#oh its 3pm and i have been working in the yard all day and not eaten a single goddamn thing

[freelanceplatypus]

Literally was on the verge of crying but now I'm sitting on the patio in the warm sun eating a chicken sandwich and like...it's going to be okay.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 6 October 1837

8 ¼

11 20

much rain in the night and this morning till after 8 then fair – high wind – sun and F70° at 9 20 and breakfast – no! had Mr. Jackson from Duncan the tailor with patterns of cloth for grooms’ suit for George – ordered to be 4 guineas + breeches strapping – clothes to be sent home on Wednesday night, and cloth of the same price to be kept for footmans’ dress and undress suit – breakfast (A- sat by me) at 9 ¾ in 25 minutes then off with A- at 10 ¼ and walked with her to Cliff Hill – there at 11 20 sauntered about there 5 minutes and then set off back again – somewhile at Hipperholme quarry – a shower while there and rain began before I got to Mytholm – took shelter at Hannah Greens’, and again in the doorway of Listeriwck E.P. cabin home at 1 20 – Holt just come but kept him waiting till I opened note from A- enclosing key of her bureau and sofa table-drawer – to send her back the letter that came last night for her aunt Mrs. W. H. Rawson sent back the letter – then with Holt till 2 10 talking over colliery concerns – and then walked with him (Joseph Mann came to us at Listerwick pit) to set out the new engine pit – Cliff the engine-maker from Huddersfield to come and look at the place tomorrow about 10 pm – H- thinks 2 [?] inch

SH:7/ML/E/20/0140

bore pumps are sure to lift the water .:. an engine that will work these is wanted – I said I thought 10 horse power would be enough – would write and ask Mr. Harper perhaps tonight or tomorrow basis to be an 8ft. and 12 strokes per minute – H- thought the engine might work till the Incline was finished and then rest – let the water rise in the EP. and run over into Long goit – 700 yards back would spend the level – JM. afterwards said 600 yards would do it – the water would be dammed back as far as Charles Howarths’ and the water head going in a line from there to about ½ between Tilly holme stile and Redbeck houses we should have no more coal loose than I had to get up to that line – I thought that would be 25 acres at least which at 5 acre per annum would save expense of engine 5 years = about £1000 – must keep the engine going till the Incline was finished for the water would rise in Listerwick pit and we must have vent from there and if we could not have vent from there the engine must be [put] at work I proposed a chimney down upon the head of the Incline no! this would produce more water to pump by letting in fresh springs – then it just occurs to me, we could drive a communication from our vent gate into Listerwick above the rise of the water – I had told H- I thought we could get some upper bed immediately without pheying in the old works – yes! and JM. also agreed to this on my explaining that ½ of the 2 Pumpfields in front of the house must be ungot – H- sells at 7 1/2d. per load (upper bed) on the top of Swales moor – Samuel Holdsworth and Wilson sell at 7d. but the bar makes a 1/2d. per load difference – surely then my upper bed is worth as much as Holts’ or more – JM. thinks we may sell it at 8d. this winter – H- pays 3d. per load getting – when pulled at Listerwick pit 1d. per load will pull and bank them (1 1/2d. per load till then) – Suppose I can clear 3 1/2d. per load and 1 collier gets 100 loads per week .:. 100 x 3 1/2d. = 29/2. and I can keep 3 colliers going 29/2 x 3 = £4.7.6 H- said they would clear £4 per week – if the engine to stand till all the coal got up to Charles Howarths’ then the 2 gates from P.E.P. to LIsterwick need only be common gates – will be wet driving – say 4/6 per yard then the 2 gates together = 9/. per yard and suppose each driven 2 yards wide (so as to allow of burying the scale) then there will be 4 yards breadth of coal go t= suppose 20 loads (low bed at 9d.) = 10 x 9 = 15/. but 18 loads at 9d. = 13/6 .:. there would be 4/6 (2/6 per on each gate) per running yard on the 2 gates (800 yards long) .:. 4/6 x 800 = £180 gained on the 2 gates for I have rails enough to do them – the engine (as soon as the Incline is completed, to be set up there) – whoever gets the job is to be bound in a hundred pounds penalty to have it in going order by xmas – Holt and Thomas have undertaken many small engines but never get them done in time – Holt left me on the ground about 3pm – walked back with JM. explained my ideas about the road by the brook side thro’ Mytholm Ing – JM. to level for the intended road – home before 4 – out about – had Mawson – Townend vexed not to have had the horses for £30. has reported that he means to indite Mawson for horse-dealing and make him pay the penalty = £14 – advised M- to care nothing about it – but let the man do as he choose – it would do him no good even if he did make M- pay the penalty which he would perhaps find a difficult matter – on getting home before 4 went into the garden, and on coming from there met Womersley coming from the hall – he has seen Messrs. Mitchell and Hall – the latter would consult his attorney and M- proposed selling the horse by auction and that he and H- and I should share the loss – I said I did not see what M- or I has to do with the loss – M- would not consent to my having [?] to the horse – so I said I saw no other way but to return the horse and let M- and H- settle it as they best could – SW. had had a horse returned – perhaps I might get him to manage the matter for me – while speaking to Mawson after 5pm George came to ask me to look at the bay pony he had brought from Wakefield not so tall as the chesnut ponies, nor near so much bone – a slight thing fit only for a child – certainly not fit for A- aetatis 4 instead of 6 – worth from £12 to 15 instead of £23 I just muttered that the blind horse (Felix if he should be blind) was worth a hundred of him – yes! said George – raining – ordered the Hoogly (market cart) and off with John at 6 5 for A- unluckily went by the Lodge – missed her – returned by the old road and back in 25 minutes – I disappointed about the pony – A- ditto too much so to talk about it, and left me and went downstairs – wettish – dressed – went into the cellar (as yesterday [?]) – 1 marsala – the cellar doors had been [?] with white paint by Mr. Haylands’ man today – dinner at 7 10 coffee – read the paper – A- came upstairs at 9 20 and I a few minutes afterwards but came direct to my room and till 10 25 wrote the whole of today – fine day till about (before) noon – afterwards showery damp disagreeable afternoon and evening – F51* at 9 ½ pm – asked Mawson what he would wear (bur wall) the brook for in Mytham Ing – he had 2/.per road for the brook waring against the meer – but better carting to Mytham Ing would do that at 1/9 per road of 1 yards high – I said 10. parts might have to be 2 yards high – mentioned that I wanted to lay the pit scale alongside it so as to form a road – Mr. Parker passed as I was leaving Hipperholme quarry briefly explained that I would have nothing to do with buying coaches of Mr. C- the hotel might take its chance – said I had sent Mr. Harper to him (P-) but he had not found him or Mr.Adam – P- would advertise again – I briefly explained about C- but said I would not let him the place for less than £400 a year I would sooner break it up – P- just said ‘oh! you will get your price’ we parted – going to a road meeting of the Elland and Brighouse road – nothing to be paid on the Denholm gate road – expected something on the Wakefield road this midsummer but nothing had been paid

