#National Defense University Graduation Moment.

[metamorphesque]

Monte Melqonyan/Մոնթե Մելքոնյան (1957-1993)

Honestly, I don't even know where to begin. He's one of those extraordinary individuals about whom countless books could be written and numerous movies could be made, yet still, so much would remain untold. You might wonder, "He's a National Armenian Hero—cool, but why should I know about him?" My answer is simple: if the world had more people like him, especially in today's times, it would be a much better place. He fought for justice, embodied culture and education, and radiated a deep love for his people and humanity as a whole. I believe everyone should aspire to have a little bit of Monte's spirit within them, regardless of their nationality.

Now, it's important to note that some things written about him in the Western press can be questionable and inaccurate. So, I would advise taking most of the information from those sources with a grain of salt.

Monte was born on November 25, 1957, into an Armenian family in Visalia, California, that had survived the Armenian Genocide. From 1969 to 1970, his family traveled through Western Armenia, the birthplace of his ancestors. During this journey, Monte, at the age of twelve, began to realize his Armenian identity. While taking Spanish language courses in Spain, his teacher had posed him the question of where he was from. Dissatisfied with Melkonian's answer of "California", the teacher rephrased the question by asking "where did your ancestors come from?" His brother Markar Melqonyan remarked that "her image of us was not at all like our image of ourselves. She did not view us as the Americans we had always assumed we were." From this moment on, for days and months to come, Markar continues, "Monte pondered [their teacher Señorita] Blanca's question Where are you from?"

In high school, he excelled academically and struggled to find new challenges. Instead of graduating early, as suggested by his principal, Monte found an alternative - a study abroad program in East Asia. The decision to go to Japan was not random. He had been attending karate clubs and was the champion of the under-14 category in California. He also studied Japanese culture, including taking Japanese language courses. After completing his studies at a school in Osaka, Japan, he went to South Korea, where he studied under a Buddhist monk. He later traveled to Vietnam, witnessing the war and taking numerous photographs of the conflict. Upon returning to America, he had become proficient in Japanese and karate.

Having graduated from high school, Monte entered the University of California, Berkeley, with a Regents Scholarship, majoring in ancient Asian history and archaeology. In 1978, he helped organize an exhibition of Armenian cultural artifacts at one of the university's libraries. A section of the exhibit dealing with the Armenian Genocide was removed by university authorities at the request of the Turkish consul general in San Francisco, but it was eventually reinstalled following a campus protest movement. Monte completed his undergraduate work in under three years. During his time at the university, he founded the "Armenian Students' Union" and organized an exhibition dedicated to the Armenian Genocide in the late 19th and early 20th centuries in the Ottoman Empire and the Republic of Turkey.

Upon graduating, he was accepted into the archaeology graduate program at the University of Oxford. However, Monte chose to forgo this opportunity and instead began his lifelong struggle for the Armenian Cause.

In the fall of 1978, Monte went to Iran and participated in demonstrations against the Shah. Later that year, he traveled to Lebanon, where the civil war was at its peak. In Beirut, he participated in the defense of the Armenian community. Here, he learned Arabic and, by the age of 22, was fluent in Armenian, English, French, Spanish, Italian, Turkish, Persian, Japanese, and Kurdish.

From 1980, Monte joined the Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia (ASALA – I promise to tell you more about them later) and quickly became one of its leaders. In 1981, he participated in the planning of the famous Van operation. In 1981, he was arrested at Orly Airport in France for carrying a false passport and a pistol. During his trial, Monte declared, "All Armenians carry false passports—French, American—they will remain false as long as they are not Armenian." Over the following years, he perfected his military skills at an ASALA training camp, eventually becoming one of the group's principal instructors.

Monte with his wife Seda

After being released from a French prison (once again) in 1989, Monte arrived in Armenia in 1991, where armed clashes between Armenians and azerbaijanis had already begun. He founded the "Patriots" unit and spent seven months in Yerevan working at the Academy of Sciences, writing and publishing the book "Armenia and its Neighbors." In September of the same year, he went to the Republic of Artsakh to fight for his fatherland and its people. Due to his military expertise, he was appointed Chief of Staff of the Martuni defense district in 1992. His sincerity and purity quickly won the love and respect of the local population and the Armenian community as a whole.

Throughout his conscious life, Monte fought for the rights of Armenians, recognition of the Armenian Genocide, and the reclamation of Armenian homeland.

There are various versions of Monte Melqonyan's death circulating in both Armenian and azerbaijani media. According to official Armenian information, Monte was killed on June 12, 1993, by fire from an azerbaijani armored vehicle.

Monte remains a lasting testament to the incredible potential unleashed when the Armenian patriotic heart unites with sharp intellect.

In case you'd like to put a voice to the face and hear about the Artsakh struggle directly from Monte, here he is speaking about it in English.

[halfagonyandhope]

ignite the stars │ch. 16

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

Ventress is the following week’s featured speaker at the weekly seminar, and Satine gets to the lecture hall early so she can have her pick of seats. She joins Vos in the front row, placing her sweater over the seat beside her to reserve it for Ben, who is still at office hours.

“Hey, Satine,” says Vos with a grin. “How’s the book coming along?”

Satine waves at Ventress, who is loading her slides onto the presentation screen. Ventress nods in acknowledgement.

“Outline is complete, and it’s been approved by the publisher,” says Satine. “Which is a massive relief. And I’ve got solid first drafts of the first few chapters. I’m pretty much where I need to be in terms of the grant deliverables.”

“Kudos,” says Vos. “I mean, good for you, but I’d fucking hate to write a book. Sounds miserable.”

Satine laughs. “Sometimes I feel that way, too.” She nudges his shoulder. “Hey, I heard your master’s student scheduled her thesis defense. Does she want folks to attend the public portion to support her? Or would that make her nervous?”

“Aayla would eat up the attention,” says Vos. “So plan to be there.”

“Email me the details?”

“You got it, boss.”

Satine smiles. “Is she planning on sticking around to do her doctorate here?”

“I hope so,” says Vos. “But she applied to a bunch of programs, and she’s gotten some great offers of funding. She’s still weighing everything.”

“I bet you’re proud of her,” says Satine. “And you should be proud of yourself, too. Her success speaks to your skill as an advisor.” 

She thinks she sees him blush. “Nah,” he says. “I had nothing to do with her accomplishments. She could have done it all without me.”

Ben joins them at that moment, brushing a kiss to Satine’s temple. Satine moves her sweater so he can sit beside her. “I’ve been looking forward to hearing about Ventress’ recent work,” he says. “That’s what she’s presenting today, right, Quinlan? Her fieldwork from last summer?”

Vos nods. He opens his mouth to respond, but Dooku Serenno has already risen to his feet, stepping to the center of the lecture hall.

As usual, he begins his introduction.

Satine leans forward. She’s also eager to learn more about Ventress’ work. Though she’d done a deep dive into Ben’s research, she hasn’t had time to investigate her friend’s background as much, and she realizes this is something she must rectify.

Ventress, it turns out, had received one of the prestigious Fulbright awards to complete a portion of her dissertation research in Canada as part of her graduate studies. She’d spent her Fulbright year living amongst First Nations groups in the Arctic, and she’d received another impressive grant to fund a year with an Alaska Native tribe.

Even Serenno’s drawl can’t make Ventress’ life unimpressive.

Eventually, he returns to his seat, ceding the floor to Ventress, and the audience quietly applauds. Ventress doesn’t thank Serenno for the introduction, and Satine smiles to herself at this.

Satine quickly realizes that Ventress is the most effective public speaker in the department, and it doesn’t even take a complete sentence.

“A recent survey of Native youth found that sixty percent of respondents knew an Indigenous person who had gone missing or been murdered,” begins Ventress. “Such violence against Native people in the lands that are currently called the United States - the land that Indigenous people know as Turtle Island - is commonplace, so much so that we’ve labeled this epidemic as the Missing and Murdered Indigenous People crisis.”

She looks out over the audience, pausing.

“If this is a novel statistic to you, you are part of the problem,” says Ventress, flipping to her next slide. “Stanton described first eight, later expanded to ten, total stages of the process of genocide. The final stage - the final phase of genocide - is denial. This includes when past or ongoing genocides are forgotten, or never taught in the first place.”

Satine feels seen.

How many times has she had to explain to American colleagues what happened in Bosnia? How many times has she had to watch their confused or disbelieving faces as she cuts herself open, before she’s had a chance to heal, to explain what had happened in her country? How many times must she hear I had no idea from colleagues who should be smart enough to know basic international history?

Ventress meets her gaze. She nods at Ventress, who gives an almost imperceptible nod back.

“In the United States,” Ventress continues, “there are five hundred and seventy-four federally-recognized tribes. Others are state-recognized, and others still don’t have recognition at all. That means that the United States has committed genocide at least 574 times. In many cases, that genocide continues.”

She moves to the next slide, moving across the raised platform, from one side of the lectern to the other.

“In Canada, a several-hundred page report published five years ago acknowledged that the federal government had committed genocide and was continuing to commit genocide against its Indigenous peoples. The report included recommendations for reconciliation, but most of those recommendations were ignored.”

As Ventress pauses for a moment, it’s so quiet in the lecture hall that Satine can hear a colleague behind her taking notes.

“Genocide, of course, is not the focus of my research. But I bring this up to provide context. Beyond the structural violence that Indigenous peoples on Turtle Island face, there is significant physical and direct violence that we must survive every day. And for many of us, it is about merely surviving. This is often not a life in which Indigenous people can thrive.” She transitions to the next slide. “My work focuses on predicting locations of violence against Indigenous peoples so that each tribal community or village can protect itself, its people, and its sovereignty. I map so-called ‘man camps’ - transient camps of mostly male contract workers, building infrastructure like pipelines in rural locations. These man camps are associated with increased violence against Indigenous people, and Indigenous women in particular.”

Over the course of the next hour, Ventress details her methods and showcases the maps she’s created. Satine isn’t an expert in GIS - geographic information systems - by any means, but Ventress’ work is clearly, beyond any shadow of a doubt, exceptional. The content is triggering and hard for Satine to listen to, but Satine doesn’t for a moment think to leave.

Satine knows she’s a guest on these lands. This is the least she can do to honor the original caretakers.

It seems like she blinks and the lecture is over, with another round of applause. Satine remains seated as her companions rise to leave, and Ben glances her way, his expression telling her he knows the lecture must have been a difficult one for her to hear.

“Go on,” says Satine. “I’ll meet you in your office.”

He nods, and he and Vos follow the others up the stairs and out the door of the lecture hall. Satine stands and steps up to the lectern.

“Your talk was excellent,” Satine begins, and Ventress looks at her as she logs out of the computer. “It made me very grateful you decided to befriend me instead of declare me your enemy the day I arrived. The latter probably would have been easier to do, especially since our fields overlap slightly.”

Ventress grins at this. “I don’t start fights,” she says. “I only end them.”

Satine laughs deeply.

Ventress tucks her thumb drive into her pocket. “Listen, Satine,” she begins. “There’s an Indigenous artist market being held at the National Museum of the American Indian over Spring Break. Want to check it out?”

“I’d like that,” says Satine, nodding, and she follows Asajj up the stairs.

---

The next week moves too quickly for Satine’s liking. She blinks and Spring Break has arrived, and Ben has boarded a plane out of the District.

She’s proud of him for facing his grief. But she’s also not particularly looking forward to the time apart. They’ve been alternating spending the night at each other’s places, taking a load of things from her place to his every time they head to Old Town so that the eventual move is less overwhelming. She’s taken over a section of his closet and half of his dresser. She has a phone charger on her side of his bed.

So, naturally, her bed feels empty without him beside her.

Satine rolls over in the dark. Before Ben had left for the Metro to take him to the airport, he’d kissed her deeply and pressed a small metal object into her palm.

Taken aback, Satine had examined the key.

“The place will be half yours in two months,” Ben had reminded her. “So my spare key really isn’t all that much of a spare now, is it?”

“You just want someone to water your plants while you’re gone,” she’d quipped, and she held onto the way he laughed like it was a lifeline.

