#Famis needs a nap

[streetlightgoblin]

They had to get groceries- somebody save Famis I think Macabré might finally drive him crazy

Somebody get this poor man some coffee

[soulrph]

Re: Your answer to OP about being overwhelmed with drafts and your tags to it. Sometimes we need to just need to hear that everything will be okay because it's so easy to forget <3

sometimes, when we look at everything going on in our personal lives and the world around us, it can be really, really easy to apply a similar level of stress and pressure to the things that are meant to keep us calm and relaxed. my mam got me one of those "picture a day" books where you colour in a picture each day until it's filled in, and i actually ended up crying with pure frustration when i couldn't do it for a week and i tried doing all eight pictures in the space of an hour!

(this got super long under the cut JIUASDFBFDAS but there's a huge essay on feelings and the dash belong the readmore! )

we have a tendency to believe that we're SUPPOSED to be keeping on top of everything. but think about it. we have lives behind the screen. some of us have family and friends, some of us have school or jobs to consider, and as i have said since about 2016, IT'S BEEN A REALLY ROUGH YEAR!! we're all exhausted! we're all burnt out! but as the pandemic has proven relentlessly, and we just seem determined not to listen to this, we are all unique in how we handle stress. during the early months, my brother became a total movie buff. loved all the classics, all the westerns, all the movies he could find. i enjoyed writing, but i actually preferred sudoku? no idea why or how, but i clung to sudoku and cookery for all those months. i know people who gardened, baked, painted, sculpted, started businesses, i know people who just rested and napped and relaxed for months on end, and you know what's really spectacular, nonnie? we are all still here, and back at the new normal we knew would come one day.

everything will be okay. i promise you. no matter how shitty you think it is, and god knows, we've all had days where we know it's been unfathomably awful, but it does get better. i quit my job three days ago after just two weeks of working there. i also handed in two weeks notice after two weeks at another job. it's all fine now! it sucks, but after a moment, you recover, and you move forward! i've completed two degrees, that's four years of essays, exams and deadlines, and people have constantly taken my absences and my silences as well as my activity. everything will be okay. there's nothing wrong with being upset and scared by the stuff we see on the news, or the stuff that happens in our lives, in our spaces. there's absolutely nothing wrong with you for having emotions that aren't tranquil and happy. toxic positivity belongs in the trash can. don't ever beat yourself up over the ways that those emotions manifest themselves! emotions are fickle and weird, that's always been a fact! i cried when i dropped a carton of garlic mayonnaise last week at work. no idea why, but it happened, and i'm cool with that, because it wasn't the garlic mayonnaise that upset me, it was just another thing on a really big pile of stuff, right? it's okay to cry and be upset and stressed by stuff.

but here's the thing.

it's okay to feel scared. and it's okay to be panicked. it doesn't matter what you're afraid of anymore. you're not being silly, i swear to god, you're not, i promise you. but at the end of the day, you are not alone. your friends and family are with you. you are loved and supported, and you might need to take off for a few months, and that's okay, because you're doing that to help yourself, and to be safe and to come back when you're able for the dash. there's nothing wrong with that. there's nothing wrong with hiatuses, or deleting your inbox, or archiving your blog fifty times in a year, or getting rid of all your starter calls and drafts. there's nothing wrong with any of that! you wanna know why?? because this is a feckin COMMUNITY!! and i will say that until my final breath, because god help us, lads, we all forget that, don't we? this is a COMMUNITY. we are a family, each and every single one of us. we might be in different fandoms, we might have different views and opinions, but the day that someone decides they won't support their friends through a brief hiatus or a spring clean or revamp of their blog, is the day that they no longer belong in that person's family. we all deserve people who love and support us throughout the changes and transformations we make. and the changes we make on a silly blog on tumblr are just the tiniest drops in the ocean.

delete your drafts. empty your inbox. take a hiatus. if that's what you want, or do whatever you like, and for the love of god, nonnie, friends, loved ones, please, never ever EVER feel a single shadow of guilt for looking after yourself. your family will be here for you when you return from your hiatus. and if someone decides not to be there, then that's okay, too. that's them, okay? that's not you. you do what you gotta do to be happy and healthy. and everything will be okay. but that doesn't mean we aren't entitled to feel stuff that isn't okay.

[district2001]

Leader Maknae Date

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Jangmi x Seventeen (mainly Coups)

Recap: When Seungcheol whisks Jangmi away from practice to ask her a very important question

Words: 2k

Requests are OPEN: Please please please send me what you want to see from Jangmi. I’m also open to feedback :)

Jangmi’s Masterlist

“I swear to god if Hoshi Oppa makes us go through the dance one more time, I’m going to die.” Jangmi complained, as she flopped on the floor in the dance studio.

“If he starts complaining about how our jumping isn’t the same height, I will personally take one for the team and murder him.” Seungkwan agreed.

“You know I can hear you right?” Hoshi yelled from the speakers. Jangmi snickered, praying that he wouldn’t play their song again.

She loved the song, and thought Woozi had done a phenomenal job with it. Apparently the staff weren’t too thrilled though, hoping for something darker. But leader line had backed him up, with Hoshi calling the song ‘pop perfection.’

Her favourite section was her interchanging rap part with S.Coups, where the contrast in their tones was noticeable, yet blended together really well. Plus the dynamic of the maknae with the eldest would look quite cool in the music video.

She reached over towards her bag and grabbed her drink bottle. The room temperature water wasn’t the greatest thing to drink, but she was so thirsty she would probably have Minghao’s hot water without complaint.

After she emptied her bottle, Jangmi lay on top of her bag, closing her eyes to get some rest. She knew debuting would be hard, much harder than being a trainee, but she was exhausted. Between online school, group dancing lessons, private dancing lessons, rap lessons, song writing sessions, recording sessions… the list was never ending. She was barely getting 5 hours of sleep a day, and she needed as much as she could get to grow. She’d made a bet with Dino that she’d grow taller than Woozi, and she wasn’t willing to admit to defeat.

Her short nap was interrupted by someone clearing their voice above her. Opening one eye, she saw S.Coups newly dyed blonde hair looking over her.

“5 more minutes.” She whined, closing her eyes again.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She opened both her eyes this time in confusion of why he was using his leader tone with her.

“Uhh. Yeah. Sure” She sat up, stretching out her hand. Seungcheol grabbed it, and pulled her up to her feet.

“I was thinking we could go grab a coffee?” Seungcheol asked as they walked out the practise room.

Jangmi didn’t know what he wanted to talk to her about, but she had a feeling it was serious, seeing the way he was avoiding her eyes.

“Yes of course.” She replied, fidgeting with her fingers.

They walked to the café in silence, with both of them trying to break it by trying to start a conversation, only for it to die down within a minute.

She was very aware that some bad news was going to be given to her at the café, and was mentally preparing her reaction in case he told her that she’d have to leave Seventeen.

Once they arrived at the café, Seungcheol had asked her to take a seat whilst he placed their order. She asked him for a water, and when he questioned her terrible choice, she explained that it was healthy and free.

While waiting for him to come back, she started playing around with the ring on her finger, a new unconscious habit she had adopted after being given the ring a few days ago. No formal ceremony, a staff member had just dropped it off in the middle of her dance practise with Jun.

She was brought out of her thoughts with Seungcheol plopping down the 2 drinks on the table- 1 lemonade and 1 chocolate Frappuccino. She raised her eyebrows at her leader, who smirked and placed the straw of the lemonade in his mouth. “Eunwoo said this was your favourite drink.”

Jangmi tried to hide her smile, knowing very well that she was not doing a good job.

She took a sip of her Frappé, before setting it down on the table. She knew he was trying to butter her up before breaking the bad news, but she wanted to hear it outright. Not sugar-coated in chocolate goodness.

“Is it ok if I ask you something?” Seungcheol asked tentatively.

