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mythicalsecretsanta · 3 years

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A Very Special Trip (T)

This Gift is for: Cyrene (AKA @killthenaughtyboy) Summary: Rhett reflects on the past as he and Link travel and enjoy each other. Learning to be a couple is easy when you’re living the van life. Hi! I’m glad that I got to be your Secret Santa this year. I hope you enjoy this little gift fic that I wrote for you. I tried to incorporate several of the things on your Niceties list, including van life, fluff, a dash of angst, and a sprinkle of fancy panties. I tried really hard to write some smut for you because I know that that was at the top of your wishlist, but unfortunately, smut is not a strong spot for me, and it just didn’t work out in the end. Sorry for any tense errors. I usually write in past tense, but I decided to try something different for this fic. Wishing you a very happy holiday season and new year! From your Secret Santa, Kale (AKA @unsealingkale)

Link to AO3, or read below:

Link looks up into the early morning light, his chin tilted to the sky as he watches the fluffy white clouds drift by far overhead. Rhett has never seen anything quite so beautiful as the other man, and he makes a point to let himself focus on the thought and the feelings attached to it. There is no shame attached to those thoughts and feelings anymore. No guilt or fear. No need to immediately try to force the thought away. Instead, he lets the thought soak into his skin like the sun. Link is beautiful. He loves Link, and it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s good. It’s perfect. It’s right.

“Look, it’s a lemon,” Link says, pointing up. Rhett turns his gaze to the sky and quickly finds the cloud in question. It does indeed look like a lemon, round with slightly tapered sides.

“Pretty sure that’s a lime,” Rhett says, just to tease Link. He gets the expected displeased hum and frown in response. It makes him smile.

“It’s way too big to be a lime,” Link insists.

“When is the last time you saw a lemon as big as that cloud?” Rhett counters.

“Okay, fine. It could be either.” Link lies down on the picnic blanket and sighs dramatically, but Rhett knows that he’s not really mad. The shade tree nearby casts shadows on his face. He’s beautiful like that too.

“Nah, you’re right. It’s definitely a lemon,” Rhett agrees. He spreads himself out on the blanket beside Link, careful to avoid the sticky spot where Link had knocked over the bottle of maple syrup half an hour ago. Sharing a pancake breakfast under the dawn sky had been a new experience for both of them, but that was kind of the point. Living the van life has brought them a lot of new experiences. Good ones, mostly, as they learn how to be a couple instead of just best friends.

Rhett digs both of his heels into the grass, far too tall for the blanket. He takes Link’s hand in one of his own, entwining their fingers and settling their hands between their hips. Link turns his face to smile fondly at Rhett. “Love you,” he whispers, and squeezes Rhett’s hand.

“Love you too.” It still doesn’t feel weird to say it like that, without qualifiers. It didn’t even feel weird the first time. It just feels right. Like something they should have been saying all along. He leans over and kisses Link’s cheek, belly warmed by the happy sound he makes in response.

They watch the clouds for a while longer, until Barbara starts barking to let them know that she’s awake and ready for her own breakfast. They go feed her and Jade, and then take them for a walk beside the river. Link suggests that they go for a swim. He bends down to touch the water and shrieks at how cold it is. “Like liquid ice,” he swears, tucking his hand into his pocket. He shoos Rhett and the dogs away from the riverbank like a worried mother hen.

They spend the rest of the morning exploring the wooded park, playing tag and hide and seek along the jogging trail like they are children again. Rhett has never been happier. He’s thankful that Link talked him into going along on this trip. Sharing the tiny bed isn’t even so bad because now he can give into his desire to pull Link into his arms at night instead of trying to maintain some modicum of personal space. The first morning of their trip, he had woken to find Link stretched out halfway on top of him like some kind of living security blanket, still sound asleep. He had lied there in the semi-darkness and cried because he finally got to hold Link like he had always wanted to hold him. This trip was healing them both, replacing bad memories of trading heated kisses in their college dorm room and then pulling away, Link crying and begging while Rhett swore that it was all just a big mistake and he didn’t really mean it. It had never been a mistake. Now, at long last, he could erase those images of Link’s tear-stained face from his mind and replace them with ones of Link smiling with pink, kiss-swollen lips, his eyes soft with love and warmth.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Link asks, as they begin to walk back to the van around noon, both shivering as a gust of wind suddenly drops the air temperature. Rhett looks up at the sky. The clouds have grown dark and heavy. How hadn’t they noticed sooner? He shakes himself out of his thoughts as Link bends over and picks Jade up, tucking her securely under his arm. She nuzzles into his chest. He gestures for Rhett to do the same with Barbara. “It’s going to rain. We’d better hurry.” There’s a pause. “Rhett? You’re being awfully quiet.”

“I was just thinking,” Rhett finally answers, as he settles Barbara against his chest. He picks up his speed back down the trail. It’s not too far back to the van, but he wants to stay dry if at all possible. He stops in his tracks when he realizes that Link isn’t beside him. He looks over his shoulder and finds Link frozen a few feet back down the trail. “What’s wrong?” Rhett calls, jogging back to him.

“You’re not thinking that you regret this again, are you?” Link asks in a tiny voice. The look of betrayal in his eyes makes Rhett’s heart plummet down into his stomach. “I mean, us? What- what we are now?”

Rhett can’t bear to do anything other than engulf Link in a one-armed hug as soon as he reaches him, careful not to jostle the dogs too much. “No! I was just thinking about how much I love you, and how stupid I was not to be honest about it sooner. I will never, ever regret this, Link. I never did.” They’ve talked it out several times, but the doubt is still there. Rhett knows it will take time for it to fade completely, and he’s more than willing to give Link all of the time he needs. He pulls Link even closer and smooches his forehead loudly. He sighs when Link giggles, and then the clouds burst and they are standing in the pelting rain.

It’s freezing, but Rhett bends down and gives Link a kiss anyway, soft and gentle, full of promises that he will keep. Link leans up into it, tasting like pancake syrup and sunshine, and Rhett barely feels the rain. His heated lips melt against Link’s, and he wonders again why he let so many years pass between them when he could have been kissing these lips every day. Link’s shivers bring him back to reality. He breaks the kiss and grabs Link’s hand, tugging him along. And they’re off, jogging back to the van as the rain falls and the dark clouds swirl above them.

After they climb back inside the van and dry off a little, Jade runs to her bed and curls up for a warm nap, while Barbara snuffles around the mini-fridge and whines. Link snorts and pulls a dog treat out from the bag on top of the fridge, tossing it to Barbara. “Like daughter, like father. Bet you’re hungry too, huh?” He looks at Rhett, smirking. He’s still shivering a little, his thin t-shirt clinging to his chest, but his eyes are bright again.

Rhett pats his rumbling stomach. “I could eat,” he admits. What can he say? He’s a big man with a big appetite to match. It’s well after noon, anyway. Past time for lunch.

“Let’s get changed and then we’ll see what we can do about that,” Link says, with a soft smile. Getting dressed in the van isn’t always easy, but they manage to change into dry clothes without too much trouble. Link slips on one of Rhett’s oversized sweaters and turns on the heater so that they don’t catch a chill. They have a nice air conditioning system in the van that lets them stay warm or cool, and makes sure the dogs are safe and comfortable when they have to stay inside while Rhett and Link are out. It’s one of the best features of the van, along with the decent gas mileage.

They eventually settle on driving a little farther to reach the next town when the rain dies down, where there is a famous fried chicken restaurant that they have heard a lot about but never had the chance to try. There is no wait thanks to the fading storm. They slide into the booth side-by-side, like they always do, knees touching, and look over the small menu. Link rests his head on Rhett’s shoulder while they wait for their food, and Rhett lets more good feelings wash over him as he takes comfort in the touch. Link is his boyfriend now. His boyfriend is pressed up against his side, breathing softly. His boyfriend. That fact is still new, but the love he feels isn’t. He wraps his arm around Link’s shoulders and hopes that Link knows how proud he feels to be his boyfriend out in public.

Rhett eats his own meal, two pieces of fried chicken and a pile of mashed potatoes and biscuits, and then he starts working on what’s left of Link’s chicken sandwich and fries. Link shakes his head but pushes his plate closer to Rhett. “Go oo. I’m full,” he encourages. “You know, I’m going to have to buy a lot more groceries when you move in. You’ll eat me out of house and home if I’m not careful. It’ll be like our dorm all over again.”

Rhett knows that he’s teasing, but he blushes anyway. Then he realizes what Link said and looks up at him. Link’s own cheeks are pink, making his eyes seem even brighter than usual. “You want to live together?” Rhett asks. He had suggested sharing a home to save on bills when they had first moved out to California, but Link had quickly shut the idea down. Rhett had tried hard not to think about why, but his gut knew all along. Link didn’t want to go through the torture of living with Rhett and still being just friends, like they had done in college.

“Well, yeah. I mean, if you want to. I think it would be nice.” Link shrugs like it doesn’t really matter, but Rhett knows that the gesture is anything but casual. Link is nervous, asking something important and special.

He drops his voice low and leans to whisper in Link’s ear. “I want to. Want to be close to you all the time. Want to kiss you whenever I want.” He kisses the soft spot below Link’s ear. “We can figure it out as soon as our trip is over. I’ll break my lease for you.”

Link grins bright enough to light up the whole restaurant. “Good.”

“Good,” Rhett echoes, and tosses the last two greasy fries into his mouth.

The meal settles on his stomach like lead bricks, so he insists on stopping at the next rest area for a nap while Link takes the dogs out for another short walk. It feels good not to be bogged down with any obligations for the time being. To be able to lie down in the middle of the day and close his eyes while he digests if he wants to. He dozes off and then wakes, briefly, when the bed dips and Link joins him, curling up next to him on the tiny bed. Rhett wraps his arms around Link’s middle and spoons close. Touching Link casually like this still feels like a small miracle. It’s something that he had wanted for so long, but always denied himself. He slips one hand up inside Link’s shirt just enough to feel the soft, smooth skin of his stomach, and dozes back off to sleep, surrounded by comfort and warmth.

The rest of the day passes slowly, spent driving to the next big destination on their list. Link has always wanted to go to stay at this little campsite they had passed while traveling before, and now seems as good a time as ever. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s nice and well-kept, and is surrounded by thick woods.

They pay for a spot for two nights and settle in for the afternoon. They watch a silly movie on Rhett’s laptop and laugh at how it reminds them of some of their own childhood antics. Link insists on salad for dinner, tired of the day’s rich meals. They walk the dogs again, and then they each take a long, warm shower at the camp’s public bathroom. Link does a couple loads of laundry as well. They make it back to the van just as night finally settles over the campsite.

“Feels good to be clean and have clean sheets,” Link says, as he sits down on their bed and pulls his legs up, crossing them in front of himself. Rhett sits down beside him. “I was getting pretty tired of bath wipes.”

“Yeah, me too,” Rhett agrees. The wipes were better than nothing, but it had been three days since they had last had access to a real shower, and they had both been feeling less than fresh.

“Hey, thanks for coming on this trip with me.” Link looks down and plays with a loose thread on his sweatpants. “I know you didn’t really like the idea. Especially with Christmas being so close and all. Can’t believe it’s tomorrow already.”

“I’m glad I came. You were right. We needed this time away to ourselves.” Rhett reaches over and squeezes Link’s shoulder. It’s hard to believe that their trip will be over in just a few days, after the weekend. “I wouldn’t have traded this time with you for anything. It’s been so much fun.”

“Yeah?” Link looks up, cheeks pink and eyes soft. Once again, Rhett thinks that he has never been more beautiful.

“Yeah. I’m so in love with you, and I’m going to tell you that every single day from now on. No more keeping secrets.” Rhett leans over and kisses Link’s cheek, feeling the flush of his skin through his lips. He nuzzles against Link’s cheek. “You’re so cute when you blush like that.”

“Hush.” Link shifts closer, his knee brushing against Rhett’s side. He brings one hand up to cup Rhett’s cheek. “I love you too. Never want you to doubt it.”

“I never have.” Rhett turns his head to press a kiss to Link’s hand.

Link smiles, showing his pointy bottom teeth. His blush grows even deeper, and he takes a deep breath before he speaks. Rhett waits patiently while he searches for the right words. “Hey, since it’s Christmas Eve, I have an idea,” he says, softly. “If you want.”

“What’s that?” Rhett asks. He’s up for anything, but the deepening blush on Link’s face makes him suspicious. He touches Link’s knee in support.

“I was thinking, maybe, we could do something a little special tonight. Since I’m dressed for the occasion and all.” Link looks away, down, anywhere but at Rhett’s face. He plays with the loose thread some more, twirling it around his finger.

“What special occasion needs a t-shirt and sweats?” Rhett teases.

“I don’t mean the sweats.” Link slowly unfolds himself and stands up, moving to face Rhett. He slips into the space between Rhett’s legs and takes his hands, guiding them to his narrow hips. He makes fleeting eye contact, nervous. “I mean what’s underneath. Go on. Look.”

Rhett slowly pulls down Link’s sweatpants, revealing a pair of red and white lacy underwear. He looks up at Link and smiles. “I see. This is very special indeed.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice almost breaks. They haven’t done anything beyond kissing yet, but here Link is, presenting himself, ready and willing, and Rhett will never turn him down. Not for anything.

“It can be an early Christmas present, if you want.” Link swirls his hips in a small circle between Rhett’s legs, showing off his fancy panties, as the sweatpants slip even lower down his thighs. It’s dangerously sexy, and Rhett finds himself growing aroused at the mere sight.

Rhett puts his hands on Link’s hips again, stilling him. “I want,” he breathes. “I definitely want.” He pulls Link closer, down into his lap. This present is very special, and he wants to savor it. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can hardly believe this is real.”

“Me neither. Now go on. Aren’t you going to unwrap me?” Link giggles, and Rhett nods, and everything is perfect and as it should be.

They both enjoy the night, and the long life together that follows.

#mythical secret santa 2020 #rhink #rating: T #type: fic #submission

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

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Comfort & Joy

Summary: Arthur & Y/N celebrate their first Christmas together. Not everything goes as planned.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Words: 4,645

A/N: A request from the mind of dear, sweet @ithinkimawriter. Special thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for being the wonderful beta she is!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

If you’ve sent me a request and I haven’t responded, it’s because I am working on it and will once it’s posted!

Arthur was on his way to Y/N's apartment when the storefront's window captured his attention. Batting covered the floor, imitating fake snow. A plastic fireplace, painted yellow, orange, and red, was angled against the left wall. The artificial tree, bedecked with multi-color lights and a plethora of wrapped gifts underneath, shone prettily. To the right, a cardboard cutout of a couple wearing Santa hats and embracing stood in front of a brand new refrigerator. The large sign suspended from the ceiling, tied in a red bow, advertised low-interest store credit: "Make all your Christmas wishes reality!"

There was a sweetness to the display. A festive cheerfulness. And it induced in him an ache borne of dejection. With Penny in her parallel universe and their lack of resources, his life had never had a place for holidays. Seven or eight years ago, he'd made his last attempt at doing something special. They'd shared the turkey dinner he'd sprung for at a nearby greasy spoon. She'd been mildly cognizant of the make-up compact he'd given her, one he'd gotten off the clearance rack. Then she'd gone to bed, leaving him alone to watch the television special he'd picked out. It had been one of the rare nights he'd poured himself a drink in an attempt to sleep.

Smoke swirled in Gotham's cold, night air as he exhaled around his cigarette. The heaviness in his stomach, his hint of indignation perplexed him. Why on earth did he feel shitty when he had a chance to have the type of Christmas people wrote about? That Sinatra, Cole, and Martin sang about? The type he'd dreamed of, despite knowing he'd never have it? He frowned as he trudged down the street, hoping he wouldn't fuck it all up.

Y/N's greeting was warm as always; the refuge of her arms, the smile she reserved just for him dulled his sharpest edges. He tried to take pleasure in her simple courtesies. How she hung his tan jacket next to her coat, all the while insisting he get a hat and mittens. The hot mug she handed him, the way it thawed his slender fingers. The taste of cocoa on her silken lips as they kissed and she declared she'd missed him.

There was quiet conversation. She did most of the talking; he did his best to pay attention through the distraction of his anxiety. The cards had to be finished, she said. Just for her colleagues, a couple of family and friends, and, if he didn't mind, Penny. He didn't react to that last name, letting Y/N draw her own conclusions. She moved to sit side-saddle on the floor to work, next to her coffee table. As her hand crossed the cream cardstock, he noticed she was signing both their names. He gaped slightly in shock, delight spiking through him. But then delight twisted into unworthiness, and he averted his gaze to his hot chocolate.

He'd believed he was doing okay, though he still didn't have his medication. Especially since Penny had been transferred from Gotham General to the nursing home he'd chosen two weeks ago, and it had clicked that he'd never have to see her again. There were days he woke up (if he was fortunate enough to sleep) energized and confident. He had slipped into delusion once or twice. A call to Y/N or the feel of her hand had helped ground him and bring him back to lucidity. But his negative thoughts were bearing down on him. It was getting harder to separate what was intrusive and what was Arthur. If only he could find it within himself to be better.

Once she finished addressing the envelopes, Y/N extended a hand his way and smirked. Unsure if she wanted him to help her up or join her, he sat on the plush, cream color carpet. "I can hear you thinking. I'm surprised smoke isn't coming out of your ears," she said, laying a palm on his thigh. "You haven't told me what you want to do for Christmas."

He picked up one of the cards, traced his fingertips along the corners. He was bereft of his own traditions to draw from; all his points of reference were from popular culture. It was difficult to know what he'd actually like doing. He gave it a go, anyway. "I dunno. A tree? Listening to music? Being together?"

Chuckling, she put her head on his shoulder. "Of course we'll be together. And we can do the other stuff, too." Her voice lowered as she continued. The caress on his leg became a massage. "I get out early Thursday - Christmas Eve. How'd you feel about me being your guest for three days?"

"Hm." He loathed the possibility of exposing her to what was going on in his brain, his darker notions and malaise. He wanted to hold on for her. To be the gentle person she claimed he was, the man she claimed made her happy.

The man she was mistakenly convinced deserved her.

A kiss on the sensitive skin of his neck. "I'll bring dinner and everything."

