#i think i peeked a story years ago that said ely was never really close friends w/the band & it's like COOL i'll get back to u after a few-

[cathymee]

OKAY why is ang huling el bimbo THE song. like it's THE song. of all time.

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico: Tantei Sukautingu

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.7k Rating: K Time Frame: Early in Maki’s 2nd year of high school and Nico’s 1st year of college. Story Arc: Stand Alone

List of all HtHaN scenes

Author’s Note: A scene inspired by this lovely work by @myonmukyuu. Despite the handful of speed bumps I hit, I had a lot of fun writing this.

Maki sighed. “Are the costumes really necessary, Nico-chan?”

“Of course!” The older girl proclaimed. “If we are to do detective work, then we need the proper attire!”

Detectives? Had Nico just gone from claiming her twin-tails were some sort of radar or whatever to the two of them being detectives?

“I…” Maki started.

“Don’t get it?” Nico finished for her with a grin. “<It’s elementary, my dear Maki-chan!>” The former Sherlock cosplayer repeated her phrase from a few months ago. “Together we shall seek clues of cuteness that will lead us to good candidates for school idols!” She posed dramatically to emphasize her words. “And we shall use our deductive reasoning to determine the best of the best to join your new group!”

Maki’s shoulders slumped as she relented and started changing. She hadn’t asked where Nico had found the costumes from last year, but she assumed Kotori had been involved. The more formal version of the set had been kept by the photography company, but the more stylized, or idolized as Nico liked to call them, had apparently been kept by the group.

In any case, Nico had come back to visit because she wanted to help recruit new members to replace Eli, Nozomi and herself. Maki tried to point out that the club had already gained more members than they had lost by the former third-years graduating, but nobody else seemed to listen. Well, nobody else but the level-headed Umi, but she hadn’t really seen a reason to stop Nico from helping. So of course, the rest of the group had been more than willing to let the former µ’s member assist however she wanted.

And it came as no surprise to Maki that Nico had ended up dragging her into the shenanigans. Not that she minded, of course, but far be it for her admit it openly. She also didn’t let on that she had a strange sense of déjà vu about the whole situation. But maybe that was just because of the familiar costumes?

And on the topic of costumes, Maki remembered liking this set. She stole a glance at the older girl. Though she most commonly wore pink, and there was certainly pink in the costume, Nico looked really good in purple. The soft pastel shades complimented Nico’s natural cuteness. Maki’s outfit had purple as well, though it was darker, and on the inside of the cape. And the shade of red that was the primary color also leaned a bit toward the purple side. Thus, taken together, the outfits were unquestionably a pair. Not only by color scheme, but also by character theme; Holmes and Watson.

“Hrmm…” Maki furrowed her brow as she found it a little difficult to secure the outfit’s top.

“Something wrong?” Nico asked, not appearing to have similar trouble.

“It’s a little tighter than I remember.” The redhead replied, finally getting it to cooperate.

Maki immediately realized her mistake as the raven-haired girl’s face darkened.

“Nico doesn’t even need to be a detective to know what Maki is implying by that.”

“Wha? No!” Maki protested. “That’s not what I meant!

“Hrmph.” Nico turned away.

Well, that wasn’t the best start for things…

Maki noted that Nico did not take her hand when she lead the way out into the hall. She felt herself frown when she realized that the lack of such a simple gesture left her more than a bit disappointed.

Nico crouched as she lead the way down the hall. Cautiously, she peeked around the corner, holding up her prop magnifying glass as though might actually somehow help locate a future school idol.

“…” Maki sighed quietly and mimicked the gesture, though she didn’t bother crouching.

Suddenly, Nico slipped around the corner and down the hall. Maki facepalmed and shook her head as the older girl acted out the stealth moves of a bad Hollywood ninja. The redhead eventually followed at a normal walking pace.

“!?” A second-year student jumped a bit when Nico approached, scrutinizing her through the goggles of her costume.

“Nope.” Nico said after a moment and moved on.

The confused girl looked at Maki who merely shrugged and followed her friend.

“Ah ha!” Nico cried and sped over to a third-year.

“Wha? Hey!” The girl protested as Nico grabbed her hand and dragged her toward Maki.

A strange sensation skittered across Maki’s consciousness, causing her eye to twitch and her lips to form a grimace.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” The girl with the green ribbon yanked her hand free.

“Maki-chan! Look!” Nico called happily. “She’d make a perfect school idol!”

Maki couldn’t deny that the girl’s voice could easily be of idol quality. With some training, of course. Her figure was somewhat close to Maki’s, though she decided her own was better. Either way, it was fine for a school idol. And the girl’s sharp eyes demanded attention… what did Nico like to call them? Tsurime? All in all, she was probably a decent candidate, but something about her set Maki’s teeth on edge.

“School idol?” The girl with the third-year ribbon raised an eyebrow. “While I guess I’m grateful to that one group that helped prevent this school from closing last year, or something like that, I don’t have time for such frivolous activities. And what’s with that strange thing with your hand?” She mimicked Nico’s gesture.

Maki held up the small X sign Nico had given her at the onset of this adventure. Though she had thought the idea silly at first, she now felt it fitting for the current situation.

“Yeah, you’re probably right, Maki-chan.” Nico pursed her lips. “The group really should only have one tsundere-type.”

“I am not a tsundere!” Both Maki and the third-year protested in unison.

“Well not if you’re just going to be tsun.” Nico laughed merrily before grabbing Maki’s hand. “C’mon, let’s keep looking.”

“A-alright.” Maki replied, suddenly feeling a bit better for some reason.

The two girls continued their search for a little while, with the next dozen or so girls not really raising their interest. Then, someone caught Maki’s eye and she headed over. As she neared, she realized the girl was a first-year, which probably explained her height and overall stature. But she was quite cute. Not as cute as Nico… or… at least that’s probably what Nico would say.

However, as soon as Maki turned around to show Nico, the older girl was already holding up her X.

“What? Why?” Maki asked, walking back.

“No twin-tails.” Nico replied, shaking her head.

“Huh?”

“Nico won’t be recruiting any twin-tailed girls into your group.”

“But… Nico-chan wears…”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get it…”

“Nico-nii~ wouldn’t know what to do~ if Maki-chan fell for someone e~lse.” Nico practically sang.

“Buweehh?” Maki recoiled.

As if Maki would fall for someone other than N… As if she would fall for anyone! Certainly not Nico! She didn’t have time for silly little things like love. Geez…

“A~nyway,” Nico continued. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to find any new recruits today. Perhaps Nico can come tomorrow so we can make another round.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Or later in the week if that works better for you.”

“Hrm…”

“And it’s a good excuse to wear these cute outfits again.”

“Do we have to?”

“Of course!” Nico proclaimed again. “They’re quite appropriate for the work we’re doing. And don’t think Nico didn’t see Maki-chan checking her out earlier. Maki-chan obviously likes how cute Nico is when wearing this.” The twin-tailed girl twirled for effect.

“I… I…” Maki felt heat gathering her cheeks.

Nico laughed at the other girl’s adorable reaction. “Also,” She started after calming down, “all this detective work is making Nicolock thirsty.” She suddenly adopted a more formal air. “Mayhap Maki-chan would join me for a spot of tea? I am thinking Lapsang souchong to be a good choice. And I believe biscuit or two would not be out of place.”

“What was that?”

“Or doest thou prefer scones?”

“…?”

“Teacakes?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Crumpets?”

“I’ve… actually never had a crumpet before.”

“Never had a crumpet?” Nico placed a hand over her chest in feigned shock. “And here Nico thought Maki was all worldly and traveled. Surely she’d’ve had a crumpet on one of her trips to London or wherever.”

“I’ve been to London.” Maki confirmed. “But that doesn’t automatically mean I’ve had a crumpet.” An idea occurred to her and she smirked. “Surely the Great Nicolock should have been able to deduce something like that.”

“Geh…” Nico’s teasing demeanor slipped for a moment. “A-anyway… You’re in luck! There is an English tea party themed shop that opened recently. They have wonderful teas and pastries and sandwiches and stuff. We should go and get some Lapsang souchong tea!”

Maki raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so insistent that we get that kind of tea?”

“Isn’t that Sherlock’s favorite?”

“I thought he drank coffee… and stuff that shouldn’t be consumed as a beverage.”

“Maybe it was mentioned a time or two?”

“Did you actually read the books?”

“Uhm…”

“Wait, did you just Google a bunch of stuff so you could be more like Holmes?”

“I…” Nico paused. “Nicoock deduced all of that!” She finally decided.

Maki couldn’t help chuckling a bit at the older girl’s conviction, even if it was obviously false.

“Anyway, let’s go!” Nico grabbed the younger girl’s hand. “If Maki-chan prefers coffee, they probably have that too, but Nico recommends the tea.”

“W-wait!” Maki resisted.

“Hmm?”

“We’re going to change first, right?” The redhead questioned. “We’re not actually going to go out dressed like this, are we?”

The raven-haired girl looked down at the costume she was still wearing and laughed. “Alright, alright. If Maki-chan insists.” Not letting go of Maki’s hand, she changed direction to head back to the clubroom.

This time, Maki allowed herself to be lead along. She even allowed herself a smile at the familiarity of the situation; Nico dragging her wherever. Even if their endeavor had been unsuccessful, Maki didn’t need a detective’s deductive reasoning to realize she had enjoyed herself. There was little doubt in her mind that she would continue to have fun wherever Nico lead her. And maybe, just maybe, she was looking forward to doing it all again tomorrow, or later in the week. Just a bit… Maybe.

Author’s Note Continued: Guess who had their first crumpet while on vacation recently! Honestly, I may have to find a recipe or something and make my own. They were really good. I may have also purchased a lot of good tea. And that all may have influenced part of this scene. Just a bit... Maybe.

Guess who also Googled random Sherlock stuff! It’s been far to long since I’ve read any of Sir Arthur Conan’s books, so I needed a quick refresher. As much as I love RDJ, Eggs Benedict with Cucumber, and Jonny Lee Miller, I kind of wanted to keep my references to the classic works if possible.

Also, the thing about Nico’s twin tails being a radar is borrowed from the manga.

Finally, thank you myonmukyuu for making another wonderful NicoMaki pic that was able to spark my imagination once again.

Cards Referenced:

[dreamilyzealousbird]

Happy Valentine’s 2k18

so I dedicate this fic to my dear Valentine @fiery-feyre <3

Happy Valentine’s day! I hope you enjoy it.

