#good lord these image descriptions took me a lifetime

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - v (King!Steven x Reader)

Chapter Summary: Two months after the reader’s marriage to King Steven, she learns what appears to be the truth hidden in the dungeon. 

Warnings: description of wounds, anxiety, no Steve in this chapter, talks of infertility

Word Count: 2.5k

<-Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Weeks after your marriage and the coronation that took place soon after, the crown still sat heavy at the top of your head. The weight would nearly be unbearable if it weren’t for your husband who ruled by your side. The smiles on your faces were never forced and life began to settle into an easy, steady pace. However, as the people grew accustomed to calling you their queen, they increasingly became impatient and displeased when two months has passed, and you still weren’t with child. The Rogers’ line would stop and end with Steven if he were to die without an heir.

You worried about your competency. Among the many duties of the queen, providing heirs was at the top of that list and you were still unsuccessful. However, King Steven sought to be your rock in this troubling time with your wavering confidence, assuring you that you both had a lifetime of providing heirs and to not rush it.  

Even with the king’s constant assurance and kind words, you still felt like a failure.

The children of the orphanage cheered as soon as you walked through the building’s threshold. The little ones ran up to you and clung at your legs, nearly knocking you over if it weren’t for Natasha’s quick hands that shot out and steadied you. You laughed as you decided to crouch down to be eye-level with the children and opened your arms out to let them hug you. It was Sister Mary, the woman in charge of the orphanage, who disbanded the children and told the little ones to leave you be. The little ones dispersed – some going in the back gardens to play in the fountain your husband donated years ago, others playing in the courtyard, while some played inside.

One of the little girls, Abagail, took your hand and eagerly led you to her toys. You didn’t miss the way that Sister Mary eyed your midsection to peak if you would be showing any signs of a pregnancy. You saw her face fall with disappointment she realized you still had the same body as you did during the coronation.

“Everyone really wants you to have a baby,” Abagail whispered to you. You smiled at her and nodded. “Sister Mary keeps talking about how you disappoint the king because you aren’t pregnant.”

Your smile fell slightly as you listened to the little girl. She was young – you remembered Sister Mary telling you she was six on your first visit. She didn’t really know boundaries yet. “Really?” You asked.

“Yes… she says how the king’s wives are cursed with infertility and how the king grows angry and eventually kills – “

“Abagail!” Sister Mary called the little girl’s attention. The woman comes over and ushers the little girl away but the girl stood her ground. “I’m sorry, your grace. The little ones have such vivid imaginations.”

“I, too, have vivid imaginations.” You stood and shook your head. “Abby meant no harm, did you?” She shook her head with a pout as Sister Mary tells her to play with the children outside. As soon as Abagail was out of earshot, you took a step towards Sister Mary and gave her a smile. “Children are innocent. They only repeat what they hear. I only hope that you teach the children the truth. Because what she was about to say is defamatory towards the king. And I wonder how the king would tolerate such slander.”

“Of course, your grace.” She bowed her head, but her words weren’t true. She was only saying them out of duty – not respect. You were about to retaliate when Wanda called your attention.

“Your majesty,” Wanda spoke up. Your two ladies noticing the tension between you and the nun. “We should journey back to the castle. The king must be eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“Yes.” You nodded. You glanced at Sister Mary once more and gave her another smile before making your way to the carriage.

“I only hope for your sake, your grace, that it is only rumors.” You stopped in your tracks and swallowed. You frowned as you told Natasha and Wanda that you’d meet them outside. The two ladies hesitantly walked out. You turned and glared at the nun.

“Pardon?”

“The king is cruel,” her voice was hushed but her face feigned respect and politeness. Her smile was teasing as if she knew something you didn’t. “Or at least that’s what the rumors say.” She stared at you with cold eyes and no fear. She wasn’t afraid that she was speaking out against the king in front of her queen. She believed she told the truth.

“Watch your tongue.” You snapped. A few of the children’s heads popped up at your tone. You took a deep breath to compose yourself. You didn’t want to make a scene, but the crone overstepped. “You are speaking of my husband, your king… Watch. Your. Tongue, Sister Mary.”

Sister Mary reached out suddenly and seized your wrists as she examined the now faded cuts. “I see these every time you come… I can’t help but wonder where they came from.”

“They’re not from the king. Not that it’s your business.” You muttered, snatching your hands away. “Steven is a good man and has proven to be a great king. How dare you speak of him – “

“Are you saying that to convince me or yourself? I’ve lived long under King Steven’s rule, girl. I’ve been here since Margaret and since Sharon. I’ve seen the haunted looks on their faces. I wonder how long it will be until the king breaks you down, too. And here they call the Thanos the Mad King when Brooken has harbored one for years.”

You were speechless and shaking with rage. You bit on your tongue, hard – so hard that you tasted the metallic taste of your own blood – before you turned away and rushed out. Natasha and Wanda were already in the carriage when Ser Pietro helped you in.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

You were silent as you wiped your hands on your skirts. The carriage jostled a bit as the horses began to move. Natasha and Wanda glanced over at each other after several minutes of silence. Your irritation and anger evident in the lines of your frown as you drifted off into your mind.

The king had been nothing but kind to you in your time together. Each and every day as you both grew closer to one another, he had proven the rumors wrong. You believed he was misrepresented in York – that the servants created an image of a monster to justify the war between the North. Steven had shown you no cruelty – aside from the prisoners in the dungeon. But they were traitors who conspired against their king. Even your father would’ve shown them no mercy. It was what a king had to do… right?

“(Y/N)…” Your head snapped up and met Wanda’s concerned stare. She reached out and grabbed your hand, which you hadn’t realized had been rubbing the skin of your wrist raw. “You’ll reinjure your wrist. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” you muttered.

“The old crone is well, old. Don’t take her words to heart.” Natasha encouraged. “The king has been nothing but a delight has he not?”

“He has, indeed.” You nodded.

“And again, your father wouldn’t have married you off to a cruel monster.” Wanda piped up. She gave your hand a tight squeeze and offered you a smile. “Sister Mary’s like everyone else… They just can’t wait until your belly swells with a child. Brooken has waited long enough.”

“I’m not quite sure if I’m … able.” You confessed. Wanda and Natasha scoffed in response. The two girls babbled on about it being too soon to tell. “It’s been two months since the marriage. Steven and I have shared our bed for two months now and I’m still not pregnant. I’m afraid I’m a disappointment to all.”

“Don’t say that.” Natasha waved her hand. “Two months is too soon to tell, (Y/N). Besides, you heard what the doctors, the midwives, the maesters say. There’s certain periods throughout the month that make chances of conception optimal. Just because you two go at it nightly,” you flushed at her words as you stuttered a rebuttal. She held her hand up to silence you. “We’ve heard it all. Big castle, thick walls. But we’ve heard.”

“Nat – “you groaned. Your hands covered your face, bashfully.

You three laughed at your embarrassment. Natasha giggled and leaned over to grab your hand. “You needn’t worry… It’ll happen in time.”

“I hope you’re right.”

»————-　⚜　————-««

As soon as your ladies and you arrived to the castle, you were immediately greeted by Lord Rumlow and Pierce.

“I trust the visit to the orphanage went well?” Lord Pierce asked you as he bowed.

“It was lovely as it always is.” You grinned at the two lords. You wondered why they were awaiting for your arrival – or why they were speaking to you at all. Lord Pierce didn’t like you, or at least you believed he didn’t because of how he wasn’t as welcoming as Lord Barnes or Lord Wilson. Lord Rumlow simply always gave you a bad feeling just by standing beneath his stare. You knew of Steven’s distaste for the two men – especially Brock, who was next in line due to being Steven’s next blood relative. “What have I done to have you two bless me with your presence?”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly at your words. They were teasing and sarcastic. He definitely saw your father in you. “We have urgent matters to discuss with the queen.” He glanced over at Natasha and Wanda who were watching the two men warily with curious frowns. “Alone, of course. It’s a matter of the council.”

“Shouldn’t my husband be in charge of this then?” You asked.

Lord Rumlow shook his head. “The new Brooken Queen must know of this matter as well. The king is very much versed.”

“Very well.” You nodded. “You may go.” You told your ladies. You exchanged confused glances before turning to the men. “Lead the way, gentlemen.”

“Of course.” Alexander nodded. He glanced over at Brock who offered you his arm and you hesitantly took it.

The walk was awkward to say the least. The two men weren’t the most ideal conversationalist and the curious stares of the servants as you passed by them did not help. Were you being led into a trap?

“Does my cousin treat you right?” Lord Rumlow asked suddenly as they turned into a familiar corridor. Your brows shot up when you realized they were leading you towards the dungeon.

“Yes, of course. King Steven has been nothing but a blessing in these past two months.” You said, honestly. You had no reason to doubt it, either.

“And the marriage… consummated?” Lord Pierce asked.

“Yes.” You answered. The two men glanced at one another as they slowly descended the steps that led to the dungeon. “Where are we going?”

“We’re acquainting you with what Steven really is…” Lord Pierce answered ominously. Your frown deepened as you tried to pull your arm away from Brock’s, but the Lord tightened his grip on you.