Fuck. She thought he didn't want her, that she had to sell him on the idea of her company. He had to put a stop to that assumption. Didn't she know she'd become a brick, a building block in his unstable foundation? He couldn't deny her - he didn't wanted to deny her. Taking a deep breath, he turned to her. The warmth in her eyes buoyed him enough to use what little confidence he could muster. He took her hand, ran his thumb over the back of it, and he forced the corner of his lips up. "I'd love that."

~~~~~

There wasn't normally a spring in Y/N's step, but Arthur had a habit of causing one. She was smiling like a fool, too, walking with her suitcase and canvas bag. The happiest woman in Gotham. It couldn't be helped, even as she struggled to climb those damned concrete stairs to finally reach his block. This would be the best Christmas in ages.

The holiday had been her childhood favorite. But it had become taxing as her father's dementia had worsened, and her sister and she had grown apart. Not being able to leave her father unattended had forced them to celebrate at his house, which Y/N shared with him. A couple of slow cooker dishes would be made, ones her niece and nephews liked. She would do her best to make the large dining table festive, using a red tablecloth and making a centerpiece out of a wreath. Once everyone had sat around it, she'd alternate between taking a bite herself and trying to feed her father, trying to convince him to eat.

The final year had been the hardest. Distress had been clear in her sister and brother-in-law's faces, in their stilted conversation. The middle child had asked why grandpa wasn't talking. Y/N had never learned to communicate on a child's level, and had waited for her sister to take the lead. That hadn't happened. So she'd tried to explain the most painful, complicated situation she'd ever been in in terms a four year old could understand. When her father had started spitting out his mashed potatoes and crying, everyone had packed up and left.

It was understandable. Handling him was exhausting and she didn't want the kids to be traumatized. But it had left her resentful and grief-stricken. She'd cleaned him up and changed him. Then she'd sipped the nice wine she'd bought for the occasion and taken down the tree, tearing up with each bauble she'd put away while her father stared at the television in his wheelchair.

After dropping off a card at Ms. McPhee's, she hurried around the corner to Arthur's building. He was waiting for her at his door, dressed in the red sweater he knew she loved on him. She pecked his sharp cheekbone as he bent to take her luggage, and watched as he made a show of putting it beside the sofa. "Did you pack your whole apartment?"

"Almost," she said, already digging out the food she'd brought and placing it on the kitchen counter. The ham and pineapple casserole had to be popped in the oven for forty-five minutes. The two pieces of pie were from the diner near her office. Lastly, there were a carton of eggnog and a small bottle of whiskey.

He didn't say a lot, but she had a pretty good notion of what he was thinking: a variation on the refrain that she'd done too much. "Arthur, this is for me, too. Besides, you got the tree." Then she pulled him in for a kiss. Though his lips were soft and returned her affections, she could sense the apprehension in his shoulders, her palms sweeping across them. He was probably excited, she figured. And a little nervous, too. This was a milestone for them, after all. She smiled up at him encouragingly. "We're going to have a great time," she said. His nod was gentle.

Dinner went by quickly, which was a blessing because it was terrible. ("I swear, I followed my mother's recipe.") The apple pie was a good substitute for her favorite, blueberry. There wasn't any nutmeg to add to the eggnog. And Arthur covered the top of his mug when she wanted to spike it. He appeared to like it, anyway, and was soon pouring himself a second serving. GCR was playing Christmas music non-stop instead of news, so she turned on the radio. She led him to the living room and admired the tree he'd gotten.

The fir was maybe four inches taller than he was, probably six feet. There were plenty of branches, but it was slim enough to fit into the rear corner of the room, by the windows. The sharp, fresh scent of pine was wonderful. "You picked a great one." As she got into her luggage and dug out the white mini-lights, Arthur searched for an extension cord. Once the bulbs were in place, she knelt before the tree and handed him one of the tins of ornaments she'd packed.

Arthur tackled the upper half while she took care of the bottom. Her gaze turned up to him and she grew fuzzy all over. Concentration was plain in his squint, his handling of the glass-blown, red bulbs cautious. His fingertips carefully closed the hooks over each bough. How long had it been since he'd last done this? She reached out, giving his leg a reassuring squeeze before going through her own box of baubles. A soft sound stuck in her throat as she discovered what was inside.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

The shellacked, round cookie was in surprisingly good shape, its ribbon firmly attached. "My sister made this for me when we were little. I'd forgotten about it." She cradled it in her palm, a peal of laughter bubbling up. "One year I got a toy oven. Set the smoke alarms off, scared my mother half to death." Sipping her drink, she shook her head. "Mabel - who's younger than me, remember - decided to show me how it was done. She was always better at that stuff."

The memory prompted Y/N to continue. She mentioned her parents taking them to a department store a few towns over to visit Santa. How she'd been completely boring and asked for a typewriter and doll, which she'd gotten. The milkshake she'd had at the restaurant on the top floor. She felt uncharacteristically wistful. "That was a lifetime ago."

Most of the tree was adorned when she noticed he'd stopped responding. It was as though he was frozen in place, his face turned towards the floor. Y/N stood, taking in the clenching of his fists at his sides, the quiver of his frame, the twitch of his cheek. "Arthur?" She reached out to take his hand.

His arm yanked back as if she'd hit him. Then he marched around the sofa, past the television, and went straight into the bathroom. The locks slid into place as soon as he closed the door.

She was stunned. And, if she was honest, disappointed. All she'd wanted was to share more of herself with him. Gingerly, she walked to the door. No light shone from beneath it. The picture of him sitting alone in the dark on Christmas Eve pained her. She knocked.

Laughter broke up the strain in his voice. "I need a few minutes." After a pause, a hushed plea. "Please don't go."

"I won't."

Her lips pursed. The last few times she'd visited, she'd made a note to check his usual spots for prescription bottles. There hadn't been any. And there'd been no indication he'd used any of the doctor appointments she'd paid for. They'd have to discuss it. But not now. New Years was next weekend. She'd mention it then, as well as her hopes they'd be living together soon, treating it as something positive.

Beyond his laughing, he hadn't yet gone into any level of detail about his afflictions, his diagnoses. Since his appearance on Murray Franklin, she'd read almost the entire "Loving Someone With" series to learn how to handle problems when they arose. It had advised kindness, calm, and providing regularity. Discussion of normal things, plans for the future. That was what she had been trying to do. Why had Arthur reacted so poorly?

Then it dawned on her: the experiences that were normal to her, to most people, hadn't ever been so for him. Her thoughts went to the terrible details in the Arkham file he'd brought over. The unspecified categories of abuse he'd suffered. His severe head injury and its permanent effects. The radiator...

She recalled his reaction to the journal she'd given him for his birthday. He'd tried, in vain, to hide how affected he'd been by it. And it was only a few weeks ago he'd meekly asked if she'd ever stop loving him, as if it was a chore for her instead of bliss. It was tough, knowing how hard he had to work to accept her kindnesses.

Rubbing her eyes, she concluded she'd been an idiot. Well-intentioned, but an idiot regardless. She'd so looked forward to making new memories with Arthur, to being able to spend the holiday with someone who could enjoy it, she'd overwhelmed him. Set him off.

He needed space and, so far, she'd always paid the respect of giving that to him. It wouldn't be easy tonight, however. Every fiber of her wanted to rush in there, hold him, and tell him to confide in her. To allow her to support him. But she needed to listen to her brain instead of her heart (which Arthur made hard to do, being the one who'd helped her unlock it). She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes would be a good compromise. She could give him that.

The music had become deafening. After turning it down, she made her way to the kitchen and put away the rest of the food. Every scrub of the dishcloth on the beige plates they'd used, every wipe as she dried the cutlery, expressed her concern. Ornaments still littered the living room floor. A few more were hung before she put their boxes in her suitcase. She worried her lip when she came across the presents she'd gotten him, wrapped in luscious greens and golds. He'd like them, she was certain. If he was up to receiving them. She placed them under the tree, adjusting the tags so he could clearly read "Arthur," written in her looping cursive.

The clink of the bathroom door being unlocked was barely audible. Not wanting him to think she'd been hovering the entire time, she waited before approaching. Then she stepped forward and slowly opened it.

The light from the hall spilled into the room, sufficient to see Arthur sitting on the pink, tiled end of the bathtub. She took in the slump of his shoulders, his arms slack and folded in his lap. He spoke and his miserable rasp split her heart. "I'm- I'm sorry. I'm ruining everything."

"You're not." She turned on the floor lamp in the corner, then sat down on the closed toilet. "It wasn't fair of me to babble on and on like that. I didn't think abou-"

"Don't." It was clear the harshness of his tone was directed at himself. His dark brows creased in the middle as he wiped his nose, embarrassment clear in every gesture. "I just... I wanna be able to enjoy this like everyone else."

The skin of his hands was pink, likely from wringing. And his nails had been freshly chewed. Her chest tightened. "May I touch you?" she asked. At his curt nod, she smoothed his sleeve up to stroke his forearm. The grimace he wore was tight enough to show his dimples.

She'd learned it was vital to speak to his virtues in these moments. That was an easy thing to do - he had many. The compliments she paid him were true, and reflected what he valued in others. "You're so caring, Arthur." Her fingertips drifted down his laugh line to his thin lips. "And good. And funny." She blinked away the tears that threatened, the news articles from his mother's file fresh in her mind. "And strong. Stronger than anyone should have to be."

A dry, hitched sob left him and he shook his head. "You don't need to tell me lies."

"I'm not. I never will." Her kiss brushed the shallow wrinkles on his trembling chin, and she took his hand between her own. "You don't have to talk about it. But I'm here if you want to." A long silence followed, interrupted only by their soft breathing. Eventually, he trailed lines down her thigh, to her knee, caressing her as if she were gossamer.

She considered how he could have gone through such brutality, yet be the gentlest person she'd ever known.

Releasing a long sigh, he leaned his forehead to hers. "I can't," he whispered, lifting one shoulder.

"It's all right." Her grasp slid up and down his sides comfortingly. "I love you. It's okay."

It was awhile before he stood, pulling her with him and against his chest. She nestled into him and soaked up his heat, carding her fingers through his loose curls. "I- I picked out a movie. I think it starts soon." He held her hand as he walked towards the living room.

The analog TV sounded with bells and strings as Y/N got a blanket from the bed. She scurried to him and saw the names Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire flash on the screen. Of course, she thought. He'd picked a romantic musical. After turning off the lamp, she situated herself next to Arthur and draped the cover over them. The opening credits were rolling, but she could feel him watching her instead of the film. Then his touch grazed her bare ankle. She shifted towards him, a smile spreading across her face at the softness of his features. "What?"

His gaze dropped. "I wish I knew how to say how much I love you. Show you somehow."

The lights from the tree were giving his skin a warm glow, and reflected beautifully in his green eyes. She tipped his chin up and kissed him deeply, until they both had to pull away for air. Pink dusted his cheeks and he grinned bashfully, crooked tooth on display. "I know, Arthur." They snuggled closer under the cover and he entwined their hands. "I know."

~~~~~

Since she'd returned to him after Murray, they'd spent an increasing number of nights together. Arthur usually let Y/N sleep as long as she needed. Insisting she wake up with him wouldn't have been fair. She worked hard and the extra hour or two was helpful. But he couldn't hold back Christmas morning.

He made a valiant attempt to pass the time. Really. He'd already shaven, smoked a couple of cigarettes, retrieved her presents, and plugged in the tree. He noticed she'd placed gifts under it, labelled "Arthur" and elegantly wrapped in paper nicer than what he'd been able to pick-up at the drug store. He glided his fingers over them. The corner of his mouth lifted. Written in her script, his name was beautiful.

Thankfully, he was in better sorts than the night before. Enthusiasm for her gripped him. He tip-toed to the bedroom and watched her sleeping form from the doorway. It was still dark - the sun wouldn't be up for another hour - but he could picture what she looked like. Her wet breathing and slight snore meant her pillow had a spot of drool near her mouth. There was a fifty-fifty chance her nightgown had twisted up just beneath her breasts. The blanket may have slipped below her waist, leaving her hip exposed. He knelt next to the bed and palmed the side of her neck, planting kisses to her face until she groaned.

"Your hair tickles," she mumbled. Her arm went around his back and brought him closer. "What time is it?"

"Early." Before standing, he gave her one last peck on the mouth. "But I couldn't wait any longer." He padded to the kitchen to start the french toast they'd decided on.

He was in the middle of cracking eggs when she sat across from him on the other side of the breakfast bar. "It's nice to have someone to celebrate with again," she said, leaning up and forward to peek in his bowl. "I'm happy it's you." He cocked his head at that. She'd had a family before, a sister and brother-in-law. Nieces and nephews. A father. He asked her to elaborate but she shrugged it off. "Just a few rough years. That's all. Don't waste your time on it."

Learning about her was one of the things he liked about having a girlfriend. As sappy as it sounded, even to himself, it made him feel like she was a part of him, and he a part of her. Dr. Sally said open communication was important. If he was going to be a good boyfriend, Y/N should be able to talk to him without fearing he couldn't handle it. He grasped her hand and borrowed her phrase from last night. "You can talk to me." Their gazes met as he ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. "I'm okay today."

A wry grin appeared. "Let's just say we've both experienced difficult family situations." She took his fork and finished beating the eggs for him as he turned on the stove. "This is a big step in putting that awfulness behind me."

The way she seemed to understand him, even if she was talking about herself, prompted him to clear his throat. "Me, too." He dipped the bread in the bowl, then placed it in the frying pan.

When they were finished eating (it'd been so much better than the casserole she'd made, and he'd never had real maple syrup before), Y/N poured them both more coffee and made her way to the living room. Arthur offered to turn on the news, aware she was still waiting for coverage on the Wayne Foundation case, but she waved dismissively. "I don't want to think about that today. God knows I already think about it too much."

They took turns opening gifts, sitting on the floor by the tree, close enough for him to feel the heat she was emanating. Y/N immediately opened her chocolate Santa and broke off a piece for him. The musk oil perfume he'd picked up for her at Helm's Pharmacy had been on sale for $1.79, and he was grateful he'd remembered to remove the price tag before wrapping it. She dabbed it on her wrist. It was different on her than it was in the bottle, a bit stronger than expected. But she was wearing something he'd given her, so it was lovely nonetheless. Her favorite of the three presents seemed to be the old, tapered, white vase he'd found. She needed it, he explained. That time he'd given her a rose, she'd stuck it in a drinking glass.

What he'd given her were simple trinkets, born out of a vague idea of what women were supposed to like. Despite her apparent delight and the kisses she'd bestowed on him after opening each one, they felt inadequate compared to what she gave him. There was a teal sweater, one she claimed would bring out (in her words) his "beautiful eyes." He pulled it on over his thermal shirt, tags and all. She'd gotten him a book on comedy writing. He wasn't sure how to take that - had she decided his jokes weren't very good? But then she told him she expected more material for his next stand-up show.

Picking up the last gift, he studied it with mock seriousness. Its shape and weight gave away it was a record, but he had no idea which one. They often enjoyed quiet evenings with his collection of older standards, but she preferred more modern songs. Maybe it was an attempt to introduce him to what she liked. He'd gladly listen to it, at least once. He peeled the pretty paper back and exhaled sharply. The LP was old, the cover worn. It was the soundtrack to Modern Times, a film he'd caught once or twice and loved the music of. Holding it to his chest, he murmured a quiet, "Thank you." Eagerly, he got up and put it on, letting the orchestra and his love for her wash over him, soothe his battered soul.

Y/N followed and splayed a hand on the small of his back. "Gotham Pops played this at the Wayne benefit last month." Giggling, she tousled his hair. "I spent the evening wishing you were next to me. It would have been nice to show you off, all dressed up and handsome." He stiffened for a second, wondering if he should tell her he had been there. If he should practice the honesty he'd been working on since Murray. Perhaps knowing he'd accompanied her, in his own way, would please her. But she interrupted his thoughts before he could speak. "The Christmas parade starts in an hour. We should go now if you still want to see it. Neither of us are very tall - we need a good spot." Her lips brushed his ear. "I brought an extra hat and mittens for you."

He spun to face her as he nodded, and she nuzzled at his nose and sighed. The wide smile she wore halted his breath. It would have been nice if this hadn't been his only real Christmas. If his first thirty-five years hadn't been a cruel joke, a tragedy. But he was glad to have this taste of happiness with her.

He hadn't longed for a paralegal from another part of the country, a woman who couldn't dance well and never guessed the punchlines of his jokes. But what he was about to say was true all the same. He cupped her face and kissed her firmly. "You're the one I always wanted," he whispered against her. "Merry Christmas, Y/N." The words felt unnatural - he was unsure when he had last said them.

The love in her look let him know he'd done all right. "You're the man I never knew I needed. And I do, Arthur." He closed his eyes at her embrace, laying his cheek against her temple as she cuddled into him. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Fleck." Her next sentence and the touch of her mouth to his jaw made him shiver. "Maybe next year we won't have to choose whose apartment will have the tree."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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wedreamerz · 4 years

Text

The Island of Maravu - Chapter 2

The Island of Maravu

Chapter 2 - The Bunker

Pairing: Starker AU (Peter is 22)

Rated: Overall: E / Chapter: T

Status: WIP

Summary: The Avengers are in shambles and Tony Stark just needs to get out from under the fallout. So, he does what every genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist does - he buys an island. Maravu is just the escape Tony is looking for until one morning a beautiful young man arrives with secrets and a smile that makes Tony’s broken heart beat again.

Some Tags: AU, A little angst, Smut and Fluff is the goal here people but I can’t just do that apparently without backstory and plot. No real trigger warnings that I can think of unless water or storms are an issue for you. If you run into something I didn’t think of, let me know.

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~

The birds hated him. They were in cahoots. Thirty-three days on Maravu and the birds woke him up before the sun every freaking morning. Tony stirred, rolled over and scowled at the open window. They were at it again.

He groaned and put a pillow over his head.

"Friday, play something loud."

"Playing your Something Loud playlist," Friday said. Tony rolled his eyes, noting the amusement in her voice before the opening guitar riff of Def Leppard's Photograph blasted through the speakers.

The cabin, a simple, but cozy one-room affair with a fireplace, sofa, kitchenette and dining room table, suited him perfectly. One of the two luxury items he'd insisted upon, besides Friday and the technical upgrades he'd made, was the queen-sized bed that dominated the bedroom area of the cabin. He'd have flown in a king if it would have fit. But even the queen was pushing it.

The cabin came equipped with an attached bathroom and shower. But Tony had grown accustomed to showering in the original, outdoor shower that ran using accumulated rainwater. Something about showering outside in the sun brought out the hedonist in him.

During his first week on Maravu, Tony installed a self-sustained arc reactor to solve the electricity problem and ensured they’d had fast reliable wi-fi. The plantation resumed operation the following week with Mr. Umbari as manager. Tony liked the huge mountain of a man. They worked well together and at the end of a long day, he often sought out his calming presence at the community fire that burned in the village's center courtyard most evenings.

They would talk about the day and share a drink before retiring. Tony liked to watch him talk, his expressive, deeply lined face and white, wiry hair and beard that stood up as though it had a mind of its own. Mr. Umbari had learned to speak English by watching episodes of old American shows like MASH and Happy Days and Tony found himself smiling when now and then he recognized a familiar phrase. When the reactor went live, Mr. Umbari had celebrated by giving Tony the double Fonzie thumbs before dragging him into a chest busting hug.

