#Chase giving counsel moments
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ljblueteak · 2 months ago
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Sometimes we get glimpses of what kind of priest Chase might have been and I think one of those moments comes in part 2 of Euphoria, when Foreman's dad isn't sure what he should say before Foreman gets put into a coma.
Rodney: What should I say? Should I talk to him like it’s going to be okay? Or should I be saying goodbye? I need to know what people say when – Chase: Just tell him you love him.
Giving counsel to Foreman's father is actually the perfect role for Chase in Euphoria. He and Foreman aren't anywhere close to friends at this point, but they also haven't had a major conflict that needs resolution the way Cameron and Foreman have. It wouldn't really have made sense from a narrative point of view to have him volunteering to risk his life for Foreman or for him to have the emotional, potentially final moments with him. What he can do, and what does make sense, is for him to give good advice to Foreman's father. It's not really spiritual advice, but it's not medical either and it relates to potential end-of-life.
The one that's more obviously Chase-as-potential-priest is in Damned if You Do. The whole exchange with the nun who's close to death in the clean room and so can't pray with her fellow nuns is amazing, but one of the most significant parts is that when the nun says that choosing faith over fear won't keep her from dying, Chase says, "But it will affect how you experience your death, and therefore your life. It's up to you." Chase can be really, really good at this. He's not offering platitudes or false hope.
I mean, he obviously has moments when he doesn't have the perfect thing to say or has decidedly un-priestly advice (like telling Cameron that if she wants House, she has to "jump him,")but there are points in the show where, yeah, you can kind of see how he might have operated had he continued in seminary. I put the whole conversation with the nun under the cut!
Augustine: Why has He left me? Chase: I was in seminary school. They asked us once what our favorite passage was. I chose 1 Peter 1:7. “These trials only test your faith to see whether or not it is strong and pure. Your faith is being tested as fire tests gold and purifies it.” Augustine: “And your faith is far more precious to the Lord than pure gold; so if your faith remains strong after being tested, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day of His return.” Chase: He hasn’t left you. The only thing in the way of your knowing if he’s there is your fear. You have a choice: faith or fear. That’s the test. Augustine: But choosing faith doesn’t mean I won’t die Chase: But it will affect how you experience your death, and therefore your life. It’s up to you.
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sl8yter · 6 months ago
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Get It Together - Mühl
Pt 1.
Nikas bestfriend Nahiem is “going through a hard time” and Nika is always there for him. Which causes a lack of presence for her gf.
TW - Angst, mentions of cheating, insecurity, nika being a meanie, and lots of audacity
Im in the mood for angst so sorry yall
Nika Muhl x fem reader
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Nika.”
….
“Baby hello?”
“Nika”
“Huh oh sorry bebo I was texting Nahiem” Nika replies to my endless please in an exasperated tone looking at me standing in the kitchen as I prepare our plates
Dont start and argument please Niks
“Didn’t you guys just hang out last week? You said this week it’d be about us.” I walk towards Nika setting her plate on the table in front of me
“Hes my best friend and hes going through a hard time right now. I cant just ignore him.” She says finally taking her eyes off her phone to look at me
“Yea I know and I understand that but sometimes it feels like you care about him more than you do me.”
“Well I didn’t mean to make you feel that way and im sorry you do”
I sit down frustrated at her statement slightly banging the plate against the table
“Jesus christ, please dont be like that tonight��� Nika says playing with her food
“Youre right, Im sorry its just that I love you you know that I do and I wish to spend time with you but its hard to do that when your friend is dragging you off everywhere. It makes me feel ignored.”
Why am I apologizing shes the one with the attitude
“Well Im sorry you feel that way bebo im not trying to ignore you. I want to spend time with you too. But Nahiem needs me too. We’ve been friends forever you know that” Nika says staring at me with a look in her eyes. The same look she gives me whenever she just wants me to agree with her
“I need you too Nika its not fair youve guys have been hanging out too much. I mean imagine if I went to go hang out with one my guy friends every other day.”
“What the fuck are you trying to imply here” Nikas tone changes. Her syllables grow sharper and her accent comes out
Shes mad
She stares at me waiting for my reply as im silent for a moment
“Im not trying to imply anything. I just want you to understand how it looks from my perspective. Which now you clearly do. I dont think you would do that to me but I cant help but wonder sometimes. Youre always texting him and barely even texting me anymore.”
“Im not cheating on you if thats what youre trying to imply. I lost my appetite, im gonna head out.” She adds with quickness, standing up from her chair and grabbing her keys off the counter
“No you always do this. Whenever things dont go your way or I dont immediately agree with you you leave I want to talk more. I want you to understand me more.” I say chasing after her pulling her arm to make her look at me
“Well I try and you make it so difficult”
“You try? You’re kidding me. I barely see you anymore. I wake up and youre gone. I tell you I want to talk its always im busy or later im out with friends. Im trying it feels like im the only one trying anymore.”
“I try so hard you just dont see it.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it giving me a sorrowful face.
That isnt what she looks like when shes sad
“What dont I see Nika please explain to me” I ask knowing shes full of it. She just wants someone to come home to
Her silence makes me snap. I let go of her hand
“Im actually so tired of your bullshit. Im gonna be frank with you since you arent gonna comprehend it any other way. I love you Nika I want to work on our relationship but you have to want that too. At this point ive debated leaving and ive also debated staying in case the sweet girl I knew a year ago wanted to show up again. I think we need couples counsel-”
Im cut off by her grabbing the sides of my face and attempting to kiss me. I retract quickly and try to ask her why she did that but she cuts me off before Ieven start
“Why are you being so difficult right now.” She says giving me a look of disgust. As if a kiss or angry fuck was gonna fix this
“Fuck off Nika. You can leave. Im not the one being difficult. I really dont want to lose you but if youre gonna keep being such a dickhead to me you cant leave. Ive had enough. I try so hard to understand you and I want you to let me im but obviously that isnt gonna happen. I love you but its obvious its not reciprocal.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Leave. Get your self together then you can come back to me. Its gonna be hard to put whatever emotions you have or had for me into words but when you do and you can explain to me why you wanted to throw all this away for me for some guy who probably wants to hit and dip.” I say in the calmest voice possible holding back from yelling at her. If i yell im gonna cry and if I cry Nikas gonna hug me, then ill fold.
I cant give in this time
“Wait bebo im sorry okay I can see how much this hurts you. Lets talk this out I can stop talking to nahiem. I swear he doesnt mean anything to me. I love you let me prove it.” She says, her long and built arms trying to snake around me
“No Nika , I already tried to talk this out. Go back to your dorm, take a shower, and go to sleep. Then we can talk all you want. I need to be alone tonight” I say pushing myself off her as I walk away heading to my room
“Im sorry baby please don’t do this” She says still standing at the door
At least she respects my space
But she doesn’t respect me
“Go to bed Nika” I say before shutting my door
I hear a soft cry before the muffled sound of the door shutting and locking
I hope she does wanna talk in the morning
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Also i dont proofread my writing. I write based off what my angelic soul is telling me so if you see some mistakes or some blank spaces 🦍🦍🦍
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Procedure Part One
Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Ex-Wife!Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ (there will be explicit content in the second part)
Warnings: Cursing; angst; fluff; jealousy; second-chance romance; eventual explicit content
Notes: This is gonna be two parts! Weeeeee lessgo
Length: 4.5K
Summary: When you’d served Borracho papers, he hadn’t been surprised. Hell—he’d almost looked relieved. He hadn’t fought you on it, or asked if you could work it out; he hadn’t offered to go to counseling, or promised you that he just needed one more chance, and that he’d change. The man had already had two divorces in his rearview when he’d met you. This was just…Procedure for him. 
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You were trying not to stare or roll your eyes too much, but goddamn, how fucking obvious could the woman be?
“You’re doing it again.” 
You shot Alyssa a glance, eyes narrowing in annoyance. She just flashed you a bright smile, batting her eyelashes. 
“Oh, please,” You grumbled, nudging her shoulder as she laughed. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Uh, yeah, you are. You’re staring at Jessa’s head like you can make it pop.”
Maybe you were staring more than you usually did—but it wasn’t often that Jessa went out of her way to flirt with your husband. 
Well. Ex-husband. 
And it didn’t help that Borracho seemed to be lapping up every bicep-squeezing, giggling, hair-tossing moment of it. It felt stupid and despicably petty to feel jealous, but to watch her flirt so brazenly in the middle of little league baseball practice? Did she have no shame?
“Relax,” Alyssa waved off your protests before you could say anything else, “We’ve all done it. Remember when that Donaldson chick was flirting with Henderson at soccer practice last year?” 
You grunted, scrubbing your hand across your brow. That had been a fucking fiasco. Flirting with Henderson when Alyssa was nearby was just about the dumbest thing anyone could do, and that was something that the uninitiated learned the hard way. 
“See, even that woman wasn’t as annoying as—No, hear me out,” You raised a hand to quiet Alyssa’s protest, “She didn’t know that he was your ex-husband, right? Jessa knows. I wouldn’t even care,” You fibbed, “If it wasn’t, like, out in front of everybody. Slip into his DMs like a fucking grown up.” 
“...It is kinda like watching your little sister pick through the clothes you don’t want anymore, but didn't say she could have,” Alyssa conceded—and her casual scathing tone made you burn, but you forced yourself to choke out, “Exactly,” Before chasing the bitter taste in your mouth with a hasty swig of soda.
You saw Borracho beginning to glance back toward you and you hurriedly redirected your attention to the field, watching your six-year-old daughter kick at a dandelion in the outfield. You fished into your pocket for your phone as it buzzed, frowning at the sight of a text from Borracho: 
Made ya look
“...Heads up,” Alyssa muttered. 
“She better fucking not—”
“We got incoming—”
“She better fucking not—”
“Hey ladies!” Jessa’s bright tone broke over the two of you, and it took everything in you not to pitch your phone into the ground. 
“Hi Jessa,” Alyssa shifted, subtly elbowing you. You kept your focus on your phone. What the hell did that mean? He hadn’t seen you looking at him, there was no way—
“Hey!” Jessa repeated, as bright and friendly as before, and you forced yourself to look up, a placid smile on your lips. You couldn’t even blame Borracho—she was exactly his type. Hell, half of the other little league parents confused you and Jessa for one another on a regular basis. 
“Hi.” 
“How’s it going over here? I thought I’d come and say hi, you two always look so,” She bunched her shoulders up, “Cozy.” 
“We’re like a pile of kittens,” Alyssa cooed before nodding to first base. “Looks like Ryder is having a good practice today.”
“Yeah! Yeah, he’s been practicing with his dad on his weekends, it’s been really good for him.”
You and Alyssa nodded in unison, giving sympathetic hums in harmony. It was no secret that Jessa was newly divorced, and it was well known that you, Alyssa, and your sometime companion, Allie Conners, were all in the divorced boat—but you had never felt drawn to bring Jessa into your corner. The three of you were gossipy in a way that bordered on bitchy, shared mimosas in a thermos during games, and bonded by a very particular understanding of one another’s marriages, and why they ended. 
