#was watching the new york parade at my grandparents’

[thewandererh]

huh

[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 17

word count: 2787

no warnings (:

cross posted on wattpad

masterlist

leave me all your thoughts!

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Austin wakes up to the smell of fresh homemade snickerdoodle cookies coming from the kitchen.

"Hey Vic, what's all this?" he asks, walking into the kitchen with just his grey sweats on.

"Oh hey- 

Victoria gets caught off guard, not expecting him to walk in & walk in wearing what he's wearing.

"I'm just making cookies to take over to your sister's later. I hope that's alright. I just want to make a good first impression on your family." she finishes.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'm sure they'll really appreciate it."

"I would have made a pie, but it was such short notice that I was joining you so cookies it is."

"You know, you didn't have to make anything. It's not like you're my girlfriend & you really have people to impress."

"Yeah, but I am your baby mama, so I do need to make a good impression. Your family is about to become my family in some way."

"I guess that's true. Watching the parade?" Austin looks over to the TV from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for the Rockette's to come on. I've always loved them and it's a dream of mine to go."

"Weeeellll, I am hosting Saturday Night Live next month, so maybe you can come with me to New York & I'll take you."

"You'd do that?" Vic asks in awe.

"Yeah, of course." Austin smiles. "I'd love to. Consider it your Christmas present from me."

"That would be amazing, Aus. Thank you." she hugs him. 

Austin feels butterflies in his stomach as she squeezes him tight. 

"Can Ashton come too?" Victoria asks, making those butterflies disappear.

"Sure. The more the marrier." 

It's definitely not what Austin had in mind, but he knows it'll be easier to let him tag along.

"We can probably go that Sunday night after SNL. I'll be in rehearsals all that week." Austin mentions. "I'll look into tickets for us, and I'll see if Ashley wants to go too."

"Ashley is your sister, right?"

"Yeah. She's going to SNL to see me host. She's really my biggest supporter."

"Even more so than your dad?"

"Yeah, I would say so. Don't get me wrong, our dad is very supportive of me, but I think Ashley is just a tad more supportive."

"Do you think your family will like me?" Victoria asks him.

"I think so. I don't see why they wouldn't."

"So, who's all going to be there?"

"My dad, his parents, Grandpa Michael & Grandma Linda, Ashley & her husband Tony, my mom's mom, Grandma Karen, then my Aunt Hilary & her boys, which are on my mom's side."

"What about your grandpa on your mom's side?"

"He passed a few years ago."

"Oh, Aus. I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Thanks, Vic. I was able to say goodbye thankfully."

"I'm glad you we're able to. I was stuck here during the pandemic when my grandma passed back home in New Zealand. She was already battling cancer, then she got hit with Covid, so her body just completely gave out. I had plans to go see her too that year, but of course it all got canceled."

"Damn. That's rough. I'm sorry."

"Thanks. I went back last year. It was weird going to the cemetery to visit her & not to her house."

"I bet."

"I'm so nervous to meet your family. Like what if they don't support our situation?"

"If they don't, they don't. This baby is ours, whether they like it or not."

"Okay."

"If they don't support, it'll be okay. I know my family, and once they meet our cute little baby girl, they'll get over it."

"You did tell your family about the baby, right?"

"Yeah. Well, I told my dad & Ashley. I think my grandparents and aunt know."

"Okay, good. I don't want to go in there with this baby bump and have them freak out."

"Did you tell your family?"

There's a silence from Victoria after Austin's question.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" he asks.

"Nooo, I haven't. I just know my mom is going to flip because I'm having a baby out of wedlock, even though she had my two oldest brothers while in high school."

"You have to tell them, Vic."

"I know, I know. I will soon because I have to break it to them that I won't be going home for Christmas."

"Invite them here."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! We can do a joint family thing here. Our families meet, I meet yours."

"I don't know, Aus. That would be a lot of people & I don't know how my mom will act. She can be so nosy when it comes to my relationships with men."

"But we're not in a relationship."

"But we're in some sort of situationship, so."

"I think it'll be fine. They'll meet eventually anyways. They're all related to our daughter."

"You're right. I'll talk to my mom about it."

"Good. How many siblings do you have, anyways?"

"Three older brothers, and one older sister."

"Aw, you're the baby of the family just like me."

"Mhm. There's fourteen years between my sister and I."

"Damn, so really the baby."

"Yep."

The oven beeps and Victoria takes the last pan of cookies out of the oven.

"Can I have one?" Austin asks, gearing towards the cookies that are on the cooling racks.

"Yeah, go for it. I'm sure there will be extra anyways. Also, I want to know if they're good before taking them over there." Vic replies. "I haven't baked in a while."

"Holy shit, these are really good!" Austin says after taking a bite.

"Really? You think so?"

"I really do think so. They're great, Vic. I didn't know you could bake."

"Yeah, I've always loved to bake things like cookies, cake, brownies, etcetera."

"A reason why you're going to be a great mom."

"Because I can bake?"

"Yeah, I feel like all great moms can bake. I mean, mine could."

"Thanks, Aus. That's really sweet."

"Of course, babe."

"Babe?"

"Sorry, habit. Didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay." she gives him a puzzled look.

The sound of the reporters of the parade come from the other room, announcing that the Rockette's will be up next.

Victoria scurries into the living room and sits down on the couch so she won't miss anything. Austin chuckles and smiles to himself at how cute it is that she's so excited to see the Rockette's on TV.

Austin joins her on the couch to watch. He fights the urge to put his arm around her shoulders. He wants to so bad, but that would be breaking boundaries.

In the middle of watching the performance, Victoria gasps and feels tears start to form.

"Aus...." she says to him. 

"What??" he asks confused.

"Oh my god..."

"What? What's wrong??"

"The baby just kicked..."

"She what?!"

"She just kicked! Wait, she's kicking again!" Victoria grabs his hand and places it on her belly where the baby is kicking. "Do you feel her?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." Austin responds as his eyes swell with tears, and he smiles wide.

"Wow, that's something I never thought I'd ever get to feel. This is so incredible."

"I know. I've never felt a baby kick before. I mean, makes sense as I've never been around someone who was pregnant before. I bet it feels so weird on the inside."

"It does, but also amazing at the same time. It really feels like I'm pregnant now, actually feeling her inside me. I felt flutters before but this is just...woah."

"I'm never going to get over the fact that we're going to be parents."

"Neither will I. I prepared myself to not being able to carry, but actually getting a chance to with my chances being so low, is just something I will always be grateful for."

"I know this isn't the ideal situation you wanted to have a baby in, and I know I'm the last person you wanted as your baby daddy, but I'm glad it worked out this way. I couldn't ask for a better parenting partner. And I hope you know I will forever take care of you & our daughter for the rest of my life, even if we aren't on the best terms."

"Thanks, Austin. That really means a lot. And yeah, I wasn't ever picturing having a baby with you, but I'm glad it's with someone I can trust."

"You trust me? Never thought I'd hear that from you after what I did."

"It took me awhile, but yes, I trust you. Eliana on the other hand..."

"Yeah, no one trusts her." he laughs. "But I'm glad I've been able to earn your trust back."

"Me too." she smiles.

Hours have passed and the two of them headed over to Austin's sister, Ashley's house.

"Hey! Happy Thanksgiving!" Ashley greets Austin opening the door for them. 

"Hey Ash! Happy Thanksgiving!"

The siblings share a hug before Austin introduces Victoria to his family.

"Ashley, this is my friend & co-parenting partner? I don't know how else to say it, but um, this is Victoria. Vic, this is my sister, Ashley." Austin introduces them.

"Hi! It's so nice to meet you finally!" Ashley greets Victoria with open arms.

"It's nice to meet you, too!" Victoria responds.

Austin goes around the house introducing Victoria to everyone else.

"Vic, this is my dad, David. Dad, this is Victoria." 

"Nice to meet you, sir." Victoria shakes his hand politely.

"Nice to meet you too, Victoria. And please, call me David."

"Got it, David it is."

Victoria also met his grandparents, aunt, cousins, and brother-in-law.

She went into the kitchen and set the cookies she made onto the counter. 

"It smells great in here. Do you need help with anything?" Vic asks Ashley as she's basting the turkey.

"Uh, yeah! If you want, you can peel potatoes for the mashed potatoes! The potatoes are in the fridge & the peeler is in the third drawer to the left." she replies.

"I will get on it!" 

As Ashley, Victoria, and Aunt Hilary get dinner finished up in the kitchen, Austin is sitting in the living room with his grandparents & dad, watching football.

"Austin, how did you meet Victoria again?" Grandma Linda asks.

"We just filmed a movie together over the summer." Austin answers.

"Oh, that's right. Weren't you with that Hispanic girl?"

"Yeah, but we broke up."

"You sure moved on fast then, dear."

"Linda, they aren't together." Grandpa Michael tells her.

"They're not??" she asks.

"No."

"Then how'd she get pregnant?"

"We, uh, hooked up, Grandma." Austin says.

"Oh..." Grandma Linda says disappointed.

The room was silent until the team they're rooting for scored, and everyone cheered.

"Austin, help me set the table?" Vic pops her head into the living room.

"Yeah." he responds.

They go into the dining room and start setting the table.

"I think Grandma Linda, and everyone else is disappointed in our situation. Well, at least everyone in the living room." Austin says to Vic.

"Why do you say that?" she asks.

"Because Grandma asked how we met, and then she asked if I was with Eliana, and I told her we broke up, said I moved on fast, Grandpa had to remind her we aren't together, and then she asked how you got pregnant, and I told her we hooked up and the room went dead silent. I could tell she was disappointed that we aren't together & having a baby."

"I had a feeling someone would be disappointed & not super supportive."

"Yeah, well, they're older and traditional. What should we expect?"

"That's true."

Not long after the table was set, dinner was ready & everyone sat down to eat.

Of course, Victoria told her life story to his family after being asked where she came from, how she got to into acting, when she moved to the US, etc.

Austin played catch up with his family, giving all the details on the Elvis press tour, filming the new movie, and his other upcoming projects.

Eventually, it came down for them to answer the real questions.

"So, you two are going to raise this baby together?" David asks.

"Yes, we're going to co-parent." Austin responds.

"Victoria lives with you now, right?"

"Yeah, I moved in not long ago. It's been a lot easier on us with appointments & milestones. Like today, we both felt the baby kick for the first time." Vic smiles. Her reply gets smiles & awes from everyone around the table.

"And no wedding for you two?" Grandma Karen asks.

"No, no wedding. We're not together, we're just two friends having a baby together after a one-time thing happened. Victoria is seeing someone, and he's okay with what's going on." Austin answers.

"If you don't mind me asking, what made you decide to keep the baby?" David asks Vic.

"I've been told a few times before that it may be almost impossible for me to conceive, like my chances of getting pregnant we're very low. Since I was able to conceive, I decided that I wanted to do this, whether Austin was going to be apart of this or not. I didn't want to go the abortion or adoption route and give up my chances of being a mom in the future. I'll be super lucky if I ever get to conceive again."

"Oh, Vic. I'm so sorry to hear that you have fertility issues like that." Ashley says sympathetically.

"Thank you. When I first found out, I sobbed. I've always dreamt of having kids of my own someday, and that news just shattered me. It's definitely not how I wanted having a baby to go, but Austin has been so supportive, and just has been the greatest. David, you & Lori really raised Austin right." 

David gets choked up a bit, "Thank you, Victoria. That means a lot."

Austin got a little choked up too. "Thanks, Vic." he smiles at her.

"Of course."

Now that everyone is more aware of what's going on, during desert, everyone has loosened up and is really warming up to Victoria & the idea of her and Austin co-parenting.

"These cookies are so good, Victoria! You have to give me the recipe!" Ashley says to her.

"Thank you! We can exchange numbers and I'll send it to you."

"Sounds perfect!"

After everyone was full from dinner and sweets, they all relaxed a bit in the living room. Ashley had pulled out her photo box which contains many photos of her and Austin when they were kids. 

"Oh, look at this one! Here's Austin as a baby in the bathtub!" Ashley pulls it out of the box and hands it to Victoria. 

Austin blushes & covers his face, being shy and embarrassed.

"Aw, Aus don't be embarrassed! Look how cute you we're!" Vic says to him. "And it's not like I haven't seen you naked before." she jokes.

Victoria's joke made Austin shift in his seat, thinking back to the time where she did see him in the nude.

After awhile, Vic and Austin said they're goodbyes. Austin could really tell that his family really warmed up to Vic & just fell in love with her. They all gave her such big hugs goodbye & wished to see her soon. 

On the way home...

"I think they really liked you, Vic." Austin says.

"You think?"

"Yeah, I think so. Seems like they really got used to the situation pretty quickly, and seem okay with it."

"Definitely. You're family is really sweet, Austin. Ashley invited me to go shopping with her tomorrow. I told her we had plans to go, but we can join her."

"Oh yeah, she mentioned to me that she talked to you about that. We can go with her for sure. I'm glad you two get along really well."

"Me too."

Once they got home, Vic goes into her room and starts getting ready to check out for the night.

On his way to his bedroom, Austin stops in to her room.

"Hey, is there anything you need or anything I can do for you before we go to bed for the night?" he asks.

"No, I'm okay. Thanks though."

"Okay. I'm happy to help if you ever need anything. Just want to help you in anyway I can."

"I know. Thank you, Aus."

"Love you, too." he says kinda quickly and quietly, on his way out of her room.

It was silent for a second before Austin realized what he said. 

"Oh! I'm sorry, I-

"What did you say?" she asks him.

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh, okay."

"Goodnight."

And with that, Austin runs to room, saying "Shit, shit, shit." to himself. "I have to move on..."

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[stellaluna33]

To add onto the Logan and Rory's birthday post, a lot of what his fans get so so wrong about the whole scene where Jess confronts Rory over Yale is because they solely focus on one line, which coincidentally, as you've mentioned before, doesn't have to mean that Jess is the ONLY person that knows Rory well? Despite the fact that one could easily argue that out of all the guys Rory dated, Jess was the first that got to know of her rebellious side more because she willingly went to New York to see him on a school day, but anyway. It could easily be interpreted as him saying that out of all the people he knows, she's the one he thinks he knows better than the rest. But getting back to my point, after he says this line, he brings up a bunch of stuff that is so obviously not like Rory, and it doesn't even have anything to do with Logan's lifestyle. It directly has to do with Rory's and how she's not even happy about any of it. And he specifically brings up living in her grandparents' place and being in the DAR before he even brings up Yale, which are two things that a) Rory has never expressed any personal interest in, because she's always lived with her mother and has wanted it to be as such because of their close bond, and b) even while at Chilton and the closer relationship she had with her grandparents, she was never into the DAR or parading around older rich people. Even in season 6 where Logan fans are so desperate to prove that she actually likes it, it's clear in the first couple of episodes alone that she's using it as a form of distraction from the fact that she looks and feels pretty lost. It's why even her freak out over Mitchum being at the DAR gathering was so significant, because it's not just her "taking time off from school". It's her feeling obviously hurt and lost and not being sure of herself or even her capability of facing the man who, from her perspective, crushed all her dreams and aspirations.

Yeah. Having just watched this first section of Season 6, it was fairly obvious how lost and unhappy she was feeling. Which isn't to say that she NEVER had fun. She was trying to make the best of things and distract herself by keeping busy with the DAR and with Logan, but then the camera would linger on her face looking all hollow-eyed and desolate. It was fairly clear what they were trying to show there. And the way Rory looked so bored and fed-up while Logan and his friends drank themselves into oblivion at the beginning of "Balalaikas" made it pretty obvious that the novelty had officially worn off. And the way her "new friends" Rosemary and Juliet (I think?) just left her to wrangle all the drunk guys all by herself while they heckled from the sidelines and then basically went, "LOL have fun!" as they left her ALONE... Yeah. What a blast. What great new friendships.

If the circumstances had been different, her taking time off to reevaluate her direction in life wouldn't necessarily have been a bad thing. But that wasn't the story the writers were trying to tell here. Watching her in "The Prodigal Daughter Returns" tonight was like seeing her come back to life again, and I MISSED her!

[adarafaelbarba]

I love you in Norwegian

pairing: Sonny Carisi x Reader

summary: Sonny dating a Norwegian.

warning: none.

a/n: (y/c) = your city (for the bunad). I kiiiiiiinda based how they shut down the whole inner city and the parade stuff off of how we do our Constitutional day in Bergen (no one does May 17th like Bergen).

a/n 2: This is an old HC I’ve pulled from my blog, that I’ve decided to change up a bit 😅 (just in case people think it’s plagiarism 😅 ) - Karen

style: headcanon

The first time Sonny heard you speak Norwegian (you were probably talking to your parents or something) he was gobsmacked.

Like he had no idea you spoke another language so fluently.

He could have sworn you were full blown American by your accent.

But he was mesmerized by how you spoke.

He would most likely corner you as soon as you finished the phone call and ask you what language that was.

Because he had no idea you were Norwegian.

You were living in New York, and never really talked about home.

So he wasn’t really going to press you about it.

«Babe, why’s it a big deal? It’s just Norwegian. It’s nothing special about it» you would shrug.

«You could talk Klingon and it would still sound sexy coming out of your mouth.»

After that day he started learning a few words in Norwegian.

He wanted you to feel comfortable with your mother tongue.

You were a bit hesitant at first

But soon enough you would warm up to it.

Like you would come home after work or being out with friends

and he would be there waiting.

«Hei elskling. Hvordan var dagen din?»

«It was wonderful my love. How was your day?»

It would be a though process learning the language for him

but as long as he knew what you were saying, so he knew how to respond to them, he would get there.

On the first Constitutional day after he found out you were Norwegian, you were both invited back to your home town to celebrate.

And ho boy let me tell you!

He was stunned.

Not just by the atmosphere around town.

Oh no!

the whole inner city was closed off.

people were lining the streets by the thousands

some wearing gorgeous dresses/suits.

Others wearing normal dresses/suits.

You had on your own national costume.

A gorgeous (y/c) bunad

He was stunned by how gorgeous you looked in the dress.

So he would stare at you as much as he could.

But also at everything going on in the city.

You could hardly see the city for all the people!

«We’re doing this EVERY year!» he stated, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood there watching the spectacle that was the May 17th parade.

After watching the parade you went back to your parents’ house for food.

We’re talking Rømmegrøt (sour cream porridge. I swear it tastes better than it sounds!), cured meat, pavlova cake, strawberries, ice cream.

More food than needed.

And he’s just in awe!

Let’s face it

You had either flown in the night before

or earlier that morning.

So you had eaten a proper May 17th breakfast/brunch before heading out to watch the parade.

Which is why Sonny was surprised when there was even more food.

Not to mention the ice cream the two of you had eaten before while watching the parade.

«How can you eat this much?!»

«We’re not eating all of this, just the four of us!» You laughed

just as the door opened and in flocked aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, and grandparents, plus your siblings.

All ready to dig into the food your parents had prepared.

Seeing how you were with your nieces, nephews and younger cousins all wearing their bunad, Sonny fell more in love with you, and could not wait to start a family with you.

He was determined that he would know the best of three worlds.

The English that he shared with you, the Italian he shared with his family, and the Norwegian you shared with yours.

And like he promised, you celebrated the Constitutional Day every year.

You children getting a Bunad each when they were born, getting a new one if the old one didn’t fit anymore

Your son would have to get hand-me-downs from his cousins (and your youngest cousins) because that boy grew faster than weeds in a garden.

While your daughter would get the same type of bunad that you had.

Even Sonny got a bunad, which your grandmother made him, and he was so proud of it.

