#and not near enough faith in the universe - or myself

[freepassbound]

10. What are your future plans?

13. All of pets you’ve ever had

22. Your plans for summer

26. What language do you want to learn?

41. Are you happy with where you live?

✨✨✨ please and thank you 😁

10. What are your future plans?

I really don't know. This past year in the new teaching job was really stressful, and if next year is anything like that... well, I don't know that I want to continue with this job. It seems like I could pivot to tutoring full-time without much of a problem - but that carries all kinds of disadvantages around insurance and taxes, and it is more uncertain.

13. All of pets you’ve ever had

Three dogs: one who preceded me and passed when I was literally a toddler (so I don't really remember them); one from when I was in middle school to college, a beagle who would run off after anything; and one from my mid-20s to late-30s, a black lab mutt who loved snuggling and who also wound up absorbing a lot of our neuroses.

22. Your plans for summer

I have nothing concrete; right now I'm just slowly trying to set right all the stuff that went sideways during my bad spell last month. I'm doing some tutoring, I'll probably try to sneak in a short vacation or two, and getting the house sorted has been a checklist item for... seven-and-a-half years now. Nothing remarkable.

26. What language do you want to learn?

French has always been top of the list, even if the original reason isn't valid anymore. I don't suppose I'd change it as the choice, though.

41. Are you happy with where you live?

Hmm. I think it might be more accurate to say that I'm very attached to where I live? I suppose I'm happy enough - I've never seriously imagined living elsewhere (and at this point I almost certainly don't have the financial means to move).

I value my community, and I try to help it out with my work and my custom; I like knowing where everything is, and having long-time favorites.

On a tighter scale, I think it's a pretty nice house, in a reasonably good spot. I wish I could feel comfortable going for a walk or a bike, but the road is too busy and not designed for that (in my opinion). The yard is a source of stress because I don't trust myself with plants and I hate cutting things down - but it's also very nice at the same time, as I get deer stopping by, plus a nice variety of birds, and rabbits, possums... used to get turkeys, but I haven't seen any in a long while.

[pascaloverx]

Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. Comments and kudos are welcome. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance.

THREE FIVE

FOUR

Your madness should be studied. It's foolishness to go to the Cullens' house to check on Edward. You might end up seeing his girlfriend, which would be awkward. They might not appreciate seeing you. Uley could find out you went there and curse you for generations. But now, lying in bed with Jacob beside you, you're worried about Cullen. In fact, a part of your younger self is nervous about having transformed in front of Edward. Your wolf form only emerged after you left Forks.

"There's something troubling your mind. Don't worry about denying it. Just tell me what it is," Jacob whispers near your ear while you think he's asleep. You're sleeping spooned together, with him as the big spoon and you as the little one.

"I need to do something you won't like. And honestly, I don't want to tell you what it is. I just want you to support me even without knowing. Like a good pack leader," you say, turning to look at him. His eyes open to meet yours. You kiss him on the cheek, hoping to make him more receptive to understanding you.

"I'm not your leader. And I'm not your boyfriend either. As your lover, I'd recommend you not go after any vampire. But as a friend, I support you. You know you can count on me if Sam decides to scold you, even though he's not your leader either," Jacob says, apprehensive yet respectful.

"I didn't know I was your lover. But I want to lean on the side of you that's my friend. If something happens, I need you to not let anyone come after me. Not even you. Can you do that for me?" You ask, kissing Jacob softly on the corner of his mouth, then on his lips.

"You have more faith in my ability to be your bodyguard than I do. But consider it done. I'll keep any wolf away from you. Including myself. I hope you'll reward me for that," Jacob says, kissing your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You playfully hit his arm as if disapproving of what he said.

"You're such a flirt. But for now, you don't need to worry. Finding vampires at night is always more advisable," you say, shifting against Jacob's chest as if he were a pillow and you wanted to snuggle closer.

The rest of your day is quite peaceful. You visited Sam's pack, spending the afternoon surrounded by wolves who dislike wearing shirts because they're too hot, and their respective loved ones. In truth, you wonder if you'll ever experience an imprinting. Will you ever feel that powerful bond with Edward or Jacob? Or worse, what if it happens with someone you haven't met yet?

Before you know it, it's late enough to go check on Edward. Just to make sure he's okay. You say goodbye to the pack and before heading off, you glance at Jacob, who surprisingly behaved well during the visit to Sam's pack this time. Perhaps he knows that being near Sam's pack could allow him to intervene if something goes wrong.

"I can't believe you have the nerve to show up here," Rosalie says, approaching you. She never liked you, and now that you've transformed into a wolf, she probably despises you even more.

"Easy, Rosalie. I'm not your sister-in-law anymore. No need for all this aggression," you respond sarcastically. She doesn't seem to like it, as moments later, she throws you against a tree using her vampire powers. You push her back, but before either of you can do anything else, half of the Cullen family surrounds you both.

“Rosalie, you can’t attack Y/N. I'm sorry about her temper." Esme says as she helps Rosalie up from the floor. You're still catching the breath you lost when Rosalie attacked you.

“Y/N, it’s always good to see you. You are as lovely as I remember. Isn't it Jasper?" Alice asks Jasper as he walks over to hug you. Emmett takes Rosalie inside while others watch you.

"You look great." Jasper says looking at you without much excitement while Alice still seems excited. Until you notice that you are bleeding from the corner of your mouth. Maybe this is making Jasper uncomfortable.

"We were in the middle of dinner. Want to eat with us?" Carlisle gently extends his arms towards the entrance of the Cullen's house. But you know the only way they could be eating food would be if Bella was with them.

"I don't think Rosalie would like that. But thank you for the invitation. Maybe I can come next time." You say regretting having gone there. It was a mistake trying to see your ex who should have left your mind a long time ago.

"Honey, we'll all be waiting for you. Until then, we promise to talk to Rosalie about her bad behavior." Esme says and you think it's cute that she thinks she can make Rosalie control her hatred for you.

"You will come back. Your story isn't over yet." Alice speaks sweetly while holding your hand. You deduce that she is foreseeing this but you don't understand how your story isn't over yet. I mean, you and Edward don't mean anything to each other anymore. Right?

"I think that's unlikely to be true but I've learned not to doubt you, Alice." You say as you hold her hand back gently, she smiles softly. Jasper then nods towards Alice and she goes with him into the house.

"I think you came to see me." Edward speaks while using his vampiric speed to get close to you quickly. Carlisle and Esme seem to feel the tension of Edward's presence around you and leave.

"I just came to make sure you're okay. Which I see you are, so if you'll excuse me." You speak while keeping a certain distance from him. Your feet are walking the path back to Jacob's house when you feel something come towards you. Not something, someone. Edward holds you firmly against a tree.

"Is this obsession with throwing people against trees a vampire thing?" You question looking at him. But his eyes seem to wander over you.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a wolf now?" Edward looks a little angry and at the same time conflicted about something. You will see your face looking at the other trees before you can look at him.

"It was none of your business. It's still none of your business. But I know how much it must make you hate me now." You say a little angrily, as if you realize that now you are like a natural enemy of the man you loved.

"Nothing in this world, would make me hate you." Edward speaks with such convection and you look at him, shaking your head. He can't be serious.

"Take it back. You can't say that to me. Not when you're involved with someone else and I..." You say remembering Jacob. Even though you are not a couple, you like each other in a certain way.

"Is he better than me?" Edward asks, getting close to your face, as if he intoxicates you with his presence alone.

"Maybe he is. He's not in inappropriate proximity with me while dating someone else." Your face comes even closer to Edward's face. Your breathing becomes uneven as the tension between you increases. Edward looks at you one last time before getting lost in your lips. The shock of feeling his mouth on yours makes you hold his hair tight. The kiss, however, is a mixture of lust and hunger. His lip is still sore but it doesn't matter. Edward is probably tasting your blood as he tastes your mouth. He's thirsty and so are you. By reversing the positions, you throws Edward's body into the tree you were leaning against.

"I'll tell her. About you, about us." Edward speaks while his mouth is pressed against yours. You don't know what to say, You just know that it means something to you. If not, your heart wouldn't be beating so hard.

"She's going to hate you for this." You whisper still against his mouth. Your kiss now feels like a declaration of a real feeling.

"I can't pretend this is nothing. You and I know there's something between us. Passion, lust, feelings. Whatever you want to call it." Edward murmurs, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I need to leave." You say looking into Edward's eyes.He runs his fingers over your face one last time before letting you walk away without saying anything else.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Wise Pair of Fools: A Retelling of “The Farmer’s Clever Daughter”

For the Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge at @inklings-challenge.

Faith

I wish you could have known my husband when he was a young man. How you would have laughed at him! He was so wonderfully pompous—oh, you’d have no idea unless you’d seen him then. He’s weathered beautifully, but back then, his beauty was bright and new, all bronze and ebony. He tried to pretend he didn’t care for personal appearances, but you could tell he felt his beauty. How could a man not be proud when he looked like one of creation’s freshly polished masterpieces every time he stepped out among his dirty, sweaty peasantry?

But his pride in his face was nothing compared to the pride he felt over his mind. He was clever, even then, and he knew it. He’d grown up with an army of nursemaids to exclaim, “What a clever boy!” over every mildly witty observation he made. He’d been tutored by some of the greatest scholars on the continent, attended the great universities, traveled further than most people think the world extends. He could converse like a native in fifteen living languages and at least three dead ones.

And books! Never a man like him for reading! His library was nothing to what it is now, of course, but he was making a heroic start. Always a book in his hand, written by some dusty old man who never said in plain language what he could dress up in words that brought four times the work to some lucky printer. Every second breath he took came out as a quotation. It fairly baffled his poor servants—I’m certain to this day some of them assume Plato and Socrates were college friends of his.

