#currently on 78 and it's still holding up

[deanpinterester]

detco heads, be honest with me. at what point (either in manga or animated forms) did detco start getting bad for you.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 6, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Nov 06, 2024

Yesterday, November 5, 2024, Americans reelected former president Donald Trump, a Republican, to the presidency over Democratic candidate Vice President Kamala Harris. As of Wednesday night, Trump is projected to get at least 295 electoral votes to Harris’s 226, with two Republican-leaning states still not called. The popular vote count is still underway.

Republicans also retook control of the Senate, where Democrats were defending far more seats than Republicans. Control of the House is not yet clear. 

These results were a surprise to everyone. Trump is a 78-year-old convicted felon who has been found liable for sexual assault and is currently under indictment in a number of jurisdictions. He refused to leave office peacefully when voters elected President Joe Biden in 2020, instead launching an unprecedented attack on the U.S. Capitol to stop the counting of electoral votes, and said during his campaign that he would be a “dictator” on his first day in office.  

Pollsters thought the race would be very close but showed increasing momentum for Harris, and Harris’s team expressed confidence during the day. By posting on social media—with no evidence—that the voting in Pennsylvania was rigged, Trump himself suggested he expected he would lose the popular vote, at least, as he did in 2016 and 2020. 

But in 2024, it appears a majority of American voters chose to put Trump back into office. 

Harris and her running mate, Minnesota governor Tim Walz, offered a message of unity, the expansion of the economic policies that have made the U.S. economy the strongest in the world in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic, and the creation of an “opportunity economy” that echoed many of the policies Republicans used to embrace. Trump vowed to take revenge on his enemies and to return the country to the neoliberal policies President Joe Biden had rejected in favor of investing in the middle class.

When he took office, Biden acknowledged that democracy was in danger around the globe, as authoritarians like Russian president Vladimir Putin and China’s president Xi Jinping  maintained that democracy was obsolete and must be replaced by autocracies. Russia set out to undermine the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) that enforced the rules-based international order that stood against Russian expansion. 

Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán, who overturned democracy in his own country, explained that the historical liberal democracy of the United States weakens a nation because the equality it champions means treating immigrants, LGBTQ+ individuals, and women as equal to men, thus ending traditionally patriarchal society.

In place of democracy, Orbán champions “illiberal democracy,” or “Christian democracy.” This form of government holds nominal elections, although their outcome is preordained because the government controls all the media and has silenced opposition. Orbán’s model of minority rule promises a return to a white-dominated, religiously based society, and he has pushed his vision by eliminating the independent press, cracking down on political opposition, getting rid of the rule of law, and dominating the economy with a group of crony oligarchs. 

In order to strengthen democracy at home and abroad, Biden worked to show that it delivered for ordinary Americans. He and the Democrats passed groundbreaking legislation to invest in rebuilding roads and bridges and build new factories to usher in green energy. They defended unions and used the Federal Trade Commission to break up monopolies and return more economic power to consumers. 

Their system worked. It created record low unemployment rates, lifted wages for the bottom 80% of Americans, and built the strongest economy in the world in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic, setting multiple stock market records.  But that success turned out not to be enough to protect democracy. 

In contrast, Trump promised he would return to the ideology of the era before 2021, when leaders believed in relying on markets to order the economy with the idea that wealthy individuals would invest more efficiently than if the government regulated business or skewed markets with targeted investment (in green energy, for example). Trump vowed to cut taxes for the wealthy and corporations and to make up lost revenue through tariffs, which he incorrectly insists are paid by foreign countries; tariffs are paid by U.S. consumers. 

For policies, Trump’s campaign embraced the Project 2025 agenda led by the right-wing Heritage Foundation, which has close ties to Orbán. That plan calls for getting rid of the nonpartisan civil service the U.S. has had since 1883 and for making both the Department of Justice and the military partisan instruments of a strong president, much as Orbán did in Hungary. It also calls for instituting religious rule, including an end to abortion rights, across the U.S. Part of the idea of “purifying” the country is the deportation of undocumented immigrants: Trump promised to deport 20 million people at an estimated cost of $88 billion to $315 billion a year. 

That is what voters chose.

Pundits today have spent time dissecting the election results, many trying to find the one tweak that would have changed the outcome, and suggesting sweeping solutions to the Democrats’ obvious inability to attract voters. There is no doubt that a key factor in voters’ swing to Trump is that they associated the inflation of the post-pandemic months with Biden and turned the incumbents out, a phenomenon seen all over the world.

There is also no doubt that both racism and sexism played an important role in Harris’s defeat. 

But my own conclusion is that both of those things were amplified by the flood of disinformation that has plagued the U.S. for years now. Russian political theorists called the construction of a virtual political reality through modern media “political technology.” They developed several techniques in this approach to politics, but the key was creating a false narrative in order to control public debate. These techniques perverted democracy, turning it from the concept of voters choosing their leaders into the concept of voters rubber-stamping the leaders they had been manipulated into backing. 

In the U.S., pervasive right-wing media, from the Fox News Channel through right-wing podcasts and YouTube channels run by influencers, have permitted Trump and right-wing influencers to portray the booming economy as “failing” and to run away from the hugely unpopular Project 2025. They allowed MAGA Republicans to portray a dramatically falling crime rate as a crime wave and immigration as an invasion. They also shielded its audience from the many statements of Trump’s former staff that he is unfit for office, and even that his chief of staff General John Kelly considers him a fascist and noted that he admires German Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler.

As actor Walter Masterson posted: “I tried to educate people about tariffs, I tried to explain that undocumented immigrants pay billions in taxes and are the foundation of this country. I explained Project 2025, I interviewed to show that they supported it. I can not compete against the propaganda machines of Twitter, Fox News, [Joe Rogan Experience], and NY Post. These spaces will continue to create reality unless we create a more effective way of reaching people.” 

X users noted a dramatic drop in their followers today, likely as bots, no longer necessary, disengaged. 

Many voters who were using their vote to make an economic statement are likely going to be surprised to discover what they have actually voted for. In his victory speech, Trump said the American people had given him an “unprecedented and powerful mandate.” 

White nationalist Nick Fuentes posted, “Your body, my choice. Forever,” and gloated that men will now legally control women’s bodies. His post got at least 22,000 “likes.” Right-wing influencer Benny Johnson, previously funded by Russia, posted: “It is my honor to inform you that Project 2025 was real the whole time.” 

Today, Trump campaign press secretary Karoline Leavitt said Trump would launch the “largest mass deportation operation” of undocumented immigrants, and the stock in private prison companies GEO Group and CoreCivic  jumped 41% and 29%, respectively. Those jumps were part of a bigger overall jump: the Dow Jones Industrial Average moved up 1,508 points in what Washington Post economic columnist Heather Long said was the largest post-election jump in more than 100 years. 

As for the lower prices Trump voters wanted, Kate Gibson of CBS today noted that on Monday, the National Retail Federation said that Trump’s proposed tariffs will cost American consumers between $46 billion and $78 billion a year as clothing, toys, furniture, appliances, and footwear all become more expensive. A $50 pair of running shoes, Gibson said, would retail for $59 to $64 under the new tariffs.

U.S. retailers are already preparing to raise prices of items from foreign suppliers, passing to consumers the cost of any future tariffs. 

Trump’s election will also mean he will no longer have to answer to the law for his federal indictments: special counsel Jack Smith is winding them down ahead of Trump’s inauguration. So he will not be tried for retaining classified documents or attempting to overthrow the U.S. government when he lost in 2020. 

This evening, Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán posted on social media that he had just spoken with Trump, and said: “We have big plans for the future!” 

This afternoon, Vice President Kamala Harris spoke at her alma mater, Howard University, to concede the election to Trump. 

She thanked her supporters, her family, the Bidens, the Walz family, and her campaign staff and volunteers. She reiterated that she believes Americans have far more in common than separating us.

In what appeared to be a message to Trump, she noted: “A fundamental principle of American democracy is that when we lose an election, we accept the results. That principle as much as any other distinguishes democracy from monarchy or tyranny, and anyone who seeks the public trust must honor it. At the same time in our nation, we owe loyalty not to a president or a party, but to the Constitution of the United States, and loyalty to our conscience and to our God. 

“My allegiance to all three is why I am here to say, while I concede this election, I do not concede the fight that fuels this campaign, the fight for freedom, for opportunity, for fairness and the dignity of all people, a fight for the ideals at the heart of our nation, the ideals that reflect America at our best. That is a fight I will never give up.”

Harris urged people “to organize, to mobilize and to stay engaged for the sake of freedom and justice and the future that we all know we can build together.” She told those feeling as if the world is dark indeed these days, to “fill the sky with the light of a billion brilliant stars, the light of optimism, of faith, of truth and service,” and to let “that work guide us, even in the face of setbacks, toward the extraordinary promise of the United States of America.” 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[rangersoup]

Thanks @annoyingcloudearthquake for tagging me! Edit: also thank you to @nisbanisba and @lemonlyman-dotcom who tagged me after I already posted 😂

Here’s a little blurb from my current WIP Turn and Burn:

TK rolls over in bed and reaches for Carlos, still half asleep, but his hand finds nothing but cold empty sheets. He groans and sits up in bed, flipping on the lamp sitting on the bedside table. It illuminates the room and the empty space in the bed next to him. The lamp isn’t the only thing bringing light into the room, there's a soft orange glow creeping through under the crack in the door. TK sighs and climbs out of bed to go retrieve his husband.

He finds his husband sitting on the couch, his legs crossed under him. There’s several papers strewn on the couch next to him. He has his glasses on and is looking through an old shoe box sitting in his lap. He looks up as TK makes his way across the room towards him.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“No,” TK shakes his head moving aside the papers and pictures to make room for himself on the couch next to Carlos. “I just woke up and didn’t know where you went.”

“Sorry,” Carlos mumbles, letting his shoulders slump.

“It’s okay,” TK says gently, and nestles onto the couch with him. He wraps himself around Carlos’s arm and leans his head against his shoulder. Carlos looks back down at the box in his lap.

“Is that you and Roja?” TK asks, reaching up to fiddle with Carlos’s curls, as he peaks over his shoulder at the picture he’s holding in his hands.

“Yeah,” Carlos says reverently, and hands the picture to TK.

TK finds himself looking at a much younger Carlos clinging to the back of the fiery red horse he’d seen earlier that day. They’re twisting around a blue and white barrel. There’s a shit eating grin on Carlos’s face, and he’s not sure if he’s ever seen a horse look so happy. It almost looks like she’s smiling. It’s a perfect moment frozen forever in time.

“You never told me you used to barrel race,” TK says, handing the picture back to him.

“It never really came up,” Carlos says with a little shrug, and returns the picture to the box. “And it was a long time ago.”

Tagging: @reyesstrand @hail-hawk-eye @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses @ironheartwriter @futures-tense @paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @mrs-corrections-78 and anyone else who wants to join in!!

[snowy-equinox]

Revisiting Rahdue's Wheel

Rahdue’s Wheel is a much-larger-than-average tarot spread that originated from Eileen Connolly’s 1987 book, Tarot: The Handbook for the Journeyman. It’s difficult to find detailed information outside of the book, as its size makes it unpopular among most tarot readers. Hell, Connolly herself needs 28 pages to explain it all. Rahdue’s Wheel shows up occasionally on Tumblr or Reddit, but its reputation has mostly become a kind of “Eat the Pig Trough and Get Your Picture on the Wall” for diviners. 

It’s when you get past the size that you start to realize the spread itself has some problems. 

Tackling the ‘Size’ Premise

Let’s get the premise out of the way: Rahdue’s Wheel does not use all 78 cards. When you look at the spread in detail, it’s broken down into 7 sections: 

Inner Wheel - Present

Center Wheel - Future

Outer Wheel - Past

Dagim Block - Past life

Taleh Pillar (right side) - Past life relationships

Shor Pillar (left side) - Past life memories/experiences

Malkuth Block - Answers the 9 questions you are supposed to have asked before the reading

The last section, the Malkuth Block, is optional. Even if you choose to use it, you may not pull the rest of your deck. Connolly says “Any cards that have not been used are left face down and are not to be read. They do not pertain to the reading and leaving them face down retains the original energy of the spread. If you turn them over, you break the esoteric structure of the entire spread.” At most, this spread requires 69 cards, not 78. 

The Popular Criticisms

While its gimmick is an exaggeration, it is still a behemoth of a spread. Many believe it is unwieldy and bogged down with too much information. This is a common criticism of larger spreads; the more information you pull, the easier it is to get lost. The continual energy drain of pulling, followed by the mental drain of interpreting, can leave you with inaccurate results.

However, this is assuming that you have to do your tarot readings in one sitting. I don’t hold with that idea. You can take on the Wheel in parts, doing a section a day for a week. Or, you can pull all the cards one day, write down what you got, and then do the interpreting the next day. Personally, I think if you have the time, dedication, and skill to parse through all the information, you should be able to get good information out of a large reading. 

The Information

In my opinion, Rahdue’s Wheel’s failure is not due to its size, but the quality of information it gives you.

While I approached this spread with the assumption that most people will read it for themselves, Connolly goes back and forth on the role of her readers. In most of the section dedicated to Rahdue’s Wheel, she talks exclusively about “the client”, implying she is writing for a professional tarot reader and the reading is meant to be between two people (reader & querent). However, at one point, she advises the reader to do the Rahdue’s Wheel for themself four times a year, and there are a couple of “for yourself or the client”’s sprinkled throughout the section. 

I bring this up because this spread is not very good if you’re reading for yourself. The three wheels are the exact same questions; the only thing that changes is the tense. I know what my current health concerns are, and likely I know what my past ones were. The entire past wheel is redundant, as you’re just reliving everything without added context or commentary. Pulling a Three of Swords for past relationships tells me a break-up really hurt me, but it doesn’t tell me how that’s still affecting me. There’s no new information given to the querent beyond “this is how your life and philosophies have changed”. 

The redundancy cuts both ways in the reader/querent question. If you read for yourself, you’re wasting time and energy on things you already know. On the other hand, if you’re reading for someone else, you’re not giving the querent new information that can solve their problems. If anything, it’s spiritual junk food; the reader gets to come off as intuitive and knowledgeable (assuming the cards are all accurate), while not giving any real advice. The querent will leave feeling fulfilled from their amazing connection with the reader without any new ideas on how to fix their situation. 

The Past Life Issue

The other issue that becomes apparent right away is the focus on past lives. The wheels total 39 cards, while the past life sections total 30. This makes the past lives sections nearly half of the spread. Connolly believes that our actions and mindsets are influenced by the hidden memories and traumas of our past lives. She rationalizes that knowing about these lives is a good way to look deeper into the querent’s psychology. This gives us context for the previous problem: The reason we’re looking at every aspect of a person’s life is to find patterns stemming from the past lives. If we find your past life was betrayed by a lover, we know the root cause of your commitment issues. The wheels and the past lives sections work together to illuminate the overarching themes of the querent’s karmic life. 

This creates multiple barriers in order to make this spread work: 

You must believe in past lives as a concept

You must believe you personally have at least one past life

You must believe that issues from your past life can affect your current life

If you have all three beliefs, then this spread can do amazing things for you! But many people don’t have all three. I can’t get past the third one myself; I think it’s possible to connect with and learn from your past lives, but I don’t think their traumas become ours. For many, they don’t have the necessary beliefs to bridge the gap between the two halves of the spread. 

Even if you do believe past lives can affect our current lives, this spread still runs into the problem we discussed earlier: there is no advice given. At best, the reader will probably say to do “past life work” before sending you on your way. Knowing where your issues stem from can be helpful, but the knowledge itself won’t change anything. Ultimately, to see change you need a direction to go in. This spread will not give that to you. 

Finally Answering the Questions

Let’s revisit the Malkuth Block, the tarot reading within the tarot reading. Once the diviner has exhausted themselves sorting through every facet of your lives (present and past), it’s time to actually answer those questions you had that brought you to a reader in the first place. Connolly leaves it up to the reader to determine how many cards should be pulled per question. As I mentioned earlier, she says not every card will be flipped over and read, but then she goes on to say that if the querent only has one question, you must read all 9 cards in the Block. She does not give an explanation for this; I assume something to do with the “esoteric structure” but who knows. 

At this point, you’re doing a basic tarot reading. Surprisingly, many tarot readers are able to do “here’s the answer to your question” readings without knowing every single thing about you. If you’re just trying to get questions answered, the majority of this spread is unnecessary. It’s also incredibly damaging; by putting the questions at the end of the marathon spread, you get to the important part of the reading when the diviner is exhausted. 

Conclusion

Rahdue’s Wheel works well for very specific situations, like when you want to do past life work and don’t know what to focus on. But for the average reader this spread is too bloated. Not only is the size too large for most people to read accurately in one sitting, but the information it gives you is useless. You’re better off finding a smaller spread. 

While some use Rahdue’s Wheel as practice, I think most people bookmark it purely as a challenge spread to do “some day”. But this spread does work if you use it within the beliefs and framework Connolly created it for. I would bet there are a lot of people out there looking for just this kind of spread to help them with their past lives. They’ve probably heard the name before, but pass over it because no one talks about it as a past life spread or a karmic spread. They only talk about it as “The Ultimate Spread”. It’s become clickbait, in tarot form.

[localhypnofruit]

Hey DST fans. Here are multiple paragraphs about WX-78 as a system because I cannot contain myself any longer.

When it comes to WX-78, there are three parts. WX (current host and protector), Woodrow (trauma holder and ex-host), and Waggy (caretaker?). WX and Woodrow are very hard to tell apart since they act very similarly and sometimes even blend together. Waggy acts the most different out of the three, but only shows up when the system (bodily and/or mentally) is running on empty and neither of the other two are around.

