#event my aunt witnessed today.

[sarahs-secrets2]

In Your Wildest Dreams Chapter 2 ˋ♡ˊ

introduction & masterlist ❁ ❁ chapter 1❁ ❁ taglist

duke!leon x fem!reader

easier than it looks, is that jealousy i see mr. kennedy?

word count: 2.1k

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Aunt Agatha's house was bustling with staff running around while suitors began to line up to formally start their courtship. Your mind was elsewhere though as you sat in your room, getting ready for the promenade. It had been decided you and the Duke would meet to show everyone that the two of you were “officially” courting. Little did they know of the ruse established just the night prior. 

“Dear,” your Aunt cracked open the door, letting herself in. The staff who helped you get ready quickly scurried out to give you both privacy. “Might you be gracing us with your presence in the tea room? A group of suitors eagerly awaits your arrival." Your gaze was fixed on the mirror, spritzing a perfume onto your neck. Your eyes meet hers in the reflection, her expression was one of confusion. Aunt Agatha was the last person you could sneak something passed, she was observant to a fault, always taking notice of the smallest details. Hence why she asked, “Where do you presume you are venturing off to?”

Your eyes avoided hers, finding ways to busy your attention by flattening out a ruffle in your dress. “Promenade,” you waited for a reaction, to which you received none. “With Duke Leon of Clyvedon.” Turning around in the chair to face her now you could see evidently she looked pleased. 

"I am most delighted to see you’ve taken such a liking to the Duke. Her Majesty shall be positively elated once she witnesses her matchmaking skills working so well, and so early,”

“Is it possible to dismiss the suitors to tomorrow perhaps?”

“Why of course I’ll attend to them at once. Now go,” she laughed as she helped stand you up from the chair, “I will not have my niece miss out on becoming a Duchess because she is behind schedule.” And with that, you were sent off quickly in a carriage to meet the still ever-mysterious Duke Leon. 

On the other side of town, the infamous Duke rolled out of bed, hastening to get ready quickly. For you see, the Duke was not in his bed hence the late arising. The night prior, after the ball, Leon had found his way and ended up with a “lady of the night”. Plush red bedding surrounded him as he was reminded of the sinful activities that had occurred just hours ago. The girl stirred awake at the sound of the Duke getting dressed, her head peeking up from the covers as she hid her body under the sheets. 

“Where are you going so early?” she beckoned him to come join her back in bed.

“Promenade,” Leon was curt, he knew after today all eyes would be on him until you found your official husband so this was his last opportunity to have a night of fun. The girl seemed confused at the Duke’s answer as he was not known to partake in social events of the season, so whatever reason he was going it must have been of the utmost importance to him. Leon was out of the door and quickly hopped in his carriage, heading straight to the park to see you. 

Now it may seem distasteful of the Duke to partake in such sinful activities, but as an established man who has no intention of marrying, this was all routine for him and many other men of the sort. Just because he had a ruse established with you did not mean he was going to stop on your behalf but just halt his discreet activities until it was all said and done. 

The park was vibrant, with a large portion of society in attendance at the day’s promenade. While waiting for the Duke you found yourself engrossed in a conversation with Lord Redfield. It was innocent, being a gentleman Lord Redfield saw you waiting under the willow tree and approached you. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” the voice caused you to jump a little as you turned around to see who it was. 

“Ah, Lord Redfield,” you smiled as you curtsied. Lord Redfield was cute, well-established, and overall quite perfect. An easy catch though, and he was missing that one thing. He wasn't the Duke, he did not carry the same mystery as the Duke, and he definitely did not excite you like the Duke. Lord Redfield was a safe option. “I am just waiting for the Duke of Clyvedon, have you made his acquaintance?”

“Oh?” he seemed surprised, “Leon, yes I’m aware of his business in London. We’ve crossed paths a few times of course.” You waited for him to elaborate but he did not, information a lady was not privy to of course. The two of you began to walk along the gravel paths, your eyes occasionally scanning the park looking for the tall blonde-headed Duke. Alas, he still had not arrived, you began to worry if he had called off the plan entirely already. 

Leon hopped out of the carriage, straightening his jacket as he made his way to the willow tree to meet you. Pulling out his pocket watch, he huffed out noticing the time and how late he ended up being. All eyes were on him as he quickened his pace to get to the willow tree quicker. If he did not know any better he would say he was excited to see you. Almost as quick as the thoughts penetrated his mind, he pushed them down, drowning them with the reminder that he would not marry. This was all a plan to benefit you both in the end, marriage was not on the table for him.

As he approached the willow tree, he realized you were not there. Had he been that late? Did he miss you entirely? Leon’s eyes surveyed the park trying to spot you, and there you were. Walking alongside another man, not Leon. His heart almost stopped, and a tinge of jealousy began to sink into his veins. Perhaps the Duke was still coming down from his wild activities from the night prior when something overcame him as he stomped his way to you.

“Ah, there you are,” his hand quickly snuck around your waist pulling you closer to him, and further away from Lord Redfield. There was that feeling again, a spark flushing your skin when you felt his touch on your waist. Your stomach churned, your face felt hot, what was this feeling?

“Your Grace, I’m so glad you made it,” you beamed up at him, trying to hide the rush of emotions you still had yet to identify. 

“Please accept my apology for being so late, I had some business affairs on my father’s account I had to finish,” his eyes pleading. As genuine as he sounded it was impossible to read him, and it did not help that he was so entirely intoxicating. You thought he looked handsome at the ball, but today was something else. Unlike the prior night, today his silver-toned blonde hair was pushed back with a stray strand resting on his forehead. He sported a dark jacket, with hints of gold and pale blue throughout. The Duke sure knew how to dress. 

“Of course your Grace, I understand. Thank you for making time to see me today,”

“Affairs,” Lord Redfield scoffed, glazing over you as he stared down Leon.

“Lord Redfield,” the Duke looked unfazed, smiling back at Lord Redfield who was scowling at him. Leon’s hand still was firm on your waist, keeping you close to him. “Thank you for keeping her company in my absence. He is a true gentleman is he not? Always stepping up when you least expect it.” Although Leon’s words were kind, sarcasm was dripping as he eyed down Lord Redfield. Almost as a warning to stay away from you. 

This was where the Duke’s mystery came in, if he did not wish to marry you then why was he being so territorial right now? Why was he scaring away a potential match?

“Well,” Lord Redfield offered you a sympathetic glance, although you weren't sure why. “I’ll take my leave, miss,” he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your gloved hand. “Enjoy your day, I hope I have the chance to make your acquaintance again, sooner rather than later preferably,” he paused before taking a step towards Leon, “Enjoy your affairs, Leon.” And with that Lord Redfield walked away, leaving you and the Duke alone.

“Am I allowed to ask what that was about?” you turned to face Leon, his hand dropping from your waist. Immediately you missed his grasp on you. 

“Which part?” the Duke chuckled slightly, extending his arm for you. Obviously, it was fun for him to ruin your chances with a suitor. You linked your arm around his as the two of you began to promenade around the park. 

“All of it,” glancing up at him, but his eyes were glued straight ahead.

“Let us enjoy this day, not get fussed with the little things,” he looked down at you smiling. You decide not to probe him deeper, he was already assisting you this season better to just keep him happy. 

“Fine, if you insist,” you wrapped your arm around his tighter, “This plan of ours, we will need to come up with some of the guidelines,”

“Such as?”

“Balls, gifts, the customary plans of courtship,” the idea of these things excited you, but your heart really began racing when you pictured the Duke being the one you did it with. 

“I cannot be expected to do all that, can I?” his tone shifted, obviously unaware of the entire extent of the plan he created. 

“You must, it is the only way this arrangement works,”

“If you insist, but I cannot attend every single ball. I have my own business to attend to if you recall.”

“I am well aware your Grace,”

“Just Leon, please I cannot remind you every time,” he teased, stealing a glance down at you as the two of you continued on the paths of the park.

“Of course, Leon,” you let his name glide off your tongue making sure to pronounce every syllable for him.

“Mhm just like that, go on,”

“Please make the effort to attend the balls until I have found a proper suitor.” Leon nodded, unable to find the words or a witty joke. He was a perfect eligible suitor for you, he knew it, and there was that voice in his reminding him again that he was to not marry. This arrangement was simply to help you both out. Keep the swarm of mamas and their daughters at bay for him, while attracting only the best suitors for you. The Duke now faced a new task though, he could not afford to allow these budding feelings for you to flourish. “And I will need you to send flowers, preferably today,”

“Flowers?” 

“Customary to signify you are courting me,”

“I see,” he looked lost in thought as he paused for a moment. He stopped walking and turned to face you, “If I was truly courting you I would not need to follow customs, 10 minutes alone would suffice,” his voice low, and husky as he spoke. The sudden change in his demeanor shocked you as you were unsure how to respond in a ladylike way. 

“Expensive flowers, Leon. Today,” you attempted to brush off his comment but the way your body and mind reacted was an entirely different story. 

“Of course,” his bold tone had left him, perhaps it was still the jealousy from Lord Redfield causing him to act in such a way. “Anything else?”

“Do not tell anyone of this arrangement, I need this to remain a secret between the two of us please Leon, I cannot afford a scandal,” you were pleading at this point, but it was necessary to ensure he understood how important this was. 

“I shall not tell a soul dear,” he nodded, sticking his arm back out for you to take again, continuing the promenade. 

What you two did not notice throughout the time at the park, was the mass amount of eyes on you both throughout the entirety of the promenade. The ton would be swirling with rumors, and stories of who the Duke was courting. Are there promises of a new Duchess on the horizon? 

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

briefly proofread pls lmk if there's a jarring typo

tags: @ir3nic-sluvv @mylifedoesntexist @secretsthathauntus @sageslittlelibrary

[milkywaygg]

The Fly-Cosma ALT Story Pt. 2

After tucking and kissing all three of his children goodnights and feeding Cosmo his last bottle, Linnie sat on the edge of his bed and cried endlessly, allowing the tears to fall freely from his cheeks onto the greenish-blue sheets. He also fought hard to keep himself from staring at the photo of their wedding that rested on his nightstand, as even thicker tears escaped his emerald eyes. Taking off his reading glasses so that all he saw was a blur, Linnie continued to cry, unsure of what to do next.

‘How could I do this to my own wife?’ he thought continuously, blaming himself over and over for everything that had happened. ‘Oh, if only had I just left her alone, she’d still be here. But she really needed to be here. To witness Cosmo’s first steps…oh Nora, I’m so sorry.’

Linnie had thought about turning himself in to Jorge at Fairy World Prison. After all, he technically committed fairyslaughter, even if it was unintentional. But the more he thought about it, the more he kept thinking about his children. He had always promised them that he would always be a part of their lives until the day he died. That he would never leave or abandon them like some parents had done. But if he had gone through with turning himself in, then what would happen to the children? They would be so lost and afraid as they got shipped off to an orphanage or foster home, or something, and to Linnie, that’s basically breaking his promise.

He had also considered sending them to stay with their Aunt Daisy, his twin sister, for a little while before he flew to the prison. As much as he knew she loved her nephews and niece however, Linnie also understood that she had no experience with children and had always wanted to live her life childfree. Linnie didn’t feel that was very fair to her, especially after he had Cosmo not too long ago.

At the mention of Cosmo’s name, Linnie’s thoughts then shifted towards himself and the kids. How was he going to tell them? Chelsea and Cosmo were far too young to understand that their mother was gone for good, and he worried what Darren’s reaction towards the accident would be. It wouldn’t be surprising that Darren would try to blame him or Cosmo, especially with him being the best thing Nora had to a doppelganger.

Turning the light out so that he could be alone with his thoughts, Linnie lied down, not even bothering to get under the covers, and continued to occupy only his side of the bed, despite the now plentiful space. Linnie felt his stomach toss and turn as he repeated the events of today in his head and analyzed all the possible consequences. He never thought for one second to blame Cosmo. After all, he was just a little baby and thought that the wand was a magical toy, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that he was so magically gifted. Yet, with stronger magic, Linnie knew that as Cosmo got older, he was going to be mindful of his education and make sure he gets the help he needs, especially to prevent more accidents like this. Linnie couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone else, especially any of his children.

Finally, after all his energy had drained out..Linnie finally started to fall asleep, his tear-stained eyes getting heavier and heavier.