Now, Satine throws back the covers and stands, making her way over to her desk, where she grabs the sweater she’d stolen from him the night he’d first held her, the first time she’d cried in front of him in years. She slips it over her head and pads back to bed.

The smell of him is faint, but it’s still there. Pulling the duvet back over her, she succumbs to sleep.

---

On Monday afternoon, Satine takes two buses toward Capitol Hill. She’s finally put away her peacoat for the season, switching to a navy trench coat. The District seems to support this decision - peak cherry blossoms line the sides of the bus route, welcoming spring at last. Satine pulls the stop request cord, thanks the driver, and jumps off the bus outside of the museum on the National Mall.

The uniqueness of the National Museum of the American Indian's profile is immediately apparent, and the buff- and golden-colored limestone reminds Satine of natural rock, which she’s sure is intentional. Her eyes follow the lines of the building as they curve into themselves, reminiscent of waves or perhaps wind. Her first thought is that the building looks peaceful.

She breathes out.

The next moment, she spots Asajj, who is sitting on one of the stone benches outside, partially hidden by the beginnings of wetland plants commencing their spring growth. Satine realizes that the gardens, too, must have been planted with deliberate care, each species chosen for specific reason.

Asajj, of course, notices her before she approaches. She stands as Satine nears her.

“Should have figured you’d prefer to wait outside,” says Satine. “You can take the arctic out of the girl but…”

Asajj chuckles. “High fifties is practically tropic for me, even if it’s still brisk for others.” They begin to walk toward the entrance. “But for you, as well, as I understand it?”

Satine holds the first door open for Asajj, and Asajj holds the next one for her. “True,” acknowledges Satine. “Norway would have kicked me out if I complained about the cold,” she says with a laugh.

They open their bags for security and proceed through the metal detectors, and Satine steps to the side to take in the interior of the museum. To the left is the information desk, and everything in front of them is wide open space, a multi-purpose area that Satine guesses is often used for performances or lectures. Today, it’s filled with artist booths. Though the market doesn’t start for another half hour, the area is already bustling as the artists finish setting up. 

Beyond the market is a massive set of stairs leading to different levels of the museum, each floor with various exhibits.

Asajj glances at Satine. “Want to get food first?”

“You read my mind,” says Satine, and they wander to the museum’s cafe. Mitsitam Cafe, Satine knows, is famous for using ingredients indigenous to the Americas. Satine orders a manoomin - wild rice - dish and sits with Asajj as they wait for their food.

Asajj suddenly looks at her. “Do you ever find yourself wanting to go back?” she asks. Her voice is soft but sure. “To Bosnia, that is. Not to Norway.”

Satine shrugs. “Yes, and no. Sometimes I think I do. But I think ultimately what I want is to go back to an idea that doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe it never existed.”

Asajj nods. “Before…”

“Yes,” says Satine. “Before the fighting. An idealized version of what I left.”

Asajj breathes out. “I never knew that version of my village,” she says. “But I heard about it. The Elders…some of them had parents or grandparents who had known it. Who had seen it. I wish I had.” She breathes in. “So I understand. It’s why I don’t go back, I think. I mourn what I never got to see.”

Their food is set before them, and they thank the server.

Satine takes her first bite of wild rice. “Maybe,” she says. “Maybe the work you’re doing will allow future generations to see it.”

Asajj looks off into the distance. “Perhaps,” she says. “If so, it would be worth it.”

---

The next morning, Satine goes to her usual spot in the library. Campus is empty, with most of the undergraduates and graduate students - and the faculty, for that matter - off on Spring Break. It’s a nice change of pace, though she admits to missing the chaos of a busy semester. It’s easier to get lost in.

Satine sets her jacket on the back of her chair and drops her bag at the work station, heading to the stacks in search of a text. When she gets to the call number, she frowns.

The book isn’t there, even though the online database had indicated it hadn’t currently been checked out.

“Looking for this?”

Satine feels her heart stop for a beat. She turns to face Derren Malek, who is holding up the book she’d been searching for in his tattoo-clad hand.

Satine doesn’t move.

The corner of Malek’s mouth turns up. “It’s been difficult trying to find you on your own since we last talked,” he says. “Your friends seem to have set up a system. Thought I’d take advantage of there being literally no one else in the library today.”

Satine swallows. “How closely have you been watching me?”

He’d known exactly where to find her. Had he followed her to this spot before? Had the presence of students been the only thing not stopping him from approaching her then? 

She curses herself, realizing her phone is back at the desk.

“Close enough,” says Malek. “Curious, isn’t it? You’ve had the undivided attention of two men this semester. Kenobi, of course, and myself. A madness shared by two, indeed.”

Satine clenches her jaw. Her thoughts drift to her and Ben’s conversation, back when he’s proposed their thought experiment.

“This is madness, though, you know,” she says.

“Folie à deux,” says Ben. “A madness shared by two.”

With a growing horror, she remembers the way the floorboards had creaked behind them.

“You were there,” says Satine. “That day.”

“The Secretary said you were smart,” says Malek. “I’ve come to have my doubts, however, considering how absolutely idiotic you’ve been when it comes to Kenobi.”

He steps toward her.

“Not that he’s been any smarter about you,” says Malek. “The Secretary has all the evidence he needs.”

Satine steps back.

“You’ve been recording us.”

“You made it easy.” He laughs. “The Secretary knew of your first weakness: your research. You’d do anything to protect it, and, thus, to protect your reputation to ensure your work can continue. But now we have an insurance policy. Because, as it turns out, the formidable Satine Kryze has not only one weakness but two. And the second happens to be Ben Kenobi.”

“Leave him out of this.”

“But you’ve brought him in! And that’s on you.”

Satine reaches out to steady herself against the stack of books beside her. “What do you want?” she hisses.

“To remind you,” says Malek. “You’re toeing the line. Accepting the invitation to speak in Paris in September puts you in a position to cross it. Depending on the contents of that speech.”

Satine glares at him. “The Secretary wants to see the speech before I give it.”

Malek laughs again. “Stupid girl. He wants to write the speech you will give.”

Satine shakes her head before thinking about it. “When hell freezes over.”

Malek reaches out to grab her elbow, gripping her tightly. Satine has to force herself to not gasp at the pain.

“Your career is not the only one at stake now,” Malek says. “You’re conspiring with Kenobi, a conspiracy that involves an arranged marriage while you’re applying for citizenship. I can’t imagine that’s something that USCIS will take kindly to hearing. Beyond the knock to Kenobi's academic reputation, that could doom him to an avalanche of legal troubles.”

He pulls her closer so that her body is flush against his, forcing the book into her hand.

“Toe the line, Ms. Kryze,” he hisses. “Your first step will be to ensure that Kenobi discerns nothing of this conversation. The second will be giving that speech in September exactly as the Secretary has prepared it.”

Ben’s name from his lips lights the fire that sparks the match, and Satine remembers her first few self-defense trainings. She considers what Ben, Asajj, and Quinlan have taught her.

Use what you have available.

Well, right now, what she has available is twofold: the element of surprise, and the book she’s holding with a death grip.

So Satine pushes the book upward with all her might, feeling it collide with Malek’s face and hearing the telltale sound of delicate bones crunching. She jumps back and races toward the staircase, grabbing her bag and stuffing her jacket and the book - now bloodied - inside while never breaking stride. Once she’s out of the library, she runs to the nearest bus stop and joins the line boarding the bus that has just arrived, checking over her shoulder to make sure Malek hasn’t followed her. She holds her bag to her chest as she finds a seat, trying to figure out where she's headed.

Mercifully, the route takes her toward her home, and Satine jumps off the bus only a few blocks away. Still checking behind her, she speed-walks to her condo.

She holds her composure until she's inside, shutting the door behind her and bolting the lock. 

Then Satine doubles over, wincing, finally letting herself vocalize her discomfort. But instead of picking herself up, she sinks to the floor, breathing heavily, dropping her bag to the ground.

Then she dials 911.

The dispatcher assures her a uniformed Georgetown University police officer is on their way and will arrive at her home within minutes. But as soon as Satine hangs up, doubt begins to seep in, and she hesitates.

Should she have made that call? Would it have been better not to report it?

She hesitates. The force with which Malek had gripped her elbow would no doubt leave bruises. It was technically assault, and she’d been justified in her response, knowing that it was possible he could become more aggressive. She knows his history.

But she also knows how these types of cases usually end, why women don’t bother reporting abusers. She knows the statistics, the numbers of women who make reports to police but who aren’t taken seriously. More than that, reporting Malek is likely to lead to retaliation from him - or, even worse - the Secretary. 

Had she just crossed that line that Malek had warned her about? Had she just ordered her own deportation with that phone call? And why hadn’t she waited for a clearer head before making the call?

In shock, she waits for the squad car to arrive.

Five minutes pass, and then five more. After half an hour without hearing sirens, Satine crawls from her place on the floor to the couch, forced to reckon with the reality that help isn't on its way.

She’d heard stories of the American law enforcement system. She can hazard a guess as to why the police haven’t arrived.

So she calls Asajj.

Fifteen minutes later, Satine opens her door to Asajj and Quinlan on her porch.

“Tell me everything,” says Asajj, stepping past her.

Satine rolls up her sleeve and reveals the purple bruises near her elbow as Quinlan shuts the door behind them and locks it. Asajj reaches out to take her forearm, studying it. 

Then she puts an arm around Satine’s shoulders and guides her to sit back down on the couch. “Call Kenobi,” she says to Quinlan, who reaches for his phone and steps into the kitchen.

“Malek followed me to the library,” says Satine. “It was the same threat he gave before. A reminder.”

Asajj looks at her with discerning eyes. “You didn’t call the cops because you’re worried that will make him escalate this threat further.”

Satine bites her lip. “I did call the cops. They never showed up, and it’s been almost an hour.”

Asajj lets out a sharp breath. “Judging by your tone, you don’t think it’s just because they triaged you to the bottom of the list.”

“No,” Satine agrees.

Asajj sighs. “There’s blood on your blouse,” she points out.

Satine looks down and notices she’s right.

“I’m assuming you managed to land one on Malek?”

Satine nods.

“Good,” says Asajj. “Did you break his nose?”

“Probably,” admits Satine.

“Even better. Look, if you’re right about the reason the cops didn’t come, you don’t need to worry about Malek reporting you for punching him. He won’t want to draw attention to it - because he won’t be able to explain his injuries without explaining what provoked you. But just in case…we need to take pictures of the bruising. And since I don’t see blood all over your knuckles, I’m assuming you struck him with something else? A library book? I’ll get Vos to see if he can find it after he finishes talking with Kenobi. Anything that leads credence to your story, if the cops eventually do decide to do their job and investigate.”

“No need for Quinlan to go anywhere,” says Satine. “I have the book. In my bag.”

The first traces of a smile cross Asajj’s face. “You didn’t check it out? You rebel.”

Satine lets out a half-laugh, half-sob, and Asajj grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch to toss around Satine’s shoulders.

“You’re too cold,” Asajj says. “You're coming down from an adrenaline high.” She moves to the thermostat to increase the temperature, then sits down next to Satine.

Quinlan emerges from the kitchen at that moment. “Kenobi’s headed back,” he says, and Asajj fills him in on what Satine has told her.

He cracks his knuckles. “We’re going to need to establish a schedule,” he says to Asajj, who nods.

“A schedule?” asks Satine.

"Like keeping watch,” Asajj says. “We’ll take turns. You shouldn’t go anywhere alone - on campus in particular - for a while. And Kenobi’s about to become your shadow, so you should prepare yourself.”

Quinlan takes a few steps into the living room. Into the silence, he says, “There’s a flight out of Madison in two hours. Lands in DC this afternoon. We’ll stay with you until he gets here.” He holds out his hand to Satine, and she realizes he’s holding a couple CBD gummies. “Kenobi told me which cabinet you kept them in; he figured you could use them.”

Satine takes the gummies gratefully. “Thanks,” she murmurs.

“He’ll text once he’s checked in at the airport,” Quinlan says. “I’m going to get some lunch for us. Any requests?”

