#thinking easter thoughts as an atheist leave me alone

[piromina]

amélie being the rabbit in the representation play because the name 'amélie' means work and rabbits represent hardworking. rabbits being a symbol of fertility yet amélie is incapable. the saying 'breed like rabbits'. eostre being the goddess of fertility and taking the form of a rabbit. rabbits meaning quietness, cautiousness, observing from a distance and choosing not to get involved in her sister's tricks. rabbits meaning tricks, though, as in a rabbit coming out of a hat. a cowboy's hat? when the rabbit and the hat meet, there is suddenly a need for magic and witchcraft. sorcery. some witches took the form of rabbits. the witch used magic. the witch caused mischief with their new rabbit and hat and sorcery, unlike before when she was the quiet, observant, clever one. rabbits constantly being portrayed as foolish despite this, as prey for the hunter. falling into their trap. rabbits representing love, but not love exactly, not requited love, just love. the feeling. when the rabbit's lover sees her, it is bad luck. when a hare crosses your path, it is a bad omen, and you are destined to die. however, a rabbit's foot is good luck. good fortune. if the rabbit's lover wants good luck at the moment, is sick and dying and needs good luck, they would need the foot. not the rabbit - just the foot. and if ripping the foot off of the rabbit would give them the foot, then they would do that. rabbits do not represent requited love. just love. not love for the rabbit. love for good fortune. love for good luck. love for oneself. good fortune for the lover, not for the rabbit. the rabbit is a symbol of innocence. as it innocently falls into the hat. the hat is a metaphor, a trap, a perfect pitfall. and the rabbit has fallen into it. it gets pulled out by the neck, caught in a chokehold unable to breathe, and laughed about among the audience. until one day, the hat and the cruel magic weaken and die. the rabbit's son takes on the role of magician afterwards. it is not a rinse-and-repeat situation, as the rabbit's son is not a rabbit. he gets to fall in love and have that love returned. the rabbit's son is a magician, but would never use that power to hurt people. he is a creation of sorcery and witchcraft, of a rabbit and a hat, and he is something, someone, special. he is not a rabbit. the name 'félix' means lucky. the rabbit's son gets to have good luck without the foot of the rabbit. he gets to love and be loved back. he gets to share a heartfelt kiss and have good luck. he always manages to get what he wants, because he is a magician. félix fathom is not an innocent rabbit.

[livingasaghost]

warning: this post will contain spoilers for the new mike flanagan show MIDNIGHT MASS. content warning for death, grief, religion.

as someone who was scarred by horror as a child and someone who hates halloween, no one is as surprised as i am that mike flanagan is one of my favorite directors/creators. for those who don't know, this is the man behind THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE and DOCTOR SLEEP. when hill house was released a few years ago, it was barely even on my radar. the only reason i decided to watch it is because everyone kept going on about how it was so scary it made them throw up or pass out or whatever.

not sure how that spurred me to turn the show on because quite literally i do not like scary things and i've had nightmares for years because of the poltergeist. but, i did in fact turn on this scary show at night in the dark of my house alone. and spoiler alert: it changed my life.

since then i've seen hill house about four times all the way through and i've also seen bly manor. (and obviously midnight mass.) as i continue to watch mike flanagan's works, i've been struck by his storytelling, his vision, and his art direction. this man is a star of his craft. when i watch his works i spend half the time studying his camera angles, his script, the little easter eggs he leaves behind. his shows fall under the same category as most of my favorite media: highly conceptual creations that feature strong themes and messages that change the way you perceive the universe and yourself and other people. i think i will spend my entire lifetime trying to explain this type of storytelling. stories like house of leaves or cloud cuckoo land or the starless sea. stories about how life is just a story, just a dream, and all we can do is appreciate our time on earth and the people we surround ourselves with.

when midnight mass originally was announced and the trailer dropped, i don't think i fully appreciated what it would be. it didn't really occur to me that mike was working on a new show, and it also didn't occur to me that while this new show wasn't a "haunting" show...it also was exactly that. there was so much hype leading up to bly manor, and when that dropped i was left feeling fairly disappointed. i think it's better that this new series doesn't fall under the haunting franchise, but i can understand and appreciate that it's basically a continuation of mike's television works. it's the same cast, the same feel, the same director...just different. and nothing like hill house or bly.

MIDNIGHT MASS is the story of a small town, an island town, that gets a new priest. you can't know more than that going in, but if you're reading this i'll assume you've either seen the show or you don't mind getting spoiled. (last chance.) what first seems like a show about alcoholism and god, quickly turns paranormal and supernatural. the show explores so many deep themes like life after death, what happens when the church strays from god and begins to glorify itself, small town religion, forgiveness. while the plot itself is incredibly compelling and it's a great mystery, i think what always gets to me about mike flanagan shows is that at the end of the day, even though it's horror and it's thrilling to watch, there is always that underlying message that is beautifully crafted and explored and it's usually about death and/or grief. midnight mass is such a wonderful addition to the flanagan collection because it forces you to look at the act of death head on. while it does explore grief, so much of this story is about what happens when you die and where you go and what comes next. and i've spent a lot of my life actively trying not to think about that.

a few months back i read a little life by hanya yanigahara and that book is all about friendship and life and also grief. it's about knowing that no matter how long your life is, at the end of it, we all die and we all lose people and one day people will lose us too. and while it's been months since i've read or actively thought of that book, i think so much of that set the stage for my 2021. i have dealt with grief in recent months, i dealt with the loss of our cat, and the combination of all of that PLUS watching this show...it really struck a chord with me. a weird one. i think the older i get the more fascinated i am by death and grief and loss and while sometimes that can be debilitating and scary, i think it's also incredibly freeing.

there's a scene (that happens twice) where two of the characters are discussing what happens when/after we die. and since this show centers on christianity, of course one of those scenarios reflects on heaven. the other scenario pictured is from more of an atheistic/agnostic perspective: that when we die, our bodies shut down and that is the end of it. what shocked me most is that as someone raised christian, someone who actively believes in a god and has read a lot about "the afterlife" or what not, i don't know that i have ever let myself believe in or think about a death that doesn't have an afterlife. doesn't have a heaven. i can't tell if that's just really good brain-washing by the church or what, but in watching that scene i felt both the thrill of fear and also a bit of relief.

here's the thing. after thinking on it all more, i obviously don't have the answer. we don't know what comes next, if anything. i think most of what religion and faith comes down to is knowing we won't know and also knowing that there isn't any logic when it comes to spirituality. to a god. as much as science exists, if we believe in a higher power, we also have to accept that science cannot explain everything. that science isn't everything period. i would like to think, and will hopefully continue to believe, that erin's view of life after death is real. that heaven exists, that we will all be reunited one day, that there is a higher power who wants us all to be loved and not alone for eternity. that sounds real to me. but i also have realized that i have doubts. that the logic side of me believes that when we die, our bodies will shut down and we will go to sleep and that will be the end.

and you know what? even though that is scary and it's a recent thing for me to consider (especially as someone who is more and more becoming anti-religion in some ways), it's also a huge fucking relief. it's a blessing. to not exist.

that sounds like my depression talking, but it's not. i promise. i've never been the type of person who wants to live forever or extend my life span. part of the whole point of mike flanagan shows, of the types of books and stories i enjoy, is that without an end, there's no point. what's the purpose of living forever? if you've seen the good place there always reaches a point where you've reached your full potential, where you've done everything, where things stop having meaning because they've lasted so long. and obviously death is still scary, not knowing what comes next is terrifying, but watching this show gave me a kind of comfort about death that i didn't know was possible. and this is a horror show about religious vampires.

throughout all the gore and hypocrisy and terror and violence of this strange show, i found myself at peace.

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Sophie the Christian

I’m a bit busy this week, so I dug out an old piece, something I wrote for a creative nonfiction course when I was a freshman in college. It’s interesting to see how my voice as a writer has shifted since then! This essay was previously posted on the University of Iowa blog The Anti-Cuttlefish in September 2013.

It’s a steamy July morning, and my hand is slick and wet from not only my own perspiration but also the cool sweat of my iced cocoa, which is now sitting in a puddle of its own creation on the stone picnic table behind Eli’s, the coffee shop down the block from my high school. I wipe my damp palm on the leg of my capris, sorely tempted to get back in my car, turn up the air conditioning, and retreat for home, but instead I continue to sit on the hard bench, sipping at my chocolaty drink. I’d already agreed to meet my former classmate here, and it’d be rude to leave before she arrived, although the weather and my own nervousness are trying to convince me otherwise.

My fingers brush against the edge of the letter folded in my pocket. I don’t have to unfold the paper to know what it says; I’ve read it several times in the few days since I received it. It’s from the girl who’d sat next to me in Expository Writing class. Her name is Sophie, just like mine, and she’s eighteen, just like me, but in the letter, she pointed out the gaping difference between us: she, like nearly everyone else in our corner of Illinois, is Christian. I’m Jewish. In pink gel pen, she expressed a desire to meet and read the Book of John with me, to “learn more about each other’s religions.”

I consider myself to be an open-minded person, one who enjoys talking about different opinions and beliefs. But as Sophie the Christian sits down next to me on the bench, greeting me with a cheery “Hello!” and a brilliant grin, I can only hope that the smile I force onto my face hides how reluctant I am to meet and talk religion with her.