  “Chelsea? Darren? Would you both come downstairs for a moment please? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”, Linnie called gently after getting off the phone with Daisy, who urged him to tell them the truth. They were bound to find out eventually after all, and why make it worse by being dishonest. Linnie held Cosmo in his arms gently and sat down on the rocking chair in the living room, while the two older children scurried downstairs, Darren’s hands in the air for some odd reason.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do shit.”, he said, in his high-pitched voice.

“Darren! Watch you language, please!”

“Why? Mom doesn’t watch hers.”

“Well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Here, why don’t you both sit down. I’ve got something…difficult to tell you.”

“What is it, Daddy?”, Chelsea asked as the two of them sat down, the innocent in her eyes just breaking Linnie’s heart.

“Well um….darling….Mommy um…had a bit of an accident and well…”, Linnie stuttered, slightly tearing up but tried to pull himself together for his kids, “She’s not going to be around much anymore.”

“Why? Where’d she go? Did she finally leave us like she said a million times?”, Darren asked, though to Linnie’s surprise, there was no hint of sadness. In fact, his tone seemed somewhat perky.

“No..sh-she died, dear. I’m so sorry.”

Darren almost let out a woohoo. No more bourbon, no more late-night TV, and no more ‘Darren, get your ass down here right now!’s He could finally be a kid and mess up without the fear of being pounded into next week or having to dodge a shot glass just because he ran in front of the TV while a football game was on. Yet, watching as the other three cried slightly, Darren had to hold off the celebrations until he was alone in his room, simply keeping his mouth shut and hugging his father’s leg.

[disneyfangrl100]

Chapter Eleven: A Hellish Reunion

Quasi paced back in forth in his room contemplating what he should do after seeing the events he’d witnessed. “I should tell someone. Charlie or my dad. No Charlie already tried to interfere and it just made things worse and I don’t want to bother dad with this he’s busy. But what can I do?”

“You could tell him how you feel. That would be a start.” Quasi blushed. “But it’s so hard!” Quasi sighed.

“Thats it whatever happens tonight I’m telling him!” However it would have to wait until tonight. Today he would be doing something he’d promised himself he’d never do (again anyways). Today he was going to visit his stepfather on the pride prison. Every level of hell had a punishment level for the worst sinners.

His stepfather was on the pride punishment level. Despite the fact he felt he should be on the lust punishment level for how he treated his sister and Esmeralda. Each ring was ruled over by a demon that represented each of the seven sins… unfortunately all of the sins happened to be his family. His uncle, Asmodeus was in charge of the lust ring as well as its punishment level, His aunt Beelzebub ran gluttony, his uncle Mammon (who found incredibly annoying just by watching his ads) ran Greed, his uncle Satan was in charge of wrath, Leviathan was in charge of Envy and Belphegor was in charge sloth.

He’d visited his uncle Asmodeus a few times trying to meet the rest of his family while also trying to ask his uncle advice on the subject of love since he himself had a boyfriend. His uncle was dating a weird part robot in clown named Fizzarolli or fiz for short. They seemed happy but he’d been a little uncomfortable at first to talk about these things. Though his uncle’s soft spoken tone calmed him enough that he was able to open up to him about his crush on Angel.

Though knowing what he knew now his uncle would be enraged to find out how Valentino treated Angel… not to mention the love potions he sold on the side. As his uncle put it Lust and love were all about consent otherwise it wasn’t lust… it was rape. He’d only spoken with Aunt Beelzebub once when his uncle Asmodeus or “Ozzie” as he preferred to be called had taken to a party his aunt was hosting.

His aunt Bee was surgery sweet and full of energy. She also talked a lot. But she was probably his favorite aunt ever! He hadn’t met his other relatives. He’d seen his uncle Mammon from his ads and decided to avoid meeting him. As for his other relatives he hadn’t met them yet.

His uncle, Satan sounded a little bit intense considering the sin he represented. Leviathan also scared him as he kept imagining a giant snake which freaked him out. As for His aunt Belphegor… she was the sin of Sloth and from what aunt bee had told him she was pretty laid back so he’d hopefully visit her soon. However he still wished he could hand Frollo over to his uncle Ozzie.

His uncle had apparently even offered to take him after hearing what he did to Charlie but decided to his father handle it. Considering his father, Lucifer was the sin of pride. After all… pride is what got him cast out from heaven. He waited at the door before the guard cleared him in. If Charlie knew where he was she’d be furious.

The first time he’d visited his former stepfather he’d yelled and freaked out. However that had been a month ago. His stepfather was a completely different man. His stepfather didn’t even look human anymore. He looked like a classic depiction of a demon.

He had red skin and glowing gold eyes. Curved black horns sprouted from a messy crop of white hair. He wore a black prison jumpsuit his clawed hands in shackles. “Well, well well, if isn’t the prince of hell. Come to mingle with the commoners… your majesty?”Frollo said mockingly.

Quasi’s eyes flashed red but he managed to keep his composure. “I heard you tried to escape.” Frollo chuckled. “Tried to I did! Not that it did me any good I barely made it to the gate before the seraphim cast me back down to this… hell hole!”

“Because you belong down here… or did you forget how you treated me.” Frollo sighed. “You know what I learned boy?”

“What? That you’re a pain in my a- “That you’re right.” Quasi blinked slowly taken aback as he tried to process what he’d just said. “Wha… what?”

He was in shock. “Did he just say I’m right?! It’s got to be a trick right… right?!”

“You’re right. I treated you like garbage. I was a pretty shitty father.”

“You weren’t my father! You abused me! Do you have any idea the literal hell you put me through?! And you expect me to forgive you…just like that?!”

“I never asked for your forgiveness… I was just saying you were right. Am I not allowed to voice my own opinion?” Quasi shook his head confused tears in his eyes. “Just stop talking… I don’t want to hear anymore!” Frollo shrugged.

“Fine. I don’t care. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Quasi sighed frustrated. He couldn’t believe his stepfather had changed within a full month.

It was impossible… what could have happened to him down here to change him so drastically? “You know what else I learned down here?” Frollo said smugly as he reclined back in his chair. “I’ve learned that once you’re down here it doesn’t matter what you do… what sin you commit down here. You’re never going to be allowed into heaven so you might as well just Sin to your hearts content.”

“After all… we’re all demons it’s what we’re good at… but you should know better than anyone… after all your related to the sins… aren’t you?” Quasi glared at him. “I don’t have time for this I have to- what where’s the rush? You don’t have a hot date do you?” Frollo smirked when quasi twitched slightly.

“Oh… oh dear you do…don’t you? “Who is she?” Quasi turned to leave. “I have to go.” Frollo grinned.

“Oh pardon me. I think I meant to say who is “he”?” Quasi growled. “That’s none of your business!” Frollo laughed.

“My… haven’t we been a naughty boy. Of course you’d end up being gay. I’m Pansexual you asshole he… could have been a she why do you care?” Frollo laughed. “Just tell me?Who is he?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!” Frollo shrugged. “Fine… doesn’t matter… I will find out eventually… though for now it seems our time is up.” Frollo said as the guard opened the door. “Good. I don’t know what game you’re playing but you can’t fool me. You’ll never change!”

Frollo stared up at his step-son as his face disappeared behind the large steel door. “If only that were true boy.” Frollo said sounding sad as he was enveloped in the darkness of his cell.

—————————————————

“Was I imagining things? He actually sounded… sad. Have I made I mistake?” Quasi shook his head. No he got what he deserved.”

But part of him still felt conflicted. Luckily he ran into literal distraction. He was passing by the open door of a club when he saw Angel dancing on the stage inside. A crowd of demons gathered around the stage as he danced around a pole. Quasi watched, mesmerized.

He’d never seen this side of Angel. It only made his feelings for him that much stronger. When Angel finished his dance quasi decided to slip out of the club however Angel had spotted him chasing after him. By the time Angel had caught up with him he was already a good bit away from the club which was good so they wouldn’t be bothered by fans.

“Quasi!” Turned around finally noticing Angel. “A-Angel?”

“What the hell I’ve been trying to catch up with ya’ for a quarter of a block… why you avoiding me?” Quasi turned bright red. “Who me? I’m not avoiding anything? Why would I be avoiding you?” Angel frowned.

“Alright spill it!” Quasi sighed. The truth is… quasi hesitated but then he came up with the perfect excuse. “I went to see my step father today.”

“The one who hit you?”

“Yeah.” Quasi chuckled you know he actually had me convinced he’d changed… but I know better. He’ll never change.” Angel patted him on the back. “Let’s go home.”

“I’d like that.” Quasi said smiling. “I saw you at the club. Did you catch my show?”

“Oh… well I did.” He said awkwardly. “Y-you’re a very good dancer.” Angel laughed at how red his face was turning.

When they got back to the hotel he went straight up to his room. However Angel grabbed his hand before he could open the door. “Quasi?” He turned bright red. “Y-yes?” Angel guided him into the room as he shut the door and locked it.

Quasi turned even redder as he stumbled over his words. “I-I should go.” Angel blocked the door. “Not until you tell me what’s going on. You’ve been avoiding me don’t think I haven’t noticed! So what the hell is going on with you?”

Quasi covered his ears. “Quasi answer me? Quasi- I LOVE YOU!” Quasi finally blurted out. Angel blinked taken aback.

Quasi sighed. “I’m in love with you… I felt this way for a while.” Angel sighed. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was ashamed… and embarrassed and… confused. I’d never felt this feeling for another man it felt… it felt scary. My stepfather, when he was alive always told me that feeling this way for another man was a sin. But you were so beautiful and I’m- the prince of hell?” Angel said smiling.

Quasi sighed. “You know what I meant. I’m ugly. I’m sorry. Angel sighed. “Yer’ not ugly Quas… far from it.”

Yer’ beautiful in your own way. Yer’ smart and funny and kind… I mean my name’s not even really Angel and yer’ more of an Angel than I’ll ever be… and i ain’t talking literally either.” Quasi smiled wiping a tear out of his eyes.

“You mean it?” Angel nodded. “I do.” Angel sighed. “Look Quas… I’m flattered… and I really like you but… I can’t.” Quasi sighed.

“I understand.”

“It’s not you. It’s my boss. He’s not like you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m not afraid of that dumb moth!”

“How’d you know he was a moth.”

“From the posters around town.” Quasi said as an excuse. “He’s more than your boss isn’t he?” Angel suddenly looked angry. “That ain’t your business.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to see you get hurt either!”

“What’s that supposed ta’ mean?” Quasi flinched. “I…I- have you been following me? Angel said outraged. “I only followed you once I swear! I was worried about you I didn’t mean to… to… what the hell did you see! Answer me!”

“I’m sorry.” Quasi sobbed as he fell to his knees covering his face. Angel felt betrayed but no matter how angry he was he couldn’t stay mad at him. He’d only been trying to help. “Ah come here.”

“Stop yer’ cryin’ I’m not mad.” Angel said pulling him close. Quasi flinched unsure of what was going on. “You’re… you’re not mad?” Angel grinned.

“Nah you were just trying to do the right thing. Just promise not to do anything stupid ‘kay” Quasi wiped his tears away. “I promise.” Quasi stood up to leave but Angel grabbed his arm. “I wasn’t lying though. I do like you… a lot.”

Quasi turned bright red. I… angel sat down on his bed patting a spot next to him. “Sit down.” Quasi flinched as Angel grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed. Quasi sat down awkwardly.

A-Angel I… before he could say anything Angel kissed him. Not roughly but gently on the lips. The kiss was long and felt like it would go on forever. “I can’t!” Quasi said pulling away shaking. Angel frowned.

“What? What’s wrong? I thought you liked me?” Quasi folded his arms. “I do… I really do. It just… well… I’ve never… Angel’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! You’ve never had sex before? You’re kidding.”

“I was raised in a church what do you think?” Angle laughed. “Yeah yer right I fergot about that.” quasi sighed. “It’s more than that… no one’s… ever treated me nicely before. I’ve always been hit or beaten I’m afraid of getting hurt again . Angel sighed. “Oh quasi. I’d never do that to you. I promise… look… we don’t have to do anything serious right away let’s start off with whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Well… could you…kiss me…again?” Angel laughed. “Sure why not.”

That night quasi fell asleep with Angel curled against his chest. He’d never thought it possible but here he was. He knew it would be a while before he got over his fear of intimacy but he was glad Angel was being patient with him. He sighed. But this was going to hurt worse than any beating he’d gotten from Frollo. “I’m sorry Angel I know I promised not do anything stupid but… it looks like I’m going to have to break that promise… I hope you’ll forgive me. I love you.”

