#Addison Tree Service

[addisontxtreeservice]

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[0blobthefish0]

Could you do a part 3 for One last time? (Preferably happy end)

amelia shepherd masterlist | main masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

One Last Time Part 3

Amelia Shepherd x Female Raeder 3,268 words

You had been fired. Fired from your corporate job, the awkward walk with a box full of your stuff in your hands - only to be seen in movies - was real and you were embarrassed beyond belief. In all fairness you hadn't been fired, you had been cut, but it might as well have been the same thing; you were still without a job.

Your friend stared at you with a frown as she watched you let out another dramatic sigh over the situation you had found yourself in. The two of you had already talked about how unhappy your previous job had made you: the endless hours, the never changing days, the strict dress code and the entitled men. God, you never wanted to go back into a job like that ever again.

"Babysit." Your friend blurted out. You turned your head and raised a singular brow at her that read the word 'really?' "Don't look at me like that, Isaac loves you."

"He fell out of a tree." You dead-panned which made her laugh, but you serious what if Isaac hadn't been so lucky?

"Eh- it was his own fault. Kids are tough." She shrugged as she took a sip of her wine. "You've been there ever since Isaac was born, helping where you could even before his dad left." She stood up and patted your knee, "Think about it, I think you'd do great." She told you as she walked off into the kitchen.

That night you had spent your time researching, and the more that you had, the more that the thought of babysitting became no longer just a thought but something tangible - something truly obtainable. Over the course of a few months, you had begun your journey - training the skills you'd need for your new job. And then you had started your first, official, babysitting job; and you loved it. Every day was something new, it was exciting, bringing something into your life that you hadn't realised had even left - joy. Only after a few months of servicing the standard babysitting, you had decided to switch to a company that focused on providing for those who had more taxing jobs: firefighters, entrepreneurs, paramedics, those who have to travel for work and, of course, surgeons, nurses and doctors.

You checked once again that you had the correct address and pressed a finger to the doorbell; you heard a dull clatter and then the click-clacking of heels on a hard floor before the door swung open. A tall, red-headed woman stood in front of you, a slightly stressed smile on her face as she quickly welcomed you in. Addison Montgomery. You had met before, for your compatibility test, a key part in the hiring process - especially when you'd be spending a lot more time with her son than the regular babysitter. The second you had met Henry, you fell in love with him. So young, but already had such a big character.

"Henry's sleeping right now, just in that room over there, all of his things are in here, there's food in the fridge if you wanna cook or there's money if you'd like to order something," Addison said hurriedly as she gave you a very quick tour of the ground floor of the ocean-side house. "Again, I'm so sorry to call you so late, it's just that I got paged and-" she let out a nervous laugh and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"It's no problem, it is my job after all," you replied and sent her a comforting smile as you followed her to the door. "Now, you should really get going, you have nothing to worry about. I can even send updates if you'd like?" You offered, she was a first-time mum, leaving your child in the care of somebody else was stressful, especially the first time around.

"That'd be perfect, really, I cannot thank you enough." Her eyes flicked to her watch and she stepped outside her door, "okay thank you so, so much, I have to go." You lingered by the door as she ran toward her door, and just as you were about to turn away you heard her shout. "Another person lives here too, just so you don't freak out or anything if she does come home!" You gave her a thumbs up as she rolled up the window and sped off into the night.

▫▫▫

"ADDISON!" Amelia shouted as she stood in front of the open fridge, a hand on each door, as she eyed a tub of leftover pasta.

"Gosh, I'm right here," Addison lightly scolded as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. Amelia looked over her shoulder sheepishly and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Can I eat this?" She questioned holding up the tub.

"Yeah," Addison replied with a wave of her hand as she put away Henry's toys that were littered across the floor. Amelia scooped out a portion into her bowl before pushing it into the microwave, almost instantly a divine smell wafted out from behind the door as it heated up her meal. As Amelia shovelled a forkful into her mouth she let out a delighted hum.

"God, this is amazing, who cooked this?" She gasped as she pushed more into her mouth. "Cause it definitely wasn't you." Addison rolled her eyes as she shook her head in reply to Amelia's stab at her.

"Why do you say it like I can't cook?" Addison huffed to which Amelia only raised a brow. "The new babysitter cooked it last night, she's really good with Henry, she's perfect honestly. I was so glad she was able to come on such short notice yesterday."

"Well, you should give her a raise because this," she pointed at the pasta with her fork, "is art." As Amelia swallowed another forkful, she couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia; little did she know that, not even twelve hours earlier, you had been dancing around the kitchen singing to Henry as you chopped up a few tomatoes.

▫▫▫

It had been a month after your first night with Henry and Addison couldn't be happier- you were a big help, always being available for when she was suddenly called in for an emergency. Amelia, however, was yet to meet Addison's god-sent babysitter.

You pushed the key into the lock and quickly shut the door behind you. Addison wasn't home; she had called you saying that she was needed at the hospital and to let yourself in as she wasn't going to be there because her sister was home. You hang your coat on the rack before making your way to Henry's room to check on him, the steady pitter-patter of the shower sounded throughout the house, a telltale sign that somebody else was here. Henry was sleeping soundly and so you started on cleaning the kitchen in preparation of cooking Addison's request for that night.

Amelia stepped out of the shower, her hair wet as she wrapped a towel around herself and tiptoed outside of the bathroom. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on a door. Just a door, it had been there when she got in and it was there now as she was stepping out. Her brows furrowed as she stared at it. Though still ajar, the door was less ajar than she had remembered. Now, if Amelia hadn't known that she was alone she wouldn't have given it a second thought. But she did and she grew more nervous as each second went by. A clang echoed from downstairs and Amelia felt her heartbeat quicken.

With caution, Amelia stepped down the stairs and peeked through the bannisters for a glimpse of the intruder, but saw nothing. With a deep, soundless, breath, she slinked down the remainder of the stairs and tip-toed her way through the corridor, the clanging getting louder. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and froze. One second passed and then another, stretching for much longer than she thought was possible before a figure shot though the air and smashed into the window, causing Amelia to jump backward.

A bird. Amelia felt herself relax, the towel slacking around her shoulders. After a few more seconds, she saw as the poor bird picked itself up from the floor and hurtled, once again, full force at the window, wincing as she heard the familiar crash and thump. She needed a towel in order to help the bird out and so she started for the kitchen. Little did she know that you were in there, recovering from being 'attacked' by the bird and just about to grab the hand towel from the rack, edging closer and closer to each other without evening knowing it.

Amelia rounded the corner; and let out a frightened shout. Clasping a hand over her chest as she heaved in oxygen. "Jesus fuck!"

"Amelia?" You almost shouted, but there was really no need - you knew that voice anywhere.

"Y/n!" She gaped in shock causing her hand to slip on its hold on the towel ever so slightly. You felt your cheeks reddening at her appearance; damp hair, bright eyes and glowing skin which was only covered by a small towel.

"I um, yeah, what-" your eyes widened and pointed blindly with your thumb behind you- "Addie." Your realisation hit you like a brick, you were working for the Addison, the same Addison that was Amelia's found sister. You watched as Amelia nodded her head that same pout on her lips that she always did, some things never changed.

"You're the babysitter," Amelia hummed as she came to her own revelation. Comically, Henry's cries sounded throughout the kitchen from the monitor and you quickly excused yourself and disappeared, not before Amelia stole a quick look at you leaving. A small smile overcoming her lips before it quickly fell with the widening of her blue eyes.

▫▫▫

Time could not move more quickly; Henry was already a year old and you and Amelia had been dancing around each other for many months. As she became more comfortable around you, you couldn't help but recognise more of her old self; the small habits, the little mannerisms and the quick facial expressions. God, you felt like a teenager again. Falling for the same person.

You fell back onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh - getting Henry down was proving much harder now that he had the physical ability to explore, it being all that he wanted to do - and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. As you flicked through the endless number of films and shows you heard keys to the front door jingle before it cracked open. Heavy boots echoed throughout the silent room, only lit by the light from the television, as they moved closer. You already knew who it was; you could pick her out in a room, blind.

"Y/n!" She greeted with her wide grin as she threw her keys onto the counter.

"How was work?" You questioned as she passed you, kicking off her shoes and falling back onto the sofa next to you. So close her thigh was pressed up against yours, the heat of her skin blooming across yours causing your cheeks to burn ever so slightly.

"It was alright, nothing too special, just one aneurysm after the other," she mumbled before reaching over you to grab a handful of crisps. "What're we watching?" She nodded, mouth full, toward the screen.

"Oh-" you let out, quickly directing your attention away from her, "nothing yet." You felt Amelia turn to you, raising a brow and taking the remote from you, and before you could protest, music sounded throughout the room. "What's this?"

"Something good," she replied, eyes already glued to the screen, and you couldn't help the smile pulling at the corners of your lips before turning to stare at the same screen.

Your skin was burning - not like how it does when it touches something just out of the oven, but more as if you had been struck by lightning. You felt static. Amelia had inched further, cuddling into your side as your hand rested on her waist; how it happened? You didn't know. The scene displayed in front of you was serene, romantic, like a field of wildflowers and your skin was tingly - like the feeling of holding something that was about to fall. You felt her shift softly beside you and you turned your head, only for your breath to hitch, her blue eyes already on yours. You searched her eyes, as music began to play, and watched intently as they flicked to your lips. You mirrored her movements. Heart steadily picking up speed. Lup-dup. Her tongue poked out to wet her bottom lip. Lup-dup. You did the same. Lup-dup. Your eyes connected; and she began to lean in. Lup-dup, lup-dup. Your hand pulled her in further and her fingers lightly touched your collar bone. Lup-dup, lup-dup, lup-dup. Her soft lips met yours, your eyes fluttered closed, and the two of you moved rhythmically like a song remembered only once it begins to play. Her hands feeling across the top of your chest before she found purchase on your shoulders as she unconsciously swung a leg over your lap to straddle you.

And then the two of you jolted away. Henry's cries blaring through the room. Cutting sharply through your moment. Her chest heaved in time with yours as she stared down at you with her pupil-blown eyes. You swallowed nervously and Henry let out his second wave of screams.

Soundlessly, Amelia slid off of your lap and sat cross-legged on the sofa as she watched you send her a nervous smile and hurriedly make your way up to the baby. Leaving her picking at her pink, swollen lips - courtesy of you - with a shit-eating grin on her face.

You didn't see Amelia until a week later when you were pushed into a storage cupboard.

"There's a special thing happening at mummy's work today and you get to meet all of her friend's kids," you answered Henry's question as you pulled his top over his head. "You're gonna make a ton of new friends today, Henry." You promised him before you scooped him up in your arm and swung his bag onto your other shoulder.

You hear the sound of a loud horn come from outside and you quickly rushed down the stairs and out the door to see the Uber that you had asked for waiting just outside the house. You gave Henry his dummy after you strapped him securely into the back seat, before climbing into the passenger's side as you apologised for being late.

After a few moments of awkward silence - only filled by the low rumble of the engine and the constant noise of the outdoors - the driver, John, turned to you. You gave him a quick smile as he found the words to say, before he shook his head and continued the journey just as it had started.

You saw the hospital come into view and you quickly checked the time only for your eyes to widen, Addison was going to kill you. As soon as the car rolled to a stop you leapt out of the passenger door and pulled open the back door to unclip Henry from the seat and pull him up into you. "Thank you! Wait-" you started as you began to rummage through the pockets in your trousers, "here." You pushed a note into the man's hand and you moved to close the door.

"Is he yours?" The driver questioned, pausing you from closing the door fully. You could hear the judgement in his voice; you looked younger than you were, but to have that firsthand account of prejudice just because you had a baby with you - you couldn't believe it.

"No." You said bluntly with a scowl and closed the door shut, harder than you normally would, and turned forcefully on your heel into the hospital. Addison was the first person to greet you, taking Henry from your arms, before she guided you to the nursery quickly.

"Where have you been, Y/n?" She questioned your tardiness.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry! But I couldn't find Henry's dummy this morning and he did not want to wear his clothes today. And! That Uber driver definitely thought I was Henry's mother and was definitely judging me for it. I could see it in that man's eyes, y'know?" You rambled as you skipped every other step just to catch up with her.

Addison sent you a sad smile and then she was pushing through the door to the nursery. Your mood instantly brightened, it was as if a paint factory had exploded; the kids were dipping their hands and feet into paint and pressing them into the white walls - with the help of an adult of course.

"Addison, I'll just put the bags here and be in my way," you walked to the collection of bags in the corner and squatted down as you checked that Henry had everything he needed.

"You can stay if you'd like," Addison urged. "You know that Henry adores you," she frowned as she made Henry look at you."

"Awwh I'm really sorry, Henry, but I've got something nice in the oven." You looked over to Addison, "Your favourite," and you watched as her face lit up as she hummed at the thought.

