a person,” Blaise says.

“I’ve told father we should do the same, but he insists that people are too inclined to snoop,” Draco’s eyes glint with importance. “At least house elves you can be sure they won’t tell anyone anything.”

Pansy nods along with Draco as he speaks. Y/N curls her feet under her and rearranges her nightgown about her legs. “Have you tried asking Dobby about the Heir of Slytherin? If he has been around your family for a long time, maybe he knows something.” Y/N tries to steer the conversation to what they were discussing before being sent to bed, a topic they all found very important and adult.

“I doubt he would’ve had access to important information like that, besides, it’s not me,” Draco says.

Blaise, Theo, and Pansy all do the same. “I don’t understand who it could be if it’s none of us. We’re the most important people in our house,” Theo says.

“Maybe it’s a Pureblood who got sorted into another house, and wants revenge on the sorting hat,” Pansy suggests.

Blaise wrinkles his nose. “Ew, like Weasley?”

They all laugh at that, and spend hours into the morning spinning increasingly wild theories, only to be found in a heap on Draco’s bed the next morning by their parents.

The snow outside is satisfyingly crisp under Y/N’s feet. She looks down, mesmerized as her boots cut into the fresh, untouched snow and leave behind a perfect imprint of her boot. She refocuses her eyes to her hair, spilling over her coat and scarf as thick white flakes catch on the strands. Only a few minutes into her walk, she’s dappled with snow. 

Thinking about old times in Malfoy Manor make her smile. The property itself isn’t very far from her current home. After the war, she’d tried to move around to various wizarding communities, but none were all too welcoming. Even though Y/N’s family’s estate was lost to her, being back in the area she grew up brought her some comfort. Even if Draco’s home was still only a few miles away. 

The empty road lined with trees soon gave way to a tiny town. It was once filled with bustling shops for the magical folk in the area, disguised as run down buildings to any muggle passing from afar. Now, most of the stores truly were that, only a few like the food markets, apothecary and bookshop were still open. As Y/N passed the old tailor’s shop, she tilted her head to the sky, sticking her tongue out to catch a snowflake.

“Y/N, have you given any more thought to what colors we should wear to the ball?” Draco moves the letter away from his face, letting his arm flop off the side of the couch. 

Y/N sets down her quill next to the divination chart she’s working on. “Last I heard from mum, she was sending me three to try in green, ice blue and some shade of purple. Do you care to look at the clippings of the different styles she owled me yesterday?”

“Not particularly,” Draco sighs, looking past her and into the distance. At Y/N’s beat of silence, Draco moves his eyes back to her. “I am sure whatever you pick will look very pretty,” he adds, lifting his mother’s letter to emphasize.

Y/N smiles a little despite herself. “I don’t know why she keeps writing you, my own mother is just as accessible.”

“I know!” Draco groans. The fire in the common room hearth gently illuminates his handsome features he’s grown into the past two years. Y/N goes back to her essay. “Pans still not talking to you?” Draco asks, tossing the letter on the table and turning on his side to look at Y/N more directly. 

Y/N just shakes her head. 

“Well, she’ll get over it soon enough, whatever it is.” 

But Y/N knew exactly the reason why Pansy wasn’t talking to her, and the reason was sitting right in front of her. Pansy could be stubborn sometimes, but this was going on for nearly a week now with no conversation outside of anything in a classroom, if that. “I just want us all to have a fun time at Christmas here,” Y/N sighs, resting her head on her hands. “It’s probably the only time our parents will let us stay here over break.”

Draco looks at Y/N sympathetically. “I know. I’ll try to talk to her again tomorrow. You sure you don’t know what’s got her bothered?”

Y/N bites her lip before deciding it’s stupid to hold out. “I think she’s upset about who she’s going to the ball with.”

“What?” Draco says, wrinkling his brow. “Why, what’s wrong with Theo?”

Y/N picks her quill back up and pretends to contemplate her essay agan, so her words seem more casual. “I think she’s upset that you didn’t ask her.”

“Well, that’s dumb. She knows damn well I can ask who I want, and I asked you.” Draco catches Y/N’s eyes and gives her a sly smile. “I’ll talk to her. I dunno what’s got her wand in such a twist these days.”

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Anytime. Hey, speaking of dates, who do you reckon Potter is bringing?”

“Maybe Snape.”

Draco laughs, and Y/N can’t help but feel warm inside.

Y/N is long past the shops, and is almost near what is considered the park for the area. Mostly a collection of short, winding trails through the trees, now transformed into a gigantic snowglobe in less than an hour. Bird sounds are amplified in the silence the snow brings, and two robins chase each other across the path. Their red feathers look beautiful against the white. Y/N walks her favorite trail, stopping to look at the frost covering the berries on a bush, and check a branch to see how many inches of snow have fallen so far. At the place where her path converges with another, she notices another set of footprints. They lead in the direction of the lake, and she decides to follow them, Y/N carefully stepping in the tracks of whoever came before her.

The snow has significantly improved Y/N’s mood. The snowflakes clinging to her hair and eyelashes make her feel like a winter fairie, and the combination of the wine and her layers has her feeling cozy against the cold. She crosses her feet over to fit in the footprints, like she’s walking a tightrope. Y/N is so focused on her footsteps again that she doesn’t realize right away that she’s reached the lake. 

When a familiar root forces her to take a large step into her next foorprint she looks up. The lake hasn’t frozen over yet, and it’s dark water stands out in contrast to the pale sky and landscape surrounding it. Even the bank on the other side is white, white, white, and Y/N’s gasp cuts through the quiet as she takes in the view. “Wow.”

Something in her peripheral vision moves, and Y/N turns to see what it was. Sitting on the bench facing the lake several feet away is Draco Malfoy. He’s the mirror image of the landscape she sees before him, all pale hair and face emerging from a black coat. And he looks positively scared to see Y/N.

It’s a look she knows all too well.

“Y/N,” Draco says, half greeting and half in surprise.

“Draco.” Y/N stares back, almost equally bewildered. “I… I was just thinking about you, actually.”

“That’s funny… so was I,” he says. “Would you like to come sit?”

Y/N makes her way over to the bench, and Draco pulls his wand out from his coat and melts the remaining snow on the bench. Y/N tucks her coat beneath her and sits down, unable to look away from Draco. Despite the fact that he still looks unsure, he’s not looking away either.

It’s been almost five years since Y/N has seen Draco. She can’t help but drink in the sight of him, just as handsome and heartbroken as the day he’d left. Already she’s shifting on the bench to face him.

“You look well,” Draco finally says.

“Funny, you don’t.”

Draco laughs. Really hard. “You can always tell, can’t you?”

Y/N just shrugs. “I am a talented witch, what can I say.”

Draco reaches out and fingers the edge of Y/N’s scarf, and her heart drops in her chest. She’d forgotten his initials were on display. “You kept this?”

Y/N is quite focused on Draco’s ungloved hand in close proximity to her body, but she does say, “I honestly had forgotten about it until today.���

Draco lets go of the scarf. “I remember when I gave that to you.”

“So do I.”

Draco doesn’t put his hand back into his pocket, and instead lets it rest on the bench in between them. 

“I miss you,” Y/N blurts out.

“Me, too,” Draco says immediately. 

Y/N scoots a fraction closer, and Draco’s hand moves from the bench to the top of Y/N’s knee.

Y/N curls closer into Draco’s lap, and dips her finger below the collar of Draco’s dress shirt to trail her nail up his neck and along his hairline. Draco runs his finger slowly back and forth across Y/N’s bare kneecap.

“Ugh,” Pansy pretends to act disgusted as she glares at her best friends from the opposite couch. “I can’t believe I used to want that.”

Daphne runs her fingers through Pansy’s hair affectionately, and Y/N can feel Draco’s laugh in his chest. “Yeah, and I can’t believe how much you acted like a bitch over it.”

Pansy rolls her eyes and just settles against Daphne. “That was like a month, Draco. Besides, nothing could ever separate me and Y/N.”

That night Y/N lays awake in the guest bedroom as Astoria sleeps in the twin bed opposite her. Pansy has ditched her this year to share with Daphne, which was expected, but didn’t make sleeping in the same room with Astoria any less weird to her. But it was fine, really. 

She checked the clock beside her bed. Almost one in the morning. 

Y/N threw back the covers, not bothering to hide her tracks. Astoria was a smart girl, and all the parents never bothered to check the rooms anymore. When Y/N reached Draco’s room around the corner, she just knocked once. The door flew open, revealing a tired, yet no less excited Draco. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Draco grabbed her by the wrist and swept her inside. 

Y/N moved her hand to rest on top of Draco’s. “I miss everyone. But especially you.” She runs her thumb across Draco’s knuckles. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Absolutely free,” Draco says breathlessly.

“Good,” Y/N says, “because I still have half a bottle of wine to finish.”

[slash-em-up]

A Sinclair Family Christmas Vacation: Sinclair Bros Fluff

Catch me fuckin around with the movie canon to make my writing work... it’s free real estate! This is a Christmas present for the most beautiful goomba of them all, @slashermom who not only has a huge brain and giant meat; but is also one of the kindest most generous people I know. YOU’RE THE BEST M!!!!

——————————————————————

You’d officially decide that being ‘on the lam’ didn’t agree with you at all.

The cold truck-stop coffee in the cup holder seemed to look at you mockingly as your stomach gurgled in displeasure. You probably shouldn’t have had a second cup without food to go along with it; but all Lester had bought was a handful of Slim Jims and Cheetos and no one besides him was interested in that particular combination.

You’d been driving for more than ten hours straight today – for the third week in a row - trying to get your small family as far away from Louisiana as possible - all to protect the brothers resting in the seats surrounding you.

The escape from Ambrose and subsequent healing of the twins was something you wished to forget as quickly as possible.

Everything from hiding with Lester from the police, to Vincent’s cries of exhausted pain as you and Lester held him down, to snapping Bo’s dislocated jaw back into place were sanguine phantoms you could all see out of the corner of your eyes – but the only thing you could do was keep moving.

So that’s what you did. State to state, never staying anywhere more than a couple of days, hoping somewhere would feel like home again soon.

———————————————————————

Colorado was just as beautiful as you’d always imagined it would be.

The Rocky Mountains rose like colossal spires before you, stretching out as far as you could see. You appreciated the view quietly, letting the men sprawled across the bench seats in the back get as much rest as they could before one of them took a shift at the wheel.

A glance down at the thermometer showed the temperature dropping at an alarming rate, and as snow began to fall faster and faster through the frozen air, you were suddenly aware that the light jackets that were plenty of protection in a Southern winter wouldn’t do much good when contending with cold like this.

The last dollar bills you’d pulled from an ATM sat heavily in your pocket as you pulled into a Walmart parking lot and slipped out of the car as silently as possible- leaving the heat running and shushing Jonesy’s inquisitive huff with a quick snap of your fingers.

A couple hundred dollars and half an hour later found you burdened down with bags of proper winter clothing and enough McDonald’s cheeseburgers to feed a small army; trudging back to the car through the quickly accumulating snow.

———————————————————————-

“Vincent! Bo! Wake the fuck up!!”

Lester’s cries brought both twins out of their slumber like the crash of a gong.

