#i remember when we lived in the country we had a big tree in our backyard and it would stain everything red/brown when the nuts fell

[muirneach]

mom and i found a bunch of walnut trees near the river so that’s exciting for fall we get to have walnuts my favourite nut. also check this out when u put bleach on the otherwise yellow stain that unripe nuts have it turns red isn’t that wild

[06sunnybunny06]

Part 2 (Aren't we friends?)

♡♡♡♡

The next morning, when the sun was just rising above the horizon. You went on a treasure hunt. Why Child could control you so easily by playing his weird games. He seems to be quite good and looks like a good guy. It's just that Childe is your friend. That's the whole conversation.

The ancient map of Li Yue differs significantly from the modern one. Many buildings, at the moment, have turned into ruins. There may be a whole story behind a broken column. In fact, you are now watching the ghosts of the past. It would be interesting to move back in time and compare "before" and "after".

Come to think of it, you've never traveled outside of Li Yue. Before that, your home was a small village, hidden from prying eyes. The parents weren't bad, they just tried, as if they were hiding from something. The villagers loved to live the old-fashioned way. Thanks to them, you had a good childhood, but one question haunted you all the time.- "Why live in such a wilderness if there is a big city nearby?". No one tried to answer. You were greeted only with meaningful stares, as if you were asking stupid questions. As someone who grew up in the wilderness, far from crowded places, you wanted to see a different life. In the city, everything was different: the houses were tall, the rhythm of life was faster, even the people were completely different. My parents didn't really approve of the decision to move, but there was nothing they could do.

- Okay, we didn't break up on the best note, but so that we wouldn't even send a single letter all the time? And what is that supposed to mean?! Did they just forget about me?!

While unpleasant thoughts were wandering in my head. There was a crunch a few steps away. You were hiding behind the trees nearby without thinking. No matter how beautiful nature and ancient structures are, this world is still dangerous. Any evil spirits can appear from anywhere.

Two figures appeared in the distance, looking like masked soldiers. If one of them is a little taller than you, then the other is quite huge. They also seem to be armed. The first one has a gun sticking out behind his back, and the second one has a gun...what is it? A huge hammer?! Just don't tell me that these are the fatuis that are not pleasant rumors about.

"How long do we have to stay here?" - you flinched when one of them started grumbling.

- Until the harbingers finish their work in Li Yue. Our task is to look for traitors, if you haven't forgotten.

A heavy sigh followed. - "Our work is hard in itself. You can simply be sent to another country and not be brought up to date for a long time. Some stay because they are simply forgotten! Fatuis are not liked by everyone anyway. What should we do then? Wait for the locals to devour?"

The soldier with the hammer turned his head. "Watch your mouth. If anyone finds out, you will be executed on the spot. Submission to the Queen is the law. It's better not to say too much."

- And yet I feel sorry for these people. They lived as if they didn't exist. Oh, I would also like to settle in a quiet village to meet my old age in peace, but that's all.

The second soldier nodded. - "Yes..."

- Considering who our boss is, we're not going to get it. They say he's a real psycho.

Their voices could be heard for some time, until they completely subsided behind the dense foliage. After waiting for some more time, you got out of your hiding place. Everything seems to be calm. They're gone. It was eerily scary to even move. Who knows what they are capable of?

You've looked around the area again. The map shows the way from point A to point B and nothing superfluous. It seems that you are close to your "treasures". Whatever it is.

As the journey continued, the familiar surroundings attracted attention. You've seen this place before. I'm just remembering when it was. "This can't be happening." - The legs walked faster. A familiar sight opened up on the hill. It was your native village. Is this really the destination? You were already suffocating from the strain. Childe couldn't have known about this place…

When you went downstairs, the familiar house of an elderly woman appeared around the corner. She used to look after you when your parents were away on business. Today she has been dead for a long time. Someone had to occupy an empty house. But there wasn't a soul on the street. The wind walked alone between the houses, leaving a void in its wake. Now you're really scared.

You found yourself near your house. It became so quiet that even the creaking of the stairs underfoot seemed like a thunderclap. When the hand reached for the handle, the door opened quietly. The house is not only empty, but also as if no one has lived here for a long time. Mom would never have allowed such a layer of dust, knowing her cleanliness.

You were trying to find at least some signs of life with your eyes when you noticed a piece of paper lying on the table. It seemed to have been placed in a prominent place on purpose. The piece of paper was quickly in your hands. A message was written in it:

"Hello, my dear. Congratulations to you! You've won our little game! I would like to see your smile, but there were some difficulties, so I couldn't come in person. I'm sorry, and I promise, this is the last time! A gift is waiting for you in your room!

With love, your friend is Childe.

You were in shock. How the hell does he know?! How does he know this place? Where are all the residents, and most importantly, where are your parents?!

The head turned towards the door. A little girl used to grow up behind her. The walls of the room remember a lot of emotions - from loud laughter to bitter tears. There was a small box with a bow on the bed. His hands trembled as he opened it. There was a silver ring inside. It wasn't just a decoration. It belonged to your mother. Fingers gently pulled it out of the box. Something else was born. Tears rolled down your cheeks when you noticed the dried maroon spots. The legs immediately rushed to the exit. Maybe they were running away from something, or it was all a bad dream. In the morning you will wake up in a cold sweat, not thinking about him anymore.

When you ran out of the house, a sharp pain pierced your head. The unconscious body collapsed to the ground. You distinctly heard someone say the word "damn." The tears continued to flow until my mind completely shut down.

You woke up in a dark room. Although there was a lamp on the bedside table, some dark areas were still difficult to see. The pain was sharp in the back of the head. You tried to sit up when a familiar voice rang out. "Are you finally awake?"

Your body is numb. It was Childe. He was waiting for your answer. You could barely squeeze out a couple of sentences in a painful voice. - "Yes. My head hurts terribly."

The guy almost purred when he heard your voice. So you're more than okay. "One of my soldiers underestimated his strength. He hit you on the head, but don't worry. I punished him personally." He sighed, suppressing his anger. Some fool dared to harm you. Tartaglia made it clear that you needed to be caught and disabled, not knocked out with all your might. Fortunately, he is no longer a tenant.

- A soldier? "there are memories behind the transparent veil. How did you come to an empty village, how did you find your mother's ring in the house..."

His right hand rose involuntarily, revealing a silver ornament on his index finger. You've always admired him. The image of the snowflake accurately conveyed the connection with its owner. Your mother, like you, had the vision of a Cryo. There was a midnight jade in the core, which shone with a blue light in the dark. My father gave it to me for their anniversary. This time it was completely clean.

- Why do I have my mother's ring on my finger?

Chade shuddered. He sighed heavily, sitting down next to her on the bed.

- The fact is that... I don't think there's any point in lying to you. Since you're in danger, it's better to find out everything at once.

You looked at him expectantly as he began his story.

"I am the eleventh harbinger of Fatua, and it is my duty to do the Queen's will. She is the ruler of the Snow Kingdom. Each fatui must take an oath of allegiance, entrusting his life to her. If the oath is not fulfilled for one reason or another, the person will die. Those who shirk their duty become traitors and face the same fate. I have nothing against your parents, but they were previously from Fatua, and I think you know how it ended....

You didn't believe his words. More precisely, they didn't reach you. - "No. This is your stupid joke again, isn't it? Are you lying to me as always?" "You didn't even notice yourself when you started crying again. Everything fits together very well. The puzzle is coming together. Their caution was always infuriating. It seemed to you that a free person should be happy and not be afraid of anything. But they were trapped in their fears from the very beginning. The Fatuis were hunting for them. As a result, they are no more. And whose fault is it? "Are they dead? Did you kill them?"

Childe began to shake his head negatively. "I wouldn't dare. You know, I have a family myself..."

You sobbed, burying your face in the blanket. What's going to happen now? How to live with the thought of the death of your family now. You didn't even have time to say goodbye.…

Childe hugged you. His heart hurt more with every tear that fell out of your eyes. If there was an option not to cripple your psyche..

- You know, I helped you with something.

You lifted your head, wiping away the remnants of your tears. - "What are you talking about?"

"You would have suffered the same fate if I hadn't intervened. The authorities wanted to get rid of all the recalcitrants, but you were not in Fatui when they escaped.

You nodded, and the guy smiled with satisfaction. "I have an idea. In order not to attach you to this dangerous organization as another unfortunate soldier. So I decided to marry you.....Ta-da!"

Your eyes widened and stared at him, but Childe continued. "The Queen has approved our marriage. It turns out that you were born in Snezhnaya. This means that it will be right to return you to the embrace of your native land. My family is waiting for my return. They will be glad to meet you."

"Are you saying that our marriage is my salvation?"

The guy nodded. "I personally buried your parents in another place. It seemed to me that it would be better than lying in a mass grave. Your mother's ring will be our bond. It will be difficult to accept their death, but nothing can be done. I'll be there to help you deal with everything."

You were grateful for his help. Although this is not the life you planned, it's still better than serving a dangerous organization.

Your face brightened, and you nodded approvingly. Childe could barely restrain himself from grabbing you and kissing you. He must not spoil this moment. Everything is going too well.

"I'd like to see the graves." I need to say goodbye to them at least like that.

Tartaglia nodded at your wish. -"Of course dear. You need to visit them so they don't worry about you. Then you will definitely be free." - He took you in his arms again. This is the best day of his life, and it will be even better when you get married....

[bluemoonhoon]

santa doesn’t know you like I do

jake sim x fem reader mini series smau

previous- masterlist - next

NINE

Jake didn’t remember the moment he fell in love with yn ln, which was weird because sim jaeyun was always a boy with a good memory; He remembered seeing 7-year-old yn playing alone in the park of his new neighborhood rocking a teddy bear on a swing; while all the kids were screaming and running around, yn played with the bear as gently as you would treat a baby. Little Jake felt genuine curiosity for the girl in pigtails and ribbons that oddly matched the bow of her bear, and when he talked to her in his limited language after moving to a new country and she answered him with a voice softer than the wind of that day; little seven-year-old jake knew at that moment that he wanted to know more of her.

Yn loved the Christmas season, Jake knew that pretty early on in their friendship, she loved winter, hot drinks, and the bright colorful lights that December brought, he remembered 10-year-old yn helping him and his family put up the Christmas decorations as soon as Jake birthday passed, yn was always a curious girl so when she asked “why are there only 4 puppies?” while organizing the ornaments for the tree and Jake explained his family tradition “we have one for each member of our house” and even though she smiled and told him how much she loved that, a part of him felt a yearning feeling in her voice.

He remembered yn at 15 crying in her new bed because the moving truck lost her teddy bear, where the only comfort her parents gave were the cold words telling her to “stop making a big deal out of this, teenagers don’t have teddy bears” he remembered hugging her so hard in hopes of helping her hurt less and he remembered the face of yn at 16 when Jake gifted her a teddy bear with a pink bow in her birthday with a note that said, “we can’t replace bear but you can have someone that helps you remember him”.

he remembered yn at 17 counting days for the college entrance exam, studying and sending applications to the farthest universities possible, he remembered her excitement when her acceptance emails arrived (which was even bigger than the joy she expressed when her high school crush asked her on a date) and he remembered her even bigger smile when they decided to go to the same college.

he remembered yn at 18 packing all her life in a suitcase before going away from her hometown, how even if she wasn´t smiling, her eyes had these hopeful sheen, relieved for finally leaving, and how the whole car ride was her waiting for the fresh air of a city without surreal expectations on her.

he remembered yn at 19 asking him to be roommates during summer break because she hated sharing showers in the dorm building, he had never agreed to something faster, just like 7-year-old jake, 19-year-old jake still wanted to spend more time with yn.

he remembers yn at 20 running to his room to tell him she got her first internship at a clinic, he remembers 20-year-old yn waking up at 3 am to make him a cup of coffee and pat his back while he was working on a project, getting sweets for them after her work, he remembers getting texts asking for him to get stuff for the grocery store on his way home, he remembers yn face when he forced her to try a new recipe for a dish he saw online, he remembers loving the routine that he fell in while living with yn.

He saw her relationships come and go, he started dating too, and he liked the girls he dated at the time, and he liked seeing yn coming home happy after a date; but at the end of each relationship and each heartbreak either his or hers, jake always wondered what would it feel to be loved by yn. he tried not to think of the what ifs as often, maybe once every full moon, but he could never bring a conclusion to his own secret dilemma: he found someone who knew him inside out, who was next to him in all his ups and downs without expecting anything back and he was pretty sure he knew yn in the same way, there were times where they wondered if they shared the same mind; but that only made jaeyun more hesitant over his romantic feelings because if he confessed them and it did not work out, he would be throwing away a friendship that gave him the best moments of his life.

he loved her, he always knew it, and as they grew up, that love he felt grew and transformed with him. he didn´t know what made him realize it: it could be the sleepless nights they share now in college or the gifts she makes for his birthday, it could be her hugs and how warm she felt, it could be how well she knew him or how they've shared pretty much half of their life together. but he was never brave enough to face the consequences of that fact.

he didn´t know what he was going to tell her the moment she walked through the door: he didn´t know if he was going to keep up with the lie or not, he didn´t know if it was a small argument or if it was going to affect their current relationship; he just knew he was going to say he was sorry, he was sorry for his attitude, and he was sorry for not being able to explain why it happened. he just knew he hoped she would forgive him and he hoped she wouldn´t leave the house angry anymore; he knew if that happened he would spend another sleepless night and he just hoped in this one his heart will finally calm down.

