#I cannot believe that I used to tote that thing everywhere with me.

[thegoddesswater]

8- If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go? 13- What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy? 22- How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Thanks Lano! Finally working through my ask backlog here. :D

8 - Tough choice! I'd be way more likely to try to write something without dialogue than without action (though, in the past I have written things so dialogue-heavy that they might as well be action-less). No dialogue seems like one of those things that I would challenge myself to do for a short while. So, it would probably be short and I think it would likely veer pretty quickly into some kind of uncanny territory, or it would be something with an isolating vibe to it.

13 - I'm trying to think of something that is difficult for me to write about and I'm having a hard time coming up with it. Which probably means that whatever falls into this category is something I ignore so hard, I can't even think of it. I used to be able to write gratuitous violence with the odd gleeful abandon that I think only teenage girls are capable of - and I can't do that anymore. But I also don't think I quite want to. Some of the stuff little me wrote back then makes me feel queasy.

Grief and death feel like they come disturbingly naturally to me though. Which doesn't mean that I'm just killing characters off left, right, centre, but I feel like I do it well when it happens?

22 - Me? Organized?? Oh mercy. I have probably about two dozen sticky notes spread throughout my house with different snippets of different stories jotted on them. Then I have the journal in my nightstand and the loose-leaf paper thrown into my agenda and crumpled at the bottom of my work backpack.

Dabble is my software of choice for writing and it's mostly where I put everything. Though I also have a bajillion google docs and ancient MS word files. And my Dabble files are an absolutely shameful mess. This is what it looks like when I open it:

And you may be wondering what's so bad about it - it just looks like I have lots of projects, right? Alas, three of those visible files are multi-project dumping grounds and my chaotic squirrel brain often prefers to work in those than in the properly labelled files. So content for Heart of a Warrior, for example, is in the appropriately labelled file, with additional content scattered in various sections of "Chaos of 23" and "Unfinished Business." And it's not as though I couldn't have just created multiple files within the proper project files to try keeping things together. I just apparently prefer to "organize" my projects with all the same care that a tornado would use when dismantling a house of cards. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[damselofblueroses]

The Name of the Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Second chapter, the Hunter and the Goddess is out :)

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter 1: The Hunter and the Gazelle

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.

You were excited.

No, it was not the correct word to be used. You were hyperactive, more than your usual self, and God knows that everyone could testify on how hectic your personality was. According to your family and very close friends, you were a walking catastrophe, funny but a fucking tease and potentially dangerous for environment.

And now, as you had been waiting for your flight, you could not manage to even stay still. Your hands were everywhere, you proved yourself again by dismantling your tote bag as poor thing was on your lap and you were playing with it unconsciously.

“Enough.” you heard your companion’s baritone voice tone. “If you will continue like this, you have to buy your belongings again in Japan. Do you have that much money?”

He reached to you and took the bag from your lap. For a second, his fingers brushed your thighs, and you lost your concentration during that fucking second.

Focus! you told yourself.

“I can always lend some money from you.” you cocked one of your eyebrows. “What? Will you bare me from some bucks?”

“Yes.” he was always plain and simple. On the contrary of you. “Unless if it is not a necessary. I am not a guy of sharing.”

What type of guy you are, can you give me a demonstration?

Your trip to Japan made you very excited, but you had to confess at least to yourself in the depts of your mind. What made you frenzied was the presence of your companion.

Doh Kyungsoo.

Your long-term study-buddy. Actually, he was more than a study-buddy, he was a kind of your comfort zone, even though you never express your opinions about him. You have known each other for almost 7 years since the last year of bachelor. Both of you continued your ways in academic world and you were currently being Ph.D. candidates.

To be honest, he never lose his impacts on you. You had a sweet spot for him since almost the beginning of your friendship which made him more than a study-buddy. It did not mean that you were restraining yourself from having dates time to time, but all of them were ended up with the same result.

They were clever and handsome guys, but they were not Doh Kyungsoo.

Sometimes you could not help but wonder, how it would be if you did not meet him as a friend? Could you two manage having a relationship as your best friend, Baekhyun, supported like a bloody zealot? Or one of you would give up as your brother, Jongdae, always believed?

“Hey!” you heard Kyungsoo’s voice and jumped off from the bench. “Come back to your senses or we are going to miss the plane.”

“And you are going to take its money from me.” your murmured inside of your mouth but obliged to what he said by starting to walk. He was generally quiet during flights, but you knew his mouth will not be shut when you will visit the restaurants he wanted to try.

He does not come for Tokyo, he comes for fucking eels, octopuses, or crabs. Kyungsoo and his appetite.

“Naturally.” he approved your words on money, but there was a ghost of smile on his lips. “Since you are the one who became a sleeping beauty.”

Do you think I am beautiful?

This was another problem you had. With Kyungsoo, you were so relaxed, and you felt extremely safe, so you did not need to control yourself as you generally did. Of course, it was a good omen for your friendship, as much as you were sure Kyungsoo never lied to you, it was also a disadvantage on your part, because sometimes you wanted to ask some questions that should be remained in silence.

“If we would be fairy tales,” you smirked. “I would be Belle while you are the Beast.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged his shoulder. “He is a very good guy. I am happy for Belle; she understands the assignment. You would not most probably.”

“Sweetheart, you are slow to catch the signs.” you playfully smacked his shoulder when you reached to the control point. You thought he would be annoyed, but he stopped and seriously gazed at you. You shivered and wondered why he was looking at you like he wanted to say something.

“What?” you inhaled.

“Since when I am slow to catch the signs?” he pressed on every word of his sentence, and to your dismay he used that voice tone, almost a whisper but goddamn strong. “Give me an example.”

You shuttered down, and this was the last problem you had with Kyungsoo, he was the only one who could make your brain stop working especially in times when the occasion calls for full-speed devilish progress. You just stared at him and shrugged your shoulder.

“Eh Soo,” you murmured. “You missed a lot of beautiful girls, right?”

Your response was so weak even to your ears. If Chanyeol, number two best friend of you, could hear your words, he would burst into laughs by hitting everyone beside him. You could imagine Junmyeon’s disgusted face as a plus.

“I did not miss anyone, my dear.” he chuckled. “Let me rephrase, anyone I want just one exception, but exceptions do not ruin the calculation in your famous mindset.”

When he chuckles, you can feel your blood tension rocks your body. His heart shaped lips does something to you, and you do not want to name it.

“Exceptions run the world, Doh.” you tried to push him to elaborate his words a little bit more. “Who is that lucky girl who run away from you?”

“That’s my secret.” he smirked and put his hand onto your waist in order to led you the controller lady. “Show your passport, I do not want to wait here forever.”

Who was the girl he mentioned? You could not help but started to feel anxious, how much you tried to press your instincts and feelings, whenever he mentioned a girl, there would be a dire need of crying in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breathe and followed his instruction. While you were walking into the inside of plane, you struggled with the sudden sadness. You wanted to tear that off yourself, so you reminded yourself the splendid trip ahead you. You found your place and processed to sit down.

“May I help?” Kyungsoo asked you but he already fetched your belongings and placed them correctly. You smiled to him and sat down.

How could you meet someone like him? He was a little bit grumpy sometimes, a person who could give unexpected reactions, but he was reliable, kind, lovely and always thoughtful of his environment. You did not want to lose him. You never want to lose him, on the contrary, you want to keep him in your life until the very end. You could not think a life without Kyungsoo, you always desire him to stay your side.

You were pretty sad, you had to admit, and there was regret. You were regretful on your decision to not go further with him, you wished you could be braver and tell him about your feelings for him. How much you were confused because of him, how many days and nights you spent sleepless because of him. To make the things more complicated, you had zero idea about how he would be responded your confession if you pull yourself together and manage to do. For once, you heard his cousin Minseok talked about you by saying you were very important for Kyungsoo, however you did not know in which extent you were important for him.

You two were always closed to each other, you spent almost 3 or 4 days together, you were living in the same campus, your departments were close to each other. He was a huge part of your life, that’s one of the reasons why you were hopelessly trying to conceal your inappropriate feelings for Kyungsoo. The idea of losing his extremely valuable presence was the only scenario could make you sob.

“Am I the only one who is very uncomfortable?” he whispered to your ear and made your stomach twisted. You could kill him for this, but he was not aware of how he affected you. “You are deadly silent.”

“No, I am just thinking.” you run away from him like an Olympic athlete. “About the trip. I am very excited.”

“If you are,” he flinched your forehead. “You have to talk non-stop. You are silent when something bothers you, what are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, Soo.” you found a smile from somewhere and presented to him. “You know I never find the chance of visiting Japan; I am really overwhelmed.”

“So, speak to me.” he grunted. “Do not act like I am not here.”

“Okey, okey.” you raised your hands to air. “Sorry for that.”

“I start to feel like I am disturbing you.” he turned his head to the Name of the Rosethat he was reading. Umberto Eco, he had a taste for everything of course. “I asked you twice if you are okey with going to Japan with me.”

You could laugh if you were not so tense since he mentioned girls.

“And I told you this is okey, Soo.” you pinched his upper arm. “You are a good companion for trips.”

“Only for trips?” he asked. What the fuck was wrong with Kyungsoo today? He was behaving weird, and his questions made you more baffled. “I thought I am good companion for everything.”

You bit your lips in order to send back the sudden answer you wanted to give. Instead of declaring your ignorance about his performance on everything, you refined your words.

“You are a good friend, Soo and sorry for making you feel unwanted. I am happy you are coming with me.”

“Hm.” he hummed but he did not look like he was satisfied with your answer. You decided to not think about what the heck he wanted to hear, you also turned to your book that you were supposed to read since the departure. At least Pavese helped you to collect your mind till the plane landed in Narita Airport. He helped you while you two took a cab for the way, he was acting like his usual self, so you accused yourself because of searching hidden messages in his questions. You were such an idiot.

“I will be seeing you at dinner.” he waved his hand when you finished the registration process of the hotel you would be staying for the week. You were in front of the elevator. Both of you already decided to take a nap before dinner when you were planning the trip, so you approved his words and took your keys.

“See you.” you smiled and walked to your room. When you opened the door, your smile widened, the room is so light and minimalistic as you really liked. There was no crowded furniture, crazy designs, or unnecessary modifications. The walls were light blue, the furniture was white, and all looked very harmonious. There were plants and flowers, you immediately run to the flowers as you loved them more than anything else. The hotel staff managed to place even Sakura blossoms into the room that made your heart flattered and smoothed your nerves.

And there was only one blue rose, which was your favourite flower in the world. Just one, between a bouquet of daisies and it looked magnificent. You leaned to smell it while smiling as a little freak. You did not have to see your face; you knew how you looked like. Chanyeol always said that when you see a blue rose, you lost your shit. Another creature made you drunk in happiness was white butterflies. You had a sweet spot for blue roses and white butterflies.

And for Kyungsoo.

You grunted to yourself in your mind, and you headed to the bathroom by tapping your feet to the ground harshly. You were done with your obsession with Kyungsoo, it became something out of control, and you were tired of yourself at this point.

You had to live your goddamn life, you had to stop fucking fantasizing about your study-buddy.

You stripped out from your clothes and jumped into the shower. Cold water helped you to take the control of yourself, both as physical and emotional. You were okey, you were in bloody Japan as you always wanted, and you were going to fucking enjoy it. After shower, you threw yourself into the bed, tucked yourself inside the blanket and set the alarm for one hour later.

After one hour, you were swearing at yourself with your very glorious vocabulary because the only thing you did was fantasizing about Doh Kyungsoo.

“Did you rest?” he asked to you while you were leaving the hotel. You held your growl inside. “Did you take a nap?”

“I did not sleep but I leaned down for a while, so it was good. You?”

“I slept like a baby. It was very interesting when you think I am more like an insomniac.”

“I guess, your insomnia is rubbing on me.” you grumbled. “Where are we going now?”

“Eh, at least something about me can rub on you.” he rolled his eyes, your chin was dropped due to his response. “There is a tiny noodle restaurant in Ebisu, but they are very famous. We are going to there.”

“Okey.” you nod and walked beside of him.

“You look very pretty.” he turned to you. “That dress looked very good on you.”

You instantly took a look on your navy, long dress. It was very comfortable, but also elegant and your fashion freak cousin persuaded you the colour and style gave you a

“Thank you.” you replied. “Sehun chose this for me, you know he is the chef kiss when it comes to fashion.”

“He did well.” he smiled. “How is Sehun by the way, I did not see him since ages. Did he come back from France?”

“No.” you pouted. You really missed your noisy cousin. “He just came to visit for a week, then came back to school. I am not sure if he will come back to be honest, he got some important invitations from European universities.”

