#almost sold my kidney for this one

[cositapreciosa]

Meeting Chepe in New York and him bring you back to Cali for a party/meeting the rest of the gang 👀

Red lipstick

Chepe Santacruz x female!reader (infidelity/cheating, mention of Y/N, mention of drug use, the usual for the show), 3679 words

a/n : - Yo Élise, where were you all this time? Were you dead?

- *cue to picture of that dry-ass taxidermy fox* seasonal depression my dude

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

You can see it as a business meeting, an opportunity for you to go bigger.

That is what Chepe had said to you one day as you met him for your usual drop. Offering you a trip to Colombia, to meet the big ones from overseas, those that completed his inner circle. You had been reselling for him for a few years now, never once coming to a dollar short and definitely ranking in the profit. Probably the best card you got in your deck, Santacruz, am I not?

You never were looking to make it big in this type of business. Selling just enough to be sure to stay afloat, pay your mortgage, feed the people you love, and buy those pieces of jewelry, that a year ago would have been for you a rent’s worth, just because you liked how they shined when you passed the counter display. Greed, envy, lust. It had crawled in your veins fast, venomous, pumping in your blood. Still, just enough to always buy your favorite, to-die-for, 90$ red lipstick every time it ran out, but never enough to get cocky, stupid, reckless.

You loved luxury, lived in it, smelled like it, but you always remembered how red your blood was, how easy it could be spilled. You saw the way the government was knocking more and more doors down, came for the smaller ones before fishing for the big sharks, but all the others didn’t. It’s a war, sweetheart, Chepe had called it, a war on drugs. Teeth filled with gold, snorting all types of white powders, guns-a-blazing, cuffed and judged by justice just as fast. There’s a quiet side to riches that those men never understood. It was what had separated you from the others who had climbed the ranks with you over the years, you had realized. Maybe that’s why you are here today, setting foot down a jet on Colombian soil, or maybe it was just the start of the hardest fall of your life.

As you looked at your shoes, already full of dust, you wondered if there was a time you had ever seen so much dirt on a landing strip before. You don’t have much time to think about it or to worry about the wind pushing your hair or the dirt in your mouth, that Chepe is already in front of you, arms wide open,

‘’ Bienvenido en la capital mundial de la salsa, sweetheart. ‘’

Your smile is bright, pulling at your cheeks, lips painted red, welcoming. A deadly trap. Chepe knows all of this, the facade that goes in the character you play. The survival instinct, the street smart. You made it this far didn’t you?

‘’ Well, I’m more of a bachata dancer myself, but I can make salsa work. ‘’

You had fucked him once. When his wife had been away, doing whatever she did when she went on those trips of hers. All teeth, handfuls of flesh, bent over the balcony. Maybe it had been more than once. Maybe you didn’t feel so bad because you knew she most likely did the same when she claimed she was going on shopping trips with friends. You could always tell with those women for some reason, you could see it in their eyes, it wasn’t hard to miss. You could see it in his too, how he had always known. If he cared or not was still the missing piece.

You take his extended hand to jump off the last step. The heat is heavy, weirdly humid, and dry at the same time. Still, his hand is steady, not a bead of sweat on his forehead, his usually heavy coat switched for a striped shirt. Colombiano born and raised. You did tell him stripes looked good on him once.

This is it, you thought, no turning back, the top of the ladder. The top of the food chain. You just have to shake hands and smile.

.

The ride to civilization had been bumpy, long, and trying your best to understand your driver with the thickest Costeño accent you had ever heard. A fair price to pay for landing on an illegal dirt patch in the middle of a Colombian jungle.

Chepe had left you with his driver and a bodyguard back at the landing field, slipping you in the passenger seat, making sure your hair didn’t get stuck in the door as he closed it,

‘’ I trust those two with my life. I’ll pick you up at the hotel tommorow ? ‘’

All teeth, handfuls of flesh, bent over the balcony.

‘’ How else am I supposed to empty the mini-bar then? ‘’

Hands gripping your waist, pining you against the shower wall.

It's later that day after he's been gone for hours and your lipstick has been reapplied, that he calls your room phone. You press your lips together, spreading the color evenly, as it rings some more. You take your finger up to your mouth, swiping the excess stain with your nail. Done. Your heels click on the marble floors on your way out of the bathroom,

‘’ Miss me already? ‘’

It's a party, he had said, near the water, you’ll love it.

He scoffs, as you disconnected the call. The more 6 o’clock gets near, the more all of your being screams at you to leave, clawing at your mind to run, not to look back. You know you should, that he would let you call it off and go back home. But the more you want it, the more you itch to open the safe where your passport is locked, and the more you realize you can’t.

You won’t.

The ride over there is less bumping than when you first got here. Jetlag is busting your ass, and your concealer is working hard to keep it unnoticed. Chepe is dressed up for the occasion as always. Chains, gold rings, a nice striped long-sleeved shirt. Maybe you’ll take all of it off tonight.

He’s driving this time, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh. You’re not sure if you like how familiar the move feels. Domestic. Wrong and right at the same time.

‘’ If this is about my wife, ‘’ he had said, with his arms around you, his chin in your hair, ‘’ I’ll leave her. ‘’

You had mentioned stopping everything when he had dropped by earlier. If I actually do this and meet them, I don’t think I can keep fucking you if I want to be taken seriously. Panic clawing at your chest, the reality of your work, the constant threats. There was no way for this to end well for you. For him.

‘’ Ask me and I’ll do it. I’ll call her right now. ‘’

He smelled like cigar and cologne, his palms sneaking under your shirt, warm on your stomach, soft, grounding,

‘’ This is not about her, ‘’ you had explained, head falling on his shoulder as he nuzzled into your neck, ‘’ This is about me, Chepe. About my work. Credibility. ‘’

His other hand pulled at your skirt, feeling the lace underneath. He molds you to him, unbelievably closer now. You felt him shiver against you, felt his breath behind your ear, the goosebump on your arms,

‘’ Tell me, ‘’ he had started with a groan, bringing the material over your waist, his other hand gently wrapping around your throat,

‘’ Tell me whoever dares, and I’ll make sure myself they never speak again. ‘’

You don’t doubt his words for a second.

The automatic light illuminates the garage as soon as Chepe drives the car in. You’ve never seen a garage this big. Cars lined up left to right, every one of them shinier than the other. What a waste of space.

He maneuvers his between two bright red-looking expensive ones. His toothpick rolls on his lips, leaning back against his seat, one hand on the wheel, as he changes gears. He couldn’t care less if he scratched one. Pocket change.

‘’ I probably should have stayed in my room and gotten another 8 hours of sleep. ‘’

He laughs, hearty, loud, deep, as if you’ve just told him the funniest joke of the night. His thumb rubs your thigh,

‘’ Are you going to stand me up? At your own party? ‘’

His attempt at lightening up the mood. In a way, it does, pushing your insecurities and anxieties to the side for a second. He can tell you hesitate, putting off the moment you step out of the car and have to do the grown-up illegal things you have gotten yourself into. You’re not that tired, caffeinated for two, and ready to throw punches if needed. Not that you would have to, with Chepe hot on your heels wherever you go, but it feels like it could calm you down, give you back some control maybe,

‘’ Oh, you’d do just fine I am sure. ‘’ you try to smile back.

You stay silent for a while, more like seconds really, but it feels relaxing and comforting. His hand is still warm on your skin. You always appreciated how he could understand those moments, never feeling like he had to fill it with words.

His thumb presses slightly on the inside of your thigh, bringing your attention back to him. It is darker now in the car, the automatic light having shut off seconds ago,

‘’ I wish I could introduce you as mine. ‘’

You can make out his side profile, the way his fingers drum on the wheel. You sigh,

‘’ José- ‘’

‘’ Ya, por favor, ‘’ he pleads, annoyed, ‘’ You always do this. ‘’

His hand comes up to scratch his stubble, moving down to where his neck meets his shoulder. He massages the skin, before his arm drops, defeated. Chepe moves in his seat, knees turning slightly to your side of the car. He leans toward you and you don’t understand why you feel nervous all of sudden. Anxious.

Homesick.

‘’ I know you think I’m not genuine. That I’m only saying this to make you happy. ‘’

For the first time in months, you don’t know what to say. He is right. Absolutely and utterly right. You don’t believe him when he says it. When he promises you travels, family parties, a career, a ring. You don’t believe easily, and you know what happens to the other women who naively listen and nod. You have seen it happen time and time again.

You sigh, falling back into your seat, trying to disappear inside the leather behind your back,

‘’ I like you a lot, Chepe. ‘’

You sigh, you don’t know where you are going with this. You can’t seem to be thinking ahead, about what you should say or not. Weirdly enough, in one of the most dangerous countries in the world, in an unknown garage, in a village you have forgotten the name of already, next to him, you feel safe. You don’t feel like you should tiptoe around his feelings, yours for that matter.

Your head rolls to the side to meet his gaze, your fingertips raising to touch his face. His brown eyes are on you, pupils blown from the darkness. Sharp nails follow his cheekbone softly, moving up to his freshly cut hair, pushing the loose grey strands back into place. His hand is on your wrist now, going up and down as he caresses the skin,

‘’ A lot. ‘’ you scoff, you realize.

So do I, he wants to say, Y yo a ti, his silence means. You want to lean in, break the space between you, kiss him, end this conversation and force him to bring you inside. You meet his eyes again as your nails roam behind his ear. You know he would let you, but here, today, you don’t think this is what you want,

‘’ We are being honest here, right? ‘’ he whispers, like a secret being shared between you two. You nod softly,

‘’ Talk to me. Tell me. ‘’ The truth, he means, how you really feel about this, ‘’ I’ve got all night. ‘’

You know he means it. Chepe would stay in this car all night if you decided to, he can tell how different the moment has gotten. Twenty minutes ago you would have laughed to tears, reapplied your lipstick, and gotten out of the car. The facade that goes in the character you play. He is still not sure what changed, but it makes him want you to be honest with him, to be true to what you know. Goosebumps spreads across your arm, following the warmth of his palm,

‘’ I want it. ‘’ you begin, toes wiggling inside your heel, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, ‘’ When you say you want to introduce me as yours. ‘’

It takes all his being not to surge forward to take your face between his hands. Then let me, let me. Your breath comes out shaky when you exhale as if you had been holding it for the last minute,

‘’ I am being honest, ‘’ you reassured, he knows you are. You had had deep conversations with Chepe before, nights spent sitting on your balcony, smoking and talking about life and all the things in between. His past, yours. Colombia, New York. Your hand falls to his neck, gently stroking his stubble with your thumb. It’s rough and it’s keeping you grounded, in the car, with him,

‘’ I wouldn’t mind if you did. ‘’ you admit, ‘’ I’d let you. ‘’

You don’t feel weak for telling him like you thought you would. Chepe brings your palm to his mouth, kissing the skin softly. Saying anything else would ruin the moment, and you are thankful he stays silent again. You can hear the music inside, voices laughing and screaming behind the closed door, and you know it is time for you to go and join the crowd. Do what you came here to do in the first place.

You lean between the seats, the cup holder pushing painfully against your ribs, and your hand falls from his lips as you rest your head against his shoulder. His shirt is coarse on your cheek and his fingers soft when he intertwines them with yours. Your thumbnail traces shapes on the back of his hand while you speak again,

‘’ I don’t think I’ve ever been this anxious in my whole life. ‘’

‘’ I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you were up for it. ‘’

You hmm, and he can feel the sound vibrate through his shoulder,

‘’ It’s what you do back home, but here. Your Spanish is great, you’ll fit right in, mija. ‘’ he reassures,‘’ I’ll take care of you. ‘’

He emphasizes the words by gently squeezing your joint hands. You know he will, he always does. You know lots of things about him and that lying, to you at least, is not something he would do. We are being honest here, right? You reluctantly let him go, motioning to him to go ahead, body pulling away, your hand sliding back to your thigh. As he gets out of the car, the lights illuminate the garage again. Bright, blinding. Your eyes follow him around the hood of the car until he reaches your door, pulling it open,

‘’ Let’s do some work now, hm? ‘’

He presents his hand to you, his heart skipping a beat when you accept it, pressing yours against his while your swing your legs to the side to get out.

One step after the other, your heels click on the cement as you walk towards the door that leads inside the house. Breathe, smile, shake hands, repeat. Chepe’s hand reaches blindly for you behind him, and you grab it, just like he expects you to do. Blood is pumping in your ears, so loud that it is almost overtaking the music around you. This is exactly where you want to be, precisely what you planned. Inhale with the nose, and exhale through the mouth. It doesn’t come as fast as you would’ve liked, but slowly, air fills up your lungs. It is a weird feeling, really, how after only a few breaths you can feel your body tingle, calm and lightheaded. Revigorated. All part of the facade.

Your smile doesn’t falter when you meet the first few people, low associates, executants. It is bright, all white teeth and red lipstick. They make no comment, no sarcastic remarks about Chepe’s hand on your back, you let him lower it, let it curve around your waist. His eyes burning and threatening enough that no one dares to look for too long.

Your cheeks hurt, jaw a bit sore from speaking Spanish for the past hour, but the wine feels good and bitter down your throat, helping make those meetings bearable. Chepe is beaming, all laughs and handshakes, like a true socialite, a fish in water. You enjoy watching him more than you do partake in this whole thing. It is different for him here, and you can tell. You thought you would have been the last one arriving at the house, and as much as Chepe shuts down any remarks about the time you spent in the garage and as much as you pretend not to understand what they imply, you know words have already spread in the villa. Staying civilized in this jungle is harder than you would have thought.