“Unhand me.” You ordered.

“I can’t, (Y/N).” He muttered as he pulled you along.

The men pulled you into the hall. The barred prisons with badly shaped men welcomed you. The stench assaulted your nostrils and nearly made you vomit. You passed by a man, huddled in the corner. He was asleep – or at least you hoped he was – and his mouth was wide open allowing his drool to escape. He had no teeth and his gums were bloody.

You gasped, taking a step back. You felt someone grab at your skirts. You let out a shriek as another man, so skinny you saw his ribs, grabbed at the bottom of your dress through the bars. His fingernails had been ripped off, bits of his skin seemed to have been flayed.

“What is this?” You snapped.

“Sharon?” One of the prisoners asked, his voice quaking. The vocal chords dry. You frowned, feeling your heart drop.

“These are the men that the king has imprisoned.” Pierce explained. “Good men, for the most part.”

“Steven wouldn’t have imprisoned these men for being good. There must’ve been a reason.” You argued. “Steven’s a good king.”

“Look at these men and tell me what good man would torture men to this degree?” Lord Pierce inquired. You shook your head.

“Steven said these men are traitors. He wants a bright future for Brooken and he imprisoned traitors who conspire against him. He only tortures because he… he’s looking for those who are plotting against the king.” Your voice broke as you began to shake. Tears threaten to spill but you held them in. You didn’t want to cry in front of these men  –  you didn’t want to look weak. You pried your hand from Brock’s grip and stumbled backwards.

“These men’s only crime was that the queen favored them.” Brock explained, grimly. “Sharon was a jewel … Young, tall, beautiful. Men grew fascinated with her and wanted the queen’s favor over the king’s. In a jealous rage, the king imprisoned those who preferred his wife.”

“No – “

“Sharon?” Another voice called. Drier than the other man.

“These men are haunted from what they’ve witnessed. Do you know what happened to Queen Sharon?” Brock asked. “Or Queen Margaret?”

“They died tragic deaths but not at the king’s hands!” You snapped. The two men stood silently as they shook their heads. They stared at you with pity as you peered through the prison. You’ve been to York’s prisons once – maybe twice – and they weren’t in this condition. The men weren’t starved, tortured. They were fed properly until their trials. “Why are you doing this?”

“You must know the monster that sits on the throne next to you.” Pierce said. “Do you know what happened to the two queens before you?”

“No.” You gave in to what they wanted. If they wanted to explain, so be it. “No, I do not.” Why was everyone tearing down the happiness you were building now after two months? Why wouldn’t anyone tell you before?

“Queen Margaret and the king fought relentlessly for months. He needs heirs. She didn’t want to bear a child. They fought and fought. Until one day, the king finally had enough of her. He stabbed her through the heart in the throne room. No one saw except for the council. No one knew how to react. No one wanted to act out against the king. So, we watched her bleed out on the floor as she stared at the man she loved, who took away her life.

Queen Sharon was defiant. She refused to sleep in the same bed chamber as the king. He needed an heir. She steadily turned him away. These men,” Pierce gestured to the prisoners, “all wanted favor with the queen. Steven thought she was attempting to start a coup against him. When it was proven she was not, it made him believe that these men were her lovers. So, in an act of cruelty, the king beheaded her in front of them.” He pointed to where you were standing – in the center of the room where all could see you. “Right where you’re standing.”

“That’s the man you married, Queen (Y/N).” Brock said. “That’s the true King Steven.”

Your eyes watered, but still, you refused to cry. “I’d like to leave now.”

“We will accompany you, then.” Lord Rumlow nodded. He offered his arm again but you refused. You turned around, ignoring the pleas and the begs from the prisoners and walked up the stairs in silence.

You winced as the bright sunlight welcomed you, contrasting with the darkness of the dungeon. You turned to the two men and bowed your head as they bowed to you. “Thank you for this ... er... eyeopening excursion, my lords.” You felt your voice crack at the end but you remained calm. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Likewise, your grace.” Pierce nodded before you walked off.

Unbeknownst to you, King Steven was peering around the corner and his fists were shaking with rage.

[ohnohetaliasues]

Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 1}

(Kat)

This is going to be the worst thing I’ve ever read, isn’t it?

Am I going to actively want to die? Yes, most likely. But apparently, because I run a blog like this, I can endure suffering.

Flashbacks to Blood Raining Night.

Here we go. We will start with the introduction, written by the onion lord himself.

I want to be direct, my name is Greg. I go by “Onision” online.

Okay, I dunno what it is, but something feels off about this sentence.

This book is made up of events that occurred in my own life mixed with fiction from the made up life of James. James is essentially a better version of myself.

I can’t imagine how good that could be, seeing as the man who wrote this is a child predator and is just an overall piece of hot garbage.

His home, his school & his life all resemble my own at his age.

Don’t ever use a fucking ampersand instead of the word ‘and.’ It’s just bad grammar.

The people James analyzes and is surrounded by are not so unlike those I’ve known as well.

Analyzes?

Why?

I have experienced much of the loss James has however his happier moments are more often than not also mine.

Then write a memoir. Not this.

I want to share my story without it being purely non-fiction.

I mean, some people do this with books about their lives, but this feels... Odd?

I simply felt this approach would make for a far better book. At points I cried while writing this, at others I laughed.

Congratulations.

I don’t care.

Stones To Abbigale is not just a book I wrote, it is a piece of who I am.

That’s a given for all writers, but I still don’t care. 

I’m going to rip this book to shreds.

Okay here we go.

I was asleep until I met her, but when I woke, I learned the meaning of "perfect imperfection."

Is this Onion boy trying to be poetic?

It actually made me want to die.

I've always been the type of person to focus on stars as we spin beneath them, the cool breeze on a sunny day, scattered patches of grass under my feet, the world around me, often forgetting to even glance at the one within.

‘The one within.’

Okay so the way this is written makes those three things seem disconnected. I often do stuff like this when I write, but I’d write it like ‘as we spin beneath them, focus on the breeze on a sunny day, on the scattered patches of grass, etc.’

You couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to rewrite that garbage sentence. This is all very waxing poetic and not in a good well structured way.

I had remained emotionally unexplored for so much of my life.

That must’ve been boring, not experiencing human emotions like the rest of us.

You sociopath, you.

It's painful knowing some can go an entire lifetime without understanding their own heart, an internal lock waiting for the right key to change everything.

Yeah, whatever, shut the hell up, you whiny idiot.

This is like an introduction by a teenager who just opened a poetry book and was like ‘yup. I wanna write like that.’

Except you aren’t William Blake or Walt Whitman and you never will be.

Sorry, Onion boy.

Except I’m not.

Die mad about it, grease ball.

It was the first Monday of November. I opened my eyes, blinded by my recently painted wall-to-wall white room. Even my bed frame, constructed of purely metal, was painted white.

Okay, cool. I’m a descriptive writer and I take every chance I can get to mention details, but even I find this description awkward. It feels irrelevant in this situation.

It bounced off the walls causing my eyelids to desperately clamp together. Painting my room like this was a clear act of subtle self-inflicted psychological torture.

Then why in the sweet hell did you do it? Do you enjoy suffering?

Actually, he probably does.

Because this is edgy as hell.

I was going through another phase, from darkness to light, and repeat. Seemed like the story of my life.

This is so edgy I am in physical pain.

You know your symbolism is good when it’s so random that you have to point it out and explain it to your audience.

My mom could see the darker colors were depressing me, I felt comforted by them, but found there were good aspects of both extremes. I was happy to visit either side, they are both so simple. But right now the intense light bouncing from wall to wall felt like it was ripping my mind in two.

Am I an idiot or is that just... word salad?

My mom didn't wake me. My alarm clock sat on my dresser with no explanation for it's failure to function. The clock only illuminated a blank stare with 8:17 written all over it's face. While entirely robotic, I imagined the clock to have the dumbest possible expression, one complementing its failure to behave any way outside its random glitch-infested nature.

That was the worst way to write a personification ever, but okay.

In the reflection of it's plastic face I could see myself unconsciously making the dumb expression I was imaging the clock to have. I laughed in my casual dorky tone and began to get ready to leave home.

I’m not laughing, idiot.

Without breakfast, I left for school with a bogus note in hand to idealistically explain my tardiness.

You... You wrote a fake note?

Do you realize you could get in trouble for that?

You’re an idiot.

I think most of my teachers were too exhausted to worry about small variances in our appearance from time to time. With how low their pay likely was, I imagined there were very few rules most teachers cared about.

That isn’t true at all. Teachers have to pay attention to rules unless they want to get, I dunno, fired.

It was another cold day in Lakewood. The wind hit my eyes forcing tears to form in the corners as I sped along the sidewalk at a no-doubt unreasonable speed.

I cannot imagine any good imagery for this scene. I’m just imagining this gif:

I passed Lauren and Raymon walking the opposite direction, no doubt headed toward the nearby church where all the students go to smoke, make out and hide out till school ends.

Um okay. Does this guy know that if characters don’t have relivance to the story, if they have no reason to be named, than they don’t have to be?

No.

Because he’s a 34 year old man baby.