Jake couldn’t remember the moment he fell in love with yn ln, he always just knew that her presence was one of the most important things in his life, and he would go ages without telling her how he really felt only to keep seeing her smile for the rest of time.

taglist: OPEN (@ghostiiess, @02zluvbot, @greenmilkyee, @addictedtohobi)

[vitzi9]

Merry Christmas !

Ghostface x Gn!reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

TW/CW: reader has a mother, breaking in, brief mention of kys

Merry (late) Christmas to those who celebrates it and even those who don't. Also happy new year, I hope this year will be full of money and health for you all. Also if you have any projects I deeply hope it'll realize.

I have the unpleasant feeling this work is sloppy and that I'm regressing and losing vocabulary. Also Ethan gave me the ick here, I made him a total loser.

I literally wrote so many different things and yet I can't finish any of them, this is pure torture.

05/01/2024 (7 409 words)

You're not one to go all out for Christmas, most of the time, it's just a pretext for family to gather and eat and share some juicy gossip. And you love it ! When they're not pestering you with question about your love life or job or study or just anything boring.

This year, you all gathered at your aunt's house. She's a single mother of one, they live alone in this huge cottage far away from the city you're used to. It's nice living here but it's deeply disabling being obligated to use your car to just buy some bread.

In New York, you either walk or use public transports.

It's still fun to be here on vacations, it changes from your daily life. Your mom is going back and forth between the car and the house to empty the car boot, you on the other side, are stuck with your aunt and cousin. Your aunt is telling you how glad she is to finally see the whole family together, saying how much you've grown and bla bla bla.

"Come help me with your stuff !" your mom calls you from outside.

Not making her repeat herself by fear of regretting it later, you hurry to the alley outside. Your mother is already emptying the car, throwing your bags on the ground and frenetically searching for what you assume are her phone, in your pocket.

Walking to her side, you hand her her phone which owes you a thanks before she pulls you to the car trunk. Sighing, your hand grab the bag you brought with you full with clothes. You're staying here for a week after all ! But you can't even take out the bag entirely from its confine as something lower catch your eyes; the tire. It's all deflated.

"Mom, is it me or our tire's flat ?" you make her know instantly. She turns her head to you and frowns.

"Shit you're right." she double check."That's weird, it wasn't like that when we parked here earlier." A small silence filled with bird's singing and light wind replace her words. "It's just our luck, she sighs. We'll change it the day of our departure, your aunt probably has a spare tire."

Your mom doesn't let you answer as she grabs her bag and leave to the house. You're left alone before the open car boot, thinking about your bad luck. Here, it's a necessity to have a working car ! The nearest grocery store is hours away from here by foot and thirty minutes by car.

Crouching down, you put your hand on the holed tire to examine it. You don't really understand, that's some really bad gash, what the hell ? What did you even drove on ? The hole is as big as the length of two of your index fingers. Surely even driving over a nail wouldn't do that.

Are animals frequent in this area ? Or maybe it was already holed at home but the long road worsen it. Just your luck, from every car in the country, or even just the ones here, your car had to be targeted. The world hates you. You hope you won't often need to use your car.

Grabbing the handle of your bag, you slam the trunk door of the vehicle and head to your room. Damn, you kind of missed this place to be honest. You have pretty good memories from here !

The house is quite separated from the other, forest being the only thing present here. You remember climbing up trees, playing in the snow or watching TV before the chimney. And this exact room in which you're staying for the week already hosted you, with its heavy blankets that more often than not itches but are too warm to let go.

You know this place all too well.

What changed ? Life was so cool before, so simple. You did not have to go to a school you don't even like, you never even had to think about later. Your later was asking yourself what would be your next snack. And yet, here you are today, thrown in adult world. And you're deeply lost, everything is so slow and fast at the same time.

You fear you might lose your friends by changing University, you fear to start everything over again, you fear to stay forever stuck in a job you don't like. This room offers you a moment of peace, a portal from your childhood reminding you how everything was easier before.

Shame hits you because you know you'll have to come down to greet everyone when you have nothing to talk about. You're not excellent at school, nor bad, just in the fair middle. You don't have any partner, but you have a few friends. Your life's just boring and you don't want to tell it to everyone. Each one of your cousin always find something to be proud of, you don't have much, nothing to brag about.

To light up the mood, you turn on your phone to send a message to one of your friends; she seems busy as she's not answering. Same for the few others friends you have, some you're not even that close to, only friends at school.

Delight cross you in seeing someone writing you, only for the name to disappear immediately before you're able to see it. Man, you could have finally erased the boredom.

After some time mourning in your corner, your mom yelled at you from the living room to get down to greet the family. Sighing, you turn off your phone and rise up from your bed.

A faint music was heard in the background already, small snacks could be seen scattered a little everywhere on every surface and your aunts, cousins and uncles were greeting each others warmly.

Your mom tells you to come beside her by a sign of the hand, going down each stairs slowly, taking your time, you think about your bed which you already miss.

Greeting every person on the way, smiling, taking news from the family you dare ask yourself what have you done to deserve such a big household. By the time you reach your mom, she grabs your arms and put you right before one of your aunt, the conversation quickly drift to you.

"So ? What do you do now ? How's your new school ? Did you make any friends ? your aunt asks.

You reminded her that you were now in University and not in middle school in a teasing tone, to what she gasped before asking you your age and proceeding to moan about how time flies.

-Last time I saw you you were still so small !

-Show them the picture you have with your friends." your mom almost order you. By her tone and eagerness, you couldn't tell if it was pride of what her child has became, or fear of judgement from the others. As if they were going to shame her for having a kid who did nothing with their life, scared of them thinking you were a loser.

You take out your phone, scroll in your gallery to find the group photo of you and your friends. Your smiles are fake and awkward because the teacher is the one taking the picture. A few months ago, all of you handed a quite big model of the building for a homework, you honestly chose the University's building by lack of better idea. But your teacher was delighted, to everyone's surprise.

He insisted on taking a picture of you all with it to mark this moment forever, congratulating you and complimenting your skills and everything. Did you deserve all this ? No. Did you complaint ? Neither.

Your aunt seems to light up at the mere idea of you having friends, and showing her. It probably makes her feel part of your life. One by one, you present her your friends. Throwing a few anecdotes here and here. She tells you who she thinks is the meanest, the kindest, the prettiest.

Finally, everyone was presented. Smiling lightly, she tells you that she's proud you're working that hard and you turn off the phone. You wanted to leave and grab something to drink when your aunt seize your arm with a frown.

-Where do you think you're going ?

Damn, what is it this time ?

-I don't think I met everyone. Come back here.

The woman practically forces you to turn on your phone once more to show her the picture. You don't outright understand what's the matter as everyone was already introduced, it's when she uses her pointer to show you someone that it clicks.

-And who are those men ? And this girl ? What are you hiding ?

-This photo was taken a while back now, my friends and I don't really talk much to them anymore.

Her eyes glint with a funny mischievous light when problems are mentioned. She slaps kindly your arms, pushing you to tell her everything. You laugh.

-The one with the sleeveless shirt is Chad, the girl next to him is Mindy, they're siblings. The guy all to the left and next to me is Ethan.

-What happened ? They all seem nice !

Well, they are in a way. It's just stupid disputes that destroyed everything. Chad tried flirting with one of your friends, it did not lead to anything as he suddenly went with a certain Tara. When he was faced with the problems he created himself, he said that flirting wasn't equal to a relationship, that he owed you guys nothing.

Your friend was hurt, Mindy wanted to comfort her but, well, she's good friend with Tara and she's Chad's sister so it was complicated. You still talk occasionally with Mindy by the way, she was really nice and never did anything against you. It's just awkward now. But it's not her fault.

So yeah, you stopped hanging out together.

Your aunt was nodding throughout your story, listening carefully, sometimes throwing in some anecdotes of her, sometimes giving her opinion on the matter.

-And the other one ? she asks and for a moment you're confused who she's talking about until she points her interest on your phone.

Right, Landry. You completely forgot about him. He's on the picture since he was working with you as well but to be honest, you're not really close.

He's the only one who stayed with you despite the whole flirting argument. According to him, he likes both groups and is close to both side and it's okay, he's not the one who cheated on someone. But, yeah, it's strange.

No, scratch that, not it, he's strange.

He's in love with one of your friend. Well, you think he is anyway. They're often talking, on the phone and outside. He's always taking part in your group hangouts, buying foods, cinema ticket to whoever forgot money. You could've liked him if he talked to you, because he never.

Every time, and it's not even exaggerated, literally every time, you are all together, Ethan does not glance your way. Even for a second, you could talk to him and he'd answer with short words in a curt tone without looking at you to your face !

And you asked everyone, you're the only one with whom he acts this way.

While he's all lovey dovey with your closest friend. Closest not because you rate your group of friend, that'd be mean, but because you've known her for the longest time. He's following her, she's always the one to bring him to your parties and he'd mostly talk to her. Damn, you're a group, if he doesn't like you what the hell is he still doing here ?

Plus, your friend always talk your ear off about him, how he's so sweet, cute, smart and whatever. Sometimes you feel like she's trying to sell him to you the same way blender or vacuum cleaner are sold on TV.

Anyway, Ethan's weird and he's not your friend.

You simply told your aunt he was the boyfriend of one of your friend, that is partially false as he probably has a huge crush on her, to which she smiled and finally let you go.

You like your family, but you don't feel like telling this all over again to everyone here.

You spent the whole evening chatting with the kids and taking news out of the oldest. Them, on the other hand, kept asking you about a potential partner, school, grades and future. It was tiring but in the middle of it all were laughs, tears and anecdotes you would never forget.

The night has long arrived when everyone start talking about a children Christmas's show happening in town. From what you understood, there would be giant muppet. Some were reluctant because of the driving time and the sun setting but the kids were now overexcited at the idea of seeing muppet dancing.

Honestly, you didn't want to go but they've decided to go out all together now, you didn't have much say in it. Even if you hoped you wouldn't leave the house for tonight.

You weren't feeling it, already tired from the trip and the day. You lied about having a bad headache to stay in. You could rest and enjoy that big house all to yourself that way.

It was hard to survive the strongly disapproving stare of your mother and her dark look but you made it ! You still don't know how, usually, your mom is quite severe on the whole family reunion and she wants you to be there all the time, something about you being disrespectful.

She tells you not to get used to it but while leaving, you hear the others tell her that since your car can't drive because of its tire, there wouldn't have any seat left for you anyway. To what some answer that there'll always be a place for everyone (but you chose to ignore that). Just your luck ! Maybe the world doesn't hate you. This flat tire reveals itself to be a gift.

Slowly but surely, the house empty itself. Each member of the family zip their warm jacket to the very top, preventing the smallest wind to pass through. Your aunt, the owner of the house, comes talk to you with a smile.

"You're not gonna try and sneak your lover in, do you ?

You laugh nervously, still not used to this kind of attention. No, auntie, don't you worry. It's not like you have someone in your life. You assure her that no, you won't sneak anyone in here. Plus, it's kind of gross to do dirty things in the family house but you did not tell her that.

She kisses your cheek, zip her jacket as well and leave the house. Standing before the window, you wave at everyone entering the multiple cars. A few minutes later, the vehicles are gone, only the tire's marks on the frosted dirt are left. You sigh, listening to the quiet wind outside the house, feeling safer than ever.

Finally, peace.

No children running, no parents yelling, no messy conversation screamed; just silence. You can breath and hear yourself think. Without the agitation of everyone, you truly feel the cool atmosphere of the house for the first time.

Should you light the chimney ? Not now, it's not that cold yet. You have time. You smile thinking about it. Yes, you have time ! In fact, you have the whole rest of the evening just for you ! Beaming, you run to your room to change in comfortable pajamas.

Your aunt probably has food in her kitchen but even though she's family, you're uncomfortable at the idea of taking stuff from her without asking. So you grabbed your own snacks. It's weird considering she always offer you to eat all you want.

When in underwear, you think that a good bath would actually be better than just changing into other clothes. And that's what you did, you turned on the water, put your music as loud as you could and slide in the bathtub, enjoying the warm water in these freezing days.

