#i guess cause it says about me being soothing to be around and nurturing nature

[celestial1980slady]

Tagged by @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng, thanks!! I agree with most of this, except me being the "definition of cooking". I am hardcore an ADHD fixation eater and will rotate through the same 5-10 easy meals over the course of a year LOL

But here is the quiz: what does your soul smell like?

Tagging with no pressure as always: @aeide @ainulindaelynn @findusinaweek @blue-mono @mimbotomy @solareias @scottysketches @ca1a-liinaa

[starshipsofstarlord]

hii, i absolutely loved your “yes ma’am” jj one shot, just wanted to say that if you plan on writing more of that i would really really love to read it :) idk if you take requests but if you do feel free to interpret this as one i guess, even tho it’s not very specific 😭 sorry i’m not good at this but anyways i hope you have a very good day !!

baby boy

this can be read as a part two, or seperately from this

jj maybank x reader / masterlist

summary; the boy that you have intimate instructs with shows up at your door, after getting in an altercation with his father. you make him feel better, by proceeding to do more than patch him up / warnings; domestic abuse, jj’s dad is a piece of shit, mummy kink, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, titty sucking

“Let me make you feel good.” JJ was a state, he was bruised black and blue, the injuries having endured the soothing chill of ice to help reduce the pain. Though he still winced as he sat up straighter, staring at you. A frown caused discord to contribute to his features, as he became distracted by the other things he would wish to do to you.

It was a passion of his to be between your legs, delivering supple amounts of pleasure. Since the first time he had done such a deed with you, he was put on quite the tantrum if he wasn’t allowed to. A pout coursed the pursing of his lips, enforcing you to tut at his demeanour.

Though tonight, if you were sure he could handle such matters, you would go easy on him. Usually you took great pride in littering hand prints along his body, more specifically his ass, but for now he had enough bruises creating a discourse in his skin. You wished you had an eraser, so that you could remove all the endurances that he had survived, as well as to make his horrid father disappear entirely from the picture.

JJ deserved vastly better, and you were going to take care of him, as long as he consented of course. He needed to absorb the fact that life was not all pain, even for pogues, there were things to take pleasure in, such as the beauty of the collaboration of human bodies; it was a force of nature, endured through fusion of conspired cruelty.

Everyone knew of the circumstances that the blond managed to survive in, half the time, he spent the time of his slumber beneath his friend John B’s unstructured roof, or like now, under yours, a place that he felt safe, and secured in the setting.

Here, there was no need for him to be fearful, it was a shelter for him to fawn in, to feel free to bare the nasty inflammation of purple digress across his chest, and the split in his brow that would take a couple of weeks to completely heel.

The bruises, swollen like forbidden plums, etched out of his body, staring you in the face, though, it only served as a fatal reminder of his father’s subject to inflict pain. Though his anger and resented ways of parenting were induced by heroine, filtering his veins with a poisonous role as a boy’s father.

There was emotion surfing upon the tide of JJ’s azure eyes, brill by the pain that resonated within the waves, permitting rolls of sorrow to persevere out from his forlorn irises, sending signals of unmistakable endurance towards you, as though he were pleading to be comforted.

Briskly, he nodded his head, without words, saying that he was fine with the matter of you making him feel better; in fact, the desire of being held, and soothed, was rather intent, twisted with the feeling of being carved into a motion of forgetting the rash circumstances that had permitted him to be taken in, and nurtured by your soft hands.

His nose burrowed into your shoulder, nestling into the locks that cascaded down, the shallow breaths that he took granting him to breathe normally for a second. Each time that he shut his eyes, he pictured the scene; it was on the porch, mid morning. He was just about to creep in, and grab any supplies that he had left in his room.

But his father had been waiting for his late arrival, sitting on the chair with disappointment written all over his face. It was terrifying, and what with JJ being the way he was, he did not even attempt to bite back words, instead he allowed his mouth to run freely, resulting in the morbid beating, that had his bones aching.

The treatment was a regular occurrence, but this was cusping his mindset to be scathed, even when he was in your presence, cooped up in his safety net of your physical contact, the abusive actions flickering far behind his eyes, like a silent movie that had him keening out for something more optimistic in referral to his future.

As your had slid down his flushed skin, he gulped, almost moaning out at the tenderness that your hand attributed alongside his beaten flesh. He felt like he had endured a battle, and he was lucky to have gotten out alive. The remnants of the war were scattered about like a platter of marble, there were lines striking his exterior, creating a crack in his appearance, as though he were broken, and he sure as hell felt that way.

But you wouldn’t allow him to think like that; he was not broken. Instead he was tarnished, but there was still chance of having the certification to be repaired. And you would do anything to make JJ, your sweet boy, feel obscenely better. He deserved the world, yet with the brunt of it, he had been handed life on a stick, carrying his burdens around like a ploy.

It was the price all that were born on the cut paid, enforcing the image of the figure eight to appear like a paradise, with strong walls to hide behind, and grave teams of people that would willingly support them, whether they were neighbours, of friends, or coworkers, or anyone. And not to mention, they had the dough to hire lawyers and attorneys to respond with privilege in defence of their actions.

The lower your hand crept down, as though it were preying for something to attain a hardy grip on, the more erect JJ’s cock became. He could feel himself twitch in his boxers, for that was all that he was clothed in, the fragrance of your shampoo seeping through the breaching of his nostrils only aiding the ramifications of his pulsating length, that was growing by the second.

To adjourn his frustrations out, JJ knew that he was not supposed to wisp his fingers through your hair, and thus instead, he bunched up the sheets beside him that were stretched out like a layer of monotone and neutral land, lightly rutting his hips in an upwards motion, hoping, even mindlessly praying, that you would shift your attention to the prodding that was expedited from the inside of his underwear.

“Oh baby boy, it’s okay. I’m here, and I am going to take real good care of you.” You spoke as you noticed his crotch standing to attention, and him whimpering for the same eye drawing scenario. From your condemned statement, a slither of colour paved his face, mostly concentrated on his cheeks.

Your JJ was inherently blushing, the heat crawling over and under his flesh, as though he were embarrassed by how quickly he had gotten aroused. However, there was no need for him to be, and you assured him by pressing firm kisses along his jaw line, nipping lightly on the skin, and tugging with restraint upon it.

Slipping from his lips, a guttural groan fumbled out, purchasing a content smile to break out onto your face. The distraction was plentiful, more so as your hand cupped his bulge, gently stroking the top through the material with the pad of your thumb. It was a circuit of stimulation, erupting a course of pleasure through his veins.

“Don’t wanna- mummy.” He whined, making you cock your head in staged dominance, glancing down at him, as he pleasingly held his gaze upon you, with his jaw tipped up so that he could get the best perspective of your face.

“Don’t wanna what baby?” You lightly tease him, causing his heart to rapidly flutter as you continue to caress him through the red of his boxer shorts. There was a visible patch of precum on the crimson material, soaking through the layer, as he languidly rolled his hips, and to exhibit him further comfort, you leant down, tasting its sweet salted flavour in your tongue as you ran your tongue over the fabric.

Tugging at the rim of his underwear, you watched as his cock flipped out of the confines, bobbing up on the canvas of his stomach, with the layer of precum swiped over his tip, a little stretched down the ways of his length.

“I want to eat you, taste you.” He sniffled lightly, whining in a higher pitch, as he muffled his pleads into your neck. In turn to his nonchalant begging, you were coerced to rub your thighs together, unintentionally warming the slick that had gathered between them, it was hot to see his desperation.

“Mummy, please.” Light tears corrupted his eyes, he was on the edge of combusting from lack of getting what he wanted, and you didn’t have the heart, or lack of to deny him, especially after what had sourly happened to him, in the habit of his own family home.

As you went to peel his boxers all the way down his legs, about to untangle them from around his ankles, JJ urgently began to tug at your clothes. He could see that you had given into his wish, you were going to allow him to flick his hungry to please tongue over your slit, and he was eager to do so, as was quite obvious by the way he screwed the bottom of your shirt up in his hands, rolling the material in his fists.

“Patience baby boy.” From your soothing command, he calmed, and you threaded your hands through his hair, as a reward for his obliged cooling of behaviour. Slowly, as you leant your chest close to him, you remove your blouse, and from the soon proximity that you were in to JJ, he began to suck your tits through your bra.

A tut abandoned your mouth, and lightly with gentle might you pushed him back, to remove the last layer on your upper half, allowing him to return in his commencing of suckling on your nipples, as though he were a newborn, starved and inclined to feed. In the meantime of JJ salivating your nubs, you shifted out of your shorts, leaving you in nothing more than your panties.

His head ran down, his lips laddering down the steady rising slate of your stomach, down to between your thighs, his mouth succulently nipping over the thin layer of your panties, he remained there for a moment as you panted from the sensation, before rolling him over, and turning, so that whilst he feverishly tugged your panties to the side, you leant your head down, eyeing his cock.