They seemed so childish as they held hands and smiled excitedly as if they had gotten away with some tremendous crime.

That sentence seems so robotic I genuinely can’t.

Mr. Hanson, my heavy-set, middle-aged history teacher, rolled his eyes as I walked into class. "James, talk to me after class" he said quickly, looking away from me as if I were an undervalued employee who was barely important enough to make eye contact with let alone deliver a full sentence to.

It bothers me so deeply that a new paragraph wasn’t started when this character talked.

"I have a note," I said. He ignored me, and continued his lecture on yet another topic that would not only be completely useless later in life, but wasn't even relevant for even a few seconds after the words left his mouth.

Why is this teacher acting like a petty teenager?

I’m deeply annoyed by this.

And yeah, it’s relevant. You have tests, you idiot. Take notes. And it’s also history, which is, again, relevant.

In conclusion, shut your mouth and stop bitching.

There was only 15 minutes left in the class, but I felt it would be more stimulating to integrate myself into the room to yet again study my classmates' behavior than to sit in a hall watching the rows of scum covered tiles inevitably slide off the decaying walls.

That’s a health code violation, friends.

Or Onion is an awful writer and he thinks describing a school like this is a good idea. My money is on that.

For as long as I remember I've enjoyed seeing how people move around and talk to each other, like they're all animals at the zoo.

Something is wrong with you, friend. Liking to people watch is one thing, but doing shit like this is something else entirely.

Uh, try sociopath-like?

Creepy as hell?

We’ll go with both.

I would try to deliver a more accurate analogy if I felt there was one

Bitch, there is. I can’t name one off the top of my head because reading this makes me feel like my brain is melting out of my ears, but I’m 100% sure there is a better analogy. Even though this feels more like a simile.

but so many of them seemed incredibly unaware of themselves, just living life as if it were some generic predefined routine.

Oh, and you’re so much better obviously, you pretentious bastard.

Sometimes I felt like an alien who had a VIP pass to submerge myself in primitive human culture just for entertainment.

Congratulations, that’s also what you sound like.

I sense everything I can take in around me. The seemingly limitless audible tones, tremors in the voices of growing children rang in my ears. In studying people, I found myself gradually learning to literally feel the various personality types I encountered.

Do you... Do you have psychic powers?

If not, shut your damn mouth.

I hyper analyzed every inconsistent smell, the seemingly random clothing styles, freckles, and assorted hairstyles filled my mind with questions. Trying to rationalize and understand what sequence of events led them to decide who they would become.

You are the most pretentious protagonist I have ever read. I’m half a chapter in and I already fucking hate you.

This character is so poorly written and immediately unlikable. i cannot relate to him at all and if someone does, I suggest you go get some help because how this asshole is behaving doesn’t sound human.

I took favor of categorizing most everyone around me. The socially inept know-it-all, the dumb attention-seeking drama kid

On behalf of all drama kids, go fuck yourself.

and the bleach blonde bimbo who gets overly defensive at the slightest hint of criticism.

Do you mean you?

Onion obviously didn’t let anyone edit this garbage.

Then there were the kids who just hoped no one noticed them at all. There was so much to be seen, to be considered and organized in my mind.

Mhm.

I don’t care.

Class had just ended so I walked over to Mr. Hanson's' desk &

And*

placed the tardy note down in passing. As I walked out with the rest of my class, he called after me. "James! We still need to talk!" I responded but continued to walk outside the room. "I have to be early to my next class! Let's talk tomorrow!"

You’re an asshole.

And I hate you.

I walked quickly down the hall towards my art class, which was awkwardly placed in a trailer outside my clearly poorly funded high school.

Um.

Okay.

On my way to the class a fight had already broken out between two jocks who, no doubt, both had controlling, iron-fisted fathers who brainwashed them into believing conflicts between men are best resolved with the bloodying of their fists.

That’s a bold thing to assume, dear Onion.

These kinds of men plagued my mind with wonder. I could not conceive a scenario in which they could justify their primitive & pointless mentalities yet they would always continue to perpetuate their self-destructive attitudes as if it offered the slightest legitimate benefit.

Oh, shut your pretentious mouth.

Most everyone nearby crowded around the fight. None of them likely cared who was winning, what it was about or how far it went. All they ever seemed to show concern for was their own amusement, always excited to see violence without having to pull out their wallets to pay for it.

Are you joking?

Where are the teachers?

This is complete bullshit.

This is high school, not a fucking fight club.

Does Onion even try to make this believable? Or is he just vomiting all over his keyboard and just accepting whatever nonsense that makes?

As the sounds of flesh collided fist to cheek & chest quickly followed the howls from the surrounding students. They would scream "Oooohhhh!" as if it were sincerely delightful to witness creatures like themselves suffer & fall apart before their eyes.

The use of ampersands is making me lose my goddamn mind.

Even if I had time to stop, I never really took pleasure in seeing strangers hurt each other. Most all fights seemed avoidable and were often initiated for a senseless reason.

Go choke on air. This protagonist annoys me more than any protagonist has. I’m not joking. Fuck this dickwad.

I know, you could say it's more complicated than that, I would like to think it were as well, but reality trumps the way I wish things would be. There's no sense in fighting it when doing so rarely helps anyone.

While this is true, this is worded in a way that’s so pretentious it’s painful and also in a way that paints this protagonist in such a white knight-y way that it makes me want to die.

As I approached my next class the image of Abbi's face illuminated the neon walls of my mind like a projector teasing a theatre screen with fleeting moments of depth & purpose.

That is complete and utter word salad. Stop immediately.

Ever since I met her, she had occupied a part of my consciousness; whenever I wasn't near her I missed her to an unrealistic extent. You could call my longing sad especially considering we had barely talked; she just had a strange effect on me, one no doubt similar to a willful addiction.

That’s called a crush, but the way that was just described is so creepy.

There are people in life which we pass by on a daily basis, barely aware of their existence, but on an exceptionally rare occasion you can find a person who fills an area inside your little world you didn't even realize needed filling.

While that’s technically not untrue, it feels like a lizard person is trying to tell me what having a crush on someone is like.

As I walked up the creaking stairs into my art class trailer I could see Abbi was sitting at her shared-desk, alone, same makeup, hairstyle & general appearance I had thought about repeatedly over the last couple days. She was drawing pictures on her blue-lined paper, distracting herself from the cold that filled the oddly glowing room.

This... This imagery is so fucking weird.

I smiled slightly trying not to be too obvious and sat down on my chilled metal chair positioned a few seats to the left in front of her. Glancing over, I could see she hadn't moved at all, I felt like she didn't even notice me come in.

You aren’t the center of her world, so yeah, she’s focused on something else. That’s just how it is, asshat.

I wanted to inspire some acknowledgment of my existence from Abbi so I opened my mouth to greet her when my fingers brushed up against freshly smeared gum under my desk. "Eeew!" I shouted out on impulse. She looked up at me with a blank expression.

I’ve accidentally touched gum on the bottom of my desk before, as I can imagine everyone has, but I’ve never shouted about it like a lunatic.

Bursting into the room came a group of boys. "Dude I think John's done bro!" one of the other boys laughed, saying "Won't see them for a week at least."

Nobody talks like this. Have you ever spoke to another human?

I looked back at Abbi to see she also didn't react to their outburst. Strangely knowing that her apathy was generalized and impersonal gave me comfort.

There needs to be a comma after ‘strangely,’ but whatever.

Her influence on how I felt was obviously dangerous but I didn't care as no matter how fond I was of the idea that I was not of the world, I knew my place and had no real interest in pretending otherwise.

Explain to me how in the hell that’s dangerous.

Jason, one of the boys energetically praising the fight they had just seen, sat in his seat next to Abbi. I smirked watching her shoulders shift away from him. Her body language sent a loud message that she had the same impression of Jason as I did. He was just another moron, placed on this Earth to live his life completely unexamined,

That word is not used properly in that sentence.

a pawn that had no awareness of its own role let alone that it was just another tiny component within a massive unstoppably twisted game.

Shut your pretentious mouth because that doesn’t make any goddamn fucking sense.

I know it sounds morbid and condescending but my attitude was just something that naturally developed the more I studied human behavior.

Bullshit.

I would be more optimistic but I find doing so would be like walking into a room with no windows and turning out the light. If you refuse to see the world around you for what it is you're just wasting your eyes.

Being optimistic means looking on the good side of things. You’ve heard the glass half empty or half full thing. it’s that. And as someone who jumps between optimism and pessimism, being optimistic isn’t like this at all.

Don’t try to be poetic or funny, Onion. Those are two things that you aren’t.

Art class was about to begin. My teacher, Mrs. Stanley, who looked like she should have retired a ridiculous thirty years ago, approached the front of the room talking about how art is sacred. She also discussed the random object she had us all draw the previous school day and ironically graded it by using her own narrow-minded definition of art.

That isn’t ironic.

I always wondered how teachers could even attempt objectively grading art. Is there any logic behind validating a form of self-expression using a cold black and white mathematical system?

It’s a class where you have to follow the curricula. Shut your damn mouth.