“Very good.” Kyungsoo’s face was lit up. He was proud of Sehun. “I know you miss him, but he has a bright career ahead of him.”

“Yes, I know.” you also smiled. Thinking about your successful but extremely playful cousin made you happy. “I just worry about him.”

“Stop babying him.” Kyungsoo punched your arm as half serious half joke. “How old is he, 27?”

“Yeah.” you laughed. “I know I baby him very much, but we all do, Kyungsoo.”

“You are just one year older than Sehun.” he smirked. “Who is going to baby you?”

“Chanyeol.” you exhaled. Kyungsoo looked at you for a second, then both of you burst into laughs because it was well known that you also took care of Chanyeol and Baekhyun as well as Sehun. “Jokes aside, I am a strong and big girl, Kyungsoo, I do not need someone babying me.”

“Maybe you can start looking for a sugar daddy to baby you?” he cocked his eyebrows to you. “Before it is going to be too late?”

“Actually, I had some candidates in my pocket.” you devilishly beamed to him. “You have no idea.”

“Beg your pardon?” his face suddenly transformed from joy to deadpanned seriousness, and his smile was disappeared immediately. “I was joking.”

“I was not.” you blinked your eye. “Some people really proposed to me.”

“For being your sugar daddy?”

“I know I am very little in your eyes, Kyungsoo” you took a deep breathe before continuing. “But here the breaking news: some people could find me attractive.”

“We are not talk about usual dates or men.” he held your arm and turned you to himself. “If you receive this kind of proposes, you have to tell me.”

“Next time, I will report you so we can decide who is going to be my sugar daddy.” you poked his ribs while he burrowed his eyebrows and radiated a strong sense of discontent. “Come on Kyungsoo, I am not going to say yes to this type of proposes, what do you think about me?”

“We are always joking about this issue,” he looked like he was cursing beneath his breath. “But when it comes to you and Baekhyun, I always suspect if you are serious or not.”

“Sugar daddy is a joke.” you hissed. “Of course, it is a joke, I have no interest in having a sugar daddy.”

“What about the proposes? Are they real?”

“Well, they are.” you murmured. Suddenly, you felt like the table was turned and you just played your ace card too early. You felt like Kyungsoo’s eyes investigated your soul to the bits.

“How many?”

��Three.” you gave up. “One from faculty, two from outside.”

“Unethical son of bitches.” he lowly cursed and caught you off guard because he generally preferred to use more polite words, even if he was cursing. “Keep them away from yourself.”

“Oh really?” you teased him by hoping to break the strange tension between you and managed to put a little smile on his face.

“Stop mocking me.” he warned you but now he was smiling widely. His mouth became a heart again, this time you averted your eyes from his face.

“Who I am to dare mocking you?” you squeaked but it was fake.

“Oh, you mock me more than even that walking noisy machine Baekhyun.” he flicked his hand. “We have to stop at this station, Ebisu Garden Place is on the way.”

He put his hand onto your waist again, and you felt like electrocuted again. Every time he touched you, and unfortunately, he sporadically did, you felt like you are dying for more. More what? You were not sure what you really wanted from Kyungsoo, but you were certain on you were desperate for more of him.

More of him.

The bus was crowded, Kyungsoo led you to a little corner, and stayed in front of you. He could be a little bit protective when it came to crowded places since you were clumsy, he generally insisted to keep you close to himself in order to catch you, if you would lose your balance, so you did not surprise when he held your wrist.

What made your heart to do a perfect all kill type of somersault was his next move, his fingers did not stop on your wrist, on the contrary they moved into your palm and grasped your hand tightly. You raised your eyes to him, he never hold your hand, never ever.

“I want to be sure.” he whispered by catching your question before you ask. “Since both of us do not know the way, and the bus is full of passengers, this is more secure.”

“Ah.” This was the best of you at the moment. You quickly realized what the heck you said but Kyungsoo sometimes can be quicker than you.

“Why? Are you unsatisfied with the reason?” His dark brown eyes were shining, his perfume smelled fucking good and the proximity between your faces did not help you.

“Why should I be?” you had to be back to play as soon as possible. “I grant you the chance of holding my hand, that’s count as charity.”

He looked at your hand for a moment, and you saw a smile formed on his lips and instead of a sarcastic reply as you expected, his eyes shaped like a crescent and shined as the fucking moon itself during a cloudless, navy night.

“Thank you, your highness.” he genuinely smiled. “May I continue to hold your hand?”

“Why?” the tone of your question was full of surprise, sounded exceptionally strange.

“Because I want to feel you.” he simply answered, and he squeezed your hand a little bit more. “For once let me feel you by my side.”

You knew that your eyes blown up, your mind was playing some tricky and dangerous games with you, you lost your shit, and you were sure about you finally made yourself mad because of your platonic interest in Kyungsoo, but even if God himself would appear in the bus in order to stop you, that would be a fruitless attempt.

You held Kyungsoo’s hand.

If he wanted to feel you by his side, you could not refuse.

You never refuse Kyungsoo.

How could you?

He was the protagonist of your secret dreams, fantasies and your goddam powerful imagination.

He was your gazelle and you were chasing him since the first day you met.

[stiltonbasket]

Hi!! Could I perhaps request LQR baby-sitting A-Yu and A-Lan for the renouncement verse? Thanks, love you <333

(brief author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Lan Qiren’s nephews keep overworking themselves. 

This wouldn’t be a bad thing if they hadn’t been doing it for the last several years, but it’s beginning to wear on them. Xichen’s eyes are always red and swollen from writing letters by candlelight, and Lan Qiren doesn’t remember the last time he saw Wangji without trade reports in his arms and spit-up milk on his robes, so he finally puts his foot down and decides to give all three of them a break in early autumn. 

“Xichen, go take a soak in the hot springs,” he orders, sweeping into the hanshi and shoving everything on Lan Xichen’s desk up one of his sleeves. “Now.”

Lan Xichen is so exhausted that he tries to paint a line of calligraphy onto the expensive wood of his writing table. “Shufu?” 

“You heard me,” Lan Qiren scolds. “Go on! I’ll finish the petition forms by tomorrow.” 

Somewhat bewildered, Lan Xichen ambles out through the hanshi’s back door and splashes into the hot spring, leaving Lan Qiren to march down to the jingshi and confiscate all of Wangji’s trade contracts. He also confiscates baby A-Lan, who is lying in Lan Wangji’s lap and trying to eat his jade pendant. 

“What are you doing?” Wangji asks, watching him tug the rest of his letters out of Wei Ying’s hands and stuff those up his sleeves, too. “Uncle?” 

“You and Wei Ying need a rest,” he announces. “I am taking your work to the meishi, and I am also taking your children. Do not come to fetch them until sunset.” 

And with that, he straps Wei Shuilan to his chest and takes Lan Yu by the hand, bundling them off to his own residence before their parents have time to do much more than blink at him in confusion. 

“Huh,” Wei Wuxian says, after he leaves. “I think your uncle has a point, actually. Let’s go to bed, Lan Zhan.”

__

When Lan Qiren gets back to the meishi, he settles A-Lan down for a nap and gives Xiao-Yu a snack and some silver puzzle rings to improve his hand-eye coordination. “It almost reminds me of the old days,” he sighs, as Shuilan kicks her chubby little feet before falling asleep with her thumb in her mouth. “Even if Wangji never went down for naps without a fuss.” 

Lan Qiren was nineteen when he became acting sect leader, and he was also nineteen when he received custody of Xichen: not coincidentally, because the clan hoped that taking charge of the sect would prevent him from raising his nephew and allow one of them to take over his care instead. But Lan Qiren was nothing if not stubborn, so Lan Huan went with him everywhere—to meetings, discussion conferences, and even the odd wedding now and then, and was generally such an amiable baby that he adjusted to his uncle’s fraught travelling schedule without a fuss. In fact, the first time Lan Huan met Jiang Yanli had been during a week-long cultivation event at Lotus Pier, yawning in a sling on Lan Qiren’s back while Jiang Yanli napped on Jiang Fengmian’s chest, and Jiang Fengmian had even mentioned the possibility of a betrothal between the two babies when they were older. 

“My wife wants to contract an engagement between Xiao-Li and a son born to her sworn sister, but Jin-zongzhu and Jin-furen have not yet had a child,” Jiang-zongzhu had sighed, letting his daughter’s little fingers wrap around his. He looked heartbroken at the mere thought of parting from her, Lan Qiren remembers—which was probably why he named her yan li, to hate separation, because Jiang Yanli’s premature birth nearly stole her away from her parents the moment she entered the world. 

“Lanling is closer to Gusu than Yunmeng,” Lan Qiren pointed out. Yunmeng Jiang would make an excellent alliance by marriage, and he was fairly certain at the time that Jiang Yanli would grow up to resemble her mild-mannered father rather than her hot-tempered mother. He was right, of course, since Jiang-guniang took after Jiang Fengmian in both looks and character, but contracting a betrothal with her for Xichen would have done both of them a disservice—because Xichen could never have loved her as she would have wanted to be loved, and he could never have given her children, either. 

“Shugong?” a little voice says at Lan Qiren’s elbow, distracting him from the possibility of a world where Lan Huan married Jiang Yanli and crippled Lanling Jin’s influence after the Sunshot Campaign. “Xiao-Yu is done with the puzzle. I have another one?”

“Already?” Lan Qiren asks. This is yet another trait Xiaohui inherited from Wei Wuxian despite not being related to him, and Lan Qiren feels his heart swell with pride at his great-nephew’s intelligence. “Then you may play with the wooden blocks on that shelf, and see how high you can build your tower without letting it fall over.”

Xiao-Yu settles down on the hearthrug to stack up the fine-carved building blocks, and Lan Qiren goes through his nephew’s papers in peace for another hour before A-Lan wakes up from her nap and wails for her milk at the top of her lungs. 

“Do not cry,” Lan Qiren soothes, securing the child in her swaddle before heating a bottle with a warming talisman. “Here is your supper, and your xiongzhang is there on the mat.”

He has to keep A-Lan in his arms after that, since his tiny great-niece is so used to being held that putting her down would break her little heart; and Lan Qiren would rather die than let go of her, because he dearly misses holding his nephews, and not so long ago he was certain he would never have the chance to hold a baby again. 

And then, as if cuddling A-Lan to his chest wasn’t wonderful enough, Xiao-Yu pulls one of Wangji’s old picture books out of Lan Qiren’s storage trunk and runs over to sit in his lap, pushing the trade contracts aside and replacing them with the fable of the magic lotus lantern.

“Shugong, read to Xiao-Yu?” the little boy begs, snuggling into Lan Qiren’s overgown next to his cooing baby sister. “A-Die likes this story best.”

Of course he does, Lan Qiren thinks, as he flips the cover open and starts to read. The tale of the magic lotus lantern was written about a child whose mother was stolen away from him, taken back to the heavens by force when her godly brother discovered the magic lantern that illuminated her way to the mortal world—and for a while Wangji believed that his mother was like the immortal Sanshengmu, who loved a human man and had a child with him before returning to the realm she came from. Sanshengmu’s story ended with her being reunited with her husband and son, and the little Wangji never gave up hope that his own mother might come back in much the same way, even after he was old enough to stop believing in fairy stories. 

“Why did they fight?” Xiao-Yu asks, leaning closer to see the picture of the goddess’s lover with his brush and scroll. “That’s against the rules!”

“Sometimes people who love one another fight because they cannot understand their feelings,” Lan Qiren tells him, tapping the point of his soft button nose. “So it was with Sanshengmu and Liu Yanchang-gongzi, and when he awoke, she revealed her true identity, and explained why she sent a rainstorm to plague him after she read his poem. 

“Both apologized profusely. Days went by, and Liu Yanchang finally recovered. By then the goddess and the scholar had fallen deeply in love, and marriage naturally ensued. Encouraged by Goddess Sanshengmu, Liu Yanchang continued with his journey to the capital to take the imperial examination, and months later, the goddess gave birth to their son, whom she named Chenxiang.

“At the same time, the goddess’s celestial family had learned about her marriage to an earthly man. Her brother, known as Divine Erlang, found his unruly sister and demanded that she renounce her new family and return with him to their heavenly home, but Sanshengmu refused, and battled him with the power of her magical lotus lantern…”

__

“I want to paint a portrait of this,” Wei Wuxian whispers, when he and Lan Zhan creep into the meishi after sunset to find Lan Qiren fast asleep on the floor, with A-Lan snoozing on his chest and Xiao-Yu curled up in the crook of his arm. “They’re so sweet, Lan Zhan!”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan murmurs, his eyes softening as he looks at the open book on his uncle’s desk. Lan Qiren clearly just finished reading it before he fell asleep, because the book is open to the very last picture; a color painting of a goddess embracing a youth and an older man with a lotus-shaped lantern hanging at the crook of her elbow. “Bring a blanket and a pillow, Wei Ying. We should let them sleep.”