“Of course.” Jangmi nervously smiled.

He cleared his throat again, before continuing. “How’s everything?”

Jangmi narrowed her eyes, “everything?”

“You know…” he signalled with his hands, “everything.”

“Good.” She nodded, waiting for him to continue speaking.

“Come on Jangmi, you’ve got to give me more than that.”

She chuckled, happy this awkward tension between them was slowly dissipating.

“It’s been good though. Honestly. It’s a lot of hard work, and I don’t think I can feel my feet at all right now. But it’s been fun. I’m learning a lot.” She smiled politely before adding “thank you for the opportunity.”

“Stop being so polite with me. Let’s go back to how we were before.” Seungcheol dismissed, taking another sip of his lemonade.

“How were we before exactly?” Jangmi cocked her head to the side, waiting for his response. Sure, she had spoken to him during her visits every holiday, but they hadn’t really spent much time together- and never one on one. There was no need to. He was busy leading the boys to debut, whilst she was just a random trainee who kept popping up every few months.

“I don’t know.” He struggled. “Not this awkward for sure.” They both giggled, glad that they both were acknowledging the tense atmosphere.

“Seriously though, I’m really enjoying working with you all. Plus you guys are so talented. Legit. Did you see Minghao’s freestyle dance the other day. I didn’t even think it was possible to be that flexible.”

Seungcheol chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.

“Don’t get me started on the vocals of this team. I heard Seungkwan and Seokmin singing the other day and I was mind blown. And then I found out that they were only messing around. How can they seriously be that good when they are taking the piss out of it.”

“Glad to know you think the team is talented!”

Jangmi smiled, “Of course you guys are. That’s why you’re debuting.”

“Why we’re debuting” Seungcheol corrected.

“Oh right! I’m sorry.” Jangmi bowed again, causing Seungcheol to get up slightly and smack her head.

She faked a pout and took another sip of her drink.

“Is everyone treating you well?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You don’t need to worry. I was friends with most of them before anyway.”

Seungcheol hummed before talking again. “I definitely think you transitioned well. Although, I feel slightly bad for stealing you away from Sungyeon. I saw her the other day and she told me that if any one of us made you upset, she’d come and hurt us.”

“She’s just very overprotective.” Jangmi giggled. She had been so busy with catching up that she barely had seen Sungyeon over the last few weeks. She missed her best friend. Maybe they could go out and get some food together. Well, Sungyeon could eat food whilst Jangmi would be stuck eating salad.

“Well, now you’ve got 13 more people to protect you.”

“I can protect myself, thank you very much.” Jangmi sassed back, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

Jangmi leaned over the table. “Is it because I’m a girl.”

Seungcheol leaned over aswell, looking directly into her eyes. “No, it’s because you ran out of the recording booth the other day after seeing the cockroach.”

Jangmi’s eyes widened. “How’d you-”

“Sungyeon told me.” He smirked, whilst moving Jangmis’ glass away from her elbows. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Jangmi leaned back into her seat in defeat, crossing her arms.

“Stop pouting. That’s my thing.”

“I’m the maknae, I can pout as much as I want.”

“You’re such a child”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Do you always talk to your elders with such attitude?”

“Not the ones I respect.”

‘Ya!” Seungcheol raised his voice, before realising that he had perhaps spoken too loudly in the café.

Jangmi shone her victory smile, and grabbed her drink off the table.

“Is there any reason you asked to hang out with me?” She asked. After their little banter session, she was starting to doubt that she would be leaving the band. Her leader was too relaxed.

“I was getting to that”

“Well, today would be nice, considering we have more dance lessons in 20 minutes.”

“Oh shit!” Seungcheol jumped up from his seat. “Grab your drink, and we can talk the way back.”

Jangmi nodded, before following him out the door. Stopping to yell ‘thank you’ to the staff.

Walking back to the Pledis building, Jangmi noticed how the sun was starting to set. She would have stopped to take a picture, and send it back to her parents, but Cheol started talking at that moment.

“I just wanted to take this opportunity for you to tell me if you were unhappy.” Jangmi looked at him in confusion.

“Like if anyone was making you uncomfortable, or if you were having trouble fitting in. I don’t know you well enough to read your mind, and Vernon said that you’re pretty reserved, like him, so I just wanted to make sure. Even if some members take longer to warm up to you, they will eventually.” She looked over to him and smiled.

Taking that as a sign of reassurance, Seungcheol continued. “I just wanted you to know that it might take a little while for you to feel completely at home. Or as homely as one can feel when they’re literally on the opposite side of the world from their friends and their family. I feel homesick sometimes, even when my home’s just a few hours from here.”

“If anyone mistreats you for being in our team, by talking shit about you let me know, or any of the other members. Seriously. We all look out for each other. And I know it’ll take some getting used to, but you deserved a spot on this team. I’m not just saying it as a leader, but as a friend. And hopefully soon you’ll think of me as an older brother. I overheard you telling Jihoon how you’re an only child aswell. This team is more like a fami-”

Seungcheol abruptly stopped mid-sentence when he realised Jangmi wasn’t walking beside him.

He quickly turned around, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was only a couple of metres behind him, wearing a massive smile on her cheeks.

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused to why she had stopped walking. Considering she was the one who reminded him of rehearsal.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked so quietly, that he could barely make out her question. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, “of course.”

Jangmi smiled into his chest. She had brothers.

Previous: First Official Meeting

Next: Debut.

[nicostolemybones]

Odd One Out

Tw: references of ableism, discussions of consent and boundaries (just to clarify there is not underage sex referenced implied or depicted as a result of this discussion so no worries)

Nico was always the odd one out. No matter what, there was always something about him, always a strike against him. Son of Hades. Immigrant. Gay. Neurodivergent. Disabled. That last one was a relatively new revelation for Nico- it wasn't like he hadn't noticed the pain, hadn't used being lazy or being in the underworld as an excuse for people to leave him alone on days where the pain was so bad he couldn't move- because he didn't want anyone to know. And he didn't want it to be real. All he had going for him was his ability to fight, his freaky powers that gave him the upper hand, his command over the dead. But some days he was in so much pain that he'd lay in bed and cry. Sometimes after using his powers he'd pass out asleep for far too long to be normal. And it was getting worse, because he'd been ignoring it.

It wasn't that he thought less of himself for it. Or that he was ashamed. It was the limitations. And sure, people loved to tell him that he could do anything and he was only limiting himself- but that wasn't true. Sure, today he could go and train with Percy. But he'd probably collapse in pain, potentially cause himself irreparable damage trying to push himself too far. He'd end up in the infirmary with Will having to sit him up whilst he cried out in pain, he'd be unable to stand because the pain would be so bad he couldn't physically load bare.

Simply: he had physical and mental limitations. And Nico was struggling to accept that. 

He was struggling to accept it because yesterday he was running around playing capture the flag, and this morning his hips felt like somebody had a cheese grater on his joints every time he moved, flaring with a sharp and dull burn. His body felt heavy and sore and he felt like he was suspended in a heavy raincloud- he barely had the strength to get up. He hadn't slept last night- he'd tried, but Nico suffered with insomnia. It wasn't abnormal for him to go several days unable to sleep, even with sleeping tablets. It also wasn't abnormal for Nico to flit in and out of long bouts of naps for two days straight unable to eat or move apart from to go to the bathroom. 

He was struggling to accept it because nobody else did.

Today he was using his walker. He'd already had a camper say he didn't need it because he was running just fine yesterday. He'd already had someone chastise him for using the disabled toilet because he wasn't really disabled. He'd already had someone tell him he was useless as a demigod. He'd already had someone say he wouldn't last long because natural selection would pick him off. Not disabled enough to deserve aids, too disabled to deserve respect. Not visibly disabled enough for people to accommodate his needs, too visibly disabled for people to not speak to him like he was an infant- or worse- ask someone else what was wrong with their friend whilst saying what a shame it is their friend is disabled. Nico wished the word used was disabled. Instead it began with an s. Then when Nico yelled at them the next word used against him began with an r. 

