#to be miserable through the holidays with no money to my name and getting literally yelled at cause im ruining christmas cause i dont buy

[alllostinmythoughts]

My Story

How it all started

I was not born in to the religion but i do consider myself a born in. It’s all I’ve known. My mother was baptized when I was five or six and soon after married my step-father. I do not remember any birthdays, Christmas’, or any other holidays before that point in my life.

My step-father was a fourth generation born in and the religion was everything to his family. We were to carry that legacy on in whatever way possible. Whether by volunteering our time in service or our money in helping others in the congregation. We were to make sure we did nothing to “bring reproach on Jehovah’s name”. It was serious business. Our life revolved around the religion. Not only in our spiritual life but our work and personal life.

My mother was no slouch either. She may have “come from the world” but she was a serious and studious student of the bible. She was a good JW wife and mother. Took care of house and home. Served the congregation as best she could despite her ailments. Our house consistently had brothers and sisters in and out for dinners, barbecues and other get togethers.

I became an un-baptized publisher somewhere between 10 and 12. Not because I felt a calling or anything but because I knew it was expected of me and I already went on service every week with my mother so really it didn’t change anything. I just now had to report those hours I preached.

Doubt

I started to doubt as a preteen. Evolution was one sticking point. I had a very science oriented mind as a child, still do. I just didn’t understand how science could say we evolved but Witnesses say we didn’t. I questioned my mother and she tried to explain it to me and then did what every witness parent does. Pointed me to the “creation book” or Life-How Did It Get Here? By Evolution or by Creation? I read it cover to cover but I still couldn’t shake the idea that hundreds of well educated people came to the conclusion that we came to be through an evolutionary process. But eventually, I knew there was no fighting it, so I just let it go.

Then came doubts about the bible itself. There is so much in the bible that makes me question the organization’s narrative of a loving God verses what God does in the bible. If a person was to do what God did in the bible, I would say that that person was a sociopathic war criminal who should be tried for their crimes against humanity. If you’re someone who believes in the Christian God and believes that the things written in the bible are literal, I’m sorry but this is just my opinion.

Eventually, the expectation of baptism came. At that point, the reasons for me being hesitant wasn’t that I didn’t believe, because I really didn’t know what I believed. I know I wanted to believe, but that was because I knew that if I expressed that anything other than belief, it would alienate me from my family.

Since I wasn’t baptized and underaged, I knew I wouldn’t be kicked out. But it would definitely strain the relationship I had with my mother and sisters. Looking back now, I realized that I would have been in for lecture after lecture from my step-dad. It wouldn’t have been the loving (guilting) approach of trying to bring someone back into the fold I would be reproached for making what he thought was bad and idiotic decision.

I knew there really was only one decision I could make. So, I set the date when there would be an assembly, so I would have to be baptized in front a huge crowd, and I started the questions to be done with two elders. I was baptized in my mid teens.

I look back on that day and I feel numb. I think I felt relief at the time because it was done. The anxiety of knowing that people would constantly be looking at me with the expectation of my baptism would stop. I know now that I didn’t do it for the right reason. I didn’t believe. I just did it, because I knew there was no other choice.

My Step Father

And I continued being miserable. I struggled with my belief and it was not helped by my family life. Like I said, serving Jehovah was supposed to be everything in my family, and that included everything little thing in someones life. How one kept there home, how someone conducted themselves in front of someone else, how someone’s attitude towards work was. And to my step-father there was only one correct way of doing things, and if you didn’t do things that way then as a person, something was wrong with you fundamentally. My father’s way of thinking was based on what the Watchtower taught but to an extreme that I didn’t see in many other family in the organization.

So if the family wasn’t perfect in everything we did, that was not acceptable to my father and we were berated and shamed for it. Sometimes, it felt like nothing my mother did could ever be enough. She strove to keep the house clean to his standards but sometimes she was too tired or there was too much on her plate and he would berate and belittle her. It felt like us kids were never allowed to be kids, we were expected to just get it. You make a mistake once and that was it. Sometimes even a mistake wasn’t allowed. It felt like we were just supposed to know how to do things without explanation.

We would be subject to lectures that would last hours. He would bring up my mothers life before being baptized to shame her. He would imply that she somehow passed on some of her “undesirable” traits on to us kids and that’s why we acted in a way that he didn’t approve of. He would criticize everything little thing we did. Honestly, looking back, some of the things he would criticize us for, was kinda ridiculous. Things that were really not important. In the end, you were left feeling worthless. Trying you’re best would never be enough because if you try your best and you fail, then to him, that means you weren’t trying your best.

Turning Point

After a particular grueling and emotionally exhausting fight, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I went to my mother and told I couldn’t do it anymore. I told her I didn’t believe anymore and that I was agnostic. I told her I would move in with my biological father. Although I was still underaged, I still felt the need to move because I knew the tension would be too much for me. She told me alright but she also reminded me that I wouldn’t be able to talk to my siblings or her anymore. That I wouldn’t be able to see my youngest sister, who was a baby at the time, grow up. That broke my heart, but I said I knew and she said we would talk with everyone later.

That lasted about the day. The reality of my decision caught up to me and I couldn’t take the thought that I could never speak to my family again. Before we could talk to the family I went to her and told her the reason I said all those things was because I couldn't live in a house where in our religion we’re taught one thing but at home we are expected to live an extreme way that one can never attain and that I wanted to stay and I would continue going to meetings.

This reason was partially true. What I was experiencing was what broke the camels back but I was also still questioned my beliefs, I just didn’t want her to know that. And so I started to push everything away, or at least I tried to. They were there, I just ignored them. I overcompensated what I could do to counter the fact that I knew I had doubt and didn’t do more to be involved in the organization. I made sure to keep up to date with everything. I did research for meetings and I probably knew about more events in the bible than my sisters who regularly went out on service and gave bible studies.

Sometimes I look back and wonder if taking everything back and staying was a good idea. I sometimes regret it. I feel I might have saved a lot of heartache.

Leaving

2021. Coming up two years into the COVID-19 pandemic. My sister got married on the 21st of November. On the 28th of November my mother wakes me up. It seems that my parents were waiting for my sister to be married to tell the rest of us, so as not to ruin my sister’s wedding.

I was having one of my bad health days and just couldn’t muster up the energy to get up for meeting. I initially thought she was coming to see if I would be getting up for meeting. She tells me that’s alright, she and daddy just need to tell the family something and after that I can go back to sleep. My hackles immediately rise. Family discussions are usually a toss up on how they can go. I would have never even guess what was about to be discussed.

I walk downstairs with my blanket wrapped around me and sit on the couch. I notice that my mother’s laptop is dialed in to Zoom but not connected to the TV as it usually is, so our family can view the Zoom meeting on a bigger screen. We wait for the everyone to settle in. When everyone is settled my mother moves the laptop to the next room and closes the door because although everybody is usually muted she says she’s any thing can accidentally happen and our conversation could be broadcasted. I get more and more confused by what is happening.

My father and mother look a little nervous. I can’t remember if my mother or father was the one to speak first but they just came out with it immediately. Told us that they would not be going to meetings anymore. I couldn’t believe it. They told us about several things that led them to making that decision.

They told us what they found out about the organization’s hypocrisy with their dealings with the ‘world’. They were a NGO in the UN in the 90’s. If you’re a witness you know that the UN is regarded as the wild beast in Revelation in the bible and that as a witness you are to stay politically neutral and not be a part of any governmental organization. So them being apart of it is kind of a big deal, even if it was only for a decade. They told us of the white-washing of the organizations history. The failed predictions. The double standards expected of different countries.

I remember at one point they turn to my youngest brother and apologize to him and tell him that he was right. You see, a couple of years ago, my brother made it known that he did not believe in the organization and that he was an atheist. That definitely put a strain on the family.

I do not remember who brings it up, but somebody mentions the child sexual abuse in the organization. I have always told myself that that was a line that could not be crossed. That if I found out that the organization was implicit in the cover up of child abuse, that that was it. I could never be in an organization like that.

So that was that. They told us that they wouldn’t stop us from still attending if so desired. They offered to send us all the stuff they found out about if we wanted. They knew that my youngest brother wouldn’t anymore for obvious reasons. My youngest sister was only 8 so, she was just glad to not have to have to wake up early and still for meetings anymore. My oldest youngest brother was past the age that people expected to get baptized, because he always wanted to be 100 percent sure of something before he committed for something and I guess he couldn’t get committed because he wasn’t convinced.

And as for me, I think my mum already had an inkling of where my mind was at, based on previous conversations we have had and provided that time I had told her I couldn’t be a witness anymore. Even if that was years ago. I didn’t give a definitive answer but based on what I said in the conversation, the could infer that I wasn’t going anymore as well.

I let it stew for about two or three days. I guess I just had to let myself come to terms with this big thing that would change everything. I found that I was probably the calmest I had ever been in my entire life. I felt no anxiety. I realized I felt light like a weight had been lifted. I asked mum for all the stuff she found. It didn’t change anything, just gave me concrete proof of what I already suspected.

Aftermath

Unfortunately, we did not leave unscathed. We decided to fade. For those not in the know. Fading is when someone decided not to announce that they will no longer be a Jehovah’s Witness anymore. They will stop going to meetings, without saying anything. This way the elders technically cannot disfellowship (ex-communicate) you. So technically family and friends brave enough can still talk to you without the elders telling them anything.

My parents decided they would tell my sisters, not everything but just that they found stuff out and that they could not in good conscience be apart of the organization. That did not go over well for one of the three sisters and later a second one.

The youngest sister of us four oldest basically told us she had to shun us. She was on my parents insurance and requested to be removed even though she is incredibly sick right now and needs it. She sold the car my parents gave as a wedding present. She only calls to update my mum on her health condition. Because the youngest is not baptized, she still talks to her. She tried to keep in contact with the oldest brother but he would try to ask questions about the organization that’s he could not answer and he got frustrated, so they don’t talk anymore.

The third oldest at first seemed like she wasn’t going to shun us. It seemed just strained at first, which was expected but then she just disappeared. She quit working at my parents business and would not tell my mother where she would be working now. When mum would try and text her, she would only give one word answers and so communication petered out.

The oldest after me still talks to us. She works for my parents and regularly calls my mother. My youngest sister goes over to her apartment almost every Friday. Though the relationship has recently become strained because she is in between my sisters and us. Trying to be neutral but that obviously can’t last forever when my sisters ask her not to talk about them.

Now

Now it’s been 1 year, 4 months, and 14 days since that day. (Yes I did look up exactly how long it’s been.) I have missed two memorials, and have not attended one meeting, assembly, or convention since then. I have gotten therapy. (Shout out to my amazing therapist) Birthdays have been celebrated. We celebrated Christmas last year for the first time. My sister got to dress up for Halloween.

I am trying to move forward. Trying to find myself in the rest of the world. This blog is supposed to be a first step. Hopefully I get there.

[pennyserenade]

favorite movies and whyyyy right back at ya!

get to know me

hey skye! thank you for this question back lol!

i'm a really big fan of movies, so it's hard to condense it down to just a few. a few honorable mentions would be: everything everywhere all at once, down with love, 20th century women, ...and justice for all, back to the future, godfather part 2, bringing up baby, and harvey. i'm sure there is a thousand more i'm missing to be honest, but i have seen so many good movies lately it's hard to remember them all.

but, when people ask me my top favorites, i usually say:

beginners (2010) - its one the movies that got me through a really rough period of my life and it made me love a lot of the things i had abandoned before. it's a beautiful, beautiful movie inspired by the director's real-life experience of his father coming out as gay as an older man after his mother had died. ewan mcgregor plays the main character and christopher plummer plays the father, and it's funny and sad, and offers such beautiful insight into things like grief and death and love. it's so good and i will always speak so fondly of it. i've seen it like a billion times.

holiday (1938) - this one is one of my newer favorites, but it's definitely grown on me quickly. it's a lot of fun because anything with katharine hepburn and cary grant is bound to be, but it's also a very good critic on capitalism in a time where that was sort of dangerous to do, and it's got a very strong female lead in katharine hepburn. it's a story about a man named johnny case who falls in love with a woman who comes from money, and who expects johnny, once they are married, to be a man of business. however, johnny, who has worked since he was 10, wants to take the riches he has acquired and retire young to find out why he's working at all. it's so much fun and you get to see cary grant do some flips !

dog day afternoon (1975) - this movie is a movie i owe a lot to in the sense that it opened the door for me to not only see how good al pacino is as an actor, but also for me to understand that old movies can be good--like really good. i've made every single one of my best friends watch this with me and they all were quite blown away by it, which is insane because they are not fond of 'old movies' for the most part. this is probably one of the best movies ever made in my opinion. al pacino is at his very best in this, and the story itself really amazing and IT'S BASED ON A TRUE STORY. to see an lgbtq+ storyline being taken seriously in the '70s was so nice

inside llewyn davis (2013) - this is literally the most depressing movie i have ever seen in my life but i love it dearly. oscar isaac is an actor who deserves movies like this; movies that are good and serious and character-driven because he is good at it. i have said it a thousand and ten times, but i will say it again: oscar isaac is very much the al pacino/robert de niro/marlon brando of our generation. he's great and he really shines in this miserable little beauty. also, i am very fond of country folk/folk music unfortunately so this also swayed my opinion a little

[scrawnytreedemon]

PART!!!! PHUXKIGNGNGNGN 1!!!! OF TERRARIA SCREAMING

I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR AWHILE, but @space-nerd-sam​ has finally pushed me over the edge so you’ll all have to suffer.

I’ve been deliberating whether to tell this in a plot format or an experience format, and have landed on the latter with various tellings of the former as I go along.

Let us begin!

This all begins back in December 2020, when a then-friend gifted me the game over Steam. This was during the holiday sale, he had a bit of money left over, and decided “Eh, why not?“

He showed me the basics via multiplayer, and soon after I went ahead and began my solo playthrough.

I named my character “Solis,“ like I do all my protags, my beloved he/they, and get crackin.

(The pet finch is called Twiłła(ł as in “w”), and she’s been his/my dear companion ever since I found her staff in a Living Tree)

I immediately get to building the house, however because my friend, like most players, had played pre-1.4, he’d opted to create a mega-house sorta situation where everyone lived, as the happiness system hadn’t been invented yet, and so I initially began with that-- Much to the chagrin of my poor NPCs.

Speaking of NPCs, my Guide was named Andrew, and I instantly fell in love with this guy.

Terraria’s Guides have just, such a nice Vibe about them, and you know I’m a sucker for tender companion characters so it wasn’t long before I adopted this guy as my Teacher-Dad, and decide that he was Solis’ mentor/father figure even before they landed on this planet. Love this guy to bits, kissa him.

It isn’t long before I rack up 50 Silver and the Merchant, Eugene, moves in.

He’s a real miser, and takes up shop in the weird upstairs-dining-room thing in this unorganised hell-hotel. Seriously, that thing was a right mess, my fucking lord. It isn’t until well after that Yehomilk(M i l k m a n), the Dye Trader moves in that I finally haul my ass over to the wiki and go!!! “oh shit!!! noooo i didn’t mean to make them unhappy :(“

Pics for him btw:

The guy moves into my bedroom, which was... it was something, alright. Oddly sweet, as he’d talk to Solis all through the night, so it held an air of domesticity, but unintentionally hilarious nevertheless.

At this point I create another house for the hell of it,

HOWEVER THEN the Demolitionist, Fikod, moves in, and soon after Claire the Nurse.

I go, “haha, husband and wife,“ and move on. Things stay like this for awhile. I knew eventually I wanted to get around to making Eugene his own place, but as of then I’d been largely focused on collecting resources and scouting the world a bit-- Trying to make it on my own two feet.

However, once that’s more or less sorted, I give the poor guy the privacy he deserves, and...

...Yehomilk immediately moves in with him.

I.

You can’t with this--

It’s literally the fucking meme.

This, this sows the seeds of Neighbourhood Drama™, and it’s when I start getting really invested in these characters’ stories.

God, the issue with explaining this in the format I am is that it puts a level of distance between the narrative and the viewer; especially this early on, and you risk sounding like an overly-dramatic douchebag. Solis had yet to come into his own as a character, much the same for everyone else, so I can’t really get into the storied-thick of it all until past a certain point.

We’ll get to that.

I finally have the opportunity to trim down the house and revamp it into something much nicer:

This is an early picture, things have been added since then and there’s no longer gem-trees in the baement, but the structure itself remains the same. I’ll be showing updated pics of the buildings as this all goes on.

Shortly after this, the Zoologist, Robyn, arrives.

I am initially at once grated by her sheer 2014 Yassss-Girl energy but also like “sister???? sister!!!“, but it mellows into a more thorough and whole-hearted appreciation once I finally get to making art of all of this-- Funny how that works.

She and Andrew become close, and while there’s initially a bit of wary-budding-jealousy on Solis’ part, it isn’t long before they all settle down and become a happy-little family unit.

She is the last NPC that arrives before Andrew’s death.

We’re gearing up to take on the Eye of Cthullhu, our first boss, and soon enough Solis’ gets up to 240HP. As we’re preparing a make-shift arena on the tree, suddenly a message pops up on the bottom-left of the screen.

“The Blood moon is rising...”

We make mad a dash for home immediately, dread rising. It’s as we bound past the lake and over the hill that another message shows up.

“Andrew the Guide has [fallen.]“

We come home to the kitchen full of zombies, and Robyn, in her werewolf form, warding them off with only a shred up HP left.

We shove her into the living room as fast as we can, and take on the mob. Our equipment isn’t good, this isn’t the effortless dispatch it evolves into later; it’s slow, and tense, and every now and then they break into the other room to hurt her--

We ward off the siege, all night long.

The Blood Moon rises the next night, too.

It’s then we run, knowing to keep our distance.

We lose our first battle against the Eye to a stray Drippler, just as the potion effect was wearing off. The kind of battle so early you’re still tearing up mushrooms from the ground for spare HP.

It’s the third, and final night that we succeed.

I think I’ll cap it off here, for now. Will continue in the next post.

[bulletballet-arch]

The Revised [ Full ] History of Eve in Picture Perfect

( until I decide to tweak and edit it some more )

In this verse, Eve’s mother Linda would reside in Brooklyn for three years after the death of her husband, William Littlejohn, his brother Malcolm, and Malcolm’s wife Yvette. Initially, she stays in Brooklyn simply because she feels she is supposed to. Her in-laws, Amos and Liza, want to observe her. Similarly, Linda’s parents want to ensure she is fine after narrowly facing death. Haunted by the massacre, Linda suffers from survivor’s syndrome, but she is never allowed to vocalize the pain felt. In the midst of secretly attending therapy sessions ( while Eve is taken care of by her Grandma Evelyn and Papa Giuseppe ) Linda finds that her lifestyle is stagnant. She feels as though she is a woman who does whatever someone else wants. Therefore, Linda decides to move to Manhattan with the five-year-old Eve in tow. They live in a luxurious apartment and Linda makes her living as a secretary on Wall Street while Eve attends ballet classes.

Linda didn’t have to be a secretary, as the Littlejohns (and her father) provided her with money, but she liked working. It kept her mind off things. Sometimes things would feel great until people asked her was her husband the late William Littlejohn. In time, Linda gets a boyfriend who is a stockbroker. He’s white, he’s a recent divorcee and because she worked so closely with him, Linda knew it would be unprofessional to date him. But she thought to herself, ‘this is my decision. It’s okay because I have some control.’ The idea of control was a myth, though. She became his arm candy, similar to what happened within the Littlejohn Family when she initially became linked with William.

Linda could not complain too much, though. Because her new lover was good to Eve. The overall excellent dynamic caused them to get married. Their marriage lasts for four years. Eve is eight years old when they divorce. It’s a divorce that’s long. Messy. He was going to jail for a pyramid scheme was a part of and Linda didn’t want to stand by him. After the divorce - and the trial - Linda decides she could use a break. She decides that she and Eve should leave the country for a little while. Because why not? She has the money. The first country they go to is England, staying in London.

It was supposed to be a month-long vacation, but she kept putting off returning home. She didn’t want to house hunt back in New York, she didn’t want to be identified with a scandal, she didn’t want to see any family. So they began living in London. When Eve is nine years old, Linda would decide to go to South Africa. Eve experienced cities such as Durban, Ghana, Cape Town. While Linda was really in Africa to become more connected to her ancestors, all and all, she thought the experience would be good for Eve. Her baby girl could have a lot of memories of different buildings, landscapes, cultures. And, this exposure did make Eve happy, however, she had no stable school life or friendships. So on a social level, Eve was miserable. She also tried having pen pals, but that only worked for so long before both parties ceased writing one another.  Eve did feel at home when she was in New York with her extended family during holidays like Christmas. Eve’s maternal grandparents wanted her to live with them, but her mother refused it. Eve has a vivid memory seated in the back of a taxi, crying because she didn’t want to go to the airport. And as for Linda - well, she would never notice this, but whenever she was deeply distressed, her mental desire was to just keep moving.

When Eve was fifteen years old, her mother fell in love with a highly esteemed professor from the University of Cape Town. This would be her mother’s third significant relationship. They all began living together and he begins an inappropriate relationship with Eve. It’s all an act of grooming that Eve isn’t aware of. Linda catches on to it and calls out her boyfriend for his behavior. However, he is offended by the accusations. He moves out, but he still contacts Eve through phone calls and  even picks her up from school at one point without her mother’s consent. Eve remembers her mother always asking her questions, ‘did he touch you?’ ‘What did he do to you?’ Eve was overwhelmed, as she felt her mother didn’t believe her. It caused Eve to give her the silent treatment, which in turn caused Linda to decide to move again. This time, they would leave Africa to live in Europe - France, specifically.

In France, the two moved twice. First to Paris then to Lyon. Eve liked Lyon more than Paris, but was much too stubborn to admit it. Part of Eve was worried that if she was open about her love, then her mother would want to move somewhere else. She attended college with a focus on art conservation. Ultimately, she did not fully complete her apprenticeship because she would meet Alexandre DuBois, a con artist she fell in love with.

He did not expose his true nature to her at first, but she began questioning the source of the jewelry he was continuously giving her. When she reached the conclusion that he was a criminal of some sort, Alexandre kept insisting that it wasn’t as much of an issue that she was making it out to be. To prove this he wanted Eve to come with him to a job wanting Eve to participate as well. Eve declined, she wasn’t trying to get in any legal trouble. However, Alexandre said he didn’t like boring women. Offended, she agreed.  He slicked down his hair so it could appear straight. Wore his best suit. Meanwhile, he instructed Eve to dress as though she was going to attend the most extravagant party. When they stood side by side, Alexandre was looking like a wealthy white man with a young, black mistress. The trick, Alexandre told her, was to always act as though you belong. For days Eve waited for consequences. For the police to knock at her door. Something. It didn’t happen. She told herself never again, but she got addicted to stealing with Alexandre, as it became an adrenaline rush.

