#Gabriel’s escape isn’t terribly encouraging

[runnerfivestillalive]

This is from the book, while Crowley is trying to talk Aziraphale into helping him stop armageddon, and does his drunken ramble about eternity. Apparently God enjoys The Sound of Music.

“You’ll enjoy it. You really will. You won’t have a choice.”

I feel like this line gets overlooked a lot. It’s an important line, for sheer horror potential.

Whatever the control mechanism is, clearly it isn’t running on every angel at all times, because if that was the case, a rebellion never would have happened. Aziraphale wouldn’t have six thousand years of doubts piling up to critical capacity. Gabriel wouldn’t have been able to escape.

But it’s also clearly very easily turned on, since they both accept that it would be used for something as petty as enjoying a movie. This lack of will can be rolled over angels at any time, for any reason.

Aziraphale clearly has some dread of this. *Crowley* knows it, and used it to convince Aziraphale to help him stop armageddon. But Aziraphale is very good at letting one part of his brain know something while another part of his brain denies it, so it’s not clear how much *Aziraphale* knows he dreads it, even as that dread shapes his character.

He’s never really broken free of Heaven. Even when he was being called a traitor, he wasn’t fallen, and so he was expecting to be called home eventually. And he’d be happy, of course. He won’t have a choice.

Aziraphale’s been trying to walk away from Heaven for at least six thousand years. He walked away from guard duty. He gave away his sword. He lied straight to God’s face about it. He lied to the archangels, and then straight up told Crowley he was ready to go to Hell. Several millennia of trouble-making and demon-fraternizing later, he stood in the middle of Heaven, declared he wasn’t going to fight in any war, then escaped via the demonic act of human possession. He is ready to GO.

And still his wings are snowy white. He’s just as angelic as when he first worried the pretty starmaker might get in trouble, and tried to protect him with a warning.

But he can’t escape. Heaven isn’t letting anyone else go. And he knows what his future holds. Eventually, no matter how many times they put it off, eventually he will be called back to Heaven.

And so, what promises can he make Crowley?

To stay with him always? Of course not. To love him? Can he even promise to love him? No. He’ll eventually be dragged back to Heaven, and he’ll be happy to go, and he won’t even miss him. *He won’t have a choice.*

And perhaps that’s the problem. He loves Crowley too much to make promises he can’t keep.

[eyesupmarksman]

Aziraphale/Crowley - Like Real People Do

Maybe, somewhere in Heaven, there exist two separate lists. That’s what Aziraphale likes to imagine. Two lists, both very aptly named; Things That Angels Do Not Need To Do, and Things That Angels Should Definitely Not Do.

Or, Aziraphale Wakes Up Having A Crisis About Sleeping With Crowley

[Gif Not Mine] Originally posted on my AO3

Maybe, somewhere in Heaven, there exist two separate lists. That’s what Aziraphale likes to imagine. Two lists, both very aptly named; Things That Angels Do Not Need To Do, and Things That Angels Should Definitely Not Do.

For example, angels don’t have to eat. Or drink. Or sleep. In his time on Earth, he’s watched Father’s pets seem bound to do these sorts of things. If they didn’t eat enough, they would grow thin and frail. Then they would die. If they don’t drink enough, they wither. And die. He hasn’t encountered a death by the lack of sleep, but he’s sure that it must follow the same path as the others.

A design flaw if ever he saw one.

And, although Aziraphale doesn’t need food or drink or sleep to continue living, it’s something he does partake in. Assimilating into human life he once told Gabriel during one of his routine check-ups. If I am to remain on Earth, shouldn’t I behave just like they do? To blend in?

He eats in nice restaurants and drinks nice water and wine. Every so often, he’ll sleep in nice beds.

As for Things That Angels Should Definitely Not Do, well, he can imagine a great deal of things.

One in particular sticks out in his mind.

No romantic or sexual liaisons with a demon.

So that’s why Aziraphale, the morning after the Almost-Apocalypse and his first romp with Crowley, he finds himself wide awake, staring up at the ceiling, wondering why someone from either of their departments hasn’t burst through the door to smite them both.

His fiddles with the fabric of the bedsheets. He did something that he Should Not Have Done. And, if he was going to be completely honest with himself – because angels should Always do that – he liked it.

No shred of remorse floats around inside of his body. He should know; he spent the entire night looking for it.

As for his bedmate, Aziraphale is pretty sure that demons don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep either. But Crowley is peacefully snoozing beside him; one arm pillowed under his head, while the other is lightly slung over the angel’s waist. He is, for lack of a better term, sprawled across his own bed. You can stay at my place, if you like. The words still drift around in the angel’s head. Warmth floods over him.

Aziraphale wonders vaguely if Crowley’s kind has a list like the angels must have. But he can only imagine that having a romantic or sexual liaison with an angel couldn’t be seen as an entirely bad thing. That kind of temptation would be gladly celebrated. That’s how upstairs loses many of its fledgelings.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” a voice mumbles.

Aziraphale lets his head roll to one side. Crowley stares back at the angel with serpent eyes. It’s like sleep has never touched him at all. There’s no trace of it either in his face or eyes.

The angel quirks his lip. “Yes, well. I apologise for that.” He says, glancing down to his hands clasped over his chest. Their clothes are in different regions of the room. His own suit jacket, shirt, and trousers are somewhat-neatly laid over the back of a nearby chair. Crowley’s jacket and pants are strung near the door. His shirt is still hanging on to the edge of the bed, escaping being kicked off at some point during the night.

One of Aziraphale’s hands is snatched by his bedmate. Their fingers curl and coil together. “Something’s churning around in there,” Crowley mumbles, shuffling over slightly towards the angel’s side. “Not something entirely pleasant either. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Something happens. Aziraphale’s heart – or where a human would have a heart, anyway – seemingly swells. Warmth floods through his bones and veins.

“It’s nothing,” Aziraphale tries to wave off, turning on to his side to face Crowley directly. “I’m sorry to have woken you up.”

The demon’s lip lifts into a ghost of a smile. “You’ll tell me eventually,” he declares, tugging Aziraphale’s hand, and arm, closer towards him. Aziraphale’s body is helpless but to follow. As soon as the angel’s bared chest touches that of his bedmate, Crowley looses a terrible but disarming smirk. “Not now, maybe, but later. I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

Aziraphale blinks as a chaste kiss is pressed to his temple. “Are you alright, angel?”

