#did your husband get cursed Cecil?

[asydicsydney]

My favorite silly science squad: Carlos Robles, Nilanjana Sildar, Blake Jones, and new addition, Harrison Kip (who can't remember his families names)

[midnightshindig]

hii, could you do wife!fem!reader x cecil stedman headcanons? it can be sfw and nsfw if you want. maybe housewife reader? i dont care if it isn´t that way.

i hope you can work with this, pls stay hydrated and sorry for my bad english.

Cecil x Housewife!Reader

You're all good, I am so hydrated and your English is perfectly fine lol

This is an sfw fic with a fem reader who used she/her, thank youuuu

hcs under the cut!

You'd been married LONG before Cecil became head of the GDA

College sweethearts and all that

You were maybe the only normal thing in his life anymore, the only true remnant of his normal past.

Cecil is a WIFE MAN

Proudly wears his wedding band and has a nice photo of you in his office

Of course your name and marital status to him is scrubbed from the internet and government files

but to those in the GDA or the GotG, you're just Y/n Stedman, Mrs. Stedman if you will, Cecil's super cute super sweet wife

You send Cecil to work with food for his coworkers

You KEEP that office fridge stocked

Company parties are the best, you're just such a good cook omg

Everyone gets you stuff for your birthday bc they just adore you

In private, Cecil is a very sweet man

Kissing your knuckles, swaying with you in the living room, all that.

He comes home to you doing the dishes and walks right up behind you, his hands wrapping around your stomach and his chin on your shoulder

"Hey Y/n, how was your day?"

"Better now," you twist your head back to give his cheek a kiss "How was yours?"

He gives a soft smile before leaning into you a little more "Better now."

You probably have a pet of some kind, since any children you do or do not have are well in college by now

A little one, a cat or small dog

Cecil is enthused about the idea of getting you a dog

"It'll keep you safe while I'm gone"

it would be a romantic notion if you weren't under constant protection

but shhhhhh here look at this cute puppy what do you want to name him?

Cecil looooves coming home to seeing you reading a book on the couch

or tending to your flower garden out in the yard

or cooking dinner or painting or playing games with the dog and everything you do while he's gone

Sometimes Cecil comes home to you entertaining guests- usually friends from college or neighborhood women

Still, the two of you are a cute couple and your friends are so amused by him

"Y/n, your husband is such a card!" and things to that effect

Cecil has to teleport a lot for his job, so don't be surprised when he comes home with chocolates from Sweden or cheese or something or some small trinket

He likes giving you shiny things.

Consider him a bit of a magpie, if you will

does that police husband thing where he gives you contraband unable to be returned to villains

"hi honey, I'm home! I brought you a confiscated amulet!"

"Did you get it checked for curses or supernatural things this time? I don't need another trip to the barber-"

"yes, dear, I had them check it."

You come out from the bathroom, adjusting your earring and examining it "Oh it's beautiful!!"

"I thought you would like it, here I'll put it on you-"

And then he takes you to dinner and you're so beautiful and charming

he is a wife guy for sure.

[countrymusiclover]

26 - Dealing with the Evil Queen

Part 27

The Siphoning Princess

Tag list [ @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @onentaien-kwara @maximedallas @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Once Charming and I had exited the pawnshop I noticed a scowl on my husband’s face and I knew it wasn't going to be good. Leaning my back against the red shop door I dropped my shoulders starting the tense conversation. “I'll save you the trouble of asking the question and just admit what I have done. That should make this go a lot faster for everybody. I asked my father to summon a Wraith to kill the Evil Queen by taking her soul.”

“Jaide! Are you crazy? What if it hurts people to get to Regina?” He raised his voice at me.

Raising my hands in the air I wasn’t going to run from a fight even when it’s against my lover. “David, listen to me. I had every right to kill that woman. She - she took everything from us. We missed Emma’s whole entire life, Cecile was forced to think the Huntsman was her father and we were forced to be apart cause Regina made you be married to Snow White.”

He trailed off meeting my gaze. “Jaide-“

“Charming I know when you look at me you only see the love of your life who told you she doesn’t want to be seen as a monster simply because my father is the Dark One. I have made you believe that I don’t have any dark side within me but that isn’t true.” Shaking my head I blinked through some tears, tucking hair behind my ear. “It’s not true, I am my fathers daughter. I am the Dark One's daughter and that means that I am going to do things that you would look at me differently for.”

My husband dropped his gaze to his boots waiting a minute before he closed the distance between us, cupping my face in his hands. “I know who you are, Jaide Stilskin. There’s nothing that could make me not love you anymore.”

“Are you disagreeing with me on the fact that Regina has to pay for what she’s done?”

My prince locks his eyes onto mine, surprising me by his next words that came out of his mouth. “I agree with you. Regina ripped our family apart and she nobody has the right to judge us.”

“We just can’t tell Henry or Cecile. They’re too young to understand what we’re doing.” Nodding my head we heard the shop door open seeing our daughters walk out together. They kept holding hands when Emma suggested.

“We should send Henry and Cecile with Ruby. Just in case something goes wrong. They shouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.” David and I agreed and watched her make the phone call to the woman we knew as Red Riding Hood.

“We need to talk, Emma.” Clasping my hands together I watched my oldest daughter walking back over to us after sending Cecile and Henry off with Ruby.

My daughter glanced around in nervousness. “I… Well, I don’t… I just… I don’t want to talk.”

“I know that we have talked. But, we didn’t know that we were talking. And we talked about things we probably shouldn’t even have talked about – one night stands and the like.” Charming cut me off short asking.

“One night stands?”

Lowering my gaze I felt my face turn red in embarrassment. “The huntsman, Graham.”

David raised his voice at me. “Graham?!”

“We were cursed. That is neither here, no there. The point is, we did not know that we were mother and daughter and, now, we do. And, so…” I trailed off reading her face that says she doesn’t want to talk right now but everything was different from when she had accepted me as her mother. “I know this must all come as a shock especially after I told you I had sent you away once I had woken up from the curse. That was hard for you and I understand that but - but now I’m standing here ready for any questions you have for your father and I.”

Emma sighed, clicking her tongue. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“We’re together – finally. And I can’t help but think you’re not happy about it.”Charming touches my hand yet I didn’t put my hand in his.

Emma blinked through tears and my heart broke thinking about my own mother. I was left on my father’s castle doorstep and never got a real explanation from my father of the reason why she gave me away. “Oh, I am. But, see… Here’s the thing – no matter what the circumstances, for twenty-eight years I only knew one thing. That my parents sent me away.” Now standing before me was my own daughter and I was forced to do the thing I swore I would never do to my children.

Sucking in a small breath I hoped she would understand after giving up her own son. “We did that to give you your best chance.”

“You did it for everyone, because that’s who you are. Leaders, heroes, princes, and princesses, and that’s great. A-And amazing. And wonderful. But it doesn’t change the fact that, for my entire life, I’ve been alone.”

“But, if we hadn’t sent you away, you would’ve been cursed, too.” I reminded her remembering it was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life.

My daughter shoved her hands inside her red leather jacket. “Then why wasn’t my sister sent through with me?”

“That’s uh - complicated.” Her father trailed off not sure how to answer her.

“I wouldn’t have felt so alone if you had sent her with me. We could have been there for each and not be completely different ages and feeling odd about the whole curse thing.” She slumped her shoulders walking around us and heading to the sheriff station where we had locked the evil queen up. “Come on, let’s go kill this thing.”

Charming reached down, grasping my hand near his own, squeezing our intertwined hands together where he kissed the side of my forehead. “It’s going to be okay, Jaide.”

Emma had informed us that she had made a promise to Henry meaning that we had to not allow the creature I had summoned to kill the Evil Queen. Regina had retrieved Jefferson’s hat from her office and now we had a plan to send the soul sucker to another realm so it wouldn’t kill the evil queen. Emma and Regina were inside a closed area attempting to get the hat to work. Placing my hand on the wooden railing I muttered the word under my breath. “Incendia.” Suddenly the whole railing lit up with flames that would shield them from the Wraiths attack until they were ready for it. “ It’s not working!”

Emma shouted at the woman messaging with the hat. “What is the problem.”

“Magic… It’s different here.” Regina told her.

Rolling my eyes I heard my husband fighting it off with the end of a broomstick that was on fire. “Does the siphoning princess need to come help you, your majesty!”

“I don’t need any comments from you, little dark one!” The evil queen turned her head around glaring at me.

My husband took a few more swings at the monster until it knocked him out of the way and was flying straight toward the two woman. “Now would be the time!” Emma touches Regina’s shoulder, which seems to trigger Regina’s magic. The hat begins to spin and the purple vortex appears.

“It’s coming!” The wraith gets past David’s defense and charges towards Regina and the hat.

“Regina!” Emma pushes Regina out of the way, causing the wraith to fall through the portal. However, on the way down, it grabs Emma’s ankle and drags her through the portal, as well.

“No!” Charming and I screamed in horror in unison together.

Climbing over the railing I leaped off the wood ledge and jumped right into the portal without thinking about anyone else but my oldest daughter. “I’m not losing her again.”

“Neither am I!” Charming declared about to follow me through the hat yet it suddenly closed and his body fell on top of the torn up old hat.

Blinking my eyes a couple of times everything around me was very blurry for a few until I gave my body the time to adjust. Rolling over onto my back I groaned, putting a hand to my forehead and when I drew it back I saw blood on my fingers. “Oh that's not good - Emma - Em-” I began calling out my daughter's name, lifting my head to look around yet a cold blade was pushed down onto my throat causing me to freeze.

“Well who do you think you are boarding my ship without asking hmm.” A man with black and dark eyes stared down at me.

Shifting my gaze away from him it took me a minute to recall where I had seen this man before in my past life and then it came to me. “Captain Hook!” Baring my teeth his silver hook in the place of where his other hand used to be wasn't too hard to miss. He was the man that my father hated.

[zero-insignificance]

DND Recap: HALT, you violated the law!

Cast includes: Rose the DM, Bob (yours truly), Patrick, Truk, and Zara

We open in The Marriot Hotel.

It's breakfast time!

Truk has been there for a few hours staring at a tower of sausage rolls. Bob is scarfing down 16 omelets. Zara is vibing with the child we kidnaped from the scp universe, now known as Morticia Frump. Patrick is in the corner

Bob is wandering around and sees a banned from hotel wall with one photo on it. Rose: It is a photo of Fluffy Scruffington diving into the chocolate fountain. Me: Is there just a blur of Alfie rushing forward? Rose: Yes.

Me: So, in the background Alfie is dragging out a Fluffy Scruffington who is covered in chocolate going "Goddammit Fluffy this is the 6th Marriott you've gotten us banned from-"

Bob: Bye future husband! *continues eating omelets*

Omelets are one of bob's favorite foods and they are the only foods he can reliably make without cursing anyone.

Patrick pops a memory marble and his skin changes playing out a memory of him talking to a tall, elegant woman with black hair and regal features. She's in a skimpy velvet dress and she's very charismatic. He's making a deal with her.

Bob's eyes go wide, and he has an omelet halfway in his unhinged jaw.

Patrick: What the fuck was that? Zara: Are you good? Bob: *quiet* Patrick: Uh Bob? What the fuck? Do you know that was? Bob: *swallows the omelet and coughs* uh that was a woman by the name of Severa Whitmore. She... owns your soul. That's why you have demon sight. Patrick: Is that what it is? Wait you don't own my soul? Bob: No. I don't. I just took your memories as a favor for her. Zara: BOB! Bob: I'm SORRY. I was evil at the time! I'm not anymore! I'm in recovery! I'm trying to be better... Patrick: I need to remember. I can't keep popping one every day. Bob what happens if I take a whole bunch at once. Bob: Your mind might explode? Patrick: Might? I like those odds. *takes 50 at once* Bob: Oh, Alfie is going to kill me-

Memories flash across Patricks skin, so fast it doesn't make sense to most of us. Zara cover's Morticia's eyes to preserve childhood innocence (no wonder Morticia Frump one day to be Addams is the way she is) and in the end letters appear on Patrick's arm

“You must regain what once I lost. Only then will you regain the soul I owned"

We are told to make an intelligence check. Zara got a 7, the child got a 17. They fail and everyone else succeeded. So, the party puts together that Severa probably lost someone and wants them back and by getting them back Patrick gets his soul back.

Patrick: Bob where did you first meet Severa? Me: Hang on let me use a random town generator... Rose: *insert town name I forgot* Me: Rosepeak. Rose: Never mind we're using that name cuz I have to stroke my ego.

Bob: The town of Rosepeak. We met at the Tulip which burned down and then rebuilt it calling it the Second Tulip. It's be rebranded Hotel Cecil style so it's called the Dandelion now.

Police: HALT. YOU'RE UNDER ARREST- Zara: *runs with the child* Truk: MY KID Bragar: *cried himself to sleep after getting traumatized by Phillip* I got you, my King. *picks up Truk and bolts in Barbarian Monk* Bob: What the fuck? Zara: *running* YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE- Patrick: Why are you running. WHY ARE YOU RUNNING. Bob: Alfie Alfie Alfie. Alfie: *holding a newborn Sora and clearly exhausted* What. Bob: Can you get us all to Rosepeak? Alfie: *sighs* sure. *snaps fingers*

Me: So, everyone is now in Rosepeak and Zara slams face first into a tree. and Alfie is like "what the fuck happened while I was gone?" Bob: Shenanigans. We killed my ex. Alfie: Which one. Bob: Phillip. Alfie: Nice. Zara's player: The child was being piggybacked so she's okay. Me: How much bludgeoning damage? Rose: What's your movement speed? Zara's player: 30? Rose: You take 20 points of bludgeoning damage. Truk's player: Truk ends up in the tree. Bragar is fine. Patrick's player: Patrick was in pursuit on a moped.