Eventually, Eve and Alexandre were apprehended by law enforcement. Linda bailed Eve out and told her that if she was not going to continue reaching for her career goals then she would send her to America. Eve would fight back, insisting that she was an adult, so she doesn’t have to go to America just because she said so. Linda then has enough and states that since Eve is a young adult, she can live with Alexandre.  The relationship that would progress between Eve and Alexandre was not without its faults. Even when Eve moved in with him, Alexandre was cheating on her discreetly. He had his alternate hookups and one-night stands, with Eve simply being his main girlfriend. When women smugly confronted Eve of how Alexandre was nothing but a womanizer and she was his latest victim, she fought for the sheer integrity of his name. Behind closed doors, when Eve confronted Alexandre about his inability to be monogamous: he blackened her eye.

The relationship comes to an end when Alexandre gains access to an elite party. During their fumbled job, they would be acknowledged by someone who would be very influential in Eve’s future, Gisella Agostini of the Corsican Mafia. The two would leave the scene in shame, fiercely arguing in the car about who messed up. Eve brings up how he’s a liar and manipulator, only for Alexandre  to rip the pearls from her neck and kick her out his car. She had to find her way back to safety in the dark of the night.

While Alexandre and Eve are separated, the Agostini family does research on the two. They see that Alexandre has a long history of theft, and even a previous murder charge, while Eve just seems to be a college student who got caught up in the thrill of crime. First, Alexandre is snatched off the street by Agostini goons. In what he deemed as an act of self-preservation, he sells Eve out, claiming it was her idea.

When Eve is abducted by the crime family, Gisella confronts her directly. The old woman states that she could fix everything and spare her from her ‘husband’s wrath.’ But the truth is, Gisella’s husband doesn’t do anything in the crime family any longer due to his age and illnesses, but Gisella uses him as a ‘front’ to reign.  Eve ends up working for the crime family,  and in little moments, she ever so gradually speculates she is in the midst of a female mob boss. As the months go along, Eve’s mother wants to make amends but Eve doesn’t want her mother to know she is now gang-affiliated. Eve is very afraid for her life. This leads to more mother-daughter tension due to the lack of communication.  

As the years pass on, Gisella is progressively attached to Eve. This is reflective of how she has her own passion for the world and the diverse people who live in it (especially those of the African diaspora.) In turn, Eve initially grows to feel like she’s a part of some sort of stable family. Ultimately, their relationship gradually becomes overbearing and toxic. Eve is literally feeling like she’s owned and controlled by an old white woman. Therefore, Eve distances herself from dealing with Gisella personally because it was too much. However, Eve continued working for the crime family in regards to assassinations and heists, but she was not eating at Gisella’s home for dinner or talking over tea. Eve decides to make amends with Gisella by the time she is 31. Little did she know, the woman was on her death bed at this point. They were kind to one another and Gisella lets Eve know she can do whatever she wants now. Later that week, the old woman would die. While Gisella’s death comes as a shock - Eve was also feeling relieved. Afterward, Eve has mild conflict with Gisella’s nephew who feels like she should not be leaving the crime family, but Eve insists Gisella harbored no ill will towards her and wanted her to do whatever she wanted. So, she’s leaving.

Eve relocates to New York to begin a new, stable life. It’s what she wants. It’s what she needs. Or so she thinks. She thought New York would have her feel at home and content as it did when she was a child, but she didn't feel this way at all. She felt like a stranger among her family, like a guest or something.  Eve proceeds to sell the art she makes for a living and gains recognition from it. Admittedly, she’s bored with a quiet life. It is entering a relationship with Salvatore Scozzari that sparks her passion for crime, although he would much rather her marry him and live a quiet but glamorous life. But in the end? Eve can’t do it. Breaking up with Sal by claiming she’ll be working at a gallery in California, she travels to another state. Her life as a thief starting up a second time.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Castles Made of Sand

All credit goes to Jimi Hendrix for this borrowed title. After way too much time (thanks to our good friend Writer’s Block and hating the first route I took with this which lead to a complete rewrite), I am finally getting back to finishing up my last two remaining requests for my milestone event. This one was requested by @something-tofightfor, who chose image 5 for Benjamin Greene x reader. In lieu of going to the actual beach, stay inside, social distance, and imagine yourself there with this sugarplum instead. I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 5: Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating: R solely because B. Greene is one sexy mofo. If you haven’t watched Gold Digger, there are spoilers you’ll come across in this one.

Word count: 2889.

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @my-rosegold-soul @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7 @pheedraws

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading!

Once again, enjoy and thank you for reading!

Benjamin’s mouth had embarked on a journey. He’d made his way down the straight line of the back of your neck, and now was tirelessly pressing light kisses down the column of your spine. The heat of his breath was a sharp contrast to the air conditioning in the room, and he was sending literal shivers up your spine. Your eyes had fallen shut when he’d started on your neck, his long fingers threading through your hair. 

“You taste like saltwater and sunshine,” he stopped just long enough to murmur into your ear. He’d changed direction, rerouting and taking a detour up toward your other shoulder. Gathering your hair to sweep it out of his way, he ran a palm over your skin, brushing off several grains of sand that had been stuck there, reticent to let go. I understand completely, he thought to himself, a shadow of a smile curving his lips as they landed on you once again: one soft feather of a kiss followed by his mouth closing over a spot at the base of your neck, gently swiping his tongue over a patch of skin, tasting saltwater again before sucking gently, his intention to leave a mark clear.

You hummed softly, appreciatively, and grinned lazily as you opened your eyes. Benjamin hadn’t been excited about your idea for a weekend at the beach; he’d actually been a bit tight-lipped any time you’d mentioned it, which was strange-- you found that Benjamin was usually forthcoming about most things, with just a short list of exceptions: his childhood, his brother Kieran, and his ex-wife Julia. 

“I never knew you had hard feelings toward the beach,” you’d joked with him good-naturedly. You’d purposely avoided the topic for three entire days, and Benjamin had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe you’d given up your idea of a weekend away. I’d love a weekend holiday, just one that doesn’t include sand, he’d thought to himself, every time you’d made the suggestion. But Benjamin knew it had not so much to do with sand at all. It had everything to do with Kent. 

He did everything he could to avoid returning to the area. He’d done everything possible to leave his childhood and years in Kent behind, to start a new life, and he’d succeeded in doing so. But when Benjamin thought about the place, his heart dropped and his pulse raced at the same time. He felt like the former version of himself, the name Sean White haunting him, circling over his head like a vulture. It was always there. Benjamin was, down to his bare bones, a taller version of the boy with the name he could never escape— the boy who had spent time behind bars, who had nothing, who spent the most desolate and miserable years of a life he’d love to forget—in Kent. 

                                         ***          ***         ***

“We used to spend half of the summer on the beach,” you had continued, your voice light with excitement, words spilling from your mouth quicker than usual. “We’d deviate here and there, but we spent most of our beach days in Broadstairs. Joss Bay. Just as beautiful as Botany, but without so many tourists.”

Benjamin had just watched and listened, expressionless. He wasn’t the type to keep at reading, his usual task at hand, while someone was speaking, whatever the topic… even if it was highly irritating. 

But you, well, you just laughed, getting to your knees and knee-stepping the rest of the way to where he was sitting, a high-backed and slightly-distressed armchair. The end table and lamp were perfectly-suited for his academic pursuits and cerebral hobbies. 

Benjamin’s eyes followed your movement, unable to help a small, wary shadow of a smile appear, vanishing as suddenly as it had come on. You were there then, your forearms resting atop his knees and looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, unconscious of just how beautiful you always looked from his view. 

You had only met three months ago in an otherwise empty corridor at university, but things had gone swimmingly between the pair of you. Benjamin was well aware, and quite often, that he was falling for you, hard and fast and much too much all at once.  He knew that if he wanted your relationship to progress much father— I do, I want her, I want to need her out of love, not from dependency—he’d have to tell you everything; the absolute truth. I want this, with her: the antithesis of what I thought I had with Julia. 

That thought, each time it invaded his mind, caused his heart to pound irregularly, his surroundings to tilt before his eyes. Perhaps he needed you already.

He heard the music of your laughter, the quick glossy look in his eyes vanishing within a split-second. Her smile could illuminate entire cities. 

“I know,” you continued with a slight wrinkle of your little nose, “That it’s quite popular, and the waves are rather choppy, but the sand is still white and the view…” you trailed off, shaking your head slowly as a warmth of nostalgia flooded your senses. 

You were still enamoured by the beach, as you always had been— the horseshoe shape of the coast, the white chalk cliffs, the carefree atmosphere and the smell of the saltwater. Your times there at Botany Bay in Broadstairs were some of your favorites, hands sticky with ice pops melting too quickly, briefly staining the sand. 

“What do you say, B? I’ll find a nice place to say, we’ll spend a long weekend in Kent. It’s lovely there, you—“

Benjamin spoke your name softly, but there was a strange firmness to his tone. Never one to interrupt, you were a bit caught off-guard. As he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, you lowered yourself down to your haunches, allowing your arms to fall from his knees to your sides. You’d seen Benjamin tired. You’d seen him dejected, frustrated over a paper or two that he’d gotten stuck writing, but this… this was something different. And perhaps you were being a bit sensitive, but your feelings were a bit hurt. 

To top things off, you didn’t know how to react to an emotion you’d never seen before from the man you’d been seeing for just three months. Operating on instinct, you just nodded— though you were thoroughly confused— and stood, offering him a soft apology as you went to your small kitchen to put the kettle on. 

Just as you placed the kettle on the stove to heat, Benjamin appeared in the doorway. You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to pass. “Chamomile or lemon balm?” you asked. He took a few long strides and pulled out a chair, sitting at the table, and bit at his bottom lip. 

“Chamomile… There’s.. I’ve…” Benjamin scrubbed his hands over his face in irritation. His nerves were getting to him. Anxiety was thieving his words. “I can’t go to Kent, Y/N.”

You turned to lean against the countertop. Crossing your arms over your chest as you furrowed your brow, it was obvious you were concerned. Benjamin had grown up in Newenden, a small port village immediately north of the River Rother, as an only child. You searched his face and saw tension in the set of his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest seemed almost labored, and when he looked at you, you were startled by the look of pain in his eyes. 

“My childhood.. it wasn’t like yours.” His voice sounded thick. “My mum was not an attentive mother. All of her care was concentrated on landing her next fix, and Kieran and I—“ He stopped short and shook his head, staring down at the table, tracing a knot in the wood with his index finger. “My… brother.” He struggled with the word, his jaw flexing. 

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to speak, but all that spilled forth was silence. He’s lied to me. You felt your chest seize and it was like his words stole your breath from your lungs. Your heart thrummed erratically. He’s been lying to me.

“Older brother.” Benjamin continued, and his voice became unsteady as he went on. “Kieran had no father figure and mine was… fucking useless.” Upper lip curved in contempt, his nostrils flared in anger as the kettle began its shrill whistling. Quickly, though you felt as if you were in a haze, you darted to the side to quiet the sound, wondering how long you could keep your hands busy preparing two cups of tea. 

“When my mum died, Kieran did everything in his power to make everything normal, to watch over the two of us. We had no money and no place to go.  Just 50 quid, mate, to get us through the month. He already had a plan on how to get the money… ‘Just stand and keep watch, alright? Just keep watch.’” 

Benjamin was unaware, but he was sneering-- his jaw clenched, brows knotted, his mouth set in straight line. But the part that was most jarring was the wildness in his eyes. Benjamin, what have you done? Your hands shook as you brought tea to the table, and you wondered for a moment when you’d managed to steep the tea bags. You had no recollection. Benjamin’s words were ricocheting in your head. You felt angry for being lied to, betrayed. You felt a dull ache in your chest for Benjamin and all that he’d been through. You felt a heavy guilt for unknowingly being so inconsiderate in badgering him about a beach trip. You felt like the foundation of your relationship had been cracked irreparably, like the fault lines in dry earth from an earthquake.  Setting one steaming cup of tea in front of Benjamin, you sank into a hard kitchen chair across from him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “So I stood there, and I stood there… and I heard something and then… there was all this blood…” 

Benjamin’s voice was shaking and as you looked up at him, you saw that his face was wet with tears, droplets falling from his cheeks and onto the table. He swallowed hard. “I took the blame, Y/N. I took the blame and I paid for it and he… he let me.”

“Oh, Benjamin.” You rose from the seat you’d just taken and walked to stand in front of him. You could see the agony in his eyes; there was no way anyone could fake that. “Benjamin, I’m sorry.” Tentatively you sat on his knee, and he shook his head.

“I should’ve told you, I planned to. When’s the right time to--”

You interrupted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek atop the crown of his head. Your anger melted away and the only thing you wanted to do was take it away. It was impossible, you knew, so you’d have to settle for offering comfort. For being there. 

“There isn’t,” you said, frowning into his hair. You softly ran your nails over the back of his neck and the two of you sat in silence for a moment. Closing your eyes, you turned to press your lips to his head before pulling away to look down at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. They were stuck someplace between your heart and your throat.

“As soon as I could,” he continued, blinking tears away, “I left. I got out of Kent, and I made a new life for myself, changed my name, got a job, and an ex-wife.” Benjamin attempted to smile, but the corners of his mouth just twitched instead, and no light reached his eyes. “Shawn White follows me every step of every day and I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“I don’t know a Shawn White.” Just saying the name felt strange on your tongue, and you vowed to never speak it again. “I know Benjamin Greene. I know that he helps strange women carry loads of sketchbooks to her office.” You smiled softly, the memory of how you’d met a vivid memory in your mind. “I know that he’s a diligent student, and smart, and is a great copywriter.” Pausing, you kissed his forehead. “I know his favorite foods, the type of music he likes, that he’s funny and attentive.” Finally, you caught his eyes, a touch of sadness and sour regret still there. “I know that I care about him immensely.”

Benjamin had taken to lightly running both hands up and down your back, one on either side of your spine. He couldn’t believe your reaction, or lack thereof. There was no accusation. There was no venom in your tone, no indication that you didn’t believe him. He had confessed to you that his life was a lie, and there you were, beautiful on his lap, reassuring him of all that he was. And when you kissed him then, there was no bitter aftertaste of pity. And when Benjamin smiled afterward, it was genuine, and it reached his eyes. She’s unbelievable.

                                              ***          ***         ***

“You’re so pale. B,” you’d teased, all in good fun. “C’mere.”

You slathered Benjamin in sunscreen— SPF 45,  to be exact. He’d helped you with the hard-to-reach places of your own, his warm palms and long fingers working the lotion over your skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spending our time in the air conditioning?” he joked, voice low in your ear. One last time, he rubbed one hand over either shoulder and leaned forward to kiss your temple. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps popping up In gentle pricks. 

“Are you trying to make me forget about my mission? Because it’s working.” You turnED your head, narrowing your eyes playfully at Benjamin before turning your attention to the array of sandcastles littering the beach. Most of them looked more like sculpted sand dunes or ant hills more than anything else, but there were some valiant efforts all the same. Your mission was to thwart them all. 

“Really, I desperately want to impress you with my architectural skills,” you kidded. . Reaching to your right, you swiped the tote bag you’d brought down with you and pulled out a bright red, plastic sand pail. It held two smaller sand molds inside and a small, yellow shovel hung  from the bucket’s handle. You beamed triumphantly. Benjamin threw his head back in laughter. 

“What?!” Your voice dripped with feigned indignence, but his laughter was absolutely contagious. A giggle bubbled forth from your throat before it turned into full-blown laughter. “These are fully functional multipurpose tools!” You defended the vividly colorful kids’ toys as you unloaded the smaller molds from the pail. 

“You are utterly bonkers,” Benjamin said decidedly as he slid his sunglasses downward to shield his eyes. He leaned back on his readily-spread beach towel, leaning back on his elbows with his long  legs stretched out in front of him. 

And you are a vision, Benjamin Greene. The rest of Botany Bay— the horseshoe shape of the coast in the distance, the sapphire blue water sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, the clean, whit expanse of sand and the picaresque pillars of chalk in your periphery— they all paled in comparison. You loved Benjamin irrevocably. 

And he felt the same way, you reminded him. “You love me, especially the utterly bonkers part,” you chided, setting your building supplies to the side. Joining him on your own beach towel, you rest your chin in your hand, propped up on your side to look down at him. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Remind me again what I am?” you teased. Your eyebrows were raised in question and your mouth quirked upward in a smirk. 

Benjamin groaned in response, dropping his upper body down into his towel unceremoniously. 

“Brilliant at baiting,” he answered, rolling his head toward you. He was smiling, and your heart danced in your chest. Here you were, with Benjamin Greene in Kent, and of his own accord. You’d be returning to work soon, and he’d planned an end-of-summer beach vacation, at the very one you’d mentioned all that time ago. He’d remembered. And he was happy. 

You sat up with a burst of energy. Sliding in your own sunglasses, you readjusted the messy bun you wore atop your head. It was time to get down to business. “Now, are you going to help me build our castle before the tide rolls in?” You paused and turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. “I can offer a promise of air conditioning as an incentive.”

Suddenly invigorated, Benjamin pushed himself up to sit as well, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Move over, Y/L/N,” he said, reaching past your legs for the lemon- yellow shovel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Death Takes a Holiday” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Azrael and Raphael are stuck trying to give relationship advice to a woman stuck in a literal Hallmark Christmas Movie, but she's just not getting the message. Raphael is having the time of his existence, but Azrael isn't too sure how much more Christmas cheer he can take. (2257 words)

Notes: Written for @theantichristmaszine 2020, and inspired by @dianacrimsonia's Ineffable Opposites au where Aziraphale is Azrael, the Angel of Death, and Crowley is the Archangel Raphael. Diana's art for this fic can be seen on their Insta: dianacrimsonia. Please go give them all the love :)

Read on AO3.

“So let me get this straight …” Azrael plants both hands on the table, staring down in frustration at the starry-eyed red-head in front of him “… you’re prepared to leave it all, your entire life, everything you’ve built from the ground up on this miserable cesspool of a planet … for love?”

A smile, serene in its decision, content with a shiny vision of the future, answers him before a single word slips past perky, coral-tinted lips. “Yes. I am.”

Azrael slaps the wood as he pushes himself upright. “That’s rubbish, that is.”

An amused tilt of the head sends crimson curls spilling over a narrow shoulder. “How can you possibly believe that? How can you go through life not realizing that love is the greatest God-given force in the universe?”

“How did he get you to do it? Hmm?” Azrael asks, purposefully dodging the question. “You’ve been here, what? Three days? A week tops? What magical spell did he cast that would lead you to make such an asinine decision?”

“Well … we went on a hayride,” manicured fingers count off, “we went Christmas tree shopping, watched the candy puller make candy canes, listened to carolers ... Oh! We had hot chocolate and then ...” A pause, followed by a dreamy sigh “… he kissed me. At this cafe. Right here at this picnic table, as a matter of fact.”

Azrael jerks his hands off the table top as if burned, scowling at the bench beneath his bent right knee as if it were diseased. “We had hot chocolate and then he kissed me,” he mimics, dreamy sigh and all. “You are, without a doubt, the most insufferable creature I have ever met! And if you had a clue who I play Pinochle with on Thursday nights, you’d know that that’s saying something.”

“In her defense, the hot chocolate here is very good,” Raphael offers, taking a careful sip of the steaming liquid in his own Frosty the Snowman mug.

Azrael’s eyes shift away from the infuriating woman sitting in front of him to the equally infuriating angel seated down the bench from him. “Please enlighten me, sunshine, on how you keep getting us into these unsavory situations.”

Raphael raises his eyes, countering Azrael’s glare with a mischievous grin as a rousing rendition of Jingle Bells - Azrael’s least favorite Christmas tune of all time - begins from out of nowhere. “I read. A lot.”

“I may have to confine your literary resources to picture books from now on.”

“We’re here because we’re needed,” Raphael explains to his unamused companion. “Obviously there’s something we need to accomplish. A message we need to send. It’s kind of what angels do during the holidays.”

“Seeing as we’re stuck in a movie on what’s apparently called The Hallmark Channel,” Azrael divines, squinting at a golden emblem that follows them around like a puppy no matter where they go, “I would say that part is accurate.” He turns back to the woman who has done nothing since the moment his attentions went elsewhere, as if she only exists when he’s interacting with her. And even though he’s an Angel of Death, regarded as one of the spookiest, most sinister omens in all of recorded history, it creeps him out.

“Does he have any investments?” Azrael implores, returning to their lost cause. “A retirement plan? A 401K?”

Sara shakes her head.

“Does he at least collect commemorative plates!?”

“Those things aren’t important to him,” she announces superiorly. “Besides, I have enough money socked away to take care of the both of us. We’ll want for nothing, as long as we have …”

“Love. Yeah. I get it. Probably what he’s counting on, the leech. Man almighty,” Azrael grumbles, running a hand down his face in frustration. “Unbelievable! This dillhole should be working downstairs with us!”

“Simon doesn’t want to raise his son around a den of corporate greed!” Sara argues passionately.

“Really?” Azrael scoffs. “What about a den of good schools and culture? Does he believe in those things?”

“All we need is love.”

“What you need, lady, I can’t seem to say out loud.”

“That’s because this movie is rated PG,” Raphael interjects. “You can’t curse here.”

“Pity. Give me exactly five seconds and I’ll make their ratings go through the roof.”

“More like in the toilet. Guidelines for these movies are extremely strict.” Raphael stirs his cocoa, staring wistfully into his cup. “Darling? You do believe in the power of love, don’t you?” he asks, a deep, abiding concern coloring his voice.

“Of course I believe in the power of love!” Azrael stares up at the too bright, too blue sky, mentally venting using every four-letter word he can think up. “But sometimes the power of stupidity is stronger!” He sighs, so long and hard it deserves its own backstory. “Look, lady, love is grand and all, but so is carving a name for yourself and being able to make your condo payments!”

“Love will provide,” is the only reply she gives him.

“This is a nightmare!” Azrael groans, taking a seat opposite his angel and burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Raphael says, gaining a chipper lilt and a gleeful little wiggle. “I’m having a grand time!”

“Yes, well, you’ve eaten seven Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer cookies, drunk three mugs of cocoa, and you bought a quilt!”

“It’s Amish! Hand stitched! Did you see the craftsmanship?”

“You won’t be able to take it with you,” Azrael points out in a taunting, sing-song way.

“The Hell I won’t,” Raphael murmurs, diving into the mound of marshmallows swimming at the top of his mug.

“This Holy Holiday Messenger gig is all well and good, but did you really have to go and get us stuck in an American movie?”

“I had no control over that, love. But look on the bright side (for you) - we’re not going to be here forever.”

“No?” Azrael blows out an incredulous breath through tightly pursed lips, producing a rude sound that turns a few heads. “It’s only going to feel like it.”