(quick shout out to my lovely @rowaelinsmut for helping me edit. TYSM <3)

Elain’s wedding was in a week, and Nesta dreaded the day for a different reason other than the fact that her little sister was marrying Lucien, of all people. She hadn’t been able to find a date, which meant getting set up with Lucien’s brother. She wanted to avoid that situation at all costs, but also didn’t want to upset Elain. Feyre had a date and she had suggested she could introduce Nesta to her new boyfriend’s brother but Nesta had quickly shut that down. She would have to figure out something later. It was time for zumba class at the rec center, so with one last look at the mirror to check her hair was secure in a ponytail, she grabbed her keys and left.

The rec center was busy and Nesta hoped she wouldn’t run into the insufferable brute who was always working out outside the dance room. Of course, it wasn’t totally his fault he happened to be a personal trainer there. Nesta met Cassian a year ago, when she started attending zumba class. He was showing a client the proper way to do a squat and he caught her checking out his butt. Needless to say, he had teased her endlessly until she had muttered a string of curses at him and it had all gone downhill from there; at least she thought so as he always found time to go out of his way and annoy her with his lame flirting tactics.

—

Cassian was eager to start the class. The instructor had called in sick, and since he was certified in zumba, the manager asked him to step in. He knew his friend Nesta would be there. She never missed a class, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw him standing there. Nesta had something in her fiery blue-grey eyes that enticed him. She commanded the room with her presence, and he loved to work her up. Her words never ceased to awaken a primal instinct in him. Since the first day he had set eyes on her, his thoughts always seemed to drift to that woman, Nesta.

—

As Nesta entered the room, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Why of all days, did he have to be here? He was standing there in all his glory like a war God… wait what? What was she thinking?  

“What are you doing here Cassian?” she asked him.

He turned to address her, “I’m your zumba instructor today,” he smirked at her.

She decided that it wasn’t worth putting up with this insufferable man; she would just miss today’s class. Besides, watching all these people swoon over him put her in a bad mood.

“Leaving already, Nes? I never thought you’d back away from a challenge.”

Ugh. “I don’t,” she answered reluctantly.

“Then stay here, I bet you’ll enjoy my dancing more.”

There was no way she would survive this class. Nesta decided she would stand at the back of the room, where there was less of a chance of him looking at her dancing; even with the large mirrors at the front of the room.

“Welcome everyone, my name is Cassian, and I’ll be your instructor today. Let’s get started, and make sure you have fun!“

The song Havana by Camila Cabello came on the sound system, and Cassian started moving to the rhythm. Nesta gaped; the way he moved to the music, his hips swaying side to side; the muscles under his shirt rippling in such a sensual way that had her cheeks burning. She needed to stop staring or he was going to tease her. Again.

—

Cassian couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face. The beautiful way Nesta blushed at the way he moved was adorable. She was exquisite; he was captivated by her eyes and the way she pretended not to look at him. Today, today would be the day he asked her out. Maybe when she was working he would casually stop by the library and ask her to recommend a new book. Yes, perfect plan.

—

Nesta walked out of the dance classroom as fast as her legs could manage. She needed a very long, very cold shower after that session. Nobody should be allowed to look that good while sweating - which only made her think of other ways he could work up a sweat. No! She needed to stop thinking about Cassian. She had to get ready for work if she didn’t want to be late.

The library was quiet as usual. Nothing better to relax with than sorting books, and the scent of the pages waiting to be read. This was her favorite place to be. As Nesta walked back to her desk, she saw a familiar pair of red sneakers peeking out from behind the furniture.

“Hey there Nes,” he smiled that crooked smile she loved.

“What can I help you with today?” She asked with poise.

“I actually wanted to ask you if there was any book you could recommend me?”

“Okay, what kind of genre do you like to read?”

Cassian pondered for a bit before answering, “I like mostly nonfiction, memoirs, history. Lots of informational stuff.”

Alright, she was not expecting that answer.

“Have you read Night by Elie Wiesel? It’s not new but it is the story of a holocaust survivor. It is an amazing read.”

Something like surprise flitted across his eyes before disappearing. “Actually I haven’t read it. Can you help me find it?” he asked.

“Of course.”

As Nesta and Cassian walked back to the bookshelf, she couldn’t help but shiver every time she felt the ghost of his breath on her bare shoulder. She found the book, and as she turned around, she found him staring at her with what she thought looked like longing in his eyes.

“Here you go.” She handed the book to him, and his fingers brushed against hers, and she felt her belly flutter in response.

“Thank you, Nesta.”

She met his eyes and saw a question lingering there. She was about to turn to walk back to her desk, but he caught her off guard and then asked, “I was also wondering if maybe you would like to grab dinner with me sometime?”

He looked nervous and an idea popped into her head; one she would most likely regret later.

“Actually, I have a favor to ask of you. I need a date for my sister’s wedding. Would you be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend for a night?”

—

Cassian couldn’t move. He never thought she would actually consider going out with him, much less ask him to pretend to be her boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re just wanting to pretend? I saw the way you were looking at me during zumba.”

Her eyes went round and that beautiful blush he so dearly loved made its way to her cheeks.

“Can you be serious for one minute? Look, if you can’t I understand, I’ll just ask someone else.”

No. No way was he going to let anyone else take his place.

“Yes, of course I’ll do it.” He saw the relief settle in her eyes.

“Good. So I’ll be wearing cream and gold. Make sure we match. The wedding is on the 7th at six o’clock. Pick me up at five. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, milady. But I don’t know where you live and I don’t have your number.”

She growled in frustration, then extended her hand, “I’ll type my number into your cell. Text me, and I will give you my address.”

Just like that, Cassian had Nesta’s number. Yes! He was doing a celebratory dance in his head; he had been trying to get it almost since the day he met her. He couldn’t wait to be Nesta’s boyfriend. Well, her pretend boyfriend, but maybe one day it would become reality.

—

Nesta was still pondering over what she had done.

“Cassian is my boyfriend,” she said out loud. What was she thinking? This was going to be a disaster. Just then, she received a text from a unknown number.

~Hey it’s Cassian :)

An emoji? Really? She answered him with her address and tossed her cellphone on her bed when another message came in.

~So do u have a date yet? - Feyre

~If not, we could set u up with some1 - Elain

Great. So they were group chatting.

~ No it’s ok, I’ll be attending with my boyfriend - Nesta

~ YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!?! - Feyre

~ Since when? - Elain

~ No need to be so surprised, Fey. Yes, I have one and we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks. You’ll meet him at the wedding. Goodnight! - Nesta

—

It was the day of the wedding and Cassian was nervous. He was wearing a grey suit with a crisp white shirt and a cream and gold striped tie. The same color as Nesta’s dress, which she had sent him a picture of so he could get the color right. He couldn’t wait to see her but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act around her. Instead of overthinking it, he grabbed the keys to his car and locked the door behind him. He just hoped that tonight was going to be a good one.

—

Nesta heard the doorbell ring. She couldn’t believe her sister was getting married today. She put her lipstick in her gold clutch, and looked one last time in the mirror. She had done her hair in long curls and one side was pinned back with a crystal comb. Her dress was long, with billowy layers, and also sleeveless, which meant she would need a wrap for the night chill. She walked to the front door and opened it. There he was, his hair out of his usual bun, and looking like the most handsome man she had ever seen.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted her with a cocky smile, which she answered with one of her own.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yes, just let me lock up quickly.” She closed the door and followed him to his car. Like a true gentleman, he opened the door and helped her in the passenger seat.

“So, I told my sisters we’ve been dating for a few weeks; we met at the rec center, and you asked me out, and I said yes after the third time.”

She refused to look at him while she lay this information on him; wary of how he may react to the story she concocted.

She heard him huff, then he said, “Alright love, whatever you say.”

“Don’t call me that,” she exclaimed.

“You’re my girlfriend for tonight, Nesta, we gotta make it believable. Do you trust me?”

And surprisingly, she did. “Yes.”

He then smiled at her and said, “let’s go party.”

—

The ceremony was beautiful. Elain and Lucien looked so in love and happy with all their family and friends surrounding them. Now they were moving inside for the party. The barn looked lovely. They had decorated it with twinkling lights strung from the rafters, and the tables had lace, with gerbera daisies, roses, and carnations of different shades adorning the center pieces.

She felt Cassian next to her, as he offered his arm to walk her to their table. It turned out that Cassian and Feyre’s new boyfriend were actually brothers; he was the one they had tried to set her up with. Cassian had answered with “It looks like we were meant to be, love,” to which she gave him a death glare which everyone thought that was hilarious. Cassian kissed her on the nose.

She was surprised at how attentive and caring he was towards her, but she couldn’t figure out if he was truly like this or just pretending. Nesta told herself to snap out of it. She would leave analysing his behavior for another day. Right now, she would bask in his company, which she seemed to enjoy more and more as the time passed by. Even on her worst days, he always found a way to make her smile, whether telling her a joke or relaying a funny story of him and his family. Maybe Cassian wasn’t so bad after all.

—

Cassian couldn’t stop touching her. He kept finding ways to hold her hand, brush his fingers along her bare shoulder, or place his hand on the small of her back as they walked back to their table after talking to yet another older couple; who seemed surprised that Nesta had a boyfriend.

“You would think they haven’t seen enough couples around that you and I shouldn’t shock everyone.”

He felt bad at how judgemental everybody -with the exception of his sisters- were being. She was a passionate woman, who deserved every bit of good things going her way, but nobody could see what he did.

“Don’t feel bad, Nesta, they’re just mad because I happen to have the most beautiful woman by my side tonight. Aside from the bride of course.” He quickly amended after she sent a glare his way.

“It’s just hard to know that I won’t be accepted unless I have a man by my side. Half of these people have never acknowledged me until they saw me walk in with you today.”

He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her she was worth all those people put together and more. Instead, he offered the next best thing. “Would you like some dessert? I know cake helps me feel better.”

She smiled at him, a genuine smile that warmed his insides. Cassian left her at their table and worked his way to the cake where Rhys and Feyre were doing butterfly kisses.

“Ew you two, get a room.”

Rhys gently shoved him and Feyre stuck her tongue out at him.

“So how is dear Nesta treating you? I hear she is quite a handful.”

Cassian glared at him. “She is amazing, and I would appreciate if you didn’t insult my girl. I’m here to get her cake because her family isn’t being very nice.”

Feyre frowned. “I swear they get worse every year. The only reason they haven’t hounded me is because Rhys keeps glaring at everyone.”