He went back to his cabin after that for a shower- he could feel his energy just draining away by the minute and his pain was worsening and he knew he'd probably be unable to shower comfortably soon. He knew he'd probably need his wheelchair for a few days. And he knew camp was absolutely fucking terrible to navigate in a wheelchair. Tables were too low or too high, the apparently flat ground was bumpy and he kept almost tipping out every time he hit a bump, uncut grass kept snagging in his wheels, he couldn't reach a lot of stuff, and the ramps- the ramps were so fucking steep Nico was practically sisyphus reborn but instead of pushing a boulder up a hill it was Nico trying to push himself up a goddamn ramp just to use the bathrooms. Unstoppable force meets immovable object. Nico was scrawny- strong yes, but malnourished and disabled. Pushing himself up those bumpy steep accessibility ramps made him want to tear the whole thing up and scream. And then the doors- wide enough for a wheelchair yes. But not wide enough when someone's arms are at the sides trying to push themselves through it. Nico's arms were so scraped and grazed already from the doors- which were heavy and did not stay open, trying to close and hitting him repeatedly, and then there was so little room to actually manoeuvre anywhere. Nico was losing his mind. And then his cabin- well that was just steps, of course he had to struggle up them.

So despite knowing he should probably use his chair today, he kept to his walker. He was in so much pain and he knew he should be in his cabin or in his chair but it was so much hassle at camp and any time he complained somebody was always there to tell him that camp was fully accessible for people with real disabilities. He was sick of it. Sick of people defining his disability, his accessibility, his capabilities, his limits- sick of people seeing his mobility aids as a burden to Nico. Because no, they weren't a burden to him. They were helping him to fucking move. He needed them and he wanted them. He didn't care if people kept telling him they were unattractive or how much more amazing his life would be if he just tried to walk. Bitch he didn't owe anything to anybody, he didn't have to put himself through pain just to be somebody's inspiration porn. And worse- whenever Nico called someone out, rather than apologising and listening, they'd wax poetic about how much of a good ally they were trying to help and how Nico was being ungrateful.

When Nico emerged from his shower, he was surprised to see Will Solace sitting on his bed- Nico blushed a little, but he was even more surprised to see his walker completely covered in yellow smiley face stickers. "Will?"

"I know people really suck," Will said, "and I know you feel like the odd one out and I know you get insecure because you're tired of everyone's bullshit. So I just- I wanted to remind you that it's all okay. Something to make you smile. Also I wanted you to know that I don't see your mobility aids as ugly or tragic like they all think I do. And I like putting stickers on all my favourite things and- your walker helps you to be in less pain and that's important to me. I don't care if it's bulky or if it's always in our photos. It's a part of you, kind of, and I love and accept all of you, and I hope the stickers don't come across as me trying to improve the walker and make it less ugly and if it does let me know so I can apologise and stuff…" Will trailed off, glowing nervously, in a way that Nico found endearing.

"Thank you," Nico said softly, "for trying to cheer me up, for not- treating me like a burden- for always trying to make me feel like I'm worthy of love."

"You are, Nico," Will said softly, "you're a person, a good person, you deserve to be respected and loved and you deserve the world, okay? And I can't give you the world but I can be cheesy and put my favourite stickers on your stuff to try make you smile. And maybe think of me when you feel sad and you look down at the floor. Because then when you're sad and you look down on the floor you'll see the happy smiley stickers and that's me reminding you that I love you and accept every part of you and assholes can fuck off and shut up. I know a few stickers won't fix everything but I hope it at least makes you feel less alone."

"Will…" Nico knew his angsty demeanor was completely melting. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry if I'm not helping very much…"

"You fucken dork," Nico smiled, making his way to Will. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetcheeks."

"Call me that again and I'll rip your face off," Nico laughed.

"Sure thing. Sweetcheeks." Nico laughed. If Nico was uncomfortable with a pet name, he'd always say so, seriously. He'd communicated this with Will- threats were playful banter in response to cheesy nicknames, and meant he was okay with them. Will knew Nico wasn't uncomfortable and trusted that Nico would communicate if he was. Will rested his hands on Nico's hips, and Nico moved them up to his waist instead. "Sorry," Will said sheepishly, "is that a no-go always or just right now?"

"I'm not sure, Nico answered honestly, "I just felt a little uncomfortable because your hands were so close to my ass and my junk. I think maybe I'd be okay with you holding my hips when I'm not on edge, but wait until I give you the okay to do so? I'll move your hands where I want them to be."

"Of course, I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable." Nico leaned down to kiss Will softly, and Will still looked guilty. 

"Will, I'm not upset. You haven't crossed my boundaries. I trust you. I know that if you get handsy I can just push you away and I know we'll always talk about it. Relax and kiss me. I'm grumpy and I want to be carried to campfire later."

"You mean you want to feel my muscles whilst I carry you?"

"Shut up," Nico blushed, letting his fringe fall over his face, "but yes. I have a gorgeous boyfriend, why wouldn't I take the time to appreciate that once in a while?"

"I'm jealous of your boyfriend," Will joked, and Nico snorted. 

"Fucking dork. Wanna make my day and take me out for lunch?"

"Of course I do! But out of curiosity how much do my chances of kisses-"

"Sleaze," Nico joked.

"I'm kidding, Neeks. Even if I didn't ever get kisses I'd still love you and go out with you. You don't owe me kisses."

"I know," Nico smiled, "I trust you and your self control."

"What about my intentions?"

"Will. You're a teenage boy. So am I. Of course I don't trust your intentions," Nico joked, and Will snorted and glowed.

"Okay okay I want so badly to tell you you're wrong," he giggled, followed by "but seriously. My intentions are to make you happy, not to get in your pants. I mean I won't deny that my mind is very familiar with being in the gutter but I respect you and your body and your consent and your worth as a person. My dirty mind is my responsibility not yours. We're kids, casual dates and kisses are more than enough."

"Will, I love you and I know this," Nico smiled, "It's okay to joke about these things and have these feelings. I don't feel pressured by you at all. It's fun getting you all flustered and riled up. But I do appreciate that you always respect me and I do appreciate that you always clarify that I'm enough. But we've already had these serious talks, it's okay to joke about and talk about it. It's kinda flattering. You're my boyfriend. I'm comfortable with your feelings for me and I'm comfortable enough with you to know how much you respect me and love me."

"Does this mean I can stare at that ass in training?"

"Will. Do you really think I'm not purposely teasing you when you come to watch me train? With the tight leggings and my hair in a bun? Taking my top off?"

"Wait what." Will was staring, dumbfounded. He was bright red to the tips of his ears and glowing. Nico smirked. He liked teasing Will. 

"I know you like it," he admitted, "consider it my treat."

"Neeks you don't have to put yourself on display and wear things for my benefit, my feelings are my respo-"

"Will. Shush. I know you're being respectful and I love that about you but have you thought that I like knowing I make you feel like that? I do it because I want to. Not because you'd like me to. But I like flustering you. I love it when you finally allow yourself to stare at me and you have to excuse yourself. It's fun, it's harmless. We're not crossing any boundaries by flirting. You're allowed to like my body. You don't make me uncomfortable and I'd say if you did. Relax. I like it when I catch you staring at me. When you're eager to kiss me. It makes me feel wanted. I like feeling sexy and wanted. I like knowing that my boyfriend finds me attractive. This is your permission to shamelessly stare at me and think about me. I know you won't cross my boundaries or make me uncomfortable or try to rush our relationship until we're old enough. You're a perfect gentleman but Will please be at least a little selfish sometimes? You can stare at me and you can ask for kisses. It's okay to be needy. It's okay to want kisses. It's okay to want- well, me, things, relationship stuff! I know you're trying to make sure I'm comfortable and happy. But Will. For gods sakes that doesn't mean you gotta act like a monk or something. It isn't a bad thing to be selfish and ask for kisses. You don't need to feel guilty for wanting to kiss your boyfriend. You don't have to wait for me. Just kiss me. Just grab me in the mornings and pull me behind the infirmary and pin me against the wall kiss me silly. Just pull me close of an evening and kiss me slow and hot just the way you like it. I'd tell you if I wasn't in the mood for kisses."

