#echos of wisdom announcement breakdown

[hero-of-fortune]

here’s what i noticed in the NEW ZELDA GAME ANNOUNCEMENT WOOOOO

Sassy little guy. Also that sword…. Lokomo sword??? Could this be new hyrule?

idk. I’ve never played spirit tracks :(

Oh that mf is a ganon, probably not a ganondorf. Hmmm. Downfall timeline? Idk. It would be so funny if lu fandom decided to lump this one in with legend’s games. Guys… he doesn’t need anymore trauma

Let’s go! This was a fucking smart move homie link he’s already earned a spot in my heart as one of my genius scrunkies for shooting the crystal

YEAHHHHHHHH PLAYABLE ZELDAAAAA SHE LOOKS SO CUTEEEEE i know we’ve had ‘playable zelda’ before in spirit tracks and whatnot, but we’ve never had a ZELDA based game. (At least recently lmao)

(I see a bombable wall) and a really big castle! BIG CASTLE TOWN??? MINISH CAP CASTLE TOWN???? COME BACK TO ME BABY\

OKAY GUYS. Top right corner. Consider: kokiri village. if they bring the kokiri back i will scream so loud. I know it’s probably deku scrub houses because they’re also in the trailer, but let a boy dream

oh no :(((( he left his cloak behind poor baby

Okay so the triforce is back. Like really. And look at that little fairy what a scrunky duncky! I love her already

ZELDA IS WEARING LINK’S CLOAK. GUYS I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE IF I SHIP THEM. Look at herrrr also tri is massive. That is a head sized fairy.

Nothing to say but car on the roof. We got fuckin cats in zelda back. Please let us interact with them nintendooooo

THAT’S A GERUDO TOWNNNNN MASSIVE WINNNN!!!! Look at their houses they’re so cute

Um. Yeah. Ummm. @flarree predicted the ‘nice monsters that are on your side’ thing. (Go check out their au it’s really cool) i love this idea so much but i’m also a little sad… i hope they at least give zelda a bow

That is 100% a sheikah right there. Is that impa???? Please let impa be an old lady who kicks ass for her grandbaby. Also why is she fighting the soldiers lmao. Is this a alttp thing where the soldiers get brainwashed?

River and ocean zora. Yes babes im fed. You fed me nintendo it was good soup

Deku scrub selling potions. As he should. Im so glad theyre back it’s been too long babes. Give him his little hat though

GREAT DEKU TREEEE OUR FATHERRRR look at him <3 he looks a whole lot like oot gdt. Okay maybe it’s not adult timeline bc it looks nothing like wind waker gtd

Some sort of rock creature coming out of the ground? A boss? Idk we’ll see. Maybe he’s just a dude.

Other things: uhhh i don’t think we saw any mention of any sort of dungeons, which is kind of odd. Unless they slipped my mind. Huh. Maybe that last pic is a dungeon boss. I’m really excited for this one ngl. AND IT’S COMING OUT THIS YEAR????? THIS YEAR???? NINTENDO REALLY???? SEPTEMBER???? DUDE. Nintendo had officially fed me. Gooooood soup. Thanks

edit: yah there’s dungeons im blind lmaooo.

Also, i’m fairly certain it’s downfall timeline. The geography of hyrule, zelda’s dress, ganon’s design, link’s outfit, the presence of the triforce. I’m so glad the triforce is back after being absent in botw/totk!

[farr-frrom-nothing]

Zutara Week 2020 Day 3: Fuse

(And so the story continues. As always, I’m going to link Day 1 Chapter 1 here and the link for Day 2 Cahpter 2 is here. Hope everyone is enjoying Zutara week! I know I am!)

The sun rose early, blessing the skies, and the earth, and the seas with it’s radiant waterfall of golden light. But Zuko did not welcome the daylight, for he had not slept. He never slept anymore. Night after night he would roam the hallways, the alleyways, the gardens, the doorways. He would wander aimlessly through the palace, searching for something; he didn’t know. And as dawn quickly approached, as it always would, he would go to Izumi and kneel at his sleeping baby’s crib side. He would keep watch over her, ever vigilant, as he promised Mai he would. 

Izumi would always wake with cries of anguish, grief, panic; emotions an infant should never know. Zuko knew she must be searching for her mother when she awoke flailing her tiny arms and grunting impatiently. Poor little soul, he thought to himself, too young to understand where her mother has gone.

He would lovingly take her into his arms, cradling her as he hummed the soothing melody that his own mother would sing to him as a child. He would silently prayed for the patience and wisdom to raise her on his own; the strength to do it. And when she would at last be lulled into dreams, Zuko relinquished the body of his daughter to the nurse maid. The nurse maid whom had insisted on staying with Izumi all through each night so the Fire Lord might sleep. But he never did.

Only then would he retreat to his chambers, alone.

~ 

Katara and Toph had spent their morning in one of the gardens, enjoying a peaceful breakfast, and feeding crusts of bread to the family of turtleducks that had become acclimated to the girls’ presence over the last week.

“Has anyone seen Zuko this morning?” Sokka inquired, as he and Suki entered the garden.