Your hand trailed down to his appendage, swiftly tugging on his length, causing high pitched tones to emit from his busy lips, the vibrations muffled against your cunt, trying his utmost to devour your flow of juices. Enclosing your lips around his cock, you steadied your hips around the portrayal of his head, taking bit by bit further down your throat.

To add to his specifics of pleasure, you rolled his balls in the palms of your hand, rotating your fingers around the sack below his length, and thus you pulled you lips off from around him for a moment, to lick a line up the seam of it, before returning to deep throating his cock.

A few more bobs of your head had JJ finishing in your mouth, and for a minute, you rolled his seed around in his mouth as you thrusted yourself hips against his face, chasing your own high as you swallowed his.

“Wanna make mummy cum. Want to taste her sweet, sweet mummy juice.” Gripping onto his waist, you furiously rode his face, releasing a small, supple scream as you finished on his beautiful complexion. He toyed his tongue around your folds, soaking up every drop of your essence with his tongue.

With a heavy breath, you clambered off from him after cumming, a content smile prevailed on your face as you stretched your arm across to the bedside table, grasping up the packet of cleansing wipes, and retracted one from it, using them to wipe your juices off from his face, sweeping up the excess that was glossing his chin.

After disposing of the used wipes, you tucked JJ under the sheets, bringing him to lay against your chest, as you applied a kiss upon his forehead. His blue eyes fluttered closed, as he began to suck on your tits again, aiding him in having calm dreams, and forget about the troubles that had haunted him.

[rowyn-writes]

Little Surprises (Sam Winchester x OFC)

Warnings: Pregnancy, self-doubt, slight angst, fluff.

Pairings: Sam x Ofc, Dean x Ofc (Platonically) Castiel x Ofc (Platonically)

Word count: 2030

"Riley! Now!" Sam yelled as he, Dean, and Castiel fought off a group of demons.

"Exstirpo!" She screamed. There was a bright flash in the room, and every demon in the room was eradicated. The four let out a sigh of relief.

The woman sat down on the floor, drained from using so much of her power. Riley Greene came from an ancient blood-line of witches. When she was younger, her mother taught her how to control her powers and use them for good. She would heal injured birds and make beautiful flowers grow from dead bushes. Riley was a strong believer in natural magic, she never wanted to use sacrificial magic. She would usually tap into the power of her ancestors to get her fuel.

"You boys okay?" She asked, looking around.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good." Sam nodded. "What about you?" Riley gave him a thumbs up.

"Can we get back to the bunker, please? I'm exhausted."

Sam pulled Riley to her feet, stumbling a bit. She had been feeling dizzy lately, and she had no idea why. Dean clapped her on the shoulder, giving her a smile. "Great work the spell, Riles. We couldn't have done it without you."

"Could you ever do anything without me?" She grinned. "You'd all be dead by now if it wasn't for me."

Dean didn't have a comeback for that statement, as it was fairly true. Riley had been hunting with the boys for six years now, ever since she had stumbled on the boys fighting a leviathan in an alleyway. Of course, the brothers were skeptical when they realized what she was. Hunters never really liked witches. Riley herself never particularly liked Hunters either, they were too cocky for her taste. Sam and Dean eventually warmed up to her over time, and even called on her to help them when they needed a witch.

After a while, Riley began to Hunt with them, as she didn't have anything left where she was at. Her mother was killed by a group of demons who were looking for some kind of spell for Crowley. Dean and Castiel became like brothers to Riley, while Sam was different. Whenever they would go out to the bar after a case, men would flirt with the young witch, and this irritated Sam greatly. After years of unrequited longing, the two finally got together.

The four limped their way back to the Impala, Sam and Riley taking the back seat while Castiel rode shotgun. The woman rested her head on Sam's shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut.

---

Riley doesn't remember being carried inside the bunker, but apparently she was, as she woke up in her shared bed with Sam. She gave him a sleepy smile. "Hey."

"Hey," He said, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. "You slept for a while. Are you feeling okay?"

Riley nodded as she yawned. "I'm fine Sam. After doing a big spell my magic needs time to recover, meaning I like to sleep. A lot. And eat, I'm starving."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, what do you want to eat?"

"A veggie burger sounds great. Ooh, add extra pickles."

Sam raised an eyebrow at her. "You hate pickles." Riley shrugged in response. "Alright, I'll be back in a bit. I love you." He said, kissing her on the forehead.

"I love you too." Sam slipped on his shoes before walking out of the room, leaving Riley by herself. She decided to pick up one of her many unread books and started reading. Right now, everything felt calm; Lucifer was back in the cage, Sam and Dean were safe, and Mary was back. However, they were still searching for Kelly Kline.

Riley couldn't really blame her for running. If she was in the same situation as Kelly, she would have no idea how to handle it. She had never given much thought to having children, as her and Sam never really talked about it. She also didn't see how her and Sam could ever raise children with their 'occupation.'

Riley clutched her stomach as it rumbled. She slammed her book shut and ran to the bathroom. She hurled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

"Hey, Riles, have you seen my-" Dean's voice sounded from the doorway. "Riley!" He rushed to the woman, pulling her hair back. He rubbed her back soothingly as she continued to vomit. Once she was finished, Dean gave her a glass of water. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Dean gave her a look, meaning he didn't quite believe her. He pressed his palm to her forehead, searching for signs of a fever. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized that she was cool. "Well, you don't have a fever, so that rules out the flu. Food poisoning?" Dean suggested.

"Probably. After all, you always make us eat crappy fast food." Dean rolled his eyes at the woman.

"You might wanna brush your teeth, cuz your breath reeks." Riley shoved his shoulder, grinning as she stood up. "Anyways, have you seen my magazines anywhere?"

She rolled her eyes. "Get out." Dean nodded, making his way out the door.

Riley climbed back into bed, wrapping herself in blankets. She had no idea why she was still so tired; she had slept for hours.

When Sam got back, he found Riley curled up in one of his flannels, looking very comfortable. He handed her the bag of food as he climbed in bed next to her.

Riley happily ate her veggie burger and french fries, which she didn't ask for but Sam knew she loved them.

Once she was finished, she cuddled into Sam's side. She didn't know why, but she just wanted his attention. He ran his hand though her hair, which put the woman at ease. She eventually fell asleep again, which slightly worried Sam. He knew that she would get tired after preforming a strong spell, but she had been sleeping almost all day.

Riley turned over, trying to find a better sleeping position, which allowed Sam to quietly slip out of the room. He decided to go voice his concerns to his brother. "Hey," Sam said, leaning against the door frame of Dean's room. "Has Riley seemed off to you today?"

"Well, yeah. She was throwing up earlier." Dean shrugged. Seeing Sam's worried look, he added, "It's probably food poisoning." Sam nodded, releasing a breath of air. Even though Dean attempted to sooth Sam's woes, he was still concerned for Riley.

---

"Oh crap." Riley whispered. "This cannot be happening." She looked down at the three positive pregnancy tests. She closed her eyes, breathing in sharply. "Damnit!" She yelled, throwing the sticks at the wall.

Castiel came running into the bathroom, worried that she had hurt herself. "Riley? What's wrong?" The woman crouched down quickly picking up the pregnancy tests.

"Nothing's wrong, Cas, I'm fine." She choked on her tears.

"You're not fine, Riley. You're clearly upset. Why are you crying?" Castiel gently rested his hands on her arms. Her bottom lip wobbled as more tears streamed down her face. The angel frowned as he brought her in for a hug. "What's going on, Riley?"

She didn't answer for a few moments as she continued to sob. "I'm pregnant."

"Is that a bad thing?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know Cas!" Riley sniffed. "Sam and I never talked about it, we-we never even entertained the thought. We're Hunters, Castiel! We can't raise a baby. I mean we just locked Lucifer back up in the cage! What if someone is able to get him out again? I can't let a child be raised in this world where friggin' demons walk the earth pretending to be everyday people! I can't - I can't be a mother!"

"Riley, Riley, hey, I need you to calm down, okay. Just breath." She nodded, drying the tears from her face. "You need to talk to Sam about this, he'll want to know. Everything will be okay."

"W-what if I lose Sam? What if we want different things and we drift apart? I can't lose him, Cas. I love him so much."

"Riley, you're not going to lose him. I'm sure whatever you chose, Sam will back you up 100%, and if he doesn't, then he'll have me to deal with." Riley giggled at the thought of Castiel threatening Sam.

"Thanks, Cas. I really needed someone to talk to. I just don't have anyone to talk to about being a parent. My parents are dead, and none of us really have any clue how to raise a kid. Except for maybe Dean when he was with Ben and Lisa."

"And even then I wasn't Dad of the Year." A voice said from the doorway, causing Riley to jump. Dean. "Sorry, Riles. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

She sighed as she looked at the man. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it. Don't worry, I won't tell Sam." He assured her. "But you do need to tell him. And soon. Because if you keep it from him, it won't make things easier."