One day when I was eleven or twelve, I discovered a file on the house computer full of letters that my parents had sent to my teachers over the years. Among them was a letter directed to my kindergarten teacher, in which my mother reported that two girls had confronted me at recess, telling me that if I didn’t believe in Jesus, Santa, and the Easter Bunny, then there would be monsters under my bed forever. As I read, my fingernails dug into the palms of my clenched hands. It didn’t matter that the memory of that specific event had long since faded from my memory, preserved only in this old Word document. The lesson that those girls had taught me had plenty of reinforcements: the girl in second grade who shouted at me that Jesus was the son of God, the boy in fourth grade who asked me where my God was and challenged me when I said that He was everywhere and in everything, the countless classmates of all ages who stared at me like tourists stare at the gorilla at the zoo when I told them what I was. I almost wished that I were the gorilla. No one ever asked an ape to defend its beliefs, and perhaps the solid glass wall that kept the gorilla separate from prying humans was a greater comfort to it than the insubstantial but equally transparent cultural wall that kept the other humans separate from me.

The gorilla has other gorillas in its enclosure to keep it company. I’ve never gone to school with another Jew. In my glass habitat, I have always faced the gaping, sneering tourists alone.

But Sophie’s countenance is a lot more welcoming and friendly than the usual tourist’s, and I find myself having a much better time than I expected to at the picnic table behind Eli’s, even if I find the total blissful submissiveness she expresses when she explains her connection to Jesus a bit disconcerting. (At one point, she tells me about a book in which the author learned how to fear and respect God through his relationship with his abusive father. She finds the idea inspiring; I find it frightening.) She asks me questions about my customs and beliefs, and I’m plenty willing to give answers. She never tells me that I’m wrong, and I give her the same courtesy, until she wonders aloud about people in other religions. How come so many thousands of people don’t listen to God’s word? What possible motive could they have for not believing the truth?

I tell her that people of all beliefs—Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, atheists even—think that they’re doing the right thing, that what they believe is the truth. She looks confused for a moment and then opens her Bible, eagerly pointing out to me the verses in which God says, “This is my son,” and asking me if I think that God is a liar.

I don’t think she understands.

During my meeting with Sophie, as I look at her idealistic eyes and enthusiastic smile and listen to her explain her beliefs with such incorruptible certainty, a thought keeps running through my head: we are identical in name and age, and yet we are so different in thought. I wonder how it might have been, if I were Sophie the Christian and she Sophie the Jew, if I had been baptized and she Bat Mitzvahed, if I had had her raising and she had had mine. Would we still have met at Eli’s for iced cocoa? Would I have brought my Bible to show her the Book of John, or threatened her with monsters under her bed? Would she have tried to explain to me that people in all religions think that they have it right?

Would I understand?

[crashdevlin]

Holidays, not Holy-Days

Red Queen Chronicles Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Two of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: Cassie Campbell brings her teammates and friends together for her first ever Christmas dinner. 2 aliens, an atheist, her boyfriend's ex-wife, her ex-boyfriend and an all-American lab rat worried about her mental health. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 8148

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Clint Barton x OFC, 

Story Warnings: 18+, HERE BE SEX!!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, kitchen sex, protected vaginal sex, oral sex (fem rec), identity issues, panic attack,

"Because, Clint, I know that at least two of us, probably three, have never had a Christmas dinner and Wanda hasn't had one since she was orphaned. You guys are my family and I really want everyone here. I've got this big old house to myself and I don't want that on Christmas. I know Nat's not busy. You're retired. You can't say 'no'."

"What about Laur-"

"I asked Laura. She wanted nothing to do with it. Apparently, she and the kids don't leave the house much around Christmas just in case Barney comes home. I think that's probably a real depressing place to be if he doesn't show, so come to Washington. Spend Christmas with your girlfriend and your friends."

Static came through the phone as Clint sighed. "Who is gonna be there?"

"Well, Pepper confirmed for her and Tony, but I'm gonna double check with him. I think I've caught Thor's attention, or at least Heimdall's, so I'll hear from him soon. I sent Steve a paper invite via snail mail a week ago, so I'm gonna call to see if he got it. Wanda and Vision both confirmed and Sam said he has to see what's going on with his family, but he would probably stop by. I'm gonna call Phil after I get off with you, invite him and his people."

"You gonna have enough food for all those people?"

"I'm making a goose, a turkey, and a ham, three kinds of potatoes, four casseroles, homemade rolls, store-bought rolls, cranberry sauce from scratch and 6 different kinds of pie. I have a chart to make sure everything is ready at the same time. I got this. Now, I just need you."

"Oh, tug at my heartstrings. Fine. I confirm for me and Nat. See you on the 22nd, babe."

"Love you, Hawkeye." She hung up and wiped her hand down her face. "Visit or call? Visit or call?"

Cassie sighed and hit the buttons on her landline to call Coulson. "Cassie. How's Seattle?"

"Rainy, but beautiful. Exactly what I expected. So... how's the... lack of hand?" She grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee.

"It's... bad. I'm having issues. My robotics guy is behind on making a prosthetic because our biologist disappeared and they were joined at the hip, but... is that why you called, Cass?"

"No, actually. Well, kinda. I know that the last several months have sucked for pretty much everybody and I'm thinking that we all need a bit of happy. I am hosting a Yule feast on the 22nd, and I'd like you and your A-Team to come."

"Yule Feast?"

"Yeah. I'm inviting a Viking God and a couple atheists, so I didn't want to go too religious on it. That's why I'm doing it early and calling it 'Yule'. It's gonna be great and I'd really like you and yours to be there."

"Even Bobbi?"

"Uh, yeah. Actually, I have a gift specially for her."

"Really? Aren't you dating Barton?"

"I am. Since before Sokovia, actually, since I know you wanna know. No, I developed a thing in my Stark Tech lab that I think screams 'Mockingbird'. I got Tony to agree let me give the prototype to her. If she has any complaints, it'll help me tweak it before any sort of production."

"So... you're calling to invite me and mine to Yule dinner?" There was silence for a few seconds, then Coulson asked, "Are you making sweet potatoes?"

"And sweet potato pie. Mac and Cheese casserole, mashed potatoes and those rolls I made on your birthday."

"What can I bring?"

"Just you and some presents."

"We'll be there."

"Great. See you in a few days." She turned off the house phone and took a drink of her coffee. "Call Tony," she demanded of her cell phone.

"You know who you called. Leave a message."

"The Boss is unavailable. Would you like to leave a message?" The Irish accent of FRIDAY came through the speaker.

"Oh, come on! FRIDAY, tell the man to answer his phone. Tell him I burned down StarkTech Olympia and the insurance guys are gonna be calling next."

"That's not funny." Tony's voice came through the speaker next.

"But effective, wasn't it, Boss?" Cassie asked, with a smile.

"What do you need, Campbell?"

"A vacation and a raise, but beyond that... Pepper RSVP'd for the two of you and I just wanted to make sure she even mentioned it to you before she did that."

"RSVP'd... to your little Christmas thing?"

"Right."

"Yeah. I told her to. We're good."

"Awesome. Everyone's gonna be here. Well, not everyone. Still can't seem to get a bead on Banner and he doesn't really seem like the Christmas type, but... Clint, Nat, Vision, Wanda, Sam, Phil and his crew and you and Pepper are definitely coming. I have a raven to Asgard-don't ask- and an invitation traveling USPS to New York for Steve. It's an actual paper Christmas card. Hallmark just says some things better than me."

"No. You just wanted to make Rogers feel at home. All those words you throw around, no one could say it better than you."

Cassie chuckled. "I got a blank snowman card and wrote inside it. You know me so well, Tony."

"Do you need me to bring anything? I mean, do you need me to tell Pepper we need to bring something?"

"If you want liquor, you have to bring it. I've been keeping a dry house. And... I know how you are about the holidays, so... that's what you should bring."

"All right. Next week. And StarkTech Olympia better be standing and ready for a walk-through when I get there."

"You're gonna make me give you a tour of the lab on Christmas?"

"The 22nd isn't Christmas. I don't even think it's Yule this year."

"Actually, it is. I looked it up."

"Uh-oh. You aren't getting into all that occultist weird stuff that Hitler got your daddy into, are you?"

"I'm insulted, Tony. Even as a joke, that's insulting. I was trying to be more accommodating for the aliens and agnostics on our team, all right? I'm still a Christian and I will be celebrating my savior's birth, likely alone, a few days later. This isn't about the Holy-day, this is about family."

"Yule isn't about family. It's about the God of the Sun dying and being reborn. It's kinda like Easter, without the fertility symbols."

"Oi, don't shit on my religion, Stark. Easter is not about the bunny or eggs, it's about Jesus becoming the Walking Dead. Just be here on Yule and bring booze. I have the feeling we're gonna need it." She hung up before he could and stretched her neck to relieve some of the stress.

****************************

Clint showed up the night of the 21st, calling forth a squeal from the superheroine. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "House smells like pie," Clint said.

"That's 'cause there's three pies in the oven."

"Three? Thought you were doing six?"

"Apple, pumpkin and sweet potato are in now. I've got a no-bake chocolate and a lemon meringue in the fridge setting and I did a pumpkin cheesecake yesterday. Bonus, I wanted to know if I was any good at pecan, so I made an extra pie."

"Wow. You got really into this, didn't you?" Clint asked, flicking a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorjamb between the foyer and the living room.

"I didn't have Christmas for twenty years and then, Phil was usually working on Christmas. This is the first time I've ever had a chance to do Christmas. I bought a whole bunch of ornaments and stuff. I've got a real freakin' pine tree in my living room. Real mistletoe that I had to buy through a florist. The dinner. I'm excited."

"How excited?" Clint asked, wagging his eyebrows at her.

"Are you asking for Christmas sex, because I am severely behind on my mise en place?"

"Your what?"

"Food prep. You know, giant meal tomorrow."

"And if I help you with your preparazione del cibo, you can come take a break and show me what you've done with your bedroom since I helped you move in."