"O-okay!" Will looked like a very radioactive tomato. His blotchy red blush was reaching down his neck and he was glowing like crazy.

"Well?"

"Well w-what?"

"You're dense, Solace," Nico huffed, yanking Will to his feet and kissing him hard. "Kiss me and don't hold back. I trust you won't take it too far."

"O-okay! Yes! I can totally do that! The kiss of your life-"

"Will, stop being adorable! Shut up and kiss me like you mean it-" Will seemed to finally get the message and engage his last brain cell, and gods, Nico could die like this, because Will was a filthy kisser, and gods, Nico loved it. 

Nico didn't feel like the odd one out with Will. Instead, Will made him feel like he was his whole world, one in seven billion. Will made him feel special and wanted and loved. 

-

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[Taglist: @spencerwritestuff @i-am-triple-a @minty-ships @fullobjectcreation] {you can ask to be added/removed! Also yes you can rb if you aren't on here}

[blackasteriia]

Apparently it is a birthday. Apparently that means they must celebrate. (People are weird.) Kane will make her a cake. And Taker... well. He'll finish what he stared pre-burial. Surprise?

Hap Birth–

Three weeks ago Xion buried George Dalton. A middling-age tax accountant that died of terminal pancreatic cancer. When he was twenty-five he won a major cycling tour and never did anything interesting after. He had thinning white hair and his family wanted him dressed in a black suit. Except for having to trim his mustache, the man was unmemorable to Xion. Despite being afflicted with a boring life George was a man of generosity. The visitors at his viewing talked about him with genuine admiration, respect, and tears in their eyes. One-hundred-and-three people visited George Dalton before Xion stuck him in a box somewhere out in a Western plot of the yard. Shoulder-to-shoulder, chattering, eating the catering food while she did homework in the kitchen. It was the most alive the funeral home had been in months. In a few hours it was as hallow as George’s chest cavity. 

Xion shouldered open the backdoor. She stomped-out the dust in her boots and emerged into the dark, empty kitchen. She had cleaned-out the signs of all those people weeks ago– trash in the garbage can, swept, disinfected, reorganized the furniture, and removed an orange juice stain from the carpet. The house settled on its frame with a low groan. Birds chirped outside the windows. No foot steps or distant voices. However, breakfast dishes piled beside the sink and there was a pan on the cold stove. A chair pulled-out from the kitchen table. Despite it just being her and the dead bodies in the fridge, it looked lived on. Xion washed the plate and pan, left both on the drying rack. She dried her hands on the dish towel and left the way she came. 

Encouraged by the Spring rains, grass sprouted in the yard. Dandelions made a serious contention for flourishing despite the threat of the lawnmower. With a little extra water and warmer winds, the bushes flowered. Not a cloud in the sky and the arid scent of the sands promised a heated day. Xion walked along the side of the house, shoes dampened by the morning dew. The doors to the workshop were left open to let in light and fresh air. She shoved her hands in her pockets and stepped inside. Xion blinked as her vision adjusted to the low light. 

“‘Taker?” She called, glancing over the power tools, tables, and bikes. Movement near the back drew her gaze. He knelt beside a bike, hair tied back, and hands covered in grease. Xion wandered into the workshop. “I’m going to Laredo today to run some errands and get those cosmetics you need for the Holler fami– Holy shit?!”

Xion’s train of thought derailed, crashed and burned. ‘Taker worked on a medium-size motorcycle with the repurposed and repainted frame of a Harley sportster. For the past two months Xion had ordered and scavenged the parts needed for the design. Stuff a sleek Harley design with a Japanese engine for more power and efficiency. Alter the wheel and chain for more torque. Lower the seat for better balance and control. Following the notes and ideas ‘Taker outlined before his death. Left on his night stand for her to find by accident. He never got to build it, so she might as well. It was a design too cool to never realize. And admittedly, in the excitement of ‘Taker-isn’t-dead-anymore’ she forgot about it. 

The real twist was that ‘Taker got to finish it after all.

“When did you–” Xion circled around the bike. In her mind she compared the notes and the sketches to the real thing. Saw all the ways his vision differed from hers, how the idea never compared to the execution. “You built this in two weeks?”

“After I finally found the notes you stole,” ‘Taker pushed to his feet. He wiped the grease off his hands with a rag. 

“I didn’t steal them, I found them and you weren’t there to stop me,” Xion muttered. She knelt beside the bike and inspected the engine. That was the part she was most uncertain of: making an entire bike out of spare parts. She’d have misplaced something and the damn thing wouldn’t start. Made her wish she was here to see him do it. Xion glanced-up, ‘Taker lifted an eyebrow. “Also you were dead and someone had to do your laundry. This looks incredible, I don’t know what to say.”

“You gonna try it our or what?” ‘Taker asked, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rush me when I’m admiring your handiwork,” Xion grumbled. She reached for the handle bars, leaning her balance on the front of the bike. Xion swung her leg over the back and settled into the seat. “I think the most impressive part is you were able to build this bike and get eight hours of sleep a night. That’s really impressive, daddy.”

“I took naps,” ‘Taker said. He smoothed his hand over his jaw. Contemplation read in the furrow of his brow. 

“Dirt nap doesn’t count,” Xion quipped.

“You got taller,” he noted. Xion flashed him a grin, all teeth. ‘Taker knelt beside her right knee and fiddled with the pedal under her foot. “Length good? You can reach the ground alright?”

“I ain’t that short,” Xion drawled. It was his turn to grin, suppressed with a roll of his lip between his teeth. “It’s fine daddy– let’s go ahead and run it. I wanna hear what the engine sounds like.”

‘Taker unhooked a carabiner with a bike key looped through it from his front belt loop. Dangling off his finger he dropped the key into her waiting palm. Xion kicked the bike up into neutral and turned the ignition. The engine caught and then rolled to life. Low and clean, it purred; mirroring with the laughter building in her chest. Gentle and slow, she revved the engine, rolling back the throttle and feeding it a little gas. Quick and responsive, biting but not too loud. Xion put the brake on and removed the key to turn it back off. 

“That good enough for you?” ‘Taker asked. He ruffled her hair, sliding his hand down between her shoulders. 

“It’s perfect,” Xion said. “Better than I imagined, thank you--”

“Once you’ve tried it out proper, you can thank me and tell me how good it is,” ‘Taker cut her off. “It’s your bike, you can do whatever you like with it. After you ride to Laredo today we can make any adjustments you think it needs. Make sure it suits you like it should.”

“I was going to ask if you need anything besides the cosmetics,” Xion asked. She dismounted the bike. ‘Taker took one side of the handlebars and she the other. Together they pushed the bike out of the workshop. A brush of wind struck her cheeks and played with their hair. 

“Nah, you just be careful,” ‘Taker told her. “Lemme know when you’re on your way back.”

“Will do,” Xion promised, she leaned over the bike to hug him. “See you in a couple hours.”

In twenty minutes Xion cruised down the highway just over the speed limit, headed West. Between gears Xion coasted down flattened hills and tested the acceleration on the straight-aways. Cows lifted their head as she passed their pastures and stared her down while she idled at stoplights. The horizon was a long line, broken by farm houses and stands of trees meeting with the sky. Strips of sand, palm trees, and risen desert outcrops dotted the landscape.