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 1

cruel summer masterlist

AN: It’s here. Idk what the posting schedule will be like, I have no idea what my writing schedule will be like, but... I think it’s gonna be 25ish chapters? Maybe? Who knows. It’s gonna be fun, I think. I hope. Looking forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts. Alright... without further ado...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rowan Whitethorn is having a really horrible day. Not just the kind of bad that he can shrug off, but the kind that seeps through his skin and sinks into his bones, that permeates even the smallest thing, turning everything into a giant annoyance.

First, he missed his alarm, so his grumpy manager, Lorcan, has been even grumpier with him since he pulled through the gates of Ashryver Playland this morning. The amusement park job is less than ideal. Rowan hadn’t planned for his summer to be taking tickets and cleaning up melted ice cream cones from sweaty-faced teens – but it was the only place that called him back, and he doesn’t come from the type of family that can afford to pay his rent. So unless Rowan had wanted to spend the summer in his mom’s unairconditioned apartment, dodging set ups with her mahjong circle’s daughters, this was his only option.

It's nearly 3PM, and Rowan still hasn’t been able to take his lunch break. He knows that’s adding to his bad attitude. Rowan has a tendency to get hangry, or so his coworker Fenrys tells him. And because he was in a rush this morning, he forgot to pack his lunch. Which means he’ll have to spend money buying overpriced crap at the park.

Rowan’s also on trash duty today. Which means he gets to spend the whole day circling the park grounds with a giant broom and pan and pick up the fallen bits of funnel cake and popcorn and soda cups and dump them into the closest trash. Then, once those are full, he gets to haul the heavy bags of stinking trash all the way to the back of the park where the dumpsters are. It’s pretty much his worst nightmare. Though Rowan isn’t opposed to physical activity, he’s not super fond of smelling like rancid garbage. He tugs at the collar of the too tight uniform polo shirt stretching uncomfortably across his chest and frowns. After a bag split all over him earlier, Rowan was forced to go diving in the employee lost and found for another uniform. Apparently, the only person who’s missing a shirt is two times smaller than him. He sniffs himself and nearly gags. He can’t wait to get home and shower. He look at his watch … in … five more hours.

“Whitethorn,” Lorcan calls, crossing across the yard at him. “Take your thirty now. Then you’re taking over for Connall at the ferris wheel ‘til closing, yeah?”

Rowan barely contains a shudder upon hearing his new assignment. He hates trash, but working the ferris wheel is somehow worse. He didn’t realize until last week that’s where every middle schooler goes on their first make out date. He’s had to pull too many kids off the ride, feeling like their disapproving father as he pulled their clashing braces apart to make room for the next patrons in line. Frankly, he finds PDA disgusting. And the sight of thirteen-year-olds going at it is enough to scar him for life.

At least Rowan finally gets to eat something, though. The oppressive mid-day heat combined with hours of physical labor and no fuel has him feeling like he could keel over any second. He grunts his acknowledgement at Lorcan and makes his way to the closest concessions stand, which luckily has barely a line – I guess since it’s 3 fucking PM and not actually lunch time. Rowan is about to step forward when he feels tiny fingers poke against the back of his knees. He’s about to snap at whatever parent to keep their kid on a tighter leash when he realizes there is no parent, just a kid – and the kid is, in fact, trying to get his attention.

“Um, excuse me? Sir?” the little boy says. Rowan’s never been a sir before. He hates it.

“Yeah?”

“I think I lost my family,” he says resolutely, not sounding even a little bit scared. “Can you help me find them?”

Rowan’s stomach grumbles and his head pounds. He knows he has to return this child to his family, but he also knows he needs to eat immediately or he’s going to lose it.

“We can absolutely do that,” Rowan begins, “but I haven’t eaten all day. Do you think you can wait like… ten minutes?”

The little boy nods and sticks out his hand. “I’m Gavin and I’m five.”

“Hey, Gavin. I’m Rowan and I’m hungry.” Gavin giggles at that, and Rowan finally cracks a smile and shakes the boy’s hand.

Rowan steps up to order, thinking about what’s going to be the fastest, since his thirty minute break is going to include an unforeseen detour to security at the entryway of the park. “Can I get a hot dog, a pretzel, a cherry coke and…” He looks at the little boy next to him. “Anything for you?”

Gavin’s eyes widen with glee. “Cotton candy?!”

“…and a cotton candy.”

Rowan reluctantly hands over a $20, saying goodbye to three hours of hard work. But he has no choice. They get their food and make their way to the eating tent. Rowan keeps his eyes open for anyone looking panicked or in search of a child, but he doesn’t see anyone who fits the bill.

Rowan inhales his hot dog in record speed and takes a giant gulp of his cherry coke and immediately feels better. Sitting under the shade of the tent helps, too. The pair sit quietly and eat their food. Gavin swings his legs happily as he peels off pieces of his cotton candy, licking the sticky sugar from his fingers.

“So…” Rowan has no idea how to talk to a kid, but he figures he should ask him a few questions to figure out who to return him to, at least. “Who are you here with today? You said your family?”

Gavin nods excitedly, the sugar clearly starting to make its way through his tiny body. “Yup! My whole family is here today. My mom, my dad, Auntie Ae, Nana and Grandpa.”

“Wow.” Rowan’s heart tugs slightly. “That’s fun. Any special occasion?”

“Nope. We come every week,” Gavin says.

“Every week?” Rowan asks, his voice rising in pitch. He’s trying to do the math of the ticket prices. $30 for six family members. That’s $180. For every week of the summer…? Rowan’s mental math skills stop there, but he knows that’s a LOT more than he’s ever been able to casually throw down.

“Yup. Since I was a baby,” Gavin says. “It’s my family’s special place.”

“Think your family would adopt me?” Rowan jokes. He loves his mom a lot, and she did the absolute best job raising him, but they’ve never had a special place. His mom thinks adding guacamole to her Chipotle bowl is special. Not that Rowan disagrees. Guacamole is a perfect condiment.