"It's been months, Clint. You think we'll even make it up those stairs?" she asked.

"Love it when you turn the modesty off for me," he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a deep kiss.

She moaned into his mouth and tried not get pulled into the feeling of having Clint's hands on her hips again. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back from him firmly. "No. I... Clint. There's a lot to do still."

"And sixteen hours 'til the other guests come through that door. You said it, babe, it's been months." Clint brought his fingers up and began to unbutton her green cardigan. "This is adorable on you, by the way. Can we take it off for a sex... I mean, sec."

"Clint. What if the pies burn?"

He pulled the sweater down her arms and tossed it toward the counter. It landed perfectly, hanging from the corner of a slightly open drawer. "We don't even have to leave the kitchen."

"That's not very... sanitary," Cassie breathed out as Clint pulled her camisole top over her head and threw it over to hang with her sweater.

"You have seen my apartment in Bed-Stuy, haven't you?" Clint asked, turning her around and pushing her so that she was leaning over the counter. "How much do you think I care about sanitary? Thank you for wearing a skirt." He kissed the back of her neck as his hands glided down her legs to pull her skirt up around her hips and hooked his fingers in the band of her panties.

"There's really only one thing in this kitchen I've been dying to eat, Cass, and it's not in the oven."

"Oh. Don't be vulgar."

He pulled her panties to her feet and kissed his way up the back of her thigh. "You love it when I'm vulgar." He picked her left foot up and pushed it to rest on the counter. His tongue delved quickly into her as his left hand came around to rub her clit. His right hand dug into his back pocket and tossed a condom onto the counter. It landed perfectly on the back of Cassie's hand, as Clint continued his assault.

She ripped the foil open and handed it backward to Clint, who stood, pulling his jeans down and rolling the condom over his mostly-hard length. "Wasting no time, huh?"

"Hey, you're the one that's worried about pies. And I've been thinking about this since before I got on that plane. I'm more than ready enough. You need more foreplay?"

"God, no. Just fuck me, we can do this the right way after the guests leave."

"My thoughts, exactly." He lined himself up with her, putting his left hand on her shoulder and his right on her hip. He pushed the head of him into her, both of them closing their eyes at the sensation. He swiveled his hips forward until he was completely sheathed in her. "Did I mention how much I've missed you?"

"Missed me or missed this?"

"It can't be both?" He asked.

"Such a charmer," she whispered as he pulled back until he was just barely inside her. She bit her lip in anticipation and let her head fall forward as he began a fast-paced piston motion. "Fuck, Clint."

"Gotta visit more." Clint groaned as he attached his mouth to the junction where her shoulder and neck met.

"Oh, yes. Please. I need more of this in my life." She whimpered as Clint brought his left hand around to rub furiously at her clit.

"I'm gonna cum. You gonna cum with me?"

"Harder, Clint."

"Bossy," he breathed in her ear, but his next several pumps were harder and he pressed his fingers into her clit with much more pressure. As the muscles inside of her began to clench, Clint grunted his approval and emptied into the condom.

Cassie reached forward and grabbed several paper towels, as Clint pulled the condom off and tossed it into the trash. She handed the paper towels to him and reached down to pull up her panties. "I love you and that was great, but... I have to wash my hands and check on pies. Why don't you go put your bag in the bedroom?"

"I love you and that was great." He kissed her cheek and walked out of the kitchen, fattening his jeans.

*******************

Thor's arrival brought rain down on the house, harder than the normal Seattle drizzle, and made slush of the December snow. "Thor! A-and Sif!" Cassie said, pulling the door open. "I wasn't expecting you to bring Lady Sif."

Thor gave a huge smile as he passed through the doorway to greet Pepper, Clint and Tony. Lady Sif stopped in front of her and smiled. "I've heard much about you, Lady Cassie. Thor has regaled us of your warrior personality and your great intelligence. You'd do well on Asgard."

"Regaled you? Wha-"

"Yes, the Allfather and I both greatly appreciate the tale where Loki came to you disguised as one of your advisors and you caved in his chest with one great kick."

Cassie blinked at the giant woman. *The Allfather. Thor still doesn't know. Shit.* "The Allfather... that doesn't seem like something he'd care about."

"On the contrary," Thor said, placing a long, poorly-wrapped pole against the wall next to the tree. "Father enjoys hearing about you. He especially loves to hear about Ulysses Klaue's ship."

"Ah, yes! How you were able to redirect the witch's influence and break out of her hold while Thor and his companions were all stuck inside their minds. That you, a small Midgardian woman, had to carry the mighty Odinson to safety never ceases to amuse."

"It doesn't strike any of you as odd that Odin would care, at all, about what some Midgardian woman's doing?"

Thor clapped a hand on her back and smiled. "You are more than just a Midgardian woman. You are my friend and teammate and, though your marriage to my brother was short and involuntary, I consider you my sister."

"I believe it is your connection with Loki, his obsession with you, that spurred Odin's interest. He's ordered Heimdall report your actions weekly."

"And the ravens are watching me. That's how I got the message to you."

"Just Huginn," Thor answered.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna say it: you ever think Odin might be Loki in disguise?"

Sif and Thor looked at each other, seriously, for a moment before filling the foyer with loud laughter. "You did not tell me she was so adept at the art of jest, Thor!"

Cassie smiled, awkwardly, as Thor put his hands on her shoulders and walked her into the living room. "What's funny?" Clint asked.

"The absurdity that my brother might've gone back to Asgard, where he is a wanted man set to be imprisoned for the rest of his existence for crimes against the Nine Realms, and somehow took over Odin's life and position as King."

"That is funny. Even Loki isn't crazy enough to go back to Asgard," Tony said, a glass of suspiciously thin eggnog in his hand.

"What if he did it when you thought he was dead; before he even came back for me?" Cassie whispered.

Everyone in the room looked around as they realized she was serious. "Kid, where's this coming from?" Tony asked.

"Odin has taken an interest in her. My tales of her mightiness have made her an interest for him. She thinks this odd." Thor responded.

"You guys are right. It's absurd. Loki would never have made it to the throne room. Heimdall would've seen. He doesn't ever miss anything, right?"

"Exactly," Thor said, with a smile.

Cassie nodded and walked toward the door as the chime rang through the house. *Planted the seed. Nothing else I can do. Except admit that I've known since I was Joanna and I should've told them when I got back from Austria and Thor needs to go depose Loki from the Allfather's throne. Which will stall their trust in me, and rightfully so. Erg. Just not on Christmas, Cassie.* "Phil!" she said, with a smile as she opened the door. She wrapped her arms around him, then turned to the tall blond. "Bobbi, nice to see you up and about. How's the knee?"

"Better than the lung. Leg only hurts when I move."

"Lung hurts when you breathe. Gotcha. Well, I don't have any medical personnel here, but I've got several scientists and Nat and Clint might have some of those SHIELD un-approved pain killers that Phil's supposed to act like he's never taken because he's Director now."

"Uh-oh, Coulson. You sure you wanna introduce us to your (super young, by the way) ex? Might learn some stuff about you." A woman with wavy brunette hair and a black leather jacket said.

"'Skye', right? Wait, 'Daisy' now. Nice to meet you. Cassie. And yeah, young, but strong and awesome and mature for my age."

"You mean, 'our age', right? I mean, if we aren't the same age, then you can't be much older," Daisy started.

"That's not- our relationsh- She's young, but-"

Bobbi laughed. "Let's get inside before Coulson pulls out the whole 'Age ain't nothin' but a number' spiel."

"Ooh, or the 'she seduced me' argument," Daisy replied, as the women walked past the hostess into the foyer where they took off their jackets.

"More likely, the 'You know how hard it is to find someone who understands the job'," Bobbi said, disappearing into the living room.

"We didn't bring any presents. Except Coulson," a sad Scottish accent said as the skinny man who owned it stepped forward.

"That's okay. Got food for you, anyway, Fitz."

"How do you know us all?" Fitz asked, stopping at the doorway.

"I have cultivated an unusual and unexpected friendship with Nick Fury. He put your team together so he told me about you."

"You're friends with Fury?" Coulson asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I showed a little due respect and he showed it back." She pushed the men toward the living room and shut the door. "You know, Fury doesn't have a problem with me dating Clint."

"Probably because Barton isn't old enough to be your father," Natasha called out as they walked into the living room.

"Nat! When did you get here?"

"She walked down the stairs a few minutes ago," Pepper answered.

"Clint left the window unlocked, didn't he?"

Natasha gave her signature smirk. "You shouldn't keep pizza in your bedroom. You'll get bugs."

Cassie turned her gaze to Clint. "There's pizza in my bedroom?"

"I got hungry after you went to sleep. Amazing Nick's is open until 3 am."

"But why is the pizza in the bedroom?"

"The real question is, how'd you miss that when you woke up?" Daisy asked.

"I fell asleep on the couch 'cause I was still cooking. So, he got a pizza at 2 am and took it up to my room to eat."

"I like to be comfy when I'm overloading on carbohydrates and cheese."

"There better not be grease on my comforter."

"Hey, calm down! It's Christmas!" Clint said, with a smile.

"Oh, you got jokes, Barton, but we all know I can kick your well-toned ass, so go get the pizza out of my damn bedroom."

Clint chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

Daisy and Bobbi watched as he bounced up the stairs, two at a time. "Wow. It's weird that you're the grown-up in your relationship. Was it like that with Coulson, too?" Daisy asked.

"Um... Phil and I were both, kinda, the grown-up when we were together. I was grown-up about the domestic stuff and he was grown about everything else."

"Which wasn't much. He wasn't around often," Natasha said, casting her eyes on the Director.