Katara appeared distracted, though not to Sokka’s surprise. His sister had been steadily declining since winter. She didn’t sleep, she barely ate. He had hoped returning to the Fire Nation, returning to each other, may have raised her spirits. Though now he feared that all of the death surrounding her would only cause her to fall deeper into depression. 

“Katara?” he asked with concern, gripping her shoulder comfortingly.

Almost as if ripped from a daydream, Katara’s glazed eyes blinked as she struggled to regain her senses. Over her shoulder, Sokka’s creased forehead and pursed lips flashed worry in her direction. She knew he meant well, but she did not wish to be pitied.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Katara asked gently, despite her annoyance.

“He asked if anyone’s seen Zuko since last night. None of us have.” Toph spat as she folded her arms impatiently, mumbling something indiscernible under breath.

Katara wondered if she should tell them of her and Zuko’s late night bending session.

“I ran into him in the garden last night, but he didn’t stay. He was on his way to bed anyway.” She lied. Sort of.

“I just think we should be spending more time with him. He needs a distraction from everything going on.” Sokka replied as he shrugged his shoulders.

Katara felt insulted, by the word distracted. Again, she could understand her brother’s naive intentions of support, but his complete lack of any real understanding infuriated her.

“Sokka, he just lost his Uncle and his wife! That’s not something you just distract yourself from.” she spat, venom dripping from every word.

“I’m not saying that at all.” Sokka shot back, “ All I’m saying is that we came here to support him, so that’s what we should be doing.”

Katara scoffed, “Clearly you don’t know the meaning of the word support.”

Sokka studied his sister's face carefully. Despite how she wanted to be perceived, she was breaking, and he knew it. He wanted to give in to the hurt he felt festering in him, but he couldn't bring himself to blame Katara for it.

“Katara, I didn’t come all the way here to watch Zuko wallow in his grief-”

“But he has every right to his grief, Sokka! He has every right to miss them and to feel lonely, and broken, and empty, a-and-”

Sokka quickly consoled his sister, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her to his chest. He motioned with the tilt of his head for Toph and Suki to leave. Neither of them knew what was going on, but they thought it best not to ask and silently left the garden to the sounds of Katara's pained sobs.

~

Curtains flowed in the breeze, and the sunlight through the crimson fabric stained the room like blood. Zuko had always hated the color red. It reminded him of nothing pleasant; war, punishment, abandonment. Red was the color that represented his heritage, and he loathed it. He delighted in the idea of dousing his room in blue someday. Deep blue, like the color of the seas that surrounded the North and South poles. The thought tasted of rebellion and defiance. What better way to spite his father than to paint his palace blue? 

Zuko hunched over the side of his bed, his face buried in his sweating palms. More nightmares. Azula, Ozai, and lightning. Such powerful lightning. He gripped his skin fiercely, where the shape of a star still remained, like a brand on his abdomen. Katara. she had been there. He had saved her. And she had saved him.

Zuko shuffled across the floor. The stones felt as ice against the warmth of his skin. He snatched the red tunic that was draped over the post of his bed, and slipped it over his damp body. He knew he needed sleep. He was no use to his country like this, no use to his friends, no use to anyone really. Except maybe the militia’s tucked away in the mountains that wished him dead. He laughed at the thought.

Zuko had relished in the company of his friends, enjoyed their dinners, enjoyed their afternoons in the gardens, enjoyed their visits to the market, enjoyed their secret bending sessions. Katara hadn’t mentioned their late night rendezvous at the pond, so he had decided not to either. It would remain their secret; a thought that made the Fire Lord smile rather wide.

Katara had predicted Aang’s arrival the previous night, so it brought no surprise to Zuko when one of his guards sheepishly rapped against his chamber door and delivered a letter from Aang, announcing his intentions to arrive in two days time. He was, however, surprised to feel a touch of pleasant anticipation in his gut.

He hadn’t been certain how discreet Aang would be at a time like this. The Avatar was one of the Fire Lord’s dearest friends, but the airbender sometimes lacked the...maturity to appropriately handle sensitive situations; this being one of them. But after a week of Suki and Sokka (and everyone else for that matter) treating him like a fragile tea set, Zuko felt like Aang’s blunt and unwavering “optimisim” was almost welcome. Almost.

~

The Fire Nation capitol had erupted in jubilation at the news of the Avatar’s return. Aang hadn’t spent nearly as much time as he’d have liked in the Fire Nation over the past year. In fact, he couldn’t even count on one hand how many times he’d visited since...nevermind. Katara scolded herself. Though as a matter of fact, she couldn’t even count how many times on one hand that he’d been home since winter.

She missed her husband, she did, though she had to admit there had been a breakdown in their relationship since...stop it! She chastised herself once again.

Katara resigned herself to watching the city from the window of this prayer room, old and forgotten atop the east tower of the palace. She listened to the hum of the city as the news buzzed from one home to the next, one shop to the next, one person to the next. The square was bustling, as she could tell from the jovial horns that echoed off the cobblestone streets, the distant ringing of bells on carriages, and the cloud of dust that wafted through the air, disturbed by the feet of firehorses prancing along the city roads. 