Riley nodded. "Where is he now?"

"At the store, stocking up of food." Dean informed her.

Riley was saddened to hear that Castiel had to leave, seeing as he was still searching for Kelly Kline. So that left her and Dean alone in the bunker. She voiced her concerns to the man about being a mother, and if Sam even wanted the baby.

"Riley, you are the most nurturing person I have ever met." Dean told her. "I know that if you and Sam do decide to keep the baby, you will be a great mother."

"I'm just so scared, Dean. We're Hunters, we could never give that up, and I don't want to leave this baby an orphan if something were to happen to us."

Dean gave her a small smile. "There is a friggin village here that will take care of them is something ever happens." Riley laughed, knowing it was true.

"Hey guys!" A voice said from the kitchen. "I'm back!" Riley suddenly tensed up at the sound of Sam's voice.

Dean rested a hand on her shoulder. "Everything's gonna be fine, Riles." Sam gave him a confused look as he appeared in the doorway. "If you upset her, I'll break your jaw." He said, patting his little brother on the back as he exited the room.

Sam's confusion deepened. "Riley, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"I guess that kinda depends on how you react to what I'm about to tell you." She mumbled, picking at her nails.

"You're kind of making me nervous, Riles. What is it?"

"I'm pregnant." Sam grew wide-eyed as he stared at his girlfriend. He stayed silent for a while. "Please say something." She pleaded.

Sam sat down next to Riley and grabbed her hand. "What do you want to do?" He asked. "Because whatever you decide, I will stand by your decision."

"I-I want to keep the baby." She told him.

Sam's smile grew wide as he tackled Riley in a hug. She squealed in surprise. "We're having a baby!" Sam said as he kissed her. "I'm so happy." Riley could see tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh, Sammy." She whispered as she wiped away a tear. "I love you so much."

Sam mumbled and 'I love you,' as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. Riley felt tears on her skin.

"So you guys are keeping the baby then?" Dean asked from the doorway. He always seemed to be lurking around the bunker.

"We are." Riley confirmed.

Dean clapped his hands together, a wide smile in his face. "I'm gonna be an uncle!" He looked over to his little brother. "And you're gonna be a dad. How are you feeling, Sammy?"

"How's he feeling?" Riley asked incredulously. "I'm the one that has to carry the baby around for nine months." The men cracked a smile at that.

"Okay, I'll bite." Sam said. "How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous. Definitely nauseous."

[mommavanillabear]

Voltron Gem AU Drabble

When a spark of life takes form, the results are uniquely beautiful. Whether the beauty is of soft pearls, or even hardened Diamonds, once the spark is alive all that is left to be done is to bury it where it can be nurtured. Where it can grow…

Where it can emerge.

Deep under the planet's’ crust sparks of life were planted in beautiful gem casings, each emerging in time, each following the rules of nature to emerge together, each perfect in the way they were designed to be. It was coded in the very spark themselves on how they were supposed to be, each emerging with information of their ranking in the world around them and their roles that they were to fill without question or hesitation. One does not speak out of turn, one does not require more than what they are given or needed. One must be perfect. To be anything else meant that they are...

Defected.

If a spark of life is planted too deeply, or not deeply enough, a defect can happen. If a spark of life is encased in a faulty gem, a defect could happen.

If a spark of life is more than what it is supposed to be, a defect will happen.

Defects were not kept alive long, either snuffed out of existence the moment they emerge or used for other purposes. No matter the flaw, a defect is a defect, and misery would ensnare its life.

The air was frigid in the temple of ice like stone, the very surface of the temple pure and unbroken, beautiful and radiant with hints of blues and whites, reflecting the light off of them like crystals, dazzling in its simplistic way. The temple of the Blue Diamond court sat high up in the mountain like terrain where soldiers and council members worked and kept their distances from the rest of the other courts, only interacting with the world when absolutely needed. To be a soldier quartz meant fighting and protecting the temple, their lives created only to protect and fight, most heading off to other planets on missions just to use their weapons and fight.

Home world was too quiet for them.

To be a member of the Blue Diamonds court meant grace and beauty, each gem designed to look a certain way and to follow orders, bowing and performing for their diamonds whenever they were called upon, some going as far as to remain by their sides, to climb up the ranks if only to have the chance to be considered amongst the elite.

The very diamond in charge herself was a tall and beautiful creature, her body the color of the sky in morning, her hair a translucent white that reflected the light very much like her diamond. She was beautiful and perfect in her ways, a true diamond through and through, hailing from the first era. All whom gazed upon her respected her, adored and loved her.

Which in turn, meant they had to love him as well.

The defective diamond that sat in the shadows and watched the world under a translucent blue veil whilst his quartz soldier stood close by, stealing quick glances and lingering touches, if only to calm the diamond of his nerves. The defective diamond, though not nearly as tall as the other rulers, was a bit taller than most in the court, standing a good foot taller than as his Topaz, his body thin and tapered. His skin was colored a pale blue, his hair short, white, and choppy despite being told to change it- it made him feel unique despite others thinking it just added to the fact that he was defective. The diamond on his belly was accentuated by the dark blue one piece that clung to him like a second layer,white patched in the front, a thin sheer veil hanging over his eyes. Most days, when not in the court’s presence he covered his diamond and let the veil off, choosing to be called  a name of his own choosing rather than his title.

The topaz that doubled as both his protection and friend was just a bit shorter than the diamon by a mere foot, built tall and sturdy, limbs thick and chest broad, his own skin a butter brownish yellow, his hair dark and tied back by a blue ribbon he wore across his forehead, his uniform that of a normal quartz with a blue diamond emblazoned on his chest. It was with no doubt that the Topaz belonged solely to the defective diamond, their presences always intermingled, their friendship ignored rather than dealt with. After all, no one had time for two gems pushed aside and ignored, only called upon when needed.

To strengthen their friendship the defective diamond gaze his topaz a name.

Together they were Lance and Hunk, two gems whom wanted nothing more than to leave, to travel the galaxy for exploration and wonderment rather than war and conquer.

Where the other gems were content with their roles in life, Lance and Hunk wanted more. To explore and experience rather than simply read or learn through others.

The first chance they got to leave the Court of blue they did, sneaking out during the time the Blue Diamond had left to council with the other proper Diamonds, leaving Lance to his own devices. With silent footsteps befitting of a diamond, followed by muffled heavier steps, the two of them inched from the main halls, avoiding the quartz that stood guard, slipping past to get inside the hangar where the vessels were located, all locked tight and awaiting orders, varying in colors and size, save for the one at the very end. The ship had been designed for Rubies and smaller quartz of the courts, the ship sleek and more compact compared to the fleet ships that rested in the hanger. It was the perfect chance for an escape, with the courts being in session and the Amethysts having made their rounds for the evening, there was no one left to check the large cluttered hanger. Glancing about the empty spaces between the crafts with cautious blue and yellow eyes the two gems began their course of action, blending and shifting against the shadows to keep hidden, aware that one wrong step could land them both poofed, or worse, if they were caught with intent of escaping or possible treason.

“I don’t know about this my diamond, what if we get caught?” The Topaz whispered,stopping just short of reaching out to touch his beloved diamond, eyes dropping to avoid Lance’s concerned face, not wishing to see the look of unease or sadness.”I would be shattered, that would be fine, but you? I don’t want you getting harmed.”

Reaching out the diamond tilted the Topaz’s chin up, the blue hushing softly, soothing the yellow gem before him with a warm smile that hinted at promises. “We are in this together, no matter what. We made a promise a hundred years ago that we would leave, and i am not about to give up our dream. Just a little further and soon we won’t have to worry about who’s a diamond or such technicalities. Just stay with me a little further more.”

Giving a nod the Topaz  continued to fall behind his diamond, the gem on his left hand glowing once they approached the ruby ship-it was true they were not rubies, however with Topaz’s held for their flexibility and resourcefulness, they were granted permission to open up nearly all quartz ships, this one being no different, the door sliding open slowly, yellow hued lights flickering slowly to life. The inside of the ruby ship was small, basic with just enough space for smaller gems to feel comfortable. With a barely withheld sigh Lance forced himself to shift down, his long legs and arms shortening, his blue diamond gem hidden on his belly whilst he slipped his veil back. Turning to the Topaz he smiled, no longer towering over the other but coming up just barely to his chin. Motioning for the topaz to close the door the diamond headed to a small control panel, his eyes widening at the different keys and panels integrated together; being a diamond he had never had to worry about such  trivial tasks, such as learning to maneuver crafts, it had always been either a ruby’s job or a peridot. Gazing at the controls he bit down on his bottom lip, glancing to his Topaz.

“Do you know how to fly this thing, Hunk?” The diamond whispered, eyes widening at hearing a voice from under the first layer of the ship, most likely the inhabitants were down in the control room rather than the ship being vacant as they thought.