“The spell will wear off in twenty-four hours, I assure you. Which should give us plenty of time to …”

Azrael cuts Raphael off with a look that could melt lead. Raphael puts his hands up in surrender.

“Fine. Here - let me give it a go. Maybe all this needs is a touch of Grace.” Raphael scoots closer to Sara, who’s gazing blankly at a tall, overly decorated tree, with moony eyes. “Look, dear, as much as I hate to admit it, my gloomy but pragmatic friend is right.”

Sara turns on him, glaring like he just spit in her cocoa. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Azrael says. “Excuse me?”

“It seems as though you have just as much wrapped up in your life in New York as your young man does in his daydream of fixing up a run down horse ranch that he doesn’t even have the capital to purchase yet. If I were you, I would go home, back to your life and your job. And either the two of you work things out apart and see how it goes, or find someone whose ideals better line up with yours. Someone who is worthy of you, who wouldn’t ask you to give up everything to live here with him. Because love - true love, the kind of love that lasts - doesn’t come from the sacrifices others ask you to make. It’s about the sacrifices you’re willing to make for others, freely and unsolicited.”

Sara stares open-mouthed at the traitor sitting beside her. But as aghast as she appears, there’s a moment when both Raphael and Azrael think a light bulb has gone off. She’ll agree with them, thank them for their time and their sage advice, then be off, winging her way back to NYC. But after a few blinks, she slowly shakes her head, tsking with every turn of her neck. “You guys just don’t understand the meaning of Christmas.”

Raphael shrugs and slides back to his original seat. “Guess not.”

“Don’t fret, my pet,” Azrael teases. “You tried your best. Guess it wasn’t a matter of Grace after all. There’s no getting through to her, is there?”

“We don’t need to,” Raphael says, reconvening with his cocoa.

Azrael frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the person who needed that message has heard it, and has changed their mind about giving up everything for someone who isn’t willing to meet them half way.”

“Who was it?” Azrael asks, sweeping his gaze around, trying to spot the love lost soul in question.

“Someone out there.” Raphael gestures off to his right. “A real life person out in television land.”

Azrael grins at this turn of events, giddy with relief. “That’s … that’s wonderful! Now we can get the Heaven out of here!”

“Uh … n-no.” Raphael fidgets sheepishly with his mug. “I-I’m afraid we’re stuck here for the full twenty-four hours.”

“Wha---? How!? How can that be!? We fulfilled the requirements of the spell, didn’t we!?”

“Y-yes, but …”

“I know the rules behind these ultimatum locked spells! Once you fulfill your duty, then …” Struck by a sudden realization, Azrael turns wide, scolding eyes on his angel. “Raphael! What did you …?”

“I’m sorry, dear! But when I felt the spell start to pull us out, I just … shrugged it off!”

“But I didn’t shrug it off! How come I didn’t leave?”

“Funny thing that.” Raphael giggles nervously, peeking up at Azrael through glittering lashes. “I sort of … overrode it.”

“Raphael!”

“Azrael! It’s Christmas! I have been trying and trying to get you to take time off and go away with me! This twenty-four hours outside of time could be a holiday for us! Look at all the neat stuff they have planned!” Raphael snaps up a festively decorated flier. “Apple cider tasting, cookie decorating, a peppermint eating contest … and look! A Mistletoe Forest! Do you know what that means?”

Azrael crosses his arms over his chest. “It means this entire town has a huge fungus problem?”

“It’s a forest covered in mistletoe! Mist-le-toe!” Raphael repeats as if talking to a stubborn toddler. “You know … if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Parasites?”

“No.” Raphael wraps a glimmering curl coyly around one slender finger. “I was thinking more along the lines of dozens of hidden corners to get caught under and kiss.”

“My star …” Azrael inches closer, lowering his voice in the hopes that only his love will hear him “… if you want me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask. In fact, you don’t have to say a word. Just look my way and bat those golden eyelashes of yours. I’ll kiss you anywhere you want, wherever you want,” he emphasizes with a cheeky bounce of his eyebrows. “We don’t need mistletoe for that.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Raphael breathes in deep, exhales long. “If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I’m sure that I can summon a portal and send you back to your mortuary. Your grim, dreary, lonely mortuary, with that single, sad wreath on the door …”

Raphael sniffs theatrically.

Azrael rolls his eyes.

“Would spending the day here make you happy?” Azrael asks with the enthusiasm of someone about to have teeth pulled sans anesthetic in preparation for a lengthy root canal. “Really happy?”

“Yes,” Raphael answers hopefully, sparkling a vibrant gold like the nebula he is. “Effervescently.”

“I can see that,” Azrael mutters. “All right.” He drops down onto the hard bench, level with Raphael’s beaming gaze, and despite this whole headache, he smiles. What can he say? He loves to see his starshine happy. “Finish your cocoa and come along. We have a PG rating to tank.”

“Ooo! Is that one of your fantasies? Whisking me off to the woods like a cad and having your way with me?” Raphael asks, blithely misreading Azrael’s mood. Too eager to be on their way, he snaps his fingers, transforming his snowman mug into an argyle-printed Thermos to transport his cocoa in. He wouldn’t want to waste good cocoa. Real or not, it’s way too tasty to leave behind. “Oh! Shall I change into a dress? I know! Something Victorian! With a red-trimmed corset and …!”

Azrael catches Raphael’s hand before he can snap his fingers again.

“Raphael! You are a strong, fiercely independent archangel! I would not think to insult you by acting out a fantasy that employs such a flawed and sexist stereotype!”

“Oh,” Raphael squeaks, equal parts stunned by Azrael’s response as disappointed, causing his shimmer to dim. “Oh, I apologize. Yes. Yes, I see your point. I …”

Azrael brings Raphael’s hand to his mouth, a wicked grin spreading his lips as he kisses Raphael’s knuckles one at a time, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue on the soft web of skin in between, making Raphael’s glow go from brilliant to blinding. “That said - yes. Yes, it is. So please, if you don’t mind … wear the dress.”

***

The Hallmark Channel movie ‘Death Takes a Holiday’, which network execs couldn’t recall green lighting, not a single director remembered directing, nor likewise any of the writers recalled writing, was so insanely popular that, by virtue of a voracious, fan-led letter writing campaign, it ran for three weeks into the New Year, and prompted a sequel for Valentine’s - ‘Death Takes a Spouse’.

[purplesurveys]

1034

survey by tater-tots What is a fruit that you might eat in the morning? Hahahaha. That’s a pass for me; I can’t imagine regularly eating fruit at any set time of the day.

Do you enjoy any food combinations that others might consider to be weird? I like to eat fish with mayonnaise, which was always normal in our household but I realized was weird when I first saw the horrified expressions on my friends’ faces when they saw me use the combination. I like mayonnaise with a lot of other foods as well, which a lot of people generally find weird.

What is a green vegetable that you enjoy eating? Broccoli and asparagus.

Name something you might find in a salad. In my salad, you’ll always find tuna sashimi in it heh.

What is your favorite type of sandwich? Anything that’s like an Eggs Benedict or Monte Cristo. 

Which condiment do you use the most often? Mayo, for sure. Banana ketchup too. I also like sriracha sauce but my dad hasn’t been buying a new bottle of it for a while. 

Name a chocolate bar that you enjoy eating. It’s called Whittaker’s - just not sure what country it hails from; maybe Australia? - and I like their peanut butter variant. Google also told me it’s a New Zealander brand.

What is a meat that you do not eat - ever. Dog or cat.

Are you lactose intolerant, or have any other sort of food allergies? I’m mildly lactose intolerant but I ignore it because a lot of my favorite foods use dairy. Other than that, no food allergies.

What was the last food that you burnt your mouth on? Just plain rice, haha. I had been extremely hungry and I just wanted to dig in; but I ended up spitting it back out.

Which brand of soup do you eat? I don’t regularly have soup, much less buy canned brands of it. 

What are some flavors of ice cream that your enjoy? Cookies and cream, mint chocolate, coffee, chocolate chip cookie dough, queso real.

What is the best type of cookie, in your opinion? I like keeping things classic when it comes to cookies, and I’ve always been perfectly happy with chocolate chip cookies :)

Would you rather have popcorn, pretzels, or chips as your salty snack? Chips. I dislike the other two as I only like the softer, doughy version of pretzels.

Have you thought about going on a diet & actually went through with it? No.

--

survey by pinkchocolate

When you woke up today, was there anything on your mind? Kinda. I felt sad and I was aware of it instantly, compared to most days where the sadness will take a while to build.

Who was the last person you interacted with for the first time? Literally speaking, maybe the barista at Starbucks who took my temperature at the entrance before I was let in the store. I interacted with her yesterday.

What colour was the wrapper of the last snack you ate? White. It’s more of a tiny bag than a wrapper, though.

Do you have a favourite mug to drink from? What does it look like? Yeah, I’ve since claimed my mom’s mug for myself. It’s a copper mug with the Starbucks label on it. It looks super minimalist which I appreciate.

What was the last thing you used, that came in a spray can? It was a Lysol spray.

What colour is your favourite bra? Don’t really have one.

Who was the last person you went to for advice about something? I think it was Andi. I’ve been going to them a lot for help, advice, extra sanity, etc. lately. If it hasn’t been for them I probably would’ve left a few months back.

Have you had a deep conversation with anyone lately? Yes. I finally met up with Gab yesterday to discuss a lot things, iron some stuff out, figure out where to go from here.

What was the last compliment you recall receiving from someone? I’m not sure, I haven’t been receiving any.

And the last compliment you gave to someone else? It was most likely a compliment for Andi on how helpful they’ve been to me.

What kind of bread did you eat most recently? Flatbread.

What was the last sound you heard, that you found pleasant? We were watching a mass livestream earlier and I was delighted when they played the closing song.

How many books do you think there are in your house? Take a rough guess. I would guess around 60, the overwhelming bulk of them mine.

Of all the books you own, which do you think has the most pages in it? It would definitely either be Gone with the Wind or Les Miserables, but I’m not sure which one is thicker.

^ And how many pages is that? I checked both of my copies and they’re soooo close – GWTW has 1,440 pages while Les Mis has 1,463.

What was the last film you saw at the cinema? What did you think of it? Knives Out. I went to the mall yesterday and the cinemas were still closed, so it’s not like I’d be able to watch new movies at theatres anyway. Anyway, I’ve been vocal about the movie enough times on my surveys but I didn’t enjoy it. Whodunnits were never my cup of tea, but Gab had wanted to see it and I didn’t want to make her watch the film alone.

In the last book you read, what was the main character's name? Haven’t been reading.

What was the last song you heard, that meant something to you? Lose by Niki.

How many people do you know whose name begins with Z? I can only recall one such person at the moment; it’s one of my mom’s aunts who also doubled as a principal sponsor for my mom and dad’s wedding.

What do you expect to be doing at this time tomorrow? Maybe doing my embroidery (my package finally arrived!!) or surveys or watching Start-Up, because tomorrow will be a holiday :)

--

survey by luckforlemmy

Did you start listening to more Michael Jackson after his death? I can remember that there was definitely a brief period after his death that I caught up with his discography and listened to MJ nearly everyday; I read up on him and his life as well. 11 year old me figured he must’ve been an interesting figure because of the big reception around his death, so I wanted to know the reasons behind it.

When was the last time that you played hide and seek? I can vividly remember the day when Nina and I played hide and seek when the house was newly-built and still devoid of furniture, back in maybe ‘07 or ‘08. I’m fairly certain that was the last time I played hide and seek.

Who was your first celebrity crush, if you can remember? It was a tie between Ashley Tisdale and Zac Efron, though the older I get the more I’ve been convinced that I ‘crushed’ on Zac only because I was surrounded by girls who went crazy over him in school. I’m pretty sure my first real celebrity crush was Ashley, hahaha.

Do you worry about money? Yeah, especially now. I can’t even enjoy my first paycheck because most of it’s gonna go to Christmas presents, but oh well; at least I can finally buy gifts for my loved ones who’ve always gotten me presents.

Have you ever had to beg for a second chance? Kind of, when I was trying to convince Gab to let our relationship have another shot four years ago. Beg is a strong word for what I actually did, though. It was more of me pitching the idea, not begging.

When was the last time that you sent an actual letter through the mail? I don’t think I even ever did that, not even when I was younger and snail mail was still kind of a thing.

Are you excited to return to school? There’s nothing to return to anymore. Unless I decided to take up a post-grad course in the future, I’m done with school.

Do you hate Internet abbreviations? It can just feel a bit jarring when they’re used excessively in a single sentence, but I honestly don’t mind it for the most part. It’s understandable especially now that most, if not all, of my interactions whether personal or for work happen online.

What was the last insult you gave out? I was never really the roasting type of person, not even towards my friends.

What'd you last look up on YouTube? Hahaha I looked up ‘skynwallz.’ I was looking for the episode of Rhett and Link’s vlogs where they painted the rooms of their offices in the color of their entire person – hair, eyes, and skin. They were joking about starting a new business for it called Skynwallz, so that’s what I looked up.

Are you texting someone really awesome right now? No, I prefer to be alone today.

Do you know when to be serious and when you shouldn't be? Er sure, it’s not that hard.

Do you think that you're funny? I like my sense of humor, yeah, but I know it’s not always going to translate to everybody’s tastes. For example, I’m still figuring out the dynamic in the team I was put in at work, so I can’t make the same jokes that I would normally say with my co-interns with whom I have a more comfortable relationship.

Have you ever sent a secret to Post Secret? I don’t know what this is, so no.

What movie do you really want to see in theatres right now? They aren’t showing anything at the moment. A movie I want to see badly, though, is Ammonite.

Have either of your parents shown affection for you today? My mom made breakfast for us, if it counts. She also gives each of her kids a kiss during the peace-giving portion at mass, so there’s that as well.

What's the last thing that you sang out loud? I watched Start Up before this survey and was humming to the song that was being played at the end of the episode. I couldn’t sing along to it because it was in Korean, but I knew the melody so I hummed.

Is there a word that you always misspell? Rhythm is one of my worst enemies for sure. I also have a love-hate relationship with accommodate.

What was the last thing that you bought that someone else benefited from? I met up with Gabie yesterday and bought her her favorite meal from Yabu to break the ice – menchi katsu with brown rice. I originally got mozzarella sticks for myself but when we got to talking, she mentioned her sisters at one point; I remembered how much I miss them, so I gave up my food and told her to just give my food to her sisters since I hadn’t touched it yet anyway.

Has someone ever made you a really great mix CD? Andi gave me one before she made the flight to New Zealand 10 years ago to permanently live there. I believe I still have it, but I’m just not sure where it currently is.

Have you ever been on Omegle.com? Yes, when I was a teenager and it was new.

Did you talk to someone cool there? Not really; most seem to exit our chat after we did the whole asl thing. I also avoided the webcam option because my anxiety for video calls has always been present.

What song reminds you of your best friend? Any song by The Maine.

Who was the last person to hit on you? Some creep on Facebook.

What's on the paper nearest you? It’s the guide for my embroidery kit. It tells me what stitches to do and the colors of thread to use for the different parts of the template I was provided with.

Do you have a set of lyrics that you really love? From Paramore’s Pool: “As if the first cut wasn’t deep enough, I dove in again ‘cause I’m not into giving up Could’ve gotten the same rush from any lover’s touch, But why get used to something new When no one breaks my heart like you” I scream those lyrics every time they come on. I know I often showed the good, shiny side of my relationship on these surveys; but it was very much toxic at a lot of points and those lyrics - and that song - served as a nest for me, something that told me someone understands how I sometimes felt about my own relationship.

Did you get an A in your last English class? I got a 1.25 instead of a perfect 1.00, but I think that’s still equivalent to an A so yes.

What did you last use scissors for? Cutting thread.

Did you ever secretly hate a friend of yours that thought you liked them? That makes me sound shitty lol, but yeah I’ve acted nicely to people I don’t particularly like.

What do you think of when I say "boat"? That episode of Friends where Joey bought himself a boat at an auction; and Canadian accents.

Would you ever get a tattoo sleeve? Nope. I planned on getting one as a teenager, but I grew out of that phase.

Do you know any really fake people? Yep. I think everyone’s got to be at some point.

What does the last blanket you used look like? It’s pink and has multi-colored polka dots on it.

Do you have appreciation for graffiti? Sure, especially if it’s for political purposes (that I agree with).

Why don't you drive? I do. I just have done it a lot less because I have had little need for driving and traveling to places throughout the pandemic.

Does it annoy you when your printer runs out of ink? I think we have the kind of printer that never runs out of ink, but I’m not exactly sure about the terminologies or how the technology works. I let my sister do the printing hahaha.

Have you ever drank anything from a thermos? Yes, mostly water and coffee.

When was the last time you played in the snow? Never.

Do you know any ignorant people? Sure, mostly Gen X-ers and Boomers.

What is the coolest name you've ever heard? Thylane.

What did you last argue with someone about? Relationship stuff. It wasn’t a full-blown argument, but when Gab and I talked yesterday it was natural for us to disagree on a few points.

Is there anyone that you dislike for no real reason? Hmm, I don’t think so. If I feel that strongly about someone, I usually have a reason otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to them.

Have you had a good day? It was okay; it was nice. I got to do my embroidery hoop art thing, got to watch a couple episodes of Start Up, played with Cooper, and now I’m doing these surveys and am planning to continue my embroidery later. It’s nice to feel productive about non-work things :)

Are you going to have a good night? I hope.

[beyond-the-mirror]

Drunk uncle Dante explains: Christmas

So recently I watched a very funny video called Drunk uncle explains Christmas and I couldn’t help but think of uncle Dante trying (and failing miserably) to explain Christmas to a very curious little Nero. 

In this context, Dante is visiting his parents’ house for the holidays (Eva and Sparda are still alive in this AU) as well as Vergil and his son Nero.

This was written purely for laughs and giggles, so don’t take it too seriously. By the way, this is the video I'm parodying with this short fic if you want to check it out, although I changed a few things to adapt it better for the purpose of this story. It’s in spanish though, but you can turn the subtitles on. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

..........

It was the night before Christmas. A chilly air ran through the ever so active city of Red Grave, which currently had its streets covered in a soft and pristine layer of snow reflecting all the colorful lights that decorated every corner of the city.

People gathered together in their homes to share a most anticipated reunion with their beloved families, mouth-watering food served on their dinning tables to celebrate the holidays, as well as the numerous wrapped presents hidden underneath the Christmas trees ready to be opened.

And of course, the Sparda household was no exception to these festivities.

Tiny hands wandered around a beautifully decorated tree, its fingers feeling around the decorations that sparked curiosity and wonder in the eyes of little Nero. Tucked between the trees branches, a porcelain star caught Nero’s attention, his little fingers reaching out at the trinket. His attempt was interrupted however, when a very loud snore broke the silence that had covered the living room.

Nero turned around searching for the origin of the sound, finding out that it was his uncle Dante who had fallen asleep on the couch nearby.

“Uncle Dante? Uncle Dante, don’t fall asleep yet!”

As small hands nudged the man’s shoulder, Dante slowly woke from his drunken slumber, having already downed a couple of wine bottles (and probably a whiskey one too), though due to his demonic heritage, he only felt a bit tipsy.

“Ummm, c’mon kid... let your uncle sleep for a little longeeer.”

“But uncle Dante, it’s only seven o’ clock. Dinner will be ready any minute now, and we haven’t even opened the presents!”

“Ughh... fine, you’re lucky you’re adorable as hell.”

Dante stretched and yawned while little Nero sat on the carpet, next to the toy train set his grandpa Sparda had set for him early.

“By the way uncle Dante, can you tell me the story of Christmas? Pleeeaaase? You always have the best stories!”

Dante sat silently until he finally relented thanks to the huge puppy eyes his nephew was giving him. “Alright then. But only because I’m the coolest uncle ever right?”

“Yes! The best one too!” Nero giggled enthusiastically, which always warmed his heart to no extent.

“Ok, fetch me that book over there.”

Nero handed the requested book to his uncle, which he proceeded to open and read out loud, starting with the story.

“Alright. Long, long time ago... in the ancient Egypt-”

Nero giggled once again “Silly uncle Dante! Papa says the story took place in Jerusalem.”

“Ok, ok then. So, Mary was doing housework, ironing some clothes because their housekeeper was fired-”

“Like they did to you uncle?”

Dante sighed “No- I wanted to stay at your grandparent’s house for a few days longer, that’s it!”

“You were kicked out of your office because you owed five months worth of rent, you irresponsible imbecile!” Vergil shouted from the studio where he was currently reading.

“Oh shut up Vergil! At least I know what a condom is!” Dante rudely shouted back at his twin before proceeding with the story. “Then, an angel arrived and his name was Gabe. Gabe told Mary not to be afraid because she will have a baby, who will be named Jesus and who will be the son of God. And Mary was cool with that.”

“Wait uncle Dante, how are children born?”

“Well that’s another fun story for another time, but in Mary’s case it was thanks to the Holy Spirit. Not so ‘holy’ tho, considering he messed with Joseph’s wife.” He snorted while a confused Nero tilted his head to the side. “Okay then, Joseph doubted Mary’s virginity, so he demanded a divorce.”

“What does virginity mean?”

“It’s like a hundred dollars bill. If you keep it, it serves no purpose, but if you use it, it’s gone forever. So make sure to spend it well and at the right time!”

“Ohhh I see.” Poor naive Nero, completely oblivious to what his uncle was talking really talking about. “Also, there were divorces at that time?”

“Yep, they were called ‘stonings’“

Little Nero nodded in complete awe at what he perceived, was his uncle’s great knowledge.

“But of course Mary demanded a divorce first, and exclaimed that she was keeping all the money, the car, as well as-”

“Stop mixing stories you buffoon! That happened to you with Lady!” Vergil’s angry voice once again interrupted the story.

“Stop bringing up my personal matters in front of the kid Verge!”

“Scum!”

“You son of a-!”

“Uncle Dante!” Nero’s innocent voice calmed Dante’s nerves, allowing him to take a deep breath and relax.

“Sorry ‘bout that, now where were we? Oh! Well it was the Holy Spirit, and Joseph wanted to take Mary to Las Vegas for their honeymoon... buuut they didn’t have any money, so they settled for Bethlehem instead.”

“There were honeymoons at the time?”

“Of course! You needed lots of money tho... but one day youuu Lady, wait ‘till I hit the jackpot and then you will see!”

“Get over your problems already!” Another exasperated interruption from his twin, Dante surely wasn’t getting any rest.

“Well then. The couple arrived at a cheap hotel room when suddenly, Mary went into labor. And that’s how sweet baby Jesus was born, our Lord and Savior I suppose.”

“Whoaaa...” Dante couldn’t help but feel proud that he managed to keep his nephew entertained with his fun, albeit inaccurate, stories. “Uncle Dante, was Jesus a good person?”

“Good? He was great actually! He could turn water into wine and stuff!”

