#I am praying that this posts correctly at the time it is supposed to

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

CAMP DAY 1

As you all pile out of the bus, encumbered by way too much luggage and new friends, you notice a large screen sat inexplicably in the center of the entrance, under an archway that says "Camp Egg". It looks like you won't be able to enter until the video finishes playing.

As the video ends, Not-Cucurucho steps out from behind the large screen and wheels it away.

He returns with a stack of papers and, one by one, he distributes them to each of you, instructing you to read it.

Cucurucho- er, Not-Cucurucho, mentions that more camper may arrive while camp is still running.

Once again, he reminds you all that if you have any questions, that you should bring them to him.

He looks at each of you, one at a time, before finally saying:

"Please proceed to your cabins. You will recieve your bandana, and your counselor will help you unpack your bags and get settled."

"I hope you enjoy Camp Egg."

(Casting call! Poll - Yours truely. Ping - @hepbaestus . Áfonya- @semifontos . Pepper - @pikaeggs . Mia - @studio-stephen . Estella - @oozblob . Chip - @shrimpysstuff . Ribcage - @nameless-network . Soup - @grapesintomatosoup . Macron - @prismpanic . Blossom - @/eternal-nyx . Castor - @readbycrow . Floryn - @unqualified-therapist . Tala - @iminyourbookshelf . Constence - @lilliancdoodles )

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

My Feelings Were Not Great On September To October (And My Thoughts About Yandere Simulator)

[Note: Mature Readers/Audiences Only For This...also besides wanting to give my thoughts about the whole Yandere Simulator thing, I also have other stuff I want to talk about as well. also reading this is optional, so don't have to read this if you don't want to.]

I needed a bit more time, and well I did plan to sign back on around Monday and Tuesday of September like I said, but stuff happen...

I also decided to take a bit more time away, and yeah during those times I did work on some of my fanfics during that time.

also I have been kind of praying that the whole Yandere Simulator will be picked up by another game developers, because of the certain reasons....

I think that Yandere Dev, needs some time away to not just self reflect, but also heal.....there are some stuff I wrote that talks about the certain situation, which I had wrote some days ago this month...and well I think I could save it for later, you know....show those thoughts and feelings that have to do with the situation.

I'm not happy with some people who are only making the matter worse, and should understand that both parties are at fault.

and yeah, I hate the fact that he did do that, but if some people bothered to read his posts over at the place where it also mentions about the pause/hiatus of the game, they would understand the situation a bit better.....one of the things that I had prayed for, before he had announced he would be away...

is that he would take some time away and if I remember correctly, to heal and not make that same mistake again....which I'm pretty sure the stuff I wrote that I have saved [but not in the drafts here.]

is that I had prayed for him.....and well, he might learn from such a mistake, that ya can't just treat some gals as one of the guys.

and yeah, I'm peeved off at that girl....because in a logical view of the whole mess, she shouldn't of talked with him in the first place or thought he had feelings for her that go beyond platonic.

and even if it is different, it reminds me of a cousin of mine...

which once again, the situation is very different....

but it's just the way they acted that was so annoying and I suppose frustrating, my cousin had some kind of ego when it came to them believing all of those who were of the opposite gender wanted them and showed some kind of interest to them....

and yeah, it bug me so much at some point I ended up yelling at them.

once again, what happen then and the current situation of that mess where both parties are at fault, are two different and separate matters.

and yeah, there are some other stuff that has happen that made me feel not really all that happy....which makes me glad I'm Neo-Spiritual, well that is if some Toxic-Religious jerks don't end up ruining that for me and well, hopefully they don't....

I guess being Neo-Spiritual can have different meanings for anyone.

like yeah I'm a Defective Earth Angel, who still needs to stop procrastinating about that whole blood type test thing.

and yeah, I think the song "Born Without A Heart" by Faouzia...

fit the feelings that I feel at times....

and the feeling of wanting to punch Archangel Samael...

I don't care if I am not very tall, and I might not be very strong and well, when it comes to the whole mana and magic that could be in the human body, and even those with RH Negative and Positive blood type can have different levels of magic in them...

I guess it is possible I might be the weakest of Earth Angels.

and well I do use my gem bracelets to not just protect me from certain energies from people.....but I also use them as sealing charms and limiters......cause my being a bit paranoid when it comes to not wanting to end up like Carrie White from the Carrie Movie series, and even Alessa Gillespie from Silent Hill....

and well, even if I might be the weakest of Earth Angels,

I think praying for a dream-catcher to act as a shield and barrier for my room and keep working even when I have to leave my room, is one of the good things......and well, yeah the reason I had to use that dream-catcher again, even after having to take it down before was because of well some stuff that I wont get into right now...

but I have that dream-catcher hanging outside my room's door.

the reason for this, is so it can not only form a protective shield and barrier, to which I had prayed for by having it be on the door, wall, ceiling, floor and even at some of the windows.

the reason being is that.....I had a second close call, and yeah just like the first first close call there was the color gray....

but unlike the first one, it was a bit longer and I had to run...

and well there was this old man and even a woman who I think, protected me in a way.....I can't remember the old man's face, and I never saw the woman's face, but she had very long white hair, and I think she had pale skin.

I also have another dream-catcher that I am using over at my bed, so yeah, extra protection when I sleep.

it is possible that toxic-lust energy can be dangerous for some who have different type of empathic abilities.

even if you might not feel every feeling of other people, but there are some energies they put off that might be dangerous to you.

and as for some babies and children, I believe it can cause them seizures, and yeah it can also come from a place with a lot of bad energy, and it wouldn't just be a lot of people in a very large room that will end up causing the seizure to happen....

not like some doctors will fully accept that there are some epilepsy that can't be explain through science alone and they can be misdiagnosed.

anyway, it might be bad to live in the same place of residence of someone who even though isn't really a bad person, but may give off way too much toxic-lust energy, which can at times place someone who is sleeping into a trance and cause them to dream-walk.

it could be possible the dream-self that one sees, is not the real them that has the toxic-lust energy, but a toxic-lust manifestation energy given form, to look like the person it is coming from.

and even though I'm not sure if it would work for everyone, but it is still best to protect yourself from that.

I'm keeping that dream-catcher on my door, and I'm not going to take it down....because it is for my own safety and protection when I sleep.

it is best to recognize that dream-walking is happening, and that it needs to be stop if it is caused by some form of dangerous toxic energy from someone who might not be a bad person, but because of some stuff that goes on with them...it is best to use dream-catchers and gems to protect yourself.

not everyone has to believe that, but I can't taking any chances.

I didn't think I would end up having a second close call so soon, and I'm keeping that dream-catcher on my door.

I can't tell my family why it needs to be there, I can't tell them about the first and second close calls when I was sleeping.

I know I wrote about it in my diary, of course even I know I'm not gonna say all the stuff I wrote in my diary....

and well today, I didn't write something very VERY personal in it, something I know I can't talk about with my family.

I know I mention about being Fictoromantic & Aroaceflux, and the whole talking about there are Heteroromantic-Aces.

and well, even though I don't want to give everything away from that diary, I will say this.....even if some might not think it is possible.

but it could be possible to be scared straight, even when not being send to those disgusting inhuman filth camps, or as they are better known as Conversion Camps.

I knew someone, from when I was really little, who was around the same age as me when I was little, who had ended up getting a small crush, not on me of course......but they had showed a small sign of being biromantic.

I remember a bit of that time, what scared them in not talking about the small crush that had accord, and the reasons why they never came out about it, was because of something that had happen that caused them to not talk about it, and over time they only got crushes on those of the opposite gender.

but even if being "scared straight" is more fact than fiction, the certain feelings don't really go away....even if it might seem that way.

what happens is that it is locked away in a type of box, like a small chest that has chains and heart shaped locks around it, not to keep it in to try to deny it, but to protect it.

because not everyone is as lucky to have family and friends or others to try to fully understand them and accept them, even if they show signs of a different type of romantic identity before they became a teenager.

even if not everyone gets "scared straight" and it might not really be a type of way that you just become straight, but it's like getting so scared you have to lock that part of yourself away, not because you wanted to, I mean you did but it was because of bad experiences.

you created that chest in your heart, well it's more of a ethereal heart.

and you put the protective chains around it as well as the heart shaped locks. which that whole chest being inside of you think, reminds me of a Anime that has to do with this girl and a jerky boy.

it's called Skip Beat.

even if ya have family that is all straight, and even have a misunderstanding about Asexuality and you might not feel like you can try to correct them by saying there are in fact some Aces who are Gay and some who are Straight...

like I pointed out, I wanted to come out being Aceflux but I wanted to get my family's thoughts about Asexuality first.....

and well I did, and once I did hear them I had ended up acting like it wasn't about me and I made sure to put on a type of mask, you know to hide your true feelings type of mask.

and well once I was in my room, I let all the bad feelings out and let myself cry.....yeah, I don't feel ready to talk to them about it again.

maybe sometime I can try to tell them that there are some people in this world who are both straight and ace, but I don't feel ready to do that right now.

I also think whenever I feel really sad at times, I can try to do my own way of emotional healing, like listening to music, watching a movie or show I like and even doing some reading, and if I feel up to it, playing some video games.

which I finally beat Mass Effect 3 even if it was the Legendary version, but I chose the Green Ending....

I'm not going to have my first win in one of the endings of that Mass Effect 3 game, be the other two endings....

also it is still possible to keep both the Geth and Quarian alive in that part of the game, you just have to make sure to do certain things in the game and not just go fight the Reaper on their home planet right away, doing that is a big mistake, and you cannot do that first....

Mass Effect Legendary might be a blessing, it has the DLC stuff already on it, and I'm glad that I saved that one Quarian Guy I forgot the name of, and didn't go for his team.....because if I left him behind it would of ended up having to choose between the Geth and Quarian.

anyway I hope things do get better, and well not just because of the situation that has to do with Yandere Dev, and if I have to pray more for him then I will, and I see the whole him saying he is taking some time away as a sign that prayer I made before came true.

I know there are the other stuff that was talked about that I had read before, and it really is possible that girl and what others are saying isn't the only reason why he needs time away.

I guess there can be some people who are mostly neutral, and I'm not even sure there are very many who understands both sides are at fault....

and yeah, my thoughts are if things were different and it was some guy who was actually the type of thing that some people are saying that Yandere Dev was, then yeah it is possible I would be fully on the side of that girl.....but it is also possible some are milking that messed up situation way too much.

also if someone older is being flirted with by someone who is younger, they can't just be quiet about it because they want to be nice about it and not get them mad at them...

that can be one of the parts that plays a misunderstanding, it is best to tell them not to flirt with you and plus even though the mistake is to use certain jokes that goes on between the conversation, it can possibly be misinterpreted...

even if I only know very little about the situation and only know from the posts that ended up talking about it up to the point where it is announced that the game will be on pause and well we can also view it on a hiatus.

but it makes me wish that girl had never talked with him, yes he is still at fault but at least he feels sorry and some form of regret of what happen.

and I'm not gonna give up on him or stop praying for him to not make that same mistake, I want to protect him from those types of mistakes.

and perhaps I should pray that girl doesn't make that same mistake again either, I don't think I really know her name, but even if I do find out about it, I wont say it on here or any other place.

even though some guys do treat some girls as one of the guys, they need to be careful with some words when they talk to a girl buddies.

some girls can take things way too literal, and well it can be possible with some guys.

it isn't just a problem with some girls, and yeah it can be possible that loneliness can possibly play a part for some girls and ebirls to do stupid mistakes and being at fault.

I think the reason why I fell for the wrong type of guys before who are now ex-boyfriends, even if they are only online boyfriends and never met them in real life but are still real people...

might have to do with my loneliness and possibly from certain energies I was picking up.

I know I am at fault for trusting them, even more foolish for trusting a certain one I shouldn't of.

even if they had a strange fetish that had to do with clothes, and I know that it had made me uncomfortable and even if I'm glad I don't remember much about them, but I know that it was my mistake in not saying that I didn't feel comfortable about it.

also if anyone is confused about the word Enbirl, it has to do with Nonbinary-Girl.

also it can be possible that there are different types of empathic stuff that humans go through, and not all of them will be the same.

and yeah, emotional healing is a must for anyone who had went through some stuff that might of really emotionally hurt them.

and yeah as weird as I can be, and I know it isn't possible.

but I still might have thoughts of wanting to punch Archangel Samael.

even if it is just thoughts and I know it isn't really possible to do so.

plus ya can't really prove that he is Cain's Dad, and yeah there is the whole being Cain's descendant, but I and others are also Seth's descendants as well...

and yeah, I'm still gonna stick to my new view about Cain and Abel, and how there is more to that story and how both brothers are at fault.

and yeah if Abel even tried that with my fluffy baby, I would possibly go feral earth angel on him, maybe I could just slap him silly.

Cain would possibly need a time in a corner and emotional healing himself, we can't just keep viewing him as always been evil.

the harmful stuff inside him, had been part of the reason he broke past a very dangerous breaking point.

and Adam & Eve were possibly bad at parenting, while at the same time being a little good at it, so it is possible they were gray-parents.

gray-parents are the type of parents who are in between being bad and good parents I think.

like Greg Universe who we find out from re-watching the first seasons of Steven Universe and even in Steven Universe Future, that he is a Gray-Parent.

I can still like Greg, but I have accept the fact that his parenting of Steven wasn't 100% good, and I love both the original series and the future series and some might can relate to Steven even if it is in a different way.

just like how some fans of RWBY can relate to Ruby Rose, and even some fans can relate a bit to Chara from Undertale.

we can have different characters from a show, video game, movie and book series that we can relate to...

and some might even relate to Blitzo from Helluva Boss, or even relate to both him and Fizz....

and even if the episode where Mammon is suppose to appear in might be a while, I got to say that his design is awesome.

and yeah, I still have the thoughts at times of calling dibs on Mammon's butt, which is different from Millie's dibs on Moxxie's butt.

but it's like has to do with how greed can go from the normal to the toxic, and it causing some coca-cola to have their price to be raised.

and once again, Mammon was the first guy I had thoughts about punching in the groin....

of course I had figured out I can't drink too much coca-cola cause it causes certain problems...

I think it was when the price for coca-cola was back to normal, when I notice it was causing me some problems and I had to stop drinking it for a while, and the problem was fixed.

when I can I can drink it again, but I'm going to take it easy on it.

doesn't change my mind about wanting to punch Mammon below the belt and calling dibs on his butt.

even if such a thing isn't possible and might never happen.

but I know I have grown really tired of how the masculine energy is.

even if the feminine energy has a bit of toxic and negative energy in it, but it isn't as high or as dangerous as the toxic and negative energy in the masculine energy.

anyway, the toxic masculine energy can be mixed with toxic-lust energy and it could be in some toxic feminine energy as well.

that second close call I had, that said happen when I was sleeping, it had lasted a bit longer than the first one.

and I'm going to make sure to keep that dream-catcher on my door, to protect me.

also those who are the ones who give off toxic-lust energy, they need to fix that problem, because that energy is freaking dangerous.

I mean if those two were real, I would feel a lot safer around Fizz and Ozzie from Helluva Boss...

I believe that those who are sensitive to some energies, can be in some form of danger from toxic-lust energy from another person.

and in theory, the stronger the toxic-lust energy, the more likely it will be picked up by you when you sleep and place you into a type of trance, so slightly different from what some succubus do.

like some info about a succubus is that they can put their target into a trance, but this isn't the case for this weird defective earth angel.

I know that I might never be 100% like other Earth Angels, even if it does turn out that not all Earth Angels who are also Humans, have RH Negative Blood.

I'm still procrastinating in checking to see if my blood type will come out O RH D Negative for a third time.

not really looking forward to the needle, and the feeling I got a few times when checking my blood type....but I learned while having help with it from family, it is best for me to keep my eyes closed.

I'm not even sure if it is a phobia of blood, so it could be a different reason.

anyway, I know that not everyone will try to understand that both parties are at fault when it comes to that situation that happen before the Yandere Simulator game had to be put on pause and we can view it as a hiatus.

I'm going to make sure to keep praying when I can, for Yandere Dev to not make the same mistake and also take as much time away to heal.

because it isn't just that mess that happen which is the reason he needs time to heal.

I'm not giving up on him, and I believe that he does feel sorry for what happen, but I am not happy that he talked with that girl, and I wish that mess never happen.

but hopefully both him and her, have learned from it and wont make the same mistake again.

I still love the Yandere Simulator Game, and if a new game developers have to pick up the story and continue it, we will have to accept that if it comes down to that, and the new game developers become adoptive parents to it, even when Yandere Dev is still given Credit.

there can be different forms of not forgiving and forgiving someone.

one of the things about forgiveness is that it can't be forced, and at least one side or both need to understand what they did that caused the harm in the first place.

like even if someone tells you not forgiving is a type of sin, but isn't trying to force someone into forgiving when they might need time, just a bit wrong...?

I might not be super smart, and yeah at times some stuff I say gets misinterpreted and it can end up hurting my feelings.

but I don't think it is right to just force forgiveness, there might need to be some kind of process before that can happen.

and besides that whole mess, there was other stuff that made me feel not so great...

and it having to do with the stuff that is going on at the other side of the world...

I guess it's like too many bad feelings...

and of course there is the whole having to place all videos and screenshots from my Xbox to a type of storage device because of a certain info that pop up on it.

and if I hadn't found out during that time when I had signed on it, I would of been really peeved.

lucky I had made it on time and figured out how to place some of them into a storage device that will be for media use and well the other thing I figured out was that I had to go to the Xbox store and download a certain app that is for media.

also when it comes to the whole stuff that went down that has to do with Yandere Dev and that Girl.....I rather not bring this up any time soon, and rather wait to post the original thoughts and feelings that have to do with it...

both sides are still at fault, and I hope that girl will stay as far away from him, and if I have to try to pray for that then I will do my best to do so.

in a way, it is possible they both ended up hurting each other.

and they both need to reflect on their actions in different ways.

I also know that not everyone who takes either his or her side, will agree about my view that both of those two are at fault.

like I said before, I'm not going to give up on him and I'm going to make sure to pray and hope he never falls into that type of situation again, even if he made a mistake that crossed a line which ended up having some get some terrible misunderstandings about him.

but so long as he doesn't make that same mistake, it should be fine.

and there are reasons why I'm mad at that girl, one of them being that she would be at the age to know better than to pull that slag.

but hopefully both sides will stay away from each other, cause that mess was frag up and I still wish it didn't happen...

also even if not everyone can believe that some non-straight feelings can happen before you become a teen, not everyone has to believe that.

but it can be possible, but the whole scared straight thing wouldn't mean you just become straight from something that scared you to the point of staying inside the closet.

but I think it's like placing the part of yourself in a box and placing chains around it with heart shaped locks on it.

it might not make sense to some, but that is the best way I can explain it.

when humans start out as kids, they start out with just romantic cute type of crushes for those they get crushes on.

the whole sexuality wont come until much later on...

plus being Aroace or Aroaceflux can be different for some, and there can be some people who don't start out as Aroace or Aroaceflux but might become that way later on.

I have crushes before, but at the moment I have no interest in getting into a romantic relationship with any real life humans, even if I end up meeting them online.

maybe I should write down a list as reasons what I find not attractive.

let's see, one of them being how some humans treat Aces, and let's see the Toxic-Hypers*xual is really not attractive at all.

Toxic-Masculinity is not very attractive, so there is that.

I hope that I don't have another panic attack like I did in 2015, even though I might of been close to having another one this year...

because once again it happen in a car, but this time I think I had better control of it.

I think that I still might have a type of Semi-Androphobia.

and at times some thoughts pop into my head, which might of started this year or last year.

whenever I'm in the kitchen and a male family member comes into that same room, even if they aren't really bad, but the thoughts "don't touch me." pops into my head.

I guess I can still trust some males, even if some are family.

well I can't trust one that is still technically family, but with the messed up stuff that he has done, I can't trust him and he needs to stay away.

I think some who have Androphobia and some with Gynophobia, some can have it far worse, so my slight phobia might not be as bad which is why I view it as a semi type.

and I believe that the panic attack I had in 2015, which ended up having me hit my head on the ceiling of the car...

was because of men and the thought of the dangerous situations.

even if not all guys are like that, but there are some who you need to be careful around.

also, I think self healing can possibly help even if for some it can take a bit longer than most days of needing it.

it might not be easy to get to the same type of feelings of happy that one use to feel until they were hurt past the breaking point.

and I know the best thing I can do, is hold onto the happy feelings I still have inside of me even if they might not be as strong as they use to.

having two depressions pretty much sucks, and falling into one after becoming better not too long ago from the first one....

that can pretty much super suck.

it doesn't help that Covid-19 happen.....and even some stuff that is happening now.

if I was allowed to, and if it were possible.....

I would still want to punch Archangel Samael....well him and Lucifer.

anyway I know that not everyone will possibly read this anyway.

and yeah even if it does talk about some other stuff, besides the Yandere Simulator game and the messed up stuff that happen.

but I hope there will be others who will end up working on the game, but would have to ask Yandere Dev first, and he would need to give them the okay and permission.

at least this isn't like the time I believed some fake news about Scott Cawthon being dead....you do NOT put a fake news about that.

and if I hadn't decided to click on it, I would of still believed it was true.

dirty slagging jerk who started that fake news joke had crossed a line.

anyway there is another post I want to do that has to do with a weird dream I had that has to do with Husk from Hazbin Hotel.

once again, even if not everyone has to agree with my point of view about my finding that both parties are at fault, do not misinterpret my thoughts and feelings about it.

and the best thing for those two are to reflect, do some self healing and never make the same mistake like that mess again.

also even if I had ended up in a sad mood, I think I'm okay now.

well there is that stuff that is going on that doesn't make me happy, and one of them being having to do with stuff that is going on the other side of the world.

and sorry if this ended up super long, but hopefully in the next post after this one, I wont end up making it super long.