A hum is what Crowley gets as a reply. “Yes, I’m wonderful.”

“Glad to hear it.”

A quiet moment passes between them. Aziraphale takes it as a moment to mould his body to Crowley’s, lying against the demon’s side. Crowley plays with Aziraphale’s fingers on one side, while his other hand goes to the angel’s back. Long fingers trace along the knobs of Aziraphale’s spine. It’s all so...calm. Even though he faces the other side of the room now, where a blank grey wall is all that he can look at, he wants to glance over his shoulder towards the window. He wants to check; how could both of their departments just leave them be? Surely they’re devising something. They’ve lain together for Heave—

“And there you go again.”

Aziraphale peers up. He’s greeted by a lopsided grin and glinting eyes. Crowley brings one hand up to card his fingers through the angel’s curls. “Where did you go, just then? What’s so important to think about that you don’t stay here with me?”

“You know me,” Aziraphale tries to smile. Whether or not it will stick to his face, he’s not sure. “A worrywart through and through.”

Crowley cocks his head. “Which begs the question; what has you so worried?”

At that, something tries to lodge itself within the angel’s throat. A lump, choking off and drowning words that tries to float to the surface.

Crowley lifts his chin. “You don’t regret it, do you?” His voice is different. Not laced with the usual assurance it usually has. Something all too akin to doubt is starting to bubble up.

Aziraphale reaches out, cupping the demon’s cheek. His thumb runs along Crowley’s cheekbone. “No, no! I very much enjoyed it!” he rushes out. “I just...I’m fearful as to...What will happen,  after.”

Crowley cocks his head. “After? What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a choked-out sort of noise in the place of words. He isn’t like his siblings. Swords and other weapons haven’t really been his thing. Ever since giving away that flaming sword, Aziraphale has relied on his words. He’ll always have words, at the end of the day.

But right now, none are coming to him.

“They made it pretty clear, angel,” Crowley suddenly mumbles. His long fingers are still in the angel’s hair, combing it through and occasionally twirling around curls. “No one from up or downstairs will be bothering us any time soon.”

Crowley is warm. There’s a certain type of heat radiating off of his skin as Aziraphale lies against him. Even with only a light silk sheet slung low over their hips, the bed feels just a tad too warm. But, as Aziraphale considers it, it’s not that unpleasant.

Trailing his fingers down the demon’s chest, Aziraphale thinks. “When you said, at the park, that neither of us has a side anymore...”

Crowley hums. A gentle encouragement to continue on with whatever trail of thought the angel is heading down.

Aziraphale chews his lip. “Well, what did you mean by that, exactly?”

“That you and I are evermore Earth-bound, I imagine. Not in a felled way, but that Gabriel and Beelzebub won’t be bothering us any time soon.”

The angel lifts his head from the demon’s chest. “Yes, but...we are still what we are, aren’t we?” Crowley blinks. “You are still a demon, and I an angel. We just...don't have anyone to report back to anymore.”

Fingers trail lightly up and down Aziraphale’s back. That would be the essence of it, yeah,” Crowley hums. He reaches out and catches the angel’s chin between his fingers. “Tell me, angel; what has brought all of this on? Did us finally falling into the same bed together give you a crisis?”

A blush starts along the angel’s cheeks.

Crowley tilts his head. His eyes narrow slightly. “If you’re worried about Gabriel, or Michael, or whoever else bursting through that window and smiting you for lying with me, know that I wouldn’t let any of those feathered bastards lay a hand on you.”

The angel blinks. “And I would do the same for you, if any of your lot rose up through the floorboards.”

The city outside awakens. Almost all at once, chatter from people moving about outside floats up through the window. Cars and buses zoom past, occasionally honking at each other. There’s a certain type of relief that suddenly floods over Aziraphale. The world was meant to end yesterday; and nothing happened. Time still ticked by and life continued. Aziraphale’s ears twitch at the noise floating up from those below. A reminder that the world is still there.

“It’s...peculiar, isn’t it?” Aziraphale says, laying his head back down. He fits his head just beneath Crowley’s chin. Every breath that the demon takes puffs across the top of Aziraphale’s head. Crowley hums. Another prompt for the angel to keep talking. Looking to some other part of Crowley’s room, one of the other undecorated grey – almost chrome – walls, Aziraphale continues. “If one were to think about it, is there anything such as good or bad?”

Crowley turns his head just enough for his lips to brush along the angel’s cheek. He breathes a gentle sigh. “Are you always this philosophical with your pillow talk?”

The angel presses on. “I mean, what is good and what is bad? I know that your lot are inherently ad. They do bad things. I don’t know if I can say the same about Gabriel and our siblings.” The angel peers up at the other. “I know that we’re known to be good, but for someone like Gabriel to actively want a war? I don’t know if that’s good at all.”

“And then there’s us,” he continues. Crowley tilts his head back. His eyelids have already fluttered shut. At some point, he wonders, Aziraphale will just fall back asleep. Or Crowley will, and he won’t have to listen to these ramblings anymore. “You may be the nicest demon that I know-”

“-What did I say about calling me nice?-”

“You are,” the angel prods, tightening his hold on his partner. “You are nice, and good, beneath all of that bad.” Even with Crowley’s eyes shut, he can practically hear the angel smiling. It’s infuriating.

He huffs. “And you, angel?” he opens one eyelid, peering down at his partner. “Is there any bad in you?”

The angel almost seems to balk at the idea.

“There is,” Crowley hums, closing his eyes again, and lying further back against the mound of pillows pushed up to the headboard of the bed. “You do things that you don’t need to do. You eat because you enjoy it. You drink because that’s fun too. Angels are a stuffy sort; not having an ounce of fun or enjoyment in the millennia that they’re alive. And then there’s you,” Crowley chuckles, “doing things just for the sake of it. One could see that as being bad.”

Aziraphale doesn’t say anything else. If anything, Crowley has to open his eyes again to check that the angel hasn’t fallen back asleep because of how long the silence stretches on for.

“Is that what you’re thinking about, hmm?” he says, shuffling slightly to draw the angel even closer to him. If they were any closer, they would be sharing the one body. “Not being as good as you once thought?”