Jessa seemed so…Nice. But maybe if she got her way, she’d understand where exactly you and Borracho and the others had gone wrong. 
Or maybe they won’t go wrong. 
The unexpectedly possibility stung so much that you found yourself looking at the field again, hand curling tightly around your phone. Made you look. What the fuck did that even mean? 
“Well!” Jessa’s squeak of an exclamation nearly made you wince, “I’m going to go grab a water. Do either of you want any?” 
“No thanks—”
“I’m good.” 
Her smile remained in place, but you felt a little rotten for the small, dejected nod she gave you before walking away. You and Alyssa watched her go, and Alssya ‘hmph’d after a moment. 
“Should we…?” She trailed off, catching sight of your flat expression. “Never mind.” 
“Second she hops off of Ben’s dick, sure.” You glanced toward where Borracho was rolling up the sleeves of his henley to hit a few balls to the outfield. Your eyes swept over his arms, down to his muscled forearms as he took hold of the bat. 
“...You’re doing it again.”
“Shut up, Lyss.” 
Alyssa snorted, swiping your soda and taking a swig.
– 
You trailed Borracho and Olivia to the car, listening to her tell her father about the spider that she saw crawling on the dandelion while she was in the outfield—that’s why she missed the ball he’d hit her way, obviously. 
“Alright, well maybe next time we pay a little more attention to the ball, princess,” Borracho teased, ruffling her hair. “At least during the game this weekend, okay?” 
“Okay,” She sighed, stopping beside the car and yanking at the door that you haven’t unlocked yet. 
“Hang on, bug,” You chuckled, “Say goodbye to your dad.”
Olivia leaned heavily against Borracho, giggling as he reached down, tickling her sides. 
“I’ll see you at the game this weekend,” He murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her head before Olivia pulled away, climbing into the backseat and tugging the door shut behind herself. 
“Good practice,” You commented. 
“Sure.” Borracho nodded, gaze sweeping over your face. “Looked like you and Alyssa did a few laps.” 
Before you could ask what he meant, he added, “You two run your mouths like nobody’s business—”
You sucked your teeth, grumbling, “You play too much,” As he laughed. 
“I’m glad you got to talk,” He added. “She tell you about Zapata’s girl?”
“Mhm,” You nodded. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but—” 
“I know. He gets uptight, pops off.”
“I have no idea what that’s like,” You smiled. It was Borracho’s turn to roll his eyes, leaning against the car.
“Alright.” 
“Uh-huh.”
“You gonna talk to her?” 
“I mean,” You shrugged, “Alyssa probably will. She’s better about that stuff—And she was closer to her than I was, so.”
“Mm.” Borracho was quiet for a moment before he tipped his chin up a touch. “You like my text?” 
Poker face, damnit. Don’t let on.
“What text?”
His brows rose in disbelief. 
“I texted you.”
“When?”
“During practice.”
“Oh? I didn’t see it.” Leave it there. Go home— “But I’m surprised you had time to text with how busy you and Jessa were.” 
Borracho’s shit-eating grin made your stomach twist. You never had been all that good at poker. 
“That so?” 
“You two seemed pretty occupied.” 
“We were just talking.” 
“About what?” 
“Baseball.”
“Mm, really.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good, that’s topical.” 
“This is cute.” “Excuse me?” 
“Nah, I like it. Can’t remember the last time you were jealous.” 
You wheezed an affronted laugh, raising your hand to clutch your invisible pearls. 
“Oh, that is so—That is not what’s happening right now.” 
“No?” 
“No—Are you fucking kidding me?” 
“Language—” 
“She can’t hear me—” 
“Swear jar, mom!” Olivia crowed, muffled through the door. 
“Car isn’t soundproofed,” Borracho added, taking a couple of steps back. “I’ll see you on Saturday.” 
-- 
Relax, we’ve all done it.
Alyssa’s reassurance played through your mind all night. The thing that bothered you the most was that you really hadn’t felt that way since your marriage to Borracho had started falling apart. You’d known that his coworkers sometimes encouraged him to be around women then you typically didn’t want him to be around. When the two of you were on the verge of splitting up, you’d told yourself that you would almost welcome one of them taking him off of your hands. 
At the time, it had seemed better than the other prospect—Borracho coming home late from being out with the guys, smelling like cheap floral body spray, with flecks of glitter on his clothes or in his hair and lap. He had felt like such a far cry from the man that you had loved and married; that had once answered your questions with a smile and not an eye roll; that used to pick you up after a long shift at work with a kiss and a snack because he knew you would be hungry. 
He’d changed over the course of your relationship, but you had, too. You’d grown tired of asking him to do things around the house. Your concern around his job and the cases that he was involved in felt so much more acute, and became so much worse once you’d gotten pregnant with Olivia. 
Nitpicking had snowballed into fights; fights festered and devolved into Borracho staying out late, then not coming home at all. On those nights, you’d lose sleep, torn between annoyance at his stubbornness, and the fear that you’d wake up to a knock on the door, or a call from Nick with his regrets, apologizing that something had gone terribly wrong. Olivia had been the only reason that the two of you had stayed together as long as you had. By the end, you were certain that there was still love there, but between work and feeling like you were already raising Olivia on your own, you just couldn’t find it. You were tired of fighting, and you knew that you didn’t want Olivia growing up in a home that never felt safe or settled. 
When you’d served Borracho papers, he hadn’t been surprised. Hell—he’d almost looked relieved. He hadn’t fought you on it, or asked if you could work it out; he hadn’t offered to go to counseling, or promised you that he just needed one more chance, and that he’d change. The man had already had two divorces in his rearview when he’d met you. This was just…Procedure for him. 
The first few months had been hell. The worrying didn’t stop, but the fighting had gone from a full boil to a simmer again. You let some of your irritations go in favor of focusing on building a more solid foundation for you and Olivia, and creating a regular routine for her and Borracho.
For as hectic and painful as your four years of marriage had been, the only thing that you and Borracho could always agree on was Olivia. You had never stopped him from being able to see her when he moved out; his child support was always paid on time and in-full, and he never griped about helping out when things unexpectedly came up. He was more involved than most divorced dads that you knew.
You had joint custody, but Borracho’s schedule could be so hectic that she lived primarily with you. She saw him at least twice a week for little league, and stayed with him at least once a week. He went out of his way to call her and say goodnight and that he loved her, even if it wasn’t right before bed. 
Alyssa had been waiting for you with open arms, happy to commiserate with you as her marriage to Henderson had also unraveled. For a while, bringing Olivia to little league was the only time that you saw Borracho outside of pickups and drop-offs. Now, the two of you tended to chat a little before getting into your cars and heading your separate ways. You almost never argued, and if you did, it was with lowered voices, without Olivia in the room. It had been two years since your divorce, and while things hadn’t fully healed with Borracho, they were in a far better place than they had been. The two of you were friendly, for the most part. And sure, there have been moments when you’ve missed him, but…
But the bubbling of jealousy in your belly this evening had felt so foreign to you. It wasn’t just the way that Jessa had flirted, it was how much Borracho seemed to enjoy it.
Had he smiled at you like that when you’d been together? You were trying so hard to remember. He must have, right? At least once, maybe twice. Maybe at the very beginning, when you’d started dating—before he’d warned you that his job could be a lot, and that he’d been married twice before, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to get married again. You sometimes wondered if you would’ve gotten married at all if you hadn’t gotten pregnant. 
On your good nights, you were certain that you would’ve, that you and Borracho had been so deeply in love when he proposed that you didn’t doubt it. 
On your bad nights, you told yourself that you’d done it so that Olivia would grow up in a home with two parents, and that you’d failed at that. 
Tonight, you stared at your ceiling, trying to think of anything but the way Jessa had run her hand over the slope and bulge of his bicep, and the way that Borracho had grinned and leaned into her. 
He wasn’t yours anymore. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. 
So long as he didn’t do whatever the hell he wanted anywhere near you. 
--  
“Mom?” 
“Yeah, bug?” You tipped your head back a bit as Olivia piped up from the backseat. 
“What were you and dad fighting about after practice?” 
You frowned, stopping the car at a red light and twisting to get a better look at her. 
“You thought we were fighting?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Why do you say that, hon?” 
Olivia lowered her eyes to her lap, toying with the plush baseball bat that Borracho had gotten her for Christmas (she had loved it immediately and declared it her good luck charm; she wouldn’t go to a game without it). 
“You used a bad word.” 
You pursed your lips. “Yes, I did, and I’m sorry. Your dad and I weren’t fighting, we were…Kidding around.” 
“You can use that word when you’re kidding?” 
“Adults can. You can’t. And shouldn’t. Especially on the field, or at school. Mama will be better about her language, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
“And your dad and I are okay. Okay?” 
“...Okay.” 
She sounded less convinced this time, but you didn’t want to litigate it right now—and the light was turning green, anyway. 
--
You kept your pace even as Olivia darted ahead of you, screaming hello to her friends and joining them on the field. Alyssa turned to look at you where she was already camped out on the bleachers, grinning and patting the spot beside herself. You smiled, sitting down and setting your bag down between your legs. 
“Oof girl, the look on your face,” Alyssa laughed. “You look like you need some of my special orange juice.” 
“Mm, I shouldn’t. Ben’s got Liv for the night, but I’m gonna have to drive my car back later.” 
“One of the guys can drop you back and you can get it tomorrow.” 
You glanced between her and the thermos before you took it, smiling as Alyssa teased, “Atta girl. I got a whole ‘nother one, so go wild.” 
“I don’t know about wild.” 
“I do…What’s got that look on your face, anyway?” 
You toyed with your answer as you took a sip of the mimosa from the thermos. 
“Liv thought Ben and I were fighting after practice.” 
“Were you?” 
“No! No, we were just…I cursed. Guess she remembers that from when we were together, when she was small.” You looked at the lid of the thermos. “I don’t know, sometimes I forget how much she heard, how much she saw before we—you know.” 
“I hear you. Devon freaks out if Gus and me even look at each other wrong.” 
You were quiet for a moment before you couldn’t hold the smile back. 
“What?” Alyssa frowned. 
“I keep forgetting Henderson’s first name is Gus,” You giggled, unable to help it. “How do you moan that—” Your giggle broke into a cackle as Alyssa shoved your shoulder, groaning, “You’re the worst!” 
You sighed as the two of you settled, glancing around just in time to see Jessa looking across the bleachers for somewhere to sit. That bubbling in your stomach came up again, and you hurriedly swigged your mimosa in the hopes of dampening it. Before you could second guess yourself, you raised a hand and flagged her down, patting the seat beside yourself. Her face brightened immediately, waving back and beginning to head toward you. 
“...You sure you wanna do that?” Alyssa muttered. 
“I was a bitch to her the other day,” You shrugged. “She’s nice.” 
“You think Borracho feels the same way?” 
“Don’t give a fuck about what he feels.” You didn’t meet Alyssa’s eye as you said so—hell, you could barely get the lie out to yourself. You didn’t want to know how unconvincing it sounded to anyone else. 