[ayadoesart42]

Guys, I feel like we need to have a talk about this

I got a comment on a fic I wrote today.

The fic was a 14 year old hitojaku fluff with mild hurt and comfort. It featured my personal hc that Jakurai is a (closeted) trans woman, but the main point of the fic was (supposed to be) less about the hc, and more about having a safe and supportive environment to express yourself. The reason I wrote that was that I, as a genderqueer person, as a person in general, have struggled to find a safe space such as Jakurai has in the fic (Hitoya's family). It was a personal endearing idea that makes me really happy and I posted it to Archive of our own to hopefully share that idea with people that might connect with that.

I tagged everything correctly. I wrote everything related to bullying and gender dysphoria to my personal experiences, and yet. I got this comment;

First of all- this made my cry. This hurt. Writing is a huge form of creativity, it is a huge form of art. Most people do not understand that creativity is an emotion. Putting something you created out on the internet is one of the scariest things a person can do. You are laying your thoughts, emotions, feelings, and experiences out on the table and praying someone doesn't decide to stab everything about it. This was a 2,476 word fic that I spent a long time working on, and it never feels good to get a hateful comment. It was one that I thought was cute, that I thought was comforting, and that I thought shown a reasonable depiction of gender dysphoria and transness (from my personal experiences). But clearly, it offended someone.

I ended up responding with this;

Everything that I said here I belive in. I feel that the fic I wrote was harmless enough considering it's pretty mild all things considered, AND everything was tagged accordingly. I also feel like the language used in the comment was highly inappropriate and disrespectful. I am a minor, I am far from a fully grown person, and am absolutely willing to learn from my mistakes and do better in the future, but if there is a problem with something I do, I highly appreciate if I am told in a mature and non-hateful way because I do nothing with ill intent.

Most importantly though, is that this is the hypnosis mic fandom. This is an anime fandom. This is a fandom. This is a giant group of people from a thousand different backgrounds, different races and ethnicities, different cultures, different genders, different sexualities, and different experiences. Not one of us are the same, not one of us is evil, and not one of us is righteous. I am here to enjoy a story about people trash talking each other in a territory battle via rapping. I am here to enjoy a myriad of characters with their own backgrounds disagreements. Because this is a fandom, that should mean people are free to express their feelings, their thoughts, and their opinions on characters in the world. A fandom should be a light hearted place where people can agree to disagree about a character's favorite color, or sexuality.

I am here to have fun. If my hc does not aline with yours, that doesn't make me a "homophobic", "filthy", "gross", "disgusting", "sick", person.

I want to hear other people. I want to know that a fandom is a fun place where people can disagree on points and still have a good time.

I would really appreciate it if you could repost if you agree <3

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Hello , just wondering were you part of a religion but then saw the overwhelming flaws of it and now this is why your so passionate about telling people the truth ? I’m asking this because I used to be part of a religion in a luke warm sense of a way and now that I’m out of it I have noticed that I am similar trying to tell people the truth . Also I really enjoy the blog and hope you have a great day 👍🏻😊

I was raised in what you might call Lukewarm Catholicism. I went to Thursday School - which is Sunday School on Thursdays - went to church probably about 50 Sundays out of the year, did confirmation.

But none of it stuck. I remember the buildings from the Thursday School classes, because it was at a Catholic school I didn’t go to associated with the local church (my actual school was non-religious). But i don’t remember the classes, the lessons, the teachers - not even if they were male or female. It made no impression on me, whatsoever.

I dressed up to be walked through my confirmation, apparently, but I don’t remember any of it except through photos.

From church, I remember the boredom, the parquet wooden collection plate being passed around. I remember that when they did silent prayer, I had this extreme sense of the emptiness of the hall and its high ceilings; there was nobody there to listen to them. I remember looking around at the people with their eyes closed, and hearing the deafening silence, not just from the lack of sound, but the god they were praying to who wasn’t there. Like I was watching a spiritual tumbleweed roll through the air above their heads.

I ate the little wafer thing, but didn’t get the little sippy cup of wine. I thought it bizarre that they wanted me to eat flesh, but I knew it was just a wafer, so it didn’t bother me. They told me that it actually becomes the body of Jesus, but I still assumed they were either kidding or being symbolic, because it was clearly still just a wafer.

We never said grace or prayed before bed or anything. Nothing of this belief system existed outside of these compartmentalized rituals. By the time I was 16, we had stopped going to church entirely. It had apparently been something that we’d done only because my parents had felt socially obligated to.

Religion was a non-entity in my life for quite some time. I didn’t think of myself in terms of the word “atheist.” I just knew that some people believed in various religions and I didn’t.

This blog was never intended for anyone but myself. As I explored Tumblr, I found science posts and memes which eventually lead to atheism ones, which was sort of my first real return to the religious sphere since my family stopped going to church. The original intent of the blog was to collect interesting and funny memes that I found, starting with the one which correctly identifies that a rib from Adam would have had a 44XY genotype and would necessarily have had to be a male clone. My reblog disappeared when Tumblr deleted the original poster’s for some reason; this is my more recent reposting of it.

I suppose my intent now is less about telling people what’s true, and more about helping figure out what’s false. To show that the beliefs of believers, as stated by the believers themselves, refute themselves. Their god being mysterious and unknowable, yet “good” or “loving.” Being perfect but needing worship. Purported “evidence” and “supported by science” yet requiring faith. Unfalsifiable claims, both celestial and terrestrial.

And then also help people push back on other people’s beliefs intruding into their lives, from Xianity to Woke, with the courage to do so, be able to say why, be able to dismiss sophistry like Motte and Baileys or Ad Homs, point out that their right to have and express their belief also the same right that allows you to point out the flaws in that belief, to ignore feelings as epistemologically valid, to be able to decline to participate without guilt (secularism), and focus on values, particularly those of Liberal ethics, rather than subscribing to specific beliefs.

That by being principled, you can withstand and resist the demands of those who lead with their offended feelings, outrage, self-invested victimhood, and demands for your participation in their belief. With gut-check on your values and principles, you can laugh off those who decry you as a “sinner” or “immoral” or “spreading hate” or racist/Nazi/fascist (their definition). These are attempts to make you play their game, and exhaust yourself defending yourself on their terms. “LOL” or “no, you” is all you need when someone threatens you with hell.

Hopefully when you clear away all the false ideas, the fallacies and sophistry, the emotional reasoning and the illogical clutter, something resembling the truth remains. If it doesn’t, that’s still okay. Eliminating wrong answers helps us not waste time or effort on them, and helps us get closer to correct answers.

How well I achieve that is up to others to decide. But that’s where I’m coming from.

[fedonciadale]

What’s your take on what’s going to happen at Castle Black once everyone knows that he’s dead? Is it going to be immediate chaos? Or something else? I hesitate to think Stannis will have Shireen burned in the books... could Selyse and Mel take Mance’s “baby” to burn only for the wildlings to retaliate and take Shireen? Or will Selyse choose to burn Shireen? Is GRRM going to do something with human/child sacrifice trope? Where is he taking this scenario?

Hi there!

I am not quite sure, what will happen or in what order. There will be chaos and Satin will probably be the one who brings Jon’s body to safety. The NW will be rudderless and out for the time being.

I do think though, that Stannis will indeed sacrifice Shireen. If I remember correctly it was more or less confirmed after season 5 that the burning of Shireen is supposed to be a WTF moment and that it was together with Hodor and one other thing one of the three WTF moments yet to come in the books.

I do think Stannis is build up to make the ‘wrong’ sacrifice for the ‘wrong’ reasons. More so, since Davos, who is his conscience and who has a clear cut opinion on child sacrifice is not available.

Remember that Stannis already wanted to kill Edric Storm as a king’s son and that was before he sailed to the Wall.

Stannis is a hypocrite and I think he will get into an almost impossible situation and will decide to make a huge sacrifice, something that will count.

I can easily imagine that it will be a clusterfuck of a situation, because of course Stannis will think of Mance’s  son first. Val who knows that Mance’s son is gone and that the baby ‘Monster’ is Craster’s son will either try to save the baby she has grown attached to and spirit him away or she will spill the truth about him. This will then mean that the only king’s blood available will be Shireen. And Val might direct desperate people towards Shireen. She thinks Shireen should be dead anyway because she has greyscale. I think Stannis will sacrifice her in an act of desperation.

I’m not sure what will happen to Craster’s son. We had another baby swap in King’s Landing: Aegon, son of Rhaegar, possibly swapped against not a random baby but against the child of Brandon and Ashara Dayne (cf. @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir posts on Lemora, the ‘septa’ that raises Young Griff). If the second baby swap plays out like the first it is the swapped baby that will die in place of the king’s son.

I think that Selyse will be the one to take revenge for Shireen, the Klytemnaestra to Stannis’ Agamemmnon. It can’t have a good ending.

Also I think that the real effect of Shireen’s sacrifice will not be a ‘change of winds‘ (something that Stannis probably will pray for) but that it will give Melissandre the magic to resurrect Jon. Or Meilissandre will think that Shireen’s sacrifice gave her the power, when in reality it was Jon’s warging abilities - a gift from the old Gods of the North.

When Jon will be ressurected, Craster and Gilly’s son will be dead, Stannis gone and he’ll be half beast because he will have stayed quite some time in Ghost. I don’t know if Val will survive. If she had a hand in Shireen’s death Jon will probably be very angry with her.

I think Davos has it right and speaks for the author:

"Your Grace," said Davos, "the cost . . ."        

 "I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning . . . burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?" The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King's Landing. "If Joffrey should die . . . what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?"                 

"Everything," said Davos, softly. (ASOS, Davos V)

There can be no victory when you do not care about the lives of the innocent, because this is what this is about after all. The ends do not justify the means.

Thanks for the ask!

[marmosa]

hello 💕 i've just gone through your entire fred weasley and i absolutely love your writing and especially your dialogues, they feel v authentic and real xx i read that you have requests open so i'll leave you with an idea from my v detailed v self indulgent daydream cinematic universe starring fred weasley— post war (say a couple of years after) fred is the owner and manager of the hogsmead branch of the joke shop and sneaks into hogwarts to meet his fiancé, newly hired transfiguration (1/2)

thank you so much for the kind words and reading all my writing, i can’t begin to describe how much that means to me! i love the idea of fred sneaking into the castle to see his significant other, it’s so cute, i had to run a lap around my room just thinking about it. also in this house fred weasley never d worded, if you think he did, no he didn’t. also also, it got kinda sad at the end and i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen i- but anyways, hope you like it and thank you again for the compliment <3

word count: 1.6k

***

“Hey!”

Tink!

“Hey!”

Tink!

[y/n] looked up from the stack of papers arrayed on her desk and glanced around her study for the source of the noise, absolutely bewildered at who would possibly be bothering her at this hour. She prayed it wasn’t a student messing around with her, for she may have been a relatively new teacher but she wasn’t afraid to stand her ground against misbehaving kids.

The sound came again and this time she saw who it was her face lighting up before falling down as she scurried over to the window, unlatching the glass and pushing it open to find her fiancé sitting all high and mighty on his broom like this was a normal everyday occurrence.

“Fred Weasley! What in God’s name are you doing outside of my window? Why are you throwing stones at glass? Do you have any idea how high up I am?” She hissed, reaching for him, despite knowing full well he could only enter the room on his own accord.

He flew closer to the window and balanced himself on the ledge before grabbing her hand and hopping down onto the floor a giddy smile plastered on his lips, “I’m aware how high up this is, lest you forget I was one of the best Gryffindor beaters this school has ever seen.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You do realize you could just come in through the front doors right? McGonagall isn’t going to smite you down for visiting your fiancée,” she deadpanned, latching the window back shut.

“Whatever? If I recall correctly, me being on the quidditch team all those years back had you absolutely smitten, or am I wrong,” he retorted smugly, completely brushing past her statement about walking through the front doors.

[y/n]’s face fell into one of embarrassment as she pushed past him back to her desk, not wanting to fuel his ego any more than she usually did, “Even so, you still can’t be sneaking onto campus. Especially during school hours, you know how it is, I would rather you be turned away at the door than get escorted out by the collar of your robes.”

“But it’s always school hours! Honestly [y/l/n], your new position has really given you a stick up the arse,” He grumbled, leaning back against one of the desks across from hers.

“[y/l/n]?” She repeated, offense written all over her face. Despite not taking it to heart she decided to mess with him a bit for being so stubborn.

Fred’s face fell and he was quick to rush over and apologize, “You know that’s not what I meant! Technically you’re not a Weasley anyway until the paperwork is done legally, so I’m not wrong.”

“I’m telling Molly you said that and she’s going to ground you just like she did 6th year when you got caught nicking something from Filche’s office,” [y/n] pouted, sinking into her chair and crossing her arms.

“You’re terrible you know that,” Fred deadpanned grabbing her cheeks in his hands, “don’t you say a word to my mother or she’ll make me bake you a cake or something.”

“I would quite like that actually, maybe I will tell her,” she replied, biting back a smile.

“Oh, come on! You know George was the one who got all the baking skills! That’s why he’s in charge of all the candy at our shops!” Fred whined, squeezing her face together slightly to try and return the teasing.

“Even if it turned out burnt and gross, I’d still like it because you made it,” she stated plainly, leaning up to try and snatch a kiss.

“Rubbish,” He replied, indulging her and accepting the kiss, smiling down at her when she beamed up at him.

“Whatever you say Freddie, y’know-,”

“Mrs. Weasley? Are you here? I had a question for you.”

All the color drained out of Fred’s face as he recognized McGonagall’s voice from across the room, [y/n]’s features mirroring the same horror as she pushed him off her and shoved him under her desk so he was as out of sight as she could make him.

“Yes- yes! I’m here Minerva, how can I help you?” [y/n] stuttered out, sliding her chair in as far as she could without injuring her soon to be husband.

“Well, I wanted to ask how the preparations were coming along for the annual Christmas Ball? I know you’ve been kept busy with recent exams, but the plans are top priority if we want to keep the spectacular turn out of our ball the same,” McGonagall explained walking up to her desk.

“Oh! The plans are coming along just fine, I haven’t quite finished drafting them up yet, but as soon as I do I’ll have them brought to you right away for approval,”  [y/n] assured her, trying her best not to let on how nervous she now was, trying not to get Fred caught.

“Spectacular! And I expect to see you down in the Hall later? Professors have to arrive early today for some announcement preparation,” McGonagall continued, thankfully still unaware of the hidden person in the room.

“Of course, thank you for letting me know ahead of time,” [y/n] nodded, pretending to assort some papers on her desk.

“Lovely,” McGonagall smiled, heading out of the room, but stopping before she exited the room, “Oh, and tell Mr. Weasley that I say hello, he’s been rather quiet about his surprise appearances to our school recently.”

“Will do!” [y/n] called after her, releasing a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in as soon as the door shut.

“Okay, how come you get to call her Minerva?” Fred complained, crawling out from under the desk, no visible panic at McGonagall’s leaving statement.

“All professors do. Besides, you’re a trouble-maker in her eyes, a darling, but a trouble-maker, she wouldn’t dream of giving you that kind of power,” [y/n] giggled, reaching up to rearrange his  ruffled hair, as he’d decided to grow it out again once he’d graduated.

“Trouble-maker,” Fred muttered, rolling his eyes, “Well she’ll be seeing a lot more of me whether she likes it or not, so I’ll win that privilege, eventually.”

“Whatever you say darling,” she hummed, scooting back in to continue grading her papers.

“You’re ignoring me already?” he groaned, letting his chin rest on the top of her head, arms slinging over her shoulders.

“I’ve got work to do Fred, I’m a professor now. I’m surprised you even had time to visit me, you’re a business owner now after all, it always amazes me how you have the time for these spontaneous visits- not that I don’t appreciate them,” she assured him, setting down her pen and squeezing his hands.

“I own the business, so I get to make my hours, unlike you,” he replied, moving his head so he was peeking over her shoulder.

“Is that supposed to be bad?” she quipped, leaning her head against his shoulder so she could kind of see him.

“Bad for me! I miss you! You’re here far too much,” Fred mumbled, intertwining their fingers.

“Well winter vacation is coming up soon, so you’ll be seeing much more of me. Hopefully you don’t get too sick of me,” she giggled, pursing her lips when he passed her a suggestive grin, “Ah, don’t look at me like that, that is not what I meant.”

“But it is and you know it darling,” Fred hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t get too cocky or I’ll come up with extra work to keep me here,” she warned, a teasing lilt to her threat.

“You wouldn’t. Besides even if you did, I’d kidnap you against your will. Also you wouldn’t hurt Molly like that, she always expects you for family festivities,” he replied simply, knowing she would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him.  

“You’ve got me there. You know me so well,” she sighed, reaching back so she could toy with the hair at the nap of his neck.

“I’d hope I know you well, you’re about to be my wife,” he chuckled, shutting his eyes at the sensation of her soft fingers against his skin.

“Touché, love, touché,” she hummed in agreement, her free hand twisting the engagement ring situated on his finger.

“Anyways, I should probably leave you to it, with your boring paperwork and grading and all,” he sighed, standing tall, her hands sliding away from him and into her lap.

“It’s not boring,” she frowned, crossing her arms across her chest defensively, trying not to cave but ultimately failing when he gave her a raised brow, “okay, maybe it’s a little boring.”  

“I knew it. No worries darling, I know you love it here, I’m only teasing. See you soon though?” He mused, brushing a stray hair out of her face.

“See you soon,” she replied, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a sweet kiss, relishing in one another’s company for their limited time together.

“Farewell my love,” he announced, grabbing his broom and pushing himself onto the window sill, “see you around.”

“Fred wait!”

He laxed the position of his broom and turned around, an adoring smile stretching onto his lips as she pulled him for one last sweet kiss, placing a small object in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked as she peppered a few last kisses around his face, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.

“It’s the locket you gave me, I finally put a picture in it, thought it was time to return it to you,” she smiled, stroking his cheek lovingly.

“You’re astounding,” he muttered, tucking the charm in his pocket, “I love you.”

“I love you too, bye Freddie,” she waved as he kissed her softly once more and took off into the setting sun, “see you soon.”

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

What a coward ass account. I’ve asked about several questions but I bet you won’t answer it because apparently you ship a fake ship and have 0 backbone and you can’t argue with anyone because you’ve nothing to back up your fanservice ass ship. Namjin is merely a friendship and a professional one at that. Wake up. Jin is never intimate with Joon, never tells me he loves him, never goes out of his way to spoil him, never possesses over him. Never shows any sign of jealousy so how tf are y’all so fucking delulu and blind?

You know, normally I’d just delete something as rude as this but honestly you gave me a good laugh with it so I’ll take the bait. But FYI, while I planned on answering these questions sooner or later, because imagine this, some of us have jobs and things we need to take care of and thus sometimes just don’t have the time to write posts, especially when some of them take a lot of time and research, even more so when an average thematic post from me is somewhere between 2 and 5k words long. That takes a hot minute to write. Not that you’d care, but now I don’t think I’ll answer them because I truly don’t appreciate you coming into our asks and being this unnecessary level of rude. If you felt like I skipped your question or was taking an oddly long time to answer, it would’ve sufficed to send in a small question about it and you would’ve gotten a normal answer for it, but guess not.

There are several things I find extremely interesting and also hilarious about your ask, especially since they confirm basically every suspicion I have about shipping when it comes to Bangtan and mlm ships in general.

But I’d like to start with this first because it really made me pause there for a minute: “because you’ve nothing to back up your fanservice ass ship” Since your ask is about Namjin I will assume this part is as well, yes, and I really am struggling to see how they, of all ships, are a “fanservice” one considering both Namjoon and Seokjin aren’t really big on skinship and initiating hugs and touches. What, exactly, about them is fanservice? Even more so since you go on to say this: “Jin is never intimate with Joon, never tells me he loves him, never goes out of his way to spoil him, never possesses over him. Never shows any sign of jealousy” so if these are your definition of what constitutes a) fanservice and b) a relationship, yet you claim Namjin is just fanservice, how can that be if you say they never do any? This math doesn’t math, you know.

Before I get ahead of myself, let’s break this down point by point, shall we?

1. “Jin is never intimate with Joon” – Tell me, dear anon, how exactly do you know that? Are you their friend? A fly living on their wall and watching over them 24/7? And also, how, exactly, are we supposed to be shown that by them? Is Namjoon supposed to walk over to Seokjin and, I don’t know, make out with him while Bangtan B*mb Noona stands a meter away and films the whole thing? What even does intimate mean in your definition? I have a sneaking suspicion of what you’re asking for but I will give you the benefit of the doubt.

Since I like language, let’s get into the literal definition of the word intimate, shall we, because you might be surprised to find it doesn’t just mean what you think it does. According to the Cambridge dictionary, intimate has several meanings, and what Namjoon and Seokjin show us and tell us that they have is actually several of them:

“Being a close, personal friend”, does that ring a bell? It does, doesn’t it? Namjoon and Seokjin have known each other for ten years almost, have spent a considerable amount of time together, have had dinner with each other’s families, Namjoon was at Seokjin’s brother’s wedding, and Namjoon is the person he turns to when it comes to his lyrics, always makes sure to thank Namjoon in his Thank You section in their albums, and supports him however he sees fit. Isn’t that intimate?

