#Restarting was taking far longer than I had patience for so I decided it was having too much trouble closing whatever it was closing and

[ani-iu]

[𝟑] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crack treated seriously; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,7k.

// blue-eyed altruist, keep your distance, but not too far

𝐀dam hates coffee.

He doesn’t like the earthy smell, finding it difficult to understand how anyone could derive enjoyment from something so unsavoury. And the bitter taste — it always, without fail, fades into the anticlimactic acidic aftertaste on his tongue, so already having endured a string of disappointments in his life, Adam opts out of drinking caffeine to spare himself from even more misery.

Yet, at this moment, as the black stainless steel exterior of the coffee vending machine swallows up the reflection of Adam’s black mask — only leaving an amber frown and two glaring eyes staring back at him visible — Adam feels like the happiest soul in Heaven. The bliss, however, is bittersweet.

By now, a couple of hours have passed since Adam and Lute split up so he could go to Sera’s office alone. But here he is, standing in the empty lobby, stalling the eventual visit for as long as he possibly can. He wasn’t afraid of the seraph; he was merely not in the mood to receive a stern talking to.

Silence means loneliness, and Adam, unable to tolerate either, as soon as the machine grows quiet, allowing that dreadful interval of quietude to settle in and the pungent aroma of coffee to reach his nose, throws the coffee cup into the trash can and restarts the process. The cacophony of mechanical and liquid sounds makes the otherwise deathly silence at least somewhat bearable to endure, allowing Adam to test Sera’s patience with his absence for longer. 

The high-pitched string of single-tone beeps signals the completion of another order and diverts Adam's attention from his thoughts, but just as he turns to take the steaming cup and throw it away, he sees Sera's horrifying reflection in the sleek exterior.

"Fuck, Sera! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Adam, you are testing my patience." As it echoes through the empty foyer, the seraph's mellow tone of voice is both authoritative and commanding, making her presence felt all the way to Adam's very bones. If you were to ask Adam, he would tell you that the calmness was even worse than if she were to scream at him. "I thought I told your lieutenant I wanted to see you immediately."

"Can’t a guy get a drink first? I had a long day—"

Sera, who is quite familiar with Adam's tendency to change the topic he is not particularly eager to discuss, cuts the angel's prattling short by going straight to the matter at hand. "What is a mortal doing in Heaven?"

"Wow, straight to the point, huh? Well, you all are always on my ass about my way of life, so I decided to change that!"

"You married that mortal." Sera grits through her teeth. She foolishly clung to the hope that perhaps Adam had only brought you here as another rendezvous of his, but marriage, especially if it was officiated by an archangel, was a huge deal.

Adam has the nerve to act surprised. "Oh, so Daniel already ratted me out?"

"No, you did that yourself, but now I will be having a word with archangel Daniel as well for officiating this sacrilegious excuse of matrimony, which, may I add, makes it impossible to send the mortal back! Jaw-dropping, truly. Every single time, Adam, you manage to surprise me with your actions. How did you even get a hold of her?"

"Oh, that's actually a funny story. You should have seen the stunt she pulled in Hell!"

"And that’s where you should have left her — in Hell! Be their problem, not ours!" Sera momentarily raises her voice an octave higher before catching herself and attempting to calm down. She takes a deep breath and exhales, brushing her hair back away from her face while doing so. "Why did she even agree to this?"

Confident to a fault, but having every reason to believe his words, Adam puffs his chest out and points his thumb at himself. "Who can say no to this? Every woman out there wants a piece of the original dick! I just need to pick one of many."

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." At that moment, it seemed like a reasonable statement to make in an attempt to silence the first man, but that didn't make it less cruel. In front of Sera’s many eyes — visible and not — Adam’s expressive LED mask effortlessly twists his glowing features into a look of pain, although only for a fleeting moment. As soon as Adam gets ahold of his unspoken feelings, Sera concludes their conversation, her tone staying resolute. "Usually wisdom comes with age, but I see that there are instances where age comes alone. I expect you to deal with this problem you created for yourself appropriately. If you keep her under control, I won't interfere. If you are unable to do so, I will. Just like I did with Eve."

And just like that, Adam is left alone, but this time, he is able to stay in that spot for as long as he wants to.

Glancing at the waiting cup of coffee, still steaming away on the drip tray, Adam chucks it into the trash and is about to snap himself to his destination when his gaze gets stuck on his hand. With a defeated sigh, he turns around and strides towards the left wing of the enormous building where all the archangels reside.

Raphael is the last archangel Adam wants to see — ever — usually avoiding the heavenly being as much as he possibly can, which isn’t that hard when the first man is an immortal being who can’t get hurt. But keeping your bleeding wound at the forefront of his mind, Adam has no choice but to seek out the angel of healing of his own volition.

Adam doesn't knock, pushing the door the same way one rips off a band-aid. But instead of experiencing temporary discomfort, he is met with a slender, pale-faced figure.

The eyes, which usually symbolise these celestial beings' all-seeing and omnipresent nature, are tightly wrapped in a white cloth, but a lack of sight doesn't make Raphael's all-pervasive perception any less so. With such a statement, he blatantly showed that he doesn’t need sight to see through others.

Raphael's pride is just another thing he has in common with his fallen brother, apart from their near-identical appearances.

"Adam."

"You already know why I'm here."

Raphael puts his quill down and tilts his head at Adam. "Yes, Sera can be very loud when she wants to. So you really are here because of the mortal? Finally decided to seek my help?"

"She got burned by hellfire. I need something for the wound."

"I was talking about you."

"I’m not hurt."

"That’s what you seem to be desperately trying to convince me of, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Raphael’s words are met with petulant silence.

The archangel rests his chin in his palm, lazily drawing the silhouette of a bottle in the air with his finger, while Adam watches how an invisible scribble turns into a tangible object before his eyes. Having grabbed Adam's attention, Raphael uses the opportunity wisely. "Not all wounds are physical, and not all of them can be remedied with divine healing. If you want to open your heart to someone again, first you have to mend it together. It has been bleeding for decades, but love heals. Self-love is also love, Adam. You can’t love someone without loving yourself first." The bottle of dark glass grows heavy and starts to drop down, falling into Raphael’s waiting palm. "The burn of hellfire will be the least of her worries if you don’t take into account what I said, Adam."

Snatching the flask of holy water away from the archangel's grasp, Adam teleports instantly back to his apartment. He planned to fly back, but he couldn’t spend a second longer in the same vicinity as Raphael.

If Adam pretended that nothing happened today, it just might seem that way at first glance. All of the furniture is still in its place, and the dust on it is left undisturbed, yet the man can’t help but notice little details like the coffee table being a bit turned to the side while the room feels warmer somehow — more lively and not as empty. Or was it Adam’s subconscious not allowing him to entertain a thought of you not being in his life?

His legs instinctively lead him toward the bedroom, where a small crack in the door allows him to catch a glimpse of the inside without fully stepping into the room.

The moonlight spilling in through the open windows illuminates the minimalistic space. Its rays are softer than the sun's — not as harsh on the eyes — and bathe your feminine features in cool watercolour shades, making you and your existence feel more and more like a dream than reality to the silent observer that is Adam. Adam doesn't even notice when he steps inside, discarding his mask near the bed and sitting on its edge, your sleeping self right behind him.

In the huge bed, you look so tiny and vulnerable — the bedding looks like puffy clouds swallowing you up in dreamy white. But even in deep sleep, you don’t look at peace.

"Mngh…"

Your breathing is laborious as you toss and turn, so Adam thoughtfully glides his index finger along the curve of your body, sliding the long digit under the tightly wrapped strips of fabric and softly tugging on them to loosen up the dress. Almost instantaneously, your lungs take a greedy gulp of air once the pressure on your chest elevates, so fragile and alive…

Adam's hand goes to hover above your face, not yet daring to touch your pinkened cheeks. Instead, he starts small, carefully bringing his leathery fingers down towards soft, warm skin and brushing away a few hair strands that are obstructing his view. But that is when you unconsciously turn your head and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. Adam holds his breath as he watches you closely. Your lips look as mildly intoxicating as the wine you drank, seducing Adam into pressing his own to get a taste. Staring at you in such a way almost feels gluttonous, as if savouring you without your knowledge or consent is one of the sins God warned humanity about, an ever-tantalising morsel…

But just as Adam lowers his face to be merely a hair's breadth away, a feeling of doubt crosses his mind.

Did you drink the wine so that it would be easier to face him? And instead of kissing your lips, he ends up planting a lingering kiss beneath them — on your chin.

Adam's hand, which supports his weight and lays flat beside your head, grips the sheet in anger at himself. He hates himself for his childish dreams of wanting to be loved in this lifetime, for yearning to have someone breathe life into his mundane days, and for wishing for someone who would occupy his self-loathing mind with meaningless conversations.

"Mmm… Marcel…"

He loosens his grip on the sheet and sits up.

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." Sera's words echo inside Adam's head as if his own inner voice isn't taking enough space in it as it is.

Adam knew a thing or two about forbidden things. He understood how perilous they were and what misery they could bring him if he indulged in them, but there was also the indescribable sweetness that almost made it all better.

He takes your burnt hand into his own — your human skin sharply contrasting with the inky black of his palm — and covers the weeping wound in holy water. With his thumb, he gently moves the liquid back and forth until it all disappears, washing away the blood and pain while only leaving a scar. Hellfire was no joke.

After giving you one last look, Adam gets up from his seat and retreats back to his spot on the couch.

He indulged himself enough for one day.

» » »

It takes you a while to blink your sore eyes open — the room you are in is just too bright.

You toss and turn, pulling the sheets closer to you with involuntary movements. Slightly disoriented, you finally open your eyes, and as your brain connects the dots, the sleepy bliss disappears. You can feel your stomach drop at the realisation that all of it was not a nightmarish hallucination. The room is Adam’s bedroom, as in the first fucking man from the Bible, and you are in Heaven — a place, not a state of bliss.

"God, I’m so fucked." You groan while palming at your eyes. It takes you a few deep breaths in and out to calm yourself down, but once you do and roll to lie on your back, another problem makes itself known.

The wedding dress that had been so tightly wrapped around you yesterday is now just a pile of loose pieces of silk hastily draped over your body, leaving too much skin exposed to the chilly morning air and to anyone’s eyes if they decided to walk in the room. Most importantly, you had your new husband to watch out for, and as that realisation dawns on you, you sit up in the bed while hugging yourself, desperately searching around for something to use as a shield from his perverted gaze. Luckily, it doesn't take you long to spot a neatly folded fabric at the foot of the bed.

Scooting closer, you reach for the garment and unfold it to get a better look. The fabric is so silky smooth that it slides between your fingers like quicksilver. It is cold to the touch, but you have little choice; the other one is to walk naked, so putting on the new dress it is.

You glance at the door before standing up. With the remnants of your previous dress pooled around your legs, you pull the new one over your head. An involuntary shiver shakes your body, but with the help of your body heat, the fabric quickly warms up. If only everything could get better so swiftly. 

The dress is more comfortable, less tight, and has long bell sleeves that leave only the tips of your fingers visible. Still no underwear, but beggars can't be choosers.

All dressed up, you plop back onto the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Deep inside you, a conflict rages between your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity. The wine hangover helps the latter prevail, so you warily walk out of the room.

With your heart pounding, you trail your palm across the walls for support, listening for any noise and searching your mind for the appropriate words. How does one start a conversation in this kind of situation? 

As you reach the corner behind which the living room resides, you stand up straighter, take a deep breath, and step forward with way more confidence than you feel at the moment.

Only to find the space empty. All that pep talk, only for Adam to be nowhere to be seen. Did he even come back home yesterday?

But instead of relief at the angel's absence, a cold, freezing feeling of dread washes over you, to the point it makes your skin prickle. Sure, you would prefer going back to your old life with no Adam in sight, but if you can’t, you are ready to accept your new normal. This is why, without Adam around, you feel the loneliness and emptiness that you felt when you got the news of Marcel’s passing. 

Adam can't die like Marcel did, so his absence is intentional. 

Brushing your hair away from your face, you turn your back towards the living room and face the darkness of the corridor with new resolve. You will do your best to make the most of this situation and use your husband’s absence to look for a way to bring your dead boyfriend back from Hell.

There is one more door further down that was left unexplored yesterday — the one you push open, allowing the morning sun to kiss you all over your face. It warms you up like a mother’s hug, and you feel a bit better until you see what type of room it is.

Jackpot.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause. Given your affinity for reading, you naturally begin by scanning the leathery spines on the bookshelves.

Gold decorative elements on the spines give off a sense of elegance and luxury, but they emit any lettering that would hint at or spell out a title. When you hook your finger and drag one out of the row, it's a blind guess.

The book has some weight to it, which only adds to the impression of its value in all aspects, but as you open it, it lacks the one thing that is most precious to you. The high-quality paper is pleasant to the touch yet is worthless without any ink staining it. 

You flip through the rest of the book, but all pages are like that — empty.

All the same, you painstakingly go through every book. You pick each one with the same exact care as the one before it, skimming through pages on the off chance that one of them will contain something, and after sifting through three shelves worth of books, you would choose any language over blank pages. But as you close the last one and put it on top of a pile, the reality sets in.

You believed that nothing could be more disheartening than finding yourself stranded far from home in a loveless marriage. That is, until now, as you sit on the ground, surrounded by nothing but empty leather shells and an emptier mind. 

You stand up and begin putting everything back, and as you reach the last volume, you hug it close to your chest, refusing to accept defeat. Maybe I need some kind of looking glass to be able to read? This is Heaven after all, and naturally, a human couldn’t simply access something that might be deemed sensitive information.

With that, you turn toward the desk.

Come on, Mr. 'I’m so important' should have something useful in his freaking house.

The desk has paperwork in the drawers, but they look like basic forms that probably should have been filled out and signed.

I’m starting to think that either his importance is inflated or he actually doesn’t do anything.

You want to stay confident, but the revelation hits you in the gut. Despair, headache, and hunger unite their forces, and you slump into the armchair by the desk — defeated. It’s difficult to stay optimistic when everything seems to be working against you.

Having nothing else to do, you pick yourself up and give the room one last glance before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

And then your bad mood is only made worse by the unsurprisingly empty kitchen.

You swallow down the taste of nausea at the back of your tongue and turn to face the rest of the living space while leaning your back against the kitchen counter. As you gaze around, you chew at your bottom lip, debating if it’s time for self-cannibalism.

The coffee table is empty of any trash, so Adam must have come back for at least a second. Now the important question is what he did while he was home if he didn’t leave anything for his very alive wife.

Your eyes move to the side of the main area, where you maintain eye contact with another living thing in the apartment — the potted plants. Walking closer towards them, you sink your middle and index fingers into the pot, touching the soil to find it freshly watered.

So, he had half a mind to take care of the plants, but not you? Noted.

Hunger turns into anger as you storm towards the wine cellar to pick up a fresh bottle of poison.

You wonder if this is his tactic to make you succumb to him. Does he think that if he isolates you for a long enough period of time, you would jump in joy to see him, simply because you would crave that human connection? If so, he underestimates you greatly.

You will jump him alright, with a knife at hand.

You get comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the soft blankets. They smell like him, but the scent is surprisingly pleasant, so you don't mind it too much as you nurse a bottle of red wine and patiently wait.

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t a confrontational person. You wished nothing less than to go back to the bedroom, mind your business, and wait till the next day for Adam to leave. Rinse and repeat. But no, you couldn’t afford that now. Now knowing that there is nothing of value to be found in the house pertaining to your plans, you have no choice but to be confrontational.

When you notice the first signs of the evening in the room, you put the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and begin slowly flipping through the empty pages of the book that you snatched from the decoy study. It's a poor attempt to make yourself get lost in thought, and it gives your fidgeting fingers something to do — not to mention it is more interesting than looking at a plain corner. 

You wonder what time it is in Hell, and where Marcel is right now. Is he lying in bed just like you, thinking of you the way you are thinking of him? You know that he is, and that's what keeps you company. The knowledge that wherever he is now, he is with you in thoughts and memories — happy and sad ones. You now cherish every single one.

And that’s when the front door finally opens.

"Oh, you’re still awake?"

Adam is noticeably a bit surprised to find you sitting comfortably on the couch with a new wine bottle opened and standing tall on the coffee table. There’s a glass beside it, half full.

You glance up from the decoy book. "You hoped I wasn’t, huh?"

"Huh?" He dares to act confused.

"What’s your long-term goal? What’s the gain? You just tore me away from everything I once knew, only to leave me all on my own to navigate the land of the dead!" The sound that is created by you loudly closing the book acts like the exclamation mark to your abridged list of grievances, and when you — not so gently — throw it on the coffee table, it reopens and displays the nothingness you have been looking at this whole time. It's a silent testament — one of many — to just how much effort Adam put into caring for you. So much, in fact, that he couldn't even provide you with something to occupy your time. But that is the least of his offences.

He finally closes the door behind him.

"You bitches are so fucking emotional, fuck. Can’t even step properly inside."

Silence.

You are now looking at Adam through your furrowed eyebrows, chewing on the skin of your lips in deep thought. Thank God you threw the book before he spoke; he can practically see the murder plans brewing inside your pretty little head. 

And then you smile, falling back onto the couch and rolling around like it is the most comfortable thing in the entire world — it isn't, which is why your words sound even more condescending.

"That’s a lovely couch you have there. Is that why you sleep on it instead of the bed?"

"...what?"

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?"

"I— uh, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I may be a dick—"

"No," you shake your head, leaning back against the backrest with your arms crossed. "You didn’t sleep there before me either."

"Pff, and you would know?"

"Why?" You ignore his fake display of cockiness.

"Why what—"

"You know damn well what I’m getting at. Don't act stupid, and do yourself a favour by not openly showing that you are not the brightest star in the sky. What’s wrong with the bed?" You would guess that the mask adorning his face serves a specific purpose. Without a doubt, it serves as an accessory on the battlefield, but its constant use leads you to believe that the man in front of you likes to hide his true feelings behind it. Too bad that his mask is just as expressive as the skin he hides underneath it. "It’s not a weakness to admit pain, you know? Talk to me." Give me something to work with...

"Listen, babe, I think this role of a ‘wife’ is getting into your head, as does the holy wine. I think you had enough of that, don’t you?"

He takes the bottle away from you before you can snatch it.

"Maybe leave me with food next time if you don’t want me drinking! How else am I supposed to sustain myself?!"

"Definitely not with liquid, and for your information, holy wine sustains the soul, not your mortal body, dumbass."

"Keyword — mortal! You want me to die?!"

As you scream at one another with such a hefty distance between you two, the situation kind of seems hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucked up.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that I couldn’t leave you by yourself for five fucking minutes as if you were a child! You know you’re free to roam around, little dove? The cage," he turns around and reopens the front door for effect. "Is unlocked."

"As if I will venture to a place that I know nothing about!"

"That didn’t stop you from going to the fucking Hell! Heaven is where you draw the line?! It’s the safest place there is, for fuck sake!"

In your fury-addled state of mind, you stand up on the couch, your bare feet sinking into the plush cushions.

"Maybe the sound doesn’t travel up to that height or you are just as empty as the books in your study, but all the same, let me rephrase my words. Ever think that it would be just as scary as a human to be around angels as it would be surrounded by demons?"

It turns out that wanting compassion out of the first man is useless.

"If only I knew beforehand that you would nag so much."

And for someone as primordial as the Earth itself, Adam comes across as very callow.

"You call me wanting to understand my husband more nagging? Or is it the part where I ask for basic human necessities?!"

It takes him exactly three steps to stand face to face with you. Your breath is visible on his mask.

"Oh, you want to do your wifely duties so badly?" He coo’s at you patronisingly, his voice so flat it makes you shiver in fear. "How about we start with consummating our marriage, hm?"

The words reach the desired reaction as Adam watches your face grow noticeably pale.

"Nothing to say? Can I speak now, or are you going to scream some more?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, tasting defeat. Once again, you lose the shiny spark of hope in your eyes, and Adam swears that the room grows darker just like the colour of your iris.

"I never thought I would have to fight for a marriage I didn’t even want. Why marry me if you have no need nor time for another person? If I wasn’t in a new environment and actually knew someone else who wasn’t you, believe me, I wouldn’t be begging for your company. You are not the prize you think you are. I’m a fish you plucked out of water and threw in a glass with water because, according to you, that’s everything a fish needs — something to breathe."

Adam doesn't stop you from climbing off the couch, nor does he run after you as you slink towards the bedroom.

After gently closing the door, you press yourself against it and slide down until the dress pools around you. You hide your face in your knees and let out a shaky breath. This is your life now: living in a place that will never be your home, surrounded by creatures who will never understand you. Even if these souls once were humans, they have long forgotten what it feels like — Adam is a wonderful example of that.