For the most part, the islanders didn't intrude on Tony’s solitude. Mr. Umbari was a fair and able leader, so Tony didn't get involved in the day to day operations unless they needed him. But periodically he'd be working in the lab he’d set up near his cabin and hear someone call out "Turaga Ni Kaukamea!" Tony would look outside to see someone emerge from the trees and request his assistance at the plantation.

Mr. Umbari addressed him as Mr. Stark even after Tony had invited him to call him by his first name. But the rest of the islanders called him Turaga Ni Kaukamea or sometimes just Kaukamea. Friday had translated it as basically Man of Iron.

So, they were aware of who he was. But no one ever asked to see the suit or wondered why he'd chosen to live on the island when it was clear his own house was in such disarray. They didn't bring it up at all. They expressed their gratitude in humble ways and treated him like anyone else on the island, which was perfect with Tony.

He peeked out from under his pillow to find that the sky has lightened into a midnight blue with the faint orange glow of dawn creeping up behind the windowsill.

"Okay, okay. Stop the music and start the coffee," he said, giving in. "And play me something tropical.”

"You do realize that the current temperature is 76 degrees with a humidity of 94%?" Friday asked as the sound of steel drums and ukulele began.

"My body still thinks it's December in New York, don't judge me," Tony snarked back, smiling when the coffee pot came to life. The rich aroma of the local blend infused his little cabin as the sun crested the horizon.

Tony threw back the sheet and stretched. He drew a deep breath and padded naked across the wood floor to the little kitchenette that consisted of the smallest stove he'd ever seen, a microwave, and a refrigerator that was straight out of the '70s in avocado green. The fanciest thing in the kitchen was his second luxury item – his beloved Concordia espresso machine.

He poured a cup into one of the chipped mugs that had come with the place and took it outside to the fire pit he'd built in the dooryard. His cabin was far enough away from the beach to be safe from the tide but close enough that his view from the fire was the perfect place to watch the sun come up. Tony lit the fire and settled into his camp chair with his coffee to do just that.

Although he tried to focus on his plans for the day, his mind wandered down paths he preferred to avoid. He tried not to spend his time worrying about the wayward Avengers, Rhodey, and the countless ways he had and continued to fail Pepper. But in those quiet moments when it was just him and the traitorous birds, Tony let it in.

He rubbed his chest. Like a phantom limb, it ached as it had for months after his last meeting with Steve.

And Barnes.

Tony sighed. Pepper had insisted he see a shrink after everything went down. He'd gone - a couple of times. But he still couldn't talk about it. Hell, he couldn't even think about it without igniting the flame of resentment and hatred. Logically he understood that Barnes had been brainwashed by Hydra. He was no more responsible for his actions than Clint had been for what he'd done when under the power of Loki's scepter.

Nevertheless, here Tony was. If Barnes were to materialize before him, Tony would probably try to bash his head in with a coconut.

Probably. Maybe.

Barnes may have the benefit of Tony’s doubt, the mind-controlled pass. But Steve...Cap…he’d made his choices all on his own. Tony oscillated between hope and fear that the big, stubborn man would get caught. He had no idea what he would say to the man if he ever saw him again. But he had the little burner phone Steve had mailed to Tony Stank tucked into his sock drawer nonetheless.

The temperature had risen just a little. On the horizon, Tony spied a rain cloud, one of those slow-moving clouds you could watch approach with its sheets of rain that blanketed the island at least once a day.

He frowned.

"Friday, what's the weather supposed to be like today?"

"Fair in the morning with severe thunderstorms rolling in at approximately 1:34 P.M."

"I suppose I should get started then," he said, gulping down the rest of his coffee. He put the mug in the sink and fished a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his dresser. It was time to check on the arc reactor.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Boss, the Fiji Meteorological Society has issued a tropical storm warning with potential for rotation in this area and is expected it hit earlier than expected," Friday warned.

Tony crawled out from under the arc reactor's electronics panel and adjusted his glasses.

"How bad?" he asked, wiping his hands on a towel. He peered up at the doughnut-shaped reactor housing. The walls of the cave in which he'd built it flickered blue and purple as it purred softly.

There was a certain amount of poetic justice in this, he thought. He'd started this in a cave. And now here he was again, minus the car battery and armed guards. And this arc reactor was designed only to help.

Tony climbed a small set of metal stairs, freshly painted safety yellow, which led to the ground floor. He opened a set of doors and entered the circular antechamber where islanders could look through the reinforced glass at the arc reactor below. They'd installed bunker doors at the mouth of the cave for emergencies. But they were usually left open to the public. The reactor itself was locked and protected by Friday. No one entered without Tony's knowledge.

Outside, the palm trees swayed and here and there little puffs of dirt from the path twisted into the air with leaves and rocks. Tony had been in the reactor bunker for a few hours and the wind had picked up considerably.

"Radar indicates wind speed of approximately 22 miles per hour. No active rotation," Friday said.

Tony chewed his lip and considered the news. When he'd moved in, Mr. Umbari had gone over their storm preparedness plan. The island had a storm bunker for its inhabitants. As though he'd summoned the man, Mr. Umbari and his orange menace of a golf cart sped around the corner. He slid in next to Tony's red cart, barely missing the tail end as he turned the sharp corner. Tony chuckled and shook his head as Mr. Umbari unfolded his long legs and climbed out from under the orange and white striped canopy. He hurried toward the bunker as the first drops of rain plip-plopped against his yellow rain slicker. As soon as he saw Tony Mr. Umbari grinned and waved. Tony ushered him inside and hit the button to close the bunker doors.

"Mr. Stark. The boys said you were here," Mr. Umbari said, entering through the single door.

"Yeah, I was just checking on the reactor, giving her a tune-up. Friday says we've got a storm on the way?"

Mr. Umbari had been introduced to the AI and he seemed completely charmed by her.

He smiled at the ceiling. "Hello, Ms. Friday. Thank you for keeping Mr. Stark so informed."

"It's my pleasure, Sir," she answered in her pleasant Irish lilt earning a grin from Mr. Umbari.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Friday is correct, Sir. Since this is your first storm on the island, I wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"Thanks for your concern. I'll finish up here and go down to the cabin, batten down the hatches and be in the bunker in time for dinner, Dad." Tony smiled at the large man as he put away his tools."

Mr. Umbari laughed, deep and genuine. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear it. I hear that Skillet has already begun a pot of lamb stew for the occasion."

Tony's stomach growled at the thought of food and he realized he hadn't eaten yet today.

"Skillet's cooking?" Tony asked and Mr. Umbari grinned.

"If Skillet's in the kitchen I'm not gonna miss it," Tony said.

Kitchen wizard and culinary school dropout, Skillet worked the plantation to help pay off his student loans. But one meal at Skillet's table told Tony that the young Fijian was wasting his talents.

Tall, whip-thin, with long black curls he kept up in a messy bun most days, the kid could cook rings around the overpriced chefs at any of the five-star Manhattan restaurants. Tony had offered to pay his debt and set him up in a spot of his own, wherever he wanted. But Skillet turned him down every time.

Tony, being Tony, had been trying to come up with a loophole that kid would accept to no avail. But he had one final trick up his sleeve he planned to save until the right moment. As Tony's chef, Skillet would both pay down his debt and have his talents recognized by the top critics around the world at the events Tony threw. It was a win-win for both of them.

Mr. Umbari nodded, evidently pleased with Tony's response.

"Good. Good. I should go to make sure the animals are safe. I will see you there, my friend! Goodbye, Ms. Friday," he said.

Tony smiled, amused at the way the islanders treated everything with a relaxed acceptance. Even in the face of a potentially damaging storm, they prepared for a gathering of families.

