#i mean i know we christians can barely complain at all about two (2) whole days out of the year like this

[cats-in-the-clouds]

the pre-lenten experience of shoveling as much food into my mouth as i can stomach in the last hour before midnight bc i always miraculously somehow forget to eat single a real meal on fat tuesday and i know that if i enter ash wednesday already starving i will not make it through the day. it’s like my brain wants me to fast a day early somehow and i have to be like NO we can’t make that mistake

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

༺☆༻

Chapter Eleven

Written in Plain Sight

A/N:

Tysm for your patience with this one. May is a difficult month for me for personal reasons. I’m still writing and I’m so excited for you guys see where this heads. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Dear Slash,

Im sorry I didn't write you sooner. Things have been a little crazy since I got home. Well, not home actually. My parents have turned me in to this special all girls Christian school that specializes in "troubled young women". Apparently they can legally do that even though I've just turned 18! I never agreed to it, they just left me here. In the middle of nowhere- with these weird nuns. They haven't told me how often mail is sent out so I'm not sure how often I'll write, but I promise I will.

I'm sorry how I left things. I didn't know they were coming to take me home. I tried to say goodbye but they gave me no chance. Please forgive me. This summer was the best time of my whole life. Because I met you.

I know letters are a little prehistoric these days, but I've no access to a phone here. Again, I promise to write often. I'll call you as soon as I'm out.

Love, Foxey.

-

Dear Slash,

I'm not sure if you are receiving my letters. If you are and just don't want to speak to me, I understand that. I know mail can take a while... anyways. I figured writing to you helps me pass the time here. This place is awful. It's been 2 weeks of hell. I was forced to detox from everything. It's been so hard. I hardly sleep at night. But when I do, I am so happy because I dream of you. I also daydream a lot. It helps me get through the day. The days are long and boring. There's not really a curriculum here. Even though they call it a school. The nuns are mean. They took away all my clothing and I have to wear a white dress everyday and every night. It's cold and uncomfortable. Each day consists of the same thing. They wake you up at 6 am every fucking morning. It's barely light out. Then you have to clean your room. If you can only eat breakfast if you pass morning room inspection. I've failed 5 times so far...

Anyways. Sorry. I don't mean to complain to you. I don't have anything exciting to write about. I hope you have having very exciting experiences in LA still. Please write me when you can... I want to know how you are!

Love, Foxey

-

Slash,

Today was horrible. Just horrible. I'm sorry to write you only my miseries, but it feels like that's all I have left lately. Turns out, if you don't comply with every single whim and precision- even making the wrong face, or the tone of your voice, the nuns will be violent with you. They carry rulers, books and at times, even their bare hands- are weapons. I can't exactly remember what I did first to step out of line, all I remember was sister Agatha (she's a total bitch) slapping me so hard across the face, the stinging lasted for hours. I cried a little but only in private. I don't think I want to let them see me cry. I don't want them to know they have that power!

I still wait for your reply. I hope you are well.

Love, Foxey.

-

Hi There,

It's been a while. Sorry for that. I don't have much different to say to you. Or much at all. I think I get your message from your silence. If it all meant nothing to you after all, then so be it. I think maybe I belong here anyways. It's best for everyone. I want to let you know it really hurts me to accept that you are done with me. With us. Just like that. But I respect your decision- even if it's shitty. Maybe that's all rockstars are is shitty. So there. You're shitty and I wish we never met. I hope you're happy.

Best of luck with everything. I love you.

Y/N.

-

And just like that. It was over. The silence from Slash over the past two months was only an added pain to the hell you already endured. For your own sanity, hope was crushing you and you had to give it up. Your parents had called once, but the nuns ensured you weren’t telling them the truth of what it was like there. As quickly as it all unraveled, you sank into your new reality. Pushing out thoughts of escape as the former attempts were futile and had only ended in harsher and harsher punishment .

It was colder now into early November. Other girls had come and gone periodically, none staying long enough for it to be worth harboring any sort of relationship. You spent your days in the day room, a dim, sulky living room type space in the center of the building. Empty tables with broken chess pieces and puzzles with missing pieces scattered. You took throne to an old green chair by the large window.

One person you had managed to form any sort of connection with was the oldest nun in the practice, Sister Graham. She seemed worn down and tired of it all, due to her age, and lack of violence and stern, she’d been demoted down to a secretarial duty. She’d find reasons to come and talk to you when she could. Small but meaningful conversations. The two of you formed a secret bond of hatred for this place. A mutual understanding that this was all that was left for both of you. She’d share bits of her life before she became a nun. She had been sent away at the age of 16 after running away from an arranged marriage to a man 20 years her senior at the time. You felt sad for her, sorry for her, confused as to why she remained here. You told her about your past, how you ended up there. You even opened up to her about Slash and the magical summer you had. She seemed to appreciate the glimmer that became of you when you spoke of it all. Like she understood what it meant to feel young and in love. What it felt like to feel misunderstood and suffocated by the normalcy of the world. She made you feel special amidst it all. And then, one day, she was gone. You waited all week for her to show.

You prodded at nuns all morning as to where she was, “did she die?” “Did she retire?” “Is she sick?” You skipped around. Each question was met with harsh and rude snaps of silence and threatening looks. The confusion and hurt flatlined you again. Back to nothingness. You shifted in bed, staring at the ceiling, images of Slash, summer, everything, bleeding through your mind like a movie. The anger of his silence, the hurt, the betrayal, all of it stung within you so badly. Allowing it to get to you, you angrily chuck your pillow to the other side of the room with a frustrated sob. Feathers bust out of the pillow, completely ruining it. You came to your senses quickly with regret and knelt over the pillow to pick up the discarded feathers. You hadn’t changed your pillow case this week, and now you’ve broken the pillow altogether. Great. It was sure you’d get punished for this in the morning. Your hand brushes against a piece of paper as you sift through the feathers. That’s odd- where did this come from? You pick it up and it appears to be a small folded note. You take a precautious look at your door before unfolding it.

“R. 308

Nov. 21. 8pm to west wing parking lot.”

What the hell? You don’t recall writing this down. This was clearly stuffed in your pillow case. When? Why? What does it mean? Did someone put this here? Your heart beat with confusion, apprehensive to feel any sort of excitement at fear of being disappointed again. It was late, and there was seldom to do with this new information except to sleep on it. So you did.