She wondered, for a moment, if they should go down and join the festivities. Almost instantly, though, she’d decided against it. She was the Avatar’s wife. The same questions were fired at her every time. Can the Avatar please save my village from *insert crisis here*? What is it like being married to the Avatar? Can you please tell the Avatar to consider *insert generic problem/solution*? 

She couldn’t bear the thought of being asked the same bothersome questions again. She’d sooner freeze herself to a penguin than announce to a room that she’s the Avatar’s wife. Is this how Mai felt being married to the Fire Lord? Katara wondered to herself. Famous husbands; the only thing her and Mai ever had in common.

“Sometimes I think so.” 

Katara was startled by Zuko’s voice hovering in the stale air of the half shadowed room she sat in.

“Huh?” she questioned, her eyes widening and a feeling of mild terror spread through her upon realizing that her thought was actually spoken aloud.

Zuko glided across the floor with little resistance in his movements. Katara smiled favorably at him as he took a seat beside her, His long, scarlet robe pooling around his body.

“I can’t imagine how it must feel to be married to someone in mine or Aang’s positions. I guess I never really asked Mai how she felt about it...” Zuko trailed off, looking as if he was watching a distant memory play out in front of him.

He gazed out the window, his eyes scanning the brilliance of his city. Katara was still caught off guard by his mere presence, and his sudden willingness to speak of his wife. She remained silent, unable to come up with something to say.

“Uncle was used to it.” Zuko continued, upon realizing that Katara wasn’t going to reply, “He was born into this, same as me. But it always felt cold, being Ozai’s son. It felt lonely.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by Katara that Zuko referred to his father by his name, rather than just father. She knew that her friend had let go of his attachment to his father, but did he ever really forgive him?

She wanted to comfort him, but she felt as though there were no words she could offer that would bring such relief. She opted just to take his hand in hers and lightly squeeze it. His palm was hot to the touch. Almost like he shoots fire out of it. 

Lonely. His word echoed in her mind.

A sharp cough from Zuko brought her to realize how long she’d just been staring off. Enough time had passed and she felt as though she could continue

“I’ve never felt bad with Aang. Just...forgotten.” Katara is surprised by her own words. Even more surprised by the truth in them.

Zuko finally turns to look at her. Her expression is clearly troubled, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say he sensed some resentment in her tone. He didn’t understand, but he wanted to.

“I’m sure that isn’t his intention. Why do you feel that way?” Zuko asks.

Katara can hear nothing but sincerity in his words. She should be offended by the question. If Sokka or Toph or Suki had asked it she would be fuming. Maybe it was the fact that Zuko only spoke when his words were carefully thought out and spoken with the utmost respect (or disrespect depending on who it was he was speaking to).

Katara pivoted until she faced him, though unable to look him in the eyes. Instead, she just stared at the floor, counting the ants that crawled single-file along each wooden plank.

“I don’t know.” she whispered softly. “I guess I just thought, when the war was over, that things would be different. They were supposed to be different.”

“How do you mean?” Zuko questions.

“It’s just, Aang and I were supposed to be together when it was all over.” Katara answer sullenly.

“Are you not?” Zuko inquires, confused.

“Sometimes I just don’t feel like we are. He spends so much time away, and even though we’re married it’s just...not what I expected. It’s-It’s...lonely.”

That word strikes Zuko hard. He knows the feeling. All too well. To her he, appeared stern, calm, and composed, as he always did. In truth, he was just digesting her words, thinking of a proper response.

“I know he loves you. He’d do anything to make you happy.”

She knew Zuko thought his reply was comforting, and she gave the smallest hint of a smile to convince him of such. But he didn’t buy it.

It was silent for a moment, and suddenly Zuko's deepening voice sliced through the air like a knife, "I never really thought of the effect my throne would have on our life together. We married so young, perhaps too young... He trailed off again.

He was speaking of Mai.

"She was accustomed to living comfortably, but living like royalty is quite different."

Katara knew that if Zuko was telling her this, he was attempting to relate to her. That was always his intention when it came to sharing any personal details. He wanted to understand and to be understood.

"The title of Fire Lady never felt like it was meant for her, and she said as much once. Mai didn’t enjoy my daily meetings to discuss the bruised economy, or my conferences with National leaders to negotiate post war treaties, or the long nights I would spend in my office pouring over trade documents and proposed laws.” The light of the fading sun cast a shadow across Zuko's angular face, making the lines of his nose and his jaw that much sharper and more defined. His eyes looked lost somewhere in time, focused on a where and a when he could never return to.

"I know she was lonely, though she never told me she was. When we found out she was pregnant, I think we both thought that things would just magically get better. And they didn’t.” He spoke so bitterly, a soul being eaten alive by regret.

Zuko couldn’t know how deeply his words pierced into her own guilt and regret.

“Sometimes I think to myself that she would have been better off married to a general, or an advisor, or anyone else who didn't carry such burdens on their shoulders."

Katara's heart ached for him. After all, he was only 23 years old, and he'd already experienced more loss than some people know in an entire lifetime. Already fought a war he didn't start. Already nearly died at the hands of his sister. Already inherited a country with deep wounds that he did not inflict.

"You're not a burden, Zuko." She soothed, as if reading his thoughts. His name rolled effortlessly off her tongue.

