#chastise me and resent me for things i cannot control

[clfixationstation]

great, just found out my constant efforts to combat my ADHD are not working and I'm still accidentally hurting the people I care about. I hate it here. I just don't want to hurt people why is that so hard...

I thought I was doing such a good job, I'm constantly trying to make sure I'm responding to people adequately because I've been yelled at so much over it and I really want to make people feel valued and make sure they know I'm giving them my attention. I work so hard to not interrupt others during conversation, I try so hard to maintain attention to conversations, I try so hard to pay attention to my surroundings so that I don't ignore friends, I try so hard to push past rejection sensitivity so that I can help people - but apparently it's all useless

I guess I'd rather know. I'll still keep trying. It just really hurts

[sadtraumatizedlonely]

Chapter 3—Why do I attract Toxic Bosses/Authority Figures?

I’m a serial job jumper. In almost every single workplace I’ve been employed, I have somehow ended up having a professional relationship with and/or working directly for a covert narcissist.

According to Google, narcissists thrive in more “boastful” or important jobs, such as academics, finance, and (you guessed it) law. I have worked in the private law sector for a year, and lamented over the incompetent and narcissistic behaviours that were present in management, but never actually encountered an actual lawyer with this issue.

However, when gaining my employment with out local Legal Aid office, I was shocked to find out that my direct-report lawyer, (a Family law lawyer at that) displayed narcissistic behaviour.  I would not have expected this from a Legal Aid lawyer, hence why my ambition was more geared toward the “helpful” and not “money hungry” sector of my profession. However, this seems not to be the case. 

If someone is a narcissist, it is almost like they release a pheromone to which I become highly triggered, even when something problematic has not really occurred, I get a deep seeded feeling in my gut that something is off. Although it somewhat feels like home to me, it is an intensely troubling sensation. I get feeling of always being looked at and studied, like she is waiting for me to make a mistake. She wants to control everything I do, and if something doesn’t “look right” I do not get the adequate feedback I need in order to fix the problem. Instead, the goal post keeps zigzagging, making her impossible to please.

Lately, there has been a string of problematic behaviours and actions from her, including her blaming me for a mistake that SHE (as the lawyer) has the final obligation to notice and fix if necessary. It is clear that from this incident (which occurred within my first few months of employment) she has harboured a deep seeded resentment towards the work I do, and doesn’t trust me. She takes no responsibility for this, and it is agonizing, as she is ultimately responsible for the work product that leaves our office. 

We had an instance of friction when my other boss (who thinks I do a stellar job and basically brags about my hard work and competence to my other colleagues) took me out for a celebratory lunch with my colleagues to network and to have a good time on a dreary Thursday afternoon. I came back to a passive-aggressive email about how something wasn’t done within a “timely” manner for her (I was planning to complete this task as soon as I returned) and she chastised my willingness to go to lunch when we had this “ultimately important thing that must be done ASAP”.

That urgency was never communicated to me, in fact, the due date for this LETTER (a single letter) was the EOD of the following day. She had known about needing to write this letter for over a week, but decided to only start at the end of the day on Wednesday, a mere two days before it was due. Somehow, that urgency became my problem, and I froze.

What was I supposed to do? My colleague Cee-Cee came over and read the email. Her jaw dropped at the sight of it. Rude, blamey, and unprofessional. I forwarded the email to my manager and walked into her office weeping.

After reporting the incident to my direct reports, a week later she calls me into her office for a chat.

Her:

��What was soo awful about that email I sent?”    

“I would prefer if you keep our issues between us, and not involve other people”

“In my 30 plus years of working for this company, you are the most resistant assistant I have ever encountered. You do not follow instructions, have weak attention to detail, and I cannot approach you/ give you tasks without getting pushback”.  

Gives bull-shitty example of me setting a boundary/ defining my scope of work.

“I get to determine what is and is not a priority, even if it does not make sense for you”

“I own a block of your time, and I get to determine what you do with that time. If I want you to act outside of the scope of your job duties, you must do that”.

“Chatting with your co-workers is problematic when you are supposed to be working, I can hear you from my office”

“Remember, you are on a 12-month contract and you are only 6-months in and still on your probationary period”.

“When I was busy one day, I saw you having lunch and I take great issue with that”.

Me:

“The message wasn’t inherently awful, however the tone was off and hurt my feelings. You can ask for help without using blamey language”

“I’m covering my ass, I need to protect myself”.’

“I’m shocked to hear this, as you have said nothing about this before, can you give me an example of a time I was resistant?”

“I apologise if my tone was off, however, I never said that I wouldn’t do that for you, just that that day it was a waste of my time, as I had other things to do”.

“I work for two other people besides you. I cannot go off site and be a courier when I have other responsibilities to attend to”.

 No response.

“I’m entitled to breaks, and I can chat and work at the same time”.

No response.

“I’m entitled to a lunch break.” I apologise again if my tone was off, and assure her that I am dedicated and can be trusted.

End of conversation.

So, as a trauma survivor, what are my options?

Flight: I should just quit, obviously. I can’t do anything right and I never could. Maybe I was not cut out for this job anyway and I should go back to working in food service jobs.   

Fight: I can’t believe she said those things to me! I should go tell her off. She is treating me like shit and being unreasonable. Who does she think she is treating me this way? We’re on the same team and I’m working my ass off!

Freeze: I should just stay at my desk and do nothing until its time to go home. There’s nothing to criticize if there is no work done.

Fawn: But this behaviour isn’t inherently wrong right? Some people are just picky. I just have to work harder and ask her more questions. She’ll see my value once I prove myself.

To her face, I fawn. Behind her back, I fight and plan for my flight if the fighting does not solve the problem. It is a vicious cycle of not being fully able to stand up for myself and call out her toxic behaviour.

She waived my job security in front of my face, and ultimately, she is in control of 25% of my workflow (I work for her and two other lawyers at my firm) and thus has a portion of control over my reputation.

What is so bad about having a less than stellar reputation?

We’ll, my inner child relies on being “good” for my overall survival. If I’m not “good”, I’m worthless. As a former scapegoated child from narcissistic parents, not being good resulted in the following:

Getting yelled at, belittled, and shamed;

Having my personal property taken away;

Being grounded; and

In my younger years, physical abuse. 

My therapist would advise me to check in with that inner child part, and to reassure it that being “good” is not inherently a part of my survival anymore. That good is subjective, and determined not by your mistakes, but by how you respond to making a mistake.

What’s not good is blaming other people for your mistakes.

What’s not good is shaming people for their mistakes.

What’s not good is lashing out at others when you are stressed or overwhelmed.

What’s not good is belittling the 25-year-old new employee because she refuses to do work that is outside of the scope of her responsibilities, especially when you are over the age of 50. Reminding them that YOU are in control and THEY are just supposed to do as they are told without asking questions. 

So, how do I move forward? 

 It’s so easy (and Fawnish) for me to take the blame in attracting these people. Unfortunately, they just exist everywhere, especially in my field of work. Fawning to their face may be the only option if all else fails. However, taking steps to report this abuse to trusted (and safe) individuals is a good start.

Maybe, if all else fails, this career path wasn’t meant to be. However, only time will tell.  The bottom line is that trauma survivors have the right to a stable career with good pay, without having to be triggered all of the time.    

[ryuumarsart]

My Evil!Pink AU. This is an old headcanon, now AU, from around the time "The Trial" came out. It was mostly me ignoring all the signs that Rose was Pink Diamond and shamelessly making Peridot the main character lol. This is centered around my old belief that Yellow Diamond was the one who shattered Pink...but in self-defense. I predicted (correctly) that Pink suffered abuse from the other Diamonds, being constantly put down and punished for her child-like nature. After a long fight for her own colony and to finally have a chance to prove herself, she does get one. And it goes terribly. She initially wants to give the colony a little more freedom to run itself, wanting to distance herself from the other Diamonds. However, the others don't approve of this method and forced her to double down on her control. This led to a growing sense of discontent channeled by one of her own creations, a Rose Quartz who she trusted and has now turned against her. This rebellion is yet another failure by Pink and one that she cannot fix on her own, leading to Yellow . Yellow does not hide her disappointment of Pink and openly chastises her in front of her own court. Blue meanwhile guilt trips Pink and emotionally manipulates her along the lines of "Why do you do this to us?" and "You wanted this. I should have seen that you weren't ready, but you insisted." Being in the middle of a WAR, Pink encounters a large amount of trauma, such as an instance where a fringe group of the rebellion attempted to assassinate her and she started becoming paranoid, expecting an attack at any time. Pink's resentment of others and cynicism grew, especially that of Yellow. She was increasingly violent on the battlefield, even brutally shattering a large fusion (which definitely reminded her of Yellow), contributing to Garnet's view of Pink as a merciless monster. She eventually comes to the conclusion that she wouldn't have to feel so ashamed, feel so fearful if Yellow wasn't there. If Yellow was shattered by the rebellion, they would finally retreat and the other Diamonds would retaliate against the rebellion rather than blaming her. (Some very flawed reasoning but it fits canon Pink's terrible life choices lol) In a similar way as described in The Trial, Pink leads Yellow away from others and attempts to shatter her, but Yellow easily overpowers her and accidentally shatters her. Pink states that "You didn't even hesitate?" showing how convinced she is that Yellow hates her. Yellow feels intense grief and guilt for this, but doesn't want to taint Blue's memory of the precious, young Pink. She places the blame on Rose, who accepts and runs with this narrative for her cause (who may still be morally grey as she witnessed the ordeal and did nothing to stop it). And White is there I guess?? At the time of this headcanon, I thought White was the fusion of Pink, Blue, and Yellow so she doesn't have a big role. Pink goes to the afterlife, which is a gray wasteland (see above) where gems who have unfinished business in the living world wander with holes where their gems would be. If their unfinished business gets resolved, they disappear, moving on. Meanwhile on Earth, everything goes as normal except Lapis has been training Peridot to use her metal powers. I mean, they're both telekinetic powers so they should work similarly. Plus, Lapidot is my heart and soul so I'll take any excuse for them to be closer (it's canon in this AU). Peridot wants to go on missions with the others, but keeps being swept aside due to her physical weakness and inexperience with her powers. However at some point (maybe after the Rubies and them go to the moon??) a group of Homeworld gems come to either as a Jasper rescue team 2.0 or as retribution for stuff Steven does in space. Garnet decides to bring everyone on board to defend Earth, including Peridot and Lapis. I haven't decided what gems actually show up but maybe some more quartz gems?? Either way, the threat is big enough for the team that Garnet seems visibly concerned. They win the fight, but at a cost. Peridot sacrifices herself in battle and is shattered. Having built a friendship with the entire team, her death absolutely wrecks everyone. Steven desperately tries to heal her, but fails. In her grief, Lapis almost shatters the Homeworld gems, but Steven stops her. She falls into a deep depression and refuses to leave the barn, instead spending her days holding onto Peridot's shards. Amethyst confronts Garnet about how this evaded her future vision and why she would bring Peridot if she would die. Garnet snaps and says "If I didn't bring them, it would have been one of us!" Amethyst becomes furious and yells that Peridot is one of them. She and Pearl give her the cold shoulder and refuse to hear her out. (This is mostly because I feel like Garnet never has a moment where she messes up and everyone is mad at her. She's always right and that made her boring to me) Steven later learns that Garnet saw that if she didn't bring Lapis and Peridot, it was almost impossible to win the fight without someone being shattered. However, if they came, there was more of a chance of losing no one, but their lives would be at risk. She had a hard choice to make, and it didn't work out. There would be a whole arc of everyone confronting their grief and comforting each other. In the end, Garnet is forgiven and Lapis decides to move into the temple, becoming closer to main cast. She literally lets go of Peridot, putting her shards with the other bubbled gems. In the last part of the arc, Steven visits Peridot's bubble and recalls how much of an impact she had and tells her to not worry, everyone will be okay. Also, he opens up about his guilt of not being able to bring her back. However, it seems like there are fewer shards and the pieces have gotten bigger. He attributes this to denial and looking for something that isn't there. Nonetheless, he visits again a few days later and realizes that it wasn't denial, the gem is being put back together. Peridot's gem still has large cracks filled in by his healing tears, but it is pretty much healed. He and the other gems pop her bubble, but something goes wrong when she tries to reform. Chunks of her body are missing, most notably half of her face. She can't walk or move as well as before, but everyone is overjoyed to have her back. She is also missing some memories from the cracks in her gem. Lapis is extremely protective of her and will not let her so much as walk without her there. Amethyst, on the other hand, wants to go back to having fun and going on missions. Peridot forces a compromise where she can go out to the barn and the town, but only with escorts. She tests if her metal powers still work by trying to lift a can. Unbeknownst to her at first, she accidentally lifts most of the barn. Her powers are greatly heightened, but to an almost uncontrollable level. Eventually she convinces the other gems to let her on a mission to the strawberry battlefield to retrieve more weapons or something. Upon arriving, she immediately has a terrible seizure, yelling "Please STOP!!" and "Please! One at a time!". She is brought back into the afterlife, where many gems are clamoring for her attention to resolve their unfinished business. After calming down the crowd, she speaks to a gem who was shattered on the battlefield, but whose shards were never found. Peridot awakens and point the gems to the hidden shards, giving peace to the shattered gem. She soon realizes how much of a curse this connection to the afterlife is as she cannot go into a battlefield without tons of gems asking for peace and overwhelming her, or hold a conversation with Pearl or Garnet without them asking about a past loved one. She even learns that Rose did this once before, but the gem she healed was so miserable that she had to keep it bubbled...yayyy. It becomes much worse when Pink finds her. Peridot had been successfully fighting off the other shattered gems trying to control her, but Pink is too strong for her. Pink is able to possess her, using Peridot's body to finally live again, to the horror of the other gems. Pink introduces herself to Steven and the others and claims that she was wrongly killed. After all, she was only doing what the other diamonds were telling her to do. She had to fight against the rebellion. Even if she ruled over the colony and fought in the war, did that mean she deserved to die? Surely the least Steven could do to right his mother's wrongs would to bring her back to life and finally get the diamonds to leave Earth alone. The other gems of course don't trust her and don't want to bring another diamond into the world; even Peridot objects, feeling like there was a reason that the other gems in the afterlife feared her. Pink senses Steven's hesitation and repeatedly takes over Peridot's body, torturing her day by day while insisting that she is only doing what she must to reunite with her family. Peridot insists that he shouldn't do this for her sake and that she doesn't matter; she definitely says at some point that "Some things are better left dead, Steven!!". This isn't enough though as Steven caves in and meets with the diamonds. Pink possesses Peridot to talk with them, verbally torturing Yellow and insisting that she tell Blue "what she did". Yellow deflects and tries to convince Blue not to bring her back, but unable to persuade her without also revealing the truth. Steven heals Pink, but her gem was even more shattered than Peridot's, causing her form to be more mangled and distorted. Also, her powers are much stronger and she doesn't hesitate to fight Yellow. However, she overestimated her ability and the diamonds escape. Pink regains her old armies (including the Jaspers and Rose Quartzes) and tries to turn the other diamond's gems against them. (This is where things get messy as I haven't completely thought them through) Pink isolates Yellow and surprises her, killing her quickly and "not hesitating, just like you". White and Blue try to reason with her, but to no avail. Pink's armies overwhelm them and they are both shattered. Pink declares herself sole ruler of the gem empire, but is stopped as she feels herself losing control. The other diamonds fight her from the afterlife to take over her body and force her to shatter herself. The war is finally over, but the colonies are left to recover with no leaders and the aftermath of Pink's rule. The crystal gems and the rebels throughout the universe have to work to reform gem society and fix the damage the diamonds have done. Or something like that. tl;dr Pink was traumatized by the gem war and tried to kill Yellow, but Yellow shattered her instead. Pink blackmails Steven from the afterlife into bringing her back to life and letting her get revenge by using Peridot, who was shattered and healed. All the diamonds end up dying and the universe is freed from their tyranny.

[hajimesh]

iii. release

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by anonymous

Hi.you write very well! May ask for single Thomas Sharpe like that x reader, in which Lucille says that the reader and his daughter died,, Thomas mourns but realises that his family lives and that destroying them was Lucille’s plan. Excuse me if long. Thank you very much.

A/N: third and final part folks! had so much fun writing this part, i hope you like it♡ feedback is appreciated as always. *gif not mine*

Part 1   Part 2

Masterlist

Thomas is throwing as many clothes as he can on his trunk. He can’t wait to get out of that house and get away from Lucille.

Guilt fills his soul as he realizes he has failed you as a husband. His wife and daughter were in danger and he didn’t even know. Your weren’t safe, not even in your own house.

Angry at himself, he finishes packing his belongings on the trunk and closes it. His mind is still elsewhere, chastising himself for what happened that he misses the sound of Lucille’s steps entering the room. It’s not until he turns around to leave that he sees her standing in the middle of the room. Her face is stoic and her posture seems stiff although he notices the faint trembling of her hands.

“What do you think you are doing?” Her voice is harsh as she finally addresses him.

Thomas remains silent, his jaw clenching as he tries to control himself. He takes a step forward, eyes not leaving hers in an act of defiance.

“What I should have done years ago, getting away from you.”

The bitterness is clear on his voice and Lucille feels something she hasn’t felt in years, fear. Fear because Thomas wants to leave her side and that only means one thing: he knows.

Her eyes begin to water and Thomas feels sick to his stomach. How dare she? Act as if she is the one suffering.

“Don’t leave me, please.” Tears are now streaming down her face and with a whisper, she begs him to stay.

Thomas clenches his fists, turning his gaze elsewhere not wanting to look at her any longer and Lucille must not have taken it well because a heartbeat later her anguish and pain turned into anger and madness.

With a hiss, she catches his attention again. “I should’ve killed them when I had the chance.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing, all this time his family had been living with the devil and it took him this long to realize?

“You are a monster, Lucille.” She smiles mockingly at him, her eyes filled with a crazed look. “You make me sick.”

Her smile disappears and she’s growling. “If you dare leave my side I promise I will kill you and then I will kill myself.”

Surprisingly, Thomas feels a sense of calmness fill his body. There’s no way she can hurt him more than she already has.

With glazed eyes, Thomas looks to the window on his side as a single tear runs down his cheek. “You killed me the moment you made my family run away from my side in order to protect themselves.” He pauses, releasing a shaky breath. Then, he turns to look at her again and now his eyes are harsher, hurt and resentment swirling in the sea of his blue eyes. “I don’t care what you do with your life, Lucille. I’m done.”

She feels her jaw go slack and her heart stops as she sees him grab his trunk and leave the room. Falling on her knees, she begins to sob, the pain too great for her body to bear with it.

Her thoughts immediately go into haywire, it’s impossible. He cannot leave her. But he doesn’t care about her and it pains her so badly that she can’t help but scream in anguish.

Her dear Thomas taken away from her because of you.

*     *     *     *

Knocking on the familiar door, Thomas waits.

His gaze falls on the floor as his foot unconsciously taps at it. His fingers are wriggling by his sides and he feels the anxiety creeping up on him. He knows you’re not safe here and it’s a matter of time before Lucille shows herself and kills all of you, this time for real.

A loud screech brings him back and makes him look up from the wooden floor and he meets your eyes. All his worries suddenly fade away and his focus is on you. A smile graces his face and you mirror it, happy to see that your husband is back and well.