Well, at any rate, take a man like that—beautiful and over-educated—and make him king over an entire nation—however small—before he turns twenty-five, and you’ve united all earthly blessings into one impossibly arrogant being.

Unfortunately, Alistair’s pomposity didn’t keep him properly aloof in his palace. He’d picked up an idea from one of his old books that he should be like one of the judge-kings of old, walking out among his people to pass judgment on their problems, giving the inferior masses the benefit of all his twenty-four years of wisdom. It’s all right to have a royal patron, but he was so patronizing. Just as if we were all children and he was our benevolent father. It wasn’t strange to see him walking through the markets or looking over the fields—he always managed to look like he floated a step or two above the common ground the rest of us walked on—and we heard stories upon stories of his judgments. He was decisive, opinionated. Always thought he had a better way of doing things. Was always thinking two and ten and twelve steps ahead until a poor man’s head would be spinning from all the ways the king found to see through him. Half the time, I wasn’t sure whether to fear the man or laugh at him. I usually laughed.

So then you can see how the story of the mortar—what do you mean you’ve never heard it? You could hear it ten times a night in any tavern in the country. I tell it myself at least once a week! Everyone in the palace is sick to death of it!

Oh, this is going to be a treat! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a fresh audience?

It happened like this. It was spring of the year I turned twenty-one. Father plowed up a field that had lain fallow for some years, with some new-fangled deep-cutting plow that our book-learned king had inflicted upon a peasantry that was baffled by his scientific talk. Father was plowing near a river when he uncovered a mortar made of solid gold. You know, a mortar—the thing with the pestle, for grinding things up. Don’t ask me why on earth a goldsmith would make such a thing—the world’s full of men with too much money and not enough sense, and housefuls of servants willing to take too-valuable trinkets off their hands. Someone decades ago had swiped this one and apparently found my father’s farm so good a hiding place that they forgot to come back for it.

Anyhow, my father, like the good tenant he was, understood that as he’d found a treasure on the king’s land, the right thing to do was to give it to the king. He was all aglow with his noble purpose, ready to rush to the palace at first light to do his duty by his liege lord.

I hope you can see the flaw in his plan. A man like Alistair, certain of his own cleverness, careful never to be outwitted by his peasantry? Come to a man like that with a solid gold mortar, and his first question’s going to be…?

That’s right. “Where’s the pestle?”

I tried to tell Father as much, but he—dear, sweet, innocent man—saw only his simple duty and went forth to fulfill it. He trotted into the king’s throne room—it was his public day—all smiles and eagerness.

Alistair took one look at him and saw a peasant tickled to death that he was pulling a fast one on the king—giving up half the king’s rightful treasure in the hopes of keeping the other half and getting a fat reward besides.

Alistair tore into my father—his tongue was much sharper then—taking his argument to pieces until Father half-believed he had hidden away the pestle somewhere, probably after stealing both pieces himself. In his confusion, Father looked even guiltier, and Alistair ordered his guard to drag Father off to the dungeons until they could arrange a proper hearing—and, inevitably, a hanging.

As they dragged him to his doom, my father had the good sense to say one coherent phrase, loud enough for the entire palace to hear. “If only I had listened to my daughter!”

Alistair, for all his brains, hadn’t expected him to say something like that. He had Father brought before him, and questioned him until he learned the whole story of how I’d urged Father to bury the mortar again and not say a word about it, so as to prevent this very scene from occurring.

About five minutes after that, I knocked over a butter churn when four soldiers burst into my father’s farmhouse and demanded I go with them to the castle. I made them clean up the mess, then put on my best dress and did up my hair—in those days, it was thick and golden, and fell to my ankles when unbound—and after traveling to the castle, I went, trembling, up the aisle of the throne room.

Alistair had made an effort that morning to look extra handsome and extra kingly. He still has robes like those, all purple and gold, but the way they set off his black hair and sharp cheekbones that day—I’ve never seen anything like it. He looked half-divine, the spirit of judgment in human form. At the moment, I didn’t feel like laughing at him.

Looming on his throne, he asked me, “Is it true that you advised this man to hide the king’s rightful property from him?” (Alistair hates it when I imitate his voice—but isn’t it a good impression?)

I said yes, it was true, and Alistair asked me why I’d done such a thing, and I said I had known this disaster would result, and he asked how I knew, and I said (and I think it’s quite good), that this is what happens when you have a king who’s too clever to be anything but stupid.

Naturally, Alistair didn’t like that answer a bit, but I’d gotten on a roll, and it was my turn to give him a good tongue-lashing. What kind of king did he think he was, who could look at a man as sweet and honest as my father and suspect him of a crime? Alistair was so busy trying to see hidden lies that he couldn’t see the truth in front of his face. So determined not to be made a fool of that he was making himself into one. If he persisted in suspecting everyone who tried to do him a good turn, no one would be willing to do much of anything for him. And so on and so forth.

You might be surprised at my boldness, but I had come into that room not expecting to leave it without a rope around my neck, so I intended to speak my mind while I had the chance. The strangest thing was that Alistair listened, and as he listened, he lost some of that righteous arrogance until he looked almost human. And the end of it all was that he apologized to me!

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather at that! I didn’t faint, but I came darn close. That arrogant, determined young king, admitting to a simple farmer’s daughter that he’d been wrong?

He did more than admit it—he made amends. He let Father keep the mortar, and then bought it from him at its full value. Then he gifted Father the farm where we lived, making us outright landowners. After the close of the day’s hearings, he even invited us to supper with him, and I found that King Alistair wasn’t a half-bad conversational partner. Some of those books he read sounded almost interesting.

For a year after that, Alistair kept finding excuses to come by the farm. He would check on Father’s progress and baffle him with advice. We ran into each other in the street so often that I began to expect it wasn’t mere chance. We’d talk books, and farming, and sharpen our wits on each other. We’d do wordplay, puzzles, tongue-twisters. A game, but somehow, I always thought, some strange sort of test.

Would you believe, even his proposal was a riddle? Yes, an actual riddle! One spring morning, I came across Alistair on a corner of my father's land, and he got down on one knee, confessed his love for me, and set me a riddle. He had the audacity to look into the face of the woman he loved—me!—and tell me that if I wanted to accept his proposal, I would come to him at his palace, not walking and not riding, not naked and not dressed, not on the road and not off it.

Do you know, I think he actually intended to stump me with it? For all his claim to love me, he looked forward to baffling me! He looked so sure of himself—as if all his book-learning couldn’t be beat by just a bit of common sense.

If I’d really been smart, I suppose I’d have run in the other direction, but, oh, I wanted to beat him so badly. I spent about half a minute solving the riddle and then went off to make my preparations.

The next morning, I came to the castle just like he asked. Neither walking nor riding—I tied myself to the old farm mule and let him half-drag me. Neither on the road nor off it—only one foot dragging in a wheel rut at the end. Neither naked nor dressed—merely wrapped in a fishing net. Oh, don’t look so shocked! There was so much rope around me that you could see less skin than I’m showing now.

If I’d hoped to disappoint Alistair, well, I was disappointed. He radiated joy. I’d never seen him truly smile before that moment—it was incandescent delight. He swept me in his arms, gave me a kiss without a hint of calculation in it, then had me taken off to be properly dressed, and we were married within a week.

It was a wonderful marriage. We got along beautifully—at least until the next time I outwitted him. But I won’t bore you with that story again—

You don’t know that one either? Where have you been hiding yourself?

Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that one. Not if it’s your first time. It’s much better the way Alistair tells it.

What time is it?

Perfect! He’s in his library just now. Go there and ask him to tell you the whole thing.

Yes, right now! What are you waiting for?

Alistair

Faith told you all that, did she? And sent you to me for the rest? That woman! It’s just like her! She thinks I have nothing better to do than sit around all day and gossip about our courtship!

Where are you going? I never said I wouldn’t tell the story! Honestly, does no one have brains these days? Sit down!

Yes, yes, anywhere you like. One chair’s as good as another—I built this room for comfort. Do you take tea? I can ring for a tray—the story tends to run long.

Well, I’ll ring for the usual, and you can help yourself to whatever you like.

I’m sure Faith has given you a colorful picture of what I was like as a young man, and she’s not totally inaccurate. I’d had wealth and power and too much education thrown on me far too young, and I thought my blessings made me better than other men. My own father had been the type of man who could be fooled by every silver-tongued charlatan in the land, so I was sensitive and suspicious, determined to never let another man outwit me.

When Faith came to her father’s defense, it was like my entire self came crumbling down. Suddenly, I wasn’t the wise king; I was a cruel and foolish boy—but Faith made me want to be better. That day was the start of my fascination with her, and my courtship started in earnest not long after.

The riddle? Yes, I can see how that would be confusing. Faith tends to skip over the explanations there. A riddle’s an odd proposal, but I thought it was brilliant at the time, and I still think it wasn’t totally wrong-headed. I wasn’t just finding a wife, you see, but a queen. Riddles have a long history in royal courtships. I spent weeks laboring over mine. I had some idea of a symbolic proposal—each element indicating how she’d straddle two worlds to be with me. But more than that, I wanted to see if Faith could move beyond binary thinking—look beyond two opposites to see the third option between. Kings and queens have to do that more often than you’d think…

No, I’m sorry, it is a bit dull, isn’t it? I guess there’s a reason Faith skips over the explanations.