A good hour has gone since everyone had left, silence filled your ears. You were fully ready to sleep in your bed and rest. Well, that was your plan anyway until something crashed into the house startling you like never.

You curse, trying to ease your speeding heart. What the hell ? The sound came from above and then it was just next to you. Did something fall from the roof ? The sound crossed the house !

Of course, with a sound so precise, you immediately thought of the chimney. Did something just fall from it ? Like a tile or something bigger ? A brick, or more ?

Well, you're a little too old to believe in Santa Claus by now, but uh, you're not dreaming, right ? Okay, it's late, you're alone, it's creepy but that sound was probably from animals outside or decoration falling ? Plus, that house's old, it creaks sometimes. It's nothing, right ? Okay, it's clearly not creaking sounds but still.

You wait as still as a statue, contemplating your options. It's nothing, probably, as no sound can be heard anymore. So yeah, a brick that is.

Why does this kind of shit has to happen to you when you're alone ? Your whole family was literally here one hour ago ! You wouldn't be so paranoid if they were still with you !

Slowly but surely, taking your sweet time to get down each steps, you feel your phone vibrating in your hand in the process but aren't interested enough to look at it, eyes boring hole around you.

But when you set foot in the main room, you're terrified to discover ashes scattered on the ground from the chimney and further away in the room, reaching the kitchen, like something had spread them, leaving some kind of footprints. It wasn't human foot shape, fortunately, but it wasn't any animal's paw shape either.

What the fuck ?

Something entered ? What the hell ? How did it even went in the chimney in the first place ? Okay, you're creeped out now. Only, there's no sound in the house. It does not help you feel better, you have no idea if an animal's here with you, and if it's an animal, what kind ? It has to be heavy to do such a sound when falling and trailing that much ashes, on the other hand, it is able to climb a roof, apparently. You dearly hope it's not a bear, well, it's hard for a bear to enter by a chimney but, you know.

Quietly, you get out of the house without even bothering to take a jacket with you. There is absolutely no way you are staying in this haunted ass house. Alone in the snow outside, your eyes are fixated to the windows to search any kind of suspect movements, there's none.

You are absolutely freezing when you take out your phone to dial your aunt number. You need to ask her if there's any weird animals lurking in the area.

But of course, now that you're outside, there's no internet. Okay, you have to go back inside. It's okay, it's probably a bear, yeah, a baby bear. All cute and soft.

But the more you think about it, less you're convinced it's an animal.

Because how the fuck would it be able to go on the roof ! You saw videos on internet showing bears opening doors, it's quite impressive actually, but rooftop ? No, if one of them wanted to enter, they would have passed by the garage or one of the numerous doors of the house, not the damn chimney.

Is Santa Claus going to kill you ? That's the worst death ever.

Freezing your ass off outside, you decide to stay on the terrace right before the front door to get internet without needing to enter. But of course it doesn't work, it's like the lines are cut. Plus, you were scared whatever was inside would be able to punch through the window to grab you, but it's the numerous horror movie you saw talking.

You honestly have no idea what's safer; staying outside in the cold or staying inside with the intruder.

If the phone don't work, you at least need to join your family in town. You don't remember correctly where is it but there's literally one single straight road so you can definitely manage. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes lay on the broken car in the alley.

Yes, one of the tire is flat but it still is able to drive, right ? You don't have any choice anyway. The closest city is something like thirty minutes in car away, so at foot ? Probably one hour. And without jacket in such an angry wind ? No, certainly not. You just need to get the key and you get out, simple.

They key, which is inside.

Okay, okay, you can do this. The key is directly to the left of the entrance, it's easy. You breath, hyping yourself up before you push the door open. It's creaking, your heart beats faster, but there is no sign of anyone having heard you. It could have tricked you into believing you imagined everything but the heavy ashes footstep are very well present.

Keeping your eyes on the house, trying to hold the perimeters safe and assuring nothing would come towards you, you throw your hand on the furniture supposed to held the key without looking at it. The door is still open wide behind you and you'd rather die than to close it even if it meant you were risking to catch a really bad cold for the rest of the holidays.

Only, after a few minutes, indicated by the stinging of your eyes after not blinking for so long, your hand remains empty. A quick glance to the furniture's way confirms you the worst: the keys are missing.

Of course, nothing's easy. Your mom probably took them to her room, to your despair. On the other hand, there's still no sound in the house, except for the strong wind coming from the open door behind you, which makes you cringe. If someone's here, the noise is definitely going to attract them to you. Though, you still don't want to close it.

What if it's a burglar ? What if they are burglars ? You pray it's not a group, hell, you hope no one's here ! But if you have to choose between being mugged by one or multiple people, the choice is already done.

Backing slowly, you start feeling watched and fear whatever's inside might come get you by behind thanks to the back door. You have to hurry, you go upstairs, you take the keys and you bolt outside. Yeah, it's easy, it's an easy plan.

Do you run ? It'll be quicker but you might be heard. Shit shit, what are you supposed to do ? You can't even pinpoint in which room, which area of the house the intruder is ! With your luck, you'll stumble on them in the hallway or even your bedroom.

You won't run, you're too terrified to do any sound. Removing your shoes, you put them between the wall and the door in order to block it if it ever comes to close while you weren't there. There's multiple carpet, your socks won't do too much sound and if you're too scared to put the shoes back when leaving you can still drive in socks, dangerous but you'll deal with that later.

One step at a time, you approach the creaking stairs, ears ready to isolate the slightest sound that could signify a presence near or far from you.

You would have much rather not use these stairs but they're the only way upstairs, even if they're noisy.

The first step is silent, just like the second and third, however, your weight on the next ones cause them to cry, making you wince and stop in your track. In total, this staircase is composed of fifteen steps. You know it, you've counted everything at least once here.

Fuck it, you already made too much noises. Whoever's here know damn well your position. Taking a big breath, you suddenly sprint every stairs, each one creaking in the process, not talking about the sound of your feet heavily hitting the wood. Stopping wasn't an option anymore, not being deterred, your legs finally bring you to your room where you lock yourself in, shutting the door with every locks available.

You sigh, falling to the ground and grabbing your shirt where your heart is. Your head is buzzing, your ears are ringing and your body screaming for help, everything is too hot for you, you can't think but you know it's not the end, you can't rest now.

So you get up and head as quietly as possible to the different furniture of the room. In your head, your pray that the intruder can't tell in which room you went. It's not long before you find the keys, your mum placed them beside your bag. And now ? It was a real trial having to come up here, and now you have to confront it all over again to go down ?

Okay, you're not mentally ready yet, you at least need to protect your back. You grab your phone, now having internet, and lowering the light as much as you can, you go to your socials to text someone.

You can't call the cops by yourself, it could mean talking and you can't allow that right now. However, your different social media won't even load. You're pretty sure a number for deaf people exist, but can't recall what is it. You try to type it on internet, but the page doesn't load as well. Of course, you don't have 4G since you're the one paying your subscription, that thing's expensive. Now, though, you really hate yourself.

To get out of this, you spam your friends phone in order for them to answer to make them call the police for you, the few of them that gave your their phone number at least. While doing so, you notice that Ethan Landry sent you a message a few minutes ago but deleted it. Weird, but he is so no surprise.

You don't stop spamming everyone, friends or family, it doesn't matter. But of course, your mum and the other are busy feasting staring at the show in town.

When you finally get an answer five minutes later (the longest minutes of your entire life), you feel relief flood your body, only for it to disappear when the name displayed was not the one of your friend, but of someone completely different.

Ethan Landry. Again. You retain a snort. Of course, him of all people. He doesn't have any damn social life, it's obvious he'd answer. He's typing, you wait impatiently for his message to be sent, it takes a few others seconds.

"Hey ^^" your screen displays. You want to explode your head on the nearest wall. Who's using those emojis ? "You're spending nice holidays ?" he adds.

What it that opening ? And why him ? Now ? He is not your friend, and isn't he busy ? Working too much for his class to stay the best of the best ? You don't want to talk to him. You're pensive, do you really have a choice in this situation ?

"I see you saw my message but haven't answered, are you ignoring me ?" And as if to light the mood of his already quite pitiful message, he sends you a small "lol".

No wonder he's still a virgin.

He's still online and you can't call anyone, if you talk, they're going to hear you. You don't like him but if he's the only one responding right now, you won't miss this chance. Just as you came to this conclusion, a noise of something falling echo through the house. You almost died on the spot, your heart not designed for this type of scare. Slowly, you hide under the bed, the huge blanket falling from both side of it protecting you from outsider's sight.

"Call copsfor me send them to m yaddress I beg you." you sent him, with a few mistakes as you're shaking, rushed and not watching the screen as you type. When sending him your address though, you watched cautiously the screen, feared he might send the cops somewhere else. To briefly explain him the situation, you sent him one simple word; intruder.

"Oh shit." he says and you never hated him more than right now. Why was this stupid idiot still typing when he should be calling the police ! Doesn't he understand the problem ? You really can't count on him.

He's stupid, you think. You have the keys now, that's all that matter. All is left to do is for you to bolt down to the car and leave. Steadying your breathing, you slide from under the bed, holding tightly the keys in your closed hand. You stand, walking towards the door; no sounds.

With a shaky hand, you grab the handle and open the door. Not getting out instantly, you're careful to check every corner of the hallway before leaving. You know how it is in horror movie, the protagonist often dies right before they can escape. You are not risking it. Your device is vibrating in your pocket, it's probably him again.

Reaching the main stairs, you put your foot in the air, ready to place it on the first step when your breath get stuck in your throat by the vision in front of you.

The main door is closed.

A cold chill run down your spine, raising up each one of your body hair. Why is it closed ? You specifically put your shoes between the door and the wall, preventing it from closing. And in the worst case, if the wind or the force of the heavy door still close, it would slam and alert you. But it didn't. How it is closed ?

You look around the room, not daring move anymore until you finally understand what happened. You're able to see both of your shoes, delicately placed side by side outside, on the freezing terrace. Someone moved them. Someone fucking took your shoes and deliberately put them outside, right in front of the window for you to see. If that's not provocation you have no idea what that is.

Either way, you are not trying to open it. Something is telling you it's completely locked. The wind is growing up by seconds, snowflakes flying everywhere. Fuck, it wasn't snowing earlier, you need to get out of here before you're completely stuck inside. That was your plan before you heard the back door downstairs shut and the dangling of keys, anyways.

Not waiting anymore, you get back to the safety of your room.

You can't calm yourself, you heard keys ! The intruder has keys and is locking you two together ! Shit, shit shit what do you do ? You have to get out of here, quickly before it's too late. If you end up completely locked up, all would be left to do for the intruder is to simply visit the different room until you're dead.

Think, think, how can you escape ? Your eyes end up on the window which you rush to. Opening it, the freezing air outside penetrate the room, slapping you in the face with it's now pouring snow.

You're something like 10 meters/32 inches up from the ground. It does not sound like a good idea to jump from here but do you really have a choice here ? Maybe you can wait a little until the snow reach a good height, so falling in it won't hurt.

No, the negative temperature and extreme weather would cause you to die of hypothermia. You close the window, still keeping the idea somewhere in the corner of your mind. You won't jump now, but if things get too complicated, you are not hesitating.

Maybe you can keep it a tad open, just in case. So you don't have to struggle to open it. You regret not having tried to open the main door earlier, sure the shoes were put away but maybe it wasn't really locked. You thought so but your fear were really what was driving your mind at the moment, you have to try.

There is this old broken glass clock on the wall, you could use it as a weapon. If the intruder comes at you, you explode the glass on their head. You cheer yourself up, stretching your limbs. You can still run if you can't fight.

You can do this, you can do this.

You still didn't encounter anyone after all, maybe you're fine. Standing up, a new found determination filling you, you head to the door. You try to think of a better plan but options are not running to you. It's not like you have a better choice.

You lay your hand on the handle, ready to fight your fears but you stop in your track when light musical notes start invading the silence of the house. You're confused, frowning your brows, you try to think of any reason for it to happen.

There's music coming from downstairs and that's when you know you're done for. Someone's here and is definitely toying with you. By music, it's not even a scary song with lyrics to help you understand what's going to happen to you, or a creepy music deepening the tense atmosphere, oh no. It's Michael Bublé singing his dumb 'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas'.

Great, perfect, a festive music for a festive death, right ? Are you going to get killed on rhythm of it, too ? For a moment, you thought about it being a whole joke from one of your cousin, but it would be too elaborated. The best jokes are the shortest, and this one's endless.

Not having anything better to do, you hide once again under the bed and turn on your phone. Ethan sent you a message earlier but you did not look at it. You frown upon seeing it.

"Can I tell you something ? It's a secret tho. I'm a little ashamed of it."

Does he really fucking think it's the perfect moment for him to confide his secret to you ? "Police" you simply send him, wanting to remind him of the goal of this conversation, hoping he'd understand. After all, he did not even confirmed having called anyone.