“Can I drink wine too?”

“Of course! The bible says so after all.” Dante was about to hand his nephew the unfinished bottle of wine he had kept next to the couch when suddenly-

“IF YOU GIVE WINE TO MY SON I SWEAR ON OUR DEMONIC LINEAGE THAT I WILL MUTILATE YOU BEYOND RECOGNITION!”

“Damn it!” As soon as Vergil’s voice entered his ears, he quickly retracted his hand, taking the bottle of wine and putting it as far away as possible from innocent little Nero who jumped at the immense power and fury in his father’s tone.

“Let’s continue with our story. Thus Mary uploaded Jesus’ baby pics to Twitter and the Fairly OddParents star-faved the pics-”

“Nooo uncle Dante! That’s not how the story goes!” Nero laughed wholeheartedly “Papa told me once. The star was up in the sky and they weren’t the Fairly OddParents, they were the Three Wise Men.”

“Okay okay, three men, got it.”

“Three WISE men. And they were kings!”

“Whatever you say kid.”

“And one was black!”

“A bit racist if you ask me.” Dante rolled his eyes and bit back a laugh before continuing. “So, the star told the three wise kings to follow them for God’s sake, literally, and they arrived at the stable where Jesus had been born with gifts for him. One gifted him gold, the other gifted him myrrh-”

“Wait uncle Dante, what is myrrh?”

“Let’s say... it’s a kind of herb.”

“Like the one papa once found under your bed and stabbed you with his blue floating swords for?”

“It was for medicinal purposes I swear!” Dante nervously responded, flustered by his nephew’s sudden question. “Ahem... and the other dude gifted him incense.”

“Why incense, uncle Dante?”

“They were in a stable! You ever been to one? They smell like crap!”

“What about the massacre of children in Bethlehem? Papa also mentione that.”

“Of course! Hitler was a monster, worse than any demon I ever encountered!”

“Noooo silly uncle Dante! It was King Herod! Hitler was austrian and from a different era.”

“Whoa whoa whoa kid, who’s holding the damn book again?”

“The book is upside down uncle Dante. And that’s not even the Bible, that’s papa’s favorite book.”

Once he gave a closer inspection, Dante realized he had been holding the book upside down indeed. Moreover, once he closed it to look at the cover, he noticed that it had been Vergil’s beloved anthology of William Blake all this time. 

Sighing and setting the book aside, Dante turned to his lovely nephew “Look little Nero. The important thing about Christmas is that we are all here gathered as a family. It’s not about the gifts or the turkey, it’s about love, like the one of the family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It doesn’t matter where we come from. Joseph raised Jesus with lots of love, and that’s why he became such a good dude and sooo famous.”

Nero smiled warmly at the words, and Dante couldn’t help but ruffle his cute nephew’s soft white locks of hair, making him giggle.

“That means...” Dante continued “that even if you are not a planned child, like you Nero, we still love you all the same.”

“Huh? Not planned?” Nero tilted his head in confusion. “Does that mean... I’m adopted?” Tears were beginning to form at the corner of his baby blue eyes. However, Dante couldn’t even explain the misunderstanding when a loud bang resonated through the entire house.

“DAAANTEEEEE!!!” Vergil had barged out of the studio and into the living room, furious to the point that he had Devil Triggered and with a halo of summoned swords around him.

Needless to say, poor Dante had to run for his life from his rampaging brother, a chase that was soon put to an end after Grandma Eva stepped out and reprimanded both siblings with a rolling pin and a look so stern and powerful that made them both cower in fear and respect. Meanwhile, Grandpa Sparda decided to stay and calm down little Nero, showing him his new train set until the boy was giggling blissfully once again.

Just another normal day at the Sparda household after all.

[princessselene126]

TLC Second Generation (Cresswell)

Before getting engaged and married, Cress went off and explored the world herself for a year. She was the one to propose to him. Thorne may or may not have bawled like a baby. Anyway, Cress falls pregnant a month after they get married and completely by accident… and with twins nonetheless. She goes into labor three weeks early on Throne’s birthday while they’re orbiting Earth. Thorne doesn’t want to land because he worried it would hurt her or the babies... so he calls Jacin and asks him how the hell to deliver them. Jacin walks him through it. Despite Cress’s pregnancy being a little rough, delivery was actually a breeze. She’s one of those women that everyone hates because she barely felt a thing.

Artemis “Arti” Selene Thorne Is born on 23 May 134TE

Named after the ancient goddess whose twin brother was Apollo. Also because Artemis was the goddess of the moon. They came up with their name first, then Apollo’s. And their middle name is after Cinder because “she’s my best friend and we’re doing it.” But guess what that also means…. Their name is literally Moon Moon.

They have their mom’s blond hair (but it’s in a pixie cut) and blue eyes. Petite and slender.  Looks exactly like her Cress when they’re older which weirds Thorne out sometimes. They’re just a little bit taller than Cress at 5’2”

Nonbi and Pan™ 

Starts going by they/them around 14-15 years old

They may only be 6 minutes older than Apollo, but they never lets him forget it. Every birthday the twins have they say that Apollo should blow out his candles six minutes after them, but Thorne and Cress tell them that it really doesn’t matter since it’s the same day. Cress thinks they never should have told them that Arti is 6 minutes older, but Thorne thinks it’s hilarious.

Personality wise… they take after their father way too much. Basically a personality carbon copy of him

They’re snarky. Always making snide comments to Apollo, but he comes back with really good ones so it’s fun. Thorne often high fives them (secretly because cress disapproves of encouraging them) for remarks they make.

They’re flirty. This person… they might be worse than their father when he was her age. Any time they dock Arti finds the first person near their age and hits on them until they’re drooling all over them. Arti has many scandalous rendezvous, but as long as they’re safe Cress and Thorne are fine with it.

They’re egotistical. You know how thorne was obsessed with his hair? Yeah, so is Arti. Thorne and Arti use the same expensive shampoos and conditioners and often get excited when they find a new one that’s better than the last. They preen like a peacock when someone compliments them, usually answering with an “I know”

They’re protective. They consider themself older than Apollo therefore he’s their baby bro and they’re protective as HELL over him. If someone fucks with Arti’s brother, their life is over. Arti will steal all their money, they’ll add random and terrible things to their criminal record, they’ll do everything in her power to make the rest of their life absolutely miserable.

Like their mother, Arti’s a hacker, and they’ve been known to get in trouble for it. Online gambling--which they always wins at and then sends the money to people who need it. They get into bank accounts to do the same. They consider themself a robin hood type person--stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. 

Because of all that, Cress tried to start monitoring Arti’s portscreen when they were 12, but the kid put up a firewall that was impossible for even Cress to hack.

Thorne tried teaching them how to pilot a few times but it always ended with a new dent or scratch on the Rampion. They’ll stick to hacking like their mother, thank you very much.

Apollo Dmitri Thorne is born 6 minutes after his sister on 23 May 134TE

Named after the ancient god whose sister was Artemis. Cress immediately knew what to name him after they picked out Artemis’s name.

Also has mother’s blond hair, but his eyes are shockingly green (Cress and Thorne speculate that they come from Cress’s mother). Similar build to Thorne, but a bit more on the lanky side. This boy inherited his mother’s height, he’s only 5’6”

More Bi Than The God He Was Named After™

He takes after Cress more than Thorne, except when it comes to sass. You can’t live on the rampion and not be a smart ass. It’s just not possible.

Apollo is unbelievably shy. He let’s Arti or Thorne do all the talking for him whenever they’re out and about. He’d rather die than start a conversation with a stranger. It might be a bit dramatic, but that’s how he feels. Cress understands and tells him that it’s okay to be shy.

Apollo is melodramatic like his father though. He used to scream bloody murder when he was a child if he so much as got a paper cut. That’s mellowed with age thankfully, but sometimes he still over exaggerates--usually to annoy his sibling

Through he’s dramatic, he’s very level headed. Makes much better choices than Arti and is more of a rule follower than them. His “rebellious phase” was sneaking into the galley in the middle of the night to eat an extra brownie or two.

He’s extremely insightful. People are shocked by the wise words and observations that come out of his mouth. He doesn’t understand why everyone is so surprised, he’s just… always seen the galaxy differently.

He’s a bit of a mama’s boy.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy spending time with his dad though. They like to play card games together. He has a very good poker face, but is terrible at reading others

Frowns on Arti’s behaviour--aka a bit judgemental--but he never goes out of his way to tell their parents when they sneak out to explore the city they’re at so long as they messages him once in a while to let him know they’re okay.

He’s protective too, just as much as Arti is. Someone fucks with them (or any of the rampion fam kids) they better run to the edge of the galaxy because he’ll find them and make them regret ever being born.

He’s a painter. He gets his artistic ability from thorne, but he’s much better than thorne ever was. His parents get him new art supplies for every birthday and holiday that requires presents. And he absolutely loves it. They converted one of the rampion’s rooms into a small studio for him. There’s paint everywhere.

With the exception of his studio, he’s very organized, but not to the extent that Lovell is.

He can hack too, but not as well as Cress and Arti. He’d rather spend his time painting or writing than sitting at a computer screen all day.

However he is a much better pilot than Arti is. There’s something about flying a ship that makes him feel… like he can do anything. He loves the feeling of taking off and landing.

This boy… he’s also the biggest cuddler in the world. When he was little he used to run into his parent's bedroom at night just so he could be squished between them. He didn’t even have that many nightmares, he just wanted to be held. He’s always hugging his mother or any of the other rampion kids. He just loves hugs.

Second Generation Masterlist

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want To Cash In!"

Tuesday 15th September 2020

Good evening folks! The majority of you will know I've already posted once today, this is going to be my second post of the day following up tonight's episode, so I'm completely up to date with you all! The previous episode (last night's) was a bit of devastating blow for Chantelle, Gray is just finding ways from stopping her leaving, it seems each time she's attempted to leave he's managed to take it one step further and stop her in her path.  

Let's jump right into it, oh my gosh how heartbreaking is the opening scene!!! Chantelle has gone off on a holiday with her family but she has devastatingly had to leave her children behind, she's in the seaside cafe all on her own, staring out the window. All you can hear is the sound of rain against the glass window and the sound of seagulls. She looks like she's lost everything in the world. At the holiday apartment, the rest of the Taylor family are playing games and having fun, Mitch is videoing them to remember the memories, but he is just as miserable, he claims it's the same and as much fun without Chantelle. He can't seem to understand what's bothering his daughter, he decides to leave the fun and goes off to find her.

Back on the Square, Ian is finding every opportunity he can to dodge Max! Pretending to be on the phone and then having to hide behind the door of his house! Sorry, but it's pathetic! Why doesn't Ian just be the bigger man and come clean and just apologise and be truthful about what he's done! He's digging a deeper and deeper hole for himself! Meanwhile, Ruby has gone to visit Martin in the hospital, fantastic news is that he's awake and he's up and out of bed! The main thing he wants to know is if the Police know who it was who attacked him, fortunately for Vinny, Martin didn't see anything! Ruby is completely over the moon to see Martin looking well, so much so that she drops the L-Bomb on him!! But before he gets a chance to reply, he is wheeled off in the other direction. Did Ruby mean to say the L word? Or has she come to realise her true feelings for him during recent events. Another big question is, does Martin feel the same way about her?!

Hmmm, so is Ian actually struggling financially? It's probably understandably that his businesses aren't coping at the moment, possibly due to the current pandemic? But also the fact that he now owes Max some money, will this meeting be the only opportunity he has of getting things under control?

In time, Mitch eventually finds Chantelle. He finds in her the seaside cafe and he comes in tow with a huge elephant teddy for her. It's clear she's been crying, he gently places it on the table in front of her and she scoops it up and holds it as if picking wanting to hold her children ever so tightly. Mitch pulls up a chair and joins his daughter, she is looking so heartbroken and lost. Mitch begins to apologise for not being there for her as much as he should've been, but little does he know that's not the thought that's on his daughter's mind right now. He promises that he'll always be there for her from now on, Chantelle stares at him with tears filling her eyes, he softly asks her the most important question "What's wrong?" ... she sighs and tells him that she's missing her children. Now, of course she is missing her children but she hasn't given her Dad the main reason as to why, she hasn't given him the full story. She claims she just wanted them all to be together, Mitch then takes it upon himself to go back to Walford to collect her kids! Much to Chantelle's shock, but deep down as he goes and promises he won't leave without them, part of me believes she actually has hope that her Dad will return with his Grandchildren. Once again, Chantelle's hopes are lifted at another chance of getting away from Gray, but this is EastEnders - we know what's going to happen, right?!

Meanwhile, in the Vic, Ian is having a meeting with Douglas on his potential chance of becoming a part on the Planning Committee. Sharon is chatting away with Tina about Frankie when Ian enter's the pub. I feel sorry for Sharon really, she is doing everything she can to make it up to Ian. Giving him compliments and speaking highly of him in front of the fellow businessman. Ian is just shutting her down over and over again, not even saying that they're even friends anymore. In all seriousness, Sharon has done nothing wrong! She can't force feelings that she doesn't feel. If there's anyone Ian should be angry with, it's Dotty, for serving him stories and making him believe something that wasn't true. Sharon is literally just wanting her old friend back, but Ian seems to be having none of it! In the cafe, Max is on his phone to someone, does he owe someone money? He make the odd one-liner joke about having to hold Ian upside down and turn his pockets inside out to make sure he gets his money back. I'm sure the longer Ian tries to dodge the bullet and hide from Max, the more suspicious and angry he's going to get! Only, Kathy seems to overhear Max's phone conversation, and says states that he shouldn't be pestering Ian for his money, but Max makes the perfect point and claims that they were businesses partners. Kathy suddenly let's slip "He doesn't need this right now!" ... Bang! Max is suspicious, what did she mean by that?! He moves in closer to her "What has he done with my money, Kathy?!" He knows something isn't right! Kathy stands her ground and doesn't give anything away, she just tells him he'll have to wait, just a little bit longer!

At the Mitchell household, it looks as if Ben has now dragged in Jay to help with getting hold of Danny. I'm quite surprised as Jay has never been one for trouble. He's always stayed clear of Ben and his dodgy deals and gangsters. Jay makes it perfectly clear to Ben that he's not happy about it, he even asks if Phil is aware of Ben's plan. Suddenly, Callum joins them in the room, he can sense that he's walked in on a conversation between them. He asks if everything is okay and Ben assures him that everything is and that Jay is helping him with something. As Jay leaves the room, Callum then also asks Ben if he and Phil are okay with starting a war against Danny? It's a difficult situation for them all to be in, no one wants to get anyone else hurt, but I think that they know that Ben needs to go through with this to clear his name, he really does not want to be going back to prison!

Back at the holiday venue, Chantelle is packing her children's toys in the suitcase. She finds the lucky poke chip that Kheerat gave her and she sighs deeply. Suddenly a knock is heard on her bedroom door and her mother, Karen, appears. Karen sees that Chantelle is already packed and ready to leave. She's shocked to see her daughter packed already before her children have even arrived. Chantelle asks desperately to her Mum whether Mitch has been in touch. Karen confirms to her that Mitch and Chantelle's children are on their way! Chantelle's face is in utter shock! Gray has let them go? Could it be possible that Mitch has persuaded him to let them come? Could this be the last chance she gets of making her escape with the children? There's the tiniest smiles that grows on her face as Karen tells them that they'll be able to enjoy their holiday as family and make some wonderful memories. Chantelle must feel so relieved, she decides to go and buy her children a treat for when they arrive!

On the Square, Ruby is back and giving Kush an update about Martin, everyone seems very relieved to hear that Martin is doing okay. Kat shouts from across the Square that she's managed to pay Kush's rent for his stall! Kush is over the moon and he declares his love for her, as he does so, Ruby looks slightly disappointed - Why didn't Martin say the L word back to her? Does she feel silly for telling him that she loves him? Suddenly Suki approaches her, asking her how Martin is, at first it all seems rather polite but then Suki drops the bomb to Ruby that she knows about the insurance fraud. Ruby is ready to state that it was her son who attacked Martin in the first place, of course Martin is unaware of what actually happened, and Ruby wants to keep it that way. She informs Suki that Vinny is safe, she won't be going to the police and she wont be claiming on the insurance. But what I want to know is, is this going to turn around and hit Ruby where it hurts? Is Martin going to become aware of her and Vinny's plan? Will he blame her for being attacked?!

In the restaurant, Ian is continuing his meeting with Douglas, he's trying to prove a point that he's able to cope in awkward situations. Unfortunately the main thing on the other fella's mind is Sharon. Ian then literally tells him about all her failed relationships, in an attempt to warn him off! Mentioning that she had an affair with her husband's brother, to then Dennis being murdered and then finally - i'm assuming he means, Phil - a gangster?! Or was that somebody else that i'm unaware of?! Anyway, Max finally catches up with Ian, he wants his money and he wants it now! He refuses to leave the building until Ian tells him exactly what's going on! He makes himself known by dragging out a chair and sitting with his arms folded, staring at Ian! I think he knows he can't escape Max now, it's time to tell him the truth!

Oh great! Just what Walford needs, Danny Hardcastle then decides to pull up in the Square. Is he looking for someone? Does he know that the police after him? What an Earth would bring him back to the Square? As he locks his car walks away into the distance, the camera angle moves as if someone is watching him from behind the wall. At first, I thought it was going to be Ben, only Jay appears and shows that he has a screwdriver in his inside coat pocket. Is he going to scratch his car? Or perhaps stab his tyres? I feel sad that Ben has dragged Jay into this, of course Jay would do anything to help his brother out, but surely not in this way?! Ahhh so Danny has come to meet with Ben? Or did he actually believe it was Phil he coming to see?! Danny makes a snide comment saying with Phil not being there, is that his way of apologising?! These two haven't seen each other since that job in Stratford, i'm quite surprised neither of them are putting their fists up. Ben claims that he and his Dad don't owe Danny anything! Ahhh I see, so while Ben and Danny have their little catch up - Jay is planting the stolen money in Danny's car. Danny informs Ben that the money they nicked is traceable, so the police will be all over it! Jay can be seen then trying to close the car boot frantically! At this moment when Danny is walking back to his car, his keys jingling in his hand, I am so worried for Jay as Danny gets closer and closer, Jay is pushing the boot repeatedly trying to get it shut! Luckily he manages to get it shut completely just a few seconds before Danny gets to his car. He quickly walks away and calls the police! Have they really gotten away with setting him up?! My heart was in my mouth when Jay was doing that! I hope to God nothing bad happens to Jay after this!

Back at the restaurant, Max is waiting for Ian to get his money. He appears to be on the phone to a lawyer, of course a fake lawyer! He comes up with a story about his lawyer chasing some thieves and apparently he was attacked on the head. Not realising, as Max points out - that its exactly the same of what happened to Martin! Ian can't play any more games, he knows he's been sussed out. The lies he's building is just getting worse and worse, Max just wants to the truth, he slams the kitchen units, he's had enough of Ian's lies! Ian then states that his money in a high-interest account and he can't get to it quickly because of penalties. Max can't believe what he's hearing, he's devastated that his business partner could do this to him! He gives Ian one last warning, he wants his money by the following week, otherwise Ian is going to be the one needing major surgery! Ian has once again lied his way out of another situation to by him some time to get some money for Max, but in all seriousness - how is he going to get it?!

The Taylor family are still on their holiday, Keegan announces that the children have finally arrived! But they didn't come by train, Mitch appears with luggage and asks where Chantelle, Bernadette informs him that she had gone to buy some doughnuts for the kids. A voice from the hall then echo's the word "Doughnuts!" - Gray has only gone and wormed his way in! Even though the family are all delighted to see him, we know Chantelle is going to be scared and worried and stuck yet again. Karen makes a comment "Chantelle is going to be so happy to see you!", he has a really smug grin on his face as he replies to her that he didn't want to miss out on the family fun! Ooooo Gray is just getting darker and darker, his anger at Chantelle is getting worse and worse and her fear of him is just growing and growing. It's still SO devastating that the Taylor family have no idea what's been going on behind closed doors, which I think is going to make Chantelle's death far more devastating and heart-wrenching to watch.

After his encounter with Max, Ian makes his way back to the Vic. He pulls Sharon to one side, she's asks him how the meeting went, trying to be the best supportive friend she can be. But it looks as if Ian is tired of feeling let down, because his heart has been broken, yet again, he's taking it out on his friend! He claims to her that if it wasn't for him she wouldn't have the pub! He decides to make it perfectly clear to her that the pub is his business alone, she is just his employee. Sharon knows that he is saying this out of spite, just because she doesn't feel the same way about him. He's angry, he's upset, he's embarrassed so he wants to have the upper hand! He's wanting to feel powerful! He warns her that he going to be setting her some targets, and if she doesn't meet them he will find someone else to run the pub! Sharon can barely believe her ears, she has always told Ian how grateful she has been to him over the past few months, he took her in when she had nowhere to go, he comforted her when Dennis died, of course we know it was out of guilt, but now saying he could potentially make her homeless is such a horrible curve-ball! Will she ever be able to find a way to make it up to him? Will Ian finally come to his senses and realise he's in the wrong?!

The last scene of tonight's episode, Chantelle is seen in the seaside cafe buying her children their treats. Its the first time we've seen her happy in a long time. She makes a phone call, it's Kheerat she calls, she's sounding so relieved and so happy. Its the first time we've seen her smile in a long time! She believes her children are on the way to her and she can finally find some happiness with Kheerat, she assures him that everything is fine and he has no reason to worry. She then says that she's ready, she's ready to cash in! Little does she know that Gray has been stood behind her, listening to her conversation. How is he going to know what "Cash in" means? This is going to be the thing that rages him more than anything! He believes his wife is having an affair, even though we know nothing has happened between Chantelle and Kheerat yet, it's going to be the first thing that jumps into his head! Is this what makes Gray lose his temper with Chantelle so much that it comes to the point he commits murder?!

As the episode gets closer of Chantelle's death, the more worried and scared I am of how it's going to happen. I truly believe it's going to be a devastating, harrowing episode. I do believe some viewers will find it incredibly hard to watch, the past few episodes I've been getting very nervous for Chantelle as I know what's coming, but seeing it all unfold - all the events leading up to her death and hearing the news of the aftermath of her death. It's going to be very hard viewing! I know I've said it once, but I can't praise Jessica Plummer and Toby-Alexander Smith high enough! Their performances have been phenomenal this week!

I hope you're all preparing yourself for what the next few episodes hold. It's going to be a tough few days that's for sure! I hope you've all enjoyed reading, thank you all for taking your time to read through my blog. It really does mean the world! Enjoy the rest of your week and i'll be back very soon! Love you all xXx

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Holiday Cheer?

For @newsies-secret-santa I got @radioactivepigeons which is kinda funny and I thought was totally rad so please enjoy this silly fic! Words: 4,637 Rating: PG Summary: Blink got a job at Target and has to work Black Friday in the electronics department. Really things can only go up from here. AO3

Blink wanted to die. Well not literally. But if the choices were death and this? At least he wouldn’t have been miserable with the former.

