#grief has made a home in his heart and lives there like a tumor but hed rather rip out his own heart than let anyone cure him of the cancer

[mossterunderthebed]

[oboevallis]

runaway

hey it’s been a hot minute, not really sure what this is ive have it in my drafts for a while, but i feel like everyone’s written this 😂 but i wanted to post something at least also ‘who is he?’ part 4 will be coming out soon hope everyone’s doing well

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?” Amelia’s voice wavered as she struggled to keep her composure.

“I didn’t sleep with her!” Link exclaimed, slurring his words. “I just stayed with her.”

“Whenever something goes wrong between us you always go running to Jo. Just get it over with and fuck her already! She’ll be all the things I’m not.”

“You have no right to be mad. I poured my heart out to you, I’ve been planning for months on proposing to you. I love you Amelia Shepherd, but your so damn self destructive you’re ruining this for the both of us. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted this is just one thing I wanted. If anything I should be mad, but I’m being the bigger person.”

“You’re being the bigger person?” Amelia chuckled in disbelief. “Talk to me again when you’re sober.”

“Who said I wasn’t sober?”

“Please, part of Jo’s help sessions always result in the two of you downing a bottle of whiskey, which is an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism.” As she said this she was aggressively packing her clothes in a suitcase.

“Not everyone’s a fucking alcoholic. Not everyone has to sit an a room with fucked up strangers complaining about their lives, when they did that to themselves.”

“You think I wanted to be snorting oxy off of the reception desk of a medical practice while I’ll my friends watched? Or stealing my brothers car and crashing it trying to find drugs? I thought you were different but you’re just like Owen.” That’s the last thing she said before walking into their sons nursery and scooping with up.

“You can’t take Scout.”

“I can because you’re drunk out of your mind, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Amelia yelled before slamming the door behind her. She fought to get the baby in his car seat, she couldn’t seem to catch a break. She needed to get away, she needed to go back to her original refuge.

“Come on Scout, can we cooperate for mommy?” Amelia begged, fighting off tears as her son kicked and screamed. Despite being a movement baby he hated the car, specifically the car seat since no one could hold him. Eventually the baby was secured, and he quickly fell asleep, as he realized how he exhausted himself after his tantrum. Three hours into the drive Amelia immediately started to regret this, it was a 17 hour drive, and she was doing it alone with a baby who just barely turned one. No, she was doing this, she needed to. She’d be sure to take as many breaks as she needed. This was what needed to be done for her and her sons well-being.

After two hotel visits and countless stops along I-5 S she found herself in LA standing outside her sisters door, but couldn’t bring herself to knock. She knew Addison loved her but she couldn’t help already feeling the subtle condescension. ‘How have you already managed to screw this up?’ ‘I love you Amy, I do, but isn’t this a little extreme?’ ‘You’re clean, right? Because I’ll take you back right this minute’

Quickly she turned around to go back to her car to think about her next game plan before a voice stopped her.

“Amy?” Amelia jerked back around to be met with Addison’s confused yet comforting smile.

“Umm I’m vaccinated, but I got tested if that makes you more comfortable. I’m negative I-I just needed to get put of Seattle.”

“I know the feeling.” The older woman chuckled holding the door open wider to allow the two to come in. “Now let me hold my new nephew!” She squealed as she held her arms out for the baby, soaking in his tiny stature. “I miss when Henry was this little.”

“Where is the little guy? It’s awfully quiet.”

“They went camping, Henry’s been stir crazy for over a year and it seemed safe enough for the two to go away.”

“I’m sure Jake was thrilled.” Amelia smirked thinking back to the time the practice went on a camping trip together and Jake had almost refused to go hence his disdain for the wilderness.

“You know it.” Addison joked along, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers. The older woman then lead the way back onto the deck and settled on a lounge chair under an umbrella. Amelia followed behind and took out sunscreen from the diaper bag she was sure to pick up once they got to LA. “He’s absolutely adorable Amelia.”

“Thanks.” Amelia smiled as she lathered the baby’s extremities with sunscreen.

“Gosh i just want to eat him up.” Addison pretended to bite into him, causing the baby to shriek with laughter. Cracking the first genuine smile the neurosurgeon had since after Maggie’s wedding. “You know I was talking to Charlotte a little while ago and she mentioned she was going to go to a meeting if you want to go meet up with her, she still goes to the one near the pier.”

“Thank you, Addison.” It now felt silly to have been scared to talk to Addison, she always knew how to help the neurosurgeon. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch him?”

“More than okay.” Addison beamed, running her hand through the baby’s hair. “And even if you stayed I still wouldn’t let this little guy go.”

“I love you Addie.”

“Love you too Amy.” Addison assured as the woman walked out to her car, it’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t worried for her little sister. But she was reaching out for help, she wasn’t sure what the issue was but she was immensely proud she came to her and not a baggie of pills.

_______________________________________

“Don’t you think you should call her?” Jo asked as she prepared a bottle for Luna.

“No.” Link coldly said, cradling the baby in his arms.

“At least for Scout’s sake?”

“He’s fine, looking back Amelias made it very clear she’s the only parent that matters or gets a say.” Link bitterly replied.

“I’m sure it isn’t like that.” As much as she loved her dear friend, he couldn’t see where he also went wrong in this situation. “She loves you.”

“Not enough to marry me.”

“She isn’t ready.”

“Her and Hunt were off and on, and she accepted his proposal.”

“First off she had a brain tumor, and because of said brain tumor she impulsively asked him to marry her. She thinks clearly now, and I think she just wants it to work out and be right.” Jo turned around and sighed as she saw her friends annoyed look. “You’ve never been a marriage guy, where is this even coming from?”

“I don’t know it just feels right, i don’t want to lose her.”

“Your gonna lose her if you push her into this.”

“I move mountains for her, I’ve adjusted my whole life for her. It’s just one thing, one thing that I want.”

“Link are you stupid? This isn’t fighting over what couch you get this determines the rest of your life. And marriage isn’t all that, it doesn’t keep a person there.” Jo sighed, since adopting Luna she’d been thinking a lot about her ex husband, and how stupid the concept of marriage was.

________________________________________

“Has he called?” Addison cautiously asked as Amelia fed her baby.

“Nope.” Amelia popped the ‘p’. “I get that he hates me now, but I thought he’d at least check in on Scout.”

“He’s just upset.”

“I know, I just thought he understood. He’s nothing like Owen but since we moved into his apartment I just feel suffocated like I did when we were married.”

“Have you tried talking to someone, professionally?” Addison inquired, leaning further back onto the beach chair.

“What so they can silently judge how I have a perfect life but still feel terrible?”

“Amy, you know a therapist isn’t going to think that, their there to help you without judgement.” She stared at the woman for awhile until she came to a realization. “After Scout was born you didn’t have any postpartum appointments did you?”

“No, the world had shut down a week after he was born.” Amelia confirmed.

“Do you think your having a delayed postpartum depression reaction? I mean you were thrown into taking care of a newborn and three other kids who aren’t yours in complete isolation . Then On top of that you didn’t have time to grieve Christopher. It’s difficult on women who have lost a child previously when they bring home a healthy baby.” Amelia held back her tears, as much as she tried to focus on scout she couldn’t help but feel broken over the fact Christopher didn’t have the opportunities scout has.

“Pre-covid a day wouldn’t go by that I didn’t think of Christopher. Then I just got so caught up in everything, and I’d barely think about him. I mean I almost forgot his birthday.”

“You can’t feel guilty about that.”

“I j-just wish Link would get that I don’t want another baby.I mean he’s ten times more understanding than Owen was about my grief but, I just don’t want another baby.”

“You’re allowed to not want another baby, but do you think it has to do with Christopher?”

“I don’t think so, I just can’t love yet another person without losing myself. It feels like I already have, I don’t recognize anything about me. Surgery doesn’t even give me the thrill it use to.” The older women sat up and placed a reassuring hand on the younger ones knee.

“I’m gonna talk to Violet and have her refer someone to you. Then you’re gonna talk to Link and come up with a game plan. And I’m gonna be right here the whole time, you’re my family. Everyone here is your family we’ve got you.”

[cheershalo]

By request, here are some of my favorite angsty fics in order longest to shortest. Some of these are angstier than others but I wanted to give a good range!

*note: make sure to read the tags because some of these deal with heavier topics! take care of yourself!

*also: most of these are b!L because that’s what i like to read! smut or no-smut is marked as well as the basic tags!

Remember to leave kudos and comment on all these lovely fics if you decide to read!!

💔 pray for some sweet simplicity by @eeveelou​ | E | 237k | abo | b!L - (motorcycles, racer louis, journalist harry, slow burn, a classic)

An AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.

💔 Collision by @tequiladimples​ | E | 225k | b!L - (mythology/fantasy, fairy louis, dark harry, enemies to lovers, slow burn, love love love)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

💔 And I Wait for Paradise by You_Just_Mightx3 | NR | 209k | abo | b!L - (addiction, ptsd, pining, best friends to lovers, eventual mpreg, so heartbreaking and heart-wrenchingly beautiful)

The one where it’s not the Harry who touched Louis’ heart that comes home, but an addict thought to be hopeless. A paradise above addiction when Louis wins so does Harry.

💔 Don’t Let It (Me) Break by @falsegoodnight​ | E | 169k | b!L - (exes to lovers, slow burn, grief, panic attacks, healing/therapy, sad louis, def read tags, a fav of all time)

The one where Harry is oblivious, Louis is broken, Zayn and Liam are in love, Gemma and Lottie are lovely, and Niall is just waiting for everyone to get their shit together.

Oh, and it's all Malcolm's fault.

💔 Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere​ | E | 125k | abo | b!L - (touch depri, businessman louis, hurt/comfort, a fav)

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

💔 The Dead of July by whimsicule | M | 117k | b!L - (avengers au, captain america harry, louis as bucky, ptsd, so fucking good)

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

💔 Untangle Me by suicxne | E | 103k | np smut - (canon compliant, friends to lovers, first kiss, cute <3)

The one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.

💔 nothing worsens, nothing grows by @soldouthaz​ | E | 103k | b!L - (roadtrip au, college au, enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, ot5, a fav of all time)

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

💔 Here in the Afterglow by @harrybridgers​ | NR | 89k | b!L - (high school au, historical, 70s au, small town, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers, soft soft soft)

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

💔 And down the long and silent street by whimsicule | M | 86k | b!L - (historical au, regency au, poverty, wealth difference, hurt/comfort, a masterpiece <3)

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

💔 Consequences by @allwaswell16​ | E | 79k | b!L - (amnesia au, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, secrets, amazing amazing)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

💔 We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) by @harrybridgers​ | NR | 74k | b!L - (enemies to lovers, sort of exes to lovers, demons, demon hunters, INCREDIBLE)

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

💔 Latibule by @quelquesetoiles​ | E | 54k | b!L - (spirited away au - ish, mythology, fantasy, god harry, human louis, sad louis, jealousy, amazing)

A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.

💔 7 Up by @cherrystreet​ | E | 52k | b!L - (friends to lovers, growing up together, will make you cry like a baby, a classic)

Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need��� by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.

💔 Strangers in Love by @darlou | E | 42k | b!L - (amnesia au, car accidents, light d/s, growing up together, enemies to lovers, a fav)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

💔 Ever Fixed by @eeveelou​ | E | 42k | b!L - (strangers to lovers, divorce, depression, child death, the plot twist GOT ME SO GOOD - i read this yesterday with ris and h o l y s h i t)

Three years ago, Harry was happily married, successfully heading the largest technology company in the world, and raising his young daughter. After he loses nearly everything in the aftermath of his daughter’s lost battle with a rare brain tumor, it may take three strange and yet very familiar visitors – and a man from the therapy group Harry keeps refusing to go to – to get him back on track.

💔 before we knew by @falsegoodnight​ | E | 40k | b!L - (soulmate au, lawyer harry, editor louis, stubborn harry, pining louis, literally one of the best fics ever written) 

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

💔 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting | M | 31k | abo | b!L - (THE accidental bonding fic, mentions of mpreg, have reread many times and it still hurts so good)

Harry wasn’t wrong about that, not in a general sense. Lots of omegas did seek out rich alphas and betas, hoping or planning to go into heat at the right time. Plenty of omegas saw this as their duty, especially if their families weren’t well off. Worse, Louis couldn’t honestly say he’d never thought about it.

If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now.

As it is…Louis feels like shit.

💔 autumn leaves by @suspendrs​ | NR | 28k | b!L - (war au, soldier harry, waiter louis, french louis, friends to lovers, so so good)

Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

💔 Cherry by littlebluetui | M | 25k | b!L - (exes to lovers, famous harry, non-famous louis, comfort sex, light d/s, really good & really underrated!)

Harry and Louis were soulmates, no one doubted that.

Sometimes one soulmates leaves the other to go on a world tour though.

Sometimes not having them at all is better than only a little.

💔 like a bastard on the burning sea by vashtaneradas | NR | 22k | implied b!L - (cheating/infidelity - i don’t read cheating fics as a principle but this one just... hurts so good, haven’t reread and i don’t think i ever will but i think about it often)

Harry breaks Louis, Louis breaks everything.

💔 all this delusion in our heads by buttfucklarry | E | 15k | b!L - (exes to lovers, sad louis, sad harry, mentions of mpreg, another underrated beaut <3) 

After Harry and Louis break up, they cope with it in very different ways. What will happen when Harry keeps calling his ex over when things go wrong in his life, but Louis just can't take it anymore?

💔 a grocery list pinned in blue by dangerbears | NR | 20k | b!L - (exes to lovers, divorce, a masterpiece truly)

After eight years, Louis finally has everything he's wanted. Except for Harry.

💔 Cupid’s Chokehold by bluelemur | E | 35k | b!L - (soulmate au, cupid louis, human harry, virgin louis, feel good but also a bit angsty) 

Louis is a Cupid who tries to match up Niall and Harry. It doesn't work out as planned.

💔 Love is like this; not a heartbeat, but a moan by @loveletterharry​​ | E | 13k | abo | b!L - (enemies to lovers, ex-childhood best friends, pining harry, beach house, lovely)

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

Remember again to leave kudos and comment on all these lovely masterpieces! And feel free to let me know if I made any errors!

Request another category here. 

[lonestarpost]

Episode Review - 2100 Degrees

by @lonestarbabe

9-1-1 Lone Star’s second episode of its second season, 2100°,  presents viewers an unfathomable disaster. A highly-promoed volcanic incident gives the original 9-1-1 a serious competitor in its bid for the most outlandish emergency scenario to ever be imagined. Funnily enough, the outrageousness allows the show to combine offbeat humor and character development that culminate in utter heartbreak. While the insane 9-1-1 calls may be the flashy attention-grabbers of the show, it is the character dynamics that make the show most compelling and allow the audience to suspend their disbelief and become invested in the lives of the characters. Thus, the episodes that align their attention around the characters’ lives rather than the emergencies are the most endearing. 2100° puts the characters front and center and allows the emergencies to reflect the concerns and insecurities of the characters, and it wonderfully shows the forged togetherness of the 126 and everyone in their periphery.

The episode begins with a pool party that inherently feels more dangerous in a COVID-19 world, even before the party turns into a flesh-melting horror show commences. The pool becomes the first volcanic hot spot viewers see, and the irresponsible partygoers start to live out their worst volcanic nightmares. The next scene cuts to eight hours before the party. The 126 is having a party of their own to celebrate Owen being in remission from his cancer. The event is made comical with a tumor cake that T.K. had gotten made to look like scans of Owen’s tumor. It’s no doubt an ugly cake, inscribed with the words “Tumor Slayer,” but the gesture shows how the 126 has built a family and how they have become even closer since we saw them meet way back in season 1. Cheesy tumor jokes are shared in jubilance, but there’s undeniable darkness that still looms. Owen sets the tone of the episode when he says, “I am both repulsed and moved.”

Hints of what is to come in future episodes are shown through casual moments. Carlos not-so-artfully dodges T.K.’s inquiry about meeting Carlos’ parents, Tommy sits alone and shows the insecurities she has about coming back to the job, and Owen broods rather than enjoying the party. Gwyneth tries to get Owen to not bottle things up (referring likely to their past relationship issues). Things are looking up, but there’s still a sense of unease that follows viewers into the next scene, which features a young family. They’re having a fun day at Paradise Family Fun Center. The dad seems to be in good spirits as he plays mini-golf, but his wife mentions that he is tense. Just like Owen, he is bottling his feelings up. He’s set over the edge when he misses the shot for mini golf, and it’s revealed that the family is “officially broke.” As the husband boils over, his wife is understanding. You can see the tension drop from the husband’s shoulder, but before the moment can get too comfortable, in true Lone Star fashion, the man falls into a steamy pit. This scene furthers the sense of urgency that suggests the 126 shouldn’t get too comfortable— the world is too unpredictable for comfort.

The 126 rescues the man with Marjan diving into action without waiting a beat, and while tending to the family, Tim makes a dangerous promise to a child that “Nobody is going to die today.” The minute the words are out of his mouth, it’s clear he’s said the wrong thing. Tommy scolds him about it, telling him that he wanted to make himself feel better by reassuring the child, but just scenes later, she makes similar promises to her eight-year-old twins. She feels guilty, knowing it’s never good to make promises that she can’t guarantee. She’s self-aware of her actions, and the guilt begins to spike. She is doubting her role as a leader, and she wonders if she can balance her work and family life, which is a reoccurring theme for the new character. Gina Torres excellently shows the conflict the character faces in a way that feels subtle but poignant.

Grace gets one of her few moments in the episode when a young woman named Lily is stuck in a comedically named food truck called Guac and Roll that sells vegan Tex-Mex. She is surrounded by both scorpions and lava. Yikes! Grace thinks quickly, and she’s an expert at keeping a reassuring voice as she goes through options until she finds one that works. Grace sounds so in control that it would be easy to lose track of how smartly she manages emergencies. Grace helps Lily create a dressing concoction to get the scorpions to scramble until Carlos comes and escorts Lily out.  Seeing Carlos, however briefly, always makes a scene better, and he and Grace make a pretty great team.

Back at the pool, nice girl, Elise, has badly burned herself by trying to save a jerk, who had mocked Elise for her looks, saying that she is a “Waco four.” A nicer young man, who pines for Elise, is hit by volcanic debris, which draws the attention of Tommy and Nancy. Elise and the young man are taken to safety, but the chaos only increases for the 126. Tim tends to a young man, Spence, and despite Spence’s pleading for reassurance, Tim refuses to promise that Spence will be okay, learning from his past mistakes. Unfortunately, it is at this time his words come back to haunt him. The words “Nobody’s dying today,” feel especially ominous as the volcanic debris strikes Tim and kills him right there and then. The show doesn’t take the time to even try to save him, which makes his death blink and you miss it. The speed of the tragedy shows how quickly life can take a turn for the worse, and it adds to the helpless feelings the 126 collectively has in the following scenes because they were powerless to save Tim, but they still regret that they hadn’t found a way to save him.

The final quarter of the show is fittingly dedicated to the initial grief that the team is feeling. They are despondent, and Nancy especially expresses guilt over leaving Tim. They had no choice but to leave him, and Judd’s words, “There was nothing left to work on, Nancy,” feel like a big, volcanic boulder through the viewers’ hearts. The small gestures between the 126 show the skill of the actors and the closeness of the team.  Marjan grounds T.K. with a hand on his shoulder. Judd passes Marjan a pillow after clutching it himself (just as he did when he clutched the pillow in therapy back in episode 2). Judd, incredibly familiar with the pain of losing members of his team, is a voice of reassurance and strength in the ending scenes, and this shows how much he has grown. He tells Tommy that she has added to her family, which reiterates the idea that while they have all lost so much, the 126 is still family. Prompted by Judd’s words, Tommy apologizes to Nancy for her loss, and then changes her words to say, “our loss.” You can feel in this moment, as she comforts Nancy, that Tommy is becoming more integrated into the group whereas before these episodes she only really knew Judd and Grace.