Laredo arose in the hills. A sprawling border city of concrete and asphalt cut in half by the Rio Grande. Sparse trees grew out of the concrete, the streets warmed with the cloistering of buildings and bodies. On a Monday morning few wandered the sidewalks. Xion ran her errands, picked-up the cosmetics from the beauty store and the few things Aeleus needed. As noon approached the sun arced overhead and wind rushed the city streets. The bell jingled as Xion entered the bookstore, hidden in the shade of a side street. The clerk procured the textbooks Xion ordered. After perusing the aisles but making no other purchases, Xion emerged back out onto the sidewalk. 

She stepped off the curb and approached where she parked her bike beneath a popular tree. A small white box rested on the seat of the bike. Xion shifted her burden from her hands, securing the bags in the rear compartment. She picked-up the box, felt its weight. Xion popped the lid. Inside was a cake for one, covered in smooth white frosting, chocolate shavings, and adorned with a card.’Red velvet,’ it read. Xion looked-up and down the street. She closed the lid, corners of her mouth pulling into a grin.

Daddy built her bike and she got a cake for her birthday after all.

[telltheworld-phff]

Chapter 46, part I: My best friend’s wedding

Carol did have to thank Princess Sofia for the little push she had given her a couple weeks ago. She decided to be bold and to give Harry the chance he’s been patiently waiting for. She was more loving towards him, not that she wasn’t before, but she was loving in a way enough to show him, because she was still afraid of speaking about it, that they did go to a next level.

When they thought luck was finally getting on their side, their schedule became so packed and full that they barely had the chance to see each other. Harry had to go with his grandmother to a long visit up north, Carol’s work was going amazingly and she was hosting workshops and training programs. She started easy, with all the BBC employees in London. She had to adjust her hours because of the amount of shifts they had and it came out as a huge success. They were starting to create a magazine and everyone was contributing with ideas and photographs and contact information to some people they wanted to interview. That’s why her boss said they should expand to other countries.

And that’s when she thought she’d go mad.

And that’s when her already full schedule became even fuller.

Because she had barely spent any time at home.

Because she was receiving lots of angry texts from her sister, because she had missed all the fittings to her dress.

Because she had promised her mom, she’d be in Brazil for at least two weeks to help her with the last errands for the wedding.

She was frustrated because obviously she had too much on her plate, and that’s when she opened her e-mail and dreaded opening the message that said “Planned Trips”. With a sigh, she opened it and saw all those places she’d be able to visit, but at the same time she just wanted her home. She just wanted an opportunity to breathe.

Her schedule for the next two months was something like this:

April

2-6 Copenhagen, Denmark

10-12 Cologne, Germany

25-27 Paris, France

May

4-9 Warsaw, Poland

14-19 Stockholm, Sweden

23-27 Johannesburg, South Africa

It’s not like she didn’t like traveling (she still hadn’t left London to go anywhere), or that she didn’t like her job and to be traveling with something she had created. It was just...

It all was happening so fast, and even though she was spending a lot of time in her office, sometimes she still pinched herself to see if it wasn’t a dream that she was about to wake up from.

She loved everything that had happened in her life.

What she wasn’t comfortable with was the pace things were happening.

Just when she had settled down to the idea of living abroad, dating and prince, getting a master degree and finally totally catch up with her workplace and tasks, people started to add things to her ever growing piles of things she had to give attention to.

She closed the e-mail and took a breath. Freak out right now wouldn’t help her go anywhere.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds when a colleague knocked on her door and asked if she was ready to the conference call.

She wasn’t. But she lied and went anyway.

x

She had just arrived in London from Germany, letf her suitcase at home and went for something to dinner.

“Hey babe.” she said when he picked up his phone. She was at a Sainsbury’s buying her dinner. “How are you?”

He smiled when he heard the endearment.

“I’m better now. And you?”

“Tired. Bit stressed.” she said while getting a bottle of orange juice. “But tomorrow I’m working from home, so I have time to pack. I can’t believe the wedding is next Saturday.” she said after paying and walking back to her place. “My mom must be so disappointed because I couldn’t get there earlier.”

“I know! Seems like it was yesterday.” he said leaving the car in front of his cottage. He too was working all day at St. James. “And I already told you, Carol. Your mom understands that you didn’t go earlier because of your job. Your very good paying job.”

“It seems that you want to date me for my money, Harry. Do you? Do you want to date me because of my money?”

“You know I want to date you besides your money… Already told you that.”

They both laughed and she took a moment to appreciate his laugh.

“Is your dress ready?” This had become an inside joke because he knew she hadn’t been to any fittings.

“It is. But I don’t know if it’ll fit… might’ve lost a few pounds these days. Let’s not mention that to Hailey. She’s been complaining about the fact that my mom lives in another country and all the fittings went smoothly. I live in the same city and was always busy and never found time to go to a single one...” Carol laughed at that while walking towards her flat.

“Oh boy...” Harry said loosening his tie. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah… I mean. I’m not the bride. No one will be looking at me.”

“I will...” he answered.

“Well… you’re my date. You’re obliged to.” they both laughed while she opened her flat’s door.

“I miss you.” Harry said and she could actually feel how much he meant it.

“Me too...” she answered biting her lip.

“Can’t wait for this trip. Your work is stealing you way too much from me.” he said and actually pouted at that.

She laughed because she knew he was pouting. But she didn’t comment on his statement, just like he knew she wouldn’t.

“So I heard you and Sofia have been texting each other.” Harry said after a comfortable silence between them.

“We are!” Carol sounded excited. “She’s such a sweet person, and she’s giving me some advice. We are going to have lunch together when I’m in Stockholm next month.”

“I knew you’d like her. Carl Philip scored big when he married her.” Harry went to the kitchen to heat something for him to eat. “She’s someone you can trust. You know, in my circle you have to be careful with what you say or do. It’s sad that we can’t just make a friend at a park or bar, that we have to constantly watch our behavior. So I think it’s important for you to have someone you can trust on. She’ll help you a lot.”

“He did. Didn’t he?” Carol smiled. “But it’s weird that I’m developing a friendship with a princess.”

“You’re developing a relationship with a prince… Thought you’d be used by now.” Harry said and Carol went silent once again. “She’s the first of many, though.” They both laughed at that.

“Who knows?”.

X

She had checked her e-mail account twice while waiting to board the plane. She was still working, even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t. The plan was: get up early, go for a stroll at the park, go back home to pack and start working by 9. Then, she’d take her full lunch hour so she could get a manicure and then go back and work until 4:30. Then, it was vacation time for she had taken a few days off, on holidays. But obviously she woke up early and decided to check her e-mail. What was going to be just checking became full working and when she realized it was already mid-afternoon and she hadn’t done anything.

She answered to the last e-mail and started leisurely browsing.That’s when she saw the news:

“The Marshal of the Realm is delighted to announce that HRH Crown Princess Victoria gave birth to a son on April 10, 2018 at 5:48pm.

Both mother and child are in good health.”

She couldn’t help but be thrilled. Her Royal watching-heart was happy for the family and Swedish christenings were the most fun ones to watch.

She sent a text to Sofia, congratulating on her newborn nephew.

She felt her phone vibrating, but they were calling all passengers to board, so she didn’t see who was texting until she had found her seat. She had got two messages.

H: Safe trip, babe. See you in Brazil.

S: Thank you, Carol. He’s so cute. Also… a little secret: his name is Arthur. Xoxo

She took her time to answer to both of them, and then texted her mom saying she was on her way home.

The flight was uneventful but long and tiring. She arrived at Sao Paulo and had a connection to the other flight.

Her mom had decided to get married in Fernando de Noronha, one of Brazil’s postcard and one of the most wonderful places on earth. But since it was an island and also a natural reserve, getting there was difficult and even bureaucratic.

When she finally arrived in Noronha, several hours later, her mom and Flavio were waiting for her.