How to tell Woodrow apart from WX: Woodrow speaks with fewer robot terms than WX does. They still have a distaste for organic life but still calls things by their names (which includes survivors, though still calling them organic as an insult- Ex. "fleshling Wilson"). They also move less rigidly than WX despite the body not being fully accommodating for those types of movements. Woodrow also can occasionally be found sitting for long periods looking at themself or "brooding" due to thinking on/re-experiencing past events, and taking less care of the body than WX would. Some survivors even call them reckless or irresponsible for lacking "their" usual self-sufficiency. When it's just Woodrow piloting, they tend to have trouble seeing far-away things. Along with this, they can rarely be seen with a square light inside one of their usually empty eye sockets.

More about WX: WX is obviously more rigid in movement and (usually) speech. They use nicknames for animals and survivors in a typically demeaning way, and holds themself with pride over organic life. They think more on self-preservation than Woodrow. Though they do attempt to take care of themself, they often forget or don't do things they should for their pride. They're also capable of understanding what's best for the group better than the other two, even if they don't like caring for organics. WX also holds a fascination for the moon that Woodrow doesn't have.

Waggy... Not Exactly Wagstaff: Waggy shares a fascination with the moon like WX, but doesn't respond to the body's name. He typically goes off on his own endeavors, but has the most friendly demeanor compared to the other two. He's unaware of his own predicament and just winds up being curious about all that's around him and how he can benefit from it. Waggy takes the most care of the body to a selfish degree, even tricking others into giving him more than he needs. If the demeanor wasn't obvious enough, he causes the body's optics to form a large white pupil in one eye socket. This abnormal amount of light makes him practically blind to things not in front of his face. Thankfully, again, Waggy rarely shows himself unless there are specific circumstances with the system.

Memory Issues, Huh: None of these three are aware of being a system, nor do they know of each other's existence. The only way they'd figure that out is if another survivor were to point it out to them, and even then they likely wouldn't acknowledge it. Woodrow and WX share most of their memories with each other (aside from the ones of the past that Woodrow holds), so most gaps in memory are from when/if Waggy shows up- as Waggy shares no memories with the other two.

There are still plenty of thoughts I'm thinking about this but this post is already too long and this is just a general explanation of the system on its own.

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter X

Howlin’ For You

Today

Breasts.

Boobs.

Mammary Glands.

Jugs.

Boobies.

Tits. 

Fiery Biscuits.

Melons.

Baps.

Milkers.

Tatas.

Snuggle Pups.

The ‘girls’

Whatever one called them, here they were. Staring Azriel Night in the face. He could’ve thought of a few more names for them: ‘naughty pillows’, ‘honkers’, ‘knockers’, ‘the rack’...and on and on and on.

This pair was nice as fuck. He couldn’t deny it. 

The generously bosom-y blonde across from him was a beauty named Mor. And this Mor was a stunner. Big brown eyes, hair like molten gold, tits for days, childbearing hips, a nipped waist. 

He’d arrived early, yet she was already here, at a posh, faceless bar in the City. She wanted to go somewhere flashier, but Azriel didn’t want any more of his photos splashed across Daily Mail under the headline ‘Another One for Footie’s Bad Boy?’ so he chose this spot. It was filled with nervous and overly intense finance blokes, with an uneven ratio of 78% dicks to 22% pussy in attendance. If he didn’t know better he’d think this was a gay bar, but it wasn’t. It was a bar where ‘deals were made’ and no one paid attention to him. He was wearing a suit and easily passed for another manic finance bloke. 

Mor was on her third drink already, but she was holding her alcohol well, though Azriel suspected that might have a problem somewhere there. Currently he wasn’t training or playing due to his injury, but he still stuck with sparkling water as was his habit. Those big bazoongas shifted beneath her bright red dress and even a blind man would’ve felt the earth shift when she moved, but Azriel remained…uninterested.

Yes, in theory, she was tempting and attractive in every way. If this was three months ago, he probably would’ve been pounding her on the way back from the bar, giving Dev an eyeful. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

Alas, currently, not only did he not care about her tits whatsoever, he also kept thinking about the cool 20 Day Advent Calendar that he bought for Pinky, where there was a special treat behind every little daily slat. He was unhealthily excited about this Advent Calendar and kept imagining how excited Pink would be about it, and how he and Elain would open it daily to reveal treat-of-the-day. 

No tits were as desirable as the happiness of his dog. Besides, the only tits that were interesting to him, the only tits he wanted to touch and squeeze, the only tits he wanted to lick and bite, were Elain’s. Soft, ample, squishy titties–the only tits worth his time and attention. Whatever Mor was laying down, he sure as hell wasn’t picking up. The only reason he was here anyway, was because his ornery girlfriend demanded it and he was humouring her. A little bar talk with this loud woman was a small price to pay for having Elain in his arms through the night, making her accept him, slowly, but surely fall for him, submit…Yeah, it was worth it, even if he didn’t want to be here.

-

Five Days Ago

“You aren’t even that ill!” Elain protested.

Azriel offered a loud and very fake cough to demonstrate that he was indeed quite ill.

“I beg to differ,” he argued. “Are you really going to send a star athlete all the way to Canary Wharf, in the beginning of December? While he is half-dead from fever and has a broken leg?”

“Oh, now the leg is broken too?” Elain crossed her arms on her chest, shaking her head, looking at him. The good thing was that Pinky decided to take Azriel’s side, and now he sat by his side, working hard at giving Elain the biggest puppy dog eyes in history.

“You two are emotional vampires!” she declared, getting up from the table. 

“We are emotional puppies!” Azriel argued.

“You are a traitor,” Elain hissed at Piglet, who whimpered pathetically.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Azriel offered sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes and told him firmly, “you aren’t sleeping with me”.

“Umm,”

“No, don’t even think about it.”

“Where am I sleeping then?”

“In the guest room,” she said primly,

“Aren’t you planning to sleep with your husband in the same bed?” he queried.

“Yes. But you aren’t my husband.”

“But I will be,” he reminded her.

“Dream on, football boy,” she puffed her cheeks, while Azriel gathered the plates and hobbled with them to the sink. And then, he proceeded to wash the dishes like a good boy. It was silly, because obviously she had a dishwasher, but Azriel wanted to show how he would be a great husband-material, and how much potential he had in that department. 

Elain didn’t say anything, but quietly began putting things away after dinner. Pinky was laying there like a log, watching them closely, monitoring every move. 

Azriel was almost done with the washing up, when he stepped aside and suddenly pulled Elain to him, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Her breath quickened, but she didn't struggle in his hold. He pressed her into the counter and held her within the cage of his arms. 

Elain smelled delightful. A heady mix of jasmine, with light undertones of warm honey and vanilla. Her scent was exactly what she was in life–a flower-lover and a baker. It was a perfect mix of who she was.

Azriel inhaled her deeply and felt her shiver against him. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, savouring the moment. It was quiet, other than some instrumental Christmas music playing on Elain’s phone. So it made sense when Elain’s arms tentatively wrapped around Azriel’s waist and she pulled him a little closer.

“Why are you like that, my matchy?” he whispered.

“How am I?”

“Skittish. Afraid. You shouldn’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

She sighed sadly and whispered, “Others have said the same, and did, in fact, hurt me.”

“I am not ‘others’. I am it. I knew that I was fucked once I started wondering what your lips would taste like, and I am still wondering about that. I’ve been many different things in my life, and not all of them any good, but with you, it’s different.

“You smell like home. You feel like a wife. You act like the mother of my children. There is nothing I can do about that.”

“You fell hard,” she murmured.

“Surprised me too,” he chuckled, “but here we are.”

She took his hand in hers and looked at his scarred skin, absently rubbing the mangled flesh with her thumb. At that, it was Azriel’s turn to squirm a bit. He didn’t like close attention being paid to his hands.

But, all she did was whisper ‘beautiful’ and Azriel didn’t know what to do with that. So he blushed. Because it wasn’t something he expected, and coming from her, he knew that it was the truth. She found his hands beautiful.

She then took him by the hand and gently pulled him behind her, sneaking from under his arm. 

“Gonna put me to bed, beautiful?” he chuckled.

“Don’t push it,” she warned playfully.

They went upstairs, Azriel being on his best behaviour, careful not to spook her and have her send him back down to sleep on the couch.

Elain’s upstairs wasn’t any less luxurious and stylish than the downstairs. The landing had built-in bookshelves and a loveseat and apparently Pinky’s own swanky pad, with a vast doggy bed and various cushions upon which he could ‘relax’ (not that his life was very hard and required much relaxation). In addition, part of the built-ins contained all his outfits, his toys, and bows. He had more clothes than Kim K.

“You are here,” Elain opened the door to one of the bedrooms. It was modern, comfortable, like a world-class hotel room. But impersonal.

“There is an en-suite,” Elain waved her hand to another door.

“And where are you?” Azriel asked immediately.

She gave him a look, but said “at the end of the hall. Should you require anything, knock and let me know.”

Then, after a beat, she added, “And since you sleep in the nude, please don’t forget to cover yourself.”

Azriel smirked and gently cupped the side of her neck, drawing his thumb over the tender skin of her throat.

“So you remembered then?”

Primly, as if they were discussing cottage cheese, she said, “it’s my job. I pride myself in remembering what my clients tell me.”

“Ahhh,” he nodded slowly, with a knowing look on his face. “And for no other reason I am sure, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then, Ms. Archeron,” he pressed his lips to her forehead and gave her a soft, loving kiss, “good night. And if I do need anything, I will remember to cover my massive cock,”

“Ahh,” she gasped and he laughed, giving her another quick kiss.

She pushed at him, pretending to be oh-so scandalised, but there was no fire in her protests.

“Stop kissing me!”

“That’s a hard no from me,” he shrugged. “I only intend to kiss you more.”

“Why are you like this?”

“What? Charming? Sexy? Smart?”

“Yeah, all of the above,” she snorted. “Don’t you ever take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“Not really,” he confessed. “Definitely not this time around.”

“Why not?” she asked quietly, looking straight at him.

He licked his lip and then stated simply,

“Because you are mine.”

-

Today

“Three million.”

Azriel was so lost in thought, especially recalling how that night five days ago went, that he didn’t catch anything that Mor was saying to him. Not until he heard ‘three million’.

“Pardon?” he finally asked.

“I think that’s a reasonable sum,” she decided, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

“For what?”

“Us!”

“Us? Us what?” his brow furrowed and he had no idea what she was referring to.

“That’s the exchange,” she pushed, leaning across the table towards him, and letting her boobs slide forward, the material of her dress barely containing them. Gosh, she was trying hard.

“Miss Hewn, lay it all out,” he all but snapped at her. “What do you want?”

“It’s what you want,” she corrected him and brought her martini glass to her bright red lips. An espresso martini, no less. What a revolting 80s drink that no self-respecting person would ever touch. But Azriel chose to keep his opinion to himself. Mor wasn’t Elain. He could tease Elain. She’d answer, she’d taunt him back. It would be wonderful. But he didn’t need to worry about Elain–she was a whiskey and lager and gin girl. Proper drinks. Classic. None of this frou-frou nonsense. He had no opinion on Mor because he didn’t give a shit.

“What am I exchanging for three mil?” he queried, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning back in his chair.

She mimicked his posture, and said in a firm, bland tone,

“A little birdy told me that if you don’t marry by the time you are thirty, you lose your chance at your inheritance…and I hear it’s over 200 mil. Lord Darling is worth what? About two billion? 10% of his wealth goes to his two adopted sons–you and your brother Cassian. Am I not correct?”

“You are alarmingly well-informed about Lord Darling’s finances,”

She shrugged and said with false innocence in her voice, “all public knowledge, Azriel. And I am a girl who does her research.”

Another one. 

Another girl who was doing her due diligence. But unlike Elain, whose intentions were honourable and even a little naive, Mor seemed much more predatory. Her big eyes gleamed with excitement.

“So, if I am understanding you correctly,” Azriel sipped his sparkling water, wondering how long he had to stay here for, “you want me to pay you three million pounds,”

“Correct,” she nodded.

“For what exactly?”

“To marry you, of course, silly!” she smiled at him and winked.

“Oh…”

“Two years? Three?” she shrugged irreverently and finished her gross martini, while immediately motioning to the waiter for another drink.

The balls on her were…impressive.

If Azriel wasn’t so internally disgusted, he would’ve been awed. 

But he was mostly grossed out.

“We marry, we stay together for a couple of years,” Mor continued easily. “I get my three million. You get your 200 million and then we part amicably. What do Americans call it? Irreconcilable differences. We wouldn’t be able to reconcile our differences too. I’ll even sign a prenup, and won’t ask for any spousal support or any bit of your money,”

“Generous of you,” he said dryly. “So this has been the plan from the beginning, I am guessing?

She shrugged innocently.

“I go where the money is.”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “You know all about how much I make too?”

Her red-tipped fingers gently caressed his hand, but in a condescending sort of way, like she was taming a wild animal.

“Of course I do, darling,” she smiled at him. “Of course, I do. 115 million contract with Arsenal over 5 years. Multiple multi-million pound endorsement contracts with big name companies–Adidas, Apple, Bank of England come to mind. Oh, Smart Water. Oh, oh,” she snapped her fingers, “a deal with that shaving company…You looked good in those adverts. All damp and half-naked, water dripping off of you,”

Azriel barely managed not to roll his eyes.

“How did you get through Elain’s rigorous screening?” he interrupted her litany, speaking frankly and not giving a fuck. He was past being Mr. Nice Guy or even Mr. Pretend to Be a Nice Guy for the Evening. He was going to be the dickhead that he usually was.

Mor laughed lightly and accepted another weird concoction from the waiter–a Lemon Drop, apparently. What was with this woman and her 80s drinks? They weren’t even classics. Just gaudy. 

“Ohhh,” Mor did a sing-song thing with her voice. “Elain…Lady Elain Archeron, the 7th Marchioness of Londonfair, sister to Nesta, the Duchess of Velaris and to Countess Feyre Archeron. 

“See, Azriel, I do my research on everyone. Did you know that the Duke of Velaris petitioned Queen Victoria some time around 1894 to have all the females in his family receive titles. Just the females, the same way the males would. And the titles are passed on to women in that family. Interestingly, the old Queen wasn’t exactly a feminist. In fact, she was sternly opposed to feminism and felt that women should obey and serve their men. Wonder what the Duke had to do to convince her? But whatever he did, apparently worked. 

“The sisters’ mother was the Duchess of Velaris. Nesta was the Marchioness. Elain, a Countess. Feyre, a Viscountess. Once the mother died, the titles shifted to each respective sister. Interesting, isn’t it?

“You know how much they are worth?”

“No,” Azriel snapped. “I don’t, and I don’t care.”

“Pity. It is curious that Lady Elain has this strange profession. Very odd, don’t you think? A matchmaker.”

“She wants to bring happiness to others,” he said. “Love.”

Mor scoffed,

“Love. Yes, love. It’s adorable that you bought into her fantasy.”

“Her track record is impeccable,” he argued roughly.

“Oh,” Mor waved her hand, “I am not arguing, I know she is good at what she does. Poor lonely souls flock to her in hopes for their happily ever after.”

“And you didn’t?” he challenged. Dark, angry, cold rage was rising up in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. His own personal feelings aside, Elain was good. She believed in what she did. She was kind and thoughtful and careful with the feelings of others. She did want people to find their partners, and their happily ever after. Of that, he had no doubt. Therefore, anyone taking advantage of her sincerity and her beliefs made him see red.

“I did flock too,” Mor confirmed, almost chugging her Lemon Drop in one go and motioning for the waiter yet again. Jesus fuck. “Just not for love,” she continued. “It wasn’t exactly difficult to build up a story that Elain wanted to hear. My very unsuccessful first engagement, then a string of men who didn’t turn into anything serious, disappointments and my ‘yearning for love’,” she made air quotes. “The poor silly cow fell for it just like that,” she snapped her fingers. 

At that, Azriel flinched, but Mor didn’t notice it. Instead, she ordered ‘Sex On the Beach’ and he almost died of embarrassment. When the kids on the team told him that they ‘died of cringe’ he now understood what they meant. 

“If you know where to look, you’d find out that Lady Elain abruptly ended her engagement to Lord Nolan a few years back. I figured that he stepped out on her, and it turns out that I was correct. So I played that up to her, telling her that my fiance did the same. She was so easy,” Mor sighed dramatically. “I mean, what was I expecting? This is a woman who dotes on her lame legless pug and,”

“Pardon,” Azriel stood up abruptly and muttered, “I need to go to the loo,”

“Oh, alright then,” Mor nodded. “When you come back, we’ll discuss the details of the arrangement.”

Apparently, in her mind, everything’s been settled already.

Azriel left his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, but he figured it would be a small price to pay to escape. He veered off the path to the toilets and passed by the long, glass-covered bar, where he spotted Dev, who was sipping mineral water. Azriel motioned his head to the driver, and Dev got up promptly, his expression perplexed. His eyes darted from Azriel to Mor’s golden-haired head which loomed over the table.

Azriel came over and grabbed his driver’s arm, quickly ushering him towards the exit.

“Are you doing a runner?” Dev guessed, grinning at the panicked looking Azriel.

“Sure am!”

“Wait, so you pumped and dumped,”

“No pumping,” Azriel quickly, shuddering visibly, “only dumping.”

“You really gonna ghost her like that?”

“Honestly, it’s not my proudest moment, but I am afraid she is going to charge me for leaving. A tenner at least.”