Rhys shrugged, “What can I say, I can be very intimidating.”  

“In your dreams, maybe. Now if you’ll excuse me, my Nesta is waiting for me.”

—

Nesta was actually having fun. Cassian had gone all out in convincing her family they were together. He had even participated in the garter toss and won. Now it was the ladies’ turn, and Elain was calling everyone to participate in the bouquet toss. She was only doing it because it was her sister, otherwise she would have gone to hide in the bathroom.

Now she was standing in the back among all the desperate old women looking to dance with her date. She was so distracted, that she didn’t notice when Elain tossed the bouquet and it landed at her feet. Everybody started cheering and she can’t help but glance at Cassian, who looked… relieved? Maybe it was just that he didn’t want to dance with old aunt Marge and was now free from her clutches.

As the dance floor cleared, Elain and Lucien walked Cassian towards her and announced, “And now my sister Nesta will share this dance with her man, Cassian!”

The song came on, and it was, of course, “You Can’t Hurry Love” by the Supremes - her mother’s favorite song. She would sing this song to the girls when they were young. Her eyes instantly welled up and Cassian looked at with concern clouding his eyes.

“Are you okay Nes?” He asked her.

She then decided to tell him the story of her mom. The song was nearing its end when she finished speaking, and people started chanting, “Kiss! Kiss!”  

“We might as well give them what they want.” Nesta suggested.

She didn’t think about the look that crossed his face; she stood on her toes and locked lips with him. The kiss was magical, like nothing like she had ever felt before. It ignited a spark in her she couldn’t seem to put out. The kiss was over too quickly for her liking, but she didn’t let it show.

Cassian held out a hand to her and they walked back to their table. He was very quiet after that, and Nesta couldn’t help but think she had done something wrong.

—

That kiss. Gods-damn him. He couldn’t get her taste and the feel of her lips off his mind. They were on their way home and she had been distant since they had shared that amazing kiss. He didn’t want to say anything to upset her and ruin their friendship, so he stayed quiet. They pulled up to her place, and he decided to break the silence.

“Are you okay? You seem upset.”

She turned her head towards him and answered, “Yes, I’m fine, just tired. It’s late and my feet hurt from dancing.”

“Let me walk you to you door.”

She nodded. He didn’t want the night to end yet, but he wasn’t sure that Nesta would invite him in.

“I had a wonderful time, Nes. Thanks for inviting me to your sister’s wedding. I’ll see you later?” he said, more question than statement.

She nodded, “Goodnight, Cassian.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and lingered for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Goodnight, Nes.” He just hoped he hadn’t ruined any chances he had of taking her out again. He knew what he would do. He would prepare something special to show her how much she meant to him. First though, he had to enlist the help of his friend.

—

Nesta missed her big brute. She hadn’t seen Cassian since the day after the wedding; they were both at the rec center, and it had been so awkward that she left him there without saying goodbye.

Today was Valentine’s day and she decided to bake her famous double chocolate brownies and pay him a visit. Maybe she would talk about the kiss and why she had been so distant. She messaged Feyre to get Cassian’s address from Rhys. She would explain to her later why she didn’t know where he lived.

She hoped Cassian would like her surprise. Nesta tentatively knocked on Cassian’s door, and a few seconds later, a woman with dark, cropped hair opened the door.

“Can I help you?” She asked Nesta.

She felt her eyes widen with surprise as she heard Cassian call, “Amren, who is it?”

She felt anger and sadness. She could barely discern Cassian’s form, as she felt her vision blur from her unshed tears. She walked back toward her car with a word and she could hear him calling after her, “Nesta, wait!”

Cassian shot his hand out and held on to her wrist. She turned to face him, “I just came by to see if you were doing okay, I can see now that I didn’t need to worry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to leave.”

Confusion and concern marred his beautiful hazel eyes, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“What are you talking about, Nesta? You’re the one who always pushes me away! I was actually on my way-”

Nesta blurted out, “I love you! Okay? I have for a while now, I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything but you clearly don’t feel the same way…” Cassian cut her off by kissing her. She was shocked at first, but she quickly returned the kiss, pouring all the love she felt for him against his lips.

—

Cassian was kissing Nesta. And she was kissing him back; and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. He finally pulled away from her and told her, “I’ve loved you since the day I met you. Also, Amren is a friend, so no need to get jealous.”

He winked at her, and she playfully rolled her eyes. Cassian sensed Amren and Varian walk behind him.

“See you later, lovebirds,” he heard Nesta chuckle and waved goodbye to the other couple.

“So, do you want to come in? I was actually preparing a surprise dinner for you and I see you brought dessert.”

A beautiful blush made its way to Nesta’s cheeks; his favorite look on her. They settled down after eating dinner, and for the next few hours, they talked about everything and nothing at all; just enjoying each other’s company. Finally with Nesta in his arms, settling into a comfortable slumber in his arms, Cassian knew there was nowhere he would rather be than holding the love of his life.  

[rrrawrf-writes]

stuff i wrote at work 12

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | this is pt. 3 | pt. 4 (paired with a rhiot fic; skip to the bottom half for winn) | pt. 5

i figured i ought to at least give some links to the whole dang thing if i’m still going to be writing this crap :| kinda messy, sorry, but i know if i repost them at all i’ll also have to go through and edit them and that’s more effort than i want to spare at the moment.

here’s some sam. if the ending seems familiar, that’s because i posted a sneak peek earlier this week.

Rembrandt glanced sidelong at Sam. “I’m sorry for the mess he made of your clothes.”

“Hmm?” Sam looked blankly at Rembrandt, then down at his outfit. He only had a few smears of blood on his shirt; the knees of his jeans were soaked, though, from kneeling in blood. “Oh. It’ll wash out.”

Rembrandt arched his eyebrows. Sam shrugged. “Not the first time I got blood on my clothes.”

“Ah,” was Rembrandt’s only response. They had reached the end of the hallway by then; Rembrandt leaned forward to hit the down arrow. When the doors slid open, Rembrandt frowned at the far wall.

A mirror ran around the top half of the elevator walls. A spiderweb of cracks spread across the glass just ahead of them, eye-level with Rembrandt. 

“What happened here?”

“Guy didn’t wanna get in the elevator.” Sam propped himself up in a corner as the doors closed. “Hunt got a little rough.”

That was an understatement. Winn had balked and argued, digging in his heels until Huntington literally slammed Winn into the elevator, cracking his head against the glass. Even then, Winn had been too busy arguing with them to notice Sam heal over the cut.

“Interesting.” Rembrandt took up post in the center of the elevator as they made their long journey to the ground floor. Sam patted his pockets, and frowned when he couldn’t find his energy bar. He must have eaten it already.

“How bad is the leg?”

Sam, his mind wandering again, looked up. “Sorry?”

“His leg,” Rembrandt repeated. “Can he still use it?”

“He really shouldn’t,” Sam said warily. “But if he absolutely had to...”

The small smile on Rembrandt’s face was not comforting. Sam closed his eyes, remembering similar conversations, similar expressions, with Edrian.

Why did he agree to this?

“There’s no way Yale is on the level,” Rembrandt said abruptly. “You still have plenty of contacts around here, don’t you?”

Sam nodded, and Rembrandt went on. “Good. Put out some feelers. Idiot never could keep his mouth shut. Someone must know what he’s playing at here.”

“Okay.” Sam couldn’t even pretend enthusiasm, not even when Rembrandt pressed a thick envelope full of cash into his hands, and entreated him to buy some new clothes. Sam mumbled something noncommittal and started down the street.

Eli waited for him in the parking lot of a fast food place, sitting on the trunk of his car. He was engrossed in his phone, looking up as Sam called a greeting.

“Got you some food, it’s on the seat,” Eli said, sliding off the car. “Where’s Vinn?”

“Who?”

“Vinn. You know, skinny thief guy.”

Sam frowned. “Thought his name was Lynn.”

“No, pretty sure it starts with a ‘V.’“ Eli slid into the driver’s seat, reaching across to move the three giant, greasy paper bags out of Sam’s way. “Maybe it’s Ben? Anyway, where is he?”

“Rembrandt shot him.” Sam eagerly took the bags of food from Eli’s hand, and when he caught the horrified look on the other man’s face, Sam quickly added, “In the leg. He’s fine, but Rembrandt won’t let him go.”

“Aw, man,” Eli muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. Sam shrugged.

“We thought that might happen,” he reminded Eli. Sam just hadn’t thought it would be quite so - dramatic. “Didn’t Gale tell you Rembrandt has a grudge?”

“Yeah,” Eli said. “It didn’t sound like a big deal.”

Sam scoffed. “It was a big deal.”

“Crap.”

Sam turned his attention to the bags of greasy food Eli had bought him. His stomach churned as he pulled out a wrapped hamburger; he kept hearing Winn’s sobbing in his head.

“He had to know what he was getting into,” Sam said defensively. He didn’t even know Winn. Rembrandt wasn’t going to kill him. At least, not before Eli and Sam got Winn out of there.

Sam thought he had left this kind of guilt behind years ago.

Eli looked him as he pulled out onto the road, but he didn’t say anything.

“Thought I was done with this,” Sam muttered, and dropped the fast food back onto the floor at his feet.

“What, McDonald’s?” Eli looked concerned. “We can stop somewhere else, if you want.”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Sam hesitated. He liked his coworkers - even Mickey, as childish as they were - but Sam hadn’t really been able to talk to anyone. But he thought Eli might understand - and even if he didn’t, he would listen.

“He’s another Edrian,” Sam said. He turned his voice high and mocking. “‘Fix him, Sam, but not too much, he has to suffer. And here’s some table scraps for your trouble.’“

Sam desperately wanted to hit something; he slammed his head back against the seat instead. “This is - It’s all his fault. I could’ve been a ------ surgeon by now, you know that?”

Eli ran his hands over the steering wheel, frowning at the road. “Do you want out?”

Sam snorted. “What, out of this op? How’re we s’posed to manage that?”

Eli chewed on his bottom lip. “Fake your death?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t think that’d work. Besides, Emmanuel would make that real.”

He looked down at his hands, ignoring the growling in his stomach. “It’s starting all over again. Rembrandt is using me the same way Edrian did.”

“What, to heal people? That’s not bad, Sam.”

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed down the urge to yell. “He’s using me to torture people, Eli.”

His words created a short, tense silence. Sam dared one look at Eli, only to see the man staring, mouth tight, at the road as he drove. After a long moment, Eli pulled up at a stoplight and closed his eyes, letting out a short breath.