"Mai is dead, Katara.” he replied dryly. As if just stating a fact. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault.” She shot back quickly, her tone rising ever so slightly.

“All I’m trying to say, is that it’s normal for you to feel lonely. Maybe Aang feels the same way.”

Katara just nodded, allowing his advice to sink in. Allowing the dust to settle and the conversation to die there.

A comfortable silence filled the room, and Katara watched Zuko's face for a long time. The little spasm of his temples as he clenched his jaw. The barely noticeable flare of his nostrils as he breathed deeply. The fluttering of a stray hair that was caught in a soft breeze. And the parting of his lips as he started to say something.

Suddenly the sound of more wailing horns filled every last inch of the palace grounds, reverberating off of the marble pillars and granite floors, cutting through the solid stone walls, and dancing around the pointed spires of the rooftops.

A voice announced the arrival of Avatar Aang, and with a sharp glance at Katara, Zuko hoisted himself from the floor. He offered his hand to Katara, though she respectfully declined, voicing her intentions to remain. Zuko wouldn't disrespect her wishes by challenging them, so instead he excused himself from her presence.

He wished he could apologize to her. He seemed to only upset her more, rather than offer her any comfort. He just wasn’t very good at apologies and he didn’t even know if she would accept it. Perhaps she would take his advice. Or perhaps he hoped she wouldn’t, so he wouldn’t be the only one suffering. What a selfish thought.

[dailyaudiobible]

04/17/2021 DAB Transcript

Joshua 15:1-63, Luke 18:18-43, Psalms 86:1-17, Proverbs 13:9-10

Today is the 17th day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it's always wonderful to be here with you today around the Global Campfire. It's nice to reach the conclusion of another one of our weeks together. And we’ve been reading from the New English Translation, the NET Bible this week. That's what we’ll continue to do today. Joshua chapter 15.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for bringing us another week through Your word and we are so grateful. We’re…it's shocking actually, it…it's amazing how profoundly the Scriptures speak into the issues of our lives. And, so, we are grateful for the gift of Your word and grateful for the gift of community to move through the Scriptures this year together in community. We’re…we’re grateful. We recognize ourselves in the story in the gospel of Luke how the blind man just cries out in Jericho, “have mercy, have mercy on me!” And we hear, “what…what do You want me to do for You?” And we echo the same sentiment. Open our eyes so that we might see that we might see Your kingdom at work in this world. Open the eyes of our hearts lord we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible if…if…if the mission to bring the spoken word of God every day just like we do and gather around this Global Campfire just like we do, if this is life-giving to you than thank you humbly, profoundly for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, the little red button up at the top, or you can dial 877 942 4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

This is Consider the Lilies formerly known as Lacy. It's Friday April 9th and after listening to the reading today in Luke about Jesus healing the daughter of Abraham that was bent over, I wanted to reach out and ask for prayer. I am bent over and getting ever more so all the time. I've told you before I'm elderly and alone in the world and I'm severely arthritic but I'm very bent over and I hate it. And that just really spoke to me. And I'm reaching for the hem of His garment and asking Him to have mercy and straighten me up and heal me and I ask that you’d join me in that prayer in Jesus’ name. Thank you and God bless you.

Hi this is Victoria Soldier just calling to pray with some of the DABbers. I want to pray again…keep…keep the fire going on with my teacher in LA and just let him know that don't…whatever your wife asks you for trust in the Lord. Begin to think of what the Lord has done for you and what the Lord can do for you. Remember what He did for…for…for Abraham just because he was obedient. Just be obedient to Him and listen to His word. I want to also pray for my sister who says that her daughter is struggling with a drug addiction. I…I didn’t…she's a first-time caller and I wanted to pray for her and her precious daughter and all of our kids who are going through the drug problem, the…the or the heavy…all the strongholds. I want to pray for them. I want to pray for those who are going through in their marriages. That the devil is trying to attack their marriages. Oh Lord in the name of Jesus You have Your way in the name of Jesus. Lord You bless our husbands to become Kingdom men that they can hear from the Lord and know the direction of the Lord. Lord You touch in those marriages. We need more Kingdom men in our marriages. We need more Kingdom single men so we can…we can hear from the Lord. Our nation needs or hear from You Lord. Oh Lord in the name of Jesus You touch our children. Breakdown that stronghold of drugs Lord. Take away...kill the spider Lord and then knock the web down. We need You Lord in the name of Jesus. We need You Lord. We need You. Somebody's going through. Somebody sick. Somebody's missing their parents or someone who’s died in their family. Lord we ask You to have Your way. We ask You to strengthen us. We ask You to let them rejoice in the fact but they will get to see him again and know that we all have the appointment with death but that we know that we have the death of…