You don't know if you slept that night. You only know that your eyes were already open when the first rays of the morning sun started spilling into the bedroom. Everything is foggy in your mind as nightmares mix up with reality, until the line becomes so blurred that you don't know where one ends and where the other begins. 

After stupidly wasting too much time pressed against the door, you finally exit the bedroom when, to your relief and irritation, Adam is nowhere to be heard again. You don’t want to see his face after yesterday, but his absence also means that he didn’t care about anything you said to him — or about you, for that matter.

As you make your way through the empty apartment, the presence of the study behind you is almost palpable — mocking you behind your back for naively believing it would be of any use to you. However, you won't let a small disappointment deter you from seeking a way out of here.

Sure, being able to find everything you need in one place that you have complete access to would be ideal, but life is never this easy, and the afterlife, being an extension of it, is no different. Nonetheless, you already are planning what your next course of action is going to be, and for it to work out, all you need is to find out where Adam works and think of a diversion so he doesn't question you too much. Of course, on top of everything, having bravery would be an advantage, but it's not a requirement.

And just like the sun comes out after every storm, something in your peripheral vision catches your attention, leading to a growling stomach and a spark of sudden inspiration.

Surprisingly, Adam took into consideration your mortality and left you with a plethora of ingredients — killing two birds with one stone by providing you with something to eat and entertainment in the form of cooking. This is also the moment when you decide what you will use as a diversion in your plan.

Maybe you could slowly make Adam trust you over time, or, even better, somehow infiltrate the circle he’s frequenting until you get the useful information. But you are not known for being patient — determined and stubborn is a more correct description. And as you shove a freshly baked muffin into your mouth while putting the rest into one of the containers you've found, you hype yourself to finally leave the comfort of the apartment, despite your stomach churning with anxiety.

He wants you to venture outside on your own? You will… you will…

And you do.

Until now, you didn't have a chance to truly observe Heaven, but one thing is for certain — you look terribly out of place here.

It’s a very surreal experience, as though you've journeyed into the distant future. Perhaps it's because of all the Renaissance paintings you familiarised yourself with during your frequent visits to local museums and art galleries, but you truly believed that Heaven would have more fields filled with freely roaming animals rather than the anthropomorphic ones who are actually not so subtly staring at you as you pass them by.

Their reactions to you kind of explain the reason behind Adam's hideous mask. He did feel quite human looking underneath it, and judging by the looks you're getting, that's not a very common appearance around here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the first man?" You turn and direct your question at the first unfortunate winner you encounter, who appears to resemble a lamb. She even bleats like one, noticeably frightened by your presence and straightforwardness.

However, she is in heaven for a reason. The beautiful angel, unable to turn away a person in need, with a soft, high-pitched voice accompanying her hoof points towards one of the glass buildings and says, "You should find him there."

No maybes are muttered, only an assured statement as her white face blushes golden.

"Thank you."

But you don't care for nuances. Ultimately, you are simply content that you now know for certain where to look for Adam — inside of a particularly tall glass building outside which you now stand.

When you push the door open, its surface fogs up from your warm touch, leaving noticeable fingerprints behind. You tug on the sleeve of your dress and attempt to clean the smudging off, but it seems to only make the mess bigger and, in turn, more visible. Your skin prickles with hot embarrassment as you almost drop the box with your baked goods while trying to fix up the mess.

"Oh, sweetheart, where did your halo go?"

Startled, you jump a bit, causing the door to slam shut with a glass-rattling bang. Seeing no one at your eye level, you glance down to look at a small animal-like creature near your feet. The small sheep angel looks like what grape candy tastes like, dressed in various shades of periwinkle from head to hoof.

Before you can answer him, another voice cuts into the conversation.

"Obviously she’s human, Collin!"

You turn your head to see who the second voice belongs to and notice another tiny guy, but this one looks like a chubby human baby and a more familiar version of the small angels you have seen being depicted in paintings before. These small creatures are cherubim.

"H-human? In Heaven?!" The sheep cherub is soft-spoken, his voice remaining on the lower side even as he shouts.

"If I may ask," you clear your throat to catch the attention of the little cherubims. "Where could I find, um, Adam?"

But they just take the information you have given them and ignore your question entirely.

"It's not surprising that the first man allowed a human to roam freely around Heaven." The more human-looking cherub puffs out his tummy and huffs while crossing his tiny hands in front of his chest. 

"Cletus! You shouldn’t speak that way!"

That's when you feel someone tug on your free hand, the one with your wedding ring on.

"So the rumours are true…" the baby cherub whispers underneath his little button nose while the timid sheep jumps into action and finally gives you what you wanted.

"He’s currently at a meeting but should be back soon! You can wait in his office! It’s— actually let me write it down for you!"

With the directions written down in great detail, it doesn't take you long to reach your destination. You give a knock first, in the off chance that Adam got back, and you would have to execute your original plan. You don’t want to — it’s easier if he’s not there — but you will do anything for this to succeed.

The door is unsurprisingly unlocked, and when you step inside and look around, it all suddenly clicks to you. No wonder Adam doesn’t come home.

Adam's workspace looks like what one might expect a person's home to look like. It’s cosy and warm, filled to the brim with character, as each element conveys a deeper meaning without the need for Adam's voice. Now you know where he keeps his guitars or where he writes his music. And the furniture — now you notice that you haven’t seen any wooden furnishings anywhere else apart from Adam’s home and now his office. Everything else around Heaven is cold to the touch and glassy. You can't help but wonder if he builds everything himself. 

You finally snap out when the door, no longer being held by you, snaps close shut with a loud bang.

Right, you should probably get going.

However, there are even fewer things to be found here. It's all the same unfinished paperwork you have seen back in his home study, but this time there's not even a decorative bookcase filled with empty books to at least create an illusion.

You halt in your step when you hear footsteps and the sound of Adam’s voice nearby.

When the doors open, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You find yourself standing in the middle of the office, with no time or opportunity to hide. You guess there is no other choice for you but to go along with the original plan.

Another angel accompanies Adam; she resembles Lute in her attire, yet her complexion is darker and her hair is longer, with curls cascading down to her chest. She is standing flush with the taller angel as if attempting to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time as Adam. But although he is guiding her away from him, he’s doing so with softness and a light-hearted laugh while the smaller angel seems to drink up the affection with glowing cheeks.

You know you shouldn’t feel the way you do, but you can’t help but feel your heart squeezing up at the sight. And just as you consider ducking to hide under Adam's desk, he suddenly looks in your direction, and his face falls.

"Oh! Hello?" The female angel looks you up and down, craning her head a little bit to the side. "You must be one of the girls from the temples, right? I can’t believe the outdated dresses they make you wear there."

Somehow that stung, even though you didn’t choose your clothing yourself. You started getting used to them, this particular dress being quite comfortable and pretty in its own way, but now you just felt even more like a fool. It didn’t help that you already felt self-conscious — being a human and not an angel. In their eyes, dying could turn you into a sinner, implying that you didn't belong here. But also being branded as old-fashioned for your clothing was definitely a final nail in your imaginary coffin. 

Was Adam thinking the same way? Sure, he married you, but perhaps the Hell’s lighting played tricks on him, and now he realises after the fact just how unattracted he is to you. In the Archangel’s office, it was dark too. It would only make sense—

Wow, your self-esteem got really hit. That is the only explanation why you would care what he thinks.

You don’t say anything to her, just raise your hand so your palm is hovering above your head and move it back and forth to show the lack of a halo. This finally catches her attention, and with wide eyes and a meek apology, she leaves you and Adam alone in the room.

"How did you get in here?"

Adam doesn't sound frustrated with you, so that’s a relief. You swallow down any unsavoury words you might be tempted to say and grab a box of muffins from his desk.

"I took up your offer and went for a walk, also thought I would bring you this," you present him with the baked goods. "Think of it as a peace treaty."

He still looks sceptical, so you bite your inner cheek, put the box back on the wooden surface, and move toward Adam with slow steps.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted last night." There is only a small gap between you two as you, without looking away from his masked face, drop to your knees and sit down so that your butt rests on the heels of your feet. "What do you say, let's start over?"

Afraid he would start thinking too much when you want him to not do that, you don't wait for his answer and bring your hands to grasp both of his clothed thighs. You gather the fabric of his robe in your fists, pulling the garment up — all the while maintaining eye contact.

You feel Adam's fingers wrap around one of your wrists, which motivates you to now undo his belt. However, before you can do anything, Adam effortlessly pulls you up.

"You think I’m that dumb, wifey?" He tugs you by your arm until you are leaning against his stomach. "Save the last bit of your dignity and go home. You want me to believe, after the blowout of yesterday’s night, that suddenly you’re so head over heels for me while shaking like a leaf? Please."

But that’s what finally does it for you.

You free your wrist from his grasp and make your way towards the door without saying another word. You don't give a damn about where you're going or where you should go. At this moment, all you want is to reach the end of Heaven and jump off it. You didn't want to see Adam or the judgemental glances of angels and winners as you passed them by.

But just as you are about to reach for a handle, Adam — not wanting this to happen in a place that everyone can see — opens a portal where the door is, and that makes you fall through it straight onto the couch in the living room of your shared apartment.

"Are you really that upset about me not wanting to take advantage of you?" Adam yells as he steps through the portal himself.

"You are quite comfortable taking everything else from me, so I don’t see the problem with that, but no, for your information, that is the least I’m upset about." You sneer back at him. "Did my presence in Hell truly offend you this much that you decided to curse me for a life of misery?"

"Life of misery? Is that what you call a marriage you consented to?!" Adam instantly regrets his outburst. It was always so easy to cast the blame away from himself. Usually, he wasn't at fault, but your solemn face tells a different story. He made a huge mistake.

"I did, huh." With that, you push yourself up from the couch and turn to leave.

That’s when Adam grows desperate, scrambling to get you closer. He quickly gets back into your line of sight in an attempt to grab your hand.

"What do you want me to say?! That I didn’t think it through when I married you?? Bitches fall on their knees for me! They love me! What makes you so different? For your information, I take wedding wows extremely seriously, and I’m not some kind of monster to touch you when you don’t want me to. I–I didn’t want to come onto you and make you uncomfortable." Adam can't even bear to look you into your eyes. "I wanted your loyalty, that unrelenting devotion for myself. I didn’t think it through. I thought, at that moment, that I could take it, but it was never mine to take. But here you are, bending over backwards, trying to prove something! Is he really worth all of this? Do you think you are so brave for doing something like this? Sacrificing yourself for nothing?"

"For nothing?! I'm doing this for love! Love IS a sacrifice, and I sacrificed being with Marcel because I love him enough to give my life and future for him when I don’t even know if he’s alive. That’s how much I love him." You scream at Adam as if your loud voice would finally get through him, but he doesn't even look in your direction. He leaves you to stare at your own reflection in his dark, shiny cheek. "Everyone deserves love, but you devoid yourself of it on your own. I accepted my fate! I really wanted to know you more, see from your perspective, and what did I get in return?! You treated me like a joke!"

"I don’t want this to just be bearable for you! I don’t want to see you because I can’t bear looking at someone who is just okay to be here!"

"What’s even the point of wearing that mask if you can’t even look me in the eyes while saying that I’m just a mistake you made?"

"I know that you hate me. It would be so unbelievably stupid of you if you didn't, and that’s why it’s easier if you direct all of your hate towards this," he points to his masked face. "Than the real thing."

You two stand so close to one another — too close — but neither of you moves away for a while. Adam can hear your breathing, but that's it. 

And that's when one of you makes a move — you walk around him. Adam tries to grab you again, but you yank your arm away.

"At least hate me like you did before. I need you to feel some type of way, anything but indifferent… please. Scream and shout, but don’t stay silent."

He hates the silence.

You stop, but don't turn around to face him.

"All I can do is pity you. You are your worst enemy, Adam."

Back in the bedroom, you tear the dress off your body and fall onto the bed. You curl in on yourself and burry your face into the fluffy sheets, soaking them in your fury-fuelled tears while screaming all of the frustration away. Your head is a mess, and your heart is too.

Helpless — you feel so helpless.

[eevyerndracaneon]

My PC takes forever to start up since it had a major fit last night

I think the ssd broke or smth

[violet-knox]

Hi! Could u write an adult!Snape x reader where the reader is the new nurse of hogwarts and the start to like each other until one day they finally kiss?🙏😣💕 I hope u can write it, if not I understand ❤️

Love’s Chariot

Pairing: Severus Snape x Female Reader

Summary: You’re assigned to help Severus with the Mandarake Restorative Potion and feel nervous about how it will go. 

Word Count: 3668

A chill ran down spine as you entered the dungeons, rather nervous about the task Madam Pomfrey had assigned you. You’d barely spoken two words to the Potion’s Master since you started at Hogwarts a month ago, feeling flushed every time he came within six feet of you. It was hard to say why you felt such intense fear around him. Intimidation, admiration, lust. But it didn’t matter. Knowing the reason didn’t change your reality and it certainly wasn’t going to help you now that you’d been assigned to assist him in the brewing of the Mandrake Restorative Draught. 

You’d spent every hour of the last few days pondering over why you you’d been assigned such a task when you knew Professor Snape didn’t need you. He’d been doing quite fine these past few weeks on his own with the occasional help of Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey. There was no reason for you to be there and you wondered if he felt the same. He didn’t seem to like you much, at least that was the impression you got when you sat next to him at breakfast one morning. He’d stayed silent, his hair covering his face the entire hour before he got up to leave early, claiming he had to prepare for class. You’d never felt so awkward, so minute, so unimportant in your life. He was a golden chariot compared to you: a newcomer, blissfully oblivious to the hefty responsibilities of a Hogwarts staff member. There was no logical reason for your assignment, that was much clear. All you could do was try and get through it without looking like a buffoon.

You stared at the door before you, your legs frozen in place, too scared to enter his classroom, too loyal to walk away. You wanted nothing more than to run off, to simply continue admiring him from a far but you had duties to fulfill, patience to treat and so you stayed. You looked up at the rustic large door, the only boundary between you and the Master of the dungeon just as intimidating as him. Reluctantly, you knocked on the door. The sound you made barely audible to you but you hoped it was enough for him to hear because you couldn’t bear the thought of having to knock again as you weren’t sure you could knock any louder. 

Seconds went by like hours and before long, you found yourself knocking again, slightly louder this time only to restart your delayed timer. Taking a step back, you tried to convince yourself that you’d done your part. You’d shown up, knocked on the door and he didn’t answer but that wasn’t the whole truth. You didn’t want him to hear you and so you tried to cheat your way out of making your presence known. One more try, you told yourself. Knock properly once and get it over with and so you did. Knock, knock, knoc-.

The door swung open and you found yourself caught stiff, like a deer in the headlights, staring into the face of the man you’d been too afraid to be around. You hadn’t been this close to him since you sat next to him during breakfast, every feature on his face more prominent than it was before. He was taller than you thought he was, the distance you’d been putting between you and him blurring your view of him.

“Have you been standing out here long?” His deep stern voice enchanted you, your mind blanking as you stared up at him. He sounded bored, like the task at hand was simple enough for a child to complete and his expression told you he too had not been looking forward to your lending hand.

“N-no,” you stumbled over your own lie as you shrunk in your place, hoping the floor would swallow you whole. You were made alarmingly aware of your flushed face and the fact that you’d been holding your breath when you spoke. This was worse than breakfast, worse than what you imagined. Much much worse.

“You should have knocked,” he said simply. His tone gave nothing away. You couldn’t tell how he felt, if he was annoyed, frustrated, angry or if he felt the same awkward spark that had ignited the day you laid eyes on one another, refusing to be put out no matter how hard you tried. The Potion’s Master turned on his heels and walked back into his classroom, leaving you to grasp at the overwhelming sense of uncertainty created between you both. 

Stepping inside, you turned back and closed the door, the creaking of your slow movement echoing inside his classroom. It’s funny how a classroom changed so minimally yet felt so drastically different with the rotation of all the professors who’ve occupied it in the past. When Slughorn taught you in this class, you’d never felt the cold of the dungeon air. The layout of the room hadn’t changed, yet with Professor Snape it somehow felt more important, like his mere presence demanded those who step foot in the class show respect for the delicate art of potion making.  

“I presume you’re aware of the duties you’re to attend to this evening,” he spoke as he set up his workstation around the giant cauldron bubbling in the middle of one of the tables. He was ready to begin working and apparently assumed you would be too. 

“N-no Professor,” you said, stepping forward, addressing him professionally so as to not offend him further. You’d been here less than ten seconds and already you were disappointing him, you didn’t want to make it worse by speaking out of term. “Madam Pomfrey only informed me I’d be assisting you.”

Severus sighed in frustration. Not only was he force to spend time with you, to socialize with the person he’d felt too flustered to be around this past month, but Madam Pomfrey had also decided it was imperative for him to waste his time directing you when he should be working on the potion that was to save all those petrified victims filling up her infirmary. It had taken so long for those Mandrakes to grow, his focus these past few months split between stressing over whatever was causing the petrifications and modifying the Mandrake Restorative Draught to cure those who’d fallen victim. And then Dumbledore had to go and hire two more nurses to aid Madam Pomfrey during these ‘troubling times’ as he put it, and he suddenly found his focus shifting to you instead of his work. 

You were so kind, so willing to help, always in uniform, ready to work even when you were off duty. He’d taken every excuse he could get just to watch you from afar. Refilling the Potions cupboard in the hospital wing himself twice every week, taking extra long to take inventory of what Potions they were running low on. He listened to you and hung on your every word, your smile in his peripheral instantly brightening up his day. Always from afar, always at a safe distance away from you where he could do you no harm. You were pure, innocent, untouched by the evils of this world and he couldn’t bear threatening to take that bliss away from you. 

This was risky, brewing with you. He thought of requesting the other nurse when he heard you’d be joining him but he knew how hurt you’d feel to be passed over like that and, if he was to be honest with himself, he didn’t want the other nurse. He wanted you. He wanted to get to know you, to converse with you as you both worked together but he was afraid of what might happen if you did. Would you find him repulsive if he got too close? Would you ask to be transferred out if he dare speak a word of the curse that fell upon him? The one that pushed Lily away, ultimately killing her, the one that gifted him the negligent childhood he’d endured, the one that was responsible for his current status as an ex-Death Eater with no friends and a need to repent. 

None of that mattered now. You were here and all he could do was hope this Potion would brew faster than expected so that he could resume keeping himself away from you. The quicker he gave you the instructions you needed, the less time you would be forced to spend with him and the safer you would be. 

“Professor Sprout has left all the Mandrake roots here,” he began, pointing at the endless crates that sat on the table next to the one where he’d set up his cauldron. “And I need you to extract their cores so I can use the xylem for the potion.”

Severus watched as you immediately nodded your head and made your way to the cutting board and knife he’d set on the table for you to use. You picked up the knife and extracted one of the roots from the crates, looking back at him before you began. He pulled his gaze away from you the moment your head turned towards him, but you’d still managed to catch a glimpse of his face before his hair flew in front of it. Heat rose to your cheeks and you wondered if he’d truly been staring at you or if his intimidating presence had just gone to your head. You worried he was staring to make sure you wouldn’t mess up your task, but you hoped he’d glanced your way for another reason. 

Holding the knife away from you, you began to peel the Mandrake root, each root taking longer than the last to peel but you continued on, letting the silence of the room engulf you. The longer you worked in his presence, the more you wished he’d say something but every time you’d look over in his direction, he would seem so concentrated and the last thing you wanted was to distract him from such important work. Still your eyes ventured to him more often than you’d like but you couldn’t help your admiration. His fingers so elegantly measuring out each ingredient like it was second nature and he looked so relaxed, so… perfect. 

“It would be much easier if you simply chopped them.” You were so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t realized he’d walked over to you. You jumped back when you saw how close he was to you, dropping the root you had in your hand, gasping as you pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

The Professor took a step back, a mixture of disappointment and guilt written on his face. You giggled at how silly it was of you to be frightened by him. Afterall, you knew he’d been in the room with you, there was no reason for you to be taken back by him like that. “I didn’t hear you approach, you startled me. If you know of a more efficient way to extract the root, perhaps you could teach me.”

You offered him the knife in your hand, rather hoping he’d help make this entire tedious process a little faster. His hand reached up and you felt his fingers grazing your palm as he took the knife from you. Your heart leaped out of your chest as your eyes locked for what felt like a millennium. You’d heard many of the students speak rather harshly of their Potion’s Professor, many claiming his eyes were dead and cold, but you disagreed. They were sad yes, but they were warm. They held the weight of the world yet were inviting to those who knew where to look. 

Severus broke the silence as he cleared his throat and looked back at the table to pick up the root that had fallen from your hand. He felt rather infatuated by you. He’d never felt like this before, so speechless, unable to think or speak in your presence. His mind was always blank, always vulnerable when he got too close to you, but it felt good, like a weight was lifted, like for once, he was allowed to breath. 