Surely enough, as you had predicted, the nuns took notice of your destroyed pillow and sentenced you to janitorial duties for the entire day. You scrubbed away at the hallway at the end of the wing. Dragging your bucket of dirty water like a gross companion. You grumbled to yourself as you mopped. Suddenly a sister enters the hallway from out of a room and almost slips on the fresh wet floor. She gives a stabbing glare.

“Well hurry it up and get it finished so you’re not such a hazard girl.” She snarks as she walks away. You want to bark back but you know better. The room she had left was left cracked. You stared at the door with curiosity before noticing the room number plaque before you .

“Room 308”.

Wait a minute. R308? Like the note? You take yet another precautious glance behind you to the empty hall to ensure no one would see you now sneak yourself into the room.

Surely there’s something of importance in here? It appeared to be some sort of administrative office. Piles of papers decorated the entire room. You strolled around carefully eying everything. This is a mail room, this is all mail? This is all patient mail, no? It is. How interesting? Why’s there so much in here? Your eyes scan and roll over a large stack prominently sticking out of a box on the desk. You recognize the stationary and realize it to be some of your own letters to slash. What the hell? You start shuffling through the box in a greater panic and confusion. These were all supposed to be sent out, sent to Slash! Were none of them ever mailed?! Your heart dropped to your stomach and your chest tightened.

You wanted to stay longer, to further examine and investigate this, but the reality was clear. No letters written had been sent to anyone. They lied. You hurriedly skimmed through the pile to see if any had come in from Slash but you only saw the ones you wrote. All of them opened too. They’ve just been reading them and keeping them….

Before you could sulk, you quietly exited the room to ensure no one saw you sneaking in there. Clearly you were not supposed to know this. Rage, Hurt, Confusion, coiled inside you once more. All this time? Out of all the emotions rushing through you at that moment, the scariest one was now hope. Hope again filtered into you. Maybe Slash had never ignored you. Maybe he just didn’t know where to write!

After returning to your room that evening, you re read the obscure note once more.

“Nov 21”

That’s tomorrow. Nov 21st is tomorrow. Someone wants me to go to the west parking lot at 8pm tomorrow. But who? And why?

[footballxwrites]

Ridiculously in love with your writing so giving another one😂

So read reports that Christian pulisic maybe going back to the bundesliga to play for Bayern so maybe you could write one on that where he feels guilty for not having been able to probably make it work in Chelsea. He’s been with his fiance since they were like 12 and she’s a British citizen and an arsenal fan so she was definitely the happiest when they moved to london as because she runs her own company and their main office is in London. Christian feels like a crap fiancé also because now she’ll have to travel up and down every other week like she did when they were in Dortmund, and she’s done and sacrificed so much for him and he couldn’t even make it work so she can be in her hometown for once and also be with her family, plus they’re looking to start a family so this travelling business and not having grandparents around the corner isn’t ideal either. With all this plus not starting games plus family stuff weighing him down, he starts to be distant from her and she obviously notices. She gives him a bit of space at the beginning but then quickly realises that they should talk about it like they always have in their relationship. So she brings it up and he lets out everything and she’s like “ don’t be stupid, I want the best for your career and if that’s in freaking Finland well go there, you’ve had a tough year and not the ideal start to your time at Chelsea ans that’s okay. Everyone has set backs but we need to make a comeback so we’re gonna do what’s best for you and then go from there. Europe is small and London to Munich or wherever it is isn’t too bad at all, plus you know I genuinely like travelling for work. And when the kids come we’ll just figure out a schedule that puts them first and have you seen our parents, they’re gonna be coming and seeing us all the time. It’s fine, we’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be just fine” and then Christian is just crying by then because how did he get so lucky blah blah blah... can’t wait for this one xxxxxx

Long Distance Love ♡

𝖧𝖺𝗁𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎! 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 (𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗅)...𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾 😅𝗑

January 10 2021

Suddenly, you felt him stir slightly, readjusting his arms that were snaked around your body, which made your head shoot up to gaze at him, seeing his eyes fluttering open and a lazy smile creep upon his lips as he leaned into a kiss. His arms were quick to pull your waist against his so your head was flat on his chest, listening to the peaceful sound of his heartbeat, instantly making you feel at home. You little moment was cut short when his phone went off and he rushed out the room with a groan, leaving you annoyed and your heart pounding, having a feeling you knew exactly what the phone call was about, hoping he come back and give you the answer you wanted to hear...

“It’s gone through...the transfer” he sorrily spoke, making your breath hitch in your throat, although knowing it was a high possibility of the move actually happening, a part of you was certain he’d be staying here in central London for at least another year. “Guess you’d better get packing then” you softly laughed, feeling disheartened to say the least, the words of “it’s happening” not being the ones you wanted to fall from his lips, “look can we talk about this properly-“ he began, reaching for your hand as you swiftly dodged his grip and made your way to the bathroom, ready for a complete meltdown about everything, “No I have to get ready for work...while I still have my own business” you trailed off, letting the door close behind you with a slam...

————————————————

January 2 2019

"The real question is, how did I get so lucky?" you giggled before he gently pushed the mug of coffee into your hands while leaning in to plant a small kiss on your forehead. Instantly, that warm feeling flew through your body just from the smallest, loving touch he gave you, it never getting old. “Good morning, beautiful." he mumbled against your lips, before wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his head on top of yours, “and a very good morning to you handsome” you smiled, feeling the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while, lifting your gaze to him, love dancing in your eyes as you leaned in to clasp your mouths together.

"Kissing you never gets old," you mutter softly as you both pull away, Christian flashing you a cheeky grin before spotting his luggage packed and ready for the off beside the front door of your new complex, a sigh falling from his lips, “can’t believe I arrived here a week ago and I’m already flying back to Germany” he frowned, pulling a pout. “It’s only six months and it’ll be over before you know it, I’m not going to lie I will miss living over there, especially the weather” you giggled, messing up his perfectly gelled hair to which you got no thanks for, “hands off, this took ages to do” he said, pretending to be serious and grabbing your hand as if to say ‘go on do it again I dare you’. “I’m gonna miss you, the apartment’s gonna seem empty without you here...and it means I have to build all the flat pack furniture from IKEA myself” you huffed, pointing at the hundreds of cardboard boxes filling the spacious room as he laughed, culling your face and running a finger along your cheek, “you’ll be fine, we’ll FaceTime every night and whenever we have a minute spare because you’re gonna be busy as hell now...my super business woman” he winked as you shook your head, still not quite believing you actually own a company, like a whole ass company belonged to you and it was mad to just even picture it.