Gavin finishes his last lick of cotton candy and holds his red hands up at Rowan. “I’m sticky.”

Rowan shoves the final bite of his pretzel into his mouth and stands up. “Me too. Let’s go wash our hands and then find your family. Sound good?”

Gavin nods, skipping next to Rowan, his little shoes lighting up as he matches the striding pace. They make their way to the row of porta-potties and outdoor sinks, which line the side of the park. As Rowan washes his hands, he notices Gavin struggling to reach the stream of water. Of course. He’s only five.

“Need a hand?” Rowan asks, and Gavin nods, holding his arms up to be lifted. Rowan’s arms burn, since he’s been picking up giant bags of trash all day, but he manages to keep Gavin mid-air until he’s finished cleaning the sugary crystals from his hands. He’s putting Gavin back on the ground when he hears a loud voice shrieking behind him –

“YOU! SIR, STEP AWAY FROM THE CHILD!”

Damn it.

Rowan sighs and turns, letting his hold on Gavin drop completely. This is so not what he needs right now.

“Gavin, honey, come here,” the voice calls again.

Rowan searches to see who the voice belongs to and is momentarily stunned. Gavin’s mom is… young. And hot. Her golden blonde hair is swept away from her face in a high ponytail, resting softly down her bare back, on display in a strappy yellow tank top. And her jean shorts show off her long, tanned legs. Rowan stares a beat too long because the next thing he hears is, “Gavin, earmuffs,” and suddenly the blonde woman is inches away from him, in his face and pushing at his chest with her pointed finger. She is mad.

“Stay away from this little boy, you pervert!” The woman’s eyes flare angrily as she pushes Rowan’s chest again forcefully with her finger, and he is not having any of that. He grabs her finger in his large fist and moves it away from him, making the woman stumble back slightly. Her mouth widens into a small circle as she looks up at the man grabbing her finger.

“I’m sorry, pervert?” He chuckles humorlessly. “This little boy asked for my help finding his irresponsible family. Who lost him. I work here.” Rowan uses his other hand to point to the stupid logo on the corner of his polo. “He happened to find me on my lunch break. Maybe if you’d been a more responsible mother you wouldn’t feel the need to get this worked up the guy who was clearly about to take your kid to security.”

“Mom?” the woman says, horrified and snatches back her finger. “Oh my god.” Her demeanor shifts entirely as she looks to Gavin and motions for him to uncover his ears. “Gavin, please tell this very rude man that I am way too young and cool to be your mom.”

Gavin frowns. “I don’t think he’s rude, Auntie Ae. He gave me cotton candy.”

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up in accusation. ‘You gave him cotton candy? You’re only proving my point.”

Rowan puffs out his chest defensively. “I’m sorry, is cotton candy a sex offender favorite? I wouldn’t know.”

“You clearly offered sweets to a child to lure him away from his family!” she says way too loudly, looking around and making a show of her statement.

“Quiet down!” Rowan snipes through gritted teeth. “I need to keep this job, for fuck’s sake.”

The woman smirks and steps closer. “I think your employer deserves to know you were luring children away from their families!” she exclaims dramatically, attracting the attention of a nearby security guard.

“No,” Rowan says, his voice increasing in volume as well. He’s had it up to here with this day, and this woman has grated his last nerve. “That’s not… Listen…” Rowan takes a deep breath. He really cannot lose this job. “I was starving and about to go on my lunch break when some poor lost kid asked for help finding his family. I told him he could order something with me, since I felt bad. Sorry. I’ll be sure never to be polite ever again.”

Rowan has gotten in “Auntie Ae’s” face, and he’s breathing hard. He’s worked up, and he knows it’s not her fault, but fuck this day.

“Is everything alright here, Ms. Ashryver?” the approaching security guard asks, and Rowan pales.

The woman steps back and takes a breath, her fury melting into a warm smile for the guard. “No, Frank, everything is fine. Just thanking one of our newest employees, who made friends with Gavin today.”

The guard chuckles. “He run off again?”

The woman’s eyes flash in warning and the guard shakes his head. “Ah, don’t be mad, Aelin. You did the same exact thing when you were his age. Running from ride to ride and driving your old man crazy.”

Rowan crosses his arms as the guard saunters off, and the woman turns back to him with a shy smile.

“Ashryver, hm?” Rowan asks, feeling a little ill as he pictures the large Ashryver sign that hangs over the entryway to the park.  “So, what is this, like… hazing?”

“No! I was really only going to make the one joke and then let it go,” the woman says, biting her lip guiltily and shoving her hands into her jean shorts pockets. “But then you called me his mom and I just… got carried away. I do that sometimes. I’m Aelin. Ashryver.”

“So I heard.” Rowan rolls his eyes. “You know there’s absolutely nothing funny about calling someone a predator, right? I could be arrested if the wrong person overheard that.”

“You’re making me feel very bad,” Aelin says with a grimace.

“Good,” Rowan says resolutely. “Because now I’m also late to get back to work.” He’s more than a little annoyed at how this entire exchange has played out. And even more annoyed that he can’t stop staring at Aelin’s bright blue eyes. This is the last thing he needs. He’s about to head off when –

“You’re really not going to tell me your name?” Aelin asks, tilting her head up, trying to figure Rowan out. Rowan’s about to reply when she cuts him off, not even giving him a chance. “That’s fine. I’ll find it out. I have connections, you know.”

“I’m sure you do, princess,” Rowan says. Her lips purse at the nickname, and Rowan can’t tell if she loves it or hates it.  

“See you, stranger,” she replies, dismissing him and grabbing Gavin’s hand as she walks off. Just before turning the corner, she tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and looks back. It’s only when she winks at him that Rowan realizes he’s still standing motionless, watching her go.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

keep calm and let HR handle it [III/VI]

Rey managed to go a full year without ever directly interacting with her new CEO, but now it seems like he’s dropping by her office every single week.

(Because what else is a love-struck fool to do when he falls for his head of HR other than find reasons to visit her department?)

OR: five times Ben gets summoned down to HR, and one time Rey gets called into the CEO’s office, based on this prompt from @optimisticsprinkles​: “Rey as the director of HR at [office] and Kylo/Ben starts finding reasons to be sent down to HR”.

We’re officially halfway done with this modern AU colleagues to friends to lovers! In today’s update:  Ben leaves a board meeting armed with the perfect excuse to go visit Rey. (Fun fact: Leia and Amilyn sit on the board, and they have enough eyes and ears in the building to get all the latest gossip...)

Chapter 2 Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?

