#bracing myself for thanksgiving dinner

[vonclosen]

thanksgiving in america is a time in which non-indigenous people should be reflecting on colonialism and the fact that people had to die so they could have their stupid bullshit holiday

but also. just know that us indians like a day off work to eat food and see our families too so like. idk maybe just leave the lie about us all being happy friendly pals out and just eat dinner with your loved ones. ok?

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Melaka Mystica (Part 2/3)

November 27, 2023

Notes - This month has been pretty dang good as I got a car, marched in a parade, made Thanksgiving dinner on my own for the first time (and didn't burn anything other than my energy and my mom's only remaining brain cells 😂), but then my uncle's cat, Budweiser (Buddy) who was 17 and I loved as my own, passed away after getting his final fill of turkey. He was an amazing old boy and I'll miss him dearly, but at least he's with the rest of my family, getting all the attention he could ever want! Honestly, though, I'm proud of myself for getting this done before the end of the month with all that happened around me! This is pretty much just 33 pages of me going off the rails at 3am and typing until my hands hurt, but it's worth it in the end! Anyway, I might need to invest in a wrist brace for carpal tunnel at this point 🙈😂

You all are clearly in over your pretty, little heads.

Metal dragged across old bricks, scraping a pile of leaves into a growing heap by the side of the road. As much as Mick hated being relegated to raking the sidewalk outside of her family’s shop, it got her away from the overbearing smell of incense packets and burning sage. Ever since the incident on Halloween, she had been suffering through her days at work. Things at the store had never been difficult for her before Halloween, but if the books Miles had been sending her excerpts of were anything to go by, all of her new problems were partly due to the possession she’d faced. Whatever had possessed her that day had left lingering traces of itself in her, making it damn near impossible for her to get through a workday. Whatever it had been, must have hated sage and incense, which, if she thought about it, made sense as negativity was supposed to be pushed out with a sage cleansing.

Regardless of how often she stepped out to breathe, her headaches only increased when someone would pull an incense stick from the wicker basket by the shop door to see how it smelled. She had tried to use one of the aromatherapy inhalers Carrie had bought her - something the blonde said she used to keep her sinuses clear during the winter if she had a show to perform in - but those only helped so much in the little shop. With customers pulling incense sticks from their packages to smell them properly, teens opening candles or essential oils, and groups of kids on field trips being obnoxious during Carrie’s performances, Mick was ready to down a bottle of Tylenol and pass out.

Thankfully, business had slowed down a considerable amount once Halloween passed. However, there were still the odd tourists coming and going in search of souvenirs and regulars looking for new crystals or a refill of their favorite incense. Once the local schools let out, they would get swarms of children and teenagers alike, pushing and shoving their way into the small store for cheap drinks or snacks. Some days were better than others, where they would get mostly older people coming in for replacement items or wanting a tarot reading. However, there were days when there would be an ignorant, middle-aged person looking to speak with the manager or owner - someone other than some “twenty-something little shit,” as most of them put it. On days like those, Mick wondered why her parents would give her the store if she had to deal with people like that all day. 

Then again, they weren’t entirely retired, and people who knew and loved her parents would sometimes come in asking specifically for them. Mick never minded stepping into the back room and quickly calling either of her parents, asking them to stop by. After Halloween, however, the stress of everything had been too overwhelming. More often than not, Mick wanted nothing more than to call up her parents and give the shop back to them, telling them that she just couldn’t handle it. However, she had managed to fight through the first week of November without having to call her parents for anything more than a friendly visit and felt as though things would get better over time.

Then came the eleventh. Due to Veteran’s Day, the schools were closed, and the city’s parade was set to go through the streets, honoring those who had served in any branch of the military - alive or dead. Parade days meant busy business, and, to her dismay, many of those who had marched through the streets had come to the Coven’s Cottage for a hot cider and some of Mrs Murphy’s homemade cider donuts. With so many different emotions coming at her from everyone who stepped in the door, Mick got overwhelmed quickly. After a sobbing woman and her children came inside, Mick realized she was shaking like a leaf. After sending the girl to the back to calm down, Miles and Carrie were left to fend for themselves while an overwhelmed Mick hid in the break room to cry through the pain of a slaughtering migraine. Once things had calmed down and Mick was able to think properly, Miles convinced the brunette to wave her white flag, and she asked her parents for help. 

Later that night, Mick had Miles and Carrie go home with her as witnesses so that her parents would see that she wasn’t just talking out of her ass. With his previous knowledge of magic, Brady was, understandably, concerned for his daughter’s health and mental well-being and began pacing - showing an anxious, overthinking side of the man that none of the young adults had seen before. On the other hand, while Mack had no magical ties of her own, the woman was determined to find a way to help her only child, looking into books and articles that could help cleanse Mick of any lasting effects from her possession. After sitting the older couple down once more and having them take the time to read over some of the things Miles and Carrie had found in their research for Mick, Mack and Brady agreed to put their daughter on lighter duty at their family shop, resuming their original positions as co-owners.

While the slightly lesser traffic in the shop and her parents helping out made things a bit easier on Mick’s headaches, she still felt physically drained just sitting in her family’s shop. Unlike Vivien or Royce, she didn’t have the ability to say her lungs were tight when someone tried to light sage or incense or claim her blood pressure was acting out whenever she got dizzy sitting at the register. In reality, with her parents and friends hovering almost every day, she was forced to get out and walk around town more frequently, giving her some fresh air. However, on days when the air outside was sitting in the forties, and the wind was like a cruel slap to the face, Mick despised being sent outside. She knew that, all too soon, the air would be too cold to breathe without a scarf over her face, and the ice on the ground would make it too difficult to make it from one place to another without slamming into the sidewalk, but that didn’t make her appreciate the moderately chilly autumn. 

Heaving a huff of frustration as a nearby car barrelled down the street to beat a changing traffic light, the icy breeze dragging off of the vehicle and scattering her hard work into the wind, and Mick rolled her eyes. She was sick of raking meaningless piles of leaves, sick of being pushed aside and asked to do menial tasks just because she had a hard time sitting around in the shop. She could have been doing so much more to help out around the shop! She could organize the storage room, put new stock out on the shelves, or help give aura readings or something - anything! She was so tired of being useless to everyone she cared about.

With a shake of her head, Mick sucked in a breath and sighed before turning back toward the shop. The bell above the door chimed - a replacement for the cackling witch sound they had put up for Halloween - and Mick leaned the rake against the wall by the door before tugging her gloves and hat off and shoving them into the pockets of the maroon, fleece-lined coat her parents had bought her years ago. The pocket zippers had been melted open after she had unceremoniously tossed the coat in front of the heater once, the faux fur lining around the hood was slightly matted after having used it for so many frigid winters, and the elastics in the cuffs of the sleeves had lost their grip a long time ago, but the coat kept her warm and, to Mick, that was all that mattered.

The smell of burning sage filled the small shop, and although Mick would have usually taken a big whiff of it to calm herself, she refrained as a woman with a bag of incense sticks stepped around her to leave. As Mick ditched her coat on the rack behind the counter, she stepped up behind her mom and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek before taking a caramel from the dish on the counter and making her way to the back room to see if Miles and Carrie were on their breaks yet. Instead of finding the pair curled up on the couch, talking through the entirety of their break, Mick found her dad sitting in her usual chair, a cup of something in one hand and his phone in the other.

Smiling to herself as she decided to make her presence known, Mick asked, “What happened to doing a tarot reading for Mrs Anderson?”

Looking up from his device with a grin, Brady replied, “She got what she wanted and left already.”

“Let me guess,” Mick began as she perched herself on the armrest of her dad’s chair, “she thought her husband was cheating again and wanted to see if it was her sister or the new neighbor?”

“Almost,” Brady chuckled, placing his phone on his leg as he handed Mick his drink for her to try. “She thought it could be the mailman.”

Grateful she hadn’t taken a sip of her father’s drink, Mick let out a bark of laughter, “She thought Mr Anderson - the pastor of their church - was having an affair with her husband?”

Brady hummed, nodding in confirmation as he rhetorically asked, “Who doesn’t she accuse her husband of cheating with?” 

Mick snickered as she handed her father his drink, “Ironic from the woman who has been divorced five times because of her cheating.”

With a shrug, Brady said, “It’s not our place to judge.”

“True.”

After taking a sip of his drink, Brady said, “Your mom and I are heading out early to meet with some friends from school who are back in town for the week. Do you think you, Miles, Carrie, and the kids can handle the shop until closing?”

Nodding, Mick smiled at the idea as she said, “Yeah, of course. We handled it for months on our own before.”

Groaning at the twinge of pain that had grown familiar in his lower back, Brady regretted all of the reckless things he had done in his teen years as he pushed himself out of his chair. Despite only recently turning forty, his body felt as though it belonged to someone nearing eighty. Brady suppressed a grimace as he stretched before turning to his daughter and saying, “That was before you were possessed by ancient magic.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mick slowly nodded in understanding. Regardless of how much she despised how easily that was everyone’s excuse for giving her lighter tasks, Mick understood where they were coming from. If what happened to her had happened to anybody else in her immediate circle, she would have acted the same. Offering her dad a slight grin, Mick allowed him to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “I get it, but honestly, I’m doing pretty well today.”

“Good,” Brady mused. “Try to keep it that way.”

“I will,” Mick claimed as the door to the basement opened, allowing Miles and Carrie to come in.

Brady hummed appreciatively before turning toward the young couple with a smile, “Did you two find that book I told you about?”

“We did,” Carrie said, offering the man her signature smile as Miles held up the thick hardcover book. “Do you really think it’ll help the kids?”

“It should,” Brady stated. “I didn’t get much use out of it, as you know, but it’s been in the family for many generations. If it helped them, why not let the kids use it?”

Miles nodded as he examined the book. The leather bindings were worn and peeling, the spine flexible yet delicate, and it smelled of an old library book that had been left on the shelves for a couple hundred years, but the pages were still crisp, and the ancient calligraphy was very clearly legible. While on the outside, the book certainly looked aged and well-loved, the pages still read as clear as day, making Miles question if it had some sort of protection charm that stood the test of time. Grinning to himself, Miles fleetingly wondered if the book in his hands was the origin of people saying not to judge books by their covers.

Lifting his gaze to meet Brady’s, Miles spoke, “Thanks again, Mr Birch. I know the kids would be interested in diving into actual spells and potions.”

Brady waved him off, “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of it, Miles. However, I do suggest asking your mother to help them with anything involving baking.”

“She is one of the best bakers in Salem,” Mick mused. 

Before Brady could say anything more, the back room opened, and his wife’s head poked inside. “I hate to interrupt,” Mack began, “but it’s almost two, Brady.”

Heaving a sigh, Brady clapped his hands and said, “Well, duty calls, kids.”

As her husband gathered his belongings, Mack asked, “Mick, honey, are you going over to Miles’ house after work?”

“I was thinking about it,” Mick shrugged. “The kids wanted to work on some beginner-level potions.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Brady asked.

“She’d better,” Miles said before Mick could answer. “My mom said she’s making pizza casserole.”

Mick snickered, “I guess I’m staying for dinner then.”

“Alright,” Mack said with a smile, “well, we’ll be back home around six or seven to watch the eclipse if your father can get his butt in gear.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Brady claimed as he pulled his coat around his shoulders. Leaning down, Brady kissed the top of his daughter’s head before whispering to her, “Bring me back some of that casserole.”

“I will,” Mick said with a grin.

“You don’t need any casserole, Brady,” Mack claimed with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re going out to Hanna Devine’s.”

Brady’s expression said it all. Unlike most of the little bistros and restaurants in the city, Hanna Devine’s was a large building on the corner of a busy street that charged prices through the roof for a portion barely significant enough to qualify as a meal. Between the hassle of finding a parking spot and the extensive waitlist for a single table, the restaurant was usually only inhabited by insane people who didn’t mind paying forty dollars for a small piece of steak or twenty-five bucks for a side order of steamed vegetables. Despite attempting to get his point across with a pleading look, Brady found his wife’s piercing gaze and quickly schooled his expression as he sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Mick turned her gaze back to her daughter and said, “If there’s enough, bring us both back some. Chances are, we’ll still be hungry when we leave.”

Making his way to the door of the room, Brady beamed, “This is why I love you.”

“Because I let you get leftovers?” Mack questioned as Brady kissed her cheek. “What about when we got married or when I had to endure nine months of Mick’s punches to my bladder?”

“Of course I loved you then,” Brady stated. “It’s just that I really wanted that casserole.”

“And because I let you have it,” Mack slowly stated, “that’s your primary reason for loving me now?”

As Brady floundered, scouring his mind for something to say, Mick snickered, “Way to word things, Dad.”

“Good luck getting out of that one,” Carrie chuckled.

“There’s a store you can stop at on the way to Hanna’s that sells shovels since you seem to be in a hurry to dig your own grave, Mr Birch,” Miles said with a grin.

“None of you are helping!” Brady exclaimed, looking around at the three young adults with a gleam in his eyes that begged for them to shut up.

Choosing to end her husband’s struggle, Mack snickered, patting him on the arm fondly, “I’m just screwing with you. Now, come on, let’s get on the road before school gets out, and we’re stuck behind eight different buses.”

With a sigh of relief, Brady relaxed, turning back toward the kids with a small smile as he said, “Be good, remember to lock up the shop, and please, for the love of all things holy, remember to bring us back some casserole if there’s any left.”

As Mick gave her dad a mock salute, Miles chuckled, “We’ve got everything under control.”

“Enjoy your dinner with friends,” Carrie said, offering the older couple a wave as they left the room. Once the door was closed, the blonde turned to Mick with a smile and asked, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, for once,” the brunette replied. “I haven’t had any headaches since this morning when the trash truck came, and I’ve gotten through most of the day without needing to step out.”

“That’s good,” Miles said thoughtfully as he set the book for the kids on the couch. “Do you feel up to taking the register until closing?”

Eager to feel useful again, Mick quickly nodded as she said, “Yeah, of course. Are you going to restock or are you going to pick up the kids?”

Checking his watch, Miles said, “I’ll probably pick them up. If I get there early and find their bikes, I’ll put them on the rack before the bell rings.”

Leading the way to the main room of the shop, Mick mused, “Soon, they’ll be needing a ride every day.”

“Especially since it snowed two nights ago,” Miles sighed as he rounded the counter.

“Don’t mention that word,” Carrie said with a shiver. “I was hoping it would hold off until Christmas or something and then never come back.”

“Wishful thinking,” Mick snorted.

Carrie sighed as she slumped against the counter, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “At least we’re not supposed to get any more for a while.”

“When did you hear that?” Mick wondered.

Tugging her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, Carrie swiped around for a moment before showing her friend her weather app. “My phone says the next week or so is clear.”

Mick examined the weather listing before tapping on the screen, “We’ve got rain on Saturday and Wednesday, though. That can become snow if it gets cooler out.”

“But the app says it’s just rain,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s New England,” Miles chuckled as he zipped up his jacket. “The forecast lies.”

Carrie let out a resigned sigh, “I know, but I’m staying as optimistic as possible.”

“Good luck with that,” Miles muttered, his breath brushing across Carrie’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “Do you guys want anything while I’m out?”

“A million dollars,” Mick joked.

“Weathermen who won't lie,” Carrie added.

“A will to live.” 

“Magical powers.”

Glancing between the pair, Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, “I meant things I can pick up from the gas station.”

“Ah,” Carrie breathed. “In that case, I’ll take some cherry Twizzlers.”

“I guess I’ll take some cheesy popcorn,” Mick said with a grin.

“Puffcorn or Smartfood?” Miles asked.

“Smartfood,” Mick said before thanking her friend.

“Weirdos,” Miles mused as he typed in their requests on his phone, knowing the pair would be sharing snacks in no time.

“Proud of it,” the two girls said in startling unison before turning to each other and laughing.

With a shake of his head and a fond smile, Miles pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out the door, passing the shop’s picture windows on his way to his Jeep. Smiling to herself, Mick turned her attention to the music playing over the store’s speakers, switching the radio station to one she knew both she and Carrie enjoyed. As something other than smooth jazz filled the shop, Carrie bopped her head to the beat with a smile before turning her gaze to Mick once more. 

The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. She had watched Mick struggle the first couple of days - the brunette unable to pull herself out of her thoughts. Carrie had spent some time talking things over with Mick during that time, listening to her ramble nonsensically about all that had happened to her and all the struggles she faced. The first two days, Mick had been in a daze, operating on a repetitive cycle out of habit more than anything. Carrie spent a lot of time helping at the register as Mick would often stare off into space or lock herself away in the back room due to headaches. The first few days were difficult as Mick asked people to give her time to think and process, but it seemed to everyone that she had closed herself off from everything and everyone. 