Bo shot up, ready to fight whatever was causing his brother to panic, while Vincent carefully righted himself, still wary of the knife wound on his healing side.

The car was dark, but for a few slivers of grey light slipping past whatever was covering the windows.

Lester was touching the opaque surface with awe – eyes wide as he felt the cold seeping in through the glass.

“Is that… snow?”

“Aww hell.” Bo grouched “Not this shit again…”

Vincent chuckled at his brothers reactions. The sound ringing clear and unmuffled through the truck from his unmasked face.

The departure from Ambrose had necessitated quick packing by yourself and Lester - and Vincent’s masks had already been confiscated by the local authorities. It had been a rough adjustment for the long-haired man. Not being able to hide his cavernous deformity has sent him into silent depression for days.

The last time the twins had seen snow had been in 1974, right before Lester was born. The unprecedented shift in temperatures had brought a cool two inches of snow to coat the ground in Ambrose, closing shops and canceling schools until it melted.

Vincent remembered enjoying the way the white fluff had turned the streets into a sparkling kingdom, completely foreign and exciting to the young boy.

Bo had not enjoyed the snow in the slightest. This may have had something to do with their father waking them both up at the crack of dawn to shovel the walk; but he couldn’t say for sure.

Vincent’s train of thought was interrupted by Lester forcing the frozen door of the car open and immediately yelping in shock as a small hill of snow fell from the roof down the collar of his shirt.

Bo laughed at his brothers misfortune until his bruised jaw became too sore. He rubbed gingerly at his stubbly cheek until the pain abated, looking out at the snow in contemplation.

Having recovered from his snowy bath, Lester poked his head out of the car – giving a low whistle before twisting in his seat and dropping to the ground.

Another cry of consternation was heard from outside, and Vincent quickly opened his own door to see what the matter was. He leaned back in time to avoid getting snow down his own shirt, but gaped stupidly at the picture Lester made – buried nearly to his knees in freshly fallen snow.

“Is it supposed to get this deep?”

Before Vincent could answer Jonesy decided to join the fun, and leapt from the bench between Bo and him to launch herself into the snow.

The younger twin called out after the quickly retreating form of his dog before climbing out of the car and taking off after her himself.

“GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!!!” Bo roared from his seat in the car.

Lester was now chasing after Vincent who was chasing after Jonesy and Bo had had quite enough of these snowy antics thank you very much.

This was the scene you arrived back to, huffing and puffing from behind your scarf.

You stopped by Bo’s open door just in time to watch Lester trip over a hidden rock and face-plant into a snow drift.

“… what the hell?”

———————————————————————

It was Christmas Eve and you’d been snowed in.

An hour further inland and the thick flakes had started falling so hard that none of you could see more than five feet in front of the car.

Your saving grace had been the flickering neon of a 24-hour roadside diner, and once you parked, the boys had formed a single-file line through the thigh-deep snow, trying to make it easier for you and Jonesy to trudge along with them.

The warm building was manned by a single grey-haired waitress and two cooks. They were clearly surprised to see anyone braving the blizzard - all the locals having been wise enough to stay indoors during the storm.

Bo’s signature charm was enough to secure a place for Jonesy along with the four of you, and after a plateful of pancakes and potful of hot coffee everyone was feeling a bit more like themselves.

Despite the biting wind and whipping snow the mood was festive, as the TV played White Christmas and the cooks sang off-key Christmas carols from the kitchen.

Lester leaned back against the plastic booth seat and patted his stomach.

“Ooo boy that’s a good feeling. Real food. Wish ya’ll had let me stop and pick up that doe we saw – she’d make a nice stew right about now.”

Bo scoffed.

“Yeah, and where would we keep it genius? Let alone cook it. Nothin’ says ‘look at me’ more than a deer tied to your hood.”

You giggled and leaned against Vincent. The deformed twin was sitting in the furthest corner of the booth, making sure to keep his ‘bad side’ facing the wall and the beanie hat you’d bought him pulled as low as he could.

He offered you a small smile and took a sip of hot coffee, enjoying the feeling of normalcy, if only for a few hours.

The heated debate was interrupted by the waitress.

“You folks want a warm-up? It’ll be just about the only warm thing you’ll see tonight if you’re planning on braving the roads again.”

“Why Carol, you read my mind.” Bo offered the waitress a cocky smile, making her shoot him a bemused one of her own. He held out his mug and Carol filled it to the brim, snorting as Bo winked at her.

“Is he always like this?” She asked the group.

Lester and Vincent chuckled as you hummed out a sing-song “I’m afraid so… he’s a real lady-killer.”

Bo kicked at you from under the table, but you dodged and stuck out your tongue.

Vincent rapped his knuckled on the table, bringing all attention to him.

“Merry Christmas…” he said quietly.

A glance at the clock told you all that it was indeed officially Christmas morning.

You smiled, sharing warm looks with Lester and Vincent, returning the holiday sentiment. Bo looked around at you, at his brothers, at his family - bruised and broken, but somehow, still alive and together.

He raised his coffee cup as Bing and Rosemary began singing ‘White Christmas’.

“And a happy New Year…”

[generalpaperstranger]

A natural disaster … in all 50 states’ is unfolding just as travelers disperse nationwide after Thanksgiving

As millions of Americans head home after Thanksgiving, the coronavirus could be hitching a ride — threatening to plant seeds of infection across the country as the US on Sunday topped more than 100,000 new cases for the 27th consecutive day.

So far Sunday, the United States has reported 109,671 new cases and 731 deaths, according to Johns Hopkins University.

A surge of new travel-related infections could overwhelm hospitals already stretched to capacity. Hospitalizations of Covid-19 patients reached a record high of 93,238 on Sunday, trumping Saturday’s record-breaking 91,635 figure, according to the Covid Tracking Project.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12882

It is the third time there have been over 90,000 Americans hospitalized with Covid-19 — the first being Thursday with 90,481 before a drop to 89,834 Friday that could be attributed to inconsistencies in reporting over Thanksgiving.

“There’s no way that the hospitals can be fully prepared for what we’re currently facing,” emergency medicine physician Dr. Megan Ranney said.

“This is like a natural disaster occurring in all 50 states at the same time. There are not adequate beds. There are not adequate staff. And because of the lack of national preparation, there are still not adequate supplies,” said Ranney, a CNN medical analyst and director of the Brown-Lifespan Center for Digital Health at Brown University.

“Here in Rhode Island, we are currently planning to open our field hospital on Tuesday because our hospitals are so full of sick Covid-19 patients. But not every state has that option,” she said.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12886

“And even if you open a field hospital, if you have hundreds of staff who are sick — which is what many states across the country are currently facing — if you don’t have nurses and doctors and respiratory techs, even a field hospital isn’t going to save you. Our health care system is literally at the breaking point right now, thanks to Covid-19.”

New cases now mean new hospitalizations by Christmas

Sunday is expected to be the busiest air travel day of the entire pandemic even though the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommended that Americans not travel for Thanksgiving.

Roughly 6 million travelers passed through security at US airports after the CDC’s travel warning in the week leading up to Thanksgiving.

But it will be weeks before anyone knows how much of a role Thanksgiving gatherings and travel play in new hospitalizations and deaths.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12893

“When you look at people who are hospitalized today, they were infected two weeks ago, maybe more,” said Dr. Jonathan Reiner, a professor of medicine at George Washington University. “And then it takes usually another week for folks to succumb to the illness.”

So infections picked up on Thanksgiving “are going to show up in three weeks and are going to show up in deaths over Christmas and New Year’s and are going to spread in every state,” Ranney said.

Statistics reported in the days after the holiday might show a relative dip in Covid-19 cases, followed by a surge due to a lag in government agencies’ reporting over the long weekend.

And given coronavirus’ lengthy incubation time and how long it takes an infected person to test positive, cases related to Thanksgiving are unlikely to show in public data until the first full week of December at the earliest.

Even before then, Covid-19 is killing Americans at a staggering rate. At least 1,189 new deaths were reported on Saturday alone, according to Johns Hopkins University.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12894

More than 266,000 people in the US have died from Covid-19 since the pandemic began.

Birx: ‘If you’re young and you gathered,’ get tested

Health experts say anyone who gathered with people outside their household should take serious precautions in the coming days, especially young people who might be carrying and spreading coronavirus without any symptoms.

“If you’re young and you gathered, you need to be tested about five to 10 days later,” said Dr. Deborah Birx on CBS’s “Face the Nation” on Sunday. “You need to assume that you’re infected and not go near your grandparents and aunts and others without a mask.”

Birx, a member of the White House coronavirus task force, recommended those over age 65 get tested immediately if they develop any symptoms.

“If you’re over 65 or you have comorbidities and you gathered at Thanksgiving — if you develop any symptoms, you need to be tested immediately,” she said.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12896

ER doctor wants people to follow stay-at-home orders

Many hospitals are on the brink of exceeding capacity, threatening reduced care for everyone — even those without coronavirus. So officials around the country have reinstated or rolled back on restrictions. In Los Angeles County, a three-week stay-at-home order goes into effect on Monday.

What I wish is that people would follow those stay-at-home orders,” said Ranney, the emergency medicine physician in Rhode Island.

“I can’t tell you how many patients I take care of who tell me, ‘Well, I just went to an indoor restaurant.’ Or, ‘I just went to a party with a few friends. I didn’t actually think I was going to catch Covid.’ So those stay-at-home orders are critical.”

The Los Angeles County stay-at-home order prohibits all public and private gatherings with people outside a single household.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12897

“Residents are advised to stay home as much as possible and always wear a face covering over their nose and mouth when they are outside their household and around others,” the county’s public health department said.

The order is in effect through December 20. It does not apply to “faith based services and protests, which are constitutionally protected rights,” the health department said.

Essential retail businesses will be limited to 35% occupancy, while the occupancy limit for nonessential retail operations, personal care services and libraries will be 20%, the county said.

“Even if you’re not feeling sick, the simple act of gathering with people outside your household puts everyone at risk,” county health director Barbara Ferrer said.

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12899

Ranney said it’s possible some schools and workplaces can operate safely if precautions are met.

“I think it’s really important that you keep safe workplaces and safe schools open,” she said. “We know that in those structured settings, where people are masked, keeping a distance, having adequate ventilation, the spread of the virus is pretty low in those settings,” she said.

“I am hopeful that that type of order will be effective. And we’ve seen in France that it works,” Ranney said. “I sure hope it will be (effective) in L.A., and I hope the rest of the country can follow suit. Because we need to do something, or — again — this virus is just going to just continue to grow out of control.”

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12901

California set a new pandemic record on Sunday with 7,415 Covid patients in its hospitals, according to data provided by the California Department of Health.

That eclipses the previous California hospitalization record of 7,170 people on July 21.

The Transparent Face Mask has Just Arrived to your city: Comfortable, elegant, communication MUCH easier and it makes you smile!

This unique transparent mask has taken the world by storm! It puts a smile back on your face, is stylish and breathable, yet comfortable and highly protective! Recommended by 98% of buyers with a rating of ⭐⭐⭐⭐, it’s easy to see why it’s so popular…

Who else hates wearing a mask?

The problem is that surgical masks, made of paper and fabric, hide a large part of your face. They make everyday tasks more difficult and it becomes impossible to speak in public, right?