“Something warm,” says Asajj, and Satine realizes she’s shivering.

Quinlan nods and slips out the front door. Asajj stands to lock it behind him, and then she moves toward Satine. “I’m going to grab you a different shirt,” she says. “Is that alright?”

Satine nods, not even really registering the question.

She’s vaguely aware of Asajj leaving the living room, less so of her coming back in with Satine’s sleep shirt. Satine lets her friend lead her toward the washroom, and Asajj steps out as Satine changes into the other top. Satine drops the blood-stained blouse to the floor like it’s on fire.

She follows Asajj back to the couch wordlessly, and they both sit together. Asajj turns on the television to something mindless.

By the time Quinlan returns with steaming bowls of pho, the CBD has clearly started taking effect. Satine manages to get down most of the pho, and she sets the empty takeout styrofoam on the coffee table.

And then she sinks back into the couch cushions and into blissful oblivion.

[watchworldlive]

Danny Ford: The Legacy of a College Football Legend

When you hear the name Danny Ford, chances are you think of Clemson football, unforgettable championships, and a legacy that has withstood the test of time. As one of the most respected college football coaches of his era, Ford brought not just victories but also an undeniable spirit and passion to the field. His contributions to the sport have become legendary, making him a name that football enthusiasts won't soon forget. But beyond the wins and the accolades, who was Danny Ford, and what made him such a revered figure in the world of college football?

Danny Ford: Early Life and Beginnings

Born on December 19, 1947, in Gadsden, Alabama, Danny Ford was raised with a love for sports, especially football. He played college football as an offensive lineman at the University of Alabama under the legendary coach Bear Bryant. It was here that Ford’s foundation as a coach began, learning the ins and outs of the game from one of the greatest to ever hold a clipboard.

Coaching Beginnings

After graduating, Ford jumped straight into coaching, starting as a graduate assistant at Alabama. It didn’t take long for his talents to be recognized, and he quickly moved up the coaching ladder. His big break came in 1978 when he became the head coach of Clemson University at just 30 years old, making him one of the youngest head coaches in the country at the time.

Ford’s Impact on Clemson Football

Danny Ford is practically synonymous with Clemson football, and for a good reason. His coaching tenure from 1978 to 1989 changed the trajectory of the program, turning it into a powerhouse of college football.

1981 National Championship

One of Ford’s crowning achievements came in 1981 when Clemson, under his leadership, secured its first-ever national championship. It was a momentous occasion for the school and the program, putting both Clemson and Danny Ford on the map. The Tigers finished the season with an undefeated record, capping it off with a victory over Nebraska in the Orange Bowl.

Ford’s coaching philosophy was simple yet effective—build a tough, disciplined team that plays hard-nosed football. He emphasized physicality and a strong defense, a strategy that propelled Clemson to national prominence.

Developing Talent

Another area where Ford excelled was in developing young talent. He had a keen eye for recruiting players who fit his system and could perform at the highest level. Under Ford’s guidance, numerous players went on to have successful careers in the NFL, proving that his influence extended far beyond college football.

The Controversial End to a Legendary Run

Like any great story, Ford’s time at Clemson wasn’t without its share of drama. His departure from the program in 1989 shocked many fans and players alike. Despite his immense success on the field, his relationship with the university’s administration became strained due to various NCAA violations that occurred under his watch. While these infractions were relatively minor compared to today’s standards, they ultimately led to his resignation.

Though his exit was controversial, it didn’t tarnish Ford’s legacy. In fact, many believe that his influence on Clemson football helped lay the groundwork for the program’s future success, including their recent national championships under Dabo Swinney.

Danny Ford’s Coaching Style: A Mix of Old-School and Innovation

Ford was a coach who blended the tough, no-nonsense approach of his mentor Bear Bryant with an innovative mindset that allowed him to adapt to the evolving nature of college football.

Hard-Nosed Discipline

Players who played for Ford often speak about his demanding practices and intense work ethic. He wasn’t afraid to push his players to their limits, knowing that it would pay off on game day. Ford’s teams were known for their physical toughness and their ability to outlast opponents in the trenches.

Forward-Thinking Strategies

While Ford’s teams were tough, they were also smart. He was one of the first coaches to emphasize film study and strategic preparation before games. Ford understood that winning in college football required more than just brute strength; it required meticulous planning and understanding of your opponent’s weaknesses.

Life After Clemson: What Happened to Danny Ford?

After leaving Clemson, Ford’s coaching career continued with stints at the University of Arkansas. While his time at Arkansas didn’t reach the same heights as his Clemson days, Ford’s impact on the Razorbacks was notable. He helped improve their program, particularly in terms of toughness and discipline.

Ford eventually stepped away from coaching, but he’s remained a beloved figure in the world of college football. He’s frequently invited back to Clemson for events and ceremonies, and he’s still held in high regard by both players and fans.

Danny Ford’s Lasting Legacy

Danny Ford may have left the sidelines decades ago, but his legacy continues to live on in college football. From his national championship at Clemson to his innovative coaching techniques, Ford’s influence is still felt today. He set the standard for what it means to be a successful coach at the collegiate level, and his contributions to the sport remain undeniable.

Even with the ups and downs of his career, Ford’s name remains synonymous with Clemson football, and his accomplishments will forever be etched in the annals of college football history. Whether it’s his players, his fans, or the coaches who followed in his footsteps, Danny Ford’s impact is clear: he changed the game for the better.

Conclusion

Danny Ford’s career in college football is one of triumphs, trials, and an unwavering commitment to excellence. From his early days under Bear Bryant to leading Clemson to its first national title, Ford's journey has been nothing short of remarkable. His coaching style, characterized by toughness and innovation, left an indelible mark on the sport.

Though his career ended amid controversy, his legacy as one of the greats is secure. Danny Ford may have stepped away from the field, but his contributions continue to inspire new generations of football players and coaches. And for that, he’ll always be remembered as a legend in the world of college football.

[gary232]

List of all organizations backing Project 2025 1792 Exchange American Accountability Foundation AAPLOG - American Association of Pro-Life OBGYNs Alabama Policy Institute Alliance Defending Freedom American Center for Law and Justice American Commitment American Compass American Cornerstone Institute The American Conservative American Council of Trustees and Alumni American Family Association America First Legal American Juris Link American Legislative Exchange Council The American Main Street Initiative American Moment American Principles Project The American Family Project The American Redistricting Project Americans United for Life AMAC Action - The Association of Mature American Citizens The Bull Moose Project California Family Council Calvert Task Group Centennial Institute at Colorado Christian University Center for Equal Opportunity Center for Family & Human Rights Center for Immigration Studies Center for Military Readiness Center for Renewing America Center for Secure Free Society Citizens Against Government Waste The Claremont Institute Coalition for Liberty Coalition for a Prosperous America Committee for Justice Concerned Women for America Conservative Partnership Institute Consumers Defense Defense of Freedom Institute Eagle Forum Ethics and Public Policy Center Fairer America Family Policy Alliance Family Research Council Feds for Freedom First Liberty America Forge Leadership Network Foundation for American Innovation Foundation for Government Accountability Freedom's Journal Institute The Frederick Douglass Foundation Gun Owners Foundation The Heartland Institute The Heritage Foundation Herzog Foundation MacArthur Society of West Point Graduates Hillsdale College Honest Elections Project Independent Women's Forum Institute for Education Reform Institute for Energy Research Institute for the American Worker The Institute for Women's Health Intercollegiate Studies Institute Dr. James Dobson Family Institute The James Madison Institute Job Creators Network Keystone Policy Leadership Institute League of American Workers Liberty University Mackinac Center for Public Policy The Malone Institute Middle East Forum Media Research Center Mississippi Center for Public Policy Moms for Liberty Mountain States for Policy Center National Association of Scholars National Center for Public Policy Research National Religious Broadcasters National Rifle Association National Right to Work Legal Defense Foundation Native Americans for Sovereignty & Preservation Nevada Policy Noah Webster Educational Foundation The Oklahoma Council of Public Affairs Project 21 Pacific Research Institute The Palm Beach Freedom Institute Palmetto Promise Patrick Henry College The Patriot Foundation Trust Personnel Policy Operations Public Interest Legal Foundation Protect Our Kids Recovery for America Now Foundation Republican Overseas Foundation SAVE - Stop Abusive and Violent Environments STARRS - Stand Together Against Racism and Radicalism in the Services Students for Life of America Susan B. Anthony Pro-Life America Tea Party Patriots Texas Public Policy Foundation Teneo Turning Point USA Young America's Foundation

[lboogie1906]

Bobby Lee Bell Sr. (born June 17, 1940) is a former football player who was a linebacker and Defensive End for the Kansas City Chiefs. He is a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame, and the College Football Hall of Fame, and was a member of the Chiefs’ team that won Super Bowl IV.

He excelled in several sports at a then-segregated Cleveland High School in Shelby, North Carolina. He won All-State honors. Claimed to be a better baseball player.

At the University of Minnesota, he was switched to the defensive line. He was a two-time All-American and the winner of the Outland Trophy. He finished third in the Heisman Trophy voting. The Gophers with him were National Champions, played in the 1961 Rose Bowl, and won the 1962 Rose Bowl. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame.

He joined Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity via the Mu Chapter while at the University of Minnesota. He completed his college degree in Minnesota by finishing the three remaining courses he required. He graduated on May 14, 2015.

He played for the Kansas City Chiefs, first in the American Football League and then in the NFL. He was an AFL All-Star for six consecutive years and then an NFL Pro Bowler for three straight years.

He was named to the All-Time All-AFL Team. The Chiefs retired his uniform #78. He was ranked number 66 on The Sporting News’ list of the 100 Greatest Football Players.

One of his finest moments came in the 1969 AFL divisional playoff game against the New York Jets. In a critical goal-line stand, his key coverage stopped the drive and forced New York to kick a field goal. The 13–6 victory propelled Kansas City to its first Super Bowl triumph. During a regular-season game against Denver the Broncos, trailing 24–17 late in the game, attempted an onside kick that was recovered by him, who returned that kick for a 53-yard touchdown.

He opened Bobby Bell’s Bar-b-que in Kansas City, Missouri.

The Tournament of Roses announced he would be inducted into the Rose Bowl Hall of Fame. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #alphaphialpha

[sami3214]

 India’s Top 20 Toughest Exams

India’s Top 20 Toughest Exams stand as formidable gateways to academic and professional success, embodying the nation’s relentless pursuit of excellence. These examinations represent not just tests of knowledge but also of resilience, determination, and the ability to thrive under pressure. From the coveted civil services to prestigious engineering and medical institutions, these exams serve as defining moments for ambitious individuals seeking to carve out a path to success in India's competitive landscape.

At the pinnacle of this list is the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) Civil Services Examination, revered as the premier assessment in the country. It demands a comprehensive understanding of diverse subjects, logical reasoning prowess, and exceptional aptitude. Success in this grueling evaluation opens the doors to prestigious positions in the Indian Administrative Service (IAS), Indian Police Service (IPS), and other esteemed civil services, shaping the trajectory of individuals and impacting the nation’s governance.

Following closely is the Indian Institutes of Technology Joint Entrance Examination (IIT-JEE), renowned for its rigorous curriculum and fierce competition. Aspiring engineers undergo intense preparation to tackle complex problems and intricate principles, distinguishing themselves in a field that demands nothing short of excellence.

For those aspiring to a career in medicine, the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS) Entrance Exam and the National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET) present formidable challenges. These exams demand not only a mastery of theory but also analytical thinking and practical skills, reflecting the rigorous standards of medical education in India.

Engineering aspirants vie for success in the Graduate Aptitude Test in Engineering (GATE), which evaluates their proficiency in various engineering subjects. The Common Admission Test (CAT) serves as the gateway to India's prestigious management institutes, including the Indian Institutes of Management (IIMs), testing candidates' aptitude, data interpretation, logical reasoning, and verbal ability.

Challenging the intellect and problem-solving capabilities of candidates, the Xavier Aptitude Test (XAT) and the National Defense Academy (NDA) Entrance Exam assess a wide range of skills, from mathematical understanding to English communication and physical readiness.