He kissed Angel on the cheek as he flew out the window wings spread wide as he flew off into the night. Little did he realize his fears would only grow worse.

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

I witnessed something kind of heartbreaking and kind of infuriating today, so here's a vent about it

Trigger warning for animal cruelty, and for... just a really fucking sad situation, I guess

Also, the events here are not entirely in order, it's been a fucking emotional roller coaster of a day and I'm writing this at... well I don't remember what time it was when I started but it's 5am 6am now, I had to get it all out into words outside my head and there was only so much editing I could do on my current level of brainpower, so some of what I say in here will make more sense once you read further

Things had been going well enough. Unexpectedly well, actually. We had planned to see my grandparents this weekend and we took one of our dogs with us and stopped for coffee on the way and just generally made a day of it, got to the campground they're staying at and got to hang out with them and their puppy and my aunt and uncle and baby cousin, we all had lunch and my granddad took a few of us out on the boat to ride around the lake, which I had been looking forward to

All in all it had been a really nice day

But someone had the idea to go check out the campground's petting zoo, and well, things went pretty severely downhill from there

We were walking around the back of the sheds beside a more open enclosure, I was sort of lagging behind so I hadn't seen yet what was causing a disturbance, but I caught up to my grandma right as she was about to call the management of the place, saying it looked like a mama goat was in distress and asking if they were aware

Basically what this lady told her over the phone was "oh yeah we know, she's probably not going to make it, she just had triplets and there's not really anything we can do" and I guess she was like, grossly nonchalant about it, based on my grandma's description

I hadn't heard it all, just enough to know there was something going on with a mama goat, she wasn't doing well, and that the management knew about it

I think I hadn't fully processed it yet, as I was missing chunks of context and I hadn't actually seen it for myself, because I thought vaguely "oh that's kinda sad," but once I took in the full situation?

When I tell you I was devastated-

I got past the clumsy wooden walls to the open part of the pen, where there was a goat lying on her side, seemingly unable to move but for a feeble kick of her legs every now and then and the rolling of her eyes. She had collapsed- presumably- outside her shelter, in the hot, bright sun, left unshielded from the elements and unable to even get any water to cool down, as she lay slowly dying out in the open for all to see, alone but for the tiny, fragile kids that depended on her for their own survival. There was a small tub of water in the pen, but the nanny couldn't get up to walk over to it, and it was too tall to be of any use to the kids. I watched one of them push at it, trying to knock it over with his itty bitty head.

My mom, who's been a major animal person since childhood, was very much not ok with the whole scene (neither were the rest of us, but she sort of led the way). She went into the pen, along with me, my sister, and my aunt, while my grandma kept trying to figure out if anyone who worked here gave a shit about the animals in their care

There's a gap here where I lost track of what everyone else was doing. I was busy approaching the little goat by the water tub, tipping it enough for him to get a drink, and then fending off his repeated attempts to eat my shoelaces. He was a hell of a cute little guy, and trouble right out the gate. I was a bit caught up in his adorable antics for a moment, but the instant attachment I felt toward the little guy would end up making the rest of our time there all the more painful as I considered his bleak future through a lens of irrational, protective affection. I scooped him up in my arms so he'd stop chasing my laces and we could focus on the more serious problem at hand without tripping over him

Her baby in my arms, I turn my attention back to the suffering mama goat. My mom dips her cupped hand in the tub of water and offers it to the nanny, to one of the kids, and we follow her example. I stand between the nanny and the harsh sunlight and arrange first my sister and later my aunt to stand beside me and cover her body more effectively in shadow, offering her some small respite in whatever ways we can.

The matrons of my family are fighting the good fight with the campsite workers, over the phone as well as in person- once someone finally deigned to show up- much more calmly than I possibly could have done, but it's obvious to us my mom is furious (as she should be).

As for me, over the course of all of it, taking in the scene- the ailing creature at my feet, the knowledge that she wasn't expected to survive, that her and her kids were virtually being left to starve or succumb to illness or bake to death in the sun, that these babies might watch their mother die and wither away beside her, all while some dirtbag humans who either had no fucking clue what they were doing or just didn't care and in any case had no right to possess these animals practically stood by and did nothing but bitch at the witnesses with hearts- I was crying. I kept crying, on and off and on again. I kept having to look away just to get control of myself. At one point I was slipping dangerously into a fit of public sobbing and had to bite down so hard on the skin of my wrist that I'm pretty sure there are still marks now, almost twelve fourteen hours later.

The woman who eventually showed up reiterated that the nanny had had triplets and that there wasn't much they could do, and when my mom tried to argue with her, she started pulling shit like asking my mom if she even had any animals of her own, suggesting she didn't know what she was talking about, and stating that "sometimes nature just has to take its course"

First of all, my mom has had animals most of her life. Maybe not farm animals, but still.

Second and more importantly in terms of relevance and knowledge, our next door neighbor literally raises goats. My mom is always home and talks to this woman a lot; she's seen and heard plenty about these goats and their care, and has in fact helped birth new kids when one of the goats went into labor while the owner was MIA.

She also had done her research and prepared and overall been very aware and responsible when one of our dogs had a litter of puppies, and under her prepping and care all ten puppies and their mom survived and were healthy.

So like. Don't fucking say my mom doesn't know what she's talking about, when you literally leave your animals in a state in which they don't even have access to the most basic of necessities for survival and she actually does have a background with the type of situation at hand.

Also, our neighbor's goats have had multiples and been ok with a little bit of assistance when necessary, so them suggesting that her health was a lost cause purely on the principle of her having had triplets is highly suspicious and their general evasiveness, nonchalance, and obvious oversights make it seem pretty damn clear which party doesn't fucking know what they're doing

And, what the fuck do you mean "nature just has to take its course???" Like yeah ok sometimes things go wrong sometimes animals get hurt or sick and they die and that's just a part of life, but this isn't the fucking wild, this is a setting where you have chosen to be responsible for these animals, their lives and welfare literally depend on you and it is your responsibility to take that seriously and to provide for them and not to just let a mother fucking suffer a slow agonizing death and let the babies starve.

If you really have tried treating her like you say (doubtful) and if the owner/boss of the place is really a vet (highly doubtful), then why the hell are you allegedly unable or unwilling to put the poor thing out of her misery? No seriously they told us the owner was a vet, and then turned around and told us they couldn't euthanize the goat when my mom said that that would be the more humane thing to do. Literally the least you could do here, and as my dad pointed out, even if for some reason their "vet" boss didn't have access to the necessary drugs, they could just shoot her. It would be quicker, it would be over

Someone was sent out to carry the goat to the office (for some reason? I don't know what their plan was from there) but she wasn't strong enough to carry her that far, she said she'd have to wait for so-and-so to get back so he could carry her instead, but in the meantime she at least dragged the nanny into the shade of the shed. It would probably be her final resting place. We found a smaller container elsewhere in the pen and filled it with water for the kids, but it won't do them much good on the 2 feedings per day the office promised us they'd be receiving (newborn kids need to be fed at the very least 4 times a day).

Unfortunately we had predetermined plans set for that evening that involved other people, so we couldn't stay any longer, we had to get home. Before we left, my sister and I carried the babies into the shed to be with their mother for however much time she had remaining, my mom rushing us, getting snappy in the way she has a tendency to do when she's distressed and taking her anger out on the wrong people, because it's socially acceptable to be impatient and harsh with your own kids but it's not to cuss out other adults in public, even if they really deserve it. I could barely speak but I croaked out a "we're coming" laced with a reflexive returning bite, my own defensive tendency to the pattern. I tried to plant a kiss on the furry head of the kid I was holding but I was shaky and I think I missed; I whispered to him "I hope they don't let you starve," bit back another sob, set him down and walked away

I think this whole thing was like. A canon event for me. I just really genuinely don't understand how someone can be so indifferent to the lives in their care, when we- a random group of strangers who hadn't known any of these goats even existed until then- were so thoroughly caught up and distraught over their fate that we stood with a dying animal and did whatever precious little we could with none of their alleged credentials or experience or resources. Where are your fucking ethics? Where is your humanity? It is your job to do something about this and yet you sound like you're mad at us for trying to get you to do just that. God I want those goats to be ok, and I also want that petting zoo to be shut down and all the animals relocated to homes that will actually care for them. But life isn't fair, and that isn't what will happen, and chances are those babies are going to lose their mother- if they haven't already, by now- and then their lives, and the people responsible will just continue about their own, unchanged. How can you be unchanged? You probably knew those goats' names. I didn't have even that much information and yet I cried for them like they were my own. I will never understand you, and I don't want to

[e-louise-bates]

I'm 11k words into the MMD rewrite (all brand-new words except for about half a dozen, just so we're clear), and have hit my first major snag, which is that in the original, after witnessing the murder, Maia and Len scarper out of the woods, Len persuades Maia that they shouldn't inform the police, and she reluctantly agrees after he tells her he's an agent for the government, and then she goes home and just tamely gets ready for Aunt Amelia's visit while wondering what's happening, and Len goes back to Little Oaks and waits to see what will happen next.

Yeah, that's not going to cut it anymore. That's not Maia OR Len, and it doesn't make any sense story-wise, either. WHY on earth should Len just sit around and twiddle his thumbs waiting for developments with the body, and HOW on earth would Maia just be like, ok, well, that was dramatic, time to make up the guest room!

I don't want to give away spoilers for the new story, but let's just say that while the first 11k words have hewed pretty closely to the events of the original story, just written better (to be brutally honest), things are taking a turn now, and I'm intensely curious as to where we're going from here.

Alas, today has to be spent at least in part in house-cleaning, as we have friends coming over tomorrow afternoon, so I can't write all day, but I intend to fit in as much as I can between chores!

[herooffire101]

Already, we're heading to one of the two fics I've written for Tuggerulina Week that is more...sad, for lack of a better word. Today's prompt was First Kiss, and I may had listened to some music while writing the end. @jelliclekay enjoy!

It was a quiet night among the troubled kids.

Bomba found him, up on a semi-hidden peak within the yard, starting up into the sky. Her left thigh throbbed a bit as the hours-old cuts that Macavity left on her slowed her down just a tad. Bomba, worried about Tugger, escaped the careful eye of her Aunt Jelly and Jenny. ‘Macavity really rocked our world today.’ Bomba thought, thinking back to Macavity. An adult cat already, he was giving Bomba herself unwanted advances, and Bomba could tell that he wanted her to do the Mating Dance with him, to be his mate, but she wasn’t having it. She could feel his magic, and as they grew up, his magic was at first okay, not really bad and certainly not repulsive, but as they got older, his magic aura just got darker and darker, and increasingly repulsive. It was now so powerful and dark that Bomba could taste it, and it tasted completely horrible. The closer he was to her made her want to choke because it was so bad she couldn’t breathe. Today, however, was the last straw. She snapped at him, her inner magic lashing out, her inner Flames of Creation lashing out, as her grandfather explained to her. She had the magic of the Theater Cat, and it was pushing back against Macavity’s more destructive magic. This event caused what Grandpa said the cards to collapse. “I will not be your Mate, Macavity! My heart does not belong to you!” Bomba words echoed in her head, as she looked at her best friend. He witnessed it, the entire confrontation. James, Dad, AND Skimble had to pull his eldest brother off of Bomba as he eviscerated her right thigh. Aunt Jelly and Jenny were worried that they would have to take her back to Jelly’s humans again, but luckily they didn’t need to. However, they did bandage it and tried to keep her in the medical den, but Bomba escaped. She needed to see Tugger. Limping, she went up to his left side, and laid herself down, right next to him, mindful of her bandages. “That was something. I didn’t think that he would do that.”

“…I don’t know what to think.” Tugger finally said after a few moments, looking out at the night sky, and the distant lights of the city. “He’s my big brother. I can even tell you’ve been brushing off his advances. You never liked him.”

“I know!” Bomba agreed, rubbing up closer to him. “His aura, Tugger. His aura is repulsive to me.”

A silence between them, their tails slowly intertwining with each other. “…His aura?” Tugger asked, speaking the silence.

Bomba sighed. “I keep forgetting that no one else can feel or see magic like me. Tugger, I see magic, and feel it too. I can identify any cat with magic. Grandpa Gus has it too, but mine is a whole lot stronger than his.”