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12904

Old masks become hot and stuffy too. Not only they do damage your makeup and are unhygienic, but they also make breathing uncomfortable and difficult .

And on the other hand, another harmful effect of wearing this kind of mask is how it makes you feel: ignored, isolated, misunderstood, frustrated and even depressed…

If this sounds familiar, you are not alone. Many people HATE to wear a mask for these same reasons…

But, masks aren’t going to disappear anytime soon, are they ? That’s exactly why a team of professional designers have been working on this issue to find a comfortable and affordable solution to the problems that masks have created…

Today, their innovative new product is finally available for sale right now! It solves all these problems and is already selling like hotcakes, let’s take a look at what has made it a success……

Site: https://www.disability-benefits-help.org/node/12908

What is it called?

Called Cleanshield, it has already seduced tens of thousands of users who have already replaced their suffocating disposable masks for these wonderful transparent masks… And it’s not surprising, Life seems more cheerful with this transparent protective mask…

Site: https://aldeliana.medium.com/a-natural-disaster-in-all-50-states-is-unfolding-just-as-travelers-disperse-nationwide-after-9f122b62f8ab

[dailyaudiobible]

11/28/2020 DAB Transcript

Daniel 5:1-31, 2 Peter 2:1-22, Psalms 119:113-128, Proverbs 28:19-20

Today is the 28th day of November welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it is great to be here with you today as we bring another one of our weeks together to a close and then make the final push through the end of this month and into the next month, which is the last month of the year. But we’re here and we’re here now and our next step forward will lead us back into the book of Daniel. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. Daniel chapter 5.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and once again we find ourselves closing down a week and looking forward. And once again in that practice, looking back, looking forward and being right here where we are, we get a glimpse of this thread of redemption that has always been a part of our story. You have always been here, and You are at work in our lives. Sometimes we want You to be at work in our lives and want some sort of instantaneous thing to happen when Your work in our lives is the work of transformation, of remaking us, of sanctifying us. And this is a process that takes place over time. And, so, we find ourselves at little places that mark time, like the end of a week or the beginning of a week and we take the time to acknowledge this, that things are happening. When we look back to the beginning of the year and we zoom forward until this present moment things are happening, You are at work in our lives. This is how it works. And, so, we open our hearts and say continue the work. Continue the good work that You have begun in us. Transform us so that our will, aligns with Your will, so that our desires are things that You desire. And, so, often when we say things like that it's about big things that we’re fighting, maybe lust, or greed, or envy, or whatever we’re fighting, but to have our desires be aligned with Your desires is that we look through the eyes of love at everyone that we encounter. Come Holy Spirit, help us to be Your image bearers on this earth we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

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

And it's…I guess its officially Christmas time around here, the holiday shopping season, all of the stuff that goes into…into the season itself is upon us. And, so, it's the same here. I mentioned yesterday the Daily Audio Bible Shop is definitely full of items for the journey that we are on and there’s wonderful items there to give away and there’s wonderful items there to hold onto for yourself. And normally we have a Christmas box but with Covid and everything this year we decided it's better that we don't try to do that because it wasn't clear we could do it excellently. But we have the Daily Audio Bible ornament, the Christmas ornament that we make each year with the words of the year on in the year that it represents, and we’ve been doing that for a bunch years now and we didn’t want to not have that. So, we do. And it's just, make your own Christmas box this year. If you spend $40 or more in the Daily Audio Bible Shop, we will send you the 2020 Christmas ornament along with your order. So, check that out. That is going on right now while supplies last.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible in this season you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There’s a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement 877-942-4253 is number to dial or just hit the Hotline button in the app, it’s the little red button up at the top and you can share from there no matter where you are in the world.

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:

Good morning everyone from Budapest this is John, John in Budapest and the many of the longtime listeners will know me as Paul in Barcelona. I know we all have our fun nick names and mine is rather boring, but Paul in Barcelona has moved to Budapest and taken his middle name of John as his nickname. So, I’m John and Budapest now. Okay? And doing quite well with my Hungarian by the way. So, you know, also if anyone wants to follow me on Facebook look for John Ransom in Budapest. So, John Ransom. So anyway, that’s not the cause of this message, the cause of this message is to just ask for special prayer for both Brian and Jill but also the entire staff during these very frenetic holiday season days. And I also want to kinda do a shout out for someone many of the new listeners will not know – SJ, SarahJane in Colorado in the DAB warehouse. And they’re gonna be going through just craziness starting from now. And, so, I just want us all to lift them up in prayer, you know, that they would have all the resources they need. They’re shipping out all those goodies to all of us and…but they’re…it’s not just what they do, it’s who they are. And they’re just pillars of the DAB from the very beginning. SJ has, you know, was in the UK, formerly organized some of the first European meetings. I could go on and on. So, we just pray for you. I also want to give a shout out to Victoria Soldier. Victoria I was praying for you this morning as I had breakfast with Abba and I just love your sweet spirit and your powerful prayers. Blind Tony and so so many others I send you much love and it’s a pleasure to be on the pod waves again with you. God bless.

Hey this is the Prodigal calling in. Just listened to the pain and the heartbreak of Terry the trucker. He’s back out in his truck again because of this plague and I just beg God to let the devil take his foot off…off Terry’s neck and give him some peace, he and his wife. They’ve been together 32 years, a lot longer than me and mine. And he needs some comfort. And only you Holy Spirit and the Lord Jesus Christ can give him that comfort. So, please God I beg that You…sorry I just worked out…You give him some peace, some release, some grace. Shine Your light on him. Let him rise up and get back in with his wife and with all the losses and everything lead as normal life as possible. We’re all challenged, we’re all plagued. It’s part of the human condition these days and it doesn’t look like it’s gonna get better for a while. So, please just…I beg You’d help everybody who calls in with cancer and MS and divorces and loneliness and depression. Unfortunately, I’ve had all those simultaneously and it sucks. So, Terry I know how you feel brother and it broke my heart dude. So, I’m praying for you. Always love to hear your calls. And you keep on drivin’ keep on truckin’ brother and God’s there with you. He’s riddin’ with you in the truck. He’ll heal ya. He’ll help ya. He’ll lift you up. Praying. And only …

This is I am Blessed from Canada and I don’t call in very often, but God is prompting me so often to call in and I don’t know why I don’t. So, in the midst of doing my dishes right now listening to the prayers I thought, “here it comes again. God’s prompting.” And I’m not gonna ignore this time. I just want to let God’s Yellow Flower know that you are in my heart, my thoughts, my prayers. Praying for Keith. Love you and can only imagine how difficult this is. You bring a smile to my face. The talk about the pounding of the concrete. I wonder whether that’s on Cordon Avenue or Pembina Highway or I don’t know I’ve driven by so much construction lately and I think of my other fellow Winnipeggers like Nave. Where you these days? And I’m just so thankful that there is community out there. And I think so often as I drive down, “I wonder if anyone out here is a DABber?” And it’s just such a big part of my life and I just thank you Brian for that. And I thank You Lord for everything for You have done and that You’ve called Brian to do and his faithfulness and for the faithfulness of others that call in. It’s just so valuable. Thank you, Jesus for these people.

Hey there Daily Audio Bible family this is John from Bethlehem Pennsylvania I hope you are doing awesome. I wanted to say first of all happy Thanksgiving to everybody it is Tuesday the 24th November, hard to believe. But happy Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving week. There’s so much to be thankful for. Family if you would be so kind as to keep a couple people in mind for me. We’ve got a good friend her name’s Jill and she’s on our worship team for our church in Easton Pennsylvania and she’s having some complications after having surgery…and…with some infection. If you can keep Jill in mind, that God’s amazing power and healing and mighty touch would be on her for healing and wholeness and health and peace and comfort and bring her through that, I…I’d greatly appreciate it. And then, if you could keep Pastor Randy and Maribel Landis in mind as well, they…they tragically lost…they’re the senior pastors for our church, Life Church here in the Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania…and they tragically lost their son Randall who’s in his 30s last week. Pastor Randy and Randal, his son were doing mission work in the Dominican and his son got a mosquito bite and tragically died two days later of dengue. So, it’s a tragic time as it is for so, so many. I love you guys and covet your prayers over all these folks in Jesus’ name. Thank you.

Hello, my dear Daily Audio Bible family. How are you? I am so thankful for you for the Hardin family, thankful for technology that we can go through the Bible together in community during this pandemic in this crazy year. I am so thankful for all of you who prayed for our coworker Barb. The surgery to remove the tumor that was behind her ear in her skull was a complete success. They didn’t think that they would get all of the tumor, but they did, 100%. Not only that, her nerves in her face all the things that she was concerned about were totally protected and she has complete use, function of her nerves. Thank you, Lord we are so grateful. Today Brian read the passage about spouses with…well…with Christians with unbelieving spouses. I want to pray for some of those people. Lord, I want to lift up Radiant Rachel to You and Joe and all of the people in our Daily Audio  Bible community who love You and seek You, who worship You and whose spouses are not walking with You. Father, I just pray that You would do mighty work through these brothers and sisters of ours, that You would help them to be Jesus to their spouses and that You would be convicting the hearts of their unbelieving spouses so that they would see Your love and their sin and their need to…need to bend the knee before Your Father. Also, for our friends who are in that same boat Lord, please just touch the hearts of the spouses. Happy Thanksgiving Daily Audio Bible. Talk to you later. We love you.

[thanksjro]

Everyday Is Like Sunday: Everyone Hates Huffer

This is technically a Christmas story, modeled after A Christmas Carol, but I’m covering it now because time is an illusion, god has abandoned his creations to chaos, and I’m on the downswing of a depressive episode so nothing actually matters!

I’m kidding. It’s mainly because some of this stuff is very difficult to find, and trying to save this thing for a later date isn’t going to work with how the lineup’s currently looking. In that I don’t have anything prior to Roberts’ stint with IDW available to me at the moment that hasn’t already been gone over.

This isn’t even the only Christmassy story Roberts did back in the TMUK days- there’s a comic out there that he worked on with Jack Lawrence that’s meant to be another sort of holiday special starring Optimus Prime. He just really likes Christmas, I guess.

Anyway, let’s get into Everyday is Like Sunday!

Oof, that font. My inner graphic design nerd is screaming.

It’s the return of Matt Dallas! Dallas was the artist Roberts worked with for Liars, A-to-D, the prequel comic to Eugenesis. Having looked into the guy a bit since I covered that, I found that he was everywhere during the TMUK days, and even headed the Transtrip publications. His credits are impressive, to say the least.

Our story begins with Kup fighting Unicron.

Would you look at all that detail! Check out that six pack, dude’s ripped. It’s a good thing this is the only time we’ll see the Chaos Bringer, because that must have taken ages.

Yep, this Unicron is an illusion, and not even one that’s diegetic to the characters. Well, except Kup. Huffer, the resident stick-in-the-mud, glass-half-empty, complete-and-total grump, has taken it upon himself to mess around with Kup while he’s passed out in his easy chair after a few too many, because what the hell else his there to do on this starship? That cord in Huffer’s hand is plugged into the side of Sup’s head, so he’s just pouring this dream narrative straight into his brain. Hot Rod is, understandably, a little weirded out by this, and invites Huffer to instead enjoy the day, because it’s Christmas!