And this is coming from someone who hated her art teacher. But this art teacher was so utterly closed minded that she didn’t accept anyone else’s creative process. She basically told us that if we didn’t follow her process, we weren’t real artists.

"Today I'm going to place you with partners" Mrs. Stanley said as she pulled out sheets of paper outlining our activities to come. "To keep this simple, I'm going to partner you with the person you are currently assigned to share a desk with" she said. I sighed knowing I was bound to be paired up with Alex, a guy I had specifically asked to be seated away from ever since he peed in a jar literally right next to me under our desk, acting like he was so cool for publicly exposing himself while simultaneously urinating.

That... He expected to be treated like he was cool for this?

That’s fucking disgusting.

It happened weeks ago and I still can't figure out what kind of crazy it takes for you to, in the presence of people you barely know but have to see nearly on a daily basis, pee in a jar held in your hand just beneath your desk in the middle of a classroom.

At first when I read this, I thought that the wayit was worded made it sound like Alex forced James to hold the jar while he peed in it, but okay, whatever.

What then? You show it off like you will be praised and accepted as if it were an accomplishment? Alex, despite being borderline mental, was one of my least favorite people to study.

It is actually physically exhausting to read this shit. James is a pretentious asshole.

I couldn't help but feel there was some defect in his mind that invalidated the point of conducting a thorough analysis of him.

This just makes it seem like James has mind reading powers.

He was completely irrelevant when considering the realities of normal human behavior.

Behavior you don’t act according to, you lizard person sociopath.

As I was off on a tangent in my own mind I heard a familiar voice ring out, one that inspired the very same emotion you experience when a song you had forgotten you loved, randomly plays in the background of your daily life. "Can I be paired up with James?" her voice was just as I remembered.

Is this Abbi?

I have a friend who spells her name like this, so I really hate that there’s a character in this shitty book who shares a name with her.

Despite her having not spoken in class in some time, she hadn't changed a note. Abbi had interrupted the teacher just to partner with me, but I asked myself if was it really just to work with me or just to get away from Jason.

Um. Okay.

The teacher, looking irritated but understanding Abbi's discomfort with Jason responded "Alex and Jason, you'll be partners. James, switch seats with Jason" "Thank you!" Abbi said with a slight smile. With a cocky grin Jason stood up and in a comedic fashion smelled his armpit. "Wow, I didn't know I smelled that bad" Jason said as he walked over to sit by Alex.

That isn’t funny and Onion boy isn’t funny.

Approaching Abbi was no doubt a way scarier act in my mind than it was to everyone around me, I felt like my head was burning from the inside out.

That’s a little extreme.

Nevertheless I continued to remind myself that her public outcry to partner with me could have meant nothing. I sat down next to her and did all I could not to turn into a complete dork on her. She reached out and grabbed the project outline that was being passed out. Mrs. Stanley began to read the description of the assignment. "Today you will both be taking something meaningful, but expendable, from your own homes."

If something is meaningful it isn’t expendable. Stop.

Mrs. Stanley looked up and emphasized, "That you own!" then looked back down at her paper. "You will tear those items apart here in class. You will then take those items and, using the adhesives, staples and the strings available in class, find a way to create something new out of those possessions."

That’s actually kind of an interesting idea. But like. Maybe with a cup? I don’t wanna rip apart something I care about.

She looked up and said in a low voice sounding somewhat like Dracula "Two, will become one."

That is unnecessarily creepy. It reads like an innuendo.

Also, what in fresh hell does Dracula’s voice sound like?

Did she say it with a Transylvanian accent? I’m confused.

Jason raised his hand objecting, "All due respect Mrs. Stanley I'm not breaking something of mine for this class."

Jason has the right idea.

She replied putting her hands on her hips, "That's fine Jason. We'll supply you with a toilet paper rolls, we have plenty of extras around here." Jason suddenly looked disturbed and sarcastically spouted "Freaking great!"

Why???

That’s better than ripping apart a t-shirt.

Mrs. Stanley asked, "Are you sure? Your grade shouldn't suffer that much if you two just take Alex's piss jar and tape it to a toilet paper roll. You're already failing this class."

What in the literal fuck?!

You cannot say that to students. No, you can’t say that to anyone.

Jason couldn't believe what she had just said

Same.

and Alex maintained an awkward frozen facial expression with his mouth slightly open in his normal weirdo somewhat robotic fashion.

"Oh my god" Abbi whispered under her breath with a slight smirk. I grinned uncontrollably; just seeing her amused was amazing to me.

That wasn’t really funny, it was just shocking.

I could hear a scream in the back of my mind reminding me my dorkiness and borderline obsession was escaping through my face.

It's not that I couldn't help being in awe of Abbi and basically every little thing she did, I simply didn't want to change how I felt. In a way, she was like your favorite song or book, you could pretend not to like it and in time with the right mental coaching maybe you would sincerely dislike it, but life just felt so much better embracing your condition entirely, letting all your nerdy admiration flow freely.

This just reads like an obsession. I don’t have the energy to actually express how romantic feelings actually feel, but this is terrifying.

Mrs. Stanley continued, "If there's anyone else who has an issue, please take it up with my 1800 number which is?" She put her hand up to the air signaling the students to react but only a couple kids replied aloud with her catch phrase. "1-800-BOO-HOOO" they mumbled.

Sweet Jesus.

So this is what it feels like to lose my mind.

She continued, "Good, now for the rest of class please work with your partner on what you plan to bring and draw up a prototype sketch of what you feel your final piece of art will look like." Mrs. Stanley walked to the back of her room and sat down at her 1950's looking rust-infested desk.

Is this school just a giant health code violation? And what the hell do you mean by ‘1950′s desk?’ All I got when I googled that were pictures of wooden desks.

I would always laugh internally when I looked at the old thing. Maybe it was my way of coping with the fact I attended one of the most run down schools in the state.

I have nothing that isn’t full of curse words and fact checking to say here.

"What are you going to bring James?" Abbi asked.

This sentence is put so Abbi looks like she’s asking if James is going to bring himself without the comma after the word ‘bring.’ Did Onion really not edit his book at all? These are simple and fixable grammatical mistakes.

It was amazing hearing my name pass her lips but I had no time to think, if I didn't respond right away she would think I was totally awkward. "I... have no idea..." I responded. Smiling she said, "I'm going to bring my hamster cage", I asked, "Did he die or something?" she laughed, "No, I never got one, the cage was just a gift from my dad."

But you’re supposed to cut it up.

Hamster cages are made of metal.

Does Abbi just have superhuman strength? Is she going to bring a pair of bolt cutters?

"Your dad didn't get you a hamster... for the cage?" I asked.

My question exactly.

Sometimes you just...

You just gotta give your daughter a hamster cage but no hamster.

She paused and started to lose her smile.

Oh fabulous, she’s one of those characters.

At the first sign of her smile fading I felt a crushing pressure in my chest. "Hopefully you can find something that will work with that," she said. I couldn't help but feel like a total jerk despite not even knowing what I did wrong.

That interaction was so... Weird? Robotic? i don’t know. Something felt wrong about it.

I had the overwhelming urge to fix how she felt so I took a gamble, "Well, I could always bring that weird vibrating thing my mom hides in her drawers all wrapped up in a cloth" I said.

What is wrong with you?

I cannot fathom what made Onion think this joke was funny.

She busted out laughing hysterically as a huge grinned filled my face. I was so happy I could get her to smile again. "Eeew! James!" she continued to laugh as the extent of my grin began to stress my cheeks. I couldn't remember a time when I was this obvious about how I felt.

This... Something is wrong with just... all the dialogue.

And with the formatting. You make a new paragraph when someone starts talking. A 34 year old man should know this. He writes like me when I first started writing, and while this probably means he just started writing, I was 11 years old when I wrote like this.

He is a 34 year old adult. There is no excuse for how bad this formatting and how generally terribly written these interactions are.

Abbi's laughing trailed off and she paused. Turning to me she said, "You... you didn't actu- ally... your moms?"

*Pained groaning.*

I responded, "No, I wouldn't know about that, but I'm glad it made you laugh." She responded, returning to a soft laugh "You're more goofy than I thought James." I sat next to her looking at my fingers interlaced in front of me; my wide smile relaxed but still filled my cheeks with warmth.

This entire chapter, everything here, is so awkwardly written.

As class came to a close Abbi patted me on my arm. I turned and she handed me a note. Instinctively I put it in my pocket and said "See ya tomorrow", she just smiled and walked away.

????

On my way to my next class, I opened the note. I didn't understand why, but it read "NISEONE."

Not knowing what to make of it and with little time, I stuffed it back in my pocket to look over later.

Yeah, that’s cryptic as hell.

Not feeling like skating home,

Oh, we’re really getting into edgy 2000′s shit now.

I got on the bus to see all the normal rejects and misfits waiting. Davis, a short and scrawny kid who had been my best friend since middle school despite being one grade behind me excitedly waved me over.

Oh, good, more terrible characters.

"James! Nice to seeeee you!"

Oh, this bitch needs to die.

he said in seemingly the dorkiest way possible. I smiled as he stood up giving me the window seat, knowing very well by then that I preferred it.

Um. Okay.