"Fury had me running all over the world, chasing dangerous tech, people and aliens. New York for Stark, New Mexico for Thor and Dr. Selvig. Hong Kong. Portland." Cassie gave a tight smile to the room at the mention of Portland, sitting down next to Pepper. Stark patted her hand as Phil continued. "I was busy, and Cassie knew that I was going to be away a lot. She knew what she was getting into."

"At, what, twenty? She knew what she was getting into?" Pepper chided.

"All right, back off of Phil a little. This isn't the season of shaming. It's the season of giving. And I have presents for most of you, food for everyone. Speaking of, I have to go check the turkey," Cassie said, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

"Need any help in there?" Bobbi shouted.

"No, no. I'm good for now. Might need help in a while but... ooh, actually, if you wanted, I have a crudité platter in here. You could come grab it." Cassie pulled the platter from the fridge and handed it to the gigantic blond woman. "Hummus, ranch, veggies. Nothing that should be offensive to anyone... except maybe the carnivore Asgardians. I don't know if they even eat vegetables."

"I'm sure it's fine. Hey, you know we're just taking the piss out of Coulson for the hell of it, right? It's nothing against you or your relationship. I'm sure it wasn't anything sordid."

"It was true love... for a few years. And then it wasn't." Cassie sighed, pulling open the oven.

"But you've got Clint now. He's a good man. And if you can deal with the infantile way he deals with life, you'll be fine."

"I know. And I can." She stood, baster in hand, and shut the oven door. She looked at Bobbi. "You ever get that feeling, where something is great... it's amazing and awesome and you love it, but something isn't quite right? It's just askew."

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"My whole life is like that. Everything is just a little off center. And I don't know why, so I question everything now... even good men."

Bobbi opened her mouth to say something, but the bell rang again, prompting Cassie to nod at her and walk toward the foyer. "Steve! Wanda and Vision! Hey! Welcome, welcome, and happy holidays!" She stepped out of the way to let the Avengers into the house.

"Happy Christmas!" Wanda said, hugging her.

"Fröhliche Weihnachten, meine Freundin." She gave the brunette a squeeze and turned to Vision with a smile. "Great to see you. I was afraid you'd think this Christmas, or Yule, stuff would be silly."

"Wanda explained the importance. I'd never detract from your rituals. I was, admittedly, a bit lost about what to bring."

"We didn't have much money, but we think you'll be happy with zem," Wanda said.

"I'm just happy you're here. Living room is straight through there. Everybody's already here."

"Sam said he'll be here for dessert," Steve said, closing the door. He looked around the hallway, decked out in reds and greens. "The lights out there are nothing compared to this. You went big on the decorations."

Cassie shrugged. "First Christmas."

"Really?"

"Does it surprise you that Hydra didn't feel the need to tell me about Christmas?" she asked as Steve took his blue coat off and hung it neatly by the door. "I learned about it while I was in the Fridge, through books and stuff."

"You've been out for almost five years, now, right?"

"No one to celebrate with. Fury always made sure Phil was out during the holidays... and after I moved to New York... no one to celebrate with," she repeated.

"I'm sure Nick didn't do it on purpose."

Cassie smiled. "Yeah... he did. He wanted Phil out and away from me as much as possible. Nick and I have discussed this. Anyway, Merry Christmas, Steve."

"Merry Christmas, Cassie," Steve responded, eyeing the mistletoe above her head. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Come on."

"All right, that's everybody except Sam, who won't be here before pie." Cassie walked into the living room and stood next to the tree, Steve leaning against the doorjamb. "So, we can do presents before or after the feast. I'd recommend before, though, 'cause who wants to open presents when they're fighting a tryptophan nap?"

"Break out the presents. That big one, there, that's for me, right?" Tony asked, pointing to a large flat present.

"Actually, yes. Were you shaking gifts while I was out of the room?" she asked, handing the gift to him. He ripped the paper off to reveal a mosaic picture of Iron Man made of thousands of pictures of Tony. "I had a little time while waiting for things to finish at work, so I came up with this. Do you like it?"

"This is... amazing. Look, it's me.... made out of me," Tony said, turning the frame so everyone could see it.

"You had to play to his ego, didn't you?" Pepper joked.

"I knew what he'd like. Okay, so.... Pepper, here you go. Clint, babe. Natasha," Cassie said, handing wrapped boxes to everyone as she said their names. "Now, open them one at a time. I wanna see your faces as you open them. Pepper, you first."

Pepper smiled and tore into the box. "Oh, my. Did you make this?" she asked, pulling up a teal knit scarf.

"Yeah. I tried to make as many of the gifts as I could."

"Where did you find time to learn to knit?" Phil asked.

"Um... I learned to knit a few years ago. I was working on socks... and a blanket." She looked down, then back up with a big smile. "I was gonna do a sweater for Vision, but I decided against it. Natasha, yours next."

Natasha looked down at the long box in her lap, then ran her finger along the end of the paper and slid the box out. Inside was a knife, almost a foot long from end to end. The Russian smiled slightly as she pulled it from it's sheath. "Fallkniven A1 survival blade. 6.375 inch blade, 11 inches because it's full tang. Beautiful, perfectly balanced... this is amazing. Thank you."

"You don't already have one, do you?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. I don't. Thank you."

"Clint." Clint's box was long and when he opened it, a shiny, purple leather quiver greeted him. "I mean, it's obviously not for Tactical work, but... I like it."

"She knows your favorite color? We were married for two years before I knew your dirty secret." Bobbi seemed offended.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a man liking purple. I just don't tell anyone because some people disagree with me about that."

"That might be my fault. His first suit was all purple and blue, with a big mask. I told him he looked like a big, gay circus freak," Natasha responded.

"Mostly right," Bobbi responded.

"Seriously?!" Clint glared at the gymnast and the ballerina, before leaning forward to kiss Cassie. "I love it. I'm gonna use it at the farm everyday."

Cassie smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks. She cleared her throat and walked to the tree, grabbing another object that definitely looked like a picture frame, albeit much smaller than Tony's, and handing it to Wanda. Wanda smiled and pulled open the wrapping paper. Her face dropped into a sad look as tears began to form in her eyes. Vision put a hand on her shoulder as she hugged the small canvass to her.

"Okay, knitting, I get, but when did you learn to paint?" Phil asked, deeply impressed by the detail in her painting of Pietro.

"I got the basic lessons from this little old lady in Hohenheims. She was painting a mural of the Nativity on the wall of Father Nathan's office and I just watched and learned for a while. I work on it when I have time."

"How do you have so much time? You work sixty hours a week at the lab and you go to school. When are you painting and knitting and making mosaics of Tony?" Steve asked, crossing the living room and picking up the painting to examine it as Wanda set it on the couch and hugged the artist.

Cassie smiled. "I make time for my family." She grabbed a small box and handed it across to Coulson, who shook it.

Phil pulled the wrapping off, revealing a small plastic box. He flipped the top off and gasped, "Are these-"

"Mint and vintage. The guy tried to sell me reproductions, but I could tell the difference. I've seen the real thing. I heard what Fury did to yours and I knew it must've broken your heart once you got back from TAHITI."

"These must've cost a fortune!" Phil whispered, flipping carefully through the cards.

"Well, after I caught the guy trying to cheat me, I pulled up some footage of Sokovia on my phone and showed him that I, you know, could put the hurting on him, he gave me a good deal." She smirked as she handed a box to Bobbi.

"Are you sure you wanna give me a present?"

"I'm sure. Go on."

Bobbi tore the package open and pulled out two batons and two bracelets. "Do these... go together?"

"Yeah. The, uh, the bracelets snap on and activate and that way, you can throw your batons and the magnetic pull between the bracelets and batons will bring them right back to your hands."

"That's amazing!" Bobbi exclaimed, testing out the balance of the batons. "These... if they can do what you say... when I get back in the field..."

"If," Coulson responded, still looking at his cards, mesmerized.

"It does! And you will get out in the field again. Okay, who's left? Steve! That box," she said pointing to a big box next to the tree.

He leaned down and ripped open the box, pulling out a stack of albums. "'Music Through the Decades'."

"Starts on the ‘50s and goes on through now. I also added a few albums that I really like. Green Day is real good and Nirvana."

"If there's not any Sabbath in there, then what's the point?"

Cassie smirked at Tony. "No 'Iron Man' but I'm pretty sure 'Crazy Train' is on one of those vinyls."

"This is great, Cassie. Thank you. And thank you for... picking vinyls."

"Of course. They're coming back into vogue, so it's easier to find them."

"Everything old is new again," Clint mumbled.

Cassie giggled before turning to Thor. "I'm still working on yours. It was a tall order and I thought I could get it done before now but I... just haven't had time. I'm working on a communication device that will work between Midgard and Asgard, so you can call Jane or we could call you. Not everyone on the team has Heimdall and Huginn watching them."

"A tall order? I assume this means a difficult thing and yes, that would be a 'tall order'. Even Asgard doesn't have such a device."

"If anyone can do it-" Clint started.

"I can. But if I don't care to try, Cassie's got you," Tony said, taking a drink of his nog.

"I'll figure it out. Promise."

"Wow. She's an amazing gift-giver," Daisy mused, taking one of Bobby's batons and tossing it in the air.

"Yeah. Now it's her turn. Grab a gift." Natasha pointed at the tree.

"Allow me." Thor volunteered, grabbing the poorly-wrapped pole as Sif handed her a pair of gloves.

Cassie looked between the Asgardians in confusion. "I need gloves to open my present?" she asked. They just nodded, smiling, as the SHIELD agents looked up, nervously. She pulled the gloves on and looked down.

"That's not..." Phil set down the cards and stood, looking to Thor as he handed the pole to Cassie.