“Just cut down the middle of the root like so,” Severus said as he kept his eyes on the Mandrake root, trying to pretend like you weren’t there, like he was just teaching a class rather than the one person he wanted to know more about, to grow close to. “Then simply peel away the outside.”

You watched as he extracted the core with ease, astounded by the fact it had taken no more than ten seconds when you’d spent ten minutes peeling away at just one root. 

“Wow!” You exclaimed without realizing just how exaggerated your praise sounded. But you couldn’t help it, you were appreciative, happy to learn from someone as talented as he was. “That’s much quicker than what I was doing. Thanks, Professor.”

“Severus,” he quickly corrected you without a second thought. He hated hearing you speak to him as if you were just another coworker, like you saw him as nothing more than the school’s Potion’s Master, simply there to help keep the infirmary stocked with Potions. “Y-you can call me Severus.”

You smiled in content; he was comfortable with you. At least, comfortable enough to let you use his real name, his given name. All that fear you’d felt, the anxious feeling you had about working with him melted away, replaced with the need to know him, to speak with him, to touch him.

“Then you can call me (Y/N),” you reciprocated, holding out your hand for him to hand you back the knife. You held eye contact with him as you felt the handle of the knife slip into your palm, the tips of his fingers grazing against your skin once again. You gripped the knife when he let go but your eyes didn’t leave his until he reached around you to hand you another Mandrake root. He watched you duplicate his method; cutting the root down the middle and then peeling away the outside, popping the core out and placing it in the bowl he’d provided you.

“I’ve heard that you’ve sought to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts,” you spoke as you continued cutting when you felt him step back, wanting this moment to last. You spoke the first thing that came to mind, hoping the rumours you’d heard were true, hoping this topic was one he didn’t mind speaking about. “You’d make a much better Defense Professor than Lockhart.”

“Calling that man a Professor is an insult to the school,” Severus said as he went to grab a second knife to cut with you. “He’s a worse teacher than he was a student.”

“How do you know?” You asked curiously, wondering why he spoke as if he had first-hand experience with his time as a student. Lockhart was a few years younger than both of you, neither of you could possibly remember his Hogwarts days.

“I taught him.” Your jaw dropped and your attention was pulled back to him. You paused a moment before you spoke.

“No, you didn’t!” You dropped the knife in your hand and turned to face him completely, one hand over your mouth suppressing your laughter which instead came out as a giggle.

“I unfortunately did,” he smiled at you, abandoning the task at hand to share this moment with you. He watched as you laughed, and he could have sworn this was the happiest he’d ever seen you. You looked even more majestic with such a wide smile on your face and it made him appreciate you all the more.

“I cannot believe you taught that man,” you said, taking a step forward, placing a hand on his arm. You were too caught up in the moment to realize how close you’d gotten to him, that the musky smell filling the air around you didn’t belong to the potion but to him instead. “Did he learn nothing from you?”

Severus felt a heavy weight on his chest as he let his eyes roam the features of your face. What he’d give to hold you in his arms, hug you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you. Kiss you. Kiss you. Love you. He was very much infatuated with you, much more than he’d apparently cared to admit. 

“It very much seems to be the case. If he hadn’t taken his O.W.Ls with Slughorn, I never would have accepted him into my N.E.W.T class in the first place. But as it so happened, Dumbledore said I could not raise the grade requirement unless the students had taken their O.W.Ls with me.”

You giggle, your admiration for the man ever growing as he spoke of his standards. “You know, I’ve worked in this industry a little over a decade and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Potions of such high quality like yours.”

Severus lowered his head, his smile static as he blushed from your compliment. He could hardly believe you’d thought of his work in such a way, that you’d worked at St. Mungo’s and still thought his Potions were better, that you’d given him enough attention to notice his work in the first place. He’d always imagined you saw him as the man who provided you with your tools and no more, he never would have thought you admired him. 

You looked up at him and watched his face attentively. You loved how flushed he got from such a simple compliment and wondered what he would look like if he knew how you truly felt about him. It was odd how you tried to pretend like your feelings of admiration were strictly professional yet in this moment, standing in front of him, inches away, you knew it was more than that. Love, connection, happiness. That is what you felt and what you were sure he felt as well.

“I-umm,” Severus croaked over the empty words in his mind. He wanted to say something, to feel more comfortable with you again, but he found himself back in a place of awkwardness, too scared to say a word to you. He did not want to push you away, to ruin the progress he felt he made today and anything he could think of saying he knew would not end well. 

You sensed his hesitation and wondered for a moment if you’d done something wrong, but when you looked back into his eyes, you realized it wasn’t anger or annoyance that kept him from speaking. He was nervous, like a schoolboy confronting his crush. You smiled and let out a sigh of relief, taking a step closer as you placed your hands on his arms, slowly moving them up to rest on his bicep. Your movement had caught his attention as his eyes met yours, need reflected within them. You were inches away, your beating hearts reaching out for one another, begging you to step closer. 

Without a second thought, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his. You felt your heart leap out of your chest as you let out every emotion you felt for him into this kiss. You’d been so focused on yourself, you hadn’t noticed his lips weren’t moving with yours. Feeling rather embarrassed, you jolted back, averting your eyes in panic. What had you just done? Had you really just ruined any sort of professional relationship you could have had with him with a splurge in the moment kiss?

“I-I’m sorry,” you spoke quickly, your hands shaking as you feared for what he might do. Your career over if he were to complain to your superiors, have you transferred to a different department in the medical division of the Wizarding World, or worse, have you fired. No one would hire you again. No one would want you. “I didn’t mean-”

Your panicked thoughts were instantly washed away as his lips met yours once again, passion spilling over from him and back into you. You hummed from the shock in delight, throwing your arms around him as you pressed yourself into him, kissing him back eagerly as you indulge yourself in his touch. 

Severus had taken a leap of faith, a step towards happiness, knowing now what he wanted and what you wished for was one in the same. He hadn’t imagined the emotions flowing between you, the spark growing into a flame this past month because you’d felt it too. By some miracle, you reciprocate his feelings, and he had no idea why but, in this moment, he didn’t care. He enjoyed the feeling of your body against his, his hands sliding down your sides, one making its way into your hair as the other kept you in place. He wanted to freeze time, to stay like this forever in bliss with you. 

“That was…” You’d tried to speak when you parted, your lips still so close to his, but the words were lost on you like they were him. He wouldn’t dare take his eyes off you lest it break the spell. He took this moment instead to memorize your face, taking in every detail he’d never gotten to see before and when he’d found his heart beginning to ache, he pressed his lips back against yours like you were his oxygen. 

You smiled against him, happily kissing back, thinking about your future with him, about the happiness you were going to build with him. You’d only spoken twice before, kissed him three times yet you were planning a whole life together in your imagination. This was right, he was right for you. It felt like everything had suddenly clicked into place. You weren’t meant to work at Hogwarts to help with the petrification, you were here to meet him. You were together now, whole, complete. You found each other in the sea of darkness that surrounded your lives and together you’d swim to shore. Together you would live. Together you’d be happy. 

 @dracos-mudblood @darkthought15 @severuslovebot @mitchiesdungeon @bush-viper-cutie @raven-hopeflyte @wanderingtrails @sleepysnapesnake @fluffymadamina

[cafeinthemoon]

From the Human Heart - Chapter III

Chapter: 3/4

Wordcount: 2905

Title: The Lamb and the Knife

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2

Symbols: ⭕ . ➕ . 💛 . ▶️▶️

Warning (s): Mental breakdown, mental instability (one occurrence in the beginning of the chapter)

N. A.: I confess I was a bit afraid that this chapter ended up too sad or depressing during reader's return to the village, because what she sees there is something that could break anyone's spirit, and with her things are not different. However this story has a happy ending, so I guess I can make up for it 😅 Also, I was planning to finish the story in this chapter, but the text ended up being too long, so I had to add a fourth chapter. I usually avoid establishing a number of chapters in my wips because they always get longer than I plan, but this one should be a short story (guess I failed in this smh)

A shiver ran all over your body and woke you up in an instant.

You didn’t open your eyes yet, but you knew you were lying on something cold, having your cloak to protect you from the chilling breeze of the morning. Morning? Something was telling you that it was morning already. Well, in that case… when did you fall asleep? What happened to you while you were not awake?

The rustling noise of the leaves was heard when you moved on your spot, your right arm aching after spending a long time in the same position. You opened your eyes at last and found a gray, autumnal day around you, the fainting light barely breaking through the dense top of the trees. All you could see was brown, red and yellow, as expected. Fortunately, winter hasn’t reached you yet.

That was strange, to be honest. Why would you think you’ve spent more than one night in that place, long enough to not see the change of seasons?

You sat on the forest’s ground and checked your own state. Everything was in its place: your dress, with the slit in the cleavage made by the King of Curses; the cut in your cloak’s stripe was still there, but the stripe was tied up again around your neck, a bit tighter; your empty bag was on the ground, serving as a pillow in that wild, improvised bed. Was it you that arranged things this way? Was it him? You didn’t know, and you didn’t think that finding out the truth would bring you any comfort.

In an urge to make sure you were alright, you opened your cleavage and checked your skin in the spot touched by Sukuna to seal the pact. There was no stain, no wound, no mark there; you weren’t feeling pain, burning or ache. Nothing changed in it. Of course not, you old yourself: what he did was an enchantment to change your soul, not your body. Any change that could come from it would not be visible to the eye.

With effort, you took your bag and stood up. You shook the leaves and tugs off your dress and cloak and took a second look at your surroundings. That was the same clearing in which you met Sukuna, and you were lying among the roots of the same tree you stopped at to read the sentences of the ritual.

The clearing didn’t seem so large and mysterious now that you were seeing it under the day light. It was silent, unlike the moment when you found it, full of sounds of night birds and small predators rushing their paws through the leaves, out of your sight. All that life was now gone, as if it has never existed.

A blow of cold wind twirled and passed by you before you could see where it came from, carrying leaves and dust with it. You took it was a sign to leave, as if it was saying to you that there was nothing there but death and oblivion. You protected your eyes and once the column of dust moved away, you ran out of that place.

You didn’t know how you managed to run through the same way that brought you to that cursed forest without ending up breathless, aching and out of your mind. Your feet were carried down through its declined territory, full of traps and roots, not stumbling in a single one of them, nor your clothing were ripped or got stuck while you ran.

To you, you’ve been running forever: the more you moved forward, the more the scenario around you looked the same. Was it part of the enchantment or were you just tired, eager to return to your village and see the results of the treaty?

You relied on this latter and continued to move.

***

The village, seen from the high spot of the hill, was the same since you left it. Not that you should expect something else – you were changed, nor your old home. Besides, you couldn’t have left for so long. But it felt like years in your heart, and the night before landed as a dream in your memory now. You adjusted the hood upon your head and tightened your grip around your cloak: the cold breeze ran free without the trees to obstruct it and you wanted to protect yourself; and, despite your trust in the results of the enchantment, you still had no ways to know exactly who were going to see you or not, so that you didn’t want to expose yourself before you had the chance to explore the territory.

Well, when you were reaching the lowest spot of the hill you were left with minimal choices regarding this.

A commotion was happening at the village’s entry, not so far from the place you where standing: a group of people stared with desperation to two or three men who you recognized as members of the Jujutsu council, the ones your father used to refer as his closest allies among them; these men were trying, with great effort, to contain a man who screamed incomprehensible words in a harsh, animalistic voice and scaring the villagers. The man was dressed in the same traditional clothing of the sorcerers, but all the noble aspect of it was gone, replaced with rips and blood as if its owner was kept locked inside a cage and tried everything in his reach to escape it, fighting with people and weapons.

Your blood ran cold in your veins when you recognized the insane man as your father.

After that, it was like your ears were uncovered and you started to understand what he and the other men were saying. They were arguing under a case of thievery: a treasure has vanished from the Jujutsu collection at your father’s house; the masters were convinced that the responsible for the crime was now far away from the village and must have been a clever Jujutsu sorcerer since they managed to deceive all of them, including your father; however, they were confused by the story your father was telling.

Between one growl and another, this was what you could understand from his speech.

- I know exactly who did this! My daughter did this! My own daughter! And I will hunt her till the end of the world!

His own daughter. You.

Your feet stepped back in an unconscious urge to run, but somehow you stood to listen to the rest. You immediately understood the agitation among the Jujutsu masters: the treasure that disappeared was the flower, without which they could not stand a chance against its true owner. Without the jewel, all the lies told by them and their leader were going to be brought to the surface and the whole village was going to pay for their dishonesty.

But none of this has hit you like the realization that your father was talking about you, that he still remembered about you and was willing to come after you to recover the jewel.

And that the situation was not the same to anyone among the people around him.

- Please, enough with this nonsense, master y/sn! – one of the sorcerers was saying, struggling to hold the furious man by his arm.

- Enough with this! – a second man shouted with less patience – You have no daughter! You’ve never had!

Yes, it wasn’t that surprising that the elders couldn’t see you – they never hid their distaste towards you, the greatest obstacle to their ascension in your Jujutsu society. But you didn’t take too long to notice that they weren’t the only ones who have forgotten about you: the entire village has, or at least all the people who were at your sight, some of them known to you for years. Some of them you yourself used to love and respect, and have trusted with your life in the worst moments of your relationship with your father – people you could swear to love you back.

Could it be that you, known by your connection with the most important sorcerer of the village, was an unpleasant presence to them as much as your father must have been? Could it be that they only tolerated you because of him?

A tear rolled down your left cheek, dried by the cold wind that passed at that moment, strong enough to take off the hood of your head. You still weren’t sure of what was more painful: to realize that your father was the only one who remembered you or to see that not even the people you liked were able to reciprocate you just enough to not forget you after an enchantment.

Something died inside you while you saw that. So you just put your hood back and turned your back on your old home, restarting your way up the hill again and hurrying up before your father noticed your presence.

***

It wouldn’t make a great difference if you decided to stay in that forest if the next night reached you there, for you had nowhere to come back as much as you had no place to go to. You were no longer on a hurry: running up that hill twice in so little time has taken the remaining energy in your body and your spirit, so you started walking; if you were passing by the same paths you’ve crossed before, you didn’t know and didn’t care.

To say you were walking was too much. Your legs were shaking, and your numb feet were stumbling even before reaching the obstacles; your hands were doing their best to hold on to the branches and any other support they were able to find, since you couldn’t count on your eyes to guide you: you hadn’t go blind, but you weren’t seeing anything in your way. Your attention was all in what you just witnessed, not in what you had in front of you.

It was as if you just died and had the opportunity to come back to see how the people you knew were dealing with your absence. If you were honest to yourself, you would have already accepted that what you saw wasn’t unexpected at all; still, it wasn’t something that you could completely understand until it happened to you.

At some dense spot of the grove you stopped, despite not having any hopes of finding some rest. You held tight on a low branch to not fall of exhaustion and concentrated on your breath. It was when you noticed you didn’t sense the expected harshness of wood while touching its surface.

You looked at your hand and screamed – your skin, exposed until your fist, was blue. Blue, but not just as a way to say it was cold: it was indeed blue, as a frozen lake reflecting the winter sky. You stepped back as if that was the hand of a stranger, but it followed you and obeyed all your commands, not letting any space for doubts; it belonged to you. You turned it to see its back and noticed variations in the blue, stains of a darker shade, and saw that your nails were now indigo, all of them in a sharp shape, just like…

Just like Sukuna’s nails. A curse’s nails.

You gasped at the memory of his warning. This was what supposed to happen in case you didn’t accept the result of the enchantment. You looked again at your palms and saw no cut nor wound that the branches could cause to a human’s delicate skin – yours were intact, as expected from a resistant curse’s body part. You rolled up your dress’ sleeves to see if your arms were blue as well and observed in horror as the slow transformation reached them.

You adjusted the sleeves and stopped looking. There was no use in desperation. You adjusted the cloak around you and crossed your arms around yourself, accepting the punishment.

- For someone who was so determined just one day before, you do not seem so happy now… child.

His voice grew from the depths of the forest and reached you as if it vibrated by its own will, shaking every nerve you had in you, waking you up to the darkness of your new reality.

You turned to find the King of Curses in the middle of the clearing, just like the first time you’ve met, but now the day was still there above you, with no sign of the red shadows of the summoning. That could only mean one thing: he hasn’t left after the treaty; instead, he remained in those lands, perhaps observing you while you were unconscious or waiting for the next events in the village to take place.

Having him witnessing your downfall in all its bitter details disgusted you in a way you didn’t think to be possible. Still, you found strength to give him a verbal response.

- Haven’t you had enough fun by now? – and after a gasp – Why are you still here?

Sukuna shrugged, not even a little upset by your hostile reception.

- I was just passing by and happened to meet you again – he raised an eyebrow –I am surprised to see that you are still here, to be honest. I thought you have left these lands yesterday. This is the reason why you wanted the enchantment, is not it?

Before you could formulate an answer, he approached and lowered his four eyes to your hands; you clenched your fists and tried to hide them behind your back as a last attempt to save your dignity, but your move was ignored by him, who passed his hands around you and brought yours to his sight, examining their skin with simulated preoccupation. You gave up on any attempt to pull them back: though there was no harshness in the way he was holding them, you knew he had enough strength to break them in such case, or cut them off with the same easiness he has cut the stripe of your cloak or the lock of your hair.

- So it is happening already? – he frowned while caressing them with his thumbs, speaking more to himself than to you – So soon…

- Soon?! – you spat the word – Are you telling me you deceived me?!

Sukuna’s gaze turned to you in surprise at this accusation.

- What do you mean, brat?

- I gave you back the jewel my father stole from you and didn't ask for anything near its price in return, and yet look at me now!

- You knew that I was going to… that this was going to happen to me anyway… is this what you’re telling me, right?

- Hm?

His carefree manners were making you more and more furious and desperate.

- What did I do for you to deceive me like this?!

- Who said I deceived you? – he sighed – I thought you were smarter than this, dear. I was honest with you in our whole treaty. The seal was established according to the rules and the enchantment worked as well. Otherwise you would not have noticed any difference or, in a worst hypothesis, you would have died in the process. Well, not even I would be here in such case. If I broke the rules, I would be punished. You must know that.

You fell silent. That was true: in the Jujutsu world, if two individuals established a pact, both of them were under the obligation to respect the rules of the said pact, otherwise they would be punished – with death in the case of a human and with exorcism in the case of a curse. Still, you were convinced that something was wrong with your own deal.

- It cannot be…

You felt your eyes burning, full with tears that you weren’t able to contain. The weight of what you have done has reached you at last, and from it you couldn’t escape. But were you capable of carrying it? You doubted that.

You felt his hand wiping the tears of your cheek.

- Shhh… No more whining, dear – he lifted your chin to make you meet his gaze – Now, tell me what is going on... What is it that is upsetting you so much regarding the enchantment?

You were impatient, of course, but didn't offer any resistance. You spoke all at once before your voice could crack in a new burst of desperation.

- I came back to the village and found out that the only person who was able to see me was my father. No one else remembers me. And this situation made him insane… – you sobbed – Tell me, how is this possible?!

He giggled and assumed the tone of a Jujutsu teacher.

- You want me to confirm what you are not willing to tell yourself even in thoughts? Alright. I think I can do this for you. You know the rules as well as I do. If someone does not love you, they will forget about your existence. If they do, they will remember you, whether they are the only one in this case or not – and then, he had nothing for you now besides the logical conclusion of the case – So, if your father is the only one who can see you now… He must be the only one who loves you.

[personuhh]

So... would you rather recommend Persona 4 or Persona 4 Golden to someone who's never played it?

This is a difficult question to answer, because if you're starting with the original Persona 4, you might get scared off by its significantly harder combat; it can be very punishing sometimes, and my absolute #1 recommendation if you choose to play it over Golden is PLAY IT ON BEGINNER. You'll be given 10 Moon Tsukubame that allow you to restart a battle if Yu is knocked out (which you'll definitely need), even if you plan on grinding and are confident with your JRPG experience, there are plenty of occasions where I've been 1hko-ed by stupid instant death skills and had to replay hours of a dungeon. The only places to save in P4 dungeons are in the lobby before you enter a dungeon, and just before the boss, and this means that you can lose up to 10 floors if you die. On the other hand, Golden allows you to restart from the beginning of a floor.

There are also some other combat balancing changes like Naoto having other elemental skills aside from mudo/hama that makes them a more viable pick against bosses, some enemies are easier and have elemental weaknesses when they didn't before, shuffle time is (i think) worse and takes a little bit longer after battle to complete as well.

TLDR; the combat in Golden is obviously improved quite a bit, and that's the biggest thing going for it aside from added content.