"Okay, fine, say bye-bye to Y/n," she told him as she moved his hand to wave goodbye. You let out a wide grin as you said your goodbyes and left the nursery.

You paused. Mentally bashing yourself for not looking around as you had previously followed Addison through the hospital. You squinted, telling yourself that you did in fact know the way before taking one step after the other.

You were lost. Definitely lost. And where was everyone? Weren't you in a hospital? You let out a deep breath before continuing on your journey, when a familiar figure came from behind a corner.

"Amelia!" You sighed happily as you began to move to her side. She looked serious and you slowed down slightly, but she was still coming closer.

"Hi," she began when she was close enough to put a hand on your back and guide you, quite forcefully you'll admit, into a storage cupboard. The door closed behind her.

"Woah! What, hello?" Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes searched Amelia for answers.

"Can we talk?" She sounded so serious and you instantly zipped your mouth shut and nodded your head. "We kissed," you nodded your head again, "I really like you and if you want to- I'd really like to try again. I've changed, I promise."

Amelia was picking at her fingers as a smile grew on your face. "Amelia, I really like you too and I'd love if we tried again." Amelia's head shot up and her blue eyes bore into yours.

"Really?" And you let out a laugh as you pulled her closer.

"Yes, really. Of course, really." You smiled and Amelia pressed her lips to your own in a sweet kiss. The smile on your face mirrored by her, until your face fell.

"Shit."

Let's just say that Addison's muffins were definitely burnt to a crisp. However, you and Amelia had lots of fun remaking them: teaching her the recipe, (her) making a mess, dancing to music and stealing kisses in between breaks. The two of you were going to be just fine.

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[taralen]

This is an excellent analysis that I would like to add to as someone who [[suffers]] deals with mirroring mental health issues like him, in addition to having over a decade of [[top-rated]] customer service and sales experience.

Spamton's unusual dichotomy between a total bastard and a sympathetic yet broken person can also be attributed to psychosis paired with a strong and near-constant state of mania. These conditions fuel illusions of grandeur and irritability and can cause someone to have displaced feelings of time and space, thus limiting their impulse control and rational thinking. At any given moment, he could think something is a good idea and then probably regret it mentally after the deed's already been carried out. Someone can act like a complete jerk on the outside but be screaming in agony on the inside, and I strongly believe this is the case with Spamton. He is terrified of people discovering his inner self: a sad man who likely still has the insecurities he once did as an ambitious yet foolish Addison.

He battles constantly with his sense of self, ambitions, and delusions that fuel his entire state of being. As a former professional salesman (with implied business ownership) and media darling, his public image was the most important thing to him. Without an audience, he has no reason to put this mask up, so he's become rude, belligerent, and morally bankrupt over time. It's the mindset of, "Why should I be kind to these people when I did all these things for them only to be tossed out like yesterday's trash?" He feels slighted by them, so he's always rude and grumpy despite knowing how to talk smoothly (and perhaps de-escalate situations) in the past.

Isolation and lack of social support will screw someone with an already fragile mind into a state of self-sabotage. No matter what he tries to sell, everyone sees it as trash, and he knows what a quality product is since he used to sell stuff people wanted. The storefront is likely just another delusion or coping method to "re-live" his past. It's highly unlikely that anyone, not even that sentient trashcan, is willing to purchase anything from him due to being, quite literally, canceled by the same people who used to praise him.

By the time Kris meets him, he's already at rock bottom. He's desperate and acts impulsively. He is just incredibly lucky to run into someone like Kris, who sympathizes with him and has a Lightner's soul. Kris is also young and impulsive for trusting a stranger, but like Spamton, Kris is desperate for answers and solutions to their problem, which is still unclear to the audience/player at the time of writing this.

Also, going by the route where you use ATTACK on Spamton, he cries [HELP], then goes on a rant about how he was beaten up. Based on previous dialogue trees, we can assume that he's projecting a past experience of getting beaten up since the scenario he's describing is not what Kris was doing. Why would anyone want to be nice to people when he could be assaulted?

I used to work in one of the roughest cities on the West Coast of the USA, and I had co-workers who would come in with cuts and bruises just because some total asshole decided to beat them up on their way to work, and these were honest, hard-working dudes just trying to get by. How much more for a homeless man like Spamton, who faces social isolation and scrutiny?

Although this is up for debate, it's implied (somewhat heavily) that he wasn't always a puppet. The "puppification" process probably didn't help his social image and branded him as a "freak" to the other citizens. His past fame made it difficult for anyone to understand his problems clearly, and now that he looks "ugly," people only see him for his outer appearance and not the man crying out for help inside.

This is a minor aside, but I experience a similar (though not exactly the same) problem of being unable to express myself easily in person. I get a warmer reception than he does, but people often assume nothing is wrong with me. I blame it on my training in customer service and public speaking, which conditioned me to always talk as confidently as possible when in person or on call. I suspect Spamton faces a similar problem of not knowing how to shake this off. In his case, we only know he is suffering because of Kris's POV. He doesn't want to show this side of him to anyone else, hence why Ralsei and Susie were not allowed into his "store." People likely assume he's a crooked salesman and nothing more.

Anyway, this literally turned into a college essay, so I'll leave it at that. I love the stuff you pointed out and wanted to expand upon the ideas. Sorry for the omega-long post!

One reason why Spamton still compells me as a character, is that he has so much character.

He lived a pretty shitty life advertising to a crowd that wouldn't hear him. He lived in luxury in a mansion run by a very unserious ruler. He lives in dumpsters scattered around the city, and has a shop located in the Trash Zone.

How much does he know? We don't know.

He's unbelievably impolite. He's pushy and a prick. He literally scams you after you Already agreed to help him. He thanks you for clearing out the city with Noelle. He considers Kris a friend and wants to Help them as much as he wants to help himself.

He's a car salesman. He's a spam email. He's a digital character. He's a ventriloquist dummy. He's draped in black and white. He has the most ridiculous color palette out of any boss in the game. He claims to only care about money. We see him care so deeply he gives away his only remaining possession. He takes things too seriously. He makes a good amount of jokes throughout his mission.

He's a walking contradiction and I love him. I love him so much.

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[filmmaker-henry]

How did you meet Johnny?

"In class. He saw my service dog, Michelle, and absolutely fell in love with her." Addison said, gently petting his dog's head. She was a gorgeous black labrador poodle mix with a vest on her that said 'Service Dog, do not pet'. "Even though he read her vest, he did come up and ask if he could pet or play with her. After class, I sat down under a tree and let them run and play around. It's almost a daily thing with them."

[tabloidtoc]

In Touch, April 26

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Duchess Kate's revenge on Meghan Markle

Page 1: Contents

Page 2: Spring Cleaning -- it's that time of year again, and these products can help -- Nina Dobrev cleaning her floor

Page 4: Introducing Real Housewives All-Stars -- the most beloved table-flipping, drink-tossing, backstabbing stars from Real Housewives NYC, New Jersey, Atlanta and Beverly Hills casts are uniting for an all-star series on the streaming service Peacock and since everyone knows group trips make for the wildest episodes, the show will be filmed for two weeks at a Caribbean resort

Page 5: Angelina Jolie seems to be turning into quite the social butterfly as just weeks after her casual dinner with Ellen Pompeo then DJ Diplo posted an Instagram video with a woman who looks an awful lot like Angie, Number of the Week -- 2.25 million dollars fetched for Tom Brady's rookie football card, Gratitude of the Week -- Lena Dunham explaining how Glenn Close once cut her out of a too-tight corset at a black-tie event, Wife of the Week -- Megan Mullally on introducing her husband Nick Offerman to society, Makeover of the Week -- Iggy Azalea revealed bright green locks

Page 6: Crib of the Week -- Jerry Seinfeld's Colorado hideway in Telluride for sale, Winner of the Week -- Pete Davidson finally moves out of his mom's house on Staten Island and gets his own pad, Loser of the Week -- Bridgerton fans because Rege-Jean Page who plays the Duke of Hastings has confirmed he will not return next season

Page 8: Up Close -- Lady Gaga in a wedding dress playing Black Widow Patrizia Reggiani on the set of House of Gucci

Page 10: Brioni house ambassador Brad Pitt strikes a pose for the brand's Spring/Summer 2021 campaign, Nicole Kidman who will play Lucille Ball in Being the Ricardos shares a cheeky on-set pic, Kate Beckinsale straps her cat Clive to her chest in a carrier

Page 12: Planet Hollywood -- stars give back for Earth Day -- Zac Efron shows how bees are affected by pollution on his show Down to Earth with Zac Efron, Gisele Bundchen picks some herbs, Kelis working in the garden

Page 13: Nikki Reed and her chicken, Bella Hadid gets down and dirty sowing 1500 lavender plants at her family's farm in Pennsylvania, Jenna Fischer and her new orange tree

Page 16: Dwayne Johnson shows off the fruits of his labor in the gym, Christopher Meloni joked that he's a big boy after fans notice his ample behind on the set of Law & Order: Organized Crime, Madonna and daughter Lourdes Leon pose for a selfie, Katy Perry standing on a toilet in the American Idol bathroom

Page 20: Kim Kardashian has officially become a billionaire, but not everyone in her family is congratulating her, as sister Kylie Jenner is annoyed because Kim is being so smug about it -- Kylie is proud of her makeup line, and she thinks Kim basically just copied her business model with KKW Beauty and Skims -- meanwhile Kim never misses the chance to point out to her whole family that none of them would be rich or famous without her, they'd be nobodies -- when Kim found out Kylie might be a billionaire, she made it her mission to do the same because she's famously competitive and Kim didn't just set out to best Kylie in business, she wants to destroy all of her sisters and this is natural sibling rivalry but of course Kim is acting like it's war

Page 21: Rapper and actor DMX, real name Earl Simmons, died at age 50 after being on life-support for a week following a heart attack at his New York home -- the father of 15 had long struggled with substance abuse, which reportedly triggered his cardiac arrest -- he showed few signs of trouble in his final days: his fiancee Desiree Lindstrom shared a video of the healthy looking and upbeat star jamming to a Michael Jackson tune, and his final single X Moves was released the day he died, but secretly, he was struggling

Page 22: Cover Story -- Meghan Markle snubbed by the royal family -- Meghan was banned from Prince Philip's funeral as her husband Prince Harry returns to the U.K. for the first time since Megxit -- the royals truly are hoping to heal the rift with Harry, but the chances of that happening are slim if Meghan is around because the family just doesn't trust Meghan anymore

Page 24: Prince Philip's life in pictures

Page 28: Is Tiger Woods hiding something? The investigation into the golfer's horrific car crash is concluded, but questions linger

Page 30: True Crime -- Till Death Do Us Part? San Diego mom May "Maya" Millete vanishes after making an appointment with a divorce lawyer

Page 32: The Big Interview -- Margaret Josephs of The Real Housewives of New Jersey

Page 36: And the Oscar goes to...these must-haves for that virtual soiree you're hosting on Hollywood's biggest night -- Lady Gaga with her Oscar

Page 38: Fashion -- Long Live Tie-Dye -- this psychedelic print is still going strong -- Addison Rae, Kourtney Kardashian

Page 40: Animal Overload -- my dog looks Hoda Kotb

Page 46: Horoscope -- Taurus Renee Zellweger turned 52 on April 25

Page 48: Last Laughs

[puffwriter1998]

The Things We Let Go Ch.3

Summary: Addison’s experience at the 422nd Quidditch World cup.

Character Pairings: Fred Weasley X OC (not really in this chapter)

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, but I really enjoyed writing it. If you’ve been following along: thank you so much! I can’t wait to let the rest of this story unfold. I have so much written. Some dialog in this chapter comes from the original works.  

As the day wore on, the excitement amongst the ever-growing crowd of wizards around me multiplied. When the sun began to go down, it boiled over and all pretense of a muggle façade was dropped. Merchants for both teams were Apparating here and there, carrying armloads of hats with dancing shamrocks and red scarves with lions that really roared. Children flew through the rows on toy brooms that only rose a few feet off the ground. Surely the ministry would be modifying a few memories before it was all said and done. 

 The Weasley bunch left us a little early with Harry and Hermione in tow, to be able to make their way up to the Top Box to sit with the Minister of Magic and a few other top officials who organized the Cup. Harry looked about as excited as I felt, gazing around at the scene in wonder as they walked away through the crowd. 

It soon came time for us to head into the woods towards what I assumed would be a pretty large stadium. Mr. Abbott led Hannah, Charlie and me onto a trail that was magnificently lit with floating lanterns. The excitement of the thousands of people, all walking through the trees, was contagious. A smile had spread across my face from ear to ear and there was no chance of losing it. There were chants supporting both teams, laughter, and from a little further off, a lighthearted song in favor of the Irish. 

We walked like this for a few minutes before I began to be able to pick out glimpses of a gargantuan stadium through the trees ahead. As we grew closer, I got a sense of just how big it was. 