He does have a bit of a point- Christmas isn’t exactly a thing on Cybertron, and just because they have it on Earth, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily stuck with everyone as much as it has with you, Hot Rod. I doubt Huffer would care, even if it was a Cybertronian holiday.

If that last little line reads a bit oddly, that would be because it’s actually a song lyric that’s wormed its way into the dialogue. This comic is named after a song by Morrissey called- what else?- Everyday is Like Sunday. It’s a pretty good listen, I recommend you take a listen. It really matches the tone for Huffer’s whole situation.

The situation that is his personality.

Huffer’s in a mood. He’s always in a mood, but he’s particularly incensed now, because they’ve been scooting around in space for almost a year and haven’t actually done anything. Arcee listed off all the things they’ve accomplished, because she wants him to either lighten up or shut up, but he brushes all that off, because he can’t stand to be wrong, either. And then Bluestreak has to go and open his mouth, having the audacity to suggest that Huffer might actually have an emotion other than general displeasure and perhaps even- gasp!- MISS Earth.

This sets Huffer off, and he goes on a brief tirade on how he doesn’t give two hoots about the Earth. The only reason the tirade is brief is because Ebony decides that enough is enough and outright attacks him.

You probably don’t know Ebony, and that’s okay. From what I can gather, she’s someone’s OC. Not sure who, but she’s got to belong to someone. She looks like she turns either into a wolf or some sort of big cat, and she’s had enough of Huffer’s bad attitude. She says what everyone’s been thinking, and offers to kill him in a sort of roundabout way if life is really that fucking terrible.

Huffer decides he’s had enough, and asks where the escape pod is. This ship doesn’t have an escape pod, but Hot Rod offers to drop him off at the first planet they pass. Bumblebee suggests they just go ahead and let him off here. Everyone’s about had it with Huffer, and trust me when I say the feeling seems to be mutual. There’s literally an entire page devoted to him just insulting everyone and listing off all the reasons he can’t stand them.

Bluestreak looks genuinely offended, like he can’t believe Huffer would even go there.

Huffer fights dirty, too. He goes after things people have zero control over, like their age and how they’re built. Just flat-out rude. He attacks folks who aren’t even present, calling Prowl uptight and Nightbeat a lackey.

We cut over to the two of them having a discussion about the order of the shuttle they’re on, and how things are going to have to change, then it’s back to Huffer acting like a jackass.

You’re just saying that to be hurtful and ridiculous.

Huffer storms off into the darkened hallway, wishing a sarcastic Merry Christmas to everyone. The door shuts behind him, and then everything promptly explodes.

There’s a lot going on here, but let’s try to break this down a bit. We’ve got some full-stasis off in the corner, with Eric Cartman and He-Man’s Oracle featured as pieces, the vacuum from Teletubbies, what might be a porno mag in the lower right corner, and a TI-83 calculator. Damn, guess Huffer got what he wanted.

No, what’s really happened is that the shuttle’s been hit by an asteroid. Considering I haven’t seen anyone actually manning this rig, I suppose it was only a matter of time before they floated into something big enough to hurt. Prowl intercoms for everyone to head for the bridge and pull up the defense shielding.

Off in the hall, Huffer’s face down on the ground. He tries to get up, but the shuttle keeps hitting things, even with Bluestreak at the wheel now.

That’s what I want to know! Look at our detective, asking all the right questions! However, we don’t have time to answer that, because, unfortunately, Nightbeat isn’t our main character this go around.

Huffer is.

Our little bastard man is looking a bit crispy, but seems otherwise okay. He certainly isn’t feeling bad enough to not make a stink when someone has the utter gall to try and help him to his feet. His tune changes though, when he sees just who this kind samaritan is.

Fusion’s a dude who’s only claim to fame is biting it. I suppose that it’s fitting he be our Ghost of Christmas Time-Is-A-Perception-Based-Concept.

Fun little detail about Dallas’ work- he makes everyone outrageously shiny. These sons of guns have been at war for millions of years, and should probably be scuffed all to hell, but Dallas is just like “haha, nope! Break out the polish!” and everyone is glossy enough to apply lipstick with. It doesn’t even stop at characters; in Liars, A-to-D, Mirage fires a missile that you can see Sixshot’s reflection in as it flies towards him.

Fusion, when asked if he’s a hallucination, simply says that he’s as solid as Huffer, and when their hands touch, THIS happens:

Which I suppose means they’re embarking on a journey of the spiritual variety. That, or Huffer’s FINALLY proposing.

The pair materialize on Cybertron, 50,000 vorns in the past, which is well over 4 million years. A vorn is equal to 83 years, which is oddly specific if you ask me, but now you know! Huffer, of course, wants to know how all this nonsense is possible, and just what the hell Fusion’s deal is.

Huffer’s not one for mystical bullshit.

Being a bit short on time, Fusion has Huffer look through a window at a meeting with all the bigwigs. They’re discussing Huffer’s Ark designs, and just who exactly is going to man this thing once it’s ready. Emirate Xaaron suggests that Huffer come along, and strikes just the cutest little pose while he does.

Seriously, look at this, he’s precious, even with his funky grate mouth.

Nobody can mistake Huffer as being inexperienced or stupid, but the problem is nobody friggin’ likes him. Huffer, of course, takes issue with that, grumbling to himself and completely missing Fusion’s departure. When he finally takes notice, his new guide is already in place: Grimlock. The star wipe makes a return, and they’re off to the next scene.

Meanwhile, back on the shuttle, Bluestreak’s having some trouble with maneuvering around all these asteroids. Hopefully they’ll be okay until Huffer’s done with his Christmas special shenanigans.

Huffer and Grimlock arrive at Earthbase in the present day, in the middle of a rip-roaring good party.

Dammit, who let Cosmos into the booze? You know he can’t hold his liquor.

Everyone hates Huffer so fucking much, and I honestly can’t fault them for that. He’s kind of a festering wound of a person.

Grimlock disappears while Huffer’s busy watching everyone’s testament to their dislike for him. Huffer star-wipes out onto the next scene, interrupting him before he can say the fuck-word.

Back with Bluestreak, he’s nearly gotten them out of the asteroid field.

Huffer appears on what might be a moon, and meets his final guide.

Fuck, he’s become aware of the narrative! Shut the comic down, quick, before another Swearth happens!

Our ghost reveals himself to be Huffer, roughly 200 years in the future, and he’s looking ROUGH.

Oh no, he’s dehydrated.

Because he never learned to act like a decent person, the shuttle crew is going to dump him on a uninhabited moon in a couple weeks time, and then that’ll be it.

And then we get into the character study portion of the comic.

Huffer only bitches as much as he does because he’s self-conscious and doesn’t want to let people in, for fear that they’ll see what a useless hunk of junk he is.

Of course, current Huffer still can’t get over himself- even when it’s just he, himself, and him- and has to continue poking holes in this revelation, claiming it to be no more than a dream that’s presenting him with a fundamental personal truth in an easy-to-swallow pill.

These couple of panels are very dialogue-heavy, taking up a majority of the space available, but in the end, Huffer’s last little biting remark is that none of this is real and none of it matters, so just get it over with and send me back. Which Ghost-Huffer does.

Back at the shuttle, they’ve cleared the asteroid field, and it looks like it’ll be smooth sailing from here on. Huffer wakes up, in just a foul a mood as ever, as he stews over all the horrible things he heard about himself during his dreams. It looks like he’s about to return to status-quo, perhaps dooming himself to the fate of Ghost-Huffer, when he overhears Prowl chewing out the rest of the crew. Because no one had bothered to watch the radar, thus nearly killing everyone, he’s going to start tightening his belt and imposing some rules and regulations, as opposed to letting people do whatever they please. He names Nightbeat as his second-in-command, which everyone seems okay with (except Kup, for whatever reason).

Just something about this interaction Roberts really enjoys, I guess.

As part of this little crackdown, Prowl’s ordering a round-the-clock manning of the shuttle- half-day shifts. There’s quite a bit of groaning about this, but honestly? I’m not exactly sure how they’ve gotten away with not doing this for as long as they have.

Huffer, in a show of what I assume is the closest thing to kindness he’s performed in years, offers to take the first shift. Nobody fights him on that, and he takes a seat. In the background, Kup asks to have a word with Prowl.

Huffer decides that he ought to lighten up, just a touch, and maybe at least consider not being such a massive jerk.

That decision lasts roughly twenty seconds, and then he gets bored.

Personal growth is for suckers! IDW Whirl WISHES he was this disconnected from his own conscience.

As he runs off to go be a jackass elsewhere, the shuttle drifts back towards the asteroid field, surely dooming everyone aboard. The end!

This was a fun, somewhat bitter little story that tried its hand at picking apart a narrative that’s been run into the ground. Sorry, Roberts, but nobody’s gonna do it better than A Muppet’s Christmas Carol.

Up next, we’ll be looking at something a little different. Something not written by Roberts, but based on his work.

We’re going to read Eugenesis fanfiction.

[themarchblessing]

Como Estan?

COREY 

Making a left at the stop sign and following the line of traffic I glanced in the rear view mirror to a depressing sight. 

“Fuck.” I groaned. “Goddamn it.” Thinking quick on my feet I reached behind me to tap Izaiah’s leg. “Zay, wake up.” I shook his legs feeling him move around. 

“Stop.” He grumbled. 

“Izaiah get up man I need you.” I panicked. Checking behind me I picked up my phone from the cup holder and unlocked it. 

“What is it?” He yawned. 

Handing him my phone I pulled over on the side of the road, speedily gathering my wallet and my dad’s registration from the glove compartment. “Turn the volume off and send our location to your mom. Do it now.” I said with all seriousness. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He frantically did as I asked and peered over the baby’s car seat, checking on her. 

“No, I didn’t do anything wrong. Send your grandparents the exact same message and tell my dad to get here ASAP. You turned the sound off right?” Watching from an undetectable view as the officer stepped out of his car, I took a long deep breaths. Living out of the country has been an absolute breeze and walk in the park in every way. Any encounter with law enforcement in Panama is beyond cordial and friendly. New York is a different ball game when it comes to cops and how they treat my people. Especially up here in Westchester. I understand why my folks moved back to their roots but I hate this fucking city so much. 

Sabrina, the kids, Diane and myself decided to take a trip back to the states to see my folks for the holidays. I was so busy trying to make sure the flight here was hiccup free that I forgot to get us a rental car. My dad being the gracious man that he is said we could borrow one of his in case we needed to go anywhere. Bri, my parents, her mom, and Ellena are back at the house. I had some last minute shopping to do so I brought Zay and the baby with me. 

Now I wish we had stayed at my parents with the rest of my family. It’s going on six in the evening which means the baby needs to be fed soon. Sabrina is going to curse me out if we don’t get back in time for Suleija’s next feeding. 

“Yeah, they got the message. Mom is responding now. Pop, I’m worried. What if Leija starts crying? I don’t want any trouble with the cops because the baby is upset. And you know she won’t settle unless you or mom have her.” Izaiah voicing his concern for this soon to come police encounter is making me more nervous. But he’s right about the baby not being able to calm down unless she’s in the arms of her mother or myself. 