Mick’s relationships with everyone who was there that night had grown strained in that time - the only ones not suffering being Butchy and Lela, as they were only there for the aftermath. Whilst saying they hadn’t always gotten along well in school was an understatement, Carrie and Mick had grown close after Miles started dating the blonde. Over time, a bond had formed, but after Mick’s possession, Carrie could feel the distance between them growing once more. Everyone could. Though the brunette never outright pushed anybody away, they all knew she had come close to it more than once.

Carrie had never seen Mick so despondent and detached as she was in those first days. It took Miles climbing the tree in the Birch family’s backyard and climbing in through Mick’s window for her to begin talking to anyone who had been there. Understandably, Miles was the first person she opened up to as they had always been inexplicably close, but then she opened up to Carrie, and the blonde got to see more of the girl’s inner thoughts laid out before her like a jigsaw puzzle.

The strain Mick felt was palpable. Her hurt was nearly insurmountable, the stress was overwhelming, and the pain she felt whilst reliving and retelling her side of things was evident in her eyes. It took just shy of a week before Mick felt comfortable having the kids around her again. The thought that whatever was left in her might come back to hurt the kids had plagued her night and day, but after hearing that Vivien blamed herself for the older girl being distant, Mick forced herself to meet with them in the Common. They sat on opposite sides of the pavilion Saturday night, Mick asking Miles to tie her to the table with a scarf to keep her from hurting anybody, and that was the first time Carrie felt like crying about Mick’s situation. The thought that the bubbly, doting brunette was so afraid of hurting the kids made Carrie saddened and sick at the same time. Mick didn’t deserve to be scared of every move she made.

By the end of their conversation that night, things had begun to heal, but anyone who knew them could still feel the remnants of strain between Mick and Vivien. Things were slowly getting better between them, but Carrie quickly took note of the wistful glimpses Vivien would sneak of the older girl. Though Carrie, like everyone else, was sure things would return to normal - or some semblance of it, at the very least - she knew it would take time. 

Listening to Mick hum along to the radio, Carrie glanced around to guarantee the shop was empty of customers before clearing her throat and asking, “Speaking of magical powers, I heard that Vivien was trying to find a way to give you some the other day.”

Brown eyes lifted from Mick’s phone and fleetingly met Carrie’s azure gaze before Mick shrugged and returned her focus to her phone, “She was, yeah.”

“I think it’s sweet that she’s trying so hard.”

To Carrie’s chagrin, Mick only shrugged again, “I guess so, but I wish she wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned. “I thought you wanted powers like theirs?”

“That was before I was possessed,” Mick admitted, meeting Carrie’s gaze once more. “I would have done anything for some magic back then.”

“But now?”

“Now I’m scared to even think about having magic.”

Carrie’s smile faltered at the weight of Mick’s statement. In a way, she should have expected that to be Mick’s answer, but in reality, she hadn’t thought about it from the brunette’s perspective. Vivien had gone to Carrie looking for help researching how to give someone magic, and although the pair had spent hours scouring through old books filled with runes and spells and potions, they hadn’t found anything that would allow Vivien to do what she wanted to.

Attempting to appear unfazed, Carrie asked, “How come? With your family’s long, magical bloodline, I would’ve throught you’d want to follow them.”

“I did,” Mick sighed, setting her phone aside in favor of the conversation at hand. “I wanted it more than anything. But now that I know how dangerous I could be if I let power get to my head, I’m sort of glad my dad cut off the line when he did.”

Taking in a slow breath, Carrie asked, “That really bothered you, huh?”

Mick hummed with a nod, “It’s hard to act as though it doesn’t, but I’m trying. I just-” Mick cut herself off with a sigh, “I wish I never read that damn book.”

“What-?”

Before Carrie could get anything more out, Mick cut her off, “If I’d never read that book, I wouldn’t have to live with constant headaches or people looking at me like I’m made of glass or everyone acting as though they need to walk on fucking eggshells around me!” Stopping to take in a breath, Mick ran her hands over her hair before sighing, “What hurts the most is living with the fact that all of this is my fault.”

Though Carrie didn’t want to push her luck with Mick, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How on earth is any of this your fault?”

“If I hadn’t tried to weasel my way into magic,” Mick began slowly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with nothing but sincerity in her caramel eyes, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It wasn’t like you read the book on purpose,” Carrie offered. “Even Butchy said that Casper knocked it over and you just read the first page you came across.”

“He’s right,” Mick confirmed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that, if I hadn’t made the black flame candle or been so determined to give myself magic, none of this would have happened.”

Carrie sighed, placing a hand on Mick’s arm in the hope that it offered the girl some semblance of comfort, “You don’t know that for a fact.”

“That’s just it,” Mick said, a dry, humorless chuckle falling from her lips as her exhausted brown eyes found Carrie’s vibrant blue, “I do.”

“Have a great night,” Royce said as he handed a paper bag to the last customer of the day. He didn’t know how Miles and the girls could handle working there all day, dealing with people in various moods, and handling children being generally obnoxious; he could only handle it for a few hours without wanting to leave. He didn’t mind most of the people who came and went, but there were a select few who were just pure negativity. While Mondays were usually slow in the shop, Royce was surprised to find the clock already ticking over to five as he looked up at the clock. Maybe the time had flown because he, Bentley, and Vivien had the chance to get their homework done between customers for once. Or, as Miles had teasingly suggested, it was due to the fact that he kept watching Vivien help people find crystals.

Royce discretely rolled his eyes at the thought - of course, Miles would tease him for something so small. It was payback for when Royce teased the shit out of Miles when he got with Carrie. Although Miles kept his relationship with Carrie under wraps from their mom, he hadn’t been so lucky when it came to his brothers. At first, his relationship with Carrie was nonexistent, but after a little over a year of them being together and seeing their mom gradually grow to enjoy having the blonde around, Royce found himself not minding Carrie nearly as much as he had initially. Now that he got along alright with Carrie, it was easier to tease Miles about the relationship, ironically giving Miles the right to tease him about Vivien in return.

It wasn’t like Miles and Bentley hadn’t teased him about his fondness for Vivien long before Carrie came into the picture, but it seemed as though Miles felt the situation evened out the playing field. It made sense in a way. Not only was Vivien one of his best friends, but everyone around them knew he had a thing for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret. In a way, he was sure Vivien knew as well, but he couldn’t tell how she felt on the matter. She never pushed him away - it wasn’t in her nature to anyway - but she also never acted upon what was going on. If she felt anything toward him, she never said, but then again, he never really did either. All he knew was that he adored her and, regardless of her feelings toward him, he would care about her until she told him to do otherwise.

Tearing his gaze away from Vivien once more as the door clicked shut, the bells tinkling a final farewell, Royce took in a deep breath and looked around the store for his younger brother. Almost on cue, Bentley pushed himself from his seat on the floor where he’d been reading comic books and scurried to the door, flipping the lock into place with a smile. Turning back to his brother and Vivien, the blond excitedly asked, “Is it potion time now?”

Chuckling as Royce tugged the cash register drawer from its confines, Vivien nodded, “I think it is.”

Setting the drawer on the shelf under the register, Royce leaned against the counter and asked, “Why don’t you go back and tell them that the lady finally left and that we can leave?”

Sending his brother a mock salute, Bentley beamed and set his comic book on the counter before saying, “Sir, yes, sir,” and taking off for the back room, the door swinging back and forth upon his departure. Royce shook his head, sighing as Bentley disappeared. For the greater part of the last week, he’d been subjected to Bentley’s ramblings on potions and which ones he was willing to make. While Royce was glad his younger brother was excited, he sort of wished it wasn’t the only thing they talked about when nobody else was around.

Vivien chuckled, leaning against the counter with a smile, “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that he’s so interested in all this witchy stuff.”

“Yeah, it is,” Royce agreed with a nod. Taking in a breath, Royce began sorting the money from the cash register as Vivien picked up the logbook and started writing down how many of each bill they had. As he finished with the twenties and set them aside, Royce turned to Vivien and asked, “Wait, didn’t you say something earlier about a magic thing you needed to talk about?”

Penciling in the number of bills Royce had counted, Vivien glanced up and nodded, “I did, but let’s finish this first and we’ll talk with the others about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Despite his visible skepticism, Royce gave the brunette a slight nod and said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Vivien nodded her confirmation before urging Royce to continue counting. By the time they were done and the money was put into the safe under the register, the shop’s speakers had been turned off, and the streetlamps outside were on, moths fluttering around them and casting shadows on the sidewalk. Closing the safe and locking it, Vivien followed Royce to the back room where Mick and Miles were debating whether the herbs they had received in the latest shipment should be placed with the hanging herbs or ground and placed with the jars of herbs while Bentley talked Carrie’s ear off on the couch. As Royce latched the swinging door to keep it from moving, Mick paused in her tirade, glancing over at the young pair as they entered the room.

Sensing Mick’s gaze as the conversations in the room stalled, Vivien slowly turned in the older girl’s direction, raising a hand in a wave as she spoke, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mick returned as Miles dropped the issue in favor of observing the interaction. Vivien and Mick hadn’t talked often since Halloween, and although Miles had encouraged both of them to step up and put in the effort, his advice seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the two danced on eggshells around each other. After Miles nudged his longtime friend, encouraging her to put in a bit more effort, Mick smiled and said, “I like your hoodie.”

Vivien glanced down and allowed herself to grin. Her blue and yellow hoodie had been bought off of Etsy and was embroidered with a subtle nod toward the most recent Five Nights at Freddy’s game - a small logo for the Security Breach’s daycare declaring Vivien as a staff member. She had bought more than just the one hoodie from the Etsy shop, blasting her way through most of her first official paycheck as she bought one of each of her favorite characters’ fleece hoodies and matching sweatpants. Despite her love of the game, Vivien had chosen to take the more discreet route in choosing her outfit for the day, keeping things moderately simple to avoid unnecessary attention. Although her hair had covered the design for most of the day, she had pulled her hair back while counting the money, so it seemed only fitting that the one person who had gotten her interested in the franchise was also the one to notice the detail. 

Lifting her head, Vivien smiled and began indirectly quoting the game, “I figured we could finger paint, tell some stories, maybe drink some Fizzy Fazz until our heads explode, and then stay up all night.”

“As fun as that sounds,” Carrie began, “I would much rather we keep our heads intact, thank you very much.”

Sighing as she theatrically rolled her eyes, Vivien huffed, “You’re no fun!”

Mick let out a slight snicker, “As long as we keep the lights on, I doubt any of us will lose our heads.”

As Vivien snorted, dissolving into giggles at Mick’s hinted joke, Carrie glanced between the pair and said, “I’m just going to assume that’s something from the game.”

“It is,” Bentley confirmed.

“And you’re not missing much,” Miles added as he crossed the room to gather his belongings.

“Just a murderous animatronic daycare attendant who hunts you down and kills you if you turn the lights off,” Royce finished with a smirk aimed at the blonde, “that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Carrie echoed, mildly concerned that they had all found an interest in such a game. Attempting to process the thought as both Royce and Bentley nodded in confirmation, Carrie’s eyes widened slightly before closing as she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know how you can find that entertaining.”

“You would if you played it,” Vivien chuckled. 

“Doubtful.”

Choosing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand, Miles leaned against the armrest of the couch and tucked his hands into his pockets as he said, “Anyway, does anyone need to grab anything before we go?”

Despite the others shaking their heads, Royce said, “Viv said she wanted to talk about something after closing.”

Though she hated the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on her, Vivien was surprisingly calm as she nodded, “I did, yeah.”

“What’s up?” Bentley asked as he moved to sit criss-cross on the couch.

Taking a deep breath as Mick pulled a chair out from the table they usually ate lunch at on weekends and sat down, Vivien thought back to her time at school as she said, “I was on my way to the vending machine at school and I ran into Serena.”

“How is she doing now that she and that other girl have gone their separate ways?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah,” Mick began, “are they leaving you guys alone now?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, when I went to walk around her, she grabbed my arm and it was like the whole school lost color.”

Curiously, Miles’ head tipped to the side as he asked, “Like the lights went out?” 

“I didn’t notice anything,” Bentley mentioned.

“No, not like that,” Vivien sighed. Taking a moment to think of something to compare it to, Vivien gestured to the group as she spoke, “Okay, do you guys remember that scene from Harry Potter where Harry meets Dumbledore in the limbo version of the train station and there’s that creepy Voldemort thing under the bench?”

As everyone began nodding, Mick asked, “After Voldemort tried killing him in the forest?”

Vivien nodded, “Exactly. Serena held my arm and the whole school looked like that. Then, when I looked back at her, she was standing in some kind of glass case, banging on the walls and screaming.”

As though Vivien had unplugged a hidden speaker, the room grew silent. Carrie’s sapphire eyes flickered to Mick before landing back on Vivien as Mick’s chocolate eyes flitted down to the floor. Miles took in the seriousness and sincerity in Vivien’s face before moving his gaze onto Mick, wondering to himself if what Vivien described was something she had seen two weeks prior. As Bentley searched Vivien’s face for any sign that she was joking, Royce took a seat beside his younger brother. 

Looking up at Vivien, the middle Murphy brother asked, “Is that why you looked so pale when I found you?”

“That’s part of it,” Vivien nodded. “My blood pressure was low anyway, but the whole Serena thing didn’t exactly help.”

Miles uncrossed his arms as he asked, “How are you now?”

“I’m fine, but that’s not what matters right now,” Vivien sighed. “After Serena let me go, everything around us went back to normal, but there was something about her that just felt off to me.”

Cautiously, Carrie asked, “Like what?”

“Like she wasn’t herself,” Vivien explained. 

“She’s always kind of snarky and rude,” Royce mused with a roll of his eyes.

Vivien nodded, “Well, yeah, but there was this sort of direct, emotionless, borderline-cold tone under it all. It was kind of like - well, I don’t know, actually. It’s hard to describe.”

For the first time since Vivien explained what her interaction with Serena was like, Mick spoke, her tone soft but tense as she asked, “Sort of like she was in the car, but someone else was at the wheel?”

Vivien’s head turned, slowly finding Mick’s form as the brunette’s head lifted, her dark eyes finding Vivien’s with relative ease. Taking in the older girl’s expression, Vivien took in a breath and slowly nodded as she muttered, “Yeah.”

Although the room had grown tense, Carrie scooted to the edge of her seat and attempted to smile as she suggested, “That doesn’t mean Serena’s possessed. She could be having trouble at home or something; that can change someone’s behavior.” 

“But what about the vision Viv saw?” Bentley asked.

Before Carrie could answer, Mick spoke again, “From what I remember, I never gave anybody visions.”

“You didn’t,” Miles confirmed with a slight shake of his head, “but that doesn’t rule it out entirely.”

Trying to offer something other than the worst possible scenario, Carrie stood from the couch and made her way to the growing pile of books the kids had left by the bookshelf as she said, “What if it’s something different entirely?”

“Like what?” Royce asked sarcastically. “It sounds a lot like Serena is possessed.”

“And maybe she is,” Carrie said as she began pulling books from the pile and setting them aside. Taking a book from the stack with a smile, Carrie held it up for the others to see as she asked, “But what if there’s a different way to go about this? That way, we don’t have to go about doing another exorcism.”

“What do you have in mind?” Mick asked as Carrie began flipping through the old, worn book.

“My first thought was astral projections,” Carrie confessed. “I’ve been looking through some of these books to see if I could figure out how the kids’ abilities could branch into other forms of magic over time and training, but the only one to offer any help was this one.”

Peering over the blonde’s shoulder as the pages flicked by, Vivien asked, “What did you find?”

Carrie hummed until she found the proper page, pointing to an extensive paragraph as she began reading aloud, “‘Astral projection, also known as astral travel or out-of-body experience, is the practice of separating one’s consciousness from their physical body and traveling to the astral realm. The astral realm is said to be a non-physical realm that exists parallel to the physical world, where energy and consciousness exist in a different form. In this realm, one can explore different planes of existence, communicate with spirits and other entities, and gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the universe. Some records in history suggest that witches as far back as medeival times used these projections to communicate with others possessing the same abilities. One of the most infamous records of astral projection was written by a supposed witch who was later hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials. The document speaks of witches talking to one another on another plane of existence, warning other accused witches of what was to come.’”

Following along as best as she could over Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien said, “That could be what happened.”

“It sounds like it,” Bentley mused.

“I would prefer that over having to deal with another possessed person roaming through Salem,” Mick piped up.