“Ah shut up, you’re making me blushing Mr Pullisic, now go before you miss that flight of yours” you grinned, going in for one last peck while shoving him out the door with a struggle, feeling like his clingy self wasn’t ever gonna leave, “I love you, see you in half a year” he happily said, grabbing his many cases and walking out, letting the door gently fall closed...

——————————————————

July 1 2019

The classic iPhone ping went off as an incoming text message lit up your phone screen, instantly opening the pic attachment of him saying ‘en route’ which meant he was on his way and by god you couldn’t wait to just see him in person after all this time. He barely got through the front door before you took a leap, linking your legs around his torso as his hands secured under your thighs to carry your weight. Squeezing him tight, you rested your head in the crook of his neck, enjoying his presence as a laugh escaped his lips, “missed me just a bit?” he stupidly asked, not even bothering to let you answer before smashing his lips on yours for the first time what felt like in forever.

Gently tapping your legs, he slowly placed you feet on the ground and then cupped your face, pulling you in for another long, loving kiss, “so how’s everything been then, and by the way you’ve done a good job decorating this place” he nodded, eyes gazing at all the modern interior, “funny you asked, I managed to open two more branches this week, one in Gateshead up north and the other in Manchester!” you exclaimed letting out a small squeal, not able to control your excitement any longer as his eyes went wide with joy. “I didn’t think you could make me any prouder but I guess I was wrong eh” he gushed, heading over to sort out his cases, “I’m saying the same about you” you laughed as he pulled out a couple man of the match awards along with a jersey signed by all the teammates. “It felt strange to say goodbye to them after all these years...but it’s time for a fresh start, here in London with Chelsea Fc and with you” he whispered, excited for the new chapter in your lives to finally begin.

——————————————————

The next year could only be described as perfect for the both of you, his career taking off and loving every moment at the club, getting along with everyone in the dressing room and then loving the fans and atmosphere within the stadium, and knowing you were in the stands somewhere cheering on your ‘captain America’ made it all the more special. As for you, your company was doing beyond amazing, going from National to world wide, owning buildings in Dubai, Spain and you’ll never guess where, Germany. Your main branch was of course London, where the company was founded and to which was the office you managed and were based at, meaning you rarely visited the abroad ones but you weren’t complaining, with you being a London gal to be in your home city with your own bloody business was unimaginable, not to mention you were only a 20 mins drive from your family.

Oh yeah and he popped the question about four months into the move on your eight year anniversary which you of course said yes to, already having planned out your dream wedding, the pair of you agreeing to have it here rather than America with work and travel and all that malarkey.

For the first time in ages, it all seemed to be coming together for yous...

———————————————————

January 10 2021

8 hours later and the two of you hadn’t spoken all day, with him going off to what you assumed was his last training session and proceeding to ignore you and your many questions, you decided to go to work too, trying to get this whole moving countries once again after only one fucking year back home thing off your mind.

“Right that’s it, you’re going to talk to me Christian because you must think I’m a mind reader or something and I can just tell what’s going in in that brain of yours” you said, stumbling through the door and throwing your keys in the side before throwing yourself on the sofa beside your sad looking boyfriend. “I’m sorry” was all he could say, looking down at the ground leaving you with a confused frown on your face, “enough with the apologies, I just want to know what this means, for us” you sighed, placing a hand on his cheek and giving it a small pinch, hoping it’d put a smile on his lips.

“Well I’m definitely leaving Chelsea, guess not everything works out...but it means I’m back off to Germany” he said as you slowly nodded, “you have to do what’s best for your career, ok?” you smiled, running a hand through his hair as he was quick to shake his head, “no I can’t. I don’t wanna leave you, not again. And anyways we’re supposed to be trying for a baby and that’s going to be a challenge if we’re in different countries don’t you think?” he’s spoke with a slight laughter. “I’m not arguing with you Pullisic, go and sign that contract and get yourself away to Germany to revive your job. I’m not saying I’m going to drop everything and move again because I have my work and life, but I can easily fly out and visit, you’re forgetting I have an office over there. As for kids, we’ll get to that part when it comes around...so just take one step at a time and get on the phone to your agent to tell him you’re taking the transfer” you blurted out with a soft smile, knowing exactly what you were saying and that this was just another step in your life, at the end of the day, life isn’t life without it’s challenges along the way...❤️

———————————————

If you got this far reading it, I hope you enjoyed it! x

@kingkepa @champagne-coys @footballcloud @footballmagical @alexajanecollins @masonmounts @hoely-pavard @hazardybala @jamesmaddiscnx

[whats-the-story-tc]

9th of October, 2020

"The One with the Cards Laid Bare"

[INCREDIBLY LONG, SORRY FOR CLOGGING THE TAG]

There were very tense energies in our classroom before V's double class. We already knew she'd cried today, we knew where she'd be working from other classes, so we all knew what would come, and it still was bad. One of the boys said he heard that she hopes we're not all angry at her and that we won't hate her for her decision. There was not an inch of anger or hatred in any of us, just heartbreak. We knew how much we'd cry seeing her leave. We were afraid of this goodbye. But it had to come eventually. The last class she'll ever teach. The last two lessons she'll ever have.

She was late. Only a couple minutes, but seeing she's always on time, or even a bit early, it was worrying. I walked outside to find her, and when I did, I saw her, coming up the stairs with two boys from the class, fresh back from lunch. Immediately as she saw me, she raised her index finger and said: "No." I didn't really understand it, until she continued: "I'm not gonna cry. I'm trying to go at least two minutes without crying." My heart was in shambles, and nothing even happened yet.