 “Mr. Abbot,” I called to him, a few feet ahead of me, “Just how many people does this stadium hold?” 

 “A hundred thousand!” he replied gleefully. 

 A hundred thousand. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that there were a hundred thousand magical people on the globe, let alone at one event. Magical communities were so few and far between in Britain, and there were so few students at Hogwarts, that I had assumed we had relatively small numbers. 

 The golden walls surrounding the field rose higher and higher in front of me as we approached. A stream of wizards narrowed into one of the nearest entrances in front of us. A ministry witch at the gate peered down at the tickets Mr. Abbott handed her. 

 “Not too bad, not too bad. Straight up the stairs, about halfway up, there’ll be someone there to show you to your seats,” she said and waved us through. 

 We began our climb upwards on the carpeted stairs amongst the tight crowd of people. People exited through doors at various levels and filed into the stands. About half way up the height of the stadium, Mr. Abbott said “Ah, here we are,” and led us through a doorway. He handed another Ministry worker our tickets, and we were pointed into a long row of folding seats.

 As we sat, I looked out over the field and marveled at the sight of a hundred thousand wizards all taking their seats around me. The entire stadium seemed to be bathed in a marvelous golden light. The field was a smooth green lake below us, and the stands rose like a fortress above us. We were seated about halfway up, and halfway between the towering golden goalposts. Beautiful gold script danced across a huge blackboard at the top of the stadium on the side across from us that flashed various advertisements for magical goods and services. 

 I was in absolute awe. I tried to remember why I ever felt guilty for loving this life, and I couldn’t. The scene in front of me was almost too good to be true. The excitement radiating through the stands was tangible. My cheeks were aching from smiling so widely, but I knew they’d be getting no relief anytime soon. 

 Before I knew it, the voice of Ludo Bagman was audible over the roaring of the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen… welcome!” The crowd exploded in response and Bagman waited for the noise level to go back down before continuing. “Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!” 

 Flags of green and scarlet waved all around the stadium as fans clapped and cheered. The blackboard across the stadium was wiped clean of the golden advertisements and they were replaced with BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0. 

 “And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…” Mr.Bagman’s voice shouted, “the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!” 

 The Bulgaria side, an endless sea of scarlet, erupted in excitement. At that moment, a least a hundred beautiful women strutted out onto the field. 

 “Their mascots are women?” I leaned in and asked Charlie. 

 “They’re Veela! Look closer!” She shouted back over the deafening crowd. 

 I started to ask her what Veela were, but I was immediately distracted by the perfection of the creatures on the field. Charlie, was right, they definitely weren’t regular women. Their skin looked like porcelain that was reflected in a most beautiful moonlight. The platinum, white-gold hair that hung down their backs splayed out behind them like they were walking in front of a wind-machine. I had never seen such dazzling creatures. 

 And then they started to dance. They twisted their bodies and moved across the field as if their feet weren’t touching the ground. It was such a wonderful display of beauty that I couldn’t tear my eyes away. That was, until Charlie’s voice cut into the blissful emptiness that had overcome my mind. 

 “Dad? Dad, what’re you doing?” she asked. 

 “Huh?” Mr. Abbott had risen from his seat and looked like he was about to swan dive off the edge of the wall in front of him. He blinked like he had just woken up from an incredibly confusing dream. He cleared his throat, “Goodness, forgive me. Those Veela, they’re really something aren’t they?” 

 His face flushed red with embarrassment, but as I gazed around the stadium, it seems that he had no reason to. About every man in the stadium had risen from their seats and were in varying states of trying to climb down the rows in front of them to get to the field. The Veela dance came to an end, and all around me, people began to wake up the way Mr. Abbott did. 

 “And now,” Ludo roared over the crowd, “kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!” 

 As the words left his mouth, a great ball of gold and green light burst into the stadium. It did one full lap around the perimeter and then broke off into two smaller orbs and shot towards the goalposts on the ends. Then, just as suddenly as the balls of light had appeared, a magnificent rainbow arced down and connected the two. Hannah, Charlie, and I gazed in amazement, along with the rest of the crowd. 

 The rainbow faded and was replaced by a giant shimmering shamrock, that rose high into the sky and began doing laps over the stands. A beautiful golden rain seemed to be falling from beneath it as it flew. When it soared over us, I realized they were Galleons, the biggest and most valuable of the wizard currency. 

 “Goodness!” I exclaimed as I ducked out of the way of the heavy gold coins.

 “You won’t want to pick any of that up,” yelled Mr. Abbott to me over the girls’ heads. “That’s fools gold!” 

 “Fools gold?” I hollered back and squinted up at the shamrock. 

 “They’re leprechauns!” As soon as he said it, I realized that the entire shape was made up of hundreds and hundreds of tiny bearded men, all holding a small lamp of gold or green. Many people around the stadium were scrambling around, and it looked like a few fights had even broken out over the gold. 

 “It’ll disappear before the night is out,” said Charlie, “That’s why it’s fool’s gold, only a fool would think they’d rain down millions of real Galleons at the World Cup.” 

 The giant shamrock finished its parade, and the leprechauns put out their lanterns to drift down onto the opposite side of the field as the Veela. 

 Ludo Bagman then welcomed the Bulgarian and Irish players to the field, but my eyes never left Krum. His thick black hair shone in the golden light that I still hadn’t found the source of. He looked much too big to be able to control his broom with such precision. He didn’t even look nervous, he looked like the whole thing was beneath him. 

 The match began as flashes of scarlet and green raced around the field. Bagman tried to keep up with quaffle, but they played at such speed that he only had time to say the player’s names. “It’s Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!” 

 I had never seen such a display of skill and athleticism. The speed of the players was so great that my eyes were having trouble following them. Ireland scored three times within the first ten minutes of the match, and I could see why. They worked flawlessly as a unit, rather than individual players. It was simply amazing. 

 A while later, Ireland was pummeling Bulgaria. They were up 170 to 10, with no intention of going easy on the players in red. Krum had just had his nose smashed by taking a bludger square in the face. The official had been distracted by a Veela who had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom ablaze. Blood sprayed out from behind Krum has he flew through the air.

 Suddenly, Lynch, the Irish seeker had gone into a dive. It mimicked the Wronski Feint that Krum had used earlier in the game to get Lynch to crash into the field, but this dive had much more purpose to it. 

 “Look, Lynch is after the snitch!” I cried and pointed towards the streak of green rushing down at the field. Irish supporters, including the Abbotts screamed in support of their seeker. However, Krum was right behind him. Blood covered his face, and I wondered how he had any earthly idea what direction the snitch was in. He was catching up to Lynch though, every milisecond that passed gaining another few feet. As they drew level, they were hurtling towards the ground at an impossible speed, and I sensed a second crash coming. 

 I was at least partly right, as Lynch collided with the ground with a thud that I swore I could hear over the roaring crowd. A mob of vicious Veela, so different from the beautiful creatures they were when they took the field, surrounded Lynch and blocked him from view. 

 Krum rose slowly into the air, blood still pouring from his nose like a faucet someone forgot to turn off. The tiny golden snitch was clasped between his fingers in a raised fist. My eyes flashed up to the scoreboard and my heart dropped; BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170. 

 The Ireland supporters slowly began to realize what had happened and a deafening roar came from the green in the crowd. 

 “IRELAND WINS!” Exclaimed the voice of Ludo Bagman, obviously surprised by the sudden end to such an exciting match. “KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS – good lord, I don’t think any of us were expecting that!”

 The Abbotts next to me began jumping up and down and cheering with the rest of the people dressed in green. 

 “Blimey!” yelled Charlie. “Wonder what he did that for?” 

 I knew exactly why Krum caught the snitch when the Bulgarians were 160 points behind. He saw that they were being destroyed by the Irish, and he wanted to end it himself, before it got any more messy. 

 “What a match, eh Addison?” called Mr. Abbott from over Charlie’s head, “bet you didn’t expect that one. That Krum is a wonder though, I’ll admit.” 

 I felt slightly deflated, a feeling that usually came to me after we lost our own quidditch match at school. I had really been hoping for Bulgaria to win, but seeing Krum beat Lynch to the snitch almost made up for it. 

 Suddenly it dawned on me that Fred and George had won their bet. Against all odds, Ireland had won, but Krum caught the snitch. They’d probably be rich after they got done with Bagman. A small grin spread across my face as I realized this is the outcome I should have preferred. 

 The Irish supporters were already beginning to celebrate as we made our way back down the purple carpeted stairs. I’d have to congratulate Fred and George on their win. I’m sure the high they were riding right then was on a whole different level than the rest of the fans. The joyous energy pouring from the sea of green in front of me was infectious. The night was still young, and I couldn’t help but have the feeling that the most exciting part of my world cup experience was yet to come.

[noraryker]

BASICS

Name: Nora Ann Ryker

Gender & pronouns: Cis-Female, She/Her

Species: Human

Face: Amy Adams

Age: 39, October 29, 1980

PERSONALITY

Moral Alignment: True Neutral

Zodiac: Scorpio

Personality Traits:

Positive: Brave, Loyal, Determined, Passionate, Self-Reliant

Negative: Secretive, Judgmental, Cynical, Unforgiving, Obsessive

TV Tropes: Dark and Troubled Past, The Unfavorite, Amateur Sleuth,  Bully Hunter, The "I Love You" Stigma, Always Save The Girl (family edition)

HISTORY - TW: underage drinking, underage sex, drug use, alcohol poisoning, self-destructive behavior, 

There’s not a lot of things you could consider remarkable about Nora Ryker. Born the middle child in an upper-middle class family in Washington, she grew up comfortable - never wanting for food or clothing, but nonetheless dissatisfied. The middle child syndrome was strong in this one, as Nora often found herself fading into the background when compared to her older brother and younger sister. She received decent enough grades in the beginning, but not enough to compare with her younger sister's constant advanced classes. She might have placed silver at her district's cross-country running meets - but who would sit through that when her brother was going to state as star quarterback? Her parents loved her, they did, but between three kids and two full time jobs? They just didn't have time for the middle's tantrums. After a few years of struggling to make herself seen, Nora decided that if her parents weren't going to give her attention -  she would find it elsewhere.

Nora was twelve when a sophomore gave her her first taste of beer at a joint middle-high school track meet; and despite the way it tasted, she liked the impressed looks on her classmates’ faces. She learned early that the more daring you were, the more attention others would give you - and Nora couldn't get enough. Choked down gulps of beer graduated into quick shots of vodka, with Nora clenching her eyes to get past the burn in her throat. Liquor turned to weed when she hit eighth grade, and losing her virginity followed shortly after. She barely remembered the act itself. but she remembered the greedy, almost desperate way that he touched her. For that brief (brief) moment, she was the most important thing in the world to someone, and she loved it. As her siblings continued to try and earn their parents love and approval, Nora made it her mission to earn their disapproval. Boy, did she earn it.

If it was offered, Nora tried it. Liquor, drugs, sex - even harmless petty crimes, she did it all. Had anyone asked what prompted this change, she wasn’t necessarily sure that she could explain. All Nora knew was that the older she got, the more that void in her chest became harder to fill. By the time her parents noticed the changes in their daughter, it was too late. She started to push it overboard, sleeping with anyone (even her sister's boyfriend), and injecting anything into her body. She even wound up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning a few times. Her parents didn't handle their middle daughter the best either; the sounds of their past screaming matches still coming to mind every now and again. Once desperate for their attention, Nora now felt suffocated by them now. The more they pushed, the more she acted out, and the fights didn't end when Nora left for college either. All it did was turn into constant texts and phone calls.

Forestry was supposed to be a throwaway major, something to get her degree in so her parents would stop threatening to cut her off. Her adviser suggested it because she had grown up camping in the mountains, and Nora’s lack of interest was starting to wear on her. What no one expected was that Nora would fall in love with her major. The core classes were a boring joke, but the trips out into the wilderness actually eased some of the hollowness in her chest. She became less concerned with trying to earn love, and more concerned with the preservation and maintenance of parks. Nora couldn't seem to graduate fast enough -  with her overwhelming enthusiasm landing her an internship and then an eventual job with Mount Rainier's Park Service. She lost herself in those tall trees, going in one person and coming at another.

Truth be told, Nora doubts her life would have changed at all if it weren't for her niece showing up one day at her doorstep. Barely 16, Addison was all hard edges and secrets - filled with a type of emptiness that Nora recognized immediately. Of course, she was a little surprised by the arrival - Nora might have settled things with her sister over some past issues and visited every once in a while, but she'd never felt particularly close to her niece. Not initially. Still, she gave her a place to sleep, and a free meal whenever she wanted - without even batting an eye. Nora's sister seemed more than happy to leave her problem child with her problem sister.