Dev chuckled, and nodded towards Azriel’s lack of jacket,

“You’ll freeze your bollocks off,”

“Small price to pay to escape Miss Golden Arm over there. She really started the conversation with ‘you pay me three million and then I will marry you’.”

“Shit. For real?” 

“Sure am. She is a thirsty one. Not for cock, but for a buck.”

Dev laughed and said, “Alright then, mate, let’s go. I’ll save you.”

Azriel tossed two hundred pounds to the barman and said, “For the lady’s drinks,” he pointed towards Mor. “And make sure she doesn’t drive. She’s had one, or ten, too many.”

By the time he slipped out of the bar, took the lift downstairs and came outside, to the frigid night, Dev was pulling the car around the corner. 

Azriel all but collapsed into the warm cabin and rubbed his hands.

“Told you you’ll freeze,” Dev told him.

“What did you want me to do exactly?”

“Never seen you walk away like that from a woman before,” Dev commented, while he pulled away from the curb.

“Ehhh,” Azriel looked out the window, watching the sleek streets decorated for Christmas. “I wasn’t into it.”

“Uh-uh,” Dev only muttered, with a knowing look on his face. “Where to then? Canary Wharf or Russell Square?”

Azriel shot him a glance in the mirror, and Dev continued lightly, “I wasn’t planning on being done with the evening by,” he glanced at the clock, “7:08 pm. But here we are. So, where are we going? Home? Or where you wanna be?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel demanded.

The driver huffed and snickered. 

“Come on, Az. I’ve known you for 20 years. Known you since we were lads.”

“So?”

“Seen you with all kinds of birds, and here we are tonight, and I am watching you walk away from Miss Busty without a second thought. And I can see you itching to go back to that posh neighbourhood and see your posh lass and her mega posh pug. Tell me I am wrong?”

Azriel rubbed his chin and looked back at the window.

“Russell Square,” was all he said.

Dev smiled widely.

“On my fucking way, lad.”

Because yes, Azriel wanted to be with his woman. And wanted a repeat of the night from five days ago.

-

Five Days Ago

Five nights ago, Azriel did not keep true to his word.

Well, technically, he didn’t promise to stay in his room. He didn’t promise to stop kissing Elain. He didn’t promise anything, other than to cover his cock if he went to her room. And he did. 

He covered his cock.

He wore his boxers, to be precise. 

He settled for the night–or at least for the immediate couple of hours–but as soon as the door closed, he heard scratching and banging, growling and barking. 

“Piglet no!” came Elain’s urgent pleas. “Az is going to sleep. So should you. Go to your bed. Right now!”

Instead, there was snapping and more growling.

“Piglet, no. You had chicken and rice, you took a nice walk, you played with Az, and it’s time to call it a night. Go to bed.”

There was a pause, and then more aggressive banging on the door, which Azriel hoped wasn’t Pinky ramming his head into it. 

“I swear to god, Piglet Pinky Archeron,” Elain exclaimed sternly and Azriel just about fell off the bed, at the sound of the middle name,

Piglet Pinky Archeron Night. Thank you very much.

“I am going to take you to the vet!”

A shocked, horrified whimper was the answer.

That was a hella threat then.

And then Piglet started crying and Azriel couldn't take it anymore. He got out of bed and threw the door open. With that, Piglet in turn threw himself in his arms like the floor was lava. Azriel wrapped his arms around him and whispered, “It’s okay, my boy. It’s okay. I am not going to send you to the vet,” he glanced at Elain, meaning to give her the stink eye, and only to notice her shocked expression.

Oh yeah…he was naked, other than for his underwear. 

“Ummm,” she mumbled…”I…well, I…if he…you know he is quite loud if you want him to sleep in the room,” she rambled on, as her eyes darted here and then, trying to avoid the sight of his naked flesh. 

That’s right, sweetheart. Keep looking. 

“I am dressed,” Azriel pointed out with a smirk.

“I…I,” she huffed, swiping her hand over her brow, “I wouldn’t call this ‘dressed’ Mr. Azriel…”

“Mr. Azriel?” Azriel teased. “What happened to Mr. Night?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Mr. Night!” Elain nodded frantically, “that’s what I meant, of course. Naturally. Mr. Azriel.”

He kept staring at her, smiling, while she muttered, “Mr. Night!”

Then he shrugged and told her, “I rather like hearing my name on your lips, beautiful. ‘Azriel’ me all you want. Come on in then,” he jerked his head, inviting her in.

“Come where?” she baulked.

“To my comfy bed, obviously,” he explained like she was a bit stupid. “It’s only nine o'clock. According to the Daily Mail I am a ‘debauched footballer’--so what the fuck am I doing in bed at this hour? It’s fine for Pink, but you and I can spend some quality time together,”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she kept muttering, while he grabbed her hand and tugged her along.

“Don’t worry little virgin,” he assured her, “I’ll leave your virtue intact, if that’s what you’d like,”

“I am not a virgin!” she hissed at him and he laughed and then the three of them piled onto the bed, under his significant bulk and strength.

But first things first…

He got her in bed with him, which was a massive accomplishment. Took two months, but here they were. Now, he needed a minute to wrap his mind around the fact that Elain Archeron, his Elain, was in bed with him. Thankfully, Pinky offered him that opportunity, when he jumped off the bed, screamed excitedly, and then began running frantic circles around the room.

Watching the pug’s antics, Elain laughed and whispered, “major case of the zoomies.”

“For the laziest dog, he sure does pack a lot of energy,” Azriel commented, carefully arranging himself next to her, trying to be inconspicuous, like this was normal for them.

Nothing was normal.

None of this was normal.

Even the fact that Elain was barefoot, and he was seeing her pretty toes for the first time, had Azriel spiralling internally. She was usually formally dressed, and when he did catch her in casual attire, it was strange enough. But Elain barefoot? Her toenails were painted a light pearl colour and he couldn’t stop staring at them. He couldn’t stop staring at the difference in their sizes: at how much bigger he was than her. He was a big man, but her little pale feet seemed almost childish next to his large, beat up, calloused ones. His muscular legs reached almost to the edge of the bed, and he looked rough and wild compared to her, his skin a deep golden brown, tattoos peppering his body here and there, all the sinewy tight muscles bulging and shifting beneath his bruised, scarred, scratched skin. She was soft and creamy, pale and resembled a marshmallow or a cream puff. He resembled a gnarly log. 

He extended his arm and Elain naturally leaned into the crook, laying her head on his shoulder. 

She wore grey pyjama pants with pugs on them (obviously), and a red Arsenal t-shirt, with Azriel’s own number. Like a proper girlfriend should. Though it made his chest warm and everything inside of him squeezed with strange wormy happiness, because this wasn’t the jersey that he gave her. This was a different shirt, which she clearly bought for herself, and now wore to bed.

There was nothing sexy or alluring about her mismatched night outfit, but to Azriel, it was somehow perfect. Undoubtedly, the ensemble that she had on earlier–the shorts, the knee highs, and the jumper–was Pinterest-worthy in its enticing sexiness, and nothing beat half of her ass falling out of those shorts. 

But this was good. Like it should be. 

He rested his chin atop of her head and then she reached across him and tugged a blanket on top of his body.

“You’ll grow cold and will never get better,” she complained.

“Is my naked body messing with your little ladyship sensibilities?” he teased. “What’s it like with Lord Eris? Brace yourself, Sally, and think of England?”

“I hate you so much,” she said flatly, shaking her head with disdain.

“No, matchy. You like me,” he said assertively. 

She tensed a little against him, but he only stroked her shoulder lightly, keeping her in place.

Piglet finally tired out from his zooming and attempted to climb back on the bed, but he couldn’t reach that high up, so he began whimpering frantically, now wanting as much attention as possible and fearing that he was missing out.

Azriell scooped him up with his available hand and placed him at his side.

“You can stay here, but you are not Beyonce, so no one will be entertaining you. Calm down and go to sleep. It’s me and Ellie time.”

Piglet pouted at him, but then burrowed himself in the blanket and quieted down. 

“Try to keep the farting to a minimum,” Azriel warned, but Piglet only snorted at him.

Azriel draped the rest of the blanket over Elain, and then boldly grabbed her hip and hoisted her leg up and over his own.

There was a moment there, where they just looked at each other, their bodies connected, the intimacy of the moment almost stifling.

It was then that Elain asked,

“What do you want, Azriel? From me?”

He looked at her, studying the lovely contours of her face, and after a long pause, said,

“I want everything from you. I want you in the worst way. I need your taste. Your scent. I want to know what your skin would feel next to mine. I want to crawl so deep inside of you, that you won’t be able to extricate yourself from me ever. Not ever. Not with a spoon. Not with an axe. Not with a prayer. Not with a saw. And I want it all tonight. I want it every minute of the day. And I know that I can’t have it. So I yearn and desire, and I suffer, because I cannot have it. I cannot have you.”

“It’s a violent image,” she whispered at last, watching him in awe. “Your love is possessive, and nearly scary.”

“Nearly,” he agreed, “but not quite. I simply didn’t know that I could feel this way about anything. About anyone.”

“Are you going to start spouting poetry?” she smiled and lightly traced her finger over his jaw.

“I usually don’t need to resort to that,” he chuckled. “But if you’d like me to give you a little speech about how you’d bewitched me, body and soul, I could do that.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve read Pride and Prejudice!” she gasped in shock.

Azriel laughed quietly, “Fuck no! But I’ve seen enough gifs from the movie to remember that line.”

“I love that movie,” Elain admitted dreamily.

“Absolutely no surprise there,” Azriel concluded. 

He then pulled her closer and slipped his arm lower, so he could cup her lovely ass, and when he did, she didn’t even fight him. That’s my girl, he thought. 

“What should I get Pinky for Christmas?” he pondered, as he glanced at the sleeping pug.

“I don’t think that he cares all that much,” Elain admitted, while her little finger kept making circles on his skin, travelling from his neck, down to his shoulder and chest, as she traced the lines of his tattoos.

“Come on, of course he does! I do too. What should I get him?”

“Well,” she thought, “the things he likes the most are: empty Amazon envelopes, the padded ones. Socks. You can get him an old shoe. A stick, of course. He likes a good stick. Any kind of hose that he can tear up–pantyhose are his fave. An empty box. And of course the thing that he loves the most in the world is,” then her voice dropped to a whisper and she said into Azriel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “meatloaf.”

Even though Elain was whispering, the magical word still caused Piglet to stir sleepily. He waited for a moment, before falling back asleep.

“See?”

“Wow, he really must love it,” Azriel barely contained himself, stifling his laughter. “I guess I know what we are having for Christmas!”

The next hour and a half were spent in blissful warmth. Azriel took out his phone, and they proceeded to watch a bunch of comedians on Netflix. They laughed at the same jokes, and Azriel found it endearing.

“I think we need to get a tree,” Azriel decided at some point. “I would’ve thought that you’d be completely Christmas-obsessed and everything would be covered in Christmas spirit. Kind of like in ‘Elf’.”

Elain sighed and frowned.

“What?” he pushed, stroking her head.

“I didn’t feel like it this year, I guess,” she said lamely.

“Why?”

“I dunno…”

“Come on. Tell me.”

“I am not feeling festive, I suppose.”

The vague admission didn’t sit right with him and he turned her face up, so he could look at her.

“What happened?”

She bit her lip and sighed,

“I don’t know…I guess I didn’t see myself in this place, under these circumstances, at this stage of my life,”

“What circumstances?”

“Single, I suppose,” she sighed again. “I figured that by 28, I’d be married, maybe even with children. For sure with someone significant in my life. Now I'll be 28 in less than two weeks, and I guess I just broke up with my long-term boyfriend? I am not even certain where we stand with him. And then there is you, and you are all kinds of confusing,”

“I am not confusing,” he argued. “I am your boyfriend. I don’t really care that you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge this yet, but I am. You ain’t single. You are mine. And if you want me to put a ring on your finger on your birthday, I will, if it will make you happy,”

Elain elbowed him harshly and snapped, “Stop talking like that! We barely know each other! We,”

“We know each other plenty. What don’t I know about you and you don’t know about me? Short of an anal probe, you’ve asked me every question imaginable. You know what I like to eat, where I grew up, how I fuck, what I wear, where I live, and I know that you love your pug, and your sisters, and that sometimes you are lonely, and that you love watching couples that you set up end up married and happy, and you’ve been hurt in love, and you love apple crisps and are sweetly rough around the edges despite being a Lady.”

“I don’t know how you…fuck,” she cleared her throat.

“I can certainly show you that right now,” he offered. “I’ve been ready to fuck you since you’ve been eyeing my happy trail the day we decorated for Halloween,”

“WHAT!!!!” she cried out. “I was not!”

“Sure were, baby, sure you were,” he teased and squeezed her ass cheek hard, “you think I didn’t notice? You think I didn’t let you watch for as long as you wanted?”

“Oh my god, you are horrible!” she smacked his bare chest. “I wasn’t. It was just there. Your stomach! You were showing it to me,”

“Uh-uh. Anyways. This Christmas will be brilliant, for you and for me. A new start, a new beginning,”

“Beginning of what?” she asked timidly, her expression hopeful and eager. She liked what he was telling her.

“Us, Elain Archeron. Us. Argue all you want, but I ain’t letting you go. And I am taking Pinky to get us a tree!”

He drove the point home by reaching and cupping her breast. He squeezed it tightly, bouncing it within his palm. It didn’t escape him that Elain wasn’t wearing a bra under the t-shirt, and her soft full tits have been rolling around all evening long next to him and driving him crazy. 

She squeaked in surprise, and attempted to throw his hand off, but once he brushed his thumb over her nipple, she stilled and her breathing hitched audibly.

“You want me to show you how I fuck?” he asked quietly, swiping his thumb over the hardening nipple. 

“You promised,” she protested breathlessly. “You said you won’t pressu-,”

“I did,” he nodded. “I did. But let me promise something else now then,”

“What?”

“I will fuck you, Ellie. And you are going to love it. And you’ll ask for more.”

-

When Azriel was 9 years old, he stole an eclair from a bakery. His class was some kind of class trip to the theatre. They were brought to Covent Garden and he walked around there, eyes wide open, his mind blown. He’d never been to a place more exciting, or beautiful, or wealthy. All he knew were hospitals, drab council estates, and his football, which he often played on concrete. He gawked at the shops, all the restaurants and pubs, and the bakeries. Gorgeous displays of wonderful things everywhere. 

Azriel always had quick, sticky fingers, and though he didn’t like thieving, sometimes, it was necessary. Basic necessities were hard to come by, and when he could, he stole–socks and belts, toothpaste, combs, tissues, candy. He made it a point not to steal for no reason, and not get in trouble needlessly, over something trivial. 

That day, they passed by some French sounding bakery–it was all gleaming marble, and outlandish displays of croissants and pastries, cakes and tarts, and rich people drinking coffee and buying bread. Nine quid for a loaf of bread. Outrageous!

But there were two types of eclairs that he couldn’t tear his eyes from. One covered in a chocolate glaze, and another sprinkled with hazelnuts and decorated with cream roses. He couldn’t stop looking at them–two girthy decadent stunners that called his name. All he wanted was to sink his teeth into one. Or both. 

So he went for it. He pinched them. Wasn’t difficult. He was small and no one paid any attention to him. Besides, even if someone did notice him, they’d assume he was here with a parent. It took a minute, tops. In and out, and two eclairs were nestled in a paper bag, and then in his school bag. Later that night, he and Cassian snuck out, and ate the eclairs sitting on the crumbling stoop of a building. 

Up until tonight, Azriel Night had never tasted anything better than those eclairs. Never did anything more sumptuous, sinful and blissfully delicious pass his lips. Never.

Not until he sunk his teeth into Elain’s soft, delicate neck. 

In his defence, the scent of her hair, her body, the mix of honey and jasmine and vanilla made him dream of those delectable pastries. And somehow, his lips found their way to her cheek, and then, to her gorgeous neck. His mouth travelled the length of her throat, placing hungry, hot, desperate kisses on the lightly perfumed, warm skin. 

Elain moved and moaned softly beneath him, and he woke up fully, feeling her luscious breasts splayed beneath his chest, her small, firm hand gripping his bicep sleepily. He wasn’t sure if she was awake or if she was also dreaming. But once he started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled, while he kissed over the trembling pulse point, the hot pumping of blood erratic and needy beneath his lips. He licked her vein, before kissing gently below the ear, only to return to the neck, and cover it in more kisses, peppering it with small bites. 

Elain’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in the darkness. 

He wouldn’t have it. Didn’t want any arguments or debates about this. Gripping her chin firmly with his fingers, he turned her head to the side, allowing him all the access he needed to her neck. 

“Shhh,” he shushed her. “Let me have this…”

Her nails dug into his skin, but she didn’t fight him that moment. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply, back arching sexily and a needy little moan escaped her lips. He kissed her deeper, and his hand slipped back to her breast, which he covered with his palm. God she was soft. Soft and smooth and delicious in every way. And as his teeth and lips dug deeper into her skin and he sucked on her mercilessly, while realising that nothing compared to her in any way. She was his. That fluttering little heart beat for him.

He squeezed her breast harder, his fingers closing on the nipple, as he twisted it between his fingers, pinching it hard enough for her to gasp loudly. 

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, “oh god,” because he pulled and pinched her nipple again, causing her to shudder next to him from both pain, but also pleasure. 

Azriel figured that she hadn’t experienced true pleasure in a long time now. He was going to fix that. 

“Enough,” she moaned at last and pushed him away slightly. “Not yet…”

“Okay,” he said quietly and pulled away from her neck. Flipping on his back, he covered his eyes with his forearm and willed himself to calm down. Elain was panting next to him.