“Morning, ladies!” Jessa grinned as she settled onto the seat beside you. “Great day for a ballgame.” 
“Sure is,” Alyssa chirped over your emphatic hum and nod. 
“Made it just in time,” Jessa added. “That parking lot is so intense. I had to cut someone off just to get a space.” 
“Yikes. Hope they were on the other team.” 
“Honestly, I didn’t get a good look. They just flipped me off and sped away.” 
“Hey y’all,” You heard, and turned to see Allie Conners approaching you on the bleachers. “Sorry Jack and me are late, some dickhead in a fucking Mazda took my parking space—” She went still at the sight of Jessa, eyes narrowing critically. You leaned into Jessa a little, murmuring, 
“What kind of car do you drive?”
“I’m not sure I should say.” 
--  
You knew that you were staring again. Luckily for you, Alyssa was too distracted to notice. 
Jessa had declined your invite to get pizza with the group, but considering the parking lot incident, it was probably for the best. You honestly weren’t sure she could handle being thrown into the deep end of this group’s hangouts. Unless he was too busy working, the group of you always convened at Henderson’s place—he was the only one with a backyard, and the kids always had a little excess energy to burn off. Olivia, Devon, and Jack were still zipping around the backyard, running on the adrenaline of winning the game; the other parents were talking, and you were just…Not paying attention to any of them. Jessa wasn’t hovering, or squeezing his bicep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop looking at Borracho. 
You hadn’t been subtle, either. You knew that you hadn’t because he’d caught you looking a couple of times. Every look was paired with a furrowed brow, a small, questioning smile before you’d waved him off and turned away. You forced yourself to look away as you felt him turning to look at you again, and you pushed yourself up, picking up your empty beer and heading for the kitchen.
You waved off Alyssa’s questioning glance, smiling and mouthing ‘Empty’ before heading inside. You set it on the counter, taking a fresh one out of the fridge—but rather than head back to the backyard, you walked to the front door, stepping out and sitting on the front steps. You sighed softly, cracking the beer open and taking a sip. 
God, what the hell was wrong with you? When did you let yourself get so lonely? You spent so much time worrying about Olivia, about Borracho (whether you liked to admit it or not), about your job—
“You good?” 
You looked back at the sound of his voice, stomach swooping as he settled down beside you. 
“Scared the crap out of me,” You grumbled. 
“Sorry.” 
“Are you?” 
Borracho shrugged a little. You watched as he fished into his pocket, drawing out a pack of cigarettes. 
“...I thought you were quitting,” You accused. 
“Olivia tell you that?” 
“Mhm. You tell that to Olivia?” 
“Told her I’d try. I didn’t say it was going well.” He held the pack out to you, brows raising. You hesitated before shaking your head, raising your beer and taking a sip. Borracho grunted, lighting up. You glanced over, watching his cheeks sink as he took a drag from the cigarette. 
“You doin’ okay?” He asked. 
“Sure. You?” 
“Mhm.” 
You nodded a little, looking down at the beer bottle and trailing your finger over a drop of condensation. 
“...So you really okay?” 
“Ben—” 
“What’s going on with you?” 
“Nothing is going on!” 
"You’ve been distracted all day.”
“How could you know that? Were you watching me all day?”
“Yeah, I was.” You hardly had time to let that surprise sink in before he added: “You were watching me, too.” 
You hesitated before you shook your head a little bit. 
“I’ve just been thinking.” 
“About what?” 
“Stuff, I don’t know.” 
“...Alright. I’ll wait.” 
“What?” 
“You’ll tell me when you wanna tell me.” 
“I don’t have anything to tell!” 
“No, sure you don't.” “For fffffff—” You found yourself self-consciously glancing toward the door before you finished, “Frickssake.” 
“Kids can’t hear you out here, you can curse.” 
“Yeah, I know, just…Told Olivia I’d be better about it.” 
“She should hope you aren’t. That swear jar’s gonna get her through college.” “...She thought we were fighting the other night.” 
“By the car?” 
“Mhm.” 
“She worried about that?” 
“I think so.” 
“We’re good now though.” 
His insistence made you warm, and you nodded again.
“Yeah, we are.” You held your beer out for Borracho to sip and waited until he’d raised it to his lips to ask, “So when are you asking Jessa out?” Your questioning turned to cackling as Borracho spluttered. He rolled his eyes, setting the beer down between the two of you. 
“I’m teasing,” You added, gently nudging his shoulder with yours. “But if you wanna, you know. You should go for it.” 
“You think so?” 
“Sure. She’s nice, ‘Livvy gets along with her son…You have my blessing—Not that you need it, obviously.” 
“Uh-huh. Is this a trick?” 
“What?” 
“You give me your blessing to date someone and then you turn around and tell me you’re getting married or something?” 
“No! God no, I’m not even dating.” 
“Mm…When’s the last time you went on a date?” 
“I dunno, it’s been a while. What about you?” 
“Couple months.” 
“How’d you meet her?” You glanced over when Borracho took a few moments to answer and found his face twisted with indecision. “...Ben.” 
“Work.”
“Oh?” You laughed. “Was this one a widow, dispatch, a gangbanger’s baby mama, a hooker from one of those parties—” 
“Alright—” 
“No, hang on, I’ve got one more—A witness? Was it a witness?” You leaned in a little, brows waggling, and grinned when Borracho huffed, annoyed. “Oh, so it was a witness. Anything good? Gnarly crime scene? Drive-by? Missing neighbor? Weird smell coming from her basement?” 
“You know, I think I liked it better when you didn’t like hearing about this shit.” 
“Swear jar.” 
“Dumbass.” 
“Now that’s two dollars, pal.” 
“I’ll throw it onto the monthly.” 
“You do that.” 
“What if I don’t?” 
“You just wait.” 
“Oh-ho—” 
“You just wait and see.” 
“You gonna take me back to court over two dollars?” 
“Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” 
“I’m good for it.” 
“Uh-huh...So why didn’t you keep seeing the uh—the witness?” 
“Just wasn’t feeling it.” 
“Why not?” You leaned against him again, whining, “C’mooooon, you can tell me.” 
“Why haven’t you been goin’ out, huh? You tell me.” 
“I’m busy, that’s all.” 
“Oh, and I’m not?” 
“That’s not what I mean, Ben.” 
“...I can take Liv a couple more nights.” 
You smiled a little, trying to ignore the slight bitterness that bubbled in your belly at the offer. God, it was nearly as bad as seeing Jessa flirt with him. He was trying to be nice—so why did it feel so rotten to hear it? Did he want you off of his hands so badly? 
“I appreciate that, but don’t feel the need to for—That reason. I mean you can take her more often if you have time. I know she loves staying at yours. She’d like it.” 
“We can figure something out.”
“Yeah.” 
“...You try the apps?” 
“For about five minutes. I had to delete them before I completely lost my faith in humanity.” 
Borracho chuckled softly, tapping the ashes from the end of his cigarette. 
“Figures.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You can’t meet people like that.” 
“Anyone can, that’s the point.” 
“No, I mean you can’t meet people like that.” 
“I could if I wanted to.” 
“How long did you say you were on the apps again?” 
“Alright.” 
“I’m just saying, you know, I know you. You’re gonna feel better about someone you meet the old-fashioned way.” 
You grunted, annoyed, as you took another sip of your beer. 
“Am I wrong?” Borracho prodded. 
“No.” You waited for another tease, but when Borracho didn’t say anything, you turned to find him watching you closely. You shifted in your spot uncomfortably, brow furrowing. “What?” 
“I should set you up.” 
“What?” You scoffed. 
“I should.” 
“That is the most hair-brained, idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.” 
“I think it’s the best idea I’ve had all day.” 
“Really? ‘Cause I think that goes to putting your daughter in the outfield so she can kick dandelions again.” 
“Oh, so when she kicks dandelions, she’s my daughter?” 
“You know she gets so bored out there.” 
“She’s six, she gets bored anywhere I put her.” 
“Not true. She likes first base.” 
“I’m setting you up.”
“You are not setting me up unless you want me setting you up.” You turned to see Borracho’s brow furrowing. “...I’m getting the feeling you hate that idea.” 
“Yeah, no, I’m good. I’ve met your friends.” 
“Uh-huh, and I’ve met yours and they’re no prize.” 
“...How about I take Liv a couple of Fridays this month, give you time to go out. It doesn’t have to be on a date,” He added before you could argue, “Just, you know. A little extra you time.” 
“Okay. If the schedule works, maybe we keep it up.” 
“That sounds good.” 
“Good.” You reached out, plucking the cigarette from his fingers and taking a quick drag before passing it back. 
“We should head back in,” You sighed out the smoke. “Alyssa’s going to think we’re fighting out here.”
“Alyssa can think whatever the fuck she wants,” Borracho grumbled as you stood, dusting your hands. 
“Cigarette out, let’s go,” You urged, laughing as Borracho grunted as he stood. “Did you really just do the old man grunt?” 
“Bold words from a woman whose knees cracked when she got up.”
“Shut up, there's no way you heard that.”
“Popped like an AK.”
@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 
@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 
@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; 
@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 
@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989
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anneapocalypse · 1 month ago
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WIP Whenever
Thank you @lilbittymonster for the tag! Tagging @farfromdaylight @orime-stories @calico-heart @gunbun and anyone else who wants to share.
Have a bit of sad elf fic. Spoilers for Heavensward.
***
"Urianger? It's—it's me. Pray forgive me, I know the hour is late…"
For a moment, the tremulous voice over linkpearl was scarcely recognizable as Master Alphinaud. Even as recognition pierced his weary mind—nay, he had not been asleep, late as the hour was, but certainly contemplating sleep—he felt the stab of alarm in his breast. Even as the words Is aught amiss? rose to his lips, he cast them aside, for rarely had he felt so certain that aught was, in sooth, amiss.
"'Tis I, Master Alphinaud. Pray, are you well? Are you safe?"
"I'm—" The lad fairly choked on his reply. Never had Urianger known Louisoix's grandson at a loss for words, and his alarm only deepened, before the next words came in a rush:
"He's dead—Lord Haurchefant is dead."
Urianger did his utmost to piece together what he knew of their exploits in the north with the halting tale Master Alphinaud now told. He was aware, of course, that Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light had returned to Ishgard following the restoration of the sultana, even as the dissolution of the Crystal Braves had ended the necessity of their exile. Several Braves whose loyalties remained with the Scions had returned to the Rising Stones, and one in particular, Riol, had been in contact, eager to assist in the search for their missing comrades.
Urianger recalled those "secrets long-buried" to which Master Alphinaud had previously alluded, though he knew not their nature, and from what spilled forth from the lad now he gleaned that the great wyrm Nidhogg had indeed been slain. Yet what followed was far from the nascent peace for which they had so hoped. Unrest in Ishgard, the well-intentioned pleas of the Lord Commander to the Archbishop. The storming of the Vault of the Holy See, the summonings—not of Halone, but of the Knights of Thordan, for which Urianger could hardly help but chide himself, for failing to pursue that avenue of inquiry.