“Hey, who’s up there?!”

“No time, button press, now!” The Topaz panicked, slamming his hand down upon the control panels before two figures could ascend the stairs, the sudden speed that the ship took off causing the Topaz and diamond to topple over and slide about, a loud crashing of metal against metal heard until the ship leveled out, the red metal visor slipping down to reveal the windshield, and with it a inky black space that was scattered with blurred stars.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” A male voice snapped, belonging to a ruby that stood with his arms crossed, his black hair falling into his eyes- it took the diamond a moment to realize it was called a ‘mullet’ style, one that many Rubies wore. The Ruby wore a simple one piece suit, a yellow diamond symbol on his chest. The Ruby looked less than pleased. “A topaz and a- what are you?”

“He’s a-”

“I’m a water gem!” The diamond piped up, thankful his gem was hidden by a layer of clothing, his face losing most of its color before he could calm down. “I’m a Lapis Lazuli.”

“Huh, I wasn’t aware Lapis’s and Topaz got along.” A female voice called out, a much smaller gem approaching to stand by the Ruby, a Peridot from the looks of it, the girl wearing a pair of green tinted glasses and her hair cut short and choppy. The Peridot tapped her chin in thought, examining them both closely before glancing to the controls, her eyes widening. “Just where do you think you were going?!”

“Anywhere but HomeWorld.” The diamond scoffed, eyes narrowing. “Hey, what’s a Ruby and a Peridot doing together, thought you gems disliked each other.”

“Well, I suppose like you, we’re trying to leave HomeWorld too.” The Peridot replied, her back turned to them, swiping her fingers quickly, the ship slowing down. “We’re defect’s I guess you could say. Call me Pidge, I’m a peridot from the Nova galaxy.”

“And i’m Keith.” The Ruby’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why do you want to leave homeworld so bad? And Blue Diamond members at that, aren’t you all supposed to be pampered gems?”

It took all of Lance’s will power not to freeze the ruby where he stood- didn’t keith realize all diamonds were dictators? Blue diamond being no better. “You’re wrong, blue diamond is just as controlling as the rest of them. We left in hopes of finding our own court… names? You guys go by names?”

“Got a problem with that?” Keith growled, gauntlet forming.

“Of course not!” Hunk was quick to pipe in, an arm wrapping around Lance. “I’m Hunk, this is Lance, we’re defects too!”

Despite the Ruby’s suspicious gaze the Peridot smiled softly, shaking her head with a laugh. “Well too late to judge now, Home World will find out were missing any time now, and unless you want to explain why we left, it looks like we’re traveling together.”

“You can’t be serious! Pidge, we don’t know anything about them!” Keith snapped, his arms crossing over his chest once more, eyeing the blue gem suspiciously.

“Do you want to be shattered?” Pidge asked simply, annoyance clear in her eyes, her tone holding no room for argument. “No? Didn’t think so. Just keep your gem cool, I’ll take over the controls,  I may not be a ruby but that there isn’t a ship I can’t fly, I simply need to veer us somewhere Home World hasn’t conquered yet, how hard can it be?”

Sitting down with a sigh Keith gazed over at the Topaz and diamond, running a hand through hair. “So, Hunk, Lance, tell me why you decided to  steal my ship.”

Lance could feel a bead of sweat forming,wincing at the way Keith spoke. He hadn’t realized this had been keith’s ship...

AN:

Literally was bored and wanted to write out something for my headcanons of the whole Voltron Gem AU.

[ivemetyouathousandways]

Scrambled eggs, like scrambled feelings

Oksøy Lighthouse - Oksøy Fyr - Norway - Saturday 7:30 am

“The boat is in the opposite direction.” He protested as I dragged him to the side of the lighthouse.

"I know. But that side is ...I mean look at it!”

I expected a snazzy remark along the lines of “Yes, I know, I happen to live here. In fact, I was born here. I even grew up here! Imagine that! Some forty-five odd years around the neighborhood!.” But Sven was above those petty levels and simply followed me. 

The wind had calmed down, even on this coastal island edge, the swashing and lapping of the waves against the rocky shores was the most soothing sensation and for a moment I completely spaced out, vaguely being conscious of Sven’s warm hand holding mine, maybe imagining the slow shift of his body behind mine, the pulling back hug, his hands still on mine. The sky was of a magnificent alleviating blue, the ocean, a marvelous rich, nurturing, perfect deep blue. I wanted to drown in the healing blue, caressed and rocked and carried away by the wind.  

“Why are you really in Norway?”

His voice, a warm whisper in my ear, was like a therapist’ voice, reassuring, inviting to truly open up. 

“I’m trying to mend a stupid ass broken heart.” I whispered in one go, suddenly out of breath, wondering if I had answered his question or if I was confessing to the roaring ocean.

“Heart aches and heartbreaks are never stupid.” His hug tightened and I felt a kiss on the back of my head. “They are hard, the wounds sting bad, but they also teach us. Did you know that the Japanese value broken vases and bowls which they repair with gold? Wounds and scars paint a beautiful unique portrait of the soul.”

I let my head rest against his shoulder and fully savored the moment; his arms around me, his body keeping mine warm, the refreshing wind keeping a reality check on me. I wanted to burst into tears and sob a little, the magnificence of this moment would, sooner or later, end, and I didn’t want to face that eventuality, not even the thought of. I rolled the memory of his kiss on my tongue, the warmth, the passion, the hunger. My answer wasn’t any lesser than his demands. It had been sweet and scary at the same time. I didn’t want to catch feelings, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was already comfortably snug cocooning in this infatuation. 

Thank you, Sven, for this magnificent moment.

I gladly let him operate the small motored  boat on the way back to mainland, my ego had been satisfied on the way here, more or less successfully proving him that I could, in fact, maneuver the damned thing on my own. And I had enjoyed every single of peek I had at his face, both dubious and relieved that I didn’t cause a double drown in freezing cold waters. 

“We just passed a coffee shop.” I mentioned as we did in fact elongated the distance between us and a gorgeous cozy little shop I was excited to try out.

“I know.” He smiled smug back at me.

“I guess you have a favorite spot?”

I should have thought of that. 

“You can say it like that - yes.” He smiled again. 

I wanted to play a game, but I felt childish and silly and very stupid. Back in my college years, whenever I went out with a friend, and mind you, this was downtown Montreal, with cars and traffic lights and a myriad of by-passers in the heat of the noon hour when everyone around downtown was out and about for lunch and leisure, I randomly closed my eyes, as he was holding my hand, and I let him guide me around the streets to wherever he was taking me for lunch at. 

I tripped on something and felt Sven’s arm suddenly slide around my shoulders to catch me.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, worried.

“Playing a game.” I made an effort not to open my eyes. “I close my eyes and see how far I can trust you.”

“You often play this game?”

“Only with whom I deem worthy of a shot.”

He tightened his grip a notch. My heart accelerated. How to kill a flame; be a stupid rogue on not even official date. 

“Watch your step.”

I poked my toe against a small concrete elevation. I couldn’t tell just how long we had walked. I had selfishly enjoyed it. Sounds of the village. Sounds of our steps on the dirt paths or concrete streets. Random chitter-chatter from people passing us by. The chirping or birds. The wind. The distant roar of the ocean fading but ever present, a distant echo reminding us that were on an island still. Cars rolling past us. His silence, beautiful, comforting. 

He put both hands on my shoulders and I could feel his warm breath against my ear once more.

“You can open your eyes now.”

I had a bit of a shock when I recognized his kitchen counter and coffee machine neatly aligned in front of me.

“You impressed with that boat earlier this morning. Safe to assume I can trust you with this piece of machinery.”

Real funny, Sven.

“When we were at the lighthouse, I wanted to say “let’s go home and you can make me coffee” but I think it would have been too soon.”

My heart squeezed delightfully in my chest. Let’s go home - not: let’s go back to my place and i’ll let you maneuver the coffee machine.Oh! Miniature Illy avatar was swooning all over the place.

“So - euhm - you tell me where you store the ingredients or do I roam free in your cabinets?”

“You managed to go around by yourself in a country with a non Latin based writing system, I think you can handle roaming around my cabinets and cupboards.”

Miniature Illy was about floating in sparkly glittery popping hearts. I tried not to smile stupidly like a lost enamored high school girl. 

Sven then casually sat down at the kitchen table and opened the newspaper laying there. Was it last night’s evening paper or even older or this morning’s paper? Did an actual paper boy deliver it before the crack of dawn?

“Can I ...” I started and suddenly felt intimated by my bold inspiration.

“Can you...” He repeated, giving me his full attention.

“Can I make you breakfast?” I spurted out with half a grimace.

He then froze in a a near perfect still shot, morphed into incredulous bewilderment, and exploded in a fit of laughter. 