It happens merely minutes after Chepe excuses himself to fill up your drink, the shift in the room. How everyone stands taller, pushes their shoulders back, sobering up. Whoever supplier Chepe left you with does not have eyes for you anymore. Here they are. The lions.

You see Pacho first, in the corner of your eye. You can tell it is him, from his silk shirt to his waxed brown shoes, from Chepe’s stories, there is no doubt in your mind. You have to bite first, you think, use this fake confidence to your advantage, and make this meeting yours. Your new wannabe-gangster friend had already abandoned you the second they entered the room. You have no choice but to stand your ground and stay tall too.

You force a smile on your cheeks as you turn to him, charming and warm. Pain and Chepe’s absence be damned. Pacho’s smile mirrors your own, like an old friend, a deadly trap. You like him already, you decide, not so different from you, you can tell. Cunning. Smart.

Your glass of wine is quickly put back in your hands, splashing around in the cup, as your man pushes at the guests around you to meet Pacho’s embrace with a laugh. They exchange quickly in Spanish, how are you doing, how’s the weather over there ? You let them catch up, soaking in how easily the moment flows, perfectly happy to stand on the sideline.

Chepe half turns to you, still going on to Pacho about this plane story of his that you have been waiting for the punchline for a while now. His hand finds your waist, absently bringing you closer to the two of them.

‘’ Hermano, ‘’ he begins, ‘’ Let me introduce you. ‘’

You don’t know what burns more, his warm fingers pressing gently into your skin or how Pacho’s eyes catch him doing it. You had agreed to this, but still, stares and looking eyes make you feel uncomfortable. He leads, you remind yourself, he knows, let him.

‘’ This is Y/N, ‘’ Chepe smiles, chest puffed out, proud, ‘’ My favorite partner in crime. ‘’

Pacho’s eyes are back on you, not on Chepe, not on his hand on your back. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The air feels lighter, your fingers regain color around your glass. You let yourself fall back slightly into Chepe’s embrace, putting some of your weight on him. You share some stories about Pacho’s favorite clubs in New York, how you have to change entry port from now on after the last DEA bust, and how the margins are still going up even though.

‘’ You want another? ‘’ Chepe leans towards you, softly speaking the words in your ear, nodding to your empty cup,

‘’ I’d love that. ‘’ you say back, turning, nose almost catching his, ‘’ Maybe white this time, please? ‘’

‘’ Por supuesto, reina. ‘’

You don’t miss how Pacho’s eyes flicker back for a second on Chepe as he leaves. Pacho clears his throat, looking at you over his whiskey,

‘’ So, ‘’ he starts, ‘’ Favorite partner, favorite reina. ‘’

You nod, sending a smile his way, playful, trying to keep it civilized,

‘’ I’m his favorite lie detector too. I’m never wrong.‘’

Pacho laughs, thank god. He holds out his hand to you, and you put yours in his, giving it a nice shake,

‘’ You take care of him good? ‘’

His hand is firm in yours, he makes no move to withdraw, standing there, a step closer now. You get it then, why his handshake is so strong, why his eyes are sharp and serious, menacing. Brotherhood.

‘’ I do. ‘’ you stand your ground, hand unmoving, arm strong and chin up, ‘’ As he does to me. ‘’

He lets go of your hand as he turns to discard his drink, switching it for two champagne glasses that he swiftly takes from a nearby waiter,

‘’ Good. Good.‘’

You watch him look around, almost bored, unimpressed by all the festivities. Pacho takes a sip first, nodding in approval before holding up the second flute toward you for you to grab,

‘’ You know what I think, Y/N? ‘’

He smiles at you, knowing, sincere. He toasts the rim of his glass against yours, making a stream of bubbles burst from the bottom,

‘’ I think you and I will do great things around here. ‘’

[vampirebloodie]

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x reader?

Reader gave Adam a bunch of hickies while he was asleep in his dark room/photography room. Adam ends up waking up getting kidnapped & then wakes up in the bathroom with Dr. Gordon. Adam is worried about scars/stollen kidneys that would be later sold on EBay. Dr. Gordon ends up stating that he sees no scars, but definitely sees lots of hickies. Adam is gets shy & embarrassed.

Hi anon, thanks for your suggestion, hope you like 💖

Sweet Mouth | Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x Reader

Warnings: fluff (?), mentions of bathroom trap

You waited for Adam for a long time lying in the bed you shared with him every night, or that you used to share, since he was so busy with work to pay the bills that he barely had time to spend with you. You missed him so much, but you understood his needs.

Tired of waiting, you got up from your bed and walked in calm steps to Adam's photography room, where you found him sleeping under a pile of printed photos, you got close to him and looked at the photos, in all of them there was a blond man who always seemed to be distracted. You ignored him and got close to Adam, trying to wake him up, without success, he was spending so many nights without sleeping properly that when sleep finally reached him he spent more hours than usual sleeping.

“Hey babe. You need to sleep in our bed...”

You spoke, trying to wake him up, but he just blinked a few times and closed his eyes again, you noticed his uncovered neck, the marks you had left were almost gone, as were the ones he had left on your neck. You brought your mouth closer to his skin and left light kisses and bites, Adam let out a few low sighs, seeing the marks of your lips began to come to life on his pale neck, you stopped.

“Why are you doing this?”

He asked confused and sleeped, you laughed.

“I love you, and this how i show my love for you.”

You kissed his lips and he smiled.

“Oh yeah, i know. Let me show my love for you too.”

He pushed you by your waist and started to kissed your neck, you laughed together until he decided that your neck was marked enough and then he stopped.

“I love you too. Go to bed, sweetheart, i will go in few minutes, i just need to finished that, don't worry.”

“I will wait for you another day, i feel tired. Have a good night.”

“You too, babe.”

He wished and you went back to the room, he would wake up with some pain in his neck, but it would be solely his fault that he hadn't come to bed with you. Anyway, he always appeared next to you the next day, you just didn't feel it due to the extremely heavy sleep you had.

----------------

“Hey, wake up! Hey!!!”

Adam heard someone calling him, his neck was hurting and he couldn't see anything, he also didn't recognize the place where he was, it was damp and had a horrible smell. A light was turned on, making his eyes burn and he soon realized where he was, it was an old, dirty and smelly bathroom, his foot was tied to a chain, attached to an old and rusty pipe.

In front of him was another man on a chain, who he quickly recognized as the doctor he had been paid to take some photos of recently, Dr. Lawrence Gordon, who was looking at him suspiciously.

“What’s your name?”

Lawrence asked and Adam rolled his eyes.

“My name is Very Fucking Confused; what’s your name?”

“Lawrence. What's the last thing you remember?”

“Nothing important! I slept in my shithole room apartment, while my girlfriend was sleeping in our bed, and i woke up in an actual shithole. Wait wait... Do you see any scars?”

“What? Scars?”

Gordon asked confused.

“Huh? This is what they do man! They kidnap and drug you, before you know it you're lying in a bathtub and your kidneys are on eBay!”

“No one has taken your kidneys.”

“How can you tell from way over there?”

“Because you'd need to be in terrible agony or you'd be dead by now, trust me.”

“What are you? A surgeon?”

“Yeah. Someone didn't take your kidneys, but almost token your neck.”

The doctor said and Adam looked at him with a weird look.

"What do you mean?"

He started to touch his neck, worried.

“Not in the literal way. But you have a lot of red and purple marks on your neck, kisses and bite marks. Your night was great before you woke up here.”

“Hickies?”

“A lot of them. You got attacked.”

He said in a funny way and Adam started to get red and look at other places in the bathroom, not in Lawrence's face, he was feeling so embarrassed, he and you liked to give hickies on each other necks, but he always hid from others people, unfortunately he couldn't hide this time

“Don’t be embarassed. I think every teenager do that.”

Lawrence tried to confort him.

“Well i'm not a teenager, and i don't know where is my girlfriend.”

“If this conforts you, i don't know where is my wife too.”

“I think if you had hickies on your neck i would be more contorted than in that situation.”

Final note: please reblog if you liked!

[putschki1969]

Hi Sarah! Not sure if you had any experience with this, but since FJ Asia Tours were announced, how do I buy tickets? JP has the mega-confusing fanclub/lotto system, so I'm not sure if the same applies to their overseas lives. I'm not even sure if a service like Ticketmaster is available for the venues FJ will be performing at. Any help would be amazing, thank you!!!

Hello there!

For those who are wondering, anon is referring to these news here =>

Overseas Performances Added to the YKL Vol.#20 Tour Line-up

No details have been announced yet, but this year’s tour will once again get an Asia leg. The performances are scheduled for November 2024. YK and her team will be returning to Shanghai (China), and will be performing for the first time in Guangzhou (China), Bangkok (Thailand), and Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia). More details will be announced soon. (Source)

It's a good question but I'm afraid I'm not particularly knowledgeable on the topic. Here's what I know〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

Local event organisers will most likely be in charge of these concerts and they will be updating their audiences on all the ticket information in the next few weeks/months. Also, the Japanese entertainment service PGE has been heavily involved in last year's Asia tour so they might coordinate a lot of this year's finer details as well (especially when it comes to the venues in China => Shanghai and Guangzhou). It would probably pay off to keep an eye on their official homepage.

In most cases, overseas concerts will have a normal ticket sale with different ticket prices depending on seat category. The sale will be handled by a local ticket company, by a Japanese one (like PGE as mentioned above) or by both. It is unlikely that you will be confronted with most of the usual hurdles that are unique to the Japanese ticketing system so that's a big plus. However, that does not mean that it will be easy for non-locals to get their hands on a ticket. I would assume that the language barrier alone would be too much to deal with for most of us (especially if tickets are sold on regional apps that are almost impossible to navigate for anyone who is not familiar with them). With any luck, you won't have to sell your left kidney and jump through a bunch of impossible verification hoops to register on the local ticket website/app. If they also offer overseas payment options, you've pretty much succeeded. But honestly, we'll just have to wait and see...

From my own experience, I can recommend finding a local who is willing to help you out. I certainly wouldn't have been able to attend the YK live in Taiwan back in 2019 if it hadn't been for some super kind fellow fans. I owe them my eternal gratitude for pretty much holding my hand throughout the entire experience.

Right now I am kinda eyeing the concert in Bangkok because I have a friend there who is very convincing in her efforts to make me want to visit her. But again, I would 100% be relying on her assistance and that's something you always have to take into account when making decisions like that.

[acacey]

REMEMBER WHEN THESE FIRST CAME OUT AND EVERYONE WAS SELLING THEIR LEFT KIDNEY JUST TO OBTAIN THESE BAD BOIS?? (The 6 card Sanrio Amiibo collection)

So, here's what went down in my hometown, these were being sold ONLY at Target.

One day without even knowing they were released, I saw them at Target, it was the last one left!! I obviously nabbed it because I absolutely love Sanrio.

Then the internet happened... and people started scalping them and buying them all and then selling them for almost $100. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Anyways, yeah so I am VERY thankful that I ran across them early enough!

Did anyone else get lucky enough to get these??

[noctivague]

Revamping my altar - Part 01🙃

Let's ingnore the fact that I ghosted my blog for the most part of this year and jump right in as if nothing happened....

Starting point

I'm a very aesthetically driven person and I'm bored with my current altar, which has been remained the same for a long time. (I thought I had a picture but I don't and it's gone now so oops...)

I want to create something that puts me in an inspired mood just by looking at it. That looks inviting and beautiful and brings me delight and motivation. A little sanctuary nook kinda.

I want to revitalize things and symbolize the new era i'm in, due to the fact that i recently moved into a new flat, got a new job, and overall my life is very different than it was last year.

So here is the journey of making my new altar :) At the moment it's far from done but here is the first part of the process!

Part 02 will follow once I've received the things I ordered, probably at the end of November or early December.

Inspirations

So i went on a quest to find inspirations on pinterest that would sort of align with what i wanted to make.

ngl I dislike most of what I see because I find them too cluttered for my personal taste. The main issue is that i'm clumsy and i hate the idea of my hand having to slither through a forest of objects to be able to grab what i want lol

Still managed to find a few cool examples, here they are:

I love the rough, folk-esque, natural aspects of them, the blend of stone, marble and wood. The branches, the sculptures, the iconic symbols and the fact that there is a variety of heights of things, if that makes sense. I also like having a strong art piece in the middle, which i prefer over having a mirror like many examples i found. Idk i just find the idea of having to stare at myself at my altar a bit uncomfortable lol

But it's still different from what would be authentic for me and also i gotta do with what i have or what i can buy.

The thing is that my altar is not dedicated to a single deity so i can't go with one strong themed vibe but i have to put them all together. Currently, Apollo, Artemis, Hekate, Dionysos, Hermes and Demeter share the same space.

Furniture

Thankfully the new book shelf I got is quite wide and has three levels, which is plenty enough space to give everyone their own space and even host my incense, tarot cards and spiritual books.

I almost sold a kidney to get an antique cabinet, which looked really cool but was not going to fit in with the interior style of my living room, where my altar is located.

So I went in with a more modern yet slightly organic-shaped one:

Not 100% what I was looking for but at least the space is there. Love the curves an the contrast of the two colors, but I wish the wood was darker. I could sand and re-varnish but who's got time for that.

Current state of the sculptures

I've been collecting sculptures and hand painting them for a while now (you can check out my pinned post for pictures of some of them), and although I love what I made, I really want to get some new ones that are higher and I'm even wondering if I should just keep them white and gold instead of colorful.

