#how will i ever recover from picking inclined plane

[gir-posting]

my toxic trait is that if i picked an unpopular choice on a poll i simply dont reblog it

[arashikitten]

Why has no one made a Yu Yu Hakusho x Danny Phantom crossover yet?

?I mean, honestly, look at these two shows! Look at them! How is it that no one (that I know of) has made a crossover with them yet? There’s so much potential!  I mean honestly! Both are about a 14-year-old who died in or before the first episode, came back to life through some sort of shenanigans, and ended up with supernatural abilities as a result. Both Danny and Yusuke have a very close knit friend group comprised of people who know about said supernatural abilities and help them fight all form of malicious supernatural entities (Danny fights ghosts, Yusuke fights demons). Both Yusuke and Danny have a rival/arch-nemesis who, at the start of the series, is leagues above the protagonists in terms of power, but ends up being surpassed by the main protagonist sometime during the second season of their respective show. Both Vlad and Toguro serve as foils to Danny and Yusuke respectively, and while they may feel some sort of kinship with them for some reason or other, they tend to see the young protagonist as someone who is below them in terms of power, intelligence, and skills (even after that is no longer the case). Both Danny and Yusuke are snarky and seem like delinquents to all but their closest friends, but secretly they have a heart of absolute gold. Both would (and have) died for any one of their friends, and they likely have a metric fuck ton of trauma from the many, many, many times they almost watched their friends and family die right in front of them. And of course, both Danny and Yusuke are likely to become kings of their own supernatural realm (if you disregard DP’s canon in favor of the fanon like I do).

So then the question becomes this: how would a crossover between the two shows go?

Here’s how I see it playing out:

Sometime after the last episode of Yu Yu Hakusho, and right after the events of Reign Storm, Yusuke (who I would say is about 18-19 years old now) gets a call from Koenma for the first time in almost 4 years. Koenma tells Yusuke that he needs him to come back for one final case: investigate a small town in Northeastern America for recent spikes in spiritual and demonic activity. 

When Yusuke asks why Koenma wants him to look into what is seemingly a tourist trap town, Koenma tells him that the town was recently encased under a dome of spirit energy, disappeared for almost 24 hours, and then suddenly reappeared again, and Koenma suspects that someone- or something- from spirit world might be responsible.

Three calls and four plane tickets later, Yusuke and the gang land in Illinois and make their way to Amity Park. Kuwabara takes one (1) step into the town and immediately freezes. He’s always been the most spirit-sensitive of the group, and this town is setting off all of his proverbial alarms. Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke also notice something off about the town, like everyone here has way higher spirit energy than normal. 

The four make their way through town, noticing more and more as they continue. They notice the massive craters that litter the streets. They notice the constant smell of spirit and demon energy that drenches the town like a fog, covering everything and everyone. They notice the small, silvery-grey and green devices that almost everyone seems to have on their wrist, and Yusuke can’t help but think about how similar they look to the spirit-detecting gadgets he used to have back during the beginning of his detective career. They notice the metal panels that every store seems to have hanging above their windows, waiting to come down and defend from some unknown beast.

They notice how, whenever they appear in an area, everyone in the vicinity goes silent. Tense. Wary of them. Like they know three demons just appeared, even if all of them look human.

Yusuke and his team split up to search through the town and cover more ground, agreeing to meet by the local highschool in two hours. Things just get even weirder from there. 

 Kurama finds a patch of wild blood blossoms growing near the forest, despite the fact that they were declared extinct more than 200 years ago. Hiei sees a pair of burly men wearing all white suits and dark sunglasses dragging a young man with white hair and sunglasses away for questioning. Kuwabara is surprised when a small, glowing green puppy appears in front of him, only to vanish when he leans down to pet it.

Yusuke finds a massive stone brick building with what almost looks like a UFO perched on top, and huge neon sign with the words FentonWorks on it. Here, the spirit energy is almost suffocating, and it feels like molasses, thick and heavy and dense on Yusuke’s senses. He feels something else though, something that just barely manages to break through the thick ambient spirit energy that swamps this entire block: a ghost. And a powerful one at that.

By the time the group reconvenes at the high school, everyone is tense. They’re sure that there’s something sketchy in this town, but none of them have gotten any concrete leads on what caused the town’s sudden disappearance and reappearance. Almost none of the townsfolk give them any answers, and the few that do are vague and confusing, or outright lies. Kuwabara firmly believes that this town is haunted by ghosts, and that they’re what caused the sudden disappearance, but Yusuke, having been a ghost himself at one point, is less inclined to believe that. Yusuke is convinced that the house with the weird UFO thing and abnormal spirit energy has something to do with it, and the gang agrees that would be the best place to start.

Before they can do that though, they all suddenly sense a MASSIVE spike in spirit energy, coming from the center of town. Yusuke and the gang book it to where the spike is, hoping to get some sort of lead.

Meanwhile, Danny is having a fight with Skulker, made slightly more difficult than normal due to the fact that he’s still recovering from the whole Pariah Dark fiasco. He’s been on edge all day, ever since he sensed that weird ectosignature near his house. He’d felt the typical chill of his ghost sense, but the typical puff of blueish smoke wasn’t present like it usually was. On top of that, he’d felt a small jolt of electricity, too big to be chalked up to static electricity and carrying with it a hint of... something. Something not entirely human. 

But when Danny had tried to investigate, he’d come up empty handed. Which as you can guess, made Danny My-friends-and-family-have-all-almost-been-killed-by-a-ghost-disguised-as-a-human-at-least-once Fenton more than a little nervous.

So Danny’s fighting Skulker when he feels that not-quite ghost sense again, except this time it’s even stronger than before and waaaay the hell closer. And now Danny goes from nervous to flat out terrified, because whoever or whatever is triggering his not-quite ghost sense is really fucking strong, and oh fuck are there four of them?! Are they getting closer?!?! Whatever it is is really strong, like almost stronger than Pariah Dark and Danny was barely able to take him down at 100% strength with the enhanced suit, and he no longer has the suit and he still has not fully recovered since then, so how in the fresh hell is he gonna fight four beings who are at least on par with Pariah? 

Skulker notices the sudden power spike as well and immediately bounces, leaving Danny to panic over these four insanely powerful entities. 

Yusuke and the gang make it just in time to see Skulker leave while Danny hovers in the air, looking like he’s about to blow a gasket. Kurama takes one look at the panicking ghost kid floating above him, notices the weird spirit energy around the kid, and immediately puts two and two together and realizes the kid is a ghost, and a really powerful one. Yusuke, who if you remember spent about a week as a ghost at the age of 14, is confused because I thought ghosts couldn’t be seen by living people? But these bystanders are clearly seeing this kid? 

And then Yusuke senses that strange spirit energy he felt when he went by FentonWorks, and he’s like “You were the reason for the weird spirit signature!” at Danny, who panics and flies off because now he thinks these super powerful guys are working for the GiW, and he’d rather not spend the rest of his afterlife on an examination table.

So Danny flies off, hoping to lose Yusuke and his gang, but Yusuke I-used-to-fight-demons-who-could-move-at-the-speed-of-sound-for-fun Urameshi and Hiei have absolutely no problem keeping up with the panicking halfa, and they end up fighting. Yusuke and Hiei want answers, Danny is terrified of being caught by what are possibly government agents, and finally Kurama manages to trap the halfa with ghostly vines.

Unfortunately for Danny, these vines are phase-proof, meaning he can’t escape, and he’s already hurt and exhausted and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his ghost form.

Yusuke picks up on the ghost’s nervousness immediately, and again assumes that this ghost is the culprit for Amity’s sudden disappearance, demanding to know why he abducted an entire town.

Danny is confused, because what the hell are these people talking about? He never abducted the town? He’s not nearly that powerful?? Before he realizes that oh, these people are trying to figure out why the town disappeared for 24 hours because literally no one outside of Amity Park has any idea why.

So Danny starts to explain what really happened, when his time finally runs out and he detransforms. 

Right in front of what he believes to be four government officials.

There are five different reactions.

Hiei goes still. He’s completely silent. This shouldn’t be possible. He wants to believe that this is all a trick, but he can hear that fifth heartbeat that wasn’t there ten seconds ago and he smells that fear scent that only humans have and glamour can only do so much.

Kurama has the calmest reaction. He leans back a little, eyes wide, and lets out a soft “oh”. Yes, this is a surprise to him, but then again, Kurama himself is a demon hiding as a human, with a human family, so he immediately sympathizes with Danny a bit.

Danny is panicking. He’s just revealed his biggest secret to four complete strangers, all of whom are absolutely powerful enough to take him out on their own, and he is terrified that they’ll turn him in to the government. He’s about five seconds from a full-blown panic attack.

Kuwabara freaks out. He’s trying to wrap his mind around this whole thing, because he is 100% sure this kid was a ghost, that he was dead, but now he’s not sensing much of anything and how the hell is this possible???? How can someone be a ghost and a human at the same time???? WHAT????? He’s pulling at his hair as he tries to put the logistics of it together, pacing back and forth.

Yusuke freezes. Suddenly he’s 14 again, floating as he watches his body get carted off as he tries to come to terms with the fact that he’s dead. Then he’s in the temple of the four saint beasts, fighting with everything he has as he watches the love of his life get attacked by monstrous zombies. Then kneeling next to Genkai’s broken and bleeding body, begging her not to go even as she draws her last breath because he couldn’t bear to lose the woman that he’s come to see as family, as the closest thing he’d ever have to a grandmother. Then he’s watching Toguro plunge his hand into Kuwabara’s heart, watching as his best freind gasps for breath because Yusuke wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t strong enough, and he just lost Genkai he can’t loose Kuwabara too-.

And when he looks down at this small, skinny teenager with deep shadows under his eyes and knuckles covered in scars from god-knows haw many fights, he sees himself as he was in the beginning: Just a kid who was thrust into the world of the supernatural without any warning, desperately trying to stay alive and protect the human world despite the fact that he’s only a teenager, and he shouldn’t have to be fighting for his life against these ancient and powerful demons because he’s a kid, dammit!

Yusuke kneels down to get to eye level with the kid. He can’t help the painful twinge in his chest when the kid looks up at him with wide, icy blue eyes, and quietly begs him not to tell anyone, because this kid can’t be much older than he was when he started out as a spirit detective and he sounds absolutely terrified, and Yusuke can’t help but wonder why he sounds so scared of people learning about the whole ghost thing. 

“Listen, kid. We’re not going to hurt you. We were sent here to investigate something, and we were hoping you might know something. Can you tell us your name?”

“Danny. D-Danny Fenton.”

“Ok, cool. Don’t worry, none of here are going to tell anyone about... about whatever this is. We just want to know about something that happened here a week ago, and we were hoping you could give us some answers.”

Danny agrees, and Kurama frees him from the vines. After a couple of moments, Danny calms down as he realizes that no, these guys won’t rat him out to the government, and he agrees to answer some of their questions.

The group make their way to the outskirts of the forest, and Danny tells them about his status as a half-ghost: he tells them about his parents, how they were building a portal to the ghost zone (Everyone is more than a little freaked out at that, because now there’s a permanent portal to spirit world that Koenma doesn’t know about), how he’d gone inside to see if he could figure out why it wasn’t working, how it’d turned on while he was inside (Yusuke clenches his fists hard enough to draw blood. Both of the times he’d died had been excruciatingly painful, but at least they’d been quick. Getting electrocuted to death would be beyond agonizing, and getting caught in a portal like that...). He tells them about how his parents despise ghosts, believing them to be cruel, malicious, and emotionless, incapable of feeling pain. He tells them about how he’s TERRIFIED of telling his parents the truth, of telling them that he’s Danny Phantom because that seems to be the ghost they want to capture the most, and he’s seen what they do to the ghosts they capture (Kurama and Yusuke feel sick at that. No wonder the kid was so adamant about keeping this a secret.). 

“Does anyone else know? Anyone at all?”

Yusuke breathes a small sigh of relief when Danny tells them that his sister and his two best friends know. That sigh of relief is rescinded when the kid tells them that oh yeah, all the ghosts that are constantly attacking the town? Yeah, they know my secret identity too.

Yusuke has to force himself to move on from that last tidbit because he’s about five seconds from adopting this kid despite being only five years older.

“Ok, neat. That’s... that’s ok. Moving on to why we’re here. We were hoping that you would have some information regarding the sudden disappearance and reappearance of Amity Park a week ago? Do you know why or how it happened?”

Danny talks about how, one week ago, ghosts started pouring out of the portal in unprecedented numbers. How they were terrified, running from something in the ghost zone. How Fright Knight had appeared, declaring the reign of Pariah Dark (Kurama and Hiei suck in a breath. Had... had this kid seriously fought against the fabled ghost king?), and the massive green dome had appeared over the town. How he’d tried to fight Fright Knight off, how another ghost by the name of Vlad Plasmius had shown up and admitted that he was the reason for Pariah Dark’s temporary freedom, how Plasmius had decided to have a temporary truce with Danny in order to defeat Pariah, how Danny had pulled Fright Knight’s sword from the ground and accidentally teleported Amity Park into the Ghost zone, how the entire town had gone under lock down. How he’d stolen the power suit from his parent’s lab to go and face Pariah on his own, and bring Amity back to Earth. How he’d just barely been able to shove Pariah back in the sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, how the power suit had almost completely drained his life energy, how the town had been back on earth when he’d woken up (Again, Yusuke has a flashback to the Temple of the Four Saint Beasts. What is it with the powers that be and sending kids to do life-threatening missions like that?).

Kurama records the entire thing before sending it to Koenma. 

When Danny is finally done, he notices that everyone is staring at him. Yusuke is the first one to speak.

“Damn kid, you really fought the king of the Ghost Zone, huh?” Danny stutters for a moment, because this guy is saying it like Danny fought a god or something. Like yeah, it was difficult, but it can’t be that big a deal right?

Then Kurama speaks up. “Danny, I don’t think you understand. There are two ways to crown a king of the Ghost Zone: either the ghost zone itself must choose someone, or the current ghost king must be defeated in battle. You defeated Pariah Dark in battle. Meaning....”

Everyone goes silent for a moment, processing.

Then several things happen at once. Danny, who at this point still hasn’t fully processed that oh yeah, I defeated one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, freaks the hell out because I barely have time to protect one (1) town, how am I going to rule an entire dimension? Kuwabara is flipping his shit again, Hiei is contemplating, and Yusuke.... Yusuke decides screw it, I’m having an apprentice now, and after calming Danny down, he offers to help train him up a bit (Somewhere in spirit world, Genkai starts quietly laughing).

Danny agrees after a moment of deliberation. Yusuke hangs out in Amity for a bit to help Danny. His first interaction with Sam and Tucker is.... interesting. Yusuke snuck up on Sam and Tucker, and Sam promptly punched him in the face and almost broke his nose. But after a bit they start to warm up to him, and eventually Yusuke starts teaching Sam some hand to hand along with Danny.

Vlad makes one appearance while Yusuke is there. He sensed some sort of foreign presence in Amity and wanted to see if he could exploit it, only for Yusuke I-haven’t-slept-in-a-week-and-I-refuse-to-start-now Urameshi to wipe the floor with him. When he asks Danny who the new ghost is, he is surprised to learn that no, Danny is not the only half-ghost in existence, and also that guy is a famous millionaire and also knows my secret identity so maybe let’s not break into his mansion to fight him please? (Yusuke agrees not to after a very lengthy argument. Still, the whole situation reminds him a little too much of Toguro and the Dark tournament, and he quietly asks Koenma to open an investigation into this Vlad Plasmius guy.)

Yusuke’s introduction to Danny’s parents goes... surprisingly well, actually. Aside from one small incident where one of the Fenton ghost detectors lock on to Yusuke’s signature, everything goes fairly well. Jack and Maddie take a shine to him almost immediately, when they see him curb stomp Skulker with a practiced ease that only a professional should have, and within the week Yusuke is an honorary member of the Fenton family.  

There’s a lot more, but this post is waaaay too long as it is. Feel free to add on!

[welcome-to-the-cafe]

Shang-Chi (2021) Review Pt. 2

This one will be about the less character-relevant stuff, such as casting, props, settings, and design.

Easiest first: props and costumes.

A bit cool, a bit silly, and bit too "Chinese-themed".

The old Ten-Ring troops had normal armor for the time and age. The new Ten Ring troops looked like the Snake-Eyes fodder ninjas but with tassled helmets. Like I appreciate what they were going for, but...it look dumb dude. And what they were doing with only one hook sword? The electrified thing was cool, but y'all didn't use the bladed hand guard, the combo hook move, the spiked pommel...wasted potential smh. And then the electric arc crossbows....again I appreciate the idea, but that was silly, especially after we showed the Ten Rings sniper with a normal ass gun. Or, just go full sino-futurism and give me the chainsaw spiked club, the electrified monk's spade, taser three section staff.

The villager's clothes were too...saturated, and monochromatic. It kinda reminded me of Mulan (2020) actually, the white people's ancient Chinese clothing. In contrast, in the he TianLongBaBu wuxia series I've been watching, people dress in...normal earth tones. Oh also, too many fucking sandals, where are my black loafers and thick white socks, with rope bindings? Like the kind modern Shaolin monks wear?? The villager's weapons too. Only Xialing's was kind of interesting, the rest are vanilla staffs and sword+shield. Boooo. Where's the dragonscale fangtianhuaji? The dragonscale guandao? Ok I'm done. Just disappointed.

Wenwu's costumes were pure drip in every scene. Zero complaints.

Shang-Chi's letterman's jacket was my favorite costume to be honest. He should not have changed in the village. The final costume seemed a bit too...modern, but not quite to the level of the Black Panther suit. It just seemed like Western superhero top with a vaguely Chinese pattern on it. Or it looked kindof...southeast asian? Wish it had no sleeves.

Katy should've kept her Macau drip. The "traditional" robe just didn't look right.

Xialing looked the best in her inverse Bruce Lee colors crop top and sweats. Like damn.

Ying Li's robes' green is too saturated in my opinion, unnaturally. Same with Michelle Yeoh's character. Now that I think about it, I hardly ever see bright green in traditional Chinese clothes...or modern Chinese fashion. Her pristine white/biege wushu outfit is also meh for me.

Death Dealer's dark blue + yellow colors are quite striking, but a bit odd and out of place with the rest of the Ten Rings' getup. Perhaps it was intentional, since he's the elite trainer? I wish it was more modern, a la Snake Eyes' suit. I would also like to complain about his opera face makeup though; why only the top half? Is that even a real opera face design? It's kind of a dumb half-ass reference I think. Like, Noh masks are used all the time for creepy effect, why not Beijing Opera?

Next, CGI animals.

Morris the Hundun/Dijiang was cute, but I half expected him to suddenly go nuts and devour Slattery, since the Hundun is one of the primordial evil beasts. But Disney needs their marketable mascot. I even saw a Lego piece for him before the movie was released!

The trip through the other world was a bit too safari-like. Like wow, the Ninetails is just chilling by the road, and a herd of Qilin conveniently pass by. The execution of these creatures were fine, though the Qilin eyes were too "dead".

I don't have problems with the Lions' design, but they were completely unnecessary, and lowered the stakes for the final battle for me. Those two lions could literally tear apart all five of Wenwu's trucks in less than a minute.

I stated already, the big evil monster, the little soulsuckers, and the dragon are completely unnecessary to me. Even when I saw just the wood carving of the soulsucking bats, I felt disappointed. Xialing and Shangchi spent way too long riding the big dragon and not doing kungfu :/

Onto settings.

I just recently visited Bay Area! The hilliness of SF was nicely showed off by the bus fight.

Macao seemed well-grounded and normal for a modern Chinese metropolis. Was portrayed better than Tokyo was in Snake Eyes in my opinion. The bamboo scaffolding scene reminded me heavily of Rush Hour 2's Hong Kong fight, and I could hear Jackie Chan assuring us "don't worry, Chinese bamboo, very strong!".

The Ten Rings compound was...eh. No defining features to locate it anywhere real so whatever. But the interior was weirdly homey?

The Ta Lo village is what I really want to complain about: why they gotta throw Chinese people back to the Xia dynasty like that? Straw huts? Really? And there was a total of like 7 buildings there, across a tiny area. That is not a village, it's a medium-sized temple complex. Kung Fu Panda 3's hidden panda village was loads more impressive, with interesting geography. This was on a flat plane next to a pond. Combined with the costuming, it's like hello, it's hokey Western orientalism again.

Casting.

Tony Leung. Perfect. Outstanding. Phenomenal. Sexy as hell. I have recovered fully from Lust, Caution. I see on Tiktok that westerners are thirsting after him, and I am very satisfied. The "Killmonger-Loki" Effect is now the "Wenwu-Killmonger-Loki" Effect. I only wish he were younger, because I hate the "daddy" kink. Mr. Leung, you are a hero to Asian-American men. Thank you.

Awkwafina. Yeah she is pretty good as the unabashed ABC friend. But lately, I feel she has been over-used as the main Chinese-American actress. On some social media, I have seen Black users complain of her 'blaccent' and vow to boycott Shang-Chi in protest. I'm inclined to defend her, as it is probably what she grew up with, and the boycott feels like another attempt to draw moral hierarchical divisions between minorities. Similar sentiment is "yall didn't come out for Black Panther, why should we come out for Shang-Chi?". I don't have any data as to whether 'we' did come out for Black Panther, but I generally disapprove of POC factionalism.

Simu Liu. I'm glad that Westerners are thirsting over him too. I'm glad he's very enthusiastic and affable, and well-liked in the Asian-American community. He's us! And he got a shirtless scene! But the catch is...he doesn't fit the current Chinese standard for "hot guy actor".

From the majority angle: that's toxic af. He's hot enough, why are we being so picky with dumb Asian beauty standards? Will we ever properly support ourselves? Like damn, this is the first Asian-American lead in a goddamn Marvel movie, and this is how you treat him?? By the Heavens.

From the other angle: his eyes are small, his jaw kind of round, head kind of wide. Not the most masculine, but definitely not feminine. He's a normal Chinese-American dude. Chinese dude, Harbin, Heilongjiang born. Compare that to Chris Hemsworth, Chris Evans, Paul Rudd, Chris Pratt, Sebastian Stan, Chadwick Boseman, Anthony Mackie, etc. These are among the finest western specimens; why did the pick the Asian hero to be played by the 'normal-looking' dude? Was Jackson Wang not available? Or Ludi Lin? I personally have a suspicion that his appearance most fits the stereotypical look of an Asian man to Western audiences, and that's why he was cast.

He's received hate for this, from Reddit r/aznidentity, the sub that I frequent, which currently is cheering Shang-Chi's box-office success. That's toxic af, and must be heartbreaking for him. Unfortunately, it's part of the larger conflict of Western and Eastern media, representation, markets, and culture. And that's a big fish to wrangle in part 3.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 126

SYNOPSIS:  Jamie has whisked Claire away to a romantic getaway where she can recover from her incarceration at the hands of Jonathon Randall and the Rising Dragons.

Chapter 125 and all other chapters of this story can be found at …https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

THANK YOU for reading and I hope you will enjoy the chapters that are to come over the next couple of weeks as most are Jamie and Claire centred.

CHAPTER 126

 Claire gasped as Jamie turned into a remote airport where he’d organised a private Lear jet, for the next leg of their journey.  She was gobsmacked at the mode of transportation they were to board as she was sure that they were going to some remote location in Hong Kong for their convalescence.  What she thought was going to happen certainly didn’t, as they were not going to some isolated place but were to travel somewhere else only Jamie knew and he’d been very secretive and evasive about their final destination.

“Jamie … Where are we going?”  Claire asked when she saw that there was a jet plane waiting for its passengers. “The last time we were on a private jet, we were going to memories suddenly ran through her mind of her mission with Madame Cheung.

Placing his hand on her knee Jamie squeezed her leg and placed a kiss to her cheek.  “No Sassenach … ‘tis a surprise. Trust me mo ghràidh.  Ye are going to love it.”