So to return to the point: no matter what Faith tells you, I always intended for her to solve the riddle. I wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t—but I wouldn’t have asked if I’d had the least doubt she’d succeed. The moment she came up that road was the most ridiculous spectacle you’d ever hope to see, but I had never known such ecstasy. She’d solved every piece of my riddle, in just the way I’d intended. She understood my mind and gained my heart. Oh, it was glorious.

Those first weeks of marriage were glorious, too. You’d think it’d be an adjustment, turning a farmer’s daughter into a queen, but it was like Faith had been born to the role. Manners are just a set of rules, and Faith has a sharp mind for memorization, and it’s not as though we’re a large kingdom or a very formal court. She had a good mind for politics, and was always willing to listen and learn. I was immensely proud of myself for finding and catching the perfect wife.

You’re smarter than I was—you can see where I was going wrong. But back then, I didn’t see a cloud in the sky of our perfect happiness until the storm struck.

It seemed like such a small thing at the time. I was looking over the fields of some nearby villages—farming innovations were my chief interest at the time. There were so many fascinating developments in those days. I’ve an entire shelf full of texts if you’re interested—

The story, yes. My apologies. The offer still stands.

Anyway, I was out in the fields, and it was well past the midday hour. I was starving, and more than a little overheated, so we were on our way to a local inn for a bit of food and rest. Just as I was at my most irritable, these farmers’ wives show up, shrilly demanding judgment in a case of theirs. I’d become known for making those on-the-spot decisions. I’d thought it was an efficient use of government resources—as long as I was out with the people, I could save them the trouble of complicated procedures with the courts—but I’d never regretted taking up the practice as heartily as I did in this moment.

The case was like this: one farmer’s horse had recently given birth, and the foal had wandered away from its mother and onto the neighbor’s property, where it laid down underneath an ox that was at pasture, and the second farmer thought this gave him a right to keep it. There were questions of fences and boundaries and who-owed-who for different trades going back at least a couple of decades—those women were determined to bring every past grievance to light in settling this case.

Well, it didn’t take long for me to lose what little patience I had. I snapped at both women and told them that my decision was that the foal could very well stay where it was.

Not my most reasoned decision, but it wasn’t totally baseless. I had common law going back centuries that supported such a ruling. Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all. It wasn't as though a single foal was worth so much fuss. I went off to my meal and thought that was the end of it.

I’d forgotten all about it by the time I returned to the same village the next week. My man and I were crossing the bridge leading into the town when we found the road covered by a fishing net. An old man sat by the side of the road, shaking and casting the net just as if he were laying it out for a catch.

“What do you think you’re doing, obstructing a public road like this?” I asked him.

The man smiled genially at me and replied, “Fishing, majesty.”

I thought perhaps the man had a touch of sunstroke, so I was really rather kind when I explained to him how impossible it was to catch fish in the roadway.

The man just replied, “It’s no more impossible than an ox giving birth to a foal, majesty.”

He said it like he’d been coached, and it didn’t take long for me to learn that my wife was behind it all. The farmer’s wife who’d lost the foal had come to Faith for help, and my wife had advised the farmer to make the scene I’d described.

Oh, was I livid! Instead of coming to me in private to discuss her concerns about the ruling, Faith had made a public spectacle of me. She encouraged my own subjects to mock me! This was what came of making a farm girl into a queen! She’d live in my house and wear my jewels, and all the time she was laughing up her sleeve at me while she incited my citizens to insurrection! Before long, none of my subjects would respect me. I’d lose my crown, and the kingdom would fall to pieces—

I worked myself into a fine frenzy, thinking such things. At the time, I thought myself perfectly reasonable. I had identified a threat to the kingdom’s stability, and I would deal with it. The moment I came home, I found Faith and declared that the marriage was dissolved. “If you prefer to side with the farmers against your own husband,” I told her, “you can go back to your father’s house and live with them!”

It was quite the tantrum. I’m proud to say I’ve never done anything so shameful since.

To my surprise, Faith took it all silently. None of the fire that she showed in defending her father against me. Faith had this way, back then, where she could look at a man and make him feel like an utter fool. At that moment, she made me feel like a monster. I was already beginning to regret what I was doing, but it was buried under so much anger that I barely realized it, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to back down so easily from another decision.

After I said my piece, Faith quietly asked if she was to leave the palace with nothing.

I couldn’t reverse what I’d decided, but I could soften it a bit.

“You may take one keepsake,” I told her. “Take the one thing you love best from our chambers.”

I thought I was clever to make the stipulation. Knowing Faith, she’d have found some way to move the entire palace and count it as a single item. I had no doubt she’d take the most expensive and inconvenient thing she could, but there was nothing in that set of rooms I couldn’t afford to lose.

Or so I thought. No doubt you’re beginning to see that Faith always gets the upper hand in a battle of wits.

I kept my distance that evening—let myself stew in resentment so I couldn’t regret what I’d done. I kept to my library—not this one, the little one upstairs in our suite—trying to distract myself with all manner of books, and getting frustrated when I found I wanted to share pieces of them with Faith. I was downright relieved when a maid came by with a tea tray. I drank my usual three cups so quickly I barely tasted them—and I passed out atop my desk five minutes later.

Yes, Faith had arranged for the tea—and she’d drugged me!

I came to in the pink light of early dawn, my head feeling like it had been run over by a military caravan. My wits were never as slow as they were that morning. I laid stupidly for what felt like hours, wondering why my bed was so narrow and lumpy, and why the walls of the room were so rough and bare, and why those infernal birds were screaming half an inch from my open window.

By the time I had enough strength to sit up, I could see that I was in the bedroom of a farmer’s cottage. Faith was standing by the window, looking out at the sunrise, wearing the dress she’d worn the first day I met her. Her hair was unbound, tumbling in golden waves all the way to her ankles. My heart leapt at the sight—her hair was one of the wonders of the world in those days, and I was so glad to see her when I felt so ill—until I remembered the events of the previous day, and was too confused and ashamed to have room for any other thoughts or feelings.

“Faith?” I asked. “Why are you here? Where am I?”

“My father’s home,” Faith replied, her eyes downcast—I think it’s the only time in her life she was ever bashful. “You told me I could take the one thing I loved best.”

Can I explain to you how my heart leapt at those words? There had never been a mind or a heart like my wife’s! It was like the moment she’d come to save her father—she made me feel a fool and feel glad for the reminder. I’d made the same mistake both times—let my head get in the way of my heart. She never made that mistake, thank heaven, and it saved us both.

Do you have something you want to add, Faith, darling? Don’t pretend I can’t see you lurking in the stacks and laughing at me! I’ll get as sappy as I like! If you think you can do it better, come out in the open and finish this story properly!

Faith

You tell it so beautifully, my darling fool boy, but if you insist—

I was forever grateful Dinah took that tea to Alistair. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the loophole in his words—I was so afraid he’d see my ploy coming and stop me. But his wits were so blessedly dull that day. It was like outwitting a child.

When at last he came to, I was terrified. He had cast me out because I’d outwitted him, and now here I was again, thinking another clever trick would make everything well.

Fortunately, Alistair was marvelous—saw my meaning in an instant. Sometimes he can be almost clever.

After that, what’s there to tell? We made up our quarrel, and then some. Alistair brought me back to the palace in high honors—it was wonderful, the way he praised me and took so much blame on himself.

(You were really rather too hard on yourself, darling—I’d done more than enough to make any man rightfully angry. Taking you to Father’s house was my chance to apologize.)

Alistair paid the farmer for the loss of his foal, paid for the mending of the fence that had led to the trouble in the first place, and straightened out the legal tangles that had the neighbors at each others’ throats.

After that, things returned much to the way they’d been before, except that Alistair was careful never to think himself into such troubles again. We’ve gotten older, and I hope wiser, and between our quarrels and our reconciliations, we’ve grown into quite the wise pair of lovestruck fools. Take heed from it, whenever you marry—it’s good to have a clever spouse, but make sure you have one who’s willing to be the fool every once in a while.

Trust me. It works out for the best.

[bi-bard]

Make Your Good Love Known to Me - Dream of the Endless Imagine [The Sandman]

Title: Make Your Good Love Known to Me

Pairing: Dream of the Endless X Reader

Based On: As It Was

Word Count: 1,345 words

Warning(s): mention of kidnapping

Summary: Morpheus returning to the dream realm is accompanied by anxiety and uncertainty on many fronts. The only certainty is the love that (Y/n) holds for him after all these years. The goal now was to convince Morpheus of that.

Author's Note: I love how dramatic I can be when I write dialogue for this show.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I had been very hesitant to believe that Morpheus had gone missing.

After he had kissed me and promised to return to me, I refused to believe that anything would have been able to stop him from keeping his word.

However, as the consequences of the dream lord's absence began to show, I had no choice other than to accept the terrifying reality. I could not live in ignorance when the dreaming and waking worlds were suffering in such a way.

I did everything in my power to keep the realms running, but I was not Morpheus. I had nowhere near his power or honor. I was not an Endless. No great entity had any need or desire to visit or assist me.

I was thankful to not be alone.

Through all of it, I had Lucienne constantly by my side. She was the one being that I felt safe enough to confess my fears. I tried to show the realm that I had all the faith in their leader. But when it was just Lucienne and myself, I had no reason to hide my anxieties.

"More damage in the library," Lucienne said as she walked into the throne room.

I closed my eyes and sighed. It was a matter of time before I lost control of the realm. This was a natural consequence of the universe.

"I hope you are not losing hope," she added when she heard my sigh.

I turned around to face her. "I will confess that the hope is starting to feel more like an additional weight on my shoulders. I am caring for the realm, not just for myself."