Also, for the life of me, I can't find a sculpture of Hekate that I like. They either look too bland or too new-agey for my taste. At the moment, I have the classic three women holding torches and stuff that I hand painted in blue, yellow and silver, but idk it's not what I have in mind and I think I'm just going to resort to do clay modelling myself. I'll probably do a separate post for the process!

Btw I'll do a free giveaway in the future to re-home my old sculptures so stay tuned for that!

What I have in mind

Sooo I'm not sure of the exact height and width of the things that I have coming in, and I'm still looking for a strong art piece or relief to go at the center back so I'm not sure if my disgusting mouse-drawn photoshop sketch is going to be accurate at all lol

The more I stare at it the more I think it makes no sense 🙃

So basically, from left to right; Apollo (new statue incoming); Artemis (old statue at the moment but need to upgrade); Hekate in the center (need to craft that); Dionysos (new bust incoming); Hermes (new bust incoming); and on the lower lever Demeter (still love the statue as I think it's my best one so it will stay this way).

Still missing:

one or two candles i use during worship, preferably gold

art piece in the center, either a plaster relief or canva print of something

plant with long falling ''arms'' (idk the word in english)

dried branches to go in the left vase

a way to fix the antlers to the wall

an old key for hekate (need to go to a thrift store)

maybeee a bigger box to store my incense and ritualistic plates and glasses

I don't think I want a table cloth simply because I had one in the past and it was always a mess to clean. Having the bare table is much easier, especially considering that I will burn incense and candles and that gets messy.

---------------------------------

Okay that's it for this long ass post, see ya in a few weeks for part 02!!!

[starbuckaroo]

Sorry I know this is going around a lot rn but anyone who wants to say ANYTHING about bad parenting on this show and wants to talk about Eddie mf Diaz can eat a fucking dick UNLESS they can show me they’re not being hypocritical and can show me their posts that rip Athena apart. Fucking hell.

I will preface this by acknowledging that ofc there’s absolutely no way I can know what it’s like to be a black woman raising a black child. I never can. I do have some personal experience with raising a black boy in the US, though, so the episodes with Harry have always hit me really really hard, and usually because I always want to mcfucking scream at Athena for the way she allows her career indoctrination to harm her children.

Yeah my main gripe with this show always always boils down to “Athena quit your job” bc I can’t stand her anymore tbh. She would have stayed an interesting character IF at some point in s4-5 thereabouts she started to have doubts about the system and they did something interesting with that

OR

If they would allow the literal actual conflicts of interest to crop up and let her be a fucking antagonist. Let Bobby struggle with his ethical evaluation of a scene and his marital obligations. Let May struggle with learning and growing away from her childhood home and wrestle with what her mom continues to do. And let that storyline with Harry this season actually carry the fucking heavy and heinous weight that it truly has. It turns my stomach honestly like I had to stand up and walk away, and let me sister tell me when it was over so I could go sit back down.

But the apologism is what is so unforgivable. Like don’t get me wrong, I love the hell out of this show and it’s my full on hyperfixation and has been for years, but its top billed character has been nigh unwatchable for most of the last few seasons. The narrative trying to sell me that she’s one of the protagonists, that she doesn’t have to struggle meaningfully at all about what she does for a living or to her family, and I’m supposed to swallow that without protest? Nah. Can’t happen.

I liked her character a lot in the first three seasons tbh against my better judgment! I was expecting to hate her from day one but I was sold, actually. Michael leaving the show kind of tanked her character, I think, maybe. I think it was their dynamic that made her interesting at first, and then sympathetic later on when she really was trying to make their blended unconventional family work despite her upbringing. But honestly once Harry aged into teenagerdom and Michael left and May graduated it meant there was like…nothing left about Athena that was interesting except her job except that’s actually the worst part about her lmao woopsies.

Anyways. Let Athena be a villain or at least an antagonist. That would fix everything tbh. It would make her interesting again, it would be in character given how many ethical messes she’s caused or been party to, and would allow the show to keep doing their dumb copaganda shit that they’re almost certainly contractually obligated to shove in at least once per season. But it would finally be interesting because it wouldn’t feel like I was being asked to swallow bullshit covered in glitter spray. Maybe they could explore her toxic relationship with her mother and how engaging so heavily and perpetually with respectability politics has done damage to herself (and her parents and her ex husband and her children) over the years. Maybe her magical fairytale white lady boss at the precinct can actually act in character for once and pls god I would just like. I would sell a kidney for a real and honest Athena Quit Your Job plotline. Fuck. They could even take the coward’s way out like they did with Eddie’s military service and just have her quit for some random reason so ethics never actually has to be part of the conversation but neither would we have to deal with the copaganda all the time. You know Angela Bassett would act the fuck out of that kind of complicated character. It would be a real conflict instead of whatever contrived nonsense they’ve been putting on her this season.

Anyways this really fucking got away from me but I’m just not willing to hear a fucking WORD against single dad Eddie fucking Diaz unless the speaker has already done their bit about Athena and they’re just making their way through the line.

Except

I don’t actually want that bc We Know Why they’re saying that shit about Eddie and if they ever opened their mouth about Athena I don’t even really have to wonder about what sort of racist bullshit might fall out. Those aren’t the people I want attempting to critique Athena Grant. So actually yeah can everyone just shut the fuck up.

Myself included.

[thedeliverygod]

I need help, please.

Essentially back in 2021 when I filed for bankruptcy I used a feature my payroll for my company offers which is to “borrow” money from your following paycheck, I guess like a pay advance. I borrowed the full $500 amount in order to pay my court fees/lawyer fees so that I wouldn’t have to burden my dad.

I figured once my bankruptcy went through and I was no longer paying credit card bills every month, I could handle being short a paycheck a month or two while I bounced back. I tried my best, but life kept getting in the way. I had car problems come up, I had health problems come up. At my bankruptcy hearing in December they decided they wanted me to pay 2 more installments of the court fees early so that I wouldn’t have to go back a second time (I also had to hide my cell phone in the bush outside because they did not provide lockers and I had to worry about it getting stolen the whole time because I have no family/friends in the area to drive and drop me off but that’s another story).

Then my rent went up another $100 and inflation struck everything but especially groceries. I needed every drop of that $500 + the remainder of my paycheck in order to make sure everything got paid.

I won’t say I’ve been perfect and haven’t made unnecessary purchases. It’s a goddamn depressing world and I am trying to keep myself sane with little things.

I’ve sold a lot of “unnecessary” things in my life. Old video games and stuffed animals. Old movies. Old books. I tried to sell cosplays but I left them up on eBay for months with no bites.

I can go to the used book store maybe one or two more times with some things but I think that’s about all I can manage. I’m considering selling some of my Kingdom Hearts figure collection but I’d have to know I’d get a fair price of what they’re actually worth since a fair amount aren’t made anymore. But yeah, the bookstore offers me meager amounts for things so it I only helps so much. For instance I sold my ps3, some books, a Mai sakurajima figure and I think I got like $38 and a few dollars of store credit. Aka it helps but not much. I have an old diamond necklace from my ex boyfriend I’ve considered pawning but I don’t know if that would get me much either.

My mom just got home from a stint at the hospital; she’s relatively okay now but she was in the ICU for an infection, kidney damage and low blood pressure. The latter 2 were mainly from being dehydrated in combo with the infection so she’s mostly better in that regard at least enough to go home. She’s on disability and her husband is retired so they scrape by. My dad has been sick and not working for several months now with leg issues I don’t really know much about because he’s been very vague with me and won’t let me visit.

My parents can’t help me and I can’t help them. It’s been one of the most frustrating feelings on earth.

All in all it’s 4 am, almost 5 am and I’m asking for help because I don’t know what else to do. I’m ashamed of myself and I just am so lost.

Because of the rising costs of everything, I’ve often been over drafting now. I don’t know if I’ve just gotten lucky or what but my bank didn’t hit me with overdraft fees that is until today. I got several right at the same time I deposited money and I’m left with under $40.

I’m still getting my halved paycheck so rent is priority with that and then hopefully one or two bills. But I need groceries somewhere in there. There’s a prescription I need to pick up. I have an overdue medical bill that I’ve pushed aside already in lieu of utilities. And I just am so overwhelmed. Thankfully my cat is well stocked in all his food thanks to my best friend ordering him a Goliath sized bag of dry food and me buying wet food earlier than I needed to so there is that positive.

TLDR: If anyone can donate anything so I can get groceries I’d be so grateful. If I could somehow get to $500 to make it so I don’t have to borrow money for my next paycheck I’d be eternally grateful but I feel like that’s asking too much.

I don’t feel like my situation is bad enough for a gofundme but I do have a ko-fi which I’ll link at the bottom. I am 100% going to be job searching for better pay soon but I have a surgery this month and I need to not mess with my insurance just yet.

I’d gladly write drabbles etc if you would like as a thank you gift but I unfortunately don’t have much else to give. I wish I could draw so I could take commissions.

If you can’t afford to donate, I totally get it. But also if you could reblog and maybe it’ll find it’s way to someone who can? Thank you either way.

I’m sorry if I rambled on too much but my mind is racing. I just want to be able to get back on my feet so once I can help myself I can maybe help my family.

[oh-my-hubris]

Loyalty Of Angels 2: A Legacy Of Service

Jhonny is forced to address a past he doesn't really have.

1322

Jhonny had read the letter so many times that when he fell over onto his thin mattress with the candle blown out he was reading it behind his eyelids. He didn't get letters. This was the first one he'd ever had in memory.

So, naturally, it was a doozy.

My Friend, I’m a researcher for the Queen’s archives, and I have recently uncovered some information regarding your parents. I thought you might want to see it. I would prefer to discuss the details in person, so if you will meet me at the palace gardens at Divinity’s Reach, I’ll share them with you.  To prove I am what I say, I have enclosed half of an amulet, which I believe will match a broken one you’ve owned since you were born—something my research led me to uncover. I look forward to meeting you face-to-face.  Sincerely, A friend. 

In his fist, Jhonnen held his half of the amulet, the hardwood and inlaid mithril digging into his skin. The only clue to a mystery he had never believed would be solved. Who he was. Where he was from. 

His first memories were of Queen's Heart Orphanage. Sometimes he could almost remember someone carrying him, but it slipped away before he could determine anything about that person.  Even if they were real.

He had his name, but only his first name, and it might have been given to him by the Priestess of Kormir who raised him—though she denied it—and he had the amulet. Putting the two pieces together revealed the face of a lion and a weathered inscription reading, As true as the sky, as sure as the sword. 

Even with the amulet in his hand, clenched in a fist, the leather thong remained around his neck as it always had. 

He'd thought about throwing it away a million times. It was a question that wouldn't be answered and a tie to a past that wasn't really his. It was good hardwood, the mithril could have fetched an okay price. 

But he'd never sold it. He had tried telling himself that he didn’t care. That if it had mattered who his parents were he wouldn’t have spent nineteen years not knowing. Someone would have come for him. He wouldn’t have grown up as unwanted as he had. 

But the rest of him… needed to know. Who were they? Why did they leave him? If they were dead or not. How they had died.

The broken heart of a child, begging to be loved. 

The amulet, for all that he wanted it to mean nothing, was the only proof that someone other than Priestess Isabeau had loved him.

The only enemy he really had was dead and hadn’t known about the amulet anyway, certainly not well enough to fake something like this. It wasn't Pete's style, anyway. The only person who’d seen him naked was Alice, and she’d accepted that everyone had their secrets. 

Quinn was dead.

So he’d go. He had to go. 

The next morning, Jhonny dressed and headed down to the bar, kissing Petra on the cheek to see her blush and turning to Andrew to tell him that he had business up in the palace gardens, but he’d be back to work in the evening. 

Andrew had mostly forgiven him for the Pete-thing, the bar had been found in pristine condition because Thackeray had dealt with the blood and body after, apparently, carrying Jhonny up to the Temple of Six to deal with the whole ‘stabbed’ thing. 

And Jhonny had paid for the beer, and that helped. 

He headed up to the Palace Gardens and waited anxiously to be recognized. He tried to pretend like he was admiring the intricate hedges, but knew he looked every inch as impatient as he felt. Hedges weren't wildly interesting on the best of days, much less when you were waiting for fundamental answers to your existence. 

“Jhonnen Jackson?” asked a man, coming up behind him. A hand settled on his shoulder. 

“I recognize the first—” Jhonny moved quickly, jerking his elbow back when he felt the press of something sharp against his back, right above the kidney. He spun around, face to face with the man with the knife.  

“Can I fucking help you?” he snapped. Was he being mugged in the royal gardens? Did people mug each other in the royal gardens? He’d never mugged anyone in the royal gardens

He was not an idiot.

…

He was less of an idiot, generally. 

“Don’t be like that,” sneered the assassin. “I’m here to reunite you with your parents.” 

Jhonny never went unarmed, a habit from the bad old days. In a flash he had his own knife in his hand. 

The assassin whistled and suddenly Jhonny was surrounded, his back pressed to one of the hedges. He clenched the fist that didn’t have the knife and summoned Betty to him, turning the odds to two against… a lot. 

So still not great.

But better, and that was enough to work with. It was rare for things to be much better than better anyway. 

“Hold fast, stranger!” shouted a deep clear voice. “The Shining Blade is here!” 

Jhonnen did not take his eyes off the assassin with the knife, because the moment he did he was dead, but he did wonder what the Queen’s personal guard was doing here. 

Random do-gooding? Wasn't that supposed to generally be a Seraph thing?

At least it evened the odds a bit. 

It had been a while since Jhonny had fought with a blade. The nickname ‘Little Knife’ referred to his penchant for swinging a greatsword around, but he knew the trick to knife fighting. The trick was getting in quick and accepting that you were gonna get cut. 