She started by telling us an e-mail is not how she wanted us to find out. She wanted to tell us herself, but not until today, probably not until the end of class, even though she's known for quite a long time she wanted to leave. She didn't tell us, because she wanted these last days not to be chaotic, so we could still focus and do our best in class. There were signs, though. And I should have known. There's one in basically every post I wrote this year. Funny thing is, when I told you about how she was with the girl from the other class and I thought something was up, it was only my gut feeling. She hadn't told them yet. Only in the last 20 minutes of that double class.

She also told us who will be replacing her, just to get the professional part quickly over with. V said she expects us to treat them fairly, even if she won't be here to check on us. We keep this promise. Most of the time, it works.

Being a teacher doesn't pay well, and here, in our country, the profession itself is not respected the way it should be. 10 years of experience in the field means nothing, she said. The new education system is horrible, unbearable, and she's had enough of feeling like she's in a toxic relationship. Not with us, with teaching. She said she used to feel very anxious when she got here, and by now I know what she hadn't told us in that moment, that she still doesn't feel good thinking about school. She has to leave for her own sake, even though she feels incredibly guilty about it. Even though she'll miss us.

She said, through tears, constantly stopping to take a deep breath and gather her thoughts, that teaching is something she was planning to do her whole life long, but she has to step back now. Even though she has "the seniors, standing before their graduation exams, [us], whom [she's] bonded with", she can't do it anymore. And when one of the girls asked her if she really did love us, she said: "Would I have stayed so long if I didn't?"

We spent long minutes in class discussing the education system, and when I said I didn't know about something that supposedly came from the weaker one of the theatre universities here at home, V was surprised that I hadn't read it. She called me a nickname again, a new one. I've been babygirl and I've been fairy bug before, but not once have I been the name that translates to "my life". Spanish speakers, it's like when you guys say mi vida to someone you love. That's what V called me. I don't remember her ever having called someone that in class.

Between classes, Bandana Friend, who was sick, joined us via video call to speak to V, as she really wanted to say goodbye, at least like this. I stood right beside V as they spoke, out of the camera's sight, unlike my classmates, constantly goofing off in the background, making both V and my friend laugh a little. As I stood there, I couldn't help but marvel at V's eyes from up close, in the light. I don't think I've ever seen a more enchanting eye colour before, and I find nearly every pair of eyes I see pretty. Seriously, I wasn't overexaggerating in any of my posts. If you once catch her eye, you won't know when to stop looking.

After a while, though, my classmates got a bit much, still during the call, and there I was, gathering bravery and doing something I've never done before. I stroked V's arm for a second or two, like I've wanted to so many times before, to show sympathy. She didn't even look at me, didn't even flinch, she probably knew who was touching her. And, seeing how unresponsive, how calm she was about it, I couldn't help but think: "Is this something I could've done this whole time?"

Before the second class with her started, Debate Friend called her a derivative of her first name (though she made sure to say Miss with it), and V just told her not to be rude. Hours pass, and V lets her (and us all, indirectly) call her by her first name, which is something we're still adapting to, but I'm rushing too far ahead, let's slow down a little.

The second class went well, she wasn't crying anymore, on the contrary. We laughed a lot, she told us her honest opinion on a lot of us, who asked her what she thinks of them, and gave advice if needed. I didn't ask. I figured that if she wants to tell me something, she will. Then a very crazy chain of events happened.

She looked like she was gonna tear up again, and I couldn't sit and watch anymore. I stood up and walked right in front of her, not daring to ask for a hug, but hoping she'll get the message with arm gestures. It took her a bit, but when she did, she couldn't help but yell something that I would translate to: "[Specs] is jumping me!". The word she used here is something usually used in a romantic or flirty context. (Translation was never my forte.) You can probably imagine the laughter, and also my face as I realise that not even on her last day could she go without sassing me at least once.

But then. Oh, then. The next thing I hear as I turn towards her is as she says: "C'mere, Little Me." and before I know it, I find myself sobbing in her arms again, and thinking about how this happened. She seemed taken aback by or uncomfortable with the comparison the last time we spoke about it in March, before the quarantine. When did she accept it, or how? Now as I re-read that post, as I'm writing this one... could the turning point have been me calling her my sister? I had so many questions, but all I could do was cry.

Class was nearing the end when I finally managed to stop sobbing and ask her one thing I've been meaning to for ages: what her tattoos mean. "How much should I go into detail?" she asked with sparkling eyes. She wasn't even surprised I knew about the two on her shoulder blades — but I was, when she motioned with her fingers she actually had three. Before telling me about them, she jokingly said something along the lines of "I'm not gonna strip for you" (as all 3 are covered by clothes), and me being me, I immediately threw my hands up, face probably red, and said: "Nononononono, obviously [not]!"

Funny thing is, the two on her shoulder blades are actually quotes from the last book she had us read, the last thing we discussed with her in class on Wednesday. So this is what she meant when she said she had personal connections to it! After she told me which parts they're from, she jokingly added "Very English teacher [of me]...", to which I just laughed and responded "Yeah, very."

By the time I'm writing this, I already had to listen to the headmaster, one of V's replacements, as he bragged about knowing of these two tattoos. Heh. That's cute. It's still 2-1 to me, sir. Not only have I seen them partially before, which you said you haven't, but I also know about the one she most definitely never told you about. And the one I'm most definitely not gonna tell you guys about. Sorry. Some things just have to stay between V and I.

"Also, no one noticed that this is the first time since I came here that I've worn a band T-shirt!" she complains to me jokingly. "Well, I was used to your graphic shirts, so I didn't think much of it," I reply. She's very enthusiastic in telling me what exactly is on it, without me even asking. This woman put on a shirt that essentially disses Christianity — in a religious school. Unbelievable. I love her.

Somewhere around that time, I asked her to let me walk with her to the teacher's lounge, Bookworm Friend convinced her to take a photo with our squad (which had basically everyone I know, my own father included, telling me we look identical), I stroked her arm again (I no longer remember what the reason was, but she still must've felt it pretty natural, seeing she didn't react), and like 3/4 of the class came to hug V goodbye. Meanwhile, another girl I've been classmates with for ages, but never particularly liked, hugged me to try and comfort me. It caught me off-guard, but I've never felt more like our class is a community.