Cassie ripped the paper down and gasped as she was met with a bright silver staff, etched with Asgardian runes. "Oh, my. This is beautiful."

"That's a Berserker Staff. Nobody touch it," Daisy warned.

"Are you sure that's a good gift for-" Phil started, looking worried.

"She is mighty. She can handle the Berserk." Sif answered.

"Okay, somebody explain this one to me. Berserker Staff?"

"Cass, it's, uh, an Asgardian weapon. It gives you a massive dose of adrenaline and then, it pulls on all of your worst memories to give you a rage like you've never felt before. It's supposed to be really good in battle, but you can ask May... it's pretty horrible."

"She is mighty, son of Coul. She pulled herself from the dream this witch created when even Thor could not. If there were ever a mortal strong enough to handle the Berserker staff, it is she," Sif responded.

Cassie looked down at the staff on her lap in wonder. "Horrible but really good in battle. It's the Hulk of alien weaponry. Thank you, Thor, so much. I know this must be a huge deal, to give a Midgardian one of these."

Thor smiled his bright white smile again. "You are not just a Midgardian. You are my sister. It is no huge deal, Lady Cassie."

"I don't know if she can handle-" Bobbi started.

"On the May-to-Ward scale of handling shit, where would you place her, Coulson?" Daisy asked.

"Well, I... think that's a question for Barton. 'Cause she didn't really have any rage when I was with her, so I don't know how she deals with it."

Cassie stood as Clint opened his mouth to answer. "How about that's a question for me. I deal with my considerable rage just fine. I became a superhero with it. I don't dwell on it, but I use it, every time I fight. If that's what this thing does, then good. And don't ask my ex-boyfriend if I can handle something, Daisy." She set the staff against the wall and smiled at Clint. "Your turn, babe."

Clint grabbed a box from under the tree and a Christmas card from the mantel over the fireplace. "Box is from me; card is from Katie."

"Ooh, the other Hawkeye sent me a gift? She's never even met me."

"She insisted."

"When do I get to meet Miss Bishop?" Cassie asked, opening the card.

"Uh... sometime when Bobbi and Nat aren't around. Too many of my important women in one place... three of you makes me nervous, four would kill me."

"'I know how stressful working with Barton can be, I can only imagine how dating him must kill. De-stress on me. Merry Christmas.' Holy shit. This is a wristband for Aphrodite Day Spa. This is the most amazing spa in central Washington. It's several thousand dollars for an all-inclusive wristband. I feel bad, now. I didn't get anything for her."

"Don't worry. I've told you her daddy is rich, right? What do you get the hero who has everything?"

"Wow." She set the card down and opened the box. "Oh, my. Is this a real Henkel?"

"Euroline. That's the one you wanted, right?" Clint asked.

"I... barely mentioned that I liked it. This is... awesome."

"He got you a kitchen knife? Lame," Tony muttered.

"A ZWILLING J.A. Henkel chef knife. This is, like, the filet minon of chef's knives." She defended. "Thank you, Clint. You are amazing."

"I think we should probably go next. 'Worst for last' is not the way, you know?" Wanda said, grabbing Vision's hand and each grabbing their gifts. Cassie smiled and opened the box Wanda handed over. "I know you spent a bit of time in Austria. Thought you might want to have a bit of Europe to eat."

"Hey! Mozartkugel!"

"What the hell is Mozartkugel?" Tony asked.

"It's pistachio marzipan and nougat covered in dark chocolate. It's amazing. Helga got me addicted before I could even pronounce 'Mozartkugel'. Thank you! How'd you know?" Wanda looked down, sheepishly. "You took it from my head. That's okay. Thank you."

Vision handed her a small box, which she quickly opened, pulling out a small ceramic Santa figurine. "Aww. It's cute! Thank you, Vision." He nodded at her.

"In the vein of 'let us not leave worst for last', me next," Pepper said, pushing a card into her hands. "It's just a gift card."

"To... Sephora? High-end make up. You rock, Pepper. I was just telling Clint that I need to learn how to do my makeup."

"And I was telling her she doesn't need it."

"Well, that's a thing Barton does well," Bobbi said to Natasha, who just nodded.

Cassie smiled at Barton and thanked Pepper. Steve looked sheepishly at the group. "I, uh, feel pretty horrible about my gift. All these great gifts and... I went practical with mine."

"An umbrella is very practical," Vision said, causing everyone to cast their eyes down.

"An umbrella. For Seattle. I get it. Cute, practical. Just like you, Steve," Cassie said, with a big smile.

"All right. My turn," Tony said, handing her a large jewelry box. "It was my mother's."

Cassie was breathless as she looked down at an Art Deco necklace with an opal and two large diamonds set into a platinum pendant. "Tony... you can't... I can't."

"Pepper doesn't do opal," Tony said, pulling the necklace from the box and holding it up to her neck. "It's gonna look great on you."

"But this was your mom's."

"My mom would have loved you. She was a strong woman, too, you know. Had to be, to put up with my father's bull. Look, I'm not wearing it and I've got two important women in my life and one of them doesn't do opal."

"He really wants you to have it," Pepper whispered, encouragingly.

"But, this is..."

"You always argue when I try to give you stuff. You should know it's futile, by now," Tony said, clasping the necklace together behind her neck and stepping back to marvel at how it looked on her. "Yup. I was right. Hangs just right."

"Here," Natasha said, pulling a bow out from behind the couch and handing it to Cassie. "It's a compound, not a longbow, but compounds are easier to learn on. Or so the guy at the shop told me."

"Wow, thanks so much." Cassie looked around and smiled. "Well, if that's everything, turkey should be-"

"That's not everything. Coulson brought something," Fitz said, walking out of the room.

Phil nodded and walked away, grabbing Cassie's hand and pulling her out of her house and into her front yard. "So, I remember how much you liked LOLA and how much you enjoyed that motorcycle run we did from Malibu to San Fran, so I had Mack and Fitz put together this..." He opened up the back of the black van they'd arrived in, revealing a Harley Sportster. "It's an '03 XL 1200. Still got the endorsement on your license?"

"You... motorcycle?" She was dumbfounded.

"Not just a motorcycle. You think he'd have us work on a regular motorcycle?" Fitz asked as Coulson rolled the bike out of the van. "Well, Mack, maybe, but not me."

"Fitz is the guy who made our stealth tech work," Coulson said, proudly. "And he made quick work of the science that makes LOLA hover. Meet HARLEE. Hover Aircraft Requiring a Little Extra Effort."

"That's a horrible name," Clint commented.

"It's better than his first idea. Wanted me to figure out a way to make the acronym PHIL," Fitz responded.

"Oh, like LOLA was named after his first love," Daisy said with smile.

"This is amazing, Fitz. Did you do the whole thing?"

"Well, Mack did a lot of the work on the... the normal motorcycle parts, but the... additional bits were all me," Fitz replied, leaning down to examine his work on the HARLEE.

"This is amazing," Cassie repeated, hugging the Scotsman, who stiffened. "Thank you, Fitz."

"Thank him? Where's my thanks?" Coulson asked.

"How much help did you give the poor overworked Leopold Fitz?" Cassie asked, releasing the man and turning to the SHIELD director.

Coulson lifted his prosthetic hand. "I couldn't help much with this."

"Oh, has he been using that as an excuse since Mack cut it off?" Natasha asked.

Bobbi, Daisy and Fitz all nodded. Cassie laughed. "Thank you for thinking of it, Phil. I love it! Now, let's get inside, it's freezing out here. Let's go eat some turkey!"

Steve smirked. "I'm fine in the cold. Mind if I stay back, appreciate your present?"

"All right, but don't go becoming a Cap-cicle again." Cassie smirked as she ushered everyone else into the house.

Steve grabbed Clint's arm and pulled him away from the door, close to the Harley and forced him to bend to look at the bike. "She's not sleeping."

"Yeah? How'd I sneak a large 3-cheese past her at 2 am, then?"

"There's no way she had time to do everything and still get sleep, Clint. She was either exhausted from her insomnia, or she took something to make herself sleep."

"Drugs?"

"Lorazepam. That's what Banner gave her when she came back from Austria."

Clint pulled back, standing. "How do you know that?"

"Because I was worried." Steve stood, too. "When she came back from Austria, she should've been rested. Happy. But she wasn't. She was exhausted, I could see it when you walked in, so I went to Banner after you and Natasha debriefed me and she was passed out in his lab. Bruce told me that he'd given her anxiety meds that let her sleep. He told me that she'd been having nightmares, terrors that persisted until she saw Dr. Garner."

"So, what, you think she's dreaming of Loki again?"

"I don't think she was dreaming of Loki before, Clint. What did she learn from that first session with Doc Garner?"

"That she wasn't evil like she thought."

"And the nightmares stopped. It wasn't Loki that caused her insomnia in Austria. Heck, she dealt with a Loki dream in enough time to pick me up and carry me off that ship in Africa. So, what could possibly be causing her insomnia now?"

Clint looked down, thinking of the plane ride to Sokovia. Wanda had gotten her to admit that she was afraid of whatever pieces of her were leaking. If anything was keeping her awake at night, that would be it. "She's fine, Cap. Don't worry about her," he lied as he turned away.

Steve watched as Clint walked into the house. "Fine. I'll talk to her about it."

As he walked into the dining room, Cassie held up a postcard. "So, I got this a few days ago, wanted to share it with you. Postcard, no return address, it looks like it's just blank, but... run a black light over it... Bam! QR code." She pulled her phone out and scanned the invisible code. "When scanned, it brings us to a far corner of the Dark Web housing just one video."