“That’s not your fault, Sam.”

Sam stared at him. “What?”

“The - what Edrian made you do.” Eli rubbed the back of his neck, fingering a scar that cut across one of his tattooed flowers. “You were forced into that.”

“You don’t - I had a choice, Eli,” Sam snapped, frustration building up in his chest.

“Did you, really?” Eli asked, stepping on the gas pedal as the light changed from red to green. “You told me yourself. He could’ve killed you if you tried to get out of it.”

“So?” Sam snapped. “That - That would have been better than becoming a murderer!”

“Sam -”

He was wrong. Eli didn’t get it. Sam pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, then bit out, “Stop the car.”

“What?”

Sam didn’t repeated himself; he just grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. Eli slammed on the brake, and Sam had to brace himself on the dashboard. Luckily, it was a quiet enough street that no one was around to see them stop in the middle of the road.

“What are you doing, Sam?” Eli asked earnestly. “Hey, c’mon, get back in the car.”

Sam slammed the door shut, dragging a hand over his head. It stopped at the nape of his neck, and he screwed his eyes shut, digging his fingernails into his skin for a moment as he fought to keep his breath steady.

“Sam.” Eli’s voice stopped him before he could walk off. The pink-haired man had rolled down the passenger side window, and he leaned across the seats to hold one of the bags of fast food out. “Take this, at least. I heard your stomach growling.”

Sam wavered, but then took the bag. Eli didn’t let go, and took the moment to fix Sam with his gaze.

“You know the difference between you and them, Sam?” he asked, so quietly that Sam almost couldn’t hear Eli over the car engine. “You’re trying to be better.”

Sam dropped his gaze to the asphalt. This time, when he tugged on the bag, Eli let go. Sam stepped back, then said, awkwardly, “I - I’m just walking back.”

“All right.” Eli’s eyes were still full of worry as Sam turned away, hunching his shoulders up.

Kawai opened her hotel door and arched her eyebrows.

“What do you want?” she asked Sam, leaning against the doorjam. He looked awful - thin and exhausted. Like he had, back when he worked for Edrian. Rembrandt must be running him ragged. Blood splatters accented his clothes.

Seeing the guy like this didn’t stir any sympathy in her whatsoever. She didn’t ask whose blood it was.

Sam rubbed his eyes. “Been talkin’ to Eli.”

“Yeah, and?”

Sam gave her a weary look. “He didn’t understand.”

Kawai straightened up and dropped her hand onto the doorknob. “Look, Sam, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but we aren’t friends. Take your sob story somewhere else.”

Sam lifted a cardboard drink holder; glass bottles clinked together invitingly. Kawai narrowed her eyes. “Thought you couldn’t get drunk.”

“No, but you can.”

“Not enough.”

Sam passed a hand over his face. “He - I thought you might know better.”

She arched her eyebrows again. Sam glanced at her, then away, clearly struggling.

“Eli doesn’t - he’s so determined to give you second chances,” he said, “that he refuses to - to get it. I’m not a good person, Taule'alo.”

She started to see what he was getting at. “No.”

Sam nodded, exhausted. “Look, I mean, I know he’s trying, but… He won’t let you just look at what you’ve done, and see it for what it is. He’s so determined to make you feel better that he won’t - he doesn’ t- ”

“He doesn’t let you face up to your own past,” Kawai finished. Something in her eyes softened. “He won’t let you grieve.”

Sam looked at her for one hopeful second, then dropped his gaze and nodded.

Kawai sighed, then opened her door wider and stepped back. “This is the only time, Sam. You’re still a bastard.”

He gave her back a crooked grin. “At least I’m a bastard with booze.”

[gccblufftononline]

Building a Home Your Kids Want to Come Home To

Kindred and Grace Website by Hayley Novak

building a home your kids want to come home to SHARES I’ve always admired families who stay close after their children are grown. A boy who wants to bring his girlfriend home, girls who go shopping with their mom even after mom’s style is. . . mom-ish. Happy camaraderie and a freedom to be unique while coming back to the fold to be loved unconditionally are metaphoric blocks we are trying to build into our family structure. Happy, healthy, close (but not clingy) grown families are so rare anymore. When I see one, I want to stop and pull up a chair and watch, like a happy movie, pressing pause at my favorite scenes and hyper-analyzing each minute detail. I watch my neighbors in awe, Sundays set aside for their grown children to drop by. I watch the massive quantities of groceries rushed in the door in preparation, Lay’s potato chips peeking out of the grocery sacks, the smell of the grill starting, as one by one the vehicles arrive, as their kids bring their kids home. I feel like a stalker but it’s hard to tear myself away from the sweetness of a family who loves well. But looking at the epically cool families while your little ones aren’t even sleeping through the night can be depressing: happy philosophy discussions over bowls of ice cream seem light years away. I don’t know this for sure, but here’s what I think: take heart because happy starts now. I don’t have a three-step plan, but we care deeply about creating a safe family. Our kids aren’t babies anymore; JD is 11, Cambria is 9 and our youngest, Eli, is 4. We are still in the thick of it. We don’t know how it will all turn out. But here are eleven things we are doing to build relationships with our kids and create a home they’ll want to visit someday.

1. Listening >Lecturing If I want my sixteen-year-old to talk to me about life, then I must listen to my fifth grader. It is hard sometimes. I find it hard to focus. Several weeks ago JD came home from a party and sat at the counter and proceeded to download every single detail. I honestly didn’t want to hear every little bit but a warning deep in my soul stopped me from sending him to the shower. Instead, I put away dishes and listened to his happy chatter. I looked across the counter at his face, still round with boyhood, and knew in my spirit that listening mattered. Daniel told me the other day that he took JD disc golfing; he relayed, a bit shocked, that JD had kept up a running conversation with him for the entire 18 holes. Does the talking stop for teens because parents stop listening? I don’t know yet. I only know at this stage I’m very, very tempted to stop listening: the stakes aren’t super high, the stories aren’t super interesting, I hear a lot about different kinds of pizza, jokes, and play by play description of each sporting event. But every time I start to tune out, I think of what I want in the future and tune back in.

2. Structure & Spontaneity Children love surprises. Adults love surprises too, though we’ve conditioned ourselves well to the daily grind of life. But surprises aren’t much fun if they happen constantly. One aspect of my job as a mom right now is creating structure so that we can be spontaneous. This means bedtimes and baths and schoolwork, the rhythm of a weekend, chores and hard work. And then it means throwing it all to the wind and packing everyone up to skip school and ride the subway into Chicago to a rooftop pool Hotwire deal and see fireworks over Navy Pier and eat breakfast on Lake Michigan. Structure + spontaneity is eating oatmeal for breakfast all week so we can eat donuts every Monday morning. It means going to bed early so they can stay up late when we have company. It means working hard so they appreciate throwing the job list in the trash and going on a hike (with snacks). Schedule makes the surprise so much sweeter; but too much schedule is just sad. Why wait for your kids to be adults to travel with them? Or eat out? No one will think going to the carwash in pajamas is cool when they’re twenty, but they’ll remember it happened and smile all over again. (I know. I was the five-year-old in pajamas watching the carwash magic. I never forgot.) Do the fun stuff. Do it now.

3. Shopping While shopping is hardly a cross for a woman to bear, it takes time and energy and I realized with a flash one day that my daughter Cambria had been begging me to go shopping with her and I was just too busy. I love thrifting and she was looking for the glow of the mall forty minutes away. We made up a plan to shop on free Saturdays when Daniel could have Eli with him and set a date. I was stunned and humbled by how much my daughter loved doing this with me. I wanted to cry multiple times as I realized how much I’d already missed out on and what I could have missed if I didn’t listen to her. We shopped and shopped and shopped. My feet ached. She bought accessories like a diva on vacation but stuck to her budget religiously (her daddy was proud) while I succumbed to Target (her daddy was not as proud of me). Much like listening, if I want her to know I love her and care about her need to be beautiful when she’s sixteen, I need to be involved in all those feelings now. Right now it’s the perfect color of laces for soccer cleats. I’m told a girl’s beauty needs get more complicated. I’m in it for the long haul even if it has to involve the mall.

4. Music Our family loves music. It’s easy to make music styles a hot button conflict as kids get older. But we are trying hard to avoid that by creating “us” music, not “me” music. In other words, we listen to all sorts of music at the kitchen counter, looking up lyrics and critiquing music styles together. This requires patience for Daniel and me (I’ve given up a lot of music that I really love because it’s not best for everyone) but it also requires patience from our kids (they often have to be flexible too). When we listen and even play and create music together we can appreciate the art and not lapse into a me-oriented world of zoning out with headphones. One of our favorite things to do is create playlists for events and people. We have a massive library of online playlists, carefully curated and edited to fit moods and events: we have a Saturday Morning Pancakes playlist and a Beanbags playlist, not to mention Happy Birthday, Dad, School Background, JD’s Christmas Party, Mowing, Rainy/Soul, and Kick My Wednesday in Gear. My hope for the next few years is for music to draw us closer, not farther apart and give a window into the individuality of each child’s soul.

5. Open Door to Friends When does the proverbial door open to friends? I’m not sure and I don’t want to miss the window, so our door has been open from the start of our kids being able to have relationships. It only gets more enjoyable and fun as their friends get older (and funnier and more interesting). It is never easy to allow your home to be open. It’s not easy to teach a child how to be and have a good friend; having friends and being friendly is something taught most often by example. It’s exhausting to have toddlers over that bite each other and spill juice all over. It’s not easy to deal with hurt feelings when little girls leave each other out and it’s embarrassing if it’s your kid who is the offender. It feels weary to explain why your son can’t shoot his airsoft gun at friends without eye protection. Sometimes it seems easier to close the door to friends, but I’m not sure anything other than temporary comfort is accomplished by that choice. Interacting with my children and their friends gives me opportunity again and again to train them, to demonstrate and teach wisdom and grace as well as speaking life and love into the extra kids in our home. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I don’t even know my children’s friends. So that means waking up now, and interacting now and swinging the door open. . . wide.