Alfie: Who's the child? Who's white baby is that? Who's the dad? Truk: I guess that would be me. Alfie: You'll be a good dad. Truk: *tears up* Alfie: do you want me to baby sit? Truk: Yes. This may not be safe for her. Zara: *hesitant to hand over her baby* Alfie: I promise she will be okay.

Zara hands her over and Alfie says "I'm your Uncle Alfie. and you're going to be okay" (nice little parallel to when Alfie first met his uncle turned dad fresh off a concussion at 4 years old) "I'll be sure to get her back to you without time travel shenanigans."

Alfie teleports back to Equestria and takes good care of little Morticia along with Sora who is currently known as Pine.

Zara: Bob, can I burn down the Dandelion? Truk: Zara. No. Bob: ... *flashbacks to the dandelion being where he met Phillip* hm. *whispers* On our way out, yes. Use a disguise.

Patrick looks around and finds himself drawn down an alleyway. Bob follows closely and everyone else follows after.

Eventually we will find ourselves outside a derelict house. It's clearly been abandoned for a long time. Bob: This is some white people in a horror movie shit.

Patrick enters the building.

Bob: This really is some horror movie shit- *enters backwards* Truk: Yeah this is some horror movie shit. Zara: *nervous* we'll be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine! Bragar: I'll stand guard.

As we enter, we see that this place was very lived in. There are framed photos on all of the walls. Each with Severa in the photo and one specific person in each photo is torn out.

They move further into the house eventually making it to the living room. The place is old and disheveled. The furniture worn and partially eaten by moths, the curtains a tattered stained brown.

And Bob finds a face down photo frame by the couch partially under it. He picks it up finding that the glass is shattered. And in the photo Severa is clearly with a man.

David Tennant type with short black hair and deep brown eyes.

Me: Are they in an embrace? Patrick's Player: Yes. Bob: I'm going to guess that these two are together. Rose: The way they’re aggressively making in the makes you think they might tolerate each other. Everyone: XD

Patrick finds himself drawn upstairs and Bob hesitantly follows. Bob: If there's a psycho killer I'm tripping you.

Truk and Zara also follow, Bragar stays guard. We make it to a bedroom, passing the most atrocious wallpaper. There is a clear sign of grief in this room. It feels sad and like something has clearly ended here.

On the bedside table there is an envelope and a letter sitting open

It's a letter saying goodbye to Severa saying that Michael is leaving her, that he found someone else, that it's over and he hopes she can find someone too.

There’s a cheesy soap opera playing on the tv and sad violin music on a gramophone, cartons of ice cream everywhere.

One of them is mint chip and Truk darts over but it is very empty. There is a thing of hidden valley ranch ice cream in the fridge that's still working.

Patrick picks up the letter and immediately drops it as memories flood and the letter feels like it's burning him. All of a sudden, we feel a hostile presence in the room, and it clearly wants us to leave.

The photo is knocked out of Bob's hand by an unseen force and the photo falls out of the frame, landing face down revealing the name "Michael Whitmore"

Bob says the name out loud and we are told to roll a constitution saving throw.

Everyone fails, including Truk who's base constitution is currently a 30 cuz he's ascending to godhood.

And we are met with scenes from our lives. People we've lost and the funerals we've attended. Whether it be Viking funerals, burials, or the scattering of ashes. Bob and Truk fight this because the trauma is too fresh especially for Truk and Bob isn't ready to face it yet. He's still processing the fact that he is very traumatized and attending dream therapy sessions with Alfie. Zara faces it seeing death as a natural part of life and Patrick is being overwhelmed with the memories he lost. The people he lost. In each scene it zooms out to show a tall gaunt woman looking on with the spirits of everyone we lost behind her.

Bob and Truk manage to break out of it and Zara and Patrick are in a trance. Truk curls on the floor cuz trauma and Bob pokes Patrick with a stick which snaps him out of his trance. Zara is still in her trance. Patrick shakes her out of it and grabs her and the photo and books it. Bob busts out the boarded up bedroom window and does a tuck and roll to the ground landing in a superhero pose.

Bob checks on Bragar cuz they've got a trauma bond. Bragar retrieves a very traumatized Truk. Truk pulls himself together and just goes "I'm fine" in a very stoic tone.

We head back into town, most of the party still shaken and go into a tavern that is NOT the Dandelion (that place waters down their drinks) Bragar wants to get drunk but can't cuz poison immunity. Bob has a poison immunity but can get drunk cuz he wants to and can sober up Good Omens style. What's more chaotic than defying biology?

Truk: I- I need to get drunk. And we have fun with magical drinks. Patrick is sober. He only gets mocktails

Bob got zooted. He's on Marijuana, booze and the first cocktail he got was a whiskey with hallucinogens in it so he's just chasing invisible bubbles around the tavern and having a good time~

Zara got a lucky leprechaun shot and her charisma is a 20 for the next hour. She spends that hour texting the girl she met in Philly.

Truk has a sailor's spirit and he just says YARR at the end of every sentence. So randomly throughout the tavern there is the sound of a very Russian YARR coming from different places in the tavern.

Eventually Truk and Bob are like "give me the strongest shit you have." And the guy gives us a bottle of regular whiskey and we're like no way that's the strongest liquor here. So he brings out a bottle of LIQUID NITROGEN "normally we only bring this out when the frost giants come to visit" and Truk pounds it and Bob has one of those crazy bendy straws.

They're perfectly fine.

Eventually Bob sobers up and they head to the cemetery because that's where they say Micheal is.

Truk goes into the Nap Sack, Truk's player now plays as Bragar for the rest of the session.

So Bob greets the cemetery spirit guard, and leaves an offering at the entrance to the graveyard (graveyard etiquette) and we enter, looking for the caretaker.

Crotchety Old Bastard, the demigod. He just wants to die but he can't.

Crotchety Old Bitch: *thickest jankiest Glasgow accent* MIND THE GREASE MATE YOU'RE STEPPIN ON ME POPPIES-

Bob: Don't worry. I speak crotchety old bitch. He says "What do you whippersnappers want"

Crotchety old bitch also says that us young people have no respect and Bob is just like "I'm over 100,000 years old."

We are told that if we're going to do grave robbing we have to put the body back in the end.

Turns out Michael Whitmore has been dead for years and we are pointed in the direction of his grave. Something is keeping him from being revived and Truk has a meeting with the gods holding up a lovely photo of the woman Bob drew asking who she is.

Emira Dux is the name of the lady

We say the name three times and lightning crackles in the sky and ravens and crows swarm and Emira Dux stands before us... In her pajamas?

She gets changed

Bob immediately compliments her dress

Truk is drunkenky like "I'm so sorry this is how we met" and she's like "it's chill."

Apparently she made the dress herself.

We ask if we can have Micheal and she immediately tenses

"I'm not letting him be revived"

End of session.

[blue-m-d]

Thank You

HR Wells x reader

A/N: I was listening to Thank You by Pentatonix as I thought about this. And let me tell you I cried writing this. so if you read while listening to the song it makes the feels.. lets just say that I needed some tissues

***

It was almost seven and just like last four christmas eve’s, you were running late to pick up the gift and the special cup of coffee. Even if people thought it was kind of crazy of you to keep doing that after everything that happened. You didn’t care what those people thought. Because what brought you and him the most joy, was when you both started rambling throughout those years about the christmas presents and decorations. Talking about the perfect gifts for everyone, specially for each other… that was yours and HR’s way of keeping the joy and happiness to the team.

And it was what brought you both closer to each other, talking about starting the tradition together and keep it going within your children and grandchildren. All surrounded by Cisco’s, Caitlin’s, Wally’s, Joe’s and Iris and Barry’s children. Together as the big family you already were, but the one that you were going to become too.

You finally got to the shop to pick up “the gift”. You received a “Merry Christmas” from Mr. And Mrs. Denton, and old married couple you and HR met four years ago. You always bought everyones present from that shop so you knew each other, and you had come to care for them as if they were your own grandparents. In their shop you could find all handmade and unique stuff so it was perfect for each and every time you wanted something special to gift to your loved ones. You gave the old married couple a thank you and left the shop, not before giving them a present and a small smile. As you were going towards CC Jitters to buy the cups of coffee, you realized that there was a small note on a card that was attached to the gift.

“Tell him we wish you both a very warm and happy christmas. And that we are giving you all the care he told us he would’ve liked his parents could’ve given to you. Hope this photo brings back that joy and happy smile it brought to us that day. Merry Christmas, Y/N”.

It was indeed a photo the old couple had taking from you and HR the first time you went to their shop to start the Christmas tradition. You could clearly remember that day, and also the wall that kept you several minutes in awe as you watched all those smiles together. That day you and HR bought almost one of everything the old couple had inside their shop. And seeing those big smiles you stole from each other whenever you caught the perfect present for one of your love ones. And the way you and HR chatted about what gift would be better to whom… It was hard for the old couple to not smile at each other. Knowing quite well how that felt as they themselves did the same thing the first year of their marriage when they were almost as young as you and HR were.

When the old couple asked you both if they could take a photo of you to hang in their “happy married couple’s wall” you both couldn’t stop the blushing and as flustered as you were when you took a glance at HR’s red cheeks and big smile, you told them you were not married. You had started dating just some months before that christmas. The couple was a bit surprised to hear that, but not at all when they heard HR tell to himself “…yet.”. You didn’t hear that word because you were focused looking through your bag to pay for the last gift. It was for HR, so it was already wrapped so he wouln’t see what is was as he waited beside you.

To try and lift the awkwardness of the moment, HR made the inside joke about a small Wells with your eyes and graciousness, and you followed with “the twins will have your eyes and wonderful hair”. You both laughed and stared at each other with big happy smiles. What you both didn’t realize was that the other wanted that future for themselves with the other. Even if in both your minds you thought that it was too soon to talk about it.

That memory made you shed some tears, because that was the exact smile and moment the photo was taken.

You were almost at the door of CC Jitters where Barry, Iris, and Caitlin were waiting for you. So you tried to erase any trace of tears out of your face so they wouldn’t worry. When they saw you they each gave you a big hug. You hugged back and as you picked up the coffee cups they told you that the twins were with Joe, Cecile and baby Jenna at the West house. You said goodbye as you promised to be at the West-Allen loft as soon as possible.

You went to pick up the twins to take the present you three together.

Joe opened the door and as you greeted him, you saw the twins making funny faces to baby Jenna making her laugh. “They truly are amazing, like big brothers to baby Jenna” said Joe with a smile that showed how proud and happy he felt. “Yes, they are. A gift from heaven…”. Joe noticed the note in your voice, and gave you a small smile as he called the boys. You helped them put their scarfs, mittens and their overcoat on so you could get going.

“Can we get four Big Belly Burgers?” they asked as you entered the drivers seat after securing them with the seatbelts. You looked back to those baby blues that were shining with hope. They bring back that warmth you feel whenever you think about his eyes. “Are you going to share your fries like last year, honey?”. “Yes, ma’am.” “Well then we are going to Big Belly Burger to get them.”

They started chatting cheerfully with each other after that. They always get hungry when you start towards the road. Usually when you do get Big Belly Burger, they cannot wait to get home and start eating the food before you even get near the house. But just as last year, their excitement and joy to tell him a lot of things, kept them from eating before getting to the end of your small ride.

Just as you pull over, the memories rush back at you, and you curse this past year for not being able to come as often as you always did. Most of the special occations in which you came here, your throat closed up so it didn’t let you tell him a lot. But you still stayed there wanting his company.

The boys saw you get a bit sad, and they looked at each other remembering what they agreed some weeks ago. As you three walked towards the place, each one of you with something to share. You arrived, and greeted him with a Merry Christmas. You gave him his cup of coffee, one of the boys the present, and the other distributed the food to the four of you.

“Ma’am, can you sing the song from that band we heard on the radio the past month?” one of them asked you. As you remembered the song they were talking about, your eyes filled with tears, but you tried to calm yourself and started singing.

“Oh, Lord, it’s been a year. With little joys and little fears. It’s finally here, Christmas day. My love, I need some hope… A little faith, a hand to hold”

As you sang that last phrase, your boys took your hands in their little ones. You fought back the tears as you realized it. Smiling to them, you continued singing.

“It’s awfully cold, Christmas day. Watch the snow fall down like me sometimes.”

You look at his drumsticks. “But you pick me up, and then pick me up again.

Like winter leaves I can’t survive, without your light.” Your boys look up at you as you watch him all over their faces. That same smile and those same beautiful baby blue eyes.

“Thank you for your smile, it’s warmer than the fire.” Your boys smile bright back at you.

”Your gentle laughter is sweeter than a choir. I’ll never know, the right words to choose. So all i can say… Is thank you” HR…

*flashback*

That whole year was all about your plans together. But when you gave him the news… he fell silent. So you started to worry that maybe that wasn’t what he wanted. But then that big smile that was so characteristic of him, appeared on his face. He picked you up with so much joy, spinning you both in circles making you smile just as wide as him. But his next words weren’t the ones you had expected.

