#Go give it love please love correlates to more chapters from most authors

[muffinlance]

Hey fic rec time! I didn't do these often so you KNOW it's good

If you like Star Wars and Mandos and falling in love with character dynamics you'll never be able to find again because OP just smooshed together things that never existed before

May I introduce you to:

Mando'jekai jedi by Anonymous

Yes Anonymous come out here OP so I can put you in a little jar and provide you optimal writing enrichment and maybe shake you a little to see how you work

Author Summary:

Feemor saves a random Mandalorian and earns himself the position of Jedi watchman for the sector. Now if only the mandos would stop hunting him so that he can investigate this terrorist cell in peace.

Jaster really wants to talk to the jedi who slapped the darksaber into his hands before running off. Now if only the haat'ade could track him down.

My Summary:

Feemor Gives Mandalorians a Life-Changing Field Trip (No They Cannot Exit This Ride): The Fic

The writing is so smooth the humor is HIGH-LARIOUS the angst is wrapped up in the humor which is wrapped up in outsider POV

It's like you went to Fic Restaurant and the waiter slapped the menu out of your hand and said "I've got the good shit" and you were too terrified to protest that actually you were just here for a little hurt/comfort fix-it fic but when they came back

Oh damn

Oh that is the good shit

Anyway click this it's the good shit

[mallowstep]

I'd love to hear some ✨StarClan Slander✨ from you

starclan fucking sucks and i'm not afraid to say it.

ugh. where to begin.

okay, starclan sucks in a lot of different ways. like, a lot. it sucks from a narrative perspective, it sucks from a lives-of-cats perpsective, and it sucks from a worldbuilding perspective.

like: starclan is incredibly inconsistent as worldbuilding. it. gah. that part is most in my control when i write, so i try to really like. maximize said control. but if you compare the description of fireheart getting his nine lives to any modern starclan scene, it pisses me off. starclan is so fucking Cool, and now it's not.

i could go on for a while, but it's more of the same.

and then from a narrative perspective like. it causes so many problems. and i don't mean starclan causes problems for the characters, i mean starclan is simultaneously the cause of a lot of problems while the narrative wants us to believe they are the good guys. starclan causing problems? interesting. starclan causing problems but they're Very Good Actually? lazy.

this is a small thing but like it bothered in tbc? okay so. the fact that the clans' relationship to starclan has changed doesn't bother me. it's really interesting. they've been through this time of massive upheaval, something which often correlates with this uptick in spirituality.

i do not need convincing to believe that as the clans have gone through these past ten or fifteen years, with an exodus and the whole great battle (even setting aside the religious implications and just focusing on: big battle, lots of betrayal, lots of death), and everything with skyclan and darktail, yeah!

like, there was a spiritualism wave in the us after the civil war because that's what people/humanized cats do in those times. they latch on to spirituality and religion. why do you think witchcraft is on an uptick again in modern times?

however the problem is the Narrative never acknowledges this, which makes it feel not like an intentional culture change but authors being lazy. i'm not sure what's worse: authors just leaning on starclan because it's interesting and easy, or authors simply failing to convey the nuances of culture change.

whichever makes the erins sound better, pick that one. i have no lost love for them, but i try to keep my criticisms factual.

anyway, i digress, here's my favourite example:

in tbc, it's this Big Deal how the moonpool is the place of the medicine cats, and other cats cannot enter, Nope No Sir, which, like, really fucking confused me.

what?

do leaders not speak with starclan anymore? is that. is that not a thing?

i mean, in tpb, leaders visit the moonstone all the time. apprentices visit it before coming warriors. it's pretty normal.

and i'm fine with the culture of the clans changing for the moonpool to be a medicine cat exclusive: that does not fundamentally bother me. there's even the smallest nod to this idea in po3, during outcast, when they mention that the tradition of going to the moonstone/pool has fallen out of favour, and maybe that's bad.

and like, yeah, okay: i don't really understand Why it fell out of favour, especially in thunderclan. thunderclan had the Longest journey to the moonstone, and now they have either the shortest journey or one of the shortest, so there's really no excuse, but like. that's diaspora, you lose things, i'm okay with that.

what i'm not okay with is the sudden transformation of the moonpool to a Holy Place only Medicine Cats can touch. like, mothwing has been to the moonstone: she knows this isn't how it was. the others are young enough to not know, but then, when did this idea get started? who put it in their heads? why?

jayfeather has had so much pov, it wouldn't be hard to explain. he could've even taught alderpaw about it. or something could've been slipped into an early shadowpaw chapter. it really would not have taken much: a single line in outcast or something was all i needed to accept the moonstone/pool visitation tradition was dead (even if i think it should've continued), but unless i've forgotten, this is just. never explained.

this is how it Always Was (even though it wasn't, and there are cats who should Know it wasn't).

heck! heck! mistystar shared tongues with starclan in her novella. i don't remember where riverclan was during this scene in tbc, but my point is more. someone should've been able to say something. anything.

probably before the actual scene, given how few cats would know about this: bramblestar should since he was made a warrior in the forest territory, but i'll give the other leaders a pass. all i need is like. one line. from one cat. that's it. that's all i need.

finally, starclan obviously is uhhh. evil? it's evil, right, we can all agree? there is no evil starclan au we're In the evil starclan au, i should write a good starclan au.

the thing about this one is like. it's a product of the others. if starclan wasn't Real and Tangible, then like. then like. it wouldn't matter that they gave shitty advice and did terrible things, because now you just have cats dreaming of others, searching for answers in the Strict Code, and that would all make sense.

(did that paragraph like. read? i can't tell. basically, if starclan wasn't confirmed as a real thing with real dead cats, i would be fine with starclan cats being shitty and ooc, because now it's not actual cats we know and love, it's other cats' perceptions, memories, and inferences of them as they search their ancestors for guidance from the warrior code.

so of course their advice is going to be terrible and inconsistent and leafpool is going to decide spottedleaf said she should have kits and then starclan is going to backflip when the kits are born: all of that makes complete sense as long as starclan isn't an actual place. as long as it's just religion, just dreams and omens, there is no problem with that.)

and then if starclan like. if their role in the clans had been covered more thoroughly by the narrative. if how they gave shitty advice a lot was covered. i would also be okay with it.

but the best we get is mothwing's whole "yo uh. starclan doesn't save cats. i save fucking cats. give me my god damn credit for saving your fucking life." like that's a bad thing no. mothwing. queen. please continue ur so right.

and just as a cherry on top, the ableism in starclan is exhausting. it's its own thing, really, but like. i was talking with @foxstride about this. and like. how disabled cats will just have their disabilities erased.

personally, i'm okay with briarlight not being disabled in starclan. i think that makes sense for her character. i think it is Bad that the narrative's response to that was "now that she's dead she's finally happy again!", it should have been "thunderclan failed to give briarlight the actual support she needed to be happy", but the fact that she's not disabled in starclan doesn't actually bother me.

she was sick basically 100% of the time after her accident, and thunderclan was really shitty to her. do you remember how happy she was to "get" to sleep in the warriors' den? she was a fucking warrior that was her right.

thunderclan failed her, but the takeaway is "she couldn't be happy until she was dead and her disability was magicked away." that's bad. that's. i'm not okay with that part of it.

(briarlight deserves so much better than thunderclan.)

but for pretty much every other instance of it, there's none of that. maybe, maybe, you could make a similar argument for cinderpelt, but i would disagree with it.

my cinderpelt opinion is and always has been: she would never have chosen the path of being a medicine cat for herself, but she ultimately finds happiness and fulfillment with it. like, it wasn't right that she was forced to become a medicine cat because of her accident, but it was something she did ultimately enjoy and was happy to dedicate her life to. if she was given the chance to become a warrior after she had been a medicine cat for a while, she wouldn't have taken it.

it's part of why when i'm doing like. big time aus for warriors i still make her a medicine cat. because i like her growing to love it. i like that it's not right, how it happens, but she still loves it eventually. it's a very interesting idea to me that there aren't many characters to explore it through. jayfeather and alderheart are similar, but not in the same way. anyway i'm rambling because these are all the things i thought about when writing stolag, back on topic.

so i don't think cinderpelt should have her disability poofed by starclan, i think she should keep it. i also think that cats who are injured and then aren't disabiled in starclan should be representitve of that. they should be the age before they got injured.

briarlight should be apprentice aged, a hypo-cinderpelt should also be apprentice aged. this is something i'm fine with. i make hollyleaf apprentice aged in starclan because i think she was happiest before the ending of po3.

moving on: snowkit? can apparently hear? wtf?

and y'all already know how much i hate that jayfeather can see in his dreams. i said No that's Not Canon anymore and no one (no one) can stop me.

in conclusion: starclan is bad in a lot of ways, and if it weren't so damn inconsistently bad, i think i wouldn't hate it half as much.

<3

[riseofarmy]

00 | GIVE ME YOUR WISHLIST

i can do this all day 00 | give me your wishlist

author : @riseofarmy

pairing : kim seokjin x original character

words : 687

i can do this all day masterlist

DARLING

I was ready to wring the prince's neck.

Jungkook had forced me into the seat next to his with hearts in his eyes, and since then, he had been not-so-subtly trying to drape his arm around my shoulder. He was not at all getting the hint that I was more interested in choking his regal ass with the bread roll in front of me than letting him touch me.

A glare from Seokjin, though, reminded me why was here. He did that annoying thing he so loves to do, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with the person beside him while his actual concentration was on me, or rather, inside my brain.

Come on, Darling, Seokjin said, his voice bouncing in my head. At least pretend to be interested in what he's saying.

In response, I imagine a donkey with projectile diarrhoea and beam it into Seokjin's thoughts. It makes him wince so strongly that the woman next to him holds onto his arm very helpfully to make sure he's okay - he has that strange sir-please-let-me-touch-you effect on people.

I force Seokjin out of my head and turn my attention back to the dopey, lovesick prince with his dopey, lovesick smile.

"Princess Darling, have I ever told you your eyes are richer than the most fertile of soil?"

I give him a strained grimace, barely stopping myself from ripping his hair out. "Only about a hundred times, Prince Jungkook, but I'm grateful you find me beautiful even after all this time."

He smiles so softly I thought he might kiss me (yikes), but before he can say something else sappy, the Asshole King clears his throat to get our attention.

"I thought I would let you know that the preparations for your wedding are going splendidly. I can have you wedded by the end of the month."

Shit. That's only two weeks away.

I look at Seokjin, who has suddenly gone very still. I guess he realises how it's going too soon, not at all according to the plan we had roughly thrown together on the day we met. I need more time to dig my claws into the king.

So I smile graciously at the king.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, but there's no need to rush. It's already decided that Jungkook and I will get married, so we may as well take our time. Don't you think so, Jungkook?"

I didn't feel guilty for tricking Jungkook with the Take My Side Oh Big Strong Man expression I faked. In fact, watching the prince laser in on my lightly pouting lips reminded me of the power I had over him, and by correlation over the king.

Jungkook nods eagerly and proceeds to explain to his father how there was 'no reason at all to rush, in fact, we can even wait a few months because blah blah blah' and eventually the king agrees.

My relief at his answer carries me through the rest of dinner, and the second I get the chance, I slip away to my room with Seokjin.

I can feel his eyes on me as I wash off the gunk I'm expected to put on my face every morning, feel them burning through the bamboo screen I change my clothes behind.

When I come out again, he stands up and strides up to me, holding my gaze with such sincerity it makes me want to step back.

"Darling... are you sure you still want to do this? Get married to Jungkook just to have your chance at revenge?"

I want to reply flippantly, but something about his strained voice and the way he cards a hand through his purple hair makes me answer more carefully.

"I... Well, of course. Isn't that what we're here for? What else could we..." What else could I do but the thing I've already spent most of my life planning?

Seokjin's shoulders sag, just a little bit. I can tell he hoped I would say something else, but I can't tell what that something else should have been.

"Alright then, Darling. Whatever you wish, I'll make it happen."

i can do this all day masterlist

next chapter

[ragnarachael]

jukebox hero (stars in his eyes) — give her every reason to accept that you’re for real (i know i’m in love)

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ER Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 4,389

Series Summary: The five times you caught Stephen singing as he did work around the hospital and the one time he caught you.

Chapter Summary: Stephen Strange is new to the whole.. love thing. Thankfully, he figures it out with a little help.

Author’s Ramblings: HAPPY YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO JUKEBOX! it’s officially been a year since we’ve started this journey together! i’m so glad i started this story, and i’m thankful for everyone who has supported it through the year! anyways, i’m gonna stop rambling! this is it! we’re close to the end! (the gif has NOTHING to do with the content.... he just looks so nice in it okay)

also, since it’s the year anniversary, i’m having a little celebration kinda deal! here’s the post that talks about it more if you’re curious! enjoy the chapter!!

track one track two track three track four track five (you are here)

MASTERLIST !  FEEDBACK !

Stephen went back to his apartment that night and paced until he was about ready to pass out from lack of sleep.

He's messed up. He's very, very aware.

It's uncharted territory.

Stephen's never really... liked anyone this much before. And because of that, he was shifting gears to go into panic mode. While he was up pacing, he was trying to think of ways to tell you that it was all about you.

It's always been about you.

All he could come up with were grand displays of affection. Those weren't much his style. Nor yours, so that was out before it was ever in.

When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were about you and him. The relationship you two could have if he didn't mess it up.

That's when he knew he needed to ask for help.

Stephen never goes to anyone for help. Ever. Usually, he’s got everything under control, and fixes it no problem (ignore the fax and printer machine from that one time and the other time when he almost, almost broke some important thing when he was just starting his residency).

But this time was.. different.

"Please help me out, Christine. You're my only hope."

"I cannot believe I'm basically your Obi-Wan Kenobi right now," Christine stressed as she buried her face in her hands with a groan. She took her time sitting up properly at the nurse's station on the fourth floor of Metro-General before clearing her throat, the pads of her fingers moving to rub her temples. "I am not your only hope, first of all. And second: what the hell did you do now?"

"Wait, hold on, I'm not Leia—"

"Stephen, yes you are. Now what did you do?" Christine demanded, her hands landing onto the desktop harshly. Stephen let his jaw drop momentarily at her outburst before sighing, trying to loosen up his tense shoulders.

"You know how I was trying to get the courage to tell Y/N about how I feel?"

Christine let out a soft sigh, letting her hands slip from the desktop to her lap. "I remember. Did she not take it well?"

"No! She— Well," Stephen started hopefully as if he was about to lie about your reaction before huffing and rubbing a hand over his face. "Yes. She didn't."

Christine tried to hide the groan of frustration she let out as she buried her face in her hands.

"You're a damn idiot."

"Yes I am," Stephen agreed immediately, moving to cross his arms over his chest. "I don't know how to fix it."

Christine let her hands run down her face before finally letting them rest just under her chin to hold her head up. "You're asking me to ask Y/N out for you?"

"No—"

"That's such a smart idea! I can't believe—"

"Christine!" Stephen said sternly, letting his hands slam on the counter top that the desk was placed in front of. "That's not what I'm asking."

"Then what are you asking?"

That made Stephen stop and think.

What was he asking?

Stephen seemed frozen as Christine studied him as he looked for the answer. The words he was thinking of to describe what he needed help with weren't coming up easy.

This is what his mother meant when he was younger when she said he was hard to help, didn't she? Stephen noticed the look Christine was giving him. It looked as if she was concerned.

"Do you.. Do you not know what to do to win Y/N over?" She questioned gently now, starting to realize just how serious this was to Stephen. He was never this silent for long.

"I.." Stephen stopped to take a deep breath and push off of the counter. "Yeah. I don't know what to do."

"Really?"

"Yes really, Christine," Stephen heaved. "If I didn't care so much about this I wouldn't have asked for help. I've already messed up so much, I want to be able to come back from this, y'know." Stephen felt terrible after he said that. He sounded rude. And if he wanted help right now, he should act—

"Okay, okay. I'll help you."

Stephen's shoulders relaxed immediately at her reply before thanking her profusely. Christine could only laugh at his sudden joy and eased him down. "You're welcome, now shut up and get back here so we can plot."

Stephen was never faster to get behind the nurse's desk in his life.

He flung himself into the empty office chair in front of the free computer next to Christine, right leg bouncing nervously.

“So,” Christine started easily, pulling out a small note pad out from a drawer and grabbed her pen before crossing a leg over the other and holding it as if she were a therapist. “What have you thought of so far?”

When Stephen started listing his ideas—starting with extravagant and ending with simplistic—he didn’t expect pouring his lovesick heart out to Christine would be this easy. She was supportive and understanding with some of the ideas he originally had and was also willing to completely call him out on how the idea was a stupid one.

Stephen was feeling thankful he was on her good side for once.

He and Christine agreed to put down everything in two different columns.

One was deemed the “Definitely Useful”  and the other was deemed “Bad Ideas”. And the bad ideas weigh out the useful ones after they took a few minutes to talk it all out.

“I mean, I could start trying to drop hints when we talk? Maybe you could try to serenade her—”

“What?” Stephen questioned, suddenly scared as he sat up straight. “No way.”

“What do you mean no way? You sing all the time around here anyways—”

“Yeah, when I’m alone, not in front of people on purpose, Christine—”

“Oh my god—”

“What’s going on?”

Stephen and Christine looked up from the writing pad quickly to see you looking at the two them confused. Stephen seemed to let out a groan of thought, his mind completely moving elsewhere as he took in your appearance.

This was the first time he was seeing you since last night, and he could definitely feel the guilt wrapping around his heart when he noticed your eyes were a little redder than usual.

"We're just.. uh, we were just—"

"We're talking about making a technique together," Christine said, letting out what sounded like an agitated sigh. "But someone is too picky and won't choose something that could be improved on."

Stephen got the hint. He could hear it in Christine's voice.

He just couldn't come up with words. It's like after seeing you last night he can't form sentences.

"Yeah. Uh. That."

You couldn't help but eye the two of them behind the counter, shifting the bag you had on your shoulder. You were just getting in for your shift, it seemed.

"Well, as much fun as I'm having," Stephen started, his voice wavering with what he could assume was nervousness as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, "I've gotta dash. I've got a.. A uh.. thing."

"A thing?" You questioned, your voice practically dripping with what sounded like annoyance. Stephen tried to put on a confident face as he nodded in response, slipping past the opening of the nurse's station.

"A thing. I'll see you both later?"

Stephen didn't wait for a response from you or Christine as he sidestepped past you and moved into the hall that led into the hospital and out of the first floor of the ER.

His heart was pounding. It always was after talking with you. But this time? This time it was pounding out of fear and anxiety.

Maybe Christine was right. Serenading you could be an option. If he could even speak when he interacted with you the next time.