But he never dared to bring it back to New York, so it just hung in the closet of your old room back home, with the bunads for you and the kids.

~~~~

taglist: @detective-giggles​ @outlawsassemblerh​​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @dreamlover31​​ @dianilaws​ @meri-dawn​ @storiesofsvu​ @permanentlydizzy @welcometothemadxxhouse @cycat4077​ @incomplete-coincidence​ @kriegsverlobte​ @rafaheadcanons​ @rafivadafreddy​ @teamsladsandgents​ @beccabarba​ @mrsrafaelbarba​ @stardust-fray​ @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @infiniteoddball​ @averyhotchner @thatesqcrush @amelia-song-pond​ @prurientpuddlejumper​ @naniky

[isaiahrivera]

Ny Journal

Growing up, it was always difficult for me to assign myself to one culture. My mother and her side are Guatemalan and my father and his side are Puerto Rican. I’ve always lived with my mother since birth so I was exposed to more of my Guatemalan culture and heritage. However when I was young I had a stronger relationship with my father so I wanted to be more Puerto Rican. Throughout the years, when people ask me where my country of origin is, I say Puerto Rican. My response tends to be without hesitation and after I say I am also Guatemalan. I’ve never known why I’ve leaned towards my Puerto Rican side more than my Guatemalan side but that’s how it’s always been. My friends tend to only remember me being Puerto Rican, only my closest friends know both of the countries. Maybe it’s due to the fact Guatemala isn’t really known, maybe I am embarrassed to say I am Guatemalan, maybe I identify myself as just Puerto Rican. I haven’t really answered that question yet, what I do know if every time I mention that I am Guatemalan, it’s a different response then when I say I’m Puerto Rican. Most of the time the responses are, “that’s a weird mix”, “ I never heard about that mix before”, “Guatemalan, I would have never guessed”, the list goes on. Being exposed to two different cultures whose only similarity is Spanish was a challenge. Both sides had different food, danced to different music, watched and played different sports, and spoke Spanish differently. My assumption is that what I liked and what I did related more to my Puerto Rican heritage rather than my Guatemalan. However throughout the years, I’ve learned to accept both cultures for what they are and take the best of both and it’s who I am now. So now when I’m asked my background, I say I'm Puerto Rican and Guatemalan. It’s a gift to be a part of two cultures that are both similar and different and be able to experience both. 

Being that my backgrounds are both Puerto Rican and Guatemalan, there is history in my family from both countries. Unfortunately my grandparents from my Puerto Rican side passed before I was born but I was able to speak to my father and understand their journey to New York. Being that my family came from Puerto Rico, they are automatically citizens and their move to New York was fairly easy. Speaking to my father I understood that my grandfather was born in Puerto Rico and my grandmother was born and raised in Brooklyn. My grandfather moved to New York in his 20’s and met with my grandmother. My father and my aunts were all born and raised in Brooklyn. In terms of history and culture, all their culture resides with them in East New York where there sits a deep cultural heritage. This is not the same for my Guatemalan family and history. After speaking with my grandmother she made it clear that her culture resides in Guatemala. She was born and raised in Guatemala, where a majority of her family still lives. Before moving to New York she was already a mother, raising two of my uncles. She moved to New York in her late 20’s leaving my uncles in Guatemala with my grandfather. She worked as a cleaning lady and moved in with her brother in Brooklyn. With the money she made from working, she sent a majority back to Guatemala and made a name for herself in New York. Even though she started as a cleaning lady, through meeting other immigrants and involving herself more in the Spanish community, my grandmother found Red Hook Park. Red Hook Park is a park in Brooklyn where the Spanish community made it their own. Here my grandmother found herself making and selling food, making more money then cleaning and eventually brought over my uncles from Guatemala. During this time she had two other kids, my other uncle and my mother. While my grandmother worked, my older uncles raised and took care of my mother. My grandmother told me, “Dejar a mis hijos fue difícil, pero tuve que tomar una decisión para un futuro mejor.” In other words, Leaving my kids was hard, but it was a choice I had to make for a better future. “Extraño Guatemala, siempre consideró regresar, pero mis hijos y nietos están todos aquí.” My grandmother is always telling me how she wants to go back to Guatemala and how much she misses it but her kids and grandkids are all here. When I was speaking with her, she constantly brought up Red Hook Park and its influence on her. “Finding out about Red Hook Park really changed my life. I met so many people there and really connected with the Guatemalan community in New York.” Discovering Red Hook Park was life changing for my grandmother and was her introduction to the spanish community in New York. Both sides of my family have different stories of coming to the United States, however they both found a home in New York. My grandparents from both sides of my family were able to come to New York and embrace its culture while keeping theirs. This enabled my parents to meet many others who have 2 more cultures in their family. That’s the beautiful thing about New York, it’s a place where everyone can settle down and find themselves a place to call home. There are many communities around New York that have already created a culture that embraces both everyone and specific countries. Red Hook Park is a place where all countries come together to both embrace their cultures and to experience new ones. Where my father and that side of my family currently reside in Brooklyn is a place where Puerto Ricans come together. These are communities that allow us to take a look at them and say they are latinx communities in New York.

Throughout the years growing up I have lived in various areas around New York, each with its own community and culture. My earliest memories are of the Pomonok Houses in Queens. My grandmother resided there and so did me and my mother for a while. Here the community was quite small but was very integrated. My grandmother lived in her apartment for about 10 years so everyone was familiar with her. She would have cookouts in the park and would feed all the kids and even adults. Everyone knew each other and it felt like a small community where we all had each other's back. This sense of community changed when I moved to Queens Bridge housing. Here I felt like an outcast, like I didn’t belong. There was no sense of community or safety, there just was constant crime. Queens Bridge is where I experienced the bad of New York, there were constant shoot outs, stabbings, muggings, the list goes on. My step brother and I were mugged multiple times there. After about two years living there I moved with my father to East New York. Here I felt more at home than anywhere else. My father and his aunt had created a community there. She has owned a house on Jamaica Ave by Highland park for decades and it was where my father grew up. Being that I looked just like him, I knew I would have no issues there since he knew everyone and everyone knew him. Like my grandmother, my father would have cookouts in the park where the entire neighborhood would come. Being that my father is Puerto Rican, he created a certain friend group of Puerto Ricans. On the Puerto Rican Day Parade, my father would hang Puerto Rican Flags over Jamaica Ave and pretty much shut the whole block down with a huge party. This was a tradition for him and the neighbors who were Puerto Rican. Unfortunately it never occurred to me to take pictures of the occasion, if I had it would be here. After living in Brooklyn for 4 years, I moved back with my mother and resided in Long Island City. There isn’t much to say considering I only lived there for a few months before I moved to where I currently live. Currently I live in East Elmhurst where it seems that my family is one of the few hispanics in the neighborhood. The neighborhood is mainly Asian but it is the most peaceful area I have lived in yet. My experiences living around New York allowed me to experience different parts of this big city. In terms of a Latinx experience, it resides in East New York where the Puerto Ricans and Dominicans really come together and create something more. Even though I have experienced a portion of  Latinx in New York, it’s much more than small communities.

My experiences so far in New York City have shown me a small piece of Latinx. There is a much deeper history and meaning to Latinx than we realise. Before Latinx became what it is today, there were steps taken by those from Latin America. It began in the 70’s where New York had its first “Latin Boom”. The reason for the emphasis on “Latin Boom” is due to the growth of the latino population surpassing one million in New York City. With this increase in Latin population, there were increases in latin culture within the city. In the 70’s there was a large infatuation with salsa and an increase in politicians and activists. From the 1970’s, the Latin population had a steady increase and impacted the culture of New York City. In 1990 the Latin population was 24% of the overall population in New York and increased to 29% in 2010. Puerto Ricans and Dominicans have the highest population amounts compared to any other Latino groups. Over the decades latino culture has impacted the city in a way no other group has. Currently Latinos are 25% of the city’s eligible voters which is a big improvement from the 1990’s where they were only 18%.  There has also been an increase in Latin organizations and advocacy efforts both formal and informal. Not only has the Latin population increased in population but it has had effects on communities all around New York City. Take a walk anywhere in Queens, Brooklyn or Manhattan, you will find a corner deli with a Latin worker and a cat. Maybe not all deli’s have cats but the Latin worker you will find without a doubt in my mind. Being that I have lived in various neighborhoods around New York City, I know the importance of these deli’s. Not only do they provide food, drinks, lottery tickets, they provide a sense of security. Jane Jacobs mentioned something similar in her book, about safety and security with shop owners. These bodegas give the same feeling once you get to know the workers who run it. There have been multiple occasions where I went to these deli’s after school and the guy or woman behind the counter gave me free food and a place to stay. These deli’s are the hearts of communities, where you run into friends, old acquaintances, even meet new people. Latinx isn’t only about the people or what they do but about the culture and a big part of the culture is the art. 

New York is rich with culture and a major factor of the culture is the art. You can find art anywhere in New York City, on buildings, trains, walls, you take a train anywhere and you will see art. Art comes in various forms from murals to graffiti. My uncle who is Puerto Rican was big into graffiti and in the 90’s would leave his tag on train tracks. This was a big fad in the 90’s and was mainly used by hispanics. Latinos began doing graffiti in the 70’s and still are in the present. Personally, graffiti is my favorite type of art and was a big part of my childhood. I never did graffiti but seeing it on buildings while taking the F train was inspiring. Lady Pink was an Ecuadorian graffiti artist in the 70’s and 80’s whose work I really enjoy.

Both pieces, the first being a mural and the second being graffiti was done by Lady Pink. The first is called Lady Liberty is Bush’s Whore which was politically charged considering it criticized President Bush’s administration. To be more specific it portrayed the erosion of civil liberties and the monkey represents Bush with a chain around lady liberty. The graffiti titled Pink on a CC train is more of the artist's tag. You see tags like this more often around New York City than murals which have a deeper meaning to it. Murals however catch the eye more than tags since it’s meant to have a deeper understanding.

This mural called Soldaderas located in East Harlem by artist Yasmin Hernandez has a very deep meaning to it. It portrays the current hostility between Mexicans and Puerto Ricans within the neighborhood. The mural shows what Hernandez feels could happen between the two which is to coexist without the hostility. She believed they can not only coexist but work together to fight against the injustices in the community. Currently Murals have become a more acceptable art form than graffiti for obvious reasons. Latin culture since the 70’s has given New York City art never seen before them. It has allowed art to become what it is today, to give artists voices. Both artists used their murals to portray a message rather than just to be appealing to the eye. This is the power of the Latin community in New York City and in any other city for that matter.

Being only 21 years old, I have experienced a small piece of New York City and Latinx. It is everywhere in the city and I am happy to be a part of it. My family has shown me what exactly it means to be hispanic and taught me to embrace it. My grandmother who is Guatemalan who goes to Red Hook Park and embraces its culture with me and my father who embraces his Puerto Rican culture and created something in East New York never seen before. I am glad to have such rich culture in my family and especially glad to be hispanic. Unfortunately I am not fluent in spanish but the goal is to be one day. At that point in my life I will consider myself a part of the Latinx culture in New York City and take from my family to embrace my culture and do something more with it.

[hms-chill]

Everything’s Bigger

Epilogue

The next year goes in stages.

First, there's physical therapy, a stage of tears and frustration. Henry's there for every appointment, learning how he can help and doing whatever he can to comfort Alex. He starts holding Skype calls at all hours to avoid crossing an ocean while his boyfriend is healing, and he manages to stay in New York, helping Alex move his arm and making sure he doesn't push too hard. There are days when Alex can't move his arm at all without tears, and Henry is there to help him go as far as he can and to cuddle him afterwards. Those days are replaced by days where they're pushing to get the arm to shoulder height, and when Alex can consistently get it that high, they get ice cream. Alex complains that it's a stupid milestone to celebrate, but Henry won't hear it. They celebrate every little milestone until the end of Alex's physical therapy, when Henry treats him to a nice dinner out, and Alex thanks him for being there through everything with a home cooked meal the next night.

Next, there's what Henry privately dubs the babysitting stage. It's the period between the sling coming off at the end of physical therapy and Alex being declared fully better, when Henry's job shifts from managing a charity to managing his tornado of a boyfriend, making sure Alex doesn't re-fracture his shoulder. Alex seems to believe he's fully healed the moment the sling comes off. He insists that he's totally capable of carrying an absurdly heavy backpack all day until he comes home with it slung over his good shoulder and can barely put it on the next day. Then he promises that it doesn't bother him with donors and congresspeople and senators pat his bad shoulder, until Henry presses a kiss to it that night and even that light of a touch nearly reduces him to tears. It's a terrifying few weeks of ice packs and massages, of worried check ups and ibuprofen before Henry helps him figure out what he can actually do, what he can do if he's not doing anything the next day, and when he needs to wear the sling to make sure other people leave him alone. The bad days get less and less frequent, though, and eventually, they get an all clear from his doctor. They celebrate with a movie night at the Brooklyn youth shelter, cuddled up and surrounded by kids they've helped together.

The clean bill of health is followed by weeks apart. Almost as soon as Alex is deemed medically healthy, Henry is whisked back across the ocean to take care of all the things he's been putting off while Alex healed. It's debatably the hardest part of the year, when he's worried about Alex's shoulder and mental health and there's nothing he can do. Eventually, Christmas comes. Henry has a big Christmas Eve dinner with his whole family in London, a Christmas brunch with his mom and Bea, and he and Shaan are on a plane headed for DC long before his grandmother starts her speech.

Alex and Zahra meet them at the airport, and Henry can hug Alex as hard as he wants, and Alex can hug back just as hard, and that in itself feels like a Christmas miracle. Alex shoves a mess of a Christmas jumper over Henry's head, and Henry laughs, overjoyed to be back together. Christmas with Alex's family is civil, and Henry sticks around after to help finalize plans for the Young Americans Gala. Pez and Bea fly over for the party, and though Henry does have to go back with them a few days later, he leaves with the confidence that Alex is doing okay. He'd spent far too much of the party bragging about how he'd saved James Bond's son, the prince of England, for Henry to be too worried.

It's just after Alex's birthday that the final phase of the year, the begging and planning, really starts. They're in bed together when Henry's fingers find the two puckered scars in Alex's shoulder, and he traces them gently, asking, "Alex, are you awake? What... have you thought at all about going back to Austin for pride this year?"

"That would be perfect."

-

And so, a little over two months later, Henry finds himself stepping off a plane into Alex's arms and the Texas summer heat. They're back. They're on a float again, but this time, it's not just them. Bea and June refused to let them go alone, and Nora and Pez refused to be left behind, so all six of them are here, piling into a van in a mess of rainbows and body glitter and Cash's sunscreen.

"You doing okay?" Henry asks Alex as they get a second, and Alex nods, rubbing his shoulder absently.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Great. We're back in Austin, and we get to go to pride with everyone; it's going to be great."

"It will be. We'll be okay, Alex. Promise."

Alex smiles, pulling Henry into a hug as they get downtown and the energy shifts. The parade meeting ground is hectic, but it's a contagiously electric energy, and Henry can feel the fear start to slowly drain out of them both. By the time they're on their float and moving, they're all a mess of massive grins and bigger cheers.

The parade itself is a blur, but a few things stand out. Henry sees two women with twin girls on their shoulders, one moving forward so her daughter can tip a drag queen. There are kids with pride flags painted on their faces showing their parents around, and there are queer people old enough to be their grandparents who get to celebrate like everyone else. But what stands out the most is the moment they approach the turn where everything fell apart last year. Alex tenses up a bit, and Henry moves closer to him on instinct. But then the others are there, too, crowding close as they turn the corner to see a sea of rainbow and be hit with a wall of cheers, accompanied by more sings than anywhere else on the route: "Austin strong, Austin proud!" "We love our first kids" "Alex I'm so f**king proud of you!" "Henry, Prince of my heart!"

Alex is crying as Henry hugs him, but he's laughing, too, and looking out over the crowd to be sure he doesn't miss a second of it. Henry sees Bea and June filming both sides of the street as Nora and Pez shout thank yous and throw pride flags into the crowd. Henry and Alex just soak it all in, holding each other and beaming into the crowd. Alex raises a fist, extending his pointer finger and pinky in a "hook 'em horns" salute, and Henry follows suit. The crowd cheers, mirroring them, and Alex whoops so loudly, Henry's sure it carries over to Louisiana just to spite anyone who might try to shut them up.

From the end of the parade route, it's a short walk to their last scheduled stop for the day. It's a gorgeous Victorian building in Central Austin, bought eleven months ago and newly renovated with the donations that flooded in after their catastrophe. They've got a ribbon cutting ceremony for the newest Okonjo Foundation youth shelter, located close to public transit and the University of Texas campus, and incredibly near and dear to both their hearts. They cut the ribbon together, each holding one handle of the oversized scissors and throwing the doors open together to welcome the staff inside. If it's anything like the other shelters, they'll have kids there by that night, and they'll most likely come back to welcome them in person.

Once the shelter's open, they and their friends get to just enjoy pride. They get sno cones and watch drag shows, and they meet up with Liam and Spencer for a bit, and really, it matters less what they do and more that they're doing it at all, surrounded by people who are celebrating their love.

Over dinner at Alex’s favorite Austin restaurant, they all curate instagram posts together. Henry has a few photos of himself and Alex at the ribbon cutting, captioned with a paragraph about how he's so proud of Alex, the foundation, and the city of Austin and how thankful he is to be able to be a part of something like this. Nora's got one of herself, June, and Pez, lipstick stains on both her cheeks, and Pez has one of the three of them sharing a massive rainbow sno cone and sticking out tongues dyed various different colors. June's post is a photo of herself and Alex, a caption about how she's infinitely proud of him and overjoyed to be celebrating in their hometown, and Bea has a similar post about Henry and how proud she is of him, accompanied by a photo of them together in front of the youth shelter.

Alex's post takes the longest, but eventually, he settles on a photo of himself and Henry from behind, "Hook 'em Horns" raised to an overjoyed crowd. It's followed by Bea's and June's videos of the crowd along that stretch and captioned, "a massive, Texas-sized thank you, Austin! Thank you for standing up to hate, and staying loud and proud, and for helping make a hard memory a million times better. Y'all have shown me and my family so much love, and I can't imagine a better city to come home to."

On AO3

Notes:

It's done! I did it! Now I need to do actual Real Life Work (research into queer history) (also job hunting) for like a week, but I've got a few requests to finish up once that's done! I should be back soon; my research is due the 6th :)

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Reinforcements 2

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Reinforcements 2

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Dinner is an ongoing affair. The big room at the center of the house reminds Nikolai starkly of the same room in Havenhill, and it’s easy to understand how Alaric would have been off-balance there. Food is set up along the outer edges, and tables have been placed in the center. People take what they want and drift from place to place, either standing and talking, or settling in at a table for a time.