The final moments show how each of the 126 and their family members are coping with the loss. The song Hallelujah makes the scene even more heartbreaking and the startling beauty and horror of the falling ashes sets the tone of the montage. You can feel the grief of each of the characters, but there are moments of intimacy and love between the intense sorrow (and these connections make these final moments all the more painful for the viewers). These moments are some of the best images in the entire show, and they evoke so many feelings without having to overact the grief that the characters are feeling. These moments feel resigned, and the helplessness they all face is tangible. All they can do is search for the parts of their life that give them meaning and reprieve from their feelings of loss.

In these moments, Owen pets Buttercup and talks to Gwyneth about what has happened. He sits outside, after just recovering from lung cancer, and breathes in volcanic ash as he drinks tequila in a way that feels unhealthy. His survivor’s guilt from 9/11 is still strong, showing that loss doesn’t just go away over time. Marjan and Paul are together, and Marjan tearfully boxes with Paul. Mateo goes on a lone run, and you can imagine the dialogue that’s going on in his head— the pained thought that he is always in trouble. The guilt that naturally comes with such thoughts is probably intense. He runs to a church, halting in front of it as the song starts to reach its crescendo. He’s looking for meaning, and it is no coincidence that he is the one character who has no companionship in those moments. Tommy, meanwhile, tends to Buster, Tim’s kitty, who she has brought into her own family. The moment shows immense progress for Tommy, and it only took her one episode to make such large strides.

In one of the most powerful moments of the episode, we see T.K. entering Carlos’ apartment. He climbs up the stairs before falling into Carlos’ waiting arms; this instant is a glimpse of the intimacy that viewers have been wanting to see between the characters. It is a brief but painful moment. Echoing the scene between Carlos and T.K., Judd goes home to Grace, who is waiting in bed; she is still awake and pulls Judd closer. They have each other, and that is a small comfort. Judd’s face is filled with all the memories and sorrow that he has gone through in such a short time. He doesn’t close his eyes. It will be a sleepless night for everyone.

The episode was beautifully paced, and it showed the bond between the team. It emphasized relationships between characters over plots, and the balance between the characters felt more balanced. 9-1-1 Lone Star is making good progress with its characters and learning how to balance the large cast of characters. Nevertheless, the show still has work to do to make sure that the diverse characters are not objectified or ignored. Too often, characters like Grace and Carlos are used merely as puppets in other characters’ stories. For example, while Carlos was expertly played by Rafael Silva in this episode, his appearances were brief, and when he did appear, he furthered other people’s storylines, particularly T.K’s.�� The future for these often neglected characters looks promising, however, and the show will make great improvements if they learn to incorporate all the core characters better. 2100° shows both the progress that 9-1-1 Lone Star needs to make, but it also

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, November 9

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Prince Andrew fails lie detector -- new crisis rocks the palace 

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Bruno Toniolo shirtless, Heidi Pratt at a pumpkin patch in L.A., Jacqueline Bisset catches some rays in L.A. 

Page 3: Larry David leaves an L.A. office, Ellen Pompeo, Pete Wentz 

Page 4: Kathie Lee Gifford is talking to NBC bigwigs about coming back to Today and they’re hot over the idea but Hoda Kotb is not pleased and Jenna Bush Hager is feeling threatened because Jenna never really grabbed the audience like Kathie Lee did, Martha Stewart and Gwyneth Paltrow are heading into the holidays trash-talking each other even more than usual and their pals have nowhere to hide -- they’re snippier than ever and can’t get through the week without saying something crass but the trouble is they have the same friends and they use some of the same chefs and caterers and crew -- all their friends in the Hamptons including the Seinfelds and Beyonce and Jay-Z and Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley and Rachael Ray are trying to keep out of it but it’s impossible because Martha and Gwyneth are both screaming for loyalty 

Page 5: Legal hotshot and writer Jeffrey Toobin has been shelved by the New Yorker magazine for showing off his willie to co-workers during a Zoom conference call -- witnesses say Toobin was masturbating but he insists it was a blooper

Page 6: Dolly Parton was so lovestruck when she met Elvis Presley that she nearly chucked her marriage and career to shack up with Elvis -- Dolly is ready to tell all about Elvis after decades of protecting her husband Carl Dean and Elvis’ only child Lisa Marie Presley -- Dolly was in her late 20s and Elvis was in his late 30s when they had their sizzling encounter where she got dolled up to meet Elvis in a Nashville office and discuss working together and he wanted to do a duet but she didn’t trust herself to work with him and she didn’t even let Elvis do a cover of her song I Will Always Love You -- even though Dolly didn’t actually cheat on Carl she sure was tempted and she’s felt guilty about it ever since 

Page 8: Just two weeks after splitting with his wife of 14 years former Home Improvement kid Zachery Ty Bryan was arrested and jailed on charges of trying to strangle a terrified galpal -- after a night of partying where he was photographed surrounded by four gals with an iced bottle of vodka at the table Zachery reportedly got into a heated clash with his galpal and she claims Zachery grabbed her by the throat and squeezed then tried to snatch her phone when she attempted to call 911 so she ran to a neighbor’s home where she hid while cops were called 

Page 9: Distressed Kelly Clarkson and her two toddlers are in therapy to help cope with the anguish brought on by her divorce from Brandon Blackstock -- the talk show host is especially struggling because the split is playing out so publicly and the kids are seeing things about their mom on TV and she feels immense guilt about the divorce but knows it was the best decision because she wasn’t happy married to Brandon though she did try but staying in a marriage just for the kids wasn’t an option for her -- Kelly was deeply wounded when her father-in-law Narvel Blackstock’s management company recently sued her for $1.4 million in alleged unpaid commissions but she’s speaking with her ex privately in an effort to resolve the issue out of court but Kelly suspects he’s using it as a bargaining chip for a bigger settlement and also feels he’s using the kids against her as a weapon 

Page 10: Showbiz legend Michelle Phillips has become a shut-in who sits home alone tippling wine while watching movies on TV and listening to her hits from The Mamas & the Papas where she is the last surviving member of the band -- she’s sad the rest are all gone  and she’ll put on a record and sit in the dark; she misses them and so many other people -- she’s become a shut-in due to the pandemic and can’t bear for people to see her so old and haggard and overweight and all those years of partying have done their damage to her once-beautiful face -- she also hasn’t been able to see her young grandson and she’s grieving the loss of her longtime lover who died in 2017 

Page 11: Baywatch hunk Jeremy Jackson’s cover girl ex-wife has been found homeless wandering California’s mean streets in worn and shabby clothes -- lost for two years Loni Willison is now virtually unrecognizable with missing teeth and her long blond tresses cropped short -- she was found pushing a grocery cart filled with her battered possessions in Venice -- despite her tragic situation she insists she’d doing fine and doesn’t want help despite reportedly having drug and mental health issues 

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Rita Ora in a see-through frock (picture), Lily James got caught brazenly canoodling with the very much married Dominic West who plays her father in the BBC miniseries The Pursuit of Love, just weeks after Cardi B filed to dissolve her marriage to Offset she’s put the split on hold and all it took was Offset to spend bucks on a heart-tugging Sunset Strip billboard and a Rolls-Royce and a Hermes Birkin bag, Kate Hudson’s getting loose-lipped about gross snotty smooches with her leading man Matthew McConaughey 

Page 13: Vinny Guadagnino eating in Beverly Hills (picture), Kaitlyn Bristowe has a puffy trout pout (picture), Shia LaBeouf doesn’t let an apparent injury keep him from getting out and about in Pasadena (picture), Alanis Morissette says the fame that came with her 1995 revenge song You Oughta Know wasn’t so sweet but instead was an isolating experience 

Page 14: Nicole Kidman is starring opposite Hugh Grant in the thriller series The Undoing but she really wanted to plays Hugh’s love interest in Notting Hill except she wasn’t well-known enough, Reba McEntire has landed herself a brand new TV show which is a modernized Fried Green Tomatoes drama series in which she’ll play the present-day Idgie Threadgoode, Fashion Verdict -- Regina King 8/10, Isabelle Huppert 2/10, Queen Maxima 5/10, Tracee Ellis Ross 9/10, Cher 4/10 

Page 16: How John F. Kennedy stole the White House from Richard Nixon -- Chicago mob rigged the 1960 vote and cheated Nixon out of the presidency 

Page 19: True Crime 

Page 21: Parkinson’s patient Alan Alda is refusing to slow down at age 84 and friends fear the fragile M*A*S*H legend is headed for a devastating health crisis and he’s busier now than he ever was even during his sitcom days and he bravely says he lives with it by staying active but medication can only do so much and his friends and family including wife Arlene are worried he’s pushing himself too hard, teary-eyed Ringo Starr confesses his last conversation with dying Beatles bandmate George Harrison was heartbreaking and unforgettable -- Ringo wanted to stay with George until the end but his daughter Lee had been diagnosed with a brain tumor and Ringo had to rush to Boston to see her and when Ringo told George he had to go to Boston George said D’ya want me to come wit’ ya? so even on his death bed George made his best buddy smile while both faced unspeakable grief 

Page 22: 10 Things You Don’t Know About S. Epatha Merkerson, Today show host Hoda Kotb reveals Frank Sinatra Jr. was the show’s worst guest because he clammed up instead of touting a book about his famous dad in 2015, Khloe Kardashian confesses she once worked as Nicole Richie’s personal assistant because she just needed a job and they went to school together -- Nicole’s reality career crashed in 2007 which was the same year Khloe’s series started

Page 24: Cover Story -- Disgraced Prince Andrew has flunked a lie detector test on his close relationship with murdered American pedophile Jeffrey Epstein and now the rogue royal insists he’ll never cooperate with the FBI for fear his testimony will land him behind bars but Queen Elizabeth’s favorite son has his back against the wall as new evidence surfaces on both sides of the Atlantic -- Andrew is terrified newly released secret testimony from Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell is just the tip of the iceberg of what she’s prepared to reveal and Maxwell’s revelations detailing her twisted sex life come on the heels of an explosive new British book accusing Andrew of attending debauched events with Epstein where teenage girls were parading around topless -- even though friends close to Andrew say he did nothing wrong and has no reason to fear the prince may not have a choice about spilling his guts because the fed-up royal family is threatening to cut off the cash-strapped rogue unless he plays ball 

Page 25: Prince Andrew has been banished from the gift shop at his mother’s Balmoral Castle -- tourists can still purchase postcards her Her Majesty’s kids Prince Charles and Princess Anne and Prince Edward but Prince Andrew has disappeared which is a sure sign that Andrew is in the doghouse since items featuring Elizabeth’s beloved corgis are still up for sale 

Page 26: Health Report 

Page 27: Dirtiest places on planes exposed 

Page 30: Serial sleaze Matt Lauer’s ready to pop the question to girlfriend Shamin Abas over the holidays and he hopes for a brighter future with her a year after his 20-year marriage to Annette Roque ended in divorce -- Matt showers Shamin her with gifts and wants to buy a house on the East Coast where they can make new memories and Matt’s hinted he’s already bought the ring and plans to propose by New Year’s and he hopes to have a celeb-studded wedding at their new home, Kathleen Turner will be back at Michael Douglas’ throat as his acid ex in The Kominsky Method to fill the hole left by Alan Arkin who abruptly pulled out of the third and final season of the show

Page 35: Matthew McConaughey’s father predicted he’d die while making love to his wife and he did, desperate to turn back time Marie Osmond is going whole hog on a head-to-toe makeover -- Marie is no stranger to cosmetic fixes and she is considering a slew of procedures to get a new look that’ll knock ‘em out including everything from Botox and fillers to face-lift to boob job and lipo-sculpting to enhance her waistline -- the makeover is motivated by revenge because she’s bitter over recently being pushed off her co-host gig on The Talk and now she’s counting on a younger look to land her a plum new TV gig 

Page 38: Real Life Monsters 

Page 39: Kris Jenner blames social media for ending the 14-year run of Keeping Up with the Kardashians because when the show started there was no Instagram or Snapchat or other social media platforms but now she gripes that now there are so many the viewer doesn’t have to wait three or four months to see an episode but instead information spreads online in real time, Phil Collins’ ex-wife has traded him in for a 31-year-old guitarist who never managed to make much noise in the music industry -- Phil was furious when he heard Orianne Cevey married Tom Bates in Las Vegas, Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman died without a will according to his widow -- Taylor Simone Ledward filed a probate case in L.A. asking a judge to name her administrator of Boseman’s estimated $938,500 estate with limited authority

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Bruce Willis and Demi Moore’s daughter Rumer Willis claims posing for raunchy bondage shots proves she’s a liberated woman free from sexual stereotypes but it’s not that simple 

Page 45: Jeff Bridges is battling non-Hodgkin lymphoma which is a rampaging cancer that often spreads through the body to the liver and bone marrow and lungs -- while the cancer can be deadly experts say the five-year survival rate is 73 percent 

[roses-ruby]

Desperandum Victum Chapter 2

Jimin x Female Reader

Genre: Demon AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut (future chapters), Mature, Slow Burn

Warnings: The story will get really fucking dark, including themes of incest, cannibalism, rape, murder, slavery, gore, yandere, religion, and way more oof. This chapter has mentions of violence and gore at the end.

Word Count: 10,129

Summary: You’ve had a traumatizing hard life and you move to a new town for new beginnings. But what if this town was hiding secrets of it’s own?

A/N: Sorry I’m late, this was supposed to be out hours ago but I just got home and don’t know how to use the fucking queue. This was originally due weeks ago, but I redid the story 3 times because I didn’t like how it kept turning out hahahaha wrote over 34k words and for what??? Anyway, last boring chapter I promise! Shit’s about to hit the fan ya’ll. Unedited, sorry, let me know of you find any mistakes!

Buying an old house was perdition disguised as a home.

Jun scoured through the wires of the electrical system. FallHaven weather circumstances were something he was cautioned about beforehand. Days consisted of hard-hitting heat, while the dusks were frigid and aloof. The outdated HVAC wiring had made the temperatures of the self-contained rooms a roller coaster, never knowing how severely the ventilation of said room would get tropical or glacial. Behind him, beyond the croaking and crickets; laid his back-porch barrier, it’s paint chipping from the fractured foundation. He previously spent $1000 to fix the asbestos grit around the house, and just yesterday he made a call to confirm the rumors of lead paint. Never has he regretted anything more than not contacting a house inspector prior the move.

Closing the chaotic cabinet of cables, Jun huffs, patting the few beads of sweat with the bottom of his tank top. He’ll ask uncle Alp about it in the morning. Maybe he should start a fire tonight. Taking a few steps to his back door, he opens it and squints at the hallway’s light. Locking the knob, he turns around, treading into the hall leading into the living room, before he stops in front of your decrepit door.

Right after you stepped into the house, you shut yourself in your room. Not responding to any of his inquiries or pleads. The hours had passed on in silence, and the house seemed too lonely for the night. Your food was left untouched on the table. Wanting you to come out, he had made your favorite stew with the produce he bought today. Its rich spice had glided throughout the capacity. He knew it was fruitless, and he tried to be patient, but his mind glimmered with hope that you’ll come out your door in any moment, drool at the side of your mouth, ogling his food like a bear ogles at honey. He chuckled at the image.

But it didn’t come true. You hadn’t come out. You hadn’t even made a sound, and that to him was worrisome more than anything. As someone who always had a comment on everything, much to Jun’s displeasure, to see you so mute reminds him of those days. The worst fucking mistake of his life. A nightmare that often visits him still, making a nest in his subconscious like a fatal tumor. And then there’s the wounds on your wrist.

Jun wasn’t an impatient man; high off his own ego plenty to break down your protective barrier. It was something he had to teach himself, just like most of the things in his life, coming from a place where you don’t learn anything from anyone, but see it all anyway. Yet his intolerance for desolation splintered the shield that was his reasoning. He grew up this way. A string of impulsive verdicts-results of mental burdens, dissociating him from himself. They could only lead to tragedy and he’s had abundant amounts of that serving. So instead he’ll pride himself in being cautious, especially when it comes to you.

Staring at the imbedded wooden material, he starts fretting about your bruise. The color is probably richer and unusual. You hadn’t even let him look properly, and there’s no aid in your room. Biting his nails, he contemplates urgently of what to do. Teenagers are impossible, he sighs, you were much easier to handle when you were a kid. Not to mention cuter.

That’s when it hits him. He’ll sing that song you love, just like he used to when you were a kid! Yet he cringes as soon as he thinks it. It’s been a few years, and you were way older now. Still, it worked before, it worked during that nightmare. He soundlessly pleads with the god you believe in.

Quietly clearing his throat, he hums almost inaudibly. Can’t believe I’m getting warmed up for this, he reflects. If you don’t come out subsequently, he’ll die of grief or shame. Whichever hits him first. Pacing back a bit, away from your heavy door, he slowly begins to sing,

“Somewhere over the rainbowww-,”

…

“Waaa-y up high”

“There's a land that I heard of once, in a lullaby…”

“Somewhere over the rainbowww-, skies are blue,”

…

“And the dreams that you dare to dream…”

“…really do come true…”

A second passed. Then 10…eventually 30.

2 minutes had passed.

He looks down, dejected. Despair coursing his veins, he lets out a heavy breath; he didn’t want to go through this once more.

The lock clicks open!

His head jumps up to face the door being pulled in and your timid figure walking out. He wants to cry and give you a huge hug; wrap you around in his arms with love and comfort, but he doesn’t have the heart to scare you again, so he just stands there as you do too. You stare at him with meek eyes, the dark bags laying just beneath them pull at the strings of his heart.

Pulling his thoughts together he softly speaks to you,

“Hey”

He’s not sure what to say though

Does he question who that lady was? Does he ask about your wrist? Or dinner? Should he drop the topic and make a joke about something entirely different instead? Which option would make you open up? He’s as naïve as he was 3 years ago.

“Hi” you whisper

“Listen I know you don-”

“I don’t know” you interrupt Jun, “I don’t know who that lady was and I don’t want to”

“I’m gonna talk to some people about her tomorrow, someone should know” he cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in comfort, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let her come near you again”

You stare at the floor, not saying a word while Jun analyzes even the tiniest twitch of your nose

“Can I look at your wrist, princess?”

Shutting your eyes, you tense your shoulders. It’s all right, it’s just Jun you think, as you bring your wrist into view. The both of you were examining the purple blue hues around the skin together. Jun touches it lightly with his digits making you flinch, so he backs up before marginally trying yet again. Making contact with your cold casing, he shudders and averts his head before he grabs your fingers in his own and tugs your hand back down. He can’t come to terms with it still like a run-away, and it’s the one thing he deters from. How much of a coward he is.

“Jun-”

“Sorry, yeah I know,” He knows better than anyone, that’s what he said. But he doesn’t know when you make his way into his chest and wrap your arms over his trembling limbs. Doesn’t know he needs comfort more than you. Doesn’t know why you still trust him. Doesn’t know when you’ve grown up so much.

“Jun” you stifle in his shoulders, “It’s alright now, I’m fine. My wrist. My wounds…it doesn’t hurt, I don’t feel anything”

“I’m just sad,” He feels your tears on his shirt as you let out a choked sob, “That nothing has changed within 3 years. That I’m still so weak…she could’ve done anything”

“No, no, no!” Jun holds you protectively, “nothing is gonna happen to you…not when I’m around”

And you weren’t.

His evil mind brands the painful statement of his truth as he secures his senses and holds you tighter.

“…I just want to forget today Jun…please. I don’t want to talk about it again. Not when we have so much to look forward to”

“Anything…”

Just like him you don’t want to go through this again. You scarcely survived last time, and its misery expanses through your blood, the evidence on your wrist. Adversity is what you were doomed with, you were aware-made peace with it long ago. And so, like any survivor would; you did what you had to do to move on. Block out the pain and smile. Even if it kills you.

Removing your face off his torso, you wipe your tears with your fist.

“Did they find Mojo?”

“Mojo? …Oh, the dog? They did!” Jun laughs helping you wipe your tears, “He was found barking at a fresh beef jerky station”

Thank God he was safe. For some reason you assumed the old woman kidnapped him. Found barking at beef jerky huh…that sounds delicious.

 “I’m hungry” your lips form into a pout and you pat at your lowly rumbling stomach and Jun gives you the biggest grin

“Excellent” he says while fiddling his fingers together like an evil cartoon character “Let me go fix your plate and grab the first aid mwahahaha”

You’re extremely confused with his demeanor and make it known by scrunching your face in half confusion and half disgust

“Did you poison the food?”