Government job aspirants face the rigorous Staff Selection Commission (SSC) Combined Graduate Level (CGL) Examination, which tests their knowledge across quantitative aptitude, reasoning, English, and general awareness, offering lucrative opportunities for those who pass.

The Institute of Chartered Accountants of India (ICAI) Chartered Accountancy (CA) Exam and the Indian Statistical Institute (ISI) Entrance Exam are benchmarks for those aspiring to careers in finance and statistics, respectively, requiring commitment, logical thinking, and extensive knowledge.

Law aspirants tackle the National Law School of India University (NLSIU) Entrance Exam (CLAT), the Indian Forest Service (IFS) Examination by UPSC, and the Common Law Admission Test (CLAT), showcasing their aptitude in various aspects of law and analytical capabilities.

The Indian Economic Service (IES) and Indian Statistical Service (ISS) Examination by UPSC test candidates' knowledge of economics, statistics, mathematics, and related fields, setting the bar high for technical proficiency.

Entrance exams such as the Management Aptitude Test (MAT) and the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) Grade B Exam offer avenues for management and economics enthusiasts to prove their mettle in competitive environments.

Finally, the Combined Defense Services (CDS) Examination by UPSC evaluates candidates aspiring to serve in the Indian Army, Navy, or Air Force, assessing their knowledge, leadership attributes, and physical capabilities.

In conclusion, India’s Top 20 Toughest Exams are not just assessments of academic prowess but also tests of character and determination. Success in these examinations opens doors to a world of opportunities, shaping the future of individuals and contributing to the nation's progress.

[govandalsncaa]

#31 Vandals host #19 Kansas State in Home Opener

The Idaho Vandals (1-0 0-0) defeated a strong opponent in the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers, on the road last week, and have been rewarded with votes in the latest Top 25 Coaches Poll.

This week, Idaho is set to make their Kibbie Dome debut in Dynasty Season #4 as the Vandals host the #19 Kansas State Wildcats (0-0) on Saturday.

The Vandals come into this week with a distinct advantage - already having played a game this season. Conventional wisdom is that many teams make some of their biggest strides of the season from the first game, to their second game, which is what Idaho will be doing this week.

In their season opener against Minnesota, Heisman Trophy winner, Dylan Thigpen proved that he was still a hungry college football player, carrying the ball 29 times for 106 yards and 3 touchdowns against a tough, Gophers defensive front. Kevin Barnett a true Freshman wide receiver from Whitefish, Montana burst onto the scene with 8 catches for 128 yards in his first collegiate contest.

The Idaho defense showed that perhaps the graduation losses from a year ago, were not as painful as the pundits may have thought, as they allowed just 6 points in a road win to open the season.

The #19 Kansas State Wildcats come into Moscow as a confident bunch. Their 5th year Senior, quarterback, Alex Delton is an All-American that possess both speed and arm strength that will challenge the Idaho defensive backfield.

Coach Idaho Coach spoke about the home opener on his weekly radio show.

"Our guys are excited to be back in front of our fans, and to raise the National Championship banner. What an honor, and what a moment for our program and university.

At the same time, that has me really nervous. K-State has a ton of Seniors on their roster, including perhaps the best quarterback in the country in Alex Delton. They won't be overwhelmed or come apart mentally, so we have to make sure that our guys don't get caught up in all the hoop-la that will come with this game.

Our coaches have stressed that this game is about today, not about last year, or anything we have done in the past. It will be one bitter sweet day, if we hang a National Championship Banner, and lose the game. We simply can't let that happen. This has to be our A Game today, especially on defense.

Skill wise, we should be fine. The mental side of the game is the challenge this week, so I look forward to seeing how our guys respond to the hype surrounding this matchup."

ESPN College Football Analyst Kirk Herbstreit, picked Idaho to hold down the fort and beat Kansas State. This columnist agrees, but it will be tight.

Prediction:

Vandals: 31

Kansas State: 27

[1kook]

card swiped (3)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love.  GENRE romance, smut, teensy angst WARNINGS eventual smut, mentions of sex, virginity plays a huge role OTHER college crushes, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, volleyball player!jk, student council pres!oc, seokjin is 32... and a a coach lol<3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.5k

NOTES (!) seokjin being a hot 32 year old <3 jk gets progressively more dumb as it goes, prayer circle <3 lmk what u think !

[ masterlist ]

The truth is, the reason Jungkook doesn’t lie that much is because he’s terrible at it. 

His mother had found out soon enough who put that dent on the car after a slip-up at the dinner table. His high school coach had learned he had purposely skipped out on practice after an accidental snapchat and jealous teammate had snitched. And, well. Fifteen minutes after the end of practice finds him sitting outside the gymnasium, a grimace on his face as he considers running back to your room and confessing to all his lies. Admitting he’s still a virgin— which was practically of no use to you —and maybe even revealing his own recently uncovered feelings was the easy way out. 

Thankfully, Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is there to knock some sense into him. The hard plastic of the clipboard they use to outline their attacks smacks him hard over the head, making Jungkook’s bones rattle from his skull down to his toes as he steps up behind him. He whirls around to glare at the perpetrator, only to come face to face with the aforementioned assistant coach. “Go home,” Seokjin says, twirling the gym keys in one hand. “I’m trying to lock up.”

“What’s stopping you,” Jungkook huffs, tucking his knees to his chest, ignoring the awfully rude manner in which Seokjin nudges him away, foot against his back as if he’s just an annoying pile of cardboard boxes in his way.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Seokjin asks casually, doesn’t sit next to Jungkook on the steps because he’s always been a little too posh. According to Taehyung, Kim Seokjin graduated from some elite university in another country with near immaculate all-around player statistics before Jungkook even knew what a volleyball was. His success and fame in the world of collegiate volleyball is why he never wears the standard-issued slippers around the court, always some high-end, luxury brand. One glance slightly to his left has Jungkook meeting the black stripe of the frequently sought after Givenchy sneakers head on. 

He scoffs, a sound that Seokjin doesn’t approve of if the karate chop he lands on the back of his neck is anything to go by. “Ow,” Jungkook flinches, pushing him away with an irritated sigh before eventually slumping over his knees again because it’s the exact same thing you do to him sometimes. Study nights— dates, his brain supplies now —where he begins gazing off into space are filled with numerous karate chops to the neck in an effort to get him to focus on his homework. “Come on, Jungkookie,” you always tease, playful smile, lithe fingers toying with the corners of the pages in your book in a way that was almost sensual. But then he does a double-take because he’s aware of the rose-tinted lens he’s unknowingly slapped over it, something he would have maybe not noticed pre-realization of his feelings. And even he is shocked by the absolute seductiveness his brain inserts into an otherwise innocent memory. He’s pretty sure you haven’t called him Jungkookie in years— was his brain trying to hint at something here?

Jungkook groans, knocking his head against his knees as a form of self-punishment for his lecherous thoughts concerning his best friend. 

But his show of emotions must move Assistant Coach Kim because, after a moment of trying to concuss himself against his own knee, there’s a hand placed on his shoulder that makes Jungkook pause. He doesn’t even bother turning around, just throws his head back to look at Seokjin upside down. He’s got a double chin from this angle. “It’s a girl, isn’t it,” his coach sighs, looking at Jungkook with what can only be described as an unimpressed expression. 

“No,” Jungkook defends even though it’s true. “Can’t I just be sad for oth—“

“I heard Jimin call you a simp on the way out,” Seokjin says rather bluntly. And then he surprises Jungkook a second time as he throws aside his posh status to sit on the dirty concrete steps beside him with a sigh. “What did you do?” 

See, Jungkook could lie here and prance off to deal with his own problems. Leaving Seokjin and everyone else in the dark concerning his personal life was, honestly speaking, the smartest thing to do. He didn’t mind his volleyball teammates and friends (in this case, his coach), but he also wasn’t too fond of being relentlessly teased throughout the entire five or more hours they spent together almost every day of the week. 

But also… 

If what Taehyung had said is true— that being, if Kim Seokjin is the illustrious bachelor who charmed his way into multiple foreign panties all whilst demolishing the spirits of liberos and defensive specialists in another country —then Jungkook needed to capitalize off his presence immediately. 

So he lays his cards out flat. “I… might’ve told my best friend I’d take her virginity,” he blurts out, turning to face Seokjin. For the most part, the older man doesn’t look too surprised. If anything, mildly amused. Jungkook quickly adds, “while also being a virgin.” 

“You’re a what,” Seokjin exclaims, chokes on his own saliva in an admittedly not Casanova, bachelor-esque fashion that ends with him coughing into his elbow and Jungkook hurriedly patting his back. “You?” Seokjin repeats once he’s composed himself. “Are a— don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm. “No, Coach. I do not have a girlfriend,” he emphasizes, because who knew sharing the details of his (lack of) sex life would be this embarrassing? 

Seokjin frowns. “What about that girl?” he asks, and Jungkook raises his brows. “You know the one. Carries around stacks of papers to sign, goes to all the games. The one who pats you on head all the time.” And he’s talking about you, of course he is, but the insinuation that other people might, maybe, possibly, perceive you as his girlfriend makes Jungkook malfunction. 

“She’s— That’s—“ he sighs, dropping his head down until his chin touches his chest, brushed against the lucky necklace you’d given him two years ago during their first trip to Nationals. “That’s… my best friend.” 

Beside him, Seokjin says, “the one you’re gonna fuck?” 

Jungkook lets out a long exhale. “Yes. The one I’m going to fuck.” And it’s so blunt and crude, not that it’s surprising coming from him, but it’s surprising because he’s talking about you. Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love. 

The thought must show on his face because Seokjin snorts. “Well, good luck.” 

And then he stands up and begins walking down the sidewalk and Jungkook can’t spring up fast enough. “Wait,” he gasps, clutching at his forearm. He feels like a dorky character in those dramas you like so much, the ones you force him into watching every time he comes over. Like he’s some disgraced son looking for his father’s approval. Except Assistant Coach Kim is neither his father nor someone he really wants approval from anyway. 

What he does want is pointers. From an experienced pro, if you will. 

Jungkook has to swallow down all his pride as a man to ask his next question. “H- How do I—“

Seokjin beats to it him with a flick to the forehead. “I’m your volleyball coach, kid,” he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not your sex coach.” It’s a sensible rejection, one that Jungkook expected, but still. He deflates, let’s the weight of the world and his heavy gym bag nearly knock him onto the ground. 

But Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is kinder than he lets on and, after one annoyed sigh, let’s him in on the secret Jungkook has been chasing for all his life. (Or, well, for the past few hours since he first propositioned you.)

“The key to impressing your partner is to always act like you know what you’re doing,” he tells him, arms crossed over his shoulders. It’s night now, the campus shrouded in darkness. But Jungkook swears a heavenly light shines down on Kim Seokjin just then, a halo appearing over his head when he jabs a finger against Jungkook’s chest. “Confidence is sexy.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” Jungkook repeats, feels like a kid who’s just met his favorite wrestler after years of being an avid fan, watching every match, memorizing every finishing move, collecting every figurine— it’s a little too specific but it makes sense in Jungkook’s case. You would understand this analogy perfectly, having grown alongside him during his iconic wrestling phase (before volleyball). You had indulged him in his interest, had let him practice those Do Not Try at Home moves on you again and again, even when you knew it ended with you bruised and crying, the twin pigtails you used to rock as a kid uneven and messy. But as your best friend, you had let him twist your arm and pin you to the count of three, because that’s what a good best friend did. 

And as your best friend, Jungkook was gearing himself up to completely, thoroughly rock your virgin world. Because that’s what a good best friend did.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[encouragingcomfort]

The POWER of prayer

May 15, 2022

Today's Verse

Then He went back to His followers and found them sleeping. He said to Peter, "Could you men not stay awake with Me for one hour? Stay awake and pray for strength against temptation. Your spirit wants to do what is right, but your body is weak." - Matthew 26.40-41 ERV

Devotion

Once, when a graduate student at Princeton University asked Albert Einstein, "Are there any topics for dissertation left in this world?" Albert Einstein answered, "Find out about prayer. Somebody must find out about prayer."