Ushering him inside, you lock the door again and turn to face him.

“Looks like things went well.”

The softness in your tone makes Thomas’ heart constrict as he is suddenly aware of what just happened back at Allerdale Hall.

You see him hesitate and your gentle smile turns into one of worry.

“Thomas? Cradling his face in your hands, you lift it until his eyes meet yours. “What happened, love?”

He sighs and closes his eyes, relishing on the feeling of your skin on his. Oh how he had missed your closeness.

“She threatened to kill me–” A gasp leaves your mouth and your heart begins to pound harder. You never thought she would go that far. “–and then she said she would kill herself.”

The serenity you once felt by seeing him back suddenly vanishes at his words. You have always known Lucille’s mind was different, wicked. But if she threatened to kill him that meant that she didn’t want to share him with anyone else, she wanted him to herself.

Bile raises to your throat and Thomas, noticing the change of your state, immediately comes to your rescue.

“Sit here, darling.” He guides you to the nearest chair and kneels before you, searching for your eyes. “I’ll go fetch you a glass of water–”

“No.” Grabbing him by the arm, you stop him from leaving your side. “Stay here, with me.”

He obeys, his eyes still trained on yours. “I’m here.”

Caressing your hair, Thomas watches you until he sees the colour return to your skin. Whispering softly, he tries to catch your attention. “My love.”

You hum softly, acknowledging him. He gives you a sad smile as he keeps combing his fingers through your hair.

“We can’t stay in this place, it’s not safe.”

You have to agree with him on that. Your lives are not the only ones at risk, Pauline’s life on the line too and that’s what matters the most. No one messes with your child.

“Then we should start packing.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, Thomas kisses your forehead and stands up. “I’ll do it darling, you need to rest.”

Shaking your head, you turn down his offer. “We will be gone quicker if I help you pack. I just want to get out of here, to get away from her.”

Thomas understands your desperation and doesn’t argue with you. Helping you up, you make your way to your room. Entering, the first thing he sees is his daughter asleep on the bed. A suden pang on his chest reminds him of what he could’ve lost.

Noticing his stare, you pull him by his hand making him look at you.

“If we want her to be safe we must hurry.”

Casting another glance at Pauline, he’s filled with determination. She looks so peaceful, undisturbed as she sleeps. He had failed her once and he will not fail her again.

Both of you begin to place your belongings on boxes and a couple of trunks you have. Half an hour later you’re done and as you peek at the window you see the sun has begun to set.

Thomas brings your belongings to the carriage he brought from the house and places them on it. Once everything is settled he comes back inside. He sees you holding your daughter on your arms, gently rocking her back and forth. He approaches you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s time.”

Nodding at him, you walk out of the door not bothering to look back. Placing Pauline on your lap, you sit on the carriage and Thomas sits beside you. You look at him, fear and uncertainty in your gaze and he grabs your hand.

“Don’t fret, my love.” Kissing your forehead, he tries to calm you down. “I assure you, I’ll protect the both of you.”

You place a soft kiss on his lips and smile gratefully at him. “I love you Thomas, you have no idea how happy it makes me to have you back with us.”

He can’t help the smile from spreading across his lips and he pecks you on the lips again.

“And I love you, my wife.”

Giving the reins a pull, the carriage moves forward, dragging you and your family to a new start.

*     *     *     *

Opening his eyes, Thomas feels himself go blind as the bright sunlight glows all over his face. Feeling a presence beside him, he pats his hand on the bed searching for your hand and once he feels it relief washes over him.

You’re still here.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he kisses it softly. “Good morning, darling.”

He feels the bed dip and then your hand is caressing his face.

“Morning, Thomas.”

His heart stops and he forces his eyes open. It cannot be.

Sitting on the bed, he turns quickly towards the sound of the voice and his fear comes true. Lucille is staring at him, a wicked smile on her lips. His heart is pounding and he looks around, noticing the details of the room, his room.

“Get away from me!” He launches away from her while frantically looking at his surroundings. “What am I doing here!? Where is my family!?”

Lucille purses her lips and stands up from the bed. “They are dead.” Stepping closer to him she gives him a fake worried look. “We buried them a few days ago, don’t you remember?”

Thomas feels as if the air has been knocked out from him. “No… no, no, it’s impossible. They are alive!”

She pouts and gives him a look full of pity. “Oh poor Thomas. You must’ve been dreaming, my dear.”

The crazed look returns to her face as an evil smile forms on her lips.

“For you have been here all this time.”

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help me with a comment or reblog if u enjoyed it :)

[tenjouu]

revolvere (3/?)

facetious plot summary: Lancelot loses his magic upon traveling back in time to the day of Alice the Second’s arrival. How will he save the world equipped with only his winning looks and charisma? Read on to find out!

Featured in this chapter: an unusual matchup—Lancelot vs Fenrir! 

1  |  2  |  3 : fenrir goodpace

Harr confronts him, but more importantly—before that, Alice comes as the giver of good news.

“King Lancelot!” she exclaims. She saw him before he even saw her, and comes hurrying down the hallway. She’s doing a fantastic job of making this look like a one-sided Beauty and the Beast spinoff, but Lancelot can’t fault her for it; he’s quite content to see her too.

“Don’t run in the hallways,” Lancelot chastises. “It’s dangerous.”

“Yes, my king,” she obliges (sounding put-out) as she skids to a halt, and then she perks up. “Oh, King Lancelot, you shouldn’t have.”

Alice reaches out to take the tray of madeleines and eclairs from him, but Lancelot raises them out of reach. She lowers her arms, looking confused.

“I can do this much. Why not open the door instead?” he says. People always treat kings like they can’t do anything for themselves. And besides, if he lets her take the tray now, he won’t be able to eat a single one.

Alice holds open the door, and Lancelot enters first with a hum of gratitude. When she closes the door behind her, he doesn’t even have time to turn around before she takes off.

“Sirius is so happy,” she gushes. “And I think Ray’s glad that the two armies won’t actually be going to war. They’re the only two who know right now, but when will it be okay to bring more people into the fold?”

“Hello to you too, Alice,” Lancelot says wryly, taking a seat at his desk, folding his hands under his chin. He gives her a pointed look. “I’m doing fine. I missed you as well.”

Her cheeks flush red. “I get it, I get it,” she says, sidling over. “Sorry, King Lancelot. Are you well?”

He smiles. “Good,” he says, and if she dared to, she probably would’ve rolled her eyes. “Now, your message from Sirius and Blackwell?”

“Sirius said that he told Harr Silver what was going on,” she reports. “And Ray says that he wants to meet at the Civic Center as a show of confidence, and to touch base with you. And he says that it’s not a good idea to keep secrets from one’s officers, and that he’s going to tell them eventually.”

“I plan to do the same. Things are coming along nicely,” he muses. “Amon will try to contact me likely tomorrow or the day after about pacing his plans. I’ll let everyone know how to proceed after then.”

Alice hums around a mouthful of pastry when Lancelot finally sweeps his gaze back over to her. She pauses in chewing when they make direct eye contact.

“Would you like some tea with that?” he asks.

She swallows guiltily, mistaking his sincerity for reproach. “Sorry—the desserts here are really good... Please continue, King Lancelot.”

“No, I was being serious,” he says. “I’m not angry—I realized that I forgot the tea.” He pauses. “And I thought of this just now, but did you not come with a guard today?”

“Oh, Fenrir came with me again today,” she explains, “but I think he’s with Zero right now.”

He knows that Zero is meticulous and disciplined. Lancelot has complete faith in him. But that’s such a stark contrast from the first time Alice came over, where he stayed sentinel by Lancelot’s office’s door until it was time for her to leave. He points this out curiously.

Alice shifts a little under his scrutiny. “I may have...given them the...impression that you’ve been nothing but a respectful gentleman to me. Fenrir has his doubts, but he respects that I trust you.”

“Alice,” Lancelot sighs.

“It’s true!” she protests. “You’re very nice to me, King Lancelot.”

Who in their right mind would be mean? Lancelot doesn’t say. He places his hand in his chin and contemplates her. “You’re very chipper and enthusiastic about this whole thing. Though I appreciate and trust your easy cooperation, I’m curious why.”

Alice leans close and whispers conspiratorially, “I know lives are at stake, but it’s kind of exciting. And I’m just glad to help. I want to do anything I can.”

Lancelot doesn’t want to be Alice’s reason for developing a danger-loving streak. Edgar from his world would have come close to treason if he found out Lancelot had. So Lancelot simply accepts her reason for what it is and hopes to dear god that Harr will keep her away from all of the fighting, when Harr finally decides to come out of hiding.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Come in,” Lancelot calls. Just as well, he’ll ask the person to send for tea.

It’s Edgar, speak of the devil. Lancelot thinks that the universe never aligns stars in his favor. Edgar smiles as he enters.

“My king, just to confirm,” Edgar says. “Did your majesty invite the Black Ace to spar with our own?”

They’re what? How did Zero end up indulging Godspeed?

“No,” Lancelot says. He cannot be arsed to deal with it. He’s spending time with Alice right now, damn it! The Black Army gets to have her damn near 24/7; he’ll be damned if goddamn Fenrir Godspeed cuts his meager allotment in half.

Then he pauses, looking between Alice and Edgar. Alice stares back inquisitively. Edgar’s smile is impenetrable. Well, the best plans are flexible, after all. He trusts Alice to hold her own against Edgar.

“Edgar, accompany our guest on a tour around headquarters,” Lancelot declares. “I will go handle this myself.”

“My lord?” Edgar asks, still smiling. This is his version of bafflement.

“She’s easily bribed with sweets,” Lancelot supplies helpfully as he passes Edgar on his way to the door, and whooshes out the room with his cape.

/

It seems that Godspeed wasn’t actually the only one who instigated this, because Zero is tending to an unconscious man as the Ace of Spades holds his own against other soldiers.

The brawling style of Sirius never fails to impress. It’s clear he’s taught his men well. But Godspeed fights with a technique that is unmistakably his own. Wild, swift punches that shatter an enemy’s guard rather than get around, nimble sidesteps that keep him on the enemy’s non-dominant side. Lancelot gets the feeling that the man’s ambidextrous, because he watches him face off two of his soldiers and come out victorious.

“Why are you fighting my men?” Lancelot intones, finally stepping forward.

Godspeed turns to him, fists up and ready.

“Jealous?” Godspeed prompts cockily. “I’ll fight you too, Red King.”

“Interesting,” Lancelot replies. “But I must decline. I’m here to cut this short. I’m to be spending time with Alice right now, after all.”

“Then why aren’t you with her?” the man retorts. He relaxes his lean, muscled form. “If you’re afraid to bite...”

“Did you defeat Zero?” Lancelot asks.

Godspeed shrugs. “Your men have bad defense because your army relies on crystals,” he shoots back. “At least your Ace put up a good fight, but I’ve been fighting with these hands before I even picked up a sword.”

“You fight with guns. You don’t even use a sword.”

“Before I even picked up a gun,” Godspeed amends. “Anyway, it came close to a tie. You’ve got good men.” He shrugs. “But it seems like the Black Army just might be stronger in an honest fight, fist-to-fist.” He opens an eye and arches a brow at Lancelot. “Since we don’t rely on magic.”

Lancelot may be at the point in his life where he’d let a few things go because he’s got a limited supply of fucks to give, but he still has his pride as a king and warrior. Godspeed is an amateur at trash talk; instead, he brings genuinely good criticism, but one thing he’s got wrong is the magic. Lancelot doesn’t mind teaching him a lesson. If he loses to this upstart, he’ll abdicate the throne and retire straight to the graveyard, effectively immediately.

“You seem strong,” Lancelot says, shedding his cape, and then coat.

Godspeed’s amber eyes light up impossibly bright, almost feral as he grins. “No magic, Red King. No unfair advantages.”

“No magic,” Lancelot agrees.

Fenrir Godspeed puts up his fists and charges in.

Lancelot, even though he’s taller and less fluid in his movements, makes up for agility with unyielding defense. Godspeed keeps his battle calm, refusing to let frustration get the best of him. Some hits land where they would hurt, but Lancelot has fought Sirius a few times, and these blows are like taps in comparison.

“You’re not bad,” Godspeed grunts. “Rusty, but solid.”

Lancelot doesn’t answer. The man is the type to talk during a fight, it seems. He breaks past Lancelot’s guard with a well-aimed jab and lands a blow across his jaw—before Lancelot can even blink, he pivots back, like an acrobat. He raises his leg and sends Lancelot back with a sharp kick to the chest. Lancelot emits a sound of pain.

“Seems like I’ve got you beat in agility, old man,” Godspeed crows on his follow-through with another uppercut, thinking he’s sure to win with this last move.

“You might,” Lancelot agrees, letting gravity pull him down. He folds into himself, ducking from the swing, catching himself on his hands.

He lifts his lower half and uses his legs to sweep Godspeed’s feet from under him. A loud squawk follows as his back hits the grass. Lancelot keeps his legs constricted around his own. Godspeed’s tiny frame can’t win against Lancelot’s brute strength.

“But I’m not stiff,” Lancelot says, twisting his body up, and presses his arm against Godspeed’s neck. “Your loss.”

Godspeed’s furious glare tempers itself to a good-natured resentment. The fight fades from his eyes, and he sighs, letting his head fall against the ground. His eyes close, and the wind ruffles their hair as their breathing comes under control.

The battle was over in five minutes, but Godspeed had been fighting before Lancelot joined the fray, after all. He doubts that a fresh Ace of Spades would lose so quickly.

And he’s still young, after all. He’ll take this loss gamely and get over it. He’s a century too early trying to pick a fight with a king.

Speaking of age—

When Lancelot unentangles their limbs and pulls Godspeed up, he arches an authoritative brow.

“Old man?” he repeats.

To his surprise, Godspeed looks abashed. “Oh...did I say that? Sorry,” he says awkwardly, face scrunched up. “It slipped out. Whenever Sir—the queen—agrees to spar...uh, he’s—um—easy to rile up...” He grimaces. “I realize that was out of line, King of Hearts.”

Lancelot snorts. Godspeed gives him an incredulous double take.

“I’m younger than Sirius is, so I’m quite secure in my vigor,” Lancelot replies. “This ‘old man’ just beat you, after all.”

Godspeed makes a sour face but ducks his head, accepting his loss.

“Infirmary, I think. For my men, and for me,” says Lancelot. “I don’t particularly care for bruising on my face.”

Something must have changed between before the fight and after, because Godspeed grumbles, “Sorry,” under his breath as Lancelot turns to Zero.

“Don’t be,” Lancelot says simply. “Don’t do things that you don’t mean.”

[rothorns]

Date: February 27th Time: 2:17 am Location: Pandora’s Apartment Status: Closed for @pandora-phan

How foolish he had been to believe himself worthy of the throne.   

How foolish he’d been to believe himself capable of challenging his father. Damiano Montague—  a man whose name alone is enough to strike fear into the heart of Verona, a mixture of absolute terror and reverence. But Verona did not know the Damiano he knew. Verona did not know him as her papà. They did not know what it felt like to have the goodness wrung from you until you can no longer breathe. They did not know what it felt like to be destroyed and rebuilt over and over, failing each and every time in the eyes of his father, and thus the cycle continued. He would never be good enough. Verona did not understand what it felt like to be chastised for having loved. Today— today was the day he’d selected to speak to his father. He’d begun with one drink to settle his nerves, but one led to two, and two led him to an empty bottle. But the nerves still remained. He was succumbing to his own doubt and insecurity, a byproduct of his father’s teachings that Damiano hadn’t anticipated. He was being suffocated with his own emotions. Roman could not go on like this. But out of fear of appearing weak— he isolated himself. Even in his drunken haze, he did not pick up the phone to call Marcelo, as emotions were seldom shared between the two (the times that they did were only the direst of situations), Bellamy and Lawrence— where exactly had the two of them been? Henry had enough on his own plate, and Dess— his lips coiled into a frown— didn't seem like she wanted to speak with him, and rightfully so. Pandora— they hadn't ever discussed something like this and surely not while Roman was in the condition that he was. But he knew, that if there was anyone who was capable of understanding his hesitation and be able to relate to it, then that person would be her. They were cut from similar cloths, after all, both a product of their parents' own desires, preparing them to take on Atlas' burden from the moment of their conception. He was always made to believe they were two drastically different people— yet both of their actions (or lack thereof, as their families did not typically afford such autonomy) had led them to this eerily similar path. And thus, it would be Pandora's apartment he would direct the taxi too, and her doorstep he would drunkenly stumble onto, wearing his self-loathing and vulnerability on his sleeve where his heart had once been. Roman hadn't wanted to knock— in fear of disturbing her and Mozerella at such an indecent hour, so he'd waited patiently upon texting Pandora. Who's to say she would even want him there? But his disoriented contemplation was interrupted by the sound of a door unlocking. A supreme comfort washed over him as he studied Pandora, more than he had ever anticipated. All the nerves and inhibitions were stripped away, but his vulnerability remained. With flushed cheeks, he stumbled into her apartment, emotions spiraling within him. “This... is me,” he began with outstretched arms. “This is me in my entirety. Never the soldier I was preordained to be. But a soft boy—” he says softly as if it were some sort of illness or disease. “—who would become a shell of a man. He tried every option imaginable to pry the softness from within me. But it was never extracted in its entirety. It has always been with me. Repressed, perhaps, but always there. Even after everything, all my mother has to say is that he does it out of love.” His voice is unsteady as recounts his mother's response. “My mother always wanted me to be good, you know? Whatever that was supposed to mean. Maybe not good per se, but she wanted me to be my most authentic self. The lover. The poet. The scholar.” He recounted the days in which he decided he would run away in order to attend college. “I almost left Verona in order to go to the U.S., you know. I applied for Berkeley, a school in California. I was gonna major in English and minor in Creative Writing. I would only visit Verona occasionally. Then, I would pursue a Ph.D. in graduate school and become a professor. Maybe write poetry on the side. Everyone would find it odd that I asked to be referred to as my first name instead of ‘Dr. Montague’ But only I would know that I couldn't be called that because it would be too reminiscent of my father.” The more memories Roman recounted, the more crestfallen he became. “My father discovered what I was planning— still to this day I cannot figure out who told— and that was that. I never spoke of college again.” He hadn't the coordination to find the couch, so instead, he collapsed slowly onto her floor, welcoming Mozerella into his aching arms. “My dreams were never enough. They were never as ambitious as an heir’s should've been. They were too ordinary— and that made them unattainable. I did my best to stay true to myself in bits in pieces; I told myself that if I were to rule the mob, then I would do so with someone that I loved by my side, just as my father had done all those years ago. But the next thing I knew, I was given word of a woman named Pandora Phan and told that we were arranged to be married. The one request I had made of my father— violated. Ignored. I should've known better.” His face contorted guiltily. “I hated you for it. They were misdirected emotions, but at that moment, I was not sure where to place my blame. That’s how tightly of a grasp my father had on me— that I blamed others and myself for his actions. So I aimed them at you. The perfect, beautiful, soldier. Someone who remained in constant control. You were everything I wasn't, everything my father wanted me to be. And I despised you for it. He needed me to be more like you. That's precisely why he arranged the marriage. I'm sure he thought you would rub off on me at one point. And so I refused to give you a chance, and I continued to keep you at arm's length. You seemed so cold to me, nothing intentional on your part, but I feared that that was what I would become. Cold. Unable to express my emotions, not by my own doing, but because others had attempted to force them out of me for so long. I was plotting ways to find a way out of our engagement. There had to have been a way— I had been sure of it.” Roman’s eyes glossed over Pandora, smiling wistfully. “I remember the exact moment I decided to give you a chance. The moment I realized how unfair I was being toward you. The moment that I realized you were not so different from me after all. I remember the moment I realized what our minds are capable of when we put them together. I remember the moment I began seeing you as a friend. After that, the future didn't seem so bleak as I initially thought it would be. I saw potential in us. The potential to become something great. Even if I was unable to marry for love, at least I could share the throne with a woman I adored.” “—it would be easier that way, as I had decided. To my own knowledge of the concept, love seems to complicate things. It makes people do stupid things. Last time I believed myself to be in love, I discovered that my secrets were being sold to the Capulets.” He chuckled— as he no longer had the energy to resent Rafaella for what she'd done. “But for me to wholly buy into that plan, that would mean me eliminating the possibility of ever falling for you.” This was surely not what he'd come here to tell her— why could he not control his lips so? “And I don't think I can do that. I can't promise that. Because when I'm with you—” he finds her eyes brazenly. He needed her to know that he meant every word he said. “I look at the world differently. The flowers are more pigmented. The birds' songs sound a little brighter. I'm able to imagine a thousand different worlds and possibilities. With you, Pandora, I feel invincible. What good is the doubt of thousands when I have you to believe in me? Their doubt is nothing in comparison to your faith. The faith of a woman capable of anything. But my father—” 

Roman shudders, a once touching moment once again tainted by the remembrance of his father. “—I feel like nothing in his presence. How do I continue to allow him to have such control over me time and time again? My 27th birthday is coming up... and what do I have to show for it?” He looks at Pandora, this time, with dampened eyes. “I want him to know how wrong he was for underestimating. That my own softness will not be my downfall. That I am capable— and that even Pandora believes in me. In us. Maybe then he might see it. But when has anything ever been so simple?” The familiar tightness around his throat has returned. “But the same thing I claim doesn't make me weak, stops me from even speaking at times. Everything just builds up, I get so choked up that—” he stifles back a sob. “I cannot be weak, Pandora. I don't get to mope and cry over my father not believing in me. I get to curse the ground he walks on. I get to demand my right to the throne.  But above all else, I cannot be weak. I won't allow him that satisfaction.” 