He put you down on your feet, and went to his fedora looking for something. “I first thought about asking you as soon as I got it in my hands, that was last week. But then I thought it was too soon so I thought about waiting till christmas. But this news…make me realize that I should’ve followed my first thought. So…” he turned around to face you after he found what he was looking for, but without letting you see it yet. “Ma’am,” he looked at your eyes, and got down on one knee. “Miss Y/N  Y/L/N, would you do me the honour of making me your husband?”

*end of flashback*

“We fell into the snow, and talked about growing old.” That Christmas together was all about your plans together, and just like the song… growing old, together as a family. You got married, bought a house together, your baby was on their way… until that May.

Tears started streaming down you cheeks.

“So here’s to a hundred more Christmas days. This house will be our home, and my heart will be your own. As the candles glow, Christmas day.”

At first you got a bit startled as your boys started singing the next parts with you. “Watch the snow fall down like you sometimes. But I’ll pick you up and then pick you up again. Like our winter tree on Christmas night, it needs some light.”

You hugged them, as you and your boys kept singing to him. “Thank you, for your smile. It’s warmer than the fire. Your gentle laughter is sweeter than a choir. I’ll never know the right words to choose. So all I can say, is thank you…thank you.”

You left his coffee and his Big Belly Burger and fries beside his drumsticks. You couldn’t even get a second bite of yours, but your boys ate theirs completely. Before you went back to the car you said your ‘see you soon’ and the ‘talk to you soon, dad’ from your boys.

As you entered the West-Allen loft, you realized you three were the last ones to arrive. Your big family was already chit chatting with some eggnog in hand. Your boys went directly to uncle Barry and Cisco. Barry distracted them with some Flash and Vibe toys, just as Cisco got behind them so him and Barry could start the tickle war. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched your boys try to escape the tickling and fail while laughing uncontrollably. Their baby blue eyes shining with tears of joy from all that tickling. You can almost hear him laughing beside you looking at the same spot as you were. So happy, just like you.

“Spent all this time hanging lights, but I’m just blinded by your eyes. I look outside, the ground is white, but you and I should probably stay inside.”

It was definitely a white Christmas, just like HR liked them. You imagined a snowball fight as the team used to have, but with him and your boys. Those three pair of blue eyes blinding you with their happiness as they decided to make you join them by throwing snowballs at you. Then warming up near the fire with some hot cocoa and marshmellows in hand.

Their smiles, and laughter bringing you warmth, joy, and a pinch of sadness. You knew that daydream would not become true. At least not completely as you imagined it. But having your big family with you, was all you could ask for from that day forward.

You were happy you had them. All of them. And your boys were the reminder of how much HR loved you, and how much you loved him back. He was your angel, and you thanked the gods that made both your lives cross each other.

“Thank you, for your smile. It’s warmer than the fire. Your gentle laughter is sweeter than a choir. I can believe, this year you’ve got me through.

The least I can do… Is thank you.”

You looked outside the window and into that star he always said he liked to watch with his mother, and just…

“I love you, HR. We three do. With all our hearts.”

.

.

*****

@austarus I’m not too confident on myself to ask you to read this, but I would like to know your opinnion about it. I wrote it yesterday, and is my first short fic.  first reader insert too. nevermind, it my first finished fic, period.🤦🏻‍♂️ I have something some could call drafts, but they are just random ideas that i never finish, so this is the first i could kinda give it an end.😅

 If you like it, it’s kind of a present to you.😳😅

I’ve read most of the ones you’ve made about the Wells boys. I’m pretty sure that there’s some i’ve missed🤔, but I’m trying to get back on track on them😋. And all of them have changed my days, and given me some hope, joy, and also brought some daydreaming back🤩👌.

So if you like it it’s kind of a “thank you” for that.

if you don’t... well, I like getting feedback, specially from the ones I admire. It makes me want to get better with full energy c:

[divinity-infinity]

Stuff abt the new ep:

Congratulations to last night's lottery winners! You will be missed. Welcome to Night Vale.

-Right at the start there's this

-and then the stuff with deb

-capital one financial bits omd

Today’s show is sponsored by Capital One Financial. Capital One Financial sees you. They hear you. They feel you. Capital One Financial loves you for all of your flaws and charms. They would never ask more of you than you are able to give, but they won’t let you be complacent in your ways either. Capital One Financial will challenge you to be a better friend, lover, citizen, and human being. Haven’t you always wanted an American bank holding-company to push you, to improve you, to inspire you, but all in the name of love? Listen, Capital One Financial knows it has only been getting to know you for 30 seconds, but Capital One Financial loves you. There. They said it. They love you. When you know, you know. And Capital One Financial knows. Come here, you. Give Capital One Financial a big ol’ kiss.

Capital One Financial sees you. They hear you. They feel you. Capital One Financial is not mad, but Capital One Financial is disappointed. Capital One Financial thought you understood what it meant to love, to be loved. But it seems clear now that you did not. Capital One Financial accepts the blame for this. They were listening, but they were not receiving. That said, Capital One Financial thinks maybe you’re a bit closed off at times. Like you’re afraid to confront Capital One Financial, because the very frustrations you have with your American bank holding-company are the frustrations you have with yourself. Capital One Financial reminds you that anger is often guilt in disguise. Capital One Financial knows that life is seasonal, storms pass, and wounds heal. Capital One Financial is here for you when you need a holding-company for your American banking. Come here, you. Let Capital One Financial give you a hug. They call us a holding-company for a reason. Tell Capital One Financial everything. There there, hon. Shhh. There there.

Today’s show is brought to you by Capital One Financial. Capital One Financial sees you. They hear you. They feel you. Capital One Financial is proud of you. Proud of who you have become. Capital One Financial thinks it has become better for having known you, too. Capital One Financial knows times are hard, but together you put in emotional labor to make this relationship better. Capital One Financial is so happy, but they know that love is never stagnant. Love cannot stand upon its own laurels. Love is ever changing. Capital One Financial wants to share your love with more than just you. Capital One Financial wants to get a dog, maybe two dogs. Capital One Financial was thinking a bigger dog, like a Pitbull or a Greyhound rescue. But Capital One Financial is open to smaller breeds as well. As long as it’s adopted. Capital One Financial wants a “Who Rescued Who” bumper sticker and a Hybrid compact SUV. Capital One Financial loves you so much. But sometimes they feel selfish keeping this love only to themselves. What do you think? Capital One Financial already put in an application at the shelter. Capital One Financial: Don’t be mad, but we got a dog.

-the fog bits are giving me the lonely vibes hdbddndndkdja

We’re no longer certain whether or not the fog is a fog at all. No one can see into the dense mist, and again, no sounds can escape it.

-H m m

Listeners, I do not know what’s happening, nor if anyone left in town can hear me. I feel so alone, here in my studio, so helpless. My only real friend at work is gone, and I think it’s all my fault. I was such a jerk.

-H M M THE LONELY IS THAT YOU

-I LOVE THE WEATHER TODAY OMD

Why would I cry at something as feeble-minded as friendship. I am breathing heavily in triumph. I will return to your decrepit radio station, and I will show you how to read sponsor copy. And your pride will be crushed, puny human. And we will have lunch together every week, and sometimes invite each other over for dinner to meet our families. And I will meet your husband Carlos, and son Esteban, whom I have only seen photos of, and who is so fragile and soft with his big eyes and fat cheeks and unkempt moppy hair. And I will mock them with my very presence. And you will meet my patch of haze family: my husband Dave, and my husband Paul and my wife Paula and my spouse LJ and our 25 children and our pet sneeze Rufus. And you will cower before us. For what is a body but a curse of pain, fear and sorrow?

- For what is a body but a curse of pain, fear and sorrow?

- WAIT THE FOG IS A METAPHOR FOR DEB AND CECIL W H O A

CECIL: Well, the fog. It was a metaphor for you and me. For our relationship. Like, we let our feelings cloud our reason. We couldn’t hear or see each other, and it could have caused great harm, but once we were able to communicate, it all cleared up. DEB: It’s not a metaphor.

CECIL: Simile?

DEB: For cryin’ out loud, Cecil. Where do I live?

CECIL: I actually don’t know.

DEB: Radon Canyon. And what is a fog?

CECIL: A fog is uh..

DEB: It's a patch of haze, Cecil, yah. Geez, I thought I was dense. Ya had me in a real stinker of a mood today. I got the holler tail, and had to let off some steam, really make people miserable. Misery loves company, don’tcha know. But I’m feeling tons better now.

PROVERB: It takes a village. Who knows what it will take next? Be safe.

-is this about the pandemic

[villainousshakespeare]

A Forest Interlude Chapter 24 - The Missing Bride

Summary: Eleonore (OFC) discovers a wounded man in the woods near her home and seeks to heal him. Little does she know that it is none other than the heir to the throne, Prince Hal of England.

Chapter: 24 of 28

Rated E

Warnings: smut, sex fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs

(spoiler - don’t worry, it will all work out okay in the end)

In this chapter:   Hal confronts his past behavior with Poins, and discovers the abduction of his darling wife.

Read the entire story on AO3

@nrthmnsplbnd09 ;  @nonsensicalobsessions @yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles @from-hel-i-with-love  livviedoo@hopelessromanticspoonie @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen@dangertoozmanykids101 @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @vodka-and-some-sass @shiningloki@hiddlesholic @isitmadnessrpg​

If he clenched his jaw any harder Hal was convinced all of his teeth would break. This was not at all how he had anticipated the afternoon proceeding. The warm bath that he had so looked forward to sharing with his eager wife was bordering on cold, and instead of her soft moans his ears were being assaulted with a steady string of mindless prattle from Ned Poins.

Ned, who was by some reckoning his closest companion. Who definitely was the his most frequent co-conspirator and partner in crime. How that had come to be the case, Hal was having a difficult time remembering now, for he found the steady stream of malicious gossip and cruel innuendo falling from the other man's lips grating to him. A month or two ago Hal would have been laughing at his latest conquest of some poor, unsuspecting baker's wife. Ned had managed to convince the woman that he wanted to run away with her in order to bed her, only to deny any such plans when her husband caught them, mid tryst. Now, Hal merely felt sorry for the poor woman. Her life had been ruined simply because she had a nice pair of breasts that had managed to catch the wandering eye of a bored noble.

A blessed silence stretched as Hal quickly washed himself, regretting it was not Nell's hands wandering over his body, all soapy and searching. He gave a soft sigh at the thought, his cock half heartedly twitching, and was met with a snort of derision. Looking up, he saw Ned was staring at him with shuttered, cynical eyes.

"I'll give you this, your wife's a pretty piece," Poins said, a twist of his lips substituting for a smile, "though not, for me, enough to risk a ring. Was wedding her in truth the only way that she would open up her legs to you? If so, I hope the prize was worth the price, for to my mind she's a controlling wench."

"I'll tell you once the same I told the king," Hal said, rising from the tub, naked and dripping, and crossing to tower over his friend in anger, "I will not hear a word against her Ned. Nell is my wife, and I do love her well. You would be wise to bear that thought in mind, or this my first will see to it you learn."

"A thousand pardons Hal, I meant no harm!" Ned replied quickly, raising both hands in defense and stepping back. "I see you are much taken with her now. Though I profess to hear you speak of love, and have the words be so sincerely meant, doth hardly reconcile with my old friend."

"I do suppose you have some cause in that," Hal was forced to admit, as he snatched up a bath sheet and began toweling himself dry. "When I think now of what my life hath been, and how I so mistreated the fair sex, I do begin to almost hate myself."

"Mistreat them? Hal, I hardly would say that!" Ned laughed. "For I was near at hand as oft as not, and from the sounds you brought forth out of them, those ladies that you tumbled for a night had nothing to complain of in your bed!"

Hal cursed himself for thinking that Ned would understand what he was saying. He did not mean that he had hurt the women, heaven forbid! Nor even that he had not done his best to make sure that they came away from the encounter thoroughly satisfied. It was just that he had never given a one of them any thought once the random coupling had ended. He had never wondered if they pined for him, or if he was getting in the way of a relationship that might bring them more joy in the long term. Short of doing his best to ensure that their were no royal bastards to follow him about, he had taken his pleasure without any further worry.

"I hope that you are right, but who can say?" was all he answered now, knowing it was useless to share his thoughts with the other.

"Well, I am going now to Jocelyn's," Ned said, laying back on Hal's bed with a groan. "Her babe at last is weaned, so now's my chance. Perhaps I'll ask her for you, if you like, if she did feel disgraced by your hand."

Apparently Ned thought this a capital joke from the way he laughed. Hal managed a grimace that passed for a smile and began dressing absentmindedly. Jocelyn was a lusty woman, and ran a thriving brothel. She was not the type that Hal had been worrying over hurting. All the same, he wished Ned would show her some respect.

"No doubt you will have other things to say," Hal suggested with a raised eyebrow, "and will not need to fall back on my name."

"Oh I do not plan to say much at all! My mouth shall be much happier employed. But come, shall you go with me good sweet prince? I hear she has a new girl in her house, a redhead with an ardency to match. I'm sure the girl would count it quite a coup if she could snare a prince into her bed."

"I have no need for whores, I thank you Ned. I am, if you recall, a man now wed."

"Well yes, I know that you did take a wife," Ned looked at him in almost comical alarm, "but surely that need not affect you much. Nell need not know whereto we two are bound, tis not like she will hear it from your whore! And I should think she may think it relief that she must not see to your needs today."

"You do not mark me, so I'll say it plain. There will from now be no more whores for me. I fear you must seek for another man to bear you company in your pursuits."

"But Hal, you must be playing at some jest - you surely do not mean you plan to be a faithful husband to your loving wife?"