It’s easy to get lost, or overwhelmed.

Every time Nikolai blinks, it seems as if someone new arrives. Rory introduces him to his mother and fathers and later to his grandparents as well. Alaric is in the middle of introducing several Clan from other communities when one loud girl arrives and brashly interrupts to pounce on the back of one the girls with Alaric. When most of the Clan group leaves, Dayton carries Stormy on her back, a small parade of others following behind.

At the sound of a shriek, Nikolai looks to the door and spots a small child—the youngest he’s seen at the gather tonight—barreling across the room. She throws her arms around Alaric’s legs, then lifts her arms high and demands to be picked up. He does so, fitting her on her hip and spinning around so that her brightly colored knit cape swings out.

Across the room, Val stands with a skinny teen. She smiles fondly as she watches.

Nikolai grasps for Seth to hold on to. “Alaric,” he says quietly, waiting until he stops spinning. “I thought you didn’t know Val.”

“Hm?” Alaric’s gaze follows where Nikolai points.

The small girl in his arms waves wildly. “Mama! Elijah! Come meet Alaric! He’s a dog!”

She slips down slightly as Alaric’s hold loosens, his fingers momentarily slack. He grabs on, hoisting her up again. “Only sometimes, Miranda,” he says, hand steady on her back.

“Only sometimes,” she agrees. “You’ve never met my Mama.”

“I haven’t.” Alaric slowly lowers Miranda to the ground, making sure she’s settled. His expression is closed and tight. “You’re right. I should.”

“Maybe they’re both bedrock,” Nikolai murmurs. Maybe this is a turning point when Val and Alia meet on this world. Maybe them not being together is how their worlds diverged, and he can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. In many ways, Havenhill is far ahead of where the Haverhill community is now. But his world overall is in far more dire straights.

Val approaches, her hand out and a steady smile in her expression. “You’re Alaric. My name is Valentine, and this is Miranda’s older brother, Elijah. I’m glad we finally got to meet. When I heard that Susan, Allison, and David were planning to come, I asked if my family could join your Gather. Miranda was excited to come to your home.”

Alaric takes her hand, shakes it without letting go after. “Do you know my mother?” he asks, a soft growl under his words.

“I—” Valentine tugs her hand free, takes a step back. “I don’t know. It’s possible we crossed paths in the past. Did she attend PHU like you do?”

“Most of us do.”

Her smile is thinner, stretched a little too wide. “Then it’s a possibility. You’ll have to introduce us when you get a chance. All I know so far is that her son is excellent with fiber work, and good with small children. She obviously raised you well.”

Miranda tugs at Alaric, and he picks her up again while half-distracted. His skin is pale, and it’s a moment before he replies, “I’ll take you to her. And thank you.”

Seth tugs at Nikolai. “This would be a really good time for us to step out,” he murmurs.

Alaric turns around, and Nikolai remembers then that he has excellent hearing. “You can go anywhere in the community that you’d like, although I don’t recommend driving. Not everywhere has roads,” Alaric says quietly. “Just don’t get into anything someone might consider personal.”

“The house where we stayed in Havenhill?” Seth asks.

Alaric expression twists into distaste. “If you want. It’s worse here than there. No one considers it habitable. And there’s only the one. Ignore the mess. My father wrecked part of it when he lost his mind briefly.”

That statement makes Nikolai curious, but Alaric is already turning away, Miranda in his arms as he stiffly heads for Alia with Valentine and Elijah in his wake.

Seth squeezes Nikolai’s fingers, and Nikolai nods. Yes. It’s time to go. There are far too many people here.

Nikolai can breathe more easily when they emerge from the house. More cars are parked in front than he remembers being in the parking lot of the store where they got clothes after they first arrived in this world. He reads the license plates: New York, of course, but also Ohio, Massachusetts, Maine, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Maryland, Pennsylvania… there are representatives from all over the northeast and beyond.

“I take it we’re not the only ones getting claustrophobic?” Nate’s voice is cheery as he waves from where he crouches off to one side, lacing up his sneakers. “Dax is heading that way. We’re going to go do something he doesn’t want to do, if you want to come along.”

Nikolai looks around, expecting someone else. “Where’s Cass?”

“Inside with the rest of the SigPsiE contingent. I think Drea’s claimed sisterly rights or something in order to introduce them all to all of her friends. Besides, she’s… getting better about not being attached to Dax every second of the day.” Nate straightens up slowly, arching his back as he stretches. “I’d thought about getting Dax to go on a run, but we can walk if you want to go with us.”

“What are you going to go do?” Seth asks. “We were going to head out to the place where we stayed in our world’s community.” His gaze shifts to where Dax stands. It looks like he’s heading toward the house, or somewhere along the way. Even Nikolai can see that he’s stiff, before Seth comments, “He’s definitely apprehensive.”

“We’re going to talk to a ghost.” Nate gestures, and they follow, catching up to Dax. “We’ve got company.”

“I’m sure Orson will be thrilled,” Dax mutters. “Running?” He has on sneakers as well, bounces on his toes. He’s graceful for someone so broad and tall, whereas Nate looks a little more like an antelope, all arms and legs.

“Unless something’s chasing us, I’d rather not,” Seth replies.

Dax shrugs and starts walking down the path. Nikolai remembers this way between the Benford house and the big house in Havenhill. It had been clearer there, with more small houses and outbuildings leading off the path. This road is open for a ways, then it closes down to a narrow path between the trees, definitely walking only, as if it’s traveled only rarely.

Nikolai doesn’t remember there being a cemetery in Havenhill, but there is definitely one here, off the path a long ways, much farther of a hike than he’d expected to take. He can’t see it in the distance when they start out, but Dax leads them there with ease. They pause at the edge marked by the first graves. There are footsteps in the mud outside, and paths worn through the grass above the graves. Some are marked by flowers or plants, others plain aside from the headstone. Dax hesitates, eyes closed and hands clenched.

“We are not going to talk to a ghost,” he says slowly. “I am. And I’m going to do my best to just talk to the one ghost. Which hasn’t been difficult in the past, but something’s riled up the spirits here. They’re much chattier than before. Would’ve been nice for Alex to warn me.”

“Do Alex’s warnings actually make sense?” Nate asks.

Dax huffs. “You have a point. C’mon. Orson’s right over here.”

The grave is newer than the others, the grass still new and sparse, fresh growth in the spring. It is well kept, however, with ivy climbing the stone and hostas around the base. The stone is bright and still sharp from the fresh cutting only months before.

Orson Herne. Beloved Son and Brother.

He was only twenty-two when he died.

Dax crouches on the fresh grass, his fingers just skimming the tops of the tiny blades. “Hey,” he says quietly, looking at the stone. “Long walk to get here, but you know that. Like Alaric said, this place wasn’t built for people like us. Everyone else can run on four legs, or fly.”

He smiles slightly. “You have a point. It’s tough on the lizards and bugs.”

The smile falls away, his brow furrowing. “Slow down. Please.”

Seth takes a step closer to Nikolai.

Nate moves to stand behind Dax, his hand hovering over Dax’s shoulder. “Do you—”

Dax cuts him off by bringing one hand up. Then he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I get it,” he mutters. “You said that. I’m trying to protect him. I’m trying to finish this. Why the hell is everyone else so angry about it now? Is it because of the Mages—” He stops abruptly, hands falling from his face as his mouth opens slowly. “Oh.”

Dax pushes back, brushing against Nate briefly before he pulls away. He opens his mouth, draws in a breath and for a moment he looks as if he’s about to launch into a speech, the words hanging heavy in the air, waiting. Then he simply says, “Okay.” He takes a step back and nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Nate asks.

Dax shakes his head, exhales roughly. “Not really, not me, but they—it will be. I need to get out of here and put some distance between me and this place. You said we’re going... where?”

“The old Benford—”

“Berman,” Seth corrects him.

“The Berman house,” Nikolai says. “If we’d just kept going down that one path through the trees, we would’ve gotten there. It’s where we stayed, in our own world. Or similar. And I’ve heard it’s where Mattie came back from being just a Shadow.”

“Sometimes it’s weird being the one non-Talented person hanging out with you guys,” Nate muses. “You all have all this going on, and all I can do is tag along for moral support.”

Seth nudges his glasses up his nose. “Never underestimate the value of moral support. I’m an Empath. That’s pretty much what we do.”

Dax turns and heads for the edge of the cemetery again, back the way they came. Nate falls into step beside him, while Nikolai catches up when Seth follows.

Nate glances back at them. “Yeah, but your moral support is more like,” he lifts his fingers and wiggles them at Dax. “Mine’s a lot more being there and talking.”

“He talks a lot,” Dax agrees.

“Some people might find that a more comforting method of providing empathy than the Talented version,” Seth argues. He’s the shortest of all of them, walking swiftly to keep up. Nikolai doesn’t worry about them moving too fast for Seth, though. They walked all over New York; he’s sure he can manage this distance. “Some people don’t like Talent. There’s a reason Humans fear us.”

“Plus Shadows,” Nikolai reminds him.

“There’s that.”

Nikolai reaches out to catch Seth’s hand, and they slow down slightly, letting Dax and Nate move on ahead. He doesn’t have a reason for it, just that maybe they don’t have to rush right now. There’s no reason to hurry, they aren’t running from anything.

He sees Nate’s hands lift and move as he speaks, but Dax and he are far enough ahead that Nikolai can’t quite overhear them now. The distance stretches as they move along the narrow path.

“They’re going somewhere. We’re out for a relaxing stroll,” Nikolai observes.

Seth’s gaze is narrowed watching the others. “Mm,” he agrees, as Nate reaches out and grabs Dax’s shoulder and points at something off in the distance. “We just happen to be going in the same direction.”

The distance between them steadies eventually, which is good, since Nikolai’s hard-pressed to see the difference between the small path they follow through the trees, and the turn-off to head toward the Berman place. Roads have been left behind, and these are places where wolves run and birds fly. The need for human pathways just isn’t there.

He can feel the place before they arrive. It pricks at his senses even more than the Benford house did, tingling across his skin. Nikolai pauses as the house comes into view. “You feel that?”

Seth nods. “I feel something. Not sure if it’s the same thing you feel, but this is worse than home. This place has a very active stay out kind of feel to it. It’s uncomfortable getting closer to it. I’m not sure how they just walked up so easily.”

Nate waves and motions for them to come forward. He’s waiting at the base of the steps, but Dax already has the door open and is looking in. The door looks like it’s been ripped apart by something with claws, and hangs awkwardly on the hinges.

“There aren’t any ghosts here,” Dax calls over his shoulder. “It feels dead, but there’s no one here waiting to talk to me.”

“That’s because Mattie’s already gone,” Nate suggests. “I wonder if you would’ve been able to talk to her before she was pulled out?” He crosses his arms, shudders theatrically. “This place even gives me the heebie-jeebies. I can’t imagine what it feels like to you.”

“It feels like the Dreamscape is already here,” Nikolai replies. He has one hand up, staring at his fingers as they move through the air. He’s looking for that moment when he slips, when the Dreaming comes out into the real world. It doesn’t happen, but it feels like it could, if he even breathes wrong. Like it’s waiting for him to cross over. “This place could be dangerous.”

“It was.” The door is pulled out of Dax’s hand, and Mattie stands there, Chelsea a column of darkness behind her. “I Emerged here, and my family died. This place ate my soul.”

“Feels like it could do it again,” Seth says dryly.

“Probably,” Mattie agrees. She pulls what’s left of the door open wide. “Why don’t you come in?”

Dax walks past her, circling around Chelsea. They stare at each other as the rest move in, and Chelsea slides forward, one hand out and reaching for Dax’s face.

“Not for eating,” Mattie says.

Chelsea pulls back, shadowed hand falling. “I wasn’t going to. He feels… different. I just wanted to see.”

“It’s okay.” Dax closes the distance between them, reaching for Chelsea’s hands and wrapping his fingers around shadowed wrists. He lifts them both, offering his face for her to touch.

“Are you sure you should—”

“I’ve been thrown across rooms by ghosts.” Dax interrupts Nate, holding still while Chelsea’s fingers spread tendrils of darkness across his skin. “She doesn’t feel anything like that.”

“She also drinks souls,” Seth reminds him. “Nikolai woke up one morning to find her feeding on us.”

Nikolai can’t see her features clearly, but he feels certain that the look Chelsea throws is both hurt and indignant.

“I apologized,” she says. “And I’m not doing that now. I’m not hungry. Much.” Her attention refocuses on Dax, the darkness almost hiding his face as she leans in close. Her hands curl around the nape of his neck, and he stands there quietly. “What are you?”

“Descendent of The Oracle of Delphi and an Empathic line, and I talk to ghosts,” Dax says easily.

“You aren’t like the skinny one, but you are still brimming. Your energy is not for me.” Chelsea slips backwards, light spilling into the space around Dax as she goes. “You carry the weight of others.”

“Hundreds of ghosts over the years,” Dax agrees. He shudders, seeming to shake something off. “Just one active one, currently.”

Nikolai tunes them out. He wants to see more of this place, and lets the tingling on his skin draw him through the living room and into the kitchen. The floor is covered in dirt, left alone over the ages. Windows are broken, wind whistling through. Old pans lie on the stove and dishes on the table, as if it was immortalized in a moment after someone disappeared.

The kitchen is where the sensation is strongest, as if he could step from reality into the Dreaming right here. He draws in a deep breath, and lets it out slowly, centering himself. He feels Seth’s calm from the other room; even from a distance, his anchor is stable.

“There,” Mattie whispers.

Nikolai turns, startled. “I didn’t hear you following me.”

She moves past him, touching the stool that stands by the stove. “I was right here,” she says. “You can feel it, can’t you? How thin the barrier is still. I wonder if there are other places like this in the world, if every time a Shadow Emerges it leaves a rift behind. I wonder if that is how other Shadows slip into the world, if that gives them access. It didn’t feel this thin in Havenhill, did it?”

Nikolai shakes his head. “Not really, no.” He presses his hand next to hers on the stool, and for a moment the kitchen is in color, macaroni and cheese bubbling on the stove, the scent rich in his nose. He steps back quickly, and everything returns to darkness, dust, and dirt. “Is this where you were were trapped?”

Mattie crosses her arms, sinks to sit on the stool with her back to the stove. She nods. “I was waiting, I think. I never went far.”

“Do you think it’ll be the same for Chelsea?” Nikolai has an idea how it worked with Mattie now even if he’s not sure of the actual mechanics. He has a feeling there will be a lot of faith involved, but from Carolyn’s description, he can see how they slipped into the Dreaming and found Mattie there to bring her back. “Do we need to go where she Emerged? Do you think she’ll be waiting there?”

Mattie presses her lips together, shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think it will be the same. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Chelsea’s linked to Pawel. She keeps drifting back to him.”

Nikolai’s gaze goes slowly to the doorway. Seth, Nate, Dax, and Chelsea are all still talking, voices slipping over each other, Chelsea’s more sibilant than the others but no less strong. “So you think that if she’s waiting anywhere, it’s near Pawel,” he says quietly. “You think that’s where to find her.”

“If she’s anywhere, I think it could be there,” Mattie agrees. “Are you going to restore her soul to her before the ritual? Whatever they are planning might kill her. I know they want to stop the Shadows.”

Where stop might mean kill, or lock out, or any number of things that means Chelsea isn’t here anymore. Which could also mean Nikolai and Seth have no way of getting home.

He doesn’t want to think about that part.

“She’ll be around after whatever we do,” he says, as if it’s actually that simple. “She needs to help us get home, since you can’t.”

“I can’t,” Mattie confirms. “I can’t get into the Split now, not easily. It feels as if I should be able to, but I think something’s changed there. Something that makes it only for those without souls, only for those who hunger and have needs that go beyond sanity. Perhaps after the ritual, that will change.” A small, wistful sound before she smiles. “I’d like to travel.”

“I think we need to figure out what’s happening with the ritual, first, and getting me and Seth home after that.” Nikolai doesn’t want to lose sight of the goal, but he understands the idea of looking ahead. He wants to know what comes next, too.

He closes his eyes and relaxes for a moment, lets the sensation of the Dreamscape wash over him without letting it slip out. It’s so close that he could mold it here, bring it into being. He has a feeling that’s important, so he accustoms himself to the sensation and does his best to keep it under control. He’ll save this for later.

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[onestowatch]

13 Music Podcasts You Should Be Listening to Right Now

In case you haven’t quite got the memo, Spotify is for a lot more than streaming Billie Eilish and a playlist made up of lo-fi chill beats on repeat. The past few years have witnessed a veritable boom of podcasts, from both self-made creators and massive media outlets, covering a whole spectrum of topics and niche interests. As someone who has listened to over 70 hours of “The Adventure Zone,” a Dungeons & Dragons podcast hosted by three brothers and their dad, in spite of never having once thought of actually playing a game of D&D, it is safe to say this is no passing fad.

Podcasts exist as an inside look into a host of worlds you never once considered exploring, and this goes equally true for music podcasts. From in-depth examinations of your favorite artists and their works to dramatized true crime–style narratives of legendary artists, these are the music podcasts you need to be listening to right now. 

Also, if you needed even more music podcasts in your life, did you know Ones To Watch has its own battle-style podcast where four tracks enter the ring and only one leaves victorious? 

Switched on Pop

There is no escaping pop music, so you may as well enjoy, examine, and eventually begin to understand why exactly it is so popular. At least, that’s the ethos behind musicologist Nate Sloan and songwriter Charlie Harding’s phenomenal podcast. Each episode sees the duo breaking down pop songs to posit the question of what makes a song like “bad guy” or “Old Town Road” a hit, and what is their cultural significance in the music landscape at large? Balancing lighthearted humor with critical analysis, Switched On Pop is a podcast that will have you loving music you never knew you liked in the first place. 

Where to Start: “Billie Eilish is a Different Kind of Pop Star (ft. FINNEAS)”

Dissect

Dissect is a music nerd’s dream podcast. Hosted by Cole Cuchna, the hit podcast series is rare in that rather than jumping from topic to topic with each episode, each season of “Dissect” holds a magnifying glass to one prolific work of one seminal artist. From the mythos of Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly, Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, Ms. Lauryn Hill’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, to Tyler, The Creator grappling with his sexuality on Flower Boy, there is no shortage of reasons of why you need to be listening to Dissect.  

Where to Start: “S4E14 - Epilogue: IGOR”

Song Exploder

Song Exploder may just be the best interview series in existence, largely due to the podcast functioning as less of a traditional interview series and more as a vivid recollection of artist’s most heartfelt work. The podcast series features musicians from all walks of life, from Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham to Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, taking apart a single one of their songs piece by piece. It is akin to your grandparents recounting one of their fondest memories to you, if your grandparents just so happened to be world-renowned artists.  

Where to Start: “Maggie Rogers - Alaska”

Disgraceland

In the wake of the massive popularity of True Crime podcasts like “Serial,” Disgraceland marries all there is to love about rock star worship and a culture’s obsession with the seedier aspects of the human condition. Blending music history, true crime, and transgressive fiction, Disgraceland is a dramatized retelling of some of music’s most enthralling criminal stories. Imagine the already engrossing stories of Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G. or Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love, albeit told through an exhilarating and entertaining modern-noir lens.

Where to Start: “Amy Winehouse: Rehab, the Muse and a Rare Talent”

And The Writer Is…with Ross Golan

Have you ever wondered who is the person behind some of your favorite songs? Then And The Writer Is… is the podcast for you. Each episode takes you behind the closed doors of the music and into the songwriting room with some of the greatest songwriters and creatives of our generation. If you love anything by any of today’s biggest artists, then chances are they have probably appeared on an episode of And The Writer Is… to provide an inside glimpse into their creative process. 

Where to Start: “EP 54: Ben Gibbard (Death Cab For Cutie)”

Questlove Supreme

You shouldn’t be listening to Questlove Supreme just because its host is none other than the infamous Questlove (although that would honestly be more than enough reason for us). For starters, Questlove Supreme arguably features some of the best guests out of any other podcast out there. Ever wanted to hear John Oliver talk about his transition from The Daily Show to shaping people’s political opinions regularly? Or ever wondered about Michelle Obama’s first musical memories? Then, good news, because Questlove Supreme has all you could ever need and so much more.

Where to Start: “Ep. 113 feat. Michelle Obama”