When the 44 Days War in Artsakh started on September 27th, 2020, we were praying. Two days later, as a reserve, I was called to participate in the defense of Artsakh. For Armenian men, to protect our country is something very important. And on the evening of September 29th, we left to protect Artsakh with 50 boys by bus.

I do not know why, I do not know how, but all of us clearly realized that the war itself is an evil thing, and that some soldiers do not always come back from the war. In my mind, I was constantly praying for the boys with me on the bus. It was somehow strange, as we usually pray for ourselves first. However, having peace inside, I just prayed for the others, and I was calm.

Why was I calm?

I had already posted on Facebook that I was going to Artsakh in Armenian, Russian, and English, just because I wanted my friends (mostly Christians) to pray for me. I knew that they were praying for me. Moreover, I was praying for the boys with that same confidence, and I wished for them all to return their homes. Each of them was brave. They were patriotic, they were eager to protect our nation, but they were young.

I still had no idea what I was going to see. I did not know how many brave guys, who also were going to protect our homeland, would ever come back to their homes. I did not know that we would go to the fiercest battles at that moment. And I hadn't known yet that all our 50 brave men on my bus would return home, though it was so unbelievable.

Then we reached the border of Artsakh, we noticed a drone that passed over us. It was hit by the Artsakh defense forces and reached the base where we had to go to for our positions. From that moment, we realized the seriousness of the issue. We were experiencing a terrible war.

When we were in position—and 120 mm bullets were falling on us like incessant rain—I was praying. As the bombs fell around us, I wondered what was going to happen. It was hard to believe or imagine that a person could come back alive from there, but I was praying. The most amazing thing for me was that I never said in prayer, "Lord, save me," because I thought it could be so selfish and so superfluous. All the time when we had bombs, we thought it was the end. But then I noticed that we all were alive. And it was the result of prayers.

My friends in the war field asked me to pray. And I told them that I was in prayers; and not only me, but thousands of other believers in Armenia, Russia, Europe, and the U.S. were in prayers for us. Then after the war, all the boys were convinced that prayers to God had brought them home. And even a year-and-a-half later, when I reconnected with some of them, I heard the same testimony, "We were saved because you were praying for us." Praise the Lord that my friends and I experienced the power and results of prayer.

I am sure that prayer has power just because God Himself has power. So let us stay awake and pray.

By Pastor Arman Gevorgyan, Bible League International staff, Armenia

(P.s. my added note, let's do as scripture says: Pray for the peace of

Jerusalem, and pray for divine intervention of Ukraine. Gather together in spirit and pray)

[joontier]

Parallel Palpitations | V1; report i

pairings: dr. park jimin x female reader 

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: romance, slice of life, humor

warnings: none to note

word count: 2k

g/n: this is just an intro basically ksjdfksjdf but i’d also like to inform yalls this coincides with the Subliminal in Scrubs universe (jk’s installment of TWA) 

Parallel Palpitations (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Closing his locker with his foot, Jimin tries to carefully balance his books placed precariously on top of each other in his arms as he walks back to the dean’s office where he’s also arranging most of his stuff to take home. It’s already been a week since he’d officially graduated medicine from Busan National University, and he had only kept going back to school to gather all his belongings so he could start reviewing. 

“Jimin, is that you?” The question almost knocks clumsy Jimin off his feet, surprised at how there was still any other person in the office besides  Kyungjo who was also collecting his stuff to take home. Jimin sets all of his books down first on a desk and turns, only to come face to face with none other than Jeon Jungmin himself, associate professor and chairman of the Jeon Medical Center. 

“Professor Jeon! Good evening Sir...It’s already late, professor?” 

Jeon Jungmin laughs, patting Jimin on the back, “I was going to say the same to you kid. You should go home.” Jimin flashes the older man a small smile, “Ah...yes, Professor. I’m just grabbing the last of my stuff then I’ll be on my way. This won’t take long.” 

“It’s fine, Jimin. The staff know you well anyways,” Jungmin sighs, then rests his weight on a pillar as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You know, Jimin...you’re a very bright student...I think even one of the best in Korea if I do say so myself.” 

The young man momentarily pauses with what he’s doing, taking in the professor’s words, “Oh, I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Sir.” 

Jungmin chuckles as he shakes his head. “It’s true - you’re driven and you’re smart. It’s a fixed formula for someone who achieves great success in life later on. Your parents must be very proud. I would be too, if you were my son too.” 

“Thank you, Professor. Everything I do, I do for my parents.” 

The older man lets out a deep exhale and gives Jimin another pat on the back. “Just wanted to let you know that you’re going to be a fine doctor Jimin - and the Jeon Medical Center would definitely need fine doctors like you. I realized I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I really hope you will choose JMC for your post-graduate internship. We have a good program here,” Jungmin’s voice goes down to a whisper, “If you wish to, just let me know…” 

Someone enters the office and bows to the both of them and recognizes the same man as the professor’s driver. The man collects the professor’s briefcase and coat with one nod of Jungmin. “Well, I’ll head off first, Jimin. I can give you a ride home if you’re done with those.” 

Jimin shakes his head quickly, declining the one and only Jeon Jungmin’s generous offer. He’s unsure about the other offer though, but if he lets himself get a car ride home with the chairman himself, the latter might take it as a favorable answer to his proposal to which Jimin is still undecided. “No thank you Sir. I’ll be alright. This might still take a while after all,” Jimin says with an awkward laugh, tapping the top of the stack which was rivaling Jimin’s height. 

“Alright Jimin. Get back home safely. And I...hope to see you again very soon.” 

Jimin gives him a curt nod. “Good night, Professor.” 

He continues on with his remaining tasks, wanting to finish quickly so he could finally go home and rest. “Is he gone?” Kyungjo’s voice startles Jimin, the book in his hands nearly causing the tower of books to collapse. “My god! Stop doing that!” Jimin scolds his friend as it wasn’t the first time Kyungjo’s sleuthing had given Jimin a fright. 

“Yeah, he left already. You done with your stuff?” 

“Uh-huh. All set and ready to step into the real world,” Kyungjo replies, waving his hands in the air. Jimin narrows his eyes at the other boy, judging him silently. Kyungjo has a particular inclination towards alcohol and Jimin wonders if today was one of the days where his friend indulges himself yet once again. 

“Have you heard about his actual son? What was the kid’s name again...uh…” Kyungjo snaps his fingers in mid-air as Jimin asks what was the issue with the chairman’s son, likewise reminding Kyungjo it wasn’t best to talk about it in the dean’s office. “Ah! Yes, Jeon Jungkook. Heard that their relationship got so bad that Jungkook completely cut himself off from the family once he graduated high school and went to Yonsei instead of BNU because of his daddy issues.”

Jimin, unsure how to handle and process that kind of information, simply shakes his head at Kyungjo. “It’s wrong to gossip about other people's lives like that.” When Jimin looks over at his friend, Kyungjo is no longer listening, fumbling with the remote as he turns up the volume of the office television. 

“In other news today, two thousand five hundred sixty one students of Seoul National University graduated this afternoon 25th of February, 2023. The ceremony was held at COEX Convention Center in Samsung-dong, Seoul to accommodate the number of graduates this year. With a yearly average of at least two thousand three hundred graduates, this year’s commencement ceremony records the highest number of graduates in the history of the national university. 

“Not only did they record the highest number of alumni, but this year also marks the first year to have a foreign national graduate as the school’s valedictorian.” Jimin is listening just as intently as Kyungjo now with both boys focused on the TV screen. “Jeong Yeorum, also known as Summer Jeong by her colleagues, graduates with flying colors today from Seoul National University’s College of Medicine. Here is part of her valedictory speech this afternoon.” 

A girl appears on screen and she stands behind the podium with a bright and reassuring smile on her face. “As we embark on the journey of the rest of our lives, I implore you all, to do what you love, because I believe it’s what you’ll do best. There will be countless times of trial, but keep in mind that perseverance will always prevail. Always aim for the moon, because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars. Class of 2023, good luck. And remember, graduation is only the beginning.” 

“Wow!” Kyungjo claps his hands enthusiastically as he marvels at the girl. “The twenty-six year old, who along with her  family migrated to South Korea back in 2015 when her father was reassigned to an office here in Seoul. The valedictorian says she’s not entirely foreign to Korea as her paternal grandmother is actually a native of Jeju. Jeong Yeorum then attended a co-ed high school in Mapo District, where she likewise finished her secondary education with academic distinction.” 

The reporters, equally impressed with the girl’s achievements, couldn’t help but add their own comments to the news report, “Wow...I guess some people are simply born for greatness.” 

“I agree with you there, Dongho-ssi. We might be looking at the next Bae Jeonjoo, the only woman in the group of doctors who pioneered neurosurgery in South Korea. Ms. Jeong Yeorum, if you are seeing this, we’re rooting for your promising career. Fighting!” 

As soon as the news anchors proceed to report other news, Kyungko turns off the television and mentions the time. “Well, she was pretty cute, wasn’t she? Totally my type! Maybe when we get to Seoul to review, we’ll get the chance to meet her...and make her my girlfriend!” 

Jimin rolls his eyes at Kyungjo, placing a firm grip on the shoulder, “My friend...you are either drunk, hungry, or high. Either way, you should go home. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just close up here.” 

Kyungjo shrugs his shoulders. “You’ll still go, right? To Seoul?” 

“I will. Don’t worry.” Jimin gives the other boy a reassuring nod. 

“Still half half with the rent, a’ight? I’ll be counting on you, Jiminie...and don’t let me down. Also, tell me when you’re leaving for Seoul so I know when I’m not supposed to bring hot city girls home...they have the tendency to be...loud sometimes.” 

This boy was definitely high, and whatever substance he’s taking, Jimin wants none of it. 

“That’s your cue, Kyungjo. Go home and take a cab instead.” 

“I can drive! I’m not high or drunk!” Kyungjo puts his hands up in the air in defense. “Hey, look, I can even moonwalk!” He proceeds to dance wildly as he exits the office, leaving Jimin questioning how he even became acquainted with Kyunjo in the first place. 

You barely hear the sound of your name being called on stage when the audio of Hoseok’s loud whooping completely dulls that of your professor’s. “Oppa! Nobody would be able to make out my name with your audio input!” Playfully shoving your cousin’s phone back into his hands, you continue to mumble your complaints about the poor video quality. 

Indignant with your words, Hoseok retorts, “Hey! I’m not a professional videographer, alright? What’s important is the actual moment happening and not how the moment was captured!” Hoseok hooks an arm over your neck, bringing your head to his chest as he gives you a noogie. “Oppa, my hair!!” 

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you quickly pat your hair down but not delivering a solid smack on Hoseok’s back. As you’re fixing your hair, you weren’t able to put much thought into where you were walking, ultimately, and accidentally bumping into someone in a blue and black graduation robe similar to yours. 

Quickly, you look up, apologizing profusely at the person. “Oh! I’m so sorry- I…” “It’s okay,” the guy smiles a little, “_________, right?” You’re sure the surprise is evident in your face when he mentions your name when he barely even talked to you during the entirety of med school. “Yes! I mean...hello, Jungkook..” Clearing your throat, you quickly think of something to divert the impending awkward silence, “Well...um, congratulations to you for graduating as the batch valedictorian!” It now dawns on you that he really did graduate on top of the class, “Wow! You’re real smart!” comes your thoughts, unconsciously voicing them out. 

‘You’re real smart?’ Really? That’s the best you could’ve done? 

Jungkook chuckles, slightly taken-aback by your audible observation. “Oh yeah...um, thanks.” From behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat before speaking up. “Hello!” You hang your head low momentarily, already imagining Hoseok making fun of you later for this. 

“Right, Jungkook, this is my cousin, Jung Hoseok. Oppa, this is my classmate - Jeon Jungkook.” The two men shake their hands briefly before Jungkook speaks up, “Well, I’ve got to go now. Congratulations to you too Soomin. And Jung Hoseok-ssi.” 