6. Patience with Trends and Styles Children are going to become adults. It’s important as parents to guide their steps and set parameters, but there should still be a lot of room for individuality. Think carefully before you choose to die on the hill of which shoes your child wants to wear to the family reunion. This is really hard for me because I feel like our kids reflect us. We don’t want them to be rebellious but I’d rather use my influence on issues that are black and white rather than making my daughter a mini me. Our kids are just hitting the age of caring about all of this. Homeschooling doesn’t shield a child’s desperate need to fit in and feel cool! I don’t place high priority on the cool factor–in fact a very low one (“I shop at Goodwill. You can too!”)–but we don’t want to exasperate them either. I may live to regret this, but we have found that saying something like this works: “Hey, this isn’t our favorite thing, and please don’t wear it to special events but why don’t you wear it when you are going [fill in appropriate place for trendy item].” Time and time again I see the thrill of said trendy item wear off and the child acquiesce to our family’s more classic (read: boring) style of clothing and appearance. But in the meantime we have averted multiple world wars and wounded spirits and misunderstandings.

7. Pizza Night On Friday nights at 7 pm at our house, you will see people draw their activities to a close and show up for pizza and family movie night. We are on our second year of regularly doing this together and I have been surprised at how much everyone enjoys it. Sometimes Daniel even takes time off of work for it. We eat in the living room and shut all the windows. JD usually picks the movie; he screens and searches relentlessly to find excellent entertainment each week. We have not forced this time slot to be free but as Daniel and I have chosen not to work or engage in other obligations, we have noticed that the kids do too. It’s crazy the things they’ll opt out of on their own: “Oh, sorry, I’d love to go but we have movie night. Maybe Saturday.” (I secretly grin to myself.)

8. Journaling Journaling is actually a new way I’m communicating with the kids but it’s been so successful that I’m sharing it here. I grabbed two blank journals, and wrote one at the top of each journal. I explained that each child’s response was 100% optional and I promised no hurt feelings if they never wrote back. I did not expect their intense fascination with journal sharing. They pour their hearts out on paper and then leave it on my pillow in a little bound book. I have laughed and laughed and almost cried reading what they think about life, and love too. You should try it. But believe me when I say the hardest thing about journaling with your kids is refusing to screenshot their responses to your friends.

9. Debriefing after Events This is huge for our family. We have a lot of event traffic and travel and guests and it’s very easy for us to lose track of family life. When I was a kid I capitalized on those busy times to do exactly as I pleased and I was pretty sure Mom and Dad would never notice. Debriefing gives us a chance to see how each child is doing, if there is anything to address from the event that just happened (it’s not polite to throw and gleefully launch frogs in front of little children, even if it is fun) or soothe hurts (we are sorry you got left out of the game) or even just simply saying: “Hey. You guys were awesome hosts. Good job.”

10. Sending Children to Grandparents Everyone needs a break from each other. Training children is not a lasting assignment, but marriage is, and it’s important to cultivate your marriage. I admit feeling guilty every single time I send the kids to their grandparents (even though its only twice a year) but to fall in love again is a better gift to our children than marriage burnout while we cling to parenting 24/7/365.

11. Going Outdoors Something about being outside seems to make humanity realize that the universe does not revolve around themselves. Being exposed to the elements is sometimes gentle and sometimes harsh but it’s all directly from the hand of God, unlike being inside our carefully controlled environments. The normal everyday frustrations of family life seem to pale a little when you leave the bills on the desk and the crumbs on the floor to go hiking in a cave or fishing in a pond. Laying in the back yard on fresh cut grass eating cookies, catching lightning bugs, building a fire, watching stars come out, listening for birds. . . appreciating the world God created, together, brings an awareness that God is in control and we are not. And that’s a good thing for a family to know.

[gccparents-blog]

Building a Home Your Kids Want to Come Home To

Kindred and Grace Website

by Hayley Novak

building a home your kids want to come home to

 SHARES

I’ve always admired families who stay close after their children are grown. A boy who wants to bring his girlfriend home, girls who go shopping with their mom even after mom’s style is. . . mom-ish. Happy camaraderie and a freedom to be unique while coming back to the fold to be loved unconditionally are metaphoric blocks we are trying to build into our family structure.

Happy, healthy, close (but not clingy) grown families are so rare anymore. When I see one, I want to stop and pull up a chair and watch, like a happy movie, pressing pause at my favorite scenes and hyper-analyzing each minute detail.

I watch my neighbors in awe, Sundays set aside for their grown children to drop by. I watch the massive quantities of groceries rushed in the door in preparation, Lay’s potato chips peeking out of the grocery sacks, the smell of the grill starting, as one by one the vehicles arrive, as their kids bring their kids home. I feel like a stalker but it’s hard to tear myself away from the sweetness of a family who loves well.

But looking at the epically cool families while your little ones aren’t even sleeping through the night can be depressing: happy philosophy discussions over bowls of ice cream seem light years away.

I don’t know this for sure, but here’s what I think: take heart because happy starts now.

I don’t have a three-step plan, but we care deeply about creating a safe family. Our kids aren’t babies anymore; JD is 11, Cambria is 9 and our youngest, Eli, is 4. We are still in the thick of it. We don’t know how it will all turn out. But here are eleven things we are doing to build relationships with our kids and create a home they’ll want to visit someday.

1. Listening >Lecturing

If I want my sixteen-year-old to talk to me about life, then I must listen to my fifth grader. It is hard sometimes. I find it hard to focus. Several weeks ago JD came home from a party and sat at the counter and proceeded to download every single detail. I honestly didn’t want to hear every little bit but a warning deep in my soul stopped me from sending him to the shower. Instead, I put away dishes and listened to his happy chatter. I looked across the counter at his face, still round with boyhood, and knew in my spirit that listening mattered. Daniel told me the other day that he took JD disc golfing; he relayed, a bit shocked, that JD had kept up a running conversation with him for the entire 18 holes.

Does the talking stop for teens because parents stop listening? I don’t know yet. I only know at this stage I’m very, very tempted to stop listening: the stakes aren’t super high, the stories aren’t super interesting, I hear a lot about different kinds of pizza, jokes, and play by play description of each sporting event. But every time I start to tune out, I think of what I want in the future and tune back in.

2. Structure & Spontaneity

Children love surprises. Adults love surprises too, though we’ve conditioned ourselves well to the daily grind of life. But surprises aren’t much fun if they happen constantly. One aspect of my job as a mom right now is creating structure so that we can be spontaneous. This means bedtimes and baths and schoolwork, the rhythm of a weekend, chores and hard work. And then it means throwing it all to the wind and packing everyone up to skip school and ride the subway into Chicago to a rooftop pool Hotwire deal and see fireworks over Navy Pier and eat breakfast on Lake Michigan.

Structure + spontaneity is eating oatmeal for breakfast all week so we can eat donuts every Monday morning. It means going to bed early so they can stay up late when we have company. It means working hard so they appreciate throwing the job list in the trash and going on a hike (with snacks). Schedule makes the surprise so much sweeter; but too much schedule is just sad. Why wait for your kids to be adults to travel with them? Or eat out? No one will think going to the carwash in pajamas is cool when they’re twenty, but they’ll remember it happened and smile all over again. (I know. I was the five-year-old in pajamas watching the carwash magic. I never forgot.) Do the fun stuff. Do it now.

3. Shopping

While shopping is hardly a cross for a woman to bear, it takes time and energy and I realized with a flash one day that my daughter Cambria had been begging me to go shopping with her and I was just too busy. I love thrifting and she was looking for the glow of the mall forty minutes away. We made up a plan to shop on free Saturdays when Daniel could have Eli with him and set a date. I was stunned and humbled by how much my daughter loved doing this with me. I wanted to cry multiple times as I realized how much I’d already missed out on and what I could have missed if I didn’t listen to her. We shopped and shopped and shopped. My feet ached. She bought accessories like a diva on vacation but stuck to her budget religiously (her daddy was proud) while I succumbed to Target (her daddy was not as proud of me).

Much like listening, if I want her to know I love her and care about her need to be beautiful when she’s sixteen, I need to be involved in all those feelings now. Right now it’s the perfect color of laces for soccer cleats. I’m told a girl’s beauty needs get more complicated. I’m in it for the long haul even if it has to involve the mall.

  4. Music

Our family loves music. It’s easy to make music styles a hot button conflict as kids get older. But we are trying hard to avoid that by creating “us” music, not “me” music. In other words, we listen to all sorts of music at the kitchen counter, looking up lyrics and critiquing music styles together. This requires patience for Daniel and me (I’ve given up a lot of music that I really love because it’s not best for everyone) but it also requires patience from our kids (they often have to be flexible too).

When we listen and even play and create music together we can appreciate the art and not lapse into a me-oriented world of zoning out with headphones. One of our favorite things to do is create playlists for events and people. We have a massive library of online playlists, carefully curated and edited to fit moods and events: we have a Saturday Morning Pancakes playlist and a Beanbags playlist, not to mention Happy Birthday, Dad, School Background, JD’s Christmas Party, Mowing, Rainy/Soul, and Kick My Wednesday in Gear. My hope for the next few years is for music to draw us closer, not farther apart and give a window into the individuality of each child’s soul.

5. Open Door to Friends

When does the proverbial door open to friends? I’m not sure and I don’t want to miss the window, so our door has been open from the start of our kids being able to have relationships. It only gets more enjoyable and fun as their friends get older (and funnier and more interesting).

It is never easy to allow your home to be open. It’s not easy to teach a child how to be and have a good friend; having friends and being friendly is something taught most often by example. It’s exhausting to have toddlers over that bite each other and spill juice all over. It’s not easy to deal with hurt feelings when little girls leave each other out and it’s embarrassing if it’s your kid who is the offender. It feels weary to explain why your son can’t shoot his airsoft gun at friends without eye protection.

Sometimes it seems easier to close the door to friends, but I’m not sure anything other than temporary comfort is accomplished by that choice. Interacting with my children and their friends gives me opportunity again and again to train them, to demonstrate and teach wisdom and grace as well as speaking life and love into the extra kids in our home. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I don’t even know my children’s friends. So that means waking up now, and interacting now and swinging the door open. . . wide.

6. Patience with Trends and Styles

Children are going to become adults. It’s important as parents to guide their steps and set parameters, but there should still be a lot of room for individuality. Think carefully before you choose to die on the hill of which shoes your child wants to wear to the family reunion. This is really hard for me because I feel like our kids reflect us. We don’t want them to be rebellious but I’d rather use my influence on issues that are black and white rather than making my daughter a mini me. Our kids are just hitting the age of caring about all of this. Homeschooling doesn’t shield a child’s desperate need to fit in and feel cool! I don’t place high priority on the cool factor–in fact a very low one (“I shop at Goodwill. You can too!”)–but we don’t want to exasperate them either.