"Merry Christmas, guys," a familiar voice called out from her cell. "From scenic all-points nowhere. As you can see, but not enough to determine my location, I'm back doing what I should always be doing. I'm helping people, I'm not hurting anyone. I haven't had an incident since Sokovia and I'm gonna keep it that way."

Cassie paused the video as Steve sat down in the empty seat next to Natasha. "Despite the next part... I've analyzed it, of course, but I'm sure some of you will want to try it yourself."

"Please, stop looking for me. I can't be an Avenger, anymore. I can't come back because then I'd have to be Him and... I can't lose control again. Please, let me be. Merry Christmas, Avengers, and have a great New Year."

Natasha reached across Clint and snatched the card away from Cassie. "Did you analyze the paper stock?"

"I wanted to leave something for you to do, Natasha. Merry Christmas," Cassie said, walking away from the table to the kitchen. She returned with the turkey platter on one arm and the ham platter on the other. Steve stood and followed her into the kitchen as she grabbed the dishes carrying the sides. He stacked what was left onto his arms and carried them to the table behind her. "Thank you, Steve. Such a gentleman."

She walked to the head of the table and smiled at everyone. "I really wanna thank you guys for coming. You know, this is first Christmas... for a couple of us, and I..." She cleared her throat as tears started to sting her eyes. "I am so blessed to have you all. I've never had a family. Phil was the closest thing... And now, I have a... feast full of people who wanted to spend the holiday with me. I finally have people to share my life with and I could not be happier."

Clint reached out and took her hand in his, stroking his thumb across the back of it, reassuringly. "Anyway, thanks. Um, let's eat," she said, picking up a carving knife and a fork and leaning forward to cut into the ham.

"What, no Grace?" Tony smirked.

"Religious dinner shall be had at a later date." As she sliced into the meat, a flash of memory hit her. A man tied to a chair as a knife sliced through his thigh. His eyes clenched tightly in pain as he ground out 'Patrick Mackenzie, SHIELD level 5'. Cassie dropped the fork to the platter, her fingers tightening around the knife handle.

"You okay?" several guests chorused.

She blinked and cleared her throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just emotional. Somebody wanna- Wanda, stay out of my head," she instructed as she set the knife down and slipped away from the table.

Phil took over cutting the ham and Clint pulled the turkey into arm's reach, as Steve excused himself and followed the hostess. He knocked, lightly, at the bathroom door. "Hey. You all right?"

"I'm fine," she croaked.

"You're crying." It was a guess, but not a particularly hard one.

"Well, it's an emotional day."

"Are you sure it's that? Are you sure this isn't more of whatever's keeping you up at night?"

"You know, I told Wanda to stay out of my head, I figured it went without saying for the rest of you."

"Come on, Cassie. Talk to me." The lock clicked and Steve pushed in, locking it back behind him. She was sitting on the sink, eyes already red and puffy. "What's wrong?"

"Me. I'm wrong." Steve stood silently and waited for her confession. "I... I'm remembering."

"And that's not a good thing?"

She shook her head. "I'm remembering Hydra. I'm remembering being Vierhundert Zweiundfünfzig. I'm remembering who I was with them. I think I hurt people, Steve, maybe even killed."

Steve placed his hand firmly on her shoulder. "Cassie, it's-"

"Don't patronize me, Steve. Don't tell me it's okay because it's not okay," she snapped.

"It's not okay. But mostly, it's not okay because of how it's affecting you." Steve reached his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, sweeping it across her cheeks. "Whatever you did when Hydra had you, that wasn't you."

"You don't understand. If... if I remember that, if I remember who I was... doesn't that make me her?"

Steve sighed, pulling her down from the sink. "I think that's a question for Doctor Garner. Have you talked to him about this?"

She shook her head. "He was on vacation and... he hasn't answered my calls since he got back. He's busy helping Phil with the whole... Inhumans thing."

"And Fury? He must know who you were when he grabbed you from Hydra. Did you try him?"

"He told me not to ask. Said I wouldn't like the answers."

"Nick's never been big on questions. Look." Steve pressed the handkerchief into her palm. "You have people, you know. What you were saying about having family... you should talk to them. If there is a group of people who knows how to deal with... bad pasts and fuzzy memories, it's us. You aren't wrong. You're perfect the way you are."

Cassie nodded and smiled, slightly. "Thanks. Let's go eat."

***********************************

As they watched everyone get into their cars, Cassie leaned her head on Clint's shoulder. She could tell by his protective and comforting stance that he knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't ask. He was great that way. "Merry Christmas, Cassie."

"Merry Christmas, Clint. You gonna stay for a couple days?"

"Of course. Long as you want me here."

"I love you. Wanna go in and call Laura, see if Barney ever showed?"

"Yeah. Come on." Clint turned and pushed her through the door.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

[aslaton8-blog]

Character Creation

I really wanted to talk about this yesterday but I was at work so all I had time for was short posts.

I woke up yesterday thinking about alien worlds. Well actually I woke up thinking about rape but on a more positive note I also thought about character creation for my story. My head is always in this negative place because there's just so much that needs to be done and it's like all I want to think about, solutions to problems. But there's no sense in overwhelming yourself with negativity... it makes one bitter after a time... so I spent the whole day avoiding negative thoughts yesterday since I stay steeped in them normally. I need that break during this time. It's Christmas Eve! I spent the last 7-8 years being extremely pessimistic about Christmas. My family ruined it for me. Now I'm trying to get that feeling back with a new baby on the way. Tradition is food for community and soul. We need it. Without it I feel so disconnected from my Society.

I remember watching this documentary but I don't remember the name of it of course cuz that's usually how it goes for me. But it was about constructing an alien world and all the different animals that would come out of it.

Oh I remember what prompted the thought now. I was thinking about chimeras. I was also thinking about the time that I saw the vision of a dragon in a church on Easter Sunday.. It felt real. I don't know if you've ever heard the songs "the shape" from Slipknot or "shape of you" from Ed Sheeran? Well that's how I would describe this dragon it was a shape or a silhouette of a dragon.

Other people were moving with its movement. Perhaps they saw something else like Jesus or God or an angel. But I saw a dragon. It reminded me of religion and how people see divinity and spiritual connectivity. They say something in their head and then immediately think that's it. If I was not an agnostic atheist, a dragon would be my God and we would still be worshiping the same God. I love it too because a dragon is a made-up creature, fitting.

The metaphor of the chimera aligns with pantheism or Hinduism too, other ideas I feel among life. I think all of these ideas are really intertwined and we always think that only one person has the answer to it and that only one religion exactly describes what God is. If God is something that complex it would take a whole world to describe it. It's something we reflect out of this world.

But what if dragons really existed? What if we are imagining a real creature? They may not exist on planet Earth but what if something just like it evolved on another planet? This is inspiring and it reminds me that I need to also come up with an ecology on these planets. I know I can't do this alone. I have a close group of friends who live for stories and we just started a writers workshop. I can't wait until the next one. I want the mental space to be able to brainstorm these characters and a writers workshop would be perfect!

I have four main characters so far. The first one is inspired by myself and one of my favorite anime characters, Lucy. Her name is Genivia. These creatures are not human. I want them to look a little more human-like so that people can relate to them but I also want them to have an alien vibe. I'm even okay with sticking to the fantasy plane. I love elves very much. All of my characters on my utopian planet, Oauvyss, are going to be elf-like. All of the characters on Avera, my hell planet, will be more human-like but I still want them to have alien features. I might give some of them horns. I've given all the plants poisonous and spiny features because all the plants have turned on their greedy animals. The people on avera can no longer harvest plants they have to live off of a kind of algae that they created in a lab. Oh I can't wait to continue working on this story. I need the mental space. For now this blog spot is a great place to meditate on these ideas at least.

The next character I created was inspired solely by link. His name is Orin which of course is inspired by The NeverEnding story. I blame link for leading me to my husband among several other forces in the world. Fantasizing about link with my ex-husband in hindsight feels like I was fantasizing about my future husband. 😂 I feel like I'm with Orin. Ryan is Orin in my world. He's my hero. 🖤🖤🖤 Orin is also becomes Genivia's lover later in the story after a war plays out between my two other main characters.

Abella was inspired by a Zelda character too. She owns a cute shop like Agitha too. Before Genivia reaches Oauvyss, neither Orin nor Abella have any knowledge of her existence so a little friendship romance starts between them. Of course when Genivia gets there she breaks it up when Orin sees all of the signs that identify her as his star-crossed love. Abella gets severely jealous and protective of Orin after that. Genivia came to Oauvyss by escaping Avera. When she arrived the demons followed her and are now manifesting in the people on this planet starting with a Abella. So in Abella's blind fear, she blames the demons on Genivia and considers them hers. But how did that happen? How did Genivia get there?

Well Genivia has a half-brother who is a chemist and is also born on Avera. He was inspired by this character, Ike. He was also inspired by my step brother, Brandon. This is a lot what Brandon looked like. I named him Jorath. Well actually that was the name that my husband came up with and I liked it so much that I kept it. Jorath's is a physics major and a chemistry nerd. He's also a bit mischievous. In my story Genivia's soul represents the Queen of the universe so her soul is pure. Joris is only her half-brother and is only a half pure soul. He will face some trials.

Genivia was stolen by the main demon inspired by Satan whom I named S'var and he forced her to be born on Avera. He wanted her to be destroyed along with the planet that he was destroying...err...well her father was destroying (one in the same). Her father is the King of Avera. He owns the entire planet including the people and resources. Jorath is born of a different mother, the King's mistress. He is considered a bastard son to the hierarchy and Genivia is considered the heir to the throne. Jorath and his father get in a major fight one day and the father threatens to rape Genivia so that she could bear a "son worth carrying the throne." After this fight Jorath escapes into the woods and disappears for a time where he thinks for a while. Eventually he comes back by sneaking Genivia out of her room and stealing a dimensional travel contraption that was invented by a team on Avera that nobody ever successfully got to work. Jorath had an epiphany and figured out how to get it to work. He stole Genivia and took her with him while trying to escape Avera and save them from their father.