But I played through the original Persona 4 just fine on beginner, you just have to be a little bit more careful.

Now for the pros to the original Persona 4; you DEFINITELY get a much more satisfyingly paced game, it's far shorter, and you don't have to worry about any extra fanservicey Golden scenes (that you can easily find on YouTube after you're finished OGP4 if you're interested).

I much prefer Chie and Teddie's original voices, and though I didn't mention it much in that Golden Yosuke analysis post, the voice acting and direction seems to be a LOT better in P4 than P4G (it's noticeable when you encounter a Golden-exclusive scene, characters sound... different, particularly Yosuke who's voice seems to raise each time Yuri reprises the role). When I played through P4 I didn't mind Teddie, but something about his new voice acting/direction grates on my nerves and makes him way less likeable – I believe it's because his original voice actor played him as the way he was supposed to originally come across (naïve) instead being more in line with what Golden made him into (a pervert). And maybe it's just me, but I think the initial decision to have him speak in a higher pitched voice was partially because it made him sound a bit like a squeaky toy – at least that's the impression I got, and it works perfectly in the original, something about Dave Wittenberg's voice really makes him sound like what you'd expect of a toy – but Sam Riegel's Golden Teddie sounds like he's trying to hard to imitate the original performance, and is straining his voice (human Teddie is SIGNIFICANTLY better, his voice gets lower when he's out of the suit and sounds more natural).

Similarly, Chie sounds a lot more aggressive, and it can be hard to take her seriously with how over the top Erin can be at times (again, this is likely the fault of voice direction, and not the voice actress) and especially in the earlier parts of the game, it feels like when she speaks to another character, the tones don't... quite match up (likely due to her new lines being recorded 4 years after the rest of the cast). It's most noticeable when she speaks to Yosuke, because Golden Chie seems to REALLY have it out for him, while in the original she had a little bit more of an "oh you" tone to it. I know plenty of people prefer Erin Fitzgerald's Golden Chie voice, and her performance isn't all bad (she's especially great in the anime and spinoffs), but Tracey Rooney's Chie just works better in the original game.

So... Original P4 has less overall content, but the quality of said content is more consistent. Golden has the benefit of being released in 2012 on a portable system (which is very nice if you have a Vita), so if you choose to play P4 over Golden you will inevitably feel that P4 is a little dated without combat improvements, but if you DO finish P4 and decide to go through Golden for the extra content, you get a lot of new things to experience (including 2 new Social Links with Marie and Adachi, the ability to explore the shopping district at night and speak to friends about current events, added cutscenes, several new months to play through near the end of the game, etc.) but you'll also have played through the original and gotten to experience the main story as it was originally written.

Some other small changes: resolution is now up to 720p or 1080i (P4G) from 480p (P4), the UI is slightly different (text boxes), P4G looks much more vibrant and clear than the original's more natural colours, including the sprites which now have a bright, yellowish hue to them to match Golden's colour palette (I prefer OGP4's palette), all voice lines are much less compressed (P4's sound tinny).

You can also take screenshots on Vita and PC versions of Golden; unless you're emulating OGP4 on PC or have a capture card, you obviously can't take screenshots of the original PS2 version of P4.

If you have the patience, I would suggest both (especially since it's easy to emulate the original Persona 4 by this point and I have a full guide to setting up the emulator at the top of my blog, with the rom also included, so you can try it out with relative ease) but don't take my thoughts as definitive, because it all really comes down to personal taste. Many people play through Golden and love it, having no problems with the things I've mentioned (I'm a picky bitch), and you might too. If you're that turned off of what I've said about combat in P4 you can always watch a playthrough and then go through Golden yourself too.

[tartagilicious]

recollection / shaw bai

did I write a fic for someone we’ve interacted with twice? yes. // w.c: 1.9k // requested by @bridgetysm​

[cloud boy by sabby sousa]

— 

“___!”

A familiar, shockingly loud voice filled my ears, startling my eyes into focus. I remember that day almost as if it were yesterday, the unnatural feeling of blood pooling in my mouth and beneath the bruises on my forehead so vivid that I could conjure it up even now.

But, another thing that still stands untouched in my memory, is Shaw’s expression in that first moment, clear in the haze of the evening sky. The first face I’d seen in days after being ambushed on my way home from work somehow felt like a new one, his fearful expression even startling me at first. It was uncharacteristic, the way his normally slack face was taut with concern, and how his amber eyes seemed to be drowning in a type of panic I didn’t know he knew how to feel.

But the relief I felt when locking eyes with the very man I’d been hoping to see -- it was still immeasurable.

His breathing had been loud and laboured, but there wasn’t a single part of me that minded, because the slight breeze on my forehead as he worked to untie the bonds I'd been constricted to was all I needed to be reminded that I wasn’t alone anymore.

“You’re safe,” Shaw finally said this after the thin rope fell to the ground, his voice much softer than I had been expecting. “Thank god.”

Something changed that day for both of us. Whether it was in the tender way he touched my beaten skin, or how he stayed by my side that night without a word, I’m not sure. But I don’t find myself wishing it’d never happened, so I can’t say it exactly turned things for the worst.

It was difficult beforehand, and no less annoying to have such a resource at the tip of my fingers that was yet simultaneously so unreachable. I knew that I should’ve known better than to let someone like him into my life, especially in a world where placing trust in someone could mean certain death. But against my better judgement, I decided to stick with him. I made a gamble and chose to have faith in the man whose presence practically reeked of trouble -- in every part of him from the heavy steps of his doc martens up to that cocky smile of his that seemed permanent.

And, likely to the surprise of us both, it wasn’t a waste.

In the beginning, I took his words seriously only because they were all I had. But now, I take them as they are because I’d found a genuine bond in someone I had never expected much from. And truthfully, I expected very little after his spiel the first time we’d met in this winter world, so I admired his willingness to climb out of the hole he’d dug himself into.

I just never thought my admiration would spiral.

Shaw is by no means perfect. He mocks and he teases without a hint of trepidation, he’s never clear, and barely lends his help without being cryptic about it first. But, he also always somehow manages to pop up when I need him, too. He listens better than most, and knows how to joke around until my stomach hurts from laughing too hard.

He gives me a true sense of the term tough love, that’s for sure.

But, it’s not a feeling I can bring myself to hate. Because no matter the roadblocks our situation may place in front of us, a glance into his smiling eyes is always enough to drag me back down to earth -- and I’m grateful for that.

It’s still not an easy feat loving someone like him, though. Shaw is barely ever caught being serious, whether it be in truth or in those he sides with, and it’s admittedly frustrating. The reasons can change per the day, but my insecurity around him all trails back to the same thing:

the fear that he isn’t serious with me.

Relationships can vary greatly, especially when looking at them from a romantic versus friendly standpoint. But in my case, I was pinned with the unceremonious task to watch out for both. Shaw is a wild card in almost any group he chooses to throw himself into, and it didn’t take me long to realise that the same ideal didn’t stop at me.

I’ve spent countless nights awake wondering if his number would still be in my phone the next morning. Hours trying to comb through what I’d said to him that day, and trying to figure out if any of it would upset him enough to make him leave.

But every time, all I’m met with the next morning is the same unchanging arrogant smile, blissfully unaware of all the turmoil I had gone through in preparation to see it again.

This same cycle goes on irritatingly for weeks, and between the stress of Shaw and everything else, my inner scale feels like it’s a hair’s length away from malfunctioning. He should be the least of my problems, but the punk had somehow managed to claw himself to the top of the list anyway.

“Something happen this morning to make you upset, little girl?” Shaw garners my attention with a very true-to-self line. “Or is that just your face?”

I turn to him with a doubtful look, trying to contain my smile. “If you think that’s the case, Shaw, then something’s been coming and ruining my mornings for weeks now.”

Even after copious signs of something changing for the better, Shaw continued to inadvertently push everything aside. With only a signature smug smile, of course.

“Hey, you’re going about it all wrong!” Shaw had tsked at me once for not taking his advice, but still helped me recuperate regardless of his tone.“You’d be running around like a chicken with their head cut off at this rate without me.”

But nothing can go on forever.

“You’re not seriously thinking of going alone, are you?”

Shaw says this to me one night after visiting to warn me of the black cabin’s movement, his expression so oddly incredulous that I almost try to reach up to rub my eyes. I’m caught off guard, and it’s easy to tell when I don’t respond, but Shaw takes my surprise and still continues as naturally as can be.

“You couldn’t ever find it by yourself. Not now, probably not in a hundred years.” It’s obvious that his tone is slightly mocking, but a hopeful part of me wants to believe that he’s still worried nonetheless.

I sigh and turn away, mumbling, “How nice of you to think so.”

He sets his hands down on the kitchen island, putting his full weight down and somehow still managing to look right at home in a place he barely visits. I notice him shrug limply from where I stand next to him, and can’t help the way my heart lurches.

he’s making fun of me again, isn’t he?

I resist the urge to bite down on my lip, fearing that it’ll draw more attention than needed.

“I’m just saying.” He begins with a type of smile that has me preparing for the worst, turning his head to look me in the eye. “Besides, it’s real nice having me around to help, you can’t deny that.”

I find myself answering the question privately in my head, but outwardly, I just roll my eyes and ask, “Maybe now, but probably not for much longer. I doubt you’ll still need me once we’re back in the real world, anyway.”

He doesn’t answer. I think I even catch him hesitating for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a somehow more gentle smile.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, little girl. That observation of yours only further proves that you’re gonna need as much help as you can get.” He stands up straighter as he speaks, even going as far as to stretch casually.

I give him a look. My delusional heart can’t help but want to stop and selfishly fish out a double meaning to his words, but I go on anyway. “What, so I’m wrong? But even if I am, how am I supposed to know what’s ever running through that head of yours? You still barely tell me anything.”

“Try a bit harder, ___. Same as always. What you know is dependent on your decisions alone.”

I begin to shake my head, hesitantly asking, “...And if I don’t?”

Shaw only stares at me.

“Would it matter to you if I stayed the way I am? Weak and unable to do anything alone?”

I know I’m about to cross a barrier. I know, but I don’t stop. I turn to face him anyway, my expression horribly open after weeks of being schooled.

“Or would you leave me too if that happened?” I ask softly, my lips merging into a natural frown as I drop my head. “Like everyone else?”

I go painfully silent as I search for the right words to say, and in the midst of it, Shaw leans down slightly. I look up just as his nose stops inches from mine, the concern in his eyes just as stark as the surprise in my own.

I feel his breath on my face as he murmurs, “____… what’s this about?”

Words catch in my throat as I gage how close he is, and they stay down with every slow rise and fall of my chest. It stretches into a minute where neither of us speak, but I note his evident patience and gather the courage to restart.

“Well... I just want to know. After everything we’ve been through in this world,” I say, looking up to meet his eyes again. “Would details like that matter? Would you still be here even if I one day say that I can’t do it?”

A flurry of emotions swirl through his eyes, but none come forward in his words, so I say something that I hope will be a good push to get what I need to settle the insatiable thrumming of my heart.

“I don’t know if something like that would really matter to you, but to me, it’s everything. It’s my only connection to you.”

Shaw gulps.

“It’s-- it’s not. Don’t talk like that.”

“How is it not?” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I love you, okay? I love you, Shaw, but I don’t even know whose side you’re on half the time, so why should I have the nerve to think you’ll stay on mine?”

He doesn’t speak, but hesitantly, he reaches up as his thumb comes up to collect the tears that adorn my cheeks, the leather of his fingerless gloves leaving a soft warmth in its wake.

“That sense,” Shaw trails off, his lips slightly parted as his eyes trail down. “It’s well placed, but... unneeded this time.”

I am only given seconds to grasp what he’s said before he maneuvers his hand to support my chin and my mind goes blank. I’m still trying to catch up when he presses his lips to mine, carefully, as if he doesn’t want to startle me.

I feel the tight ball in my chest suddenly release as my frame relaxes, much to his obvious delight, as I kiss back. I had never quite found enough courage to think about what his kisses would feel like, but now I realise that anything I could’ve imagined wouldn’t even come close.

It feels like only seconds before we part again, both of us panting as we cling loosely to each other’s clothing.

“Because I’ll always be on your side, whether you like it or not.”

I let out a small laugh, the look in my eyes softening as I meet his. I see something unfamiliar swimming through his eyes, but somehow, I’m still eager to explore it.

“Then I'll take your word for it.”

[read more of my works here~]

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

TPWP Chapter 20 spoilers!!

Like with chapter 19, chapter 20 also has explicit sexual content, so this is a summary of those scenes. :-) 

Summary below the cut: 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 20 summary

 Taka and Mondo sit beside one another on Mondo’s couch, pressed tightly together like usual, but with an obvious tension between them. Mondo then begins moving his hands over Taka’s body, which visibly excites Taka, indicating he knows exactly what is about to happen. 

 Mondo confirms this a moment later when he whispers to Taka, asking if Taka wants to ‘relieve some tension,’ which Taka immediately agrees to, shifting to accommodate Mondo. Taka is still pretending to watch the movie, though he is focused solely on Mondo and on the feel of his hands all over him, trailing his body leisurely. They shift so Taka is leaning against Mondo’s chest, Taka not facing Mondo. Mondo asks breathily if Taka wants this, and Taka replies that yes. Yes, he really does. 

 The scene shifts back a bit here, Taka thinking about how wrong he’d been about Mondo never wanting to be intimate with him again, recalling an event that happened two days after their first time on Tuesday night. 

 Taka recalls that he’d been growing tense again, the looseness he’d gotten after their last encounter now fully gone. He had tried to handle his arousal himself but found that he was still unable to do it. He was too embarrassed to look up his issue, and he refused to think of Mondo, thinking that it would be immoral on his part, so he was a bit stuck. 

 Mondo noticed the mounting tension, though, but mostly ignored it. Until Tuesday night, two days after their first encounter. They had been in bed, almost sleeping (Taka facing away from Mondo like he’d been doing since that night), when Mondo’s hand had started moving from his abdomen down to his hip, hovering over his privates. And then Mondo had said, softly, that Taka has been pretty tense the last few days, before offering to ‘help.’ 

 Taka had half been sure he was dreaming but was very much keen for it. He agreed immediately, not really caring the consequences this may bring. 

 (Sexual bit starts here)

 With Taka’s agreement, Mondo immediately began to touch Taka through his clothes. Mondo then told Taka that if he wanted to stop, he would stop, no matter what. Taka agreed, and then Mondo slipped his hand below his underwear and begins touching him for real. 

 Taka enjoyed the treatment very much, but he tried to stifle his noises since he didn’t want to spook Mondo. But then Mondo told him that it was fine, that he wanted to hear Taka’s noises, which allowed Taka to let go. 

 The noises clearly excited Mondo as he began to go faster, both of them very much into the actions they were doing. Taka was still holding back, though, still so unsure about everything and what was going on. 

 But then Mondo began to bite him. Gently, but with purpose. And then he’d began speaking again, encouraging Taka to let go and scream with his release. 

 The words did their job and Taka did as commanded, letting go happily. The pair basked in the afterglow for a moment before Mondo removed his hand from Taka’s underwear gently. But then, for reasons Taka didn’t understand, Mondo brought his dirtied hand up to Taka’s mouth. And Taka, still for reason he didn’t understand, licked the fingers. Taka found this very gross and weird, but Mondo clearly liked it. And since Mondo liked it, Taka kept going, wanting to help Mondo reach his release too. 

 However, before that happened, Mondo pulled his fingers away from Taka, stopping the gentle movement of his hips against Taka’s, clearly still aroused but not doing anything about it. This confused and kind of hurt Taka, who felt a little rejected, but then Mondo kissed his shoulder and pulled him close so they could go to sleep. Very tired, Taka decided to not question this and managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. He noticed in the morning that Mondo had bags underneath his eyes and looked tired, indicating that Mondo hadn’t slept. 

 (Sexual bit ends around here. A little earlier, but you get the picture.)

 Taka felt very confused, especially since they still didn’t talk about the progression of their relationship. Mondo had offered again to talk about it all, but Taka had refused, mainly because he didn’t want to rock the boat. He wasn’t even sure if it would ever happen again, since it was only twice, after all. 

 But then… they did it again. And then again. In all, over the ten days since that first time, they’d done sexual things together four times, with the current actions being their fifth. The other two times are not explicitly mentioned, but it is indicated that they followed the pattern of their second encounter, though they happened at different times of the day. Always while in Mondo’s room, of course. This leads Taka back to the current going ons, focusing back on Mondo and his present actions. 

 (Sexual bit restarts here)

 After Taka’s acceptance (this goes back to the part before the flashback), Mondo chuckles and cups Taka more firmly in his hand. Taka impatiently moves against Mondo, prompting the biker to slip his hand underneath his underwear again. This pleases Taka greatly. 

 Mondo is going slower that day, like he’s more teasing Taka than anything, before he stops entirely, to Taka’s displeasure. When Taka looks behind him to look at Mondo and see what’s wrong, he sees a concentrated look. This concerns Taka for many reasons, and he shakily asks if Mondo is alright. This jolts Mondo from his reverie, and Mondo confesses that he wants to try something new with Taka, who agrees, trusting Mondo entirely. 

 (Sexual bit kind of ends here)

 This makes Mondo smile and kiss Taka’s neck gently, before he gets off the couch saying he’ll need lubricant and that Taka should remove his trousers. 

 Taka does as Mondo asks, removing his jacket and dress shirt as well, thinking about how they have unspecified ‘plans’ later and he wouldn’t want to ruin his uniform and need another one that day. He also drapes a towel over the couch for obvious reasons. 

 Before long Mondo has returned and is behind Taka again, a favored position of his. Mondo again tells Taka to tell him if he wants to stop, to which Taka promises he will, before urging Mondo to continue. This makes Mondo laugh and reprimand him gently, saying that he should teach Taka a lesson in patience one day, claiming it can feel better if the acts are drawn out. 

 (Sexual bit resumes here)

 With the lubricant on his fingers, Mondo then slips his hand back under Taka’s underwear. To Taka’s shock, Mondo doesn’t grab him like he had earlier, but instead keeps going back to Taka’s behind, pressing his finger against him. 

 Taka thinks about how it doesn’t feel bad but is just foreign to him, since he’s never done that to himself. Mondo picks up on Taka’s unease and offers another out, which Taka declines. While he’s a bit intimidated and doesn’t know how it will make him feel pleasure, he trusts Mondo and his assurance that he’ll like it. Taka is a bit overwhelmed by Mondo’s kindness and care towards him, but he swallows it down and prompts Mondo to continue. 

 Mondo agrees and prompts Taka to relax so it won’t hurt as much. Taka does, his legs spread. Mondo tells Taka that he’s going to press into him now, and that it may hurt at first, but it should fade soon. And if it doesn’t, or if it hurts a lot, to tell Mondo. 

 And then Mondo is pressing inside. Taka finds the sensation weird at first, not pleasurable, and is just thinking that when Mondo reaches his sweet spot and pleasure floods Taka. Mondo is very pleased by the reaction, but Taka can barely think, feeling very impatient and needy. Mondo teases Taka about it and almost lets slip that he wants Taka again, but he saves it by saying he wants Taka to experience what is happening and indicates that going slower is better. 

 Taka begrudgingly agrees and waits for Mondo to move again. It takes him a moment, but soon Mondo is, and soon after that they create a nice rhythm, Taka leaning back to bury his face in Mondo’s neck. Emboldened by his arousal, he gently kisses Mondo’s neck. He then bites when Mondo moans and exposes more of his neck. Taka finds biting Mondo to be highly erotic and does it again and again, Mondo vocally enjoying the sensation. Mondo says that Taka feels good and calls Taka perfect, asking rhetorically what he did to deserve someone as incredible as Taka. 

 Mondo then presses another finger inside and Taka finds that he wants more. He wants everything. And with how far gone he is, he can’t quite force himself to stop his desire. 

 Mondo then mutters that he loves what they’re doing and finally lets slip that he wants Taka, saying Taka has no idea how much he does. 

 And Taka… as far gone as he is, he can’t quite stop what he says. 

 “I’m yours, I’m yours, Mondo, I- I... I’m yours. I belong to you, I want no one else, I- I want... M-Mondo, I w-want...” 

 These words are not what Mondo wants to hear, though, and he freezes instantly against him, breathing heavily. Taka doesn’t realize something is wrong just yet and bites Mondo to spur him on, which works. Mondo continues his ministrations, but he’s slower this time, more purposeful. Taka is so far gone that he almost doesn’t register what Mondo says next. But eventually he does. And it makes his heart ache. 

 “... no, ya don’t. Don’t belong ta me, shit, Kiyo... ya deserve so much more, so much more than a piece a’ shit like me. Y-you... you deserve so much more. I’d just fuck everythin’ up, I always do. I’m tryin’ so hard ta not fuck this up too, I wanna make ya feel good, but I can’t... shit, man. An’ I’m not gay, I’m fuckin’ /not/, so I can’t... I can’t be what ya’d need me ta be. An’ I just... I’m sorry. I really... shit. I’m just... sorry.”