“Yes!” He said between two fits of laughter “Yes, you may make me breakfast.” He picked up the newspaper “Matter of fact, I’ll even give you carte blanche.” 

I cracked my fingers and took a deep breath. Time to have a goddamned plan! And hopefully not break his coffee machine...

The sound of a quiet morning in a random kitchen in Norway. Someone turning the pages of a printed newspaper. Someone’s soft peaceful breathing. The dripping drop by drop of a coffee machine brewing coffee, cracking eggs, beating them in a bowl. A car passing by in the distance. The roaring ocean nearer - just outside the window - a few steps in the backyard. A tourist lost and found in a small village at the other end of the world. I loved villages at the end of the world. I came from one, I felt home in them. My secret hide out, safe places. Harasztkerék, Targu Mures, Romania. Doolin, County Clare, Ireland. Skålevik, Vest-Agder county, Norway. Someone turning a few pages of a printed newspaper. A loud thump against the front door.

My heart skipped a beat, then decided to race furiously in my chest. I was happily surveying the delicate mix of cheese with scrambled eggs over a hot gas stove. They were near perfect ready. Bread was patiently laying on a plate, ready to welcome a luxurious coat of thick rich scrambled eggs with bits of ham and a heavy load of gooey melted cheese. 

Sven calmly put the paper down and smiled reassuringly, but I noted concern on his face.

“Stay here. It’s okay. Nothing to worry about.”

The weariness of his tone informed me he was no stranger to whatever situation was unfolding outside. But I worried. Human nature - you can’t escape that shit. I tried to muster as much self control as I could to garnish the bread slices with the thick rich mix of scrambled eggs and melted cheese, sprinkled a few more bits of ham on top, instagram dropped a few tomato slices and, at fault of having proper baby pickles - I would have to touch a word about this to him - dropped in a small string of grapes. 

The proper thing would have been to patiently wait for his return, enthuse about the breakfast and play as if nothing had disrupted the otherwise perfect little morning, but I never qualified as a proper lady following the proper course of actions. I was the lovable rogue who did what pleased her; take it or leave it. After having neatly laid the plates on the table and poured coffee in two mugs, I decided that I was dead curious to see what had caused the incidental ruckus outside and found Sven taking photos of a bloody crime scene. 

“Can you fetch me a few Q-tips?” His tone was monotone, matter of fact, instructor giving directives to an apprentice. “Bathroom is on the second floor, first door on your left. Medicine cabinet mirror.” He continued. “And a Ziploc bag from the kitchen on your way out. Takk!*” He smiled briefly, but I could see the lassitude on his face. 

I rushed in the house like horror movie victim running for her sweet life, sped up the stairs two steps by two, busted in the bathroom out of breath and opened the mirrored medical cabinet to find a cute little glass square box of said Q-tips of which i snatched few, cussing myself out midway down that I should have fetched them using a piece of toilet paper - but it was too late now, my finger prints were on them, or partial finger prints at least. I found the box of plastic sandwich bags in the pantry and allowed zero concerns this time, a trip at the local police precinct would be an adventure on it’s own!

Sven was on the phone when I carefully stepped out, trying not to touch the outside of the door. Big bloody red letters spelled out HORE and something in the forefront of my mind told me that the Norwegian spelling was about just a letter missing from it’s English equivalent, but I failed to understand the context and how or why the word was painted on this man’s front door. 

‘Takk, takk. Jeg venter” He hung up the call. 

“The precinct will send an officer over shortly.” He informed me.

“Is that... real blood?”

“Pig's blood. Yes.”

The odd realization of the fact froze me in place. 

“Why...”

“My daughter’s ex boyfriend didn’t take it too well that she moved away; went to live in England with her mother and her new husband.”

Just how much can one morning hold and not break the fragile thread being weave between two people ?

Takk = Thanks!

jeg venter = i’ll be waiting

[frxggi]

[NCT] Doppelganger?

Hello hello hello! It’s me, Froggi, back at it again with the requests I should have gotten to a million years ago. This is like the best thing I’ve written since I made my blog though so hopefully that’ll make up for me being late. 

Genre: idk fluff i guess  Word count: 1,000+  Feedback is always appreciated, thank u and goodnight  Cozy, inviting, and seemingly set in past decades, there’s something indiscernible that draws you to the cafe that lies on the busiest street corner in Chicago. It’s a place you’ve visited countless times; the employees now know you by name and vice versa. On a particularly rainy day, you find yourself padding into the building, the warmth inside soothing your chilled skin. It’s rather empty, which is out of the ordinary given its reputation, but it’s not at all surprising to see the lack of patrons. It is only Tuesday, and with the downpour outside, it’s no wonder you can count the number of guests on one hand. The chime that sounds throughout the cafe alerts one of the waiters, and he bounds out from the kitchen to offer you a greeting. He’s tall, with chocolatey brown eyes and lips that curve up at the corners naturally, perpetuating an enticingly cat like expression. A few strands of soft dark hair fall into his eyes, and he lazily blows them aside with a harsh puff of air before throwing a welcoming smile in your direction. “Hey, sexy,” says the waiter, poking fun at your perhaps overly casual attire. “Do you not have an umbrella? You’re soaked.” You breathe out a sigh, climbing onto one of the large and rustic mahogany barstools that line the counter. “No, I lent mine to a friend.” Is your response. Johnny looks you up and down, pursing his lips in thought, before scurrying away. Out of sight, you can hear the whirring of machines and the clinking of glass and it’s not long before he returns, a drink in hand. It’s a tradition, so to speak, for you to leave your order up to Johnny every time you visit. He’s good at what he does, and he’s always thinking of new combinations of ingredients to put together just the right beverage to suit your mood. On days like this, your drinks are usually served hot, varying between overly sweet flavors with heaps of cream or something more simple, usually a hot tea with only a dash of sugar. Today, you guess the drink is going to be on the sugary side, judging by the mountain of whipped cream and chocolate shavings that dust the top. When you take a sip, though, you’re pleasantly surprised. It’s sweet, but not overbearing and there’s a faint hint of citrus. Your eyes widen, and you throw an excited thumbs up to Johnny as you gulp it down, the liquid heating your throat and warming you down to your toes. “It’s my newest concoction.” Johnny muses, bowing as if he’s in front of a relentlessly cheering audience. “I’m impressed. I’d say this is your best work to date.” You say, “What’s in it?” “That, my friend, is top secret information. I’m afraid I can’t tell you, though you know I hate to turn down a pretty face.” You haul your bag into your lap, pull out your laptop and boot it up. “That’s fine; I’ll just ask Nathan.” You counter, and Johnny’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Try me.” You taunt, taking another sip of the drink. Johnny, one of your 3 roommates, works and makes a living as a waiter and residential pretty face. There’s a handful of people that attribute the cafe’s popularity to Johnny’s devilishly good looks, and you can’t say you blame them; the days Johnny works are usually the cafe’s busiest. Girls practically line up to see him, no matter where he goes. Of course, it’s an unspoken rule that absolutely no one, under any circumstance, is allowed to flirt with him, unless they enjoy being gently but brutally rejected.To most, it’s painfully obvious that he already has eyes for only one girl. ‘Most’ meaning everyone except for you, the girl in question. It’s routine for Johnny to constantly be flirtatiously throwing quips in your general direction, which you reflect back at him with ease. Everything about him, from the way he dresses to the way he acts, screams “ladies man”, so you suppose you’ve sort of embedded that idea into your brain, projecting his flirty behavior onto everyone he interacts with. “Just ask her out already.” Is a phrase that’s commonplace among Johnny and your two other roommates. Among the four of you, it seems that the only one out of the loop is you. Of course, Johnny isn’t one to push. While it kills him to be so close to you without actually being able to call you his, he’ll take what he can get. He’s a man who’s all about subtlety; he’d rather drop hints for decades before he finally grabs you by the shoulders and scream to the heavens that he wants to go out with you. Which, unfortunately for him, is something he probably needs to do. You don’t consider yourself ditzy and clueless by any means; in fact, you’re at the top of your class in the university’s art program, but that’s another story. Point being, you can’t exactly take a hint, no matter how obvious Johnny might make it. Presently, Johnny’s leaning against the bar, asking you, “What brings you here, by the way? The weather outside is total shits; I didn’t expect to see you walking through it.” You’re in the middle of gulping down more of your drink when he continues. “Don’t tell me it’s because you wanted to come see me? I’m flattered, Y/N, I really am.” You click your tongue. “Wow, you’ve got me figured out,” you deadpan, “I actually just came to study, since it’s so loud back at the apartment.” “You couldn’t study at the library?” He asks. “Nope. Power went out, so the school’s got it closed off.” Is your response. Taking one last sip of your drink, you beckon him over, “Come help me.” He shoots you a, “I’m going to get in trouble for slacking off.” though he doesn’t make any move to decline your request. “No, you won’t. Everyone here loves you.” You say as he climbs into the seat beside you. He scoots closer, brazenly leaning against you with his chin propped on your shoulder. You don’t question the action, but rather the sensation is sends shooting down your spine. It’s not uncommon for him to have his hands on you; often times he’d have you in his lap or an arm slung securely around your shoulder, and it was never considered more than a mindless action between friends. After all, that’s the dynamic your friendship is built on. So why, you ask yourself, does it send your heart into overdrive? Of course. It’s because you’ve got a hopeless crush on the boy. It’s an idea you’ve only nurtured a small number of times, afraid that the blossoming adoration you have for the waiter would cause you to do something stupid, like telling him how you feel, should you entertain the notion that yes, you do like Johnny.His eyes are trained on the brightness of your laptop, and he’s silent as you pull up a number of windows, ranging from PDF files to a random playlist you found on Youtube. Johnny does wonders in helping you study. Physics, your weakest and his strongest subject, is the monster that you try to tackle as you sit tucked away into your own little world inside the cafe. Occasionally, he’ll reach a hand up and point to something you might have missed in your equations, and he’ll murmur answers to your questions. It’s when a sudden change in your playlist has you switching over to Youtube that Johnny lifts his head from your shoulder, prompted by a man seemingly in his 40s entering the cafe. The music that plays through your headphones isn’t something you could see yourself listening to, but when paired with the bright colors of the accompanying music video on screen, it serves to almost hypnotize you. Nine men dance with powerful movements on screen, and the song fluidly moves from hook to bridge to chorus, and it’s during the second verse of the song that something catches your eye. One of the boys, dressed in a candy red jacket with gold chains and auburn colored hair, moves to the front of the group, and your jaw drops. That guy looks just like Johnny! When he moves back to your side, you point to the screen in astonishment. “Check this out. That dude looks exactly like you!” Johnny’s eyes widen a slight bit, and he furrows his brows in confusion before his features relax and he cocks a goofy smirk. “Dude, maybe he’s your long lost twin. You know like that movie The Parent Trap!” You joke. A breathless laugh pulls its way from Johnny’s lips, and he slaps a hand to your back, between your shoulder blades. “Pretty sure I’d know if I had a twin, Y/N. That dude in the video? That’s me.” He casually throws out. “Eat it, Johnny. I don’t believe you.” You say, but upon giving it more though you realize that the idea is entirely plausible. Plus, it doesn’t take much convincing on Johnny’s part to have your jaw dropping in disbelief. “Wait, so you’re telling me that you, Johnny, the Johnny that works making just above minimum wage as a barista, the Johnny that does a shitty impersonation of parrots 24/7, are the same Johnny who’s a famous Korean pop star?” Johnny nods, as if it’s something as simple as 1,2,3. You blink a few times, and it only takes you a few moments to fully come to terms with the knowledge. After all, it doesn’t seem far fetched for Johnny to do something so... Extra. “Is that why you have so many girls up your ass?” You question, jokingly. Johnny leans back in his chair. “Maybe. It didn’t work on the girl I want, though, so what’s it really matter?” As he speaks, he fixes you with a gaze that’s perhaps a bit too serious given the lighthearted nature of the situation, but it nonetheless has your throat going dry. “Bummer.” Is all you manage to mumble out. “Yeah. I guess she didn’t really know about it until just now. I bet if she knew I was so famous, she’d already be falling at my feet.” Muses Johnny, casually despite the rapid beating of his heart. “Maybe now that she knows I can use that as leverage to get her to go on a date with me.” “Why don’t you ask her, then?” You counter. At this, Johnny leans forward, face entirely way too close to yours as he searches your expression for anything that could hint at deception, to give away the idea that you’re playing him like a fiddle, serving as a warning for him to back away because he doesn’t want to deal with the embarrassment of being rejected by the one girl he’s head over heels for. Finding nothing, he takes the opportunity to speak, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he asks, tentatively, “Will you go out with me?” Your lips quirk up in a little grin, and you can see the tension leaving Johnny’s frame when you nonchalantly reply with, “I’d love to.” The waiter has a smile stretching from ear to ear throughout the rest of his work day. On Saturday, when he texts you, telling you that he’ll be picking you up once he gets off of work, you find yourself smiling stupidly at your phone. You shoot a quick ok text, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth before typing out another message. “Oh and by the way, you don’t have to be famous to take me on a date.” Followed by another text, “I’d have said yes any day.” 