“I do trust you Jamie.  I’m just inquisitive as to our destination.  If we are flying somewhere it can’t be too far away.”

“All in good time Sassenach. Ye shall see.”

Claire's radiant smile spread across her face as she looked away from him and pretended to study the scenery. "I guess I'll have to. But can you give me a little clue as to where you are taking me?”

“We should be there in about twelve hours. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Twelve hours!” Claire exclaimed in shock. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Just where are you taking me James Fraser?”

Their teasing interaction had distracted her and when she glanced up, she took better notice of their surroundings at the airstrip. With a wry smile on his face, Jamie drove toward a private hangar where a sleek white Lear Jet sat waiting on the tarmac with engines revving. The name emblazoned on the side of the jet gave Claire no hint as to their destination unfortunately so she could obtain no information there either. James Fraser didn’t say another word, he just merely grinned at her with a mischievous gleam in his eye as he bought the car to a halt.  They both got out of the vehicle and Jamie helped his perplexed partner up the short flight of steps into the plane as their luggage was placed in the cargo hold on the plane. Once inside, Claire’s eyes widened in surprise at the luxurious interior of the Lear Jet.  Beautiful veneer wood panelling, deluxe leather upholstered seats and amenities with anything you could think of for a long journey were provided.  The cabin was very high tech with touch screens indicating the location of the features on the jet and there was even a decent-size galley with an oven and espresso machine. The rear cabin consisted of two recliners and a sofa and a bedroom and bathroom were located to the rear as well.

Her lips parted as a soft exclamation of amazement burst forth as Jamie led her to her plush leather seat in the cabin.

With her hand to her mouth she looked at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness, “Oh, Jamie …”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sitting her down comfortably in her seat Jamie then quietly spoke with the pilot as Claire strained to hear what instructions he was giving him. However, his conversation was impossible to hear and she was no further to knowing where the Lear jet was heading.

Damn you James Fraser!  How much longer are you going to keep me in suspense?

After a short conversation, Jamie returned to sit beside her and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Ready Sassenach?" he asked with a teasing grin on his face knowing that Claire was biting at the bit to know their destination.

"No. Not until you tell me where we are going that is going to take twelve hours to get there James Fraser," she replied jutting her chin out at him in feigned defiance.

But Jamie remained nonplussed.  He watched Claire in amusement as she then tried her feminine wiles on him to try and change his mind. Her gaze ran seductively down the length of his body as she began to undress him with her eyes before returning to lock with Jamie’s blue eyes that were attuned to what she was doing.

He chuckled at her attempt to garner information as to their destination and with a mischievous twinkle in his eye replied somewhat cryptically, "Somewhere warm." Then taking her hand in his he lightly ran his thumb over her palm. "That's the only clue I'll give ye Sassenach." His piercing, blue eyes watched Claire’s expressive face as anticipation crossed her features coupled with a beaming smile.

"But I don't have anything appropriate to wear in warm weather Jamie.  If only you’d said something earlier, I could have packed accordingly," she admonished breathlessly fluttering her eyelashes and biting her bottom lip at him suggestively.

Immune to her feminine wiles Jamie rolled his eyes in mock dismay at her attempt to goad him into telling her where they were bound. "I ken ye'd say that Sassenach. A new wardrobe has been arranged at our destination, but clothes are optional if ye’d rather.”

Claire couldn’t believe the words that had come out of his mouth let alone the seductive look he was giving her.  

“Why Mr Fraser. I do declare that you have left me quite flummoxed,” she replied with a rising inflection and an evocative smile.

Jamie raised her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “Good.”

His breath was warm against her hand, and it sent delicious sensations up her arm and travelled simultaneously to the pit of her lower abdomen where desire flamed with an ever-increasing intensity.

This is going to be a long flight, Claire thought as she rested her head back against the leather seat and closed her eyes while thoughts of being naked with the virile man beside her filled her mind with delicious possibilities.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Unbeknownst to her, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser had organised a two-week romantic getaway for his Claire in Tropical North Queensland Australia at a private and unique waterfront villa overlooking the Whitsunday Islands, mountains and an aquamarine harbour. It was the ultimate destination accommodation for them to enjoy the privacy, romance and serenity of this beautiful piece of paradise.  He thought that not only could they both relax and enjoy the tranquil setting but it was a place as far away from Section One as they could get. They both needed time to recuperate from their wounds and Claire especially needed a peaceful, calm and beautiful setting, in which to erase her demons of what had happened to her at the monastery.  

It was also the perfect and tranquil place to base themselves if they wanted to be a normal couple and go exploring all the treasures that the Whitsunday and Great Barrier Reef region had to offer. There were many places to visit and things to do: an abundance of national parks, turtle spotting, sailing, sea kayaking, mountain biking, swimming in the local waterhole at the base of Cedar Falls, rainforest walks, crocodile safaris, as well as enjoying the many cafes and restaurants the area had to offer if they were inclined. But if they didn’t want to leave their villa accommodation they could simply stay home, give each other a massage beside their infinity pool, hop in the outdoor spa, go sailing or just enjoy the view of being in one of the most spectacular locations on the planet.

Their destination was an amazing place in paradise just a short drive away from Airlie beach in a very secluded spot that ticked all the right boxes for Jamie.  There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his Sassenach to help her regain that spark that had been severely damaged because of Johnathon Randall and the triad’s interrogation and torture at the monastery.  Claire needed to be somewhere as far away from those memories as possible and he knew he had found the right place for her to regain that carefree sprit of the woman who had stolen his heart.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fortunately, Claire was exhausted and had slept most of the way on their journey to Australia and then on to the Whitsunday Coast Airport situated just outside the town of Proserpine. Jamie picked up a pre-arranged hire Land Rover for the approximate thirty-minute journey to their destination near Airlie Beach the gateway to one of Australia’s most prised natural wonders, the Great Barrier Reef and Whitsunday Islands.

It was not long before he saw the road leading to the property about a half mile off the road and slowed his speed in preparation for the exit. As he veered their vehicle onto an isolated road the wheels sent up clouds of dust around them, partially obscuring the view. Slowing down he steered the SUV along a winding dirt trail caressed by tall gum trees at a more leisurely pace. They travelled for some distance and it seemed they were going deeper and deeper into the tropical rainforest. It was peaceful and quiet out in the open, with the only civilized sound being that of the Land Rover’s engine purring like the sound of a steady heartbeat. Claire could also hear the laughing sound of kookaburras and the screech of the sulphur crested cockatoos as they passed under a canopy of gum trees along the remote track. The sunlight was getting dimmer but they could still see well enough without turning on the SUVs’ lights. Jamie drove along until he came to a clearing in the distance. With the dwelling in sight, he slowed the speed of the land rover as he drove closer. As he approached the clearing, he manoeuvred the vehicle until he pulled the car up to a beautiful waterfront villa nestled into the side of a hill amongst lush vegetation. It was a lovely two-storey modern home made from timber and sandstone with large picturesque windows that overlooked the panoramic sea view.

Claire stared in awe at the beautiful residence located in this stunning setting with oceanic views. It was so lovely and peaceful here; it was certainly a dream location and she just knew that their time in this particular place was going to be wonderful for their sanity and peace of mind. The panorama was spellbinding. Taking in her surroundings she noticed a winding crushed granite path leading up to the front of the villa. Beautiful stone carvings were positioned amongst the foliage and she could see a lovely water fountain nestled amidst the ferns in the garden as well. It had a serene and relaxing Zen ambience about it and Claire immediately fell in love with their accommodation and more in love with James Fraser for bringing her home to Australia and this magical place to recuperate.

It had been such a long journey here and she couldn’t really comprehend fully that Jamie had actually organised this trip and brought her here to the Whitsunday Islands and the Great Barrier Reef.  This stoic man who was a cold-blooded killer for Section One had turned into a hopeless romantic just for her and she couldn’t love him any more than she already did. This place of private surroundings and anonymity was just what they needed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stopping the vehicle, Jamie removed the key from the SUV’s ignition and got out of the Land Rover in order to help Claire from the passenger’s seat. He opened the door and giving her his hand, he helped her get out of the car.  Smiling at his chivalrous gesture Claire leaned towards him and taking his hand in hers she alighted from the SUV. As she did so, Jamie couldn’t help but notice that her eyes had welled up with unshed tears.

“Are ye okay mo nighean donn?” he asked concerned that she was upset.

“Yes … Yes, I’m fine Jamie,” she replied so softly he barely heard her words.

“Then what is it mo ghràidh that has made ye so emotional?”

Claire looked up at his worried face. “Nothing … everything,” she sighed her eyes glistening with tears that started to trickle down her cheek.

Jamie was taken aback not understanding the underlying cause of her tears.  Was it just the jet lag kicking in or was it something more? Had Claire been thinking about her incarceration or her time in Med Lab?  It could have been a gamut of reasons and he was at a loss for something to say that would ease her distress.   However, before he had a chance to say something more Claire spoke again.

Wrapping her arms around his waist she leaned up and kissed him on his lips.  “Oh Jamie, this place is perfect.  I love it.  It’s paradise and I can’t thank you enough for bringing me here.”

“Aye, ‘tis.  I’ve been told that the amazing view is constantly changing with the tides, tropical weather and passing boats coming in and out of the harbour with the backdrop of the beautiful mountains.”

“Oooh, maybe we might even be able to catch sight of some sea turtles, whales or dolphins.”

“We just might see some wee beasties Sassenach, maybe even some water horses,” he added with mirth in his voice and reminiscing of the mythical beasts of Scottish folklore tales told to him as a young boy.

“I really don’t think they have water horses in Australia Jamie,” Claire said laughing, her mood decidedly different to when they first arrived.

“Aye, yer probably right mo nighean donn, but nonetheless they have other strange animals here do they not Claire?”

“That is true,” she replied her mind however was again focused on the place where she was now. “It’s beautiful here Jamie and I can’t wait to spend fourteen days with you in this magical setting.  It's so stunning that I really won't want to leave.”

His heartbeats quickened as Claire’s arms tightened around him even more and he returned her kiss with one of his own.  “I’m glad my love. This place is going to be our sanctuary for two weeks and we can do as much or as little as we want.”

An enigmatic smile suddenly bowed her lips just like it had before on their journey here. Jamie couldn’t quite decipher the look that now crossed her face or what hidden meaning she had attached to his words, but knowing that her tears were happy ones he guessed that she quite liked where he had brought her for their recuperation. He felt good and wondered if indeed her thoughts had actually been of an intimate nature because his thoughts had certainly gone there with his reply. When she spoke, he knew that he was correct in his summation.

“So, clothes are optional then Fraser? Claire whispered softly as her eyes captured his in a penetrating look.

“Aye … Aye … they are Sorcha,” he replied against her lips before giving his Sassenach another penetrating passionate kiss that sent her mind reeling with a myriad of thoughts and possibilities.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jamie took Claire’s hand entwining his fingers with hers and led her along the meandering gravel path and foliage that stopped at a staircase leading up to the entrance of the waterfront villa. They climbed the stairs hand in hand until they reached the top landing. Standing on the covered decking Claire looked out at the setting and inhaled the fresh, sea air as she waited for Jamie to unlock the door.

Raising their joined hands to his lips he placed a chaste kiss to Claire’s knuckles reluctant to let go, then smiling at her he announced, “Wait here honey while I fetch the key.  The real estate agent said he would leave it under the potted plant on the deck.”

There was a stunning multi-coloured “Sassy,” a topical flowering Heliconia psittacorum plant on the deck and lifting the plant up, Jamie found what he was looking for.  Placing the key in his hand, he looked at Claire intensely before inserting it in the door.   Stepping inside, he held the door ajar for her to preceded him into the house, before closing the door behind them. However, it was more than just the act of shutting a door, it was shutting out their life at Section One, a life they’d left behind for two weeks for one of normality without surveillance. Standing quietly by he watched his love closely waiting for her initial reaction.

As he stood there Jamie’s gaze caressed his Sassenach from the top of her lovely brown hair falling around her shoulders to the tip of her fashionable ballet pumps.  

This woman was heaven-sent and he could barely understand how much she had changed his life.  Claire Beauchamp was an angel and far too good for Section One.  She spread happiness wherever she went despite the fact that she too was a trained killer. Section One had tainted his life until he was but a robotic shell of a man.  That was until Claire had come into his life and turned it upside down.  It was this angel who had made him realise he was indeed worthy of love and being loved and reciprocating that love in return.

Claire Beauchamp was his lifeline, his soulmate, his reason for existence. His life was forever changed because of her because his Sassenach was his light in the darkness that once ruled his life.

He never tired of casting a surreptitious glance at her when in Section and any clandestine meeting was carefully executed so as not to alert their superiors Operations and Madeline.  Claire was unlike any other operative and when she laughed, her whole face lit up and it filled his heart to bursting.  Their feelings were suppressed in Section because they were under constant surveillance but Claire still managed to shed light in a world where there was none.  Murtagh adored her as too did Fergus because his woman saw the good in people and because of her personality operatives gravitated to her and none more so than those two individuals.  He’d observed her talking with Murtagh especially and saw how her eyes would sparkle with the joy of being with people she loved and admired.  He knew that Section’s weapons’ expert was a father figure to her and that Claire was like a daughter to him.  For Murtagh Fitzgibbons to volunteer to go back into the field was rare, but he did it for his Sugar because she meant the world to him and Murtagh would do anything for her and by association, for him as well.

Operatives in Section admired her and he knew why.  

Claire Beauchamp bucked the system but still performed her duties with her conscience still intact. She was everything that others were not because she still had humanity for innocent life but abhorred the evil that people perpetrated.  Claire had ideals and a moral compass that was sadly lacking in their leadership at Section One … and because she questioned things and opposed the rules, she was a threat to the order that Madeline and Operations had created with their leadership style.

Jamie reluctantly severed his gaze from his Sassenach and observed her body language as she cast her eyes around the room.

“Why don’t ye sit yerself down on the settee while I go and collect our belongings from the SUV? I won’t be long and then I can show ye around the villa Sassenach.”

“I wonder if there is any whisky? I could do with a drink after our long journey and a bath would be nice too.  Is there a bath Jamie?”

“Not sure, but I ken there is a Jacuzzi.  Will that do?”

“Hmm, Sounds good. Hurry back Fraser … I just might let you share.”

Giving her an enigmatic smile, Jamie hurried down to the Land Rover and retrieved their suitcases from the boot of the car.  Racing up the stairs two at a time he placed their belongings down in the entrance before opening the door once more. He then picked up the suitcases and placed them inside the entrance before closing the door behind them. Jamie then made his way into the lounge area where Claire was waiting for his return.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Did ye find any whisky Sassenach?”

“No, but there was a bottle of champagne plus nibbles and cheese. There was also a note addressed to you Jamie.”

“Perhaps we can christen the Jacuzzi with that bottle of bubbly then Sassenach.  It will soothe those tired limbs,” he stated seductively with an ulterior meaning underlining his words.

“Oh, that would be nice Jamie but perhaps later,” Claire replied ignoring his innuendo and looking around their magical accommodation, smiling and liking what she saw very much. She glanced Jamie’s way and her face was beaming with delight but her head was swimming with questions.

“How did you find this place?”

Jamie came nearer and nearer to Claire holding her gaze as with each step he took.  “I saw it online on an Air B&B site; I noticed it because it was secluded and had a private beach and marina as well as being some distance from a populated area.”

“It’s definitely in a most stunning setting. No wonder you chose to stay here Jamie.”

“I’m so happy that ye love it Sassenach.  I thought ye would.”

“Who owns this property?”

“Caitriona and Sam Heughan did …”

He gave her an inscrutable look which only piqued her interest as to why he was hedging his reply. Leaning into her personal space Claire felt that Jamie was going to reveal something significant especially with such a piercing look he was giving her. And he did.

“… but I do now.” Claire’s eyes widened in shock for his answer had caught her by surprise.  “Really?”  Her flabbergasted answer solicited his next reply. “And I also bought the adjacent property as well because it’s so serene, peaceful and quiet here.  It’s private and secluded in a beautiful tropical location Sassenach and a perfect place to forget the world we inhabit as Section One operatives.” Claire looked at Jamie as his words finally seeped into her brain. James Fraser, the cold murderer of Section One had purchased a property that was the complete antithesis of everything that Section stood for.  This place really was a refuge away from their constant life under surveillance and where their every move was monitored.  This place was an oasis away from the world of espionage and covert operations and was a home where they could just be a normal couple.

In return James Fraser scrutinized the look that passed over her features as his Sassenach contemplated what he had just said.  He was eager to get her opinion.  “Do ye like it Sassenach?”

Instead of immediately answering Claire walked around the main room they’d entered; she took inventory of what was in the seaside house while processing the information Jamie had just volunteered. Her mind was trying to make sense of the fact that James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser had purchased this property.  She turned to look at this secretive man who still stood quietly watching her actions with a little satisfied smirk on his face. Jamie gave her a penetrating look trying to gauge her feelings on the matter of the house.  

A smile bowed her mouth.  “I do like it Jamie.”  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Claire looked at her love with a contemplative look in her eyes trying to work out this enigmatic man. Tilting her head, she perused him from head to toe then ever so slowly she raised her glance to his lean hips before lingering on his muscled chest.

James Fraser’s body was so mighty fine that just looking at him made her heart flutter with wicked thoughts. She knew what Jamie looked like naked and what it felt like to run her hands over his chest. Just the thought of gliding her fingers through his chest hair and over his warm skin sent her heart beating faster.

She inhaled a raspy breath and forced her body to try and stay calm but she was finding it decidedly difficult in his presence.  

This man was in her blood and just the way he was looking at her sent shivers down her spine.  Her errant thoughts about his hands whilst driving had conjured up way too many ideas of the erotic nature and now just looking at him was having the same effect on her equilibrium.  If he continued to provoke her in this way, she wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of avoiding Jamie’s advances particularly in this idyllic setting.

Finally, Claire managed to control her breathing and lifted her gaze to his eyes.

Jamie was watching his love with amusement. Although he had no idea where her thoughts had travelled nevertheless, he could hazard a guess to where they went.  The look in her eyes was suddenly dreamy and he was aware that she was going off on one of her tangents yet again.  This happened quite a lot when she looked at him.  It was as if she was imagining what he looked like naked and he couldn’t deny the feelings that thought gave him.  He knew that his Sassenach was mulling over some very racy thoughts in her head. He could tell by her shallow breathing, the flush that hugged her cheeks and especially by the dilated pupils that greeted his scrutiny when she finally had the courage to look at him.

“I’m glad,” he replied biting his tongue to stop himself from laughing out loud at her inner turmoil.

“Come on Fraser show me around before it gets too dark,” was Claire’s daring response despite the fact that her heart was racing and she was fighting inner demons that seemed to mock her foolishness when in this man’s presence.

This time, however, he did laugh and pulled her into his arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well then Miss Beauchamp …,” he replied resting his forehead against her as he held her tightly to his chest.

Claire began to melt in his arms and could feel the pounding of his heart muscle against her chest. Jamie too could feel the vibrations of her heart beating in response to their closeness. The sound of air entering and leaving her lungs only exacerbated her shallow breathing and Jamie could feel Claire’s warm breath kiss his cheek as they gazed into each other’s eyes. He wanted nothing more than to kiss his brave woman senseless until she lost all consciousness, but now was not the time.  There would be plenty of time for that later.  “… perhaps we can start right here.”

“Here?” Her nerves were all off-centre and the way Jamie was holding her close was not making matters any better.

Placing a light kiss to her forehead, he released her from his embrace. “Aye, mo ghràidh.  We can start here in the main living room unless … ye would like to start … in the bedroom?”

“Oh? … Okay … Here sounds just fine,” she muttered almost at a loss for words because if innuendo was Jamie’s game then she was in trouble.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* to be continued on Friday 12th June

[mattzerella-sticks]

Slide (1.3k, Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, post-canon fluff)

Suptober Day 9 - Electric (ao3)

           Halfway through the second chorus, between the shimmy-dip and the kick-turn, it hits Dean. Barrels him over like a runaway train that nearly makes him lose count and miss a step. He recovers, keeping time with the music. Not drawing any suspicion or undue attention. But Dean felt like all eyes should be on him, even though it wasn’t his day.

           It was his brother’s, and contemporaneously his new sister-in-law’s, too.

           Sam and Eileen wed hours ago. Near the Bunker, between two large trees with fairy lights strung on the branches. Dean stood by Sam’s side in their best suits as they both watched Mildred walk Eileen down the aisle, wearing a simple white lace dress that midway on her calves and holding a bouquet of Easter Lilies. His brother grinned wider than Dean ever saw, even though twin trails of tears ran across his face and his shoulders shook with the force of earthquakes. Continuing even when Eileen reached the make-shift pulpit, cheeks equally shiny. All throughout Bobby’s sermon Sam sobbed quietly. He warbled his vows, forgot simple phrases in sign, missed Eileen’s hand several times while putting her ring on – his emotions getting the better of him. Well inside never running dry. It made the entire affair beautiful, although the kiss was far wetter than Dean cared for.

           Thankfully Sam stopped crying during the walk back. Maybe because of how, the entire way, the newlyweds never let go of each other. Or perhaps the secret signing Eileen did the trick. Fingers pressed into the skin along the open vee of his button-down, calmed Sam enough that he could take one breath without shuttering. Whatever the case, Dean was grateful. Because Sam could sob all he wanted during the wedding, but there were no room for tears at the reception.

           Their guests gathered in the Bunker’s main room. Converted for such a special occasion. Map table blanketed by a huge, white tablecloth found in storage. It held all the food Dean and Jody spent preparing days before, as well as the three-layered wedding cake. It was surrounded by smaller tables, where groups could settle as they ate, conversed, and took breaks when their feet tired of dancing.

           Dean, despite his age, refused surrender.

           Charlie barely waited for Sam and Eileen to finish their first dance, switching the music for something upbeat. The makeshift dance floor crowded as everyone joined. Even those like Bobby and Claire overcame their gruff exterior and let the music flow through them. Weddings were a treat, especially in the hunter community. No one wasted moments like these. Where the outside world, its monsters and shadows, faded into the background. Forgotten, because nothing bad could happen during something so good.

           Dean whooped, he jumped. He krumped, sprinkled the lawn, and did the damn robot. Using a catalogue of moves better left in the past where he found them, Claire snorted into her drink. Dean heard her but didn’t care. He was enjoying himself.

           Cas was, too. Though not the best dancer, he egged Dean on. Telling him which moves he liked and laughing as Dean repeated them, exaggerating the movements. Dean tipsy on the atmosphere and the fourth glass of wine and more that he thought little of how much a fool he looked.

           Especially when the playlist changed, and an old standard came on.

           “Everyone!” he clapped, drawing attention, “Everyone, set yourselves up!”

           The few who recognized the song, like Dean, listened. Others stood around confused, mirroring their elders regardless. “What’s going on?” Patience asked, “What are we doing?”

           “The Electric Slide,” Jody said, nudging her, “it’s really easy. Just follow along!”

           Cas found Dean, tugging on his sleeve. “The Electric Slide?” he asked, “What’s that?”

           “It’s a sort of line dance,” he explained, helping Cas spread himself. Still clueless on matters of personal space. “We’re all gonna be doing the same dance, and it’s quick to pick up. Trust me.”

           He nodded, although Dean doubted he fully understood. Unfortunately, they ran out of time. The song truly started, and so did they.

           There was a learning curve. Dean noted Cas struggling in the beginning, watching Dean do the moves. Cas’s body horribly copying his. But as Dean said, it’s not that hard. With every turn, Cas gained confidence. Steps were faster, more assured, and Cas looked less thoughtful – fully present in the moment. He kept staring at Dean though, blue finding green. Cas danced with crinkled eyes and a mega-watt smile. Laughing along with everyone else, but different than the rest. In on a joke no one else knew. Beautiful. Dean wished he had his phone, to take a picture of Cas. Then, he wished this song would never end. That Cas could stay like that forever. It was the next wish, a simple prayer, that did it.