“I know. I’m worried too but I need you do everything you can to stay calm and don’t say anything. Alright? Don’t even look at him when he gets up here. Your grandfather on his way right now, yes?” 

“Yeah. He said he should be here in fifteen.” 

Nodding in response I braced myself and handed Zay the bag with all of his sisters bottles inside. Everything my old man taught me about how to address and respond to law enforcement came back to me full circle. I feel seventeen, twenty-one and thirty-five years old all over again. 

“Keep that blanket over her. I don’t want this nigga looking at her face. An-and take one of her socks off so there’s proof she’s a baby and not something else. If she starts to fuss play with her foot enough to soothe her but not too much to draw attention to yourself. And please keep your left hand directly near my headrest. Keep your attention elsewhere. Do not look at this man in the eye.” The older Zay gets the harder I drill these protocols into his brain. Obviously I never want my son to have any sort of negative encounter with police but he needs to know how to protect himself in this situation. 

God forbid he should ever end up in this predicament. 

“I got you.” He replied. 

Once the man knocked against the car I rolled the window down and turned the radio all the way off. Placing my hands at the top of the steering wheel I stared at my wedding band, praying to myself. I just want to make it through this stop so I can get my kids and myself back to Sabrina. 

“License and registration.” The condescending tone in his voice made the hair on my arms stand up. I hate rude strangers. I despise strangers who talk down to other people even more. 

Cautiously I handed him everything he asked for without a word or a fight. Eyeing him from the side I controlled my breathing, waiting patiently. 

“Whose vehicle is this?” He asked. 

“It’s my father's car.” I said with a low sigh. 

“Don’t have an automobile of your own? You must be what, 35?” He continued on with his pissy attitude which is beginning to push my buttons. 

“I’m in town visiting family.” That’s all I care to explain. He doesn’t need to know where unless he asks. Which he probably will. I sensed his knack for being nosy the minute he opened his mouth. 

“That so, huh? Where is it that you live?” His weight shifted from right to left looking deeper into the truck. 

“Panama.” I simply answered. 

“Well do you know why I stopped you tonight?” Finally. The only thing I care to answer. 

“I do not.” I disagreed. 

“You failed to come to a complete stop back there. Do they not have stop signs down in Panama?” He snickered in such an annoying way. 

I can hear Izaiah talking shit at a very low tone. I want to set this boy straight so badly for even reacting but I can’t. 

“My mistake, I could’ve sworn I came to a complete stop.” I muttered. 

“Yeah well I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He walked away and once I saw that he was sitting in his car I reach behind me to do what I’ve been waiting to do. 

“What the f- what is wrong with you?” Zay complained, trying to manage the pain at which he feels from me gripping the life out of his knee. 

“Don’t I always tell you to be quiet? Don’t make another fucking sound Izaiah I’m not fucking around. I’m not giving this bastard even the slightest reason to turn this situation into some shit we see on the news. I can handle this but you need to be quiet and not respond in away way.” Roughly releasing him from my grasp I asked for the Lord’s forgiveness for scaring my son and cursing in front of my little girl. “Where is he?” I questioned my dad’s whereabouts knowing he’s the only one who can truly help. 

“Five minutes away.” Zay gritted through clenched teeth. . 

Looking up in the mirror I dropped my shoulders seeing how pissed off he looks. 

“Forgive me. I’m scared out of my fucking mind and I don’t want anything to happen to you or your sister. Please don’t take my frustration to heart.” I apologized. 

Izaiah reaches forward and gripped my shoulder. “Don’t be. I understand and I’m sorry.”

We went back to our positions as the officer came back to the car. This time he checked out the exterior, the taillights, the tires, even ran his finger along the body. The second stunt he pulled by looking into the backseat made me twitch internally and externally. I’ve become very sensitive to other grown men all in the face my kids. Especially my daughters. All the tragic news stories about children being harmed in some way at the hands of an adult has both creeped me out and made me paranoid. 

The cop came back to the window handing me the registration and my drivers license back. 

“So tell me, where are you headed?” He began tapping the sole of his foot against the ground for no apparent reason. Even with the slight rain coming down and the other traffic passing us by I can hear his foot moving clear as day. 

“Back to my folks.” I stared ahead of me fighting the urge to touch my ring. 

“Hmph. I noticed your last name and it rings a couple bells. What’s your father do for a living?” Now, I’m at my breaking point. I only want two things. A ticket or being sent on my way. 

The sound of a door shutting peaked my interest. I saw him look past the car and mumble quietly to himself. 

“There a problem officer?” My dad’s voice had me silently crying in relief to have another pair of eyes watching this play out. 

“Can I help you?” The cop’s tone switched to defensive the closer my father came to the truck. 

“This is my car and my family. I want to know why you’re stopping my son.” 

“Well for your information, your son here failed to come to a complete stop. I’m trying to get some additional information as to his plans and destinations. You need to go back to your vehicle right now.”

“Can he have his ticket now or do I have to make my own call and have you suspended for unnecessary harassment?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I didn’t stutter. I can have your boss on my line faster than you can touch that glock on your hip. Write the ticket or we’ll be on our way.” 

The worry is over now. My dad made me switch seats with him and the second he put the car in drive I leaned forward covering my face. My palms shook my entire head as I continued to rock myself in the passenger seat. 

“Relax son it’s over. Everything is alright now.” My dad encouraged. 

“Dad, your phone.” Zay said touching my back. 

I sat up and turned to take my cell. Sabrina’s face on the screen requesting to see me shook me up again. I answered and threw my head back against the seat. 

“Corey, what the hell happened?! Are you guys okay?” She freaks out a regular basis so now is nothing new. Since I have the baby with me, I know she’s more concerned than usual. 

Biting my lower lip I nodded. “We’re fine. My dad’s driving.” Exhaling sharply I cupped my hand over my mouth watching Bri get dressed. When I didn’t speak she paused to look at me longingly. 

“Are you okay, baby? Ser sincero conmigo.” She spoke softly. 

“Soy ahora. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Okay, I love you guys. Please be careful.” She begged. 

“Yeah I promise. We love you too.” Ending the call I closed my eyes not wanting to look at anything until I step in my parent’s house. 

——————-

Shutting my door I worked with speed to undo the belts keeping the baby’s car seat strapped in. I see her feet dancing and I can hear squirm around telling me she’s about to wake up. My dad and Izaiah grabbed only minimal items knowing I don’t want the girls to see what I bought them. My dad ushered us inside to a full house. Friends of my folks, distant family and some of my old friends spread out amongst the house. 

Kicking off my shoes I unbuttoned the top of my shirt and went upstairs to get away from everybody. I opened our bedroom door, closed it quickly, and threw my head back against the wood eyeing the ceiling. 

“Corey?” I looked straight ahead to see Sabrina and Elle. I closed our distance and gently set the car seat by my feet to hug them. The smell of my wife and daughter put me back to where I was before I left this house. This warm, tingly, soul igniting sensation does wonders to my troubled mind. “I’m so glad you guys are okay.” She whispered. Her hands on my back and Ellena’s hands on my neck is really soothing to me. 

Kissing the top of Bri’s head I backed up to smother Elle in affection. 

“I missed you daddy.” Her eyelashes tickling my face and her small fingers against my skin made me smile. 

“I missed you too princess. You let mama give you a bath early tonight?” Fixing her collar I kissed her forehead and took her from Bri. 

“Yeah. Where’s my brother?” She asked, holding me close. 

“With grandpa.” I said to her. Rubbing Ellena’s back I used my free hand to finish undoing this shirt. 

“Was she fussy?” Sabrina asked. She stood tall with the baby removing her other sock and going to sit on the bed. 

“Not at all. I was scared she was gonna wake up when I got stopped but she didn’t. I can’t believe that happened. I know without a doubt in my mind that I fully stopped before turning.” Laying next to the girls I pat Elle on the back, basking in the sound of her breathing in my ear. 

“I hope they don’t expect you to stick around to go to court for this ticket. We’ll be gone by New Year’s Eve. Oh you’re hungry, my love. That’s why you look so angry. Don’t worry, mama’s got you covered.” 

Waving one of my arms around I stopped searching when I got a hold of Bri’s upper thigh. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? How bad was it?” She pressed on. 

“My nerves made the entire situation drag on. Every little thing overloaded me with so much anxiety. I kept thinking of little scenarios and how they would play out. If Zay and Leija weren’t with me, I wouldn’t have felt so caught off guard and defensive. I haven’t felt that scared to be alive since Zay was taken away from me.” The visuals of so many years ago when my bitter ex planted drugs me intensified my bad mood. 

“Daddy, be quiet please. Baby sister is resting.” Elle demanded for silence so Leija could enjoy her milk in peace filled this room with laughter. 

“Oh my goodness. She is so dramatic.” Bri gasped. 

“I’m sorry princess. I didn’t mean to be so loud.” Stretching out I felt around to see if Bri was wearing anything underneath of her dress. Not feeling anything aside from skin I chuckled to myself. 

“What are you laughing at? What is with your quick change in moods?” Sabrina’s pat on the back of my hand to stop me from going further I laughed some more. 

“I’ll tell you later.” I grinned. 

The girls and I spent some alone time upstairs for a little while. I know my parents will probably be disappointed with my disappearance but it was necessary. My family time towers over the need to please other people just so they don’t feel offended. I also got to take a shower to wash the chip off my shoulder. Ellena looked after her baby sister since I needed to talk to Lori in private about how I was feeling earlier. 

Helping Elle off the last step I walked beside her with the baby against my chest. 

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Tengo comida?” She clung to my hand and shirt the louder the voices grew. 

“Hambre? A esta hora de la noche?” I teased, tickling her scalp. She removed my hand fro her hair and began nibbling at my fingers as we rounded the corner. 

“Yes..” She giggled.

“I’ll find you something baby girl. Don’t even worry.” Guiding her where to go I listened out for Lori desperately hoping she comes down soon. I can’t tell my parents this but I would rather everyone leave now. I’m not in the mood or right frame of mind to converse with this many people. 

“Corey, where is Sabrina?” My mother asked coming out of the living room. 

Turning to her with Elle clinging to my hip I motioned upstairs. 

“Oh, okay. Do you want to-”

Shaking my head I saw my dad’s brother walking into the kitchen. “Not right now, ma. It’s not the time. Speaking of time..when are they leaving?” Feeling Leija touch my cheek I looked down at my baby to find her sizing me up. The act tickled me simply because she looks so much like her mother when she’s bothered by something. 

“Will you relax? These aren’t strangers to us, baby, they’re family and friends so be nice.” My mom and uncle made conversation thankfully leaving me out of it. I’m focused on my kids at the moment. All this time spent not involved in family functions or conversations has put a hole in my heart. I don’t even consider these people real family to me. Maybe for my parents they have that title but not me because I take family seriously. 

These people don't mean as much as they used to, to me. We share the same relatives and blood line but they’re not family. Sabrina, our kids, and my parents are the definition of family. Even Brian and Ravyn are closer to me than everybody here.

“Cake please, right there.” Elle spoke up. 

“Didn’t you eat already? I could’ve sworn mommy said she fed you while I was gone.” Helping her onto a barstool I walked around the counter to get her something to drink. 

“But papi I’m hungry again. Please..please!” I sat a cup of apple juice in front of Elle watching her place a straw in it. 