(Lan Qiren often finds himself toting his little great-nephew and niece around the Cloud Recesses after that, and Xiao-Yu’s favorite place to play in his parents’ absence is always the house where his shugong lives.)

[justagaymess]

SAFE WITH ME...

Warnings: Violence, swearing

Pairing: Beginning of Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Y/N is a fire based mutant who is still figuring out their powers and Natasha tries to help them.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is my first fic and I suck at summaries, I’m sorry. I will probably be continuing this au so the nerdiness will make more sense later.

They were supposed to be backup. In-case of emergency, is what they were told. If that was true, why were they there in the middle of a fight, outnumbered, with no help? They could only guess. Who knew how many HYDRA agents there were lurking about. Y/N looked down and started to focus on their hands, urging sparks to form and turn into wispy flames. The orange strands that tangled around their hands were slowly growing larger, hotter. Y/N thrust their hands out toward two HYDRA agents, flames shot against them, causing them to fall back with the flames attached to their vests. Desperately, pointlessly, they tried to smother the flames before the smoke could smother them. Y/N ran up to another agent, kneed him in the chest, and put their burning hands on his face, which caused a scream and the guard to collapse. The last HYDRA man took them a bit by surprise, he snuck up behind them and pressed a blade to their throat. Y/N gasped as the cold metal met their overheated skin. Y/N brought their hands up to the hand holding the knife. They burned him enough to let go, but not enough to deter him from attacking again. The man was large, not as big as Thor, but still, large enough to intimidate the smaller Y/N. They began to focus again, letting their fire grow over their arms, spread across their torso and into their hair. They charged the man currently gathering his wits. He quickly grabbed his knife and started slashing in Y/N’s general direction. They swung for his legs, making the man stumble and swing his arm down hard onto Y/N. His knife landed in their shoulder, Y/N shrieked in surprise and pain. The man grabbed the knife and started to swing again, when a bullet pierced his back and he fell to the ground.

Natasha lowered her gun and walked over to Y/N quickly; their flames flickered and died out. Y/N quickly discarded their jacket, the breeze cool on their hot skin. Having only gotten their powers six months or so ago, their body was not used to the strain. 

“Your flames were getting pretty big,” Natasha said looking them over. “Almost like the warning beacons of Gondor.” Natasha added, small knowing smirk attached to her lips. Y/N looked at her quizzically. Their face breaking into a grin and a small chuckle forced its way out.

“I cannot believe that THE Black Widow just said that.” Y/N bit their lip to stifle another laugh. Natasha rolled her eyes and tried to hide a shy smile. “Who knew that Natasha Romanoff was a nerd?” They playfully nudged Nat’s shoulder, their hand lingered on her arm.

“I’m more than meets the eye,” Nat winked at Y/N, acutely aware of their hand. “But if you tell anyone, you know what I’ll do.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m fine. Just need to cool down a little bit.” Natasha nodded and looked around, checking the surroundings to make sure that they were clear.

“Steve, Update?” Natasha spoke into her comms, waiting for an answer she turned back to Y/N who was hunched over, hands on their knees and breathing harder than normal. Natasha put her hand on their back and rubbed gently. Their posture stiffened for a brief second after Nat put her hand down, but relaxed quickly, almost melting into the touch.

“Taking heavy fire in the southwest corner; Tony and Peter are inside securing the intel,” Steve responded. Natasha nodded and took her hand off Y/N’s back. 

“You good?” She asked them, checking their position again; making sure nobody was sneaking up on them. They nodded and stood up, grabbed their jacket and pulled it back on. “We’re on our way,” Natasha replied to Steve, and grabbed her gun from her holster. Y/N and she ran to Steve, Wanda and Clint’s positions. They were truly overrun with enemies. Hydra agents everywhere. The team was trying their best to hold them off and stop them from gaining access to the building, but they were quickly losing. Clint’s arrows were flying and there were very few left. Wanda was tired; it could be seen in her body language, hands slower than normal, red tendrils of energy slow and lagging. Y/N understood why, there were too many of them for those three to take on by themselves but, they all liked a challenge. Y/N grabbed their own gun from the holster on their thigh. They quickly aimed and shot a man directly behind Wanda. She gasped and waved a silent ‘thank you,’ before continuing her own assault.

Y/N unloaded their gun rather quickly, too many people, too few bullets, and unlike the rest of the gun toting gang, they didn't carry five extra magazines. They dropped their gun and clocked the guy charging them, knocking him out cold. 

Once again, Y/N focused and let the bright orange flames lick at their skin, the heat and intensity strengthening. They shot flames from their fingertips, taking care to not catch their team in the cross-fire. They smirked and continued their work. Most of the agents are taken care of, Y/N let the flames dissipate once again. This time, they’re on the ground, eyes closed; trying to keep their mind off the dull pain radiating through their chest. Y/N put their head down on their knees and wrapped their arms around their legs. Natasha approached and sat next to them, and put her arm around their shoulders. Y/N flinched slightly as Nat’s arm made contact with their sensitive skin. Natasha noticed it but decided against speaking. They leaned slightly into Nat’s comforting touch. She had taken Y/N under her wing, so to speak, when the new recruit showed up with Maria, just over four months ago. Y/N only had her powers about two months longer than that, having escaped a HYDRA facility much like the one that they were at, not that most of the team knew. In fact only the original Avengers were privy to that information. Fury deemed it unnecessary that the lower ranking members know, for now at least. Natasha was the one training Y/N, being the most skilled in hand to hand combat, also providing an excuse for both of them to be together.

———

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

The compound was quiet, everyone was either on a mission or at their own homes. Y/N was alone for the first time since becoming an Avenger a month prior. Y/N shuffled around the large living quarters, and made their way to the kitchen to grab some food before training in the fireproof room that Tony had made for them. They had decided against getting dressed up to train, instead opting for their sleep shorts with little ducks printed onto the fabric and an old ratty band tee, clothes they wouldn’t mind if they got burned. Once they made it to the kitchen, they grabbed a granola bar and headed down the stairs to the training floor and into the specialized room. They grabbed some of the mannequins and set them in different positions, to practice their aim. They sat down and ate their small breakfast, thoughts swirling around their head. Thoughts about their past, their new team, but mostly of Natasha. She was the first one to try to include Y/N in group activities, be it movie night, or group training. Natasha had taken Y/N in, showing them kindness, but Y/N hoped there was something else there too. They noticed her lingering touches, her eyes drifting down to Y/N’s lips when they talked, they noticed the subtle things that they thought that Natasha might not have even noticed herself doing. Y/N tried to think of something different, every time their mind wandered back to Natasha, her hands on their shoulder, and back, and everywhere. They thought about Natasha’s smile, how it made them feel when it was directed at them, the warmth that overtook them, so similar yet so different to their powers. Y/N shook their head, and hoped the thoughts would get pushed aside as their head moved. Y/N looked down at their hands, they tried to focus and draw a flame, to no avail, their mind kept veering back to the redhead that gained their affection. Y/N tried like this for a while before they sighed, leaned against the wall and slid down into a sitting position. A soft knocking sound came from the door, which startled Y/N, they looked toward the source of the noise. Natasha stood there, eyebrows raised in a questioning expression, a small smirk on her plump lips. 

“Having trouble?” Nat asked, walking over to them. They nodded and stood back up, frowning slightly. “Something distracting you?” She asked taking their hands in hers, her eyes never breaking their gaze. 

“Yeah, you!” Y/N screamed internally to themself. They just shrug, and look away, eye contact too intense. Natasha looked down, her eyes catching sight of Y/N’s ridiculous shorts. She started to laugh. An expression of confusion flashed over Y/N’s face. “What?” They asked aloud, Nat just pointed to their shorts.

“Do you want some help?” She asked, ceasing her laughter. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“How?” Instead of responding Natasha walked behind them. She wrapped her arms around them, holding onto their arms. Her chest pressed against their back, their eyes widened and hoped that Nat can't see the blush making its way up their neck. 

“Breathe in, one……two……three……” She whispered into their ear. Y/N’s heart was beating out of their chest when she moved her hand to their sternum and waist.They were keenly aware of Nat’s hot breath on the back of their neck, and the rise and fall of her chest against their back. They could barely pull themselves together enough to follow her suggestion. “Out three……two……one…… Continue like that.”

“O-Okay,” Y/N’s voice came out jagged and breathless, they internally cursed themselves. The feeling of Nat surrounding them was intense. They tried, their breath sharp.

“Close your eyes, visualize the feeling of your powers,” They complied, the feeling of Natasha so similar to the feeling of the flames, same heat, same energy, same warmth. Things were definitely different, but having Nat there brought their attention to the similarities. They used the feeling of her right there to try again. A small spark appeared in their hand, soon it spread to cover their palm. They both opened their eyes, they smiled to each other.

“Thanks Natasha,” Y/N murmured. Natasha just nodded and let them go. She backed up and left the room, not uttering another word. Her own heartbeat hammered in her chest.

———

“Don't think I’ve forgotten about the whole Lord of the Rings thing. We have stuff to talk about,” Y/N said cheekily, opening their eyes and unfolding their limbs. Natasha just rolled her eyes and shoved them playfully, standing up, she extended her hand to them pulling them up with her. They dusted off their suits, Y/N watched Natasha, eyes quickly flitted away when Nat looked up at them.

“Uh huh, I’m sure we do,” Natasha replied, walking toward the other Avengers to regroup and wait for the other two to return. Y/N stood still for a moment before catching up with the group. They couldn’t help but think about Natasha’s arm around them. It felt good, almost loving, despite the sensitivity of their skin. Y/N sighed and leaned against the building, watching around for any sign of trouble or their teammates.

After a while Tony came through the comms telling every one to be on alert, more men coming and that they were on their way out. Hot on the heels of that short warning was a flood of HYDRA agents. They swarmed around the badly armed team, everyone started to fight. Y/N, the newest to the team, also had the least amount of training. Which is why they were intended to be back up, not a regular team member quite yet. Y/N was weak, not just because they’ve been fighting for what felt like hours, but because their powers took a lot of energy. Y/N knew fire was the only way to help the team at this point. Their punches didn’t connect and they had been knocked down several times already.

One last time Y/N started to focus, but as soon as they saw those wisps of red and orange they knew they had fucked up. Their powers as well as draining them, had the potential to hurt them, and that is what happened. Instead of the calming warmth that radiated from them before, a raging heat clawed at their skin and burrowed down their body. Y/N’s team needed them but the pain was already blinding, black spots dotted their vision and they collapsed on the grass screaming in pain.They felt their skin burning and blistering, hands red and raw. Their body felt as if it were boiling them alive. It was agony. The only slight relief was that when they went down, their flames shot out and took several agents with them. On the ground Y/N was shaking and the flames were growing stronger. Natasha knew what happened as soon as she heard the scream. She was the only person who bothered to read their file, or talk to them about the “gifts,” as HYDRA called them, bestowed upon them. She knew that this would happen if they overworked themself, but the team needed backup and Y/N insisted on coming with them. Natasha took down another agent and ran toward the burning Y/N. 

“Y/N! Y/N focus on me!” She yelled over their convulsing form. Y/N looked up, tears streaking down their face, blurring their already spotty vision. “I need you to focus on my voice and match your breathing to mine.” Natasha spoke in hope of calming them down enough to make the flames disappear. They watched Natasha breathe for a moment before slowly matching her rhythm, the flames gradually lost their height and intensity until all that was left was a bright red Y/N, their sobs wracking their body. Natasha leaned in and wrapped her arms around them, trying to comfort them. Y/N shrieked at the light contact, their body covered in burns. Natasha quickly released them and looked over Y/N, trying to find any place she could lay a comforting touch.

Tony and Peter ran out of the building not stopping to help take down the rest of  the agents. 

“Come on! We got it! Lets go!” Peter spoke. Wanda and Clint ran after them, and Steve ran over to Y/N and picked them up, despite their protests. The pain only made worse with the pressure of Steve’s arm on their back. The Quinjet was ready to take off as soon as they got on board. Steve set Y/N down in one of the seats and Natasha sat next to them. Steve stepped away to talk to Tony after securing the belt around Y/N.