People from other classes came to talk as she walked outside, but I waited until she was alone, and most probably so was she. She promised, likely knowing that I wanted to talk privately, so we didn't leave until it was just the two of us left.

"Come, Little Me," she said again, as we got going. She liked this phrase so much that she repeated it in English. "Mini Me." Then I found out why the English. Turns out, her native English speaker boyfriend, who she name-dropped like it's second nature, as if she's telling a story to a friend (she's so whipped for him, it's adorable), knows all about this comparison, and had a good laugh at it. He knows who I am. I was important enough to mention at home to her boyfriend, something I always wondered about but never dared to ask her. Tears.

No, really, actual tears. I've told you before, I don't support confessing love to your teachers while you're still their student (I'd wait a year after graduation if I were you), and especially if you're underage, and I myself wouldn't do it either. And I didn't. My confession was a little different. My voice breaking from tears, I told her the one thing I wanted her to know most. "This is not how I wanted to tell you, but I've never got more (in life) from anyone..." The answer? The old classic. "Come on."

"[Specs], you really need to get more self-confidence" she tells me, as that's about the only thing I still need to get me where I want to be. "I have to," I reply. And I do. I'm trying. Funny thing, self-confidence. It comes up in both the first and the last conversation we have as student and teacher.

We get up, stand at the top of the stairs. Soon it's time to go. The memories get a bit hazy here, but I'll try my best.

She tells me she expected me to react this way, and was afraid of it, seeing what happened in January. I immediately corrected her. In January, I cried because seeing my classmates hurting and my teachers clueless and lost hurt me, whereas this time, it's personal. She doesn't say anything. I think she understands. I ask her if she'll be happy in this new situation, and she says she hopes so. Only time will tell.

"I probably won't be available at a moment's notice all the time, but if you ever need me, you'll find me," she reassures me.

My English (language) teacher walks outside in that moment, and starts talking to V like I'm not even there. V and I are both a bit uncomfortable with the interruption, but the teacher seems pretty fine with it. Fucking hell, woman, insensitivity much?

Anyway. When she's gone is probably the moment we realise this is it. That this is where it's over.

She reaches out, both verbally and physically, and there we are, hugging again, both of us stroking the other's back in an effort to try and comfort the other. "You always have your friends," she tells me. "Get a good rest," she adds somewhere during that moment. Then we pull away.

I don't reach out, I don't dare to. As soon as I step out of her arms, it's her, who takes a hold of my hand. Not clinging, just a gentle, meaningful hold. I have no idea what she was saying, as I focused on the fact that we were only bloody holding hands in plain sight — and another thing.

V's eyes were red, and full of tears.

She hadn't shed a single tear for the past 20 minutes or so. Yet there she stands before me, physically still holding on to me, and crying. That was all me. And all of a sudden, I understand everything. I no longer have the guts to deny that she loved me all this time.

That's where it ends. No grandiose confessions, nothing loud, nothing overly passionate. Just a scene of two women standing hand-in-hand, showing their true colours and not holding anything back for the first time since they've met, before Miss V, the teacher, forever disappears behind a glass door.

These two women, mentioned above, are the ones who laid the foundation for two friends, two equals to meet anew. They are just getting to know each other all over again as we speak, setting the tone for something to start that could possibly last a long time. And I don't think there's anything that could feel better than that.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[wesleyhill]

Hagar the Theologian

A homily on Genesis 21:8-21, preached at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, Pittsburgh, on the Third Sunday after Pentecost 2020

I would speak to you in the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Our Old Testament reading for this morning is disturbingly resonant with contemporary headlines, isn’t it? An African woman is divorced by her wealthy and powerful husband and is left to try to keep her child alive by herself.

When we meet her in today’s lesson, Hagar the Egyptian is a slave to the patriarch Abraham and his wife Sarah. Abraham, remember, was called by God when he was a moon-worshiper in Ur of the Chaldeans, and God made Abraham a promise that he would become the ancestor of many nations. “Look towards heaven,” God said to Abraham, “and count the stars, if you are able to count them…. So shall your descendants be” (Gen. 15:5). And Abraham believed this promise, and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.

But then time starts to pass, and Abraham’s wife Sarah becomes impatient. At 76 or 77 years old, Sarah says to her husband, “You see that the Lord has prevented me from bearing children” (16:2). So Sarah concocts a plan. She arranges for Abraham to marry her Egyptian slave-girl Hagar, thinking that if Hagar becomes pregnant, the son that she bears for Abraham will be his heir. Maybe that is the way God intends the promise of offspring to be fulfilled.

Abraham agrees to this plan, and he conceives a child with Hagar, and immediately this creates bad blood between Hagar and Sarah, Abraham’s two wives. Sarah complains to Abraham, “I gave my slave-girl to your embrace, and when she saw that she had conceived, she looked on me with contempt” (16:5). Abraham, in effect, throws up his hands and tries to step away from the situation. “Your slave-girl is in your power,” he tells Sarah; “do to her as you please” (16:6). And Sarah does. She “deals harshly with her” (16:6), and Hagar flees.

By the time of our reading this morning, Hagar has had her son, Ishmael, and has returned to her mistress Sarah. Sarah, too, has finally had a son, a miracle child, Isaac. At the opening of our reading, Sarah sees Ishmael “playing” with her son Isaac (21:9). It’s hard to know what exactly is in view here. Some Bible readers have wondered if there are sexual connotations in this word, so that what Ishmael is doing with Isaac perhaps amounts to some kind of sexual abuse. Other readers have pointed out that, in the original Hebrew, the word for play sounds very similar to Isaac’s name — so Ishmael may be “Isaac-ing,” which is to say, “playing as if he were Isaac,” jostling for the position of the true heir, and trying to displace his half-brother.

Whatever the case, Sarah, Abraham’s first wife, reacts with jealous fury. She turns to Abraham and says, “Cast out this slave woman with her son; for the son of this slave woman shall not inherit along with my son Isaac” (21:10). Sarah can’t even bring herself to say their names. She reacts without pity and without mercy. It was Sarah’s plan in the first place for Hagar to have a son, but now that Isaac is on the scene, Sarah doesn’t want to share what she views as her son’s rightful inheritance. So Hagar and Ishmael have to go.