She nodded at me. "Morpheus will return. We must have faith. You only have this burden to bear for a while longer-"

"I am not him, Lucienne," I cut her off. "My time here has granted me some power to hold this realm together, but I cannot stop it from crumbling forever. This realm was constructed for Morpheus, not me. He needs to come back. Or else everything we have done is pointless. All our time just wasted."

I never doubted that she had a full understanding of how worried and stressed I had been. She had never been anything other than kind to me. It was why I felt so much guilt for letting my fear and stress boil over into anger.

"I apologize," I said. "You have done nothing to deserve my outbursts."

"It is quite alright," she replied. "I miss him too."

"I know," I muttered.

I walked over and hugged her tightly.

"I will continue fighting for this realm as long as you do," I promised. "I will not walk away until you deem it necessary."

She hugged me back. "Morpheus will come home. I can feel it."

I nodded. I wanted to believe that as much as she did.

I clearly should have.

That was the only thought that crossed my mind as I stared at Morpheus across the room from me. I was certain that it was my mind attempting to trick me. Distract me from what I was meant to be doing.

But as the weight of the realm rolled off of my shoulders, I realized that this was real. He was real.

I ran forward, throwing my arms around him. He held me as close as he could.

"Morpheus."

"(Y/n)," he mumbled. "It has been too long."

"A century," I replied. I leaned back and cupped the sides of his face. "I almost lost count."

"I will never be able to express how sorry I am." his hands reached up and touched mine, pressing them harder against his skin.

"I have no need for your apologies. I am just relieved to have you back."

As a heavy sigh escaped me, tears filled my eyes.

My heart told me that this was going to be the moment that everything went back to the normal that I had not known in a hundred years.

That was not the case.

Morpheus seemed to avoid discussing the topic of his absence with me. He hid it well at first. With him going to gather his things again, I accepted his avoidance. However, when he made his way home again and still avoided our conversation, I knew that something was going on in his mind.

I knew that he would not talk to me if I did not force him to.

I found him staring at his large stained-glass windows. I remained silent as I walked up the stairs.

I refused to speak up until I was standing next to him.

"What are you hoping to see, my love," I asked.

"I am afraid that I have no answer," he replied. "Where do I begin in a situation such as this?"

"Looking for the lost dreams?"

"Yes."

"The Corinthian should not pose much difficulty," I said. "Chaos seems to follow just behind him."

"The waking world is composed of more chaos than you would ever believe."

I nodded.

A silence formed between us. It made my hands sweat and my chest feel tight. I craved nothing more than to know that I still had him. That the time away had not changed him so greatly that I lost his love.

"Morpheus," I finally let my voice be heard. "Why have you taken to avoiding me?"

He made no effort to look at me when I looked at him. He tensed for a moment.

"Morpheus..."

"My time away," he relented before I could beg for him to share his thoughts with me. "With all of the damage that it caused both this world and that of the waking, I have grown doubtful that none of that damage has reached you."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"After a century, I would not be surprised if you did not feel as you once did," he continue. "You have no obligation to me."

"I know."

"You can leave if you so desire. I have no interest in forcing your company."

"I would never have stayed if I did not still love you, Morpheus," I turned to him fully. "Such a lie would do neither one of us any good. I am here because I love you. I stayed during your absence because I love you. My feelings have not changed, if anything, they have grown even stronger."

There were no words spoken for a few moments.

I took a deep breath as I moved closer to him.

I cupped the far side of his face, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. I heard a sigh come from him. I kissed his cheek again. And again. And I continued kissing him until he turned his head to mine. Our foreheads touched and we both stopped for a moment.

"I have never and will never stop loving you, Morpheus," I promised. "And I will spend as long as I must reminding you of that fact."

His eyes were closed, but I could tell that my words had sunk into his mind and heart. I could see how his shoulders relaxed and how his jaw seemed to unclench.

I was going to mumble more and more sweet nothings to him, but I was stopped when Morpheus leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

I slowly kissed him back.

The love in my chest seemed to only grow.

I had spent so long without him that being with him again was almost overwhelming. Suffocating in the best way. As if I was losing room to breathe by simply getting to love him again.

I tried to follow his lips as he leaned back.

My eyes slowly opened to find him studying me.

"I love you," he whispered. Some great secret even after all this time.

"I love you too," I replied, feeling a fresh wave of tears prick my eyes.

He leaned in and kissed me again, pulling me as close to his body as he could.

Morpheus meant everything to me.

And I would spend an eternity showing him that.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[annawrites444]

Hey! So I saw you were doing matchups and GODS I couldn’t help myself, I’ve always wanted to try one so… here’s a “few” things about myself:

I like to think of myself as a daughter of Hades or Hecate (yes, I’m a female this is NOT a typo), not sure which since I have traits that could branch from either one. I’m said to be loyal, HEAVILY sarcastic, rude yet kind, creative, playful, something about forgetful(?), and impulsive af. There’s just something about doing something first the moment it comes to your brain than thinking about it that just works. I mean, as Leo said, “thinking tends to disrupt the flow of thinking less.” (Wait, what do you mean that isn’t it? Well… close enough). I’ll always be out there making jabs and annoying my friends on the daily, but also showing my concern and affections if they’re not okay. No matter if they’re just sick or tired. I listen to them whenever there’s something going on, and always try to give advice if I could. Even if I’m not the best (horrible) at it.

Can you tell that I love my family- I mean friends? I’m not gonna lie, I’m willing to take a whole punch to the kidneys or bullet to the chest just for them. I’m not sure if I’m exaggerating or not, but, I don’t know, I just feel like I would take series of Ls just for them.

Is that weird? Yeah, it probably is…

Anyway! What else is there to say… oh!

I love swimming, learning about Greek mythology, listening to music (like musicals), and vibing all around. There’s nothing better than just chilling around (preferably in bed) after another tedious day of life and it’s… life. It just hits RIGHT. But I HATE insects, especially flies. If I see those stupid, fat, spindly-legged ass creatures then I’m running away with my tail between my legs. I don’t know why those scare me in particular, but they do. It’s weird.

But, that should be it! I’m sorry if it’s too long, just take one look and tell me to shorten it if you want. I’m willing to adjust if needed. Have a good day 😊

(Oh yeah, before I forget, I would like to be paired up with a male character and I’m underage (16) so… yeah!)

Matchup! Daughter of Hecate Reader X Leo Valdez

PJO/ HOO universe

(Blurb) Oh Gods. They were everywhere. Those stupid giant mosquitos that never seemed to catch a hint. You were armed with a flyswatter, in a fighting position, on top of your bunk and swatting aimlessly in the air. You were NOT going to back down this time. You forgot a few things occasionally, but you weren’t prepared for forgetting to shut your cabin door behind you before going to eat breakfast. You yelped out in fear as a ginormous mosquito flew inches away from your face. So this is how I die, you thought, annoyed at your previous forgetfulness. You spent a good 20 minutes up there fighting the urge to scream. You siblings were already out and about the camp and were nowhere near to help you. You had made a very handy fly repellent and bug spray but it was sitting on the potions-work table on the opposite side of the cabin. Stealth Mission Kill Flies: GO you decided to pull a mission impossible and jump your way over to the table before they closed in on you. You positioned yourself, ready to jump onto the other bunk a few feet away. 3…2….1..JUMP, you leapt up into the air and face planted onto the other top bunk. Thank the Gods. “YES” You yelled out, excited to finally be one step closer to your goal. You readied yourself for another leap of faith, only to hear a stifled laugh, before you looked over in horror At Leo Valdez, who had just witnessed that whole thing. “Oh…heyy Leo, I can explain-” you flushed with embarrassment. “No need, I think I know what’s going on.” Leo walked over to the bunk you were currently towering over. He looked up at you with an amused smirk across his face. You had a hard time trying to fake annoyance, rather than succumbing to the blush now covering your cheeks. As if on cue, a swarm of big ass mosquitos darted toward you swarming across your head and getting in your face. You yelled out swatting in every direction and didn’t notice how unbalanced you were. You got most of them, except for one, as you reached out to swat him you lost your balance on the edge of the bunk and fell off the top. You braced yourself, expecting to hit the hard wooden floors, when much to your surprise you felt two arms wrapped around you and your head leaning against a shoulder. Oh GODS, Leo had caught you from your fall. You sat there for a second before coming to your senses and jumping out of his grasp. “I’m so so sorry, Leo.” you began to apologize “I swear I’ll be more-” you covered your face with your hands, “No-No problem,”He shook his head, face red as a tomato “it’s all good, Just didn’t expect you to fall for me so early in the morning” He gave you a winning grin before walking over to the bug spray and warding off your unwanted intruders. “I just stopped by to see if you wanted to head down to the lake together to meet up with Piper and Jason?” he held out his hand to you. You rolled your eyes at his cheesy line before debating your plans for the day, “I guess as long as long as we don’t miss training later” You grabbed his hand, fingers interlocked and bit your lip to hide your growing smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it” he led the way out of the dark cabin and into the daylight outside. My hero, you thought. But you'd never tell him that....

(song)

Mission Impossible theme…/j 

Actually though “Bewitched” by Laufey just gives me soft, in love feels. Which I think is kinda perfect for a witchy camper :) Also the lyrics really resonate with the blurb I wrote and what I picture your relationship to feel like, “You wrote me a note cast a spell on my Heart”. 

(Headcanons)

You and Leo are chaotic energy X 2 honestly X10. Like non stop banter at Camp, on the Argo II, everywhere you guys go it’s like a contest to see who gets the final say. There 100% is a chalkboard somewhere on board with a tally of arguments/ conversations won (you’re in the lead with about 27, Leo has 22). 