Hi DAB family this is Will from beautiful Bozeman Mt. I just heard prayer requests for April the 9th Victoria Soldier you were finishing it up and the spirit of God was moving on you. James the teacher, Troy, your mother. All those people I want to pray for, people or who are facing troubles with their marriage. Father I just join in prayer. You are a good God. You are a merciful God. You are a loving God, yet I know Your heart hurts for the people who are suffering with emotional and depression type pains. I pray God that You bring healing in marriages that are broken. I pray Lord Jesus that You would heal broken bodies that, You would touch Troy's mother that Lord You would just…You would just fill her up. Renew her mind and her strength Father. Draw her closer to You Lord. Give her a good prognosis Father. I pray Father that…that You would just heal the marriage of the husband who just gave up on God. Turn his heart around. Help Chris to say yes to Your will Lord and no to all the confusion. God clear his heart out. Clear his mind up. God give him strength. Show Yourself to him Lord. Fill him with Your Holy Spirit. Renew him in every way God. Renew their marriage Lord. Renew all marriages, Father. Thank You for this group. Thank You for Your holiness. Thank You for Your holy word and thank You for Your holy will. Thank You so much God for Brian and Jill and thank You again for this ministry. We love You; we praise You; we thank You. You are holy and we praise You and love You Lord. In Your righteous and holy name, I pray. Amen. Thank You, Lord.

Yes, hello hi I'm calling from California and I just love the Daily Audio Bible and I'm just asking for some prayers today for my son in law who's going to enter a detox program for alcoholism. My poor daughter has been dealing with this man and she loves him, and…and they have four children together. And we just…I just ask for prayers for him to…to accept God in his life and to…and to have the alcohol stop taking control of his life and I just ask for all of you who have suffered with any kind of addiction. I too have and I have four years of sobriety. So, I know that God can and does heal and miracles can happen. And it just pray that…that he gets one and I sure would appreciate all your prayers. Thank you.

Good morning fellow dabbers this is Tamberly. I want to lift up a few of the people in prayer this morning. James the teacher in LA, I want to lift you up and your wife up. Father God I…I pray for James and his wife Lord Jesus that You would give them wisdom and direct their paths during this difficult journey. Father God I pray blessings over their children Father that You would also direct their paths. Lord keep their mind and eyes fixed on You Father God. I pray that each of them, James and his wife both I believe are believers, Father God that they would press into You this time and that through this situation no matter what happens that each of them would draw closer to You and their relationship would be even more solid than it's ever been. Father God, I also want to lift up Anya…Anya from Slovenia and her sister Barbara. Father God Barbara has experienced the miracle of birth and has give…given birth to a beautiful child Father God. I pray for this time for her that You would make another miracle in this woman's life Father God that she would be around to take care of this child and nurture this child in You Father Jesus. Father God I just want to pray encouragement over this family and pray peace over this family Father God and just pray abundant health and unmistakable…the unmistakable touch of Your hand on the situation. I also want to lift up the gal that called in today about her brother committing suicide and…or…I'm sorry her son-in-law committing suicide and her daughter wanting to follow suit and talking about the heartache and the aftermath that ensues as a result of this act. Father God I pray for all of those that are struggling with mental illness. Please help them Father. Please Lord come near to the brokenhearted. In Your Son's name I pray. Amen.

[butsomeofusarelookingatthestars]

Hii could u please do a follow on to surprise visit where u feel a bit insecure after the baby and one of the team members tries to make u feel better and then when u see Luke he helps u too?? Lmao can u imagine Rossi helping with that 😂😂😂😂

Awwh this is a very sweet idea! I just had to put poor Rossi in this one – making a valiant attempt to comfort a crying woman! I also couldn’t resist – so Matt also makes an appearance! Enjoy

A Difficult Case

Fandom: Criminal MindsPairing: Luke Alvez x ReaderPrompt: Request (follow-up to ‘A Surprise Visit’)

Description: You had really been looking forward to going back to work after maternity leave. But, leaving your baby at home had its difficulties. Luckily, your colleagues were there to support you.

As the bullpen buzzed with activity, agents rushing around following the dispersal of the meeting Prentiss had called, you could only stare blankly at your phone screen. There was a worry niggling away at you inside that you just couldn’t shake.

You had never anticipated returning back to work being so difficult. In fact, you had been delighted at the prospect of escaping the house and getting back to capturing unsubs. Your dedication to your job was second only to the love you had for your baby girl.

However, as soon as you had entered the office this morning hand-in-hand with Luke your positive mood had been shattered by the announcement that the BAU would be working a child abduction case. Of course, those type of horrific cases had always bothered you in past. But, being a new mother yourself, it affected you in a way you never could have anticipated.

You had persevered through the awful day, excelling in delivering the profiler of the offender and providing a lot of helpful contributions to the team. Prentiss had even taken you aside to express her own delight at having you back. But, despite the impressive progress the BAU had made and the kind words of your colleagues, you remained troubled.

What if Sofia was ever taken from you?

It was stupid. Incredibly stupid because you knew perfectly-well that your baby was safe at home with nanny you and Luke had handpicked, confident in your decision that Sofia would be safe in their care. But, without being able to see her with your eyes, feel her soft breaths as she slept in your arms or listen to her quiet gurgling, you were left distressed and anxious.

Everyone had warned you that leaving your baby at home for the first time would be hard. But, few people did what you did. They couldn’t understand that extra dimension, coping with the horrific abuse and disturbing acts of violence committed against children was part of your job. But, could you deal with it?