Twenty Thousand Hertz

Twenty Thousand Hertz is likely the most prominent outlier on this list. That is not to say this is not a podcast of note, equally as deserving of your precious listening hours; Twenty Thousand Hertz simply does not address music or artists in the traditional sense. Rather, this is an examination of the sounds, the sonic textures, and the crucial building blocks that have allowed artists to create works that truly move people. Twenty Thousand Hertz is not just for music lovers, but for those who appreciate the perfectly intangible idea of sound as a simultaneously human-constructed and natural concept.

Where to Start: “#72 | 808”

Punch Up The Jam

Punch Up The Jam is a comedy and music podcast. How does that work exactly? Well, comedians and best friends Miel Bredouw and Demi Adejuyigbe invite one of their equally hilarious friends to attempt to fix a popular song, despite having absolutely no qualifications so to speak of. Laughs are had, chaos ensues, and more laughs are had as Punch Up The Jam begs the question: do you need to know anything about music to improve a hit song?

Where to Start: 77 - “Kiss From a Rose (w/ Travis McElroy)”

All Songs Considered

It would be impossible to create a definitive list of music podcasts without mentioning NPR's All Songs Considered. The nearly 20-year-old series has grown with the times, evolving from a lauded radio show to an award-receiving podcast. The generation-spanning medium for music discovery is hosted by Bob Boilen and Robin Hilton, and often features a range of guests that makes this already much-celebrated podcast into essential listening material.

Where to Start: “All Songs Rewind: The Worst Songs Of All Time?”

Hit Parade

For Hit Parade, the phrase “it’s a smash” is more than just A&R short-hand for any passing song they hear in mid-production; it is the genesis of music history. Produced by Slate, pop chart analyst Chris Molanphy seeks to uncover what exactly it was that made a song a number one smash. More than just a terribly informative music podcast, Hit Parade changes up its formula through bouts of trivia, music snippets, and enthralling storytelling.

Where to Start: “The Oh. My. God. Becky Edition”

Popcast

The best way to understand the very notion and ever-changing minutia of popular music is Popcast. Hosted by New York Times pop critic Jon Caramanica, Popcast homes in on not just what is trending on the Billboard charts but what is trending, period. From Taylor Swift and Scooter Braun’s ongoing civil war, the perplexing economics of the streaming era, to how memes can create bonafide artists, Popcast is what you need to be listening to in order to sound erudite at your next dinner party, even if you find yourself in spirited discourse over Lil Nas X.

Where to Start: “How Many Streams Is a T-Shirt Worth? Breaking Down Chart Dilemmas.”

Ongoing History of New Music

This next podcast is dedicated to all our lovely Canadian readers, or really anyone who is looking for an enlightening deep dive into music’s most notable artists and movements. Hosted by legendary Canadian radio broadcaster and music journalist Alan Cross, Ongoing History of New Music is Canada’s most well-known music documentary series. Featuring artists profile from the likes of Radiohead to Twenty One Pilots, narrative journeys of everything from Christian Rock to Britpop, and even the etymology behind some of music’s most elusive terminology, Ongoing History of New Music is a musical history wellspring.

Where to Start: “Stories Behind Songs”

The Great Albums

The Great Albums is a podcast series wholly true to its name. In unexpected yet utterly delightful fashion, co-hosts Bill Lambusta and Brian Erickson delve into some of pop, rock, and beyond’s greatest moments and musical accomplishments. More than just a track by track review of a seminal work from the likes of Jay-Z, Joni Mitchell, and Sufjan Stevens, The Great Albums is an examination of the notion of fandom and how that love affair is expressed through the lens of the prolific album.  

Where to Start: “Radiohead - OK Computer”

[nancypullen]

Searching for Home (Warning: long post about nothing)

That blog title may seem odd since I’ve been in this house since 1999.  Mt. Juliet has been home because this is (mostly) where my kids grew up.  Sure, they remember Barrow and Fairbanks and living the Alaskan life, but they were little guys when we moved here.  Matt was 3rd grade and Tyler was just getting ready for kindergarten.  As for me, prior to moving here I’d spent the bulk of my life in Alaska, some of it on Ft. Wainwright, some of it in North Pole, some of it in Barrow, and much of it in Fairbanks. 

During my childhood we bounced from post to post as a military family (no complaints, I loved it), and didn’t really settle until Dad retired and I was entering high school in North Pole.  We spent a period going back and forth between Ft. Wainwright , Alaska (4th,5th,6th grade, then 9-12th) and Ft. Bragg, North Carolina (K 1,2,3 then 7th and 8th grade). But when you return to a post you don’t return to the friends you once had, they’ve all moved on.  You go into different housing, different schools, and make new friends.  I was born in Georgia, but have no memory of the state. We lived in Louisiana and I have vague memories of it, none very good.  I was more, or maybe less, fortunate than some depending on how you look at it.  More fortunate because I sometimes returned to familiar areas, and as the youngest in my family I was the only one who was able to start and finish high school in one place.  Less fortunate because my dad had an aversion to putting in for posts overseas - so many of my friends had the opportunity to live in Germany, Italy, Spain, and other exciting spots.  When my family was military Alaska was considered comparable to overseas posts, so that’s where we went.  My sister was born just as Alaska became a state in 1959.  My brother was born there as well, and two years after his arrival I was born 4,284 miles away at Ft. Benning, Georgia.  Our family made many trips up and down the Al-Can Highway (through Canada to Alaska)  and it wasn’t paved.   Three kids crammed into a station wagon that’s pulling a U-Haul (or a camper) on a washboard gravel road for 2200 miles with very little to see...someone give my mother a medal.   No doubt that road and its amenities have improved, but at that time it was sparse. I spent seventeen years of my life in Alaska, I stayed well after the rest of my family had fled.  By the time I was eighteen I was without parents or siblings in the state but I had Mickey.  I was young and in love.  My parents had moved to Florida, my sister had followed love to Rochester,New York, and my brother had joined the Army and was in Germany.  Alaska is where I started married life, became a mother, and experienced so many of life’s firsts.  But I don’t miss it.  Fairbanks is kind of a gritty town.  Not the Fairbanks that tourists see, but the town that’s there after the snow flies.  Perhaps if my roots were in Sitka or Juneau or even somewhere in the Matanuska Valley I’d feel a longing to go back.  Maybe not. Everything is harder there.  As a mother of two little boys just the logistics of getting to the grocery store and back were a pain.  Unplug and start the car (if you don’t have a garage) to warm it up.  While the car is thawing, get everyone decked out in arctic gear from head to toe.  Load up and slide to the store. Debate whether to leave car running and risk theft, or turn it off and do your shopping as a mad dash. Get everyone inside and unzipped so they don’t sweat to death while shopping.  Rush around buying ridiculously priced food and so-so produce and check out.  Dress kids again, then give them whiplash trying to pull the grocery cart across the frozen, rutted, bumpy parking lot. Unload into trunk, then sit down on hard as a rock car seat because you turned the car off and everything is frozen. Slide home on icy roads.  You see where this is going. The dressing and undressing so that no one gets frostbite.  The elements constantly working against you.  Did I mention that it’s also midnight dark almost all day and night? Don’t get me wrong, I love winter. I love snow.  But I do not love constant darkness and fifty below zero and trying to accomplish every day tasks in weather not meant for humans. Obviously, that wasn’t all winter. Lots of days hovered in the twenty to thirty below zero range. I remember my in-laws coming for a Christmas visit and my father-in-law delighting in tossing a hot cup of coffee into the air to watch it come back down in frozen crystals. Even in the brief but beautiful summers the conveniences that we take for granted here in the lower 48 weren’t available and if they were there was sticker shock.  My friends in Fairbanks still complain about prices, conveniences, lack of goods,etc.   They take great pride in the moose, aurora, and bone-chilling cold.  I don’t want to burst their bubbles and tell them that you can get all of that in Maine, Minnesota, North Dakota, and other northern states AND get Amazon Prime and affordable household goods.  You don’t have to prove anything. So where am I going with this rambling blog? I’m looking for home.  Most people feel a pull toward home, a place or a state.  I don’t. Well, I kind of do...but it’s more for a time and a people.  I miss Weiser, Idaho where we lived for a year with my grandparents while my dad was in Korea.  We also visited every chance we got, mostly when we were transferring between bases.  Those were the safest, happiest, most wonderful times in my life. Grandma and Grandpa’s place was paradise.   But that’s all gone now.  their house and land was sold long ago and it’s now run down and the big shade trees are gone, so are Grandma’s magical gardens.  If I returned to Weiser it wouldn’t be to that cinnamon scented house of love where I slept in an attic bedroom with lace curtains.  I do like Idaho a lot, but it wouldn’t feel like home. I’ve mentioned before that I have a real affection for the town of Wamego in Kansas.  It’s just right.  Situated between Manhattan(about 15 minutes) and Topeka (about 30 minutes) and with Kansas City a bit further east (a bit over an hour) it’s a Norman Rockwell town that takes pride in a charming downtown, a good school system, and being neighborly.  It’s the heartland.  We’ve visited three times and Wamego always comes up when we talk about where we’d like to be. I confess, I love the prairie. Always have.  The politics of Kansas are a hot mess.  I don’t mean that they’re red and I’m blue, I mean that the Kansas GOP has basically bankrupted the state.  I can live in a red state, though I’d love to live in a blue one, but I can’t live in a state devoid of services, money for schools, roads,etc.  I’m keeping a watchful eye on their governor’s race - will they elect Laura Kelly, a woman and democrat who has been a four term state senator and fought Brownback’s destructive policies...or Kobach, Brownback’s right hand man?  I met Brownback at a Wamego 4th of July parade before I knew who he was and every cell in my body screamed DANGER.  You know how sometimes your gut tells you before your brain has a chance to figure things out?  That.  If Kansas votes Kelly, my faith will be restored.  But it’s not home.  We also love Keene, the town in New Hampshire that hosts the fabulous pumpkin festival.  We always walk the towns we like, checking out libraries and other spots, and we always go into grocery stores and compare prices. Keene ticks all of my boxes for a sweet, interesting, walkable, smart city.  Their library was beautiful!  That tells you a lot about a population.  If the library is active it speaks highly of a town.  Property taxes were a little high in Keene, and it’s really not close to any decent airports for Mickey.  Manchester’s small airport is about an hour and twenty minutes away and Boston is almost 2 hours (probably more with traffic).   Granted, we’d probably be retired so maybe that’s not as big of an issue.  Still, we’ll want to see family and that makes it harder for everyone involved.  Keene is beautiful, and it is surrounded by New England’s best - sugar maple farms and covered bridges, and has four beautiful seasons.  Keene is Mickey’s number one choice, but.....you guessed it, it’s not home. I like so many of the small towns outside of Minneapolis (and it’s a blue state!),  and the state of Minnesota ranks sky high in just about every way that matters - great health care, great education system, great economy, and so on.  They’re smart cookies up there.  Admittedly, the biggest draw is that Matt lives up there, but there’s no guarantee he’ll stay.  He’ll be off wherever the scariest diseases live.  Minnesota is at the top of my list though, I really like the people there.  I like coastal Maine, not so much inland Maine.  Sadly their economy is in such a downward spiral that the state is in a depression with no end in sight.  I think they’re ranked 47th in the nation for economic growth and their numbers are stagnant.   It’s weird, Maine’s neighboring states are thriving while their governor sticks to his guns and guts the coffers.   I’ve read article after article showing that the Portland area of southeast Maine is recovering and growing but rural Maine is being left behind.  Businesses are closing, services are being cut, there’s no job creation,  and no one seems to be taking action. Towns are shrinking and doctors, dentists, teachers, and other important services are lost. So...we could probably pick up real estate for a song, but living there might be hard for a retired person. I think I’ll just visit and eat their lobster.    We could just stay put.  Life in Tennessee is certainly affordable.  No state income tax, though we do have a hefty sales tax (here in Wilson County we pay ten cents on a dollar).  Real estate is still affordable - though again, here in Wilson County it has skyrocketed.  If you don’t mine living deep, I mean deep, in Trump country where the religious hypocrisy runs high and tolerance is low - this might be your place.  I didn’t pick it, but I’ve made the best of it for over twenty-five years.  I reached my limit years ago, but the mister has recently started complaining about the heat so maybe we’ll get out after all.  Nashville is twenty minutes and a whole world away.  Maybe if we were young people living downtown we’d see a different Tennessee - Davidson County usually goes blue, a small dot in a deeply red state. Here in Mt. Juliet one of the first things people ask you is where you go to church.  Two weeks ago I went to get my mammogram and the woman who took my information was very chatty.  I engaged and we were yukking it up. As I left her desk to sit down and wait to be called, she said, “You are just precious, where do you go to church?”  When I answered that I don’t belong to a particular church her face fell and that was the end of her friendliness.  No doubt she needed to know which part of the hierarchy I belonged to...the large population of Baptists and Church of Christ followers seem to have a running battle to see who can out holy the other and who can recruit the most new members.  Methodists are pretty cool and there’s even a handful of Lutherans here who won’t bother you at all.   Tennessee is growing by leaps and bounds and has one of the hottest real estate markets in the country thanks to it being a retirement haven.  Low prices, low taxes, low standards.   Ahahahaha!  We have all the services we need at our fingertips, and we can be at the beach or in the mountains in just a few hours.  Definite positives.  We don’t have four nice seasons though - we have an excruciating summer, a beautiful but quick fall, a gray,wet,ugly winter, and a soggy, tornado-ridden spring.  Actually, I’m not complaining about spring - I love big thunderstorms and severe weather.  As long as the power stays on it can thunder and lightning for days and I’m okay. So what do we do? Stay? Go?  Keep looking? We both liked what we saw in a week in South Dakota. Do we look until we’re too old to move?  If we could snap our fingers and just live where we’d like, we’d both go to The Netherlands.  We feel at home there, pretty sad when I feel like a visitor in so many places in the U.S.  My soul feels at home in Salem.  I feel at home when I stand on the prairie and look at the huge sky and rolling hills.  I guess it all comes back to not being FROM anywhere.  In Maine, there are Mainers and outsiders.  It’s very clear.  In Minnesota they’re warm and welcoming, but there are customs, foods, traditions, and basic traits that make one a Minnesotan - I don’t possess any of them, though I don’t think they’d care. I’d just always feel like a visitor.  I didn’t feel that in Kansas, they’re good salt of the earth people, not nosy enough to ask where you’re from or where you go to church.  New Hampshire was the same way.  There didn’t seem to be a divide between born here and moved here folks. I’ve been in Tennessee since ‘93 and I’m still not considered a local.  I’m okay with that.  Not having picked up the customs and quirks of a state or even a region, I can’t really claim a “home”.  If pressed I’d probably say Alaska because that’s where I experienced everything from childhood skinned knees to birthing a baby.  But I can’t say that if I stepped off a plane there tomorrow I’d take a deep breath and say, “Ahhh, home!”  Moving to a new home every two to three years during my formative years made me resilient, it made me friendly.  I make friends easily, but I don’t get too attached - and getting me to really open up, well...

It also gave me a good attitude toward not-so-good places.  Even if you can’t find something positive, hey - you’ll only have to endure it for a couple years, right? (twenty-five years later...)  It gave me the gift of curiosity and of emotional self-sufficiency.  It just didn’t give me a hometown.    So I’m looking, always looking.  I spend hours scouring real estate and then looking up information on citydata.com and other sites.  If I ever move I’ll know more about the place than the folks who already live there.   

Thanks for listening to my scatter-brained ramblings today.  There’s no point to any of this, really.  I yearn for a place that doesn’t exist.  I long for home, but I suppose it’s all in my mind - some magical place that fits and feels right.   I wonder how many people actually have that.  I wonder how many need it?  I’ve spent a lifetime blooming where planted, and I think that’s a crucial skill.  I’m certainly not knocking it.  I just wonder what it feels like to be the plant who gets placed in the perfect environment for growth and health.  Please don’t mistake this post for sorrow or a cry for help - it’s not.  It’s really more of a thinking out loud sort of thing.   Just pondering, trying to work out whether it’s safer to stay put or make a leap.  Will any place be better than the last?  Who knows?  I do know that there are places where being authentic is easier than others.   Guess I’ll just keep looking...any hints?

[bonepoem]

We celebrated my mom's birthday at my grandparents (her parents) place today and to wrap up the evening we watched a special tape of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in New York because my cousin was in it as a drum major

The thing about my cousin is that he's a transgender guy like me and my grandparents were very vocal about correcting themselves on his pronouns and his name, even though my cousin wasn’t present at the party (which was AWESOME)

I was so happy for my cousin and that my grandparents were treating him well that I didn't even realize that they've been doing that for him but not for me. They still use my old name and pronouns and I've been out to them for a year. My cousin's been out for a few months.

I didn't even notice until my mom pointed it out when we left the party. She's going to confront them about it and honestly I don't know how to feel about it. How do you confront the fact that you are not the favored grandchild when you and your sibling are the only grandchildren who live in the state, the rest living several states away???

I can't believe I didn't even notice. I was so thrilled for my cousin I didn't even notice my grandparents were calling me a girl's name and feminine pronouns. Wow. Kind of hurt by that. Not gonna lie. Really doesn't make me feel loved or cared about by them. At all. Ugh.

And to think they always claim to miss me and want me to visit more often even though i visit at least once every few weeks and stay for hours each time wtf

[phff-forevermeanttobe-blog]

Chapter twenty nine

Harry and Rebecca had been traveling a lot lately. Rebecca had went to fashion week in New York. Then they both went to the Invictus Games. After the games they went to D.C. and spent some time. Then came back to London for awhile. Rebecca and Harry then went to New York to attend a Halloween party. Over the weekend they went to Windsor for Harry's grandparents wedding anniversary. But this morning they had to leave because they were flying into D.C. For thanksgiving. They had decided last years schedule worked good so they would be doing the same thing this year and wouldn't be back in London until Christmas.

"Harry are you ready?" Rebecca yelled.

She was standing in a large central room in Windsor palace. Standing next to her was the queen, Philip, and Charles and Camilla.

"I swear he doesn't get in any sort of rush." Charles said with a chuckle.

"No he doesn't." Rebecca said shifting her handbag onto her arm to put on her gloves.

"So any special plans for while you are in the states?" Camilla asked Rebecca.

"Well we will have thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. If Harry can hurry up!" She said adding the last part loud enough for him to hear it. "Then I think we will go up to New York for a bit; maybe try to get out to Connecticut if we can."

"You are still planning on coming to Sandringham with Harry, aren't you?" The queen asked inquisitively.

"Of course. I am going to do some shopping while in New York." She said giving the queen a smile.

"Oh no." Philip said laughing.

Finally they saw Harry coming down the hallway towards the room. "Have you been waiting on me?" He said smiling. He was followed by a few guys carrying tons of Luggage.

"Dear lord Harry we will be lucky to get to my parents before tomorrow." Rebecca said as he got closer.

"Harry you can not keep this lady waiting that long. You have a very tight schedule." Camilla said giving Harry a smile.

"I know she keeps me on my toes." Harry said giving Camilla a hug. Then turning to his father and hugging him.

"Have William and Kate already left?" Harry asked looking for George and Charlotte.

"Yes they left earlier. They had to get to her sisters house. I'm sure we won't see them until around Christmas." Elizabeth said to Harry.

"Well I love you, and I'm sorry we have to leave." Harry said giving his grandparents a hug.

"I will make sure he FaceTime's you every weekend." Rebecca said to Elizabeth and Philip.

"Oh yes we do love that." Philip said with a smile.

"And make sure he calls me every night." Charles said to Rebecca.

"I will, and if he doesn't I will." Rebecca said smiling as she saw the driver come into the room signaling that the car was ready.

"Well we better get going. We will see all of you at Christmas." Rebecca said giving Camilla a hug as she was the closest one to her.

"Yes we love you two. Be safe." Charles said to Harry and Rebecca.

The plane ride was long and very annoying for Rebecca who couldn't manage to get anything done, and was so ready to see her family. They finally landed and it was dark outside but wasn't too late. She told her driver to get them to her parents quickly and he did just that. It was no time before the black suburban was pulling into her parents driveway.

