#strollers on a budget

[babyandthetoddler]

The Best Baby Stroller Ultimate Guide

Picture this: you’re out for a relaxing afternoon stroll, the sun is shining, and your baby is peacefully napping in the stroller. It’s one of those moments every parent treasures. But behind this blissful scene lies an important decision—choosing the right baby stroller that perfectly fits your lifestyle and keeps your little one safe and comfortable. The process can feel overwhelming with so…

[playingwithapparel]

Budget Travel Essentials for Families

Traveling with your kids is one of the best ways to make lifelong memories. It can be really intimidating to plan a trip with your kids when you’re on a strict budget. Don’t give up! There are tons of budget-friendly items that can make traveling with kids way easier! Here’s my list of budget travel essentials for families. You can find the complete list of these items on my Amazon…

[queenimmadolla]

Could you write about the first time Penny or any of the babies reach for Eddie 🥺🥺 like the first time they really obviously want him or are excited to see him?

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭! :) 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐢 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞! 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

Eddie was exhausted.

  Drained. Worn out. Expended. Zonked. Depleted, just plain tired.

  He was young, not even 23 years old, and today in particular, he felt like was in his late 60s. On a normal schedule, he was fine. Could roll with life and work, but his schedule was no longer a normal one. Not since you’d first found out you were pregnant.

  A baby, while precious, was an impending expense. 

  Eddie had started picking up more shifts at the garage, longer ones. Going in early, staying late.

  It was relatively amusing work, he was good at fixing cars up. Had started at the shop just changing oil and now he worked on the actual bodies, though he preferred engines more than anything; a common problem for most who brought their cars in, and an annoyance for his co-workers, so he always had plenty to do.

  The short time you and Eddie were allotted, pending Penny’s arrival, was spent squirreling money away. You’d have to go on maternity leave, and the desk job as a Lawyer’s receptionist you’d picked up after high school still paid you well on that leave, you’d just still be missing out on a portion of your normal salary since you’d only be getting about 60 to 70% of your check. 

  Regardless of the tighter than even normal budget (the two of you were also saving up to move to a bigger place, the trailer Wayne graciously let you play house in was still a one bedroom and eventually, Penny would need her own room or the two of you would have to move out to the livingroom), the first few months after Penny’s birth had been relatively smooth. She didn’t use up a whole lot of formula then, mostly breastfed or bottle fed with your supply unless the family was out and about, and there was no place for you to feed her (even then, you preferred going back to the van to nurse her solo—Eddie would get anxiety over that after an episode of a true crime documentary show) so she’d need formula.

  Now that you were back at work, standard Monday through Fridays, you couldn’t feed her like you used to, and she relied equally on your milk supply and formula so that was a hit to the budget.

  You and Eddie had worried a bit over childcare, whether you’d have to stay home or not to take care of her since daycares were so expensive. Luckily, Wayne’s girlfriend—another occupant of Forest Hills—had taken a liking to Penny. Her son had recently left the nest, gone off to college, and she craved the presence of a child, someone to need her. Uncle Wayne hadn’t been enough (nor had he been amused when Eddie jested as much), and she got on well with Penny, so she’d offered to watch her while the two of you worked like the absolute angel she was. 

  The Saint refused to take any payment and even thanked the two of you for trusting her with Penny, baffling Eddie since that meant Maude would have to take care of Penny and Wayne, who worked nights and was with her the rest of the time. Wayne, again, hadn’t appreciated the joke.

  Childcare aside, Penny was growing. And she was growing fast. Eddie had emotional and monetary whiplash with the speed of which she was outgrowing all of her clothes and going through diapers. And things like baby jumpers and playpens and strollers and car seats were expensive. The regular bills hadn’t stopped either, so while you’d gone back to work and the two of you could stay on top of everything together—Eddie didn't want to just be getting by anymore. It was fine when it had been the two of you, now he had a baby. A little human entirely dependent on him. 

  And you. She depended on you too, it’s just—maybe it was a machismo thing, Eddie didn’t fuck around with toxic masculinity, couldn’t give a shit, but he desperately wanted to provide for the two of you. Show you that you hadn’t made a mistake dating him, marrying him, having his Oopsie baby. And he didn’t want Penny growing up to worry about finances like he had.

  So, naturally, he put a shit ton of pressure on himself. He’d continued working as much as he had when you were on maternity leave—and he’d crashed. 

  You were there, though. Had talked to him, comforted him, held him through his breakdown. It was one hell of a conversation, and he’d still been stubborn about it despite the fact that he’d made himself sick from burn out, you got through to him. You were a family. Eddie wasn’t to shoulder any responsibility on his own. It was to be shared between the two of you. Your family would be just fine without Eddie working himself into an early grave. 

  You even did the math on paper (and you were bad at math so it amused him to watch you successfully prove your point after he’d had to help you with some fractions and decimals) to reassure him. 

  With his worries put to ease, you’d convinced him to take the day off. It wasn’t technically even a day off, he’d just been going in on his days off for overtime, so he was just staying home. He still could have taken Penny over to Maude’s—Eddie didn’t want to. No point when he could have his little ball of curls and rolls (which were starting to go away as she stretched out, breaking his heart) alllllllll to himself, even if she was being fussy. 

  Maybe Penny was picking up on the vibes he’d been putting out, absorbing his stress because she hadn’t gone down to bed last night without a fight. She’d woken up this morning upset, had been irritated the rest of it, and had given Eddie just as hard of a time putting her down for her afternoon nap, as she had last night.

  Yeah. Eddie was fucking wiped out. It was still better than being at work, he certainly got to relax more, even with his furious baby screaming, so he’d never complain.

  Then, Penny started screeching from her crib and Eddie let out a groan, hands dragging down his face. Sue him, he could complain a little.

  Oh, c’mon! She hadn’t even been asleep for half an hour! 

  And there was no building up to the screeching, it was like she popped those big eyes open and just decided to start wailing. 

  With a sigh, Eddie got up from the couch and rushed to the kitchen to prepare a bottle for her. She’d fought it before her nap when he offered it to her, so she had to be hungry now. With the bottle in hand, the perfect Penny-approved temperature (she was picky), he burst into his bedroom, and her sobbing intensified, mouth wide and face almost turning a different color even as he approached her.

  Her curls were curlier than normal and almost as wet as her face—she was a sleep sweater so they often matted down to her head when she snoozed. Eddie just knew she was gonna hate the sink bath he’d have to give her later if she was still in this mood by then. 

  Penny was sitting up—had recently learned to do that on her own—a constant stream of tears dribbling down both cheeks and she stared up at him, her little eyebrows furrowed in anguish. 

  “Alright, alright. I’ve got what you want, no need to hurt anyone, bitty one.” Eddie leaned down, offering the bottle to quelle her distress. She’d recently learned to hold her own bottles, too.

  Penny’s crying died down for just a few seconds, before her breathing picked back up, breaths stuttering and she let out another shriek as fat tears continued to leak out of her eyes at an even faster rate. She smacked the bottle right out of Eddie’s hand, he hadn’t been expecting it so his grip had been loose and craned her head even farther back to stare up at him, pleading, and Eddie had no idea what for.

  Was she still tired?

  Did she need to be changed? She certainly didn’t smell like it but maybe she had peed. 

  Eddie reached down into the crib to grab the bottle and her wails died down again before picking up the moment he’d pulled back and walked to his dresser to place it on. 

  “You’re gonna have to help me out here, baby, what do you want? Huh? What does my girl need?”

  Eddie was about to get her out of the crib when Penny did something she hadn’t done before. In between her sobs, with her big, beautiful eyes squinting through her tears, her little arms reached up towards him. The movement made her unstable and she wobbled on her bottom, arms still up, before she fell over onto her side and wailed harder. 

  Penny didn’t stay down for even a couple of seconds, pushing herself back up into sitting position and reaching up for Eddie again as she bawled and Eddie snapped out of his shock (every milestone she accomplished sent him into one) and reached down, hands grasping her soft sides and hoisting her up his chest. 

  Penny immediately smothered her face against his neck, Eddie could feel the wetness from her tears and drool smearing around the skin there and he rocked her gently, one hand supporting her bottom, and the other cradling her sweaty little head.

  She still cried but as he gently shushed her, Penny’s wailing lowered in volume, “Shhhh, it’s okay, baby. You just wanted daddy, huh? Just need some cuddles to make you feel better?” He pressed kiss after kiss to her head and, much to his relief, the wailing died down completely. Penny’s breathing was evening out, still a little rapid and hitching, but she was calming down.

  “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.” Eddie walked away from the crib, back to the living room, picking up her bottle and her diaper bag on the way, “Daddy’s sorry he’s an idiot and didn’t realize you just wanted him. My little bitty pretty one was crying her eyes out and I have the audacity to try to feed you instead of cuddle you. Ugh. Feel free to bite me when you have teeth, sweet pea.” 