With Addison, Nora understood that it wasn’t attention she was seeking but understanding. It’s what Nora had wanted in the end, after all. She never asked any prying questions, never stormed into Addison’s room to search for drugs, and most importantly - she didn’t demand answers to why Addison felt the way she did. Nora knew that it was a hard question. Truth be told, it was also nice having someone there to come home to as well. She was no longer the Nora fighting to find herself in other people, but every once in a while she’d still feel the barest traces of loneliness. She might not have sought to soothe herself with other people anymore, but it’d be a lie if she said having Addison around didn’t help her as well. The two of them formed an easy, silent companionship. Nora didn’t try to lock Addison down when she made the decision to leave, but a quiet part of her heart went with her.

Nora hasn’t let herself cry once about Addison’s disappearance - refusing to give in to despair. She can feel it flickering at the corners of her mind, but what good will crying do? Addison’s parents could spend their days praying for a savior and begging for their “baby girl” to come back, but Nora wasn’t just going to sit around. Nora was always one to act, and right now is no different. Her rougher edges might have smoothed out with time, but there’s still a hellion under her skin... and her trip to Blackrock isn’t going to be a short one.

CONNECTIONS:

*Note, Royan cannot think of any in-depth ones right now, so she's going to keep it short and sweet and just word vomit in a stream of consciousness.  If you had plotted a connection with the previous Holly and would like to keep it, please hit me up! I am open for anything

Any original ideas! As stated above, I'm open for anything! Bring the pain! Bring the drama! 

Roommates - She needs a place to stay. Motels are expensive and she knows she's going to be here a while so would anyone like to sublet to Nora?  [OPEN]

Bully Hunter - Nora hates bullies. She may not be the warmest person in town but Nora came to the rescue of this person, stepping in when something was going wrong.   [OPEN]

Coworkers - Luckily for Nora, being a former ranger has its perks in Blackrock. I was looking to have her transfer to this department to keep her money flow going so any other rangers, game warden, interns would be welcome connections  [OPEN]

The Pack - This one is really open to anyone in the pack, esp folks that were close to Addison. Despite being far away, I like to think that Addison still kept in touch with her aunt. Nora's been her confidante for so long, so I want to say she would have known maybe one or two names?  [OPEN]

Horny on Main - I have yet to be horny on main with either character, so if someone wants a one-night stand/sexual tension with Nora, I love it. Sex has always been a big distraction for her, so why the fuck not? Personally, though, I don't see Nora sleeping with anyone under 29-30 with light exceptions depending on the FC because some FCs just look too young for me to feel comfortable pairing with someone Nora/Amy Adams' age.  [OPEN]

SUSPICION - This person just really causes all the warning bells in Nora's head to go off. They know more than they're telling her, she's certain, and she will get the truth from her even if it kills them her.  [OPEN]

Short Connections I will keep adding to:

Drinking buddy.

Confidant - knows what she's going through and sympathizes with.

[septembersung]

I said I wouldn’t do it, but here I am, posting another chapter of Generations!

Please understand that this draft is, while scanned for typos and basic coherency, a genuine “rough” draft - what a block sketch is to the final painting.

If you’re enjoying these and want more, please also know that I am putty in the hands of praise and feedback.

(Chapter One here.)

Chapter Two

Meadowlark Farm stretched across four sections in central Kansas, more than two thousand acres of plains, rolling hills, riverbanks, stubborn cottonwoods, irregular ponds, and the occasional dense stands of timber. The old family farmhouse stood close to the middle of the property, near what had once been a river but was now a seasonal creek, in a particularly fine grove of cottonwoods. In high summer, the waxy leaves shimmered wildly in the slightest breeze, like a flock of dragonflies or a shoal of fleeing fish.

The house itself rested against a little rise in the land, looking out sedately over the fields, with one basement corner, the original cellar, built into the hill. Two ancient limestone fenceposts still marked the end of the patchy gravel driveway, half taken over by dandelions. Huge clumps of pampas grass marked the rutted drive. The house rested easily in the shade of tall elms and cottonwoods. Part of the original limestone foundation remained, ringing three corners of the original square ground floor. Seen from the side, where the driveway ended in a field of stubby buffalo grass, it looked regular enough, a typical nineteenth and twentieth century farmhouse in peeling white paint. Walking around the curving front porch revealed an extra wing, built on at a diagonal angle, which stuck out like an injured bird testing the wind with its good wing. The attic, a huge airy room above the original second floor, winked back at the sun with many small square windows.

Back of the house, in the triangle between the west-facing end of the house the northward-thrusting angle of thew the new wing - over a hundred years old and still it remained, in family parlance, "the new wing" - a little kitchen garden grew half-wild. Wide, smooth stepping stones marked the short path from screen door to the little plot.

Beyond the new wing, in the true backyard, children's playground equipment dotted the slope. Mismatched swings hanging from chains and ropes attached to rusting A-frames and weathered wooden beams swung gently in the perpetual Kansas breezes. Slides and monkey bars glinted in the hot sun. Chickenwire separated the play area from an enormous rectangular garden, already overflowing with produce, heavily over-planted, and exuding fragrant herb smells with every gusty breeze. The land ran down a gentle hill towards a dense growth of timber and a long, enormous pond.

Not too near the pond, several mismatched outbuildings hunched in what could not quite be called a cluster. Like a crowd trying to pretend it is not a crowd, each person too embarrassed to stand too close to anyone else, they held a swath of ground to themselves. A huge, two story barn with its paint long gone, worn to a brownish grey. A nearly shiny Morton building, not quite new but startlingly contemporary. A hay shelter, with rusted slanted roof. A skeleton barn, with just a few peeling boards left here and there, it's empty roof frame stretching over antique machinery. And a solid, unremarkable little shed, red boards dulled to maroon, covered in a patched roof of mismatched shingles topped with an enormous handmade antenna. The double front doors stood ajar and a solid-looking padlock hung from the wide-open latch, hanging casually open.

Beyond the swings, the big garden, the outbuildings, and the pond, the land fell sharply away to a creek bed. It was low in this high, dry summer, and nearly still. The banks, crumbled where the grass gave way to clay, ran with little wavering along the crease where hill met plain, until they met the little woods to the east. Cropland stretched out beyond the creek to the north. Near the trees, but enough to be shaded by them except in earliest morning, just on the north side of the river, lay the old family burial ground.

It had not always been meticulously tended, but in Leah's lifetime the oldest headstones had been somewhat restored, the most egregious weeds removed, and this summer, even the grass had been recently mowed.

Anna-Lucia knelt at her mother's headstone. Martha Addison, beloved wife, mother, sister. May 8 2005 - August 15, 2070. RIP Et Lux perpetua luceat eia.

The thick granite headstone with its neatly cut, clear letters stood in line with several others, some so weathered and faded as to be hardly legible. After a moment, hand resting on the sun-hot granite, Anna-Lucia sat down and crossed her legs, shoulders slumped, hands folded in her lap. A few brown rosary beads hung between her fingers, but her mind had drifted into wind and dappled light and the hum of insects and the sound the tall grass made bowing again and again to itself in the gentle, incessant breeze. Time passed but she did not know it. Then -

"Here you are!"

Anna-Lucia started badly as a sun-blind silhouette loomed over and dropped down suddenly, throwing two strong arms around her shoulders.

Dazed from the bright light and her unintentional reverie, it took Anna-Lucia several stunned seconds to process the small hands with many rings, the flyaway, unevenly cut dark blonde curls, the lavender perfume.

"Liza!" she gasped out at last, returning the hug.

In the sixteen months since she had seen her sister, Liza's choppy curls had grown irregularly long. Her wiry arms were sun browned and stronger than ever.

"Oh, I have missed you, little sister," Liza sighed affectionately, giving her one last squeeze and sitting back, stretching out like a cat on the warm prickly grass. It was an old joke between them; Liza, the eldest, was as petite and youthful as their mother had been; Anna-Lucia had her father's bigger bones and had nearly always been mistaken as the oldest.

Trying to shake off the sun-daze and afternoon grogginess, Anna-Lucia found she had no words - just a huge, cheek-splitting grin, and a few irrepresible tears in the corner of her eyes. She gripped Liza's shoulder and squeezed. Liza smiled back, but her eyes were tired and new care lines were etched there.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Anna-Lucia said at last, when the silence had stretched so long it began almost to feel like another dream.

"No one knew. Not even me, until forty-eight hours ago. I fully expected to miss this year's reunion and be stuck on the beat 'til Christmas."

"Lots to report in Rome?"

"I've hardly been there - they send me all over the EU. That's the great thing about this job. Catholicity is a small operation with big dreams. I'm really the only full-time culture reporter they've got, so I have my pick of assignments. There's enough for three of me and three Giovannis besides."

"I still can't believe they get away that name."

Liza grinned wickedly. "Oh it's caused a few misunderstandings, but the reporter credentials, and the kinds of bylines I'm racking up, set them straight pretty fast."

"I hardly know anything about your job - you've sent three letters, Liza. Three, in a year and a half."

"Sixteen months, thank you very much." Liza hesitated. "It's - changing, over there. Letters aren't as... in vogue as they used to be."

Anna-Lucia looked at her sharply. "You're joking." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, pushing away the lingering brain fog and reminding herself she was still not certain what privacy remained at home. Take nothing for granted. "I mean, nothing's more fashionable than retro, right? Where would the elite be if not at the height of fashion?"

Liza shrugged, an airy show of unconcern belied by the downturned corners of her mouth, as she reached into her bag, tossed carelessly on the ground next to her. "Whatever fires their rockets, I guess. It's pages, now. Personal pages to orally deliver messages."

Anna-Lucia felt inside, somewhere, that this was more important than she grasped, than her sister let on, but the sun had been slowly cooking her for more than an hour and Liza was pulling out of her carelessly dropped bag a thick wad of cream-colored envelopes addressed in a trailing scrawl she knew very well.

Her heart leapt. "You saw him!"

Liza shook her head, and she was pale under her tan. "These came through the postal service."

Not, Anna-Lucia registered distantly, the post office.

"That's how I found you out here, actually. I got in not twenty minutes ago and went in looking for Dad, and Grandma immediately sent me out here." Her eyes conveyed that Leah had warned her, too, they could not speak completely freely in the house. "These are all addressed to him."

Anna-Lucia stared at her. "Just to Dad? Not even one for me? Or you?"

"I tried to tell you." Liza held out the letters. "Check the dates."  Swiftly, Anna-Lucia tugged the rubber bands off the thick stack and they uncompressed in her hands, spilling over her lap. Each was labeled, F1sh, followed by a string of numbers she recognized as an encoding of month, year, and - something she couldn't decipher. Location, probably.

"A year ago? The most recent one is twelve months old?"

"One's only seven."

"You've read them?"

Liza frowned at her. "I take my job seriously, Anna-Lucia."

"I'm sorry. Stupid question." Mechanically, Anna-Lucia gathered the letters back up and rebound them. "So you've had no news."

Liza just looked at her.

Understanding began to dawn, and Anna-Lucia did not like it. "That's why you came home."

"We need Uncle Kevin's address book."

"No news at all? Seven months and nothing? Not a single person knows where he is or what happened to him?"

"Will you help me find Dad?" Liza pleaded, glancing down at her watch, a slim, chic, old fashioned ladies' analog. "He needed these... yesterday."

Anna-Lucia felt as unmovable as the headstones beside her.

"Please, Anna-Lucia. I don't... I can't tell him alone."

Liza stood and held out a hand. Anna-Lucia grasped it and was hauled to her feet, stiff, half-asleep limbs complaining and uncooperative. She heaved a deep breath, involuntarily, as if she'd been swimming underwater. Their little brother had been missing for at least seven months, and no one had heard a thing.

"Dad's in the new shed."

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[amplesalty]

Christmas 2019: Day 9 - The Christmas Hope (2009)

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Nine months of gestation!

On reflection, I can see that the past two entries on this years list have been a bit of a downer. Far too centered in talk of mental illness, depression and the like. Let’s perk things up a bit with...*checks notes*...shit.

Right now millions of people across the planet (or galaxy as it were) are enjoying/not enjoying the end to a very different cinematic trilogy. Me? I have a long overdue wrap up to attend to that started many moons ago thanks to a certain little film about a certain pair of shoes based on a certain song. Quite why I’m doing this know I don’t know. I can only suspect that I’ve seen one too many reflective social media posts now that we’re reaching both the end of a year and decade, perhaps I’m subconsciously wanted to sort out unfinished business, hence looking at stuff like this, Christmas Story Live and the Christmas Carol Musical.

The movie starts with Traci here recording herself singing a song before commenting ‘American Idol here I come!’. The camera pans all through her house looking at pictures of her daughter, soppy picture frames with ‘I LOVE YOU MOMMY’ written on them and no sign of a boyfriend/husband so she has the basis for a feel good story if she does make it on. Might need to jazz it up somewhere along the line if we’re to really tug at the audiences heartstrings but it’s a start. This actress would go on to play Vicky in the live action Fairly Odd Parents movies so that’s another tie in to a previous entry. Apparently there’s a third one of those and I’m not sure if I’ve seen it.