"See you there."

~~~~~~~~~~

Tony stepped into the storm bunker and was immediately enveloped in the delicious aroma of stew and fresh bread. He breathed in deeply and looked around the room, impressed by the setup. The bunker looked like a basement with concrete walls and floors. A bar and small kitchen stood on the right side of the room where Skillet was working his magic. The left side was lined with padded seats. They'd made the cold, grey room into a warm and comfortable place to gather with tapestries on the walls, and woven rugs and pillows on the floors.

"Turaga ni kaukamea!" several children called and swarmed, reaching up to be held and tugging him toward the group of adults who sat at the tables lined up end to end in the center of the room.

"Oh hey!" he exclaimed when a little girl who couldn't be more than four climbed him like a palm tree. The adults laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He sat down in one of the folding chairs and held her on his lap.

"Kaukamea, what are you building in your lab? Filipe says you have a ghost and you talk to it. Does it help you build things?" she asked.

"Who told you that?"

The little girl pointed to a boy with bronze skin and wide, curious eyes. He looked up at Tony in fascination from the safety of his mother's arms.

"Filipe?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. The boy nodded dramatically.

"And what's your name?" Tony asked the girl.

"Sara," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Sara and Filipe. It just so happens that I am currently working on some upgrades to the arc reactor technology that runs the island. Have you seen the new bunker?"

All the children nodded in unison.

"So, if...and Filipe, I'm looking at you here… IF someone were sneaking around my lab, they may have heard me talking to Friday, who is not a ghost. She's more like a really, really smart computer who can talk."

"Is she smarter than you?" Sara asked, wide-eyed.

"Well...technically, yes. I built her. But I taught her to learn. She has access to all the information on the internet. So, she knows like...everything."

"Woooow," the children chorused.

"Right? She’s crazy smart.”

"Kaukamea, can we meet Friday?” Sara asked. "I have a computer at home. But it's never spoken to me before. Do you think if I brought it over, Friday could teach it how to talk?"

The children murmured their agreement, each of them wanting Friday to teach their computers to talk too. Tony noticed that the adults had stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation.

Tong chuckled. "Unfortunately, your home computers aren't quite as smart as Friday. But if it's okay with your parents, you can come by the lab to meet Friday. But listen, it's super important that if you come to visit me that you don't go into the lab by yourself. You never know what I'm working on. And it could be dangerous. Do you all understand?"

The children agreed and ran off to play. The adults chuckled and resumed their conversations. Sara wiggled down from his lap and grabbed Filipe's hand.

"I told you there wasn't a ghost," she said.

"Well, it sounded like a ghost," he said.

"Sorry about that," one of the women said, taking a seat next to Tony. "The children are so curious about you. I'm Delana, Sara's mother." She held out her hand and Tony shook it with a smile. Delana was a little younger than Tony with caramel skin and sleek black hair she wore swept up in a ponytail.

"It's okay. I'm used to it. I just wanted to make sure they don't get hurt."

"Thank you for looking out for them. And for everything you've done for the island. When Mr. Umbari was forced to sell, we thought that everyone here would be forced off the island. But you swooped in and allowed us to keep our homes, brought reliable electricity and Wi-Fi, and helped us keep our jobs. You have truly been a blessing."

Tony nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I'm glad I could do some good," he said.

Delana tilted her head; she studied him a moment before smiling and patting his hand. "Let me get you some stew," she said finally before getting up and heading to the kitchen where people had begun to get in line.

Tony tuned in to the conversations around him. The people spoke in a mix of English and Fijian. Friday helped by providing translation on the lenses of his glasses and he followed the conversations. Delana returned with a big bowl of stew and a plate piled with roti, a flatbread the islanders seemed to have at almost every meal.

The storm hit late in the evening with everyone gathered around a large pot-bellied stove as Mr. Umbari told stories to the nervous children. They invited Tony into one of the wooden rocking chairs by the fire. He'd refused several times because although he owned the island and everyone had been more than welcoming, Tony couldn't shake the sense that he was still an outsider, merely a means to an end for these people. But eventually, he accepted and as the wind howled outside and Friday fed him updates about the storm, Tony drifted off to sleep in the warmth of the fire.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed

@caseyhasissues @iroironfestivalgoopmaker @unicornpower5301

#starker #tony x peter #peter parker #tony stark #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic

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banchoaniki · 4 years

Note

Multiples of 4 then ☠

4: Talk show host: Imma be real w you I havent watched a talk show since attack of the show on g4 and that got cancelled years ago 8: Yankee candle scent: Fresh Balsam Fir. Smells like christmas and being cozy. Pine scents in general are god tier 12: Thing to cook: Anything that puts a smile on the face of those who eat it. Or Steak, Mashed Potatoes and Asparagus. Its easy, nutritious, and delicious. (That’d make a good dating profile header) 16: Book: Hard question. I’d have to go with Colorless Tsukuru and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami. 20: Holiday: Thanksgiving! I was born on it, so I have to like it. Other than that, toss up between Halloween and Christmas. 24: Movie: Uhhhhhhh, for live action, its a toss up between A Clockwork Orange and Apocalypse Now. For animated, Mind Game 28: Band: I dont follow a ton of bands, so Death Grips I guess. Its not like I dont listen to other music, but its mostly individual songs as opposed to deep diving into their discography 32: Athlete: I dont follow sports dude. Maybe like Usain Bolt cause he also has a pet tortoise like me. 36: Vehicle: Triump Bonneville T-100 40: Last person I got mad at: Uhh my former friend who’s girlfriend left him for being a piece of shit basically 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: I’m not missing anyone a whole ton rn. Wish we could meet tho jaz! 48: Ever been in love: Of course, its great and terrible 52: My room is: Fairly messy rn but I’ll clean up soon. 56: Favorite web site: Certainly not tumblr dot com. Idk dude probably like youtube cause I spend a lot of time watching videos or listening to podcasts. 60: I lose all respect for people who: Treat their partners like crap 64: My friends are: Great people! Things have been getting better for a lot of people in my circle of friends recently, and they really deserve it! 68: The worst sound in the world: Nails on chalkboard. 72: Today: Pretty ok day. Need to get a few things under control and still need to work out a bit, but studied hard and met up w a classmate to work on a project together! 76: Right now I am talking to: No one in particular, but ive been talking to friends throughout the day 80: The first person i talked to today was: Probably my dad when he woke me up 84: People call me: a lot of things im sure. Depends on who you ask. 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: Connection to where I live. My family’s owned my house for almost 100 years now, living elsewhere lacks that certain je ne sais quoi 92: Got a peircing: Never! maybe in the future tho... 96: Changed a diaper: also never! didn’t have any siblings or a close connected family growing up so I never had to. When I’m a dad, I’m sure I will though 100: Cried in front of someone: Oh jeez, not really sure. Maybe a few months ago, but I can’t recall what for 104: The future: Its filled with infinite possibilities, I just have to work for a future I want. I’m not too worried about stability, but you never know. Always try to have contingency plans for your contingency plans. 108: Designer Clothes: Generally overpriced trash. I’d rather buy from a local artisan that makes clothes specifically for me. Not like I don’t shop for clothes or like looking good, but theres a lot of issues in the fashion industry that I take umbrage with and like to look for alternatives. 112: Facebook: Boomerbook is convenient website that I use on occasion but I find to be fairly toxic, like most social media, so i rarely post on it. I just use the messenger app to talk with friends. 116: Reality TV: Utter trash! There are a billion other ways to spend your time that are more productive and beneficial to yourself and others that getting caught up in some fake drama with celebrities. 120: Gay Marriage: I don’t believe any kind of marriage should be regulated by the government, as its a religious sacrament. If churches want to allow it, that’s their prerogative that I won’t infringe on, but that’s in an ideal world. As it stands, I don’t have any strong feels for or against it, insofar that I think most marriages are fairly toxic. 124: Disney or Six Flags: Didney Worl 128: Manicure or Pedicure: I’ll take both, thanks 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Whomst’d’ve? 136: Hillary or Obama: Both are genuinely terrible people like most, if not all, government officials in Washington. 140: Mac or PC: I built my own PC but iPads do be kinda fresh tho I can see why people who don’t have the same hobbies or interests prefer macs, their visual design blows most PCs out of the water, and they’re functional for work and video editing. They’re obviously overpriced for the performance, but you’re buying it for the label and the well designed UI (generally, theres obviously some UI designs that are/were less than great by apple) 144: Oranges or Apples: While I like oranges, I FUCKING LOVE apples. So yeah, apples, particularly Fuji apples. 148: Summer or winter: Winter. I live in Los Angeles. Our winters are mild and maybe drizzley. Our summers are hellish. Easy choice. 152: Phone or Online: Uh I mean I like talking on the phone but texting or instant messaging is super convenient and, really, a very different form of communication that I engage in more. 156: Orbs: Do i believe in orbs? What kind of orbs? idk dude this is very nondescript and im too lazy to research this. Orbs as a geometric object do exist yes. Jury is still out on whatever the fuck this is asking tho 160: Soul mates: A distinct possibility that I’d love to be true 164: Heaven: I’m catholic, pretty sure I have to believe in it. 168: Luck: Yeah, I believe in it, but I also believe we make our own luck most times. 172: Are you taller than your mom? yeah shes like 5′2 176: Last YouTube video watched: Sure hope you like smooth japanese jazz fusion https://youtu.be/6GEI3PpXEAo 180: Marriage is: A great responsibility I hope to be ready for one day. It can be incredible and life-affirming or it can be soul crushing if you rush into things or just have a bad partner. I don’t mean to be cynical, I genuinely believe its a beautiful thing, but so many marriages today end up horribly, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of it at the same time. 184: Xbox or ps3: Whichever game console can give me a better user experience with better games and services. Right now that’s playstation, but I sincerely hope microsoft steps up to the plate next gen. 188: My bed is: A queen. Kinda messy rn. 192: I am allergic to: Nothing in particular 196: My eye color is: Green! I’m actually pretty proud of them, its the rarest eye color in the world, so its part of what makes me who I am. 200: My crush’s name is: Jaz (no homo) But also I’m not single so I don’t necessarily have any rn

PS: I sincerely apologize for this wall of text y’all

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abovethemists · 5 years

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If you're interested i would go with #12 for rushacey , and i was thinking #25 and #43 for phantom pain (if you want)

WHY WOULD YOU EVER PROMPT PHANTOM PAIN FOR A HAPPY CHRISTMAS FICATHON!? You’re sadistic. I like you. I went with #25 because I am cruel. This takes place the first Christmas after Belle’s “death”.

“I won’t make it home for Christmas”

Read it on AO3

Feel free to send me more prompts, a number and a ship, from this prompt list!

Lacey heaved a sigh, her breath condensing in a frozen puff in front of her. She cupped her hands together, blowing on them for warmth, pulling her shoulders up to mask her naked ears from the icy wind. She should have grabbed her gloves and hat, but she’d been in a hurry. She wanted to get a visit in before the weather turned. It was Christmas Eve and that meant she needed to visit family, the only family she had.

The cemetery was a dismal sight today of all days and she wound her way through the headstones in a familiar path stopping when she reached the one she was looking for. It was clean, well kept despite the fact she hadn’t visited in weeks. There was a fresh bouquet of winter roses in a silver vase at the base.

Belle Gold

Beloved wife, daughter, sister and friend.

Lacey snorted, as she always did, at the sentiment. Daughter shouldn’t be there. Belle had been beloved, but not by Moe French. The man had hardly registered when his daughter had died, too far in his cups to notice or care. As for friend, Lacey shook her head with a sigh. No one else seemed as effected by Belle’s passing as she did. No one but Gold.

A gust of wind blew through the cemetery, picking up the scant fallen leaves that hadn’t crumbled to nothing and blowing them across Belle’s plot. Lacey fixated her eyes on one of them, clinging to the side of the headstone, just as dead as Belle.

It was a shit day.

Not that every day wasn’t a shit day recently. The past six months had been one long string of shit days without a single break in the clouds. But today was worse.

One year ago she’d spent Christmas Eve with Gold and Belle in the big Victorian she’d come to think of as home. She’d certainly spent more time there than at her father’s bleak apartment. All he did was bark orders at her, demanding she bring him another beer as he seemed permanently fused to his recliner. By contrast, the Gold’s house was warm and inviting, a true home. Last Christmas Eve Belle had made beef bourguignon served with garlic mashed potatoes and finished the whole thing off with a genuine figgy pudding. They’d drunk mulled wine and watched White Christmas and Lacey had fallen asleep in the armchair next to the fire pretending she didn’t notice when her sister and brother-in-law’s canoodling turned to full on fondling before they excused themselves upstairs.

Home had been full to bursting with Christmas spirit, the smell of fresh gingerbread and the nine foot Balsam fir in the living room surrounded by brown paper packages with bows of red and green. Lacey couldn’t even remember what Belle had given her last Christmas, but she was certain she’d loved it. She loved everything about Belle and without her the holiday seemed meaningless. Home was Belle and without Belle she had no home.

The weather seemed to match Lacey’s mood. It was bitterly cold out, oppressive clouds hanging low in the sky threatening snow. But somehow the break hadn’t come yet, despite the failing daylight as day turned to evening. It didn’t feel right to not have snow on Christmas. But Lacey supposed that worked this year. It wouldn’t feel like Christmas no matter what the weather. It was just another day.

She squared her shoulders, looking down at the lump of granite in front of her bearing her sister's name.

“Hey,” she said, kicking her foot against the frozen earth, the brown grass flattening beneath the toe of her boot with a satisfying crunch. “I, um, I know I haven’t been to see you in a while…”

She trailed off. She always felt stupid talking to a lump of stone like it was her sister. Her sister was gone and nothing would bring her back. Lacey just wished she was buried beneath the ground with her.

Their mother used to tell a story when they were young, about how after the girls were born they’d been taken to the NICU. They were so tiny and struggling to regulate their own body temperatures until the nurses had the idea to put them together in the same bed. They’d held each other tight, wrapping their tiny baby arms around each other until their vitals stabilized. It didn’t seem right for Belle to be alone now when they’d come into the world holding each other. Lacey would give anything to be able to hold her tight now, in death if nothing else.

“Hey,” she began again, clearing her throat and trying to find the words to say. “It’s Christmas.”

Lacey shrugged, a stupid giggle escaping her lips. “Like you care what day it is. But you always loved this time of year. Our whole lives you made Christmas magical. Even after mum died and dad stopped giving a damn, you kept it special. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that. I don’t know if I ever really even thought about it until now. I took so many things about you for granted because you were always just there. My big sister. And fuck, Bells, I really miss you.”

She stopped, heaving a breath. She was crying though she didn’t remember when the tears began to fall. They were cold, freezing to her cheeks, and she didn’t bother to brush them away.

“I won’t make it home for Christmas this year,” she forged on, shaking her head. “Because I don’t know what home is without you. But we’ll be together again one day. I have to believe that because if I don’t…”

She trailed off, suddenly aware that she was no longer alone in the cemetery. There was a crunch behind her, footsteps on the frosty ground, and Lacey shut her eyes. She knew who it was, who it always was.

She swiped her tears away with trembling hands, turning to face the only person in town who might be more grief stricken than herself.

Gold was standing there, a pot of poinsettias in the crook of his arm, his other hand clasping the gold cane he’d carried ever since the accident that had taken Belle from them.

“Lacey,” he said, striding forward to set the poinsettias next to Belle’s headstone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No,” Lacey said with a shake of her head. “I’m done. I was just leaving.”

Gold pressed a kiss to his gloved hand before brushing it across Belle’s headstone, an intimate caress Lacey felt awkward witnessing. She turned away, staring off across the cemetery instead.

“She always loved this time of year,” Gold said, coming to stand beside Lacey.

“Yeah,” Lacey agreed.

“She had that poinsettia wreath she always hung on the door, remember?” he asked. “It seemed appropriate today.”

“Yeah,” Lacey said again, dumbly.

It was like this ever since Belle’s death. She and Gold had been close once. They’d been friends. He’d looked out for her as Belle’s sister, found her an apartment so she didn’t have to live with their father anymore, loaned her money any time she needed it. They’d gotten along too. They had similar dry senses of humor, they both loved to tease Belle, they had similar taste in alcohol. All that seemed to evaporate in the face of their shared pain. There was only loss left between them.

Lacey was all too aware that her presence did nothing but pain Gold. To see his wife’s face, her mirror image, before him had to be a pain like nothing else. Lacey knew. There was a reason she avoided mirrors lately. She and Belle were identical down to the last freckle.

In one fell swoop Lacey had lost both of her best friends. She didn’t have the foggiest idea how to get the one that still lived back.

“Well,” she said with a nod. “I’ll let you have your time with her.”

She started to shuffle away, her breath coming harder as the tears started to fall again when Gold’s voice stopped her.

“Lacey,” he called, and she froze, not daring to turn around. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

She turned, staring at him disbelievingly.

“Getting drunk,” she said flatly. “The quicker the better.”

“I had similar plans,” he said, inclining his head forward. “Care to join me?”

“I can’t,” she said, the words tumbling out before she’d even considered them. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I just…going to your house on Christmas of all days it’s too much. Too many memories.”

Gold let out a breath, walking closer to her. “I know,” he said. “I couldn’t decorate this year. It seemed wrong without her but that cold, empty house without any Christmas cheer seems wrong too. I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Lacey nodded. “I don’t know what to do either,” she said with a shrug.

One moment she was keeping it together and the next she was breaking, a ragged gasp escaping her chest, the sobs that had wanted to come all day breaking forth. She couldn’t breathe, her chest aching with the effort to draw breath, as inhuman keening noises were ripped from her throat. Lacey found herself pulled in to Gold’s embrace, the soft wool of his overcoat against her cheek as she buried her face against his neck. He smelled like wooden furniture polish and the jasmine scented candles Belle loved. He smelled like gingerbread and Balsam fir. He smelled like home.

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his back. His arm wrapped around her waist, the only thing keeping her upright. Moments our hours later she surfaced again, her throat soar and her eyes burning from the tears. She pulled back, looking up in to eyes that were just as red rimmed as hers must have been.

She coughed, taking a step back from Gold. She had no right to cling to him, to sob on his shoulder. He was hurting just as much as she was. He was alone just like her.

“I um,” he began dabbing at his face with his silk pocket square. “I have scotch in my shop. Would you like a drink? No point in us both being alone this year, right?”

Lacey bit her lip, looking up at his dark amber eyes, the failing light of the day catching gold highlights in his brown hair. She’d always thought he was handsome, but it was an academic sort of acknowledgement. He was Belle’s and she’d never thought of him as anything else.

“Yeah, okay,” she said with a nod.

#rumbelle fic #golden lace #25 days of ficlets #raven's fic #fic: phantom pain #ctdg

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farmhaus · 2 years

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[edited]

someday fuck this shit man, someday fuck this HAPPY HOLIDAYS to poor-pitiful-me, look at me martyr myself for this-that-and-the-other, with the rest of my family trying to ignore how sorry and confused they feel about my choices and my current state and my mental health and the whole fucking charade. someday my self-loathing aunt won't write things like "AND WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR ON A RANCH IN COLORADO, ANYWAY??" in the most aggressive way possible, italicized and bolded like what the fuck are you 12?

no, no no no no. because I know this formula, stupid and hilariously flawed and riddled with issues and switchback turns and labyrinths of emotions, and seemingly pointless tasks to achieve minimal FUCKING MINIMAL baby steps in some direction I can barely discern -- I know this formula will pay off, I know it will work. because I know how badly I want it, and more importantly I know what I want.

the day will come. that christmas will come. I won't even need to see my parents or my siblings or their brood et cetera, though I certainly will. I'll have exactly what I need all around me. I will have a healthy, roaring fire in the woodstove or fireplace, kettle slowly steaming. there will be handmade rugs and quilts and christmas tapestries and quilted pillows for comfort, a live fir tree that just weeks prior WE cut and dragged in the snow in boots and carhartts and flannel, because that's what we wear. I may be a touch wrinkled and leathery, my hair lightly silvered, but I will be trim and agile and full of laughter and red cheeks and a wide smile. this will also go for my beautiful children, whatever race or background they hail from, whatever age they are, whether biological or adopted or fostered, they will love the shit out of me and my mashed potatoes and our goose and my gravy and my bread and our canned vegetables from the summer's bounty. we will eat to a fill, drink fresh milk with the cream-top and make egg nog from our blue and green and lavender eggs, even when the kids insist on cracking them and get shells in the mix despite my warning. I'll gently pick them out.

we'll talk about where reindeer really come from, how they're like elk, how they're different. I'll ask my eldest if they remembered to lock the chickens in, they will look panic-stricken and quickly run to the mud room to don a jacket and boots; likely returning from the bitter cold with haste. I'll pat their back and smile and say "thanks for doing that, bub."