  By the time he was settling on the couch again, he was sure Penny was on the road to recovery, which made this next part worse. He winced as he slowly pulled her away from him. Penny immediately began to protest, breathing picking up as she started grunting while her arms reached for him and the moment Eddie placed her flat on the changing mat, she started wailing again, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open wide to let the world know her daddy had hurt her feelings, again, “I know, I know, daddy’s also so sorry he has to change your diaper so you don’t get a rash on your little toosh.”

  Eddie was quick with it, just as distressed as she was with their lack of contact. Once she had a clean diaper, her extra onesie (and he’d have to remember to put a new one from the dresser into the diaper bag) on, and the soiled diaper was wrapped up and set aside, he hastily picked her up, clutching her to his chest and she curled eagerly into him.

  He held her like that until she calmed again, then he got up to toss the dirty diaper and warm up her bottle again.

  With her—apparently—number one and urgent need satisfied, Eddie spread himself out on the couch with Penny in the crook of his arm, her chunky cheek pressed against his chest. This time when he offered her the bottle, she eagerly pulled it towards her and guzzled it down. 

  Eddie admired her while she drank her milk, his finger stroking over her cheeks to rid them of her tears as she stared up at him through long, wet eyelashes. Had he not been present for her fits, nor had he just wiped away the evidence of her suffering, Eddie wouldn’t have known she was upset at all. There was no resentment clouding those warm, brown eyes. No anger and Eddie’s chest tightened as he recalled just how forgiving babies were. So, innocent and just full of love.

  “You happy now, pretty one?” Eddie cooed, and at his tone, Penny smiled around the rubber nipple in her mouth, letting out her own coo in response. She didn’t stop suckling, but she removed one hand from her bottle to shakily reach up towards Eddie. Her movement was a little unstable, and Eddie watched with pure reverence until her tiny hand was against his jaw, soft palm gently smacking it.

  Then, not so gently smacking it.

  “Owwwuhh!” Eddie whined.

[jerzwriter]

Tobias took his friend Casey to his hometown of Washington, DC, to show her how they did the holidays. She was impressed, but now it was time to show him how it was really done in her hometown of Philadelphia. As they spend time surrounded by Christmas magic, will they be able to keep their promise to be "just friends?"

Book: Open Heart Characters: Tobias Carrick & Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 A/N: This is an altered version of a fic I wrote in 2022... but as I'm finally filling in the gaps of my Tobias/Casey headcanon, I needed to make some changes. If you're following the HC, this story would take place after Part Two: With a Capitol T. Part three will be about the last leg of their trip, and the epilogue will follow. I originally posted these as one ridiculously long fic... crazy town. lol I'm also in the process of updating my Tobias/Casey masterlist to make this a little less confusing... for me, more than you! lol. Thanks to anyone who checks this out!

Series Masterlist | Tobias x Casey Masterlist Masterlist

The day after their DC adventure, they slept in a bit. Casey had assured Tobias that while there was plenty to see during the day, the real Christmas magic in Philly took place at night, so a little more sleep wasn't just doable—she encouraged it!

When they arrived, she immetiately treated him to her favorite bagels to start the day, then it was time for a daylight stroll through Christmas Village.  Tobias was duly impressed. The tiny shops had an old-world charm, right in the middle of a bustling city, but Casey told him...

“You haven’t seen anything yet! Just wait until tonight!"

Philadelphia’s City Hall was a grand structure that was breathtaking no matter the time of year, but like everything else, during the holidays, it was spectacular. Surrounded by a cornucopia of holiday treats, it couldn't help but bring out the child in them. Casey was eager to ice skate, but Tobias passed. Still, he was happy to watch her twirl. He had no problem joining her on the Ferris wheel, taking in the sights of the City from high above, before they headed to Macy’s for the Christmas Light Show. Not one to pass up a chance to shop, Tobias spent a little more time there than Casey had budgeted for, but the good thing? By the time they left, darkness had fallen upon the City of Brotherly Love, and Tobias stood in awe in the center of it. Casey was one hundred percent right. As beautiful as it had been during the day, nothing could compare to now. 

It felt like they had stepped into a Christmas movie, with the aroma of roasted chestnuts filling the air as carolers sang Christmas songs nearby. There were plenty of harried shoppers pushing through the crowds, but for every one of them, there seemed to be a dozen others who were casually strolling around, soaking in the wonders of the season. Laughing families with tired toddlers in strollers or sitting atop their father’s shoulders, coworkers giggling over mulled cider, and couples – couples of every age strolled by hand in hand, often stopping to take a picture in front of the iconic LOVE sculpture. Tobias closed his eyes and took in a long breath - it truly was Christmastime. This was a feeling he was certain was only a part of his past. Sure, he had enjoyed holiday parties, happy hours with friends, and the like, but this... this was different, and he wanted to commit every second to memory.

“Excuse me,” a young woman's voice interrupted Tobias from his reverie. “Would you mind taking our picture?" She asked, motioning to the gentleman by her side. "Selfies are great and all, but they only go so far.”

“'I'd be delighted,” he smiled, removing a gove to better grasp her phone. He took one picture, then another, and egged them on a bit before snapping the third. "Oh, come on, give her a little kiss! On the count of three! One, two...” Snap!

The couple thanked him profusely before walking away, and he found himself unsettled by the emotion welling up inside him... was that... envy? His mind began to wander, and he could almost picture walking through the city clutching Casey’s hand; she'd stop them in their tracks to reach up and kiss his cheek, walking arm in arm; an older couple would stop them to declare how they remind them of themselves when they were younger. It was a picture that was as enticing as it was terrifying, but he couldn't shake the image if he wanted to, and in reality, he didn't want to. But a tap on his shoulder from none other than the subject daydream brought him back to reality, and he only hoped she couldn't read his mind.

“Ready to head to City Hall again?” she asked, handing him a pretzel purchased from a street vendor. "You’ll see; it’s a different world once the sun goes down.”

“Lead the way, princess,” he smiled, fighting the visceral urge to take her hand. “Lead the way.”

~~~~~

“OK,” he admitted as the imposing historic building awash in colorful lights came into their view, “and it is not easy for me to do... but you win. Christmas in Philly is pretty amazing.”

“Yey!!” she squealed, jumping up and down like a child who had just won a treasured prize. She had Tobias mesmerized, and her eyes landed on him; he was smiling. Not any smile, but that smile that made his dimples stand out, where his eyes crinkled, and then she'd just melt. She quickly looked away. She had to. She may have been loathe to admit it, but she was well aware of the effect that smile had on her, and no. There was no way she was going there.  “And you haven’t even seen the tree lit up at night yet,” she said, attempting self-distraction. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!”

“Wait, you’re not gonna gloat?”

“No,” she smiled. “I’m just so happy to see you experiencing this all for the first time... to share it with you. I wanted you to feel the magic, too.”

“Oh, trust me, Casey, I feel it. This is something I'll never forget."

They arrived at the Town Hall tree, and once again, Tobias was forced to surrender. “Wow! OK. I’m giving up completely... your tree wins.”

“Ha!” she yelled, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I told you so!”

“Hey, what happened to no gloating!”

She looked up at him with a devilish glint. “Can you just give me this, Carrick?"

He hoped his eyes would not betray him. I would give you anything, he thought but settled with saying, "Sure. You can have this."

“Thank you! I mean, it is the greatest Christmas tree in the world, so..."

“Yeah, no,” a booming voice shouted out from behind, bursting the little bubble they had created

Casey turned around with a cocked brow and hand on her hip. Her Philly attitude is on full display. “Excuse me?” she challenged.

“I mean, this is nice and all, but if you want to see the best in the world, ya gonna have to head to New York."

Crossing her arms in defiance, she glared at the entirely too-tall stranger. "I don’t believe you.”

“Have you ever seen it?”

“Uhm, no... not in person.”

“Then you can’t judge, can you?" The man smirked. "I’m a New Yorker. TRUST me on this.”  

“Well, if it’s so great... what are you doing here?”

“Ehh… my wife is from Philly,” he shrugged. “I have to indulge her every now and again.”

“Well, how kind of you,” Casey replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey,” the man chuckled jovially, “Happy wife, happy life.  And, while New York may have the best Christmas tree, I will concede Philly has the best women!” He slapped Tobias on the shoulder with such force he had to stop himself from stumbling forward. “Isn’t that right, buddy?”

Casey and Tobias turned to each other, deer caught in the headlights. Casey’s wit seemed to drain from her, along with the color on her face, as Tobias turned back to the man, trying to recover.

“While I don’t disagree with you, she’s not my wife... not even my girlfriend... we’re just friends.”

Casey didn't understand the way her throat clenched or why her eyes filled with water at his words, but the man took a long look at her, then Tobias, and smiled. "“Well, I’d get to work on that if I were you, pal. Capiche? Happy Holidays, you two.”

Casey’s cheeks were redder than the bows adorning the massive tree, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Unable to look at Tobias, she peered down at her Uggs as if they had an answer. Wiggling her toes in the soft fleece, she struggled for something to say. But as she looked away, Tobias's eyes never left her. He could have been honest about his feelings, or he could have uttered any of the dozen bad jokes he had at the ready to defuse the situation, but he couldn't do either. Honesty wasn't an option, but neither was lying about his true feelings. There was a wall of fire burning between them, but neither would risk getting burned.

“I have an idea,” he said, attempting to put them both at ease.

“What’s that?” Casey asked gratefully.

“Let’s put this ‘greatest Christmas tree of all’ thing to rest once and for all.  What do you say we swing by New York on the way home tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t joke about things like this.”

Casey bit her lip as she smiled. “I’d love to!”

“So we have a plan for tomorrow! But what do you want for the rest of the night?”

“Let’s take a ride down 13th Street. You have to see those lights! They don't call it the Miracle on 13th Street for nothing! Then... cookies and a movie at the hotel? If we’re adding New York to the itinerary, we should probably rest up.”

“If medicine doesn’t work out for you, you have a career as a cruise director, kid,” he grinned. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, they sat on the couch in their hotel room, a bowl of popcorn and a plateful of cookies within reach as they watched “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Exhausted, Casey had to lie down, placing her feet on Tobias’s lap. Unsure how to react, he rested his hand atop her ankle and exhaled when she didn't balk.

Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. That's right, that's right!

The movie concluded and delivered a lump the size of coal in TObias's throat. “You know, I am man enough to admit... that damn line gets me every time.”

But Casey didn’t answer; she had fallen fast asleep.  With a tender smile, Tobias slipped off the couch to retrieve a blanket. There was no sense waking her. After tucking it around her, he leaned over to place the most delicate kiss atop her head.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered before heading to bed. "Sweet dreams."