“Ahahaha…no,” He starts stepping away towards the kitchen, “Some things just work out according to your plan”

“Like the lullaby?”

He stops in the middle of the hallway as the expressions on your face’s switches with each other “I didn’t know you were still so soft Junie”

“Shut up”

“And your voice! Have you been sneakily practicing Mr. Sinatra?”

“M-m-maybe you sh-should go to bed without food!” He stutters with a red face and his hands on his hips

That shuts you up as you give him a ‘Hmph!” and pass him on the hall into the dining room. “Whoa!” you gasp as you notice the clock, “11:41 already”

“WHAT?!” Jun shouts rushing into the room and witnessing your comment “You have school tomorrow! This isn’t good,” he grabs your plate at the table and speeds to the microwave

“Does this mean I get to stay up till 2?”

“NO!”

_

The weather was frosty these days, tickling you through the ruffles of your tight purple dress. You skipped amongst the inner lining of the wooded area, close enough to see the highway through the shrubs, holding tiny rocks in your fist. You weren’t fully clothed for the temperature, short sleeves and loose tights making your tiny limbs tremble for a good 20 minutes; you wanted to go home. Instead you distracted yourself by picking up little bits of the earth.

“Don’t get too close to the water” you hear from behind. Twirling on one leg, you observe the petite woman towering on the upper side of the ditch, glaring through your soul. She stood by one of the large dead trees, her arms folded across her chest.

There are shadows under her eyes, stiffening the complexion of her pale skin. She stares down at you with her flooded pupils. Her fingers scratching at her arm through the warm jacket she wore.

“The water…don’t get too close” She repeats in the familiar fatigued tone. Her scarf seems to be suffocating her neck, and the padded jacket made a sleek noise every time she made a move. You can spot her steady breaths in the bitter air. For a moment there’s nothing but silenced stares shared between you and her.

That vanishes as soon as a large black car passes by. She whips her head into the direction of the street she’s near, as her breath comes out in a speedier rate. You also turn away from her stature, focused on finding more rocks. They lead into the mini creek in the end of the ditch. Walking up to the creek, you squat to watch your reflection in the water. It was better than your small mirror, you think, fixing your beanie and wiping the stray hairs irritating your face.

“Hey! What did I tell you?” you once again turn to find her figure in your direction once again. There was a hint of anger in her pupils, she appears like she’ll walk up to you any second now until you hear another voice.

“It’s you right?” The stranger wearing all black paces up to her, he seemed scary – you couldn’t see his face by his hood covering, but he was taller than her and you were scared for her.

“Nice place you picked, asshole” She grits at him, having completely forgotten about your presence, digging into her purse feverously

“Come on, it’s a dead road sweetheart. No one comes around these parts” he laughs at her annoyed attitude.

He makes eye contact with you, and you sense your heart skip a beat. “Cute kid” he smiles at you.

The woman gives you a quick glance from her rummaging, “You’re scaring her” she returns to her digging

“Aww why? I’m not a bad guy,” he gives you a wave as she snorts

She gets out a bunch of money, you don’t know how much, it’s all stuffed and crumpled in her hand. Giving it a glance over, she shoves it into his chest. You watch him sigh, and mildly remove the cash from her fingers. He straightens out the bills and begins counting them.

“You’re short” He says, folding the notes and fitting them into his back pocket. “15 milligrams only”

“15?” she shouts before noticing her surroundings, and harshly whispers “You gave me 30 for this much last time”

“That was last time sweetheart, price’s changed”

You gawk as she leaps at him, her palms clutching the sides of his hoodie, having you seal your tiny rocks into your own palm. “P-Please – don’t do this” she spits out “It doesn’t – it barely works anymore, it hurts, it hurts so much – everywhere I-I can’t”

He pushes her off him, into the ground making you stand up straight as heat fills your bones. “That’s not my problem, don’t spit on me bitch” he yells as she heaves on the scattered dead leaves. He watches her struggle a bit before taking a long breath, “Shit, I didn’t mean that…I’ve already been having a bad day, don’t just jump up on me” he messes with his hoodie

Dragging her up to her feet, he takes out a petty clear bag, filled with white powder. Her neck’s bending towards the ground, she refuses to look up at him, which gets him rowdier. He pulls her arm up and crams the bag into her hand.

“You want more? Get more money” he sneers, “Sell that kid” he points at you

“Or better yet, buy her a jacket” he finishes, stomping away with his hands in his jacket’s pouch.

You watch him leave as the freezing wind picks up again. She doesn’t move a muscle facing away from your view. Having the alarms in your head pacified by the lull of the forest, you return your gaze to the creek. There’s a shiny rock in the center of the stream, which makes you squat out of curiosity once again. It’s shimmering the light of the sun, which you were sure was covered by fluffy clouds when you stepped outside. Your face turns up, as you make direct eye contact with the ball of glaring fury. Squinting at the flares you bring your small fist up to protect your sight.

At that moment you hear the crunching of leaves by your rear, a voice deeply surrounding your passive frame –

“What did I tell you about the water”

_

Sitting up in your bed you stare off into the corner of your messy mattress. The lining seems to be ripping from the sheet due to your endless fluster. You’re deep in your thoughts, not being comprehensively conscious to the morning chirps of blue jays – their high-pitched revenue placating you to doze off. In brief, you were still perplexed by your dream. It’s been a long while since you’ve thought of her.

Saturday was finally here. The rest day for a million chores, sunny and bright for your pleasure. You think back on the week, which has been smooth sailing minus a few unintentional mishaps. It's been an easy couple of days, if you take away your anxiety and the few occurrences where you’d look over your shoulder to make sure no elderly lady was following you. Yesterday you almost peed yourself when you ran into the neighbor lady. It was a coincidence, you didn’t know she’d be standing right in front of the entryway as you opened the door to leave for school, and she didn’t know you’d scream right in her face. Long story short, after you screamed, and she screamed, and Jun scolded you; she gave you some lemon meringues. The reason she was at your house. They were so delicious, you’d become fond of her.

Jun had been dropping you off to school these days. It was cute at first, until you realized all he would talk about was his favorite Alfred Hitchcock movies. Since almost all of them made you fall asleep, you weren’t exactly a fan. You didn’t heed to anything as soon as you caught other voices though, most likely students indicating the school building was near, so you booked it. Registering him running after you with a ‘Hey wait up’, you dashed into the gates and onto the platform leading inside the school. You were going to ignore him the whole way, but you had to feel guilt-ridden and twirled about to see him waving goodbye. Smiling, you return the gesture only to regret it as soon as he shouts

“Have a good day! I love you princess!”

-at the top of his lungs. That’s it. You were going to kill him. Spotting some students staring at you, the source of the weird old guy yelling, you sprint into the building with a muffled scream.

That was yesterday, and sadly he’s still alive and well.

Today was your officially your first church visit, hopefully to become a certified member of FallHaven Baptist Church. For some cause, you couldn’t deny you were nervous; the church had a bit of an intimidating exterior. Well at least you’d finally get to buy new shoes for school.

Speaking of school, you had made friends! Or well, Candance and ‘a’ friend. Her name was Jasmine, and she was the nicest red head, a complete package of glasses and freckles. She came over to ask if you were okay when you had a terrible headache on Wednesday. Afterwards you noticed her in a few other periods, which wouldn’t be odd considering there are 60 kids in senior year. Jasmine joined you and Candance for lunch since then. Maybe you’re becoming a bit too attached to both too quickly, fault of only your own social awkwardness. But you knew they’re both great people, as well as members of today’s church.

You feel guilty for even thinking this, but you hadn’t had a run-in Jimin around after the strange incident on Monday. Sometimes you’d spot him talking to a pretty girl in the back of the class. Or well, she would talk, sitting right on his lap while he looked out through the window. His guard would stand behind him without an expression and you found yourself growing even more interested in his world. It’s not that you had feelings for him, you knew yourself and that was impossible. You tried but you couldn’t get Jimin out of your head…or that look in his eye. His aura was magnetic, and you were drawn to him by an invisible force. Is Jimin also a member of the church? He must be, everyone else is. Then again Jimin wasn’t like anybody else, not with those enflamed locks and sharp abyss eyes.

Knock Knock

You break from your thoughts as your door speaks, “Heyyy~ you up? We’ve got to leave in an hour” Jun hums in a hype tone.

Listening to the tune in his voice reminds you of Monday night, how you were swept in his large arms and you could smell his soft oceanic scent – rosemary and a hint of musk from his burdens lingering his neckline. His uncovered skin was on your lips, your torso swallowed by his. You turn a bright red, clenching the sheets around your fingers before you choke a shout

“I’ll be out in a minute”

“Alright, breakfast is on the table” He responds and finishes walking away. Taking a huge sigh, you wake yourself by smacking your cheeks, swinging your legs off the bed and stretching your rigid physique. It’s going to be a long day.

The walk to the Church was a good 20 minutes. Jun had insisted today, no matter how many times you begged him not to, to conversate about how Casablanca was the greatest movie in American cinema. You didn’t know why he knew every character’s name by hand, but that was another mystery of the Fabulous Jun. Letting him talk to his fulfillment was the best option, sighting how he sulked the tiniest every time you interrupted him.

By now, it should be obvious that Jun doesn’t have a car. Ironic, seeing where he works. It’s another reason why you moved here, everything was meters from each other. The town’s population was about 2100 folks from what Uncle Alp told you, and that number seemed so miniscule compared to the busy city. You think Jun was the most excited to move here, he was never much of a people’s person and the somber skies, reticent road gave him comfort. Your poor lone wolf.

“And that’s why Rick doesn’t believe in god”

“…Wait, what?” You turn to stare at him, the sentence your ear caught far more interesting than the pebble you were kicking with your feet.

“Weren’t you listening? I was just explaining the bane of existence Rick Blaine has to deal with!”

“Jun, we’re literally walking to church, would you please knock it off with the jokes?”

“Come on” He winks, “We’re going to be Christians in a good hour, can’t I have my fun while it lasts”

You roll your eyes to hide a smirk, ready to leave him behind once again when you spot huge white gate tubes from the corner of your eyes.

As you come face to face with the front gate, you stare at the gigantic structure known as the church. The white bricked building made the holy edifice seem even holier. The place was built like a palace, complete with a royal entrance pathway you walk through with Jun. Each side of the pathway had an endless field of grass, containing some of the most colorful flowers on earth.

“Not bad” He whispers

As you walk up to the building, you notice the gray bell tower on the right side of the roof. You wonder which lucky fellow gets to ring that bell. Once you get inside though, is when even Jun becomes speechless.

The interior stretches for a mile, the chapel big enough to seat the whole town. A warm aroma sifts through the wood of the benches, and you feel like you can stay in this golden-lit room forever. Stained glass was at every corner of the room, letting through the light the images wished. At the altar resided a large organ piano, candles decorating the pillars of the organs, burning an intense flame for it’s visitors.  Above the piano stood the crucified Jesus, the pain sculptured on his face an intimidating reminder for anyone that comes across the his eyes. The chapel seemed decorated. White flowers adorned the benches of the sanctuary, and people seemed to be polishing the walls. A set of people were on a ladder, pulling up a decorative banner. You spot Joan at the right side of the room, by a small statue of Mary, chatting with 2 strangers that seemed to be closely heeding her words.

“Joan,” Jun calls out to her, and when she turns to him, he waves. She says her farewell to the strangers and comes your way. You wish there was someone else who could show you around, but alas luck was not on your side.

“Welcome, we have been patiently awaiting your arrival” Joan smiles, walking up to you with her hands held together

“Are the preparations for us? You shouldn’t have!” Jun jokes

Joan gives him a swift gaudy chortle, making you squint. That bad gag sure made her happy. Actually, everything seems to make her happy.

“We are getting ready for the arrival of one of our most cherished facility members. He will be attending our sermon tomorrow, you two have arrived on a marvelous period for the town” She gleams

“He sounds like someone special…has he been gone somewhere?” You question

“Yes, he has been lending a hand to the victims of the tragedy in Samaria in the beginning of the month…he has currently completed his concerns on the town and is returning home. His family is holding a ceremony for him tomorrow to reward his efforts”

You and Jun offer sympathetic glances.

The fire in Samaria had been circulating on television for weeks. In the beginning of the month, a local well-loved priest in the small town of Samaria had shut in worshippers during mass and torched the statue of Jesus on the cross in the front of the altar. 300 lives suffered grave deaths, including his own. It was said spectators could hear the vibration of children screaming through the blaze from a hundred miles around, as firefighters tried to tear down the bolted doors. Not a single survivor.

“We would love to be here tomorrow,” Jun smiles

“And we would love to have you. Now please come this way,” She extends her arm toward the inner hall on the right, “Our Archbishop is quite excited to meet you”

You follow Joan along the hall, her heel’s clacking echoing around the assembly of the broad interior. The ceiling was caved outward and dispersed among the hallway to the very end. It was the biggest building you had ever been inside, and your neck ached as you pressured your marveled gaze upon everything. The church had a dim, golden color and you walked along indoor pillars; each pillar encompassing a soft light fixture and a holy cross. Every column had a large brown door.

“Um, Joan, I read on your brochure this place has a confessional? As far as I know New Testament Christians don’t believe in the confessional method.” You see Jun’s expression out of the corner of your eye at your question. He was dazzled at your knowledge. Heh, how insulting.

“You are absolutely right, ___” She turns her head a bit and you spot her pleasant expression beyond her blonde tresses, “Actually, we are the only place of worship for many for around a thousand miles. This Church is also famous for its beauty. Everyone becomes enraptured with it, like you have,” She laughs as you blush. When did she catch you in amazement? “Members of our family come from far and wide to seek refuge in our humble Church, and therefore to ease their souls, we offer a great many sources for all kinds of our relatives. Including Protestants and Evangelist. We also offer everyone a place at the Holy Communion, baptized or not .”

“That’s…amazing. And so kind.” You awe. This was great, I mean you still wanted to be baptized along with Jun. New beginnings and all, but it’s great that you’re Church is so open hearted.

“Are there any problems because of this? Like do any leaders from those other tribes get upset?” Jun casually ponders, while you elbow him for asking something so insensitive…and did he just call them tribes?

“Au contrair!” Joan giggles, “We have the Vatican’s blessing, and many devout religious leaders visit our Church with boundless respect” She stops and turns her body toward the right side of the hallway, while you both have a clear view of her face. She smiles way too much. “So yes, our “tribes” get along well”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude” Jun mutters, scratching the back of his head

“Oh no, I didn’t take your words for offense, Jun” Joan steps closer to the wall, hidden from your sight by a pillar “This is our Archbishop’s office” She knocks on what you believe is a door.

You hold your breath as the door glides open, the slight creaking at the hinges relaying it’s ancient age.

Out steps a sharply dressed tall old man. He embodied a tan-colored suit, edges ironed to perfection and not a fringe out of place in his off white head of hair, combed perfectly neat to the right. There was a handkerchief poking out from his front pocket and a brown bow tie adorning his collar. You couldn’t recognize any signs of fatigue and barely that of aging. The facial format of his appearance communicated passion and vigor, the wrinkles around his clear coffee eyes were soft and fresh, while the lines of his mouth were welcoming. Nothing but his hair gave away his age, not even a sun spot adorned his porcelain skin. He had the same stretchy smile on his features like Joan.

“Are these two beautiful souls our new neighbors?” He spoke in a harmonious tone of voice. You could sift the aura of a dominant charisma emitting from his stature from every word.

“Yes, they are!” Joan replies, “They want to become members of our Church, isn’t that wonderful, Robert? This is Robert,” She directs her words at Jun, “the Archbishop and eldest head of our Church”

They both stare at you, practically illuminating holy lights out of their asses, temporarily blinding you and Jun.

“Yeah, It’s nice to meet you, sir” Jun steps up and held out his hand; which the pastor, who you notice is taller than Jun, encompasses in both his palms, for an extra friendly greeting “My name is Jun and this is my sister, we just moved here last week, looking forward to joining your lovely Church, if you’d let us”

“This Church is open to any soul submitting himself to God” Robert speaks, rubbing Jun’s hand with both of his own, to which Jun uncomfortably laughs

“And you” He turns to you as you slightly startle, “Are you willing to submit your being to the high and mighty, little lamb?” He lets go of Jun’s hand and faces you. As do Jun and Joan, which irks the anti-attention personality in you.

“Um yes, I’m ___” You offer him your hand, which is easily taken in both of his own again. You immediately feel his warmth traveling through your arm from contact of his fingers, as he glides it over your casing delicately. It was as if he was a furnace. Goosebumps arrive on the affected area of the skin.

He pauses just a bit suddenly, and you watch his eyes open a bit further through his big smile, the corner of his lip turning downward. The chocolate of his iris had become darkened until it was an endless black, staring through your outer layers. You felt naked even with your clothes on, and it frightened you so you slowly pull your hand back. Trying not to make a rash movement.

Yet as soon as it came, it was gone.

He pulled your hand towards him again, and the blank gaze had dissolved into the familiar sweet caramel expression – not giving you a chance to react. You look at Jun and his relaxed expression, neither of the other two noticed your discomfort. Which was rare for Jun.

“Joan, You’ve done right by bringing these two here. I can tell they’ll fit right in and bring much fortune! You both are official FallHaven Baptist Church members”

“Oh wonderful!” Joan claps in celebration

Robert puts his arms in the air, his fingers and head raised towards the sky, “I can feel it already, the lord sending a message through me.” You stay still and watch as Joan immediately pulls out a wooden cross from underneath her blouse, bringing it up to her lips and chanting something under her breath. Jun takes a step back.

“He wants me to do it as soon as possible, he wants it done immediately. Yes Lord! For I am your humble servant! You both,” He turns back to you, “Will be baptized at tomorrows communion! Praise the Lord!”

“Amen!” Joan shouts, a bit out of breath and you notice how much her pupils dilated.

“Alright then boy,” He lets go of holding you under his intense gaze and rotates to Jun while you discreetly rub at your hand through your extra-long sleeves.

“Why don’t you and I have a little chat about some grown up stuff, while Joan gives a sort of tour of our holy house to the little lamb here” He puts his hand on your shoulder to refer to you and you stiffen immediately

“Sounds good” Jun raises a eyebrow at you “You alright with that?”

Alone with Joan?

“…Yes”

“Oh small one,” Robert slightly rubs his thumb around the back of your shoulder, “You’ve done so well by accepting Jesus. No longer will you grieve alone, for he will be by your side. He’s made it clear to you, he has!”

“I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born, says the Lord! And that’s you!” He raises his finger into your face, his voice dominating through the walls of the hallway, echoing off the corners of the roof “You’re born again!”

“You’re free from your suffering!”

_

Walking down the left hallway on the second floor, you marvel at the glass ceiling, the cloudless sky letting in all the wonders of the world. Through the golden hues, you watch as Joan struts in front of you in the glittering hallway, occasionally detailing the authenticity of paintings and figurines decorating each side of the walls. So far, you’ve had the pleasure of seeing the study, the confessional also known as the reconciliation room, and the bell tower.

She displayed the charisma and pride of an honest church member. Bragging about many key aspects the large shelter provided. In total, the cathedral could serve up to 2000 worshippers at a time. It wasn’t the Jubilee, but it was still an amazing feat.

There were a few things you had learned already. The youth bible study met up twice a week after school. Classes for certain instruments and vocal lessons were also available. You signed the roster immediately after seeing the name of the person that led the group. Sunday mass lasts an hour after sunrise, led by the Archbishop and called for by the large bell tower. For those who miss it, there’s a make-up held by one of the priests and a deacon in the evenings. On Easter, mass lasts 3 hours with additional services including altar calls and extra hymns led by the youth group. It was so surreal, you were now actually apart of a community and you were going to do things with them…like a family does. For so long, it’s been just you and Jun. Speaking of him, you muse on how touchy he’ll get at you coming home late, or how cranky he’ll be in the early mornings for mass.

You let out a soft chuckle imagining his furrowed eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth flipped downside in a strong pout. Joan steps up to a door and you follow close behind, she pushes it open and turns to you.