           The song fades, and the crowd breaks from the pattern. Back into the clusters they originally were in. Swaying with the slower rhythm.

           Dean stands there, frozen on the dancefloor. He couldn’t dance – couldn’t move – all other higher functions short-circuiting, systems crashing. Mind playing a constant loop of an unprompted desire, freely admitted.

           I wish he could look at me like that forever.

           He reboots, drawn back into reality by a hand on his shoulder. Cas’s expression shifted; brows drawn in worry and lips curled. “Dean?” he asks, “Are you okay? Tired?”

           Dean smiles, stepping closer. Looping his arms around Cas’s shoulders. It is a wedding, after all. “Nah,” he shrugs, “I can go all night. Dance with me?”

           Nodding, Cas slides his hands onto Dean’s waist, their weight a delightful pressure. They’re silent for a few moments, the music talking for them. Until Cas finally asks the question that marred his face with stress lines. “What were you thinking about?”

           “What was I thinking about?” he repeats, guiding Cas towards the fringes of the crowd. Voice low, his next words only for them to hear. “I was thinking how we should have the Electric Slide play during our wedding.”

           Risky, but Dean’s willing. When will he have a moment like this again? If not here, Dean would most likely confess it during a hunt while covered in monster guts, or over C-grade burgers at a highway diner surrounded by a bunch of nobodies. That’s not how he wants to tell Cas.

           What he wants is this. Cas in his arms and vice-versa, dancing. Smiling. A memory he can replay years into the future. That, when his day comes, will be waiting for him behind a white door with his and Cas’s names on it.

           Cas glances at their family, and then back to him. Blushing, lips twitching as he fights against the giddiness that bursts inside. Dean aware of it by how tight Cas’s grip on his waist became. “Oh?” he asks, feigning seriousness, “Don’t you think that’s a bit too forward?”

           “What do you mean?”

           “Talking about our wedding when we haven’t even been on a date yet.”

           “Then let me take you on a date,” Dean says, “after that we’ll go pick out matching rings. And, since everybody’s here we can do a quick little something and Electric Slide our way into marriage.”

           His composure cracks, Cas snorting at Dean’s response. He dips his head, temples pressed against each other. Mouths close enough Dean might steal a kiss, if he were inclined. Not yet. Dean waits for an answer from the other man.

           “We’re not having our anniversary be the day after your brother’s wedding,” Cas says, “I want a day that’s all our own.”

           Dean agrees. “When were you thinking?”

           “Perhaps in the fall…”

           “I like that. A fall wedding sounds wonderful.”

           “And we can have it all, the ceremony and the reception, at a barn.”

           “We could have it on a freakin’ plane for all I cared, as long as you’re standing across from me.”

           “I love you, Dean.”

           “Love you too, Cas.”

[angelkyrrieobsioma]

•Personal Development Daily Journal

Reflection #10: “Monitoring One’s Career Development”

“20 years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”- Mark Twain

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world”. —Harriet Tubman

No matter where you are, where you came from, Your DREAMS ARE VALID. As a youth, when you have a dream that you can’t let go of, trust your instincts and pursue it. But remember that Real dreams take work, They take patience, and sometimes they require you to dig down very deep. So then, Just be sure you are willing to do that. In whatever you do, or dream you can, begin if. Life is full of opportunistic mysteries. Boldness has a genius power and magic in it. It all begins with love and becoming passionate in with the things we can do and might can. Never forget to always love what you do and do what you love. Reciprocate. Never listen to absurd words around you or anyone who tells you not to do anything. Focus on what you want and what you love. You do you. Imagination should be the center of your life.~~

17th of March 2021. Our last chapter with Personal Development and probably the best lesson takeaways that I’ve pondered far and wide. Career Path. ‘A career was described by Santos as having a job that suits the skills, the goals, and the personality traits that a person has. It could be a profession that the adolescent has always aspired for or it can be a means of earning an income.’ Career plans can help you make decisions about what classes to take, and identify the extracurricular activities, research, and internships that will make you a strong job candidate. The importance of career planning can’t be overemphasized. Having a career plan is crucial for every person aspiring to become successful in life. It is a multi-stage process that needs to be thoroughly planned and executed to reap the desired benefits. The features of Career Planing consists; Self Analysis, Opportunity Analysis, Goal Setting, and Creating a Strategy and implementing the action plan. In settling on educational and career decisions , students should be urged to consider both their inclinations and their abilities. In situations where interests are more grounded than abilities, understudies ought to be urged to think about systems for improving their abilities. As future freshmen we all want a secured path where almost everything is organized, set and is according to its right places. Almost everyday trying to figure out what we really wanted because were torn between chasing our Passion or Dreams. It is Viability versus Passion. By that case our decision-making process will shaken up hence becoming lost on our way to get there. Some students would also Plan ahead for their own contentment like building a house or family, marrying and even traveling. I’ve come up with this sort of interesting idea about way back in our high-school days our questions goes, “What strand are you gonna get?” “Which school you would take for senior high school?” And now to this, “From what university would you spend your college years? “, “What are your ambitions?”, “Which courses do you think is suitable for your dream profession?” Til then our answers will always be “I still haven’t decided yet. I’m so confused. I don’t think I can make it”. We are so coasted, worried and full of doubts, low self-esteem on taking our career pathways. Inevitably, a successful career is built along several components namely •Life goals, •Career planning, and •Career Development. Course Plan- While many students may be scared to start building a plan on their own, the reality is they have a lot of the knowledge and resources needed to get a head start. First, encourage yourself to review your college and career goals as you build your course plans. Additionally you may even come along again with these, “What prerequisites do I need for my desired college program or major?” “What pathway do I want to pursue?” “Are there special diploma requirements to meet?” Therefore initially asking these critical questions and take a first stab at creating your course plans challenges yourself to research options, problem solve and take ownership over the planning process. Pivotal linking is much independence in choosing high school courses is additionally an incredible introduction for picking courses in college. Once at college, students wont be approaching similar active help with their course choices. Long-haul thinking doesn't frequently start until middle adolescence, with a genuine spotlight on future profession decisions holding off on happening until late adolescence. Yet, with progressively complex requests and shuffling school and extracurricular responsibilities, figuring out how to prepare and focus on is basic. •Sources of Personality Traits May be from yourEnvironmental or Social Factors which Is not just the biological factors that play dominant roles in the formation of personality, social or environmental factors also affect its development. Generally, there are two types of cultures—the collectivist and individualist—that contribute to personality. Distinguishing the development

that you had as for having that career is inclined on a matter of perseverance, tolerance and how to achieve that goal. Miss KV once said that ‘Skies has no limit even if it takes years or the longest time, your future depends on you and upholds you.’ On the latter, we tend to become so goal- oriented that we have no sense nor focus on what’s happening or going on to where we’re going. DECIDE & DISCERN. Failures, discouragement, and rejection are some of the hurdles you may face while working towards your goals. Also, sometimes it takes way too long to successfully achieve your long term goals, which can take a toll on your confidence. This is where short term goals come into play. They keep reminding you the purpose of all the hard work you put in and keeps you focused.  If you have a long term goal comprising of valid short term goals, you can be assured of success. After completing your short term goals, you can set rewards for yourself to enjoy this success, and that will help you keep moving towards your goals.

The secret of success is not just to keep moving. The secret is to keep moving according to a plan to reach to a particular destination in life. The plan is often a combination of many short-term goals pointing in the direction of an ultimate goal. It doesn’t matter if you are in school, college or you are a working professional, having short term goals to attain a long term goal is always beneficial.

Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly. What is the point of being alive if you don’t at least try to do something remarkable?

No human ever became interesting by not failing. The more you fail and recover and improve, the better you are as a person. Ever meet someone who’s always had everything work out for them with zero struggle? They usually have the depth of a puddle. Or they don’t exist.

“Failure should be our teacher, not our undertaker. Failure is delay, not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead end. Failure is something we can avoid only by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.” - Denis Waitley 💜✨✨

@krishavanessa

[jadekitty777]

Luck of the Draw

So… I wrote this to deal with our latest episode. I have no excuses.

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 1500

Ao3 Link: Luck of the Draw

Warnings: This will break your heart. And has a bit of graphic wording.

Summary: [Spoilers for V7C12] In the aftermath of the events at Atlas, Qrow is left grieving. Lost in his own mind, he’s not sure he’ll ever recover. Taiyang just does what he can to help.

~

“Qrow. Qrow.” Clover was calling him.

His voice tugged at Qrow as surely as Kingfisher’s line. Compelled by a panic he didn’t fully understand, he knew he had to follow it. If he didn’t Clover would be… he would be…

Snow crunched under his feet like bones, came away wet like blood. The blizzard around him was heavy and white, howling in his ears. His chest was constricted, by cold, by pain.

“-Row. …Qr-” No! Clover’s voice was fading.

He ran. He ran with everything he had. Opened his mouth to scream, but his frozen lungs wouldn’t give him the air.

No matter what, he couldn’t let it disappear. He knew if he did, Clover’d be lost.

And Qrow would be lost with it.

Something came into view. Gave him hope. The plane, broken, aflame. A light in all his blindness. Clover was here. He was here!

He hurried around the wreckage, only for his foot to catch on a corner of debris half-hidden in the snow. He fell, no one to catch him this time-

-And came awake with a jerk and a gasp.  

He stared up at the ceiling he didn’t immediately recognize, wooden slates that implied an almost country-like aesthetic.  A hand reached for him. He flinched but couldn’t stop its gentle touch on his forehead.

“You’ve got quite a fever, Qrow.” Tai’s voice was a low but familiar rumble. He’d used to find so much comfort in such a simple thing.

But as it all came rushing back, he didn’t know if he could ever find that peace of mind again.

After Atlas, after everything, they had retreated for recovery. There was nowhere else to go but home. He could hear various noises of activity throughout the house. Clanging from the kitchen, stomps on the stairs, a door shutting somewhere. It felt distant though, disconnected like he’d become, though he couldn’t remember when. Only vaguely did he remember parts of the plane trip. Snapshots of scenery as they flew over Vale. Yang desperately asking him to speak. Ruby checking in on him.

Remembered with more crystal-clear clarity than he wished to how Tai’s face twisted in sorrow at the very sight of him. But even as his brother called his name, over and over, Qrow could not find his voice.

He felt like he was lost in a permanent state of inebriation without ever touching a drink. The days were passing in a blur. How many had there been now? Two? Three? Seven? He felt lost to time, out of control. He was present now, but would he be in an hour? He didn’t know, he didn’t know.

He wanted to be scared of it, but everything hurt so much every time he came awake, that all he wished was to retreat back into nothingness.

At the moment, Tai didn’t seem so inclined to allow that. “Come on now. I brought some medicine.” The bed dipped with his weight, an arm winding around his shoulders, pulling him up. The room around him seemed to spin into lucidity, until Qrow could pick out the knickknacks and photos that weren’t his. The desk with papers waiting for grading piled atop it. He was in Tai’s room.

He accepted the glass and the pills as they were handed to him, swallowed them down on instinct and tried to hand the mostly full glass back to the other.

Tai pushed it back, his voice still holding that gentle tenor. “I’d really like it if you drank more.”

Reluctantly Qrow held it under his chin, staring down at the water as it rippled in his shaky grasp. Why did… this feel like they’d done this before?

As he took a weak sip, it came to him.

So many years ago, almost untouchable in their length behind him, there was a time they’d been reversed. When it was Tai in this bed, on his worst days, unwilling to move, unwilling to speak. Remembered the days he’d spent trying to take care of him as his brother grieved a lost love with such ferocity the world around him failed to matter. And what had Qrow eventually done?

The glass slipped from his hand.

Tai caught it, droplets spilling onto the blankets. Set it aside, out of view.

He looked up at Tai, wordless.

He remembered it. Remembered how a day came where he’d let his frustration rule him. How he’d screamed at the blond to get up, that he couldn’t waste away wallowing in grief. Qrow had thought he knew this pain. Had eventually grown to feel his friend’s mourning was unwarranted. How could he not be able to stand up, when the rest of his family was moving on?

Now. Now he knew he hadn’t understood even a fraction of how much it hurt. To love and to lose. How it injured the soul until every fiber of his being felt like it was ripping apart.

His vision blurred. What a terrible, awful person he was. How did he deserve this family?

��How did he fool himself enough to think Clover, sweet, wonderful Clover, ever deserved someone as cruel as him?

“Qrow?” Tai sounded alarmed.

Oh, he was crying.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke for the first time in days, voice rasped from disuse. Hung his head as a sob broke past his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Tai’s arms were around him immediately. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just some water.” He joked feebly.

Qrow shook his head. Tried to pull away, but the other held fast. Gave up and melded into the embrace as he choked on his own tears. Clung to him like he was the only lifeline he had left.

Another whisper cracked from his heart, “It hurts. I want it to stop.”

“I know.” Tai murmured, tucking him in closer. Squeezed him tightly as if trying to wring out all the pain himself. “It’s okay, I’m here. Yang and Ruby are here. We got you.”

“But he’s not. And it’s all because of me. His aura broke because of me.” He carried on, hysterically. “It’s my fault. It’s always my fault.”

He felt Tai’s chest swell in a heavy sigh, breathing the way Clover couldn’t. Remembered the stark red blood. The grotesque way his sword punctured through his torso. The-

Fingers threaded through his hair, yanking just enough to pull him out of his sickening thoughts. “I know you can’t believe me right now, but it wasn’t your fault Qrow.”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know. Y-You didn’t hear, how he-” His stomach twisted. He couldn’t go on. Clover’s haunting words of wanting to trust in him, the painful desperation tinged in every syllable just moments before the end, were his burden to bear.

Tai pulled back, his arms holding onto his shoulders and, when he refused to look up, ducked down enough so they could see eye-to-eye. “But I know you. I know the Qrow Branwen who would rather force himself to be alone then let any hurt befall those he cares about. The Qrow that would take the most rigorous and thankless missions to protect a world he’s felt rejected him.” He reached up, rubbing away some of his tears with his thumb. “The you that loved so deeply that your heart broke over it.”

Qrow’s lips trembled, barely containing another sob.

Tai’s gaze remained soft and soulful. “So I know, without a doubt in my mind, that you would never intentionally hurt someone you allowed that close to you.”

He wanted to believe it. Wanted to hold onto that possibility that among all the bad, there was still something good about himself he could hold onto. But then he thought of Clover, gasping his final breaths in the bloody snow, and any hope he may have had flew out the window faster than his own wings ever could.

Fresh tears tracked down his face. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” Tai declared. “But I’ll keep telling you until you remember it too.”

The argument tethered on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t have the strength to break it free. Instead, he just looked away.

“Qrow?” Tai asked as the minutes passed in silence. When he didn’t raise to answer, there was a sigh, “Okay. It’s okay. You did good.” The bed moved as he stood. “I’ll leave the water. Try to finish it, okay?”

Qrow felt a kiss on the top of his head, a gesture his friend most often reserved for his daughters.

Said, just before he headed for the door, “Hang in there, brother. It’s going to be okay.”

He wanted to believe him. By the Gods, did he want to believe him.

But as he was left alone, just as it always should have been, all Qrow could do was curl up into himself and let the hurt take him.

[truthbeetoldmedia]

iZombie 5x13 "All’s Well That Ends Well" Review

Hello friends, are we ready to say goodbye? I was a little nervous coming into this finale, seeing as there was so much to wrap up, and therefore...much to mess up. As a result, the pacing was indeed a little strange, but some minor characters get some hero moments, and it was all setting up a final ten minutes that essentially functioned as an epilogue that sealed the series. 

Okay, let’s dig in. Enzo has taken over Fillmore Graves and has declared war on humans. Dolly and her people have responded in kind, going around New Seattle taking out high ranking zombies. While gunfire rains over the city, Ravi, Clive, and Liv are returning from Atlanta with the vial needed for the cure. 

Even though it’s risky, they choose to fly to get back faster. Liv’s plane seatmate is suspicious, insisting she’s seen Liv before. Even though the official heist is over, the trio show they still have a few smooth moves, and manage to slip a sedative into the woman’s drink so she’ll stop asking questions. As she sleeps soundly, her iPad drops to the floor of the cabin. She must have figured it out right before she’s knocked out — the flight attendant picks up the device and sees the browser is open to an article about Liv and her work as Renegade. 

When the plane lands, the flight attendant pulls Clive, Liv, and Ravi from their seats and introduces them to a Portland police officer. After a brief moment of anxiety, the flight attendant reveals they are siblings, and Liv saved their younger sister’s life by smuggling her into Seattle and turning her into a zombie. The officer offers to escort them to the Washington border as a thank you, and in hopes they can get back to Seattle quicker. Clive is happy to hear this, as he gets a message that Dale is labor with their baby. 

Major turns himself in to get a shot at securing the Max Rager, and luckily he still has one more ally back at Fillmore Graves. Lieutenant Collins has always been a steadfast supporter of Major, and she truly comes through in his hour of need. She helps him get past Enzo and his lackeys so he can get to the precious energy drink needed for the cure. As a result, Enzo executes her. Lieutenant Collins was always a background character, but she was one that I always respected and appreciated, and without her, Major wouldn’t have been able to make it out of Fillmore Graves alive. We’re pouring one out for her tonight. 

Meanwhile, Peyton is still being held hostage by Blaine. She helps the Freylich kids make a distraction by conking him over the head, and tossing the keys to Oliver, the older boy with a terminal illness. He drives the getaway car, but Peyton doesn’t quite make it out with the rest of them. The Freylich smuggler shoots at Peyton, and while she takes him out, he gets her too. Blaine runs out to see Peyton bleeding out on the ground. 

The kids make it back to the safe house, just as Liv and Ravi are arriving. When they realize Peyton didn’t return with them, they get emotional. Ravi nearly falls apart before Liv reminds them they have an important job to do. She tells Ravi to get to cooking the cure, and she would deal with Blaine. She promises to show no mercy. 

Luckily, Blaine’s obsession with Peyton serves her well in this instance. He turns her into a zombie and forces to eat a meal with him. It’s pretty incredible Peyton has survived this whole series without becoming a zombie, but I guess the virus comes for everyone eventually. Unfortunately for Blaine, he should have been more calculating about the brain he fed her. Don E watches Peyton while Blaine goes to visit the well on his father’s property (the one that also used to serve as his father’s prison). Don E is delighted when Peyton has her first vision, but in a dead-panned voice, she tells him she saw Blaine suffocating a girl with a pillow, wearing a wedding dress and calling for Don E. While we still never see the true circumstances of Darcy’s death on-screen, I’m more inclined to trust Peyton’s version of things than Blaine’s. It’s the last straw for Don E, who storms to the well and unceremoniously pushes Blaine in. “No one was ever going to love you,” Don E screams down the well. “I’m the only person who could stand you, and you killed my fiance.” Liv shows up just in time to see the show and she hesitates even less. She hurls a rock at Don E and her aim is true. Don E goes in the well right after Blaine. “Enjoy eternity together!” she sneers, just as she bursts into tears, grieving Peyton. One has to wonder, if this was all that it took to get rid of these two, perhaps it should have been done a long time ago. It certainly would have saved Liv a lot of headaches. I find that even though it was a simple death, it was a deserving one for Blaine and Don E. I was hoping for more of a redemptive moment for Don E, but it took him way too long to see the light, and he’s been complicit in Blaine’s schemes since the very beginning. By the end, he was a richer character, but still an evil one. I’m okay with those two being a little closer to hell now. 

Besides, it was all worth it for the moment right after. “How funny would it be if now I knocked you in,” Peyton says. Liv turns around to see her best friend, and the two reunite in a sweet hug. This moment made me a little emotional. These two college buddies have morphed into two very capable and clever young women, and they’ve been by each other’s side through the worst of it. 

Blaine and Don E may be out of the picture, but we but we aren’t even close to the end yet! Clive and Dale deliver a beautiful and healthy baby. It essentially takes them out of all the action, but I thought, for better or worse, it was a strong choice. I was glad I didn’t have to worry about either of them dying in the eleventh hour, and they were able to watch everything from their television screens without being in danger. 

Ravi finally creates the cure, and he and Major dramatically roll up to the local TV station. After a brief attempt at convincing Johnny Frost to take the cure, Major takes matters into his own hands.  “I’m here to prove to the people that it’s over,” he says. He strikes a deal. Major will take the cure, and Enzo can shoot him in the chest in front of everyone. If he dies, it proves he’s not a zombie. It’s just the kind of stupidly heroic thing that Major would do, and Enzo takes him up on it. Major takes the cure and Enzo shoots him more times than can be counted. It’s traumatic, and they really had me believing that our boy was probably dead. Ravi tackles Enzo and manages to cure him. Graham, who had been sneaking around the background the entire episode, appears and shoots Enzo in the head, avenging his boyfriend. A Fillmore Graves officer takes him out, and chaos breaks out. RIP sweet teacher Graham. Outside the TV station, there’s intense gunfire being exchanged between Fillmore Graves, Dead Enders, and Dolly’s CHICS. Inside, the power goes out. 

Ravi crawls over to what appears to be a lifeless Major, while we listen to a voicemail he left for Liv. He says goodbye because he doesn’t think he’ll survive his latest world-saving stunt, but she’s always been the love of his life. Just when I was beginning to choke up and start preparing for a life without Major Lillywhite, he softly croaks, “You tricky son of a bitch, what was in that syringe you gave me.” Ravi admits that he gave him a vial of straight up Max Rager, but promises him that “next time, it’s all yours.” 

Liv is back at the station, bawling while listening to the voicemail and believing Major is dead. Strangely, Michelle comes into the morgue and asks Liv if she’s okay. The moment is brief and someone breaks into the morgue and sets off a huge explosion. And then suddenly, we are ten years into the future. 

At first, I was a little let down. This is absolutely the easiest way to wiggle out dealing with the aftermath of Dolly, the other fringe human groups, and all the other plotlines that iZombie didn’t feel like it wanted to deal with neatly. We don’t get to watch how Seattle apparently “repopulated, rebuilt, and rebranded” as we hear in a moment later. But my frustration was short lived, as the last ten minutes were devoted to my beloved core characters that I adore so much. 

Clive, Peyton, and Ravi appear on a virtual reality talk show, where a charismatic host asks them questions about their lives after the cure. As three people who had a front row seat to the events, the host wants to get their perspectives. It’s revealed that none of them stayed in New Seattle after the war, but they all went on to have very successful careers and marriages. Ravi and Peyton are a married couple living in Atlanta, she’s a lawyer and Ravi is head of the CDC. Clive and Dale are co-captaining San Francisco PD while raising their kid, as well as Michelle’s. Besides their lives prospering, the world has recovered from this chapter of history. The cure was distributed, and while some were cured, some are still living full lives as zombies. Dolly is still out there, but not causing trouble as far as we know.  While this is all lovely and good, this show really makes us sweat here. Where are Liv and Major? The host wants to know as well. The three of them insist that they are both lost to time, legends in their own right, and they miss them just as much as anyone. Liv died in the morgue’s suicide bombing, and while Major never lost hope that she’s alive, no one has seen him in ten years. They’ve accepted that Liv isn’t alive or that Major will never resurface, America will have to accept it too.  

Unless...

We see a flashback of Major returning to the safe house with the kids, and Liv meeting them there. They reunite with a passionate kiss, and even though things are still burning and they are covered in dirt and exhausted, things are right again. 

In the most “happily ever after” ending the show could have possibly delivered, Liv and Major are living their lives in private, in a huge mansion by the water, with all their little zombie children. Their friends are well aware of this, and are protecting them from the world at large with their reunion interviews. After the host disappears, Liv and Major appear in the virtual reality space, and after some light teasing amongst the group, they invite Clive, Peyton, and Ravi to their personal zombie haven. “All it takes is a scratch,” Liv says with a knowing smile. 