While you’re both funny people to be around, you are able to find this sensitivity with certain topics and especially with Leo and his trauma surrounding his mom’s death, you always try your hardest to comfort him, even if you don’t know exactly what to say. He appreciates every moment of it, and you kinda just hold him in your arms as he vents to you.

Lake dates are totally a thing, whether it’s just you two, or  with the whole prophecy of 7 in tow you guys make it a habit to go on swims and walks along the shore of the lake every night to take a break from the tiring life of a demigod child of prophecy. 

Leo admires the fire you have within you, to stand up for others, and to speak your mind, he knows you to be the most loyal person at camp. You’re like the big sister for all the little kids, I imagine you especially doting on the demigod kids who are children of minor gods and that end up getting overlooked at times. You’re their advocate and Leo is just HEART EYES. 

After coming back from that final battle with Gaia, you needed a few days to process everything and to be alone, away from other people. Leo was more than happy to calm down your normal schedules and spend a few days on your bunk talking, reading, or just napping in peace and quiet. 

Thank you for your requests and thank you so much for your patience Anon!!

hope you like it :))

-love, Anna <3

[vylad243]

Honestly with the way the Goethals act in general it could be safe to say most of them go down the line of “Anyone I perceive as lower than me I treat like shit” with a few accepting members like Stolas

But speaking of Stolas, if you feel more comfortable going off of what is canon, then maybe the idea could spin off of him? We know him to be respectful and to have enough pull to get meetings with a Sin so it wouldn’t be too far off to say Ozzy asked Stolas to check out the hotel to sponsor it. Maybe during introductions he only bows to Lucifer, the Sins, and Vox and everyone is confused?

Just spitballing with the other anons idea! Whatever you go with will be amazing regardless!

Also just a small question cause I’m curious of what you have planned but how many prompts are you planning on writing/is in your Que? I have like a shit ton of prompts in my inbox and need filtering advice if you’re willing 😭

I am the goddess of fucking around and finding out

I don't mind canon or going off canon. My Alastor and Vox are very ooc after all, but I know the fandom tends to hold Helluva Boss in a higher standard. I never really liked it that much. I've watched it- but I'm Striker. Why does everything gotta be a sex thing? The two season finales were my favourite of Helluva Boss, which ironically included little to no Stolas

I could definitely see Stella and her brother treating the sinners and overlords are faith on their shoes while Stolas and Octavia hold the sins and Vox in higher regard

Ozzie would definitely be pulling the strings to get Stolas to visit the Hazbin Hotel if I go that route.