“This is our Biblical library! The 4th largest in the world!” She pleasantly brags about the brightly lit room, where you have to keep your jaw from dropping. It finally made sense as to why this church was as big as it was.

Your eyes glaze over the giant cherry wood shelves, towering over the lax white chamber, straining your neck to the clouds. They pushed on for miles, one shelf after the other harboring hundreds of books. It was a bit intimidating. There were tables containing a few busy bodies lingering the maroon carpet in the front, and everything was vast and silent. At the front desk, there was a lady with a pointy nose which her bifocals rested upon, reading a blank brown covered book and whispering to herself inaudibly. She covered herself from head to toe with a black veil wrapped around her figure, a tunic like dress connected to a bib at the neck-line. A nun.

“Sister Haggith” Joan leans in to whisper to you, “She oversees the library and everything that comes with such a task. She knows every nook and cranny of this place, including each book and it’s location. Sister Haggith is an amazing woman, and another trusted member of the board”

“Wow” You gasp, “Is she from the monastery?”

“Yes, she has been with us for 21 years. Actually quite a few of our sisters have work around town. Have you gotten the chance to visit your school’s infirmary?”

“No, not yet. But I’ll be sure to check it out,” you tell her and she replies with a smile.

In the corner of the room, one of the clear glass cases catch your eye. Inside the display case was a worn out piece of khaki paper, looking about 100 years old. The paper was thin and fragile, torn the slightest at each of the ends. There was something written in shrill black ink, but you were too far away for it to be anything but blurry.

“Um, may I ask about that?” You shyly point at your object of interest and Joan follows your line of sight.

“Oh!” She chirps “The scripture of Nathanael”

When you give her a confused look, she leads you toward the stand with a ‘come with me’. Next to the  display case were a few other ones, containing more ancient objects. Another that caught your eye was an extremely rusted dagger.

You examine the tabloid carefully, now that you were closer, you could easily read the paper. Or not? The writing wasn’t in English.

“What does it say?”

“It’s in Hebrew” Joan answers, “It was given to us by an angel from the heavens. He identified himself as Nathanael”

She bends down and reads a sentence off the paper, “thy fate lies in the conscious of thy choices; of thy wilt to serve the mighty”

Immediately your mind rushes toward what Candance had told you; about the tower and the famine and the ‘great warning.’

“It’s true” you accidently whisper out loud

“So, you have been enlightened?” Joan asks

“Yeah…I think…” You grin awkwardly

“There is no need to worry, there’s quite a few fables made about the tower” Joan giggles, “The reality is simple though. 120 years ago, our town was made up of devout Christians, filled to the brim with their love for our father.” She looks toward the ceiling happily, “They were refugees of the south, unbinding from their laws and wars, seeking a place to start over. However, we were new to this land. We settled into it’s foundation in the beginning of that year.” Her tone suddenly deepens and she slowly brings her head back down, “And you see, sometimes foundations become barren. Sometimes they crack. Then comes the drought”

For the first time you see Joan frown. That one word has her staring deep off into space, no longer a silver of light in her eyes. She stands there, glaring a hole through the white wall, and time slows around you both as you shift uncomfortably at the heavy atmosphere. You much rather have her creepily smiling.

“The drought” she whispers “That summer, the heat…the sounds of battle cries over the horizon…so endless, so suffocating. Oh how bad the drought was” she closes her eyelids as she shivers slightly. “We prayed and prayed and prayed for the bad drought to go away, on our knees till they bled, till our mouths were dry and our eyes felt that they would fall off. Oh bad drought go away, Oh Lord save us! And it happened” She raises her arms up into the air and open her eyes with one sudden motion, as you watch with astonishment

“Just like he promised! A miracle, a great mercy! He came down to us, he saved our damned souls!” the corners of her eyes well up, as she breathes heavily into the air practically yelling each syllable, “We-

“Joan!”

You both jump as a stern voice interrupts the silence of your small corner. There you spot Sister Haggith, quiet and still, her intimidating aura making you feel small. She appeared out of nowhere.

“You are being too loud, child. Shall I remind you of what a library is?” She speaks, staring through Joan as someone insignificant and you can feel the lady beside you straighten herself.

“Y-you are correct. I am so sorry” she takes a handkerchief out of her blazer’s breast pocket. She dabs  sweat from her forehead with her fabric and turns to you. You notice how dilated her pupils are again, and you find yourself worrying for her.

“I-I am sorry, the moral of the story is that angel Nathanael saved us from the drought and laid down ground rules, which are written in the scripture. Alright, we should get on our way,” Grabbing your arm, she commences to walk away from the displays, around the woman who hadn’t moved an inch and toward the large doors as you wince.

You make a grunt of disapproval which has her peeking back and letting go of your arm. As you both step out of the library onto the foyer of the hallway, she treads quietly in front of you, until you both are once again in the chapel.

She turns around, and looks at you with apology.

“I am sorry, once again for my behavior. I get deep into my feelings about our lord, but a library is no place to behave that way.”

“No, I didn’t…think anything…”

“Is your wrist alright?” She questions suddenly

“Um-what…”

“You seemed like you were in pain when I held your arm,”

“Oh yeah,” You bring your arms up and pull down your sleeve to revel a thin layer of bandage around your wrist.

“My goodness,” Says a shocked Joan

“Oh no! It’s not what you think! Jun is just easily suggestible, and it’s just on until the bruise vanishes”

“Bruise?” She says, even more worried than before

“No – I mean yes, I ran into a small accident, but it’s no big deal really!” You flail your arms around in denial, trying desperately to mend her concern

“There you are!” A familiar jolly voice interjects you

“Robert!”

“Jun!”

You both shout in unison, a wave of relief unapologetically obvious in your voices.

“You ladies have a grand time?” Robert asks as he walks up to you and Jun trails behind with a wide grin

“Just wonderful” Joan answers, her blinding smile re-embellished on her features

“It was great, I learned a lot” You reply, taking a peek at Jun and his suggestive expression. He was holding in a laugh.

“Now that’s what I like to hear ‘round here!” Robert laughs out loud, “Me on the other hand loves this goofy fella” He pats Jun on the back

Jun jokes back at the senior, “Not as much as we love Thanksgiving dinner” he winks

You pale at the horrendous joke, while Robert cackles louder and pats Jun harder as he holds his abdomens with his other arm, seemingly in better spirits than in the morning. Joan covers her mouth and lets out a tiny giggle as well, while you make a strange ‘ha ha’ sound.

“See, see, what I tell ya, he’s goofy!”

Jun looks at you with accomplishment while you subtly roll your eyes at his ‘charm act.

“Alright then, I’ll see you both here in the early morning! Your baptism will be right in front of the chapel, after the service!” Robert informs you

The four of you exchange a few other pleasantries, and before you know it you’re on your way home with a slushy and a new pair of shoes in your hand.

“I didn’t know there were so many cake varieties before!” You chirp, marveling at the cake shop you had stopped by in the mall.

“Well I for one, am excited to try out this new electric hand mixer” Jun takes out a box from his shopping bag of said item, “Always wanted one of these”

“$4 bucks says you break on the third try” You squint your eyes, teasing the tall boy next to you

“And where will you get that money?” He asks as a matter of fact, making you ‘hmph’ in return

“…Do you like the church?” Jun questions

“…I do” You return, looking at his expression for something hidden. You just could never tell what he was thinking.

He smiles, “Robert’s quite the character, huh?”

“Yeah, Robert’s…something”

As you’re discerning, you make a turn at the intersection just to trip over one of your shoes and fall onto the pavement. Thank god your drink was almost empty, you think as the slushy falls by your side. You catch your body on your hand and knees as your bag slips out of your hand and into the ditch on the side of the sidewalk. Jun shouts your name as he bends down to check on you and you let out a curse watching the bag roll down the patchy green hill, toward the canal. Quickly, you get up and run after it while Jun runs after you, still yelling your name and telling you to stop.

Before your bag goes anywhere near the water, a long silhouette halts the object and picks it up with one hand. When you get closer you recognize the figure to be a young man, wearing a white suit. Your running ends and you stand a feet away from him, when he turns to look at you, taking away your breath for a good minute.

In the serenity of that afternoon, when the sun was at it’s highest and the nightingale sprung it’s chorus; the water reflected the colors of the rainbow and the winds softly whispered through your body, you met an angel.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon. Is this yours?”

He hands you the bag you had already long forgotten about. You stare at him, as motionless as a feather while you watch his face turn to one of confusion.

“Yup, that’s hers! Thanks man!” Jun breaks you out of your daze as he takes the bag from his fingers.

“Um, yes. Thank you so much!” You splutter, embarrassed              

“It’s nothing” He smiles and your jaw drops open

Dimples.

“Bye the way, you took quite a fall back there. Are you alright?” He asks

When you fail to answer, Jun nudges you, breaking you out of your daze for a second time.

“M-more than! I don’t feel any pai-ow!” You grab your wrist and remember your injury. It feels suggestively worse than when you first got it. It couldn’t be that you sprained it…could it.

“Shit, I knew it was just a matter of time!” Jun shouts, grabbing your wrist to take a look himself

“Owwww, don’t pull it!” You whine tugging your arm back

You play tug of war for a bit, before you feel someone else gently grab your wrist and you both freeze. Namjoon opens your sleeve, and places his fingers on your wrist. He delicately presses down a few times,

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” and it didn’t. All the pain had evaporated just like that while a strong warmth spreads in place of any discomfort. Namjoon concentrates on your bandage, and it appears as if he could see through it, which makes you subconsciously draw your arm back. He couldn’t notice it, could he. While you stare at him, Jun’s head awkwardly angled to the side slides into the corner of your eye.

“I’m glad, must’ve been temporary” Namjoon says, releasing your hand and backing away, “Are you both new in town?”

“Yes, we just moved in a week ago!” Jun responds

“And how do you like my town?” He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

“It’s been well, the house is old so adjusting’s a bit tough but we’ll get the hang of it”

“Where did you both move in from?”

“One of the inner cities from the north”

Namjoon becomes silent. “The one where they…uh…I-I’m sorry”

“It’s no big deal” Jun thwarts his worry, “Everyone’s reaction is the same, so we keep it hush-hush, but yeah”

“We’re town-folk now” You add

Both men look at you for a moment before they laugh.

“That’s right” Jun says through a gummy smile

“Of course,” Namjoon pipes in with his dimples

“We should get going, I need to make a few arrangements,” Jun shakes Namjoon’s hand as they exchange names, “See you around Namjoon? At the pub maybe?”

“Maybe, but not there,” Namjoon chuckles, “I’m still in school”

You and Jun look like a fish out of the water. I mean, he looks so mature? So wise? Which high schooler could be this angelic?

“So maybe I’ll see you around” He winks at you

You feel your legs give out but you hold still to not further your humiliation “H-how-”

“Every kid at FallHaven high wears those” He points at your shoes “Which grade are you in”

“S-senior year”

“Me too! Hopefully we’ll be class buddies”

“But I haven’t seen you around before?” You say

“I’ve been on a trip, just returned today. Monday will be my first day back”

“Wow! This is so cool cause she doesn’t have a lot of friends but you look like a popular guy, Namjoon! Take care of her! Hey come on over after class sometime and I’ll make you my famous choco-“

“Let’s go!” You push a rambling Jun, red-faced at his blabbering

“Wait, I’m just talking to the nice young ma-”

“Jun, we’re leaving!” you shout at the older boy

“B-bye, see you at school” You shyly shout back at Namjoon through the idiot’s screeching. Blushing harder when he waves a goodbye with an amused expression

As he leaves your view, you thought you spotted someone running up to his side, but maybe you were mistaken.

“I like him!”

“I get it Jun, you’ve said it a hundred times” You giggle at the child-like expression on his face. As you take one step after the other, almost at your house, Jun wouldn’t stop talking about the encounter with Namjoon. You liked him too. He was such a gentleman, so much class. School was going to get so much more interesting. Wait…Why was everyone at your school so good-looking. What’s up with that. How’re you going to survive being surrounded by hot people? Especially that one guy,

“Jimin”

“Who?”

It takes you a second to figure out you’ve said his name out loud, and when you take your eyes off the ground, Jun is glaring a hole right through your face.

“W-what?”

“Who’s Jimin” He questions with his breath in your face

“Nothing, go away” You avoid him

“First you’re a blushing mess in front of Namjoon, and now you’re whispering a name of a boy I never heard about?”

“I-I wasn-”

“I guess it’s time to tell you this” He looks ahead suddenly, his features hardened and serious

You watch him breathe through his nose, and blink slowly and you find yourself becoming nervous “Tell me w-what”

“The moment has come” He stops walking as your right in front of your house and puts all his focus on you, which in return makes you gulp.

“Princess…” the wind picks up and you gaze at him with goosebumps on your skin

“When a man and woman fall in love, sometimes they get these urges to become one, now what those are-”

“Say one more word and you won’t be able to pee standing up again”

_

You were making your bed after setting up the alarm clock Jun had bought you. It was time to sleep for tomorrow’s big day and your teeth were chattering just thinking about it. That and it was really cold inside the house. Uncle Alp had told Jun he would talk to some guy he knows, but so far you haven’t heard anything further. Hopefully it would be fixed by the end of next week. You don’t know how many more nights you’ll have to survive sweating through your house in the middle of the day and becoming a frozen statue on your bed at night.

In the mall, before you had lunch, Jun reminded you a hundred times to get a heater, but guess who forgot. Honestly you did it on purpose so he’d take you shopping again, but he doesn’t need to know that. What you didn’t like about today was Joan calling Jun by his name. I mean, adults call each other Mr. last name unless they’re close, right? Especially respectful ones like ‘Joan’ but here she was “hahaha Jun this hahaha Jun that.’ Ok, maybe you were being a bit mean. You felt really bad when Joan got yelled at by that elder lady. There is something about the old people in this town that freaks you out. Learning more about the town was a good thing. You were gonna revisit that Scripture and see what else you can find out about FallHaven. At least there’s no cannibalism.

You walk by your closet and take off your dress. It was when you were changing into your pajamas that you notice your wrist. The bandage was still wrapped around it but it didn’t hurt. It hadn’t hurt all day. Curious, you remove the tape and unwind the white ribbons off your wrist. Your heart beats a bit louder as it clears itself off your skin.

You let out a gasp.

Smooth, clean, no signs of staining or any discoloration. Twisting your wrist around, you decide to give it a flick. And still, no pain, no ache.

This morning, you had opened up the bandage to find a light purple bruise. Then just a few hours later…it vanished? Something wasn’t adding up. You recall how the pain had disappeared when Namjoon had touched it. Could he have somehow healed you?

Did people like that exist?

But then again. Those marks were still there. The reminders of your hell still scarred into your vision. If he had healing abilities…wouldn’t he have healed these? Definitely. So he’s not a healer, just a very good-looking boy. But then…where’s your bruise?

Argh, it was giving you a headache. Either way you won’t need this stupid bandage anymore, you think as you stand up and throw it in the dust bin. Shutting your door closed, and lights off, you cheerily skip onto your bedside and jump onto the springy mattress. Lying in bed and wrapping the covers around yourself tightly, you close your eyes in hopes to doze off into a new bright and sunny day. Today was over, and you and Jun were safe. In the end that’s all that mattered.

_

Bzzz Bzzz

It’s fully dark when you regain conscious and there’s something light knocking into your face. With your eyes closed in discomfort you swat away at whatever’s bothering your slumber.

Bzzz Bzzz

You sigh, as you fan yourself. Why was it so hot? Did Jun get the heat to work again? You kick off your covers, but then realize that there’s nothing to kick off. There was nothing covering your body but your pajamas.

Bzzz Bzzz

“Fuck” You sit up in your pitch black room. Turning to check the time, you spot 2:57 on your clock. That’s when you see a little black dot fly into your view, and you work quickly to stamp your hands together. It works because you feel something between your palms. Hesitant to let go, you move your arms away from you and open them up.

“Ew what the-”

You say at the sticky black goo encasing both your palms. Examining in through the moonlight, you stare at the icky gunk on your hand as the curtain from the window brushes your shoulder.

Wait, what?

You whip your head toward the missing glass above your bed in horror. Why was your window open?

Who opened it?

Before you know it, you’re breathing heavily and you turn around into your dark room once again. The quiet no longer giving you a sense of calm, instead replaced with the terror of reality. Someone broke into your room, the alarms go off in your head, and your sense of rationality goes flying out the open window. It’s dark, but you can make out most of the furniture in your room. And that’s where you see it.

In the corner of your room, by your dresser stands a long, bulky dark shadow, the recognition had you tightening your fingers on your sheets.

At this point your hyper ventilating as tears stream down your face.

“W-who” Is all you manage to make out, closing in on yourself to protect your body from any potential harm.

Bzzz Bzzz

There’s a minute that goes by before the shadow moves closer, and this time there’s buzzing surrounding you. You look around the room and it’s filled with tiny black spots rummaging the shadows, you choke on your sobs, as the buzzing grows louder. One of the black dots land right on your hand. The moonlight exposing the common fly. Yet there was something off about it. You shoo it off, covering your ears with your hands, you shut your eyes tight as you fall over, face first onto the bed; trying to drown out this nightmare. Every second the buzzing becomes louder and unbearable and you feel the shadow right on your back.

Then it stops.

No buzzing

No shadow

No flies

You peek out from your hands staring at the spot once occupied by the thing when you feel something brush your ear

“Don’t be scared”

A deep, gruff voice is all you hear before your back is being plowed open by what seems like a claw. You scream out at the feeling of your skin being ripped open on your back. Something attaches itself to your spine as you cough out blood in the middle of your deafening shrieks. Writhing on bed as the shadow holds you down, you scream and whimper out your lungs. Flies cover your face and drown out your own ears until you can only hear your internal damnation. Years of deeply buried memories come swelling up, and you claw at your mattress for some sanity.

You feel every rip and tear of flesh, every drop of blood pour from your back, every nail of the claw digging into the deepest corners of your body,

and in that moment, you wish for death.

You wake up with a loud gasp, as tears stream down your face. Turning your eyes at every inch of your room, your hands rapidly move across your body. There’s no blood, no opening, no trace of any violence. Turning to face the window, you find it shut and barren. Shivers run up your body from the cold room. Which calms you down the slightest. Sweat pours through you like an open drain, your pores still living in your nightmare. You check your clock, the 3:00 am glares back at you in bold red. A dream.

Just a dream. You slow your heavy breathing wrapping your arms around your torso, yet there’s no end in sight for your tears.

You’re about to calm down when you feel it. There’s bile crawling up your throat, you’re aware of the suffocating substance littering your esophagus. Falling out of bed, you crawl your way out of the room. You drag your body with your hands, barely making it over the toilet. It doesn’t take long – just one groan and you’re disgorging today’s contents into the toilet bowl. Everything’s chaotic and wet, saliva attaching the last bit of your vomit to your mouth. Coughing out the last fillings of your insides, you spit into the putrid bowl, before flushing away any trace of retch. Grunting, you crawl back towards your room, there’s absolutely no sensation in your legs. You tremble as you make your way back into your mattress, pulling up the blankets on your sore limbs.

It was just a dream. You aren’t gonna tell Jun because it’s over. It was a dream. Some hellish nightmare born from the uneasiness of your past traumas and changes you aren’t comfortable with. You’re safe. There’s no shadow, there’s no monster. Dad’s not here. Jun doesn’t need to worry because of you. It’s over.

You shake like that for another hour or two, it feels like someone is smashing a hammer into the side of your skull, before you somehow pass out on your bed.

[everlastingartist]

Alright then this is the third chapter, and it going to be a tear jerker. But I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

It was nearly a month since Chloe's even seen Spike but staying in the house and dealing with cleaning and washing dishes while their mother was gone away, for testing and then for surgery was hard on all of them, especially Chloe. 

Joyce had asked Chloe to go buy some milk for tomorrow or they would be out completely. 

Chloe simply nodded without saying  anything other than. "I love you,  Mom. I'll be back in a jiffy." " I love you too, Chloe. You're such a good girl." Joyce smiled as Chloe grabbed her mother's  car keys and left to go up the road to the supermarket across from town. 