Something that vaguely resembles a frown creases Aziraphale’s brow. Or, as much as a frown as he is able to manage. “Yes, I rather think you’re right.”

Crowley turns his head just enough to press a light kiss on Aziraphale’s nose. “Here’s my question to you, angel: is being purely good a good thing? Or being purely bad a bad thing? You said it yourself, when we were with Adam. Maybe being human – a mixture of good and bad – is exactly what we need to be.”

At the mention of the boy’s name, Aziraphale vaguely wonders how he’s feeling today. He didn’t know exactly what to make of the Antichrist; but was pleasantly surprised to find out that he’s just an ordinary child, who is probably under a firm grounding by his father.

His thoughts are interrupted by a deep and long sigh. Crowley’s fingers continue to trail lightly up and down the angel’s spine. “We’re not doing anything today,” he decides firmly, tightening his hold on his partner.

Aziraphale’s arm coils over Crowley’s waist. Holding himself firmly against the demon’s side, he buries his face into Crowley’s neck. The demon carries a scent; nothing like any of the other demons that stench of pure sulphur. But this is of warmth, like a burning hearth, mixed with spices. It’s a scent he’s carried for years; something that he left behind during all of their previous meetings through history. Aziraphale breathes in a lungful of it. Warmth washes over him, loosing muscles and making his body practically melt into the mattress.

“Go back to sleep, angel,” Crowley hums. He sounds just on the cusp of sleep himself, teetering over the edge and about to tumble over. “We can discuss all of this later on.”

[destinyimage]

4 Types of Angels & Practical Tips for Angelic Activation

I find it appalling that the modern-day church doesn’t discuss angels more often.

The Bible gives us a record of encounters when angels showed up before Jesus’ birth, during His years on this earth, and after His ascension. If the Bible is the holy written Word of God and if angels are in it, then they must be a point of interest God wants us to study. Of course, the study of angels should never precede our study of Jesus. Just as there are recoded in the Bible an archangel and a messenger angel, I believe angels hold different jobs and offices. Here are some of the different types of angels I have encountered.

Warning Angels

Warning angels are simply that! They are angels sent by God to warn His people. In Genesis 19, two angels show up to warn Lot of the terrible destruction that is about to fall on Sodom and Gomorrah. “Get them out of here, because we are going to destroy this place. The outcry to the Lord against its people is so great that he has sent us to destroy it” (Gen. 19:12-13 NIV).

Now, why would the Lord care to warn Lot? If He was planning on wiping out an entire city anyway, why would He send angels to warn a specific family to leave before the devastation hit? In His mercy, because of His relationship with Abraham (Lot’s nephew), he saved Lot and his family (see Gen. 19:29).

Another well-known angel that comes with warning is Joseph’s angel. The King Herod had been on a rampage to find and destroy Jesus, the child who was prophesied about who would rule the people of Israel. An angel comes to Joseph in a dream. “‘Get up,’ he said, ‘take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him’” (Matt. 2:13 NIV). So once again we see God intercepting and sending a warning angel to change the course of history.

I myself have never encountered a warning angel. I like to think, though, that the first angel I saw in Brazil protected me and kept me from danger. I talk about this story in my book, The Seer’s Path.

Messenger Angels

God also sent angels that carried a message in the Bible. Gabriel the archangel comes to Mary at a pivotal time in her life.

Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end (Luke 1:30-33 NIV).

Wasn’t that wonderful of God to send an angel to Mary at what could have been the scariest time in her whole life! Gabriel came and delivered a message of hope and encouragement to Mary. The Lord so lovingly knew she would need hope and encouragement to face carrying the Son of God in her womb, not to mention having to go back and explain her pregnancy to her family and Joseph.

Warring Angels

The Bible also describes angels that fight or war on our behalf. In a despairing time and at the end of a twenty-one day fast, Daniel has a crazy vision and encounters a brilliant angel. In Daniel 10, the angel tells him:

Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. Then Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, because I was detained there with the king of Persia (Daniel 10:12-13 NIV).

This scripture brings so much comfort. Its contents show us that God hears our prayers even if we can’t see His answer to them yet. God hears our prayers! Isn’t that awesome?

Michael is described as an angel that came and helped Daniel’s angels fight off a demonic power. This was no little demon either! It was so strong that it kept Daniel’s angel detained for a twenty-one day battle. The archangel Michael must have been one giant angel! Thankfully, the Lord sends us angels to battle for us when we are weak!

Explanation Angels

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Then there are those angels that show up in the Bible just to give revelation to people. You can imagine the disciples of Christ scratching their heads, thinking, “Huh? What just happened?” as Jesus leaves in a cloud up to heaven. Jesus ascends and the disciples are standing there “looking intently up into the sky as he was going” (Acts 1:10 NIV). They are still staring up into the sky when two angels show up behind them to explain it all. Isn’t it refreshing that even the disciples, who spent all their time with Jesus, often just didn’t get it! It brings us hope as we sometimes miss all that God has for us in the Scriptures.

“Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11 NIV).

“Ahhh!” they responded. (No, I just added that in.) It’s like revelation sunk in! The Lord was so gracious to send them angels to explain everything. I wonder if He was sitting in heaven watching them staring at the clouds, and He looked at His angels and said, “Geez! Would you guys go down there and explain it to them?”

I Want to See Angels Too!

Often my friends ask me, “How do I see angels? I want to see angels too, but I’m not a seer!” First Corinthians 14:1 says, “Follow the way of love and eagerly desire gifts of the Spirit, especially prophecy” (NIV). It says that we are to desire the gifts—plural. This means that all the gifts of the Holy Spirit are available to us and we are supposed to eagerly go after them! Although it’s encouraging to hear stories and testimonies of God doing amazing signs and wonders through others’ lives, unless it provokes us to desire to see the same gifts, signs, and wonders manifesting in our lives it’s just an inspirational story without carrying any impartation.

So I always encourage people to go after seeing angels! Sometimes angels don’t just show up like, “Boom! Here I am!” There have been times when I’ve just seen glimpses of angels dancing or moving through the room during a church service or during worship. I may just see flashes of light moving about the room. Other times, I’ve seen glimpses of their wing tips fluttering, and then it’s gone. Also, sometimes I have seen an appearance of a glowing shadow behind speakers, and I know that is an angelic presence.