I may live to regret this, but we have found that saying something like this works: “Hey, this isn’t our favorite thing, and please don’t wear it to special events but why don’t you wear it when you are going [fill in appropriate place for trendy item].” Time and time again I see the thrill of said trendy item wear off and the child acquiesce to our family’s more classic (read: boring) style of clothing and appearance. But in the meantime we have averted multiple world wars and wounded spirits and misunderstandings.

7. Pizza Night

On Friday nights at 7 pm at our house, you will see people draw their activities to a close and show up for pizza and family movie night. We are on our second year of regularly doing this together and I have been surprised at how much everyone enjoys it. Sometimes Daniel even takes time off of work for it.

We eat in the living room and shut all the windows. JD usually picks the movie; he screens and searches relentlessly to find excellent entertainment each week. We have not forced this time slot to be free but as Daniel and I have chosen not to work or engage in other obligations, we have noticed that the kids do too. It’s crazy the things they’ll opt out of on their own: “Oh, sorry, I’d love to go but we have movie night. Maybe Saturday.” (I secretly grin to myself.)

  8. Journaling

Journaling is actually a new way I’m communicating with the kids but it’s been so successful that I’m sharing it here. I grabbed two blank journals, and wrote one at the top of each journal. I explained that each child’s response was 100% optional and I promised no hurt feelings if they never wrote back.

I did not expect their intense fascination with journal sharing. They pour their hearts out on paper and then leave it on my pillow in a little bound book. I have laughed and laughed and almost cried reading what they think about life, and love too. You should try it. But believe me when I say the hardest thing about journaling with your kids is refusing to screenshot their responses to your friends.

9. Debriefing after Events

This is huge for our family. We have a lot of event traffic and travel and guests and it’s very easy for us to lose track of family life. When I was a kid I capitalized on those busy times to do exactly as I pleased and I was pretty sure Mom and Dad would never notice.

Debriefing gives us a chance to see how each child is doing, if there is anything to address from the event that just happened (it’s not polite to throw and gleefully launch frogs in front of little children, even if it is fun) or soothe hurts (we are sorry you got left out of the game) or even just simply saying: “Hey. You guys were awesome hosts. Good job.”

10. Sending Children to Grandparents

Everyone needs a break from each other. Training children is not a lasting assignment, but marriage is, and it’s important to cultivate your marriage. I admit feeling guilty every single time I send the kids to their grandparents (even though its only twice a year) but to fall in love again is a better gift to our children than marriage burnout while we cling to parenting 24/7/365.

11. Going Outdoors

Something about being outside seems to make humanity realize that the universe does not revolve around themselves. Being exposed to the elements is sometimes gentle and sometimes harsh but it’s all directly from the hand of God, unlike being inside our carefully controlled environments. The normal everyday frustrations of family life seem to pale a little when you leave the bills on the desk and the crumbs on the floor to go hiking in a cave or fishing in a pond.

Laying in the back yard on fresh cut grass eating cookies, catching lightning bugs, building a fire, watching stars come out, listening for birds. . . appreciating the world God created, together, brings an awareness that God is in control and we are not. And that’s a good thing for a family to know.

[johnatgcc]

Building a Home Your Kids Want to Come to

Kindred and Grace Website by Hayley Novak

building a home your kids want to come home to SHARES I’ve always admired families who stay close after their children are grown. A boy who wants to bring his girlfriend home, girls who go shopping with their mom even after mom’s style is. . . mom-ish. Happy camaraderie and a freedom to be unique while coming back to the fold to be loved unconditionally are metaphoric blocks we are trying to build into our family structure. Happy, healthy, close (but not clingy) grown families are so rare anymore. When I see one, I want to stop and pull up a chair and watch, like a happy movie, pressing pause at my favorite scenes and hyper-analyzing each minute detail. I watch my neighbors in awe, Sundays set aside for their grown children to drop by. I watch the massive quantities of groceries rushed in the door in preparation, Lay’s potato chips peeking out of the grocery sacks, the smell of the grill starting, as one by one the vehicles arrive, as their kids bring their kids home. I feel like a stalker but it’s hard to tear myself away from the sweetness of a family who loves well. But looking at the epically cool families while your little ones aren’t even sleeping through the night can be depressing: happy philosophy discussions over bowls of ice cream seem light years away. I don’t know this for sure, but here’s what I think: take heart because happy starts now. I don’t have a three-step plan, but we care deeply about creating a safe family. Our kids aren’t babies anymore; JD is 11, Cambria is 9 and our youngest, Eli, is 4. We are still in the thick of it. We don’t know how it will all turn out. But here are eleven things we are doing to build relationships with our kids and create a home they’ll want to visit someday.

1. Listening >Lecturing If I want my sixteen-year-old to talk to me about life, then I must listen to my fifth grader. It is hard sometimes. I find it hard to focus. Several weeks ago JD came home from a party and sat at the counter and proceeded to download every single detail. I honestly didn’t want to hear every little bit but a warning deep in my soul stopped me from sending him to the shower. Instead, I put away dishes and listened to his happy chatter. I looked across the counter at his face, still round with boyhood, and knew in my spirit that listening mattered. Daniel told me the other day that he took JD disc golfing; he relayed, a bit shocked, that JD had kept up a running conversation with him for the entire 18 holes. Does the talking stop for teens because parents stop listening? I don’t know yet. I only know at this stage I’m very, very tempted to stop listening: the stakes aren’t super high, the stories aren’t super interesting, I hear a lot about different kinds of pizza, jokes, and play by play description of each sporting event. But every time I start to tune out, I think of what I want in the future and tune back in.

2. Structure & Spontaneity Children love surprises. Adults love surprises too, though we’ve conditioned ourselves well to the daily grind of life. But surprises aren’t much fun if they happen constantly. One aspect of my job as a mom right now is creating structure so that we can be spontaneous. This means bedtimes and baths and schoolwork, the rhythm of a weekend, chores and hard work. And then it means throwing it all to the wind and packing everyone up to skip school and ride the subway into Chicago to a rooftop pool Hotwire deal and see fireworks over Navy Pier and eat breakfast on Lake Michigan. Structure + spontaneity is eating oatmeal for breakfast all week so we can eat donuts every Monday morning. It means going to bed early so they can stay up late when we have company. It means working hard so they appreciate throwing the job list in the trash and going on a hike (with snacks). Schedule makes the surprise so much sweeter; but too much schedule is just sad. Why wait for your kids to be adults to travel with them? Or eat out? No one will think going to the carwash in pajamas is cool when they’re twenty, but they’ll remember it happened and smile all over again. (I know. I was the five-year-old in pajamas watching the carwash magic. I never forgot.) Do the fun stuff. Do it now.

3. Shopping While shopping is hardly a cross for a woman to bear, it takes time and energy and I realized with a flash one day that my daughter Cambria had been begging me to go shopping with her and I was just too busy. I love thrifting and she was looking for the glow of the mall forty minutes away. We made up a plan to shop on free Saturdays when Daniel could have Eli with him and set a date. I was stunned and humbled by how much my daughter loved doing this with me. I wanted to cry multiple times as I realized how much I’d already missed out on and what I could have missed if I didn’t listen to her. We shopped and shopped and shopped. My feet ached. She bought accessories like a diva on vacation but stuck to her budget religiously (her daddy was proud) while I succumbed to Target (her daddy was not as proud of me). Much like listening, if I want her to know I love her and care about her need to be beautiful when she’s sixteen, I need to be involved in all those feelings now. Right now it’s the perfect color of laces for soccer cleats. I’m told a girl’s beauty needs get more complicated. I’m in it for the long haul even if it has to involve the mall.

4. Music Our family loves music. It’s easy to make music styles a hot button conflict as kids get older. But we are trying hard to avoid that by creating “us” music, not “me” music. In other words, we listen to all sorts of music at the kitchen counter, looking up lyrics and critiquing music styles together. This requires patience for Daniel and me (I’ve given up a lot of music that I really love because it’s not best for everyone) but it also requires patience from our kids (they often have to be flexible too). When we listen and even play and create music together we can appreciate the art and not lapse into a me-oriented world of zoning out with headphones. One of our favorite things to do is create playlists for events and people. We have a massive library of online playlists, carefully curated and edited to fit moods and events: we have a Saturday Morning Pancakes playlist and a Beanbags playlist, not to mention Happy Birthday, Dad, School Background, JD’s Christmas Party, Mowing, Rainy/Soul, and Kick My Wednesday in Gear. My hope for the next few years is for music to draw us closer, not farther apart and give a window into the individuality of each child’s soul.

5. Open Door to Friends When does the proverbial door open to friends? I’m not sure and I don’t want to miss the window, so our door has been open from the start of our kids being able to have relationships. It only gets more enjoyable and fun as their friends get older (and funnier and more interesting). It is never easy to allow your home to be open. It’s not easy to teach a child how to be and have a good friend; having friends and being friendly is something taught most often by example. It’s exhausting to have toddlers over that bite each other and spill juice all over. It’s not easy to deal with hurt feelings when little girls leave each other out and it’s embarrassing if it’s your kid who is the offender. It feels weary to explain why your son can’t shoot his airsoft gun at friends without eye protection. Sometimes it seems easier to close the door to friends, but I’m not sure anything other than temporary comfort is accomplished by that choice. Interacting with my children and their friends gives me opportunity again and again to train them, to demonstrate and teach wisdom and grace as well as speaking life and love into the extra kids in our home. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I don’t even know my children’s friends. So that means waking up now, and interacting now and swinging the door open. . . wide.

6. Patience with Trends and Styles Children are going to become adults. It’s important as parents to guide their steps and set parameters, but there should still be a lot of room for individuality. Think carefully before you choose to die on the hill of which shoes your child wants to wear to the family reunion. This is really hard for me because I feel like our kids reflect us. We don’t want them to be rebellious but I’d rather use my influence on issues that are black and white rather than making my daughter a mini me. Our kids are just hitting the age of caring about all of this. Homeschooling doesn’t shield a child’s desperate need to fit in and feel cool! I don’t place high priority on the cool factor–in fact a very low one (“I shop at Goodwill. You can too!”)–but we don’t want to exasperate them either. I may live to regret this, but we have found that saying something like this works: “Hey, this isn’t our favorite thing, and please don’t wear it to special events but why don’t you wear it when you are going [fill in appropriate place for trendy item].” Time and time again I see the thrill of said trendy item wear off and the child acquiesce to our family’s more classic (read: boring) style of clothing and appearance. But in the meantime we have averted multiple world wars and wounded spirits and misunderstandings.