Genivia successfully leave the planet in travels to another planet and she happens to land on her destined planet she was supposed to be born on. She also transforms from human to elf in order to be adapted to this planet. Jorath, however, gets stuck between dimensions and becomes a ghost. His soul was too heavy to pass through all the way. He is now stuck in an interdimensional realm that is chaotic and manic and full of color; a stark difference from where he was. When he gets here he meets a new character.

Baedra was inspired by many different things. One was a dragon one of my friends envisioned. He said that the ceiling fan above him turned into this colorful dragon and began to describe it. I tried to deliver the face that I could see as well as I could from his description plus my own interpretation of it. This dragon will have characteristics in personality of the luck dragon and the Cheshire cat and that is exactly the role that he serves for Jorath as he walks through the trials of this new realm. He stays lost for a while but this dragon helps him stay on path so that eventually he conquers and passes through to Oauvyss to be with his sister he saved. He's also going to be Abella's lover. He not only stops the conflict between Genivia and her father but he also stops the conflict between Genivia and Abella upon his arrival. So that makes him Orin's hero. I always felt bad for the heroes in the stories because I always was like well who's their hero? So I have four main protagonists now and I love them all. I can't wait for this story to develop more. 🖤🖤🖤

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian fic - “A Dalton Boy Dying to Be Used” (Rated NC17)

It's Easter Sunday, and Kurt has chosen to observe the holiday at home with his sub instead of at his club, by eating chocolate and decorating ... eggs. (1577 words)

This is another little scene to break up the tension from the last chapter to the next chapter (coming up soon). I wrote it in honor of Easter, but I felt a little sacrilege posting it yesterday, all things considered xD Dedicated to @freakingpotter, to whom my paint brush reference belongs (because she's an amazing, wonderful artist, so when I put artist specific things in a story, it's usually for her :D) because I miss her :(

Read on AO3.

“Are we staying here tonight, Master?” Sebastian asks, watching Kurt walk back in to the bedroom after being left for close to an hour unattended. Sebastian didn’t misbehave. He wouldn’t dream of it, and not just because he couldn’t move, bound on his back on the bed. Obedience is the road to reward in Kurt’s house, and reward is usually Kurt. Besides, Sebastian can’t assume that just because Kurt’s not in the room with him that he doesn’t know what Sebastian is up to.

Kurt has an uncanny sixth sense when it comes to Sebastian, which leads Sebastian to believe that Kurt has a nanny cam or two set up where Sebastian has yet to find them.

Kurt had left Sebastian tied to his bed comfortably, the way he does whenever they’re about to partake in a more sensual session – silk scarves wrapped around his wrists and threaded underneath the mattress, pulling his arms out to his sides; ankles cuffed in fur-lined leather on the opposite end, keeping his legs spread. Kurt eliminates discomfort and forgoes the use of pain so that Sebastian can concentrate on absorbing pure, rapturous pleasure … and not respond to it.

Scenes like this are some of the hardest for Sebastian to handle because they skirt the boundaries of emotion. They’re psychologically taxing, straddling a border between Sebastian acting as an object, a mere receptacle, and being a lover. Kurt lavishes Sebastian with attention that shadows lovemaking – gentle caresses, tender kisses, and selfless body worship. Sebastian isn’t required to wear a blindfold or a gag. He is encouraged to watch Kurt work. He has permission to talk and moan, unless those privileges are specifically taken away, but the trade-off is that he doesn’t get to touch or kiss.

And he isn’t allowed to cum.

“We are, preppy,” Kurt answers, kicking the door shut behind him. Sebastian finds it odd and unnecessary that Kurt would do that, seeing as they’re in his house alone, but it’s a ritual for Kurt – a way to lock them inside their own little world, a space where ex-boyfriends and ex-lovers, work stress and school strife, have no place. It’s symbolic, the way almost everything with Kurt is steeped in symbolism, from his clothes to his décor to his intricate tattoos.

“But … don’t you need to be at the club? Don’t you have something special planned for Easter, Master?” Sebastian knows that Kurt usually spends his holidays at his club, and that he plans special theme events for his customers. Kurt’s club is more his home than his actual house is, and his regulars are like his family. Kurt is never alone when he’s at his club. There’s always someone available to fill his voids when he needs them filled. But since Kurt met Sebastian, they’ve spent the holidays together. Sebastian likes that. He likes the intimacy of having his Dom all to himself. Here in Kurt’s house, Sebastian doesn’t feel the pressure of having to act like the perfect submissive in front of anyone. He’s just Kurt’s sub here, in the most comfortable, erotic, and personal atmosphere imaginable … and he doesn’t have to fight for Kurt’s attention.

Though he has to less and less now. Kurt has developed a singular focus when Sebastian’s around, and that’s Sebastian.

That may mean that Sebastian undergoes more vigorous sessions, more inventive methods of fulfilling Kurt’s sadistic needs, but Sebastian’s not complaining.

Kurt extinguishes his clove in the purple ashtray on his bedside table before he climbs up onto the bed. With both hands occupied, his legs and abs do all of the work balancing his weight. Watching Kurt’s toned stomach clench above the waistband of his black lounge pants, the effort accentuating his six-pack, makes Sebastian, bound and immobile, salivate. It would be the greatest reward in the world to lick Kurt’s abs, nose his waistband down over his hips and work his mouth over his Dom’s cock.

But Sebastian knows that if he wants Kurt’s cock, he’s going to have to earn it.

“Yeah, we do, but it’s not my turn to wear the bunny costume this year.”

Sebastian has to bite his tongue hard not to snicker at the image his brain produces of Kurt dressed like a rough trade Easter Bunny, with a carrot-shaped dildo clutched in his furry-gloved hand, and a clove cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth. But then, Kurt dressed in silky white panties, and wearing leather chaps along with fluffy ears and a tail, black kohl eyeliner, dark red lipstick, and a spiked collar around his neck … that would be something to see.

“Besides, handing out candy and hiding eggs are the kinds of things that littles like to do, and I’m not really down for that. Elliott’s much better at coordinating that crap than I am. I’d much rather celebrate at home.”

“Celebrate? But I thought you were an atheist, Master.”

“You don’t have to be religious to eat chocolate and paint eggs, preppy. You just have to be creative …” Kurt pauses, chills zipping down Sebastian’s spine with a flash of Kurt’s signature Grinch-like grin - the corners of his mouth curling up his cheeks while his brows draw together in the middle “… and inspired.”

Sebastian watches Kurt crawl between his legs carrying a palette of paints in his right hand, a paint brush and a towel in his left, but not a single egg in sight.

“Wh-what eggs, Master?” Sebastian asks, afraid that “eggs” might be a code they haven’t discussed yet.

Kurt’s face darkens, the kiss he blows signifying that something deliciously devious is about to begin.

“Yours, preppy,” he says, nudging Sebastian’s balls with his knee. Kurt puts his palette down carefully between Sebastian’s thighs and lays his towel over his sub’s left knee. The brush, he keeps. He holds it between his thumb and his fingertips, holding it up for Sebastian to see. “Today we’ll be using a Da Vinci Maestro Round Brush, size 16, with bristles of Siberian Kolinsky Red Sable fur.”

Sebastian nods as if any of that meant anything to him. He’s never taken an art class. The last time he tried his hand at painting a picture, he was using a Crayola watercolor set, and he was maybe ten years old. But Sebastian goes completely speechless at the mention of sable. One of his mother’s favorite coats while Sebastian was growing up was made of sable. Sebastian had a kind of creepy love affair with petting the damned thing behind his mother’s back (which means, ironically, that Sebastian spent a great deal of his formative years in a literal closet). Sable is one of the softest materials Sebastian can imagine touching his skin, aside from Kurt’s own magnificent tongue.

And if Kurt is implying what Sebastian knows he’s implying, he’s going to be painting Sebastian’s junk with it.

Kurt scoops up a dollop of bright pink paint onto his bristles and lowers the brush slowly to Sebastian’s crotch, while Sebastian’s eyes, wide and unblinking, follow his every move. With the lightest touch, Kurt swirls the bristles over the head of Sebastian’s cock, covering it completely in pink paint, then outlines the ridge. Sebastian swallows hard as Kurt strokes, fighting not to close his eyes at the delectable tickle of his delicate swipes.

“We’ll get you all decorated from abs to anus, then we’ll take some photographs,” Kurt mutters. He wipes excess paint off on the towel, then switches to green, and paints a stem and leaves down Sebastian’s shaft to go with his now pink tulip head. Sebastian imagines the tip of that brush circling his entrance the second Kurt suggests it, wet like Kurt’s tongue but cold, the stiff but soft point of the bristles dancing inside. His cock bobs without permission, blurring the line Kurt was creating, but Kurt doesn’t look upset by it. He looks pleased. Every bob, every pearl of pre-cum leaking from the tip, is a strike against Sebastian – another golden opportunity for punishment. Kurt licks his lips as he changes colors, and starts a line of smaller, red flowers down Sebastian’s shaft over the drying green paint. “Mmm, I absolutely adore this body paint, preppy. It’s one of my favorites. You have no idea.”

“A-and why’s that, Master?” Sebastian asks, stuttering when Kurt’s brush dips down and around, glancing ever so gently behind his balls. Sebastian is thankful he has permission to talk. He needs the conversation to keep his attention away from what Kurt’s doing. If he wants to last, he needs to start thinking of something other than this implement that feels too much like a tongue stroking his skin.