"Yet that is just exactly what I mean," he nodded. "Now that the gods have granted me my heart, I would not put such happiness at risk by wasting of my time with random whores or ladies who would cast themselves at me. I want but one fair damsel in my bed, and much to my eternal wonderment, that woman is none other than my wife."

Ned stared at him in stunned disbelief. Hal knew that he deserved no less, and once more felt his shame rise. He could not truly fault Poins. Even discounting Hal's reputation as a rake, very few men of his rank were completely faithful to their wives. He supposed it came with the territory when most marriages were arranged more for money and alliances than for affection. He was a man most blessed that his life's companion was the owner of his very soul.

"My lord, my lord! I must see you at once!" Cecil demanded, barging into the room in a most undignified fashion quite at odds with his usual reserved bearing.

"What is it man? Here, sit and catch you breath," he instructed as his man doubled over and wheezed.

"There is no time, her Highness, Princess Nell..." Cecil gasped out, causing Hal's heart to stop beating.

"What Nell? Why what is wrong? Sir, speak to me!" he demanded, fear like a cold finger on his spine. "Is it the babe? Has she come to some harm?"

"No, no my prince, tis not as bad as that," Cecil hastened to assure him. "A troop of guard appeared here at our gate, and did insist that she should go with them!"

"What, take her from her home? I'll kill them all! Where were our own men that they stopped them not?"

"Your grace, she went with them of her own will, for they were dressed in colors of the king, and his own sigil did bedeck their breasts! Only the gateman knew what did occur until she had acceded to their will. Poor lad, he is beside himself in fear that he did put her life somehow at risk."

Hal began littering the air with every curse he knew. There had been no direct word from his father since their frightful encounter on his wedding day, and the lack of condemnation had lulled him into a false sense of security. It had never occurred to him that Henry would do something so extreme as to send armed guards to abduct Nell from their home! What could he possibly hope to gain by doing any such thing?

"Have Strumpet saddled for me straight away," he commanded Cecil, pulling his boots on as he spoke. "I ride at once to see our revered king. I hope he has some reason for this act, as patricide is still a grievous sin. But if he has caused any harm to her, I will not answer for my own reply."

"Your horse is waiting for you in the yard. It was not hard to think what you would do."

"I thank you, Cecil. Ned, I bid you well. You must excuse me, for I now depart."

"I would not think to keep you from your bride," Ned said with an odd voice Hal could not quite place, but thought might contain humor. He supposed seeing him cast as the avenging husband might seem humorous to someone else. To himself it was deadly serious.

Cecil was as good as his word, and Hal's favorite horse was saddled and waiting for him. It took him very little time to ride to the palace. Even were he not known on sight through most of London, one look at his furious face was enough to clear all out of his path. When he arrived at the castle, he threw his reins to a random groom and stormed inside, beating a path for the presence chamber. Not waiting to be announced, he thrust open the doors and barged inside.

"Where is she sir, for I will have her back!" he hurled the words at the old man sitting on the throne like a spear.

Henry, who until that moment had been in deep conversation with his master of coin, started in his seat as though a dragon had burst into his throne room, and indeed Hal looked like one. When he realized the accosting person was in fact his eldest son, his face turned red and his eyes lit with rage. Still, his voice was clam and cutting as he addressed Hal.

"You should be whipped for lack of manners, boy. Do you not know to whom it is you speak? How dare you come before us in such state, and so abuse our royal presence thus?"

"Forgive me if I do not curtsey, sir," Hal sneered, as the gathered court looked on in shock. "Perhaps if you had not kidnapped my wife I might have time for courtliness and grace."

"Has all the sac you drink gone to your brain?" his father demanded, glaring at him. "Why, tell me boy, would I abduct your wife?"

"Why that you must tell me, for I know not!"

"And do you see her here, you foolish sot? I have not set my eyes upon the girl since I did see you both the day you wed."

"Is this the truth? You did not send for her?"

"I have no need to lie to you, you wretch! In truth I have done all that I could do to put the two of you far from my mind!"

"Then this is even worse than I did fear!"

Hal was completely lost now. When he thought that his father had taken Nell, he had feared for their future, but never for her physical safety. Say what you would about Henry, and Hal had, but he was not a threat to women. The worst he had imagined was that his father intended to ship her off to a convent and dissolve their union. If it was someone else... the possibilities were as dark as they were endless.

"What put it in your head that I had her?" Henry's voice sounded begrudgingly concerned.

"The gateman said that guards did come for her, dressed in the livery of your own house."

"Flat lies, and that you can see for yourself! Why, you have known Renaldo all your life and here he stands as he has done all day. If I had sent my men on such a task as would require discretion in to be done, as to abduct my son's wife from their home, think you I would entrust it not to him?"

Hal had to admit his father had a point. Renaldo had been with them since Hal was a boy, as faithful to Henry as he was circumspect. His father was far too fussy to allow such an act as Hal was accusing him of to be done in a way to cause talk among the public. If he had sent for Nell, it would have been Renaldo that retrieved her.

Hal's mind spun. It made no sense. Who would want to take Nell? Could it be Northumberland, angry at the cancelled wedding? Or perhaps the Earl of Kent who he had provoked at the market? He could not think clearly, not when the dearest person on the globe was in such peril.

"But said your man that they were dressed as us?" Renaldo asked now, voice sounding almost concerned as he looked at Hal with searching eyes. "What men would have free access to our garb? My men are quartered close unto the king, and only one admitted to those rooms could hope to take one jerkin, far less six"

Six. They had been dressed in uniforms of Henry's household. And their had been six of them. Slowly, Hal lowered his head into his hands and laughed an almost unhinged laugh.

"I am as foolish, Sire, as you think," he said, shaking his head. "I pray you all, forget this freakish start. I did not mean to so disrupt your day. I'll leave you now and cause no more discord."

"I am, I think, an explanation owed," Henry said in a wry voice. "You do, I take it, know who has your wife?"

"I do believe I do, and if I'm right, they shall regret the day they hatched their plan."

"Renaldo then shall go along with you," Henry surprised Hal by saying. "She is, for now, a member of my house, and as such we cannot allow insult. When you have her extracted from this mess, I will expect you all to return here. I have some words which I would say to thee."

Hal did not miss the formal tone on the end of his father's decree, but for now he had more important matters to attend to. The pieces had fallen into place, and he was reasonably certain that he knew just where he would find Nell. Heaven help the men when he got there.

[fridays--child]

Chapter 1 - But the darkness holds it all in: figures and flame, beasts and me.

Read on AO3 or Wattpad

After the hubris that followed the Industrial Revolution, scholars and civilians are terrified when a new plague epidemic steadily begins killing off not only their way of life, but their population. When Hedy Leander, a foreign volunteer medic gets posted at Morrigan’s Ranch, a rural farming-turned-resort town that’s one of the few unaffected, she’s expecting a reprieve from the death and disease that clings to the bigger cities. But as things become bleaker, the small community will have to learn what desperation to survive can do to not only to their idyllic existence, but to those they thought to rely on.

“No man is an island, entire of itself.

Each is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less…”

Hedy had never been a God-fearing woman. Even in her twelve years of Catholic school, her family had been too involved in science and rationality to believe in an eternal and all-knowing watcher, and church visits were mandated to weddings and funerals. But if there was a big guy up there, presiding over her every movement, after the past few days she highly doubted he’d mind too much if she let herself doze for a few moments.

Her Pa had died. After nearly seventy years in the service of medicine, he finally, quietly, gave in to the very disease he tried to cure. The same infection that was sweeping the country like the locust in Exodus. Or so he likened it to. She had cried all she needed to over her reluctant hero, the man who rarely showed paternal love, but showered her in accolades when she, in some form, began to follow in his career path. And though she felt an ache in her chest, in the dimly lit cathedral, with the air thick and sweet with smoke, it could be so easy to put a hand over her eyes and rest quietly. She had been awake for over twenty-four hours.

“Each man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind.

Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee."

"Now, please rise for the final hymn.”

“Yes, he was too involved in mankind, the foolish old man,” Gran muttered filthily, as Hedy gently grabbed her elbow and helped the older woman stand. The tip of her ugly feathered hat hit Hedy’s face and obscured anyone behind her’s view. Hedy hoped the small lace veil she wore hid her blush. “He thought he could play God.”

“I think he just wanted to help.” Hedy responded, nodding politely when some of the other mourners turned around in response to the outburst. True or not, it was too soon to speak ill of the dead. “It was his life’s work, he couldn’t just sit by while this happened.”

“Yes he could of,” she retorted, grabbing her small handbag and rifling through it. The pall-bearers were gathering around to carry the empty casket to the cemetery. “He was too proud of his own intelligence, and too damn stupid to realise he couldn’t outsmart it.”

Hedy nodded, too worn to argue back. Though her Pa had only married her Gran in during her childhood, Hedy had learned early on there was no point taking Elenora Leander on. Her previous two husbands had testified to that.

“It was nice that they chose to honour him here, in the city.” Hedy changed tactics, walking along the green lawn of the adjoining cemetery to where his headstone now stood. Four feet high, the stone featured a winged man holding off a skeletal harbinger. A testimonial to the very arrogance Gran was bitter about.

“Though I guess it was nice that they had a ceremony at all.” Gran sniffed.

It was true, however unfortunate it seemed. The death that was occurring on mass across the company meant that funerals had lost any sense of rarity , any sense of closure. Everyone was mourning. There were no bodies to bury, the government decreed that any person who died from this plague, as well as their clothes and anything they came into contact with during their incubation, was to be burnt and then buried. Pa’s body would have been burnt a week ago, and buried in the mass grave they all pretended was not only a few miles out of the city’s gates. This funeral, with the casket and headstone, was a laughable luxury.

“I suppose this put you out of a job.” Gran retorted, pulling a small vial from her purse. Delicately, she let four drops fall onto her tongue, grimacing slightly as she swallowed. Hedy rounded on her, taking the small vial from her grasp.

“I was out a year before this happened,” she replied, taking a sniff of the concoction. She did not recognise the label on the bottle. “And what is this, Gran?”

“One of your Pa’s students gave this to me, said it would help my nerves today.”

Hedy popped a drop on the back of her hand, looking around to make sure no other funeral attendees were watching. Most had already begun to leave. There was to be no wake, no viewing, and no body to bury. She tentatively licked it off her gloves.

“Gran, this is nothing more than brandy with some lavender in it!” Hedy exclaimed, before licking her hand again. “And maybe some form of opiate.”

“Oh good,” Gran took the bottle back, taking a few more drops for good measure. She placed the small vial daintily back into her handbag and closed the clasp with a sharp snap. “I couldn’t very well bring out a flask, could I? The only thing worse than a drunk widow is a hysterical one.”

~

Goodbyes at the train station were a short affair. Despite having lived at Morrigan Ranch for the past twenty years, Gran had decided to live in the city, citing she was old and had nothing left at that ‘run down hick town.’ When Hedy had mentioned was worried about her on her own, she snorted. “Sweetheart, worrying is just something we do to feel busy.”

The train ride itself was uneventful. Morrigan’s Ranch was located three hours out from the city, far enough away to feel rural, but close enough for a weekend trip. Originally a small farming town, its rugged, wild beauty, and relative proximity to both the city, and a quaint coastline hotspot, had made it somewhat of a resort town in recent years. The rich and bored came there to experience living off the land, spending a weekend or two with their hands in the soil before they gleefully returned to their life of privilege. Why a woman like Elenora chose to live there in retirement, Hedy would never understand. But she had enjoyed her childhood trips when she was in the country there, where the livestock and people did not mind an overly curious child with the heavy accent bothering them. She hadn’t been there since she was freshly eighteen, and, despite being posted there for work, was looking forward to staying at a place that was, if fadingly, familiar.

The seven-mile trek between the station and Morrigan’s Ranch via carriage was, unfortunately, less pleasant. The weight of nearly forty hours awake was beginning to toll on Hedy, her head throbbing over every bump and ditch. Despite all her recent practice, she had never been a great traveller. The uneven swaying was threatening her to be ill all over her Sunday best and stupid, too small shoes. Cecil, Morrigan’s own preacher and the organiser of her volunteer unit, had apologized profusely. Cars were already a rarity, and, in this time too expensive for the average person to run. Morrigan’s Ranch only had one vehicle in working order, and it was currently in use. Hedy had waved his apology away, but now, groaning and resting her sick head between her legs, she could really curse whoever was selfish enough to take it away from her.

Sitting across from her, Declan blanched slightly at her green complexion. “If you throw up on me, princess, I will throw you from this carriage.” He had a shotgun casually strapped across his back, and unfortunate part of being an escort on the roads in recent months. Firearms had stopped alarming her a long time ago.

Hedy threw him up a hand gesture, swallowing hard at the saliva pooling in her mouth. “As if I haven’t cleaned you up more times than I can count.” When he chuckled, she continued. “Just please tell me we’re fucking close already.”

“We should be.”

In the encroaching darkness, the surrounding forest and shrubbery around Morrigan’s Ranch seemed more overgrown than it was seven years ago. Everything rustled and echoed through the branches, accentuated by the poor horse who was carrying their load’s heavy stomps as they approached the lights glowing in the distance. She could hear voices in the distance, brutal yet cautious, asking questions about their approaching carriage. If she hadn’t gotten used to feeling afraid, she would have been nervous right now. She saw Declan’s hand twitch towards his gun.

“Pull over.”