It felt as if you weren’t able to do your job properly anymore. The crime scene photographs alone had made your stomach churn. Seeing the light pink baby blanket on the floor had sent shivers down your spine. Everything inside you was screaming at you to get back home to check on your own daughter.

The irrationality of your thoughts frustrated you. But profilers were trained on how to follow their instincts, unfortunately it was your maternal ones that were causing your heart to ache uncontrollably.

A loud wail snapped you out of your dark thoughts. Luke and JJ were escorting the mother of the abducted child into an interview room, holding her gently as sobs of pain wracked through her body. The noise tore at your heart. Tears formed in your eyes as her cries echoed down the corridor.

How could Luke appear so calm? Was it just you who couldn’t control their emotions?

“Mi carina, what’s going on?”

The softness in Rossi’s voice was unusual given the older agent’s love of sarcasm and cutting remarks. That’s when you knew that you must have looked truly distraught.  

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but your throat was constricted by emotion. Rossi took one look at you, noticing your tear-filled eyes, and immediately guided you over to his office.

You had never been so thankful for his kindness in your life. The last thing you wanted was to breakdown and embarrass yourself in front of the entire bureau.

But, in the privacy of Rossi’s office, the tears began to silently fall down your face.

“I can’t do it.” Your voice was little for than a hoarse whisper, but Rossi instantly understood your pain.

“It’s a difficult case – especially for you. But you can do it Y/N.”

His words were encouraging and his eyes were kind, but even his wisdom couldn’t get through to you.

“I can’t even compartmentalise my emotions anymore Rossi. What if I can’t do this job?”

He patted your arm gently, trying his best to reassure you that you were one of the most skilled agents he had seen. It was difficult though. Of course, he could comfort you about your career.

But, there was little he could do to understand your pain of being separated from your child. After all, he had only found out about his own daughter when she was an adult herself.

He shifted uncomfortably as you continued to sob, hiding your head in your hands. Thankfully, help arrived in the form of Matt.

“Simmons, get in here.” Rossi shouted, gesturing frantically for his fellow agent to enter his office. He wasn’t Alvez, but he was the next best thing. He was a parent too and the two of you had a great friendship.

Matt looked bewildered at the urgency in Rossi’s tone, but quickly obeyed him. He frowned as he took in your distressed state.

“Are you-”

“Just stay with her while I find Alvez.” Rossi muttered, flashing him an apologetic look as he dashed out in search of your boyfriend.

Matt didn’t even ask any questions as he moved to sit beside you. A strong arm wrapped around your shoulders as he pulled you into his warm embrace. Your tears stained his shirt but he didn’t seem to mind.

Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to find comfort in his soothing presence. Matt always seemed to be a source of reassurance for the whole team. He just had a very calm and caring nature.

Apparently, you had zoned out because the next thing you realised was a gentle shift on the sofa next to you and the familiar scent of Luke as your head rested against his chest.

“I miss her.”

His arm tightened around your waist as he pulled you protectively into his embrace.

“I know. I do too.”

Your cries had quietened considerably, but the tears still streamed silently down your face as you absentmindedly played with the button on his shirt. You just need a distraction from your own thoughts.

“How can you listen to her cry? That poor woman…”

You trailed off with a sob, a new wave of hysteria threatening to consume you. You mentally cursed yourself and your rampant hormones. It was almost unbearable.

Luke pressed a tender kiss onto your temple, rubbing soothing circles on your back. His touch seemed to ground you, your body instantly relaxing under his affectionate gestures.

“It’s worse for you.”

“Because I’m a hormonal wreck?” You sniffed miserably, disappointed in yourself for the fact that you had bawled at work in front of your colleagues.

Luke chuckled softly, the vibrations of his chest soothing as your head remained tucked under his chin.

“You’re not a hormonal wreck. You’re a new mom.”

He glanced down at you fondly, forcing you to meet his loving gaze.

“I felt the same. I still do. I hate leaving Sofia at home to come here.”

“But?”

He smiled softly, knowing you would sense exactly where he was going with his words.

“But, our little girl is safe at home. It’s our job to help others.”

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips as your eyes filled with determination. He was right. If anything, being new parents should provide you with even more motivation to protect others.

“Let’s get back to work then.”

[papcrback]

awake; nonfiction/ memoir

Here is a piece that I wrote in my nonfiction class this past semester. It is centered around my experience with religion. From a young girl in awe of her Catholic church to a young woman who was forced into a new cult-like church by her mother. 

My family went to church twice a year every year without fail. Every Christmas and Easter we would carpool my entire extended family to the church and attend Mass. There were no questions, no arguments, not a complaint to be heard. This was law. 

My two older sisters and I were always gifted new dresses for the festivities, and we wore our matching gowns with pride as we swayed and sashayed down the aisle and into our pew. Our church was grandiose and beautiful. The marble-like floor sparkled as the kaleidoscope of color rained in through the glass-stained windows near the top of the church, like a vibrant halo sitting perfectly atop the picturesque structure. 