Perhaps most disturbingly of all is the way God seems to side with Sarah in ejecting Hagar and Ishmael. God says to Abraham: “whatever Sarah says to you, do as she tells you, for it is through Isaac that offspring shall be named after you” (21:12). Not only is Hagar losing her human community; she seems also to be losing her God.

The next morning, Abraham gets up early, and he gives Hagar and Ishmael a bit of bread and a container full of water and sends them off into the desert. With minimal provisions and an unforgiving landscape ahead of them, Hagar and Ishmael are going to their death.

A story like this is so familiar to many of us that we can easily ignore how unbearably tragic it is. Martin Luther, the Protestant Reformer, lingers over the tragedy of it: “Surely this is a piteous account, which I can scarcely read with dry eyes, that the mother and son so patiently bear their ejection and wander into exile. And so Father Abraham either stood there weeping, following the wanderers with his blessings and prayers, or else he hid by himself off in a corner, where he cried over his own fate and that of the exiles." 

With barely enough provisions to survive for a handful of days, the African slave woman and her son are banished into the wilderness to suffer death alone.

The feminist Old Testament scholar Phyllis Trible, in her classic book Texts of Terror, writes this about Hagar: “As one of the first females in scripture to experience use, abuse, and rejection, Hagar the Egyptian slave claims our attention.” Trible wrote those words in 1984. How much more are they true today! Hagar claims our attention in 2020 too because we know Hagar’s face. We who live in the era of #MeToo and Black Lives Matter, we know about victimized women of color. It’s no wonder that Delores Williams says: “The African-American community has taken Hagar’s story unto itself. Hagar has “spoken” to generation after generation of black women because her story has been validated as true by suffering black people. She and Ishmael together, as family, model many black American families in which a lone woman/mother struggles to hold the family together in spite of the poverty to which the ruling class economics consign it. Hagar, like many black women, goes into the wide world to make a living for herself and her child, with only God by her side.”

And yet, for me, the worst part of this whole story is that God doesn’t seem to be by Hagar’s side. God seems to have abandoned Hagar and her son to suffer their fate. Martin Luther says that if you read the story from Hagar’s perspective, it looks for all the world like even God has forsaken Hagar. God is the friend of Abraham, so if Abraham divorces Hagar and sends her out into the desert to die, then why would she not think that God is the one breaking faith with her and sending her out to die?

And isn’t that where so many of us today live our lives too — in the fear or the dread certainty that God has indeed written us off and left us to suffer our fate alone? It’s no wonder so many people in our world today can identify with Hagar’s story. As Phyllis Trible says, “[A]ll sorts of rejected women find their stories in [Hagar]. She is the faithful maid exploited, the black woman used by the male and abused by the female of the ruling class, the surrogate mother, the resident alien without legal recourse, the other woman, the runaway youth, the religious fleeing from affliction, the pregnant young woman alone, the expelled wife, the divorced mother with child, the shopping bag lady carrying bread and water, the homeless woman, the indigent relying upon handouts from the power structures, the welfare mother, and the self-effacing female whose own identity shrinks in service to others.”

And, if all that weren’t enough, Hagar is the Godforsaken. She is the one for whom God is not there, not present, not ready and available to help and to save.

Eventually the water that Abraham had given to Hagar runs out. All her options now exhausted, Hagar leaves her son under a bush. Then she walks away from him so that she won’t have to watch him die of dehydration, and she begins to cry out and weep.

But this is not the first time Hagar has found herself in exile. When she fled from her mistress Sarah’s harsh treatment on a previous occasion, she had also ended up in the wilderness. Hagar had run out to the desert, and God had met her there. God had found her, and just like God did with Abraham, God made a promise to Hagar that her son, Ishmael, would be a great nation too, so numerous “that they cannot be counted for multitude” (16:10). And then, absolutely remarkably, Hagar had spoken to the Lord and even dared to give the Lord a name: “You are El-roi.” Then she said, “Have I really seen God and remained alive after seeing him?” (16:13). The Hebrew name that Hagar gave to God means “God of seeing,” or, we could translate it, “the God who is seen.”

This is an absolutely stunning moment in the plotline of the Bible. Hagar the African, Hagar the slave, Hagar the Egyptian foreigner in the household of Abraham, received her own vision of God, apart from her mistress and her husband. She beheld God, and she dared to give God a name. In biblical religion, no one is able to see God and live (Exod. 33:20). And yet Hagar saw God. God revealed himself to Hagar.

As I was reading the story of Hagar’s exile again this week to prepare for this sermon, I found myself thinking back to a parable of sorts from the Christian philosopher Basil Mitchell. Mitchell asks us to imagine a country under military occupation. There is a group of resistance fighters who are trying to stand up for what’s right in this occupied territory, and one night, one of the members of the resistance meets a stranger. “The Stranger tells the partisan that he himself is on the side of the resistance — indeed, that he is in command of it, and urges the partisan to have faith in him no matter what happens.” That turns out to be easier said than done, because although the resistance fighter trusts the Stranger, the Stranger does a lot of things that seem to call that trust into question. “Sometimes he is seen in the uniform of the police handing over patriots to the occupying power,” and in moments like that, it is nearly impossible to go on trusting the Stranger. But he does. He does trust, and it is precisely the disparity or mismatch between his faith and the way the Stranger behaves “which constitutes the trial of his faith.”[1] What the resistance fighter has to do is appeal to what he knows about the Stranger from their first meeting over against what he sees of the Stranger’s behavior in the present. He has to tell himself, “Even though it doesn’t always look like it, the Stranger is on my side.”

That is exactly what is happening as Hagar cries out on behalf of her dying child Ishmael. She has already seen God. God has already met with her and made a promise to her. Now it looks like that promise was a lie and God has abandoned her to die. But Hagar won’t accept that. Instead she weeps and “lift[s] up her voice” (21:16). Hagar doesn’t acquiesce to her circumstances; she protests. She laments. She asks, in spite of all appearances, for help.