I know you mean the sexual kind of intimate, and truly that is something neither you nor I have any knowledge of and, surprise, it’s none of our business either. If I remember correctly, we’ve never brought up anything really sexual in any of our posts because I don’t believe in this whole “sexual tension” thing that toxic shippers go around preaching about. Even if it were there, that’s not for us to discuss because their sex life is none of our business.

Next.

2. “never tells me he loves him” – Never tells you he loves him? And why, pray tell, should he tell you, specifically? Yes, I’m being petty, so what. Love speaks many different languages, and saying the words “I love you” is just one of many, many different ways in which you can let someone know you love and cherish them, romantically and platonically. Years ago when Seokjin posted a cover on SoundCloud he said in the accompanying post that he prefers saying I like you over I love you, so I guess that means he just doesn’t love anyone, yes? Besides, is he obliged to stand in front of the camera and profess his undying love to Namjoon for you to believe he loves our dearest leader?

Isn’t it enough that he shows his love and respect for Namjoon in other ways, like praising him when Namjoon was being hard on himself so Seokjin told him he did well and that he always does well even in tricky situations, or being by his side during red carpets and other such things because Namjoon once asked him to do so because he feels calmer when Seokjin is by his side? Isn’t that a beautiful way of showing someone you love them, regardless if it’s romantic or platonic love?

Next.

3. “never goes out of his way to spoil him” – Is Seokjin Namjoon’s sugar daddy? Did I miss something?

Next.

4. “never possesses over him. Never shows any sign of jealousy” – now this point I have the biggest rage at because neither of these things—possessiveness and jealousy—are good things, especially not in a romantic relationship, but really, they aren’t a good thing in any kind of relationship. Possessiveness is a slippers slope, as is jealousy, the former being a great gateway toward an abusive relationship and while that might be “”””cute”””” in raunchy romance novels and movies, it isn’t in real life. And neither is jealousy. The only thing jealousy really tells and shows you, in the context you are going for, is insecurity and a lack of faith in your relationship and especially your partner. And that, again, isn’t a good or healthy thing for a relationship, especially not a romantic one. I know toxic shippers eat up this whole jealousy bs, YouTube is full of it after all and brings in hundreds of thousands of views (and dollars), but that has nothing to do with real life. So, the fact that we never see Seokjin, or Namjoon, jealous or possessive over the other? That is a good thing. Besides, enlighten me, how is this jealousy supposed to look like because true jealousy doesn’t appear written across your face in neon letters. I’m curious.

Next.

5. “Namjin is merely a friendship and a professional one at that.” – if that is your opinion, I’m happy for you. I won’t go out of my way to prove to you why I think differently or why you should because that’s not what I’m here for. Yes, I have a certain opinion on Namjin, that’s true, but I’m not a toxic shipper who will fights someone tooth and nail over it because that’s stupid. And won’t change anything anyway. Besides, my opinion doesn’t in any shape or form negate that they are friends. Every good relationship should have friendship as basis, and I very much believe that they are very close friends, while your phrasing makes it seem like you think they are only work friends, as in people who are friends during working hours but stop once they clock out of work, just saying.

The purpose of this blog isn’t to somehow convert people into shippers or convince them of something, instead it’s simply supposed to be a happy space where we share our opinions, have fun with Bangtan, their music and everything else, and can have civil conversations without calling anyone out or calling each other names. It’s literally in our blog description “Sharing thoughts on everything Bangtan, as well as vmin and namjin”, meaning it is a blog “designed” for both OT7s as well as people who already are vminnies or namjinists, or both, and yet if someone happens to start liking one of these two pairings because of our posts, like I’ve seen happen with some readers and namjin, that’s great, but that’s not our primary goal in any kind of way.

This is our blog which also means we have the freedom to answer whichever asks we want to and however quickly we want or can. Chances are, perhaps, the way you phrased your ask simply didn’t sit well with us and thus we decided against answering it at the time. Just some food for thought.

Lastly, there are a lot of blogs that surely represent your opinions and agree with you, so what, exactly, are you looking for on our blog? Do you think by sending an ask like this, or questioning my opinions in such a manner, you’ll be able to convert us away from our opinions? Neither of us forces anyone to agree with everything we say, so you don’t have to either, and we also don’t force anyone to read our posts. If you don’t like what we post, you are free to look for a different blog with which you’ll be able to agree and find your opinion represented, I won’t stop you. Enjoy.

[kettle-on]

(Oh woops, this is a lot longer than it was supposed to be, but I got carried away. Still not super happy with it, but I figured I'd post it sooner than later, before I changed my mind completely!)

Monty Python and the Barbados Fic

Eric x Michael x OFC

Chapter 4

attn: @jessm78 @coincidence-ithinknots-blog

Evenings at Heron Bay were lively, silly, rowdy, and populous. The Pythons had decided they would have guests to dinner every night, and surprisingly this proved not too difficult. Apparently Barbados was hopping with friendly famous faces at this time of year.

Mick Jagger continued his regular visits with Jerry on his arm, and one or two pairs of glamorous mystery Misters and Misses. It was revealed through many rounds of Charades that the Rolling Stone had an extraordinary talent for both miming and deciphering interpretive dance. His rendition of “the eruption of Mt Vesuvius” was met with roaring applause, and his “Sex Pistols” brought the evening to an un-toppable peak.

Things would take a turn, however, when an entirely sober Graham introduced a favourite game of his called “Poor Pussy” in which the chosen “pussy” approaches guests and, through meowing and distinctly feline behaviour, must make the guest laugh whilst they attempt to pet pussy’s head and say with a straight face three times: “poor pussy.” When one does laugh, they become the new “pussy.” This last rule changed quickly when it arose that multiple “pussies” had taken over the room, and hardly a word could be spoken from the guests through their laughter.

Perhaps the most uncommon news, however, came from casual chat. A visiting Keith Moon explained his plans for a new house in Malibu, anxious for acres of privacy and leaving behind his celebrity neighbours. Jagger the Charades king told of all-night New York City parties, to which Graham countered: “At least in London, one has the good sense to wrap up before sitting down to breakfast.”

Y/N was sure that, had she been keeping a list, she’d have been privy to the business of every star in modern comedy and rock and roll.

The next morning came too early once again, but Y/N was this time drawn to the bedroom window. From here she could see the team of gardeners hired to keep Heron Bay looking lush and groomed. She couldn’t help but feel that with each day that passed she was floating further and further away from what she remembered normal life to be like.

Not wanting to disturb a sleeping Eric, she made her way to the morning room that looked out to the curved courtyard. At one end of the room was a large painted screen of columns in some beautiful ancient scene. Each table surface in this room was topped with a floral arrangement, antique candlesticks, and photographs of visitors and houseguests. Decades of beautiful faces and elegant dresses, men in uniform, and posed portraits looked back at her from their frames.

What was this world? she had long wondered. Painted screens, stone pediments, beaches, house staff, tennis courts, and private ponds. Marriages, affairs, and cover-ups. Churchill, the Duke of Edinburgh, Lord and Lady Something of Somewhere Unpronounceable, and movie stars and rock n roll gods. And who was she in all of this?

From the near distance, she heard puffs of exertion and approaching steps. Michael had committed himself to continuing his disciplined daily morning jog and here he was returning.

“Ah,” he panted, “Morning.”

“Good morning. Nice run?”

“Well,” puff, “it’s not Holloway, but it’ll do.”

When he caught his breath, he noticed her uneasiness. With a smiling face and a tone he’d learned from his mother, he suggested:

“Tea?” --

It was much later that night that Y/N found herself again wandering the corridors alone. The afternoon had passed with a visit from Eric’s friend Ricky Fataar with whom he’d made The Rutles the previous year, and his wife, Heron Bay’s proprietress Penelope Tree. The couple had dropped in for what they called a “business luncheon,” and extended an invitation to the Python household out for a “business dinner.” The two Terrys and Eric accepted, (the Terrys hoping they might throw in a bit of “money talk” regarding their upcoming film budget) and by the time the day’s activities had come to a close, the outward dinner guests had yet to return.

In the rare quiet of the late-night, Y/N knocked on the door to the room where Michael was staying, and a friendly hum invited her into the room. A single lamp lit up the walls and floor, and a Michael in repose who was making edits to his well-kept journal.

“Do I recall correctly you said you’d brought a small library with you?” asked Y/N from the door.

“I did, indeed!” he responded, setting his journal on one of the nightstands next to the bed. “What’s the matter – can’t sleep?”

Y/N shook her head with an apologetic smirk.

“I see, and what sort of thing are you after?”

“Something, uh... gentle, I suppose. Something to escape.”

“Escape? From here? A tropical island and you’d like to escape – now that’s puzzling.” He drew back the thin blanket that covered his lower half, and swung his mostly bare legs over the side of the mattress.

“No, no,” she started, “Just something to, y’know, get out of my head for a bit.”

“Mm, is there something troubling you?” Michael eyed the three stacks of books casually adorning a side table, and inspected the choices of titles.

“Just feeling a little…” Y/N searched for a believable excuse, “homesick.”

He was not convinced. Putting his book task on pause he raised his eyebrows, requesting her further explanation. Y/N both appreciated and hated this look. Michael, though the gentlest and kindest of the troupe, would not let anything go unexplained or hidden for long, and his generosity and patience invited her to open up.

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing here,” she confessed. “I feel like I’m just getting in the way, y’know? You’re all working hard on what I’m certain will be a brilliant film, and what am I here for?”

“You’re on holiday,” he declared with what he hoped was an assuring smile.

“A holiday from what? What do I even do?” She felt the agitation rising in her voice. “It’s like I just exist day in and day out with no purpose or point. No goals and no…”

Michael’s stare was intense and he waited for her to continue.

“…future.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper when she noticed she’d drawn his undivided attention. A quiet Michael was a rare thing, and the silence stilled the air between them.

“So, I thought... maybe a… a book might help,” she attempted, but Michael was already smoothing down the bedspread, offering a space beside him which she gratefully filled.

“Is this what it’s like being famous?” she asked heavily, taking a seat. “Always surrounded by extremely talented, important people, and constantly comparing your own worth and accomplishments?”

“I suppose it is, yes. Sometimes.” Michael was usually very good at telling the truth in a palatable way.

Nevertheless, this acknowledgement only supported her anxiety. Her face fell and she closed her eyes, sensing exhaustion was on its way. She silently prayed for one of Michael’s rambling speeches, and he intuitively delivered.

“But it doesn’t have to be,” he began. “None of this comes with the expectation that you’ve earned your right to enjoy things. You don’t need to have won a Nobel Prize or sold a million records to deserve fine cutlery. But when you’re well-known, everybody wants to know you and bring you lovely things, whether or not you think you deserve them. When that happens, I think what helps is to recognize what’s there for you, and appreciate that there are all these things you can access if you’d like to. What’s important to remember is that you have options, and lots of good ones, too.

“And as far as goals and a future, well… I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that you’re already building a future just by living. And learning, and asking questions, and thinking, and wondering, and loving, and caring.”

Y/N had stayed quiet. The past few weeks of indulgence, creativity, and celebrity drama had left her feeling in a way excluded, and far away from herself. It wasn’t something she found she could explain to Eric without seeming ungrateful.

Michael continued:

“So right now, you’re on holiday somewhere you’ve never been, and learning how the other half lives. And what am I doing? Well at the moment I’m enjoying a few weeks on a beautiful island, with marvelous weather, with my wonderful friends. Together, we’re finishing up a script for a film which, if all goes well, we’ll be making later this year. That’s my job, and it keeps me working, but I’ve got the rest of my hours and days, too, and that’s when I’m living. That’s when life happens, you see, in the in-between time.

Y/N had secured a point of focus on the floor, and found it fitting that Michael’s was one of the few rooms in the building with wooden floorboards instead of the palatial stone. In this room she could be almost anywhere in the world, and at this moment she was happy to be somewhere closer to home.

“There’s no rush,” Michael added, noting her half-daze. “Life is short, but... there’s so much of it. You can stop and start and chop and change as many times as you like. It’s all life,” he slowed his pace, carefully observing her softened expression, “and it’s all yours.”

Y/N leaned back onto her elbows and contemplated her bare knees.

“I don’t think I’ve heard that one before,” she mused. “Hm. I’ve got a lot of time to fill, haven’t I?”

Michael gave a warm hum of agreement and joined her sideways, propping his head on an elbow, attentive as ever.

“And what are you going to fill it with first?” he asked.

This prospect was suddenly overwhelming, and it showed in her eyes. She took a breath and decided to choose levity for a change.

“I could work on this tan, I guess,” she playfully suggested, kicking a leg up and indicating her knees, “What do you think?”

“Very nice,” he approved. In fact, he had long admired her knees, and was grateful to the January Barbados weather for getting them out of trousers and wool tights. The previous summer at many a pub garden evening, he’d envied Eric’s long fingers resting atop Y/N’s knees, giving an occasional squeeze, and more than once catching sight of a slow glide up a thigh, disappearing under a skirt hem.

“Looks like you’re off to a good start there,” he said, allowing himself an extra-long, fully permissible eyeing up of her legs.

“And you?” she asked, “What’s next in the in-between time?”

“Well, I thought I might see what life by the ocean is like. I don’t see it very often. They’ve got waterskiing down at the bay - I might give that a go. I doubt I’ll be any good, but at least then I can say I’ve done it. Obviously a very valuable skill in London. I can see it: there I am, shooting across the lakes of Hampstead Heath. Or better still, an aquatic commute! I could start off from Blackfriars in the morning, and be in Molesey by tea-time, how’s that?”

Y/N laughed, tired from the day but grateful for Michael’s silliness. She liked this. Why couldn’t Mike be around more often? Or could she have a mini-Mike to keep in her purse and take out for impromptu pep-talks and compliments, please?

“I wonder,” he said carefully when her laughter died down. “Rather than in the way, do you think perhaps you might be feeling a bit overlooked?”

This caught her off guard. Overlooked? She never felt ignored or unappreciated. On the contrary, Eric’s attention and gestures of love came in spades. But what was it for? What really did she have to offer? She hardly expected to stand out next to her accomplished and celebrated partner and his career, nor did she wish to dull his accomplishments or stifle him. Stability would be very nice, but so too would making a name for herself be. So what did she want – life or recognition?

“Maybe,” she finally said in a small voice, too tired now to analyze any further.

How fragile she now seemed to Michael. She had opened her heart to him, and the sense of duty and the care with which he held it felt so natural. He wished he could hold it for a little longer.

Stroking kind fingers down her forearm, he took her hand, willing her out of her trance. With a closed-eyed focus on her hand, he drew her knuckles to his lips.

“So I’ve got options,” Y/N re-stated.

“Mhmm,” sounded Michael, whose lips were still appreciating her fingers.

“And I’m building a life every day,” she continued.

"Every day,” he repeated, his thumb now taking over addressing her knuckles.

“And mine is no less important than anyone else’s?”

She knew the answer, but the question brought their eyes to meet, and he held her gaze with tenderness.

“I think anyone who meets you feels lucky that they did. I know I do.”

Y/N felt whatever was left of her distress dissolve with a heavy breath. She had been heard, and she knew with certainty that her cares were safe with him.

Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his torso, and he enveloped her shoulders with a tight grip. His voice was low in her ear:

“You know, if it was a book you were after, I rather thought you’d have asked Terry.”

Y/N wasn’t going to bother mustering the energy to protest or to come up with a nonsense reason why she’d chosen to see Michael. She was here now, and she was perfectly content with it.

“I’m very glad you didn’t,” he confessed, and having exhausted all words, he began a slow exploration of her neck, starting with nuzzling the delicate space beneath her ear. Sensing no resistance, and hearing her approving sigh, he continued down to her shoulder, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses as he went.

He was kind and patient and open, Y/N remembered as she felt herself giving over to the moment’s tenderness, her curiosity duelling with her fatigue.

With restrained eagerness, he moved along the underside of her jaw before,

“Stop stop,” she hushed.

She was fighting with her enjoyment, but this was not a good time to discover feelings. All she wanted now was comfort and sleep. She looked at her kindred Michael half-apologetically, and he shifted aside, making a space for her to lie down and sleep. He reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, and gently pulled the sheet up to cover their spooning bodies.

Out on the patio under the moonlight, Eric lay on a lounge chair, gazing into the sky and contemplating several things: Ricky and Penelope’s marriage, Mick and Jerry’s affair, and the concept of unfaithfulness. And the very nature of frivolity, and luxury, and everything he learned from the swinging sixties of liberation and self-indulgence. And, unexpectedly, Michael.

He wriggled in his spot, unable to relax. I need to write this, he thought. He worked most things out through writing, and now he would turn to his typewriter, get his musings out on paper, and try to make some sort of sense of his brain soup.

[thewildwaffle]

Unknown Powers

Entry Log Post Crash: Day 1

In all honesty, I am surprised by the number of our unit that survived the crash. Thank the stars, though. It could have been worse, it could have been so much worse. When the ship’s engines took damage yesterday and we started falling from the planet’s orbit, I thought we were all goners.

I suppose our survival is largely thanks to Human Fatima who risked her life and grabbed everyone and yanked as many as she could reach into the nearest closet. Between her and Human James and Biet Kuhir bracing the walls, we made it out with relatively minor injuries. I mean, we were all hurting, our medic is busy as frewan, but we're all alive.

The humans showed us how to construct some "lean-tos" out of parts of the ship to sleep in tonight. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Apparently survival training in the wilderness is part of human upbringing? Or part of their required disciplines? I’m not sure. Before, I would have said that such requirements would have been a bit excessive, but now? I and every other survivor are very thankful for their preparedness.

Hopefully tomorrow we can figure out the rest of what we need: clean water, safe food sources, etc. I'm just glad we have scanners. They could very well be lifesavers for those tasks.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 3

I said earlier that no one in our unit had sustained too serious of injuries. That's not to say anyone's in great condition, but we're hobbling around as best we can. The humans seem to be recovering remarkably fast. I know, I know, that may sound like their typical MO, but even medic Kippari Sefra seemed a bit taken back by their recovery and improved mobility. All's for the best, I suppose, the rest of the unit seems to barely be in commission. The humans have managed to forage and gather food and have been carrying water from a spring they found not too far from our site. They even gathered wood and started two fires in our camp yesterday. They left Kuhir and I and a few others to tend to them on shifts as they continue to gather supplies or construct better shelters. I don't know where they've found this newfound energy of theirs, but may the stars bless them.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 8

Humans are weird, but I don’t think even they are supposed to be this weird.

Our camp has transformed into a nearly proper little village with all the work the humans have put into it. And it’s just the two of them! They are tireless, I swear! But not in the way they usually are, no. Everyone knows humans have ridiculous levels of endurance. This goes way beyond that. They move as if their blood’s been replaced with trimethylxanthine, or as they fondly call it, caffeine. Our scanners have not found any trace of the poison in the air or in any of the plants we’ve been consuming, so it’s not caffeine. Even if it was, their levels of energy still go beyond that. I’ve seen a human on caffeine plenty of times, they took out a third of an enemy boarding party on their own with nothing but a bent pipe. They’re crazy energetic, but then they always crash and need extra sleep.

Humans Fatima and James just keep going though, at even higher and higher levels of energy. Medic Kippari has been monitoring them, but they seem fine. They keep telling us to stop worrying and that they’ve never felt better.

But that’s not even the weirdest part.

Since the camp has been coming along so well, and since I’ve been able to get some rest and healing, I volunteered to go out with Human Fatima to help gather food. There are a lot of trees nearby and many have fruits that our scanners have confirmed are safe for everyone to eat. We were gathering up as many foods as we could in the baskets we had woven from some sturdy grasses when Fatima spied some fruits. They were ones we had found early on to be safe and they were so good we had eaten as many as we could until they started becoming scarce in our immediate area. These were the first ones we had found in a few days. The problem was, they were at the top of a very tall tree. Humans, turriets, and even a few of the larger skeeps are pretty decent at climbing trees, but this tree had no good holds or branches low enough to reach.

Did that stop Human Fatima? IT SHOULD HAVE?!?!?!

She put down her basket, braced herself and jumped. And I mean jumped. Like, five times her own height!

Now, I can’t say that I’m a human expert by any means, but even I know that’s not normal! What in the shining light is going on around here?!!?!

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 9

Okay, still pretty freaked out from yesterday. No one knows how Fatima can jump like that, the gravity on this planet is normal. I suppose that’s a bit lighter than gravity on their home planet, but not by much. Certainly not enough for a 50 crute jump straight up! After we got back to the camp and informed everyone, especially Medic Kippari, who is getting more and more overwhelmed with trying to figure out all the strange behaviors and changes of our humans. As soon as Human James found out what Fatima did, he tried doing the same. The humans have gotten stuck in the tops of trees three times today alone.

The most confounding thing is that no one else in our unit seems to be experiencing the same changes. 

No one’s sure how to feel about this. Whatever’s going on with the humans, they still seem to be in a stable condition. Granted, it’s a weird and unprecedented condition as far as anyone here’s concerned, but it’s stable. Even if it wasn’t, it’s not like we can really do anything about it in our situation. 

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 13

We were attacked today. Wild creatures native to this planet were passing through and must not have liked that we were in their territory. They showed no signs of advanced intelligence or sentience, just feral hunger and viciousness. We could hear them braying long before we saw them. I’ll be honest, I was very tempted to hide myself in the rough shelters with the wounded - the beasts were terrifying! - but I knew I could never live with myself after such cowardice. I grabbed what weapons I could and waited. When the pack of them came into our little clearing, I started praying my last rites. I was sure this would be it.

