#and tom lights up like a christmas tree around henry

[martianbugsbunny]

Downton Abbey au where Tom is so obsessed w getting Mary to marry Henry Talbot bc he's actually in love w Tom himself

[cosmic-has-moved]

Rehired [Chapter 5]

Ao3 Version: [HERE]

[Note: Chapter was waaaay to long, so I made Allison's POV bit a separate chapter so I wouldn't have to worry about it being too much and saving me from reading a long ass page.

And the next chapter is STILL long...]

Allison's POV

Awaking from the repeated beeping of her alarm clock and turning it off, Allison sat up from her bed and gave herself a stretch before forcing herself out of her bed.

Her morning schedule was normal, at least to her. Get up, have breakfast, wash up, get dressed, water her plants and leave to go to work.

As she started her morning schedule by cooking up a plate of scrambled eggs, Allison poured herself a nice cup of coffee and began eating while reading the newspaper. 

Suddenly her home phone rang which made Allison dropped her things and answered it, "Hello? Allison Pendle speaking."

The woman's eyes light up and a wide smile grew on her face upon hearing the voice at the other end, her ex lover. 

"Tom! Long time no talk." She playfully twirled the phone cord with her finger. "I know it's only been a few day, I just like hearing your voice is all."

"I hope your job isn't pushing you too hard, working on all those machines must be exhausting."

She leaned against the kitchen bench, "It's my job to worry, Tom. We're both not young anymore, especially after working with you know who."

"Hm? You want to know how my works going? Is this your way of changing the subject again?" She smiled, "But I guess you're right, I always ask you how your work is going and barely talk about mine."

"You know that girl I told you about? The employee of the month one?" She rolled her eyes and laughed, "Yes, the one that has a crush on Susie, you should really stop calling her that by the way. I know she would boss you around back at the old studio."

Allison blinked in confusion, "What do you mean is it really a crush? The girl lights up like a red themed Christmas tree whenever Susie touches her, granted I have noticed she has a bit of the same reaction when I." She stopped herself and frowned in thought as a small blush appeared on her cheeks, "... Kissed her."

She cocked her brows and crossed her arm, "That better not have been a hum of interest, Tom. And no, there was no tongue! I only did it to see if it was just her questioning her sexuality!" She huffed, "I did feel bad about it but she really didn't seem to mind at all, even mentioned she wanted to do it again, she just wished it was Susie's lips." 

A chuckle escaped her mouth, "And what do you mean by that? You implying my lips turned her gay? Honey, she's gayer than that Wally guy you worked for and I know how much you hate it when I mention that incident with you two." She grinned and scoffed. "How can I tell? There was quite a hot day the other day and the fans were broken, so a lot of the workers, who mind you are rather cute, took their shirts off to ease the heat. Audrey's eyes were still locked onto Susie because she was wearing a short skirt and she tied up her shirt below her chest, she even ignored all the flirts she was getting from the guys."

"And I'm pretty sure the girl kept glancing at her chest." She hummed out a giggle before frowning. "How do I still remember her outfit? I just have a rather good memory. Like that time you had Wally bent over in front of you in the studio closet." She began laughing loudly and smacking her leg. 

"Don't blame me for knowing, blame yourself for getting caught by Henry." She sighed happily while playing with the phone cord. "Hm? She's only in her 20s, she's still got a lot of life to play with and no parents to worry about."

"Her family life? I can't really say, she has mentioned to me that she was in the orphanage for as long as she could remember, she has discovered who her father was but that's as far as I'll say." Allison stood up straight and began thinking, "You don't think that Audrey's been starved of a loving touch, do you?" 

The woman cupped her mouth while frowning at the ground in thought, "It is possible that Susie being all touchy and flirty could've sparked that need for her." She groaned while rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Why didn't I think of that? I'm working today anyway so I'll ask her about it, thank you, Tom."

She lifted her head up in surprise and blushed more, "I am not going to have a chance at her if Susie rejects her! Geez, Tom! I'm not that kind of person! Quit your laughing" She let out a sigh. "You and your dirty mind."

"..." Allison smiled softly, "I miss you too, Tom. I still wish to know why you wanted to separate, but I know you have your reasons."

Her expression shifted to one of sadness, "You have to go? The boat is leaving soon?" She bit her lip and sighed, "Okay, I'll speak to you soon, Tom. I-" She went to say more but the line was cut off, leaving nothing by the long digital rumbling in her ear before she put the phone back on its base. 

"I love you..."

Rubbing her eyes and giving herself a deep breath, Miss Pendle resumed her morning schedule before heading to work.

She had wanted to know how Audrey's confession went yesterday and know if she even did so. She had hoped it went well.

___

Allison stood at the doorway of where Audrey worked, her chipper mood changed to that of concern as the artist sat at her desk emotionless.

Ohhhh no, something wasn't right.

Walking up to her and taking a seat next to her with a soft smile, Allison began speaking.

"How you doing, Audrey? Did you speak to Susie or did you get cold feet?" The older woman tried to lighten up the mood, "If that's the case, I got some wool socks to help." She laughed softly.

"She said I reminded her of my father." Audrey muttered out, immediately tensing up Allison uncomfortably.

"Well." Allison nervously smiled, "At least that wasn't the worst thing she could've said, right?"

Stopping her work and turning her head to the other, Audrey just stared at her with the same blank expression, Allison could've sworn there was a hint of red to them.

"That wasn't the worst thing she said, right?" Miss Pendle asked again, more nervousness in her voice.

Audrey continued staring at her before speaking up again, "She tore up the letter and said she only used me for her entertainment." She bluntly said as Allison stared in wide eyed shock before going back to work, "Now I would like to have some time alone, thank you for your concerns though."

Allison tried to speak and say something but nothing other than stammering came out, clearing her throat and getting up off the chair. "I am so sorry to hear that, Audrey. If you need someone to talk to about it, I'm-"

"I'm fine" The girl cut in with a concealed tone of anger, "Please, let me do my job." Her hand holding her pencil trembled, but not of rage.

Quietening herself from speaking, Allison held her hands for a moment in thought. She thought about what Tom had mentioned in their conversation and the high possibility of it, she had to know. 

"Was it really a crush, Audrey?" 

Halting her work and looking back at the older woman with a frustrated puzzled look, Audrey just questioned her which opened up for Allison to continue. 

"I've had a thought today about you and your possible liking towards Susie." Allison cleared her throat. "There are cases I know of where people who grew up in difficult households without getting any sort of affection from their guardians, they tend to latch onto a person who gives them a certain type of affection."

"What are you implying, Allison?" Audrey cut in, the tone in her voice almost startling Miss Pendle. 

"What I'm trying to say is, perhaps the way Susie has been touchy with you somewhat sparked up that desire of love your caregivers failed to you."

Audrey stared at her squinted in deep thought, her expression being difficult for Allison to fully pin point. The girl shifted her face to look down with confliction, her hands rubbing her arms. 

"That's not right." Audrey quietly spoke, the tone of distaste still there. "That wouldn't explain why I would dream of her..." She held her head and leaned down. 

"Dream?" Allison questioned, "What kind of dreams have you been having of her?" She already knew what the answer could be, she just wanted to be sure. 

The artist bit her lip upon the question, she couldn't lie now that she mentioned it. Maybe opening about it could help Allison give Audrey an answer, perhaps it really wasn't a crush. 

"I've had my first wet dream about her the other night and they continued afterwards, only they became more." She lifted her head up and stared at the therapist. "Vivid."

As she finished her sentence she sat up straight and sighed, "But after yesterday, she hadn't appeared in my dream." She bit her lip in quiet frustration. "Yet I still had trouble sleeping, despite her haunting my dreams being one of the reasons I could barely sleep." 

Allison pondered on the small information Audrey had given her, she wanted to know more but she still wanted to keep it short for the girl. 

"How do you feel about her now?" 

The question seemed to shock Audrey for some reason, she glanced down in thought and looked to the side with a mixed emotion. 

"I feel nothing. I usually feel fluttery even by thinking of her, but I just feel." Her lips quivered and her hand covered her mouth. "Nothing, and it hurts."

Allison went to hold her in reassurance but stopped and just held out a hand for her to hold, and Audrey hesitantly went to hold it but swiftly moved her hand back. 

"I appreciate the talking, but I want to go back to work and not think about it..." Audrey sniffled and turned to her desk, avoiding anymore eye contact with Allison. 

Going to speak but stopping herself, Allison sighed and patted Audrey's shoulder before leaving her be, being sure to close the door behind her to give her more privacy. 

As she walked down the hallways of the studio her sympathy slowly turned to that of anger, she decided to go looking for Susie herself to at least know why she had to be so cruel in response. Miss Pendle knew only one place the actress would be, and she was right. 

Sitting in her recording booth with only a small light illuminating the small box was Susie Campbell, the curtain was down but the woman's outfit through the gaps confirmed her presence. 

After marching over to the booth and kicking the door open, startling the actress enough for her to turn while stopping what she was doing and look at Allison wide eyed as she got closer. Susie was quick to cover what she was doing on the desk, but that didn't matter to Allison at the moment. 

"A simple soft let down wasn't enough?" Allison's tone caused Susie to freeze in place, "You had to take painful jabs at her?!" She threw her hands up in disbelief. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN THAT, SUSIE!" 

Miss Campbell shifted her arms on the table as a look of great regret and surprise formed on her face, "She told you? About the letter?" The crack in her voice made Allison blink out of her angry state and see what Susie was working on.

There on the desk was Audrey's torn letter, bits of it badly put together with tape while the other pieces laid in a small pile waiting to be put back together. 

"I only did it because I thought she would leave me alone." Susie added, "It was last minute thinking and I thought if I was harsh about it, she would lose interest in me and she'll forget about it! I panicked because I had that moment of realization that I was acting like Joey!" 

"Susie." The taller woman stared down at her, not hiding her disappointment. "That's not how you deal with a situation such as that, you of all people know that. You even told me that you had no problem with Audrey's relations to Joey."

"I know!" Burying her face in her hands, Susie stifled what sounded like a sob. "I didn't think she'll have feelings for me, I only saw her as a cute timid girl who needed that certain push to be more confident. I had this interest in her for some reason and she just reminded me of someone I once knew, yet I couldn't put my tongue on it."

Lowering her head to the table, she rested on her arms. "But than I saw that god damn pin that belonged to Joey and it all just hit me, I finally figured out my fascination with her." She turned her gaze to Allison, tears visible. "I lied about not having a problem with their relationship, of course I have a problem with it. It's like it's his way of saying to me that he'll forever haunt me, even after death."

Allison who now sat next to her with the same look of displeasure, "Audrey is nothing like her father, far from it." She looked over at the pieces of paper and began putting them together. "I know not of you and Joey's past relationship, but I wouldn't take it out on her especially considering she only recently found out he was her father."

Susie lifted her head up and sniffled, "And how do you know so much? You only ever mentioned yesterday that you only know who her dad was, unless you also lied." She flinched upon Allison snapping a glare at her. 

"It is not my business to spread around people's personal lives, Campbell." Miss Pendle resumed her task. "All I will say is that what you want to know, you ask her yourself." 

Sheepishly watching her fix up the letter while twiddling her thumbs, Susie asked "She's usually quiet about such things, how did you know?" 

Letting out a sigh, Allison answered. "I proofread the letter for her, it was my idea since I knew it'll be easier than to try to say it vocally. If I had known you would be like that, I wouldn't have encouraged her." 

Wincing at the comment, she asked another question. "How was she when you saw her?" 

Allison slowly looked at her, a look of displeased sadness all over her face. "You'll have to see for yourself." She looked back down at the letter and finished it. "Did you know that she's been losing sleep because of you." 

 

Without giving Susie a chance to react, Allison pushed the letter to the other's chest and stood up off the chair. "Come into my office later tonight and talk to her, I'll be sure she'll be there." She stepped away, "We're both adults here, don't screw it up." That's when she left the booth and closed the door, leaving the actress alone with her thoughts. 

Allison's POV End

[daimonclub]

The Christmas Tree

Christmas tree legends The Christmas Tree, an article that explains its legend, origin and tradition, with some enlightening merry quotes to enrich the great value of the Christmas period. Snowflakes felt so awesome in winter season. There is a main figure in Christmas known as Santa Claus. And the main theme of Christmas is jingle bell, a very famous tune known all other the world. People use this tune a lot all over the Christmas event, and it feels so good like something very positive that will bring peace and happiness in our lives. Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree. T. S. Eliot It is curious to what a degree one may become attached to a fine tree, especially when it is placed where trees are rare. Christian Nestell Bovee The Christmas tree is the dot on the i. Frank Taylor The trees that bud and blossom forth, Throughout the world from south to north, Are tokens that a life will bloom When manhood's passed beyond the tomb. T. Augustus Forbes Leith Three things are needed to make a Christmas tree: ornaments, the tree and faith in the future. Armenian proverb I stone got crazy when I saw somebody run down them strings with a bottleneck. My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and I said that I had to learn. Muddy Waters My beer-drenched soul is sadder than all the dead Christmas trees in the world. Charles Bukowski He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree. Roy L. Smith It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters, it’s who’s around it. Charlie Brown A Christian should resemble a fruit tree with real fruit, not a Christmas tree with decorations tied on. John Stott The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other. Burton Hillis

Christmas tree origins I grew up with a Christmas tree, I’m going to stay with a Christmas tree. Thomas Menino The perfect Christmas tree, all Christmas trees are perfect. Charles N. Barnard Some Christmas tree ornaments do more than glitter and glow, they represent a gift of love given a long time ago. Tom Baker The Christmas tree is beautiful only when it is finished and when the lights can be turned on, the crib is not, the crib is beautiful when you do it or even when you think about it. Luciano De Crescenzo Taking down the Christmas tree makes it feel official: time to get back to joyless and cynical. Greg Fitzsimmons I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It’s not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love. Linus Van Pelt What will we find under the Christmas tree this year? Oh my God, I think the roots! Carl William Brown Glittering tinsel, lights, glass balls, and candy canes dangle from pine trees. Richelle E. Goodrich The best Christmas trees come very close to exceeding nature. Andy Rooney There is new life in the soil for every man. There is healing in the trees for tired minds and for our overburdened spirits, there is strength in the hills, if only we will lift up our eyes. Remember that nature is your great restorer. Calvin Coolidge The earth reminded us of a Christmas tree ornament hanging in the blackness of space. As we got farther and farther away it diminished in size. Finally it shrank to the size of a marble, the most beautiful marble you can imagine. James Irwin Christmas tree stands are the work of the devil and they want you dead. Bill Bryson Look at a tree, a flower, a plant. Let your awareness rest upon it. How still they are, how deeply rooted in Being. Allow nature to teach you stillness. Eckhart Tolle He that planteth a tree is the servant of God, He provideth a kindness for many generations, And faces that he hath not seen shall bless him. Henry Van Dyke