And then the brave sacrifice of a knight of Ishgard, their stalwart ally to the end.
'Twas plain there was more to the tale, even then.
"Ariane…" Alphinaud said at last, followed by a long pause as though he could scarcely summon up the words. "She was… they were…"
Urianger's own reply was rather delayed, as it was a moment before he grasped what Master Alphinaud meant to imply. "…Ah."
"We tried to save him," Alphinaud said hollowly. "I tried… I did all I could, but the wound would not mend, and Ariane… she did something. I don't know white magic. I only know it nearly killed her, too. We had to carry her back to the estate, and I… I wasn't certain she'd awaken."
He understood, now, why Alphinaud had called. Shaken, in shock, the boy had turned to him not for counsel, but simply for some measure of comfort.
Would that he were nearer, the better to offer it. Would that words could ease the loss of such a treasured friend. Against his will, he recalled again the accursed letter he had penned to Wilfsunn and Bloewyda, filled with verse and platitude, as though to absolve him of his guilt.
Now was no time to permit himself to drown in his own shame. Not when Louisoix's grandson had need of him.
"'Dawn may banish even the darkest night,'" he replied, the only words he could draw to mind, and he feared that even now he had erred.
"'Yet ever shall primal desires burn,'" Alphinaud murmured, almost automatically. Well did they both of them know these words. "'Two swords shall vie to lay them low…' And so they shall. On the morrow we give chase… and gods willing, we shall thwart the Archbishop's schemes."
"The Warrior of Light yet lives, then." He knew it must be so, yet he would hear those words from Master Alphinaud for a certainty.
"She does. She…" Alphinaud went silent a moment. "I'm worried for her. But she lives. She did come to, some bells ago… She's in her guest suite now. Resting, I pray." He drew a deep breath, somewhat calmer. "'A blade born of Light and a blade forged of might…' I'd place my trust in her still, without question. Yet I fear for her. I hope…" He trailed off, sounding once again rather lost.
"So must we hope, Master Alphinaud. If there is aught I may do to aid you…"
"I thank you. Tataru said you've some promising leads on our missing friends?'
In truth, those leads were largely thanks to the efforts of Riol and Marshal Tarupin. With the Braves dissolved, at long last a full search of the watercourse could be undertaken, though of course some time had passed, and there was much ground to cover. Nonetheless, the Marshal had promised to report any findings, and at this particular moment, Urianger thought it best to remain optimistic.
"Aye," he said simply, "we have, and 'tis mine every hope that they shall bear fruit."
"I'm glad to hear it." Alphinaud let out a long breath. "I should let you go… forgive me again for troubling you at this hour."
"'Tis no trouble, Master Alphinaud. Pray, accept my sympathies for the loss of your friend. May the Twelve watch over your footsteps in the days to come."
"Yours too, Urianger. Yours too."
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hecatesbroom · 10 months ago
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I've been thinking A Lot about how Dorothy apparently wanted to open an antiques shop and uh, a little AU might've sprung forth from it. I present:
Golden Girls antiques shop AU
After divorcing Stan, Dorothy opens up her own antiques shop (let's keep it in Miami because that's just easier lol)
Sophia still burns down Shady Pines has to move in with Dorothy at some point, so she also helps with the shop. Much to Dorothy's frustration because all she really does is scare off customers by threatening them (admittedly with increasing creativity) when they attempt to haggle.
Sophia also glares at people when she thinks they might be stealing stuff (they usually aren't, but to her credit, she's caught and handled at least two real thieves. Never mind the poor, bruised, innocent people who received the same treatment)
Blanche, who already lives with Rose (they've been roommates for about 6 months), often stops by to see if Dorothy has any new paintings. Working for the museum, Blanche likes to stop by antiques shops from time to time to see if anything valuable pops up.
Dorothy's shop is Blanche's favourite by far. Not because she actually finds anything there (Dorothy doesn't even have a lot of paintings to begin with) but because she loves its owner.
She's not quite prepared to say how much she loves its owner, but suffice to say she would've been able to get herself invited to dinner (at the very least) if Dorothy had been a man.
So Blanche stops by very very frequently. They talk a lot.
Dorothy feels like strangely enough, Blanche is the only person she's ever been really open to about her divorce, since it happened 2 years ago.
Dorothy keeps any paintings she does receive in storage until Blanche has seen them, before puts them in the shop. Just in case there's one she does want for the museum this time.
Blanche starts bringing Rose along, because Rose wants to meet this really nice lady at the antiques shop herself. She's brought cookies (the cookies are tooth-shatteringly sweet, but then so is Rose, and Dorothy can't help but love her for it)
Rose shows up more often by herself, because the shop is on her way to the counseling center and she likes Dorothy and Sophia's company. She tells them St Olaf stories (Sophia tries to usher her out the moment she gets the St Olaf Story Look™ on her face, to no avail)
At some point Dorothy needs an assistant in the store who won't scare off customers. She shares this with Blanche, who suggests hiring Rose, who was told only a week ago that the grief counseling center is going bankrupt.
Dorothy's unsure about this, initially. I mean, could you see Rose working in a store? She might give away everything for free! But she feels bad about her being without a job, and if she's really honest with herself, she knows she'll miss Rose's company when she stops dropping by on her way to work.
When Rose starts to work in the shop, she turns out to be shockingly good at her job. Dorothy has no idea how she does it, but when people haggle with her, Rose somehow ends up getting paid more for the item than it initially cost.
When asked about this, Rose brushes it off with a simple "I sold waffles by the side of the road as a kid"-story (Sophia doesn't cut her off this time because she wants to know if Rose will disclose how, exactly, she learned to haggle that way. But the story ends without a point, as always)
In fact, the store is busier than ever. Rose brings homemade cookies or pie to work every day that she shares with everyone who visits. And she's so nice to people they just keep coming back, and bringing friends. Even Sophia can't chase them off anymore.
Dorothy wonders, at some point, if she ought to turn her shop into a café.
(she doesn't. there's no way Rose is ever going to charge money for the food she brings to work)
Blanche drops by basically every day after work at the museum at this point, for a chat and (more and more frequently) to have dinner at Dorothy's. Sophia's a great cook after all, and Blanche and Rose rarely get the chance to cook a warm meal for themselves after work.
It's been about a year since Rose started working for Dorothy, when Dorothy develops CFS. Rose and Sophia step in and run the store together for a while, with Blanche helping out whenever she can (she usually comes in to do household chores, but considering she actually hates those, mostly ends up talking to Dorothy for a couple of hours about her dates instead. At least the sentiment is nice)
But when it's been almost a month and Dorothy shows no signs of getting better, their concern about both Dorothy and their situation grows. They need help, medically and in the store, but they can't afford that on top of the rent Dorothy pays for her own house.
Blanche offers the solution before anyone else can think of an alternative: "Why, it's very simple. You two just move in with us!"
Sophia protests about moving in with Rose of all people ("You're crazy if you think I'm willing to live with that moron! As if working with her isn't enough!") because she probably feels at least as bad about this as Dorothy.
Seeing as there's no other choice they decide to move in with Rose and Blanche. This works out even better than expected for all four of them
Dorothy goes through the whole diagnosis stuff we've seen in the show and doesn't miraculously heal between episodes, but she improves slowly with the help of her friends to the point where she can work part-time again
They keep a very comfortable chair (with one of those adjustable backrests so you can kind of lie down on it?) in the store for Dorothy so she can rest at work, if she needs it
ANYWAY they slowly start to realise how much they mean to each other and just how lucky they are to be together
Blanche keeps working at the museum because she loves that job (and also they don't really need someone else to help in the shop now that Dorothy's back part time, so financially it's a lot more secure if Blanche keeps another job unrelated to the shop)
Rose gets to bake sickeningly sweet stuff every day and befriends all the kids near the shop because of it (Dorothy tells her she should've opened a bakery)
Dorothy realises just how lucky she is to finally be living with people who make her feel better about herself and her life. Finally she lives with people she doesn't just have to put up with, but whom she genuinely loves
Sophia, who loves them a lot more than she lets on, decides Blanche and Rose are her daughters now too. Turns out she was kind of predicting the future with that because obviously Rose, Blanche, and Dorothy get married at some point
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bullet-prooflove · 2 years ago
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Perfume: Will Halstead x Reader
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Tagging: @misscharlielulu @cosmic-psychickitty @tonio-dawson @brianbabygirlzvonecek @gummybabey @rosaliedepp @annieradcliff @mrspeacem1nusone @sowrongitslottie @readingbookelf @earthtolottie @crazy4chickennuggets @cixrosie @halsteadloversworld @horny-and-sad27 @oneandonlychicago @wolfers-stuff @bradshawsdarlin @aaronhtchnrs @mysoulisasunflower @luckyladycreator2 @zephyrmonkey @bluecrush129 @thespottedcreature @celilice1 @one-sweet-gubler @anime-weeb-4-life @99-reasons-to-live @hermionelove @cupids-lover @bbyxoo @legit9thlunaticwarrior @upsteadlogic @laylasbunbunny @lelaart @genius2050 @iworldlywriter @winterrosies-blog @nu1freakshow @kylieramey
Prologue Piece to Stand Up  and Moment of Madness
 
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Will wasn't sure how it happened, he'd taken all the necessary measures he could to avoid you, he was always aware when you were around, and he did his best to keep his distance whenever the two of you were in Molly’s together. That was until now when he had literally bumped right into you as you were coming through the door, and he was heading out. His gaze locked with yours, your bodies pressed together in the confined space, he could practically feel your breath on his face. You turned your head away, the tension in your jaw setting.
The two of you hadn’t spoken since you’d gotten engaged to another man. Will didn’t trust himself to. Every time he saw the two of your together it was like someone was driving a scalpel right between his ribs and severing his aorta. You slipped past him, without so much as a second glance, leaving a trail of perfume in your wake.
The scent almost brought him to his knees. It was a beautiful, intoxicating aroma, one that reminded him of nights wrapped up in the darkness of his bedroom as the two of you did things underneath the sheets that he could only dream of now.
He’d bought it for you as a gift what seemed like a lifetime ago and the memory of it had stuck with him since your relationship had ended. He steered clear of women who wore it, especially those that had even the slightest resemblance to you.
As he stood out in the cold, his hands in his pockets he remembered the last time he’d smelt it. It had been before you and Matt had started seeing each other, the night before the two of you had broken it off.
You were needy, desperate, your skin sensitive as his hands traced the outline of your body, coming to rest on your bare hips. You had begged him that night, your hands in his curls as his teeth grazed that deviant little spot just underneath the hinge of your jaw, his cock notching at your entrance. He drew your thigh up over his hip, those whiskey eyes of his watching the rapturous expression on you features as he filled you slowly.
The sound of the door opening behind him jerked out of the reverie before someone lit up a cigarette beside of him, chasing away the ghost of that fragrance.