Running his hands over his face before letting his hands slip into his hair, Stephen sighed harshly while absentmindedly traveling to the wall of elevators to get to one of the floors he was set to operate in for the day, not even hesitating to slam his hand into the buttons on the panel that was attached to the wall.

The rest of his day was spent thinking about you, and all of the possible songs that he could even use to serenade you. Billy had actually played a few decent songs while they were in the OR together, but they just didn't fit.

He also kept coming back to ABBA and more stuff by The Eagles, but he just didn't think any of their songs fit the situation either. Well, some ABBA songs probably did. However, he didn't want you to correlate him with ABBA, since he knew that you'd hate him even more than you do right now if he did that.

He figured it out when he got in his car after his shift, already having another awkward interaction with you under his belt and another round of scolding from both Christine and Claire.

Billy Joel.

It was the first thing that came on when he started the car. Billy Joel's Tell Her About It. If he recalled correctly, from his 1983 album "An Innocent Man".

Why did it just hit him now? How the two of you met, months ago, he remembers calling you Billy Joel fondly. Why didn't he think of that sooner?

He really was an idiot.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath as he turned the volume dial of his car radio up after buckling himself in, preparing for his drive back to his apartment.

That night, he listened to most of that specific album on a repeat, finding it in a small stack of vinyls he happened to have thanks to a friend of his who thrifted them. Everything felt as if it was falling into place as he sang along to the song for the third time in a row as he got ready for his shower.

But the next day at work most certainly did not matter.

Stephen had come in his favorite pair of scrubs—the dark purple ones—and actually shaved prior to coming in, only to find that you weren't there.

Obviously, his first stop on his way in as he finished his coffee was the nurse's station to find Christine hunched over some paperwork.

She somehow knew that it was him who was about to speak up and relayed the information.

"She's not here today."

"Wait," Stephen said, his face scrunching up in concern. "Really? Like, not at all—"

"No," Christine replied with some laughter, looking up from the paperwork she was doing, "Y/N had a family thing to attend upstate."

Stephen clicked his tongue as he nodded, looking around the empty waiting room of the main floor. "Got it."

"Did you figure out what you're going to do? Is a serenade in the cards?" Christine questioned, her eyebrow wiggle accompanying her slight dramatized tone interest as she spoke.

"Maybe. Thank you for the cover from yesterday, by the way," Stephen replied, placing his cup of coffee down on the desk for a moment. "A new technique?"

Christine rolled her eyes as she smiled, shrugging.

"What can I say? I'm the best! Now go clock in. I have paperwork to do."

Stephen let out a dramatic whining noise as he grabbed his cup, turning to the doors that led into the rooms of the ER. 

He was quick to get to the locker room after clocking in, already singing the Billy Joel song quietly under his breath in between gulps of coffee. Even though Stephen considered it stupid to sing the song even though you're not here, it's stuck in his head. So he really couldn't help it.

However, Stephen learned Christine lied the second you ran into his chest. You were leaving the locker room as he was coming in.

And Stephen was forever thankful that his coffee was pretty much gone when the cup fell out and onto the floor, not even spilling as the plastic lid popped off.

"I'm sorry—"

"I'm so sorry—"

After you both spoke at the same time, you took a step back to get out of Stephen's personal space. The awkward air was tangible. 

"Uh, hey!" You exclaimed with a forced smile.

Stephen greeted you back with a stressed laugh, noticing you were wearing some scrubs that had planets and stars speckled on the fabric. That meant..

"You're here for work?"

"Yeah! Actually.. yeah I am," you started as your hands slid into your pockets. "The thing I had got... cancelled, so I just decided to come in."

Stephen had a feeling that the story was a cover up now. He shouldn't be so quick to judge, but he has a hunch. Maybe you were lying to him just so you could avoid him?

He's really messed it up that much, hadn't he?

"Oh? A thing? That's a shame," Stephen replied evenly, ignoring the pang of sadness he felt in his chest when he realized that, yes, you were probably trying to avoid him now. 

"Yeah, but it's rescheduled for two weeks from now, so it's all good," you explained quickly, almost as if you didn't want to stop talking to him.

It made something in Stephen's chest soar. He ignored his racing thoughts to pay attention to what you were saying once you cleared your throat awkwardly.

"I noticed you were singing uh... Tell Her About It? That Billy Joel song, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, off his 1983 album An Innocent Man."

"That's such a good album," you said softly, taking a breath before shaking your head and giving a genuine smile that knocked the wind out of Stephen's lungs. "I'll uh, catch you later."

Stephen agreed quietly as he watched you leave the locker room, scrunching his face up in confusion as he leaned to pick up his empty coffee cup and plastic lid.

Were you catching on? Or were you just coming to terms with the mess that Stephen had made that you had no clue about?

One thing that stood out in his mind though, was that he was headed in the right direction. Now his only goal was to try and stay in it.

He wishes there was more time to dwell on it, but after he put everything away in his locker, the day was nothing but being occupied with multiple surgeries and sitting in on other operations. Stephen barely had time to stop and think about everything that's already happened in the first half of his shift. However, for the second half, he was determined to sing under his breath whenever he could. 

Stephen barely bumped into you. Even after clocking out to go home, you were nowhere to be found.

Day two of.. whatever he was trying to pull was almost exactly as the first one. Busy, full of surgeries and singing Billy Joel whenever possible, and barely running into you. Part of him was starting to wonder if he should just bite the bullet and talk to you out right.

But that genuinely scared him. The idea of confrontation, especially with a topic he can't quite get a whole grasp on yet? He'd rather take his chances singing under his breath.

However, the third and final day of what he deemed as "Subtle Serenading" after sitting and realizing he needs to try and speed this process up, Stephen changed the song.

Billy Joel's Leave A Tender Moment Alone was shoved into his head and he was going to make sure that it didn't leave at all until he actually got to see you for the day.

Stephen's shift was going well. Although it was a night shift—his least favorite—he still found ways to be productive while he sang the slow song. Some of his coworkers did watch him sing a little too loud as he made copies of some paperwork to place back in a file he was working in, though. That made him a little self-conscious.

When he was doing some rounds for information on some patients he had helped operate on, he caught glimpses of you and Claire behind the counters of the floor you were all working on. 

He also noticed your choice of scrubs today was just a regular dark green color, which made him wish he chose to wear his pair, it would have been terribly ironic, but maybe it would start conversation rather than intense stares across the halls of the quiet hospital.

Around midnight, he decided to get coffee. It was his third of the night already, sure, but he had seven hours left in his shift. He was sure he needed the caffeine to keep him from losing his mind.

Stephen was trying to hold back the volume of his singing as he made his way to the break room, dramatically bopping his head back and forth before throwing the door open. His voice faltered slightly as he saw you working on paperwork in the middle table.

The very same table that you tried to nap at on the day you almost—

"What's got into you?" You questioned suddenly as Stephen felt the door hit him square in the back. He let out a grunt, moving over to the countertop where the coffee pot was placed.

"I just.. didn't expect you in here."

"In the break room?"

Stephen felt the sudden urge to slap himself, realizing how stupid his reply was. He let out a quiet sigh  as he started to mess with the coffee machine, getting ready to make a fresh pot.

"Yeah. It's.. It's one of those days."

You seemed to take that as an answer, humming in agreement before all the two of you could hear was the scratching of a pen on paper.

It took Stephen a bit to work up the courage to actually start singing again, but he started singing the chorus of the song just under his breath as he placed the filter in the coffee machine's required compartment before filling it with one of the vanilla flavored coffee grounds that someone had left in the designated coffee cabinet. 

The silence was a little tense, but Stephen didn't mind. He would never turn down time with you, whether you were conversing with him or not.

You had decided to speak up as he started to sing the song over.

“Could you please stop with the Billy Joel?”

Stephen turned around after he finished checking that the coffee machine was ready to be started before pressing the start button. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve been singing Billy Joel for the past three days and it’s been driving me  crazy,” you explained as you continued filling in what looked like paper work at the table you occupied.

Stephen rose a brow, starting to feel his heart to pick up speed, “may I ask why?”

You paused writing on the paper and took in a deep breath before continuing.

“Because you sing the songs perfectly and it's making me wish that—” You cut yourself off as you realized how frantic your voice was getting. You took a moment to collect yourself before huffing. “Nevermind. It’s not worth it.”

“Hey,” Stephen said gently as he pulled up a seat to sit next to you as you finished filling out the page you were on, “it’s worth it if it’s bugging you. You know you can tell me, right?”

“I-It’s stupid.” You placed the pen down slowly after capping it, rotating it in your hands to avoid Stephen’s eye contact.

“It’s not stupid, Y/N,” Stephen said sternly.

You finally glanced at Stephen and he felt his heart clench in his chest from worry. He watched you hesitate and take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s making me wish that... That it was about me. The singing, or whatever.”

Stephen froze. 

His mind was racing with your confession. You wished it was about you.  It was about you. You just didn’t get that. It’s always been about you since the first day you actually talked to him. It’s never not been about you.

Stephen’s brain was kicking into overdrive. This wasn’t the plan he and Christine had decided on at all. He usually stays on script. He can’t stay on script.

He may as well be throwing caution to the wind with the rest of your relationship you have with him, if he could even call it that—

You let out a shaky laugh, gathering your papers together into a small stack.

“It was dumb. I told you. I told you. Let’s forget this ever happened, ‘kay? Cool—”

“Can I tell you something?” Stephen said quickly his hand reaching out to grasp your own that wasn't holding the paper, making sure to make eye contact to let you know in his own way that he’s serious. You hesitated again before sighing, everything in your hands abandoned onto the table top.

You gently pulled your hand from Stephen's and waved it. “Knock yourself out.”

“The other night, in the parking garage,” Stephen started slowly. How the fuck did he even get to this point? The plan was far in the rearview mirror. He had to keep moving forwards and bite the bullet. 

He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face with irritation. You can do this.

“I was talking about you.”

The silence you had in response was deafening. Stephen didn’t dare breathe while he waited for a reply.

“I.. You..  What?" Was all you could reply with. 

Stephen didn’t know if that was due to shock or happiness.

“It was about...  you, Y/N. All of it. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was someone else—I’m not too sure how I could, if I’m honest—but that doesn’t matter. It was about you. When you talked to me and Christine a day or two ago, I was asking her for help on what I could do to.. to fix this mess, I guess.”

Stephen took a moment to glance up at you now, no longer looking at his hands that were trying to avoid picking at his nails. He couldn’t read your emotions on your face like usual, so he took it as a cue to keep going as he stood up from his chair to start pacing around the break room rather than try to think about bouncing his leg.

“I knew it looked suspicious but I couldn’t figure out what to do, and--and it was just so hard for me to figure it out on my own because this is the one thing I didn’t want to try and mess up with—”

“Stephen—”

“—And I don’t know what I would do with myself if you ended up hating me. I can’t stop thinking about you almost every time I turn the radio on and hear a classic rock song. It’s like the radio is hooked up to my brain and just knows I’m thinking of you in some way—”

You tried to interrupt Stephen again, but he continued rambling.

Stephen Strange never knew how to shut up once he got started rambling. Whether it came to his studies or you, apparently.

“Stephen,” you said, cutting him off for the third time, standing up and placing your hands on his chest to stop him from pacing. “You’re rambling.”

Stephen looked at you before you watched his face turn a fairly cute red color as he realized.

“I-I’m.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start rambling. This is turning out just great—”

The words in Stephen’s throat died just as quick as they started spilling out again, your hands curling around the collar of his scrubs to yank him down and finally, finally kiss him.

Stephen was in a state of shock for a minute, taking a moment to realize that yes, your lips were on his.

After he came to his senses, he kissed you back gently, as if he was trying to hold back. Still unsure of your answer, even though your answer was in the kiss.

Sadly, you had to pull away, knowing that Stephen had to breathe, since you had cut him off while talking.

Although, something told you that he would continue kissing you, with or without air in his lungs.

Your hands were still wrapped around the collar of his top, your shared breathing soft as another blanket of silence fell over the two of you.

It was... relieving. As if the kiss you just shared cleaned the slate and you knew where you both stood.

Which is why Stephen leaned back in for another kiss. Except this time, it was more desperate and almost like he’s been waiting to let himself out of his own head and just act on his instincts like he did with everything else.

When you met him in the middle, throwing your arms around his neck as your lips molded perfectly with his for the second time today, you found yourself kissing back with the same amount of hunger. You tried getting up onto your toes to makeup for the height difference, but Stephen’s arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you slightly as he shuffled the two of you towards what you could only assume was the counter top.

It turns out you were right as your lower back ran into the edge, causing you to squeak against Stephen’s lips as your hands gripped handfuls of his hair in the process of your shock.

That made Stephen pull away to chuckle breathlessly just inches away from your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. His laughter was extremely contagious, and you found yourself giggling with him as you let your head fall back slightly.

Stephen’s anxiety was for nothing, he realized in this moment.

His panic to try and make amends  with grand gestures wasn’t as dire as he believed it to be. All he had to do was get himself rambling and it all worked out.

It all worked out perfectly.

"So," you started quietly once your eyes were locked with Stephen's once again, the giggling out of your system. "You take song requests now?"

"For you, Billy Joel? Anyday."

[artificialqueens]

like a virgin. (jackie/nicky) — roza

a seven part story where each chapter details a different relationship with jackie based solely on the song correlated to their individual madonna rusical verses.

[ summary ] : nicky is convinced jackie needs to let loose and have some fun after all the years they've spent working together in the fashion industry. 

[ verse two: like a virgin ]

[ author's note ] : the second part of this series! I didn't want to skip this verse because I love jackie too much and the song is iconic. I also needed nothing but an excuse to add my favourite and og season 12 pairing into this series!tumblr is @leljaaa and thank you meg for being a wonderful beta!

— *.✧

"Can you pass me that please?"

Nicky turned and nodded, passing Jackie the fabric scissors that were right in front of the French woman's desk. The Persian held up the black tulle fabric and grinned, pulling the blonde next to her body as she began to wrap some of the fabric around her body.

"Is this some kind of intervention?" Nicky laughed gently before Jackie shook her head, marking out her shoulders with a fabric marker before gently pulling off the fabric from her body.

"I'm trying to make you a dress for Friday," the marker still in her mouth as she spoke firmly. The blonde gasped as she sighed, completely forgetting about the stupid movie premiere that Nicky had been invited to while they were back home in Paris.

The fabric was already spread out on the table behind them as Jackie snipped away, occasionally looking at the drawing she had made for a point of reference.

"It will look beautiful as always," Nicky began as her arms snaked around to hug Jackie from behind, holding her waist and letting her head stay buried in the crook of the Persian's neck. "I shouldn't be surprised, that's why you're my favourite assistant and designer."

Jackie had met the French woman two years ago for an internship during her time at design school. The entire goal of it was to simply come and snoop around Nicky's fashion brand, maybe get a word in from the expert herself or learn some new design processes.

Instead what happened was the Canadian dropping out of her school in Toronto and immediately moving to Paris the second Nicky offered her an exclusive job as her personal assistant and designer.

The blonde had been beyond impressed with the designs and worth ethic Jackie had shown her during her short stay in France. She felt it was only necessary to try and keep her as long as possible.

Paid salary and housing included of course.

Despite their personalities almost always contrasting, Jackie quickly became her favourite friend and person.

The two grew close with Jackie's entire job being to design and assist her on every and any matter that came up.

She would see Nicky sob at her desk.

She would get to hear her spill all about her toxic family.

She saw first-hand her dumping her socialite boyfriend in favour of coming out to the French public.

Most importantly: she got to see Nicky beyond the rich, beautiful, dull Parisian facade. Every.wall she had built up from years and years of pressure in the limelight and in the media came crashing down the minute Jackie earned her trust.

"Well it's my job," the Persian finally mumbled under her breath as she looked at the fabric, beginning to write down the shoulder lengths having memorized Nicky's measurements already in her head.

"You hired me to be here with you so the least I can do is make you a fancy dress."

"You're so sweet baby," Nicky hummed as she let go of her waist and gently hopped up on to the marble table, her eyes only watching Jackie cut out fabric and begin to meticulously outline her patterns. "It's a beautiful concept."

One date.

All the hours every day spent together and added up still weren't enough or either of them to gain enough confidence to ask each other out on an actual date. The day Nicky asked she saw the discomfort and anxiety in Jackie's face and immediately dropped the idea, suggesting they instead go wine tasting together.

How French of me. Nicky thought.

There were the occasional shoulder brushes or even the more than occasional, almost constant kisses. Their lips pressed to each other for minutes on end as their hands would interlock before Jackie pushed her away, feeling her stomach churn and fear arise again when they kissed for too long.

She had found out from listening to her talk to her best friend back home in Canada that the fear was more internalized and had nothing to with Nicky's publicity or her status.

"I'm not ready for this ," had become Jackie's most used phrase since she began working side by side with Nicky. They left it alone for a week before the kissing began again and two decided internally that the best thing to do was never bring it up and never act on the feelings any further.

"Your birthday is Friday!"

Jackie chuckled, taking a minute to glance up at Nicky with a soft smile painted across her lips. "It is but I don't need any more parties please," the Persian begged as Nicky groaned the minute she heard the words leave her mouth.

"Nicky no!"

The fashion designer whined like a lost puppy, holding on to her arm for a brief moment before letting her eyes stare into Jackie's, her fingertips gently brushing aside all the loose strands of hair near her ear.

"You're no fun Jacqueline," she teased in a whisper as she drew out her birth name with a huff. The blonde smirked as she grabbed Jackie by her waist and leaned into her lips, "If we celebrated alone and after that stupid movie? Just the two of us?"

The Persian bit her bottom lip, it was beyond difficult to resist any question that came from Nicky's mouth and it was even harder to resist the urge to not kiss her right now, just throw away the project and focus every bit of attention on Nicky.

"If you promise me there won't be anyone else but us then of course I'll spend my day off with you."

"I'm keeping you to it."

— *.✧

The dress was perfect.

It was far too perfect and clean for an event this subdued.

Nicky by far looked the best as she always did. She smiled for every single camera as she felt the flash of the camera's coming constantly from bombardment of paparazzi as she walked down the carpet in her off the shoulder, gathered tulle dress custom made by Jackie, of course.

I just want to be with Jackie…

She stared down at the details of the ruffled chiffon hem that lined the entire dress as her mind was only focusing on thoughts about Jackie and how awful she felt knowing she deserved to finally give one day of full attention to the Persian girl.

Especially on her birthday.

I could just skip this event entirely… no one would dare to even stop me.

The minute she walked down the carpet she took a steep turn to the right, trying to run as fast as she could with heels on as well as an entire train of fabric piled behind her.

Somehow she made it through to the parking lot without even so much as a stare in her direction, managing to make it into her car as she thanked her personal driver. She typed out Jackie's address for him to see as she mentioned that she had to stop at a flower shop.