“Hang on,” Royce began as he stood from his seat. “What if it’s both?”

“Both?” Miles asked.

Royce nodded, “What if the real Serena is possessed, but she’s projecting to Vivien as a way of asking for help?”

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Mick said, “That makes sense. When I was possessed, it felt like I was trapped inside myself. The real Serena being trapped inside a glass box is sort of fitting.”

“So,” Bentley drawled as he glanced around at everybody, “what do we do about it?”

“We could lure her to the church,” Miles offered.

“No, we can’t,” Mick sighed. “Most of the churches in the area are either having meetings for Thanksgiving food donations or hosting events tonight.”

“How did you find that out?” Royce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“My parents were going to use one of the dining halls for their school reunion,” Mick shrugged.

“Alright,” Vivien breathed. “Where else could we take her?”

“What about a cemetery?” Carrie suggested. “Those are hallowed ground, right?”

“Yeah, because nothing screams serial killer quite like luring someone to a cemetary after dark,” Royce snipped, earning himself a nudge to the ribs from Bentley.

“How about we lure her to our house?” Miles offered.

“Are you insane?” Bentley asked as everyone else began arguing over the thought. “Not only would it be stupid to bring a possessed witch to our house, but Mom’s home tonight. If Serena tries to fight us, we can’t fight back in front of her.”

“Hear me out,” Miles began. Once the room was quiet once more, he continued, “Because mom bakes a lot, she’s got a ton of salt in the pantry. If we go around the house and put up a salt ring to protect ourselves inside the house, Serena can’t touch us.”

“Her magic would bounce off,” Mick said thoughtfully. 

Miles nodded, “Exactly.”

Once the concept had settled within everyone’s minds, Royce spoke up, “How are we going to get her there?”

Before Miles could come up with anything, Carrie gestured between Vivien and Royce as she asked, “Do either of you share a class with her that has a test coming up; something that would require a lot of notes for?”

Vivien shook her head, “We both have science with her, but we don’t have any tests until next Friday.”

“I have geography with her,” Royce sighed. “We’ve got a test on Thursday for the semester’s closing grades.”

“Well,” Carrie began, a devilish smile tugging at her glossy lips, “you could text her and say that you have a bunch of notes for the test that she can use if she needs them.”

“How would that draw her in?” Miles wondered.

“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Vivien explained, “but if she is possessed, whatever it is won’t know that.”

“Exactly,” Carrie agreed, beaming proudly at the brunette.

Royce thought for a moment before slowly speaking, “So I lure her to the house with geography notes - that much I get - but what do we do after that?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Mick said as she rose from her seat. “For now, let’s gather some protection crystals and get going before we lose our opportunity.”

“What do you suggest?” Carrie asked.

Instead of answering directly, Mick turned to Vivien on her way to the front of the shop and asked, “Vivien?”

“What?” the young brunette asked as she followed Mick to the shop.

With a proud smile, Mick held the door open for the others as she explained, “This is your area of expertise, gremlin; what do you think?”

As a surge of pride coursed through Vivien’s veins, she beamed. Reining herself in, Vivien glanced over the round tables covered in baskets of crystals before humming, “Maybe some black obsidian or malachite to keep toxic energy away, and moldavite for some good luck?”

Royce and Bentley descended on the tables, pulling crystals from their containers and tucking them in their pockets before making their way back to where Vivien and Mick stood. “Anything else?” Bentley asked.

“What about fluorite or citrine?” Royce asked. “You said those are pretty lucky.”

“They are,” Vivien agreed, “but more for personal luck than anything.”

“I think we should be good with what we’ve got,” Mick said. “I have some sage in my car that we can leave on the front steps to ward off any evil intentions.”

“And we’ll have enough salt to keep her out just in case,” Miles agreed as he fished his keys from his pocket.

Clapping her hands together, Carrie smiled as she said, “In that case, let’s hit the road before it gets much darker out.”

Though the others followed Carrie and Miles to the back room to lock up, Vivien stared at the crystals before her, wondering if she had made the right call. Glancing back over her shoulder at the group, Vivien sighed and took a step forward, shoving a small slab of black onyx, a few pieces of smithsonite, and a couple of shards of moonstone into her pocket before turning and following the others out, slipping the lock into place behind her. Trailing behind the others, Vivien picked up the pace, pulling the already locked door closed after grabbing her coat and backpack from the hooks on the back wall and rushing to catch up with the others who had already begun rounding the building. As she tugged on her coat, Vivien allowed Bentley to hold the gate open for her, thanking him as she slung her backpack strap onto her shoulder.

Miles unlocked his Jeep and opened the passenger side doors for his brothers and girlfriend as Mick made her way to the beat-up Volkswagen she had bought from one of the older guys who frequented the shop. Before Viviuen could climb inside the Jeep, Miles closed the door behind Bentley. “Not so fast, kid.”

Looking up at her pseudo-older brother, Vivien raised an eyebrow and asked, “What; are you planning on shoving me in the trunk?”

“Not after last time,” Miles said with a snort. “Look, Ethan left his junk in the back seat this morning and I barely have enough room for the boys as it is.”

Noticing the way Miles refused to look her in the eyes, Vivien sighed, “You just want me to ride with Mick, don’t you?”

Apologetic, icy blue eyes flickered up to meet Vivien’s as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, mon étoile, but I think she needs you now.”

Slowly tearing her gaze away from Miles and letting her eyes drift onto the older brunette who appeared to be struggling to open her old bus’ driver’s door, Vivien let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but you owe me.”

“I know,” Miles said with a gracious smile, bringing an arm around the girl as he walked her to the back of the Jeep. “Thank you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivien brushed off, leaning her head against Miles for a moment before moving out from his hold and making her way to the old Volkswagen just a few parking spaces down. Upon approaching the vehicle, Vivien called out, “Did you lock yourself out again or something?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, Mick looked up and laughed, “For once, no. The doors have been sticking lately because of the cold. Do you think you could climb in through the passenger side and kick it open?”

“Why not just climb in before me and we can go?” Vivien asked, gesturing to the car as Miles started his Jeep.

“I have the door partially open and it won’t stop dinging unless I close it, but how come you’re riding with me?” Mick asked as she let go of the latch. “I thought you’d be riding with Miles and Carrie.”

Vivien shrugged in an attempt to act nonchalant as she rounded the large vehicle and yanked the passenger door open, “Ethan left a bunch of shit in the car, so there’s no room, but I also just wanted to ride with you anyway.”

“You do?” Mick asked as she stepped away from the door, her voice muffled by the thick metal and glass of the car.

“Well, yeah,” Vivien said as she dropped into the driver’s seat and began kicking the door. Once the heavy door popped open, she leaned out to Mick and said, “I feel like we haven’t really hung out since Halloween and I miss you.”

Hoping the younger girl couldn’t see the pain in her eyes as she took her spot in the driver’s seat, Mick spoke softly, “I miss you too, gremlin.”

As the old bus’ engine roared to life and the clunky radio sputtered through static to the first available station, Vivien tugged her seatbelt on and offered the girl to her left a smile as she said, “I’m sort of glad you missed me.”

“You are?” Mick asked as she pulled onto the streets behind Miles’ Jeep. “How come?”

“It felt like you were shutting me out after everything that happened,” Vivien admitted as she watched the shop’s storefront disappear in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Mick muttered. “Things have been hard since Halloween.”

“I get it,” Vivien nodded, looking over to the older girl. “Believe me, after almost setting our kitchen on fire the other night, I get it.”

Despite offering the younger girl a laugh, Mick shook her head, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

Vivien chuckled but took in a deep breath as she admitted, “I get what you mean, though. Things just aren’t the same anymore.”

“They aren’t.”

For a while, the only noise in the car was the radio between them, the sound of Harry Styles’ voice coming through the faint static of the scratchy speakers as his song As It Was began playing just loud enough to be heard over the engine. Vivien tried not to scoff at the irony of the situation, choosing to take in a slow, deep breath as she softly admitted, “Sometimes, I wish we never got magic in the first place.”

Pulling to a stop at a red light, Mick’s dark eyes flitted over to her young friend as she asked, “Why on earth would you want that?”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Vivien’s lips as she turned to Mick and admitted, “If we never got our magic, things never would have changed. The boys and I wouldn’t have to keep secrets from everyone we care about, we would all be able to live normal lives, you never would have been possessed…” taking in a deep breath, Vivien allowed her words to drift off and looked away as she finished, “you and I would still be close.”

“We can be close again,” Mick reminded her as she reached over and took hold of Vivien’s hand. “We can go back to our mall trips and sleepovers and stuff. It’ll just take some time getting there again.”

“I know,” Vivien breathed, squeezing Mick’s hand as she turned back toward the older girl. “It’s just… there are times when I miss just being a normal girl - worrying about prom and grades and friendships instead of having to worry about setting fire to my chemistry lab or summoning some ancient demon because I read a spell wrong.”

Sending the girl a wary look as the light turned green, Mick asked, “You didn’t actually do those things, did you?”

“No,” Vivien laughed as Mick pulled away from the traffic light. “I’m just saying that things were easier before and I sort of miss having that simplicity.”

Nodding in understanding, Mick took in a deep breath and said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I think you guys are doing amazingly. You’ve really come into your powers.”

“Thanks,” Vivien said with a smile. “I just wish I could give you some of it.”

Sending the girl a quick smile as she turned onto Forrester Street, Mick said, “I know you do, gremlin, but I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mick said as she pulled into the driveway behind Miles. “I’ve sort of come to terms with it all.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Vivien offered.

“It is.” As Mick pushed her door open and released Vivien’s hand, she said, “Just know that I’m grateful to be able to watch you and the boys grow into your magic.”

“Thanks, Mickie,” Vivien said with a smile.

Mick nodded before siding out from her side of the car and slamming the door shut, making her way to the front of the vehicle, where Vivien met up with her. Following the others inside through the garage, Royce said, “I texted Serena, and she said she would be over after having something for dinner.”

“That should give us more than enough time to salt the house,” Miles said. 

Bentley hurried up the steps to the door leading inside the house as he said, “I’ll distract Mom if you guys want to start grabbing salt.”

Stepping inside the kitchen, however, the group was surprised to find Dorothea tending to the crock pot on the kitchen counter. The older woman turned to her children and their gaggle of friends with a smile as she spoke, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the Murphy brothers replied on instinct.

Dorothea brushed them off with a slight wave before urging them into the kitchen, “Come get a bowl. I think we’ll eat in the living room tonight. We can watch a movie if you’d like.”

Cautiously stepping up to fulfill his role, Bentley said, “That sounds great, Mama, but can we set aside some food for Mick’s parents first? They’re going to something at Hanna Devine’s, and they said they’d still be hungry later.”

“That’s fine,” Dorothea claimed, glancing over Bentley at the girl in question. “You should know I always make enough for leftovers.”

“Thanks,” Mick said with a smile. 

As soon as the woman turned to pull bowls from the cabinet, Miles grabbed Royce by the wrist and pulled toward the pantry. However, before they could do more than open the door, Dorothea’s voice stopped them, “Not so fast, boys.” Stilling against the door, Miles and Royce shared a startled look before leaning back to see their mother slowly turn back toward them with a knowing look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Grabbing popcorn for movie night?” Royce offered tentatively.

“No need, I already got it out,” the older woman said, gesturing to the box of microwavable popcorn bags on the counter. “What were you looking for this time? More salt?”

Miles tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he stammered, “Wh-What? What are you- what do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice all of my salt going missing on Halloween,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “Or Royce’s laundry not needing to be done at all in the last two weeks, or the cookies in the jar never moving despite the crumbs all over the counter, or Bentley’s chocolate milk magically refilling every morning when I’m not looking.”

Stunned by the woman’s intuition, Bentley’s eyes widened as he slowly turned back toward his mom and asked, “You saw that?”

“I’m not blind, mon âme,” Dorothea told Bentley, a glimmer of something knowingly mischievous in her eyes as she smiled at her youngest. “Even without my own magic, I would be able to figure it out eventually.”

“Your own magic?” Carrie repeated curiously.

“You have magic?” Mick asked.

“That I do, lutin d’eau,” Dorothea said with a nod. “How else would my children have their abilities?”

“My parents don’t have magic,” Vivien said with a shrug.

Sending the young girl a look that made her begin doubting herself, the woman asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Vivien opened her mouth to reply but found the words dying off in her throat as she slowly admitted, “Not anymore.”

“So, wait,” Miles began, “Mom, you’re a witch?”

Dorothea nodded, “Have been since I was about sixteen, yes.”

“And you knew we had magic?” Royce asked.

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Dorothea chuckled. “Most people who have had their magic for a while can tell when another magical person is around. The energy is different.”

“What are your powers?” Bentley asked.

Gesturing to the food on the counter, Dorothea claimed, “Most of the time, I use magic in my foods. Before you leave the house, I make breakfast with protection charms or herbs. Before bed, you have some of my special cookies to make you sleep peacefully. I make sure that, no matter what, you are protected and happy while eating the things you like.”

Although every other person looked reasonably impressed with the matriarch’s claim, Miles was the first to ask, “How did we not know?”

“Because it’s all you’ve ever known from me,” Dorothea shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t always a master chef or baker.”

With his jaw practically on the floor, Royce grinned as he asked, “Have you ever spelled us without us knowing?”

“Of course,” the woman replied. “Why do you think I always offered you goodies when you thought you would be in trouble?”

“Those were magic brownies?” Vivien asked, stepping up to the woman and rifling through one of the overhead cabinets before pulling down a glass jar of cookies and brownies. Setting the jar on the counter and pulling a brownie from the jar, she asked, “Can I have one? What will it make me do?”

Curious to see the outcome, Dorothea smirked and gestured for the girl to eat the baked treat, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Vivien eyed the brownie for a moment before quickly taking a bite, keeping anyone from stopping her. As Carrie gasped and Mick and Miles stepped closer, Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head with an amused smile, making them stop in their tracks as Vivien hummed around the brownie, “You always make the best brownies.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea chuckled. 

“No, like, seriously,” Vivien muttered as she swallowed. “I swear, if I ever get married, I would want a giant tray of just your brownies instead of a cake.”

“I’ll be sure to write that down,” the woman said with a smile. “Now, do me a favor and turn toward your friends.”

Not one to disobey the woman, Vivien turned, fluttering the fingers of her free hand in greeting as she took another bite of her brownie, “Now what?”

“Tell me what you think of each of them.”

Glancing curiously at the older woman, Vivien shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth before allowing her gaze to land on Miles as she spoke, “Miles is the older brother I always wanted but never got. I can always call him if I need help with anything, and he’s supportive of everything I do. If it weren’t for him and Riven, I would be overworking myself constantly and struggling with a lot of mental health issues.”

Despite appearing minutely worried for Vivien as she took a final bite of her brownie, Miles’ expression softened as he asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Vivien said, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have a tendency to throw myself into things without any regard for my own well-being, but you always make me step back and think first. Riven helps when he can, but you’re always there for me, sort of like the big brother I always pictured in my head, but never got in real life.”

Before Miles could say anything more, Dorothea nudged the girl and asked, “What about Mick, Carrie, or the boys?”

“Well,” Vivien began, “Mick has known me since I was a baby and has been looking out for me like a sister for as long as I can remember. We used to hang out a lot, but since she was possessed on Halloween, she’s been distant.” Mick’s gaze fell to the old, creaky planks of wood beneath her feet, but she didn’t get much time to think as Vivien said, “I don’t know how to approach her most of the time, but I love her no matter what.” 

Carrie placed a hand on Mick’s arm, sending the brunette a smile as her gaze snapped up to Vivien once more. “We’ll work on it together,” Mick offered.

“I know,” Vivien said. “Anyway, as for Carrie, I wasn’t sure what to think of you growing up because Mick said you were stuck up and prissy, but Miles liked you because you because you got along really well when you worked together on a project. Also, when the town was doing The Wizard of Oz a few years back, I wanted to be Dorothy, but you got the role instead because I was way too young, and I didn’t like that at the time which made me not like you until we started working on the show together and you were actually pretty cool with me. I really like you now and think that you’re a great addition to our little group.”

Despite the evident confusion on Vivien’s face as she finished speaking, Carrie’s signature smile appeared as she thanked the younger girl. Before giving Vivien the chance to ask questions, Dorothea cut in, “What about Bentley? How do you feel about him?”

As though a rubber band had snapped her back into place, Vivien’s gaze landed on Bentley, and she began, “Bentley is a lot like Oliver, and I would protect him with my life if I had to. He’s like this little golden retriever puppy that just showed up in my life one day, and I decided to keep him out of love. Even though he plays it off like no big deal, he’s very talented and is very emotionally intelligent. He knows when someone isn’t feeling right and will go out of his way to help them. He’s been family to me practically my whole life, and I think that, if platonic soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely one of mine.”