The creatures were huge, hairy, and had wicked tusks and sharp claws on the end of each of their six legs. What really got me were the pale eyes though. Looking into them, I thought my soul would liquify into my toes. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just hoping beyond a hope that they would leave us be. They didn’t though, the breeze shifted towards them and they started approaching and snarling with what I’m sure must have been hunger.

Before they could get too far, Fatima and James jumped at them, yelling and screaming. This startled everyone, but the monsters seemed to recover quicker and weren’t happy. I know a lot of crews like having humans around because of their reckless bravery and fierce protective instincts for those they bond with, but in that moment, I cursed them. I thought for sure they would be ripped to shreds in front of our eyes.

Instead, as the beasts leapt, the humans would grab them right out of the air and toss them across the clearing like they were a pack of gooji fruits. Their numbers swarmed the humans, but beyond any scrap of logic or understanding, the humans kept fighting, punching, scratching, throwing, etc.

I’m not sure how long it all went on, I was too numb from shock to correctly account for time, but eventually the pack of creatures retreated, squealing in fear of the strange monsters that kept them from what should have been an easy meal.

We checked them over and couldn’t believe what we saw. They weren’t hurt at all. Those beasts had been all over them, cutting, slashing and biting, but the humans’ skin looked like they’d hardly been touched.

I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on. I… something is wrong, or… hhhhhhrrrrr… this is weird. This is weird and I feel sick with worry. What is going on with our humans?!?!

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 16

Okay. I’m going to be honest with you, entry log and whoever finds this. Things just keep getting weirder and weirder, and I fear I’m just starting to get to a point where I can no longer be shocked. That may just be a defense mechanism, after all, if I continued to freak out over everything that’s been going on with Humans Fatima and James, I think I would mentally break down.

I just… I guess this is just happening. … Anyway.

Developments with the humans since we crashed on the planet’s surface include: rapid healing, increased strength and endurance, nearly impenetrable skin (as far as we dare test), extremely high jumping, night vision, increased speed and agility, super-keen hearing, and apparently the radiation of the sun doesn’t bother their skin in the slightest (this is apparently a problem on their home planet), in fact being in the sun all day, hard at work I might add) they seem to end up all the more radiant and full of energy. *sigh* Well, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started flying or whatever next.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 20

The humans can now fly. Well, not properly fly, fly. More like when they reach the zenith of their jumps, they can hover a bit and control their descent. Do you want to know what my reaction was when I saw that for the first time? I just said, “Sure. This might as well happen.” Because that’s basically where I’m at now. No one knows what the frewan is going on. Hopefully the Glip Unit will have some insight.

Oh yea, I forgot to mention, we got a transmitter to work from the ship’s wreckage. Um, yeah, that probably should have been, like, the first thing I said, but honestly humans are flying now so…

Anyway, we made contact with the Glip Unit, apparently they were able to survive as well. They suffered a few casualties and had more injured than our unit, but considering their unit is larger, the probability of that being the case was high. The section of the ship they were in must have broke off from ours when we fell. They’ve got some humans in their unit, so maybe they have some insight for us. They’re bringing their tech too, so hopefully we can build a transmitter strong enough to send an SOS off-world.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 25

The Glip Unit arrived today. They have four humans in their group. That’s how they were able to pack over what must have basically been half the wreckage from their part of the ship. As well as their injured, supplies, and important resources from near their crash site. Everyone carried as much as they could, but they, or I mean the humans, carried the vast bulk. They crashed over 40 PS units away from us. So obviously their humans are experiencing the same changes ours are. 

The ship’s chief science officer was with them though, and they did have a few interesting theories as to what caused these impossible changes. The most widely believed ones have to do with radiation. We’re not sure from what though, or why it’s not affecting anyone else. Human James brought it up that it was from the sun’s radiation. This planet is orbiting a blue giant. I think he was jesting because he also went on to explain about some “super man” who was from a planet with a red giant of a star who came to Earth and the yellow star’s radiation gave him incredible (and I mean that literally that they surely cannot be credible) super powers like super strength, x-ray and heat vision, super speed, and flight. Okay, that last one really made me stop and consider for a second. Well, those last two points actually.

But… no. That story is preposterous and obviously fictional. I’m pretty sure I even heard something about a “comic book.” From what I understand of human culture, I believe that means it’s just a fictional story made for entertainment or propaganda. Even the other humans, although more willing to entertain the idea, surely have taken it as a joke the way they are laughing and going on about it.

There must be some other reason. A logical explanation.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 38

I realize it’s been a while since my last entry. I had to share my “bunk” as it were with some of the newcomers from the other unit and somehow misplaced my comm device in the shuffle. I’ve spent the better part of two days looking for this flargin’ thing. Turns out I had left it by the meal preparation fire spot. How did I find it? I didn’t. Human Rafael of the Glip Unit did. How? Apparently, when he found out I had lost it, he tracked it down through scent.

I’ve read the human handbook. I know that humans don’t have the greatest sense of smell, especially not in comparison to my own. And yet, I couldn’t track down my own comm device, but a human could. I’ve added this to the very long and still-growing list of new and improved abilities the humans have exhibited since arriving.

Well, um, also there’s been a bit of activity in the past twelve days while my comm was missing. Like I said, the Glip Unit moved in. Everything has been very smooth with combining forces and resources. We managed to set up a transmitter that’s been sending out a signal and how to find us this last week. We haven’t had any feedback from it yet, but it’s only been a few days.

We had a few more native creatures visit our camp. None as scary as the first beasts that attacked us, though there was a flock of small flying reptiles that took to dive bombing and biting at us. Once they were scared off, we later found that Humans James, Mae, and Boris had caught a few and were attempting to keep them as pets. We had them release their “tiny dragons” as they called them.

They weren’t happy, but listened and followed. Honestly at this point, I’m just glad the humans are still respecting the established line of authority. This is a wild planet, after all. We’re surrounded by nature’s laws of the strongest doing as they please, and honestly, the humans are without a doubt the strongest here. I don’t think they’ll do anything, stars forbid if they decided to mutiny. I do believe in our bonds though. I have faith in their loyalty and our friendships. Humans, even before all the weirdness this planet has added to them, have always been renowned for their legendary familial ties and pack bonding. I don’t think these new powers can strip them of that.

And honestly, I hope that my faith is accurately placed, because if not, we are in trouble.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 44

I hope that our signal will be found, but no one knows how long that will take for it to heard and then send a response and for them to arrive to save us. It could be tomorrow, it could be… well it could be a long time from tomorrow.

The humans are concerned about food supplies. At first, many of us were confused at why. There’s plenty of fruit in the trees, roots in the ground, and non-poisonous wildlife to hunt. It was pointed out by some in my unit that such supplies could change. Their home planets, as well as the human’s planet experience what are known as seasons. It could be warm and plentiful for a space of time now, but it could rotate through times of cold barrenness that we are not currently prepared for.

We don’t know enough about the orbital path and tilt of this planet to know if such seasons could affect us.

Even though we’re not sure, the humans have been arguing that we should prepare for “winter.” They want to do this by reinforcing our huts for possible cold weather, gathering extra wood and storing it for fires, gathering soft plant fibers or tanning hides from some of the beasts that the humans and biets have killed for food, saying that they could make extra clothes with them to keep warm. For the most part, these actions seem pretty harmless, they are using the resources or byproducts of resources we’re already using. On some, the preparations are a bit time-consuming, but honestly, if it’s keeping the humans busy and occupied in their “spare time,” all the better.

The only real qualms some have with their preparations are the human’s requests to start planting seeds from the fruits and plants we’ve gathered for food. That would make sense in the long-run, but I had to voice my concerns with everyone - I know enough about human cultures to know that if they begin cultivating crops, the rest of humanity might view this planet as a human colony. It wouldn’t matter if the humans had only planted the crops for survival. Or if those humans were crew members of a Galactic Confederation crew. Similar things have happened with planets in the past, and the political disputes are still going on. I just… I don’t want to go there. The humans have argued that if they don’t do something to stock up for winter, we won’t even be around for such future disputes. I argued that we don’t even know if this planet will have a winter.

Acting Lieutenant Greetch decided that we would not allow crops to be planted. The humans weren’t happy, and honestly, I’m a little nervous. Not just because the humans are upset with the decision, but also because, what if they’re right? What if winter comes and we starve?

By the stars, I hope we’re found soon.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 50

We received a response to our SOS signal! It’s from a Galactic Confederation ship. They’re coming for us! We’re getting out of here!

Everyone’s thrilled. We’re preparing a party of sorts - lots of food and games. Might as well use up the resources we’ve gathered, we’ve got plenty and will be gone soon anyway. We’ll even have left-overs to bring aboard the ship when it arrives, barring no one aboard has any allergies to our local fruits.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 61

We saw the ship hovering in the sky this morning, high up in the atmosphere. By midday, several shuttles had been launched down to ferry us and our supplies aboard.

The Captain of the ship, Captain Benga, and a few officers and medics came down to survey our condition. They were impressed by our camp and even more so with the means of how it was put together. They’re just as baffled with the humans’ current condition as we are, though their medic did agree that some form of radiation did seem a possible cause. Captain Benga has asked that I turn in my entry logs once we get settled on the ESS Chickar. 

I thought the humans would be happy to leave. However, I noticed they were the last ones to board the shuttles. They wandered forlornly through the huts that we were leaving behind, claiming that they were going to give the place “one last check to make sure nothing important is left behind.” Human Fatima had to be ordered to her seat after the second “all aboard” call was given.

I have a sneaking suspicion, or rather, maybe more of a foreboding feeling, that humanity is not done with the planet that they now insist on naming Krypton.

***

End Entry Log.  Recording uploaded Galactic Stardate 208.147.4.2601 Data stored and copied aboard ESS Chickar.

Additional Notes:

Chief Medical Officer Squifra Gharti under Captain Liutan Benga. Concerning the humans found and rescued from the planet Tarsi 6 (Krypton) among Units Glip and Sen of the former ESS Luxena.

The six humans in question were found possessing awe-inspiring capabilities. From the included Entry Log, as well as from our own testing, we have listed their abilities to include prolonged stamina, vastly increased strength, agility, hearing, vision, smell, and speed. Healing speeds have been recorded up to 62 times more rapid than usual with certain injuries, though more serious wounds are unknown and will remain untested for obvious ethical reasons. Muscular structure appears to have remained largely unchanged from control group (humans assigned to ESS Chickar, as well as human anatomical information sources) and yet and capable of feats such as jumps over 67 standard miets, and are able to hover at the peak of their jump for up to a recorded two moortiks. Since the rescue, the limits of their new-found capabilities seem to be waning, albeit slowly. Time and additional study will be needed to know if the effects from the still-unknown source any of these changes on the planet will be permanent, or cause any additional side-effects in the future. Recommendation will include additional study as soon as we arrive at an appropriate facility. In the meantime, we are keeping the humans quarantined from our own crew’s humans in case any residual radiation affects them.

Many of the Luxena humans have shared insights that their changes were pleasant and wish to return to the planet. I would recommend keeping the information of all this within the Galactic Confederation confidentials for now. We do not need rogue humans or Earth agencies traveling to Krypton and then wreaking havoc on the rest of the galaxy.

[buckleysjareau]

when i’m walking in my sleep

anonymous asked:

Hii, i love your writing, just finished your new buddie fic. Loved it! If you have inspiration for a storyline like the following i would be so happy to read: Eddie taking care of Buck after the screw removing surgery.

I deleted the original post due to it not showing up in the tags, so sorry if you didn’t see it, anon! But here it is again :) 

trigger warnings for this: use of painkillers even though taken as prescribed, mention of an unspecified nightmare, and to be safe emetophobia as it’s mentioned

Eddie has always had the innate need to care for the ones he loves and the ones who need it. When he was five, he tried his hardest alongside his sisters to save an injured squirrel that ended up at their doorstep. He’d take care of his parents when either one of them was sick as he grew up. The need to help everyone never simmered, only grew when he joined the Army, boiled over when Christopher was born. Firefighting was the perfect job for Eddie, he got to feed his desire to help those in need and find the camaraderie within his team that he’d been missing since his Army days. 

Helping people helps him, so he really can’t stop himself from jumping at the opportunity to take Buck home after he gets his screws out when everyone else’s schedules are too busy. He cares about Buck a lot -- maybe too much and not in the way someone cares about their best friend -- so making sure he’s okay and comfortable after a surgery he knows Buck was scared shitless for, it’s not a big deal for Eddie. 

He finds that maybe he’s a little in over his head when Buck greets him with a loopy smile. He’s just a tiny bit in love with Evan Buckley, and having dealt with post-surgery Buck before, Eddie is sure his heart might burst with every zany grin and stage-whispered expression of appreciation.

Buck’s surgeon, who Eddie has met more times than one should have, strolls into the dimly lit recovery room with an amused smile. “Good to see you awake.”

Buck snickers. “You say that every time, Doc. Soon you’re going to have to stop acting surprised that I’m invincible.”

Eddie can’t tell if what Buck just said makes sense, a twenty-four hour shift with very little sleep does things to your common sense, but his doctor seems like he’s heard it before.

His doctor shakes his head, albeit fondly, as if it’s something he expects but can’t believe he’s hearing. “How many times am I going to have to warn you that you’re not invincible before you stop ending up in my OR?” Eddie suspects every time. “Hopefully, there won’t be a next surgery for you Mr. Buckley. The screws are out, everything should be smooth sailing after that, unless you decide to test that invincibility theory.” 

Eddie can’t hold back the laugh as Buck���s face displays his disbelief. “I may be stupid, doc, but I’m no idiot.”

His doctor turns to face Eddie as he facepalms. “I wish you all the luck and patience in the world taking care of this one.” He jests.

“You know I’m always gonna need it, Doc.” Eddie grins. “There anything I should watch out for or steer clear of with him?”

“You know, the usual; don’t let him walk without his crutches, make sure he eats before he takes his next dose of pain medicine we’re sending home with him, and keep him off the leg as much as possible. Elevate it, ice it if the pain gets too much, spare some time for your own sanity.”

Buck grumbles. “I’m not that bad, right? Tell him, Eds.”

“My mom taught me to always tell the truth.” Eddie teases but relents when the pout Buck gives goes straight to his heart. “Fine. You’re a joy to be around, Evan Buckley.”

“You heard him, Doc! I’m a joy to be around!” 

“Never said you weren’t, Buck, just saying your joy is here more than either of us would like.” He smirks. “Alright, alright, I’m sure Eddie wants to get out of here as much as you do so you’re free to go. Everything looks fine post-surgery and as long as you take correct care, it’ll stay fine. You know to call me if there’s an infection or it takes longer to heal than it should, you know the drill. I will see you in six weeks, Buck. Please not a second sooner?”

Buck sends him a sloppy thumbs up and thanks him, says he can’t promise anything but he’ll try his best and Eddie doesn’t want to think about waiting through another one of his surgeries. He’s fine with the aftercare, but waiting to see if Buck came out of each surgery alive is something similar to hell, he’s sure.

When the doctor leaves, Buck looks Eddie’s way. “Eddddieeeeee, my man, a little help?”

Eddie shakes his head and grabs the bag of Buck’s clothes before going to help Buck sit up on the side of the stretcher he was on.

Buck giggles. “My hospital gown is open in the back so don’t look. My ass isn’t really my best feature.”

Well that’s a straight up lie.

“Aw, Eds, thank you. Your butt’s pretty great too.” Buck grins like the compliment means the world to him. The implied compliment that Eddie definitely did not mean to say aloud.

The only thing that keeps him from hiding himself in embarrassment is that Buck is as high as a kite on his painkillers and most likely won’t remember even leaving the hospital. 

He prays the blush doesn’t show on his face as he helps Buck into his basketball shorts. He couldn’t tell you why he gets flustered every time he had to help Buck this way. They were adults, it wasn’t anything domestic, really, just… intimate. He’d help whenever and whatever way Buck needed, because if Eddie Diaz was anything, he wasn’t shy. He was never uncomfortable. Just flustered beyond belief. 

Buck falls back onto the stretcher dramatically after he’s got his shorts on, taking Eddie down with him. He’s laughing hysterically as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s body in a side hug.

“Hey, Eddie?” He looks up at him. “You’re strong. Can you carry me to your truck?”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think so, buddy. I can ask for a wheelchair?”

Buck snorts. “Being wheeled out is just embarrassing, man,”

“And being carried out isn’t?”

He responds with a whine. “You don’t have to be smart all the time, you know? My bones feel like they’ve been replaced by jelly, you won’t even try?”

Eddie fondly rolls his eyes. “You can lean on me, okay? I don’t have to carry you to not let you fall, Buck, I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got me?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you. Now, up you go.” 

By the time Buck is settled in Eddie’s living room, foot elevated under a pillow on the coffee table and more blankets than Buck could ever need by his side, they’re both exhausted. Eddie plops down next to Buck on the couch and doesn’t question it when he leans his head on Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow when Buck moans. “You alright?”

“I don’t wanna throw up.” He whines. “Make it go away.”

“You’re nauseous?” Eddie asks, already standing to get the trashcan from his bathroom for him but is stopped by Buck. “I’ll be right back, just gonna get you the trashcan just in case.”

Eddie has always hated pain medicine. He hates not having any sense of control of what he’s saying if he’s going to remember it the next day, he hates the nausea that comes with, and he hates that every time, without fail, it makes Buck cry.

His lip is quivering as he looks up at Eddie, and it’s just then that Eddie realizes how actually gone he was for Evan Buckley. 

“Don’t leave me.” Eddie probably would have teased him if Buck had been whining but he wasn’t. There was real fear in his voice, like Eddie would leave out the bathroom window or something. 

“So you’re not nauseous anymore?” He goes with instead, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. He remembers Buck calling it the dad stance, but if it gets Buck to let go of his shirt so he can grab something to stop him from vomiting on his floor, he’ll use it.

Buck shakes his head, stopping abruptly as he pales.

Eddie snorts. “Don’t lie to me ever again.” He reaches for Buck’s face, cupping his jaw in his hand and rubbing his thumb across his cheek. “Let me at least get you a bowl. You’ll be able to see me better in the kitchen.”

Buck finally lets go of the grip on Eddie’s shirt and turns to watch Eddie walk away. Eddie hates himself for the way he subconsciously walks to maybe impress Buck. Thanks to the painkillers, he knows that Buck thinks his ass is nice, he can feel Buck’s eyes watching the back of him, and Eddie prays that Buck is at least the slightest bit interested in him. 

What is he thinking? There’s no way Buck could be interested. They’re best friends, that’s all they are, it doesn’t matter how stupidly and pathetically in love Eddie is. 

Buck is half asleep by the time Eddie is back with a bowl that shouldn’t be missed. 

The second Eddie sits down next to him and hands Buck the bowl, he holds it to his chest and goddamnit why is this so adorable? 

“I doubt you’ll make it through the first minutes of it, let alone an episode, but you down to watch Avatar?”

Buck smiles tiredly, eyes refusing to open. “As long as you’re talking about The Last Airbender and not the creepy movie.”

Eddie chuckles. “You think Avatar is creepy?”

“You don’t?” Buck raises an eyebrow, still not opening his eyes, and gives Eddie a look that says he’s shocked no one else feels the same. “I read somewhere there’s a new one coming out in 2021, like, why?”

Eddie snickers. “I can kind of understand your fear of Child’s Play because it’s supposed to be horror, but c’mon, Avatar? I cried, if I remember correctly.”

Buck gasps. “Child’s Play is horror, thank you very much, and terrifying. End of discussion. Put on The Last Airbender so I can stop thinking about that thing.” 

“That thing has a name, Buck. Chucky. He’s your friend ‘til the end.” Eddie teases but opens Netflix on his TV, quickly selecting from his Keep Watching list. 

Buck doesn’t say anything after that and Eddie assumes he’s asleep, until Buck mumbles something. 

“What was that?”

“Would you stop being my friend if you knew I was in love with you?” Eddie hears him loud and clear this time but he’s stunned at what comes from his best friend, disbelief that he even heard him correctly. 

“Come again?” 

When Eddie doesn’t get a response, he turns and finds that Buck fell asleep right after he gives him a heart attack. 

Fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic. Though he thinks he heard Buck loud and clear, it can’t be right. He dreamed of Buck reciprocating his feelings many times before, but that’s all Eddie could ever believe it was. Dreams. He hadn’t even known Buck was interested in men, let alone interested in him. 

Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s in his head for, but when he notices the sweat glistening on Buck’s forehead, none of it matters. He places the back of his hand on Buck’s forehead, fearing a fever due to an infection or flu, but he doesn’t have a fever.

Then Buck jolts and suddenly Eddie knows what’s going on. It’s not the first time he’s seen Buck in the middle of a nightmare, it’s not his first time dealing with nightmares, either, so he knows what to do.

He distances himself from Buck as far as he can and still is able to shake him. He knows from personal experience to never stay close when waking someone from a nightmare, the black eye he’d accidentally given Buck one night being proof. 

“Hey, Buck, you gotta wake up, buddy.” He shakes his shoulder lightly. “It’s just a nightmare, you’re not there.”

When Buck doesn’t wake up after a third try, Eddie tries a different tactic and scoots a little closer, grabbing Buck’s shoulder and shaking heavier than before. “Evan, Evan, wake up!”

Buck jolts awake, Bobby’s name on the tip of his tongue, swallowed by a scream. He can’t catch his breath, Eddie can tell he hasn’t fully grasped that wherever he just was in his nightmare was long gone and that he’s safe so he does everything he can to clear that fog. 