Christmas tree quotes Now I’m an old Christmas tree, the roots of which have died. They just come along and while the little needles fall off me replace them with medallions. Orson Welles Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 25 feet tall. Larry Wilde They’ve got plastic Christmas trees now. They’re hard to tell from the real aluminum ones. Milton Berle I was only kicking down the Christmas tree to get the star on top. Ray Bradbury I don’t know what I believe. I guess that makes me a christmas tree agnostic. Stephanie Perkins Only look what is still on the ugly old Christmas tree!" said he, trampling on the branches, so that they all cracked beneath his feet. And the Tree beheld all the beauty of the flowers, and the freshness in the garden; he beheld himself, and wished he had remained in his dark corner in the loft; he thought of his first youth in the woods, of the merry Christmas Eve, and of the little Mice who had listened with so much pleasure to the story of Klumpy-Dumpy. Hans Christian Andersen A Christmas tree, the perfect gift for a guy. The plant is already dead. Jay Leno The Christmas tree, twinkling with lights, had a mountain of gifts piled up beneath it, like offerings to the great god of excess. Tess Gerritsen A dog looking at a lit Christmas tree thinks: they finally put the light in the toilet. Romano Bertola Christmas trees don’t grow on trees; they need rainbows, lumberjacks, and Leprechauns on unicorns playing jock jams on glockenspiels. Ryan Ross Make your plate look like a Christmas tree, I tell people, mostly green with splashes of other bright colors. Victoria Moran There’s no experience quite like cutting your own live Christmas tree out of your neighbor’s yard. Dan Florence

True natural Christmas trees The smell of pine needles, spruce and the smell of a Christmas tree, those to me, are the scents of the holidays. Blake Lively Christmas is a very enjoyable event ever. It is a great feast for everyone. Kids, adults and grandparents. Everyone enjoy this occasion very much. Parents give presents to their children and this brings happiness in their hearts. An enormous amount of joy comes through this period which is a real gem for us. Therefore how could we avoid talking of one of the main symbol of this religious celebration, which is certainly the Christmas Tree, so let's read about its fascinating history. The Christmas tree today is a common custom to most of us. There are many interesting connections to ancient traditions such as Egyptian and Roman customs, early Christian practices, and Victorian nostalgia. However, most scholars point to Germany as being the origin of the Christmas tree. Long before the advent of Christianity, plants and trees that remained green all year had a special meaning for people in the winter. Just as people today decorate their homes during the festive season with pine, spruce, and fir trees, ancient peoples hung evergreen boughs over their doors and windows. In many countries it was believed that evergreens would keep away witches, ghosts, evil spirits, and illness. In the Northern hemisphere, the shortest day and longest night of the year falls on December 21 or December 22 and is called the winter solstice. Many ancient people believed that the sun was a god and that winter came every year because the sun god had become sick and weak. They celebrated the solstice because it meant that at last the sun god would begin to get well. Evergreen boughs reminded them of all the green plants that would grow again when the sun god was strong and summer would return. The ancient Egyptians worshipped a god called Ra, who had the head of a hawk and wore the sun as a blazing disk in his crown. At the solstice, when Ra began to recover from his illness, the Egyptians filled their homes with green palm rushes, which symbolized for them the triumph of life over death.

Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree Early Romans marked the solstice with a feast called Saturnalia in honor of Saturn, the god of agriculture. The Romans knew that the solstice meant that soon, farms and orchards would be green and fruitful. To mark the occasion, they decorated their homes and temples with evergreen boughs. In Northern Europe the mysterious Druids, the priests of the ancient Celts, also decorated their temples with evergreen boughs as a symbol of everlasting life. The fierce Vikings in Scandinavia thought that evergreens were the special plant of the sun god, Balder. One of the earliest stories relating back to Germany is about Saint Boniface. In 722, he encountered some pagans who were about to sacrifice a child at the base of a huge oak tree. He cut down the tree to prevent the sacrifice and a Fir tree grew up at the base of the oak. He then told everyone that this lovely evergreen, with its branches pointing to heaven, was a holy tree - the tree of the Christ child, and a symbol of His promise of eternal life. Germany is credited with starting the Christmas tree tradition as we now know it in the 16th century when devout Christians brought decorated trees into their homes. Some built Christmas pyramids of wood and decorated them with evergreens and candles if wood was scarce. Another story tells that perhaps it was Martin Luther responsible for the origin of the Christmas tree. This story says that one Christmas Eve, about the year 1500, he was walking through the snow-covered woods and was struck by the beauty of the snow glistened trees. Their branches, dusted with snow, shimmered in the moon light. When he got home, he set up a small fir tree and shared the story with his children. He decorated the Christmas tree with small candles, which he lighted in honor of Christ's birth. Another legend says that in the early 16th century, people in Germany combined two customs that had been practiced in different countries around the globe. The Paradise tree (a fir tree decorated with apples) represented the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden.

Christmas tree in Rio de Janeiro The Christmas Light, a small, pyramid-like frame, usually decorated with glass balls, tinsel and a candle on top, was a symbol of the birth of Christ as the Light of the World. Changing the tree’s apples to tinsel balls and cookies and combining this new tree with the light placed on top, the Germans created the tree that many of us know today. In the 1840s and 50s, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert popularized the Christmas tree in England. Prince Albert decorated a tree and ever since that time, the English, because of their love for their Queen, copied her Christmas customs including the Christmas tree and ornaments. An engraving of the Royal Family celebrating Christmas at Windsor was published in 1848 and their German traditions were copied and adapted. Another story about the origin of the Christmas tree says that late in the Middle Ages, Germans and Scandinavians placed evergreen trees inside their homes or just outside their doors to show their hope that spring would soon come. Most 19th-century Americans found Christmas trees an oddity. The first record of one being on display was in the 1830s by the German settlers of Pennsylvania, although trees had been a tradition in many German homes much earlier. The Pennsylvania German settlements had community trees as early as 1747. But, as late as the 1840s Christmas trees were seen as pagan symbols and not accepted by most Americans. It is not surprising that, like many other festive Christmas customs, the tree was adopted so late in America. To the New England Puritans, Christmas was sacred. The pilgrims’s second governor, William Bradford, wrote that he tried hard to stamp out "pagan mockery" of the observance, penalizing any frivolity. The influential Oliver Cromwell preached against "the heathen traditions" of Christmas carols, decorated trees, and any joyful expression that desecrated "that sacred event." In 1659, the General Court of Massachusetts enacted a law making any observance of December 25 (other than a church service) a penal offense; people were fined for hanging decorations. That stern solemnity continued until the 19th century, when the influx of German and Irish immigrants undermined the Puritan legacy. The early 20th century saw Americans decorating their trees mainly with homemade ornaments, while the German-American sect continued to use apples, nuts, and marzipan cookies. Popcorn joined in after being dyed bright colors and interlaced with berries and nuts. Electricity brought about Christmas lights, making it possible for Christmas trees to glow for days on end. With this, Christmas trees began to appear in town squares across the country and having a Christmas tree in the home became an American tradition.

Christmas tree best wishes Research into customs of various cultures shows that greenery was often brought into homes at the time of the winter solstice. It symbolized life in the midst of death in many cultures. The Romans were known to deck their homes with evergreens during of Kalends of January 15. Living trees were also brought into homes during the old Germany feast of Yule, which originally was a two month feast beginning in November. The Yule tree was planted in a tub and brought into the home. But there is no evidence that the Christmas tree is a direct descendent of the Yule tree. Evidence does point to the Paradise tree however. This story goes back to the 11th century religious plays. One of the most popular was the Paradise Play. The play depicted the story of the creation of Adam and Eve, their sin, and their banishment from Paradise. The only prop on the stage was the Paradise tree, a fir tree adorned with apples. The play would end with the promise of the coming Savior and His Incarnation. The people had grown so accustomed to the Paradise tree, that they began putting their own Paradise tree up in their homes on December 24. Christmas trees have been sold commercially in the United States since about 1850. In 1979, the National Christmas Tree was not lighted except for the top ornament. This was done in honor of the American hostages in Iran. The tallest living Christmas tree is believed to be the 122-foot, 91-year-old Douglas fir in the town of Woodinville, Washington. The Rockefeller Center Christmas tree tradition began in 1933. Franklin Pierce, the 14th president, brought the Christmas tree tradition to the White House. In 1923, President Calvin Coolidge started the National Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony now held every year on the White House lawn. Since 1966, the National Christmas Tree Association has given a Christmas tree to the President and first family. Most Christmas trees are cut weeks before they get to a retail outlet. In 1912, the first community Christmas tree in the United States was erected in New York City. Christmas trees generally take six to eight years to mature. Christmas trees are grown in all 50 states including Hawaii and Alaska. 90 percent of all Christmas trees are grown on farms. More than 1,000,000 acres of land have been planted with Christmas trees. On average, over 2,000 Christmas trees are planted per acre. You should never burn your Christmas tree in the fireplace. It can contribute to creosote buildup. Other types of trees such as cherry and hawthorns were used as Christmas trees in the past. Thomas Edison’s assistants came up with the idea of electric lights for Christmas trees. In 1963, the National Christmas Tree was not lit until December 22nd because of a national 30-day period of mourning following the assassination of President Kennedy. Teddy Roosevelt banned the Christmas tree from the White House for environmental reasons. On the contrary the 2020 Christmas Tree is an 18 ½ foot Fraser Fir from West Virginia. It will serve as a centerpiece for Christmas decorations in the Blue Room of the White House. The White House Christmas Tree must stand 18-19 feet tall and reach the ceiling of the Blue Room, where the chandelier is removed each holiday season to accommodate the tree. And last but not least, if you want to choose the perfect Christmas tree visit the website of The American Christmas Tree Association (ACTA) which is a non-profit organization established to help families create holiday memories and build traditions by choosing the perfect Christmas tree. www.christmastreeassociation.org/ Instead if you need a good short story for your children about Christmas or the Christmas tree, you can find many of them at this link: https://americanliterature.com/author/hans-christian-andersen/short-story/the-fir-tree Top 10 Tallest Christmas Trees in The World Read also our other posts on Christmas  ; Christmas quotes ; 60 great Christmas quotes ; Christmas tree origin and quotes ;  Traditional Christmas Carols ; Christmas jokes ; Christmas markets in England ; Christmas cracker jokes ; Christmas food ; Christmas thoughts ; Read the full article

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Four

(Gif's not my own.) 

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

-It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

-This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

-English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

-Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

-Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

-Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Four starts after the cut. (Chapter Three can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Four

Chapter warnings: PTSD, angst (or as much angst as I’ll ever write), couple’s fight, outdated expectations of marriage (is that even a warning?), mentions of masturbation.

This chapter is a little different from the previous ones and it’s stitched together weirdly. Also, there’s no smut (which is unusual for me!), but Chapter 5 will be more humorous and lighthearted.

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“When’s your next leave?” Harper asked from behind the wheel, knowing better than to take his eyes off the sand road. He had been transferred to the Special Forces after the whole water pumping station incident, with Sy’s approval.

They were at the very back of the convoy, like always. It was the only way Sy was able to keep all the Humvees in sight and look out for everyone.

“Not sure I’m gonna be seeing home before July.” Sy replied, blue eyes scrunched up as he tried making something, anything out in the darkness surrounding them. Doing this scouting mission at night hadn’t been his idea, but the order had come from higher up and it was when the guards were at their lowest.

Harper smiled, a short huff escaping his chest. “Ah yes! What are you going do once you’re home for good?” The soldier asked, the tiniest hint of teasing in his voice. “Give your wife a small army of Texan babies?”

Sy scoffed, his chest shaking beneath the heavy protective vest. “Eyes on the road, soldier.”

“Yes, captain.” Harper chuckled even as he obeyed the command.

The rest of the drive went by in silence. The whole point of doing it at night was to be unseen and unheard. Confirm it was an armory so that an airstrike could later destroy it. Quick and easy.

Sy absentmindedly rubbed his finger through the thick glove, trying to feel the wedding band beneath. He never took the thing off, but it still somehow eased his mind to make sure it was there – make sure she was there across the ocean. They had talked on the phone the night before and he could still hear her shriek as she stubbed her toe on the doorframe whilst pacing around the house as she spoke to him. She wanted to order new tires for his pickup truck because she was afraid the current ones would be expired once he got back. He told her not to worry about any of that, but she insisted and then asked about Aika, changing subjects. No matter what they talked about, he always slept better after hearing her voice.

The landscape changed ever so slightly. They were there, right outside the deserted town’s walls. Sy gave everyone the order to pull up and get ready. It was only when he stepped out of the Humvee, his feet landing swiftly on the soft sand and the cold night’s air hitting his face, that he realized that Sy had been there already. He was dreaming again.

He had been there hundreds of times, taken the same steps, given the same orders and run away from the same explosion. After having the same nightmare night after night, the shock and the surprise element had lessened, but the dread remained unchanged. Sy was cursed to relive the same scene again and again, for moments even wondering if he lacked imagination so much that his mind was unable to come up with anything else.

Still, every night, he'd try changing the outcome, attempt to take control of his past self and make different decisions: refuse the mission, take a different team, catch Lieutenant Wilkins before he had a chance to run into the trap. It never worked. The result was always the same with him shouting for everyone to retreat and grabbing on to the back of Wilkins' uniform, trying to drag him out of the building, unsuccessfully. Then the telltale detonation followed, the building shook and they were thrown backwards with the explosion. When Sy landed on the concrete, there was a corpse - or what remained of it - on top of him. It was what had shielded him from the worst.

He once tried to warn Wilkins about the child's voice asking for help, to tell him it was a trap and that they needed to ignore it, but he was unable to speak. They were there, on the exact spot, a large room right down the stairs with no windows or lights, only three parted doors. Unlike the first time, the real time, he knew what was about to happen, through what door the grenade would be thrown out of before rolling on the dusty ground. And he went through it all over again.

It was the noise that alerted him the first time, the impact as it hit ground and then the rolling sound on the uneven surface.

"Retreat!" Sy heard his own voice shout loud enough for the rest of the team behind them to hear, then an echo of hurried, heavy footsteps followed.

He knew what happened then. Sy waited for the faint, unidentifiable cry for help and for Wilkins to blindly bolt towards the voice, the grenade.  He knew he'd unable to stop him this time just like all the others. What was the point of making him relive the same failure over and over again?

"Help!"

Sy froze on the spot, unlike all the other previous nights. This time it was not a random infantile voice. It was Ada's. She was crying out for help, for him.

This time it was him who dashed after the voice, the grenade exploding before he could reach her.

°°°

Ada thought that they had dodged the bullet, that they had somehow managed to avoid all the stuff she had crammed her head with when she had found out Sy was retiring from active combat sooner than expected. The notes she had taken, the websites she had visited, the therapists she had researched and ranked according to online reviews; she had started to think none of these would come in handy. Apart from that small incident when grocery shopping and the whole thing with Tom, Sy was okay, they were okay. Or so she thought.

It only took maybe eight days of Sy being back home to find out that wasn't true. It was almost like when you took a plane and fly halfway across the globe. The first days you’d eat dinner at 3am and go to bed three hours later and nothing felt real. Then it settled in. But this wasn't a spontaneous holiday or a mid-life crisis, this was an honorable discharge. Sy wasn't leaving behind an unsatisfying career, he was leaving the war.

He came home. They reunited, caught up with each other, basked in other's presence. Ada had to keep reminding herself that she could fall asleep at night without the anxiety of feeling like she was wasting away his leave with something as frivolous as sleep.

Only sleep wasn't frivolous, Ada soon came to realize. Sy slept well the first few nights back home. The exhaustion helped, so did sex. Sy would kiss her, roll over, pull her into his arms and fall right asleep after it.

That changed quickly. On the eight night, she woke up to pee hours before dawn only to find his side of the bed empty. She found him downstairs playing on his new console. It was the jetlag that made him unable to sleep, he said. Ada knew better, even as she acquiesced.