As Rebecca stepped out of the car she saw the front door open and her mother came out. Jacqueline ran to Rebecca and gave her a big hug.

"Oh finally all my babies are home." Jacqueline said as she finished hugging Rebecca she moved to Harry.

"Have you been baking?" Harry asked her already knowing the answer.

"Yes me and mom have been baking pies all day." She said as she grabbed one of the bags and started walking them towards the house.

"Rebecca you will not believe who is here." Jacqueline said and just as she did Harry saw an older lady walk out of the front door.

"Hello Rebecca." The lady said. Rebecca looked up to see her dads mom standing there.

"Oh my god. What are you doing?" Rebecca said going up and giving her a hug.

"Well palm beach was getting a little bit boring so I though I'd come see my only child and his family for the holidays." The woman said Harry thought she looked stern. But she had a smile on her face so he wasn't sure. He had never heard anyone ever talk about her.

They all got inside before he was introduced to the woman. "I'm Rebecca's other grandmother, Eleanor Rutherford." She said offering her hand for him to shake.

"I'm Harry Wales. It's a pleasure to meet you." He said he didn't know why he said Wales he also didn't know why this old woman made him feel so nervous.

"It's very nice to meet you too finally." The lady said as they made their way into the living room. She talked with such a unique accent. One that Harry had heard Rebecca use a few times at events when she was talking to some of her old friends.

"Oh my goodness." Rebecca said as she walked into the living room and saw her nephew awake and playing with Amelia's finger.

"Maxwell look who's here." Jackson said to his son, as he pointed to his sister. "It's your aunt Becca."

Rebecca went and set down on the couch with her brother and his wife and baby leaving Harry to set in a chair by himself. Harry said hello to Bettye before setting down.

"So has he started going by max?" Harry asked with a smile at the baby.

"No and he isn't going to." Jackson said knowing that Harry was joking.

"I did not name him max." Amelia said as she handed the baby to Rebecca.

"Well my mother didn't name me Harry but here I am." Harry said smiling.

Rebecca looked around the room. She was setting on the couch with Amelia and Jackson and the baby. Her mom was sitting on the other couch with her two grandmothers. Harry was sitting in one of the arm chairs.

"Where is dad and Gunter?" She asked noticing they weren't there.

"Your brother is upstairs playing his new game and your father is around here somewhere." Jackie said. "I should probably serve our finger foods. Shouldn't I mom?" She said looking over at her mother.

"Yes before it gets too late." Bettye said to her daughter.

Jackie got up and walked out of the room; no doubt on her way to the kitchen to get the food.

"So granny how are you?" Rebecca asked Bettye.

"I'm good. I have been so busy lately. And I have a new place we need to eat at when you come to New York." Bettye said to Rebecca.

"Where?" Rebecca asked her.

"Well me and a few of the girls went to Tiffany's new restaurant and it was so good." Bettye said to Rebecca.

"Oh yes I saw that they opened that." Amelia said joining the conversation.

"Carter! Gunter! Come eat!" Jacqueline yelled before walking back into the living room with a tray of finger foods. She set them down on the coffee table, and the butler came behind her carrying a tray of sodas.

"Harry how are you?" Carter said as he came in the room and set down in the other armchair.

"I am well. How has work been?" Harry  asked Carter as he noticed Gunter come in and set in the floor next to the fire place.

"It's been going good. Very busy though. Have you been doing much work lately?" Carter asked Harry as he got a plate of food and looked over to see his wife and daughter in the middle of a conversation.

"Well, when I can find time for it. Rebecca and I have been traveling so much lately, but when I get a chance I'm working." Harry said as everyone was in there own side conversations.

"Yes, well maybe one day while you are in you can come to work with me." Carter said to Harry who he thought was a very nice man for Rebecca to marry.

"Where are we going to spend Christmas?" Jackson said speaking up so everyone could hear him.

"Well I wanted to check with everyone first. I know Rebecca and Harry will be using the same schedule they did last year, and I know that you and Amelia were think you might have to cut the festivities short to go to Switzerland with her family. So I know Eleanor and mom have both been wanting to schedule a trip to Paris and I think Christmas will be the perfect time. We will still have decorations and our regular Christmas traditions, but It will be easier on both of you since we will be close to England and the ski resort in Switzerland that Amelia's family will be at." Jackie said proposing the idea to everyone in the room.

Everyone agreed that it sounded like a great idea. They all agreed that they would still be in New York for New Years.

They soon were all going off to their bedrooms. Rebecca and Harry included who were both very tired.

The next morning Rebecca woke up very early to go to a thanksgiving 5k. When she got back everyone was still just waking up, except for Jackie who had instructed everyone to come down as soon as they got up to get a light breakfast of mostly pastry options that they were allowed to take to their rooms so they wouldn't be in the kitchen while Jacqueline was busy preparing the holiday dinner.

Rebecca got her breakfast and headed  upstairs to start getting ready. "Good morning, Rebecca." Amelia said as they passed in the hallway. Rebecca said good morning and quickly asked how the baby slept.

After she got into her room she shook Harry's leg to try and wake him. She then walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on, and then walked back out of the bathroom and set down on the bed to eat her breakfast.

"Harry I turned the shower on. If you want to take a quick one you can, but you need to hurry because you have to get your breakfast and I need a shower." Rebecca said in a loud voice to the waking Harry.

"I'll go get breakfast first then I'll take a shower after you." Harry said stretching.

Rebecca continued to eat her breakfast as she watched Harry get out of bed in just his boxers. He put shorts and a shirt on and stretched some more before walking out of the room.

They had both ate and Rebecca had taken her shower. She was now standing at the bathroom sink getting ready, And Harry was about to get in the shower. They had the television on in the bedroom and you could hear the Macy's thanksgiving day parade playing in the background.

"Is anyone else coming today?" Harry asked as he took his shirt off.

"Yeah my moms family will be here. They will start arriving within the next hour or so. After you get ready you can go downstairs and set in the family room dad will be in there watching football. Then after all the guys get here they will go outside and play football. Then they will come back in and watch more football probably." Rebecca said to Harry as she watched him in the mirror get undressed.

"What are you looking at?" He asked noticing her watching him. He moved up behind her and kissed her cheek. He then opened the shower door and got in.

Rebecca did light makeup while Harry was in the shower. It didn't take long though for Harry to be drying off. "Hey I laid your outfit out in there on the bed." Rebecca said seeing that he was getting out of the shower as she put mascara on.

Harry went out into the bedroom and started getting his clothes on as Rebecca loosely curled her hair. He then went into the bathroom to fix his hair and brush his teeth, which Rebecca had already done. As he did that Rebecca finished up her hair and then got her clothes on.

"You smell good." She said as she walked back into the bathroom with her clothes on and touched up her hair in the mirror. Harry couldn't help but notice her lip stick that was the same color as her jacket.

"Thanks, so do you." Harry said smelling her perfume.

"I better go on down." Rebecca said since she would have to greet everyone since her mom would probably be in the kitchen.

"Okay babe. I'm ready too." Harry said as he put his tooth brush down and wiped his mouth with a hand towel.

They both went down stairs and Harry went into the family room where Jackson and Gunter were setting.

Rebecca went and checked on her dad who was in his study preparing to film his thanksgiving message.

She then heard the doorbell and went to answer it. It was the first of her aunts, uncles, and cousins that would be arriving.

Rebecca’s Outfit

[puckconnolly]

@thescorpioracesfestival Tourist Challenge 9: Souvenir (and we finally get some screen time with Sean Kendrick)

Once again, I’m sorry this challenge and the last two were late, but I’m all caught up now! 

Links to challenges 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

as always, shoutout to @colestclairs / @suriels (she switched blogs but you can find her posts on either, or just search the tag “claire&rowan”)

Challenge 9 under the cut. Enjoy!

Rowan and Claire made their way to the O’Brien’s house, laughing and giggling the whole time. Rowan had invited Claire over after hearing that she was less than wanted at her own home. She figured it might be nice for Claire to talk to people who were excited she was racing, not scared.

They had barely made it through the front door when Rowan’s grandfather yelled from the kitchen, “Who wants November cakes? I just finished them, and I think they’re my best batch yet!”

Rowan and Claire made a beeline to the kitchen. The faint smell of oranges hung in the air, swirled with sugar and melted butter. Rowan wished her apartment back in New York smelled as good as her grandparents’ kitchen did. Claire and Rowan plopped down on the stools and inhaled the November cakes.

“So Grandpa,” Rowan started, mouth full of gooey November cake, “What was is like when you raced in the Scorpio Races?”

Chester smiled clasped his hands together with glee. He had been waiting to tell someone other than Amelia about his time racing. “Well, it all started when I was out for a walk on the beach one day.” Chester called back those memories he looked back on with great fondness.

Twenty years ago, a twenty-years-younger Chester strolled along the beach near Skarmouth. He noticed something black bobbing in the water and got closer to check it out. He knew the risks, he was a born and bred Thisbian, but, like most of the islanders, he was drawn to the dangerous horses.

The capall uisce barreled out of the water, pushing against the tide and ran straight over to Chester. Up until that point in his life, Chester had been content to partake in the festivities surrounding the races, but then that all changed.

That capall uisce that didn’t rip him to shreds and instead stood tall, facing Chester, changed everything.

Chester had taken a tentative step forward, arm outstretched. He knew he’d probably lose his hand, but didn’t care. He knew the horse would probably bolt and run back into the sea.

But he didn’t.

Instead, the capall mirrored Chester and took a tentative step forward, and nuzzled his snout into Chester’s outstretched palm.

“Blackberry,” Chester had named him, for he was as black as the night and much sweeter than any capall uisce ought to be.

Chester didn’t have any rope, but Blackberry had seemed to understand him, seemed to know that he supposed to follow Chester. Together, the two made their way to Malvern Stables. He was greeted by Sean Kendrick, whom he had grown up with. Sean had given him a look of surprise when he’d seen the capall following calmly behind. What Sean hadn’t seen, Chester recalled, was the half loaf of banana bread in his pocket that Blackberry got dangerously close to stealing.

Sean had helped fit Blackberry with a saddle and bridle and had found him a place at the stables. Every day after that, Chester had snuck off to the stables after Amelia had gone into town. It wasn’t that Amelia disapproved of racing, it was just that Chester wanted to make it a surprise the night of the parade.

So every day, he had trained Blackberry, gently coaxing the horse to trust him. He would give Blackberry blackberries when he had done well, and Blackberry had taken a liking to his namesake. In no time at all, Blackberry and Chester had formed a bond. People had starting paying attention to them during training. Sean had helped Chester with the art of riding, as Chester had never ridden a capall uisce before. Sean had stopped racing many years before. Chester once asked him why and Sean replied that is wasn’t the same without Corr.

Though Chester progressed in his training, he was still a cautious rider. He had been petrified of going too fast and had just wanted to ride Blackberry. Sean and Chester would ride up on the cliffs, away from the more ferocious capaill uisce. Sean explained that he had done this with his beloved Puck because she had raced her island horse, Dove, and the capaill had seen Dove as dinner. Chester had felt quite special after hearing that.

So, for weeks, the two of them would train, more so Chester than Blackberry, until the day of the race. Puck, sadly, had ratted out Chester’s surprise to Amelia, but that hadn’t mattered. The race was here, and Chester had Amelia, Sean, and Puck on the edges of their seats.

What was the race like? Chester looked back fondly to the sand scratching up his shins and the salt of the ocean spraying in his face. He remembered Blackberry’s wild mane whipping in the wind, hitting Chester’s forearms, but he barely even noticed. Sean had told him to go close to the water, because so many of the other capaill were drawn to the sea, but Blackberry was drawn to Chester’s easy laugh and patient voice, and also whatever food was in his pocket. He wouldn’t care about the sea singing her sweet song to lure the capaill uisce back to her. Sean had been right, of course.

 Once the race started, Chester knew immediately that he wouldn’t win. And that was ok. He had learned a new skill, had fun, and made a new friend. And that was all that mattered to him.

So Blackberry had merely trotted along the shore, water splashing up from his hooves. Chester watched in fascination as riders fell or lost control of their capaill, while he merrily strode by.

He had heard Puck scream at him to GO FASTER WHAT ARE YOU DOING? but simply did not care. He ended up in third place, and was content.

The watchers of the race had formed in a mob around the winner, while Sean, Puck, and Amelia made their way over to Chester and Blackberry. Amelia had taken a picture of the most joyful Chester that had ever existed with his arm slung lazily around the shoulders of Blackberry.

Chester thought back sadly to when he and Sean had released Blackberry back to his home in the sea. He knew he couldn’t keep Blackberry, but he felt he was losing a dear friend. He never told anyone, but each year, he looked down on the training to see if Blackberry had resurfaced, with no luck.

He didn’t tell that last bit to Rowan and Claire though. He didn’t want them to pity him. It was a tentative friendship between man and beast. It had only lasted a month. But Chester still wished he’d had more time.

“So,” Rowan said, breaking Chester out of his memory, “Do you think Blackberry is still alive? Have you ever looked for him?”

“No,” Chester shook his head, “I haven’t seen him since.” He cleared his throat and turned to Claire. “I hope your capall--”

“Elemental,” Claire offered.

“Elemental,” Chester smiled. “I hope your Elemental is as special to you as my Blackberry was to me.”

Claire smiled back and assured Chester than he was. Chester seemed happy with the answer and excused himself to let the girls have time to themselves.

“Wow,” Claire sighed.

“I know! I never knew my grandpa was so cool!” Rowan exclaimed.

Claire agreed. “Hey, I got you something,” she changed the subject.

“A present? For me?” Rowan asked in delight.

“It’s nothing crazy,” Claire assured her, “just something to remember me by.”

Rowan scoffed, “I don’t have to remember you. You’re coming with me, silly!”

Claire looked down at her hands. “I know, but just in case.” She quickly handed Rowan the gift.

“Socks?” Rowan questioned.

“Wool socks that I made myself,” Claire clarified. “From our sheep.”

Rowan smiled and immediately put them on. “I love them!” And she wasn’t just saying that, like she did with most presents she received. Rowan truly loved them simply because Claire had made them.

[obsidiancorner]

Tag Meme

I was tagged by the stellar @astroshorts. Thanks for the tag, my lovely. xoxo

The last…

Drink: Pomegranate Seltzer Water

Phone call: I missed a phone call from my boyfriend earlier when he was at the store. The last person I actually talked to, though, was my beloved little sister (I don’t care if I’m only a minute older. She’s the only little sister I get dammit.)

Text message: Also my sister

Song you listened to: Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

Time you cried: two words: Story Core. That shit had me in tears.

Have you ever…

Dated someone twice: I have, in fact, dated Rob twice. 

Kissed someone and regretted it: yep.

Been cheated on: Yep

Lost someone special: Yes. Both grandparents on my mom’s side were incredibly special people and I miss them both dearly. 

Been depressed: short answer- yes

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yep. In my early-mid twenties, I was friends with a functioning alcoholic and she would always con me into trying to keep up with her... because I was stupid, I tried. It never ended well. DO NOT DO IT. Your liver will thank you. 

Three favorite colors: Blue, purple, and green

In the last year have you…

Made new friends: I joined Tumblr this year, so all my mutuals count (I think?) but I’m especially close to a few of them. 

Laughed until you cried: In this house and/or with the sister I have? Absolutely. There is a lot of laughter in this house, despite the chronic depression that my entire family is plagued with. 

Met someone who changed you: Yes. They didn’t make me. They just inspired me to be better and I changed for the better as a result. 

Found out who your friends are: the ones who constantly support me and push me on, despite my insecurities. 

Kissed someone on your facebook list: Aside from Rob (because duh), no. 

Do you have any pets: A beautiful dilute torbie (cat) named Kokomo and a Shi-chon named Sadie. 

Do you want to change your name: My last name eventually... maybe? I don’t know if Rob and I will ever marry... but aside from that? No. 

What did you do for your last birthday: Sat at home, probably perusing Tumblr.

What time did you wake up: I’m a parent of a child on the Spectrum who keeps absurd sleeping hours... I couldn’t even begin to tell you. It was still dark and I hadn’t had my coffee yet so brain functions were at a bare-minimum, so there’s that. 

What were you doing last night at midnight: Watching That 70′s Show with Rob before bed.

Name something you can’t wait for: the day I can get my drawing tablet

When was the last time you saw your mom: I live with her because Rob and I need help with Jenna. She requires constant supervision and is usually a two adults to one kid ratio requirement. 

What are you listening to rn: Rob is watching Season 2 of The Walking Dead right now so lots of screaming and zombie gurgles?... it’s just kind of on in the background. So is the home screen tinkling of the PS4, the occasional popping of the carbonation in my seltzer water, and the clickity-clack of my typing. 

Have you ever talked to someone named Tom: There were several “Thomas” boys in my school growing up... So occasionally from elementary school up until high school graduation. 

Something that gets on your nerves: people that bully others online.     -> this was astroshorts’ answer and I’m leaving it there because I’m the one who argues for or helps support the one being bullied. Anon posters get argued for because they probably won’t come out to defend themselves... hence anon to begin with... but if it’s someone who will fight back on their own? I just give support. 

Most visited website: Tumblr, my Google Drive, and my Redbubble store after I’ve posted anything about it. AO3, as well, when I post stuff. What can I say? I’m addicted to the sinking feeling when a piddly amount of views come in... That’s a lie. I’m usually painfully optimistic only to have that optimism squashed. lol *shrug* oh well. 

Hair Color: a medium brown.... It’s my natural color. 

Long or short hair: I usually keep my hair long. an inch or two below the shoulders at a minimum. Usually it’s around the small of my back. 

Do you have a crush on someone: Rob, I guess? Does it count if you’re in a committed relationship with the person? 

What do you like about yourself: I’m opinionated... And whichever person hit my inbox with that comment about loving reading my opinions on stuff, I freakin’ love you. Your Anon comment made me cry. 

Blood type: A Negative. 

Nickname: Beccaboo. Got it in band in high school and it’s just sorta stuck. 

Relationship status: Long-term committed relationship 

Zodiac: Cancer sun, with Mercury and Gemini heavily influencing my whol chart. 

Prounouns: she/her

Favorite tv shows: iZombie, The Walking Dead (and Talking Dead), That 70′s Show, 

Tattoos: 4- A gemini sign (gemini/cancer cusp but mercury is heavy enough an influence that my cancer sun doesn’t show much) on my right shoulder, a star pattern on the small of my back, an autism one on my left side, and a locked heart on my left wrist.  

Right or left-handed: depends on what I’m doing. For writing, right. For almost everything else, left.-> oddly enough, astroshorts, same. 

Surgery: Tonsils when I was 6. 

Sport: Horseback riding and Marching Band. Anyone who says people who march don’t have any athleticism, I call bullshit. Marching Band members put in long hours of constant marching and playing through a week. They work not only arms and legs, but lung capacity as well. It takes an incredible amount of effort to be a good marching band. That means keeping up top lung performance at the 7:59 time mark as you did before the first minute of an 8-minute show is through. I can promise you that after having marched, sometimes with ungodly spiteful step size, for that long, even a football player would be saying that what band members do takes athleticism. Fact. We had several football players in our band who had to skip their halftime talk with their coach to march with the band. And that’s not even mentioning constant playing through parade routes that can range anywhere from one to three miles in length on average. Marching Band is a goddamn sport. 

Vacation: I’ve been to Australia, the Continental Divide in Colorado, all over Ohio, Washington D.C., North Carolina, New York City, Illinois, Lake Huron in Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, and the Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. I want to go to Greece though.  

Pair of shoes: My Converse sneakers. They have a nifty design on them. I also have a super-comfy pair of stilettos that I love dearly. 

Eating: what about it? I used to not and was in the “target weight range” but looked sickly because of malnourishment. Now I do eat and am somewhat overweight but look and feel much healthier. For clarity, it wasn’t really an eating disorder. I ate when I was hungry but was always stressed so I almost never ate. I would go days without eating before realizing I hadn’t eaten in forever and would eat a bowl of cereal or a couple slices of pizza. 