He hadn't considered Pandora's feelings about all this, with him being on her floor in the brink of tears, and he turned to her apologetically, for his own lack of self-awareness. “I'm sorry. All of this is a lot. I'm a lot. I'm sure this wasn't a part of the contract our parents wrote up for us. Like, 'just so you know, my son is a lot.'” He laughed softly, but soon realizing the tastelessness of his own joke. 

“You know I don't really think of you that way, right Pandora? I don't think of what we have as an arrangement or even contractual. I think of us as two people brought together in circumstances beyond our control. Two people who bring out the best in each other. In such a short time, you've brought me comfort in ways I'm still myself trying to understand. To look at your face and be washed in a feeling of absolute tranquility...” 

He trailed off sleepily, eyes blurred by his own tears, thankful that he still possessed enough sight to make out her exquisite features. "You don't even know how lucky you are, Mozzy. You get to be with her every day. You see her when she's her most authentic self. The person she's able to be without the scrutiny of Verona. I do too, sometimes. They'd be so jealous of us— if only the had any idea of what they were missing out on.” 

[foxydivaxx]

Bad Apple Chapter 2

 “Why did you bother to save me?”

Amon simply smiles at the girl as they float through the air. “Because I realized you and I are the same. We both went through hell and made mistakes and are being judged heavily for said mistakes.”

She stares at him in awe. This same boy that she chastised and bashed earlier for mistakenly murdering someone is now on her side for doing something similar even though she did it in the past when she was much younger. 

“T-Thanks..”

Dick huffs as he walks up the stairs. He had not spoken to Babs in months ever since she found out about his past one night stand with Cassie and also his past relationship with Helena Bertinelli. 

At first, he was saddened by it but as time went on, resentment began to grow within him as he began to realize that Jason was right. Babs was taking things out of context. Besides, why judge him on his past relationships when she has dated a couple guys as well?

Need to settle this once and for all.

He stops at the door and knocks on it. He does not hear a response.

He knocks the second time still no response.

He knocks a third time. Yet still no response.

He raises an eyebrow. Making things sketchier is the fact that Babs did not respond at all. Usually if he knocks, she would at least say something or he would hear some shuffling in the background. But there was so sound. 

Did she head out? He places a hand on the door knob and turns it and is shocked to find it open. He walks in and discovers clothes all over the place and recognises some menswear nearby.

Suspicious, he heads into the room and finds the door slightly open and his jaw drops as he discovers Babs in bed with another man. It all began to make sense to him. Babs never loved or cared for him because if she did, she would not cheat on him like that. She would not be treating him like that and abuse him for months. 

Once he gets over his shock, he bursts into the room, pulls the guy off Babs and punches him hard in the face. “Dick !! Dick!! Stop!!” Barbara yells. Dick growls and pushes her down onto the bed. “SO THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN DOING WHILST I WAS AWAY HUH?! SO YOU’VE BEEN CREPEING BEHIND MY BACK YET YOU HAVE THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO CHASTISE ME FOR HAVING FEMALE FRIENDS?! OR EVEN HAVE PAST ROMATIC RELATIONSHIPS? YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ISOLATE ME FROM EVERYONE I LOVE?!!”

Barbara has a fake sad look on her face. “Please...I..I can explain..” It was then that she does something very unexpected, something many warned Dick  about and that was to stand upright as opposed to being an actual cripple.

Dick just explodes right there and lets her have it. “EXPLAIN WHAT?! EXPLAIN YOUR LIES ABOUT THE OTHER GIRLS ESPECIALLY KORI AND CASSIE?!! LISTEN HERE AND LISTEN GOOD!! I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU AND YOUR BULLSHIT!! YOU NEVER FUCKING CARED OR LOVED ME!! AS I CAN CLEARLY SEE, YOU GOT YOUR LEGS FIXED, YET YOU FUCKING PRETENDED TO BE CRIPPLED TO GAIN CHEAP SYMPATHY AND TRAP ME HUH?!”

He then smirks. “Well guess what? Your evil ends here Babs. It’s over.” With that, he walks out leaving a stunned Barbara behind.

Meanwhile, Adrianna and Adam wait outside for Amon to arrive. They saw the news about Cassie and were just as worried about the girl’s sanity. Sure she did some questionable things but who else hasn’t? 

“I expected a lot from Diana not this.” says Adrianna. Adam sighed. “Communication is key in every single relationship. If one fails to communicate, it naturally leads to unnecessary drama. I have been watching the Team and I have been noticing the hypocrisy that they and the Justice League have been encouraging. Case in point, Rose Wilson. We are meant to trust her. I get that Cassie can be very fiesty and hotblooded but Rose herself has said some nasty things. Yet people excuse her.” says Adam.

Before Adrianna could say anything more, a gush of wind announces Osiris’ arrival as he lands in front of them with Cassie in his arms. “Cassie!!” says Adrianna as she rushes over to the girl and pulls her into a hug. Cassie at first is takena aback by this but soon settles into her embrace and hugs the woman back.

“You ok Cassandra?” Adam asked. The girl looked down. “No. Besides I have no powers whatsoever but it’s ok.“

Adam then turns to Amon. “You should have shared your powers with her.” he says. Amon panics. “I do not want to endanger her.”

Adrianna interrupts them. “Now is not the time to discuss this. Let Cassie heal first before we do that.” she says. Cassie was internally grateful for Adrianna for that as they head into the Palace.

There was a feast laid out for her. Realizing how hungry she was, she begins to eat like a lion. The Adam family chuckles with amusement. “It seems all those strong emotions hungered her.”

“It sure did.” Cassie says between mouthfuls. Once she is done, they lead up to one of the guestrooms where she would be staying.

The following morning, Cassie wakes up and at first panics when she realizes that she does not have extra clothing until she spots what looks like a couple of her clothes. 

Did Tatiana send these somehow?

Before she could ponder some more, Tatiana pops in the room. “Hi twinnie!!” Cassie jumps out of her bed and rushes towards her sister and scoops her itno a big hug. 

“You idiot!! How could you be so selfish?!” Tatiana chastises her. Cassie sighs. “My bad my bad!!‘ They both laughed. 

“Good to see you twins are here.” says Adrianna as she pops her head through the door. “Hey sis, go take a shower. I am thinking that some sight seeing here would do us some good.‘ says Tatiana. Cassie nods. “Ok gimme a minute.“

A couple miles away back in the US, everyone had gotten wind of the Dickbabs breakup. “About time tbh. Babs is a bad influence.” says Raven. “Babs started out nice then she just went bonkers.” says Zatanna.

“Thought it was her PTSD acting up but after what Dick told us about her deceit, I am starting to think otherwise.” says Rocket. “How long has she been acting that way?” Kori asked. “Even I don’t know.” says Helena as she sips some coffee.

All of Dick’s exes plus the other girls on the Team minus Cassie were all seated at Rocket’s house discussing the latest gossip. “Does that girl even have any friends?’ Donna asked.

“Not on this Team or the Superhero community that’s for sure.” says Artemis.”Didn’t realize she was that nasty till Dick told us everything she did to him, more or less confirming everything Cassie said about her.” says M’Gann. “Meaning that Babs manipulated and caused most of the drama with her gossip just so she could keep Dick all to herself.” says Stephanie.

“Disgusting. Totally disgusting.“ says Helena. “But Dick is not trophy. He is his own person and deserves a lot of love and respect. Just like Cassie.“ says Kori. They all nodded. “Well she is in Kahndaq right now and I bet Amon will treat her right. Better than both Conner and Tim ever did.“ says Artemis. 

“Considering the fact that he stopped her from killing herself, makes perfect sense.“ says  M’Gann. Donna smiles. “I am glad that he saved her. That alone proves that he is not half as bad as people made him out to be. He made a little mistake and has been trying to control himself.“ she says. “Besides we have all lost control of our emotions now that I think about it.“ says Kara, getting a harsh reminder of that time she served as a Red Lantern.

Vanessa hadn’t said anything because her guilt was eating her up inside. “W-Why did I allow Babs to get to me? I have destroyed Cassie’s life.” Donna pats her shoulder. “You have to apologise to Cassie but not now. She needs to calm down.” Vanessa nods.

Tim was in his lab, going through some files he managed to recover from Barabara’s system. The more he looks through things, the more disgusted he gets with Barbara. He looked up to this girl yet he allowed her to stir shit up, to manipulate him into hating both Cassie and Amon.

She had broken security protocol by hacking into toher people’s personal laptops and whatnot and uncovering all sorts of private personal information to use as blackmail. Thank goodness Amon saved Cassie from committing suicide otherwise, he would have laid the smackdown on Babs.

And to think that she lied about her paralysis.

He even found evidence to prove that Babs actually secretly did some surgery without anyone’s knowledge. He is sure that Babs would become Batgirl once again and if she ever does, the entire Batclan will come from her in droves. 

Bruce slams his fists onto the table in anger. He cannot believe he allowed Barbara to play all of them like this. He is supposed to be the world’s greatest detective yet he got outsmarted by a devious person like Barbara. 

The fact that she used to be Batgirl does not help matters either. He bets that now that Dick has cut her off, she would become Batgirl. He has already told the rest of the Bat clan to be on the lookout for Barbara and also re-welcomed those he had exiled from the family like Helena and Jason back into the fold.

“It just like the saying goes, the worst pain comes from the family.” says Alfred as he comes down into the Cave holding a tray of hot chocolate with Damian right behind him.

“Is it true what I heard about Gordon?” Damian asked. Bruce does not say anything but simply nods. “That evil tramp. She better go hide because if I find her, I shall tear her to shreds!!” says Damian.

“Language Master Damian!!” Alfred chastises her.

Speaking of Barbara, she decided to leave Gotham for a while so that the uproar would die down. She had done some really terrible things indeed and it is best she leaves and then comes back. 

Commissioner Gordon was already informed and he has basically disowned his daughter because as far as he was concerned, he never raised his daughter to be like this meaning that she was no different from her psychotic brother James Gordon Jr.

My God what have I done?

Still it was too late, the damage has been done. No one would ever forgive her. She almost ruined a young girl’s life with her actions afterall, it was she that told Vanessa and manipulated her into exposing Cassie’s big secret. Anyway, she is leaving town but not for good. 

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

A Look Back on the Twilight Saga

I have never felt older than I have this year, in which the film adaptation of the first book in the Twilight Saga turns ten. Ten years ago, that movie came out, three years after the book. And what a book and movie they were! They inspired so much rabid devotion and equally rabid pushback, with people gushing over the beautiful romance in equal amounts as people saying how the books were offensively awful and filled with misogyny and romanticization of abusive relationships. Golly, I sure am glad discussion of fiction has improved since then and we don’t have dumb arguments like that anymore!

All joking aside, it is pretty interesting to look back on the series. With the passage of time, and the release of so much young adult fiction in cinemas between then and now, I have to say that looking back… Twilight is a pretty good film and, for the most part, a pretty good series.

Now, such a bold statement could never have been made in that period during the heyday of the series, where the popularity of the series was slowly souring and people began openly rejecting the series as trash. But I feel that rejection was just part of an obnoxious cycle I’ve seen a lot in recent years, where anything remotely popular with audiences (such as Frozen) becomes hated at the peak of its popularity, seemingly because of the sole fact that it is popular and not really due to anything having to do with the actual overall quality.

See, here’s the thing: despite the series having a reputation for being poorly written tripe, it really is a lot better than anyone gives it credit for. Now, I’m not going to say the writing is on par with other young adult fantasy series of the time, like Harry Potter or Percy Jackson, because that is just patently untrue. What the Twilight Saga was, and what it always seemed to aim for, was the level of quality of a tacky airport romance novel you pick up while waiting for your flight to kill time. It’s nothing but wish-fulfillment fantasy in which an unhappy young woman becomes the reason for living for several unfathomably hot supernatural men, a sentiment that quite frankly resonates with the modern atmosphere towards supernatural romance and the prominence of self-proclaimed “Monsterfuckers.” Bella’s situation is pretty much a dream come true, is it not? Among tacky supernatural romance novels, Twilight and its sequels are easily the queens of the genre.

Here’s the thing that really sets the Twilight Saga apart, though: there is actually a serious amount of thought and care put into nearly all aspects of the romance’s universe save for the actual romance. Every single member of the Cullen family has a fascinating backstory: Carlisle was a vampire hunter turned vampire who proceeded to venture across the world in the ensuing hundreds of years building up a family and practicing a different way of living; Alice was committed to an asylum and has a past shrouded in mystery; Jasper was a soldier in the Confederate army who was turned into a vampire and tasked with raising a vampire army; Rosalie’s backstory is Kill Bill, BUT WITH VAMPIRES!; and Emmet, while easily the least impressive of them all, still died apparently fighting a bear, and considering how he is one can only imagine what on earth he was doing. Esme is the only Cullen without a deeply fascinating backstory, but even what little we do get is a bit tragic: she lost her child and so committed suicide, or attempted it anyway. There’s absolutely no need for all of these rich, complex backstories for characters in a throwaway romance novel, and yet here they are. And that’s not all.

The rest of the world and overall vampire society is presented in a very interesting way. The Volturi in particular are a fascinating idea, a secret cabal of vampires who rule over all other vampires with an iron fist, but one that is, while a bit tyrannical and unforgiving, seemingly necessary to preserve the existence of vampire society. Hell, their rules don’t really seem TOO harsh, and they only really spring to action when there are vampires fragrantly and blatantly exposing themselves to human society. They wish to keep the vampire world hidden in the shadows, where they can feed in peace away from prying eyes. Their position is understandable in a lot of ways. They also have a very interesting history to them, having apparently wrestled power over vampirekind away from a sect of Romanian vampires. Now, I did say they are a fascinating IDEA; in execution, they always tended to be a bit… useless. Their appearances in New Moon and Breaking Dawn are ultimately wastes of time, as they are never really opposed in any sort of meaningful way and get away in the end with the status quo wholly unchanged. No impact is ever made on vampirekind when they’re involved, which almost makes me wish that they were kept in the shadows and used far more sparingly. Their influence over events in Eclipse, where they only send out their powerful agents, showcases that Stephanie Meyers could use them very effectively when she wanted to.

The werewolves are a bit less effective. While they do have an intriguing backstory, there is something a bit… problematic about shoehorning a bunch of fictional elements onto the real Quileute tribe. On the other hand though, a positive and heroic portrayal of Native Americans in fiction is never a bad thing, and Jacob Black is easily one of the more sympathetic characters until halfway through Breaking Dawn. It’s a very tricky, mixed bag. I kind of wish that the issue with the handling of Native American folklore was the biggest controversy with the series, but there’s actually one far worse and even stupider.

The Twilight Saga has come under fire for being a negative influence on young women, for romanticizing abusive relationships and stalking, and for being some sort of massive insult to feminism. Now, these arguments aren’t wholly without merit, but the issue is that they are being filtered through human understanding and imposed on fictional creatures in a fictional universe. If a real-life human acted as clingy, impulsive, over-protective, and obsessed as Edward is towards Bella, yes, it would be absolutely terrifying. Here’s where I let you in on a little secret, though: Edward Cullen is, in fact, not a human. He is part of a race of ageless semi-undead beings who live off of blood and glitter in the sunlight. He immediately sees his soulmate in Bella and goes out of his way to ensure they end up together, acting on the instincts granted to members of his kind. Trying to fit all of his actions into a human narrative is as fruitless as if an ant tried to explain humanity to his colleagues filtered through his ant experiences. The fact is, Edward operates on a far different moral code than humans. This is not uncommon for vampires in any fiction; Marceline of Adventure Time fame is a vampire who is certainly not above doing some rather sketchy stuff, for example. While Edward’s actions can come off as bizarre and creepy to humans, for a vampire, Edward is actually downright romantic and even benevolent. One also needs to take into account that Edward is a kissless virgin who has spent a hundred years doing nothing but reading romance novels and listening to classical music, which would go a long way to explain his awkward and sometimes offputting ways of trying to replicate human courtship rituals with Bella.

The criticisms leveled at Bella are rather unfair as well; while she often finds herself a damsel in distress, it rarely is something she doesn’t want. When Bella is in danger, it’s because she wanted to be there and put herself there. Yes, she does get into trouble, but that’s mostly due to her being a stupid horny teenage girl with zero impulse control. Recall New Moon, where she constantly did dangerous stunts so she could have hallucinations of Edward chastise her. Bella is, quite frankly, an adrenaline junkie, and I feel she’d rather resent being called a damsel. Even the times when she is in danger, it is no real fault of her own, but rather the fact she is a normal human out of her depth in a supernatural world. Bella is not Blade, she is not Van Helsing, she is not Alucard; she is Bella Swan, normal teenage girl, and she tends to be as effective as your average teenage girl in situations where superpowered monsters are hunting her. Imagine if we applied these sorts of criticisms to other characters in fiction… “John Conner in Terminator 2 is such a worthless damsel in distress character, why does he not just fight off the T-1000?” or how about “Why do the kids in The Goonies not take the Fratellis head-on? Why do they constantly flee from them when they cross paths? And Chunk, getting captured by them, what a pathetic damsel moment.” People not being successful in areas where they are out of their element is not some horribly evil thing. I also resent the idea the series is some horrible, anti-feminist work, particularly because the entire series revolves around Bella’s choice, and when she is not given agency she goes out of her way to take that agency. For all the flaws of Breaking Dawn, and there are many, I will give it this: presenting Bella as being in the right for wanting her choices respected is a good thing. With that in mind, I think the entire series is a lot more feminist than many are willing to admit.