The following night, after making love and taking care of her, Sy didn't even bother pretending he was going to bed. "I won't be able to sleep anyways and I don't want to keep you up," he claimed, putting on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before going out for a run. It was past midnight.

After going two days with barely shutting his eyes, Sy did finally fall asleep in bed with her. Ninety minutes later, he was awake again.

"You okay?" Ada groaned softly, forcing her eyes open but it was too dark to see anything. She had woken up with his tossing and turning.

"Yeah, just go back to sleep," Sy replied dismissively, turning on his side and facing the window away from her.

Ada was about to do just that, believing his words in her incoherent sleepiness, when her hand touched his clammy back. He had managed to sweat through his t-shirt, but his skin remained icy.

"You're not okay," she whispered to herself before switching on her small bedside lamp and sitting up.

"I told you to go back to sleep, Ada," Sy protested, still facing away from her.

She shook her head softly and tried to pull him into her arms, but he was too heavy, and she couldn't move him without his help. "If something's wrong, you can tell me, you know."

She waited in silence for him to answer, to say something, anything at all. She had planned on watching podcasts, meeting with veterans and whatever she could do to help, but Sy had come home several months earlier than planned and she didn't know what to do, what was expected of her as a wife, as his partner, as his support person.

"Alright, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," she attempted quietly, sliding back into bed and moving in behind him, doing her best to be the big spoon for once. "We can just cuddle until you fall asleep."

Apparently, that turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Sy jumped out of bed as if her touch had burnt him. "I'm not a fucking child, Ada. I don't need your cuddles."

She flinched at his tone, taking a deep breath but her voice still came out strangled. "I was not implying you were a child, Sy. I just thought - no - I just hoped that you would find some comfort with me," she admitted but he was already getting dressed, sweaty skin and all. "Clearly I was wrong."

His face was red behind his full beard. He was pissed, she could almost feel him buzzing as he tried to restrain his anger and not - she didn't know what he was keeping himself from doing. Whatever it was, Ada was sure his next words hurt just as much as whatever he was initially going to do.

"I don't need you to fucking comfort me, woman!" He spat out, putting on a pair of boots. "I don't need anyone's help and certainly not my wife's!"

With that, he marched to the bedroom door, forcefully throwing it open. "I'm going out for air. Don't wait up for me."

They barely saw each other the next day. Sy texted that he was going to spend some time with his mom. Still hurt and offended, even though she knew this was not about her, Ada left for the day without telling him her whereabouts.

She took her car and drove to the animal shelter to help out. No one was expecting her there, but they gave her some work to do and it did help her feel better for a couple hours at least. But it was barely noon when she was done and she refused to go home, meeting up with friends instead. None of them asked why she wasn't at home practically glued to Sy. They were used to their friend pretty much vanishing off the face of the Earth whenever Sy came home for two or three weeks, but they were wise enough not to question it.

His words had stung. Ada was aware he had been mad, and that people always said dumb stuff when they were mad, but she did find some truth in his words. Why would he need her comfort? Her help? Or even a wife at all?

Sy had lived thirty-three years without knowing her and then three more married to her but living continents' apart. He could command soldiers, lead missions, plan attacks and whatever it was that he also did back in Iraq. The house was his, his mom would be overjoyed to cook for him and do his laundry again if he didn’t want to do it himself and Ada didn't kid herself - if he wanted sex, all he had to do was walk into a bar.

So, technically speaking, she knew Sy didn't need her. He was a grown ass man who could survive on his own better than ninety-nine percent of the population. What had hurt her was that he didn't want her, nor her help or her comfort. And if he didn't want her to try and make his life a lil' bit better, what was even the point.  Ada didn't know and all the cocktails she consumed didn't provide an answer either, but they did end up forcing her to eat almost her own weight in food to soak up all the alcohol before driving back home at ten.

She was still fishing out her keys to open the front door, when Sy pulled it open with so much force, it almost flew off its hinges.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Sy shouted as soon as she set a foot inside.

"I was out with friends.” Ada took off her shoes by the door. "How's your mom?" She looked up only long enough to find him staring down at her with his thick arms crossed in front of his chest.

"I sent you a dozen texts and called you just as many times, but you never picked up." Oh, his tone had switched to that unsettling calm before the storm.

"I apologize, my phone was on silent," Ada replied. It was true, though she had still noticed his calls and texts. "Look I am tired, and I am going to take a shower." She said before walking upstairs to their bedroom.

To her surprise, Sy followed her up, stopping only at their room’s threshold as if he weren’t allowed inside without her forgiveness. "I am sorry for yesterday," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s okay.” Ada shook her head, undressing rapidly and balling up her dirty clothes to throw them in the hamper. She smelt like a whole bar and she was desperate for a shower.

“I didn’t mean it, what I said,” he added, finally walking inside the room but still keeping his distances.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” She reassured him, disappearing inside the en-suite. This was just a fight. Couples had them all the time. Sy had even apologized. “I am sorry too. For today.”

His voice startled her, Sy was closer than she had expected. “Do you have need for me?” He asked, making her still as she bent down to fetch some fresh towels from the drawer. Did she have need for him? Ada frowned even though he couldn’t see her face. She heard him sigh again behind her.

"I felt useful back in Baqubah. I ran that city, commanded soldiers, gave my country something and then an explosion happens, two of my men die. And you know what they do? They send me home. Not to punish me for fucking up; they send me home because they thought I had witnessed enough shit and deserved an honorable discharge. Whatever the reason, my services weren't needed there anymore."

"Then I come home to my wife, to you, Ada. And you know what?” He asked before providing the answer himself. “The doors don't screech, the mirror has been replaced and my wife doesn’t even need me to take her out on dates or to the movies because she already has someone for that. So really, what's my goddamn purpose here? The house doesn't need me. You don't need me. Even my mother doesn't need me what with her new boyfriend. So why the fuck did I come back?"

He paused and Ada took it as a chance to stand up and face him. She didn’t know what this was. His voice wasn’t loud, he wasn’t shouting, and his posture didn’t appear hostile. They weren’t arguing, this was something different. “That’s not-” Sy cut her off.

"Then, last night, I realize that while you don't need me, I sure as hell need you, Ada. And that's not how I imagined my marriage would be. I should be the provider. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around."

"This is not the 1950s, Sy," Ada chuckled faintly despite herself.

"That don’t matter. It's how I was raised: preside, provide and protect. I don't care about the presiding part; I knew from day one that I'd never be able to boss you around and I didn't want to. But I still very much believe in providing for and protecting what's mine, and instead, you're the one doing that. So, not only did I fail my men back in Iraq, but now I’ve failed you too."

“No. Stop right there.” Ada interrupted him, more forcefully than intended. "Okay, first, you never failed me. Don’t you ever say that.” Sy huffed from his spot by the door, clearly unconvinced but she was determined to get this out. “Second, I... I think you need to stop settling for being needed and instead accept that you are loved, at least by me."

Sy stiffened against the doorframe, his face taking over an unreadable expression beneath his beard. Shit. Did she mess up again? "Did I say something wrong?"

He didn’t reply right away. Ada took a few steps to him when his words took her by surprise. "You said you loved me."

She stopped in her tracks, opening her mouth and closing it again a few times, stammering. Confusion was evident on her face. "Well, yeah."

"You've never said it before," Sy explained, the hint of a smile on his lips.

Ada frowned, a little unsteady on her feet as she thought back. "Are you certain? I'm pretty sure that is what I ended all our phone calls with."

He shook his head. "I meant in person.”

"Oh, I never realized.”

The cold bathroom tile floor was not the place either of them would have picked out under different circumstances, but it was where Sy finally allowed himself to be cuddled into the warmth of her embrace for the first time, his head resting against her naked breast with her slow heartbeat lulling him into a different kind of peace. “I do love you, Sy.”

Ada was no fool, this wouldn’t soothe all his troubles, but for now, it was a start. And that was all she could ask for.

°°°

Sy sat down on the chair in their study. Most walls were covered with Ada’s textbooks from floor to ceiling. He huffed at the sight. If you’d told him five years ago that he’d end up with an academic wife, he’d have laughed in your face. Now, he tested touched the shelves, watching them wobble slightly and decided he ought to build her something sturdier.

First, he had to take care of some administrative bullshit for the new job he'd be starting at Camp Marbry in January. He had always hated bureaucracy but there was no escaping it. He had learned it the hard way as a private. Maybe it was also time he started going through their utilities folders. Ada had taken over all of it when they got married, managing their bank accounts and paying the bills. Sy hadn't taken of that shit in years but he probably should relieve her of some of those chores.

His eyes wandered over to the neatly organized shelves under the office desk, trying to find the correct binder when his attention landed on what appeared to be a fancy silver notebook. Was that the one Tom had mentioned?

Sy knew he shouldn't go through her stuff, but he was curious and it was not like she had hidden it or anything. Ending his hesitation with a shrug, he picked up the notebook only for stray bits of paper to immediately fly out and land on the carpeted floor. "Shit!"

He bent down and gathered them all up quickly in his hand, lest Ada find out he was snooping and chide him like a soldier. He sat back on the chair and started reading through some of the bits and slips of paper he had caught: "shaving gel not cream!", "dog treats (the fancy ones)", "boxer briefs in L"... They were all dated too. Sy figured they were just old shopping lists until he opened the notebook.

The first part appeared to be a logbook of sorts with notes about each and every one of their calls for the past year. Sy went over some of them, grinning despite himself. He never imagined Ada took notes during their weekly phone calls.

"Sy says it's really cold at night in the desert."

"He seems a little down..."

"Aika has a sweet tooth." Damn, he missed that dog!

“Explosion. Two men dead.”

He skipped over the next few pages, remembering it all too well. After the logbook part, came a set of lists, all dated. "The monthly care packages," Sy realized, reading through them and concluding that this was where the bits of paper had fallen from.

All the care package lists were cross-referenced with the calls logbook. Sy had never understood how she always managed to send him exactly what he needed. He wasn't even aware that he had mentioned most of these small things to her. Most of the time, he didn't even understand how she managed to fit so much stuff into those small USPS boxes. Whenever he tried putting everything back in the cardboard box for safekeeping, half of it didn't fit back inside.

He flipped through a few more care packages before landing on a particularly long list. The date was highlighted, it was the package he had received on the month of his birthday. Ada had made him promise not to open it before the 18th. “You can open the box, but I will know if you open the present before your birthday, Sy,” she had warned him on the phone, trying to sound very stern.  “And if you do, I’ll come to Iraq just to whoop your ass.” He had laughed so loudly, Harper had knocked on his door to make sure he was alright.

Sy laughed again as he went over the list, remembering how the private from the deliveries and postal department kept on complaining because packages this big were 'not usually authorized' and that he was getting 'favor treatment' because he was captain and that Ada shouldn't even have been allowed to ship a box exceeding the maximum dimensions. Sy had taken the package from the soldier and asked if he fancied a trip to the infirmary. That had shut him up quickly.

There had been candy (no chocolate because it had melted through its packaging once when she had tried sending him some), gum, the two first James Bond novels, dog treats, a new photo of his niece and nephew, underwear that was way too fancy for him and a handwritten letter from Ada.

What had immediately caught his attention was the very neatly wrapped gift box with a big red bow and a small card that reminded him once more not to open it until his birthday and only when he was alone.

Sy laughed, remembering how giddy he was to open that damn box. They'd gone on a recon mission on his birthday and when they got back, everyone was exhausted and dirty. He had hurried to the showers, cutting off some soldiers and then rushed to his private room to open the gift.

In all his adult life, Sy could only remember blushing three times, two of them the same day. First was when Ada said 'I do’ and he tried sliding the ring on her finger, but nervous and tipsy like he had been, the damn tiny thing slipped off his hand and fell on the carpet. Second was when the limo supposed to bring them back to their hotel was caught up in traffic, and the two of them decided to get it on in the chapel's storage room while another couple was getting married. Not only did they promptly – and accidentally, might he add – knock over all the props, he literally ended up fucking her through the cheap and unstable dry wall. The look on the couple’s face had been priceless!

The third time was on his birthday. Inside the box, he had found a handful of professionally made photos of Ada in lingerie and sometimes not even that much. If that didn't have his mind spinning and his dick throbbing after so many months away, he certainly couldn't believe his eyes when he found a small tube of lube and a transparent fleshlight.

It was not the gift as such that made him blush. The photos had him beyond excited and he was all too eager to try out the fleshlight. No, the embarrassment only settled in afterwards. More specifically when Sy remembered that despite having a private room as a captain, the washrooms where shared and he found himself cleaning the fleshlight in the sink with the little water they had, hoping no one would see him.

"Oh shit!"

Sy jumped in his chair at her voice, he hadn't heard her get home, let alone upstairs.

"Fuck. You weren’t meant to see that, Sy.” Ada babbled, quickly walking up to him with a sheepish look on her face.

Sy smiled, interrupting her as he seized her hips and pulled her down to sit on his lap. "It’s okay, darlin'."

Ada's eyes widened incredulously. "Really? You’re not even mad at me for meeting with a therapist to get advice?"

Sy closed his eyes, nostrils flaring for a moment. Right. Admittedly, he had not yet made it to that part but while he wasn't exactly keen on discussing his private life with strangers, he felt no anger at finding out that Ada had tried to look after him. Her words from last night had somehow made it through his thick skull.

"No, I'm not angry, not even for that. I know you were just trying to-"

Sy opened his eyes again at her silence only to find his wife grinning like the Cheshire cat as she looked at the open page on the notebook.

"You didn't even make it that far, huh?" She chuckled, pointing at the list. "Nope, you were still stuck with that ridiculous birthday gift I gave you!" While her tone was accusatory, Sy could see that she was trying not to burst out laughing.

Rolling his eyes, he pried the notebook from her hands and set it down on the desk. "It was not a ridiculous gift. I kept it all," Sy reassured her, pressing her body closer to his. "Well, not the lube. That was gone in weeks. And the photos are definitely a little used now but-"

Ada kissed him out of the blue, shutting him up. "Sy, I really love you but you're giving me secondhand embarrassment right now."

The bear of a man laughed, holding ever impossibly tighter before kissing her forehead. "I love you too, wife." Then, another thought crossed his mind. “Do you think it’s possible to send a care package to a dog?”

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​

[trashboatprince]

Here is the second part of the little Christmas drabble thing I’m doing for the dad!Henry Beast son!Bendy au.

Time to include two of my favorite characters in this!

On with the fic!

--

Bendy happily looked out the window, waiting impatiently for the guests to arrive.

Earlier in the week, Henry had informed Bendy that they would be having some people visit and stay for Christmas. The giant demon was curious about who it could be, was it Henry and Linda’s kids? They had come up during Thanksgiving and had finally gotten the chance to meet Bendy, even if they had reacted, well, like most people did.

Screams, fear, and demands to know who he was.

At this point, it was becoming more of an annoyance than a problem for him.

Henry had told him that his kids couldn’t visit, they were busy with their families for the holidays, but instead, it would be Thomas and Allison Conner.

Bendy knew who they were, of course, they were friends of Henry’s from his time in the studio! And they had escaped with him and his creator when they finally broke the time loops Joey had set up for them. He knew Henry was still in contact with them, calling them up to chat and check up on how they were doing, sometimes sending letters.

Last month, they had sent a photo of themselves back at their barn, it was a nice little bonus to the letter Allison had sent.