As soon as Jungkook gets out of your sight, Hoseok nudges you with his elbow. “Please tell me that man was Jeon Jungmin’s son,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Nodding your head, you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Got a crush on the dude?” Oh god. Here we go again. 

“No! Jeez.” 

“Why were you so awkward around him then?” 

“We barely talked in class. Hell, I don’t even think we were within at least fifty meters from each other.” 

“But he’s a handsome man?” 

“Maybe you’re the one that’s got a crush on him?” 

Hoseok glares at you. 

“Do you think maybe you’d know which hospital he might be interested in taking his PGI? Woocheon perhaps?” 

It’s your turn to glare at him. “I told you. This incident was only one of our very few interactions ever. I think the last time he talked to me was when he borrowed a pencil during a class and that’s it.” 

“Well...if you’d discover where, let me know. Because if he does apply for Woocheon, and we’d happen to get the girl from SNU too....” Hoseok nods his head slowly, stroking his chin “Woocheon will have the A-Team interns this year, you included.” 

You roll your eyes, resting your arm against the car door that Hoseok opens for you, “You really think that’s going to pay for you ruining my hair?” 

“No, but you’re going to thank me if Woocheon manages to snag the dream team!” 

© joontier 2021

[hphmseojunglee]

MC INTRODUCTION

안녕! Hello! I’m Quick (he/they) and my main page is @fireandfolds. I’d like you to meet my MC, Seojung 서정 (he/him)! i used this picrew to make him :)

HOUSE: hufflepuff

GENDER: cisgender woman

ORIENTATION: asexual butch lesbian

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: korean-united statesian

HANDEDNESS: left

WAND: 11 1/2 inch alder wood wand, phoenix core

BLOOD STATUS: half-blood

PATRONUS: swan (penny’s is a swan too [wink wink])

ANIMAGUS FORM: black cat

BIOGRAPHY

Born in a suburb of New York on 10 October 1972, Lee was born to magic mother Grace and non-magic father Daniel. Grace worked as a Music professor and Daniel as a Theology professor at New York University, where they met at an Asian Student Association meeting. They bonded over their Christian Korean upbringings, and soon married and had children. Seojung was the middle child, with one younger brother born after him.

When Seojung was 9, the family moved to New Malden, London’s Koreatown. It was close by to Daniel’s new job, which paid a lot better. Grace stayed at home to care for the 3 kids.

After Jacob received his letter from Hogwarts and left from home, tensions built between Seojung and his parents. They disagreed with his gender identity and orientation, stubbornly using his given name and assigned pronouns instead of his chosen name and pronouns.

He was very glad to see his letter when it came.

At Hogwarts, Seojung flourished, excelling in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. His Potions skills were abysmal, but luckily Penny was there to help him.

Speaking of Penny Haywood… the blonde caught Seojung’s eye the moment they met as first years. They gelled quickly, and together with Rowan, became the core three of their friend group of misfits. During their fourth year, Penny asked Seojung to the Celestial Ball, and later, on a date.

They became the favoured couple of their year, practically inseparable the rest of their time at Hogwarts. The rest of their friends teased them mercilessly about their soppiness.

Following graduation, Seojung and Penny opened a shop in Hogsmeade together called “Rowan’s Nook”. It was a Korean-style boba tea house, where they also completed orders for custom potions and origami pieces. While Madam Rosmerta’s Three Broomsticks was loud and boisterous and Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop was known for romance, Rowan’s Nook carved out its own niche as a quiet, cozy study area with an Asian inspiration.

Unfortunately, Rowan’s Nook was destroyed, a casualty of the Second Wizarding War. As they rebuilt, they were offered a position at Hogwarts by Headmaster McGonagall: DADA Professor for Seojung, Potions Professor for Penny. They immediately accepted, and Rowan’s Nook became a shelter and haven for homeless, parentless, wayward, queer, and down-on-their-luck folks. They made sure to employ those who needed assistance, and soon the teahouse was brought to even greater success than it was before.

Famed Curse-Breaker Harry Potter was a frequent visitor and donor. (fuck canon, fuck cops)

On the fifteenth anniversary of their first date, Penny proposed to Seojung in Jacob’s secret bedroom, now considered the Circle of Khanna Room. The wedding ceremony was made up of their friends and Penny’s family, a happy get-together for all.

To this day, Seojung and Penny are happily married as the Haywoods, teaching students and “chaperoning” school events.

i’ve played harry potter hogwarts mystery on and off for the better part of 4 years. i’m currently in my fifth year of the game, and i’ve done both the celestial ball & first date side quest. i am currently completing the valentine’s day one!

spur of the moment decision here by making this sideblog. i keep seeing pages from other people though, and i want to join in on the fun! also, there doesn’t seem to much diversity, so i wanted to share my character in the hopes that it speaks to someone out there on the internet.

as a butch ace lesbian myself, as well as sex-repulsed/averse & romance ambivalent/indifferent, i get uncomfortable with most of the fanfic and posts involving sex. i hope to add more platonic and romantic stuff to the fandom! specifically fanfic.

i write penny x female!mc fanfic on ao3, the username is fireandfolds. if you want to see something specific, chuck me a suggestion! i’d love to write more fluffy lesbian nonsense with these two :)

[phantomchick]

Naruto Fic Rec Masterpost!

The Last To Know by KuriQuinn Oneshot, Gen, Teen and Up, Team Seven, Sakura and Sasuke, Sakura and Team 7, Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending, trust, broken trust, forgiveness, hurt/comfort, this fic is fantastic and made me have so many feels for the characters as well as the bonds between them, Character Dynamics,

Summary: As usual, telling her the truth happens as though by afterthought. And this time, she's not taking it.

i'll always be there for you by RecklessWriter Oneshot, Gen, Itachi and Sasuke feels, sibling feels, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Big Brother Uchiha Itachi, a part of me niggles over team 7 failing a mission but I pretend that they ran into the hunter nin afterwards and Kakashi got the scroll back, it do be like that sometimes, Good big brother Itachi, Bad big brother Itachi, it’s complicated, Feels,

Summary:

He’s pressed against something warm. There are fingers carding gently through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Nii-san,” Sasuke whispers.

The hand in his hair freezes.

Sasuke gets thrown into a frozen lake. Itachi doesn't know how to stop being a big brother, even when he's supposed to be pretending he doesn't care.

The Beautiful Orange Thing by zafiro Oneshot, Gen, Naruto and Kurama, Naruto is a very lonely kid and the kyubi is a very lonely bijuu, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, chibi-Naruto, Naruto loves Orange, Kurama tolerates Naruto because he is Cute, sweetness and light, angst and fluff, so cute I wanna physically hug this fic to my chest

Summary: Naruto arrives at a weird place and finds something wonderful there.

Maslow by FriendshipCastle Oneshot, Gen, T for cursing, canonical child neglect, Iruka feels, Naruto feels, implied/referenced child abuse, but nothing worse than what’s in canon, angst, hurt/comfort,

Summary: The first four tiers of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Human Needs applied to Naruto’s depressing childhood. Alternatively: Iruka slowly becomes the best replacement mother a ninja could have.

take the fight from the kid by theformerone Oneshot, Gen, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Team 7, Canon Compliant, but can be read as divergent, Post Wave arc, Pre-Chuunin Exams,  

Summary: Training with his team is different than it was before the mission to Wave. Sasuke notices how things have changed.

A Clean Break by GwendolynStacy Oneshot, Gen, Teen and Up,  Hatake Kakashi and Team 7, Team as Family, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Team Fluff, Kakashi feels, Self-Harm via compulsive hand washing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Happy Ending,

Summary: Every member of Team 7 has their personal set of demons to haunt them. While Kakashi is always prepared to lend his students a listening ear, he still hasn’t quite figured out how to ask for help when he’s the one crumbling.

The Beginning and the End by QuinsValoria Oneshot, short oneshot, gen, THIS HAD ME SOBBING OVER KUSHINA AGAIN EVEN THOUGH IT’S SO SHORT, pre-canon era, angst, Dont worry kushina, Your baby makes it out just fine, cries into laptop screen, Hurt/Comfort,

Summary:

“Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.” —Robert Browning

Uzumaki Kushina is an amazing mother, even in the very short time she has left.

OR

Kushina comforts her baby.

The Prince Of Leaves And Deep Water by RayShippouUchiha Ongoing, 3 chapter fic, do you ever read a fic with language that is so pretty and evocative that you just want to lean into it, like a kid listening to a piece of folklore that’s been passed down, it’s just beautiful to read? And the words slice and cut into your feelings in the best of ways, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, Kushina feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Uzumaki Lore, well worth the read even as a stand alone should it never update again, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canonical Child Neglect, Uzushio feels,

Summary: ‘Protect him,’ Kushina prays in the quiet of her own mind as she leaves; pleading silently to the old spirits from her childhood, to the things that the Uzumaki Elders used to whisper about in hushed tones.

‘Love him,’ Kushina begs of the things she only knows from instinct and half remembered stories, those things filled with the power of salt and sun and deep deep waters.  Those things that live and thrive in the heart and soul of every Uzumaki who has ever breathed and battled and bled.  'Guide him, keep him safe for always.  But love him most of all. My little prince of eddies and leaves.’

Left behind, left alone and cold where before there was only a soft sort of warmth and a steady kind of safety, Naruto wails.

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip Completed, 5 Chapter Fic, Gen, Umino Iruka & The Rookie Nine, Iruka-Sensei, Feels, fluffy, I have so many emotions about Iruka being the best teacher in the elemental nations and this fic brought them all out to play, Excellence, Kakashi is a troll, a huge troll, like, he’s such a troll he’s a mountain troll, Asuma is a lesser troll, like he’s mostly decent but still infuriating so he’s a bridge troll, Kurenai is so cool that even when she’s trolling as is her right and duty as the jounin elite she is, the person she’s trolling still respects her for it, a river troll, the kids are so cute and young here, you can really feel Iruka’s affection for them, please revel in the wonderful that is this entire fic, revel I say

Summary: Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

it takes a village by quillofferings Oneshot, Gen, snapshot series, angst, character insight, konoha 12, rookie 9, team Gai, team 10, team 8, team 7, repeating patterns and revelations, kinda gives a sense of the culture of a childhood in Konoha in a way that’s very quietly tragic, this story was written well before shippuden came out but it still reads mostly true to me, A Classic of the Fandom,

Summary: A Naruto snapshot series in the form of a oneshot.

spirals by nescione Gen, Oneshot, Team Seven, Generations, Team 7, Dai Nana Han, Spirals, Repeating Patterns, things happening the same across generations in repeating patterns is a big theme in the canon and lots of fic delve into it and play with the whole idea as a result, but this fic does it especially well, Team as Family, Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, A Classic of the Fandom, Summary: From the sannin to the present- a look at how history repeats itself, and how it doesn't.

this, and love too, will ruin us by RecklessWriter Oneshot, Gen, Itachi and Sasuke feels, Naruto Feels, Short and Sweet, Angst, Whump, Brother Feels, Sibling feels, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Naruto Uzumaki Needs a Hug,

Summary: Naruto remembers the first time he saw Sasuke and Itachi.

He remembers looking at them and thinking, I wish I had someone who loved me like that.

Ten Facts About Team Yamato by Lisse Oneshot, Gen, short and sweet, Team 7 feels, Team as Family, Dai Nana Han, Team Seven, Team Yamato, characterisation, short but solid, Ficlet,

Summary: On paper, their team doesn't exist.