“What do you want Ellena? I mean real food not dessert.” I questioned. The sound of recognizable footsteps could be heard as Elle rambled about everything she wants to eat at once. 

“Are you asking for more food, little girl?” Lori sang. Her entry earned her so much attention. That irritated me. Everything except for my family is irritating right now. 

“Mama, quiero comer. Puedes ayudar a papi?”

Sabrina’s light hearted giggle sparked life and warmth into me. I won’t bother allowing anyone else to take away how good it feels to have my wife in the same room as me. Lori waltzed over in my direction appearing happy as a clam. 

“She thinks you need my help. In the kitchen? That’s the cutest thing she’s ever said.” She beamed. “And how are you doing, my love?” I stood still at the stove making Elle something to eat while Lori entertained the baby. 

“Little does she know.” I smirked. 

“Little does she. So...where’s Izaiah? I haven’t seen him since he came in.” Sabrina started entertaining the both of us as more people seemed to walk in. The increase in volume is making it that much harder to drown out the other voices. Judging by Sabrina being so intimate let’s me know that she’s trying to keep me calm. Distracted too. She knows I won’t bring any attention to us now. Not with Leija in my arms or Ellena right behind me. “You really don’t seem happy with everyone here. I don’t care because I don’t really know them all that well but I feel bad for you.” She mumbled, reaching around me to take a bowl out of the cabinet. 

Shrugging without obvious care for their presence or existence for that matter, I turned the stove eye down. “To be honest I would be much happier if they were all out of my face. I just want peace and quiet.” Taking the bowl from her hands I looked around for any bread or rolls knowing Elle will beg for it. I found some homemade rolls my mom made the other day, cut one up and began toasting it. 

“You need something else. Peace and quiet is not going to remove this tension from your body. Or any part of you for that matter. Give me that I’ll do it.” Stepping back so Sabrina could finish what I started I put bounce in my step purely for Leija’s enjoyment. 

“If you’re offering and willing..” I left the statement open, curious to see if she’ll take the bait. Knowing that she will. “If you catch my drift.” Chuckling at her eye roll I took a seat at the counter right beside Elle. 

“Oh honey I’m doing far more than just offering. I’m suggesting and advising.” Sabrina turned the stove off and ladled a small amount of curry into the bowl for Ellena. 

“Baby sister have some too?” She asked. 

“No baby sister can’t have anything but milk. Please Ellena be careful, it’s hot.” 

Hard, loud, repetitive knocks rang out through the house scaring Elle and Leija both. The baby is now upset and Elle is begging for someone to get the door. 

“I got it, Carla, I’ll take care of it just go back in the kitchen with everybody.” I heard my dad say. 

Rising from my chair I encouraged Elle to eat and handed the baby over to Lori. 

“Corey, where are you going?” She called after me. 

“I’ll be right back.” I said. Making it to the door I walked around my dad to come face to face with the cop who pulled me over earlier tonight. “What the fuck are you doing here? And how did you find out where I’m staying?” My attitude came off strong but I’m not afraid this time. He caught me off guard earlier but I’ll be damned if I let him do it twice in one day. 

“Whoa there son, I’m not here for any-”

He shut up the minute I stepped into his personal space. 

“Corey, don’t.” My dad warned me. 

“I’m not your son. You’ve got two minutes to explain why you’re here before I slam this door in your face.” I warned him. 

“Your ticket. I want to see you in court for disrespecting an officer and lying to one.” 

“First off, fuck you. Secondly, you can forget about the ticket. You had your chance to write it the first time you stopped me and you passed up on it. You have a lot of nerve coming here trying to force me to accept a ticket I don’t deserve. Three, I didn’t lie to you about anything. Have a good night.” I got most of the door shut until I felt him fighting me back. 

My dad stepped in between us working harder to get this guy out of the doorway. “Both of you cut it out! Corey, move. Now.” 

Doing as he told me I held my breath in. 

“And you. What grounds do you have coming to my home at this time of night trying to serve a ticket that you opted out of hours ago? I warned you earlier. I’m done playing around. Get off my property and I will not ask again.” 

—————-

Closing the door behind me, I removed my shirt and laid it across the chair. Following the noise I pushed the bathroom door open to find Leija in her bathtub playing with her feet. 

Sabrina is stretched out in the bathtub brushing her hair. “I figured you should bathe her tonight since you didn’t get the chance last night.” She uttered. Her tone reeked of disgust from my behavior downstairs in front of so many people. With our kids present she’s even more pissed. 

My dad’s long time friend who’s also a lawyer and the local chief of police were also involved from tonight’s double encounter with that cop. He really tried to force me to take a ticket he failed to give me hours ago. I don’t think his actions were brave for showing up at my dad’s front door when he did. I think the guy was stupid as shit. He should’ve stayed wherever he was but lucky for him I didn’t get to put my hands on him. But we did exchange some words amongst some other unnecessary actions. 

With so many eyes present I would’ve been a fool to start a fight that would have surely ended up with me in handcuffs. I can’t afford any trouble being that I no longer live in this country. Our flight home is in two days so that’s another reason I can’t get myself into trouble. 

With a heavy sigh I put a smile on my face for Leija. “You love the taste of your own feet huh?” Turning the water on to get warm I washed my hands thoroughly before washing her up. Glancing over to my left I caught Lori eyeing me. She pretended not to but it was too late. “You’re mad aren’t you?” I assumed. 

“No. I’m disappointed.” That dry ass laugh of hers echoed throughout the bathroom and then it faded. 

“Why? Because I didn’t let him play me into accepting that ticket? I didn’t deserve it from the beginning.” Picking up the washcloth Bri has laid across Leija’s tub I lathered the fabric in soap. Little mama is trying to keep up with my movements but every second of action is taking her by surprise. 

“Dammit Corey...ese no es el punto! Como se atreve a decir que a mi? Como te atreves? Usted actuó como un niño y en frente de los huespedes, tambien?” She fired back facing my direction not bothering to hide her anger. 

“You really think I care about what those people think about my actions? News flash Sabrina, I don’t. The only opinions that matter to me are yours, our kids, and my parents. And besides I wasn’t in the wrong, entirely.” Grabbing Leija’s foot I ran the washcloth through her toes making her laugh. “You’re ticklish on your feet just like mommy.” Leaning over I kissed her cheek several times over. 

“You were stupid. Simple as that. What if he tried to arrest you or worse? Then what? Huh? We’ve only been here for two days and look what’s happened already? What are you gonna do if he serves you to go to court? What then?” Draining the tub Lori stepped out, dried off, and forcefully took her bathrobe off the hook on the wall. 

Pumping soap into my palm I rubbed my hands together and placed them on the sides of Leija’s neck. Moving my hands around delicately I rubbed the area down being sure not to miss a spot. Leija’s become a messy eater. After her feedings she typically has milk right under her chin in the folds of her skin. So, Lori and I have to make sure we thoroughly clean underneath our baby’s neck after she eats. 

Thinking about what Bri said, I sighed feeling myself get a little annoyed. Not with her but with the day itself. “I highly doubt that because he didn’t have probable cause to arrest me. I wasn’t trying to start nothing baby I swear I wasn’t. I simply wanted an explanation for why he came by and how he found out where I was. That’s it.” I finished bathing Leija just in time to stop Lori from storming out. Wrapping the baby in her special towel that’s partially a robe, I closed the bathroom door with my foot. 

“Usted todavía esta perdiendo el punto. Corey, move your foot.” Bri whined. 

“You hear all this nonsense? Mommy thinks I acted stupid and childish. Basically I was another version of your big sister. And she’s mad at me now.” Matching my baby’s giggles I took her out of the tub and stood in front of Sabrina. 

“It’s not funny, stop that. And move out of my way, I don’t want to be around you right now.” Lori tried taking the baby from me but I didn’t let her. 

Deciding to lighten the mood I spun Leija around so Sabrina had no choice but to appear a little less angry. I don’t know how but Leija has managed to pick up on our bad moods. If either one of us is frowning or we look upset, Suleija cries. She has a full blown meltdown no matter where we are or who is around. 

“Tell mama to fix her face.” I whispered in Leija’s ear, placing my face right next to hers. She turned to look at me and frantically focused on her mom. Sabrina lightened her facial expression just as the baby started to fuss. Her shoulders fell and her eyes closed quickly. Placing our baby directly in front of her I silently counted the seconds until she opened her eyes. 

Thirteen seconds later and Bri was sporting half a genuine smile. “para ti solo mi amor. You want milk?” Trading places with me Bri began drying off Leija’s head. “Si, quieres leche?” 

I stretched out beside Sabrina watching her prepare for the nightly feeding session. She was cautious not to lay on her hair in order to get comfortable against the headboard. Not a sound came from me but my little girl wasn’t playing along. She pulled and tugged on her mother’s ear drinking her heart away. 

“So are you really mad at me?” I quizzed, sitting up to watch her work. Rolling her eyes again she nudged me with her foot. Catching it I began massaging her sole. “Don’t ignore me, Delores.” 

“I just don’t want to talk about it anymore. You respect my wishes any other time babe why can’t you do it now?” She complained. “Can you tell your daddy to leave me alone? You’ll tell him that for me?” 

“I always do but I want to know if you’re mad at me. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore than you do but I care how you feel towards me regardless if the feeling is good or bad.” 

Sabrina bargained with me that it I let her feed Leija in peace she would reopen the conversation about the cop. I accepted and made the move to go talk to Izaiah. I haven’t seen him since we got out of the car but it’s time for him and I to discuss the stop. My folks know that I treasure them and will always be a flight away but I’m beyond ready to go home and sleep in my bed with my wife. The Christmas holiday is almost over and so is this vacation. 

Panama, we’re on our way. 

[toomanyfeelings5]

the definitive ranking of pulp! the classics covers and summaries, from worst to best

(Note: Pride and Prejudice was not included in this list, as there were only poster and greeting card options for the work, and not an actual book or summary. Had a book and summary been provided, it would have ranked lowest for unoriginality. It’s literally just 1995 Colin Firth staring moodily at you. The caption is “Lock Up Your Daughters...Darcy’s in Town!” which is just unfortunate, frankly, and honestly laughable.) 

16. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte 

You take a novel that’s positively overflowing with drama and give it THIS cover? THIS summary? Absolutely uninspired. 

Here’s looking at you Cathy...

Childhood sweethearts turned star-crossed lovers, fuelled by bitter jealousy and dark revenge. She’s pretty and posh, he’s a moody brooding bastard. Heartbreak, alcoholism and plenty of illegitimate kids – it’s a perfect Northern drama.

Where is the feeling? The screaming violins playing as we read? The moors? The time skips? A hint of the positively bonkers plot that only a Bronte could compose?

15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde 

 Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. On an Oscar Wilde novel, no less. 

Hey girl...I’d sell my soul for you!” 

Dorian Gray might be as pretty as a picture, but he's paid a devilishly high price for it. He'll stay drop-dead gorgeous, but there's something nasty festering in the attic...

Pretty as a picture and still lusting after ladies? Please. Pulp! Classics, you can do better. 

14. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald 

Again, we must speak the ancient chant: Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. 

When it came to loving...He knew which Daisy to pick! 