 The words hurt Taka so much, more than he could ever say, but then Mondo is continuing, and Taka is unable to think about it any longer as pleasure takes over. He shoves the pain aside and just lets himself gets washed away by the sensation. 

 Mondo adds another finger and Taka looks down to watch, even though he knows he won’t be able to see anything thanks to his underwear. But then Mondo is grabbing him with his other hand, pushing his underwear down enough that Taka can see what is happening. And Mondo is watching too, Taka realizes. It’s that thought that pushes Taka over the edge. Mondo’s fingers stay inside Taka for a few moments more, before leaving gently. Mondo kisses Taka’s shoulder again but says nothing.

 ~~~

And scene! That’s the end of the smut for this chapter. :-) 

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

As a drama/performance student who’s hoping to go into acting, let me just say right now that Rachel Berry would never have made it on Broadway.

Oh, she has talent and there’s no denying that. But so do so many other girls and boys. You can’t make it in the business based on talent alone - you don’t get to become a success immediately, you have to work your way up and prove that you’re right for a role or for success. You have to work hard and always remember to keep learning.

That was something that was taught to us very early on in drama - no matter who you are or where you come from, whether you’re an amateur student or a success movie star, you can ALWAYS learn. You should always be challenging yourself and learning. You should always strive to improve and better yourself whenever possible.

Rachel never seemed to want to do that. She got into NYADA (after stalking the dean, which is something else I’ll go into in a minute) and then quit before finishing her education to do Funny Girl - which she then quit to do a TV show that failed. First of all, a casting director is going to take one look at this behavior and immediately decide “no - she cannot commit”. You don’t abandon your studies or the role you do have just because something that’s only maybe better comes along. Obviously many great actors do TV shows and pilots that fail, that’s not my issue - my issue with Rachel is that she never put the work in. It was always the bare minimum. “Oh, I’ve done a year and a half of studying at the best arts academy in NY, I don’t need to study anymore because I got one part on stage” - it does NOT work like that. She couldn’t commit which is a risky behavior in ANY job.

Part of being an actor or performer is criticism - you are ALWAYS subject to criticism. You will NEVER make it in the business if you can’t handle that criticism. Rachel would throw bitch fits and sob and play the victim EVERY SINGLE TIME someone made the slightest criticism of her.

Let’s delve deeper - first, Cassandra July.

Yes, Miss July was a bit mean and rude - but she’s a professor at a top NY arts academy. If you get into a top arts academy like NYADA is in the show, you are not there to fuck around - anyone who gets in has to be committed 100% to their studies, both practical and theoretical. Cassandra July is not there to baby the students and lift their egos - she is there to train and prepare them for the harsh reality of seeking a career in the arts.

In the very first episode of S4, on her first day in class, Rachel shows blatant disrespect to a professor by rolling her eyes. You do not do that to a professor in any subject, let alone a dance teacher. If you can’t respect your teachers or the people who you are learning from, you should not seek a career in the arts. This also goes for ANYONE you work with; if you work with a director or actor on a play or on a TV show, for example, you should always seek to learn from them, even if it’s something small. 

If you are studying the arts, especially at a level where they’re preparing you to be professional actors/singers/dancers, they HAVE to be hard on you. Hell, I didn’t even go to drama school but my drama teachers were always brutally honest with me. They made it clear that “Megan, you HAVE to be louder”, “you MUST learn your lines and practice without a script”, “your accents are terrible”, “don’t just stand there and recite lines! Move!” Etc. Etc. It may be harsh but Cassandra has to be brutally honest so that the kids know what they’re in for; yeah, they’ll get told that their noses are too big for a part. Yeah, they’ll be told “you need to drop a few pounds” or that they’re ugly, etc. It’s sad but true.

“Your pique turns are sloppy” - she’s literally pointing out to Rachel something to improve on. Sure, it’s not the nicest way but no one should be at a performing arts school and expecting nice.

Rachel’s disrespect of a teacher/professional continued for the whole time Cassandra July was on the show. She called her teacher out, was extremely rude and said “you’re jealous because we all have careers and yours is over”, so on so forth. I’m pretty sure if you were actually attending a drama school or performing arts academy, and you had the nerve to turn around and say that, you would be expelled and tossed on your ass before you could utter another word.

If a teacher says “I don’t think you’re ready to do the tango/for this part”, you should listen. They’ve been in the business for a LONG time, far longer than you have, and with loads more experience. The best you can do is listen and decide to study harder and better yourself. Rachel flatout ignored this advice and went ahead anyway because she wanted to be the Star NOW, no hard work or struggle or patience to be seen.

Let’s just say this; you don’t go to the dean of the uni/college and call one of the professors “a lunatic”.

Now Carmen Tibideaux:

For a start, Rachel choked her audition - it’s bizarre and ridiculous that she got in. She didn’t get in on her audition, but because she stalked and harassed Carmen until the dean gave in and came to watch her. In real life, if you fuck that audition up, that is it. You don’t get another chance until the following year when you apply again (and yes, it’s common to apply for drama schools multiple times until you get in - some people who go on to be successful actors have been known to audition as many as SEVEN times).

Realistically, Tibideaux should have not given Rachel that chance because she didn’t deserve it. No other candidate got that chance - in real life, no matter how talented an auditionee is, NO ONE is given more of a chance than anyone else. Everyone is judged on their audition, that’s it. Rachel may be talented but there are many others just as talented and even MORE so than her.

Also, Tibideaux could have in fact had a restraining order against Rachel. This crazy little girl turns up again and again like a complete twat, begging and pleading and just not understanding that she had her chance, she can have another chance NEXT year. I’d have seriously filed some kind of motion against Rachel, as I’m sure any other teacher or head would.

Despite the fact that Tibideaux gave Rachel chance after chance, Rachel was still rude and frankly ungrateful. Tibideaux makes valid points that Rachel is underperforming in EVERY single class. She’s not making an effort to be a part of the NYADA community.

If the dean of your college says that, you do NOT argue back. You do NOT attempt to say “I’m doing great, I’ve handled everything this school has thrown at me”. Rachel’s delusions of herself and her talent are laughable.

I could have applauded Carmen Tibideaux for turning around and telling Rachel how it is: “You are not the first supernova to come through here. You are talented, you have drive. What you don’t have, is you have no foundation. You don’t listen, and you don’t take direction. That’s why you need NYADA. You’re not ready.”

You can’t just expect to be fresh out of school or college and getting the fucking lead in hit Broadway shows. You start as ensemble, you learn, you work your way up. Rachel was too selfish and full of herself to do that. Also, the fact that she cannot listen to criticism or take direction screams that a director would NEVER hire her. She can’t take direction, and that will get her nowhere in her career. You have to listen, you have to collaborate and listen to everyone’s ideas as well as contributing your own.

The actual fucking nerve of a Rachel Berry saying “you’re wrong and I’m gonna prove it to you” - she would be out on her ass and never hired again, never accepted into an arts academy again. If someone older, wiser and more experienced tells you something, you LISTEN.

As an actor myself, we don’t do all of this hard work to be famous (at least, not those of us who actually love our work) - we go through student debt, years of no sleep, years of constant rehearsals, of being in the background waiting for our turn, of learning and honing and crafting our skills so that we can maybe one day do the thing we love most professionally. We actors/dancers/singers/performers are storytellers - we try to craft something meaningful or to tell a story we feel needs telling.

Carmen said something very true and on point: “do you care about the work or is it just about the spotlight?” Rachel never cared about the work - she never cared about being a storyteller or creating art. To her, it was all about the fame and attention.

Some other things:

After quitting, especially in the way she did, Rachel would definitely not be allowed to continue her studies where she left them at NYADA, if at all. At best, she would audition and get in the following academic year, and have to start from the bottom again. Most likely, however, she would not be allowed to study there again.

People in the industry talk. If Rachel was hard to work with when with even a few people, it would seriously damage her chances of being hired again. They would immediately throw away her resumé.

Even her choked audition was fucking irritating as a performer - if you screw up your lines or forget them or whatever, you don’t stop and ask to go again. You carry on. If you’re on Broadway and you get the words wrong, you cannot ask to start the song again in front of the entire audience. It’s extremely unprofessional. At school, when I did my guitar exams, that was KEY - “if you play the wrong note, do NOT go back and redo it - just keep going. You’ll get more points for carrying on than for doubling back”.

^So Rachel stopping and starting is immediately a no-no. At best, they would let her restart just once - but they would not let her have another chance. Even if she was given another chance and she aced it, the damage is done - she wouldn’t have gotten in.

Kurt aced his audition, didn’t mess up or stop, and didn’t harass the dean of NYADA to make sure he got in - Rachel messed up, stopped, harassed Carmen and was a brat. How the Hell did Rachel get into NYADA but not Kurt?? If Kurt didn’t get in, then Rachel DEFINITELY shouldn’t have, end of story.

In short, Rachel is the worst character and it actually pisses me off how inaccurately she’s written in regards to being at a performing arts academy/her success on Broadway. The writers wanted us to root for her so desperately but I would just skip the majority of scenes she was the focus of because she irritated me that much. If the writers wanted to make us root for her, they should have SHOWN her accepting that she had to start in the background and work her way up. They should have at least not let her get into NYADA.

[charmedtheselfproclaimedking]

Charmed Again: Season 3 (Charmed Fanfic)

Episode 8 - Charmed Condolences (Finale)

Warnings: I don’t own the rights to any of the characters from the hit TV show “Charmed” or the storylines related to the show those rights belong to original creator Constance M Burge.

15+ Moderate/Graphic Displays of Violence, Sexual Innuendos, Witchcraft and Potentially Triggering Scenes.

Many Years Ago

Pan knocked on Paul’s bedroom door before walking in to find him standing next to Drake’s cot while a baby Drake was fast asleep as the two shared a smile before sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“I know mum’s right I know it but it’s going to be so hard saying goodbye.” Paul admitted to his sister. “I know I’m going to have to be selfless and give him the best life I can possible give, but I just don’t want to not see him every day.”

“Listen our mother is purely talking out of fear and I know things are complicated with Eve and everything but I reckon we could all give it a go raising him and with us all there for him he’ll turn out perfect.” Pan suggested.

“She’s not wrong though I mean our Uncle Chris died way too young and we don’t even speak about Uncle Wyatt’s descent into madness that’s not to mention our cousins our entire family let’s face it this whole family is cursed.” Paul revealed. “I don’t want that life for him I want him to be happy, free and to live a long life that let’s face it neither of us are ever really going to have.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Pan said as she hugged into her brother. “I just wish our life didn’t have to be sacrifice after sacrifice.”

“Me too but at least I’ll be happy knowing my son’s life won’t be like ours.” Paul replied.

Present Day

A recently homeward bound Drake walked into the attic of the Halliwell Manor with a look of hurt and heartbreak on his face, this being the first time the Halliwell hybrid had been back home since the deaths of his father Paul Halliwell and his aunt Pan Morgan-Halliwell.

It had only been about a month but for him it felt like a lifetime as he walked over to the book of shadows until he was stood behind the closed book. He paused for a moment reluctant to open it believing it would restart his duties as a charmed one but as often was the case within this house he wasn’t given much choice before the book flipped open by itself continuing to flip by itself through pages after pages until stopping at the to call a lost witch spell.

“Power of the witches rise course unseen across the skies. Come to us who call you near come to us and settle here.” Drake began to chant. “Blood to blood I summon thee blood to blood return to me.”

Drake looked around hoping for a moment he’d be reunited with his father or aunt hoping for a moment this spell would change their fate only for nothing to happen breaking his heart once again.

Somewhere in New York City Penny Craft found herself running down a street alleyway chasing after her bounty a tall bald man who had skipped his court date and just as she was closing in on the perp she suddenly found herself hit in the face by a newspaper that appeared out of nowhere causing her to misstep and fall into a nearby stack of bin bags.

By the time she pulled the newspaper of her and climbed out of the trash her perp was already gone much to her frustration only to find the same newspaper rustling at her feet so she decided the pick up this pestering newspaper and read what it had to say.

“Hey…” She mumbled to herself. “Isn’t that my baby blanket?”

Elsewhere in New York, Rose Craft found herself waking up in a large king size bed wearing just her underwear with a man asleep to her right and a woman asleep to her left as she quietly climbed out of the bed not to wake the couple and began gathering her clothes before making her escape into the hallway once fully clothed before quietly making her way to the apartment door, opening the door to find a newspaper on the doorstep which she quickly picked up and began to read after closing the door and walking into the apartment building’s hallway.

Rose didn’t get very far reading the paper before she noticed the picture of a baby blanket under an article about a missing child which is when she also realized the newspaper itself was dated

“What the hell is going on here?” She asked herself as she pulled her phone out her jacket after stopping outside the apartment building’s elevator before dialing a number and waiting for the person to answer. “We need to talk like straight away.”

The next morning a fully dressed in black Drake found himself stood in the doorway of his father’s bedroom tears falling down his eyes as he investigated a room that no longer held anything but ghosts and memories.

“I miss him too, but I can’t begin to fathom what you must be feeling right now Drake.” Raven said to him after shimmering into the room and taking a seat on Paul’s bed. “We should’ve taken the premonition more seriously, but they had so many like that they were convinced they could handle it all.”

“I know I guess we all got kind of a little too confident with all this.” Drake admitted as he dried his eyes and walked over to Raven before sitting down next to her. “The power of three made us believe we would survive anything together, but I guess even being charmed doesn’t guarantee you’re safe.”

“I wish I had done something reacted faster we just never imagined it’d be a human let alone one who came with loaded anti-magic bullets I mean I knew there was anti-magic objects in the world but nothing like this.” Raven cried as Drake grabbed a hold of her hand. “I wanted to save them both so badly Drake but once Lacey’s healing didn’t work on them it was only a matter of time.”

“There was nothing that you could do if only I was there…” Drake began to say.

“No if you were there you probably would’ve just wound up dead too the only saving grace in all of this is you live on that’s all your father wanted for you to be safe.” Raven butted in, determined to make sure Drake never blamed himself. “None of this is anyone’s fault except for the bitch who shot them.”

“You’re right.” Drake replied as he pulled a crying Raven in for a hug. “Well the bitch who shot them and the one who hired her to do so.”

“Yes, but sadly Lacey got a bit too trigger happy to ask those kinds of questions.” Raven revealed to Drake as they broke off their hug. “Cole’s currently chasing a lead with a seer down in the Underworld hopefully we’ll get some answers even if there’s nothing we can really do with those answers unless demons are hiring humans to do their dirty work now.”

“Yeah well I guess with the whole charmed being reborn yet again maybe one of them will get a premonition that’ll get whoever did this with some magical solution on how to deal with them in the process.” Drake told his late father’s grieving girlfriend.

“Wait, are you seriously going to go ahead with restoring the power of three?” Raven asked in shock as she stood up. “You already restored the power of three and got no thanks for it you don’t owe them anything.”

“I know that’s not true but they need three to complete the set and I know the amount of good we can do and I can’t be the reason that good doesn’t happen because then whoever killed my dad and Pan will really win.” Drake answered as he stood up to face Raven.

“I still can’t believe my lovely receptionist Patty Craft was Paul and Pan’s long-lost sister Patience all this time I mean she was so close to us all before she died…I can’t believe her two daughters are going to be charmed ones.” Raven admitted. “That sort of makes your dad and his siblings the real second generation’s answer to the charmed ones and you are your cousins the third.”

“Yeah I suppose it does I never really thought of it like that��too busy trying to get my ass out of jail before getting busy with all this funeral stuff.” Drake explained to her. “Then there’s the club, my father’s shares in Halliwell and Turner not to mention Pan and his belongings and the whole Lacey going on a killing spree thing.”

“You have already dealt with more than anyone should ever have to deal with it’s okay to be done with it all Drake.” Raven told him as she grabbed a hold of his hand once more. “In fact, getting as far away from Charmed, living your own life and taking Lilah as far away from all this would make your father and probably your aunt happy to see.”

“Try telling that to the rest of the world that needs the charmed ones trust me I want nothing more than to hang up the broomstick and spell book and leave this never-ending misery spiral, but I can’t be selfish.” Drake said before taking a sad sigh.

“Leave it with me!” Raven responded with a cunning smile. “I’ll be back before the funeral I’m going to find a way for you to be as selfish as you want to be.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Drake asked to no answer as Raven shimmered away.

“I was in two minds whether to drop the kid off today or tomorrow, but I figured after your little prison stint you’d be needing our daughter right about now.” Cindy said to Drake as he walked into his bedroom to find Cindy sitting on the side of his bed while his daughter Lilah sat on her lap clearly excited to see her father. “Don’t worry I’ll sit tight with her in the Manor while you attend the funeral.”

“Oh my god daddy has missed you so much.” Drake told his baby girl as he walked towards Lilah and picked her up into his arms, his face lighting up to see his child after such a long time. “Daddy is never letting you go ever again.”

“You do realize mama is right here too you know.” Cindy reminded the Halliwell hybrid as she stood up to face him and their daughter. “I should at least get a hello or something.”

“Hey....I’m sorry I was just so excited to see my girl.” Drake replied before kissing his daughter on the forehead. “Thanks, I really needed some daddy time today it’s good to see you too.”

“I know I’m not one for the whole emotion thing but I’m deeply sorry about Paul and Pan I know how much family means to you if it helps I could totally kill whoever hired the hit I know you’re pure and killing isn’t your thing but I’ve always kind of been on the grey-scale.” Cindy offered him.

“Thanks Cindy but getting people to kill for me still means I got blood on my hands.” Drake laughed.

“Okay I totally won’t kill for you.” Cindy said sarcastically before winking at Drake.

“I mean it don’t kill anybody you’re doing good with the whole redemption thing the last thing Lilah needs is for any of us to go out killing people.” Drake warned her as he continued to hug into his daughter.

“Ugh…fine.” Cindy sighed. “I won’t get any blood on my or your hands.”

“Finally, I was beginning to think elders were still putting all of us demons on mute.” Raven said after Quinn orbed onto the top of the golden gate bridge to meet her.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss Miss Turner especially in your condition.” Quinn apologised to her. “It’s killing Paul that he’s not going to be there for you and your child but take some solace in knowing he is watching over you.”

“Thank you I had a theory he wouldn’t be able to miss all of this…listen I need your help with Drake and it’s going to involve breaking a few rules.” Raven replied to him. “And before you say no I want to remind you that Paul and Pan treated you like family that Drake loved you that…”

“What is it that you want me to do?” Quinn asked, interrupting the pregnant demon.

“Well at first I was going to ask for you to go back in time and stop them both from dying but then I realized destiny wouldn’t allow it because they believe it’s time for another set of charmed ones then I was going to ask you bring them back but death wouldn’t allow that either so I guess all I can do is ask that you help me protect Paul’s children and granddaughter like he would want us both to do.” Raven informed the elder.

“You’re right about Paul and Pan they were my family and they deserved better than this I want so much to reverse it all and see them alive and happy. For Pan to live a long life with her wife Lacey for the two of them to get the children they wanted and for Pan not to have to watch over without being able to stop her wife killing innocent after innocent.” Quinn admitted to her. “I want for Paul to be alive and be there for Drake and his granddaughter and to be there for you and get to raise his and your child together something I’d know he’d love and most of all I want for Drake to be happy, safe and to never have to face the same fate. So, yes Raven I will help you do whatever is needed elders be damned.”

“Good,” Raven responded with a smile. “Now between the both of us we’re going to find Parker Halliwell."

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you today but I’m glad you’re here.” Drake greeted Jake as he walked downstairs to see Jake waiting for him in the foyer.

“Well with Lacey being MIA on a killing spree I figured there had to be some Morgan family representation besides I figured you’d need as many friends as possible right now.” Jake replied to him.

“We’re friends now? I like that we’re friends now.” Drake said with a sincere smile. “It means a lot that you still care after all this time especially after everything.”

“Of course, I do.” Jake admitted. “Besides thank to you I am now living back at my family home and just got a new job so I can’t stay mad at you forever.”

“Well you could, and no one would blame you, you truly are amazing Jake Morgan.” Drake told him as he gave his first love a hug.

“You’re not so bad yourself Drake Black.” Jake responded as he hugged his first love tighter.

“Actually, it’s Drake Black-Halliwell now I’m changing it to incorporate both of my families.” Drake revealed as he broke off the hug.

“I like it.” Jake told him. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ll be better once I get today over with and work out whatever it is that Raven’s up to.” Drake admitted. “It would be better if everyone would give the notion of Charmed 3.0 a miss until after dad and aunt Pan’s funeral.”