Drinking: only on select nights when I “wine and write”... alcoholism runs in my family so I definitely don’t make a habit of drinking too much. In my youth it was something to do with the crew... now it’s just me and my characters every so often. Never to handle a problem. that’s a slippery slope I have no business being on. 

I’m about to: go to bed, probably. it’s 10:58 pm at this moment. 

Waiting for: the day I can get a better computer for art and my drawing tablet. 

Want: the drawing tablet, in the most immediate sense. In the long term, though, it is to know that Jenna will eventually be able to make on her own. Rob and I won’t be around forever and I worry about what will happen to her when we are gone. If we can’t get her current path altered to one better suited for her needs, I’m terrified of what will happen to her if something were to happen to me and Rob prematurely... even more so when we are all older. 

Get married: Maybe someday but Rob and I are in no rush to even get engaged. We love each other deeply and are in a committed relationship and that is good enough for us. 

Career: Right now I’m a stay-at-home mom. But I would love to get an art career to take off... though the odds of that are slim to none. 

Which is better:

Hugs or kisses: hugs. I’m picky about who touches me at all... so I’m especially picky about who is kissing me. 

Lips or eyes: eyes

Shorter or taller: I’m 4 feet 10 inches tall (1.47 meters for my metric friends) so take a guess... I need someone taller to help me reach shit.

Older or younger: older

Nice arms or stomach: arms. Dear god, arms. 

Hook up or relationship: relationship

Troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant... I guess? I tend to keep my nose pretty clean. 

Have you…

Kissed a stranger: No

Drunken hard liquor: I’m 29...

Lost glasses/contact lenses: I don’t have either... though I probably should... It’s getting harder to see some things clearly. White lettering on a tv’s guide screen? difficult from too far away. Digital clocks? tough to decipher from too far away. I used to be able to read that stuff from another room. 

Turned someone down: Yes

Sex on the first date: Yes.... but we had been friends for years so it wasn’t exactly the same as, say, a blind date that ended in a one-night stand. (No judgement. You all do you... just make sure you’re protected.)

Broke someone’s heart: Yes. Bonus points for me for two people breaking each other’s hearts simultaneously. I’m an over achiever and he was too. But I miss him, even though it could never have been... both of them, actually. timing is a bitch sometimes. 

Had a broken heart: Yes... see above

Been arrested: Nope but I did grow up in a small town and worked as a third shift server at a local restaurant so they let me sit in the back of their cop car while they chatted with me while I was on break once. They were fun cops... went to high school with one. 

Cried when someone died: yes... isn’t that fairly commonplace when someone who is close to you or you love dies?

Fallen for a friend: Rob was a friend for years before we started dating. I’ve known him for almost 15 years and we’ve been together for 10. Other than Rob, though, a couple times. See mutual heartbreak comment a few bulletpoints above.  

Do you believe in:

Yourself: No

Miracles: I believe stuff happens that has no viable explanation at present. That doesn’t necessarily equate to a miracle though. It just means it can’t be explained right now. 

Love at first sight: No

Santa claus: Who made this meme?

Kiss on the first date: Of course.

I’m going to be a fun-sucker and not tag anyone else because my primary circle is in the Dragon Age fandom and I know most of them have already done it. If anyone WANTS to do this, of course, feel free and say I tagged you so I can see your answers! <3

[justanoutlawfic]

Domesticity prompt Thanksgiving for Red Snowing please ! :) (You could literally make up what a thanksgiving is like and I'd believe you no matter what as my general perception of them is through Brooklyn Nine-Nine lol)

Here is a bit of Thanksgiving from me to you! :) This ended up being a bit more Daddy Charming than I expected haha. I’ve set this as a divergence of season 2, where Red Snowing didn’t find out about Neal being Henry’s dad until they got back to Storybrooke (and obviously in a world where Red Snowing is together).

This was submitted from this prompt list. Send me a number and a pairing and I’ll write a ficlet. :)

Also on AO3/FF

“It’sa good thing we don’t have Thanksgivings in our land, because that dinner wouldsuck.”

It was a joke, one made under shock. When Emma hadcome off that boat with a strange man in tow, they didn’t know what to think.Neal was Henry’s father, which meant that they were all related to Rumpelstiltskinin some way. At the time, they still had some odd feelings for him, beingrelated to Regina was weird enough as it was.

In time, though, things had changed. Ruby, Snow andDavid had gotten closer with both Henry’s adoptive grandmother and hisgrandfather, not to mention his father as well. Things weren’t always happy, infact there would always be squabbling, but they were still a family and wouldn’thave it any other way.

What they didn’t realize was that Emma had overheardDavid’s words about Thanksgivings. The truth was, in Storybrooke, they didn’t havethat holiday over the curse. Regina had only incorporated the ones they had inthe Enchanted Forest, modernizing them however she could. Henry had read aboutit, though, and he wanted to have it.

“Come on, Mom, it’d be so much fun. We could have abig dinner at Granny’s,” he said.

Emma shook her head. “I don’t think your grandparentswould be okay with it, at least not your Grandpa David.”

“Gramps loves holidays, he always goes all out forthem.”

“I once heard him say that Thanksgiving would suck,”Emma said, not wanting him to know the full version of that sentence, she feltit wouldn’t help. “Look, I’d like to have one, I never had a real Thanksgivinggrowing up. I just don’t think it’s their thing, kid.”

Little did she know, Ruby had been listening in on theconversation as she had come up to tell them that dinner was close to beingready. She turned on the stairs and headed back down to the kitchen. Snowlooked up from the roast she had pulled out of the oven.

“Weren’t you getting Emma and Henry?”

“I was.” She turned to David. “You screwed up.”

David raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Do you remember what you said about Thanksgiving,after Neal came to Storybrooke?”

“Um…no.”

“You said dinners with the whole family would suck. Atthe time, I thought it was funny, but it turns out our daughter overheard. Shealways wanted to have a Thanksgiving, but now she thinks you don’t want one.”

David tilted his head back, shutting his eyes. He hadsaid those things out of shock. How many people would react well to finding outthat the Dark One was their son’s other grandfather? That the man who had abandonedhis daughter was back in her life? Of course now he liked both Rumple and Neal.He hadn’t ever meant for Emma to overhear.

“We need to fix this,” he said.

“How?” Snow asked.

Henry’s voice came from the kitchen doorway. “OperationTurkey,” he said. His grandparents looked up in surprise. “Don’t worry, Mom isstill upstairs, she didn’t hear a thing. We can plan the best Thanksgiving forher.”

Ruby grinned and ruffled his hair. “I like the way youthink, kiddo. But we don’t know much about Thanksgiving.”

“I have a plan for that too.”

The next day when Emma headed out to the station,Henry sat his three grandparents down. He held up a bunch of tapes. Snow tookthem, studying the sides.

“FRIENDS, Will and Grace, How I Met Your Mother, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, CharlieBrown…what are all of these?”

“Some of the best Thanksgiving specials,” Henryexplained. “We can learn a lot about the holiday from these.”

David beamed. “That’s a great idea.”

They marathoned the tapes, with Snow insisting ontaking notes of course. They did find it funny that one of the How I Met YourMother episodes included an actress that looked very much like Emma. They got afew good recipes, though Snow and Ruby promised not to make any trifles likeRachel did in FRIENDS. David found the meal in Charlie Brown the best and feltthat Emma would like a dinner of popcorn, pretzel sticks, toast and jellybeans,only to get shot down.

Henry was in charge ofthe guest list. He invited Regina, Rumple, Belle, Neal and many of the otherresidents of Storybrooke. Ruby got Granny to agree to shut the diner down forthe afternoon, since they couldn’t fit everyone into the loft. Snow and Rubytold her they’d help her cook the meal and would provide a lot of the food.David was given the shopping list and he headed to the store, grabbingeverything they would need. Luckily, despite the town not celebrating, they hada lot of the usual Thanksgiving treats. As he was heading out, he got an idea…

Emma woke up on Thanksgiving morning, feeling asthough it was just another day, as it always was. There had been a few homesthat actually celebrated, but didn’t allow her to take part in the festivities.She knew her father’s feelings on the holiday and wasn’t about to make him feeluncomfortable. After changing into a comfy sweater and some jeans, she headeddownstairs. Henry was on the couch with David, the Macy’s Thanksgiving DayParade was on the television. She did her best not to give him a scolding look.

“What’s this?”

“Seems like a parade,” David said. “You guys seem tohave these for every holiday.”

Emma shrugged. “It’s tradition.”

“Have you ever been to one, Mom?” Henry asked.

“Once, when I lived in New York City. It was okay.”

“Maybe we could go to one, one year,” David suggested.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, it looks like fun. Look at that, a Garfieldballoon, that’s my favorite comic.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile a bit as she sat downnext to her dad. She almost didn’t notice that her moms weren’t in the loft.That was until she looked around and didn’t see them anywhere.

“Where’s Mom and Mama?” She asked.

“They had to help Granny with something,” David said. “We’llhead down there later for lunch, I’m sure you could use a grilled cheese.”

“Sounds good,” Emma said with a slight nod.

Once the parade was over, David and Henry went tochange. When they were done, they headed down to the diner. Emma noticed thatit was pretty packed, with Regina’s Mercedes and Rumple’s Cadillac in theparking lot. Maybe she could convince them to have a family lunch, even if it wasn’tan official Thanksgiving meal…

She walked inside the diner and her mouth droppedopen. There was a large table set up with all the typical Thanksgiving foods:turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes. There was even Regina’sfamous lasagna. On the counter were various pies and cookies. Everyone seemedto be in the diner from Regina and Neal to Rumpelstiltskin and Belle. Even Novaand Leroy were there along with Geppetto, August and Archie.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Snow exclaimed, walking over andwrapping her arms around Emma.

“I…I don’t understand,” she sputtered out. “I didn’t think…”

“We’re in this realm now,” Ruby pointed out.

“Plus, any excuse to eat turkey,” Neal joked with agrin.

Emma couldn’t believe it. The entire crazy family treewas present. She had never had a meal with this many people, let alone aThanksgiving dinner. Everything smelt absolutely delicious. Ruby wrapped an armaround her and lead her over to her seat at the table. Everyone dug into the magnificentfeast that was prepared. Emma had never tasted a turkey that had tasted sogood. She even agreed to eat some of the vegetables, everything was delicious.She wasn’t sure if it was her mothers’ and grandmother’s cooking, or just thefact that they were all there together. They all talked, bickered and laughed,sharing stories from over the years.

After dessert, Emma felt it was time to take a break.She loved hanging out with everyone, but it was still a bit overwhelming. Sheheaded outside as the sun was setting and settled down onto one of the chairs.She heard the door open behind her, followed by her father’s voice.

“Too full for one more meal?” He asked.

Emma turned around and found him holding a paper platefilled with jelly beans, toast, pretzel sticks and popcorn. “Charlie Brown.” Shegrinned. “Let me guess, Henry had you watched it?”

“I happened to like it,” David said, sitting next toher and setting it down.

“I grew up watching it.” She popped a piece of popcornin her mouth. “I used to envision a meal like that. As much as I loved theturkey and all, I think this is my favorite.”

“I’m glad.” David was quiet for a moment as he munchedon a jelly bean. “I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what? This day has been amazing.”

“I know you overheard what I said about Thanksgiving whenNeal came here.”

“Dad…”

“Look, Em, at the time, I was caught off guard. For awhile, I had been the only man in Henry’s life. Suddenly, he had not just hisfather, but another grandpa. Plus, I didn’t know either of them very well. Nealhad hurt you, I didn’t want him to do that again. We just barely trustedRegina. I couldn’t picture us having a meal together,” he explained. He gaveher a soft smile. “You changed my feelings about that.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “I did?”

“Emma, you’re such a good person. You always want togive people a second chance. You stood up for Regina when no one else would.Heck, even with me.”

“What about you?”

“During the curse, you gave me the benefit of thedoubt. You trusted that I hadn’t hurt Abigail. You felt the same about yourmother. Even with your mama, she told me how you gave her a job when she quitGranny’s. You believe in others, you’re a true hero.”

Emma felt herself blushing, still not used to suchpraise. She leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around her.

“Maybe it’s genetic. After all, I’m the daughter ofthree amazing ones.”

“Your moms, but me…”

“Dad, you risked your life for all of us, severaltimes, myself included. You’re my hero. The weird thing is, when I was younger,the Prince Charming from Disney’s Snow White was too. I guess the whole time Iknew the truth.”

David beamed, kissing thetop of her head. Emma let out a deep breath, feeling very content. Little didthey know that Henry, Ruby and Snow were watching from the window with a smile.Operation Turkey had been a success.

[missbemaeve]

I CLOSE MY EYES AT NIGHT WONDERING WHERE WOULD I BE WITHOUT YOU IN MY LIFE  - YSTLC

▷ thanksgiving, nineteen-eighty-three

i needed the shelter of someone's arms and there you were,  i needed someone to understand my ups and downs and there you were ( how sweet it is to be loved by you ; james taylor )

thursday, november twenty-fourth, nineteen eighty-three

maeve twisted a stray thread that hung off the end of a worn, terry-cloth dish towel as she stood in front of james houseman’s kitchen sink with a new feeling of dread. looking out through the window, she watched as the crisp leaves on the ground danced in the breeze as late fall turned to an early winter. this was her favorite time of year. while many saw this season as a death, maeve found it to be her rebirth. though the trees and grass were dying only to be born again in six months, maeve could start now. this was a chance to walk away from the ashes and ruins behind her. the fire crackled merrily, the old radio in the living room filled the small house with a crackling rendition of an old james taylor song. the deep oranges and browns of the foliage created a warm world outside the burgundy-curtained window. drawn from her thoughts by a pulsation in her hand, maeve looked down at her index finger. she’d wrapped the thread too tightly around it and it had gradually transitioned to a ruddy purple shade.

“shit,” she murmured as she unwrapped the thread from her finger and shook her hand to try and return the circulation. flexing and contracting her fingers, she watched as it moved from a dusky pink shade then to its normal tone. meeting a boyfriend’s family was not something maeve had ever formally done. her first boyfriend had been a neighbor and friend before they were anything else. their parents had known each other before the children had even been born and there was little interaction between the adults as they matured. turning at the sound of footsteps, she watched james languidly stride in to the kitchen. “what if they hate me?” her stomach flipped as he approached her, taking both of her hands in his own. she laced her fingers with his in an automatic response. though they’d been dating for only three weeks, they’d quickly found a routine when together— it was as though their souls had known each other for an eternity beforehand.

“they won’t— there’s nothing about you that would ever make them hate you, kid.” the taller man wrapped his arms around her tightly. she did the same, firmly pressing her face against his chest. the familiar woody and peppery cologne invaded her senses, she’d come to associate this with a sense of calm that only he could bring to her. she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing they were already through with the day. resting his chin on the top of her head, a smile crossed his face as she exhaled deeply, her shoulders deflating like a balloon. the two fit together like puzzle pieces. he rubbed a hand between her shoulder blades reassuringly, the bumps of vertebrae sliding beneath his palm, covered in the thick cotton of her sweater.

this was the first year james had his own home for the holidays and, much to his chagrin, his parents had insisted on holding thanksgiving festivities there. it had primarily been his mother who had insisted and called daily in the months preceding. his father couldn’t care less as long as he had several plates of food and a television to watch the football game on. she had told him that it would bring good luck to his future in the home— and in hawkins, that seemed like a necessity.

“what if the turkey is dry or the pies aren’t done? i had two jobs and i probably messed them both up.” her voice was muffled by his vest that laid over the flannel shirt in which her face was pressed. “or what if they don’t like my clothes? i don’t know how people do these things.”

maeve wasn’t necessarily a professional when it came to cooking. she wasn’t a bad chef— she rarely burned or undercooked anything but thanksgiving was a daunting task. maeve had been tasked with making the turkey and baking the pumpkin pies while james’ mother and sister-in-law made and brought the side dishes. she’d seen many films where a farcical turkey was removed from the oven and was cut to only reveal the arid flesh. she’d read countless cookbooks and made a practice one with mary a week prior in preparation for the day.

in regards to fashion, earlier in the week, maeve had drug andie to the stores on main street and to thrift stores in indianapolis. after trying on nearly hundreds of outfits, the two teens finally settled on an olive green plaid dress atop of a ribbed black turtleneck for maeve’s first impressions on james’ whole family. she’d paired it with a pair of black, leather mary janes. she wanted to look mature but also appropriate. maeve was unsure if andie had encouraged the final purchase because she liked the outfit or because she was desperate to stop going shopping with maeve and return to the sanctuary of her own home after multiple excursions, purchases, and returns. andie had seldom seen maeve as high-strung as she herself normally was.  

“you didn’t. even if you did, we’ll order pizza and it will be okay.” he brushed some stray, bronze hairs from her forehead before kissing it softly, he pulled away to grab the plates that he needed to finish setting the table. “you’re gonna win them over, i promise.” watching him return back to the dining room, maeve exhaled as she tightened the apron strings around her waist as if she were going to war.

she knew thanksgiving was a day that was meant to be filled with familial bonding and football. for maeve, it had always been anything but. before she was taken to hawkin’s laboratory, she’d spent several thanksgiving holidays with her late-grandparents in the city or with her aunt and uncle in hawkins. the remaining thanksgivings in her life had been spent in the small, rent-controlled manhattan apartment with her parents who had acted like it was any other day of the year. in the recent series of ‘firsts’ in her life, this was another. james had told her that the houseman clan always had a family thanksgiving and played games after dinner and before dishes were finished. to maeve, this family functionality was foreign. she spent so long waiting for the penny to fall, for the other shoe to drop, for the third act twist. it had become ingrained in to who she was as a person to be constantly vigilant of situations that could turn out of her favor.

though james had spoken very little about his family, she knew his mother was a preschool teacher and his father was a mechanic, that his brother was an accountant and his wife worked as a nurse in the emergency room at the hospital in hawkins. she knew that he loved them and that his mother coddled him as her youngest son. she knew that his relationship with his father was slightly strained since he’d decided to become a police officer instead of following in his steps and running his shop. though there was a minimal amount of contention, the members of the houseman family deeply loved one another and only wanted the best. before beginning her real life in hawkins, outside of the lab, maeve would have never understood. but living with the standish family, maeve knew she would do anything in order to protect them— even leaving them or returning to the laboratory.

the couple had an early lunch with maeve’s parents and younger brother. james arrived as the macy’s thanksgiving day parade had begun. they sat in front of the living room television with samuel as the floats and balloons travelled past macy’s in manhattan. maeve felt a pang in her chest— when she was only seven, her grandparents had taken her to see the parade in person. she’d heard her parents arguing behind a closed door throughout the night and was awoken by her grandmother telling her to get ready for a day of fun. she recalled holding her grandma beth’s hand as they navigated the crowd and later sitting on her grandfather’s shoulders, clinging tightly to him as the air whipped her hair into a frenzy and turned her small nose red. she’d squealed excitedly as the massive mickey mouse float passed in front of them and as santa clause concluded the festivities. it was one of her most fond memories; she missed her grandparents but had not asked what had become of them in fear of mary or robert finding out that maeve had essentially been imprisoned for her formative teenage years.

samuel pulled her sleeve and from her memories as he asked which care bear were her and james’ favorites and why. looking up, they saw the giant, happy bear floating down the new york street as they both scrambled to answer, wanting samuel to feel that he had asked a good question while having no idea about care bears. the three talked until mary poked her head from the kitchen and announced that lunch was ready. robert finished setting the table and passed the plates around. having met james before, it was like any other family dinner that he’d come around for: mary doted over him as robert stared him down from across the table. samuel, however, had immediately taken a liking to james and spent the entire lunch talking his ear off.