Angelic encounters can also be in closed visions and dreams. Many times, with my eyes shut during worship I’ll see an image of an angel moving toward me or planted somewhere in the room on guard. Or, with my eyes closed, I’ll have a vision of an angelic presence walking by me or coming up behind me.

Activation

There are certain steps to having an angelic encounter that I recommend.

Try personalizing and praying the following activation prayer daily, and also ask a mentor to be praying for you to have angelic encounters.

If you can find someone who has been known to see angels, ask them to pray over you and impart to you this gift. It says in the Bible to go after the gifts, right? Well then, get courageous and boldly go and ask that person to pray for you. (I recommend this for desiring any of the different gifts.)

Angelic activity is often present during powerful worship. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen angels dancing around when worship is present! Worship ushers us into the presence of the King, so either start worshiping and praising or play some strong worship music.

Begin to get curious! Close your eyes. Once you’ve been able to get into a meditative state, ask the Lord to show you a vision of an angel. If you have a hard time getting away from your own thoughts and are feeling distracted, turn off the lights in the room. Note down if you sense any presence. Often people have shared with me that they could sense angelic presence before they could see it. This might be your starting point also. Now, try opening your eyes, wherever you are, and see if you can see or sense anything in the room. Even if it’s a small start, note it down. Great things come from small beginnings! Next time you try to encounter an angel, see if you can see the same thing and ask the Lord to reveal to you a little more. Note down anything you sense or encounter, including visions or dreams you may have. Ask God also for angelic encounters in your dreams too!

If you have an angelic encounter, ask the angel his/her name. Often the names have meaning and might give insight. My angel that was with my husband and me during our dating relationship was named Timothy, which meant honoring God.

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[sage-nebula]

Lubeshipping for the meme? :D

Who made the first move

Canonically, Sycamore! XY068 shows this well enough. He just could not handle the thirst that the sweet fragrance of oil inspired in him~

Discussing it more seriously, while that was indeed Sycamore making the first move (in the most suggestive way possible, honestly, Sycamore), I like to think that he and Meyer were friends for years prior to that point—at least ten, maybe more. They were friends back when Meyer was still married to Teresa, and before Bonnie was even born, and truth be told Sycamore thought he was damn attractive even back then—but Meyer was married, and Sycamore respected that. He’s not a homewrecker, and it isn’t as if he would want Meyer to be unhappy (and a divorce, no matter the reason, is bound to lead to unhappiness). When Meyer and Teresa did divorce (amicably), Sycamore still kept his distance for a while, because it’s in bad taste to make a move on someone right after they’ve gotten divorced. Even though the split was amicable, there was still a note of rawness to it, and it was something that Clemont and Bonnie had to adjust to, besides. (And while Bonnie bounced into the new routine fairly easily, Clemont took more time to adjust.) Sycamore respected that, too.

But eventually, enough time passed so that Sycamore could see that the four of them had grown accustomed to the new situation—that Meyer himself had bounced back and healed enough for it. And with that considered, once Sycamore saw an opening, well … he took it. ;D

Who said ‘I love you’ first

While Sycamore made the first move, I imagine that Meyer was the first one to say that he loved Sycamore. It was awkward, hesitant; it was in a comfortable enough setting, with the two of them on Sycamore’s couch watching a movie, and truth be told the topic of conversation wasn’t even their feelings for each other, but rather something else entirely (though it was related, really—the topic was their family). But it was still relevant, so Meyer said it—said how he felt, and that he felt like things were progressing pretty seriously between them. Fortunately, Sycamore felt the exact same way, and so Meyer knew right then and there that his feelings were reciprocated. :)

How often they fight

Not too often! I imagine that there is a bit of a bumpy rough patch after things become more serious between them, only because they’ve been so used to living separate lives for so long that bringing that together might be a bit difficult at first. Sycamore, for instance, has his work entwined steadfastly with his life, and has since his early twenties (perhaps even earlier if you count his university years). Separating those two things isn’t something he’s ever really thought about, or ever really wanted to think about, but balancing his current schedule with maintaining a romantic relationship and a family can be difficult, which could lead to Meyer feeling a bit neglected or frustrated at times, even if that’s not Sycamore’s intention at all. (And note, too, that this was never a problem with Alan post-adoption, because Alan was always Sycamore’s assistant, wasn’t he? So he was always right there while Sycamore was working. It’s not quite the same thing when you have a boyfriend/fiancé who doesn’t work at the lab, and two new stepkids who don’t work at the lab, either.) Meyer, meanwhile, has his own career as an electrician around Lumiose City, as well as his “side job” as Blaziken Mask, which can lead to some late hours at night, as well as him risking his life being a costumed vigilante when Lumiose has a perfectly capable police force to handle it. Both of these things combined could lead to arguments, because while Meyer might be frustrated at how much time Sycamore devotes to his work, Sycamore could argue in return that they’d have more time to spend together at night if Meyer wasn’t risking his life and safety by being Blaziken Mask. Meyer might also point out that Sycamore’s work schedule by saying that being a workaholic isn’t a good thing, and all that’s going to do is encourage Clemont’s own workaholic tendencies, to which Sycamore would fire back that he’s trying to get Alan to stop being so alarmingly reckless with his own life, and that Meyer’s vigilante antics aren’t exactly the best example to be setting, either (because even if Alan isn’t about to wear a costume any time soon, it’s not as if he hasn’t risked his own life without thought in the name of doing what’s right time, and time, and time again). As you could guess, neither one of them would have easy comebacks to these (admittedly true, in the “he has a point” kind of way) remarks.

So I think that there might be some fighting there, concentrated in a little pocket as they learn to sort and work through these issues, but I also believe that they would be able to sort and work through it and come to some compromises, and after that sailing would be a lot smoother. (And thus they would fight a lot less. It’s just that initial adjustment period that might spark some conflict.)

Who’s big spoon/little spoon

Meyer is the big spoon for sure. Not that Sycamore dislikes cuddles—the opposite, really!—but I think he’s probably less likely to initiate on the regular, and anyway, he loves the feeling of being hugged, so. Meyer is the big spoon more often than not.