“Hold up what exactly is Charmed 3.0?” Jake wondered. “Actually, never mind I’ll save the questions for later.”

“Thanks,” Drake replied. “We will get a hold of Lacey and we’ll get the old her back I promise.”

“Don’t worry too much about that my new job gives me the kind of resources that should help me track her down and try talking some sense in her…if there’s any her left that is.” Jake revealed to the Halliwell hybrid.

“Okay I’m going to do the same to you and ask about this mysterious new job of yours later but as for Lacey she’s still in there she’s just in a really bad place and needs pulling out of it.” Drake said, trying to reassure Jake. “I mean everyone deals with grief differently and she’s lost a lot not that it makes any of what she’s done okay but we will get her back somehow.”

“I miss optimistic Drake he’s not been around in a long time.” Jake stated with a sincere smile.

Raven and Quinn walked into a seedy looking club located within L.A to find Parker Halliwell brawling with another man within a cage in a caged fight as they quickly joined the crowd of onlookers as they watched Parker fight his opponent a fight to which the Halliwell man was quickly winning.

“Remind me again why this guy didn’t get called for duty in the first place?” Raven asked Quinn as they watched Parker’s impressive moves within the cage.

“He did his time so to speak but then disowned everyone after he fixed the whole Wyatt debacle which makes a lot of sense considering Wyatt was his father.” Quinn explained to Raven.

“I’m beginning to think charmed is really just a fancy way of your kind saying cursed.” Raven replied to the elder. “Oh well so he’s going to be a tough sell lucky for us I’m one hell of a lawyer.”

After watching Parker Halliwell become victorious in his cage match they waited patiently until he went to the locker room to change making sure nobody else was in as they followed him.

“Okay here’s the thing I need you to move back to San Francisco and become the third component to the power of three.” Raven revealed to him as her and Quinn came face to face with Parker. “And please don’t say no due to some daddy issues because quite frankly this generation all have daddy issues, I mean every generation does but you lot definitely cry a lot more about them.”

“Excuse me who the hell are you and what did you just say about charmed?” Parker asked, in shock by Raven’s abruptness. “I don’t know who you two are but charmed died a long time ago and I’m done hearing about it.”

“I’m sorry about my friend’s rash approach but we have a funeral to attend soon and emotions are running rather high.” Quinn said to Parker.

“Okay well your clearly either a white lighter or an elder.” Parker replied to Quinn before turning to Raven. “Who are you?”

“My name is Raven and I’m pregnant with your cousin Paul’s second child, but we are here about his firstborn Drake…he was part of the second generation’s charmed ones along with his father and his aunt Pan but they both dead now.” Raven revealed.

“Paul and Pan are dead?” Parker asked with genuine sadness in his voice. “I really thought they’d survive longer than me.”

“Well they never…” Raven said as tears began forming in her eyes before she began allowing herself to cry. “I held his hand as he died…I witnessed them both die and then Drake came home to their bodies…I should’ve been there to stop that from happening to protect him from seeing that like his father would’ve wanted me to.”

“It’s okay.” Quinn told her as he tried to reassure her with a hug only to be brushed away.

“No it’s not okay none of this are okay Paul and Pan are gone, Lacey’s a soulless killer and now Drake’s being dragged into restoring the power of three yet again and I just know if he does it will be the death of him.” Raven cried.

“I am deeply sorry about Paul and Pan they were great people, but I gave up that life a long time ago and for good reason.” Parker explained to them both as Raven finally allowed Quinn to hug her.

“I know and we have no right coming here to ask you in fact I could be in a lot of trouble by so many people for even asking but the thing is Drake’s adoptive parents died in a fire when he was young, then his best friend’s father died at the hands of demons, his mother was killed and then he vanquished his own grandfather.” Quinn rambled. “Not to mention he was brainwashed by a boyfriend, he found his parent and his aunt dead, he went to jail for their murders and the best friend I mention has gone full dark lighter…”

“That sounds like a…” Parker began to say.

“Charmed life.” Raven interrupted before drying her eyes. “I’m so sorry we came here to try and convince you to live a life that has got your entire family killed and for a moment I was considering kidnapping you and forcing you to take his place but the truth is I can’t force you to suffer the same fate he did.”

“Thanks.” Parker responded to her. “You know being a Halliwell isn’t all loss and heartbreak…I got to do remarkable things, save many lives and most of all grow up in a home literally filled with magic.”

“Then why give it up?” Quinn asked Wyatt Halliwell’s son.

“It required too many sacrifices and I decided it was time to live my life for me…which sure meant saying goodbye to my family but at the time after my father’s descent into darkness I couldn’t deal with being a Halliwell anymore.” Parker opened to them both. “I really am sorry about Paul and Pan they were like siblings to me growing up all our cousins were grams was big on family and so were her sisters we all kind of grew up together.”

“Yes, Paul told me all about you he also told me that you used to love being a witch you know before you bound your white lighter side and went off the map.” Raven replied. “It must say something you never bound your witch half.”

“I wouldn’t read too much into it.” Parker told her.

Drake, Paige, Quinn, Raven and Cole stood at the freshly dug gravesides of Paul Halliwell and Pan Morgan-Halliwell, the only five remaining after the funeral proceedings as Paige stood next to Drake hand in hand while the other three stood behind them.

“Piper’s deeply sorry she couldn’t be here to comfort you, but she felt like she need to be with Paul and Pan right now.” Paige told Drake as she hugged into her great-great nephew. “We are so proud of how you are holding up.”

“Yeah well it’s not my first graveside visit.” Drake replied while breaking off their hug. “I doubt it’s going to be my last.”

Before Paige could reply to Drake and tell him something reassuring, he began to walk off with Cole and Raven quickly following him to make sure he was okay as Quinn walked over to speak with his fellow elder.

“I don’t know how Cole manages to keep worming his way back into this family but for once I’m actually happy Drake’s got a friend right now especially after his former friend went all evil.” Paige admitted to Quinn. “But if you tell anyone I said anything even remotely nice about Cole I will kill you!”

“Paige, we need to speak about something Raven and I may have done earlier, and it revolves around a certain great-great nephew you forbid all elders from ever contacting.” Quinn told her.

“Okay now is not the time to tell me you broke the rules!” Paige snapped. “I’m here to support Drake…”

“Why do you think we contacted Parker in the first place?” Quinn unusually snapped back. “I get how we’re supposed to honor his desire to no longer have anything to do with this life, but I don’t get why we’re not honoring Paul and even Melinda’s wishes to see no harm come to Drake.”

“No harm has come to Drake…” Paige began to say.

“Not yet…he’s barely coping right now and forcing him to be the power of three times three will only make things worse.” Quinn admitted to her. “He deserves the kind of break Parker got in fact I think he deserves it more.”

“Hey…Raven thought one of us should stay with you at all times and I draw the short straw.” Cole joked as he walked into the kitchen of the Halliwell Manor to find Drake drinking from a bottle of whisky. “Of course, I’m joking…probably not the best time for a demon to be cracking jokes.”

“Yeah that and you always suck at trying to be funny.” Drake laughed as he continued to drink his whisky. “No offense meant or anything but a truth’s a truth.”

“Fair point.” Cole replied as he walked towards Drake, took the whisky off him and drank from it. “You know it’s never easy losing a parent god I even felt something when Raven killed our mother, I didn’t feel much to be fair but still…it’s never easy.”

“Yeah I’ve had better days.” Drake admitted before snatching the whisky back. “The truth is I just keep telling myself the day will be over soon but I’m beginning to fear what tomorrow is going to look like.”

“Well whatever it may look like I’ll be here.” Cole promised him.

“Thanks.” Drake said with a sincere smile before Rose walked into the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind me just inviting myself to the wake it’s just my mother worked for your father and something inside me told me I should be here.” Rose said to Drake. “I’m guessing your Paul Halliwell’s son Drake, right?”

“Correct and no you’re more than welcome here.” Drake replied to her before walking over and shaking her hand. “Who was your mother?”

“Patience Craft although she just went by Patty.” Rose answered her.

“Oh my…Patty Craft…are you Penny or Rose?” Drake wondered, knowing this girl in front of him was another charmed one as they broke off their handshake. “I’m really sorry for your loss too my dad said Patty was an amazing woman.”

“I’m Rose and yeah my mum was a really amazing woman.” Rose agreed.

“Yeah she really was.” Penny said as she too walked into the kitchen before walking over to shake Drake’s hand. “Again, sorry for the intrusion but I felt like I kind of needed to be here too.”

“Wish you had told me, so I didn’t have to get a flight solo.” Rose mumbled to herself.

“It’s no problem…stay and enjoy the food and drink in the dining room.” Drake told Penny as he broke off their handshake. “I just need to go and greet everyone.”

“Drake I think now would be as good a time as ever.” Cole suggested to the Halliwell hybrid.

“Not now Cole.” Drake replied.

“Drake…” Cole began to say.

“I said not now!” Drake snapped at him.

“Actually, I don’t want to be rude but there is something I’d like to talk to you about regarding my mother’s death.” Penny butted in. “You see I never believed it was some mysterious case of spontaneous combustion I mean I’m a detective and I like cold hard evidence and there was just none until recently.”

“What do you mean until recently?” Drake wondered.

“I believe whatever killed my mother killed your father and aunt too and it may kill you if you don’t allow me to help you.” Penny revealed much to Drake, Rose and Cole’s shock.

“Well I guess my showing up here to ask questions about a baby blanket is a lot less rude now.” Rose admitted before turning to Penny. “Way to go sis.”

“Well she’s not exactly wrong…” Cole stated.

“I really didn’t want to do this here and now, but you’ve given me no other choice.” Drake said before taking a deep sigh. “Your mother was adopted my father was her biological brother and they were witches.”

“Hold up did you just say witches?” Rose asked Drake. “My mum was into that hocus pocus stuff no offence or anything.”

“That’s because she never knew she was a witch and her powers were bound.” Cole explained to Rose.

“You can’t seriously expect us to believe this.” Penny said to Drake.

“What kind of witch?” Rose wondered.

“The strongest kind a Halliwell and you both are the strongest type of Halliwell witches.” Drake continued to reveal to the two stunned sisters. “Your charmed ones.”

“Well this day just got interesting!” Rose admitted with excitement in her eyes.

“You can’t seriously be believing this?” Penny snapped at her younger sister before turning to look at Drake. “I’m sorry clearly you’re distraught and grieving right now I’ll come back in a few days.”

“It always leads to show and tell before anyone starts believing.” Drake said as he grabbed a hold of Penny and Rose. “Don’t worry it took me a lot to believe this too.”

“Hey,” Cole said just before Drake blinked out of sight with the two sisters. “Just leave me on my own why don’t you?”

“You’ve got to stop following me before I have to vanquish your ass!” Parker warned Quinn after he walked into his bedsit within L.A to find Quinn stood there waiting for him.

“Listen your aunt Paige is already pissed with me for even contacting you so please just hear me out.” Quinn pleaded with Parker.

“Okay,” Parker sighed as he closed the door behind him. “You have five minutes, but I mean five minutes and five minutes only.”

“Have you ever been in love?” Quinn asked him.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that’s any of your business or what it’s got to do with why you’re here?” Parker wondered.

“Drake’s the love of my life actually the love of both my lives and he’s been through so much as you were already informed I’ve watched him fight for happiness over the last three years and I’ve been as much a cause as anyone to why it’s always out of his reach.” Quinn explained to the runaway Halliwell. “Paul would never want this life for his son…you must’ve been deeply struggling with everything when you walked away from it all but you see Drake can’t do that, no Drake won’t do that unless he knows there’s someone else to take his place in the power of three.”

“I get that I do I wish there was a power of three back then too but there wasn’t…I lost a lot before I walked away…my sister, my mother and then my father.” Parker responded with a heartbroken look across his face. “We could’ve used the charmed ones, but they were dead, and I did what I had to do.”

“And you did the right thing!” Quinn told him. “Just like becoming the charmed ones alongside Patience’s daughters would be the right thing.”

“He’s right sweetie!” Piper said after appearing out of nowhere. “We granted your wish to stay away after everything we even enlisted Paul’s son instead of you or Patience for the charmed ones because we had no clue if Patience was even alive and we wanted to respect your wishes.”

“Patience is alive?” Parker asked in shock.

“Not anymore.” Quinn reluctantly told him.

“The point is we did what you wanted us to do each time because you needed time to heal but now it’s Drake’s turn and we need you back.” Piper told Parker as she walked towards her grandson. “We have missed you so much, I have missed you so much please come back to us and let your second cousin find some peace. We’re not saying it has to be forever if you don’t want to be, but we’d really like to have you back especially me.”

“I’ve missed you Grams.” Parker admitted with tears in his eyes before Piper rushed over to hug her grandson.

“So, your telling us we have powers?” Rose asked Drake while she, Drake and Penny stood in the attic of the Halliwell Manor.

“Don’t believe him Rose this is clearly some crazy trick he’s pulling to cover up what really happened to our mother.” Penny told her sister.

“Your mother was killed by a demon simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and I know this won’t bring you much comfort but we vanquished the demon that killed her well more my father’s girlfriend did.” Drake revealed to them both. “We didn’t know it then, but Patty was my father and aunt’s sister who was kidnapped at birth.”

“So, now your saying our grandparents are kidnappers?” Penny snapped at the Halliwell hybrid.

“Not your adoptive grandparents no but your biological grandfather our biological grandfather was.” Drake explained to them both. “He thought he was protecting her just like my father did when he gave me up but the truth is this is a wicked world and being in the know about how truly terrible it is, is the only way to stay alive.”

“Way to go on selling the whole witch thing by the way.” Rose joked. “Although I’m still intrigued by the previously mentioned powers.”

“Yeah that’s what got me at first too.” Drake laughed at the younger Craft sister.

“We don’t have powers I mean I’ve lived my entire life without powers and so has my sister I think we’d noticed if we had powers, I mean I’m a detective and I’m good at my job.” Penny argued with him.

“If you’re good at your job then you’ll notice there’s a whole lot of unsolved cases just like your mother’s which are truly unexplainable or rather were unexplainable until I gave you the answer right now.” Drake stated.

“Okay…if we’re witches what are our powers?” Penny asked him.

“Well I have telekinesis and astral projection the later came to me later in life after I bound my white lighter side.” Parker revealed to Penny and Rose as he walked into the attic of the Halliwell Manor with Quinn quickly following behind him. “Which must mean one of you has molecular immobilization and the other has the power of premonition.”

“What exactly is molecular immobilization?” Rose asked the room. “I mean premonition is self-explanatory but…”

“It’s basically freezing molecules like objects people and things.” Drake and Penny said in unison before looking at each other awkwardly.

“Okay so if any of this is real how do we get these so-called powers?” Penny questioned.

“From what I remember being told we all just need to hold hands.” Parker told her.

“Hold up what does he mean by we all?” Drake asked Quinn.

“I may have broken a few rules to find and locate Parker with a lot of help from Raven so he could take your place as a charmed one so you could finally be free to be happy.”  Quinn answered as he walked over to Drake. “I finally put you first just like you wanted me too.”

Drake had no words to respond to Quinn’s amazing kindness but he didn’t need words as he pulled Quinn in for a long and passionate kiss while Parker walked over and grabbed a hold of Penny and Pan’s hands as Drake and Quinn continued to kiss each other passionately the blue light appeared above the three new charmed ones as they look up towards it with pure awe.

“Hold up if he’s getting out of this does this mean this whole charmed thing is optional?” Penny asked Rose and Parker before being hushed by Rose.

Trinity Banks the socialite prisoner found herself sleeping in the bottom bunk having to listen to the lady on the top bunk snore away much to her frustration before beginning to attack the bed upwards and screaming in a pure fit of frustration before attempting to cover the pillow over her face only to suddenly feel the pillow pushed down on her as she began to shake viciously and try to pull the pillow off her before it was removed only for her to be left horrified to see Cole Turner stood above her in her cell holding the pillow in question.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” She shouted at him. “You almost killed me you psychopath.”

“You mean like you ordered someone to murder Pan and Paul Halliwell.” Cole replied to her.

“Oh, great your another one of the good annoying little witches.” Trinity moaned as she stood up from her bed. “Go ahead and put another sentence on top of my sentence and then I’ll just get you killed too.”

“Yeah I’m neither good nor bad.” Cole said as he grabbed Trinity by the neck and lifted her body in the air, choking the socialite. “I’m more in the grey-scale and I believe in hurting those who’ve hurt people I care about.”

Trinity’s body quickly caught fire the flames burning her quickly as she began screaming in pain before her body exploded much to Cole’s delight.

“So, where do you go from here?” Parker asked Drake as he walked into Drake’s bedroom to find him finishing packing his bag and putting it over his shoulder.

“Anywhere but here I guess I can’t thank you enough for everything you’re doing Parker.” Drake thanked him as he walked over to Lilah’s cot and picked her up. “I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to stick around here.”

“You would’ve stuck around and the got job done because that’s what we do in this family even if it breaks us.” Parker replied. “This way you can go and do whatever you want to do you get to be with your daughter and you get to try your hand at being happy.”

“Happy,” Drake laughed as he put Lilah into her pram and began clipping her in. “I don’t think I even remember what happy is.”

“I’m guessing happy starts with that hot elder who has this dork thing going for him.” Parker joked.

“He is hot in the dorkiest way possible right?” Drake agreed. “He’s an elder and although he came through for me today that was a onetime thing.”

“That kiss didn’t look like a one-time thing.” Parker told his second cousin. “It’s been a long time since somebody kissed me like that, and it was never a one-time thing when they did.”

“Boy or girl?” Drake wondered.

“I’m strictly a man only kind of man you?” Parker answered.

“I prefer the best of both worlds.” Drake replied to the newly returned Halliwell. “Are you sure you going to manage the power of three with them two? I mean Rose will probably love this life but Penny she’s going to be a hard sell probably even harder a sell than I was.”

“I’ve got this don’t worry besides I got to go out to the big bad world solo and now I’m back it’s your turn.” Parker told him as Drake placed himself behind the buggy, placing his hands on the handles. “What are you going to do about your job at Magic School?”

“I’m taking a sabbatical until I decide what me and the little one are doing next but I’m going to have a lot of fun working that out first I think Disneyland is the first thing I’m going to do.” Drake admitted to his cousin. “Then maybe travel the world a little I’ve got grandparents in Miami who are always pestering me for a visit especially since Lilah was born…as stupid as it sounds, I think I’m going to find myself.”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all.” Parker responded with a smile. “Good luck Drake Black-Halliwell I’m sure we’ll see you again someday.”

“Yeah maybe you will goodbye cousin.” Drake replied before blinking out of sight with his daughter.

Many Years Ago

“He’s going to be alright Eve he’s going to live a great and wonderful life.” Pan told Eve as she walked out of her front door of the Halliwell Manor and sat down on the doorstep next to her demonic girlfriend. “It’s going to be hard for a while, but we’ll all get through this the knowledge of him getting to go somewhere else and be far away from all this is what will make us feel that tiniest bit less sad.”

“Yeah your right I know you are it’s just I’d love to be a part of that wonderful life of his.”  Eve cried as she hugged into Pan. “I really hope he’s going to be okay.”

“He’s going to be more than okay he’s going to be truly magnificent.” Paul said as he appeared at the front door.

[linuxlife]

Linux Life Episode 51

Hello folks as I have managed to get myself a quiet moment it’s time to check in with the blog.  As I said I will be a bit more sporadic with the posting here this is due to family situations.

So what have I being doing with Linux since the last episode.  Well my Kingston 120GB SSD I was running Linux on decided to have issues and for all of the attempts to save it I had to swap it out and replace it with my Integral 120GB SSD.

Luckily because I don’t keep my home directory on the SSD but on a separate 1TB Seagate hard drive no data was really lost.  So I had to re-install Namib Linux onto the new drive.  This was a bit odd but I got it working.

The installation went smooth but upon restart GRUB would start and then pixelate the screen as the video didn’t initialise correctly.  So I went in using mode 3 to just a text prompt but upon signing in this way MATE actually started which was odd but handy.

At first I could not update as Pamac would not download any of the required 538 updates from the base Namib.  So I opened a terminal and tried to use pacman.  First attempt using ‘pacman -Syu’ it just sat there after updating the main repositories as it failed to download just as Pamac had.

In the end the way I managed to get it working was to use the ‘pacman -Syyuu’ which forces the update.  So finally I managed to get the system updated and working.  I also managed to install the Nvidia drivers while I was there and all of the previous programs I was using which luckily was not many as I have been pretty quiet on Linux at the moment.

After installing Grub Customizer from the AUR I was able to put Grub into a mode that I knew would work with my ageing monitor.  I really must get a new one although this works it’s an old Dell 19 inch monitor with a max resolution of 1280x800 so it really is showing its age.  It works fine however and there is no pixel damage so I really can’t complain.

So within an hour I was back up and running and even managed to get my desktop back including my Cairo Dock at the bottom of the screen with all its icons restored and reworking including the Vulkan drivers and DXVK to get games working through Lutris.

However I have not really been playing games lately but it is nice to have that capability should I start using it.  

I have however been messing around with stuff.  I was playing with the Previous emulator.  If you remember I discussed this NeXT emulator before.  Well I managed to get a few programs installed using ISOs of the Peanuts Archive including a few games and a few applications.