The memory was still there though, raw, warm, and welcoming. He couldn't go back; he knew he had to find a way to stop but he couldn’t. All he can think about is you, about the mistake he’d made by allowing you to walk out of his life when things got a little rough. He remembers the haunted look in your eyes as you walked out the door, how he’d decided to give you space instead of talking it out, how space had turned to distance and before he knew it, he was back to sleeping alone because his bruised ego wouldn’t allow him to admit his issues, to confront them.
He's been in counselling since, it’s helped. He’s identified his problems, his triggers, he’s developed coping mechanisms, strategies to help him manage the days where it feels like the world is falling down around his head. He wants to tell you this, he wants to show you he took everything you said on board, that he’s taken the time to work on himself, learned not to hurtle headlong into all those self-destructive behaviours that have almost ruined him time and time again.
The door swings open, and he catches a glimpse of you at the bar, Matt Cooper’s hand resting on your hip. That diamond ring glinting in the light from above as he leans in close and whispers something into your ear, something that makes you tip your head back and laugh.
It crushes something deep inside of Will’s chest because you used to laugh like that with him. You used to curl up in his arms when you were feeling vulnerable, and he would know without a word what you needed. He wonders if Matt can give you that. If he can read you as well as Will could, as well as Will still can. He knows you’re not in love with Matt Cooper.
From the look in your eyes when the two of you bumped into each other, Will knows that you’re just as in love with him as he is with you.
Big Fan of Will! Get added to his tag list!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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nellycanwrite · 2 years ago
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An Order: a Fic Preview
Preview for Part 2 of “A Request”  ||  Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader
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Summary: Your kingdom was at stake. Your thoughts are conflicted, your duties now weigh heavily on your shoulders, and the expectations of being K’uk’ulkan’s daughter puts you at risk as you try to talk with Princess Shuri of Wakanda. But you never had to worry—not when your lover, Attuma, was by your side to give you counsel.
Or, in which Attuma would soon realize that his own counsel would put you in jeopardy—bloodied and near death in his arms as you gave him your first order as princess.
Rating: 16+ || Viewer Discretion is Advised.
Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics. 
Part 1  ||  Part 2 (Preview)  || Part 3
Edit: Part 2: An Order has been posted! Check it out here!
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“I do not wish to kill the scientist, Attuma, nor do I wish for war.”
He paused, the only sound from the throne room were the hums of the vibranium sun and the slow moving currents from the tide. You looked up to him as he shifted ever so slightly, the grip on your shoulder only tightening.
And after a few beats of silence, he asked.
“Why?”
Why indeed, you wondered.
You were sure you were prepared for war. You were sure you were ready to fight for your nation and reclaim the land that you rightfully owned.
But something was holding you back.
“I do not wish for violence. And I pity her, that is all. She is a child whose work was stolen and discredited for. Her mind is great, but she is unaware of the damages she would have caused. And…and I do not wish for more deaths, especially one that is as young as her.” You glanced at your hands—the hands that held blood of countless surface dwellers. A necessary sacrifice, but it did not mean it felt right.
“Your mercy is worthy of praise, my love. But one wrong move will lead to our discovery. It will lead to war. One surface dweller's life for the life of your kingdom—those are the options you have to choose from.” 
He swam in front of you and knelt before your feet, his headpiece now lay discarded beside him as he rested his head on your lap. You wove your fingers through his dark tresses; they were soft as silk.
“Is there no other way?” You asked him. He trailed his fingers up your lap and took hold of your hands, his lips lazily kissing your knuckles.
“Perhaps not. But the king sees this as the best course of action. Believe in his plans; believe in your father.”
Your head dove down into deep thought, your hands mindlessly playing with Attuma's long hair. He leaned into your touch as you massaged his scalp, the delightful rumble from his chest giving you enough motivation to continue.
“...If that is what you think, then I shall listen.” He peered up to you with those fierce eyes that only softened for you. 
“And what have you chosen?”
You swallowed the lump on your throat, the decision weighing heavily on your shoulders.
“I choose to trust you and my father. It might be against my heart, but if it is for Talokan, if war is necessary for our people, then it shall be done.”
He slowly rose and took your cheeks into his hands, his forehead now pressing against yours. In those moments did you relish the assurances from his touches, his thumbs unraveling the lines of worry from your troubled brow.
“There is no need for you to spill blood. You only need to give the order and I will do it for you. This is why I am here; it is my purpose.”
You shook your head and placed a chaste kiss on the side of his lips. He chased you as you retreated, your hands now finding purchase on his strong jaw.
“Thank you, Attuma. But I need to do this on my own.” He snapped his eyes to yours indignantly.
“In princesa—”
“I can't keep depending on you, my love. I want to become a better partner for you, to become strong and protect you as well. What kind of a queen would I be if I can't protect my future king?”
Attuma felt a thousand sparks lifting him up to the heavens as you said so. You were strong, stronger than you would admit to yourself. But you always doubted yourself; doubted your abilities, your choices, your authority. 
But now, he was honored to witness the paradigm shift of your conviction. It was like the embers he had heard stories of in his time on water—where it was hotter than the vibranium sun that shone, more persistent and brighter than the light from the luminescent algae of your father's hut, and it burned so elegantly while still maintaining its power.
You were beautiful. Strong.
How could he ever say no to you?
“Then let me have the honor to witness your first steps of your will. I want to see you shine, my love. My queen.”
You laughed and drew him closer to you, his body now suspended into the water until his eyes were level with yours, and his lips now mere inches away from you. His arms trapped you in your throne—but you were more willing to submit to him and held prisoner to his affections if it meant you'd spend a lifetime in his arms.
“I am not queen yet.”
He smirked, his leg snaking between yours; anything to be closer to you. 
“In my heart, you already are.”
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Wanna get tagged when Part 2 comes out? Tell me in the comments!
Taglist: @lilchickensworld,  @kellzsthings ,  @sodonuthideout,  @vilentia,  @llamayom,  @violet-19999
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sweetsweetsstrawberry · 4 months ago
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⋆˚࿔ Welcome 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Hey guys!! I’ve been gone for a couple months now! Been in a weird place mentally, but missing tumblr a lot so I’ve come back (and found my account got Td while I was away) so here’s my new account!! ♡ ♡
A little about myself┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
I am 22 years old, from Australia! I’m currently unemployed but studying full time at university doing a dual bachelors degree in psychology + counselling! I love also reading, nature, and the gym! I go camping a lot, I love the beach so so much, but also hiking to water walls and through the bush! I really try to be a positive person and try my best to be kind to myself, but I do struggle with some mental health problems such as anxiety, and my €d. I have a cat and her name is Ivy, I’m obsessed with her she’s so cute and cuddly and sweet (I might post about her a bit!)
Tw for my account ༊*·˚
- I mainly have this new account as an outlet (rant account). In the past I’ve posted f00d diaries, and my rules, and tips but I’m going to try and shy away from doing that on this account!
- I will post rants about my anxiety
- I will speak of f00d issues, di3t, gym, tracking macros, tracking c4lories, and body image (I will attempt to not post numbers but sometimes I may! And if I do, there will be a tw dedicated to it!
- There may be mention of other mental health struggles such as depression as well
I do not promote €d’s at all!! But it is something I struggle with so those themes may come up a lot on this account! I am here for anyone seeking help, my dm’s are open!
As I am a fully grown adult I would really appreciate it if minors DNI and seek help from those you trust if you can ♡
I am iffy on having my stats up but I will just add them to this introduction post for now (might remove later!) so tw stats below the cut
.❀。My stats ❀°。
Hw (highest I’ve ever gotten): 68kg (149.6 lbs)
Sw (from my most recent hw/ the current relapse): 60kg (132 lbs)
Lw (past): 42kg (92.4 lbs)
Cw: 50kg (110 lbs)
I was 47kg last time I was on this app, so yes I have gained a bit, but alas
I don’t currently have a certain gw! Usually it would be 40-45kg (88-99 lbs) but I am actively trying to build up muscle at this current phase in my life, so I guess maintenance is my current goal for now! (Wanting to lose f4t still but gain muscle and see what happens - always just lost f4t but still looked f4t to me so I wanna see if building muscle will give me the look I have been chasing my entire existence lol)
I’m more obsessing over macros at the moment, my rules for myself are heavily macro based rather than c4ls! Though, never consuming over my maintenance c4ls is important to me too, so I’ll post a nightly update on whether I was in a deficit or surplus from my c4l maintenance :))
Thank you for reading ♡ ̆̈༝༚༝༚
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disorganizedkitten · 2 years ago
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#girlsprotectinggirls one shot fic question! Sorta. Are you a fan of Marvel at all? Or any other superhero media? Because I love that forum system, and thought it would be amazing if it connected all sorts of heroes. What other fandoms do you think could use a support system for their heroes?
OKAY SO I absolutely am! Not enough of a fan to always know what's going on, but I have my series and universes (marvel rising is the most recent) and can recognize most of the art.
Have you read You have (1) New message by chipanddealer? Because it's very *mwah* and definitely affects my answer; but yeah! I think if I went around and just added in all my favorites, I'd find a way for there to be a SuperHero one and a Hero one, because I love the trope of 'hero of the story is overwhelmed and meets retired hero from another story and gets mentored'. I love it so much.
Specifically, I think my ideal chat fic at this very moment would include Jackie Chan Adventures, Miraculous Ladybug, (Harry Potter? maybe?) and Danny Phantom, but just a large one for fun would definitely be a huge mishmash. Harry Potter, Trollhunters, Marvel (rising), Miraculous, JCA, DP, some nice Kim Possible but she has to either be the youngest and just starting her website or the oldest and the mom hero, and maybe some Gargoyles? There's not really a Young Hero(TM) in Gargoyles but there are a lot of traumatized old as dirt men and women who have some nice commentary on loyalty, betrayal, and living through grief.
Oh and Scooby-Doo. A chatfic with any of the superheroes-gotta-have-a-plot and scooby-doo-we-invented-and-immortalized-the-episodic-formula would be wild in the best way.
As an actual 'heroes' forum I definitely want it- not quite open but very near to it? Like, there should be a spot for 'I just did a thing and now I think I might be starting a vigilante career what do I do' and a bunch of other new and old heroes can pop in with Things I Wish I'd Known When I Started (like a stretching routine!), and that's a lot more accessible than the rest, which in #girlsupportinggirls is for "vetted" heroes and vigilantes, and idk if I ever decided how they were vetted but it was a thing.
Oh and winx club should be in this.
So glad this isn't an essay there's probably no clear form of thought, but back to the original question of "what other media do I think could do with a support system" and the answer is All Of Them. Except Stranger Things, because while they absolutely do and I haven't watched the series through, I do have to forever give them props for having a parent who not only cares but actively involves herself in the things that are threatening her children, without being an oblivious/clueless/useless/gag character who just causes more problems.
Which is why a non "hero" forum would have a lot of people - Percy Jackson and Magnus Chase characters, for one, because they could do with support and - ooh DP/MC crossover - grow up to be some pretty sick mentor candidates. "I didn't wanna be a halfblood; I didn't ask to be a hero seeking praise," lives rent free in my brain and likely forever will.