She received the most calming and comforting hug from her mom. That lasted forever and they both teared up.

In Portuguese there’s a word that means “I miss you”, and it’s called “Saudade”. In that moment both mother and daughter, that had never been this long apart were witnessing and feeling that saudade was painful and bittersweet.

After the compliments, they boarded the rental car and went to the hotel.

Carol was so tired and jet-lagged that she only wanted a shower and a bed to nap. She didn’t even wanted to go sightseeing just now. She needed rest and probably food. Brazilian food.

After she had her check-in and went to her bedroom, she found a giant bouquet of pink roses on her bed. She knew who had sent that before she got the card. And even in her state, she appreciated his gesture.

“When you get this bouquet, it’ll mean that we are only a couple hours apart. Hang in there, my love. I am on my way. -H.”

She smiled and smelled the flowers. She asked the reception for a vase and put them on water.

She took a shower and tried to wait for him awake. But her tiredness took the best of her and she fell asleep.

X

When Harry arrived at the hotel, he first asked for Maria and Flavio. He wanted to congratulate them and thank them for the invitation he didn’t think he’d get.

The hotel manager that was waiting for him on the reception told they were at the beach. And for him to get there he would have to simple walk towards the end of the lobby. Harry was impressed by the beauty of this north eastern Brazilian island.

He soon found Maria that just forgot he was a prince and embraced him like he was his son. She asked him a few things she had learned. She was fussing over him like a caring a protective mother and he had forgotten how this felt like.

Flavio also greeted him like part of the family and he even spotted Hailey on a jet-ski, playing with some unknown person.

“Where is she?” he asked as soon it was polite enough to change the subject.

“She’s taking a nap.” Flavio answered.

“I think you could also enjoy a nap.” Maria said. “Room 202.” she blinked at him.

He politely excused himself and went to the room. He asked his P.O’s to just leave him be for a couple of hours. The island was secure, the hotel was only booked with wedding guests and to be honest he didn’t give a damn about being spotted.

He only wanted to be with her.

With the woman that had turned his world upside town with just a smile.

The woman that would soon be, officially, his girlfriend.

He knocked on the door and no one answered. He tried to see if it was locked. It wasn’t.

As quietly as he could, he entered the bedroom and saw her sleeping peacefully on the bed.

He couldn’t help but smile.

He took of his shoes and shirt and laid beside her on the bed. He caressed her face and she smiled. He gently pulled her body towards his and his heart felt content when he noticed that even sleeping, her body recognized his. Because she snuggled on him without even noticing.

In that moment Harry knew for sure that he had made something right along the way. That the wait was worth it. Because Carol had said, without saying a single word, that she was his. In the  most sincere way.

IT’S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE Y’ALL!!!!

I know it’s a short chapter and that you deserve more. I know. But I thought it was best for me to post this, and then work on the rest of it than to post it all God knows when.

Happy Holidays and thank you so much for reading my story and for sticking with me during the laptop break. It still isn’t fixed, but let’s not focus on it. Shall we?

The next chapter will probably come on the new year, but I’ll do my best to post it sooner.

As always, let me know your thoughts on this chapter and suggestions to the other ones.

[storiesabouthumanandthings]

The Martian and The Jilted Lover

CHAPTER 17

(Author warning, some of the following may be sensitive for some readers. I have tried to label them as they may set off triggers for those who have dealt with abuse. If I have missed a needed tag, please send me a message.)

The day to leave Mars was quickly approaching and yet during their packing and sorting and preparing the ship, there was still no sign of Martha’s real name.

“Do you remember anything about your old life on Earth?” asked Iris, hoping that with all the belongings they had been going through maybe triggered a memory with Martha’s real name.

But Martha just shook her head, “Nothing more than I have already said. At least nothing I care to remember.”

“What about your scars?” Iris pushed, “Do you remember how you got them? You have so many of them? Were they self inflected, clumsy child, fits like the one on your foot now?”

Martha looked away, “I remember most of them now. A few are just from being clumsy but most…well most are from my family.”

“Your fami..?” Iris suddenly realized what that meant. She started back peddling quickly, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know, i wouldn’t think that…” Martha cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“It’s ok. I never told anyone about this. I can remember lying to doctors about where injuries came from even when I was little. I think some might have suspected at least based on the looks they gave me.” Martha said plainly, staring off into the distance.

Iris clenched her fists, “And they did nothing?”

Martha shrugged, “People don’t like to get involved without irrefutable proof. Even if they suspect things.”

Iris still angry and concerned, “But still, nobody did anything? Teachers? Aunts and Uncles? Nobody?”

“We learned how to hide it. Make up, long sleeves, reasonable lies. No matter how bad it got, we would never let anyone know. For some reason it seemed shameful and embarrassing. If I had ever said anything somebody probably would have. But they are dead now so it doesn’t matter.”

Even with Martha turned about half away Iris could see the weird blank look.”No you’re wrong, it does matter. It matters that they hurt you and that you’ve been hurting yourself to keep their secret. If you feel up to it I’d like to know. It might help to talk about the things they did.”

Martha let out a single solemn laugh, “I think it would be quicker to talk about what they didn’t do.”

They stood quietly for a moment before Martha opened her mouth, “The little circles are from cigarettes mostly. This big one was from a cigar for missing curfew one night when they were having a party.” Martha lifted up her shirt to expose her ribs, “This black mark is pencil lead from my older sister when we got in a fight and she stabbed me with a pencil.” Iris sat in horror as the list continued for a while. Martha ended with a group of small cigarette burns with a tattoo of a circle with a face and arrows over it. “These i am actually proud of. Each mark was for $10 stolen, that was the rule. I stole $70 to see a band in concert. I knew the punishment but I did it anyways. That was the last punishment I would receive. Two weeks later I moved out and a year later I got the band logo as a tattoo to remind me that some dreams are worth the pain. That’s what motivated me to get to Mars. In a weird way, this may have saved my life.”

Iris looked at Martha not hiding her own tears. Martha looked stoic, strong  “How?”

Martha was confused, “How what? How did they do this to their children, to each other? Or?”

“No,” Iris interrupted, continued between ragged breaths, “how are you here? How are you so strong?”

Martha grabbed Iris hand and gave a small squeeze, “I don’t know. Maybe it was just pure stubbornness or maybe the music helped inspire me. I just knew I didn’t like where i was, so I knew I had to make a change, even though I didn’t know where that would take me.”

Iris blurted out, “But how? How are you so strong? Here i am, falling apart just hearing about it but you lived it. Sure, my family sucks too but they never hit me.”

Martha was now concerned for Iris, “Well you know what they did to me. What did they do to you?”

Iris was shocked by the sudden switch. she was trying to help Martha but now Martha was trying to help her. Iris just thought of how truly amazing and strong Martha was. This must be the reason she was able to survive being alone for so long. There was a cold nose at Iris’s other hand, Star trying to comfort her too. Iris looked at Martha. Iris could feel how red and puffy her face and eyes were. Iris took deep breaths to calm herself.

“Well I guess it is only fair for me to share my story. My family disowned me before I started college. I was outed as gay.”

“But they made it legal on Earth in many countries to have gay marriage and other rights. Did they reverse that?”

Iris shook her head, “Some tried, saying the destruction was caused by sins such as homosexuality, but that belief is only held by a small few. And I was luckily enough to be born into that small few.” Iris began to tremble.

Martha squeezed her hand, “It’s ok if you need to stop.”

Iris shook her head and continued, “It wasn’t just that. It was before that. Growing up, I was always compared to my siblings and cousins. Not pretty like my name would suggest. Not smart enough. Always second best to somebody in the family. So I thought that I could find a niche that the others haven’t gone into. That’s when my obsession with Earth started. That didn’t please them either.” Iris looked out the window to the sky, petting Star and squeezing Martha’s hand tight. “They though my studies were stupid. Just like Jordan.” Iris bit her lip, trying not to scream at herself for being so stupid. For even dating someone like Jordan.