This show tackled more than it had a right to. It was convoluted, goofy, strange, exhausting, whimsical, outlandish, absurd, dark, and hilarious, all at the same time. But what grounded it at the center was the fact it never forgot about its core cast. At times they were given unfortunate character arcs, undercooked plots, and under-serving love interests. But in the end, we saw who they truly were. Ravi, the scientist with a moral compass. Peyton, the lawyer with clever smarts. Clive, the captain with a discerning spirit. And Major and Liv, the nurturers and protectors of zombie-kind, the best mom and dad friends you could ever ask for. I can’t express how happy I am the show ended with these five, standing tall and in love with each other, looking well-rested in paradise. It wasn’t an easy road, in fact sometimes it was a very frustrating road. But when I remember iZombie, I’ll remember it was a show about heroes, good over evil, and a really, really good meal.  I’m always going to have a soft spot in my heart for it. 

Stray thoughts 

“She’s googling The Good Place. She thinks I’m Kristen Bell.” “She’ll be sorely disappointed.” This gag was straight up gold. 

Those flamethrowers seemed especially cruel? Fire doesn’t kill zombies, but sure seems to be painful 

Collins, Graham, Oliver, and Michelle. All minor characters this season that had a Moment this episode. While most of these characters were overall underutilized in this series and season, I liked how each of them were used to tie things together. Oliver was the only one who made it out alive, however, and the rest of them definitely deserved better.

Did the suicide bomber think that blowing up the morgue would prevent creating more zombies…? That’s the only reason I can think why blowing up a fridge full of dead people could make sense. 

Wait this actually reveals a strange plot hole. Is there a limit to how long you’ve been dead before you can be scratched and be a zombie? I don’t remember this question ever explicitly being addressed. There was never an instance where anyone considered creating a zombie army from Liv and Ravi’s morgue.

Clive and Dale named their daughter Olivia. My HEART. 

Even though Peyton was okay, I’m glad we got to see Major comfort Ravi. Their bromance is truly one for the ages. 

“The way I make my decisions these days is asking myself what would Liv Moore do.” This couple is THAT supportive ship. 

I wish we had gotten better promo photos for this finale, or at least some more variety of scenes 

Even though it’s a little thin to believe that some people never turned back human and there are zombies still peacefully living among us (as well as Liv and Major, living outside), I actually didn’t mind it. They had to have some way to wrap up the problem of people who would die if they turned back into a human.

“I do miss you, partner.” “Vice versa, Clive.” Wow, ten years without Liv’s antics. I imagine that Clive’s productivity at work has gone way up, although I’m sure he sorely misses her crime-solving visions.

That’s a wrap for iZombie. What did you think? Favorite brains? Worst plot holes? Best shipper moments? Let me know your thoughts! 

Haley’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝.5

[takadasaiko]

Found (part two)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Set several months after Red's trial, the team is deep a dangerous struggle with the Cabal. Liz receives a strange call from law enforcement in Germany. They've picked a man up claiming to be her dead husband.

Part Two

She hadn't looked at him like that in years. The careful, cool distrust reminded him of the days in and following the boat. The days when she thought he was a stranger wearing her husband's face.

Tom didn't push his luck as Liz and Ressler went through the protocol to transfer him into their custody, the cuffs remaining on the whole time. While Liz did everything she could not to look at him, he kept catching Ressler glancing over, as if he were trying to assess for himself if he thought this was a set up or not.

They had come in Reddington's jet. The same one that Tom had inadvertently helped him scam off of a gunrunner. It had been some time now since he had spent much of his focus on Liz's would-be father. Early on he'd worried about what the imposter might do if he thought Liz knew, but as time had worn on Tom had redirected his limited energy to finding a way to get out, to get back to his family. He'd gotten close a couple of times, but with each failed attempt they had locked him down even tighter.

Now, as he was being led into the plane like a prisoner, he couldn't help but think about the man that had lied to Liz about being her father…. and the fact that she wouldn't listen to a thing Tom said about it until she was certain he was who he said he was.

Tom kept quiet as Ressler sat him down, gruff and cold, and took the seat across from him. Liz sat on the bench across, both with a clear view of him, but Tom had to turn if he wanted to look at Liz.

He waited until they were in the air before finally risking a look at her and then back to Ressler. "So… what have I missed?"

The question was as light as he could manage, and clearly not expecting a direct answer to it. He just needed to get one of them talking. He'd spent too long alone in the silence.

Liz didn't answer, and when Tom looked back, Ressler's eyes narrowed. The dark haired man sighed. "You know, if someone were going to use a double, it's a hell of a lot easier to sell a corpse that doesn't need to know anything."

"A corpse can't gather intel," Ressler answered stiffly.

Tom shrugged. "When I was undercover in Halcyon we had a case with body doubles. They were trained to fit in, surgically altered to look close enough to their doubles that they could pass, but they wouldn't have stood up to anything. There's only so much an operative can prepare for."

"Have you ever tried?"

Liz's voice was soft and Tom turned as best as he could to see her. "To fill in for an existing person? You know I have." He waited just a moment, and when she didn't acknowledge the statement he tried for a smile. "I was a dead ringer for a CEO's estranged kid. The ex wife had moved out to the West Coast with him years before and Bud sent me in."

"How old were you?" she prompted, and she looked like it was everything she could do not to latch onto the hope he could see just behind her eyes.

"Sixteen." He pulled in a breath, shifting at the uncomfortable angle. "I told you about it when neither of us could sleep one night. You were seven months pregnant and I was still recovering from when Gina had me shot. You said… that was the first time you told me you hated Bud, and that we'd keep our child safe. Together."

He could see tears start to brim and Liz shook her head.

"How would I know that, Liz? If it weren't me, how could I know that?"

"I don't know," she whispered, "but I can't…."

"Hey," Ressler called lowly, drawing his attention back around. "Enough."

He didn't know what it was, but there was something that had caused Liz to secure herself behind her walls. "It's more than just me, isn't it?" Tom asked softly.

There was a moment of hesitation before his wife's partner nodded. "Yeah."

Tom swallowed hard. "She said Cooper was the one to…. after we were attacked, what happened?"

Ressler hesitated just a moment before finally pushing a long breath from his nose. "She's was in a coma. For ten months."

Tom nodded slowly, settling back and processing what Ressler had said and all that came with it. That would mean she would have been unconscious during any kind of funeral that he might have had, and then by the time she woke up, the world would have moved on. Ten months and there was a good possibility she'd never really found a way to work through her grief, even if she'd forced herself to accept that he was gone.

There wouldn't be any convincing her. Not until she knew for sure. Once she did, once she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, she could let herself believe him and they would be alright. That moment couldn't come quick enough.

Years before, after Liz had found his go-box hidden in the floor of their home and had run her own investigation, they had brought Tom into the Post Office. He had been escorted in as a suspect in a murder that she had finally learned years later that he'd only been an accomplice to. Bag over his head, he hadn't been deemed dangerous enough at the time to warrant the box. The man they had brought in that day had, and Liz found herself watching him from the computer in her office.

He looked like Tom in every way, from the slouch of his shoulders to the way he tilted his head, blinking hard as if it would teach him for what came next. The way he paced the box, long fingers stretching and curling in an agitated manner. And his voice…. He had finally stopped talking on the flight over. Stopped trying to convince her. She wasn't sure that her resolve would have held if he had kept talking.

The story that he had told in the plane had looped in her mind the remainder of the flight, pulling her deep into the memory. They had laid stretched out together on the couch, her back against his chest, and there had been something about the way that Tom had told the story like it had been just another day in his childhood. He'd told it in the same casual tone that Liz might have described a summer trip to the beach with Sam when she was young. With their own child on her way, Liz had found herself boiling at the thought of Bill McCready and the way he had stolen Tom's own childhood from him. For manipulating and twisting it to his own gain, even if Tom didn't see it that way. Her husband had been surprised at the seething reaction and the conviction in which she had told him that they would protect their child together. He had tightened his hold on her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, promising her that they would.

But they hadn't. First she had left, leaving him to raise Agnes for the first month of her life, and then he had gone off to Halcyon…. and then he'd died. She had been so angry, so lost that she hadn't dared drag Agnes through it with her. She had nearly lost herself in pursuit of answers, and by the time she found herself as close to solid ground as she thought she ever would again, she was thrust into a the back half of a war with the Cabal. She, Reddington, and what was left of the Task Force were fighting for their lives and for their future. Losing wouldn't just mean their deaths, but likely Agnes' too.

And, if by some miracle Tom had found a way home to her, he would understand why she was hesitating. It was for Agnes. He would understand.

"Not only did you go, but you brought him back."

Liz looked up, tearing her gaze away from the screen to see Reddington lingering at her office door. She purses her lips together, weighing her answer. "I know you didn't want me to go… but I had to."

"You wanted to," he corrected, his voice a bit more gentle than his usual reprimands. He was trying, but the strain to do so was evident in the small twitch of his lips and his carefully chosen words. "I understand the…. desire to hope for the impossible."

"It's hard not to hope when the impossible happens to us. You were seconds away from death when Cooper convinced Diaz to stay the execution," Liz pointed out.

"Seconds away, but Harold didn't have to identify my body."

Liz grimaced at the reminder. "It could be him," she whispered, the hope desperate inside of her.

"The resemblance is remarkable, though appearances can be altered," he reminded her pointedly.

"But DNA can't."

"That could take some time to get back."

"Cooper's pulling some strings." She glanced up. "He knows things… things only Tom should know."

"Should. That doesn't mean that they haven't…" He stopped, and she could see him reining himself back in. She couldn't help to think back to the flippant manner in which he'd referred to her grief while they had both been in a race against the other for the bones. As they faced down a common enemy with the truth finally between them, she had seen his purposeful attempt to shift his approach to her. There were still moments that he spoke to her as a child, but there was a conscious effort to correct the behaviour. To make sure that they faced the Cabal as equals.

There was nothing flippant in his voice now, and she saw the pain reflecting in his eyes as he said, "They have always been willing to use the ones we love the most against us."

That doesn't mean it isn't him, she wanted to say, but didn't could force the words. She knew how many ways they had hurt him, how many times his own hope had been decimated. He was trying to protect her.

"Let me speak to him." She looked over, finding Reddington's gaze on her and his head bobbled a bit as he continued. "I'm less inclined to be…. Biased."

"There's something else. Something that has you convinced that it's not him. What is it?"

"Your husband was many things, Elizabeth, and foolishly sold on the idea that I was here to harm you was one of them. Yet he hasn't said a word about what he found on the DNA report, has he? The information he was willing to put both of you at risk so that he could get it to you."

Liz sighed, shaking her head. "If he is a double then you'll just be giving the Cabal a chance to-"

"If he is Cabal, we won't give him the chance to get back to them."

The meaning behind the statement weighed heavily between them, but Liz knew that if the results came back that he was anyone other than the man she had fallen in love with, if the Cabal had put a doppelganger into play to try to convince her that Tom was alive, she'd pull the trigger herself.

He had heard Liz talk about the infamous box that the Task Force had used over the years. It had held Reddington more than once, including when the man had used it to protect himself and Ressler from a man named Garrick had broken in. Kirk had been held there before his health had sent him to the hospital and his eventual escape, and Liz herself had been delivered and nearly killed in that same box. He was pretty sure that Alan Fitch had also met his end inside the walls. Tom hadn't even seen it before that day though. Now he found himself on the wrong side of the glass.

They had taken what they needed from him to run their tests and just left him. He had no doubt that they were listening and watching his every move, assessing every twitch and frustrated sigh that escaped him. None of the Task Force had shown up though, and he hadn't seen Liz since they had gotten there. That had to have been hours ago by this point.

The guard outside the box shifted, drawing Tom's attention on time to see a familiar figure enter. Just not the one he would have preferred.

Raymond Reddington strode into the room. He spoke to the guard who shot him a questioning look before moving away from the box, even if he hadn't left the room. Reddington's gaze flickered to meet Tom's, and the younger man found himself plunged into the last clear memory he had of the other: laid out on the floor of his and Liz's home, bleeding out, and Reddington stepping over him with his gun aimed. Tom had thought that he would end it all right there.

"My, even up close you strike a remarkable resemblance."

Reddington's voice pulled Tom from the memory and dark blue eyes met a lighter shade.

"I hear all the preliminaries check out. All the right scars, tattoos…and a depth of knowledge."

Tom loosed a breath that shook more than he would have liked, his temper starting to boil with each new word. "You're the one that has Liz thinking I'm some sort of double."

"Elizabeth isn't a fool. She knows the lengths our enemies will go to."

"And who exactly is that?"

That infuriating smirk tilted his lips. "I think you know that."

"How's that? Because from what I gathered, the guys that had me dropped me in that hole and left me there for two years. They didn't exactly keep me up to date on the news," Tom snapped, nearly slamming his fist against the thick glass, but stopping himself just in time. Breaking a hand wasn't going to do a damn thing to help him. When he spoke again he could hear the exhaustion he felt in each word. "I've been away from my family for two years. They thought I was dead. My wife doesn't believe me and I have no idea where my daughter is. Just… just tell me-" he looked up to the camera, speaking to Cooper or Ressler or whoever was listening now "- what do you need to know for me to prove it's me?"

"What you don't say speaks volumes," Reddington murmured, turning to leave.

As quickly as the fight had left him, it rushed back and Tom straightened. "Like what? Unlike you, I don't have anything left to hide. I'm exactly who I say I am, but you… No one knows who you are. You've fixed DNA results and people drop like flies around you if they know even a fraction of your secret, but I'm here, and I know what I saw on that test with the bones." Reddington turned slowly as Tom spoke, his expression more shocked than angry. Good. That must have meant Reddington had miscalculated. If he thought Tom was someone else or that he wouldn't dare put everything out in the open, it really didn't matter. "The people that had me might have bought you time, but Liz is gonna find out exactly who you are. Or who you're not. You don't get to keep lying to her."

"And who am I not?" Reddington asked and his tone was careful, as if he didn't dare give anything away that Tom didn't already know.

"The bones that Mr Kaplan dug up, the ones she sent to me to give to Liz… They belonged to Liz's father. The real Raymond Reddington."

He was being recorded. Even if Liz wasn't watching at this exact moment, the Task Force would know. They'd keep her safe. He couldn't touch either of them in here. The strange thing, though, was that he didn't look like wanted to. It took Tom a moment to push past the adrenaline rush that always came with facing down Reddington to see that he didn't look worried at all. He had never moved past the surprise.

"My word," Reddington breathed. "Tom."

TBC

Notes: So, apparently this will be a three parter lol

But hey, at least Tom inadvertently convinced Red of who he is?

[amithasan2019]

The Best Top 10 Action Movie 2020

The Best action movies List 2020

Who are we to watch the movie? So today I bring you the Shera 10 Movie of 2020. If you haven't seen it, Top new 2020 action movie that will make any person feel good. You can watch these movies on Netflix, let's see 2020 Most Popular Action Movie.

action movies on netflix Any Time Watch, Next Upcoming blog post The Best Top 10 thriller best action movies List and Watch netflix.

01. Bloodshot

In the wake of driving an effective salvage activity in Mombasa, US Marine Ray Garrison and his significant other Gina make a trip on an extended get-away to an Italian beachside town on the Amalfi coast. Notwithstanding, they are abducted by a gathering of hired fighters drove by Martin Ax, who requests to know the wellspring of the Mombasa prisoner activity. Since Ray is uninformed of this data, Ax executes him and Gina. Beam is later revived by Rising Spirit Tech, an organization that spends significant time in creating digital upgrades for debilitated US military work force. USA The organization's CEO, Dr. Emil Harting, reveals to Ray that he is the primary fruitful possibility to have been revived utilizing unique nanite innovation. Beam additionally acquaints himself with other Dr. Harting patients, including the previous US Navy jumper. USA "KT", with whom he becomes friends with, and previous assistance individuals Jimmy Dalton and Marcus Tibbs, with whom he gets along gravely. In the wake of encountering "flashbacks" of Gina and Ax, Ray escapes from Rising Spirit's research facility in Kuala Lumpur and seeks after Ax, looking for vengeance for Gina's demise. Utilizing the nanites to hack into the PC's databases, Ray tracks Ax to Budapest. In the wake of catching his caravan in a passage, Ray slaughters Ax's guardians before executing the soldier of fortune. He is later recovered by KT, Dalton, and Tibbs, who return him to Rising Spirit for reconstructing. Without a doubt, Harting made bogus recollections of Gina's demise as a major aspect of a plot to kill matches in Rising Spirit. After his recollections are deleted and reconstructed, Ray is sent to murder Nick Baris in East Sussex, "recalling" that he is Gina's executioner. Despite the fact that Ray figures out how to murder Baris and his protectors, Baris has constrained software engineer Wilfred Wigans to fabricate an EMP bomb, which lights up after Baris' demise, crippling Ray and cutting off interchanges with Rising Spirit. In the wake of "reviving" Ray, Wigans uncovers that Rising Spirit planted bogus recollections to transform him into a murdering machine. Beam finds that Gina is alive, yet that she left him five years back and began a family in Westminster. Progressively disappointed with Ray's abuse of Harting, KT looks for the assistance of the Wigans to overcome him. In the interim, Ray is recovered by Dalton and Tibbs after a pursuit. They return him to the Rising Spirit lab for reinventing, yet he escapes with the assistance of KT and Wigans, who harm the reconstructing procedure and Rising Spirit's PCs. Liberating himself, Ray battles Dalton and Tibbs on a lift. Dalton eagerly lets Tibbs pass on before proceeding with the battle until Ray hits him through the deep opening, murdering him. Beam goes up against Harting, who figures out how to deplete the nanites, however is killed when the second explosive he takes shots at Ray is disassembled by the nanites and falls legitimately to his feet. Beam is later reconstructed by Wigans and KT, and them three leave looking for another life.

02. Top Gun 2

After over thirty years of administration as one of the Navy's top pilots, Pete "Free thinker" Mitchell (Tom Cruise) pushed the envelope as a bold aircraft tester any place he seemed to be, and pushed the progression forward. At the point when he sees top open alumni take segregation preparing for a top strategic no other living pilot has ever observed, Maverick faces Lt. Bradley Bradshaw (Miles Taylor), call sign: "Chicken," Maverick's late closest companion and radar capture official LTJG is the child of Nick Bradshaw, known as "Goose". Confronted with a dubious future and the phantoms of his past, Maverick, inclining towards a contention with his own profound feelings of dread, shows up on a strategic requests a definitive penance from the individuals who will pick this plane.

03. Bad Boys for Life

Isabel Aritas, the widow of Cartel Kingpin Benito, escaped from a Mexican prison with the help of her son Armando. Isabel sends Armando to Miami, rescuing the amount of money that his father Benito hid, as well as arming him to arrest his father and kill those responsible for his death in prison. Isabel claims Armando will eventually kill Miami detective Mike Lore. Mike came to Miami with his partner Marcus Burnett for the birth of his first grandson. Wanting to spend more time with family, the elderly Marcus told Mike that he wanted to retire to Mike's Chagrin. Armando shot Mike during a party celebrating Marcus' grandson and left him in a coma for several months. Punished by Isabel for first targeting Mike, Armando made Mike’s “death” viral and continues to kill other targets on his list while Mike is alive. After Mike's recovery, he is determined to take revenge and has tried unsuccessfully to hire the now-retired Marcus, causing confusion among them. Mike violently gets the identity of arms dealer Booker Gracie from an informant. Realizing that he would not obey Mike's instructions to stay away from the investigation, Captain Howard reluctantly allowed him to work with the Advanced Miami Metro Operations (AMMO), a technology-led team led by Mike's ex-girlfriend Rita. While the team monitors Gracie in the arms deal, Mike determines that the buyers want to kill Gracie and intervene, but fails to save him. Later, Marcus is called by Carver Remy, an old informant who believes the killer is after him. Marcus contacts Mike and the pair travel to Carver but it is too late to save him. Armando escapes after a boxing fight with Mike. Captain Howard later revealed his intentions to retire and advised Mike that he should find another way of life. Moments later he was suddenly killed by Armando. The captain’s death pushed Marcus away from retirement, but he wants to work as a team with the AMMO. They look for Gracie's accountant, who takes them to Lorenzo "Jove-Lo" Rodriguez. They infiltrate to chase a destructive car at Javeo-lo's birthday party. Armando arrives in a helicopter to rescue Zway-Lo, but kills him when he hinders the ability to shoot Mike, who is following Armando. Armando called Mike "Hast El Fuego" as he cut the shot. The firing from Marcus made Mike cover, who fell into the river below. AMMO is closed due to failed operation. Mike has secretly revealed to Marcus that Armando could be his son. Before partnering with Marcus, Mike Aretis worked as an undercover officer in the cartel where he met Isabel. They fall in love and wish to run away together, using "Hast El Fuego" as a secret crap phrase. Mike was ultimately loyal to the police, realizing how dangerous Isabel had become. Despite Mike's opposition, Marcus and AMMO joined him in Mexico City to confront him. Hidalgo meets Mike Isabel at the palace and threatens her to hide the truth from him. A shot out quickly occurs between AMMO and Isabel's men. Marcus shoots the pilot of the helicopter supporting Isabel, it crashes into the central lobby and starts a fire, confronting Marcus Isabel starting, and Mike tries to explain the truth to Armando. Armando starts beating Mike, but he refuses to counter-attack. Claiming the truth from his mother, Isabel confirms to Armando that Mike is her father. Isabel unknowingly shoots Armando in the chest while targeting Mike. Enraged, he tries to finish Mike, but Rita intervenes and shoots Isabel, sending him to fall into the flames below. Shortly afterwards, Rita was promoted to police captain, and Mike and Marcus were assigned to the AMMO. Mike visits a remorseful Armando in prison, giving him a chance to get some relief. Armando accepts.

04. No Time to Die

Non Time to Die is an up and coming government agent film and the twenty-fifth portion in a progression of James Bond films delivered by Eon Productions. It stars James Bond, the anecdotal MI6 operator on his fifth and last excursion. Their jobs have been resuscitated, with Rami Malek and Lashana Lynch in the number one spot jobs Have joined. Advancement of the film started in 2016. It is a worldwide computerized and TV rights for North America. The film will likewise be discharged on Universal's worldwide physical home media. Danny Boyle was initially engaged with John Hodge in coordinating and co-composing the screenplay. Both left in August 2018 because of imaginative contrasts; Fukunaga was reported as Boyle's substitution a month later. The greater part of the cast marked by April 2019. Pass on Time to Die was initially booked for discharge in April 2020, however was deferred worldwide because of the COVID-19 pandemic. It will presently be discharged on November 12 in the UK and November 25 in the US

05. Black Widow 2020

Black Widow is an up and coming American superhuman film dependent on the Marvel Comics character of a similar name. Delivered by Marvel Studios and served by Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, the film is set to turn into the 24th film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). The movie is coordinated by Jack Schaefer and Kate Shorthand by Ned Benson, and stars Scarlett Johansson close by Natasha Romanoff, David Harbor, Florence Pew, and T. Fagbenley and Rachel Vice. Composed and coordinated by David Hotter, Lionsgate started building up a Black Widow film in April 2004. The undertaking didn't proceed and the rights to the film engaged with the character were reestablished to Marvel Studios in June 2006. Beginning with Iron Man 2, Johansson was cast in a few film jobs at MCU. Before creating with the employing of Schaefer and Shorthand in 2016, Marvel and Johansson communicated enthusiasm for a potential performance film at various occasions in resulting years. Benson was employed and there were more choices on the 2019 runway Nor started shooting in May at Pinewood Studios in Norway and England. Creation is relied upon to end in September. The film Black Widow is set to discharge on May 1, 2020.

06. Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey

After the destruction of Enchantress, the Joker broke Harley Quinn and tossed him in the city of Gotham City. Doc, the proprietor of a Taiwanese eatery, takes her with him and recoups from her relationship by having a hair style, spotted hyena (which he named after Bruce Wayne) and taking a roller derby. Harley becomes inebriated at a club claimed by the proprietor of a merciless wrongdoing called Roman Cionis and incapacitates his driver after the driver deadens him. He met vocalist Dinah Lance in Berlusconi, who later safeguarded a tipsy Harley from a grabbing endeavor. Cyanis was dazzled by Dina's ability and employed her as his new driver. The following night, Harley exploded the S Chemicals plant as an approach to freely report his and the Joker's division. In the interim, GCPD investigator Rini Montoya is examining different homicides executed by crossboard-fueled vigilantes. Discovering Harley's jewelry at the location of the S Chemicals blast, Montoya noticed that Harley is in peril without the Joker's assurance. He drew closer Dinah about being a metro journalist for them, however Dinah cannot. Zionist Dinah and his deplorable right-hand man, Victor Jasasz, were sent to Bartenelli Crime Family Fate to recuperate a jewel improved with a record number, which was killed years prior. Youthful Pickett Cassandra "Cas" takes the precious stone from Kane Jasasz and swallows it in the wake of being captured. He fouled up by escaping from Harty, Montoya and a few others, and was caught by the individuals of Zionis. Jasas revealed to Cionis that Cassandra has precious stones, and Dina cautions Montoya. As Cionis gets ready to slaughter Hurley, he offers to recover the precious stone for her. Cionis concurs yet in addition puts an effortlessness on Cassandra. Harley Cassandra and the pair are discharged after the GCPD separates with an assortment of firecrackers deadened fatal explosive launcher adjusts. After the departure, Harley and Cassandra's bond is covered up in the previous' loft. Doc was drawn closer by "Crossbow Killer" distributed as Helena Bartinelli. Enduring her family's slaughter and being prepared as a killer, Helena organizes Monica's "The Huntress", focusing on each hoodlum liable for her family's homicide. Cassandra's searchers later exploded the bomb at Quinn's loft, and Doc mourned that he had sold Harley. Harley summons Cionis to meet him at a relinquished entertainment mecca and offers to return Cassandra in return for his assurance. Dina advises Montoya for the exchange, however her disloyalty is seen by Jasasage educating Zionis. A crushed Zionist wears his conventional cover directly from where he gets his miscreant moniker, "Dark Mask". In the recreation center, Montoya stands up to Hurley, yet Hurley takes him out the window. Harley arrived settled before Jasasaj got Dinah at gunpoint, yet he was murdered on account of Helena, uncovering that Jasasas was the remainder of his family's executioners. Montoya returns and settles down, until they understand that Zionis has gotten a little power of covered men, all things considered utilizing the old apparatus of the Queen, known as the False Face Society, to briefly repulse their assault and repulse their assault. During the fight, Cassandra is caught by Cyanis, and Dina shows her supersonic degree of shouting metahuman's aptitude, crushing the additional number of troops joined with Cionis. Harley pursues the roller skate and the pair follow Cyanis with the assistance of Helena. In a close by heap, the last crash happened. Cionis is prepared to murder Cassandra, however she pulls the ring from a projectile that she slipped into her coat in the wake of taking it from the chest of Harry's weapon. Not long before the projectile detonated and executed Harley tossed Cionis. Montoya left the GCPD in the wake of wrecking the criminal realm of Cyanosis. With the assistance of cash from the records behind the precious stone, he joins Dinah and Helena in setting up a group of vigilantes called Burns of Pre. Harley and Cassandra escape, sell the precious stones themselves in a hide shop and start their own agreement slaughtering business. In the post-credit sound arrangement, Harley is going to uncover a mystery about Batman, yet the film parts of the bargains.

07. Mulan 2020

Mulan is a 2020 American activity show movie coordinated by Nick Nico, delivered by Rick Jaffa, with screenplay by Amanda Silver, Lauren Heinek and Elizabeth Martin, created by Walt Disney Pictures and conveyed by Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures. The film depends on the Chinese folktale "The Balad of Mulan" and is a real life adjustment of Disney's 1998 vivified film of a similar name. The film stars Donnie Yen, Jason Scott Lee, Eoson Ann, Gong Lee, and Jet Lee, just as Leo Yefi. Plans for a real to life Mulan redo started in 2010, yet the undertaking never succeeded. In March 2015, another endeavor was declared and Carro was recruited to coordinate in February 2011. Liu was thrown in the title job in November 2017, after a throwing call of a thousand entertainers, and the remainder of the cast joined all through the next year. Recording started in August 2018 and occurred in New Zealand and China until November. Mulan is the principal live-activity redo from Disney to be given a PG-13 rating by MPAA. It should be discharged in the United States on March 22, 2020, yet was deferred to July 22, 2020 due to the coronavirus plague.

08. Wonder Woman 1984

Wonder Woman 1984 (also marketed as WW84: Wonder Woman 1984) is an upcoming American superhero film based on the DC Comics character Wonder Woman. This is the sequel to 2017 Wonder Woman and the ninth installment of DC Extended Universe (DCEU). The film is directed by Patty Jenkins from a script co-written with Jeff Johns and David Colham, and features a story by Johns and Jenkins and starring Gal Gadot as Diana Prince / Wonder Woman, alongside Chris Pine, Kristen Wig, Pedro Pascal, Robin Wright, and Coin. In a supportive role. In 1974, Maxwell followed up with Diana in a film opposite Lord and Cheetah. Discussions on the sequel began shortly after the first picture was released in June 2017, and the decision to make a decision the following month was confirmed. Principal photography began on June 13, 2016 - with filming by Warner Bros. Studios, Lewesden, England, as well as the Districts of Columbia and North Virginia in the United States, London and Doxford in England, Terrify in Canary and Fuerteventura in Spain and Andalusia in December. Wrap in 2018. Additional filming was done in July 2019. Wonder Woman 1984 will be released in the United States on 14th August 2020 by Warner Bros. Realdi 3D, Dolby Cinema, IMX and IMX 3D.

09. Extraction

Following a day at school, Ovi Mahajan, the child of an imprisoned Indian medication ruler, visits a club from his home, where he is snatched by cops working for rival tranquilize master Amir Asif. Saju Rao, a previous Indian Special Forces fighter and Ovi's guardian, met Ovi's dad in prison. Not having any desire to request a payoff as it would harm the poise of OB's dad, OV Mahajan trained Sr. Saju to undermine his family and recuperate the child. Scratch Khan, an underground market hired fighter and a previous trooper in the Australian Special Air Service Regiment, recruited Taylor Rake as an associate hired fighter to save Ovi from Dhaka, Bangladesh. After he is recouped, his dad's men are prepared to take Reke and Khan's group to take care of their obligations. Rake salvages Ovi, executes his prisoners, and takes him to the leave point, yet his dad's men purposely neglect to move reserves. Rather the inhabitant executes Saju Rock's colleague to take Ovi back to abstain from paying the gathering. Learning of Ovi's departure, Asif makes sure about all scaffolds from the city by requesting a prompt lockdown. Khan organizes the helicopter to remove Reck from town and advises him to leave the OV since they won't get paid for the OV lifting contract. She won't, spooky by the memory of her own child, who kicked the bucket at a youthful age after he left. In the wake of escaping from Saju and the degenerate police and vital unit, a gathering of young men drove by Farhad, a youthful criminal resolved to impact Rek Asif, got into a battle with the kid. Recky calls his companion Gaspar, a resigned crew mate living in Paka, and he and Ovi are dozing at Gaspar's home. Gaspar uncovered that Asif had a ১০ 10 million award for Ovi, which he offered to share if Reck let him execute Ovi. Rack denies and battles Gapper, who picks up the high ground, however Ovi shoots him lethally. Reke calls Saju and approaches him for help, driving them to escape from Dhaka. Rake draws consideration from a hidden outfit and OV when the two travel through the scaffold checkpoint, at that point covers their getaway. Khan and the remainder of his occupants originated from the contrary side of the scaffold, Asif glancing through optics from a separation. In the following round, Saju captured Asif's colonel, who convoluted and grabbed Khan. Injured, Rock trains Ovi to go to the helicopter sitting tight for Khan. Subsequent to following Rak, Farhad and Ovi shot him in the neck and fell into the stream, seeing him safe. Ovi, Khan, and the departure group fled to Mumbai. After eight months, Khan kills Asif in the men's bathroom. Ovi hops into her school's pool and tumbles to the surface. Somebody is watching her, most likely Rake.

10. Baaghi 3

Ranveer "Roni" Chaturvedi is a youngster who lives with his senior sibling Vikram. Shielded from adolescence, particularly after the passing of their dad, Ronnie was extended to an employment opportunity in the police power, however rejected due to his fierce reputation and rather convinced Vikram to carry out the responsibility. A bold and hesitant Vikram turned into a police officer and the day of his joining saw a fierce occurrence that acquainted him with a hoodlum named IPL. At the point when the prisoner circumstance emerges, Vikram is given the obligation and frenzies to confront the lawbreakers, yet Ronnie guarantees him of security and goes with him to where they battle the hooligans together. Ronnie battles them and aides Vikram salvage the prisoners yet assumes no acknowledgment. This procedure is rehashed and for each situation Vikram starts to get mainstream among people in general and his area of expertise. The IPL has chosen to seize Ronnie to unnerve Vikram, however when Ronnie pushes on his fowls and beats them, they get trapped in Vikram's grasp. In the interim, Ronnie and Sia begin to look all starry eyed at one another and conclude that their own kin Vikram and Ruchi will get married with one another. At some point, Vikram was recruited by the legislature in Syria for a normal desk work. Ruchi discloses to Vikram that she is pregnant and she will be hanging tight for his desire. Showing up in Syria, Vikram makes a video call with Ronnie and reveals to him that somebody has taken his pocket. Before long, there is a thump on the entryway and a few people assault Vikram as Ronnie looks defenseless. Concealing reality from Ruchi, Ronnie and Sia showed up in Syria where the police wouldn't support them. They at that point meet Akhtar Lahori, who helped them track Vikram and his hostages, take Ronnie Vikram into a pocket in the wake of reminding him to get his pocket, searching for Vikram's wallet, they go to his inn when police begin scanning for the three. At his home, Ronnie got a harmed telephone and fled with Sia and Lahori before police could get them. The trio before long finds the aggressor, bringing about a pursuit. The depleted aggressor pushes a truck and consents to help him before he kicks the bucket. Sia recovers the assailant's telephone from her wallet and sends the IPL to meet at an inn. Driving force Abu Jalal Gaza likewise showed up at the lodging to vindicate the assailant's demise. He said he was messaged to the IPL by the executioner rather and the IPL fled when the police showed up. Be that as it may, Abu figured out how to escape in mask while catching the IPL and the fundamental cop with Ronnie. Dreading selling out from the IPL since his capture, Abu requested his men to bring him down. Ronnie and the group keenly trust Abu's psychos on the phase of a progression of occasions that they have been double-crossed by the IPL. They assault him and Ronnie salvages him and the IPL chooses to support him and the police. Before long, Vikram's companion Asif was prepared to put a bomb inside a structure in return for his family's assurance. Sia shows up and stops Asif, the police discharge his family. Ronnie, then again, battled alone with Abu's military before going to save Vikram and the prisoners. The IPL penances to spare the prisoners from being executed by a landmine and rather Lahori accidentally leaves the prisoners and the Abu winged animals show up. Abu consents to discharge everybody, except rather than Siya, he bolts Kake with Vikram. Ronnie Abu begins battling with the feathered creatures, however when Vikram begins to blow up when he sees Ronnie getting injured, he quits battling. Ronnie was cut and nearly slaughtered, changing Vikram who leaped out of the house to battle fiercely with everybody and constrained Abu on a steel pole. Vikram and Sia attempt to revive Ronnie however think he is dead, and when Abu seems to assault them from behind, Ronnie gets up and executes him. Back in India, Vikram is regarded for his fortitude and Ronnie envisions their dad, a copycat, salutes him for staying faithful to his obligation and embraces him.

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[kingsofchaos]

I had an idea, and it kinda made sense to me. What if the cops are also immortal? Or maybe not all of them but Key members, and they and the fakes have been doing this dance for centuries. They chased Geoff through the French Revolution, caught Jack a few times Stealing planes in WW1, so on.

Oooh! I actually thought about bringing in immortal cops (would be probably the only way I’d have RT people in the LSPD because I don’t want to kill them oops) but I tend to always consider it as more of a purgatory type situation, all gaining immortality at the same time in the cursed hellscape that is Los Santos. I love your version, with the long term historic kind of fahc immortality, because there are just so many ways it could go.I mean

1. You could go for something really ridiculous and full on, something like immortality itself being stolen in the first place, because humans were never meant to live forever were they? Were never meant to have this kind of power, but where something of great importance exists there will always be people willing to steal it. It’s an object of the Gods, maybe, of the Devils, perhaps, something ancient and terrible, something forgotten and far too tempting to stay that way forever. Not when people like the man who would one day be Geoff Ramsey exist to find and steal it, when the original iteration of Jack Pattillo is around to share it with, not when Ryan, still James, kills them both and takes it only for the dead to track him down and take it back. Not when Gavin has always had sticky fingers, always been a thief, or when any version of Michael would follow him into hell and back, not when Jeremy was always going to jump headfirst into action, touch strange glowing objects first and worry about the ramifications later.But objects like that don’t stay forgotten forever. Objects like that aren’t left unattended. Others have touched it before, of course, immortal beings who were meant to stand guard, who return to their post to find the object missing. Who comb the earth to track the thieves, playing at law enforcement to avoid detection, avoid even more mortals stumbling across secrets they should not know, but while the criminals are found over and over across history the object is never recovered. Even when the FAHC settle in one place, choose fight over flight and demand answers to some questions of their own, even when the trackers infiltrate the LSPD and raid every place the Crew owns, even then the object remains hidden. Because immortal beings the pseudo-cops may be but the FAHC are human, at least mostly, in all the ways that count. Human in their creativity, their deviousness, their cruelty. Human in their their unlimited ability to adapt, to learn and conquer, to outwit anything and anyone no matter how old, how timeless. So war is waged right under the nose of society, each side keeping their secrets but neither concerned with collateral damage, a city turned battleground for those who cannot die, the nightmare that is Los Santos.Then again:

2. It could be far more simple, where immortals just somehow happen at some point, with no connection to one another, except perhaps some sense that there are others, an odd pull to one another. In the way of humanity throughout history the divide between these immortals is simply human nature, the inclination of some to use their advantages selfishly while others look to protect the greater good. The Fake’s, of course, are individuals who upon realising their own immortality quickly work out that they are now in a better situation than anyone around them, that they can do just about whatever they want with no real consequences, and go wild with the power. Thieves and mobsters, criminals and cult leaders, notorious names in history and unknown puppeteers - over the years the one-day members of the Fake AH Crew have done it all.  They meet up eventually, hundreds of years apart, perhaps temporarily as rivals but overlapping interests and shared ability quickly sees them joining forces. Sees them becoming the most dangerous group history has ever seen. That history keeps on seeing, in many different forms and under many different names over the years but never any less formidable. The eventual immortal members of the LSPD, who’ve been everything from soldiers to international intelligence to vigilantes themselves were never any less dangerous. There have always been famous detectives, always been soldiers who survived the unsurvivable, law enforcement who’ve gone above and beyond, and like the Fake’s these individuals are eventually drawn together under their shared quest for justice. Imbued as they are with a sense of virtuous purpose, assured their role on earth is to police the corrupted immortals and prevent them from raining hell upon normal people, these officers have long been just as merciless as the criminals they hunt. They’ve dogged the Fake’s wherever they’ve gone for centuries, first individually and now as a group, set up for the long haul in Los Santos, doing their very best to curtail the criminal behaviour and prevent the death of those who will not come back to life. It’s a battle they are all locked into now, a duty for the police, a defiance for the FAHC, bloody and vicious and all kinds of unforgiving, on and on into eternity.Or alternatively:

3. For the less serious sort of version of the FAHC - immortal criminals vs immortal justice seekers, still at odds of course, always pitted against one another as the Fake’s fight for selfish gain and power and the cops fight to keep them contained, but maybe it’s all become a bit mundane. Maybe eternity has given them all a bit of perspective, thrown them together for far too long to stay entirely objective, to keep themselves separate. They are all the only immortals any of them know, after all, the only ones stuck in this loop, so maybe they’re on opposite sides but they’d have to talk to one another now and again. Eventually learn more than names, learn like and personalities, not friends, no, but certainly a kind of camaraderie, a familiarity that could almost be fondness in the right light, inevitable after countless lifetimes in each other’s presence. Inevitable when there’s no end in sight, no grand finale, no true winner or loser in this never ending pantomime of life and death. Sure, no one likes dying, no one enjoys the pain or the inescapable flicker of fear, no one wants to explain away their lack of injury or, when the death is too public, create a whole new identity, but you can only take murder personally for so many centuries. Can only hold onto anger for so long before it becomes a little trivial. A little childish. No matter how much Hollywood loves to romanticise supernatural grudges the reality is far less passionate - do anything on loop for 500 years and the fire is sure to dwindle, the emotions mute, shit gets fucking boring.The never ending battle wages on, the conflict between two sides that will never see eye-to-eye, and the ever-changing nature of society and technology keeps the fights themselves from growing too stale, but when you run side-by-side with someone for this long there are only so many righteous monologues you can make before you start feeling a little silly. Sometimes you’re going to see Geoff and Jack at a cafe getting breakfast, or Lindsay and Jeremy at the store debating hair dye brands, and you just have to keep walking. Sometimes you’ll sit down next to Michael and Gavin getting drunk at the bar, will see Trevor and Matt filling a shopping trolley with energy drinks and candy bars, spot Ryan wandering around without that ridiculous mask he’s picked up this time around, and just move on.Because you’re enemies, yes, and tomorrow you’ll be back at war, but today you’ve got a date or tickets to that one movie or haven’t had a coffee yet. Today you’re tired or hungry or just need to talk to someone who isn’t Frank because honestly fuck Frank anyway he’s been hung up on that one ruined shirt for seventy goddamn years, Christ almighty. So you look away, or they look away, or you exchange awkward nods that are perhaps less uncomfortable than they should be, silent acceptance that you’ll pick this fight up another day. Because hey, there will always be another day.

[nao-hime]

Wither || Nagito Komaeda x Reader

A/N: This is a sort of AU??? Where everyone ages and changes physically until they’re eighteen. They stay eighteen until they meet their soulmate. But just because someone is your soulmate doesn’t make you theirs. For example: Reader is Nagito’s soulmate. But Nagito is not Reader’s. So this is just a progress of their relationship as Reader is forced to watch the man she’s in love with grow old without her :’)

Also, in order to actually know who your soulmate is, you can’t see color until you meet gazes with them. Otherwise I have no idea how people would even be aware. 

For you, the world had always been in black and white. And you weren’t talking about morals. No, you were talking about the literal lack of color. You could not see what others called ‘green’. You could not see how ‘blue’ the sky was. It was either black or white, with some shades of gray.

You were envious of those who could see color. Because you were not the only one afflicted with this disability. Yes, everyone was born without a color palette. But there were those who were brought to life. There were those who gained the ability to see the world as it truly was. And those were the people you were envious of.

Everyone knew that they had a soulmate. Everyone knew that they stopped aging once they hit eighteen. Everyone knew that they couldn’t see colors. And everyone knew that these two facts would change once they met their soulmate. The moment they locked gazes with them, they would be able to age once again and see color for the first time. Parents were expected to teach this to their kids, after all.

Soulmates were a wonderful thing. You were often infatuated with the thought of meeting your soulmate. You wanted nothing more than to meet your soulmate, see the world in its true colors, and grow old together. Eternal youth seemed like a great concept, but actually experiencing it was pretty terrible. So you were determined to find your own soulmate and experience it yourself.

   You met him one day while on the street, when he was standing in front of a vending machine.

At first, you hadn’t really paid much attention to him. All he was doing was inserting some money for some soda.

What made you stop was when you heard him murmur, “That’s odd…”

You paused in your strides and turned your head to see that he was pushing a button over and over again. As much as you knew eavesdropping was bad, you couldn’t stop yourself from creeping closer and peeking over his shoulder.

“I put in a thousand yen and pushed the button, but it’s not coming out. I’m so unlucky.”A sigh escaped his lips.

Pity coiled in your gut. He was right; how unlucky! You weren’t sure if the vending machine was faulty or if it was some sort of trick to force people to insert more money. Either way, you wanted to give it a try.

“Excuse me,” you said politely, causing him to turn and widen his eyes in surprise. His eyes were gray to you—probably because of your color blindness. But his hair was stark white, and you weren’t sure if it was actually white or if it was a different color. You doubted he knew either, unless he had already met his soul mate.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. He stepped aside to make room for you.

You nodded thankfully and dug through your bag for your wallet. You inserted the necessary amount of money, and pressed the button to the soda he wanted—Dr. Hopper, it seemed—and watched as it tumbled to the ground. You didn’t need to look to see that he was widening his eyes with shock now. Kneeling down, you slipped your arm inside and snatched up the soda. You inspected it for a moment before turning and handing it to him.

“Here you go,” you told him. He slowly accepted it from you, still speechless at your actions. “I thought it was unfair that you paid, but didn’t get anything. Maybe you should report it?” You shrugged. “Anyway, have a nice day.” You walked past him, returning your wallet into your bag.

“H-Hey, wait!”

You stopped and turned. The white-haired male—or was it some other color?—had seemed to regain his voice. His mouth was slightly parted, as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words. The can of soda was gripped tightly in one of his hands.

“Did you need something?”

He blinked a few times before raising his free hand and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually…It’s unfair that you paid for my drink. So I’d like to repay you.” He flashed a small smile that you actually found quite cute.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t need you to repay me,” you assured him, waving your hand as if waving away the problem. “If you really want to repay me, then you can drink that soda and we can call it even.” You were just doing an act of kindness; it lost its value when he paid you back. But he clearly didn’t agree.

“One dinner,” he insisted. “Let me treat you to something, of your choice, and then we can call it even.”

You twisted your mouth to the side. The offer certainly was tempting, and you would get to pick.

What was the harm in agreeing? At least he said it would be one dinner. If you liked him, then great! New friend. If you didn’t, then you would never have to see his face again.

“Okay,” you said simply, offering a small smile to reassure him that you were not upset. “Oh—my name is (Y/n) (L/n). It’s very nice to meet you.”

“(L/n)…? Well, my name is Nagito Komaeda.” Nagito extended his hand, to which you shook it once, firmly. He grinned at you, revealing a row of white teeth—but a lot about him looked white to you. “I hope that we can become friends.”

   It was more than one dinner.

The two of you went on many more dates than that. Honestly, you were fascinated by Nagito. He was a little self-deprecating—he liked to call himself a scumbag and trash—but you always thought he was just being humorous. It wasn’t until later on that you realized he was serious about what he said. You were never happy about this, of course, but Nagito didn’t seem to care.

The way he went on about hope was actually rather appealing to you. You found it amazing that he was so passionate about something that needed to be spread throughout the world. There was way too much despair—people were suffering, hungry, dying, while you were enjoying yourselves over a nice dinner. That had sort of ruined the mood, but you quickly recovered yourself by the next date.

It seemed with each one, you learned something new about him. No matter how much you learned, no matter how many layers you peeled away, there was so much more to him. It encouraged you to persist, to pursue the relationship. And even though you had not recovered your color palette upon seeing him, you knew that it wouldn’t really matter. After all, you weren’t in love with him. And he wasn’t in love with you.

And if it ever led to love, at least the two of you would be together forever. A hopeful couple.

Early on, you had made the mistake of asking about his family life, his personal life, and if he had ever been in a relationship. He had told you a rather sad story about how his parents had died in a plane crash, he had been put into a coma, and that he had lived on his own in his mansion ever since. When your expression went from inquisitive to utterly horrified, he broke out into a cheerful smile and exclaimed, “I’m just messing with you!”

You sighed in relief. You were a bit annoyed that he would fabricate such a story, but you were genuinely relieved that he had not gone through that. It would explain his love for hope.

But after that, he didn’t say anything else about his family. Part of you wondered if he was really lying or if that was his way of confessing the truth without really admitting it.

He admitted that he had never been in a relationship before, that he had not been very lucky with girls. Sure, he went on dates, but he never went steady with any of the girls. This piqued your interest. Nagito seemed like a genuinely nice guy; why would he never end up in a relationship?