She literally runs into a couple on her way to work, knocking their teddy bear to the floor which they graciously give to her when she mentions that her daughter would love it. This is Nathan and Megan from The Christmas Blessing, sadly both recast. Actually, maybe that’s a good thing. Not sure I’d be able to take NPH seriously after all those H&K movies recently. Nathan is a bit more of a ginger this time around, rather than the dirty blonde thing NPH has going on. Megan is expecting and they have about a bajillion teddies so they don’t mind passing one along. Hey, someone probably got you that as a gift. Be grateful!

Meanwhile, the police arrest a drug dealer and find she has a malnourished baby in her apartment so in swoop child services to save the day.

Mr. T feels your pain.

I hope you weren’t getting too attached to Traci by the way because about fifteen minutes into the film, shortly after making a heartfelt promise to her daughter that they were going to decorate the Christmas tree once she got home from work and that she had a very special present for her this year, she promptly gets run over.

Have you ever crossed the road, and looked the wrong way? A car's nearly on you? So what do you do? Something very silly; you freeze. Your life doesn't flash before you, cause you're too fucking scared to think, you just freeze and pull a stupid face.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised given this is one of those melodramatic, Hallmark movies and this whole series has been overly morbid up to this point but it still kinda threw me. Here we are all nice and happy, Traci’s going about her day and there’s a nice Christian, soft rock Christmas ballad playing in the background and then BOOM, SUV to the face.

Then it cuts to her daughter, Emily, going through the Christmas decorations before settling on a angel which she ponders on for a moment before looking to the heavens as she’s having this moment of intuition.

But when child services pop their head in again to take her away, they find that all their usual helpers are fully booked for the holidays so what else can they do? One of the workers, Patricia, has no choice but to take her home. It’s not by the book but, damnit, it’s Christmas and we’re going to give this kid some degree of stability. By sheer coincidence, Patricia happens to be the mother of one Sean Addision who was the kid that died following a car accident the start of Christmas Blessing which caused Nathan to have his Dr Cox crisis of confidence moment. These movies are just ridiculous to how everyone's lives are so intertwined.

Like, up to this point, we met Traci who then bumped into Nathan and Megan, before going to work and having a young, troubled teen skip out on his bill but Patricia was in at the same time and tipped really generously to make up for it. That same kid then pretty much steals her bag following accident and also knew Sean who was mentoring him in one of those Big Brother mentoring programs.

Patricia’s husband, Mark, is played by James Remar, he of The Warriors fame and, more pertinent to this blog, he was in the Miracle on 34th Street remake and one of the segments in the Tales from the Darkside movie. Theirs is a very frosty relationship currently owing to the death of Sean, there’s no sense of chemistry between these two and I’m surprised they’re actually as close in age as they are, Remar only 4 years older. Feels like there’s more of like a 10-20 year gap. He gets on very well with Emily though, they have this instant rapport whilst Patricia is more distant which is understandable. She obviously has to keep things professional as she can’t get too attached to these kids and doesn’t want them getting attached to her, plus there’s probably ongoing issues from Sean’s death, maybe she’s not prepared to slip back into that motherly role again. Which you can tell by that dinner she serves; rolls of wafer thin ham, cherry tomatoes, carrot sticks and celery? That’s just what all the kids want.

At least she’ll read Emily a bedtime story, ‘I’ll Love You Forever’ which documents a mother who sings to her song that she’ll love him forever, even when he becomes a rebellious teenager who thinks it’s lame for her to do that. This leads to the very strange visual of him cradiling her in his arms on a rocking chair and singing it to her when she’s old and frail, a mirror image of how she first sang to him when he was a baby. This really hits Patricia in the feels as she felt distant from Sean as he seemed closer to his father, wanting to impress him by picking the sports and classes he thought his father wanted him to take. She even seems to partly blame her husband for their sons death as he switched around his work schedule to come home early for Christmas, which in turn led to Sean coming home early too. If he’d just come home on the day he intended this never would have happened! That seems grossly unfair. Even when she passed along a family heirloom in the form of her fathers watch, he was unimpressed and even managed to break it whilst horsing around with a friend in his room.

The massively tangled web of these characters comes into play again when Megan is going through some things and finds an old Christmas gift which sends Nathan into some sort of Nam flashback. Turns out Sean was holding it as he was wheeled into the hospital and Nathan had taken it upon himself to make sure it found its way to its intended destination but he just forgot about it over the years. I actually went back to check this and ,yeah, that is in the previous movie. I had this whole thing pegged as just a series of independent stories with loose connections throughout but no, apparently they had whole plot points planned out in advance.

Nathan and Patricia do interact several times as she takes the crack baby to the hospital to be checked up. There’s this strange level of frustration akin to An American Tail where Nathan keeps getting little flashbacks in his head but he’s never quite able to connect the dots.

But of course he eventually does and the present turns out to be, say it with me now, the broken watch! Perhaps more meaningful though is the accompanying note which reveals Sean intended to study social work at college because he wanted to help kids just like his mom. This seems to serve as a form of closure for her but I feel like you could already start drawing that sort of conclusion. I mean, the guy was already in that Big Brother program so you were clearly already having some sort of influence on him.

Strike two of the big overly emotional finale comes when it’s suggested Emily puts the angel atop the tree which promptly makes her bolt out of the room. Everyone is left thinking they’ve upset her but she comes back clutching a picture which she wedges onto the tree, a picture not of her mother as I had suspected but of Sean. She says he is her angel and she feels like whenever she’s felt all alone, he’s been there to help here. Awww.

The big showstopper though is the troubled kid finally coming good and, after realising who everyone is in this story, returns Traci’s bag to the Addison home. Inside was her camera and on that camera was the video from the very start of the movie. Turns out she wrote that song as a Christmas gift for Emily.

Though, I feel the writers fell short of a grand slam here. Near the end, Nathan shares the story with Megan about giving the gift to Sean’s parents and how it gave him his own little bit of closure after how much Sean’s death affected him back then. Megan goes into labour shortly afterwards and I was fully expecting them to decide to call the baby Sean but no such luck.

Christmas Blessing was lacking a little bit in the big emotional ending so it feels like this one is making up for that and then some. It’s not as cheesy as that song from Christmas Shoes but still delivers that overly sentimental feeling. Again, it’s something I am loathed to admit but it got to me a little bit. This whole movie has that same morbid energy as the other two but in a slightly different way, the first two felt like you spent the entire movie watching people who were on deaths door before something happened at the end to soften the blow. Here they just give you the death right up front and everyone is left to cope with the aftermath and reflect on how deal with it. It’s like an encapsulation of everything that Nathan has gone through over these movies, facing death in his personal and professional life but coming to terms with it.

You know what’s bullshit though? No sign of the eponymous Christmas Shoes anywhere. They’re even in the box of stuff that Megan finds the old Christmas present in. How can you make this your big conclusion and not bring them back? You brought them back the last one, you couldn’t have Megan tag along and give them to Emily at the end as some sort of passing of the torch? It was her destiny, Nathan got them for his dead mother, Charlie got them for his dead mother, those shoes have been robbed of their purpose in life.

[vagrantblvrd]

Off the Beaten Path (1/1)

Summary: Michael inherited the old house from the crazy side of his family.

“Harsh.”

He snorts and looks to the side where he can just makes out the hazy outline of a human figure. It wavers, shifting in and out of focus and the spot it occupies looks like someone went into a photo editing program and went to town on the blur filter. Felt like it needed more pizzazz and tossed in some film grain for the hell of it.

“Fuck off,” he says, turning back to the idiot in the backward baseball cap who doesn’t know the half of it.

Notes: I started this before they announced Achievement Haunters, so, you know. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

AO3

Michael inherited the old house from the crazy side of his family.

“Harsh.”

He snorts and looks to the side where he can just makes out the hazy outline of a human figure. It wavers, shifting in and out of focus and the spot it occupies looks like someone went into a photo editing program and went to town on the blur filter. Felt like it needed more pizzazz and tossed in some film grain for the hell of it.

“Fuck off,” he says, turning back to the idiot in the backward baseball cap who doesn’t know the half of it.

It’s a nice house though. Turn of the century two-story building built on several acres of land butting up against a sprawling forest.

Quiet, peaceful, and fucking haunted.

These lonely spirits wandering the mortal plane because they can’t seem to find their way to the next world or some bullshit.

Fucking annoying about it, too.

The younger ones walking the halls at night, making unearthly noises and knocking shit over like a bunch of cats.

The older ones are content to drift along in silence unless there’s something they want.

In that case, Michael can expect a ghostly face peeking through the shower curtains to ask him if he could  make them toast because they miss the smell. A freezing presence at the side of his bed at night wondering if it would be too much trouble for him to turn the radio on to a talk show, and on and on.

They’re the harmless kind for the most part. Just lonely and tired of being forgotten, like to have someone acknowledge their existence, and unfortunately for them, that someone happens to be Michael.

They tend to be indistinct blurs at the edge of his vision. Some look like ghostly – fucking ha - versions of normal people.

Most of them prefer to manifest the way they looked in life. Whole and unmarred by the manner of their death, and others just don’t care enough to try. Shamble along with their injuries on display, no doubt as to the method of their death. Something bout the land here that draws them in, offers them peace they can’t find anywhere else until they move on or fade away.

“Well, I mean,” the guy - Ryan? - apparently isn’t going to let this go. “That’s a harsh thing to say, isn’t it?”

The house was converted into a bed and breakfast years ago. This curious thing a few miles out from the nearby town, and it sees a steady flow of guests around the year. Tourists and people passing through who don’t quite know where they’re going as long as it’s as far away from where they started as they can get.

And, of course, fucking ghost hunters like Ryan and his buddies.

Team of idiots with fancy little cameras and gadgets and completely unaware of the ghosts around them.

Babbling nonsense as they check for readings, hold out their devices meant to help them communicate with ghosts by scanning through radio stations or some bullshit.

Michael’s seen it all before, people who think of ghost hunting as a hobby. Something they do when they have vacation time saved up and nowhere else to go. The ones who believe in things like ghosts and the supernatural, want to make a living of of it.

Have themselves a following on the internet because they’ve managed to hit that sweet spot between unnecessarily serious and genuinely entertaining. Present their research and findings in a way that isn’t mildly condescending or mocking, and it’s strangely refreshing.

“Look, buddy,” Michael says, wondering what Ryan would do if he knew little Addison over there is pulling faces at him. “I love my family, okay? But there are some goddamned loonies in the family tree. I’m sure you’ll figure it out for yourself when you look into things because it’s not a secret.”

Several members of his family have been committed in the past. Ones from the side of the family that passed on their ability to see spirits on to Michael. Had him thinking there was something seriously wrong with him for the longest time before his dad sent him to stay with his grandmother for the summer when he was a kid.

It made Michael’s life growing up interesting, to be sure. His grandmother watching him to see if his imaginary friends when he was a kid might be more than that.

Ready to swoop in the moment he showed signs of noticing the creepy cat that phased through walls at her house.

Pale gray tabby with a sweet meow and eyes that glowed even when there wasn’t a light on it. (And if you looked a little closer you could see its skeleton just beneath the pattern of its fur.)

Ryan frowns, taking notes in the notepad he’s carrying. Not a phone or a tablet, but an honest to God notepad.

“It, uh,” he says, sheepish note to his voice when he notices the look Michael’s giving him. “The ghosts mess with the electronics.”

That’s a good point, Michael supposes.

It took some time before he was able to strike a truce with the ghosts that inhabit the house and its grounds. Bargained with them to leave his gaming setup and other electronics alone if he kept them in one room. Gave them the rest of the place to roam to their heart’s content.

There were still incidents here and there, but he wasn’t making the drive out to the nearby town to replace things on a monthly basis anymore. Giving the store employee and helpless shrug like he didn’t know why they all happened to mysteriously break on him the same way each time.

“Alright,” Michael says, and looks over to where one of Ryan’s friends is fussing with a camera.

Ryan clears his throat and scurries away, and Michael has no idea what to make of it, so he gives Addison a look when she eyes the camera thoughtfully.

“Don’t fucking do it,” he warns, taking care to pitch his voice too low to be overheard by the ghost hunters. “They’ll be gone by the end of the week anyway.”

Addison pouts at him. All big pale eyes and downturned mouth and poor little thing, but she’s been haunting this place for decades. A downright terror when ghost hunters show up, running amok with the others who get a kick out of fucking with the poor bastards.

“Seriously,” Michael says, and looks over to where Ryan and his friend are checking the camera over and talking quietly. “Let them have their fun.”

Addison sighs, and when Michael looks back at her, she’s gone.

========

Ryan’s friends are assholes, but thankfully they’re Michael’s kind of assholes.

Idiots who should really know better than to go messing around with things they don’t understand, but what the fuck does Michael know, right?