Red roses. Only red roses.

There were an assortment of looks as she approached the door, a few teenagers crowded around her and begged for photos which Nicky couldn't possibly refuse before she stepped in the small flower shop and begged for as many red roses as possible.

The total only came out to about thirty euros but Nicky only had a two hundred euro bill.

She shrugged as she handed it over, the owner at first refused to take her money but the French woman truly had no time to waste arguing about money she had to waste so she threw the bill in the small tip jar and said goodbye.

Racing outside once again, she found the car parked just a few steps away from the shop as she hopped in and could officially relax against the car's leather seats.

Ten minutes and Nicky was dropped outside of the familiar apartment as she took the dozens upon dozens of red roses in her hand. She managed to enter the pin before sighing heavily.

Nicky realized that going to Jackie's complex with a bundle of red roses in one hand and a flowing, tulle dress probably wasn't a smart idea when you had to walk up three flights of stairs.

She threw her heels off as she began to power walk her way up the steps with a determination to make it to Jackie's cute apartment and surprise her with an abundance of roses.

She buzzed the brass doorbell in front of her as she wiped off the sweat that built in her forehead, immediately smiling seeing Jackie both impressed and confused at the same time.

Nicky was pulled inside as Jackie turned up the fans, clearly seeing that the French woman had either run her entire way here or frantically ran up the steps.

"Are these for me?"

The Persian breathless as Nicky nodded, handing over the entire massive bouquet with a wink as she explained that she researched and found that Iran's national flower was the red rose.

"Nicky," she muttered breathless as Nicky kissed her hands with a smile, Jackie placing the flowers on her kitchen counter as she took the French woman in her arms. The two of them swung side to side as the radio blasted throughout the living room and kitchen area.

"I'm significantly underdressed," she whispered against her skin as Nicky giggled happy to simply be in the dress, admitting that she skipped the event and just ran off after the carpet and photography was finished.

"You skipped the event for me?"

"Of course I did Jackie," the blonde grinned ear to ear seeing the flush across the Persian's cheeks growing darker and darker.

"Was my dress that ugly?" She joked before Nicky cackled, snorting for a brief moment as she buried her head once more in the crook of her neck with a deep sigh.

"It was beautiful, it's one of my favourite dresses I've ever worn and I will absolutely wear it again."

"What an honour."

The two of them sat on her couch, eating bundles of Tiramisu and drinking far too much white wine for their own good as they ended up an hour later just a bit tipsy with their hands interwoven.

"Happy birthday my love," Nicky whispered as her hand softly slid down Jackie's cheek. The blonde pressed a kiss to her forehead as the Persian gnawed at the inside of her cheeks before admitting that she got the only birthday present she wanted.

"Really? Did someone actually do something better than my roses?"

Jackie snickered, rolling her eyes as she ran her fingers through Nicky's hair with a smile admitting that the only thing she truly wished for was to have the French woman near her.

"I'm near you all the time, we work together," she laughed quietly before she saw the blush forming across Jackie's cheeks.

"I need you Nicky."

The blonde blinked confused for a solid ten seconds before feeling Jackie tighten the grip of their hands as she noticed the Persian nodding at her last comment.

"Oh," she gasped. "Oh," She repeated with a wide smile forming across her lips, Jackie was undeniably trying to come through with the offer without saying the actual words.

"You want to have sex with me?"

Nicky laughed aloud seeing the Persian groan the minute she said the sentence, the blonde lifting her chin with her fingertips. "I want you as well Jackie," she whispered as she winked at the Persian who leaned into her lips with a worried breath.

"I am always ready when you would like to," Nicky muttered against her lips as they seperated, Jackie standing up as she held out a hand for the French woman to take.

She did.

There was no use shutting her door but Jackie thought it was intimate and it clearly served a good use as Nicky almost immediately pinned her up against her own bedroom with a chuckle seeing the Persian yelp.

Their lips pressed against one another as the blonde kept her hand's above Jackie's head, the two of them interlocking fingers as Nicky pressed her lips against her neck hearing the Persian immediately start to get anxious.

"You okay?" The question was genuine and soft as the Persian nodded, embarrassed to admit that she'd just had never done any of this before with a woman.

She felt Jackie's heart beat as if it was her very first time, which with a woman it certainly was.

"We don't have to if you're uncomfortable you know, I love kissing you just as much."

"I want to, I promise," Jackie gently managed to choke out as she left a kiss on her shoulder, the dark red lipstick she had on still lingering and leaving a small print on her bare skin.

There was nothing but silence as her hand gently slipped under the fabric, both of them watching Nicky's dress fall to the floor swiftly as she immediately kicked it across to the other side of the bedroom.

"Beautiful dress," Jackie teased with a chuckle as she saw Nicky kick her custom dress across like it was nothing. The Parisian scoffed, melting into another kiss as she admitted that the dress was not currently needed.

"I'll be yours till the end of time," she hummed feeling nothing but their hearts beating in sync with one another as they laid across the bed.

"Take me away."

[mysweetestcreature]

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 12: All I Want for Christmas

***

Author’s note: Hiiiiii, so I honestly have no idea what happened to the post scheduled for earlier, but Tumblr has always been a little b*tch so I’m not surprised lmao. This version isn’t as well edited as the one that disappeared, so please excuse any slips (it’s late and I’m kind of drunk so teehee). ANYWAY! Happy Holidays, everyone! Thank you so much for everything you do for me. From the bottom of my heart, I love you all :’)

***

Masterlist

***

Saturday December 13, 2008

With the holiday season comes all things festive; from brilliant and twinkling lights wrapped around post lamps, to an army of nutcracker statuettes that line town square, and finally that wishful little mistletoe hung above a few select archways and unsuspecting doorframes. There’s a different attitude that floats in the air during this time of year, an unexplainable elation swirled in with a dash of mild intensity.

You’ll never see more people in one place than at the mall, when everyone is on a mission to find that perfect gift, maybe even the perfect outfit for the office Christmas party with the cheap wine, or something of a school dance that may or may not be the social event of the year (unless you’re a senior, then prom is most definitely the only thing to look forward to).

“Why can’t I see it?” Harry pouts, peeking into the gaps of the brown Bloomingdale’s paper bag. 

She rolls her eyes; this is probably the eighth time in twenty minutes he’s asked her. For some reason he’d been under the impression that he’d get to see her try it on. Much to his dismay (but to her amusement), however, it had been a quick and easy pick up from the alterations department on the third floor. “Because I’m your girlfriend, and I said you can’t.”

Harry frowns slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t really see a correlation between those two statements, although. . .” He backs her against a wall, hands finding their place on the curves of her hips. A cheeky grin replaces his former expression, dimples making their indents on either side of his mouth. “I do like it when you call yourself my girlfriend.” 

Humming, she tilts her head to the side and wraps her arms around his middle. He swallows when she grazes the tip of her nose to his, his mouth parting in anticipation. They’re close enough that he can easily smell her strawberry lip balm. “Yeah?” she speaks meekly. The radiant look in her eyes makes his heart beat thrice its usual rhythm. He nods in response, just about ready to lean down.

Of course, timing has never been their strongest point, and Harry’s phone rings annoyingly from the pocket of his North Face. He sighs, dropping his head down, eyes squeezing shut when he sees the name lit up on the screen. “Are you gonna answer that, or should I?” Y/n giggles, snatching his cell from between his fingers. He shakes his head and pleads her not to pick it up, but she flips the cover open and brings it right to her ear. “Hi, Anne!” 

There’s a string of mumbles from under his breath. He had assumed that they’d be free from interruptions once they’d finally gotten together, but time and time again (an average of three times a week, he’s noticed) there’s always someone out to mess with him. The other day, Mason had squirmed his way between them while they were cuddled up under her favorite fluffy blanket, and Harry had only taken notice when he turned to peck her on the cheek only to end up with half his face covered in peanut butter frosting (his girlfriend––and he really can’t stress enough how happy the title makes him––thought it was absolutely hilarious).

“Yeah, we’re just about finished. . .” She playfully pushes his face to the side when he gives her another pout. “Okie dokie, we’ll be out in a sec. . .see you in a bit!” The call ends with the clap of the main screen against the keypad. She gives him a toothy grin and rises to the tips of her toes to press a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth. “Let’s go?” 

***

She’s on her bed when Cici barges into her room, a tote full of clothes hanging off her shoulder that she then drops by the closet door. “Where’s your knight with shining curls?” her best friend snorts as she plops herself down on her bed. She’d texted earlier saying that she would be hiding at the Y/l/n residence to escape the arrogance of her visiting aunt’s family. 

Y/n looks up from flipping through her latest issue of Teen Vogue. “I think he should be here quarter of.” He’d left over two hours ago to help his mom and sister decorate their Christmas tree. 

“I see you got your dress,” Cici notices, reaching for the bag by her nightstand. She pulls the stapled edges apart with an approving look from Y/n, then pulls out the garment until the bag falls back to the floor. “Oh damn!” she whistles, kneeing the mattress as she holds it up. “Has Harry seen this yet?”

“I’ve literally done everything in my power to avoid that,” she mutters, falling back against her pile of pillows. The implications of not going to the dance with her boyfriend hadn’t registered with her until yesterday when Zoey had showed him the exact corsage that she wanted him to get her. Now she feels almost sick thinking about Zoey’s perfectly manicured and deadly nails racking around her boyfriend’s body while she forces him to dance. And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want Harry to see her dress just yet, she wants to surprise him the day of because the petty part of her wants to send Zoey a clear message. 

Cici snorts loudly, laying down next to her, and both girls just stare up at the ceiling. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you should just go together. So, what if a few people get butt hurt? Do you really want to see that bitch try to make moves on him?” 

“Obviously not, but. . .” she lets out a long sigh. “Jasper.” She keeps having to remind herself that she’s Jasper’s date, and it just wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to be an absent companion. “He keeps saying how excited he is for this, and I don’t know Ci. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I don’t want to go formal with him, let alone that the reason being that I want to go with my boyfriend of what? Two weeks now?” She’s given this whole lot of thought, really, she has! Sure, the easiest solution would be to call off her date with Jasper, but she doesn’t want him to think that he was only a stand in for Harry until they finally admitted their feelings. No one should be subjected to that kind of impairing thought. 

“You’re being way being too nice––maybe the pope will canonize you one day. ‘Saint Y/n’ patron saint of the criminally kind.” 

She pulls a pillow from behind and whacks the side of her friend’s head, who then whacks her back with just as much force. “Stop being so dramatic, this isn’t Gossip Girl.”

“And it’s a travesty,” Cici tuts, but her eyes start to twinkle as she loses herself in thought. “If it were, I’d be Mrs. Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald by now. Don’t you think Chace Crawford and I would make the most beautiful babies?”

“They’ll have the best eyebrows, that’s for sure.”

“Right!?”

***

Friday December 19, 2008

The last day before the winter formal––and furthermore the last day until winter break–– and it’s all the students of Ashwood can talk about. At every turn, all that can be heard is who’s attending with who or what designer their dress is from. Almost all of their classes have resorted to study halls since apparently no one can stay focused for more than five minutes at a time, which really is stupid since midterms are scheduled only two weeks after they come back. 

On the plus side, since they’re screening Home Alone 2 in Spanish, it at least distracts the rest of the class while she and Harry giggle to themselves in the back-left corner of the room. During the beginning of their relationship, they had at least tried to remain discreet so as to avoid all the theories of conspiracy from the school’s notorious gossips over at the Ashwood Almanac. As the final days of the year dwindle down, however, all precautions to keep everything on the down-low have disintegrated, and they’ve probably shared a few not-so-private (though none have ever been in front of a grand audience. . .about five people, max) smooches when they part ways after a long history lesson with Mr. Noone.  

“As in right in the nuts?” he laughs through the question, his arm wrapped around the back of her chair as his fingers tread through loose locks. She’s telling him all about how Mason had thrown a snowball, which had actually ended up having a moderately sized rock lodged in there somehow, directly between Jeremy’s legs. And yeah, he does feel bucket loads of sympathy because he can’t even count how many times he’s had a football to the groin in his years of being an athlete, but he’s more so charmed by how animated she is when she talks about her family.  

“I don’t know how he did it, but then Dad went completely cross-eyed when it hit him. Like this.” For a split second, she’s able to mimic his reaction and it has him trying to contain his amusement with her shoulder before Señora Gustavo can scold them for being too disruptive. 

After a few moments settled within a comfortable silence, enough time for them to let Jeremy’s many woes fade from consciousness, their eyes meet again, and he just smiles at her. It’s one of those sappy lovesick smiles that would have surely made her knees buckle had she not already been sitting down. 

“So, Mum’s Christmas Eve party, you’re all going, right?” he asks, his thumb grazing the side of her arm. For as long as he can remember, Anne’s been hosting this party every year without fail. He supposes it started when she and his dad were still together––maybe even before then––since he’s seen pictures from the early nineties before even Gemma was born. Even when they’d moved to the States, his mum has always been the sociable sort, so during that first year away from Holmes Chapel had been filled with the company of their neighbors and over a dozen of her colleagues. This time around, Harry’s excitement is beyond a scale’s capacity because his granddad is flying in to celebrate with them. After all their long phone calls, he’ll finally be able to introduce him to the girl he’s been gushing over for months. 

Y/n nods eagerly. “And I already know what I’m making,” she says. There were a few options that she toyed with before falling asleep until ultimately deciding on one special dessert that she sure hopes will be a crowd pleaser come the 24th. It’s something that in theory she knows how to make, but it’ll require a few test runs and backups since she’s aiming for nothing less than perfection. “Your mom mentioned it during Thanksgiving, so I really hope she’ll like it!”

“Don’t want you going through too much trouble. Mum will like anything you make. Went on and on about those pumpkin spice cookies you brought around the house Sunday.” 

“I know, but. . .” Her lips curl inward and trap themselves between her teeth. She looks down into her lap, fingers messing with a stray thread where her skit had been hemmed. “I just. . .I don’t know. Do you think she’s mad––okay, not mad, but you know. . .annoyed––at me for the whole Jasper-Zoey thing? You keep saying it isn’t, but it’s a hundred percent my fault that we’re not going together.”   

“Baby, no. Don’t say that,” Harry frowns, and he doesn’t realize the new endearment to have tumbled off the tip of his tongue. “This whole dance thing doesn’t mean anything anyway, and it definitely doesn’t change this.” He gestures between the two of them, a lopsided smile spread from cheek to cheek. 

Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms. “You’re being all cheesy because you want me to kiss you again.”

A loud scoff erupts from the back of his throat, and Señora Gustavo glares up from her laptop to give him another warning. There’s a moment when his face impersonates annoyance (but his arm still remains around her frame), and he begrudgingly turns his attention to Kevin McCallister wreaking havoc on his two unmatched foes. She does the same, but from the corner of her eye she sees the way his mouth plays with his words. In her head, she counts backwards from five, holding in a smirk as the numbers dwindle down. Harry pouts to himself, before he turns back to her. 

“Are my chances high, at least?”  

***

Saturday December 20, 2008 

“Sweetheart, you look so beautiful!” Liv gushes as she brushes Y/n’s hair back, standing behind her in front of the vanity’s mirror. Y/n looks at herself carefully, her lips pulled up but pressed firmly together. The day has finally arrived, and she doesn’t think she can feel any more anxious than she does right now. Half her hair is pulled back while the rest is curled into the soft waves that fall just beneath her shoulders. Her dress is hung to the side, the sequins almost blinding as they reflect in the bathroom light. 

They’d spent the last two hours doing her hair and makeup, which Liv had insisted she do herself since aside from dentistry and orthodontics, is probably her second passion in life. There’s a story she always likes to tell, about how she’d worked for a beauty salon during college for some extra cash but had ended up staying all four years because she found the whole transformation process to be exciting for both herself and her clients.

“I remember my first high school dance,” her mom continues, and she takes the dress off the hanger and signals for Y/n to stand up. “Now, my dress wasn’t nearly as form-fitting as yours. I mean, what do you expect from the 80s?” She chuckles lightly, shaking her head as she remembers exactly what she wore in her freshman year. Y/n braces herself against the wall as she steps into the pooled dress. “Philip Russo had asked me, and boy oh boy, was he something.”

Y/n snorts as she holds the lace fabric to her chest. “Does Dad know you still think about your high school boyfriend?”

Liv rolls her eyes, zipping the back up with one firm pull. “Oh of course, I talk about him every night before bed. You know what, honey? If I hadn’t met you, I would probably be living in Austin with Philip Russo and our seven kids. It makes for great pillow talk.”

“Did someone call me?” Jeremy’s voice calls from the master bedroom. Followed by his much shorter shadow, he saunters into the bathroom. 

Mason scampers past his dad and wraps his arms around his sister’s legs. “You look like a princess!” he giggles, picking at one of the beads. 

“You really think so, Mase?” she smiles, cupping his cheeks in her hand so he can look up at her. 

The little boy nods furiously. “Yeah! And that means Harry’s your prince, right? Because the prince and princess always kiss each other, right? You and Harry kissed yesterday! I saw it!” He even looks to Liv for support. “Right, Mommy?”

Y/n digs her nails into her palms. The three of them had agreed to keep Mason upstairs when Jasper picks her up just to avoid all awkwardness if her brother wonders where Harry might be. That’s not to say that her parents are completely on board with the idea of this bizarre arrangement. Jeremy had been quite vocally against it because he much rather send his daughter off with a boy he’s come to know and like, rather than. . .well, he’s never met this other boy, so that’s already a red flag in his book. 

“Now what I want to know is why you were snooping on your sister and Harry, huh?” she counters, hands on her hips and toe tapping with parental flare. 

“Because Daddy said I have to keep an eye on them when he’s not home.”

Jeremy’s jaw just drops. “You little traitor,” he grumbles, glaring down at his son. “I told you not to tell the girls about our little secret.”

“Secret secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone!”

“Enough out of you.” Jeremy lifts the boy up and places him over his shoulder. It’s now that he’s able to get a good look at his daughter, his not so little girl. Y/n notices a glisten in his eyes the longer he studies her.

“Dad,” she whines, “remember you said you wouldn’t be dramatic?” 

“I know, I know, but. . .” He twirls her around, a couple times before taking in her full image once more. “First, it's just a school dance, then it’s your wedding day. Jesus Christ, I’m getting old.”

***

The theme of this year’s winter formal is Winter Wonderland, and despite its cliché nature, student council and the decorations committee had managed to transform the events hall into somewhat of a festive paradise. There’s fake snow falling gracefully in the backdrop at the photographer’s station, where some of the more smitten couples strike their cutest poses as their arms wrap around the other’s figures. Dressed to the nines in their best attire, a few students are already swaying to the DJ’s soundtrack, while others mingle in groups by the punch bowl. 