Nagito always joked that he was unlucky, and based on how you met him, you were inclined to believe him.

You hoped that he would take the hint, though. You weren’t really one to flirt, but you did send subtle messages. You were a calm, thoughtful person, so why not act that way while attempting to flirt? After all, each person had their own method. Usually, you inquired about their romantic life, any past relationships, and if they were currently looking for one. If they admitted that they were, you would merely reply with, “Interesting. I’m looking for one myself, too.”

You only did that if you were interested in them, of course. After all, you hated those people that strung others along for their own personal entertainment, on shows and in real life. They just pissed you off to no end, and you didn’t want to be anything like them.

That, and it had happened to you once before.

You had been eighteen for a couple years. If you had met your soulmate, you would be twenty-seven right now. So you had had plenty of time to go on dates and meet guys.

Your main purpose for doing that was to find your soulmate. Even if you remained single the rest of your life, you didn’t want to live forever. It would be a rather boring process, after all.

You would be rather depressed if you watched as all of your family members withered away while you lived on. That would be a lonely life.

This was your fourth date since you had first met. The dates were rather spread out, mainly because your schedules interfered. He attended a great institution called Hope’s Peak Academy, as one of the students there, and your work schedule was not always solid. It tended to change depending on how your boss felt.

So even though you had met almost three months ago, you had only had four dates. But you were glad that you were both genuinely interested in each other, otherwise neither of you would be trying.

“Ah, I’m so lucky!” Nagito would say, when you discovered that you were both available on the same day. Even though you appeared calm on the outside, you were absolutely ecstatic within. You couldn’t wait to spend more time with Nagito. He made you feel happy for the longest time.

Sure, you were content with your life, but you had never felt this way in a long time.

The two of you agreed to change things up. Usually, you simply went out for a dinner and a movie. Nothing more, nothing less. But Nagito said he wanted to do something different, and since it was growing a bit tedious, you decided to give your approval. Though you were a bit wary, you were rather curious of what he had in mind for you.

When you asked if you would like it, he said, “Gosh, I hope so. I’m trusting in my luck, though.”

You refrained from responding with, “Your luck sucks, evidently.”

Nagito was adorable and all, with how youthful and optimistic he could be, but you found his faith in his luck a bit ignorant. You didn’t believe in luck. You were a rational, intelligent woman. It wasn’t that you were a huge science nerd or anything—you just thought that if one believed in luck, that would affect how their life turned out. For example, Nagito believed he was unlucky, so unlucky things happened to him. Sure, he had good things happen to him, but he always claimed it was a result of his bad luck.

But you didn’t want to get into that with him. You just wanted to enjoy his company without worrying about scaring him off with your debating. That had happened once before as well.

So that night, when he swung by to pick you up, he evaded all of your questions. You pressed him, trying to trick him into answering you, but he was smart enough not to fall for you. It kind of frustrated you, because usually this method worked on other men. Nagito was smarter than he seemed—smarter than he gave himself credit for.

You were also annoyed by the fact that he took random turns on the road to throw you off, so you were unable to make a reasonable assumption as to where he was taking you. In the end, you just leaned back in your seat, folded your arms across your chest, and decided to wait and see. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Nagito grinning like a fool.

He really was cute.

If only you could see him in color.

After some time, he finally pulled into a parking lot across from a park. Honestly, you weren’t really one to go to parks. But this one looked oddly familiar. Your eyes roved the land until it fell upon a certain machine.

“Komaeda-kun, is this…?” You turned to look at him, breaking into a grin when he beamed at you.

“This is where we met. I thought you might want to hang out here.”

You could not stop the smile that broke out onto your face. This was absolutely sweet of him to do. Touched by the gesture, you threw yourself at him—despite the difficulty of your positions in the car—and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you so, so much!” you told him, tightening your grip. For a moment, you were afraid he wasn’t going to return the embrace, but then he snaked his arms around your waist. Instantly, all worry and anxiety was washed away and replaced by relief and comfort. You felt safe in Nagito’s arms. You felt—no, you believed that nothing could hurt you as long as you were with Nagito.

Oh, you could never have predicted how wrong you were.

The two of you shuffled out of the car and made your way to the vending machine. It was restocked, and you quickly identified the soda that Nagito liked. Dr. Hopper, right? You wondered what color it was.

“Do you like Dr. Hopper too?” inquired Nagito, watching your thoughtful expression with a small smile gracing his features.

You shrugged. “I’ve never had it. Honestly, I never heard of it before I met you.”

“What?!” You could hear the false surprise in Nagito’s voice as he pretended that he was absolutely appalled by this discovery. “That’s a fact we have to change! Here, I’ll buy you some—“ He moved to reach for his wallet, but you closed your hand around his. Something dark appeared on his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell what it was. A blush, perhaps?

“You know, I don’t think it’s smart for you to insert the money. After all, you’re pretty unlucky,” you teased, the corners of your lips tugging up into a grin. Nagito was quiet for a second, contemplating your words, before nodding in agreement.

“You’re right.” Nagito withdrew his wallet anyway and handed you the necessary amount of money. “But I want you to use my money. That way, I’m technically paying for it.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

You turned to the machine and gave the required yen. You punched the button beneath the Dr. Hopper, and it fell to the ground with a clatter. Nagito beat you to the punch, because he was stooping down and removing it before you could even blink. With a cute grin on his face, he offered you the soda can.

“It’s really good. I promise,” he told you.

You smirked. “I’m holding you to that promise.” You clicked it open and raised the can to your lips. The liquid ran down your throat, its glorious flavor exploding across your tongue. It was not just ‘really good’. No, it was heavenly!

How had you not heard of it before?!

But you didn’t want to encourage Nagito. So you said, “It’s good, I guess.”

“Aww, don’t lie, (L/n)-chan! I can see it in your eyes; you’re hooked!”

Nagito was right.

You decided not to respond to that, and merely said, “So what else do you have planned for our date?” Just like that, Nagito completely forgot about the Dr. Hopper and was informing you of something fun he had planned.

“So you know the trust game?” You nodded in reply. “I wanna try that!”

You blinked a few times. “What? Why?”

“You gotta trust me here, (L/n)-chan,” he said in a playful tone, rubbing the back of his head. “All you have to do is close your eyes while I lead you around.”

“Okay, but you better not ram me into a tree or something…”

Nagito laughed. “What did I say about trusting me?”

You closed your eyes tightly, careful to make sure you could not see anything. You completely trusted Nagito, so you didn’t want him to think the opposite. You stiffened when you felt his gentle hands place themselves on your shoulders, but you relaxed into his touch. You had no idea why you trusted him so early on in the relationship.

Nagito began giving clear, concise instructions. He would always warn you about some sort of hole in the ground, or if there was a tree nearby. He never steered you around with his hands; he allowed you to navigate yourself. But he would stop you by tightening his grip if you were dangerously close to harm.

Just knowing how much he cared about you made your heart flutter.

It felt like it was over too soon when he said, “Alright, you can open your eyes.” You were honestly a bit disappointed it had to end. You really liked the game, because it gave you a stronger bond with Nagito. But your curiosity overpowered your disappointment, and you fluttered your eyelids open. Your gaze was instantly fixed upon the only thing right in front of you.

A beautiful garden with all sorts of flora decorated the middle of the park. Though you could not see the colors, you could just imagine how gorgeous they were. There were so many flowers to look at, that your gaze darted back and forth between each one.

You didn’t tear your eyes away as you asked, “What…? How?”

“I have a friend at my school,” Nagito explained. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him rubbing the back of his head, almost in embarrassment. “They’re a florist. And I asked them to set this up for you.”

“But…why?” You were still in disbelief that he would do all of this for you.

“I really like you, (L/n)-chan. And I really want to be with you.” At Nagito’s words, you turned to face him, eyes wide in disbelief. A sheepish grin was on the white-haired male’s face, and you promptly noticed that one of his hands was behind his back. “That’s why…I’d like to ask you if you’ll be my girlfriend.”

You watched as he removed his hand from behind his back, revealing a beautiful rose clutched in his hand. Even without color, you could see how much life was within those petals. You gingerly took it from him, lifting it to your nose. Breathing in its wonderful aroma, you cracked a small smile. Meanwhile, Nagito waited patiently for your answer.

“Of…Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” you told him, clutching the rose close to your chest. You flung your arms around his neck and crashed your lips against his. Nagito stumbled back in shock, but gratefully returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The kiss was perfect. That was not your first kiss, to be honest, but it was your first one with Nagito. And it was perfect. It felt as if your lips had settled into place, as if they were crafted just for each other. You savored the feeling of his smooth mouth against yours.

Disappointment burrowed into your chest when you were forced to pull away for oxygen. The two of you were panting for air, but you both had goofy smiles on your faces as you just looked lovingly into each other’s eyes.

“You know…” Nagito said through gasps. “I’m really…lucky that I met you…”

You giggled. “I think my luck could rival yours.” Nagito chuckled and shook his head, before dropping his hand to snatch up yours. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. He stared at you for a moment, as if trying to find something in your features, before tugging you by the hand.

“C’mon, (L/n)-chan. I have a lot more planned.”

   You went on countless more dates after that. It seemed that Lady Luck was shining down on you both after he asked you to be his girlfriend, because your schedules lined up perfectly. Soon, you were going on dates every other week, and each one was just as perfect as the last. Sometimes, you believed that nothing could go wrong, and you began wondering if luck really did exist or if it was just a coincidence.

But soon enough, you were positive that it was just a myth.

The rose was captive in a lovely vase, passed down in your family. Still, you had no color, but it was still thriving with life. It was a nice thing to wake up to in the mornings. It was a pleasant reminder of your flourishing relationship. Honestly, sometimes you could almost feel the love radiating off of the beautiful flower.

Today was another date for you both, and you were eager to find out what he had in store today. Each date was different from the last, but always in a good way. It left you on the edge of your seat, and craving for more.

So when you opened the door, you bore a bright smile on your face. You had gotten dressed up for this occasion. Well, you got dressed up for every single date. You knew it was probably too early in the relationship, considering you were only together for six months, but you always anticipated when he would propose to you.

Even if you still had no color in your vision, you would be happy to live forever with Nagito.

“You look beautiful, as always,” he told you, chuckling slightly. A bouquet of roses was clutched in his hand, to which he offered it to you. “Can our date be here tonight? I have something important I need to tell you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

It wasn’t that you were disappointed. You were just a little surprised by his request to really be all peppy about it. Nagito noticed this too, because his eyebrows furrowed, but his worried expression was quickly wiped away with a bright smile.

“Great!” You moved aside so that he could enter, and you closed the door behind him. Nagito looked around the house, eyes never staying in one place. “I like your house! It’s cute.”

“Hm? Oh, thanks,” you said, still wondering what he possibly wanted to talk about. You were too distracted by your internal guessing. “I’m an only child, so my parents gave it to me when they moved away.”

Your parents were not dead yet. Just like you, neither of them had met their soulmate. It was rather weird, having your parents be the same age as you, but they exhibited some mature traits that commanded respect from you. But apparently youth was not with them, because they were quite exhausted by the time you were ready to move out. So they told you they were going on vacation for who knows how long, and that you could keep the house. You were all for it, so you had nothing to complain about.

And that was how it came into your possession.

“Ah, I’m an only child too!” Nagito chirped in response. Nagito didn’t talk much about his family, unlike you, so you didn’t know much about his familial life. That was the first thing you had heard of his family in a long time. “Anyway, is there anywhere we can sit…?” Now you could sense the apprehension radiating off of him. What is it that he wanted to talk about?

“Don’t you want something to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Really. It might be best if I don’t have anything in my stomach before this, anyway.”

You grimaced at his joke. You weren’t one for vomit humor, and Nagito knew that. He must’ve been really nervous if he slipped up like that.

“Okay, then…Well, the living room is this way.”

It was awkwardly silent as you led him to the living room. For the first time since you had met Nagito, an awkward silence lingered in the air. Normally, either you or him would be chatting, and there was no need to suffer such silences. But now it was dreadfully silent. Panic rose up within you as you wondered why he was being so serious. Nagito was never serious! You didn’t mean that as an insult or anything; it was just stating fact.

You sat down on the couch with Nagito next to you. His hand was clutching yours, and his thumb rubbed over your knuckles again. He had begun doing this as a habit whenever you were anxious or whenever he was nervous.

“(Y/n)…” Nagito had begun addressing you by your first name since you started dating, and you did the same for him. But now you could hear no love within the word. Only anxiety. It worried you greatly. “You know how we all see color when we meet our soulmates, right?”

You nodded. “Yes.” It was common knowledge. Everyone knew that.

“Have you…met your soulmate?”

“No. I still can’t see color nor can I age.” You blinked a few times. “Have you met yours, Nagito?”

Nagito took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Yeah. I have.”

It hit you like a punch to the chest. All air was knocked out of you, and you couldn’t seem to regain it. Your throat was constricted with pain at this revelation.

Unfortunately for you, you had not been aware of the fact that just because you were their soulmate doesn’t mean they were yours. So you felt completely betrayed by Nagito’s confession. You were afraid that he was cheating on you, because for the first time in your life, you were in love with someone who was not related to you.

“Who…Who is she?” you demanded in a low voice, trembling slightly.

“(Y/n)…”

“Who is she?!”

Nagito sighed and massaged his forehead with his hand. “(Y/n)…It’s you. You’re my soulmate.”

You reeled back in shock, retracting your hand from his grip. “What…? But…But you’re not my soulmate!”

“D…Didn’t you know? Just because someone is your soulmate doesn’t mean you are theirs.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you answered, “No. No, I didn’t.” Your voice was choked and strained. Even you could hear it. You took a deep breath. “How did you find out?”

“Because when I first laid eyes on you, I could see color for the first time in my life.”

Was that why he had stared at you in shock? Not because of your actions, but because you were the reason he had color in his life? Your hands trembled in your lap, where they gripped fistfuls of your skirt. All of this was impossible for you to fathom. You would’ve been fine if he wasn’t your soulmate, as long as you weren’t his! But now…now you would be forced to watch him wither away.

“It was so amazing…” he continued, awe laced into his voice. “I could see the blue sky, and the green grass, and the fact that the Dr. Hopper was green too. I could see your hair color, your beautiful eyes, your skin…And it was so amazing.” Nagito scooped up your hands into his. “(Y/n), even if I’m not your soulmate, I’m just glad that I met you at all. Without you, life would be a lot more bland.”

But his words did not reassure you. They did nothing to soothe the ache in your heart. Because no matter how many sweet nothings he whispered into your ear, no matter how many comforts he offered, it would not change the fact that he was not your soulmate.

So you began wailing and threw yourself at him, burying your face in his chest.

   Years later, and you are still searching.

It had been eight years since you discovered the truth about Nagito’s new color palette. You were still together, even after eight years. Nagito never proposed to you, mainly because he knew you would refuse as long as he had the ability to age and you didn’t. Currently, you remained at eighteen while he was twenty-six.

Your relationship was healthy, yes, but it was dismal. You could never enjoy your dates anymore, and with each passing day, the rose he had given you was slowly dying. You were honestly quite surprised it had lasted this long, but you weren’t about to complain.

You were desperate to find your soulmate, if only to age alongside Nagito. Who cared if you were eight years apart? There were much bigger age gaps between couples.

So in order to aid in your goal, you went on tons of dates. You joined dating websites, asked friends to set you up, even went to a dating agency for help. Nagito was not happy with your decision, as he thought you were wasting time with that rather than enjoying the time you had, but you did not care. Surely he would be grateful if you found your soulmate so you could age with him?

“You might just meet him on the street,” Nagito told you, earning a scowl. “That’s how we met, wasn’t it?” But you ignored what he said and went on with your plan.

One day, as you were getting ready for another date, Nagito sat on your bed, just watching you. You could feel his eyes trained on you, but you decided not to address him at all.

“You know, I’m surprised that you’re doing this for a scumbag like me,” he joked with a small smile. “I really am lucky.”

You spun on your heel and snapped, “Stop saying that! You know how much I hate it when you insult yourself…” Normally, you just ignored his self-deprecation. But you were tired of it now. You hated how he insulted himself, saying that he didn’t deserve you, even though you were displaying how much you loved him through your actions.

Nagito realized that he had upset you, and he stood up with a frown replacing his former smile. He lifted one of his hands and gently set it on your cheek. You flinched, but relaxed when you remembered that it was just Nagito. He gave you a smile that was small, but reassuring.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” Nagito apologized, pressing a kiss to your lips. You smiled back at him. “I just think that this is a waste of time. You might as well enjoy the time we have now…”

You scowled and pushed his hand away. “No. I’m going through with this. I will find my soulmate so I can be with you!”

And that was the end of the discussion.

With each day that passed, you felt your hope wither away like your relationship. The two of you became distant. You knew that Nagito loved you just as much as you loved him, but you clearly had different methods of expressing this love.

   Tonight was your nineteen year anniversary.

Nineteen years. Quite surprising for an unmarried couple.

Honestly, your anniversaries were the only times you and he ever gave your full attention to each other. It was the one day where you focused on him, and he focused on you. You would completely forget about your predicament concerning your lack of color and age, and he would use this to his advantage to make you happy.

Nagito was now thirty-seven years old, while you were frozen at eighteen. The few times you were seen in public clearly on a date, you often received many glares from others. Many people scorned him, a middle-aged man, for dating a teenager. Usually, you would respond with a vehement glower of your own. But lately, you’ve been too exhausted to defend yourself.

So you just suffered the glares you could feel burning your head as you sat at a nice, fancy table with Nagito sitting across from you. He took a sip from his wine. Because you were not of the legal drinking age, you were unable to drink alcohol. So you were stuck with boring old water. Water was great and all, but you’d like to enjoy some wine with Nagito. You couldn’t, though.

Which you found ridiculous. You had been eighteen for what—twenty seven years now? Surely that would count for something?

“So, next year, it’ll be twenty happy years together!” chirped Nagito, as optimistic as ever.

“Happy is one word for it,” you said, but added a smile to show that you were simply joking. “Do you have anything special planned for tonight, Nagito?”

Nagito sent a playful wink your way. “You’ll have to wait and see, (Y/n). I’m afraid I might jinx myself if I say it out loud…” His voice trailed off at the end, and you tilted your head to the side in confusion. You jumped up, hitting your knee against the bottom of the table, when he began hacking horribly.

“N-Nagito, are you okay?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your hand on his. But Nagito didn’t respond. He continued coughing and coughing, until you recognized the blood that stained the table. “Nagito!”

You jumped up out of your seat and rushed to his side. Now, everyone was looking at you both. Not with anger or contempt, but with concern and worry. Nagito was still coughing up a fit, and only more blood was coming out of his mouth. The waiter that attended your table dashed to your side and punched in the emergency number, calling for an ambulance.

But before the call could go through, Nagito raised a shaky hand. His coughing had faded away until it ceased completely. A small, weak smile tugged the corners of his lips, and a small trickle of blood escaped out of the corner of his mouth.

“I…I’m fine…” he lied through his teeth. You glared at him, angry that he would even try to persuade you of that. “Waiter, I’m fine. I probably just choked on my wine. Seriously, this happens all the time…”

The waiter was not convinced, but he closed his phone and hurried away. You remained by Nagito’s side, rubbing his back soothingly and glaring at anyone that still stared. Nagito’s chest heaved with each breath that he took. Did he have some sort of disease?

“Nagito…” you said, but Nagito chuckled, cutting you off.

“Stop worrying so much, (Y/n). I’ll be fine.” He wiped away the blood at his mouth and placed a hand on your cheek. You rested your hand over his, squeezing it gently. Your expression softened as you watched him. “Now, we have an anniversary we need to celebrate!”

Even though you would normally scold Nagito for suggesting to continue when he was in such critical condition, you did not want to ruin his mood. He clearly wanted to continue, and you were not about to be the one that stopped it.

“Okay,” you agreed. You motioned for him to scoot aside, and you sat in the booth next to him. You pressed your lips to his cheek. “I’m sure whatever you have planned for me will be great, Nagito.”

   “Nagito! Nagito!”

You sprinted through the white halls of the hospital, pushing past nurses and doctors as you raced to his room. You had received a call half an hour ago from one of the doctors, informing you that he was dead. That his disease had worsened.

That he had asked for euthanasia.

You had never known about his disease. In all your years together, he had never told you about his disease. And the first time you heard about it wasn’t even from him—it was from his doctor, right before telling you that he was dead.

That he had asked for death.

You should’ve known about it. Just a few weeks prior, at your anniversary, he had practically coughed up a lung. Why hadn’t you realized it then?!

You burst into the room where he was being held. Gasps and pants escaped your lips as you reached for a stitch in your side. You limped up to his side, falling to your knees as you covered your mouth with a shaky hand. He was so still, so peaceful, that you could almost mistake him for sleeping. He was as young as ever. It was not his time.

You grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles as if that would convince him to wake up. You murmured his name over and over again, each one being choked with more strained sobs. Tears glistened in your eyes, splattering down onto the bed. One of them hit his hand, and a foolish part of you prayed that he would wake up.

But this was not a fairy tale. This was reality.

If this had been a fairy tale, you would not be going through this in the first place.

Memories of your times together flashed in front of your eyes. You remembered how you had met him. You remembered your fourth date, when he had asked you to be his girlfriend. You remembered when he had frowned when you told him you were going to look for your soulmate.

You remembered when he told you to appreciate the time you had together.

You dropped his hand in shock and covered your mouth. You honestly felt nauseous, close to vomiting. Why hadn’t you listened to Nagito? Why hadn’t you listened to him when he asked you to appreciate the time you both had together? You had been so selfish in indulging your own desires, that you completely forgot about Nagito’s feelings.

How did he feel? Was he completely terrified, when he learned that he was not your soulmate? Was he afraid that you would cut off the relationship? Was he happy when you didn’t? Was he upset when he realized that you were ignoring him so you could find your own soulmate?

You were disgusted by yourself.

“I’m so sorry…” you whimpered, pressing your lips against his cold hand. “I’m so, so sorry, Nagito…I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me…”

You couldn’t even forgive yourself.

   It had been thirty years since Nagito died.

If he was still alive, he would be in his sixties by now.

Honestly, you had stopped keeping track of time with his death. Your parents tried contacting you multiple times, but you ignored all of their calls. Your emotions had been deadened with the news of Nagito’s death, and you doubted that there was any way to revitalize them.

The rose he had given you had died along with him. When you returned from the hospital after visiting him, you came home only to see that all of its petals had fallen off, shriveled to the point where you could crack them like glass them with your fingers. Just as it had marked the beginning of your relationship, it had marked the end as well.

Now, life was just a set schedule for you. You woke up, got ready for the day, went to work, came home, had dinner, went to bed, rinse and repeat. You were completely apathetic. You felt the same thing every single day—complete hollowness. Sometimes, you wondered what exactly pushed you to keep moving forward. Just because you didn’t age didn’t mean you couldn’t die.

That all changed when you bumped into a random man on the street.

Usually, when you walked around the city, you kept your gaze on the ground. You didn’t want to look up and see the park where you had met, or the hospital where he had died without telling you, or the cemetery where you had watched him be buried. You didn’t want to dredge up any bad memories, so you fastened your gaze firmly on your feet.

So you were unable to see the fact that you were about to barrel straight into another person.

As you collapsed to the ground, you heard a frantic, masculine voice apologize, “Oh my goodness! I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

You blinked a few times. That impact had snapped you back into reality for just a moment before your numbed senses returned. You ignored his extended hand for help and pushed yourself to your feet. After dusting yourself off, you looked up to see who you had walked into.

And your world was filled with color.

Slowly but surely, things were soon colored in. Blue washed away the gray of the sky. Green was sprayed over the blades of grass. You could see the color of this man’s eyes. He looked much younger than you—you pinned him to be around sixteen or seventeen. Not yet eighteen.

But you knew that he was your soulmate.