Sorry old sport, but Gatsby has a bigger house than you, prettier friends than you and a Rolls Royce to cart them all round in. To a backdrop of popping champagne corks and orchestral jazz, our hero bids to buyout his old adversary, perennial jock, Tom Buchanan and reclaim Daisy, his favourite bit of High Society totty.

Nick Carraway gets not one mention, which is odd given that he’s the narrator, the protagonist, and Gatsby’s most ardent love interest. Also strange is the cover’s insistence that Jordan Baker, known lesbian, would swoon over Gatsby. Doubly strange is how tiny the women are in comparison to Gatsby’s massive frame. What is, again, bamboozling, is how the slogan on the cover seems to imply that Gatsby knows how to pick a woman. He doesn’t know how to choose anyone, let alone love them. All Gatsby truly knows is the desperate pursuit of a fruitless dream. 

13. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare 

Romeo looks like he could be Juliet’s father. Juliet looks like an Upper East Side Widow, not at all like the tween girl she really is.

Too wild to live...too young to die!

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou…. Oh wait, he’s hanging around in the garden again. Will young Romeo and his Juliet ever be able to express their raging hormones? Or will their feuding families make this romance blossom into a poisoned flower? Either way, both their houses are totally plagued!

“Wherefore” means “why,” not “where,” though I do have to award points to the summary for placing the blame squarely on the feud and not on these doomed young lovers. Though again, young isn’t the operative word I’d use to describe this version of Romeo and Juliet. 

12. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe 

This is what one would expect upon seeing a pulp cover of a classic novel. Not much originality or flair is present, but at least some sense of the story is conveyed. 

Solitude was driving him nuts!

Cannibals! Captives! Coconuts!

One man’s love of the sea leaves him stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few goats, a bible and a parrot for company.

Will he ever escape? Will his new pal Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? Or will solitude send him totally barmy?

WILL Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? One must read to find out, I suppose...

11. Tess of the D'urbervilles 

Marilyn Monroe?????

She’s...no angel.

The original Wessex girl!

Tess is just a humble milkmaid when the local landowner has his wicked way. Her new beau, the smarmy Angel Clare, is none too pleased when he finds out she’s already been deflowered. What is a girl to do? Bloody revenge of course, and an ending to touch the hardest of hearts.

At least the summary blames the terrible men in Tess’s life rather than Tess herself, unlike the tagline on the cover. And while Marilyn Monroe seductively lounging about with a drink doesn’t recall the faintest essence of Hardy’s novel, one would like to imagine Tess relaxing in whatever clothes she pleased, a straw dangling out of her drink, a smile on her face as she answers to no one and spends her quiet evening in solitude. 

10. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome

An innocuous cover; the men’s faces hint at the comedic nature of this novel, and yet...something nags the brain upon looking at this.

To say nothing of the dog...

Incompetence, embarrassment and general disaster - no it’s not PMQs, it’s a trip down the Thames! Three hapless fellows and a world weary dog decide they need a holiday from their exhausting hypochondria. Hilarious mayhem ensues.

To say nothing of the dog indeed: Why does the dog on the cover have a human face?

9. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka 

All one can say upon viewing this cover is: Jeff Goldblum, is that you?

Change really BUGGED him! 

Poor old Gregor. One day he's depressed about his dreary travelling salesman gig, the next, he's roaching around the apartment and disgusting his family. All that's left is creeping the walls and eating garbage. How's his sis ever going to find a sugar daddy with her grotty bro in tow?

Gregor isn’t grotty, he’s our six-legged hero in this tragic tale. 

And yet in the end, the question that haunts us all echoes in our minds in an unceasing echo: is that Jeff Goldblum? 

8.  Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland 

Alice as a hippie is eye-catching, but not particularly creative. 

This cupcake was off her head!

What HAS happened to little Alice? Taking 'shrooms, hanging out with hookah smoking ne'er-do-wells and being dragged to court. That's gonna be one hell of a hangover!

As much as I’m intrigued by Alice wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a peace sign necklace, the summary and the cover consist of one joke and one joke only. 

7. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 

I just like how Dr. Jekyll in this cover looks equally as fucked up as Mr. Hyde. 

No more Mr. Nice Guy... There’s a sinister man about London town with something of the night about him. Mr Hyde is mad, bad and has a penchant for bumping off MPs and other kindly innocents. Will his friend Dr Jekyll be able to stop him? Or is there something more to their relationship than meets the eye…? Only the intrepid Utterson can get to the bottom of this mystery, but what will he find in Dr Jekyll’s lab?

Points to this summary for including Mr. Utterson, and for insinuating that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde may be clandestine lovers. 

6. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 

Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, don’t we love it when a greedy rich man gets bludgeoned by a mace into being more generous and kindly towards others?

This cat was a drag....’til a midnight wake-up call...

Christmas?! What a load of Humbug. Mistletoe and Wine just don't do it for Scrooge; he's a workaholic miser with an attitude problem. If he doesn't change his ways, he'll end up with no friends and Tiny Tim won't last the year. Let's hope some spooky night-time visitors can put the jingle back in his bells!

Ring-a-ling-a-ling, Mr. Scrooge. The mace is raised and the bells are ringing.

5.  Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad 

The tag-line made me, as the youths say, laugh out loud. 

Whoops! Apocalypse....

The horror! The horror!

Kurtz might be the apple of every brutish imperialist’s eye, but his God complex is getting wildly out of hand in the depths of the jungle. What on earth will Marlow find when he finally gets downriver? Devil worship? Savages? Heads on sticks? Or just another nutty white man with his knickers in a twist?

Surprisingly anti-racist summary made this jump to the higher echelons of this esteemed list, though of course that doesn’t excuse this novel’s abhorrent and embarrassing fake-deep racism. It also must be noted that the tag-line should have been “Whoops! White supremacy!” and the text of the novel should have entirely consisted of Chinua Achebe’s essay on the work. 

4. The Hounds of Baskerville by Arthur Conan Doyle

The cover alone is a winner. A rabid chihuahua out for blood? Inspired. 

Murder...Mystery...Walkies!

A desolate moor, a diabolical dog in need of a muzzle and some inbred locals; Sherlock Holmes is really up against it. With the help of his trusty sidekick Dr. Watson, Holmes pieces together a mystery that has captured the imagination of readers across the decades. All whilst practising a serious coffee and cocaine habit.

The tag-line is fun and catchy, but sadly this summary must be admonished for insisting that Dr. Watson is merely a “trusty sidekick” to Sherlock Holmes. Heterosexuality strikes again, reducing the impact of the striking cover design. 

3. Dubliners by James Joyce 

Finally! Some style, some panache, some flair to accompany these short stories about being sad and horny in Ireland. 

Stuck in the Liffey with you...

Booze, Sex and Hot Floury Potatoes… Those Dubliners are at it again!

Liars, thieves, whores and priests… James Joyce sure knew how to throw a party! This relentlessly downbeat collection explores the very worst aspects of human nature, and doesn’t leave out the juicy bits. It might not be in the best possible taste, but who doesn’t want to get down and dirty in Dublin?

The summary and cover work in tandem to wholeheartedly convince me that Dubliners is an action-packed, slick collection of stories detailing the wild escapades of a motley cast of ragamuffins, and I gotta hand it to the folks over at Pulp! Classics for injecting some bonafide vintage cool into Joyce’s work.

2. Othello by William Shakespeare 

I have so many thoughts on this. Mr. T. as Othello is fascinating, as is the tagline, “Some kind of Bard...aaaaasss.” Is this a commentary on blaxploitation media? One can’t help but recall Mr. T.’s reasoning behind his mohawk, his gold chains, to honor his ancestors and assert his living, unshakable humanity in a racist society. Is this is a genuine effort on the part of Pulp! Classics to imply that a blaxploitation-influenced adaptation of Othello could reveal deeper truths to the play that we have had yet to glimpse? 

Some kind of Bard... aaaasss

He’s a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green eyed monster. Let’s hope Othello can work out who to trust before it’s too late…

The fast-paced alliterative language of the summary harkens to Shakespeare’s own wit-fueled dialogue and penchant for creative language. The summary also calls Iago a devil, which is apt, and implicitly criticizes his racism, hinting at the play’s greater tragedies to come. The cover and summary also work in tandem to emphasize Othello’s jealousy and destruction: the “green-eyed monster” is mentioned, and the cover itself is a putrid green. An excellent example of what a vintage cover and summary can achieve. 

1. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly 

You all knew this was coming. 

This kid was born on the wrong side of the lab...

Frankenstein’s monster is on the rampage; terrorising the locals, unleashing murderous hell… and reading novels in his spare time. Can his petrified creator stop this reign of horror before his girlfriend gets the chop?

A James Dean-inspired creature, thereby making them a queer icon? Masterful. The creature being “born on the wrong side of the lab?” A stroke of genius; that they’re called a kid puts the poignancy of the monster’s plight into even greater relief, while simultaneously emphasizing their tragic charm. The clear distinction between Frankenstein and the creature? Reader, I exhaled in a cathartic release of tension. The loving detail that the creature reads novels in their spare time, like any other leather-jacket wearing, motorcycle-riding ruffian with a heart of gold? Beautiful. 

Truly, the obvious queer energy of this cover and summary highlights an overlooked dimension of Shelly’s great work while also paying homage to what draws us to this Modern Prometheus time after time. Do we care about the petrified creator in this summary? Not at all. He’s not on the cover, appearing both rebellious and gentle. We are here for the creature, in their leather jacket, on their motorcycle, novel sticking out of a back pocket on their jeans, ready to whisk us away to a place where even monsters like us can find solace, and be at peace, and commune with each other. We need only take their outstretched hand, and be willing to leave the mundane world for something better, for the chance to no longer be alone. 

[purplesurveys]

397

Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Now I do. When I was a kid I used to ask my grandma to slice them off. Do you know who Miss Havisham is? Only because of Gabie. Which body type would you say you had? Idk, slim? Would you live in an igloo? I’d try it out for a night, but I don’t know about live. Have you ever made homemade lemonade? I don’t think so.