He takes Buck’s shaking hand in his own and squeezes. “Hey, Evan, you’re at my place, on my couch, nowhere near any danger. You’re safe, okay?”

He can practically see the fog clear from his mind, taking in his surroundings and squeezes Eddie’s hand in his. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, man, I’m here. Feeling calmer?”

Before Buck can respond, he winces and muffles a scream of pain by biting on his lip. Eddie jumps into action as Buck grabs onto the bottom of his cast tightly, as to squeeze out the agony he was feeling. 

Eddie checks the time. “You’re due for your next dose of your painkiller at least.”

But Buck isn’t listening to him. He’s too focused on the pain that Eddie can only now vaguely remember after getting the bullet removed from his shoulder. Before long, Eddie realizes Buck is mumbling something in between choked sobs and muffled screams of agony.

“Evan,” He tries to use his name again in hopes it’ll get him to focus on Eddie and not the pain. 

Buck’s face is twisted in pain when he finally looks at Eddie and not for the time, he wishes he could take Buck’s pain away. 

“I hate Freddie Costas. I hate him so much.” He sobs freely, still holding his bad leg like it’s a matter of life or death. “Fuck, it hurts.”

Eddie stands. “I’m gonna get your pain pills and an ice pack.”

Buck gulps the pill down with no water and Eddie has to stop himself from finding that oddly one of the most attractive things he’s seen Buck do. He also holds back a cringe, never one for taking pills in any way. 

As Eddie unwraps the beginnings of Buck’s cast, Buck starts to calm, his tears slow, his body relaxes against Eddie’s side. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers. 

“Don’t be. Trust me when I say I get it.” He looks Buck directly in the eyes. “Never feel sorry about feeling things.” 

He doesn’t ask if he wants to talk about it. He knows Buck will talk about it if or when he wanted so it ends up being a useless question. 

It’s quiet again after that. The only sounds that could be heard around Eddie’s was their breathing and the air conditioner running. Avatar is paused on the TV and Eddie doesn’t make any move to unpause it. 

Then Eddie is in his head again.

If he heard right, why would Buck be into him? He wants more than anything for it to be true, but he couldn’t see how it would be true. But he knows he heard what Buck asked, knows he should be thrilled Buck loves him back, but the doubts eat him up. What if he was just asking in general, not personally? What if he thought he was talking to someone else? Maybe he’s exaggerating his gratefulness for taking care of him and he means it platonically?

It’s killing him not knowing.

Eddie clears his throat. “Hey, uh- earlier you asked- before you fell asleep, do you-”

He’s a stuttering mess, hasn’t stumbled over his words this much since he asked Shannon out in their senior year. 

Buck cuts in, putting him out of his misery. “If you’re asking if I remember asking you if you’d still stay my friend if you found out I was in love with you, then yes, I do remember and I’m so sorry.”

Sorry for what? I’m sorry I was just loopy, it was just a question, I’m not actually in love with you? 

Buck swallows hard. “Do you hate me?”

Eddie’s eyes widened completely at the question. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I’m in love with you and continued to be your friend without telling you as such?” 

His heart is racing a mile a minute because Evan Buckley loved him back and he’d had no idea the entire time. He shakes his head with a smile and unshed tears burning his eyes. “I would be the biggest hypocrite if I hated you for that.”

It looks as though Buck hadn’t heard right as he shook his head, but he hopes he understands. 

“Come again?” Eddie can’t help but snort at how similar Buck and him are sometimes. “Why are you crying? Don’t cry!”

“I’m crying because I love you and I just found out it’s reciprocated, okay? Give me a second here.” He lets out a mix between a laugh and a cry. “Holy shit, you love me!”

Eddie’s mind is reeling. The more the shock wears off, the more joy and excitement he starts to feel. 

“You love me!” Buck grins and leans forward, stopping to look Eddie in the eye and ask for permission -- which he eagerly grants -- and soon, what Eddie dreamed of since the Grenade Incident is happening. Their lips touch and Eddie Diaz tries not to be a cliche, but it’s a whole show of fireworks, kissing Buck. More than he could have ever imagined. 

It’s an hour later, and they’re laying in Eddie’s bed, bodies pressed up against the other. Eddie hasn’t felt so secure in years, can’t even remember a time when things felt right until then. Lying next to Buck, things feel light for the first time since he doesn’t know how long, and the feeling of security is what lulls Eddie to sleep. 

Until Buck starts to sniffle and then Eddie is wide awake again.   

“You okay, Buck?”

Buck shakes his head rapidly with a pout. “No, I have to pee.” 

He tries to keep in his laughter, he really does, but the shock and amusement outweighs his ability not to laugh at things that aren’t funny to other people. 

Buck sniffles once more. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re adorable and I love you.” Eddie’s lips quirk into a soft smile. “Now, c’mon, up you go.” 

Buck grumbles. “Love you too.”

When he’s done, Eddie turns back to get his crutches and gets the surprise of a lifetime when Buck reaches out to slap his ass.

“Hey!” 

“What? I did tell you you had a nice ass.”

“Oh my God.”

[if-the-crown-fits-translate-it]

Discord pt 103

[Date: 25/03, 12:17 AM GMT - 25/03, 3:41 AM GMT]  

[CW for drug mention, descriptions of violence, torture mention, suffocation mention]

[Page appears in chat and begins a game of “Smile Charades” by telling the server to draw their attention to their Spotify playlist called “The Court?”, which consists of the following songs: “Break My Mind” by Dagames, “I’m the Bad Guy” by Caleb Hyles, “Echo” by Crusher-P, “Break the Rules” by Charlie XCX, “Discord” by The Living Tombstone, “The Fine Print” by The Stupendium, “I Can’t Decide” by Scissor Sisters, “Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing” by Set it Off, “Entropy” by Awkward Marina, “Happy Pills” by Weathers, “The Pitiful Children” by Eric William Morris, and “Monster” by KIRA. The server then proceeds to guess what Page could be trying to imply by this choice of songs. The following conversation ensures:]

jayyyyyyyy: “oh, happy pills is such a good song! kinda makes me sad in a way tho, ykno? its so upbeat but its basically about taking drugs so youre not truly yourself, ykno?”

Page 👑: “....

:)”

Jack the Observer 👁: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “huh, kinda makes me wonder if those plants are the result of drugs? or maybe theyre not, i might be looking at this the wrong way,”

Page 👑: “....”

jayyyyyyyy: “ah, either way its fine! just me wondering out loud, ykno? :]”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “wow, what a unique and interesting message! thank you for the playlist, page, its really eye opening and neat to listen to :]”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “wow, what a fun song about partying and breaking the rules! ,i sure hope, none of ,the court does that!, :]”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “ooo i cant decide is a good one, a classic, especially for those in uh. *looks at writing smudged on wrist* ...the my little pony fandom...”

Page 👑: “....”

jayyyyyyyy: “its so cool! love how the singer has conflicting feelings about their attachment to the one theyre torturing, how they ultimately have to decide whether they want to be good and spare their life, or if they want to continue with the torture”

Page 👑: “:)”

[After a few minutes, the server wonders why Page is being so quiet and only responding in “:)”]

jayyyyyyyy: “nono, its okay, its like a yes or no thing

quiet for no, a smile for yes

is that right, page?”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “pog! alright”

jayyyyyyyy: “okay, so still gotta find what youre picking up from this

are you not a big fan of concerts either?”

Page 👑: “....”

jayyyyyyyy: “oh, you like em?”

Page 👑: “:)

....”

jayyyyyyyy: “okay, you do like concerts! something else too tho”

[After a few minutes of conversation among the server members asking Page whether he liked concerts, or if being with the Court was like being in a concert, or if he wanted to continue the conversation in the direction of the topic of concerts, or if he wanted to talk about other topics, all of which were met with a resounding silence from Page-]

[jayyyyyyyy: “music?”]

Page 👑: “:)”

donti (e) (child): “music! alright

want to narrow the topic some more, page?”

Page 👑: “:)”

donti (e) (child): “so im assuming this is about your playlist?”

Page 👑: “:)”

donti (e) (child): “do you want us to focus on... lyrics?”

Page 👑: “:)”

donti (e) (child): “so like the tone?”

jayyyyyyyy: “well i think we already get the vibe, ykno”

donti (e) (child): “or the feel of all the songs together?”

Page 👑: “:)....”

donti (e) (child): “is there a common thread were supposed to be seeing?

Page 👑: “:)

[After some deliberation, it turned out that the common thread wasn’t about the laurels or drugs, but was about specific songs.]

jayyyyyyyy: “alright! so youre focusing on uhhh

break my mind

im the bad guy

echo

discord 50/50

wolf in sheeps clothing

entropy 50/50

happy pills 50/50

and monster”

Page 👑: “:)”

[jayyyyyyyy: “does "im the bad guy" apply to crown here?”]

Page 👑: “:)....”

jayyyyyyyy: “aight

is crown one of the common demoninators here?”

Page 👑: “:)....”

jayyyyyyyy: “aight

uhhh

im the bad guy is about.. fuck, i half remember half dont

if i remember correctly, the villain is explaining that whatever evils theyve faced before, shes much more powerful than them, and doesnt need their assistance because shes fine on her own

but

im guessing page is more focusing on. Uh”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “oh! okay

okay, i got it

hm.. echo is about.. well, its kinda hard to say

let me look at the lyrics again

actually, this song is a perfect way to sum up the courts situation

"the echo in the mirror"

like.. youre fighting yourself? youre trapped in yourself, fighting yourself to be free”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “pog! alright

so uhh

so far we have uhh

being stuck and fighting yourself is something im seeing rn

and the other one.. i think its better if i dont say it

am i right on the fighting yourself theme tho?”

Page 👑: “:)”

Ethza: “someone that's not crown??

"someone else"”

Page 👑: “:)”

Ethza: “OKAY

didnt expect that

so who

not crown

themselves?”

Page 👑: “:).....”

Ethza: “hm

eachother?”

donti (e) (child): “are,,, are the people who wear the crowns... pulling at the strings of their body??”

Page 👑: “....”

Ethza: “Hm”

jayyyyyyyy: “okay so

im assuming its crown and the court?”

Ethza: “but its not crown

its someone else”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “hmm”

Ethza: “that was my first guess

so

someone else”

jayyyyyyyy: “okay! okay

and probably obvious but youre being controlled by your court version?”

Ethza: “but something else is controlling you”

Page 👑: “:)”

Ethza: “is it your court self?

the laurels?

something else?

feel free to respond to those separately”

jayyyyyyyy: “what, pray tell, the fuck are the laurels”

Page 👑: “:)”

[Ethza: “the laurels?”]

Page 👑: “....”

[Ethza: “something else?”]

Page 👑: “....:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “alright

hmmmm okay so

court selves are controlling the og selves, and crown is manipulating the court”

Ethza: “the court selves....aren't what they seem?”

Page 👑: “:)”

Ethza: “i was really hoping that wouldn't be right”

jayyyyyyyy: “well i dont think the court selves are evil”

Ethza: “i don't know if we'd call them good”

jayyyyyyyy: “theyre being manipulated, ykno? and theyre.. kinda stuck in an unwinable situation

well yea but like

either they let their alternate selves be free and they literally suffocate, or they let themselves be free and their alternate selves suffocate

and a while, youd want fresh air, no matter how good of a person you are”

[Ethza: “i don't know if we'd call them good”]

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “alright so theyre not good

obv im still suspicious that a lot of it is bc of circumstances but still evil”

Ethza: “...hey page”

Page 👑: “:)”

Ethza: “are they something we know?”

Page 👑: “....:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “i really cant think of anything else tho

dreamons maybe?”

Page 👑: “:)

:)

:)

:)

:)

:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “uhhh

OH SHIT”

Page 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “OH FUCK

OH FUCK

OH FUCK ITS DREAMONS”

Page 👑: “:)

:)

:)

:)”

donti (e) (child): “is that a smile or a yes ??”

Page 👑: “:)

:)

:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “ITS A YES

OH MY GOD ITS DREAMONS OH FUCK”

donti (e) (child): “UH!!”

jayyyyyyyy: “OKAY

FUCK

okay

ok im. calming down”

Knight 👑: “Fetch likes this song :)” 

[DAYWALKER! by Machine Gun Kelly ft. Corpse] 

Knight 👑: “It should be obvious as to why :)”

jayyyyyyyy: “WAIT NO BUT I HAVE OTHER QUESTIONS

okay page!!

is that "thing" thats more powerful than crown the dreamons?”

Knight 👑: “Page is not in service at this time. Please check the number or try your call again. :)”

jayyyyyyyy: “oh fuck off

GOD

you mother FUCKERS

donti (e) (child): “AH IS PAGE OK”

Knight 👑: “:)”

donti (e) (child): “uhhhhhh buddy you ok”

Knight (he/they): “I see somebody talking with a mouth thats full of teeth i want to break :)”

jayyyyyyyy: “thats dumb as FUCK”

donti (e) (child): “well thats probably me time to scram :D”

jayyyyyyyy: “page did not say a single thing this entire time”

Knight 👑: “Then i'm not talking about him. :)”

jayyyyyyyy: “..neither did max”

Knight 👑: “I'm on borrowed time can't shake it :) blackout when i'm ragin'. :)”

jayyyyyyyy: “yea

again with that fuckin corpse song

hold on

huh

okay so im assuming this is just. 100% knight rn

bc you definitely did something to page

and the song daywalker is ab letting someone in on a secret and blaming them when the secret gets out

actually this song. lines up with uh

that scene”

Knight 👑: “:)”

jayyyyyyyy: “the. ykno, the murder

unless im wrong but

seems. violent”

Knight 👑: “I prayed to god and went to sleep with bloody hands :)”

jayyyyyyyy: “damn! okay

uhhh fuck

okay knight can you like. post all the lyrics youre focusing on rn?? tryna get across???”

Knight 👑: “Punch that motherfucker in the face 

you hated what he said, right? 

beat his ass, leave him at the stoplight

i know you wanted change, but nobody's around

so, kick him again while he's on the ground”

jayyyyyyyy: “thank you!”

Big G (they/them): “Uhh”

jayyyyyyyy: “....oh god i just said thank you im going SOFT

"i know you wanted change but nobodys around" is really catching my eye

"you hated what he said right" hmm”

Knight 👑: “If a pussy wanna say shit, then i'll fuckin' stomp his face in

nah, not getting better, can't change it, i left blood all on the pavement 

i'm on borrowed time, can't shake it, blackout when i'm ragin',

me and all these pills be on a fuckin' first name basis,”

jayyyyyyyy: “im kinda throwing a shot here, but is the "you hated what he said right" part about the dreamons hating what i said?”

Knight 👑: “I never said it was about page :) in fact, i told you i wasn't talking about him :)”

[illicitivywp]

mal de vivre.

The morning that Harry wakes up and you're not sleeping peacefully beside him is the worst of his entire life.

He can sense that you're not there. The air still circulates whiffs of your caramel shampoo and the breeze of your automatic fan that you always insist on leaving on all night still whirs leisurely and tickles the back of his neck.

Regardless, the room is vacant. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that much.

For now, he remains entirely numb. Immune to the flooding sobs and intolerable agony and festering anger, he supposes it's in his best interest to stay like that for a while.

For a few days, at least. Until he can fully process your absence. He's not certain how long it takes the average person to wholly recognise an entire chunk of themselves missing, but he figures he's already suffered enough.

Surely, the universe isn't that cruel.

Your love is delightedly grand, and with its sudden unavailability, he feels so dejectedly vague.

He's clearly not perceiving time correctly, perhaps it's his distant concentration or maybe even his body's method of rejecting life and the wretched torture of its innate malice.

A few times, he's experienced sleep paralysis. The first, horrifying occasion is long-forgotten, when he was seven or so - it happened only after staying up until one in the morning to watch a horror movie that he'd been specifically warned not to watch and a towering vacuum of danger stood solid as stone at the end of his bed.

If it weren't for his fingertips subconsciously tracing featherlight scribes of your name on his forearm, he might reasonably assume he's haunted with the condition once again.

A clattering of paws on hard floorboards injects a little more reality into his thoughts, and he still can't bear, physically, to turn over and greet the sweet puppy you'd snuck home and surprised him with upon his arrival home from work around a year ago, knowing that his acceptance of a familiarly-shaped void is waiting just inches away.

Eventually, and after another chaotic scramble of claws in need of a cut, Chi is bouncing enthusiastically at his side and attempting an ambitious leap onto the mattress. She fails theatrically, landing in a resounding thud on her back and launching back to her feet, completely unaware of her owner's awaiting grief.

Masking his greatest fears with scooping a palm beneath Chi's belly and hauling her upwards to nestle into his chest, the reposition forces him to lay on his back (she's always detested laying on her side, especially when smothered with adoring cuddles) and, like the coward he truly is, his eyes focus adamantly on a random spot of the pale ceiling. With every minute shuffle, it becomes more and more achingly apparent that you're really not here.

And if everything runs correctly, you'll squirm and giggle graciously at his waking before returning his kiss, to his lips, this time, and he'll suggest applying a little moisturiser, like he always does, and you'll love him like you should.

When his eyelids snap open and his head curves breezily to your claimed side of the bed, he's somewhat unsurprised to confirm that his life truly has transformed to a dreadful bundle of tragedy. In your imposing place, is a neatly-made bed and an envelope.

A single, white envelope, stained by the sweet, flowing cursive that could flow only from your touch.

Chi leaps naturally to the spectacle, sniffing curiously at the letter and nudging it around a little, whilst Harry is so unexplainably pained that he's unable to move. Swallowing thickly, he's not certain word-for-word what lies in the confines of this envelope, but he does know it'll confirm your leaving him, and for some strange reason, he's relieved you left an explanation, at least.

A souvenir of you to hang onto forever, along with the millions of other items and memories of yours in his possession.

Carefully removing it from Chi's vicinity and replacing the object of her attention with a random squeaky toy that he'd discovered burrowed beneath his bed a few nights ago, he traces your exquisite handwriting with his fingertip and reads along with inaudible movements of his mouth; For Harry, mon amour.

In that moment, he realises profoundly that he'll never get to request hearing you say different words in your accent again.

The amount of times he implored relentlessly to hear je t'aime and have it accompanied with an endearing kiss is infinite.

Harry, my love,

I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't handle the pain.

Seeing your face cures any anguish I feel, but not this time.

I really, really tried; I know you did, too. I wanted it to work out, I prayed every day that our suffering would magically end and we could return to our love, I hoped that one day I would wake and cuddle you tightly and describe this awful nightmare I'd had.

Possibly, I may write to you in the future; please, don't try to contact me, it won't work and you know it's for the best. My family and close friends know where I am, where I will be, and they also know not to tell you if you ask.

I wish I could kiss all of your heartache away and protect you from all evil in this world, but I feel my presence is detrimental to your recovery.

My love for you is never-ending. Please be okay.

Forgive me and love someone else like you loved me. Let someone else love you like I loved you. Tellement, tellement.

Forever, I'll think of you and how unbelievably content I felt waking up next to you every day for seven-hundred and eighty (? - I'm estimating) mornings straight.

I will never, ever leave our love behind, and I adore you more than I can express. Your strength and resilience are admirable, and you are truly the best thing to ever happen to me.

Mon bébé, I miss you terribly.

Toujours, ton amour.

~

Chi tugs eagerly on her lead at the sight of the familiar entrance to her home, Harry in tow right behind. Sludgy snow muddies his shoes and soaks the hem of his jeans. His puppy's paws are undoubtedly drenched, too, but her fur is protected valiantly by her favourite jacket. He'd purchased it from a specialist store in France a year prior, and, since surprising her with the present upon his shared return, it'd become her primary option during the winter months.

Retrieving a reasonable pile of letters from his designated section, a rapid flick through displays bills, scams and all of the usual junk he usually receives. He offers his elderly neighbour a polite smile and holds open the door with his knee to construct a clear path for her exit.

He grimaces slightly at the teeth-shaped arc of damp dents into his mail - he hadn't particularly considered the repercussions of carrying it that way - and unclips Chi's lead, allowing her to run rampage through his airy apartment. Absently dropping his keys into its small dish of residence and taking a closer inspection at his post to infiltrate any wrong addresses or scams, he selects an apple from his fruit bowl and steals one firm chunk before noticing something peculiar.

Groomed eyebrows knitting together in confusion, he plucks one particular letter from the bunch and stacks it to the top. Perplexed by the sorely familiar curve of the writing scrawled on the front, his head shakes in denial - you wouldn't have, surely.

Discarding of all other mail on his kitchen counter, he's puzzled beyond belief; you'd left with no verbal warning and a letter that, admittedly, had been the source of several bouts of severe depression and, in spite of its awful affects, read dutifully every single day since your disappearance.

Rashly, he wishes you hadn't changed your phone number and email address shortly before leaving so he could possibly contact you regarding this mystery. However, he knows just as well as you clearly foresaw; his topic of discussion wouldn't be only the letter.

Tearing open the corner cautiously, he's incredibly delicate with checking inside the envelope once open to ensure it contains only his presumed note. Reviewing the front with a scouring gaze of disbelief, it really, truly has come from you.

He can't remember how many times he read each postcard that you'd gifted him with at the very beginning of your relationship. You'd recently made the permanent move from France to England, and, in a new country with limited knowledge of the native language, Harry had unintentionally become your beacon of comfort here.

With his fluent French and English, he was the perfect contender for kindly correcting your terminology and educating you on the essential etiquettes of Britain. Within weeks, however, your sweet smile had changed from an enjoyable sight during your frequent coffee shop meetings to something he craved.