“Oh.” A silence followed, Tugger’s paw finding its way to Bomba’s. “Do I have magic?”

“Yea.” A beat. “Yours is my favorite. Munk is comfortable, protective, but not my right one.”

“What does Dad feel like?”

“Like yours, but older.”

Tugger sputtered. “That can’t be right. Munk’s the heir. I’m just the annoying disappointment.”

Bomba huffed. “Deuteronomy and Grandpa explained to me earlier while Aunty and Jenny were bandaging me up why he tried to make me his mate.”

“Why?” Tugger asked, side-eying her, as she just faced towards the outside of the yard.

“I am like Grizabella.” Bomba said, her eyes never moving, “I’m able to have kittens with magic.”

It didn’t take Tugger long for it to click. “You are able to have magical kittens?!?”

“Yes, you dingus!” Bomba snapped, finally facing him. “If I mate with either Mac, Munk, or you, there is a chance that the kitten will be the Heir to the Tribe!”

“Then are you going to be mates with Munk?”

“No, idiot.”

A beat. And then another beat. “Wait, ME!?!”

“YES, YOU INSUFFERABLE DINGWAD!!!”

“B-but…”

“My magic is repulsed by Macavity. Munkustrap is compatible but is not my true mate.” Bomba glared at him, annoyed. “Neither can be my mate because my magic already chose my mate.”

“Who?” Tugger challenged.

Bombalurina groaned and grumbled. “What a massive idiot you are.” She looked into his eyes, and let her magic pulse, feeling in the bond that her magic made when they first met. “You. You are my mate. The Everlasting Cat destined us to be mates.”

“But you’re Bombalurina. You can have anyone you want!” Tugger said, trying to deny it.

“THE RUM TUM TUGGER, LISTEN TO ME.” She snapped, grabbing a fistful of his mane. “YOU carry the same magical aura as Old Deuteronomy. YOU have the ability to have everyone listen to you. YOU are able to calm me. YOU are my True Mate, and that is something that is once in a few generations, and it tends to happen in my bloodline, according to Grandpa.” She took a breath and relaxed her hold on his mane. Tugger sat there, flabbergasted at her. “Yes, I can have anyone I want, but Tugger. I want you. What I didn’t say was that my heart belonged to someone else, and that cat is you.” Bomba sighed, and sat back down, not facing him. “I just don’t want to be like my mother.”

A stunned silence. She could feel his eyes on her, and his magic reaching out, almost hesitantly. She let her magic relax and welcome his earthlier warmth against her flame’s warmth. What she didn’t say that while similar in magic, Old Deuteronomy had more of a Water magic aura like Munkustrap, while Tugger had the same feel of magic as Old Deut, his was perfectly mixed with Grizabella’s Earth magic. Tugger felt...scared, but also hopeful. “You…want me.” His voice felt full of bravado, but even Bomba could hear the unsureness.