Deciding to wrap everything up instead of talking about what Vivien had said, Bentley looked to Royce and gestured to him as he asked, “What about Rolls?”

“Actually,” Dorothea interrupted, placing a hand over Vivien’s mouth before the girl could give more information than she wanted to, “I think that’s enough for now.”

As the woman slowly released Vivien and handed her the glass of water she had been sipping out of while making dinner, Vivien asked, “What was in that thing?”

“That was one of my truth-seeking brownies,” Dorothea claimed. “With a small dose of a potion mixed in the chocolate, one bite would make the one eating it tell the truth until the magic wore off with time or, in this case, water. Anytime the boys would get into trouble growing up, I would give them something like this to make sure I knew what had actually happened.”

“So that’s how you got me to tell you about the broken vase!” Bentley exclaimed accusatorily. Although Bentley hadn’t been the one to break their mother’s newly made, handmade vase - Royce had - he hadn’t been able to keep things under wraps long enough to fix the vase himself. His mom had given him a fresh-from-the-oven cookie, and he found himself spilling the beans without hesitation. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a tendency to ramble things without thinking, but now that his mother had made it clear that she was the reason, it all made sense.

“That’s right,” Dorothea said with a nod. “We can speak more about it later. For now, who would like to tell me why you feel the need to sneak into the pantry?”

Before giving anyone else a chance to speak, Vivien blurted, “One of our friends from school might be possessed by dark magic, and she’s coming here to get notes from Royce, so we planned on making a salt ring around the house to keep her from coming in.”

With a raised eyebrow, Carrie asked, “I thought you said water was supposed to get rid of the truth potion?”

“It takes a few minutes to work through,” Dorothea explained as she patted Vivien on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, yay,” Vivien sighed sarcastically.

“Anyway,” Dorothea began as she turned toward the rest of her children and their friends, “since what she says is true, we’ll need to work fast. Miles, Carrie, and Mick, you three stay with me. I have some sage and other herbs we can hang by the doorway to ward off dark magic. Royce, Vivien, and Bentley, you three take the salt and follow each other around the house with it. The thicker the salt, the better. Just make sure it isn’t too obvious and keep the line as close to the front door as possible.”

As Vivien followed Bentley and Royce to the pantry to retrieve the salt, Dorothea turned the slow cooker onto low heat and waited for the kids to run outside through the back door before heading into the pantry and sliding open a panel on the back wall. Inside was a rotating, lazy-Susan-style shelving unit filled with bottles that contained either liquids, jars of various ground items, or herbs, and a rack of wrapped herbs dangling from above.

Examining the hidden unit, Miles asked, “When was that built?” 

“Not long after your father left,” Dorothea answered as she began pulling things from the shelves. Holding out a bundle of wrapped sage, she said, “Now, split this evenly between you three and go smudge the doorways and windows while I make up a quick potion to drizzle over the salt circle. By the time the kids are done and the potion is ready, the girl should be on her way over.”

Without any argument, Miles took the sage from his mother and began unwrapping it, heading into the kitchen to grab a lighter from near the stove before handing out sage to Mick and Carrie. Watching her son and his friends move toward the front of the house, Dorothea took in a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, tapping a few different things before bringing up the group chat she had with Mick’s parents, letting them know their daughter had arrived safely, and they would set aside some food for them. After receiving a message from Mack in return, thanking her for letting them know, Dorothea pocketed her phone once more and silently prayed that she would be able to protect the children in her care as she closed the pantry once more.

Before she could make her way to the living room, though, the door leading to the garage opened, and a faint surge of fiery power coursed through her. Curious, Dorothea turned and watched as a head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled into a pair of half-up space buns stepped into the house, ditching a messenger backpack on the floor next to the door as it closed. Kona was quick to tug her detachable roller skates from her sneakers and shove them into her backpack as Dorothea smiled at her. Pushing her bangs from her face with a smile, Kona said, “Hey, Mrs Bentley’s Mom.”

“Kona,” Dorothea began, examining the shades of pink and teal that flooded the energy surrounding the girl, “I didn’t know you were coming over. We’re just about to eat; would you care to join us?”

“I can’t, actually,” Kona said with a sigh as she grabbed a cookie from the counter. “Dad’s making a traditional hawaiian dinner for Mom tonight, but I wanted to come over to talk with Ben, Royce, and Vivi.”

“They’re out back at the moment, but they should be in soon,” Dorothea said. “Is it something for school?”

“No, just friendship stuff,” Kona shrugged before taking a bite of her cookie. “Ben and I argued a bit this morning, but I talked it over with Zack and Gus after school and figured we could work things out tonight as a group.”

Nodding in understanding, Dorothea gestured to the dining table and said, “In the meantime, would you like to talk with me about it? I might offer an unbiased opinion.”

“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to say anything,” Kona began as she tugged one of the chairs out from the table, “but I assume that, if what he was saying is real, then you’d know about it too.”

“Most likely,” Dorothea agreed with a hum as she sat in Miles’ usual spot at the table. Sending the girl a comforting smile, she gestured with her hand and said, “The floor is yours.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Kona glanced around for any trace of Bentley before allowing herself to ramble, something she had always found relatively easy in the woman’s presence. She started her retelling of the morning - how her cat had woken her up by smothering her, her younger sister had refused to put clothes on before daycare, and her first attempt at waffles had made a disaster of the kitchen counters - then, she brought the story into the beginning of her school day. Quickly, she got into Bentley’s story and how he had pulled her aside like it was some big secret before telling her about all that had happened on Halloween. 

Nodding along as though she hadn’t already surmised what happened that fateful day, Dorothea listened as Kona told her side of the conversation before asking a single question, “And you don’t believe him?”

Kona heaved a sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want to believe him - I do - it’s just really hard to. He sounded nervous, but that also made it sound like he was lying through his teeth.”

“I understand,” Dorothea nodded. “But, if you were in his shoes and you had to tell him that you possessed magic in some way, wouldn’t you be nervous as well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kona breathed. “I just didn’t think about it at the time.”

“Again, that’s understandable,” Dorothea said with a smile as she watched the array of colors around the girl swirl and shift with every thought that ran through her head. “So, what did Zack and August have to offer?”

“They sort of pointed out that Bentley’s a terrible liar and that I should maybe try sitting down and talking with him more to get the whole story,” Kona admitted. With a faintly nervous chuckle, she said, “So, here I am, ready to try a bit harder.”

“And you want Royce and Vivien there to verify everything?” Dorothea surmised. 

Kona nodded, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and like a herd of elephants, Bentley, Royce, and Vivien hurried into the house. As he led the way, Bentley called out, “Mama, we finished the salt circle. What do we do now?” 

Upon finding Kona sitting across from his mother, Bentley’s voice faded into silence. While Bentley scrambled to find something to say and Royce’s eyes widened, Vivien offered a hesitant smile as she said, “Kona, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” the blonde said as she pushed herself out of her seat. “Bentley told me about this whole witch business this morning and I want to have an actual conversation about it.”

“We can’t right now,” Royce stated apologetically as he checked the time on his phone. Serena would be there any minute; they didn’t have time for this!

“Why not?” Kona wondered, crossing her arms over her chest. Nodding toward Mrs Murphy, she said, “She let me talk with her. Why can’t we talk now?”

Before anyone could think of an answer, Carrie’s voice came from the stairs as she, Miles, and Mick came down from the upper floor, “We finished smudging the house.”

“Yeah,” Miles continued as they entered the kitchen. “What do we do now-” As his eyes landed on Kona, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“Looking for answers,” Kona replied. “What are you guys doing?” 

Faintly feeling the effects of the brownie she had eaten earlier, Vivien replied, “Smudging and making salt circles to protect against dark magic.”

Sensing the growing frustration boiling within Kona’s small frame, Dorothea stood from her spot at the table and placed a placating hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment. For now, you all need to keep an eye out for Serena. Go sit in the living room and do whatever you think is necessary before she gets here. I’ll handle this.”

Despite Royce and Vivien allowing Carrie and Mick to guide them into the living room, Bentley swallowed thickly as Miles tried guiding him away, muttering a soft, “I’m sorry, Kone,” as he turned back toward her for a fleeting moment.

Once Bentley was out of sight, Kona turned to Dorothea and asked, “What’s going on?”

“As I said, I’ll explain everything,” Dorothea said softly, gently guiding Kona back to her seat. “But first, I need you to sit. This will be a lot to take in all at once.”

“What do you mean, you told her?” Miles asked.

“I told her about us,” Bentley explained. “We talked about telling her the other day, so I figures it would be fine.”

“Well, there’s no backing out now,” Carrie claimed from her spot near the picture window. “She knows and, in the long haul, I think it’s for the best.”

Pulling his notebook for geography out of his backpack, Royce said, “I actually agree.”

Slapping a hand to her friend’s forehead, Vivien smirked as she asked, “Are you sick or something? I could’ve sworn I heard you say you agree with Carrie.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Royce deadpanned as he pried Vivien’s hand from his face. “I just think that Kona was bound to know eventually.”

“True,” Mick said from her perch on the coffee table.

Vivien hummed in agreement as she took the notebook from Royce and pulled the thin slab of black onyx from her pocket, tucking it inside the notebook before handing it back to him. Opening the notebook to the hidden crystal, Royce asked, “What’s that for?”

“It’s black onyx,” Vivien explained. “It’s supposed to draw out negative energy. I figured it might help Serena if we give it to her in a way that she won’t notice it.”

Closing the notebook again and feeling just how flat the book still felt, Royce grinned, “Sneaky.”

“Just one of the many reasons you love me,” Vivien claimed proudly. Before allowing him to respond, she said, “I figured it’s flat enough that she won’t realize it’s there, and if she does, you can always claim it’s a pencil or something.”

“Smart,” Mick mused with a smile as she watched over the young pair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Vivien taunted, shoving the girl’s knee with a smile. “I think those years of spending every afternoon in the shop with you have paid off.”

“I suppose they have,” Mick chuckled.

Moving away from the window, Carrie pointed toward the outside as she exclaimed, “She’s coming up the driveway!”

“Alright,” Miles said, patting Royce on the back as his younger brother stood. Holding the brunet by his shoulders, he asked, “You know what to do?”

With a nod, Royce began counting on his fingers as he listed, “Act normal, talk about the test, offer to let her in, give her the notebook either way, and once she leaves, we decide what to do next.”

“Good,” Miles said, running a hand over Royce’s chocolate curls before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Royce muttered.

Squeezing his brother’s shoulders, Miles reassured him, “You’ve got this, RJ. Remember, it’s just Serena; she’s your friend.”

“She’s just possessed, that’s all,” Royce huffed as the doorbell rang.

“Be nice,” Miles reminded him, sending a meaningful glance in Mick’s direction despite the girl not being able to hear their hushed conversation. “Your friend is still in there somewhere.”

Nodding more for Miles’ sake than his own, Royce turned toward the door and sucked in a deep breath as he crossed the gap between himself and the heavy, oaken frame. Forcing a small smile onto his face, Royce let out the breath he’d been holding and tugged the door open, allowing the chilled autumn air to brush calmingly across his face as he found Serena leaning against the column at the edge of the porch. “Hey, Serena.”

“Royce,” the redhead greeted in return, a sort of grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your notes.”

“Yeah, of course, anytime,” Royce replied. Stepping to the side and gesturing to the inside of the house, he asked, “Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold outside.”

Royce took note of how the girl’s hazel eyes flickered to the old, wooden beams that made up the porch, her gaze minutely trailing the thin line of salt trailing into the coarse artificial grass of the doormat. Although Royce knew the moment only lasted a second or so, time felt slower as Serena’s gaze landed back on him. Forcing his smile to remain plastered across his face, Royce watched as she shook her head with a somewhat distant smile and replied, “I would, but I have babysitting duty.”

If there was one thing Royce remembered about Serena, it was her hatred of babysitting. After years of being made to watch the young kids of her church and being forced to sit at the kid’s table every year, the last thing Serena would ever want was to babysit. He could vaguely recall hearing her have a shouting match with her mother in the school parking lot about having to babysit a kid that wasn’t hers - presumably in reference to her younger half-sibling, Sawyer. If Serena was willingly babysitting Sawyer, something had to be up.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” Royce brushed off despite his mental notes saying otherwise. Instead, he held the notebook out with a smile and replied, “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Serena replied with a quick roll of her eyes that Royce supposed he wasn’t meant to see. However, as Serena latched onto the book and brought it close to her chest, he watched as her eyes flickered rapidly, the color in them gradually shifting from hazel to crimson as they moved from one side to the other faster than Royce could register. Then, all at once, it stopped as Serena’s eyes dissolved back to fear-filled hazel. “Royce?” she questioned breathlessly.

“Serena?” Royce asked slowly in return. “What’s going-”

“How did you make it stop?” Serena interrupted, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears of relief. Though Royce had begun to open his mouth in response, Serena quickly shook her head and said, “Actually, nevermind; it’s not important right now.” Reaching out and taking Royce’s arm, she found his eyes and pleaded, “You have to help me. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been stuck in my own body for weeks now and I can’t get out.”

“What do you remember?” Royce pressed.

“Halloween,” Serena claimed, swiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You guys came to the church to look for something and I left, but then I came back and you all were gone, so I cleaned the mess you left and then I-” Serena choked on a breath, shaking her head as she breathed, “the next thing I know, it’s like I’m trapped in my head and nobody hears me screaming for help.”

Taking in as much information as he could from the rambling girl, Royce nodded, “I know Vivien talked to you.”

“It wasn’t much, but I tried,” Serena agreed. “I can’t hold her off for long.”

“Her?” 

Serena nodded, releasing Royce’s arm to wipe the streaks of tears from her face as she replied, “The other me. She’s strong and powerful and I know it has something to do with magic.”

“Magic? Like ancient magic?” Royce restated. When Serena shrugged with a hum of confirmation, he asked, “How do we help you out of this?”

“I don’t know,” Serena muttered, her voice shaking with every heave of her shoulders. “You, Vivien, and Bentley were always the ones to know everything about magic, not me. That was never my strong suit. All I know is that she can’t touch salt and-”

As Serena’s words died in her throat, Royce took a step back, watching her eyes begin flickering once more. “And what?” Frustratingly, Serena’s mouth moved despite no sound coming from her lips, and Royce gripped the door frame with wide eyes as her eyes clenched shut, and he heard a dull cracking sound come from the book in her hands. Royce sucked in a breath as he realized the crystal tucked inside the notebook had broken.

Like a rubber band, Serena’s eyes snapped open, and a dark, ruby glare settled within her gaze. Despite both of them knowing she couldn’t do anything to hurt him because of the rings of salt around the house, Royce still felt his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to do something to preserve himself, and the people he knew were watching from the window. Serena took a half-step back, the blood-red hue of her eyes diminishing gradually the further she got from the doorway. Tilting her head to the side with an almost demonic smile, Serena let out a dark cackle of laughter before speaking, “Just because you and your little friends defeated me once does not mean I will let it happen again.”

“Says you,” Royce hissed.

“Precisely,” Serena spoke. Stepping down from the porch, Serena’s smile turned eerie as she waved a hand toward the window, sparks of fire flitting from her fingertips. Turning back to Royce, she said, “Watch yourselves, children. Your magic may be cosmic, but mine is ancient. I will take it from you eventually.”

Not wishing to anger the woman further, Royce chose to keep his mouth shut, watching as Serena’s figure turned and stalked off toward the end of the driveway. As she neared the edge, she dug into the notebook, pulled out the broken shards of the onyx slab, and held them up for them to see before holding her fist over the wheeled trash can Bentley hadn’t yet brought back into the garage and crushing the shards in her fist. Dumping the shattered remnants of the crystal into the empty trash can, Serena gave a final, dramatic bow before releasing a cackled laugh, slipping into the driver's seat of her violet-wrapped Audi, and pulling away from the house with a squeal of her tires and a deep growl from the engine.

[fakesurprise]

I continued to a door. Another key card, another broken door.

Beyond it was a solid metal door with one-way glass panel. I heard someone swear on the other side, muffled.

I braced myself, and kicked the door open. It caught the edge of a man’s arm, sending him careening into a wall. Same cement, same walls. The lights were less glaring, but also caged. The man had on a labcoat and jeans, and a confused look as he clutched his smarting left arm.

I slammed him into the wall before he could run, one gloved hand over his face.

“How many prisoners are still alive?”

“What the –. Two. Three? You with the Kremlin people? You’re getting nothing from –.”