Y/N leaned backward, hands splayed out on their knees, the slight pressure on their body almost intolerable. Natasha sat sideways in her seat, eyes trained on Y/N’s slightly pain contorted face. She reached up and tucked some loose strands of Y/N’s hair behind their ear, gently she ran her fingers through their Y/H/C locks. Y/N closed their eyes and sighed, they grabbed Natasha’s free hand. Their hand wrapped around Natasha’s, they held on lightly. Natasha released a small smile as Y/N started to drift off.

Y/N woke several hours later in the medbay. Bandages covered their arms, hands, and their full torso. They looked around the pristine white room and spied the redheaded assassin curled up in an uncomfortable looking chair. They smiled and closed  their eyes again and tried to reposition themselves. The movement sent shooting pains through their body and they gasped and groaned. The full force of their injuries hitting them. Natasha bolted upright and stood next to them. She put her hand on their cheek and bent down to look them in the eyes.

“It’s alright, I’m here. You’re safe, you’re with me,” Natasha whispered and lightly stroked Y/N’s cheek. Y/N looked up, a small half smile played at the corner of their lips as they sighed. Natasha called for the doctor, once they had checked them out and cleared out of the room, Natasha pulled her chair over next to the bed. She sat down and held Y/N’s hand lightly. A comfortable silence fell over the room, the only noise was from their breathing and the rhythmic beeping of the machines that Y/N was connected to. 

“Talk about those beacons, right?” Y/N croaked out with a secretive smile. Natasha chuckled, shook her head, and rubbed the back of their hand. 

[ironicinsomniak]

As an empath, this year has been incredibly mentally and emotionally exhausting. All I hear, read, and see is hate hate hate everywhere.

It would take its toll on a normal person who cares about others, but as a super empath who tends to constantly put all others needs before my own, I’m fucking burnt out.

This year has opened my eyes up to many things. Mainly that this country is so stuck in past conservative ideologies, that people will literally bulldoze over anyone with a progressive opinion to make sure their guns, pro-life choices, religious views, white supremacy, and the constitution is upheld, no matter what the cost.

I’m so fucking sick to my stomach. This country is so divided. I am not proud to be an American, I am ashamed. I’m embarrassed by this country’s behavior, and how one disgusting orange man has been put on a pedestal by so many. Why is this fascist treated like a messiah? My brain literally cannot compute the endless list of horrifying things he’s done into something that even resembles a valid reason for his actions.

I’m so fucking burnt out. As a white woman, I’m no stranger to white privilege. I grew up with it, and I look at what I have, and then look at others, people of color and other minorities, and now that I’m older I don’t understand why and how racism still exists. What does it achieve? Why does the color of someone’s skin or where they came from even matter anymore!? This country was built by slaves and immigrants. I have to admit I had my head in a paper bag for this one. This fascist leader has shown me how racist and hateful this country still is. The amount of white supremacy that still exists is astonishing.

I’m so fucking scared. As a woman, to watch everything RBG did for us literally on the verge of going up in flames because conservatives think it’s more important to follow a book full of fairy tales then to take care of the actual living women standing in front of you. I don’t understand how today, in the year 2020, old white men still think they have the right to control women’s decisions and their bodies, how is that possible?

I’m so fucking stressed out. Yeah, I had white privilege, but I’m also a millennial. I’m 32 years old and living in my parent’s basement because there is no fucking way I can afford a mortgage, or even rent with my dead end job, my worthless college degree, and my crippling loan and credit card debt. And what did I achieve? Nothing. I am miserable, and I’m so deep in a hole that I wouldn’t even know where to begin to try to get out.

I’m so fucking sad, and lonely. I had a beautiful, happy, 7 year long relationship with a man I truly loved and had every intention of marrying. Instead, it ended with lies and cheating. And now I look at society, and how this year has brought out the true colors of many, and I think to myself how is any woman ever going to be able to trust a man again? I sure don’t see myself trusting another member of the opposite sex anytime soon. So many men are ultra right, pro-life, gun toting narcissists. I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life then subject myself to that.

I have been suicidal many times this year. I’ve never attempted, but the thoughts have been strong and I’ve been borderline more than once. As a super empath, this year has just been system overload for me. I feel powerless, and sick all the time. I have deep feelings of dread and despair, hopelessness and defeat.

Bile literally rises into my throat every time I even think that it’s a possibility that we’d have to endure another 4 more years of this. That masks over our faces will now be a forever norm of life. I miss my Grandma’s smile, my best friends clear and loud laughter. I miss greeting people with a smile and a hello, instead now all we get is side eye and silent judgement. “What side are you on?” “What do you believe?” “Who are you supporting?” Never in my entire life have I ever cared about politics. I’m 32 years old and I have never voted once. You can bet your fucking ass I’m voting this year. I’m all registered and ready to go. This year is the year I feel like my vote may matter, and it’s my duty as a fucking decently moral human being who cares for others to vote. But it’s gotten to the point where I’m even past that now.

After the vote, and after the election, we still have to deal with the aftermath of a country that has been destroyed, divided, and diseased. No matter what the outcome, this year has revealed so much about our society and humanity, the fight is not going to be over anytime soon. And I’m fucking burnt out.

[rgr-pop]

i haven’t read the surrogacy book (i actually do intend to, because of all of this!) and it is absolutely fanning the natalist* flames, that’s true. and it’s doing so partially on purpose, it is making a provocation to be provocative! there’s a lot more context there, though. for one, we’re in the middle of a nu social reproduction revival, and i see this book as part of that literature, and timely. but it is also timely politically, and i do imagine (hope?) that lewis has observed this sort of new wave of biologic nationalism--i’m sure she had finished the book by the time n*gle published the borders article, but thinkers savvier than i must have seen that coming, given the state of borders and population paranoia around the white globe. plus, i assume (again: hope?) this book in some ways addresses some of the creeping terrors of alienation (”atomization”) that are leading to this: n*gle for example writes a book arguing that atomization (the disruption of the family) incubated this new global right. it is obviously time for the left to be reading and writing books against the family.

i have been very surprised that it is the “against the family” part of the surrogacy book that has been so controversial everywhere, and all across the left. it seems like that critique should be familiar to absolutely everyone, fundamental even. the kind of technocratic claims (cannot assess until i read!) should, to me, have been the ones that people were freaking out about--and those are the ones that are transparently experimental and probably inflammatory. (and those kinds of arguments have a much different position in the feminist canon, but, again, cannot assess until i read.) but what’s actually happening is “parenting is labor, in fact productive labor in capitalism, including the labor of labor” is fucking tearing everyone apart, from anarchists to dsa caucuses to podcast accellerationists and, most of all, everyone in the strasserite wars. they are losing their fucking MINDS. they saw “abolish the family” and leaped off their fucking roofs. absolute fuckin hysteria.

but ALC is another thing entirely. imo she is your average (absolutely dead average except for being basically bari weiss) wealthy liberal. she’s not a leftist of any stripe, even though she occasionally speaks about or on behalf of them on her twitter. so she contributes some “against the family” tweets, but they are not “against the family,” they are actually just... well, everyone is acccusing her of just doing therapy, which kind of is what it is. she asked what the point of parents were, and somehow none of her weird liz warren philospher fans or any of the enraged were like “a social relation?” instead they were like “your life has sad. family is BIOLOGY and DESTINY” and of course her response was “you think that your parents love you, but they don’t.” this is as far as comp lit will get you, my friends. in any case, everyone seems to agree that good parents or bad parents is a “lottery” or perhaps some kind of inherited “brain worm,” as the kids these days are saying. none of them said: maybe there are reasons that our mothers can’t support us? (silly me! if mothers need supporting, then we must ban abortions, so that we can reward pregnant women with welfare! bruenig welfare.)

my point here being that ALC was being deliberately inflammatory--and, okay, she’s big Not a Genius, again, that’s the best you can hope for a rich comp lit grad--and, it worked, in that, again, the natalists are saying “they are coming for our FAMILIES.” they already hate (and maybe hatefollow) her because she is like an obnoxious comp lit liberal on twitter who everyone hates, and also because a lot of these people (obvs) love to hate trans women (although this trend isn’t nearly as easy to predict in this milieu as I would have thought. much like regular t*rfs themselves, they are all the hell over the place.) (in that screenshot i posted, the OP is one of aimee’s reply girls, and the person who responded to her is some kind of leftist european who also posts a lot about the trans threat. an anti-trans activist? in MY “it’s biology actually”?). 

none of this is new for ALC. for those of you who haven’t heard of her, she somewhat notoriously wrote, well, this. i don’t want to be flat-out mean about this part, but if i’m being honest, the way i interpret her career is that she was handed a pedigree that allows her to sell sanitized summaries of twenty-year-old intra-community trans issues to NPR tote bags. (the mean part is I truly think she believes she has conjured her own ideas at some point in her life. she hasn’t.) I think she was being deliberately inflammatory but I’m not even entirely convinced that she mounted this “conversation” in light of the aforementioned conversations; not sure she has the range. (she definitely does not have the range to be a cryptofascist!) but, still, “parenting is labor that operates a way in capitalism” is absolutely outside of her vision! not to bolster the “she’s just trying to make us therapize her” argument, which I find mostly annoying, it does seem, like, true, that this is a much harder thing to understand if you are rich. and I don’t yet know how to explain it in a way that raises the consciousness of the wealthier!** you DON’T have to love your rich mom, but it would be nice not to see “mothers are a social problem, the problem is mothers” from people who went to duke or wellesley u know

*henceforth this is how i refer to all the “left” organizing around the issue of population & the family who are elsewhere cyberbullied as “cryptofascist”

**wait, maybe I do! “social reproduction”

[annashipper]

JT Anon

Anna:  JT sent me a very ranty submission in reply to this ask (LINK), so I’m including the ask herein for easy reference:

Nonny:   if they did go home together they could both have used the back door, no? why the pap op? to help publicize kubrick event, perhaps? also, she might have stayed in nyc because she has friends to see and didn’t need to rush back two days after met gala. we don’t know whether whole family, including nanny, didn’t come to nyc cause we didn’t see anyone, including BC, arrive at JFK. so it’s possible they all arrived together and left separately. details.

JT Anon:  but nonny this is the problem, we ALWAYS have to think of some excuse as to why ben is travelling alone, and surely they must have just arrived together (or left together). the fact of the matter is, ben went on record to say that if he is EVER away form the kids for more than a day or two, he has the entire family w him. full stop. that is what he said. and yet immediately after he said that we have not seen him travelling w his kids once. not once. in fact we’ve never seen ben and sophie complete a trip together since she gave ‘birth’. its always only on one end. also between you and me, the idea that these two have to have a nanny w them 24/7 because they can’t simply parent their kids w out other adults is hellah sad to me. i know they would be going to events etc, but still.

maybe thats why BC doesn’t have any anecdotes about his kids, he doesn’t actually spend any time w them at all. he is constantly farming them off to other people

personally, while im w anna in that i think the majority of enty stuff is pr fed, if i were to believe that the kids were real and living w him, then i believe enty when he says ben is just simply lying. mainly because only a pretty nasty guy would drag his tiny newborn infants onto multiple flights into different time zones, only to ditch them w the help and not parent them on said flights

I also agree w enty that he is lying about having his kids w him everywhere because we just haven’t seen it. it just simply doesn’t make sense that a man would go to all the trouble to hire very expensive 24/7 hour help (because, again, who wants to be left alone w their kids? not ben. not sophe. if what ben says is true, these two are not hands on parents. we have a lot of proof of that) only to arrive and leave w them sep every single time. i mean, what sort of man disrupts his kids like that so he can feel like he is being a god father, all the while not even bothering to sit w them on a plane? like if ben cant even get on and off a plane w his kids…

in this case, the simplest ex is likely the truth. he is lying. we have photographic evidence of bens travels, and since saying he is never w out them, we have actually never seen him w them.

if you believe that the kids are real, and that ben is not such a horrid parent that he immediately leaves the plane, ignoring his kids and walking off in front of cameras for pap shots, leaving either w a nanny or both sophie and a nanny to struggle w the kids (out the door w no paps? if he is private, and the kids have found a way in and out of the airport w out paps…why don’t they all do that…since they don’t want attention)

this brings us back to those little calendars of travel we have of ben. assuming the kids are real, ben has left his kids for literally MONTHS. months. If you add up all the weeks he took off, its been MONTHS he has left his kids, from the min they were born. he has left his kids for months, because i do not believe he has had them w him (and ben, if you drag kids through an airport now its not going to convince me). we have proof he lied and doesn’t take them w him.