What their nicknames are for each other

Meyer calls Sycamore “Gus” 99% of the time. It’s rare that he calls him “Augustine,” and typically only does if he’s upset. (That said, before they make their relationship known to the kids, he calls him “Professor Sycamore” to the children. He even does for a time after, but once their relationship is serious enough he drops that.) Sycamore sometimes shortens Meyer’s name to simply “Mey,” and when he did this the first time and Meyer pointed it out, he said, “Well, it works, doesn’t it? Since you’re mine …”

“Oh my god,” Meyer said, but he was laughing, and Sycamore, too, was grinning at his own cheesy silliness.

Aside from that, Meyer might sometimes call Sycamore “hon” or “babe,” just as a casual thing. Sycamore isn’t much one to use pet names himself, though, so he doesn’t really return the favor there.

Who’s the better cook

Meyer, definitely. He’s actually a really good cook! He likes to experiment in the kitchen, but his experiments usually turn out for the better because he’s well into the habit of tasting what he’s making along the way (and he has a good intuition for what spices and herbs will mix well together—that sort of thing). Sycamore’s not terrible, but he also hasn’t spent too much time learning different things. Even after he started putting more effort in after (unofficially) adopting Alan, he mostly concentrated on simple things, particularly since his work meant that he didn’t often have time for long and involved meals. So Sycamore can make some things (basic things, mostly), but Meyer is definitely the more accomplished chef. His food is really very good.

Their song

I don’t have one for them, actually! Except—well, this is a bit of a silly one, but I imagined that, leading up to the Alolan “research trip” (read: vacation) in To Devour the Sun, Sycamore started singing “Kokomo” by the Beach Boys (if, you know, that song existed in the Pokéverse), and Meyer joined in, and they were having a great time and Bonnie and Manon both loved how catchy the chorus was, but Alan just kind of leaned his head against the window of the airplane, like, “why must you do this to me” because he knew, from the second the first lyrics were out of Sycamore’s mouth, that it was going to be stuck in his head for days with no hope of escape.

And he was right. It was stuck in his head for days. He’d just start humming it while doing something completely unrelated, catch himself, and then sigh. It’s just one of those infectiously catchy songs, it doesn’t go away. Nonetheless, Sycamore and Meyer had a great time singing it, so perhaps that can count. :)

Who remembers their anniversaries

Both, honestly! Although Sycamore can get very caught up in his work, he always makes sure to mark special days on his calendar, to make sure he doesn’t forget. (And in case that fails, he tells Gabrielle, and she makes sure he remembers. ;) ) Meyer is also the sentimental sort, so he’s really good about remembering that sort of thing, too.

Their favorite thing to do together

Honestly, just relaxing on the couch after a long day of work is very nice, but aside from that they also like going for rides on Meyer’s motorcycle. ;) In particular, the routes around Lumiose tend to be pretty empty at night (especially since wild pokémon tend to keep to the tall grass/their dens), and as such they can provide some excellent roads for high-speed night riding. Helmets are worn at all times, of course, but regardless, flying down the routes on Meyer’s motorcycle is a blast. They love it.

How they would get engaged

The funny thing about this is that they both have the idea to propose to each other. They don’t discuss it; Sycamore just assumes that he’ll probably need to be the one to propose since he was the one to make the first move, and Meyer thinks that he wants to propose (and will probably need to given that it took Sycamore 10+ years and prompting just to officially adopt Alan, ffs). True, there is a bit of nervousness there given that his first marriage did end in divorce—but that doesn’t mean that his second one will, and in his heart Meyer has always been an optimist. He believes in the best in life, so he’s willing to give it another go.

So what ends up happening is that they both buy rings, and Sycamore is actually the one to propose first. He has this speech planned, about opportunities and experiences and everything, and he pulls out the ring as he’s talking—and Meyer just starts laughing. And Sycamore is bewildered (and maybe a little hurt), because what about this is so funny? But then Meyer pulls out his own ring, which he had been saving for the right moment … and Sycamore laughs, too.

“I guess that answers that question, huh?” Meyer asks.

Sycamore grins. “I would say it does.”

What their wedding would be like

It’s not a huge affair, and I would say that probably there are more pokémon in attendance than people. They definitely get married somewhere out in nature—perhaps a beach wedding?—because I think they both find the most happiness when they’re outdoors (and, as a bonus, outdoor weddings invite wild pokémon to come crash it, which would delight Sycamore). If the best man tradition exists for Kalosian weddings, then I think it goes without saying that Alan would definitely be Sycamore’s. Meyer would probably ask Clemont if he’d be comfortable, but before Clemont would even have a chance to answer Bonnie would express that she is Offended™ that she isn’t being asked, why can’t she be the best man, it doesn’t matter that she’s not a boy, she should still get to do it, especially if Clemont can, because everyone knows he’s more hopeless than she is when it comes to wedding stuff anyway (“Hey,” Clemont says, now mildly offended himself).

Needless to say, Bonnie ends up being Meyer’s best girl. :)

Gabrielle is the ring bearer, and she does an excellent job. Toast (full name: Toast E. Marshmallow, a.k.a. Meyer’s blaziken) makes sure that the wild pokémon who wedding crash don’t actually interrupt the ceremony. Diantha officiates because she has been certified to do just that. (She’s a woman of many talents.)

A wild swablu ends up landing on Sycamore’s head in the middle of the ceremony anyway, despite Toast’s best efforts. Sycamore is thrilled.

How many kids they’ll have

Hah, this isn’t even a question that needs to be asked, is it? They already have three! Alan was Sycamore’s kid prior to the marriage, and Meyer of course has Clemont and Bonnie. Particularly once Sycamore (with Meyer’s prodding, thank you Meyer) officially adopts Alan, once Sycamore and Meyer are married all three kids have two wonderful dads. (Well, technically Sycamore is Bonnie and Clemont’s stepdad, and ditto for Meyer being Alan’s stepdad, but whatever, it counts.) They’re a very happy family, even if Meyer and Clemont have yet to hug any dragons like the other three. (Come on, guys, this is a dragon hugging family—get on it! :P)

Also, while she has her mom and her aunt and is thus never really adopted as one of the kids, Manon drops in and is around often enough that she’s usually included on any family vacations anyway, is always welcome at dinner, et cetera. It’s like—you know how Delia is with Ash’s friends? How she never questions it when they come by, how Brock literally stayed with her for the majority of the time that Ash was traveling in the Orange Islands (with Misty and Tracey), and Delia not only let him stay, but didn’t even question why he needed to stay, was just okay with it because he’s Ash’s friend and thus it’s fine even if he’s not her kid? That’s kind of how it is. Manon is basically like a very, very close family friend who is pretty much accepted as family, even if these dads are technically not her dads. Particularly since Alan is pretty much her big brother in pretty much everything but name and blood, it’s just assumed that she is 100% always welcome whenever. So technically, Sycamore and Meyer have three kids, but Manon is always welcome to come along for the ride, too. :)

[writingcommons-blog1]

“Trial and Error” by Daniella A.