But Kurt knows. He knows what Sebastian’s small talk means. He can appreciate coping mechanisms. Everyone has them, even the great Kurt Hummel.

But Kurt doesn’t like easy ways out. That he considers cheating.

Kurt winks at Sebastian while making another blind stroke along the base of his sub’s cock, one that finally drags the moan that’s been building in Sebastian’s throat past his lips.

“Because it’s made of chocolate,” Kurt says, “which means it’s edible.” Kurt chuckles when Sebastian swallows again, and an actual, “Oh God,” takes the place of the second moan in his throat. If Sebastian can’t stand strong against a paint brush, what will he do against Kurt’s talented tongue, especially when he’s not allowed to cum? “And I do love me some chocolate.”

[aventuramexicana]

Semana Santa (Parents Visit)

I am quite fortunate in many aspects of my life. For example, I have a great deal of supportive family and friends. Sometimes those people are also fortunate to have me in their lives, as an excuse to go on vacation 😉

Point is: my parents came to visit me for Semana Santa. 

April 11 (Tuesday)- My parents and I met up at the Mexico City Airport and all caught a flight to Oaxaca City together. 

Once we landed, we caught a colectivo to Villa Maria, where Maria was anxiously awaiting our arrival. It was really cool to be able to introduce my parents to her. Maria had already told me several times that she was so excited to meet them, and she was very warm and affectionate toward me, as always. I really had missed her quite a lot. She’s such a little (approximately 4’10”) fireball, and I love it. 

Anyway, once Maria had given us a tour of the apartment where we would be staying (a two-bedroom, unlike the one-bedroom I previously rented), we set out to get some food. As the one leading the charge, I took us directly to Expendio Tradición.  After all, it’s my favorite and I was craving their esquite soup. 

April 12 (Wednesday)- 

We all went to Pan Am for brunch, and I thoroughly enjoyed my vegetarian sandwich on ciabatta. I have no idea what my parents ate, my attention was strictly on my own plate. Next up, we ambled over to Plaza Santa Domingo, took a photo with the Oaxaca sign, and did some shopping. The sign itself actually stirred up a bit of controversy within the city, mostly among locals who think it’s an eyesore, particularly as it sits in front of such a beautiful building with religious and historical significance. Honestly, I don’t know exactly where I fall in that debate. Sure, it kinda takes away from the majesty of Templo de Santo Domingo, but as an atheist I’m not overly inclined to swoon over religious structures.

In the evening we ate dinner at Zandunga, where I ordered enmoladas, and my dad tried Mezcal for the first time. The waiter brought over salt and fruit and things to accompany the mezcal, probably anticipating that my dad would need something to cut the flavor. I found it charming but my dad’s reaction seemed to suggest that he found it a little patronizing. Like maybe the waiter thought he’d never tried hard alcohol before or something. 

April 13 (Thursday)- I accompanied my parents on the same all-day tour that I had taken with Sarah and Julia when they were in town. I hope that my parents enjoyed it. Honestly, it wasn’t such a good day for me, because in the process of switching my things from one purse to another I managed to leave my migraine medication behind. That alone would be concerning, but I felt a hormone-induced migraine coming on before we’d even really made it out of town. Anyway, the first stop on the trip was Arbol de Tulé again, which, as we have discussed before, I find to be fairly overrated. Next stop: the mezcal factory. This stop was another that did little for me, as a non-drinker, and someone who’d already learned how mezcal was made. But it was fine, and maybe even sorta fun for my parents. At least I got to take a photo with a couple of new friends.

Then we were on to the rug making factory which, while repetitive to me, is one part of the tour that I really enjoyed. But then of course I did; I love shopping even when I don’t buy anything. 

From there we went to Mitla, which was a zoo. Not an actual zoo with animals, no. I’m still talking about the archeological site, however, given that it was Semana Santa, the whole place was crawling with people. It was a little disappointing because it’s hard to really enjoy or even get a sense of how impressive it must have once been, when your mind is preoccupied with thoughts about overpopulation. Finally, it was lunch time, and I didn’t waste any time loading up my plate with quesadillas, rice, and mole negro. It was delicious and would have been even more delightful if not for my brain feeling like it was in a vice. Now, I admit, recently a few people have told me that going vegan helped with their migraines. So perhaps I shouldn’t have been loading up my plate with quesadillas, but you know what? When you’re in that much pain, you want to eat whatever makes your stomach feel happy. It might not make sense to you, hypothetical person who is not afflicted with migraines, but it doesn’t have to. 

Last stop was Hierve el Agua. Fortunately, I had remembered to pack Dramamine, so I popped one of those and slept on the ride up to there. Once we arrived I put on a happy face and set out to take the perfect photo. And guess what? More bullshit. They had emptied the second/lower pool. I think my parents mostly enjoyed it, but it made me really sad that they didn’t get to see it in all of its glory, the way I had seen it with Sarah and Julia. Still, we got a couple of cute photos, mostly due to my mom’s patience and positive attitude about the whole thing. 

April 14 (Good Friday)-

In the morning my parents went out in search of coffee while I set out to go to the immigration office, in the hopes of recovering some information that I might need to get a replacement temporary residency visa card. Silly me didn’t even think through that I was trying to do this on Good Friday, in a Catholic country, no less. The office was closed. I headed back to Villa Maria, and packed up a bunch of my things and panicked over how much I would or wouldn’t be able to bring back with me to Oaxaca. In the process of looking for one of the staff members to offer him some stuff, I ran into my former neighbor. She’s great and offered me the number of a local lawyer who often helps out with immigration issues.  Which was great. It was such a relief to me to feel like I had some sort of lead. I met up with my parents for lunch at Pan Am (again), and once I’d communicated briefly with the lawyer via WhatsApp, I was largely able to put my stress aside. It was a relief to be able to let that go and enjoy wandering around the city with my parents until my dad grew tired of all of the stops that we were making to look at clothes, and it was back to shopping with my mom. 

We got this one really cute photo of my mom posed with a giant statue called El Pescador (The Fisherman). I’ll include the one of myself with the statue to, but my mom’s photo is way cuter.

It was our last day there so in the evening I took my parents to Biznaga, which was a couple of my neighbors’ favorite restaurant, and the one that they took me to when we all said goodbye. There was a bit of a wait because the city was packed with people, but we finally got to sit and eat in their big beautiful courtyard, and it was really lovely. 

April 15 (Saturday)- 

In the morning we flew to Mexico City and then went to Belmondo for brunch. I had french toast, which was super delicious. I’m obsessed with handicrafts and artisanal work so I follow some artists on Instagram and knew that there was a bazaar in the neighborhood. After brunch, we all went to check that out, and my dad quickly bailed on the activity. Understandably. I did not get my shopping gene from him. 

For dinner, we went to Soul La Roma. I had a “veggie” burger, except that the pattie was made primarily of platano. I don’t know quite how to describe it, except to say that it’s delicious. Then for dessert, we shared three flavors of ice cream: vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate. 

April 16 (Easter Sunday)- My mom and I went back to that same bazaar so that she could get herself a jacket similar to the one that she had generously bought for me on Saturday. After admiring it for a while she decided she just needed to get one for herself. And of course, I’m not the person you want around if you’re hoping to be talked out of buying something. Especially something like that. I’m bound to say, “It’s art! Where would you find that in the States!? Even if you did, it would cost three times as much!” 

We went back to Belmondo, since it was so conveniently located in relation to both my parents’ hotel and the bazaar, and we had lunch this time. My mom and I both ordered the same thing: a grilled cheese sandwich with grilled onions. It was glorious, and my dad could hardly stand to watch us eat because he is so repulsed by cheese. HA. 

I showed my parents where I live, which I think is cute, but isn’t really much to show. I’m in a hostel and my room is technically on the roof. We have a shared rooftop patio and from my room, I have my own door to a small balcony. I told my parents that there wouldn’t be much for them to see but they were insistent. I don’t know, maybe they just wanted to be sure I wasn’t living in a crack den.

Anyway, I was really tired from staying up late hanging out with my neighbors the night before, so I called it a day with my parents. They headed back to their hotel, and I had a lazy evening, eating pizza and watching the newest season of Sherlock. 

April 17 (Monday)- It was the last full day of my parents' visit, and we’d been hoping to go to the Museo Nacional de Antropologia, but I was clearly not in-the-know, and hadn’t picked up on the fact that most museums are closed on Mondays. Shucks. 

So instead my parents and I went on quite a significant walk to Parque México and around Condesa, looking at all of the pretty buildings and things. I read somewhere that Condesa is the "Paris of Mexico". Which is a title that mostly grosses me out, in the sense that I think Mexico is beautiful in its own right and doesn’t need to be compared to anywhere in Europe, but it does help to paint a picture. 

We ate at Cafebrería, which is exactly what it sounds like: combination cafe and librería (book store). I’d been there once before with a friend so I was familiar with the place, but my sense of direction is pathetic, and things aren’t always updated clearly online, so I admit that it took some doing to find it. Afterward, I had a headache coming on so I went home to take a nap and rest. Which was a bummer, considering it was my parents’ last day. 

In the evening, I met up with my parents at their hotel and we talked about the results of the Boston Marathon as I walked with them over to Pan Comido. I felt like out of all of the places that we had stopped in Mexico City, this was the best reflection of what my life is usually like here. The restaurant is really tiny, generally pretty busy but with a calm atmosphere, and it’s one of my favorite places to go. Not to mention the cookie spot next door. I could eat those lime cookies every day for the rest of my life and never tire of them. 

After dinner, we said goodbye, which of course was a little sad, but I know that at least my mom will be coming back before long. She cannot be kept away 😉