just two weeks prior, samuel had torn through the front door and across the porch as james parallel parked on the street in front of the standish home. he’d arrived to pick maeve up for a movie night. the young boy bounced on the balls of his feet near the railing excitedly as james approached the house.

maeve had seldom spoken about her family. james knew she loved her parents and little brother and all things pointed to this being him.

“you must be samuel.” james climbed the stairs before crouching down to his height.

“you’re the policeman!” samuel nodded, grinning. “are you here to see magpie again? i’ve seen your car before. and you dropping her off and and she told me not to come out and talk to you but she’s still getting ready and i wanted to say hi.” he had some of the same characteristics as maeve. he spoke quickly and directly, the colors in his tousled hair were nearly identical to her’s. he finished his sentence much quieter than he’d started, almost as if he were afraid james would tell maeve and he’d be in trouble.  

“yeah, bud.” he held out a hand to shake the younger boy’s. “i’m james, it’s nice to finally meet you. mae’s told me a lot about you.” he paused, smiling conspiratorially,  “and don’t worry, i won’t tell maeve about this.” he loved spending time with kids— he admired their energy and wonder. as they grew in to teenagers and transitioned to adulthood, it’s as though they melted away through the years.  

“do you stop bad guys?” samuel smiled and sat down, crossing his legs. knowing he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, james did the same, sitting across from him on the wooden porch.

“yeah, i do my best to keep everyone safe.” james pulled his badge from his pocket and offered it to samuel who gasped and took it in both hands to look at it closer.  

“that’s so cool! can i be a policeman too? i can go on rides with you and we can stop the bank robbers together and stake out for the bad guys at night!”

“maybe in a few years. you have to be just a little bit older.” james chuckled as samuel reluctantly handed his badge back. the pout on his face was nearly identical to that of his adopted-sister’s when she didn’t get her way. james tucked it safely in his pocket, making a note to get him a pretend one with his name on it for christmas.

“have you ever read the amazing spiderman comics? he fights bad guys too!” samuel asked, drumming on the porch. james smiled, he knew that kids’ minds bounced from one topic to another without a segue or moment’s notice.

“yeah, did you get the new issue? 246?” james grinned. reading comics was a guilty pleasure that he’d never outgrown.

“not yet! mom hasn’t taken me to the comic book store yet.” samuel sighed, rolling his eyes. james stopped himself from laughing. he could hardly remember the days when his biggest problem was not getting a new comic soon after its release. samuel continued to talk about the last issue he had read. like maeve, his mind traveled at the speed of light and the words fell from his mouth in the same way.

“wait here, bud.” james stood before jogging over to his car. he grabbed the newest issue from his back seat. bringing it back up to the porch, he handed it to the younger boy with a smile. samuel’s entire face lit up— he grinned before throwing his arms around the taller’s man’s legs. james chuckled, patting him on the back before ruffling his already messy hair.

“thank you!”

suddenly, maeve opened the screen door. her hands on her denim-clad hips, she chastised, “samuel!” she’d noticed the house was entirely too quiet when she spotted james through the window and coming to the porch with a copy of a comic book.

“busted?” james chuckled as samuel let go and rushed back through the door. the young boy doubled back, pulling maeve down to his height to whisper in her ear before shouting a quick goodbye to james as he ran to flop down on the couch and dive into the new comic.

when samuel was out of sight, maeve rolled her eyes. she exhaled and let out a soft laugh. “you’re never getting that comic back.” james embraced her before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

he shrugged, “i’ll get another.” pulling back for a moment, he smiled down at her, an eyebrow cocked, “what was the whispering about?”

“he said he hopes that i like you and that you can come over more often.” laughing quietly, she rested her head against his chest once more. “well, i do. and you can.”

the shrill ringing of a timer brought her back to the present. maeve donned a pair of navy blue oven mitts before opening its door. she stood back as a wave of herbaceous scented steam escaped the hot chamber. she watched it twist and dissipate in to the dry, warm air of the house.

lifting the foil-tented turkey from the oven, maeve braced herself for it to be a disaster. setting it on top of the stove, maeve gingerly lifted the foil. her brows furrowed. a sigh of relief escaped her when she saw the crisped, deep brown skin and the popped red button on the temperature indicator. pulling off one of the oven-mitts, she ran the hand through her hair, resting it on her forehead. “i think i actually did it! holy shit…” she whispered to herself, before pausing and shouting excitedly, “james!”

rushing in with a dish towel over his shoulder and a serving platter in hand, james looked momentarily panicked but stopped short when he realized that nothing had broken or fallen, he paused. “is everything okay?”

“i did it!” holding her oven mitt-clad hand up triumphantly for a high five, james met it in the air before tossing it onto the counter and pulling her in tightly to press kisses all over her face. on her forehead, her rosy cheeks, her button nose, her full lips. the scruff that had been growing for the past week scraped against her face pleasantly.

“james, stop it—“ as maeve laughed while trying to pull away, james only held her tighter.

“i can’t stop it. my girlfriend is the greatest chef of all time. julia child knows nothing compared to her!” he shouted triumphantly. he lifted her from the ground and spun her once, before returning her to the ground and continuing his lip’s assault upon her.

their blissful bubble popped at once when his doorbell rang throughout the house. butkus howled loudly from his bed but didn’t feel the need to get up from the sanctuary near the crackling fireplace. james felt her entire body tense up at once, her breath catching. this was a stark contrast to only ten seconds prior when she felt as though the rest of the world had fallen away from them, as though time stood still in their presence. he pressed one last kiss to her forehead before pulling away and taking her by the hand.

“it will all be okay, i promise.” walking towards the door, maeve could feel her pulse beating against the side of her neck. she stayed slightly behind james as he pulled the door open and revealed four bundled up houseman family members seeking respite from the frigid air.

the tall, dark-haired woman bypassed james without a second thought, “maeve!” escaping from her lips as she approached the girl with arms open wide. she embraced her tightly.

maeve, still tense, reciprocated the hug while wondering if james’ mother could feel her heartbeat pounding rhythmically against her sternum. she felt the older woman give her a light squeeze before holding her at arm’s length, a warm smile on her face. maeve finally smiled in return, her apprehension beginning to fade. maeve took in her face. her beauty was striking; maeve knew she’d had to have been ethereal when she were younger. “it’s so nice to finally meet you. james has told us so much about you!” her green-brown eyes were framed with thick dark lashes. her chestnut hair fell in a permed wave down her shoulders. she could see that james took after her. while she was beginning to show signs of her age, the angled contours of her cheeks and jaw prevented it.  “you’re just as lovely as he’d said.” her kindness radiated, her wide smile causing the crow’s feet surrounding her eyes to deepen.

“thank you so much, mrs. houseman.” maeve could feel some of her anxiety melt away.

“honey, you can call me—“ she was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

“marsha, let her breathe.” she heard the deep voice of michael houseman. looking to her left, she saw him giving james a singular, solid pat on the back, his mouth pressed into a straight line in some form of a tight smile. james had expressed that his dad showed little to no emotion, that he was hard to read. marsha let her go with one last smile before turning her attention to james.

“sweetheart, you look thin. are you okay?” marsha houseman was the epitome of a fawning mother— she could rival mary in her behavior. she took his face in her hand, squeezing his scruffy cheeks and inspecting him thoroughly.

“yes, mom. i’m more than okay.” he hugged her tightly, pressing a short kiss to her cheek as he strained not to roll his eyes. he was nearly seven years younger than his brother but his mother still treated him as she had when he was a little boy. moving out had been a fiasco in itself, she’d come over to help decorate his home and hadn’t left until the sun had set far beyond the horizon. it was as though she were afraid he’d disappear forever if she returned to her home that was less than fifteen minutes away. james turned his attention towards his brother and sister-in-law and led them in to the kitchen while maeve took it upon herself to confidently address the patriarch of the houseman family.

maeve extended a hand toward’s michael houseman and gripped his assertively; she smiled kindly, maintaining eye contact. maeve felt the need to prove herself to the gruff man; she felt as though she needed to show him that james was doing fine and his girlfriend wasn’t just some mannequin for show. though his face was weathered, he was handsome like his son. looking at the three men, maeve noted that his strong, squared jaw had obviously been hereditarily strong. his shoulders were broad beneath the heavy, woolen winter coat that he had donned as armor from the sleet and snow. his hair had likely started to gray long ago, his beard following in the same fashion. “it’s nice to meet you, mr. houseman.” she had never been so conscientious of her abilities; the last thing she wanted to do was compel the family in to liking her. to say she was terrified would have been an understatement. beneath her cool and confident exterior, she could feel the anxiety swirling and billowing up  to the surface like smoke from an extinguished candle.

“michael, and you too. i can’t believe jimmy was actually telling the truth about you.” he nodded, the same tight smile gracing his face once more. dropping her hand as he moved towards the closet, michael removed his coat to hang it up. she noted the slight-patronization that tinged his tone as he moved towards the living room to take a seat on the couch. the television was showing the pregame show for the detroit lions and pittsburgh steelers on espn, the announcers speaking in low voices as they predicted the outcome of the game. maeve watched him, knowing he’d be a tougher egg to crack but she had never been afraid of a challenge and she wouldn’t back down now. by the end of the evening, she’d have him on her side or she’d die trying.

to anyone else, it looked as though maeve was lost in her thoughts— james knew better. over the past few weeks, he’d become almost as in-tune with her emotions as she was with her own. he had come back to retrieve her so she wasn’t on her own. he knew she could handle anything but he wanted to help her as much as possible, he knew how nervous she’d been throughout the day until now. he spoke in a low tone as he led her towards the kitchen, his hand on the small of her back. “you okay?” he stopped in the short hallway between the two rooms, a moment of privacy in the suddenly full house.

“i’m fine, i promise. i just,” maeve paused, swallowing a lump in her throat before continuing in a whisper, “i just really want them all to like me.” he hugged her tightly, pressing his lips to the top of her head for a moment that maeve wished she could linger in for just a while longer.

“they do. and i think mom likes you more than me— so this may not work.” he chuckled, before letting her go. lacing their fingers together, they entered the kitchen where christopher was raiding the fridge for snacks and lydia and marsha were flitting throughout the kitchen. they heated the potatoes and vegetables on the stove. the smell of warm dinner rolls baking alongside the sweet potato and green bean casseroles in the oven was intoxicating.

james cleared his throat, getting their attention, “lydia, chris, this is maeve. mae, this is my brother chris and my sister-in-law, lydia.” lydia looked up from the stove, smiling kindly. her voluminous, strawberry blonde hair curls and framed her face; the light blue eyes that should have pierced her soul were compassionate. lydia had known the intimidation of meeting the houseman family as an outsider. “lydia is a nurse in the emergency room at the hospital and chris is an accountant. mom teaches preschool and dad owns the garage.” houseman mechanics was one of the busiest garages in hawkins; it had been the local garage for the past thirty years and most everyone in hawkins had previously had their car serviced or repaired there. she knew the garage was a subject of controversy amongst the family.

“so, how did you two meet?” christopher bit off the end of a carrot, leaning against the edge of the counter.

‘well, this is certainly a good way to start.’ maeve thought to herself as she felt her stomach sink. benny’s death still rattled her whenever she thought of it. the terror she felt as she entered the diner on that early morning was not a feeling she’d soon forget. she felt herself falter as james squeezed her hand, taking over. “maeve put in a call one morning and i was one of the first on scene so i took her statement.”

“and we kind of got off on the wrong foot.” maeve half-smiled, remembering how heated she’d gotten and his extremely apologetic eyes, “but later that night, there was a vigil on the high school football field for will byers and we were both there. he brought me a hot chocolate and… i think, we just kind of knew.” she felt james’ eyes on her, she half-smiled and met them. if someone was speaking, their words fell on deaf ears. she’d never seen his eyes so earnest, maeve knew the look of adoration he was giving her would be something she’d think of even when the world seemed dark around her. james pressed a short kiss to her lips, her face burned red at the display of affection in front of his family members.

“and we’ve been together since.” he finished, smiling. maeve stopped herself from chuckling as she took note that he left out her running from the police station and their meeting at the theater.

“that’s so sweet.” lydia cooed from her station beside the stove. “chris just stalked me around school until he finally got the courage to ask me out and all he said was, ‘bowling?’” she deepened her voice, mocking her handsome husband who wrapped his arms around her from behind. “and i’m honestly not sure why i agreed because that’s just a horrible pickup line, don’t you think? i guess it’s because he’s at least semi-attractive.” she teased, rolling her eyes.

“i was nervous!” christopher defended with a mouthful of food, shrugging before his mother took his temporary snack and smacked his hand.

“dinner will be ready in less than five minutes? can’t you wait?” marsha chastised, moving throughout the kitchen as if it were second nature to her. “you had lunch with lydia’s parents less than two hours ago.” she continued, maeve looked to the siblings and saw the bemused expression that they both wore from which she deduced this was a normal occurrence. “honestly, it’s as if i taught you boys no manners growing up. the babies have better manners than you two.” she referenced her young charges that, maeve had a feeling, she was sorely missing.

“when did i get dragged in to this?” james looked bewildered, trying not to laugh.

“it’s like the titanic, if i go down— you’re going with me!” ignoring his mother’s cry in response to the humorous, yet distasteful, comment, the elder brother lightly punched james’ arm before the two took off towards the living room in a fake boxing match. maeve heard the volume of the television increase as michael unsuccessfully endeavored to tune out the rowdy teenagers that were merely trapped in adult bodies.

left alone with the only houseman women, maeve forced herself to breathe steadily in an effort to assuage her anxiety. they’d been nothing except loving to her since their arrival.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen james so happy.” lydia hid her smile as she took the food from the flame and placed it on a potholder beside the stove. “he was never sad or down or anything like that, before! i just mean, with you he seems...more free.”

“you’re really good for him, maeve.” before she turned away, maeve could have sworn she saw tears forming in marsha’s eyes.

“i don’t think anyone has ever made me as happy as he has.” maeve paused, not wanting to risk sounding insincere before continuing, “he’s the best man i know.”

marsha’s voice cracked marginally when she called from the dining room, “boys, dinner!”

the men came in from the living room, complaining about the moronic referees that were making calls during the football game. as maeve carefully set the heavy bird on the table, james wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed a kiss to her temple. she closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of calm before the dinner. james pulled out a chair for her and slid it easily back towards the table. taking his seat beside her, each other member of his family chose their seats. marsha sat on her other side and gave her a kind smile, a twinkle in her eyes.

“okay, before we start eating, i think we should go around and say what we’re grateful for this year.” marsha poured the water from a pitcher in to the glasses of her family and maeve. “i’ll start! i’m thankful that we’re all together this year.” she spoke simply before turning to her eldest son, prompting him to put down his fork and smile sheepishly at his mother before taking his turn speaking. while marsha had a golden heart, her tone and expression was that of a soft-spoken woman who was used to having to rule with an iron fist when surrounded by strong personalities.

each person took a second to speak until it got to james, who took a moment to look around at each person at the seats of the table. the houseman family had done this every year since james could remember. each year, his parents statements had remained close to the same while chris and james’ had become a testament to their growth. no longer were they thankful to not be in school for the week or that the tooth fairy had come the night before or that their mom hadn’t forced them to wear ties. they understood that there were bigger, less tangible things that were worth their gratitude. a half smile graced his scruffy face and for just a moment, he looked at peace while lost in his memories.

maeve had seldom seen this expression while he wasn’t asleep— he spent so much of his time worried about hawkins and its citizens or his loved ones that he often forgot to take time for himself. maeve could feel her heart surge as he laced his fingers with her own on the table. “i’m grateful that i have the all of the people who mean the most to me, here.” squeezing his hand gently, maeve gave a small, coy smile towards him. “mom, dad, thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me and chris. i love you both.” michael squeezed james’ shoulder, the first true sign of affection from the stoic man. through her intuition and abilities, together, maeve could feel the emotions radiating from james. she knew their relationship had not been easy the past few years as james’ path had swiftly departed from that which his father had planned for his youngest son.

even as a child, james had always known he’d wanted to help others. he could distinctly recall seeing firefighters, policemen, doctors, and nurses as people to aspire to— their selflessness inspired him to act in similar ways. as a child, he got in more than one fight when standing up for another student on the playground. his mother and father had been called to the school on multiple occasions only to find james sitting in the nurse’s office with a bloody nose or black eye. they knew he had never been one to pick fights, only to help those who were unable to help themselves. without fail, every time james had been knocked down, he’d brush himself off and get back up, prepared to continue to fight for his cause. he’d never been one to back away when his convictions were so strong, a characteristic that had not changed throughout the course of his life.

maeve couldn’t take her eyes from him while he spoke. her thumb gently rubbed the back of his hand. the ridges there were familiar. when they were together in the car, or going for a walk, or sitting together watching films, their hands always found one another’s. although their friends had found it to be cloyingly sweet, and almost annoying, it’s as if they were afraid the other would disappear. there was so much she was grateful for, so much she wanted to say but still so much that she had to keep hidden. when it was finally her turn to speak, she felt her throat tighten.

“i’m so grateful to be here with you guys.” she knew it sounded like she was only saying what almost everyone else had said, “when i came to hawkins, i was terrified. but i feel like i’m finally where i’m supposed to be.” james squeezed her hand tightly and maeve turned towards him. she paused, smiling at his face. she knew that her being here was important to james.  “i adore you.” she wasn’t ready to say what she so badly wanted to, but maeve knew that james understood.

“i know.” james mouthed in response before giving her his signature sideways smile that she loved so much. “so, everyone,” he looked around the table, “let’s eat.”

marsha handed a long, carving knife to michael, as she’d done for every thanksgiving that the housemans had spent together as a family. he accepted it and paused, looking at it momentarily, before handing it to james. michael squeezed his shoulder gently once more, a smile crossing his face. “this is james’ new place. it’s his turn.”

james accepted the cutlery without a word, keeping his head down as he cut the large turkey and placed slices on everyone’s plates. maeve knew if he’d tried to speak, he would have gotten emotional and he never would have heard the end of it from his brother or father. watching as he doled out the main dish, maeve hid her sigh of relief when the turkey didn’t seem to be exceedingly dry. everyone passed their plates around, trying some amount of everything.

forty five minutes, several discussions about nfl football, and multiple servings of decadent food later, the inhabitants of the dinner table had finally finished their holiday meal. maeve hadn’t said much, she’d been more than happy to quietly observe the family’s dynamic and chime in when she felt it was necessary or when something was directed towards her. chris groaned quietly as he stretched his arms high over his head, dropping his napkin on to his plate and feeling renewed after finally eating dinner. “so, is it time?” his smile was beyond mischievous.