I read a pretty awesome Trollhunters/Miraculous pen pal fic once back when trollhunters was the only Tales of Arcadia out, which was lovely, but since we're at it 3Below/DC would be a very nice crossover, there are plenty of aliens to play support and grief counselling.
Um. I lost where I was going with this, I'm very sure, but we should add a Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys/Scooby-Doo either chatfic or casefic to the list of things that exist in a perfect world and also maybe my to-do list.
Okay FINAL list for the current 'perfect' "someone support these kids who are doing their best/thrown in the deep end/need a hug desperately" is Kim Possible, Nancy Drew, Scooby-Doo, Hardy Boys, and maybe Winx Club for the well-adjusted and likely give the best advice, probably play a mentor role; Dectective Comics, Marvel, Danny Phantom, Miraculous Ladybug, Trollhunters/Tales of Arcadia, and Harry Potter for the 'have advice but as peers and also are definitely using solving your problems as a distraction from their own'; Winx Club (the anime), Gargoyles, and Jackie Chan Adventures could be in either of these, and technically I guess so could Marvel and Detective Comics, but Winx and JCA have much more 'they grow up and get their crap together' vibes than DC and Marvel. Harry Potter could also also go in the mentor category which would be lovely, a prophecy child who survived their prophecy travelling the world/the interwebs and supporting other child heroes and chosen ones however he can.
Gargoyles and Batman should definitely meet sometime, it's been a while since I watched Gargoyles but I feel like they could learn from each other.
...I forgot the riordanverse but you know what it's fine they can be there and just log in once every three apocalypses.
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pentacass · 2 years ago
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For your swtor girls; 💢 😨 💤🌙🌱🎁
thenk for the food nonny 😩🙏🍚 Ael and Ves coming up!! (this got a little long...sry uwu)
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💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?
She will try to defuse and solve every argument brought up to her. Not a bad habit, per se, but she always remains so calm and receptive to the grievances or accusations thrown at her that it rubs some people the wrong way - they think she’s patronising them, where they had expected anger or self-defense.
😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?
When she was younger, an orphan on the streets, it’s flight. The very first time she fought, was when she’d been stranded on an Imperial-controlled planet, a lone padawan hunted for sport by a Sith Lord who want her as an acolyte. One close encounter made her snap, and she started hunting the hunters in return. After her rescue though, the visceral thrill she’d felt from her kills haunted and scared her.
Close counselling and guidance from her masters helped her come to terms with it, and for some time she trained and ingrained the ‘fight’ instinct into her bones. If she doesn’t stand her ground against injustice and cruelty, then what will happen to her and those who stand behind her?
💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?
Ael sleeps easily most of the time - she can meditate and clear her mind pretty well. Only when something troubles her deeply does she find it difficult to fall asleep.
A safe environment is enough to help her sleep. Having friends around is a plus. As a young Jedi (during the JK storyline), she and Kira slept in the same bed in her quarters on restless nights, drawing comfort from each other’s closeness. It remains the same now, when they’ve reunited and found life partners in each other.
🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?
To lay down her lightsabers, and build a sanctuary for others. Most likely a Jedi enclave or creche, for teaching and training, along with a refuge for civilians in need, providing shelter and healing. In essence, a community of Jedi and civilians living in harmony. 
It is the galaxy’s most ill-fated dream, coming from the Jedi who struck down the Sith Emperor thrice, whose blades will always be called for in battle. The Alliance is the closest she’d come, but Ael would not give everything up just to achieve it. She recognises that her skill in battle will always be needed, but finds satisfaction in the fact that, among the many she saves, some may go on to fulfil her dream in her stead - building schools and shelters to benefit their own communities.
🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?
There was a trader who’d visit her creche regularly to deliver supplies. He dressed modestly and behaved the same, but his pride shone in the sleek, chrome-coloured speeder he owned. It was beautiful, the coolest thing ever to show up at the creche. So the padawans and younglings came together...and dared one another to steal it for a joyride.
Ael was the first (and last) to pull it off. She’d climbed onto the speeder, activated it with the keys she’d swiped during the trader’s moment of inattention. Untrained, she unknowingly revved the engines to max and took off into the horizon, screaming and clinging onto the handlebars for dear life, with Jedi Masters chasing after her in vain.
When her panic wore off, Ael fumbled with the controls to slow the speeder down, then steered it back towards the temple in clumsy arcs. Her masters immediately descended on her with chides while checking her over for injuries. The trader just chuckled, noticing the shaken, yet still longing gaze she shot at the speeder. ‘Got a lil speed devil in the making, huh.’
And she does become a speed devil, years later in the Alliance, when she finally gets a speeder of her own. She spends much time tuning and modifying it so it’s race-worthy, and enters competitions for the thrill of it. 
🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?
Any kind, really. She always happy to receive presents! But she does appreciate functional gifts - tools, gadgets that she can use. (e.g. Kira gave her a premium speeder tuning toolkit and she went absolutely nuts with it.)
She’s pretty good at gifting. Meaning she’ll review how you’ve been lately, take a guess at what you’re missing or will be happier with, then gives you that. Anything she gifts is always aimed at improving your quality of life. If not, then just something that puts a smile on your face.
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💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?
She will always turn away offers of help - it’s a knee-jerk reaction. She is hyper independent, and it’s a struggle to give her help that she needs. (Ashara having to force a breather mask on her when her lungs were damaged, etc.) Even if you manage to force it on her, she’ll scowl at you for a few days after.
😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?
It’s in her nature to ‘fight, fight, fight’. Slavery managed to whip it out of her for a bit, but it came back to her in a spectacular, violent fashion. In the Sith academy (before Korriban), she was targeted by a gang of pureblood Sith apprentices for being a slave brought in personally by the academy master.
After months of beating her down, making her life hell, they sauntered into the mess hall one afternoon and casually flipped her food tray onto the floor - and she lost it. They died in a storm of lightning that scorched the floor. Ves stared down at their charred bodies in silence, then broke into a giggle that escalated into an unhinged laugh. She laughed, and never looked back.
💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?
Oh no, she doesn’t fall asleep easily. She often dreads going to sleep. Nightmares occur pretty frequently for her, and about memories she’d rather forget. Most of the time, she will work herself to the bone, so that she can fall asleep easier and have no dreams at night.
She once took tranquilisers to help her sleep, but weaned herself off them, and turned to work instead. Being on the ship with her crew helps a lot. Having Lana with her is the best thing to ever happen to Vestra’s sleeping habits - she knows she’s safe and protected by a strong Sith who would sooner die than let anything happen to her.
🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?
To be the galaxy’s meanest, sexiest bitch ok that’s a lie. She just wants to be herself again; she wants to be who she would’ve been, if the Sith and slavers hadn’t ruined her life. But she knows it is impossible to return to who she was, and she fears that, even if such a return were feasible, she would change so much that she’d lose everyone around her.
So she doesn’t act on it at all - stewing and tearing herself apart inside until Lana intervenes, and convinces her to seek help from the Barsen’thor (who is a trained psychiatrist and therapist). She goes kicking and screaming, but she gets better. She learns to accept what happened to her, and lets herself grow from who she is, now, into someone she can look in the mirror and be proud of.
🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?
Perhaps not the most vivid (she’s repressed most of them lol), but among the most comforting are the times she’d spent under the viewport of her parents’ ship, gazing up into the dark of space, occasionally dotted by stars or a distant planet.
At times she’d be seated in her father’s lap as he worked at the pilot’s console, always cradled in one protective arm, falling asleep to his soft hum. At times she’d be with her mother, listening to stories of her escapades on the planet they’re orbiting, bursting with questions and imagining herself in her mom’s daring smuggler trader’s boots.
Ves doesn’t think on her childhood memories actively - and definitely not willingly. But there is a reason she feels at home in the captain’s chair, gazing through the viewport of her ship.
🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?
She’s pretty numb to most gifts, having received countless lavish ones in her time as Dark Councilor, all aimed at courting her favour. Only sentimental gifts will really move her - the wooden tooka cat statuette Lana bought from a street market because it reminded her of Ves, the beaded bracelets handcrafted in Togruti fashion by Ashara. If you put thought into it, for her, she will cherish it.
She’s really good at gift giving. She gives stuff that will mean a lot to the giftee personally, and has the wealth to make it luxurious, top quality. e.g. for Xalek, a traditional Kaleesh hunting knife given only to the best warriors of the tribe. For Aelirra (the Commander), the latest Roche speeder that will put professional racing rigs to shame.
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mbbsabroadexperts · 8 months ago
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Chasing the Dream: MBBS in India and the NEET UG 2024 Exam
The Big Day Arrives! Today, the May 5th, 2024, marks a crucial moment for lakhs of aspiring doctors in India. It's NEET UG 2024 exam day! NEET UG is a highly competitive entrance exam it is the gateway to the coveted MBBS degree, the first step on the path to becoming a doctor in India.
Why MBBS in India?
India has a rich medical tradition and a place of many medical discoveries, an MBBS degree from a recognized university of India is well-respected worldwide. Here are some reasons why studying MBBS in India is a compelling choice:
Affordability: Compared to the high costs associated with medical education in many Western countries, MBBS in India is significantly more affordable.
Quality Education: India has a well-established network of medical colleges offering excellent medical education with a strong focus on practical clinical skills.
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Fulfilling Career: The medical profession in India offers immense satisfaction and the opportunity to make a positive impact on people's lives.
Conquering NEET UG 2024
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Educated Guessing: If unsure, make an educated guess, but only if you can narrow down the options.
Beyond the Exam
For those appearing today, remember - NEET UG is just the first hurdle. Stay optimistic, and don't be discouraged if the results aren't what you hoped for. There are other paths to a medical career, or you can always reattempt the exam next year with even stronger preparation. There is no capping on appearance in NEET UG Exam.
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We wish the very best to all NEET UG 2024 aspirants! Remember, your dedication and hard work will pave the way to a fulfilling career in medicine.
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thequeendomhq · 8 months ago
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NAME. Alessia Hart AGE & BIRTH DATE. 26 & April 13th, 2998 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her NATIONALITY. Iskaran SPECIES. Witch FACTION. Hidden Ones OCCUPATION. Street Performer FACE CLAIM. Bia Arrantes
biography
( tw: death )
Sabine was the daughter of Lysaran merchants. She’d meant to simply pass through Iskaldrik and the lands so hostile to her people. But when the lonely blacksmith with a babe in his arms caught her eye, the Lysaran witch had the unexpected pleasure of falling in love with the love of her life and with the son of his that she would so easily call her own. So she remained. Sabine, the merchant’s daughter, and Asbjorn the blacksmith welcomed their own daughter into their family not even a year from the first moment that they had laid eyes on each other. This was a difficult place for girls, even more difficult for those who held magic. Warnings were what her neighbor, Runa, would give Sabine because she herself had lived the same fears as a faiman who’d taken refuge in the woods all her life. Observant and cunning but wholly unsuspecting, the widow Runa had survived long enough to her formative years and remained to give those same warnings to Sabine’s husband and children long after her friend had been taken to the mines. She was the one who counseled Asbjorn to take them to another village where none had known the family before and where Runa had once lived many years ago. Months later, when it was safe, Runa followed them. She whispered her hopes that Alessia and her brother, Alrik, would one day leave the frosted woods behind and journey to the place that Sabine had been from - the Queendom of Lysara.