Their group was met with a small convoy of armed men and woman, their expressions in the dim light dark and questioning. The carriage driver agreed, and Hedy quickly slid out, glad to feel solid ground beneath her swollen feet. However, her relief was short lived, as one gripped her forearm, roughly taking her Pa’s medicine bag, one of her few prized possession, from her grasp. She could hear Declan arguing with another as they began to surround the carriage and began rummaging through the possessions of the other carriage riders. When no one responded, the same voice spoke again.

“Who are you?” She could hear another gun slowly being loaded and cocked.

“My name is Hedy Leander,” Hedy spat, trying to retrieve her medicine bag from out of her aggressor’s reach. She still hadn’t let go of her forearm. “Anton and Elenora’s granddaughter.”

No reply.

“I’m part of the medical team stationed here. If you give me my bag back, I can show you my pass and papers.”

The woman holding her arm looked up to the first voice.

“Samson?”

“Show me.”

Indignantly, Hedy snatched her bag back and quickly retrieved her papers. Beckoning for one of the men holding a lantern to come over, she at last could see where the demanding voice came from. His face was mostly obscured by long dark hair and a beard, with only the tips of his cheekbones and eyes visible in this light. Though she couldn’t see much more of him, or anyone surrounding him, she noticed he might be one of the few men that had been taller than her. He looked at her pass for a long moment, before handing it back. His voice was softer, but no less authoritative, than before.

“Where’s Cecil?”

“Dealing with border control. Trying to get our luggage through quarantine faster.” She shrugged. “I’m only allowed this bag because it’s got medical supplies.”

One of the other party members, a man who was wearing a wide-brimmed hat despite the night sky, stared inquisitively at the man named Samson. He nodded slightly.

“Okay, let’s get you in.”

Tensions slightly decreased, Declan and Hedy walked the remainder of the short trek by foot, with Hedy downright refusing to get on the now-spooked horse’s carriage again. The one with the hat spoke again.

“Sorry about the, uh, showdown there. We’ve had some issues with poachers recently.”

“I understand. I get why you have muscle here.” She motioned to Samson. Hat man chuckled.

“Hedy!”

As they approached the town hall, the only building illuminated by candles despite it being evening, a shrill yet excited voice called out. Hedy found herself in the arms of Moira, who had run to the convoy and promptly enveloped her with a kiss on the forehead. Though she had not known her long, Cecil’s young wife had always been kind, if slightly over-affectionate, to Hedy and the rest of her team.

“Are you alright, darling?” She held Hedy’s face in her hands.

“Yes, thank you Moira. Cecil did a lovely job today.”

“That’s sweet.” She linked arms with Hedy and bought her forward, into the building. “I apologize for the lack of a welcoming party. It must have been hard to find us here in the dark.”

“Do you have electricity here? I thought Gran said it was recently installed.”

Moira nodded. “We do, only in the town hall and a few of the homes who could afford it. It’s hit the skitz, but we only turn the generators on from 6-10pm each night, and then it’s all candlelight.”

Hedy nodded along, tuning out as Moira quickly explained how the village ran. It had been a damn long time since she had been here.

~

Ave moved as silently as she could, trying to use the wind and night sky to her advantage. Creeping towards the old shed next to the generator, she thought it was ironic that, until only a year or two ago, she was terrified of these forests and what lay in them. She had been raised around a campfire full of tales of wraits and folk in animal skins, who would trick and spirit away those who disturbed their peace. But there was nothing here to be scared of, she knew. The only scary thing out here were the men who tried to steal from them.

Finally reaching the shed, she quickly took a peek at the generator, before removing the loose glass in one of the windows and wriggling her way in. Ave had heard that poachers had been seen in the area scouting for food, and when their trusty generator had broken down a few days later, she could only assume they were the culprits. She had spent too much fucking time, covered in muck, growing those vegetables for them to be stolen by lazier men.

Ave didn’t have to wait long for her suspicions to be confirmed. Raising herself slightly, she peered through the shed window at the two men approaching. She couldn’t recognise either of them, and as they reached the generator, she knew they weren’t a welcome member of their little community.

“The idiots haven’t fixed this yet, think we’re still good?”

“Yeah, should be. You start here, I’ll check one of the other sheds. See where they stock their produce before we go for the livestock.”

Fingers nimble despite her building rage, Ave quickly tested the sharpness of her arrow before loading it into her bow. The poacher had disappeared, and she flattened herself against the wall, pressing her ear to the thin shield between them. She could hear him circle the shed, and as he rattled the knob of the long-broken door, she cocked her bow. Despite herself, she jumped and swore when a fist smashed through the window she had entered through and knocking over a ladder.

The poacher, hearing her, paused for a moment at her outburst. Ave bit her lip, praying that if she stopped breathing it would still her furiously beating heart. She was certain he could hear the violent rattle of it through the heavy silence. Curiously, he raised a lantern to the glassless window.

“What do we have here?”

She lined up a shot, hitting his shoulder.

“You fuck!” His hands reached for his holster at his hips, but she was much faster. Aiming blindly, she closed her eyes and hoped for impact.

Luck was on her side that day. Foolishly, she dared not open her eyes, but strained her ears as she heard him stumble, before a heavy weight hit the ground. Ave counted to sixty three times in silence, before tempting to move again.

She wasn’t sure how long he’d be incapacitated, and at this point, she did not want to find out. Moving as stealthily as she could, she eased herself through the now shattered window and pawed her way to his body. The lantern lay discarded, but it’s light spilled over the man’s spreadeagled body. Tentatively, she placed two fingers on the pulse point of his wrist, relieved yet sickly annoyed at the slow, steady thump that showed life. Moving quickly, she liberated him of his pistol, throwing her bow and arrows back through the window of the shed.  

Pulling the safety off with shaky fingers, Ave pointed the gun to the sky and pulled the trigger. Twice. Then she ran like all hell.

- - - - -

Notes:

Hi! Okay, so posting this is terrifying, but here it is in all it's rough, dirty, and unedited glory. I've had this story floating around my brain for about four years, and chronic illness has finally given me time to write it. I haven't written for fun in about 84 years, so hopefully it isn't fucking terrible. There's about 15 chapters planned so far, so there should be an update once a week.

- - - - - 

Credits: The title comes from 'Rilke’s Book Of Hours: Love Poems To God: The Book of the Monkish Life p. April 1905,' by Rainer Maria Rilke. The reading during the funeral is Meditation XVII Devotions upon Emergent Occasions,' by John Donne.

[countrymusiclover]

19 - Magic isn't Innocent

Part 20

The Siphoning Princess

Tag list [ @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @onentaien-kwara @maximedallas @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Snatching up a sticky note off the notepad I pushed it onto the wall underneath a picture of Dr. Whale that I circled with a red maker and put a question mark on the sticky note before hearing someone knock on my front door so I hollered to the front door from my bedroom.  “It's open, Henry!” 

“Renae, you sounded weird over the radio.  Is everything okay - wow.  Did you do all this?” The ten year old entered my bedroom dropping his backpack on my floor in shock. 

“Yes.” I simply replied, eyeing my bedroom wall behind me that was now covered in sticky notes, pictures, puzh pins and string.  The entire wall was covered from head to toe.  In the center of the wall was my real name and my curse name underneath a picture of me.  A string attached to my picture connected to Emma, Cecile , and Charming’s picture with cursed names included if need be. 

Henry scanned his eyes over the wall seeing Regina labeled as the evil queen, Graham as the sheriff along with the Seven dwarfs and many other people that he hadn't figured out who they really were just yet.  “How did you figure all these out so fast? - I knew he had to be the Dark One!” He hung his mouth opened seeing a few names with questions except for Mr. Gold that was now labeled as Rumplestilskin. 

Walking over to the kid I dropped down onto. my knees holding up my left hand that now had my wedding ring back in its rightful place.  “I'm back, Henry.  I remember everything.” 

“Really.  You remember you're the daughter of Rumplestilskin!” He gasped, throwing his arms up in the air cheering. 

Smirking at him playfully.  “Indeed dearie.” 

“I can't believe it.  My book is real.  Everything is real about the curse.” 

Raising myself up to my feet I brushed hair behind my ear looking back at the decorated wall.  “There’s some people I haven't figured out yet or don't remember.  But here's your list of characters and who they are.”

“Does your husband remember who he is.  Does Tessa too?” The kid asked, looking at their names and pictures. 

My smile dropped a little bit.  “Sorry, kiddo.  They are still under the curse.” 

“We have to show this to my birth mom.  Once she sees that you're awake she'll have to believe us and we can have her break the curse once and for all.” 

“We can only hope.” Sending him a weak smile I sighed until hearing my phone ringing with an unknown number.  “Hello, who is this?” 

“Is this Ms. Hunter?” 

I responded.  “Yes.  This is her.” 

“I'm sorry to inform you Ms. Hunter.  But Graham Humbert has filed for parental custody of your daughter Tessa Hunter.” The voice came over the phone where I felt a pit drop in my stomach.  

Slowly falling back to sit down on my bed I felt different hearing those words.  “What does that mean exactly?  When would I have to be present in court?  Am I going to need a lawyer?” He wasn't my husband or the love of my life.  But for 28 years I believed he was my daughter's father. 

“I am not allowed to give you legal advice, ma’am.  But I would suggest getting a lawyer.  Your court date is two days from now at 8am.  That is all the information I have for now.” 

Henry saw me hang up the phone.  “Is everything okay, Jaide?’ 

“Regina is trying to make me fight a custody battle over my own child.” Getting up from my bed I quickly walked out of the room and into the living room finding my coat.  “Henry, I need a favor from you.” 

He came into the room when I called his name.  “Sure.  What do you need?” 

“Pick up my daughter when she gets off the bus.  I have to talk with Mr.  Gold - uh sorry my father about something.  I’ll be back home shortly.” Shrugging my jacket over my shoulders I flung the door opened stepping outside, popping my head back inside before I left the house.  “Tell Emma I need to speak with her immediately.  Bye.” 

Quickly reaching the pawnshop as fast as I could on foot I shoved the door open and slammed it shut with a kick of my foot altering my father that I was here since I couldn’t do what I really wanted unless we had our magic back.  “We need to talk now.  Get your ass out here, papa!” 

“Please don’t break my door, sweetheart.  I’d rather not have to buy a new one.” He came from the back room slowly walking with his cane coming to stand in front of me. 

“Regina wants to take Cecile away from me!” 

A bright smile crossed his face.  “Cecile.  Oh joy.  You have your memories back.” 

“Yeah I have them back and I’m pissed that the evil queen is threatening to rip the only part of my family I have left.” 

My father remarked with a tilted head.  “Your family isn’t gone, Jaide.  You have Cecile thanks to my white elephant from the enchanted forest.  Your prince is currently sneaking around with you having an affair.  And let’s not forget that your other daughter who is Cecile’s twin sister is living in your house.  So from where I’m standing it seems like you have your family all close around you.” 

“You know what I mean.” Huffing I crossed my arms over my chest.  “They’re not with me if they can’t stand here and remember who they truly are.  But that’s not why I’m here.  I need your help making sure Regina doesn’t take Cecile from me.” 

My father watched me closely once the question had left his mouth.  “What did you have in mind, hmm?” 

“Take her heart and take her power away from her.” Giving him a cold stone look there was a point in my life that my husband or kids could ever know about.  The period where I almost became like the dark one, where I became a miniature version of my father. 

“Pay close attention, daughter.” My father Rumplestilskin declared walking up to a black unicorn we had found in the middle of the forest during my magic lessons.  Standing off to the side I wanted to shut my eyes but didn’t when he stuck his hand inside the animal's chest and removed its heart.  The unicorns heart glowed a bright red in his hand when he looked at me.  “Now it belongs to me.” 

“You’re hurting it, papa.” Ten year old me watched him while playing with one of the ends of her pigtail braids. 

He waved his index finger on his freehand in my direction explaining what I didn’t understand from a child’s mindset.  “You see when you take a heart it becomes enchanted.  Stronger than a normal heart.  You’re not hurting the beast, you’re controlling it.” 

“Why take the heart at all.  What do you win?” 

“You gain the power you feel when you hold someone or something’s life in your hands.” He gently tossed the heart into my chest and I stumbled back catching the magical heart in my hands.  “Show me you are ready for the next level in your training, Jaide-Renae.  Crush its heart.” 

I nearly dropped the unicorn's heart on the ground squeaking out a cry.  “What! Papa, I - I can’t watch it die.” 

“What if the unicorn attempted to kill me?” 

I whimpered out.  “I don’t know.” 

“Let’s see shall we?” He waved his hand performing a spell I didn’t know that caused the unicorn to charge towards my father with its horn aimed right for it.  My father didn’t move out of the way and the unicorn was about to stab him in the chest. 

Clutching my eyes closed tightly I screamed out in utter fear.  “No!” 

“Open your eyes, Jaide.” My father told me and I did as he instructed, gasping in horror seeing the once alive unicorn laying dead on the forest floor.  He steps over to me, gently holding me by my shoulders.  “How did it make you feel?” 

Tears streamed down my face. I wish I could lie to him.  “I thought - I thought I was going to lose you.  But now I’m - I’m happy you’re okay.” 

“That’s the thing about magic, about power.” He focused his gaze to mine, wiping away my fallen tears with a smirk on his face.  “Having power means you can fight back against anyone who tries to tear your family apart from each other.  Every single time, no matter who gets hurt in the process.” 

My father now stood before me with a disappointed look on his face when he shook his head in disappointment and somewhat proud of the other part of me I was finally deciding to embrace after all these years.  I finally understood why he did all the seemingly dark and selfish things he did.  “Unfortunately dear you know we don’t have any magic here.  Regina and you will settle your fight over Cecile by a pen and your words.” 