I pressed my hand firmer against his mouth, muffling the scream as I twisted his arm from the socket. I’d helped make thanksgiving dinner a few times at various foster homes: this was almost like that. Twist, snap. The parts of people that were fragile were almost scarily so.

The man screamed twice against my hand.

“Reconsider, and be quiet,” I said, pulling my hand back.

The man let out a gasp, his face pale as stained snow, glasses on crooked as tears slid down his face. “I don’t know the details,” he got out between gasps. “We’re under NDA’s tighter than your mom.”

I shoved him harder against the wall, and this time his arm broke. I heard and felt bone splinter like a rotten log and tried to hide the shiver than ran through my body. Knowing you were strong was one thing: using it was something far more alien entirely. The man’s scream was almost audible past me as he collapsed into the wall in a whimper.

“You have two legs and another arm. After that I can get creative,” I hissed.

The man whimpered. “I have a wife and kids.”

“Many who died here did as well.”

[proteuus]

my friends said I can make him worse and showed me the crane wives

[apenitentialprayer]

I hit the breaking point as a parent a few years ago. It was the week of my extended family’s annual gathering in August, and we were struggling with assorted crises. My parents were aging; my wife and I were straining under the chaos of young children; my sister was bracing to prepare her preteens for bullying, sex and cyberstalking. Sure enough, one night all the tensions boiled over. At dinner, I noticed my nephew texting under the table. I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help myself and asked him to stop. Ka-boom! My sister snapped at me to not discipline her child. My dad pointed out that my girls were the ones balancing spoons on their noses. My mom said none of the grandchildren had manners. Within minutes, everyone had fled to separate corners. Later, my dad called me to his bedside. There was a palpable sense of fear I couldn’t remember hearing before. “Our family’s falling apart,” he said. “No it’s not,” I said instinctively. “It’s stronger than ever.” But lying in bed afterward, I began to wonder: Was he right? What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy? It turns out to be an astonishingly good time to ask that question. The last few years have seen stunning breakthroughs in knowledge about how to make families, along with other groups, work more effectively. Myth-shattering research has reshaped our understanding of dinnertime, discipline and difficult conversations. Trendsetting programs from Silicon Valley and the military have introduced techniques for making teams function better. The only problem: most of that knowledge remains ghettoized in these subcultures, hidden from the parents who need it most. I spent the last few years trying to uncover that information, meeting families, scholars and experts ranging from peace negotiators to online game designers to Warren Buffett’s bankers. After a while, a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative. I first heard this idea from Marshall Duke, a colorful psychologist at Emory University. In the mid-1990s, Dr. Duke was asked to help explore myth and ritual in American families.“There was a lot of research at the time into the dissipation of the family,” he told me at his home in suburban Atlanta. “But we were more interested in what families could do to counteract those forces.” Around that time, Dr. Duke’s wife, Sara, a psychologist who works with children with learning disabilities, noticed something about her students.“The ones who know a lot about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” she said. Her husband was intrigued, and along with a colleague, Robyn Fivush, set out to test her hypothesis. They developed a measure called the “Do You Know?” scale that asked children to answer 20 questions. Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth? Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush asked those questions of four dozen families in the summer of 2001, and taped several of their dinner table conversations. They then compared the children’s results to a battery of psychological tests the children had taken, and reached an overwhelming conclusion. The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness. “We were blown away,” Dr. Duke said. And then something unexpected happened. Two months later was Sept. 11. As citizens, Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush were horrified like everyone else, but as psychologists, they knew they had been given a rare opportunity: though the families they studied had not been directly affected by the events, all the children had experienced the same national trauma at the same time. The researchers went back and reassessed the children.“Once again,” Dr. Duke said, “the ones who knew more about their families proved to be more resilient, meaning they could moderate the effects of stress.” Why does knowing where your grandmother went to school help a child overcome something as minor as a skinned knee or as major as a terrorist attack? “The answers have to do with a child’s sense of being part of a larger family,” Dr. Duke said. Psychologists have found that every family has a unifying narrative, he explained, and those narratives take one of three shapes. First, the ascending family narrative: “Son, when we came to this country, we had nothing. Our family worked. We opened a store. Your grandfather went to high school. Your father went to college. And now you. ...” Second is the descending narrative: “Sweetheart, we used to have it all. Then we lost everything.” “The most healthful narrative,” Dr. Duke continued, “is the third one. It’s called the oscillating family narrative: ‘Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family.’ ” Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong “intergenerational self.” They know they belong to something bigger than themselves. Leaders in other fields have found similar results. Many groups use what sociologists call sense-making, the building of a narrative that explains what the group is about. Jim Collins, a management expert and author of “Good to Great,” told me that successful human enterprises of any kind, from companies to countries, go out of their way to capture their core identity. In Mr. Collins’s terms, they “preserve core, while stimulating progress.” The same applies to families, he said. Mr. Collins recommended that families create a mission statement similar to the ones companies and other organizations use to identify their core values. The military has also found that teaching recruits about the history of their service increases their camaraderie and ability to bond more closely with their unit.Cmdr. David G. Smith is the chairman of the department of leadership, ethics and law at the Naval Academy and an expert in unit cohesion, the Pentagon’s term for group morale. Until recently, the military taught unit cohesion by “dehumanizing” individuals, Commander Smith said. Think of the bullying drill sergeants in “Full Metal Jacket” or “An Officer and a Gentleman.” But these days the military spends more time building up identity through communal activities. At the Naval Academy, Commander Smith advises graduating seniors to take incoming freshmen (or plebes) on history-building exercises, like going to the cemetery to pay tribute to the first naval aviator or visiting the original B-1 aircraft on display on campus. Dr. Duke recommended that parents pursue similar activities with their children. Any number of occasions work to convey this sense of history: holidays, vacations, big family get-togethers, even a ride to the mall. The hokier the family’s tradition, he said, the more likely it is to be passed down. He mentioned his family’s custom of hiding frozen turkeys and canned pumpkin in the bushes during Thanksgiving so grandchildren would have to “hunt for their supper,” like the Pilgrims. “These traditions become part of your family,” Dr. Duke said. Decades of research have shown that most happy families communicate effectively. But talking doesn’t mean simply “talking through problems,” as important as that is. Talking also means telling a positive story about yourselves. When faced with a challenge, happy families, like happy people, just add a new chapter to their life story that shows them overcoming the hardship. This skill is particularly important for children, whose identity tends to get locked in during adolescence. The bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.

- Bruce Feiler. Emphases added.

[nancypullen]

Whining

Brace yourself, I’m going to complain. Whyyyyy is it so hard for people to just show up on time and do their job correctly?

Seriously, that’s all I’m asking. I think I had sky high hopes that because we sold our house in Tennessee at a good price and we’d have wads of cash to spruce up this place, that it would be easy.  Before I continue this rant, please know that I am grateful to from the top of my head to the soles of my feet that these are the problems in my basket.  I know that compared to the burdens that some are shouldering, my frustrations (and that’s really all they are) don’t amount to much.  I think I’m finding out that I don’t go with the flow as easily as I used to, and that I have a huge need for nesting and normalcy.  I’m a homebody and these stinkin’ contractors are keeping me from making a home! Yesterday was floor installation day.  The guy who came weeks ago and did the measuring and worked up the estimate said it could be a two day job, but he thought they could get it done in a day.  I resigned myself to being trapped upstairs for a day knowing that my reward would be spiffy new floors.  Small price to pay. I was working when we had our floors done in Mt. Juliet - Mickey and I pulled up the carpeting, prepped the floors, and I trotted off to work the next morning.  When I came home I had new floors, presto change-o!  This time I was here for every whack of the hammer. Or whatever they use.  They didn’t show up until 10 o’clock. They set the smoke alarms off with their saw. They didn’t finish until NINE O’CLOCK last night.  Mickey had zipped out at noon and purchased lunch for the whole crew, but we didn’t buy them dinner.  We ended up having tuna sandwiches at 9:30 because we were starving.  We toasted our new floors with Diet Coke and went to bed. Today was furniture delivery day and dishwasher installation day.  The furniture guys showed up right on time and brought in the new sofa and loveseat. Hooray!  That has been the one and only easy part of this process - I fully expected to sit down and have the whole thing collapse.  The dishwasher was the last piece of the kitchen appliance swap and we were scheduled between noon and 3pm.  At 3:40 they called to say they’d be late.  No kidding.  That’s no big deal, I figured they ran into issues at another house and it’s not as if I had an urgent dishwashing need.  But as time passed I started to wonder if they were coming at all.  A truck pulled up just after 5 o’clock and they hustled in talking a mile a minute and measuring spaces. The first thing he said was that he had to take off my brand new quarter round to get the old dishwasher out - well, of course.  They pulled the old one out, loaded it on their truck, and brought the shiny new one in. Everything went smoothly and they let us know on the way out that they take trim off but they do not replace it.  They’re plumbers, not carpenters.  It’s a minor inconvenience, and I know it’s truly not their job, but it still made me want to flip them off.    The next project is painting.  He’s supposed to start on the 8th and he said the interior of the house plus trim will take 3 days.  Why do I have the feeling we’ll be sharing a Thanksgiving meal? I’m pinning all of my hopes on this guy being the one who restores my faith in America’s work ethic.  After this it’s kitchen counter tops and getting the cabinets painted.  This is not necessarily the order we’d planned to do things, but when someone finally returns your call and puts you on the schedule, you take it! Want to know the real reason I’m miffed?  I had plans for today.  I figured the furniture delivery would take about ten minutes (which it did) and the dishwasher installation maybe 45 minutes. - which was also about right. But that loooong stretch of waiting for the dishwasher guys screwed up my plan.  I needed to be in my kitchen. I was supposed to be making cupcakes for the Queen’s jubilee.  I mean, I have priorities.  I’ll make them tomorrow, but I was supposed to kick off Elizabeth’s platinum jubilee today.  Shout out to my fellow anglophile, Francie!  Anyway, I’ll bake and decorate tomorrow and then share the reasons for my choices.  Let’s just say that the Queen likes lemon. If you caught any of the celebrations so far, you’ll know that the star of the show has been wee Prince Louis.  While on the balcony of Buckingham Palace with his great-granny, Queen Elizabeth, he pulled faces, got quite dramatic during the flyover, and executed a little march during the playing of God Save the Queen.  Royal blood or not, kids are kids.

This is probably when HRH threatened to behead him, or maybe just a gentle reminder that the Tower of London has some empty cells. Doesn’t Elizabeth look great for 96?

I suppose if all you have to do is ring a bell to get anything you want, you might age more gracefully than the average gal.   Then again, she’s not immune to life’s struggles.  Prince Andrew, general creep and possible pedophile, was noticeably absent.  The official story is that he tested positive for COVID and will miss the festivities.  How convenient.  I’m fine with that.  Keep him out of sight, let Liz have her day.  Seventy years on the throne deserves revelry and merrymaking.  Just between you and me, you know  Charles is grateful that Andrew makes him look slightly less repulsive.  I really wish QE would pass over Charles and put Anne on the throne.  She’s been the hardest working royal for decades.  I loved this shot of Anne and William riding during the Trooping of the Colours.

Give her the crown. Well, I’ve gone from whining about home renovations to gossiping about England’s royal family.  That’s normal, right? I’m hoping with all my heart that things get closer to normal around here very soon.  We still have to replace carpet in one bedroom because apparently the former owners were raising farm animals in there or something.  Mickey has pulled up the carpet and done all of the prep work, now we get to wait for a date to lay the carpet.  What do you want to bet that the only date available for six months will be during the three days of painting?   Mercury will be out of retrograde later tonight. Everything will immediately go back to normal and life will be free and easy. I’m sure of it.  Universe, don’t prove me wrong.  This would probably be a good time to say that if I owe you an email or phone call, I’m so sorry.  I have been throwing myself a pity party and wouldn’t have been good company or a happy correspondent.  I promise to do better.  Believe me, I value my dear friends - I’d be bonkers if I couldn’t cling to the thought of perfectly well-adjusted people out there in the world caring about me.  Alright, I’m putting on my big girl panties and moving on.  Emails and calls coming soon. Time to switch on this brand new dishwasher and see if she works.  I’m off to take a bath and read a book (just started Pretty Little Wife by Darby Kane and it’s a page turner!). Back tomorrow with jubilee cupcakes and a better attitude. Stay safe, stay well, please keep masking! XOXO, Nancy

[winchesterbrotherstan]

MCU: Logan Barnes-Stark- November 24, 2005

Pairing: Tony Stark x IronKid!OC (Logan Barnes-Stark)

Summary: Logan and Tony discover an unexpected side-effect to their new medication

Warnings: like two curse words, gender again, mentions of binding, medication, it's thanksgiving in this

Word Count: 517

I hung up my towel and picked up my binder. I shuffled over to the mirror. The binder slipped from my fingers once I realized what had just happened.

“Kid?” There was a knock on my bathroom door. “You almost ready?”

“Uh…” I stared in the mirror.

Tony had developed a medicine to help me strengthen and control my powers, as he had promised. I had only been taking it for a month.

“Logan, you alright?” Tony knocked again.

“Can you come in here?” I squeaked, quickly unlocking the door.

“What’s wrong?”

I pushed the door open, and Tony jumped to cover his eyes. “Kid, you’re half naked.”

“Yeah, I know. Just look.”

“What?”

“Tony, just look!” I shouted in a voice that wasn’t mine.

Tony peeked through his fingers, and then his hands dropped. “What the fuck?”

I nodded, running my hands over my completely flat chest. “I’m a boy.”

“I can see that, Logan.”

“What the fuck is happening to me, Tony?” I took a shaky breath.

He looked around, obviously thinking. I ran a hand through my hair and shuddered. My shoulders were wider, my muscles more prominent, my hands were bigger. I was taller, even. Not to mention the new appendage in my pants.

Tony grabbed my arm, pulling at the blue bracelet on my wrist.

“Was it a boy night?”

I nodded slowly. “What is it?”

“The medicine. It’s magnesium based, to help your adrenal gland control the production of adrenaline.” He was piecing it together as he spoke.

I took my arm back. “And? Why’d my entire body change?”

He sighed, eyes falling shut. “It must’ve put testosterone and estrogen production into hyperdrive.”

“Tony-”

“Just… go try to change back.”

“What?”

“Get in the bathroom and think about being a girl.” He pointed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I sighed, but did as told. I shut the door and pulled a shirt on. I braced myself on the counter and shut my eyes. Vulnerable, self-loathing, angry. That’s how I always felt as a girl. My head began to hurt, and I opened my eyes.

“Holy shit.”

“Did it work?” Tony asked through the door.

I scoffed. “Yeah. It sure fucking did.”

“Lo, do you have any idea what this means?”

“What?” I spoke through gritted teeth, trying to go back.

I didn’t want to be angry and vulnerable tonight. It was Thanksgiving, Tony and I were gonna go to a diner. I wanted to have fun, to be happy.

“It means you can control it.”

I opened my eyes.

“Yeah. I can.”

I opened the door, and Tony walked into the bathroom with me. He looked up, and I laughed.

“I’m taller than you now.” I grinned.

He sighed. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“This is fucking awesome.” I ran a hand through my hair again.

He smiled. “Glad you like it.”

“Alright, we still going to dinner?” I grabbed a pair of boots that, thankfully, had been big on me before.

“Depends. How are you feeling?” He eyed me.

“I am very hungry.”

“Alright, dinner it is.”

Previous: October 19, 1999

Next: Iron Man (part i)

[omgjasminesimone]

#9 for Raleigh and Mc 🍂🍁

From this Fall Prompt List

...

“Hey, wait a second.” Raleigh requests just as Cadence is about to jump out of the town car. She shoots him a puzzled expression. “I’m...bracing myself.” Raleigh vulnerably admits, quite reluctantly.

Cadence’s expression morphs into a gentle, fond smile. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. My parents have heard nothing but good things about you from me.”

“Yeah, but if they don’t live under a rock, they might have heard some not so good things from the media.” Raleigh counters.

“Well, time for you to show them the real Raleigh Carrera then. Let’s go. You’re not gonna make a good first impression if you make us late for Thanksgiving. My mom said 3:30.” Cadence offers her hand. “Come on.”

Raleigh intertwines his fingers with her’s, letting her pull him out of the vehicle. He sighs, nervous as they make their way to Cadence’s parents’ front door. “What’s the signal if this goes badly and we need to make an escape?” He questions.

“Would you relax? It’s not that big of a deal. You’re acting like you’ve never met a girl’s parents before.” Cadence pauses when her statement is met with silence. “Wait, you’ve never met a girlfriend’s parents before?”