To: rey_niima@organafoundation.com From: ben_solo@organafoundation.com Subject: Employee engagement efforts

Hi Rey,

I just met with the board this morning, and one of the things they want us to work on is our employee engagement. I’m guessing yours is the relevant department for me to go to on this. Would it be okay for me to drop by your office sometime today to get the discussion started? I’m free any time after lunch.

Best regards, Ben Solo, Chief Executive Officer, The Organa Foundation.

 To: ben_solo@organafoundation.com From: rey_niima@organafoundation.com Subject: Re: Employee engagement efforts

Hey Ben,

Sure! I’ve actually been looking into that too, so I’ve got some ideas I’d love to bounce off you. I’m free at 3PM, see you then!

Warm regards, Rey Niima, Head of Human Resources, The Organa Foundation.

 A shadow falls upon her office two minutes before 3PM, and Rey looks up to find the increasingly familiar sight of Ben Solo hovering in her doorway.

“Hey,” he says, and Rey blinks at the realization that she’s happy to hear his voice again, even if it is a tiny bit hesitant as he takes in the sight of her surrounded by folders and print-outs. “Is this a good time?”

“Oh, right,” Rey mutters as she looks at the somewhat-organized mess she’s made. “Come on in, I’ll just-“ She makes quick work of putting everything together into a single stack on the corner of her desk while Ben closes the door behind him and settles into his spot opposite her.

Rey looks up from her task and greets him with a grin that feels just the slightest bit too big on her face. “Hi.”

It’s hard to be self-conscious when Ben returns the gesture with a huge smile of his own, though. “Hi.”

She’s not sure how long they would’ve remained frozen like that, just smiling at each other in silence, if Rose hadn’t startled them with a barely muffled shriek of laughter from beyond the door. But she does, and the whole thing does a rather good job of snapping them both out of their unexpected little moment.

“So,” Rey says as Ben clears his throat and sits up a little straighter. “Employee engagement. Any ideas?”

Ben shrugs even as he gives her a sheepish little smile. “I was kinda hoping you’d have some, actually. Or maybe you could walk me through what my mom and Amilyn used to do?”

It’s a bit of a surprise, hearing Ben address her predecessor so familiarly when she’d remained Ms. Holdo to nearly everyone in the foundation up until the day she retired, but a hazy memory of Amilyn mentioning her godson in passing once quickly pushes its way to the forefront of Rey’s mind.

“Oh, sure! Amilyn implemented a lot of ideas over the years, she liked to call them ‘bonding opportunities’, but I think my personal favorite was probably how Leia and Han used to invite everyone over for…”

Rey trails off at Ben’s sharp inhale, and it takes every single bit of willpower she has not to clap a hand over her mouth in horror at her thoughtlessness. It’d taken most of them months, nearly a year, before their grief had run its course, before they could smile at fond memories rather than mourn lost moments. Even she still struggles to remain unaffected by Han’s memory sometimes – so why, why hadn’t she considered how his son might feel before so casually invoking him?

It’s not easy, forcing herself to look at Ben, but when she does she’s surprised to find a tiny smile on his lips and a faraway look in his eyes. “The cookouts,” he murmurs. “I remember those – Mom basically jumped at any opportunity to have everyone over, and Da- Dad always grumbled that she only liked it because he was the one who had to do all the cooking.”

Her heart cries out at his little stumble, at the reminder that this is the son who gave up everything about his former life the night his dad died and ended a ten-year cold war between him and his family just so he could rush home and be by his mom’s side. Somehow, that part always gets left out in the many retellings of Ben Solo’s troubled past.

“She- they kept up the tradition for that long?” Ben asks her, looking pleasantly surprised. “There must’ve been at least a hundred people crammed into the yard by then–” He laughs at the thought.

“Give or take,” Rey confirms with a shrug. “It was crowded, for sure, but… but that was my favorite part, I think. It felt… cozy? Like how I imagine the holidays must be for people who get to spend it with their family, grandparents and cousins and distant relatives all crammed into a tiny house filled with food and laughter and…”

Now it’s Ben’s turn to look at her with eyes that see too much – aided, no doubt, by the poorly concealed longing in her voice.

“Anyway,” Rey cuts herself off with a shrug. “That’s certainly an idea, but like you said: there are at least a hundred of us now, and I don’t suppose you happen to have a huge yard perfect for dinner parties just lying around?”

Ben shakes his head. “No yard, I’m afraid. And my tiny balcony is a tight fit even for me, so…”

She finds herself oddly charmed by the image of Ben Solo, multi-fucking-millionaire (according to Poe) and the oldest of old money, think wrinkled ballsack old (also courtesy of Poe), living in a humble little apartment with a tiny little balcony just like hers, but that’s not exactly relevant right now.

“Right,” Rey says instead. “I figured that might be the case, so I was also toying with the idea of staff lunches, maybe? We could make use of the open space downstairs, or one of the bigger conference rooms on the 36th floor, and set out a bunch of food to encourage everyone to drop by for lunch and just… mingle,” she finishes weakly, faltering under Ben’s attentive gaze – or scrutiny, more likely. It’d seemed like a good idea in her mind, but now–

A thick silence descends upon them as Ben considers the idea, and then… and then he tilts his head to the side with a smile. “That could work. Everyone loves food, right?”

Rey nods a little too enthusiastically, buoyed by relief. “Exactly! And this would have a way higher engagement rate than any after-work or weekend activities, since everyone’s already here anyway.”

“Good thinking,” Ben says with a nod, and Rey pretends the warmth that begins to spread within her is simply a reaction to earning praise from her boss. “Okay, we’ll definitely look into this. What else do you have?”

And for the first time since their initial encounter, Rey thinks she might understand Ben’s confusion over their effect on each other. Because all it takes is one approving smile, one supportive look, and suddenly she finds the courage to tell him about every possibility she’s ever entertained, from serious ideas about replacing the cookout with an annual picnic to ridiculous suggestions like a hot dog eating contest.

The thing is, Ben laughs at the more ridiculous ones. And the important thing is, Ben has a beautiful laugh – it seems to escape him despite himself, but he treats it like a welcome surprise each and every time it happens, and his smile grows wider and his eyes grow warmer and Rey ran out of ridiculous things to suggest about four ideas ago but like hell is she going to stop making this man laugh.

Not by choice, anyway. But at 4PM, Kaydel promptly knocks on her door to remind her that she has another meeting in half an hour.