Troubling New Developments by SicTransitGloria Oneshot, Teen and Up, hilarious, pre-shippuden, Team as Family, Kakashi pov, Team 7, AHAHAHAHA,  Puberty hits the genin,

Summary: Kakashi takes a moment to wrap his mind around equating Ino’s chest with enemy shinobi while Asuma begins beating his head against the table and groaning about how he didn’t sign up for this. Rated for language and the general horror that is puberty

Of Harrowed Hearts by Sable_Scribe Ongoing and possibly (probably) Abandoned, Gen, Long Fic, we’re at 36 chapters in as of the time I’m posting this, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix It, Families of Choice, Team Seven, Team as Family, Bamf Kakashi, Good Teacher! Kakashi, Angst, Uzushio Lore, Fluff, Uzushio Feels, Uzumaki heritage, Bamf Team 7, BAMF Rookie Nine, Naruto's ability to make friends with giant chakra demons surfaces early, Rookie Nine, Rookie 9, Konoha 12, Naruto and Kurama,

Summary Naruto has been hearing the rumbling growl in the back of his head for as long as he can remember. He’s seven when he tries to talk to it for the first time. He’s the dead last, the failure at everything, so he doesn’t actually expect to succeed. And when he’s suddenly standing, knee deep in murky water and face to face with a demon, he has no idea what to expect. As it turns out, the world could use something unexpected.

Automatic by Dayadhvam Oneshot, Gen, Sand Siblings, Fluff, Team as Family, but also, Family as Family, Short and Sweet, A Classic of The Fandom

Summary: Gaara's shield defense is automatic: he has never had to consciously think about ordering the sand where it is needed. Kankurou and Temari have always known this.

As Is the Sea Marvelous by blackkat Mature, Gen, Eleven Chapter Fic, Warring States Era, Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama, Izuna Lives AU, everybody lives nobody dies, Hurt/Comfort, brotherly feels, sibling relationships, Angst With A Happy Ending, Insecurity, Self-Sacrifice, Imprisonment, Fix-It

Summary: Tobirama is willing to give absolutely anything for Hashirama and his dream. Including his life.

A Lesson In Trust by Live Gen, Oneshot, Shikamaru & Naruto friendship, academy days, trust exercise, fluff

Summary: All Iruka wants is for his class to start trusting each other, too bad Shikamaru would rather watch the clouds...

Snow Is Serious Business When Your Business Is Being A Kid by vulcanhighblood Gen, Oneshot, Iruka and Naruto, Umino Iruka is a Good Teacher, Uzumaki Naruto Needs a Hug, Fluff, Snow

Summary: Iruka's trying to teach his class, but the first snowfall of the year makes keeping their attention more difficult than he would have liked.

The Consequences of Winning by tabjoy13 Oneshot, Gen, Team 7, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi is a Good Teacher, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi Is Trying, Wave Mission

Summary: Three days. It had been three days since Zabuza’s attack, since Kakashi passed out, and since Team Seven took refuge in the bridge builder’s home. Three days and Kakashi hadn���t shown a sign of stirring. Three young genin are left with the question: now what? Cross posted on FF.net.

discendo docemus by llamallamaduck Mature, Ongoing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Trauma/Ptsd, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Good Orochimaru, A lot of talk about depression and mental instability, Also Sharingan fuckery and assorted eye-trauma, rarepair, Itachi & Sasuke, eventual Sasuke/Ukitake, Itachi & Tsunade, 

Summary: There are some things a seven-year-old psyche is not ready to endure. An S-ranked torture technique preformed by a traumatized thirteen-year-old is one of those things. Sasuke doesn’t enjoy hallucinating memories of his murdered family day in and day out, but he’s learned to be philosophical about such things. It’s everything else that’s the problem, really.

Nidaime Otokage by DuskBeforeDawn Ongoing, inspired by nukenin, Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Protective Hatake Kakashi, BAMF Hatake Kakashi, BAMF Dai-nana-han,Team 7, Team as Family, Non-Konoha Shinobi Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, Kage level Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi-centric, fluff, adventure, crack, mature, fun read

Summary: No one knew him.His father was still alive.His Sharingan acted like it had always been his.Kakashi was twenty-two years in the past of a different world.

French Kissing, the End of the World, and Other Impossible Ordeals by Tsume_Yuki Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Female Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel, Uchiha Sasuke Being an Asshole, Protective Uchiha Sasuke, BAMF Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel Fix-It, Smitten Uchiha Sasuke, grumpy asshole/cheerful optimist, this fic is literally just Sasuke being soft for Naruto, Mature but like it’s fiiine the author could’ve left it at teen and up and it would’ve gotten a pass at least from me

Summary: This is it, centuries of excellent genetics, of carefully selected marriages to maximise the potential of future generations and it’s going to be Sasuke who introduces idiocy to the Uchiha bloodline. The ancestors must be rolling in their graves. In which Sasuke is smitten, Naruto is a badass, and time travel happens.

No Tomorrow by Authorship Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Clan, Shisui Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Longfic, Completed, Found Family, Fix It, Mature, Time Travel, Fuck Danzo

Summary: The water was crushing, pummelling Shisui's broken form, even as it swept him further and further from Konoha. 

And then Shisui woke up.

It's two months until the day he died. Two months to change the current of his life, of his Clan, of his village. And Shisui has no intention of letting history run its course.

¦ part 1 ¦ part 2 ¦ part 3 ¦

[emergingsentiments]

Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha: Episode 9 (Repost)

If the previous installment of Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha probed the heart and its anxieties, then Episode 9 is where the show’s characters begin to confront these fears. Our Sikhye couple had already shared a subtext-laden embrace after a threat to Hyejin’s safety, and now that unexpected skinship begins to bother the two, so much so they are unable to sleep. Homcha shows this in the romantic parallelism of their nocturnal troubles. If there's no meaning to that intimate moment, then why would they lose sleep over it?

But the drama isn’t eager to please by simply saying they are in love. Actions, after all, speak louder than words. And what better way for a man to prove his love — and overcome his fear — than by meeting the parents. Thanks to a mix-up at Hyejin’s seaside home — organized by Miseon once more — Dusik finds himself face-to-face with Yoon Tae-hwa (Seo Sang-won), Hyejin’s father, and Lee Myung-shin (Woo Mi-hwa), her stepmom. This after both overheard rumors about Hyejin’s supposed trysts with Dusik, courtesy of resident loudmouth Namsook. You’d think after being saved from a swindler, she'd be a little more careful around Hyejin, right?

What follows is Dusik pretending to be Hyejin’s boyfriend for a day and Gongjin’s tour guide for Mr. Yoon and Ms. Lee. It’s a Kdrama trope used to good effect in this episode, giving our two reluctant lovebirds the space to be together for most of this chapter.

Mr. Yoon, however, is not easy to please. He’s brash and arrogant, brandishing high standards for himself and her daughter. For him, Dusik’s provincial austerity misses all the marks. Mr. Yoon is also confused with Mr. Hong’s unemployment. What is a Seoul National University engineering graduate doing in Gongjin fixing showerheads? And the language — too casual, too familiar! Hyejin should break up with Dusik. She’s too good for him, it seems. He fears for her future. So easily offended is Hyejin’s father by everything that sulking is almost as frequent as his breathing.

Seonghyun, who the pair of couples meet along the way, is different. Hyejin’s senior back in college, he’s now a successful TV show producer. In on the farce, Seonghyun tries his best to ingratiate with Mr. Yoon and Ms. Lee by offering brunch at Gamri’s home while putting his best foot forward. Mr. Yoon seems to fall for Seonghyun’s affectations. Earlier in the drama, our PD was likable in his naivete, politeness, and helpfulness. With potential losses on the line, however, he decides to put up a fight, and that means showing his true colors — and interests. He’s missed an opportunity once, so he figures he can’t lose another one.

Interestingly, Hyejin and Dusik remain the same despite the spur-of-the-moment arrangement. Except for lying about their relationship, they’re not doing anything unusual. Hyejin and Dusik as friends are the same as Hyejin and Dusik as fake lovers. They bicker and annoy each other, with Hyejin constantly muttering against Mr. Hong’s laughable ideas. They steal glances, argue with their eyes, and jostle with their gestures. Around Seonghyun, she is prim and proper. As Dusik’s friend and girlfriend-for-a-day, she’s always a little nervier, curious, annoying, foolish, and candid. Shin Minah’s wide-eyed surprise and arresting smiles capture the more uncalculated Hyejin, the one lost as she, according to her father, grew up too fast.

Unlike Seonghyun, Dusik is not interested in formalities. He uses his brashness and natural charm to deal with the bullheaded Mr. Yoon. When playing Go, he doesn’t attempt to please the man by deliberately losing. He simply sticks to his guns. Conversing about orchids, Dusik doesn’t shy away from showing off. When Mr. Yoon shows his disgust over seafood during family lunch, he insists that his guest take a bite. If it were Seonghyun, he would have acquiesced to the demands and impulses of Hyejin’s father. Dusik, however, lives large. He can be rough around the edges and unapologetic. He gets his way, too. But we also know it can often be just the exterior — a defense mechanism to whatever is lurking underneath.

We get glimpses of this past once more in Episode 9. During lunch and while Dusik is away, Mr. Yoon inquires with her daughter about Mr. Hong’s background. Who is he? Where is his family? An orphan? Well, that’s a flaw. The irony escapes Mr. Yoon, who gets reminded when Hyejin answers back, that he’s a remarried widow. If Dusik has no blood relations around, and it’s a gaping hole in his otherwise fascinating resume, then what does it make of Hyejin and the presence of her stepmother. It’s a searing argument that Dusik overhears but takes coolly even as Mr. Yoon storms out of the restaurant.

But it’s also an awkward rebuke of Hyejin’s stepmother who, throughout the episode, has demonstrated to be anything but the nightmarish second wife we may have imagined her to be. Myungshin takes everything in a stride, aware of her place. Amidst the hurt, she manages to be the middle-ground for both stubborn father and equally stubborn daughter, attentive to the needs of both. Hyejin sees this and is quick to apologize for her outburst.

Dusik is just as perceptive as Myunhshin. With great courage, he approaches Mr. Yoon to start one of the more poignant conversations in this chapter of Homcha. Broken by the death of her wife, he had largely neglected Hyejin’s needs as a child. She grew up too fast in the absence of paternal love. Listening intently, Dusik says otherwise. Hyejin received a lot of love — perhaps unseen because it doesn’t fit the conventions of what love might be. If not, then she wouldn’t be able to give love, right? Dusik takes the time to explain the actual situation, too, although Mr. Yoon doesn’t do our couple any favors by mentioning maybe, just maybe, Mr. Hong is who Hyejin deserves. Mr. Yoon clearly likes Mr. Hong.

This is what Homcha does well — provide glimpses of the growing affections between Hyejin and Dusik when they’re around other people. During lunch, Hyejin sees how Dusik manages to wear down the harsh walls of her father and fit comfortably with the family. She asks herself in the quiet of her thoughts what it is with Dusik that she gravitates towards. Probed by Mr. Yoon over his true affections, Dusik answers as prudent as he could that he likes Hyejin only as a friend, even though his eyes betray him.

Shin Min Ah and Kim Seon Ho use their powers to demonstrate this tension within. Their eyes flicker and their lips quiver, showing the tentativeness that marks the lives of their characters. How long can they hide what they truly feel?

It’s the same question for everyone else in Gongjin. Love is light and shadow, after all. For the ever upfront Miseon, that shadow clouds her judgment when she gets rejected by a more old-fashioned Eun-chul. In the more delicate relations between Chohui, Hwajung, and  Youngguk, the hidden reasons of Hwajung over her divorce frustrates a Youngguk, who now faces the pain of unrequited love. Hwajung displays a formidable front in the ending scenes when he refuses Youngguk the satisfaction of her deepest sentiments. But bottling it up has a cost, as Namsook rightfully explains. Hwajung will have to admit to it sooner or later.

Seonghyun, too, who is now confronted with the possibility Dusik does have a thing for Hyejin, must take a chance or be late again. On a late-night walk, Dusik also ponders about his earlier conversation with Mr. Yoon and senses it’s now or never. Both have made their decisions. One takes a u-turn while the other heads straight for it. Are they ready to confront those lingering terrors?

Namsook’s broad observations aren’t just frivolous curiosity, however. “If you keep bottling your emotions, you’ll get sick” she exclaims. It’s the perfect commentary to Episode 9’s darker epilogue. Dusik is at his shrink's clinic to discuss the root of his fear, that large swath of evening that hides beneath the daylight he projects in Gongjin. So everyone you love has left you? inquires the doctor, as we become privy to the painful memories of the wakes Dusik has had to attend, wakes that have scarred a man of promise, wakes that stole his sleep.