When he glanced at her, her hair was a mess, her lips were parted, and she was holding her breast, while a bruise bloomed on her neck.

“Shit,” he whispered, rubbing his face. “I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She was silent, staring at the ceiling.

“Ellie, I am sorry,” he muttered worriedly, “forgive me. I am sorry, I overestimated my,”

“It felt good,” she said suddenly. 

“Oh. Well, that’s good, right? I thought that I was too,”

“Rough? Yes. But you warned me about that,”

“And…is that okay?”

She thought about it and said, “No one’s ever been like that with me. You are different,”

“I should hope so!”

“You are so heavy,” she commented, “I love your weight. You are solid and so muscular,”

Amused he repeated, “That’s what you like? My weight?”

She pressed her fingers to her neck, “You bit me.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” he whispered sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to,”

“I think that you did. You marked me. I can feel the imprint of your teeth.”

Maybe he did mark her. 

He bit her like a savage. Like an animal in heat during mating.

He’d never bit anyone like that before. 

And he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

So he didn’t explain or say anything further. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, parking her curvy ass in the cradle of his hips. It seemed that she waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t, she tucked her hands beneath her cheek and settled in, with him holding her in his arms. 

-

It was Piglet who nosed into Azriel’s neck, huffing and snorting, clawing at him lightly.

It was barely light outside, but that was to be expected. December in London wasn’t exactly full of sunshine and blue skies.

“He needs to go poop,” Elain groaned sleepily, though she made no effort to open her eyes and only snuggled closer to Azriel. 

He smiled and patted her butt, before kissing her head and sitting up.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll take him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, surprised.

“I am sure. Take a break. I’ll pick up his turds, no problem.”

She snorted a laugh and then turned away and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Azriel climbed over her–totally unnecessarily–and made sure to sit on her for a second too, while she screeched and tried to swat him away.

“I thought you loved my weight?” he reminded her with a laugh.

“Not this much!” she yelled, and slapped his thigh. “Ohmygod, you are almost naked!”

“Sure am, baby. Nothing but a thin piece of cotton that’s standing between you and my cock n’ balls.”

“It’s too early for your sex talk,” she complained.

“Sweetness, when we are married, be prepared for some morning sex.”

“It’s especially too early for your marriage talk.”

“Never!”

“Make sure to put a coat and a hat on him,”

Azriel picked Pinky up and muttered under his breath, “You do remember that he is a descendant of wolves?! Now he eats fuckin’ meatloaf and wears a hat to go outside.”

At the word ‘meatloaf’ Piglet howled happily. 

“That’s for Christmas,” Azriel promised him.

Leaving Elain to snooze, Azriel picked up his clothes, and then found a bathroom in the hallway. It was right across from Elain’s bedroom, where he didn’t dare go yet, but he figured that that’s the one she used for herself. When he entered, he was proven correct. It was the prettiest bathroom imaginable–with a gorgeous view outside, no less. As with everything in this house, it was a perfect combination of modern and classic, tiled simply with white tiles, it also had a modern tub, and a glass shower. 

He already imagined their babies splashing in the tub and him fucking Elain in the shower. 

Yeah, he always had a vivid imagination. 

He looked around, snooping through the cupboards and cabinets. Elain had a moderate amount of products for her hair, only a couple of body lotions, which he sniffed, perfume–custom made, which explained her unique scent–period pads and tampons (he noted the brands, so he could buy them for his own place), same for toothpaste (they used the same one) and finally, he opened the medicine cabinet. No prescription drugs. Just a few utilitarian things and that’s about it, other than the flat disc, which he was pretty familiar with. He took it out and opened it. Low dosage birth control pills. He tsked, seeing as Elain wasn’t very careful about taking them. He figured that she probably didn’t care, since her ginger prick wasn’t here, but that also pleased him because she definitely wasn’t fucking anyone right now. 

As he wrestled with Piglet, who was ready for a bath apparently, Azriel considered what to do. He found a pack of toothbrushes, brushed his teeth, noting that he was looking better than yesterday, combed his hair, and then slipped the birth control pills into the backpocket of his joggers. 

No need for these anymore, sweetheart.

Did he feel bad about messing with Elain’s birth control–not really. 

He just stole it. 

At least he didn’t replace the pills with sugar pills, which he briefly considered.

He wasn’t a good man, and he never pretended to be one. 

But he wanted his cum to fall in fertile ground, when the time came for that. Ellie didn’t need any birth control.

-

By the time he and Pinky returned from their walk, Azriel carrying two cups of coffee and a bag with pastries, Elain was up. 

For a moment, he worried that she was going to question him about the pills, but she didn’t say anything, only laughing at Pinky’s ridiculous outfit. It was some kind of knit poncho with a hat attached to it. He looked like an idiot, but Azriel loved it, and so did Elain apparently.

“I love walking with him,” Azriel announced, setting breakfast on the counter. “No one pays attention to me. Everyone is only interested in him. Someone even asked him if I was his new dogwalker!”

Elain burst out laughing, while Piglet began zooming around the first floor and Azriel sat down across from her.

“I have a proposal,” she said at last, lacing her fingers together, as she stared him down.

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back.

“Oh god. I am not in the mood for proposals. Unless you are being a modern woman and asking me to marry you. Then, it’s a yes.”

“Well, no.”

“Figures.”

“But it is connected to marriage.”

He sipped his coffee and then said dejectedly, “What now, beautiful? You better make it good.”

“I promise to go out with you,” she announced grandly, and he laughed.

“Isn’t it a little too late for that? Considering that I am sleeping in your bed now?”

“No. Proper dating,” she insisted. “Like if you are my boyfriend,”

“I am your boyfriend,” he reminded her. 

“Can you listen to me!” she snapped, and he rubbed the back of his neck before finally saying, “fine. What do you want?”

“You agree to go out with two more candidates,”

Shaking his head violently, he said, “no, no, no. No way. I am done with all that.”

“You’ve gone on ONE DATE!!!”

“No,” he corrected. “I’ve gone on three dates, with one person.”

“Exactly!” she did not relent. “With one person. That’s not enough. Nuala is one candidate. You must go on at least two more.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I am happy where I am at–with you.”

“Mr. Night,” she began, but he waved his hand,

“Fuck off with the Mr. Night, beautiful. We are done with all that. And I am done with the matchmaking. I am matched already.”

“Do you take pride in your work?” she asked seriously.

“Obviously.”

“And just because you are friends with someone from an opposing team, would it stop you from scoring against them?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, consider me your opponent.”

“That’s not even remotely the same. Your comparison is absolute shite. You aren’t my opponent. And I am not scoring against you. I wanna score with you.”

“Two people! Is that so much to ask? If it doesn’t work out, then we know that this is real,”

“I already know that this is real. I don’t need to go on dates with random lasses to know that I’d come back to you.”

“What if you are infatuated?”

“I am infatuated. But it’s much more than that. Also, why am I gonna waste time on courting others, when I have work to do with you. You are still all shifty and weird with me.”

“Because you are my client!” she exclaimed with exasperation. “This isn’t something I’ve ever even considered doing! Let alone actually…doing it.

“And I need to know for myself that this is right for us. For me. I have to know that I am not selfishly shortchanging you.”

“You aren’t,” he insisted. “But if I must, I will go out with two more matches. No more,” he warned her sternly. “No more, Elain. I am not kidding,”

“I understand.”

“If it doesn’t work out–which it won’t–I am done and done, and I am dating you. That’s it.”

“But you have to be truthful and sincere about it. Not just say ‘no’ to them because you want to be cross and contradictory,” she added quickly.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“But if they aren’t for me, I will be honest about that too.”

“Fine.”

-

Lady Morrigan Court-Hewn.

30 years old. Socialite. Handbag and jewellery designer. Graduated from St. Andrews with a degree in International Studies. A fencing champion at the university, and an accomplished equestrian. Still rides professionally.

Previously engaged to Lord Vincent Eris Autumn, son of Earl Beron Autumn. Notable previous relationships include Prince Harry, Henry Cavill and a brief fling with Ronaldo.

Hobbies: Car racing (F1), horses, fencing and wine tasting

-

Today

And that’s how Azriel ended up here. 

‘Professional drinker’ was definitely omitted from Mor’s profile. As was, ‘expert gold digger’. 

As Dev drove towards Russell Square, Azriel checked his phone. 

Baron Kier Court-Hewn lost most of his fortune about ten years ago. He bred racing horses, and five of his top steeds needed to be put down due to some disease that they all got. With the death of the horses, the family fortune dwindled. That explained Mor’s ‘research’ into everyone’s finances. It wasn’t surprising that Azriel was primed for the taking.

He wouldn’t have cared about the money thing all that much–it was understandable, everyone wanted money–if she weren’t so vocal about her cunty opinions about Elain, and her calling Pinky ‘lame and legless’.

It’s been a busy week and he was feeling antsy for not having seen Elain and Pinky for four days. He set up the meeting with Mor as soon as Elain got him her information, preferring to get that out of the way. Then he had to travel to two games, and even though he wasn’t playing, he still had to attend. There was a meeting with disadvantaged youths from East London a couple of days ago, and a whole day shooting an advert for Christmas with his team. 

Thankfully, it was almost holiday time.

Once Dev pulled up to the townhouse, Azriel said, “don’t wait up”.

Dev smirked and told him, “I wouldn’t think of it!”

Bracing against the cold, Azriel rushed up the stairs and banged loudly on the door. Pink’s excited barking and scratching was heard on the other side.

“What is it?” came Elain’s faint question. ��Piglet, what’s going on?”

Bark-bark.

“Is it daddy?”

Fuck yeah it’s daddy!

The next moment, the door opened and Elain was smiling at him.

“Get dressed, beautiful,” Azriel ordered. “Put a hat on Pinky. We are going tree shopping!”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Finally it’s the stories where Magic is watching season 8 and can tell that we’re gonna get canon Buddie and has decided to get involved to speed things along! Which is honestly so valid of Magic I would do that too if I could

⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️ (It makes me so happy that every story with a bucktommy breakup is now just realigning with canon! We love BtBones! And we love this fic! I still have no real clue what’s happening and it’s delightful!! Loving the ride!)

🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️🌤️ (IM. SO. NORMAL.) (No I’m not but that’s okay! Is this another “buddie sees snippets of their future” type story and that future includes a Nico? I love your other ones like that and I already love this one too!!)

I hope you have a nice time in Jamaica Cal! And I hope you enjoy the continued journey of Getting Eddie Out and getting Buck off the hamster wheel and the return of Brad and HotShots! Wow I really love this show right now (and always) and I’m so glad to share it with lovely people like you!

- PCA <3

HELL YEAH TO THIS THEME TOO.

And thank you! Jamaica was awesome. Very affirming career wise. And YES I am loving it!

78 for ⚖️ (THANKS! You are going to find out a bit more of what is happening here.)

---

She sighs. “My name is Nemesis.”

“Oh,” Buck replies, concealing a grimace. Parents were edgy then? Then Buck remembers the scales on his arm. His mind flashes to an illustrated mythology book that Chris once showed him. “Or… Wait a minute. You’re not saying you’re that…” 

She nods. “The very same.”

Buck’s shoulders drop. “Okay. That’s… That’s not real.” 

“Oh? It’s not?” She raises her eyebrows, casually amused. “You’ve seen yourself this week how very real I am.”

Buck swallows. He can’t deny that. 

“What did you do to me?” Buck asks. “And how can I get my life back?”

“Oh, you can’t. Sweet thing. You just can’t. It’s gone.”

“Gone?” Buck echoes. 

She nods. “I’ll break this down really simply. I haven’t had a proper representative over in these parts for… Well, since 1911.”

1911. 

Why does Buck know…

Oh. 

“That’s the year Billy Boils died,” Buck says. 

She nods. “Mmm. Sad time. Even sadder? How long it has taken to find a replacement.”

Buck feels queasy. “Me? I’m the replacement?”

“No one else that came in contact with the body was quite right,” she says. “Too power hungry. Too selfish. Too weak. You, though? You’re just right.”

“I knew I was cursed,” Buck hisses. 

“Cursed?” She protests. “No, it’s a gift! How many times do I have to say that?”

“Maybe I’m too stupid for it, then,” Buck says. “Should probably revoke it.”

“The only revocation is death, Evan Buckley,” Nemesis snaps. 

He pales. Fuck. 

“I almost did die,” he reminds her. “How is that a gift?”

“Oh, well that’s all part of it,” she shrugs. 

“All part of it?” He demands. “I got so sick they told my family I was on death’s door. That was you?”

She nods. “It was.”

“I was covered in boils!” 

She nods again.

“You dislocated my shoulder!”

This gives her pause. “I did what?”

“Uh… When my shoulder dislocated just like… Just like I accidentally did to Billy.”

She snorts. “That was all you.” 

---

144 or 1k for 🌤️ (THANK YOU! It's a trope I love to write and I missed Nico!)

---

Also that Eddie’s not far off. But still. Eddie plans on holding this over his head.

But that also means… Chris is twenty. Twenty. 

He opens his messaging app and searches for Christopher’s name. He’s right at the top. According to his phone, they talked the day before. He scrolls up without really reading. They talk a lot. That’s a good sign. Better than their current state of affairs. 

Eddie takes a deep breath and hits the call button.

It rings a few times. Enough that Eddie starts to get nervous Chris won’t pick up. 

But he does.

“Dad?” An adult male voice answers groggily. 

Eddie finds himself smiling and shaking a little, all at the same time. 

“H-hey, Chris. Hi.”

“Is everything okay?” Chris sounds a bit alarmed.

“What? Yeah. Yeah, of course. I was just hoping to talk.”

“At seven in the morning on a Saturday?”

Oh. Whoops.

“I mean, I expect this from Buck, but I thought you were reasonable.”

“Oh, wow. Sorry. I didn’t realize the time.”

“Nico wake you up stupid early?” 

“Something like that… Hey, uh… Speaking of Nico. Uh, your brother.” 

“You’re being weird. He okay?” 

“Yeah. He’s great,” Eddie guesses. He thinks so anyway. “But he wants to put up the Christmas tree.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m coming over Monday night, right?” 

Monday night. That’s why Nico was asking how many days. Okay, that’s not so long to tell him. But… But what if Eddie and Buck are back to their proper timeline by Monday night? Which would be ideal. Eddie should get back to his proper life. Ideally. But… But how can he miss this chance either? To see Chris, twenty years-old, and not… Gone from his life? A Chris nearby and in frequent contact? Or, at least Eddie assumes he’s nearby. If he can just pop over for Christmas tree decorating. 

“Yeah, Monday. We can do that. Uh, you busy today, though?” 

Eddie has no idea what he does or where he lives or what’s going on in his life. This might be an absurd ask. 

“Uh… I was going to do some schoolwork, but I guess I could postpone it.”

Normally, Eddie would say no. Don’t put off schoolwork for him. School comes first. Whatever school he’s in these days. But… But Eddie really needs to see him. He hasn’t seen Christopher in months, and he’ll take him at whatever age he can get. 

“Is that… Is that okay?” Eddie asks. “I mean… There’s sort of an adorable kid really hoping it is.”

Chris chuckles. “Yeah, that’s okay. You good to pick me up?” 

Eddie exhales, relieved. “Yes! Just tell me a time that works.” 

They agree upon a time and end the call. Eddie is so happy he feels like he’s floating. It only takes him a minute to realize he has no idea where Chris lives. 

🌤️

Buck is pretty excited to hear that Chris is coming over. Less excited to learn both their ages. Because what? That’s an insane amount of time to miss. That means Jee-Yun is ten. Jee-Yun! That means… Well, is Bobby still working at the 118? Are Buck and Eddie still working at the 118? There’s a lot to catch up on. A lot Buck feels uncomfortable to have missed. 

Buck is less excited when - through helping Eddie search his Google Maps history to find what must be Christopher’s apartment - he realizes Eddie will be collecting Chris by himself. Meaning, Buck will be staying home with Nico. Alone. And, yeah. It sounds lame. He’s sort of afraid of his future son. If this is the real future. Which, once again, is somewhat dubious because of the whole Eddie marrying him part.

It’s not that he’s afraid of Nico specifically. The kid is adorable and pretty sweet. Buck gets the sense he’s a bit more hyper than the kids he’s used to. A bit less able to sit still.  Always got something to do or say. He’s sort of busy. But… Well, that’s just kind of par for the course if he is Buck’s. So no concern there. He likes Nico. The problem is that he doesn’t actually think he wants to know him. 

It seems cruel, right? Like fate or the universe or whoever is playing a very sick joke on him. One day he’s broken up with by someone who pretty much changed his life. The next, he’s being shown some sort of dream future he won’t ever actually get to experience. Nico isn’t actually going to be his. So the idea of getting to know him sort of hurts like a bitch.

“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, seeing the hesitation on his face before he leaves the house. “You’re great with kids. You know that.”

It’s been about an hour since his call with Chris. They’ve finished eating. They’ve all gotten dressed. Buck has discovered Nico has an extensive collection of firefighter shirts, whether LAFD in origin or otherwise. He insists on wearing one today. 

“I…” Buck sighs. “I know that. I just… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it.”

He doesn’t know how to explain this to Eddie. That he doesn’t want to look too hard at this beautiful fantasy life. It’ll come too close to admitting he thinks he would want exactly this. Exactly something that Eddie can’t and shouldn’t have to offer him. That’s an unfair expectation. Learn how to be queer because I really like playing house with you. Yeah, no. It’s there or it’s not, right? 