cookies will inevitably get passed around. the tree will glow with homemade ornaments and strings of lights, a perfect star to top it. the dog or cat or both or multiples of either will stretch out or curl up on the cowhide in front of the stove. candles will be lit in the window, It's a Wonderful Life will, at some point, come on the public television station. as my babes are chattering gayly about what the morning might bring, I will feel a swell of perfection, of peace, of knowing it was all worth it. I will feel solidarity with my sow and her litter, my Jersey and her calf, both who are also tucked into a warm barn full of fresh straw bedding, one of which is gently ruminating as the mice scuttle around, hunting stray morsels for their own families.

after the fighting and the insisting and the anticipation, everyone will tuck in, finally. my husband stunningly beautiful and rightly exhausted wife will come down the stairs with the final wrapped numbers and strategically place them around the tree. I'll silently pour our finest bourbon, turn on the record player ever-so-softly, and we'll watch the snow fall out the window as the fire crackles. each of us will sigh deeply. we are both relieved it's almost over, but still glad it's not...quite, yet. we don't need to speak. we sip quietly, until one of us lets out an introspective laugh. we'll share in the reflection, chuckle together, and feel the peace of peace, the peace the bible and the christmas cards and the fucking NYT bestsellers and hogwash gurus talk about. as we get up to turn off the music, to turn in for the night, he will pull me I will pull her into an embrace. as usual, we'll know what the other one is feeling. she'll fall into me and heave a breath into my neck, and I'll squeeze her a little harder. some part of that sigh is the mutual satisfaction that all of the frantic clawing and gnashing and wanting and toiling and even some of the very creatures of our past who were so fucking determined to undermine us, or so it seemed at the time, are just that -- a thing of the past. maybe, or maybe not, this will trigger me to remember christmases like this one, and the one prior, and the one before that. maybe I will smile, wishing I could telegram 26-year-old maureen alone in the cold house on the windy prairie where nothing, absolutely nothing, belonged to her and say "seasons greetings, it's all worth it goddamnit. trust me on this," as I press my body into another woman's, as familiar as my own, for one of the longest nights of the year.

and whatever whatever whatever. It's coming. I will have that, and so much more. those kids and that man will love me so . I will love that woman and those children so fucking much, in every way I can't even imagine, for all of the right reasons, and finally FINALLY FUCKING FINALLY, for the first time in my life: I will be home for Christmas.

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tipsycad147 · 5 years

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How to Make Incense

by Rosalee de la Forêt

A flame leaps, coals burn Intentions are set as smoke dances towards the sky!

Burning aromatic herbs and resins is a tradition found all over the world through countless generations. Besides simply smelling good, incense is used in ceremonies, for healing, and for cleansing an area. I didn’t grow up in a culture or family that used incense, but I began burning incense when I was a teenager. It was a part of the belly dancing tradition I was a part of as well as a common presence in the East-West bookstores I loved to wander in. Back then, I loved the incense Nag Champa. Smelling it now instantly brings me back to that era. As years went on, I graduated to more sophisticated resins like copal and frankincense. Later in life, when I attended wilderness schools, I started using various sages as they were commonly burned within those circles.

Botanicals for Incense

In recent years, I’ve become increasingly aware of the challenges these popular incense botanicals are facing. Drought, loss of habitat, and increased demand has devastated many of these plant populations. Speaking of the pressures the frankincense tree is facing today, Ahmed Ibrahim Awale, president of the Somaliland Biodiversity Foundation, said in an interview, ”Frankincense has been harvested in a sustainable manner for [many] years but the rise in the global demand has completely changed it.”

Copal, frankincense, myrrh, and sandalwood are popular both for their rich aromatics but also because they’ve been mass marketed, somehow giving the impression that these are the only, or even the best, herbs and resins to use. This simply isn’t true! Chances are there are many common plants that grow near you that are rich in aromatics and are perfect for incense! Using aromatic plants that you have a direct relationship with is an empowering way to enjoy the gifts of plants in your life. It also gives you the opportunity to participate in each step of the process, ensuring your incense botanicals were harvested sustainably and with good intentions.

Would you like to learn how to make incense? Instead of yet another article focusing on endangered and mass-marketed incense botanicals, the recipes below will show you how to make incense using commonly found or grown botanicals in temperate regions. how to make incense The Basics of How to Make Incense Cone incense is made up of three materials:

Aromatic botanical powders

A botanical gum, demulcent, or other substance to glue the powders together Water For the following recipes, I used a variety of different aromatic botanical powders combined with marshmallow root powder (Althaea officinalis) as the substance to hold it all together.

Garden Incense Inspired by plants that I grew and harvested in my garden, this blend combines the sweet smell of lemongrass with the spicy aromatics of rosemary and lavender.

What you’ll need…

1 tablespoon lemongrass powder (Cymbopogon citratus)

1 1/2 teaspoons rosemary powder (Salvia rosmarinus)

1 1/2 teaspoons lavender powder (Lavandula angustifolia)

1 teaspoon marshmallow root powder (Althaea officinalis)

Approximately 1 tablespoon water

Need organic herbs or supplies? Get them here! Stir the powders together until they are completely combined. how to make incense how to make incense Slowly add water to the mix. I add about 5 to 10 drops at a time. After each addition of water, use the back of a spoon to mash the powder and the water together. This really isn’t so much of stirring, more pressing the two substances together. At first the mixture will look crumbly and eventually those crumbles will begin to mash together to form a dough. You’re looking for a fairly dry dough. Just wet enough that it holds together without crumbling apart but definitely not runny. how to make incense how to make incense

Once the mixture can hold together, pull off a small pinch and form it into a cone. I’ve found that taller, skinnier cones burn best. how to make incense Set the cones on a flat surface and allow them to dry for about 5 to 7 days. I live in a very arid climate and it still takes that long before they burn well. If your cones aren’t burning well and they are still fairly fresh, then give them a few more days to dry.

To burn a cone, light the tip with a flame. Allow it to burn slightly until the tip burns red and it’s smoking freely. Place your burning cone on a fire-safe surface.

Yield: 10-12 small cones how to make incense

Want some more ideas? Here are a couple more recipes for you to try out and learn how to make incense.

Incense recipes are very forgiving; as long as you know the plant is safe, experiment and see what meaningful and local-to-you blends you can create.

Tree Incense

2 teaspoons cedar needle powder (Thuja plicata)

2 teaspoons Douglas-fir needle powder (Pseudotsuga menziesii)

1 teaspoon juniper berry powder (Juniperus communis)

1 teaspoon marshmallow root powder (Althaea officinalis)

Aromatic Shrub

Incense 2 teaspoons rosemary powder (Salvia rosmarinus)

1 teaspoon juniper berry powder (Juniperus communis)

Goddess Bless! GrannyMoon

★☽✪☾★ http://GoddessSchool.com https://twitter.com/GrannyMooninVA https://grannymoon.wordpress.com/

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jacksonwangismybias · 7 years

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Easter Bunny

Word count: 1,564

Genre: fluff

Description: You are JYP’s first black female idol and you are doing a collab stage with Got7 and a certain foreigner has a crush on you.

Request: HI, I was wondering if your request box was open, I was hoping if you could do a got7 scenario with Jackson when you’re JYP’s first black female Kpop idol of a girl group and his bias. Our two groups do a collaboration stage and instantly hit it off. The reader also doesn’t fir the natural Korean status as she’s really thick and curvy, but she’s also short like 5′2-5′3. Plus she’s like the main dancer/rapper of the group, thank you! I hope it’s not too much.

A/N: I was gonna add a gif but tumblr is not complying *cries* Also, sorry it took me so long @themelaninlife. I’ve been trying to balance school and housework and this blog and i’ve put this off for too long and I sincerely apologize :’(

"Hey Y/N sweetie, how's Korea treating you? Are your members from Blue Skies treating you well?" Your mom asked with a choppy voice. It had been a few months since you had last spoken to your mom and to say you were homesick would be an understatement. Living in Korea was fun the first few years as you got to learn more about the culture and the country and the food, but ever since you debuted you slowly but surely became more and more homesick. When back in the States, you could talk to your mom everyday for hours on end; but now, you talked to your mom once every few months. And it didn't help that your label mates Got7 got to go to America twice this year while you were stuck promoting in Korea, China, and Japan. Every time they came back from America they told you how great the food was and Mark tells you how great a home-cooked meal is after months of not having one.

You were jealous to say the least but you weren't worried, you knew one day you would get to go back home and tour in America with Blue Skies. One day, you would get to step into the home you grew up in and eat all the chicken and collard greens, biscuits, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, corn~ Lord knows you would have a feast! "Hi mama, Korea's fine and my members take good care of me here. How are you and dad?" You ask tearing up. It'd been so long since you last talked to your mom. "Oh don't worry about us over here, we're doing just fine as long as our baby girl is alright. Is anything special happening with your group soon or are you still promoting your last album?" Mama asked. "Actually mama it's both! Big Man Park wants us to do a collaboration stage in a couple weeks with another group from our label. I wish I could tell you more but you'll just have to wait and see like everyone else haha!" You exclaimed. This would be Blue Skies' first collaborative stage with label mates and you were over ecstatic about it! "Oh that's great!" Mama said, you could hear her smiling and it made you tear up even more. "I'm so happy for you! Anyway, your little cousin King is begging me to make him some pb&j so we'll talk later okay? I love you." "Okay mama, I love you too. Bye." Talking to your mom always made you happy, especially when she was the first person you talked to in the morning. "How's your family doing?" Your roommate and the group's 2nd oldest member, Sunji (선지) asked sitting up in her bed. Sunji was your best friend and the only other person in your group that spoke English fluently, she's from the U.K. She's the only one who understands how homesick you are and how important family is to you. "Everyone's good, I was just catching up with my mom and letting her know what's going on here. Anyway, enough small talk, we have to get ready for our first rehearsal with Got7! Come on!" You said dragging her out of the room by her arm. "Hit the showers Sunji I'll wake the rest of the girls and make breakfast." "Actually, you girls won't have time to eat breakfast," your manager said. "Park Jinyoung-PDnim added a morning rehearsal from 6am-8am with Got7 so your schedules have been pushed back 2 hours. Meaning that every transition today has to be quick and your night rehearsal has been extended to 10pm. You'll barely have enough time to get dressed." He said walking away. Okay, now you had to think fast. You ran and found the toy megaphone and made an announcement: "Good morning Blue Skies! I hope you slept well last night because we have a very busy schedule ahead of us today," you said walking in and out of bedrooms. "Instead of our schedules starting at 8am, they're starting at 6am, which is only 30 minutes from now. Please freshen up and get dressed for an early morning rehearsal with Got7! We need to be in the car on our way to the studio by 6:45!" You heard a series of groans and the squeaking of beds and floorboards as you ran to your room to get dressed. Today was gonna be a long day.

Upon arriving at the practice room, all of Got7 stopped and stared at the door as you and the rest of Blue Skies entered. "One two three, we are... Blue Skies!" You and your members introduced yourselves. "Sorry for being late. Let's get started shall we." Got7 looked at you with weird expressions. "Is something wrong?" You asked. "You don't have to introduce yourselves we already know who you are. Put your things down and pick someone to dance with. That'll be your dance partner for the collab stage." Jaebum said annoyedly. You were sitting your things down on the far side of the room when you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Do you want to be my dance partner?" You heard BamBam ask. You looked over his shoulder and saw Jackson staring at you. You were about to object but then you saw Suyoon walk over to Jackson and start talking to him. "Uh, sure," you said to BamBam, taking his hand and walking over to the rest of the group. As you and BamBam started going over what you learned last week you couldn't help but feel unusually small next to him. You looked around the room and everyone was tall and skinny except for you. You felt so small next to BamBam, you'd feel more comfortable if you were with someone shorter like Jackson. All throughout rehearsal you kept messing up the moves. When you were supposed to go left you went right, when you were supposed to spin you dipped, when you were supposed to be paying attention to BamBam you were paying attention to Jackson. Your stomach was feeling weird and you didn't know if you had to pee or if you were hungry or if there were butterflies flying around in there. Jaebum called a break and you grabbed Sunji and ran to the bathroom. "Sunji I can't focus and my stomach feels weird inside what's wrong with me?" You asked desperately trying to understand what was going on with you. "Why are you asking me? I don't have anything to do with you messing up," Sunji offered in the sweetest voice possible. "What? Because you told me if you hadn't been scouted you'd be a doctor by now. So doctor Sunji, diagnose me. Why do i keep messing up? Why does my stomach feel weird?" Sunji took a deep breath and said, "Ask Suyoon to switch partners with you." You looked at her with a very confused expression. What did Suyoon have to do with this? "Okay, it's obvious that you want Jackson to be your partner for the stage so ask Suyoon to switch partners with you so you can dance with Jackson and Suyoon can dance with BamBam. That way everyone's happy." She reiterated in English. It took you a while to process what she said so when you did you hugged her and ran out of the bathroom. Upon running out of the bathroom you ran into someone with a very lean figure toppling him and the water bottles he was holding to the ground. "Oh, I'm so sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." You apologized quickly helping the person pick up the water bottles. "It's okay don't sweat it," they said in English. You looked up to see Jackson and shyly handed the water bottle back to him. "Um actually I was coming to bring one of these to you." He said handing you a water bottle. Slowly you grabbed it and looked towards the bathroom door to see Sunji peeking through the door giving you a thumbs up. "Thank you Jackson." You kindly accepted the water bottle. "Hey um, would you mind switching partners so that we could dance together? I'm sure Suyoon and BamBam wouldn't mind partnering with each other. It's just that BamBam is a giant compared to me and if I'm being honest, the chemistry just isn't there." "Oh, you think there's chemistry between us too?!" Jackson asked excitedly grinning from ear to ear. "I mean, yeah we can dance together." You chuckled and patted Wang Puppy on the head, "Well, all rappers have chemistry, there's just something more that draws me to you." You say confidently. "Also, a little birdie told me that your favorite snack is chocolate, am I right?" Jackson smirked and ran his hand through his hair, "You are right actually! And my favorite kind of chocolate to eat are the Easter bunny chocolates because they're curvy... if you know what I'm saying," he said seductively winking at you and closing the space between you. Just then Jaebum walked around the corner and shouted for you two and Sunji to come back to practice. You went back to the room feeling 100 times more comfortable than before and it showed in your dancing. You'd be ready for this collab stage in no time!

#got7 scenarios #jackson wang scenarios #jackson wang fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #requested #I couldn't think of a good title either so #just bare with me #i'm getting the hang of this

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dwarva · 7 years

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Stardew Valley 30 Day Challenge Day 27. Winterstar Feast

Despite offering nothing but biting cold and icy wind for nearly a week, the snow returned in droves or the Feast of the Winter Star. Right on schedule, the night before Gus and Lewis set up all the tables, a flurry of the white stuff cascaded from the sky and settled itself right across the town. So, as it was, when the pair got up the morning of the Feast they had to spend nearly an hour clearing away small piles of snow from the areas where the tables would sit. Lewis muttered under his breath the entire time that they'd never manage it all.

Sam and Abigail had spent most of the previous evening putting new lights and candy canes dotted around the town square while Pierre and Caroline were happily decorating a small fir tree that Rae had donated from the farm. When they'd awoken to a blanket of white on the town, the morning had been spent shaking candy canes free of the frost and making sure none of the light bulbs had blown in the wet.

So, when Rae and Harvey ploughed through the snow on the morning of the Feast, they barely recognised the town they'd left the night before. It felt like walking into a Winter Star card as gentle carols filled the air and steaming hot chocolate was dispensed from a huge vat by the glowing tree. Wreathes were wrapped around the lampposts and glittered with soft fairy lights of a cascade of greens and reds. In the very centre of the town stood a huge tree that had also been given by Rae. She'd spent nearly an entire morning whacking away at it with her axe before Lewis and Willy had caught it and dragged it to town to serve as the centrepiece for their day.

Lewis and Marnie stood by the tree which also wore a blanket of twinkling lights and was peppered with decorations that Harvey assumed Jas and Vincent had made with Penny. The lights clung to the white speckled branches like tiny coloured snowflakes and for a moment he imagined what a Winter Star tree might look like in their own home in the future, surrounded by brightly coloured packages with little kids tearing into them wildly...

"I love that Pelican Town takes the Feast of the Winter Star so seriously!" Rae grinned as she placed her secret gift by the pile of wrapped and ribboned boxes underneath the tree. "It's lost its meaning in the city now. People just use the day as an excuse to drink right through the afternoon on their day off work." She wrinkled her nose up as Marnie smiled at her.

Harvey placed his rather modest gift down among the parcels. Although the gift giving was intended to be a surprise, Rae had let slip to Harvey that her recipient was Leah and that she'd bought her some new canvases and oil paints. Although she'd spent a long time choosing it she'd spent every day since fretting that she'd picked the wrong thing. Even now it was going under the tree she looked at Harvey with a mixed expression of anticipation and nerves.

"I hope it's OK..." she mumbled as she positioned it with care beneath the other gifts.

Harvey smiled and put his own green wrapped box beside Rae's. "She'll love it Rae..."

She peered over to the tables of food where most of the families were now starting to get comfortable in groups. There were no free tables but a couple of chairs by Shane and Clint still sat vacant. She gestured over to the table. "Shall we join them?"

Harvey felt a pinch of unease in his stomach at the prospect of sitting with Shane. They hadn't spoken since the night their friend seen them in the Saloon and scarpered off but he knew they'd have to break the ice sooner or later. He nodded and they moved to the table by the tree that was laden with plates of piled food.

As they approached Shane gave them a much easier smile than Harvey had been anticipating. Clint, on the other hand, was staring wistfully over at Emily and didn't even notice them sit down.

"How are you guys doing?" Shane asked, his fingers fidgeting with the ladle on the bowl of mashed potato that sat in front of him. He was trying desperately to look them in the eye but his eyes darted round the gathering nervously.

"OK. Cold though..." The other man nodded and Harvey realised this was going to be an exceptionally long meal if the three of them would only extend their conversation to small talk. "How have you been?"

Shane's eyes flitted over to Clint who still was paying no attention to the conversation being held right next to him. That filled Shane with the courage he needed to be honest. "Yeah I'm OK. I've been for my appointment with the counsellor you recommended. She's pretty good. I've been talking about stuff that I didn't even realise was bothering me..."

"That's great Shane," Rae leaned in earnestly, her loose hair framing her face. "Are you going to go back?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Once a week and we'll see where things are in a few months." He pushed the ladle away as he stared up hard at Harvey, his mind clearly swimming with a lot of possibilities. "Thanks Doc. For making me do it, you know?"

"You're the one that's doing the hard part Shane. We just gave you a nudge." Harvey pushed his glasses up his nose and sat back in his chair.

He nodded and went to reply just as Lewis spoke loudly from his table on the other side of the tree.

"Welcome everyone to the Feast of the Winter Star. Thank you to Gus for making us all of this delicious food and to everyone who's helped decorate the town square to make it as festive as it looks." Pam thanked him loudly at this although, to Harvey's knowledge, she hadn't actually taken part in any of the decorating. Lewis gave her a mollifying nod. "Let's all enjoy our feast and, once we're done, we can get on with the gift exchange!"

At that, the sound of utensils clanging and bowls being scraped echoed in the air as everyone began to pile food onto their plates. Harvey scooped potato and turkey onto his plate as Rae playfully elbowed him to reach the wine on the middle of the table. Shane held up his hand as Rae leaned into his glass, her face spreading with crimson.

"Oh. Shane. Sorry.." she whispered uncomfortably as he grabbed a jug of juice and poured it into his glass.

He shook his head. "Don't worry. It's just easier right now not to have any."

Harvey filled Rae's plate as well as his own, leaving off the beans he knew she didn't like but heaping on the candied yams he remembered were her favourite. As they all sat down, plates full of food and anticipation growing, Clint finally looked across to the pair. "Oh, hi guys. I didn't see you sit down there!"

The others shared a laugh as he went back to looking across to Emily's table, his own plate still cold and empty.

---

The meal was delicious; the best Gus had ever made, mused Harvey. As he sat back in his chair, the belt on his pants tugging uncomfortably at his stomach, he took a deep sigh and wondered absently why they always chose to sit outside to eat in the frigid biting wind when they could all be huddled inside the Saloon in the warmth. Just as he was about to open his mouth and verbalise his thoughts, Shane let out a massive belch which made Jas' giggle echo from across the square.