“Curse me kilts you’re lying to me!” Throwing my hands up in the air I heard my Scottish accent beginning to come through after all this time.  “You would never come to a land without magic without creating a magical fail safe once the curse is broken so where is it.  Let’s go get it and bring magic here.” 

“Jumpstarting your magic isn’t my concern right now, daughter.  And like I have already said it won’t work until your daughter breaks the curse.” He changed his tone of voice at me, getting angry with me that I wasn’t understanding or accepting what he had previously said to me. 

Spinning on my heels I stomped to the door slamming it behind me where I nearly broke the little shop bell.  “You’re the worst!” 

When I went back home I stepped inside the apartment to find Emma and Henry were standing inside my bedroom.  She was looking over my crime scene on a bedroom wall until they heard me walk inside the doorway.  “Renae, Henry said you wanted to talk with me.  Is everything okay?” 

“Not really.  My father is an asshole.” Snapping at the woman before me I glared at her blurting out the truth that she didn’t know up until this very moment.  “Oh and news flash Emma.  I’m your mother!” 

[king-b0mbastic]

Perfect

A happy birthday gift 💝 for @suicide-d0g! Merry anniversary of existence, Chase :D!

Noah ( @strakh) and Cecil( @blxnd-trxth) belong to Chase

~*~

Noah grinned as he went up the steps. Cecil was waiting there, an expectant smile on his face. He looked great in his suit, and a black rose was pinned to his chest pocket. A small prompt flickered in the RK900’s vision, showing how the black rose was always used to represent death. ...An odd choice, but it complimented his black hair nicely. Then again, Cecil always looked great. How could he not?

The pastor grinned, albeit a bit nervously, he almost looked scared. Of course he would be, anyone would feel nervous tying the knot for someone as excellent as Cecil. It’s just like that.

“Do you, Cecil the RK800, promise to protect and love your husband?” Cecil grinned wider.

“I do.” The pastor turned to Noah.

“And do you, Noah the RK900, vow to honour and serve this marriage?” Noah opened his mouth, but something snared the words from upon his tongue and stuffed them back his throat. Cecil lifted an eyebrow, and the pastor blinked expectantly. The RK800’s LED turned a brief yellow, and so did the RK900’s, a canary yellow. Another something snatched the words from their hiding place and forced them through his mouth. They tumbled out, almost breathless.

“I-I do.” Cecil and the human relaxed.

“Then I pronounce you, husbands. You may now kiss your partner.” The other android was slow as he dipped his partner, a deep and passionate kiss.

As generous applause erupted, Noah’s eyes slid shut. Because they were shut, he couldn’t see that the room was empty, and that the clapping was coming from a speaker hidden in the rosary bushes. Because they were shut, he couldn’t see the shackles that tied the pastor to the podium. He couldn’t see the smug grin Cecil’s face.

Everything was perfect. Just perfect.

~*~

Cecil pressed the canary into Noah’s hand.

“What does this mean?”

“It means you always watching me.” Both the bird and the android waited for him to continue.

“Because…?”

“Because you love me.”

Cecil pressed a affectionate kiss to the other’s cheek, the other leaning into his touch.

“Excellent. Who’s Charli?”

Noah’s brow furrowed. A woman with a fiery temper but an even fierier passion flickered at the fringes of his vision. His heart beat faster.

“I-I…” Fingers dug into his neck, and she disappeared, the blaze of her love reduced to wisps of smoke. “I don’t know.” Cecil’s smile showed off his teeth, and Noah could sworn they were sharpened.

“Excellent. Now, who’s Eli?” The woman was there again, a toddler in her arms. The little one reached out to him, and he reached back with fatherly love. His arms closed around Cecil’s waist.

“Baby…” His voice was breathless. Cecil leant his head into the crook of his neck.

“Yes?”  The child vanished.

“...Nothing.”

The RK800 purred. “Excellent. Excellent, excellent, excellent.” He really seemed to like that word. “Now, who do you belong to?” Noah’s breath caught in his throat and-

running

blood

begging

cries

SCREAMS

f e a r

anger

FIGHTING

WINNI-

losing.

no

no

no

no

No

No

NO

NO

N0-

submission.

Noah pulled himself away from the other and hissed. “I belong to no-one.”

Cecil hissed back, striding forward, the eagle to the canary. The canary’s feathers ruffled in fear as his back hit the wall, and the talons of the eagle grazed his face.

Noah knocked his hands away with a scowl. “What the hell did you do with—“

“Silent.” Cecil placed his finger on Noah’s lips, and stole his voice with a kiss. The prey leaned his head back in disgust, and his predator chuckled. “Still.” The mouse froze with fear, and the cat purred. “Excellent. I’ve trained you well.”

His lips found Noah’s, and pressed harshly against them, and the man was forced to stand there. Cecil trailed little pecks down the other’s collarbone, and placed a firm bite on his neck. The wolf licked his fangs as he admired his handiwork. “Now, everyone knows you’re mine.” He rested his head on his lover’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He ignored the beats that skipped with fear.

“You know, your name means ‘rest’, or ‘comfort.’ You comfort me, you’re the only thing that doesn’t make feel like…” Cecil’s voice trembled, “Like a machine.”

Funny, Noah thought. Your name means ‘blind.’ Blind to the truth.

…

They went to the park after that. Fixed to one spot, Noah sat up right, while Cecil cheerfully tossed bread at the pigeons. A few people milled around, but for the most part, they were alone.

Cecil pocketed the bread, and started to rummage in his trousers for something. He pulled out a ring, and Noah’s heart froze.

He got down on one knee, and gazed up at the taller one, with doe-like, earnest eyes. “Noah, we’ve been dating for over six months. And I want to take our relationship to the next level.” Bystanders stopped to watch, curious. No-one could hear the silent rising screams of protest from a certain RK900.

“My love, will you marry me?” With shaking hands, Cecil slipped the ring on Noah’s fingers, and the skin retracted.

Immediately, a scouring heat seared through Noah’s mind, the outside world reduced to white noise. He felt his inner self fall to his knees, and memories crumble to ash. Flashbacks flickered, greyed and died, and he closed his eyes in reminiscence.

She and he danced among the rain. She tackled him to the ground and got mud all over them both. Neither cared. Gone.

She and he tried baking. She smacked his prying hands away with a spoon, scolding him lightly for trying to lick the batter. He stuck his tongue out in defiance. Gone.

Rays of sunshine peeked through the blinds. He blinked blearily, before turning back to see her, and pressed a loyal kiss to her forehead. Always together, for now and forever. Gone, gone and gone.

They all trickled past his fingers, useless. Then he started to fade as well. A plea danced on his tongue, but it was stillborn. Then it too succumbed to noiseless oblivion.

Noah came to, and found the definite love of his life staring at him nervously.

“Y-you don’t like the ring?” He stuttered. Noah looked around at the nosy people that had gathered around them. In response, he tackled Cecil to the floor with a deep kiss, and the crowd cheered.

“I love it.” He whispered. “It’s perfect. Just perfect.”

~*~

“NO! Absolutely not!” Noah winced at her tone. Charli crossed her arms, concern under her harsh glare. “Are you out of your mind?”

“He said he only wants me. He said that he won’t hurt you!”

“And you trust him?”

“...No.” Charli’s fiery gaze softened a little, and she moved to peck his lips softly. He sighed, and touched their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… don’t do anything stupid alright?” He let out a dry chuckle.

“You’re in love with a huge dumbass. I don’t think that’s possible.” Eli burped from his place in the high chair, ruining their intimate moment. Neither minded.

Noah moved to pick his son up, who patted his face with glee. “You love your dad, don’t you? And he loves you.” He pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “...Dada loves you very much.” The last part was sombre. Charli sidled up next to him, snaking her arms around his waist.

“We won’t let him win, I promise.” Noah made a small rumbling noise, akin to a purr.

A little canary bird sang the song of their love, and there they stayed, a picture-perfect family.

…

In the dead of night, Noah slipped out from rest mode. He sneaked out of bed, past the baby’s room, hopped over the creaky floor-boards, and went out of the front door. He turned to look out at his home, wondering if he should turn back while he still could. The house creaked and moaned for him to come back.

He did not.

Lights flickered on and off as he traveled the moon-lit streets. They illuminated his face in flashes, sometimes revealing determination, sometimes unveiling doubt. Noah turned to take a back route, one that would lead him to his destination faster. The cries of an infant ring from an nearby apartment, and a mother soothes him.

He ended up being late.

“You’re late,” Cecil mumbles. “But no matter.” He runs his eyes and fingers over the other’s face. “We have an eternity.”

Noah allowed Cecil’s hands to roam his face.

“You won’t hurt them, will you?”

Cecil smiled.

“Will you?”

Cecil smiled wider.

“Will you?”

The only response was a small kiss to the lips, and a whisper to his ears.

“She’s in love with a huge dumbass, I don’t think that’s possible.”

Perfect, Noah cursed himself, Just perfect.

~*~

“Noah, no.” His tongue stuck out.

“No.” It became a little more visible.

“No!” It was inches from the spoon.

“No!” He licked it. Charli sighed in defeat, and Noah took this as opportunity to stick the whole utensil in his mouth.

“I can’t believe I have to take care of two children.” Eli clapped his hands happily, and squealed. Noah shrugged, and went to find a spoon to feed the baby as well. “You are aware of the fact that we need the cake batter, to make the actual cake?”

Defiant, Noah scooped a noticeably large portion of the batter and gave it to Eli, who obediently inhaled the spoon. Charli whacked him on the arm, and he chuckled, kissing her cheek gently.

“You love me.” He teased.

“Sadly,” She grumbled, and set about grabbing other things, more thirium based things. Noah sat down to watch.

“I wanted to try the new thirium food processor.” She patted the machine. “It was… surprisingly cheap, seeing how expensive these things are in the market.”

“Oh? Where did you get it from?”

“Someone. A RK800. Seemed eager for me to take it off his hands.”

Noah paused,

“...Interesting.” Charli poured the thirium into the top of the machine, and pressed the necessary buttons.

It took a total of ten minutes before they were all sitting around the table. While Charli was busy trying to convince Eli to eat, Noah hesitantly placed a bite in his mouth.

Immediately, it felt as if something was constricting his innards, and his mind floated away from the current scene…

…

*Begin video transcript.

It would appear the apartment is full of… roses? A monitor sits on a corner, but it’s apparently off, the screen full of static.

Someone steps into view. RK800?

“You don’t know me, but I know you. I know you very, very well.”

The monitor flicks on, and a video of Noah and Charli playing the mud starts to play. The view zooms in, and places a circle around a figure in the trees. It smiled.

“I’ve been observing your actions, and I’ve come to realise something. You make me feel… special. You fill the void that rests in my soul. Meet me at 8 o’clock tonight. I want to talk.”

End video transcript*

…

...That was the trippiest spaghetti Noah had ever eaten in his life. And so he thought nothing of it, until later that night.

Eli had been in his cot, and the baby monitor had been silent. Noah and Charli had slipped into bed, and wished each other good night. At 3 in the morning, the sound of crying had kicked the RK900 out of standby. Fatigued, the father trudged heavily to the other bedroom.

Eli was choking.

As the poor infant’s face started to turn blue, Noah rushed to the side of the crib and patted his back as hard as he could. He had evidently dislodged it, as something landed with a tink on the wooden floorboards. Eli continued to cry.

Soothing the baby until the noise was reduced to sniffles, Noah placed the child back in his cot. He was still in a daze as he picked up the object. It was a golden heart locket with a bird, a canary, engraved on it. Noah clicked it open, and read its contents:

Roses are red

His face turned blue

Meet me before dawn

If you know what’s good for you :)

A small chirping noise came from the window. It was… a canary. It clasped the broken chain of the locket in its feet, and tilted its head back at Noah. Once it had flown away, Noah turned back to message, but all that was left was an adress. The RK900’s fists clenched, and with a barely lidded rage, he set off.

…

“I came. What the hell do you want?” He growled.

“You.” Came the simple answer. Noah hissed.

“You tried to kill a child. My child. What kind of sick fuck are you?” Cecil sighed, and dramatically draped his body across Noah, who recoiled in disgust.

“A lovesick one.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for your games. Tell me what you want, or so help me, I’ll leave-“ Cecil pressed a finger to his lips.

“Did you leave the stove on?” Noah wrenched the other’s hand away.

“Why would you ask me that-“

“Stoves left alone can kill people. Do you know how many fires are started by reckless people? I mean, something could get into the system…?” Noah growled again, and almost bit Cecil’s fingers off.

“Fine, what the hell do you want?”

“I already told you. You.”

“Why me?”

“You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

[cecilspeaks]

108 - Cal

There’s a billboard along the highway that reads: “Everything. Must. Go.”

Welcome to Night Vale.

I don’t talk much about my brother on this show. Cal. He visited the other day from his home out near Eagle Farm, up in the mountains. He looked gaunt and pale. When I opened the door, he was bracing himself against the porch beam with one arm and coughing.

Cal was holding a suitcase. It was old-fashioned, leather, the kind without wheels or an extendable handle. He drove to my house in a 1980 Mercury Monarch, brick red, four doors. The front left bumper was caved in and the headlight, which looked to have been taped into place, had loosened again and fallen forward. I asked Cal what had happened to his car. He didn’t know what I was talking about. I asked about the bumper and headlight, and he said, “That’s just how they make them, Cecil.” Them he teased me for not understanding cars and walked into my home before I could invite him in.