But he never answers your reminder and instead send you a photo. It's blurry and at first you don't understand what it is until you recognize the house, your aunt's house. The house you're currently in. It's a picture of you from earlier, when you first went outside after discovering the ashes everywhere. You're outside, before the window, checking your phone while hugging yourself to try and protect you from the cold.

"Where are you ? I want to talk to you." he sends right after.

Your blood runs cold, suddenly the painful and awkward position you're in doesn't bother you much anymore. Ethan Landry, took a picture of you here. Ethan Landry is here, right now. What's happening ?

"We need to talk." he insists.

Is that man the one who entered by the chimney ? Is he the intruder ? You're not typing anything and it must stress him as he adds a stupid "Please answer". How did he even know you were here ? Did he follow you ? How ?

"What do you want" you typed, wanting to know why he was here. You were desperate for answer, you never talked to this guy, he never talked to you ! What does he want now ? Is it linked with your friend ? Did she ditch him ? Maybe she did, and he thinks it's your fault.

But against all odd, it's not at all the answer gives you.

"It's about us."

What ? What 'us' ? What is he talking about ? "Us" as in you and him or "us" as in him and the whole group ? Because either way, you have no idea what he wants. And even if you did, you doubt there's a problem big enough that requires him to fucking break into your house.

"I have a gift for you as well." No, it does not sound good at all. You keep spamming your friends, begging them to answer. You're telling them you're hiding under your bed and that they need to call the police right now or you'll end up dead. At one point, you start to write another message to your friend when you receive a notification from Ethan.

"They won't answer." he says. And for a second, you dare think that he may be connected to your phone. But you quickly push that thought aside, only for it to come back as fast when you're typing "Ethan s insde my hhouse" and "Don't do that" is sent to you before you press send.

He's bluffing, you're sure. You send your message anyway, if you die, at least they'll know. However, to confirm your doubts, you write two question marks in the blank space to check if he's able to see them. To your horror, Ethan sends you two question marks as well.

It's just a coincidence. It has to be anyway because that'd mean Ethan knows where you are. Who are you kidding ? He knew from the very start where you were. He's just tormenting you. Testing yet again, you type "what" in the chat space, and of course Landry sends you "What what ?".

That's it, he has access to your phone. Your body is boiling from the inside, nothing makes sense anymore. How did he hack into your phone ? Why and when ? Since when ? You swipe the notification away from the screen and turn your phone off. Laying it beside you, waiting for another person to answer.

He planned everything, controlling your phone, following you, getting you alone and vulnerable.

It's probably time for you to use the window. You have the keys after all. You'll jump. Get to your car or something. Besides, maybe you won't break your ankle. maybe you'll be able to escape, run in the forest and found a shelter somewhere, wait until the weather is good enough to come back and find your family.

Maybe you'll fall, break something and wake up only to realize that it was all a dream, that you're safe and sound. Ethan did nothing, he is still the weirdo from your class, flirting with your friend and you'll spend a beautiful Christmas with your family.

Your body start to move in order to leave your hiding spot, but each one of your muscle stops dead when slow and steady footsteps are heard in the hallway, and seconds later, the door of the room creaks open. And then you remember with horror that Ethan found the keys, and that locking the door won't protect you.

He knows you're here. You try to recall everything you did that could've hurt him, if one day you insulted him, mocked him but nothing. Why, why is he doing this to you ? Tears fill up your eyes, but you have to dry them. If you have to escape, you need to have hundred percent of your vision. Fleeing with blurry eyes will slow you down.

Ethan doesn't budge. You're too scared to change position and see where he is, but he sounds like he is at the end of the end. You probably could've saw his feet if you tried, but you didn't want to.

Your phone stirs, reporting a new notification. You know who that comes from already. Every muscle in you is tensed, refusing to move. But he waits for you to do so. So you turn it on, checking his message.

He sent you another picture, one which absolutely freeze you from head to toe. It's a photo where only a bed is visible, the exact one serving you as hiding spot. What's horrifying however, is that a large knife is displayed on it, along with a printed photo of you two. You recognize this cursed picture, the one your teacher took of you with the model.

He cut out everyone else, only you two are left. It's the only photo you have of him, and it's probably the same for him, the only picture he has of you. You're never beside each other after all.

You don't give a fuck about the photo, he has a knife. You're alone together in a room and he has a knife.

"Are you mad at me ?" he texts but you can't do anything except try to keep your cries quiet. You knew he was weird, but fuck ! Not that weird !

You hear him chuckle, and seconds after the ruffle of his clothes alarms you. What is he doing ? He's moving, but why ? You don't know what he's doing until his hand firmly close around your ankle and pull you out of under the bed, you scream, try to fight back, throw your legs at his face but you can't even see it; he wears a mask.

Not only a mask, in fact, he is completely disguised.

Window is all you can think. You have to jump out of the window. Never slackening your attacks, you finally inflict him pain, his mask twisting on the side in the process. He falls on his back, holding his, likely, jaw.

You are not waiting for him to get over it as you jump on the bed, slide and grab the open window. You pull it wider and leap head first. You did not think this through, only acting out of pure survival. But at the same time, maybe you would've done the same thing, choosing between breaking your legs or arms, in this situation, you'd chose to break your arms.

But Ethan is as determined as you, before your body can completely fall, he grabs both of your tibias with strong hands. Blood is already falling to your head, you feel it heat up despite the freezing atmosphere.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing ?" yell the man holding you.

Hanging upside down, only held by the legs by a crazy man clearly wasn't part of your Christmas plan. You wiggle your body, trying to make him let go or at least slip out of his grip but you never saw someone as mad as Ethan. You lay your hands flat on the outside wall before you, outstretching your arms to grab something allowing you to fall, to pull yourself down but it's no use.

You already feel yourself being lift up. Slowly, Ethan's hand pull you up, leaving your ankles to grab just below your knees. One of your foot hit his face but he never relents. You yell in the wind for the world to hear, you struggle, fight but Ethan's something else. Ethan won't let you go.

The more he pulls you up, the more his hand grabs of you. While your feet are back inside, your hands never let go of the window border, refusing categorically to let him engulf you inside. You don't stop yelling at him to let you go but you quiet down a second when two other person enter your vision, both in the same disguise as Ethan.

They're outside, braving the harsh snow, just below the window. Exactly where you would have fallen if Landry didn't grabbed you. The smaller of them has a sign in hand, and when you read what's on it, you think you should have jumped and killed yourself.

"Merry Christmas, in-law.

Welcome to the family"

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

Musing Maple

Requested by @birchwood-path some musings on the Maple.

I live in maple syrup country; maples are EVERYWHERE. Sugaring season is a big deal here, not only does it generate revenue but it's very much time for community. If you were to ask around, I think almost everyone would be able to tell of some very fond memories of the sugar-shack, the stories and jokes their friends, family and neighbors shared waiting anxiously to buy syrup. Clouds of sweet-smelling steam filling the air, kids clamoring for maple taffy. The sugarmakers patiently attending the boiling sap, sometimes giving out samples of fresh warm syrup. Maybe some would be able to recant their time collecting the sap, trudging out in knee-deep snow, praying they don't spill a drop. Long before our sugarshacks and [insert state name here] Maple Sundays the native peoples had been making syrup. One story I've been told states that during a time of food scarcity someone noticed a squirrel drinking the tree's sap. they tried it for themselves and found it unpalatable, I can't quite remember how but eventually it decided the sap will be boiled. I've heard it suggested that this or the maple's inner bark was a survival food for first nations peoples. Another story I've seen involves a young boy throwing his tomahawk at a tree, sweet sap flowed out and maple syrup was discovered.

I tend to look to things that were and are important to both the settlers and the first peoples, so as long as said thing is not especially sacred (sweetgrass for example), for aide in learning how to approach this land and rectify my ancestors' mistakes. Thankfully I have native family who I can ask if what I'm doing is appropriate or not. Maple and broadleaf plantain (blog coming soon) I work with in this capacity. Maple, I understand as a tutelary spirit. I approach them almost as would approach the guardian spirit of a place or thing- I see them as a gatekeeper. I ask to be humbled, to be taught a kinder way. To be in right relations with the land and the dead this tree {spirit} has provided for since ages ago. I seek their blessing and tutelage before and while I learn from the spirit of a native plant that I'm unfamiliar with. I see them as the lifeblood of the land, sustaining generation upon generation with their arboreal blood. Great provider, Hail! gifting us saccharine sustenance when all else is barren. In the same way community is built and strengthened around the sugarhouse so too is community, spirit community, built under Their branches.

For the sap to rise we need freezing temps at night and above freezing daytime temps. This, where I am, tends to occur late January-March. Sometimes the start of sugaring season happens to line up quite nicely with St Brigid's Feast; regardless, it's the first sign of winters wane, of the spring to come. I very much see this tree as carrier, emissary or perhaps even embodiment of the "serpent in the land" we are all so familiar with. Recently I have been toying with the idea of invoking said serpent as the "white" or maybe "clear" snake- rather than the red serpent often spoken of, due to the clear sap which herald's springs impending return. Coupled with the fiery orange the leaves turn in fall I am hoping this will work quite nicely. Especially since fire-in-the-water is important to me.

I also find maple syrup a wonderful offering to the land and the dead. In certain instances, (not all, honeyed dairy imo is required sometimes) I have found it more appropriate than honey, I'll sweeten milk or cream with it the same way one would with honey. I think of this as a fitting show of adapting our traditions to the land in a way that acknowledges first peoples and our history while giving a nod to my ancestral european trads/lore.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

Hi, I was wondering how do you imagine the Team Treasure spending Christmas? Who cooks, who decorates the house, who dresses up as Santa?

Holiday Hijinks, Angst Edition

Hi @thesere1418!

Thanks so much for your question! Let’s have some holiday fun.

Right off the bat I’m going to divide this into ‘pre-treasure hunt’ and ‘post-treasure hunt’ Christmases, because they’ll look very different and I think the contrast will be useful and full of angst, muahaha.

What follows is 100% pure headcanon and conjecture. I have no source for any of this other than I feel like it : )

A Pre-Treasure Christmas

I think it’s important that we start here because before the events of National Treasure, our four heroes are all living isolated, solitary lives to varying degrees.

Angst & headcanons ↓

Ben

Ben spends his pre-treasure hunt Christmases, well, treasure hunting. I imagine that the holidays don’t factor much into the way he lives his life. He pours over books and old archive records for hours and days at a time. He eats frozen meals and fast food, takeout when he can afford it. He’s not one to decorate his apartment, because he’s not home that often. He can spend weeks at a time away on salvage dives, or off in New York or Boston or Paris searching for Charlotte’s whereabouts. If he is at home, he might have one or two sentimental decorations that belonged to his grandfather that he’ll put out. The remind Ben of early Christmases as John’s house.

At some point over the holidays Ben has to visit his mother. Emily seems like the kind of person who puts on a classy Christmas party, maybe not on the day itself, but sometimes around it. She has her professor friends over for wine and an a delightfully pretentious selection of cheeses. It’s a great time, if you like parties that come with their own subscription to The New Yorker. Ben is always invited and he has two options: attend and know that every other guest thinks he’s a crackpot, or disappoint his mother. Neither is great. Sometimes he’s conveniently out of the country. Sometimes he toughs it out. If he can, Ben visits her on the actual holiday instead. Then it’s just a quiet dinner with a few close friends and the guy she’s seeing, if there is one. If he’s out of the country he always calls.

On Christmas itself—or maybe Christmas Eve. Ben feels like a Christmas Eve person to me—he puts on an old record and splurges on some real takeout, Chinese or Thai. It’s that and a beer and another late, lonely night reading through ship manifests and learning about arctic weather patterns.

If you live in a world where Book of Secrets does not exists, then Ben’s mother probably hangs over the holiday like a fondly remembered ghost. He was quite young when she died, but the memories he has of her are dear to him, as are the traditions that come with them. If she made the best fruit cake in town, then Ben finds himself wandering into the bakery or that one and sampling the wares, never finding one that tastes quite the way he remembers it. If she had a favorite decoration, maybe a ceramic angel tree topper with delicate lace wings, Ben always finds a prominent place to display it, even if it’s the only thing he puts out.

What about being “cavalier in [his] personal life,” you say? Never a Christmas girlfriend? Sure, maybe once or twice. But Christmas with the family is a big step, one I think Ben would be reticent to take. Although he’s apparently going around telling at least two “someones” that he loves them, I think deep down Ben knows none of these relationships are as important as his one true love, Charlotte and the Templar treasure. He tries his best to get out of it. If he can’t, well, I imagine he’s his usual completely normal self and I’m sure that’s a big hit with some unsuspecting family.