Harry is somewhat part of the latter category, his one hand occupied with his untouched beverage, the other buried deep in his pocket as he stands stiffly at Zoey’s side. She’s bragging about the price tag on her dress, gushing over how her daddy bought it right from the designer himself. “And he totally gave me his number and said I could stop by the New York office any time.”

“Bunch of bollocks,” Harry snorts into his cup, the fruity red liquid just barely grazing his top lip. 

Zoey turns around, a sickeningly sweet and glossy smile greeting him. “What was that?” she asks, far too perky in her mannerisms, in his opinion.   

“Nothing.” He takes a long sip for no other reason than to keep himself distracted. It works for a few more minutes, with him only participating in their conversation when he’s directly addressed, or if Zoey wants another damn refill of water. 

Now, he isn’t quite sure what had possessed him to ask Zoey, of all the girls he could have chosen, to the dance. It was right after Y/n had told him she’d be going with Jasper, and he’d gone outside to clear his head. Who was the first (okay, second, but Señora Gustavo does not count) person he’d run into? The decision had been made in a split second, and for fuck’s sake his biggest regret is not taking a few more to think about it. 

“Harry!” He turns on his heel at the call of his name, the first genuine smile of the night cheering up his downcast features when he sees Cici and Maxxie arrive through the doors. Excusing himself, he all but runs to them, enveloping both in a hug that’s filled with every bit of relief. 

“Oh, thank god,” he sighs. “She’s driving me up the walls.” 

Cici looks over his shoulder, brow raised as she glares at the redhead. “Are those next season’s Christian Louboutin’s? Unbelievable!”

“Jealousy is not a good look on you,” Maxxie teases, poking her side. “I’m not jealous. Just annoyed that the nasty ones always get first serve. And it’s honestly super annoying that she looks kind of good.”

“She’s beautiful. . .” Harry says suddenly, and both Maxxie and Cici gasp at his confession. The latter smacks his chest, and steam practically flares from her nostrils because she’s always had that protective instinct. Maxxie is more sensible, however, and he follows the line of Harry’s gaze right the source. It’s then he takes it upon himself to turn their friend around.

“What are you–”

It’s a scene right out of a movie as Y/n steps through the door, gently shielding her eyes as one of the moving spotlights casts down on her. Her dress reflects a light just as strong, and it manages to catch the attention of a majority of those around. She searches for something, fingers fiddling at her front as she looks unsurely through the room. It’s when she sees the three of them that she smiles widely. 

“Guys!” she waves to them, lifting the skirt of her dress as she jogs over. “Oh my gosh, Ci! You look amazing!” she squeals, hugging her friend. 

“I know.” Cici has never been one to maintain modesty, but it’s one of the reasons why Y/n loves her. “But look at you! Oh my god, you look like Hilary Duff.”

“That seems to be the consensus apparently,” she blushes. She gives Maxxie a kiss on the cheek, giggling when he whispers something in her ear. It earns him a pinch to his side, and he playfully huffs as he directs himself and Cici to one of the empty tables. 

It just leaves her and Harry. 

He has to resist the urge to reach out.

“You look. . .wow,” he’s at a loss for words. 

Her eyes fall to their feet. “Still trying to get that kiss, I see.” And maybe she wishes she didn’t have to pretend like she doesn’t want to. It happens so quickly that she would’ve missed it she wasn’t paying any attention. His lips press against hers in a kiss. . .or maybe more appropriately a peck. But as her eyes flutter open, she’s met with a cheeky smile to top off an expression that constantly reminds her how in love she is with the boy in front of her. 

***

She thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to see Zoey hang off her boyfriend like some pathetic sloth until right at this very moment. And she knows she shouldn’t let it all get to her because Harry had assured her over a dozen times over the phone that she’d be the only person he’ll be paying any attention to, but she really can’t help but feel mildly insecure. She hasn’t even had the chance to tell him how handsome he looks because Zoey had abruptly whisked him away as soon as Mariah Carey had started playing through the speakers. Take that, and the fact that Jasper had finally found his way to her after he’d talked to a few friends by the entrance. 

The car ride here had been a bit awkward, if she’s being honest. Jeremy hadn’t been so successful in keeping Mason upstairs, and the little boy had even been the one to open the door because he had been anticipating a completely different face. “You’re not–” Luckily, Liv had been there to cover his mouth before he could say anything more. “Kids! Am I right?” And after a few quick snaps from her mom’s camera, they were off in his dad’s SUV, both sat in the back seat with the middle completely empty. There was some small talk, mostly questions of ‘are you excited’ or ‘hopefully the food is good’ and whatnot. She had tried her best, she really had, to keep things light and non bothersome, but she can sense that he knows something’s up.

“Hey,” she touches Jasper’s arm. “I’m just gonna go to the ladies’ room.” 

***

When she walks out of the bathroom, she feels herself being whisked to the side. Before she can let out a yelp, she catches a whiff of his familiar scent, and it’s enough to soothe her panic. 

“Are you crazy?” she giggles, looking down at the other end of the hall. “We’re supposed to be in there.” 

Harry shrugs nonchalantly before leaning his forehead against hers. “Just a little.”

“Thank god we got that settled then.” She lets her hands fall into his hair, loving the way his soft brown curls feel in the slope between her fingers. For the first time tonight, she feels completely at ease as their bodies sway gently to the echo of a song. “Hi,” she whispers.

It’s then he gives her a proper embrace, holding her as close to him as he can, letting everything around them fade into the back of his mind.

“Hi.” He buries his nose into her hair. “I’m sorry this is how we have to share our first dance.” 

He then pulls away just enough to look into her eyes, his heart swelling when she cups his face and presses a long kiss to his lips. The hold he has around her waist tightens as he deepens it further. 

“It’s okay,” she answers when she breaks free in need of air. She giggles as she swipes his mouth of any traces of her lip gloss. “I’m actually surprised you were able to get away from your date.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry lets out a humorless snort that she happens to find greatly entertaining. “It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. I had to make up some excuse about how my stomach was feeling all out of sorts when I saw you walk out. Figured it was the perfect opportunity to get my girl alone. Plus. . .” He directs her gaze above, and she can’t help but laugh when she sees a mistletoe hung above them. Without missing a beat, his lips find their way back to hers.

***

Come talk to me about our babies!

[kmalexander]

My Reading List for 2020

It’s no secret 2020 has been a challenging year. While upon reflection, I found it to be surprisingly full, like many of us, I still spent the majority of my time at home. One benefit of our new socially-distant stay-at-home culture was the amount of reading I managed to accomplish. Just like previous years, I’ve compiled a list of the books I’ve read over the last three hundred and sixty-six days, and as always, I want to share them with everyone.

This year was hit-or-miss for me reading-wise. There were books I loved and many books I ended up loathing. I found books I know I will re-read and proselytize, but they were often mirrored by other books I hate-read. I also found myself reading a few histories for pleasure, not something I normally do, and I dipped into science fiction much more than in previous years. Audiobooks (

) used to be the mainstay of my daily commute, and this year they became the soundtrack to housework. Not a bad tradeoff. Oh, and as always, I beta-read a couple of great books, and I’m excited to see where those go in the future.

This list correlates with my Goodreads 2020 Reading Challenge, but it always includes a few extra since Goodreads doesn’t let me count beta reading, and I don’t list comics or short stories or poetry (new this year!) over there. Remember, this is all strictly reading for pleasure—I typically forgo listing any research/history books I’ve read for a project as I read those differently than I do fiction. This list is always enormous, so l skip reviews except for my favorites in each category. However, I’d invite you to follow me on Goodreads, where I occasionally leave other reviews.

New for this year: with a few exceptions, most links now go to IndieBound instead of Amazon—2020 has been rough on small businesses, and now more than ever, be sure to support your local bookstore. When possible, I am now linking to each author’s personal website—if you’re on the list and I didn’t find your website, please let me know about it. (I won’t link to social media, sorry.)

Novels & Novellas

Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1) by Rebecca Roanhorse

Gideon the Ninth (The Locked Tomb #1) by Tamsyn Muir

City of Bones (The Mortal Instruments #1) by Cassandra Clare

Prosper’s Demon by K.J. Parker

The Crimson Campaign (The Powder Mage Trilogy #2)

by Brian McClellan

Jade War (Green Bone Saga #2) by Fonda Lee

Artificial Condition (The Murderbot Diaries #2) by Martha Wells

Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland

by Patrick Radden Keefe

The Field of Blood: Violence in Congress and the Road to Civil War

by Joanne B. Freeman

They Mostly Come Out at Night (Yarnsworld, #1) (Link goes to Amazon) by Benedict Patrick

Frank on a Gun-Boat by Harry Castlemon

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay

On Basilisk Station (Honor Harrington, #1) by David Weber

The Reign of the Kingfisher

by T.J. Martinson

RADIO by J. Rushing

Neuromancer (Sprawl, #1) by William Gibson

The Fireman

by Joe Hill

The Cipher by Kathe Koja

The Mist by Stephen King

Control Point (Shadow Ops #1) by Myke Cole

Blood Standard (Isaiah Coleridge #1) by Laird Barron

City of Miracles (The Divine Cities #3) by Robert Jackson Bennett

The Iron Ship (The Gates of the World #1) by K.M. McKinley

Vita Nostra (Metamorphosis Cycle #1)

by Sergey & Marina Dyachenko

Thieftaker (The Thieftaker Chronicles #1) by D. B. Jackson

BETA READING (Literature) by REDACTED

Circe by Madeline Miller

Terrier (The Legend of Beka Cooper #1) by Tamora Pierce

Red Storm Rising 

…. again. by Tom Clancy

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Clutter: An Untidy History by Jennifer Howard

The Half Killed by Quenby Olson

The Toll by Cherie Priest

Jurassic Park …again. by Michael Crichton

Seveneves  

by Neil Stephenson

Night of the Mannequins by Stephen Graham Jones

In the Valley of the Sun by Andy Davidson

Foundation (Foundation #1) by Issac Asimov

Consider Phlebas (Culture #1)

by Iain M. Banks

BETA READING (Historical Horror) by REDACTED

The Worm and His Kings by Hailey Piper

Wake of Vultures by Lila Bowen

Metro 2033

by Dmitry Glukhovsky

Favorite Novel of 2020

In the Valley of the Sun

by Andy Davidson

This sun-baked vampire horror set in Texas unexpectedly became a new favorite. A surprisingly tense, character-focused narrative. Brutal. Anguished. Tormented. Bloody. Lyrical in ways that remind me of Cormac McCarthy without the weight. It’s not shy of confronting the cracked ugliness of humanity and finding the beauty between the fissures. Davidson is an incredible writer, and I immediately purchased his more recent novel after finishing In the Valley of the Sun. We need more horror like this.

Favorite Novel Runners-up of 2020

RADIO

by J. Rushing

A jazz-infused, opium-soaked, historical fantasy that explodes from the opening chapter and never relents until its final pages. A thoroughly fresh debut that’s unlike anything I’ve read before. Rushing brings his unique, well-researched world of 1920s Paris to life with a captivating voice. Don’t expect a saccharine overly-romantic version of Paris; this is a stained, broken, and bloody place—a welcome addition to modern fantasy literature. Jim’s a friend of mine, so be sure to read my interview with him.

City of Miracles

by Robert Jackson Bennett

In recent years, the Divine Cities have become one of my favorite urban fantasy series, mostly for its fresh approach to the genre, atypical characters, and serious exploration of themes oft-ignored within mainstream fantasy. With City of Miracles, Bennett wrapped up the trilogy with a heartbreaking yet thoroughly satisfying ending. This story is a bit tighter and more focused than the previous two while wrapping up various loose ends rather nicely. It’s rare to find a final book in a series that resonates with me as much as City of Miracles did—it’s easily my favorite book in the trilogy.

 Honorable Mentions of 2020

I started doing Honorable Mentions in 2018 so I could highlight some of the other standout novels from my year of reading. Below you’ll find many more excellent books, I’ve listed them in order of reading.

Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse A unique southwestern approach to post-apocalyptic urban fantasy.

Prosper’s Demon by K. J. Parker A subversive fantasy with a fresh voice and plenty of twists. Nice quick read.

The Crimson Campaign by Brian McClellan An excellent sequel, one of the best examples of massive and complex military operations in fantasy.

The Field of Blood by Joanne B. Freeman Phenomenal nonfiction detailing the history of violence in Congress leading up to the U.S. Civil War.

The Cipher by Kathe Koja Deeply unsettling transgressive horror that felt far too familiar. Visceral and enthralling.

Blood Standard by Laird Barron A dark crime/P.I. novel with a heart and a sense of humor. I will be reading more in this series.

The Iron Ship by K.M. McKinley Thoroughly fresh fantasy—huge world, great characters, interesting plot, unique setting. Nearly made my runner up list.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones Disturbing modern horror built around the experiences of first-nation people and the rural poor.

Clutter: An Untidy History by Jennifer Howard The history of stuff told from an all-too-relatable personal experience. Ended up buying a few copies for my family.

Seveneves by Neil Stephenson The moon is destroyed, and humanity only has a short amount of time to survive.

The Worm and His Kings by Hailey Piper Unique cosmic horror that explores gender identity, relationships, and poverty with a fresh perspective.

Short Stories

An Inhabitant of Carcosa …again. by Ambrose Bierce

And Now His Lordship is Laughing by Shiv Ramdas

How the Trick is Done by A.C. Wise

The Yellow Sign …again. by Robert W. Chambers

Ten Excerpts from an Annotated Bibliography on the Cannibal Women of Ratnabar Island by Nibedita Sen

Give the Family My Love by A. T. Greenblatt

The Dead, In Their Uncontrollable Power by Karen Osborne

The Masque of the Red Death …again. by Edgar Allen Poe

The Repairer of Reputations …again. by Robert W. Chambers

Paper Menagerie by Ken Liu

Seasons of Glass and Iron by Amal El-Mohtar

Tideline by Elizabeth Bear

Favorite Short Stories of 2020

The Dead, In Their Uncontrollable Power

by Karen Osborne

Generation ship! Class struggle! Religious ritual! Rebellion! Murder! Control! The complexity told within this genre-mashup was astounding. Such a rich world crafted in a way that feels effortless while maintaining a rich narrative was impressive. It’s no secret I’m drawn to stories that are hard to pigeon-hole into a specific genre, and that is fully represented here. Well worth a read.

 Favorite Short Story Runners-up

Paper Menagerie

by Ken Liu

This heartbreaking story about magical origami, cultural identity, and family was the first piece of fiction to win a Hugo, a Nebula, and a World Fantasy Award. And after reading it, it was easy to see why. Touching and reflective. A masterwork of speculative short fiction.

 Graphic Novels

Preacher: Book One by Garth Ennis (Author) & Steve Dillon (Artist)

Saga, Vol. 8 by Brian K. Vaughan (Author) & Fiona Staples (Artist)

Preacher: Book Two by Garth Ennis (Author) & Steve Dillon (Artist)

Once & Future, Vol. 1 by Kieron Gillen (Author), Tamra Bonvillain (Artist), & Dan Mora (Artist)

American Vampire, Vol. 2 by Scott Snyder (Author) & Rafael Albuquerque (Artist)

Paper Girls, Vol. 2 by Brian K. Vaughan (Author), Cliff Chiang (Artist)

Preacher: Book Three by Garth Ennis (Author) & Steve Dillon (Artist)

Die, Vol. 2 by Kieron Gillen (Author) & Stephanie Hans (Artist)

 Favorite Graphic Novel of 2020:

Preacher: Book One

by Garth Ennis (Author) & Steve Dillon (Artist)

I didn’t expect to like Preacher. I bounced off the series hard when I was younger, writing off Ennis as a “blasphemous shock jock” and nothing more. But revisiting it as a middle-aged adult revealed a different sort of comic. The offensive transgressive material is still there, but beneath it is something much more—a book with more heart and humanity than one would be able to judge by its surface and laced with merciless satire that still rings relevant twenty-five years later.

 Favorite Graphic Novel Runner-up of 2020:

Paper Girls, Volume 2

by Brian K. Vaughan (Author), Cliff Chiang (Artist)

Volume 1 nearly made my runner-up list last year. On the surface, it’s a time-jumping story about a group of friends caught in the middle of a future war. But beneath those sci-fi trappings, there is so much more here. It’s a book about being a kid and the expectations therein, complications with friendship, and the complexities of growing up. The characters are fantastic, and the story moves along at a clip, making it impossible to put the trade down. I’m ready for volume 3.

 Poems

So this year, I’m including some of the poems I read in 2020. I hinted at doing this last year. But this is really a trial run. In reality, I read more poems than listed below, but I didn’t do an outstanding job keeping track of them. Because this is the first time for poetry on this list, I’m going to skip picking a favorite. Hopefully, I’ll be back on track next year.

Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris

The Peace of Wild Things by Wendel Berry

Beneath the Sweater and the Skin by Jeannette Encinias

The Woods by Melanie Batista

I Confess by Alison Luterman

The Waste Land …again. by T. S. Eliot

Near a Raven by Mike Keith

Insha’Allah by Danusha Laméris

We Lived Happily During the War …again. by Ilya Kaminsky

Christmas Greetings to Felis …again by H. P. Lovecraft …again.

Passing Solstice by Ken Hada

Winter Solstice by Hilda Morley

Childhood Memory from the Old Victorian House on Warner by Beth Cato

Raw With Love by Charles Bukowski

So that’s my reading list for 2020. It’s been an interesting year in reading for me. As promised, we now have a poetry section, and I hope to expand that in the future. There are some great poems there, so be sure to explore them further. Despite my ups and downs, I’m overall quite happy with the books, stories, graphic novels, and poetry I read over the last twelve months. They were excellent distractions from the chaos of the year, and it was refreshing to lose myself in other worlds. 2020 will be behind us soon, and I am looking forward to the worlds I’ll discover in 2021.

How about you? What were the standout books, graphic novels, short stories, or poems you read this year? I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment and let me know!

Are you looking for a good book? Want to see my reading lists from previous years? Check any of the links below and see what I was reading in the bygone days of old.

• 2013 • 2014 • 2015 • 2016 • 2017 • 2018 • 2019 •

Next year, why not join me? Goodreads does a reading challenge every year, and I am an active participant. First, follow me on Goodreads (leave me a review while you’re there), and once the New Year arrives, participate in the Goodreads Reading Challenge for 2020.

Want to stay in touch with me? Sign up for Dead Drop, my rare and elusive newsletter. Subscribers get news, previews, and notices on my books before anyone else delivered directly to their inbox. I work hard to make sure it’s not spammy and full of interesting and relevant information.  SIGN UP TODAY →

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[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 111

Chapter Summary - As Tom readies for Hamlet, he makes plans with Danielle for after it, the only issue is, his idea meets a minor roadblock when Danielle reminds him he did similar, just a year ago, with someone else.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle hummed to herself as she pulled the clothes from the washing machine. Tom was in the kitchen doing the dishes and between them, they had pretty much everything in the house done by the afternoon. Their busy schedules had meant that both of them had been slacking on the house chores, with all their spare time being set aside for looking after Mac when neither of them were working, the had become somewhat behind on them. As they worked, Mac went between the pair, as though he was supervising them.