Gavin and Jeremy tend to stick together when they can. Gavin handling the majority of the camerawork with Jeremy not so subtly flexing his muscles at him as he carts around camera gear and other equipment like a pack mule.

He gets this little smile on his face as Gavin tells Jeremy what he’s doing and why when he sets the cameras up. All intent and this, hanging off his every word.

And Gavin. Idiot keeps darting little looks at Jeremy, and it’s kind of hilarious watching the two of them dance around each other.

Geoff and Jack have set up in a room off the dining room. Turned it into small command center with cables running everywhere as they plan out their week here. Where the ghost hotspots are, establishing shots and other shit Michael doesn’t even bother trying to understand while Ryan troubleshoots everything.

Runs all over the damn place whenever someone hits a snag, or their gear goes on the fritz. He looks a little harried when their paths cross, but the annoyed grumbling doesn’t seem to go anywhere, and the others take it in stride.

Lindsay, though.

Goddamn, Michael doesn’t even know where to start with her.

Terrifying, would be good, because she keeps finding reasons to send Gavin and Jeremy off somewhere together. Off to town for that scenic little drive, just the two of them, or into the woods to film scenes for the dramatizations they do.

This little glint in her eye that has Michael staying the hell away from her because she keeps giving him these thoughtful little looks, and he wants exactly none of that.

Not when he keeps bumping into Ryan, and Michael’s dumb heart does this little flip whenever he laughs at Michael’s shitty jokes.

When he so much as breathes, really, but that could be the history of heart trouble in Michael’s family. (In which case he’d vastly prefer that to facing up to the fact he has a goddamned crush on the asshole.)

His dumb heart aside, he likes them because they keep to the few rules Michael set out for them. The ones meant to keep them safe while they’re out here.

It’s easy to get lost in the woods around here, and he doesn't trust them to be able to find their way back.

The caves at the edge of the forest aren’t safe, so of course local kids get lost in them all the time. Lose their bearings and get turned around, and again, Michael doesn’t trust these idiots out there. Tells them if they want to explore the damn things to head into town and hire a guide

A few rickety bridges over the winding river that cuts through the mountains and weaves through the forest that the county’s promises to get around to fixing one of these days.

It’s surprisingly refreshing not to have to call into town to get a crew out here to rescue them from themselves,

Michael appreciates the fact that he hasn’t needed to call emergency services to rescue them from themselves because the paperwork involved is a goddamned nightmare.

========

Caroline likes to sit on the porch swing in the mornings to watch the sunrise.

She looks like she’s in her twenties, hair twisted into a messy bun and wears a pioneer dress. There’s something sad about her, the way she watches the other ghosts, like she’s looking for someone. Hoping they’ll show up here one day.

Michael joins her sometimes, sits on the other end of the swing and gives it a little push to get it started. When Caroline’s having a good day, she keeps it moving.

Today seems to be one of those days, this slight curve to her mouth when he slides a look at her.

Michael’s got a Red Bull because he didn’t sleep well the night before and it made more sense to his sleep-deprived brain than coffee.

Some kind of brain-addled logic in there, but when the ghosts are excited at the chance to fuck with a new batch of ghost hunters it gets noisy.

Or.

Not noisy, just.

Chaotic?

The careless ones slipping into his dreams. Emotions bleeding over and Michael’s mind unable to filter their thoughts and emotions from his. Everything getting jumbled together until he’d woken up feeling this heartrending despair that no one visited his grave anymore before his brain had kicked back in.

So.

Yeah.

It’ll calm down in a day or two after the ghosts get used to Ryan and his friends being here.

Caroline twists around when the front door opens. Slight frown on her face as she looks at whoever came outside before her form flickers and she disappears.

Shy as fuck, Caroline.

Took over a month before she showed herself to him, and even longer before she told him her name. Showed up in his dreams, pretty, young thing with sandy blonde hair and warm brown eyes and this voice he can’t quite remember no matter how hard he tries

Sweet and shy and sad and she’s one of his favorites.

“Oh,” he hears, and turns to see Ryan hovering behind him, looking surprised to find him out here. “I didn't expect to see anyone up this early.”

The rest of Ryan’s groups is still asleep. They had a long night of it hunting for signs of the ghosts rumored to haunt the place, completely unaware of the curious audience they’d attracted with their ridiculous antics.

Someone has to set the food out for everyone, get the coffee brewing, and since this is Michael’s place? Makes sense it would be him.

Still, Ryan’s a decent guy, and Michael’s not a complete asshole.

“You can join me if you want,” he offers. “I don’t bite.”

Ryan gives him an odd look, and a moment later takes a seat on the swing beside him. Takes in the scenery, colors bleeding into the world as the sun climbs over the mountains.

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, lingering tension from Michael’s dreams fading as he revels in what his senses are telling him. Little things that help ground him in the here and now.

Cool breeze brushing his cheek. The slight motion of the swing and it rocks gently, sounds of the others starting to move around inside the house. Ryan’s solid presence beside him and the warmth of his body heat, sound of his breathing.

“So,��� Ryan says, wry twist to his lips like he knows he’s not smooth. “How’d you end up out here?”

As far as opening gambits go, Michael’s heard worse.

From what he’s seen, Ryan’s a giant dork. The way his friends treat him – good-natured teasing, and amused little grins at his reactions when they mess with him help confirm that assessment.

That, and he’s just.

Dorky.

This quality Michael can’t put into words, one of those things you just know.

Michael shrugs, clutching his Red Bull like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. (Which is funny, because it tastes like shit, but it’s also infusing him with precious caffeine, so.)

“Hell if I know,” Michael says, and shrugs at the look Ryan gives him. “I was working as an electrician back in Jersey, and then my grandmother left me this place when she died.”

There’s a bit more to the story, things related to his ability to see ghosties and ghoulies and a promise he made when was a kid too dumb to know better. That fucking ghost cat rubbing up against his fingers, and his grandmother shaking her head, fond little smile on her face.

But it’s not like Michael can tell him that, not with his family history and the way he gets weird looks for living out here on his own as it is. (Like there aren’t people through here all the time anyway looking for a place to rest before going on their way.)

“I came out here to settle the paperwork and just never left.”

Ryan slides a look at him like he knows Michael isn’t giving him the full explanation, but thankfully doesn’t press him on it.

“You don’t strike me as a loner,” he says, because the place is pretty isolated.

The closest town is five or so miles to the east, and the nearest city of any size is an easy twenty or so past that.

Lot of forests and mountains and a scattering of rivers and lakes in between that’s a far cry from his life prior to this. (Michael’s first year here was certainly an experience, that’s for damn sure.)

Michael shrugs because he’s not, really.

But there are people through here all the time and the ghosts are always there. Like to poke their heads into his business, and generally make nuisances of themselves.

“Well, I mean,” Michael says, grins at the hint of color on Ryan’s cheeks as he imitates him. “There’s this thing called the internet these days. Lets me stay in contact with my friends and family, and phones are pretty great too. Also, cars and airplanes exist, which is also pretty neat.”

Ryan laughs, rubbing a hand over his face like he’d forgotten Michael isn’t living in some Victorian novel out here. Has high-speed internet and all the shiny things people tend to have in their fancy cities.

“Right, okay,” he mumbles, something endearing about it. “Forget I said anything.”

Michael shrugs and goes back to watching the sunrise and doesn’t think about how nice it is to share it with someone with a heartbeat for once.

========

Michael leaves Ryan and his buddies alone for the most part. Lets them shoot footage in the attic and down in the cellar basement. Points them towards the old hunting shack in the woods a quarter mile away where local legend says jealous suit murdered a young couple after following them there.

Laughs a little at the exited looks it gets him from some of them, the wide-eyed dread from the others.

Ryan shoots him a look, and Michael shrugs because as far as he knows no one’s been murdered out here. Just kids with their campfire stories that spun out of control over time, gained a life of their own.

“Be careful out there,” Michael warns. “Bears and all.”

Gavin squawks at that, hand gripping the sleeve of Jeremy’s jacket.

“Bears?”

Michael’s chuckle might be a little bit mean as he pretends to think about it. He likes these idiots, doesn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t give them a hard time while they’re here.

“Mountain lions, too.”

There have been sightings of both in recent years, but they tend to stick to places up north. Better hunting grounds and the like.

Less people to bother them, too.

Ryan rolls his eyes and goes over to help them pack up their gear for the trek out to the shack.

“You’re terrible,” he says, but there’s amusement in his voice and something like a smile on his face, so Michael doesn’t take it personally.

========

The week goes by fast, Ryan and his friends excited about the little blurs and blobs they catch on camera. The so-called conversations they have using that dumb little gadget.

Cold spots they run into in the attic and down in the cellar because the ghosts like to play games with people like them. Have their fun where they can, and always careful not to go to far with things.

If the ghost hunters are respectful – not necessarily polite because a fair amount of the ghosts around the place are assholes, but respectful – they’ll give them little things like that.

Use up some of their energy to manifest themselves more fully. Knock something over, become visible. Follow along behind them and place a hand on their skin to give them a chill.

All the things ghost hunting shows claim to have seen and experienced and he loves the way they seem so damn delighted with all of it.

“So you guys got what you wanted, huh.”

Ryan nods, sweet little smile on his face as he shows Michael footage they filmed in the second floor bathroom.

Claire’s favorite spot in the house because it has the best acoustics in the place and she was a singer.

“It’s amazing,” he says, pointing out the faint blur that could be anything, but Michael can see the long, flowing hair and sundress Claire prefers. “Clearest footage we’ve ever gotten.”

Michael hums, wondering if the other locations they’ve visited were actually haunted or just wishful thinking on their part.

“How’d you get caught up in all this anyway?” Michael asks.

Ryan doesn’t seem the type to believe in ghosts and the like.

Too pragmatic.

But, he’s here now. Has been gallivanting around the country with them for a while now, and doesn’t show signs of stopping anytime soon.

Ryan shrugs, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before setting it back on his head.

“Hell if I know,” he says, giving Michael a crooked little grin. “I didn’t really believe in it much when I was a kid. My grandmother loved telling us kids ghost stories and it all seemed pretty impossible? But I got an apartment in college in this old building, probably built a hundred years ago or so, and things just...happened. Things I couldn’t find logical explanations for. Enough that I got curious, did some reading.”

There’s more to it than that, Michael can tell, but he lets it slide the way Ryan did with his half-assed explanation before.

“And then you ran into these guys,” Michael says, gesturing to where the others are huddled around the kitchen table going over footage and what they plan to do for their last few days here.

Ryan smiles, soft and stupidly fond of his friends. A motley bunch to be sure, loud and raucous and more than just a bunch of people who happen to work together from the way they act.

“Hey,” Ryan says, fidgeting with the tablet he’s holding, like he’s struggling to say something but can’t fine the words. Ends up settling for an awkward smile instead. “Uh, thanks for letting us film here.”

Michael glances at Ryan, and feels himself smile because it’s not like it was a hardship, really.

Of all the idiots who’ve come here looking to find ghosts, Ryan and the others have been the least annoying by far.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” he says. “I hope your fans like the episode.”

========

Lindsay catches him in the kitchen the morning they’re slated to leave.

This little smile on her face as she pours herself a mug of coffee and watches him.

“You need something?”

Lindsay’s smile widens as she takes a sip of her coffee. Dainty as all hell, and she never breaks eye-contact, which.

Terrifying.

Absolutely terrifying.

“Alright,” Michael says, slowly, as he tries to make it look like he’s not fleeing the room. “Enjoy your coffee.”

He bumps into Ryan in the doorway. Feels hands on his arm, his shoulder, when he stumbles, and a very solid chest pressed against his before they separate. (Hears Lindsay fucking laughing somewhere behind him.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Ryan’s babbling, cheeks flushed s he belatedly lets go of Michael. “I’m like a zombie in the morning.”

“Uh,” Michael says, flailing for a response. “Same.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Lindsay is full-on cackling now, and Michael is dying of mortification.

Ignores the flickers at the edge of his vision as curious ghosts poke their heads in to see what the ruckus is all about.

“What?” Ryan asks, confused little laugh in there.

Michael shakes his head and holds up his mug of coffee as explanation.

Ryan laughs again, this adorably dorky thing Michael likes way too damn much.

“Yeah,” Michael says, because words are still hard. “I’ve uh. Things to do?”

And then he flees, Lindsay’s demented cackling in his ears, and Ryan’s smile on his mind and stupid, stupid, stupid.

========

“So, uh,” Ryan says, sidling up to Michael. “This is probably kind out of the blue and everything? But.”

Michael looks up from his phone and smiles at the idiot. He looks like nervous as hell, fidgeting with his hat and looking hunted.

It’s been a few hours since they did that little dance in the kitchen, and Ryan and the others are are all packed up. Ready to head to their next destination before going back home to edit everything together for their upcoming season.

He can hear the others yelling to each other to make sure they haven’t left anything behind, last-second checks and general bickering.

“Hey,” Michael says, “everything okay?”