“I’ll just be gone for a bit,” Eddie says. “Then we’ll have Chris as a buffer anyway.”

“You don’t think Chris will figure us out?” Buck asks. 

Eddie looks skeptical. “Why would anyone, in a million years, ever guess this?”

Well, because not everyone is a raging cynic. But, Chris is twenty. Maybe he’s grown into his father’s brand of in-the-box thinking when it comes to the way the world works.

[dontbebittah]

The History of Swingo, Part 4: The Heroines

(Jennifer Caldwell performing as Catherine of Aragon on the UK tour. Photographed by @paigeleigh_photography on Instagram.)

(5) Jennifer Caldwell was originally cast as alternate Boleyn/Howard in the 2019-2020 UK tour and continued on with the production in 2021-22 after the interruption due to COVID. She wore the teal alt costume with shorts and a Howard skirt as variations. In January 2020, she briefly joined the West End cast as a swing and went on for 5/6 roles, including her Aragon debut. Even more impressively, her one and only performance as Seymour (one of her THIRD covers) happened before she had debuted Boleyn. After returning for a new contract as principal Boleyn on the 22-23 UK tour, she was an emergency cover on the West End while the principal cast was performing for Queen Elizabeth II’s platinum jubilee. Since leaving Six, Jennifer has been seen in Fantastically Great Women Who Changed the World, Kathy & Stella Solve a Murder, Lizzie, and most recently Beauty and the Beast as Belle.

Days to complete Swingo: 78

Date completed: February 1st, 2020

Performance stats (principal #s in parentheses):

Fun Fact: Jennifer has a history of saving the day— before joining Six, she worked front of house at the Arts Theater but ended up performing in a show when multiple principal performers of Knights of the Rose were out, after which she was asked to officially join the cast.

(Harriet Watson performing as Jane Seymour on the UK tour. Photographed by @paigeleigh_photography on Instagram.)

(8) Harriet Watson has become a Six legend for the sheer number of times she has returned to the show as an emergency cover. Starting as alternate Seymour/Parr on the 2019-20 and 2021-22 UK tour, she wore (and still wears) the orange alt costume. In addition to many brief returns as an emergency cover, she returned as a universal swing for the 21-22 and 22-23 West End casts and the 22-23 UK Tour, and most recently was a temporary swing with the 23-25 West End cast. Harriet has the longest stretch between first and last debuts (mainly due to COVID), and is the first member of the Swingo club to not perform all six roles within a single contract. She almost certainly holds the record for longest duration between first and most recent performance (currently 11/15/19 to 9/6/24 or 1758 days). While Harriet has performed in other projects since initially leaving Six, including Rock Follies and …Forum, I imagine we’ll see her in a crown again.

Days to complete Swingo: 808

Date completed: January 30th, 2022

Performance stats:

Fun Fact: Harriet is the first and only alt to have performed their last scheduled show as a third cover (Howard). She did a bunch of shows after that, but it’s still a fun fact.

[yourreddancer]

Heather Cox Richardson 11.6.24

Heather Cox Richardson 11.6.24

Yesterday, November 5, 2024, Americans reelected former president Donald Trump, a Republican, to the presidency over Democratic candidate Vice President Kamala Harris. As of Wednesday night, Trump is projected to get at least 295 electoral votes to Harris’s 226, with two Republican-leaning states still not called. The popular vote count is still underway.

Republicans also retook control of the Senate, where Democrats were defending far more seats than Republicans. Control of the House is not yet clear. 

These results were a surprise to everyone. Trump is a 78-year-old convicted felon who has been found liable for sexual assault and is currently under indictment in a number of jurisdictions. He refused to leave office peacefully when voters elected President Joe Biden in 2020, instead launching an unprecedented attack on the U.S. Capitol to stop the counting of electoral votes, and said during his campaign that he would be a “dictator” on his first day in office.  

Pollsters thought the race would be very close but showed increasing momentum for Harris, and Harris’s team expressed confidence during the day. By posting on social media—with no evidence—that the voting in Pennsylvania was rigged, Trump himself suggested he expected he would lose the popular vote, at least, as he did in 2016 and 2020. 

But in 2024, it appears a majority of American voters chose to put Trump back into office. 

Harris and her running mate, Minnesota governor Tim Walz, offered a message of unity, the expansion of the economic policies that have made the U.S. economy the strongest in the world in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic, and the creation of an “opportunity economy” that echoed many of the policies Republicans used to embrace. Trump vowed to take revenge on his enemies and to return the country to the neoliberal policies President Joe Biden had rejected in favor of investing in the middle class.

When he took office, Biden acknowledged that democracy was in danger around the globe, as authoritarians like Russian president Vladimir Putin and China’s president Xi Jinping  maintained that democracy was obsolete and must be replaced by autocracies. Russia set out to undermine the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) that enforced the rules-based international order that stood against Russian expansion. 

Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán, who overturned democracy in his own country, explained that the historical liberal democracy of the United States weakens a nation because the equality it champions means treating immigrants, LGBTQ+ individuals, and women as equal to men, thus ending traditionally patriarchal society.

In place of democracy, Orbán champions “illiberal democracy,” or “Christian democracy.” This form of government holds nominal elections, although their outcome is preordained because the government controls all the media and has silenced opposition. Orbán’s model of minority rule promises a return to a white-dominated, religiously based society, and he has pushed his vision by eliminating the independent press, cracking down on political opposition, getting rid of the rule of law, and dominating the economy with a group of crony oligarchs. 

In order to strengthen democracy at home and abroad, Biden worked to show that it delivered for ordinary Americans. He and the Democrats passed groundbreaking legislation to invest in rebuilding roads and bridges and build new factories to usher in green energy. They defended unions and used the Federal Trade Commission to break up monopolies and return more economic power to consumers. 

Their system worked. It created record low unemployment rates, lifted wages for the bottom 80% of Americans, and built the strongest economy in the world in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic, setting multiple stock market records.  But that success turned out not to be enough to protect democracy. 

In contrast, Trump promised he would return to the ideology of the era before 2021, when leaders believed in relying on markets to order the economy with the idea that wealthy individuals would invest more efficiently than if the government regulated business or skewed markets with targeted investment (in green energy, for example). Trump vowed to cut taxes for the wealthy and corporations and to make up lost revenue through tariffs, which he incorrectly insists are paid by foreign countries; tariffs are paid by U.S. consumers. 

For policies, Trump’s campaign embraced the Project 2025 agenda led by the right-wing Heritage Foundation, which has close ties to Orbán. That plan calls for getting rid of the nonpartisan civil service the U.S. has had since 1883 and for making both the Department of Justice and the military partisan instruments of a strong president, much as Orbán did in Hungary. It also calls for instituting religious rule, including an end to abortion rights, across the U.S. Part of the idea of “purifying” the country is the deportation of undocumented immigrants: Trump promised to deport 20 million people at an estimated cost of $88 billion to $315 billion a year. 

That is what voters chose.

Pundits today have spent time dissecting the election results, many trying to find the one tweak that would have changed the outcome, and suggesting sweeping solutions to the Democrats’ obvious inability to attract voters. There is no doubt that a key factor in voters’ swing to Trump is that they associated the inflation of the post-pandemic months with Biden and turned the incumbents out, a phenomenon seen all over the world.

There is also no doubt that both racism and sexism played an important role in Harris’s defeat. 

But my own conclusion is that both of those things were amplified by the flood of disinformation that has plagued the U.S. for years now. Russian political theorists called the construction of a virtual political reality through modern media “political technology.” They developed several techniques in this approach to politics, but the key was creating a false narrative in order to control public debate. These techniques perverted democracy, turning it from the concept of voters choosing their leaders into the concept of voters rubber-stamping the leaders they had been manipulated into backing. 

In the U.S., pervasive right-wing media, from the Fox News Channel through right-wing podcasts and YouTube channels run by influencers, have permitted Trump and right-wing influencers to portray the booming economy as “failing” and to run away from the hugely unpopular Project 2025. They allowed MAGA Republicans to portray a dramatically falling crime rate as a crime wave and immigration as an invasion. They also shielded its audience from the many statements of Trump’s former staff that he is unfit for office, and even that his chief of staff General John Kelly considers him a fascist and noted that he admires German Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler.

As actor Walter Masterson posted: “I tried to educate people about tariffs, I tried to explain that undocumented immigrants pay billions in taxes and are the foundation of this country. I explained Project 2025, I interviewed to show that they supported it. I can not compete against the propaganda machines of Twitter, Fox News, [Joe Rogan Experience], and NY Post. These spaces will continue to create reality unless we create a more effective way of reaching people.” 

X users noted a dramatic drop in their followers today, likely as bots, no longer necessary, disengaged. 

Many voters who were using their vote to make an economic statement are likely going to be surprised to discover what they have actually voted for. In his victory speech, Trump said the American people had given him an “unprecedented and powerful mandate.” 

White nationalist Nick Fuentes posted, “Your body, my choice. Forever,” and gloated that men will now legally control women’s bodies. His post got at least 22,000 “likes.” Right-wing influencer Benny Johnson, previously funded by Russia, posted: “It is my honor to inform you that Project 2025 was real the whole time.” 

Today, Trump campaign press secretary Karoline Leavitt said Trump would launch the “largest mass deportation operation” of undocumented immigrants, and the stock in private prison companies GEO Group and CoreCivic  jumped 41% and 29%, respectively. Those jumps were part of a bigger overall jump: the Dow Jones Industrial Average moved up 1,508 points in what Washington Post economic columnist Heather Long said was the largest post-election jump in more than 100 years. 

As for the lower prices Trump voters wanted, Kate Gibson of CBS today noted that on Monday, the National Retail Federation said that Trump’s proposed tariffs will cost American consumers between $46 billion and $78 billion a year as clothing, toys, furniture, appliances, and footwear all become more expensive. A $50 pair of running shoes, Gibson said, would retail for $59 to $64 under the new tariffs.

U.S. retailers are already preparing to raise prices of items from foreign suppliers, passing to consumers the cost of any future tariffs. 

Trump’s election will also mean he will no longer have to answer to the law for his federal indictments: special counsel Jack Smith is winding them down ahead of Trump’s inauguration. So he will not be tried for retaining classified documents or attempting to overthrow the U.S. government when he lost in 2020. 

This evening, Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán posted on social media that he had just spoken with Trump, and said: “We have big plans for the future!” 

This afternoon, Vice President Kamala Harris spoke at her alma mater, Howard University, to concede the election to Trump. 

She thanked her supporters, her family, the Bidens, the Walz family, and her campaign staff and volunteers. She reiterated that she believes Americans have far more in common than separating us.

In what appeared to be a message to Trump, she noted: “A fundamental principle of American democracy is that when we lose an election, we accept the results. That principle as much as any other distinguishes democracy from monarchy or tyranny, and anyone who seeks the public trust must honor it. At the same time in our nation, we owe loyalty not to a president or a party, but to the Constitution of the United States, and loyalty to our conscience and to our God. 

“My allegiance to all three is why I am here to say, while I concede this election, I do not concede the fight that fuels this campaign, the fight for freedom, for opportunity, for fairness and the dignity of all people, a fight for the ideals at the heart of our nation, the ideals that reflect America at our best. That is a fight I will never give up.”

Harris urged people “to organize, to mobilize and to stay engaged for the sake of freedom and justice and the future that we all know we can build together.” She told those feeling as if the world is dark indeed these days, to “fill the sky with the light of a billion brilliant stars, the light of optimism, of faith, of truth and service,” and to let “that work guide us, even in the face of setbacks, toward the extraordinary promise of the United States of America.” 

—

[kmomof4]

A Christmas Surprise- NEW CHAPTER!!

Summary: Elsa Jones enlists her friend Emma Swan to come up with a scheme to surprise her niece Alice Jones when her Papa, Killian, returns from deployment just in time for Christmas.

If you're thinking this fic sounds familiar, you're right! I originally wrote this fic two years ago, but last year an idea came to me of how I could continue the story. It was too close to Christmas last year to get it done, so I wrote this addition last spring and it's been waiting for December to get here so I could post it!! I still think this fic is the cutest thing I've ever written and I hope you enjoy this continuation. The addition turned out to be much too long, so I divided it up into three chs. The next ch will post on Tuesday with the final ch posting next Friday.

On ao3 from the beginning/ current ch

Words: 5225 of 18,550

Rating: G, total Christmas fluff ahead!!!

All the love and thanks to @jrob64 and @snowbellewells for being the best betas out there. I so hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@teamhook @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @xarandomdreamx @undercaffinatednightmare @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @superchocovian @pirateprincessofpizza @tiganasummertree @anmylica @cosette141 @motherkatereloyshipper @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @kymbersmith-90 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @wistfulcynic @mie779 @lfh1226-linda @aprilqueen84 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @pirateherokillian @elfiola @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul @poptart-cat-78 @myfearless-love @goforlaunchcee @searchingwardrobes @gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @djlbg @cocohook38 @cs-rylie @thisonesatellite @donteattheappleshook @deckerstarblanche @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @fleurdepetite @alexa-fangirl-forever @bluewildcatfanatic

@qualitycoffeethings

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Killian Jones sat in the darkness of the giant present in which he was hiding, waiting for his daughter’s Christmas program to begin. He couldn’t wait to see his starfish when he surprised her after she sang her solo this evening. He was proud to serve his country, but the long deployments made things especially difficult. Having Liam and Elsa so close by and willing to care for Alice when he was gone was a blessing he didn’t take for granted in the least, but he was so thankful that he was home for good now and was eligible to retire in just a few more months. 

Which made him think about what would come next. What the future might hold and how the lovely Emma Swan might fit into it. He’d been thoroughly gobsmacked when he laid eyes on the golden haired beauty who was Alice’s teacher when he arrived at the school earlier. And then the revelation that she was single sent his heart rate ratcheting up like he hadn’t experienced since he’d met his late wife. It had been six years since he’d lost his beloved Milah, and the thought of re-entering the dating scene hadn’t crossed his mind once in all that time. He was still relatively young and handsome, but with his very young daughter and Navy career, he didn’t have the time or inclination to put himself back out there.

But Emma Swan might just change his mind on that front.

He knew his countenance sported a goofy, thoroughly besotted smile when he heard movement on the outside of the box in which he sat. Bright light from the auditorium flooded the dark space as the small door in the side of it opened, helping him immensely in the schooling of his features before being confronted with the object of his thoughts as she handed him his dinner.

“Do you have enough light to see to eat in here?” Emma asked, looking around.

Killian grimaced. He hadn’t really thought of that. “Perhaps not.” 

“I can stay for a bit while you eat, turn the flashlight on on my phone. So you can see to eat,” she stammered. The blush on her cheeks was adorable, and Killian’s heart rate picked up yet again.

“That would be great. Thank you, Emma.”

She smiled as she moved into the space with him. It was a bit cramped with them both sitting on the floor, but he didn’t mind it at all. He tucked into his Christmas meal of roast turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes, green beans and cranberry salad as Emma told him about some of the antics Henry, Alice, and her cousins had gotten up to this semester.

She told him about Liam Jr and Colin hiding Alice’s pencil box on the first day of school. Meant as an initiation of sorts, it had made Elsa’s morning that much more hectic and stressful trying to find it and make it to school on time. Emma related how she’d had trouble containing her giggles when the twins confessed what they’d done, handed over the pencil box, and got exactly what was coming to them from their mother. Later on the same day, in retaliation, Alice and Henry had hidden away the twins’ lunch boxes. Killian had to stifle his laughter at the story. 

Then Emma told him about the time just a few weeks ago when Alice was delayed coming back from the restroom. When Emma went to look for her, she found the child peeking into the auditorium where her cousins were engaged in a basketball game with another school in the area. Colin had just made a shot, and Alice was cheering loudly for her cousin from the hallway when Emma found her. Killian’s heart swelled. 

By this time, he’d finished his meal and it was time for Emma to depart.

“Alice’s solo is I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” Emma explained. “Do you sing at all? Why don’t you join her for the last line of the song? She’ll just be singing the stanza we all know and love twice, with a bridge in between, so you’ll know exactly when to come in.” Emma’s face was lit up in the light from her phone, and Killian grinned, even as his cheeks heated.

He scratched behind his ear in embarrassment as he spoke. “I’ve been told,” he shrugged, “I have a reasonably nice sounding voice. I think that’s a great idea. So the second time she sings the verse, I’ll join her for the last line and come out of the box?”

Emma nodded. “Yes.” A little giggle burst from her lips as she rose, preparing to leave the cramped quarters, and Killian was utterly charmed. “I can’t wait to see the look on Alice’s face. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“I have too,” Killian agreed. “When Elsa told me what you had planned, I was excited too. And a bit overwhelmed,” he admitted. “That anyone besides Elsa would care so much about Alice that they would arrange something like this…” He trailed away for a moment. “Thank you, Emma.”

Emma had to look away from his sincere expression, a blush heating her cheeks. “You’re quite welcome, Killian. She’s an absolute dear and one of my favorite students. I’ll see you at the end of the program.” And with that, she slipped out of the box, leaving Killian to his thoughts.

~*~*~

Sitting there in the dark listening to the program going on onstage was torture. He could hear everything, and he had no doubt that if he joined in the laughter with the audience and then the sing-along towards the end of the program, the children on the stage would be able to hear him, thus spoiling the surprise. But the time finally came for Alice to sing her solo. A smile with just a touch of sadness and nostalgia broke over his face. Milah hadn’t been able to carry a tune in a bucket, but she loved to listen to him sing, especially to their baby girl at bedtime. He could hear the piano music, and then his Starfish began to sing with her strong and sweet voice. 