I like working off of your guy's ideas. It's very fun and helps me world build 🙏

~~~~~~

Ahahaha my ask box is also full of different prompts. I have omega-verse, the Vee's joining the battle, and injured Alastor are three I can name off the top of my head (because I'm writing them right now) but I think I have like 10 or 11 in there. One is also a beauty and the beast ay which I'm mulling over

As for how I filter them out- prompts are things I want to be able to enjoy writing. Some of my prompts have been quite large- and while I don't mind the large ones, it gives me a lot less freedom with them because I feel like I have to rewrite a whole story that was just in the my box. I never deleted any, though. I just put them in their in tag just in case I feel like writing them later- but ones I am writing right now/want to write sit in my box so I can shuffle through them. It keeps it organized

I haven't encountered any rude people yet- so I haven't had to reject anyone for demanding things from me (which like I'm always ready for a debate on the internet, I find them funny) and with how nice everyone is, I usually feel bad for denying them. It's way I take so long to deny people. I want to make sure this is actually something I don't plan on writing in the near future

My way to filter out prompts is

- I need creative freedom to write so I don't feel miserable writing. This is one of the main ones. My brain is very hectic and I find myself tapping out if I can't bring my own ideas to the table. It's also why none of my works are exactly like the prompts im given

- I have enough context to write a fic on it

- I would actually enjoy writing it

- it's a world/au I'm aware of or contributed to. Nothing is worse than being handed a fully built universe and being asked to write for it with little to no explanation on how the universe works

- the people are nice to me.

- I know I make a few jokes here and there, but I like to keep in mind that I'm making free work for people. I'm not being paid to do this, and people aren't paying me to write out the prompts. I love writing fanfiction and it's a great hobby, but if you're genuinely just not interested in doing something- you don't have too. Writing it meant to be fun and inspiration is a fickle thing. You don't want to push it too hard or it's going to shove back. I've learnt that the hard way

- bonus way to do it- sometimes people leave comments, and I find them funny, and I get creative with them. I censored a whole chapter of month in rut because someone told me to let the characters swear. I'm also a very petty person

This is just personal, but I keep my prompts 1k-3.5k words just so it's decently sized, but not overly large

Hope this helps!

[tyrannuspitch]

i know it's probably a lot MORE vexing to be on the other side of this equation [ie: a norse myth enthusiast when the public image of your passion has been swallowed whole by Some Hollywood Film that just makes shit up]...

but it is still incredibly vexing to me how so many people who are clearly very well-versed in and passionate about norse myth will tell you that mcu thor is terrible while displaying the most surface-level understanding of it.

like. argh. obviously it's fine to personally dislike something for being inaccurate, but "inaccuracy" is not necessarily an artistic flaw in and of itself. sometimes change is just change.

"ah," you say, "but i don't dislike it for being inaccurate, i dislike it because all the changes are simplifying and reductive." are you sure? is it really that the version you know is complex and subtle, and the version you're seeing for the first time is shallow and dumbed-down... or is it just that you're seeing this version for the first time? is it actually less complex" or is it just complex in different ways from what you're expecting?

but also, mcu thor was never going or trying to be mythologically accurate, because it's literally not an adaptation of the myths. it's an adaption of the comics.

yes, it definitely would be cool to have a blockbuster film that accurately depicted norse myth... but that film wouldn't be "marvel's thor". because marvel's thor is his own entity, and he is not interchangeable with his mythological counterpart. if you wrote about myth!thor when you were meant to be writing about marvel!thor, that would be inaccurate too, and, unlike the films we have, you would be failing your brief.

and god it's just really frustrating because like. even a lot of people who like these movies don't see what they're doing, and don't understand that the simplistic hero narrative is something they're setting up specifically to knock down... but that's going to be even harder to see when you're trying to view the movies through a myth lens, given that they're designed to be viewed either through a comic lens or no lens at all.

you need to trust these movies if you want to see what makes them good, and if you come in with the wrong set of expectations, they're not going to look very trustworthy! they're trying to critique and re-complexify the simplified narrative of (the worst version of) the comics, but if you don't know the comics, you're going to think the movies did all the simplifying themselves, and if you don't have patience or faith in the movies, you're not notice to see the self-subversion going on.

which would all be difficult enough to begin with. but then we also have the fact that these movies are near-universally seen as Bad Movies, disposable, soulless, low art, unworthy of study, etc etc. which means that simply trying to defend them is going to lower your credibility in a lot of people's eyes, and the likelihood of anyone ever actually listening to you and believing you on this topic is pretty much negligible. it is at this point that i conclude that i have most likely fallen victim to a wizard's curse and should resign myself to being trapped in the labyrinth(tm) for the rest of my days.

[reedsofintimacy]

How smart are you? You’ve given some hints before but how many degrees do you have? What are you studying? What do you want to do in live professionally and passionately? What’s your purpose career wise?

Also hypothetically would you be open to being your wives employee if she had a really successful company?

I actually don't have any degrees! I'm a nerd and smart but also certainly have my flaws.

For context, I was an honors student all growing up. Always tested in the 99th percentile for state aptitude assessments. I got a 33 on my ACT, did well on a bunch of AP tests and went to a non-ivy-league but prestiguous state school in the top 25% of the incoming class and as a university scholar, in an accelerated chemistry PhD program, and lived in an honors community on campus.

I learned to speak some Chinese, became an instructor for a traditional Korean percussion group, led a bible study, tutored students in organic chemistry, and did excellent in my humanities courses writing on topics like a linguistic study of gender conception in viking-era icelandic society and designing an interventional plan to address youth homelessness in the community.

College was the best 2 years of my life, I adored everything about it but I also completely overloaded myself. Turns out you need more than raw brains for success. I was conflicted between prioritizing my studies vs my faith, and had unadressed adhd and anxiety i wasnt ever aware of and didnt know how to cope with. When my 19 credit hours were drowning me, I couldnt own up to the shame of overwhelm and failure, couldnt look my teachers in the eye and ultimately stopped showing up to class and dropped out.

I'm now back in school with a better understanding of myself, an absense of competing priorities and a lot of experience. Im pursuing working in Radiology doing either CT or MRI. A lot of my friends growing up are finishing their PhD theses and I love discussing them with them, but I myself don't have even an associate's to my name.

Career wise, I originally wanted to be a professor of either Chemistry or Materials Science. I debated majoring in Linguistics or teaching English as a second language but i don't speak anything fluent enough to really do that yet. I've since considered pursuing a career in comedy, as a science communicator and journalist or PIO, as a university student advisor, and taught myself to code to maybe pursue programming.

I love learning. Currently I'm putting the most effort into Chinese classical literature. I've done personal units on nutrition, skincare, fitness, urban planning, economics, and some software like adobe illustrator and game dev with Unity and Godot.

For my professional future, I think I'm for now planning on being a travelling technician in healthcare. It'd give me an opportunity to see lots of different places which is a goal of mine and shouldn't have too many commitments keeping me held in place. Maybe I'll finally get over my fear of casual hookups and become a traveling nurse by day and city-to-city clit servicer by night sampling all sorts of delicious lady bits. Idk. For now I'm just focused on what I'm doing in the moment.

In terms of passions I want time and independence to pursue learning as an autodidact. I'd love to maintain access to university libraries and attend lots of public lectures and symposiums if i could live near enough a big university. I want to read about the things that interest me and someday get over my social anxiety and travel to make friends all over the world with fellow nerds.

In terms of working for my wife of course that would be really sexy I'd love to be my partners doting but slutty assistant 💕 depending on the industry i guess. I think something like insurance or real estate is kind of predatory tbh and wouldnt want to be associated with it. But if I didn't have an issue with it I'd adore being my partners employee. Or even just a supportive house husband or trusted personal assistant ❤️❤️ a role i've always thought I have the potential to be quite good at

[insurrection-if]

ooo you're developing a new IF, author?

Aha, not quite! (；´∀｀)

Hunters is a part of the interconnected Universe of fiction concepts I have, so its nothing new in the catalogue. Other ideas in that Universe—Bird Caught in Wires (cyberpunk), In Blind Reverence (crime thriller?), and Faith & Beauty (fantasy intrigue with romance focus)—are much more developed in characters, plot, and concepts while dating back to my high school years.

Though, fun fact, when I decided to try my hand at IF, Hunters was a main contender for adaptation alongside Faith & Beauty and Insurrection. Insurrection being the oldest and most developed with its characters, concept, and plot trajectory won out since I thought that would translate to less pre-development revising for interactive storytelling . . . Until the HAWKS replaced the CONDORS as the core protagonists, thus setting so much pre-development on fire until I had to rebuilt from the ashes, haha! （；^ω^）

All the ideas in this Universe, except for Insurrection, are no priority or actualized IF. They’re more so pallet cleansers to just change things up in my daydreams so it’s not Insurrection overload in my brain, and that leads to ideas I figure I might as well jot down.

Hunters rests more on the undeveloped side—set pieces / realms, concepts, cultures, etc.—as it is all more so vague on its elements. The first defined characters other than vague outlines or silhouettes in my head are the brainstormed RO cast— and that allows me to get the ball rolling on an extended cast and plot around them . . . though in a rather passive manner as Insurrection takes the lead.

Hunters is particularly fun for me since it's so freeform. Mm, on the scale from ordered to chaos, it would rest second-to-last on chaotic (since it's so freedom in its elements) while the absolute chaotic end of the scale is occupied by the entire appeal of This World Was Never Ours which (to me) is the pure mashup and lawlessness of the setting and characters. Different planets, deities, societies, species, customs, worship, so on . . . it's all quite entertaining to me as it allows for so much switch-up and exploration!

I'll indulge myself a bit and share the (half-)mortal RO concepts below the cut. Aside from them, the romanceable Divines I have in mind would be founded upon Desire, Death, Justice, and Creation. Again though, Insurrection is the sole active IF on my plate, haha! (ｏ'ｖ｀ｂ)ｂ

Creed / Verina

Deemed a Paragon, etched into eternal myth, the Knight exhibits pride and grace with the subtle elegance worthy of a natural-born Divine. Sired by the Abyss and a Star, the Knight has been condemned to an immortal existence— lonely eons given meaning through their service to Order in the face of Chaos. Severe in their presence, righteous in their actions, none would dare to defy their curt and cold command. Their initiation into the Hunters is near ancient, though not soon enough to stand as a core founder. Recent centuries have inspired their bitter distaste towards most others that bear the society's mark, yet still they remain faithful to the 'brotherhood' their fellow Hunters demand.

Their half-Celestial nature is unhidden to the eye. Broad and muscular, the nightly darkness of their surface entraps shifting hues of violet and blinking stars contained within their humanoid form. Their hair, composed of a brilliant white flame kept short and neat when in a male form or flowing to their mid-back in a female form, flickers with life in accordance to their movement and emotions - always seeming to retain a soft brush as though caught within an eternal breeze. The hollowed space where human eyes would rest instead contains miniature blue suns. Typically mouthless, their face may adapt to inhabit more humanoid features such as a nose or mouth to better convey their emotions. Most notable about their shape is it’s tendency to melt into the shadows, capable of consuming an audience or room in its darkness or extending into tendrils at will. Their form is ultimately a shell, malleable yet fixed.

Their presence remains limited to the Courts of Divines or the battlefield, a life reflected in their penchant for black and blue-tinted ceremonial armor and attachment to their blade gifted by Justice.

Doran / Iris

Raised in the Court of Love, and former military in the realm of Curiosity, Doran / Iris is easily mistakable for yet another member of lowly humankind. Cunning and sly, playful with danger and desire, they are driven by their sense of curiosity and generous self-interest. They are a closet academic (an expert in histories, divinities, and customs) and bear a neutral stance on the killing of gods (caring more so for the reward that follows the deed). Flirtatious with rare intent to follow through, their true love seems to be the thought of adventure knocking at their door. Truly, their rank as a Hunter originated more from a desire to uncover the mysteries surrounding the exclusive and secretive organization from within than anything else. If anything, they might have been more suited to the life of a rogue or thief, yet the notoriety prestige of a Hunter keeps their lifestyle entertaining enough to not complain. Perhaps the most closely guarded secret about their person is their nature as a shapeshifter . . . a trait that proves to be most useful when unknown to others.