Abigail

Abigail’s pre-treasure Christmas is the least isolated of any of them, but she might rather trade with Ben honestly. Her holidays start by suffering through the office Christmas party. Stan has too much eggnog and hits on her while her assistant does her best to run interference, and Abigail pretends to like coworkers she barely knows during an awkward secret santa. Then, after a brief stop at home to change and collect her already meticulously packed suitcase and meticulously wrapped gifts, its time to drive to wherever her family lives. I’m feeling Connecticut. So she drives to CT to her favorite Christmas jazz CD. She likes the quiet hours in the car.

Then the Christmas chaos sets it. I don’t imagine Abigail comes from an especially large family, it’s her mother and step-father, her brother, his wife, and her two grade-school-age nephews. I also headcanon that she has an older sister who moved back to Germany, but more on that some other time. Abigail arrives a day or two early to help with the preparations, and that’s one of her favorite parts. She and her mother make Lebkuchen (German spiced Christmas cookies) and other family recipes, as well as prepare a fish dinner for Christmas Eve and a roast duck or goose for Christmas Day.

The Chase family partakes in the German tradition of decorating the tree on Christmas Eve. This wasn't a huge part of their Christmas before they moved, but after they moved to the States it became an important way to stay connected to their roots.

Other favorite activities of hers include playing games with her nephews. She got them into go a few years ago, but Abigail is also surprisingly competent at Mario Cart.

But there’s also the comments about whether she’s seeing anyone, and the questions that make it clear that her family doesn’t understand what she does for work or why. She loves her brother and his kids and she’s always grateful to be home, but it’s also very clear to her, between the lines, that her family thinks her life is too small. When the noise and the people get to be too much, she escapes to the kitchen to work on the endless pile of dishes.

Riley

Riley, Riley, Riley. My problem child. Who are you??

Riley seems like he comes from a big-ish family, let’s say four kids, and he’s second youngest. Maybe it’s the way he seems to roll with the punches. We’re breaking into the National Archives? Sure, fine. I can’t stop you, so let me get my laser.

There’s also a good chance that he’s Jewish. Justin Bartha is Jewish, and Riley does say “Mazel Tov” to Ben when Ben says he looks alright for the gala. For the sake of this post let’s say that Riley is from a mixed family that celebrates both traditions. But if you have a take on how Judaism informs Riley’s character, I want to hear it!

Before meeting Ben, Riley worked at a dead-end office job (at IBM, according to the 2003 script). I imagine he was pretty low in the office hierarchy if a probably-fruitless, dangerous treasure hunt seemed like an appealing alternative. Otherwise he’d keep toiling away in a sea of gray cubicles, underpaid and under appreciated. The thing about offices is that when the holidays arrive, the people leave but the problems keep coming. And when you’re know as That-Guy-Who-Can-Solve-My-Problem, you get stuck with the problem. So as Riley’s coworkers and colleagues start to head out on vacation, more and more problems pile up on his desk. His nights get later, and on the last work day before the holiday, his is the last light on.

When all the workplace fires are finally put out, Riley stuffs the presents for his nieces and nephews into his clunker of a sedan and heads for the family home in…Florida? Michigan? My gut says it’s not one of the original 13 colonies, based on how geographic symbolism tends to work in the National Treasure-verse. (Riley listens to metal in the car. He gets sick of Christmas music by November.)

The celebration is at his aunt and uncle’s house, on his dad’s side. By the time he gets there, the house is capital C Chaotic. His cousins and most of his siblings have kids, so there’s a whole flock of nieces and nephews running amuck (and Riley is only too happy to join them). His dad and his sister are bickering over the best technique for cooking the roast. His sister and his brother-in-law are having a heated debate over who knows what. And his other sister—that’s right, I’ve decided he has all sisters—is trying mediate a spat between some of the kids.

Uncle Riley is a big hit with the kids. He’s cool. He’s techy. He always knows the latest video games and can troubleshoot any problem with their GameCube. With the adults…not so much. Riley was a bit of a late bloomer career-wise. He might have stayed in his parents’ basement for a year or two after college. He’s obviously incredibly smart, but he never applies himself to what he’s “supposed to.” Also please stop telling our kids that Bigfoot is real and the moon landing was fake, thank you.

Once he’s through with that and back in his broom closet of an apartment, Riley has a second holiday gathering, this time with his online squad. Riley has to be part of some online groups. Hackers. Conspiracy theorists. Random internet weirdos. Maybe they play D&D together, or swap code or challenge each other to hack into places they shouldn’t just to see if it can be done. In a lot of ways, Riley feels more at home with these usernames on a black background than he does with the family he grew up in.

Patrick

Any way you slice it, Patrick is having a pretty sad Christmas. He’s estranged from his only son. His wife either died thirty years ago or hasn’t spoken to him in thirty years. Either way, his belief that she was his “one and only” means he isn’t seeing anyone, and it appears he has no siblings, so he probably doesn’t have much in the way of family plans. Maybe he has a friend or two who invite him to their family gatherings. Patrick always says he’ll try to swing by, but he knows he won’t. He doesn’t want to intrude, and he has no interest in pity invites.

In the week leading up to Christmas, Patrick’s poker club meets for their holiday game. There’s eggnog and music in the background and enthusiastic discussions of everyone’s holiday plans. Maybe they even tried a secret santa once or twice. It’s a fun little time, but it’s not Christmas.

Christmas for Patrick Gates is a pre-ordered meal and a glass of whisky and an old record on the record player, alone in that big old house.

Conclusion

Okay! Have I broken your heart yet?

Sorry for the angst, but the contrast is going to be important!

This was actually a great opportunity to reflect on what Team Treasure’s lives were like before the events of the film. It highlighted for me just how lonely and isolated they each were, and how something was missing from their lives even if they didn’t know it at the time.

Of course, I’m making most of this up whole-cloth, so feel free to disagree with everything! What do you thing their families and family holidays were like?

This year, the holiday lead-up has been really hectic for me, but this question helped me get into the holiday spirit a bit and think more about my own Christmas traditions as well as the characters.’

Next time, I will answer you actual question about post-treasure Christmas!

I am trying so, so hard to have it ready by Christmas, fingers crossed.

[eiswolfzero]

Hullo, same anonymous who talked about the pillars here

I haven't found any indication of inspired ponies for the other pillars but I just wanted to give you a summary of each of them and their overall story (cause I love to talk about those ancient guys) :

-Starswirl the bearded (who has multiples namesake) : most of him is known in previous seasons (incredible sorcerer, inventor of spells, banisher of the sirens, ...) but what is learned after is that he is also what we commonly call a : JERK. He doesn't understand friendship, is very very self-righteous and serious, doesn't hesitate to treat Twilight as an idiot after she freed him and the others from limbo (because it also freed Stygian in his pony of shadows mood), ... Though after learning he was an idiot and pushed Stygian to villainy by not giving him a chance to explain himself, he becomes better and explores Equestria to learn friendship (and gets scammed once). I looked at the four different namesakes he had and we have pretty much : G1 - mare earth- part of a set, followed a rainbow to see where it gots its colors, found a lake with her friends, dove in and got pretty swirls. (No media appearance) G2 - Princess Magic Starswirl, a earth pony mare with a magic amulet that changes colors, can become an "angel" and get wings. (No media appearance) G3 - Earth pony mare, she stays up late to watch stars far past other ponies (Luna would have loved her) and is ready for adventures day or night (Cameo in comics) G4 - here there are multiples so : -Toy Starswirl : no information as she was a bonus edition pony put with Rarity's carriage -Comic Starswirl (before season 7) : all white, he was pretty much a sillier (and nicer) version of the Starswirl of the series. He litterally had a song battle with the sirens and was a goofball. (Haven't read all the comics so yeah) -Somnambula : she is an optimistic pegasus (element of hope), her tale can be summarized in : There was a big scary sphynx who took the crops from the people. The pharaoh went to it like "stop taking our food", the sphynx refuses and kidnapps him. Somnambula goes "give him back!". The sphynx gives a riddle and is a very bad sport when Somnambula guess right. Somnambula tells the sphynx to do an "all-or-nothing" turn but it has to gtfo if she wins. She is forced to traverse above a pool of weird green goo with her wings tied behind her back and a blindfold, she manages to do it and the sphynx gtfo. After arriving in modern Equestria, she takes care of a yoga-type meditation class (in her home country, if I remember well?). G1-Somnambula is a human sorceress who stole ponies youth to stay young/becomes more powerful. Kinda wonder what she would do as a young pegasus mare :vc

-Meadowbrook : Meadowbrook is a earth-pony mare healer (and not a eastern unicorn as said in Starlight debut). Her tale can be summarized in disease change people in trees, her mom catches it. Meadowbrook searches a remedy and finally realize than flash-bees can polinate the flowers causing the disease, so she tries and steal their honey. It goes wrong until she puts on her healing mask, which kinda looks like a flash-bee queen. She heals everypony and all is well. Once in modern era, she goes back to her old home and makes shop there, healing and making remedies there with a descendant (I think?). G1 Meadowbrook loves all flowers and lives in Ponyville, she makes them grow and bloom in her greenhouse and sells them. When people buys her treats, she always adds a flower in their basket and can't decide on a favorite flower. (No media appearances) -Rockhoof : Rockhoof is a earth stallion who was very small and weak and wanted to be part of the Mighty Helm, but he was too weak. He trained with a shovel. The volcano on his town island erupted and he decided to dig a trench to get the magma in the water and not in town, he wasn't going to have enough time as he was alone doing that. But by the power of the shovel, he got very strong and buff, did the trench and saving his home in the process. In the modern era, he got an existential crisis when he realized than there wasn't a lot asked of him with his shovel, failed to get a job multiple times, made a few catastrophes and asked to be changed in stone until Yona proved once more to be best yack and convinced him he was very good at stories, so he got the role of "Keeper of tales" (or something similar sounding).

Flash Magnus : Pegasus soldier of the I-don't-remember-the-name army (maybe just pegasi army?), his tale is the one I remember the less, but pretty much, pegasi vs dragon. Pegasi are caught and about to become grilled chiken, Flash takes his shield and tank dragon fire. I prefer his secondary tale in the comics where a tornado rolls toward a griffons town, the griffons-soldier are like "we can deal with it", Flash superior is like "they are jerk, they can deal with it" and the poor griffon-citizen are like :( . The tornado is about to hit the town as the griffon-soldier can't deal with it and Flash goes "fuck this shit I'm out" and saves griffons and other soldiers follow his lead to save citizens. In the futur, he is part of Equestria's army.

Mistmane : An eastern unicorn, you have seen her tale and I'm already doing a very bad job of summarizing. In the modern era she grows crystal flowers in the crystal empire. Stygian : Pretty much, small weak unicorn lives in a town. The town is attacked by sirens, he likes tales so he figures "hey let's travel all of Equestria to gets my six favorites on a team and save my town". He does it, the team stays together for a while but he feels put aside after a remark than he "brings nothing on the team" (accidentally said by Starswirl when he tried to figure out his virtue and Stygian is like : idk man, I'm not a hero (has litterally done a hero's quest but he is a dumbass)). So he decides to copy his friends stuff to become a hero too, he goes to Ponehedge, Starswirl thinks he was trying to steal their power and he doesn't manage to explain himself and decides to play friend with a shadow (bad idea). The Pony Of Shadows is normally OP so the pillars decides to seal themselves and him in limbo to never comeback. Thanks to a double-friendship laser, he begins to separate from the shadow, Twilight jumps in like "wtf there is somepony here", he explains not wanting to steal the artifacts, the pillars are surprised-pikachu-face, Twilight drags him out and bam, shadow in limbo. In the modern era, Stygian writes a trilogy on his story and it is a bestseller, and we never see him again in person after his finale, we just see him on the cover of his book when Rockhoof is being depressed than he is the only one not finding a purpose. (Was forgetting, there are loads of jokes about Stygian being a recycled second Luna with the whole "feeling underappreciated and became a vengeful shadow pony who just needed a big hug") So yeah, that means than this team is pretty much : ancient wizard (who may or may not turn into a young mare with no magic or a sillier version of himself (wonder which one is the creepier :vc)), a nice positiv girl (who may or may not turn into a villain), an healer (who may lose her healing ability and instead be like "ooooh flower !!!! :D"), a pony who has already had preeeeeetty depressive thoughts cause he felt useless, another pony who did dumb things cause he felt useless but has communication issues on top of it, an old mare and a soldier. And I forgot, they have no idea of who will change/transform, why or how. Sorry I very much failed to summarize-summarize, but I'm feeling to lazy to try and shorten the whole thing x'D

Pillar Anon! Welcome back and with so much information too heh. Fair warning for others: Long Post/Long ask

Very interesting stuff! I remember seeing the Pony of Shadows and Stygian before, but I can't tell if it was Fanart or official stuff. maybe the episode? Can't say haha

But I didn't know the whole story around it, they really went and did something Epic with all of them! Meadowbrook sounds very intersting. If she were not to turn she might be rather good at trying to help find a cure I'd say, no? But yeah, the fear of turning yourself. Of not knowing if you're the next after everything they went through. They might just...not xD

[astriiformes]

minnesota gang <3 id love to hear your thoughts on living here as someone from out of state, if u wanna share!