Martha reached across and brushed Iris’s lips with her thumb to get her stop biting it, worried she was going to make herself bleed. Iris looked back to Martha who was now crying too. This made Iris’s face squish in confusion. Why was Martha crying now? This is nothing compared to what she actually went through.

“Why are you crying?,” Iris had to know why.

Martha steadied her voice, “Because all of that must have hurt you. And knowing you were hurt, hurts me too.”

Iris shook her head, this is making less sense, “But you went through so much worse and didn’t shed a tear. Why now? This is nothing compared to what has happened to you.”

Martha gave a comforting smile, “It’s not a competition. It still hurts you, just a different type of hurt.” Iris realized she was right. and she was mad at herself again, comparing herself to others, what she ran away from but was still doing it unknowingly.

Iris hugged Martha tight. It felt good to let it all out and to have someone understand. Martha held Iris, letting the silence echo in the domes. It was nice. It was surprising. Martha hated silence but for this once, this one instance, it was nice. it was comforting. For once the silent Wasn’t violent. Iris broke the embrace.

“Now what?”

Martha shrugged, “Does it matter? It’s just me and you. and we have nothing but time.” Iris nodded and knew Martha was right. It didn’t matter. They could stay there forever if they wanted, it’s not like the school could force them to leave. They could have walks the Mars Hope Forest and nap in the shade. Just listen to Martha’s music and watch movies. But that’s not the plan, that’s not what they are meant to do. There is still work to be done. but for now, Iris had a better idea. “I don’t know about you, but a nap sounds perfect right now.” Martha nodded. They stood up together and walked into Martha’s room together, hand in hand with Star trotting behind them. They laid together, arms wrapped around each other, with Star between their legs. It was the best sleep either of them had in a long while.

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[junipersn0w]

i don’t post personal things on here but my family really needs help. last night a little after 10 my brother, who had been at the hospital with his girlfriend who was in labor with their daughter, suddenly passed away. he was in the room with his gf and took and nap. when a nurse came to check on her he was unresponsive. if anyone can help out at all that would be amazing. if you don’t have the means to donate please share this. his daughter was born around 5:30 am this morning and she is as healthy as can be.

[nico-meridius]

Afternoon Fic - Angel AU (Part 2)

Well yes it’s back.  Still not sure where this one is going, but it’s here!

Part One - way back from last year *snickers*

Small section from Part One just to catch everyone up.  Also, at the end of this section will be pictures of who I’m ‘casting’ as Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael.  

Previously on Afternoon Fic ....

"MICHAEL!"

One of Harold's eyebrows rose at the 'Oh Dear God Help Me' expression on John's face, and he couldn't help wonder if it was an actual prayer. "Someone you know?"

"One of my brothers."

Harold looked over to see a smaller redhead walk through the door, eyeing the place with critical green eyes.  He was thin, but held a strong build.  "Nice. I like the apocalyptic look, it suits you."

"Uriel, I take it Gabriel called you."

"I felt a disturbance in the Force, figured it was you doing something stupid."  He smiled over at Harold. "So he's the one, he's handsome."  He then glanced down.  "Michael you do realize that's a Hell Hound."

"Yes." He petted Bear.  "I rehabilitated him."

"Hell Hound?"  Harold stared at the dog, then back at the Angel.

"I told you if anything touched you he would eat them."  Michael's smirk was positively wicked.

On to today’s Afternoon Fic

***

Uriel stared at them, blinked a few times, sighed then rolled his eyes.  "I see.  I'm Uriel, but you can call me Ben."  He moved across the room, and held out his hand, Harold took it hesitantly. "As Michael is being rude and not introducing us."

"I was hoping you would go away."

"No luck, Gabriel is bringing food, and Raphael is on his way."  Uriel scooted around the dog and began exploring the library.

Harold glanced back down at Bear, then at John.  "Is this a good thing?"

"No." Michael stood, grabbing Ben by the collar.  "Out."

He shifted, a pair of dark rich brown with a tint of red wings sprung forth, knocking Michael back. "Oh no, dear Michael." Uriel gave him a knowing look. "We've all been exploring His creation for centuries now, looking for our one, and now that you found yours. There is no way you're keeping us out. Hell Hound or not."

Bear snorted.

Harold stared at the dog for a few moments.  "Is he really a Hell Hound?"

"I can see his true form."  Uriel cringed at the slobbering beast.  The red eyes glared at him, firmly set on protecting its Master.  The Archangel had no idea how Michael rehabilitated it, but it was loyal to him and Harold.  But then there were not many who didn't bow to Michael's power.  "He's not pretty."

"Then I prefer this form."  Harold rolled his chair to one of the filing cabinets and pulled out treats.  He noticed they were fresh, it would seem John did some shopping while he was a sleep.  Bear yipped making his way over to Harold, sitting at attention. "You're a good boy."  

The dog snagged the treat and went back to his bed.

"How?" Uriel looked at his brother. "How did you pull that off?"

"He was exhausted, almost depleted.  I'm not sure if he got lost or abandoned.  Some white supremacist was using him as a guard dog.  I gave him an opportunity, he took it.  When I introduced him to Harold, he decided he was worth serving and has been loyal since."

"Only you."  He made his way over to the computers, and sat in one of the chairs facing Harold. "So we have lots to talk about."

"I am not sure what you think you'll learn from me."

"I know all I need to know about Michael, it's you I'm curious about."

"I'm a very private person, Ben."  Harold gave him a hard look, before focusing on his computer and ignoring the Angel.

"Did Uriel just get dissed?"  

It was the voice from the rooftop, Harold turned to see the same young man, with a genuine smile. The Emerald Green wings were folded against his back, as he entered into the room.  "Dude, that's a Hell Hound."

"He's perfectly civilized unlike some people of late."  Harold gave him a scathing look, part of him wondering if he was going to get smited.

"Oh Michael, he's perfect."  Gabriel punched John in the shoulder, petted Bear, and then flopped onto the couch. "Warning… Raphael is right behind me."

"I thought I smelled fish."  Uriel smiled at his brother.

"Very funny, brother."  The voice startled Harold, it held a thicker accent.  Though Ben's had a slight hint of British or cultured, this one sounded as if he was from Europe.  "Well the Hell Hound is new, but the abandon library isn't."

"Raphael." Michael sighed as he stood up, moving towards Harold to give him some form of protection from his brothers.   "Now that your curiosity is settled, you can leave."

"That's adorable he thinks we're just going to leave?"  Gabriel smirked.  

"You disappeared from us, Michael."  Raphael pointed out, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his suit pocket. "It's not like you."

"Are you wearing Armani?"  Harold asked, taking in the new Angel's wardrobe.  It was a designer suit, dark black, with a white shirt, very much 'The Man in the Suit', and if he looked carefully he was sure he was wearing hand crafted leather shoes.  "I mean … well compared to."  His hand waved between Gabriel and Uriel, who both eyerolled and shrugged.

Gabriel had preferred simple fashion, jeans, t-shirt, work boots.  It was comfortable and he eased into variety of different crowds.

Uriel wasn't at all insulted, and much like Gabriel he preferred comfortable clothes, but then his job didn't entail needing a suit.  The jeans and oversized sweater, with biker boots and jacket was good enough for him.

"He has to look sharp at his job."  Michael gave his brother a once over.  "Guarding the Pope, he's been playing the Inspector of the Vatican Police."

"Don't forget Commandante of the Vatican Fire Brigade also."  Raphael gave him a smirk.  "Though I should hand that job over to Uriel."

"I carry the Flame of God, not put them out, you'll need to talk to St. Florian." Uriel smirked.  "But we're not talking about me, we're talking about Michael's One."  He waved his hand over to Harold.