As I sat down I began looking out the window, analyzing the little humans running left and right to get on their busses.

Buses*

And I am going to eventually kick your ass for this pretentious bullshit.

Something reached out and caught the corner of my eye. I immediately shifted my head to see what it was and quickly realized it was Abbi standing in the parking lot by some beat-up sedan.

"What'cha looking at James?" Davis asked. Without hesitation I began to respond, "Oh, it's Abbi, she's in my art..." my heart sank as I witnessed a boy I barely knew, named Seth, walk up and kiss Abbi on the lips.

Oh, boo fucking hoo. Get over the fact that she has a life outside of your crush on her.

"James?" Davis said, but by that point his voice was a faint echo in the darkness my mind instantaneously lost itself in. I felt like after a life of numbness I was finally about to truly feel warmth for the first time only to have it all taken away in an instant, leaving me hopeless in the shadows, alone once again.

Cry me a goddamn river.

You angsty pretentious idiot.

Don’t give me angsty word salad about how sad this makes you, I don’t actually care at all.

I looked down at my knees feeling as if I lost all muscle control in my neck.

That isn’t a thing that happens ever when someone is upset.

"Are... you ok?" Davis asked. I responded with hesitation "...I'm... just stupid."

You spoke to her once, you fucking dumbass.

"No you're not. You're one of the coolest guys I know!" Davis replied. I continued my silence as he offered words of encouragement. "Okie dokie, well, you're awesome and should be super happy so if you want to talk, I'm your buddy so... so I'm here to talk."

That’s uh, nice of him.

But the way he’s talking sounds like... almost mechanical? All he’s done since he was introduced has been compliment James.

I was too focused on the con- flict raging in my mind to hear anyone at that point. I couldn't think about anything but Seth kissing Abbi the entire trip home.

Oh, get the fuck over it.

That night my mom was literally just serving lentil beans she prepared on her crock-pot for the billionth time, a fair exaggeration but still, it was excessive to say the least. My sister was behaving as she usually did at the dinner table, talking about how stupid she thought school was and how she couldn't wait for college. "How was work mom?"

I mean, I’m also tired of high school. I’m really done with judge-y teenagers.

I asked trying to keep my mind off the haunting images looping in my mind.

YOU HAVE HAD ONE FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH HER. CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, YOU BITCH.

Any normal person would express disappointment over the fact that a person they like has a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner in general, not go into a damn depression about it.

"Well, no one at work respects me or listens to me and I generally can't stand it, but you know, we still have food on the table" she said in a stern tone.

That

That is weirdly passive aggressive and mechanical.

My sister barked as food flew out of her mouth, "Well at least it's not high school. I'm learning how to be a successful person from a bunch of low-income losers."

Oh, I guess bitching runs in the family.

My mom replied "Whatever your teachers are, they have full-time jobs, which is more than a lot of people can say." My mom gave my sister Lisa a disap- pointed look. Lisa was well known for showing little respect for hard-working people. To her it didn't matter how much you gave back to society, it only mattered how much money you made.

That’s a very black and white way to look at things.

After the rerun of lentil soup I washed the dishes per my mom's orders and headed to the shower. I sat on the floor of the tub thinking about Abbi, barely feeling the water as it hit my chest.

Sat on the floor... while water hits your chest? Are you like sitting with your back arched so the water can hit your chest?

This imagery is so odd.

I was so consumed with what I had seen that I had completely forgotten the note until that moment. I quickly reached over to my pants resting on the toilette.

Why the fuck did you spell toilet like that?

That’s literally the word for ‘toilet’ but in French. It isn’t a spelling used in English. It just makes you sound even more pretentious.

Also, he reached over to the toilet to grab the note from his pants while he’s in the shower?

It’s gonna get wet, you idiot.

I had hoped I read it wrong the first time and that it would make sense with a second look only to see it read exactly what I gathered in my initial passing glance. "NISEONE"

I fucking hate you, Onion.

This literally looks like you scrambled your screen name up.

Die.

In a fire.

I mumbled to myself. I joked with the idea in my head that she handed me the wrong note but still assumed it wasn't a failed attempt to say "Nice one," which could be taken as a compliment if you were desperate enough.

That joke, while just a little funnier, is still fucking lame.

Seconds into looking at the note my eyes widened, having figured out what it meant, I jumped up slipping to my feet and screamed "YEAH!!!" I had cracked it, only to immediately after feel completely stupid for not having figured it out sooner.

I’m just done functioning.

My mom screamed through the door from her bedroom "WHAT?" I responded "Sorry! Nothing!" I hurried to finish showering.

I’d just assume he got really into jerking off.

I’ll see myself out.

Staring at my phone wearing only a towel, I smiled as I typed in "NISEONE" or "647-3663" into the number keys.

That is the most cryptic and strange way to give someone your phone number.

I assumed we shared the same area code otherwise she likely would have given me a longer sequence of letters and I was right. After two rings I got an answer.
"What do you want?" a disgruntled man's voice asked.

This... This girl gave this guy a home phone number?

I guess that’s fine since this is probably set in the early 2000′s, but it’s still odd.

Like a bad engine struggling to start in a monster movie I clumsily belted out a response "I... uh... I was looking for..." An unenthusiastic female voice in the background said, "Give me the phone." "Whatever" he said dropping phone in front of her.

James can apparently see through the phone, or he wouldn’t know that probably Abbi’s dad did this.

"Hello?" I could recognize the voice now it was Abbi.

Trying to hide my excitement by maintaining a normal tone I said, "This is James." Abbi excitedly screamed

Like how girls screamed in Disney Channel shows?

That’s ridiculous.

and responded "Oh my god you figured it out!" Hearing her optimistic tone I laughed saying, "So... why..." She interrupted. "I was hoping to find out if you figured out what you're bringing to art class."

Why the hell didn’t you just fucking ask? Or give him your regular phone number? This is just unnecessarily complicated.

I said "Oh!" and looked quickly around my room. I couldn't see anything immediately so I just said, "I'll... surprise you!" She then replied "Oh come on, tell me." My eyes locked on to a plausible item for the project. "How about my... bear... I'll bring my bear!"

You’re okay with destroying a teddy bear? Okay, I guess.

I said. She replied "Oh, ok, oh! I have an idea. Instead of the cage, I'll bring in a stuffed animal of mine and we'll make like, a zombie bear."

Sounds fine.

I don’t care.

You guys are fucking boring.

I laughed "Awesome" I said. "Ok, I'll see you tomorrow ok?" she replied happily. I answered "Ok, byeee."

I would appreciate it if you would fuck off.

I can’t believe this shit is on GoodReads.

Just before she hung up I could still hear her laughing, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment and a lasting smile as if it were painted across my face.

That’s the end of chapter one?

Oh god, okay.

That was.

Terrible.

The characters are bland and flavorless and I cannot get attached to any of them. I can already tell I’m going to completely despise this.

I’ll see you next time. I need to go think about my life.

~Kat

[creideamhgradochas]

Thanks to the lovely @bitsandbobsandstuff for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely Kris, go give her a follow and then show her some love!

These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?

Looking back, my first attempt at fanfic was probably when I was 11-years-old and I couldn’t wait for the next ‘Babysitters Club’ book to come out, so I wrote my own story. I think it featured Stacey McGill and horses. I really fucking wish I could find it… But honestly, I didn’t really understand the world of fanfiction until I joined Tumblr. So outside of those little forays when I was younger, I’d say it was last year when I realised it was a thing I could do and people might be interested, so let’s say my 30s.

2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

When it comes to fanfic, I prefer Reader inserts. They feel more inclusive and frankly, even as a writer it can be easier to imagine myself in the shoes of the reader character (so I can understand their thoughts and feelings and motivations), if I don’t have a specific name attached to them.

5) When is your preferred time to write?

Either first thing in the morning (coffee and morning air are excellent inspiration) or Saturday afternoons.

6) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Constant reading. I’m that nerd at the bus stop or waiting at the movie theatre or walking down the street with my nose in a book. I also try to draw on real life experiences/ situations when I can, it gives stories more texture.

7) In your Safe With Me fic, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

I’m going to be cheeky and say it’s a tie – the dance scene in Chapter 8 and the trigger scene in Chapter 15. The realisations they both had within the few minutes of their dance together felt like such a great payoff for everything up until that point, and I loved imagining Bucky in that black suit (and I just love that song ‘Run to you’). The trigger scene was so much fun just to  resurface and/ or create all Bucky’s memories, especially the ones with the Soldier…they were like mini-stories of their own.

8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Nope. Everyone has a different vision and every story is unique for a reason.

9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why?

Clearly, I’m such a sucker for Bucky Barnes. 😊 His character has been through so many things over his lifetime, you can take him in a hundred directions and they can still feel true to source material (both MCU and comics). He can be a battle-weary soldier or a sassy little shit, and it all links back to some iteration of his personality at some point in his life – whether pre-WW2, Winter Soldier days, or now. I’d like to branch out and try others (or maybe other fandoms) at some point, but I’m content with him for now.

11) How did you come up with the title for the Safe With Me?