“Raleigh Carrera isn’t exactly the guy you bring home to your parents, Cadence.” He mutters, self consciously avoiding her gaze. Maybe she’s finally starting to realize this isn’t a good idea. That he’s not the guy who gets parental approval. He’s worried this Thanksgiving dinner could torpedo their whole relationship.

“Hey.” Cadence calls to get his attention since he’s clearly lost in thought. She loops her arms around his neck. “You are definitely ‘take home to the parents’ material Raleigh Carrera. Those other girls are crazy.”

Raleigh can’t help but grin before he kisses her deeply. “Maybe you’re the crazy one.” He murmurs against her lips when he pulls away just barely.

Cadence beams at him, giving him one more quick kiss before she rings the doorbell. “Let’s find out, R&B timebomb.”

[loveyouforevergrace]

My Friendship With Grace

Grace and I met in my eighth grade math class, though it was seventh grade for her. She was honestly way too smart to be in the class, but she was required to have a math class on her seventh grade schedule, so she got pulled into the advanced algebra class for eighth graders. She barely showed up most days because she went to a special group where she learned concepts and formulas that I won’t get around to until my senior year of college. On the days Grace did show up however, she pestered me a lot. Being pestered wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, I didn’t mind her too much. She had braces, I had braces; she was kind of a nerd, and I was kind of a nerd too--it worked out. I would desperately try to figure out the answers of my homework (I still don’t quite understand trigonometry), and Grace would take my phone and play games on it for the entire class. I was definitely fond of her, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. If someone had told me that the eleven year old girl clicking away at Tap Tap Fish on my iPhone SE would grow up to be my best friend, I would’ve told them they were crazy.

Grace and I have an incredible amount of overlap between our interests, which is coincidentally how we reconnected as I went into high school and she stayed in middle school. I was playing a god awful video game with my friends one summer afternoon, League of Legends, and somehow ended up on a team with Grace in it. She entered the call and I recognized her squeaky voice immediately, so we both got talking again pretty quickly. At the time, we bonded over our unfortunate addiction to video games, and our love for Panic! At the Disco, though I like to believe our interests have become a little more refined in recent years. These days we like to go shopping, or just talk about clothes nonstop. We watch anime together, and we’ve moved on from sucking at League of Legends to building dreamy treehouses in Minecraft. In my opinion, our music taste has definitely developed too. She’s fallen down the K-Pop rabbit hole, whereas I’m a bit more into R&B and hip-hop. Despite our differences, I can always trust Grace with the aux cord. Deep down, I don’t think either of us is entirely out of our pop punk phase either. We’ve definitely had some interesting moments in the kitchen as well, whether that’s making an actual meal, or messing around with those DIY cooking kits meant for children. We did once make an entire Thanksgiving dinner for our friend group, and it was pretty damn good if I do say so myself. Additionally, we’re lovers of all things cute (which is definitely reflected in our Thanksgiving pie), and whenever I’m visiting her, we go on frequent Daiso (a chain of dollar stores with objects imported from Japan) trips to stock up on stationary, matching keychains, and other silly trinkets we don’t really need.

That’s the one disadvantage to the friendship--I have to visit Grace, and I don’t mean a walk across the street, a twenty minute bike ride, or even an hour long drive. I mean a three hour plane ride. Right before my freshman year, Grace’s dad got a new job opportunity working in Seattle, Washington. Essentially, she was torn out of the Midwestern cornfields and dropped off at a new trendy school in a new trendy neighborhood on the west coast as soon as we had started getting close. However, this didn’t stop us from deepening our bond. We did a surprisingly good job at staying in touch, and for the past five years we’ve been able to text for hours a day and call several times a week. As much as we both wish we could meet up at a small cafe for weekly study sessions, it’s just not possible, but we improvise. I’ve spent many nights on the phone with Grace while we watch cheesy animes, eat cut up fruit, and work on our homework. We miss each other like crazy, and COVID hasn’t made that any easier, but the saying “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” couldn’t be any more true.

When Grace and I do get the chance to be together, we go all out. I don’t know any friends who hang out quite the way we do. I don’t know anyone besides Grace who I’d be comfortable sharing a bath with while we wait for our lasagna to finish cooking in the oven. None of my other friends will have a candlelit dinner with me while listening to the Minecraft soundtrack, nor will they wake up at six in the morning to eat strawberries with me while we watch the sunrise. We once found out we were gonna be in the same airport at the same time, and decided to eat breakfast together before we had to part ways. We spend hours walking around the Mall of America since none of the malls in Washington even come close to comparing. One time we went to the art museum and pointed out any sculptures and paintings with two people in them that reminded us of ourselves.

That brings me to another point - Grace and I are insane at gift giving. With her sheer artistic talent, and my uncontrollable spending habits, we really do each other justice. Those sculptures that I mentioned Grace and I compared ourselves to? She made me a mini version of them for Christmas. No one else has ever taken the time to do something like that for me. This goes both ways. I know no one has ever gifted Grace an enormous package filled with nothing but merchandise from her favorite Sanrio character, Keroppi, or gifted her an entire outfit (complete with accessories) on her birthday. Even the letters she writes to me feel like tiny presents, they’re always handwritten and covered in adorable little stickers. She seals the envelopes with a wax stamp and everything. No one has ever done something so romantic for me before, not even my last boyfriend who I dated for two years.

I can tell Grace literally anything, and she can tell me anything too. I’ve found that in most relationships, there’s always certain things you can’t say to the other person. I’m bound to clash with almost everyone in my life at one point or another, and I can’t vent about someone’s BS to their own face. Even though things do get talked out with them eventually, it’s often after I have a lot of reflection and planning on how I want to discuss things. Grace is the exception to that--I can tell her anything. We almost never fight or get upset with each other. In fact, the only time we’ve ever had friend problems was when a girl at Grace’s school wasn’t too fond of me dating her ex-boyfriend, and she tried to mess with our friendship as a result. As you can probably guess, we got it figured out pretty quickly.

The bond Grace and I share is definitely not a common one to find. I’ve had friends tell me how badly they wish they had a friendship like Grace and I have, and honestly, I don’t blame them. I love every single one of my friends so much, but there’s such a great connection Grace and I have through our enjoyment of general dumbassery, but also our appreciation for things that are romantic and adorable. She’s the homemade whipped cream to my strawberry pie, the Dancing Figure #1 to my Dancing Figure #2. I want Grace to be in my life for a very long time, and I don’t doubt that’ll happen. I can’t wait for us to fall victim to the 50% divorce rate when we’re in our forties, and realize that “she was the one” all along. And I’m only half kidding.

[nuttmegg]

365 part Dos

Last year before my birthday, I decided I was going to leave all the bad juju in the past and focus on all the beautiful things that happened. Tomorrow is my birthday. So here is another look back at the all the magic I chose to look back on. 

April 2020: Spent a quarantine birthday getting day drunk with my work friends over zoom. Had a “laugh till you cry” easter brunch with my two best friends. Had a really cool outside dinner with my cousin and his wife, before they moved out of LA. Made Horchata for the first time. Discovered I really like Shakshuka. 

May 2020: Had a very drunk weekend by the pool with my best friends. Started my plant collection. Got to visit my parents and met their new puppy. Went searching for blue waves with no luck. Drank champagne with Tux on her birthday.

June 2020: Spent some quality time by the pool. Made scones for the first time ever. Watched the sunset of the longest day of the year. Threw a small going away party for a friend leaving for medical school on the east coast. BBQed for Verona’s birthday. 

July 2020: Had a picnic in the park. More pool time. Road tripped to northern California to see my little, then continued on to Humboldt to see my grand little before she left for the UK. Went walking among the redwoods. Had the best beach picnic with Fira and Halo. On the way home from my road trip I stopped and had dinner with my friend in Vet school. 

August 2020: Went on a cabin mini get away. Had some moonlight fun. Fell deeper in love on that trip. Went to a drive in Drag show. Celebrated the 1st birthday of the cutest little toddler. Watched a meteor shower on the hood of my car. Went camping along the center coast. Got drunk on a boat. Saw the cutest otters I’ve ever seen. Memorialized the trip by getting otter tattoos with my fellow campers. 

September 2020: California was on fire, so I hid at Starshines house. Had a boba date with my work wife and another coworker. Boba date turned into dinner and hours of talking. Spent a very late night in Long Beach with friends and watched a very intense ping pong game at 3am. Marie condo-ed my pantry and made Strawberry-Limeade for the first time.

October 2020: Had wine and Spanish food with Starshine and my parents. Went to a covid-cautious pumpkin carving party with friends. Took home a plant, that is still thriving. Went home to see my parents. Had cocktails with my cousins. Had a bonfire night hangout with my work friends. Had a living room sleep over with Starshine are her nephews. Watched the Dodgers win the World Series. Couples costumes for a halloween gathering with friends :D. Onesies with Starshine. 

November 2020: Got new glasses and a new president in the same week! Got to watch the first female POC vice president of the USA accept their victory. Had another laugh till you cry night out with my best friends. Thanksgiving with Starshine followed by another late night with just her, drinks and music. 

December 2020: fought with an internet troll, that probably left her bitter and definitely left me smug. Took myself for some quality me time at a park. Had a foodie adventure with Starshine. Saw the most beautiful sunset in Malibu. Went on a road trip for Starshines birthday. Stood at the center of the world. Petroglyphs! Walked through Tombstone. Spent a day at the Carlsbad Caverns! Had some fun in New Mexico. Checked out the petrified forest. Walked along the south rim of the Grand Canyon. Sat at the edge with Starshine and just zenned out. Admired the Saturn/Jupiter conjunction just outside of Sedona. Had coffee with my big. Spent a low key Christmas with my parents. I made pozole for the first time (with supervision).

January 2020: NYE with Starshine, amazing food, great wine, face-time with friends and lots of love. Drove two hours to pick up carnitas. Took food to my cousin and his pregnant wife. Got my first does of the covid shot. Spent crazy amount of time with Starshine. 

February 2020: Spent a low-key valentines day with Starshine, full of love. Got my second covid vaccine. Was finally able to remove my brace after breaking my arm. Potted all my plant clippings given to me by my big. My work wife asked me to be her bridesmaid, I cried. Drove to San Fransisco to get a tattoo. Enjoyed the color red with Starshine. Glamped along the central coast. Spent a day at the beach with Starshine are her family. Went wedding dress shopping for work wife.

March 2020: Made focaccia bread. Had an explore the city type day with Starshine, that ended with a wine and cheese night. Couch snuggles while it’s raining. Banana pancakes. Went searching for blue waves again with no luck.

April 2020: So far. I’ve watched the boys hunt for easter eggs. Got an adorable toddler to say my name. I’ve read two incredible books. 

This year has been...interesting. 365 days ago I didn’t think I’d fall in love. I didn’t think we’d still be in a lock down. I didn’t think my perspective on whats important would be so different. Last year I chose love. I chose to love me and to focus on the things that made me happy. This year I choose the same thing, because it brought me joy, it brought me love and it brought me happiness.

 Cheers to the next 365 days of being alive and enjoying every second of it. 

[buckthegrump]

The Christmas Spirit

Summary: The Christmas season is your favorite time of year and you’re having a great time until Bucky comes along to ruin it. Prompt:  “You remind me of the Grinch, you know?  Except his heart grows three sizes and you stay an asshole.”

Warnings: Fluff?. Swearing,

Word Count:

A/N: originally this was for one of @nataliarxmanxva  ‘s writing challenges I think (sorry i’m posting this in march)

November 1st was the day Christmas time started. A lot of people you knew thought that it was way too early for it but you didn’t let that stop you from blasting Christmas music and watching holiday movies. Your favorite thing by far though was the Christmas lights. It made the fact that sunset was at 4:30 less depressing and the literally lit up the city. The cold weather matched your wardrobe and honestly, nothing could ruin your good mood.

Except for one thing, and it, he rather, was insistent on ruining your good mood. And to be honest he was getting to you. Anytime you tried to get anyone from the team to go out to go ice skating or look at Christmas lights or do anything that deals with anything remotely close to Christmas, he was one of many shooting the idea down. For some reason it hurt more when he did it, you knew the reason why you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

Tonight was no different only tonight you were determined to win. You were going to win tonight.

“We should watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas or It’s a Wonderful Life.” You had suggested Christmas movies for the past few movie nights with no luck.

“Why it’s not even after Thanksgiving yet,” Bucky said. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Bucky, watching one Christmas movie isn’t going to kill anyone.” Steve was exhausted from your constant bickering.

“There’s no reason that we need to watch a Christmas movie before Thanksgiving,” Bucky argued.

“Y/n, just put in the Grinch.” Natasha sighed, and you obliged.

“Oh c’mon.” Bucky groaned.

“Buck, it’s only 30 minutes you can handle 30 minutes.” Sam raised his voice slightly.

The movie started and you tried to enjoy yourself, but every so often you heard him groaning.

The movie is almost over and you turn to the man who has set out to ruin your Christmas spirit.

“Bucky, you remind me of the Grinch, you know?” You made eye contact with him. “Except his heart grows three sizes and you stay an asshole.” Your outburst stunned him into silence, and you watched the last few minutes in peace.

Over the next few days, Bucky was back to his happiness hating self. You started avoiding him so you wouldn’t have to deal with him.

“Y/n you should talk to him and tell him that he needs to back off of Christmas,” Steve said the next morning before the rest of the team was up.

“Why?”

“He’s not very good at expressing himself.”

“He seems to be doing just fine to me.” This made Steve glare at you.

“You know what I mean. Besides you have to remember we grew up in a different time so we were taught differently than you were.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him.” You gave in and Steve smiled. “But he so much as blinks the wrong way and I’ll up my Christmas spirit to 100%.”

“You’re not at 100% now?” Steve’s voice cracked slightly.

You just shrugged and walked up to your room. On your way up you run into the Grinch himself. You should’ve left it, you should’ve kept walking but you didn’t.

“What the hell is your problem?” You stormed over to Bucky.

“What do you mean?” He backed away slightly.

“I put up with your bullshit for the rest of the year and you can’t leave me alone for this two months while I enjoy the best time of year?”

“I’m just confused as to why you love this season so much.” He admitted.

“Because it’s the best season.”

“How? It’s dark all the time the weather is terrible and the city is always so busy.”

“Come home with me,” you abruptly stated.

“What?” He asked understandably confused.

“For the holidays, come home with me. I want to show you why I love this season.” It was a long shot but you really wanted to at least try to show him.

“Yeah alright,” his agreement shocked you and you didn’t say anything as he walked away.

“So do you like Bucky?” Steve asked while he’s cooking dinner the next day and you almost choked on your drink.

“He’s fine.” You shrugged trying to keep cool.

“Don’t bullshit me Y/n, you know exactly what I’m asking you.” He looked at you. “C’mon there’s no one around, you can tell me.”

“Who knew that Captain America was a gossip.”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“You're damn right I am.” You suddenly found your hands very interesting.

“Please tell me.” Steve whined.

“Ok fine yes I have a crush on him. God. And it’s so irritating. Like why? Why do I hate myself? I should hate him he’s-” you ran your hands over your face. “He’s so grumpy? I don’t think that I’ve ever seen him smile, once. Is he allergic to happiness?”

“No, he just doesn’t understand the new age,” Steve said then a sly smile formed onto his face. “Besides something tells me he might like you too.”

“Oh give me a break.” You walked away and ignored Steve’s laughter and call for you to come back.

But you couldn’t help but think, what if he did?

Two weeks later you were at the airport with Bucky waiting for your flight. He was staring at his ticket.

“You’re from Oregon?” He looked at you.

“Yes, why is that surprising?”

“Well yeah, isn’t full of farms and small towns?” He asked.

“I mean yeah but I’m from the one part that doesn’t have small towns. But don’t worry we’ll have fun, the only time you want to be in Portland is during Christmas. It’s when there’s the most to do.”

“Whatever you say doll,” he smirked knowing that that nickname angered you. You rolled your eyes and you tried to ignore him for the rest of the time. But he kept asking you questions about your home, you begrudgingly answered them.

When you finally land in Portland you pulled him aside before leaving the terminal.

“So I forgot to warn you,” your voice is hushed.

“What?” His tone matched yours.

“My parents like to jump to conclusions, so they think we are dating and I have tried to correct them, but they are also stubborn and want me to be dating someone already.”

“Why would they think we’re dating?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Because I’m bringing you home for the holidays. That’s something you do with significant others.” Your whisper turned into more of a yell.

“Ok, well just leave it to me, I’ll take care of it.” He smiled and walked towards the escalators.