I put the car in gear and felt it rumble to a halt. The car in itself isn’t old, but the way it drives is almost prehistoric. When the time came for me to learn how to drive, I chose to do so the old fashion way. I decided to learn manual transmission. I was 15 as I sat in the car with my dad and experienced the car stall every time I tried to go from neutral to first gear. The car would grumble, and then the noise would cease as the car switched off. I looked around the deserted industrial park in defeat. I had all this space to drive if I could only move the car. 

“It’s okay, try again.” My dad kept saying. “Don’t be afraid of the gas, apply more, and the car will go.” Profanities would escape my lips every time the car would stall. What was I doing wrong? Why was this so hard? I thought back to my friends who simply had to rest their foot on the gas to get the car to move, while I had to, simultaneously, feather the clutch and apply the gas to make the car go. With every failure, my dad sat next to me beaming with pride.

“You can’t be proud of this,” I said. “I’m terrible. The car won’t even move.”

“No, I am so proud of you! This isn’t easy. My dad taught me, and I am so excited to teach you.” I smiled at him, appreciative of what he said. I wanted to know how to drive stick; it was so important to me. My dad and I are so close, and I wanted to share this with him. From the very beginning of my life, my dad and I bonded over cars. When I was a child, I chose to play with toy cars while my sister sat beside me dressing her Barbie dolls. However, I would be lying if I said I wasn't learning to prove something. It is hard always living in the shadow of my sister. She did and experienced everything before me. She always received the initial excitement from my parents while I got the leftovers. My sister didn’t learn to drive stick, and this was my moment to do something original. It was my moment to do something first.

Beads of sweat trickled down my temples as I attempted to move the car on a hill, as the car rolled back my heart raced. What if I can’t make it go forward? What if I hit the car behind me? What if I am never able to do it? These thoughts raced through my mind as I tried, repeatedly, to get the car to move forward rather than backward on the hill. My sister sat in the backseat as she laughed at my struggle.

“This can’t be that hard.” She said. She wouldn’t know, she never tried. She, like all my other friends, received instant gratification when learning to drive. Once they sat in the comfortable leather seats and adjusted the wheel, so it was perfectly positioned in their hands, they instantly felt the exhilarating rush of driving a car. All I felt, for hours, was the car jerk as it came to a halt because I still hadn’t done it right.

“You don’t know how hard it is Gabrielle. You have never done it.” “Still, I don’t think it can be this hard. We haven’t even moved more than a foot.”

I was on my tenth attempt, and all I could smell was smoke radiating from the car. I felt guilty as this was a brand new car. My father custom ordered a Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with manual transmission just for me. He was so excited that I wanted to learn that he made sure I had my very own car to learn on.

“It’s okay. The engine is just tired. You will get it.” My dad kept the reassuring words coming all day, but it didn’t hide the fact that it was hard and I had regrets. I tried again, and this time it went! I felt the car jerk as it fought through the stall and although I should have been elated my perfectionist side wanted it to be smooth. I slowly improved as the day went on. I drove in circles around the industrial park with excitement until I would reach a stop sign. It was so trivial. I never before cared about seeing a stop sign until now. Now, every time I saw it approach, I knew I had to stop the car and start it all over again. Shifting once the car was in motion was a breeze, but going from neutral to first was agonizing. I stalled nearly every time I would try to start after stopping at a stop sign. If it hadn’t been for my dad cheering me on, I would have gotten out of the car and walked home.

“You will be one of the few who knows how to drive a stick, Daniella. Just because America has become lazy doesn’t mean you have to too. And there is nothing more impressive than a girl who can drive a manual.” My father kept repeating this to me when I felt discouraged. My dad had a tough father, and he instilled in him the importance of independence and self-reliance. These lessons impacted all parts of my father’s life, right down to the car he drove.

We are at a crucial point in time. The old generation put in the time to learn. They encouraged mastery, but now we are abandoning it for the new generation of “automatic” and instant gratification. We see it with information, shopping, and driving. But this skill of driving a manual car is one that once learned serves you for a lifetime. I know it will serve me a lifetime considering much of my family lives in Greece.

I want no limitations in life. If I was going to learn how to drive, I was going to learn how to drive all cars. I would love to visit my family without the restriction of needing an automatic car. All over Europe cars with a manual transmission are produced in excess. It is only in America where automatic cars outnumber the manual ones. We have an assumption here in America that everything will go our way. We will travel and only have to speak English; we will travel and only have to drive automatic cars. The world doesn’t revolve around America. Most of the world still drive manual cars to save on the cost of ownership and fuel consumption. Why should I do any differently?

When I was ten years old, I visited Venice with my family. My mother, a former flight attendant, and my father, a travel enthusiast, felt it important, even at a young age, for us to see the world. Upon our arrival, we stopped at an Avis car rental to pick up our car, and when we got there, I saw a woman in a situation I never wanted to be in.

“But I have a confirmation number for an automatic car.” A woman in Venice tried tirelessly to dispute a written confirmation saying she would have an automatic car. No one realizes the hold an automatic car has on you until it's unavailable.

“I’m sorry miss. We don’t have anymore, only manuals.” The Avis employee looked conflicted, he felt for the woman, but there was nothing he could do.  They had so few automatic vehicles, and none were returned that day. The women appeared anxious as she looked down at her four tired kids.

“Please, we already checked out of our hotel. We have nowhere to go.” The man appeared empathetic, but the only thing Avis could do was let them sleep in the waiting area until the next day. As we left in our manual car, my dad vowed he would never let that happen to us. I felt failures with learning, but nothing was more exciting than my triumphs. Everyone would doubt me. When the time came for me to take my road test I announced to my friends that I was going to take it in my manual car. My excitement was met with disapproval. I was called crazy and stupid for wanting to drive the way the majority of the world does.