The minute the two Shining Blade exemplars threw themselves into the fray, Jhonny had Betty run a path down the middle. Jhonny followed swiping with his knife and throwing knees and elbows. It was a quick and brutal fight, but at the end of it, a friendly, gauntleted hand picked Jhonny back up to standing. 

The woman smiled at him, not a happy smile, but a stern, battle hardened smile. “When you’ve caught your breath, we should talk.” 

“We can talk now,” Jhonny said, panting. He looked at the bodies. One of them had known something. 

Jackson. 

His last name… was it Jackson? Did it mean something? It apparently meant enough that someone had tried to assassinate him over it. He was a nobody. Less than a nobody. 

So who were they after?

“Excellent work handling those foul cultists,” she said. “May they know Grenth’s justice. I’m Exemplar Sahlia of the Shining Blade. This is Exemplar Mehid.” 

“Awesome,” said Jhonny. “I’m Jhonny.” Jhonny Jackson. Jhonnen Jackson. “What’s this about cultists?” 

“White Mantle, to be exact,” said Mehid. 

Jhonny looked at him skeptically. “I was pretty sure the White Mantle had been stomped out. And why bother attacking me?”

“They often target defenders of Kryta and its Queen,” said Mehid. 

Jhonny looked at him skeptically again. He’d been involved with stopping Pete’s attack on the water supply and he’d told Thackeray (his buddy Logan, har har) that he’d step in again if needed. But he was hardly a stalwart defender of the crown. 

He'd helped Thackeray with a mugging like… last week? Just because he was around.

Was that enough for the White Mantle to try and murder him?

Frowning, Jhonny took the amulet out of his shirt and the second piece out of his pocket. “They sent me the other piece of that amulet to lure me out here.” It might be relevant to whatever was going on, but he felt weird showing it. 

The amulet was private.

 “Judging from the symbol on that amulet, I’d say your family has been very loyal to the kingdom. For… a long time.”

Jhonny pursed his lips in question. 

Sahlia peered over. “A mark of the king’s favor? That’s interesting. Probably from Queen Jennah’s father, if I had to guess.” 

Mehid shook his head. “Isn't that…” 

Sahlia shook her head harshly, ending the argument. 

None of this made any sense. And that meant that there was something they weren't telling him. He hated it but arguing with people who made secrets their business was probably fruitless. Jhonny tucked the amulet away, half down his shirt and half into a pocket. 

Sahlia nudged one of the bodies with her foot. “We’re about to raid a White Mantle hideout we found recently. A hunting lodge near Beetletun. It’ll be dangerous, but the cultists there may know more.”

“I think I know that lodge,” Jhonny said, bringing up a map of Queensdale in his head. The gang used to deliver stolen spirits out there. Jhonny himself had never gone, but he could find it. “I won’t take no for an answer, I’m more useful in a fight than this made me look and they… they might know more about my parents.” 

Admitting it was galling. His unknown past was a private injury. One to be licked in private.

He shouldn’t care. It had been easier not to care. But the Shining Blade knew something.

Which meant that there was something to be known.

The Exemplars nodded their agreement and Sahlia headed off to inform the Seraph about the bodies. Jhonny stood there, numb with shock, as Captain Thackeray arrived with a couple of troops to haul the White Mantle corpses away. 

“Why is it that when I find Kryta’s enemies in a pile, you’re standing nearby?” Thackeray asked, trying to make light. 

Despite himself, Jhonny smiled a little bit. “I’m a lucky guy.” He gave a tiny shrug. “I'm also pretty quick with a knife.”

“You’re bleeding.” Thackeray pointed to the blood on Jhonny’s sleeve. 

Jhonny sighed. “This is why I used to wear black. No one can tell you’re bleeding when you wear black.” 

“That a big issue in your line of work?” 

“Previous line of work. I’m currently a law abiding bar back. And, yeah, they see you bleed, they realize you’re not invulnerable, they get ideas. Surely you of all people know how it works. If you present an impenetrable wall…”

Thackeray nodded with a small smile off his own. “Eventually even your enemies will believe it.”   

------

Jhonny reached the hunting lodge a little bit after Sahlia and Mehid, and was grateful that they had waited for him to start the assault.

Jhonny summoned a shade from thin air and ripped Betty out of the ground. “Backup,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, trying to quiet his nerves. 

He was used to lowlives and street thugs. An injury or two was usually enough to end a confrontation and nobody had any real training. These were cultists, driven by fanaticism and probably trained to kill. 

The bastard assassins in the gardens certainly had been. 

He was used to being outclassed, but he did generally hate it.

Jhonnen marched on the doorguard, all five foot five and full of fire, he held his ground as he was surrounded and then whistled for Betty. What he lacked in training he made up for with inventive enthusiasm, using the greatsword to clear space and then pulling the knife when they got close enough. He followed Sahlia and Mehid’s lead as they ransacked the inn, murdering cultists and freeing the few non-Mantle guests. 

A new initiate, trembling and terrified on her knees, gave them the location of the Confessor—down in the basement. 

Jhonny had mixed feelings about what to with her but Salhia had decapitated her before he could get a word out. 

That was handled, one way or another, and realistically probably the best the new cultist was going to get from the Shining Blade.

The Confessor, Jhonny figured, was the idiot in charge and that they’d have the answers he was seeking.  And if they didn't they had joints that could be broken until they told him who did.

The Confessor was a pretty young woman with a silly had and a very large rifle. She was outnumbered, however, and being pressed on all sides, making the gun less of an asset. 

“I need information,” Mehid said sternly. 

The Confessor held her chin up defiantly, jerked the barrel under it, and went out with a literal bang. 

Blood spurted up and rained down on the floor and some of the papers. 

Gruesome and uninformative, but Jhonny refused to give up hope. He started looking through the desk she’d been standing at and then moved onto the bookcases. Tearing through bits of paper desperate for some reason the Mantle had been after him and some clue as to who his parents had been.

They were probably the same thing.

“You killed the Confessor,” said Exemplar Salia. “This is a true victory for Krtya.” 

“Yes, great, whatever,” Jhonny muttered, still leafing through the papers. The Confessor had killed herself, he'd just been closest at the moment she pulled the trigger, and she'd been responding to Mehid.

Eventually he found a list of names. Logan Thackeray; protector of the Queen, Countess Anise; advisor to the Queen, Jhonnen Jackson; child of the Queen’s spies, the list went on and on. He showed it to Mehid and Salia. 

The Queen's spies.

Mehid and Sahlia had said the amulet was from the King.

“Grenth’s Teeth,” swore Mehid. “It’s a list of targets! Every name on here is one of the queen’s allies. If they managed to take out all of these people—” 

“They won’t,” Jhonny interrupted, and not just because his name was among them for some reason. “But first, I have to… warn Captain Thackeray.” It felt like the words were coming out of someone else’s mouth, but it was true. Thackeray would have warned him. He had to warn Thackeray. 

His buddy Logan.  

He looked at the Exemplars. “Thackeray deserves to know he’s a target and he might have a thought or two on dealing with this.” 

Sahlia frowned and then sighed. “You’re right. Anise won’t like us sharing information so recklessly, but this is an emergency. We’ll meet you at Captain Thackeray’s office.” 

Countess Anise wouldn’t be happy about telling a man who was on a list of targets about the list of targets. Even when that man was Logan Godsdamn Thackeray. 

Countess Anise needed to get her priorities straight. 

“Stay safe,” said Exemplar Sahlia, heading into the night. “We’ll draw less attention if we travel separately.” 

Jhonny chuckled to himself, like he had to be told how to avoid unfriendly eyes. He had been the Little Knife, terror of Divinity’s Reach. He knew how to stay off the radar. 

Hell, technically he'd never been caught. Technically.

He made his way back to Divinity’s Reach and headed immediately for the palace district, aware of how bedraggled he looked. The bruises from the fight were starting to stand out on his pale skin, his clothing was torn where blades had barely missed him. 

At least he looked the part. Thackeray would probably take him seriously. 

He was shown into the office and Thackeray took stock of him. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.” 

“Happens after a fight,” Jhonny shrugged. “We’d better wait for the Exemplars to show up or you’ll have to listen to the same information twice.” He slumped into a chair. “Hair looks nice by the way.” 

Thackeray smiled a little but rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Jhonnen.”

Fondly exasperated was a good look on the Captain. Made him seem like a person. 

“That’s what I’m here for, spontaneous compliments and bad news.” He looked up as the door opened and Sahlia and Mehid entered the office with Countess Anise in the middle of scolding them for involving a civilian. 

“Especially this civilian.”

Jhonny narrowed his eyes at the Countess, wondering what she was hiding from him. He looked away and smiled at Logan. “There’s the bad news I mentioned.” 

Thackeray looked from Jhonny to the Shining Blade Exemplars and back. “More White Mantle?” 

“More White Mantle,” Jhonny said, picking himself up out of the chair. “I’ll let them explain.”

He listened intently as the exemplars explained about the hideout and the lists. Thackeray’s scowl deepened with every word. 

“We can’t let these roaches continue to spread,” he said at last. “I’ll mobilize the Seraph and burn this cult to the ground!” 

“Logan, no,” said Anise calmly. “You’ve been fighting centaurs for too long. The White Mantle are cunning, treacherous foes. They will predict your moves, outmaneuver you.” She gestured to Salia and Mehid. “The Shining Blade has been fighting them for a long time. We know the best way to deal with the Mantle: stealth and cunning.” 

“We need to move quickly,” said Mehid. “They probably know we’re coming either way. Our friend has been invaluable so far. Perhaps Jhonnen can offer some insight here.” 

Jhonny’s eyes went wide as everyone looked to him. He was uncomfortable being the center of attention. Particularly with people who by all rights should have been arresting him. 

Or should have arrested him a few years ago. He'd been remarkably well behaved recently. 

“Agreed,” said Thackeray. “So, my friend, the choice is yours. Stealth or strength?” 

There was a lot to unpack in what had just happened and Jhonny took a moment to do so under the guise of thinking very hard. Firstly, these sorts of decisions shouldn’t be left up to him, the only leadership experience he had was crime-based. 

Then again, that gave him some insight into how the White Mantle was forced to operate, didn’t it? They couldn’t operate inside the laws of Kryta. 

Which meant they needed to come at the cult sideways and then hit them hard. So a stealthy approach was probably the best plan. 

None of this, however, accounted for Thackeray calling him his friend. 

It might have been--and probably was--just a matter of speech. But there was a friendliness inherent in how Thackeray said it.

Jhonny had had precious few friends over his short span on Tyria, and all of them were dead. Because all of them had been Quinn. And he had failed to keep Quinn safe.

Logan—not Thackeray, not now—was loyal and brave and… actually pretty funny. He wasn’t as self-centered as he’d been made out to be. 

If he wanted to be friends, if he was extending that olive branch, Jhonny had no choice but to accept. And accept… gladly. He and Logan had had a couple of run-ins since the poisoning incident. Mostly minor things, but they, surprisingly, got along. He had a better sense of humor and was more down to earth than Jhonny had expected.

Wow, he was going to need to drink later.

But possibly not by himself.

He cleared his throat. “If they act like a gang does, you’ll have to come at them sideways or they’ll scatter. If they go to ground, we stand less of a chance of actually dealing with them. So… we're going to have to go in stealthy and then hit them as hard as we can to make sure none get out.”

He looked up at Logan, mostly to see what he thought about Johnny disagreeing with him. 

Logan looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Makes sense,” he conceded.

They, mostly the Countess, laid out a plan to meet at a Seraph outpost in Kessex fields. Jhonny lingered after Anise, Mehid and Sahlia had left to prepare. He looked up at Logan and forced his posture to relax. “When this is over, you want to get another beer?” 

Logan looked at him and smiled a little bit. “Yeah, I’d like that. Assuming you're buying.”

It felt like a tease. 

And that was nice. 

Jhonny grinned. “Thackeray, does something about this get up make me look made of money?” He rolled his eyes. “But, I can.” 

Logan laughed. “How much do you think I make, Jhonnen?”

“Jhonny,” Jhonny corrected. “And more than I do as a bar back.”

“I'll get the drinks next time.”

Jhonny gave a short shrug and a smile. “Works for me.”

-------

They met on a hill in the swamp to hear Countess Anise’s sneaky plan, but it was Logan who actually seemed to have one. 

This seemed to surprise Countess Anise in a way that was probably insulting and definitely funny. 

“Get into position, everyone,” he ordered. “I’ll approach, and when they make their move, you all rush in a spring the trap.” 

The Countess laughed a little, covering it daintily behind the back of one gloved hand. “You, Captain? No offense, but the Shining Blade and the White Mantle have a long history. Don’t you think I would make a more tempting lure.” 

Logan shrugged. “No doubt. But wouldn’t that seem a little suspicious? You out walking alone, the queen nowhere in sight… At least I move about on my own regularly.” 

Jhonny nodded. It was true. Logan did things like patrol and chat with ruffian bar backs. Apparently he made plans to get beers with them.

“That’s a good point,” said Exemplar Salia. “Where you do want us then, Captain? Anywhere is fine so long as we’re close to the action.” 

Jhonny looked around and pointed to the ruins. “Those ruins are where I would lie in wait if I were waiting here, which I guess I am. Good elevation, walls to hide behind. We’ll be able to see and hear everything.” 

“Sounds perfect,” Logan said. “Just be ready to move quickly when things turn ugly.” 

Jhonny reached out and touched Logan’s elbow cob and gave him a thin-lipped smile. “I’ve lost one friend this year, not looking to lose two.” 