Everyone turned to see Harold typing into the computer.  He was pulling up websites and information on The Vatican, Vatican Police, Swiss Guard, Saints …  He paused and looked up. "I'm a bit behind on this whole Angel network."

"Michael."

Reese bit back a snort, only Raphael had the ability to make him feel like he was in trouble. He swears he learned the tone from the Pope.  "So who's watching His Holiness?"

"The Swiss Guard doesn't carry a spike for show, plus I got my men on it, and added a few guardian angels.  St. Peter said he would keep an eye out for me."  He walked into the room, pausing for a moment taking in Bear. "Think I could get one?  I could go with the whole eat someone if they hurt him kinda thing.  Plus the Pope likes dogs."

"You do realize it's a Hell Hound."  Uriel asked, giving his brother a once over.  "And you work in the Vatican."

"Hence the eating them if they hurt him thing."  Raphael patted the dog, who gave him a sniff, before settling onto his bed, deciding to take a nap.

"How many death threats is Pius getting?"  Gabriel asked concerned.  Over the centuries, they had seen the good, the bad, and the ugly sit in St. Peter's Chair. Pius XVII was a breath of fresh air, these past years.

"He added recycling and environmental concerns to the corporal works of mercy, and had a prayer service with a former gay priest."

"I adore him so much."  Uriel grinned, clapping his hands. "He's annoying the overzealous conservatives that make us Angels work harder."

"Wait, you were demoted."  Harold spoke without thinking, half listening to their conversation.  

It was fascinating, hearing all the inside talk, yet having no clue what half of it meant.  He was browsing through websites, trying to get a grasp on the situation.  Harold wasn't raised religious, let alone Catholic.  He knew of the birth and death of Christ.  Read about St. Michael, his imagery is all over medieval art.  Had some knowledge of the Catholic Church, mainly there was a Vatican and a Pope, and the Swiss Guards wore bright uniforms.   But sitting in a room filled with the 'famed' Four Archangels had him desperate for more information.

And so much of it was contradictory.

Harold pointed at the screen, looking over at Ben.  "According to this Uriel isn't an Archangel."

Gabriel moaned. "Don't get him started."

"Damn it." Raphael rolled his eyes.

Michael sighed, pinching his nose.  

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Like it was my fault, a group of humans got overzealous in their reverence.  The Church decided that it was too 'cult' like, and demoted me.  Like they could, hello I'm an Archangel, I got the job before God came up with this crazy idea of humans."

"Some Bishops in the Catholic Church a few centuries back, decided a few things." Michael placed a calming hand on his brother's shoulder.  "As much as man is made in His image, they still do not understand the workings of God."

"And mankind is flawed."  Raphael added.  "And since the Church is run by mankind, which makes it just as fallible."

"Hence we get the Borgias."  Gabriel shrugged.  "Or the US Catholic Bishops."  Michael just gave him a look.  "What? It's true."

"Do not get Pius started!"  Raphael shook his head, cursing low in Italian, making Harold's eyebrow raise in question. "He is the reason I took this job."

"How do you get the job?"  Harold asked, and then looked at all of them.  "John Reese was a real person, I think I understand, that he allowed you in?"

"We don't possess someone." Gabriel's tone dropped slightly, not towards Harold but he instantly knew this was a touchy subject.  "The low life demons do that.  We ask the human's permission, it's usually in a time of death or crisis.  The soul goes home, and we take over the body."

"We do not take over anyone who has a family, or someone who is in a coma."  Uriel added, with a sigh.  "It's why we have a tendency to keep the one we like."

"And all of you, these men were ready to die?"  He asked concerned.

Gabriel stood and started pacing slightly.  "Nick."  He waved his hand towards himself.  "Came from a large Catholic family, was the youngest boy in a sea of girls.  To get away from the family he became a CSI in Las Vegas.  On a case he was taken, placed in a plexiglas coffin and buried alive.  He fought.  He prayed. He called out to me.  I had been his patron saint, since he was confirmed. I knew they weren't going to make it, they were so damn close, but his body was shutting down from the ant bites, air was getting thinner.  I offered him a chance to let go."

Harold swallowed, heart aching for the poor man.

"I opened my eyes to see his co-workers, pulling back the dirt.  He wasn't the only one I saved that night.  It would've destroyed all of them, if he had 'died'. I stayed as a CSI for a few more years, and then moved on."   He gave Harold a smile.  "Do not mourn Nick, he's in good hands.  As a cop, he had Michael's extra blessing."

Harold looked over at Reese.  "All soldiers and cops, have my protection, even if they don't ask for it."

"Ernesto knew Pius was going to be different.  He sensed it, what made him a damn good Inspector General."  Raphael smiled softly, as if remembering an old friend. "Two days after the white smoke was seen, he discovered the cancer he had fought as a young man, returned. They gave him six months.  He went to Pius, asked for prayers not for himself, but for a good replacement.  I answered him.  I gave him the strength, and then when the time came, he went home.  I wasn't surprised to see the previous Pope waiting for him.  The doctors declared it a Miracle, Pius stared at me, and then softly said 'his prayers were answered'.  And that is why I protect this man."

Harold startled when he felt John wipe a tear from his cheek.  He looked up to see so much love and devotion, staring back at him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ben.

"I found mine wandering the desert, don't ask."  He gave him a sloppy grin.  "We talked for hours, and at the end he was tired, so I carried on for him."

"Well that was anti-climactic."  Harold stared at the redhead.

"Not all of us have the dramatic stories."  Uriel leaned over and patted him on the knee.  "Now that the emotional conversations are over, what have you been doing these past years Michael?"

John glanced down at Harold, a smirk on his face.  "The same thing I always do…help people."

The three siblings narrowed their eyes at him.  Raphael pointed at him. "You disappeared that isn't like you."

"I had my reasons."

"And I found you on a roof, with a missile coming straight at you."  Gabriel added to the conversation.

"The situation is taken care of."

"We're going to get nothing are we?" Uriel crossed his hands over his chest.

Michael smiled at them. "I have one confessor and you three aren't Him."

Continued

***

Gabriel: 

Raphael:

Uriel:

[essaywritingservicecheap1-blog]

Comparing Early Settlement Patterns

Early Spanish, french, & side of meat permanent settlements tried to transplant European forms into the new creation environment, in the effort to sort out the new world environment look like the hoar one.\n\nSpanish Settlements: Following capital of Ohio voyages to the West Indies, Spanish establish sugar plantations; when Natives died they imported African slave labor refashion the population of the Caribbean; in Mexico they apply native population to exploit the gold; when this population died, the Spanish turned to ranching and farming. The equity of the Indies (1573) where the royal ordinances dictated that settlements should be like a Spanish village, a grid of streets nigh a central plaza of approximately 5 1/2 soil, with a church at one closing curtain and the organization/military construct at the other. Houses were joined in concert with common walls a ache the plaza. beyond houses were common pastures, woodlots, and private holdings appoint to each fami ly based on their military rank: 106 acres for common people, 2200 for officers; nobility tear nap higher. Settlers received weewee for irrigation in proportion to their acreage (which was in proportion to rank). There were provide on common acequia madre and you were allowed to yield them to your fields which was strictly correct (2-4 hours flow). [Interestingly, Native Americans could also irrigat to lift corn, beans, and squash and Spanish followed and interconnected Native American networks into their own.] Traditions of government regulating land and water use were brought from Spain. Irrigation needs unploughed Spanish settlements clustered; Spanish towns such as Santa Fe were well established long before Quebec or Jamestown.\n \nFrench Settlements: hoped to find gold down St. Lawrence river and along the Great Lakes, tho developed fishing and skin trading posts instead, trading with the Micmacs. By 1663 there were approximately 2500 French in Canada, mostly in Queb ec, Trois-Rivieres, and Montreal. French...