“Whatever words I say,” Bomba said, her emerald green eyes facing the stars, “I will always love you.” It was a bit before she felt Tugger lightly moving her head to face his, and she felt his lips on hers, kissing her. She reciprocated, purring. Both their foreheads touched. “I will always love you.”

~~~~

I may have listened to the Cure’s Lovesong during the last paragraph. Also, for readers who make it down to the this author's note, tomorrow's fic I feel will make you have emotions, because I feel like i went hard on tomorrow's prompt.

[heartstopper-lover123]

I'm going to go on a rant now

So, something I love about tattoo shows, is I feel safe. I hate social situations, I have panic attacks if I'm around too many people. But at tattoo shows, all of that fear goes away. Because I know, no one cares how I look, or how I act. People at these events are all unique in our own way, so we just want to look at all the tattoo designs, buy crystals and wierd things, and watch awesome shows from awesome and talented people like the fuel girls. I feel 'normal' around these people. I feel like I belong. I can be me. There are queer people, people who fit outside of 'social norms'. There are people with crazy hairstyles, and no hair at all. There are people with no space on their body for any more tattoos, and people with none, or just a few. There are people who dress with very little coverage, and some who are fully covered. There are people with horns, and crazy eye contacts, and people with fucking awesome outfits. People with coloured hair (like the girl I fell in love with today who had bi coloured hair, I really wanted a photo with her!). Anyway, this place is everything to me. I hate the outside world, but this world, this amazing, abnormal, tattoo crazy world, is what makes me feel alive, what makes me want to be alive.

The outside world is horrible. People are judgmental, and rude. Today alone, I was treated horribly on 2 separate occasions

1) I was outside the hall of the show, at a Costa in the building I'm going to get a table, and there's 2 people talking about the inside of the building. On the other side to mine there was a religious convention (I think for jehovah witnesses). Anyway, they were saying how on their side, everyone is dress politely and appropriately, fully covered up. And I quote 'but that side they just don't care do they'. They shook their heads and tutted. I walk past and sit down. They stare at me for a good 5 or 6 seconds. You wanna know why? I was wearing a hellfire shirt (from stranger things). I don't have tattoos, or crazy hair. My shirt, with a devil like creature on it and a ball amd chain, meant they thought they had the right to look at me in disgust. I find it funny honestly. It took everything in me to not do the Eddie Munson horns at them and pike my tongue out. To say something to signify the worshipping of the devil. Honestly, these people need to get actual lives

2) the other one was when my mum, aunt and I were walking towards the other end if the building to leave, and an old lady stared at all three of us, and went 'sinners'. We all laughed about it and walked away, and then did the Eddie Munson horns to ourselves. It is insane to me how these people can be so rude and judgemental. It's actually hilarious

This is why I love tattoo shows, no one to judge you, people and polite and are themselves. No one cares, they are in their own worlds. That's the way I like it. That's my answer when people ask 'why do you got to those tattoo shows when you're only 14?'

[sequoiareachesforthesky]

Today I wanted to talk about family structures and how diverse they can be and then it derailed into talks about education. Like the woke public schools that conservatives are so afraid of, that kind of things. Enjoy!

Warning : rambling. A lot of it.

Thank Satan I grew up surrounded by somewhat diverse family structures that didn't all fit the "straight married couple with 2.5 children" archetype, because being taught that this is the one and only way to live a happy life sounds scary to me.

My aunt divorced in her late 30s and is currently living her best life with her new boyfriend. And nobody makes a fuss about it, like good for her and her ex-husband if they needed to end their relationship. Divorce is healthy.

I have three uncles, none of them ever got married. I don't know much about my mom's brothers but my other uncle has been single for as long as I can remember and is absolutely thriving. He spends time with his friends, and puts time into his passions (mainly old cars). And never has anyone in my family said anything about him being single. Or even suggested that it should be something to be talked about. Because guess what, it's not a fucking problem and people aren't defined by their relationship status.

My mom went to a lesbian wedding when I was around 8 (I remember being very disappointed that I couldn't come with her because I've never been to a wedding before and it sounded like a lot fun). She made sure to show me and my siblings pictures and videos of the event. To make sure we understand that there's no problem with a family composed of two moms and a daughter (she was from one of the brides' previous marriage, again with divorce being treated a totally normal part of life, because it is).

I also grew up in a place where multicultural and mixed families were basically the norm I feel? At least that's how I was seeing it. The fact that my classmates had parents from overseas, or ethnically marked features wasn't a big deal (that's also why I'm now still very bad at recognising said "ethnic features" or foreign accents, or even knowing where names are from, because I didn't see any of those things as a difference honestly. Like how do people go "ah yes, this person is definitely from Eastern Europe". Like what??? How???). Anyway, that may be why for a while, I really struggled to understand why racism existed as a child. Like I knew it existed, I was told it was bad but I didn't understand why it was a thing in the first place (but isn't the case for most children? We're just here to enjoying the slides in the playground, we have no idea about the colonial heritage of our societies)

(sidenote: I may be mixed myself (wasian) but the history and current societal impact of racism is definitely not a topic I would say I'm very knowledgeable about. And of course looking back on it I did hold racist beliefs as a kid and there were instances when I witnessed structural racism. It just took me a while to realise it and to try to become a better person. My point here is about family structures and how I personally was exposed to a lot of mixed families, including my own, and that in that sense, race and culture have never been something I could have worried about when thinking about the idea of "founding a family". Like whatever happens happens you know)

And that's not even going into all of the friends I had who were raised by only one parent, the ones who would spend one week at their mom's then one week at their dad's, the ones who got nieces/nephews because they had much older siblings (sometimes step siblings), the ones who were adopted, and so on and so forth. So yeah, to me, it's normal for families to come in all shapes and forms. That's why nowadays, when I get introduced to new views of family and relationships, it doesn't really take me long to get it.

Sometimes I think back on my childhood and realise that I got actually pretty lucky to be in contact with many kinds of family structures, with none presented as more correct or desirable. Because now that I'm older and that I've met people who are very cautious about sticking to traditions (*cough* catholic bourgeois *cough*) and who even get anxious at the idea that they won't be able to get their straight wedding with three children that they shall raise in a pavillion in the suburbs, I really think that damn, it must suck to be them.

Anyway, judging others for having a view of "family" differing from your own is cringe, and I really think we should queer the world a bit more because why were my 12 year-old classmates so surprised when I told them that polyamory is fine to me (and even a logical way to look at love and relationships in my brain), that I didn't wanna have children later, and that I didn't if I would get a husband or a wife later, or if I would get married at all. I remember the shock in their eyes and being very confused as to why, because I was like "uuuuh, I thought homophobia didn't exist anymore? And that people should live the way they want?" (Also I've recently been diagnosed with ASD after being in denial about it my whole life so that may explain some things, since you know, the intersection between autistic and queer identities isn't even an intersection anymore).

This post was originally about family but since it intersects a lot with queerness, I just wanted to share a thought. Sometimes, I wonder if I could basically be considered as "assigned enby at birth" with how I was taught that gender doesn't matter and encouraged to be whomever I want to be without following gender norms. (This last paragraph is to be taken more as a joke than anything, but like honestly, that's why I never personally found the need to identify with the term "trans" or "non-binary". Because I just don't care personally, thanks to my upbringing. And that's why I'll always advocate for children to be exposed to queer content because me, my siblings, and probably most children from my community were and it makes for such healthier adults istg. Like yeah, I didn't care about my gender identity or whatever but the second I was put in an all girls school, I understood that it very much mattered to other people and that made me so furious, I totally get why so many people are attached to their queer identity. Because when you're in a fucking horrid environment, of course you're gonna have a strong emotional reaction to this stuff.)

All of this to say : I was raised by a woke family, went to a woke school that taught us that climate change is going to kill us all, that we should welcome all refugees, that beauty is found in difference and diversity, that disabled people should be accommodated (there was a class in my school for specially made for children with mental or learning disabilities because yes, they do have a right to education too actually), that children in general have rights and are not just objects, that solidarity is important (we made cakes for the local food bank when we were in kindergarten it was very cool. and many many fund-raising campaigns for people in need. we would mainly provide food and sanitary products, and the goal was to make a wall in the school hall with all of the collected products. it was great). We would sing songs about international solidarity and fighting against racism and water access inequalities at the school choir (looking back on it this feels a bit surreal to be frank). I was raised in the exact environment conservatives are freaking about. Heck the street where I lived was named after a communist song 😭. And you know what's the funniest thing about all that? It wasn't even that "woke". The way we were taught about societal stuff was a nice effort, but a bit clunky at times. There were still a lot, and I mean a lot of ableism against the students from the "special needs" class I talked about previously. I still got called a racist slur by a classmate when I was five. I still had so much stuff to unlearn as I got into teenage then adulthood.

What many would consider "woke" in the way I was brought up is, to me, the bare minimum. And that's why it hit me in the face like a baseball bat when I went from this great, though imperfect public school to a private middle school where boys and girls were separated in different classes. Where the students weren't mobilised to collect food for people in need in their local community but rather to pray for them and maybe give a little money to support missionary trips to Africa and things of the sorts. Where the school choir was mostly for learning Christian songs about thanking God for his eternal generosity. I was atheist btw, and attending religion class and masses were mandatory which felt a bit like infringing upon my freedom of religion but whatever I guess!! "Your parents chose to put you here so you don't have a say in the matter." a teacher once said.

So now, let me ask you a question and answer it immediately? Which of those two education systems is better? THE PUBLIC ONE OBVIOUSLY. I LOVED SCHOOL. I LOVED PEOPLE. I LOVE LIVING IN AN OPEN-MINDED COMMUNITY. AND THIS FUCKING PRIVATE CATHOLIC SCHOOL, WHICH ISN'T EVEN THE WORST OF ITS KIND BTW, ALMOST MADE ME FORGET ABOUT THIS LOVE. IT BROKE ME MENTALLY. IT COULD'VE TURNED ME INTO A PERSON I WOULD'VE HATED. AND FOR THAT I CAN NEVER FORGIVE IT. There might have been good individuals in this school, friends I made, teachers who were genuinely great people. But this school system wasn't made to help us grow into good people. You've heard it all before, how it just turns us into good employees how will preserve the system as it is, maintain the status quo.

When people tell me that education is better in private than in public school, it makes me laugh. I was always top of my class in this so called top-notch private school. Even though I was the public school kid. And even then, I would have been fucking humbled by students who spent their entire school years in the public system. Because those private school don't make you smarter, they won't help you get better grades. Even if they did, what good does it do? It's not about the grades. It's about being a person that finds their own path, their own way to live in society. Not necessarily this society, they can build their own. But how are we supposed to rely on each others and find community when we've been taught to always see the other as competition?

I wanted to talk about family structures and how diverse they can be, but I realize now that what I really I wanted to talk about is family as in finding each others, living together, embracing diversity and loving. In your own way, because there are so many different ways of loving, and so many people and things to love. But it's always love. It's caring. And this care for the people and the things about me, I got it from my education.

It's always about education.

[moonxsuncelestials]

Leaving the Oasis (Part 1)

Something wasn’t right. Jasper noticed it, judging from his fiance's posture and the fact she’d been staring at the thick wedding scrapbook that belonged to Syrina for over half an hour. The page was of different ideas on who could walk the bride down the aisle-Syrina had her brothers do that, in place of her father since he had passed away when she was a child. Yue had mentioned it before one night when they were discussing if she was going to walk down the aisle herself or if Set would do it. Yue wanted to include all of the men who had been a part of her life. Starting obviously with Set, her adopted father, and then to her big brothers, with her twin being the last one. 

Now Jasper had at first chalked it up to possibly just the stress of planning their wedding, which is to be held upon the New Lunar Year for both of their sakes. He will officially take on his birth mother’s title as Tsukiyomi, with Yue being his consort and wife. His Moonlight and be recognized as Queen in her own right. 

And that begged the question: Why was she hesitating? She was usually excited, though he had noticed a certain pattern in the twins’ talks lately. Still, best he asks it now. “Moonlight?” He called out to her causing her to jump. 

“I’m fine.” She answered too quickly and inwardly smacked herself. “Really, I am.” “Then why are you putting off going to see your big brother?” He asked as he returned with her hot tea whilst she sighed softly. “Is it because you’re nervous about his answer?” He needed to tread cautiously but his beloved nodded. 

“And…well…” She tucked a long strand of her translucent rose-pink hair behind her pointed ear before facing her lover. “Is it me or have you noticed that Yun has been getting more distant? All we ever seem to talk about is Alli and then he says he has other things that need his attention.” She was annoyed at this but she also didn’t want to lose Yun completely. 

Welp, that was part of the answer he expected. Having knowledge and wisdom of prior events, thanks to his transitioning into Tsukiyomi, Jasper has noticed a certain pattern developing between the twins. He could see the love that was still there, otherwise, Yun wouldn’t have bothered to stay within The Oasis and help Yue raise their teenage son. But Yun was holding something back from Yue, something the demigod couldn’t fathom yet he had a bad feeling that if the twins didn’t communicate…

Something tragic was going to happen.

Yue will admit that, yes, she has kinda noticed another pattern between herself and Yun. Ever since Ming Chi came into their lives, things in the house get pretty intense should the rui shi and Yun be in the same room. “Jaz, I’m worried and scared. Yun has nearly become a stranger to me. He’s been distant, hostile a few times-he’s always talking to himself and Castle won’t tell me why either. Says that it’s not his position to tell and even if he had, he asked me if I would still love Yun if I knew the truth-ARGH!”

She put her hands over her ears and shook her head. Maybe she is overthinking this, maybe she shouldn’t talk to Yun about the wedding today, but then she knew that she had to. This might be the only time she may have to be free to talk to him. “I don’t understand why she is constantly trying to make out my big brother as some kind of monster that I should stay away from.” Yue won’t deny that it is downright frightening whenever she sees them alone. She can tolerate the sniping up to a certain point, but she has witnessed how easily it is for Yun to become so cold and demonic-looking whenever he gives veiled threats at their aunt.

It’s gotten so bad she fears that they will physically assault each other. She had tried on numerous occasions to stop it, but it was nearly impossible; it got to the point where Yun said that so long as Ming Chi lived under her roof, he would not come lest it was for Aladin’s sake. That broke her heart but she respected his decision and tried to at least talk to him within his own house; but, this is where they’ve ended up.