“Have you ever opened a box, only to find another box inside that box, and then you open that box and there was another box within it, and then you kept opening boxes hoping to find the last box. But the boxes became so small, your comparatively large fingers could no longer open them. Until the box was so tiny, you couldn’t see the box at all.”

I’m not sure what that means. It’s neither here nor there. Which is to say it’s nowhere. Aquí, ahí, todo el mundo, no hay nada.

I don’t know Spanish.

Yesterday afternoon, Hadassah McDaniels and the other five-headed dragons, outraged at the partial execution of Hadassah’s brother Hiram last fall, moved into City Hall. They displaced Mayor Cardinal and her staff, who then called upon the Sheriff’s Secret Police, and the rarely seen Double Secret Police – a police so secret that even their members do not know that they are members. Both the Secret and the very surprised Double Secret Police, just that morning informed of their jobs, showed up at City Hall and tried reasoning with the dragons. The dragons ignored the weak efforts of the police and made straight for City Council. The Council climbed up on the roof of city Hall, their many sharp appendages swinging down from their single giant body, punching out windows and grabbing whatever long dragon necks they could reach. And the City Council’s newest member, 16-year-old Tamika Flynn, the only member not connected to their primary form, rode on the rest of the council’s back with a long bow. The dragons breathed fire upward at the City Council, who shrieked in pain, or possibly delight. The battle ended when City Council was knocked off the roof by five-headed dragon and private estate lawyer, Dirk Andrews. The council, minus Tamika, retracted form the advancing dragons, called a Lyft and sped out of town, as they are wont to do in times of crisis.

Tamika paced at the edge of the City Hall lawn, cursing and thwacking a well-worn copy of Glen David Gould’s “Carter Beats the Devil” into her calloused palm. Above the City Hall, a long black slit was torn into the light blue sky, and no one reported seeing the moon.

When Cal entered my house, I offered him some tea, and then called Carlos to come join us. But Cal said he doesn’t drink, and Carlos didn’t respond to my calls. I told Cal it was just tea, no alcohol, and he said he doesn’t drink anything. I peaked into Carlos’ office, but he wasn’t there. Nothing was there. It was just an empty room. Carlos wasn’t gone, he had never been there. And for a moment I did not miss him, as for a moment, I did not remember he existed. It was just an empty room, I thought casually.

Cal sat down his suitcase and said, “You hear that Cecil? You hear that noise?” He pointed straight up. “In the firmament,” he said. “Do you hear it?” he repeated. I listened, and I heard. I heard paper being torn, I heard weeds being pulled, I heard – egg shells crumbling.

When I looked back to say yes, he was holding his hand to his mouth and lurching forward over the sink. A trickle of blood ran down the outside of his hand. I could see his tongue moving rapidly along the insides of his cheeks, as he let out small grunts. He finally removed his hand and spat sharply into the kitchen sink. I heard a loud rattling in the stainless steel basin and saw two teeth, unbroken, root, bones and all, lying in the strainer. I stared at them and remarked at how long a human tooth actually is.

Cal wiped his face and hands. “Nice to finally get rid of those,” he said as he tore off pieces of paper towel and wedged them into the holes in his gums. Then he asked, “You got a girlfriend or what, little brother?”

In my life with Cal, I’d never told him I would never have a girlfriend. In Night Vale, no one cared either way, but I felt like Cal would have. In this other reality, I was single. So I only said, “No.”

He shrugged and scratched his head. As he did, a patch of dark hair fell to the floor. We watched it fall, lilting and looping slowly downward.

Which falls faster, a brick or a tuft of hair? Carlos taught me this physics riddle. It’s a trick question. The brick falls faster, not because of its weight but because a brick falling is less horrifying than the unexpected loss of even a minor part of your body. Time does not slow down for that which is uninteresting.

“Hah, better not look in the mirror,” Cal said, as he nervously simulated the sound of laughter. A dribble of blood ran down his chin and onto his chest.

When the Public Library disappeared last week, no one celebrated nor mourned its absence, as we could barely remember it being there. In its place, a long black sliver of nothing. A hole in our universe, near which no one wanted to go. Except for Carlos, who’s a scientist and wants tot study everything, but I told him no way. The pteranodons which poured out of a similar hole inside the Rec Center last month have taken over the Barista District, building giant nests from canvas bean sacks and flyers promoting local bands and burlesque shows.

Near the City Hall, dozens of angels, more than I have ever seen at one time, are still surrounding the Hall of Public Records, demanding expedition of their application to be officially recognized as living beings. The angels are waving hand-drawn signs with phrases like “Look at us”. But their handwriting is so shaky as to make the typography quite distracting, so most bystanders did not notice the angels, but instead fixated on trying to read their signs. The angels are shouting, “It only works if you believe it does!” But as this sentence has an erratic rhythm, it didn’t catch on with many passers-by, many of whom were busy screaming and running from vengeance-minded dragons. Some even pointed into space and yelled, “The Distant Prince!” He’s less distant than ever before.

Cal told me stories of our youth. How, as kids, we would sneak out late at night and vandalize houses and cars for fun. Little things like stealing hood ornaments or placing live scorpions in mailboxes or making creepy ghost noises outside bedroom windows. He smiled as he regaled what was for him, a funny story of boys being boys, but I didn’t like his story. I could remember it, but I also knew it wasn’t real at all. In his story, I was prying loose the aluminum ram’s head at the front of a 1975 Dodge pickup with a flat head screwdriver. The truck was dark blue with tan leather bench seats. I remembered it was parked in front of a mid-century ranch style home with a rock garden full of succulents and herbs.

As Cal spoke, I could smell rosemary in the cool desert air.

Cal placed his hands on his belly, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “You OK?” I asked. “It’s just the after effects man,” Cal shrugged. “Hey, you remember when Mom used to take us to the library to read, but we would look up dirty words in the dictionary instead?” “Mom would have never put us in such danger,” I protested.

He stared at me for a moment, his head cocked sideways, an eyebrow raised. Then he lurched forward out of his seat onto his hands and knees and vomited onto the rug. We both stared at the viscous red stain concerned. No, not concerned – embarrassed.

Let’s have a look at the Community Calendar. This Thursday afternoon, the Faceless Old Woman and the Woman from Italy will be at the Night Vale Mall from noon to 4 PM, offering bespoke tortures for anyone who walks by. The Woman from Italy will recite the unlucky passers-by future pain, in the form of a catchy poem like:

[normal voice] The Woman from Italy will leave you in stitches. Not laughter, though she’ll laugh. A sound which is full of diabolical torment And wicked behavior, As she flays you before your friends and your neighbors. You’ll yet be alive when she opens your chest, The wet beat of your heart and the choke of your breath. She coos, “Don’t fear! It’s as quick as can be.” But in truth, there’s years left to this misery.

The Faceless Old Woman will simply write some harsh insults in silver sharpie on the side of an eggplant and hurl it at your family.

Saturday afternoon, the Night Vale PTA will be holding an emergency bake sale to raise money for the elementary school gym, recently burned down by Hadassah McDaniels. It’s also a clearance sale to finally get rid of the store room full of baked goods that have gone unsold the past two years.

Monday, another hole will open in the sky, and then another. Things will come, other things will go. I will remember that Michigan is a real state and its capital is Lansing. And that I once when camping with Cal and my mother, and some family friends, up near Higgins Lake when I was 9. Soon after knowing this, I will stop knowing it again.

This has been the Community Calendar.

I tried to explain to Cal that something was amiss. I had a sister, not a brother. I wasn’t single but married. I tried to show Cal photos of Abby, and of my husband, Carlos. But when I went to our photo albums, they were different. There were photos of Cal and I as children, but none of Abby or Carlos or Steve or Janice or this radio station. Noen of a recognizable Night vale.

Based on our clothing and the cars and the fashions, no photo was older than – I’d say the early 1980’s? There was a picture of me as a teenager at Cal’s wedding. I pointed at her and said, “Bethany. Still just as radiant, I bet.” 

And Cal said, “Don’t!” “How is she these days?” I asked Cal, and he pushed me and shouted, “Don’t!”

He started to cry. I kept my eyes down the hall toward the empty office. I knew someone should be in that empty room, someone I c ared for, someone I loved but – I didn’t know who.

Cal’s crying turned to sobbing and he isad, “I’m sorry I, I didn’t mean…” I put my arm around him and said softly: “I know, I know Cal. Shh. It’s OK.” “It’s just when you asked about Bethany,” he said. “You know she didn’t- she didn’t-“ He couldn’t finish the sentence, but I knew Bethany didn’t. That year, most people didn’t. But also that’s not how it happened. And also, I don’t have a brother.

He quivered in my arms, and above us, I heard the sky tearing open. Smoke in the distance. Most days I see distant smoke.

“You OK?” asked my brother. “Yes,” he said. “Thank you for… thank you for understanding.” “Sure thing, I said to him. “Please, leave my house.”

And now, the weather.

[“Robert Frost” by Mal Blum]

I don’t talk much about my brother on this show. Cal. Because he’s not my reality. I almost said he’s not real, but that’s not true. There is still a bloodstain on my rug, and a bruise from where he pushed me. I remembered Cal’s wedding. I remembered stealing hood ornaments. I remembered the smell of that rosemary bush in that rock garden. But then Cal left. He did not drive away, but vanished as the gash tore open above us. I had trouble remembering his visit, so I wrote it all down. I’m reading it now, to you, verbatim from my journal, and I cannot believe my own writing.

Carlos and his office are back. They were never gone, Carlos says. Multiple timelines is basic quantum physics, which is the most exciting kind of physics, he said. This morning, I gave Carlos a tight hug in bed and kissed him along the back of his beautiful hair – perfect, even when matted asymmetrically from sleep.

The angels are still standing around the Hall of Public Records, demanding that people look at them. There is one sign that says “We’re angels, and we’re totally real, and you’re making a huge mistake not acknowledging that. Trust us, we’re totally angels.” And while I appreciate the sentiment, I do think they’d be better served hiring a copywriter, or at least a decent graphic designer.

Holes are tearing open across the sky, and I can barely hear myself thinking most days.

The dragons have marched into the City Jail freeing all the inmates, mostly political prisoners being held for an unnamed international leader, as well as a handful of college-aged drunk tankers.

Mayor Cardinal, from her home, issued a statement about the disintegration of our town and bleeding together of realities. The statement reads: “My father, who died of liver cancer when I was five, has returned. He arrived from a hole in our reality. I am choosing to go with him, Night Vale. I am choosing the world where he did not die, where I did not kill my double, where dragons did not destroy our town. Listen to the ripping of the firmament and find a world you prefer, Night Vale. All else is pain.”

[sadly] Listeners. I beg you not to do this. This is the world we built, right here. If you leave, if you don’t accept it – [whispers] it cannot hold together.

Hold tight those you love, Night Vale. Not for fear of their loss, but for love of their presence. Hold onto what you know is real. Life is only a narrative, but it’s a narrative we write together.

Stay tuned next for – huh? Whatever was on the schedule for this month has all been scribbled out with charcoal. And with the same charcoal, someone has scrawled “A story about Huntokar” across the entire broadcast calendar. So stay tuned for that, I guess.

And for what it’s worth, and for however long our own narrative has left, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but you’ll catch even more with a corpse of some sort.

[seniorbrief]

18 Funny Christmas Jokes for the Merriest Holiday

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

The holiday season officially starts on the last Friday of November, when the first shopper is trampled at Walmart. But the holidays really begin on December 26, the day after last year’s Christmas, when your child formulated a gift demands wish list in preparation for the next haul.

For example, one seven-year-old girl wrote this list, to which her dad added his thoughts.

• “Black, light blue, green, purple, and pink North Faces.” Five North Face jackets at 100 bucks each? Dream smaller. That is apparel meant for serious outdoorsmen who dangle from belayed ropes on the south face of K2. The outdoorsiest we get is when we roll down the window at the Wendy’s drive-through.

• “A new radio.” Done. I’ll throw in my old Betamax collection as a stocking stuffer.

• “$1,000.” You want cash? Clear the spiders out of the attic. I’ll give you three bucks for it.

• “A light-up Razor scooter that is the color blue.” “Dad, for Christmas, can I get hit by a car?”

• “A new canape that glows up.” So, like, a glowing miniature crab cake with a toothpick in it? I could maybe do that.

• “A pet puppy border collie with a peace sign coller and a leash.” Do you see any borders in this house that need patrolling, apart from the bathroom door when Daddy is having his alone time? No.

• “A black rist bange.” I don’t know what this is, but done. —Drew Magary, from deadspin.com

Of course, gift giving may not be everyone’s strong suit.

One year, my father gave Mom a DVD. In and of itself it wasn’t a bad gift, except a) it was a rental, and b) we didn’t own a DVD player. —Amy Marshall Hodges, Canton, Michigan

Santa’s a pro, which is why kids bypass parents and appeal to him:

• “Dear Santa, Please text my dad. He has my whole list.”

• “Dear Santa, Sorry for what I did in the past, and thank you for the Christmas letter—I love it. But what I want for Christmas is $53 billion dollars.”

• “Dear Santa, How are you? I’m good. Here is what I want for Christmas: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0032HF60M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1410271945&sr=8-1” —Sources: wgna.com and someecards.com

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

What happens when kids’ letters arrive at the North Pole? Does Kringle and Co. sell the data to online marketers? We read the fine print on Santa’s website:

• Santa’s Privacy Policy: At Santa’s Workshop, your privacy is important to us. What follows is an explanation of how we collect and safeguard your personal information.