Alessia did not share those dreams at first. Her father had taught them strength and resilience so the youngest of the Hart family had those traits in spades. She did not fear the leering of the men and she did not bow to the expectations of the small-minded village, not the way her adopted auntie, Runa, did. She only sat still to watch the mesmerizing flames of her father's forge or deep in the woods where the old faiman instructed her and her brother how to control their magic. Alessia chased horses, losing her shoes in the snow and returning home, shivering barefoot but with a grin that was larger than life. Asbjorn would say she was born from the flames of his forge and not from either of her parents. Alrik seemed to easily blend himself into their society, but his sister figured it couldn’t have ever been so difficult for a man who had every opportunity. Alessia instead escaped into the woods with leaves in her hair, bending down to the water's edge to learn how the currents moved and how to fight the winds when up in the highest trees. It wasn't long before the currents and the breeze began bowing to her voice, or before the trees bent their branches to carry her up. Alessia was careful to be wary of Witchers. She escaped deep into the places that Runa showed her, foul places or places littered with fanged predators that most knew little of and cared less to patrol around.
There, alone and in the wilderness, the elements and their power called to her while Alrik bent over the forge with their father. But when she was not alone it was always her brother who Alessia avidly searched for. Barely a few months younger than Alrik, she didn't let him run ahead and instead willed her feet to carry her to his side instead of behind him, even when his legs grew longer than her’s. Runa begged that Alessia find a good and trusted husband, if not for love than for her own safety as a woman of Iskaldrik with magic. She would be more inconspicuous as a wife and mother. Alessia instead decided to find boys that taught her things. She seduced a boy into teaching her to perfect her archery. She found a performer's son and learned tricks at his side with Alrik, laughing as they all walked on their hands and flipped over high branches. Life was a joy, as joyous as it could be while Runa continuously warned her that she could not be a child forever and that her mother would have wanted her to be safe. Only days after her 15th birthday, Alessia argued that she would not be like Runa - weak, looking for a man to chain at her side just so society would accept her. She stormed away to hunt, only to return to the news that their auntie hadn’t been seen since.
Alessia blamed herself, torturously wondering for months what had happened until her father finally came home with the news that he had traveled to another village to obtain, one both Alessia and Runa frequented every other month to buy crops for their gardens and sell their animal skins. Runa had been caught with magic. No details, no idea how she could have been so careless after so many decades of hiding her abilities so well. The Witchers refused any more information but it was clear enough that she had used lies to keep the Harts safe. No one came for them, no one looked at them twice or even knew Runa had been taken away at a village across the river. The old faiman somehow had fought to her last, ensuring Alrik and Alessia would be spared any suspicion of involvement with her. The family of three packed up and moved even further away where none would know them and they began anew. Alessia finally learned to heed Runa once she was gone, a spark of that life within her extinguished with that stillness that she adopted.
She was quieter and calmer in their new home but her brother would not be fooled that it was just the maturity of age, and even their father saw the misery that had settled over the once force of nature that his daughter had been. Only her brother would see that the misery had only made his sister more formidable, leading her to take their magic more seriously. Though there was no one to teach the young witches, Alessia hid in the caves by their home and wrote in journals stuffed between rocky walls, collecting knowledge, practicing in terrible places the Witchers wouldn’t be bothered to patrol. No longer using what she knew to play and satisfy her relentless curiosity but instead to become a weapon that could protect herself and her brother from ever meeting her mother or Runa’s fates. She adopted a careful nature. She bit her tongue until it was bloody and made half moon bruises on her palms with her nails when the Witchers came for others, knowing her time had not yet come to fight.
She hoped it never would but the time came; the time came two months after her 18th birthday. Her father's blood splattered on their wooden walls and her brother wielding his menacing blade. The Witchers laughed as her magic was silenced. A fragile young woman made powerless, no magic surfacing and a bow snapped in two. Alessia was backed into the wall, looking towards her brother as he was tackled to the ground. There was no hope left for the two of them, already overwhelmed by the Witchers that had taken her mother and their adopted aunt. She cried, seemingly giving up and falling to the ground as they reached to cuff her. But in the carriage on the way to the mines, Alessia's mouth was curled and bloody. Within the flaming homestead that they left behind, the ear of a Witcher had been spat to the floor. The bitten skin turned to ash with the Hart family’s home.
Darkness and labour would make up Alessia's life for a long time after her family's life burned to the ground. Hopelessness tugged at the corner of her heart but she could not let it penetrate, not when she saw her brother falling victim to the same dark devastation. Perhaps her mother and her auntie had been taken here and did not survive, but Alrik would not be next. Alessia's spite kept her alive, as well as the innate desire to prevent her brother from meeting the same fate as so many of their kind. It kept her hoping even as the hope seemed more like a madness than anything else. She reminded her brother of days long gone, she murmured rumors about Lysara even if they all screamed at the young witch to forget that freedom would ever be an option for them again. But it was. For the first time in ages, the sun bathed her skin under the devastation of riots. Eventually, Alessia grit her teeth to prevent the sobs and the howls of pain as she ran with her brother's hand in her's. They ran, scaling mountains to freedom. She waited until night fell, alone with her brother on the snow high above with the corpse of a Witcher and beasts miles away where she and Alrik left them. Her feet were blistered, her hands were bloody, her stomach empty and her eyes swollen from the tears that she'd let fall in utter silence. As the full moon glowed high above them, Alessia thought of all the injustice done and she screamed at the Gods.
Even now, she would have no answer to the question of how they survived. Somehow she and her brother had, pulled on by an instinct to survive and something more. When The Old Woman in the Mountain found them, Alessia had little questions for her. There was hope and there was purpose there where once Alessia had nothing left. The young witch grasped it all with greedy hands. The Hidden Ones molded them, changed them even more, but the siblings had been imposing from the moment that life was breathed back into their two pale and shivering bodies. Limber, cunning and children of warrior-blood, the surviving Harts proved themselves suitable candidates to become servants for Fate and all its machinations. Alessia thought of the mother she had never been given the chance to know. She thought of auntie Runa, who had been stronger than they had ever given her credit for. She thought of her poor father who had died without a blade in his hand. She thought of children and parents taken away by those cold-hearted Witchers. She thought of those she found pale with death’s kiss beneath the darkness of the mines, still clutching pickaxes with skeletal hands. She bared her teeth as the knife sliced her wrist, not with pain but with rage. Her chest heaved and Alessia found herself smiling like she once had with the Witcher’s blood in her mouth, but now her own dripped on the altar of The Old Woman in the Mountain with a promise. Daughter of peasants, blacksmiths, and warriors. Student of fighters. Witch of the elements. Escaped prisoner of the mines. A Hidden One. There would be no mourners and no funerals for her and her brother when Hel finally took them, but if she couldn’t have love in this life then she would have power, power needed to lend those made powerless.
personality
+ quick-witted, resilient, loyal – stubborn, hot-headed, audacious
played by dany. est. he/him.
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12/8/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription
Romans 4-7
Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill, today is the 8th day of December. Welcome everybody. So good to be here with you. What a joy and a complete honor, privilege to be reading the word of God for us together with all of you and individually- of course collectively and in this beautiful community. We're continuing in the book of Romans today reading chapters 4 through 7. And this week we're reading the Christian Standard Bible. Romans chapter 4.
Commentary:
I am going to need my husband to try to fill this part. This is a bit of a head spin to try to pull all of this apart and since this is chronological and we're reading it in chronological order, if you have the God of your Story there are beautiful breakdowns of nearly every chapter that we just read and they are really worthwhile explanations of what we just took on. And yes what we just read and digested and took in it's a lot and this is where a lot of debate comes in and theological doctrinal differences and even though the book of Romans in itself is very complex some of these messages can be very simple at the core, too. I know a lot of people completely disregard the Old Testament because we do not live under old law/ Jesus came to fulfill the law but if we're not careful with that wording I hear people say Jesus came to abolish the law. Jesus came to fulfill the law and one of the points that Paul is trying to make is it was not the law alone it was actually faith. And going back to the very beginning at the beginning of the reading to Abraham, it was not his obedience to the law that brought him through, it was his faith in God. And then maybe to carry that just a little bit further the intention of the law wasn't to show how right people who are getting it, but rather how wrong people were getting it as they brought sacrifices of their sins to consider the weight, consider the cost. Maybe maybe we won't do that next time if we have to burn the fat of a calf after we have slaughtered it. Just real quick like so I think what I'm gathering is the essential message that Paul just laid out that while his grace is sufficient for us, should we just keep on sinning so God can just show off his endless matchless supply of grace? And Paul answers that absolutely not. And I think it's such a great question to ask and it's such a great question to answer at the same time. The point being if we are new creations it should cause us to walk into something new and leave the old behind. Leave old patterns behind, leave old habits behind, leave our pride behind. And something I am learning and counseling is to find gratitude in everything- look for the place of gratitude, what are you grateful for in this moment? I believe without gratitude of the mercy of God, without sitting with the weight of the cost of the price that Jesus paid so that we may be free men and free women then we may just become entitled men and entitled women walking around with an air of demand- an expectation thinking we can go on doing anything we want to because we're free from the law and under God's grace. And Paul's answer to that is while you are not a slave to the law, you are a slave to anything you are giving yourself to that is outside the obedient leading to righteousness. I guess what I've learned is if I'm not seeking righteousness then what in the world literally am I seeking? What am I chasing after? What am I thirsting for? And I got to be real honest this year. I have had to have the painful realization of all of the empty wells that I have tried to draw from to fill myself some days to feel loved, accepted and some days to be seen. And it's a real hard thing when someone points that out to you and it's as simple as instant pudding but you totally missed it and it feels like wasted time and it feels heavy considering the wreckage, the aftermath. And so I am grateful today for these words from Paul that correct us and encourage us. And I am also extremely grateful for the grace of God that lets us simply begin again anytime we need to start over. I think the point of a do-over is to do it over but to do it differently than we've done it once we catch the errors in our way. 
Prayer:
So Jesus, we are so grateful for these words today so grateful for the insurmountable grace that we can't fathom. But what I do pray God is that we would not take advantage of such a great gift that we would consider the cost, the act, the suffering, the price of that gift given so freely and then it might cause us to step out of the old and walk into the newness that is you- seeking righteousness. That we would stop thirsting for things that cannot quench or only you can. So I pray that we would stop and realize the sources that we are chasing- our identity, our fulfillment, our filling and we would run nowhere else except for into the loving strong arms of God almighty. And I pray this now in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 
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Community Prayer Line:
Good morning. I'm just getting up early and gave details of a friend and his wife who was a long time minister who recently retired with his wife who's been active in Christian ministry. And on retirement his wife suffering with the health and uplift and praise to the Lord God Almighty because when I spoke to them recently she had to undergo radiotherapy and chemotherapy. And added complications but with the prayers from around the world prayers from family prayers from friends and prayers from their church, friends good Lord has seen that she's been able to recover and when I last spoke to them she was clear of the cancer. So we can give thanks to the good Lord because he knows that we know that he looks after his sheep irrespective of where we are, what we're doing, whether we've gone astray, he's still there for us and he walks with us each and every day. So all those suffering from health and health issues you know keep praying. Keep praying to the Lord my faith that he will deliver you and we know that he walks with us every day and he the good Lord takes us to his breast so we give thanks for the DAB and chronological family. Thank you. 