Chloe would be twenty minutes tops, unaware that Joyce had clutched her head with her hand and passed out on the couch. 

Twenty minutes later,  Chloe had opened the front door,  with other items then just milk for the house.

" Mom?" Chloe's voice echoed into the living room  but when she went towards the kitchen,  Chloe  stopped as her eyes morphed into shock, fear then grief.

There Joyce laid on the couch, eyes staring out into the room with no life in them at all. Chloe's hands had dropped the bags, the items in the bags popped out and scattered all over the living carpet.  Her knees buckled and dropped to the floor below her. 

Their mother was gone and Chloe didn't..need a fucking Doctor to figure it out.  Chloe curled herself up with her knees up against her  and her face rested on  her knees as seeing her mother dead shook her to her core.

Buffy opened  the door  and called out as she saw flowers by Brian.

After calling and Joyce not answering, Buffy tries to wake up they're mother by shaking and slapping her, nothing. Buffy tries to use her strength, Chloe stands up in a flash and grabs her sister. " No! You'll  break her rib cage!" Chloe's eyes covered with tear stains on her cheeks as Buffy  was surprised Chloe was here. Chloe arms wrapped around Buffy as they both start  crying again. Buffy pushes Chloe's arms from and calls  911.

As they arrive and take Joyce away, Chloe and Buffy sat on opposite sides of the room. It was dark out, the scoobies gang would be here.

Chloe had to get out of the house, and with Buffy's little trio. Being around anyone was bad with this much grief and anger running through her, taking a walk might help. 

 

Chloe stands from the couch, grabs her coat after looking over her shoulder towards Buffy and Dawn. 

Dawn is in shock and overwhelmed with tears. There was nothing  Chloe could do for them. Joyce is gone, the doctors assured Chloe that the tumor was gone. 

Hands turning into fists on the way out the door. " I'm going out, I can't be here…" Buffy holds Dawn as Buffy fights the urge for Chloe to stay.

Remembering Thanksgiving was drifting through Chloe's vision as Chloe made it to the cemetery.  Passing the gate, Chloe runs, passing all the tombstones as Chloe starts yelling and screaming,  slamming her fist down on each old tombstones as she runs by. All the birthday's,  Christmas, all gone.

"Nooooo! It's not fair,  none of this is fair!!!" Chloe's voice cracked as she screamed out like a cry out into  the cemetery, trying so hard to make sense of it all. Why they're mother?  Why her?

Spike heard screaming as Buffy was running beside Spike.  Both find Tombstones scattered, broken in pieces everywhere. 

Chloe's knuckles were bloody, had bits of stone digging in more into the bone of her hand. Her eyes were now yellow, as a fresh vampire sprung up and ran towards Chloe.  Watching this,  Spike and Buffy  were running towards The vampire attacking Chloe.  Chloe growled as the vampire jumped,  Chloe countered the surprise attack with fang drives into the Vampire's throat.  Chloe's eyes glared at Buffy then looked up and towards Spike.

Drank and Drank until The vampire turned to dust.

Fresh blood staining her face and lips as Spike slowly approaches Chloe, a dangerous growl was projected at Spike as he tried to get closer. 

"C'mon Love, I know you're in there. I was at the house when I heard about you're mum. I know you're hurting-" Chloe screams out, Spike stops to covers his ears.

"Where were you when I needed you? A month goes by without you. Buffy. You. Go. Home. And take care of Dawn. Something else is inside me. I don't want to hurt you or Dawn." Chloe's voice was hoarse and filled with pain and grief. 

" I know you're hurting,  Chloe.  But what would mom say?-" Buffy asked as Chloe's eyes  darkened with that one sentence. Chloe rushed at Buffy, pinning her down as Chloe grabbed her by the throat. 

Spike charges over and tries to get Chloe off Buffy but Chloe's new found strength throws him off her.

Buffy scratched at Chloe's hand as Chloe tightened her grip around her sister's throat while Buffy gasped to breathe.

"Mom's dead!! Because of a doctor who  knew this would happen and mom knew and didn't want us to know! She gone, now everything falls on me. Had you been home and not chasing after a fucking boy then she'd still be here! You left me to do everything,  left me to go play house!" Chloe screams in Buffy's face as she finally let's go.

Chloe's eyes could say a thousand words but all they say is Betrayal by her sister and by Spike.

Spike was gone for a month after the last encounter from Chloe, he felt his undead heart was about to burst if he saw Chloe's despair look in her eyes again.  No longer the blue eyes Spike remembers her having. Vampiric yellow eyes covered over her blue ones.

Chloe loved Joyce so much that this was the transformation point that the council had foreseen, Blood had been dripping down Chloe's chin. Blood stains on her shirt as her black leather jacket torn sleeve from the vampire attack. 

The love in her eyes were in the darkest part of her mind. Chloe had saved every single cent and bill she had from  being in L.A. Chloe threw her bank card at Buffy, it landed at Buffy's feet.

"Three million dollars,  are enough to cover mom's funeral and payment for the house plus food. But there's more than that in my account. Living with dad had it's perks I guess. I made a lot of money from the night club, body guarding." Buffy was crying again but not because of their mother but that Chloe had solved everything . Dawn could still go to school and Buffy to school.  But then Chloe would  be stuck raising Dawn by herself.  Not that Chloe minds but Chloe  had been right about everything .

Buffy had been selfish, that it took their mother's death to see it, if both of them had been there then Joyce would still be alive.  Neither of them were. Spike was partly to blame for Chloe's despair and pain, what if seeing him just once within that month got her through the week would have been so hard? Chloe is in love with him, just as much as he's just figuring it out for himself now . Chloe's eyes change back to the blue that Spike remembers seeing. 

But Chloe's thirst for blood as changed everything now.

" I won't  be home, tell Dawny that I love her and  until I get whatever this is under control I can't  stay there." Chloe stares at Buffy as Buffy  continues to cry silently. 

" I'll be at Mom's funeral, but I have to stay in the cemetery for now. I love you,  Buffy. " Chloe had pulled Buffy  into a hug. Buffy said nothing but only nodded and clutched her sister's shoulder, crying  into it.

"Chloe can stay at my crypt for the time being as all this vampire thirst business is done with." Spike said as Buffy just nodded as Chloe let her go. Buffy  picked up Chloe's bank card and shoved it into her pocket. 

Spike watched as Buffy walked out of the cemetery as Chloe stood silent.  Spike moved in beside her, Chloe's hand found his.

" I had to be hard on her, to wake her up from the bullshit that's happening.  I can feel something big coming."

Spike stood there as if time stopped as Chloe's features was grace with a small smile.  That same smile from the first night that they had encountered each other. 

Spike could see part of himself in her shoes but Drusilla's not here to kill the human heart, the part that made him weak.

A light squeeze from Chloe's hand woke him up from his trip down memory lane,  but Chloe is now in front of him. Nose to nose, her right hand on his left cheek,  her thumb tenderly skimming over his cheek.

"Life back then for you must have been horrible for you,  for you to think that you were weak.." Suddenly Spike's eyes widened with shock. 'Did she just read my bloody,  fucking mind?!' Spike's mind was now full of the most annoying questions his mind could think of.

Chloe dipped her head in between Spike's neck and shoulder. Warmth soon started to spread itself throughout his neck.

 

Chloe hummed a sigh of relief as she placed her hands on Spike's middle part of his back. " I have a soft spot for you, and no one else has that spot but you." Chloe had her lip up to his ear as if Spike could be blushing right now.

Spike grew a smile before he knew what would happen, it did.

Chloe kissed his collar bone that laid open in the collar of his black shirt.

Loving the feeling of this warmth,  Spike slowly draped his arms around Chloe's waist.

[princesssarcastia]

Cassandra Cillian: Hitter

this is titled “you don’t have to be a ghost here amongst the living” because I was going through a F+TM phase when I started writing it.  

remember like, a year and a half ago when I planned out a librarians-leverage fusion (and also a leverage-librarians fusion?) because I do!  And I finished the first bit.  

here’s 3k of not!fic about how Cassandra Cillian starts down the road to being a legend. 

              ________________________________________________________

my first concrete though when I started daydreaming about this was “oh my god Cassandra is the hitter”

no, really

I blame the apple of discord episode. her analysis of force needed to kick ass and take names and initiate a nuclear meltdown makes her perfect.  utterly ruthless, just hiding under a cutesy facade instead of Eliot’s dumb-hick one

with the tumor in her head ticking down, down, down to zero, her self-preservation is pretty low.  not necessarily in a death wish way, not yet.  but when she fights there’s no holding back, and no fear of what the other person can dole out.  what could they possibly do to her that she isn’t already doing to herself?  death looks like Cassandra Cillian staring in the mirror.

I’m willing to negotiate about anything else you find here but this.  in this house we stan Cassandra as the hitter in the leverage fusion au.

all this begs the question, of course: how does sweet cinnamon roll math geek Cassandra Cillian become a mean lean recently reformed killing machine?  and this is where our story begins.

Cassandra Cillian is a teenager who’s just been told she’ll never see the other side of 35.  there’s a tumor sitting in her brain sending her senses haywire, giving her visions that break down every aspect of the world around her to the smallest components.  math isn’t just like breathing, anymore: it’s her heartbeat.  even though its killing her, she can’t help but enjoy it a little. and it’s not just math.  everything around her is worth noticing, studying, learning.  the doctors are calling it hyper-vigilance, like her new fascination with her surroundings is just a way to channel all her rage and grief into something she can control; like since she can't cut her death out of her brain she’s going to make damn sure that nothing else gets to get near her without her consent.

they’re probably right, but she’s not going to admit that. all she knows is that the way her senses are linked to each other and her visions, there’s not a goddamn thing going on around her she doesn’t notice and catalogue immediately.

the next step, of course, is her shitty parents.  when they hear the news it’s like Cassandra’s already dead.  they take away her trophies, all those shiny pieces of proof that she was worth something, that mom and dad were proud of her sometimes, gone.   the pair of them loved their dreams for their daughter more than the person she was, and those dreams had just been crushed.  they pull her out of school, because her visions were “a disruption to the other students”

no one needs the crazy dying chick breaking down in the middle of calculus crying with a nosebleed, apparently.

maybe she could have lived with this.  maybe, in another life, another world, she could have buried all of her hopes and dreams deep inside herself and forgotten about it, until a man and a woman burst into the hospital looking to save her life (oh, the irony). this is not that world.

instead Cassandra gets furious.  

how dare they decide her whole life is over just because this tumor is going to cut it short.  how dare they take away everything they said made her special: her grades, her stem fairs, her college applications. no; no, they don’t get to do this.

so she runs away.  seventeen years old and in the wind.  fine.  if they won’t help her live her life, she’ll do it on her own.

she lands in Boston eventually.  crossing state lines helps confuse jurisdiction over her missing persons case, if her parents even decide to file a police report.  hiding in a larger city decreases her odds of being found, because cities are big places. easy to get lost in, to find a job in, and everyone seems to have a rule about asking questions.

where in Boston, you might ask, does Cassandra end up staying? where does she work?

well, funny story, actually

She ends up working at John McRory’s Place

god this is so long I'm sorry

it turns out mob bars don’t ask too many questions about why a just-18 young woman with no emergency contact needs a job.  Cassandra just gives them her bright, fake smile and says she's applying for classes at the local college and means to pay her own way.  they respect her secrets and her work ethic, and voila! a job busing tables and occasionally manning the bar when the owner has special customers to see to in the back room

her bright red hair and Irish heritage don’t hurt, either

it’s not an Ivy League school, nothing like what she imagined her future would be a year ago, but it’s something, which is more than she’d be getting at home.  all it took was a request for records from her old high school, some placement exams to confirm her genius level intellect, and the college was giving her a spot in their line of incoming freshmen.  

even with merit scholarships, tuition is a bitch to pay for.  it gets worse once she has another attack and needs some of her funds to go to the hospital bills, and the drugs the doctors there prescribe her.

Cassandra expects her boss to kick up a fuss at all that time missed, but he waves her off with a kind smile and says she can take all the time she needs to get back on her feet, because he’s never had someone so smart working for him before (she helps out with the accounts for the bar, sometimes)

one night after she starts back to work, it’s late, and the bar is empty of everyone except the Irish.  they’ve taken over the pub and the territory surrounding it.  Cassandra is cleaning up, closing down the unused tables and being as unnoticeable as she can

because let’s face it, she is not stupid.  by now, she knows exactly what’s going on here.  and maybe before it would have bothered her more, maybe her principles and respect for the rules would have had her out the door.  but she needs this job so she can continue her classes and pay rent on the space above the bar (which she’s getting at a discounted rate), and pay for her pills and the occasional overnight in the hospital.  besides, the owner is kind, even if his friends aren’t quite so nice, and his little girl is adorable.

anyway.  the Irish are here, letting off steam and worried, because their “accountant” just got put in jail.  everyone in the Family is prepared to play patsy, but losing an enforcer is nothing compared to losing the guy who keeps track of their money, their lifeblood.  those people aren't a dime a dozen, and pretty soon the Irish won’t have two nickels to rub together if they don't find someone new fast.

and cassandra just.  pauses.  just for a moment.  glances up to meet old McRory’s eyes behind the bar, just for a minute.  because.... she could do that.  Cassandra started balancing her father’s accounts for him when she was twelve, and they were hardly middle class: the Cillian’s had money in savings, but also tied up in investments and stock, and assets, too.  but that was nothing to her mind.  she could do it in her sleep near the end. hell, she’s been helping John with the bar’s funds for two months now, and not all of their revenue was clean , but she kept her mouth shut then and made the numbers work.

John wasn’t exactly a member of the Family, but he was a, a Friend of the Family.  so when she nods at him, I can do it, I need the money, just give me a chance, he casually picks up a glass to clean and mentions that she’s got a head for numbers, if they’re really that desperate

they are.

they take her to Callaghan, and he might be a little charmed by her bubbly smile and her red hair, but what really gets him is the way it takes her thirty minutes to decipher the codes the old accountant used for the ledgers, balance them out, shift funds between businesses and make sure to account for the statistical probability of amounts of cash-paying customers they can make up for car washes, bars, laundry mats, mattress firms, and movie theaters.  

that’s how she becomes the numbers guy for the Irish mob.  

Cassandra was never going to be Eliot, running away to the military with god in her heart and a flag on her shoulder and becoming disillusioned with doing dirty work for her country.  she needed to get slowly pulled into the criminal underworld.  I figured Irish mob was a good way as any to start, and what better way to pull her into that then math?

she spends some time doing that.  becoming more and more involved.  and she’s cute, like a little puppy, so the others like her.  enough to maybe give her a few self-defense lessons, because this is a dangerous life she’s leading now.

they go...okay??  taking care of her body is one of the first things the doctors recommended to her when she started getting sick, so she’s already in pretty good shape.  It’s just the basics at first; keep your thumb outside your fist, always go for the throat first—Cassandra calculates that three fingers-width above the hollow in a person’s throat would be the best place to strike, because then their voice box gets damaged, too.  

None of the lessons ever go much further than that, because these are brawlers who prefer to use a gun to send a message.  Sometimes the way they move when they show her something tickles the back of her brain, like there’s more to uncover there, but she can’t figure it out until the first time a brawl breaks out in the bar

Two of their patrons start throwing punches right in front of her and suddenly their movements are all angles: she catalogues their weight and height and how drunk they are and how much force they’re putting behind their swings and just…neatly steps out of the way, perfectly avoiding getting elbowed in the face. This…this has never happened before.  But, like everyone always says: there’s math in everything.  Even fighting—especially fighting.

When it looks like the two men are going to start breaking chairs, she hesitates for a moment, but…the knee is a hinge joint.  Thirty pounds of pressure pushing it the wrong way will snap it; twenty-five will seriously damage the attached ligament.  She blinks. Steps up to the closest one.

He’s on the floor before John can make the corner of the bar, screaming his head off, and the other guy is backing away with wide eyes, shocked sober by fear.  Cassandra pulls back, letting her right foot settle behind her and point away from them, and balances on the balls of her feet for a moment.

John gives her a startled look, because she’s never done something like that before. Someone calls the guy’s friends to pull him up off the floor and drive him to the hospital

She grabs a rag to wipe up the mess they made of the counter and thinks.  Because that felt…good.  Really good. Using her hallucinations to dosomething, to affect the real world, gave her a rush of adrenaline and satisfaction.  Not just theory, like in her classes, but real application of the way she sees the world.

Like any good academic, she does her research (in her mind, this is ostensibly still for self-defense—just in case something like that bar fight happens again.  She ignores the giddy little voice in her head talking about how much fun this will be).  Her upper-body strength isn’t great, so something that uses joints and core muscles would be best.  Her size is a disadvantage, too: she can’t afford to go to the ground grappling with someone twice her height and weight.  She’s not looking to compete in a tournament, and she can’t afford to buy any equipment.  The best technique for her will probably be Krav Maga.  (For now, the excited voice in her head whispers)

Her search turns up a little studio on the west side of town that teaches Krav Maga to women for self-defense.  Perfect. The instructor, Miriam Epstein, was a course instructor for the IDF for twenty years before she immigrated to America and got certification from the KMAA.

Cassandra goes to observe a class before she signs up, and the moment she steps through the door her brain is set alight:  everything she sees goes a deep, brilliant hue of scarlet, finding the angles of their feet and arms and their centers of mass based on weight and height; herfoot is seven centimeters too far to the right and that strike would give hermore leverage if she moved three centimeters up from the elbow.  She has to stop for a moment to breathe and process all the information her brain displays in front of her.

That becomes the hardest part: not the constant exhaustion, or the bruises everywhere, or her aching muscles, but the overwhelming flow of information about body movements and the correct place to strike.

She is tired, though; working at the bar takes time, if not mental energy, and her classes take both. Add in balancing the ledgers for Callaghan and now these lessons twice a week, and the exercise she does on her own to keep up, and her schedule is completely full.

The Irish start letting Cassandra layer their funds, obscuring where the extra profits in their businesses came from.  Turns out she’s pretty good at that, too, though it’s not like it’s hard given they own a bank in Boston.  Loans are a great way to integrate funds, and their interest rates are always better than the next three competitors.  She tries not to think about the other differences, how the people she’s working for go to collect that debt.  

Construction is another great way to hide their funds, and from what Cassandra can tell from watching the stock market (which is considerably more than most people) real estate is on the rise.  When she carefully suggests that Callaghan try investing more money in that area, he actually listens to her.  Puts her theories and calculations into practice because he trusts her to be right.  

It feels almost as good as tearing that man’s quadriceps tendon.  Practical applications, she muses.  Sometimes she lets herself wonder how it would feel to take her theories all the way down the rabbit hole

Meanwhile, it only takes her four months to move to P2 in Krav Maga.  The average time spent practicing moves for each level is six months; she’s learning 33% faster than that.  Her muscles are adjusting better than she expected, and her skin stops bruising as easily, but she suspects she’ll always tire quicker than everyone else.

Miriam pulls her aside after class one day and asks why she hesitates so much when they practice moves on each other.  Nothing but the lightest sparring, of course, and nothing dangerous.  But Cassandra can’t turn her brain off, and now that she’s starting to learn the more painful moves, she can’t help but see them every time she stands across from someone.  (thirteen pounds of pressure at 125 degrees from her back to hyperextend her arm; plant your foot six inches from her spine and pull to dislocate her shoulder; 3,300 newtons of pressure delivered at 1.5 seconds would have a 25% chance of cracking her rib and sending a fragment into her lungs.  All this would take less than thirty seconds)

None of this makes it past her lips, but she thinks maybe Miriam can see it in her eyes.  We’re moving on to fighting armed opponents next week, she says, maybe you’ll feel more comfortable with that than basic strikes and take-downs.  She taps the side of her head in farewell and Cassandra tastes copper and sees the spot on her temple where the cranial bone is weakest; a quick jab with the second knuckle of her index finger extended could put her on the ground.  Shaking her head, she dislodges the scarlet diagram and shoves down the curious voice of, but you could do it, you could actually do it.

In another four months she’s at P3, and Callahan is actively seeking out her opinion about investments because she’s been right every time.  