If I were to believe the kids were real, then at this point i would think that all of that talk about finding his love and finally rocking his babies in his arms were stories for branding purposes. (i happen to think they were, however i always assumed there was some mild truth to it and they just hammered it to make him likeable to his female fan base, that the topic didn’t actually loom that large in his head) and because he branded himself as being desperate for love and babies, when sophie turned up preg, likely not by him, he had to double down on it. plus i also think he saw attention and big ass dollar signs. i think he and his team know that sophie causes this little discussion, and they are very happy to keep her around, and seen exactly the way she is to cont this steady stream of attention and eyeballs on his articles and pics that have her just off to the side. then not, then to the side again.  

hence the stories that he travels w his kids when we can see he does not

hence the stories that he rushes to give them a bath every night when we can see him away from home at at events were that isn’t possible.

hence all the other anecdotes from him about kids that are impossibilities and lies

if i were to believe the kids were real, i would believe that he is not a hands on father. that he does not spend much time, if any at all, w his kids. that he has round the clock care raising them. that he isn’t that interested in being a parent, and his stories are just keeping up w previous branding that was also untrue.

I personally always thought that pining for love and a family thing was for branding for his female fanbase, and if his kids and marriage are real, then i tend to believe it was less true and more branding  than i had originally thought

I think this is why so many of the nans have to tangle and pin red string onto dates and locations when seeing ben travelling alone and not out w his kids and saying things about kids that make no sense. they bought the pining for love and a kid thing hook, line and sinker. they thought it was the absolute truth. it never occurred to them that bens team took “yeah , sure id like a wife and kids one day” and turned it into “Ben weeping out of loneliness wants nothing more than to find his soulmate and rock his babies it consumes his heart!” because the response from his fan base was positive.  Because they bought this story and didn’t for one second think anything about bens personality was tweaked and manufactured, they can’t entertain the idea that now, now that he has found his heart (he TOLD them he lovedher! He SAID we HAVE to love her too!!!) and has kids, that his behaviour wouldn’t match whatever fairy tale they have in their heads.

they cannot accept that ben leaves his kids for weeks on end, so there MUST be some convoluted story of sophie CONSTANTLY staying behind w a nanny to visit friends when they are in NYC. They have to CONSTANTLY have the nanny w them 24/7 because there is no other way to explain them being in these places and not having their kids. They MUST only be out when they are seen, because they have to explain why he would bring his kids to NYC, only to leave them every night and every day to shop and eat.

I dont know what they’ve come up w to explain the fact that ben has now had 2 or 3 children and has not a single story about parenting that makes sense.

if you believe the kids are real, then the reality is this is not a man who spends time w his kids. his stories suggest he doesn’t even know them frankly. his stories about them make absolutely no sense. anyone who has done a daily routine w kids from ages birth to 8 knows that what he says makes no sense, and there are very specific things he has not said that he could absolutely say w out it being some invasion of privacy

I think nans just don’t want to accept that ben is not a loving hands on father. he doesn’t spend that much time w his kids. he would rather go work and party and vacation and socialise. he is perfectly happy to leave his kids w hired help constantly. he is perfectly happy to go on constant vacations and leave his kids. he isn’t all that interested in being w them during the day.

I think they also don’t want to accept that, like thousands of celebs before them, he sees these kids as a money making opportunity. that doesn’t mean he is forcing them to perform, but he can monetise them, and he has. he has tried to sell their pictures, he is using these silly stories for clicks, he hires paps. he has branded them into his image to make cash, while not spending much time w them

its actually not that hard to believe, it would be what makes the most sense in this situation. ben has kids he doesn’t really care for, isn’t’ interested in parenting. he has the cash to throw at people so he isn’t responsible for them, and he monetises them in as many ways possible to at least get some cash money out of this situation

its only people who believe the branded intimacy that have to spin in circles to make this not that. people who bought the idea that out of all the celebs on earth, he was not branded. they really super duper know him for real. they can tell he is totes genuine, he would never lie to them, he really does love his fans on some intimate level (how on earth?).

admitting that ben is a liar, that he does call the paps, that he does monetise his personal life, that he does brand his kids, that he isn’t the family man he says he is would be to admit that they were wrong about having some sort of understanding about a public figure that is more intimate than is actually possible. they would have to admit that, just like thousands of fans before them, they were suckered into not only thinking HE was special, but THEY are too.

and now before anyone gets on our cases and starts spitting on their computer screen as they shout “BIT RICH FOR YOU GUYS WHO ARE OBSESSED WITH HIM AND HIS FAMILY!!!!!!” There is a difference. We simply happen to take what he is saying and think its nor true and that he lies.We work w what we see.

Having said that, there ARE people who are skeptical of this whole thing who DO take it too far and think they they have some sort of connection w ben. The only broad thing I will say about that is, when discussing ANY public figure, if someone truly does believe that there are somehow secret messages being conveyed from said public figure, either from clothing choices, word choices, gestures, and that those secret messages have special meanings for that person because there is some sort of understanding between them and the public figure, despite no actual contact, i would HIGHLY encourage people not to engage w this person. don’t’ make fun of them, don’t’ attempt to talk them out of their thought process, it won’t work. just cut off communication about said public figure

sorry, this was a long one anna!

J travels w her dogs and actually leaves the aiport w them T anon

Anna:  I cosign 99.9% of what JT had to say above.  Especially these two parts:

the fact of the matter is, ben went on record to say that if he is EVER away form the kids for more than a day or two, he has the entire family w him. full stop. that is what he said. and yet immediately after he said that we have not seen him travelling w his kids once. not once. in fact we’ve never seen ben and sophie complete a trip together since she gave ‘birth’. . . . ben has now had 2 or 3 children and has not a single story about parenting that makes sense.

[luckyfaeth]

hello welcome to my new favorite junksen au ! 

Aubrey is a corporate accountant at a large company, and she’s put so much time and investment into becoming the best at her job that she never really found anyone to date

But she desperately wanted a child, and she’s finally super secure financially and in a good place in her career. So she adopted a son.

Michael Reese Posen is the light of Aubrey’s life. He’s 8 years old and has the biggest green eyes and scruffy unruly brown hair and his favorite color is yellow and he loves dinosaurs and wants to be an astronaut.

He’s always been a little shy though, and Aubrey tries her best to get him to open up. The only one he’ll really talk to other than Aubrey is Bella, Stacie’s daughter (Stacie and Aubrey are coworkers and close friends)

Michael also generally doesn’t like school, but that changes when he starts 3rd grade.

He comes home after the first day and he’s absolutely raving about his teacher.

“Mama, my teacher’s name is Ms. Emily and she’s super nice and she has pretty flowers in her room they’re sunflowers so they’re my favorite color and there are fun decorations everywhere and she brought us cupcakes!”

Aubrey listens to Michael ramble on about school for another 20 minutes, and it warms her heart because he’s so happy and excited.

Michael comes home and talks about school and his awesome teacher almost every day

“Mama, Ms. Emily bakes us cupcakes when we have tests!” “Mama, Ms. Emily lets us listen to Disney songs and singalong and she said I have a good voice!” “Mama, Ms. Emily helped me learn how to spell a big word today!” “Mama, Ms. Emily sings and plays guitar!”

Aubrey is so amazed at how excited Michael is about school. Like, every morning he’s so excited to go see what Ms. Emily has planned for them

A couple months in, parent/teacher conferences roll around, and Aubrey finally gets to meet the famous Ms. Emily

She walks in the classroom (Which is like walking into a rainbow. Seriously, it’s so fucking bright) and sees who she assumes to be Michael’s teacher looking down at her desk writing something so she knocks on the door to get her attention and is like “Hello? I’m here for the parent teacher conference. I’m Michael’s mom?”

And Emily’s head pops up and she gives Aubrey a huge smile and oh no Aubrey is too gay

Ideally teacher!Emily always wears like, cute flowery dresses or fun sweaters in the winter or sometimes she'll have fun and wear like denim overalls that have cute patches on them (her students helped her pick them out!!)

Also the first outfit Emily wears in pp2 and the pink checkered button up under the sweater vest fit the teacher!Emily aesthetic anyway back to plot

“Ms. Posen! It’s so great to meet you. Michael’s told me all about you. I’m Emily Junk. You can call me Emily though. Guess you see why I go by Ms. Emily, huh?”

Aubrey laughs and is like “Oh, Michael absolutely adores you. Every day it’s Ms. Emily this, Ms. Emily that. I honestly have never seen him more excited than when you showed them that movie about dinosaurs”

Aubrey cannot believe how undeniably kind Emily is and also understands why Michael likes her so much

Calm down Aubrey.

Aubrey thanks Emily because Michael’s always been a little closed off but Emily has really helped that and Emily is like “Aw, it’s really nothing. He’s still a little shy with the rest of the class, besides Bella. But he loves talking to me about what he’s reading during quiet time.”

“Well, that’s huge for him. He barely talks to my parents even. Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s amazing.”

Emily totally blushes.

Emily highkey thinks Aubrey is so freakin' attractive like .... she showed up to the conference looking all professional bc she just came from work and oh wow ok emily don't have a crush on one of your student's moms!! omg.... but she's just so pretty and poised and !!!

As they’re finishing up, Emily leads Aubrey out and Aubrey sees that she’s wearing bright yellow converse that match her cute sundress and it’s adorable

“It was so nice to meet you Ms. Posen.”

“Please, Emily. I told you to call me Aubrey.”

“It was so nice to meet you Aubrey,” Emily smiles. “Sorry I was checking my phone while we were talking. Just a little bit of stress to start the day with.”

“Oh it’s no problem, I understand. What’s got you stressed?” Aubrey doesn’t know why she asks but she does

“I had a bunch of parents gathered to help volunteer at this Halloween party I’m doing for the kids, but one of them dropped out and it’s right around the corner...But it’s no big deal. I can totally handle it.”

Aubrey says what she’s thinking before she can think too hard about it

“I could volunteer. If you need the extra set of hands.”

“No no no I couldn’t ask you do to that…”

“I’d love to help, Emily.”

So Aubrey ends up helping out and she decorates Emily’s classroom with her and Emily finds it amusing that Aubrey needs to stand on her toes to reach the top of the chalkboard but Emily doesn’t

For Halloween Emily dresses up as Minnie Mouse with the Minnie ears and the polka dot dress and it’s so adorable

Chloe being Emily's teacher friend and she saw Aubrey and Emily decorating together yesterday and then taking down all of the decorations today and she sees Aubrey laughing and Emily grinning like a dork and is like “hhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMM”

Aubrey and Michael leave and Chloe rushes over and Emily squeals because "dont scare me like that!!" but Chloe ignores her and she's like "you like her! you like her! emily you totes like her!!!!"

“No I don’t Chloe. Shut up”

Stacie and Aubrey talk about how the party went and Stacie is like “Aubrey, you think Emily is cute.”

“What? I mean, sure, she’s like a real-life Miss Honey. But I don’t-”

“Just admit you’re hot for teacher!”

“Stacie don’t say it like that.”

“Whatever, it’s true.”

Aubrey ends up volunteering to help at all of the other little events that Emily does for her class (Stacie says she’s whipped and Aubrey just says she wants to be more involved at the school. Stacie calls BS)

Emily offering Aubrey tea when she visits the classroom one day and Aubrey’s like “Sure thank you”

Emily pours her the tea and asks, “Honey?”

Aubrey’s really glad she wasn’t drinking yet because she would’ve spit it out “I-I’m sorry what???”

“Honey. With your tea??”

“OH”

Aubrey’s a blushing mess for once and Emily thinks it’s adorable

Michael totally catches onto Aubrey’s crush (as much as an 8 year old can) and asks “Mama do you like Ms. Emily?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart.”

“I thought so cuz you look at her like Flynn Ryder looks at Rapunzel” (Tangled is Michael’s favorite movie)

Aubrey’s like “Michael stay out of it this is adult business”

“Ok mama but if you wanted to marry Ms. Emily I’d be okay with it”

“Alright time for bed goodnight”

At the Christmas party Aubrey notices again how amazing Emily is with the kids (duh) and is like “you know I think if this was my job I’d never want kids” and Emily laughs but is like “nah I love them..I really do want kids someday still”

“How does your boyfriend feel about kids?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend..or girlfriend. Haha what a weird thing for you to assume. Oh no no Carter don’t poke Hannah with the candy cane!”

Aubrey screams a little internally because that was going so well goddamnit Carter what a little shit

Teacher appreciation week and Michael’s like “Mama we GOTTA get something for Ms. Emily”

“Ok so like what...a ... gift card? ...... maybe a....apple??? What do teachers like Michael”

Michael’s like “well ms emily really likes lots of things like animals and space and flowers and cupcakes and candy and -“

“Can you speed this up honey”

“Oh she likes mugs!! She has a different one everyday!!!”

Michael helping Aubrey pick out the Best Mugs for emily and they give her one for every day of the week because Aubrey is EXTRA!!!!