“What?” You stood there for a minute and watched him walk away. “Bucky what does that mean?”

You chased after him and caught up with him at the luggage claim and that’s when you heard them. Your parents. You braced yourself.

“Y/n!” Your mother yelled as she ran up to you and wrapped you in her arms. “Oh is this the man you brought home with you?” She took a step back looking him up and down. “He’s cute.”

“Mom!” You gasped.

“What? I’m just saying!” Your mother held up her hands.

“Honey leave our daughter alone.” Your dad came to your rescue. “Hi, kiddo.”

“Hi, dad.” You smiled then remember they’ve never actually met Bucky. “Mom, Dad, this is Bucky.”

“Hi,” Bucky said with a surprising amount of enthusiasm stretching out his right hand. “It’s so good to meet you.”

“Oh, nice shake.” Your dad commented.

“Since when do you care about a handshake?” Your mother asked the question you had on your mind.

“Isn’t that just something people say?” You father half whispered looking at you and you shake your head.

“Come on dear, grab your friend and let’s go try and beat traffic.” You mother herded you back to the car.

When you finally got home your mother said that you could share a room since you were dating. You were about to correct your mother or at least try when Bucky spoke.

“Thank you so much,” he smiled and placed a hand on the small of your back and led you up the stairs.

You closed the door to your old room when you were inside with Bucky. You turned to him, “what the hell?”

“What?” He asked with the same amount of confusion that you felt.

“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” You asked and he just looked at you not giving you an answer. “Bucky.”

“I’m honestly not sure.” He turned and started unpacking. You decided to let it go for now.

“So I was thinking that we could take a nap and then I could show you around town.”

“You only have one bed,” he pointed to your queen sized bed.

“Unlike you, I’m ok with sharing.” You set an alarm and fall onto the bed.

You and Bucky were standing at the waterfront, you had taken him to Peacock lane and the Winter Wonderland at the race track but he kept complaining about something.

You were currently waiting for the boat parade to start. You had made Bucky get Christmas drinks with you, in hopes that he wouldn’t complain about the cold again.

But Bucky wasn’t paying attention to that, he was barely even paying attention to the boats when they finally started. He was paying attention to you, how your face would light up at every new set up, and how his heart stopped when you looked at him and smiled. He knew he was in trouble when he felt the urge to kiss you, he had felt that urge before but never this strong and never this long.

“Did you enjoy it?” You were walking back to the car and had expected him to say no.

“Ya know what I did.” He sounded like he actually meant it and you took off your glove and pressed your hand to his forehead.

“Are you feeling ok?” You flipped your hand as if checking for a fever. “You don’t feel warm.”

“I’m not sick.” He playfully pushed your hand away.

“Ok so tomorrow, we have one more thing we need to see.”

“Y/n don’t you think we should slow down on the Christmas adventure?”

You just gave him a look as you got into the car.

“Wait, Y/n.” He rushed to the other side of the car and got in. “Why aren’t we slowing down? I’m tired and just want to sleep.”

“Tomorrow is Wednesday which is the best day to go to Zoo Lights because no one goes on a Wednesday.” You said and drive home.

“You said that no one would be here,” Bucky whispered into your ear. You were standing in one of two lines and they were a little long but this was nothing in comparison to what they would be like on a weekend.

“It won’t be as bad when we get in there, besides you should see this place on the free entry day, now that is a shitshow.” You whispered back.

When you were finally walking around you are literally giddy. You had been there a few times before. But this time was different somehow, you felt different. You finally got to one of your favorite parts. The tunnel, it’s just a tunnel of lights but it made you feel like you were in a movie.

“Y/n,” Bucky stopped you at the end of the tunnel.

“What?”

“You’re infuriating, do you know this?” You opened your mouth to respond but he stopped you. “No, let me finish. You love Christmas so much it’s almost annoying, it should be annoying, I should find it so annoying. But I don’t. I find it charming, endearing, hell I find it adorable. I find you adorable. And there are times when I just want to. . . Oh god,” he paused and looked as if he’s just realized something. “I’m in love with you.”

You stood there not saying anything so he spoke again.

“Y/n I’m in love with you.” He looked at you.

“So you're heart does grow.” You joked.

He scoffed and starts to walk away but you grab his arm and pull him back. You took him by surprise when you kissed him. It takes a moment but he kissed you back. When you pulled away he almost doesn’t let you. “I’m in love with you too.”

“Does this mean that you don’t think I’m an asshole anymore?” He smiled.

“No, you’re still an asshole.”

[jimothysomebody]

Very slowly tidying and bracing myself for tomorrow's all-day-long mania of getting up early, watching a thanksgiving day parade, cooking, handling refreshments and desserts, and entertaining guests for my thanksgiving dinner. This probably seems like passive bitching but honestly I love doing it every year. Managing the meal, occupying the guests, cooking and serving everything from the comfort of my own home. It can be a little frantic, but it's fun 🙂 https://www.instagram.com/p/B5YkLGKHuMNgEoZ2UnGCtzgmcsJf7ahS1zHcM00/?igshid=1o0ses2r90eo0

[softspideys]

Hang the DJ (Part II) (Tom Holland x reader)

summary: paired up by a dating program that puts an expiration date on all relationships, you and Tom soon begin to question the system’s logic

warnings: none

words: 1.8k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: wow, I actually updated?? it’s a thanksgiving miracle!! I hope ppl still actually want to read this oops. also I apologize for making zendaya the equivalent of nicola but it had to be done somehow.

“I guess I just don’t see the point in something so short,” you said. You’d gone for a walk and were now perched on a grassy hill, looking out at a peaceful lake. Your date with Tom had been a few days ago, but you were still thinking about it.

“Even your reaction to a brief encounter provides the system with valuable information,” Coach said.

“But I didn’t even do anything,” you said, frowning. “Does the system think I’m a prude?”

“The system makes no moral judgments.”

“How do I know she wasn’t the perfect match for me?” Tom asked as he jogged through the park. Like you, he couldn’t stop thinking about your date, wondering why you’d clicked so well but weren’t meant to be together.

“Your ultimate compatible other has not been selected yet,” Coach said.

“I know, but like, what if it was her? What if—”

“The system gains insight as each participant progresses through numerous relationships and uses the gathered data to eventually select an ultimate compatible other,” Coach said.

“On your pairing day, yeah,” Tom said. “Does it always find your perfect match?”

“In 99.8% of cases,” Coach said.

“But I have to go through loads of relationships to find them,” Tom said slowly.

“That is correct.”

As you got up to leave the hill, your tablet dinged. “What’s this?” you asked. “Another relationship?”

As Tom turned around to start jogging home, his tablet dinged. “What, another?” he asked.

“That is correct,” both of your Coaches answered.

“Huh,” you said. You wondered what your date would be like this time. “I guess I should go get ready.”

Tom pulled the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his face and caught a whiff of himself. “Ugh. I guess I should go get changed.”

★ ★ ★

When you arrived at the restaurant later that night, Coach informed you that your date wasn’t there yet. You sat down at a booth, different from the one you’d sat in with Tom, and waited.

A few minutes later, a man walked into the restaurant, holding his tablet and looking around. His dirty blond hair was tousled and wind-blown, and the bright blue of his eyes stood out even from across the room.

“Please, please tell me this is him,” you whispered.

“I cannot confirm identity until a personal introduction is made,” Coach answered, unhelpful per usual.

The man began to make his way over to you. “Hi,” he said when he approached your table. “I’m Harrison.”

“Y/N,” you answered, standing up to shake his hand and silently thanking all of the forces of the universe at work for pairing you with him.

“I like your hair,” he said as you took your seats.

“I like yours too.”

“Thanks, I grew it myself,” he said. It wasn’t a particularly clever joke, but you laughed at it for a few seconds too long. He furrowed his eyebrows. Shit. There was something about attractive men that made you nervous, although you couldn’t remember feeling that way with Tom.

“Sorry,” you said, immediately trying to form an about-face. “That was just . . . funny.”

“Gotcha,” Harrison said, nodding slowly. “Hey, do you want to check our expiry date? Get that out of the way?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said. The two of you pulled up the info and pressed REVEAL.

9 MONTHS

“Oh,” you said, trying not to look too thrilled. “Wow.”

“Well,” Harrison said, smiling at you. “Cheers to the next nine months.” He held up his wine glass. You grinned, clinking yours against his.

“Cheers.”

★ ★ ★

When Tom arrived at the restaurant, a beautiful but formidable-looking girl was already sitting in the booth. “Hi,” he said, nervously playing with the buttons on his jacket, “I’m Tom.”

“Zendaya,” she said without smiling. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I had to change.”

“Hmm.”

“Uh, I see you ordered already?” Tom asked, sitting down across from her.

“I got hungry,” she said, raising her eyebrows like she was daring him to find a problem with that.

“Right, yeah, of course.”

There was an awkward pause before Zendaya said, “So, should we just get it over with?” At Tom’s confused look, she said, “Check our expiry date?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Sure.” As they both looked at their tablets, Tom privately hoped their relationship would be another one of those 12-hour ones. This girl seemed a little too intense for him.

At the count of three, they both pressed REVEAL.

365 DAYS

For a second, neither of them spoke. “This must be a mistake,” Zendaya said with a disbelieving laugh. “It’s gotta be. Coach, is this a mistake?” Tom knew he should probably feel insulted, but he also kind of wanted it to be a mistake too.

“This is not a mistake,” Zendaya’s Coach answered.

Of course.

“God,” Zendaya said, sitting back in her seat heavily. “An entire year.”

“Look on the bright side,” Tom tried to joke as the waiter brought out his food. “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“What?”

“Spaghetti and—it was a joke,” he finished lamely at her unimpressed look.

“Oh, so you make jokes,” Zendaya said flatly. Tom swallowed.

Only 365 days left.

★ ★ ★

“Hmm,” Harrison said as you entered the house you’d be living in for the next nine months. “Yup, this is pretty much the same as my last one.”

It was different from the one you’d stayed in during your short time with Tom: this one resembled more of a cozy log cabin, with exposed wooden beams, an open floor plan, rustic furniture, big, airy windows, and a huge stone fireplace crackling away merrily.

“Last one?” you said. “How many of these have you had?”

“Relationships?” Harrison asked. You nodded. “Well, let’s see . . . this will be my sixth, I think.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I’m a veteran now, I suppose,” he said with a grin. “Anyway, I’m going to go shower, do you mind?”

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. While he was gone, you went from room to room, taking everything in and getting used to the fact that for the next nine months, this was going to be your home. With Harrison.

When he came out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, it was to you sitting on the bed, looking around idly. “Hey,” he said, smiling.

“Hi.”

“So, listen, I know this is kinda forward, but this is relationship six for me. I’ve honestly found that it’s just best to have sex straight away. You know, it breaks the ice, gives a kind of glimpse into our compatibility.”

“Right, yeah,” you said. It was a miracle your voice still worked.

He picked up his tablet from where he’d tossed it on the bed. “So, this is me consenting to everything now. And whenever you feel comfortable doing the same—”

Before Harrison even finished his sentence, you’d grabbed your own tablet and pressed the button. He laughed, raising his eyebrows. “Okay then,” he said, and dropped the towel.

★ ★ ★

“Meatballs,” Zendaya grunted.

“What?” Tom said. They were currently in the middle of having some, admittedly, very boring sex. She hadn’t even wanted to do that much foreplay, or even really kiss. “Just put it in,” were her specific words.

“Meatballs,” she repeated. Tom was wondering if that was some sort of safeword (but how could it be? They were literally in missionary, his hands braced on either side of her head) when she sighed and said, “Your breath. Meatballs.”

“Oh,” Tom said, realizing she was talking about his dinner. “Sorry, I—”

“Talking does not help it,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Tom closed his mouth and tried to mumble, “Sorry.” He turned his head and tried to concentrate on thrusting into her, feeling how nice and soft she was, and—

Suddenly, your face popped into his head. Tom blinked. Well, that was weird.

“Let’s just do it from behind,” Zendaya said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“From behind.” So, they switched positions, with her getting on her hands and knees and Tom kneeling behind her. He lined himself up with her entrance and pushed in slowly before pulling back out and sliding in again.

“Faster,” Zendaya instructed. “More motion.”

Tom tried to speed up his thrusts, holding onto her hips for support. “Um, like this?”

“No, more motion. Like, side-to-side. You’re all in-out-in-out like you’re trying to shut the drawer of a filing cabinet.”

Ouch. “Uh, okay.” He tried to do as he was told, and for the next few minutes Zendaya was quiet, her head bowed. That seemed to be a good sign. Maybe she was actually enjoying herself. “Is that better?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” Zendaya said finally. “Not really.”

★ ★ ★

You lay in bed, listening to the sound of Harrison making you some post-sex food. You were too spent to even get up and help him.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he was a veteran with relationships. The sex had been incredible and pretty fun, too, full of jokes and whispering in between your soft moans and whimpers. He didn’t even mind letting you go on top, gripping your hips and staring up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth as you rode him.

If this was what the next nine months were looking like, then you certainly weren’t going to complain.

Oddly enough, as you waited for Harrison to come back, you found yourself thinking about Tom. You wondered what he was doing, if he too was in another relationship with somebody else. You hoped that whoever she was, she was treating him well.

Harrison returned with a plateful of toast, bacon, and eggs. “Nothing like breakfast at midnight,” he said with a smile. You laughed, taking a few slices.

The two of you ate in silence, both consumed in your own thoughts. Suddenly, a loud, wet noise brought you back to the present. You glanced over and saw Harrison eating a piece of toast, chewing loudly with his mouth open.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Okay, gross. But maybe he didn’t know he was doing it. Maybe the food was just hard to eat. But it’s toast, you said to yourself. Toast isn’t hard to eat.

You decided not to say anything about it. It was your first night together and you’d just finished having sex; now was not the time to be bringing up any potential annoying habits.

Later, you were still awake long after Harrison had fallen asleep. You lifted your head and saw one of his hands was on the mattress between you, palm up. For some reason, you thought of Tom.

Very carefully, you reached over and slid your fingers into Harrison’s. His hand tightened around yours as he let out a soft snore without waking up. You lay back and closed your eyes, trying to imagine Tom’s hand there instead.

But it still didn’t feel the same.

★ ★ ★

“So I can’t just walk away?” Tom asked as he gave the punching bag several good hits.

“That is correct,” Coach said. “One day it will provide you with your ultimate perfect match.”

“One day,” Tom repeated. “One day.”

[poor-sickies]

hey I'm the anon who asked for braces Lance, i was thinking maybe he had to get when he's like nineteen and feels kinda upset about having them so late when usually people get them in middle or high school? And idk he just feels self conscious and uncomfortable, plus he's hurting, so Keith tries to distract him because he went through having braces too?

Ahh this is such an old request and I’m so sorry I’m only writing it now! It was kind of a quick thing, so I hope there aren’t any mistakes. It’s also a fic that happens in my band AU. I hope you like it!

Also kudos to @cinquefoilelove who left some replies that gave me ideas for this one :)

*

“Can I come in?”

It’s Keith voice from the other side of the door, and despite their usual and familiar bickering, Lance can be sure he hasn’t come to make fun of him.

But he still wants to be alone.

He knows he’s probably making a big deal out of this – and really, it’s not even that bad, all things considered. All in all, it’s nothing worse than a simple teenage drama, in Lance’s opinion.

Except he isn’t really a teenager anymore, he’s nineteen, and nineteen year olds shouldn’t be getting braces.

It had started with some dull pains in his lower jaw, the joint clicking each time he opened his mouth, getting worse and worse until he was avoiding eating and singing because of the discomfort.

While visiting his family on Thanksgiving, his parents had noticed the problem and dragged him to a dentist. The outcome was…not pleasant. Something about a bad positioning of his jaw that needed to be fixed? Lance can’t recall the details over the dread filling his stomach, but the only solution was braces, and he was not happy.

And just because some days just kept getting worse, this morning, on his way to the dentist, he receives a call from Hunk, about a last-minute scheduled show Allura had got for them tonight, at the local University bar.

Two hours later, returning from the dentist, and he’s starting to wonder if he’s brave enough to go through with the show at all.

Just talking feels difficult enough, with all the wires and foreign pieces muddling his speech, and the new sores around his cheeks and tongue stinging at every little movement of his mouth. Not to mention the annoying and constant pressure all over his gums and jaw. If Lance had the night to himself, he would probably head to bed right after dinner with a couple of painkillers and hope it all felt a little better tomorrow.

The prospect of singing for fifty people isn’t nearly as appealing as usual when he’s in this much pain.

And looking in the mirror only reminded him of why this all had bothered him so much in the first place.