One of the saints of the church, Bishop Isidore of Seville, once said that what Hagar was doing as she cried there in the desert was crying out (unbeknownst to her) to Jesus, who hung forsaken by God on a tree. Bishop Isidore says that it is no accident that as Hagar cries out, her son is lying under a tree. She left him there under a shrub or bush, but if you look closely, says St. Isidore, that bush is a tree — the tree: the tree where slaves have been lynched, the tree where criminals have been hanged, the tree that represents all the misery and evil of our violent world, the tree to which God’s feet and hands were nailed outside Jerusalem over two thousand years ago. Although everything in her present experience seems to say that God has left her to die alone, Hagar appeals to the God of the cross. If you like, Hagar appeals to God against God. (As Luther says, biblical faith is “to press toward God against God and to call out.”) Hagar runs for refuge to the God revealed in the suffering and death of the cross, even as she flees from the God who is hidden, inscrutable, and terrifying.

And then the text says: “God heard the voice of the boy,” as he lies there under the cross. “[A]nd the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, and said to her, ‘What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is” (21:17). “Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water. She went, and filled the skin with water, and gave the boy a drink” (21:19).

I don’t know what kind of wilderness you may be wandering in this morning. I don’t know what shadow or foretaste of death you may be facing. Whatever it is, hear the word of “Hagar the theologian” (Trible): When you are rejected, when you even feel abandoned by God himself, there is hope. God is in the wilderness, and God is to be found there, on the tree, suffering with you, bringing you salvation, and redeeming your life from the grave. Trust God. Trust the God of the tree. Trust the God revealed in the cross of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

[1] See Fleming Rutledge, And God Spoke to Abraham, pp. 225-32.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I notice you post quite a bit about your family being extremely poor but also are an adult and seem to write a lot. Do you work to help out your family, or are you unable to? There are jobs out there that involve writing if that’s the extent you're capable of, like if disabilities get in the way of normal jobs. The level of poverty you describe your family dealing with is really depressing.

So...

I spent 11/14 years in one Christian School. There was a hiatus of 3 years of me trying out public school but I got shoved back into RBCS in 8th grade and stayed. I did not not want to go but Sperm Donor said it was a punishment for my behavior, so I’d be forced to be around Bible Thumpers every damn day.

Private Schools in America cost money. Tuition for this place was $1500 a year for kids over 10. I found out my mom’s brother John paid all my former years of education there to try and keep me close to the family(since my Nana was my school teacher) and make sure my mom didn’t go full broke.

Sperm Donor was in a pickle himself at the time. He was in the processes of being arrested for stealing nearly a million dollars from his clients(he was a financial adviser). He only took from the very desperate, disabled clients too. One died because her parents couldn’t afford her medication, because he was stealing their money. We were in a tight spot as a result, though I didn’t know enough until later. He didn’t pay my tuition or book fees($100+).

So he’s carted off to prison a month before 8th grade ends and I’m sent back to my mom’s custody. And my principal(also pastor) calls my mom to inform her that she has a $1600+ bill to pay for my schooling. She definitely does not have that and I certainly don’t either.

Next day at school I get cornered about how stealing is a sin and dishonesty is a sin(instead of blaming Sperm Donor because God forbid the man in prison for STEALING be in the wrong here). I’m offered a chance to lower the bill if I go candy-selling with the rest of the students every Friday. I will get half the profits made and it’ll be taken off my debt. So I told my mom I’d help her out and I went and did it. I ended up having to stay in the school another year where the money added on and I went candy-selling on Tuesdays too to try and make up for it. I’d earn about $50 each time so $100 a week was put toward the debt, meaning $400 a month. 

The chick who was the school/church secretary however, was a bitch who had it out for us. Monthly we’d get notices about how much debt we were in with the school, and one month a student would have $457 and the next month on the first day they apparently had $890. If tuition monthly is about $150 for teen, how did the number shoot up so much? Mine kept getting abnormally higher and reaching into the $3,000s. And I told my mom who then bitched at the school. 

The secretary barely finished high school and the only reason she was in that position that she was not capable of handling alone or at all, was because she was kissing the church’s ass. She had sex outside of marriage on school property and got pregnant and was forced to marry him to save her dignity the moment she turned 18. They kept her very close with guilt ever since. Instead of just leaving, she chose to stay and be a bitch to everyone.

My tuition issue plagued me the entire time no matter how much I did. I was so stressed constantly and letters from Sperm Donor who got to write to me in prison, said the school wouldn’t accept his tuition payments when he re-enrolled me. He said he even got his new fiance to monitor a fund he set up before leaving, and sent the money in monthly for the year he signed on. IDK who to believe because he’s a pathological liar, but the church has also been trying for 4 years to get me back into their fold, popping up at my mom’s house uninvited, trying to guilt trip me with Godly reasons, accusing me of being a ‘whore’ who needs to get right with God all because I wore pants, and using my terminally ill Nana as an excuse. They very much would and have actually taken payments without recording them in the logbooks.

I spent my HS years in debt, working hard to get out of it. My HS teacher actually helped me by letting me clean her house once a month and I’d earn $150 in two days because the house was pretty big. I ended up candy-selling more and more days a week and bringing candy boxes home to sell in the neighborhood.

And it seemed to never let up. The numbers did not match. Somehow my debt was always in the $2000s+ but I was making at least $300 a month? My mom finally snapped and said she’d call the cops on the school if something didn’t change. A month later we get the updates to our accounts and the numbers dropped drastically. My Senior Year and I only had a couple hundred dollars left. And the Secretary was suspiciously quiet from then on and kept to herself and left us alone.

Still, I spent the whole time doing candy-selling for them so much, and having to attend church activities for them, that I never got a job. Candy-selling actually brought in more money than what a teen would be allowed to earn anyway. At the time I was so up the church’s ass and scared to make my own decisions that they said I wasn’t capable of making because I was so young, I had already agreed to continue being the church pianist past graduation and they’d agreed to help me fund college so long as I went to the one of their choice with my friends. They had set up my future vocation(teacher in the their school, pianist in their church) and my future husband(Sam most likely) and I wouldn’t have to do anything but follow rules. And as I was scared, I planned to go along with it.

But then they fucked me over a week before Senior Year ended and when June 5th passed and I got my diploma, I peaced out. We changed our phone number, stopped coming to the door when they came by, and ignored their chances at re-connection. And it was months after I got fucked over when they found out they were the ones in the wrong and tried to half ass an apology to me. Didn’t work.