I knew I wanted the title to be a line of dialogue, because I like the symmetry of finding titles inserted in a story, and I knew I wanted it to be something ‘safety’ related, since that was the theme of the story. In Chapter 3, Bucky gives the reader a little speech at the end, telling her he’ll do anything he needs to protect her, and after re-working that a little, I came up with the ‘you’re safe with me’ line, and that became the title!

12) How did you come up with the idea for Safe With Me?

I wanted to try a series for a long time, but was always  so intimidated by the idea - I’m blown away by the writers on here who do so many series, the time it takes is nuts. For SWM, there were certain themes I personally wanted to find in a story - what it means to be safe, how sometimes evil people can live right next to you, the importance of mental health...all those concepts were used as foundations to the story and the colour was created around them. Sometimes things went in the direction I wanted, sometimes they took unexpected left turns as I was writing - I think you really have to be okay being led by your gut sometimes. Things like lemon drug or Tony’s tech or changing the purpose of the trigger words were random ideas that fell into place. My brain is a weird place to be sometimes.

14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I’ve thought about doing something else with ‘Bless me father’ (still the strangest, weirdest, dirtiest story I’ve written) maybe a prequel or sequel, but still mulling over ideas.

16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

There are so many on Tumblr I love, but three in particular I would point out.

@a-splash-of-stucky: Elsa is a literal poet. The way she writes, the images she conjures and phrases she uses, are beyond gorgeous.

@justreadingfics: Ally can set up a scene like you wouldn’t believe. I am also in continual awe of someone who can write so beautifully when it’s not their first language.

@4luvofall: Cristina nails the dialogue every single time. Her characters are always a little sassy and a little funny, and I want to go drinking with them (and her). Outside of Tumblr, my favourite book is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and I would be happy to read Harry Potter every day for the rest of my life.

17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

No stories, although sometimes I’ll read old dialogue or descriptions and roll my eyes a little! I think it’s important to read your old stuff and recognise how far you’ve come or how your style has changed.

18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

I have a writing playlist that is mostly Sigur Ros and Sleeping at Last, with a heavy dose of movie soundtracks like Lord of the Rings. But sometimes, I put headphones in and just listen to silence.

19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

I’ve gotten a little emotional at points, but never full on cried. I have sobbed like a baby while reading though, good lord.

20) Which part of your Safe With Me fic was the hardest to write?

I think the club scene in Chapter 12 was the hardest. The idea was to use the scenery and secondary characters and music to build the tension through the course of the night, until everything collapsed. Finding the right flow and making sure it didn’t feel too rushed was really hard, it took me a long time to work through.

21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I tend to make an outline. For one-shots, it’s never long – just listing out the key points and scenes I want to hit. For SWM it was long – the outline was more than 15,000 words. Admittedly, I’m somewhat Type A, so I need structure to function. 😊

23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

Probably my first Stucky story, ‘The language of a kiss’. I was hesitant to post it – it wasn’t long after I read ‘Not easily conquered’ which was one of the most mind-blowing literary experiences of my life. I love the story and have gotten lovely comments on it, but I think AO3 tends to be a better place for Stucky stories, Tumblr leans more toward Reader insert.

25) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Yes! The reader for ‘Safe with me’ was based heavily on yours truly! Most of her dialogue came very easy because it’s how I speak in real life (full of F-bombs and insults that rarely make sense). Some of Bucky’s dialogue and sass was based on my husband, the way those two bickered in the story was pretty close to real life.

26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Some of the compliments I’ve received for ‘Safe with me’ have been genuinely unbelievable. Several people have said the story inspired them to write again, which I’m so excited to hear. The biggest compliment though, was probably someone telling me the story helped ease them through a depressive episode in their life. That hit particularly close to home and I can’t express how happy I was to hear that.

29) Do people know you write fan-fiction?

My husband and a few close friends. The first time I told my best friend, who is not remotely into fandom, I gave her ‘Safe with me’ at chapter 12 and she read the entire thing overnight and by 8a the next morning I was getting texts saying “are you awake and if so are you writing because you can’t do this to me.” Hearing someone with no interest in Marvel say that was pretty fun.

30) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written?

Definitely Riz in ‘Safe with me’. I picture him hanging out in his little kiosk in downtown Manhattan, playing Candy Crush and watching the world go by. He has to have some great stories.

31) What spurs you on during the writing process?

Deadlines! I work so much better under pressure. If I ever had to write a thesis, I would wait until two days before it’s due.

33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

I think it was the ‘Worth Fighting For’ series by @serzhantkris. The plot was based on Mulan, and followed the reader who took her brother’s place in the army during WW2 - she went though basic and got deployed and captured as part of the 107th. She was a feisty and amazing character, and I’m always a sucker for 1940s Bucky. The story is broken out across the three Captain America movies and it is seriously breathtaking – sweet, cheeky, full of action, and completely heartbreaking.

34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I think I’m going with angst. I like being able to dig into something and maybe cause a little pain in the process. 😉

[mrlnsfrt]

Living Out The Truth

We have arrived at our last post of our Watching, Waiting, Ready mini-series. In this post, we will study how we can live out the truth God has revealed to us in the Bible.

Overview

The parable of the sheep and the goats essentially “tells me that the heart of Christianity is relationship with Jesus himself, which shows itself in loving, sacrificial care for others, in particular the poor and needy.” (Green, M. (2001). The message of Matthew: the kingdom of heaven (p. 263). Leicester, England; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.)

This parable concludes a series of parables that Jesus told to help us understand how to live in light of His second coming. To better understand why Jesus shared these parables you need to read Matthew 24.

Now as He sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to Him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will these things be? And what will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end of the age?” - Matthew 24:3

Our series began with a study of Matthew 24:36-51 in a post entitled Watching, Waiting, Ready. There we looked at two parables and learned that Jesus is coming at a time we do not expect, and therefore we must be always ready. There is a special blessing for the servant who is found doing what the master asked when the master returns.

The next post on this series covered the parable of the 10 virgins, found in Matthew 25:1-13. This post was entitled Character is not Transferable. In this post, we learned how we must be ready for unexpected delays/hardships and that our character, our faith, developed over our lifetime of walking with Jesus cannot be simply given to someone else to help their lack of faith. Salvation is a personal reality.

My third post on this series was a study of Matthew 25:14-30 and the parable of the talents. In my post Use it or Lose it, I described how Jesus gives us gifts through the Holy Spirit and how we are called to use them and as we do He multiplies our gifts.

The last parable in this series of parables shared by Jesus about His second coming is the parable of the sheep and the goats. It is not really a parable, it is more of a comparison, a description, of a judgment scene. In the context of all the parables that came before it, its meaning becomes obvious; our theological understanding must be lived out in a practical way, especially demonstrated in the care for the needy, and its importance is highlighted by the soon coming of Jesus.

When Jesus comes

“When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then He will sit on the throne of His glory. All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats. And He will set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left. - Matthew 25:31-33 NKJV

This scene makes many uncomfortable so it tends to not be discussed as often as the previous parables. But this image of judgment is not unique to this passage.

For the Son of Man will come in the glory of His Father with His angels, and then He will reward each according to his works. - Matthew 16:27 NKJV

Jesus also mentions His coming in glory and surrounded by angels in other instances such as Mark 8:38 and Luke 9:26.

In essence, when Jesus comes in power and glory all of humanity will be divided into two groups. As I studied this passage I notice that some wonder about when exactly this will happen. Will it take place before or after the millennium? Will this crowd be made up of Jews, gentiles, Christians? Will it be after Jesus comes and the resurrection takes place? Will the church already have been taken up by rapture?

The best answer I have to these questions is that this is not meant to be a detailed description of the events that take place at the second coming. This is rather a broad description, the big picture in a sense, of the final judgment that will take place. For a clearer timeline, we would need to look at the book of Revelation. And even though the Bible contains more details regarding the millennium, resurrection, and rapture, that is not the focus of this passage and I will leave these topics for another post.

The main idea that Jesus clearly describes is that all of humanity will be divided into two groups. All denominations, all religions, everyone from all over the world will have to face Jesus in the day of judgment, and He will separate them into two groups.

The sheep on the right

Then the King will say to those on His right hand, ‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’ - Matthew 25:34-36 NKJV

We may be okay with Jesus separating all of humanity into two groups, but I know that the reasoning Jesus provides here will make many uncomfortable. Maybe it is because Jesus had never read the writings of Paul. What do we do with verses like Ephesians 2:8-9?

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. - Ephesians 2:8-9 NKJV

Could Paul be preaching a different gospel than the one Jesus taught? But what about things that Jesus famously said like the words recorded in John 3:16?

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. - John 3:16 NKJV

Is Jesus contradicting Himself? Or did John and Paul conspire to change the gospel?

But what about passages like Romans 2:5-11?

But in accordance with your hardness and your impenitent heart you are treasuring up for yourself wrath in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God, who “will render to each one according to his deeds”: eternal life to those who by patient continuance in doing good seek for glory, honor, and immortality; but to those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness—indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, on every soul of man who does evil, of the Jew first and also of the Greek; but glory, honor, and peace to everyone who works what is good, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For there is no partiality with God. - Romans 2:5-11 NKJV

Paul wrote both the letter to the Ephesians and the letter to the Romans. Is he contradicting Himself? Likewise, the same John who wrote the gospel according to John (including John 3:16) also wrote the book of Revelation which says,

And behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give to every one according to his work. - Revelation 22:12 NKJV

So which one is it? By grace through faith or by works?