"Oh that was sooo good....." Rae moaned as she sat back in her chair, her head thrown back with pleasure. Harvey had to bite back a grin at the memory it conjured.

Probably best not to get thinking about that sort of thing right in the middle of the Feast, he reminded himself. Although it did make him already restless for the afternoon to end so they could head back to the farmhouse and spend some time alone. He hoped it would be the first of many Feasts where they'd waddle back to the farm together and snuggle up under a blanket with hot tea.

He twisted himself round in his chair as Lewis cleared his throat and announced it was time for the gift exchange. A chorus of cheers came from the children, both of whom had gifts from their families as well as their secret gift. They were the first to rush from their seats and practically slide down in front of the tree which had an entire section dedicated to each of them. The next sound was that of them ripping into their gifts with gusto, the voices of Marnie and Jodi calling at them to take it easy as they rushed over to control the mad unwrapping.

Shane lifted a box from down by his feet that was covered in more folded and torn sticky tape than blue paper and offered it to Harvey. He flushed with embarrassment as he stretched it across the table to him.

"Thanks Doc. For everything. Pretty lucky I got you in this thing huh?" Harvey nodded and pulled away at the tape and paper to reveal a small furry mound. "It's a rabbit foot. Some say it's lucky." Shane looked across and shared a smile with Rae. "Though I think you're both pretty lucky already."

Rae's expression didn't change at his admission and Harvey realised she'd come to the same conclusion as she had. There was no bitterness in Shane's voice. A sad acceptance as his shoulders slouched a little lower than he'd have liked maybe, but as Rae pushed her plate from in front of herself and reached over for Shane's lingering hand he softened.

"Well I think I speak for both of us when we say we feel like the lucky ones to have you as our friend Shane."

The man flushed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "So corny Rae..."

Rae grinned, stood up and wiped her hands on the napkin from her lap. She headed back to the tree and Harvey watched as she approached Leah and offered her the parcel. The artist ripped the paper off eagerly and, upon seeing its contents, threw her arms around Rae and engulfed her in a bear hug, the canvases pressing against both their bodies. Harvey sat in his chair as everyone began to stand up and remove their gifts from underneath the tree. Rae was too busy chatting to Leah about the paints she'd found to notice he was still sitting firmly in his seat.

A bustle began as everyone looked for their gifts recipient and tore into their presents. Harvey looked around and couldn't help but grin at the squeals and excitement that everyone shared as they opened gifts that were meaningful and well chosen. If there was one benefit to living in a tiny town it was that there were no strangers; the Feast was proof of that. To live in a town where you could call most of the people in it your friend was a rarity that he was only now starting to appreciate.

Vincent ran over, circling their table with a small wooden airplane that he was excited to share with Harvey. The doctor kneeled down to be close to him, explaining what all the parts of the plane were called. Vincent squealed with excitement and ran back to Jodi and Sam to relay all his new information.

Jas came to sit on Shane's lap and started putting her brand new purple hair bows in Shane's hair which he accepted readily. The pair shared a smile as she ran off cackling, leaving his hair adorned with tiny lavender coloured frills.

After a few minutes people started to sit down with their gifts, examining and playing with them and excitedly showing them to their dinner companions. Harvey watched as Rae looked around with anticipation, her face growing nervous as no one approached her with a gift. Before she became too uncomfortable Harvey rose from his chair and fetched the last small green parcel that lay underneath the tree.

Rae stared at him with a look of wonder as he walked towards her and held out the box.

"You got me?" She asked, her eyes twinkling and her mouth open.

"I did."

"Did you have a quiet word with Lewis then?" She giggled, her fingers smoothing over the sage coloured paper and its black velvet ribbon.

"No, actually I got you completely by chance. Obviously, someone knew I really wanted to give you a gift." He wrung his hands gently behind his back as the worry of her not liking her gift suddenly washed over him. He just wanted her to open it now, to see it and give a response about whether he was completely off base with it. He looked down at the still unopened parcel. "Come on then..."

She pushed her finger under the wrapping paper and revealed the small hardwood box inside. She offered him the paper so she could open the box and, as she did, a tinkling melody drifted from inside and filled the air, turning the heads of some of the townspeople towards their exchange.

As she saw what was inside she gasped, her mouth hanging open and eyes brimming with tears. She pulled out the gift and held it up in the light.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered, holding the gemstone up, the sunshine glinting off the smooth surface and dancing around it as she moved the stone. "It's jade."

"It's exactly the same shade as your eyes..."

When he'd found the stone in the sand by the beach he couldn't understand how it had come to be there. He'd asked Elliot if it was his but the writer had given a cryptic answer about finding jewels in unsuspecting places and wandered off. Harvey couldn't believe how exactly it had matched the eyes of his lover and, although he'd considered keeping it himself as a reminder of her when they were apart, when he'd received her name as his gift recipient he couldn't believe his luck and knew the gem had always been intended for her.

Rae's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed her fingers over the polished surface of the gem. "It's so beautiful Harvey. Thank you so much."

The music stopped playing as Rae closed the box and leaned in to Harvey, her free hand around his cheek and mouth covering his own. They kissed deeply, as though it was the first time they'd ever touched one another and Harvey felt his entire body warm at her taste. The world stilled around them as he drank her in and clasped her warm face in his hands. He felt her knees buckle slightly by his and ran his hands down to her waist to support her as their kiss deepened. She tasted of honey and wine and as he breathed her in he suddenly felt drunk at the luck that had brought the pair together.

This time, when they separated, the villagers didn't have the wherewithal to even look away, so caught by the scene of the pairs embrace. The only ones who weren't staring were Jas and Vincent who'd run off to play with their toys.

Harvey flushed as he led Rae back to the table by the elbow. Well, that was definitely one way to confirm their status as a couple, he thought. Shortly after the murmur of conversations begun again as Rae sat down and held the gem firmly in her pocket.

"I think I definitely need that rabbit foot back Doc. You're clearly already the luckiest bastard I know," laughed Shane. He began to shovel forkfuls of pie into his mouth as Harvey stared over at Rae.

Yep. Luckiest bastard in the world.

#stardew harvey #stardewvalleytimidseasons #30daychallengestardewvalley #stardewvalley30daychallenge #stardew valley

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thefastforwardstuff-blog · 7 years

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Now on to the rollicking finale. The final movement is usually fast and furious, showing off the virtuosic prowess of the orchestra. This finale is usually quite light in character — that is, it doesn’t have a great deal of emotional depth. The finale’s much more concerned with having a good time. But wait — there’s more! Very often, this final movement is in rondo form. Yes, this last movement has a substructure of its own.

Music is God and Food is Life. Together they sustained me and opened my eyes.

This year I took a life sabbatical. I had to hit the reset button because my Plate of Life was weighed down with things that weren’t good for my soul. Things that were hiding the God within me. I had forgotten to take care of my mind, body, and spirit. Actually, I had never really taken care of them they way they deserved to be taken care of.

This movement will be brief because there’s too much to share about my year of “My Shirt Doesn’t Fit”. Sorry Dedra

For now, I will share how it got to be that my shirt doesn’t fit and the music that carried me along the way.

For my birthday weekend, I went to The gift was embracing that God speaks to me through song when I’m still and silent. Playing on Repeat: “Man In The Mirror” by Michael Jackson Life Fuel: Collard Greens and Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Two Weddings, One Weekend Playing on Repeat: “Let It Ride” Robert Glasper feat Norah Jones Life Fuel: Green Apple Flavored Popcorn

One Afternoon over lunch, my friend Carmen shared her own experience of opening ones heart and strengthening your faith during a life-changing transition. Her words became the map to guide me on the journey, “Lauren, you are going to have to be comfortable with the company of yourself.” Playing on Repeat: “Bag Lady” by Erykah Badu Life Fuel: Curried Rabbit Empanadas

One of the best parts of this year was learning how to let background conversations, especially when you don’t speak the language, became white noise to give me space to listen. I discovered that in Moscow. I learned to embrace and thanks for it. Playing on Repeat:“Cranes in the Sky” by Solange Knowles Life Fuel: Pistachio, Raspberry, and Green Tea Cake

The day I learned that fear can change the trajectory of lives. The words of my Beachside Guru, Jaime Koss, became clearer. Life is a plate of food, you can either fill it with food that nourishes you. Or, you can fill it with food that weighs you down and smothers. I lay in bed the next day feeling confusion, I decided that either I could be fearful or decide how I will see the world past the fear that drove most; thus, creating my days on Instagram. Playing on Repeat: “Not Afraid” by Eminem Life Fuel: Chobani Pomegranate

When I landed in Brussels, I approached a set of stairs and saw the word “Liberté”. A sign. Playing on Repeat: “I’m Still Standing” by Elton John Life Fuel: Belgian Waffle with hot caramel sauce from Mohammed’s street cart

I cry as a way to express my love, gratitude, and when I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I spent Thanksgiving in Berlin with my dear friend Dominick from graduate school. When you spend Thanksgiving with a room full of strangers, across the pond, you have a new appreciation for what Thanksgiving is truly about. Togetherness with family (by blood or choice), laughter, and joy. The hugs that welcome a stranger into their home (the home was Rosa Caleta), and brings familiarity when we recognize that we all want to be joyous and let the gratitude flow from our veins. I stood in one Berlin’s Christmas Market, and a band started playing a song that caused a German woman standing next to me…to shed tears like I did on that November evening as the sunset in Berlin. Playing on Repeat: “My Way” by Frank Sinatra Life Fuel: Bratwurst with Curry Ketchup and Glühwein AND Thanksgiving Dinner at Rosa Caleta

A Toast to the New Year with my word for 2017 – Intentional. With friends and loved one Sharing the German experience of kaffee und kuchen, and setting the words on fire that we didn’t want to take into the new year. Playing on Repeat: “Golden” by Jill Scott (my big sister) Life Fuel: Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Icing made by SayCheese Sweet Cakes

The emotional breakdown early one Tuesday morning. Playing on Repeat: “In Repair” by John Mayer Life Fuel: Waffle House Waffles

“You have to keep moving and know that it’s already done.” Playing on Repeat: “Bare Necessities” by Baloo from “The Jungle Book” Life Fuel: Nigella Lawson’s Clementine Cake

“Don’t be distracted” said Mr. Luqman. The moment when God’s messenger came as The Container Store delivery man. Playing on Repeat: “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing” by Stevie Wonder Life Fuel: Gesthemene Kentucky Bourbon Fudge made by the Trappist Monks

On Saturday, April 9th, 2016, college classmates (Dion and I) met in a coffee shop with a focus to build a company that will revolutionize women’s mental health. On Sunday, April 9th, 2017, their territory had enlarged with 30 women hearing what they have been up to the past year. It’s been fun, enriching, and growth filled. We are just getting started. Playing on Repeat: “Back Together” by Jill Scott. Life Fuel: Quinoa Salad Cups

In New Mexican desert, I found Georgia O’Keefe. She gets me and I get her. I decided that day that the New Mexican mountains would be my refuge when I need to talk with God and clear my head. As the saying goes…”Not all who wander are lost.” Playing on Repeat: “Touch the Sky” feat. Kanye West Life Fuel: Uncle Robert’s Empanadas

History leapt from the pages when I saw Botacelli, Michelangelo, Gaudi, Medici, Leaning Tower of Pisa, The Coliseum, and threw a coin over my left shoulder. Witnessed humanity. Developed an envy for people that can use words to express their passion. All from a 500 year old apartment building with my friend Christine. Playing on Repeat: “Juicy” by Notorious B.I.G. Life Fuel: It’s just not possible to name one thing. I did have gelato EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

Finding my religion. Finding commonality. Discovering. Growing. Loving myself deeper. Finding places of refuge in my own backyard. We are a part of a Human Family. We are more alike than we are unalike. When you hear someone else’s story, you simply can no longer hate them. Playing on Repeat: “Wide Open Spaces” by The Dixie Chicks Life Fuel: Watermelon Desert from Orange Coffee Bar

I am free. I am full of joy. I am love.

Fourth Movement: My shirt doesn’t fit and I don’t give a damn! Now on to the rollicking finale. The final movement is usually fast and furious, showing off the virtuosic prowess of the orchestra.

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fortheheavenssake · 5 years

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PG MM Anon Interpretation Collection - 18

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

115: Nov 14

MM ANON …… MAD-ISON AV. Re-Sunshine Sucks…… a tabloid too far…… LA thanksgiving? …… homeless shelter thanksgiving?……Royal Family thanksgiving?…… professional lie juggler …… $h!t scared of loosing tax millions …… HMTQ drops in 🤣🤣🤣🤣…… MM drops out…… “ it’s not rocket science Harry dear boy, she’s a s****!!…… “ but I love her” … “Really!!, sit down and watch this” …… “ now!! convinced!!”…… “ ones judgment is sometimes compromised Harry” …… “ But, But ,But …… “No ifs, no Butts. … just act royal

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜 l hope you’re well🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 14/2019 0855 hrs CST, Riddle #115

MAD-ISON AV. Re-Sunshine Sucks

Madison Avenue in NYC is Ad-is on Avenue🤣🤣😂. Every advertising firm, PR Firm etc etc has offices along that avenue . On madam weekend trip to see SW lose to our young Canadian sensation Bianca Andreescu !! Was that not beyond the pale exciting!! Madam’s PR Firm, one of them is SS Sunshine Sachs. Well everything they have done since they came on board, so to speak, seems to backfire, contradict previous information madam has shared in interviews or other PR or news reporting from royal reporters or her “besties” or OS. They basically ‘suck’ at their job. Suck, pardon the horrible pun🤣😂, is really a slang term meaning they are doing a lousy, terrible, job.

MAD-ISON, interesting upper caps and hyphenated. Obviously madam must be mad as in angry 😤 but has she gone mad, as in psychologically?? ISON, last four letters of Archie’s second name Harrison. I do frequently wonder, given the alleged extremely severe narcissistic personality disorder she exhibits, it’s Axis II in the DSM multi axial system of diagnosing mental illness, the actual book is the Diagnostic Statistical Manual. I think the U.K. must have something very similar.It’s the standard by which mental illnesses are diagnosed, it lists the criteria for making a diagnosis. Axis l is the primary mental illness ie depression, Axis ll are the personality disorders, there are more several more levels but that’s all l need to tell you now. Getting to my point, l think at some point she allegedly has diagnoses along some of Axis l and Axis lll, depression, substance abuse, eating disorder. I hope l am not confusing you too much. I worked as a mental health clinician for 20+ years. This leads me to the uppercase MAD, mad is a word often use by laymen, regular not professional mental health workers, to refer to someone with mental illness. Phew, l hope l didn’t confuse you, but you see, l eventually get to my point, but l always think explanation and background information is so important to enable me to put things in context for you all.

a tabloid too far

The tabloids and papers have been following closely yesterday the back and forth one upsmanship, of the PR put out and then BP woukd respond affirming it and than madam didn’t want it she was playing games via SS PR articles. Which one is going to LIFTOFF first. They will release too much information?? More than is meant to? Or is madams PR going to release too much private information.?

LA thanksgiving? …… homeless shelter thanksgiving?……Royal Family thanksgiving?

The Thanksgiving holiday takes place in October in Canada, but in America, it’s very near Christmas, at the end of November. I always wondered why they put two big holidays so close together. It’s a big dinner turkey usually, with dressing, pumpkin pie and a whole table full of options!

So the PR yesterday was back and forth, are the Sussexes spending the holiday in L.A. , then BP PR said yes, Well for some reason which l will get into later, madam does not really want to go to America. So her PR put out the plan that she would spend part of the day, wait for it, deep breaths now🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂, being a fauxmanitarian by helping serve turkey and pumpkin pie at a homeless shelter near Frogmore Cottage. Are there homeless shelters for millionaires and royals? Turkey and pumpkin pie, on a holiday that doesn’t exist in her new home country that she soooo longed to live in. I have to digress, l have friends in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿, one year, one came for a visit over thanksgiving week. My godmother made a huge dinner with my friends here and so my visiting friend could meet them and experience a Canadian Thanksgiving. She had NEVER EVER EVEN HEARD OF PUMPKIN pie or pumpkin muffins, l clearly remember sending her off at the airport with her suitcase loaded with cans of pumpkin purée 🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. So l am not certain about England but l do know one of my other friends was from South London , living in Scotland working offshore, he had never had pumpkin pie either. Anyhow, serving unfamiliar food to the homeless, they need comfort food they are familiar with. MADAM IS WORKING HARD TO AMERICANIZE THE ROYAL FAMILY !!! No disrespect to our American friends, but just imagine the other way around? So so disrespectful of The Monarchy!

professional lie juggler

Madam, and l believe as do many, that her ‘family’ are working in tandem, in this plot allegedly. There is by now such a convoluted web of conflicting information about EVERYTHING about her. Every little detail, missing years, age, relationships, how they met etc etc etc. She is juggling all these stories and using different PR firms who don’t know what story has been printed or told elsewhere or previously it’s just a big mash-up of conflicting information, some call an alleged pattern of lies. The metaphor of a juggler is perfect. A juggler is someone who throws things up in the air and catches them, usually multiple items like balls, or plates etc. Well, picture madam standing astride, as royal ladies do, NOT🤣🤣🤣😂, juggling all her ‘stories’ in the air, ever increasing number of them conflicted, well eventually she started dropping them, it’s too much to juggle and people have been calling out the inconsistencies, some call lies.

$h!t scared of loosing tax millions

Here is where l told you earlier in my interpretation that l would explain. America is one of, l think two countries, maybe a few more, that when it’s citizens live and work out of country, they still have to file American tax forms and pay taxes to the IRS, Internal Revenue Service, the tax part of America’s government. One also would have to pay taxes on any bits received, income of the spouse and their assets come into play as well but we are just dealing with madam here..

Now just think of the $$$£££££€€€€€ she has made merching, wedding gifts, paid appearances and goodness know how else she has earned money. I have postulated this repeatedly in previous riddles. I think she does not want to go back to America because she has not done allegedly any tax forms since she has been in the U.K. and owes millions of back taxes!! Just think, her wedding dress allegedly cost @£250,000!! What would be the tax on that. And on and on. Put all the alleged stories/lies/feauxmegnancy aside, she is allegedly in a world of hurt facing when it comes to the taxes she owes her own country’s government. The country she is trying to turn the royals into, she /her PR call it ‘ modernizing the monarchy’. GIVE ME A BREAK!!!! Our Monarchy has existed over a thousand years and consistently evolves to adapt!

HMTQ drops in 🤣🤣🤣🤣

I read this AGAIN this mornings paper, HMTQ DOESN’T DROP IN REPEATEDLY OR AT ALL, YOU GO TO HER IF INVITED! END OF! FULL STOP!!! HMTQ spends the week at BP, unless attending appearances elsewhere. On weekends, she goes to Windsor Castle, nearer to PP at his ‘farm’. She likes to relax on weekends, just Monday we saw her riding this massive horse, was marvellous to see! So madam ALLEGEDLY has been living at FC with H!!M🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. So after her busy week NIT AT WC BUT AT BP, HMTQ”pops in regularly” on her weekends??? This is outrageous, 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬absolutely outrageous!!! She is the reigning MONARCH, PEOPLE GO TO HER!!

MM drops out

Well the idea has been floated around about madam running fir political office in America. Several articles l have read list the criteria to be able to do that and she does not meet the criteria, l cannot recall the minutiae of it. But sud no more such stories. Her PR is engaged in a game of chess with BP, when her PR cannot play checkers! I know l have said that BRF it it’s so true!!

She also dropped out, according to her PR yesterday but it’s like weather, wait a minute, it could change🤣🤣🤣😂😂. Suddenly she dropped out of the idea of going to L.A. for the holidays, now it’s at “an undisclosed location “ oooo everything is soooo secret.

“ it’s not rocket science Harry dear boy, she’s a s****!!…… “ but I love her” … “Really!!, sit down and watch this” …… “ now!! convinced!!”…

When madam first came on the scene to Harry, she allegedly knew everything about him and she played him like a fiddle, manipulated him seven ways from Sunday. Her backers had been allegedly working on this plan for years! He had blinders on, anyone who has had an experience like this, you’re being manipulated but you think it’s love, l know l had a relationship like that, l was in too deep when l realized. So, DM has a dossier, the Royal reports also. I am certain, why HMTQ called LG to help. They gathered information on madam.

I see this going like this, in very early days, Harry released the statement after madam told him she was frightened etc. The information was gathered and shared with HMTQ, PP,PC

and PW. They had Harry come to a sitting room equipped with a large HD screen. Harry was besotted and they were desperately trying to get him to see through the alleged lies and manipulations but he was besotted.

I do believe the first line here is PP bluntly telling Harry about madams morals or alleged lack thereof.Fire is crackling, remember what time of year this was, Harry staring straight into the fire 🔥, the other most desperately trying to bring him to reality of what had happened. He was unconvinced. They had to shock him back to reality . They played the tape, in HD on a 70 inch screen, madam allegedly performing acts so vile that most of us had never heard of them or the urban dictionary and it’s terms that are now in our brains. Imagine, just imagine, what went through Harry’s mind and emotions, utter and complete shock, devastation feeling filthy for having been with her intimately and feeling incredibly angry at being not only used by her allegedly, but used as an in to attack the a Monarchy. IMAGINE HIS RAGE!! So that was the moment, he vowed to do anything and everything necessary to seek justice for HMTQ, his grandmother. I picture him weeping, his head on her lap, him on the floor in front of her, so broken and used. He was convinced!