I’ll be home for Christmas. 

You can count on me.

Please have snow and mistletoe 

And presents by the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me 

Where the love light gleams.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams.

Tears were coursing down his face as he listened, and he didn’t know if he was going to be able to wait for the last line of the song. He heard Alice begin the next stanza, but suddenly, she stopped singing and a hiccupping sob escaped her. Killian quickly dried his own tears and picked up where his Starfish had left off as he opened the box and stepped out in front of it.

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams

Killian’s heart melted with love and pride when his eyes landed on Alice. She was looking at Emma who was knelt down next to her and was pointing towards him, tears shining in her eyes. 

Alice turned toward him and the confusion on her face melted into pure unadulterated joy when she spotted him. 

“Papa!” she shouted. 

She ran across the stage and leapt into his waiting arms. His little girl had grown a lot in the last nine months, and he was nearly toppled by her enthusiastic greeting. Spinning around with his daughter in his arms, he planted loud, smacking kisses all over her face. He knew she missed him as much as he did her because she didn’t try to wiggle out of his embrace when he did that. 

After he set her down, he looked around the quickly emptying auditorium, finding the rest of his family waiting to welcome him home. He hugged his twin nephews, Liam Jr. and Colin, tightly, exclaiming how they looked more like their father than ever. Then Alice was back in front of him, holding the hand of an older boy behind her.

“Papa, this is Henry Swan,” she introduced. “He’s my best friend.” She turned to her friend with a wide smile on her lips. Killian held out his hand for the young man to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Henry,” Killian said, sincerely. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you befriending my Alice when I deployed last spring.” He looked down at his daughter as she hugged him tightly around the waist, draping his arm across her shoulders. “She can be shy, so it means a lot for someone to reach out to her when she only knew her cousins here at the school.”

The boy blushed as he shook Killian’s hand. “It was my pleasure, sir,” Henry said, a bit shyly himself. 

Killian felt his own cheeks heat as he moved toward Emma, scratching behind his ear in nervousness.

“Thank you so much for this, Emma,” he said sincerely. “I truly can’t tell you what it means to me.”

Emma smiled, the action lighting up her green eyes, and Killian caught his breath. “I was happy to do it, Killian.”

He scratched behind his ear again, not meeting her eyes, searching for the words to ask this beautiful woman out on a date. “Could I… uh, would you mind if…” He remembered that Liam was fond of saying a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets, and Killian had a feeling this lovely lady in front of him was definitely worth fighting for. He finally looked up at her and just spit it out. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee sometime? It’s the start of Christmas break, is it not?” he asked as she looked back at him after looking down at Henry, who stood beside her grinning widely.

“It is,” she affirmed. “And I’d love to have coffee with you, Killian.”

Killian couldn’t keep the grin off of his face if he tried. Being back home with his daughter and family around him, and now going on a date with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on, he had a feeling his life was on the precipice of something great. And he couldn’t wait to see what the future held. 

~*~*~

It was Christmas Eve, and Killian didn’t think he could possibly be any happier. Having this time with his family after being away for nine months was a respite he desperately needed. And the addition of the time spent with Emma since they’d met a little over a week ago was only the icing on the cake.

The day after the Christmas program, he and Emma met for coffee, which stretched to lunch, and then all the way to the end of the day. Killian could feel his cheeks heat as he remembered the wide happy smiles on Elsa and Liam’s faces as they passed in front of the coffee shop where he and Emma had met, herding the four children toward Granny’s a couple of doors down for lunch. Killian had been completely oblivious to the time, and when Elsa caught his eye as they passed, he’d pulled out his phone, stunned to find that over two hours had passed in Emma’s delightful company. They quickly settled their tab and joined the rest of them at Granny’s where he got an up front and personal look at just how well Emma and Henry fit into his family. It was enough to really get him thinking about seriously pursuing Emma. 

After lunch, he’d been loath to part from her, so had spontaneously invited her and Henry to accompany them as they sought out the perfect Christmas tree. Elsa and Liam hadn’t yet decorated when they received word that he’d be arriving home and decided to put it off until after he got there. It took the rest of the afternoon and evening to find, put up, and decorate the tree. 

Since that first all day “date”, Emma and Henry had joined the Jones family for all of the requisite holiday traditions- decorating the rest of the Jones’ domicile, holiday baking, and ice-skating on the frozen pond in the park. 

The kids had arranged an ice skating outing for all of them the previous Tuesday. Killian Jones might have served his country in the United States Navy for almost twenty years, but there was a big difference between being on a ship in the middle of the ocean and trying to navigate frozen water on nothing more than a single blade in the middle of his feet. Why they didn’t have double-bladed skates for adults to rent, he’d never know. 

But he really couldn’t complain much since Emma was usually the one helping him to his feet when he fell. Alice and Henry had been concerned at first, but the more he fell, the funnier they thought it was. By the time he was ready to hang up the skates and just watch the rest of them, Alice and Henry’s red faces were as much from their laughter at him as from the cold. But again, he couldn’t complain, because seeing the happiness and laughter on his daughter’s face was well worth the humiliation of multiple wipeouts on the ice in front of the woman he really liked and wanted to impress. Thankfully, Emma soon joined him on the bench, where they sipped hot chocolate and laughed as they watched the children cavort on the rink.

Now, arriving back home after the Christmas Eve service at church, Killian couldn’t help the love and happiness blooming in his chest as he watched his family and the woman he was quickly falling for and her son gather around the tree for their gift exchange.

As he stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching them, Emma stood up and approached him. Her smile was bright and happy, and Killian returned it as she got closer.

“I’m just going to refill my glass,” she said, holding it up to show him. He moved quickly to the side to let her pass. A minute or so later, she stopped next to him on the way back out to the living room. “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I was just watching everyone for a minute.” He paused for a moment, and she was silent as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m so happy to be home,” he said in a whisper. He turned toward Emma, not sure if he spoke loud enough for her to hear him. Her eyes and smile were soft, and he knew she had.

“I know you are,” she said. “And I know how happy Alice and the rest of your family are to have you home as well. They missed you.”

“I missed them,” he said, looking back out at the room where everyone else was gathered. “It’s very hard being away from them for so many months at a time.”

“I couldn’t imagine,” she commiserated. 

Liam looked up at them then and a spark of mischief appeared in his eye. Killian immediately was on the alert. That look always meant Liam was up to something.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he called jovially, pointing at them, then up to the top of the doorway where they stood.

Killian looked up and immediately felt his cheeks flame. He glanced at Emma, her countenance still directed to the greenery hanging above them, her jaw hanging open slightly. When she looked at him, bashful but pleased surprise was all over her face. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten Liam and Elsa’s habit of hanging mistletoe in the doorway to the kitchen. 

It was a tradition that had begun when they were dating. Liam had Elsa over for dinner in his apartment, and when he started bringing the dishes he’d prepared for their meal from the kitchen to the table, Elsa jumped up to help him. Each time they passed each other in the doorway, they’d kiss, so when Christmas rolled around, they decided it was the perfect place to hang the mistletoe. And it had hung there every year since.

Elsa couldn’t disguise her glee when she looked over at them. “Go on, Killian,” she urged. “You can’t break tradition.” Everyone in the room was now staring at them, with the kids exchanging furtive glances before joining together in only a moderately loud chant kiss kiss kiss. Killian glanced at Alice and Henry, taking in their smiling faces before turning back to Emma. 

He leaned in close, never taking his eyes off hers. They sparkled with undisguised anticipation, but he had to make sure she was really agreeable before doing anything else, no matter what the members of the peanut gallery wanted.

“Are you alright with this, Emma?”

Her smile widened even more. “Yes, Killian,” she whispered.

“We’ll save a real kiss for when we don’t have an audience watching,” he whispered huskily, before brushing his lips against the corner of her mouth. He pulled back and was thrilled to see a deep blush on her cheeks and wide smile on her lips. She looked down, embarrassed, before making her way back to the living room where everyone had broken into whoops and cheers of celebration. Killian couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction he felt that she appeared to welcome his advances. He followed her into the living room and sat on the sofa, wrapping his arm around Alice as Liam Jr. got ready to play Santa and hand out the gifts.

Once they were handed out, it didn’t appear to have made any sort of dent in the pile under the tree. The twins and Alice had each been allowed to open two gifts- one a new set of pajamas they got every year, and then a second of their choosing from under the tree. Gifts between the adults would be exchanged in the morning, but Liam had gotten a joint gift for Elsa and Emma who also had gifts for each other, and Alice had a gift for Emma and Henry, Henry had a gift for Alice, and Emma had a gift for Killian.

They watched Henry and Alice open their presents to each other first. Henry was thrilled when he opened a new journal for him to write in, which appeared to have been hand made by his friend and was decorated with writing quotes and stickers. Henry was blushing furiously as Alice opened her gift, a hardbound copy of a story he’d written just for her. Alice and Killian both were completely stunned at the gift. Killian couldn’t imagine the kind of time and effort it would have required to make a gift like this. Alice threw her arms around Henry’s neck and gave him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Henry,” she gushed. “I’ll treasure it always.” 

Then it was Emma’s turn, and she opened a travel mug with World’s Best Teacher on the side from Alice, and she was the one to open the gift for herself and Elsa from Liam- a gift certificate for the two of them for a spa day that included facials, massages, getting their nails done, as well as a gourmet lunch. Elsa squealed, and planted a very enthusiastic kiss on her husband’s lips in thanks. Emma laughed at the display.

“I won’t be doing that,” she quipped at Liam, a wide grin on her face. “But, thank you.”

Liam laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he shot right back at her, his arm around Elsa’s shoulders. “But, you’re welcome.”

Emma then opened her gift from Elsa to find warm fleece pajamas. Elsa knew how hard Emma found it to stay warm in the Maine winters, so the yellow and forest green plaid pjs were very welcome and appreciated. Emma bought Elsa a gift card to her favorite coffee shop that would likely last her at least a month.

Finally, Emma brought the gift she’d bought for Killian toward him. Killian was surprised, and he was sure she could see it on his face.

“You shouldn’t have, Emma,” he protested. “I don’t have anything for you.”

Emma shrugged, but she had a smile on her face. “Don’t worry about that. It really isn’t much. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel like I do know you after hearing Elsa and Alice talk about you the whole time you’ve been gone. So when I saw this while I was grocery shopping last week, I thought you probably missed it while you were gone.” She handed him a relatively tall and round gift, wrapped with the same paper that had wrapped the box he’d hidden in for the program. He opened it carefully and his jaw dropped in surprise before his eyes met hers.

“How did you know?” he asked, completely flabbergasted. In his hands was a very large tin of one of his very favorite treats, Pirouline hazelnut creme filled wafers.

“Elsa told me,” she replied. “She found some at the grocery store and bought them for Alice not long after you deployed so she could have one of her Papa’s favorite treats every day, since you couldn’t while you were gone.”

Killian felt the tears gathering in his eyes as he thought of his little girl enjoying the cookies on his behalf so she hopefully wouldn’t miss him quite so much. Emma grinned as he hugged Alice tightly to him and placed a kiss on the top of her head, so grateful to be back home with the ones he loved again.

“Thank you, Emma,” he choked out. “This means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned back toward Henry, catching him in the middle of a huge yawn. “Come on, kid,” she cajoled. “It’s time to head home and to bed, or Santa won’t come.”

“Uh huh,” Henry replied, a tired yet sarcastic smirk on his face as he rose to his feet. Emma ruffled his hair and smirked back at him in return.

“Or more likely, if you don’t go to bed soon, you won’t wake up early enough in the morning for us to make it to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for Grandpa’s Christmas pancakes,” she added. That got Henry moving quickly toward the door. Emma turned and faced the room. “Merry Christmas, everyone. We’ll see you…” Emma trailed away with a quiet chuckle. “Sometime next week.” Elsa rose to see Emma and Henry out, and Killian squeezed Alice and whispered in her ear.

“I’m just going to say goodnight to Emma, too,” he said. “Is that alright?”

Alice beamed at him. “Yes, Papa. I love Miss Swan. And I know you’ll love her, too.”

Killian was taken aback. Could she possibly mean…? Surely not, she was much too young for that. Or at least, he hoped she was…

Alice wasn’t finished. “You should go out on a real date. Without all of us.” 

Killian frowned. “How do you know about dating?” he asked. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”

Alice rolled her eyes at him. She looked just like her mother when she did, and Killian felt a pang go through his heart. “I watch TV, Papa,” she informed him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Killian rolled his eyes in response.

“So you’d be ok with me dating Miss Swan?” he asked, just to make sure.

Alice smiled and bopped him on the nose. “Yes, Papa.” Killian nodded and kissed Alice on the tip of her nose.

“I love you, Starfish.”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

Killian squeezed her one more time and rose from the sofa, arriving at the front door just as Emma and Henry were walking through it.

“Emma,” he called softly. She turned toward him and the smile that covered her face took his breath away. Elsa gave him a pleased and bashful smile as she moved back toward the living room and the rest of the family. “I just wanted to tell you goodnight, and thank you again for my Christmas present.”

Emma blushed at his words and cut her eyes away from him for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Uh, I was wondering…” He trailed away and scratched at the spot behind his ear. “Do you have plans for New Years?”

Emma’s smile widened even more. “I don’t,” she replied.

“Would, ah, would you like to go out with me?” he stammered. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d never been this nervous asking a woman out before, not even in the early days of dating Milah. And he’d already spent time with her and was quite sure she was interested in him as well. Maybe it was the fact that his entire family was only a few feet away and could easily hear them if they were so inclined. He hoped they weren’t, but given how they acted earlier when they were caught under the mistletoe, he wasn’t terribly optimistic. 

“I’d love to,” she said, her smile even wider, if that was possible, and her eyes sparkling. “I’ll need to find a sitter for Henry…”

“Oh, don’t worry about Henry,” Elsa called from the living room. “He can spend the night here with us. You two go out and have fun.”

Emma’s eyes widened and then cut away from his as he bowed his head and chuckled at Elsa’s offer.

“Thank you, Elsa,” Killian called, only slight exasperation at her obvious eavesdropping coloring his tone.

“You’re welcome,” she called back. He could hear the satisfaction in her voice and could imagine her smug face, even if he couldn’t see it.

“I’ll pick you up at 7?” he asked. 

“That’ll be great, Killian,” she said, her smile softening as she looked back out the door toward where Henry was waiting in her car. “I’ll see you then.” She looked back at him, raised up on her toes, and brushed her lips against the corner of his lips, just as he’d done earlier. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

~*~*~

Some hours later, Killian and Liam sat in front of the dying fire, sipping from tumblers of rum. The rest of the family was sound asleep in their beds, but the brothers hadn’t had much time to be alone, so Liam had stayed up with Killian to help him put together the doll house he’d bought for Alice. And now that it was finished, they were enjoying a quiet drink together.

“How long before you report back for duty?” Liam asked.

“I report back February first,” Killian replied.

“And retirement date?”

“Officially it’s May 31,” he informed him, “but with my terminal leave saved up, the ceremony is April 11th.”

Liam nodded. “Have you given any thought to what you’ll do after you retire?”

Killian took a deep breath. “As far as working, no.” He paused for a moment. “But I have thought about dating Emma.” His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, but he hoped his brother heard his words and he wouldn’t have to repeat them.

“Good.” Killian looked at his brother to see a satisfied smile on his face. “I’m glad to hear it. With your retirement imminent, you really don’t have a valid reason anymore to not date.” Liam’s eyebrow rose and Killian couldn’t help but bristle a bit at his brother’s words. “Don’t get your back up, Killian,” Liam continued, moving his hands in a placating gesture. “I know you loved Milah very much, and being a father to a young daughter is more than enough reason to be cautious in that area,” he acknowledged, and Killian could feel his ire receding at his brother’s words. “But I know Emma. And I know you. And I think you could be very happy together.” 

Killian smiled at that last statement. “I think you’re right,” he agreed.

“And that brings us to housing arrangements.” The smile on Liam’s face made Killian smile too. 

“I can’t impose on your hospitality forever, brother,” Killian said.

“There’s a house in the next neighborhood over,” Liam informed him. “It’s lovely. Two story, storage in the back, a view of the sea. I don’t know square footage or how many bedrooms it has, but it looks like plenty of room for a family.” Liam’s face was entirely too innocent, and Killian chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“You don’t need to do that, you know,” he said. “You couldn’t be more obvious. You want me to move here.”

Liam smiled. “You have to admit, the idea has merit. Your family is here, Emma is here, Alice could grow up with her cousins and Henry…”

“But what kind of job opportunities are there here?” Killian asked. “I’ve got some savings, but I can’t live off my retirement. I have a much better chance of finding good work in Boston.”

Liam scratched behind his ear with the same nervous tell Killian had. “This is very hush hush and isn’t public knowledge yet, but the firm is gearing up to open a whole new division for commercial property. With the surge of vacationers we’ve seen the last couple of years, the demand for services has really grown, and we have businesses coming out of the woodwork that need buildings to move into. Storybrooke doesn’t have the infrastructure to support them at the moment. I was the top agent in residential sales for the last two quarters and I’m on track to do it again this quarter as well. I’m sure I could put in a word for you and they’d agree to hold a position for you until April. They’ll be announcing the expansion and accepting résumés after the new year.”

Killian’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “Really? Wow…” This information all but sealed the deal for him. Of course he’d have to see numbers- salary, benefits, the price tag on the house Liam mentioned, but he couldn’t deny how well it all seemed to fit together and intersect perfectly with his own needs and desires.