Another four months and she’s almost 20 years old.  She’s almost gotten her degree in mathematics, somehow, even though she can’t qualify as a full-time student.  Part of it is the half-ton of college credit built up during high school, part of it is testing out of a third of their program when they wanted to place her, and the rest is just her ruthless pursuit of academia.  

Her attacks don’t become less frequent, or less powerful, but Cassandra still feels better.  Maybe it’s because she’s actually living her life on her own, even if it isn’t what she thought it would be; even if what she’s doing is wrong.  Because not only is she learning more, but she’s usingit.  She’s using her brain to dothings and affecting the world around her instead of just living in it. No matter what happens, no matter how much she changes in the years to come, she’ll treasure that.

Enter Lamia, stage right

See, Dulaque is Damian Moroe; boogeyman and semi-god of the criminal underworld.  You can’t spend more than six months involved with dirty money without hearing about the man who bankrolls terrorists and buys countries to launder his money through. He’s a legend, untouchable.

Almost as infamous is his right-hand woman, Lamia.  A trained killer with no hint of a past before she showed up as Dulaque’s chief…well, he’s too classy for the word enforcer, and so is she.  But if they were anyone else, that’s what she’d be. As it is, just a whisper of her name will send some grown men running to give up whatever she wants in exchange for safe passage.

And see, Dulaque has caught wind of the irish mob’s sudden financial success and wants to know how it’s happening.  Take advantage of it if it’s luck, invest in it if it’s skill, and perhaps recruit whatever or whoever is responsible into his own enterprise.

Lamia doesn’t always like to trade on her name, though, so she comes to Boston quietly, and investigates how the Irish are doing so well—not just in the American markets anymore

(Callahan called his friends in the old country and told them about the redheaded accountant with a genius-level intellect who could analyze the stock markets to a T; suddenly Cassandra had a whole lot more to balance than a few local business and investments. Suddenly, she’s the lodestone to an entire financial criminal empire that’s only growing.  And that little voice in the back of her head sighs in contentment as her reach extends, her area of effect getting bigger and bigger. Whenever the air in front of her lights up blue and smells like oranges, she smiles a little and hums, because this feels right.  Follow the money and see where it leads, all the way down)

It doesn’t take long before she finds John McRory’s place, where a petite little redhead still waits tables and occasionally mans the bar; locks up more often than not, now, because her place is right upstairs.

There are a couple ways she can do this.  She can go from the top down, approach Callahan and demand to speak with the girl. She can have her brought directly to Dulaque, where he can make an intimidatingly persuasive offer the girl won’t be able to refuse.  Or…

Her eyes are rather striking, in the warm light of the bar.  

After Lamia finds Cassandra Cillian, she spends another week watching her, and the girl is interesting.  Balancing all that money, layering and incorporating it in three different countries and seven different cities, would be too much for any one person.  And yet she seems to slot all that work neatly into her afternoon, after her classes at the local college and before her shift starts at the bar.  What really draws her attention, though, is that little studio she visits twice a week for “defense lessons.”  

Krav Maga is brutal and straightforward, a beautiful Frankenstein of a martial art that takes the easiest parts of a handful of the others and sharpens them into something dangerous.

Lamia sits in on one of the sessions.  The instructor she immediately pegs as former military, that’s a very distinctive stance, but the way the girl holds herself…now that, that’s something to watch out for.

P3 after less than a year of training is impressive, but not unusual enough to matter.  What matters is the way the girl locks her eyes onto the instructor while she demonstrates a move, all cold and calculating; the way her gaze flickers over her sparing partner’s feet, hands, arms, shoulders, hips, like she’s finding every angle and weak spot there is to be found.  

Finally, Lamia smiles as she hesitates just before moving into action.  Oh, that look.  Not fear of her opponent; fear of herself.  And buried beneath it, a bone-deep desire and curiosity. Ah, she thinks.  Gotcha.

Cassandra is smarter than probably everyone Lamia has ever met, so there won’t be any straight-up conning her into what she wants, and that visit to the hospital had been unfortunately enlightening, because threatening probably won’t work either.

Dulaque, she knows, will want the girl’s head for numbers.  And he’ll get it.  But perhaps if Lamia asks very nicely, he’ll let her keep Cassandra to herself for a little bit and show her what she could really be capable of.  A little push, someone to tell her it’s okay to crave that violence, and Lamia can have danger thrumming under her skin right next to those numbers in her brain.

She waits until the class is over, nods to the instructor, and walks up to her.  Cassandra squints at her face for a moment, but it isn’t long before a bright and surprisingly genuine smile breaks out.  “Hi!  You know, you look really familiar.”

Lamia smiles; it’s more of a smirk, really.  Lying is a bad idea, so, “I think you work at that bar I was in the other night.  What was it…”

“McRory’s?”

“Oh, yes, that’s it.  I was kind of surprised to see you here, actually, you don’t really seem the type.”

“Well, knowing how to defend yourself is important!”  God, everything about her is bright and bubbly, isn’t it?  It begs the question how much of that is real, and how much is a front, a persona.

“Anyway.”  Lamia holds out her hand.  “Lamia.”

“Cassandra.”  The girl takes it, and she makes sure to grip her hand warmly.

“Cassandra,” she rubs her thumb over the back of her hand and curls her lips.  When she leans forward, Cassandra does, too.  Neither of them lets go.  “Have a drink with me.” Not a question, not a demand.

Her eyes focus intently on Lamia’s, something like real happiness lingering around her mouth. “Yes.”

And so it goes.

[ofblazefire]

PSA || Need help!

{Hello everyone! As some of you know, I’m in some real need for help. I am sorry about this being a long ass post but I will do my best to shorten it with read more, but please please read this if you can help donate, or even reblog this. I am in serious need of help. To make it simple here, I am in need of money to get out of a horrible living situation. I typed up what it’s like in my current living situation but it’s hard for me to type it all because that’s how awful it is and I want to forget it as soon as possible. I’m already even crying about it. But basically, I need help with money so I can get out of here and go to my new home and get the help I absolutely need! The info for donating is at the end of the post. Please help!}

Edit: I should’ve done this before but since I haven’t got donations yet I took out the email for my paypal and replaced it with a paypal pool! It shows how much I exactly need and how much I got so far. Please help!!!}

You see, I am currently in a terrible living situation. I’m 24, can’t drive (due to not having a driver’s license due to my family never teaching me to drive and getting mad at me about it later), flat broke (my back account only has ONE DOLLAR in it so that pretty much explains how broke I am), suffering from anxiety and depression that I need HELP for but cannot afford or even get a ride to any doctors that can help me, etc. I am stuck living with my father, earlier this year I was my mom’s caretaker (I was in between jobs and decided to care for her while she suffered from a heart attack and heart failure) but in April she died and it took it’s toll on me. My mother and I were somewhat close (had bad moments the most but she was the only one who shows love to me) and my depression hit me hard, to even explain how bad it was.... I would’ve killed myself but I tried to do that last year in October and scared myself shitless by it, never wanting to harm myself again. Instead I bottled my feelings which only made it worse. Keep in mind, I had two lovely cats that were helping me through my grief but a week after my mom died, my dad put my oldest cat down (we were planning to do this anyways due to her having bad tumors) and he took my pride and joy cat ( a ragdoll mix that I adored more than life itself) and gave her to a humane society. I felt absolutely broken after that. After that, life was getting worse for me. My dad is a cheap asshole who gets mad if I say I need something, especially if it means going to a doctor for some medical issues or anything. Basically, I gave up my medications. No medication for my mental illnesses and I felt ashamed if I need to go to a doctor for anything (had to go to a doctor three times for infections and my dad was pissed about the bills for it). So as you can see, I had to deal with my anxiety, depression, everything else on my own because I feared I would be yelled at or even threatened if I needed something, even if its personal hygiene products. You may be asking “Why do you fear being yelled at about such things?” Well, my dad has anger issues, to which he believes he doesn’t need anger management. A good example for this is a couple of days ago he was getting angry at his phone and went onto his laptop, yelling and cursing at it because it was slow and needed an update from windows. He was hitting the laptop and yelling so angerly that I was starting to fear for my life. When he gets mad, he gets insanely mad. He is the kind of person that if someone so much as looks at him wrong he could snap and maybe kill them. That’s why I fear for my life here. Ever since he got a girlfriend his actions have gotten worse, as if the girlfriend is encouraging him to do such things. I’ve been verbally and mentally abused by both my mother (when she was alive) and my father before, and now my father is doing it worse to me. Living with both my father and his girlfriend is getting much worse, they are doing things that show they don’t want me here. Let’s just say they are making me depression and anxiety much worse to the point that I may become suicidal again when I desperately never want to harm myself again. It may not seem like the whole living situation isn’t that bad but I have suffered from mental and verbal abuse pretty much since I was a kid. Now that I’m an adult who is still suffering from the abuse and can’t get away from it on my own I can barely function as an adult. My only way out is to run away and I need help for this, especially since my destination is another state. I need help, seriously. I feel like if I cannot leave here, I fear my dad will harm me or even kill me if I accidentally piss him off or I will give in and take my own life from suffering so much. I fear for my life, helping me get out of here will be a life saver and I will be so thankful to you all.

For those who read about my situation, thank you. Here I will let you all know about what help I need.  As most of you read, I am jobless, broke, and cannot drive. So for this I need money for ubers, buses, maybe even a train if I can find one. Also, the money goal I have will cover over suitcases and a throw away phone I will need. I do not have suitcases anymore, a mouse destroyed my old one and as for the phone, my current phone I will be leaving behind because it’s not in my name and I don’t want to “steal” it, especially if my dad finds out I’m gone and cancels the cell phone.

The goal I have in mind is $700. Again, this covers the suitcase, throw away/prepaid phone, ubers, buses, trains, in case something goes wrong, and of course after arriving at my destination I can get things like soap, shampoo, and other things I may need. I need as much help as I can get and again I will be so thankful to you guys helping out by donating and/or reblogging this to show to others who can donate. All the money I swear will only be used to get me out of my hellhole of a living situation. Any extra money that I have from this after moving will be saved just in case something goes wrong until I can get a job.

Again, the goal is $700 dollars and here is the link to the paypal pool!

https://paypal.me/pools/c/89KZL9HciB

Please, help. I never asked others for help like this becasue I never thought I was good enough or thought my situation wasn’t that bad enough thanks to my depression but I have nowhere else to turn! If you need anymore information then please message me! My inbox and IMs are always open! I just updated this post with the paypal pool!

[dailyaudiobible]

07/11/2018 DAB Transcript

1 Chronicles 11:1-12:18, Acts 28:1-31, Psalms 9:1-12, Proverbs 19:1-3

Today is the 11th day of July. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It's a pleasure and an honor to be here with you today and every day. And I'm excited to see where the Bible leads us today as we take the next step. We're reading from the New International Version this week. 1 Chronicles 11:1- 12:18 today.

Commentary:

Okay. So, Paul's shipwreck turned out to be on the island of Malta. And they were way off course. Had they missed the island of Malta and survived, had the ship held together, then the next place that they could have hit would have been on the continent of Africa. So, this shipwreck’s on the island of Malta about seven hundred miles south of Rome. And to this very day, Paul is revered as the person who brought the good news to the island of Malta.

I remember back, I don't remember how many years but many years ago, we had a brother on the island of Malta who was a Daily Audio Bible listener every day, would call in often, sent me a book on Malta. Fascinating, fascinating, beautiful place. We're seeing a fascinating, really interesting thing happen in Paul's ministry because when he first began to travel around and he did a lot of traveling and establishing churches everywhere, he was free. And then he went into captivity. He was arrested and under guard. And he's able to speak freely the gospel to very, very powerful and influential people from that time forward. And then we have the serendipity of a shipwreck that brings the gospel to a completely different place than Paul had ever been before. And we just read the story, right? Paul's gathering firewood, they're building a fire to dry off, warm up, get out of the ocean. And this snake bites Paul and he throws it into the fire and everybody's expecting him to die because this is a ship with prisoners on board. But when Paul doesn't die then they think he's a god. This has happened to Paul before. And it's amazing what the anointing, the presence of God, in any situation will do to change hearts and minds, which is what we saw happening on Malta. And then they sailed away. And Paul eventually made it to Rome. And we'll pick up that story as we continue forward.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for the examples of people like the Apostle Paul that demonstrate for us what it looks like to be completely abandoned to the mission that You've called them to. Father, we know that You have purpose for each one of us. It may look very different and does look very different than that of the Apostle Paul, but the posture of heart that is demonstrated is something that we all seek. So, come Holy Spirit. Let us spend this day in awe of You, knowing we are in Your hands and that You are aware of us and that You are leading and guiding us by the power of Your Holy Spirit. And that You will send us into situations that You need us to go into. Come, Holy Spirit, we pray. In Jesus name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, it's where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be sure to check it out.

Check out the resources that are available in the shop. Check out the prayer wall. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Stay connected on social media and find out where all of those different social media channels are for Daily Audio Bible in the community section of the website.

And if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link that just lives on the homepage. And I am profoundly grateful for those of you who have clicked that link and allowed the global campfire that we share each and every day to continue to burn on. If you're using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is P.O Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee, 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

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

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family. To Be A Blessing in California. I’m requesting prayer for my work situation. It’s changing significantly and there are a lot of details that are not known. I ask that you would pray for wisdom, knowledge, and understanding on my behalf as well as working with people that I don’t know in a situation where I’ve been working for quite some time. I’ll just be moving into a new department. Also asking that you would pray for me as I am learning how to live life now that I have lost my mother. I was living with her and life is changed and now I have to figure out, have God tell me what I need to do in terms of making a new life without her. My brain is foggy, I’m scattered, I’m just in the midst of great sorrow and grief. And, so, this change with work in addition to the change without having mom is pretty big. I’m praying for jubilant perseverance. I’m praying for the woman whose son was just killed and her other son is facing cancer. I pray for all of you as it comes through. Thank you for praying for me. God bless you. Bye-bye.

My name is Scott. I’m calling from North Carolina. I’m calling for prayer for my son Joel. We’ve had a very difficult season. I lost a 25-year-old son in a car wreck and shortly after that I lost my father to dementia. Very shortly after that my son Joel had emergency brain surgery because of a tumor wrapped around his brain stem. It was his eighth surgery. Unfortunately, things have not gone well. They’ve not given him very long to live. We are trying radical new surgeries right now. Radiation is probably going to be the only option. Joel is going to be 17 on his next birthday in August and I’m just asking for you to pray for the life of my son.

Hello, this is Beautiful Soul from North Carolina. I called earlier and the call got disconnected but I wanted to say that I call myself Beautiful Soul because in 1 Peter 3 verse 3 and 4 where he speaks about not living the outward appearance but God is in love with your soul. I called in because I wanted to give a little tip to some of you who are having a hard time concentrating on the Scriptures as Brian reads through the genealogy. Sometimes that gets to be a little bit tedious when you’re naming all of the descendant’s and you want to kind of just skip over it, but I found that if I repeat every name that Brian repeats it becomes fun. And because their unusual names sometimes if you try to read them on your own in Scripture, they’re hard to translate or hard to pronounce. But it’s fun when Brian pronounces the names and you say the names afterwards. And before you know it you’ve gone through that entire Scripture as he’s read through it. And, so, you know, I thought I would give that little tidbit to those who are struggling through it to not skip through it, that if you just repeat the names after Brian it becomes fun and it ends up being something that will stay on your Spirit. And I want to continue to pray for my Daily Audio Bible family and Brian. And God’s going to keep on blessing us. And have a fantastic summer. God bless.

Hi, this is Valerie calling from south of Atlanta. I just heard Mary from the UK call about her friends son, the one that just passed away and the one that is recently diagnosed with cancer and was just giving a few leaks to live. Mary, my heart breaks for this family. I have a 25-year-old son. I also have a 27-year-old son. And I just could not imagine what this mother must be going through at this moment. So, please know that I am praying for her. I am praying that she feels the comfort of God surrounding her. I pray that she has a strong support system to get her through this. Thank you so much for reaching out to us and telling us about her story so that we can surround her in prayer and uplift her and her family during this difficult time. I can only imagine the questions she must have and the sense of hopelessness and I just pray that she is able to draw on her faith and that she is able to rely on the Lord and that He’s sovereign and that He has everything in control and there’s a reason, even when we can’t understand it. But please just know Mary, that my heart hurts for her and I am praying for her and please keep us updated on any updates on her son that is fighting cancer and how we can continue to pray. And also I just want to also uplift Vince. I’m glad that he’s doing so well. And today is the 9th. And, so, tomorrow is when they’re turning on the devices and I will be praying for him and that everything goes well. Thank you guys. You all have a blessed day. Bye-bye.

[reeseoqz]

000

~ Mother watched it die every year. For at a time when the leaves twirl as dance, or those in sphere with that purple static reflectors: she may run herself along of what it was but gone away, and it was only distance till common then; say as Jupiter. 

All developed from the dot but change anyway and thru the seems; with glimpse of when the frozen lake, to now the sighted first birds among the echo of on the walls to out, and the fires less as we embrace invited horizon as the dreams return. Yet, I could not convey what spark did change in ~____until there were some friends of mine: the hallucination of bears…

Forward to revive: to think of without, gl111x00Fearoming\oeoe: would the spirits say we are settled always guided and flourish as? Even when about: it would reveal time*** Mother has turquoise while home wondered on until along the nature’s night of grace and wonder.

  If the morning cried, there I would be. My stance glowing and learn myth or two, but what of the dearest natural changes? Losing groups of the noble to vastness at those times, or withered poison left gifted or snuck about***

  Now the light thru the cloud’s noticed at noon and all til moon; maybe to the waterfall, o: life presented and fond in mind. The magenta some other lapse of sky, now shimmer rotation ! ! ! ! around the land. 

The wise healers to all, and the flourished to be of what became of me so different and quiet—they, the sighted almost time or in the morning fire, became all of what I ever,...memories, and in my heart: creaoievus

When the warmth congruent, I wanted to ask her about it—my own little change of change leading me up the hill and adjacent to the 1;^ across and thru to mother’s circle space in the distance, and the derived glee will renew her and our days divine.

———-

When the “”((( gathered us all: there was my brother—an enthusiast of season, stay till noble, then groups travel beyond what all is to what 0. He knew there was change and up speed*** he chooses, and all of his purpose and freedom would keep our people hopeful even when it is home to return from what they call an-overflow: ‘city’, to see for themselves a sim;,,,with grateful for (;)*** or #revived.

The bears looked frightful despite awaken. How could I ease a circle?*** The woods was where it prayed and blossomed—longed for (;) and when a journal with a branded eagle was gifted to my brother. He kissed mother goodbye and disappeared beyond the hills***.

Myself where the birds sing, moving with the light.*** I wanted to remember where they hinted about, and why the bears were easing fear thru my body and mind. The cycles but myself never was aware of anything besides circles, on so on. I could have felt then, but dizzy…

<><><><><><>><><>><>>><<<<><>///////////]]]]]\\\\\\\\\\\

h!z4oh whisper echo—vines, moody swirling whistle become. So the bears….

Hum e\ri\\ridge, still oh my, rush ‘em away you bloody shadows. j@!e02, such as that—people rebelled and rumored tumor or simply losing related, that is where. Neighbor when duration amplify^#=Jupiter then the bloom. Eh, say as so, for honest, earwax heavy that is cube. EDITronate *nothing but it was, but how if the A#3lllhm maybe to home now, ek soul drum crickets. @m<-Waving pink haired bear. 

———^[[[[[[[[[[[[[?`````————————————-

Engage dino7 but fireflies or busy \ glitter 4&&;_ 

Erased along with berry atmosphere too…/[___~ 

<<>> until it, ugh&deer and rabbits…distanced worry.

Within; rewind =</freely see what is around it, the very thing blurry. L00kme me see the spiral cloak of morphing bloom ugh, ^2 grass near church up west hill miles on, abandon ^^^way; frenzy so re- and why have the tribes fled? ;\#;’

———————-

Color spectrum, mortal us a fools. Embrace oh the ladder,* * * would it snow?—never mind any guess,. Haunted hehq, said tweedled0=; water#&7\+ real7y own map replied, Thru and of the woods, step so lounge window to circle , re,0t;z shun   Fe-@x+j^q2e.