• Why Do We Need This Information? Santa Claus requires your information in order to compile his annual list of who is Naughty and who is Nice and to ensure accuracy when he checks it twice.

• What Information Do We Collect? We obtain information from the unsolicited letters sent to Santa by children all over the world listing specific items they would like to receive for Christmas. Often these letters convey additional information, such as which of their siblings are doodyheads. The letters also provide another important piece of information—fingerprints. We run these through databases maintained by the FBI, CIA, NSA, Interpol, MI6, and the Mossad. If we find a match, it goes straight on the Naughty List.

• What Do We Do with the Information We Collect? Sharing is one of the joys of Christmas. For this reason, we share your personal information with unaffiliated third parties: the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Hanukkah Harry. —Laurence Hughes, from McSweeney’s Internet Tendency

The gift list is done, and there’s a nip in the air—time to get your gaudy on!

My daughter and I took the long route through the neighborhood to admire the Christmas decorations. One yard contained a trove of lights, ornaments, elves, carolers, trimmings … in short, it was a mess. My daughter summed it up perfectly when she announced, “It looks like Christmas threw up.” —Cecille Hansen, Seattle, Washington

Do you hear what I hear? That’s right; music is filling the air! Have you downloaded the latest holiday album? It had them boogying in the streets of Bethlehem centuries ago!

The Little Drummer Boy’s Greatest Hits: Includes the songs “Pum Pum Pum Pum,” “Rum Pum Pum,” “Ba Rum Pum Pum,” “Rum Pum Pum Ba Rum Pum Pum,” and special bonus track “Pum Pum Pum, Ba Rum Pum Pum.” —Source: someecards.com

Hope you like schmaltzy, sentimental holiday movies because that’s what will be playing on cable 24/7 for the entire month. In case you’ve forgotten these films you’ve seen only 47 times, some brief reviews:

• How the Grinch Stole Christmas: “Crimes against Who-manity”

• A Christmas Carol: “Bob, Marley”

• Elf: “A Christmas Ferrell” —Source: fwfr.com

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

Next, the tree. Note: The real trick isn’t picking the right pine. It’s getting it inside your home. But with our 15-point plan, you’ll be trimming in no time.

1) Cut the cords that bind the tree to the roof of your car. Allow them to snap back and strike you in the eye.

2) Curse.

3) Slowly pull the tree toward you.

4) Wobble under its weight for a few seconds, then fall down.

5) Curse.

6) Stand up and notice the fresh scratches in the roof of your car.

7) Curse.

8) Drag the tree to your front door. Spend 15 minutes figuring out how to open the door while simultaneously getting the tree through it.

9) Drag the tree away from the door so that you can enter with the tree facing in the right direction.

10) Once inside, fill the tree stand with water.

11) Knock all the water out of the tree stand because you forgot to wait to fill the tree stand until after putting the tree in it.

12) Curse.

13) Your tree should now be in the stand. Notice the fallen needles that have reduced your tree to half the size it was when you bought it.

14) Down seven cups of eggnog to settle your nerves.

15) Slur your curses.

You’re not home free yet. Much more can go wrong!

Securing Christmas lights to the tree can be a production. One year, when we finally stood back and flicked on the light switch, I noticed that a branch obscured our prized angel ornament. I grabbed the pruning shears, mounted a stool, and snipped once, and the lights went out. My husband quietly said, “You don’t have your glasses on, do you?”—Lynn Kitchen, Parksville, British Columbia

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

Your Christmas tree has practically become a member of the family: The needy, spoiled, flamboyant side that knows when it’s time to go:

“All that time spent selecting and decorating, and a week after [Christmas], you see the tree by the side of the road, like a mob hit. A car slows down, a door opens, and a tree rolls out.” —Jerry Seinfeld

Let’s relax and read Christmas cards! Far more than just holiday greetings, they allow you to finally see what your accountant’s family looks like.

We once received a card with a photograph of a family in costumes and masks. No name, no text, no return address. We never did figure out who sent it.—Glynis Buschmann, Yuba City, California

Would you like to learn how to write a boastful, overly intimate holiday newsletter? Our indispensable how-to guide can help, illustrated with real quotes.

• Open strong with a passive-aggressive attack on a loved one: “[This year is] barreling to a close as Deborah spends yet another Saturday at the wine shop.”

• Brag about any new job developments—especially if you don’t deserve them: “I got promoted this year to VP … shows how little they really know about my past!!!”

• Be creative! Even good news can be delivered so the reader cringes: “[My wife has] felt almost every negative feeling you can have during a pregnancy—nausea, fatigue, rashes, arthritis, sciatic nerve pain, hip pains, and strong emotional conditions.”

• If you want to cement your status as least favorite distant cousins, just write the most dreaded words in the English language: “We thought it would be cool if we shared what’s going on as a PowerPoint presentation.” —Sources: gawker.com, worstchristmasletters.blogspot.com, Brandon Specktor

There are those who live by the credo that it is better to give than to receive. These people are, of course, fools. Still, without them, we wouldn’t get as many presents. An ad spotted in a newspaper:

“Congratulations George B. for pleasing 15 women for an entire day! We were all exhausted and very satisfied.”

The next day’s ad: “Our sincere apology to George B. Our intentions were to thank him for a generous holiday shopping trip, which he arranged. Any inappropriate innuendos were unintentional.” —Source: clamorly.com

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

Wait, we all know that presents are not what Christmas is all about. (Actually, they are. But for argument’s sake, let’s pretend they’re not.) Let us pause while these children remind us about the story of Christmas:

What animals were there when baby Jesus was born?

“There was a donkey, a sheep, and a cow there as well as Mary and Joseph. It sounds quite crowded.” Hannah, age seven

What gifts did the three wise men bring?

“They brought Jesus presents of gold, frankincense, smurr, and silver. But I think he would have preferred wrestling toys.” Jay, age five —From the Daily Mail

OK, enough pretending. Give us the presents already!

Scene: Christmas morning, and I’m opening my gifts.

Dad: “Open that one next, sweetie.”

(He points to a box, which I open. Inside is one of those obnoxious singing-and-dancing robot Christmas trees. I’m a bit shocked, as I had pointed out how much I hate these things when we went shopping the week before.)

Me: “Uh, weren’t you listening when I said I thought these were the most annoying things ever?”

Dad: “I know, I know. But … open that one next.” (This time he points to a long, heavy package. I open it up to reveal a sledgehammer.)

Me: “Is this for what I think it’s for?”

Dad: “And you thought I wasn’t paying attention!”

From notalwaysrelated.com

Even the family pet takes part.

My First Toy

My first toy

Has wood for me to claw

My first toy

Has string for me to bite

My first toy

Has a hole for me to hide in

My first toy

Is called, “Oh, dear God, no!

My guitar!”

My first toy

Is the best toy of them all.

—Francesco Marciulano, from the book I Knead My Mommy, And Other Poems by Kittens (Chronicle Books)

The gifts are opened, the eggnog consumed, and your kid has begun a demands wish list for next year. If you’re feeling woozy, it may be because you’ve contracted at least one of these seasonal maladies:

• Pay Saks Disease: A mania for buying gifts and abusing credit lines, followed by a compulsive urge to carry ten shopping bags at once.

• Seasonal Affection Disorder (SAD): An exaggerated emotional response (typically shrieking and air-kissing) triggered by seeing insignificant acquaintances at annual parties.

• Gift-aphasia: Loss of memory that causes the accidental recycling of gifts back to the same people who gave them to you last year.

—Bob Morris, from New York Observer

Original Source -> 18 Funny Christmas Jokes for the Merriest Holiday

source https://www.seniorbrief.com/18-funny-christmas-jokes-for-the-merriest-holiday/

[countrymusiclover]

36 - Family under one roof

Part 37

The Siphoning Princess

Tag list [ @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @onentaien-kwara @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Flipping a page in the lengthy spell book I rested my chin in the palm of my freehand till hearing footsteps coming down the hallway and someone gently tapping their hand on my open bedroom door. “Hey honey, can we talk for a second?”

“Yeah, sure. What do you want to talk about?” Raising my head up I smiled seeing my husband standing in the doorway.

He entered the bedroom sitting beside me on the bed brushing hair out of my face when I lifted my head to look into his eyes. “I just wanted to come make sure that you're okay after coming back from our land. Regina told me that it was all destroyed when the curse was cast the night the girls were born.”

“Our castle is rubble. But I don’t think all of it was destroyed from the curse.” Shifting my gaze briefly down to the book that I had opened. I had been reading up to see if there was any way to create a portal back to a land with magic. “There is something I haven’t stopped thinking about since we came back here though.”

Charming asked me softly. “And what’s that?”

“What if I could find a portal back to the enchanted forest. Would you, would you and the kids come with me?”

He stared at me for a brief moment before grinning brightly in my direction. “I'll go anywhere with you, Jaide. And I'm sure Cecile and Henry would be thrilled to live in our land like they have been talking about since the curse was broken. I'm just curious about one thing though, why the sudden desire to go back after you fought so hard to get back here to Storybrooke?”

“My mother is back there. She apparently went back to her kingdom. It’s called Corona.” I responded to his question, holding up the open spell book showing him a page talking about portals. “There’s more books in my fathers shop. But I didn’t want to go all in if you don’t think this is something we should do.”

My husband leans forward kissing me slowly. “I don’t want to die here. I want us to go back to our original home too.”

“What do we do about Emma though. Would she come back there with us?” Biting my lip the thought of our other daughter coming to my mind.

He licked his lips, sighing heavily. “This world has been nice to her from what we can tell.”

“So then we will have to find a way to convince her to follow her family.” Sitting the book back down in my lap, I shifted my gaze over to a picture of me and my family sitting on my dresser. “Let’s talk about this later. I think it’s time we have our whole family living under one roof, at least until we live in a castle again.”

Charming nodded tucking hair behind my ear, getting up from the bed and offering me a hand to take. “Then let’s start moving things around this house.”

“First and foremost we have to go to my fathers pawnshop.” Placing my hand in his I let him tug me up to stand with him. “I want our unicorns back in our home.”

“There you are. I thought you were out horseback riding like you do before going to bed.” Charming entered our shared bed chambers finding me reading over a piece of paper that was in my hands.

“Not tonight unfortunately. I was getting ready until a bird came in and delivered this through the window.” Gesturing with my freehand I pointed up to the glass unicorns hanging up behind me.

My husband stopped in front of me, meeting my gaze. “Who sent it and how did they get it inside?”

“What do you think, magic?” I giggled up at him handing him the letter.

He read it aloud even though I had already silently read it over myself before he came into the nursery. “Jaide-Renae, I found this in your old bedroom back in my castle and so I thought you and your prince would want them for your children - Rumplestilskin.”

“So how do you feel about them, hmm. Do you think the twins will like it?” I asked him with a curious smile on my face.

Charming sat down the scroll of paper, gently bringing one of his hands to cradle the side of my face. “If you like it then I’m sure they will too. Now, come on. I think it’s time we get some sleep.”

“I love you.” I whispered kissing his cheek before we started getting ready for bed and that night I dreamed of the day when my kids would sleep with the unicorns hanging over them.

David climbed down the ladder while I stood in the doorway of Cecile’s bedroom. The glass white and blue unicorns dangled in the center of the room as a chandelier. He dusted his hands on his jeans looking over at me. “There we go. Now we just have to hope that the girls don't mind sharing a bedroom.”

“Cecile won't mind. I'm not certain on Emma. But I hope she likes it.” Clasping my hands together I slumped my shoulders. “Until we find a way back home I want us to make this small living situation work for us. To have my family under one roof after 28 years.”

The front door could be heard being opened where I stepped out into the hallway hearing tiny feet come rushing towards me. “Mama!” Cecile leaped up into my arms and I held her in my arms gently.

“I hope you don't mind but I took her out for some ice cream when I picked her and Henry up from school.” Emma came down the hall, removing her coat about to go into the space room until I stopped her.

“It's fine. I have a surprise for the two of you actually. Come on, I'll show you.”

Emma paused in the doorway of the bedroom seeing her father standing underneath the glass chandelier. “A princess bed!” Cecile jumped from my arms going over to her bed which was decorated in pinks and had a crown sticker on the headboard and was on one side of the room. Emma's bed had been moved to the other side and we had moved all her things into there, leaving the spare room available for her son Henry.

“Mom, David. What is all this for?”

Charming came to stand beside me, intertwining our hands together gently. “This was your mother's idea. I just helped with the heavy lifting.”

“Now that we are all back together I realized that my dream of having my family under one roof is possible after all these years. We get to be a real family together.” I began explaining seeing my eldest daughter make a face, unsure of the situation. “I know what you’re thinking and it will be somewhat cramped but everyone will get a bedroom. Charming and I will share one, Henry gets the guest room if he wants to move in with us and as long as your okay with it - I know you're sister would love to share a room with her twin - uh i mean big sister.”

Cecile came over hugging Emma by the waist grinning ear to ear up at her. “Sister's share a room!”

“What do you think, Emma?” I blankly asked the question knowing she hadn't said anything yet.

She cleared her throat briefly staring down at her sister. “I've never had a good roommate and it will be cramped for sure. But - I have a feeling we are going to get along just fine, little sis.”She scooped her sister up into her arms smiling back at her.

“See you had nothing to worry about, Jaide.” Charming kissed the side of my head and I smiled up at him. Our family wasn't going to be separated again if I could help it.