The demon had been excited to hear that they were coming and was waiting at the window to see them pull up. He occupied himself with looking at the yard, seeing all the snow that covered it, and where Henry was shoveling the sidewalk. There was a snowman out on the yard, something he and his father-figure had made yesterday, looked a lot like the one Bendy had made in his cartoons.

He made a happy trill when he saw an old, green truck pull up alongside the sidewalk and spotted the two figures inside. He couldn’t hear Henry, but he knew he was greeting the couple as they stepped out.

Tom and Allison looked just as they had in their photo and from when they returned to being human. It was still strange to him, since he was so use to seeing them as toons, and looking much younger as humans, but it was still them.

He watched as the small group came to the door and he ran towards it in just a few strides, stopping right in sight of them as they stepped in. “Heh, he’s been waiting all morning for you guys.” Henry chuckled as he stepped aside, working to remove his coat.

“Oh, has he now?” Allison asked, looking just as amused as she sounded. She removed her boots and approached Bendy, holding out a hand, which he happily bumped his head against. “Hi there, Henry’s told us you’ve been doing well in the outside world, is that true?”

Bendy nodded, making a happy gurgle in his throat as Thomas snorted, rolling his eyes. It was clear that the man was still weary of Bendy, and the beast didn’t blame him, he had been a threat to the once-wolf for a long time, three years, just like Henry.

“Ah, our guests are here.” Linda spoke up, catching the group’s attention. Bendy watched as Henry introduced his wife to the other couple and the four just started to talk up a storm to one another. Well, Allison, Henry, and Linda talked, Tom just grunted or mumbled out a reply. He wasn’t much of a talker from what Bendy knew of him, even back in the days when he had been a real, living toon and not a demonic being. The man spoke when he felt the need to, he didn’t have to contribute to the conversation if he didn’t want to. Made Bendy wonder if he was a silent Boris by his own choice and not because of the machine.

He followed them as the Steins gave the Conners a tour of their home, smiling brightly when Linda told them that Bendy had helped her decorate the house for Christmas. He was very proud of his work, especially what he did for the tree. Henry even let him put the star on top!

After all of that, he left the couples to chat and catch up more while he sat in the living room. Christmas was in three days and he was excited, he wondered what was going to happen, what he was going to get, and if this ‘Santa’ character was really going to break into the house and leave gifts.

--

Christmas Eve had finally arrived and the giant demon was over the moon about it. He had seen his family and their guests moving about the house, getting dinner ready for that night, and getting things prepared for the meal the next day. He had seen Linda and Allison wrapping some last-minute gifts for their husbands, even letting him attempt to wrap his own present for Henry that Linda had gotten for him.

He had went out into the snow, playing with his friend Mary for a bit, before she had to leave to go to her grandparents for Christmas.

Now he was putting away the last of the dishes from dinner, hearing Henry quietly talking to Allison out in the other room, something about going to church. Ah, that’s right, Henry had told him about a Christmas Eve mass at their local church they attended every year. They would have taken Bendy with them, but... well... he is a rather tall, massive demon that intimidated even the toughest men in town with just a simple baring of his teeth.

He could hear them talk about what to do with him, just leave him at home? Attempt to take him? Would he be okay just sitting in the truck? “No, it’s gonna be cold and snowy tonight.” Henry mumbled.

“You don’t want to leave him here alone?”

“I’d rather not, it’s his first Christmas Eve with us, and I’d like for him to have company.”

“Then let me stay with him.” Thomas spoke up, catching the attention of not only Henry and Allison, but Bendy as well.

“You want to stay with Bendy, Tom?” Allison asked. “I know you’re still... you know, about him.”

Tom huffed, crossing his arms, standing his ground on this. Allison looked at him before sighing loudly, laughing lightly. “It’s so hard to change your mind, Tom. Alright, I’ll go with Henry and Linda, but you behave yourself! No picking fights, got it?”

He nodded, giving her an ‘okay’ gesture with his hand. And within twenty minutes, Bendy found himself in the living room with Tom, the man quietly sitting on the couch. He was looking at the television, a Christmas movie was playing on it and Bendy tried to pay attention to that. He suddenly feel so nervous and uncomfortable, this reminded him too much of the times he was locked in Thomas’ office because of Joey.

Thomas wasn’t a threat, but he was very quiet and gave off this air of ‘buzz off’ constantly. Except when he was focused on Allison, that was a different story.

“So.” The sudden voice made Bendy visibly jump, and he heard what could have been a laugh from the mechanic. “Do you like being outside of the studio?”

Bendy nodded quietly.

“Same here, I hated it there. Even when I was working for Drew.” Tom replied as he sipped from the coffee cup he had. “There were a few things I liked about it though. Allison, that’s the best, I didn’t mind Franks too much. Sometimes trying out the games in Bendyland was interesting. And then there was you.”

This confused Bendy as he turned to look at the man. “You were this weird thing that we couldn’t explain that lived in the studio. You were quiet until you started to learn to speak, and all you did was your typical toon stuff. I don’t know, I didn’t watch much of the show, but I was well aware that you were a prankster.”

Bendy snickered at this and Thomas continued. “You weren’t as bad as Joey made you out to be, both during the studio’s run and during the loops. Oh, I hated you when I was a wolf, you tried to kill my wife and I, you killed Henry. You were a monster, and even after we escaped that hellhole, even after we saw you with Henry, I still saw you that way.”

He took a long drink, setting the cup aside to fully look at Bendy. “But just these past few days, seeing how you are all day, and hearing stories from Linda and Henry, it got me thinking that maybe it was just how Joey wrote you that made me see you as a monster.”

Carefully, Bendy leaned in closer, looking at the man who had once been a Boris. Was Tom admitting that he didn’t find Bendy to be all that bad?

“You’re like some weird kid, Bendy.” Thomas mumbled in that gruff voice of his. “Even looking like this, you’re still that little cartoon demon that ran around and lived in my office. Keep it up.” With that, he gave Bendy a pat on the head and returned to watching the Christmas movie that was playing.

Bendy sat there, completely stunned, but a big grin came to his face as he bumped his massive head against the startled man, nuzzling him, ignoring the complaints from the mechanic.

--

“We’re back.” Henry called out as he stepped into his house. He heard music playing, possibly from the radio, before he looking into the room. He almost laughed at the sight, but decided not to. He gestured for Allison and Linda to come over to see what he was looking at.

He found that the radio was on, playing Christmas music, while on the couch was a sleeping Thomas, with Bendy’s head on his lap. The demon was out like a light as well, he was even drooling a little on the other’s lap. Seems like they had fallen asleep while playing cards, from what he could tell by the playing cards that were on the floor.

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Allison whispered. “Looks like an old man and his dog, anyone got a camera? I want to frame this at home.”

“Hold on, I’ll get it.” Linda giggled, leaving to find the camera.

“I wonder what we missed tonight, looks like it was important.” Henry spoke as he looked at Bendy, seeing him shift, making a gurgling-purring noise in his throat.

“Bet they had a nice talk, Tom likes private conversations.” Allison whispered back. “Looks like he gave Bendy his Christmas gift early.”

“Looks like it, too bad we’re gonna have to embarrass him about it when he wakes up.”

“Oh yes, that’s a must.”

--

Happy holidays, readers! :D

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 50

Luke and Simon finished up their move on November 30th, and we closed on the penthouse December 2nd. I’d been busy getting things sorted at the office, and though Tom had begun packing there was still much more to do before the company we’d hired to relocate all our worldly belongings showed up on December 15th. We figured that would give us just enough time to settle in before Christmas, which Diana would again be hosting this year. There were boxes everywhere, and at nearly seven months pregnant my ability to navigate tight spaces seemed to diminish a little more with each passing day. Since we’d been back there’d been intermittent discussions regarding what to name Prog, but everything we came up with just didn’t seem to fit. Roland had always been my first choice, but that fucker Simon had beaten me to it, and while I could technically still use it, I harbored zero desire to have to listen to him calling me a copycat for the rest of my natural life so it was officially off the table. Tom’s first choice was William, but almost immediately after mentioning it he recalled that was my ex-husband’s name and into the ‘nope’ pile it went. By the weekend of the 10th we’d gotten to the point wherein we were wrapping and packing our collectibles, AKA the socially acceptable term for adult-owned toys, at least in our case, anyway. Tom had donned his Indiana Jones fedora after finding it in the spare room and was humming the theme on and off while wielding a tape gun as if it were a weapon. I’d flopped down on the bed, at which point he’d decided to see if he could land the hat on my belly. One toss was all it took, which wasn’t surprising because an easier target would have been a challenge to establish, and I just let it remain there because removing it would have required entirely too much effort on my part. Prog decided to give it a kick, and with that, just as I’d know he was a boy, I knew his name. I sat up, hat in my hand, eyes wide. Tom stared at me, concerned.

“Everything all right?”

 Nodding, I waved the fedora at him. “This is it. The name. His name.”

 Tom’s left eyebrow rose as his head tilted to the right. “Fedora?”

 I rolled my eyes. “Really? No. Not fedora.”

 He pursed his lips, one hand rising to stroke his jaw. “Surely you don’t mean to call him Indiana. Though, that is rather cool, if I’m honest…but it sounds awful in conjunction with Hiddleston, doesn’t it?”

 I sighed heavily in exasperation at his lack of comprehension, be it genuine or a ruse, as to where I was going with this, shaking my head as I lowered my chin to my chest briefly, then turned my gaze back to him.

 “No, Tom. Not Indiana. His name is Henry. Henry Thomas Hiddleston.”

 His hand shifted from his jaw to cover his mouth, nearly concealing a gasp of surprise. He walked around the bed to kneel in front of me, fingers grazing my belly as he leaned forward. “Oh. Oh my. That’s it, you’re spot on. Henry. Hello Henry. Wow. Okay.”  He looked up so his eyes met mine, a huge smile spreading across his face. “Guess we’ll call the dog Indiana, then.”

 “Cat. We can call the cat Indiana.”

 He pouted. “A house isn’t a home without a dog, Maude.”

 “You know what? You’re right…a house isn’t a home without a dog. A hot dog. Which is what I want, like, right now.  Help a girl up so she can go grab one out of the fridge, m’kay? All cold and salty…mmm…”

 He obliged, taking my hands and providing a gentle boost. “I’d be more than happy to cook for you, you know…”

 “Thank you, but…nope. Cold hot dog. Maybe two. Or three.” He stuck his tongue out, shaking his head in mock disgust. I shrugged. “Can’t be helped. What Henry wants, Henry gets, you know?”

 He kissed the top of my head. “Oh, I know. What ‘Henry’ wants, is it?”

 As we entered the hallway, I punched him in the arm. “Listen, I’m going to milk this whole pregnancy thing as much as possible. It’s the first time in my life I’ve had a legitimate reason to behave like a diva on a regular basis.”

 “You’re no diva, love. You’re a goddess…my goddess, thank the stars…and should be treated accordingly.”

 “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

 He smirked. “Well, I feel as if I’ve achieved what I’d always thought was an impossible victory.”

 “Whatever. Hush up and fix me my hot dog.”

 “Hmmm, I thought Henry was the one who…”

 “Is that how we treat the goddess, Tom? Is it?”

 Bowing deeply, he took my hand and brought it to his lips as he gazed up at me. “No. No it is not. Shall I make it up to you by delivering your meal to the couch so you can sit back and elevate your legs?”

 I patted him on the head as he rose. “That’s more like it. Also, yes please. And thank you.”

 “C’est mon plaisir, Maude.”

 “Oh god, not the French.” I’d developed a bit of a kink for it over the past month, which he’d graciously accommodated. Rear entry was really the only position that worked well for us of late, and my libido had tanked considerably. Him talking dirty always got me in the mood, though, and when he spoke in French it was like my stupid maternity pants just fell right off. Once he’d discovered that saying literally anything in that particular language got me fired up, even if I had no idea what the fuck it meant, he began making a habit of interjecting it into our conversations when I least expected it.

 “Votre chaud chien vous attend.”

 I recognized a good bit of that, especially the words for ‘hot’ and ‘dog’. “Pretty sure hot dog in French is just…hot-dog, Tom.”

 “That’s not nearly as erotic as chaud chien, is it?”

 I groaned. “No. No it’s not. You suck.”

 He grinned. “We’ll see.”

 ****************************************

Once all our stuff was in place and put away, it became apparent that the penthouse was downright vast as far as space was concerned. The sofa and chairs blended in nicely with the modern design, and the tree of life rug looked perfect in front of the built-in white shelf that ran the length of the closed stair railing, but they seemed so much…smaller. Even the dining table was dwarfed by the openness, though it was, at least in part, sort of freeing…less cluttered living. The bar-style island required the purchase of new chairs so we could eat there when we felt like it, and I insisted upon the kind with backs as opposed to bar stools because I knew I’d end up ass over teakettle otherwise. Admittedly, there was an awful lot of white cabinetry throughout, but the floor to ceiling windows let in so much light it seemed much more New York flat-ish as opposed to New Orleans house-ish. The entry point was on the lower floor, within the rectangular portion of the building. Just inside the main door and to the left was a guest half-bath, with a hall door that led to two large bedrooms with full en suites. In the entryway, next to the door to the bedrooms, was a hall closet. Directly across the entryway from the closet was the double-door entrance to the circular portion of the building. Straight ahead through the doors and on the right-hand side of the circle there was a staircase to the second level, and to the left was a door to another small hallway that led to two more en suites, one average-sized rectangular bedroom and a a second three-sided bedroom comprised of two traditional walls and one curved measuring twenty-seven by eleven feet overall. Down past the staircase and on the left was the entrance to the twenty by eighteen-foot master suite, with a full quarter-circle glass wall on one side overlooking a forty by nine-foot terrace. The bath was also quarter-circle in shape, and the dressing room rectangular. We sacrificed some of the dressing room square footage in order to put in a door to the other semi-circular bedroom, figuring it would be an ideal location for Henry’s nursery. The upstairs footprint was identical to that of the lower level, though wide open except for the small wall that served to support the kitchen cabinetry. There was another half bath just off the kitchen in the squared-off dining room area, as well as sliders to the large private outdoor deck that overlooked Regent’s Park. Where to display our book collection was our biggest conundrum…the only section of appropriate public wall space was in the living room opposite the television and stairs, but the couch was backed against it so they’d have to be above and behind us, which would make it impractical to peruse them easily since they’d be difficult to reach. There was space for shelving downstairs just before the staircase, but not enough room for everything. The entry area was also an option, but still, not enough room. We decided to store them in the smallest bedroom until we’d grown accustomed to day-to-day living in the penthouse and had a better feel for the flow, especially since there were more pressing issues that required our attention at the moment. Issues like ‘holy fuck, what actually, like, goes in a nursery anyway and where do we buy this shit’.