I believe this becomes clearer as we continue to read Matthew 25.

The Righteous Answer Jesus

“Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’ - Matthew 25:37-40 NKJV

The righteous are surprised!? What does this mean? I believe this surprise is the key to understanding what Jesus is teaching. If the righteous had saved themselves by or through their good works they would very much be aware of it. They would be congratulating themselves on achieving their goal. But they are surprised. Could it be that they were saved by grace through faith and therefore cannot boast of any works? But if they were saved by grace why did Jesus list so many of their good works?

Let us keep reading and see if we can get a clearer understanding of what Jesus meant by His words.

Jesus addresses those on His left

“Then He will also say to those on the left hand, ‘Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry and you gave Me no food; I was thirsty and you gave Me no drink; I was a stranger and you did not take Me in, naked and you did not clothe Me, sick and in prison and you did not visit Me.’ - Matthew 25:41-43 NKJV

Jesus now uses the same standard or “grading rubric.” The ones on His left are rejected for “failing” in the same areas where the ones on the right “succeeded.” Jesus essentially holds everyone accountable. We are all free to live as we please, but in the end, I will have to give an account to the One who gave me my life, regarding how I chose to live my life.

Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter:

Fear God and keep His commandments, For this is man’s all. 14 For God will bring every work into judgment, Including every secret thing, Whether good or evil. - Ecclesiastes 12:13-14 NKJV

The Lost Answer Jesus

“Then they also will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to You?’ Then He will answer them, saying, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’ And these will go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” - Matthew 25:44-46 NKJV

One detail that I noticed for the first time is that those on Jesus’ left also call Him “Lord.” Some commentators take this to mean that these are people who thought they were saved, they knew Jesus was Lord, but they lived self-absorbed lives and did not care about the needs of others. The ones on the left are depicted as unconscious of their guilt. If they had known that it was Jesus who needed help, they would have helped. In other words, if they had known that helping those in need would somehow be advantageous they would have done it, but only out of selfish interest.

This group reminds me of the ones Jesus mentions in Matthew 7.

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’  And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’ - Matthew 7:21-23 NKJV

I believe this is a group of people who had an intellectual knowledge of God but lacked a personal relationship. They believed it was enough to simply say the name of Jesus, or know that He was God, but they missed the calling He had for them. It is not enough to say “Lord, Lord” they also should have stopped practicing lawlessness.

Therefore as the tares are gathered and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of this age. The Son of Man will send out His angels, and they will gather out of His kingdom all things that offend, and those who practice lawlessness, and will cast them into the furnace of fire. There will be wailing and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. He who has ears to hear, let him hear! - Matthew 13:40-43 NKJV

No Room for Hypocrites

My understanding of this passage about the sheep and the goats is that there will be no hypocrites in the kingdom of heaven. Salvation is not about just saying the right things, it is about an authentic and personal relationship with Jesus.

We cannot claim to follow Jesus and yet live lives detached from the suffering of those all around us.

Christ's love embraces the fallen, the erring, and the sinful. We must understand this, and know that every deed of kindness done to uplift a fallen soul, every act of mercy is accepted by Jesus as if it had been done to Him.

Millions upon millions of human souls are ready to perish, bound in chains of ignorance and sin. They have never so much as heard of Christ’s love for them. Were our condition and theirs to be reversed, what would we desire them to do for us?

Many of us feel superior to those who have less than us. Too often we fail to place ourselves in the poor person’s place. Many Christians, especially those better off financially, do not understand the temptations and struggles of the poor, and mercy dies out of their hearts. In expensive homes and grand churches, the rich shut themselves away from the poor; the means that God has given to bless the needy is spent in pampering pride and selfishness. (The Desire of Ages page 639)

Before we rush to point fingers at those who are wealthier than we are we must realize that many of us here in the US are considered wealthy by the majority of this earth’s population. I do not mean to point fingers, I mean for all of us to feel that we are called to do something. All of us. Also, it is very possible that some of you who are reading this already do help those in need, I do not mean to overburden you to the point of burnout. But if you are reading this and you are not doing anything, or you have not done anything to help the needy in the last week or month, you really need to consider the health of your spiritual life.

A Closer Connection With Jesus

I see ministering to those in need as a practical way to get closer to Jesus, to understand His heart. When we participate in the work He did while here on earth we better understand Jesus. Here’s a quote that really made me think,

Many feel that it would be a great privilege to visit the scenes of Christ’s life on earth, to walk where He trod, to look upon the lake beside which He loved to teach, and the hills and valleys on which His eyes so often rested. But we need not go to Nazareth, to Capernaum, or to Bethany, in order to walk in the steps of Jesus. We shall find His footprints beside the sickbed, in the hovels of poverty, in the crowded alleys of the great city, and in every place where there are human hearts in need of consolation. In doing as Jesus did when on earth, we shall walk in His steps. - The Desire of Ages p640

When we neglect this work, we also fail to grow in our faith as much as we could by putting into practice what Jesus calls us to do. I strongly believe that failure to care for those in need hinder our personal spiritual growth.

Pure and Undefiled Religion

Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world. - James 1:27 NKJV

I have met many Christians who emphasize the importance of keeping oneself unspotted from the world, but they are not always as eager to visit the orphans and widows in their trouble. However, I have also met many Christians who believe that their charitable donations and actions mean they can disregard God’s laws. Above I referenced Matthew 7:21-23, 13:40-43, which remind us that lawlessness is frowned upon by God.

Call to Action

All the parables Jesus told about the second coming, from Matthew 24:36-25:30, highlight that we have a mission, a responsibility, that we must be engaged in. Since we do not know when Jesus will come again we must always be prepared, even prepared for unexpected challenges. We are to live a life of ministry like Jesus lived. The study of prophecy should impress on our hearts the need to help those around us as God enables us to do it.

In essence, when the disciples asked Jesus about the end of the world Jesus finished concluded His answer with several stories about fulfilling the two great commandments in a very practical way.

“Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?”

Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’  On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” - Matthew 22:36-40 NKJV

Salvation is a heart matter, but your actions reveal the condition and the content of your heart. It is not enough to study the Bible, to pray, and avoid sin and evil. Jesus also calls us to be involved in ministry, to care for those around us. So I challenged you to pray and ask God to reveal to you what you can do for Him. Ask Him to reveal to you who is hurting and what you can do to help. Salvation is a heart matter, it should impact every area of your life. Your love for Jesus will manifest itself in your life.

[olwog]

So Peeps, today we learn that Newcastle has a Castle and the city’s name is derived from an order issued by William the Conquerer, to build a “New Castle on the Tyne”. We also learn that Mark Knopfler spent some time on the Dog Leap Stairs as we, like him, made our way ‘Down to the Waterline’.

Bill Humphrey is an old school friend who spent a lifetime in education and his task today is to teach a small but select group about the history of this wonderful building. He’ll also be touching on the escapades of marauding bandits from both north of the border and from the south and then guide us to the top of the tower for a birds eye view of the Tyne bridges and the rest of the city.

We’re gathered at Northallerton Station where the the cheap day return tickets to Newcastle are being distributed for the journey with dire warnings that they must be matched with our Old Farts Passes (OFP’s) that trigger the 30% discount. The train is running a few minutes late but there is no concern and the banter is good as Pete exposes us to his new toy It’s a Snoring App that runs on his phone. It records when you snore, how loud it is and even makes a recording of it for you to play back in the comfort of your home or indeed on a railway platform on the way to Newcastle. Dave has named me the “Snore Master General” following a walk that we did a few weeks ago where we shared a bunk house type room with numerous others and it has to be said that none of them was impressed with the duration or volume. I’m a little perplexed as to why anyone would want to stay awake to listen to me snoring, but that they did and one in particular took the good Lord’s advice, “Pick up thy bed and walk”, He said, so he took his mattress and bedding, walked into the albergue’s kitchen and slept in there.

The journey is only 40 minutes and quite scenic to boot.  Before we know it we’re crossing the Tyne and into Central Station where Bill is waiting complete with pre-purchased tickets for the Castle.

Click on any image and you can browse at full size…

  The station is comfortably busy but there are no issues leaving and suddenly we’re on Neville Street enjoying the sun.

Bill has an extra treat planned and takes us into the grandly named Literary and Philosophical Society of Newcastle. It was founded in 1793 as a ‘conversation club’ and houses over 150,000 books. It opened in 1825 and is now Grade II* Listed. Various groundbreaking demonstrations of new technology took place here, such as George Stephenson’s miners’ safety lamp in 1815 and the lecture theatre was the first public room to be lit by electric light, during a lecture by Sir Joseph Swan in 1880.