Their default human-esque appearance is fitted with pale skin, choppy golden hair, upturned green eyes, and a beauty mark rested upon their upper right cheek. Their lithe frame is fitted with black dress pants. pristine leather shoes, leather gloves, a half-open bell sleeved (corset) top, and half-cloak - though their attire is quite adaptable based on their immediate environment.

They are often found in forbidden vaults, courts, sanctuaries, palaces, or wherever else trouble and excitement can be stolen (or simply found).

Oliver / Olive

Partnered with the MC upon their initiation, Olive(r) seems to be a far cry from the iconic battle-hardened image of a Hunter. Born in the realm of Tranquility, their calm and amiable nature has made them quite the mediator in foreign lands. Impossibly tall with lean musculature, their demure stance greatly veils the true danger they possess as an elite archer trained in the Border Guard. Their home clan, abundant and lively, stirs homesickness through the decades spent apart, yet the former hunter and guard is loyal to the duty they've sworn. Olive(r) seeks out corrupt and cruel deities to deliver a swift and justified end, though they greatly fear the fate of the worshippers left behind.

Adorned in tight and sparse embroidered leather - rarely agreeing to more than low-waisted leather bottoms, boots, belt, and half-jacket (+ bra if female) - Olive(r) is more used to the free-spirited standard of appearance that is not always acceptable abroad. Their straight and silky dark turquoise locks, loose if male and braided if female, extends to their waist while bearing the occasional flower (or crown of them if possible). Their complexion ranges across their entire frame from teal to a forest green, sporadic and vague spots or gradients altering based on emotion, yet their entire body becomes luminescent in darkness as their colors shift from a royal purple to lavender shades. Their ears are elongated and sharp, commonly jutting out horizontally with considerable rotation and motor control. Their teeth are blunt, their pupils are rectangular, and (if male) white horns of a stag protrude from his forehead or (if female) an amethyst gem rests in the center of her forehead. And what cannot be overlooked is the flexible tail that grazes along the floor as a commonly inconvenient feature in certain realms.

Always close to the MC’s side, they often prefer to wander among the locals and immerse themselves in the common lives of the people to better assess the injustices or graces of the ruling Divine in that domain.

Itzal / Ihintza

Vindictive and harsh, the child to Grief has drowned themself in an endless pool of blood and vendettas. Their tongue is sharp fittingly sharp for their biting words. There is a fire in their eyes, a relentless passion in the methodical hunt they lead. They tend to become possessive over those under their protection, and bear a general melancholic air beneath the aggressive nature they try to exude. A wanderer by heart, they demonstrate few moral boundaries when it comes to their sense of justice and survival. They bear little to no reservations on which Divines to slaughter, making them a favored companion / courtier to the otherwise soft-spoken Death. Actions often precede words in their company, and bloodthirst tends to arise when their self-discipline slips from their grasp. A loner and outcast, they long to possess some sense of salvation or hope in their dreaded immortal existence.

Black paint smears itself across the upper portion of their face. Crimson outlines their eyes before trailing down their cheeks in fading lines. Ashen skin, blackened up to the elbows with jagged ends to the ichor shade, has become horribly scarred through the onslaught of pain and punishment received over a lifetime. Their sharp eyes, partially obscured by their (if male) short and curly or (if female) hip-length and curly dark hair, contain nothing but a vibrant red that glows in darkness. Long black claws extend from their rough hands, curved black horns protrude from their head, leathery wings extend from their back, and elven ears mark their mortal parentage. Dual fangs along their upper and bottom row of teeth further heighten their threatening appearance, though their mouth is often veiled behind a thick black scarf paired with a dark hood. Light armor outlines their (if male) husky or (if female) curvaceous figure and pairs with high boots and heavy jewelry along their ears. Painted markings in crimson or black across their physique often tell the tale of their most recent kills, washed through magical ritual only when room is needed for a tale more glorious or meaningful.

Their presence roams across broken lands left in ruin, near inaccessible to the common mortal. If not lurking near their next mark, they keep to the fringes of life.

Shahbaz/ Kamaria

More akin to an assassin than Hunter, they toe the line of disgrace as they have turned their sights more to mortal corruption while seemingly blind to the whims of the Divine. Quiet and reserved, their presence often remains undetected as death follows in their wake. Born in godless lands, their survival to this point has been hard-earned and riddled with poisonous guilt. Humble and cautious, they tend to observe from the shadows and work independently from those that may turn their blades upon them in the blink of an eye. They are diligent, dependable, but somewhat dreamy as they become absorbed in their ponderous musings that bring much needed ease and reflection to their soul. As a Hunter, they are notoriously brutal and selective, feared by mortals as much as they are feared by Divines despite never once causing an ounce of harm to the (undeserving) former. Truly, in their heart of hearts, there is a kind mercy for the helpless and downtrodden beneath the terrifying visage their reputation has branded upon them.

For such a subdued personality, their athletic presence provides a sharp contrast with its striking harshness and allure. Their hardened skin is composed of volcanic rock, magma encased with an eternal burning flow beneath their rough surface. Its glow emits from their opened mouth (even slightly through pressed lips), their empty gaze, and the unhealed cracks when broken by assailants. Enchantment allows their skin to soften into a more fleshy substance, still heated beneath one’s touch and radiant with a orangish-red tint, though the activation of this magic is signified by azure markings that hum with a dim light across the entirety of their flesh. The outer layers of their hair are a deep red, brightened by the orange lumination in the under layers. Shahbaz tries to style the thick waves back from his face whereas Kamaria lets her locks bounce at a chin-length. Their ears are small and pointed, and their tongue is elongated in a snake-like fashion. They often dress in heavy red traveling robes with golden accents, but generally adopt local attire that offers the most masking to their visage. They bear a fondness for jewelry, yet forgo the acquirement of it due to fears of marking themself as a target for thieves and criminals. Instead, their twin blades must suffice.

Their time is spent in quiet sanctuaries in the heart of busy abundance, seeking out isolation while keeping the assurance of life close by.

[blueiight]

21 13 6 🤓

6. Are you afraid of death?

actually its really soothing to me to know that one of the universal human experiences is death. im upset when other ppl i know die moreso bc its the loss of their presence forever + the way they died being in a way of suffering [like being shot or stabbed..] but im not afraid of my own death. when it comes, itll come. ive cheated her a few times anyways, shes been waiting for me lol

13. Are you religious? How? Why?

ive had really negative formative experiences w/ religious leaders + as a result id think about what 'god' means.. god really is an ideal concept of humanity, or what humans [mainly men creating what would become faiths] conceive of as the ideal architect of creation, and i believe that the first step in self hatred is being raised to believe u will never be allowed to be centered as an ideal human or creator of anything.. metaphysics+ all aside on the question of 'god's' existence in the first place, i just dont find it fit for myself to patronize many of the world's big religions when women like me are represented as harlots, as aberrations + mistakes in the eyes of a 'god'. why would i worship something that hates me? on the other hand, im not arrogant enough to think i am anywhere near close to the truth to be definitive enough for myself, much less to even dare to say what others should believe...

21. “The quality of mercy is not strain’d, / It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven”. Are you merciful? Or, if you do not know, if given the opportunity to forgive someone who had wronged you greatly, would you forgive them?

id like to lie and say no, im cut throat bc while admittedly i am argumentative and cocky n unforgiving to ppl irdc about... but really if ur close enough to me (talk to me more than twice) im soft as fuck and forgive any wrong done against me for the sake of companionship

[sparksinthenight]

Transcendental

I feel You, Allah, in each pang of hunger and each twist of emptiness in my body. I feel You in all Your infinity, yet I know I am feeling but a shadow of Your eternity, infinity, amazing and awe striking. Empathy, this fast is teaching me empathy. For so many are empty. So many are hungry. So many are hungry and they are Your children. They are Your children and You are hungry alongside them. Your hunger is a mother’s hunger. You are the mother of us all. We came not from Your body but from Your soul. My hunger is a lover’s hunger. I love all Your hungry children and I love You. I would do whatever You want me to. It’s not easy, walking Your path. It’s not easy walking the path that you have set down. To love humanity, nature, and all of creation the way You do. It requires sacrifice, and constant giving. Yet when I fast for Your sake I know I can sacrifice anything. It takes strength, to go against society. Yet when I keep going through the hunger I know I’m strong enough to endure. It takes faith, to keep going even when you don’t have all the answers. And when I fast my faith in You grows. It takes love to fight against Shaytan’s temptations. But when I fast my love for You flows. My love for You in all that You are. Your life force is in each person, each creature, each rock, tree and star. My love for all of the children You are. You are the living waters both near and far. It takes self-control to do all that you’ve got to. When I fast I learn to control my life through Your presence. It takes self control to keep going even when it’s hard. When I fast I teach myself perseverance. Sacrifice, faith, love, control, strength and empathy. But most of all what I learn is humility. To know that I’m just a letter in Your book. To know that outside myself I must look. And yet I am the universe, and so is everyone, and so is all that You create. You’re justice, You’re honour, You’re camaraderie, You’re life. You’re the love that cannot abate.

[slashingdisneypasta]

(May I join T or D game? 🦊)

1) I'll eat the whole thing in one bite and risk a brainfreeze! Then I'll look him straight in the eyes as I snap the stick in half! Hopefully he'll get the message...

2) If I brought a boy home then he must be a very good friend! I wouldn't bring just anyone home! I'll find someone else for Jenn (seems like a good way to get rid of some creep/douche/sleezebag lol)

3) Bubba better sit his ass down and go nowhere near that thing! I'll handle the feeding!

4) Are noise conceling headphones an opinion?! Or playing music on speakers so loud I don't hear my own thoughts?! If not, I'll shut him up myself! He'll feel the rage of an s*x-repulsed asexual who didn't get a good night sleep in weeks! I will put a fear of God into him (even if he's not religious)! *Angry tired ace noises*

5) I'm pretty small and skinny so I could probably slip between Jason and Michael with them barely noticing me! Or I'm sure Jason would be polite enough to step aside for a second if I ask nicely, his mother did raised him right after all! There's no point in asking Michael, he'll either just continue to stare or even attempt to stab me, so no thank you!

6) Call me crazy but BJ! I'm not familiar enough with Drayton. Besides, my special talent is being able to ignore someone completaly no matter what they do! He'll be wondering if he's invisible again 😈

7) *runs into the kitchen at lighting speed, grabs the snacks and runs out*

8) I'll do my best to try calm Carrie down! I'm pretty sure she's more scared then I am! Such powers can be overwhelming and it's not her fault if she still sometimes can't control them! (If I fail, I'd like INK and Aurelio Voltaire to play at my funeral)

9) (I picked the Slasher before I saw the list) So now Jason is fighting Pennywise! Damn!! I wonder how that would end?!

10) There's absolutely NO WAY I'm getting any help from Freddy! I'll admit what I did to Pam! It was a honest mistake and hopefully she'll understand. Ofc I'll clean all the mess and pay to fix/replace if anything is broken

11) I'll choose truth! I'm super honest (sometimes too much) and don't mind any question they throw at me!

12) I like Jerry's style more, so I'll pick him! He better not mess it up though, or Elijah will be hearing about it!

13) The Clown does not scare me at all! I think the idea is hillarious and choose opinion B *evil laughter* I have camera ready 🎥 ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

You can always join, Fox Anon!! Hey! ^^

Omggggggg, I love your answers so so much XDD

Omg, I think he's got it!!! XDDD

You make a VERY good point... And they're going to a better place anyway XDD Jen's stomach.

You're so brave!! But yes lets protect the Bubba XD

Get him, Fox anon!! I've got your back. From way back here, far far away from Patrick... I've got your back... but I've got it!!

Y'all have so much faith in the manners of a man who's forte is just flingin' people out of his damn way

6. Oh!! You took that class too?? XD Haha. Omg XD I love the little devil emoji you put at the end, too, so funny XDD