Emily’s like “oh my stars you didn’t have to do all this you know most people just give me a Starbucks gift card and are done with it...”

“Well I...we. We wanted to do something special for you.”

The last day Michael doesn’t show up with a mug and Emily is a little disappointed but she doesn’t question it

But then Aubrey comes to pick Michael up which is weird because usually Michael carpools with the Conrads but Emily gladly welcomes the visit

And Aubrey’s like “Michael could you give Ms. Emily and I one second to talk?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No sweetheart”

Emily’s like “How can I help you Aubrey?”

“In the spirit of Teacher Appreciation week, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. If you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet! I’d love to. Is Michael coming?”

Aubrey blinks. “No, I thought this could be just the two of us.”

“Oh. Well that’s kind of weird considering I’m his teacher and it’s for teacher appreciation week”

“It’s a date! A date. I’m asking you on a date”

“Oh. Ohhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Nevermind I shouldn’t have asked I just thought -”

“Aubrey, I’d love to go on a date with you tonight.”

[zoe-and-grace]

The Magic

I have an incredibly important secret I must tell you, one that very few in this world know. I’m trusting you with this, only you, so you cannot tell a soul. I once knew a little girl with magic. She truly had it, I’m telling you the honest to God truth! Don’t believe me? Fair enough. In this frightening world, it seems that magic cannot possibly exist. I’ve seen it though. I’ve seen it all.

           This little girl’s wondrous powers made the impossible into reality. She had the four elements at her complete disposal, whether she wanted to bring life giving water to a dominion, or unleash howling winds just to watch everything dance and quiver. She could build earthen fortresses with ease and keep voracious flames at bay with the force of her glare. Her affinity for water was the strongest. Sometimes she would wade into the ocean to swim with mer-people, twisting and twirling in joy. When she dove underwater, she became filled with indescribable serenity. She would make her home there for a while, encased in her turquoise haven, feeling beautiful and free.

Those eyes, they were powerful tools. The young girl also had the gift of painting, of creation. Before her, rapturous scenes would unfold, all at the behest of her cornflower blue eyes. With her breath of life, things that were often trapped in movies could now exist on her elementary school playground. She was quite fond of the adventures, with heroes, and danger, and wonder, and intrigue, and magic. The other kids couldn’t seem to see the little girl’s mystical talents. Sometimes they engaged in something of magical nature, she was sure they did, but they mostly pursued other strange activities. They played on the peripheries of her quests, hanging unaware from jungle gyms, energetically launching dodgeballs at each other, and screaming themselves hoarse. Eventually, the little girl found them—those with magic, or at least those who wanted to see it. She knew she couldn’t be the only one. With the addition of more diverse magic, her tales became even more vibrant, practically pulsing with energy. The colors became richer, the shapes gained more dimension, the sounds grew closer. Her heart was most at peace when others flitted about in their beautiful sorcery, running from the devious forces of evil intent on petrifying them all. But perhaps she created too well and her friends stayed permanently petrified, because most stopped coming to the playground field. She wondered if they had lost their skills.

She would always try to find those with the power. One was a boy named Gavin in the second grade. He was skinny and blond with a squeaky voice. When they created together, they became superheroes. They had any weapon imaginable at their disposal and adopted numerous personas to protect the world. They had a dark underground lair buried deep underneath the playground field, with miles of treacherous wilderness right outside. If the quests got rough, they would occasionally have to exercise their expert survival skills. However, you aren’t to mention Gavin to the little girl. He betrayed her and went to play soccer every recess. He never said it to her face, but all the people he played with afterwards were also boys. She suspected it was some sort of “girls have cooties” or “boys play with boys” garbage. She thought she could teach him magic again, but he abruptly moved to Hawaii.

There were a few others but they either had incompatible magic (there was a strange one who thought she was a cat, and that wasn’t the little girls style) or they lost interest. The little girl didn’t take it personally until a few other kids called her “weird”, “dorky” and “annoying.” It disheartened her greatly, and it appeared to coincide with a significant dampening of her magic. It was a horrifying experience. She had no trouble conjuring up the images of her stories and her natural powers, but she lacked the element that made them tangible. The little girl felt like a piece of herself was missing, and a piece of life. She tried to connect with the other kids and the adults, but was only vaguely successful with a select few. It eventually came to be that she was left in the field alone.

Shortly after her magic weakened, the clever little girl found a way to reignite it, a powerful spell called a book. These handy things were even more effective than her previous methods of animation. She could now be almost completely enveloped in faraway worlds, instantly transported into the magic. In no time at all, the girl leaped from Redwall to Warriors to Percy Jackson to Harry Potter and beyond. Every chance she could get was now spent in the library, or holed up with some book somewhere. The school librarian knew her by name, and the public librarian knew her by face and by the massive stack of books she hoisted onto the counter. The girl had managed to procure a library card, and now spent her afternoons riding her little purple bike down the street to the library with her mother’s Shakespeare tote hanging from her shoulders. She would disappear into the cramped juvenile section for hours, sitting on the floor and evaluating which books she wanted to explore next. Soon she found she had depleted the kid’s novel supply.

Somewhere between fifth and sixth grade, she emerged from the kid’s wing, looked both ways to see if anyone was watching, and creeped into the Teen’s section. At that point, she didn’t call it magic anymore. She no longer waved the garden hose around, calling herself a “water-witch.” She no longer swam with her mermaid doll, nor played “lost at sea” with her little sister. She barely stepped out on the playground anymore. She couldn’t even remember at which point imagination ceased to be synonymous with reality. The girl could now understand what others saw in her through her experiences while reading. If she detached from the world while reading, how disconnected must she have looked while playing superheroes? The girl still felt the pull to turn away from the present and slip into a state of unreality, but for many years she grappled with her imagination. Sometimes it enveloped her in comfort when she was disappointed, whispering what could have been. Simultaneously those prospects taunted her. Sometimes it would carry her away from her sadness, transforming her into someone better, braver, or prettier. Those images would then turn on her and make her mourn what could never be. The images could be her deepest desires and her strangest fantasies, and often they filled her with a magnificent desire to bound across oceans, dig her fingers into other soils and be one with the other. As the girl matured, her imagination had turned into its own beast, as if the magic from her childhood had spun out of control and manifested itself in ways she couldn’t comprehend, but delighted in.

I have an incredibly important secret I must tell you, one that very few in this world know of. I’m trusting you with this, only you, so you cannot tell a soul. There once was a young woman who was a prisoner of magic. She truly was, I’m telling you the honest to God truth! Don’t believe me? Fair enough. In this world governed by reason, it seems that magic cannot possibly exist. I’ve seen it though. I’ve seen it all.

One year the young woman fell apart. Her surroundings were changing more rapidly than she could handle, and her future seemed to be ominously looming over her shoulder, but that was on the periphery. The most concerning issue was the destruction of her mind. Everywhere she looked, she saw danger so everything she was became fear. If her petty paranoias from middle school had been a beast, then this new and horrible manifestation was a demon. It had possessed her so completely that she couldn’t tell where she began and the demon ended. Her fear spiraled out of control, taking charge of her body and her emotion. The place where the young woman had once retreated for safety was now a minefield.

Unfortunately, it only got worse. Rather than willfully stepping into the magic as she had done as a child, she was now sucked into a black tar pit of black magic. The things that were supposed to be confined to movies were now her reality. She couldn’t help but be consumed by the dreadful images that flashed before her cursed eyes and fleshed themselves out. In the mucky, soul sapping pit, she experienced the end of the world, over and over and over. She felt death creep up to her and breath its chill on her shoulder. It never touched her, but it seemed to love watching her shiver, gasping desperately for breath. The young woman despaired that her magic betrayed her so. She hated living every moment in that nightmarish otherworld, untethered and alone. She knew no one else could see the black magic. While being utterly alone disheartened her, she was only truly at peace when she reached out of the pit, clasped the hands of others, and pleaded for their warmth.

My secret isn’t a secret. There just aren’t many people who want to hear it. They refuse to see us, or validate our suffering. Escaping from the prison of my own mind was a long and laborious process. Sometimes I would feel as if I was taking three steps forward only to be dragged three miles backward. I felt the shame that my society had burdened me with, as if being in pain was my own fault. I felt as if I was solitary in that shame, and that no one could possibly help me. The secret is, we exist and we deserve to exist. The secret is, sometimes we fall apart. The secret is, we are never alone. It’s okay to desire strength. The strength of my own soul has gotten me through some rough patches. However, there are hands everywhere waiting to pull us into the light for a bit and help us heal. I promise, there is wonder everywhere, and you are still you, and I believe that you have the magic in you to take the hand, and hoist yourself up.

I have an incredible secret to tell you.  I’m trusting you with this, only you, so you cannot tell a soul. I never actually stopped being the little blonde girl with magic. I have had it all along, I’m telling you the honest to God truth! Don’t believe me? Fair enough. In this ugly world, it seems that magic cannot possibly survive. I’ve seen it though. I’ve seen it all.

The magic simply transformed.

[ahopkins1965]

Toggle navigation

Search

Browse

The Bible Toggle Dropdown

Search The Bible

Find it!

4 Reasons Skin Color Doesn't Matter to God (and it Shouldn't Matter to You)

Bible / Bible Study / Topical Studies / 4 Reasons Skin Color Doesn't Matter to God (and it Shouldn't Matter to You)

Kristen Terrette | Crosswalk.com Contributing Writer

Saturday, May 30, 2020

Share Tweet Save

The gospel of Jesus Christ is Good News for everyone. So Christians, those who've accepted Jesus' free gift of salvation, hold no preconceived notions about different groups of people. We're not judgmental, or racist, or prejudiced against people who look different. Right?

I challenge us to spend one day intentionally recognizing our first thought about every person we come across. When we pass those who don't look like us in a parking lot, car, or on an elevator, what thought pops into our heads? This small test will effectively point out where our prejudices are. I know, because it showed me mine. Without a doubt, I believed:

the Gospel was for all

and also that I wasn't a part of the problem with racial divides

But I was.

I fight predetermined perceptions every day, challenging labels I've placed on people without even knowing it. We all have them. Stereotypes and judgments based on appearance are everywhere and usually begin at a very young age because of our upbringing and environment.

I hope to do my part in stopping this in future generations, because God doesn't care about skin colors and here are four reasons why:

1. God never mentions a group's skin color in the Bible.

Yes, you read that right. Check it out for yourselves. People groups are identified by where they're from geographically, their language, or their family line, but never by the color of their skin. God never makes mistakes, so I can only assume this is intentional and strategic. He never wanted us to classify groups of people by the amount of pigmentation in their skin. We did that all on our own, even going so far as listing either black or white as options on standardized tests.

A person's complexion is only mentioned a few times, and even then these are cosmetic characteristics and do not indicate God's favoritism or cursing on them. An example is the term “ruddy” which is used to describe Esau, David, and Solomon. Ruddy is reddish in tone, meaning healthy, fresh, or clear in appearance, but it is also used to indicate the tanning of skin. In my opinion, this only lends more credibility to the idea that God doesn’t care about skin colors, because a tan appearance falls right in the middle of our human skin color ranges of very fair or white to very dark or black.

Solomon tells of his love, an individual, not a group, as being dark, and yet this refers to the darkening of skin that occurs from sun exposure, which happens to every type of skin pigmentation. “White” is used to describe someone with leprosy, and “bronze” is used to describe Jesus in the book of Revelation.

It’s embarrassing, really, that we've made a cosmetic feature, much like that of a powder or eye shadow, a dividing factor instead of looking to the Bible's example and not caring about this at all.

2. God loves diversity.

There are between 25,000 and 35,000 genes in every human cell and up to forty trillion cells in the human body! Somewhere between 100 to 378 genes are involved in the production of melanin—the pigment responsible for skin color. Even when we use the highest number, it is tiny compared to the amount of genes in every cell. And this same melanin also determines our hair and eye color. God, in His perfectness, put together a formula, so small it can only be realized under high efficiency microscopes, just to create variety in His prized creation. It was no accident He orchestrated us in such a way that every human is unique. He programmed the genes from which all our variations come within Adam and Eve, the first humans. This was what He wanted.

So all ethnic identities—every shade—highlights God’s desire for beauty in diversity. The light brown skin of the Native, Hispanic, Latino, or Middle Eastern cultures? Yes. The dark brown of North African cultures? Yes. The fair skinned Norwegian or Japanese cultures? Yes.