And look, I’m not saying this book is a flawless masterpiece or anything like that. I have mentioned this is definitely a book more impressive for the world it creates than for the actual romance it centers around. But I do feel that, generally speaking, the books never descended to the point many who criticized the books say they did. I say “for the most part” because I cannot even muster up enough good will to say a single good thing about Breaking Dawn. But generally, the writing quality is decent. Even some of the twists on vampire lore are interesting and refreshing.

For instance… the sparkling. This is one of the most infamous additions to the lore of vampires in Meyers stories. When in the sunlight, rather than bursting into flames as vampires tend to do in fiction, their skin sparkles and glitters as if it was encrusted with diamonds. It does sound silly, and it really is, especially when they show it off in the movies… and yet, it is actually far more accurate than just about every depiction of vampires in nearly 100 years. You see, the idea vampires are killed by sunlight is actually a relatively new addition to vampire lore, being created for the famous silent masterpiece Nosferatu because they couldn’t come up with any other way to kill the vampire. In the original novel of Dracula, for instance, the titular count strut about during the day with no ill effect. So, by accident or perhaps by some better understanding of the creatures than most writers, Meyers was more accurate than nearly all contemporary portrayals of the characters. Also interesting – but not nearly so to the point I feel the need to dedicate a whole new paragraph to it – the idea of vampires having a sort of “love at first sight” thing that allows them to discern their soulmate was copied by Hotel Transylvania, so I feel like that addition to vampire lore has its merit as well.

The film adaptations tend to not truly fix the flaws with the storytelling, but instead to paint over them with some truly inspired silliness. The utter apathy Robert Pattinson exudes for his role as Edward Cullen is palpable in how he acts, and it tends to make Edward’s creepier actions actually less threatening than the were in the books – and I’d argue there he wasn’t particularly threathening, despite his angsting. Taylor Lautner’s oft-shirtless portrayal of Jacob Black seems a lot more genuinely, but equally cheesy; his and Pattinson’s onscreen chemistry really gives them the feel of two romantic rivals, which makes it easy to see exactly why there was such a devoted following rooting for one or the other back in the day. Then we get to Bella.

As usual, Bella is a horribly misunderstood character here. It’s easy to blame the books for how one-note Bella appears in the movies – as a romance protagonist, Bella has enough personality for you to care while still being enough of a blank slate that you can put yourself in her position so that you can fantasize about the outcomes – but I almost feel like her portrayal was a deliberate choice. Kristen Stewart is actually a very good actor when in the right role, and I feel like even in the past I’ve been too hard on her portrayal of Bella. I think I might go so far as to say her version of Bella is better than the book, because Stewart actually does inject some vapid, awkward teenage girlishness to the role. That’s something wonderful, especially about the films – the teenagers, more than a lot of other series, tend to feel like real people. They say the dumbest stuff imaginable, but really, is that not what being a teenager is? Everyone was a stupid, vapid idiot as a teenager, it’s just how teens are. So all t hat combined with everything else that has been said, does any part of Bella’s characterization truly feel THAT abnormal for an otherwise normal, brooding teen thrust headfirst into the world of the supernatural? I personally don’t think so; Bella is actually one of the most real characters of the series, an anchor to humanity in a sea of supernatural strangeness, a character that is absolutely perfect in her dull, flawed, overly-romantic personality. She may not be the strongest, or most interesting, or even the most pleasant character in all of fiction… but she has an air of realness to her few other characters can hope to achieve. Perhaps this is why a lot of people rejected and mocked her; it’s so much easier to dismiss and belittle something than accept that it is something real, warts and all. No one wanted to accept the less pleasant parts of Bella, and so she was rejected by all except the fans of the book; meanwhile, seemingly disinterested goth girls would be fought over by two equally strange men for her affection, all while she talks in a sort of half-awake near-monotone.

I was in that situation myself. It’s all real teenage bullshit.

I feel like this more than anything explains why the Twilight Saga ended up being violently rejected by so many people: too many people saw through the supernatural elements and into the real life teenage angst and did not like what they saw, as it reflected their own experiences. It’s so bizarre to say, but Stephanie Meyers may have been too real for her own good, and her portrayal of angst-ridden teen love triangles may have been just too close to home for a lot of people. I’m sure a lot of older people had negative experiences in high school as I did, so anything that reminds them of those stupid, painful years is not going to seem pleasant. With other stories that feature realistic elements with supernatural settings, such as Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and so on, they never really faced this kind of scrutiny and rejection as while they also are grounded with realistic portrayals of their teenagers, they also take place in overtly supernatural settings; there is no place where an experience could be like that of Hogwarts or Camp Half-Blood. But there’s probably of plenty of places like the dismal, dreary town of Forks, Washington, a perpetually cloudy town out in the sticks where nothing ever seems to happen. Reading about teen angst in such an agonizingly depressing setting will not go over well with anyone who has had negative experiences in regards to the elements portrayed, supernatural dressing or no.

Looking back at the Twilight Saga, after years of imitators of varying quality and numerous attempts by mediocre young adult franchises to capture this saga’s lightning in a bottle, the stories sans Breaking Dawn seem to have aged quite well, and hold up a lot better. Removed from the rabid fandom, overwhelming hype, ad constant mockery, the series stands as a solid and kind of cheesy young adult romance series, one with superb worldbuilding that I have yet to see any young adult series after it match and an absolutely fantastic ensemble cast that is just rife with fanfiction potential. I find that even the lead trio, be it in the films and in the movie, have a lot more layer and depth to them than initially thought, with Bella in particular a character I feel deserves some serious reevaluation. And while I’d never call the series a masterpiece to rival Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, or Lord of the Rings, I do think that the series is good enough to unironically be enjoyed. While there is of course plenty to snark at here – it’s a story featuring a rather honest depiction of teenagers, after all, and teenagers are idiots – I think there is a lot more to like than the insane hatedom of the book ever gave it credit for.

And even if you can’t bring yourself to admit the series is genuinely good (albeit cheesy), there’s no denying that it had a pretty good impact on popular culture. Aside from being the basis for Vampire Sucks, which has the honor of being the only genuinely good Seltzer and Friedberg film, it put supernatural romance stories back into the mainstream again. The biggest example of a supernatural romance film that I can see got a lot of mainstream recognition was 1990’s Ghost, which is held up as a romantic classic; while there were plenty of supernatural romance films between then and Twilight, none of them seem to be recalled fondly or even at all, and none of them can even come close to saying they had the sort of cultural impact Ghost did. Twilight, though… it had a huge impact. Without Twilight, we probably wouldn’t have gotten Warm Bodies, we probably wouldn’t have gotten Horns, and honestly? We probably wouldn’t have gotten The Shape of Water, or more realistically, the movie would not nearly be as accepted. Twilight for better or worse conditioned us to see the humanity in supernatural entities and find attraction in them (not exactly a new idea as far as vampires go, I know, but it definitely put it in the minds of young adults). I can easily see the genesis of the modern crowd of people lusting after the Asset, Pennywise, Godzilla, and Venom being the Twilight Saga; it was a gateway drug that put in the minds of youths “Hey, monsters can be really sexy. Like, REALLY sexy.”

The Twilight Saga is truly a fascinating work, for better and for worse. There is a lot in it that I really admire, and there’s plenty in it that I resent, but even at its worst I can never say that the series was boring. For all the flack I give Breaking Dawn, it is still far more readable than any of the garbage Cormac McCarthy has ever shat out, and nothing in the series was as overtly misogynistic as some of the dialogue in Ready Player One. As cheesy as the film series got, the first was a surprisingly effective indie supernatural romance and the third was a gloriously Gothic cheesy delight, with the second being the awkward but still enjoyable middle film and Breaking Dawn: Part 1 being the only genuinely awful film in the series; nothing positive could be said for the slew of imitators that crawled in this film’s wake, such as Beastly, Red Riding Hood, and even some of the would-be successors to this franchise such as the cinematic adaptations of Percy Jackson, Divergent, and The Hunger Games among others, which despite them being based off of books of far greater critical acclaim had absolutely no respect for their source material the way the Twilight Saga films did. As silly as some of the acting in the movies was – and it got very silly, considering the lead three all seemed to actively despise their roles – none of their acting was as painfully bad to sit through as Jennifer Lawrence’s attempts at acting in the first Hunger Games film, or the entire cast of the Percy Jackson movies. I would never say that Twilight is the absolute pinnacle of young adult literature, but I think a lot of us had our judgment clouded back in the day, and with the benefit of hindsight I think it’s safe to say the franchise was a lot of fun; I’d even go as far to say that it is an underrated work of genius in many aspects.

Removed from the climate that created it and put into a world it helped shape, I think the tale of Bella Swan and her romance of the angsty immortal Edward Cullen resonates quite a bit better. So thank you to Stephanie Meyers and everyone involved with the film series, because without your work, the world we live in would probably be a much less interesting place, with far fewer people horny for monsters. I really don’t think I would want to live in that world.

[welllpthisishappening]

hi! I have a possible canon prompt for you..? I was reading the blue line one shot where everyones drunk & getting tattoos, which is just so fun & entertaining, and it made me picture canon emma & killian getting similarly drunk for whatever reason and probably just being really adorable and cute but also probably annoying the dwarfs (turn the tables since it’s usually the other way around) I don’t even know, maybe snow and charming are involved too cause Henry and Ella minding the kids?? Idek

This also includes first birthday balls (because I got that prompt a couple weeks ago and didn’t do anything with that, sorry anon) and uncomfortable not-quite-royals and scandalized Henry because there should really be more Henry in these family fics. And Elsa and Mulan. Give Elsa a canon girlfriend 2k4ever. Sorry this took forever, anon. The ever-continuing saga of Laura writes canon continues to get more and more ridiculous:

“I honestly cannot breathe.”

Killian’s eyes flash her direction, something that Emma is sure could be the actual, living embodiment of the word mirth in his gaze, but she’s far too focused on maintaining consciousness to be worried about the linguistics of her internal monologue. “It’s got to be almost over, love.”“You say that longingly.”He makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, gaze snapping back to the pomp and circumstance and they’ve been to their fair share of balls and royal events now, what with Emma’s princess’dom and an all-realm that seems obsessed with celebrating even the most menial things, but this is the first time they’ve attended a ball that was in honor of their daughter and, well, it was kind of, honestly, sort of…the worst.

Like. The worst.

Emma’s ribs are never going to recover from whatever her mother promised was the height of Camelot fashion and the linguistics of that sentence are just as absurd as ever. And, really, Emma doesn’t harbor any lingering resentment to the kingdom of Camelot.

She doesn’t. Honestly.

Guinevere has been wonderful and fantastic and Henry and Ella spent two weeks at the castle a month ago, documenting the history of several fantastic and magical items, but Emma’s got memories and dark corners and her brain really can’t function when she’s not getting consistent oxygen to it.

“Why did we agree to this again, though?” Killian asks lightly, leaning back against a column with his hand tracing idle patterns on the small of Emma’s back. A knight of the round table looks positively scandalized.

Do they still have a round table? They might not. She should probably know that. It kind of seems like a weird question to ask though.

Hi, Guinevere, sorry Arthur died, but you were kind of into Lancelot anyway, right and remember that time Arthur killed my husband? Right, right, do you still have knights and would they be interested in signing up for the all-realm police department? Yeah, that’s definitely a weird name for it.

“Swan,” Killian says. He turns on her when she makes a noise, like she’s surprised to see he’s there and dressed in full-scale pirate regalia because they may have been introduced with royal titles, but they’re still them and half the reason they did agree to this was because of the clothes.

Or at least that’s half the reason Emma agreed to it.

“You’re drifting again, love,” he smiles, fingers moving to the curve of her jaw while his hook settles on the jut of her hip and they’re really going to cause a scene.

That happens sometimes at these royal events – Emma’s not used to it and Killian’s kind of uncomfortable and she’s normal, she can’t be expected to not want to make out with her husband when he’s got that much leather on.

That’s just an absurd notion.

Surely the knights of the round table can understand that.

Probably not.

“It’s because I really can’t breathe,” Emma mutters, letting her head fall slightly and the jacket he’s wearing inexplicably smells like the ocean. She assumes that’s some byproduct of magic that she doesn’t actually want to talk about. “And don’t bother making a joke about how I still look good, I really can’t process compliments at this point.”Killian chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair and the actual crown she’s wearing because she’s a princess, and Emma resists the urge to magic them anywhere else. They wouldn’t be able to leave Hope.

She’s the worst royal mother in the history of any of these realms.

“I really don’t think I’d use the word good,” Killian argues. “That’s rather lackluster, all things considered.”“You’re doing it right now.”“Complimenting?”Emma hums, and she feels his laughter before she hears it, which she assumes is also important to their general and continued happiness, but she might have been lying to herself about her lingering resentment towards the entire kingdom of Camelot. “We agreed to this, partially because you’d wear that vest and partially because it’s Hope’s first birthday and we’re supposed to be royal.”“I’m not sure what birthdays have to do with titles, but I do appreciate the first part of that sentence.”“Yeah, I figured you would.”

“You sound rather upset by that fact.”“No, I’m not. I’m just…” Emma sighs, shaking her head and she’s going to ruin her hair. She should have magic’ed her hair. Or invent magical hairspray. People would buy that. And then the knights of the round table wouldn’t be scandalized when her hair inevitably moved out of place after she inevitably started making out with her pirate husband.

Right there in the middle of a goddamn ball to celebrate the first birthday of Her Royal Highness, the princess of Misthaven, Hope Swan-Jones.

Emma had nearly fallen over when they’d used those exact words at the announcing – a term she didn’t actually know was a thing until Elsa whispered in it her ear.

“Aye,” Killian nods, an understanding expression that Emma appreciates because she’s not sure if she could actually explain the rather large maelstrom of feelings in the pit of her stomach. Although she assumes he’d be impressed by the use of the word maelstrom. “It is a little strange to be back here, isn’t it?”“You’re telling me.”

“We could circle back to your thoughts on my apparel, if that would help distract you.”Emma grins, slow and easy and she’s thankful for the wall behind her because she’s suddenly at very real risk of swooning. “First birthday parties are insane,” she mutters. “She’s not going to remember it. This is, possibly, supposed to be for us, but I think it’s more for my mom and diplomatic relations with Camelot.”“Are those being threatened?”“I honestly have no idea. Ask Henry, he’ll probably know.”“Where is the lad? I haven’t seen him since we did whatever that was on the stairs.”“The announcing,” Emma says, appreciating Killian’s very obvious disgust with royal traditions. “Elsa told me. That’s not something I knew off the top of my head.”“Ah, but you’re doing a very good job of looking the part of crown princess, darling.”He leans forward, hair falling dangerously close to his eyes, which really isn’t unfair because then Emma’s thinking about his eyes and how long they could feasibly be gone before anyone noticed they were missing and–

“Aw, c’mon,” Henry groans, appearing as quickly as if he’s the one in the family with teleporting magic. Lucy’s pressed to his side, Ella in a dress of her own that’s probably leaving lasting impressions on her spleen and Emma’s not entirely sure what her entire soul does when she sees her son holding her daughter, but it kind of feels like the fireworks her mother promised would happen at the end of the ball.

A goddamn ball.

For her kid.

“Didn’t this happen enough while I was growing up?” Henry continues, only half bothering to keep his voice down and Emma narrows her eyes. “You guys got to cross realms to do it now?”“Do it,” Killian echoes slowly. Emma hopes the knights don’t hear this part of the conversation. They’ll never be allowed back in Camelot.

That might not be the worst thing in the world.

Henry shrugs, tilting his head like that’s the majority of his argument and it was the same when he was sixteen too. Ella looks incredibly amused. “How come you guys aren’t dancing?” he asks. “You dance. I’ve seen you dance.”Killian twists, presumably to arch an eyebrow and Henry’s expression shifts slightly – like he’s about to get grounded for breaking curfew or lingering on the front porch with Violet for too long that one summer after they, well, defeated all of evil.

Emma needs to sit down.

She needs to get out of this gown.

She needs a drink. Several drinks.

“Is that actually code for something?” Ella asks softly, mostly to Henry, and Emma makes a strangled noise. Killian’s whole body tenses.

Henry chokes on the sudden surplus of air around them, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together and his head shake looks as awkward as this entire moment now feels. Emma keeps mumbling oh my God under her breath. She’s not entirely sure Killian is speaking English.

“What are those words?” Henry asks lightly, something that sounds like laughter clinging to the question. “Those aren’t the usual pirate curses, are they?”“How often were you on the receiving end of pirate curses?” Ella grins. Henry grits his teeth, and they’re attracting a crowd, the quiet tap of heels and quicker tap of different heels and Anna practically squeals when she sees the baby in Henry’s arms.

“Not that much,” Henry promises, but both Killian and Emma click their tongues and Anna squeals again.

“That was impressive,” she yells. “Did you two practice that?”

“Anna, you’ve got to keep your voice down, or we’re going to have a shrieking baby on our hands,” Elsa chastises. Her voice lacks any real sense of threat though, mostly because she looks so incredibly happy and Mulan looks even better and there are already tiny snowflakes floating in the air above Hope’s head.

Emma smiles.

“Right, right, right,” Anna says quickly. “Sorry. I just…it was an impressive show of parental control, you know?”

Henry’s going to do permanent damage to his throat if he keeps choking like that. “Not on purpose,” Emma says evenly. The tips of Killian’s ears go red. “And it wasn’t really that much, but there were a few warranted pirate curses and what was that one thing?”

She glances at Henry, shuffling awkwardly on his feet as he tries to ignore Ella’s curious gaze and Killian’s decidedly paternal stare and Snow White is going to be disappointed none of them are dancing.

“What was the one thing?” Ella prompts, tugging on Henry’s shirtsleeve when he doesn’t answer immediately. “When was the one thing?”Henry shakes his head again.

“Is no one going to tell the story?” Mulan asks, and Emma knows she doesn’t imagine the note of disappointment in her voice.

Killian sighs. “He was sixteen,” he starts, Emma biting her lip so she doesn’t actually start to cackle. “And wanted to learn how to drive.”“Except Mom wasn’t around,” Henry adds. His mouth twitches when he glances at Killian.

“Exactly. Dealing with something from what was it, Swan?”“The Land of Untold Stories, almost always,” Emma answers.

“Of course, of course. So, something with the Land of Untold Stories, but the lad needed to practice driving and I’d gotten fairly good at working the machine–”“–Oh my God, Killian, eventually you can just call it a car,” Henry interrupts, but his jaw clacks shut loudly when he’s met with another vaguely paternal stare and pirate seems to just radiate off Killian in moments like these.