He misses reading your silly, awful puns based around your home country, especially his favourite. A laughably unfunny joke paired with a matching scribble of the two of you; what do french fries do when they meet? They ketchup!

Harry,

I feel awful for waiting so long to speak to you again.

Your voice and your hugs. I've imagined them every single day.

I miss my Chi. How is she? I hope she's not missing her maman. Give her a kiss from me.

And the biggest kiss to yourself, because you deserve it, mon tout.

I'm inexplicably sorry for leaving so abruptly; I just couldn't take much more. The reminders were too much. Seeing your inconsolable pain every day was too much.

I'm so, so selfish, but I still believe allowing you to heal without my troubles was the best and easiest path for both of us.

I'm sure you noticed, but I may have stolen one of our pictures. It was your favourite, and that's why I had to choose that one, I suppose. Horrible, again.

I miss your dimples (and irritating you by poking them all the time). I miss your lips, they were so soft. No wonder you always bossed me around with the lip balm - I have my own now, I take it everywhere with me.

It smells like caramel.

Most of all, I miss your love. I've never known someone to love like you do. You were, are, and always will be, incredible.

Have you found someone to love yet?

Do you still think about me? If yes, please don't.

It's not fair of me to appear out of nowhere like this and not allow you a chance to reply. If you wish, post your letter to my maman's house - I'm not there, just to crush any other hope you have, but I'll receive it.

I'll be sorry forever, mon amour.

Sois gentil avec toi-même.

Câlins pour toujours, your baby.

~

Auriele,

I'm so thankful you decided to reach out again. I've missed you. Tellement, tellement.

Chi is brilliant, still eating everything and constantly in need of a haircut. She does miss you.

My hurt is still prevalent, I've accepted that it always will be. I truly don't believe it can be fixed again, but I'm still trying.

I spent the two weeks after your leaving searching for every single picture in existence of us. I cried so many times, I wish I could tell you that I'm wholly recovered and that you're fully forgiven, but I can't.

I think I counted them all. It's either three-hundred and seventy-seven or one-thousand, one-hundred and two (I have two sticky notes labelled pictures, I'm not sure which is correct.)

No one could ever love me like you do, tu es le meilleur.

I suppose that answers both of your questions.

Thank you for the chance to respond. I was incredibly confused when I received your thoughtful letter. I'm assuming by this one's destination being your maman's house, you're in France? You don't have to answer that. I would understand.

Mon bébé chéri, je t'aime.

Harry x

~

Harry,

It was the least I could do. I hurt you doubly and you never deserved that.

Tell her I love her. Buy her an ice cream for me (note the two dollars also enclosed in this envelope!)

There aren't enough apologies in the world to properly cover the extent of my mistakes, but I'll continue gathering as many as I can. And send them straight to you.

I also wish you could truthfully claim that you're okay, and I hope, with time, that you will be. It's all you ever deserved, mon chéri. You don't ever have to forgive me. I understand entirely if you hate me.

I wouldn't be surprised if those numbers were both low counts. I loved your face, as superficial as it sounds, but it truly was prettier than anything, and my favourite thing was always surrounding myself with it. Aussi longtemps que je pouvais.

My baby, I only tried my hardest to love you, and I sincerely hope I haven't ruined your idea of love so much that I'm your standard. Please, travel, find people to connect with, fall in love with a place, if not a person.

I bet Chi would love Spain. Australia, maybe? Thailand? Your choice entirely. You always were smarter than me (i.e. I left you - doesn't get much dumber.)

I am in France, feel free to ask any question you want about my current life if you decide to write back - you really don't have to. It's okay. You're still perfect.

Just not my address. It's so selfish of me to hide away from you when you're the one who deserves closure, but I'm not ready to share that information. Again, I'm sorry, and I hope you understand.

Tu me manques. Tu me manques ma maman et mon père. Tu me manques au cœur.

All my love, Auriele x

~

Every day, his thoughts are plagued with ideas of how to write his next letter. Your previous few communications ran smoothly; you seem incredibly apologetic and, as much as he would've gladly ignored the past tense use of 'love' in your most recent letter, he can't help but realise the difference from your first each time he reads it.

He's not certain why his first letter practically poured from his pen and before he knew it, it was sealed, posted and received. This time, however, he can't even construct a way to greet you.

Has distance and time really weakened your connection that much? His favourite childhood Disney movies would be ashamed.

The heartache you've endured together is insufferable, the bitterness remaining fresh and the misery continuing to roll onwards with him, and yet, you're both still alive. Perhaps, he should be a little more thankful.

He's tested out various support groups over the past few months; they appear to help in the moment, but once he returns home to a completely empty house, - aside from Chi - he realises all of his progress to be entirely fake.

How can he realistically recover from his insurmountable loss in solitude?

An apartment which used to breathe vibrant life and excitement for the future, diminished to nothing but silence.

He might as well have lost his house, too. Every second he spends there, surrounded by reminders of his grief, is draining. Of course, if he were a millionaire, he would've discovered a lovely, one bed flat with wide, open floors and windows. If he were a millionaire, though, maybe none of this agony would've ever happened.

He could’ve fixed it.

Regardless, he didn't, and now he returns home every single day, monotonous and finding solace only in rereading your letters and running through his local park with Chi, no matter the weather.

Sometimes, he hears the faint echo of your melodious voice ringing in his ear; mon doux bébé. For a moment, he believes you may be talking to him, but with a resounding giggle of contentment, you never were.

Within a month, he lost both of his sweet baby girls, and the pain is simply too much to comprehend.

Elle, mon cœur,

Firstly, I apologize for my late reply. This letter was, for some reason, incredibly difficult to write.

You hurt me never. Life hurt me, and it hurt you, too, and I'm sorry it's so cruel.

Chi adored her ice cream - vanilla, your favourite - and said thanks! (complimentary picture attached, for you).

Sympathy and apologies aren't a cure. I've received enough of them to know. I hope you have, too. We might not accept it and it might not heal our pain, but it is nice to know you have people by your side.

Mon amour, I would/could never come close to hatred for you. You are my entire heart, and you own everything within it.

I hope, one day, I can forgive you. I hope you can forgive me. We both made mistakes. We're both accountable, and so is fate. Unfortunately, it wasn't on our side, and we have to welcome that.

Your face is certainly Top Five list of physical attributes, which goes as followed:

1. your lips. I know I complained about them being dry all the time, but I miss them, still.

2. your eyes. Somewhere between the ocean and a cottage filled with flowers, they were paradise.

3. your thighs. I am a man - a broken one, but a man nonetheless - and they are certainly the most family-friendly feature I could think of.

4. your smile. Even on my darkest days, your smile was heaven. I hope you're smiling right now. I wish I could see it.

5. your face? All of the above and everything else. Was that cheating?

I wish I could leave here. I wish I could find a small, tropic island where Chi and I can get tipsy on Virgin Mary's and surf all day, but I feel it wouldn't be fair for both of us to run.

Although, Chi would certainly have a great time in Thailand. She told me so.

Did I mention she misses you? We miss you.

I have more questions than you can imagine. This is only my second letter, however, so I suppose I'll stick to three for now, (sorry for all the lists!)

How are you? Mentally? Physically?

Have you made new friends whilst you've been out there?

Would you ever visit London again?

I miss you forever.

Ton bébé.

Harry x

~

Harry,

It's more tough to write my letters than you might assume. No need to apologise, I understand.

Life is shit. I thought I had accepted that. I never imagined how evil it could be.

Chi, my baby, looks so pretty. I love her haircut (number 8694743? out of infinite).

I have heard my fair share of sympathy. At first, I felt bitter. They didn't understand what I had suffered, they didn't understand the pain I felt. With time, I realised that, sometimes, sorry is all you need to hear to feel a little better. To feel like you're managing life, at least.

I wish I could believe I deserve it, but I truly don't.

My mistakes seem perpetual. I'm constantly remembering new ones. Things I could've noticed faster, signs that I should've recognised. Yours are nothing. You made no mistakes, mon amour, please believe that. As much as fate has been my least favourite higher power for the past year, I agree about welcoming our own.

I would make a list of my personal favourites of your appearance, but I'd be here all day, and I'm meeting with a friend in an hour (your second question - check).

It wasn't fair for either of us to run. I think it's turned out for the best, however.

I can imagine Chi passed out on the beach. You both deserve a holiday. Go to Scotland, or something, at least. Just away from London.

I miss you both. Much more than I can express.

I'm well. Mentally; it's a struggle, but that's just life, I suppose. Physically; my sickness stopped a while ago. I hope your headaches did, too, but I've been searching for cures for those for a long time.

Yes! I've made quite a few close friends. They all know and love you. I'll tell them you asked.

London holds far too many memories for me to bear. You're the only one I can stand. Maybe one day.

Tellement de câlins.

Auriele.

~

The second your letter arrives and is read fully three times over, Harry's scrambling to collect his fancy paper and ink pen, thousands of ideas about how to reply brimming in his head.

Pen to paper, however, his mind is entirely blank.

You're inching closer to addressing the subject of your pain, and so is he. So far, the only discussions you've had regarding that difficult topic have ended either in awful arguments or uncontrollable, endless crying and they all occurred before your disappearance.

Since then, you've had ten months and seventeen days shared to mature from and process the situation. Perhaps, if you were to have a conversation about it now, it would be beneficial.

Harry is aware of the solution to his strange writer's block and urges to attempt to fix your hurt, but he's not quite sure if he's ready. Physically forcing himself up from his cluttered desk, he tries not to think of the main event when changing his sloppy t-shirt and joggers to jeans and a jumper; it's February, so the wind is still well and alive but, luckily for Chi and the duration of her walks, the temperatures are beginning to rise.

His destination is barely a thirty minute leisurely stroll through the city away, and he feels shameful to admit that this is his first visit in ten and a half months. Several times, he's gathered his courage to stand on the pavement, surveying the vast area but never making it closer than the protective fences.

This time, though, he's determined to make it. And he will, with je t'aime's and sweet giggles bubbling in his ears.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

Auriele,

Life will continue to surprise us. It may be malicious, but it's also given me you, so I guess there are a few reasons to be grateful.

I think it's more like *8694744 out of infinite, and I'm sure she'll have many more unpleasant trips to the groomers in the future.

You are handling life impeccably, considering all. You deserve showers of recognition for just being here.

No one has ever been more deserving of my love, and no one ever will.

Please, don't blame yourself entirely. Yes, there were signs. Signs that we both should've seen earlier. We knew as much as everyone else. We can't know if things would be different if we'd noticed them, because they're not.

I'm glad you're enjoying life in France. Is it peaceful? Is it too far to ask if you're living with one of your new friends? What're their names, if you don't mind my asking?

If I were to go on holiday right now, Paris would be my first choice.

I'm glad you're feeling better, I hope you continue to improve mentally in the future. I wish you nothing but true happiness.

If you're ever here, I'd be honoured to see you again.

This might surprise you. Before I wrote this letter, I went to visit her.

I haven't since we were there together.

I talked to her for hours about my life and my pain and your letters and your pain and anything I'd love to say to you if I knew how. Meline always was the best listener, no offence to you. She just understands.

I miss her. I miss you. I miss my babies.

Please, send me a picture of you (always topping lists) in your next letter. I need to see you now. I bet you're glowing.

Toujours, Harry x

~

Harry, mon amour,

I feel as if I should address the end of your letter first, because I certainly wasn't expecting it. I cried a lot. I'm still crying as I write this.

It feels nice to feel.

I've been so numb to it all. I know I should sob every day, think of her every single second. I don't. That may make me an awful person, but I always preferred not to lie. Especially to you. I don't think the gravity has quite hit me yet.

Back to the normal, top to bottom of your letter.

My family is a gift. My parents, you and Meline, specifically. I've never admired anyone more.

I miss Chi. Especially today, for some reason. Send more pictures of her when you next write. (I enclosed an updated picture of me in town, if you hadn't noticed! It was taken last week.)

I had concerns. Concerns that I didn't follow up on. We knew something was wrong, but we did everything we could, right? We found help. We found medicine. Why didn't it work?

How fucking cruel can life possibly be?

It's much quieter than London. The air quality is visibly better. I am, actually. My closest friends are Leon and Aline. I'm living with them!

Paris is about as good a holiday as you can get. If I'm ever near you, whatever country it happens to be in, I'll be sure to see you.

The last part of your letter. I already touched upon it but not nearly enough.

I haven't said, heard or read her name in eleven months. I miss it. I miss your voice. And her laughs. She was so, so lively and enthusiastic for life.

It's so unfair that she didn't get the chance.

And I agree; she always was a fantastic listener. I told her about our issues more than I should've.

I wish I could hear her again. Her name wasn't Meline Risette Styles for nothing. Her laughs were so pretty. I could've listened on repeat.

I did. For a year.

I miss her.

I miss you. I miss your warmth. I miss your heart and your love and your smile and everything about you.

I miss normality.

When we thought things would be okay.

We were wrong, and hindsight, that's okay, too.

We will heal eventually, I trust that life can't take much more away from me.

Tout mon amour, Auriele x

~

Since that day, Harry's visited Meline every Sunday without fail - it's only been three weeks, but going in the first place was an unimaginable step.

He even combined Chi's walk with the most recent, and each time, entering, staying at and emerging from the cemetery becomes easier.

The first time, he paced through the gates several times before building the bravery to even step inside without running back. His flight or fight instinct had been touchy the whole time, bias towards flight the entire time.

He just wanted to be as far away from the source of his pain as possible.

At the same time, he just wanted his daughter back. Alive and healthy.

Once he'd settled, laid on the ground like a madman next to her grave, he never wanted to leave her again. He even brought her flowers and a little teddy bear from a shop he'd passed on his hurried journey there.

It was well and truly dark by the time he even considered returning home, because he'd rather be with his sweet baby than alone at home.

Now, Chi sniffs inquisitively around at the bundles of flowers placed on surrounding graves whilst Harry converses with his dead child's grave like she was as animated and eager as he remembered.

It's a little questionable for his sanity, but extremely helpful for his own mental health. And he's trying to fix them both.

He just wishes so much that he'd pushed for more tests in the hospital. If he could, he'd reject their diagnosis and prescription of heart medication and an inhaler for when her asthma flared up.

They claimed she had a weakened respiratory system and, subsequently, her heart didn't deal well under stress, mostly due to her premature birth.

They were correct.

However, they were entirely wrong when they sent you all home with a tub of medicine and advice to lower any potential stressors around her.

Harry remembers scoffing to himself; she was one, what could possibly be stressing her that much?

Apparently, a lot of things.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

There's truly nothing better.

Auriele,

I understand completely about any emotion feeling refreshing. For a while, I felt immune to it. I cried and I got angry, but nothing ever really set in.

I'm thankful that I can feel now and it doesn't destroy me.

You're not at all a bad person, or a bad parent. Often, I wish I could forget about her. And not just to remove the pain for a day or two. Also, I appreciate the honesty.

Important things must be talked about first. And while this paragraph isn't quite at the top of my letter, it certainly is my most admiritive.

You're so, so unbelievably beautiful. Even more so, now.

Your eyes are still paradise. That picture is stuck onto the cork board in the kitchen forever.

We did absolutely everything in our power to help our baby. As soon as we noticed an issue, we took her to the hospital. Maybe they accidentally underestimated her condition, maybe they just assumed it'd be treated with that medication.

Either way, we helped her as much as we could. And you were, are, and always will be the most incredible mother.

Meline was lucky, truly. She loved you so much.

As it turns out, life can be our greatest enemy. It's difficult to control and even harder to accept, but everything happens for a reason, I suppose.

Leon and Aline sound wonderful. I know it's not my place, but tell them I said thank you for being there for you? You don't have to.

I've never known someone deserve a full, healthy life more than our sweet girl, and it's an injustice to steal that opportunity from her at such a young age.

She would've been two next week. I'm sure you don't need reminding, but I'm still trying to handle my feelings about it. I already know her birthday is going to be the worst day since she died.

Meline Risette Styles deserves the world, as do you. Please don't be afraid to take it. You've earned it.

Her name still brings me so much joy; little honey, pleasant little laugh. It was such an apt description, in her short life.

Life can always take more, but it gives things that are so wonderful. Sois optimiste.

Tout mon amour et câlins, Harry x

wattpad:

[thegyudguy]

Destiny (No, Not About Love)

Wrote this years back.

I don’t believe in destiny. Not until I passed CPA Licensure Exam. It’s as if everything falls into their proper places that I don’t have a chance to hesitate, but to actually believe that His plans are greater than what I would have planned for myself. Yes, I now believe that destiny is what He plans for me.

Before all of these, my life was a smoke of a cigarette. I didn’t know where life would lead me to, or would I be blown away and be gone without knowing what I would become. Day in day out, everyday felt like M&Ms candy, once it’s consumed, it’s gone. I really did not have any plan for my life. But then one day, I just woke up with this thought in mind that it’s me who shall propel my life to where I want it to be. Admittedly, God was not part of it. At first, I did not seek His guidance because back then, I used to question His greatness. Oftentimes I’d ask Him why certain painful things happen in my life and in my family. I was drawn to believe that everything is just a part of a cycle, no miracles, no something special.

When I enrolled for the review classes, all I wanted is just to break the monotony of my life. House – Office – House used to be my routine. No past time, no hobby, occasional night-outs, no love life. I oftentimes joked that to have a love life is the main reason why I decided to enroll. But actually, I wanted to make use of that most precious commodity that I have into some meaningful activity. I wanted not to be a pedestrian anymore, someone who’s ordinary.

It was known to me that passing the CPA Licensure is not going to be easy. I told my mother that I was allotting my years up to the age of 30 (I was 26 then) just to get the license. This is because she would always insist me to get married. Because of the lengthy period, I would sometimes lax in doing myhomework. I would still render overtime up to nine in the evening sometimes. Come First Pre-Board, when the results were posted, I was a bit surprised that despite the limited effort I put into it, I still got some answers correctly. And then it hit me: I told myself that if I’m going to take that review seriously, I might have the chance to nail it.

So, I began to hurdle the long road towards my goal. I would answer handouts during lunch breaks, read theories before going to sleep, the usual study habit of a typical student. There were also times that I would listen to recordings of past discussions, of topics that were vague or lessons tackled during the earlier days of the review. When I was allowed to take a leave of absence for the whole month of September, I was confident that I can cope with the review. I even scheduled the days left until the final battle.

I underestimated the topics. I skidded out of the schedule. I missed the target. The booklets that I was supposed to have revisited and re-solved were only halfway done. Furthermore, it covers only one of the seven subjects that I should have finished solving/ reading. The thought of defeat has finally overcome my confidence. I needed a push, I needed some emotional back-up, and my family is the only inspiration for me to continue and make me believe that I can still do it.

I found myself at the doorstep of our home in the province. I badly needed my mother’s guidance. She told me to hold on to God’s mercy, to pray for his guidance. I am gradually gaining my faith in Him again. As the exams date draws closer and closer, so as my faith to Him. There were times that I will not only pray, but beg for Him to let me pass the board exams. I was also introduced to the miracles of St. Joseph of Cupertino that is only what I know shall be asked in the exams and St. Jude Thaddeus for hopeless cases. I firmly believe that they helped me convey my prayers to God. On examination days, I would only feel nervousness upon arrival of the test papers and nothing else. Before and after every exam I would pray that whatever is His plan for me shall be done. In those questions that I do not have enough knowledge, I would pray to God and through St. Joseph of Cupertino to help me remember the procedures on how those problems are to be solved. As the examination is coming to its end, my assessment was that I did not get the number of correct answers needed to pass it. I was not confident with my answers. I immediately phoned my mother to tell her not to expect anymore. I was just praying that if ever adjustments are to be made; they would be on the subjects that I am not certain about.

It had been four anxiety-filled days to wait for the results. It must have been a blessing in disguise that I needed to report immediately at work the day after the exams so that my attention will be temporarily drawn from it. All I could do was to pray and beg that He will endow to me that title, not for anything, but for my parent’s happiness.

Finally, on October 16, 2015 at three in the morning, a friend of mine sent a message telling me that I made it! I did not know how to respond immediately. My senses told me to check for any proof that I really made it. And then there was it. A screengrab of the list of passers containing my name was tagged to a facebook post, confirming that I did pass the exam. I was shocked initially and also gratified that I will not need to study again for the next six months to get equipped for the next exam. Every hardship has been paid off. It was on a wee hour of the morning but I did not hesitate calling my mother and father informing them of the good news and asked them to prepare their most formal clothes because they are going to attend to their son’s proud moment.

Once emotions have subsided, with the realization of what I have done to be worthy of this gift, it has dawned to me that maybe everything that happened in the past four months led me to this. First was, I received an extra money before the end of March, that I used as a down payment for the review. Second, Saturdays have been freed up from work, thanks to the management. Third, I attended a personality development seminar that shook the very core of me. Fourth, on the day that I was going to file for the Notice of Admission, rain was pouring so hard. I told God that if the rain won’t stop at eight in the morning, that will be His sign for me not to continue. But when I woke up, the sun’s up! Until now that part of my journey reminds me that God has His way of saying “Just go on, trust Me. You can do it”.

I will forever be grateful to the Lord. He has done more than I prayed for in spite of my lapses and shortcomings in the past. He still gave me the gift that not only made my parents happy and proud, but also will benefit the whole family in the long run. I am looking forward to the next gift that I shall start to pray for. LOVE LIFE!

[moonbythecabstan]

We're Up Against The Wall (Know I Like It Like That) - Part 1

Rated: M

Pairing: M/M

Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment

Relationship: The Miz/Dolph Ziggler

Summary: A surprise visit from Mike's good friend takes a surprising turn.