~~~~~

Casey was absolutely giddy when she hopped into Tobias’s car the next morning.

“I can’t believe we’re going to New York, too! This has been the greatest trip,” she enthused. “It really feels like Christmas, doesn’t it, T?”

“It sure does,” he softly smiled.

“How long is the drive?” She asked

“Once we’re on the NJ Turnpike, we’re looking about two hours.”

“Great!” she beamed. “That gives us plenty of time for holiday music!”

They made it ten minutes before Mariah Carey belted out of the surround sound in Tobias's car. (Can one really go longer than that without hearing Mariah during this season?) Casey amped up the volume, and then it happened! Her voice may have been off-key; her “seat dancing” technique was nothing anyone would ever wish to emulate, but she grabbed her empty coffee cup as an improvised microphone and gave one hell of a performance for her imaginary crowd. Meanwhile, her live audience of one was grinning from ear to ear.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need Don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree I don’t need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is yoooooooooouuuuuuuuuuu.”

“You’re gonna give Mariah a run for her money,” Tobias chuckled. 

“Really,” Casey winced. “I’m pretty sure she’d tell me to keep my day job…. Well, once I’m back at my day job."

“Hey! You’re getting closer every day,” he reassured. “You’ll be back to Ethan driving you bonkers in no time.”

“Hmm. When you put it that way it sounds odd to say I hope so, but I do hope so. Still, until then, I have a gig in this car and I take my obligations very seriously!"

She looked up at him with an endearing smile. "Don't worry! I promise to buy you a huge bottle of Advil as soon as we hit the City!”

“No need,” he laughed, pointing to his glove compartment. “There are some in there, but I don’t need them.”

“Good,” Casey smiled. “Next up, Santa Claus is Coming to Town!”

She began singing the song, a la Bruce Springsteen, but she had no idea how much Tobias agreed. Seeing Casey this happy? Santa was not coming to town, he had already arrived and delivered the greatest gift he had ever received.

Final stop coming up: New York! 🍎

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging Tobias Stans only - @alj4890 @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2 @brycesgirl @icecoffee90 @storyofmychoices

[penig]

A question of power, Pt 2

Part of the problem with assessing Aziraphale's power levels is that, not only do we not get a direct statement about them, we hardly ever see him do anything angelic-powered in canon. The flashiest things he does in Series 1 are to burn up Crowley's parking citation (which can't have been hard) and to fly Madame Tracy's scooter to Tadfield (apparently soaring blithely over the inferno of the M25; unless someone has identified Shadwell and Tracy's neighborhood as being outside the loop). He heals Anathema, and her bike, and puts a bike rack with tartan straps on the Bentley, which is arguably the least he can do given that it's his and Crowley's fault that she and the bike are injured. However, Crowley grumps at him about it, and Aziraphale appears chastened and excuses himself with: "I got carried away." When Crowley flakes out over the explosion of the Bentley Aziraphale, under protest, makes the gate SP* disappear with a minimum of fuss about the actual act, and then frets over where he might have sent him. (In the book, which has more time to be reassuring, he goes home to the family farm.)

(*Security Policeman, because it's an airbase. On an American Army posts, gates are guarded by MPs, Military Policemen.)

Am I missing anything? Because for the most part, when miracles are to be done, Aziraphale looks at Crowley, expecting him to do "the dirty work." In the French prison he refers to being reprimanded over "frivolous miracles," which is the source of my own headcanon that angels on earth have miracle budgets and Aziraphale's, at least, is stingy. This reading is supported, in Season 2, by the archangels in Heaven being alerted to a supermiracle of "25 Lazarii" boiling off of southern England. At the very least, miraculous power is monitored for angels.

We have no indication that this is so for demons, and Crowley doesn't let knowing that miracles are monitored prevent him from complaining about Aziraphale performing sleight-of-hand when he can "do proper magic," including "making people disappear." Though that particular line is presumably setup for the fate of the SP in Tadfield, it is also reasonable to extrapolate that Crowley specifies that ability because it is something he himself cannot do, or which is easier for Aziraphale to do than it is for him. Lines can do double duty when needed.

The original Series 1 script had two points at which Aziraphale performed miracles which were ultimately cut. In one, he's talking on the phone, spots a baby stroller rolling into traffic, gestures without missing a beat of his telephone conversation, and the stroller changes direction.

In the scene "Aziraphale Meets the Neighbors", his work interpreting Agnes Nutter's books is interrupted by mob types come to initiate a buyout. At first it looks like a rescue situation, per the stage directions: Aziraphale seems slightly out of his depth here. The Boss and two thugs are hard men, well-dressed, dangerous. It's like a lamb meeting three wolves. In a book shop. The thugs even manhandle the books! But when the Boss comes to the point and declares himself ready to make a "generous offer," Aziraphale counters with his own generous offer:  you and your friends tidy up the mess you've made, leave my shop, never come back, and we will say no more about it. The Boss is confused, but the thugs immediately start doing as they are bid and even turn their intimidation on the Boss, leaving the shop talking about wanting to be a florist and feeling like nicer people already. The Boss merely complains of his head hurting. This scene is an expansion on a couple of paragraphs in the book, in which we learn that Aziraphale frequently has to deal with mobsters demanding that he sell or pay them protection money. And Aziraphale would nod and smile and say that he'd think about it. And then they'd go away. And they'd never come back.

Just because you're an angel doesn't mean you have to be a fool.

My takeaway from all this has been that Aziraphale is reluctant to perform miracles at all, and that when he does, he a)does his best to make them inconspicuous and b)is prone to getting "carried away." This opens up an entire separate, but related, issue concerning how they choose to present themselves to the world and each other, and how their relationship has been negotiated through all those years, which I'll probably go on about elsewhere but which would distract from the central question of power levels if dealt with in detail here. Suffice it to say that, on the evidence of the first series and the book, there is every reason to assume them to have similar power levels that they choose to use differently. Aziraphale can probably shapeshift and travel the telephone lines; he just hasn't done it within our line of sight. Whether he could learn to stop time is an interesting question on which we can only speculate.

The second series is harder to parse, especially in the minisodes. The fact that the minisodes were separately written and directed makes this inevitable for Doylist reasons. At the Watsonian level, I believe this can safely be attributed to the separate issue of presentation. Aziraphale's supernatural powers are even less flashy than in Series 1. He barely seems to use them at all. His most obvious solo miracles prior to the Ball involve technology, and his approach there is both interesting and enlightening. We can take his negotiations with the Bentley over music, color, speed, and sound effects at face value as an interaction with a fellow supernatural entity if we assign a level of sentience to the car; but he approaches the borrowed telephone (and for that matter, those he borrows the telephone from; like the thugs and the Boss, they are coded as threats, but soften right up when he exerts his personality on them) in the same manner, asking it politely to perform its function, even though he doesn't even attempt to go through the steps necessary or even give it the information it should need. He doesn't even give it a number to call, just "my bookshop." And the telephone comes through, getting mended and upgraded as a reward (and quite possibly despite not being able to take any more upgrades; planned obsolescence is not something Aziraphale's going to cooperate with). I would love to know how the phone's owner's subsequent, blessed interactions with Twitter and Grindr are going, since Aziraphale didn't even know what they were. I suspect the algorithms run differently on that phone. It's an impressive miracle, but it keeps its head down.

The exception to this low-key trend is of course the miracle he casts in tandem with Crowley (and also while touching Jim; the question of whether in the process of protecting him they tapped into his natural angelic power is one I have not seen examined and which I am not prepared to go into myself at this time, but I feel it should at least be mentioned). When specifically asked about this miracle, Aziraphale reaches for a plausible lie and comes up with the "tried to make Nina fall in love with Maggie" dodge. And Heaven allows this as a possibility. The implication here is that even the power of Heaven can't just change a heart with a fingersnap. Human affections are hard to tamper with!