[rewindva]

CVAP Day 2

We had all the usual speakers from before but a different guest speaker instead of Ms. Pau Castillo. I guess every week we’ll be having someone different sharing their experiences and knowledge with us. Our guest speaker for this day was Ms. Faith Pastrana. She covered about how to grow to love your own voice, how to find it and how to develop it as well. She shared a lot of personal experiences which I won’t divulge so I felt for her. I can only imagine how nerve wracking it is to be so candid and vulnerable talking about yourself. Perhaps I’ll grow comfortably into it someday. She did great and she’s admirable.

Sir Choy talked as well. He employs a Pareto rule of 20-80 with our input being greater as he wants the program to be about the participants. He firmly believes in its effectiveness. He talked about his time as a Director too. He said he could be harsh which sounds daunting and intimidating to me but also exciting since many of the greats in any industry are forged in fire and many of them have great mentors behind them or are very self-determined. There are no hard feelings, there is a line between professional and personal differences. The culture that CVAP is about revolves around sharing, giving, loving and caring and hatred doesn’t have a place in it. I really like the sound of that, it sounds like a really professional but nurturing environment where you all grow and contribute so long as you’re willing to be there and be cooperative. Something cool about the program is that its dynamic, Sir Choy and his team are constantly learning from each batch trying to figure out how to make the program and the next batch better. I’m curious to see what they do for the successive batches since they said mine is vastly different from the first 6 although I don’t have exposure or experience with what they went through. The program even has scholars, not all of us are paid students. I find that really cool since it means there are people giving other people a chance and who believe in their potential.

A stress and trend that was shared is that being able to do lots of voices isn’t the only thing needed or necessary avenue and that there has been an increased need for honest, true, natural and genuine voices too which can be sustained. Some knowledge that was shared by Sir Choy is ‘Walang mali kung gusto mo, pag gusto mo maraming paraan, pag ayaw mo maraming dahilan.’ This translates there’s nothing wrong with wanting something as there are many ways to get it but if you don’t want it then there are many excuses. They really emphasize character and principles of people since many people are skilled or talented but lack values and heart.

Since this is the discovery stage and we’re all at different levels the goal of the program is to discover yourself and to see or find out what you’re good at and what you’re enthusiastic about. One of the most essential things for a potential VA is to find your niche. I’m not so sure what I’d like to pursue but I’d definitely like to try a little bit of everything to get a taste and idea of the industry. One of my goals and dreams is to have a part or parts in a videogame in the drama genre like the Yakuza or Ryu Ga Gotoku games. Some quotes that were shared are that ‘the voice is more than a voice, it is life, it is you, it is your soul.’ It might sound cheesy to some people but I thought it sounded pretty nice.

Sir Choy shared his views on what he believes real talents are and that they are those that can elevate others and help them to become or bring out their best selves. He himself said he wants to be the man behind a 1000 voices rather than the man with 1000 voices. People can be really amazing when they really push and apply themselves, some people just need a little push and support. I was surprised when a lot of the speakers who appear confident, collected and don’t stutter said that they were once shy. Perhaps that can change for me too down the road.

A part of the mantra that I’m paraphrasing is a focus on creating positive change which inspires. What will make people change because of your voice was the narrative.

After that we got taught from a presentation on the elements in creating character voices. The topics covered can also be found in Sir Choy’s book which we received as part of the program called ‘Gusto mo maging voice talent’ which translates so you want to become a voice talent. The elements they shared are pitch, pitch character and tempo. More advanced techniques to consider are rhythm, placement and mouth work and then there’s also proper voice care.

There are so many things detrimental to your voice that I had no idea about. I didn’t even know that lozenges don’t help and just relieve pain to make you think that your throat is being soothed. The #1 enemy to a voice is dehydration so drinking lots of water is highly recommended at room temp. or warm. There are so many things to avoid in terms of food and beverages which include caffeinated drinks, alcoholic beverages, food like sweets, dairy, cold food and drinks and even spicy food which could cause an acid reflux or burn your vocal folds. They also mentioned pollutants like dust and smoke. There are so many things to consider. They did say that you didn’t have to totally cut these things out but not to consume them at least 2 hrs before a recording session or if you have lengthier projects to consider. Another aspect of voice care that they mentioned is voice rest.