He’d needed the extra cash, even though he despised the holiday season and the capitalist hellscape that it created with a deep burning passion, Blink’s laptop was about to die and there was just no way he could buy a new one and pay rent for the month. Thus, the seasonal hours he was picking up at a Target out on Long Island. Which meant working Black Friday. Joy to the ducking world. 

It was now almost three hours into his shift and he was being screamed at by his fourth Suburban Mom With Bad Highlights. Honestly? Blink was kinda numb to it at this point. In some not so distant aisle a baby wailed. Soccer Mom took a breath and Blink seized his opportunity before she could continue yelling at him.

“I’m sorry ma’am but we are sold out. Our system says that there’s three left at our West Orange location though.” 

She huffed but grabbed her cart and shoved her way out of the electronics department. 

In the aftermath, Blink allowed his faux charming smile to falter for just a second. He hadn’t been able to let it drop so far since his manager had informed him that the costumers might find his eye patch “off putting” which he would normally reply a “fuck you” to but he really needed this job.

If Blink’s ancient laptop finally bit the dust, then he wouldn’t be able to use the text to speech program that he needed to complete his readings. Because after a day full of classes, meetings, essays, research, and TA-ing he was tired. Reading was just. Not an option. He was lucky his vision held out until he got home. If his laptop died, he could kiss his long dreamt of PhD in English Lit goodbye. And Blink was one stubborn son of a bitch so that was not happening. He’d gotten this far; he could get through December.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

He had to get through today first though. And damn these people were sure making that hard. 

The baby stopped crying abruptly and a John Mulaney quote sprung to Blink’s mind. He didn’t mean to, but he mumbled it anyway, “You hope it was a miracle… but probably not.” 

A muffled snort sounded from in front of Blink and he felt himself flush with embarrassment when he looked up to see a guy standing there on the other side of the counter. A very good-looking guy. A downright hot guy with a mess of curls and what appeared to be dimples as he laughed at Blink. And oh duck. He was laughing at Blink. 

“Please tell me you were consciously aware of the fact that you were quoting John Mulaney about a baby,” Hot Guy was saying now. And god it was shitty of Blink to just completely objectify him like that but damn it was internal, barely six a.m., and what else was he supposed to call him? 

Blink smiled, for real this time, and gave a shrug. Which actually felt kinda good after having not moved from this spot since the store opened. “Can you blame me? It’s true.” 

Hot Guy laughed again, louder and longer this time and throwing his head back as he did so. It gave Blink a perfect view of his smooth, dark throat, his skin just a few shades lighter than his curls. He’d started to nod as he chuckled. “It’s true,” he was saying between laughs. And Blink couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with Blink or repeating what he’d said. 

Blink knew he was just grinning dopily him, but he really couldn’t help himself. He was practically dead on his feet and he hadn’t even had “lunch” yet here stood Blink’s dream partner. Cute, laughed at his stupid comments, knew John Mulaney quotes. Look, Blink knew it was a low bar, but you’d be surprised how few people managed to cross it. Normally it was the second point that tripped them up. 

Finally, Blink managed to come back to where and more importantly when he was. “Sorry, uh, is there anything I can help you with?” 

Th guy shook his head, his hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets and when he made a sweeping motion it pulled his unzipped coat into a sail. “Honestly? I’m just biding my time while my mom guilts my aunt into giving her the last of whatever toy my cousin desperately wants so that she can be the hero come Christmas morning.” 

“Wow,” Blink said with a low whistle. “That is some next level family drama.”

Hot Guy rolled his eyes but that smile never slipped. And thank god, Blink was pretty sure that looking at that smile for the rest of the holiday shopping season would keep him from wanting to commit a felony.

“They’re so competitive,” he was saying, “that now they have to come up with new ways to be competitive. It’s a mess. But can’t say that it makes for a dull holiday.”

He was buffeted by an overlarge man, pushing him closer to Blink’s counter and causing him to stumble. Instinctively, Blink reached out to steady him and managed to grab his upper arm. What felt like his very toned upper arm. Oh duck. Blink was so dead. He didn’t even know this guy’s name and he was already gone on him.

“Thanks,” Hot Guy said once he was steadied. He glanced to Blink’s nametag before looking back up at him with that brilliant smile. “Louis. Thanks Louis.”

“No problem,” Blink heard himself saying because that was it. Wherever Blink was now it wasn’t this plane of existence. He had no clue what he was doing or saying because internally he was just a mess of giddy screams. Pretty people just should not exist because this is what happened to Blink when they talked to him. “It’s insane in here, not your fault.” Oh duck. Had he been rambling? Man, he hoped he hadn’t been rambling.

The smile never slipped though so whatever nonsense was coming out of Blink’s mouth Hot Guy didn’t seem to mind.

Suddenly a voice cut through the chaos. “MIKEY! WE’RE LEAVING!”

His smile twisted into an apologetic wince. “That’s my mom,” Hot Guy told him and Blink was pulled none too gently back to reality. “I’ve gotta go or I will be left here. You always on electronics?” he asked quickly as he started backing away.

“Um, no just today.”

Hot Guy had reached the main aisle and was nodding. “Ok. Um, I’ll find you then?”

Blink nodded and raised his hand in a wave. Hot Guy, well apparently his name was Mikey, flashed him one last smile before sprinting towards the front of the store.

Blink meant to watch him as he walked away but a little old lady’s perm had filled his vision and when he looked down she was rather urgently holding out a stack of coupons and a flyer opened to the new iPhone. He had a few thoughts – who thought it was a good idea to let an octogenarian out Black Friday shopping at the peak of the crazy, there was no way those coupons were actually going to be accepted today, he was not authorized to sell iPhones, he did not have the patience to explain that he was not authorized to sell iPhones to her – but they all were shoved down as she started talking at him.

~

Two p.m. and the end of Blink’s shift did not come soon enough. He was due back bright and early tomorrow at seven, but luckily he was just stocking shelves the first few hours and wouldn’t have to properly think again until he had to work a register after lunch.

It was odd walking out into the bright afternoon sun after having gone into the liminal space that he now called his place of employment in total darkness. The parking lot was still full, and he squinted against the light as he searched for Sarah’s silver Toyota in a sea of silver sedans.

He finally found her at the back of the lot, seemingly talking to herself and waving her hands around as she did so. He knocked on the passenger window and she turned to beam at him before unlocking the car and continuing her conversation.

“I mean, I stand by what I said.”

“Oh, I know you do,” Katherine’s voice came out of the speakers, obviously on the other end of the call. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a viable option.”

“What are we talking about?” Blink asked. He rubbed his hands and held them up to the vent where Sarah was blasting warm air. The walk wasn’t that far but the wind had been killer.

“Murder,” Sarah said cheerily at the same time that Katherine said, “My family.”

“Ah, holidays,” Blink said with sarcasm laced cheer. The girls laughed and Blink sank further back into the seat, exhaustion finally hitting him full force.

“Ok, well I’ll let you two go. See you soon!” There was the sound of raised voices somewhere in the background and Blink guessed that Kath wasn’t just hanging up to let Blink and Sarah talk.

“Bye Kath’rine,” he mumbled.

“Bye Kath!” Sarah said brightly and then there was the weird boop of the call disconnecting. She turned to Blink – or at least he assumed she turned to him but Blink had enough seeing for one day thank you very much and so had pushed his eye patch up onto his forehead and had his eyes closed with his hands pressed over them – and started talking to him with the same enthusiasm. Which was refreshing from the faux happy of his coworkers and the misery of the shoppers but like Blink was not on that level. “So how was work?”

“I hate capitalism. And middle-aged white women. And Christmas.”

Sarah hummed as she put the car in drive and began to back out of the spot. “Yeah, best part of being Jewish? Not doing all that.”

Blink laughed. He hadn’t really done Christmas growing up, after his dad died it’d just been his mom and his brothers and him and his mom really tried but money was tight. Normally they each got a new book and just watched A Christmas Story. Which Blink really didn’t mind and he loved reading and well, he still uses the whole “You’ll shoot your eye out!” thing as his excuse when people ask him about the patch. Just says, “Ralphie was lucky, he was wearing glasses. Me… well I used to have 20/20 vision.” It made people laugh and he didn’t actually have to answer the question.

But all this Black Friday nonsense? All this “buying the perfect gift” and making it the “best Christmas ever” and trying to be a picture-perfect Norman Rockwell family just for the one day a year even though everyone knew it was a sham? Yeah, that was bullshit and a load of bullshit Blink really didn’t need in his life. But damn he needed that new laptop.

“Well thanks,” Blink said after a short silence.

“For what?” Sarah asked. They were good friends, thanks to Jack being one of Blink’s buddies from high school and Jack and Davey meeting in college and being, well, Jack and Davey and then Sarah being Dave’s sister it only made sense that they’d crossed paths freshman year and hit it off. Though they were probably the most surprised of anybody when they’d gotten so close over the next couple of years. Even then, Sarah wasn’t a mind reader and Blink had a habit of non sequiturs.

“Driving me to and from work. Especially today what with the hours. And then being willing to bring me out here every weekend for the next month,” Blink explained.

Sarah scoffed but Blink kept talking before she could start telling him how little she minded. He needed to get it off his chest.

“And for inviting me to Thanksgiving and letting me stay with you and your folks. I already thanked ‘em yesterday for it and for letting me stay the weekends but you’re driving and I’ll pay you for some of the gas once I get my first paycheck and-”

“Louis!” She cut him off and Sarah only ever called him Louis if she really needed his attention. “It’s fine! You don’t have to thank me or pay for gas! Jeez. I’m helping Les prep for his SATs and coming out every weekend anyway, it’s literally not a problem. Besides, my parents love you and since they moved out here they have the spare room. On top of all that, you’re one of my best friends, you’re always welcome at the Jacobs Family Thanksgiving, with all its insanity, and I’m more than happy to help you out in any way I can. We all are.”

Blink sighed and sat up to look at her. Sarah was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his reaction. “You’re too good.”

She just smirked and shrugged. “I mean, I’m going to make you help me help Les so really you might want to rethink that.”

Blink laughed and he could tell that Sarah was pleased with herself. She let him sit in silence for a little while longer as she turned into the development that her parents had moved to when the twins were in high school. Mr. Jacobs had gotten injured at work due to the company cutting corners and not following the proper safety protocols. They’d sued and managed to win enough that they covered the medical bills and moved to the family out of their cramped apartment in Lower Manhattan to the nice house in suburban Long Island. Now, Mr. Jacobs served on the town council and worked as a safety inspector and the house had become a weekend refuge for their children’s ragtag group of friends.

“So,” Sarah said as they neared her parents’ house, “anything that you need to curse about from today before we get home?”

Groaning and throwing his hands up in the air made her laugh but the look Sarah gave him said she wasn’t going to accept that as an answer. Blink sighed. “If I never hear a thick Long Island accent again it’ll be too soon.”

That got him a snort. “You’re friends with Spot Conlon-”

“Who has a Brooklyn accent and yes there is a difference!”

Sarah scoffed, obviously not buying it but Blink was willing to die on this hill.

“I really don’t understand what everyone needs a seventy-five-inch tv for. Honestly. And now I officially cringe anytime I see a woman with a ‘Can I Speak to Your Manager’ haircut.”

Sarah turned into her driveway and parked but didn’t turn off the car yet. “That it?”

Blink shrugged and began to nod before freezing. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I nearly forgot.”

Sarah looked concerned and he knew he must have a horrified expression.

He turned to her and looked at her seriously. “Sarah.”

“Blink?”

“I met the love of my life this morning.”

“Really.” She sounded incredulous.

“I swear to you. I am in ducking love.”

“Uh huh. You get their number?”

Blink winced, remembering his mistake from being dead on his feet when he met the guy. “No…”

“Blink!”

“Look! It was early! Like before sunrise! And I was on the electronics counter! I’m lucky I was able to speak coherent English!”

Sarah snorted but remained silent, giving him the opportunity to redeem himself.

“I got his name,” Blink told her and was rewarded with an impressed raise of the brows. “And he said he’s gonna come back another day when it’s not crazy to see me so…”

With a sigh and a shake of the head Sarah showed that he’d lost any points he got by getting the guy’s name. “So? Who is he?”

“Uh, Mikey.”

“Mikey…? What. What’s his last name.”

Blink winced. “I just know his name’s Mikey.”

Sarah gave him a blank look and turned to shut off the car and get out. Blink resettled his eye patch and hurried to follow her. “You’re hopeless,” Sarah called over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

Blink sighed and followed. “I know.”

~

Saturday passed in a blur. Thankfully it was significantly less busy and Blink actually knew the answers to all the questions he was asked but it still drained him. He practically collapsed when he got in Sarah’s car.

“Mystery Mikey show up?” she teased but Blink knew there was genuine interest in there too.

Blink sighed. “No.”

“Well you’ve got time.”

Blink just shrugged and allowed himself to doze off as they drove.

~

Sunday afternoon saw Blink climbing out of Sarah’s car so he could get his bag and climb back into Sarah’s car so she, Blink, and Davey could all get back to the city. He felt absolutely wiped from his first weekend working at Target but knew it was all because of the sales. Some not so distant part of him said that he should just get used to this though because he was working weekends all holiday season and this was just going to be his life now.

He thanked Mr. Jacobs again and gave Mrs. Jacobs one last hug and Les’s hair one last ruffle before following Davey out the door. They both threw their bags in the trunk and Dave shot him a quizzical look.

“You even pack anything? You only needed red shirts and khakis,” he deadpanned.

Blink stared at him for a few seconds. “Wow. That joke? It was so funny I forgot to laugh.”

Davey snorted and Blink responded with an eyeroll. Normally he’d have smiled but he was too tired to do much else than turn to get back in the car.

He stopped as he caught sight of the next-door neighbors’ driveway. Next to a blue Honda was a mother hugging her adult son tightly. The guy had his eyes turned skyward and seemed to be enduring her public display of affection. It looked like he was gearing up to say something to her when he saw Blink though.

That was when Blink knew. He’d thought it was Mikey, his mystery crush from Friday, but when he froze Blink knew it was him.

Mikey’s mother could be heard asking him what was wrong as he stiffly released her and then she was turning to watch him cross over the grass dividing the two driveways and walk up to Blink.

They stood there staring at each other in shock. Sarah had come out and distantly Blink heard her ask Davey what was going on and Davey mumbling something back. But Blink didn’t care because what’re the odds that he’d actually meet the guy he’d decided he’d fallen in love with again?

“What’re you doing at the Jacobs?” Mikey finally asked in awe.

“Uh, spending the holiday? They’re letting me stay here while I work too cause I live in the city. And Sarah likes me for some reason so she’s driving me around.” Blink didn’t know where the blatant honesty word vomit had come from, but he blamed the shock.

Mikey laughed. Blink could do little else but stare.

“Blink!” Sarah finally called from where she stood at the driver’s door. “What is going on?”

“This is him!” Blink gestured towards the man in front of him, hoping desperately that Sarah would understand.

“Mush? Mush is who?” Sarah obviously did not understand.

“Him! Him,” Blink implored. “The guy from Black Friday!”

“What’re you talking about?” Davey sounded tired. But Davey always sounded tired. Blink elected to ignore him and go back to grinning dumbly at Mikey.

“Hold up,” Sarah said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Your Mystery Mikey is Mush from Next Door?”

“Apparently!” Mikey, or was it Mush? Did he have a preference? Or did Blink have to earn that? Was it an inside joke?

“I’m so lost,” Davey informed them and went to sit in the car.

“Why didn’t you just say that it was Mush?” Sarah sighed. “It could’ve saved so many melodramatic sighs.”

Blink felt his cheeks heat and glanced to see that Mush had bit his lip to try and keep from laughing. Duck that was adorable.

“Um, in Louis’s defense I never actually said my name,” Mikey/Mush finally spoke up. “If I’d have thought to properly introduce myself it would’ve been as Mush Meyers but I’m guessing you and the entire store heard my mom call me Mikey so…” He trailed off with a shrug.

Sarah snorted before Blink could reply. “You actually said your name was Louis?”

“It’s what’s on my nametag! No way I’m gonna run around telling random costumers to call me Blink. And it was busy and I was distracted,” here he gestured vaguely at Mush, “so I didn’t get the chance to say that I go by Kid Blink but most of my friends just call me Blink. Only people who don’t are my mom, my professors – with the exception of Jackson but he’s my advisor – and now my coworkers.”

“And me when I’m annoyed with you or want your attention,” Sarah added.

“And Sarah when she’s annoyed with me or wants my attention,” Blink corrected.

Mush nodded, that easy smile Blink had called to mind so many times in the past couple days was back. “Ok, let’s try this again.” He held out his hand, “Hi, name’s Mush.”

Blink beamed at him and shook his hand. “Kid Blink, but you can just call me Blink.”

“I think you’re really cute and funny and I’d love to get to know you better, want to get coffee some time?”

He didn’t think he could smile any wider after a six-hour shift as a cashier but somehow Blink managed it. “I would love that.”

“Awww, cute,” Sarah interrupted.

Blink turned to glare at her, but he caught Mush biting his lip again out of the corner of his eye. He was going to make sure that Mush always stood on his good side because Blink wasn’t ever going to miss a glimpse of that face if he could help it.

“Can you exchange numbers and plan this date that way?” She continued. “Not to be pushy but I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Brooklyn,” Blink muttered in annoyance and was surprised to hear Mush do so too.

At Blink’s raised brows Mush shrugged. “It’s this guy I know, Spot Conlon, it’s his turf.”

“You know Spot?” Blink had to pause a second. How was it this guy lived next door to the Jacobs, or his mom obviously did, and he knew Spot Conlon and Blink had met him on the worst day of the year in a ducking Target electronics department.

“Yes, yes, and I’m sure it’s a thrilling story and I’m sure you’ll discover a million more little connections because Long Island and New York City are the biggest small town in the world and everybody knows somebody who knows somebody who knows you but traffic is not going to get any better the longer we stand here in the cold,” Sarah huffed.

Dave rolled down his window. “She’s right and will only get meaner.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said primly. Davey just nodded and the window went back up.

Blink turned back to Mush to see he already had his phone out and a new contact page pulled up. He took it and put in “Kid Blink” and in the company line “Alex from Target 2.0” before typing his number and sending himself a text.

Mush laughed when he took it back and Blink smiled in triumph. “I’ll text you,” Mush said firmly and he slid it back in his coat pocket.

“Uh, actually can I call you when I get home? It’s uh, it’s um-”

“Absolutely,” Mush cut him off and kept smiling. “Whatever you prefer.”

Blink smiled back and nodded. “Ok. Cool. Thanks.”

They both stood there grinning stupidly at each other until Sarah honked the horn, obviously having gotten cold and impatient. Blink waved as he got in and Sarah backed out of the driveway, watching Mush wave back until he disappeared.

~

The next Friday when Blink slid into Sarah’s car where she pulled up outside of his apartment building, he was met with a “Hello” and a surprise hug from the backseat. Blink turned to see Mush sitting back there and grinning wildly. They’d talked nearly every day this week and had gone on their first official date on Wednesday.

“What’re you doing here?” Blink asked in awe.

“My mom wants me to help put up the Christmas lights and I remembered you saying Sarah was taking you out with her on the weekends, so I texted her and asked if she’d mind if I tagged along.”

“Obviously I said no he couldn’t,” Sarah said dryly. “He’s also been recruited into the ‘Les Jacobs SAT Prep Squad.’” She looked at him seriously in the rearview mirror and Blink knew she wasn’t joking about that. Mush just laughed and shrugged.

“If I were a better friend and a worse sister, I’d have left him drive you,” she told Blink softly.

He looked back over the seat to Mush before turning back to Sarah. “Nah, this is perfect.”

They all chatted as they neared the Brooklyn Bridge before Sarah started grumbling about rush hour traffic.

“You know,” Blink said suddenly. “You never did say how you know Spot.”

Mush started laughing and launched into the story. Blink was so swept up in it, and most importantly Mush animatedly telling it, that he hardly even noticed as Sarah cursed up a storm.

Blink might still hate the holiday season. And really hate working retail. And especially hate working retail during the holiday season. And need a new laptop. But, with meeting Mush he thought that it was all more than worth it.

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chpt. 11)

“Don’t move...”

Summary: After recently coming face to face with James and facing the ultimate backlash, you now find yourself in a position of discomfort, anger and a good old broken leg at the hands of the skiing accident. Jonathan tries to comfort you - is this finally the type of comfort you’ve been looking for?

A/N: Again, Jonathan is the man of your choosing! We’re starting to hear more of James and the dear husband, Q! This story does get better, I promise it will!

You woke up hearing muffled voices around you and woke up to seeing a blurry figure beside you. A quick and sharp pain jolted within your leg, which you felt had been hoisted above where it needed to be. Then you turned to your left arm and found it trapped in a cast. ”Ah!” You groaned, catching the two figures by surprise. Soon you could see that one of them was Jonathan.

“Oh my god! Y/N, are you alright?” He was mortified by the sight of the bruises that stained your face and how pale your lips are from how long you must’ve been in the frost. He quickly moved to your side and brought your hand to his lips. Something you didn’t bother to acknowledge as all you could feel had been numbness seeping through you.

“Why the fuck is it so bright? God, can you turn that off?” Your voice was croaky and you were rendered weak, although your words still somehow managed to show that you were tough as nails. Jonathan couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“You took quite a hard fall out there, love. I didn’t think you were going to wake up so soon.” Jonathan said with a small sigh as he turned to the doctor, who spent time checking you.

“Hello Miss, Y/L/N, I’m Dr Hans Bjornsson. Your partner brought you here after a skiing accident. Do you remember anything about it?”

Partner. You hadn’t paid attention to the term but gave a small nod. “I remember being damn good at skiing until that point.” You said with a smirk, causing your friend to helplessly chortle.

“And how do you feel?” The doctor asked.

“I wish I could answer that question, doc but I’m going to be honest with you, I can’t feel a thing in my body. Except as though someone is crushing my head with a rock.”

“We’ll get some anaesthetics for that headache. Also I wanted to let you know that you’ve have fractured your ankle after taking the hard fall and from the temperatures you were in outside, it increased the swelling and has been difficult to get down. Also a couple of your ligaments from your calf have also been fractured on your right leg, hence why it is hanging up. Your arm took some severe damage too as you fractured your wrist but other than that, you’re lucky you didn’t take any worse injuries. It’s not usual that people would wake up so soon from a fall taken such as you’ve taken. I’ll leave you two for a moment and make sure a nurse comes back with the anaesthetics.”

He left you and Jonathan alone in the room together. There was a silence lingering and you could tell that even though Jonathan wanted to make sure you had the rest you needed, he still had questions he needed to ask. He held your hand tighter and interlocked his fingers with yours eventually. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t woken up.”