“Zelena let us borrow her automobile,” Killian continues, a rapt audience with wide eyes and a cooing baby and even more snowflakes. “And things were going well, until we started driving towards the town line and the wildlife decided to attack.”“What?” Elsa balks.

“It was diabolical.”“Or so the story goes,” Emma amends. “It was a rabbit. Ran into the road while Henry was driving. He swerved, drove off the road and really did more damage to the tree than anything else. Unless you’re counting Killian’s frayed nerves.”

“We’re not,” Killian intones.“It was enormous, Mom,” Henry promises, the same words she’d heard a few moments after the incident and a frantic phone call and the whole thing still kind of made her laugh because they’d both been incredibly worried about the state of the rabbit.

It had run back into the woods almost immediately.

“I’m sure it was, kid. Monty Python-esque.”“No one ever made claims that large, Swan,” Killian reasons. “But it was rather big and very much in the road and, well….it led to several curses and a variety of words that Henry was told never to repeat again.”

“It was a learning experience,” Henry chuckles.

“Did the Wicked Witch ever find out?” Mulan asks, eyes flitting around like Zelena will descend on them at the mere mention of her name and demand monetary payments for the damage.

Emma shakes her head. “There was, uh…some magic involved. Possibly my magic.”Anna and Elsa make almost identical noises of surprise and something that might just be glee, wide smiles and bright eyes and Hope absolutely loves the sound, tiny hands reaching up for either one of them. They spend a lot of time in Arendelle.

Emma probably wouldn’t hate her dress so much if she were wearing it in Arendelle.

“That is sneaky, Emma,” Anna accuses, but she can’t really argue with it and possibly mumbles something that sounds a bit like pirate under her breath if only to see what happens to Killian’s face. He smiles.

And kisses her hair again.

Henry groans.

“Shall we repeat ourselves, my boy?” Killian asks, but Emma’s mind gets caught on more linguistics and possessive pronouns or something. “It’s not as if you’re entirely unused to it.”“That was a confusing use of double negatives,” Henry says.

“And yet I’m fairly certain you kept up. That all-realm knowledge truly coming into play.”“Ah, that and like…a vast knowledge of pirate curses. What language was that before though, seriously? Mermaid?”“No, that dialect is far too hard to master. It was an old fairy curse, actually.”“Ah, well, yeah, of course.”Killian flashes him a grin – all white teeth and teasing of the parental variety and Emma knows Henry didn’t come over there just to rag on their kissing tendencies. “It’s kind of weird being here, isn’t it?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “I mean…I know Guinevere’s, you know, trying to make everything not weird, but it’s–”

“–Aye, a little weird,” Killian finishes.

“And you guys looked kind…uncomfortable?”Emma winces, but she knows she can’t argue that either and her inability to breathe probably didn’t have much to do with the corset to begin with. Killian knew that. She’s a terrible liar. “We probably would have been cool with a first birthday that included crappy store-bought decorations and like…I don’t know, she really likes Doc McStuffin reruns.”“What is that exactly?” Elsa asks, genuinely curious and Killian shudders like he’s been told he has to watch more fake surgery on cartoon animals.

“Actual torture,” he answers.

Henry’s knees buckle when he laughs, eyes closed and an arm around his waist and it is kind of ridiculous, but they’re also at a ball and Emma’s seriously about to challenge that one knight to a duel and he might just be, like, security and they kind of look like they’re loitering. She wonders if they’ll ever make new Doc McStuffins episodes or if she and Killian are just fated to watch that one where Farmer Mack’s goats start acting strangely on repeat for the rest of their lives.

“Ah, damn now I’ve got the theme song stuck in my head,” Emma complains.

“Torture,” Killian repeats. “Actual torture. She’s not even a medical professional.”“She’s like…five years old,” Henry laughs. The other actual fairy tale characters around them look incredibly confused.

“That’s neither here nor there. Her practice is horribly run.”“Is there someone you can complain to about that?” Anna asks, and Emma has to actually cap her hand over her mouth to stop whatever sound she makes from echoing in the grand ballroom of Camelot’s largest castle.

There were multiple castles to choose from for this ball.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Henry says, waving his hands in an almost valiant attempt to keep this conversation on track. “Strangely enough we did not come over here to talk about you guys cursing in my youth or the car incident or Doc McStuffins.”“Who would have thought it,” Emma mumbles.

“We came over here to offer our babysitting services for one night and because we know it’s weird to be here, you know, after everything and…here.” He reaches into his pocket, a move mirrored by Kristoff who’d been entirely silent until he thrust a flask into the center of their small circle and Elsa twisted her wrist, a tray of actual iced shot glasses balanced on her palm.

“We don’t know the specifics,” Elsa explains. “But Henry filled us in on the…well, they’re mostly just lows here aren’t they?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Emma admits. “Death and darkness will do that to you.”“Right, so we’re going to ignore that entirely and–”“–Drink?” Henry asks, but all of them are already nodding and Lucy’s running back to the other side of the hall to find Regina because, well, that happened at a Camelot ball too and really none of them should have agreed to this.

“You didn’t start without me, did you?” Regina asks, a hand on Henry’s shoulder when she skids to a stop. He shakes his head. “Good, good. Guinevere wanted to discuss trade routes and I thought I was going to have to threaten fireballs if she didn’t stop.”“Diplomacy at its finest,” Emma whispers, working another laugh out of Killian and they haven’t really moved out of each other’s space since the making out got interrupted.

Regina lifts her eyebrows. “Would you like to try it? Camelot’s a landlocked kingdom and they’re greatest export is stone and knights for hire–”“–Are they really called knights? I couldn’t remember.”“I honestly do not know. I think there’s a petition to change it, but that’s so far down my list of things I care about, that I–”“–Do you think we could table the knight discussion for a moment?” Kristoff asks gruffly, and he looks more uncomfortable than the rest of them combined.

Emma nods. “Of course. Uh…happy birthday, Hope.”The small crowd echoes the sentiment, downing shots in magical glasses with an alcohol no one has actually named, but the liquid lands in Emma’s gut and she’s positive it sends a jolt of warmth through her entire system immediately. And she’s not really sure how it happens, but the music starts to fade a little and Killian’s arm never leaves her waist and, at some point, she realizes she’s rather drunk.

They all are.

Except Henry and Ella. Who have to look after kids. Like responsible adults.

“How did this happen?” Emma asks, stumbling forward slightly and both Killian and Elsa try to catch her. She lands on his chest with a not-so-soft thump and she hopes her mother doesn’t see her. This is not princess behavior.

Pirate, maybe.

But certainly not princess.

There are still snowflakes in the air, but they’re starting to look less like snowflakes and more like snowblobs and that thought leaves Emma snickering into Killian’s vest. He kisses the top fo her hair.

“I think that drink is rather potent, Swan,” Killian mumbles. HIs voice is still frustratingly even, but Emma knows he’s starting to feel the effects of the alcohol too, eyes glazed slightly and mouth going slack whenever he looks at her, like he forgets what she’s wearing and is struck all over again every time his eyes land on her.

It’s kind of nice, honestly.

“It’s troll’ish,” Elsa says. Her body’s wobbling quite a bit.

“What?” Emma snaps. “Troll. Rock troll.”“Can rock trolls get drunk?”“Not very easily.”

Emma laughs, the sound bubbling out of her like several different and metaphorical springs and Henry keeps muttering in Ella’s ear, quiet smiles and whispers and she resists the urge to point out the whole thing is kind of hypocritical. She presses up on her toes to kiss Killian’s cheek.

“I think it worked better on us than it did on the trolls,” Anna whispers. She doesn’t do a very good job of actually whispering.

“Maybe we should get some air,” Killian suggests. “It’s rather warm in here.”Emma doesn’t think he means to move his hand, but it shifts anyway, drifting down her spine and closer to her hips again “I think you’re drunk,” she says. Henry makes that choking noise again. “Kid, this was honestly your plan.”“Yeah,” he nods. “I didn’t come up with troll alcohol, though.”

“Please don’t use those words in that order again,” Killian mumbles. Henry salutes. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are, lad.”“And you and Mom are drunk at a ball.”“Again, your plan,” Emma repeats. “But, uh, yeah, if we go get some air are you going to tattle on Mom and Dad to me?”“Who are you asking?”

“Don’t tell Snow White and Prince Charming that we snuck out of the castle,” Regina says, and it probably isn’t fair for Henry to be on the receiving end of so much parental authority when he’s very clearly the most responsible adult in this situation.

Henry grins, wrapping an arm around Ella and she’s holding Hope now which is really probably for the best. “Sure thing, Mom. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

They do, in fact, get into plenty of trouble.

And earn a few more pirate curses and Emma almost gets the hang of Mermaid dialect by the end of the night, wincing every time she moves because there was apparently some kind of tattoo master in the city that doesn’t actually have a name outside the castle.

“You know that’s very fantasy,” Emma says, hours later. She’s propped on her side, blankets pooling around her waist and Killian’s eyes aren’t glazed anymore. If anything, they’re somehow even sharper, He keeps staring at her, gaze flickering from her face to her wrist and the ink that she knows, rationally, is dry, but it kind of feels like it’s working its way into her soul or something and they’re going to have a very stern talk with the trolls about the contents of their alcohol.

“What is?” Killian asks. His fingers dance along her side, working a path up her arm towards her hair and the shell of her ear and Emma can’t help but shiver. He grins.

He’s not wearing the vest anymore.

“A generic city outside the castle walls. One without a name, that just gets referred to as city and–”

He cuts her off before she finishes, which is honestly for the best because she forgot her point when her eyes fell to his lips and his own presumably dry ink on matching wrists and Emma had never really gotten the chance to be young and stupid, at least not in some cliche, John Hughes type of way, so she was going to be almost middle aged and very in love with her husband.

He kisses her with something that feels like desperation and matching, drunk tattoos and Emma could hear the fireworks going off when the needle pricked her skin.

She assumes that’s a sign.

Of something.

Like happily ever after or fresh chances and slightly brighter memories.

They fall asleep eventually, smiles still on their faces and limbs tangled together and Emma’s head pounds when the first pinpricks of light filter through the curtains the next morning.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Killian mumbles, mostly into her hair. It’s got a tendency to get everywhere. She never hung up her gown. It’s still in a pile a few feet away, next to Killian’s boots and sword belt. “It’s still early.”

Emma hums, letting her eyes flutter shut again and they’d never really come up with a second part of the plan for picking up their daughter. She’s never really worried when Hope is with Henry though, and she can’t do much more than burrow closer to Killian’s side when his hook wraps around her wrist and Emma knows he’s smiling.

She opens her eyes slowly to find just that, a slight twist of lips and almost palpable happiness and her thumb brushes over the marked skin on his right arm. “Any regrets?” she asks, careful to keep her voice easy, like it isn’t a huge question, but he’s already shaking his head and she knew the answer anyway.

“Not a single one, Swan.”He kisses her again, a quick brush of lips and feeling and he doesn’t wince when her feet collide with his shins because they’re always cold and he’s used to it. That’s nice too. Indefinitely.

They get a few more hours of sleep before there’s a knock on the door and a baby on the other side and Emma takes her gratefully, peppering her stomach with kisses while Killian draws patterns on her arm and Henry grins knowingly when he notices the matching marks on their wrists – a tiny black indefinite symbol and always and something death couldn’t touch.

Emma’s a philosopher when she’s hungover, apparently.

“Good call,” Henry grins. “Grandma wants to eat breakfast as a family.”

“We’ll be right there,” Emma promises, and they’re only a few minutes late, hangovers magic’ed away while they were still in their rooms and it might be the best ball they’ve ever gone to.

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Bah, HumBuck! Plan A

 Summary: You’re the newest Avenger. Realizing that Bucky plans to spend Christmas alone, you enlist the help of Wanda, your best friend, and Steve, Bucky’s best friend and your mentor. You’re determined to make his Christmas amazing. Pairing: Bucky x Female!Powered!Reader Word Count: ~2,242 Warnings: blood (just a bit), language, fluff A/N: This is for Sam’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree Writing Challenge. My prompt was #16, “’This was a terrible plan.’ ‘This was your plan.’” @lovelynemesis I definitely listened to the Pentatonix Yule Log playlist while writing this. Nonstop. On repeat. So good. It just makes me so happy. *gifs not mine*

Masterlist // Plan B (Next Chapter)

It was the morning of December 24th in upstate New York and the inside of the Avengers base had been decked out from top to bottom in ostentatious decorations. Sparkling trees decorated every level, accompanied by garlands, dazzling banners and streamers, and bafflingly intricate and expensive-looking wreaths.

The outside of the base was covered in a thick, fluffy layer of snow; a beautiful winter wonderland, indeed. By the time everyone had cleared out of the base for Christmas, it was only you, Steve, Wanda, Vision, and Bucky who remained.

Both you and Bucky were relatively recent additions to the team; he’d gotten back from Wakanda a year ago, Hydra-free, and you’d been recruited only shortly thereafter.

You didn’t like to toot your own horn too much, but your power -being able to create and control fire and heat- was pretty badass. However, just like fire itself, your powers were temperamental and hard to control. As such, you were assigned a mentor and weren’t put on active duty yet.

They chose Steve for you, which had taken you by surprise. Surely someone like Thor, Wanda, or Vision would have been a better choice? But it had been decided you’d benefit from Cap’s patient guidance and that his level-headed demeanor might even wear off on you a bit. To your superiors’ credit, it had been working so far. You were more likely to think before you acted now and your powers seemed to fight you less as of late. Still, no missions yet.

You were flipping idly through TV channels in the common room, steaming mug of tea clutched in your hand, when Wanda plopped down next to you. The smile on her face was one you knew well; it was full of the promise for fun.

“I know that look, Wanda. What’s going on?” you asked curiously, smirk dancing on your lips as you looked at your best friend.

“Wanda wishes to have a movie marathon with the two of us,” came Vision’s voice from behind the couch. You jerked your head back in surprise, craning to get a look at the red android. He was staring at you, blue eyes trained unwaveringly on your face.

“Vision, stop lurking and come sit down next to your girlfriend,” you ordered good-naturedly, pointing deliberately at the spot on the other side of Wanda from you. He acquiesced, face thoughtful as he considered your words.

Wanda’s cheeks were tinged pink at your statement and she reached for Vision’s hand once he’d sat down. Their fingers laced together and you smiled. They were so cute together; they’d only recently started dating officially. “Steve and Bucky are invited too, of course!” Wanda said hurriedly.

“I don’t think that’s happening,” said yet another intruder on your lovely Christmas Eve morning.

The three of you turned to look at Steve, who looked troubled.

“What do you mean, Cap’n?” you asked playfully, leaning your head onto the back of the sofa so you could stare at him more easily, brows raised in question.

“Bucky’s holed up in his room and won’t come out; Says he wants to spend Christmas alone,” Steve said as he walked over to the couch and sunk down next to you, anxiety radiating off of him in waves.

“No one wants to spend Christmas alone,” Wanda said disbelievingly.

“Data does suggest that most people prefer to spend this time of year with ones closest emotionally to them. This trend is especially prevalent-”

“Viz,” you said tersely, giving him a chastising look.

He stopped mid sentence, looking from you to Wanda, who was giving him a similar look.

“It is as Wanda says. No one wishes to spend Christmas alone,” he said, bowing his head slightly to her in acknowledgement and apology.

“I know that, but I can’t force him to come spend time with us,” Steve said, running a hand over his face in exasperation.

“Well, technically-” you began, finger held up in objection.

“No, (Y/N). Don’t go there,” Steve said, giving you a hard look.

“I wouldn’t actually force him! I’m just saying we technically could!” you said, motioning vaguely at the four of you, especially Wanda and Vision.

Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Okay, yeah, that’s the last resort. Got it,” you said, resting your chin on your hand while you thought of a better plan.

“No, that’s not-” he groaned. “Why are you like this?” Steve asked despairingly, looking at you as though you alone caused all of his problems. To be fair, you definitely caused at least half of them.

...

Maybe two-thirds.

“I’ve got it!” you said loudly and suddenly enough for both Steve and Wanda to jump in surprise. “Steve! What did you and Bucky do for Christmas in the 40′s?” you asked, turning your excited attention on him.

Steve had been looking at you apprehensively, but his face softened a bit at your question. “After my ma died I spent Christmas at his place. Christmas wasn’t as… grand as it is nowadays,” he said, grimacing slightly. You knew he resented the increasingly-corporate holiday that Christmas had become. “It was a quiet Christmas Eve dinner together with his family and then camping out in his room for the night. His parents were nice enough to get me a gift for Christmas every year and we’d open presents in the living room, then have a nice breakfast together,” Steve said, thoughts 80 years away.

You could imagine that; A young Bucky, who had just hit puberty and was beginning to fill out, and a still-scraggly asthmatic Steve sitting together at the dining room table, the Barnes family treating Steve like a second son. You could see the wide-eyed boys excitedly opening their presents and Bucky’s younger sister, Rebecca (who you’d seen in a few pictures), playing with her new doll.

“I have an idea!” you said excitedly, slightly manic grin lining your features.

A chorus of Oh no’s rang out in the room and you frowned at all of them.

“You have a choice. Either you help me, or you leave me unsupervised to do whatever I want,” you said, turning your sickly sweet smile on each of them.

Steve gulped, eyes widening in horror. Even Wanda looked a bit alarmed; she knew how much trouble you could get yourself into.

Vision seemed to be thinking. “If we leave her unsupervised for twenty-four hours in her current state of mind, the likelihood of the base being burned down before sunrise tomorrow is 91.64%,” he stated.

“Can’t we just lock her up?” Steve asked.

You looked at him, shocked, hand over your chest, betrayal clear on your face.

“At present, Mister Stark’s fireproofing cannot hold out against the highest temperature at which Miss (Y/L/N) can burn. She could escape if she so wished,” Vision said solemnly.

“Can you knock her out for a few hours?” Steve asked, turning to Wanda.

You gasped at Steve, legitimately offended now.

Wanda snorted. “I can, yes, but I won’t. Christmas is her favorite holiday and I won’t be the one to take that away from her. Besides, I wouldn’t use my powers on my best friend, anyway,” she said, shrugging.

You beamed at her, holding your fist out for a fist bump, which she gave enthusiastically, both of you making explosion noises and wiggling your fingers as you pulled your hands away.

Steve sighed, recognizing defeat.

“Alright, what’s this plan?” he asked, sounding less than thrilled at the thought of whatever you were about to say.

You grinned widely, standing up from the couch, and turned to face the three of them, placing your hands firmly on your hips.

“Well, to start-!”

Your plan ended up being a bunch of mini plans rolled into one. You figured that at least one of the things on your list would make him happy.

You knocked on Bucky’s door, practically bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet.

His grumpy voice could be heard through the door a half second later. “Go away, Steve. I already told you-”

“It’s me, Bucky!” you said, cutting across what was likely a well-rehearsed speech.

There was a pause where you could hear him shuffling behind the door before it opened a half second later.

It was only open a few inches but you could see Bucky studying you warily.

“Is Steve out there?” he asked, glancing as far down the hallway as he could in either direction.

“Nope! Just me,” you said, voice downright chipper.