Logan huffed something that was probably a laugh, just a burst of air from his nose and a small twist of his mouth in acknowledgement. 

Jhonny nodded, trusting that that would be enough. Then he followed the others up the hill. 

“Logan,” Countess Anise said, shaking her head. “Playing the part of the helpless victim. This should be… interesting.” 

“Yeah,” Jhonny agreed. “He doesn’t strike me as an actor.”

The Countess gave Jhonny a cryptic smile that he automatically hated, and directed his attention to the scene below, where a woman in white and red robes and several armed men had stopped Logan in his tracks. 

They were too far away for Jhonny to make out the woman’s dialogue but Logan… 

Logan was showboating. 

“Oh dear!” he said loudly, sounding almost theatrically bored. “Oh Mercy! The White Mantle is upon me. Woe! Lamentation! Is this the end for poor Logan?” 

Jhonny covered his mouth to hide the smile and stifle the laugh. 

Logan raised his arm and shouted, “Now!” 

Jhonny slid down the muddy hill with his greatsword drawn, Betty charging at his side. The cultists’ surprise granted them a few seconds of advantage and Jhonny savored every one. A few cultists singled him out as the weak link: he was unarmored and not Countess Anise. When he was surrounded he pulled the mists around him, sinking half into Grenth’s domain to siphon the life from several bodies at once. 

He and Logan made a pretty good team, actually. Logan’s shield giving Jhonny the defense he lacked and Jhonny’s greatsword extended past Logan’s reach. 

Eventually the White Mantle lay defeated and Jhonny sank his greatsword into the mud to lean on it, completely disrespecting the blade.

The blade was pitted and chipped anyway. It was fine. “At least that’s over.” 

Countess Anise sniffed disdainfully. “I think we were too easy on them, personally. After multiple attempted murders and abusing the memory of your parents, they got off light.” 

“They are lying face down leaking red into the mud,” Jhonny pointed out, the reminder about his parents stinging. 

Nineteen years of trying not to think about them made it second nature. But now he had remembered and it… hurt. His parents had been people. Enough that the evil fairytale cult from Kryta’s past was trying to murder him over it. 

A gauntleted hand came down on his shoulder. “Will you be alright?” 

Jhonny closed his eyes and tried to focus on how weird it was that Logan Godsdamn Thackeray was asking after his well-being instead of on the empty ache of a past he didn't know.

“I… yeah,” he said. “I’ll be alright.” 

He didn't feel like he'd be alright, but there also wasn't another choice. Life would go on. He hadn't had parents a week ago and he wouldn't have parents a week in the future. He was an adult. 

Exemplar Mehid cleared his throat and looked to Countess Anise for permission, receiving a short nod, before opening his mouth to speak. “Speaking of your parents… With this phase of the operation complete, I can tell you that Sahlia and I have located your parents’ last known residence.” 

Jhonny’s jaw dropped open but even in his elation, and confusion, and anger, and hurt, he couldn’t shake the knowledge that he was only being told because Countess Anise permitted it.

He hated her. 

“Where is it?” 

“We can take you there,” Sahlia said. “The house is south of the Delanian Foothills, and if there’s anything worth finding, we’ll find it.” 

Logan gave him a smile. “We’ll have that beer when you get back.” 

“Right,” Jhonny said, feeling very surreal. “Wouldn’t miss it.”  

-----------------

The trip to the Delanian Foothills was reasonably short, and yet still long enough for Jhonny to drive himself mad with ruminations. He felt like this was the furthest he'd been from the city, but if this was where he was from… then it wasn't. And that felt… weird. He stared at the abandoned homestead, the dilapidated buildings and broken fences, hoping something, anything would trigger a memory. 

There were wisps, mostly forgotten hazes of have I been here? But how much was remembering and how much was wishful thinking was anyone's guess. 

Someone had taken him to Divinity's Reach. Someone had given the priestess only his first name. Someone had left him with half an amulet and a lifetime of questions, resentment, and bitterness. Why wasn't he worth keeping? If it had been the White Mantle’s fault they probably would have just slit his throat then. Baby killing didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility for the cult. 

Salia gave him an apologetic look. “Countess Anise asked us not to say more than necessary, as this is technically a royal matter, but… I think you deserve what truth we can give you. Your parents… a lot of your family going back… were Shining Blade. They helped track and destroy White Mantle cells, saving many lives in the process.” 

“So you knew this was their house?” He hated Countess Anise. 

Mehid nodded. “Yes. The last message on file from your parents states that they feared White Mantle cultists had discovered their secret. They were planning to flee.”

Salia’s apologetic look deepened. “The Shining Blade lost contact with them after that. Either they fled to safety or…” 

“For my own sake, I have to believe they didn’t flee and leave me behind,” Jhonny said. It felt awful, hoping his parents were dead rather than had abandoned him, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't face the truth of being that unwanted. Discarded on purpose.

“I’m sure if they did they had a very good reason,” said Mehid, trying to be helpful.

What good reason was there for leaving your son completely in the dark? For throwing him aside? He’d grown up with an amulet and an unreliable friend. Until Andrew had taken a chance on him one person had been genuinely kind to him and that was the Priestess who raised him. He’d turned to crime and violence to survive. 

Jhonny just turned his attention to the run down house. Whatever answers existed, if they existed, existed inside. 

The house itself had been looted and squatted in, what furniture remained was busted or disintegrating, or both. Pressing forward, Jhonny found a door in a place where there shouldn't have been a door, only noticeable because the cabinet in front of it was mostly just lumber now. It opened to a small cave, and there, Jhonny found the answers he had been looking for. Magic fire burned blue to illuminate two small graves, like it was trying to keep the light even here. The tombstones were modest, simple slabs accounting for a husband and wife who had died for the country they loved. Trying to make a better world for their son, Jhonnen. 

Jhonny curled to his knees in front of and between the two markers and buried his face in his hands, horrid, wretched sobs jerking his chest and shoulders.

Mehid and Salia did Jhonny the courtesy of turning away while he wept. 

Knowing they were dead was one thing. Having it confirmed was… was quite another. Knowing they had loved him was almost unbearable. 

He had hated them for so long. Hated them, tried to forget that he hadn't spontaneously come to exist within Queen's Heart. 

When he finished he dried his eyes and drew himself to standing, turning back to the exemplars. “Do we know who set these gravestones?” 

They both shook their heads, but Mehid… hesitated for a moment before he did. 

They knew something. 

“Friends?” Offered Sahlia, “Fellow agents? Whomever it was was likely the same person as took you to Divinity’s Reach, to safety.” 

Jhonny nodded, he was used to questions that would never have answers and he wasn't going to get anything out of The Shining Blade that Countess Anise didn't want him to have.

“Look, I know you probably know, and if you don't, Countess Anise certainly does. Just … thank them for me.”

Salia nodded, silently confirming that she knew, and also that they weren't going to tell him.

------------------

Logan showed up at the tavern out of his armor and settled on one of the bar stools. Jhonny spotted him while hauling a tub full of dirty dishes. Without a word he put the dishes by the sink and moved to take the seat beside Logan. 

Andrew looked confused but served two flagons of ale that the two men took and put to their lips in silence. 

“Sorry about your parents,” Logan said, after a drink. He lowered his flagon and turned his head to look at Jhonny. “Are you—” 

Jhonny shrugged, interrupting. “I already knew they were dead. It just makes me… it makes me think.” He took another drink of his ale. It was bitter, grounding. He filled his lungs with air. “Maybe I should take after them.” He never would have dreamed about going fully legitimate, but it felt like the only thing he could do to honor the parents who had loved him and the mysterious Shining Blade who had saved him. 

It was also, selfishly, his best chance to get answers.

Logan cocked an eyebrow. “The Seraph could use you.” 

“I’d rather work for you than Countess Anise anyway.” Jhonny managed a smile. “Steel is still not my color though.”

Logan snorted a little laugh. “I did see you first, she’ll have to recruit on her own.” 

“Is that how it works, whoever saw the candidate first gets to recruit them?” 

“If it gets you in a Seraph uniform and not a Shining Blade one? Then yes,” Logan took another drink. “Yes it does.” 

“I'm not wearing the armor.”

Logan smiled. “We can work around it.”

[minetteskvareninova]

Minette watches Medici, part 23 (Lost Souls)

-So, this is the culmination of Lorenzo's villain arch. He's fully the bad guy now. And I... Didn't hate that. The writing around that wasn't terrible, although it also wasn't exactly awe-inspiring either. My main problem with this episode is in the other half of this episode's emotional core - Lorenzo and Clarice's health complications, because the writing around that was an unmitigated dumpster fire.

-To start with, let's talk about the historical Lorenzo's health. The thing is, he has suffered from an array of chronic health issues since he was a young man, at the time thought to have been the result of gout, though I've seen modern research dispute this; Wikipedia links a paper that claims Lorenzo de' Medici suffered from acromegaly and his death might's been a result of complications from that.

-Either way, you'll notice that the IRL version is actually better written than the show one. Not only does Lorenzo launch the house of Medici into unprecedented heights despite his chronic health issues (the Handicapped Badass trope and all that), but his premature death is properly foreshadowed instead of Lorenzo suddenly starting to limp, causing doctor to announce he is dying of... Gout? Yeah, that's another thing. Gout ISN'T A DEADLY DISSEASE. You can't die from gout, you just can't. Now, it does contribute to kidney diseasses that can actually kill you, and also is a result of a garbage lifestyle (bad diet, lack of excersise, that sort of thing) that can cause other, more lethal complications. But it never kills you on its own. Like, you could maybe justify some of the inaccuracy by "well, the renessaince doctor wouldn't know any of THAT", but this still leaves us with how sudden the deterioration of Lorenzo's health is in the show and how mild his symptoms are compared to real life. Neither of which is a good change, to be honest.

-But at least he doesn't just drop dead of completely unexplained reasons like his poor wife! Like, if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say Clarice died of a miscarriage, except she doesn't even bleed??? She just collapses, at first seemingly in tears of guilt, but not in physical pain... And then Lucrezia D is carrying her home? And in a few minutes (and seemingly a couple of hours at most in-universe) of screentime, she is just dead?! Did she died of broken heart or some shit?! Look, real Clarice died of tuberculosis, and I know in the show it would probably just sound like a rethread of Simonetta's death. I get that changing it to miscarriage makes a lot of sense considering that was indeed something potentially lethal back then, also Clarice had several in her life, so it's not a bad idea in principle. I also get that the writers were trying to tie Lorenzo's personal tragedy to his professional downfall. But in so doing, they rendered a powerful scene of Clarice being overwhelmed by guilt and despair over her husband's actions kinda silly by almost implying guilt and despair killed her?

-And don't get me wrong, it is a very powerful scene! I actually liked it a lot! Even the previous scene of Clarice learning Lorenzo sold their little girl to pope's failson isn't bad, especially since it retroactively gives more narrative weight to Lorenzo's previous disgust at another very young girl, Caterina Sforza, marrying a papal failson (well, failnephew, but you know).

-I am a bit miffed at the show's inconsistency around just how corrupt the renessaince papacy is. Like, at first, it doesn't seem nearly as bad as it is in The Borgias, but then Lorenzo apparently considers asking the pope to name his 14-year old son a cardinal perfectly normal, or at least nothing that a strategic match cannot fix??? It also begs the question why the fuck would the pope even agree to that considering he should still be mad about Sarzano, but okay.

-The one and only thing that I liked, nay, loved about Clarice's death... We got one last Clarice x Lucrezia D moment out of it! I know I shouldn't celebrate my girl dying, but like. Look at the pathetic little breadcrumbs they feed us shippers this season. I can't let my obsession starve to death, you know!

-I am not sure whether what Lorenzo did to poor Anna the beggar counts as bribery or gaslighting, but I guess the grey area was the point. Either way, I liked it! And I liked her giving money to Savonarola, overcome with guilt! See, I can be fair to this show, even if I am tired of it and can't wait for the final episode!

-I liked other things too, like Lorenzo going full villain mode and Piero grieving Tomasso. Even if Piero's actor... Look, Tewkesbury from Enola Holmes was 16, it's a bit more understandable if he doesn't hit every note. He isn't completely terrible in this, just... Not good.

-I only noticed in this episode that Savonarola is played by an Italian and dubbed. And I noticed, because the dub of his speech at the beginning, while passionate, clearly did not go as hard as the actor's expressions suggest he did in the original audio.

-Okay, that was exhausting. Onto the final episode!

[kickmag]

R.I.P. Tina Turner

Music icon Tina Turner died today at the age of 83. Turner had been ill with hypertension, intestinal cancer and kidney failure over the past decade. The acknowledged Queen Of Rock and Roll started her career in 1957 when she performed with her ex-husband in Ike Turner's Kings Of Rhythm. They became one of the best live acts of the 1960s and had hit records with "River Deep Mountain High," "Proud Mary," "Nutbush City Limits" and "A Fool In Love." They disbanded in 1976 after years of a tumultuous marriage and significant career success. Turner went solo and started appearing on television shows to pay her bills. At this time she was considered an act of the past because working in Vegas was seen as a retirement plan for musicians. It was after four albums and a cover of Al Green's"Let's Stay Together"she was able to attract a recording contract with Capitol Records. Private Dancer was released in 1984 and it was the start of the greatest comeback story in the music industry.

The album became the catalyst that transformed her from being almost obscure to being seen on a worldwide stage. Private Dancer had multiple singles to chart, sold millions of copies and kicked off a tour with 177 shows across the globe. Tina Turner proved that being a pop star was not reserved for the young and the album took home four Grammys out of the six nominations. Private Dancer became one of the best-selling albums of all time and Turner had become a worldwide star with tremendous crossover appeal. She would release four more albums that all did well on the charts. Her first memoir, I, Tina My Life Story came out two years after Private Dancer. She would receive accolades for the rest of her life after the success of this album. 