“I keep seeing him standing in the middle of a bridge, me behind him, but he’s too far for me to reach. And then…he vanishes.” A vision, one that she has been dismissing as just overthinking things and that she is stressed to the max, that’s all. Yun loves the kids, he’d never just vanish into thin air. So why is she feeling like something HORRIBLE is going to happen? No, I’m just overwhelmed and nervous because I rarely get to talk to Yun about these things. He’s not a monster, just rough around the edges like Jackal is. And the more she thought about it, the more that thought made sense.

 “I just want my big brother to walk me down the last part of the aisle. But a part of me is asking, what if I’m making a mistake in asking him to be in our wedding party? He can only be civil to Aunt Ming Chi for so long and I’ve seen what he’s capable of. I’m scared that one day they are going to get so heated that they’re going to-”

[daystar-by-jacqui-natla]

11. VALENTINE

VIOLET KHOTLER

THE HUM OF THE HUMMINGBIRD'S WINGS was barely perceptible as it fluttered near the window. Its iridescent feathers caught the faint, pale light of the morning, creating fleeting glimmers of color amidst the grey haze that clung to the outside world. I watched its delicate dance with a strange sense of detachment, my thoughts miles away, my mind still tethered to the events of the day before. My fingers traced the edges of the journal on my lap—a small, leather-bound book that once belonged to my mother. Her words were etched into the pages with a precision that mirrored her meticulous nature, but even now, they felt incomplete, hollow somehow.

I flipped to the next page, my eyes scanning the elegant cursive....

15th October 1984

I don't know how I should explain it, let alone how I should write it down. Melissa was supposed to meet me at the cafeteria today and I was wondering where she was or what she was doing. I asked a couple of my friends about her whereabouts and they all said the same thing: at Dr. Joham's classroom. And that class ended four hours ago. Taking their words, I headed to the classroom.

And that was one thing that I wished I didn't.

As I approached the door, I heard groaning and moaning and grunting. My heart raced, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I paused, unsure if I should knock or just leave. But my curiosity got the better of me. Slowly, I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open just a crack to peek inside.

What I saw left me speechless. There was Melissa, lying flat on the desk, and Dr. Joham on top of her.

I froze in shock, unable to process what I was witnessing. Melissa and Dr. Joham seemed completely absorbed in each other, their actions unmistakably intimate. I quickly pulled back and closed the door quietly, my mind racing with a mix of disbelief, confusion and a sinking feeling of betrayal.

I retreated down the hallway, feeling numb and unsure of what to do next. My thoughts were a jumble of questions and emotions. How long has this been going on? Was Melissa involved with Dr. Joham before? Did she hide this from me deliberately? The trust I felt for Melissa and the admiration I held for Dr. Joham's teaching were suddenly shattered.

Melissa. Baxter. The name now felt heavier, laden with implications I hadn't yet begun to process. A week had passed since we'd returned from Imperial College, since we'd stood before that cold, stark memorial and faced the ghost of a woman who might very well be my aunt—or at least, a blood relative I had never known existed.

Aunt Melissa.

The words were foreign on my tongue, and yet the connection was undeniable. I had spent hours scouring my mother's journals after our return, piecing together fragments of conversations, experiments, and vague references that hinted at a deeper relationship with Melissa than just friendship. And then there was the figure—the mysterious woman with the blonde hair, whose presence still lingered like a shadow in the back of my mind. Who was she, and what did she want from us? From me?

The room was silent save for the quiet scratch of my pen against the journal, the faint echo of the hummingbird's wings. I couldn't shake the feeling that this—everything that had happened over the past week—was leading to something, a convergence of past and present that would force me to confront not only my mother's legacy but also the secrets my father had kept from me.

"Violet?"

Ingram's voice cut through the quiet, startling me out of my thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his expression soft but tinged with concern. The light from the hallway outlined his silhouette, casting long shadows across the floor. His eyes, always so sharp and steady, held a question he wasn't ready to voice.

"Hey," I said, closing the journal and placing it on the side table. "Everything alright?"

He stepped into the room, his movements measured, as if he didn't want to disturb the stillness that lingered between us. "I was about to ask you the same thing. You've been quiet since we got back."

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Just... thinking. About Melissa. About the woman at the memorial. About everything."

Ingram crossed the room in a few long strides and sat beside me on the edge of the bed. He reached out, his hand warm as it found mine, threading his fingers through mine. His touch was grounding, pulling me back from the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.

"I get it," he said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "But you don't have to carry all of this alone. We're in this together, remember?"

I smiled, though it felt faint. "I know. It's just... I feel like there's something right in front of me, something I should be seeing, but I can't make sense of it yet."

"You will," Ingram said, his voice full of quiet confidence. "We will."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of our shared uncertainty hanging in the air like a question waiting to be answered. Outside, the fog was thick, clinging to the streets like a suffocating blanket, obscuring everything in its path. It felt symbolic—appropriate even. Everything was shrouded in mist now, including the truth about my family.

"I was thinking about something," I said, breaking the silence. Ingram turned his gaze to me, his brow furrowing slightly in curiosity. "About Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day?" He repeated the words slowly, as if they were foreign to him. "That's tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, staring down at our hands. "I never really celebrate it, mostly because my dad wouldn't let me do so. Because why would a killer deserve that..."

Ingram's eyes softened, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not a killer, Violet. Not anymore."

His words hung in the air, but they did little to pierce the darkness that had settled deep within me. I pulled my hand away, standing abruptly and walking to the window. The hummingbird was gone, leaving only the fog in its place, pressing against the glass as if the outside world was trying to seep in, to drown me in its obscurity.

"I was," I said quietly, almost to myself. "Once. And no matter how much time passes, no matter how much I try to change, I can still feel it—like an echo inside me. A part of me that can never be undone."

Ingram was silent for a moment, his gaze following me as I stood at the window, watching the fog swirl outside. The weight of my words hung between us, heavy and undeniable. I wasn't looking for comfort or reassurance—I knew the truth of my past, and no amount of kind words could erase it.

"You were forced into a life you never chose," Ingram finally said, his voice steady but laced with an intensity that made me turn to face him. "And yeah, you did things. We all have. But that's not who you are now. You're not that person anymore, Violet. You're here, with me, with the family, trying to do the right thing."

I crossed my arms, hugging myself as I leaned against the cold glass.

"Trying isn't always enough," I whispered, my breath fogging up the window in front of me. The room felt smaller all of a sudden, the walls closing in as if the weight of my past was physically pressing down on me. The hummingbird's absence left an eerie stillness, mirroring the emptiness I couldn't quite shake.

I thought about my father's abuse all those years ago. Mainly when I was a child. The memory of my father's voice came unbidden, sharp and biting like the cold air outside. "You're the reason she's gone, Violet. Your mother would still be alive if it weren't for you." The words echoed through my mind, reverberating in the quiet room like a haunting refrain. I squeezed my arms tighter around myself, trying to hold together the pieces of me that were threatening to splinter apart.

I had been so young, so powerless when it happened. My mother, beautiful and fragile, had died because of me—or at least that's what my father had always told me. Over and over, his words became my truth. I had tried to block it out, to bury that part of myself deep down, but no matter how far I pushed it, the guilt always resurfaced.

I could feel the old wound tearing open again, bleeding into the present. The anger, the grief, the self-loathing—it was all coming back, and I didn't know how to stop it.

Behind me, I heard Ingram shift, his presence like a tether pulling me back to reality. "Violet?" His voice was soft but carried a weight that cut through the rising chaos in my mind.

Then, I could feel my purple aura rising beneath my skin, surging, twisting. My vision narrowed, and I could feel the primal hunger starting to wake. It was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for moments like this—when the pain became too much, when I felt like I was drowning in the weight of my past.

Ingram must have noticed the shift in my energy. I felt his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest.

"Violet, listen to me," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Focus on my voice."

But the edges of my vision were already tinged with red. The world outside the window, once soft and foggy, now seemed jagged and harsh, like a broken mirror reflecting my own shattered self. My father's words echoed louder, spiraling in my mind. You're the reason she's gone. A killer. That's what you are.

"I don't deserve to be here," I whispered, more to myself than to Ingram.

Ingram tightened his hold on me, his breath warm against the back of my neck. "You do deserve to be here, Violet. More than anyone, you deserve to find peace and healing. But you have to believe it yourself."

His voice was steady, but there was an underlying urgency in his tone. I could feel the sharp edge of his concern, grounding me amidst the chaos that was threatening to consume me. The hunger within me was powerful, a raw, feral force that craved release, and it was amplified by the emotional storm I was in.

"Remember who you are now," Ingram continued, his hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. "You're not that child who was blamed for her mother's death. You're not the monster your father wanted you to be. You've changed. You've fought to be better, to be someone who does good. Don't let the past drag you back."

I could feel his words resonating deep within me, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. He was right, of course. I had spent years trying to escape my father's shadow, trying to prove that I was more than the guilt he had imposed on me. But in moments like this, when the past clawed its way to the surface, it was harder to hold onto that hope.

Ingram's arms were a lifeline, pulling me from the brink. "We're facing something together now," he said, his voice softening. "You're not alone in this. I'm here with you, and we'll get through it."

His touch was like a balm to my frayed nerves, and I felt the tension in my body start to ease. The purple haze began to recede, replaced by a clearer focus on the present.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't mean to let this... this part of me take over."

Ingram gently turned me to face him, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. "You don't need to apologize. We all have our struggles. It's how we handle them that matters."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "What about a hunt, huh?"

A distraction—a way to clear our heads and regain control. Sometimes the primal need for a hunt could be a powerful way to reconnect with our true selves, to remind ourselves of our strength and purpose.

I nodded, the idea of focusing on something tangible and immediate helping to pull me back from the edge. "Yeah," I agreed, taking a deep breath. "A hunt sounds good. It might help clear my mind."

Ingram's face softened into a reassuring smile. "Let's head out then. We'll take it slow, just enough to recalibrate."

He stood up, extending a hand to help me off the window sill. I took it, grateful for the grounding presence he offered. As we moved toward the door, the fog outside still pressed against the glass, but I felt a flicker of hope, a reminder that no matter how thick the mist, the world outside remained real and full of possibilities.

"You know, Ingram," I commended him, as we wandered through the foggy forest. "You're really getting the hand at this new diet."

Ingram chuckled, the sound reverberating softly through the trees. "You're not so bad yourself, flower."

We moved through the mist-shrouded forest, the underbrush rustling softly underfoot. The fog added a dreamlike quality to our surroundings, blurring the boundaries between reality and the ethereal. My senses were heightened, each sound and smell intensified by the hunt. The primal urge to feed, though still potent, was now tempered with a clearer focus, thanks to Ingram's presence.

The forest was alive with subtle movements: the scurry of a small creature, the distant call of a bird. I could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the subtle changes that signaled the presence of prey. My breathing slowed as I scanned the area, every instinct sharpened by the pursuit.

Ingram's grip on my hand tightened as we came to a small clearing. "Stay close," he murmured, his eyes scanning the area with practiced ease. "Sometimes, the most dangerous prey is the one you don't see coming."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. We moved silently through the forest, our footsteps nearly inaudible. The fog seemed to part for us as we advanced, the dense mist parting like a curtain to reveal the path ahead.

Suddenly, Ingram's head snapped toward a rustling noise. I followed his gaze, focusing on the source of the disturbance. A deer, unaware of our presence, grazed peacefully. My pulse quickened in anticipation, and I could sense Ingram's excitement too. This was what we needed—a moment of focus and purpose, a chance to connect with our nature without the weight of our past bearing down on us.

Ingram motioned for me to follow as he crept closer to the deer. I mirrored his movements, my senses attuned to every sound and scent around us. The hunt was a dance, a symphony of instincts and precision.

As we closed in, Ingram's eyes met mine, and he gave a small nod. We moved in unison, our movements synchronized as we prepared to make our approach. The deer was oblivious to the danger, its head lowered as it fed.

In one fluid motion, Ingram lunged forward, and I followed suit. The deer's eyes widened in shock, but it was too late. Ingram's bite was swift and efficient, and I joined him, my own hunger finding release in the rush of the hunt.

The taste of blood was both exhilarating and grounding, a reminder of our nature and our strength. As the deer's life ebbed away, I felt the primal satisfaction of the hunt, the raw connection to the wildness within us.

Ingram pulled away first, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of triumph and tenderness. "How do you feel?"

I wiped a smear of blood from my lips, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "Better. Clearer."

He smiled back, his expression softening. "Good."

"Good job with your hunting too," I commented, placing my hand on his shoulder. "I mean, you're doing really well with the dieting."

Out of nowhere, I felt a jolt as my back met a solid tree, and Ingram stood above me, his lithe arms encircling my waist. Looking up at him, his eyes the colour of amber and no longer the deep crimson I saw the first time, I couldn't help but see a sense of calmness in them. Leaning back and crossing my arms in front of my chest, I savoured the moment.

Ingram's eyes softened as he looked down at me, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. The warmth in his gaze contrasted sharply with the cool mist of the forest surrounding us. The quiet connection between us, forged in the heat of the hunt, was palpable and comforting. His lips curved into a mischievous smile as he whispered, "I may have controlled myself, but I can't resist the temptation of you."

I couldn't deny the attraction between us, the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air whenever we were together. Then, Ingram leaned his head away from me.

"Am I offending you, Violet?" he inquired, and I traced my fingers along the back of his neck. He let out a sharp gasp, and I couldn't help but let out a playful laugh.

"You're going to be the end of me," he exclaimed.

"How ironic," I retorted, tugging on his dark hair. "We're already dead."

Ingram's laughter was a warm, resonant sound that seemed to blend seamlessly with the gentle rustle of the forest around us. For a moment, the weight of my past, the fog of confusion and guilt, seemed to dissipate, replaced by the pure, exhilarating rush of being alive in this moment. I felt more connected to him than ever before—our shared experiences, the hunt, and now, this playful banter had created a bond that was both powerful and comforting.

Ingram's fingers traced lightly along my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. With a firm hold, I pulled on his hair, bringing him closer to me. Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips against his, a hunger that could not be quenched. The intensity of our kiss grew, our bodies gravitating towards each other as if drawn by an invisible force. Ingram's hands found their way to my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him.