Ryan doesn’t quite wince, his face just does this thing.

Ryan looks around, like he’s checking to make sure they aren’t being watched and looks back at Michael.

“Lindsay,” Ryan says, and bites his lip. “Uh. Lindsay told me to get my shit together, so.”

Michael doesn’t know her that well, but she does seem like the kind of person who’d say something like that.

“Okay?” Michael says, and Ryan’s nervousness must be catching because Michael’s heart is doing all kinds of things in his chest and he feels like more of an idiot than he usually does.

Ryan sighs, and hands Michael a business card.

“Uh...”

A business card.

Not exactly what he was expecting given how nervous Ryan is, but it’s not like he know the guy all that well.

“I figured,” Ryan says, awkward little smile on his face. “It would be a bit presumptuous of me to just come out and ask for your number, so.”

Ryan’s cheeks are this fascinating pink quickly shading to red as Michael stares at him.

“My cell number is on there,” Ryan says, hopeful lilt to his voice at the end, eyebrows going up in the world’s least subtle hint because apparently he didn’t quite succeed at getting his shit in order.

Michael laughs, because the two of them are idiots, aren’t they?

“What a coincidence,” he says, before Ryan can take Michael laughing in his face as a bad sign. He holds up his phone. “I was trying to work up the courage to ask you for yours.”

Wrestling with the notion that they were barely more than strangers at this point. that Ryan wouldn’t be interested in keeping a long distance relationship going for someone he’d just met. Trying to convince him he should try anyway because he like Ryan a whole hell of a lot.

Ryan looks gobsmacked.

“What?”

Michael rolls his eyes and makes a show of entering putting Ryan’s number in his phone, and feeling a little stupidly reckless snaps a picture of him to use as a contact picture.

It’s fucking terrible, Ryan still looking utterly bewildered and confused by this turn of events, and Michael loves it.

“God, that’s awful,” Michael says, and shows Ryan so he can see for himself. “You look like an idiot.”

Ryan shoots Michael a wounded look.

“Hey,” he says, this note to his voice like he can’t believe Michael didn’t shut him down or punch him in the face for hitting on him in the middle of nowhere.

Michael grins at him, and his dumb heart does this little somersault when Ryan smiles back, all soft and shy and sweet and goddamn, they’re so dumb.

“I don’t have a business card to give you,” Michael says, because who the fuck does that? “So I hope this is acceptable.”

Ryan looks confused, but Michael’s already typing on his phone. A moment later Ryan’s phone goes off with a new message notification.

“Nice,” Ryan says, when he checks it, because it’s a happy little smiley face, because Michael likes to stick with the classics and all in these kinds of situations. (Or maybe he didn’t want to start things off by sending Ryan an emoji flipping him the bird. Doesn’t want to send mixed signals.)

Someone starts honking the horn of that van they rented, and Ryan groans because it’s a pattern. Sounds vaguely like a top fifty hit from a few years ago and it’s an amazing display of skill.

“Wow,” Michael says, and very carefully does not laugh at Ryan’s suffering.

“Yeah,” he sighs, reluctant smile pulling at his mouth. “Yeah.”

Rather than stare at each other awkwardly, Michael gets to his feet and walks Ryan to the driveway. Grins at the enthusiastic greeting the two of them get. Ryan’s friends laughing and cheering when they realize he hasn’t been brutally rejected, and the ghosts -

There’s a small crowd of them lined up by the edge of the driveway watching them.

All of them seem amused, this faint sound of laughter the air when they see how close Michael and Ryan are standing.

“Guess this is goodbye,” Ryan says, and like the idiot he is holds his hand out like he expects Michael to shake it.

Michael rolls his eyes and pulls him in for a hug, figures it’s not going to offend Ryan’s delicate sensibilities or give his asshole friends too much ammunition to use against him.

“Call me you fuck,” Michael tells him, and tightens his arms around him when he feels Ryan’s laughter rumbling through his chest.

========

The two of them talk a couple of times a week to start with. After a little troubleshooting on his end Michael gets his webcam sorted out and they add Skyping to their routine.

That turns out to be the worst because there’s a slight time difference, and Ryan usually Skypes him before bed. Looks all soft and sleepy in worn t-shirts, hair a mess and this dopey little smile when he sees Michael.

It’s.

Not a normal relationship they’re working on here, but it’s nice.

Really fucking nice, especially when Ryan texts him random shit if he thinks Michael will appreciate it or calls when he just misses Michael’s voice. (Michael returning the favor there are hundreds of miles between them, and the house gets lonely even with the ghosts and occasional guests for company.)

A few months after Ryan and his buddies came out to film, the episode goes up on YouTube and Michael watches it with Ryan being a nervous Nellie in the Skype window.

Worried Michael's going to offended at something they did, hate him forever or some shit.

But, you know, he doesn’t because it’s fucking good. Their theories about some of the ghosts are completely wrong. Tend towards Hollywood melodrama because that’s what people have come to expect with their ghost stories, murder and intrigue and crimes of passion. Overlook the small tragedies of life, bad luck and unfortunate circumstances and what loneliness can do to someone.

Still, their version of events make for good stories and are sure to get them more views which will be good for them. (It’s not like the ghosts are going to begrudge them that.)

The segments where they interview him about the house’s history paint him in a favorable light. Somehow manage not to make him look like he’s a raging asshole, which has got to be some kind of miracle.

“Did you like it?” Ryan asks, fretting over Michael's reaction.

“Eh,” Michael says, like he’s not going to send links to his family to watch. Isn’t going to set up a viewing for the ghosts, cobble something together they can watch without frying anything because they're definitely going to get a kick out of it. “It’s not terrible.”

Ryan sighs, so very put upon, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth and his body language is all relief.

“It’s great you idiot,” Michael tells him, and it’s not being biased on his part.

The comments are mostly favorable so far, and sure, there will be the usual assholes, but no one listens to them anyway, so who the fuck cares what they have to say? (That is Michael being biased, but really Fuck off with that shit.)

Ryan clears his throat, this thing he tends to do when he’s about to go all bashful, awkward dork on Michael.

“Uh,” Ryan says, and he’s fussing with his webcam, making these teeny, tiny adjustments like it’s out of focus when it absolutely is not. “So. We’ve got this season wrapped up.”

Michael nods, because Ryan’s been keeping him updated on that in between everything else.

“And,” Ryan continues. “We get a break before we start working on the next season. I just need to see to some shit here and then, you know.”

Michael has a feeling he does know, dumb heart sitting up and taking notice in case it needs to engage in thrilling acrobatics bullshit again.

“Ryan?”

Ryan’s giving him this look, like words are hard and he’s shit at them, but Michael knows fucking well what he’s trying to say here.

“I mean,” Michael says, fighting a smile. “I don’t usually take reservations like this, but I guess I can make an exception just this once.”

Ryan snorts, and Michael's smile breaks free.

“How kind of you,” Ryan says, stupid smile on his face. “I’d appreciate it if you would. I was thinking a week, maybe longer.”

That sounds doable. (Sounds goddamned incredible, honestly.)

“Hey, no problem,” Michael says, just to see the exasperation on Ryan’s face, that little sigh he does when Michael’s giving him shit.

“You’re the worst,” Ryan says, sounding like he means the opposite, which is a mutual thing, really.

Still, Michael can’t let that one go, can he.

“Yeah? Big man telling me that over a Skype call,” Michael says, can’t seem to stop the laughter leaking into his voice. “Too chicken to say it to me in person?”

Ryan opens his mouth for a retort, and blinks when he realizes he can when he gets out here.

“Holy shit,” Ryan says, laughing like an idiot. “I’m going to?”

Least effective threat Michael's ever heard, but this is Ryan he’s talking about, so.

“Yeah,” Michael says, so damn fond of this idiot. “You really are.”

A little bit longer and they’ll get to see each other again in person. No crappy phone reception, no laggy internet connection. Just the two of them and this house with all its ghosts and whatever guests decide they need a vacation right then.

Super romantic and all, and Michael cannot fucking wait.

[usaplacesandspaces]

Illinois

PAbingdon

• Big Daddy Totem Pole

Addison 

• Nike Park

Aledo 

Altamont

• On the Rox Pub and Grub

Alto Pass

• Bald Knob Cross of Peace

Alton

• Alton Military Prison, National Register of Historic Places

• Alton Museum of History & Art, Inc.

• Lincoln/Douglas Square

• Miles Davis statue

• Piasa Bird 

• Robert Wadlow Statue

• The Soul Asylum

Arcola

• Arcola chamber of commerce 

• A Walk Through Time, featuring Raggedy Ann and Andy

• Hippie Memorial

• Illinois Central Railroad Depot

• Johnny Gruelle Monument, creator of Raggedy Ann and Andy

Aroma Park 

Ashmore 

Atlanta 

• American Giants Museum 

• Atlanta's Bunyon Giant

• J. H. Hawes Grain Elevator Historic Site

• Mattingly Automotive

• Smiley Face 

Auborn

• Illinois Brick Road

Aurora

• Aurora University

• Bedrosian Plaza

• City of Aurora- Phillips Park Zoo

• Dunham Hall,

• Grand Dental - Aurora

• Hollywood Casino Aurora 

• Philips Park Zoo

• Swimming Stones Sculpture

Barrington

• Langendorf Park

Batavia 

• Batavia Depot Museum

• Depot Pond

• Fabyan Forest Preserve

• Fabyan Windmill

• Fermilab

Lemont

• Argonne National Laboratory

• Argonne Research Library

Batchtown

Belleville

• National Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows 

Belvidere

• Boone County museum of History 

• Highland Garden of Memories 

Benton

• Benton, George Harrison Mural

• Benton IL, Historic Jail Museum

• Franklin County Garage Museum

• Louise Harrison-Caldwell House - Beatles Historic Site

Benville

Berwyn

• Cigars and Stripes BBQ Lounge

• Paisans Pizzeria

• Worlds Largest Laundromat 

Bloomington 

• Bloomington Center for the Performing Arts

• Central Illinois Regional Airport at Bloomington-Normal

• Embark Tree Removal

• Evergreen Memorial Cemetery

• McLean County Museum of History

• McPherson Theatre

• Miller Park

• Miller Park War Memorial

• Miller Park Zoo

• Nord Animal Hospital

• Prairie Aviation Museum

• Steel And Bedrock House

Blue Island

Bourbonnais

* Childrens Memorial Park

* Exploration Park

Braidwood

Braidwood Zoo

Polk-A-Dot Drive In

Breese

Broadwell

• Pig Hip restaurant Memorial

Brookfield

• Brookfield family restaurant

• Brookfield Zoo

Brownstown 

Brussels 

• Brussels Village Jail

Buncombe 

Bunker Hill

• Lincoln statue Bunker Hill

Burbank

• Haunted Trails Family Entertainment Center (Burbank)