“Oh my God! You are going to fail!” one of my friends told me. “Why would you do that? Just drive your mom’s car and make it easy.” Said another. That was always the common misconception. Manuals aren’t any harder to drive than automatics. It is only harder to learn how. Sadly, many don’t want to put in that time. If I was going to drive a manual car, I was going to pass my test in a manual car. As everyone passed with ten to 15 points off, I received a perfect score. My “prehistoric” car didn’t fail me like they all had thought it would.  

It saddens me as I see the news boast about the future of self-driving cars. Cars are embedded in America’s history. Learning to drive is one of the most exciting parts of a young person’s life. With each passing birthday, a teenager counts down the days to when they too can get behind the wheel and drive their own car. They count down the days to when they can drive with the windows rolled down, the radio blasting, and their friends laughing in the back seat. We learn a lot about a person and their family by the way they drive. Often the habits of one’s parents become their own. Driving becomes a family history; it becomes a fossil within itself. I drive like my father, aggressive and assertive. My father drives like his father, who drove like his. Although I have never met my great-grandfather, I share driving styles with him. It’s comforting to know that I share something with my ancestors.

I am happy that I learned to drive stick. It will live with me forever. One day cars will no longer grumble, engines will not roar, and people won’t be in the driver’s seat. I shared such an incredible experience with my father when he taught me how to drive stick. We shared values and further built our relationship. We carried on a tradition that I can only hope I will carry on with my kids. Technology is amazing, except there are things I rather evolution leave untouched.

[jenmedsbookreviews]

  Man. Where to even begin this week. Well. I will start by saying my reading achievements were next to none. Not quite none. But near enough. Work has been very demanding, I have been very tired and my heart just was not in it. No reflection on the books, more a reflection on my weary and rapidly ageing bones and brain telling me to take a break. In fact I am writing this post in stages as I know where my head is currently at so it if makes no sense come the end … well nowt new there really but this time there is an excuse at least 🙂

So, anyway. Aside from being generally ancient (turned 42 this past week don’t you know) I was preoccupied with something else. Lordy 42. Do you remember being a kid and thinking that people in their forties were ancient? Well I’ll let you into a secret – when you finally reach your forties you bloody feel it too. Just kidding. Age is just a number. Like my chest, mine is just larger than some, that’s all. But back to my point (wandering mind comes with age too…) I was away from home from Thursday until Sunday this week because I took the plunge, packed my backbone in a small holdall and made my way to Harrogate for the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Festival.

It’s an interesting festival, very different in tone to Crimefest, geared very much to a social atmosphere but encouraging and enticing readers with a healthy and steady supply of books. I say healthy with my tongue in my cheek (not easy to do without biting said tongue – don’t believe me try it), as carrying around the dang things all day has knackered my shoulder but hey ho. 

As book hauls go, this week was mega. It was also rather big in terms of meeting people. I met a whole host of bloggers this weekend who I’m not going to try and name for fear of missing someone and causing great upset, but it was a pleasure to meet you all either finally or again (and you super lovely ones already know who you are 😉 ). I also met quite a few authors that I admire, including Robert Byrndza and the lovely Jan, Caroline Mitchell and Mel Sherratt, Graham Smith, Sarah Wray, Claire Seeber and also got to meet Keshini Naidoo (yes – a small Bookouture bias in this post I think).

It was also lovely to catch up with Kim Nash, Karen Sullivan, Steph Broadribb, Amanda Jennings, Lucy V Hay, Amer Anwar, Felicia Yap, Patricia Gibney, Bernie Steadman and Fiona Cummins again, and to get to say hi to Paul Burston as I absolutely loved his book The Black Path. I even remembered to take pictures of some of them (but not many as I suck at that). Oh yes, and it was nice to see Rod Reynolds again even if he did show Jo and Emma the terrible selfie he took at Crimefest (terrible because I was in it). And lovely to finally meet Graeme Cumming and have a catch up chat with Gabriela Harding in the quiet times. I’m just hoping I haven’t missed anyone and if I have I’m sorry and I do love you too. (Well at least like and admire – love is such a strong word 😉 ).

Have to give credit to Abbie Osborne for the selfies as I would totally not take those 😀

As well as generally milling about I did attend a couple of panels, though not as many as I perhaps would have liked so I’ll try better next time. The Friday night panel chaired by Sarah Millican and featuring Lee Child, Mark Billingham and Val McDermid was hilarious as you would expect. And I totally agree with Sarah Hilary’s shout out for Chris Whitaker as a totally brilliant writing talent. I also went to a blogger/author event organised by Orion where we met Mari Hannah, Emma Kavanagh, Stephanie Marland (aka Steph Broadribb, aka Crime Thriller Girl) and Lara Dearman, a forensics talk in which I learned many important things to include in ‘Killer’, and a quick start talk on writing crime fiction with Isabel Ashdown and Sam Eades.

And I had two lovely evenings out, firstly with Abigail Osborne, Leah and Jill of Jills Book Cafe, and then with Tracy Fenton and the guy and gals from TBC. Thanks for the company all.

And then there were the books… So. Many. Books.

I got the following:

The Devils Claw by Lara Dearman (Kindle pre order 7/9/17);

My Little Eye by Stephanie Marland (Kindle pre order 2/11/17) Happy dance moment :D;

The Wrong Child by Barry Gornell (Kindle pre order 2/11/17);

The Lost by Mari Hannah (Kindle preorder 2/3/18);

Murder at the Mill by M.B. Shaw (Kindle pre order 30/11/17);

Shadow Man by Margaret Kirk (Kindle pre order 2/11/17);

Beautiful Liars by Isabel Ashdown (Kindle pre order 19/4/18);

I Found You by Lisa Jewell;

The Seagull by Ann Cleeves (Kindle pre order 7/9/17) – The only book I actually purchased all weekend.

The Snowman by Jo Nesbo;

If I Die Before I Wake by Emily Koch (Kindle pre order 11/1/18);

Give Me The Child by Mel McGrath;

Eyes Like Mine by Sheena Kamal;

The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell (Kindle pre order 5/10/17);

My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Tallent (Kindle pre order 29/8/17);

The Mountain by Luca D’Andrea;

The Mitford Murders by Jessica Fellowes (Kindle pre order 14/9/17);

The Collector by Fiona Cummins; (soooooooooooo excited about this one and so new there are no Amazon links yet!!! :D) If you don’t know why I’m excited and haven’t yet read Rattle (and if not why not?) then you can order it here and get yourself ready for next year. Did I mention I love that book? I do. I was so excited I may have actually started reading this in bed instead of the books I should have been reading. Oops. (Sorry – not sorry). All the eeeeeeeeeks and squeeeeeeeeals.