‘ Elle?’ Tom walked into the kitchen. ‘I need to talk to you about the tickets.’

‘What ones?’

‘Hamlet.’

‘You mean how they're going by raffle?’

‘Yeah, how did you know about that?’

‘Because I have my phone set to alert me of anything to do with it? But also because, as I said, Amelia is a big fan of yours and she made mention that she is put herself into the raffle.’

‘I should have thought of that actually,’ Tom stated. ‘It means that I can't get you a ticket.’

‘I know, I put myself into the raffle, I might be lucky. Considering how everything is going for me recently I'm probably going to get about forty tickets.’ she laughed.

Tom found himself chuckling as well, ‘You very well could. Speaking of your good fortune, didn't you mention you were changing car?’

‘Yeah, I was going to go at the weekend and take a look at a few, why?’

‘Just asking, to be honest, I was hoping I could come along.’

‘Aren’t you busy though, with the play and everything?’

‘I have to learn my lines, but there's no costume for this one, so no fittings, just learning. Then next week, we’re starting to work in bringing it all together.’

‘Are you excited?’

‘I am actually, it's sort of seen as a rite of passage, doing Hamlet.’

‘If you put half the effort into that as you did into Coriolanus, it will be incredible.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘I don't know how you do it.’

‘What, learn the lines?’

‘Well that too, but the confidence, the way you carry yourself on stage, you don't need me to tell you, and I know I'm not exactly the most qualified person to say, but I think it's absolutely amazing how you do it.’

Tom gave her an almost confused look, ‘What do you mean you're not exactly the most qualified person, no one is the most qualified person, a person with a degree, a masters, and a PhD in Shakespearean literature may understand the work more than most, but it does not make them more qualified than any other person as to what an individual likes and dislikes. And if I'm perfectly honest, your opinion matters a lot more to me than most every critic that will write up about this. You and my family mean the most to me ergo your opinions mean the most to me. One thing about you, mum, Emma and Sarah that on occasion has driven me insane but also I adore more than anything else is your brutal honesty. I am my greatest critic, you guys genuinely give me your opinions because you know I want the truth and because you want to see me get better at my job.’

‘Now I'm worried, I feel like I need to criticise you.’ Danielle joked sticking her tongue out between her teeth. ‘Or does that throw me into the cliche of the nagging partner?’

‘I don't think you to be nagging.’

‘So what is my worst issue, or should I ask?’

‘Duvet stealing, I have never suffered a case of duvet sausage rolling quite like you before, please note I went to a boarding school.’

‘I will not apologise for enjoying comfort in bed.’ Danielle’s eyes shifted side to side as she responded.

Tom chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her, ‘I wouldn't expect you to.’ He kissed her for a moment before he pulled back his eyes bright with an idea. ‘What would you say, when after the Hamlet run is done and before the Early Man and Ragnarok promotions start, you and I go away for a few days?’

‘ Where are you thinking, Suffolk, your dad's, Ireland?’

‘ No, I think we deserve a little further afield this time.’

‘How far are we speaking?’

Tom paused for a moment to think about it, ‘Somewhere in Europe maybe, is there any way you actually want to go?’

‘Well, the usual places, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Barcelona...Could you imagine people's faces of the two of us turned up in Rome? How many comparisons do you think would be made?’ She found herself giggling at the thought. Tom, on the other hand, looked somewhat bemused. ‘What, it's true, they would.’

‘The only reason we went there was because she was having business discussions regarding releases of albums and dates of which they were being released with a few friends of hers including Ed Sheeran, that's how I heard his music that time before it came out.’

‘Tom, how many times do I have to tell you I don't want to know. You don't have to explain it to me, I honestly don't want to know.’

‘You're upset by this?’ Tom realised, noting the change of her tone and her manner as she walked away from him. He followed immediately after her. ‘Elle?’

‘Well, you hardly expect me to be thrilled that one of the places I've always wanted to see as soon as I go there, if I were to go there with you, people would immediately reference the whole situation with her and like every other person I don't want to be laughed at, Tom. There is no one I would rather see Rome with but to me, it’s lost a bit of its appeal now.’ She shrugged and gave him an apologetic face before she left the room.

Tom paused and thought about what she said, it was true, if they did go to Rome, people would immediately correlate it with his time there with Taylor. How in the world was Danielle supposed to enjoy the trip if all the people would be speaking about would be the like this of it to the time he went there before. Sighing to himself and putting his hands behind his head, he thought about it for a moment more before following Danielle back into the main part of the house and looking for her. Hearing the sound of her moving about upstairs he quickly made his way up taking the stairs two steps at a time. When he arrived up, he made his way to their bedroom and stood in the doorway watching Danielle folding different laundry and placing it on the bed to be organised in the correct part of the room. ‘I'm sorry, I have taken that from us haven't I?’

‘There wasn't an “us” then to take it from though, was there? You didn't cheat on me by bringing her there or her bringing you there, whatever way it was, so there's no need to apologise.’

‘But it hurts?’

‘Yes, as childish as it seems, in some ways, it does hurt.’

‘Then, for that, I apologize, because as it stands, that hurts you and that is a result of my actions.’

‘We could spend today arguing about this but I don't want to. if you feel an unrelenting need to apologise then fine but I think it's a waste of time, I don't think you have something to apologize for.’ she stated as she put his dark blue v neck jumper down on the bed folded. ‘I do think it would be lovely for us to go away.’

‘But Rome is out?’

‘For now I think it's best, I am going to get there and I do think it will be with you, but I don't think I could handle the comments that would arise as a result right now, how I am gullible to let you bring me there and how you're a slimy bastard for bringing two girls there, a year apart. Is there anywhere you would want to go?’

‘I will bring you to Rome,’ Tom promised. ‘When the time is right, I am taking you there. But for now, perhaps Paris would be nice. What can they say about that?’

Danielle laughed, ‘I don't think you are setting them much of a challenge for that one, I think we could actually start a pool before we even go with our friends. I would bet that the highest likely to occur comments will be; didn't you admit to bringing a girlfriend there before or was that you surprised her there before when you were younger, and the other like you want, would more than likely include you brought me there to ask me to marry you, in which case, we will probably be on “bump watch”.’

‘I know I'm going to regret this but what the hell is “bump watch”?’

‘Well considering the amount of time we are together, and the fact that you and Ben are somewhat similar, and how he would never be seen to have had Kit outside of marriage with Sophie, people are going to assume that you brought me there to propose to me and the reason for which is more than likely because I would be pregnant.’

‘Are you sure you're not reading too much into this?’

‘Tom I don't know if Luke is telling you this, but every other day people are trying to figure out whether or not I am pregnant there is a Tumblr page and all to this. Because for some reason, the fact that I do not wear tight-fitting clothing, and the fact that I am not a stick figure, people are assuming that I am pregnant.’

‘Wait, what, since when?’

‘Since it came out that we’re together, honestly Tom, I know you don't pay attention to these things, but at one stage, there were some out there, including trash papers, accusing you of having both myself and Swift pregnant. To some people, you're just a baby making machine,’ Danielle laughed, enjoying the perturbed look on Tom’s face search comments. ‘But enough silliness, Paris sounds like an incredible idea, when are we going?’

Shaking his head slightly to cease focusing on the preposterous, Tom gave her a wolfish grin. ‘You sorted Ireland, I'm sorting this.’

‘I'm not going to lie, that statement worries me.’

‘Are you saying you don't trust me?’

‘I'm saying I don't trust you to stay within a reasonable budget.’

‘Holidays shouldn't have budgets, not for too hard-working individuals like ourselves who deserve it.’

‘And that has left me even more scared.’ Danielle shuddered to think what it was that Tom was planning.

Tom's grin grew even more, ‘Really?’ He skulked forward towards her.

‘Tom no, I have literally just folded...Tom!’ Playfully, Tom tackled her onto the bed and in turn, onto the fresh washing. ‘The laundry.’

‘That can be refolded,’ Tom dismissed, using his strong arms to cage around her, he leant down and kiss her for a moment, ‘Actually, I think you may need to fold more than just the clothes when I'm finished with you.’ He grinned as he kissed her again, this time one of his hands making the way up the hem of her shirt, hers going through his hair.

[dreams-got-dimmer]

The Roommate (Eric Coulter AU)

PROMPT: Dauntless makes a sudden change to there initiation housing thinking it would be better for the initiates to be paired with an actual member of dauntless in hopes that it will decrease the amount of fowl play and increase rankings that are actually well deserved.

It just so happens that the first year that this new housing is in place, is the year that Isabella is transferring from candor with her best friend John in tow who has also brought along the embarrassing nickname of calling her bean or beans.

It’s not a question to if she’ll survive initiation, but will she survive living with Eric?

In this AU Isabella will be 18 while Eric and others like Four are 22

Word Count: 1,382

Warnings: none

Note: Hey all! this is my first time ever writing a fan fiction let alone a story. If you would like me to continue with this please let me know!!! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of this AU. And again if you want me to continue please show me some love or let me know what I can improve upon. (: enjoy

Chapter 1

Everything had been easy so far. My choice to transfer. The blood from my cut dripping over the coals of dauntless. Ignoring my parents surprised yelps and cries at my choice. Even the act of getting on the train and plummeting down to the net hadn’t been all that challenging either. I’m not sure whether it was because I was mentally prepared for this day or the fact that my best friend, John was along for the same ride that made it so easy.

Everyone had jumped and we were now awaiting instruction from Four, the groups trainer throughout initiation.

John leaned over to me his lips curling into a smile, “You excited Beans?”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” I whispered to him through gritted teeth. Normally I wouldn’t really mind the nickname he had adopted for me, but now that we transferred it would just be embarrassing if anyone were to overhear him calling me it.

“I can’t just stop, I’ve practically been calling you that since birth,” he shrugged “there’s nothing you can do to stop me from saying it either,”

I huffed not necessarily happy with his answer, but in no mood to start fighting with him. I was going to continue talking, but Four finally spoke up

“Consider this your lucky day initiates. We’ve decided to give you all a fair chance at proving yourself. A lot of foul play happens outside of the actual training and to combat that it seems the most logical way is to give you personal housing,” he pauses for a moment and all the initiates start murmuring excitedly. Four looked nothing but business. He was tall and lean with short brown hair. A permanent looking frown was etched into his face. And even with the frown he was in no way intimidating. He seemed like someone who knew how to command authority and lead others, which is maybe why he is a trainer.

The idea of not having to live in communal quarters was extremely appealing. We’d be the first group to have our own living space and not have to deal with the stress that someone may stab another in another in the eye with a butter knife.

“Don’t get too excited,” Four states. “It’s not as personal as you may think, you all have been assigned a roommate that is already a member of dauntless. You have no choice in who it is and they do not either. If you are not happy with who you are rooming with then that’s too bad. Be grateful that they won’t try to kill you,” he smirks “Hopefully,” the excitement was lost in all of us after that.

A woman by the name of Lauren began handing up our room assignment papers. She claimed to be the instructor for the dauntless born initiates, and I believe it. She looked for more intimidating than Four. Tattoos ran up her built arms. She had dark raven hair and one nasty resting bitch face. No one could control that, though. So even with that face that doesn’t correlate to the personality she may actually have, but besides I didn’t plan to get to know her anyway.

I get handed my paper and I nod my thanks and she just walks off not acknowledging it at all.

“Initiation will begin tomorrow. Take this time to eat and introduce yourself to your new roommate. I’ll bring you all to the dining hall” Four says while turning around not waiting for us to start following.

As we get deeper and deeper into dauntless the chill starts to creep up my back. I don’t know why I hadn’t given much thought to how cold it may be underground. Or how much sunlight I’ll miss touching my face. Unease washes over me. Did I make the right decision? It’s like John had read my mind.

“Hey, don’t worry, you know that you belong here right? We both do,” he wraps his arm around my shoulders as we walk. Easing a bit of that chill that was in my spine. “Besides, I won’t let you fail out. Don’t be worried you’re definitely more prepared than a few others here,” he snickers a bit as I survey the crowd of trainers realizing he’s right. There were way more boys than girls and even with the gender difference a lot of them looked shorter, scrawny and scared out of their wits. Like they didn’t mean to let their blood drop over the coals at the choosing ceremony.

I smiled up at him “thanks, J. You really know how to blow up this ego,” I chuckled. He was right, though. I know I had a slight upper hand over most of them. John and I worked out quite regularly together back in Candor and we knew the basics of fighting, but other than that I was probably just as clueless as the rest. I wasn’t going to let my one strength of being strong be seen, though. I want to keep others in the dark deciding on wearing baggier clothes until I really had to show my strength. I stood around 5’2” or 5’3”, but I was a lot stronger than anyone would imagine for how short I was. You could see it on my body with the thick thighs, defined arms and wide lats.

John didn’t say anything back to me as we finally made it to the dining hall. Every faction could eat together like this, but honestly, I would much rather eat in my own room. Knowing that I would be able to do that soon enough was a relief because you would be lying to yourself if you thought this D hall food was amazing.

After John and I grabbed your food it was surprising because all the initiates ended up sitting together. Maybe because it was all we knew so far. I don’t think any of us would dare trying to sit with Four or Lauren even though they most likely wouldn’t bite our head off for it.

A boy with short black hair spoke up “So, who did everyone get for their roommates?” There was curiosity in his eyes and the blue shirt he was wearing told me he was from Erudite. Everyone started going around the table saying their roommates. The names didn’t really mean anything to me because I didn’t know a single person here. It was getting close to me so finally decided to take a peek at my paper. Eric Coulter room 225 was typed on the paper showing the location within the compound and his number and email. There was no other information, but I knew he was a leader to Dauntless and that was it.

The boy with the black hair cleared his throat at me expectantly. I threw a displeased look at him annoyed with his urgency, but I answered anyway “uhh.. Eric Coulter,” I shrugged as I folded up the paper. Everyone went silent around me stopping their eating and side chatter to look up at me. “What?” I asked confused. Even John was gaping at me. I glared at him frustrated that I was apparently so out of the loop. “You know he’s the leader, right?” John narrowed his eyes at lack of fear. “Yeah, and?” I bark at him, “What’s the problem?” I look at him while everyone else looks at me. “The problem is he’s the biggest dickhead in this compound. He chews you up and spits you out,” John had a concerned look on his face for me, “there are so many stories of him almost killing the initiates, most of them being him hanging them over the chasm...” He trails off. I huff frustrated they he didn’t think I could handle myself with the so called ‘biggest dickhead in the compound’. Apparently, no one else thought I could handle him either and honestly I was up for the challenge.

“Well fuck it. I don’t give a shit if he’s the biggest dickhead here. I can handle it,” I stand up suddenly, “You know what, I’m gonna go find him now,” I stormed off mentally preparing myself to try and make it through this labyrinth that is Dauntless.

[keeganbooks]

KNOWING YOUR BIBLE

The purpose of this blog is to help the reader learn to study and understand the Bible. Most readers recognize similar ideas that transverse through the many blogs that have been written. From the author’s prospective, there are certain ideas and concepts in the Bible that are very important for each reader to realize and comprehend. Since there are new readers who are not familiar with this blog, those ideas and concepts are frequently repeated to help in learning to study and understand the Bible.

The focus of this blog will be in the word FAITH. Faith has been described in Webster’s dictionary as “having unquestionable belief that does not need proof or evidence.” Hebrews, chapter 11, verse 1 says: "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” At first, the reader may find some Bible passages hard to understand and/or believe. But as time is spent in reading the Bible and the knowledge of the Bible grows, the reader will find that believing what is being read is true and trustworthy.

Acquiring faith in God and in His Holy Word to each of us is a process that takes time and commitment. Reading the Bible consistently will teach us how God thinks and how God wants us to think and act. The more that is learned about God, the stronger the faith in God and in the Bible becomes. 

Some might have heard the phrase, “That person has a strong Christian Faith.” In Ephesians, chapter 6, verse 10. Paul writes: “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power.”  As faith becomes stronger, the more one will want to learn about God and draw near and close to him as written in James, chapter 4, verse 8: “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.”

One way faith can increase is having something happen that has been prayed for and read in the Bible. Reading one of God’s promises and then, having the promise fulfilled, will increase faith by bringing the realization of what God says in the Bible is actually so, that God’s Word is as written in Hebrew’s, chapter  4, verse 12, which says: “Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” The more one understands God’s ways and realizes that God does respond and answer prayers, the stronger the faith in God and the Bible become. Increased faith is progressive in nature, for the stronger faith is, the more one will want his or her faith to become stronger, and it may be said about that person, ”This person has a strong Christian faith.”

Go to the website above left to review previous blogs that will help the reader grow in faith in God and God’s Holy Word. Blogs written 24-26 sessions ago with the first one starting with the words “Happy New Year,” will give important information in helping the reader learn to study and understand the Bible. 

Verses written below will correlate with the topic FAITH. Because of space limitations some verses on faith will be listed to be searched for in the Bible to read. All verses are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. (NRS)                                                                                     MAY GOD BLESS YOUR BIBLE STUDY THIS WEEK!                        BIBLE VERSES: Hebrews, chapter 11, verse 6: “And without faith it is impossible to please God, for whoever would approach him must believe he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.”     Lamentations, chapter 4, verses 22-24: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning, great is your faithfulness. The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”       Psalm, chapter 33, verses 20-22: “Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and shield. Our heart is glad in him because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.”        Matthew, chapter 7, verses 7-8, Jesus says: “Ask and it will be given to you; search and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.  Matthew, chapter 17, verse 20, Jesus says: “Because of your little faith. for truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”         Matthew, chapter 21: 21, Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea, it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive.”      Mark, chapter 4, verse  34, Jesus said: “.....your faith has made you well, go in peace and be healed of your disease.”   James, chapter 1, verse 6: “But ask in faith, never doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind.” Verses to search for and read: John, chapter 3, verse 16. Roman’s chapter 10, verses 8- 9. The “Faith” chapter, Hebrews, chapter 11, verses 1-40. Acts, chapter 24, verses 14-16.

[thelightningawardsofficial]

Review | Weapon or Game: The Comeback

Judged by Amy (daedaliaaan)

Category: I'm Not A Mary Sue

[ Author: JanaTale ]

Title (2/5): The title of your book is rather simple, but I fail to see its correlation with the plot. Especially since the summary doesn't exactly give both direct or indirect clues regarding the plot relates to a 'Weapon'. I also fail to see what part of the story refers to 'The Comeback', considering that this is the first book where the whole plot is being introduced from this point. When I first stumbled upon your book, 'The Comeback' gave me the idea that there has been a great story previous to this book and this is a continuation of sorts. This initial confusion leads me to suggest that naming a book 'The Comeback' might me bore suitable for a sequel rather than the first of a trilogy.