In 1991, she and Ike Turner were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She was famously portrayed by Angela Bassett in the 1993 film What's Love Got To Do With It. Years later in the 2000s, she helped create Tina, a musical about her life. An appearance at the 2008 Grammys paired her onstage with Beyoncé and the following year she officially retired as a performer. There were two more memoirs, and a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award during the last two decades of her life. In 2021, Turner was inducted again into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a solo artist. Tina, the documentary was also released that year and the following there was Barbie doll created in her likeness. The former Anna Mae Bullock was one of few Black women to take rock music to its next level in the '60s onward. Her competence as a performer and famous legs set a standard for every woman rock singer that came after her. But her comeback story, perseverance, and longevity continue to provide inspiration for anyone struggling to become.

[jdgo51]

Indescribable: The Scoop on Skin and A Hairy Situation

Today's inspiration comes from:

Indescribable

by Louie Giglio

Editor’s note: Louie Giglio’s popular devotional for kids about God and science is so fascinating that adults are buying it for themselves! Packed with Scripture and fantastic data about everything from seahorses to stars to the depth of the ocean, this devotional is a page-turner. Enjoy this excerpt, and don't miss our great deal on the companion Indescribable Kids Activity Book - the perfect summer sidekick for your kids (or grandkids)!

"The Scoop on Skin"

"He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you can hide. His truth will be your shield and protection. — Psalm 91:4 NCV

There’s a lot more to your skin than meets the eye.

First of all, your skin is actually an organ — just like your heart, lungs, and kidneys. In fact, it’s the largest organ of your entire body. The average-sized person has 22 square feet of skin! That’s about the size of a small blanket. Skin comes in all different colors — all created by God using a pigment called melanin. Think of melanin like an artist would think about paint. The more melanin you have, the darker your skin. The less you have, the paler your skin.

Skin not only covers your bones and muscles, it also senses the environment around you and helps control your body’s temperature. Your skin sweats to cool you off when you get hot, and it closes up its pores to keep in the heat (think of goose bumps!) when you’re cold. But one of your skin’s most important jobs is to protect the rest of your body from injury and disease. It’s like a shield for your body.

And while your skin is the shield for your body, God is the shield for your heart, mind, spirit, and body. It’s easy to be afraid and anxious about the bad things that could happen in the world. But the Bible is filled with God’s promises to watch over and protect you, like this promise God gave in Psalm 18:30:

The Lord’s words are pure. He is a shield to those who trust Him.

And this one:

He is our help, our shield to protect us. — Psalm 33:20

And:

The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust Him, and He helps me. — Psalm 28:7

The list could go on and on. So when you’re scared or feeling threatened, run to God, and He’ll be your shield!

God, You are my rock, my protection, my Savior, and my shield. When times get tough, I’m so thankful You surround me and keep me safe.

Be Amazed

Here are some weird skin facts: Underneath all its fur, a polar bear’s skin is black. A rhinoceros’s skin can be almost 2 inches thick. And frogs? Their skin is really unique. Instead of drinking water through their mouths, they actually soak it in through their skin!

God knows each and every hair in each and every follicle! You might not be able to count them all, but He can.

A Hairy Situation

When five sparrows are sold, they cost only two pennies. But God does not forget any of them. Yes, God even knows how many hairs you have on your head. Don’t be afraid. You are worth much more than many sparrows. — Luke 12:6-7

Hair — it’s everywhere!

It’s on your head and on your skin. It makes up your eyebrows and your eyelashes. It even grows in your ears and in your nose! In fact, the only places hair doesn’t grow are on the palms of your hands, the bottoms of your feet, and your lips. Hair isn’t just for looks either. It has a purpose. The hair on your head helps keep you warm. Eyelashes keep dust and dirt out of your eyes, while eyebrows help keep the sweat and rain away — not to mention helping you look shocked and surprised! And those nose and ear hairs help keep germs, pollen, and other bits of stuff out of your body.

Hair grows out of a special organ under your skin called a follicle. The average person has 100,000 follicles on his head — and more than 5 million on the entire body. That’s a lot of hair! And

God knows each and every hair in each and every follicle! You might not be able to count them all, but He can. The Bible tells you so.

When you’re going through a tough time, especially if it’s a long, tough time, you may start to feel that God has forgotten you. But that’s not true. God could never forget you. Jesus said God knows what happens to every tiny bird in His world. And He loves you a lot more than any bird! When tough times come, God doesn’t forget you, and you’re not alone. God is always with you, even though you may not see it. Remember, the God who knows every hair on your head also knows exactly how to take care of you.

Lord, You know everything that happens in my life — even how many hairs are on my head! So I’ll always trust You to do what’s best for me.

Be Amazed

Hair is one of the main characteristics of mammals (and people are mammals too). In fact, all mammals have hair or fur. Even naked mole rats have tiny hairs on their feet!"

Excerpted with permission from Indescribable by Louie Giglio, copyright Louie Giglio.

[hedge-bones]

So I'm turning 28 here in a week or so, officially late-20s, and it's time for a little reflection post. I was just gonna write this tonight and queue it for my birthday, but I think I'll post it now. It's been a very long and strange year. I got a promotion so I'm finally in a job I like doing something I enjoy, I traveled a bit, got the conch ear piercings I'd wanted for years, I saw three of my all time favorite bands in person (at the same concert!) with my best friend and sang so loud and so much I trashed my voice for like two days! Singing along to Simple Plan playing What's New Scooby-Doo live was a very weird, specific bucket list item and I got to check that off!! Preteen me would never believe it!

My Beetle went to the big junkyard in the sky, but even though I miss my Bug terribly, I love my new car. As much as I love old cars and am near evangelical about the important of physical buttons and switches, I have to admit that the new-ish features are really nice.

My kidney function is almost exactly the same as last year, so my CKD is stable and I'm doing good! I'm a long ways from being considered stage 1 and I'll always have to see a nephrologist, but I'm not getting worse, so that's reason for celebration!

I'm trying to go to the gym more and take better care of myself, even trying yoga, and I'm trying to eat healthier; I'm even eating fish, which might be the biggest change of all, because I famously hate eating fish, and I'm not 100% sold yet but my cats are thrilled LMAO

I also ended a long relationship, and even though I'm more sure now than ever that it was the right decision, it still hurts, and I still feel a little off kilter, like I'm not 100% sure how the world works now, even after a few months. I'm back on the dating apps and have gone on exactly one date, which was perfectly mild and will go absolutely nowhere, and I'm okay with that. Sometimes I'm not even sure I want to be dating now, or if I just feel like I should.

Overall, I think I'm happier now than I was a year ago, less anxious and filled with dread (mostly; it's progress, not a miracle lol).

A LOT of that, not all of it but a big chunk, has to do with work, my role is significantly different than it was before and even though finances are still really tight, I'm better off emotionally and mentally.

And that makes me want to be healthier, and gives me the mental bandwidth to write more, read more, create more art!

I'm excited to see how the next year will go! It feels like a fresh start.

[joytraveler]

70: Brass Knuckle Boxing

This seems to be a sequel to the strangely gory boxing game Bea played earlier, but this time there are some new additions: you can choose to play a male or female fighter, and there seems to be a store where you can buy upgrades for your fighter!

"Oh I'm picking her! And now we're gonna get some real good spiky torture gloves, if they- oh. Wow they actually do, holy cow. Okay. Sold!"

"I SHOULDN'T be surprised, but.."

Syrupentine: Co-ed boxing?? YES Llord_Kuruku: Sisters are doing it for themselves berd_snurglar: but, but women can't do a sports, they'll get their hair all tangled in their boobs and get the game will get called on account of period Baconnaise: Yeah I flooded the stage at the school play one time Klickitat_Street: Is it bad that this talk really does make me uncomfortable? -_-;

The first opponent on this circuit is "Half Jones". who waves to the crowd while facing Bea's left, but then turns to reveal he's entirely robotic on his right side! And that's a wicked-looking piston he's got instead of a right fist!

Glockroach: Look at this fuckin guy, Bea's here to make sure there's No Jones left after this HNV: Bea, I don't want to tell you how to play the game, but I think his weakness is going to be his left side. Just a hunch.

"Yeah he's pretty smug look- wait wait don't talk at me while I'm trying not to get my knock blocked off!!"

"Looks like someone still has their pitiful human kidney!" PUNCH

Half Jones really doesn't like having his flesh parts punched into his metal parts! Eventually his eye is swollen shut and he can only see with his glowing red optical sensor on the other side, which defends a lot better-- but Bea can tell when he's looking away and that's a cue when to hammer him!

"Good thing I got these gloves or my hands would be almost as mushy as you are, buddy!" When he finally shoots off some sparks and goes down!

Llord_Kuruku: Toasted! HNV: Maybe you should take on Tyson one of these nights after all!

The purse you win for putting down Jones enables Bea to purchase some newly unlocked gear-- some of which are parts she recognizes from Half Jones himself. But the most expensive thing that she can't afford yet in the shop seems to be just a small blue pill!

TaichouSenseiKun: Bea will MegaMan her way to boxing stardom. Then box the stars Baconnaise: Bea, save up for matrix pills

"Nothing actually says what it DOES of course, you have to buy it first.. Oh well, gonna get some shoes for a speed up and we'll keep going, if I make the same amount again, with what's left that should be plenty!"

Glockroach: Bea those are steroids, don't. HNV: I hope those aren't continues or something, that would be a ripoff

The next boxer in line is Sunshine, a friendly-looking freckle-faced hick who wears overalls but no shirt-- and who happens to have a pitchfork instead of a right hand. He even laughs good-naturedly when he accidentally(?) offers the wrong "glove" to touch before the fight.

DueyDecimal: WATCH! THAT! RIGHT!

[mrbexwrites]

Find That Word Tag Game

I was tagged by @sarahlizziewrites and have to find the following words:

settle, wiggle, stone, years, firm, sleeves, framing, guests

Some trigger warnings for abuse, violence, death and trafficking.

And, so, behold snippets containing those words below-

Settle- From Memento Mori Part I: Morgana is bonding with a ghost of a murdered woman, who was trafficked and sold into sex slavery. Ylena is opening up about the Loverboy Method of how she was trafficked by her ‘boyfriend,’ Vasily. Morgana has reluctantly agreed to help her solve her own murder.

“Sounds boring,” Ylena looked at her nails. “Anyway, Vasily and his friends were talking about moving to the UK, and how much money they were going to make there. He was always away on business, which seemed really exotic. He was always flying away somewhere. He was going to settle down and live in London, and grow his business from there.There were way more opportunities in the West and the UK was the best. So I practised my English, watched the BBC and got ready to come here.I told him that he couldn’t leave me behind.”

Wiggle- From Memento Mori Part III: In the almost 100k in these novellas, I’ve not used ‘wiggle’ once, only ‘wiggled’, so you’ll have to excuse a slight deviation from the rules! We’ve jumped in time, and Morgana has (spoilers) caught up with Vasily and *finally* managed to keep her promise to Ylena. Her non-binary sibling, Avery (Codenamed ‘The Bacchanal’) is planning a ‘small’ party to celebrate.

The elevator doors opened, and Arty rushed to meet me. 

I knelt and scooped the excited ball of fur into my arms. 

“Hey, little dude,” he licked my face and almost wiggled out of my arms. “It’s good to see you too. Uh...what the hell?” 

“Deathkins!” Avery waved at me from the snug they were curled up on. They toasted me with a daiquiri. “Congrats on conquering your evil little human trafficker. Don’t mind the Help. They’re just helping me set up for a little soirée I’m planning to celebrate our success.” 

“A little soirée?” I let Arty down, and he scampered off. “Ave…”

“I promise...just friends and family, and a few people.”

“How many?” 

“A few….honest! Cross my heart!”

“What is your definition of ‘a few’?” I had learned that Avery’s ideas of numbers and mine very much differed wildly. To me, ‘a few’ was no more than ten people.

Stone- From Memento Mori Part II: I’m not even sorry, folk! Yes, I’m not normally this chaotic, and regretting my decision to do these in the order of the words as they were given in the game, and not chronologically in the story itself. It’s been one of those days, and you’re just going to have to accept that I’ve deviated from my actual personality. Matisse is a Millenium Citizen, like Morgana, but with healing powers. This is just a snippet from a filler scene to a) build the character a littler, but also, to help me hit that sweet, sweet 50K NaNoWriMo word count, baby!

I made my way back to the store room that was my makeshift bedroom, kicking a small stone with my shoe. Not looking where I was going, I bumped into Matisse. He sported a black eye, and a cut across his nose. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine in an hour or so,” he pulled the bloodied bandage away from his nose, a blood clot falling away from his nostril. “Nothing that I can’t handle.” 

“You don’t look okay,” I peered up at him, the worry must have been etched clearly on my face, as he waved me off. 

“Yesterday took a lot out of me,” the bandage went back to his nose, stemming the bleeding. “I just need something to eat . Time heals all wounds,” he chuckled to himself. “At least it does for me.” 

I handed him my half-eaten cereal bar from Clay. 

Years- From Memento Mori Part IV: Last year’s NaNoWriMo attempt that I wrote whist battling a kidney infection and enjoying the codeine that the NHS prescribed me. Needless to say, it needs a lot of work and some tough-love editing/major re-writes. It’s a darling that refuses to die, mainly because I was trying to write a happily-ever-after-fluff peice, which is essentially fanfic for myself.  This is some context for a couple of new ghosts that Morgana has ‘acquired’ on her journey to New Mexico and the made-up town that I invented to base some story events there!