I have also been messing around with DosBOX and I decided to have a bit of fun playing with some old programming stuff to see if I can remember any of it.  I honestly can’t but I installed Borland Turbo Pascal 6.0 for DOS and Borland Turbo C 3.0 for DOS and I was playing with them.

I vaguely managed to get a basic “Hello World” type program that cleared the screen and then waited for a key press to exit but it took me far longer than it should have as I have totally forgotten how to program Pascal and C++ and to begin with could not even remember the keywords.

This could be because the last time I actually did any programming in DOS has to be more than 25 years ago.  However I did have fun playing with them and although it won’t lead to anything serious.  Trust me I don’t desire to become a programmer as I just don’t have the patience, it is fun to mess around and do small things with.

I did create their own dosbox.conf files so they auto-start in DosBOX from a launcher and now they sit on my Cairo Dock bar along with everything else.  I’m sure in time I will kill them off but for now it keeps me vaguely amused in this tricky time.

So that’s what has been happening in my little Linux world so until next episode.  Take care.

[pupsandnubs]

I don’t know what havoc I caused in a past life for karma to bitch slap me around like this, but it’s like I can’t catch a break.

I just posted all of these cute, loving pictures from our weekend together- and I mean we did have the loveliest weekend. I really enjoyed myself, I enjoyed being with you, everything was light and airy and peaceful and so much fun. It was so nice just laying with you, or being in your arms and just enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest.

But it’s like for every good moment we have, I get slammed with a moment that makes me so mad my ears get hot, my chest hurts, and the blood drains from my hands leaving me cold and physically shaking. 

I don’t understand why this turned into an argument.

I understand why things got tense- I know talking about your family triggers you. But I am no longer needed to be in a position to coddle or dance around your triggers. Now I’m meant to initiate them, process them with you, and help you use the tools you have to work solutions out of them. 

HOW it ESCALATED into EVERYTHING ELSE I have no idea.

You dismissed me in the car, and like I am SO used to you doing it that it didn’t even bother me the first time. I legitimately just rolled my eyes and decided I didn't give enough of a fuck to further that conversation with you anymore. Once again, we would start and end and restart and resolve: on your terms.

You’d text me the following morning with a long processed paragraph and apologize for reacting the way you did, and in typical Cristi fashion I would shrug and be over it and forgive and move on. 

I don’t know what you want.

Hell, YOU don’t know what you want. 

And I’ve convinced myself this long that it’s okay and that it was just a necessary part of our journey- but I’m starting to think maybe it’s not supposed to be.

I deserve to be part of someone’s plan. And a definitive “want”. I deserve a certain level of certainty from a person, and to be someone’s “absolutely”.

I can’t figure out one day to the next wtf I am, or where I lie. One day it feels Absolute. For a few more days it feels Certain. Then there’s a wave of I Think So’s. And then some Maybe’s. Then only when something drastically wonderful happens to I feel that relieving Yes, For Sure. Then when something drastically goes wrong it suddenly becomes I Don’t Know.

I get that I’m not the most consistent person in many areas of my life. I get that I don’t always know what I want in some instances either.

I rarely know what I feel like eating. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I don’t know what career is suited for myself. I don’t always go to the gym like I say I will. I didn’t quit Canvas according to my deadline. I didn’t give up on you and just date someone else according to my mental timeline either.

But I was always sure about my love for you. My want for you. My wants for a future with you. My want for being a part of your family. My want for you being a part of mine.

I know I want children. I want a dog. I want to get you your cat.

I know what I want with you. I know HOW I want to live my life, I know what I wish for my family and what I wish for yours. I know I want my friends to succeed and that if I can be a part of that, I’ll do my best.

I don’t fucking know what you want.

You love your family, you never want to be far from them, you want you and your brothers to have houses close to each other. You want to be closer to them. You want to repair your relationship with your father, you want to love your mother. 

Then you don’t give a fuck, fuck them, your family hasn’t done shit for you so why should you ever change for them- blah blah blah.

Let me tell you something. That is selfish. Feel valid in whatever pain and trauma and despair you want, it’s still selfish. And you are the source of your own ongoing pain. I learned this the hard way about myself.

Are you a perfect son

Are you a perfect brother

If you can’t answer yes, you have no right to expect only them to change and not put the effort in yourself to change. This isn’t a competition for “who should change first”. If you want to see a change, fucking be the change!

I am not a perfect sister. I am far from a perfect daughter. I was always self centered growing up and truly felt misunderstood and that no one bothered to try to get to know me. 

I’ve been thrown out. I’ve been hit across the face. I’ve been called a bitch by my dad, who was my hero. I have been TOLD I was DEAD to them. That they (my mom and dad) had no daughter. I was instructed to never show my face at their place again. My dad told me that if I ever tried to come back and “hurt my mother” again, he would deal with me himself. I have had my dad try to call the cops on me to make me leave his (my) house. My mom has called me a whore. My family in upstate uphold that rumor and add new ones constantly: I’m a whore, degenerate, drug addict, etc. I have been black listed from a whole fucking town in upstate NY. I was told I was never allowed to show my face or interact with my former students.

I was never a bad person. The “bad” things I did didn’t merit the half of that. I snuck out and lied about going to prom. I fell in love with my coworker. I got married. I wanted to be happy even if people thought I made a bad decision. 

But I was treated like I’d committed the worst offenses. And I held that hatred close to my heart for a long time. 

My mom tried to kill herself, and told the doctors that it was because of me.

I was only 19.

Do you remember being 19? The world felt so big, and the sky felt like it was crumbling at my feet. 

I woke myself up crying every night for almost 4 years. I didn’t speak to my mother for 2 of those years. 

My husband held me until I finished crying myself back to sleep.

I hated them. I hated them for abandoning me. Blood was supposed to be thicker than water. Family was over any and everyone. Why was I suddenly the exception? They didn’t even shun BOMI’S biological mom. How could my family abandon ME, but didn’t turn their back on a woman who just dumped her children off? I hated every single one of them. 

Until I didn’t. Until I got a call that my dad had suffered his first stroke. 

I showed up to the hospital and I saw my mom at the elevator. I froze. I expected her to snarl, or go in without me. I expected to feel the hatred and resentment and get a “what are YOU doing here, LEAVE”

But my mom looked small, her shoulders sagged, and the bags under her eyes looked heavier. She sighed and waited for me. In silence we got into the elevator together, and she looked at me. I hugged her and cried. We never spoke about why we hadn’t seen or talked to each other. She just patted my back and said “Ok, it’s done.”

She’d forgiven me. And I had forgiven her.

The trauma is still real. The hurt still happened. For all of us, not just me. But the hate isn’t worth it. My parents weren’t perfect. I was not either. I had to forgive myself. I had to forgive my parents. I had to forgive upstate NY. Not for anyone but myself.

Did they deserve it? It doesn’t matter. I had to give it in order to heal. In order to move on. I had to rewire my brain to better handle my family. And it’s BETTER but still not perfect. It’s not on our parents for our own self healing. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, our parents did their best by us. It wasn’t always right, and it wasn’t always fair. But take a moment to reflect inward.

In order for YOU to get what YOU want, YOU need to change. 

For me to be friends with you- I had to forgive you for hurting me. I had to become more patient. I had to soften my tone. I had to change my approach. I had to learn YOU first, and then CHANGE my patterns/behavior too.

For me to be best friends with you- I had to control my temper, my impulse. I had to forgive you for lying to me. Did you deserve that second chance? In that moment, no absolutely not. But I gave it to you anyway and I would watch to see if I’d regret it.

For me to be with you- I had to accept that I would have to relive and relearn a whole new type of patience. I had to accept that you wouldn’t know what you wanted or how you felt for awhile. I had to accept that it could backfire on me and I could lose everything. I had to trust the process.

I had to change. And I did. Otherwise none of this would be as it is. 

Your mother wants to be able to walk over to you and touch you, or have a conversation with you. Your dad wants to be able to see you laugh or smile instead of seeing the look of despair or anxiety clearly sunken into the lines in your face.

Your brother want to be able to hang out with you and laugh and joke and go out. They want you to stay home on a Saturday night and socialize with their friends that come over.

If YOU change, they will follow suit. If they see a difference in YOU, why wouldn’t they give US a bigger chance?

My mom allows you over as much as you are because I have changed. I don’t whine or bitch about walking the dogs when she asks. I complain less about washing them. I take it upon myself to do the dishes if the sink is full, or take out the garbage she leaves by the door. I bring home snacks for my dad, or a meal if I know its around that time. I buy household things when we’re low so she doesn’t have to so much.

Small stupid things, that she’ll never say thank you for out loud- but that’s why she doesn’t mind that my boyfriend and I lock ourselves in my room for hours on end. 

I don’t intend on interfering with your journey with your family anymore. It’s not my place past this ... post I guess. I don’t have it in me to want something more than my partner, FOR my partner. I sound like a broken record, my attempts and encouragement will eventually feel like nagging, and innocent and genuine advice will eventually turn into resentment. And that isn’t what I want.

You handle this however you see fit. They are your family, not mine and I accept that. If no one wants to speak up to you about it because of fear of retaliation from you, that is your guys’ problem and not mine.

This is my lesson in not meddling. I understand that although intentions were good, that I should not have said anything. 

I hear you loud and clear, karma.

[kingofbluebell]

Comfort in Monotony: A Prologue

I would apologize for another delay in the work I promised this week if I didn't spend my free time engrossed in other fulfilling activities. Needless to say, all my anime writing is moving to the backburner for the foreseeable future until I schedule it in. I should have known that if I set out to play more video games this year that I couldn't keep my promise to watch more anime. If my critiques contained less editorializing, I could see myself having already produced a review or two at this juncture, but since my work tends to lean heavier on more emotionally-fuelled analysis, I need more time edit. Besides, I haven't done much long form anime critique in a while. A majority of what I wrote last year pertains to video games, mainly RPGs, which segues us somewhat favorably back to my recent obsession with playing Trails of Cold Steel. I've come late to the party for Falcom's The Legend of Heroes franchise although I regret not doing it sooner with how genuinely enraptured it’s made me.

I eschewed the Bandai Namco released trilogy on PSP (which has only gotten prohibitively expensive due to their low print runs) and only dipped my toes into the celebrated first Trails of the Sky before moving onto to something else as often happens when you own too many games. Publisher XSEED has made a name for themselves by partnering with Falcom, and their dedication in localizing this fan-favorite franchise is evident with every dialogue box I click through. The (more recent) Trails games are known for their extensive amount of text, besieging players with paragraphs not only for the main story but a majority of the sidequests. This, on top of your traditional JRPG trappings, means that these games are slow burners, which is a turnoff for a lot of people who would rather spend their free time on multiple games rather than one or two. However, my lifetime attachment to this genre has me willing to let dozens of games languish on my shelf while I finish a single 80-hour plus title, with many of those collecting dust games of equal length.

That said I still don't like wasting my time, a problem considering my JRPG predilections. One of the worst feelings for me is sinking over 60 hours into any game only to realize you don't feel like seeing this journey through. It's happened to me only a handful of times in my JRPG "career" but being so few and far between means that these games stick with me. In my experience, a great JRPG is one that invests the player to the point where the monotonous activities associated with the (sub)genre don't often register. This investment is, of course, a subjective state of being for each player but regardless of what your favorite JRPGs might be, you must admit that they all kept your attention longer than you expected regardless of what they made you do. Unfortunately, my recent playthrough of  Dragon Quest VII on 3DS could not keep my attention after 80 hours, and I dropped the game for more compelling activities. Reflecting on my time spent has only made my feelings of disappointment towards the title grow which saddens me as I've been a longtime fan of the franchise. While I'm only about halfway through Trails of Cold Steel, I feel confident that I'll be seeing it to completion even with Yakuza 0 releasing this week. In fact, I had to wrench myself away from my PS Vita even to write what is ultimately going to be a very short blog post. Cold Steel has officially won me over so much that I'm already eager to begin the sequel sooner than anticipated and I suspect this blog will suffer for it. Despite my, I'm going to try to turn what proved to be a lack of time to write this week into something more productive. In all honestly, I had been struggling to come up with topics for this blog given my fixation on Trails of Cold Steel to the detriment of all my other plans. However, this familiar sense of fascination with my media engagement has only focused my thoughts and is beginning to germinate an idea that will prove fruitful in the coming weeks.

Last year, around the time I had a similarly addictive time with the Etrian Odyssey franchise, I wrote a handful of posts on what made for a great JRPG. While poorly planned and unedited as all my posts were that year, they were seemingly my most passionate posts mainly due to the fact I managed to churn out over four pages a night. My history and deep connection with the genre made me an unstoppable typing machine, and I happily whittled away the hours because I was covering a topic so close to me. At the time it had been a while since I completed any JRPGs that made me lose faith in the genre and so I didn't have any concrete examples or experiences to compare against these recent successes. Up to that point, I had read the numerous articles and posts from other longtime fans who had become disenchanted with the genre during the last console generation. The looming presence of the Final Fantasy trilogy, the complete lack of localized Dragon Quest titles and despite their rise in popularity not everyone had bought into the heavy anime aesthetic of the recent Persona games nor the more severe difficulty of the rest of the Megami Tensei franchise had left the consensus wanting. While I thought many of the criticisms lobbied against the genre were valid, I couldn't turn my back on it. Not when I managed to discover at least game a year that I enjoyed. I was still a champion for the genre so many others had written off because much like with these games I knew my patience would be rewarded.

That patience would have appeared to paid off as 2016 seemed to revitalize the general gaming public's interest in JRPGs. Not only did plenty of titles receive rave reviews from critics and fans but also those same people were excited about the genre's future outings. Regrettably, the games I decided to sink my time into last year did not fill me with the same excitement so many others felt. Both aforementioned Dragon Quest VII remake and the Fire Emblem x Megami Tensei spin-off Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE did not sit well with me. Despite continuing to write on my blog at that point, I expressed my disappointment of them to others even though they did not share my sentiments. In a year where most people rekindled their love with JRPGs mine had dulled. I'll admit my reticence to restart playing Trails of Cold Steel came from a fear of potentially not enjoying another fan-favorite title. Those fears assuaged and my passion reignited I turn back to the time I spent on less than stellar JRPGs with an aim in mind.

Now armed with the additional knowledge of a diverse set of recent titles I can finally write a series of essays on what I consider to be the qualities of an excellent JRPG.  I won't just be covering current titles as I'll delve into a few select classics that epitomize the traits I hope to champion. My aim is for these pieces help others better understand the genre and to expose many to titles they may not have considered picking up. Even if people don't agree with the merit of my chosen subjects I hope they find my work worthy enough to start a dialogue. I see these essays taking up the bulk of my time on this blog in February, if not the entire month. I'll spend the rest of this month trying to outline what I hope to cover so they all come out looking better than this. In the meantime, I'm going to return to playing more Trails of Cold Steel and trying to squeeze something different for an interim post.

See you next week.

[lorajackson]

Governors Team Up to Plan for Reopening, Rebuffing Trump

(Bloomberg) — Some of the nation’s most powerful governors said they would form regional alliances to coordinate reopening schools and businesses after the coronavirus outbreak subsides, setting up a potential clash with the president, who says that he alone has that authority.“We will be driven by facts, we will be driven by evidence, we will be driven by science, we will be driven by our public health advisers, we will be driven by the collaborative spirit that defines the best of us at this important moment,” California Governor Gavin Newsom said as he announced a partnership with Washington state and Oregon.With health data suggesting that the spread of the coronavirus may be nearing a plateau in the U.S., public officials are under growing pressure to chart a path back to normality. The longer the state-by-state lockdowns last, the more economic hardship there will be. But dropping stay-at-home restrictions too soon might risk a second wave of infections.That tension was on display Monday as two sets of governors — one on each coast — said they would coordinate how and when they might gradually ease their restrictions on travel and business. Shortly before both initiatives were announced, President Donald Trump tweeted that he alone had the authority to decide when states would return to normal.Roughly 105 million people, or about a third of the U.S. population, live in the 10 states making plans for a post-crisis era.Scant Respect“The optimum is a geographically coordinated plan,” said New York Governor Andrew Cuomo. “This virus doesn’t understand governmental boundaries.”Coordination is critical, Cuomo said, to avoid unintended consequences — such as having thirsty residents of a state where bars are closed driving to another where they’ve been reopened.The East Coast initiative is in its early stages. Officials from those states — New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Delaware and Rhode Island — provided few details about what criteria they might use to restart a semblance of normal life. A panel will consist of the governors’ chiefs of staff and health and economic officials from each state. Most residents in those states are nearing the one-month mark of having been told to stay home and keep their distance from others.After the announcement, Massachusetts said it would join the alliance.Cuomo, in his daily briefing, seemed to agree with Trump that the federal government has the authority to overrule the states. But he questioned why Washington would get to direct the reopening after it delegated closures to the states.“Let’s see what the federal government’s plan is,” Cuomo said. Trump “left it to the states to close down, and that was a state-by-state decision, without any guidance really,” he said.Newsom, in his announcement, said he would unveil a framework on Tuesday for lifting California’s stay-home order, including the metrics that would guide that process. Last week, the state’s secretary of Health and Human Services said easing the state’s restrictions would require putting in place a system to test more people for the virus, track new cases as they appear and trace person-to-person contacts that could trigger new outbreaks.Further details about how to restart California’s economy will come later in the week, Newsom said, along with preliminary figures about how the virus would affect the state’s budget. Oregon and Washington, he said, will craft their own plans, although the basic principles guiding all three states would similar.Asked whether Trump or the nation’s governors have final say on reopening the economy, Newsom would say only that California still had a strong collaborative relationship with the federal government on the virus fight.“I have all the confidence in the world, moving forward, that we’ll maintain that collaborative spirit,” he said.Trump, for his part, said in a Twitter post Monday that he has the power to overrule governors, “open up” states and relax social-distancing practices. The declaration came after economic advisers pressed concerns within the White House about the economic fallout from the shutdown, and as Trump’s patience appeared to fray after earlier ceding to health advisers’ insistence that his initial target date of Easter was too early.He said he would make a decision “soon” on reopening, “in conjunction with the governors and input from others.” But he added that “it is the decision of the president, and for many good reasons.” He didn’t list any.What’s the Plan?Cuomo said he hadn’t spoken to the president about recovery plans, but left open the possibility of ceding state authority to the U.S. if it came up with a workable solution.“If the federal government comes and says they’re going to substitute a federal plan, well that would then trump the state plan, pardon the pun, if it fit within the Constitution and the law,” he said.The governors’ collaborations reflect the deep desire of Americans to get back to work, but they come as New York — now the epicenter of the global outbreak — continues to post dire statistics about the toll.New York on Monday eclipsed the grim threshold of 10,000 total deaths from Covid-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus, after another 671 people died in 24 hours. Before Monday, New York had reported six consecutive days of 700 deaths or more.Painstaking ProcessCuomo, in Albany, was joined on a conference call by the other Northeast governors. The recovery must be careful, incremental and guided by experts rather than politics, Cuomo said, and the pandemic won’t be truly “over” until a vaccine is available, which could take as long as 18 months.Ideally, a plan would also involve widespread testing, he said, to allow those without the virus — and those who have recovered and may now be resistant to it — to return to work first.“You only get an economic recovery if it comes on the back of a health recovery,” New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy said. “As painful as the economic reality is right now, it’s not remotely as painful as it would be if we get the sequencing wrong and we get the timing wrong.”The continued spread of the virus, while slowing, raises questions about what kind of infection rate would be considered acceptable under normal conditions — and whether the goal should be to prevent infections entirely or merely contain it enough so that the hospital system can handle the workload.Read More: NYC Can’t Return to Normal Without Universal Testing, De Blasio SaysCuomo said the restart has to be carried out slowly while keeping an eye on the virus rates.“You’ll start to open that valve on the economic activity, and you’ll turn that valve very slowly reopening the economy, more essential workers, do it carefully do it slowly and do it intelligently,” he said.Some data show that conditions are beginning to improve. Hospitalizations continued to flatten, Cuomo said, with total admissions virtually stable at 18,000 and with ICU patients and intubations declining since Sunday. So far, those numbers have been far below the level officials initially braced for.“We’ve been talking today about the fact that New York believes we have reached a plateau in the increase in the number of cases,” Cuomo said. “They’re not going down, but they’re not going up at the same rate and we believe it’s a ‘plateau.’ That is relatively good news in a world of bad options. We should start looking to ‘reopening.’”(Updates with Massachusetts joining the Northeast alliance)For more articles like this, please visit us at bloomberg.comSubscribe now to stay ahead with the most trusted business news source.©2020 Bloomberg L.P.