“ ones judgment is sometimes compromised Harry”

Reassurances were quick, his family loves and adores him, and wanted to protect him, yet an invasion took place. None of them saw it coming or knew who or what sort of individual they were dealing with and alleged backers who allegedly planned this assault. It’s true, we all have times when our heart rules when our head should, we make mistakes. But it’s different when you are a Prince, grandson if the ruling Monarch and the target point to invasion, allegedly. Oh dear Harry, how l have ached for your pain, and prayed for you. Yes, l believe in you and the role you are playing and continuing to play to seek justice ⚖️ and truth!

“ But, But ,But …… “No ifs, no Butts. … just act royal

Instructions for a reluctant madam! Surely this is not the NATO banquet! Being told to act royal despite her protests and uncertainty. BUTTS, is this a reference to video, photos, or the way madam dresses, keep her butt coverage. Or is it cigarette butts?

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦1035 hrs CST

PHEW that was a tough long riddle MM ANON and now l hear you sent another, keep me on my toes

Thank you so much dear PG….interesting that we are getting the happenings from the beginning……again confirming Harry being trapped….great job!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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116: Nov 14

MM ANON ………… surreptitiously, “lift off”. …… who dares,bins…… 🎄it’s a wonderful strife🎄…… failure is not a-doption……Interstellar McCartney………me invito tactiost…… an act of con-passion…… “ therapy, the humanitarian solution Harry”. …… “serious emotional and mental disorders” …… it’s not her fault, she seems to have been born that way” ……… “ yes!! Section 8. … “ it’s your call!! “.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Things must be pretty serious with two riddles and the content. I am so thankful for my 20+ years working in adult mental health services!

November 14/2019 1035 hrs CST

Riddle #116 Riddle #2 today

surreptitiously, “lift off”

In a riddle previously, today was meant to be LIFTOFF day, the media was meant to have freedom to publish any and all information not yet published or respectfully of HMTQ,to not publish alleged information of a damning vulgar nature allegedly regarding madam. Something changed, to use your words MM ANON, there is a spanner in the mix!

What does surreptitiously mean and what’s it doing here. It simply means doing something in a manner or way that attempts to avoid notice or attention, or done secretively.

So some information may come out, but it will not be splashed on headlines. It will quietly appear. So kids we need to check twitters, instagrams, every social media place, newspapers online etc etc etc. Because there are now serious holes in the boat, and it is taking on water rapidly, so to speak and information will start to ‘leak’!

who dares,bins…

It’s like who blinks first in a no blink contest. Which media dares to first LIFTOFF or publish, bins, goes in the garbage. Or is it meaning to publish garbage. Sorry kinds my brain has been working rapid fire going on four hours here!!! So the editors are now at a crossroads, they had been told today was LIFTOFF! But then delayed, are some going to ignore the delay and publish or after waiting almost two years are they just going to dump the files in the bin, aka the trash can?

🎄it’s a wonderful strife🎄

One of my three favourite Christmas films! Jimmy Stewart, It’s a Wonderful Life! The others being Christmas in Connecticut and White Christmas!! Here we have strife and Christmas trees. Strife is defined as, an angry or bitter disagreement over fundamental issues or conflict So we are then to anticipate a lot of strife, or rather difficulty, tension, over where do they spend Christmas, with which family, or where. Everyone struggles with that, most people alternate Christmases, one year with one side, the next year the other side of the family. Madam only has her mum, which doesn’t appear particularly close at all. Oh HMTQ, l feel your pain Ma’am🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻.

failure is not a-doption

The usual phrase is failure is not an option, here we have a-doption, a for Archie. This must be AMW, the discussion if he should be adopted by the alleged surrogate or other parents. Certainly madam does not appear capable or stable enough to parent an infant or any child really. I am looking at the sentence structure. Failure is NOT adopting, so success would be adoption, am l reading that correctly? I hope you all understand, the first riddle was so long and such a bear and now another, phew! I am reading, rather interpreting this as, the best successful thing, the best life for AMW , is to be adopted formally by the surrogate mother or other parents, allegedly. He is not Harry’s son, and madam is not capable, plus she may, allegedly, have some serious legal issues and allegedly some vey serious mental health issues as l struggled so hard to explain in layman’s terms in riddle #115, riddle#1 of today.

Interstellar McCartney

Yes poor Stella, NOT! Stella McCartney, Paul’s daughter, is a fashion designer, although millions would disagree and don’t like her designs. She has dug herself a right hole so she has. Instagramweeting that madam was wearing her designs on RS on the Siberian balcony. The outcry of rage from the public on social media has been stellar!! PUN INTENDED🤣🤣🤣😂😂. Madam we know merches , all the time. People are outraged at SM talking about fashion and £££££€€€€$$$ when the focus SHOULD have been on the fallen, the veterans , those with injuries etc etc . Talk about being tone deaf!!

me invito tactiost

One is encouraged to take things gently, with tact and a calm manner. I marvel at this, after all they have been attacked with, the chaos and turmoil of the last few years, the absolute compassion they have for madam has moved me to tears. Herein lies the difference between good and evil. HMTQ is chosen and anointed by Holy water from the river Jordan upon Coronation and is the head of the a church if England. The Christian compassion they appear to be taking towards dealing with madam is truly God’s Hands at work. Taking a gentle, encouraging, tactful way to move forward.

an act of con-passion

Normally it’s an act of compassion, here MM ANON has written con-passion. We have discussed the whole origin of the word con, confidence game. You gain someone’s trust and then your fleece them for everything they have, money etc. This is madams fauxmanitarian PR about her serving turkey and pumpkin pie, that’s what it said in the newspaper, that was the menu. Serving it at a homeless shelter near FC. Spending part of Thanksgiving day there. As in riddle one, it’s not a holiday in England etc etc, please read riddle #115 #1 of today’s two, l hope there’s not more than two🤣🤣😫😫😫😫 my hands are killing me! Her PR putting this out is just more fluff and drivel, alleged con, lies etc.allegedly.

“ therapy, the humanitarian solution Harry”. “serious emotional and mental disorders” …… it’s not her fault, she seems to have been born that way” ……… “ yes!! Section 8. … “ it’s your call!! “.

In Canada each province has a Mental Health Act, which outlines in great detail protocols on psychiatric hospitalization and treatment. The most common is involuntary status, or a 72 hour hold. A GP can form someone, which means they fill out a specific form for GP’s to mandate the individual be examined by a psychiatrist, or a family member can go to the magistrate and get the paperwork. It’s a lot to make sure the correct assessment, treatment etc is provided.

In the U.K., Section 8 defines the authority of the guardian, as empowered under Section 7 of the Act. These are: being able to require the patient to live at a specified place. being able to require the patient to attend places for treatment, occupation, training or education.

Here we have an intense conversation with all the same individuals l described in the earlier riddle when Harry was shown the video. They are discussing madams mental health issues very very compassionately. Saying she was born this way , needs help, therapy. They are just trying to sort out what’s best to help her. As her husband, under the Act, he is her husband/guardian and has authority to compel certain things regarding her mental health status. This is sounding extreme serious hospitalization. However, l can tell you this, people with PD, personality disorders , don’t do well with long term hospitalization. They learn about the staff and manipulated them, it’s called staff splitting or simply splitting. They can cause an unbelievable amount of chaos and they enjoy that. Best is hospitalization for crisis only and then long term therapy. I am talking years of therapy and THATS ONLY IF THEY HAVE INSIGHT AND AGREE TO IT! Otherwise it’s just a game and someone else they can mess with.

Very serious discussion indeed, and at the end if the day, it’s Harry’s decision, or your call,as stated in the riddle. I wonder too if this conversation also included legal attendance and a psychiatrist as well. Folks this is no laughing matter. This is a seriously disturbed individual who should never have been able to get in. Evil wow that’s very scary.

Might l say, the Christian, compassionate approach towards helping madam get help and treatment is a marvel. But it’s not really, because this is exactly who HMTQ is! A strong, loving, intelligent, compassionate woman of faith. God bless you Ma’am, l am so deeply moved.

November 14/2019 1150 hrs CST

Thank you dear PG..two riddles back to back and you kept going! We so appreciate this, and your loyalty to HM to get this out there! Thank you so very much! We definitely want her to be mentally stabilized…..legal case pending, we want justice to treat her “fairly”…….🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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117: Nov 17

MM anon .......... “wash spin repeat”......... no hole barred🤣🤣🤣......... reflect,deflect,infect...... DM is armed and dangerous...... court jester 🎭......... the light is Fading...... nice hypocrisy you’re wearing...... hunger-Ian...... GCHQ on the QT......... I’m not a row boat...... “they will unleash the dossier from hell”...... complete disclosure......... in case of emergency, pull handle. ...... sorry you’re out of time......... 🎼 …”rescue me”…🎼.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 15/2019, 1620 hrs CST, Riddle #117

“wash spin repeat”

The shampoo cycle, they print that on the bottle so you use more and subsequently have to repurchase it more often, it’s a OR instructional ploy! Well we have seen that in spades this week. Madams PR puts out something BP confirms it, she panics and than her PR changes and BP PR responds in kind. It’s absolutely continued BRILLIANT strategy by the BRF and LG!

no hole barred🤣🤣🤣

Well it’s usually no HOLDS barred. For madam, I am thinking yachting, videos etc, any and all holes were on offer for the right price. I am sorry this is so offensive, but it will become far more descriptive and disgusting in court!

reflect,deflect,infect

Yep PR tactics, deny, deny, deny. When that fails you reflect it to something else like PA, deflect, deny, blame someone else and the results are complete infection. It has become known as the Markle effect or you have been Markled ! She wanted fame, well she now has her name in everyday vernacular!!

DM is armed and dangerous

Armed and dangerous, that usually is some criminal on the loose that police are looking for. Here we have DM a and d. Again to repeat myself, they have sat on this massive dossier on madam for two years give or take. She had the chutzpah to sue them, she has unleashed the hounds not on them but ON HERSELF!! Every bit of that dossier will be at play in court and the media likely. Oh this is getting really interesting now. She is bloody corned now, in 12by 6 protective custody. She is still playing PR games. William met with a main backer. She should be afraid, not spending time on PR!!!

court jester 🎭

Madam has fancied herself a serious actress. The entire theatre world gasped when madam was made patron of the British theatre, having never acted on stage professionally. Another master stroke by HMTQ/LG. She is certainly no actress, she is laughed at. When she appears in court she will be laughed at by the public for causing her own undoing for one, the public have many other reasons . Historically a court jester is someone whose clever jokes and stories has had the role of entertaining the Monarch at court, not legal court, but the court that was held when the monarch and all the courtiers gathered daily to spend time.

the light is Fading

Lighthouses help ships navigate coastlines in the dark. Nightlights help little ones and some adults either get to sleep or help find their way at night.The light is oft referred to in spiritual terms. Well it can be hope, the saying it’s always darkest before the dawn, meaning there is hope in the light of day. Her light is fading, Fading so fast that MM ANON uppercase the F.she truly is fighting a very losing battle, she really is cornered and it’s all by her own doing/life choices.

nice hypocrisy you’re wearing hunger-Ian

There has been continued fall- out regarding the Stella M coat madam wired on RS to merch. SM was pounded by the public on social media for posting the merching when the day was ,want to be fir the fallen. Today some investigating report the coat made in Hungary at extremely low wages and by people desperately trying to eke out a living. Not exact funds but £15 wages, £50 material coat price around £1500. Quite the markup. This is going to have major repercussions for SM brand! Another person feeling the MArkle effect!

GCHQ on the QT

Prince William, we know awhile back spent a week with MI5. It sounds like these visits have continued and he is directly involved with how all things are progressing. This must have been an extraordinary meeting between HRS and himself. No holds barred. I am extremely confident that he told her he knew EXACTLY what she and the other backers were up to, they have proof and very likely they have quite the information on BC related to JE in building a defence for PA! Oh l wish l could have been a fly on the wall! I know l say that every day but it’s true every day!

I’m not a row boat

Rowboats, often l think of the Titanic or other historical ships that have had horrific events happen, the people that get in the life boat/row boats basically, are the ones that survive. Is madam wanting Harry to be her rowboat/lifeboat? Who is saying this to her while her ship is rapidly sinking and she needs a row boat to rescue her. Perhaps it’s MA or a backer. But l don’t think anything an undo the things that she has chosen to do. Not can anything be done to undo the havoc she has wrought!

“they will unleash the dossier from hell”complete disclosure

Madam signed her own end so to speak, by filing suit against the DM. In court process there is discovery, where evidence is shared. They, the DM, have been sitting on this million £ dossier since before the wedding. All of it, every single bit of filth, coercion, lies, financial issues etc will be revealed in complete disclosure. She had no idea what she was going to unleash when she filed her lawsuit against MOS/DM! I can hardly wait! I hope they air PA interview on the CBC!

in case of emergency, pull handle

You see this on fire alarms 🚨 in various places. Well ,Adam is in the emergency if all emergencies, does she have handy handles left to pull? This diary, shows alleged coercion against the BRF, but what else is in there regarding her backers???

sorry you’re out of time

Madam perhaps has limited phone calls or visitors? As in custodial situations. I am guessing she was on the phone with MA, seeking rescue, or a backer? The custodial agent telling her, phones/visitor time limit is up, she must end the call.

🎼 …”rescue me”…🎼

Great song, rescue me, take me in your arms and rescue me! I am certain madam is pleading for rescue from MA! Or anybody by now. Given her 12 by 6 containment, she has little to do but think. And hope her backers will help her and rescue her🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂. She means nothing, a pawn. This supposed diary might be a worry to backers. Look at what happened with JE, Hence why madam is likely in protective custody for her own safety!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

November 15/2019, 1720 hrs CST

Fascinating! Thank you dear PG, I know you have a pounding headache and because of your loyalty you came through for us and did two! Thank you, we so appreciate it!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜

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118: Nov 15

MM ANON ……Ventura Highway …… “ yes, let’s go!!”…… GCHQ, on the QT…… W knows EVERYTHING!!…… PR pops in”🤣🤣……… “ one pops in , Philip”…… archificial pops out, when?……… “ bit of a soft interview “…… tighten security, NOW!!…… “ this ones out the bag , old thing”…… “ I’m looking forward to it Philip, all the little ones”…… “yes , one is a tad hurt”…… A good appointment.…… “ right up Her street”. …… 🎼give yourself a very🎄merry Christmas🎼…… “ Little ones?the service is too long,Philip”.

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

November 15/2019 1725 hrs CST

Riddle#118 and #2 today

MM ANON is this two riddles a day thing permanent? It’s taking me hours, just putting that out there! Guys you have no idea how much l put into this and l am having a bad headache today! I will continue my best efforts out if loyalty to HMTQ

Ventura Highway

Ventura Freeway is a major highway in San Francisco, or runs through it California, America. Also. Ventura Boulevard. No Ventura highway other than a song by America, coincidence? Anyhow the lyrics are all about sunshine, drinking at night, change your name, make up a new self etc. Sounds a bit like madam. Nobody knows much for certain even age, where Doria was etc etc etc.

Ventura Boulevard is like the Malecon. All sorts of shops, people rollerblading, every type of person great for people watching in the sunshine. Also a place where you can get anything and everything!

“ yes, let’s go!!”

Madam wanting to go to California?! I am not certain who is speaking this. Wanting to escape back home but the IRS awaits.

Or is William telling Catherine about California and she would like to go there.

GCHQ, on the QT…… W knows EVERYTHING!!

This was partly in the first riddle, as l proposed here it’s in the second part of clue clue. Of course William knows everything. We have seen the clue leave it to William several times . We know he spent a week at MI5 some time ago and now again at GCHQ but on the QT meaning quiet hush hush definitely not appear on the CC. He was well equipped to meet and deal with HRC!! WHAT A KING HE WILL MAKE!!

PR pops in”🤣🤣……… “ one pops in , Philip” archificial pops out, when?

HMTQ and PP, once again by the fireside, sharing their precious time together, talking over life’s issues. HMTQ, nice cocktail 🍸 in hand, adjusts the volume on the 📺. They are talking about madams OR stating HMTQ “pops in regularly” at FC to see madam and archificual🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. They are having a laugh. PR pops in?🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂They don’t live at FC , never have, the opulent is enjoying the fire and giggling! Oh how l can see it, years of hours together, talking every possible thing, memories of life experiences, they finish one another’s sentences, a long life together well lived and well loved! Joking about the pop sound when madam was fauxmegnant. Joking about just when does archficial pop out when a HRC/EDG or any of her PR claim visits madam and amw. Just , cannot make this stuff up! OH YES YOU CSN SBD MADAM DIES, HER OR DOES,😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣

tighten security, NOW!!

After William met with HRC, he immediately gave this order. Not only General security around the family but around madam who is contained for her own safety, that’s my interpretation! Whatever took place in that conversation alarmed William so, that this order was given!

“ this ones out the bag , old thing”…… “ I’m looking forward to it Philip, all the little ones”…… “yes , one is a tad hurt”

We are back at the fireplace, with HMTQ and PP. They have switch to the music now, soft in the background, refreshed their cocktails. PP is saying something was secret is out if the bag. The phrase letting the cat out of the bag means something fierce that was contained is now out there. Is this regarding PA interview set to air Saturday night?

HMTQ brings the conversation back to Sandringham, Christmas, lamenting the children that will not be there. This year, l believe William and Catherine will be with the Middletons, they alternate years. Is sounding official that Harry, madam and archficial will not be there either. PR can change in a second . HMTQ sharing her feelings are quite hurt. Oh how l would love to just give her a cuddle, respectfully of course!!! She has feelings just like any other woman, mother, wife, great and great granny!

A good appointment.

William, in charge of liaison with MI5 and direct day to day management. The “leave it to a William” that has appeared in riddles several time was indeed a good appointment!

Might this refer to an actual appointment, as in meeting. Then l think this refers to William’s meeting with HRC! All cards laid on the table!

“ right up Her street”.

The phrase right up someone’s alley means that whatever is being done or needing done, this person is well equipped to do it. So here, MM ANON has given us right up Her street” who is Her? Might this refer to legal team they have? Or madam? The information they have is something she is well versed at doing?

🎼give yourself a very🎄merry Christmas🎼

From my ALL TIME FAVOURITE FILM! MEET ME IN ST LOUIS

The song is actually have yourself a merry little Christmas. This sounds like madam will be alone except for protection officers and will have to give terse her own Christmas.

“ Little ones?the service is too long,Philip”.

Oohhh we are back with HMTQ and OO. Attending Christmas services and talking if the children could come. HMTQ replies just too long service for them to sit still. Just a few more year Ma’am and Sir!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

November 15/2019, 1815 hrs CST

Thank you dear PG! 😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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119:

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119: Nov 18

MM ANON ……”too many eyes, it has to be privejet “…… SS , travel agent ……” NO more interviews “ ……” I’ll, give her away!!” …… 🎼”they had style,and well read,MM gave good head,vogue “🎼……… Aotearoa…… DM litigate big guns…… Subpoena demeanour ……… “ocean view,or the hills princess?”…… “ ones posterior is sore” …… “ I warned you old thing”…… “ Bugger them, tomorrow’s chip paper!!”……… “ I want a monkeeeeey!!🦄🐒

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

💜💜WELCOME BACK💜💜

Riddle #120

November 18/2019 1400 hrs CST

“too many eyes, it has to be privejet “

There was a rumour or report, yesterday, that allegedly madam had been observed flying out of a small airport in Oxfordshire, near the SoHo farmhouse. I tend not to believe that because up until now, MM ANON has given us the clue 12 X 6 , which l interpreted to be a containment of a sort, either ‘cell’ or a psychiatric facility. However, we have had few days with no riddle, so very possible, in this ever changing world, that circumstances have changed.

Notice she types prive jet NOT private jet! Is that a typo or have a meaning? We know for certain by now, everything means something! Prive , French for private. So has someone gone to 🇫🇷 France??? There is a company with this name also, several actually.

These days, after our massive CSIS security breach, when l read 👀 eyes, in these contexts, it immediately makes me think of Five Eyes . For those who don’t know, the Five Eyes are the U.K. , Canada, New Zealand, Australia and America. It’s a security intelligence alliance. There is plenty online should you wish to educate yourselves further. France is not in the Alliance, this very curious to me.

SS , travel agent

SS, we all know by now but lest you don’t, is SUNSHINE SACHS is a ruthless ‘dark arts’ PR firm, who works for madam, not satisfactorily, but also for almost everyone in her orbit, all these odd famous people that have come out of the woodwork offering support. They are also responsible for the dozens of headlines spreading lies. So was SS her travel agent, booking her private trip to France??

” NO more interviews “