“how can you possibly be ready after all of this food.” lydia groaned, resting her head against his shoulder, eyes closed. she suppressed a yawn, “what are the teams?” maeve knew her confusion was written on her face when lydia sat up, looking at james, her brows furrowed. “you didn’t ask her? really?”

“with everything else and having thanksgiving here, i forgot!” james shrugged in defense, chuckling before turning to maeve, “every year, we play a game of family football. each touchdown is two points and first team to six points wins. losers do the dishes.” he looked at maeve, his brows drawn together in worry before smiling boyishly as though asking for redemption. “what do you think?”

the same mischievous smile that chris wore spread to maeve, “i think you’re going down, houseman.” she laughed as he threw his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, maeve leaned away, “hey, no fraternizing with— well, are you my teammate or opponent?“

“opponent! boys versus girls!” lydia called out, standing up, grinning. though tired only moments before, she was excited for a new member to be drafted to the houseman team. they’d been playing with only five players since she married chris three years earlier and it was exciting to have an even number of players on each team.

“well, fine. i didn’t want you on my team anyway.” chris stood, feigning offense at his wife’s betrayal. he grabbed his coat and gloves from the den, “let’s go, men.” he called to his father and brother, already halfway out to the backyard, butkus hot on his heels. the family members each grabbed their outerwear and followed in suit.

maeve stayed behind as james handed the football to her and grabbed a dusty boombox from a closet in the den. “you sure that you want to play?” he laughed softly, lacing their gloved fingers as they walked outside.

“of course, it’s going to be fun!” maeve knew very little about football but she’d found that she was very competitive when it came to games— even those as low-stakes as scrabble. “have fun getting your ass kicked by three women.” she grinned, punching his arm gently as she backed away towards her two teammates, the ball tucked safely under her arm. he sat the boombox on the cement patio, plugging it into a wall and turning it on. the yard was filled with some guitar-heavy rock music as each team huddled together.  

“in your dreams, standish.” james called from across the yard as he jogged to his father and brother. “and no cheating!” he raised both of his eyebrows pointedly, causing maeve to laugh in response. this was one circumstance where she was certain that her abilities were unlikely to help.

“i’d never!” turning to face the two older women, maeve laughed nervously, “so, i’ve never played football at all and i understand very little of it when james makes me watch it. what are the rules?” she used a scrunchie that donned her wrist to tie back her chestnut curls, adjusting the beanie on her head to cover her slowly-reddening ears.

“we just need to run the ball to their end-zone and stop the others from interfering. no cheap-shot tackles. if a team scores, they can kick a field-goal for one more point.” lydia explained, smiling. maeve was grateful she wore thick tights and flat shoes. “marsha and michael are always the quarterbacks.”

“and you’re going to be our secret weapon. how quick are you maeve?” marsha crossed her arms in an effort to maintain warmth, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“pretty fast, i suppose, why?” she spoke, momentarily stopping her teeth from chattering. she visualized the canister of cocoa that was tucked away in one of james’ cabinet that she’d make in to hot cocoa as soon as they finished the game.

“we call offense first!” marsha shouted to the men before lowering her voice, “as soon as i yell hut, take off running to the other side. lydia is gonna throw the ball to me and i’ll throw it to you and you have to run it to their end-zone! if you can’t, throw it to one of us that’s open.” marsha planned in hushed tones. “and since it’s just us, you’ll need to run in different ways every time so that they don’t know where you’ll be going and tackle you. lydia and i will try to make sure no one gets you and when we switch to offense, you’re going to go after james because he’s usually the one who scores for them.”

“got it.” maeve was a quick learner, especially when eager to make a good impression.

“let’s do this!” lydia put her hand out in front of her as the boys finished their planning as well. maeve placed her hand on lydia’s before marsha covered it with her own. maeve smiled softly, she truly felt like part of their family. “girls on three?”

marsha counted down, the three women shouted before spreading out across the lawn. the men did the same. lydia took the ball and crouched in the center of the field, chris stood only feet away and attempted to heckle her. maeve stood opposite james and shook her head, grinning. “hut!” marsha shouted. maeve took off like a shot, weaving throughout the men. she turned around to see the ball hurling towards her, she’d lost sight of james and knew she was in the clear. as though the world was moving in slow motion, her arms opened wide to receive the ball when she was lifted off the ground and tossed over someone’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. she let out a yelp, grabbing on to whomever had picked her up before she was sat on the ground.

chris let out a whoop of joy, laughing as he clapped maeve on the back. “never saw me coming, did you?”

“okay, okay. good play.” she laughed, nodding and holding her hands up in defeat. “your luck is about to run out!” she saw the brothers chest-bump and rolled her eyes, still smiling as the teams returned to their starting positions closer to the end zone. as marsha called hut again, maeve took off once more— this time she was more aware of her surroundings. seeing james beelining towards her, maeve ducked under his arm with the skill of a dancer before he hit the ground with a firm thud.

“ha!” maeve let out a triumphant laugh. she saw the ball coming towards her once more; tucking her face and closing her eyes with a prayer she felt the ball fall in to her arms. she opened her eyes, shocked. there was a moment before all three men started towards her. marsha caught michael by wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his face, lydia jumped on to chris’ back in a futile attempt to take him to the ground. outrunning james by only a moment, maeve threw the ball to the ground. jumping up, she threw her arms around james, laughing loudly.

“okay, lovebirds! you’re on different teams.” christopher shouted from the ground. not only had lydia taken him to the ground, she sat on his back, howling with laughter. “that’s beginner’s luck!” he got up, kissing his wife quickly in forgiveness as he crossed the field. “who’s kicking?” he brushed his hands together, trying to dust off some of the dead grass. “maeve?”

maeve looked at marsha who shrugged in deference to lydia, who then gave her a thumbs up, smiling. “apparently yes.” maeve nodded, exhaling. though she’d played kickball when she was younger, she had no clue what she was doing now.

“james, give me the ball because i don’t trust that you won’t help her out.” michael held his hands out. james passed him the ball as michael kneeled down, placing the ball down on one of its points. “okay, maeve. so, you just need to make it between those two trees,” he pointed across the yard. “you get one shot. on the count of three, ready?” he looked up to her for confirmation. he was soft-spoken and authoritative and as much as they were different, she saw a lot of him in james. he lowered his voice, an actual smile crossing his face, “for what it’s worth, i’m rooting for you.”

“thank you,” she responded in the same low whisper. “on your count.” maeve nodded, taking a deep breath and kicking her leg out in practice a few times. lydia and marsha wooted for her as michael counted down. with a swift kick while forcing herself to keep the angle of her kick straight, maeve watched as the brown ball sailed across the yard and hit the fence squarely between the two trees. “oh my god! i totally just did that!” maeve squealed. michael stood and held his hand up which maeve met in a high-five.

“good job.” he chuckled, walking back to his side of the field. the game continued on for nearly an hour until the sun was set. the teams were finally tied at five to five and the girls had the chance to score a touchdown since they were playing offense once more. as marsha shouted hut, maeve took off in the opposite direction across the field from james towards the end zone. her heart was pounding, a smile etched permanently across her face from the fun she’d been having. she saw lydia latch on to chris’ leg as his knee buckled and he fell to the ground. michael was once more stopped by marsha but maeve had a sneaking suspicion that he allowed himself to be blocked. trying to keep the ball from michael, marsha tossed it to lydia who threw it to maeve from her spot on the ground. maeve ducked down to catch it, the ball nearly hitting the ground beside her. 

she turned to run to the end zone where she saw james based out in front of it, a wide grin on his face— he was certain that the girls weren’t about to make this final touchdown. taking off in one direction, she could feel james gaining on her. in her peripheral vision, she saw a streak of blonde followed by another take off towards the end zone. turning, she threw the ball as james scooped her up. she wrapped her arms around him as she strained her neck to see what had happened to the ball. a shrill scream broke the air as lydia triumphantly jumped up and down, chris having tripped as he chased his wife across the yard.

“we won!” maeve shouted, thrusting one of her fists in the air. she let out a yelp as james spun her around a few times before setting her down, she gripped on to his arm in an effort to keep her balance. “don’t be a sore loser!” she laughed to him, regaining her footing.

lydia ran over and embraced her tightly, marsha wrapped an arm around each of the younger girls. “now that is what i call teamwork! let’s go inside because i think we’re all apt to catch frostbite if we stay out here any longer.”

“forget dad and james, i’m on maeve’s team next year!” chris chuckled, offering his fist out to bump her’s, which she did laughingly.

“i’ll make some cocoa!” maeve could feel herself shaking in the cold, the adrenaline finally fading as her teeth chattered while her body struggled to maintain any heat at all.

the houseman clan made their way inside as the cloudy sky began to turn dark in the finality of the day. the autumn moon rose over hawkins as they filed in to the cozy warmth of the house. michael gathered the dishes from the dining table as james and chris rolled up their sleeves. while they loaded what they could in to the dishwasher, james washed the other dishes while chris dried and put them away, all the while michael supervised the boys from his station at the dining table. while marsha and lydia sat together in the living room near the hearth, maeve found a clean sauce pan and mixed the milk, cocoa powder, and sugar together before setting it over a low flame on the stove. she watched as it came together, whisking it slowly. a quiet bliss had settled over the home; everyone was thoroughly exhausted from the food and the game and couldn’t wait to return to their homes to sleep through the night.

removing the pan from the heat, maeve divided the smooth, dark mixture in to six mugs. she carried two in to the women who sat on the couch, chatting about life and work. lydia accepted it eagerly, smiling at maeve as she continued speaking to marsha who gently squeezed maeve’s hand in gratitude. she returned to the kitchen where the men had finally finished cleaning the dishes and putting the food in to containers to either be taken home or placed in james’ fridge. maeve sat a mug in front of michael who was reading a copy of the newspaper; he looked up and smiled, “thanks.” as the day had worn on, he’d become less introverted and had willingly begun to speak to maeve more. as she’d made the cocoa, they discussed vintage cars. when she was a child, her grandfather had taken her to car shows and, though she recalled little since it had happened so many years before, it was enough to carry on an intelligent discussion.

james dried his hands as he sat at the table, chris taking the seat beside his father. giving them both warm mugs of the confection, chris thanked her as james pressed a short kiss to her palm. she returned to the cabinet, mixing a shake of cinnamon in to her mug before returning to the table. taking her by the hips, james pulled her back towards him. she sat on his lap, her legs draped across him. her head rested on his shoulder as she stifled a yawn. his arms wrapped around her tightly. though they’d been together all day, they’d not spent much time alone. around the table, they sat in silence for what could have been an hour as they sipped their cocoa and relished the silence after the busy day.

lydia came in to the kitchen and whispered in chris’ ear, her hand brushing over his shoulder. maeve saw her ring catch the light of the halogen bulb, she smiled softly. the two were a beautiful couple and were obviously happy together. he stood up as she went to find their coats, “we’re going to head home. lydia works first shift tomorrow and i’m just exhausted.” marsha came in to the kitchen as well and embraced her eldest son tightly as she pressed a kiss to his head before he gave his dad a one-armed hug.

“glad to see you, we should do this more.” james wrapped his arms around his older, albeit shorter, brother tightly. chris responded lowly to james before letting him go.

“it was nice to meet both of you.” maeve hugged each of them lightly, they returned the sentiment in response.

marsha entered the room, setting the empty mugs in to the dishwasher and giving both chris and lydia tight hugs before they left the house, braving the cold as snow started to fall over hawkins. “we’re going to head out too. your father gets cranky if he doesn’t get eight hours of sleep and he’s always awake by six!”

“marsha, you’re just as bad as me.” michael responded as marsha rolled her eyes, brushing some hair from her husband’s face. he took her hand as he stood before going to find their coats.

marsha hugged james tightly and pressed a kiss to his cheek before murmuring, “i love you and i am so proud of you.” maeve tried to busy herself, not wanting to impose on such a tender moment between family members.

“love you, ma.” james murmured back, his eyes closed, for a moment, it was as if he was a child once more.

letting go as michael came back in to the room, coats in hand, marsha crossed to maeve and took both of her hands in her own. “maeve, it was so lovely to meet you. i hope we see you again very soon.” marsha’s dark earnest eyes peered in to her own before she brought her in for a tight hug. unprepared, maeve wrapped her arms around the slender woman as james said goodbye to his father. “thank you for making my boy so happy.” she let maeve go, her eyes sparkling with tears once more. maeve’s eyes stung with tears as well, an enormous amount of relief washing over her as she realized that she’d done nothing to manipulate james’ family and that they had liked her all the same. for the weeks beforehand, maeve had worried that she’d do something unintentionally and influence the outcome of the evening.

“thank you for raising such a wonderful man.” maeve smiled, speaking softly before marsha smiled and stepped away to pull on her heavy, down-filled coat. as michael let go of james, after a hug and speaking in low tones, he approached maeve who held her hand out for a hand shake, unsure of how to approach the intimidating man. he chuckled, taking her hand and gently pulling her into a one-armed hug. “it was great to meet you, mr. houseman.”

“you too, maeve.” he paused, his hand on her back. “you’re really good for him. he’s grown with you.” he nodded, a familiar half-smile crossing his face.

“thank you.” maeve smiled, taking a step back. “you guys have a safe drive home.” james and maeve walked the older couple to the door, watching as they descended the stairs to their car parked beside the road. james closed the door behind them and exhaled deeply, letting his back collapse against the door. maeve walked over, sliding her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest. in the silent house, she could hear his heart beat softly.

“they loved you. all of them.” he murmured softly in to her hair. his eyes were closed and he stifled a yawn. “mom and dad both told me to never let you go.” he laughed sleepily.

“you really think so?” despite all of their reassurances, maeve’s insecurity continued to rear its ugly head. “they were all so kind. thank you for letting me be here.” his yawn was contagious as maeve covered her mouth.

“of course, mae.” taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her head up to face his own. pressing his lips softly to her’s, maeve deepened the kiss before pulling back. she allowed her eyes to stay closed for just a moment longer, wrapped in bliss, before opening them.

“i don’t want to go home.” she groaned, too exhausted to drive between the physical and emotional events of the day.

“you can stay, if you want.” his arms found their place around her once more.

“i’m gonna call my mom and let her know.” maeve pushed herself in to a standing position, having found herself leaning against him. as maeve made her way to the living room, james changed into pajamas, made sure butkus had food, and took him for a quick walk outside.

maeve dialed her home, playing lazily with the coiled cord as she listened to the phone ring. the shrill noise finally ended and mary picked up. “standish home, mary speaking.” her mother sounded chipper despite the sleep that tinged her voice.

“hi mom. it’s mae.” maeve rested her head against the wall, her eyes closed. “would you mind if i stayed here tonight? i’m just so sleepy.”

“of course, sweetie. we’ll see you in the morning.” mary paused, “be careful.” maeve knew what mary was acknowledging and her eyes opened wide, suddenly sleep seemed so far away.

“mom, no! that’s— no! nope. not what is going to happen.” maeve hissed, her voice low. she felt her cheeks burn as the redness spread across her neck and down her chest.

“well, just in case!” mary defended, it was as though maeve could see her shrugging to no one.

“okay, goodnight. i’ll see you tomorrow. love you.” maeve spoke quickly, rolling her eyes.

“love you!” she heard mary call out as the phone was already being returned to its home on the hook.

shaking her head, maeve laughed softly to herself. while the thought had crossed her mind, she knew that it just wasn’t something she was ready for at this point. having stayed the night with james several times previously, maeve made her way to his room and pulled a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from his drawers before taking them in to the bathroom, taking a short shower, and changing. crossing the hall, maeve made her way back in to james’ room. she crawled into his bed, the side nearest to the wall where she usually slept on the occasions that she stayed over.

minutes later, james opened the front door. he let butkus off his leash so he could run to his bed. finding the house extremely quiet, he looked around. “maeve?” he called, worried that she’d left or that something had happened. he checked the den before walking down the hall to his room. he saw maeve curled under the layers of blankets, asleep with the light still on. leaning against the door jam, a smile crossed his face as he watched her torso rise and fall with every even breath that she took. he flipped the switch to the light in the room quietly. crawling in to bed beside her, he wrapped his arms around her small frame before he pressed a kiss to her temple, “goodnight, kid.”

style inspiration: x

song inspiration: x

[mswyrr]

For someone of that heritage, Conway displays a strange lack of awareness that her own ancestors were once excluded from the nativist definition of who belongs in America — and who is entitled to citizenship as a right, not a privilege.

What’s more, anyone working for Trump has reason to be aware of just how recently American citizens from Irish and Italian families were viewed with hatred and suspicion by native-born, white Protestants.

That’s because the president’s father, Fred Trump, was one of seven men arrested in 1927 at a Memorial Day parade in Queens, where 1,000 robed members of the Ku Klux Klan rioted when the Irish-American-led police force tried to prevent them from marching. The arrest was documented in the New York Times two day later, in an account that gave Fred Trump’s name and home address, as the website Boing Boing discovered in 2015.

[...] The year after that riot, the Klan played a major role in opposing New York’s governor, Al Smith, a son of Irish and Italian immigrants, when he became the first Catholic to be nominated for the presidency by a major party, running as the Democratic candidate against Herbert Hoover.

As the historian Robert Slayton explained in a 2011 blog post for the New York Times, anti-Catholic bigotry, stirred up by the Klan, dominated the 1928 presidential election campaign, leading to Smith’s defeat in a landslide.

The school board of Daytona Beach, Fla., sent a note home with every student. It read simply: “We must prevent the election of Alfred E. Smith to the Presidency. If he is elected President, you will not be allowed to have or read a Bible.” Fliers informed voters that if Smith took the White House, all Protestant marriages would be annulled, their offspring rendered illegitimate on the spot.

Opponents blanketed the country with photos of the recently completed Holland Tunnel, the caption stating that this was the secret passage being built between Rome and Washington, to transport the pope to his new abode. Countless copies of a small cartoon appeared on lampposts and mailboxes everywhere. Titled “Cabinet Meeting — If Al Were President,” it showed the cabinet room, with the pope seated at the head of the table, surrounded by priests and bishops. Over in the corner was Al Smith, dressed in a bellboy’s uniform, carrying a serving platter, on top of which was a jug of whiskey. Summing up, the minister of the largest Baptist congregation in Oklahoma City announced, “If you vote for Al Smith you’re voting against Christ and you’ll all be damned.”

The Ku Klux Klan became actively involved in preventing a Catholic from ever getting near the White House, going all out to defeat Smith. One Klan leader mailed thousands of postcards after Democrats nominated the New Yorker, stating firmly, “We now face the darkest hour in American history. In a convention ruled by political Romanism, anti-Christ has won.” A Klan colleague in remote North Manchester, Ind., warned his audience, in booming tones, of the imminent arrival of the pope: “He may even be on the northbound train tomorrow! He may! He may! Be warned! America is for Americans! Watch the trains!” When I interviewed Hugh L. Carey, only the second Roman Catholic elected governor of New York, for my Smith biography, he remembered Klan parades in Hicksville when he was 9 years old and how frightened he was, because “there was a real anti-Catholic sentiment.”

Kellyanne Conway seems unable, or unwilling, to hear the echoes of this sort of rhetoric — used to vilify Irish and Italian Catholics during the lifetimes of her Irish and Italian grandparents — in the words Trump uses now to attack two Muslim congresswomen, from Somali and Palestinian immigrant families, as undeserving of American citizenship. But those echoes are there, and the rest of us can hear them.