 The answer to ‘where do we buy this shit’ was simple…the internets, thank you very much. As it turned out what goes in a nursery was also answered simply and included a.) place for the  baby to sleep, b.) place to dress the baby and conduct baby-waste removal and related clean-up activities, c.) place to store the things required for item b and finally d.) a rocking glider which was sold under the pretense of baby feeding and baby rocking but was more than likely a spot for the parental units to collapse because they were too exhausted to walk another fifteen feet to their bed after completing all of the aforementioned tasks. Things got complicated when the morons with minimal baby experience attempted to choose the design style for the nursery components while trying very, very hard to be mindful of the form over function rule but wound up falling down the ‘oh, we might need this too’ rabbit hole. There was the Baby Bay, a white three-quarter crib that attached underneath a mattress so there could be co-sleeping without the danger of rolling over and suffocating the infant, which seemed like a great idea since I’d decided I’d give breast feeding a go. Next was a tripod bassinet for upstairs that came complete with a curtain to block out light in case Henry needed to crash out while we were doing Adult Things. It looked like a teepee, and I questioned its stability but Simon said it was perfectly fine and that he’d ordered them for their old place above the office, which would function as a family-friendly home-away-from-home for him and Luke going forward. For when Henry was awake, a baby lounger was evidently required, and I chose a 3-in-1 bouncy-recliner model with a light wood base and a micro-fiber seat, finding myself left bitterly disappointed that such things, if available, were not easy to find in an adult size. All of the furniture was either white or grey, or white and grey, other than the clear acrylic rolling bookshelf, which looked like it was straight out of Magneto’s prison cell. The crib railings were white and the sides grey, and the nightstands and dresser/changer combo mimicked the same design, both sporting grey sides and white drawers. The glider was oversized...really oversized, and I was pretty sure Tom and I would be able to squeeze into it together when I was no longer a sci-fi movie sized dinosaur egg with appendages. It was grey mock-tweed, as was the ottoman, both with brushed chrome bases. We’d found a Mima Xari aluminum and black stroller that screamed ‘Maude! Shiny! For baby!’ but was priced at a ludicrous $1700…after watching several videos and evaluating the cost of the individual components we’d still need to purchase if we went with a different model, I gave in, reassuring myself that this was one of those rare instances wherein function and form melded perfectly. We copied Luke and Simon’s car seat and baby wrap choices since they’d been researching prior to the actual conception of the girls, and other than incidentals like diapers, clothing and bedding, Tom and I felt we were prepared for Henry’s arrival. Or at least we felt as such until we thought of yet another ‘oh, right, that’, which, for me, was a significant indicator that no one is ever fully prepared for such a momentous event and that parenting would probably be like everything else in life…a total ‘fake-it-‘til-you-make-it’ scenario. Shit happens, you deal with it. Which just happened to be my specialty.

 Christmas at Diana’s was peaceful, joyful and chock full of hilarity. No painful family secrets to be revealed, no anger, no resentment…a simple gathering of people who’d endured a great deal of ups and downs over the past twelve months and were feeling incredibly blessed to be in each other’s company while not-at-all politely competing for the title of Scrabble Champion. I knew that trying to keep the fact that I was carrying a boy under wraps would likely be an epic fail, so once we’d settled in on Christmas Eve Tom mentioned that we’d learned the gender and since we might slip up we’d prefer to tell everyone prior to such an occurrence. James wept at the news, beaming with pride as he strode toward me. I could feel myself bristling initially, but when he kissed his right palm and then placed it on my belly and said ‘first a granddaughter and now a grandson…how fortunate a man am I to see this come to pass’ I realized I’d read his reaction entirely incorrectly and felt like a huge jerk until I was distracted by a plate of scones being circulated among us.

 As part of her gift to us Diana asked if we’d allow her to paint a mural in the nursery, which was a fantastic idea, but drew attention to the fact that we’d yet to choose a theme. This was unacceptable in parenting circles, apparently. Worse, even, than not having a birthing plan that laid out every detail right down to the specific piece of music you wished to play as your baby emerged from your womb. Every theme we’d considered left us feeling ‘meh’ at best…they were either too gendered, too boring, too busy, or just plain fugly. Dr. Seuss had been a viable option for a day or two, but the more I stared at the bedding the less interesting it became and boom…suddenly, meh. On Christmas morning, after all our other gifts had been opened, Diana left the room briefly and returned with a large box wrapped in red foil and set it on the floor in front of the sofa Tom and I were lounging on. From her expression I discerned that she was both excited and nervous about us seeing the contents inside. She smiled sheepishly.

 “Now if you don’t have use for any of this, please don’t think I’ll be offended. And please don’t you be offended by my presumptuousness…it’s just that Tom was always very fond of…well, I’d best let you open it before I spoil things, shouldn’t I?”

 Inside was a plastic tub, which Tom lifted out and placed beside the gift box, jaw dropping as he removed the lid.

 “Mum, my god…is this what I think it is?”

 She nodded. “I saved all of your layettes and other special items from when you were babies, both because I love to look at them from time to time and because I thought you might want them for your own babies someday…” She trailed off, sniffling.

 Tom began removing onesies, rompers, footed pajamas, tiny t-shirts, shorts, and overalls…all of them bearing at least one character from the Winnie the Pooh series. I watched them pile up on his thighs until one in particular caught my eye. I reached for it, surprised by the fact that it was in such beautiful condition all these years later. It was a jumpsuit, the sleeves, collar and and ankle cuffs a cream-colored cotton, the rest a green, brown, yellow and cream plaid flannel with four white decorative buttons down the front. To the right and towards the bottom was an embroidered Pooh raking leaves, and to the left and near the shoulder was an embroidered Tigger appearing to be leaping out of the jumpsuit pocket while tossing leaves into the air. I couldn’t stop staring at it, Diana’s voice when she spoke sounding as if it was emanating from another room.

 “I’d always loved Winnie the Pooh, and so did Tom, right from the start. He’d get so excited when I’d sing him the theme song, even when he still fit in those clothes, his legs and arms flailing about…”

 Sarah snorted. “That’s still how he dances, to this day.”

 I smiled because she sure as shit wasn’t wrong, but could also feel myself tearing up as my fingers traced over Pooh and Tigger and the softness of the flannel, picturing Diana singing to Tom while he was wearing it, then imagining myself singing to Henry while he was wearing the very same garment. The tears began to flow, running down my cheeks in spite of my best efforts to not cry. I looked up at Diana and found her frowning, concern in her eyes.

 “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

 I smiled through my tears. “No, no…please don’t be sorry. This…these…all beautiful…I just…I don’t have any of this sort of stuff and I’m so grateful that you do and that you’ve chosen to share it with me. With us. It means more than I can ever properly express. Thank you, Diana. So much. I don’t suppose that mural can be a scene from the Hundred Acre Wood, could it?”

 She gasped, her own tears glimmering with flashing colors, reflecting the tree lights. “Really? Well what an unexpected and perfect gift for me…yes, yes. I have one in mind already, actually…”

 Tom leaned in to wipe my tears with his thumbs and kiss my cheek, grinning. “That’s our theme problem solved then, eh?”

 I nodded, snuggling into his side. “Yep. Only one thing left on our list, really.”

 He draped his arm around my shoulders. “And what’s that?”

 I patted my belly. “Convincing Henry to exit the premises as scheduled.” He laughed, and I pointed my left index finger in his direction. “It’s a legitimate concern.”

 “It’s not uncommon to go past the due date, is it?”

 I shook my head. “No. But I’m crossing my fingers that l he’ll take after me as opposed to you in regard to timeliness.”

 As he began to speak Diana interrupted him. “Maude, perhaps it will ease your mind a bit to know that Tom was the only child I bore that wasn’t late. All downhill after that though, as far as being prompt goes, I’m afraid.”

 Tom attempted to speak again, only to be interrupted by me this time around. “So there IS hope after all…even if it’s fleeting, I’ll take it.”

 ****************************************

 Tom opened and held the Bull & Last’s heavy wooden entry door for me so I could waddle my way inside. Though I was now officially five days beyond my due date, we were out and about on a Friday night to meet Luke and Simon for a Tom’s day-late birthday and early Valentine’s Day celebration dinner. It was their first time out of the house together sans children since Persephone and Esmerelda had arrived on December 28th, and probably Tom’s and my last for a while. I’d covered the Prosper office from that point until Luke had returned on February 1st and I’d wanted to keep working, but Tom very gently suggested that perhaps I should take some time off to relax before Henry joined us. An argument ensued and I may or may not have called him a sexist asshole prior to discussing the matter via phone with Dr. Phillips who agreed that it was probably best to take it easy since I’d begun experiencing some edema, which he’d mentioned a week earlier but I’d decided to ignore. I considered calling him a sexist asshole as well, but Tom had clicked the end call button before I had a chance to properly evaluate the situation. After he retrieved a bag of truffles from the kitchen for me we’d had a little chat wherein we attempted to establish why I might be feeling the need to keep working, during which I stared him straight in the eye and said very matter-of-factly that there was a human growing inside me and it was going to come OUT of me and there was nothing I could do about it but maybe if I just kept going things would stay just as they were forever. AKA, I was scared shitless about the entire process, I felt powerless, I didn’t like feeling powerless, so I did something that made me feel powerful as a distraction so I wouldn’t have to face reality. Classic Maude, Impending Motherhood Edition. The fear had remained until three days ago when Henry did a somersault that nearly knocked me off the couch and I began having to pee every forty minutes or so. A few hours into that fuckery I was willing to try anything to get labor going, but when I’d gotten up this morning I’d found myself in a state of quiet acceptance. I’d gotten my wish…I was going to be pregnant FOR-EV-ER.

 We spotted the free birds at the corner window table, all the way at the back of the main room to the left of the fireplace. My black leather boots, which Tom had kindly put on for me since my feet and I hadn’t seen each other in four weeks or so, clunked as we made our way across the wooden floor. As we drew closer Simon stood and clapped.

 “Oh honey, I love that dress…” His clapping ceased as he tiled his head from one side to the other. “Maude. You’re waddling. Which you weren’t doing when I saw you Tuesday. Wowza.”

 “Yes. The waddling. I’m aware. Also, I can’t wear pants anymore and this is the only dress I could squeeze into that was suitable for public consumption but, you know, yay that you love it, I guess.” It was a tea-length black mock-turtleneck sweater dress, the merino wool blend making it possible to go without a coat, which was necessary since none of those fucking fit me any longer, either. I sighed as Tom pulled out the chair nearest the fireplace for me, then lowered myself down like a sloth. There was no need for him to push me in because my belly was already mere centimeters from the table. Simon was directly across from me, and he walked around the table and squatted next to me, tapping on my stomach gently.

 “Henry, I’m sure it’s cozy in there, but you really need to come out and play with us. Your friends Seph and Ez can’t wait to meet you.” The girls were, not surprisingly, gorgeous…both blonde, Seph with Luke’s brown eyes and Ez’s eyes a shade lighter than Simon’s grey ones. I’d held them both, separately, which was terrifying enough, thank you very much, but every time it was Ez’s turn Henry became far more active than normal. I’d even made a point of testing the theory, and it totally panned out. Seph, nothing. Ez, kicks and shifting aplenty. I had not a clue what the deal was, but it was fascinating nonetheless.

 I patted the top of Simon’s head. “I appreciate your efforts, kind sir. But I think he’s just a tiny bit…dare I say…stubborn. And I have no idea where he gets that from. Certainly not from me.”

 Tom sat, pulling his chair forward. “Not from me either. It’s an unsolvable riddle, in my opinion.”

 We all laughed as Simon returned to his seat, took a sip of his wine, planted a kiss on Luke’s cheek, then lifted his glass high. “Cheers, dear friends. To laughter, love and life.”

 Tom and I raised our water glasses and Luke lifted his very full beer mug carefully, all of us clinking in the middle. The waiter arrived with menus, and I stared at mine for entirely too long trying to find something that appealed to me. All of the entrees were a no, so I ordered sides – a bread basket, Buttermilk Chicken & Aioli, and Triple Cooked Chips. Tom opted for the Chargrilled Onglet, Simon the Chargrilled Aged Cote de Boeuf, and Luke the Beer Battered Haddock. Halfway through dinner I reached across to snag a piece of beef from Simon’s plate and felt a pop, then a rush of warm liquid between my thighs. I froze, and my expression was presumedly cause for concern because, in unison, the three of them asked if I was all right. I took a deep breath as I put down my fork and leaned back into my seat.

 “Well, I’m pretty sure my water just broke, so…I mean, I don’t know?”

 Tom whipped his phone out of the back pocket of his black dress pants, and I heard him greeting Dr. Phillips as I pondered my predicament. On one hand, I was thrilled, and on the other, frightened. Weren’t there supposed to be contractions first? Because I’d yet to have any, so did that mean something was wrong? I’d read about labor over and over but my ability to retain information had declined considerably throughout my pregnancy, which was a common occurrence. I shook my head.

 “But yet I remember that relatively unimportant fact in a rather ironic fashion.”

 Tom told Dr. Phillips that he didn’t recall me mentioning anything about it, then passed me the phone. He was white as a sheet, and I could tell he was trying very, very hard to not freak out. I took it from his shaking hand and held it up to my left ear, Dr. Phillips’s tempered Scottish accent causing me to envision Sean Connery, as per usual. He resembled him, really, though shorter and much rounder. Grey hair, bald on top with a closely cropped beard and piercing dark brown eyes. Kind of like a cross between Santa Claus and James Bond, in the business of delivering presents and a being a huge hit with the ladies.

 “Maude! Finally some news, eh?”

 “Uh-huh. I felt a pop, then a sploosh…but I haven’t had any contractions…is that normal? I know I knew the answer to that but I just…don’t anymore. Oy.”

 He chuckled. “Hormones wreak unexpected havoc, don’t they? Yes, it’s normal. But, you should head to the Portland tonight to check in. Labor usually begins within twenty-four hours after the amniotic sac starts leaking, and being in hospital reduces the risk of infection. Which is quite minimal, mind you. So, Tom said he couldn’t recall you mentioning any pain. Be that as it may, I’ll ask you in any case…have you experienced any pain?”

 “Other than my lower back screaming at me, no. And that’s nothing new. I mean, it does seem worse today than usual but…oh, shit. Back labor. Is this back labor, do you think? Also, as I do for all medical professionals forced to interact with me while I’m experiencing any sort of pain, I’m going to go ahead and apologize now not just for this singular instance of the use of profanity but for the hundreds of others you’ll likely be hearing until this whole birth thing is done and over with. So, sorry. Anyway…back labor?”

 “At what point did the intensity of the pain increase, Maude? A general timeframe is what I’m after here, so precision isn’t essential.”

 Throughout the entire duration of baby-harboring I’d kept as active as possible, doing yoga, walking outdoors and on the treadmill in our new gym, dancing when the spirit moved me…and I’d only gained twenty pounds. Up until four weeks prior I hadn’t felt constrained in any way, really, but by then I’d gotten so large that yoga was no longer possible and once the routine stretching ceased the muscles in my lower back became stiff and sore. It was most noticeable when I was standing for long periods and eased when I resumed a sitting position. When Tom and I had gone grocery shopping last night the pain had definitely been more pronounced, and it had continued even when I was in a horizontal position, trying to get some sleep between bathroom trips. I hadn’t thought anything of it because, frankly, I expected random physical components to begin failing the longer I continued to schlepp Henry’s estimated nine-plus pounds around. I squeezed my eyes shut as I answered the question, embarrassed by my ignorance.

 “Um, almost twenty-four hours ago.”

 There was a long pause, followed by Dr. Phillips first inhaling, then exhaling deeply. “All right then. As I said, next step is getting you to the Portland. May I speak with Tom again, please, Maude?”

 I laughed. “You’re going to tell him that I’ve probably been in labor for a whole day and we need to bust a move so I don’t give birth right here or something, aren’t you? Sure, you can talk to him…but I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?” I tapped the button, then handed the phone back to Tom, who wasn’t quite as white but still far paler than normal. He cleared his throat, then spoke.