August had tried to arrest Jeremiah, after he’d fled Arizona, having held up a bank, stealing two hundred dollars of cash, and several rings and necklaces off of the ladies who were in with their husbands, and according to him, some stolen kisses were also exchanged. He’d double crossed his own gang to ensure he got away with the money, and crossed into New Mexico, not realising that August Washington, the son of a freed slave, was hot on his heels. 

They’d gotten into a firefight, each man taking six bullets to the torso. Jeremiah had taken a bullet to the neck, ending his short life; he had been twenty four years old when he bled out on the sand not far from where Halo Rock had been founded.

Firm- Back to Memento Mori Part I: (I’m not even sorry any more guys!) Morgana is getting deeper into her investigation into Ylena’s murder, and her own police work is starting to intersect with the detectives’ from Police Scotland, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as Morgana has an excuse to see West a bit more (bow chicka wow wow!)

West led me over to his desk, and offered me a seat. I sat clutching my bag to my chest. He had dark circles under his eyes, and dark stubble was taking over his face, and his sandy hair was ruffled. His shirt was crumpled, as if he’d been asleep in it. 

“It’s been a long night,” he sat his coffee down and sat back against his chair. “Got assigned to a suspicious fire in Drumchapel.”

“The NCA safehouse?” 

“I would ask how you know about that, but having seen your starring role in the Skeptikz video, consider me a firm believer in your skills.” 

“You’ve watched it?” I groaned. 

“Tell him to deal with my case,” Ylena demanded, perching on the desk with her arms crossed. 

“After meeting you the other day, I wanted to see why Samuels recommended you. I mean, we all know about you, but it’s just been stuff from the papers. But the guv, she trusts you, so there had to be more than just what the press say.  So, it was good timing when I searched for you online, and the newest video for those guys was the first hit.” 

“I thought you looked familiar,” Cammie called from his desk. “Ghost Girl! You sure gave that guy the heebie jeebies!” 

Sleeves- From Part II: Okay, so I’m going to try to stick with some semblance of chronological order now. This is me trying to give some world-building/Lore for the Millennium Citizens. I like the idea of not having to explain everything (Like Robin Hobb and the Elderlings- they just are) but that said, in-world context is necessary, especially when you accidentally form a plot along that one bloody thing you didn’t want to focus on.

I thought of the Aon, lurking somewhere deep in the Beyond, its blue eyes hunting for me. 

“The old gods,” Rizwan chuckled and shook his head. “They weren’t omnipotent, all-knowing beings. They were fallible. They were human. They weren’t separate from their people. Sure, they might live in a high mountain, but if someone was brave enough, they could climb up and steal from them.”

“Like Prometheus,” I picked up and studied the clothes that Aisha had brought me. She had leant me one of her dresses; black with red flowers embroidered on the sleeves and hem. I pulled it on over my head. 

Framing-From Searching for Starlight, my attempt at Sci-Fi. A small snippet from a party, that’s about to become a bloody coup attempt.

A band with musical instruments that were foreign, yet familiar, started to play. Everyone’s attention turned to the small stage, and Rashmi saw Sekhmet’s lips twitch into a smile. 

Asase, her dark, curled hair framing her features like a halo stood before the microphone. Her voluptuous figure was shown off by the purple sequinned dress she wore, a high slit up the side gave away a hint of skin, that had it gone any higher, would have been scandalous. 

Waiting for the music to reach its crescendo, Asase started to sing, her voice low and husky, making Rashmi’s arms tingle. Whatever spell Sekhmet had cast on the room was broken, and all eyes turned to the singer, transfixed. 

Guests-Further on in the scene from Searching for Starlight.  Rashmi has been trying to avoid Riassa, but now the Councillor has managed to get her in her sights!

“Perhaps, then, you would care for some company,” a tall woman, over seven feet tall stood next to her table. She wore a high collared dress that ran all the way to her feet. It was cinched at her waist, and her head was covered in a semi-circular hat that reminded Rashmi of a crescent moon. The woman didn’t wait for an invitation, but pulled out the seat Kai had vacated and sat next to her. 

“Bright One,” the woman bowed her head slightly, and Rashmi felt her stomach sink. She had never met the Luminarian Councillor, but Riassa’s reputation was well known to her. “I hope you had a chance to read what I passed onto you. It is such a shame that Corporal Alonic was taken away and placed on a cruiser headed for Harbourage. Due to his redeployment, he wasn’t able to pass on your response about meeting.”

“I’m afraid that I’ve been busy,” Rashmi tried to keep her voice even. 

“Yes, you have been so very busy lately, being asked to crew the Windjammer with Switchpace and her crew of odd-balls. But yet, here you are, without an escort, and in public for the galaxy to see. Why do you think that is?”

“Because my commanding officer was awarded a medal, and invited me along. And a contingent from my home world are here as guests of the Assembly?”

“Oh! That is darling!” Riassa laughed, a soft tinkling sound that reminded Rashmi of chimes in the wind. “No, my dear. You’re out in public, because you’re not that special, and no longer worth hiding away.”

I'm going to tag @thecatsgrave, @lindira @angelicminds, @thelemoncannibal and anyone else who wants to join in!

Your words are: Steer, ghost, scarf, protect, flaunt, slight, fingers, cackle

[mahougirlmutualaid]

Need IMMEDIATE Help To Afford Life Saving Second Dose of Renal Failure Treatment

$250/500

(Hi, this is Maddie, Mia typed almost all of this one for me again because my coordination problems are getting worse. This is why I haven't been online lately.)

Unfortunately Wesonga Yazid, the owner of the God Provides Ministry and Orphanage (the nonprofit we have been working with the last two years, and are opening a neighboring chapter of), has been struggling with the complications and after effects of kidney failure for a long time now, after he's gone into failure twice. This is something my Mom almost passed from, so I know firsthand how serious it can be. He didn't bring it up for a year because he didn't want to draw attention or worry us, but he's too sick to be able to hide it anymore. We were able to get him his first dose of medicine but now he desperately needs the next one by this Saturday, something his doctor emphasized. He's doing very poorly and the medication needs to be taken within a certain time frame to work effectively. Yazid is my best friend, to the point we plan on him coming to live with me for a while someday so we can work more together. I can't bear to see anything bad happening to him.

We've been able to scrape together half of it after Yazid sold his bike, but we still have half left to save! That's still really possible!!! If you are able to donate anything at all it would be incredibly appreciated and would go towards saving a man’s life, if you can’t then please please please reblog! No matter how many followers you have. Even if you have one, that might be the one who gets it seen by someone who can help. Reblogging and sharing is seriously what makes the biggest difference, it's the PRIMARY thing you can do to change this.

If 25 people donated $10 we would have the amount and if 100 people donated just $2.50 we would also reach our goal! These numbers are hard to reach. But, sharing the post and getting it traction makes it entirely possible, as we've absolutely had luck like that. So please

(If you are able to donate, if you are all can please do it somewhere besides GoFundMe! GoFundMe takes 4-7 days to process a donation, and we only have two days to raise this. If you're worried about the safety of your donation and how reputable it is I can also send you Yazid's mobile banking information.)

You can read the recent GoFundMe update for a more detailed version of what’s going on. Yazid also has an account at @yazid007, and you can get more information on our (under construction) landing website here. If you want to write him directly, he is frequently active on Discord wesonga01#0356 to write or call.

Cash//app

Ven//mo

Payp/al

GoFund//Me

[spine-buster]

the hurt/comfort, pt. 2; continued.

A/N: ...and now, the resolution. And I promise it gets better from here :)

Side note: I cannot take credit for the words in the note -- they were beautifully written by the Quebecois director Xavier Dolan after the tragic passing of French actor Gaspard Ulliel, and was in his tribute to Ulliel on Instagram.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s missing?!” Rasmus shrieked frantically.

“—Listen, Aleida went out to find her—” Aberdeen tried to explain, but to no avail.

“Find her? What the fu—Aberdeen, what the fuck happened?!”

“Ras, calm down—” William tried to intervene, but again to no avail.

“Hur kan någon förvänta sig att jag ska vara lugn när min flickvän är försvunnen?!” Rasmus shouted in Swedish, the only language he could even think to express himself in right now towards his best friend. [[ How can anyone expect me to be calm when my girlfriend is missing?! ]]

“Saylor was at the game tonight and caught her in the family lounge. She made a comment about needing Bio Oil for her scars on her face and how brutal they are. Aleida caught her crying in the washroom but when she went to check on her again, she was gone,” Aberdeen tried to explain as calmly and quickly as she could.

Rasmus felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. It was almost as if he shifted back to being a young kid unable to speak or understand English when the words left Aberdeen’s mouth. It was only when the weight of the words finally hit him that he felt himself become red with anger. “She’s fucking dead,” he seethed.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” Bee piped in, still holding Helena who was sound asleep. “Aleida called Chris and had her and Gina arrested for cocaine possession in the stands. It was an entire scene. They were caught on security cameras.”

Morgan, John, William, Fred – all their jaws dropped. Fred always knew his wife still had it in her. But that didn’t matter right now – what did matter was that Lusine was somewhere in downtown Toronto and Aleida was trying to find her. What also mattered was that Helena needed to be put to bed, regardless of how comfortable Bee’s arms were. “Bee, give her to me. If I get home I can see if Aleida brought Lusine over,” Fred said, outstretching his arms.

“I gotta go find her,” Rasmus mumbled, bolting for the stairs – not even having the patience to wait for the elevator.

“Hey!” William yelled after him. “You don’t even know where she is!”

“Better to look!” Rasmus yelled back, more determined than ever to find her.

***

Lusine was cold, but the heat blasting from the vents in Fred and Aleida’s car were warming her quickly. When a nice car had pulled up to her on the curb, honking, she thought the worst if she was being honest. Like, the worst – that she would be kidnapped or something. That she’d made the stupidest decision of her life running away from Scotiabank Arena and now one of her kidneys would be sold on the black market. But when the window rolled down and she saw Aleida’s face, she wasn’t as nervous – just confused. Aleida screamed at her to get in the car so they could go back to her townhouse. Lusine agreed, because it wasn’t like she was going to start defying Aleida. If it was anyone else, Lusine probably would have ran away down an alley to lose them, steadfast on wanting to walk home alone in the snowstorm while tears were still streaming down her face.

“How’d you know where to find me?” Lusine asked, her voice completely void of emotion as she curled up in the passenger seat. She was so emotionally exhausted, embarrassed of her behaviour, and just wanted to forget about everything.

“I didn’t. I made a lucky guess,” Aleida said. “Bay Street is always the street people choose because it’s quieter and you get to be alone with your tears.”

Lusine almost hated how accurate and on point Aleida was about everything. She decided not to respond, because she didn’t know if she could emotionally take it. In the silence, a text came through on the CarPlay. “Text message from…Fred heart emoji,” the computerized woman’s voice spoke loudly. “Helena is in bed. Did you find Lusine?”

“Respond to Fred,” Aleida spoke out. She waited for the screen to change. “We are on our way home.”

Lusine looked over at Aleida. “If Rasmus—can you please tell him I’m safe but I don’t want to see him or speak to him right now?”

“I can,” Aleida nodded her head, “but you know he’ll be upset and want to see you.”

“I know. But I can’t face him right now. Not after what I did and how I feel.”

The rest of the car ride was silent. Aleida pulled up to a very posh and modern looking townhouse, parking the car in the garage. They both got out of the car – Lusine with very little life in her – and followed Aleida to the garage door that led into the house. The second Aleida took out her key and stuck it in the lock, her phone began to ring. With only a single glance down at her screen, she looked back at Lusine. “Go inside, Lusine. I’ll meet you in there.”

“Is that Rasmus?”

“Go inside.”

Lusine did as she was told. She stepped in, leaving Aleida in the garage, who closed the door behind her. Lusine stood awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. She didn’t want to step into (what seemed like) this impeccably styled townhouse without permission.

“Is that you, babe?” Lusine suddenly heard Fred’s voice. She stood petrified in her spot as she watched his head pop out of a corner. When he saw it was her and not his beautiful, stunning wife, his face visibly changed – and softened. “Oh, hey Lusine.”

“Hi Frederik.”

“Freddie.”

“Aleida’s just—” she pointed towards the garage door, “—I think she’s on the phone with Rasmus.”

“Come in,” he said, waving her inside the house. “You want tea or something?”

Lusine shook her head. “I’m—no thank you, I’m fine,” she responded. “You have a beautiful home.”

“It’s even more beautiful if you come out of the hallway,” he cracked a smile.

Lusine took off her shoes and walked into the house gingerly, trying not to make a peep. She looked around, impressed with how styled and sophisticated everything looked. It was like a show home, but a lived-in show home. Lusine didn’t know how to explain it. It looked like it could be featured in a magazine spread, but it was also very obvious that a family lived in the space – from the playmat in the family room to the painted hand art hanging on the fridge and more. “You want chamomile? Peppermint tea?” Fred asked again, watching her as she looked around his home.

She was so shy, but Fred was being so warm that – like Aleida – she couldn’t deny him. “Um, chamomile is good. Thank you.”

He smiled before grabbing the kettle on the stove, setting up mugs and teabags. Lusine heard the garage door open and Aleida walk in. “Hey babe,” she called out.

“Hey,” Fred called back. “I’m making chamomile.”