7. XDDDDDDDD Zoom

8. I've got you.

9. Oooh, I dunno- but I hope Jason wins!

10. Good news! That was a test- and you passed. Pamela likes you and you may befriend Jason XD ^^

11. Hey, at least people know where they stand with you! I love honest people!

Hmmmmm, here's your truth from Billy and Stu: If you had the choice to leave this universe and jump into the A Nightmare On Elm Street universe... and you got to be a dream demon with all that power, as well... but you had to spend your eternity with Freddy- would you go?

12. Oooh, do you mean the original version?? He does have good style. The red scarf?? Perfect accessorization XD Which Chucky then copied.

OOF, Jerry better do his best then!

13. Ohhhhhhhhhhh this one made me cackle XDD Freddy's is going to DIE, man!!

Thank you for playing and sharing your answers!! They're great!! XD

[leonbloder]

The Voice Of The River

I promised a friend that while on my solo road trip this summer, I would reread Herman Hesse's most influential and famous work, Siddartha. 

In the book, Siddartha leaves his family as a young man to pursue a contemplative life. He then becomes restless and discards it to pursue wealth, romance, and power. He then becomes sickened by his own lust and greed and walks away from everything once again. Siddartha finds himself near a river where he hears a unique sound. This sound signals the true beginning of his life—suffering, rejection, peace, and wisdom.  

The copy I have is around 35 years old, given to me by a co-worker who I had countless hours discussing faith and life with as I was then wholly walking away from Christianity.   

He inscribed, "I flatter myself to think that we are kindred spirits; may our paths cross often." 

Sadly, our paths have never crossed since then, but I have placed my copy of Siddartha on every bookshelf in every home office or church office I've ever occupied.  

I reread the book while I was on my trip, aware that I was reading about a spiritual journey while I was on my own spiritual journey.  

There is a passage toward the end of the book when Siddartha sits by a river, listening to it intently.  The river had spoken to him many times before, but suddenly he began to hear many voices.  

This quote landed on me, and I have considered it ever since: 

They all belonged to each other: the lament of those who yearn, the laughter of the wise, the cry of indignation and the groan of the dying.  They were all interwoven and interlocked, entwined in a thousand ways. And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world.  

After finishing the book, I went to a creek flowing just down the hill from my campsite, took off my shoes, and sat on a rock with my feet in the water.   

I did my best to listen for any voices that might be speaking to me in the rushing water, but I heard nothing except the sound of the creek and some screaming children playing downstream. 

My peace dissipated as I focused on the kids making noise.  

I felt myself growing annoyed, then angry.  I tried telling myself, "They're just kids having fun," but my desire had been to discover something about myself in the creek, and all I was discovering was that I was a grumpy old dude. 

However, the longer I sat there, the more I realized that the voices I was hearing "from the river" were full of joy and exuberance.  A slow smile grew as I imagined what was happening in the happy sounds and splashing in the distance. 

The river brought them joy, and they returned their happiness to the river.  I began to feel one with them.  I watched the water flowing around my legs and feet and had a vision that a part of me was joining with the kids downstream, splashing and laughing around them and with them. 

I don't know how long I sat there, but it was long enough for the shouts of joy to subside and quiet to return, except for the sound of running water and birds singing in the trees above. 

And these, too, had their own things to say to me, but I'll keep those conversations to myself now.  Suffice it to say, I found myself breathing more easily, the tightness in my shoulders relaxed, and I felt only gratitude. 

It's interesting how reading about other faith traditions has helped me grow in my faith and become less stringent in my beliefs.  

As I read the above passage from Siddartha, I couldn't help but recall the Apostle Paul's words about how God is the "ground of all our being" and that through Christ, "God was reconciling all the world to [Godself]."  He also boldly claimed that Christ is "in all, through all, and is all."  

For those of us who call ourselves Jesus-Followers, the one-ness of the Universe is something worth lifting up.  If we are willing to be still and listen, we can learn what this means for our lives and for the transformation of the world around us. 

May it be so, and may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen. 

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

Can she accomplish the impossible to save the ones she loves?No Rest for the Witchy by Brenda Trim and Tia Didmon is coming soon to a Kindle near you! Universal: https://geni.us/NRFTW

An innocent mistake. A lost connection. A magical death. After losing access to the Well of Souls and no foreseeable way to help Spencer, a new crisis arises when Faith and Nishi begin to display magical abilities. I turn to my husband for help, but he is pulling farther away from me as the lure of immortality takes its toll on our relationship. In the midst of my emotional turmoil, my powers begin to wane and I am not the only one affected. As mine and Eve’s magic continues to destabilize, certain members of the council are out for blood and an ally gives us information on an unusual artifact that may help us. But it hasn’t been seen in centuries and may be located in a lost tomb. Can I turn from a relic hunter to a tomb raider to save myself and my friends, or am I one misstep away from elevating my daughter to the next vault keeper? Find out what lurks in the shadows of Ravenholde by reading No Rest for the Witchy the new Paranormal Women's Fiction series readers are comparing to Shannon Mayer, K.F. Breene, and Victoria Dannan. One click to continue this Magical Midlife adventure now!

About The Authors

A USA Today bestselling author, Brenda loves everything paranormal. She has co-authored over twenty-five books in the best-selling Dark Warrior Alliance series, as well as the Hollow Rock Shifters series. She also has best-selling solo titles readers are raving about. Brenda created worlds that feature dangerously handsome heroes and feisty heroines. With the help of popcorn and candy, she takes dragons, fairies, witches, vampires, and so much more and brings them to life. She lives in Texas with her husband and three kids who fuel not only her heart but her life. If she's not writing, she's reading, traveling, or knee-deep in projects with her husband and five sisters. She encourages readers to Dream Big. If your dreams don't terrify and electrify you then they aren't big enough!  

Tia Didmon is a USA Today bestselling author of provocative paranormal romance. When Tia isn't busy writing about sexy shifters and dreamy demons, she spends her time binge watching The Order and reruns of The Vampire Diaries, cooking with her daughter, and serving her cat. Her love of writing stems from a self-diagnosed book addiction.  Subscribe to Tia's newsletter at tiadidmon.com for a free book and start your journey through Tia's supernatural world today!  Find Them Both Online! https://www.brendatrim.com https://tiadidmon.com

[shammah8]

"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD."

Psalm 31:24

STANDING STRONG

Until the fall of President Ceausescu in 1989, Romania was one of the most important countries for Open Doors Bible delivery ministry. We supplied countless Bibles and books — especially to Pastor Paul Negrut of the Baptist Church in Oradea. He later wrote to Brother Andrew and said, “In a divinely appointed network, we would receive a small number of Bibles to be distributed quietly and carefully among believers. Although the food supply was scarce, the Romanian believers treasured the Word of God more than anything in this world. When asked to choose between food parcels and Bibles, every Romanian that I know asked for Bibles.

 

“What Open Doors has done for us is better described in the words of a Christian lady who whispered to her husband, ‘The angels have arrived.’ Their little daughter heard those words and rushed into the next room to see the angels. To her surprise and disappointment, the ‘angels’ she saw were two bearded men casually dressed. The little girl had great difficulty reconciling her imagination about angels with the reality she saw. As strange as this looked for that little girl, this is the spiritual reality: for us you have been God’s angels that brought us the Bread of Life.”

 

Previously, Open Doors knew that the little Baptist Church of Oradea was likely to be knocked down at any moment as it was located in a slum clearance area. A new building was badly needed, because the little church was nowhere near big enough to accommodate all the believers anymore. However, the possibility of the church being granted planning permission for a new building was very slim.

 

At the beginning of 2005, we found that the little church still had not been pulled down, but it was no longer in use. A beautiful, big, new church had taken its place — a gigantic church, which seats 3,000. Every Sunday it is completely full, as it was in the past, right into the aisles. During the week, Bible studies are held for about 400 teenagers and young adults.

 

Dr. Paul Negrut’s church is heavily involved in evangelism and missionary work, reaching to Central Asia, Russia and the Middle East. They even have a theological university where pastors receive training. Students come not only from Romania but also from the missionary fields. One student is from Yakutsk (Siberia).

 

But not all believers in Romania are getting on well. Pastor Paul says, “In my experience, 95% of the believers who faced the test of external persecution passed it, while 95% of those who now face the test of prosperity fail it.”

 

But he also quickly analysed the situation of persecution well: “It is not persecution itself but the lessons learned under persecution that make and keep the Church and an individual believer strong in the Lord…what makes the difference is how we respond to persecution and how we respond to freedom.” [27] Stand strong in the Lord!

Response

Today I will prepare myself for the hard assignments in responding biblically to challenges.

Prayer

Pray for Romania that God will revive His church to stand strong in the face of prosperity.

27 Audrey Dorsch, “After the Persecution—What Then?” Faith Today (November/December 1992), p.60.

© 2013 Open Doors International. Used by permission.

[ahopkins1965]



Nahum 1:3 says: The Lord is slow to anger, and great in power, and will not at all acquit the wicked: the Lord hath his way in the whirlwind and in the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet.  What this is saying is that the Lord is slow to anger.  This is the truth because the Lord God will always be there with you.  He knows that we cannot make it without his help.  The Lord is great in power.  God has all power, and that is power that we wish we could have at our disposal.



The Lord God will not aquit the wicked.  Frankly, I have changed my ways because I used to be a backbiter myself.  A backbiter is a person who talks about you behind your back and is scared to come to your face just to solve matters.  Someone told a big lie on me recently by saying that I was talking about my best friend.  The only thing I have said is that I will try my best to visit Charlotte, NC.  I need to get a job because Social Security is watching me very carefully.  This is because I was making money from publishing two books in two years.  The Social Security Administration specifically stated to my face that they are reviewing my entire situation.  They are mad at me for earning money for myself.



Further, I would like to work again in the near future.  I have to go back to school and earn another college education.  The Lord is not showing any mercy to those who are always in trouble.  I want to inform all of you that I have to get my act together and pay off my student loans and other bills.  I guess what my family members want me to do is become a two face person.  I used to be that way years ago.  People who are two face cannot be trusted by anyone.

Moreover, I have changed my behavior for the better.  I used to be a backbiter and a sinner.  I used to tell lies all of the time.  I have lost a lot of close friends and family members do not trust me anymore. My own family members do not have faith in me anymore.  My family members accused me of talking to scammers and computer hackers on a daily basis.  I got scammed out of$16,977 dollars in Western Union Funds.  I don't be online as much as I used to.  The scammers are uploading naked pictures of women on my Facebook page.  The scammers remember my information for the rest of their lives because I was stupid enough to give it to them.

Finally, I am a person who is 58 years old and I have a lot of common sense right now.  I am very intelligent and smart academically.  Even though I had a 2.63 GPA in college at the University of Toledo.  I had to study very hard in school.  The Lord is watching all of us inside of the clouds and the whirlwind.  My overall Grade Point Average is a 2.41.  My Nephews College at Tiffin is undefeated in the conference in Football.  There was a time when I used to abhor school because of my selfish ways.  I had a real bad disposition in the past.  I only made myself fail at various things.  I had to overcome having a learning disability for a total of 5 years.  I have achieved success in school and on the job.  Please keep me in your prayers and thoughts because I suffer from Alzheimer's and Seizures.  I also suffer from Type 2 Diabetes Full Blown and Schizoid Affective Disorder and Schizophrenia right now.  I am under surveillance by the US Government right now.  I cannot get a job because I am a victim of Age Discrimination and Mentally Illness.

In Conclusion, I am a hard worker and a person who loves to write about everything in my life right now.  I am blessed and not stressed.  I am an analytical thinker.  I am a critical thinking person.  My own family members and friends underestimate my ability to be a grown man.  I am gifted in a variety of things.  I love learning more than ever before.  If I can stay in school until I die.  This is my privilege.  I need some Job Skills.  I need to change my environment and attitude about life.  Thank you for reading my essay.