Burr Ridge 

• Burr Ridge Veterans Memorial

Cahokia

• Greater St. Louis Air and Space Museum

Cairo

• Fort Defiance State Park

Calumet City

• Calumet City Yellow Smiley Face Water Tower

Cambridge 

• Rosedale Cemetery

Carbondale

• Jeremy "Boo" Rochman Memorial Park

• R. Buckminster Fuller and Anne Hewlett Dome Home

• Saluki Stadium

• Southern Illinois University 

Carmi

• Little Giant Grocery

Carol Stream

• Augustino's Rock and Roll Deli and Grill

Carthage

• Kibbe Hancock Heritage Museum

Casey

• Big Bookworm

• Big Cactus

• Big Nail Puzzle

• Big Pencil

• Big Yardstick

• Casey Country Club

• Cilantros Grill & Cantina

• JJET Rental Sales & Service

• Largest Bird Cage

• Wildflour Bakery & Candy Co

• World's Largest Pitchfork

• Worlds Largest Golf Tee

• World's Largest Key

• World's Largest Knitting Needles and Crochet Hook

• World's Largest Mailbox

• World's Largest Rocking Chair

• World's Largest Swizzle Spoon

• World's Largest Teeter Toter

• World's Largest Wind Chime

• World's Largest Wooden Shoes

Cave-In-Rock 

• Cave-in-Rock State Park

Centralia

• Centralia Carillon

• Centralia Area Historical Museum

Champaign 

• Curtis Orchard & Pumpkin Patch

• Kraft 

• Virginia Theatre

Charleston

• Grace the Shark

• Morton Park

Chatsworth 

Chenoa

Cherry

• Cherry Miner's Cemetery

Chester

• Reids' Harvest House

• Spinach Can Collectibles

• Statue of Alice the Goon

• Statue of Bluto

• Statue of Castor Oyl and Bernice the Whiffle Hen

• Statue of Cole Oyl

• Statue of Olive Oyl/Swee'Pea/Jeep

• Statue of Popeye

• Statue of Sea Hag and Bernard the Vulture

• Statue of Stinger the Yellow Jacket

• Statue of Wimpy

Chesterville

• Chesterville Cemetery

Chestnut 

Cicero 

• Henry's Drive-In

Collinsville 

• Worlds Largest Catsup Bottle

Cornell

• Friendship Shoe Fence

Covell

• Charles Lindbergh Crash Site #2

Crestwood

• Nike Missile Site C-44

Crystal Lake

• The Greenhouse of Crystal Lake

Cullom 

Danville

• Danville Area Visitors Bureau

• Lindley Sign Post Forest

• Temple Plaza

Darien

• National Shrine of St. Therese

DeKalb 

• Ellwood House Museum

• Northern Illinois University

Decatur 

• Chevrolet Hall of Fame Museum

• Wild Dog Saloon

Des Plaines

• Golf Center Des Plaines

• The Choo Choo

• Square Deal Shoe Store

Diamond 

• Diamond Mine Disaster Monument

Dixon 

• John Deere Historic Site

• Lowell Park

• Ronald Reagan Boyhood Home

• Veterans Memorial Park

• Wings of Peace and Freedom Park

Downers Grove 

Durand 

• A. C. McCartney Equipment

Dwight

• Amblers Texaco Gas Station

• Cardiff Town State Historic Site

East Moline 

• John Deere Harvester Works

East Peoria

• Carl's Bakery & Restaurant

• Last Harvest Ministries

• Twistee Treat

Edwardsville 

• Buckminster Fuller Dome

• Center for Spirituality and Sustainability

• Madison County Historical Museum

• Southern Illinois University Edwardsville

Effingham 

• The Cross at the Crossroads

• Merz Heating & Air Conditioning

• Mid America Motorworks

• My Garage Museum and Store 

Elburn

• Larsons Light Show

Eldorado 

• Big John's

Eldred 

Elizabeth 

• Cajun Jack's Bar & Grill

Elk Grove Village

• Busse Woods 

• Ned Brown Meadow 

Ellsworth

• Twin Groves Wind Farm

Elmwood Park

• World’s Largest Radio Flyer Wagon

Elsworth 

• Ellsworth water tower/Baseball

Elwood

• Midewin Iron Bridge Trailhead

Dawson Township 

• Ellsworth water tower/Baseball

Eureka

• Eureka College

• Ronald Reagan Museum

• Section of the Berlin Wall

Evanston

• American Toby Jug Museum

Findlay

• Goat Tower Farm

Forest Park

• Little Teeth Big Smiles Children's Dentistry

• Woodlawn Funeral Home & Memorial Park

Forrest

Jerry’s Hat Museum

Wabash Railroad Model Train Museum 

Jackson Township

• Midewin Iron Bridge Trailhead

Leyden Township

• World’s Largest Radio Flyer Wagon

Windsor

• Goat Tower Farm

[your-dietician]

‘Jaw-dropping’ forecast is warning sign of climate change’s future impact in Washington, scientists say

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/jaw-dropping-forecast-is-warning-sign-of-climate-changes-future-impact-in-washington-scientists-say/

‘Jaw-dropping’ forecast is warning sign of climate change’s future impact in Washington, scientists say

It’s a forecast so hot that it left some seasoned meteorologists initially in disbelief.

Weekend temperatures are expected to approach 100 degrees in Seattle, top 109 in Portland and reach 115 in Eastern Washington — threatening to topple historical records and upend people’s lives. 

“Is this just the models being wonky, or is this a real deal?” said Joe Boomgard-Zagrodnik, a postdoctoral researcher in agricultural meteorology at Washington State University, describing his reaction to initial temperature readouts.

When he assessed the data himself, “it was jaw-dropping.” 

Climate scientists and meteorologists say the forthcoming heat wave — which could persist into next week — is a manifestation of climate change and a concerning signal of what they expect more frequently in the Pacific Northwest, which is poorly adapted to extreme heat.

“This is pretty early in the season to be experiencing so many days where temperatures are record breaking. It’s worrisome. It’s just June,” said Deepti Singh, a climate scientist and associate professor at WSU Vancouver. “This should be a warning sign for us that we’re experiencing the impacts of climate change right now.”

The science of heat

The weather pattern bringing scorching hot temperatures to the Northwest is the result of a large ridge of high atmospheric pressure sometimes called a heat dome.

High pressure systems suppress storms, offering clear skies with full sun, and they act as a cap and trap heat near the surface.  

“Air is sinking and it’s warming as it sinks,” Boomgard-Zagrodnik said. 

This weather pattern itself is extreme, but not unprecedented, said Washington State Climatologist Nick Bond. He does not predict that patterns of pressure will change in the coming decades, though he acknowledges that research is still developing. 

What has changed is that the region has warmed nearly 2 degrees since 1900, according to the 2018 national climate assessment by U.S. Global Change Research Program, crafted with input from 13 federal agencies. 

“Now, when you have heat waves, when that baseline has moved up … it’s that much more severe,” Bond said. 

Heat waves are projected to increase in frequency and intensity across the country, according to the climate assessment. 

Researchers say Seattle and other areas of the Pacific Northwest are poorly adapted to extreme heat. Residents are not physically acclimated to heat and fewer than half have home air conditioning, one of the lowest rates among big U.S. cities. 

And nighttime temperatures, which often provided a respite on hot Seattle days, are less reliably comfortable. In the Northwest, overnight low temperatures are actually warming more rapidly than daytime temperatures.

In the Puget Sound region, average minimum temperatures have climbed between 3 and 4 degrees, Bond said.

Because this weekend’s bout with scorching temperatures follows relatively recent rain, Boomgard-Zagrodnik said he expected little relief at night.

“It’s going to be pretty bad, probably, because of the high humidity” and light evening winds, Boomgard-Zagrodnik said, adding that he would be surprised if overnight temperatures dropped below 70 degrees. 

Show caption

Respites from the heat

The heat wave could have profound effects on Washington state. 

“Hospitals in past heat events have seen marked increases in heat stroke, heart attacks and kidney failure,” said Addison Houston, an environmental health mitigation & response planner with Public Health Seattle & King County, citing an analysis of emergency calls in King County. 

Vulnerable people, such as children, older adults and people with underlying health conditions, need access to cooling during heat waves, said Singh, the WSU climate scientist. 

Seattle is offering at least 13 air-conditioned public library branches, 10 wading pools, nine spray parks and eight lifeguarded beaches as spots to cool down.

“Often I hear: Go to the coast or go to the Cascades,” Singh said. ”If you’re well off, sure, that’s an option, but that’s not an option for everybody.” 

Air quality could worsen, Singh said, because heat and sunlight can intensify chemical reactions that create surface-level ozone, which can inflame the respiratory system.

Any power outages would exacerbate difficulties for those who lose electricity for fans or air conditioning, but utility officials in the Pacific Northwest say that’s unlikely to happen.

Officials at the Bonneville Power Administration, which operates the regional transmission system that delivers much of the electricity to regional utilities, say they should be able to get through the peak heat days without service interruptions.

The Portland-based BPA has benefitted from the return to service of the Columbia Generation Station, a nuclear power plant outside of Richland that is the third-largest generator of electricity in the region and had been down for more than 40 days for refueling.

The hydroelectric dams along the Columbia River, which collectively represent the largest source of the region’s power, have shifted from spring to summer operations, which reduces spill for fish and enables more overall power generation.

“At this time, we thoroughly expect to be able to meet the load demands of our customers,” said Kevin Wingert, a BPA spokesman.

Seattle City Light, which owns hydroelectric dams that provide about half of its power, also appears in good shape.

“We expect to be able to meet projected demand with the high temps forecasted for this weekend and are not anticipating impacts to the grid,” said Julie Moore, a Seattle City Light spokesperson.

Puget Sound Energy’s system is “currently performing well,” and the utility plans to meet all demand with its own generation assets, according to Janet Kim, a company spokesperson.

Still, utility officials say conservation always is encouraged and can include opening windows at night to allow cooler air in, limiting use of appliances that generate heat and turning off ceiling fans when you leave a room.

Extreme heat also increases the potential of wildfires and smoke. 

Unlike other parts of the Western U.S., Washington’s mountain ranges built a hearty snowpack over winter.

“There’s still a fair amount of snow above 5,000 feet,” Bond said. But at lower elevations, mixed grasslands on the east flank of the Cascades are “ready to go” and catch fire, he added. 

The high pressure system is expected to quell winds when temperatures are peaking, which reduces the chances of runaway fires, but also cuts back on power generation by wind turbines that are an increasingly important part of the region’s energy mix.

Next week, as the heat wave eases, winds are expected to pick up and fire dangers will increase, with the landscape baked in heat.

With the robust snowpack, irrigators on the big river systems, such as the Columbia and Yakima, should have sufficient water for orchards and vineyards, Bond said. But portions of Washington remain in a drought, which is particularly severe in the southeastern corner of the state. Crops that often are not irrigated, like wheat and barley, already are suffering.

Bond said climate models are at consensus that the remaining summer months will be warmer than average. He expects stream temperatures on some of the state’s smaller rivers to become “dangerously warm” for salmon and trout later in the summer. 

Disparate impacts

The forthcoming heat event won’t be felt evenly. 

Boomgard-Zagrodnik expects the broad heat dome to suppress large-scale wind patterns, such as the onshore flow typical to the region. But with Puget Sound waters still relatively cool, local winds and geography could create huge differences in how people feel over the weekend.

“Islands and uneven coastlines — the topography and where you’re located relative to the water is going to make a big difference in whether you’ll have the chance to get up to 95, 100 or more, or whether you’ll get a nice breeze in the afternoon,” he said. 

The Whidbey and San Juan Islands are likely to pick up a sea breeze, whereas areas south of Seattle, like Olympia, will be shielded from the cooling flow.  

In Portland, the National Weather Service forecasts temperatures rising to 104 degrees on Saturday, reaching 109 on Sunday before easing back to 104 on Monday. 

This early summer heat, if it reached those levels, would blow away records for three consecutive days. Portland’s all-time high is 107, reached twice in August 1981 and once in July 1965. The record for June is 102.

In urban areas, heat does not affect everyone equally. Analysis of temperature records in King County on a hot day last July showed heat impacts varied widely in communities mere miles apart. Trees mitigated heat while industry and dense buildings intensified it.

Communities affected by other environmental health concerns, such as poverty and pollution, are among the hottest communities, the mapping suggests.

Scientists for decades have warned that our reliance on fossil fuels is warming our world. Now, they say, we’re taking the heat.  

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[luxuryhomeslondon]

Few Facts To Know For Buying Properties In Holland Park

Having a property in Holland Park in London will allow you to enjoy the sophistication and richness of culture. You will love to be here surrounded by exotic villas, stylish restaurants, and more. Here you will be delighted to know more about the property for sale in Holland Park and related considerations before you opt for buying. Having a property in the Holland Park area of London is no less than a royal experience.

Location: Holland Park is located on the western edge of central London, and it is an area of Kensington. You will love the picturesque tree-lined streets and hefty townhouses that existed here.

Post town and Postcode: The post town of Holland Park in London and the postcodes are W8, W11, W14.

Properties for sale: If you opt for buying properties in Holland Park, you will notice a wide range of flats and houses are available for sale. Most of these houses are located in close vicinity to the park. Buyers will love the stunning architecture of these buildings.

Renting a property: Other than selling a property, you can also opt for taking a property on rent. Reliable local agents will help you to find suitable townhouses or flats for rent. These properties are situated near boutiques, shopping malls, restaurants, etc. The properties, that are situated on Addison Road or Ladbroke Grove region are popular for renting purposes. You can consider it as a good investment option.

Feel the tranquillity: Once you are here, you will fall in love with the serenity of the tree-lined streets in Holland Park. This feature has made this place distinguished from its vivacious neighboring cities.

Excellent transportation: Easy and fast transportation has made Holland Park a popular place for residents. The underground Central line will take you to the West End. You can take buses to reach Central London without delay. The motorways like M4, M40, etc. will help to move into or out of the capital easily.

Holland Park has its charisma in welcoming people to this region and a village-like atmosphere. Butchers, grocers, work independently, and you can easily access your required products from them. The shopping centers here offer one-stop shopping solutions to the residents. The societal life is also extremely charming with the presence of open-air opera houses. Properties on sale or rent are listed with the leading real estate sites, and you can take advantage of the same to find the dream property for you in Holland. Do you want to crack the deal to buy a property for sale in Holland Park at an affordable price fitting your budget? If yes, then search for the best real-estate agency dealing in the properties of this location. If you look for our suggestion, then we will take the name of Luxury Homes London.  This agency is having years of experience in the industry. It helped many people in buying the best properties in Holland at a price fitting into their budget. For more information about their services, feel free to connect with the experts of the agency.

Luxury Homes London offers affordable luxury property for sale in knightsbridge, Hampstead, Bayswater, Marylebone, Regent’s Park, St James, St John’s Wood, Mayfair from £5 Million.