Of course -- I always enjoy when other people get excited about my Minnesota blogging, haha.

For context I grew up in Arizona and then Colorado, and spent a fair bit of time in both Oregon and California visiting family, so I am very much from the west. Minnesota's been an interesting place to end up because of the ways it does/doesn't overlap with it. Like, I deeply, deeply miss the mountains, which are the part of the country that truly has my heart, but I've come to love a lot of the nature here as well, particularly the fact that the Twin Cities have a much healthier relationship with natural spaces than a lot of other urban areas. Just today a friend and I were walking on a bridge across the Mississippi and stopped midway to look out over it for a while. I love that there are city parks with waterfalls here, and that it's not uncommon to see eagles in and around the lakes, and that I've found fossils and geocaches clambering down steep gorges along the river. It's nice.

(And I especially love the nature up north, even though I've only been a few times -- Lake Superior is awe-inspiring, the glacial geology here is fascinating to me as someone who loves the natural sciences, hopping across the stepping stones at the mouth of the Mississippi up at Itasca is kind of mind-boggling, the trees up there feel a lot more like home, and as a certified Wolf Guy, learning that Minnesota is home to more wolves than anywhere in the contiguous "west" has genuinely delighted me.)

But I've also just loved the community I've found here. A large part of the reason I left Colorado was because Denver was just too expensive for me to consider (I was living with my family, in a suburb outside the city that was really stifling and lonely), and I really thought a lot of the places I could find real belonging would have too high a price tag, which I think is a common fear for queer folks who have mostly heard about big eastern and western cities as safe havens. The Twin Cities have given me everything I wanted in that regard. I have so many queer friends here, some of whom are more like family at this point, have regularly had coworkers like me and even had one job where I was encouraged to be fairly loudly out (and got to do some neat outreach as a result), and these days in particular am counstantly counting myself lucky to live in a state fighting for the rights of its transgender population.

And I've found community in other ways, too! There's a really vibrant, creative geek scene here, that's hung onto more of its old-school fandom roots -- probably my favorite convention anywhere is right here in Minneapolis (CONvergence), and there's a wonderful filk community in the area. I love, love, love my very queer, very social justice-oriented synagogue and that there are interesting Jewish community events going on with some frequency (and that I've even found a great deli to buy hamantaschen at every Purim!). And man. 2020 was a hard year here, but I'm going to remember the ways my neighbors and I stepped up for each other for the rest of my life. When the rest of the country was acting like our cities had burned to the ground, I felt like I was seeing the best of humanity from so many of the people around me. There were a couple days my qpp and I drove around just... taking pictures of all the art that had sprung up around the Cities, and on the boarded windows we knew would be taken down, because people had made them blossom with color and rebellion and love while they were up.

All told, there's a lot of neat things here. There's a lot of problems, too, but it's not hard to look around and see people fighting to solve them -- and in the meantime, there's plenty of joy and community to cling to. I've been fortunate enough to live in a few different parts of the country and have fallen in love with each of them in their own way, but Minnesota took me by surprise. I always thought of it as one of the quieter, more boring Midwestern states and I'm glad to have learned otherwise.

(I am also a cold weather guy through and through, despite my desert roots, so the winters treat me just fine, ha. The camaraderie through the blizzards and below-zero temperatures is another very real part of the state's charm.)

[plasticfangtastic]

Do you like living in Australia? How was living in Venezuela (if I’m getting that right)?

Been here for almost 15 years and am still barely used to the weather. The summers still get to me bcuz they r so dry ans i mean humans arent meant to survive 35 to 38 degrees celcius. Trust me 38 degrees its a crime and makes u wanna vomit just being in your own skin.

I like it here and i live in the most boring city in the country so its safe and quiet and everything is so far away but then again this state could fit my whole country in without a problem so its expected and you get used to travelling 1 hr to get fancy ice cream or just go anywhere. I only been to melbourne and sydney and they are nice cities but Adelaide is so much better even if its small and boring... at least the transport system makes sense and isnt overpriced like in sydney.

I think maybe in 10 yrs i could see myself moving to another state or overseas but who knows.

Venezuela was a bit of a blur i moved here after turning 15 but my memory its spotty but i remember it being a very beautiful and busy, i lived in Maracay so it was a big busy city, but i grew up during Chavez dictatorship...so i basically saw my country deteriorate as time went by and while i didnt want to come to australia and didnt understood why we were moving... i understood with due time as the economy did collapse after we left in 2010.

My family was lower middle class so we werent having a horrible time but not a great time either... i do remember the schedule and not schedule blackouts and my shower being occupied by massive water barrels holding our bathing water bcuz god knows when they were gonna cut the water and for how long, or my parent arguing about bills and money-- we always had food but luxuries and travelling were off the table. My dad had it hard as he grew up in the US so he moved to Venezuela back when it was booming and great, so he was eager to leave but not as much as my mom.

I do miss the food and the mountains...but specially the mountains and trees... SA its so flat.

Sometimes i do wonder what would have happened if we moved to Canada as it was intended or the US had my grandpa and my mum werent opposed to it... mom thought the US was ugly and unsafe which is funny considering she grew up in Petare and one of her cousins is/was a suspected serial killer.

[daisywords]

❤️ Happy WorldBuilding Wednesday! ❤️

What are your cities or towns like? Feel free to talk about the layouts or the people or the architecture, etc. and to talk about more than one if you'd like!

ok so a significant portion of DaDBaB takes place in the city of Andalor* which is the capital city of the world-encompassing empire.

It's got a canal system that kind of separates the city into different neighborhoods (imagine boat traffic on main throughways but you can't get everywhere by canal). It's not directly coastal, but sits on a large estuary/bay (so like Seattle or Washington D.C. or Buenos Aires).

Kind of a temperate rainforest climate, so lots of rain and doesn't have very cold winters or hot summers. Lots of ferns and small ornamental trees in the nicer areas. Imagine lots of white limestone buildings in the downtown/center. An assortment of different architectural styles/materials as the city kind of sprawls out away from the older center/away from the water (This is by far not the biggest or oldest city in the world, but it is big and it is old).

It's also very diverse. Being the capital and fairly central geographically and also very accessible by ship or road or train. The current imperial family is Firanese, and Andalor is technically on the very south end of Firaney, so we get a lot of that influence aesthetically and culturally (think southwestern europe ISH) but population wise more of the people are actually Taqa (which tracks bc Jura Taq is the most populous country and the birthplace of our empire's lingua franca). But anyway the city kind of has it's own distinct culture/identity separate from the region like most people from there just think of themselves as Andalor natives rather than being Firanese or anything.

Andalor was a religious center before it was a political one, so its centerpiece is a very large temple (that I have yet to give a proper name oops) that is basically a bunch of concentric rings. When the empire moved back a few generations ago, they vacated everything on the hill opposite the temple to build the new seat of the highking/the central government etc. The issue is that it's seen as impious to build anything that takes up more space/land area-wise than the temple, so in order to build something large and grand enough, they had to get creative. Which is why we have a grand feat of architecture and engineering that is slightly smaller than the temple in terms of square-footage (on the ground floor) and is. very tall. (don't think skyscraper bc remember this thing is plenty wide also)

Anyway and that's where Lya lives as a permanent guest of the highking. (On the ninth floor but do not worry—elevators were literally invented for this building)

*all names in this draft are the product of me winging it completely and are subject to change

[purplesurveys]

1683

Do you have the right time set on your microwave?: Our microwave doesn’t include the time on it.

Do you have any old newspaper articles? Why?: No, my family has never been the type to buy newspapers. This reminds me that there used to be a nice old man who used to stand by the entrance of our village, ready to sell newspapers to the cars who drive out every morning. He’s stopped appearing for what’s probably been 2, 3 years now :( I hope he’s still out there and keeping healthy.

Do you have a flat screen tv or just a regular box?: We mostly have flat screens now but the one in our dining room is a much older, box-type TV just because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. We only ever turn it on when my dad is home because he likes having the evening news on when we have dinner.

Do you have a radar detector for your car?: A...what? I don’t even know what that is haha. I have a dashcam and that’s it.

Have you ever been arrested? For what?: Nope.

Do you know how to change the oil in your car?: Nope. I let my dad do all the maintenance work on my car as he prefers to do it anyway.

Have you taken your shower yet?: I did this morning since I had to drive to work.

Do you like Tootsie Rolls?: I don’t think I’ve ever had one, actually.

Do you have a printer? What kind?: No. We used to have one, but when it started malfunctioning we didn’t feel the need to get a new one since we were reaching that point where no one in the family needed to print stuff constantly anymore.

Are you seeing anybody currently?: Nope.

Do you or have you ever smoked cigarettes?: I have, but I never look for them. I’ll probably be doing so in Thailand, though, since apparently vapes are illegal.

Do you like it when it snows?: I have never experienced snow.

Are your ears pierced?: Yes. Weirdly enough they never closed even though I haven’t worn a pair in 15 years.

Where do you do most of your shopping?: I find shopping so tiring LOL so I do it all online. Shopee or Zalora are my usuals.

Who do you live with?: My family.

What is your most expensive bill?: I’m not required to pay bills but I do hand over a sum to my parents every payday, which is usually my biggest monthly ‘expense,’ if anything.

Do you have a big yard?: I mean it’s not acres-level of big but it is very comfortable for a family of 5.

Do you live in the country or the city?: City.

Do you sleep alone or with someone every night?: Alone.

Did you have a treehouse as a child?: I didn’t. Children’s shows made me want one, but I quickly realized it wasn’t possible because we didn’t even have a tree big and sturdy enough for one.

At what age did you obtain your driver license?: 18.

Do you look in the newspaper for coupons?: Nope. I haven’t opened a newspaper since college and I don’t think ours have coupons either?

Did you get a big tax refund from last year?: No. It was like...literally ₱29, which is apparently more or less 50 cents.

Do you like Slim Jim’s?: That’s the beef jerky, right? The things I learn from wrestling and their brand sponsorships, lmao...anyway, no. Idek what beef jerky is.

Is there someone you would love to punch right now?: Not really.

Did you grow up fast?: Yes, because my childhood home wasn’t the ideal environment for a kid to live in. My mom also never really knew how to...deal with kids, and communicate in a way a child could understand, so I remember being 5 and hyperventilating about the thought of my mom disowning me or spanking me or not talking to me for a week because of little accidents at home. By 9 or 10 I was pretty jaded, and it made me become a nightmare of a child for a while.

What are you favorite kind of chips?: Baked chips in cheese flavor :) Oh and salted egg chips!!

Have you taken any medicine recently? For what?: Nah.

What have you eaten today?: We had leftover lechon manok that my dad kind of reimagined and remade to be some sort of kimchi roasted chicken. It was very delicious.

Did you or are you going to wash your hair today?: I did this morning when I took a shower.

Does the water in your shower take a long time to get warm?: Not at all! It gets all warm and toasty in around 10-15 seconds.

Where did you go today?: I was at the office for most of today.

Are you sleepy right now?: Not particularly but I know I should be going to bed so I can *start* to feel sleepy. It’s past midnight and I’ve still got work tomorrow.

What color is your mousepad?: I don’t use a mouse.

Should you be doing something else at the moment?: Yes - preparing for bed.

Do you like your neighbors?: I don’t know them at all, so I have nothing to say, really. None of them irritate me though.

Do you have bedroom shoes?: Continued from the other night. Technically I have a couple of fluffy slippers I can use around the house but I keep forgetting to use them. When you’ve walked barefoot indoors your entire life it’s easy to forget about the existence of indoor slippers hahaha.

Do you get your eyebrows waxed?: No, I generally don’t care for maintaining my eyebrows. You do you, but I just feel like it’s such a minor, forgettable thing to get invested on.

Has anyone given you flowers recently?: Nope.

Do you work Monday thru Friday?: Yup.

Is there anything you are looking forward to tomorrow?: I’m finally going back to the salon and having my hair dyed to purple just in time for my trip next week.

How many miles does your car have on it?: Ooh I haven’t really paid much attention to it recently actually. I wanna say anywhere around 40-45k? I remember it being 30k when I was in college and just before the pandemic so that’s probably a good guesstimate.

Is your alarm clock set to radio or beep?: I don’t set an alarm. It stresses me out and I’m able to wake up early on my own anyway.

Do you like to go fishing?: I’ve never gone fishing; don’t see the appeal.

Has anyone you know been arrested recently?: Well, no.

Do you have more than 1 email address?: Yeah I have a handful.