At that, Bucky opened the door the rest of the way. His room was bathed in darkness, making you frown for a second before you plastered a smile back on your face.

“So I know it might not be your thing, but I wanted to make Christmas cookies. It’s a little last minute, I know, but the urge was just overwhelming all of a sudden. I’ve never made cookies before so I was hoping you might help me out, even if it’s just as an extra set of hands because I know I’ll probably end up messing them up or something and I really wanted to have a nice treat for-”

Bucky held up a hand, effectively cutting off your rambling.

You gulped, suddenly nervous. You wouldn’t admit it to anybody, but you had a huge crush on Bucky. You had a feeling Wanda knew, but she hadn’t said anything yet. Although you were prone to rambling, it always seemed worse when you were around Bucky.

He crossed his arms as he studied you and you put on the most doe-eyed, hopeful expression you could muster.

He stared at you for a full ten seconds before he spoke again. “Fine,” he said grumpily before unceremoniously slamming the door in your face.

You stared at the door, confused. It sounded like he’d agreed, but... why did he close his door in your face? Maybe his words had been a ruse to appease you? Confuse you into shutting up? If that was the case, it was working. When he didn’t immediately reappear, you started pacing in front of his door, trying to think of a new plan of attack. You could always-

“What are you doing?” he asked from his doorway, eyeing you with confusion.

You yelped, jumping at the sound of his voice. You hadn’t heard the door open or seen him standing there.

Stupid super-spy-assassin sneaking skills.

You looked him up and down and realized what he’d been doing: getting changed. He wore a cozy-looking maroon sweater and a pair of thick black sweat pants. You had to stop yourself from giggling at the thick pair of dark grey toe socks on his feet.

“Waiting for you,” you said, beaming up at him. “Ready to make some cookies?” you asked jovially, jerking your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.

He shrugged noncommittally and avoided your gaze.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” you said excitedly as you grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the kitchen where Steve, Vision, and Wanda were gathering ingredients from the expansive pantry.

The five of you were chatting idly at the dining room table, cleaning up the giant mess that had been the cookie-making party. The kitchen was big enough that you’d been able to put all of your creations in at once, meaning you’d have plenty of time to decorate them.

“What’s that smell?” Bucky asked, sniffing the air, a look of concern on his face.

You sniffed the air, too, and your face fell in horror. “Oh no,” you muttered, dropping the dough-caked bowl and spoons you’d been carrying as you ran to the kitchen. They clattered to the floor, utensils and bits of cookie dough flying every direction.

The ovens were belching out smoke and you hurriedly shut them off, muttering a string of expletives under your breath. The others peeked in cautiously (probably in the fear that you were setting everything on fire, judging from the apprehension on their faces).

You yanked the trays out of the oven without bothering to put on oven mitts (the heat didn’t effect you and they just got in the way, anyway) and placed them on the kitchen counter before slamming the oven doors shut again. You stared down at the trays in wide-eyed despair.

The cookies all of you had just made were blackened and barely recognizable from the fun Christmas-themed shapes they’d been when you’d put them in the ovens.

“What temperature did you set the ovens to?” Wanda asked cautiously, moving to stand next to you with her shirt over her nose.

“I thought I set it to 350, but-”

“The ovens were set to 530 on broil, Miss Maximoff,” FRIDAY helpfully supplied.

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry. I just pressed the buttons and didn’t bother double checking-”

“It’s alright, (Y/N). Accidents happen,” Steve said, smiling kindly at you.

“We have time! We can make another batch-”

“It will take a few hours to clean the ovens of the smokey smell. Using them before this process is over is not recommended,” FRIDAY informed you.

You groaned as you sank to the floor in defeat. Wanda picked through the cookies carefully, looking for any that might be worth saving, but seemed to deem them all ultimately unsalvageable and dumped them into the trash one tray after the other.

Hell, this hadn’t worked. Which meant it was time for Plan B.

Dangnabit, let’s try Plan B! (Next Chapter)

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out  this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

☕ Buy Me a Coffee! ☕

[itbeajen]

Agape [8] | Yuri Plisetsky | Witch!AU

"Wake up, sunshine," the Sorcerer cooed. He was ecstatic. No, perhaps ecstatic wasn't the correct word, he wasn't even sure if there was a word that could properly describe the rush of emotions he was experiencing. He twirled around, using your body and he gently patted down the creases on your outfit. He could still feel your resistance, albeit much fainter than it was before, but still putting up a fight in the control for your body. He frowned, but there was a hint of ferocity laced within the usual gesture of discomfort or disagreement. He tuts, and instead of your usual gentle and soothing voice, the voice is almost guttural and definitely dripping with malice and toxins. "Now now [F/N], the more you resist me, the more your precious Hunter here will suffer in your stead. Of course, unless you want him to suffer, then I'll be more than glad to help you," he chastised you in your attempts to reclaim your body. He can't hear you, nor can he see you, but he can still feel your presence. It was a constant flickering thing, much similar to a gnat that's constantly buzzing near your ear or a flash of light in the corner of your eye. He frowned and muttered, "Persistent whore, you should know better than to fight against me for possession of this body. It's only temporary anyways, although this body is quite flattering and-" His monologue is cut off by the sudden movement made by the previously fallen hunter. Despite lunging upwards with the use of his sword, Yuri was still adjusting himself from the strange dream he just had. Glaring aquamarine orbs were slightly outlined in silver, and the Sorcerer rose a delicate eyebrow as he watched Yuri wobbly stabilized himself after one swing of the enchanted sword. The Sorcerer licks his - your - lips, and then pauses upon tasting a rather familiar warm liquid. Iron. Your lips curled into a hysterical smile and the Sorcerer chuckled, "A. Wound?"

His voice was deliriously delightful, yet also laced with disbelief and slight hostile. He cocked his head slightly to the right, your hair tilting away from the wound and he slowly raises a hand to his right cheek. "You actually managed to cut me?" the Sorcerer laughed, "Ah, the cons of having a physical body. Of course, the White Witch is much more sturdy than a mere human, but even then.." he pauses as he channels some magic from the air around him and freezes his entire right side of the face in a mask of some sort. There was no beauty or aesthetic meaning to the mask. Your eyes were no longer the familiar arctic blue that Yuri grew to love and cherish, but rather some sort of demonic symbol. Your eyes no longer reflected the peace and understanding you were hoping to obtain from this conflict. Instead, it was the window into the never ending swirl of darkness known as the Sorcerer. The pitch black and lack of color indicated nothing more than the lack of life and meaning outside of hate and resentment. Yuri's breath was labored as he attempted to breathe in the suffocating presence of the Sorcerer. His eyes were steeled as he narrowed them at the Sorcerer in what resembled hate and anguish. The Sorcerer chuckled, and for a moment Yuri's resentment is lulled away due to the familiar melodic chuckle that should only belong to you. "Oh, look at you, so torn. This is why every hunter and White Witch failed, you know?" Every hunter has failed? Yuri's eyes widened at this statement. The Sorcerer noticed the slight surprise and he laughed, "But of course, that's why your soul is continually reborn. Of course, no memories are retained, otherwise you guys would have maybe learned from the first time around. But it seems as though.." The Sorcerer glances down at the glowing pendant that mirrored Yuri's. The pendant on your body floated away from it, and towards Yuri, as though it knew that the current owner of the body was no longer you. The Sorcerer grimaced and he muttered, "It seems as though you pesky insects finally figured it out. "But of course, can you actually bring yourself to harm [F/N], she's your-" "I made a promise," Yuri declared in a soft voice. But with that declaration, he had already lashed out twice. With his sword, he swings it forward, causing the Sorcerer to lean away and then stumble backward. And then with his left hand, his gun takes aim. A resounding shot echoes through the walls of the cavern and the Sorcerer's eyes widen in pure shock. Yuri internally cringed upon seeing himself shoot a bullet through your body. It's not her. He internally fought his urge to stop, but he made a promise. I said I'd end this. For the both of us. Even though it means.. even though it means she'll die. He momentarily lowers his head before shaking his thoughts away. The flicker of vulnerability in his eyes was gone, and the icy cold masked away any of his emotions. The Sorcerer frowned and muttered, "Perhaps you're different from the others, but even then." A bloodthirsty grin curls upward on his lips, and his eyes flickered from red to black and then to purple. His left arm slowly rises from his side, but Yuri's movements were quicker. With much discipline and trained movement, Yuri sheathes his gun in its holster and then lunges forward, one hand placed on the blade of the enchanted sword he had been passed on to from Otabek. "Percutio!*" Yuri commands. The runes on the sword lights up in a flash of brilliant blue before enveloping the whole of the sword. He runs his left hand from the hilt to the tip and muttered, "Linio.*" The Sorcerer doesn't manage to move fast enough, and Yuri's sword manages to litter cuts all over his left arm. An ear piercing scream of pain is heard from the Sorcerer as he clutches his left arm with his right hand. He glares at the young hunter and growled, "YOU DARE SEAL MY MAGIC? I am magic. How dare you." He attempts to lunge forward, but in the internal realms in which he fought against your for control of your body, you literally had him chained up. "This- This wretched witch," he hissed. Your presence obviously cannot respond, but your hold on him tightened, further preventing him from moving. Yuri's eyes widened upon seeing your left eye return to its normal radiance, albeit momentarily. With the seal in movement and magic, the Sorcerer was basically rendered useless. He growled as Yuri slowly approached him, "How can the Witch still have so much power despite losing her body?!" "Who said [F/N] lost everything?" Yuri spat out in response. He raises his left hand, the gun loaded and the hidden runes glowing with a faint gold and he muttered, "If only things could be different." "You won't do it, you can't kill the love of your life, your other half. If you're truly human, you w-" The Sorcerer's words don't finish. The only thing that's heard is the screams and gasps of the Sorcerer and the echo of two bullets lodging into the chest. One dead center and one just slightly off center, just barely grazing the heart. A shadow of darkness escapes your body, and you slump forward, lifelessly onto the floor. Yuri barely manages to stop you from falling face forward onto the bloodied cavern floor, and he glances around, searching for the Sorcerer's form. The Sorcerer was hovering over your form, and he growled, "You just killed off my most perfect vessel, and your other half." He huffed, and he barely manages to keep his shadowy form afloat. Hysterical laughter soon followed, and he muttered to himself, "That's fine, if I can't have her body as a vessel, I can still live as long as I'm given time to recuperate in another vessel. And you, you... your body is perfect, tempered with a witch's magic and refined by a Hunter's discipline, you'll be perfect!" The shadowy form rushes towards Yuri, much too fast for him to respond, but nothing happens. It passes through him, much like wind and Yuri's eyes widened, and the Sorcerer's voice is heard rambling throughout the entire cave. "Why? I've never failed to take over a body. Why? Why? Why? WHY? WHY?!" His form was slowly beginning to flicker from the effects of his own magic. You slowly and weakly lifted your head, a sly smirk on your lips and he howled, "YOU WRETCH." "Y-You.. will fall.. by your own devices," you wheezed. You weakly push yourself up with your good arm, and fall back onto your bottom as you stared at him defiantly. Blood trickled from the side of your lip and your left hand was limp and dead against your side. "His own devices?" Yuri repeated and the Sorcerer screamed, "You knew? But how? I altered the runes, I CHANGED EVERYTHING FOR THIS DAY." You couldn't respond, it was already getting harder to breathe with and each breath irritated a raspy cough filled with blood and mucus out of you. The Sorcerer could do nothing as he watched, and felt, his life's energy slowly fade away the longer he went without a body. I have to do something, if I can just take over that bastard of a hunter's body, I. Will. Survive. With the remaining magic he had left, he rushes dead on towards Yuri's body. The boy defiantly stares back, aquamarine orbs piercing through the shadowy ball of nothingness as he passes right through him. "It-It-It doesn't work?!" he howled in anguish and he glared at you. You were leaning against one of the pillars of his abandoned altar and screamed, "YOU WITCH, WHAT DID YOU DO?" "A simple protective spell," you rasped out. Yuri's eyes widened and he weakly asked, "Protection from Being?" You nodded, and the Sorcerer paused and he growled, "So you did know... that you and I are of the same being." You weakly nod, and with a shaky breath you mumbled, "So if I die, you die with me. And you can do nothing about it, because my Hunter will live." Yuri glanced from you to the Sorcerer and the black ball of nothingness flickered into a physical form of a cloaked figure and he muttered, "You're telling me that I will die?" He shook his head, "No, I refuse. The price to pay for that spell is too much, unless.." He paused and he chuckled. His voice no longer had the hysteria and malice laced in it, and surprisingly sounded normal, and defeated. "I see. I see. The sacrifice was us," he whispered as he felt the last bits of his life fade and he lowered his hooded head and mumbled, "I guess in the end, I still lose." You and Yuri watch with baited breath as his presence completely fades away, but with it, the balance in magic is tipped. Yuri immediately is able to read the signs and with a slight stumble, he manages to swing you into his arms as he dashes towards the exit as the cave slowly begins to rumble. Telltale signs of its crumble begins as you watched with slightly hooded lids of the ceiling of the cave collapsing on itself. The altar disappeared with a roar of rocks and sediment filling in the sealed cavern where the Sorcerer once resided. The magic is fading away rather rapidly.. a lot of it is trying to come back to this frail body, but... You let out another ragged sigh, blood spilling out with it. Yuri glances down, and you barely catch the concern and desperation in his eyes. Your lids fluttered close, and you could only pray that everything works like you hoped it would.

Master! Ela sprinted to the cave opening upon feeling your magic intensity spike immensely. Yuri carries you out, exhausted from the fight and the escape and he gently kneels down until he's sitting comfortably with you in his arms. He cradled you close to him, all in an attempt to keep you warm. As the magic in the air that was released from the imbalance tried to find a medium to exist through, your body temperature was gradually dropping as though the magic itself was sucking the life out of you. What, Ela hesitated and gently touched you with his nose, only to recoil, and he muttered, What happened? I can tell the Sorcerer's presence is gone.. does that mean? Yuri doesn't respond, but he nods instead. His answer was weak, and his hands were trembling from the immensity of his emotions and he softly whispered, "Please, save her." Ela looked at you, and his normally closed eyes open, and instead of the familiar bright arctic blue that once dazzled with life and radiance, it was dull, a mere shell of its former brilliance. The wolf gently sniffs you and mumbled, There is nothing I can do to save her... Even if I sacrifice my life for hers, it wouldn't be enough. Ela lowered his head and softly asked, Mistress.. did you foresee this outcome? Is this truly the only way for the wars to end? Your eyelids fluttered open upon hearing your familiar's voice and with your good right hand, you gently rest it on his head. You thumbed over his head and gently rubbed behind his ear. Ela let out a small whimper and leaned into your touch. Please don't leave. I haven't had a chance to get to know you long enough.. This isn't fair to us. You managed to crack a smile, but it quickly fades away as you cough out more blood, and you softly whispered, "It's a miracle I'm still barely alive... but once the magic reaches its capacity within me.. it'll all end." Yuri shook his head, and his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. He brings you closer, and you're surprised to find teardrops falling onto you. You glanced up, and he can only mutter, "Why?" His voice cracked and you can tell he's doing everything in his power to hold himself back. But it all releases like a dam that has been keeping back torrents and torrents of water. "I-I've spent a-almost my entire l-life looking f-for you," his mask of cold indifference crumbled away, and his vulnerability and heart was worn on his sleeve. "All I ever wanted was to save you from- from-" "Yuratchka." "It's not fair, why did this have to happen like this?" Yuri cried out as he sobbed against your shoulder. You bit back the tears to the best of your ability, but in the end, you lose. Your tears streamed silently down your cheeks and you can do nothing but lay there, lifeless as you could practically feel your impending doom. "I.. I'm so sorry," your voice cracked against his ear and you whispered, "I just wanted to save you.. and everyone else. I just-" you paused and you can feel the magic slowly reaching its peak, and you shuddered, "I just wanted you to be happy again, and free." Yuri immediately pulled back and he shook his head, "No, [F/N], I just found you, please." "I'm sorry," your voice was like a whisper on the wind, and if Yuri wasn't so close to you, he probably wouldn't have heard the last words, "Please know that I loved you." And I wish... that we could meet again in a better life.

[almightygodismydependence-blog]

The Secret Tip to Resolving Hatred

Xiao Wu

I was self-employed. Mainly I sold all kinds of textiles, and I also made clothes for my customers part-time. After a few years, my business became more and more popular, and people around me were all very envious. Later, a neighboring household opened the same kind of shop as mine and became my competitor. Naturally, the business in my shop was affected. The popular proverb says two of a trade never agree, but my peer was not just anyone, but my most trusted pupil, Xiaochen.

Not only did Xiaochen open the same store next to my house, she even waited outside of her shop to intentionally steal my business. Whenever she saw somebody pass by the shop, she approached them and greeted them enthusiastically, guiding them into the shop, and she even purposefully said awful things about me. Seeing Xiaochen do everything she could to steal my business, I regretted taking her as my pupil and started hating her from my heart. When I saw her, I was unwilling to approach or talk to her, and sometimes I would even say some bad things about her in front of customers, or I would intentionally give customers a discount to bring back repeat customers, so that I could reduce her clients. But because we were neighbors, we could not avoid running into each other. As time passed, I became more and more pained and repressed in my heart, and my hate for her became deeper and deeper. It reached the point that whenever I looked at her, my heart became awfully choked, and my whole mind was occupied with thoughts of how to deal with her. Even when I dreamed, I dreamed I was fighting her. I was living so painfully at that time!

In 2002, I heard my schoolmate say that believing in Jesus could bring peace and happiness, that it could broaden our hearts so that we no longer harbored hatred, so I believed in the Lord Jesus. I saw that the Lord Jesus said: “But I say to you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which spitefully use you. And to him that smites you on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that takes away your cloak forbid not to take your coat also” (Luk 6:27-29). From the Lord’s words I saw that the Lord has an unlimited and boundless love for us. He has unlimited tolerance, patience, and forgiveness for us. Didn’t the Lord already practice out these things that He required us to do? The Lord’s love deeply encouraged me, so I wanted to follow the Lord’s teachings, and I tried to tolerate Xiaochen, and not to quarrel with her. But in real life, I still hated her uncontrollably, and I could not practice the Lord’s word at all. When I thought that the Bible said that hating somebody is like killing them, I felt even more pain. I thought: I want to forgive Xiaochen, but why is it that I simply could not do it? I believe in the Lord and I know His demands, but why can’t I put the Lord’s word into practice? I lived in pain, and I could not extricate myself.