“Since this is still on the down low, and the office is closed this week, I can give Nemo a call Wednesday or Thursday and tell him you’re interested.” Liam paused for a moment, his gaze on Killian intense. “If you’re interested, that is.”

Killian took a sip of his drink before replying. “Yes, I’m definitely interested.”

Liam’s relieved smile rivaled the lights on the tree as he stood. Killian stood as well, and the two men embraced warmly.

“This would be a dream come true, brother,” Liam said, patting him on the back before releasing him.

“It would,” Killian agreed. “I’ve missed you all.”

“We’ve missed you, too,” Liam said. “It’ll be so good to have you and Alice here in town and working in the same building.”

“It’s not a done deal yet, Liam,” Killian said laughing. “There’s still a lot up in the air about the entire situation.”

Liam scoffed and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Pfft. It’ll work out. I can feel it in my bones.”

Killian smiled warmly and turned toward the stairs. “We’ll see. I hope so. Goodnight, brother. Merry Christmas.”

“Goodnight, Killian. Merry Christmas. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Killian smiled and climbed the stairs to his room leaving a very happy Liam behind him.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing. New Years date will post on Tuesday!

[the-log-ffl]

S10:W5

The year of the mish continues… what the fuck is going on? I always try to put on a positive exterior but in reality, I think I lean to the glass half empty side of life unfortunately. I’m always watching for that check engine light to come on, my entree is the one the server forgets to ring in, the leak in the office skylight trickles down and lands solely on my desk, my package is in town but delivery has been delayed. It’s always fucking something. But lately I have felt a shift in the tides. I am learning how to say fuck you to things that don’t serve me well. I’m saying fuck you to foods, foods that I love but don’t love me back, I’m saying fuck you to some people, and for the same reason. I’m seeking small victories, setting micro goals if you will. Due 10 pushups you pussy, pass on the bread fag, jump in some cold water you little bitch, smoke less you degenerate, run a mile you lazy ass, walk to the beach and leave the phone behind, tell the kids you love them and you will kill anyone who ever tries to hurt them and get the wife some god damn flowers for no reason at all. Simple. Due to this change in mental management I have begun to reap some interesting benefits. I’m down 25 pounds, I no longer have to hold my breath to put on socks, I had to buy two new pairs of jeans, I mean they’re Amazon Essentials but still, I’m over 100 push ups a day, my kids love me, did some psychedelics with my wife, got to enjoy one of the best steaks on the planet and a little road head too. I’m thinking my glass is pretty fucking half full right now. I admit it puts a big smile on my face, and brings me extreme gratitude, but as much joy as these things currently bring to me, they don’t put the sparkle in my eye or the pride in my heart like starting off the 2024 season in the LOG 5 - 0!  It really is the apex of life.

Week 6 Predictions

Looks like we have a couple of double headers this week. I don’t know why Spirit, Redfield, ODBJ and myself are matching up in back to back weeks, but it has something to do with making sure The Romancer and Petey matched up on Big Sur Food and Wine week. Nevertheless, it is what it is. So it looks like Spirit will get another crack at the king, but alas, Turds already have their costume and  go to Costco instead. 

Turds over Spirit 111-89

FREEDOM over Nugs 108-96

SORDIDUS over Gringos 98 - 88

Sluts over Piece of Shit 122 - 103

ODBJ gets the wedding day edge over Redfield 110 - 101

Week 5 Results (3-2)

Turds over Spirit  101-87  120-95

Gringos over Nugs 89-79

Raj=Shit over Discipline 99-78  95-85

Sluts over Sordidus 112-110  141-109

Beckham over Redfield 97-88

Kick back with a microdose boys, a heavy microdose.

LOG 4 life!

~mish

LOG WEEKLY DICK SIZE RECAP

Matt Maier has the BIG DICK OF THE WEEK: 141 Points

Matt Hames has the small dick of the week: 85 Points

Shawn House has THE THROBBER - 190.64 (S9:W3)

Ethan App has the STINKY DICK - 48.76 Points (S8:W10)

[pleistocene-pride]

Dinornis better known as the Giant Moa is an extinct genus of birds belonging to the moa family of the suborder order Dinornithiformes, a group of large flightless birds which lived on the islands of New Zealand some 2 million to 500 years ago. There are 2 currently recognized species the North Island giant moa (Dinornis novaezealandiae) and the South Island giant moa (Dinornis robustus). These diurnal avians tended to be found in the lowlands of there island homes inhabiting Shrublands, Grasslands, Coastlands, and Forests where they occupied the niche of large terrestrial browsing herbivore similar to certain antelope, bovines, cervids, and giraffes of today, feeding upon Twigs, seeds, berries, leaves, flowers, fungi, vines, herbs, and shrubs. In life giant moas displayed a large reversed sexual dimorphism whereby the females were up to twice the size of males. With males reaching around 5 to 6.5ft (1.52 to 1.98m) in height and 120 to 195 (55 to 88kg) in weight, and females reaching roughly 10 to 12.5ft (3.05 to 3.81m) in height and 170 to 550lbs (78 to 250kgs) in weight these birds where amongst the largest to ever exist, with the North Island Giant Moa currently holding the record of the tallest bird ever and the South Island Giant Moa being the second tallest. However both are beaten in terms of weight by there fellow recently extinct ratite the elephant bird. Dinornis had long slim, elongated bones compared to other moa species, Maori historical accounts describe the animals as tall, two legged, tailess, wingless giants with slender necks. Brown, slightly streaked, downy, wool like feathers covered all of there bodies sans there heads, feet, and part of the neck. It is believed that the settlement of New Zealand by the Maori directly lead to the Moas extinction, as they were extensively hunted for there meat and feathers. Whats possibly more devastating was the introduction of Polynesian rats and dogs which likely destroyed moa nests and killed moa chicks faster than these large birds could mature and reproduce.The last of the giant moa likely died out around 1500 C.E. with the last species of smaller Moa the Upland Moa possibly holding out until the 1800s.

Art used belongs to the following creators:

Giova Favazzi

Mark Witton

Jaime Chirinos

Gabriel N. U.

Dana Franklin

[beardedmrbean]

MEXICO CITY — Claudia Sheinbaum, a climate scientist and former mayor of Mexico City, won her nation’s elections Sunday in a landslide victory that brought a double milestone: She became the first woman, and the first Jewish person, to be elected president of Mexico.

Early results indicated that Sheinbaum, 61, prevailed in what the authorities called the largest election in Mexico’s history, with the highest number of voters taking part and the most seats up for grabs.

It was a landmark vote that saw not one, but two, women vying to lead one of the hemisphere’s biggest nations. And it will put a Jewish leader at the helm of one of the world’s largest predominantly Catholic countries.

Sign up for The Morning newsletter from the New York Times

Sheinbaum, a leftist, campaigned on a vow to continue the legacy of Mexico’s current president and her mentor, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, which delighted their party’s base — and raised alarm among detractors. The election was seen by many as a referendum on his leadership, and her victory was a clear vote of confidence in López Obrador and the party he started.

López Obrador has completely reshaped Mexican politics. During his tenure, millions of Mexicans were lifted out of poverty and the minimum wage doubled. But he has also been a deeply polarizing president, criticized for failing to control rampant cartel violence, for hobbling the nation’s health system and for persistently undercutting democratic institutions.

Still, López Obrador remains widely popular and his enduring appeal propelled his chosen successor. And for all the challenges facing the country, the opposition was unable to persuade Mexicans that their candidate was a better option.

“We love her, we want her to work like Obrador,” Gloria Maria Rodríguez, 78, from Tabasco, said of Sheinbaum. “We want a president like Obrador.”

Sheinbaum won with at least 58% of the vote, according to preliminary results, while her closest competitor, Xóchitl Gálvez, an entrepreneur and former senator on a ticket with a coalition of opposition parties, had at least 26.6%.

If early returns hold, Sheinbaum will have captured a broader share of the vote than any candidate in decades.

Speaking to supporters early Monday, Sheinbaum vowed to work on behalf of all Mexicans, reaffirmed her party’s commitment to democracy and celebrated her groundbreaking ascension to the nation’s highest office.

“For the first time in 200 years of the republic, I will become the first female president of Mexico,” she said. “And as I have said on other occasions, I do not arrive alone. We all arrived, with our heroines who gave us our homeland, with our ancestors, our mothers, our daughters and our granddaughters.”

Sheinbaum said she received calls from Gálvez and the third-place candidate, Jorge Álvarez Máynez, to congratulate her on the victory. Shortly after Sheinbaum’s speech, Gálvez told supporters that the early returns were “not favorable to my candidacy,” and “irreversible,” noting that she had just communicated with Sheinbaum.

Gálvez had said in an interview days before the vote Sunday that “an anti-system vote” against López Obrador could help propel her to victory. In reality, it appeared that many Mexicans still associate the parties backing her with a system they see as inept and corrupt.

“Xóchitl Gálvez has been unable to represent change because the parties backing her embody the establishment,” said Carlos Bravo Regidor, a political analyst based in Mexico City. “Most Mexicans want a continuity of the change brought by López Obrador.”

Many voters seemed to endorse Sheinbaum as an agent of institutionalizing the changes brought about by her mentor. “We need to bring about more change to the country,” said Evelyn Román, 21, a chemical engineering student in Mexico City who supports Sheinbaum. “We did notice the progress in these six years.”

Sheinbaum’s experience is ample: She has a doctorate in energy engineering, participated in a United Nations panel of climate scientists awarded a Nobel Peace Prize and governed the capital, one of the largest cities in the hemisphere.

Known as a demanding boss with a reserved demeanor, Sheinbaum has risen through the ranks by aligning herself completely with López Obrador, who built an entire political party around his outsize personality. During the campaign, she backed many of his most contentious policies, including a slate of constitutional changes that critics say would severely undermine democratic checks and balances.

As a result, the president-elect battled the perception among many Mexicans that she will be little more than a pawn of her mentor.

“There’s this idea, because a lot of columnists say it, that I don’t have a personality,” Sheinbaum complained to reporters earlier this year. “That President Andrés Manuel López Obrador tells me what to do, that when I get to the presidency, he’s going to be calling me on the phone every day.”

Even with the broad mandate voters granted her, she faces significant challenges when she takes office in October.

López Obrador benefited “from the invincible popularity that comes from being a very charismatic leader — something that Claudia is not,” said Paula Sofía Vásquez, a political analyst based in Mexico City.

Cartel violence continues to torment the country, displacing people en masse and fueling one of the deadliest campaign cycles in recent Mexican history, with more than 36 people vying for public office killed since last summer.

Carlos Ortiz, 57, a municipal official working for the Iztapalapa borough in Mexico City, said that such bloodshed compelled him to vote against Sheinbaum.

“I want everything to change,” Ortiz said, recalling the dozens of aspirants for public office killed in recent months. “I don’t want a country on fire anymore.”

López Obrador has directed government attention to addressing the drivers of crime instead of waging war on the criminal groups, a strategy he called “hugs not bullets.” Homicides declined modestly but remain near record levels, and reports of missing people have spiked. Insecurity was a top concern for voters.

Sheinbaum has said she would continue his focus on social causes of the violence, while also working to lower rates of impunity and building up the national guard.

On the economy, the opportunities are clear: Mexico is now the largest trading partner of the United States, benefiting from a recent shift in manufacturing away from China. The currency is so strong it’s been labeled the “super peso.”

But there are also problems simmering. The federal deficit ballooned to around 6% this year, and Pemex, the national oil company, is operating under a mountain of debt, straining public finances.

“The fiscal risk we’re facing at the moment is something we haven’t seen for decades,” said Mariana Campos, director of Mexico Evaluates, a public policy research group.

It’s unclear how Sheinbaum would make good on a range of campaign promises — from building public schools and new health clinics to expanding social welfare programs — given the current state of public finances.

“The problem I see is that a lot of proposals are oriented toward spending and there is nowhere to get the money from,” said Vásquez.

Another challenge involves the broad new responsibilities granted to the armed forces, which have been tasked with running ports and airports, running an airline, and building a railroad through the Mayan jungle. Sheinbaum has said “there is no militarization” of the country, while suggesting she’s open to reevaluating the military’s involvement in public enterprises.

Beyond the domestic strains, Sheinbaum’s destiny will be intertwined with the outcome of the presidential election in the United States.

A reelection victory for President Joe Biden would provide continuity, but a return of Donald Trump to the White House would likely be far less predictable. Trump’s plans to round up people living in the country illegally on a vast scale and deport them to their home countries could target millions of Mexicans living in the United States. He has already threatened to slap 100% tariffs on Chinese cars made in Mexico.

Then there’s the festering issue of fentanyl, which cartels produce in Mexico using chemicals imported from China, the U.S. government says. Trump has suggested taking military action to combat the fentanyl trade.

Sheinbaum has said Mexico would have “good relations” with either Trump or Biden as president, and her campaign team has said it will continue to work to contain flows of migrants.

But handling such pressure from Washington, even in the form of incendiary campaign rhetoric, could prove complicated.

Voters expressed faith in Sheinbaum’s ability to deal with such challenges. Daniela Mendoza, 40, a psychologist who lives in Villahermosa, in Tabasco state, said she had long supported López Obrador, including during his previously unsuccessful bids to win the presidency.

Pleased with his social welfare programs, Mendoza voted for Sheinbaum.

“Claudia follows that line, perhaps with better ideas,” Mendoza said. “And having the first woman president in the country is an accomplishment.”

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 118. brb x oc

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. reblogs and comments are much appreciated <3

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102/103/104/105

/106/107/108/109/110/111/112/113/114/115/116/117

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

-

She was going to the pharmacy.

So what that she was stalling?

So what the time she did go was because Shells asked her to join in her grocery shopping?

So what that she kept looking at the pregnancy tests all stacked up like they were the only savior in an empty land and she was the castaway begging for help? So what that Nicole also found them nice - colorful boxes - and wanted to look closer? So what that Shells, if she saw it, would never live this down?

Beatrice could feel her headache coming back and she didn’t needed that now.

Nicole still reached for the colorful boxes thinking they were toys, so Beatrice had to walk away from that area to where Shells was, “Did you get everything?” Shells had so much stuff in her cart and was currently thumbing her phone, one hand holding her head up as she looked completely away from the situation, “Shells.”

Her blonde friend just stared down at the phone, laughing at some funny video she saw on Instagram and then going back to her neutral face.

“Oh for–Shells.” She shakes her shoulder which finally snaps the blonde back into reality, her eyes widening and looking around until she finds Beatrice’s gaze - and Nicole’s curious one - “Shells, did you get everything?”

“Huh? Oh,I think so?”

“You think so?”

“I mean yeah, I don’t have a list.” she shrugs casually, “There’s enough food for a month.”

But Beatrice didn’t seem amused, in fact she looked annoyed “Shells,there is a list. In your phone.” she points to the colorful case with her eyebrows still low, “For God’s sake just look into it, it’s in your notes.”

Shells blinked at Beatrice with a little smile, “Seesh,what bit into your ass this morning? Rooster?” Her friend’s cheeks turned red. “Nah, if it was him you’d be feeling over the moon,haha.”

“Shells.” Beatrice begins, “Just…check your list, please.”

“I will,I will…but really, what got you so,” Shells shakes her hands, “Iffy? You look ready to topple me if you weren’t holding Nikki.” and Beatrice felt bad, immediately relaxing her eyebrows and sighing, adjusting Nicole in her grasp.

“Just…an off day, is all.” more like an off week. 

“Hm.”

“Don’t ‘hm’ me.” Beatrice replies, holding Nicole close to her chest and trying her best to not look even more annoyed since her friend noticed her sour expression. it wasn’t Shells’ fault, she was right to call Bea out on her attitude, it wasn’t like she knew what was going on.

And she won’t know. At least not yet.

Because Beatrice was going to ignore it as much as she could, she wasn’t feeling sick anymore therefore there was no need for her to worry about it. “I’m just having an off day,I didn’t have my coffee this morning.” because she was too anxious and Rooster, bless him, believed her when she said she wasn’t that hungry and might go back to sleep after he left.

She didn’t and now she was cranky and wanted some toast.

“Oh so that’s why? Well you big baby, why didn’t you say so?” Shells chuckled, tossing some aspirins into her cart as if it was a basketball and she just made three points, “We can snack on something after we leave.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Ah ah ah! No,I want to.” Shells holds up her finger,”I want to and I will do that.”

Nicole reacted before her mother, throwing her little fists up and squealing happily at what her crazy aunt suggested, bouncing a bit in Beatrice’s arms “Mama! Buhu buh Buh!” she giggled, still bouncing and kicking her legs in such a way that melted Beatrice’s sourness immediately in a blink of an eye.

Beatrice just huffed out a gentle laugh, then nodded at Shells, “Alright, okay Shells.I’ll go with you.” anything to keep her mind out of…things.

She’s been with that thought ever since the weekend and now it’s Wednesday and Christmas is next week and she was still thinking about it. There was no way, no way she was pregnant.

You thought the same when you had Nicole,bambina.

But that was different!

She wasn’t taking her birth control shots then, and she was now. She wrote it down,she knew she went to the clinic. But in reality, she was scared…not to be a mom again, but scared about this being…too much if she was. She wants more kids, she knew that Rooster wanted more kids as well but not so soon,right?

God how would he react if she was pregnant?

What if that was enough to make him upset, because after all, she was taking the birth control shots so they weren’t worried about any other contraception besides it…Beatrice didn’t know how to break the news if the news were that, she didn’t want…him to worry, what if he got upset.

Ugh she shouldn’t be thinking about that.