  It’s a priceless building as antique as some of its books and as we enter the main hall we see only half of its capacity. The room is about sixty feet high with books stacked on wooden shelves right up to the ceiling. About half way up there is a walkway that hugs the wall all the way around both rooms and enables access to the books that are on the upper part of the walls. It’s ordered but chaotic and I love it. At the end of the main hall and off to the left is the other room, it’s slightly smaller but only just. At the end nearest me there’s a spiral staircase!

    Now, I do like a spiral staircase and venture up it expecting to be stopped but that doesn’t happen so, within a few seconds, I’m on the walkway above the books and free standing shelves. Everything is now below me on the ground level and I’m able to access both rooms without returning to the parquet floor.  I walk around the skyway then down another flight of steps that are all but hidden in the corner of the main hall then head across to the admin desk.

Laura and Karen are on duty and I stop to voice my appreciation. They’re clearly proud of ‘their’ society and readily tell me about it adding that my friends and I would always be welcome to call in to have a coffee and a read without any cost. It’s excellent and if I lived in Newcastle I know I’d be there regularly. It also smells good!

As we leave we drop a small donation into a box and by the looks of it many others have done the same, it’s voluntary so anyone who would like to read or partake of coffee and some warmth but is financially short would not be barred from this wonderful place.

Outside in the sun again and walking towards the object of the trip. It’s only five minutes from here and both towers are visible, one on our side of the track and the other opposite. Bill is telling us about Robert Stephenson and his actions that nearly resulted in an irony that would have  destroyed the castle by ‘progress’ after it had survived hundreds of years of possible destruction by marauding Scotts, local and royal bandits and even a civil war.

    Stephenson had one objective and that was to see London and Edinburgh linked by rail in as straight a line as possible and the castle was in the way. The solution was simple, demolish the bit in the middle and lay the tracks through it, and that’s exactly what he did. We’re fortunate in as much as there was a significant objection to this destruction and as a consequence we still have the two towers and evidence of the walls and foundations.

Bill gives us a general introduction to the castle in the form of little stories that include the fact that the earliest evidence of fortification of this place was over 1800 years ago when the Romans were shivering their laurels off guarding Hadrian’s Wall.

By 800 it was the site of a Saxon Church and this became more significant when the Normans invaded the South Coast in 1066, By 1088 they’d made an appearance on the Tyne and built their own fort deliberately planting it on the Saxon Church graveyard presumably to make a statement as to who was in charge. This was a wooden structure and it would be another 100 years before it was rebuilt in stone on the orders of Henry II.

Bill quotes a wonderful order by William the Conquerer who appreciated the strategic importance of having a presence in the North East (Northumberland as it was then i.e. anything north of the Humber) telling his son he wanted a “New Castle on the Tyne”.

We make our way to the first tower. It has the sinister but descriptive name of ‘The Black Tower’ and Bill explains its history and construction. I’m a little disappointed when it turns out that the likelihood for its name is that it is named after a merchant called Patric Black; ah, well, I did have visions of the black death or something equally unpleasant but you win some, you lose some.  It turns out that it’s the newest part of the castle built between 1247 and 1250 and is the entrance to a curved barbican where intrepid invaders could be held back by a drawbridge, two huge wooden doors six inches thick with a space in between where bowmen could aim their deadly arrows through murder holes at their helpless victims. Bill also describes the other options for the defending troops; things like superheated sand dropped on the victims from above or a couple of buckets of boiling oil to help it stick; Oooh, they had some fun in those days!

    If they survived this element then the following narrow corridor sweeping around to the right had castellated walkways above where the bowmen could line up for more sitting duck target practice. There is no evidence that anyone actually got this far but the fact that the facility was here shows how robust the defensive thinking had been at the planning stage.

We’re shown upstairs to a small exhibition of the history of the tower together with details of important people who’d been either around at the various times or had been influential with the tower. Well worth calling in.

Back on the boardwalk and we’re looking at some of the original walls that have their foundations exposed so we can see the stones that our forebears had handled and planted below ground nearly a thousand years ago, it’s fascinating.

There’s a hole in the ground and we’re informed it’s William Herron’s Pit. He was made the Sherif of Northumberland and was seriously corrupt. He built the pit where he could throw in the local traders with trumped up charges and took money off them to let them out (or indeed, not to throw them in); however, justice was inequitable anyway and a good example is the following: In 1301 Henry Tod and Hugh de Alnemuth were charged with the murder of William Hulhope, a crime punishable by death; however, they were pardoned when it was discovered that their victim was a Scot!

We’re directed under the viaduct and Bill continues to talk, he’s showing us the markers that Indicate the extent of the walls then we’re out of the arch and standing next to the Keep. As we walk he’s telling us about the status of the castle grounds after Newcastle was made a county in it own right. The Castle remained the property of the County of Northumberland so did not come under any new city rules which meant that there was plenty of dubious practice within its grounds and all to the frustration of the local administration. Nobody paid rates or taxes and there was an abundance of ladies of the night together with a more than adequate supply of ale houses. It was said that the limited number of streets would flow with blood and urine – a bit like the Big Market a Friday night.

    In 1847 the Keep was in serious danger from the development of the railways but the Society of Antiquaries of Newcastle upon Tyne successfully campaigned against the proposals. They succeeded and the tower not only survived but was also developed. In return they were able to negotiate a nominal rental for their meetings right up until 2009.

The building is fascinating and certainly good for the health as we travers the various floors, anti-rooms, main rooms and medieval lavatories. The tour is literally topped off with a visit to the top of the building where access is astonishing and the views of railway, river bridges, famous buildings and the cathedral are wonderful, we spend upwards of half an hour up here.

You can see the ‘masons mark’ on some of these stones, it signifies that it is his work and that he’s got to this point and needs to be paid. It’s incredible to imagine we’re looking at his work after so many hundreds of years; just fascinating.

  We’re still talking excitedly about the visit as we walk towards the Cathedral and pass a street sign, “Amen Corner”, not surprisingly it has its roots in religious practice and is, in fact, where processions of clergy from St Nicholas’ Cathedral would end their prayers.

    As we look at the sign The Cathedral is behind us and Bill asks if we’d like to go in? Well, do dicky birds fly and fish swim?

It looks quite compact from the outside but that impression is dispelled instantly on entry. It’s beautiful inside with impressive stone pillars reaching up to very high ceilings. There are exquisitely colourful stained glass windows with the added advantage that the sun is shining through them today and it’s casting colourful sunbeams in the fine dust that’s suspended in the still atmosphere.

    I light a candle for my lovely wife Linda then sit and stare; first at the candle and then at the sunbeams. I contemplate our life and today, I feel cocooned in love and it’s beautiful.

  Another ten minutes and we’re off this time to the oldest (or one of the oldest) pubs in Newcastle. iI’s the Old George and lurks in a back street that even today could welcome a coach and four with ease. (The pies are good!)

    As we leave the pub, Bill invites us to the quayside and we walk down Dog Leap Stairs.  In 1772 Baron Eldon, later Lord Chancellor of England, eloped with Bessie Surtees making their escape, according to folklore, on horseback up these steps. There is also a mention of Dog Leap Stairs in the hauntingly nostalgic Dire Straits song “Down to the Waterline”.

Sweet surrender on the quayside You remember we used to run and hide In the shadow of the cargoes I take you one time And we’re counting all the numbers down to the waterline

Near misses on the Dog Leap Stairways French kisses in the darkened doorways A foghorn blowing out wild and cold A policeman shines a light upon my shoulder…

  We walk a half mile or so and cross the The Gateshead Millennium Bridge and study its mechanism that enables it to blink. Bill tells us that it ‘blinks’ every lunchtime in the summer and I ask if there are casualties…

  This stretch of Tyne is wonderful and we get several ‘Tyne Photos’ that include the High Level bridge with it’s two stories, rail traffic on top and vehicles underneath, The Swing Bridge and, of course, The Tyne Bridge. There are seven bridges that link Newcastle with Gateshead all within a mile and to top it off, the Gateshead side now has the wonderful Sage for concerts and conventions and the Baltic for art.

We spend half an hour on the top floor in the Baltic sitting on some comfortable Chesterfields and drinking coffee whilst enjoying the sun and the classical sight of The Tyne gently flowing to the North Sea enhanced by the iconic bridges and topped off with the Sage, just fabulous.

We intend to catch the 1608 train and make our way back along the river, no hurry, it’s too good for that. Then up more steps and we’re back at the Keep. The sun’s still shining but it’s getting colder and we’ve very nearly had enough.

    The day’s been fabulous.

This is an excellent trip and I would recommend it but advice would need to be taken if you have disabilities.

Enjoy the snaps…G..x

With Cecilia Kennedy, George Renwick, Dave Rider, Peter Hymer, George Preston and Bill Humphrey – thank you all for a great day and further thanks to you Bill for being our guide.

  If you think others would enjoy the pictures, walks and anecdotes please feel free to “share” using the links. Thanks.

This is life after an Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm open repair. Don’t be afraid of the operation, it set me free. Please be encouraged and inspired to walk, it’s liberating…G..x

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Newcastle Castle and the Literary and Philosophical Society! So Peeps, today we learn that Newcastle has a Castle and the city’s name is derived from an order issued by William the Conquerer, to build a “New Castle on the Tyne”.