Do you think you will have the same job 2 years from now?: I’ve reached a point where it’s pretty hard to tell, honestly. Two years is a big stretch of time and what else in the company can I achieve within that period, anyway? I’d hate to be in the immediate next position, and the position after that since both already start dealing with business development, and I never want to part from a writing-based job. Suffice it to say I need to have a rethink about what I want to do next.

Do you have central heating and air?: No, that’s not a thing here and you’ll 100% only find that in the neighborhoods of the super rich old money families.

Do you speed while driving?: I probably do but I don’t think speeding is taken all that seriously around here since I’ve never seen anyone get pulled over and fined for doing so.

Is there someplace you would rather be right now?: Ugh I would love to be in Bangkok right now. Just around 5 days to go!

Did you build the computer you are using?: No and I’d never be able to do that.

Do you have good computer speakers?: It’s pretty standard but I’ve used newer Macs (like my current work laptop) with much better speakers. I’m just lucky mine haven’t even blown out yet, because I know friends with newer Mac models but their speakers have completely fucked up on them.

Are you waiting on anything at the moment?: Yeah I filed a reimbursement request at work earlier this week and I really need that money to come in before Bangkok lol.

Where is your favorite person?: I don’t have one.

Do you keep track of your debit purchases?: As much as possible I never ever use my card directly to pay because I don’t want to end up a crazy spender.

Do you ever shop at Harris Teeter? I’ve never even heard of that before.

Do you like to burn incense?: No and I don’t like how incense smells so you’ll probably never catch me doing so.

Are there any plants in your house?: Sure, there are a few.

How long does it take you to get to work?: 20-30 minutes if no traffic; around 45 minutes to an hour if there is.

[notanotherinfjblog]

Do you think and if so why do you think INFJs often have difficulty listing steps for how to do an activity but can do the activity nonetheless? People with high Si seem to need all the steps to do the activity.

Hi anon! :)

Honestly, I think it might be related to Ni just being a very subconscious function. Ni needs the end point to fixate on and the rest falls into place by some mechanisms that we have no conscious control over. I'm not sure what kind of activity you're referring to, but I guess the level of complexity of an activity doesn't really matter as it's the same anyway, so let me give you an example. I remember how we did high jumping in PE class back in school and we were taught all the individual steps. How many steps you need to run before jumping, which foot to start running with, how to bend your back when jumping over the bar etc. Our teacher filmed us jumping over the bar to point out the mistakes in our technique afterwards and to tell us what to look out for and what to do differently. And I remember how strange it felt to watch myself on camera jumping over that thing because I wasn't there when I did it. Or that's what it felt like. For every jump, I lost consciousness the moment that I started taking the first step. Not in the sense that I fainted, my body did all the work as it was supposed to. My teacher even pointed out when I incorporated her advice into my next jump and did it better. But I had no clue how because not a single piece of sensory information had reached my consciousness during the entire process. It wasn't just sensory deprivation, it was sensory elimination. I didn't see or hear or feel anything. My body locked out my consciousness and only allowed it back in when I was already lying on my back on the mat after the jump. I've talked about this experience with several people of all kinds of MBTI types and unsurprisingly, the only one who didn't find it insane and utterly weird was an INTJ.

And if we extrapolate from this less complex activity of high jumping to more complex activities like baking a cake or writing a book etc., it's the same process, I think. Dominant Ni fixates on the end goal and just starts walking towards it, while the subconscious takes care of the rest, i.e. (if we keep this metaphor) the conscious mind is all eyes for the end of the road and nothing else reaches them, but the body automatically makes sure to stay on the path, to not walk into a tree, to go around the puddle, to stay hydrated etc., while the conscious mind stays blind to it all. And then the Ni-dom reaches the end of the road, looks back and wonders how the hell they got there. In fact, I always think that having a detailed plan I have to consciously follow holds me back immensely. You know how teachers often tell you to use this specific method to do stuff like writing an essay to give you a framework of individual steps like a common thread to follow. I don't know a single NJ that can work like that.

An SJ's mind is much more conscious of what they're doing and what they need to do. I always think it's funny when MBTI circles describe Ni as the future function and Si as the past function with NJs having detailed plans about the future, while the SJs live in the past because that's not what the functions are. Yes, Ni is oriented towards the future and yes, Si likes to keep their memories close, but the rigorous planners that watch out for every eventuality and make a detailed plan of every single step are the SJs, like you said. They need to prepare and they need it to go to plan. Some are more relaxed about it than others, sure, but before they do anything, they start making a mental list of all the individual steps. For instance, my mother is an ESFJ and every summer that I visit her, we make a day trip through the whole country (it's not that big) just following our noses. Despite the whole idea being "that road looks pretty, let's drive that way" and "I wonder what it looks like on top of that hill, let's try to find a way up there", she still makes a detailed list, a plan of action for everything and when we hit a dead end that cancels her plan, panic ensues. And when we get home, she can tell you everything about our trip in ridiculous detail, while all I remember is a general vibe and that the view was nice. To me, as non-Si-user, it always feels like she needs to make a detailed plan in order to know how to catalogue all of her memories so that she knows where to find them again. Memories are extremely important to her. She says, whenever she's had a bad day, she searches for a happy memory and relives it again and that makes her feel better. As an Ni-dom, memories are not that important and I don't need to catalogue them, so I'm more free to live in my mind and in the moment and not worry about the steps of a plan. My subconscious and my body will take care of them.

[themuseandantarctica]

* 𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒑𝒕. 35

change however necessary.

“Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.”

“Anyone who hasn’t experienced the ecstasy of betrayal knows nothing about ecstasy at all.”

“A woman’s best love letters are always written to the man she is betraying.”

“All men should have a drop of treason in their veins, if nations are not to go soft like so many sleepy pears.”

“If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.”

“In politics, it is necessary either to betray one’s country or the electorate.  I prefer to betray the electorate.”

“Corporations cannot commit treason, or be outlawed or excommunicated, for they have no souls.”

“The best way to keep your friends is not to give them away.”

“Except during the nine months before he draws his first breath, no man manages his affairs as well as a tree does.”

“The wonder is that we can see these trees and not wonder more.”

“The clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness.”

“For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold or silver.”

“As the poet said, ‘Only God can make a tree’—probably because it’s so hard to figure out how to get the bark on.”

“Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky, we fell them down and turn them into paper, that we may record our emptiness.”

“Trees are much like human beings and enjoy each other’s company.  Only a few love to be alone.”

“Trees cause more pollution than automobiles.”

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in the way.  As a man is, so he sees.”

“The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago, the second best time is now.”

“The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.”

“The planting of trees is the least self-centered of all that we can do. It is a purer act of faith than the procreation of children.”

“When eating a fruit, think of the person who planted the tree.”

“The axe forgets what the tree remembers.”

“No tree falls on the first stroke.”

“When a tree is falling, everyone cries, down with it!”

“When the big tree falls, the goat eats its leaves.”

“From a fallen tree, all make kindling.”

“When the axe came into the forest the trees all said, ‘Well, at least the handle is one of us.’”

“In a moment the ashes are made, but the forest is a long time growing.”

“Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names streets after them.”

“I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things to do.”

“Nobody, as long as moves about among the chaotic currents of life, is without trouble.”

“If you will call your troubles experiences, and remember that everybody experience develops some latent force within you, you will grow vigorous and happy, however adverse your circumstances may seem to be.”

“She would take any amount of trouble to avoid trouble.”

“That’s what stoicism is: the avoidance of bother when bother’s the other option.”

“Few things help an individual more than to place responsibility upon him and to let him know that you trust him.”

“Put not your trust in money, but put your money in trust.”

“Never trust a man who speaks well of everybody.”

“Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea-cozy, doesn’t try it on.”

“Nothing is too wonderful to be true.”

“The Truth shall make you free.”

“Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.”

“There is nothing more likely to drive a man mad than an obstinate, constitutional preference for the true to the agreeable.”

“Truth is for the minority.”

“Never tell the truth to those unworthy of it.”

“There are no whole truths; all truths are half-truths.  It is trying to treat them as whole truths that plays the devil.”

“Truth is eternal, knowledge is changeable.  It is a disastrous to confuse them.”

“One must explore deep and believe the incredible to find the new particles of truth floating in an ocean of insignificance.”

“As scarce as the truth is, the supply has always been in excess of the demand.”

“The exact contrary of what is generally believed is often the truth.”

“In war, Truth is the first casualty.”

“Whoever undertakes to set himself up as a judge of Truth and Knowledge is shipwrecked by the laughter of the Gods.”

“No man is likely to have arrived at complete and final truth on any subject whatsoever.”

“Truth always originates in a minority of one, and every custom begins as a broken precedent.”

“The high-minded man must care more for the truth than for what people think.”

“Truth is the daughter of search.”

“Truth is a woman.  One must not use force with her.”

“The smallest atom of truth represents some man’s bitter toil and agony. For every ponderable chunk of it there is a brave truth-seeker’s grave upon some lonely ash-dump of a soul roasting in hell.”

“No pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the vantage-ground of truth.”

“None attains to the Degree of Truth until a thousand honest people have testified that he is a heretic.”

“Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of men of old; seek what they sought.”

“There is nothing so powerful as truth—and often nothing so strange.”

“Why shouldn’t truth be stranger than fiction?  Fiction, after all, has to make sense.”

“There is no a priori reason for supposing that the truth, when it is discovered, will necessarily prove interesting.”

“Give me fruitful error any time, full of seeds, bursting with its own corrections.  You can keep your sterile truth for yourself.”

“All truth passes through three stages.  First, it is ridiculed.  Second, it is violently opposed.  Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.”

“Truth is the daughter of time, not of authority.”

“The terrible thing about the quest for truth is that you find it.”

“Follow not truth too near the heels, lest it dash out thy teeth.”

“Ugliness is in a way superior to beauty because it lasts.”

“Ugliness is a point of view: an ulcer is wonderful to a pathologist.”

“I hate ugliness.  You know I’m allergic to ugliness.”

“I never saw an ugly thing in my life.”

“I do not feel I have wisdom enough yet to love what is ugly.”

“There is no such thing as an ugly woman.  However, there is such a thing as not enough vodka.”

“I am a lone monk walking the world with a leaky umbrella.”

“All men are equal—all men, that is to say, who possess umbrellas.”

“He was so benevolent, so merciful a man that, in his mistaken passion, he would have held an umbrella over a duck in a shower of rain.”

“My goal is simple.  It is a complete understanding of the universe, why it is as it is and why it exists at all.”

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.”

“All those who do not understand will be damned.”

“The hardest thing in the world to understand is the income tax.”

“The hardest thing to understand is why we can understand anything at all.”

“If one is master of one thing and understands one thing well, one has insight into and understanding of many things.”

“When I have clarified and exhausted a subject, then I turn away from it, in order to go into darkness again.”

“Only one man ever understood me, and he didn’t understand me.”

“In the beginning the Universe was created.  This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

“If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.”

“Why does the universe go to all the bother of existing?”

“The effort to understand the universe is one of the very few things that lifts human life a little above the level of farce, and gives it some of the grace of tragedy.”

“Every grain of sand, every tip of a leaf, even an atom, contains the entire universe.  Conversely, the universe can be perceived as the tip of a leaf.”

“Not I but the world says it: All is one.”

[sleepyowlwrites]

Sleepy, I figured out two things today: how to leave comments on Docs Mobile and that Docs is a fun thing to do on the subway.

Years and years ago, I moved to the city for work. I started off doing an internship just a few blocks from NYU, then landed a job at an indie northward. The summer that all started was, well. Not perfect, but I remember the long subway rides. It takes a half an hour minimum to get anywhere in the city—long stretches underground with no cell service. You had to take things to do to keep yourself stable, assuming of course you weren't dead tired or packed in like sardines (which was likely). I wrote. And read. Sometimes got brave enough to sleep.

Which is to say I understand why working from home is necessary. I'm an advocate for that being a permanent option, actually. But as I'm on minute fifteen of a thirty-minute ride, just now approaching Lexington and 63rd, I'm realizing I miss this being a regular thing. The roar of the subway. Faint chatter from the other end of the car. The smell of stale air and weed through a mask.

I'm not sure if you go to the city all that often, but the older cars have poetry and art in them. Not graffiti, sadly, because they clean that up, but ad posters with poems about the exhausted spirit of the city or something. Feels a little manufactured saying that out loud, but I appreciate there are people like us, tired and cat-napping on subways between scribbles of fantasy ball-pointed in beat-up notebooks. When I first moved to the city, I didn't think I'd like it. I still don't; it's just a city, an object. But it's the people. Shades of them everywhere, just like us.

Which is all to say finally, after many distractions, really getting into dirt in the doing.

But oop, here's my stop. :')

In December, 2014, my college cohort spent 4 weeks in Italy.