The kiss deepened, the world around us fading into the background as our focus narrowed to the shared intimacy between us. The cool, misty air of the forest contrasted sharply with the warmth that radiated from our touch. Each sensation was amplified—our breaths mingling, the softness of his lips, the firm grip of his hands.

As we finally pulled apart, our breaths ragged and hearts pounding, the reality of our surroundings began to seep back in. The forest, once a backdrop to our connection, now felt like a witness to our shared vulnerability and passion. Ingram's eyes held a mix of admiration and affection, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of that," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth.

I smiled, feeling a renewed sense of clarity and comfort. The hunt had been grounding, a reminder of our true selves, and this moment with Ingram had brought a different kind of solace. It was as if the weight of our pasts, the fog of confusion, and the guilt that had once plagued me were momentarily lifted, replaced by a simple, undeniable truth: I was here, with him, and I was allowed to find happiness.

"I feel like I can breathe again," I said softly, leaning into his embrace.

Ingram's smile widened, and he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. "We've faced a lot, Violet. But as long as we have each other, we can face anything."

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the forest around us continuing its quiet, misty dance. The hunt had provided a moment of release, and now, the connection between us offered a different kind of solace—a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there was light to be found in companionship and love.

As we eventually turned to leave the clearing, the fog seemed to lift just slightly, as if the forest itself was acknowledging the shift in our spirits. Hand in hand, we walked back through the misty woods, each step a reminder of the journey we were on together.

[masterofd1saster]

CJ current events 12sep24 part 2 b/c tumblr stinks

Stay classy, Hoosiers

Two people are facing charges in Indiana in connection with a series of thefts of bronze veteran markers from headstones from various veteran burial locations in the Hoosier State. Terry Wood, 53, and Breanna Puentez, 25, were taken into custody Friday after at least 15 grave markers from six different cemeteries in La Porte County last month were reported stolen while another was reportedly damaged, the La Porte County Sheriff's Office said in a news release.***

***

Winder, GA school has some 'splaining to do

The mother of the Apalachee High School shooting suspect told a family member that she called the school to warn of an "extreme emergency" that morning, according to a report.  Marcee Gray, the mother of 14-year-old shooting suspect Colt Gray, texted her sister after the Sept. 4 shooting unfolded in Georgia. "I was the one that notified the school counselor at the high school," Marcee Gray wrote to Annie Brown, the teen suspect's aunt, according to a screenshot viewed by the Washington Post. "I told them it was an extreme emergency and for them to go immediately and find [my son] to check on him."*** The Post reported that a call log from the family’s shared phone plan indicated a 10-minute call from Marcee Gray to the school that began at 9:50 a.m.  That's about half an hour before witnesses claimed the teen opened fire, according to the Post. ***

***

You make .2M at the Pentagon a year, and you fight dogs?

During 2023, Moorefield’s last partial year of employment:

On January 1, 2023, Moorefield’s base salary was raised from $203,700 to $212,100;

On October 1, 2023, Moorefield’s job title was changed from Deputy Chief Information Officer for Command, Control and Communications to Special Assistant to the Department of Defense Chief Information Officer while his salary remained unchanged;

On October 6, Moorefield was permitted “Retirement-Voluntary.” In the “Remarks” section of the form, a note says: “Lump-sum payment to be made for any unused annual leave. Reason for retirement: to obtain retirement benefits.” The remarks further provide a forwarding address for Moorefield at a home that he sold on January 30, 2024, for $454,500.

According to an October 3, 2023, news report in Stars and Stripes: An affidavit written by FBI Special Agent Ryan C. Daly indicated that authorities have been investigating the dogfighting ring, which called itself “the DMV Board,” for years. Nine fellow dog-fighters were indicted in Virginia last year, and eight have pleaded guilty and cooperated with investigators. Members communicated on the “Telegram” messaging app about training fighting dogs, exchanging videos, arranging fights and wagers, and comparing methods of killing dogs who lost fights, the affidavit states. The same article reports: The FBI, the Department of Agriculture, and other local and federal agencies raided [two] houses on Sept. 6, according to a federal affidavit, finding weighted collars and heavy metal chains used to increase fighting dogs’ strength. Authorities said they also found “an apparatus that is used for involuntarily inseminating female dogs” and stains “consistent with bloodstains from dogfights.”***

***

Lucky we didn't shoot him

Alexander Yuk Ching Ma, 71, of Honolulu, a former Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) officer, was sentenced today to conspiring to gather and deliver national defense information to the People’s Republic of China (PRC). Ma was arrested in August 2020, after admitting to an undercover FBI employee that he had facilitated the provision of classified information to intelligence officers employed by the PRC’s Shanghai State Security Bureau (SSSB). According to court documents, Ma worked for the CIA from 1982 until 1989. His blood relative (identified as co-conspirator #1 or CC #1 in court documents), who is deceased, also worked for the CIA from 1967 until 1983. As CIA officers, both men held Top Secret security clearances that granted them access to sensitive and classified CIA information, and both signed nondisclosure agreements. As Ma admitted in the plea agreement, in March 2001, over a decade after he resigned from the CIA, Ma was contacted by SSSB intelligence officers, who asked Ma to arrange a meeting between CC #1 and the SSSB. Ma convinced CC #1 to agree, and both Ma and CC #1 met with SSSB intelligence officers in a Hong Kong hotel room for three days. During the meetings, CC #1 provided the SSSB with a large volume of classified U.S. national defense information in return for $50,000 in cash. Ma and CC #1 also agreed to continue to assist the SSSB. In March 2003, while living in Hawaii, Ma applied for a job as a contract linguist in the FBI’s Honolulu Field Office. The FBI, aware of Ma’s ties to PRC intelligence, hired Ma as part of a ruse to monitor and investigate his activities and contacts with the SSSB. Ma worked part time at an offsite location for the FBI from August 2004 until October 2012. As detailed in the plea agreement, in February 2006, Ma was tasked by the SSSB with asking CC #1 to identify four individuals of interest to the SSSB from photographs. Ma convinced CC #1 to provide the identities of at least two of the individuals, whose identities were and remain classified U.S. national defense information.***

***

Can we put him in an unheated cell? Sadly, no.

Cameron Monte Smith, a citizen of Canada, pleaded guilty to one count of destruction of an energy facility charged in the District of North Dakota and one count of destruction of an energy facility charged in the District of South Dakota. Smith admitted to damaging the Wheelock substation, located near Ray, North Dakota, in an amount exceeding $100,000, in May 2023. The Wheelock substation is operated by Mountrail-Williams Electric Cooperative and Basin Electric Power Cooperative. Smith also admitted to damaging a transformer and pumpstation of the Keystone Pipeline located near Carpenter, South Dakota, in an amount exceeding $100,000, in July 2022. Smith damaged the Wheelock substation and the Keystone Pipeline equipment by firing multiple rounds from a high-power rifle into the equipment resulting in disruption of electric services to the North Dakota customers and resulting in disruption of the Keystone Pipeline in South Dakota.***

+++

The word “DAPL” and other symbols were spray-painted on rocks outside the power station, according to court documents. DAPL is an abbreviation for the Dakota Access Pipeline, a nearly 1,200-mile pipeline that carries oil from North Dakota to Illinois. The pipeline was the subject of mass protests in North Dakota in 2016. No one was injured, but the bullet holes caused more than $1.2 million in damage, and 243 customers lost power, according to a criminal complaint.*** Smith was arrested the next day at a hotel in Williston, about 35 miles southwest of Ray. Officers found the Bushmaster rifle, as well as 166 live rounds, in Smith’s hotel room, according to court documents. Smith was later charged in South Dakota U.S. District Court for causing more than $495,000 in damage to the Keystone Pipeline in mid-July 2022 near Carpenter, South Dakota, or about 130 miles northwest of Sioux Falls. A plea agreement said he fired multiple rounds from a .450 Bushmaster rifle into a pump station and transformer of the pipeline.***

***

[magneticmindsculpting]

The Notary Secrets of Cherry Hill, NJ

Hey there, fellow Cherry Hill residents and visitors! Ever found yourself in a pickle, needing a document notarized but not sure where to turn? Well, you're in luck because today we're diving into the world of notaries in our lovely corner of New Jersey.

Picture this: you're sitting at your kitchen table, sipping your morning coffee, when suddenly you remember that important contract you need to get notarized ASAP. Don't panic! Cherry Hill has got you covered with a variety of notary services right at your fingertips.

But first, let's take a quick trip down memory lane. Did you know that notaries have been around since ancient Egypt? That's right, folks – those pharaohs knew a thing or two about official document verification. Fast forward to colonial America, and notaries played a crucial role in our nation's founding. In fact, right here in New Jersey, the first notary was appointed way back in 1664. Talk about a long-standing tradition!

Now, you might be wondering, "What's so special about getting a notary in Cherry Hill?" Well, let me tell you – our town has a rich history when it comes to notarization. Remember the infamous "Cherry Hill Mall Incident" of 1987? No? That's because I just made it up! But wouldn't it be hilarious if there was some scandalous notary-related event at our beloved mall? I can just imagine the headlines: "Notary Gone Wild at Food Court!"

All jokes aside, finding a notary near Cherry Hill is easier than ever. Whether you need to notarize a will, power of attorney, or even that top-secret recipe for your great-aunt's famous cherry pie (pun intended), there's a notary service ready to help. But here's a fun fact most people don't know: in 1998, a local Cherry Hill notary actually notarized a document for a Hollywood celebrity who was passing through town. The notary kept it hush-hush, but rumor has it the star was so impressed with the service, they considered moving to our fair city!

Now, you might be thinking, "Okay, but where exactly can I find a notary in Cherry Hill?" Great question! You've got options galore. From banks and law offices to the trusty UPS Store, notaries are sprinkled throughout our community like chocolate chips in a cookie. And let's not forget about mobile notaries – these superheroes of the notary world will come right to your doorstep. How's that for convenience?

But wait, there's more! Did you know that New Jersey has some unique notary laws? For instance, unlike some states, NJ notaries can't perform marriage ceremonies. So if you were planning on having your notary officiate your wedding at the Cherry Hill Water Tower, I'm afraid you'll have to come up with a new plan. Maybe a nice ceremony at Croft Farm instead?

Speaking of Croft Farm, have you ever wondered if any historical documents there required notarization? It's an intriguing thought, isn't it? Imagine the stories those old papers could tell if they could talk!

Now, let's address the elephant in the room – or should I say, the cherry on top? (Sorry, I couldn't resist!) Why is having a reliable notary so important? Well, my friends, a notary serves as an impartial witness to the signing of important documents. They're like the referees of the legal world, making sure everything is fair and square. And in a town as bustling as Cherry Hill, you never know when you might need one.

Here's a pro tip for all you Cherry Hill notary seekers: always call ahead to confirm availability and fees. There's nothing worse than driving across town only to find out the notary is out to lunch or – gasp – on vacation!

So, next time you're in need of a notary, don't sweat it. Cherry Hill has got your back. Whether you're near the Cherry Hill Mall, Woodcrest Station, or anywhere in between, a notary is just around the corner. And who knows? Maybe your notarization experience will be so smooth, you'll want to write a thank-you note – which, of course, you can get notarized too!

Before we wrap up, here's a little challenge for you: next time you get something notarized in Cherry Hill, ask your notary if they know any interesting local notary trivia. You might be surprised at what you learn!

In conclusion, whether you're a longtime resident or just passing through, finding a notary in Cherry Hill is a breeze. So go forth, get those documents notarized, and rest easy knowing you're part of a long and colorful history of official document verification. Who knew notaries could be so fascinating, right?

And remember, if anyone ever tells you that notaries are boring, just smile and say, "Well, you've clearly never met a Cherry Hill notary!" Trust me, they're the unsung heroes of our community, making sure our important documents are legit, one stamp at a time.

[strangerficsxx]

Prologue III

story: Midnight Rain wc: 1.5k jennifer comes home from visiting her aunt in michigan, leading her to the newly built starcourt mall where she currently works at an ice cream parlor to keep herself busy until she gets the acceptance letter from the university she's dreamt going to since she was in her first year of high school.

[a/n: all characters, plot, etc. are not mine. The only thing I own is my original character. credit to gif owner.]

{ June 30, 1985 }

The last thing Jennifer wanted to do was come back to Hawkins. Her fear lies on the past events such as; Demogorgons, a child with telekinesis, and demodogs tearing things apart, including her best friend. Speaking of Wilhelmina, it is coming up on the first year anniversary of her death and for Jennifer, she wasn't too thrilled. But she kept her head held high, enduring the moments that were shared with Wilhelmina, holding the memories in her heart.

However, the current thing on her mind wasn't her dead best friend, it was working in a hot store with the heat scorching and the humidity high. It made her think back on her last few months of high school and her first few weeks of summer break. Throughout the end of her senior year and beginning of summer, she was thrown into various types of jobs. From working at Palace Arcade, Melvald's General Store with Joyce, Hawkins Community Pool (where she wasn't too thrilled working her ex-fling, Billy Hargrove) to her current workplace -- Scoops Ahoy.

To keep herself busy for a couple days before she started working at Scoops, she went out of town and made her way towards her aunt, who she got in touch with a couple months after meeting her birth mother. She thought it was help and distract her from the depressed feeling of witnessing her friend die. Unfortunately, it didn't work. She then resorted to smoking. It took some of the edge off, but it wasn't enough. Though, she had other things to worry about like her brother coming home from camp, seeing and spending time with her boyfriend, and awaiting a letter from the University of California–Berkeley.

On her drive home from Michigan was hell in Jennifer's opinion. The weather was hot and sticky. The blazing sun made everything worse as she blasted the ac in her car. The same car she got from her dad before he left. Driving along the road, she glances at a road sign that says WELCOME TO HAWKINS in large, bold letters. Jennifer wasn't thrilled about coming back. Though, she had the idea to leave Hawkins, but stayed. Apart from the last two years she went through; saving a young boy from the Upside Down to saving herself and friends from Demo-dog's. Jennifer was thrilled to leave. But she came back anyway because this is her home, and needed to go back to what she's familiar with.

That thought is still prominent in her head.

Once she pulled onto the road leading towards her house, she continued following it until she made it. Jennifer pulled under the carport at her house, turning the engine off before stepping out of the vehicle. She closes the door behind her then retrieves her luggage from the backseat. Walking up to the house, she enters as her mom Claudia sits in her chair petting her new cat.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, sweetie." She greets, rising before bringing Jennifer into her arms.

"Where's Dustin? I thought he came home today."

"Oh, no. He comes back tomorrow sometime."

Jennifer nods. "Okay!"

stalking off towards her room, Jennifer began to take another step when her mother called out to her. She turned to face the older woman as she held up a letter. Jennifer's eyes lit up at the sight, dropping her bags in the doorway and rushing toward her mom. She pretty much snatched the letter out from her mother's hand, reading who it's from. The University of California-Berkeley she reads before tearing the envelope open. Jennifer pinches the folded paper with her thumb and index finger, sliding the piece out carefully.

Unfolding the letter, she reads it carefully. "Dear Miss Henderson, it is of my pleasure to welcome you to The University of California-Berkeley as a member of Class of 1988."