Both this and the "Aziraphale gets carried away" implications are reinforced at the Whyckber Street Ball. Aziraphale doesn't force anyone to show up, but puts himself to considerable trouble, running all over the neighborhood influencing, tempting, persuading, and bribing, even committing himself to parting with a book. Once the ball starts, he gets carried away and controls people to a funny but disturbing extent: Mrs Sandwich can't speak the name of her ancient profession and everybody buys into the roleplay and does a dance in a style few of them are likely to have attempted before (I have; English country dance and square dance are similar in that they don't require fancy footwork but you really have to know the patterns and pay attention). But Nina still doesn't fall in love.

The fact that in "Aziraphale meets the neighbors" The Boss leaves with a headache and the thugs leave discussing their other ambitions and leaning into "feeling nicer" also demonstrates that humans can't be mucked about directly in this way. Aziraphale can take them by the hand and lead them up to the brink as highhandedly as he likes, and exert as much power as he's able, but they have to make the last step on their own.

Which is Free Will and the point of the whole exercise, theoretically.

Heaven and Hell are hedged about with prohibitions and limitations - especially Heaven, but Hell isn't allowed to harm humans directly (collateral damage is fine, which is how Hastur ate all those phone solicitors) and physically can't enter a Heavenly embassy like Aziraphale's bookshop without an invitation. Aziraphale's power usage was strictly monitored and limited by rules and divine ordinance while he operated as an angel - he was absolutely forbidden to interfere with what Hell chose to do to Job and his family, and he's not allowed to save Wee Morag in the Resurrectionist minisode - and he chafes under those restrictions, pushing them right up to the edge trying to persuade Crowley not to do his worst just because he's allowed to. But he's also limited by the hold they have upon his conscience, taking so long to work up to helping Wee Morag that he loses his chance.

But once he's free of Heaven, does he go hog wild, let himself get carried away all over the place, healing and influencing every chance he gets?

Nope. He's still very restrained about throwing his power around. If Heaven doesn't impose rules, he will. Is this because he's afraid of getting carried away? Or is he afraid of his own power? Or is something else going on?

The very largest miracle he undertakes, blowing up his halo, is put off as long as he can possibly put it off. The way he holds himself back and leaves the defense of the bookshop largely to Maggie and Nina is frustrating to the viewer, but at least he makes it clear that this is a choice he's making. The reason for that choice is more properly dissected along with the issue of how he and Crowley present to the world, which I am not doing here, but it amounts to, once again, wanting Crowley to do it, though this time we get the intriguing rationale that it's because "he enjoys rescuing me so much." When the backs are against the wall, though, off comes the halo, and though he says apologetically that he's not supposed to do it outside of a state of war, he breaks that rule quickly, competently, and cleanly.

And then seems embarrassed about it.

The inescapable conclusion seems to be, that if power levels seem uneven between Crowley and Aziraphale, in favor of Crowley, it's because Aziraphale chooses that this should be so.

Which is going to have to be a third post.

[indie-brokenarm]

You will not be able to gender reconcile, sister. You will not be able to pack it, tuck it or medically block it. You will not be able to find yourself on pills or skin patches and skip out of country for a budget procedure, because the revolution will not be injected.

The revolution will not be injected. The revolution will not be brought to you by academia in four years without off-campus interruptions. The revolution will not be describable with words approved by PC professors and their impressionable youth followers who PrideTM-fully brand themselves 'Queer' with no sense of irony or risk, yet censor terms like She-Male, Tranny, Transvestite and Transgendered. The revolution will not be injected.

The revolution will not be brought to you by the Guggenheim, Whitney, MOMA or Tate, and will not star Jack Halberstam reading Gaga Manifesto then preaching mob mentality by quipping a million people liking Lady Gaga must mean there's something to it. The revolution will not thank wealthy patrons of the arts. The revolution will not make you five pounds thinner, because the revolution will not be injected, brother.

There will be no Iranian government subsidized gender reassignments pushed on men who love men or women who love women just to avoid prosecution as homosexuals under Islamic law. CNN will not predict four Ladyboys satisfying a Thai airline's sexist beauty standards for female flight attendants means equality is at hand. The revolution will not be injected.

There will be no Facebook fan pages about kids shooting hormone inhibitors that stunt their brains. There will be no Facebook fan pages about kids shooting hormone inhibitors that stunt their brains. There will be no pictures of Whitney Houston impersonators being run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process. There will be no slow motion or still life of Del LaGrace Volcano pushing a baby stroller through Heathrow in a pink, blue and purple liberation birdsuit that he had been saving for just the proper occasion.

Dancing With the Stars, Ru Paul's Drag Race, Big Brother and Botched will no longer be so damned relevant, and no one will care if Caitlyn Jenner gets a Reebok endorsement to remove her dick on live television while sex workers are in the street looking for a day's pay. The revolution will not be injected.

There will be no Transgender prison inmates raped and attacked by armed guards and convicts after being jailed for defending themselves against bashers about to blow their brains out. The theme song will not be written by Elton John, Stephen Sondheim, nor sung by George Michael, Ricky Martin, Madonna, Melissa Etheridge, or The Village People. The revolution will not be injected.

The revolution will not stereotype all Trans experiences as Trans-Female, Trans-Male, or Transsexual. You will not have to worry about a spouse in your bedroom, Logan Ireland in a tank, or your gender when choosing a toilet bowl. The revolution will not go better with 'T.' The revolution will not fight the prenatal developments that may cause dysphoria. The revolution won't put you in the driver's seat.

The revolution will not be injected, will not be injected, will not be injected, will not be injected. The revolution will be no hormone, children. The revolution will be hard to swallow.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

NEVER TELL, Chapter Two - a Malevolent AU fic

Arthur discovers he wasn't wrong about his son being weird with golden eyes.

And discovers there may be a cost to caring for him.

What is the price for helping the helpless? It's not a fun thought for a self-centered man to consume.

Listen, we are getting dark. Some body horror. Also horrible non-consensual things, though not too explicit. Dark. Please heed the warnings.

AO3

---------

They sent Arthur home with two babies, a recipe for breast-milk substitute involving malt sugar and cow’s milk, and instructions for diapers that went right over his head (but fortunately someone thought to write up for him). The basket-weave baby stroller was an older model, what they could afford, and supposed to be big enough for two babies. Arthur thought it was already too small.

The whole way home, Faroe cried. She cried as if she missed her mother, as if she knew this fake family was not complete. John never made a peep, but watched Arthur, more steadily than he felt a newborn should watch, but then, what did he know? This was the closest contact he’d ever had with children of any kind.

Faroe just kept crying .

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said to her. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

John huffed.

What an odd sound to come from an infant. A frustrated sound.

“Fuck, I never even had a puppy,” Arthur muttered to no one, and did what he could to soothe her as he walked.

What he could involved making faces (which did not work), holding her (which did, but made handling the carriage too hard), and finally, singing to her.

That worked right away. Maybe Bella had been right, and they’d heard him singing in the womb. They both stared in his direction when he did that; as long as he kept singing, they stayed quiet, so Arthur sang them home.

He stopped in front of his door to search himself for his keys. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

John huffed as if to say, no shit.

“Get used to me apologizing,” Arthur said. Finally, key located, he got their creaky, paint-peeling door open, and wheeled his babies inside.

His babies . He’d thought nine months seemed like such a long time when this plan started; now it didn’t seem nearly enough to prepare for a thing like this. 

He stared at their single-family space. It had already seemed too small with just him and Bella rattling around in it. They were really good friends, and slightly less good roommates, but it would work. It would be fine. It had to.

Arthur looked at the sheet of instructions in his hand again and tried to calculate costs. They already paid $35 for their space in this triple-decker, including utilities, which was a steal. It even had its own bathroom, which was a new and neat thing. It cost about the same amount a month to feed just the two of them. Bella was brilliant and kept their clothes in good shape, so they didn’t have to buy more, but fabric was still a cost; and now this.

Now them. Now all of it. And they’d calculated, they’d budgeted, they’d figured it out, but… Bella obviously was fired once she started showing. The money she brought in now was through sewing, through word-of-mouth, and it was good, but not reliable. There wasn’t any way to predict how much work she’d get in a month.

Arthur’s job was no better. At least sugar was affordable these days. They were very lucky prices had dropped.

Maybe he should give up this music thing. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming and humming and get a real job, something with a steady paycheck. He made one, small sound of pain. To even consider that was…

He couldn’t do it. “I’m selfish, kids,” he said to them, wheeling them through the living room area (which was also the kitchen, which was just damned embarrassing). They had a Murphy bed. The pantry was bigger than the kitchen. The bathroom was just big enough for a tub and toilet. How was this going to work?

Faroe had worn herself out, and was sniffling now in a resigned sort of way.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, scooping her up. “I don’t know how to do this. But I guess you don’t know, either, huh? First time being a kid, right?”

Faroe stopped fussing. So that really was it: she wanted to be held.