Summary (5/10): First, I will assess your use of language within the summary. There are noticeable mistakes in punctuation, especially in the use of commas. You have the habit of adding commas before the word 'and' in sentences that are not listing objects or have the need to link two independent clauses together. The sentence 'Jane Wolf is a student at Royal Academy, and was never like the other girls at her school' is as example for an unnecessary use of a comma before 'and'. This can easily be a single sentence without the comma and would sound better and have a more clear meaning. 'David, and Joe' can simply be 'David and Joe'. There are other multiple unnecessary usage of commas that I suggest you take another look at and review the punctuation mistakes. Aside punctuation mistakes, there are a few inconsistencies of past and present tenses. The mistakes are very few to the point that it could go unnoticed by average readers, however it is always good to have a consistent use of tense when writing to avoid confusion.

There is also a lack of variety in sentences – most of your sentences are very long when it could be broken down into separate sentences. This is also mostly due to the excessive use of commas within your sentences. I do think that having long sentences does create a certain professional feel to it which a lot of writers tends to want to put into their summary, but in this case, a variety of sentences would actually be able to create more intrigue for readers. Shorter sentences can be used to create a sense of mystery and suspense which can help build a sense of curiosity for your readers.

The last assessment will be the content of your summary. Your summary follows a nice structure of the intro-body-outro of the entirety of your plot. I think your plot has been nicely explained in your summary without spoiling too much of it. I don't have much to say about the content of your summary, honestly. Overall, it's very important for the summary to be well written because it is what gives the readers the first impression of your story. A summary with good content but poorly written in terms of structure can discourage readers from viewing your story.

Plot (10/25): I will be honest with you – your plot doesn't strike me as intriguing. When I read your summary beforehand, I was slightly interested with how the story will occur, but upon reading the next few chapters I was slightly disappointed. There were certain parts in many chapters that were quite predictable – such as Xavier's sudden attraction to Jane which contradicts his purpose of watching her and Jane's defeat when she was playing for Royal Academy – which made the story less interesting in terms of building the feeling of anticipation of what comes next for the readers.

I wasn't able to quite grasp the core plot of the story being Jane and her relation to soccer because of the multiple romantic aspects that were consistently evident in almost every single chapter. I do understand that romance is a big part of your story, but I have to say diving into more and more chapters made me lose touch with what really is going on. The romance was pushed in quite early into the story with no in-depth conflicts before it. It seemed too sudden for me to read how Gazel, Torch and Xavier instantly took a liking to her so early on into the story. I personally felt that you had emphasized more towards the romance rather than other external conflicts which made the story less engrossing, because a good romance must be built upon several other external conflicts for it to make sense.

Characterization (7/20): Jane Wolf is a good character in theory (when based on the book's summary) but the written portrayal of her character was not as good as I expected. Throughout reading the chapters, Jane felt a little bland. She is written as the typical general female protagonist – the general kindness and beauty that attracts many guys to her – similar to a Mary Sue. She doesn't seem to have a strong conviction as she claims to be, as shown in how she is said to reject being in teams due to her obsession over perfecting her soccer skills yet joins a team the second she is invited. Her obsession over her soccer skills wasn't clearly shown in the story despite being mentioned in the summary.

Also, seeing that Gazel and Torch are one of the most written about characters in the story, I noticed how their characters were not portrayed as much except for their rivalry in both soccer and their love for Jane. The way these two characters were written seems to me as if their characterization was made to support the protagonist's story by changing their original personality into something slightly foreign.

Grammar and Writing Style (6/15): As an author, it is very important to pay careful attention to grammar and writing style. Any story plot can become something amazing and worth reading, but without the ability to present it well though words, readers wouldn't be able to understand the story entirely. I have noticed that you have the tendency to pile a lot of sentences into a long paragraphs rather than breaking them apart into small paragraphs that will help ease the reading process. Dialogues are combined into one paragraph that makes it difficult to separate the context of the dialogue with the occurring scene. It is highly recommended for dialogues to be separated using a new line or new paragraph so it can identify the different speakers. If multiple dialogues are being performed by one speaker, then it is alright to make it into a single, long paragraph.

One grammatical error that you have consistently made throughout the whole book is the use of your and you're. This is a mistake often made by many authors, native and non-native English speakers, but it is important to note its difference because each word holds a significant meaning. You tend to use your to say you are, instead of using you're. Do keep in mind that the word your is used to show possession of an object by someone (for instance, your cake, meaning you own the cake), while you're is simply short for you are (for instance, you're welcome or you're beautiful). Aside this certain grammatical error, please take care with your spellings. I have spotted many misspellings in many chapters such as the word 'whole' written as 'hole', and 'venom' as 'venim'. These misspellings disrupts the flow of the story and may confuse readers, as some words when misspelled can mean a whole different thing and may change the context of a sentence.

My next point will be your writing style. In your writing, you still tend to 'tell' rather than 'show'. A good author must be able to maintain a good amount of 'telling' a story as well as 'showing' a story. Both are different in terms of how it is presented in one's writing style, but too much of one can lead a story into becoming too confusing to understand or too predictable and lacking intrigue. I suggest you improve on your ability to show what is happening rather than telling it as it can help improve your story to make it seem more interesting and captivating for readers. This can be done by describing certain places and scenes using various adjectives and verbs to explain the vibe or what is happening, rather than explicitly stating where they are. Using a first person narrative is good to present the story in a more personal way, however too much shifts in POVs can become excessive to the point that it becomes confusing to keep up with and distracting since a single occurrence will be shown in various different ways. All comments aside, I do admire and appreciate the hard work and effort you have put into completing this story! You are full of ideas, and I encourage you to continue writing and thus develop and improve your style.

Originality (5/10): This concept has often been used in many of this fandom's fanfictions – where the main female protagonist is sort of ostracized by a majority of people of her school due to her love for soccer save for her best friends. The idea of being in a love triangle with the rivalling characters is also a famous trope amongst many stories, so I can't say that your story plot is original. However, I do like the idea of her obsession with perfecting herself before joining a soccer team which is unlike many that I've read. That specific part is rather refreshing to read.

Feels Factor (5/15): Due to the writing style of your story, unfortunately it became difficult for me to immerse myself with the flow of the story and empathize with the plot. There were certain parts of the story that managed to gain my interest for short moments. I believe that you can further improve your storytelling ability with more practice and care, so do keep up the hard work!

🅞🅒 🅡🅔🅥🅘🅔🅦 -> [ ➐.➎/➊➎]

Name (5/5): Jane Wolf is a simple and memorable name that isn’t repeated by the canon character’s dub name while still sounding plausible as a name of an Inazuma Eleven character.

Appearance (5/8): There’s not much description of Jane’s appearance throughout the story, so it is quite difficult to imagine how she looks. It leads me to believe that her uniqueness comes from her personality rather than her looks, which is far more interesting than having a special physical feature.

Personality (5/10): As I said in my review of the overall book, Jane World strikes me as a good character in theory. But reading further into each chapter, Jane reveals herself as quite the fickle character, often her actions seemingly contradicting with what she claims to be. Although this may be due to a lack of descriptive characterization of Jane throughout the story. For example, her being a perfectionist and obsession over soccer skills is something she claims to be but isn’t highlighted in her thoughts, speech and action, seemingly easily persuaded to act otherwise by other characters. Jane would need to express more conviction she claims to have and avoid the risk of becoming a Mary-Sue. But she does display determination in honing her soccer skills, translated in her confidence in determining what her goals are.

Strength and Weaknesses (7/12): Jane’s strength and weakness lies in her being emotionally-driven. She fuels herself on her frustration and pride as a soccer player to drive her will to win, but she is easily swayed into romance upon meeting  Gazel and Torch. I find it odd how friendly but distanced she can be with other characters but upon first meeting, is on the way to being head over heels for Gazel and Torch. Although she has a strong drive and commitment to improve and reach her goal, it is not often portrayed in the story. I do hope you portray more of her strong side in regards to soccer, highlighting her need for perfection and stubbornness to win.

Interaction with Canon (6/10): The book follows several canon events, inclusive of Jane’s presence as well. Admittedly, I had slight trouble recognizing whether an event in the book matched a specific arc in the anime plot. Jane’s role in the plot doesn’t hinder the canon flow of the story, merely inserting herself as one of the driving forces of the plot, although there were certain parts where the overlap was confusing and unclear for me to follow along and determine whether it had changed the canon plot or not.

Relationships with Canon Characters (3/5): While Jane interacts with many canon characters, her relationships are the most prominent with Gazel, Torch and Xavier. Their dynamic reflects that of the typical love square, in which Jane becomes additional fuel to Gazel and Torch’s rivalry, with the addition of Xavier which adds further tension between the three boys, while she herself struggles to choose one of them. Each of the boys’ interaction with Jane often changes their entire behaviour to one that works in Jane’s favor and leads Jane to lose her sense of conviction when it comes to them. The story then loses track of its focus on Jane’s self-discovery in soccer and becomes a Mary-Sue romance story. They all become dependent on each other in their interaction. I would like to see more of Jane in a way that develops her character by herself through soccer asides the drama of romance, so keep up the writing!

[Raw] 40/100 + 25/50 [Scaled] 33.75/100 + 7.5/15 [Total] 41.25%

Banner by -artxyuki

[billrhetts]

An exposition of Ephesians 5:1-21 & the command to obey & demonstrate this, by Bill Rhetts. These great commands by our Lord are rarely truly applied, obeyed and/or practiced (at least from my observations). Therefore I put this sermon together for the Lord’s people. I did an exposition of the Text, and shared several experiences, and how I applied this passage to them.

If we we’re to back up a bit, in chapter 4 Paul admonished the church with a series of injunctions. From ‘walking in unity,’ to ‘walking in the truth,’ to ‘walking worthy’ of bearing the name of Christian. And in order to accomplish these commands and expectations, we see ‘two chief injunctions.’ The first is to ‘Not grieve the Holy Spirit’ (in 4:30), and the second to ‘be filled with the Holy Ghost’ (5:18).   He correlates the relationship of a lawfully wedded ‘man and woman’ to Christ and His bride (the church). That’s how important both the Church and marriage are.

And now in chapter 5, Paul admonishes us even more. In verses 1-7 is ‘walking in Love.’ In verses 8-14 is ‘walking in the Light.’ In Verses 15-21 is ‘walking in wisdom.’

But these are more than admonishments, they’re more than commandments. Paul Bayne (aka the Radical Puritan) described this as to “prosecutith” the aforementioned chapter. I don’t care if you have graduate degrees in the book of Ephesians. Knowledge is useless without character and action. To not obey and demonstrate these commands is a sin of omission. Though obeying these commands are not salvific, they are an evidence of salvation. If a professing Christian does not consistently demonstrate these great commands, I would ask ‘are they even saved?’ Let us begin our exposition with vs 1-7 ‘walking in love.’

“Therefore be imitators of God as dear children. 2 And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma. 3 But fornication and all uncleanness or covetousness, let it not even be named among you, as is fitting for saints; 4 neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks. 5 For this you know, that no fornicator, unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. 6 Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience. 7 Therefore do not be partakers with them.’

Verse 1 begins with the command to “Therefore be imitators of God as dear children.” In the Greek this can be better translated as “Become therefore, or prove yourselves to be therefore.” This command refutes the teachings of easy believism. If a man has truly been born-again (regenerate), he is converted from being perverted. A convert is more than a ‘believer,’ they are a cleaver, and an imitator (mimētēs) of God. In other words, if you claim to be a Christian, prove it. Because we are more than ‘believers,’ we are demonstrators. Moreover, a Christian will imitate ‘the God and Jesus of the Scriptures.’ This word “God” in verse 1 is the Greek work Theos. Which means the Godhead (or Trinity) of the Scriptures. A convert ‘with reverence’ will continually glorify and demonstrate an awe for the Father, as they exalt Christ, and as they walk in His Holy Spirit. Which will include the simultaneous warring against their flesh, and repenting of sin. Charles Spurgeon said “Meditation is a happy, holy, profitable engagement; and it will instruct us, strengthen us, comfort us, inspire our hearts, and make our souls steadfast. But we may not stop at meditation. We must go on to imitation of the character of God. We must let our spiritual life not only bud and blossom in devout thought, but let it bring forth fruit in holy action.” Paul said in verse 2 ‘And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us, and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.’ In vs 2a Paul tells us to “walk in love.” So many understand what love is, but the following is what love is not. A Biblical love is not today’s ‘sensual love’ that withholds the truth, or that accepts sin. 1 Cor. 13:5-6 says, “Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself (or boast), is not puffed up; 5 does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 6 does not rejoice in iniquity (or does not celebrate or delight in sin), but rejoices in the truth;” (definitions inserted by author).

In vs 2b Paul said “Christ also has loved us…”

We must understand the last word ‘us’ here. The “us” here is the blood-bought repented church. When the Scriptures speak of God’s amazing love, He is referring to His chosen people, and in the N.T. His church (His elect). His wondrous love is not for lost worldlings. God’s love for the lost world is a mere ‘benevolent’ love. This word “love” here in the third portion of verse 2b is the Greek work agapaō, which means ‘to love in a social or moral sense, ‘to be loved by God, to welcome, to entertain, to be fond of, to love dearly, and to be well pleased…’ God is not “well pleased” with the world. The Bible says He hates those that practice sin (Psalm 5:5-6), and that He’s angry with the wicked every day (Psalm 7:11). There’s the manmade cliché that’s often used by carnal men, that “God loves the sinner, hates the sin.” This cliché is bordering blaspheme. God is not in-love with those practicing iniquity. Recently another street preacher was arrested while preaching at a homosexual pride parade. But this preacher was wrongfully telling those that were practicing and celebrating this sin, that “God loves you!”  I watched one video where he said “God loves you” several times within 15 minutes, as he quoted John 3:16 out of context.

As stated on my Twitter feed. “If a Christian is arrested for telling the lost world at an event that’s celebrating abominable sin, that “God loves you,” I’m not sure I would call their arrest “persecution.” The Bible is clear that God “hates those that practice iniquity.”” In vs 2c it says that Christ had “given Himself for us.”

Christ gave Himself for who? Who’s the “us?” – His church! Paul said in Gal 2:20 “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.” Verse 3 says, ‘But fornication and all uncleanness or covetousness, let it not even be named among you, as is fitting for saints;’

This word ‘fornication’ is a general term for any and all forms of sexual immorality.’

This word ‘uncleanliness’ can mean any and all sin. But more specifically, as Paul Bayne said, “For uncleanliness. It may signify all sin, but here it is to be taken to note all inferior filthiness of the same kind of fornication. Observe that Christians must keep themselves not only from more gross swervings, but from the least filthiness of flesh and spirit.”  

This fornication and uncleanness is in total contrast to the “sweet-smelling aroma” in verse 2. Paul Trapp described this fornication and uncleanness, “As standing in full opposition to that sweet-smelling savour (ver. 2.), being no better than the corruption of a dead soul, the devil’s excrement. That people fitly punished this filthy sin, who put the offenders heads into the paunch of a beast where all the filth lieth, and so stifled them to death.”

Verse 3b said “Let it not be named among you.”

This word “named” means that it’s not only sin to commit these sins, but its sin to approve of them (Rom 1:32). But today’s ‘carnal Christians’ (if there was such a thing) will say “We’re all sinners,” as they sinfully continue in their sins, or ‘wink and nod’ at others sins.

A Christian will hate their sins. Paul Bayne said, “We see then that we must have sin in extreme hatred; that we must be so far from doing it, that we must not name it without hatred.” But Paul ends this verse reminding us that if you’re saved, we are “saints.” Though we may be saved sinners. We are now “saints.” When a sinner becomes born-again (regenerate) they are translated from being ‘hagos (an awful thing)’ to ‘hagios. This saved saint (hagios) means to be sacred (physically, pure, morally blameless or religious, ceremonially, consecrated): To be a most holy thing, a saint.’ And all of the above can only be attributed to the imputed attributes of the Godhead. So then, we ought to act more like ‘hagios,’ and less like ‘hagos.’

Verse 4 warns that ‘neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks.’ Wycliffe says “These words do not preclude spontaneous Christian gaiety and a sense of humor, but they indicate that Christians are not to indulge in empty frivolity. In the Greek they connote the sort of jesting that is vulgar and unclean. The antidote for the Christian is thanksgiving.” Christians are forbidden to engage in foolish conversations, dirty jokes, off color jokes, sexual innuendos. Not even to laugh at such nonsense. Not even to watch or listen to music, plays, or movies with such. Bayne said, “The Devil wisheth no other musicians, and what agreement hath the behaviour of vices in plays with Christian sobriety?”

I remember at my father’s 80th birthday party, one of his friends (a professing Christian) attending the party decided to engage in jokes that were ‘sexual in nature.’ (Tell how I rebuked & exposed his sinfulness a few months later while on his death bed, with my mom as a witness. How his nurse was utterly shocked & mad that I would say such things to him. That’s demonstrating this passage to him). (Tell them about the Ham Radio group in Montclair, and the two fellows that frequently used the S word & F word in nearly every paragraph. Tract and run from being “partakers” with them.) We must not be partakers with sinful people, and their sinful deeds, more about that in verses 7&11.

Verse 5 says ‘For this you know, that no fornicator, unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God.’ If a person continually commits these sins (without repentance), it is evidence they have not been regenerate (born-again), hence they are not part of the present ‘kingdom of God,’ and will not go to heaven in the future, but will perish in hell. Since we have not yet addressed this sin called “idolatry.”

Yes we all have idols in our lives. Idolatry isn’t just religious statues and golden calves. Perhaps the golden calf of the 21st century is our own minds, or the false deity of ‘me, myself and I.’ Or the deity of ‘iPads, iPods, and iPhones.’ If you can’t repent from these carven technological idols, and if you can’t keep them out of your own sanctuary, then leave them in your car, or throw them in the trash. Paul warns us many times throughout the Scriptures, “do not be deceived.”

And now in Verse 6 he says, ‘Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience.’ This is what I consistently see on Facebook, ‘vain empty words’ of deceit, as FB friends try to make excuses for sinfulness. You think my words are too harsh for them? You think my unfriending them is too harsh? But God’s Word here is extremely harsh, as he warns them that “because of these things, the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience.” It says in Rom 1:18 ‘For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who suppress the truth in unrighteousness,’ Gal 3:6-7 says, ‘Because of these things the wrath of God is coming upon the sons of disobedience, 7 in which you yourselves once walked when you lived in them.’ And God’s wrath increases, Romans 2:5 warns, ‘But in accordance with your hardness and your impenitent heart, you are treasuring up for yourself wrath, in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God.’ It says in John 3 that the world is condemned already, that’s why they need the Gospel.