It’s no secret to anyone that Lance puts a lot of effort in his appearance. Even before stepping up as frontman of the band, his image has always been something he pays a lot of attention to. And even though he’s seen a lot of cute girls that look adorable in braces, he’s wasn’t exactly confident about how it all would look on him.

Now that he has the answer, he feels an urge to hide any mirror in sight.

How is he supposed to talk to his fans? To sing for them? He feels so unattractive and awkward, and not even his upbeat personality will help. Lance’s confidence is enough when he’s wearing his best shirts, glowing skin, crooked smirk that leaves the girls swooning, but that’s where most of it comes from.

He doesn’t care if his mother said he looked fine, these braces make him feel awkward and young all over again. He doesn’t know if he’s more embarrassed about the way he looks or the extent to which he’s taking this drama, but either way, he wants to be alone.

So no, the last thing he wants to do is to talk, even with Keith.

“I wanna be alone.”

But Keith was nothing if not persistent. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and open the damn door.”

And brutally honest, for that matter.

Lance opens the door and Keith goes in, quickly taking a seat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed against his chest.

“So,” he starts, “you wanna talk about it?”

Lance sits cross legged in the floor, leaning against the bed. “You just told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

Keith is caught off guard for a moment. He was expecting Lance to just spill things out, like he usually did, but apparently, this was getting to him a bit more than usual.

“I- look, I’m just trying to help, okay? Talking usually makes you feel better, right? So talk to me.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” Lance sighs, looking down at his lap, “and my speech is all fucked up, and my tongue is cut up all over, and my teeth hurt and - it looks bad. I look like a middle school kid. It just looks so awkward…so yeah, that’s it. You happy now?”

“I think you’re being dramatic,” Keith says, “I mean, I get the pain, I’ve been there - your teeth are moving, of course it’s gonna hurt for a while - but you don’t need to feel self-conscious about it. Besides, you’re only wearing them for like… a year, is it?” Lance nods, looking down, and Keith carries on. “Try wearing them for three years, maybe then you’ll have a reason to sulk.”

Well. It’s nothing he hadn’t expected from Keith. Trust Keith to be blunt.

“You had braces for that long?” He manages to ask.

Keith nods, eyes rolling involuntarily at the unpleasant memories. “Yeah. It sucked. I’d show you pictures if I had them - I’m sure you’d feel a lot better about yourself after seeing them.”

“That bad?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith continues, “Yours look somewhat discrete, actually.”

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, they sure are really invisible,” he trails off sarcastically.

Keith sighs. This isn’t working so well.

“Do you remember last summer when you were drunk and Pidge convinced you to get a death hawk for that rock festival, and you shaved half of your head?”

“Wow Keith, is that how you’re trying to make me feel better? By bringing up all the times I looked freaking terrible?”

“Would you just hear me out?!” Keith interrupts loudly, clinging to every last ounce of patience he still has. “Do you remember what you said at the time? The next day, when you saw yourself in the mirror?”

“That I would hide in my room and never see the sunlight again…?”

“Exactly. But you got over it. Do you remember why?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Uh, cause… hair grows back?”

“No. Because you get used to it,” Keith says, “look, I’ve been there, okay? I know how much it sucks. But I can promise you, it’s not always gonna feel like that. And honestly, people don’t care that much.”

“Ugh. I hate it when you actually sound reasonable.” Lance sighs. “Alright. I’ll try to keep positive. And hope the show doesn’t go terribly.”

Keith chuckles with a fond smile. “Now will you come? We still have to get some dinner before.”

“Ah, that’s gonna be fun..” Lance rolls his eyes, and gets up. “Let’s get moving.”

*

“Hm. I see you’ve added something,” Shiro says as Lance takes a seat beside him, at their usual table at the bar.

“Yeah,” Lance chuckles, still looking down, “lucky me.”

“Oh Lance,” Allura says, “you have such a nice smile. I’m certain that’s what people notice right away.”

“I - thanks, Allura,” Lance blushes, feeling better for the first time since the day started.

“So, we were talking,” Pidge says, “and we agreed that if you’re not feeling up to it, Keith can do the vocals for most of the songs and hand you the guitar for a while.”

Keith nods, fingers still busy tuning the strings on his guitar.

“My voice is working fine,” Lance explains, “I can still do it.”

“Yeah, but we know it’s not comfortable yet, so just let us know if you need to stop, okay? And maybe take a painkiller.” Hunk reassures, giving a gentle squeeze to Lance’s forearm.

“The show starts in half an hour, we should probably have dinner now,” Shiro points out.

“Oh good, they have those amazing burritos, I’ll be set for the night!” Hunk grins, before calling the waiter.

“Ugh, guess I’ll order some water then,” Lance grumbles, rubbing his cheek, “ice cold.”

“Aw, buddy,” Hunk looks over at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you should really eat something before the show…did you even eat lunch?”

The waiter stops at the table and starts taking note of Keith and Pidge’s orders.

“Maybe some scrambled eggs?” Shiro suggests, leaning closer. He then turns to the waiter, “make them soft.”

Lance manages to eat, slowly and carefully. The painkiller starts kicking in, and the pain isn’t as bad, but talking is still uncomfortable, and he really doesn’t want to imagine how singing will turn out. The thought gives him some unusual stage fright, and it’s not a sensation he likes. He puts down his fork, and tries to relax. He’s done this dozens of times. Why is he so anxious now? The stage is usually his happy place, and it really sucks that such a tiny problem is making him feel like this.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge calls out, tapping his shoulder. “Calm down. Your leg is bouncing like crazy.”

“I – yeah. Sorry Pidge.”

“Oh, I think we have to go now. The stage is set up,” Shiro announces, and they all get up, walking to the back to get ready.

“It’s okay, Lance,” Pidge says, plugging her bass to the amplificator, slinging the strap around her neck. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re an amazing singer. How terrible can you be? And why does it matter if it doesn’t go well? I mean, we’ve done tons of great shows, it’s not a huge deal if this one doesn’t go that great. Just relax and have fun, like you always do. That’s usually what makes our songs great.” She argues. “Besides,” she lowers her voice with a sly smile, “this place doesn’t have amazing acoustics. So even if you mess up some words, the crowd will most likely not notice. You’ll be great.”

That’s some kid of security Lance can lean on. He trusts his bandmates. This is not some new situation. He just needs to relax and have fun. Feeling revigorated, he nods. “Thanks, Pidge. Let’s do this.”

[sepublic]

2018 in review...

What a year. I’m honestly baffled at how... LONG and eventful 2018 was. People really aren’t joking when they say it felt like forever.

And I can see why, with all of the many, many things that happened. Many, major things. So to celebrate the end of 2018, which I consider to be one of the better years of my life... I really just want to review, in as close to chronological order, all of the major things I remembered and enjoyed;

There was me wrapping up Pokemon Ultra Moon.

I also began to finish Super Mario Odyssey, as well as Mario Kart for the Switch.

I watched the Greatest Showman, which was amazing.

There were the memes, of course. Ugandan Knuckles, Tide Pod challenge, Spaghet...

I began writing a personal, original story of mine and felt for the first time in a long while the simple joy of writing and the imagination that comes with it...

I tried Super Chix for the first time.

Shortly after I got my braces, which was genuinely painful.

Black Panther came out and was a MASSIVE success as the ninth highest grossing film of all time.

I watched my first new season of Voltron, Season 5. I’d also like to point out that the latter half of the entire show aired this year. All of it, from Lotor to Sendak to Adam’s rushed death to the disappointing finale. Yet I still enjoyed the show, by the end of the day.

The first Aru Shah book came out and I enjoyed that immensely.

Kirby Star Allies has its initial release, as well as the release of its DLC, this year. A VERY satisfying game with plenty of new lore for the series, as well as certain characters returning and being playable.

I got introduced due to Heathers the Musical, and later got interested in Hamilton and Wicked.

Infinity War, my most anticipated film of ALL time. I legit bought reserved seating for it ASAP upon the release of the second trailer. The film was amazing and somehow exceeded my wildest expectations... and then there’s the cultural impact, from the memes, the quotes, the mutual tragedy, all of it. Cinema history.

Trials of Apollo: The Burning Maze was released. RIP

I achieved a personal fitness record by jogging for about an hour and a half, my longest time yet- and I continued to do that every once in a while.

There was the many, many Steven bombs... we got Emerald, a Lapis Lazuli song, and of course the Pink Diamond reveal... THAT messed me up. Then the aftermath, including the return of Bismuth, the Diamond attack, Nephrite, as well as White Diamond and her pearl.

I rekindled my interest in Bionicle, and went back to doing drawings and creating lore for a hypothetical rewrite of G2.

There was the beauty that was Ninjago: Sons of Garmadon, as well as Harumi. Up there with Tournament of Elements as the best seasons of all. Harumi is one of my favorite characters now, as is Faith.

I saw the trailer for Hazbin Hotel and got hooked onto the series, and have since followed its numerous updates, including clips of the show.

I got reinterested in Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Time and completed it after years in my ownership. Then I got Explorers of Time, but I’ve dropped that. I’ll finish it next year.

Solo: A Stars Wars story was surprisingly enjoyable and inspired me creatively.

I went to Florida again and had a great time at Crab Island. I revisited New York a second time, and I’m still surprised by how much I enjoy just the atmosphere of being there.

There was E3, with all of the game announcements. Me following up excitedly on Smash Bros Ultimate, the directs, the character reveals, the memes... and of course me playing the game on release day.

I’m still hyped for the Resident Evil 2 remake.

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom came out with the Indoraptor, one of my favorite monsters of all time now. There was also Incredibles 2, something we’ve waited for for over a decade. And after that, Ant Man and the Wasp.

I got interested in the Metroid Series, and have played Fusion, Zero Mission, and Samus Returns. I have yet to give Super Metroid or the Prime series a try.

Speaking of games, I enjoyed Warioware Gold. I also got my aunt’s old NES and some classic cakes like Mario and Zelda.

I read Poisonwood Bible. I dressed up as something different for Halloween for the first time in years- A Plague Doctor.

There was also a lot of depressing deaths... Stefan Karl Steffanson. Stephen Hawking, Stan Lee, Stephen Hillenburg. All of their names started with ST and I will continue to cherish all of them.

I also discovered Tumblr for the first time and have since been riding the highs and lows of this hellhole. I’ve made posts and a few have gone past 100 notes, which is neat.

I worked on my drawing skills and did a personal major accomplishment on a piece.

I watched Venom and enjoyed it WAY more than I ever expected myself to. Like, WAY more.

The Castlevania Netflix series had its second season, and I began and finished both seasons in a day.

Speaking of Netflix, Hilda was amazing, as well as She-Ra, and Dragon Prince.

Thanksgiving Break, I watched both Fantastic Beasts movies back-to-back, first at home and then in the cinema.

I went Black Friday shopping for the first time ever.

All of the splendid movies that came out in December, including Into the Spiderverse, Bumblebee, and Aqua Man- another film I enjoyed a lot more than I did. Not as much as Venom, but still.

For Christmas, I had SEVERAL back-to-back feasts, lunches and dinners, eating out and/or eating big at someone else’s home, or my home. I really need to burn off the fat.

I got a Zoku Slush maker and experimented with that with varying degrees of success.

AAAAND that’s about it. I watched the New Year’s countdown for New York, like every year, with my family.

It’s been quite a wild ride, and one of the craziest years I’ve ever experienced. And yet, looking back...

I wouldn’t change a thing.

Happy New Years, everyone. Goodbye to a beloved 2018, and hello to new hopes for 2019!

[purplesurveys]

411

Do you have any old calendars in your room? I have old planners from 2012-2017 if they count as calendars. Do you have any exercise equipment you just hang clothes on? I don’t even have exercise equipment of my own at all haha. Even if I did though I don’t think I’d be that messy. What do you like best about yourself? I’m quite detail-oriented. I can be crazy about it but I’d take it over being inattentive any day. What was the last movie you saw in theaters? I *think* it was Rainbow’s Sunset. It had such potential for a Filipino LGBT film, but they squashed it so bad. Is there a certain breed of dog you just can't stand? Fucking chihuahuas. I never want one of those near me lmao. I MEAN I’d save one of them if they were dying or starving, but I generally just hate their attitude.

Do you own any stuffed animals? I don’t, but my sister is nuts about them. She buys a new one every time we go to the mall. How long until your next birthday? Three weeks till I’m 21 bound. When was the last time you had peanut butter? I’m not so sure. I don’t really like when it’s a spread, but I will have peanut butter-flavored anything. Obama: Love him or hate him? As an observer from the outside, I love him. He’s at least better than the shitshow y’all had elected three years ago. Do you try to blend in with the crowd, or prefer to stand out? I just do my own thing and wouldn’t really care if I ended up as the former or the latter. Say something about the last person to comment you on myspace: What was the last book you read? Idk, something for my Pol Sci class if that counts. How are you currently feeling at the moment? I’m a little hungover and sleepy and I need sloppy hangover food right now, but it’s nothing serious. And the reason for that feeling? I drank so much last night and ate very little. Do you ever feel like you should have been born in a different decade? No, I’m fine where I’m at. Do you like the winter? I would probably like it if I got to experience it. Do you currently have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Yes. Will that be changing anytime soon? Highly doubt it. What was the last thing you bought? How much did you spend on it? A pitcher of some cocktail. I don’t even remember how much it was, I just kept pulling out money last night. Are you a Twilight fan? YESSSSSSSSSSSSS If so, have you seen the movie yet? I’ve seen the first one a literal hundred times. I know every word to it. How many profile views do you have on MySpace? What do you currently hear? There was a tricycle (or a motorcycle?) that zoomed past the house just now and I heard its engine. Anything hurting on you right now? Just my stomach because it feels empty.

When was the last time you sent someone a letter in the mail? Wow uhhh never haha. Do you like video games? I can appreciate them, but I don’t play them myself. Anything you're looking forward to? I’m watching the UP/ADMU volleyball game laterrrrr and I’m super excited for it. Are you currently missing someone? Kind of. Anything you're wanting to say to someone right now? Sure. Do you have anything in your room that has penguins on it? I doubt it. Are you any good at HTML? I used to be when I would edit my themes on Tumblr. I barely remember any of those tricks now. Do you like the band Mae? (They're amazing!) Never heard. Have you ever kissed someone who had braces? Yes. Funny feeling, but it’s cute. What's your favorite fruit? I hate fruit!!! If you could dye your hair any color, what color would it be? This was also asked in the previous survey. Dark green. What's the most random thing in your room? I have a weird inflated figure of a pig on top of my closet. I won it at an arcade. Do you say "like" too much? Yeah I think so. In your opinion, what's the worst music genre out there? I’m not gonna shit on an entire genre and call it the worst lol. I can live without country, though. What was the last thing you ate? One of the basic burgers at McDonald’s and their fries. Are you currently on a diet? Nope. Have you ever experienced true love? What I’ve been experiencing for three years feels like it, but I don’t really like to claim it - the idea of ~true love~ is very subjective. What's the longest relationship you've been in? Three years.

What are your plans for Thanksgiving? (Assuming you celebrate it, that is) What does your last text say? “I’ll excuse us.” Do you believe in evolution or Creation? Evolution. Duh? Have you ever been to any concerts? Which ones? Paramore two times, One Direction, Coldplay (from the fifth floor of a parking lot), a whole bunch of local gigs. Who was the last person to smack your booty? Probs Gab. Bright colors or pastels? Pastels! What's something you're really wanting right now? HANGOVER FOOD. I need a really greasy fried chicken with nachos and a burger right now, fuuuuuuuck. I’m so hungry. Do you like Paramore? OMG I didn’t know this question was going to be on here :(((((( I LOVE THEM On average, how much TV do you watch each day? 0. Do you need to do laundry? I don’t do laundry. Do you download songs illegally? (i.e. Limewire) I used to, but now I just do Spotify. Do you play any instruments? I can’t. I was not blessed in that department. If not, do you wish you did? Of course I do. I would have loved to know how to play the piano or the violin. What was the last song/songs you listened to on repeat? Lie To Me by 5SOS. Who are your top friends? QUICK! The world is ending!!! Fish or chicken??? Chicken. Anywho, when was the last time you went out on a date? Last Thursday. Gab and I had Yabu for dinner - been legit a long while since we had a proper dinner like that. Pants or shorts? Shorts. Do you need to pee? Not right now. Plans for tomorrow? Study! Gotta bounce back after this shitty week. When was the last time you colored in a coloring book? December. I invested in several adult coloring books at the time to help cope with my annual Christmas depression thing. Are you really a kid at heart? I can be.