Is green one of your favourite colours? I hate green. Are you afraid of the dark? Only when the dark is supposed to make things scarier, like if I’m in a haunted house or the woods lmao. Generally I’m not afraid. Have you ever flown a kite? Yes, many times. I still reached the time when kids used to play outside, so I definitely had some fun with kites. What’s your preferred flavour of jam? I hate fruits so the only jam I’ll consume is guava, and only because it’s part of my high school’s signature tart. What’s in your fridge? Frozen food, ice cream, vegetables, some condiments/spices, juices, chocolate, a cake. What kind of animal did you last pet? My doggie. Would you ever consider becoming a nurse? No. I remember there being a huge demand for Filipino nurses like 10 years ago, and it seemed as though everyone took up nursing in college. But I never considered it, not even during that time. Do you like elephants? I love elephants. But not in a exploit-them kind of way, LEAVE THEM ALONE How are you for money? I think I’ll be good this week. I get to save money because Gab and I won’t be seeing each other for our usual date night, and I only drive three days this week so I don’t have to spend a lot for gas as well. Of course, I’ll be flushing these down the toilet because my friends and I plan to drink out this Friday. Describe your best pair of shoes: My favorite is my pair of white/red/blue Onitsuka Tiger sneakers. They’re so comfy to wear and yet it matches everything. Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? I have my moments but I obviously don’t go around vocally stating it, or unnecessarily use ridiculously big words around people. Do you ever think about why we are here? No. That’s Gabie’s question to mull over hahahah, I hate philosophy. What’s something that saddens you? Old people who are alone, when peoples shop instead of adopt, animals getting endangered. Do you like cherries? Hate. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Kendall Jenner, although t b h it is getting increasingly hard to be patient with her increasingly problematic ass. She used to be my favorite but now that title belongs to Kourtney. Who is the most desperate person you know? LOL. She recently pissed me off so I’ll put her on here: my girlfriend’s grandma. What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you during sex? Too disgusting to share with the world, so I’ll have to pass. Are you lonely? Not right now. What is your favourite musical? I hate musicals, but I have a soft spot for Miss Saigon because my mom practically made me listen to it from the womb. Would you agree that taking drugs isn’t as cool as it used to be? I never found it cool. Animal print: yes or no? Not anymore. Who is the most fashionable person you know? Kate, for sure. Sis always serves a new look. Can you use a yoyo? Duh. A Filipino made it so it’s pervaded Filipino kid culture for as long as I can remember. Everyone had yo-yos. Do you like to colour? I do. On my Christmas depression break last year I bought several coloring books and a massive case of coloring pencils, just so I can finally start on the hobby that I’ve put off for a long time. What’s an instrument you’ve always wanted to learn to play? Piano. Would you go on holiday to a snowy place? I would. Anywhere that’s different from tropical Philippines. Do you like Kate Bush? Never heard. Do you prefer to shave or wax? Shave. I’ve never had myself waxed. Are you one of those people who are constantly playing Angry Birds? Hahahahahaha 2011 called, they want their fad back. Have you ever broken anything of value? I don’t remember anything right now but I definitely wouldn’t be surprised to find out that I have. I practically break everything I touch. Would you ever have sex in a public place? Sure as long as we’re not exhibiting it on purpose. What’s a song that makes you want to check into a mental asylum? Lmao wtf? You mean a song that depresses/numbs me too much? Cos if that’s what you mean, then there’s a song on the New Moon soundtrack called Slow Life by Grizzly Bear that I routinely listen to when I’m completely out of it. What’s the worst chat up line anybody has ever used on you? I don’t chat with a lot of people so I’ve never gotten anything bad. Have you ever completely misjudged somebody? Sure. Do you know anybody who is pregnant at the minute? Nope. Who did you last speak to on the phone? My girlfriend, aka the only person I talk to on the phone. Do you give money to homeless people? Yes. If I have snacks laying around I give that as well. Don’t you think that tattoos are just tacky? Some can be. Do you like politics? I hate it, but I have to pay attention because I give a shit about my country. Is summer your favourite season? Not really. The rainy season is. Do you know what OFWGKTA stands for? Nope. Sounds like some sort of boujee rap shit. When was the last time you were inside a tent? Seventh grade. What’s your best memory? As of now, seeing Paramore, my Sagada trip, or rebuilding my friendship with Gab. I couldn’t pick. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I like her old stuff; I generally don’t view her newer videos. Have you grown up yet, or do you still think you have some more to do? There’s a loooooooot lot lot of growing up to do. 20 is not a mature age at all. What is your opinion on Internet dating sites? Whatever works for you. < Do you like folk music? Some are hits, most of them I really just don’t care for. Are there any strange names that you like? Ines. It’s such a pretty name, but it also means ‘annoy’ in Filipino so it’s always sounded a little off to me :( I also saw the name Imogen once and I really liked it, but I don’t even know how to pronounce it + sounds too foreign for the PH so I doubt I’ll ever take the name.

Is there anybody you would like to completely banish from your life? MY MOM !!! Would you say you had pretty decent music taste? Uhhhh it’s fine, but I wouldn’t share it to anyone. Your favourite pasta dish: Truffle mac and cheese or carbonara. Do you know what the most commonly used letter in the English language is? E. Have you ever felt trapped in a situation? Sure. Strangest thing you’ve ever seen? A weird creepy-crawly thing that fell from the ceiling onto my laptop. Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yep, I am dating her at this moment. Has anybody ever called you a bastard? I dunno, I don’t think so. Would you like to meet the queen? I’d take the chance if offered. I’m paying to take you to see a musical - which one do you choose? Miss Saigon. Do you think that the media portrays women as being equal to men? There’s work being done but it’s still not satisfying. Lowest point of your life: Some suicidal stints when I was 12 and 18. What’s your favourite flavour of Vitamin Water? Never drank those. Do you post pictures of yourself online constantly? Never, unless Gab is in the picture as well. Who is the last person you ignored? Elis, my orgmate who pissed me off two weeks ago. Do you know any lesbians? Sure, my girlfriend is. Would you wear feathers in your hair? If it was part of an even more elegant/elaborate outfit then sure. When was the last time you were well and truly scared? Two Mondays ago. Do you know how to use a camera properly? For the most part, but I generally don’t mess with the more specific controls e.g. aperture and ISO since that part I’m clueless about. Favourite member of your favourite band: That’s unfair. I love all of them. Which country would you be from besides your own? That's not... what? < Same. Are you ashamed of your own body? Not really. I don’t care how it’s shaped. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don’t have one. When was the last time you received a letter? December.

[depri-and-anxiousv2]

Me as we speak. Beers and cigs. In a park for it to more "normal" to drink than in my apartment, nut yeah.. alone in a park with no friends and beers aren't, eh.. the thing. Would be nice if it would cure my fucking brain. As for now, the beers only numb me. Unfortunately. And oh yeah, heavy metal forever I'm so stressed right now. Like my heart and mind are racing - I took a pill to slow down my heart beat, and I had 3 with me.. I'm allowed to take 4 in 24 yours if I need it, if I'm extremely nervous regarding something. I REALLY have the urge to take the rest 2 I have on me.... like if it would stop my heart from beating I wouldn't have these fucking thoughts and diagnosises (English isn't my main language, in lack of a better word), I would be not here. Like gone. But at the same time I'm sad about the thoughts of hurting my family and few friends. I attempted suicide a few years ago (I know you can't commit suicide with these 3 silly pills but you get me if you know about being suicidal). My family got very worried, even though I've had depression and anxiety for yearrrrrs. I just opened my second can of beer and I just want to cry. Even tho I don't know WTF to cry over. I'm numb, but depressed. Can't feel WTF I'm feeling, even tho I feel very, very sad. I hate it. I can't feel myself, and that wants me to cut EVEN more, which is a fucking bad combo. Last time I cut myself very bad, I was sooo drunk it didn't even hurt. It only hurt the day after, physically and hurt way more mentally. The doctor said I had cut at least 2-3 cm deep, which is like 1 inch US, I guess. And 10 cm long - 3-4 inches (?). If I had hit a vein (it was in my thigh where very big veins are) I would not have been sitting here omw to be drunk and cutting again. It is a miracle I didn't hit a vein so deep it was and I would have bleed to death, because it took hours to get someone to have time to get to my apartment. The nurse said it NO DOUBT should've been stitched, but my parents wouldn't take me to the ER..... On one side, I wish I had bleed to death because then I didn't have the fucking problems I have. I would be at peace, like Chester Bennington (I really liked Linkin Park's old heavy music, but I realised their song Heavy was exactly how I felt and feel, but because I don't like pop, I didn't listen to it then). And.... on the other side, I know how much it would hurt my family, well, kinda, some of the peeps didn't show much emotions when I attempted suicide) While writing this I haven't counted the cigs and beers I've had, and I have no intention of going home to my apartment right now. My main goal this evening is to find the way to my apartment and not do too much fucked up stuff to myself. Not so I need medical attention, because it is so damn embarrassing, and because my nurse knows me, she knows I can't lie about how I "fell", looking up my journals and shit. But at the same time it makes my parents realize the pain I'm in and have been for years. It's very divided. After I cut myself very badly, they took me to their house, but they wouldn't get me to the ER, even tho it was no doubt to be stitched. And at my parents' they store loads of loads of beers, "in case the neighbors or some friends would drop by", so yeah, they have started my problem with alcohol. Ironically while I'm sitting drinking beers on a Tuesday night (well, it's Summer holiday, who counts). They don't think they have a problem with alcohol *cough* x10000000, but my mom ALWAYS ask me if I have been drinking and how much. I have been encouraged to ask her the same, so she knows how fucking annoying it is to be asked, but I don't dare it. Especially because they help me finance me living in my own apartment, away from THEM. So I don't want any trouble there. But again I want her to know how annoying it is. Like frustrating, but I don't dare. Again - very divided... I hate my depression, and I hate my anxiety. I logically want to bond and make friends but my anxiety tells me "hell no!". And my depression makes me feel like I'm not even worth friends. I take meds and all but I'm still stuck and alienated because I'm transgender. A psychologist told me I cut like a girl. And another wanted me to explain how my genitals look like. And the "official" clinic to "treat" transgender people don't believe I can have anxiety and depression because "you can't have both"?! I have been on T for 4 years, and it's 4 years since my top surgery, but nope, because cis people can't be depressed and know their gender identity...... fuck them. Unfortunately I can't because they're the only ones allowed to treat us So, this rant has already gone thru a lot of topics, both back and forth. At the moment I don't want to be here, alive, but at the same time I won't tell my parents because it's so toxic being there. Both me getting anxious about my dad, but also about them having tons of beers available. My mom can feel and see me being depressed, so I hope she doesn't want to visit me, because she will know right away. And I just don't want to go to their place even tho I want hugs and knowing everything will be ok. But it won't. I just know. I've officially been like this since I was 15, and I'm 22 now. And I've had anxiety all my life. Because of my dad's uncontrollable, spontaneous rage. I don't want to go there, but I want help financially (because then I can't even pay my food, and no cigs or tobacco, oh shit), and I want to stay neutral so to say. It's past my time to take my evening pill, Seroquel.. It normally treats schizophrenia, but in low doses it's against anxiety and depression. It makes me sleep kinda ok. I couldn't be without that pill. On one hand, I just want to cut, cut to actually feel myself. But even tho I'm cautious, I'm scared of fucking up, like the last big cut, and at the same time I want to sleep. Sleep to not having to think (well, having nightmares, but not thinking in a normal way) I don't know. I don't know whether I'll ever get better. In any way. Even with meds, which is fucked because I don't have a psychiatrist anymore. I used all the consultations, and my doctor is transphobic and shit. I Hope my laptop will work and I can game because that has been my escape and extreme joy the past 12(?) years On another note, it's kinda a joy I haven't needed to pee because that's a hurdle as well. I have my STP with me, but it's still a challenge because I'm FTM. This to too much of a turn about being transgender, I'm sorry folks So my decision so far is to have the 2nd last beer I have and then go home. I think. People passing by periodically and I still worry if I pass or not. My thoughts. My fucking thoughts.... can I uninstall my brain somewhere? And like, install better features Trying to get my spirit up with some great heavy metal, well metal of all kinds. I hate pop but metal is so satisfying And regarding bad thoughts, when I bought the beers, I calmly thought about being hit by car. As if i "fell" while the lights were red. Why the fuck do I have these thoughts.. Again, what the.... fuck?!