7. Pizza Night On Friday nights at 7 pm at our house, you will see people draw their activities to a close and show up for pizza and family movie night. We are on our second year of regularly doing this together and I have been surprised at how much everyone enjoys it. Sometimes Daniel even takes time off of work for it. We eat in the living room and shut all the windows. JD usually picks the movie; he screens and searches relentlessly to find excellent entertainment each week. We have not forced this time slot to be free but as Daniel and I have chosen not to work or engage in other obligations, we have noticed that the kids do too. It’s crazy the things they’ll opt out of on their own: “Oh, sorry, I’d love to go but we have movie night. Maybe Saturday.” (I secretly grin to myself.)

8. Journaling Journaling is actually a new way I’m communicating with the kids but it’s been so successful that I’m sharing it here. I grabbed two blank journals, and wrote one at the top of each journal. I explained that each child’s response was 100% optional and I promised no hurt feelings if they never wrote back. I did not expect their intense fascination with journal sharing. They pour their hearts out on paper and then leave it on my pillow in a little bound book. I have laughed and laughed and almost cried reading what they think about life, and love too. You should try it. But believe me when I say the hardest thing about journaling with your kids is refusing to screenshot their responses to your friends.

9. Debriefing after Events This is huge for our family. We have a lot of event traffic and travel and guests and it’s very easy for us to lose track of family life. When I was a kid I capitalized on those busy times to do exactly as I pleased and I was pretty sure Mom and Dad would never notice. Debriefing gives us a chance to see how each child is doing, if there is anything to address from the event that just happened (it’s not polite to throw and gleefully launch frogs in front of little children, even if it is fun) or soothe hurts (we are sorry you got left out of the game) or even just simply saying: “Hey. You guys were awesome hosts. Good job.”

10. Sending Children to Grandparents Everyone needs a break from each other. Training children is not a lasting assignment, but marriage is, and it’s important to cultivate your marriage. I admit feeling guilty every single time I send the kids to their grandparents (even though its only twice a year) but to fall in love again is a better gift to our children than marriage burnout while we cling to parenting 24/7/365.

11. Going Outdoors Something about being outside seems to make humanity realize that the universe does not revolve around themselves. Being exposed to the elements is sometimes gentle and sometimes harsh but it’s all directly from the hand of God, unlike being inside our carefully controlled environments. The normal everyday frustrations of family life seem to pale a little when you leave the bills on the desk and the crumbs on the floor to go hiking in a cave or fishing in a pond. Laying in the back yard on fresh cut grass eating cookies, catching lightning bugs, building a fire, watching stars come out, listening for birds. . . appreciating the world God created, together, brings an awareness that God is in control and we are not. And that’s a good thing for a family to know.

[maverick-gone-home]

Six Crows-Chapter One, Part Three

Two dudes, one bed, and a crap ton of monsters that aren’t that bad.

Warnings:

Swearing

No Cannon Characters (All I did was use the show as a basis and wrote the story in the show’s universe, but it doesn’t really touch the show’s characters at all. Crowley was there for a few lines though.) 

Cannon Typical Violence

Start here to read it on Tumblr

Start here to read it on Archive of Our Own

They found themselves outside a large parking garage, the entrance blocked off with police tape and a pair of police guards. Elijah walked swiftly towards them, Vincent jogging slightly to keep up with Eli's swift pace.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stay on the outside of the yellow tape," one of the officers stepped forward to stop Eli and Vincent at the tape.

"I'm a consultant; Police Captain Nicolson called me in," Elijah answered, stopping at the tape. The officer who had asked him to stay behind the tape eyed him suspiciously.

"Right... Jerry you ever heard of Nicolson calling in a consultant to a crime scene?"

"Only some stories 'bout a guy who would solve the weird cases for 'em. The ones where people would be completely mauled with their hearts or throats missing. Stuff like that." Eli sighed.

"Could you just call him up and tell him we're here so he can give us clearance."

The officer who had spoken to Eli first pulled his radio from his chest. "You two got names?"

"I'm Elijah and this is Vincent." The officer nodded, pressed a button, and began to speak.

"Nicolson, I've got two guys up here named Elijah and Vincent saying you called them here as consultants. Can I let them in? Over." The officer lifted his finger from the button. "Now let's see if your little story is-" he was cut off by a crackling through the speaker of his radio.

"Already? That was quick. Send 'em down here. Over." Elijah smiled, lifting the police tape for Vincent to walk under before going under himself.

"It was nice to meet you boys; crime scene's on the bottom level?" Elijah asked once on the other side of the tape.

"Uh, yeah," Jerry stuttered out. Elijah nodded and both he and Vincent made there way to the elevator. The officers watched them as they left, the officer who had spoken on the radio called in that they were on their way down.

"You think those are the guys they use on the weird cases?" Jerry asked as he returned to his station.

"Why do you even listen to those stories?"

Jerry looked to the other officer. "But what if they were. I mean, did you see the bodies? Mikey said they had huge chunks out of 'em like something had been eating them. This is a city, Frank! We don't have anything that could do that."

Frank shook his head. "You're getting yourself worked up over nothing. Mikey tells all those stories to the rookies."

Jerry went back to facing forward towards the outside. "Sure."

Meanwhile, Vincent and Elijah were exiting the elevator. Vincent inhaled deeply before coughing, almost gagging.

"Oh that smells nasty," he covered his nose, his eyes watering.

Elijah pulled the collar of his coat over his nose and muttered, "Tell me about."

They were greeted by Nicolson who gave them both a surgical mask to cover their mouth and nose, plastic gloves, and shoe covers. Nicolson was a graying man, though he still kept his full head of hair with him. He had a small scar under his left eye that he had gotten when he first joined the force, and subsequently when he had met Elijah for the first time. They had been working in tandem for years on cases that would have gone cold if Elijah hadn't been called in.

"Here are the stiffs; they're gonna be brought to the morgue soon, but I thought it would make your job easier if I let you look at them while they were still at the crime scene," Nicolson stated as peopled mulled about the scene, some taking pictures and others swabbing, sweeping, or examining.

"When did you find them?" Elijah asked, peeking over a person to get a better look at one of the two victims.

"Witness says that he had been hearing weird noises for a few days and that he eventually thought there were just some junkies so he called the owner. Owner came down to take a look, got hit by the smell, and found the bodies soon after. That's when we got the call and when the owner closed down the garage."

"They've been dead for three days at least, but something a lot bigger than a rat has been feeding on those bodies from what I can tell," Vincent added. Elijah nodded.

"Have you figured out who they are?" Elijah asked as he turned his back from the crime scene.

"Brother and sister who went missing from the area about a week ago, but the weird part is that the parents called us yesterday to say they had called to say they were out in Ohio and not to look for 'em. The couple said that the number wasn't displayed so the dad left for Ohio this morning to start looking there. I just had someone call the mother to have her try to identify the bodies, but they did have ID on them saying who they were," Nicolson finished cluing the pair in on the grim situation that seemed unable to phase Elijah while Vincent only seemed bothered by the smell.

"Well, Nicolson, this does seem to be up our alley," Elijah smiled under the mask and clasped his gloved hands together, "I'll get you a dead rabid dog for cover up and I'll take care of the real thing, just like all the other cases you call me in for." The tone of Elijah's voice was hushed as he spoke of the deal. "I'll tell you when it's been taken care of."

Elijah and Vincent shook hands with the captain and left the scene in the elevator.

It was quiet in the elevator as they both removed the gloves, masks, and shoe covers.

"Man, did it stink of ghoul in there," Vincent inhaled deeply of the cleaner air of the elevator before sniffing his clothes, a grimace covering his face as he recoiled from the clothes. "And I just took a shower too," he added in a sad mumble.

"At least we know what we need to look for. I'll have Skinwalker patrols upped around this area to look for any unfamiliar ghouls. Hey, who do you think I should ask for a dog?"

"Crowley, definitely," Vincent commented as he sniffed his clothes again, the same expression coming over his face. "That demon could get a rabid dog in a heartbeat and from what I remember, he owes you a favor."

Eli nodded, "I'll make some calls when we get back." They exited the elevator together, throwing the masks, shoe covers, and gloves into a nearby waste bin before making their way towards the exit. "By the way," Eli began as he shoved his hands into his pocket, though he abandoned the idea when he realized he still had the metal glove in his pocket and that it was much too bulky for him to comfortably rest his hand in the pocket, "Can you call Roy and tell him that the pack life wasn't really working for you and that you'll be moving in with me? I already called him today to tell him I demoted Sean and breaking more 'bad' news to him could end with me eaten by a pack of Skinwalkers."

Vincent scoffed, ducking under the tape and lifting it for Eli, "Like you couldn't fight them off."

"You couldn't," Elijah added as they made their way down the sidewalk, "And if I was them, I'd go for pressure points first."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "How smart do you think Skinwalker's are?" His voice was laced with a familiar sarcasm.

"You're pretty smart." Vincent shook his head with a sigh as he rolled his eyes again.

"What am I going to do with you?" A wicked grin crept its way across Elijah's face, Vincent seeing it from the corner of his eye and already knowing what it meant. "Don't you even-"

"You can do anything you want with me."

"You're a jerk and I might have to punch you in the face for that."

"Remember the last time you tried to punch me in the face?" Eli asked as they rounded a corner, Eli leading the way.

Vincent rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, chuckling slightly as he reminisced on some memory. "Yeah," he stuck his hands back into the pockets of his jeans, "I think I broke my hand when I did that." They both laughed.

"Do you want to actually walk home for once?" Elijah asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I don't think we've ever actually done that for anything other than the diner." A smile glowed from Vincent's face. They were enjoying themselves as they would when Vincent would stay late, even after Eli had said that he could go home. Vincent had never felt more at home in Manhattan as when he was be Eli's side, though. Not when he slept in his room at the compound, which was drafty and dull, or when he spent time with the other Skinwalkers. His home was with Elijah, and he was glad he had an excuse to come back.