The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn (pre order January 2018);

Consent by Leo Benedictus (pre order 1/2/18);

Perfect Remains by Helen Fields;

Anatomy of a Scandal by Sarah Vaughn (Kindle pre order 11/1/18);

Strange Magic by Syd Moore

So all in all a great book haul of a weekend. And I visited Betty’s and treated myself to a belated birthday cake. Go me.

Now the weekend wasn’t without it’s down moments too but least said, soonest mended so lets move on.

Now as if all that wasn’t brilliant enough, before I left for Harrogate I received some absolutely stonkingly fantabulous book post from the wonderful Louise Ross (LJ Ross). Now I knew I’d be getting the signed book as I won it in a charity auction, as well as the chance to be a named character. But I wasn’t expecting to receive a DCI Ryan series mug as well. I actually collect mugs as well as books so this couldn’t have been a better gift for me and will take pride of place in the collection.

And, totally not book related but my new cushions and mugs turned up. How fab are these?

The McMoos by Jennifer Hogwood – You totally need to check out the website.

Just the one book order this week (just as well) which was Bad Sister by Sam Carrington. It’s due out on 5th October and I can’t wait to get my mitts on a copy.

Just the one Netgalley this week too (just as well) which was The Good Sister by Jess Ryder. It’s due for release on 16th August.

I see a theme here. Kind of reminiscent of my life. I have one of each. I’ll let them fight over which is which 😉

I also received an ARC of I Know A Secret by Tess Gerritsen, the brand new Rizzoli and Isles novel which is due out on 10th August.

Now I am hoping that all of these exciting things I’ve been rambling about above will distract you from my reading tally which stands at the grand total of 2. Lorraine at The Book Review Cafe will be laughing at me this week given her mammoth reading achievements and rightly so. If only I’d saved the bloody Mr Men books… When I say reading tally it was one read, one listen as I only completed one book and then listened to an audio on the way too and from Harrogate. Failed blogger I am then (this is not news but now we have evidence).

Books I have read

Red Is The Colour by Mark L. Fowler

A GRIPPING NEW POLICE THRILLER Bullying. Corruption. Murder.

It is the summer of 2002. The corpse of a 15 year old boy, who has been missing for thirty years, is discovered in Stoke-on-Trent. The city is on the cusp of change and Chief Superintendent Berkins wants the case solved quickly. 

DCI Jim Tyler has arrived from London under a cloud, moving to Staffordshire to escape his past. He is teamed up with DS Danny Mills to investigate the case, but there is tension between the detectives.

When the dead boy’s sister comes forward, describing a bright, solitary child, she points a finger at the school bullies, which puts important careers at stake.

Then one of the bullies is found brutally murdered and when Tyler and Mills dig deeper they start to suspect a cover-up.

What is the connection between the death of a schoolboy in 1972 and this latest killing? 

With the pressure building, and the past catching up with DCI Tyler, will he and DS Mills be able to put aside their differences in order to catch a cold-blooded killer?

I’m reviewing this for the blog tour next Monday but I have to be honest and say that this was a really well observed look at childhood bullying an the people who were involved, both directly and indirectly. With a thirty year old victim it is a tough ask for newly transferred DCI Jim Tyler to bring the killer to justice in this new police procedural from Mark L. Fowler and Bloodhound Books. It is released tomorrow, 25th July, and you can buy a copy here.

…

  You Don’t Know Me by Imran Mahmood

It’s easy to judge between right and wrong – isn’t it?

Not until you hear a convincing truth.

Now it’s up to you to decide…

An unnamed defendant stands accused of murder. Just before the Closing Speeches, the young man sacks his lawyer, and decides to give his own defence speech.

He tells us that his barrister told him to leave some things out. Sometimes, the truth can be too difficult to explain, or believe. But he thinks that if he’s going to go down for life, he might as well go down telling the truth.

There are eight pieces of evidence against him. As he talks us through them one by one, his life is in our hands. We, the reader – member of the jury – must keep an open mind till we hear the end of his story. His defence raises many questions… but at the end of the speeches, only one matters:

Did he do it?

Oh my life. What an intriguing novel. Taking courtroom drama to brand new heights this is a story which will not only challenge your idea of right and wrong but also the whole idea of how courtroom dramas should be. Set as a series of court transcripts and told in the defendants voice the author takes you on a journey and you as reader are set to act as jury. I listened to the Audio book of this and I have to say it was absolutely perfect in this format. My review will follow but you can order a copy of the book here.

…

That is all. Thankfully I was fully prepared on the blogging front so I had posts everyday.

#BlogTour Guest Post: Dying Art by Malcolm Hollingdrake

#Booklove: Katherine Sunderland

#BlogTour Review: The Other Twin by Lucy V Hay

Review: Blind Justice by M.A. Comley

#BlogTour Review: Her Deadly Secret by Chris Curran

#BookLove: Jane Cable

#GuestReview: Another You by Jane Cable

…

The week ahead is a bit of a mixture. I start with a review, then some #Booklove with Helena Fairfax, followed by blog tours for The Marriage Pact by Michelle Richmond, and then The Unquiet Dead by Ausma Zehanat Khan with a very special Author Q&A in between, rounding out the week with more #Booklove with Jack Steele and another blog tour, this time The Lost Wife by Anna Mansell.

Hope you have a brilliant week all. I’m reading all day today before going back to work and some more training tomorrow. Boo hiss to that one but someone has to do it. Going to Chester Zoo on Saturday so think of all the animal/nature pics I can share with you next week. You can’t wait can you? Hope they still have the Pudu’s and the Kimodo Dragon. I love them!!!

See you next Monday.

JL

P.S. since penning this post Sunday evening I have been online and preordered three books from Goldsboro (it’s now Sunday bedtime). We’ll just ignore those, pretend I ordered them after midnight and I’ll fill you all in next week 😂

Rewind, recap: weekly update w/e 23/07/17 Man. Where to even begin this week. Well. I will start by saying my reading achievements were next to none.