Soon, in 2003, I had the fortune to accept God’s work in the last days. In a gathering, a sister read a part of God’s word directed toward my difficulty: “Man was only saved and forgiven his sins for his faith, but the sinful nature of man was not taken away and still remained within him. … This requires man to understand the path of growth in life, the way of life, and the way to change his disposition. It also needs man to act in accordance with this path so that the disposition of man can gradually be changed and he can live under the shining of the light, and that he can do all things in accord with the will of God, cast away the corrupt satanic disposition, and break free from Satan’s influence of darkness, thereby emerging fully from sin. Only then will man receive complete salvation” (“The Mystery of the Incarnation (4)” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). She also fellowshiped to me: “During the Age of Grace, the Lord Jesus did a step of redemptive work. The sin of us humans was only forgiven, so that we were no longer sentenced by the laws. However, our sinful nature still remained, and it had not been resolved. It is like you living in hatred to Xiaochen, you can only control your external behavior to not insult her, but you have not resolved the source of hatred in your heart. We humans have been corrupted by Satan for thousands of years, and we have been completely taken over by all kinds of satanic poisons. Satanic philosophies and laws such as “Heaven destroys those who are not for themselves,” and “A man dies for money; a bird dies for food” have become our life and our nature. We uncontrollably rely on these things to live, so we have all become selfish, self-interested, and only interested in profit. We fight and argue over our own interests and become jealous and hateful, causing us to uncontrollably commit sins and oppose God. Although in our heart we want to practice the Lord’s word, because we are bound and limited by satanic nature, we cannot put them into practice and we live in unbearable pain. In the last days Almighty God comes to resolve the root problem of us corrupt humans committing sins, to completely rescue us from Satan’s domain. For this purpose, God speaks words to perform the work of judging and purifying man, so that, through the judgment and chastisement of God’s word, we recognize our own satanic nature, come to understand that God’s righteous disposition is beyond reproach, gradually come to revere God, no longer live by Satan’s poison, seek the truth in all things, live on God’s word, and replace our own corrupt disposition with practicing the truth. In this way, we can live out a normal humanity, we can know how to act and how to conduct ourselves in contact with others. When we have left the bondage of Satan’s authority and are no longer controlled by our corrupt disposition, then we are living in release and freedom. Sister, if you often read the word of the Almighty God, experience God’s judgment and chastisement, often pray to God, ask God to protect your heart, then you will surely be able to let go of the hatred in your heart, break away from Satan’s corrupt disposition, and live relaxed and free. So, you must have confidence in God….”

After listening to the sister’s fellowship, I understood that the reason I was never able to resolve the hatred in my heart while believing in the Lord Jesus is because the Lord Jesus only performed the work of redeeming sin, but not the work of casting away sin. This is why the satanic nature and corrupt disposition within me have not yet been removed. Only Almighty God’s work of judgment in the last days can fully cleanse and transform me, rescuing me from sin! Having understood this, I became confident again about how to resolve the hatred between Xiaochen and me, and I made up my mind to properly pursue the truth and shed the satanic corrupt disposition soon.

One day, I saw God’s word saying: “Cruel, brutal mankind! The conniving and intrigue, the jostling with each other, the scramble for reputation and fortune, the mutual slaughter—when will it ever end? … How many do not act for the sake of their own interests? How many do not oppress and discriminate against others for the sake of maintaining their own status? ” (“The Wicked Must Be Punished” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). After reading God’s word, I began to self-reflect. Why is it that I keep living in hatred to Xiaochen? Isn’t it just because she stole my business and this affected my own interests? In order to get more money and have one less competitor, all I thought about was how to exclude her and resent her, and I even had dark thoughts about her. In the past, I thought that my hatred of her had a reason. She offended me first, so that’s why I hated her to this extent. Now, I know that this is caused by my own selfish nature. Having recognized these things, I quickly prayed to God: “God, only now do I know that I hate Xiaochen because I have a selfish nature within me. God, I am willing to rebel against myself, I am unwilling to live by my satanic nature. I hope that You can help me, so that I can let go of my hatred to Xiaochen and live out a normal humanity.”

In order to help me walk out of hatred, God arranged a situation for me. One day, Xiaochen was refurbishing her kitchen, and it took up the stairwell passageway shared between our two houses. Looking at this, I felt angry in my heart, that she was really pushing it too far. After stealing my business, now she was coming to take over my territory. This was really getting more and more out of hand! When I wanted to argue with her, I suddenly remembered that God said: “God is forever supreme and ever honorable, while man is forever base, forever worthless. This is because God is forever making sacrifices and devoting Himself to mankind; man, however, forever takes and strives only for himself. … for the effort of man is always for his own sake and not for others. Man is always selfish, while God is forever selfless. God is the source of all that is just, good, and beautiful, while man is he who succeeds to and makes manifest all ugliness and evil” (“It Is Very Important to Understand God’s Disposition” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). Yes, God’s love is too selfless. God is incarnated into flesh twice only to save us humans. God has paid the absolute price so that we can achieve salvation. In the past, He sacrificed Himself on the cross for the salvation of humanity, and now He is incarnated into flesh again, enduring people’s resistance, condemnation, persecution, and defamation to perform work and save people, all without complaints or regrets and never asking us to repay Him. God’s life substance is so beautiful, so lovable, so worthy of our admiration and worship! And I have been corrupted by Satan to be too selfish and despicable, too cunning and evil, and I lived by Satan’s poison, “Fight for every inch of land and seize every bit you can get.” As long as it relates to a bit of my profits, I would fight with others, haggle over every penny, and I cannot take any losses. I see what I live out is exactly the same as Satan’s, as if I am a living demon. Now, God has pointed out a path to changing my life disposition. I ought to practice it in accordance to God’s word, rebel against Satan, and no longer live by Satan’s poison. So, I prayed to God: “God, the matter that I encounter today is set up by You for me. I am willing to live out Your word, and no longer live by Satan’s poison. I hope that You will grant me confidence and strength, so I will no longer be fooled by Satan and let go of my hatred to Xiaochen in my heart.” After praying, my heart gradually became calmer, and I felt incomparably secure in my heart. At that moment, I felt for the first time that letting go of hatred could be so relaxing and releasing.

Having had this experience, I was more willing to live my life in accordance to God’s word, and I was no longer willing to be fooled or corrupted by Satan. One morning, Xiaochen’s shop hadn’t opened yet, and I heard somebody yelling outside, “Miss Tailor! Open the door quickly!” I opened it up and had a look, and it turned out to be Xiaochen’s customer coming to pick up clothes from her shop. The customer saw that I opened the door, asking me if Xiaochen was at home. At this moment, I remembered something that happened before: One day, I was cleaning upstairs, and a customer came to look for me downstairs. Even though he knew I was at home, Xiaochen’s husband didn’t tell the customer. Thinking of this, I felt angry, and I didn’t want to tell the customer about the fact that Xiaochen’s at home. Then I remembered God’s word said: “You ought to know that God likes an honest man. … To be honest is to refrain from impurity in your actions and words, and to deceive neither God nor man” (“Three Admonitions” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). “When you rebel against the flesh, there will inevitably be a battle within you. Satan will try and make you follow it, will try and make you follow the conceptions of the flesh and uphold the interests of the flesh—but God’s words will enlighten and illuminate you within, and at this time it is up to you whether you follow God or follow Satan” (“Only Loving God Is Truly Believing in God” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). The enlightenment of God’s word allowed me to see that what I had just thought was still living by Satan’s poison. I wanted to treat Xiaochen as an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Isn’t this still living within Satan’s corrupt disposition? God asks us to be an honest person and not lie or deceive people, but Satan allows me to act in accordance to the corrupt disposition of the flesh. Should I follow Satan and satisfy the flesh, or should I rebel against Satan, practice the truth, and satisfy God? At this moment, I felt God observing my every word, every act, and each and every movement. No, I must rebel against the flesh and practice the truth to satisfy God. Thinking of this, I told the customer calmly, “If you’re looking for Miss Xiaochen, she’s at home, just wait for a bit and she’ll come out.” When I practiced this, I felt very secure in my heart.

Later, when repeat customers came to my house to make clothes but I was too busy and couldn’t manage it, I would introduce them to Xiaochen’s shop. When she found out later, she was also very touched. Finally, one day, when she saw me, she deliberated for a long time, and then called excitedly out, “Master!” This “Master” made me feel extremely warm inside. Ever since she opened her shop next to my house, she had never called me Master once. I knew at that moment that the reason we could resolve our hatred was because of the effect achieved by God’s word. Otherwise, the hatred between us could only get deeper and deeper. Thank God! All glory and praise be to Almighty God!

Recommended： 4 Principles on How to Be Closer to God

[almightygod-mybeloved-blog]

The Secret Tip to Resolving Hatred (Audio Essay)

                                                  Xiao Wu

I was self-employed. Mainly I sold all kinds of textiles, and I also made clothes for my customers part-time. After a few years, my business became more and more popular, and people around me were all very envious. Later, a neighboring household opened the same kind of shop as mine and became my competitor. Naturally, the business in my shop was affected. The popular proverb says two of a trade never agree, but my peer was not just anyone, but my most trusted pupil, Xiaochen.

Not only did Xiaochen open the same store next to my house, she even waited outside of her shop to intentionally steal my business. Whenever she saw somebody pass by the shop, she approached them and greeted them enthusiastically, guiding them into the shop, and she even purposefully said awful things about me. Seeing Xiaochen do everything she could to steal my business, I regretted taking her as my pupil and started hating her from my heart. When I saw her, I was unwilling to approach or talk to her, and sometimes I would even say some bad things about her in front of customers, or I would intentionally give customers a discount to bring back repeat customers, so that I could reduce her clients. But because we were neighbors, we could not avoid running into each other. As time passed, I became more and more pained and repressed in my heart, and my hate for her became deeper and deeper. It reached the point that whenever I looked at her, my heart became awfully choked, and my whole mind was occupied with thoughts of how to deal with her. Even when I dreamed, I dreamed I was fighting her. I was living so painfully at that time!

In 2002, I heard my schoolmate say that believing in Jesus could bring peace and happiness, that it could broaden our hearts so that we no longer harbored hatred, so I believed in the Lord Jesus. I saw that the Lord Jesus said: “But I say to you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which spitefully use you. And to him that smites you on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that takes away your cloak forbid not to take your coat also” (Luk 6:27-29). From the Lord’s words I saw that the Lord has an unlimited and boundless love for us. He has unlimited tolerance, patience, and forgiveness for us. Didn’t the Lord already practice out these things that He required us to do? The Lord’s love deeply encouraged me, so I wanted to follow the Lord’s teachings, and I tried to tolerate Xiaochen, and not to quarrel with her. But in real life, I still hated her uncontrollably, and I could not practice the Lord’s word at all. When I thought that the Bible said that hating somebody is like killing them, I felt even more pain. I thought: I want to forgive Xiaochen, but why is it that I simply could not do it? I believe in the Lord and I know His demands, but why can’t I put the Lord’s word into practice? I lived in pain, and I could not extricate myself.

Soon, in 2003, I had the fortune to accept God’s work in the last days. In a gathering, a sister read a part of God’s word directed toward my difficulty: “Man was only saved and forgiven his sins for his faith, but the sinful nature of man was not taken away and still remained within him. … This requires man to understand the path of growth in life, the way of life, and the way to change his disposition. It also needs man to act in accordance with this path so that the disposition of man can gradually be changed and he can live under the shining of the light, and that he can do all things in accord with the will of God, cast away the corrupt satanic disposition, and break free from Satan’s influence of darkness, thereby emerging fully from sin. Only then will man receive complete salvation” (“The Mystery of the Incarnation (4)” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). She also fellowshiped to me: “During the Age of Grace, the Lord Jesus did a step of redemptive work. The sin of us humans was only forgiven, so that we were no longer sentenced by the laws. However, our sinful nature still remained, and it had not been resolved. It is like you living in hatred to Xiaochen, you can only control your external behavior to not insult her, but you have not resolved the source of hatred in your heart. We humans have been corrupted by Satan for thousands of years, and we have been completely taken over by all kinds of satanic poisons. Satanic philosophies and laws such as “Heaven destroys those who are not for themselves,” and “A man dies for money; a bird dies for food” have become our life and our nature. We uncontrollably rely on these things to live, so we have all become selfish, self-interested, and only interested in profit. We fight and argue over our own interests and become jealous and hateful, causing us to uncontrollably commit sins and oppose God. Although in our heart we want to practice the Lord’s word, because we are bound and limited by satanic nature, we cannot put them into practice and we live in unbearable pain. In the last days Almighty God comes to resolve the root problem of us corrupt humans committing sins, to completely rescue us from Satan’s domain. For this purpose, God speaks words to perform the work of judging and purifying man, so that, through the judgment and chastisement of c we recognize our own satanic nature, come to understand that God’s righteous disposition is beyond reproach, gradually come to revere God, no longer live by Satan’s poison, seek the truth in all things, live on God’s word, and replace our own corrupt disposition with practicing the truth. In this way, we can live out a normal humanity, we can know how to act and how to conduct ourselves in contact with others. When we have left the bondage of Satan’s authority and are no longer controlled by our corrupt disposition, then we are living in release and freedom. Sister, if you often read the word of the Almighty God, experience c and chastisement, often pray to God, ask God to protect your heart, then you will surely be able to let go of the hatred in your heart, break away from Satan’s corrupt disposition, and live relaxed and free. So, you must have confidence in God….”

After listening to the sister’s fellowship, I understood that the reason I was never able to resolve the hatred in my heart while believing in the Lord Jesus is because the Lord Jesus only performed the work of redeeming sin, but not the work of casting away sin. This is why the satanic nature and corrupt disposition within me have not yet been removed. Only Almighty God’s work of judgment in the last days can fully cleanse and transform me, rescuing me from sin! Having understood this, I became confident again about how to resolve the hatred between Xiaochen and me, and I made up my mind to properly pursue the truth and shed the satanic corrupt disposition soon.

One day, I saw God’s word saying: “Cruel, brutal mankind! The conniving and intrigue, the jostling with each other, the scramble for reputation and fortune, the mutual slaughter—when will it ever end? … How many do not act for the sake of their own interests? How many do not oppress and discriminate against others for the sake of maintaining their own status? ” (“The Wicked Must Be Punished” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). After reading God’s word, I began to self-reflect. Why is it that I keep living in hatred to Xiaochen? Isn’t it just because she stole my business and this affected my own interests? In order to get more money and have one less competitor, all I thought about was how to exclude her and resent her, and I even had dark thoughts about her. In the past, I thought that my hatred of her had a reason. She offended me first, so that’s why I hated her to this extent. Now, I know that this is caused by my own selfish nature. Having recognized these things, I quickly prayed to God: “God, only now do I know that I hate Xiaochen because I have a selfish nature within me. God, I am willing to rebel against myself, I am unwilling to live by my satanic nature. I hope that You can help me, so that I can let go of my hatred to Xiaochen and live out a normal humanity.”

In order to help me walk out of hatred, God arranged a situation for me. One day, Xiaochen was refurbishing her kitchen, and it took up the stairwell passageway shared between our two houses. Looking at this, I felt angry in my heart, that she was really pushing it too far. After stealing my business, now she was coming to take over my territory. This was really getting more and more out of hand! When I wanted to argue with her, I suddenly remembered that God said: “God is forever supreme and ever honorable, while man is forever base, forever worthless. This is because God is forever making sacrifices and devoting Himself to mankind; man, however, forever takes and strives only for himself. … for the effort of man is always for his own sake and not for others. Man is always selfish, while God is forever selfless. God is the source of all that is just, good, and beautiful, while man is he who succeeds to and makes manifest all ugliness and evil” (“It Is Very Important to Understand God’s Disposition” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). Yes, God’s love is too selfless. God is incarnated into flesh twice only to save us humans. God has paid the absolute price so that we can achieve salvation. In the past, He sacrificed Himself on the cross for the salvation of humanity, and now He is incarnated into flesh again, enduring people’s resistance, condemnation, persecution, and defamation to perform work and save people, all without complaints or regrets and never asking us to repay Him. God’s life substance is so beautiful, so lovable, so worthy of our admiration and worship! And I have been corrupted by Satan to be too selfish and despicable, too cunning and evil, and I lived by Satan’s poison, “Fight for every inch of land and seize every bit you can get.” As long as it relates to a bit of my profits, I would fight with others, haggle over every penny, and I cannot take any losses. I see what I live out is exactly the same as Satan’s, as if I am a living demon. Now, God has pointed out a path to changing my life disposition. I ought to practice it in accordance to God’s word, rebel against Satan, and no longer live by Satan’s poison. So, I prayed to God: “God, the matter that I encounter today is set up by You for me. I am willing to live out Your word, and no longer live by Satan’s poison. I hope that You will grant me confidence and strength, so I will no longer be fooled by Satan and let go of my hatred to Xiaochen in my heart.” After praying, my heart gradually became calmer, and I felt incomparably secure in my heart. At that moment, I felt for the first time that letting go of hatred could be so relaxing and releasing.

Having had this experience, I was more willing to live my life in accordance to God’s word, and I was no longer willing to be fooled or corrupted by Satan. One morning, Xiaochen’s shop hadn’t opened yet, and I heard somebody yelling outside, “Miss Tailor! Open the door quickly!” I opened it up and had a look, and it turned out to be Xiaochen’s customer coming to pick up clothes from her shop. The customer saw that I opened the door, asking me if Xiaochen was at home. At this moment, I remembered something that happened before: One day, I was cleaning upstairs, and a customer came to look for me downstairs. Even though he knew I was at home, Xiaochen’s husband didn’t tell the customer. Thinking of this, I felt angry, and I didn’t want to tell the customer about the fact that Xiaochen’s at home. Then I remembered God’s word said: “You ought to know that God likes an honest man. … To be honest is to refrain from impurity in your actions and words, and to deceive neither God nor man” (“Three Admonitions” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). “When you rebel against the flesh, there will inevitably be a battle within you. Satan will try and make you follow it, will try and make you follow the conceptions of the flesh and uphold the interests of the flesh—but God’s words will enlighten and illuminate you within, and at this time it is up to you whether you follow God or follow Satan” (“Only Loving God Is Truly Believing in God” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). The enlightenment of God’s word allowed me to see that what I had just thought was still living by Satan’s poison. I wanted to treat Xiaochen as an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Isn’t this still living within Satan’s corrupt disposition? God asks us to be an honest person and not lie or deceive people, but Satan allows me to act in accordance to the corrupt disposition of the flesh. Should I follow Satan and satisfy the flesh, or should I rebel against Satan, practice the truth, and satisfy God? At this moment, I felt God observing my every word, every act, and each and every movement. No, I must rebel against the flesh and practice the truth to satisfy God. Thinking of this, I told the customer calmly, “If you’re looking for Miss Xiaochen, she’s at home, just wait for a bit and she’ll come out.” When I practiced this, I felt very secure in my heart.

Later, when repeat customers came to my house to make clothes but I was too busy and couldn’t manage it, I would introduce them to Xiaochen’s shop. When she found out later, she was also very touched. Finally, one day, when she saw me, she deliberated for a long time, and then called excitedly out, “Master!” This “Master” made me feel extremely warm inside. Ever since she opened her shop next to my house, she had never called me Master once. I knew at that moment that the reason we could resolve our hatred was because of the effect achieved by God’s word. Otherwise, the hatred between us could only get deeper and deeper. Thank God! All glory and praise be to Almighty God!

[cheerysociopath-blog]

Drabble#4

He’d seen dying people before now, the same as he had seen corpses; some of them, the dying and the dead, had been friends. Some had been family. Some had been enemies he had never known the name of, only that they were on the opposing side.

He’d seen buildings come crashing down, a thick smog rising like mist and billowing outwards, and he’d helped demolish them. He’d helped build new ones which were cold and out of place in comparison.

How many terrors can one man bear witness to and hide behind a smile, a shrug, and a deeply burning hatred? The answer is legion. Uncountable. Unnumbered. Yet walking in to that ward, peeking behind the drawn curtains to see a sick face? That broke him. It broke him when he heard she was getting worse and her body was not responding to treatment.