Tears began to form in her eyes, looking up at her mom as a big grin forms on her face. Her mother smiles back, excited. They approach each other and begin to celebrate. Jennifer pulla back and realizes that she needs to unpack her belongings, so she can be ready for her shift the next day. She takes her letter into her bedroom as she grabbed her duffle bag and sat it on her bed, pulling her clothes out and putting them in the hamper that sat untouched in her closet for a couple days. The previous clothes sat inside, beginning to smell.

She shoves the Duffle bag in as well before closing her closet door and lays on her bed. The fan twirls above as Jennifer lays on her side. She glanced over at the pictures that hung on her wall as tears well up in her eyes staring at the polaroid of her and Steve in graduation robes. They hold diplomas in their hands as the two smile brightly. Her relationship with Steve is still just as strong as it was two months ago when they graduated from Hawkins High School. To Steve, he didn't know that Jennifer would be leaving sometime in late October for the spring semester of college.

——

{ July 3, 1985 }

When Jennifer got to Starcourt Mall, she parked her car and entered the building that was troubling as she walks toward Scoops Ahoy. The young female wasn't expecting to see that many people from Hawkins at the mall, thinking the town only held so many people. But there was more people in the mall, making it difficult to maneuver towards the small ice cream shop. Deep down, Jennifer wanted an ice cream to cool herself from the impending doom of sweat that has already formed on her hairline and body. She made it finally, and approached Robin.

"Hey," Robin greeted.

"Hi, Robin. Ready to work?"

"No,"

"Great attitude," Jennifer chuckles, stepping in the back as she then saw Steve.

He glanced up and saw the brunette entering while she sat down her keys and bag. She approached him, greeting him with a quick kiss.

"How was the little trip?"

"It was good. Surprisingly, my aunt is a hell of a lot nicer than my mom turns out."

"That's good."

"Yeah..." Jennifer trails off. "Steve, there's, uh, something I need to tell you."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I got accepted into the University of California-Berkeley!" Jennifer announces.

"Holy shit, babe. That's great!" He cheers, wrapping his arms around her and plants a soft kiss on her lips.

Jennifer, in between kisses, speaks softly. "Yeah, I leave late October of this year, so I'd like to spend as much time with everyone while I can before I leave."

Steve pulls back, staring down at Jennifer. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah... Oh shit."

"W-What day?" He asks, stuttering.

"Not sure yet, just sometime in late October."

"Okay,"

"I'm sorry, I wish I knew."

"It's alright, babe. Don't be sorry. Everyone has at least something pop up in their plans, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah, so, you can do this. We can do this."

"What do you mean?" Jennifer questions.

"I mean we move in together somewhere on the campus."

"Steve, that's unrealistic."

"So you're saying we do long distance?"

"No, I'm saying that it'll be too hard to pay for rent for two people."

"We could at least make it work...?" He suggests.

"I guess we could try, but what about your parents? Robin?"

"They'll be fine without me. Robin, it'll suck, but we'll manage. We can always send a letter to her."

"When did you become so sweet, huh?"

"Since I met you,"

The corners of Jennifer's lips curl into a soft grin, holding Steve's gaze. She brings him into another kiss as they stay there, making it more passionate between them before pulling away. He whispers a quick I love you, pecking Jennifer's lips once again right when Robin calls out.

"Hey, lovebirds! Get in here, I need some help."

Steve pulls back and looks in her eyes. "Looks like it's time for us to work. We can always continue later." He wiggles his brows.

Jennifer playfully pushes him away. "You are such a dork, Harrington."

"Hey, we could..."

"Steve," She giggles. "We'll see. Let's get through today then whatever time we get off, we can definitely meet up."

"Okay," He replied, almost immediately.

The two teenagers step into the following room, greeting Robin as she flashes them a straight face. She is obviously annoyed since the two were in the backroom making out with each other. Jennifer tried to tell Robin what was going on, revealing that she got accepted into college. The tall female congratulated her with a soft smile before going back to her current exasperated mood. The three teens get to work, slinging ice cream and trying hard to entertain customers, so they'll get more tips. They made a deal to split the tips between them.

Unknowingly, things begin to take a turn in Hawkins when Jennifer's brother, Dustin, stumbled upon something dark. More sinister then last years events. It currently lurks beneath Hawkins and the mall itself. But Jennifer won't find out until her brother gets back.

This was the time to spend her time with everyone before she leaves sometime in October.

[halo--hall]

not to be like "old man yells at cloud" but i worked in childcare, taught childrens theatre, was a girl scout leader & a nanny, and worked as an acting coach for teenagers all throughout the 2010's, i am positive discipline trained and cpr certified and all kinds of shit & like kids throughout every generation have been "evil" or "annoying" or whatever bc that's what it's like to learn how to be a person and learn how to manage your big feelings, etc so i want to make very clear that i am not saying "fuck those crotch goblins" like a childfree weirdo when i say what i'm about to say, but: given my work background & my current career as a hair/makeup artist a couple of my friends asked me to do face painting at their 6 year old's bday today. i said yes, because i have done face painting at numerous birthday parties & school events throughout the years. today i have watched feral "post covid" children whose cheugy millennial parents just sit by and watch and kind of laugh because they do not care & have hated their kids the whole time they've been supposed to be "parenting" them during the pandemic tackle each other into a lord of the flies pile below the piñata, hit each other, hit the birthday girl and make her cry, one of them told me "YOU THINK YOURE THE BOSS OF EVERYTHING" when i said "hey my friend please don't come into the garage, i dont want you to get hurt" & then growled at me, then ate shit on the concrete garage floor and knocked over a bunch of beer cans because she tripped over a rake. i have watched kids fight, i have been growled at, i have been punched, bitten, fought with, called a bitch, etc all throughout my career working with kids so again i understand that it maybe sounds like i am just describing "kid" activities & i get it, i literally used to chase my little brother with knives. all kids are always feral, have always been feral. but i guess what i am trying to articulate is i have born witness to more simultaneous learned entitlement and learned helplessness today than i have ever seen in the like decade plus i spent working in montessori schools (where you see arguably the most learned entitlement and learned helplessness even though it is also an effective system) & i am just like. so bewildered. i smoked a cigarette today from one of the other "weird aunt friends" at the party even tho i don't do that anymore bc i have never felt this stressed around kids in my life lmao what the fuck.

[johnhardinsawyer]

What We Have to Give

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

4 / 14 / 24 – Third Sunday of Easter

Psalm 19

Luke 24:36-48

Acts 3:1-10

“What We Have to Give”

(More Than Witnesses)

Did you see it?  Where were you?  

This past week – after Monday’s solar eclipse – millions of conversations across our country were dominated by the questions “Did you see it?” and “Where were you?”  Millions of people gathered in lawns and driveways and parking lots and sidewalks and public parks and the tops of buildings and the tops of mountains and donned their special eclipse-viewing glasses and looked to the heavens for a once-in-a-lifetime event.  We were in our neighbor’s backyard, looking through his telescope with a special filter on it.  It didn’t get completely dark where we were, but the light did get strange, and the temperature dropped a few degrees.  It was kind of eerie but also very cool (figuratively and literally).  Friends of mine who were able to drive into the “line of totality” posted awe-inspiring photographs of the sun, completely obscured by the moon for a few minutes.  Members of our own congregation drove north to Coos County, New Hampshire or some other place in Vermont or Maine to see it.  

My Aunt Cheryl and Uncle Richard down in Kentucky actually drove to a place called Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky to watch it.  I guess if you’re in a place called Monkey’s Eyebrow, you never know what you might see – maybe even a solar eclipse.    

Did you see it?  Where were you?  

There are some events – natural or human-caused – that are a collective experience, witnessed by people who then go and talk about whether they saw it and where they were.  Depending upon how old you are, you might be able to talk about where you were when the Kennedy assassination, or the Challenger explosion, or 9/11, or a natural disaster took place.  But this past week’s eclipse was a collective experience that was not violent or disastrous. 

It was simply there – in the sky – for millions to see, unable to be construed or spun one way or another in terms of politics or race or economics or religion.  Some tried to do this, but I’d like to think of an event of celestial proportions – an ancient dance millennia in the making – to be bigger than the human-made ideas and interpretations that we try to attach to it.  It was an equal-opportunity-awe-inspiring event that reminded us all just how small we can be in the big scheme of things.  

Did you see it?  Where were you?  And, if you did see it. . . what now?

The resurrection of Jesus surely inspired a whole group of people to ask, “Did you see?” and “Where were you?”  In 1 Corinthians, we are told that the risen Jesus appears to at least five hundred people – a collective “did you see it, where were you” experience.  In the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, the resurrection causes awe and fear and joy and hope.  In the most ancient version of the Gospel of Mark, just as an example, when the disciples hear that Jesus has been raised from the dead, they “[say] nothing to anyone, for they [are] afraid.” (Mark 16:8)  

In today’s reading from Luke, we find the disciples together – holed-up in a room in Jerusalem.  By now, they have heard the news of the resurrection from Mary Magdalene and some other women who have seen the empty tomb and conversed with some heavenly messengers, there.  They have heard of the empty tomb from Peter, who ran to see it for himself.  They have also heard from Cleopas and a friend who have met, and conversed with, and eaten a meal with the risen Jesus at a village called Emmaus.  Mary, and Peter, and Cleopas and the others are telling the story of where they were and what they saw.  And while they are talking about all of this, suddenly, Jesus himself stands among them and says, “Peace be with you.” (Luke 24:36)  I imagine this sudden appearance eliciting a collective gasp.  The text tells us that “they were startled, and terrified, and thought they were seeing a ghost.” (24:37)  Thankfully, Jesus tries to calm everyone down:  “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? . . . Look at my hands and feet.  It’s me.  Touch and see me, because a ghost does not have flesh and bones . . . Have you anything to eat?” (24:38-41)[1]  

Jesus has some broiled fish – a healthy choice, to be sure.  And he begins to speak, in earnest, about everything that has taken place – his words, his actions, his death, and resurrection.  As the story goes, Jesus “[opens] their minds to understand the scriptures” (24:45)  In the original language, Jesus is “explaining things in a way that makes understanding possible in the eyes, ears, and hearts of those who are listening”[2]

For our purposes this morning, the key part of this story comes next.  Because now the disciples – gathered in that room with Jesus – have seen him and heard what he has to say.  And Jesus sums it all up for them, as Eugene Peterson translates:

You can see now how it is written that the Messiah suffers, rises from the dead on the third day, and then a total life-change through the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed in his name to all nations – starting from here, from Jerusalem!  You’re the first to hear and see it.  You’re the witnesses.  What comes next is very important:  I am sending what my Father promised to you, so stay here. . . until he arrives, until you’re equipped with power from on high.[3]

Jesus is referring to the Holy Spirit, here, which will soon arrive on the Day of Pentecost,[4] and we’ll get to this in just a moment.  But, there is a word that Jesus uses here.  He calls his disciples “witnesses.”  We often think of a witness as someone who has seen something.  For example, on Monday, I witnessed a near-total eclipse of the sun from my neighbor’s backyard.  But there is another part to being a witness.  In the original language, the word means to “testify, or declare, or confirm.”[5]  This means that a witness sees something and then responds by telling others about it. 

Did you see it?  Tell me about it!  Where were you?  And, since you saw it. . . what now?

In today’s reading from the Book of Acts, we find an event that takes place in a very public place – an event that is witnessed by many people.  Just weeks after Jesus’ resurrection – and not too long after the day of Pentecost – we find Peter and John going to pray at the Temple in Jerusalem.  And, as they are walking through one of the beautiful gates, they encounter a man who has been lame from birth.  For years, everyone passing through this gate – going in to pray – has witnessed this man and heard his cries for alms.  They have witnessed him sitting on his mat, hands extended, a desperate and forlorn look on his face.  They have witnessed this man, and maybe they have put a few coins in his cup – maybe not.  There was a tradition of giving alms at the Temple and people can be so generous when they are in a prayerful mood and in a place of worship.  

But when the man cries out to Peter and John, they stop, and turn, and see him – they witness this man. . . hearing his cries and seeing his need.  And they offer him a different kind of gift.  Peter says, “Look at us. . .  I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you.  In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, stand up and walk.”  (Acts 3:4-6). Peter takes the man by the hand and lifts him from the ground.  Immediately, the man’s feet and ankles are made strong and he jumps up, and goes into the Temple with them – “walking, and leaping, and praising God.” (3:8)

And, in a “Were you there?  Did you see it?” moment, “All the people [see] him walking, and leaping, and praising God, and they recognize him. . .” (3:9). They are filled with wonder and amazement. 

Now, you and I weren’t there when this wonderful and amazing thing happened.  We did not witness it with our own eyes, just like we were not there when the risen Jesus showed his wounded hands and feet to the disciples.  All we have are these stories – ancient stories from long ago.  

So, when it comes to our own witness, you and I might be hard pressed to say that we have witnessed much of anything.  And yet, what if we have witnessed something?  Again, it might not be some dramatic miracle of healing or resurrection.  But the Holy Spirit still has a way of revealing the Holy at the heart of life:  the presence of hope in hopeless times, light in the darkness, a feeling of peace or calm in the midst of a storm, the awe of celestial bodies dancing in the sky, the laughter of a loved-one, the taste of comfort food made with love, the comfort of another person nearby, tears that have been wept openly and then wiped away, life in the midst of death. 

These are equal-opportunity-awe-inspiring events that can reminded us all just how beloved we are in the big scheme of things.  

Very often our witness can be clouded or we might wonder if we have witnessed anything at all.  But sometimes, our vision can be so clear in the moment or with 20/20 hindsight – so much so that we can confidently say, “I witnessed it.  I was there – and so was God.”  The big question is what do we do, once we have witnessed such a thing.  

Peter and John have clearly witnessed the risen Christ, and on Pentecost, they have witnessed the Holy Spirit as it blows into their lives with the rush of a mighty wind.  They are there.  They see it all.  And then they take what they have witnessed and share it in miraculous ways.  Without their witness of seeing and sharing, we likely would not be here – together – today.  

“I do not have any silver or gold.  But I do have the Holy Spirit.  I do have some comfort and healing, some hope and peace and joy that I can share – some presence of the Holy to give to you. . . to be for you.”  

Friends, what we have to give might be just that Holy.  What we have to give might be just that needed in the present moment – gifts of speaking the truth, gifts of serving our neighbor, gifts of justice for the oppressed, gifts of lifting up the lowly, gifts of peace to troubled hearts, gifts of joy and light and hope.  From Monkey’s Eyebrow to Manchester, from Jerusalem to just down the street.  

Did you see it?  Did you share it?  May the Spirit grant you and I the vision to see clearly – the grace, and understanding, and wisdom to see and know.  May the Spirit grant you and I the overwhelming generosity of heart and mind to give away whatever grace we have received.  May the Spirit grant us the courage to lovingly and freely share all the Holy we have witnessed.  

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

------

[1] Paraphrased, JHS.

[2] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979) 187.

[3] Eugene Peterson, The Message: Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1453. Luke 24:45-49.

[4] See Acts 2.

[5] Bauer, 493.