Just then, all your defenses crumbled. Your walls fell down, and tears pooled in your eyes. Sobbing tore from your throat as you hurled yourself at him, holding him tightly in your grasp. He stiffened in shock. He did not even try returning the embrace, too shocked by your sudden actions.

“M-Ma’am?” he said nervously with a squeak. “Are you all right?”

Through your sobs, you were able to answer, “Y-Yes…Now I can wither away.”

Soon, you would see Nagito.

[hrllscrt]

g h o s t 1.1

I don't think I saw it coming. And I still could not actually have it sink it. Is this what they meant by being 'ghosted'? I don't believe it is a real term. But the prolonged silence after a single text telling me that he'll see me soon…could’ve been a red flag. Realizing the situation a tad too slow blocked me from reaching out to him at every social media presence we have in common. That was how I was 'ghosted', I think. 

When someone you love disappears.   

That's all there is. I do not feel the same intensity of pain as I did when it dawned to me that he was never going to get back to me. All that hysterical cries were left behind the minute I got into the plane to leave the place I promised to meet him. All the happiness I brought to share with him, I brought back with me. Maybe coming over to his country, just to meet him was akin to pushing my luck with him. My best bet was that he had no idea how to say that he was not interested. Being less technologically inclined than I was, I found out by accident that he was...living his life like nothing has changed through his public profiles. All the profiles he blocked me from. Seems like...I was the ghost. And I have disappeared without traces. 

Talking it through with someone else did not make the pain hurt any less. I think I am too used to being disappointed with all the men I tried to love that my heart has toughened up like the muscle it is. The pain and sadness, they are still there. But I recover too fast. And now, what was haunting me is my inability to reign my curiosity from nitpicking the reason why he left me. I keep wondering why.

Why do you do this to me? 

Why did you lie? 

Why can't you be honest?  

I am still hurting. And I still go on like nothing happened. Like it was just a bad dream that I was left alone at some foreign land in a small room to cry and fall asleep. Only to wake up and repeat the cycle over and over again.

“I am glad that you found out before it gets so much more complicated,” Andrea mentioned it to her. In the fiction she read, most of the heroine despise being sympathized. It makes her wonder why. Sympathy is a comforting action someone could offer in this sort of situation. It did not make it hurt less but it was a distraction enough to not think of it. 

One year. 

They had been in that long-distance friend/lover relationship for over a year. It was a few days short of one year and four months. They had been talking and it was a shot in the dark for her to find a Japanese friend that could help her with her Japanese. But in the end, they did not talk much on Japanese language. It became a life-line towards an emotional safe-house. 

How in the world did it boil down to her finally gaining that elasticity of emotion to confide to her colleague what actually happened in their meeting room while discussing how to paraphrase their annual review report? 

“Despite what people think, Japan has a high rate of pickpocketing cases,” Farah provided helpfully, reasoning her shocking experience of being pickpocketed just hours before her flight home. 

“For real? That’s crazy. Didn’t they make that social experiment on lost items a few years back? The Japanese didn’t even give those phones and jewellery a second glance,” Angela mused again. “They pick it up to put it somewhere visible,” she added enthusiastically. 

“Yeah...I’m sure if it’s in Malaysia, any smartphones will be in some drug-addict kid’s hand faster than you can say ‘passport’,” she replied back, trying to laugh off the familiar tremor she felt at the memory. Farah’s clicketing on the laptop keyboard slowed. 

“Nah. It’s infamous in our FB backpackers group. Quite a few people encountered this case. And yes, it’s surprising,” Farah informed, pulling Lea by her office chair closer to look at the piece she was writing. 

“Maybe it’s because I was staying at some hostel swarmed with foreigners. It was practically a boarding house with a bar at the ground floor. My bad,” 

Yeah...my bad. 

It was all my fault. I was being too forward. I was expecting too much. I went way over my head and assumed what was not even there. 

“You’ll be fine, Lea. I know you will. I’m glad you got home safely in the end,” 

She looked at Angela and hear those words repeating itself. 

“Yeah. I’m good. Maybe my heart isn’t that broken because my heart had Spartan workouts with previous relationships,” she laughed. “The guy I previously dated was the worst, I think. I cried and cried and it lasted for so long,” 

That was another bad memory. But it seemed nothing compared to this weirdly unusual kind of heartbreak. It was not as painful but she just can’t get over it. It hurts her head more than her heart because...there are too many questions. 

“Maybe it’s just geography, but then again, it must be my age,” 

Yes. I am older. Not wiser. Just too tired to hurt too long. 

“Lea,”

She blinked and saw 3 pairs of eyes watching her. Tom, her boss looked concern; which he rarely does. Tom is a great boss but he’s always on to the next big thing in his checklist that he barely had time to muster any facial expression. 

“Sorry! I was thinking…,” she quickly looked at the map she had on projection while her brain scrambled to materialize some sort of idea. “Is it ok if we just utilize the Green Heart’s web application to let the Indonesian colleague see what we’ve been doing so far? I mean...it could be a great test-drive for the app,” she quipped, dragging her explanation to not sound like she was close to dozing off. 

“Oh. I was just wondering if we could make a new one instead,” Celia, the project manager stated. More like inquired. 

“We could. That won’t be a problem. We can make a separate web app. Since half of the data is already there in the website, it shouldn’t cause eat any more credits than it already has,” she helpfully explained. And everyone jumped to that piece of idea, leaving her some space to drift again. 

“Then I think Lea should go too,” 

Again, she jumped at the mention of her name; clueless. 

“Really?” Tom retorted as he stared at her and she avoided his eyes by searching Celia’s face for some sort of idea on what they had been debating about while she went to her lala land. 

“She knows the system, Tom. Practically built it. I think she could kick up some schnazzy jazz on the technical stuff so that the Japanese officer won’t be so skeptical about using the system,”

She gulped and wanted to say something but they were acting like she wasn’t there. 

“I mean, Lea could just train Becca. She doesn’t have to go all the way to Tokyo’s office to do just that,” Tom mused, scratching his chin by habit and casted down his sight to his laptop. Not a good sign. He’s seriously considering this?!

Her heart dropped. 

No no no.

“Boss...I agree with you. I mean, it is landscape monitoring. Becca would be the best person to present the web app to the Japan office. I can just start training her now and she should be fine by then,” she tossed her first line of defense. 

She can’t go there. She doesn’t want to go there. No more.

“Eh, Lea. Don’t sell yourself short. This is your chance to go there and meet up with them. Perhaps go there and have a good time for a change,” Celia urged with all good intentions. Practically the whole office knew about the disaster she had at the Narita Airport. She still breaks into a cold sweat every time she goes to the airport. It doesn’t matter which airport. She won’t ever forget it. 

Tom leaned back and she could practically see his thoughts going back and forth like her 20 year old metronome at home. She has to think fast. What could discourage him...fund! Spatial planning team certainly did not plan for this kind of trip!! 

“The Green Heart project fund was projected for more than 50K last financial year but I think we barely used 30% of it. Maybe if we could just calculate it into this financial year and justified it by delayed project field work should be fine. Becca did come on-board later than we expected,” Celia added, nailing her coffin tight. 

Tom nodded. 

“We’ll see about that but I think Lea can start to work with Becca on this. Just in case,”

It has always been up for discussion...whatever that Tom agrees to is always up for further discussion but she knew she had nowhere to run off too without making herself look like a wimp. She’d rather die than jeopardize her work that she worked her butt off. She nodded and smiled thinly. 

“When will this meeting be anyway?” she asked at some futile attempt to cook any scheduling conflict. 

“We were planning it to be in March,” Tom informed. That’s a long time coming. It’s not even October yet. “But I think we may need to go there earlier since Becca has alot to catch up and we need to start going for the field work and collect the ground-truthing data you’ve been asking for,” 

Lea nodded again and tried not to think too deeply about it. It could happen in a month or two but he could change his mind along the way, so she’s still safe. Or so she thought. 

Three months later, she confirmed the universal truth. Tom is a real jackass.

It was cold. 

They were already out of the airport but her gut was dragging her every step like she’d swallowed cement. She had been feeling that way since she boarded Japan Airlines at KLIA yesterday evening; local time. Lea was beginning to doubt her own psychological state. What was it that she was so uncomfortable with? Airports? Or being in Japan itself? The fear of some impending doom hung over her like a personal microclimate. She kept telling herself that it will be different this time. That this is just the right moment to take ‘vengeance’ on the tragedy that happened to her here a few months back. This time, she’s not alone. Becca is with her and Tom will be flying in tomorrow. 

She still can’t believe that Tom ruthlessly kicked her ass all the way back to Japan. She practically told him how stupid she was to be pick-pocketed and all the drama-worthy things she had to go through just to get back to Malaysia in one piece. 

“It’s good that you’ve learned your lesson,” he mused. 

She could’ve laughed at herself if it wasn’t too sad. She has always been emotional. But being so emotionally erratic that she is close to being unresponsive externally is a loud call for help. 

They went on to board the train heading towards Tokyo as soon as they’ve taken their luggage. It was deja vu for her when she tapped her Suica train pass and waited for the train to Tokyo station. She chatted with Becca about the possible output from the coming meeting with the stakeholders. Thinking of work helps to ease her anxiety and made it so much easier to get to know the new colleague. Becca, having lived in Tokyo for almost 3 years prior, enthused over the possibility of meeting her Japanese friends in town. It was close to 9 pm when they finally boarded off. Becca asked her if she wanted to walk to the hotel, she’d flatly decline. There was no way she was going to walk to a hotel she has not seen before through some unknown road while following her phone’s GPS. 

“You’re too funny, Lea. There’s no way I’m going to drag these luggage all the way there!”

Lea was glad that Becca’s dry sense of humor finally emerged to match hers. They are colleagues but Becca had only been with them for a little more than 2 months. With the mobile nature of their industry, the employees in their non-profit organization naturally take their time to warm up to the new addition to the family. She herself barely sees Tom more than a few times a month; and that is considered lucky. When they did arrive at the hotel, Becca immediately checked both of them in before announcing that she needed to rush out to catch a former colleague who happens to be nearby. 

“I’m so sorry!” Becca called out to her as Lea got into the elevator with both of their luggage after refusing the bell boy’s help. 

“It’s totally fine, Becca! Have fun ok?” she yelled out, causing heads to turn. Ignoring the stares, she pressed ‘17’. The ‘17’ button did not light up and she tried swiping her key card again before pressing ‘17’. The elevator door stayed open, indicating that she was again unsuccessful. Increasingly irritated and refusing to go through the trouble to dragging two luggages out of the elevator just to get help, she tried again. And again. She cussed the fact that the elevator was so ‘deep-seated’ into the wall and conveniently angled at the blindspot. Screaming for help is not an option.

So immersed was she that she jumped when someone entered the elevator. Ashamed, she tried ignoring them and letting one of them swipe their card so that she could see how to correctly do it. The man did it while the woman leaned back with a tired sigh. Definitely a couple. 

10.

Just her luck. She was hoping that they were going to the same floor. Pretending that she was at the same floor with them, she just rode along. But when the elevator finally opened, she saw that only the woman got off. Increasingly embarrassed, she pressed the lobby button and pretended to watch the floor numbers light change. It felt like forever. When the elevator door dinged open, she waited for the man to get off, but he did not move. Getting a little nervous, she tried inserting her key-card but in her hurry, it dropped. 

��Sumimasen,” she apologized, invading his personal space to pick up the card near his shoes. 

Sneakers?

The dark blue sneakers looked new and she unwittingly stared at it while getting up. Not wanting to meet his eyes, she tried her key-card again. 

“Do you need help?” 

She darted her eyes towards the sound of the male voice. His English words caught her off-guard with its lack of the common Japanese accent. The man wore a black sharp-fitting blazer over a band-collared white shirt  and was looking at her. But she stupidly looked around to be sure that it was really just them. 

“Ah...hai,” she replied, dumbfounded. “Doesn’t work,” she added dangling the key card and felt her corner of her lip raised automatically. She can’t help it when her nonchalant ignorant demeanor take over. It was better to pretend that she’s brash than to be overly sensitive to her surroundings. He smiled back. 

“May I…?” he asked, pointing at her key-card. She surrendered the card to him against her better judgement. He slipped the key-card in. “Here, wait for the light to blink green twice, then press your floor button,” he informed. 

“Oh! Thank you so much!” she exhaled in relief, not caring if he was a stranger. He chuckled. While the elevator moved, she suddenly realized that he did not swipe his own card.

“Oh my gosh…you didn’t swipe your card!” she exclaimed. He looked at her and when she really did look at him, she realized that he was incredibly tall and lanky. He was easily 6 feet. He seemed to take a minute to digest what she said and suddenly winced like she’d caught him stealing. 

“Yeah I did not,” he agreed. 

“I’m so sorry!” 

“No, no...it’s alright,” he intersect her apology. So did the elevator door as they stopped at the 17th floor. 

“Thank you so much,” she informed him, struggling to drag the luggage out and shushing off his attempt to assist. “Don’t worry about me and please have a pleasant evening,” 

She waited until the elevator door closes before searching for her room. Her thoughts wondered at the encounter with the man in the elevator. In the past, she would’ve felt internally excited or naively romanticize the situation. In fact, if her memory is a book, she would’ve bookmarked that incident and go back to it over and over again to give her heart the comfortable warmth of optimism. Watching herself in the bathroom mirror, she smiled. 

Maybe she should. Because happiness is nothing but fleeting in her case. She could just love someone and let it be confined to that one moment in time and nothing more. Third time's a charm.     

[jtq1844]

One day into this and I’m already behind ...

Where did the day go?  So much for taking this opportunity to build in some writing discipline into my life.  I actually have a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing (Antioch University -- Los Angeles, 2017).  It started out as “an external goal” in 2015, something to try after we moved as empty-nesters up to Washington State from Santa Cruz.  The program is “low residency,” meaning it is mostly online.  I had had a few stories published already, so I had reason to think it was doable.  I like story-telling.  I like writing.  What I discovered was that, while I have some writing competency, I don’t exactly have a passion for it. 

Here is one of the CNF essays from my official portfolio to amuse you until I compose a more heartfelt and informative post for tomorrow … er, I mean, today … um.  You know what I mean.

-=-=-=-

Sister Clorina, Saint Blaise and Doubting Thomas by Jean Tschohl Quinn

    It can take years to come to an understanding about something. Alternatively, an understanding can barrel into consciousness like a grand and glorious epiphanic elephant.  Sometimes, both happens. I love paradox.  I adore the celestial AND. It is in this sort of epiphany, decades in the making, that I found Bahá'u'lláh.

    Sister Clorina hated me. No. That’s too strong. She simply did not like any girls not named Mary. She didn’t like me in particular because she had suddenly been “demoted” to second grade from fourth grade where my sister Mary was -- sweet, clever, pious and faithful.  How could I compete?  My best friend then was named Mary too.  Mary Wirhanowicz was also sweet, clever, pious and faithful. I hold no grudge against the average Mary. They’ve got the whole Blessed Virgin Mother expectation thing to deal with and had no choice in the matter because that was their collective given name. It is, apparently, a lot of pressure. There is the occasional exception of the BVM standard when there are multiple Marys in a single classroom.  Some of them get an out if they had, say, a younger sibling who called them something else and the teacher approved for clarity’s sake.  One of my grandmothers was one of those. There were several Mary’s in her one-room schoolhouse in Nova Scotia. Her younger brothers and sisters called her Mayme already and so she was dubbed in the classroom and life in general. To this day, I consider her the sanest person I’ve ever met. However, in my second grade classroom, Sister Clorina felt she had reason to suspect me as nefarious.  First, I was not named Mary.  Second, I was “philosophical.”  

     Her move down to second grade was precipitated by Sister Marie Madison’s hasty withdrawal from the convent life after only a month with our class.  We were informed that we had simply “driven her crazy.”  Mea culpa.  Mea culpa.  Mea maxima culpa. (That’s not quite accurate; it was post-Vatican-II. We didn’t actually learn any Latin.)  The girls of the class all knew the blame rested solely on the antics of Vince Wederath, Brian Doherty, and Eddie Marx. They were the bad boys. Maybe Tim Relihan too. We were sure of it. Twelve or so years after the fact, I bumped into Eddie on a bus as I headed home from college for a weekend of free laundry and food.  He was still proud of his part in the good sister’s loss of faith. We choose our triumphs; this apparently was one of Eddie’s.

    Sister Clorina emanated a stern energy.  I cannot tell you whether she was tall or short from my second-grader memory, but I do recall her immense energy.  Sometimes, she’d fill in on the organ at Mass when the ridiculously cherubic Sister Acquitaine was overwrought or under the weather.  Sister Acquitaine was the music teacher.  She felt my brother Kevin’s musical talent was extraordinary -- it is – and so she kept him in at recess for violin lessons because we already had a violin that Grampa Hanson had picked up at St. Vinnie’s for $7 in 1967.  Kevin did not like missing recess. He abandoned the violin at his earliest possible convenience. I still have and play that violin, mainly because no one else had a use for it. I have always felt that I have a right only to that which is of no use to anyone else. It’s a youngest child thing. In second grade, I even went so far as to claim my favorite color as moss green because I felt sorry for it.  

    In any case, Sister Clorina as a substitute organist kept the tempo “up” much to the consternation of the older folks. My family liked it that way; it was zippy. She would shout over her shoulder, “Hymn number 8.”  Only I thought she was saying “Hit number 8” like Casey Kasem might, so I thought we were going to sing Winchester Cathedral or Last Train to Clarksville depending on the week. I somehow knew never to expect Wild Thing.  

     I had high hopes as Sister Clorina glowered over us in the hall outside the classroom. I reached for her hand, trying to be the brown-noser I knew myself to be.  She sniffed and tucked her arm inside her surplus.  Her disdain for me was immediate.

    First grade had been a long line of substitute teachers after Mrs. Conti-Morgan left to give birth after an entirely crabby last month. She and Mrs. Lambert, a squat dynamic storyteller, in the fifth grade were the only lay teachers in the school.  Second grade looked like the beginning of a whole new world. I was finally going to be close enough to a nun to touch one.

    After Sister Marie Madison bailed on us in the second-grade, I suspect Sister Clorina took the move from her already beloved fourth grade class to our clearly evil second grade as a demotion. The smaller four and fifth grade classes would be combined with the incredible Mrs. Lambert at the helm. My sister Mary was immediately named co-chair with Mrs. Lambert of their mutual admiration society. Mary has that mysterious charm that immediately made her teacher’s pet. Every time.  

    My year with Sister Clorina should have been a good one.  She did Science. We studied the classic simple machines: lever, incline plane, screw, pulley, wedge, and wheel and axle.  She even pointed out that a screw is really just an incline plane wrapped around a pivot point. This was good stuff. We learned about meteorology and taxonomy. Why wasn’t it working?  For one thing, she had no joy once Mary Wirhanowicz got really sick and was gone for weeks.  I brought homework to Mary and back to school regularly.  Did I get any credit for helping the BVM wannabe?  No I did not. Looking for credit is always a sure way to not get any. I was dead last in the rankings of teacher’s pet, even behind Renee Kucze and she NEVER adhered to the dress code.  

    Mary eventually recovered and returned to class. My only hope was merit by association.  No luck. Christmas rolled around and the requisite study of the Nativity. We learned about the Magi, those astrologers from the East. The question was obvious, so I asked it, “If they understood how important Jesus was before He was even born, shouldn’t we be studying their Religion?”  Sister Clorina never called on me again.  

    Second grade crawled on. I was dying to ask about the blessing of the throats on Saint Blaise Day, February 3, but I couldn’t ask Sister Clorina. I thought the hubbub was kind of cool -- how we’d line up and have blest candles criss-crossed about our necks with a little prayer for health offered – but still didn’t understand it.  My mom, who was much more informed and cynical than I could have realized then, knew a little about it. One of the miracles attributed to Saint Blaise was miraculously saving someone from choking. His “day” was the day after Candlemas, February 2, when families traditionally brought in all their candles to be sanctified.  

    “While this is completely pointless in the 20th century,” she postulated, “imagine what candles meant to a family three hundred, five hundred, seven hundred years ago.”  Having them blest would be a prudent gesture to Christians throughout Old Europe and the Byzantine Empire, she hoped I would agree. In my limited comprehension, however, I continued to attempt reconciliation of all of this with Groundhog Day.  Maybe the flicker of candles cast interesting shadows on any groundhogs popping out of holes on the same day.  

    By Lent, I knew better than to ask questions. During the required Tuesday-after-school Stations of the Cross, I languished with questions.  It’s not three days between the afternoon of Good Friday and dawn of Easter Sunday.  It’s two. Much later, I learned that the Jewish day starts at sundown, so it was definitely only two days. I did not dare ask. And the renaming of Simon to Peter, the rock.  What was that about? That was a whole lot of palaver over one little verse and the power that Saul/Paul grabbed anyway. I didn’t get it and couldn’t ask.

    At Pentecost, I remember sitting amiably in the pew, gently kicking at the kneeler after the Gospel Reading, followed by a rambling homily about Doubting Thomas. He misses a visit from the post-Resurrection Christ and demands physical proof.  Christ does come to revisit and offers Thomas a chance to “probe the nail holes.”  Thomas believes even though there’s no record of him poking his fingers anywhere – seriously not in a single one of the four Gospels -- just being with Him again is sufficient.  Christ then adds “blessed are they that have not seen but still believe.”  

    Yes, I committed to myself – kick, kick, kick -- I will never be like Doubting Thomas, needing proof like that.  To this day, I have never witnessed any firsthand wowza moment. Some friends of mine have hosted these remarkable, spiritual ongoing events where miracles of joy, epiphany and synchronicity are a regular occurrence for years. Long-lost friends reunite. Extraordinary fund-raising. Mysterious healings. You name it. Whenever I show up, it’s invariably an “off night.” My friend who has witnessed it all invariably shrugs and says, “I don’t know what happened this time. Maybe it was the traffic.”  I trust their reality.  I have to, because I wasn’t there.  

    I was still mindlessly kicking the kneeler.  Why didn’t they recognize Christ as Jesus when meeting Him after the Resurrection? Seriously, they don’t recognize Him at first. Why would that be? What was the big deal about a physical resurrection anyway? The Old Testament was full of them.  I could get the importance of a spiritual one – I thought: Peter … Rock … denied Him and the hiding … rock rolled away … blah, blah, blah … Didn’t Jesus call His followers His body?  I was not about to ask questions. The symbolism worked so much better than literal story.  Don’t ask; don’t tell.  Just get through second grade.

    By the end of that year, Father Podolak, that gentle, rambling soul who would eventually preside over my wedding years later, announced that the school would be closing at June. My sister and I were devastated.  My brothers and older sisters were already going off to junior high and senior high school, mercifully saved from attending more Catholic school by the cost of tuition times six. Mary and I lay in bed with the blankets kicked off, feeling entombed by the muggy heaviness of Wisconsin in the summer bemoaning our fate, a public school education with their loose morals and strange ways.  Of this we were sure.  No potentially free music lessons from Sister Acquitaine; no exciting tales about WWI in Italy from Mrs. Lambert; no stern preparation for junior high from Sister Rhodelia whose great contribution to our family was her encouragement to my parents that my shy, nervous, older sister Jackie would achieve every regular thing, just in her own time. We were off to public school and weekly Catholic CCD (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine.  I kid you not).

    How wrong we were! At the public school, we got free music lessons on any instrument we chose from hip young musicians; one for band instruments, the other for strings (my choice, obviously).  And Mrs. Grossman taught us singing. She really liked how Mary (either one) and I sang together.  By the following Christmas, my sister now a fifth grader and I a third grader sang in front of an audience of hundreds a harmonized duet of Mel Torme’s A Christmas Song. Afterwards Brian Doherty spoke directly to me, probably the only time he ever did, “You have guts. Double guts.” Respect. I don’t remember seeing him after that.