: 00000_&eagh^F>L>E>M>…………

up a tree/Flood@waterfall rotator7^ \^ appointment light spotted. 

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

cry any cry til day purple moon] 3@;\\

```                     &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^creek^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^33^3370333abandon for sister 33333737373777777700000<`0~_______00000static atmosphere, c—- soon to loom…..00000 ;;; the messages of mother.

Storm, echos and shadows. From a stranger at camp, name unknown, found on a chair in my tent, opium, spoke of but missed and matched, as the*** and when nature soul knew it would not be very long, 0h%/\convinced scissor that June when the change saw I saw for one or [^.

———

When I got to the open circle, up to the treehouse; old notebooks; drawings. Hallway but to where?… sincere, hm0 \ and]]\0; if to lightning near the stone manifest, awhile see—where it always is but view static to ground and around; stunned twirling ribbons of pink light.***************

ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzZ

Grey clothed men, demon cursing***, oh loud friction bells, and ill_ z doc stumble thru blur, of to onward see as we, fire and madness; who would? Human lasers, my family, our home… 

Thru and thru to smoke and ash. 1//e@L<. Once without mirror then hehyugh, jettison slaughter,,,,The stranger boy being thrown to the ground.

Clmderophinzym—ti;hsorthm0 or but really ladybugs, the butterflies, my friends.\\ maze mist and demon skeletons, 7llll3\=

_SPOTLi#h+uh Tachx9\; chief***. Jasmine rhuteahalL7. Huhph4fkg;&^ fire screams but not at all like this moment oh, elders bowed, tremble and gave away freedom; and yet the spirits***; what of this grief Jupiter? 

Wire supply storage, prisoners; away the doc. Oh we gone along. z3e7e7=lightning scan woods, journey vomit exhausted in the wasteland— mourning, who again…cannot.

———————

7 ill fair fainting oh— spirits you see…but suddenly: awG, the spoken of regarding xhxhxxhhxxhxhxh, but never believed,.

“Hello.’***

toxic in storm this night, hmm So so so, darkening sky. Birdhouse pirate cannot navy, women say to shelter; this different poison blinded////. MJ0#stair if they, where is home? Dear heavens…, 

There are soldiers near path with torches. 

H1; and swords, violence and yet I was near it, just yesterday; a fold of common.

Who was wizardry, oh pinch surreal?! Chaos. e.s.t.. Where are we going?! Eye_corruption over home and yelling for retrace,. It they search; I saw the ribbon drop 0 in heart. Some stayed and knitted sharpen; circle but far and forever these. So my mother’s journals and 3/4c/keys to on move till flying lanterns. Fabric ash, awG sharp teeth %/\,;+3k’’——______——-_______————-_________————____ …tired in the void. Oh, some chemical ++ asleep***

Story harps and Heather00 proclaimed ghosts and awG’s cavalry. Tormenting, yet my papers and letters from my sister, point wheel-mech, and tobacco when.*** All till***, traveler boy with ‘swim on. ^^^ ^’awG gloom: are we to be hidden away? Silk uahhz. 

Crowds; portion appear sits beside me. It is not the poison, the more and more stranded, but future thru the hills and without song, and only us captured; frightened.

000

“Devils and humans do similar…”, boy Fhyejg. 

I awoke to an orange circle around the moon. He was tired, whittling, and seemingly over a spell. My eyes, this coma,…artificial, blinking lights,…ocean,…aliens. The awGs, people to skeletons with darkness and fire—they were yelling, dragging dead or alive bodies away from the water. 

We were sitting outside of a tent and my body ached, and there were scars on all over him. Fhyejg was speaking an eerie mantra and shivering then he laid up to the voided sky. Oh, mother—the comets. 

“Mechanics,…technology.” 

“Why do the shadows have red eyes?”

…………..

The camp moved away from the sea and into the metal land—clouds covered, vomit…

If a human in sight for put as not x but ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~, awG frenzy brainwash, electricity in ears—lacking, impaired and the junkyard was indeed also once lived. 

In the distance, giant towers—the awG’s halted and the people, around twenty-five of us, were horrified, starving, poisoned, and confused. Of hidden in darkly cloak and cold—mother, mother these demons,…their rain is fusion-anger and lies. 

There were whisper sounds outside of my tent: hundreds of green spiders pausing and curious oh, follow thru gaps of structure, alone and the soldiers out of sight. Lanterns on the trees, large towers in the distant east—dim and cold; soft and eerie violins farther in path with trees closing over sky view. Nervous stomach, seizure fidget—fear and stumble with the spiders panning out now: a shut door with an imprinted animal,…….

“I would rather die!”, yelling and a thrown chair inside. I see Fhyejg huffing out the door without a glance, again muttering. Eight men were around the table in a bland grey room: name Z0 pointed to closest seating while I froze and my body shook while the eyes were fixated with the exception of a neon ostrich seated at the far end flipping thru papers, then hinting to Z0 to begin speaking. 

-

“We are here to help you, Ms. A4.”, he walked over to a table where a chest was opened. Z0 took out a vile of something pink, a mirror, and a butterfly that flew and then rested in the middle of the table. He brought the vile to me and it steamed with toxin mist around my body, ill ;_`=//\\\\…the man at the end snapped his fingers and I saw a flash.

“You have been poisoned on several occasions by your own.”

“Tell us where it is and the whereabouts of your mother by looking into this mirror.” The mirror was made of water. Oh, I saw home. Circle of jumble fierce words of sorcery….meadow, joy—thru the glowing and exuberant community: nobody but me while the image fades to the forest, where it was always meant to be, yet I was to reveal and convey what only is to be a myth protected by my sleeping mother. The warmth in body Y_33[[[[__________i

Uhm, “F-fuzz______

——————

)000

  HM3907hek,

Dente titan craze, t;8feeseawhe? 

0uhL me friendz, fold awG treacherous poison, alright. 

pi3ehnze 

PF; she’s the days as zapping type “ ()” )0ov540001

iuvcoohr oh flicker 000 building golden towers……..

Ch3uh!e0; witchy wall oh dear L(((

Submarine cigar and blame oh what a zap FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Lewis thru Luke 444_—— metal moth. Dim ah today tomorrow eager collapse, crying at McVm4;&

fin

\rees eoqz 

[sadcatbug]

Song for Soul: Young Blood by The Districts

I wanted to share this song by The Districts because music is such an important part of my life. Sometime mid-February, I started a playlist on Spotify called “Blue Rage” - feel free to give it a listen. It’s a collection of songs that do a really good job of summing up how I feel and how I like to listen to music. I can become absorbed in all of my anger and frustration and sadness and just get lost in the sound. Each song has its own mood and this alt-rock playlist as a collective has just been my mood for the past couple months.

And as a dancer, I am very in tune to the way a song sounds. But the words in these songs have been the most powerful words I’ve heard in a while. The lyrics can be so acutely sympathetic or just total ambiguous expression. And I just wanted to share some of the lyrics from this song because this is the song that I felt the first shreds of understanding about my situation.

“Love is patient and wise, but it's not always kind when you learn how it leaves So nimble and lithe, through your fingers like sand It never lingers I'm grating my hands”

It really was this overwhelmingly sudden experience. When mom began going through menopause, the doctor’s noticed a mass that was concerning and so she had a hysterectomy. And the first round of chemo that followed was always spoken of as a preventative countermeasure. She always made sure that I wouldn’t worry because I was in Fayetteville away from everything. I never thought it was something to worry about. We were so sure it was nothing that I didn’t tell my friends. I didn’t talk about. I didn’t even think about it.

And it was equally naive as it was terrifying. My mom always told me she would have to be wheeled out of the building before she would retire. She worked so hard and was so active and healthy I never thought to worry that this would slow her down. She was my mom. She was invincible. And she rang that bell.

And then we were told that it didn’t work. That the whole time cancer had been growing and the doctor’s have no idea what to do. And so she went to MD Anderson in Texas- the best freaking cancer hospital in the country. And they still didn’t know what was going on. And it’s hard to remember all of the details because she would just call me and update. Or text me. And so I was so removed from the situation it was hard to understand how scary it was for her. Because she was so brave to me.

And then  "We got our first bit of good news today! The CA125 tumor marker test that was done in June was 78 and the one done last week after the first cycle of the new drugs was 14.5!!! The Dr. is excited, I am excited, so very hopeful and thankful and doing a happy dance. Hoping to work that number down to zero!💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻" Is the text I received today from my amazing mom. Doing a happy dance and flipping the bird to cancer today.” That was on September 12th, 2017.

My patience is waning, I'm growing tired In the scorn of the weather, my fickle heart fades And I can't make the grade But I'll graduate gently without stories worth singing, of my own Just need a little romance I just need a little time Just need a little young love, to ease my mind

This is perhaps the most succinct verse I have ever heard. After the good news, I began to feel comfortable with mom’s condition, began to have hope again. My life was normal again and I was excited for the future, not scared of it. I went to the International Sculpture Conference in Kansas City and networked with some inspiring people and finally felt fuel for the fire to pursue my two degrees. I finally felt like I wasn’t crazy- that people like me are out there and I can really make a career for myself combining engineering and art. And I went to Austin City Limits with my friends and saw the Gorillaz- a favorite band of mine. And I saw Arcade Fire front row with a best friend in Kansas City. And I celebrated Halloween in Dallas seeing Ghostland Observatory with my friends. And then I went to Chicago with my best friend to celebrate our 21st birthdays. Our birthdays are a day apart and during finals week, so we decided to celebrate afterwards with a week of celebration in one of my favorite cities.

And while we were in Chicago, we were staying in this beautiful, historic house where we played pool one night and just had a lowkey evening. Then his mom called in the middle of our game and he took a few minutes to talk to her. I realized then that I hadn’t shared much of my time in Chicago with my mom yet- hadn’t called or texted except to say we made it safely. He told me that I should call my mom more. I said he was right. It would be my New Year’s Resolution to try and call my mom whenever I had free time. On my way home from class, while I’m eating dinner, when I’m taking a study break. That it wasn’t that I didn’t love talking to my mom, I just got busy.

And I want to make it very clear that that was my relationship with my mother. She was so supportive of me doing my thing and traveling and experiencing what life had to offer. I mean, when she was young she moved to LA. And what sucks is that I want to write more about how that unfolded for her but I don’t know all the details. If I had three things I could ask my mom today, one of them would be to know the entire chronicle of her life... there’s so much I still want to know.

And then I came home to the entire family at my house. They broke the news. I had what I didn’t know would be my last words. I was a total fucking wreck. I suddenly felt so bad for gallivanting across the country for the past year. I suddenly felt so sick at my stomach I’m surprised I didn’t vomit. That was the most jarring moment of my short life so far. Just over Thanksgiving she was prepping the mountains of delicious food she makes every year. The pain and the drugs and the chemo made her tired, but she was up. She was alert. She was my mom.

My ears ring, teeth grind, think I'd be able better off blind, she said So that I won't picture it I've yet to grow patient, I've yet to grow kind Love was patient and wise, but didn't stay through time Preoccupied we were, now my smile's breaking But if I learn to relax all my muscles in vain Float on the waves see if your heart still remains, it's as wide as the ocean The birds in the sky

And we had one last Christmas together. And she was gone the morning of December 26th, 2017. 

And she had only just found out that there was nothing more to do -  That she should go into hospice care -  On the day I told my friend it would be my Resolution to call her more -  Four days before she was gone. 

It's a long way down from the top to the bottom It's a long way back to a high from where I am

I live my life in the upside down. Everything is the same but shifted. I have lost a limb and I’ve been bleeding out. I’ve been losing sleep and health and hope. I have been spewing grief and insecurity. I patched myself up with apathy and discipline but I want to be healing.

It’s in my nature to just push forward. To just keep working. That life isn’t fair but it is what you make it. And I’ve learned that from the best. From someone who made their life what they wanted- who worked harder than anyone- who loved and laughed with all her heart.

And so I want to talk about this stuff now. I want to get some stuff off my chest now. Because with as much physical work I am trying to do everyday, I need to. I am dedicated to my studies. I am determined to keep a healthy diet and workout regularly. I am motivated to see my friends. I am in love with my significant other. 

I’m on the long way back to being me.

[jamalam]

Roses

@bunny-yams because my angst king seems like he hasn’t had nearly enough angst, and i am more than willing to supply what he so desperately needs

It had always seemed strange to Alexander that Thomas loved roses.

He could always imagine his boyfriend with violets sewn into the thick, dark curls that framed his face so perfectly, like petals around the center of a sunflower. When the sunlight, golden and pure, settled down on his face as he slept, the beams of light refracted off until he was just as golden, seemingly soaked in honey and sunlight until he glimmered and shone as brightly as the stars in his eyes.

Dark eyes that would flutter open slowly as he awoke from his slumber, half-grinning sleepily at Alexander. He’d wrap his arms around Alexander like vines of ivy growing on the crumbling stone walls that he’d built up over the years to protect himself from being hurt by opening his heart to the love that now came so naturally to them. Each leaf, with its twirling stems intertwining with Alex’s fingers as Thomas squeezed his hand tightly in the early morning sunlight.

It didn’t make sense that Thomas loved roses.

Some mornings, Thomas would awaken to see his lover with dried tear stains on his face, leftover markings from when someone had tried and failed to break through the walls surrounding the palace of his mind. Cobblestone crumbling down to the ground as they had carelessly tossed aside years and years of hard work, impatient and uncaring of their creator. In those mornings, Thomas would hold Alexander as closely and as tightly as possible, whispering soft lavender promises into his ear in attempt to soothe him.

Lavender has been proven to have calming effects on people, and when Thomas’s voice was laced with the gentle scent of lavender, winding around each soundwave into a soft swaying of the stalks in the summer breeze, Alexander could have admired the flowers until they wilted. And they did wilt, as all flowers tend to do, but in those moments, they had forever, and held onto it with an iron grip. Thomas’s soap was lavender scented, as well, and as a consequence of that, Thomas’s pillow smelled deeply of the flower. On nights when all flowers had wilted and turned away from the sunlight that they had used to bask in, Alexander would gently hold the pillow on the other side of the bed and bury his face into it, attempting to surround himself with the memory of gardens planted in their hearts with care.

So why on Earth did Thomas prefer roses instead of other blossoms?

Alexander supposed that it was because of the sharp thorns adorning the stems found on rosebushes. The way how if one was not careful, they might prick their finger, crimson liquid spilling over from a cut and blossoming into scarlet rosebuds dancing in the wind. It was only natural to wish to be surrounded by things much like oneself. When they had first met, Alexander could feel each spike of the thorns with each of Thomas’s cutting remarks and sharp gazes out from the corners of his eyes.

The blossoms, however? Alexander could never imagine Thomas amongst roses. It was easy enough for the thorns, but such a soft flower as a rose, blooming into a hundred petals folding out and over in on themselves into forever? That was nothing like Thomas.

However, Thomas was nothing like a dandelion, either. Nothing in him grew slow and steady, draining its surroundings of life until it had absorbed all the energy it could. He did not soak up all the sunlight until there was none left for anyone else, despite what many may have claimed about the man. Pulling away all chances for hope and love and admiration for other blossoms in the garden of their universe was nothing at all like Thomas.

But the brain tumor wasn’t Thomas, so it didn’t need to be like him.

When Thomas had first told Alexander about upcoming winter, that his flowers would go dormant and unlikely to blossom once more, he hadn’t taken the news well. At first, disbelief had run through his mind like careless footsteps hopping over a fence and trampling the plants that had taken so long to grow. Small bursts of color in an otherwise grey world being crushed along with his hopes, helpless to fight the onslaught of pain that none could truly stop.

So Alexander had wrapped his arms around Thomas, as if the walls he’d built around his heart could be extended toward his lover’s fields and hills of wildflowers covered in now-dull thorns. After a moment, he’d felt Thomas hold him tightly, thick vines of ivy twirling around him and encasing him in the life that would be drained from the world far too soon. Soon enough, Alexander felt droplets of tears begin to drip down from Thomas’s cheeks and onto the top of Alexander’s head. Water droplets falling from leaves as leftover rainwater from the previous night.

Flowers don’t wilt in a single day, as anyone who has ever tended to a garden will ever tell you. It took time for each petal of the flowers to wilt and crumble into grey dust, no longer a brilliant shock of color. At first, Thomas had seen doctors every week, leaving for tests and scans and screenings each morning with a weak smile on his face and a gentle kiss to Alexander’s cheek. But after two weeks, Thomas had come home on Saturday, wrapped his arms tightly around Alexander and whispered horrible words like ‘terminal’ and ‘four months’.

He never stopped smiling, not until he had to save his energy. When Thomas still lived in their home, slept in bed with Alexander, kissed him awake every morning, he had always smiled. The only hints of what was now inevitable were small things- going up the stairs slower, being out of breath after walking quickly for a few steps, the petals around him only beginning to gain a golden-brown hue around the edges.

But then Thomas had passed out after laughing too hard, and he had to go to a facility. Not a hospital, though. Hospitals were for people that could be saved, people that only needed a few dying petals brushed away until their hope blossomed into new love of life, the hope of saying ‘hello’ to a thousand new people. Facilities like Thomas’s were for people who just wanted time to say goodbye.

They’d had time to do that- more than enough time, as ‘goodbye’ is only a singular word- but never did exactly that. They had spoken idly of what their future was meant to be in the way that daydreaming teenagers in the midst of first love tend to do. Alexander had tried to steer away from the topic of his eventual grief, and Thomas had done much the same, except for one specific topic.

He wanted roses at his funeral.

And so that’s what he had. It was a rather small event, as a whole. Only a few people attended, just those closest to Thomas. Everyone cried for memories they had never had the chance to create, and no one spoke of memories that had already been made. Alexander thought it was a shame that Thomas’s roses had no thorns. It was the one thing about roses that was truly like Thomas, and they had cut them off, uncaring of what they meant to others. People wanted to act as though the thorns had never been there, but all along the stems were small markings of where the sharpness had been sliced off in favor of something more comfortable to handle.

Alexander didn’t leave Thomas’s grave until sunset.

He sat on the freshly settled dirt and stared at the inscription on the light grey stone for hours, tears in his eyes distorting his vision until he was barely able to read them. His hands tightly clutched the roses that had been at the service, unable to bring himself to care if he broke the stems or not. His breaths had steadied, after some time, although they were still rather shaky. Exhaling quietly, he set the roses down in front of the tombstone and stood, raising his gaze to look at the sunset-scattered sky.

And amidst the tinges of pink and blue melded into pale orange that could almost be red, Alexander smiled down at the roses on Thomas’s grave.

He supposed that the contrast between pale grey and bright crimson did look rather nice.

[ponyregrets]

So what are your thoughts on S4 overall? I know you didn't care about the last season very much

my good friend @tlaloc​ asked for spoilers/if she should catch up on the show so I ended up writing a very long email with a summary of every episode in the season and my feelings on whether or not she should watch each one, so I’m just going to use that email as my answer here, anon!

401: The apocalypse is back, in pog form! They call the upcoming badness THE DEATH WAVE and it is literally a wave of fire we see it consuming some Egyptian grounders at the end of this episode so that's cool. Anyway this is a solid intro episode, kind of weird camera angles, but we set up Roan in charge, Clarke wants to save the world, Bellamy is attractive, etc. etc. I like this one.Watch: Yes

402: This episode is really weird because the big plot is about how they are gonna turn the Ark into a bunker to survive the upcoming DEATH WAVE and Bellamy takes a rag-tag bunch of misfits to some Ice Nation place to get a part they need, but then they discover they have SLAVES and Bellamy has to decide whether to get the part and leave the slaves or blow up the part to save the slaves. This was clearly meant to make Bellamy sympathetic again after the whole massacre thing, but by saving the slaves he reduced the savior capacity of the Ark from 500 people to 100 people so anyone who was still mad at Bellamy remained mad at Bellamy. Also Octavia starts murdering people, that's cool.Watch: Follow your heart

403: Bellamy and Clarke go on a road trip with Jaha because he found a new cult to be into on his iPad. Clarke has to make a list of 100 people who will survive the upcoming apocalypse. She cries about putting her own name on so Bellamy writes it for her. I don't care about anything else that happened. OH WAIT radiation is coming Luna shows up like dying of radiation but DOESN'T DIE dun dun dunWatch: I've seen this episode like eight times