“I’ll have one too,” Lusine could hear her. Eventually, she heard her footsteps down the hallway, and when Lusine looked behind her, Aleida was there in all her glory. Aleida put her hands on Lusine’s shoulders. “I’m going to check Helena. Then we can talk.”

Lusine nodded quietly. She watched as Aleida and Fred greeted each other, kissing and mumbling something to each other over the store before Aleida went upstairs for Helena. Sitting at their kitchen island, completely desolate, Lusine could only watch Fred as he prepared the tea mugs and filled the kettle. It wasn’t until he turned around to face her that he spoke. “Rasmus is crazy about you, you know.”

Lusine felt like crying all over again, but she kept it together. If it was so obvious to his teammates, why were there people hellbent on its destruction? “I know,” she said softly, nodding her head. “I’m crazy about him too.”

“What happened with those girls—whatever it was…” Fred began. “You’re better than that.”

“They made fun of my scars,” Lusine said. “Why—I mean, why would they do that?”

Fred shrugged. “I could tell you something you’ve probably heard a hundred times, but I’ll just tell you the truth,” he prefaced. “They’re fucking horrible people. That’s it. There’s nothing else to understand, Lusine, so stop trying to understand it. They’re horrible people, plain and simple.”

He was right. He was so right in his simplicity that Lusine almost wanted it to be more complicated because then that meant she might be able to wrap her head around it more. Sometimes, it was the simple things that were so hard to understand. “I don’t even—I don’t even care that they tried to get under my skin by telling me Rasmus tried to hook up with Sadie. It’s—”

“Rasmus never tried to hook up with Sadie,” Fred had furrowed his brows. “We all stay the hell away from that group. Plus he lived with William, and something like that wouldn’t have happened under his watch.”

She knew she just said she didn’t care, but there was still the slightest bit of relief in Lusine hearing those words come out of Fred. “Good to know.”

“And he was so angry when he heard what happened,” Fred told her. “Kasperi’s gotten yelled at by Morgan, me – on two separate and unrelated incidents – and Willy for his choice in women, so this was bound to happen. So he’ll be hearing from Rasmus too now. I don’t even think what Aleida did would cheer him up.”

It was Lusine’s turn to furrow her brows. “What did Aleida do?”

Fred smirked – proud of his wife. “She had Saylor and Gina arrested in the stands for cocaine possession.”

Lusine was stunned. Stunned. Arrested. For cocaine possession. The entire situation sounded like insanity, but if anybody was capable of doing such a thing – of getting someone arrested for cocaine possession in the stands of a Leafs game – it was Aleida Casillas-Andersen. Lusine tried to picture it – the security, the cops, the girls. She imagined shrieks. Screams. Bad behaviour.

Lusine actually laughed out loud.

She immediately covered her smile and giggles with her hands, staring at Fred who had an amused look on his face at her reaction. Then, they shared a moment – they both giggled. “Aleida’s a badass,” Lusine said.

“You don’t know the half of it, Lusine,” he said proudly.

“What are you two giggling about?” Aleida had a smile on her face as she descended the stairs, changed out of her stylish outfit and into comfier clothing.

“You,” Fred smiled at her. “How badass you are.”

She was thoroughly amused. It was the first time she saw Lusine smile in an at least an hour. “How about you go upstairs. We won’t be long,” she said, standing on her tip-toes to kiss him.

Fred gave Lusine one last nod before heading upstairs. At this point, the kettle was just starting to whistle, and Aleida took it off the stove and poured the hot water into the mugs. She slid Lusine’s to her across the counter. “You’re going to stay here tonight,” she said definitively, wrapping her hands around the hot mug. “I’ll get you some pyjamas. If you want to take a shower you’re more than welcome.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“When I spoke to Rasmus on the phone, he was a bit frantic and I had to calm him down. I told him to respect your decision, that you were safe with me.”

“Thanks.”

“But know that he’s antsy to see you and talk to you.”

“I would imagine so,” Lusine nodded slightly, taking a sip of her tea. “I’m—I’m sorry for running away from the arena.”

“What made you? If you don’t mind me asking,” Aleida said. “I thought I had talked you down enough that you would have been okay.”

“I just—I…” Lusine stuttered out, shrugging her shoulders. She could tell Aleida a lot, but some things she had to keep for herself. Or keep for Rasmus when they talked. Because she knew there was going to be a loooong talk once they saw each other again. “I just think my mind got the best of me.”

Aleida nodded, knowing in her own way Lusine didn’t want to reveal too much. Neither did she when she was a struggling nineteen year old. But that was why she continued to struggle as opposed to get better all those years ago. “Above all else…aside from anything and everything that happened tonight, and regardless of what was said to you, just know that nobody cares about your scars. I can promise you.”

Lusine nodded, smiling appreciatively. At the end of the day, that was the core of the problem – that was what set everything off. Lusine found some comfort in those words coming from Aleida. “Thank you.”

Aleida stared at her for a few moments before grabbing her mug. “I’ll go get your pyjamas. Just to let you know, Helena wakes up around seven.”

Lusine changed, finished her tea, moved some extra pillows off the couch, laid out the blanket, and settled into ‘bed’. In the darkness of the room, with nothing but the stove light on in the kitchen, she took out her phone for the first time in hours. She had fifteen missed calls from Rasmus, and thirteen texts from him.

She teared up. She’d caused him so much anxiety and stress and she wished she could just take it all back. But she also knew she wasn’t ready to text him back, because, well…she didn’t know what to say to him yet. How could she explain her actions? How could she verbalize her thoughts and what was going through her mind as the words “they’re brutal” still rung like a church bell every other minute? She knew the answers she needed and how to move on were within herself and not to be found in other people, but her mind was so tired from fighting the battle that she couldn’t see it or find it yet. It would come – she knew that – just not as she slept on someone’s couch.

She closed the texts, as much as it pained her to read them and not respond. The next thing she did was open Instagram and change her profile to a private. Too little too late – she knew that – but it was better late than never. She didn’t even bother to scroll through her feed. She typed in the only handles she needed to check.

nhlwags

The most recent post on the feed was a video. Even from the tiny square, Lusine could make out lettering in the back that made her sure it was Scotiabank Arena. She held her breath as she clicked it and watched the scene unfold from a fan’s camera: two big, buff security officials arguing with fans in the stands, the view obstructed because of their large frames. But then the fans stood up angrily, and there they were in all their glory: Saylor and Gina. One of the security guards grabbed Saylor’s wrists, while the other grabbed Gina’s, and both of them took out handcuffs at the same time. The text overlay on the original video read “Ppl getting arrested at the leafs game??? WTF LOL”, but the owner of the page – and people in the comments – had all the information anybody would ever want.

nhlwags: LMAO can’t believe this actually happened!!!!! Saylor Greene and one of her friends apparently got arrested in the stands of the game!!! Public intoxication? Disorderly conduct? Anyone have details? Video sent by anon.

katcargill16: was in the last row in this section. Saw them being escorted out in handcuffs. No word of a lie, I heard the security guy say cocaine. On God.

leafs4ever: LOL WHAT THE HELL

franciejean: kappy sure knows how to pick ‘em

ellaellaella: was also there. def cocaine possession. those girls were high as a fucking kite. does it surprise anyone, knowing what we know of saylor and what she tried to do to aberdeen bloom when she worked for the leafs? girl is a mess.

Though she was shocked at the length Aleida would go to in order to avenge her, despite barely knowing her, Lusine locked her phone and placed it on the coffee table before bringing the blanket up to right underneath her chin. It was time to go to bed. No more thinking. No more watching videos. No more reading gossip. No more reading comments. No more thoughts of “they’re brutal” repeating over and over in her head. The day was over. It was time for sleep.

It was time for the day to end.

***

Rasmus couldn’t sleep. At all. He’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time. It was abysmal. All he could keep thinking about was what had happened to Lusine, and how he couldn’t be there for her. He imagined every scenario of how he thought it went down in his head. He thought of thousands of possibilities as to how the words were said by Saylor. He knew how those words had the capacity to cut through Lusine’s soul – and they did.

He finally kicked the covers off his body just before 8am. He looked at his phone to see no replies to his text messages or calls. He let out a shaky breath, hoping and praying that Lusine was still safe with Aleida. Maybe he’d call Aleida to see how Lusine was doing. Maybe he’d just show up to their townhouse and ask to speak with Lusine. Whatever grand idea he came up with next, however farfetched, would be much better than lying in his bed, mind in a daze, thinking about how much Lusine was hurting right now.

So he resolved to do just that. He pulled himself up out of bed and stripped down to take a quick shower – getting all the grime and the memories of being worried sick yesterday off his body. When he was finished, he wrapped a towel around himself and went out into his kitchen for some water.

And that’s when he saw something peculiar at his front door.

Something had – miraculously – been slipped under the door, and lay alone on his floor right beside his mess of shoes. He was generally a pretty clean guy, so he knew it wasn’t something of his. He approached it quickly. The paper was small, crumpled – the type of paper waitresses would write your order on at old greasy spoon diners. He picked it up.

***

Lusine heard a banging on her apartment door and automatically knew that Rasmus had gotten her note. She had surprised herself that entire morning by not crying – not when she got re-dressed in her clothes, not when Aleida came down with a happy Helena, not when Aleida offered to drive her home but she said no because she wanted to walk and clear her head – but she knew she was going to cry now with Rasmus here. It was on that walk that Lusine thought of the sentiment she eventually wrote down on the old piece of paper; it was on that walk that Lusine made a promise to herself to tell Rasmus everything, and not leave anything out; it was on that walk that Lusine resolved to build back what was taken from her by two simple words.

She took a deep breath before she opened the door, but nothing could prepare her for the weight and the power and the haste of Rasmus’s body wrapping itself around hers. It felt like all the air was taken from her lungs, but she quickly regained life in her upon feeling Rasmus’s touch on her body. “Oh min lilla fågel,” he let out, his voice shaky and relieved and tortured and soothed all at once as he buried his face deep into the crook of her neck. “Lilla fågel, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, clinging on to him so tight that when he lifted her up into his arms, her legs wrapped around him automatically. “I’m so sorry I made you worried last night.”

“Shhh…” he cooed, taking his head out from the crook of her neck. “You don’t need to apologize. You just need to tell me what happened. How I can make it better.”

“Not right now,” she shook her head. She valued the feel of his touch too much to spoil it with memories of yesterday. “Right now I just want you to hold me. Will you hold me?”

As if Rasmus would say no. He carried her to her bedroom, closing the door with his foot as he saw Piper laying down in the bed, no doubt having just been cuddled by Lusine before she opened the door for him. Rasmus brought them down on the bed and held Lusine; Piper took her cue to climb on top of them, nestling between them. For a few moments, as they lay in bed together, everything was perfect; it was like they were their own little family and there was mothing in the outside world that could spoil it.

When Lusine finally spoke, she told him everything. Everything. Every last detail of the interaction and how she felt. What Aleida said and how she took it. How she ran out of Scotiabank Arena because she wasn’t thinking straight but also couldn’t bear to be in the same building as girls who made her feel the way they did. Her feelings walking alone sobbing on the streets of Toronto. Rasmus listened to every word. He got angry when she told him about the interaction with Saylor and needed to be calmed down. He got curious when he was told everything that Aleida said. He got angry again when he pictured Lusine walking the streets of Toronto alone. He softened when she told him what Fred said to her. It felt like he went through every emotion he possible could before she finished.

“You don’t think…” she began, almost holding back her words. “Do you think my parents were right?”

“No,” he said definitively, shaking his head. “No way. You proved them wrong. They were never right.”

“You don’t think—” she stopped again, composing herself. “You don’t think it was a mistake moving here, do you?”

“No. God no,” he said, kissing her. “If you came here, I would have never met you. And what kind of life would I be living?”

Lusine began to tear up again. “I don’t want to be a burden to you like I was on my parents.”

“No no no no no no no no,” he cooed, shaking his head before giving her a kiss. “I don’t want you ever thinking that again, okay? How could—how could you even? You are not a burden, never have been to me and never will be.”

“I just love you so much, Ras.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her again, for a long time this time, before finally pulling away. “What can I do to make it better?” he asked again, just like he did earlier when he burst through the door and clung on to her for dear life. He kissed her lips quickly.

“You make everything better by just being here,” she said, bringing her hand up to caress his face. “I mean it, Ras. Being here right now cuddling with Piper is the best thing in the world.”

He cuddled closer into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck before placing soft, sweet kisses on her skin. She began running her fingers through his hair. “What if we go get married, hmm? What if I bring you downtown and we got married.”

That somehow garnered a giggle out of Lusine – an honest to God, music-to-his-ears giggle. “You wanna make me a teen bride?” she quipped back.

“I wanna make you a bride. I’ll marry you right now, lilla fågel.”

Lusine couldn’t help but smile – because she knew Rasmus was being 100% serious. And to be fair, a small part of her wanted to take him up on the offer. “Okay,” she wanted to say. “I’ll put on a dress and we can go to City Hall and get married.” But the rational side of her mind prevailed instead (which was good, because she’d acted irrational by running away last night), and she made him look at her instead of hiding his face in her neck. “Someday,” she kissed the tip of his nose. “Today I just want to lie here with you and Piper and leave everything in the past so I can think about everything that’s ahead of me.”

And they did just that. They cuddled with Piper, and Rasmus even fell asleep with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. They got up to take Piper out for a walk around the neighbourhood in the newly fallen snow and held hands the entire time, even stopping to kiss every so often. When they got back, they cuddled again and Rasmus took another nap with Piper lying with him. Lusine thought the scene before her was perfection.

Because it was.

The little life she’d built with Rasmus and Piper was perfect.