But the question is too simple, naive, even bare — and that makes it even harder to answer.

[lboogie1906]

Vonnie B’VSean Miller (born March 26, 1989) is an outside linebacker for the Buffalo Bills. He was born to Von Miller Sr. and Gloria Miller in Dallas, Texas. He attended DeSoto High School in DeSoto where he played for the football team. He was on the school track team During his junior year in high school. His record was 37 tackles, 14 tackles for loss, 7 sacks, and 12 quarterback hurries. He was named the District 8-5A Defensive MVP because of his 76 tackles, 14 tackles for loss, and 6 sacks.

He decided to play for the Texas A&M Aggies football team. He played the defensive end position and was named Freshman All-Big-12 by The Sporting News. He played the weakside linebacker position. He was named first-team All-Big-12 at defensive end and a first-team All-American by Sporting News and Sports Illustrated. He switched position to a 3-4 outside linebacker. He was made All-Big 12 honors, won the Butkus Awards as the nation's top linebacker, and was named first-team All-American. He gained first-team All-American honors from Pro Football Weekly, ESPN.com, Associated Press, Scout.com, and the Walter Camp organization. He graduated from Texas A&M University with a BS in Poultry Science.

He entered the 2011 NFL Draft and was taken by the Denver Broncos second overall. During his time playing with the Broncos, he has been an 8-time Pro-Bowler, AP NFL Defensive Rookie of the Year, 3-time First-Team All-Pro, and 4-time Second-team All-Pro. The best moment in his NFL career came when he helped the Broncos win their third Super Bowl Championship against the Carolina Panthers in Super Bowl 50 (2016). He won his first Super Bowl Championship and was named Super Bowl MVP. He was traded to the Los Angeles Rams and was a member of the team that won the Super Bowl LVI.

In 2012, he created Von Vision, a non-profit organization whose main purpose was to provide eye exams and glasses for the youth of the city of Denver. The organization hosts two events each year called Von Vision Day and Von Miller Back to School Vision Day. He has had two children with a longtime girlfriend. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[now-im-a-belieber]

dinner and diatribes

a/n: Hello! I put it off as long as I could but I just HAD to start writing. So, Here it is, my first BoB fic! Any and all feedback is appreciated.

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After graduating and settling into the swing of the life you wanted to live, the universe seemed to actively work against you.

You did not get accepted into the college of your dreams. And the underfunded local university you wasted away at was the bane of your existence. You could barely land a job with all the hours you were required to stick to campus, and only made enough money walking dogs and watering plants to pay for tuition and the occasional new outfit. 

When you started to see the light at the end of the tunnel, with a few hundred saved away, and some time opening up to find career opportunities, the chatter about war turned from gossip to gospel. 

In fact, you'd made it all the way to the opposite side of a fine mahogany desk for your first full fledged interview when your dreams were promptly crushed. The man meant to interview you rushed in with flustered news he'd only just found out himself. He told you the company was shutting down. All the nation's money was being sorted to aid in the war. The president had called for rationing to start. 

The man was near tears when he asked you to leave, replacing a goodbye with a hopeful wish you might be able to come back again one day. 

You marched home at a loss. And the worst thing of all, was the fact that you didn't seem to have anyone to talk to about it all.

The best of your friends had moved away one by one, well meaning phone calls only coming from a couple now and again. Some weekends you managed a stroll through the park with Janice Dean. And you hadn't missed a single one of Rudy Delacroix's card parties. But the one friend you'd always been able to call upon seemed ever less interested in being a part of your life. 

Joe was busy as everyone else, you knew. But when he started canceling long standing plans, and forcing smiles when you skipped up to ask him on a last minute adventure, you realized something must have been very wrong. 

Over breakfast you'd prod him for answers. He'd joke about the state of the world and steal what was left on your plate. So, nothing could have been too wrong. Right?

Joe always entertained your random stops by, and offered you drinks and listened to you complain about uni. He’d curse the place and drag you to pubs and sneak you into films and waste hours by the waterfront laughing about nothing with you. He’d go great lengths to help you forget your dreary days, even if just for a moment. But lately you noticed Joe had stopped trading his own complaints- the kind he claimedvno one else would tolerate hearing besides you. 

And then… he stopped talking at all. Right when you figured it was time to ask what the hell the matter was. Joe wasn't at his place last you swung by, like you so often did. He didn't come around yours like he so often managed. He didn't answer his phone when you rang, and a real worry sprouted through you when the next time you tried, the line went dead.

And then you did see Joe. At the local grocer. You spotted his profile across the aisle and moved to meet him. And he clearly saw you too. When he did, he moved the other way, and disappeared from the stall all together, leaving you to panic over what you might've said or done to upset him so.

You went about your mundane week with a heavy heart. While you seemed to lose hope in the very near future, the world spiralled out of control outside of your windows. And you had no one to talk to about it. Until Joe's mother called. 

"Come round for dinner, won't you love?"

"Of course, ma." You'd been calling the woman by her motherly title since you and Joe first fused at the hip some odd years back. Since then his family had included you in most every occasion they could manage. Until a certain someone up and broke tradition a week or so ago...

"Great! Joe didn't want a big send off but we all know he'll want you to join in the last big family meal before he goes.”

His mother chirped through a sigh that crackled from the other line. And in her all too casual remark lied a clear answer to the impasse you'd been facing. 

"He what?" You asked low, through your teeth, with a sense of urgency you'd never felt in life, till now. 

"He didn't tell you did he?" Joe's mother seemed to ask less more than she seemed to realize; and before you could think up the right thing to say, you slammed the phone down, grabbed your purse, and flew out the door. 

Of course this was happening. How had you failed to realize? You shouldn't have had to realize. Joe should have told you he was shipping out. Everyone seemed to be. But he should have said so. He'd always told you everything. From the embarrassing to the inconsequential, Joe hadn't held back from droning deadly details to you since he'd started. The fact that something this detrimental had been hidden away sent smoke from your ears as you marched toward his family's home. 

The windows across the little brick cottage were all opened, the late day breeze blowing you up the porch steps. You traded knocking for bursting in the door. There wasn't time left to waste. And the realization hit you all at once… but you had a mission to complete before becoming all too overwhelmed. 

Joe's mother ducked out of way, a tray of warm food in hand. She did not try and stop your storm through the kitchen. The only one you’d taken by surprise was Joe, who turned from the sink with eyes as wide as empty dinner plates. 

"You didn't tell me?" You seethed, heading straight for him. Joe started to back away, moving toward the patio doors with his hands held in a pitiful defense. 

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?!"

He kept moving. So you marched after him, out into the yard; shouting all the way asking how the hell he could've kept this from you. How you were supposed to cope with all the worry you’d feel the longer he spent storming the front lines. Asking, flippantly, if he’d tell you what it was all like, or if you’d have to find out from a soldier who'd come knocking to tell the last of Joe’s news.

"I said I'm fuckin' sorry." Joe boomed, stopping near the trees that lined his family's property. You didn’t regret your frantic interrogation but you wished voicing your worst fears of losing him for good hadn’t been what finally got Joe to say something like he meant it.

You halted when he did, stunned to silence. But only for a beat. You watched Joe sigh and bring his hands to his face. 

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" You pressed, much quieter but with disappointment ever present in your tone. You stepped a little closer, willing your friend to speak up. At least now you could see he was trying too. Joe tossed his head back, and shifted his weight to lean against a dying tree. 

"I don't know." He shrugged finally. It wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it was more than you had in awhile.

"I-I guess I didn't know how to." Joe spoke in a tone you'd never quite heard him use before. A terribly hopeless croak. 

"Didn't know how to tell me?" You had to laugh a little. All you ever did was tell each other things. 

"Didn't know how to leave you." Joe pointed, like it was obvious. You watched his jaw clench as you were baffled into silence once more. But only for a second.

"Well it seems like you've only got one night left to figure out how." You wanted to cry. "Thanks for wasting all the time we could've spent figuring it out together." 

You started to turn, only to hide the tears stinging your eyes. But as you stepped aside, Joe wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked you to face him again.

"I'm an idiot but I am not stupid enough to let you go." He said, still keeping his hold on you. 

"I panicked." Joe admitted, speaking softly all of sudden. "And I’m sorry. And I don't ever want anything like that to ever happen again. I won't let it." 

You studied Joe and the look on his face and the way his eyes searched yours so easily, so acutely. Part of you wanted to keep shouting, to really drive home how abandoned you’d felt. But you could see how he'd withered under the weight of knowing so. But you couldn't even begin talking about what was meant to happen next... it was all too overwhelming. For as long as you could remember, you'd never not been near one another. 

"I wished I never had to find out how shitty a day without you felt. I'll always regret bringing it on.

As your mind raced and your heart ached, your brow furrowed when Joe started to move away from you. His spare hand latched onto your other wrist. And he knelt.

"I didn't mean to leave you out. I never want to again." Joe emphasized each word as he strung them together. And after a long pause he spoke again. "So...marry me?"

You wanted to laugh. A good hearty nausea inducing laugh. You could admit to yourself that over the years, in the very depths of solitude, you'd secretly wished for a moment like this, with Joe. But never in a zillion years, least of all now, had you seen it coming. 

You felt Joe's grip tighten as you blinked, bending ever so slightly closer to meet his eye.

"You're fucking crazy." You said, a montage of this week playing through your head. 

"Please." Joe desperately whispered. He wasn't begging you to be with him. He was only hoping that the two of you might make your always being together official. How could you say no?

"Yeah. Yes, of course, Joe-" You finally let a small chuckle escape as your tears started to bubble over. And before you'd finished stammering acceptance, Joe sprung to his feet and lifted yours off the ground in a long overdue embrace. 

He set you down and caught his breath and you started to lean in with a new, unabashed desire to press yours lips to his. But the guy spoke up with a gasped realization.

"Oh, I have got some good news." He grinned, mischievously. You only rose a brow and waited for the penny to drop. 

"I don't leave for a week." 

You understood every possibility that came from his news, and found despite every grim reality closing in around the two of you that the future was full of blindingly bright silver linings. 

Joe lifted you off the ground again, this time as he moved to start back inside. You bargained for him to put you back down, as he carried you toward the kitchen.

"We're getting married!" Joe called to whoever might've been around to listen. 

"That was quick. And just in time for dinner." His mother chirped, as you were returned to solid ground.

"Quick? I've been tryin' to do that since sometime after highschool." Joe pointed, following as you sauntered further in the room, smoothing your clothes and hiding a blush. 

"I meant the two of you have spatted longer over the color of the sky." His mother held a whisk your way, while fixing her eyes on her son. "I'm glad you worked this one out in record time." 

Joe reached for your hand as you stood, listening best you could, all of your senses entirely preoccupied by the man at your side. 

"And have you finally come to this joyous conclusion?" His mother softened, abandoning her dishes to shuffle toward the two of you. She gave out hugs and squeaks of excitement and gasped before taking off around the corner. She beckoned the two of you to follow her, and after a shared chuckle you did. 

His mother was stood at the vanity in her room, waving the pair of you in. And after only a second of pilfering through draws, did she pull out a ring. She gave it to Joe and said it was his grandmothers. The spritely woman shot you a beaming wink before creeping out of the door she'd only just invited you into. 

Then it was just you and Joe. Like usual. At fucking last.

He said nothing as he reached out to pull you nearer. He bit back a smile as he slid the diamond on your finger. Joe broke your admiration of the thing by placing both his hands on either side of your face. And he kissed you like you always dreamed of being kissed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back like you always secretly longed to do. 

You spent the rest of that night squished between him and his family at the dinner table, like usual. They celebrated your news. And there was very little talk of where Joe was headed. But when he brought up the war and his leaving, he held your hand under the table and you felt the hug of the gold band around your finger and couldn't find reason to worry too much. You’d have time enough for that later. You'd miss him. You already did, a little. 

But you'd gotten through the worst yet, and come out of it hand in hand. But before he left, till heaven only knew when, you’d officially and always be together.