So what are we going to do with all this information and knowledge? We’re going to put it to practice, and demonstrate it. Now is where it starts getting real serious.

In verse 7 Paul said “Therefore do not be partakers with them.”

Do no associate yourselves with them, or the lawlessness they stand for. Because a loving walk is a holy walk. In other words, to walk with them is ungodly, and unloving (Psalm 1).

As one Puritan said, “We are not to familiarly accompany the wicked.”

Flee from their presence. As Paul Trapp said “Lest by infection of their sin ye come under infliction of their punishment. We are accountable as well for sins of communion as of commission.”

John Gill said “Be not ye therefore partakers with them. In their sins, and acts of disobedience; by keeping needless company with them; by abetting and encouraging sinful practices; by conniving at them, and not reproving for them; or by committing the same things.” This is not saying that we should not go where they are. We’re to be in this world, but not of the world. But we’re not to extend unequally yoked friendships, or common courtesies to them. (Tell them about my recent resignation from a “Christian” organization, and my 4 page letter of indictment). Next is verses 8-14, walking in light.

8 For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light 9 (for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, righteousness, and truth), 10 finding out what is acceptable to the Lord. 11 And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them. 12 For it is shameful even to speak of those things which are done by them in secret. 13 But all things that are exposed are made manifest by the light, for whatever makes manifest is light. 14 Therefore He says: “Awake, you who sleep, Arise from the dead, And Christ will give you light.”

Verses 8-10 says, ‘For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, righteousness, and truth), 10 finding out what is acceptable to the Lord.’

Notice the ‘were’ in verse 8. A Christian is a person that used to practice these sins. They were once known for walking in sin (darkness), but now are known for walking in the light of the Lord.

Verse 9 says believers will demonstrate ‘(for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, righteousness, and truth),’ The Greek matters in this verse.  

This ‘goodness’ (agathōsunē) is our horizontal kindness, or benevolence towards others.

This ‘righteousness’ (dikaiosunē) is the evidence of our vertical righteousness in Christ, that Christ has declared the sinner (now saint) righteous before the Father; therefore we ought to act like it.

This ‘truth’ (alētheia) is an ‘objective’ truth that must be told and believed under any and all circumstances.

In the next verse is another admonishment, as what we’re to do with this knowledge. And that is to apply it, and demonstrate it.

Verse 11 commands “And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them.” To “have no fellowship” with them, literally means to ‘stop fellowship’ with them. We need to break-up with the world.

Matthew Poole said, “Have no fellowship with, not only do not practice them yourselves, but do not join with others in them, by consent, advice, assistance, or any other way whereby ye may be defiled by them.” As Paul Trapp quoted Perkins in his commentary. “No needless society for fear of infection; get the wind of those stinking carcasses; “hate the garment spotted by the flesh,” that is, avoid ill company (saith Perkins).” Just as Noah gathered God’s elect, and His chosen creation onto that Arc, while fleeing from partaking with the world, we too ought to do the same. But preach (or share) His glorious Gospel while we’re still here. I’m seeing an increase of “believers” tell the church to get along with the world. But they will use Romans 12:18 out of context. Which says “If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men.”

I am guilty of this too. But there’s a grave danger in believing one verse out of context. There’s a reason why I have a statue of ‘Lady Liberty’ holding her scales of justice upon our bookshelves. Though I fall miserably short. It is to remind me to consider those theological scales. To consider the weight of all the Scriptures. The whole counsel of God.

There must be a balance amongst our theological scales. If our scales are leaning too far into verse 18, it wrongfully implies that Christians are to try to ‘get along’ with everybody. Or wrongfully be tolerant of sin, so that we can ‘be at peace’ with everybody. But that’s a fatal misinterpretation of the Text. Because when we tip our scales back to verse 9, we see the healthier balance to “Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good.” In other words, though it ought to be our goal to ‘live at peace with others,’ but never at the expense of compromise, tolerance, or acquiescing to sin.

It says in Eccles. 3:8 there’s “A time to love, and a time to hate; A time of war, and a time of peace.” Though Jesus is the Prince of Peace (Ish 9:6), He also came to divide.

Jesus said in Matthew 10:34-36, “Do not think that I came to bring peace on earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35 For I have come to ‘set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law’; 36 and ‘a man’s enemies will be those of his own household.’”

And not only are we not to have fellowship with the lost world, were to rebuke or expose them. We’re not to have ‘fellowship with sin,’ we’re not be an ‘agent of sin,’ nor be an ‘accessory to sin.’

And the commands of this Text, keeps getting more serious.

Verse 11b says “but rather expose them.”

This word ‘expose’ is the Greek word elegchō, which means that we’re to find fault with, to confute, to admonish, to convict, convince, tell a fault, rebuke, and/or reprove. It is the Christians duty to ‘oppose and expose’ darkness (sin). That is part of being the Biblical “light” that’s associated with Christianity.   In the context of two or more witnesses bringing a charge against an Elder, it says in 1 Tim 5:20 says “Those who are sinning rebuke in the presence of all, that the rest also may fear.”

Verse 12 says ‘For it is shameful even to speak of those things which are done by them in secret.’ It is not only sinful to practice the aforementioned sins, it can also be sin to speak of them with idle chatter (gossip), or to speak of them with no response to those sins. We mustn’t gossip of others sins done in private, but rather we must rebuke them. And when sins are committed publicly, we may publicly rebuke them.

If your doctor discovered you had cancer. Would you want your doctor to tell you about it, or just talk about it amongst his staff?

The next two verses better explain how this process of ‘exposing’ works.

Paul said in vs 13, ‘But all things that are exposed are made manifest by the light, for whatever makes manifest is light. 14 Therefore He says: “Awake, you who sleep, Arise from the dead, And Christ will give you light.”

When Christians expose sin (or evil) coupled with the remedy (the Gospel), God decrees some to repent and be saved, but not others. Those the Lord saves, will be translated from darkness into the kingdom of light; hence a supernatural event known as ‘salvation.’

Next is verses 15-21 is ‘Walking in Wisdom’

15 See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, 16 redeeming the time, because the days are evil. 17 Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is. 18 And do not be drunk with wine, in which is dissipation; but be filled with the Spirit, 19 speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord, 20 giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 21 submitting to one another in the fear of God.’

Verses 15-16 says ‘See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, 16 redeeming the time, because the days are evil.’

Verse 15 speaks of our ‘way of life,’ or our ‘life-style,’ that we’re to walk circumspectly. This circumspectly is the Greek word akribōs [ak-ree-boce’], it is an adverb which means to walk diligently, exactly, or perfectly.

Another scholar described ‘walking circumspectly’ as a wartime soldier walking through a minefield.

Verse 16 warns us to ‘redeem the time, because the days are evil.’

I enjoy some hobbies. Such as camping, cycling, and ham radio. Though camping is great for my marriage, I have to discipline myself when engaging in things that have no eternal significance.

Verse 17 says ‘Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is.’ This is another command, but to stop wasting your time, to stop walking unwisely, to stop being foolish – repent.

Verse 18 said ‘And do not be drunk with wine, in which is dissipation; but be filled with the Spirit,’ This verse compares a man who is ‘drunk with wine’ to a man ‘filled with the Holy Spirit. Since I’ve done extensive topical studies on alcohol, I’m not going to expound too much on this subject here. But drunkenness is sin. And it is contrary to a born-again (Spirit filled) person. And in some cases, it can be sin without becoming drunk. Upon your request I can email you my teachings on alcohol.    

Regarding being filled with the Lord’s Spirit. One scholar said it this way –

“No believer in Christ is ever commanded to be indwelt by the Spirit. His indwelling is certain and permanent (Jn 14:16,17). Nor is a believer commanded to be baptized with the Spirit. This has already been done (1 Cor 12:13). But believers are commanded to be filled with the Spirit. Hence there is individual responsibility; there are conditions to be met if we are to experience the Spirit’s control in our lives.”

I cannot have more of the Holy Spirit than another Christian sitting next to me. But I can be more disciplined, more sanctified, and more submitted to the Lord. Hence, more empowered, and more gifted by Him. Salvation is monergistic, but Holy Spirit willing, sanctification is synergistic. The next three verses are an evidence of the “Spirit filled Christian.”

Verses 19-21, ‘speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord, 20 giving thanks always for all things to God the Father, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 21 submitting to one another in the fear of God.’

I don’t have a great outwardly singing voice, but I can inwardly sing a great melody and music in my heart, onto the Lord.

A “Spirit filled” Christian can be thankful for ‘all things,’ not just good things, but we can be thankful for the good, the bad, and the ugly things in our lives.

Today it seems that many believers faith is wrongfully built upon circumstances, or ‘who’s is in the White House,’ or a sinking sand. I think of some of my professing Christian colleagues like LAPD officer Tom Baker, who told me I was “too zealous.” Or Lt. Rick Albee, who told me I was “too bold.”

Nevertheless Horatius Bonar said “A believing man will be a zealous man. Faith makes a man zealous. Faith shows itself by zeal. Not by zeal for a party, or a system, or an opinion; but by zeal for Christ–zeal for His church, zeal for the carrying-on of His work on earth.” Even to complain about the weather, is to complain about God’s decree, and His Sovereignty. Almighty God has His hands on the thermostat. A ‘Spirit filled’ Christian will be empowered by the Holy Spirit, to rejoice in all things, thru thick or thin.

Dr. Theodore Zachariades said, “The culture or ethos of Western Civilization is no longer tethered to its roots. It is heading full speed into oblivion. Why is the church so eager to follow this course? This is proof positive that the institutional church is just that, an institution. The true body of Christ, all true saints of all ages, the predestinate; as Wycliffe put it, will continue to resist come what may. Christianity is not a retreat into ghetto-hood. It is a confrontational way of life, and a comprehensive world view that has a message from beyond the world, that alone can transform the world. “Jesus is Lord” was the first confession of faith. He remains the only hope for the world.”

In closing I’d like to give the following benediction.

“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.” – 1 Corinthians 15:58.

Or as I often post on social media.

As always brethren –Love ‘biblically’ – repent – be salt and light – be holy – be sanctified – fear God – pray without ceasing – keep His commandments – grow in His grace and knowledge – put on the whole armor of God (and use it) – walk circumspectly – believe in and trust Jesus – obey the Gospel – share the Gospel – preach the Gospel – contend for the faith, – disciple each other, hate the things that God hates, and love the things that God loves – keep the faith, work-out your salvation with fear and trembling, and endure to the end! https://youtu.be/RWsCCV8lfO4

[smartworkingpackage]

You Don’t Have to Be a Genius to Be Creative

Are you a creative person? Chances are, you said you aren’t. We’ve been conditioned to believe that creativity is the sole domain of geniuses, a kind of divine inspiration that is beyond the reach of ordinary people.

But the common perception of creativity is largely based on myth and legend. Allen Gannett, CEO of TrackMaven and author of “The Creative Curve: How to Develop the Right Idea at the Right Time,” dug into the science and history of creative achievement and found a surprising pattern. According to Allen, it’s not about genius at all. Hard work, good timing, and strong feedback matter a lot more, and those are skills which can be learned, practiced, and repeated.

We sat down with Allen to explore this concept in the latest episode of Taking Note: Conversations with Evernote. Listen below or read on for some highlights from our conversation.

Taking Note: S2 E5 — Riding the Creative Curve with Allen Gannett

Length: 39 minutes iTunes | SoundCloud | Overcast | MP3 | RSS

  Selected Highlights

We tend to think of creativity as specifically referring to art. But there are all sorts of creative acts. A scientific breakthrough that you arrive at through your intellect, that’s a creative act. A new business venture is a creative act. So what in your view is creativity? How do we define a piece of work as being creative?

It’s actually one of the most challenging questions. If I paint something and I throw a bunch of paint on a canvas, you wouldn’t say it’s creative. But if Picasso did the same thing, you’d probably say it’s creative. So what does creativity mean? It’s kind of like that famous Supreme Court case about pornography. How do you know what’s obscene or not obscene? They said, “Well, you know it when you see it.”

And creativity is much the same. But there’s actually a really great definition that academics have come to. When you’re talking about creativity, what you’re really talking about is the ability to make things that are both novel and valuable. Novel and valuable.

When I throw paint on a canvas it’s certainly novel but it’s not valuable. I recently learned how to do conditional color formatting in Excel. That’s certainly valuable, but it’s definitely not novel and it’s certainly not creative. So what creativity really is, is the ability to create things that are both novel and valuable. Now, the challenge that leaves for people who want to be creative is that value is a subjective statement. For something to be valuable, we all have to agree it’s valuable. And so, as a result, creativity is actually a social construct.

If you created a novel and no-one ever read it, are you creative? It’s actually impossible to prove that you are, because lots of people create novels that aren’t creative. And the only way we know whether or not it’s creative is whether or not other people deem it creative. There’s a circular logic that falls into place.

The book is called “The Creative Curve: How to Develop the Right Idea, at the Right Time.” The creative curve is a concept in the book about the interplay between novelty, familiarity, and timing. Can you explain that briefly?

It really boils down at a foundational level to the fact that we have these two contradictory urges. We have this one urge which is that we’re always looking for things that are familiar. And the reason why is that we crave safety. So if you were a prehistoric cave dweller, if you saw two different caves and one cave is a cave that you sleep in every night, and the other cave is a cave you’ve never been in before, your body goes, “Oh, that cave is unfamiliar. It doesn’t feel safe. This one that I’ve seen lots and lots of times, that’s a safe cave. I’m going to go and sleep there.”

But we also have this other desire. We also have this part of us that’s novelty-seeking. And that’s because we’re also wired to find new sources of reward, new sources of energy, new sources of food. So if you were a forager, you’re also constantly looking for where the next meal is going to come from.

Now, what’s interesting about these two urges is that they’re an inherent contradiction. We like things that are both familiar and we like things that are novel. Where it starts to make sense is when you realize that this is your brain’s really elegant way of balancing risk and reward. It turns out that as consumers and as humans, we like things that are at this balance of familiarity and novel. They’re familiar with a novel twist.

Your job as a creator is to create ideas that have that right blend of familiarity and novelty.

Basically what that means is that when you first see something you might not like it very much. And the more you see it, the more you like it. Up until a point. At a certain point, your novelty-seeking wins out and then you like it less and less each additional time you’re exposed to it. You get bored.

Think about the new Drake song. Maybe the first you heard it you’re like, “Ah, this is not good.” The fifth time, “Well, this is nice. It’s hard to tell really if I like this, but maybe I’m getting bored.” And the twentieth time you’re like, “Please, never play this song again.”

And so you see this bell curve relationship between exposure and preference. And for the book, I call that concept the creative curve because I think it’s a little easier to say. And it really underlies what your task as a creator is. Your job as a creator is to create ideas that have that right blend of familiarity and novelty.

I get what you’re saying, but if we are relying on the acceptance of the masses to tell us whether or not we’re being creative, is that really a good measure of creativity? I look at the TV ratings or the Top 40 and I think maybe it isn’t a good measure.

Great question. One of the things I talk about in the book is that this creative curve phenomenon, it happens at an individual level, a group level, and a population level. And so what this means is when we talk about things being labeled creative, it doesn’t have to be labeled so by mainstream culture. For something to be labeled creative it has to be accepted. But it doesn’t matter the group size.

I would personally argue, and this is a more esoteric discussion, that obviously the fine artists who art critics say are creative, they are creative. But I would also argue a lot of musicians that create these things that are loved by many people are also creative. And I think that’s very hard to sometimes acknowledge in the present. But when we look to the past, a lot of us would say, well, Led Zeppelin was creative or the Beatles were creative. They were pop musicians at the time, right? Your grandparents said the Beatles weren’t creative.

That’s a really good point, I think. You know, with every new musical movement there’s some group of people who says, “That’s not music.” Not just “that’s not creative” but that’s not even music.

Right.

So we’re all familiar with this inspiration theory of creativity. The flash of genius, the eureka moment. But one of the central arguments that you make in the book is that this is a myth, specifically the notion that creativity is confined to genius. So where did that notion come from?

In the book I spend a chapter breaking down the history of creativity and genius over time, and how they interplay and how they’re intertwined. What makes a poet? What makes an artist? Are artists special? Are they not? And it’s changed over time. So, for example, in the medieval era artists weren’t actually viewed as valuable. They were viewed as lowly craftspeople who merely created basic works of art that were used as symbols in churches and this kind of thing.

A lot of the changes around how creativity is viewed are intertwined with economics. So in periods of great riches, we tend to raise the social capital of creatives. As their work becomes something more people can afford and more people pursue, there’s a supply and demand thing that comes in.

Genius has become correlated with creativity, but it’s not always been in a good way. So, for example, in the 1800s genius was actually viewed as a negative thing. The person with the most social capital was the so-called average man. […] Right now, we’re on this entrepreneur kick where we’re putting Elon Musk on covers of magazines. Elon Musk literally has thousands and thousands of rocket scientists and car R&D people who work for him. He’s not going off in a cabin by himself. But right now that’s our media perception of creativity. Elon Musk is Iron Man, he’s Tony Stark, he’s doing all these things by himself. And it’s just so comically untrue. This notion of the individual, solo genius is sort of the most prominent part of the creativity story. And it’s also wrong.

So many of the historical figures who we now consider to be geniuses were underappreciated in their own time. And now it seems like we’re trying to overcompensate by actively searching out people who we can proclaim to be geniuses.

I think it actually has a lot to do with capitalism, especially in America where we all like the idea that certain people are able to go from nothing to something. That notion is appealing to us, the idea that’s there this sort of individual hero. And I think it’s unfortunate, because one of the things I talk about in the book is that since creativity is a social phenomenon, there’s actually a huge role that other people play in your creative process. And I break down four different types of people that all the creative geniuses I interviewed had in that role. One of them is what I call the Prominent Promoter. All these creatives had someone more senior than them, more well-known than them, who lent them credibility.

In academics you see this with senior researchers giving credit to junior researchers. With music, you see that bands have opening acts. Over and over again in all creative fields you see this passing on of credibility. And that’s so important because if creativity is a social phenomenon you need people to give you the time of day. And one of the ways to get that is to borrow it from someone else.

In the book, you deconstruct some of the mythology that has grown up around some of the creative geniuses that we adore. Mozart, Michelangelo, and Darwin are three. And you point out how the stories that we have received about these people are largely incorrect. But even if the stories that we think we know about these people aren’t true, they have left us legacies that are so rich that they’re household names after centuries. So where did those superlative outputs come from, if not from genius?