 “I’m here, Dr. Phillips. We’re about fifteen minutes away from the hospital. Will that do?”

 “Get there just as soon as you can. Maude, if you begin to experience contractions, be sure either you or Tom track the time between. I’ll make sure everything is ready by the time you arrive. If things escalate quickly, call emergency services first, then me. All right?”

 Tom nodded, then remembered Dr. Phillips couldn’t see him. “Yes. Thank you. We’ll be leaving immediately.”

  Dr. Phillips assured us that everything would be fine, wished us luck, then hung up. Simon, who’d remained refreshingly subdued during the exchange, began babbling as Luke sipped his beer.

 “Ohmygod, okay, this is happening. It’s happening. Do you need us to drive you? We can drive you and bring your car down later. You have your go bag with you, right, Maude? In the car? Have to remember to get that on the way out…”

 I covered my face with my hands, my voice muffled as I spoke. “No. I do not have my go bag. My go bag is sitting in the hallway at home, where I put it so I’d remember to ask Tom to put it in the car when we left. It was in the car, but I decided to reorganize it for the hundredth time yesterday. Hence why it’s sitting. In the hallway. At home.”

 Tom gently pulled my hands away from my face and held them in his own, placed a kiss on each palm, then released them. “We’ll figure it out, love. First things first…we need to, as you said previously, bust a move.”

 Luke stood, and Simon followed suit. “Simon can use our vehicle to go back to the Atrium and pick up your bag, I’ll drive you in yours and we’ll all meet up at the hospital.”

 Just like they’d transitioned to a family vehicle, Tom and I had purchased a Range Rover Sport right after the holidays. I wasn’t a Jeep, but I’d deemed it acceptable, at least in the gunmetal grey body color. What I wasn’t prepared to deem acceptable was someone chauffeuring us in it on our birth pilgrimage…we’d decided that it would only be the two of us in the delivery room, hospital staff being the only exception, and I’d assumed it would be only the two of us on the way there as well. As I pushed down on the table and began to stand with the intention of stating that we’d be fine on our own but I’d really appreciate them picking up the enormous bag of shit I probably didn’t even need and dropping it off at the hospital, my first official contraction hit me like a freight train. I’d read that they were supposed to feel like menstrual cramps, but to me this…this felt more like food poisoning cramps on steroids. Once it passed I realized I had no concept whatsoever of how long it had lasted, or whether or not I’d remained silent. I didn’t recall having spoken, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t uttered some sort of reflexive primal scream. With the pain gone I was able to stand fully erect, and as I glanced to my right toward the bar no one was staring back at me so I figured I was in the clear as far as making a spectacle of myself went. For now, anyway. I turned to Tom, who was now standing as well, his eyes wide. The flash of utter terror I saw in them before he smiled at me changed my stance on being chauffeured.

 I nodded. “Luke, that sounds great. Thank you. Simon, you have the key, right?” He nodded in turn. We had a set of keys to their place and they had one for ours, just in case of an accidental loss, lock-out or in the event of an emergency situation. I would have thought the latter wouldn’t be the first time they’d be needed, but hey, the universe is full of surprises, isn’t it? Fucking A it is. The sensation of something crawling down the inside of my left leg diverted my attention downward, scanning the wooden floor and hoping I wouldn’t see any droplets of amniotic fluid. Nope, so far so good…but the chair I’d been sitting on hadn’t been so fortunate. It was shiny, as if it had just been wiped with a wet cloth, which it had been, in a way…but it was a woolen wet cloth, also known as my dress. I grabbed my napkin and dried the wood as best I could, then found myself wondering what the fuck to do with the soiled square of cloth. Putting it back on the table for our waiter to pick up would be super gross, and I’d left my purse in the car. Tom took note of my dilemma and reached out, grabbed the napkin and stuffed it into his front pants pocket. He was wearing a maroon sweater over a white button-down, and in that moment I loved him so fiercely it startled me. A sense of renewed energy and an almost absolute power flowed through me, and I took two steps toward him, then grabbed on to both of his forearms.

 “I’m ready. Let’s go have this baby.”

 He inclined his head in the affirmative, and I released him, then turned around and began to make my way toward the heavy wooden doors, pushing the one marked ‘exit’ outward. Tom was right behind me, close enough so no one would notice if there happened to be a dark spot on my dress…not that I gave a single fuck. I waddled my ass out into the night and down the sidewalk toward our car, my love in tow and my mind set on one purpose, and one purpose only…finally meeting our son.

[fullmetaldevil-blog]

What Christmas Means (pt. 1)

*Authors note: The damn Christmas story was supposed to be a SHORT, next thing I knew it got long enough for me to want to divide it into 3 distinct portions.

*Any who there are additional notes to be made but those are at the bottom of this portion of the “short”.

On with the show~!

--------What Christmas Means--------

Christmas was rapidly approaching as a modest single family home was warmly lit within. The smell of cookies drifted through the house, a young dark haired woman could be seen wandering throughout the kitchen.

Allison paced to and fro within the kitchen baking all sort of cookies, the table was covered in cookbooks and bowls of dough. She wanted to make her newest addition to the family to feel as welcome as possible and to see what the holiday meant.

The sound of padded feet and mumbling alerted Allison to her other resident within the home; her husband Tom. The tall gruff looking man fumbled around the kitchen searching for the coffee pot, grasping his treasure, he hoarded the pot for himself as he slunk over to the kitchen table sitting down. He didn't even bother with a mug, he drank the dark brew strait from the pot, which he was lucky Allison made it much earlier in the morning giving it ample time for the beverage to cool. After several minutes Tom seemed to gather himself as he opened his eyes more then just squinting, taking in the sight of the cluttered table.

"Baking Christmas cookies?" He looked at the different dough's, sprinkles, candy, and extracts littering the table along with various holiday cookbooks.

"Uhh huh" Allison gingerly lifted a already set up cookie sheet and set it in the oven, turning to set a timer before sitting down in front of Tom.

"So does he know?" Tom looking up at her from his coffee pot mug.

"No, it will be his first." Allison fingered through a cookbook. "and I want it to be his best."

"Anything planned for the day then? I got the next few days off cause of the holiday" Tom raised a brow peering over his coffee pot.

"Well first we need a tree and decorations, then we can go from there." Allison closed the book. "But we need to make sure to pick up our little present that we talked about the other day before we set up all the decorations."

Tom nodded and set his pot down, then swiped a few cookies getting him a glare as he wandered off to get dressed. He walked down the hall sparring a few glances at photos along the way. The wall was littered in recent photo's of them and their newest family member, Benny. The little plushtoon demon was a ray of sunshine in the couple's lives, and when Benny's counterpart Bendy and his creator Henry came to visit, it made them all feel like a large strange family. The two toons were the glue to their family and kept the former coworkers all connected. He smiled as he fondly reminisced over some of the photos, making his way to the other member of the house's room.

Tom came to a door with a little placard with a stitch pattern drawn on the edges with 'Benny' written in several different colors. He quietly opened the door seeing that the light was still off and heard soft snores in the corner.

The room was a soft baby blue with white trim, the room was decorated with a large dresser, desk, a easy up chair, a walk-in closet and a child's bed. Plush toys were neatly stacked on the desk next to a sewing machine as fabric and cotton littered the floor around the desk. The child's bed, a bit small, had small cartooney 'Z's floating above it as they dissipated into the air. Tom quietly approached the bed and looked down at the sleeping occupant.

Resting within the bed was Benny the stitched demon, he looked just like his toon counterpart Bendy the dancing demon except that he had sepia coloring and had stitches all over his body. Benny was originally a doll that was made in the Heavenly Toy factory portion of Joey Drew Studios and was patterned in the likeness of Bendy the star character, since as a doll he didn't make the cut due to a defect. He was subjected to the ink machine as a test run and had a surprisingly successful result, the ink machine had brought the doll to life as a half toon half plush character. The toon had a rough start since the director of the studio Joey Drew, tried to kill him shortly after birth. The horrors of the studio now behind them all as everyone tried to repair their broken lives, especially the surviving toons adjusting to their new world.

Tom knelt down to the bed and gently stroked one of Benny's horns resulting in a small hum as the toon started to stir. He rolled over and struggled a bit to open his mismatched pie cut eyes, looking up at tom, making a small confused squeaky toy like noise while rubbing his eyes.

"C'mon pal you gotta get up" Tom chuckled while he looked at the little sleepy demon. Benny weakly grabbed the blanket and tried to cover himself back up, not quite ready to get up. Sighing, Tom slid his hands under the blanket and lifted both the toon and the blanket as he carried him out the room. Benny making small whining noise, but was too tired to protest.

Tom wandering into the kitchen setting the toon at the table while he returned to his room to get dressed.

Benny winced at the bright light as he stirred within the blanket covering his head. Allison chuckled at the toons refusal to wake up in the morning, she poured him a glass of milk and set it in front of him. A yellow gloved hand slowly emerged from the blanket cocoon and felt around the table till it tapped the glass, gently grasping the glass, it withdrew into the cocoon and small gulps could be heard within.

Since the toon was busy with his milk Allison cleaned up the table some putting away the cookbooks and clearing up most of the bowls that were filled with dough. She set out a plate of white chocolate pancakes she made up earlier and a tub of syrup. She grabbed a chair and waited for the toon to emerge from his wrap and for her husband to enter the kitchen.

She didn't wait long, Tom entered the kitchen fully clothed and moaned as he opened up the cabinets grabbing 3 plates, and then the cutlery drawer grabbing 3 forks. He came to the table setting the plates and forks down taking a seat next to Benny. Tom wasn't a morning person and his coffee binge hadn't quite kicked in fully.

Benny slowly emerged from his cocoon setting the half empty glass of milk down on the table while Tom set two pancakes on Benny's plate, before grabbing two of his own. Both man and toon yawned at the same time as they both sleepily dug into their food, and occasionally nursing their respective drinks. Benny had his glass of milk while Tom still had his pot of coffee.

Allison had to stifle a laugh watching the man and toon seemingly mirroring each other. She quickly took a bite of her own food before she could possibly laugh that would let her companions know of her observing them.

The kitchen was silent say for the hums of appreciation for the food until a ding sounded off in corner next to the oven. Allison quickly got up from the table and slid on a oven mitt before she opened up the oven, reaching in and grabbing a now baked tray of cookies setting them atop the stove to cool.

"What are you baking?" the small plushdevil inquired as he finished off his glass of milk, now noticing the bowls of dough at the end of the table.

"Sugar cookies, thumbprint cookies, snowball cookies, chocolate chip cookies and peanut butter cookies." Allison listed off the varieties, looking at the tray cookies cooling on the stove while lightly patting them to ensure that they were fully baked. “I already made chocolate chip, thumbprint, and snowball. All I have left is the Sugar cookies and peanut butter cookies” She removed the oven mitt and hung it back on the wall.

"How come you're making so many cookies?" Benny asked while grabbing his now empty plate, he hopped up on a step stool placing it into the sink, then joined Allison at her side as he tried to get a peak at the cookies.

"They are for Christmas." Allison bent down and scooped up the curious demon, lifting him up so he can see the still cooling cookies.

"Christmas?" Benny asked her tilting his head. His hand drifted to the cookies, but Allison lightly tapped his fingers. She wagged her own finger as if telling him 'no not yet'.

"It's that one time of the year where all the assholes try to be nice so they can get presents, and the malls are full of idiots." Tom grumbled from the table, instantly shutting up from Allison's glare.

"It's a time of year where we celebrate many different things and traditions depending on ones belief and origin. For some it's religious, others a seasonal festival, or for the simple sake of family" Allison gently hugged Benny. "I like to think of it as a time to celebrate family."

Benny smiled and hugged in turn feeling Allison's warmth. "Family." he quietly hummed.

"So to celebrate we are going to go out and get a few things to decorate. So go get dressed, so we can go." Allison perked up flashing a ear to ear grin on her face, not even attempting to hide her own excitement.

"Yay!" Benny cheered, wiggling in her arms. Allison set him down and watched him race off to his room to get dressed to go out.

Tom approached her and chuckled at the toons excitement "He really is like a kid"

"Yeah." as Allison leaned into him smiling at were she saw Benny last before he disappeared. The toon was like a child that the couple always wanted, his zest for life and wonder in his eyes upon seeing new things always made Allison and Tom smile.

"I take it you didn't tell him about our guests?" Tom lifted a brow looking down at Allison as she broke away to put the remaining dough in the fridge, and to finish cleaning up the remains of her baking projects on the table.

"No, I want everything to be a surprise. Bendy doesn't even know either, Henry hasn't said anything to him, he and said that he'll be here first thing tomorrow. He told me he's bringing gifts, extra steaks, and a roast. Norman, Sammy and Wally are all carpooling since they are coming from the same direction. They are also bringing gifts and food as well." Allison started grabbing the remaining spoons from the dough and slid them into the sink. "Susie will be coming around the afternoon since her flight doesn't get in till tonight and she needs to rest a bit. She didn't say what she was bringing, but with the guys all bringing stuff it's not going to be a problem. I'm just thankful that they were all more then willing to pitch in."

“Well all things considering after what we all went through, for some of us, we are the only family we have. Being confined for 30 years with the world moving forward while the rest of us were in limbo, we are the only ones that understand each other.” Tom frowned slightly, mentally retracing his steps of the events within the studio. “Though it's not so bad cause we rescued those that matter most; ourselves and the two little toons that bind us all together.” a small smile crept across his face.

The couple's conversation cut short when they saw Benny enter the kitchen dressed in a black coat wearing a beanie to hide his horns. He pie cut eyes practically sparkling with anticipation and excitement, his grin couldn't possibly get any wider. Both husband and wife chuckled, Allison finished cleaning up the kitchen and slipped away to get her coat so they could go out.

Tom ushered Benny to the car and made sure the toon was buckled in as he sat in the drivers seat warming the car up while waiting for his wife. Allison emerged from the house dressed in a large red coat, turning to lock up the house before entering the car. The group drove down the road with Allison doing her best to answer Benny's questions about the holidays, occasionally shooting daggers at Tom when he snuck in a snide comment.

After driving for 20 minutes and Tom raging behind the drivers seat, they pulled into the local shopping center that was packed full of people rushing around with bags and boxes. Benny looked nervous from his back seat, he had never seen so many people before. He wasn't used to the shopping center being so active. Allison had to coax the toon out of the car reassuring him it was ok and that he wasn't going to have any problems. Tom resorting to carrying Benny on his shoulders to ease the toons nerves as they entered the shopping center.

Past the threshold Benny's eyes were wide with amazement, the entire area was decorated with lights of all colors and large orbs with different patterns. Something called garland (as Allison described it) was wrapped around nearly every pole and lined many of the shops. What really astonished him was all the people, it was a sea of people going to and from the shops carrying their purchases like cherished possessions. Benny also noticed that no one seemed to look at him at all, it's like he wasn't there. He had gotten used to people giving him strange looks and while he didn't show it, it was something that always nagged him at the back of his mind that he was different from everyone else. Realizing that he wasn't the center of attention or the topic of whispers made him relax as he gently clung to the top of Toms head.

Tom and Allison wandered towards the back of the center where it was much quieter and away from the mainstream shops, entering the small business district. Both of them strolling from store front to store front, gawking at the decor and items the shops had to offer, eventually stopping at a quiet shop that sold knick-knacks and a household decorum. Benny wiggled on Toms shoulders looking into the window eyeing the simple yet intricate ornaments that hung on a Christmas tree within. Taking that a a sign of interest from the toon, the trio entered the shop.