Every ethnicity is the beautiful handiwork of God’s creative mind. His abundance of creativity pushes beyond our human understanding. His very character is creative, so He cannot go against it. Diversity is God being His creative self, showing off to the world. A variety of skin colors gives Him glory for the vastness of His imagination! And we don’t have to look solely at humans to see evidence of this. Diversity is found in all of His creation. Trees. Flowers. Birds. Horses. Dogs. All glorify God. So variety, in skin color and all throughout the earth, should be celebrated.

3. We were created in God's image.

You know the verse. “So God created mankind is his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27

Everyone has an image. Social media is a relatively new way we display this to the world. If I want to be viewed as a devoted mother, I could show images of me making a homecooked meal, toting kids to various practices, or watching their extracurricular activities on Facebook. If I want to be depicted as a godly woman, I may share blog articles on my Savior, or post a pic on Twitter of me attending church. If I wanted to show off an image of wealth, I could post pictures of my expensive clothes and handbags, or the affluent resorts where I’d vacationed on Instagram. Now, these are random images we could attempt to project, but this concept has helped me understand this verse more accurately.

Mankind is made in the image of God. So what’s God’s image? We can go on and on about this, and I am no theologian, but I do know God is all loving, moral, creative, and reasonable. He has a perfect will, intellect, and emotions. He has authority and dominion over all. So if we reflect His image, then we, too, have these things at some level. Humans are able to love, make moral choices, think creatively, and use reason to evaluate decisions. We also have free will in deciding how we live. We are intelligent and have feelings. We also hold authority over the creatures and other living things on earth.

All people are given this capacity. Our skin color does not determine your ability to reflect God’s image. 2 Corinthians 3:18 says, “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” So as we mature, we’re to continue reflecting more and more of Christ’s image by the way we live, and our skin colors don’t limit this. No one is disqualified of this special blessing.

4. God includes all parts of the world in His salvation work.

“And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God[,] persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.” Revelation 5:9

This verse is a vision where the “elders” and “living creatures” bow down and sing praise to the slain and resurrected Lamb (Jesus). Does it amaze you, as it does me, the lengths at which He went to include all here? God could have simply said, persons from “everywhere.” But, no. He specifically uses ways we categorize people by referring to “every tribe and language and people and nation.” He wanted to cover all in His Kingdom work. No one is beyond His reach.

And there are many more verses where God includes all. Colossians 3:11 states, “Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.” And Romans 10:12 says, “For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile—the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’”

And notice what He leaves out. He does not categorize any of these groups by their skin color. Why? Because He loves every one the same. He made each beautiful and unique according to His infinite creative mind. As Christ-followers, we are called to be like Jesus, so we must work diligently to fight against labeling people by the color of their skin. Can you help to do your part while I work to do mine? Our following generations will be better for it if we do.

Photo Credit: ©Getty Images

Kristen Terrette cherishes her Southern roots and lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. She served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years, and with the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing Christian fiction and non-fiction. She's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. She also serves on the women's leadership team at her local church and writes for Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her novels and articles at www.kristenterrette.com.

Promoted Stories

Ads by Revcontent

Drink This, See Your Belly Fat Melt Insanely Throughout The Day

Usa Healthy News

Ohio Doctor "I Beg Americans To Throw Out This Vegetable Now"

Wellnessguide2020

Drink This Before Bed, Watch Your Body Fat Melt Like Crazy

Healthier Living Club

Early Signs of Bipolar Disorder May Surprise You

Bipolar | Sponsored Links

Lung Cancer Signs & Symptoms

Lung Cancer | Sponsored Links

Signs of Lung Cancer (May Leave You Surprised)

Cancer | Sponsored Links

Ringing Ears? When Tinnitus Won't Stop, Do This (Watch)

Patriot Health Zone

How Dogs Cry for Help: 3 Warning Signs Your Dogs is Crying for Help

Dr. Marty

Around The Web

Ads by Revcontent

Drink This Before Bed, Watch Your Body Fat Melt Like Crazy

Healthier Living Club

12x Better Than Solar Panels? Prepper's Invention Takes Country by Storm!

Easy Power Plan

Early Signs of Bipolar Disorder May Surprise You

Bipolar | Sponsored Links

I'm so thankful for my parents! - Inspirations

Drink This, See Your Belly Fat Melt Insanely Throughout The Day

Usa Healthy News

Load More

You may also like

10 Ways to Sabotage Your Marriage (Without Realizing It)

What 3 Things Did Jesus Pray For?

Will We Have Memories of Unsaved Family and Friends in Heaven?

Ads by Revcontent

Drink This Before Bed, Watch Your Body Fat Melt Like Crazy

Healthier Living Club

Featured Verse Topics

Healing Bible Verses

Worry and Anxiety Bible Verses

Prayer Bible Verses

Bible Verses for Overcoming Grief

Comforting Bible Verses

Bible Verses About Protection

God's Promises - Verses in the Bible

Bible Verses For Faith in Hard Times

Encouraging Bible Verses

Hope Bible Verses

Friendship Bible Verses

Forgiveness Bible Verses

Strength Bible Verses

Love Bible Verses

Inspirational Bible Verses

About Online Bible Sitemap Link to Us Advertise with Us Feedback

Proud member of Salem Media Group.

Copyright © 2020, Bible Study Tools. All rights reserved. Article Images Copyright © 2020 Getty Images unless otherwise indicated.

Do Not Sell My Info (CA only)

[emilyemcnabb]

Courtney and Scott’s Classic Charleston Wedding

Courtney and Scott’s gorgeous love story and stunning Charleston wedding are filled with serendipitous successes. The couple, who met when Scott sent a “Hail Mary” dating app message, flew out to Charleston the day before their venue hold expired to see their destination city first-hand, for the first time, and fell in love with it. Classic details defined the day, like Courtney’s show-stopping Pnina Tornai which was discovered at a last-minute dress shop appointment made after she was convinced she already knew a different dress was the one. Call it luck, call it destiny, it all came together beautifully with the help of The Petal Report who designed the event at The Gibbes Museum of Art with gorgeous florals by Pretty Petals of Charleston. Our friend  Clay Austin Photography was on hand to capture all the details of the day in these beautiful photos.

What made the wedding special and unique? 

It took us about 6 months to choose a location.  I wanted a European or tropical destination, and Scott, along with our families, wanted to stay local.  I probably looked at 60+ venues compiling folders of spreadsheets, PowerPoints, etc. One week in June, I finally realized my island dream was not going to work, and that Friday I received a call letting me know that a hold I had placed on a venue in Charleston months prior would be expiring the following Monday.  I called Scott and told him the news.  Having no idea I had even looked at Charleston (he had never been and I had been once when I was 17), you can imagine his confusion.  He called me back a few minutes later telling me “leave your office immediately. We cannot miss this flight!”.  About 3 hours later we were on a flight to Charleston, and after the first night there, we were officially in love with the city.

Tell us about the gown and where/how you found it!

I had gone to multiple dress appointments with crews of family and friends.  My mom was coming into the city to see a dress at a boutique in SoHo which I was ready to purchase.  I felt badly making her trek in to just see one dress, so I made a last-minute appointment to stop at Kleinfelds on the way down, however, I was sure that the other dress was THE ONE.  Our consultant came into our room toting a Pnina Tornai gown with a HUGE bow, and my mom and I instantly gave each other the same look of “you have to be kidding me”.  Overly girly/preppy was never my style, and after being forced to wear my trademark giant bows for the first ~8 years of my life, I avoided them at all costs.  When I put it on, we both were shocked.  It worked! The Suzanne Harward gown at the other store was entirely done in a heavy lace, and was extremely modern, trendy, and a bit risqué. This was the complete opposite – classically elegant.

The sample size was many sizes too big, and after our appointment I found a photo of the gown online showing the intended fit/style which was not at all what I had wanted.  However, after discussing with my consultant, we decided to order the gown a few sizes larger, and completely cut it apart, piecing it back together with the deep-v front and low, open back, ultimately creating a custom gown. I had them attach the bow so that I could remove it after the first dance, but the bow stayed on the entire night (even after it was dipped in chocolate from the mother of the groom’s birthday cake)!

My husband wanted my dress to be a total surprise, refusing to even be in the room when the topic was brought up. One day, after purchasing the Pnina gown, I asked his opinion on a few dresses I had bought for other events. He replied “you like that whole ‘deep-v’ thing don’t you…? I really am NOT a fan of that look”.  During the months following, every time we saw that “deep-v thing” on TV he would point it out with the same disgusted look and express his distaste (as you can imagine, this occurred multiple times a week throughout the season of The Bachelor).  It was an ongoing joke with my friends, family, and coworkers, and each time it came up it took everything in me to not burst out laughing and confess.  I was so grateful that we decided to do a first look so that I would not end up laughing the entire walk down the aisle.  Come the wedding day, he absolutely loved the dress (at least that’s the story he’s sticking to!).

What were some touches added to make the wedding personal? 

My mom’s childhood friends created amazing welcome bags personalized for each guest, and a custom logo which appeared everywhere throughout the weekend; the paper products and signage, water bottles, cocktail napkins, etc., and 5Church even had it done in white chocolate to top the desserts at the Welcome Party.

We had multiple days of events including cocktail parties on the terrace of my parent’s suite at the Bella Grace, a Welcome Dinner party at 5Church for all 180 guests, a post wedding brunch, and a beach day at Sullivan’s Island.  It was like being on a vacation with all of your family and friends – what could be better than that!

The lighting design is something that I came up with myself and was extremely risky given it was something that neither Cayleigh or IES had ever seen or done before.  They executed it perfectly, and it looked amazing during both the day and night! To this day we still get comments on it from guests.

The cocktail ring I wore belonged to my grandmother who is no longer with us.  It was something I had admired so much growing up. She gave it to me years ago, before she passed away, but my parents immediately took it to for safe-keeping, and I never saw it again.  For Christmas, they surprised me by having it resized and fixed up so that I could wear it at the wedding.  Not having seen it since the day she gave it to me, every time I looked down at it, I pictured it on her hand.  It made it feel as though she was there with me that day.

One of our good friends, and Scott’s “work husband”, officiated the ceremony.  He had never officiated before, and took his job very seriously, conducting multiple calls and meetings over drinks.  He did an amazing job!  The entire ceremony script was so personal and made guests both laugh and cry.

Cru Catering surprised the guests on the dance floor with late-night snacks of Chicago Dogs (in honor of a trip to Chicago Scott had surprised me with when we were dating), and Philly Cheesesteaks. Both were big hits!

My four-year-old nephew, Dylan, was our ring bearer, and was the last to walk down before me and my dad. As they were pushing him out the door, he turned back to me and yelled “Wait! Wait! Coco…… I like you!” with tears building in his eyes.  I had managed to hold back tears all day until that moment!

What was the most memorable part of the day? 

The last song played was “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey.  Both sets of parents, Scott and I all came together on the dancefloor with our arms around each other, and all of the guests formed a circle around us; everyone dancing and singing along at the top of our lungs!  There is a great picture of that – one of our favorites of the night.

In the Trolley on the way to the Gibbes, the driver played all the classic wedding songs, and my bridesmaids, my mom, and I were all singing and dancing the entire ride. Everyone on the streets was staring!

Scott: When Courtney was at the end of the aisle, and everyone stood and turned, and the musicians began playing “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis.

Tell us how you met and became engaged.

We met on a dating app – a “modern-day romance story”.  Scott had never been on a dating app date, and I never responded to messages – just liked to play the swipe game.  He had messaged me and didn’t get a response.  A couple of weeks later, after a date with someone I had known during college but hadn’t seen in years, I got home I opened the app to see a message from Scott saying that he thought he saw me crossing Park Ave around 5pm (he calls it his Hail Mary message). Realizing that it was likely me (my office is on Park Ave and I had left for my date around that time), the combination of the humor of coincidence and the cocktails from the earlier date brought me to actually reply to a dating app message.  A few days later we had our first date, and we texted the entire cab ride home and for hours into the night.  We actually named one of the signature cocktails at the Welcome Party “The Hinge” as an ode to where it all started!