It really tells us the power of the media and storytelling. Mozart is perhaps the most interesting example. A lot of our current narrative around Mozart can trace back to two things. More recently, the movie Amadeus in 1985 won eight Academy Awards including Best Picture. It made over $200 million in the box office, over $600 million when you adjust it for inflation. This was a popular movie.

And in the movie, Mozart is portrayed as literally a little kid, blindfolded, playing piano for the Pope. They say things like, you know, he wrote his first concerto at four, opera at six, something else at eight, blah, blah, blah. And here’s the problem. That is nowhere near true.

we all want to believe in this idea of the god-like hero. It’s a compelling idea but it’s just not true.

The real story of Mozart is when he was three years old he had what we would now consider a helicopter dad who told him, “I love you but you need to become the world’s greatest musician. And to do that, I’m going to hire the best music teachers in all of Europe to teach you music.” He wrote his first original music, not when he was four. When he was 17. Now, you may say, well, that’s still pretty impressive. But that’s after 14 years of practicing three hours every single day with some of the best music teachers in all of Europe.

Then, what’s even crazier to me, one of the big, strong myths around Mozart is this idea that he would compose music in his head, away from a piano. He would only go to a piece of paper to write the finished piece of music and it would have no mistakes, no edits. And this traces back to a letter supposedly written by Mozart that was published in the early 1800s. The problem is this letter was forged. A music magazine publisher named Johann Rochlitz, who basically wanted to sell magazines and wanted to prop up Mozart ’cause he was a fan, he literally forged this letter.

You see this again and again when you start deconstructing these stories, because we all want to believe in this idea of the god-like hero. It’s a compelling idea but it’s just not true.

If we dial a bit down from absolute genius, do you believe that there’s a creative type?

I believe that there are learnable, nurturable personality traits that help creativity. When you look at studies around what’s correlated to creative potential, the things which often come up are things like openness. Openness is not hereditary. It’s nurtured. You can learn to be more open, you can practice becoming more open, you can change the type of people you have around you. These are not fixed things.

There’s also all these really fascinating studies that look at the relationship between IQ and creativity. And over and over again what you find is that IQ really has no bearing on creative potential. And so then the question for us is, well, if that’s true how do we unlock it? That’s what the second half of the book goes into.

So when people make that complaint that we talked about at the beginning, “Oh, I’m not creative,” do you think they’re comparing themselves to this genius archetype or are they thinking about talent or aptitude?

They’re comparing themselves to the genius archetype but they’re using it as an excuse. When we look at how easy we think it is for Mozart, and we think how hard it is for us, we go, “Well, it’s not easy for me so I just must not be creative.” And we forget, partly because of this mythology that has been created, that it wasn’t easy for Mozart either.

And the other thing is that we really underestimate our ability to become talented at things. If you want to have a really big epiphany at your laptop, go on YouTube and search for videos before and after voice lessons. There’s this whole genre on YouTube of people singing and then 12 months later singing after they took voice lessons. And it’s amazing. I mean, people go from having like the worst voices ever to having these beautiful voices.

When you talk about something like the story of Mozart, or when I think about someone like John Coltrane or Sonny Rollins practicing the saxophone hour after hour after hour, I know there are people out there listening to this and the first that is popping into their head is, “ah, 10,000 hours.” But as you point out in the book, that is also not quite true.

Oh, God. Yeah. So the 10,000 hours principle has become this sort of mantra in self-help. There’s lots of articles written about the 10,000 hours principle and how if you just practice, practice, practice, you can create anything. It’s based on the research by a researcher named K. Anders Ericsson who is one of the foremost researchers on it. But what his paper actually says is not that if you practice 10,000 hours at anything you’ll get better at it. It says something different. One, it says that 10,000 hours is the average across people and across skills. Different people take different amounts of time so, yes, anyone can get better at anything but it takes different people different amounts of time. And it also depends on the skills. There’s not some magical thing in your brain which when you hit 10,000 hours it goes, “Great job.”

Here’s the second issue: the paper says that it’s 10,000 hours on average of something called deliberate practice. And deliberate practice is a very specific type of practice that’s outlined in pedagogy. It’s breaking down a skill into very, very small increments and practicing that small piece of skill over and over again.

So let me give you an example. Probably everyone listening to the podcast drives. And you’ve probably driven 10,000 hours. But I can promise you, you’re not a NASCAR driver. And the reason why is that as we do something more and more, it starts becoming automatic. It’s becoming subconscious. It’s why when you’re commuting you just sort of lose track of time and all of a sudden you’re at your location. You’re not actually thinking about what you’re doing.

if you wanted to become a NASCAR driver, what you would do is you would take the skill of driving and you’d break it down into these tiny little tasks. You’d say, “Okay, I’m going to practice high speed left turns over and over and over again. And only once I get great at that will I then practice high speed right turns.” You see this with basketball players. Basketball players will practice mid-court, left-handed dribbling over and over and over and over again. So if you want to become great at something, it turns out it’s not about practice. Rote practice actually will just make you keep doing whatever you’re doing more and more subconsciously.

Okay, so now that we have hopefully demolished some notions that people can’t be creative, or that you, that you have to be some sort of amazing genius demigod to, to have creative thoughts, how do we generate fresh ideas and how do we judge if they’re any good?

In the back half of the book I explain four things you can do to nurture and be really intentional about your creativity. And one of the things that I found that was surprising to me was all these creatives I interviewed had very systematic processes for getting feedback.

For example, Ben & Jerry’s, the ice cream company. I had the fun experience of spending a day with the Ben & Jerry’s flavor team, and really digging into understanding how they come up with a new flavor. These are people who spend literally their entire career thinking about ice cream. And what they don’t do is come up with ideas and say, “Great, we have it.”

Every year they come up with a list of 200 ideas. And they send an email survey to their customers. And for each of these ideas they ask two questions. One, how likely are you to buy this flavor? And two, how unique is this flavor? Or, basically, how familiar is it and how novel is it?

The truth is that all these creatives spend a huge amount of time listening. That’s one of the most important things you can do if you want to be successful at creative tasks.

And what they’ve found is they have to find a balance of those two things. Because if it’s just how likely are you to buy it, well, you’ll end up with all these very familiar flavors and all of a sudden, every Ben & Jerry’s ice cream will be the same thing. And if they only focused on how unique it is, they’d end up with all these weird flavors no one wants to buy. So they use data, pretty lo-fi data, to learn what their audience will like, where these ideas fall on the creative curve. Because they want to get ideas that are the right blend.

But there’s even more subtle ways. I had this meta-experience writing the book. And I know a lot of Evernote users are writers, so I’m sure you can relate. You’re writing these words and then you have external readers, maybe your agents reading it, your editors reading it, your copy editors reading it, your proofreaders reading it. All these people are giving you feedback and you’re iterating it. And that’s what makes it go from okay to good to hopefully great. That feedback is so important.

So, yes, we mythologize the idea of a creative genius who just creates things from their own brain, and then they’re done. But the truth is that all these creatives spend a huge amount of time listening. That’s one of the most important things you can do if you want to be successful at creative tasks.

So what’s one thing that someone can do today, right at this minute, to start unlocking their own creative potential?

One of the things I found from the creatives that I interviewed is that all of them went very, very, very deep in their information consumption on a very, very narrow band of information. They weren’t reading all of Twitter, they weren’t reading all of Facebook, they’re not generalists. In fact, from a count and consumption perspective, you’d say they’re maladjusted. But if you want to become really great at something specific, you have to consume that much information about it because it lets you understand what is familiar and what is overexposed.

In the book, I tell the story of Ted Sarandos, who’s the chief content officer of Netflix. Been there for 18 years, overseen their entire successful strategy of getting into original programming. And he started his career as literally a video store clerk who decided he would watch every single movie in the store. And that’s what gave him the ability to have taste. By understanding the corpus, what’s out there, what would be familiar, you understand what’s going to be too new, too familiar and just right. And that’s something that you can start doing today. And usually it doesn’t cost anything.

Allen Gannett is CEO of TrackMaven, a leading marketing analytics firm. His book, The Creative Curve: How to Develop the Right Idea at the Right Time will be published by Currency / Penguin Random House on June 12, 2018.

To hear our complete conversation, click the player above or download Taking Note from iTunes, SoundCloud, Overcast, or your podcast platform of choice.

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[emerysmerkin]

The Holiday: Chapter 9

A Welcome Respite

It must be getting late in the afternoon and neither of them have left the bed. Well they had but against the wall and dresser doesn’t count. After they returned to the bed to catch their breath and revel in their post sex ecstasy, there was a polite knock on the door. Amy covered them both with the bedsheets for reasons unbeknownst to Ash. “Come in.”

The servants enter with a plate of lemon chicken judging by the smell. “Your evening meal.” The small Orisian human is dismissed by Amy and leaves. His lover wastes no time pouncing on the food, like a panther on its prey. Ash enjoys the enthusiasm she does everything with, like whatever is right in front of her is the most important thing on the plane.

She already started dissecting the meat with the nobles eating utensils before Ash could even work out how to operate them.   "Mmm, I need to find Emery some nice wine" Once finished speaking Amy returned to her chicken, eating it like it is the first meal she's had in days. Watching her eat with such ferocity gives him a pang of guilt from feeding her the chilli without letting her try the spice beforehand.   "Tortillilya has many places to find good vintages. I can show you them if you wish. I am normally suspicious of things Emery does but so far this house has been pleasant." He was dubious at first when the two of them arrived at the building, thinking it will be reams of protocol of etiquette. There has been very little of that, even then Amy deals with it. How she remembers all these things is beyond Ash "Yes please. I had backup plans for when he fucked with us but they were nothing like this. Except for the married thing, he's helped a lot" Ash is still trying to remove the flesh from the bone of his chicken using these unwieldly utensils and it takes him some time before he continues the conversation. Amy makes the wielding of them look effortless and graceful while he fails to master them. "And the names, he is aware I have no last name." "I doubt they'd have permitted us in the house if you didn't have a last name" "Strange rules." He noticed Amy's plate is empty and she is now looking at his with hungry eyes, or perhaps she is looking at his nude form under the plate. It wouldn't be the first time she's looked at him like that, not even today. She sighs, before grabbing her plate and standing up. She quickly puts on some sort of gown, his shirt it appears, and heads towards to door. "Where are you going?" "To get more food. I'm so hungry! I'm going to find a maid" He looks at his own and weighs up the pros and cons of not eating all his chicken and Amy being dressed, his loins prevail over his stomach. "You may have mine." "Don't be silly. I'll be back in a minute. There'll be a maid loitering down the hall for our plates." She slips out the door. The decision was moot; he’s left alone with the food. Perhaps it’s for the best, it is very nice, better than he could ever make.

Ash is washing down his meal with some wine when Amy gets back. "They're bringing another course and dessert. Yay!" More mirth, he feels the smiles that come so easily to her are starting to wear off on him. "I am surprised you are so hungry, we had a large lunch." Amy raises an eyebrow at him, before stripping off again, her pale skin glows as the afternoon sun beats through the window onto her. "I always eat a lot after a big climb. And I'm a halfling, we love food." He remembers the halflings he used to sail with and they were the same. Ash tries to avoid relying on stereotypes but he hasn’t yet found a halfling who doesn’t eat a lot. "Yet you are so small, you would think you eat less." She gets back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her neck, the scene is inviting but he has food he must finish and attempt not to get any on the bed. "Mannistone says halflings have a super quick metabolism, something to do with energy expenditure. I don't know. He says lots of big important words, it's easier to just tune him out sometimes. Anyway, it makes me the perfect sentient test subject" This Mannistone always seems to know a lot and is never shy with sharing it. Ash finds that he’s liking Amy’s previously dead friend less and less, but Amy says she can trust him and Ash trusts Amy.

She grins at him before frowning at the door "I wonder how long it'll take for the next course." Amy continues to baffle him, distracted instantly by food even though she just ate, Ash has seen the lights in the south, storms that disappear without any indication they were ever there and islands on the backs of turtles. Nothing astounds him more than his lover’s crazy and endearingly erratic behaviour. "I do not know; I am still eating mine." "I know. You eat so slooooowwwww. It makes it too easy to steal some." Ash is slightly annoyed, he offered his food and she declined. He protects his plate "Do not steal my food." "I wasn't going to!" She raises her hands in surrender. He’s suspicious but accepts, Amy doesn't lie. Just in case he speeds up his eating. Amy giggles, her soft laugh floats around the room. He tries to understand what is funny and quickly gives in.

As he's finishing up, she stretches slowly, Ash watches the Amy shaped mound under the bed sheets spread out. "Did you order one course or two?" She chuckles again, "I didn't order anything, we aren't in a tavern. They'd already planned the three-course meal. Meals are planned in a household like this about a month in advance, depending on whether the lady of the house wants to check the menu. They'd have had every meal planned out for us as soon as they knew we were coming" Ash frowns, wondering how people can live their entire lives under this level servitude. On a ship meals are planned out by the cook, based on dietary needs and supplies, but they have a great deal of authority and answer to few. Not like these servants always, bowing, averting their gaze and apologising for nothing.

Amy nudges against him before laying her head on his arm, "You ok? Why are you frowning?" "What makes the people who work here so devoted to the master of the house and us by extension?" She sits up and he can see the process of her piecing together a response play over her face. She always carefully words her answers and he appreciates her patience with him. "I can only tell you from my experience. We had some families in our house who had served us for generations. We had servants who a member of the household had helped in some way, so they're paying back their debt the only way they know how. For the most part though, it's the money. Serving in a house like this is the best wage a lot of people can get, and the mistress and master of the house will hardly use it. My serving staff in Baelden City will be having a great time." The whole time she’s saying this Amy does her arm movements which as far as Ash can tell has no correlation to what she is saying. It’s enjoyable to watch, like a dance performance from a far-off land. Ash mulls over what Amy said for a moment. It makes sense, for the most part. "I accept that answer. Do you know they are having a great time?" "No, but they'll have been paid for five years without having to deal with me. No mistress of the house means they can run themselves and I left behind a very nice steward to manage it all in my absence. Unless my mother took over, then they'll be earning their money" Ash could never have a servant. Servitude without loyalty, it’s all very alien to him. This is partly why he does not like other drows, they always seem to talk to him about servants or in some cases slaves, the latter he removes their limbs for.

"You don't seem satisfied with my answer" He became so engrossed in his animosity towards his own race he forgot he was still talking to Amy. "Your answer seems logical enough, I find the concept very strange if we ever retire to land I do not want servants." "Not even a cook? I'll grow old before you and I'll need a cook. I used to think a person not having servants was strange. It was all I knew. People were split into nobility and servants to me when I was a child." The fact that one could not start life as a servant and rise to the ranks of a noble was everything wrong with that system in his opinion. "I do not know how old I am, I may grow old before you. I may have already grown old and kept alive by some unknown spell." "I don't believe the latter. I've seen your aura, there’s no necromancy or spellcraft there" She has a point. "More importantly, it matters not if you grow old before me. Unless we are on a ship I will always be cooking for you." "I wouldn't ask you to come to land to look after me in old age. Wow, this conversation has turned melancholic. Anyway, it's something we don't have to worry about for at least a hundred and something years. I'm probably not going to live that long" She kisses him briefly, it’s soft and it brings a tingling sensation to his lips. Someone knocks and she pulls away instantly. "Food!"

Amy dons his shirt again to answer the door, Ash's empty plate in hand. Two maids usher in with wine and an overladen plate. They both seem uncomfortable with his nudity and are trying not to look at him. He expected they would be used to it by now. "This is more than I anticipated, I hate to waste food. Are you hungry enough to manage more than half?" The maids falter at his words and Amy automatically takes over, "Place it on the dresser please. Thank you for the wine. If it isn't too much trouble, could you wait a couple of hours before bringing the dessert? It seems my husband is full" The maids do as she says without a word and curtsey before leaving the room, Amy turns around. "Ash! Please wait till they've left the room before you start talking badly about the food" He doesn't understand all these protocols, it irritates him. "I said there is a lot of it. It is no comment on its quality." "I know. But to them it sounds like a passive aggressive jibe. It's fine. Don't worry. Just eat what you want. The rest will likely be given to the serving staff. Nothing goes to waste." She pours them both a glass of wine and brings his over to the bed. When he takes it she goes to get the platter. The wine is dry and Orisian, made from skinned green grapes. He remembers that Eard put an embargo on this white wine in his early days on The Red Reaver. They would do smuggling runs every so often and get a small share of the wine. It brings back memories of those days on the deck sailing through rocky waters in the dead of night, tense but not unpleasant memories.

The plate contains a salad with lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, cucumber and various other fruits. Ash always enjoyed salad, a rarity on a ship due to its perishability, he picks up a handful, forgoing the cutlery, and starts eating. Amy smells a pepper before moving them all away from the food she wants, a look of disgust on her face. She must associate it with the ones he collected on the mountain, though that’s a lowland pepper and has no heat. "It is not like the other peppers. It will not burn you." "You didn't think the last one would be so bad either. It smells similar. I don't like it." She picks up a piece of cucumber and smells it before frowning again. "It taints everything it touches" No wonder she can’t cook, Amy has obviously no concept of the basics of the interactions of flavour. "It adds flavour to the whole dish, I will exchange the peppers for my dessert." "You don't want your dessert?” She drops the cucumber with her face scrunched up with distaste. “We don't have to exchange, I'm not eating them full stop." Ash is trying to be nice, he has observed people being nice and this is one of his attempts at replicating it. He guesses that, from Amy’s reaction, it didn’t work. He’ll continue to learn how to do it until he gets it right. "Do you not want my dessert?" "Well… maybe" Nice is hard. "Yes or no?" "Yes, but only if you don't want it.” She says very quickly before smiling broadly at him, “You don't even know what it is" "I will probably not want it anyway. I cannot eat as much as you."

Amy shrugs, picking up a bit of lettuce and smelling it before putting it back and pushing the platter towards Ash, for someone who loves food she can be picky "Your species is slower, it makes sense you don't eat very much. I think. Mannistone doesn't eat much either." Ash thinks back to all the times she has returned to him thin and malnourished, the fact that she loves eating copious amounts of food makes it even more remarkable that Amy puts herself in these situations. "You can eat, I would not want you to be sad." He makes a mental note, when she is with him and there is food plentiful to make sure she is always well-fed. Ash thinks he does that anyway, but now it will always be forethought. "I'm not sad. I have everything I could want here." She is satisfied, a worry he's always had is being unable to satisfy her. His life is relatively quiet and she is always putting herself in danger. Amy says she’s doing it for her friend but Ash suspects she would be bored otherwise, a feeling he has become accustomed to over the last two years. "Except without the peppers." "Nah, the peppers make you like it more. If you're happy, I'm happy." She gives him her easy coming smile. He uses that smile like gulls, when you see it you are close to home.