His heart did a funny little jolt. He thought it might be a happy jolt. 

These two were dependent on him. That settled in a weird way. A good way. He put Faroe down and picked up John.

John, who just… watched his face.

They were dependent on him. He’d spent his whole life staying away from that kind of responsibility (from what, he’d decided in his early teens, had driven his parents to suicide), but here he was.

It wasn’t their fault, these kids. It wasn’t their fault they’d been born to a selfish man. “I’m gonna do my best for you,” he promised John, and kissed his forehead.

John wriggled.

Arthur put him down. “Heh. Wish I had more arms. I’d hold you both.”

John wriggled as best he could in his swaddling. 

“Okay.” Arthur looked at the paper. “You’ve been fed. Your diapers are fresh. They showed me you were burped, so… I guess… what do we do now? Wait?”

Faroe was fussing again. He picked her up, and she stopped. “I need to write, though,” he told her, bouncing her a little and supporting her head as he’d seen the nurse do. “I can’t do that if I’m holding you.”

John made a sound. Was it fussing? It wasn’t crying. It was a little ha of demand, somehow.

“All right, all right, you get a turn,” said Arthur, feeling a little more capable as he put Faroe down and scooped John up.

John seemed content with this.

“What am I going to do with you two?” said Arthur softly, maybe just a little fondly.

Someone knocked on the door, and he almost jumped out of his skin. “Who in hell…”

Faroe cried. Arthur put John next to her and answered the door.

“You forgot to pick up your milk today,” said Daniel with great disapproval, and held out the sealed jug.

For the first time all day, Arthur genuinely hoped the smell of what he’d drunk had faded. “Daniel! You came!” That two-cent phone call had been worth it.

“I was late,” said Daniel, who, for all his many flaws, at least never denied he had them. “May I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” said Arthur, reminding himself that Daniel had seen the place before, and had never drawn a parallel between it and his own fancy brownstone in New York, and had never directly done anything to make Arthur feel like he was failing as a man, o r that Arthur himself had done anything wrong.

Which he hadn’t. (Except according to society, sociology, the church—)

“Thank you.” Daniel wafted in, smelling of expensive tobacco, and paused taking off his coat. “She didn’t come home with you?”

“She… she’s in the hospital,” said Arthur. “She bled badly. Almost didn’t make it. She can’t come home yet.”

It was always strange to see real emotion cross that vaguely angry face. Arthur had decided three months ago that Daniel maybe wasn’t actually angry; that like a hound dog, his face just did that . Whether that was true or not, the concern there was deeply real. “St. Mary’s?”

“Yes.” The coat went back on; it hadn’t even made it past one freed arm. “Don’t you want to meet them?” said Arthur.

On cue, Faroe squealed. It was the sweetest sound Arthur had ever heard; so happy, so… free.

“Yes, of course, I… of course.” Daniel hurried over. “Oh…”

Arthur came at a slower pace.

Faroe was… well, she was being winning . Wriggling, smiling, one mittened hand against her dimpled cheek,  squealing again as if to say hello.

John was just looking at Daniel.

At least, Arthur told himself, John’s blue eyes matched Faroe’s. What the hell had that gold thing even been?

Daniel’s voice was tight. “They’re beautiful.”

“Do you want to hold them? The diapers are clean, and all.”

“I will go see my daughter first,” said Daniel with dire condemnation (or, Arthur hoped, he just sounded like that). “I’ll return here after.”

Visions of the two of them sharing the Murphy bed briefly made Arthur insane. “What? Here? Now?” He reddened in response to Daniel’s (possibly) chiding look. “I mean, it’s a long trip back to New York, and…”

“I’ve taken a hotel.” Daniel’s tone was wry. “Do you feel particularly prepared to handle two infants alone?”

“No, not particularly,” Arthur said, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’ll be back later. Bella has not been an infant for a long time, but I remember some things.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Arthur knew he was being ungracious. “And thanks for picking up the milk. I forgot.”

“On a day like this, I wonder why?” said Daniel, and headed out. “I’ll see you soon.”

Arthur sighed and flopped into one of their two chairs.

Unable to see him, Faroe began to cry. 

Arthur stood and picked her up, then sat again, and pulled the carriage closer so he could rest a hand on John. “I don’t know how to do this,” he told them again. “But that’s not your fault, is it? None of it is. You didn’t ask to be born. We did that. I’m going to do my best for you. I promise.”

John’s head was turned to him. His little face was so grim, but then he did an amazing thing: he reached, and wrapped one tiny hand around Arthur’s index finger.

Arthur stared, mouth open.

Faroe finally fell asleep in his arm, but Arthur didn’t move to put her back. “Guess that’s a deal, huh?” he murmured to John, moving his finger just a little as if shaking hands. “You’ll be the best babies you can be, and I’ll be the best dad I can be.”

John said, “Ah.”

Arthur smiled weakly. “We’ll get through this. It’ll be worth it. I swear to God, it will.”

John huffed again as if to find that oath dubious.

“All right, fine. I swear on my piano.”

That appeared to be acceptable to the four-hour-old child, who huffed, wriggled, and settled down.

Arthur was so godsdamned tired. Maybe it was all right to just sit for a minute. Maybe things would be okay.

#

The dream was a weird one.

Arthur played in his favorite speakeasy. The men here were always ready for a good time, and usually closer to his age than some underground places. The air was blue from smoke and bad ventilation; the low hum of conversation caressed his skin with promise, with anticipation for stress relief, and he couldn’t wait to finish his set and mingle a little (or a lot) before going home.

But something was off. Arthur couldn’t see anyone off-stage. It wasn’t like he could normally make out faces while he played, but there were always shapes—man-shapes, tables, candles on those tables. Servers moving around. 

Tonight, there was only one shape. A single table, with a single male form, sitting there and watching him play.

Well, dream-logic said that guy mattered, then, so Arthur played to him.

Played with slow, crooning passion, played sensual jazz and smoky sounds. The beat he’d picked, the pulse, was fully intentional, a biological rhythm, referencing the easy and steady movement of bodies joining as one.

He played sex, and he hummed it, too, and he aimed it all at that lone table.

There was applause when his set finished. (There always was.) He grinned crookedly at the hands he could not see, and finally descended from the stage. There were people out there, logically; he knew there had to be—but he couldn’t see them, couldn’t feel them. Could only hear them, laughing and conversating beyond his view.

He reached that lone table.

The guy who sat there was white, attractive in a symmetrical way. Brown hair, medium-length, just long enough to look deliciously mussed. Skin that saw enough sun to avoid being pasty. The black suit was mid-range, not crazy expensive, but not daily worker poor, either. 

Arthur couldn’t figure him out. If he was a cop. If he was here for the purpose of this place. If he was safe.

“Aw, I’m not that scary, am I?” said the guy, and grinned. “Sit. Down.”

Arthur sat without meaning to do it at all.

He went stiff. What had just happened?

“You know, you’re not who I thought he’d pick?” said the guy, leaning in, and Arthur blinked, and  Arthur shook his head, because for one fucking second it looked like this guy was covered in blood, but he was not, he was not—“I thought he’d pick the dame, but he picked you. This might’a not been his smartest move, you know? But I guess having a baby brain will do that to a guy. Phenomenal cosmic powers… iiiitty bitty living space!” And the guy cracked up.

This… was it a dream? Arthur was no longer sure. “I… I think I’ve got to go.”

“Aww, and after you tried to seduce me and everything?” The guy clamped down on Arthur’s arm, and it felt like a vice, it felt like a metal cuff, it felt bad. “No, no, no. Not until we’re done. Cute, by the way. That was good stuff. Very catchy.”

“Catchy?” said Arthur, trying to wake up, trying to pull away, trying, again, to wake up .

“Catchy! An ear worm. It sticks in your head, drives itself in. Though I gotta say, Artie, as someone who’s had firsthand experience with real ear worms, it’s an unfair name. Ear worms writhe; they dig deep into the ear canal.” He moaned, and it was the most indecent sound Arthur had ever heard, and his body reacted even as his hindbrain said, RUN . “Biting and gnawing at the flesh… they’re near impossible to get out. It’s enough to drive someone mad!”

Arthur was turned on. Arthur was horrified.

“Mark you down as scared and horny, huh? Sure, sure, I get it,” said the guy.

“Let go,” said Arthur with more confidence than he felt. “This is a good establishment. You can’t just… it’s gotta be consensual.”

“Oh, is it, Artie? Is it? Because it sure seems to me that I can do whatever I want to you right now, and nobody’s gonna say boo .” And his fingers bit in.

Bit in, pierced the flesh, chomped right down to Arthur’s bone.

He screamed. Pulled back, or tried, but got nowhere. 

Blood spilled over the table, sprayed on the candle. Poured out with such force and such volume that part of him knew this couldn’t be real, except he felt it , felt himself deflating, felt like he was going flat as his blood began to rise on the floor.

He whimpered.

“Oh! Oh, that’s a pretty nice sound. Huh. I like that,” said the monster.

“Let go!” cried Arthur, and for reasons he could not possibly understand, tried the weirdest volley ever: “I’m a father!”