“Thanks, Kay!” Rey calls out at her closed door, and looks back at Ben to find his smile slowly fading. A faint little grin remains, but the rest of him is composed now, every bit the professional CEO he’s supposed to be. The sight of him back to his usual self, slowly but surely closing himself off, reminds her of one last thing that needs to be done.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how much of your time I was taking up–” he says as he begins to rise, and Rey reaches out to wrap her fingers around his wrist before she’s even consciously aware of making the decision to stop him.

“Ben, wait!”

He does, falling completely still as he stares at their hands.

Rey quickly lets go. “Um, I, I have one last idea.” Ben nods wordlessly for her to go on and so she does, making a mess of the little speech she must’ve rehearsed a dozen times in her mind over lunch. “So a few of us have this long-running Friday happy hour thing – it’s nothing big or fancy, we just go over to Maz’s to celebrate the end of the week. But I was thinking it might be fun if more people start showing up… especially the ones who have a standing invitation.”

“Oh,” Ben says. “I had no idea about that. Sounds like fun, though,” he offers with a smile.

“Wait, what?”

Surely Poe must’ve invited him at some point, right? And she knows for a fact he and Leia talk about how he’s settling in on a regular basis – why wouldn’t she have mentioned the long-standing tradition she regularly participated in? “But I thought… I don’t know why, I just assumed you knew you’re always invited–”

Realization is slow to dawn in his eyes. “I’m– you guys actually want– wait, so that’s what you meant when you mentioned standing invitations?”

Rey bites back the impulse to cringe; she sounds so… obvious and pushy and maybe even a little desperate when he puts it like that. But… “Yes. So um, consider this your proper, formal invitation to drop by and join us on Fridays, whenever you feel like it.”

Friends invite friends to come join them and their other friends for drinks, right? Especially when they can sense just how lonely said friend is.

Ben’s still smiling, but– “I don’t know, Rey,” he says slowly. “Won’t it be awkward, having the boss around?”

The words slip past her lips before she can even register them, let alone stop them. “I don’t know, I rather like having the boss around.”

There’s no hint of teasing in her voice, not even the slightest bit of flirtation – only the truth blurted out without thought, laid bare in all its sincerity and honesty.

But maybe that’s exactly why Ben’s smile grows wider and why his eyes light up and why he says–

“Well then, I guess I’ll see you on Friday.”

And sure enough, Friday evening finds Ben Solo sandwiched between her and Poe, his safe zone while everyone else slowly warms up to his presence.

Their arms and legs brush together all evening, and Ben keeps leaning in to whisper into her ear rather than yelling at her to be heard over the din, and all in all Rey thinks it’s her most successful employee engagement attempt to date.

. . .

Fun fact #1: I have literally no idea what it’s like running or even working in HR.

Fun fact #2: Writing is apparently not muscle memory, because I still don’t know what I’m doing. I keep waiting for it to come back to me, but... looks like we’re winging this one, friends!

I hope you’re enjoying it anyway. As always, thank you for reading and please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment!

[meltingalphabet]

I Should've Known

I should’ve known something was off about Juniper.

For starters, her name was Juniper. That should have been my first reg flag. But when her photo popped up on tinder, my thumb hesitated over her face. Yeah, it was a bathroom selfie and yeah, her lips were pursed in an annoying semi duck face, but fuck she was hot.

My thumb slid across my phone’s screen as I swiped right.

Our first date was at a bar near her work, somewhere in Midtown. She wanted to meet up on a Tuesday. I’d have preferred a weekend night, but whatever. I’m flexible.

When the catch is hot enough...

It was some douchey place with a sports reference for a name. Foreplay or something. The place was filled with frat-boy-now-financial-advisors taking advantage of the happy hour specials and attractive bartenders in tight tank tops.

I grabbed us a table in the back, behind the giant jenga and pool tables.

My phone buzzed with a text message. Running late. Be there in 10.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my cheap lager. She better be worth it.

My beer caught in my throat as she walked past the bar into the main seating area. She scanned the room for me, her long blonde hair over one shoulder. She wore a fitted button up shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and a pencil skirt. Her long thin legs ended in a pair of pink pumps. A little bit of spice in an otherwise fairly conservative business outfit. I felt my groin warm as my eyes lingered on her calves.

Her face lit up with recognition when she caught my gaze. Her tinder picture didn’t do her justice. Her nose and chin were round, her face an oval with a slight widows peak. Her lips were full and rosy pink. Her blue eyes wide with excitement. I raised my glass and smiled my most charming first date smile.

Five hours later, I lay in her bed empty and satisfied. Overall, a decent first date. As I listened to the water running from Juniper’s bathroom, I decided with drowsy comfort that she would make a great sacrifice.

We dated for a few months. Juniper was hot, cheeky, and wild in the bedroom. Things were going great. Until she invited me to her parent’s cabin for Christmas.

My father passed away earlier that year, so no one was waiting for me. I had to keep Juniper close for this year’s offering and I figured it was the season of family. As they say, the more the merrier.

We weren’t able to drive up to her family cabin till Christmas eve. Juniper worked as a legal secretary, and the office didn’t give her much time off, so it wasn’t till around 3pm before we  were loading Juniper’s luxury crossover. It’s ok, I thought. Still plenty of time.

She wove the car through snowy back roads and explained to me what a “snow tire” was. I had only recently moved up north from Florida and I thanked Christ she didn’t ask me to help drive. But I had never seen snow before and its beauty struck me. I watched out the window as we passed the sparkling white landscape, mesmerized.

Her parents, both lawyers, were loaded so I don’t know why I was surprised when we pulled up to the “family cabin.” The two story mini-mansion was built from polished wood and stone. Large columns stretched up from the ground to the roof, creating a sharp awning that sheltered the double glass front doors and floor to ceiling windows that spotted the modern exterior.

Juniper parked her car at the top of the driveway, expressing obvious annoyance that all three spaces in the garage were already taken by her parents’ and sisters’ cars.

I peered out the passenger window at the house. Large soft snowflakes fell lazily to the ground, illuminated by two spotlights shining from the front yard onto the cabin’s facade. The light reflected off the snow, giving it the illusion that the heavens were raining gold.

“Wow, I know I’m from Florida, but…” I paused. “This isn’t really what I was picturing.”

Juniper lowered onto the wheel to get a better look at her family home. Her face glowed in the warm light from outside. She chuckled, “yeah, I know. But don’t be fooled, it’s not all fancy.” She eyed me mischievously, “the cell service is fucking shit.”

“Ah.” I nodded, as if that one fact brought her whole family back down to earth.

“You brought your swimsuit, right?”