“How long have I been out for?”

“A little over a day. Again, your fall could’ve put you in a coma. The doctor was right, you were lucky. Really lucky.” He sighed.

“Well I’m sorry I put a whole damper on the holiday for getting too cocky.” You laughed weakly.

“Oh no, this is entirely my fault. I should’ve been watching you from the beginning. This was on me, I promised I’d be there and I wasn’t. That was a really shit thing for me to do.” He frowned, scratching his head. “I can’t believe I made false promises.”

“Jon, I’m going to be fine. It was one little accident. You’re not to blame for any of this. ” You said and before you could continue, you entered a raging coughing fit. Jonathan quickly leaped up to your bedside and stroked your back as you coughed. He then turned around and before you knew it, he had a cup of water in his hand and was helping you drink from it. Simple acts like these, you hadn’t expected him to take on but the more he did, the more you warmed up to him. It was difficult for you to do so, but somehow this man made it easy for you to do so.

“It’s alright. I’m here.” He said with a sigh as he rubbed circles on your arm. Eventually, you gave in and leaned against his shoulder, taking in his scent as you did so. Besides being next to each other on the plane, and the incident at his home where he proposed the idea of going to Geneva, you hadn’t been within such close proximity of him. This was completely different, you weren’t nervous. Just at ease. Soon enough, your eyes started to drift off to the sound of his voice.

“And remember, you cannot take part in any physical activity that could potentially stop the healing process. Your injuries may be severely damaged afterwards if you do so.” The doctor said as he signed the rest of the papers.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen, doc.” Jonathan stated, which earned him a glare from you. “I’ll be watching her like a hawk this time.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Got it. Don’t move around too much. Jesus, I’m literally going to be trapped inside that room with nothing to do!”

“It’s what’s best for you, Y/N.”

“Mhm. Yep.” You snapped quickly as you picked up your crutches, while Jonathan remained a close distance behind you.

“Jesus christ! Why does it hurt so much?” You groaned as you leaned back into the soft couch. The pain hadn’t subdued at all since you last took painkillers but in fact had gotten progressively worse. You tried to reach for the remote on the coffee table, but even that was a sport.

“Y/N! You’re not supposed to be moving that’s why it hurts. Let me help you.” He quickly said, moving your shoulders back so he could pick up the remote for you.

“You do realise I still have a right hand. Right?”

“Which is useless when you also have a broken leg.” He noted and stepped forward. You saw him drop beside you in a pair of shorts and a t shirt. God - your not so innocent thoughts came creeping in.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be working?

“Your wellbeing matters more to me, Y/N. I don’t want to be a complete twat and leave you here on your own. You deserve to be looked after.” He said with a genuinely serious tone.

“Look I really think you should go out there. I heard you on the phone in the taxi and I can tell you want to get this mission done. I don’t want to stop you.”

“But Y/N, I’d very much rather be here with you, watching crappy television and drinking beer. I’ll even order us a pizza.” He groaned, scratching his head.

“Jon! Go out and do your job otherwise I’ll be the reason you’re sacked!” You reprimanded him, earning a playful whine from his lips. This was your chance to have fun while you were in a miserable position, so you playfully tapped near his ass, urging him to move. “Off you go. Do your job!”

“Alright, alright! But you know we’re not finished here.” He said, pulling you gently to him with a devious smirk. “You’re definitely going to regret sending me away.”

“Good thing I’m literally stuck here while you go out so you don’t have to anticipate me disappearing by the time you get back.” You retorted and leaned away from him. “Now Jon, get up, it’s time for you to go.”

Jonathan returned ten minutes later in black dress trousers, a navy blue sweatshirt and a black leather jacket. His usually untamed hair was styled so it was kept maintained and again, the not so innocent thoughts came creeping in. “I won’t be long.” He said and approached you slowly, then planted a kiss on your head. Something again, you hadn’t expected from him.

“Give me a ring if there’s anything you need and I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

“I won’t need anything because I can do things myself, you know.”

“Don’t you fucking dare move from that couch unless you need the toilet or room service.” His voice had a hint of dominance to it, which made you blush slightly. You hadn’t been used to this side of him, but it was surely something you were going to enjoy testing.

With that, Jonathan was gone and you were left watching a television show in front of you.

Your phone buzzed beside you, causing you to huff deeply at the caller. “Y/N! Thank goodness you’re alive!” The concern from your husband’s voice was clear. “I heard you were involved in an accident.”

“The dead isn’t coming for me yet, I’m fine.” You chuckled.

“No, I know you’re not alright. What are the injuries? Are you alright?”

“Broken right leg, and I’ve fractured my left wrist so it’s in this stupid cast, in this stupid sling.” You groaned.

“Do you want me to come there?”

“Oh no! Don’t - no. I’m fine, everything is completely under control. Please don’t come here.”

Q gave a long sigh, “I wish I could’ve been there to make things less painful for you. I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. When I heard James telling me this-“

“Right.” You chuckled sarcastically.

“What?”

“Nothing. Carry on.” You shrugged, gritting your teeth to the sound of his name.

“Y/N, did he gave anything to do with the accident? I know James and when he wants something, he goes in full force for it without considering the consequences.”

“Nah, I didn’t even know he was there and to be honest, I don’t really care.”

There was a pause and you can tell Q was contemplating something. “Y/N, I feel badly about how I left you in a time of need.”

“It’s not your fault. Alright? At least I had money to fall back on.”

“I know but now all this has happened. You’re injured and - Bond’s gone rogue. He’s not answering his calls and pulled off his tracker, he was supposed to attend a meeting between Nikolaj Altherr and get a feel of potential terror threats around the room but when he told me he saw you cycling with a friend - he simply cut off all ties with us.”

“Huh. That’s funny. Again, I don’t really care about him.”

“Are you and this friend - are you two-?”

“Going out? No.” You could almost hear the worry in his voice on the other end of the line. “Unlike James, I actually know how to keep friends of the opposite gender without any sexual experiences with them. I’m not even thinking about jumping into anything right now.” Although you felt slightly bad for saying such as Jonathan made you feel differently.

“Right.” You could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief. “When this holiday of yours is over, I was thinking- maybe we can go for a drink. Catch up properly, somewhere nice and no James Bond to ruin it.”

It was a friendly offer and after all Q had been there to check up on you when Jonathan hadn’t been. “Alright. Although it’ll have to be a little while after I return. I plan on working relentlessly to get something in my bank account that isn’t just a drain sucking all the money out.”

Q chuckled and with that you had a small smile on your face. “Please, take care of yourself Y/N. I only want what’s best so lay off the heavy work. Take care of yourself. Alright? Are you at home?”

“No, I’m still in Geneva but I’m stuck inside the hotel.”

“Good. I want you to make sure you take care of yourself.” He said, seriously.

“I’ll try to.” You laughed nervously and ended the call.

You spent a few minutes trying to put two and two together with your conversation. Q had never asked you out in an intimate setting since you last saw each other in Oxford...you silently prayed he didn’t have those feelings return once again. And James going rogue over you? What the hell was that about? But he was in Geneva...and Jonathan mentioned needing to detain a rogue agent in Geneva. Uh oh.

Hours past by and as much as you were enjoying the cosy room, with a fireplace before you and beautiful view of the city and mountains behind, you were getting bored. Your room was large enough to have a kitchen on the other end, and you were sure there was nothing in it. So you pulled yourself up after five minutes and dragged yourself to the door. Gosh it was a challenge, even trying to open the door with one hand.

Just as you did, you grinned to your satisfaction when you bumped into something hard. Then the smell of pizza drifted towards you along with Jonathan’s scent.

“Fucking kidding me?” You whispered.

“Kidding? I don’t think so. Where do you think you’re going Miss Y/L/N?” Jonathan’s accent got to you quickly and guilt seeped it’s way into you. You could even hear him smirking as he said so.

“There’s a bar downstairs right?” You said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Yes but you’re not going there.”

“But I’m bored! I’ve been stuck in there and if I watch another episode of countdown I am going to lose my shit! Can’t I just see something?”

“Not now. You only just got discharged today!” He said with a frown and moved to your ear, “Now what did I tell you about moving from that couch? You’re going to go back inside or else this pizza is not going anywhere near you.”

Even when he spoke about food, butterflies swarmed your stomach. His voice was incredibly low and it was incredibly hot. But he also knew that you would have been super hungry by now, which you admired him for being able to detect.

Soon, you gave up and hobbled back inside, while Jonathan places his arm on the small of your back, directing you inside. “I hate you...” you mumbled.

“Darling, you like the idea of hating me.” He smirked and dropped the boxes of pizza on the counter. “I’m going to change and I mean it this time, don’t move or I’ll handcuff you to the chair myself.”

Your eyes quickly widened to the sound of that, “Wait a minute - you carry handcuffs with you?”

“I’m practically a police officer for agents, of course I carry handcuffs with me.”

“I’m not too sure that’s the only reason you carry them with you…” It was bold enough for you to say, but you only managed to get a chuckle from him and no other answer. For a moment you smirked to the sound of that but then blushed when you realised...he hadn’t given you a definitive answer.

Jonathan returned in his shorts and white t shirt, which you could die for, “How do you feel now?” He asked as he entered the front room. He saw you sat back on the couch with your leg up and you appeared miserable. He poured you both a glass of Ben Nevis and handed you your pizza as it was going to be a struggle to reach.

“Shit is an understatement.” You groaned as you started eating your pizza.

“I’m really sorry.” He said frowning. “I should’ve been there and I promised you I would be.”

“Nah. It’s not your fault, again I was reckless...I got carried away.”

“Do you want anything else?” He said, casually rubbing your uninjured knee from time to time.

“Can you fix my leg?”

“That I cannot do, if I had the power to I’d have done that the moment I found you. I don’t think this was all down to recklessness. You’re a lot smarter than that.” He stated, “Do you remember what happened?”

“I don’t know. I finished my break, then...” Your breath hitched. Jonathan snapped his head to you, noticing you stop.

“What else happened?”

“I got really into it and just happened to go too fast. That’s all. Then everything went black only when I realised I was going too fast.”

“Mhm.” He places his fingers beneath your chin and turned you to him. His eyes bore into yours and you felt as though you couldn’t move under his gaze. “You know when I was out I thought you were going to do something like this. Leave the suite to go to the bar.”

“You know me too well.” You smirked. Soon he moved his hand back onto the pizza. “So uh, did you manage to catch him?”

“No. Unfortunately not. Weirdly, his last sighting was at the same ski resort as us on the day of your accident. Y/N...” he knew already the sigh of defeat. “The rogue agent I need to detain is one Agent 007. And I’m only telling you this because. I recently found out his name is...”

“James Bond. He was my flatmate. I know. I put two and two together this afternoon.”

You placed your pizza on the table and leant back letting out another long sigh. Jonathan instinctively placed his arm around yours and pulled you to his chest, where he kissed the top of your head. “You don’t have to tell me what happened now, I can wait but in due time I hope we can trust each other enough to tell each other things.”

“Mhm.” You absentmindedly said. After a few minutes of silence, Jonathan was the first to speak. “Two brothers.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve got two brothers and I’m the middle child. Apparently I was the most dramatic of us three but I’d say my youngest brother was the biggest drama queen.”

You smiled slightly, finally there were things he wanted to say. “I can’t imagine anyone else being more dramatic than you.”

“Well, my family is like walking into a full on pantomime sometimes.” He laughed, “I haven’t seen much of them since I returned from Afghanistan as that was when I was recruited by a branch of the MI6 to help control field operatives that potentially may harm the preservation of life or the mission itself.”

You snuggled closer to him as he spoke. “Well I went to Oxford, studied medical forensics and did my PhD there so there’s nothing as fascinating as yours.”

“Wait so you’re a doctor?”

“Yeah I don’t know how I managed to get there. To be fair, I went to awful schools all my life until Oxford. Lived on a council estate with my family it wasn’t fun but there was always something to hold onto for the future. You know?”

“I understand. You know, I had an inkling that you would be a remarkable woman. That there’s so much more to you than what meets the eye.”

“I know how to make some quality homemade dishes and a mean homemade burger if you’re looking to wife me as well. Over six years in university does wonders.” You winked, looking up at the stubble that started to grow into something more, which tickled.

“What? Can I wife you now? I’ve been meaning to have someone to share a cookbook with for ages!” The two of you laughed for a while when suddenly Jonathan’s phone rang.

Jonathan picked up his phone, “Hello?” A young woman’s voice was on the other and he quickly moved forward. He turned to you, “Excuse me for one second.”

He rose from his seat and made his way to his room to continue the call. Though you were knackered, you really saw it as time to go to bed, so you hoisted yourself up and hobbled into your room. That bold character seeping in once again. Jonathan returned to find you gone.

“Y/N?” He quickly dashed around the place when he found you in your room, sat on the edge, letting out a long sigh. “Y/N if you need help, that’s what I’m here for! You need to stop moving around like that.”

“I’m fine though. I don’t need help.” You tried to pull off your shirt but struggled in doing so, causing Jonathan to laugh. “Do you need help?”

“Fuck sake.” You huffed, “Fine, help me out then.” You groaned as he grinned making his way towards you. “Don’t worry I won’t look afterwards. If you don’t mind.” He said, pointing to your shirt and at this point you weren’t bothered. Jonathan raised your shirt over, carefully and turned around as you managed to undo your bra. “Can you hand me my night shirt, in the drawer.” He looked into the drawer and pulled out a blue striped night tee, then handed it to you. For a moment you struggled to get your arm through but Jonathan was more than happy to help and even with your jeans, which he managed to undo. He buttoned the shirt, keeping his eyes on yours as he did so, then when he reached the final buttons, he looked down and left two open so your arm had space to move. Simple things like this got to you especially. He helped you turn around and kissed your head before making his way to the door.

“Goodnight.” He said with a small smile. “If you need anything, just call me.”

“Wait. Could you - I figured it would be hard to get you if you’re so far when I need you for something. Uh - would you mind staying here? Or you could go back to your room. It’s cool.” You hid under the covers not bothering to wait for his answer as you knew he was going to say no. The man had to be in a relationship which made this uncomfortable. Suddenly you feel the bed dip and covers raise. “I could never say no to you, Y/N.” You Quickly clenched your fist in the sheet at a sudden pain in your body. Then an arm snaked around your waist reluctantly, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you - by the way. For the pizza - and telling me about some of your family. I probably didn’t tell you as much as you probably would’ve hoped.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to. I’ll give you the time and space you need.” He said as he pulled you closer to him. “When you’re ready, you know I’m here.”

You felt a kiss being planted on your cheek and soon your eyes were heavy and you dozed off.

[terresdebrume]

Pensieve post

Because it’s a way to practice informing people about my life rather than not say anything for week and then ask people for news when I’m not feeling well (which is probably better than barge in demanding emotional support but still probably not as healthy as it get). Plus, if nothing else, it helps me sorting through the stuff I’ve been dealing with recently which is a goo thing to do in conjunction with therapy. Today’s update is mostly going to focus on the crushing situation because that’s what I’ve had on my mind for most of the week and easier to deal with than the whole family situation (1) so….follow the cut to read about my life, I guess.

So, remember on October 1st, how I rode in on the high of coming out on Facebook and feeling like a functional adult (ish), and said I was thinking of maybe asking my crush out? Well it may come as no surprise to you that I then proceeded to Not Do That. And you know, perhaps my friend Julie had a point when she said I didn’t do things by half (and perhaps I had a point when I worried it might be a little too much to undertake in one go) because not only did I Not Do That, I proceeded to sink in a long week of stress, anxiety, and depressed thinking. Because why not.

Context: when I made both these decisions on October 1st, my workplace had just finished four days of big examinations in which I had to overview exam preps and be a jury in oral examinations (which, fyi, is super tiring) and capped it off with an end-of-the-week meal with coworkers and the new boss (2). So, pretty intense week, coming on the heel of a holiday weekend with Julie, Julie’s fiance and the Crush...which I’m only now realizing might have been a little too much excitement in one go because, like I said, the next week kind of went off the rails a little.

I’m gonna spare you guys the exact rundown of things I gave my therapist because that was two thousands of words long and I don’t feel like going back through it. Suffices to say I felt tired, stressed out and kinda miserable all week, with a combo flavor of ‘can I even do something right’ and ‘maybe people secretly hate me and maybe the Crush specifically grew tired of me and wishes I were out of his life because if not then why does it feel like he’s putting a distance between us that wasn’t there before?’. Which, now that I write it down, I’m wondering if I wasn’t projecting a little there.

I mean, it would make sense. I was feeling miserable and un-viewable (3) which I dealt with by not talking to/looking at people when I could avoid it, keeping myself absorbed with my computer to avoid seeing...I don’t know, confirmation that people who have previously expressed that they liked my company (explicitly so and in written form, in the case of the Crush, no less) suddenly found me pitiable at best and contemptible at worst. Which I do realize is not rational but somehow didn’t at the time (4) and still have trouble believing it now (emotionally speaking).

After that uh...interesting week, let’s call it, came Pchum Ben. It’s one of the major holidays observed in Cambodia and like a lot of major religious holidays around the world it entails people going back to their families to celebrate and spend time together. What that means, when you live in Phnom Penh and don’t go away during the holidays, is that you suddenly find yourself living in a literal ghost town. 95% of businesses close down, people leave, etc. It’s actually pretty cool and impressive, really.

Except, if you’re like me (aka: doesn’t generally travel on your own for reasons unknown and spent too much money the previous month) that means you went out of your flat exactly twice in the last five days. Which, I fully agree, is not ideal at all but that didn’t prevent me from doing it (5)...and so, what that means in practice, is that I had five full days of nothing to do but alternated between worrying about the Crush and then find ways to trick myself into thinking I was not worrying/obsessing/go into catastrophe-thinking about the Crush! Yay! :D

Not Yay. (6)

Because the end result of all this obsessing-but-pretending-I’m-not-but-kinda-obsessing-anyway is that I shot my sleeping pattern to the ground (again), stressed out for nothing, didn’t see direct sunlight for a while, and slept badly enough last night that I woke up twice and got maybe seven hours of sleep.

On the plus side, it did give me time to talk about all this with my therapist, which is always good if only because it allows me to get some things out of my head (I swear sometimes it feels like this whole online therapy deal is the closest thing the real world has to a pensieve) and also get my mind blown. Why you ask? Because in the middle of all my catastrophic thinking and imagining the worst, my therapist pointed out that I completely failed to consider to possibility that the Crush might be interested in going out with me and seemed emotionally distant because I wasn’t making a move.

Which.

You know.

Somehow I haven’t considered that at all.

So basically my brains exploded a bit, but in a good way. It actually boosted me enough to try and actually send a message to the Crush, not to ask him out (I wasn’t there yet) but to apologize if I’d made it feel like I wasn’t interested in spending time with him last week. I mean, I know it most likely did but the goal was just to get the conversation going. He didn’t answer, which was actually not surprising because, again, major holiday time so it’s not like I wasn’t prepared for it. Did that help me not stress out/panic about the lack of answer? Not as much as I would have liked, but a little.

Of course, stressing out about that meant the prospect about seeing him today was enough to stress me into a terrible night last night but at this point I figure it could have been worse (as in, I could have not slept at all), and I’m still not done picturing the worst-case scenarios (hence, also, the need to write this post so I could stop obsessing about things). But I do feel...a little better now.

Funny how spending two hours and a half trying to type out a coherent summary of a situation calms you (or me, at least) down. It’s actually kind of why I miss writing, even if I somehow can’t get into it these days: stories are a great way to dig into how things feel and why, and that’s a pretty nice mean of catharsis.

Anyway, the good point of this little exercise is, I started writing this post feeling like I was five minutes away from tears and now I’m just exhausted (early bedtime tonight, yep) but actually more balanced, so that’s cool and maybe something I should do a little more often.

(I mean, I know I said a few weeks (months?) ago that I was glad I made less feels-vomit posts (pensieve posts? I might start calling them pensieve posts) but also that translated into me restraining myself from making one when I felt the urge and that turned out to maybe not be as unilaterally good as I thought it was. So. I guess I need to try and find a balance there.

Also, since I’m going into the good points of making this post now: I’m trying a new policy in the way I talk about my issues where if I know a word or phrasing would make me angry in someone else’s mouth, I won’t use it to talk about my feelings. I think it’s going to be a tough one, but if nothing else it can’t hurt, and considering that was a problem I had with a previous therapist, I hope it’ll be helpful.

Anyway, congrats if you’ve read up until now. If there was a point to this post I‘ve sort of lost it now, but I feel better now than I did at the beginning of writing it, and I have a less negative name for that kind of posts than ‘word vomit’ so, again, let’s count it as a win.

I mean, let’s all be honest here, if I want to delve into that particular problem I’m better off making a separate post for it, anyway.

Said dinner included fun gems like being seated in front of a colleague who, I’m pretty sure, dislikes me (which I tend to not do too well with), coming out as trans to the new boss, and drinking more alcohol than I should have. I mean, it went well overall, but I remember leaving the restaurant with a distinct nope feeling so in retrospect it’s completely possible that my bad week started there. I might need to try and come up with preventative measures against that kind of things in the future.

You know, that moment where you feel like a dumpster fire and wish people could avoid looking at you while you burn in shame, because you’re afraid they can’t have anything but contempt for you after witnessing that? Yeah. That, but for a week.

Side note: why is it that we can know the thinking pattern of doom our brains use, and still fall for it? I want a refund.

There are many reasons why I didn’t leave the house these past few days but I’d say the main two would be that all my friends were out of town, so what’s the point (not a dig against them at all, I just don’t tend to go out on my own) and I didn’t have an adequate means of transportation available because most of the rickshaw drivers and moto taxis were also out of town.

Okay if I really want to go in detail I do have to mention Julie and I spent the afternoon together yesterday and that helped a lot, even if I still obsessed.

[thelastpitchbender]

Memory | Chapter 6

Summary: Link must relearn how to be a Champion before he defeats Calamity Ganon – but first, he needs to stop setting fires and backflipping off of cliffs. It’s too bad that his attempts to be a responsible hero keep getting interrupted by dumb things like owing people money, remembering hardly anything about who he is, and Yiga Clan assassins trying to kill him.

Rating: T for language, violence, dark stuff, and dumb, bad humor.

Read on: FanFiction | AO3

Chapter index here.

Chapter 6

More Bananas?

Someone was cooking something delicious near him. Or rather, many people were cooking many different dishes. Strangers coming together to share ingredients, a cooking pot, and a meal was a time-honored Hyrulean tradition, and it was comforting to know that it survived in most of the old kingdom.

Link cast his gaze around the main market of Gerudo Town with only the slightest bit of interest. It looked similar to how it had yesterday, but more,somehow. The warm, sharp smell of spices was stronger, the laughter and shouts were louder, and the women of the town were wearing copious amounts of elaborate jewelry that gleamed in the desert sun. Isha was standing next to her jewelry store, looking very pleased with herself and all the new business she had doubtlessly gotten today.