After that he didn’t visit for a long while. He was argued with, resented, and chastised for it, but he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t look after Sam so he let Grammy take her. He couldn’t even look after himself. Life spiraled out of control, out of meaning, and it went down, down, down.  His compassionate leave was spent doing what no man like him should: he cowered at home, avoided all responsibility, and stopped fighting for once. He gave in and splintered.

An afternoon call changed that however; it opened his eyes. They were already blinded by the harsh truth, but they could still see that now was the time. He had to return there and face his demons. He had to be brave.

“She’s a very sick woman and right now, we can’t really tell you how long she has left. The cancer has spread and with the condition she’s in now, we don’t want to give her any more chemotherapy; her body cannot handle the recovery. The calcium levels in her blood  are still at a high, though they are fluctuating with medication, but we cannot operate this time. She’s far too weak. It might be wise to start making everybody aware...”

She had never been weak. That word did not describe the person he knew and loved. But then again, things were changing: he himself couldn’t be strong as he always had been. Nobody could. Strength was an ocean they had once bathed in, but now the tide was out. Now, the ocean was dry. There was a drought, a tap had been left on somewhere, and the banks were filled with thirsty beggars.

When he peeked past the curtains again, after so long, he nearly turned and walked back out. Nearly left and just vanished; her face was so white that it had a yellow tinge, her clumps of hair matted and dry, and she breathed with the noise of a rattlesnake. But she had seen him, so he couldn’t run away.

Her heavy eyes sparked dimly and frailly she smiled from her bed. “Baby... you came at last...” she breathed, not hating him the way everyone else did for running away. Even now, she forgave his selfish ways and loved him. Whatever he had been able to glue in place for this moment shattered and his emotions dribbled out through his eyes. 

At her bedside now, holding her hand tightly in his, forcing himself to behold her fading face. She was several shades of a shadow of herself now, beautiful in a tragic way that made him both love and hate her; not that this was any of her fault, but a part of him despised her just for not being able to fight this, win, and come home to him and Sam.

“I seen this guy in the hallway,” he weakly smiled, “all in black. Had a cowl and a scythe. He said he wasn’t comin’ to this ward, that I could keep you. He said he wasn’t gunna tango with you.” A joke made softly, as though uttering a prayer, and it was. Just in his own words. This was the only way he could manage to tell her she’d get better, knowing it to be a lie that he wanted to be true.

She was too weak to laugh, so instead she gave a fluttering smile. “I’ve had a good life... no regrets.”

He looked away, hating those words. There was only one regret anybody should have when they die, and that was that they were dying. That the end had come, the dream was over. “Don’t talk like that,” he mumbled with a sniffle. The smell of the ward was beginning to get to him: he hated hospitals, feared them really. He swore they had a smell, that he could smell the sickness in the air.  He felt like he needed a shower.

“The doctor explained it all to me, Beck... and I don’t even care anymore. I’m just... I’m tired now. I don’t care about anythin’ anymore... just that you take good care of Sam and... and yourself.”

“I can’t do it without you,” he said, the final word coming out as a warble that made him stop, taking a deep breathe. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Can’t do nothin’ without you.”

“You listen to me,” she said with as much strength as she could. He looked at her once more and saw she was holding her tired eyes open as wide as possible, trying not to fall asleep so she wouldn’t waste this visit. Trying to be defiant, the way she was born to be. “You’re gunna love our baby and you’re gunna make a good home for her... you’re gunna be a dad to her like always, you’re not gunna stop. You’re gunna live and maybe... maybe one day, you’ll meet somebody else... but they won’t be as good as me. You do it, Beck, or... or so help me, I’ll haunt your ass. You hear? If you ever... ever loved me...” and she crumbled all over again, letting her tears fall. She wasn’t sad nor angry. She was terrified for him and their daughter.

She turned her head away. “D-Do what I say and do it right, Beck. My momma and daddy will h-h-help you out, but... don’t you ever give it all over to them. Don’t you do th-that.”

He began crying all over again, his heavy heart screaming no, but he made himself nod. “I will,” he said, just to make her feel better. Just to cure her and leech the poison from her.

“Promise me... promise me, Beck...” she breathed sleepily, her face turning groggily towards him. Her eyes were struggling to stay open but they would not close. Not until he promised; because he always kept his promises and had never made one he couldn’t fulfill. She knew, she knew if he promised he would do it.

He looked away, wiping at his nose and face, not wanting to. Promising it meant he would have to do it, and he didn’t believe he could. He didn’t believe he could be a good parent all by himself and he didn’t believe he could go on living after this. His world was crashing around him and all he could do was watch. Powerless to stop it. This was a battle he could not win.

“Beck...” she breathed with a touch more passion, her hand twitching in his.

“I promise you,” he heard himself say, miles away from this moment and hiding away. It hurt like hell but he did it anyway. He had always been a fool for her, so why stop now?

When he looked over at her again after some silent moments, she was sleeping fitfully, looking pained. Yet he didn’t dare run away now; he no longer wanted to run from her or the end of the dream. He wanted to watch, the same way he had years before with faces that he had known or never met before. He wanted to witness. All because he was petrified of the idea of living with regret, that he hadn’t been there for her when she truly needed him. He’d abandoned her for long enough, spent long enough in his own pit of despair; now he had to be brave again.

He couldn’t win this battle, no, but the war afterwards, living in the aftermath and doing the right thing, was a war he could fight his damn hardest to win. For her. For Sam. For the dream they had once believed would last forever. 

[cedarrrun]

Yoga teacher Benny James shares how he learned to stand in his truth.

Yoga teacher Benny James grew up wearing baggy clothing and deepening his voice in order to blend in with straight men and avoid altercations. Now, he's giving himself the space he needs to heal his trauma.

I am a gay man who has known my sexual orientation since I was 10 years old. Back then, I befriended the popular guys at school because I had crushes on them. I loved adorning my mom’s purple chiffon sundress. I was a ballet dancer. Watching the girls who practiced in the class before mine, I looked up to their power and femininity. But I didn’t dare tell anyone my secret, for fear of rejection by my family and community. Growing up in Colorado Springs, where megachurches ran conversion therapy camps (the practice was finally outlawed in May, making Colorado the 18th state to ban conversion therapy for minors), I’d overheard plenty of men say horrific things like, “I’ll kill a faggot if they ever try to touch me.”

Despite all that, at 16, I decided it was time to start the coming-out process. I remember seeing my two best friends, both female, cuddled up on the couch with their boyfriends and yearning for a fulfilling romantic relationship of my own. I came out to them first, and they were absolutely elated for me. Within two months, they fixed me up with a cute guy who became my first boyfriend. Next I decided to tell my coworkers. They, too, made me feel so accepted that I started building up the courage to tell my parents and my older brother. I believed my family would offer the same support.

It happened by accident: My parents caught me kissing my boyfriend in the driveway—we were teenagers, after all. That night, my dad drove my boyfriend home and told him he would never see me again; my mom cried and told me how much I’d disappointed her. I was grounded for a year, and they started chastising me for smiling, laughing, or talking in my naturally effeminate way.

See also LGBT History Month: One Yoga Teacher's Coming Out Story

Since I had flamboyant mannerisms, my sexual orientation didn’t seem to be much of a secret. Strangers made fun of me. Families moved tables at restaurants so as to not be near me. Sometimes, if I glanced at a man in passing, he’d puff up and say something like, “Keep looking at me, and I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

I started wearing baggy jeans and hoodies—anything that I could hide behind. I tried to deepen my voice and quit smiling. My resentment was quickening into anger. For years, my parents forced me to take part in sports and activities that they considered masculine, such as baseball, basketball, and karate, even though I was truly only interested in ballet. While everyone was required to watch my brother’s wrestling matches, only my mother (begrudgingly, I felt) attended my recitals—my father made it clear that he wasn’t interested. It was devastating to know my dad deemed me a lesser male, so much so that he largely removed himself from my life.

Furious that I had to take on an alternate personality just to avoid altercations with men who felt uncomfortable around me, I fell into a deep, manic depression. I was mixing sleeping pills, mood stabilizers, and over-the-counter cold medications I had found in my parents’ medicine cabinets. I was huffing any solvent-based chemical I found tossed in the garage. I obsessed over the idea of ending my own life. (Gay, lesbian, and bisexual high school students are more than four times as likely to attempt suicide and nearly three times as likely to make a plan to die by suicide than their heterosexual peers, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)

See also Yoga Transformed Me After Suicidal Thoughts

When I turned 17, an opportunity came along that changed my life. An artistic director saw me perform at a dance convention and recruited me to dance in her professional ballet company. (Years later, she’d tell me that she fell in love with the way I’d poured my anguish and fury into my artistry.) I decided to finish high school online so I could explore dance full time. Because I was still grounded, I had to be at home when I wasn’t at the dance studio working. But it provided me with a cover to recuperate my social life: I’d tell my parents I was at work when I was out with my friends and my boyfriend.

The professional dance world—in which no one is ever good enough—was a refuge in some sense, but it also created even more mental dysfunction. I danced in front of a mirror all day observing my body, which only reinforced the idea that I needed to be something other than myself: skinnier, stronger, better at high jumps.

After several months of dancing, I started attending hot power flows at a local yoga studio as a way to cross-train and prevent injuries. One day, after I’d been practicing five times a week for about a year, my male yoga teacher guided us into Child’s Pose and asked, “When are you going to stop running away from yourself and begin the long journey home?” And just like that, I started sobbing. I’d run so far away from my identity that I didn’t even know how to start looking for myself again. I looked to my yoga teacher: With his eloquent philosophy and his confidence in who he was—long hair, flowing clothing, and gentle mannerisms—he started to show me that men could be vulnerable and accepted. He was a metaphor for possibilities beyond my struggle.

See also Try This Sequence to Confront Your Fears and Unleash Your Inner Warrior

After high school, I danced on cruise ships, traveling to Europe, New England, the Caribbean, and Alaska. I also went to India to visit ashrams and completed teacher trainings in yogic studies in traditional Hatha Yoga. On the ship, I’d gather people and lead yoga classes, which helped me sort through my life. If I noticed I was feeling depressed, I’d use yoga to help unpack it. This allowed me to ask myself: “What does unfettered Benny look like?”

Fifteen years later, I returned to Colorado Springs hoping to create a life teaching yoga while training to be a massage therapist. After finding success around the world, I thought I’d get a second chance at experiencing unconditional love and acceptance from my family. My yoga classes were gaining traction, and I’d met a man—an energy healer—who would become my fiancé. But my parents were unwilling to speak with me about our painful past. As a yoga teacher, I had followed in the footsteps of my first teacher, who guided others to their true selves, where they have always been whole. Through this work, I realized I had to come to terms with the fact that in my hometown I was still boxed into an identity that hadn’t evolved since I’d left. To step into my full brilliance, I had to flee once again—and cut ties with my parents. It was difficult but empowering, because I yearned for a joyful, authentic life.

See also Jacoby Ballard: Personal Transformation + Healing Yoga

Today, my partner and I are exploring what it means to be free in a new city—St. Petersburg, Florida. We’ve both taken a step back from our work healing others to allow ourselves the time and space to fully recover from past traumas. Enjoying a slow-paced lifestyle near the beach, we paint, sculpt, draw, write, cook, dance, and do whatever else bubbles up in our hearts. Together, we are able to lift each other up to our highest purpose.

More recently, there have been a lot of men in my life who are ready to do the work necessary to create a new paradigm for living consciously, free from damaging expectations and stereotypes. They listen to the conversations that call out their toxic behavior and hold themselves and others accountable. My days of enduring bullying or aggressive comments are behind me—or perhaps I don’t notice them anymore. I’ve developed a deep love and compassion for all men, because I understand how trying to live up to societal expectations leads them astray, to a place where they cannot freely express emotion or live their highest truths.

When I consider where I started from and where I stand now, I am changed. Today I have the freedom to be, to express, to be seen, to show up, and to stand strong in who I am. Yoga never gave me the answers—it encouraged me to explore and find them within myself.

See also Practice for Pride: 7 Poses to Celebrate LGBT Pride + Promote Peace

About the author

Benny James is a yoga teacher, massage therapist, and inspirational speaker in St. Petersburg, Florida and founder of the alternative wellness company Maha Mountain. His mission is to help others find inner strength to uncover a life that they love. Learn more at mahamountain.com.

[krisiunicornio]

Yoga teacher Benny James shares how he learned to stand in his truth.

Yoga teacher Benny James grew up wearing baggy clothing and deepening his voice in order to blend in with straight men and avoid altercations. Now, he's giving himself the space he needs to heal his trauma.

I am a gay man who has known my sexual orientation since I was 10 years old. Back then, I befriended the popular guys at school because I had crushes on them. I loved adorning my mom’s purple chiffon sundress. I was a ballet dancer. Watching the girls who practiced in the class before mine, I looked up to their power and femininity. But I didn’t dare tell anyone my secret, for fear of rejection by my family and community. Growing up in Colorado Springs, where megachurches ran conversion therapy camps (the practice was finally outlawed in May, making Colorado the 18th state to ban conversion therapy for minors), I’d overheard plenty of men say horrific things like, “I’ll kill a faggot if they ever try to touch me.”

Despite all that, at 16, I decided it was time to start the coming-out process. I remember seeing my two best friends, both female, cuddled up on the couch with their boyfriends and yearning for a fulfilling romantic relationship of my own. I came out to them first, and they were absolutely elated for me. Within two months, they fixed me up with a cute guy who became my first boyfriend. Next I decided to tell my coworkers. They, too, made me feel so accepted that I started building up the courage to tell my parents and my older brother. I believed my family would offer the same support.

It happened by accident: My parents caught me kissing my boyfriend in the driveway—we were teenagers, after all. That night, my dad drove my boyfriend home and told him he would never see me again; my mom cried and told me how much I’d disappointed her. I was grounded for a year, and they started chastising me for smiling, laughing, or talking in my naturally effeminate way.

See also LGBT History Month: One Yoga Teacher's Coming Out Story

Since I had flamboyant mannerisms, my sexual orientation didn’t seem to be much of a secret. Strangers made fun of me. Families moved tables at restaurants so as to not be near me. Sometimes, if I glanced at a man in passing, he’d puff up and say something like, “Keep looking at me, and I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

I started wearing baggy jeans and hoodies—anything that I could hide behind. I tried to deepen my voice and quit smiling. My resentment was quickening into anger. For years, my parents forced me to take part in sports and activities that they considered masculine, such as baseball, basketball, and karate, even though I was truly only interested in ballet. While everyone was required to watch my brother’s wrestling matches, only my mother (begrudgingly, I felt) attended my recitals—my father made it clear that he wasn’t interested. It was devastating to know my dad deemed me a lesser male, so much so that he largely removed himself from my life.

Furious that I had to take on an alternate personality just to avoid altercations with men who felt uncomfortable around me, I fell into a deep, manic depression. I was mixing sleeping pills, mood stabilizers, and over-the-counter cold medications I had found in my parents’ medicine cabinets. I was huffing any solvent-based chemical I found tossed in the garage. I obsessed over the idea of ending my own life. (Gay, lesbian, and bisexual high school students are more than four times as likely to attempt suicide and nearly three times as likely to make a plan to die by suicide than their heterosexual peers, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)

See also Yoga Transformed Me After Suicidal Thoughts

When I turned 17, an opportunity came along that changed my life. An artistic director saw me perform at a dance convention and recruited me to dance in her professional ballet company. (Years later, she’d tell me that she fell in love with the way I’d poured my anguish and fury into my artistry.) I decided to finish high school online so I could explore dance full time. Because I was still grounded, I had to be at home when I wasn’t at the dance studio working. But it provided me with a cover to recuperate my social life: I’d tell my parents I was at work when I was out with my friends and my boyfriend.

The professional dance world—in which no one is ever good enough—was a refuge in some sense, but it also created even more mental dysfunction. I danced in front of a mirror all day observing my body, which only reinforced the idea that I needed to be something other than myself: skinnier, stronger, better at high jumps.

After several months of dancing, I started attending hot power flows at a local yoga studio as a way to cross-train and prevent injuries. One day, after I’d been practicing five times a week for about a year, my male yoga teacher guided us into Child’s Pose and asked, “When are you going to stop running away from yourself and begin the long journey home?” And just like that, I started sobbing. I’d run so far away from my identity that I didn’t even know how to start looking for myself again. I looked to my yoga teacher: With his eloquent philosophy and his confidence in who he was—long hair, flowing clothing, and gentle mannerisms—he started to show me that men could be vulnerable and accepted. He was a metaphor for possibilities beyond my struggle.

See also Try This Sequence to Confront Your Fears and Unleash Your Inner Warrior

After high school, I danced on cruise ships, traveling to Europe, New England, the Caribbean, and Alaska. I also went to India to visit ashrams and completed teacher trainings in yogic studies in traditional Hatha Yoga. On the ship, I’d gather people and lead yoga classes, which helped me sort through my life. If I noticed I was feeling depressed, I’d use yoga to help unpack it. This allowed me to ask myself: “What does unfettered Benny look like?”

Fifteen years later, I returned to Colorado Springs hoping to create a life teaching yoga while training to be a massage therapist. After finding success around the world, I thought I’d get a second chance at experiencing unconditional love and acceptance from my family. My yoga classes were gaining traction, and I’d met a man—an energy healer—who would become my fiancé. But my parents were unwilling to speak with me about our painful past. As a yoga teacher, I had followed in the footsteps of my first teacher, who guided others to their true selves, where they have always been whole. Through this work, I realized I had to come to terms with the fact that in my hometown I was still boxed into an identity that hadn’t evolved since I’d left. To step into my full brilliance, I had to flee once again—and cut ties with my parents. It was difficult but empowering, because I yearned for a joyful, authentic life.

See also Jacoby Ballard: Personal Transformation + Healing Yoga

Today, my partner and I are exploring what it means to be free in a new city—St. Petersburg, Florida. We’ve both taken a step back from our work healing others to allow ourselves the time and space to fully recover from past traumas. Enjoying a slow-paced lifestyle near the beach, we paint, sculpt, draw, write, cook, dance, and do whatever else bubbles up in our hearts. Together, we are able to lift each other up to our highest purpose.

More recently, there have been a lot of men in my life who are ready to do the work necessary to create a new paradigm for living consciously, free from damaging expectations and stereotypes. They listen to the conversations that call out their toxic behavior and hold themselves and others accountable. My days of enduring bullying or aggressive comments are behind me—or perhaps I don’t notice them anymore. I’ve developed a deep love and compassion for all men, because I understand how trying to live up to societal expectations leads them astray, to a place where they cannot freely express emotion or live their highest truths.

When I consider where I started from and where I stand now, I am changed. Today I have the freedom to be, to express, to be seen, to show up, and to stand strong in who I am. Yoga never gave me the answers—it encouraged me to explore and find them within myself.

See also Practice for Pride: 7 Poses to Celebrate LGBT Pride + Promote Peace

About the author

Benny James is a yoga teacher, massage therapist, and inspirational speaker in St. Petersburg, Florida and founder of the alternative wellness company Maha Mountain. His mission is to help others find inner strength to uncover a life that they love. Learn more at mahamountain.com.