I laughed at the joke. “Oh, of course.”

Her smile fell. “No, Calvin, I’m serious. You brought your suit, right?”

I looked out at the snowy wilderness around us, unsure how to respond.

Juniper sighed. “For the jacuzzi! I’m sure my dad has an extra pair you can borrow.”

“Oh, great.” I said without much enthusiasm.

Big wet snowflakes coated us in the few minutes it took to unload the car and jog to the house. The door closed with a thud and Juniper dropped her bags, kicking off her pristine duck boots before bounding down the hallway.

“Amber, Clover, where are you guys?!”

I placed the box of meticulously wrapped gifts I had been carrying down and grabbed a quick look at my watch. 5:14. Perfect. The ride up was faster than I had expected. Still plenty of time.

I looked around to see that I was standing in an entrance room. The wood floor and walls glowed with the yellow light radiating from a huge chandelier hanging above my head. It was made of light grey branches braided around each other, their bark smooth and manicured as if they had naturally grown like that.

Feminine squeals rang down the hall from the back of the house. I stood there, awkwardly unsure what to do. At least I looked the part. Juniper, dissatisfied with my wardrobe, had bought me a tan wool coat. She explained that my faded leather jacket was neither weather appropriate nor fashionable. I had moved up to the city during the summer and my closet hadn’t been prepared for the blistering winds and snow of the north. I’m lucky I had Juniper to help with that. At least according to her.

Snow clung to the shoulders of the department store coat as the warmth of the house embraced me. I could feel the chilly wetness of melting snow sink into my knit beanie. A matching scarf was wrapped around my neck, the fibers clinging to my moist lips unpleasantly.

I grabbed at the scarf with my gloved hand and pulled. In my defense, I wasn’t used to the lack of individual fingers and the clumsiness of a hand wrapped in thick wool. I had half of the unwieldy piece of clothing in one hand while the end hugged my throat tightly when the Mills family entered.

“Oh no! Baby!” Juniper’s voice was filled with amusement as she rushed to help me. She took the scarf and carefully untangled it from my neck.

A gravelly voice boomed, filling the space, “June mentioned you were from the South! Guess you guys don’t really need winter accessories down there, huh?”

Juniper continued to help me undress out of my winter outwear as I turned. Behind her stood a beast of a man. He towered over my 5’11” frame, his shoulders broader than a football player’s. His beard was thick yet neatly trimmed. He wore a fitted flannel shirt and pressed jeans, making him look more like a lumberjack who modeled for L.L. Bean on his off days than a lawyer.

My mouth hung open for a moment before I regained my composure. “Mr. Mills, it’s nice to meet you.” I extended my hand around Juniper, who was still working on my coat. “I’m Calvin.”

“Matthias, Matthias!” He roared joyously, pushing Juniper out of the way as he pulled me into a tight embrace. My body was engulfed by his meaty chest. I’m not ashamed to admit it, it was the best hug of my life. Comforting and warm. For a moment, I forgot about the greater good. My purpose in life. My father. It was like being suspended in a vat of Christmas and love.

He let go of me and I stepped back, noticing for the first time the two figures behind him.

“Calvin, these are my sisters: Clover and Amber.” Juniper said, beaming from me to them.

Juniper was the middle daughter of three. Clover, at 29, was the eldest and Amber, at 22, was the youngest. The only thing the sisters had in common was that they were three of the most gorgeous women I had even seen in my life. Clover had silky black hair, cut short at her chin. Her features were sharp, her thin grey eyes bordered by heavy eyelashes. She smiled coyly at me as she extended her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Calvin.” While Juniper’s voice was high and bubbly, Clover’s voice was low and throaty. Similar to her father’s but with a husky feminine quality that made it difficult to think of her as my girlfriend’s sister.

“And I’m Amber.” A soft voice said to my left. I tore my gaze away from Clover to the younger sister. Amber was much shorter than her siblings, with thick red hair and a circular face. She had a button nose and round green eyes. She looked like she had stepped out of an Irish folktale. Amber contrasted sharply with her sisters. Juniper was tall and had an athletic build. Tight but soft, firm and preppy like a cheerleader. Clover was tall and thin, angles and bite, the only one in the room who actually looked like a lawyer (but ironically was a painter).

And Amber…. Well… Let’s just say Amber’s curves swelled and ebbed in all the right places. A sailor could get lost exploring those rolling waves.

I smiled and took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Juniper didn’t talk about her family much and I knew well enough not to ask, but I made a mental note to discreetly broach the subject of whether her and her sisters all had the same parents. “Where’s Mrs. Mills?”

Matthias’ smile wavered. “Eh, she had to run an errand.” His eyes shifted to Clover, who's returning gaze narrowed slightly. His dark eyes shot back to mine and he smiled confidently again, the moment of weirdness over as suddenly as it had started. “She’ll be back later.”

“Come on, Juniper. Help us with dinner!” Amber said as she grabbed her sister’s hand and began to pull her down the hall.

Clover’s mouth turned downwards as her dark eyes lingered on me for a moment before following her sisters.

Something heavy hit my shoulder and I jumped. Matthias had clapped his huge hand onto my back. “Let me tell you, it’s nice to have a man to talk with! I’m always surrounded by women!” He laughed a low good hearted growl as he lead me into another room.

We entered a cavernous living room, the ceiling arching high above us. Several thick naked wooden beams held it up. A large red oriental rug stretched from wall to wall, complimenting the forest green walls well. Two large brown leather couches sat kitty corner to each other in the middle of the room.

The walls were lined with hunting trophies. The taxidermied heads of different animals stared out across at each other, their dead glassy eyes unseeing. Deer and bears snarled meaninglessly, their teeth barred without emotion. A bobcat perched on a rock in the corner of the room next to a fat pheasant. Against one wall was a large glass gun rack. Polished rifles gleamed in the warm overhead light. The centerpiece of the room, a massive moose head, rested above the marble fireplace in which a large fire roared, radiating heat and golden light around the room.

Catching me eyeing his collection, Matthias laughed. “Are you a hunter, Calvin?”

I thought for a second before carefully choosing my next words. “My father and I used to go hunting once a year together. I still practice the tradition.”

“Good.” His deep voice resonated with the warmth from the fireplace, creating an atmosphere of masculine comfort and safety. “I like a man who hunts.”

I smiled at him and nodded, unsure how to respond.

“Sit down, sit down!” He ordered as he fell into one of couches. I obliged, sitting on the other couch facing him as I prepared for the inevitable father-boyfriend interview.