[axiom-of-man-blog]

Chapter 2 Year 15 PDE (Pre-Dawn of Eminence)

Come my way and hurry along I’ll take you soaring with the angels and gods Leave your prison chains on the wall You’ll live forever and you’ll never fall -The Teeth of Sea & Beast

  Tennessee is a state of stagnate morals and aspirations, snake handlers and haunted mountains.  Ages ago the mountains were aglow with mines and stills, in the business of finding material wealth or liquid salvation.  Of course many men died in these mines to fill the greed of the men who owned them.  A mine would collapse with everyone buried within a tomb of desires and desperation. Instead of rescuing these people the owner would just pick up shop and burrow somewhere else into the heart of the mountains. When this industry dried up, in the mountains many towns were abandoned after being stricken with poverty. The god fearing south blamed the north the loss of the souths virtue, the loss of their ideals. In a world where Men are marrying men, women are leading the great free world, and god is being pushed out of schools. In this land of phantoms that wallows in gods shadow I feed my vice of adventure.  The mines are what interested me; many of the mines were abandoned and were not closed properly. These are a hazard to society with random sink holes and the occasional dumb-ass wandering in, getting lost and suffocating from the fumes. In a world where there is nothing undiscovered the only adventure is to rediscover, and uncover things hidden. I am fawning for anything to happen. Living at the campus as an RA has its benefits. Free living, being able to boss around my peers about their dorms, confiscates alcohol and drugs. Excitement in the summer is something it’s lacking.  Eli, my roommate shares my interest in exploration and getting out of this prestigious mire.  He mentioned his grandfather would tell ghost stories about a mine near his old home in a town south east of Tellico Plains: Serendipity. The Serendipity mine was closed by a new owner; who laid off all the miners.  The families left, their lively hood pulled out from under their feet, there was nothing left for them. His grandfather, the youngest son of one of those miners relayed stories his father told. “The reason people left wasn’t because of the mine closing, it was because the woods became sour.  Things lurked in the night, and people disappeared, children taken from their beds. People who went to the mine never returned. The people who had enough sense to leave early are the only ones who didn’t go missing. Anyone else who ever happened upon the mine could hear the screams of their tortured souls coming from the ground.” The old man obviously liked to scare his son, an atavism that he passed down all the way to Eli. Eli, Who being African American had mixed feelings about the south but a Haunted abandoned mine? He was all in. Like me he loved the mystery. I at this point would take any excuse to leave this place. I have grown tired of the lectures on robotics, ethics, and forecasting the future of tech. This was more than enough to draw me in; the only problem is with no one ever going around the place for more than a hundred years is it isn’t on any map. Although The Town we managed to find via a scan of an old map offered online; far easier than we thought.   The town lies about 2 miles off of a road by the bald river falls east of Tellico plains. There are some roads that go nearby and we would have to hoof it from there. Since there are no real trails heading towards the area. We came prepared for the amazon. Backpacks, A couple hammock tents, machetes, GPS and a day or two worth of supplies.  So now, after spending what felt like days in the car driving from my dorm at MIT we find ourselves in another country entirely. People are driving vehicles that have no business being on the road. They are held together with scarps, tape and prayer. With  the amount of black smoke coming from  some of their the exhaust it’s no wonder the ice caps are almost gone. Large Crosses were along major road ways. Churches were nestled in every town so many I could easily lose count. Signs outside declaring “ God Hates Fags”  and other Neanderthal rhetoric.  The air so thick with humidity it was palpable, it’s as oppressive as our walk through a promised land of an unfamiliar doctrine. The heaviness of the god fearing people let up when we made it to Tellico Plains. It was still humming in the background; a tinnitus of a laconic God glowering at our sins, despite being very touristy.  We found a lodge on a road through the mountains fairly close to our get off point. At least here my silver Audi doesn’t feel so out of place amongst the other tourist. The lodge was a beautiful log cabin building filled with the rustic appeal of a pottery barn. A gilded look at the pathos of the dark south.

  The night is restless, Eli fiddles with his camera making sure we will be able to capture the whole thing and put it on his blog.

“Hey man, think there is anything even left there?” I ask

“I don’t know Jason… hundred years is a long time and this humidity would rot anything.” Eli said

He lays back on his bed.

“We should be able to find some foundations.. or stuff like that. The mine will be the hard part.

“Maybe we should look at a topographic of that area maybe that will-.”

“Nope already did, I have a few ideas where it could be but nothing solid.” He said. We think in silence for a moment. I could tell the gears were working…  

“I even looked on urban exploration forums, there is abandoned shit all over these mountains… It’s like no one ever comes to this area.”

“Maybe they know better” I say reflecting on the stories he has told me.

“Jason… really? I know the stories creeped me out when I was like 8. But you can’t think there is anything to them.” He states with a dismissive laugh. He waves his hands as if shoeing away the thought.

“Who knows it may not be monsters or ghost but just a bitch to get to.”  I say as I roll over and With that I drift off to a deep dreamless sleep lulled by the air conditioner.

We awake the next morning. The dread of the previous day has been washed away and we embark early in the morning.

“Shit… Jason it’s not even 8 and it’s in the fucking 80s…”

“Welcome to the Great Smoky mountains boys!”

We both turn to see an elderly man walking towards us. Despite the heat he is wearing jeans and a button up shirt buttoned to the wrist.  

“Uh hi” I say awkwardly.

“Not from around here obviously” He frowns at Eli “My name is Manny…”

I shake his extended hand that he only offered to me “Hi Manny, uh, do you know anything about these woods here there doesn’t seem to be any trails south..”

“Oh couldn’t tell you why, probably not prime hiking areas out there.” He says looking into the woods. “Well you boys have fun and stay safe… and hydrated!” “We have some large water bottles in the gift shop if you need any” He waves beckoning us as he walks.

“Bastard wouldn’t even look at me” Eli say annoyed.

“Sorry man, even tan I can pass for Italian or Greek or some shit.”

“Yeah yeah yeah… lets go Paco.”

He half smirks at me as he walks to the car.

We drive to the point that’s closest as far as we can tell to the remains of the town.  We park on the side of the road put on our back packs, spray each other down with sunscreen and start walking following a waypoint on the GPS we brought. Despite there not being a path it wasn’t hard walking in most spots. The woods here were all old growth tall as buildings and trunks wider than the span of our arms.  

We were the loudest things in the woods, clumsily stomping snapping branches crushing leaves our packs adding extra weight and some of the contents rattling.  

There was a shift at some point during the hike, the air went from sweltering and viscous to dry and cool, the light seemed to go dim as if in a perpetual state of twilight. The woods became muted, our footsteps echoed as if we were walking a grand empty hall. I stopped and felt as if we are trespassing, that we are walking through a sacred place and judging eyes are all around; ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Eli is too busy working with the map he printed off and the GPS trying to figure out our exact location.  The mountains were messing with the signal; we were chasing a waypoint that was hopping around sending us in different directions.  

“Hmmm we should be getting close”  Eli says to more himself than me.

I notice a break in the trees up past Eli and walk towards it, noticing as I get closer the silence becomes more whole like being plunged into water.  Eli follows me without saying anything and we come to a small glade. Its spherical  with the largest willow tree I have ever seen the trunk thicker than the span of my arms and the branches spreading out  like the tentacles of a giant ancient beast. The tree choked out the light and oppressively allowed nothing to grow underneath its thick canopy besides a layer of damp moss. We walked into the shade in a reverent unspoken hush.  It seemed we walked into a complete vacuum as we approached the tree we noticed it was growing up around a large cairn on the far side. As we approached we felt as if the air was being sucked into the tree. All I could do was stand and stare. The hair stood up on my neck and my blood turned cold as I looked down at my feet and noticed something white and brittle poking up through the moss. I knelt down and picked at it with my finger until the moss gave way and I pulled up half a skull of a small animal. It was cold to the touch as I looked around I noticed more bones peeking through the moss under the tree. A natural ossuary of sorts, what could have done this? An animals feeding ground perhaps?

“Holy shit, I think I found it!” Eli shouted, severing my thoughts. I dropped the skull and ran to him as I went around the tree and saw the full breadth of the cairn. It is a large slab rock leaning on a pile of large rocks stabilized by a wooden frame.  The wood looks old, but sturdy. As we approached I noticed the wood hardly looks like it has rotted at all.  As we stood before the small opening, we could feel the air rushing through us and into the hole in the ground. With a snap the entrance was illuminated with Eli’s flashlight, I turn mine on too and we start our decent.  We walk carefully trying not to fall and slip on the damp rocks trying not to hit our heads on the wooden frames holding up the earth.

“This is so spooky” Eli’s voice reverberates down the shaft.   Our footsteps pierce the silence and echo all around us as if there are dozens of people walking along with us, the wind rushing in mimicked the sound of voices. A caravan of whispering shadows following us into the cold stone womb. I barely noticed Eli stopping until I nearly bumped into him. I looked past him to see he was staring at a wooden door. It was out of place, it looked solid oak, intricately carved symbols, lines interconnecting them to a large carved stone in the center with what looks like a pentagram surrounded by other shapes.. The stone was a polished black glass almost mirrored; we could make out our reflections which looked odd. It didn’t dawn on me at first why. Eli tries the knob as I stare into the glass.  I realized that the image wasn’t inverted, and the movements trailed moments after mine. A dark mime: mocking me from a window to an unnamed world.

“The door is stuck… But it’s not locked.” He said fondling the knob.

“Maybe we should leave… I don’t think this—“

“Got it!” He says as the door slowly creeks open, fighting the rust that built up over the years. The heavy door opened of its’ own volition free of either of our hands. We both just stared. The room, lavish interior was even more out of place than the door the room was large. The walls lined with shelves filled with books. A small bed, fit for a child was at one end of the room and a table with chairs at the other.  We entered slowly, waving our flashlights looking at the time capsule we walked in to. I walked to another door at the edge of the room and opened it, another old door. I don’t know what to expect, but as it opened I was relieved and disappointed to see some barrels and shelves with jars, and some dried fruits and vegetables hung in the back in netted sacks. Eli is looking at the books when we hear a noise; A gasp. We both turned, looking at the bed as a small figure started to rise.  So slight we didn’t notice it laying there.  As it rose its limbs popped and creaked like twigs snapping. It was a person… of a sort small and skinny the size of a child. Its skin was pale and grey coved in scars its head bald. Its head hung looking down it raised its hand to shield against the light.

“Puh-lease” It groaned the words almost scraped as they came out of its throat. “Extinguish... your torches.” In awe we turned off our lights. The shroud of darkness covered us. All we could hear was our breathing, until we heard its movements. Then a warm light erupted from an old oil lamp. The flamed danced in the darkness causing the shadows to leap and jump across the walls. Half of its body was illuminated with the warm light. Its head rose and looked at us. Its eyes black. No whites at all, like two voids to an abyss. It started to smile. It spoke slowly. “Greetings… Gentlemen.”

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