The guy did let go. And started to laugh.

The laugh was worse. Worse than the biting grip, worse than the feeling of deflating , worse than all of this had been, and as Arthur tried to crawl away (shocked at how warm his own blood was, splashing up his limbs), the laugh followed like a knife, pounded into the ground on either side of him.

He was suddenly flung to his back, and the guy was right over him, pinning him down. “He picked you , buddy. That makes you fair game.”

“What?” said Arthur, afraid he was going to drown in his own blood. It tickled his chin, rose toward his cheeks, glopped and stuck and sloshed as he tried to get free.

The guy grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close. “Listen up, Artie,” he said, low. “I don’t repeat things, so this is the only time you’re going to hear it: dump the boy.”

Arthur stared at him. Stared, mind stalled silent.

“If you do, this all goes away. We don’t look for you. Nobody bothers you. You live your stupid, human life, short and pitiful, and maybe you make the tiniest ripple, but more likely, you don’t. But we leave you alone. If you don’t dump him…”

And the guy kissed him. Hard. 

It hurt. It was fucking incredible. It was devouring, demanding, brooking no quarter, giving no choice , and Arthur struggled to break away from it and pull the guy toward him at the same time, smearing blood all over the guy’s hair and suit.

The guy broke the kiss, panting, and his eyes glowed fucking red. “Keep the kid, and you will suffer. Oh… oh! You will suffer , more than you knew a living person could. There will be no respite. No safe place. No one to pray to. Keep that boy, and every last second of your life will be spent cursing the day you spurned my favor.”

Arthur gasped, erection hard, heart pounding, trying fruitlessly to get away, unable to pull out of this guy’s iron grip. “Favor?”

“I warned you.” The guy grinned. “That’s how good you played. You earned a warning. ”

Arthur stared at him.

“Ciao,” said the guy.

And Arthur woke up.

Woke with a start, woke with a gasp, woke realizing almost too late that he had a baby girl in his arms, and he kept her, didn’t drop her, but she startled awake at his sudden movement, and the sour odor told him she needed her diaper changed.

Faroe bawled. She’d gotten scared. 

He held her close, standing, walking, willing his erection to go down, willing his stomach not to upchuck, willing himself (without effect) to understand what just happened and to know it was not real.

“I’ve got you, baby girl, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he said, pacing with her, and glanced over at his son.

John stared at him, face long with fear. He was so still. Frozen. Hands unmoving, no wriggling. And his eyes were solid gold.

Arthur did not need to see a pupil to know that John was staring at him.

He paced, holding Faroe, bouncing her a little, trying to calm her down, but his gaze stayed on John.

This… this moment.

This moment felt bigger than any he’d ever faced in his life, and he didn’t even know why.

It was a dream . A fucking stupid dream , meaningless, born of stress and living a life of lies, nothing more than that.

John’s golden eyes watched him, and his baby’s breath came fast, tiny nostrils flaring.

Faroe had mostly quieted. Arthur kissed her forehead. “Sweetie. I need to deal with your brother right now. Okay?”

She was fucking six hours old and couldn’t possibly understand him, but she did , and sniffled, sort of bapping his cheek with one mittened hand.

He placed her in the carriage and picked up his son.

John was stiff as a board. Scared. So terrified.

That was okay. Arthur was, too.

He didn’t pace. He held John, looking at him. So warm. So solid. So real. “I had a weird dream, kid,” he said.

John’s already short breathing picked up.

“You know that, don’t you? Or you know… you know something happened.”

John whined.

On instinct, Arthur walked to the bathroom to look in the mirror, and discovered his lips looked bruised.

Red. Swollen. Like someone had fucked the hell out of his face.

This did not feel good. He took a slow breath and looked at John.

John was still. John was golden-eyed. John was… helpless. Whatever else was happening here, whatever fucked-up weirdness was going on… John was helpless.

Arthur had been helpless in his life. It wasn’t a good place to be. “You’re scared, huh?” he said softly. “Whatever just… whatever I dreamed, it’s got some effect in the real world. That guy wants me to just leave you outside to die, or something.”

John was beginning to cry, but not like a baby. Tears welled in his eyes, sliding down cherubic and rosy cheeks, but he did not make a sound.

John was helpless.

Arthur had been helpless. After his parents died. When he’d been handed from person to person, and finally over to horrifyingly abusive people, against whom he’d had no quarter, no way to say no , no guardian to hide behind.

Arthur hated that helplessness , more than he feared the guy and the blood and the pain. Far more.

“I’ve got  you, John,” he said, low, and it was a vow. “I won’t toss you out. I don’t know what that guy was saying. I don’t know what’s in store. But I won’t…” he had to swallow. “I will not leave you helpless like I was. Okay? This… this queer guy has you. I don’t have power.  I'm living a lie, and it's all... it's all bad. But whatever I have, it’s yours. I won’t leave you helpless and alone.”

John’s tears kept coming, but they changed. He gripped Arthur’s finger again, tight in one minuscule hand, and his eyes went back to blue.

Whatever this deal was, it had been accepted.

Arthur didn’t know what this deal was. He knew he’d pissed off that guy. And maybe… that was it. Tonight, when he slept, it would be over.

If it was, Arthur understood he would die with the knowledge he’d been true to himself, and what other way to be was there, really? 

He kissed John’s head. “Don’t know much,” he said. “But I know your sister needs a change. Okay?”

“Ah,” said John.

Arthur put him down and got to work learning how to give a newborn a brand-new diaper, and clean up the mess he found inside.

Somehow, that seemed the perfect metaphor for this entire day.

[luninosity]

What is your secrets to have/had cats that live a long healthy life? Like foods, environment, etc. Did they all spayed/neutered, had their vaccines, annual health exams for seniors? I have 14 yo cat and i want her to be with me as long and as healthy as possible. Thank you

That's pretty much what it is, yep! :-)

Our kitties (ours now, and my parents' cats that I grew up with) have always been indoor cats (sometimes, under supervision, they can go in the backyard - fenced-in-yard - on a leash and harness; one of my parents' cats will ride in a stroller when they go for long walks, but the others get too stressed!). They're all spayed or neutered, they have all their shots, they get annual vet visits (more often if there's something that looks worrying, like when we thought Merlyn was losing weight, and she was!) and kitten or senior care (food, meds) as needed.

We try to do a lot of playtime (it naturally slows down as they age, but we want to keep them active) and keep them engaged - Merlyn likes to run and chase, so we have a lot of strings, feathers on sticks, wiggly things she can hunt! Sir Percival liked more pounce-and-kick-and-eviscerate play. :-)

We have a lot of treats, especially as they get older - especially Merlyn, right now, as she puts back on some weight! She's also very picky about variety of flavors (and senior cats need stronger flavors, as their taste buds dull a little) - she likes most things, but she gets bored, so we have to switch flavors of food! She gets wet food because it's better hydration, which is important as they get older - she has a little bowl of dry food too, but she doesn't actually like dry food all that much, so she'll really only eat it if we've both been gone most of the day and she's hungry!

I know we're lucky in that we have enough income that, when the vet says, "she needs this medication," we can say, "okay, let's do that" - not everyone can! (And honestly there's probably an upper limit, we're not, like, rich...but...we would do everything we reasonably could, and we would adjust a people-food budget to save money if we had to.) (As a pre-teen, like eleven or so, I once sat right there and watched my dad spend over $5k in one night, at one vet emergency care hospital, trying to save one of their rescues who had an out-of-the-blue, completely unpredictable, heart attack at four years old. He told them to try everything and not worry about the cost. And then he worked three overtime shifts later at his job. Which tells you a lot about my parents and their attitude toward their cats...)

I suspect we're also lucky that we both have some applicable skills - Awesome Husband is a doctor's kid and knows a lot about various medications and isn't afraid to get messy (say, if something causes diarrhea), and my mom worked as a vet tech for a few years - some of their rescue cats have been little enough that she's bottle-fed them, raised them, all of that. And I used to be a lifeguard (with applicable first-aid, including animal CPR, training and such) and I'm not at all bothered by needles - so between us we were fine doing things like giving Percy fluid injections at home, when his kidneys got so bad.

So I guess that last piece of advice is...if that's something that might come up, with an elderly kitty, maybe practice things like injections in case you need to?

But it sounds like you are an awesome Cat Parent already, given the question! <3 And Miss Merlyn says hi to your kitty, too!

[schmergo]

DC Cherry Blossoms This Week!

PSA for anyone going to see the cherry blossoms in DC this weekend! 

The kite festival and associated activities have been rescheduled to Sunday (when the weather is supposed to be way nicer). The cherry blossoms ARE at peak bloom! They’re absolutely gorgeous!

A few tips from me, as someone who’s been there a LOT:

* The walk around the Tidal Basin is about 2.1 miles, so if you start walking around, so be prepared for that if you’re planning to make a full circuit! It’s not really possible to just exit halfway around and go back home unless you, like, call an Uber.  

*If you just want a bite-sized cherry blossom experience, depending on where you enter the path and which direction you’re going, I recommend turning back after you hit your first memorial. (But the memorial in the middle, the FDR one, is my favorite, especially at night, so maybe come back sometime?) 