“Calvin…” he rolled my name around his tongue experimentally as he eyed me. “That a protestant name, isn’t it?”

“Uh…” I stammered, taken off guard. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Matthias leaned forward, resting his forearm against his thigh. “Do you believe in God, Calvin?”

The line of questioning was going down a dark path I had not expected. In the four months I had been dating Juniper, she had never brought up religion.

“Of course...” My answer was slow and deliberate.

Matthias nodded, his eyes narrowing at me. “God is the most important thing to this family. The Mills clan walks close with Him. We are His servants, and we take that role very seriously.”

I nodded. “My family believed the same. We were very devote.”

“Were?” Matthias asked.

“My father died this past February. I never knew my mother, but my dad raised me to be fearful of God.”

“And what do you believe now?”

I hesitated. “I still practice.”

“You can be honest with me, Calvin.” Matthias sat back into the thick leather couch. “I won’t tell Juniper not to date you because of your religious beliefs. Or lack thereof.” He laughed, as if that last part was a joke.

I smiled at him, “I’ll admit, I do not follow the more embellished of the ceremonies my father taught me, but I still believe in his word and actions.”

He nodded. “I can respect that. I know my daughters only participate in some of the more, how did you put it… embellished of the ceremonies solely for my benefit. I understand the younger generation doesn’t care as much for the ritual of worship. But I think it’s important that you know how deep this family’s spirituality runs. God comes first in this house. When God asks us to do something,” he paused, looking towards the floor as he cleared his throat. He looked back up at me, his gaze fierce, freezing me in time and space. “We obey without question.”

“As it should be.” I said.

We stared at each other for several moments before the tension was broken by Matthias’ deep laughter.

“I like you, Calvin.” He stood. “I’m gonna go grab a beer, want one?”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

He left and I sat in the living room, surrounded by fire and death.

Dinner and drinks passed uneventfully. The food was delicious and Matthias’ wine cellar impressive. I didn’t even notice the absence of Mrs. Mills throughout the course of the dinner. Matthias kept filling my glass and I drank the rich red wine with relish.

I should’ve known better. Christmas eve had been me and my father’s night and so maybe my overindulgence was an attempt to deal with his absence. Maybe I wasn’t ready to go through that night’s rite without him just yet. But I knew at the back of my mind that I had to. That it was my duty. I owed it not just to my father, but to the world.

As Matthias poured another glass of wine, I looked down at my watch. 9:58. I needed to pace myself. To rest. I’d need my wits and strength for the witching hour. Luckily, I did not have to excuse myself early. As the clock struck ten, Matthias raised his glass in cheer.

“Let us bless our last sip of wine before we head to bed.” His eyes twinkled with drink. “Tonight’s a big night for us, and so let us toast to family” he held his glass towards me, “and new friends. To endings and new beginnings.” He winked, his smirk lopsided. “To the most sacred holiday, and to God. Let us give to Him all that He asks of us, and hope He favors us with the treasures of His bounty.”

He stretched his glass to mine. “To Saint Nicholas.” Our wine glasses clinked as the sister’s voices echoed their father. “To Saint Nicholas!”

I laughed and drowned the last of my wine, attributing each and every red flag to the quirkiness of a rich and spoiled family of lawyer lumberjacks.

I awoke later the night to hands running up my chest. I opened my eyes, my mind groggily trying to catch up to my body’s instant reaction. A warm naked body pressed into me and I rolled towards her, pulling her closer. My lips found her soft skin and I kissed her neck, tracing the gentle curve to her jaw. Something brushed lightly against the back of my neck, but my brain was too drenched in desire and sleep to register the sensation. She moaned and I ran my hand up her side. As I cupped her breast, the supple flesh gave under my fingertips and electricity shot through my body as I squeezed. Bringing my mouth to hers, I kissed her deeply

Arms wrapped around my back and I opened my eyes with instant focus, my vision suddenly filled with Clover’s cold grey gaze.

I recognized the sensation of breasts much larger than Juniper’s or Clover’s pressing against my back, firm and soft. Amber’s breath was hot on my ear. “Shhhh, don’t fight it.” Her tongue slid across the sensitive skin at the top of my neck and brought my earlobe between her lips. She sucked softly and my dick swelled.

I turned to face her, her lips finding mine as I pressed myself into her thighs. I moaned lightly as Clover’s hand snaked around my hip. As I kissed Amber, Clover moved to my cock, gently teasing it before wrapping her fingers around the shaft.

“Oh, fuck.” I gasped as she began to stroke. I rolled onto my back, my eyes closed as Amber and Clover explored my body, their heat radiating into my sides.

Clover kissed my cheek and whispered, “open your eyes.”

I obeyed.

Above me, standing at the foot of the bed, was a woman. I sat bolt upright, filled with sudden panic. Clover and Amber’s hands fell away as they watched my reaction with amused expressions on their faces.

The woman stood, looking at me. Her hair was long, longer than Juniper’s, and it was stark white. Not graying, but pure white. She stood completely naked, her pale body glowing in the silver light of the moon outside the window. Her eyes were wide, revealing pupils completely milky with cataracts. She looked ageless, color fading from her along with her youth, yet her fair skin was still smooth and firm.

“Calvin, mom. Mom, Calvin.” Clover cooed beside me, her voice a mix of sensuality and power.

Mrs. Mills stared at me with those unseeing eyes, and she smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Calvin.” She said quietly, her voice delicate.

I was breathing heavily, my panting shifting from arousal to fear in mere seconds. My fight or flight instinct was screaming at me to do something, but I was frozen. My eyes darted to the digital clock on the nightstand. 11:28. My alarm was set to go off in only a few minutes. I still had time to prepare for the ritual. I looked up at Mrs. Mills, who was still smiling at me, waiting for a response.

My voice came out strained, tight with fear, confusion, and some embarrassment at the sheer amount of nudity around me. “You too, Mrs. Mills.”

“Please, call me Holly.” Without waiting for a response, she turned to Clover. “He will do. Prepare him for sacrifice.”

I felt a pinch in my neck, then darkness.

I opened my eyes slowly. My head throbbed and my body was shaking uncontrollably, the air shockingly cold. I tried to take in the scene around me through blurry vision. I was sitting on the cold hard ground. Short walls of snow surrounded me in a circle, but the circle itself was bare except for dozens of thick white candles. My ass cheeks were numb against the frozen leaves that had only recently been covered. I was naked and I realized the Mills family was kneeling around me.