I’m absolutely obsessed with all things Christmas. We even have two Christmas trees in our apartment – one big, formal tree, and a small tree with all the ornaments we’ve collected from our trips together.  We always celebrate our own “Christmas Day” the weekend before Christmas; just the two of us.  On the year we got engaged I texted Scott two days before our Christmas Day, letting him know that I had decided to take that day off.  Little did I know, that news would put a huge fork in his elaborate plan.  Panicked, he texted my best friend, Beckett, telling her she had to do whatever it would take to keep me out of the apartment that afternoon. The two of them came up with a plan of pretending one of her clients arranged for the Glam Squad to come to her apartment to do hair and nails for her and a coworker before their company Holiday Party that evening, and that her coworker canceled last minute. After getting home, we opened all of our gifts from unde the tree, and Scott told me to go check out the NYC ornament he had picked up for our small tree. I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to pick out an NYC ornament without me.  I saw a shiny silver ornament that read “I’ve been meaning to ask you this…”, slowly turning it around, I read the other side: “Will you marry me?”.  I jolted around in tears to see him on one knee behind me.  After, he told me I only had time to quickly call my mom because of our dinner reservations his boss had made for us, and that we would call everyone else after dinner.  He asked the cab to drop us off a few blocks away from the restaurant, and said that we actually had time for a quick drink, and suggested we stop into the wine bar/restaurant on the corner.  When we walked in, I immediately saw my mom and dad and burst into tears, again. Then I looked around the room and realized the entire place was filled with our families and close friends.  We celebrated until the early morning hours! I couldn’t have drawn up a better proposal and night if I tried.

Coordinator & Designer: The Petal Report // Photographer: Clay Austin Photography // Floral Design: Pretty Petals of Charleston // Wedding Venue: The Gibbes Museum of Art // Bridal Gown Designer: Pnina Tornai // Makeup Artist: Makeup By Dannon // Hair Stylist: Wild Ivory Beauty // Wedding Cake: ABCD // Catering & Bar: Cru Catering // Tent, Dance floor & Stage Rental: Skyline Tent Company // Rentals: Snyder Events // Rentals: Ooh! Events // Entertainment: Emerald Empire Band // Lighting: Innovative Event Services // Guest Transportation: ACW Limo

  The post Courtney and Scott’s Classic Charleston Wedding appeared first on Grey Likes Weddings | Wedding Fashion & Inspiration | Best Wedding Blog.

[innainkorea]

Welcome to Korea!

Hello friends! I apologize for the social media radio silence. I had every intention of making ‘daily’ posts, but we have been SO busy.

*Please forgive me* 

Here is a a brief synopsis of what I’ve been up to:

Wow! I can’t believe I am actually in Seoul. Sitting in bed, with Thao & Caeli, eating macarons and watching Boys Over Flowers. Life is so good right now.

We have been in South Korea for a full week. They aren’t kidding when they say time flies when you’re having fun! Our travels from Indianapolis went smoothly. After a couple of hours in Toronto on layover, we were off on our merry way to Incheon International Airport. The plane felt spacious and was fairly comfortable, especially for economy class. I watched movies and TV shows to entertain myself, but I also found myself looking out the window a lot. We flew over northern Canada & Alaska for a long time and the landscape was breathtaking. We could see vast mountain ranges capped with snow, emerald forests, and even massive river networks frozen over with ice. That in itself was a cool experience and a humbling reminder of just how much of this big, beautiful planet I have still yet to see. I also have never been so well fed on a flight before; 3 meals, constant beverage service, and snacks at your beck & call. I definitely recommend Air Canada for your air travel needs. 

Inna’s Travel Tip #001: Neck pillows are you (& your butt’s) best friend! Making sure to reposition yourself at least every 2 hours to avoid painful pressure spots will make a huge difference during your in-flight experience.

For those of you who didn’t already know I have been given the amazing opportunity to study abroad in Seoul this summer! For the next two weeks, I will be participating in a number of educational experiences with the goal of learning about health care and behavioral health care in a global context. I was also appointed as one of IUPUI’s newest #GlobalJags, by the Office of Study Abroad. This blog will be home to a personal travel journal I’ll be using to chronicle my time here. I’m so excited to share my thoughts and photos with you all! Stay tuned for daily(-ish) posts and please send me ALL & ANY questions/requests :)

Inna Ayos, IUPUI Office of Study Abroad Social Media Ambassador

DAY 1 [5/22/17]:

This is our first official program day in Seoul, and we have a full schedule ahead of us! Thao & I started our morning in the hotel room with a plate full of fluffy scrambled eggs and mini cheese hot dogs. This set the precedent for what I knew could only a fantastic spent afternoon at Ewha Womans University.

For lunch, we were honored with a welcome luncheon hosted by Ewha’s President of International Affairs. They shared information about Ewha’s many opportunities available to international students, both men & women. They were so incredibly kind to us and enthusiastic about our arrival. We all left our meeting with full bellies and a cool new tote bag & reusable water bottle.

Lunch Menu: bulgogi (beef), rice, & banchan (Korean side dishes) It was so good, I could’ve cried.

The next activity on our schedule was a campus tour. This was our chance to get a feel for what Ewha’s campus was like and learn more about the historical significance of the university. So you may have noticed that the school is called Ewha Womans University. Is that a grammatical error you wonder? It is not. The spelling was chosen with purpose. While the university of course wants to encourage women as a group to innovate and take on the world, it’s a reminder that the mission has always been to help each individual woman to achieve her goals and reach her fullest potential.

Ewha was originally founded by Christian missionaries from the United States and still continues to teach it’s students the same original three cardinal virtues: truth, goodness, and beauty. Students are also required to take a chapel class, that isn’t necessarily a catechism class (everyone is free to practice & study whatever doctrine they please), but merely a chance for students to learn more about how they can apply the three cardinal virtues to themselves and the work they’re doing. It was so moving to learn about Ewha’s origins. The school started with the tenacity of 1 teacher and 1 student, and to see it’s growth to it’s size today is impressive and awe-inspiring. Female leaders who will lead us to a better tomorrow are being educated within their hallowed halls, including one of our instructors, Ewha alum Dr. Michin Hong.

We also had the awesome opportunity to attend a lecture by Professor Sophia (can’t remember her last name oopsies) who leads an english-taught social welfare course. Today’s topic was about the effects of an aging population on a society. We learned that as the world population continues to grow, and with people now living longer pretty much everywhere, our elderly population is also booming and with that will eventually outnumber their younger counterparts in the near future. What this means is that the need for elder care is going to increase as well, and as our society stands now, we may be ill-equipped to meet that demand because there is simply not enough younger people who are willing to take on these care positions. 

After the lecture portion, we were broken down further into groups to discuss what stigmas exist against older adults. Our group talked a lot about how there are many different perceptions that exist. Some people think of the elderly as grumpy, “out of touch”, and anti-progressive. Others think of them as wise and as key-players in leading the young. We found that it really depended on the individual and in what context you interacted with them. I brought up Erikson’s Stages of Development in our discussion. Now that I think back to it, I’m not sure I explained it in the best way, because I couldn't remember some of the specific verbiage off the top of my head. But I do believe I was able to give them a good general idea of how to interpret it. Essentially, at each stage of life, every person faces a specific psychosocial dilemma. And depending on what they’ve been able to accomplish developmentally until that point determines what stage they're in. For older adults, 55-65+, they either have “integrity” or “despair”. The adult has achieved “integrity” if they feel contentment having led a full  & meaningful life, perhaps leaving a lasting and important effect on the world they will eventually leave behind. For those who may harbor regrets in their life’s directions or the decisions they have made, “despair” is more evident. I thought this could potentially explain why there is such a dichotomy in the perception of our elderly counterparts. It was overall a very stimulation discussion and I enjoyed getting to know a small group of Ewha students. One cool thing about this class was there a lot of international students, from all over the world. There was a girl from the states and another from the Ukraine in my group. This added to the diversity of perspectives in our conversation, which I really enjoyed. 

Overall, it was a really long first day, but a strong & impactful start. I cannot say enough how enthused I am to have already learned so much in such a short amount of time. But I still have a TON of stuff to share with you all!!

I will continue to post about all that we’ve been up to, but it’s going to come in more sporadic bursts than I had previously anticipated. So keep an eye out for more blurbs & pictures!

Inna xx

PS I also wanted to take this time to say thank you again to all of you who supported me to make this happen. I quite literally could not have done it without your love & care of me. I am eternally grateful <3 

[ivan-smells]

wrote this in memory of my aunt

The Oasis

“Hurry and pick already!” Bonnie exclaimed, pushing me to the side to peer up at the endless wall of nail colors, “You’re blocking me!” At an underwhelming three feet tall, I doubted she could see them anyway, but I obliged. My younger sister was a firecracker contained in a third grader, and, had I protested, I would have caused an explosion. Besides, I didn’t want to spoil this day. Today was brimming with opportunities and anticipation: today was a new experience for the both of us.

Spontaneously, my aunt had arrived at my house in the morning to collect us. My aunt Deidre, or DeeDee for short, was a six foot tall redhead who captured attention everywhere she went. Her personality was crass: as a chain-smoking, gun-toting, beer-drinking Texan, she was hard to ignore. I didn’t see her often, but when she came over, my favorite thing to do was to sit and listen to her tell stories. She was animated when she talked, violently waving her hands and gesturing around to include her captivated audience. Her long, red nails pointed toward the people featured in her stories - my mother was often a character in her tales. She would point at my mother and say, “You wouldn’t believe it, but Donna really was my best friend growing up!” This statement was often followed by stories of their adventures. She was one of the few people in my life that I’d seen make my mother laugh uncontrollably, and I wanted nothing more than to imitate and become the kind of person who could make a mountain (like my mother) move. Today, she was impatient, gesturing for us to leave the house. “Y’all come with me,” she beckoned, standing in the hallway to avoid entering the house completely, “we’re gonna get out of here!”

It was a welcome change. My mother was a presence in my household, a dark shadow, a ghost. Since the death of her father, the light in her eyes hollowed. Her shell occupied the brown-leather living room couch, watching and re-watching John Wayne movies deep into the night. Her sleeping decreased though her sleeping pills spiked, and I rarely saw her smile. Her smiles were replaced by whispers, darting eyes, and pacing through the halls. At this point in my mother’s depression, I hadn’t truly spoken to her in weeks. Even as DeeDee greeted her that morning, she hardly managed a hello, just nodding her approval for us to leave. My mother leaned and planted a sticky, lip-glossed kiss on our cheeks and retreated, leaving behind a stench of stale alcohol. The house was heavy with her.

“I picked the purple,” Bonnie boasted, “but not just the regular old purple, this one has glitter!” She was amazed at the polishes at her disposal, but I was mostly just glad to be here. The nail salon smelled fresh, unlike our home, which reeked of decay and dog feces. The nail technicians were sweet and attentive, which was a stark contrast to the spectre that loomed in our hallways. I felt a freedom in our adventure. My mother once was adventurous too: traveling to Europe, exploring national parks, and telling stories. However, now it was rare for her to leave the house, and we, by extension, were also prisoners. My aunt DeeDee was yammering on to the nail techs, explaining that we were having a “Girl’s Day,” bragging about our schoolwork, even complimenting our choices in colors (“They’re experts in fashion I swear!”). She was a vision: red coiffed hair, long delicate nails, sparkling eyes. I was reminded of how my mother used to be - after all, they were related, so how was one so full of life, and the other so empty?

To my astonishment, the day did not end at the nail salon. We were whisked away on the spiraling, gray Houston highways toward a carnival. I balked at the prices of ride tickets, much less unlimited wristbands. “It’s all on me,” she said to me as we shuffled through the line. She read my mind, as she always seemed to do: I, unlike my oblivious younger sister, understood the implications of money (I had been reminded one too many times as my mother explained to me that she couldn’t afford running water). I stiffened and turned to her, and in her eyes I saw someone who was willing to lift weight off of me. I didn’t know what to say back, so I held my arm out for a wristband and avoided eye contact.

At the age of twenty-one, I make eye contact far more often. At that time in the fifth grade, I was shying away from people while shuffling responsibilities that I didn’t know how to carry (I barely know now). I was ten or eleven when I wandered the carnival with freshly-painted, electric blue nails. I was fourteen when I was taken from my mother and placed into the foster care system, a blow that, while sad, was mostly liberating. I pictured my life from that moment forward being just like that day at the carnival: clean, fresh, and open. My aunt was a large part of that picture. To me, she represented the woman I wanted to become. All of her traits, even the less-than-likeable ones, I aspired toward. She was so much like my mother, except this version of my mother was loving and alive and welcoming. I went into foster care believing that she was who I was destined to emulate. Less than two years later, I was notified that DeeDee had committed suicide due to severe alcoholism, depression, and drug abuse - the same issues that my mother endlessly faced. I was derailed completely. Could anyone be happy? Was there really hope at all? Looking back now, though, DeeDee was a lesson for me: while I so harshly compared my mother to DeeDee, I failed to recognize that everyone has both light and darkness within themselves. I cannot aspire to be happy: “happy” is not an identity. Instead, happiness is the other side of a war zone, rockets ricocheting, guns smoking, casualties everywhere. The bodies of the bruised, wounded, and dead are all around, and I am in the middle of it all, wondering if I can get to the other side. We plot our course, we strategize, but in the end, we are all just children running for safety.