Mike flicked his thumb over the screen, skimming the posts scrolling past with vague interest. He wasn't one for mindless social media perusing, but waiting on his wife usually took quite a while. Especially when she had her girls with her. Their giggles heard every time he peeked into the room to check on how much longer he'd be waiting. Left with nothing else to do, he took to looking through Instagram. Tossing a double tap out here and there, smiling at the many pictures of his friends doing interesting things in their lives.

He glanced at the time at the top of the screen when his restlessness got the better of him, groaning when he found only three minutes passed by. How was it time moved so slow when you desperately wanted things to hurry up? Waiting on your wife and suffering through workouts being the times when you wanted the minutes to fly by. Yet they merely crawled. Dragged.

There was a knock at the door that startled him out of his silent griping. He furrowed his brows at the door like maybe he imagined the sound, but it came again. A rhythmic knocking he recognized with a grin. Pushing up off the couch to greet his friend as he pulled the door open wide.

"Hey, man! Didn't expect you to drop by today." Dolph Ziggler, in classic shades and red Motley Crue shirt (sleeves cut off because of course), nodded to him. Ponytail flicking jauntily back and forth as he shifted weight from the left to the right, a hint of teasing to the 'apologetic' smile he offered.

"Yeah, well. I was in town and... I mean, you know how it is. Better to drop in on a friend than go out to some expensive establishment in town." He paused, head tilted and lips pursed for a moment. "It's cool that I'm here, right?" He leaned over to one side and then the other, seemingly checking behind Mike. Probably wondering if they were going out or if his wife had something planned for them.

After all, Mike was dressed in a casual but still nice outfit. Jeans, blazer, clean white t-shirt. His nicest boots. He figured there was still about twenty minutes before he'd even be close to leaving the house anyway, so he nodded and invited Dolph inside. It was better than sitting bored in the living room, something playing on the television and staring at the wall while his thoughts ran away with him.

Not possible to be bored when Dolph was around. That anyone knew.

"So, judging by your nice clothes and pretty face I assume you're going out soon." Mike dropped back onto the couch, though Dolph remained standing. Glancing from where Mike sat to somewhere down the hall. With a hum, he got into a more comfortable position. Effectively rumpling his shirt and blazer, something he was surely going to be nagged about when it was time to go.

"Yeah we've got some business stuff to attend to. And then dinner at this new steakhouse. I'm just waiting on wifey to be done with her thing so we can go." He checked his watch, grimacing. "Should be in the next twenty minutes."

"Ah. Hence the letting me come in. Better than talking to the wall. Probably anyway." Mike snorted, nearly running a hand through his hair before remembering he'd styled it already. He dropped his hand listlessly into his lap, puffing air out of his mouth up at the ceiling.

"Trust me. It's a much better alternative. What are you doing in town anyway? I thought you'd be up in New York by now?" If he remembered correctly, Dolph had some... thing or other scheduled soon in New York. Of course, he could barely keep up with his schedule, never mind a friend's.

"I do, but that's not for a few days. Well, technically two, but I figured it would be fun to visit my brother for a bit. Except he's apparently busy. Then I thought, 'Hey, Mike probably wouldn't mind a buddy' and here I came." He certainly appreciated it. It had been a little while since they really got to hang out. Usually one of them was busy doing something else or they were hanging out with their group of friends at a party or some formal event.

It wasn't the same as just chilling out. Shooting the shit. Catching up.

"Glad you did. You don't know how long a minute can stretch until you're waiting for someone to get ready to go." Dolph laughed, sunglasses now hanging on his shirt collar and his smile reaching his eyes. Blue as the California sky outside his window.

"Brutal." Then he took a step back, glancing down the hall again and smiling in apology. "Mind if I use the bathroom real quick?"

"Sure. Go ahead. You know where everything is, right?" Dolph nodded, already heading out of the room. Something about him a bit more...highstrung than usual. Mike wasn't sure what it was about him, but he let the musing go in favor of heading for the kitchen. Seeking one of his healthy snacks since it would be a good while before he'd be eating anything.

Not even five minutes later, his phone buzzed on the counter. Curiosity piqued, he set aside the mustard bottle he'd been examining for an expiration date and plucked the device up. Brows furrowing when he found Dolph's message notification there. An amused thought crossed his mind of Dolph stuck in the bathroom without toilet paper or something, though that disintegrated quickly into curiosity when he unlocked his phone and read the actual text.

"Hey, you gotta come check this thing out in your guest room. What is he talking about- guest room?" He tried to think of what in the world Dolph could have found in the guest room, shuddering at the thought of a rat or something being in there. His phone buzzed again, a 'hurry up miz' making him roll his eyes as he pushed away from the counter and walked quickly to where Dolph was waiting for him.

"Alright, what is i- mmph?" The moment he was through the door, it shut quietly behind him. Dolph crowding him up against it. A dangerous and enticing gleam in his eyes. He nearly spoke again, his thoughts shooting off in a hundred directions as he scrambled to understand what was happening, what he'd walked into, but Dolph shushed him. Tilting his head once towards the adjacent wall.

And then he heard it. Talking. It was muffled through the wall, but he recognized the higher frequency of women chattering together. Giggling and speaking in shrill voices that carried into the next room. That being the one he was in currently, Dolph watching him carefully. Heat in his gaze that made Mike swallow. His throat suddenly very dry.

"I believe I remember you once mentioning something about how you've fantasized about this. About us going at it in the room next to the one she's in while getting ready." Oh God. He remembered that? Mike vaguely remembered one of the times they hooked up while out of town, he'd been completely blissed out and barely able to put coherent thoughts together. Rambling on about something while kissing along the throat that tasted of salt and smelled of thick musk. Dolph's fingers trailing along the skin of his back and chest, sending little shivers through his body.

Afterwards, when he had his bearings, he remembered saying something along the lines of what Dolph said to him just now. Cringing in embarrassment and praying Dolph either hadn't heard him or wasn't able to pay attention any better than Mike was. Not that it wasn't truem he was ashamed to say, but he preferred to keep such fantasies to himself. Not wanting anyone, not even Dolph, to know some of the things he really wouldn't mind doing.

Apparently he'd hoped in vain, because the man heard and remembered. Obvious in the smirk he wore as he looked him over.

"Um, I was kind of hoping maybe you didn't hear me when I said any of that." Curiosity sparked in darkened eyes, Dolph humming lightly as he considered him for a moment.

"Why? I mean, it's not the best idea you could have in terms of keeping people from finding out. But apparently that gets you hot, and who am I to deny someone something like that? I'm game if you are." It hit him rather suddenly what exactly Dolph was proposing. What was on the table here. He really wished it didn't have him flushing head to toe. Didn't have his heart hammering at the mere thought.

He wished he didn't want to do this. It was wrong on so many levels.

But damn it he did.

Still, he found himself hesitating. "I don't know..."

Dolph leaned in close, their bodies just nearly brushing, and lightly slid his nose against the underside of Mike's jaw. Pulling a sigh out of him and making his eyes flutter closed. It had also been a while since they got to be together like this, rarely ever alone or somewhere they could feasibly be alone.

He didn't like to admit it, but he missed this. There was something insanely addicting to it. The adrenaline coursing through his veins. The knowledge he was doing something he shouldn't. Their natural chemistry snapping and crackling between them when they touched. Kissed. Their passion burned so hot, so bright, and together it was absolutely blinding. Threatening to burn them to ashes.

Every time they got together left Mike wanting more. He couldn't, really shouldn't, but still he craved. Still found himself thinking about it. Once or twice even dreaming of it, an awkward situation he felt immense shame over while sitting on the closed toilet seat. Head in his hands. Drying sweat leaving his skin sticky. Grimy.

"It's up to you. Whatever you want." In his opinion, though Dolph was trying to make it like the final decision was Mike's to make (and, he supposed, in a way it was since he could technically walk away), Dolph also wasn't playing very fair. Ambushing him in the guest room. Leaning in close, keeping him trapped against the door with his body. Teasing him. Smelling as good as he did. Looking like he did.

Looking at him like that.

Really it wasn't fair at all. Because whether he wanted to or not (he totally did) they were definitely doing this. He had no possible way to fight Dolph, or ignore the hum of energy under his skin. And Dolph knew that. Knew just how to push Mike's buttons to get what he wanted. A reaction. A favor.

And behind closed doors, whatever he wanted in bed.

Not that Mike was, like, complaining. He loved making people happy. Would do anything to do so. What they wanted to do he would do delightedly. Diligently. That applied about ten-fold in the bedroom.

"You know I want." He spoke lowly and with slight irritation because they both knew Dolph knew this. Far too smug for his taste, knowing Mike would play right into his hand. Dolph, grinning, tugged him off the door. Letting out a quiet yelp when Mike suddenly charged him, taking the control right out of his stupidly smug hands. He licked heated kisses into Dolph's mouth while curling around him. Absorbing the pleased moan Dolph let out and kissing back harder. With earnest fervor.

Hands squeezed at his shoulders, fingers then trailing along the back of his neck. Bodies pressed firmly together. His ears picked up loud laughter from the next room and he broke the kiss with a gasp to trail lips along the stubbled jaw. Squeezing his fingers into Dolph's waist, a low sound next to his ear making his hair stand on end.

Muffled conversation continued from the other side of the wall his back thumped into, Dolph whispering against his throat. He grasped tightly to whatever parts of the man he could, taking a shape inhale when fingers picked at where his shirt was neatly tucked into his pants. A shiver running up his spine when quick tugs freed it, hand slipping underneath and nails biting into his sensitive skin.

He wasn't sure how much teasing he could really take like this, praying Dolph took mercy on him but knowing the chances were slim. It was rare they got this, even rarer in the situation they were in, and Dolph wasn't known to squander an opportunity laid so perfectly for him. Trust him on that one.

Fingers plucked at buttons, getting through three before Dolph invaded his space again. A heady scent bulldozing his senses and making him dizzy. Dolph always smelled good, but this was something else. He'd happily drown in whatever bottle this stuff came in, that's how good it was.

"Gonna have to be extra quiet, you know that? They could hear you." Another button undone, his shirt looser across his chest. Falling just a centimeter more open. He felt himself arching, trying to break free or maybe draw closer to the other man. To melt completely into him. "Can you actually do that? Can you keep quiet?"

He swallowed thickly.

"Yeah. Yeah I'll- I'll manage." Another button, Dolph leaning back and shooting him a twisted smile he felt deep in his gut. Leaving him to question just how well he'd be able to manage not alerting anyone in the next room what was transpiring.

"We'll see about that." And then, without warning, he dropped to his knees. Fingers making quick work of Mike's belt, the leather snapping as it was tugged from around his waist and tossed onto the (thankfully carpeted) floor. Dolph glancing back at it and making a face.

"Next time, we'll try the laundry room. I remember it has a hard floor." His response dried on his tongue as eager hands wasted little time with buttons and zips. Mike wheezing, clenching his jaw to keep from making any other sounds, when Dolph's left hand slid across his skin. Pressing firmly but gently into his stomach while eyes watched him with open curiosity.

"Hmmm. Usually can get at least a squeak out of you with that one. Going to have to work harder, aren't I?" Squeezing his eyes closed, he counted to five in his head and let out a steady breath. Trying to center himself and ignore the delicious tingling all over his body.

"You're trying to break me...on purpose?" Dolph hummed, smiling sweetly while tugging down snug dress slacks and briefs a few inches. Cool air skating across his skin and making bumps rise up his arms. A tremor in his thighs. Damn him.

"It makes this a little more interesting, don't you think? Just like that time you did something really similar when I was on that conference call with those really important people I told you about? Remember that?" He did, and that had been pretty entertaining. Dolph's strained voice and broken sentences delighting him to no end.

He was quickly coming to realize it was not nearly as fun on the opposite end. Especially when he liked being vocal. Noisy. Sharing his...appreciation.

"If we're caught-" A pointed look.

"Don't get us caught. Simple." If only it were. He had a feeling this was not going to be anything near easy or simple for him.

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 4

I went back and edited/rewrote the previous chapters. I also accidently posted this with an old chapters warning so sorry.

Warnings: N/A 

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5(will be added when done)

Attending a witch burning was not high on your bucket list of experiences to have before you die. You weren’t forced to attend, no one but the council was but you chose to be there if not for you than for Cordelia. She’d most likely be upset about crime happening under were watchful eye. The warlocks’ goings weren’t the highest priority for the supreme, they had the chancellor for that. How was she supposed to know that the man was corrupt enough to kill his own for a taste of power. You hadn’t spoken to Cordelia since last night, she had to stop your brother warlocks then in the morning (with Coco’s help) hunt down the woman who killed John.

 You would have thought she would have made some time to scold you for your selfish thinking, drinking late in the evening with classes the following day. She only had the initial complaint then left you to your own accord. It was different. You still needed time to think about how you felt.

 Cordelia’s whole ‘gang’ attended including Coco who had come from helping the witches and Mallory who you assumed was there because of Coco. The two had been pals from the moment Mallory was asked to show Coco around the school. You were surprised the two so quickly worked a spot onto the close friends list of the Supreme. A list you barely made the cut for nowadays. Not to say you did not get along with Delia, she was your girlfriend after all, if you weren’t getting along then something was going terribly wrong. Things hadn’t been the same as they were years ago, her job weighing down on her and tearing her away from you. You’ve never really been the initiator of affection which allowed the tear in your friendship. The two of you rarely having time alone since she’s been having to go away for council meetings. If Myrtle and Zoe weren’t going with her, you’d assume she was cheating.

 You still loved her, although it was different to the fantasy you’d dreamt up from years of anticipation. Maybe it was high expectations? Whatever it was if you didn’t work on it soon there might not be an ‘us’ but two single entities with tension among them.

 You stood on Cordelia’s left, diagonally behind her. Your parasol shielded you from the blazing sun. Your girlfriend spoke to the men, calling them out on their crimes for the attendees to ear. Her voice blurred together in your ears, instead checking out your girlfriend. When was the last time you touched her? Seen her body unclothed? Was she as needy as you or did her hand to a better job these days? You found Cordelia sexy in a sick sort of way as she spoke about the murder of your brother warlock.

 The woman, Miriam Mead, kept staring directly at you as your girlfriend explained how she didn’t plan on breaking with tradition. Subconsciously, you took a step forward, focusing all your power into figuring out why her gaze was fixated on you. She was dowsed in gasoline, she turned away at last giving you some relief. As the flames engulfed her, she indulged in it. Prayed for her God, praised him. Claimed that the work of her Lord work will proceed and that the witches were powerless to stop him.

 A vision of the horned beast you saw in your nightmarish dream flashed before your eyes blinding you temporarily. You lost your balance, stumbling backwards and dropping your parasol in the process. You rested your eyes, your body suspended thanks to the help of two women holding you upright. 

 “She hangs among the ones of light, tell her who you are, and the worlds fate will be sealed.” A male’s voice echoed in your mind.

 “Brother?” you uttered out.

 Why did that face show up now? You reached out, getting a better grip in order to stand up correctly. Your fingertips grazed over Zoe’s hands as you supported yourself upright. Your head pointed to the ground, your mind in a haze not aware of the people surrounding. The woman refused to let go until they got a response from you. You latched on to Zoe’s hands, a name popping into your mind. Who’s Michael Langdon?

 “Y/N?”

 The group was hiding something. Someone.

 “Y/N!”

 The flaming bodies burned on filling the air with the stench of cooked flesh. It didn’t smell as good as cooked bacon. A face blocked your view of the stakes, blonde locks attached to that head. More faces popped into view but the first being the most prominent. You removed yourself from the holds of Zoe and Coco. “Sorry, I lost my footing.” You avoided all their eye-contact. “I’m fine.” Cordelia looked at you still worried. “I’m fine,” you mouthed. You didn’t believe the words yourself. 

 “Are we ready to go, this place is really dampening my spirits?” Coco asked. 

 “I wouldn’t mind going,” you said rubbing your arm over the sleeves of your thick coat. This is why Cordelia didn't want you there, she didn’t want you to have to see all this. “Hey, Coco. Can I talk to you for a moment?” You caught up with Coco. “Did that woman creep you out?”

 “Totally.”

 “I felt like she kept staring at me,” you shivered. “I can officially say, I don’t like witch burnings.” Coco agreed with you on that one. 

 On the car ride back to the academy, John Henry Moore spoke about how he was going to have to track down his car, since the gas station had no idea were the car had been taken and no care dealership the vincity had gotten an ownerless car that night. It gave you an idea to cover your behind slightly. All you had to do was get an unsuspecting Coco to lend you a hand. You shuffled through the medicine cabinet looking for your medicine when you heard a student enter the room. You groaned, it had to be somewhere. Where did you put it? Those were meant to last a month and you lost it already. You hadn’t taken them in weeks, having your time slip away from you. Maybe you should have told Cordelia that you took them sooner, maybe she could help remind you. No- that’s silly, you could do it yourself. You were out of your old ones, so you couldn’t even take a lower dosage. You swore, slamming the cabinet door. You turned around and ran your fingers through your hair not wanting to know what will happen in you don’t take them.

 “Are you alright Y/N?” Coco asked.

 “Yeah, sorry about that. I can’t find my medication.”

 “Would you like some help?”

 “No, it’s fine,” you sighed. “Wait- you can find things. I was thinking about that incident with John. I heard he was found at the gas station; wouldn’t he have a car?” You leaned against the bench, near your student as she poured herself a glass of water. Your body was relaxed. You were on the prowl, you had a mission

  On the way back from the witch burning, Coco had been talking to Mallory when the man spoke to the others about his car. You were in the limo sat beside your girlfriend. Her hand on your thigh rubbing circles into your skin-tight jeans. She kept close since your incident at the witch-burning site. You were slouched, leaning into her body and resting your head onto her shoulder.

 “What did you do before you were a teacher?” the man asked. You didn’t realise it at first but he was speaking to you.

 “Uh~” Nothing, you didn’t do anything except lounge about in your apartment on the other side of the country- oh and there was that short time when you researched the wonderous magical world. “Nothing interesting, I did a pilgrimage of sorts. Why?”

 “You looked familiar. I thought I might have saw you somewhere.”

 “I guess I have one of those faces.”

 “Yeah, he would.” Coco snapped you out of your thoughts of earlier that day.

 “Do you think it would be nice if we found it for him? You know, for helping us out.” You said trying to persuade her to help you. You wanted to clear your conscience. “I’ll need your help finding it.”

 You knew exactly where the car was, that wasn’t your problem. You needed to be able to explain away why your DNA was in it. If Coco found it and you drove it back, the DNA on the car would make sense. All you had to do was hope the man didn’t have divination. 

 Once she helped you find the car, the two of you got it cleaned up for the man and ended up having a day trip to drop off the keys to the man who was now at the boys school. He thanked you both for the surprise. The both of you ended up having dinner at the school as a gift for your kind doings.

 “I’m surprise I didn’t get a call from Cordelia informing me you were coming.”

 “She must have been busy,” you lied, taking a sip of the wine you were having with your dinner. Apparently, Cordelia was trying to hunt the vehicle down for him as an apology for him getting in the crossfire of this whole ordeal, but you beat her to the chase. You made it out that she knew about your trip, even Coco thought she you told her.

 Was it wrong to use Coco’s power to cover your arse? Probably but if she didn’t know that she was helping you not get in trouble, was there any harm to it? The trip back was long. You called for a limo to drive you back home.

 “Did you think when you first joined, you’d be able to do this?” You asked Coco.

 “Honestly no.”

 “You’ve come so far. You should be proud of yourself. I sure am.”

 Meanwhile, Cordelia’s mind drifted back to the events of that day, thankful for Coco and Zoe’s quick reflexes. It was now nightfall, she found herself cocooned in one of your thick blankets. She had taken the day off work to focus on the pressing matter. Now complete she could dedicate her night to her love, that being said, you were nowhere to be found.

 You claimed you lost your footing but when in all the time she had known you had never stumbled in those ridiculous shoes you insisted on wearing. She used to tease you for the fact that you managed to have the landing abilities of a cat, always landing on your feet.

 The one word you muttered before they could gain your attention was ‘brother’, spoken as though you were questioning it. You’d never mentioned a brother unless you meant a brother warlock but still- the witches rarely used those terms- it made them seem like a religious order and it was already hard enough as it is to convey that you weren’t a cult. The words were more personal, she had experienced a similar state as you what you’d gone through when she had her visions, but you don’t get visions. At least you hadn’t before.

 You’ve spoke of your family few times, to the point she believed you had never had one. You mentioned on occasion your mother had sent you a letter detailing your family’s history and connection to this coven and the Salem witches. Besides that, you couldn’t even give out her name. No love or admiration towards your parent nor resentment, it was as if they never existed at all. But that idea would be preposterous, how could she not exist if you were here with them?

 So, who was your ‘brother’?

 Cordelia had gone back to the site after the burning as she knew the young warlock would discover what happened to his parental figure, Merriam Mead. “It’s over. We know who you are. Your allies are all dead. You’ve failed,” she said to the boy. He glared daggers at her. He stayed back, recovering from the vision of the Satanists death. He pointed out that he had already proven his strength of defying death to which the Supreme had already taken into consideration and countermeasure any attempts he could well in advance. “You can certainly go to hell, but you won’t find her there.” She casted a spell to act as a veil over who soul. He could go to hell, but no one would find it, not even his father. Only Cordelia could undo the spell and she had no intention of doing so. “You’ll never see her again.” Michael’s knees collapse in on themselves. The mand lands on his hands sobbing at the permanent loss of the woman who helped him. “Your alone.”