After the disastrous interview although Sunday PA, in the daily mail, said he had told HMTQ it had gone quite well.There has been a ton, or several tons of horrible fallout and commentary led by photos of a sweaty man partying away in the papers on Sunday morning. In the interview he denied ever really partying and said due to PTSD of some sort from the Falklands war he was left unable to perspire, until recently when he had found “ methods to us” and he is now able to. WTH?? HMTQ, PA GET HERE NOW, ROYAL EDICT NO MORE INTERVIEWS, SO LET IT BE WRITTEN, SO LET IT BE OBEYED(sorry l borrowed a scene from the film The Ten Commandments there).

” I’ll, give her away!!”

Usually when a woman is given away, it’s at her wedding. Is this PA talking about Princess Beatrice’s upcoming wedding? There are two ways one could read this sentence, however with the comma, they are discussing this and who should do it maybe Fergie? He speaks, notice I’LL , give her away, with double exclamation marks, emphasis on him or I’ll. PA is asserting his fatherly role despite this horrendous scandal. It’s more than a scandal, it’s potentially legal at best, worst case scenario, you know what that is!

”they had style,and well read,MM gave good head,vogue “🎼………

It was Rita Hayworth gave good face, double entendre. Rita Hayworth, in Gilda is a MUST SEE!! She is so amazingly beautiful, takes ones breath away. She went on and married the Aga Khan, later died of Alzheimer’s l believe. Lots of old Hollywood mentioned in that song. Here we have a reference to madams skills🤣🤣🤣😂😂. Vogue is THE magazine! FRENCH VOGUE WOW!!! Has SS managed to get madam on the front cover of a French a vogue! Hence the prive jet???! Wow wow wow!

Aotearoa

Currently Prince Charles and Camilla, she joined him once he completed his time in a India and her chest cold healed. They visited Australia and once again smoothed things over with the High Commissioner’s wife and staff after madams foul language, verbal abuse and overall rude disrespectful treatment whilst they were there.

Charles and Camilla are now in Aotearoa, the Maori, Indigenous dwellers Maori for New Zealand. They will visit the site of the mosque massacre and complete other engagements on their visit.

DM litigate big guns

When they big out the big guns, it’s not always war, big guns are someone who is really excelled at their job ie Beckham/football. So either side of madam lawsuit against the DM will have attorneys. However madam or her backers are funding her, the DM has deep pockets plus the dossier and a lot of information, much of which we have no idea of. This is going to be very interesting to see if this makes it to court because the DM WILL NOT SETTLE!!! They want this information, all of it out there, she made the worst de by filing this suit!

Subpoena demeanour

A subpoena is an official notice, in paper, that one needs to appear in court. Demeanour is a manner if conducting oneself. So is someone behaving as if a subpoena were imminent or should they be? There are a whole number of individuals this could refer to. I cannot speculate further.

“ocean view,or the hills princess?”

Ha ha ha😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂, l can hear a jail guard or a very cruel psych staff workers jokingly asking her which room/cell she would like and calling her orincess😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣!

“ ones posterior is sore” …… “ I warned you old thing”… “ Bugger them, tomorrow’s chip paper!!”

Here yet again, let’s relax, return to my favourite place, it’s so cozy and warm, TV 📺 is on with , Keeping up Appearances, always good for a laugh and distraction watching Hyacinth henpeck poor Richard🤣🤣😂😂. Cocktails 🍸 arrive, nothing else desired. Fire is stoked, they are left alone. HMTQ and PP again that precious time, HMTQ is complaining, oh no never explain never complain🤣🤣😂😂. She is rather sharing with PP her posterior ie bottom is sore, likely from riding that massive black horse we see her riding so often at Windsor. Gorgeous great beast, l would love to know the name. PP seemingly has little sympathy because he did warn her😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣😂. Tv switch, the news is on, about the horrific comments on PA interview and it being in all the papers. PP then makes the comment. Chip paper, in the U.K., real fish and chips, doesn’t come in a fancy plate, it comes in a conical wrapped newspapers to absorb the grease. In America the next day paper would line the bird cage.

“ I want a monkeeeeey!!🦄🐒

We are fast approaching the biggest day in a child’s year, other than their birthday! CHRISTMAS, Oh how they squirm, search, leave notes, and very subtle, rather NOT SO subtle🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂 hints of the litany of things they want from Santa Claus. Here is little Lottie, rather GRH Princess Charlotte , if you please, still clinging onto her unicorn whilst wailing loudly that she now wants to add to her menagerie A MONKEY ,!🤣🤣🤣😂😂🤣 Oh bless!!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

November 18/2019 1510 hrs CST

💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻SO GLAD TO BE BACK DOING THESE🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜

—————

120: Nov 19

MM ANON ………GM consults Chobanian…… Sharon,concerns about Forth Bridge. …… Charitable uncoupling ……… a worried sausage …… LG ‘quite confidence …… cogs oiled and ready …… Dark clouds over ninety mile beach …… “it’s a runaway train old boy”…… “PRUNING , autumn or Spring?”……” I’m only the messenger!!”……… W&K ,royalty personified …… “weathering the shower, it’s not a storm old boy”

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Riddle #121 looks exceedingly difficult

November 19/2019

1920 hrs CST

GM consults Chobanian

Ghislaine Maxwelll was at JE side for years, she knows EVERYTHING and has been a part of EVERYTHING! She has now disappeared with sightings reported all over the world. Rumours are rampant that she has had plastic surgery to change her face and even her fingerprints. Dr Susan Chobanian is one the premiere plastic surgeons in Los Angeles. I shall say no more, l don’t want legal trouble!

Sharon,concerns about Forth Bridge.

This is one beautiful bridge in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 a cantilever bridge over the Firth of Forth. I have a gorgeous photo l took of the Firth of Forth hanging on my living room wall, along with one l took from a Edinburgh Castle looking out over the guns. I have been over it many times from Glenrothes into Edinburgh but it’s a bear in morning and afternoon traffic!!! It is a UNESCO world heritage site. Who is Sharon? Ariel Sharon was the Prime Minister of Israel from March 2001 until April 2006. That is the first name that popped into my head other than a Sharon Osbourne, and that name was not relevant. Sharon has held innumerable positions in his lifetime. Sharon, passed away in 2014. I am just starting with basic information.

Just as there is a plan in place for precisely what will happen upon the death of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II (Operation London Bridge), Operation Forth Bridge dictates what will happen when the Queen’s husband, Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, passes. The Duke has been closely involved with the details of the Operation Forth Bridge, just as the Queen has been with Operation London Bridge.

I just do not know how Sharon fits, unless his funeral arrangements were similar. I think l just have to admit Sharon stumps me.

Charitable uncoupling

This is a cute play on words from the phrase conscious uncoupling that a Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow used in the PR statement of separation. This is charitable uncoupling, so a charity is separating? We know the Sussexes have left the Royal Foundation. However last l saw on the Royal family website, in the title it says both of the Sussexes have left, but in the actual,article a Prince Harry’s name remains without hers! Or a couple is separating charitably meaning one gets $$$$$

If that is the case it can be only one couple madam and ‘H’.

a worried sausage

HMTQ is very worried about PP health. This has been his nickname for her. The toll this is taking on both of them has been extremely concerning for quite some time!

LG ‘quite confidence , cogs oiled and ready

In a mechanical deceive the cogs are circular metal devices with grooves, when turning produce motion of the device. However friction creates heat and it can burn out, like the transmission of your car, it needs oil. Sounds like LG has everything greased and confident things are ready to go regarding madam. Pre NATO banquet or Post?? The NATO banquet is December 4/2019. As much as l think HMTQ would not want anymore public scandal before then, l can HARDLY see madam at that banquet! However rumours are madam has left the country , yet fromMM ANON last clue l know is 12 X 6.

Or, God forbid, does the reference Forth Bridge!?!

Dark clouds over ninety mile beach

This absolutely gorgeous world famous for some of the best surfing worldwide is this beautiful piece of a Gods creation is in New Zealand. Currently Prince Charles and Camilla are touring.

Has something occurred there that is bad news. Has Camilla’s chest cold returned? Is it pollution and erosion of this sacred place for surfers and tourism? It’s so hard sometimes in the riddle clues to know what relates to whom.

Have hey received news of PO’s ailing health??🥺🥺🥺🥺

“it’s a runaway train old boy”

PP talking to PA l believe. That hellishly creepy interview where he laughed when JE death was raised, the usage of the word honourable in odd places. Guilty or not, we need facts, etc but the interview did endless damage to him and via osmosis to HMTQ and the Monarchy! So things have sped up and the papers and other media are at it now, more than before because they have his own words on video. The metaphor of a runaway train, similar to the horses loose from the stable, things are moving faster and faster and there is absolutely no controlling of this or any narrative now!!

“PRUNING , autumn or Spring?”

Plants and trees vary, some are best pruned in springtime others are best pruned in autumn. This is all to optimize the health of the plant and maximize its blooms , foliage or fruit production. This is uppercase meaning it’s extremely important pruning. This is a metaphor, for ridding or pruning or a person from a group or famIly even. So this is telling me that they are, despite cogs being ready, madam may be still in play until spring. The Royal family is in a very precarious situation now since the interview, believe it or not, more precarious than before. Madam knows things from her previous years, PA knows things from his previous years of friendship with GM and his association with JE! Some of their knowledge may intersect. The extrication of madam now could blow the bottom of the Monarchy! The word pizza, that PA specifically mentioned in his interview, has a very dark meaning in pedophelia , HRC had pizzagate scandal. I am not explaining, don’t go looking there, trust me, you don’t want this knowledge!!! BUT I FIRMLY BELIEVE PA USED PIZZA AS A MESSAGE TO THISE BACKERS AND THAT GROUP FOR A REASON!!! So l just think they are unsure of the best time to prune, either way, the fallout will be explosive!! Remember HRC via social media was overtly saying she wanted to see madam and hug her. What she got instead was a face to face with Prince William, l am 110% every card needed was laid clear on the table, l am also 110% William still held back some aces!!!

I’m only the messenger!!”

There is a phrase don’t shoot the messenger, it’s when a person brings out bad or negative information and the receiver treats them poorly displacing their anger over the information onto the person who brought it. Someone has brought information which has really upset someone.

W&K ,royalty personified

OH I LOST MY BREATH!!! I do not know how our Catherine does it but each time l see her she looks more gorgeous! At the RVP, Royal Variety Performance, in McQueen, that black lace gown, oh🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 she looked so outstandingly Royal! William handsome as ever. He was born Royal, she married and became royal, but naturally possessed all of the the qualities necessary and beauty beyond compare. Oh how Diana would love her!!!! WE ARE SOOOOOO BLESSED TO HAVE THRM AND THEIR BEAUTIFUL FAMILY!💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

“weathering the shower, it’s not a storm old boy”

Conversation, PP. and maybe LG or a friend in conversation. Ever the strong soldier, he is weathering meaning bearing/coping, feelings generally not talked about by those of his generation and aristocratic life. But putting into perspective this interview and it’s fallout are a shower, little bit of rain, not a storm at all. Imagine all he has seen and experienced at his age! Those individuals are called The Greatest Generation! Tom Brokaw wrote with that as the title. The style of the book is easy to jump from section to section. I HIGHLY recommend it.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦2035 hrs CST

I PRAY I AM WRONG ABOUT THESE CLUES ABOUT PP🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

—————-

////not pg Nov 21

MM ANON …… Hey’ RF!! I’m still not OK…… Daughters dilemma …… FBI delivers legal documents …… canary’s calling …… wittiness projection …… Max-well-on-Her-way-farer…… southern district documents verified …… Kuwaiti waity …… Lottie lustre camera caper…… DOC photo exhibition imminent …… “ I have a request”…… request denied !!…… USA demands archificial …… Northern flights.

Dear Skippy! Here is an MM Anon interpretation, including a lot of explanations to help people but I’m not as good at being concise with these as PG! My best thoughts to her and thanks to MM Anon. There are lots of neat clues where I agree with other anon comments, much credit to them all :) All speculation only.

…… Hey’ RF!! I’m still not OK…… This is MM talking. One story today is that Meghan Markle and Prince Harry feel “isolated” as “no-one from the Royal Family is texting them”. Note that the headline starts with MM, indicating that the story comes from MM PR. It continues to show weak work in my opinion, another sad attempt to stay relevant and play the pity card. But I guess there needs to be a gazillion stories pumped out to keep MM in the public eye during her ‘break’ and for SS to ‘earn’ their pay check. Another wonderful example of irrelevant and idiotic stories is one I saw today that she has a necklace with both PH’s and Darrens star sign symbols… why, just why, oh that’s right, to merch. I note that ‘both pieces are still available online’ according to Harpers Bazar. Good to know.

Daughters dilemma …… FBI delivers legal documents …… Poor PB and PE, they are in a dilemma not of their own making, but of their Dad’s. I wish them very well as they navigate this next chapter. There is talk of PA needing to answer a subpoena to give formal evidence under oath to to US investigation into Epstein. MM Anon has talked about a subpoena as long ago as August so interesting to see it potentially coming into play.

canary’s calling …… I think of ‘sing like a canary’ with this clue. If someone sings like a canary, they tell everything they know about a crime or wrongdoing to the police or authorities. Often this is done to ‘save yourself’, face lesser or no charges in exchange for your information on others. Something tells me that it refers to Ghislane Maxwell but it could be so many if connected to Epstein. MM Anon has referenced a canary singing in the past. At the time I thought it MM related, but in hindsight and rereading the context points more to the Epstein situation. I personally think and hope it is too big of a case for a major player to actually ‘get off’ charges.

wittiness projection …… On first read ‘witness protection’. Some believe JE is in witness protection and is not dead, others that GM is in the witness protection programme. As MM Anon has written it, Wit or Wittiness is is a form of intelligent humour. To have wit is also to be quick thinking, be intelligent. Projection has lots of meanings, the one I choose to go with is the way you project or present yourself, your image to others. Someone is smart and canny about how they are presenting themselves, is this GM quietly cooperating with enquiries, to get protection, to stay in hiding?

Max-well-on-Her-way-farer…… A wayfarer is a person travelling on foot. This clue again talks about GM. I take this as, she is ‘well on her way’, she is gone, undercover and away from the public. She is on foot, not literally, more that she is alone and not travelling in the highlife way she used to.

southern district documents verified …… The Epstein case continues in a way in the Southern District with GM being accused of recruitment for him. Currently there are a huge number of documents, naming 1000’s of people, that she is trying to block from being made public, the next court date to address the unsealing is 5th Dec. Is this saying that whatever/whoever is in these documents is true? As we know assuming truth in any story is a dangerous and damaging game, let’s just hope that justice can be served in an ethical and correct manner.

Kuwaiti waity …… The DOC was called ‘Waity Katy’ before becoming engaged to PW, a little play on this (not very nice) nickname relevant now is that PW has an upcoming solo visit to Kuwait and the DOC will be at home waiting for him with the kids.

Lottie lustre camera caper…… DOC photo exhibition imminent …… The DOC is a keen photographer, has Charlotte inherited this talent, or will we have the treat of more Cambridge kids pictures taken by Catherine? Christmas cards will not be far away now! I think it likely the clue relates to the DOC being set to launch a photography competition, called the Earthshot Prize via the Royal Foundation. It sounds a neat and relevant initiative for the DOC.

“ I have a request”…… request denied !!…… Sorry, not sorry. I don’t care what the request was, it clearly is MM asking for something and not getting it which is entertaining to think of.

USA demands archificial …… I don’t see any stories that the US public are scrambling to see Darren doll, as much as MM would not doubt love this to be the case. The only way MM could drum up some serious publicity in the US would be to play the Darren doll card and appear with him. But would she dare ???? The outcry from the UK when she showed him off in Africa, when they cry for privacy in the country that funds them was huge and just raised more questions about his birth, christening etc. I would be a spectacular second ‘own goal’ to repeat this mistake. My mind happily wanders in the direction of ‘USA demands archifical DNA’ with this clue, wouldn’t it be an interesting turn if a requirement to enter/stay/live/pay tax uncovered the truth about Darren doll. I don’t know enough on the subject to even speculate, just an interesting scenario to consider.

Northern flights. Flashback… In 2017 “Prince Harry ‘has taken girlfriend Meghan Markle to Norway to see the Northern Lights”. Hehe, yeah right Meggy just like you ‘had a date at the museum’, wait wasn’t that an episode of Friends? Anyway after that entertaining trip down memory lane, MM is probably heading off on a flight north sometime, Canada to see MA perhaps? A last hopeful note is that an aurora (northern lights) is a natural light display in the Earth’s sky at night. Maybe we should keep looking for the light in the darkness.

Wonderful. Thank you so much. PG will be so happy, as she stresses so about doing the riddles. 😊❤️❤️❤️ /// —————-

—-Dear skippy, whoever interpreted the riddle was spot on ……… amazing.

Thank you….felt Anon deserved to see this! 😊❤️❤️

——————-

121: Nov 22

MM ANON …a cuppa and a trot…… “ no damage darling”…… “W&K will pick up the slack”…… “ let’s go visit the old bugger”…… A Christmas PR push…… “ she has to show archificial “……… Harry and Sandringham??……… “ for goodness sake,nanny had the night off” ……… “it’s a wonderful Christmas card darling”………… will boss baby go viral??………Mmm , Little punk Prince!

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜THANK YOU DEAR MM ANON💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

It is sooo good to be back, thank you all for your love, kindness and prayers!💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Riddle #121 ( l missed two but it’s #121 for me)

November 22/2019 1530 hrs CST

a cuppa and a trot

Today’s papers are full of all sorts of controversy yet again regarding PA. He was to fly to Bahrain this weekend but that was cancelled when the palace got wind if it.oh how l ache for HMTQ 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻. She left BP yesterday for Windsor, seems a day early. Today she was riding her great fell steed in the rain with PA and two others. Spending time together, a mother who loves her son, it has been said for year that he is her favourite. I don’t care about that, just the pain she is going through, on top of PP illness, and everything madam…the last few years have not been kind to one who has so loyally and stoically served! A cup of tea can solve anything, so the saying goes, but l am afraid Ma’am not this.

“ no damage darling”

I can just hear Fergie, Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York saying this to PA. She was seen being driven into BP waving at the cameras with this stupid big smile on her face. It’s said she was the driving force along with Amanda Thirsk, PA now no longer secretary but at the top not of Pitch at Palace program. Fergie looked crazy, smiling as if things were glorious. She just doesn’t get how serious this is! When the slashed budget comes, probably soon, she might just get it.

“W&K will pick up the slack”

How to reschedule PA patronage’s and schedule. He was patron of l believe 65 charities/organizations. Sounding like Prince William and Duchess Catherine will have more heaped onto the plate. There goes my plan for baby number four, if it was in their plans, but just my dreams!

“ let’s go visit the old bugger”

PA saying this to HMTQ about visiting ailing PP at his ‘farm’ at Sandringham. I think PA will get a Royal, pardon the pun, scolding from his father. He may be 98 and unwell but l am certain he still can turn a phrase and deliver a stinging opinion and dress down!

A Christmas PR push…… “ she has to show archificial “

Today in the paper quoting an anonymous friend People magazine spoke of the friction between Harry and William, how LG used to be a good influence but according to this anonymous ‘source’ aka madam, he was no longer there. NOT TRUE, MORE OF HER PR LIES!! LG is very much there, HMTQ called him back into service and he is the Chief Lord. The papers are also saying the Sussexes are now spending the holidays in England. Back and forth, it’s like Serena at the tennis!🤣🤣😂😂 If she goes to America or the holidays in the U.K. she has to produce Archficial. How can she travel to America for Christmas without him and how can she show him when she doesn’t have him? Oh dilemmas dilemmas. Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive madam, yes Rachel, l am talking to you!

Harry and Sandringham??………

Is that the future plan? Is he staying there during his six weeks off? Is he spending that time with PP? It certainly doesn’t mention madam. So is Harry by himself attending Christmas at Sandringham. Oh the morning walk to church, madams first year, not yet married she stuck out her tongue. My sister and l were aghast and were sure it would be news. We looked and there was nothing. If Harry does that walk to church Christmas morning with him family and without madam, THAT WILL MAKE FRONT PAGE CENTRE!!

“ for goodness sake,nanny had the night off” . . There was a big too doo made in the papers the other night when Catherine cancelled the fancy dress night out, William went alone, looking smashing. Is it bad of me if l still want to know what her gown was like?🤣🤣🤣😂😂 The reason given was childcare, they had no one to look after the children. I have a hunch that one or more wasn’t feeling well. It was just the nanny’s night off, and being the mother she is, Catherine stayed with the children. Remember when William had a head injury and had surgery, Diana wouldn’t leave his side, Charles didn’t stay be he had the opera and was angry with her for not going with him. A mother is a true mother. Catherine, you made Diana proud, yet again!! ……… “it’s a wonderful Christmas card darling”………… will boss baby go viral?….Mmm , Little punk Prince! . The family photo at Christmas time has become such a tradition for so many, and of our our royals as well. It sounds like photos have been taken, boss baby wee Prince Louis will steal the show and go viral,, worldwide. Everyone loves the faces that he makes! Everyone loves all three of the Cambridge children, and of course their parents. By the punk comment, l am guess Prince Louis is up to his facial expressions. I can hardly wait to see! GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

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