Today was a festival day, Link knew that. A holiday for all of the Gerudo. He forgot what the name of it was in Gerudic, but the Hylian name was the Day of Spirit. There were seven festival days to honor the Seven Heroines, and this was the third Link had been present for. It was always a pleasant surprise when he happened to visit during a celebration. On the Day of Skill, he had won the sword fighting tourney, narrowly lost first place in the archery tournament to a ridiculously talented soldier, and gotten last place in the sand-seal race after falling off his shield about six times. The Day of Endurance involved a long procession out into the desert that ended with a ceremony at the statues of the Heroines to honor the fallen Gerudo soldiers.

The Day of Spirit seemed less serious than the other two so far. The point of the festival was apparently to ingest as much food and alcohol as possible while also wearing as much jewelry as possible. This did not interest Link, not today. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall in the corner of the marketplace. He had tried to get his share of the communal meal earlier, but when he had seen young girls running around, screaming and laughing, he had totally lost his appetite. Staring up at the cloudless blue of the sky, he wondered if Aryll’s absence would always cast a cold shadow on him.

He liked it better when he couldn’t properly mourn his family. Earlier in the morning, Link had remembered who had taught him how to cook and sew. It had been his mother, Anith. Brief, faded images flashed through his memory of his catastrophically failed attempts at brewing elixirs and mixing poultices. His mother planted her hands on her hips and shouted at him to clean up the mess. By all the spirits, Link, I am determined to teach you something more practical than how to swing a sword around! Anith had been the village healer, once upon a time. That was how she and Rossin had met.

Link clenched and unclenched his fist, thinking miserably, I finally learned how to make elixirs, Mama.

The memories of his mother had come back as if they had never left at all, soft and worn at the edges and tucked in the corner of his mind. He’d caught other flashes of insight like this, like he was simply finding something he had lost some time ago. It felt almost like a betrayal, an old grief and pain made suddenly fresh and raw again. It killed him that no one knew, that even his own mind treated it like it was no big deal.

It wasn’t like remembering Aryll. That had been like a lynel’s hammer right in the gut. All of the memories from the pictures in the Sheikah Slate were the same way. Even his memory of his childhood in Zora’s Domain was so abrupt and all-consuming that Daruk had had to step in just so he wouldn’t be killed.

It was strange, Link thought. Those flashbacks had been so much more vivid and intense than any of the other old, vague memories he had recovered. Almost like something was pulling them out of his own mind –

“Little vai!” The voice startled him out of his musings. Link glanced to the side to see a visibly intoxicated Ardin stumbling toward him. He grimaced.

“I drew a contract,” Ardin slurred, shoving a paper in the general direction of his face.

“Drew up a contract,” Link automatically corrected. Ardin liked to learn new Hylian phrases from him.

Ardin frowned. “Uh, why would I draw up? That doesn’t make sense.” She scoffed, then leaned even closer to Link. “Reeeeeeead it.”

There was so much alcohol on her breath that Link half suspected he could get drunk from it too. He twisted to the side in an attempt to avoid her bad breath and her bright red hair. She had a lotof hair, and it was somehow getting in his face. It was probably because Ardin was leaning against the wall like she was about to be sick. Link snatched the contract out of her hand before she could throw up all over him.

It almost did look like it had been literally drawn, Link thought with some amusement. The thick parchment was covered in charcoal smears and irregular, lopsided Hylian lettering. It read:

CONTRAC

-The vai gives all heer stuff to me

-Spera is a dum loser

SINGED

Ardin

____________ (vai)

Link could feel a laugh bubbling up inside him, and tamped it down out of principle. He was supposed to be upset, dammit. “Look, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure this contract isn’t legally binding if you can’t even remember my name,” he told Ardin, who was now laying on the dusty ground.

“Spera suuuuuuucks,” groaned Ardin.

“Not to mention you spelled basically every other word wrong,” Link continued.

Ardin’s arm flopped over her face, shielding her eyes from the sun. “She took my drink away,” she whined.

Link eyed her. “Probably a good thing. It’s still morning and you’re already sloshed.”

Ardin glared at him. “I do not have a problem.”

Link arched an eyebrow in response. “Never said you did.”

Ardin mumbled, “Issa festival day,” just as Spera popped out of her booth and sauntered over to them, a bottle of clear liquor in her hand.

“Looking for this?” Spera teased. Link peered at the label and how much of the liquid was already gone, then raised his eyebrows. It was Hebra wildberry gin. The mountaineers made that stuff strong to ward off the cold. And it looked like Ardin had definitely had more than she should have.

Link gave Spera the contract and said, “She called you a ‘dum loser,’ so I assume so.”

Spera smirked as she gave the paper a glance. “You know, this is technically a violation of AGM bylaws.”

Link blinked. “The what now?”

“The Association of Gerudo Merchants,” Spera said innocently. “Why, I could convene a special session right now and still have a quorum, even with half of the town drunk.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

“If Ardin doesn’t take back this contract, we can take away her practicing merchant license and rent her stall to someone else.” Spera’s smile was positively devious. It frightened Link.

He must not have hidden his expression very well, because Spera rolled her eyes and told him, “It’s a joke. The AGM already has a written agreement about how imports from individual registered sellers are to be distributed among AGM members based on demand. Ardin can’t make her own contract violating those terms, but she clearly doesn’t know better right now.”

At Link’s blank look, she gave up trying to explain anything to him and kicked Ardin lightly in the side instead, drawling, “Hey, rehvaq, get up.” Link didn’t know what that word meant, but from Ardin’s grumble, he guessed it was an insult.

Then her words caught up to him, and he incredulously said, “Wait, you merchants cheating me out of all of my stuff has been organized the whole time?”

Spera shot him a glance. He couldn’t tell if it was actually condescending or if she just towered over him. “Well, when you first came here, you confused a blue rupee for a purple one, so we decided not to concern you with the finer details.” Definitely condescension, then.

Ah, yes. The good old days when Link had stumbled around Hyrule while perpetually confused. He had adapted fast when he had awakened in the Shrine of Resurrection. He had to in order to avoid getting murdered by the monsters. But for a long time, the finer points of commerce and social interaction had evaded him. They occasionally still did, he admitted to himself with some embarrassment.

How did anyone keep it all straight? How did you remember the proper Gerudo greeting for each time of the day, each denomination of rupee, the average market value of a lizalfos talon, or how to respond when someone complimented your hair? It was all a mystery to Link. He supposed that before, he’d had nineteen years under his belt to learn that stuff. Honestly, it was unfair to expect him to learn it all again in only one year.

“A purple rupee is fifty, I’m not stupid,” Link blurted out, crossing his arms. He almost cringed after the words left his mouth. Way to sound like an angry kid.

Spera ignored him, electing instead to push Ardin, who was still laying down but now grabbing her legs, away. “By the Heroines, Ardin, you are the most incompetent – “ Spera let out a sharp breath as Ardin groaned and reached her hand up for the bottle of wildberry gin Spera was still carrying. “I’ll strip you of your position of secretary!” she snarled.

Ardin loudly gasped and sat up, wobbling slightly. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would!” Spera shot back. “And so would Isha and Estan!”

The expression of complete and utter betrayal on Ardin’s face was so over-the-top that Link let out a snicker. Both merchants gave him twin irritated looks, and he threw his hands up in surrender. It did not take long for the two merchants to start bickering again, and Link decided to leave them be.

He strolled around the perimeter of the marketplace, mulling over the new information about the Association of Gerudo Merchants. To say his memory was spotty was an understatement, but he somehow knew that such an association didn’t exist a hundred years ago. He bet it had grown out of necessity with the collapse of Hyrule’s royal government. Yunobo had told him that Bludo, the boss of Goron City, was officially the head of the miners’ labor union, but when the Hyrulean ambassadors and administrators stopped coming to the city, Bludo had been given his authority as boss by the Gorons.

All of this would be valuable information for Princess Zelda, when he finally destroyed the Calamity. She would have to rebuild her kingdom, and as the one who had been wandering around it recently, Link would have to help her out in any way he could.

Of course, that was assuming the princess was even still alive. The thought that she might not be chilled him. Very few people still believed she wasn’t dead, but he knew. He had heard her voice call to him from the castle. He refused to believe that she was gone, that the power holding Calamity Ganon back was not just some faint echo from a century gone by. Both for her sake and for all of Hyrule’s sake.

He was so busy getting himself nervous about the Calamity again that he almost collided with a soldier. She shifted her stance and tightened her grip on her spear before she realized who it was. “Sav’otta, Zelda,” she greeted without enthusiasm. “May the blessings of the Heroines light – where is your jewelry?”

Link shrank a bit under the guard’s sudden scrutiny. “Uh, I wasn’t aware that was required.”

The soldier sniffed faintly, her armor clanking as she brought her spear back to her side. “Legend has it that soon after Gerudo Town was first established, a molduking threatened to destroy it. The Heroine of Spirit fought it for seven days and seven nights before she realized that she needed to be creative. Thus, the jewelry.” Her story had the flat, rehearsed feel of a script read off to ignorant tourists.

Link squinted into the crowd, which was now dancing to music from a quartet of Gerudo musicians. The reflections from all the metals and stones made him look away. “Huh? Did she blind it? How are you supposed to blind a giant subterranean sand worm?”

The soldier sighed. Her body language screamed what a stupid question. “No. Moldukings like shiny things. She convinced the Heroine of Skill to give her the stash of gold and jewels she had amassed so she could lay a trap for the molduking.”

“What was in the trap?” Link prodded.

“It depends on who tells you the story,” she told him with a sour look. When she didn’t elaborate, Link huffed and moved on. Hylia, he hadn’t expected her to tell a story like that bard Kass, but did she have to be so terse about it?

There was a large military presence in the town today, he noticed as he continued walking. Spears bristled from every entrance to the marketplace. Soldiers moved around the perimeter of the town like shadows. Had he ever seen guards posted on top of the walls before? They were facing the outside desert, while the guards on the ground cast watchful gazes on the festival-goers. This couldn’t just be security for the holiday, he realized. Festivals brought vulnerability. And where there was vulnerability, the Yiga Clan would be there to exploit it.

But would they really be so bold as to attack a major settlement? They had already attacked Woodland Stable, but the stable didn’t have an army.

Did Riju and Buliara know something he didn’t?

He was startled by the clearing of a throat behind him. He turned to see Captain Teake with an escort of two other soldiers. She was still favoring her injured leg, but she stood tall and proud in an especially ornate and bejeweled set of Gerudo armor. When she shifted, sunlight glinted off of her helmet and made Link squint.

She shifted again and the reflection lessened enough to where Link could see her expression. Her lips were pressed together into a thin line and the look in her eyes was steely. The restrained fury in the way she tightly gripped the pommel of her scimitar made foreboding creep into Link’s stomach.

Teake couldn’t be mad at him, could she? It was probably the Yiga Clan. They were a pain in everybody’s ass. Corralling a bunch of drunk people on a festival day couldn’t be fun either.

“The chief requests your presence immediately,” the captain said tersely. She didn’t stop to wait for Link before she turned and strode to the palace. The crowds parted around her like water, despite being in various states of intoxication. One woman even stumbled backwards into the water framing the central plaza, but Teake didn’t even cast a glance back.

By the time Link and the soldiers finished climbing the steps to the throne room, he was thoroughly nervous and discouraged. Away from all of the drunk and excited festival-goers, he could feel the tension in the air. The soldiers were never too far away from a battle-ready stance and their hands were never too far away from their weapons.

Riju was having a quiet argument with Buliara and a Gerudo covered with a long, sheer gold and purple veil by the throne when Link and Teake entered. They stopped talking as soon as they noticed the newcomers, and Link wanted to shrink under their attention.

“Chief Riju, I present Zelda,” Teake said, curt and almost grudging.

Riju’s gaze was guarded and her posture was stiff. Link felt a wave of guilt crash over him. It suddenly struck him that his reaction to remembering Aryll must have been mystifying for Riju. He’d just stormed out without a single word to the chief, hadn’t he?

Diplomatic. He had to be diplomatic about making amends. The thought of diplomacy made him tense up. Where was Mipha’s kind soul or Zelda’s sharp intelligence when he needed it? He was just a dorky screw-up of a knight, not royalty. Not even a knight anymore, not really. He was some random adventurer with a penchant for killing monsters and accidentally putting innocent people in danger. He was even less than he had been a hundred years ago.

Bolstered by that very comforting thought, he stammered, “Would it be possible to speak in private – “

Buliara interrupted him by slamming the tip of her claymore into the ground. He recognized the anger in her eyes as protectiveness, and his heart sank as he realized that Riju most likely would have told her about his actions the night before. “We do not have time for that!” she practically roared. Link shrank back. He got the message. He would keep his mouth shut. Nerves buzzed in his stomach as he waited for Riju to say something.

What would it be? Hurt? Confusion? Condemnation? Anger? He very nearly averted his eyes, then thought better of it. Goddess curse him, he may not have been the same stoic, capable knight he once was, but he was still better than quaking in front of a thirteen-year-old girl.

But Riju must have heard the pleading in his voice earlier, because she relaxed slightly and her voice was surprisingly gentle when she gestured to the woman in the veil by her side and said, “This is First Priestess Birida. When we are done with our business here, she and I will go down to the plaza and perform the blessings for the Day of Spirit.”

Link nodded hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what Riju was doing. Part of him wanted to think that she was trying to and be charitable after his strange behavior the night before and allow him to explain himself, but another, more irritating part of him thought that he shouldn’t expect anything like that. He was still kicking himself over failing to explain what had happened.

Then Riju placed her hands on the armrests of her throne and leaned forward, a peculiar glint in her eyes. “But first things first. We found your spy,” she said.

Link was surprised, despite himself. “I’m assuming this has something to do with how many soldiers are in town today.”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Riju replied. “We need you to confirm that this woman is in fact the Yiga spy you were talking about.”

Link nodded, and Riju gestured for him to follow her, Buliara and Teake to the barracks. A soldier standing guard in front of a plain wooden door saluted and stood aside for them to pass.

It took several seconds for Link’s eyes to adjust in the dimly lit room. It was barely more than a supply closet, but it had been cleared of all weapons and tools so that a chair could fit.

The Hylian woman who had been giving him funny looks at the Noble Canteen was tied to the chair. Her dark hair was hanging over her face and stuck to her forehead with sweat. She did not look up as they entered.

“Yeah, that’s her, alright,” Link confirmed.

“Excellent,” Riju said. “Now the interrogation can begin.” She sounded much more enthusiastic about that than she should have.

Link heard a low, raspy laugh, and it took him a second to realize it was coming from the Yiga spy. “There’s no need,” she said. She looked up, and Link was startled to find that, although a bruise had swollen one eye nearly shut, her fierce gaze was pinned squarely on him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the spy declared. “The Yiga will attack your town while all your people are too drunk to defend themselves, and they will continue to do so until the Hylian Champion turns himself over to us.”

Link froze. Although she had been speaking to Riju, the spy’s gaze had not left him a single time since she had looked up. Cold fear settled into his limbs like lead. Was she bluffing? They couldn’t possibly be planning to attack such a large settlement…could they?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Teake sizing him up. When he risked a quick glance at her, she was staring straight forward, jaw set and eyes full of repressed fury. She had connected the dots, he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Great, now he was about to get permanently kicked out of Gerudo Town too.

He kept his lips pressed into a thin line as Riju and Buliara asked a few cursory questions about the Yiga Clan’s numbers and plans of attack, but the spy refused to answer any of them. Buliara eventually gave Riju a look, and the chief gestured for Link to leave with her, leaving the soldiers to their interrogation.

Once they reemerged into the bright sunlight, Link made a beeline for the north gate of the town. He couldn’t stay here. If worst came to worst, he could fight his way away from the Yiga – escape their hideout if necessary –

“Zelda!” Riju hissed.

Link reluctantly stopped just outside of the gates. The soldiers flanking them gave him an odd look, but upon seeing their chief, straightened up and turned their gazes forward.

Riju glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just leave! We need your help!”

“No, you don’t.” Link shook his head. He couldn’t quite look at her. “I’m putting you all in more danger by staying here.”

“Zelda, that’s not true! The Yiga Clan would have tried something like this at some point anyway!” Exasperation laced her words. Link had the sense that she was bluffing to make him feel better, but her irritation undermined the effect. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there? Is it something we can help with?”

“I don’t think you understand,” Link said, licking his lips. His throat was very dry.

“Then make me understand,” Riju retorted stiffly. “You can start with explaining why you acted so weird last night!” Her elaborate headdress was skewed, and she adjusted it.

Link spread his arms out, feeling helpless. “I…remembered my sister.”

Riju blinked. “Sister?”

He smiled humorlessly. “That was about my reaction too.”

Understanding dawned on Riju’s face, soon replaced by pity. He hated that look, but at least Riju was someone he could talk to.

It suddenly hit him, the enormity of it all. He had known that he had to have had parents, but he hadn’t remembered a single Goddess-cursed thing about them. And then he remembered them, he remembered how much they loved him and how much they taught him, but he realized that they’d been dead for literally a century and there was nothing he could do about it. But that wasn’t the only thing. He had a sister, and he had no idea. He forgot all about her. And she was dead.

The fury boiling in his blood startled Link. He forced himself to take in deep, ragged breaths. Riju was staring at him, stunned. “Li – Zelda, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. You were obviously upset about something, and Buliara said that you were still upset this morning, but I didn’t know…”

Link hesitated for a long moment. “I really appreciate your friendship, Riju,” he said honestly. “I’m going to Kara Kara Bazaar. Probably less drunk people to put in danger.”

“You will do no such thing,” Riju replied, the heat in her voice startling him. “Kara Kara is practically indefensible. Besides, all the voe go there to get drunk anyway.”

Link sighed. “Fair enough.” Besides, he had left all of his gear in the hotel that morning.

He followed the chief back into the town, and chaos immediately broke loose.

Link heard familiar cackling a second before he heard soldiers barking orders. A mere moment later, he saw the first Yiga footsoldiers appearing right in the middle of the marketplace.

The women in the crowd screamed and stumbled for the entrances to the town, only to find that footsoldiers had materialized there too, keeping them hemmed in.

“Behind me,” he ordered Riju. A footsoldier noticed him and stalked forward, demon carver held at the ready. Link reached back for the handle of his broadsword and met with only air.

Right. He was unarmed.

Fantastic.

Well, he always had the Sheikah Slate at his hip. He unhooked it from his belt and held it out in front of him with two hands like a very small shield.

The footsoldier crouched and tensed, ready to spring forward. Link panicked and did the only thing he could think to do in the heat of the moment. He stabbed his finger at the Stasis rune, pointed the Slate at the Yiga, and clicked the button.

The footsoldier was frozen mid-slash, held in place by glowing, golden chains. Link heard Riju gasp and exclaim behind him, and he couldn’t help the small grin that formed on his face. He hooked the Slate back on his belt, snatched up an empty box that had been sitting next to him, and threw it at the Yiga’s mask with both hands.

A second later, after the box had fallen to the ground, the footsoldier flew backward into a palm tree. The mask splintered and fell off, revealing the bewildered face of a young Hylian man.

“Aw, shit,” the footsoldier said, before scrambling up to his feet and running away. Actually, it was more like stumbling away, after the hit he’d taken to his head.

Link was frozen, just for a second. For all of his warrior instinct and knight training, he’d never been taught to defend the chief of the Gerudo from teleporting assassins. While unarmed.

Then his focus came back, all in a rush. It didn’t matter. He was plenty well-armed, compared to most people in the square. He unhooked the Sheikah Slate and held it at the ready.

Link risked a glance back at Riju. The young chief was clearly taken by surprise, but she’d gotten a scimitar from somewhere and was holding it before her, jaw set. She likely had some minimal self-defense training, knowing Buliara. But he would take no chances.

He took a quick inventory of the scene before him. Yiga footsoldiers were backing civilians into each corner of the town. Link didn’t know why, but he suspected they would be hostages before long. Soldiers were skillfully brandishing spears at them, but the Yiga were just teleporting out of range. The air was full of cackling, shouts, and the fluttering of paper. He noted that the archers on the walls were aiming, but letting loose very few arrows, with such a high chance of hitting their own people.

“To the palace,” he commanded Riju. She nodded and kept close to him as he started to skirt the walls of the town. He ducked into stalls, rather than go around and become a clearer target for the Yiga.

Link hastily scanned the area for things he could use in combat. Bombs were a terrible idea within the city walls, and while there was some water surrounding the raised central dais of the marketplace, Cryonis was rarely useful in combat.

Except – there was a footsoldier ready to lunge across the water, ready to strike at him and Riju. With a sure hand, he flicked to Cryonis and summoned a pillar of ice from the pool of water, just in time for the footsoldier’s demon carver to wedge in it uselessly.

Link took the opportunity to seize Riju’s hand and sprint for the palace. If the Yiga clansmen hadn’t realized he was within the city walls yet, they knew now, judging from the shouts and commotion behind him.

Metal scraped behind him, and he acted on instinct. Daruk’s red barrier formed around him and Riju, just in time for a demon carver to bounce off it, right where Riju’s back would have been.

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Daruk’s voice boomed behind Link. He heard the Goron’s mighty grunt, a solid thwack of a stony fist against something, and a footsoldier’s shriek.

“Long story,” Link called back. “These guys really don’t like me!” He pivoted and froze a lunging footsoldier with Stasis.

“I’ll say!” Daruk laughed, watching the extremely confused footsoldier fall to the ground after a few seconds. “I don’t have much time left. Watch your back, little guy.”

Link nodded, already scanning the plaza for a suitable weapon. His gut twisted when he saw a Gerudo soldier sprawled out on the plaza, unmoving, but the glint of a spear caught his eye. He flicked to Magnesis and brought the spear to him with a twist of his wrists, snatching it out of the air in time to slice a blademaster in the arm.

Blood sprayed into the air, but the blademaster just cracked his neck, unfazed. Link set his jaw and shifted into a defensive stance, Sheikah Slate back on his hip. Daruk was gone now, but he hoped that he had granted Riju enough cover to get to the palace. Behind him, he heard Riju’s and Buliara’s shouts as they hopefully reunited, and that was enough reassurance for him to focus all of his attention on the battle.

Combat raged on all around them, but Link and the blademaster held their positions. They sized each other up. Stillness stretched taut like a bowstring between them.

Then, without warning, the blademaster lunged for him.

Link was ready to sidestep, but his foot caught in a groove between two slabs of stone and pain shot up his leg from his ankle. The wind released from the blade cut across his side, and he hissed. His hand came away from the wound crimson.

Link gritted his teeth against the pain. Dumb, rookie mistake. It wasn’t his fault that his vai clothes made absolutely terrible armor, but he kicked himself all the same. He straightened and hefted the spear again, ignoring the way the blademaster cockily rolled his shoulders.