 “I’m never alone. I have my father.”

 “Where is he now? Why did he let this happen? You don’t have to follow his path your father laid out for you. You can write your destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you. I see it. If you come with me… maybe, we can find it.” Cordelia offered out her had to the son of Satan. “Together.” Michael takes her and allowing the blonde to help him up. Before he yanked her close and threatens her.

 “Somehow- someway, I am going to bring her back and then I am going to kill every last one of you.” Michael let the woman go and began to walk off. “And for one second don’t you dare think I’m alone. I’ve got family in all places.”

 “Ghosts aren’t going to help you-”

 “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

 Angel. An angel on earth. A fallen angel? Living among her coven. Oh god, what if they worked for Michael. There is no guarantee that they are working for him, but they couldn’t risk it. Any possibility of the girl siding with boy is too high. Who then? Anyone could be a possibility. Cordelia’s mind thought of everyone, pulling points for and against them. It was something she might have to bring to the others attention, they might have a better clue.

 Back to the burning, you had just lost your footing, that’s it, no need to over think it, Cordelia convinced herself. It doesn’t explain how you haven't aged a day since she’s known you, but she’d age several. At first, she didn't believe it was you, putting it down to being a sibling of yours or a close cousin, but your words were all too much like yours and your eyes- the unnatural eyes she grew to love bore back at her in the same way they did all those years ago. A touch of your skin and she could read you like a book, all the trauma you had been through, being hunted all these years only finding safety months before returning. You never mentioned it, acted like it never happened. It appeared that way a lot, the information she read off you seemed like a fantasy book instead of a biography from the nonfiction section of a library. She guessed that you didn’t wish to share those parts of your life with her, answering vaguely about how boring your life was until you came here, but from the little she saw, you lived the dream, the only thing you didn’t have was the girl.

 Cordelia found your frozen state disconcerting to say the least but didn’t wish to bring it up as it didn’t bother you. You, barely looking 18 while her, in a few years nearing her fifties. You were older than her, but no one believed that she doubted her friends, Zoe and the rest thought she was being truthful if it weren’t for yours and Myrtle’s conformation. 

 She invited you back into her life and the rest was history. 

 You brushed it off every time someone was shocked that you two went to school together. Some joked that you were a vampire, always being locked up in your room, staying up til the late hours and barely eating with the others. The students got used to it, but Cordelia didn't. It always stuck with her at the back of her head.

 The woman decided to go down to make a cup of tea, her walm of her bed not feeling the same as when you were there with her. She noticed the back door open. She headed to close it when she noticed you sitting outside.

 “Love?” You spun around at the sound of her voice. You smiled sweetly as you wrapped the black dressing gown you wore tighter around your frame. “What are you doing out here?”

 “Admiring the night sky,” you said, laying out your hand inviting her to join you. She took it, carefully allowing you to help her sit down. “I always loved a starry night.”

 “I recall.”

 “Once, I camped out just to see the northern lights and I’ve never missed a meteor shower.”

 “You’ve had an amazing life.”

 “Yeah~ Would have been better if you were there.”

 “We all make mistakes.”

 You laid down to get a better view of the sky, laying you head on your bent arm. She eased herself down, laying her head on your chest.

 Cordelia had been away from you for awhile now, you both noticed. You’d become more drawn into your studies to which Cordelia had no idea what you were investigating. She would stop you immediately if she found out. With each day you were growing more paranoid- just another reason you stayed alone. She hadn’t caught on to your smoking habits which had only increased since she took away the first box from you. You had a fresh packet hidden away, covered by the fabric of your stolen nightgown.

 Your body was tense under Cordelia. She kept silent hoping that you’d bring up your concerns without her having to dig them out. The blonde picked up the scent of smoke in the air, she assumed one of the girls came out to smoke before she joined you.

 She understood why you liked the nights sky, the stars twinkled so bright form the spot you both laid. The stars were long dead and yet they live on as their lights can be seen for millennia.

 "Delia?"

 "Hmm?"

 "Do you think I'm broken?"

 "What? Of course not honey." She sat up and turned around to face you. You didn’t bother to look her way. "Why would you ask that?"

 "Something's wrong with me.” You turned and buried yourself into her side not wanting her to see your face. “Why aren’t I normal?"

 "None of us are normal sweathear-"

 "I'm forty-five and I still get age checked every time I get a drink."

 "Honey-" She pulled you away from her. "Is this really bothering you?"

 "Obviously."

 "You've never shown concern before-"

 "People keep calling me a gold digger. Saying bad things about you and me-"

 "Who's saying that?"

 "A couple of the girls, the public-"

 "You don't have to deal with whatever anyone outside has to think, they don't know what we have, as for the girls I can deal with them."

 "For a second it almost sounded like I wasn't your senior but what they see." You sighed. "I'm stressing too much."

 “Is that all you're concerned about?”

 “Hmm?”

 “You’ve never brought it up before,” Cordelia said. “You’re not deflecting your feelings, are you?”

 “Of course not.” Of course, you were. If you worry about yourself, she won’t pick up your worried about her.

 You convinced the doctor to schedule you a bunch of tests at the local hospital.  You came in with the opposite problems most women your age did. Most people would love to be in the same situation as you. “I don't want to look young while my girlfriend grows old. Please, help a sister out.” She didn't know what answer you hoped to find but she wished you did. She knew you weren’t lying, she had been your doctor for years since you had been at the academy. 

 You didn’t tell Cordelia until she caught you packing to leave.

 “You're doing what?”

 You didn’t respond, too busy backing your belongings for the overnight stay. When she didn’t gain your attention, she used her magic to flick your duffle bag across the room. You growled in, clenching your fists to stop you from snapping at the supreme. You had no chance; she was the most powerful witch in the coven. 

 “I need to find out what's wrong with me.”

 You turned to go and pick up your bag when you can’t move anymore. CORDELIA! Hands meet your upper arms and your frozen limbs thawed out as she eases you against a wall, to contain you. 

 “Honey, you’re fine. Nothing's wrong.” 

 “Everything is wrong Cordelia. I shouldn't be like this.”

 “It’s not the best time to do this baby-”

 “If not now Delia, when?”

 “The school isn’t safe at the moment, if you leave the grounds, I can’t protect you.”

 “The threat is gone; you stopped the warlocks-”

 “It’s not the warlocks I’m worried about,” You waited for her to clarify. “It’s one.”

 “Is that why you went to that school in the first place?” You asked. “Why didn’t you tell me if there was a threat? I could have done something-”

 “And put yourself in danger? I couldn’t have that.” What could you have done? You weren’t like the rest of the staff; the craft wasn’t your strong suit. Cordelia was doing what she thought was best for you.

 “Did you mention me at school?”

 “No.”

 “Then this Michael Langdon won’t know of me.”

 “I never mentioned his name. How did you know that?”

 “I-I’m more perceptive than you think,” You stuttered. “I figured it out through Divination or some crap like that. It’s beside the point. I’m still going, and you aren’t going to stop me.” You grabbed your bag and headed out of your shared bedroom.

 “I’m going with you,” she said. “I’ll get the others to keep an eye on the girls.”

 “You don’t have to-”

 “I haven’t spent enough time with you as of late. It’s blatantly clear now, I didn’t even know you could- I want to make it up to you. I want to be there for you.”

 Laying in hospital bed after some of your tests, you heard the hospital door’s room open. Cordelia only exited the room, so you thought it was one of the nurses. You were shocked to see a young man dressed in black. You sensed the power radiating off him, you had a feeling who this man was.

 “Who are you?”

 “Michael Langdon.” That was the name of the kid that was giving Cordelia trouble. “You have no need to fear me Y/N, I come here as a friend.”

 “I am no friend of yours.” You sat yourself up in your hospital bed.

 “Well, not of mine but my fathers.”

 “I don’t understand.” His father, who was his father? You weren’t friends with many men or anyone for that matter outsides of the academy. “Your father?” He walked over and took residence in the spot that Cordelia was in moments prior. Speaking of which, she should be back soon. 

 “My father led me to you, indirectly of course but you would know that being acquaintances with him. Smart move tricking the witch into falling for you, with her wrapped around your finger you will make this whole thing easier.”

 “I’m sorry Michael but I don’t know what your own about. Your father? Me being acquaintances with him. I think you got the wrong gal.”

 “But you’re Y/N M/N L/N or at least that’s the name you go by on Earth.”

 “That’s my name, but there’s nothing more to me.”

 “Tell me what you know about yourself.”

 “I don’t think that’s wise-”

 “Where were you born?” Uh~ You didn’t know. “Who are your parents?”

 “How am I meant to know? I’m an orphan.” But you had a letter from your mother sending you to the school, so how can you be an orphan?

 “You never wondered who are? It could explain your mysterious age-defying.”

 “How do you know about that?”

 “I heard the doctor’s talking.”

 “They think I’m looney, don’t they?”

 “Incredibly.” You laughed. “But I don’t.”

 “You need to go, my girlfriend will be back soon.”

 “Protecting me, are you?”

 “I’m saving myself the trouble of explaining why you’re here.”

 “I’ll see you seen Y/N.”

 “Yeah, yeah.” He said. “I’ll see you soon. Maybe you’ll have some more sense knocked into you.” The man walked out of the room. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

 It wasn’t long before Cordelia came back into the room placing down some snacks she snuck in for you. You thanked her, taking the fruit juice and taking a long sip. You looked over to her, when she noticed she gave you a quick smile before taking her seat.

 “Are you going to fill me in on what’s been happening?” Cordelia went to brush it off, say nothing’s happened when you interjected, “You're telling me all of a sudden the warlocks decided to conspire against their own? That there wasn’t a threat to our students until this morning? At least explain to me the marking, how? Who gave you that? Was it Michael?”

 “Wow~ calm down Y/N.”

 “Well?”

 “I was aware about the warlocks but not that they were against us, until Bubbles and Myrtle went to find out. That was long after John died. It wasn’t a threat to the girls, so we took care of it.”

 That explained why Myrtle’s friend had been hanging around the school. She was a nice woman but you never understood her presence on school grounds.

 “We? Who else knew?”

 “Our main circle-”

 “Your main circle,” you corrected. 

 You talked to them as much as you talked to most of the girls. You got along with them, but you wouldn’t classify them as your close circle, they tended to leave you out as of late due to you not knowing all this. You spoke to the teachers in the morning before classes and to make sure you aren’t reteaching the girls spells. The others were more random when you interacted with them, not having much free time due to the increased amount of work from the other staff going on council meetings. You spoke to Coco the most as she was a student in your classes. You spent any free time you had sitting outside and smoking, a habit that Cordelia being to busy to release you did. You learned how to not reek of smoke, managing to control the air around you so the students don’t have to breath it in. Mints and brushing your teeth covered the smell on your breath for the most part.

 Cordelia never thought that you might have been pushing you away when she hadn’t told you what’s been happening. You tended to be too busy with work whenever they had any sort of meeting about these that you had been invited to, such as the dinner to celebrate Mallory being the next supreme. So busy that she didn’t even offer it- or tell you.

 “Good to see I’m not a part of that-”

 “No. Of course you are sweetheart, I- I was-” Too scared.

 “What about that Michael Langdon? What’s his deal?”

 “The warlocks thought him to be the next supreme.”

 “The alpha. But you don’t believe that right, you’d have to be fading if that were the case.”

 “I think it’s Mallory.”

 “Wait? You think? Mallory? You're not saying-”

 “I’m fading Y/N/N.” You shook your head, denying the information. You muttered out no, repeating it, praying that it would someone reverse what she said. She’s joking, she had to be. “I’m weak. I can feel my power slipping away. That’s why I have the markings-”

 “Those aren’t from you fading Delia. There from prolonged exposure to a heavenly creature. I found it in one of my books while you were out. It might be from Michael, right?”

 “Wouldn’t all the warlocks have it as well? Or Zoe and Myrtle? They’ve been around the boy as much as I have. I’m not cancelling it out Y/N, but it’s not likely, unless it’s affecting me quicker because I am weaker-”

 “Stop saying that.”

 “It’s true. You wanted to know what was going on behind the scenes, you should have known it wasn’t going to be pretty.”

 “No! You can’t die! I need you!”

 “Y/N” She warned.

 “NO!” The light fixtures exploded, all the machines you were attached to along with anything in your vicinity.  Sparks of electricity shot out in all directions. “You will not leave me!” you cried. The hospital staff rushed around, yelling at each other about a power outage in the hospital. “I’ll figure something out. I don’t want to be alone again.”

 “You’ll have the girls, the school-”

 “But they're not you.”

 “Y/N, calm down.”

 “Calm down? You got to be fucking kidding me, right?”

 “We’re not going to do this now.”

 “Just go, the school needs you more than I do right now.”

 “Y/N-” Cordelia was cut off by her phone ringing. It was Zoe. She quickly answered it, “Zoe this is not a good time.” Cordelia listened to her friend explain why she called. “The power’s out?” Cordelia looked over to you, you paid her no mind. “Did you try the power box…The neighbours powers out too?... Okay hand some candles out to the girls and I’ll find out what’s going on… Yes we have candles other than the ritual ones, there in the garage- I’ll get back as fast as I can. Make sure the younger girls are calm. Bye.” She hung up the phone. How did you know that they would need her? You managed to not only knock out the hospital's power but the whole neighbourhood. 

 Back at school, you were known for being a book nerd. Having only mastered telekinesis and had been rumoured to have done Descensum (which you’d neither confirmed nor denied), you’d made up for it in your vast knowledge of the magical world. Your inability to perform most magic was what drew Cordelia to you originally. You were the outcasts, but you found a home there. In the beginning of your friendship you were made fun of by your peers, but you managed to befriend them by teaching them how to improve. Your magic had developed since you left but this was the next level for you. It scared her.

 “How did you know-”

 “The traffic lights are probably out, so drive safely -or better walk.”

 You wouldn’t talk any more to her after the last comment.

 When back at the school, Cordelia pulled out the candles from their hideaway in the garage. She gathered a group of girls to hand them out or place them in highly populated rooms. Zoe told her that she didn’t need to head back, that being there for you was more important than a power outage at the school. 

 “The school is more at risk with the power outage.” Cordelia handed Zoe a couple candles. “We had a fight.”

 “Oh~ Did you tell her-”

 “Everything.”

 “How did she- well she didn’t take it well that was a stupid question.”

 “She was fine until I brought up Mallory being-” she was wary of saying it aloud with the other students about. Zoe knew what she meant. “I knew she wasn’t going to take it well. I underestimated her power.”

 “Her power?”

 “The outage. It happened at the same.”

 “It could be a coincidence.”

 “The light in the room exploded.” 

 “And she couldn’t do that before?”

 “I didn’t think so. I’ve only seen her use telekinesis and she mentioned transmutation,” Cordelia said.  “I haven’t been paying her as much mind as I should be. I’ve been so caught up with the while Michael thing.”

 “All I can say is ask around to see what people have seen her do to get a rough idea of what she’s capable of if it concerns you.”

 “It’s not the power that concerns me-”

 “I didn’t think it was.”

 “It’s the sudden development of it…” Cordelia continued to tell her about the possibility of there being more than one powerful witch in the school that wasn’t Cordelia. That she had spoken to a powerful spirit (she left the rest of the details out of the story) and they mentioned that there could be a spiritual being among them. “If there is one, I don’t know what to do?” Peoples recebt comments have been making her believe the idea more every day.

 “You think it is Y/N?”

Your comment today about her markings confirmed it in her head. All the placement of markings were only places you have come into close contact with. The only thing she couldn’t explain away was how it started before you showed up. Was it a long process or was it someone else and she’s using your strange genetics as an excuse?

 “I only have two ideas and we still need a supreme.” Her other idea was Mallory but the supreme had to be younger than her. For all she knew, there could have been a third person. “You can’t tell either of them.”

 “I wouldn’t dare.”

 Cordelia heeded Zoe’s advice and asked about to see what people had seen you done to get a grasp on your magic level.

 “I was going to ask her for help with a spell when I saw her reach into a mirror and pull out something. I didn’t know that was possible. Don’t tell her, she didn’t see that I saw.” One of your students told the blonde. Scrying and Conjuration. The abilities to see things such as messages, visions, and prophecies on a reflective surface and conjure objects and beings from nothing or another location.

 “I don’t know, telekinesis,” a student unenthused by Cordelia's question droned on, “She always knows the right page in a book. That’s gotta involve Divination or some shit.”

 “She smokes a lot and I’ve never seen her with a lighter,” a younger student said. 

 A lot has happened since she had been gone. 

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

TW: passively suicidal, faith doubt, derealization. I was having a depressive episode full of intrusive thoughts Sunday morning, but I had to come downstairs and watch the chrch livestream. I don't rmember much of it bc I was crying but there was a song about the 10 commandments with the line "you'll be so happy if you live this way" and the pastor said at some point that believing God exists is a sign the Holy Spirit is with you already. My brain concluded that I'm not sposed to exist and (1/2)

(2/2) and my intrusive thoughts are my self destruct switch not working correctly, because if God is good and I believe He exists and I try to live by the 10, and my pastor says that those are signs, then why do I still feel this way? Why do my prayers not seem to calm the thoughts or keep them at bay? I feel betrayed and it's the first thing that's managed to shake my faith. My therapist isn’t Christian so she wouldn't understand. Idk what to do

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Hey there, sorry for the delay in responding. My heart really aches for you. I’m so sorry you have to deal with intrusive thoughts, that you’re experiencing a feeling of betrayal, that your faith feels shaken up right now. 

I don’t have any easy fixes for you, but I’m here for you. I also experience some intrusive thoughts and derealization (though not as much as I used to these days), and it really sucks and is scary and I wish no one had to go through such things.

You are supposed to exist. Your intrusive thoughts have no secret meaning about who you are as a person or what you’re supposed to do; they’re not a self destruct switch or something you’re “supposed” to act on; they’re just a sucky symptom of mental illness. 

_________

So, if I’m understanding you right, your brain concluded you shouldn’t exist because:

 the pastor says that if 1) you follow the 10 Commandments + 2) you believe in God, then = the Spirit being with you already....

and does the Spirit being with you = all your problems going away / your mental illness being cured? 

And so your brain reasoned that:

if the obedience + belief = Spirit = perfect life formula isn’t what you’re experiencing in your life, then you’re the flaw in the system? and therefore you should’t exist?

...So the rest of my answer is based on that being what you are saying -- if I totally misread you, feel free to correct me. 

My dear friend, you are 1000% not the flaw in the system. You are loved deeply by God. God created you on purpose, and with purpose -- you are supposed to exist. 

It’s okay that you struggle with derealization that tells you otherwise -- that’s not your fault. But if you are able to, when your brain tells you you’re not supposed to exist, talk back to it with “No. I know you are saying that because intrusive thoughts tell me the opposite of what I really want. But I am supposed to exist. I am not the bug in the system.”

I do believe that God’s Spirit is with you -- but not because you’re following that obedience + belief formula. God’s love and presence are gifts given freely to us. They aren’t earned. They just are. 

But the other thing is that the Holy Spirit’s presence does not bring about a perfect life here on earth. It doesn’t necessarily fix everything, or “cure” you. Jesus himself, the Son of God, the Person of God incarnate, suffered -- from things like hunger and physical pain, and also from things like loneliness, fear, grief. (I actually just listed out a bunch of place in the Gospels where Jesus experiences different emotions here.) 

I don’t know why God’s presence isn’t a magic cure-all -- why God doesn’t sweep in and fix everything, and make our suffering go away! I actually just posted a poem I wrote about how the first thing I’m going to ask God is why the heck Xe permits suffering. But I do know that even though God doesn’t fix all pain, for now....God does stick with us through it all. God doesn’t abandon us to suffer alone -- She is present with us in the midst of it, and weeps when we weep.

It sounds like that pastor you were watching ascribes to something Barbara Brown Taylor calls a “full solar spirituality” -- where if you just believe hard enough, or do the right things, or give the church money, or pray hard enough, God will make all your problems go away! You’ll be happy all the time and never ever feel pain or absence. 

While that kind of spirituality is fine and dandy when a person is experiencing good times, it has very little help for us in bad times. For those times, Taylor says, we need to learn how to walk in the dark -- to bring all our emotions, the good bad and ugly, to God; to wrestle with God and not be afraid to let others see our weakness and accept that God’s not a wishing well that grants wishes if we throw in enough coins, but is rather a Companion, compassionate and protective and steadfast in the face of all our flaws and fears.

The book Taylor talks about all this stuff in is called Learning to Walk in the Dark, and you might find it helpful if you like to read! I’ve got a few passages here in this tag if you wanna check them out. 

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Again, let me know if I misread your message and didn’t answer what you wanted me to answer. You might also find some encouragement in my #intrusive thoughts tag -- but please be aware of the content warnings on those posts and keep yourself safe! If hearing about others’ troubles hurts you more than it helps, don’t go through that tag after all. 

I’ve also got a post about prayer, and how for whatever reason, God doesn’t always “answer” them the way we’d want -- which really, really sucks when what your asking God for is some calm in the midst of intrusive thoughts! Believe me, I’ve been there. And I gotta admit, I’ve sorta let God have it in the past, yelling and screaming and demanding answers and assistance! 

God is there with you, feeling your pain with you, holding you close, even when you don’t feel Them there. And They welcome your questions, your doubt, your pain -- it’s okay to bring all of who you are to God. 

You are supposed to exist. You do exist, and the world around you exists, even when your brain is telling you otherwise.