404: OKAY NOW WE ARE GETTING INTO THE SHITTY MIDDLE OF THIS SEASON WHERE THE POINTS ARE MADE UP AND THE SCORES DON'T MATTER goddd anyway Monty and Jasper (oh btw Jasper was gonna kill himself before but found out that the world is ending anyway and was like COOL I CAN JUST WAIT so yeah) find the list and are like CLARKE THIS IS FUCKED UP YOU ARE NOT GOD Roan kidnaps Bellamy and finds out they are planning to keep the Ark just for themselves, Octavia gets shoved off a cliff, Bellamy gets told she's dead and is FUCKING HEART BREAKING and then all the tension is lost because they immediately reveal that she's alive, this will be a patternWatch: Eh

405: THIS EPISODE IS SUCH A GIANT WASTE like did you ever read the last twilight book where they are about to have a huge confrontation but then one of them can see the future and she sees how the fight would go so she's like nah we out? that's this episode. Bellamy figures out immediately that his sister is alive so they do nothing with ROCK BOTTOM GRIEF and then he has to talk this rando dude everyone acts like we care about (no seriously he is one of the slaves they saved in 402 and everyone is like YAY IT'S RILEY and makes a big deal and he is just a non-entity) out of murdering Roan and he does but it's a shitty speech also Echo is there being weird Echo is so weird this season I think they just want to have her around to date Bellamy if they chicken out of Bellarke ANYWAY Clarke and Roan agree that they will share the 100 spaces in the Ark, but then Ilian, the grounder who brought Octavia back, decides to set fire to the entire Ark and it burns up in a fiery explosion while Bellamy holds Octavia and and Clarke holds both of them and they're all like OUR HOME IS GONEWatch: Probably not

406: The Ark appears undamaged everyone is still hanging out living there it's SO WEIRD Clarke gets laid and stares at a picture of Lexa, Octavia tells Bellamy she hates him for killing Lincoln, which is the first we've heard of it since the season began, BUT THEN Clarke and Bellamy go on a pretty great roadtrip with Roan so Clarke can go to science island, where Raven and her mom are using Luna's blood to try to save people, bc nightbloods are immune to radiation. Also they need to go to space and are bringing rocket fuel. Bellamy definitely tries to tell Clarke he loves her on a river bank.Watch: Sure

407: OH this one is pretty great actually! Emori is a fucking badass on science island, Clarke is good, Bellamy has a GREAT storyline and also takes off his shirt. It's relatively plot light--black rain is coming and burning people, they need someone to test nightblood on probably--but a nicely done self-contained episode. This is also FINALLY when they start realizing what they need to do with Bellamy, which is shut up about the massacre and actually let him do good things.Watch: Yes!

408: This one is pretty meh. They spend the whole episode with Clarke having a moral crisis about using Emori to test nightblood, which is annoying because the moral stakes are fucked. Clarke ends up taking the nightblood herself at the last minute, which is theoretically fine, but they wanted it to be a twist ending so everyone kind of makes no sense up until then to make it happen. Also Abby immediately destroys the radiation chamber that they're gonna use to test if the nightblood really protects them from radiation so it doesn't matter anyway. Bellamy and Jasper go on a quick roadtrip to get drugs and then Bellamy gets drunk and probably laid, so good for you, buddy. Watch: Eh

409: This one was pretty boring IIRC? Mostly I remember that at the end Clarke tries to become commander and Roan shuts her down and decides they're gonna battle royale instead, and it was annoying on like every level. OH Jaha and Kane and Monty found a bunker by Polis where 1200 people can survive so they're taking all their people there, but Jasper and (randomly and stupidly) Harper and some other people decide they want to stay behind to die instead. Monty stays with them for friendship, but is planning to get to the bunker. The battle royale is one champion from each clan fighting, and the winning clan gets the bunker. That's their plan. It's not a great plan. Octavia's been off randomly having sex with Ilian and failing to be a farmer and she shows back up again to fight for skaikru. Her arc this season is a mess, but this is when it starts turning around. Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with anything else she did this season. It just starts going in a better but ultimately random direction.Watch: Eh

410: THIS ONE IS GREAT I was so ready to hate it but they do a good job with the battle royale. Luna shows up to be like IF I WIN YOU ALL DIE bc she's mad at basically everyone, which they don't quite sell, but it spooks Clarke bc Luna is an amazing fighter. Bellamy's like, listen Octavia you are not actually a baller you need to hide until most people are killed, and they follow through on that. Ilian saves her (and dies, you were v pointless, Ilian), and then Roan rethinks Clarke's "we should form an alliance" and forms an alliance with her. Bellamy has to stop Echo cheating and has a GREAT scene with Roan. Octavia eventually does win and I actually believed it, and she says they'll share the bunker equally, which was kind of annoying bc it was literally what Clarke wanted to do, but then it turns out Clarke and Jaha STOLE THE FUCKING BUNKER and also knocked Bellamy out to get him inside before they sealed it. which was SUCH A GREAT TWIST and I was so pumped but unfortunately, next episodeWatch: YES

411: OKAY so like this episode had a lot of individually good parts, but REALLY refused to pick a fucking lane with Clarke, to its detriment. There was great Blake sibling stuff, good Bellamy stuff, but Clarke was just kinda like "eh idk what to do" and really wishy-washy because they wanted this dramatic moment of her pointing a gun at Bellamy, which was fine, but then they had zero follow-up on that. BUT there was a great Raven subplot (Raven is dying of an ALIE brain tumor, I forgot to mention) where she talks to ghost Sinclair in her head and chooses life and I love it. But unfortunately there is ALSO the Jasper subplot where he gets all the kids but Monty and Harper to commit mass suicide and it was majorly triggering for a friend of mine. So, uh, yeah. Anyway in the end Bellamy unseals the bunker and lets the grounders in and O takes charge and tells them they have to pick 100 people for their slots and everyone else dies.Watch: ????????

412: MOST PEOPLE LIKED THIS EPISODE MORE THAN I DID I found the main plot pretty boring it was just Jaha being THE WORST and being like WE FOUND THIS BUNKER WE SHOULD GET SLOTS FOR ALL OUR PEOPLE and stirring shit as they tried to perform a lottery to pick slots. Eventually Kane talks him down and they gas all their own people and just use Clarke's list of 100 people to survive from 403 to pick. Whomp whomp. Meanwhile Clarke and Bellamy are kinda awks but it doesn't last long and he flirts so hard with her he commits vehicular manslaughter, which is hilarious, but Clarke's arc is such a fucking mess this season. ANYWAY they're on a road trip to get Raven that (of course) goes wrong, they end up with eight people on science island who have to go BACK TO SPACE to surviveWatch: Probably yeah

413: COUNTDOWN TO DEATH WAVE this was a good one, tight, single-plot with the kids at science island trying to get the spaceship working. Bellamy and Clarke were A LOT but they also made sure Bellamy had some shiptease stuff with Raven and Echo, I assume in case they decide not to go Bellarke. Clarke ends up having to stay behind on earth to get everyone else out, but because of her nightblood she survives. Bellamy thinks he left her to die on earth and is super sad. Then we get SIX YEAR TIME JUMP Clarke has a cute haircut and adopted a grounder and has been calling Bellamy EVERY DAY even though he can't hear her she just talks to him anyway and she SPOTS A SHIP and thinks it's them but of course it's a MYSTERIOUS OTHER SHIP DUN DUN DUNWatch: For sure

And that's what you missed on Glee! Overall I think S4 was better than S3 but the pacing was AWFUL and they kept just setting shit up and botching the delivery. I'm honestly pretty excited about the timeskip for S5 and I am looking forward to a hiatus full of angsty BELLAMY THINKS CLARKE IS DEAD fic like damn

[reikisessions]

Radical Gratitude: How to Turn Your Pain into Peace

My journey to living in gratitude began in 2010. And let me say that up until that time, until I was age forty-five, I was a complainer, griper, and a whiner, with absolutely no reason to complain!

Luckily, I was saved from these very wasteful, counter-productive habits when I was given a blank journal one Thanksgiving season by a New Thought minister, who told us if we journaled five things we were grateful for forty days, our life would change exponentially for the better.

I dutifully wrote my gratitude lists, and oh my god, my life did change. It worked! I let go of complaining and started focusing on all the good in my life, and there is plenty.

Since then:

1. I have written five or ten things to be grateful for almost every day for years and years. Each morning and each evening, I also reflect on what I am thankful for.

2. I have realized (and I am thankful) that it is now my calling and passion to share the power of gratitude to inspire others.

3, Because of my passion to share gratitude, I have written and published five books on gratitude!

Nowadays, I keep my gratitude practice alive and well by sending out daily email gratitude reflections to a group, and I also write letters to the Universe several times a week about what I am thankful for now, and in advance. I find that each year, my gratitude practice expands. Nowadays, I often write paragraphs rather than a short list about what I am grateful for.

Did you know that scientific studies prove that being grateful helps to be more peaceful, more joyful, and healthier? It is said that you cannot be simultaneously mad or depressed while being grateful, and I’ve found this to be true.

It is my belief that we can almost always find a reason to be grateful, even when confronted with tragedies, unexpected disasters, or even ill health—a practice known as “radical gratitude.” And this holds true for challenging people in our lives as well. Here are two disclaimers:

Forgiveness and acceptance can often be key to finding the gratitude in a situation, but these two concepts will not be discussed in this article. The article would be too long!

One more disclaimer: I realize there are some tragedies where a person cannot ever feel gratitude, such as losing a loved one or being sexually abused. It may not work for everybody and every situation.

But more often than not, we can find the gratitude in negative situations in our life.

My Personal Experience of Finding Gratitude in Tough Times

In the summer of 2018, Oregon (where I live) had many devastating wildfires. We watched in horror and disbelief as it came closer and closer to our home. It became obvious we would probably be evacuated. The smoke was black, firefighters and National Guard were checking everyone’s IDs before letting them enter the street to our house.

Neighbors and I got out of our cars to stop and watch it burning fields and trees so close to our homes. I tried to keep a positive attitude, but it got to be only a half-mile up the street from our house. Very, very scary! I love where we live, and the thought of losing our home was terrifying.

On a Saturday afternoon, as I tried to take a nap to escape, our phones started ringing and texting that we were in Level 3, evacuation time. Get out now.

We took our dogs and my cockatiels, computer, important papers, and some clothes and left the rest. We were evacuated for six days and got to come home—all houses and neighbors were thankfully safe and sound. Here are my gratitude takeaways:

1. We were taken in by friends from the Center for Spiritual Living where I attend, and actually about eight other people had offered us refuge as well. I am very grateful for that, and for Alison and Gary who made us feel at home, helping me set my computer up at their house so I could work and putting up with us and our messy pets. We all became much closer friends through this experience, and we socialize with them regularly.

2. I am now grateful for the firefighters and all personnel who helped—in my heart, not only in my head. They are amazing!

3. I think the biggest gratitude I have for the wildfire experience is that I was able to surrender and let go of coming back to our home. This was the only way to stay sane, and that was a gift. After all, it is love, not possessions that matter, and I got clearer on that through the experience.

When I was thirty-five, I lost my beautiful mother when she was only fifty-seven through cancer. This was a horrible time in my life. I remember waking up feeling good and then immediately feeling dread and sorrow, when I remembered that Mom would die soon.

One of my gratitude takeaways from that grief-stricken time is that I was Mom’s main caregiver, and that brought me much closer to her in those last nine months. My sisters and I got closer because of that experience, and that was the first time I got introduced to A Course in Miracles, a spiritual set of lessons that changed my life for the better.

My mother had what I called “Angels” helping her from The Center for Attitudinal Healing in Tiburon, CA and they studied A Course in Miracles, which prompted me to study it as well, because they were so giving and inspirational to me.

Also, before she died, my mother spent time reflecting on her cancer and what could have caused it, and felt that being a people-pleaser and fearful all her life had prompted the disease. She left me with the message not to be like her, which I am very grateful for and have always remembered, and changed my codependent behavior because of it. Additionally, we had time to say goodbye, which cancer usually provides, and that was a big blessing too.

One more example that changed my life incredibly in so many ways was going through a divorce after twenty-four years. This was a very difficult decision, I wasn’t sure if it was the right one, and my ex-husband ended up deciding for us. I was heartbroken. So heartbroken that I finally sought out the Center for Spiritual Living, in Santa Rosa, CA, which many people in my life had gently suggested I might attend because they felt I would love it too. And I did!

From the moment I entered, I got tears in my eyes, seeing all the loving, warm people. As I listened to the talk, I realized even more that this would be my spiritual home the rest of my life, and it has been.

I am eternally grateful for my divorce now. I took the spiritual classes voraciously; became a licensed practitioner, now serving in Oregon where I live. I am blessed to teach spiritual classes and workshops, and in 2019, I spoke at two Centers for Spiritual Living about the topics in this article.

I eventually met my second husband, who I have been with for almost twenty years, and we are much more compatible. He asked me to move to Oregon and I did. And I am in love with the forest, rivers, and beauty. None of this would have happened had I stayed in my first marriage. Very thankful!

In each of these cases, some gratitude was easily available, but more came later. It may take time, even many years to find the gratitude, but looking for it helps your healing.

I want to mention several well-known people and how they found radical gratitude in their lives. Each is very inspiring to me!

Viktor Frankl was a psychiatrist who ended up being put into a concentration camp during the Holocaust, and amazingly, found a way to stay positive. He ended up writing a very impactful book as a result of his experience—Man’s Search for Meaning—which has sold fifteen million copies and thus, impacted so many people’s lives.

His premise is that we need to find meaning in life, and that will help carry us through even the hardest situations. He was a walking example. Here is a quote from his powerful book:

“Everything can be taken…but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Will Pye who wrote a wonderful book on the subject of radical gratitude, The Gratitude Prescription, after he was diagnosed with a brain tumor and, through gratitude, healed himself completely.

Here is a quote from his excellent book:

“In looking at our self and our life story through the lens of gratitude, we can come into contact with the beauty and heroism inherent in every human alive. Gratitude for self supports a compassion encompassing all of us.”

There are other examples too, of physical healing, where the person ends up being grateful for the illness. Anita Moorjani realized on a deep level that we are love after a near death experience, and could let go of her fear of cancer completely, and had a spontaneous remission. It is her calling to share her findings with others, and she wrote a beautiful book about her experience, Dying to Be Me, which has reached millions of people across the world.

Helen Keller has always been one of my heroes. Even though she was deaf and blind at such a young age, she somehow always found reasons to express her gratitude. I share a very powerful quote from her:

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched—they must be felt with the heart. I thank God for my handicaps. So much has been given me, I have no time to ponder over that which has been denied.”

In conclusion, I truly believe that we can almost always find gratitude in even the most challenging situations. It may take time, so be patient. Life is about how we respond to it, and we are always at choice, like Victor Frankl and Helen Keller so beautifully prove. I feel my own life examples also show this.

Being radically grateful is not always easy but incredibly worthwhile. Our attitude truly affects our lives, and living with gratitude is powerful beyond measure.

About

Deborah Perdue

Deborah Perdue, author of the beautiful Grace of Gratitude Journal, and four other gratitude books, loves to share the powerful practice of gratitude. She teaches workshops and classes and is an award-winning book designer. You can find her blogs here and listen to her talk on the same subject here. You can sign up for free daily Gratitude Reflection emails on the home page at graceofgratitude.com.

[qura-online-blog]

Taking Care of You and Your Family’s Mental Health is a Need of Time

Mental health is so underrated in our society that no one even bothers to grasp the significance of it. People all around us keep on plunging into stress, anxiety and depression and we don’t even realize it until it’s too late. Mental health is as important as physical health; nonetheless, it’s less paid heed to.

Our Creator Allah has made no such disease/condition without a cure and this, He has promised in His Holy book Quran. Reciting or Listening to the Quran cleanses the soul and mind just like a bath cleanses our body. We need nutritious food to keep our bodies in good physical shape, similarly, we need something as pure as Quran to feed and nourish our minds.

Quran: The Best Family Counsellor

Every machine comes with an instruction panel and who says humans are not machines, except our instruction panel is Quran. Every exam comes with a syllabus and who says humans are not taking an exam, except our syllabus is Quran. One who reads and understands Quran shall pass this exam with flying colors.

Knowing how to read Quran is a blessing itself and understanding it is a bounty! Those who are lucky enough to acknowledge the worthiness of Quran but are unlucky in terms of being able to read/understand it should not worry at all. There are plenty of Quran classes for adults near you who offer Quranic Arabic Course and teach Quran Tajweed.

Those of you who find it difficult to step out of your homes and are determined to get best Quran Online Courses can join the Online Quran Academy or can hire a Quran teacher at home.  

There isn’t a single problem, physical or mental, that hasn’t been covered in Quran. Just read the Quran with translation or Tajweed and let it seep through your veins. If you can’t do it alone, let a Quran tutor help you out. Even if a single family member indulges in understanding and preaching the Quran, it somehow effects each and every member of the household and the effects are always positive. Once the Quranic teachings make their way through the daily hustle and bustle of your life, you and your family will begin to experience a tremendous change in your physical as well as mental well-being.

Quran and Medical Science

According to Science, meditation and yoga also helps reduce stress but did you know that offering prayers five times a day is yoga/meditation itself? Science has proved that when a person goes into Sujood (prostrates) while offering Salah, the blood flow through his brain increases which is itself a cure or prevention for numerous bodily disorders, including stress. Read the Quran and you will be astounded to know hundreds of facts which our Allah revealed to us centuries ago but Science is just proving them today. For yet another instance, how a child is born, how blood runs through our veins, how there are millions of other galaxies in the multi universe, all this is known before the invention of a microscope, a telescope or even the subject of Science itself, just because Allah revealed it to us centuries ago.

He always wants His creation to be well informed, and that’s the reason he left Quran for us. Alas, ignoring its teachings is the biggest mistake we all are making which is resulting in our rickety mindsets and fragile mental and physical health.

Faith in Allah

Last but not the least, having faith in Allah and his Holy Book Quran is the most important factor. You can’t find solace in reading the Quran unless you know it in your heart that this is the only way out for you gifted to you by your God. Listening to sermons that encompass the teachings of Quran can also help a great deal. Most people look for Quran classes near their vicinity to free themselves of the daily drudgery and those who are unable to do so, opt for online Qurans sermons or recitation.  Whatever is convenient for you just go for it and feel the difference.

Islamic Rituals and Health

A new research just recently surfaced about Fasting. If a person fasts annually for 30 consecutive days, his tumors will starve and abolish, his stomach and intestines will be cleansed, his kidneys and liver will prosper. The Quran has mentioned fasting numerous times, of course it holds significance.

The ritual of Hajj or Umrah demands plenty of physical effort and physical effort oks miracles for our bone and muscle strength.

If you go through Quran in detail, you will find nothing that is hazardous to your health. The practical practice of the Quranic teachings is showered with benefits for mind and body. Long before mother Teresa, Quran taught us how to love and live for people. Islamic teachings not only bring us close to Allah but also close to the world. Once Allah starts loving us, He will also make His creation love us. To earn Allah’s love, practicing the Islamic values is very crucial which in turn only benefits us, not Him.  

Fate and Acceptance

There is one thing known as ‘Fate’. Sometimes an individual recites, understands and practically applies the teachings of Quran in his daily routine, nevertheless, he is somehow stricken with grief, tragedies and continuous tests. Well, if he really does believe in fate written by Allah for him, he will never complain but try to pass the test patiently. The grief will bring him even closer to his God and indeed Allah tests those who He loves. Patience comes with regular a contact with Allah which can be attained through a special medium; The Holy Quran. Recitation of Quran feels like Allah is directly talking to us and it’s the best feeling in the world.

This is an era of humongous stress and it’s mandatory for you to keep on the rightful tracks in order to maintain your and your family’s mental health. After all, a family with a sound mind builds up a society right.