We had a batchwide activity in the zoom call where we had to create and demonstrate 3-5 character voices on the spot. I was really nervous about this since I usually like having time to prepare as I’m not really a spontaneous kind of person. I was personally really drawn in and impressed by a lot of my batchmates including a new friend I made and reached out to, Angelo Mella. He does a really great Optimus Prime impression and his baritone is amazing. Sir Fred and Michiko from my group were great as well; they could do really cool and interesting things with their voices. Sir Fred sounds like an announcer or narrator type of speaker whereas Michiko sounds like she’d fit right into an animated show of some kind. There were lots of talented people but I can’t recall them all. I couldn’t think of any characters at the time so I just did some accents I’m a bit familiar with and have had exposure to. I wasn’t all that pleased with my tries but I’m going to make sure I do better going forward and also to participate and interact more.

One thing that I was happy to learn about is that they are happy and encourage people who swear or curse. This was a sigh of relief for me as I normally do those things in casual conversation anyway. I feel it adds color and emphasis to certain things whenever I’m expressing myself.

[johnhardinsawyer]

Call the Midwives

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

8 / 23 / 20

Exodus 1:8-2:10

Psalm 124

“Call the Midwives”

(The Courage to Say ‘No’)

We have a family friend named Debbie, who is like a second mom to my wife and me.  Debbie was a labor and delivery nurse for years, and then a nurse midwife, and now she is a professor of nursing at a university.  I don’t know how many babies Debbie has helped deliver over the years, but when our son was born, we wanted Debbie in the room with us.  And she was.  Now, my wife had never been in labor, before – and I had never been around a woman who was in labor, before.  Maybe I was expecting a crazy scene with a bunch of yelling and screaming, just like on TV, but I was surprised by how calm it all was, for the most part, until the very end.  At one point during labor, my wife had a really strong contraction and Debbie and the attending labor and delivery nurse asked where the pain was.  When she described the pain to these two women they gave each other a knowing look, and Debbie – who was slowly and calmly rocking in a rocking chair – smiled and simply said, “Good.”  The birth was getting closer, but there was something so reassuring in that “Good.”

There is so much that happens when a baby is born.  The mother is in pain, her spouse – her partner – is helplessly putting together the idea that what they taught in the two-hour class on childbirth did not prepare them for what is going on right before their very eyes.  And, with that much pain and emotion and anxiety in the room, you’re going to need a calm and level-headed person who won’t get frazzled when the time comes.  Oh, you’re going to need someone who can spring into action if and when they are needed – OBGYNs and NICU people – but also someone who is content to simply be present and supportive without interfering in what is, essentially, a very natural and inevitable process.  The day our son was born, I was in awe of this new life that came into the world and the woman who gave birth to him.  But I was also in awe of the people who were there who helped it all go well.  People like this often have a knowledge and a quiet strength that is not to be messed with.

In today’s reading from the Book of Exodus, apparently the Pharaoh does not get the memo on this.  The king of Egypt doesn’t know that you aren’t supposed to mess with midwives.  Now, most of the people who read today’s passage tend to skip right ahead to the story of the baby Moses in the basket in the river.  And, it is a great story.  But the conditions that led to Moses being put in that basket and the women who helped him survive being born, in the first place, are what I want us to focus on this morning.  

Last week, we learned about how God used a man named Joseph to save the kingdom of Egypt from utter starvation and how Joseph invited his estranged brothers and their whole family to move to Egypt and settle there to start a new life.  And, that is what they did.  These Israelites – the children of Jacob, Israel – immigrated to Egypt and they did very well there. . .  too well, in the minds of some people.

At the start of today’s passage, a new king comes along who does not know – or perhaps, remember – Joseph and all that he did to help the Egyptian people.  All this new king knows is that Joseph’s descendants and extended family are becoming too numerous, and he becomes afraid.  And his fear is contagious among the Egyptians.  I wish I could say that fear like this – the fear of being outnumbered by a group of people who are different from you – died way back in Bible times, but people in power throughout history have tried to (how shall we say) “manage” racial and ethnic demographics – sometimes in very violent and very oppressive ways.  The historian, Isabel Wilkerson, writes in her new book Caste, that it is projected that the year 2042 will mark the first time in our country’s history when white people will no longer be in the racial majority – something that has caused enough anxiety and fear among some white people that they have lashed out, violently, against non-white people – in a church in Charleston, in a synagogue in Pittsburgh, on public transit in Portland, and in the streets of Charlottesville.[1]  

Way back in the Book of Exodus, the Pharaoh is so scared that these non-Egyptian Israelites are going to take over the country or ally themselves with Egypt’s enemies, that he takes drastic measures – brutally enslaving the Israelite people, “pressing them into hard service in mortar and brick and every kind of field labor.”  (Exodus 1:14)  But that is not all he does. . .

The king summons two Israelite midwives – Shiphrah and Puah – and tells them, “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.”  (1:16)  Could you imagine a leader so frightened of losing power that he would order such a thing?  I wish this were the only time this has happened, but you might remember King Herod doing the same thing in the time of Jesus when rumors of a Messiah being born reached the king’s ears.[2]

Now, I don’t want to speak for Shiphrah and Puah, but I imagine that they – and a whole lot of other people – are horrified by the king’s command.  But what could they do?  What would you do if you were asked – no, ordered – to do something so harsh?

Shiphrah, whose name in the original language means “beauty,” and Puah, whose name suggests a cooing or gurgling “sound that a nurturing woman makes to soothe an infant”[3] might be horrified by the king, but they are midwives – who have seen and done a lot and are strong in ways that the king knows not.  They also have a deep and abiding faith in a way that the king does not.

Right after the king gives them this awful command, the text tells us, “But the midwives feared God. . .”  In the original language, that word for “fear” can also be translated as having a “reverent fear”[4] of God – thinking about God, in all of God’s power and mystery, with the utmost worshipful respect.  And, because the midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, feel this way about God – because they fear God more than they fear the king – they decide to not do what they have been commanded to do.  Instead, they disobey the law of the land and let the boys live.

There is this sometimes-troublesome passage in Paul’s letter to the Romans that says,

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God.  Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed. . .  (Romans 13:1-2)

Now, if you look carefully at the context of what Paul is saying here, he is telling the church in Rome that if they have good conduct and are guided by love it means they won’t stir up trouble with the folks in power.  And, for the most part, I think this is true.  But this verse has been used by those in power, even quite recently in our own country,[5] to justify things that just don’t square with who God is or who God calls us to be – from slavery to family separation at the border.  What if those in power make a law or a command or a pronouncement that does not hold up in light of God’s moral law of loving our neighbor?

Martin Luther King, Jr. wrestled with this in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail, writing:

How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God.  An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. . .  Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust.[6]

In other words, what the Pharaoh is asking these Hebrew midwives, does not square with their own God-given vocation of bringing life into the world and does not square with God’s promise to their ancestors, Abraham and Jacob, to make their descendants as numerous as the sand and the stars in the sky.[7]  So, in a simple, but powerful, act of nonviolent civil disobedience, these two brave women stand before the king, and – when asked why the Hebrew women are still having baby boys – Shiphrah and Puah shrug and say, “Well, the babies are already born when we arrive and it’s too late to do what you asked us to do.  Maybe Hebrew women just have babies faster than Egyptian women.” (Exodus 1:19)[8]  “We’re just midwives, your majesty.  What do we know?” they say, as they give each other a knowing look.

As the saying goes, “Well-behaved women seldom make history.”[9]  And, because – in this instance – Shiphrah and Puah weren’t well-behaved in the eyes of a very selfish and very unjust law, a baby named Moses was able to be born – Moses, who would be used by God to save God’s people, and bring them out of bondage, and lead them through the wilderness to the Promised Land.  But, while today’s story points toward Moses and all that he does for his people, we don’t need to forget these brave midwives who have the courage to say “No,” even if it means risking their lives to usher new life into the world.

You know, there are all kinds of people who might read today’s story and think it is all about a certain divisive – hot-button issue – and, yes, I guess we could talk about that stuff if time and proximity permitted us.  What I think is amazing about this story, though, is the way God is at work through the lives of extraordinary people in extraordinary ways.  God still is, you know. . .  

We trust in a God who takes what is small and might seem insignificant and uses it to bring the powerful to shame – the God of Shiphrah and Puah, and Moses, and others; the God who was born among us as a baby and came to offer us new and abundant life; the God who is giving birth, even now, to a new creation and calling us all – in our own way and with our own gifts – to be midwives of the Holy in our midst.

How is God using you – yes, you – through all of your extraordinary gifts and skills and talents?  How is God using you in this hard season of loneliness and fear to be a beacon of love and light?  How is God using you to usher in God’s kingdom – a kingdom of abundant life and healing and wholeness, justice[10] and peace?  How is God using you to speak truth to power and reveal the inner strength that only divine love can provide?  

May you – and I – be given that strength and guided by that love.

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

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[1] Isabel Wilkerson, Caste:  The Origins of our Discontents. (New York:  Random House, 2020) 6.

[2] See Matthew 2:16-18.

[3] Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses.  New York:  W.W. Norton and Company, Inc., 2004. 309-310.