* If you’re taking the metro (which is probably the most efficient way in), it’s about a 10-15 minute walk to the blossoms from the Smithsonian Metro Station, so budget that in to your plans! A lot of visitors are surprised there’s no metro stop for the monuments/blossoms. 

* If you prefer driving and everyone in your party is able to use stairs, I recommend parking at The Portals parking garage on Maryland Avenue. It’s rather expensive but open until 11 PM and has a direct route to the blossoms. You just have to go down a bit of a long staircase behind the Salamander Hotel and then just follow the crowds.  

* The path around the Tidal Basin is stroller accessible, but visitors may be surprised by how narrow it is. Especially when the blossoms are at peak bloom and paths are packed with crowds, it may be tricky to navigate the curves of a narrow path right next to the water. There are also some low branches and uneven parts of the path that may pose a slight challenge. It is supposedly wheelchair accessible, though I suspect that in practice, some manual chair users will have a bit of a tough time. There is no real railing between the path and the water in most places. Also, dogs are allowed.

* There are public restrooms at the Jefferson and Roosevelt memorials! The Roosevelt ones may be the easiest to find because they’re right there when you first enter. 

* The best way to avoid the crowds is to go at sunrise or sunset. The monuments themselves are relatively well-lit, but the paths between are not always, so do be careful if you’re there in the dark! (Your biggest danger is probably accidentally stepping into the Tidal Basin, tbh.)

* If you go before sunset, there are food trucks in several locations just off the path! There are also benches and many grassy areas to spread out a picnic.  

* Worth noting: you’re not supposed to climb the trees or pick the blossoms. I see people doing that every year, but you could get in trouble. 

* In case you’ve never been into town, all the Smithsonian museums and memorials are free to visit! There are also themed cherry blossom festival specials at many local restaurants! 

* Have fun!

[ravenbara]

'ello!

its a raven. and i am moving myself and all my animals (and now a bunch of veggie plants in containers too) to a new house next month/May!!

i'm pretty scared and know my budget it very tight. i haven't moved in nearly a decade and am living on the whims of my parents and what they think is a workable financial budget. my rent is paid, my food will happen, but the things that make a new house easy to live in will be very hard to attain.

If anyone is able to and willing to help our new household out this is the amazon wishlist of things that would make our new townhouse a true home to our liking.

We will be moving into the master bedroom of a lovely and adorable townhouse with rooftop deck for my plants and Harry cat will have a new playmate in a pup nearly half his size! The birds will have as much freedom inside as the 8 lb pup, Shortbread will let them safely have. (three stories, even if Shortbread is in one room there are a bunch of other options for safe birds on my shoulders). There is a tiny park within walking distance of Harry and our stroller and Shortbread is amazing at walks and will be coming with. There is a library within walking distance and bus lines and a neighborhood behind us with what i think i saw a lending library type set up. 5 minutes drive to a river. Such a great place!!

[heidi-oferrall-is-a-narcissist]

So fun fact about the "drape dress", it's made by Gunne Sax, and they go for hundreds of dollars a pop minimum. So next time Heidi complains about being broke, remember she won't think twice about losing hundreds of dollars on a dress that doesn't even look good.

She's been doing that for a long time, she spends hundreds of dollars on cat strollers or decorations in her shop even though her shop is entirely online and she doesn't have customers physically walking in to see those decorations. Then after she wastes all of the tiny bit of earnings she actually gets on frivolous junk, she whines on Twitter about having no money for bills and how it's everybody else's fault and absolutely not her inability to manage a budget. Rinse and repeat. It's like she expects throwing a temper tantrum whenever she spends all her money will get her bills paid for the rest of her life so she can buy whatever she wants whenever she wants.

[geenalovesthelittlethings]

Please, them looking at strollers and H is all “money is no problem, but I don’t think 3000 is a great price for a stroller” and the missus is like “I feel like we should just ask them to see what they have, there’s too many options” they end up ordering the same stroller as Mitch and Sarah and all is right in their world.

PLEASE 😂 This is 100% how it would go. I feel like money not being a concern almost makes it worse because they could legit pick ANYTHING (which I know is like a really privileged problem to have lol). At least if you have a budget you can eliminate ones you definitely cannot afford or want to spend that much on but that's not the case here lol. So they'd definitely just buy whatever Mitch and Sarah have.

[wsetech1]

Easy Traveling with Your Baby: The Best Stroller Car Seat Combos

Intro

One of the biggest challenges for new parents is navigating the world of baby gear. With so many options available, it can be overwhelming to know what to choose, especially when it comes to Best Stroller Car Seat Combo and strollers. That's why a travel system that combines both can be a lifesaver. The Good Housekeeping Institute has done the research for you, testing dozens of stroller car seat combos to find the best ones on the market in 2023. In this blog post, we'll take a closer look at these top-performing products, covering everything from safety features to ease of use.

1. Chicco Bravo Trio Travel System

The Chicco Bravo Trio Travel System is a standout option for its combination of safety, convenience, and versatility. It includes a Key Fit 30 infant Best Stroller Car Seat Combothat's easy to install and secure, with excellent side-impact protection and a sturdy base. The stroller itself is lightweight and maneuverable, with a one-handed fold and adjustable handlebar. Parents appreciate the convenient storage basket and removable tray for snacks and drinks. And as your baby grows, the Bravo Trio can be converted into a toddler stroller, giving you years of use out of this one system.

2.Graco Modes Click Connect Travel System Best Stroller Car Seat Combo

For a more budget-friendly option, the Graco Modes Click Connect Travel System offers plenty of features for a lower price tag. The Snug Ride Click Connect 35 infant Best Stroller Car Seat Combo is easy to install and adjust, with a convenient base that stays in your car. The stroller has multiple configurations, with adjustable recline and a removable tray for snacks and cups. Parents love the large storage basket and the one-handed fold for easy storage. The Graco Modes Click Connect Travel System is a great choice for families who want a solid travel system without breaking the bank. Lear more

3. Baby Trend Expedition Jogger Travel System

Active families will appreciate the Baby Trend Expedition Jogger Travel System, which includes a jogger stroller and Flex-Loc infant car seat. The car seat is easy to install and lock into place, with energy-absorbing foam for safety. The stroller features air-filled rubber tires, making it perfect for running or hiking on rough terrain. Parents appreciate the adjustable canopy for sun protection and the large storage basket for all your outdoor gear. The Baby Trend Expedition Jogger Travel System will keep your baby safe and comfortable on all your adventures.

4. Britax B-Lively Travel System Best Stroller Car Seat Combo

The Britax B-Lively Travel System is a great option for parents who prioritize safety and ease of use. The B-Safe 35 infant car seat features high-quality materials and side-impact protection, along with easy-to-adjust straps and a harness that stays in place. The stroller is lightweight and compact, with a one-handed fold and an adjustable handlebar. Parents appreciate the large UV 50+ canopy for sun protection and the extra storage pockets for all their essentials. The Britax B-Lively Travel System is a solid choice for families who want a reliable and safe travel system.

5. UPPAbaby Vista V2 Stroller Best Stroller Car Seat Combo

The UPPAbaby Vista V2 Stroller is a high-end option for parents who want the best of the best. While it doesn't come with an infant car seat, it can be paired with the UPPAbaby Mesa for a seamless combination. The stroller itself is packed with features, including a reversible seat, adjustable handlebar, and one-step fold. Parents love the large storage basket and the option to add a second seat for a growing family. The UPPAbaby Vista V2 Stroller is an investment, but many parents feel it's worth it for the peace of mind and convenience that it provides.

Benefits Best Stroller Car Seat Combo

Navigating the world of baby gear can be overwhelming, but finding the right stroller car seat combo can make all the difference. The Chicco Bravo Trio Travel System, Graco Modes ClickConnect Travel System, Baby Trend Expedition Jogger Travel System, Britax B-Lively Travel System, and UPPAbaby Vista V2 Stroller are all top-performing options for 2023. Each one offers its own set of features and benefits, so it's important to evaluate your own needs and priorities when choosing the best one for your family. With the right travel system, you can enjoy safe and easy traveling with your baby for years to come.1. Benefits of the Chicco Bravo Trio Travel System

Convenient one-system solution for infant to toddler years

Compatible with multiple car seat models for added convenience

Easy to install and adjust car seat base with secure latch system

Benefits of Graco Modes Click Connect Travel System

Budget-friendly option with plenty of features included

Snug Ride Click Connect 35 infant car seat is easy to install and adjust

Benefits of Baby Trend Expedition Jogger Travel System

Perfect for active families, air-filled rubber tires make it great on rough terrain

Benefits of Britax B-Lively Travel System

High safety standards, energy absorbing foam in the car seat plus adjustable harness

Benefits of UPPAbaby Vista V2 Stroller

Reversible seat, adjustable handlebar, one step fold plus large storage basket

Conclusion Best Stroller Car Seat Combo

Navigating the world of baby gear can be overwhelming, but finding the right stroller Best Stroller Car Seat Combo combo can make all the difference. The Chicco Bravo Trio Travel System, Graco Modes ClickConnect Travel System, Baby Trend Expedition Jogger Travel System, Britax B-Lively Travel System, and UPPAbaby Vista V2 Stroller are all top-performing options for 2023. Each one offers its own set of features and benefits, so it's important to evaluate your own needs and priorities when choosing the best one for your family. With the right travel system, you can enjoy safe and easy traveling with your baby for years to come.1. Benefits of the Chicco Bravo Trio Travel System

[breezeriderebike]

What to Look For in an Electric Assist Cargo Bike?