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[preciousmetals0]

3.28 Million Lost; Micron Moves; Cheesecake Blues

3.28 Million Lost; Micron Moves; Cheesecake Blues:

Denial, Seems It Had to Come

I warned you it was coming. I warned you it’d be bad.

Relied on me to say it all. (Any Sevendust fans out there? No? Oh well…)

Weekly jobless claims arrived today, and they were record-breaking. The U.S. Department of Labor reported that 3.28 million Americans filed for unemployment benefits last week.

That’s 15 times the number of people who filed two weeks ago … and five times the previous record of 695,000 claims set in 1982. It was more than the peak number of claims during both the Great Recession and the Great Depression.

3.28 million Americans out of work — all because of the coronavirus (or the panic along with it).

The situation is so bad — How bad is it? — that Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell appeared on the Today show to reassure Americans that the U.S. central bank is on our side.

“The Federal Reserve is working hard to support you now and our policies will be very important when the recovery does come,” Powell said.

The Takeaway: 

Let’s think about the situation for a minute.

The head of the U.S. Federal Reserve — the guy who’s responsible for the country’s most powerful financial institution — felt it was necessary to reassure the American people on a popular morning show.

On one hand, that’s somewhat comforting … Powell taking time out of his busy day to tell everyone that it’ll all be OK.

On the other, it shows just how badly the situation has deteriorated. We now have the head of the Fed offering reassurance, not some lackey.

Oh, and those 3.28 million jobless claims? The market shrugged them off.

It seems that most of Wall Street believes that the worst is now behind us. Peter Boockvar, chief investment officer at Bleakley Advisory Group, summed up the Street’s opinion pretty well:

We all know the pain being felt and the economic damage being caused by this damn virus but because we are so close to getting past the worst of the spread, we need to start getting creative about what the restart will look like.

So close to getting past the worst of the spread?

The U.S. is about a month behind Italy in terms of COVID-19’s spread, and Italy hasn’t even peaked yet. We’re three months behind China, and it’s just now seeing the end of community spread. Both countries went into complete lockdown. While individual states have gone this route, the U.S. as a whole has not.

As hopeful as I want to be … as hopeful as Wall Street wants to be … we aren’t close to getting past the worst of the spread.

As the nation’s top infectious disease expert, Dr. Anthony Fauci, put it: “You don’t make the timeline, the virus makes the timeline.”

But … but the $2 trillion coronavirus rescue bill!

Yes, I hear you out there … protesting my negativity again. The Senate’s bill will blunt the impact, to be sure. But it can’t stop what’s already happening. Despite reassurances that everything will just bounce back … that this isn’t really a long-term economic problem in the U.S. … let me tell you now: It is.

What? You think the U.S. economy could just hire back those 3.28 million out-of-work Americans tomorrow if the coronavirus magically disappeared? Nope. It doesn’t work like that.

But, while the U.S. economy is going down, down in an early round, sugar we’re going down swinging. And Great Stuff will be your No. 1 with a bullet. A loaded market complex … cock it and pull it.

Now, here’s the thing — and listen up, all ye positivity seekers!

Just as the virus chooses the timeline for this whole crazy shebang…

Only you choose your investing timeline. Only you decide if you keep hanging in there.

If you ask expert Charles Mizrahi, the situation is crystal clear. You could either:

Capture peak gains like 300%, 500% and 600%.

Or let the market turmoil and the virus’s impact eat away your financial future.

Gains like those? In this kind of market?!

Yes, dear reader — there’s potential in any market. See, according to Charles: “What you do in this current meltdown will make all the difference on what your net worth will be in the next five years.”

So, while other folks around you join the fleeing fearful, you have a chance to gain a leg up. In fact, Charles Mizrahi thinks this moment is so crucial he recorded a special video presentation on how to leave all this market panic behind.

Click here now.

The Good: Remote Connections               

Investors are falling in love with Micron Technology Inc. (Nasdaq: MU) in a hopeless place today.

The flash memory maker beat Wall Street’s second-quarter earnings and revenue estimates and issued solid third-quarter guidance.

In fact, Micron appears to benefit from COVID-19 lockdowns around the world. In its post-earnings conference call, the company highlighted rising demand for PCs, notebooks and other devices as more people work and study from home.

Furthermore, Micron noted additional demand in the data center market, as companies push to beef up cloud computing storage and performance amid spiking remote demand.

While now is clearly the time to be cautious about buying anything in the market, Micron is one company to keep on your short list of potential winners in this brave new world.

The Bad: 1 Bourbon, 1 Scotch, 1 Beer

Wanna tell you a story about the Cheesecake Factory Inc. (Nasdaq: CAKE) blues…

I read the headlines one particular Thursday and saw that Cheesecake Factory had lost its jobs. But that don’t confront me, long as I get my money next Thursday. Next Thursday come, and they didn’t have the rent … and out the door I went.

Seriously though, the Cheesecake Factory just sent a letter to its landlords that it won’t pay rent in April due to the coronavirus. Here’s an excerpt from a letter to landlords from CEO David Overton:

The severe decrease in restaurant traffic has severely decreased our cash flow and inflicted a tremendous financial blow to our business. Due to these extraordinary events, I am asking for your patience and, frankly, your help.

And it’s not just Cheesecake Factory acting kinda funny … everybody funny … now you funny too. Retailers, from clothier H&M to fast-foodie Subway, are all struggling to make rent.

If anything reinforces the idea that the COVID-19 situation is far from over, it’s retailers not paying rent. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time for a few drinks.

The Ugly: Old Junker

Growing up in rural Kentucky, I lived through the great Ford versus Chevy wars and endured many a heated argument on the topic. “Ford Don’t Make Junk” was among the many stickers plastered on the windows and tailgates of F-150s for as far as the eye could see.

Turns out, those bumper stickers weren’t quite accurate. Today, S&P Global Ratings cut Ford Motor Co.’s (NYSE: F) bonds to junk status. The ratings firm lowered Ford’s credit rating to BB+ (junk status) and said that it may lower its rating further as the coronavirus’s impact spreads.

S&P isn’t alone in its “junk” rating on Ford, however. Moody’s Investors Service cut its credit rating on the Big Blue Oval twice in the past month, citing a “credit shock” for automakers across the board.

But Ford has an answer … it plans on reopening production at key plants in April, including its Dearborn, Michigan, and Kentucky truck plants, its Kansas City Assembly Plant’s transit line and its Ohio Assembly Plant.

That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m pretty sure the United Auto Workers Union will have something to say about this. And it won’t be pretty.

You Marco, I Polo … it’s Reader Feedback time!

Let me just say, you guys have been busy … or maybe you’re just bored after being locked in your homes for days on end.

In the past week, Great Stuff received a veritable flood of comments with two common themes: You absolutely despise bailouts (especially for airlines) and you don’t think the market rout is over.

Let’s dive right into your comments:

The Unfriendly Skies

NO BAILOUT TO THOSE WHO BOUGHT BACK STOCK

— Stan B.

Airline bailout NOT. Only if that Airline assists our American citizens stuck away from their respective residents need to get home. Not for anyone just traveling. Bailout? Why do they need it as they have gouged the travelers for transporting their necessary luggage to the tune of millions of dollars of profit while still collecting their usual air fares. Why should we bail out these huge corporations. Use that money to help the smaller companies to keep their doors open. I personally am sick of seeing billions bailing out these high corporations that only turn around and use that money for the top management so called golden parachutes. Stop this madness of government bailouts.

— Peggy B.

Pigs to the trough, as usual. And, why should it shock you that R’s have no problems throwing tons of money at pillars of industry? Well, not exactly industry. Finance! That’s the magic word The Graduate should have been told. Not “plastics,” “finance”.

— Joe S.

Let them go under.

— Tony C.

Wow … the sheer vitriol dripping from your comments is … honestly, it’s a bit impressive. I don’t know whether to be proud of you or to start locking my doors.

As I’ve said several times here in Great Stuff, I don’t like stock buybacks — at all. It’s a company telling me they have nothing better to do with their money … nothing to invest or reinvest in. No new ideas to grow.

And now, those companies are paying the price. Well, somewhat of a price. A lot of them just got bailed out by the government … again.

It’s Not Over

Still doesn’t feel like the bottom.

I don’t see enough anger / despair that would mark the point at which all the buyers are exhausted.

Love your work – thanks!

— Gary W.

I believe it’s not over till people go back to work… I am a supplier to GM, laid off until the 13th… even then I could be laid off longer depending on how orders rise or fall… at the time of the layoff orders were down 15% before the virus hit…

— Timothy C.

Most of your subscribers, I’m sure, want rosy pictures. Most investors do. They want to catch the bottom of the V. This time it’s an L, though.

By end of May most airlines in the world will go bankrupt. Restaurants, bars, gyms, taxis. Hotels, travel agencies, tourist attractions. Shops, malls, import/export companies. Trucking, railways, bus liners. Cinemas, museums, stadiums…

Investment banks with derivatives exposure, ETF spinners, trading houses, oil companies, automakers and aerospace are in trouble. Possibly miners too. And schools.

But investors want to believe that the FED is going to fix it all. Thing is, we should hope the FED doesn’t try. If they do, we’re all going to wake up with 1000s of $ in our pockets, and nothing to spend it on.

The ONLY moneys (FED or fiscal) that should be spent is on buying test kits from Russia, respirators from Elon Musk, hospital beds and walls. The ONE thing we need is a victory against the virus. Nothing else.

— Dan W.

Dan the man, you hit the nose on the head … or something like that. And Timothy, you are absolutely right.

This is what Great Stuff has said for a while. You can pass a $2 trillion spending bill to help things along, but it won’t magically rehire 3.28 million workers filing for unemployment. It won’t stop the virus from spreading.

Hunker down, dear readers. It’s going to be a rough ride. But, if you stay tuned in to Great Stuff and BanyanHill.com, I promise to keep telling you like it is and help guide you through the storm.

Finally, a shoutout to Angela O., Christine P., Phil G. and the others who have offered Great Stuff support for telling you the truth. Sticks and stones … you know. Thank you all!

Have you written in yet? What’s stopping you? Drop me a line at GreatStuffToday@banyanhill.com and let me know how you’re doing out there in this crazy market.

That’s a wrap for today. But if you’re still craving more Great Stuff, you can check us out on social media: Facebook and Twitter.

Until next time, good trading!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Editor, Great Stuff

[goldira01]

Denial, Seems It Had to Come

I warned you it was coming. I warned you it’d be bad.

Relied on me to say it all. (Any Sevendust fans out there? No? Oh well…)

Weekly jobless claims arrived today, and they were record-breaking. The U.S. Department of Labor reported that 3.28 million Americans filed for unemployment benefits last week.

That’s 15 times the number of people who filed two weeks ago … and five times the previous record of 695,000 claims set in 1982. It was more than the peak number of claims during both the Great Recession and the Great Depression.

3.28 million Americans out of work — all because of the coronavirus (or the panic along with it).

The situation is so bad — How bad is it? — that Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell appeared on the Today show to reassure Americans that the U.S. central bank is on our side.

“The Federal Reserve is working hard to support you now and our policies will be very important when the recovery does come,” Powell said.

The Takeaway: 

Let’s think about the situation for a minute.

The head of the U.S. Federal Reserve — the guy who’s responsible for the country’s most powerful financial institution — felt it was necessary to reassure the American people on a popular morning show.

On one hand, that’s somewhat comforting … Powell taking time out of his busy day to tell everyone that it’ll all be OK.

On the other, it shows just how badly the situation has deteriorated. We now have the head of the Fed offering reassurance, not some lackey.

Oh, and those 3.28 million jobless claims? The market shrugged them off.

It seems that most of Wall Street believes that the worst is now behind us. Peter Boockvar, chief investment officer at Bleakley Advisory Group, summed up the Street’s opinion pretty well:

We all know the pain being felt and the economic damage being caused by this damn virus but because we are so close to getting past the worst of the spread, we need to start getting creative about what the restart will look like.

So close to getting past the worst of the spread?

The U.S. is about a month behind Italy in terms of COVID-19’s spread, and Italy hasn’t even peaked yet. We’re three months behind China, and it’s just now seeing the end of community spread. Both countries went into complete lockdown. While individual states have gone this route, the U.S. as a whole has not.

As hopeful as I want to be … as hopeful as Wall Street wants to be … we aren’t close to getting past the worst of the spread.

As the nation’s top infectious disease expert, Dr. Anthony Fauci, put it: “You don’t make the timeline, the virus makes the timeline.”

But … but the $2 trillion coronavirus rescue bill!

Yes, I hear you out there … protesting my negativity again. The Senate’s bill will blunt the impact, to be sure. But it can’t stop what’s already happening. Despite reassurances that everything will just bounce back … that this isn’t really a long-term economic problem in the U.S. … let me tell you now: It is.

What? You think the U.S. economy could just hire back those 3.28 million out-of-work Americans tomorrow if the coronavirus magically disappeared? Nope. It doesn’t work like that.

But, while the U.S. economy is going down, down in an early round, sugar we’re going down swinging. And Great Stuff will be your No. 1 with a bullet. A loaded market complex … cock it and pull it.

Now, here’s the thing — and listen up, all ye positivity seekers!

Just as the virus chooses the timeline for this whole crazy shebang…

Only you choose your investing timeline. Only you decide if you keep hanging in there.

If you ask expert Charles Mizrahi, the situation is crystal clear. You could either:

Capture peak gains like 300%, 500% and 600%.

Or let the market turmoil and the virus’s impact eat away your financial future.

Gains like those? In this kind of market?!

Yes, dear reader — there’s potential in any market. See, according to Charles: “What you do in this current meltdown will make all the difference on what your net worth will be in the next five years.”

So, while other folks around you join the fleeing fearful, you have a chance to gain a leg up. In fact, Charles Mizrahi thinks this moment is so crucial he recorded a special video presentation on how to leave all this market panic behind.

Click here now.

The Good: Remote Connections               

Investors are falling in love with Micron Technology Inc. (Nasdaq: MU) in a hopeless place today.

The flash memory maker beat Wall Street’s second-quarter earnings and revenue estimates and issued solid third-quarter guidance.

In fact, Micron appears to benefit from COVID-19 lockdowns around the world. In its post-earnings conference call, the company highlighted rising demand for PCs, notebooks and other devices as more people work and study from home.

Furthermore, Micron noted additional demand in the data center market, as companies push to beef up cloud computing storage and performance amid spiking remote demand.

While now is clearly the time to be cautious about buying anything in the market, Micron is one company to keep on your short list of potential winners in this brave new world.

The Bad: 1 Bourbon, 1 Scotch, 1 Beer

Wanna tell you a story about the Cheesecake Factory Inc. (Nasdaq: CAKE) blues…

I read the headlines one particular Thursday and saw that Cheesecake Factory had lost its jobs. But that don’t confront me, long as I get my money next Thursday. Next Thursday come, and they didn’t have the rent … and out the door I went.

Seriously though, the Cheesecake Factory just sent a letter to its landlords that it won’t pay rent in April due to the coronavirus. Here’s an excerpt from a letter to landlords from CEO David Overton:

The severe decrease in restaurant traffic has severely decreased our cash flow and inflicted a tremendous financial blow to our business. Due to these extraordinary events, I am asking for your patience and, frankly, your help.

And it’s not just Cheesecake Factory acting kinda funny … everybody funny … now you funny too. Retailers, from clothier H&M to fast-foodie Subway, are all struggling to make rent.

If anything reinforces the idea that the COVID-19 situation is far from over, it’s retailers not paying rent. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time for a few drinks.

The Ugly: Old Junker

Growing up in rural Kentucky, I lived through the great Ford versus Chevy wars and endured many a heated argument on the topic. “Ford Don’t Make Junk” was among the many stickers plastered on the windows and tailgates of F-150s for as far as the eye could see.

Turns out, those bumper stickers weren’t quite accurate. Today, S&P Global Ratings cut Ford Motor Co.’s (NYSE: F) bonds to junk status. The ratings firm lowered Ford’s credit rating to BB+ (junk status) and said that it may lower its rating further as the coronavirus’s impact spreads.

S&P isn’t alone in its “junk” rating on Ford, however. Moody’s Investors Service cut its credit rating on the Big Blue Oval twice in the past month, citing a “credit shock” for automakers across the board.

But Ford has an answer … it plans on reopening production at key plants in April, including its Dearborn, Michigan, and Kentucky truck plants, its Kansas City Assembly Plant’s transit line and its Ohio Assembly Plant.

That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m pretty sure the United Auto Workers Union will have something to say about this. And it won’t be pretty.

You Marco, I Polo … it’s Reader Feedback time!

Let me just say, you guys have been busy … or maybe you’re just bored after being locked in your homes for days on end.

In the past week, Great Stuff received a veritable flood of comments with two common themes: You absolutely despise bailouts (especially for airlines) and you don’t think the market rout is over.

Let’s dive right into your comments:

The Unfriendly Skies

NO BAILOUT TO THOSE WHO BOUGHT BACK STOCK

— Stan B.

Airline bailout NOT. Only if that Airline assists our American citizens stuck away from their respective residents need to get home. Not for anyone just traveling. Bailout? Why do they need it as they have gouged the travelers for transporting their necessary luggage to the tune of millions of dollars of profit while still collecting their usual air fares. Why should we bail out these huge corporations. Use that money to help the smaller companies to keep their doors open. I personally am sick of seeing billions bailing out these high corporations that only turn around and use that money for the top management so called golden parachutes. Stop this madness of government bailouts.

— Peggy B.

Pigs to the trough, as usual. And, why should it shock you that R’s have no problems throwing tons of money at pillars of industry? Well, not exactly industry. Finance! That’s the magic word The Graduate should have been told. Not “plastics,” “finance”.

— Joe S.

Let them go under.

— Tony C.

Wow … the sheer vitriol dripping from your comments is … honestly, it’s a bit impressive. I don’t know whether to be proud of you or to start locking my doors.

As I’ve said several times here in Great Stuff, I don’t like stock buybacks — at all. It’s a company telling me they have nothing better to do with their money … nothing to invest or reinvest in. No new ideas to grow.

And now, those companies are paying the price. Well, somewhat of a price. A lot of them just got bailed out by the government … again.

It’s Not Over

Still doesn’t feel like the bottom.

I don’t see enough anger / despair that would mark the point at which all the buyers are exhausted.

Love your work – thanks!

— Gary W.

I believe it’s not over till people go back to work… I am a supplier to GM, laid off until the 13th… even then I could be laid off longer depending on how orders rise or fall… at the time of the layoff orders were down 15% before the virus hit…

— Timothy C.

 Most of your subscribers, I’m sure, want rosy pictures. Most investors do. They want to catch the bottom of the V. This time it’s an L, though.

By end of May most airlines in the world will go bankrupt. Restaurants, bars, gyms, taxis. Hotels, travel agencies, tourist attractions. Shops, malls, import/export companies. Trucking, railways, bus liners. Cinemas, museums, stadiums…

Investment banks with derivatives exposure, ETF spinners, trading houses, oil companies, automakers and aerospace are in trouble. Possibly miners too. And schools.

But investors want to believe that the FED is going to fix it all. Thing is, we should hope the FED doesn’t try. If they do, we’re all going to wake up with 1000s of $ in our pockets, and nothing to spend it on.

The ONLY moneys (FED or fiscal) that should be spent is on buying test kits from Russia, respirators from Elon Musk, hospital beds and walls. The ONE thing we need is a victory against the virus. Nothing else.

— Dan W.

Dan the man, you hit the nose on the head … or something like that. And Timothy, you are absolutely right.

This is what Great Stuff has said for a while. You can pass a $2 trillion spending bill to help things along, but it won’t magically rehire 3.28 million workers filing for unemployment. It won’t stop the virus from spreading.

Hunker down, dear readers. It’s going to be a rough ride. But, if you stay tuned in to Great Stuff and BanyanHill.com, I promise to keep telling you like it is and help guide you through the storm.

Finally, a shoutout to Angela O., Christine P., Phil G. and the others who have offered Great Stuff support for telling you the truth. Sticks and stones … you know. Thank you all!

Have you written in yet? What’s stopping you? Drop me a line at GreatStuffToday@banyanhill.com and let me know how you’re doing out there in this crazy market.

That’s a wrap for today. But if you’re still craving more Great Stuff, you can check us out on social media: Facebook and Twitter.

Until next time, good trading!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Editor, Great Stuff