My church was a beautiful castle where priests would rise and tell stories of the Bible with such passion and grace that I always found myself sitting on the edge of the pew, transfixed by the stories of Mary and Joesph and their miracle baby. My favorite part of these services was when he would tell a story of his own choosing—one that always made you think, made you wonder what you would do, how you would choose if you were in their shoes. They always ended with a peaceful resolution because the main character made the righteous choice, always keeping God’s words as their guide through their stories. These church visits brought me peace and shared the wisdom that I hold dear to me, even to this day. 

When I was fifteen this tradition was shattered. 

As my parents sought out religious marriage counselors my mother stumbled upon an online add for Cornerstone Church. She quickly called and explained her uncertainty in her marriage, her suspicion of infidelity, and her desperate need for help. After their first session, my mother made the decision to convert us to the Baptist church.

She quickly found out that biannual church-goers like ourselves were snubbed as “chreasters” (people who attended only on Christmas and Easter) by the members of our new church, and my mother decided from that moment on that we were going to leave our old traditions behind, along with the Catholic church, as we converted to this new Baptist faith. 

On our first visit, my sister and I were pulled to the side and spoken to by the head ladies of the church. We were warned that we were going to hell and that unless we repented, asked God for forgiveness, and turned away from our life of sin, we would be eternally damned to live in the lake of fire and brimstone forever. 

“I don’t understand,” I said to my sister, interlocking our arms as we hid behind a large tree outside of the church. We were waiting for our parents who were speaking to the assistant pastor by the entrance doors. 

“Why is everyone so mean here?” I asked. My sister, Courtney, shook her head as she tightened her grip on me, and after seeing my parents turning toward us, immediately pulled me toward the car. 

That was the last time Courtney went, however, it wasn’t without a fight from my mother, who now passionately believed that Sunday was the Sabbath and it was a sin to not attend church, and an additional sin to work on it. Courtney, who was never particularly religious in the first place, told my mother that she could add it to her now growing “list of sins,” and worked every Sunday from then on. My other sister Brittany, who was away at school, tried to ease tensions but was also noticing the new sinister streak that my mother had inherited since joining this new church. She drank the Kool-Aid and was now Hell bent on erasing the sin from the rest of her family. 

My father had conflicting feelings about the new church. He was trying to repair the marriage that was quickly deteriorating, but after a particularly explosive counseling session at the church, he moved his clothes and books upstairs into the guest bedroom and refused to go back again. My mom kicked him out of the house a month later and blocked him from my cell phone. She claimed that his sin needed to be atoned for and losing his children was just the beginning of it. I was unable to speak to him for four years until I finally moved out of her house. 

After my mother had declared her sentencing of my father, a bold line was drawn. My sisters, although not much older than myself, were old enough to choose their own sides. And after my mother’s blatant mental breakdown consisting of a screaming fit at a graduation, a fist fight in the front yard, and multiple stalking allegations, my mother had officially shattered.

Somehow the family of five had been reduced to two. 

Our twice a year celebration turned into a twice a week responsibility, which now included a three and half hour service every Sunday morning alongside our Wednesday Bible study groups. I was signed up for every group, meeting, and festival that the church held, as my mother was attempting to solidify her position in the church. 

My mother’s sinister streak did not end with the banishment of my father and sister. Instead, it was simply redirected. With every passing month, I could feel myself harden inside. I began to truly listen to the pastor preach every Sunday. I would see how my peers would talk about others. How they would view them as if they were nothing more than dirt and grime. 

They would speak of women who dressed immodestly. Her shirt not to her neck or her dress above her knees. “This is a whore,” they would say, “how could someone treat their bodies so carelessly? How could you tempt men like that? Don’t you care about how men will lust after you? Men cannot control themselves. As a wife you are to serve your husband however and whenever he wants, but not until you are married, or else you are a whore.” I began to pull my sweaters close and hide my body, ashamed of how men looked at me, knowing that it was my fault that their eyes lingered around my covered chest. Knowing that my body was more theirs than my own. 

They would speak of two men kissing. “Sin, sin, sin. They are possessed by demons.” My Pastor would say, “God destroyed an entire city because of them. They are destined for hell. They have chosen evil.” I began to fear those different than me, afraid that I would too become possessed.

I would think of my father and think adulterer-sinner-evil. My mother would preach daily that he was hell-bound, possessed by demons and unworthy of Heaven. He was of the world. And I was cut of the same cloth. 

One Sunday, as we were welcomed into the church and seated alongside our new family, the pastor stood up and called for our attention. “One of our own needs our help today. She needs all of us. Mary would you please stand.” 

A woman who I recognized as a member of my mother’s bible group stood, the man seated next to her rose as well. 

“Mary’s son has fallen to homosexuality. He has been possessed because of the sinful and worldly nature of his lifestyle. He has watched pornography and through this sin, he has opened himself up to the demon of homosexuality.” 

Murmurs of disgust echoed through the room and Mary’s face reddened into a deep purple as her eyes welled. 

“Mary, you have come to me and asked that we all pray for you son.” Mary nodded her head. 

“What is his name?” Mary looked at the man standing next to her. He bent down as she whispered the name into his ear. Women were not permitted to speak during the service. 

“His name is Toby.” The man, Scott, who was a junior Pastor and often came into my youth group meetings, announced. 