The elderly shop owner welcomed them as the entered and asked if they were looking for anything in particular, his eyes lingering briefly on Benny before returning his attention to Tom and Allison. Allison told him that they were looking for Christmas ornaments for their tree and expressed an interest in seeing what he had to offer. The old man motioned toward the tree that Benny had been eyeing and told them to take a gander at the ornaments, and to pick out any that they were interested in. They thanked him and wandered to the tree to see the different sample ornaments.

Benny stared at the ornaments in silent admiration, each and every ornament was completely unique. He had grown annoyed that all the other shops had basic glass or plastic balls with no sense of originality, the only things that set them apart was color or pattern. He carefully extended a hand and cupped a silver Teardrop ornament decorated in red holly berry and green leaves, completely taken in by its simplicity and it uniqueness. Tom nodded to Allison, she gently turned the tag on the ornament and jotted down the name on a small note pad.

Tom ultimately set Benny down and let the toon slowly and carefully look at the ornaments on the tree taking great care to not handle too many of them. If he wanted to fully examine an ornament he asked the shop owner if he may get a better look much to the surprise of the old man whom happily obliged. Benny selected a wide variety of tear drop, lampshade, chandelier, egg shaped, indented round ornaments, and only 1 set of regular round ornaments. Each type he picked out were a wide range of colors, and all of them glass. He detested the plastic ornaments.

Allison presented the list of ornaments they desired as the old man collected their box sets one by one. He even threw in a free set for making a good sized purchase, and for the 'well behaved little boy'. Benny chuckled and blushed while Tom paid for the ornaments and the group said their 'thank yous' and 'good-byes' as they departed.

Once they were out of eyesight Benny opened his coat revealing the stitches that spanned the length of his stomach, a injury dealt to him from Joey's attempt at killing him. He reached down and slid his fingers between the folds of the cut and started to pull, stretching the threads that held his stomach together. Both hands on the upper and lower portion of his stomach, he opened it to reveal a gaping maw, strongly resembling a second mouth. It was a unique trait that really separated Benny from Bendy. Bendy lacked hammerspace due to being to warped by the events of the studio and relied more on his demonic strength, while Benny was able to use his stuffed-animal like body to internalize his hammerspace within the injury to his stomach.

With the hammerspace now opened up Benny carefully slid the boxes containing the Christmas ornaments within himself, one by one. The group was thankful that the boxes were relatively small and were able to rest within Benny easily.

Allison checked off her list as they floated from shop to shop collecting small decorations letting Benny pick out what he wanted. She was thankful that he liked simple things, and didn't just grab the first thing he saw. For all the small items Benny offered to store within himself, while the larger items Tom and Allison both carried. Tom didn't let Benny carry too much cause no one within the group, not even Benny himself, knew how much he could carry within his hammerspace without hurting himself. Satisfied at their haul in the mall, the trio hit a local eatery to grab lunch before resuming their errands.

Benny was quietly snoozing in the back seat as they pulled onto a dirt road, the bumpy road jostling the toon out of his nap. "W-Where are we?" he quietly moaned hubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"A Christmas tree farm." Tom hummed from the drivers seat.

Benny carefully slid out of his seat belt and crawled between the front seats, sliding into Allison's lap. She protested briefly but ended up hanging onto the now excited toon as they neared the farm, he eyes lit up as seeing all the different trees. Allison laughed at how the plushtoom went from sleepy to instant energetic in such a short span of time, she only wished he was like that on a regular day.

Allison hung onto Benny as soon as they pulled into the lot and she opened the door, keeping the excited demon from dashing off. She gently set him down holding onto his hand and the trio walked into the entrance of the farm. A large heavy set man happily greeted them with a loud booming voice that spooked Benny enough to run under Allison's coat clinging to her leg like a koala hidden from view. The man took it as the 'young boy' being shy and showed the group on in, Allison treading carefully now that she had a leg weight, silently wishing he clung to Tom, but at the same time thankful he didn't weigh too much.

The jolly salesman showed Tom and Allison around as they looked over different types of trees and the different sizes available. Benny all the while still hiding under Allison's coat occasionally peering out to look at a tree before the salesman would turn his attention to him, which would make him hide all over again. The mans girth would giggle when he burst into laughter every time he would catch the toon looking at him and then hiding again. The couple ultimately decided to get a small Fraser fir tree, it had a nice uniform shape with rich green leaves and smelled divine. The salesman offered to either cut it down, or sell it and its pot, Benny whimpered at the offer of it being cut down so Tom decided to purchase it live.

Since Tom only had a car, The salesman told them that they offer free local delivery within the day and a small fee if it is out of a set range. Allison gave them their name, number, and address so they would know where to deliver the tree and was thankful it was well within the free range, and that they would see it later that evening. Just as they were about leave, Benny shyly poked his head out from between Allison's coat and mumbled a small 'Thank you' to the salesman whom broke into a loud joyous laughter before he knelt down to say 'you're welcome little man' to the hiding toon.

The group piled back into the car and started to head home, Allison checking her wallet to see what their overall expenses for the day were. She was shocked at the figures, she had gone off the stereotypical 'children are expensive' commentary she heard from parents and figured Benny would be the same, he was the exact opposite. He picked out reasonably priced items and kept his choices very small in comparison to actual human children. It warmed her heart that the toon was very conscious about other peoples financial well-being.

Allison leaned over and whispered in Tom's ear and he smiled taking a little detour in their trip home. They pulled into a more secluded section of their community, parking the car alongside a large assisted living home. It wasn't far from their home, only about a 5 minute walk.

Allison reached into the backeat to wake Benny who had dozed off again on the way back from the tree farm. He opened his eyes and recognized his surroundings getting out of the car all grins with renewed energy. He was instantly greeted by one of the elderly women known as Mae that lived at the home as she picked the toon up and carried him inside with Tom and Allison right behind her.

Benny was brought into a massive living room that had little division between it, a dinning room, and the kitchen. He set his coat and hat down and was instantly greeted by other elderly women, all of them taking turns passing the toon around all hugging and kissing him. When Allison and Tom both had to work where they would be gone for a day or two, they would ask the local nursing home to care for Benny. The toon was like a grandson to the women and for some, a grandchild they never had.

Each woman lavished him with affection until they finished passing Benny around, all eagerly looking at him as the oldest of them all slowly approached him with a box in hand. Benny stilled as he waited for her approach. The elder dark skinned woman was slow and shaky, but it didn't stop her from stooping slightly to wrap the toon in a one arm hug.

"It is so nice to see you sweetie." She softly spoke while she hugged him as tight as she could.

"It's nice to see you too Grandma Louise." Benny gently returning the hug, standing on his toes to keep her from bending over too far.

Grandma Louise slowly broke the hug and held out the small box she had in her hand. Benny carefully took the box from her and looked up at her, she nodded her head giving him the 'go-ahead' to open the parcel.

Benny delicately opened the box being careful not disturb it's wrapping too much and froze when he saw what was contained within. He carefully pulled out a handcrafted Christmas ornament that looked like a miniature version of himself, it even had a small date embroidered on it as to the year he was created.

"All of us made it together." Grandma Louise smiled as she gestured to the rest of the elderly ladies all of them smiling warmly at him. The 'local grandmas' and many referred to them, was a small group of 5 elderly women in the local nursing home that often would make gifts by means of sweaters, quilts, scarfs, etc... They were all seamstress and loved the little stitched demon, they were even teaching him how to sew different patterns, how to make his own toys and even clothing.

Benny had large inky tears as he hugged grandma Louise, he was overjoyed and couldn't describe his happiness is proper words, devolving into making happy squeaky toy noises instead. The other grandmas taking turns hugging the toon as he regained his voice thanking them all profusely.

Another one of the grandmas simply known as just 'Grandma', handed Ben a 'Royal Dansk Danish butter cookie' tin and whispered for him to enjoy it later. Tom eyeballed the tin and made mental note to ask Benny for a few cookies later. Benny hugged and thanked her asbefore Allison suggested they get going. The grandmas hugged the trio, all of them taking turns thanking them and promising to visit again soon. Benny collected his coat and hat as they waved good-bye and piled back into the car and resumed their trip home.

Back at the house Tom unpacked the car and carried all the bags inside while Allison opened up the door for him, with Benny right behind carrying some of the smaller boxes. They set the bags and boxes on the couch and all of them sat down to take a short breather.

Their break was short lived when they got a phone call alerting them that the tree delivery was on their way with their tree. Allison cleared a corner in the living room and laid out a rug so when the tree arrived it had a spot ready to go. Once the tree arrived Tom helped the crew carefully bring it in, while it wasn't the largest tree in the world it still ate a lot of the doorway and hallway as they moved it to the living room, plus it's pot certainly wasn't helping matters. Benny stayed out of sight all the while they were wrestling with the stubborn Fir. They set the tree down in it's respective spot, Thomas paid the crew for their troubles and signed the delivery invoice. With the crew now gone, Benny came out of his hiding spot and joined Tom in the living room while Allison went into the kitchen.

"Now that the tree is in place lets set up the lights." Tom smiled at Benny. He happily agreed as they opened up the boxes containing the lights. Strand by strand Tom and Benny wrapped the tree in lights, Tom muttering about feeling like he was lighting up time square with the amount of strands they were going through. Despite the size of the tree Allison insisted on having lots of lights. Tom had to keep Benny from plugging them in saying that you 'save the best part for last'.

Allison chuckled as she watched the man and toon wrap the tree from the kitchen. She had pulled her doughs back out of the fridge and resumed her baking spree. The house full of the smells of cookies and pine from the tree.

Once the tree was completely wrapped, Tom admired their handiwork before bending down to pick Benny up. "Remember the ornament the grandma's gave you?" Benny nodded in Toms arms. "Well that ornament goes on the tree after the star is put on. It is the first ornament that is hung and the rest follow." Tom gestured to the top of the tree.

Benny reached inside his hammerspace and pulled out the 'star' as Tom called it, but to him it didn't look like the typical stars he saw in the markets earlier in the day. The 'star' was almost pole like with 2 spheres with a large indentation in each sphere. It was brightly colored with intricate patterns dancing on the outside as well as within the indents.

Tom lifted Benny up high enough to reach the top of the tree so Benny could carefully slide the star on top.

"Now for the grandmas ornament." Tom smiled lowering Benny slightly.

He reached within his hammerspace again and pulled out the box containing his ornament. He gently pulled it out of its box and hung it on the tree near the star. Tom set Benny down and watched as Tom fished out two different boxes from a tote he pulled out of the garage earlier, and opened them up. He pulled out two different ornaments a teddy bear and a koala, each with different years engraved on them and hung both the ornaments next the Benny's.

"What are those?" Benny asked as he pointed to the unfamiliar ornaments that were just hung.

"Those are my and Allison's first Christmas ornaments." Tom grinned as he looked at Benny.

"First Christmas?" Benny tilted his head.

"Yep." Tom reached back down and picked Benny up so he could see the ornaments better "See when a family has a child, the first thing they do for Christmas is get a ornament that represents that child's first Christmas and the year they were born" he pointed at the year engraved on his teddy bear ornament "this was the year I was born." then his finger drifted to the koala ornament "and this was the year Allison was born." he hand now resting under Benny's ornament "and this year, you were born."

"Ornaments representing the family are always put near the top while ornaments that represent friends, or life events go all around the tree." Allison chimed in holding a tray of cookies.

Benny glanced at the 3 ornaments on the tree and the closeness shared between. Family. The 3 of them, like the ornaments, are a family. He made a happy noise as he hugged Tom. Allison and Tom considered him family, the toon felt a warmth in his chest as he couldn't have been happier.

"All right little guy, can you get me the rest of the ornaments so we can finish up the tree?" Tom chuckled in Benny's hold.

The toon nodded and hopped down opening up his stomach hammerspace pulling out the ornament boxes one by one until he retrieved them all closing his stomach back up. Tom always thought it was amazing how the toon utilized the unfortunate injury to his advantage and continues to use it to help out as best he can.

Tom and Benny took half an hour carefully 'decorating' the tree as they liked to call it. To Allison it looked a controlled chaos of colors and shapes from the different ornaments. She urged them to take a break and enjoy some milk and cookies before decorating the rest of the house.

"Oh yeah... Hey Benny." Benny looked up at Tom as he shoveled a cookie into his mouth. "Why don't you open up that cookie tin you got from the grandmas."

Benny nodded and pulled out the tin in question from the hammerspace and opened it with Tom eagerly looking over his shoulder, dead panning upon seeing it's contents.

Within the cookie tin was a carefully made sewing kit, 4 small dividers had been glued within the tin and each divider contained different things. One had buttons of various sizes and colors. The second had small spool of different color thread. The third had a small push pin cushion with pins and several sewing needles in it, and the forth one had a small pair scissors and a seam ripper. Benny was absolutely elated at getting such a useful and thoughtful gift. Tom on the other hand was thoroughly disappointed and yet and the same time wasn't completely surprised by the true contents of the tin, after all what grandma doesn't have a cookie tin sewing kit?

Benny eagerly ran to his room to put the tin away and while he was gone Allison gave Tom a few cookies to cheer the depressed man up. By the time Tom and Benny had started to decorate the house, Allison had finished up baking the last of the cookies and joined the in the festivities.

Tom volunteered to start setting up the lights outside while Allison and Benny decorated the interior of the home. A large red and black cloth was draped around the mantle with 3 stockings hug from it. The counter that divided the living room and hallway had a red cloth draped over with a black candle centerpiece paired by 2 red and black plaid reindeer on each side. Soft white Christmas lights were strung inside on the ceiling, outlining the hallways and living room providing a soft warm light. The tree had yet to be plugged in as they waited for Tom to finish up stringing lights outside.

Allison returned to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate as Benny slipped outside to help Tom. The poor toon got wrapped up in the lights and was accidentally hung with them. Tom doubled over laughing as he freed the distressed demon who was convinced the lights were out to get him. Benny spent the rest of the evening holding the ladder for Tom and stayed far away from the strands of lights, chuckling at Tom's occasional grumbling of the sheer quantity of the brightly lit cords.

With the lights strung and Benny clinging to Tom, they finished up with the lights and were immediately welcomed with a mug of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows and 2 cookies each upon returning to the house. Both man and toon hummed happily while they sat at the couch in the living room sipping their respective drinks and munching on the cookies. Allison waltzed past them and finally plugged in the Christmas tree which made Benny's eyes sparkle in wonder. Allison chuckled at how entranced the plushdemon was as she curled up next to Tom sipping on her own hot cocoa as the three of them silently admired the Christmas tree.

Evening bleed into night and Benny ended up curling up in Toms lap passed out from all the days excitement. Tom smiled warmly as he carefully scooped up the little plushdemon and carried him off to bed. Making sure Tom had Benny long out of earshot, Allison hopped on the phone talking to their upcoming guests and ironing out the plans for the morrow.

Tom returned to the living to see Allison on the phone, she occasionally would give him the thumbs up as she called each and every person on their guest list, everyone was going to be able to make it, and everything was going according to plan. Both Allison and Tom smiled at each other as they both were looking forward to what tomorrow was going to bring.