The blademaster punched the ground. A blood-red rune burned in the air above him. Link felt wind fluttering his clothes and snapped out his paraglider. As he rose into the air, he tucked his legs up to his chest, just in time to avoid the pillar of stone that had erupted from the ground.

Link angled the paraglider forward and fell into an aerial strike. He thrust the spear home, and it pierced through the blademaster’s shoulder. Link fell to the ground gracelessly and stumbled backwards, suppressing his nausea born of pain and the knowledge that he’d just stabbed an actual person. The blademaster groaned and warped away in a burst of fluttering papers. The Gerudo spear he’d been stabbed with clattered to the ground.

Link chanced a glance behind him and saw that Buliara and some other guards had formed a protective circle around Riju. He exhaled. He tried to break into a run for the spear, but he nearly collapsed as his twisted ankle failed to support his weight. He ignored the throbbing pain lancing up his leg and managed to stumble to the spear, scooping it up.

He had to get to his weapons in Hotel Oasis. Most importantly, his shield. There was no way he would be able to defend himself without it in this condition.

It was only twenty feet to the hotel. Link had no idea how he managed to drag himself all the way there without being completely beset by footsoldiers. Arrows flew by him, but not a single one hit its target. Inside the relative safety of the hotel, he flopped down on his bed for the second it took to snatch up the rest of his gear.

Once he limped out of the hotel, he found out why he hadn’t already been killed on the way there.

A row of Yiga clansmen formed a rough semicircle around the entrance to Hotel Oasis. He was blocked in.

“Hylian Champion,” a blademaster in the center declared in a booming voice. “It gives us no pleasure to kill innocents.”

“But you certainly enjoy stealing from them!” came Spera’s angry shout from somewhere beyond the circle. Link paled. Was she alright? His vision was growing a bit fuzzy at the edges, and he couldn’t quite tell what was going on with the Gerudo. Had all of the soldiers already been subdued?

“What? No. No way. Shut up,” the blademaster blustered, irritated by her outburst. “That’s beside the point! The pointis, if you don’t come with us, we’ll be forced to resort to violence.”

Resort to violence.Link snorted. But he realized that the blademaster had a point. Link was in no shape to get out of this alive if he tried to continue the fight. The best thing he could do for the Gerudo would be to cooperate. For now.

“And I have your assurance that no one in the town will be harmed, not even the chief?” Link asked. He propped himself up with the spear in an effort to take some weight off his bad ankle.

“Ganon’s blood, we’re assassins, not savages!” the blademaster cried indignantly. “We don’t attack children!”

Link raised an eyebrow and stared at the blademaster until he amended, “Sure, fine, we won’t hurt anyone. Even that super annoying lady over there.”

He pointed, and Link craned his head to see Ardin sprawled out on the ground, grabbing onto a footsoldier’s ankles and sobbing. She was obviously still drunk. “Oh, no,” Link murmured. Spera was on the other side of the plaza, being restrained by another footsoldier. He hoped they would both be alright. They were his friends, even if they were also annoying, cutthroat merchants.

Link tried to take a deep breath and was stopped short by the cutting pain in his side. He felt the eyes of the Gerudo and Yiga on him. He was shaking, and the silk of his clothes was starting to stick to his body with blood and sweat. He was sure that some of the Gerudo had already figured out that the Hylian Champion was never a vai, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Fine,” he bit out. Anger simmered in his belly. “But don’t expect me to walk around in the desert after I twisted my ankle, for Hylia’s sake.”

The blademaster turned to the footsoldier on his right and murmured something. The footsoldier jogged off to the front gate of the town.

An assassin came at Link from the side, and he smacked the footsoldier’s hand away before he realized that she was trying to lend a hand. Link immediately swung his spear behind him and held his hands up before he could get murdered.

He limped behind the blademaster, casting guilty, sidelong glances at all the Gerudo. They mainly looked too exhausted to be angry with him. They were probably happy that he was leaving, given that he was the reason they were at risk. The Gerudo outnumbered the Yiga Clan, but too many of them were drunk civilians for them to be an effective force. Footsoldiers were holding blades against the Gerudo soldiers’ throats. It seemed that fighting within the walls of the town had been a weakness; the Yiga had been able to back the normally very competent soldiers into a literal corner.

And now Link himself was backed into a corner. He caught the gaze of Captain Teake, who was paler than normal. The wound on her leg had reopened, soaking the bandage through, and she was sagging against a wall. Link thought she was chewing something at first, but as he got closer, he realized she was mouthing something. He blinked a few times until he could parse it.

Rito Village, she said. Go to Rito Village.

Link gave her the barest hint of a nod, and her mouth stopped moving.

A harnessed sand-seal was waiting outside the gates for him. The footsoldier who had tried to help him earlier took the lead rope and tied it to his belt. “Sit on your shield,” she ordered him, and so he did, feeling relief as he finally took his weight off his twisted ankle.

“Sorry about all this,” she added, quieter.

“Why in Farosh’s name do you care?” Link snapped. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

The footsoldier glanced at the blademaster, before hesitantly answering, “The Lady said – “

“Hey, don’t tell him that!” another footsolder shouted, before the blademaster raised his hand in a call for silence.

“The Golden Lady can explain her intent for the Champion herself,” the blademaster said, with the air of someone who had already fielded this question a million times.

“Huh? Golden Lady?” Link demanded with the little breath he could comfortably take into his lungs. “I thought you guys were into the smoke thing with the pig head. Are you talking about Kohga’s replacement?”

The blademaster groaned. “Enough questions for now. Let’s just get to the hideout.” He waved his group forward, and about half of the footsoldiers who were there warped away.

They’re underestimating me, Link thought with a grim smile.

As the blademaster took hold of the sand-seal’s reins and started them forward at a walking pace, Link pushed his ankle slightly against the rim of the shield to test how well it would hold up. Not very well, the pulsing pain told him. He winced.

Instead, he waited until they were a safe distance away from the town. He summoned the familiar fury, much easier than usual in the wake of the attack on Gerudo Town. It dulled his aches and pains and he almost saw double.

He reached his arm out in front of him, and one of the Yiga gave him a quizzical glance. Before anyone could react, Link snapped his fingers.

Urbosa appeared in a flare of light. Although her golden outline was barely visible against the yellow dunes, Link could almost see her furious expression as she quickly took in the situation.

“Seven sands,” she snarled as the Yiga Clan members shouted in alarm and pulled out their weapons. Urbosa let out a stream of what Link assumed were foul insults in Gerudic, then raised her arm to the sky.

Lighting rained down on the Yiga, more intense and blinding than Link had ever seen it. “Go!” Urbosa roared at him over the crashing of thunder.

He did not need to be told twice. The blademaster fell to the ground in agony and dropped the sand-seal’s reins. Link snapped the rope tied to his belt, and the sand-seal surged forward into the desert.

Link almost fell flat on his face before he gripped onto the sides of his shield. Shield surfing was much less fun when he was sitting down. Sand sprayed into his face, and for once, he was glad of the veil covering his mouth.

With some careful maneuvering, he wedged his feet into the handles of the shield and pulled himself into a crouch. It was slow and difficult. His body was not cooperating the way he wanted it to.

The sand-seal swam over a dune. Link’s stomach dropped out from under him as the shield came off the sand for a brief moment. The shield swung wildly to one side, and Link pulled on the rope hard enough to pull himself to his feet.

His ankle almost gave out on him, and he dropped into an awkward crouch. The wind tore at his clothes. He wobbled. He couldn’t keep going like this. He would eventually fall off.

A Yiga rune flared in his peripheral vision, and he immediately snapped the rope. The sand-seal dove under the sand and rushed forward, almost yanking Link off his shield. Twin arrows whistled through the air a mere foot away from his head and speared the sand.

The Yiga had found him.

The sand-seal was traveling in a small valley between two dunes. Several more archers were appearing just up ahead. Link braced himself for the inevitable pain, and leaned hard to one side. He carved up a dune and the sand-seal swung in the opposite direction. This time, an arrow grazed his calf, and he bit back a curse.

Now he was headed straight for a cluster of ruins. His heart sank as he saw archers perched on the crumbling arches. He didn’t have time to make a sharp turn. It was the end of the road for him.

Link yanked hard on the rope, and the sand-seal came to a halt. He stumbled forward and fell off his shield. Thankfully, no one was shooting at him. Yet.

“Would you stop that?” one of the archers yelled.

“Stop what?” Link retorted to buy time. Goddess, he really, reallyhated what he was about to do.

“Escaping us!” said the archer. Link unhooked the Sheikah Slate from his belt and scrolled to the map. “Hey, stop messing with the Slate!” the archer continued, aiming her bow at his face.

Link ignored that comment. “Well, it’s too bad you don’t like that, because I’m about to do it again.” He hit the button cued up on the Slate.

As the world around him dissolved into streaks of incandescent blue, he allowed himself to savor the indignant shouting of the Yiga archers that he could still hear. It was the most enjoyment he’d get for a while, he predicted.

Rito Village, here I come.

[daydreamerspeaksout]

Day 3: The Witch

Let me tell you the story of the worst experience I had with a manager who was just miserable every single day of her life.

A Bit of Background:

I started working my very first job in 2014 at BJ's Wholesale Club, I will not mention the club number or the location for privacy reasons. Let's just say that it's still pretty newish since it's been there for 7 years. Moving on...

So I have had a lot of managers move through here and have experienced bad and good managers. But the witch topped them all. I met this woman about 3 years, almost 4 years ago [had I stayed there but I didn't]. When a new manager comes in, you expect an introduction from them and expect a nice meet and greet. Yeah, this woman was never shown how to do that or she just didn't care to introduce herself. My first time meeting her, she started off on the wrong foot because she thought I wasn't doing my job. I was in the liquor store part of our club and it was almost holiday season. So we had shelves being set up to sell gift sets of various liquors that we sell. My coworker told me to not worry about trying to put the bottles/boxes up, he still had no clue of the lay out. I was like cool, no problem I won't touch anything.

So when the witch was doing her walk through to see the club and "meet" the employees, she popped in here and already was making demands. "Why is this not up? Why are you behind the counter and not fixing this up?" She proceeded to fix the only gift set we had there which was Jack Daniel's with a 2 Liter Coke bottle. I was gonna tell her what my coworker had told me but she just kept rambling on about how I should be setting this up. I never did set it up, to be honest because the layout was still being discussed.

My first impression of this woman, she thinks she owns the place and she never formally introduced herself to me or any one for that matter. I didn't find out her name until about two weeks later when I spoke with coworkers. They all had the same thought and I'm sure the other managers had those same thoughts as well but they had to put a mask on to hide their true feelings.

The Witch:

Most likely around my age may be just a bit older than me, so mid 30s. She is second in command so when the GM is gone, she becomes the temporary GM. Personality: bitchy and miserable and she can suck the life of you at work. Married to a nice man, don't know how he puts up with her and her attitude. When she smiles it's fake because when she walks away the smile automatically disappears. She knows no happiness and she has no clue what that means.

My Worst Experience Ever:

I wore many hats at BJ's and worked in almost all the positions they had there. This job position I was in felt more like a punishment and if you end up there, you are bored out of your mind. The job title: Front Door Loss Prevention, basically two people at the front door of the store, one to check the receipts and one to greet the customers. I hated that job with a passion because my feet would hurt badly, I would be bored most of the time, just standing there sometimes waiting for the time to go by. Time went by really really slowly.... like a turtle, a sloth, just pure agony for me. This particular day I was stuck with a lady who worked in the clothing department but she was placed to close at the front door with me. She had some training but at least I could talk to her whenever it wasn't busy.

She had told me about a regular customer that comes in almost every day with her daughter in a wheel chair and her reusable bags where she places her groceries in. She told me of an incident that occurred about a week ago with this customer. Apparently she stuffed some deli meats in her purse and the deli lady had seen it. The deli lady told this to her (the clothing lady) and told her that she needed to check the purse which was a command that I believe the witch had said to tell the clothing lady. She was at the door for some reason probably covering a break or what not, she told me that she had to check the purse and there it was deli meats that were not paid for. The customer claims that she had forgotten she stuffed them there and tried to pass it off as not a big deal. In the end, they let her go but whenever she would come they would check all of her bags including the purse.

So this customer tries to avoid this by coming in close to when the store would close. I was the one who had to check it that night because the clothing lady would not do it again. I was placed in an uncomfortable position, something I didn't want to do. All EYES were on me because believe it or not, the witch was there and so was the HR lady. I had to force myself to do it, in a polite way too. This, of course, offended the customer and caused her to ask me "who is the manager?" I answered the witch's name. The customer wanted to know the witch's name she even nodded her head in that spot where the witch was standing at. This did not go well for all the parties involved especially for me because when I left that night I felt like I was the one who was at fault, when I truly wasn't.

All hell broke loose when I left to do the walk around of the store which is part of the closing time routine. When I came back I was interrogated because of what I said and what I mentioned. Number one I was instructed and told that I needed to check her purse and yes I had mentioned that to the lady because I didn't want to lie. Again I was uncomfortable and nervous to do something that is against my nature. The Witch said that I should've pointed at the sign by the door that we check all bags and lunchboxes. It doesn't mention purses, besides isn't it illegal to check someone's purse? Number two I said the manager's name which she wanted to know and according to the witch I should've said the GM name. The GM never works at night time and the manager she was curious about was the witch who was the closing manager. Number three the customer did try to twist my words and thankfully I had a supervisor who defended me on that. The HR lady took my side at least and because of how I am, why would I put my job on the line for a stupid customer. I had this back and forth with the witch trying to make her see that I did not like the situation I was in and she needed to man up and take the responsibility that you commanded an employee to that act.

Her words to me "You shouldn't have said my name and I am not a manager....." I am sorry but you wear a manager tag and walk around like you rule the world. Now when this situation has happened you should've put your big girl pants and take it. A manager is suppose to have their employees back plus this customer wasn't stupid. She has seen you walking around the store and at the front talking to cashiers and taking care of the line at self checkout. Don't be an idiot and try to blame an employee for this. I almost wanted to tell her so why are you a managers? Why wear the tag? I wanted to leave there quickly so I didn't stay to argue and prove my point with this woman. The HR lady tried to defuse the problem and tried to make her see that I did things by the book, at least. One thing the HR lady saw was I was close to tears when I was punching out. I didn't want to break down in front that woman, the witch. She didn't deserve the tears or to see them. Honest to God, I almost quit that night.

I sped walk so fast to my car and didn't look back. When I got in my car, the tears just came out.... I just let it all out and I know that this lady didn't deserve them but the amount of frustration I had that night. The fact that it was the worst day ever.... it's seared in my mind. I had never felt that bad for something that wasn't my fault. For being putting on the spot over checking a purse. For the witch practically believing and almost taking the side of the accused customer. For feeling like I did things wrong all the time with this woman. I had a long conversation on the phone with my boyfriend, he just let me let it all out basically. I told him everything about the night and how it all went down. I drove home with tears coming down nonstop and just cried angrily while talking about it. It showed me some people in this world are just miserable and enjoy spreading it.

I didn't quit. I waited... Timing is everything for me.

I bid my time and waited for a better opportunity. A better option. It's like God sent it to me when I needed it the most. Amazon is a breeze compared to what I went through at BJ's Wholesale Club. I have a feeling that a lot of the managers there thought I would be back but nope, 3 almost 4 months strong at Amazon.

The take away from this story.... Don't let someone like that get to you and wait for the perfect time to leave. IF I had quit that night, I would probably have been jobless for a good couple of months. I won't have been able to buy a car (twice, that's another story) or even have saved up money to travel places. Yeah.. may be... eventually... I would have ended up at Amazon but still trying make ends meet. So timing is everything too. How I managed to stay there and continue on... the witch left to deal with some family stuff. So they sent a lady to temporarily replace her. So when it came time to give my two weeks notice I was able to give them to a nice person. They thanked me for my years of working there.... the witch would probably not have said anything.

Good riddance to her.... Yeah this scarred me for a bit, I have healed and moved on. You guessed it, I did get emotional thinking about it but that's just who I am. With that I leave you with "What's the Big Idea?"

[maxsmusicmacrology]

Oh Yes it is Christmas Music Time

Hey! Y’all ready for some motherfuckin CHRISTMAS MUSIC? That’s right, we’re approaching the tail end of November so it’s time for the same 40 Christmas songs to be played on every radio station. But, like, let’s talk about that. Yes, it’s repetitive and pretty homogenous, but that’s true of any song that gets a lot of play over the span in a few months. Remember last year when Old Town Road was in the top 40 for seventeen weeks? Christmas music is around for half that long, and there’s so much more of it. Besides, the two largest offenders are major retailers and radio stations, and we live in a world where radio is functionally obsolete and we probably won’t be doing much shopping anyway. In the year of 2020, is Christmas music really that bad? Well, that’s a matter of circumstance or opinion. Yes, we all have much bigger issues, but I’d like to take a deeper dive into the world of Christmas music. Fortunately for me, Wikipedia (something something not proper academic source w/e w/e who cares) has already compiled a table of the 30 most played Christmas songs of 2015.

While that is the chart for just one year, I compared it to listings from a few other years and the songs are largely the same. And also… just look at it. These are 100% the same songs that were played in 2007 and 2010 and 2013 and 2018 and will go on to be played this year… with one anomaly. 2015 is the first year All I Want for Christmas is You made the top 30, despite being written more than two decades previous in 1994.

If you take a look at the years the other songs were released, you may start to understand what took Mariah Carey so long to make the list. Of the 30 songs on the list, only 5 of them were written in the 70s or later, with All I Want for Christmas as the second most recent song on the list (and more importantly, the most recent original composition). A vast majority of the songs were written in the 30s-60s, and have become an integral part of American Christmas because… uh… why, exactly?

Randall Munroe had a hypothesis that he expressed in his popular webcomic XKCD:

He’s likely on to something here. Songs get popular because… that’s what they do. As the baby boomers grew up, they wanted to feel nostalgic with the songs they grew up with, and because there were so many of them, their childhood songs got requested on the radio more and more, and then a new cohort of children grow up with those Christmas songs too. What’s popular goes on to become more popular. This in turn makes it harder for new songs to break in: there’s new Christmas singles every year, and some of them do get radio play, but with this endless wall of “essential Christmas songs” it’s impossible for anything new to break in.

But let’s go back to the original question: so what? There’s traditions that society at large does every holiday season: stores decorate themselves with red and green, cities hang up lights, networks play Christmas specials endlessly. Hearing these same songs is just one of those traditions. The problem is that blindly replaying these same few songs doesn’t leave room for anything better to come through.

For the other ten months of the year, songs compete with each other for radio play and for attention on streaming services. It’s far from an outright meritocracy, but on some level it’s relatively fair: songs trend on the top few spots while they’re popular, then when people get tired of it or start to like something else more, the popular song fades away and the new song gets popular. It has some of the same issues, popular songs receive a burst of popularity by virtue of being popular, but the culture around Christmas music takes it to the extreme: the same few dozen songs get popular every year, and if the label still owns the rights to it then it pumps their pockets full of money and blocks anything new from coming.

This would, theoretically, be a good place to end. I give some generic platitude about not holding on so tight to established traditions and listening to something different this Christmas, link a playlist of winter-sounding Nintendo music, and we move on. But what’s the fun in that? We haven’t even analyzed the content of the songs yet!

When I was originally planning this assignment, I was going to sort each different song into categories like “romance” “winter weather” “commercialism”, etc. Fortunately, Wikipedia did that for me! The largest category is, fittingly, “traditions”. These songs include It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, Blue Christmas, and Home for the Holidays. For the most part, this seems like a catch-all category to encompass anything that the other categories don’t include, songs that are about Christmas as a concept. Interestingly enough, these are almost exclusively (with only one exception) from the 50s and 60s, a sort of “second era” of Christmas music. These songs essentially look back at the 30s and 40s songs and lift themes from those to make quintessential Christmas songs.

This category isn’t especially interesting, so let’s move on to “Mythical”, so named because the songs within create or perpetuate the mythology around Christmas- Santa Claus and his flying sleigh delivering presents. These songs are essentially oral traditions passed down through music about “the magic of Christmas”. Remember that phrase for later.

What I’m especially interested in examining are the categories “seasonal” and “celebratory”. Seasonal songs are simple, they’re (usually) upbeat songs written about how nice it is that winter’s here. Most commonly they’re about snow, cold weather, and going inside to get out of the cold weather. If you were in orchestra, band, or choir from fourth grade into middle school, you’re probably familiar with most of these.

Celebratory songs are the most interesting- they’re about celebrating the joy of Christmas, and by nature of becoming part of the Christmas Experience, they have essentially turned Christmas into a celebration of itself. The omnipresence of these songs ensures that every radio station and storefront is full of the celebration of Christmas.

“So what?” you may be thinking. “Is little miss Grinch here gonna complain about that too?” Well, kind of. For the next few months, the joy of Christmas is going to be literally fucking everywhere, and most of you are probably going to be pretty happy about that. I’m pretty happy about that- Christmas takes place during the literal darkest days of the year, just four days after the winter solstice, and I certainly enjoy having all the decorations to light up the darkness. I even enjoy some of the common Christmas songs to an extent, and because they’ve been around forever they can certainly make me feel nostalgic.

But Christmas doesn’t just spread joy, it demands it. If you’re miserable around Christmas, people begin to think there’s something wrong with you. More importantly, when someone’s unhappy and everyone else is joyous, they begin to think there’s something wrong with them. People suffering from depression or seasonal affective disorder, people who are stressed out and beaten down by life, people who have bad memories associated with winter or Christmas aren’t just going to be unhappy during the season, they’re going to feel alienated by the world around them demanding joy. YouTuber Renegade Cut said it best: “nothing is more miserable than being around happy people”.

In fact, he said most things better than I can, so I highly recommend taking a few minutes to watch his video about misery in the time of Christmas to get a sense of what I’m talking about here.

Again, if Christmas and its associated traditions make you happy, that’s good. We can all use some happiness right now, and we should seek it out where we can. But we’re living in the middle of a pandemic, we’re on the tail end of a horrific presidency, those of us demanding social change have been shut down time and time again, many of us may be spending Christmas without family for the first time. If you’re not happy on Christmas, that’s okay too. There’s nothing wrong with you if it doesn’t make you happy. Don’t try to force it. Stay inside and listen to something somber if that’ll help. Sadness is an important emotion to feel sometimes.

And for those of you who want something wintry that doesn’t ask you to celebrate, here’s what I’m listening to as my kickoff to the Holiday season.

Links used:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_music#United_States - most played Christmas songs.

https://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/tradition.png - xkcd comic

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfAJN5vAYmA - Merry Christmas from Renegade Cut

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdmoSNgYxwY - Shadowatnoon Winter Music Collection