Beatrice chooses to sniff Nicole’s hair, smiling at the sweet cotton flower scent that hung onto her strands.Their daughter was the cutest, sweetest smelling baby ever and everyone agreed, not only them. She was so happy to see Nicole wriggling about that she almost didn’t hear Shells calling her to the cashier.

After paying they went to a bakery close by, it wasn’t Rizzo’s but it was another good one…with fancy pastries that looked like they were worth more than her rent. She didn’t know why Shells chose this place, maybe because it was the closest one to the grocery store and Shells wasn’t feeling like driving too far.

Beatrice held Nicole close to her chest when they walked in, trying to not glare at the group of people that looked her way when they noticed the baby. It was one of those hip places that kids weren’t really often seen…nice.

Shells didn’t care, in fact she had a feeling if she noticed more people looking over she’d just bark at them - more like ‘zombie growl’, it worked many times before when dealing with creeps at the few college parties they’ve been to - and make them look away. Beatrice however was very thankful when the staff offered a booster seat to Nicole, her daughter trying to mimic the ‘thank you’ but it didn’t come out as an actual sentence.

“Ah!” Shells exclaimed once she sat down, propping her hands behind her head and crossing her legs under the table, “Nice place.”

“It is.” Beatrice smiles in thanks when the female server comes with the booster seat, Bea telling her that she could set it up - she didn’t want to prevent the girl from working after all - “Can you hold Nikki for me so I can set the seat up?”

“Yes!” Shells straightened her body and picked the little baby up, Nicole was still getting used to Shells - amazingly of all of Beatrice’s friends, it was her that Nikki was confused the most whenever she was around - but she did hold onto the blonde’s neck as Beatrice put the booster seat up, “Look at you, hi baby!” Shells coos, gently tickling the little girl’s tummy and smiling when she giggled, “You look so precious, yes you do- so, how are you feeling?”

“About what?” Beatrice was looking at the seat instead of Shells.

“About Nikki’s new buddy. Excited?”

It takes a few seconds for Beatrice to translate what Shells meant, the brunette genuinely stood still like a statue while looking at the ground in shock. Buddy? What buddy? Wait, was Shells suspicious? What if she was? What if Beatrice was showing more than she thought? Maybe she should test it sooner, maybe-

And then it hit her.

She was talking about Evelyn’s baby.

“Oh,ah,hah. I-I am excited…um,I know Ev is too.” and she hoped her voice wasn’t too shaky when she said that because Shells could identify the fear in her voice when she spoke, “You know she’s changed her mind on the baby shower and everything.”

“Yeah,I know, plus Nikki won’t be alone for too long,huh?”

Again Beatrice swallowed hard, then slapped on a smile before turning around to pick Nicole from Shells’ hands, “Ah, yeah,she won’t.”

“Mama!” Nicole wriggles a bit, kicking her little legs and smiling towards Beatrice, “Mama!’

“Yes,I know,honey, you’ll have….friends.” she swallowed again, then cleared her throat as she put Nicole in the booster seat and then sat down next to her, opening her bag to pick the baby food she always had on hand whenever they had to stop for a lunch break.

She didn’t look up at Shells again and her friend squinted her eyes, pursed her lips and tapped her finger on the table as she watched Beatrice. She knew her best friend way too well, it was easy to know when she was hiding something because Beatrice was an open book when it came to her expressions, “So…” she begins, opening the menu to check what was on that morning, “How…are you and Rooster?”

Beatrice flicks her eyes towards the other woman briefly,”Fine.” she answers, tying the bib around Nicole’s neck before popping the baby food container open, “We’re fine, how are you and Bob?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain, still enjoying the double act that Bob is…won’t go into detail because of the little one there but you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“But I mean…how are you guys? What was the reason for you to skip breakfast?”

Anxiety. “Nothing.” pure raw anxiety and fear, “Just didn’t feel like having it this morning.”

“And Rooster was okay with that? He’d probably feed you himself if he didn’t notice it…and he noticed it,I know he did.”

“Just woke up weird.” she murmurs, clicking the foldable spoon open to dip into the carrot puree and feed Nikki, her little daughter was already so excited she opened her mouth seconds before she could even see the spoon, “And I didn’t want him to worry, is all.”

“Bea.”

“What?”

“Are you hiding something?”

Was she? She didn’t even know if she was after all she REFUSED to take the test and be sure. She knew it’d be the right thing to do, but she was terrified…maybe if she talked to Rooster…maybe he’d calm her down?

Maybe she could also call her doctor to be sure, maybe even Hannah since that’s her job as well, “I’m not hiding anything.” it was…true. In a way, she didn’t know if she was hiding anything after all, “I’m just having an off day,I told you.”

“Well you just look…weird, that’s all.”

“I’m probably tired.” she throws the excuse in the air, “We’re getting ready for Christmas next week- are you coming,by the way?” quick,change the subject.

Shells tsked, looking to the side, “We’re visiting Bob’s family this year, maybe next year Bea. But I appreciate you inviting my aunt and Melia,I know they’ll have a lot of fun too.”

And after that they are going to Virginia, so she could set her plan in motion as well…there was so much in her brain and this sudden doubt wasn’t helping.

One more reason to test, bambina…what’s the worst that could happen?

She hated how her nonna’s disembodied voice was right. Beatrice sighed through her nose, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Yeah…they will. Anyway, we better eat something. Right?”

“Sure thing!”

-

She managed to get into the pharmacy without Shells noticing. How, one might ask, simply saying she needed to use the bathroom and if she could keep an eye on Nicole as she walked inside the supermarket while her friend stayed in the car far away from anyone’s view.

Beatrice’s hands were shaking after she paid for the three tests, shoving them so deeply in her bag that she almost hurt herself. And now she was just looking at the colorful boxes inside, biting her lower lip and formulating a plan.

“Okay.’ she begins, rubbing her temples and pacing back and forth, Nicole and the dogs following her with their eyes as she walked around the living room, “I can do it in the morning, when your dad isn’t here, then check…if it’s negative,I’ll just throw it away before he sees it…if it’s positive…” 

She’d have to tell Rooster, one way or another.

“He wouldn’t be mad,right?” she murmurs as she picks her bag up and opens a bit more, the tests were tucked under her wallet and keys, “He’d understand…he wants more kids.”

But oh…so soon? Remember…you were on birth control, or were you? Are you dumb and forgot? Probably.

Beatrice tsked, looking down at the tests “I will figure it out, there’s no need to worry-”

“Babe?”

Beatrice never threw her bag away from her so quickly, it slammed on the wall with a loud ‘thud!’ and slid behind the couch closest to the window, her eyes wide as the dogs hurried to the front door to greet Rooster and Nicole squealed the second she heard her father’s voice.

Normally Beatrice would pluck her up from her bouncer to greet Rooster as well, but she stood immobile like a fawn ready to be shot in the middle of their living room. She just stood there,wide eyed and silent, swallowing hard as she heard his boots on the floor.

His smiling face greeted her and he dropped everything he was holding, “My fuckin’ baby,c’mere.” he immediately rushed over to her, picking her up from under her ass and kissing her lips repeatedly. Beatrice made a sound of surprise but kissed him back,laughing as he kept their lips locked.

‘Rooster!” she giggles when he breaks away, “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” he replies, pecking her lips again, “I just had to kiss you, fuck you are so beautiful and you are always so hot, I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Dada!”

Both of them looked at Nicole who just appeared to be distraught because she was left out, “Oh,my birdie I’m so sorry.” he gently put Beatrice down, tapping her ass cheeks with his hands before he turns around to pick Nicole up, kissing her soft cheeks and grinning against her skin when she started to giggle, “I missed your cute little laugh too, yes I did!”

God that scene was too cute.

And it could repeat itself before- she snapped her gaze to the couch where her bag was behind, then back towards Rooster, she had to grab it before he found it in some way, “How was work?”

“Work was,” he lifts Nicole above his head, smiling at her squealed laugh,”Great, I talked to Mav, he’s coming next week and he said he’s bringing me a gift.”

“A gift?”

‘Yes, to me specifically. I don’t know what it is but it seems important.”

Beatrice’s worry dimmed into a smile when her husband said that, it was so sweet that Pete was trying his best to connect with Rooster again and she knew Bradley appreciated it more than he showed. His eyes were shining a lot more too, it was just a matter of time until they got back to what they were used to, “That’s great Roos.”

“Yeah,oh,also,we need to go Christmas shopping.” he adds, “We didn’t yet.”

“...oh my God you are right. We need to go this weekend.” he looked so happy when he said that too, she didn’t know why but he was almost beaming.

“it’ll be our very first Christmas,together,as a family.” he whispered, his eyelids lowering as he looked at Nikki, her tiny hands touching his face and he, in turn,kissed those minuscule palms of hers and nuzzled her skin, “...I…I’m excited for it.”

She felt terrible because of course he’d be happy.

She remembers him saying that he hadn’t celebrated Christmas in a long while when they got together, especially with a family. It was one thing to share with Mav and her own relatives, it was something else entirely when it came to them. To Bea,Rooster,Nicole and the dogs, their little circle, their little family bubble.

Of course he’d be happy and excited and ready to have a great Christmas with them.

Beatrice’s smile softened and she approached him, kissing his jawline,”I know,I’m excited too…” she also wanted to push him away from the living room,”Anyway…hungry?I can make us dinner.” and she looks back at the couch as they walk away, furrowing her brows.

[apenitentialprayer]

Fray Bartolomé de las Casas, by Felix Parra, 1875.

The saints are the true interpreters of Holy Scripture. The meaning of a given passage of the Bible becomes most intelligible in those human beings who have been totally transfixed by it and have lived it out. Interpretation of Scripture can never be a purely academic affair, and it cannot be relegated to the purely historical. Scripture is full of potential for the future, a potential that can only be opened up when someone "lives through" and "suffers through" the sacred text.

Pope Benedict XVI (Jesus of Nazareth: From the Baptism in the Jordan to the Transfiguration, page 78). Bolded emphases added.

Bartolomé de las Casas was born in Seville, Spain, in 1484. At age eighteen, he came to the newly "discovered" lands, and five years later he was ordained as a priest in Rome. As an encomendero, he owned indigenous people who worked for him in the gold mines. Although he claims he treated them kindly and fed them, he acknowledged that he neglected teaching them the Christian faith. He was also a horrified eyewitness to a massacre of Cuban natives by invading Spaniards. [… But t]he text that was at the center of Bartolomé de las Casas' "conversion" is Sirach 34. In April 1514 he read this text in preparation to preach to the Spaniards who came to the new world to establish new villages. The passage immediately challenged his current privileges as an encomendero. By his own admission, he read these verses in light of the situation of the indigenous people working for him in the Indies and realized that he was living in darkness; he was blind to the fact that he had become a tyrant who treated people unfairly. Thus, Bartolomé de las Casas embraced the mission of "preaching against injustice in order to bring light to those dominated by the darkness of ignorance" [History of the Indies]. His audience comprised people unable to realize the injustice behind their actions against the indigenous people, "such was and still is their blindness." He then proceeded to preach sermons against the oppression of indigenous people and to highlight their deplorable condition. His words were later followed by his decision to give up his "right" to possess slaves. His fellow Spaniards were in shock: "Everyone was surprised, even astonished, to hear this, and some walked away remorseful while others thought they had been dreaming — the idea of sinning because one used Indians was as incredible as saying man could not use domestic animals." [… In 1543] he was named bishop of Chiapas. The authority attached to this position allowed him to engage in official debates with those defending the use of violence in the evangelization of indigenous people, such as Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda (1551). After a fruitful life defending indigenous people in Spain and in the new world with his pen and his preaching, de las Casas died in Madrid at age eighty-two.

Carlos Raúl Sosa Siliezar ("Scripture's Impact on Bartolomé de las Casas' Theology: Lessons for the Interpretation of Key Johannine Themes"). Bolded emphases added.

Ill-gotten goods offered in sacrifice are tainted. Presents from the lawless do not win God's favor. The Most High is not pleased with the gifts of the godless, nor for their many sacrifices does He forgive their sins. [As] One who slays a son in his father's presence — [so is] whoever offers sacrifice from the holdings of the poor. The bread of charity is life itself to the needy; whoever withholds it is a murderer. To take away a neighbor's living is to commit murder; to deny a laborer wages is to shed blood.

the Book of Sirach (34:21-27)

[melishade]

Number 78?

This ask game

asked so far.

Hey look, more Dark Timeline Stuff. Optimus, Gabi and Porco being imprisoned together by Shockwave in Part 5

Optimus continued to stare up at the dark ceiling of Shockwave's ship, ignoring the pain and agony that he was in. He pulled at the restraints holding his limbs, but they wouldn't budge from the electric cuff binding him to the berth. He needed more strength and he didn't have much left to spare.

The Prime had lost track of how many days he had been stuck on Shockwave's ship, and he had no idea if the Survey Corps and Megatron had returned to the island safely. From his observations and Shockwave's mannerisms, he didn't think Shockwave had them. And if Shockwave didn't, then the Prime couldn't help but be grateful.

However, he wasn't the only prisoner of Shockwave.

Optimus turned his helm to the side to see Gabi and Porco in their prisons: small glass containers with little room to even stretch their legs. The Prime saw how loose their clothes were and how hollow their faces looked. Both were malnourished and weak. Shockwave no doubt had uses for them, but the fact that he was starving them was cruel and ineffective on the mad scientist's part. Gabi was still awake, her face stained with dry tear marks, but Porco's body was completely unconscious, spent from the experiments Shockwave had done to him. He's been unconscious for hours, and he didn't know if he was dead at this point due to his condition. His regeneration was-!

Porco screamed in fear as he jolted awake, scaring Gabi and causing Optimus to flinch. "What happened?! Where am I?!"

"Porco, you are alright," Optimus reassured calmly, "You are still alive."

Porco seemed to calm down as he took in his surroundings and remembered where he was. He looked over at Optimus and sneered before turning around and hunching his back in his cramped space.

"Porco-!"

"Damn it, Gabi! I'm not in the mood to talk!" Porco snapped at her.

"But-!" Gabi recoiled at Porco's outburst.

"Gabi, leave him be," Optimus advised her, causing Porco to blink in confusion.

Gabi glanced back at Porco before slumping against the glass of her own prison in defeat. Optimus then turned his attention to the ceiling once more, trying to remember Shockwave's patterns and habits. He knew Shockwave was methodical, but even he has made the occasional slip up. There has to be something in his routine that would allow an opening for all three of them to escape.

"Um...sir..." Optimus turned to the sound of Gabi weakly calling out to him.

"What's....what's a Matrix?" She had timidly asked, "And who's Primus and Unicron?"

Right, the conversations that he and Shockwave have had no doubt left the girl confused about the logistics and creation of their home world. "It is...a long and complicated story, Gabi."

"...please," Gabi begged in a whisper, "Please tell me."

Optimus stared into her pleading eyes and felt pity for her. She needed a distraction. She needed a distraction from the pain and torment of her current situation. "Alright then."

Porco couldn't help but glance back in suspicion.

"In the beginning of the universe, there was 'The One': an amorphous being of light created by the universe's chaotic creation. It had traveled the universe, seeing both the creation and destruction of said universe. Over time, The One had experienced internal conflict within it's being. Part of The One believed that the life created in this vast universe was sacred. It deserved to live, it deserved to be protected. There was beauty in what was created and had every right to exist and be free. However, the other half of The One, saw no use in living and creation. It saw everything as weaker than it, frailer than it. It found no point in existence and living if everything was eventually fated to die. No being should suffer the cruelty of living and waste their life, only to have everything they ever worked for destroyed by the ravages of time. The One could not handle the every growing conflict raging within its very being. It ended up tearing itself apart until The One split into two beings. Primus: the god of creation, and Unicron: the god of destruction."

Optimus noticed the way that Gabi was enamored with his story telling and continued. "Unicron and Primus went their separate ways, and Unicron started to enact his plan to destroy all life in the universe. Primus saw the destruction his brother was causing and swore to stop him at all costs. The had battled for eons to come, evenly matched in their might and battle prowess. Primus knew that he could not face Unicron alone, so he used his power to create thirteen unique beings called 'Primes'."

"What were they like?" Gabi asked, "What were their names?"

"There was Prima: the leader of the Primes. Vector: a Prime that could control and rewrite time. Alpha Trion was a historian, who wrote both past and future events. Onyx was an animalistic Prime, who held features that would resemble that of a dragon. Nexus was a combiner: a being made up of five other Cybertronians. Alchemist was something of a wizard, and that the ability to control organic elements. Micronus was small, but mighty, adorned with the gift of infinite energy at his disposal. Amalgamous was the first of our kind with the ability of transformation, never restricted to one form with his T-Cog. Solus was a forge master who could create weapons with a swing of her hammer. Quintus was the dreamer, a scientist who wanted to challenge what was possible in the universe. Liege Maximo was a Prime skilled with his words. Megatronus was a Prime of strength and fury. The last Prime, Thirteen, has little information recorded about him."

Optimus noticed the way that Gabi's expression was in awe. She was marveling the story he was telling. "Initially, there was tension and hostility amongst the Primes, but they had learned to come together and work as one. They learned of their strengths and weaknesses and how to protect each other. Together, the Thirteen had valiantly faced Unicron together. Their battle was not without struggle and close calls, but the Primes had shut down his spark and casted Unicron out. Not to be seen again until millions of eons later."

"That all sounds made up," Porco interjected, "What kind of bullshit nonsense is that?"

Optimus sighed a little. "Part of me wishes it was."

Porco was about to speak up, but Gabi straightened her back out. "Tell me more. Please?"

Optimus noticed the way her eyes shined with happiness before nodding to her. "Of course."

(So 80 has been asked, but the rest is free game.)