Juniper and her sisters swayed in the chill night air, the slowly falling snow soaking into the delicate fabric of their nightgowns. They chanted together, their voices joining in a chorus of a German sounding dialect I did not recognize.

Directly in front of me stood Matthias. His hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. A black, crooked dagger jutted out from his grasp towards his face.

Jesus fuck, what time is it? I thought as I tried to stand, but my hands were tied behind my back.

A creature stepped out from the chilly darkness and into the circle. Looming above me was a reindeer, Holly straddling its back. She wore a long, flowing white gown. A crown of icicles was perched on her forehead and she looked down, her white eyes glowing in the candlelight.

Contrasting starkly to Holly’s disturbing beauty, the reindeer was twisted and distorted. It looked more like someone’s idea of a sick joke than a living animal. Instead of standing on hooves, the deer’s leg bones protruded from the ends of red oozing stumps. Bloody velvet hung loosely from white bones in fleshy stripes. It’s face was dirty and blackened with what looked like charcoal. A long, black tongue lolled out of its mouth between two rows of human teeth.

I squirmed in the rope that bound me, trying to pull its knot loose. Juniper and I had played with bondage in the bedroom and I knew her style. It wouldn’t take me long to undo anything she had done and my adrenaline silenced any doubt that it could have been any one of the other four family members.

The creature stepped forward towards me as it spoke, its exposed ankle bone pressing into the frozen earth with a dull crunch.

“I am the soul of Saint Nicholas.” It roared, its voice cracking through the air like thunder.

I paused my squirming. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard him, mortal!” Holly shrieked. Her voice had lost the fragile air from before. It was now dry and harsh, like paper crinkling into a ball. Or wood cracking as fire bites into it. It didn’t sound real. More like a demon's voice than a human’s. Like a succubus or siren. High pitched and flittering. The cackle of an evil witch.

My fight against the rope renewed with desperate determination. Fuck this shit and fuck this family.

The reindeer snickered quietly before beginning to speak again. “I am weak and old, but fresh blood will wash me anew.” His eyes glowed like burning coals.

“Oh Saint Nicholas, we worship thee!” The voices of the Mills family rose above the circle, their eyes closed with intense concentration.

Matthias continued, “we call upon the witching hour to bring our deity new life!”

“Let Saint Nicholas live again!” The daughters chanted.

The rope fell loosely from my wrists and I silently thanked my now ex-girlfriends crappy survival skills. I jumped up, naked and filled with a fury that easily squashed all self-doubt I had going into this cursed holiday. My father’s death was far from my mind, replaced with hatred.

Matthias’ eyes shot open. His daughters’ chanting faded as they looked from him to me to the god before us.

I looked at my watch. 11:58. I sighed with relief. Witching Hour wasn’t for another three hours. I had plenty of time to deal with the Mills’ shenanigans before it was too late to complete the ritual.

The reindeer, who stood almost a foot beneath me, smiled. “Oh, the foolish confidence of the son charged with the burden of the father.” He bellowed, his voice deep and impressive.

I looked down at him, our eyes locking. “What did you say?”

The deer began to paw the ground, shifting right and left. He looked like a child doing the pee-pee dance. “Oh, look at me.” He said in a mocking tone. “I’m Calvin and I’m an orphan. My daddy entrusted me with our family’s sacred duty but I’m scared.” The reindeer shook its head dramatically with each word, “if only daddy was here to help me kill these people.”

Holly’s anger faltered on her face. She was confused as well. This behavior, apparently, was not what the Mills family expected from their god.

“What the-” Matthias stood, his face twisted in confusion.

“Get the fuck off me, lady.” He bucked and Holly fell to the ground with a painful thud. Matthias reached out and quickly pulled her towards him. His daughters were now cowering at his sides. All malice and power gone from their faces, replaced with utter confusion.

How do you like it? Fucking assholes.

The reindeer continued, “luckily for little Calvin, the Mills are too dumb to know that the witching hour isn’t midnight. Little Calvin still has hours to kill all of them and burn their black little hearts in a fire born of coal and pine.”

He stopped his dance, his face becoming stern again. “You must’ve been thrilled when you were brought to the woods. No fake Christmas for Florida boy, oh no. No mail order pine needles and coal for daddy’s little boy. No, you thought coming up north was the right thing to do. Not like daddy made you live somewhere where it didn’t snow for a reason.”

I spat at the ground and look to the Mills. “This isn’t fucking Santa Claus you dim fucks.”

The reindeer took a steps towards me. “Do you believe in fate, Calvin?”

I looked down at him. “How did you find me? How… how are you even mortal?”

He leaned forward, his dead animal lips hovering by my face. “I followed you, Calvin. I could smell your hunter scent in the snow and I followed it.” He stepped back and looked up at me, smirking. “I found the same idiots I knew you would. A little early Christmas gift, just for you.” His long tongue stretched out towards me. I flinched as the dry leathery skin touched my face, caressing me. It smelt of dried fish and dirt.

“How were you able to become corporeal?” I asked, shooing his tongue away from me. It fell lifeless, hanging in front of him uselessly.

He turned his head to look at the Mills family, who stood behind him, mouths agape. Juniper’s mascara ran and she cried, confused at the scene in front of her. My mind shot back to Matthias’ gun rack. His hunting trophies on the wall.

“Oh god, he made this vessel for you? Fucking sick, man.”

The reindeer shrugged. Or at least, he lifted his shoulders in what could be interpreted as a shrug.

“So what now, are you going to kill me?”

“Not tonight, Calvin.” He winked.

I looked down at my watch. 1:15.

“I still have two hours to perform the ritual…” There was a hiss around me, like sand flowing. I looked up to see a pile of black where the Mills family had been seconds before.

The reindeer swung his face around, as if in astonishment. “Oh my! Where did those rascals get to!?!” He stomped around in mock confusion, the bare bones he stood on audibly snapping with the weight.

“Welp,” he looked back up at me, “good luck trying to find new sacrifices in the middle of bum fuck whatever state this is. I’m out.” He turned away from me and leapt into the snow. He bounded deeper into the woods, his legs spasming in front of him as if he didn’t have the right number of knees.

“See you next Christmas Eve, mother fucker!” He said over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

And now, because of the idiocy of one family, my legacy has died. For the first time in 200 years, my bloodline has failed in our sacred duty.

And for that, I apologize. I have failed you. There were so many signs, so many red flags. I should’ve known.

So here’s a warning, the last thing I can offer you in my father’s name. This Christmas Eve, make sure to lock your doors and windows. Leave your shoes outside and stay bundled in your bed. Because this year, Krampus is back.