Hello beautiful DABC listeners. This is Asia calling from the City of Angels and I just wanted to throw her up especially in the season when the spirit feels so strong for God. I want to come before you father and lift up our sister Emmy and our sister and me has a very young daughter who has a heart that has a small hole that needs to seal up so she doesn't need surgery and we pray father God that you lay your hand on this beautiful beautiful infant's heart, a child created in your image Lord God. And that you would heal her heart father God that she wouldn't need surgery. Lord we pray and ask and intercede this blessing father God in this prayer father God for this little girl. And we also pray for Emme and her husband Lord. We pray that her husband will have a change of heart Lord God, that you will open his eyes. Give him eyes to see her the way of to be a man of God and to love his. He can pick up Emme when he gets home from work and lavish her with hugs and kisses as she deserves making her feel like the beautiful wonderful wife that we're sure that she is. And we ask this in the name of Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior. Amen. Emme, I also want to add that I heard a really wonderful podcast a Biblical counselor talking about a similar situation and he encouraged the woman to speak her husband's love language whatever that was for six months and see if there was any change. If that speaks into your heart let it live love and blessings to you and encouragement. I'm not a married woman but I can imagine how hard marriage is and and the way this woman even though she was ready to leave, that she just gave it this one last shot and you know it took awhile to have an effect but her husband had an incredible turnaround and I pray that will happen for you, too. Amen. 
I'm so excited to calling this morning. The Lord is good and his mercies endure forever. My name is Lovely and I'm calling from France and I'm calling in to reach out for a mother. She said she has two boys. I forgot your name. I'm always too forgetful about names. So she has two boys, the second one is Victor that he's finding it difficult, difficult to get a job and he can't drive but he can ride his bicycle and all of us praying for Victor for this girl that's so ability in every disability he will come through for him in the name of Jesus Christ. Lord we still reach out for how we use has the point of contact reaching for reaching out for every mother every mother that has a challenge. Children we standing in for you and God will show you mercy and very soon God will pray to grant you the strength you need to carry on on this blessing has given to you in Jesus name. Sisters I love you all. I love you and I love you.
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dailyaudiobible · 1 year ago
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9/19/2023 DAB Transcript pt1
Isaiah 30:12-33:9, Galatians 5:1-12, Psalm 63:1-11, Proverbs 23:22
Today is the 19th day of September, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and it is, as always, fantastic to be here together with you today and for these moments that we have around the Global Campfire together. This is my favorite place to be. So, it is wonderful to be here with you because being here alone isn't my favorite place to be, being here together is, as we take another step forward together. And our next step leads us back into the book of Isaiah and at this point we will reach chapter 33, that's the center of the book of Isaiah. So, today we will reach essentially the halfway point. So, let's dive in, Isaiah chapter 30 verse 12 through 33 verse 9.
Commentary:
Okay, so, we’ve talked about this before with Isaiah, it can feel difficult to follow because it's not just this one cohesive narrative story. So, it seems like the book is jumping all over the place, that’s because it's not a single narrative story. It's a collection of the utterances of God, that Isaiah spoke, and they didn’t all happen at the same time, they didn’t all happen for the same reason, and they weren’t all spoken to the same people. So, we can find frustration in trying to follow along with what's happening. But if we step back though, we see a prophetic arc. Like, we may see trouble and even doom forecast in the words of Isaiah. But as these prophetic messages go, there’s an alternative, there's a way to turn toward hope. There is a way to move toward restoration and at sometimes Isaiah’s prophesying like, you're gonna actually like, it’s gone too far. So, you will reap what you've sown because you've sown it and it's harvest time. You…you will have to go through a season of correction, your enemies will be upon you, you set this up. On the other side of that, I will still be waiting for you. Like, I will never stop working toward your restoration. And we saw some of that, we saw some of that shift in what we were reading today as we reached the center of the book. And in truth what Isaiah is saying in our reading today is not something that we can go okay, that gives me some context for the ancient people, it's something we can take right now into our hearts and lives. So, I quote from Isaiah, “you will be delivered by returning and resting. Your strength will lie in quiet confidence.” Think about those words for a moment, those may be the words that we have been searching to hear. They may be the counsel that is exactly right for this moment. Isaiah’s saying, calm down, return to God and find rest. And from that place of rest, you will rediscover strength. I'm taking that one on board, like I'm, I’m taking that one into my heart right now, because Isaiah gives us the alternative. And I quote, “you say, no. We will escape on horses. Therefore, you will escape, and we will ride on fast horses. But those who pursue you will be faster.” Okay, so, we’re sitting here at a crossroads. There is a path that would lead to quiet confidence and strength in the Almighty and there is a path that would rely on our own strength, and we will run, that's what we will do, we will run, trying to outrun whatever is chasing us. But whatever is chasing us will be faster than we can be in our own strength. Oh, guys like, do we not already know this to be true, just by the example of our own existence. But if we’re convinced that we’re stronger than God, and then we got this and that He's not really paying attention to the minute details and the nuances that we are, and so, we have to do this ourselves then Isaiah says where it goes. And I quote, “1000 will flee at the threat of one. At the threat of five you will flee until you remain like a solitary pole on a mountaintop or a banner on a hill.” Right, a single solitary waving flag, the only thing that's left.
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year ago
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"COURT SENDS FAURIA UP TO STAND TRIAL," Hamilton Spectator. September 2, 1933. Page 7. ---- Charge of Escaping Custody Has Been Laid ---- Turnkeys Testify As To the Incident --- Declare Accused Made Break for Liberty ---- Charged with escaping from custody, Marian (Cal) Fauria, who is awaiting trial here on a charge of robbery of the Mount Hamilton branch of the Royal Bank of Canada while armed last November, was committed for trial on the new charge by Deputy Magistrate James McKay in police court this morning. Fauria is also awaiting trial on a charge of holding up a bank in Toronto.
The first witness called this morning was Thomas Hickmott, chief turnkey at the Hamilton jail. His evidence was mostly formal to prove that Fauria was in legal custody. He also told of a report being made that Fauria has escaped and, as he entered the wood yard of the jail, Fauria was being brought back. When asked if Fauria had any right to be in the yard, the chief turnkey told Crown Attorney Ballard that the doctor had recommended fresh air for the prisoner.
Thomas Cairns, acting turnkey, told of being in charge of a squad of prisoners in the wood yard and of the entrance of a truck for a load of wood. When the truck left the yard. Turnkey Hillock was closing the gates and the witness took his eyes off the prisoners for a moment. When he looked back, Fauria was running hard.
"I made a dive for him, but missed," stated the witness. "Then he ran out on to Elgin street and on to Barton. He was brought back by Turnkey Hillock in the cab of the truck."
Turnkey Hillock told of the chase, and of catching the accused. He stated that the accused called him a vile name for catching him. The truck driver also gave evidence of the escape and of his own efforts to catch the accused. He had not heard the accused use any bad language.
Turnkeys Riley and Ince also gave evidence.
When arraigned, Fauria elected trial in the higher court and reserved his plea. He was not represented by counsel.
Material Witness Held as a material witness in the case of a charge of theft by trick against George Garuk, Toronto, William Kochan, 436 Adelaide street, Toronto, was remanded in custody until Garuk's case comes up on Tuesday. Garuk is charged with using the old "money game" to obtain $980 from Anton Mickelewski.
Appearing for sentence on charge of vagrancy, Oscar Hess, Willowgrove, was allowed to go, but was warned to keep out of the city. He was arrested by Constable Chinnery earlier in the week when he failed to give a satisfactory account of himself.
Pleading that he did not know that he had struck any person, Edward Newnham, 293 Wentworth street north, was acquitted on a charge of failing to return to the scene of an accident.
"I would not ask for his conviction on the evidence," said Crown-Attorney Ballard.
Charged with the theft of money and a watch from the person of one McPherson, Frank Badeau, 21 Market street, pleaded not guilty and was remanded for trial until next Saturday.
Charged by the Royal Canadian Mounted police with possession of a quantity of morphine, Stanley Gold, alias Crissikos, was again remanded until next Friday.
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nattikay · 5 years ago
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Just finished watching Trollhunters with my brother (who watched s1 before his two-year mission in Brazil, which was before s2 and 3 has been released, so was already familiar with it but just needed to catch up). He has declared that Merlin was actually one of his favorite characters.
@redkiteslike Just thought you’d like to know that you’re not completely alone lol. My dad likes the character too, though idk who his fav is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  
#my thoughts on merlin are...mixed#when I first watched the show before interacting with the fandom I was like ''eh idk about this guy he's not what I expected and kinda rude'#I guess the surprise of him not turning out to be the kind of caring mentor figure I for-some-reason-expected threw me#and left a slight bitter taste#then I came into the fandom and got blasted by the Hate Train#and was like ''wow if so many people hate him he must actually be worse than I thought'' and I started accepting him as an inherent butthole#but unfortunately a lot of the anti-merlin posts were closely tied with anti-troll jim#and as well all know troll jim is my BABIE and has been from the moment he woke upon that couch#so coming into the fandom to see my favorite character so frequently blasted made me sad :(#seemingly unlike the rest of the fandom I didn't view jim's transformation as an inherent abuse or mistake or overall bad thing#and as I watched and rewatched the series a few (see: many) times over#I felt like I understood more and more why Merlin is the way that he is/did what he did#and I...can't really blame him for handling things the way he did#while his methods with manhandling Jim were certainly harsh...the guy was acting on very short time#he knew what had to be done to help them win#and he knew he didn't have time to sit down and counsel and let the group debate#so he cut to the chase and Got It Done#was it the most ethical way to go about it? no#but again...given the situation...I...can't really blame him#people give him a lot of grief for the ''you are not enough'' thing but...he wasn't entirely wrong there is the thing#Jim had a lot of great qualities as a trollhunter but raw physical power was not one ofthem#and that was something he needed to survive--and win--the battle#anyways...basically...while Merlin still isn't my *fav* by a long shot#my dislike of him has gotten much MUCH milder over time#especially as I rewatched the show a few times and realized that a lot of that dislike was fueled more by the fandom than the show itself#I'm still not really ready to pick a side on the ''will he be an ally or a villain in Wizards??'' debate#honestly I wouldn't really be shocked with it going either way#but#I'm gonna wait and reserve my final judgement on his character for when we actually see Wizards#imma go ahead and admit: I no longer think merlin is That Bad™
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