The Pastor nodded his head solemnly. “We will be praying for Toby to be awoken to his sin. We will pray for harm to fall unto him. For the devil to attack. For the demons inside of him to swallow him whole. It is only then that he will truly see the light of God and come forward to be saved. He must first see the severity of the sin that he has chosen.” 

I starred at the Pastor for a long moment and was elbowed in the rib by my mother when he began the prayer as I was still staring off idly. This was my moment of clarity. As I listened to a chorus of people pray to God that this young boy would be harmed (for his own good, you see!) I could feel the hypnotic-like haze evaporate from my body. Suddenly, I felt very sick, as the gravity of the situation hit me. 

I wasn’t allowed to stop going to services and bible study, but my awakening led me to see the world differently than I previously had. I no longer saw women as objects to be presented to men. I no longer saw those in other religions as less than or unworthy. I no longer saw myself as better than girls who didn’t attend church on Sundays or read their bibles before bed at night. I was awoken to the color of the world, seeing truly that life was not black or white. Good or evil. Heaven or Hell. I was not just a sinner. I was a human being in a world with more to it than the hate and resentment that this church so vehemently fed off. 

I graduated high school not long after the predatory prayer was introduced into the church. Years later I am ashamed of how twisted and toxic I allowed my thoughts to become. Knowing that I condemned love as hate and freedom as sinful is shameful. I have struggled with the idea of religion ever since and feel most comfortable with the idea of living peacefully with a loving and open heart rather than following any specific ideology. It took me a long time to realize that the church that my mother had brought us to was not really a church, but rather a cult. 

A few months after I moved out of my mother’s house a news article caught my attention. Church Pastor arrested for sexual and physical abuse of children. The mugshot on the front page caught my eye, the familiar deep domineering black holes staring right back at me. His jeer made my stomach churn as I read the article. 

A close friend of the Pastor’s family reports that he made his wife and daughters bleach the garage every Sunday night. From floor to ceiling. Apparently, this is where he would sexually assault his daughters. He believed this bleach ritual has cleansed him of his sins. 

I emailed the article to my mother. She simply replied the World doesn’t understand God’s work.

[oneweekoneband]

I NEVER WANTED TO COMPROMISE: Revolution Radio

As chronicled over the past couple of days, Green Day’s post-Dookie career has been a long string of attempts at reinvention, trying something new, refusing to be closed down into any sort of generic or other box. They went bigger, more conceptual, more expansive, until they hit the over-the-top outsizedness of a trilogy of albums - and then they burnt out. Publicly, painfully.

So they stepped back, and they regrouped. Revolution Radio is their first album after a four year break - longer than any they’ve taken as a band except the one between American Idiot and 21st Century Breakdown, and it profits immensely from that time away.

That Billie Joe’s first musical release after announcing he was seeking treatment for substance abuse was a back-to-basics, no-frills tribute album may have hinted at their next step as a full band. Maybe their Hall of Fame induction helped settle them down into the comfort to make music without worrying about how to present it (certainly their naming of all their musical heroes - and who those heroes are - seems indicative in the light of what we get on Revolution Radio). I don’t know.

All I know is that Revolution Radio is, by far, the best Green Day album since American Idiot. And I can intuit that it got that way by being created without any sort of preoccupation with the conceptual or some sort of grandiosity to earn their acclaim - except for maybe the concept of hey, let’s make a really fucking great record. They’ve stripped themselves down - not aurally, there’s still a lot to hear - as a band, with Jason White returning to being just a touring member for the first time since 2009, and they’ve stepped back from the massive ambition (not in itself a bad thing, except for when it closes everything else out) necessary to even conceive of a rock opera, let alone execute it.

In its place, they’re left standing as a band. Three musicians in a room trying to make good music, and without anything else to hide behind. As Billie Joe told Q Magazine, it was “not so much a makeover as a makeunder.” And it worked.

For one thing, it’s really musically solid. Everything from their Gilman days to the influences they listed in their inductions speeches comes together in a glorious cacophony of noise that pushes the album forward and keeps you listening. It’s been accused (by Pitchfork, who I just disagree with on principle anyways) of just regurgitating the idea of “Green Day” without any direction or urgency, but I disagree entirely. Yes, Revolution Radio revisits basically the entirety of Green Day’s career, but I think it does so in the spirit of reflection and acceptance, even gratitude for everything the band has been through and learned. This is an album released on the thirty-year mark of their career, after all; they’ve got a lot to pull from.

Which brings us to the lyrics. I said that Warning is one of my favourites because it sounds like a band coming out the other side of something, still tender, perhaps, but wiser and more open. Revolution Radio echoes that feeling and amplifies it by ten. This is a band that has been through the wringer and is still standing. Like Warning, the lyrics are a combination of the personal and the political - from reflections on the struggle for personal clarity to a song inspired by the Black Lives Matter protest that Billie Joe abandoned his car to join - and they are the band’s best since American Idiot, at least. When they are angry, they are bruisingly, furiously, rightfully so, and when they are gentle it is with years of accrued wisdom and sensitivity. It is, on the whole, a remarkably generous record, a sentiment one might not always associate with pop or punk either, but which here reaches a peak with the gorgeous, soaring, breathtakingly important “Still Breathing.”

- Jacqui // @sandovers