The Cargo Bike originated in the late 19th century in Holland, where it was used by bakers, milkmen, and tradesmen. By the 1930s, most Danish companies were using these bikes. Today, they are used by mail couriers, food delivery people, and more. In this article, we'll take a look at the benefits of electric assist cargo bike and what to look for in a cargo bike. We'll also discuss some important things to keep in mind when choosing a cargo bike.

Rental Options

Before making a final decision on an electric assist cargo bike, check out rental options. Some bike rental services will let you borrow a cargo bike before making a purchase. Cargo bike rental services such as CarryMe Bikes and The School Run Centre rent cargo bikes. Rental costs are deducted from the purchase price. You should also consider renting a cargo bike at events, such as festivals. And finally, check out a review of a cargo bike before you purchase it.

Benefits of Electric Assist Cargo Bikes

Buying an electric assist cargo bike is a great way to transport your goods, and it also looks stylish. Unlike cars, cargo bikes are more environmentally friendly and easier to handle than ever. And because they're so much easier to maneuver than standard bicycles, they're the perfect choice for traveling with a lot of stuff. Whether you're carrying a laptop, grocery bags, or baby gear, a cargo bike can make traveling easier and more enjoyable.

Accessories

You may not need a box with an electric assist cargo bike, as there are also models that can be converted into a stroller or a small-wheeled bicycle. One such bike is the Zigo Leader, which doesn't have a box, but instead carries small children in front. These bikes are smaller and lighter than box-bikes, and they may even be a little slower than a conventional three-wheeler.

How to choose Electric Assist Cargo Bikes

Choosing an electric assist cargo bikewith additional features can help you maximize its versatility and reduce the risks of accidents. Cargo bikes come with additional accessories to help make your travels easier. For example, there are front-load trikes for parents who don't feel comfortable riding bicycles. But front-load bikes are also heavy. You can also choose a cargo bike with folding features, which makes it easier to take it on public transportation or store it in small spaces.

There are many advantages to electric assist cargo bikes, and you'll find one to suit your needs and budget. You'll need a secure parking space and plenty of space to store your cargo. You'll also find it difficult to transport larger bikes by public transportation, and they're harder to ride up hills. But cargo bikes are not for everyone, so make sure you take these into account before buying your next cargo bike. You'll be glad you did!

When shopping for an electric assist cargo bike, it's important to consider the size of the load you'll be transporting. The bigger the load, the greater the risk of damage. For example, if your cargo is temperature-sensitive, you might want to consider insulated bags or boxes for your needs. You'll also want to keep it secure to prevent any potential robbers from stealing it. If you have the budget, choose a cargo bike that comes with plenty of extra compartments.

[sakebytheriver]

God, i hate my workplace so much sometimes

I was just told today that the higher ups have made the consious decision to slice the budget for the girls' activities which not only means the girls won't be leaving the facility to do anything unless it's free (which when you live in Los Angeles is like the park fifty miles away) but that the girls won't be getting anymore snacks provided by the facility which by the way the snacks they have been getting are literally just those boxes of assorted chips you can get at Costco. Meanwhile these rich motherfuckers who spend their days on their nice little sectioned off building with all new amenities, not just one but two new elevators that don't break down every other week forcing us to carry babies and strollers up a skinny stairwell, a break room with couches and coffee something we on our side of the facility could only dream of, air conditioned offices with a thermostat that isn't controlled by people who never set foot on their side of the facility, and they just built a gym with all new equipment that they say they built for all the staff who work there but they know full well us bitches working for a buck above minimum wage for 9+ hours four to five days a week will not be using that gym and when we asked if the girls were allowed to use it, you know the teen moms that this facility is literally built to house and care for, they told us that they were allowed to they just had to fill out a form and when we asked them where the form was they said that they hadn't made it yet, this was several months ago, we have still gotten no updates on whether that form was made or not. This isn't even mentioning the six figure salary these bitches make or the fact that I have seen motherfucking Teslas in my work's garage or the fact that they are finally doing renovations for our side of the facility but still won't pay us anymore than the 3% raises we get ever once in a blue moon that they use as an excuse anytime we tell them we need to be paid more money as if the pennies of a 3% raise is in anyway comparable to the wages people in our same field in the area are making, people who previously worked for this facility and left because the pay is shit and the treatment from higher ups is worse

Like we are literally paid the least of any other facility in the area and now they're cutting the budget so the girls won't even get fucking chips, but you bet your ass no one's in any risk of having to sell their Tesla

[visaforfrance]

Find out the best places to stay in Paris

Introduction

This year's 2024 Olympics made Paris a global spotlight in the whole world. But did you know that there are a lot of other attractions like the palace of Versailles to the famous river, and Paris itself being the city of lovers, it has many things to cater the needs of everyone. The city is always alive with the bright light of the Eiffel Tower, great food and has a great history. 

All these things make Paris one of the most popular destinations where sometimes you feel like staying for a long time. But finding the best places to stay in Paris whether it's suited for family, couples or solo travelers can be a daunting task. So get your France Visa and pack your bags as you will feel like leaving for Paris after reading the post.  

Hence today in this pose we will be discussing the best places to stay in Paris. 

How to travel around in Paris

Paris has a lot of transport options to navigate around. There are more than 300 railway stations with 16 best metro lines. You can even use the trams and buses to go around the city. Although most of the people prefer walking on the cobblestone streets. Remember that only a few of the Paris metro stations are accessible due to their location. If you are traveling with children or a large family it would be best to take the advantage of bus or tram. 

Best location to stay in Paris for families

It is estimated that around 30 million tourists come to visit Paris along with their families. If you are planning to be one of them then make sure to plan out your transportation options and the itinerary. For example it will be easier to take the RER A train from Central Paris to the Chatelet station to reach Disneyland. 

Hence we would recommend the 8th arrondissement area for families as you will be right at the center of the city having the main attraction in the walking distance. The streets are large enough to take your kids on a stroller. If you want to take a mid day nap, there are plenty of rooms available. 

You can choose either Hotel Park Lane Paris or Hotel Litteraire le Swann. Both the places offer a family friendly and child friendly services in the area of 8th arrondissement, thus best places to stay in Paris. 

Best places to stay in Paris for couples

Everybody knows that Paris is the city of Lovers. If you are up for a birthday, honeymoon or anniversary celebration , there are around a thousand hotels which can capture the city’s romantic nature. There is a small town with bars and restaurants on the cobbled streets called Montmartre. It even has its own vineyard and a perfect place for couples to relax together. 

You can even choose Le Relais Montmartre which is right next to Moulin Rouge. A fine place for couples to walk and immerse in the streets and to increase the feeling of love. If you are looking for a long stay , you can choose the Montmartre Residence.

And lastly you can book a dinner on cruise on the Seine, or on the Eiffel tower or on the observation deck at Montparnasse Tower, thus confirming the best places to stay in Paris. 

Best places to stay in Paris for solo travelers

Traveling alone? Don't worry in Paris you will never feel alone. The city is full of museums, theaters and restaurants which mean there is always some activity to perform. But it’s very expensive to stay in Parin being a solo traveler. 

In this case hostel rooms can be preferred instead of hotels. However if you have a bigger budget and you are old , then the Saint-Germain-des-Pres area is the nicest part of Paris. You will absolutely move away from the rush of the city with its small cafes and beautiful buildings. The famous attraction The Arc de Triomphe is near to this place.

Then we have Hotel Artus which is also walking distance from the main attractions such as the Louvre, Notre Dame and the Champs Elysees. You can even choose Hotel Apolonia Pairs Montmartre which is one of the best places to stay in Paris. 

Get some professional assistance on how to book a France Visa Appointment in London

So are you ready to experience the best places to stay in Paris? In order to do that, you will have to get the France Visa from the UK first. If you are traveling to this country for the first time, being a UK resident, you might need some professional assistance to prepare your documents for filing the France Visa application.  We provide complete and clear guidance on obtaining a France Visa from the UK and manage the immediate Visa appointment from start to finish for a nominal service charge. 

All you have to do is visit our website, fill out the France Visa UK form with all your details, and complete the online payment to reserve your express appointment slot at the Visa Center. Then one of our advisors from the team will get back to you. 

Conclusion

Hence we can conclude that Paris has a wide range of neighborhoods and accommodation , each with its unique character and properties. Choosing the right neighborhood or place to stay can greatly enhance your experience, which will allow you to completely immerse yourself in the city’s actual culture and atmosphere. So take your time to find the right accommodation that suits your needs and preferences. So what are you waiting to get your France Visa now to experience the magic city of Light.