I've been to big cities, I've been to small ones. I've roamed old streets and new ones. I've been surrounded by languages I do not speak and foods I've never tried. And in 2014, I spent 3 weeks in Florence, and it felt like coming home.

I had never been, but it felt like I had. Cobblestones and cathedrals, markets and museums. We saw so many antique things, so many beautiful things. On a typical day, we wandered around a gallery with our travel group, admiring and learning. We drank cappuccinos and ate so much pasta. The Christmas decorations were up, a massive tree beaide the Duomo, and large snowflakes of light hung over street signs. Sometimes we'd walk back to the bus in the dark, in the light of snowflakes and angels, holding hands to keep warm, laughing. It felt like home.

Often, I'd break away from the group after we finished the day's outing, and would wander on my own. I had a bus pass and a map, and I never feared getting lost. I've always been good at finding my way through cities when armed with a map. I'd memorize corner shops and street names and stop at the It Cafe for a chocolate muffin on the way back. I'd listen to music on the bus, surrounded by strangers reading or sleeping, and it felt like home.

I don't like cities, as a rule. I live in the country and I love it. I don't prefer the closed in bustle or tall, tall buildings. But for a little while, for enough time to memorize bus stops and find a favorite café, and for the stones under my shoes to feel familiar in the unknown, I do love it, because it feels like coming home.

Do you know what writing letters with you feels like? It feels like coming home.

[thebarefootcajun]

A Semi-Gay Secret on a Squirrel Hunt

We met on a men’s hunting trip before I married my wife. It was 1940, and I was in denial that I was gay, bisexual or whatever. There was no denying I liked men in a sexual way. Knowing something about me was different except I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I had lived a sheltered life pretty much isolated from people with the exception of my parents and my sibling, a brother, four years younger than me.

I had met my wife-to-be at a church social. Once a month my parents, my brother and I attended a church event with preaching and some sort of eating fellowship. It was pretty much the only other source of mingling with people not our family.

My betrothed’s name was Lil, a tall slim girl about four years my junior. She was beautiful, red hair and freckles that I thought enhanced her looks. I was smitten by her beauty, but not sexually attracted to her. Not aware of sexual things, I thought I was normal in that sense.

I was always aroused by men without shirts and naked men I’d seen swimming in the bayous in the woods. That didn’t alarm me or seem strange either. See I was very much not a worldly man. I was just a poor ole country fellow who hadn’t seen or experienced much of life. No TV or radio, all I knew was work, family and the country prairie.

I had sexual urges however that I thought must be normal, mostly images of male fantasies while jerking off in the woods by the bayou so I could wash off afterwards. Just being naked out in the woods felt beautiful, freeing and helped me get in touch with my own body, sexuality, sensuality, and how everything worked. Alarming to me was the first time I had an arousal, a hard on and then I squirted cum all over. Scary shot for a teen who knew nothing of this. Someone should have told me these things. I thought I might be dying. But again, think 1940.

Lil seemed the right thing to do since it’s what all men and women did, marry someone in their early twenties. I was fond of her for sure, and those freckles appealed to me. Lil was a likable girl. She was fun to be with. I hadn’t thought that far out about having sex. I guess I thought it’s what married couples do to have children. I remember being appalled when I heard some boys talking about sex and having babies behind the church one day when we were outside at a fellowship. It seemed absurd to me that’s how babies were conceived and that’s where they popped out.

Several months before Lil and I were to marry I was invited to a men’s campout and hunting event. I had made some friends about my age, married and single men who were going to the campout so I decided to attend, too. The event was held in the woods on the prairie about three miles south from where we lived on the Cajun Prairie. The name of the bayou was Bayou Leontine, named after an old women who fished for catfish in that bayou. Legend has it that a huge, old catfish had pulled her line in and drowned her, hence Bayou Leontine. She was never found; some say she was eaten by that grand poisson de chat (big catfish). Many to this day fear fishing at that bayou.

We settled into our respective camping spaces underneath the blue skies. It was going to be a cloudless sky weekend therefore we slept outside. It was the beginning of the fall season about the time for hunting squirrels. Cool days and nights, not cold, would bring out the squirrels that we’d skin and clean to make a squirrel gumbo. I could smell that roux used as a base for Cajun gumbos and stews. Over a sizable mound of rice that sounded delicious. I was all in hook, line and sinker.

After setting up camp we all took off for some hunting, that by the way is a great time for reflection. Out in the woods away from distractions and the demands of prairie farm life I was ready for some solitary time. I had paired up with a new guy and we had hiked to the north of the bayou where a large bend with cypress trees had been known to attract large numbers of squirrels.

By the way my name is Lin, big into alliteration, not that I knew what that meant other than our names began with the same letter. Hell, I’d never even been to school. I was attracted to Lil because her name began with L like my name Lin. Also big into syllabication and Lil and Lin both have one syllable. I know, I’m a geek, Cajuns would say, “Tu est foufou.”(You are crazy, crazy).

Okay, back to my story. The guy I paired with to hunt squirrels is named Leon. No, I didn’t know his name beforehand so my L alliteration had nothing to do with my pairing off with him. I felt sorry for him since he was new and he had no group or another person who chose him to hunt with. Neither had anyone actively chosen it me so I guess we were destined to be together.

Anyway, we sat back from the crook in Bayou Leontine hidden away so the squirrels wouldn’t see us. There was a flurry of activity, squirrels gathering stuff and bringing it up to the trees possibly placing it in squirrel nests. Neither of us shot, I felt that strange. We’re here on a squirrel hunt but not shooting squirrels, just seemingly enjoying the peace and quiet of the woody, no pun intended, Cajun Prairie. Also every once and awhile taking a peek at each other.

I’m not much to look at, I always felt grateful that Lil gave me a second look and agreed to marry me. She’s the pretty one of the two of us. I’m lanky, about 6 feet nine inches, sandy blond hair, an unkempt beard stubble facial look, and I weigh about 150 pounds. This other guy, Leon, about five years older than me and since I’m twenty-two that would make him twenty-seven. I noticed he was a shy guy, but in my estimation quite the looker. He was shorter than me, around 6 feet, very stocky, maybe 200 pounds, but beefy, hunky, and muscularly built. Had jet black hair, more or less a buzz cut and a full beard. His eyes were brownish green like pond scum water and his eyelashes would have made any girl envious. His brows were black as his hair. I noticed a bearish chest, at least what I could see sticking out of his partially unbuttoned shirt, like he was teasing me. And I noticed big bearish wooly forearms since his flannel shirt sleeves were rolled up.

As I stated before I was absolutely 100 percent new, not to these feelings, but new to feeling them this close to a live person who was sending out gaydar about an interest in me.

The squirrels kept busying themselves with collections of stuff taking it up high in the trees, maybe storing for winter; however the Cajun prairie of South Louisiana is rather mild weather during winter. Neither Leon nor I pulled a trigger. I think, though we eat squirrels, just enjoyed watching those beautiful little creatures of the Lord enjoying being squirrels and doing what squirrels do.

As for Leon and me, we just continued to eye each other now and then. That seemed to be enough to satisfy our male bonding for the time being.

[thebaronmunchausen]

My Father Goes To Court Carlos Bulosan

When I was four, I lived with my mother and brothers and sisters in a small town on the island of Luzon. Father’s farm had been destroyed in 1918 by one of our sudden Philippine floods, so several years afterwards we all lived in the town though he preferred living in the country. We had as a next door neighbor a very rich man, whose sons and daughters seldom came out of the house. While we boys and girls played and sang in the sun, his children stayed inside and kept the windows closed. His house was so tall that his children could look in the window of our house and watched us played, or slept, or ate, when there was any food in the house to eat. Now, this rich man’s servants were always frying and cooking something good, and the aroma of the food was wafted down to us form the windows of the big house. We hung about and took all the wonderful smells of the food into our beings. Sometimes, in the morning, our whole family stood outside the windows of the rich man’s house and listened to the musical sizzling of thick strips of bacon or ham. I can remember one afternoon when our neighbor’s servants roasted three chickens. The chickens were young and tender and the fat that dripped into the burning coals gave off an enchanting odor. We watched the servants turn the beautiful birds and inhaled the heavenly spirit that drifted out to us. Some days the rich man appeared at a window and glowered down at us. He looked at us one by one, as though he were condemning us. We were all healthy because we went out in the sun and bathed in the cool water of the river that flowed from the mountains into the sea. Sometimes we wrestled with one another in the house before we went to play. We were always in the best of spirits and our laughter was contagious. Other neighbours who passed by our house often stopped in our yard and joined us in laughter. As time went on, the rich man’s children became thin and anaemic, while we grew even more robust and full of life. Our faces were bright and rosy, but theirs were pale and sad. The rich man started to cough at night; then he coughed day and night. His wife began coughing too. Then the children started to cough, one after the other. At night their coughing sounded like the barking of a herd of seals. We hung outside their windows and listened to them. We wondered what happened. We knew that they were not sick from the lack of nourishment because they were still always frying something delicious to eat. One day the rich man appeared at a window and stood there a long time. He looked at my sisters, who had grown fat in laughing, then at my brothers, whose arms and legs were like the molave, which is the sturdiest tree in the Philippines. He banged down the window and ran through his house, shutting all the windows. From that day on, the windows of our neighbour’s house were always closed. The children did not come out anymore. We could still hear the servants cooking in the kitchen, and no matter how tight the windows were shut, the aroma of the food came to us in the wind and drifted gratuitously into our house. One morning a policeman from the presidencia came to our house with a sealed paper. The rich man had filed a complaint against us. Father took me with him when he went to the town clerk and asked him what it was about. He told Father the man claimed that for years we had been stealing the spirit of his wealth and food. When the day came for us to appear in court, father brushed his old Army uniform and borrowed a pair of shoes from one of my brothers. We were the first to arrive. Father sat on a chair in the centre of the courtroom. Mother occupied a chair by the door. We children sat on a long bench by the wall. Father kept jumping up from his chair and stabbing the air with his arms, as though we were defending himself before an imaginary jury. The rich man arrived. He had grown old and feeble; his face was scarred with deep lines. With him was his young lawyer. Spectators came in and almost filled the chairs. The judge entered the room and sat on a high chair. We stood in a hurry and then sat down again. After the courtroom preliminaries, the judge looked at the Father. “Do you have a lawyer?” he asked. “I don’t need any lawyer, Judge,” he said. “Proceed,” said the judge. The rich man’s lawyer jumped up and pointed his finger at Father. “Do you or you do not agree that you have been stealing the spirit of the complaint’s wealth and food?” “I do not!” Father said. “Do you or do you not agree that while the complaint’s servants cooked and fried fat legs of lamb or young chicken breast you and your family hung outside his windows and inhaled the heavenly spirit of the food?” “I agree.” Father said. “Do you or do you not agree that while the complaint and his children grew sickly and tubercular you and your family became strong of limb and fair in complexion?” “I agree.” Father said. “How do you account for that?” Father got up and paced around, scratching his head thoughtfully. Then he said, “I would like to see the children of complaint, Judge.” “Bring in the children of the complaint.” They came in shyly. The spectators covered their mouths with their hands, they were so amazed to see the children so thin and pale. The children walked silently to a bench and sat down without looking up. They stared at the floor and moved their hands uneasily. Father could not say anything at first. He just stood by his chair and looked at them. Finally he said, “I should like to cross – examine the complaint.” “Proceed.” “Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your wealth and became a laughing family while yours became morose and sad?” Father said. “Yes.” “Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your food by hanging outside your windows when your servants cooked it?” Father said. “Yes.” “Then we are going to pay you right now,” Father said. He walked over to where we children were sitting on the bench and took my straw hat off my lap and began filling it up with centavo pieces that he took out of his pockets. He went to Mother, who added a fistful of silver coins. My brothers threw in their small change. “May I walk to the room across the hall and stay there for a few minutes, Judge?” Father said. “As you wish.” “Thank you,” father said. He strode into the other room with the hat in his hands. It was almost full of coins. The doors of both rooms were wide open. “Are you ready?” Father called. “Proceed.” The judge said. The sweet tinkle of the coins carried beautifully in the courtroom. The spectators turned their faces toward the sound with wonder. Father came back and stood before the complaint. “Did you hear it?” he asked. “Hear what?” the man asked. “The spirit of the money when I shook this hat?” he asked. “Yes.” “Then you are paid,” Father said. The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell to the floor without a sound. The lawyer rushed to his aid. The judge pounded his gravel. “Case dismissed.” He said. Father strutted around the courtroom the judge even came down from his high chair to shake hands with him. “By the way,” he whispered, “I had an uncle who died laughing.” “You like to hear my family laugh, Judge?” Father asked? “Why not?” “Did you hear that children?” father said. My sisters started it. The rest of us followed them soon the spectators were laughing with us, holding their bellies and bending over the chairs. And the laughter of the judge was the loudest of all.