   We also had a regular dedicated art teacher, Miss Sanford.  She got a nose job the following summer and nobody recognized her when she returned. The best part was, my third grade teacher, Miss Nawrocki. She looked like a Barbie doll. She wore wigs of different colors and lengths. She got married halfway through the year and became Mrs. Raniewicz. Dang.  We had just conquered spelling capital-N A W R O C K I. She directed a class musical. I had lunch with her a couple of years ago.  She is still awesome, although significantly shorter than I thought. Public school was fine. Better than fine. It was great. To heck with you, Sister Clorina.

    Around ninth grade, Confirmation rolled around. It was time for me to publicly commit to God and His Church, whatever that meant. Among the somewhat arbitrary options for going through a Catholic Confirmation is taking a new name.  It has little or no intrinsic meaning within Western cultures, but the vestigial tradition hangs on.  My 15-year-old self was interested in saving the world by becoming a medical doctor – didn’t happen: boys, booze, and a reading disability derailed that vague idea during the first semester of college – so I chose the name “Blaise” as my Confirmation name.  I had mistakenly thought he was the patron saint of physicians. I was a piss-poor researcher back then too.  So many of his miracles had to do with healing, particularly having to do with throat ailments and choking. Who am I kidding?  I claimed the name Blaise because the choice was due the week after the whole Candlemas/Saint Blaise weirdness -- exactly forty days after Christmas. What was this thing with forty days anyway?  Noah in the Ark, Jesus in the desert, Buddha under the Bodi Tree, the Prophet Mohammad in a cave.  There’s Lent.  There are periods of mourning, of fasting or of thanksgiving in most belief systems.  

    In any case, my choice of Blaise, a male name, upset a fair few people, so I had to write a couple of letters to some persnickety council of some kind. The request was okayed … with reservations. The actual Confirmation was forgettable other than choir director being in a car accident on the way there, so the choir – which included my mother, my sister Mary, Mary Wirhanowicz and me – had to wing it.  

    “So why was the name Blaise so important to you?” Father Podolak asked me months later.

    “Well, if this spirituality stuff doesn’t work out, ‘Blaze’ is a good name for a stripper.” The words were out of my mouth before I ran them through my brain. I kept walking.  

    The next time I saw Fr. P, he said, “Jean, do you know how we make holy water?”

    “You bless it?” I stammered.  

     “No, you boil the Hell out of it.”  He smiled apologetically and gently clarified, “That was a joke.”  

    I chatted with a priest at a wedding I was hired to sing for a few years later, I mentioned the parish I grew up in. The priest said, “Ah!  Bill Podolak, a kind man.”

    “Yes, indeed.” I was running out of things to say.

    “… not a dynamic speaker.”

    “No, indeed.”  We laughed, all too cruelly I believe.

   In spite of my bad research skills, Saint Blaise continues to intrigue me. Having been martyred by being beaten to death with iron combs used for wool combing and carding, Saint Blaise has since been associated with any trade having to do with wool since the Middle Ages, not the healing arts. So, after all the hubbub about me picking a male saint’s name, perhaps it works for me.  After all, what is my essay-writing but glorified wool-gathering?  

    The year after my Confirmation, I lived in Tunisia through a foreign exchange program the same summer that Monty Python’s Flying Circus filmed Life of Brian a mere 100 kilometers away.  I did not find out until just after my return to the US, by watching an episode of Saturday Night Live hosted by Eric Idle.  His monologue was about the long, sad love songs Tunisians sing with such relish and the ubiquity of jasmine there. Mr. Idle’s monologue went over like a fart in church as the saying goes.  My family, however, laughed spasmodically as they recalled the similar stories from my letters home. Dad with his ever-present bowl of popcorn balanced on his chest, fell off the couch chortling. Mr. Idle’s underappreciated monologue notwithstanding, my summer in Tunisia changed my perceptions of just about everything. I had lived with a Moslem family in a Moslem neighborhood in a Moslem village. They valued education and kindness, respect and humor, the individual and the collective. The child peeking out of the doorway to see the American girl may have looked like an advertisement for C.A.R.E., but I came to know that her family loved her abundantly, fed her regularly if frugally, and had dreams and hopes for her.  Neshua, the daughter of my host family closest to my age, and I were invited to several homes. Some of those invitations were offered because I was a curiosity to the village. In most of the humbler homes, there was a carpet in the works, a large frame taking up a wall in their main living space.  A color plot hung taped to one of the loom’s posts.  I learned to knot and trim the wool according to the plot, to shift the heddle and weft shuttle, to tamp work with the kleleh to compact the threads.  We sat together, partly in fellowship, partly to contribute to the household. One little girl elbowed her way next to me knotting two to my one and announce that she would teach me the Arabic alphabet. “C’est très important” for me to learn how to read Arabic. I never did, except for “Coca-Cola” which I suspect had more to do with it being on large red billboards.

    I was quite full of myself. Eventually the lessons of that summer, about the oneness of Religion, not the Arabic alphabet, sunk in. No longer would the coat of we’re-right/they’re-wrong Christianity fit me properly.  

    Eventually, I was off to college where at some point I made out with a guy who decided to become a priest.  I think there may be something more to process about that.  Maybe not.  I ended up eventually working in Washington DC and met my future husband Mike at a Trivial Pursuit party in the apartment complex we both lived in.  We were both Arabic-speaking (although mine was pretty patchy), left-handed (which has its own complications in Middle Eastern countries), green-eyed Catholics.  It was Kismet.  Oh, and we both preferred to drink milk with pizza. Like I said, Kismet. We went through all the Catholic wedding hoops and started our family when I got pushed onto a spiritual journey by a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses.  While the JW logic never worked for me, I will forever be grateful to Betty and LaVonne for starting me on the journey.  Here I will skip chapters full of synchronicities that only Baha’is would find amusing, we attended some meetings referred to as Firesides after moving to San Jose, California a few years later.

    The speaker one evening expounded on the subject of Progressive Revelation.  In brief, Progressive Revelation encompasses the idea that Religion is unfolding over time as humanity becomes ready for a fuller understanding of the true nature of Reality. The speaker went on to offer examples of how Judaism begot Christianity and primarily affected Europe in its initial reach and development. Likewise, Hinduism begot Buddhism which moved out to Asia.  Islam is also Abrahamic but was couched in Zoroastrian customs as well. It spread into North Africa, the Middle East, Oceania.  The Baha’i Faith was revealed just as the world needed to start thinking globally, in the mid-19th century.  Any corruption of Religion has to do with mankind messing with it, not with the purity of the original Message.  This made some sense to me, but I didn’t know anything about Zoroaster. The speaker recognized my raised eyebrow-of-confusion and explained.  

    The moment the speaker explained that the primary understanding of Zoroastrianism in the West would be the Zodiac. He also mentioned that the priesthood was referred to as the Magi, as in the “astrologers from the East.” In that moment, all the disparate thoughts from the time I was seven onward coalesced in my mind’s eye like a jigsaw puzzle completing itself. I wiggled in my seat in excitement, trying not to disturb the tiny middle-aged woman of Asian descent or the black man next to me who had fallen asleep. He was snoring full out and no one was perturbed by it. His wife, a white woman at least a head taller than he was, later explained that he had had a stroke during brain surgery a few years before and often fell asleep. The oneness of God, the oneness of Humanity, the oneness of Religion all made sense to me. In that blink of an eye, I saw the interlocking of fact and legend, of the Magi and the Baby, of tradition and skepticism. I was back with Sister Clorina, Saint Blaise, and my family in Tunisia.

    It was both in an instant and over the course of my lifetime up to that point that I came to this understanding. A few weeks after that night, Mike and I together declared our Faith in Bahá'u'lláh, that is to say, became adherents to the Baha'i Faith. We have found our lives infinitely richer because of that choice, so have our children (so they tell me).  It is not easy to always keep in mind that each and every person that exists or did exist or will exist is unique and beloved by God, or that our individual Free Wills can send us in all different directions, or that "This is the changeless Faith of God, eternal in the past, eternal in the future" as Bahá'u'lláh says. In fact, it's mostly challenging. Building Heaven on Earth is not for sissies. However, I know it is the right thing for me to pursue.

    I still do not get my faith confirmed by fantastical measures.  I’d love to see a crowd of people collectively gung their foreheads with the heels of their hands that the oneness of Humanity is a fact and the work it will take for every person to feel loved and beloved as the family we are will be worth the effort and sacrifice.  I’d love to see someone healed miraculously.  I still get the sense that I won't ever witness events like that first hand.  

    Occasionally, I do witness people who die with grace or see a smile generated from a purely motivated kindness perpetrated on an unsuspecting grump. It is things like that -- tiny, lovely indications that my spiritual path is worth toddling upon – with which I chose to be satisfied. I promised myself so long ago that it would be enough.

     Sister Clorina was only in my life for six months over fifty years ago.  She still pops into my head, usually when I am accused of being “too sensitive” about something. I’d love to prove to you that she’s not important to me now, but you’ll just have to take that on faith.

[gyrlversion]

RICHARD LITTLEJOHN: A cabinet with Mary Berry to heal Brexit division?

The latest wizard wheeze for breaking the Brexit deadlock is the formation of a new government of national unity.

Supporters of the idea include former PM John Major and Labour’s Nonce Finder General Tom Watson. 

Major said on Sunday that a cross-party Cabinet may be needed ‘in the national interest’ to avoid an unprecedented constitutional and political crisis.

Oh, yes.

The latest wizard wheeze for breaking the Brexit deadlock is the formation of a new government of national unity. Safer to install Mary Berry, I’d have thought, alongside David Attenborough as Father of the Nation

It would be the first time such a government had been brought into existence since World War II. Back then, Labour and the Tories joined forces to fight Hitler.

Some people might find the suggestion superficially attractive. But there is one, glaring, fundamental difference between 1940 and the present day.

During the war, Rodney, Britain faced an existential threat from a foreign aggressor. 

Bombs were raining down on our cities and we were staring military defeat in the face. 

Today, the crisis we face is self-inflicted. Or, rather, inflicted upon us by the very same people now offering to form a government of national unity.

The only reason we have a constitutional impasse is because the political class have declared war on the British people.

Supporters of the idea a government of national unity include former PM John Major and Labour’s Nonce Finder General Tom Watson (pictured)

If they’d respected the instruction given to them by a clear majority of voters in a referendum which Parliament overwhelmingly supported, there wouldn’t be any crisis. 

Instead, they have moved heaven and earth to defy democracy and overturn the result.

The idea that Tommy Watson now says he is willing to serve alongside Tories is hilarious. 

He’s spent the past few years smearing the Conservatives as a party of evil child molesters.

Same goes for Pixie Balls-Cooper, who harbours a visceral hatred for Conservatives, yet has also indicated her readiness to accept a senior position in such a government. 

Maybe they both think that with Labour in the grip of the Corbynistas, it would be their last chance of holding high office.

Other prominent supporters of the plan include fanatical Remainers such as Tory Nicky Morgan and the ubiquitous Soubry Loo.

When such politicians speak of forming a government of national unity, however, what they actually mean is a government of People Like Them. 

Their real aim is to stop Brexit from ever happening.

Funny how all the names being touted to form a Cabinet ‘in the national interest’ appear to have been drawn from the Remain camp. 

No one seems to be suggesting it should, for instance, include Nigel Farage, despite the fact that he speaks for millions of disenfranchised people who voted Leave.

And once Parliament had stitched up a cosy consensus of like-minded ministers from across all parties, where would the Opposition come from? 

It wouldn’t be cross-party, it would be a one-party state — the Remain Party.

Prue Leith (left) would be a popular choice to take over as PM with Nadiya Hussain (right), the 2015 Bake Off winner, as Foreign Secretary

The only way a government of national unity could work is if politicians weren’t allowed within a mile of it. 

They have proved beyond reasonable doubt that they are genetically incapable of bringing the nation together.

So who could heal our divisions? If we were to create what used to be called a Government Of All The Talents, who would be in it?

Obviously the Queen wouldn’t want anything to do with this fiasco, so Helen Mirren could stand in for Her Maj as head of state, although these days Olivia Colman is first choice for The Crown. 

If we wanted to skip a generation, there’s Claire Foy.

Safer to install Mary Berry, I’d have thought, alongside David Attenborough as Father of the Nation. 

Prue Leith would be a popular choice to take over as PM with Nadiya, the 2015 Bake Off winner, as Foreign Secretary.

At the Treasury, we’d need someone who knows how to run a business. Maybe David Jason, in his Still Open All Hours role, would fit the bill, proving that Britain is still a nation of shopkeepers.

John Major said on Sunday that a cross-party Cabinet may be needed ‘in the national interest’ to avoid an unprecedented constitutional and political crisis

He certainly couldn’t do much worse than Spread Fear Phil. And if we were looking for more diversity, we could draft in Navid, of Harrid’s Convenience Store in the BBC Scotland sitcom Still Game. 

Plenty of candidates for the Home Office, too. Keeley Hawes, from Bodyguard, or Line Of Duty’s Adrian Dunbar, .

Judi Dench would take control of national security and Idris Elba would finally don the mantle of James Bond, and be sent to Brussels with a Licence To Kill.

Jamie Oliver is a shoo-in for Minister of Food. And we’d have to find something for Ant and Dec, David Walliams and that Killing Eve and Fleabag woman who seems to have become a National Treasure overnight.

The Ministry of Defence would go to Joanna Lumley, after her sterling work in support of the Gurkhas. 

And, obviously, Dawn French would become Archbishop of Canterbury. That’s assuming Michael Palin wasn’t available.

Department of Culture? A toss up between Lenny Henry and Alan Bennett, although I’d be inclined to go for Wilko Johnson, from Dr Feelgood and Game Of Thrones.

Who better to take over at Environment than Uncle Bulgaria, from the Wombles, currently leading the Mail’s litter pick-up on Wimbledon Common.

That’s the easy part. It would be essential to appoint a tough cookie to lead the Brexit negotiations. 

Sir Humphrey Appleby, from Yes, Minister, would have been Mrs May’s choice, but after the dog’s breakfast left behind by Olly Robbins, no civil servant should be involved.

We should give Topshop boss Philip Green the chance to rehabilitate his reputation. I’d pay good money to see the look on Michel Barnier and Jean-Claude Drunker’s faces when they came up against Green’s bargaining technique. He could take along Mike Ashley, from Sports Direct.

They’d be guaranteed to come back with a better deal than Mrs May. And the delegation should also include a couple of dedicated Brexiteers, such as Johnny Rotten, in his Sex Pistols incarnation, and Roger Daltrey, from The Who.

We won’t get fooled again. 

Another sneering Channel 4 Snow job

Channel 4’s self-regarding Leftie Jon Snow flaunts his moral superiority by sneering at pro-Leave marchers: ‘I’ve never seen so many white people.’

I have. On the pro-Remain demo in London the previous week. Snow obviously wasn’t looking hard enough.

One of the most striking images on the Leave march was a black chap in a Union Jack outfit.

Still, what else does anyone expect? Snow, the kind of man who confuses novelty socks for a sense of humour, never misses a trick when it comes to parading his right-on credentials.

Frankly, given his blatant political bigotry, I’m surprised he hasn’t changed his name by deed poll.

Snow? Sounds hideously white to me.

Back in the high life again

A Hurricane fighter plane, which was shot down during the Battle of Britain, has been recovered from the Thames Estuary. There are plans to restore the plane, in the hope that one day it may take to the skies again.

Presumably, if the restoration is successful, the Hurricane will immediately be transferred to one of our two new, multi-billion pound aircraft carriers, which were commissioned by Gordon Brown without any planes to fly off them.

Bradford man Qasim Hussain upset animal rights activists by travelling to Pakistan to take part in the World Camel Weightlifting Contest. His camel managed to lift him and several bags of rocks weighing 1.7 tons, the equivalent of a family car

A Bradford man has upset animal rights activists by travelling to Pakistan to take part in the World Camel Weightlifting Contest.

Qasim Hussain emerged victorious for the second year in a row after his camel managed to lift him and several bags of rocks weighing 1.7 tons, the equivalent of a family car.

He said: ‘Some people say it’s cruel. But you have to be with the camel at all times and sleep in the same room.’ 

Hussain intends returning next year to go for his hat-trick. Better still, they should stage the contest in Bradford next time. It could be a huge attraction, right up there with dwarf-tossing.

But to make things more humane, why not turn the tables and tell competitors to lift the camels, rather than the other way round?

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[universeinform-blog]

Mothers of young couple who ‘adored’ each other embrace at funeral

New Post has been published on https://universeinform.com/2017/03/31/mothers-of-young-couple-who-adored-each-other-embrace-at-funeral/

Mothers of young couple who ‘adored’ each other embrace at funeral

The grief-stricken mothers of a teenage couple who died in street traffic collision last week held each different in an extended embody on Thursday as the second of their funerals concluded.

Delia Keary (18) and Gary Kelly (18) were killed when the automobile wherein they had been journeying collided with a truck close to Abbeyfeale, Co Limerick.

At St Joseph’s Church in Ennis, Gary’s mother, Kim, was the primary to walk throughout the aisle to Delia’s mother, Rosie Gilboy, to sympathize with her on the death of her handiest baby. The two mothers held every different tightly as former faculty pals of the young couple at Rice College sang a commencement year tune in their memory.

A message from Delia’s mother become examine to the congregation, announcing: “Delia cherished Gary and he cherished her and he or she couldn’t have wished for an extra perfect boy to be with her.” different messages were read from friends of the couple, a lot of whom had also attended Gary’s funeral in Ennis on Wednesday.

All her pals informed of ways lots she cherished and loved Gary and approximately how plenty whilst on nights out, she would message Gary from all her buddies’ telephones pronouncing ‘I miss Gary’,” an own family friend instructed the congregation.

“Another buddy said that Gary fell in love with Delia the moment he met the six-foot stunner even as Some other pal stated that ‘Gary could thoughts her now like he usually did, so we shouldn’t fear’.”

Any other buddy recalled how “Delia was so lucky to have a Mum like Rosie and she or he should speak to her approximately something”, at the same time as Every other said “I suppose that everybody fell in love with Delia, her excellent smile, her crazy imagination and her deep blue eyes and the love that she certainly radiated”.

Some other buddy said Delia “is someone who would assist us at our lowest, elevate us better at our first-rate and make the relaxation of our time really worth dwelling

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GNLD Global (Golden Neo-Life Diamite) is a worldwide company delivering organic whole food vitamins supplements to fitness aware people considering that 1958 and GNLD nutritional merchandise are especially advocated to be used by means of pregnant girls and people who are presently breastfeeding.

Aid for all girls

GNLD offers a whole line of top rate pleasant supplements to offer nutrient Support for watching for women as well as mothers who’re nursing. These nutritional can assist mothers to complement the key nutrients which are essential for mother and baby. Pregnant women want a variety of dietary Aid, even after giving birth. Moms have to fill up their delivery of vitamins for his or her infant’s sake.

Seasoned Vitality P.C.

The GNLD Pro Vitality % is considered one of the numerous multi-nutritional products from GNLD. Each % incorporates an equal wholesome vitamin you may get from a regularly encouraged dose of clean end result and greens, essentially coming from the carotenoid complicated content material. A steady balanced fruit and veggie diet enables enhance mom’s blood circulation and reduces the possibilities of delivery defects. Each Percent includes a carotenoid complex, one Tre-en-en, and one Salmon Oil Plus. In other words; Pro Power % consists of essential vitamins that promote ideal prenatal improvement.

Zinc (Chelated)

Each discerns would not need their newborns to expand any start defects, which makes zinc an essential mineral in mommy’s weight loss plan. This GNLD mineral product also includes chelated amino acids to make it less complicated to soak up. Not simplest does it prevent start defects in newborns, zinc also improves the general immune health of a baby. Making it a vital thing.

GNLD Formulation IV Plus

Some other counseled nutritional % from the road of GNLD merchandise is Formulation IV Plus. This endorsed product gives all the crucial nutrients, minerals, and folic acid that moms (and everybody else) want. mothers who want that greater burst of power to beat down stress can get it from this diet energy Percent.

Cal-Mag + vitamin D (Chelated)

This is one of the GNLD products this is often recommended for pregnant moms. ladies want sound bones and tooth given that they may be extra susceptible to osteoporosis than men. This critical vitamin and mineral complement supplies the crucial quantities of both calcium and magnesium. The word that enough quantities of magnesium allow with uterine contraction ache at some point of the time when ladies are approximate to present start.

My Husband Chose The Other Woman Over Me, But Now He’s Totally Changed His Mind And Wants Me Back

In a few marriages which have been marred via an affair, there comes a time when the husband has to select among the alternative girl and the wife. The wife is typically hoping that he’ll do the proper component and selected her. This doesn’t always happen even though. It is regularly assumed that after the husband chooses the other girl, the wedding is over. However what takes place while the husband realizes that he has made a mistake and wishes his marriage back? It could be an extremely hard state of affairs with many variables to don’t forget.

To demonstrate, a careworn spouse would possibly say: “I was devastated whilst my husband announced that he could not provide the other female up. He said that he had developed real and lasting feelings for her and that they were going to try to make their dating ultimate. So he loaded up his car, started goodbye to the youngsters at the same time as absolutely everyone turned into sobbing, and went and moved in with her.

I thought that this would be the stop of my marriage and that I tried to pick out up the portions as satisfactory as I ought to. A final couple of months has been a nightmare for my children and myself. However what desire did I’ve? I have just been taking things daily. Nicely, almost three months after he left us, my husband came through the residence and once we put the kids to bed, he told me that he made a grave mistake. He says that being with the other female full time made him recognize that she isn’t always who the idea that she became.

He says their relationship is absolutely over and that he now wishes his marriage lower back. Nicely, what approximately what I need? I might tell him to head bounce in a lake and that It’s too overdue for all of this. However, I see how miserable my children have been without their dad. My mother and father had been divorced and this affected me deeply. I don’t need to try this to my youngsters. But I’m now not positive how our marriage can ever work due to the fact I understand that once the chips were down, he chose a person else. I’m not certain that I will ever recover from this. All I keep considering is that I wasn’t his first choice. So a part of me thinks that saving our marriage is simply going to a waste of time for each folk and it will get my youngsters’ hopes up needlessly. I simply do not know what to do.”

I surely recognize your confusion, ache, and frustration. I trust that most of the people would sense precisely the same manner. This is a difficult scenario. And my inclination in situations like This is to not make any snap or brief selections. You do not decide to save your marriage proper now.

You ought not even to make any most important choices proper now. You may inform your husband which you are willing to spend extra time together within the close to future for the sake of your kids, But you can not make any guarantees past that.

Grief: A Strange Emotion And Why We Need To Embrace It

Grief, is a peculiar emotion.

It took me almost forty-eight hours to to start with check in and then secondly, digest the reality that forty something (please excuse me for not having the precise facts) human beings exceeded away inside the plane crash in Pakistan on December 7th, 2016. While a few people mourned over the lack of a, as soon as-upon-a-time singer Junaid Jamshed

Others grieved over the lack of (the same person) an inspiring evangelist. Then there were others who shed tears over the loss of those other 40 some thing human beings (whose lives are similarly important). I think for me, it become no longer so much about Junaid Jamshed or the relaxation of the shaheed. It was greater to do with what I learned approximately myself and approximately grief.

The night before the plane crash, I used to be reading an autobiography approximately a neurosurgeon (Paul Kalanithi) who changed into recognized with lung most cancers at the age of thirty-six. This younger man had reached the top of his profession whilst he found out he had cancer – level IV. Through his beautiful words, I started to sense his bittersweet feelings, became in awe of his perseverance, and turned into subsequently inspired by his popularity of demise. Paul’s tale is a truth and this very fact of him residing with most cancers, practising medicine, and writing his autobiography in the midst of all the chaos has profound awareness approximately loss of life, decay and what makes human existence meaningful.

I started to sense his bittersweet feelings, became in awe of his perseverance, and turned into subsequently inspired by his popularity of demise. Paul’s tale is a truth and this very fact of him residing with most cancers, practising medicine, and writing his autobiography in the midst of all the chaos has profound awareness approximately loss of life, decay and what makes human existence meaningful.