Notes part 2: Much of the story is actually taken from my own childhood as my father  used to take my sister and I to get 1 new set of ornaments a year. Back then Christmas ornaments weren’t all just round balls like they are today. The Star described is a real star that I have on my own tree that is far older then I am, apparently the ‘tree topper’ is described as ‘old world’ and ‘vintage’. The design was quite popular back in the 60′s according to my folks, and saly it is a design that isn’t seen in the markets today. Some if not nearly all the ornaments I described are only found online or in rare specialty shops that don’t follow the mainstream uniformity.

The elderly home described is actually a real place (was). My grandmother ran a board and care home (Oh the irony), taking care of up to 4 or 5 elderly patients at a time. I spent most of my childhood in that home surrounded by many grandmothers and grandfathers.

When I get the time I’m probably gonna do some rough sketches to add on to the story but that’s when I can find the time.

[parkersrevenge]

“Did everyone else come with a date?” with Charles Sumner please.

This did not go in a direction either of us probably anticipated, but I’m on this particular kick lately and I cannot help myself:

Charles Sumner stared at

the invitation grasped firmly in his hands, still in utter disbelief that he

was going. Yes, he had befriended George Ticknor ages before, and had attended

countless parties thrown by Ticknor and his wife. It was commonly accepted in

and around Boston that any party that the Ticknor’s threw was considered the

event of the year, and to be invited was a great honor. Once again, Charles had made their list. Despite that fact, it was still a shock to him that

people seemed to enjoy his company at all. Self-doubt was crippling that way,

and though he agonized over the intrusive thoughts, he accepted the invitation

all the same.

He didn’t live too

far from them, so he decided to walk, hoping it would help calm his nerves. He found

himself in the main hall about 15 minutes later, a little cold but no worse for

wear. Before he had even fully pulled his coat off, a familiar voice rang out

from down the hall. “Charles!”

Fanny Longfellow

looked positively radiant at the foot of the stairs, waving him over as

excitedly as propriety allowed. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she whispered as he

stepped beside her. “I hear the Ticknors have a special surprise for us this

evening.”

“Do they?” Charles

asked, vaguely curious. His main goal for the evening was simply trying to survive

it, but if the Ticknors had some sort of Christmas surprise, that could

potentially be a bit of fun.

“No one knows exactly

what, but I have some guesses.” Fanny grinned, taking his arm.

It was at that

moment he noticed something important was missing from the scene. “Where’s

Henry?”

“Probably talking

with Corny, I’d wager. Or sampling the wine table,” she laughed, giving his arm

a squeeze.

“And why are you

standing here all by yourself?” he asked, patting her hand gently.

“I can handle

myself every once in a while. Though present company is certainly a marked

improvement.” Charles’ cheeks reddened at that, but he smiled all the same.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Arm in arm, the

two of them made their way to the main ballroom. Henry, sure enough, was off to

the side, sipping a glass of red wine. The Ticknors were parading around the

room triumphantly, King and Queen of their own tiny little kingdom. Friends and

acquaintances alike were dancing the night away or talking happily in the

corners. Children ran around the room, firing off poppers and playing games. It

was picture perfect, like something out of a story book.

The ballroom

itself was filled with garlands of holly draped artfully along the walls, and wreaths

hanging quaintly in the windows. In the center of the room stood a table, with

a large screen standing upon it. Beside the screen were sundry presents, each

addressed to one of the young boys and girls in attendance. Charles wondered

what was hidden behind the screen, but Fanny seemed even more curious than he

did.

With Henry and

Fanny now by his side, Charles seemed to visibly relax, though something tugged at the back

of his mind. He couldn’t place it at first, but as more and more people

trickled in, he realized just how paired off all the adults in the room were.

“Fanny…” he

finally asked, after chatting away with her and Henry for a while. “It could be

my imagination, but… did everyone else come with a date?”

Henry and Fanny surveyed

the room. It wasn’t entirely the

case. It would have been almost impossible for Charles to be the only one

present without a plus one. There were certainly others in his shoes, but far

less than one would expect at such a large party. Even the teenagers in the

room seemed to have paired off for dancing and courting- their parents keeping

close, watchful eyes on them.

Fanny smiled,

taking Charles’ hand. “Not quite... Tom certainly didn’t.”

Sure enough, Fanny’s

brother had also come to the party alone, but unlike Charles he savored being

the center of attention and found himself surrounded by a large group of admirers.

Henry also smirked,

putting the glass of wine down and squeezing Charles’ arm reassuringly. “You’re

not alone, Carlos. Especially with us.”

Charles nodded, unconvinced.

“It’s true,” Fanny

pressed. “You’re one of us, aren’t you?”

As Henry and Fanny

both stared up at him expectantly, Charles felt the heat rising to his face

again. Uncomfortably clearing his throat, he nodded, trying to avoid eye

contact. Perhaps he had imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw Henry and

Fanny wink at one another.

“Attention!

Attention!” Ticknor suddenly yelled, a bright smile on his face. “Everyone, make

a circle now- children in front of me, there we go- now, before we get to

presents, it’s time to show you what our grand surprise is.”

As the trio made

their way closer to the center of the room, the lights around them began to

dim.

“Merry Christmas,

my friends,” Ticknor smiled, and with a wave of his hand the servants pulled

the folding doors of the screen, revealing a beautiful Christmas tree inside.

The children

gasped with delight to see the tree done up in gold and red, with candles illuminating

its branches. Henry and Charles smiled, both wrapping an arm around Fanny-

Charles somewhat more tentatively. Fanny didn’t seem to notice, completely

enraptured by the sight before them.

“I’ve never seen

one before,” she whispered reverently, looking far happier than all the

children around her.

“Let’s make it a

tradition, then,” Henry replied, kissing her cheek. “What do you say, Carlos?”

“It’s very…

German.” Charles responded awkwardly, trying and failing to be helpful.

Fanny just laughed,

still captivated. “Someday you’ll feel Christmas spirit, Mr. Sumner. Someday.”

“I assure you, Mrs.

Longfellow. This is the most I’ve felt in a very long time.”

Fanny and Henry

both looked up at him again with the warmest expressions on their faces. Charles returned the look, pulling them both a little closer.

As the three leaned

into one another, happily observing the odd new tradition in front of them, Charles couldn’t help but feel that this was exactly where he belonged.

[monsterlovinghours]

All of the soft asks 👀

WOW you're literally the sweetest and I love you so much 💖💖💖💖🌸Blankets: Have you been in love? -Yes! Am currently still in love.🌸Stuffies: How did you meet your best friend? -One I met at a college worship service, and the other I met on OkCupid.🌸Fluffy Pillows: What happened in your most recent dream? -Sadly, I very rarely remember my dreams.🌸Scented Candles: How do you relax? -Hot soaks with a bath bomb, lots of orgasms, rain sounds, and retail therapy. Not necessarily in that order. 😉🌸Gem Stones: What’s your birthstone/favourite stone?-My birthstone is sapphire, but my favorite stone is amethyst. I actually have a tattoo of a cluster of amethyst crystals.🌸Pyjamas: Describe your favourite pyjamas!-Black cotton shorts and a tshirt. Add socks in the wintertime. 🌸Fuzzy Socks: What’s your favourite movie?-It (2017) followed closely by Silence of the Lambs.🌸Kittens & Puppies: Name of your pet or your ideal pet? I have two kitties, Ryu and Salem.🌸Laughter: What’s the funniest joke you’ve heard? It wasn't so much a joke as my friend being funny, but not too long ago my friend Chris was over, and at some point one of the potatoes in our pantry had escaped and was just lying on the kitchen floor. About the time we all noticed there was just...a potato, just hanging out, Chris dramatically throws his arms out toward this wayward potato and in an impeccable Irish accent, yells "HENRY ME SON, WHAT WOEFUL FATE HAS BEFALLEN YE? NEVER A FINER LAD THERE WAS IN THE VALLEY." I don't think I took a breath for ten minutes.🌸Mittens: Do you like the snow? I love it!!!🌸Hot Coco: What’s your favourite Starbucks drink? I don't really go to Starbucks that often except for PSL season, so we'll say pumpkin spice.🌸Soft Kisses: Describe your OTP I self-ship a lot, so my OTP is my self-insert Molly and whichever Bill Skarsgard character I'm currently obsessed with. Right now, it's Henry Pearl, the softest of boys. 🌸Rainy Days: What do you do on a rainy day?Open all the windows, put on Brian Crane, drink lots ofntea, and take naps. 🌸Flower Petals: What’s your favourite flower?The iris! It's sort of become a symbol for the women in my family.🌸Cotton Candy: What’s your favourite candy? Reeses, in all its variations.🌸Bubble Baths: Your favourite memory? When I was 18 and my cousins took me to go see The Producers at the Starlight Theatre.🌸Wooly Scarfs: What song do you think relates the most to you? Oh God. I honestly don't know, I relate songs more to characters than to myself. I guess Raglan Road, by the High Kings.🌸Roasted Marshmallows: Your camping with friends! Describe the forest you’re pitching your tent in. Well, it's right next to a lake. The trees aren't very old, and there's still plenty of light because the leaves are starting to turn and fall. We're bundled up in cozy sweaters at night, and the fire is big and bright.🌸Bird Songs: Name 5 things you love 1. The fact that Bill Skarsgard exists2. Roses3. Black cats4. My friends who put up with my bullshit5. My online community🌸Old Books: Do you read? If so, what’s your favourite book series? I do! I really like the Iron Druid series, though offhand I can't remember who writes it. Of course I love Harry Potter, have since 2nd grade. And I really want to get more into the Parasol Protectorate series.🌸Warm Hugs: Who would you love a hug from right now?Bill Skarsgard or Tom Hiddleston. Just wrap this big ol' gangly limbs around me and rock until I forget I was ever sad.🌸Clouds: What’s the best shaped cloud you’ve seen?When I was young, I saw a cloud that was almost exactly shaped like our Christmas tree angel. Also I saw this cool wall cloud a few years ago that actually ended up being a tornado later that night. We chased the damn thing for about seven miles then went drinking. Welcome to Kansas.🌸Fae: Describe yourself as a fairy Chubby, literally always covered in sparkles, purple everything, moth-like wings.🌸Holding Hands: What was the name of your first love? Tobi. 💖🌸Cupcakes: Favourite cupcake flavour? Red velvet 🌸Tealights: Describe a romantic date perfect for you Dinner (doesn't matter where), a walk through the Plaza, kissing by all the fountains-there's a lot of them. End with a drive out to the country with some blankets and a bottle of wine to stargaze. 🌸Gardens: What’s the sweetest gift you’ve received?Last year for Valentine's day, my girlfriend got me a custom book full of 50 things she loved about me. She also gave me this giant jar full of Hershey's kisses, and she said, "There's 365 in there. One for every day I couldn't kiss you." (We were long distance at the time)

[northamericanreview]

Found Documents from the Life of Neil Johnson Doerr by Tom Averill

 The trick of the fiction writer is the beautiful lie, writing words to create experiences that never happened.  When the novel was still “novel,” writers often imitated nonfiction forms: diaries, like the great Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte; or letters, like Samuel Richardson’s Pamela; or travelogues, like Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe.  Writers are still up to the same trick, so much that Lucy Ives coined a term for it in a 2016 blog in The New Yorker.  She calls the genre, “archival fiction.”​

          My new novel, Found Documents from the Life of Nell Johnson Doerr, published this spring by the University of New Mexico Press, is all archives. The book is a collection of letters, diary entries, notes, newspaper articles, and drawings, all purported to have been found in an old suitcase.  So, my novel is comprised entirely of false documents.  Set in Lawrence, Kansas, between 1854-1890, Found tells the story of Nell Johnson Doerr, who, after losing her husband in Quantrill’s Raid in 1863 and after discovering, while hiding in her basement, the forms of ancient creatures in the foundation rock, becomes fascinated with fossils.  In her study of bryozoans, she becomes an amateur invertebrate paleontologist, eventually writing a paper presented in Washington, D.C.  As it happens, Nell is a character from my novel Rode, a baby rescued from the embers of her dead parents’ cabin in 1825 on the Hatchie River of Tennessee and adopted by Robert and Jo Johnson.  She and her husband move to Lawrence to be part of the Underground Railroad.

         An imagined archive is as demanding as a real archive.  Given my subject, I researched the political history of the U.S. and Kansas.  I learned the names of Lawrence merchants, the history of railroad and dam building, the Unitarian church, and the fledgling days of Kansas University.  Since Nell was an amateur paleontologist, I learned about fossils, as well as the history of science—when people knew what about rock formations and fossil deposits in and around Lawrence.  After the “fact finding,” I took the advice I give other writers:  “Know it cold, then write it hot.” Still, I had to find voices and vocabulary true to character, time, and place.

        Writing is a form of discovery. It is also, as writer Ben Lerner has said, a form of very close reading. Words put voice and flesh onto the page, one at a time, and the writer must pay close attention to what the words are saying, sensually and emotionally.  As a writer, I want to be controlled by words, guided and led by language.  In Writing the Australian Crawl, Kansas poet William Stafford likens writing to swimming, trusting language like water, to hold you up.  If writing is close reading, writing archival fiction is like transcription.  I often felt like I was transcribing, rather than creating, what Nell and the other characters wrote.  I “read” their words as I was writing them.  I felt lucky through the process.  Here is Nell’s voice in an 1855 letter to her sister:  Mary, I have left Arkansas, and family, and the two babes earthed in our family plot.  I have given up my garden, my precious roses nodding with dew in dawn light.  I have given up trees, and make do with grass.  I have given up streams and creeks for ditches and draws.  I have given up shade for punishing sun and gentle rain for cloudbursts.

        Finally, as with any set of documents, the researcher/writer must find in them the metaphors that create meaning.  Nell Doerr was, after all, rescued, discovered, found as a baby, and she is also a rescuer (as in her work on the Underground Railroad), a discoverer (of fossils), and a finder (of science and of herself).  I set the novel in the nineteenth century because science was radically changed by On the Origin of Species, published by Darwin in 1859, and because those years were so supportive of amateur science.  They were also years when women began to make strides.  Nell represents both movements.  At the end of the novel, her sister sends her a stone.  Nell writes:  

           The stone is a geode. That it was gathered from the place of my birth and near death is a shock to me.  How much else was kept from me? . . .

           I broke the rock, one clean hit of hammer on chisel.  Each half was a cave of purple crystals, amethyst, like sharp teeth, jagged, mirroring light, color softening at the points, a beauty hidden all these years.  My father knew what was inside.  He wanted to break the rock.  But he did not.  So much of what we know is on the surface only.  Many think we are not meant to delve deeply.  We are afraid to break the rock.  Who knows what we might find inside?  I have broken the rock and found beauty.  Over and over I have broken the rock.

          As I sought and discovered, and, yes, “found” the world of Nell Johnson Doerr, I was creating a beautiful lie that told the truth, just as I imagined she herself was doing in her diary and letters.  Such was my pleasure in writing this novel using the device of archival fiction.

Thomas Fox Averill, an O. Henry Award-winning fiction writer, is Professor Emeritus of English at Washburn University, where he taught creative writing and Kansas literature for 37 years. His fifth novel, Found Documents from the Life of Nell Johnson Doerr, is just out from University of New Mexico Press, which also published the award-winning Rode (2011) and A Carol Dickens Christmas (2014).

My name is Christian Ruiz. I am a freelance illustrator and animator. I combine traditional and digital media for editorial and fantasy illustration, comics, and animation.

Follow his Instagram here.