[4] https://biblehub.com/hebrew/3372.htm.

[5] https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/2018/06/16/jeff-sessions-bible-romans-13-trump-immigration-policy/707749002/.

[6] Martin Luther King, Jr. Letter from a Birmingham Jail, 1963.  https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html.

[7] Genesis 22:17 and 28:14.

[8] Paraphrased, JHS.

[9] Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.  https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2007/09/ulrich-explains-that-well-behaved-women-should-make-history/.

[10] It is interesting how today’s suggested lectionary passage from Exodus lines up with the 100th anniversary of the ratification of the 19th Amendment in our own country – giving women the right to vote.  Maybe it’s just happenstance, but sometimes, the Spirit just moves in that way.

[number06fan]

Cow Cuddling is the New Goat Yoga

I believe it started with goat yoga.  The hipster trend where you attempt to make yoga poses with baby goats crawling all over you.  These spunky adorable animals add the trendy cuteness factor to an otherwise normal yoga class.  Oh yeah, add a couple extra dollar signs to that class as well.  Then came cat yoga.  Something equally as distracting, but based on the number of cat videos found on the internet – a well-received addition to yoga.  From what I have seen most cat yoga classes are designed to help those furry felines get adopted.  I can’t say I find anything negative about that. But now there’s a new one: Cow Cuddling.

In our fast-paced world, each of us find our own little ways to unwind.  Some with a glass of wine and a book to get lost in, some in a movie that takes us to another world, and some with animal yoga.  Others still will find more unconventional ways to unwind.

How about cuddling with a cow.  Yes.  Bovine.  Moo!  My grandpa always said, if there is someone that will buy something there will always be someone that will sell it to them.  That’s right.  For a “small” fee of $300 you can melt your cares away by cuddling a cow.  But why?  Before I get into all the reasons this new barnyard cross-over is screaming E. coli infection, lets talk about why this trend is so popular.

Why Cuddling?

Cuddling, whether with a partner, a friend, a 4-legged fur baby, or a half ton cow provides more health benefits than you might think.  Cuddling is known to provide a calming effect which could lower blood pressure.  Some research has shown that even short periods of hand holding and hugging can lower both diastolic and systolic blood pressure.  Cuddling may be beneficial to any high blood pressure treatment plan.

Cuddling can also relieve stress and anxiety by increasing dopamine and serotonin in the body. Dopamine and serotonin are neurotransmitters that help to regulate the mood.  Dopamine is responsible for regulating the pleasure center in the brain.  Boosting those neurotransmitters give you a feeling of happiness.  Studies show that cuddling can also be therapeutic, even potentially reducing pain.

Why a Cow?

I get how cuddling is beneficial.  But cuddling a cow?  And paying someone for the opportunity to do so?  At $300 for a 90-minute session!  Whew…   Perhaps it is the food safety writer in me, but I see all kinds of issues with this practice.  If this is something that you have been looking into or have it on your bucket list, I will share some tips to help you minimize risk during and after your experience.

What is Involved in Cow Cuddling?

While cow cuddling is pretty much what it sounds like, it can be much more.  A typical “cow cuddling experience” can also include petting and playing with the cows.  According to one source, sessions tend to be monitored and facilitated by a licensed counselor and an equine specialist.

The touted claim is that cow cuddling can be comparable to meditation and a great alternative for those who “just can’t get into meditation”.  Mountain Horse Farm, a wellness retreat offering this service explains it has a lot to do with temperature and heart rate. “Cows have a body temperature that is slightly higher than humans and their heart rate is lower than ours.” They claim “cuddling up with a cow, feeling that lower heart rate and higher body temperature, is very relaxing.”

The farm describes the cows as sensitive creatures.  “They are sensitive, intuitive creatures, which makes them perfect for sensing your emotions and responding to your subtle body language.”  Essentially, they feed off your energy and respond to help you overcome it.  “They will pick up on what’s going on inside and sense if you are happy, sad, feel lost, anxious, or are excited and they will respond to that without judgement, ego, or agenda,” the Mountain Horse Farm website explains.

I guess I don’t think of cows as being especially nurturing.  Though I have heard many stories over time that some pet cows behave much like dogs.  I understand the attributes they are ascribing to these therapy cows seems similar to what has been shown in dogs and cats.  So perhaps they have especially intuitive cows.

If this is something you are finding yourself drawn to, Mountain Horse Farm offers the service in New York City.  A 90-minute session will come to $300, and you can invite a friend to join you.  Before you pull out that credit card, hang around a moment while I explain, “what could go wrong.”

What Could Go Wrong?

There is nothing overtly wrong with hanging out with cows.  Aside from tip toeing through the cow patties.  What could go wrong?  Let’s start with anthrax.  Maybe a little brucellosis, sprinkled with camplybacteriosis and E. coli.  Then throw in Leptospirosis, Listeria, and ringworm for good measure.  How about Tuberculosis?  Doesn’t that sound soothing?

Anthrax

Anthrax naturally occurs around farm animals.  The bacterium Bacillus anthracis can contaminate soil, food, and water around areas where livestock live.  Symptoms can begin anywhere from 1 day to over 2 months from exposure.  If untreated, anthrax may spread throughout the body and cause anywhere from severe illness to death.

Brucellosis

Brucellosis affects reproduction in animals but can cause other issues in humans.  While it is often contracted through birthing tissue or unpasteurized milk of an infected animal (I can’t imagine that being part of the cuddling therapy), it is still something to be aware of.  Symptoms usually develop within 6 to 8 weeks of exposure resulting in flu-like symptoms lasting 2 to 4 weeks.

Campylobacteriosis

Campylobacter is a bacterium shed in the stool of the infected animal.  Animals such as that doting cow can look perfectly fine while harboring harmful bacteria.  Symptoms can begin around 2 to 5 days after exposure and cause diarrhea, cramping, abdominal pain, and fever.  More serious or even life-threatening infections can occur in the very young, the very old, and those with a compromised immune system.

E coli

E coli is naturally found in the intestinal tract of farm animals such as the cow. While some strains can be innocuous, others can cause serious infection. Symptoms include stomach cramps, diarrhea (often bloody), and vomiting. E. coli can also cause a certain kind of kidney failure.  Animals may be infected with no signs of disease.

Leptospirosis

Leptospirosis is a bacterial disease transmitted through urine or other bodily fluids.  Most animals and some people show no symptoms of infection.  People tend to be symptomatic within 2 to 7 days of exposure.  Symptoms often include flu-like symptoms and rash.  Without medical treatment, symptoms may go away but reappear as more severe disease such as meningitis, or kidney and liver failure.

Listeria

Listeria monocytogenes can be contracted from infected animals.  Things to look out for are drooping ears or lips that hang open.  Sometimes animals display disorientation or press themselves into corners.  While some people may have no symptoms at all, other may have headache, stiff neck, confusion, loss of balance, and convulsions to go with their flu-like symptoms.  Listeria is particularly bad for pregnant women as it may result in miscarriage or still birth.

Ringworm

Just hearing the name ringworm makes my skin crawl.  Ringworm is a fungus that can infect the hair, skin, and nails of people and animals.  This is spread through direct contact with an infected spot.  Watch for hairless or scaly spots on your bovine therapist or you might end up with a souvenir you didn’t pay for.  Redness, scaling, cracking of the skin, or a ring-shaped rash might follow infection.  I don’t see that accessory showing up in fashion magazines anytime soon.

Tuberculosis

The bacterium Mycobacterium tuberculosis can infect a variety of animal and humans.  Animals may present weakness, lack of appetite, weight loss, fever, and persistent cough or no symptoms at all.  People can become infected by consuming infected animal products, cuts, or by breathing in the bacteria.  Namaste.  Symptoms may include sores, swollen lymph nodes, difficulty breathing, fever, night sweats, intestinal upset, and/or weight loss.

How to Safely Cuddle with a Cow

If you must cuddle with a cow, there are certain things to look out for and measures to take to be sure that you have a SAFE therapeutic experience.  First, follow all safety requirements the facility makes.  If they say closed toed shoes, skip the cute sandals.

Before you leave, eat, or drink wash your hands.  You will be touching all over the cow and will come in contact with anything the cow came in contact with. Your first line of defense is to wash your hands.

Bring a towel with you.  Personally, I would want a barrier between the clothes I was wearing and my car’s upholstery.  If you happen to track anything onto your clothes (most of the above bacteria can transfer to you and your clothing without looking overtly dirty), you be sure it doesn’t hang around for a while after you visit.

If you can, wash off your shoes and change clothes when you arrive home.  You don’t want to track E. coli or Leptospirosis into your home.  Otherwise you might give yourself the gift that keeps on giving.

Enjoy your cow cuddling, goat yoga, or whatever makes your heart happy.  Safely.

By: Heather Van Tassell, Contributing Writer (Non-Lawyer)

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