After graduating, my step-dad demanded I get a job finally. Mind you, his failure of a son dropped out of HS & moved to PA with us and proceeded to rely on daddy to do all his work for him. Daddy got him a job at Weis, he faked being sick so much he was fired. Daddy got him another job at Walmart, he took too many days off and he got fired. He moved out of our house and in with his new girlfriend(after milking 3 of their cash already). This one was a trust fund baby(Bree) who was adopted. Her parents paid for her apartment, her nursing education, and gave her a card with $1,000 on it a month for anything she needed. Step-bro moved in and they wasted that whole card name-brand candy in a week. 

She started skipping classes to go out to eat with him. Her parents stopped by to see if she was doing well because the school became concerned over abnormal behavior. They wanted step-bro out of the apartment and the relationship to end because they said he was using her for her money(he was and admitted it to mine and my mom’s faces) and would get in the way of her goals in life. She refused. They said they’d take away her card if she didn’t. Well, they did. And another month went by with no changes and they withdrew the full payments for the schooling too. She dropped out. And finally the apartment a month after that.

So now she’s homeless and step-bro manages to swindle both of them back into our apartment. They have to sleep on the floor in the living room. Daddy got them both jobs at Amazon with him. The pay was pretty fucking good at the time. There was a year in between there where we had money and were contemplating getting our own house for the first time. Things were going well.

Step-dad didn’t try to help me get a job though. I asked for help because my search went nowhere. Those 3 got transportation every day and I was stuck with walking. We lived on a mountain and all businesses were at the bottom 2 miles away, so I applied to all available businesses within 2 miles, either in person or online. Never got any responses. As it was a bust, my mom just said, ‘help clean the house since they’re gone all day and help be my legs to watch your sister and I’ll consider that your rent’. So I did. Every day. And I hated it. And there are a lot of posts on here from then of me complaining about it.

So I asked him for help and he never did. But he would demand to know why I didn’t have a job yet or why the house wasn’t perfectly clean? And I’m like, “Dude, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere. You don’t take your dishes into the kitchen. I clean in the day, you get back in the evening and trash the place and by the morning when you’re gone, it’s all a mess. You only see mess because it’s all you 3 make all day with candy wrappers and soda cans!”

After year he had a seizure on the floor and had to be rushed to the hospital from Amazon. Epileptic issues meant no more work at Amazon because his job was operating heavy machinery and he kept having small seizures weeks later! Without him there every day to keep step-bro and gf on their toes, they started calling in sick together or skipping work with dumb reasons. They got fired soon after. The job hunt was a failure, but daddy was still getting jobs for all of them! Instead of over the table jobs, they now worked under the table, fixing up houses(sheetrock, spackle, insulation, etc...). Still didn’t try and help me get a job. I didn’t know how to do any of that, but gf didn’t either but they taught her how to do it.

Frankly, it got to a point of me being a live-in maid in exchange for me staying under their roof, while step-bro and gf made up excuses to not have to help step-dad. Sick, business, too tired, whatever they came up with. I remained home, handling my sister’s online education with my mom, cleaning the house, handling my sister’s bullies, handling our shitty inspector, and all that crap.

Step-dad takes in a friend of his who was evicted and homeless so he’s sleeping on our other couch at this time. Kind of easy to forget but we felt bad for his situation as it was his girlfriend who fucked him over.

And then step-dad and step-bro opened their mouths on something they should have avoided. In that place we kept to ourselves. There was shady shit going on. Murder, drug deals, drive-bys, etc. Mom and I left them all alone and turned the other way and they left us alone. 19 years in that place. If a cop came by asking questions of the only white person in the joint, she’d go, ‘we know nothing, we saw nothing, sorry’. But step-dad and Junior opened their mouths and one of the newer guys reported the son and gf because they weren’t on our lease. We got evicted after 19 years of good relations with management because someone inserted an opinion in something he should have stayed out of.

So 30 days to gtfo, no one in the house has a real job with consistent pay, we move in with my mom’s uncle for the time being. The house is huge with many bedrooms but to conserve space, I, mom, and my sister bunk in the same room. Mom and Bethy got the bed and I slept on the floor for 2 years. Step-dad don’t know what the eff he’s doing for months. We’re up in buttfuck Egypt. He and the Tweedle dimwits are still doing what they were doing before but now have to drive 3 hours to and 3 hours back just to make it. Mom is doing surveys online to make extra money. She’s trying to do her best while disabled. I’m helping clean the house as my form of payment. The car fails, money that was being saved up to move out, has to go to that. The next one fails too so that has to be handled and we’re in debt now! Christmases and Birthdays are nonexistent. Her Uncle’s new wife isn’t quite so open to us being there and complains a lot.

Step-dad manages to make a deal with a guy he’s working with. He fixes up a house the guy owns, and works for him on more houses after that, and he’ll get a considerably low payment for the rent monthly. He didn’t do much work and lied to mom about what was done and when all was said and done, we moved in and it was a wreck. Worse than it is now but it’s still pretty effin terrible. No kitchen, the bathroom is half-finished still, no insulation, power problems, you name it. It’s bad. But cheap because the lease shows we owe $20 a month instead of $200 because the guy forgot to add a zero when he was drawing up the contract.

Then step-bro and gf manage to convince step-bro’s grammy to move down to PA and rent a house for them to use. They still don’t have jobs, disabled grammy pays for everything. Step-dad’s couch-dwelling friend gets a new gf and moves in with her. Step-dad is driving 3 hours to work and by the time he gets back, he sleeps for 4 hours and then has to leave again. Finally he starts staying at his son’s place because it’s closer and less gas to spend, but that also means he’s taken the car. We’re stranded here with only a mini mart across the street as the only shop for miles! He makes excuses for why he can’t come up. Mom has so many health problems but hasn’t seen a doctor in 5 years because of this. I haven’t seen one in 6. My sister is the only one with regular appointments because they’re necessary for school. If anything, at least she remains unaffected by this crap.

I too have taken to doing surveys now. If I get 500 pts a day that’s a $5 gift card to target which delivers here. One of the few places that do.

I can’t even work at the mini mart because the man has 6 employees for each day of the day. 1 works with him each day but Monday where he works alone because there’s less rush on Mondays.

No matter how I complain it’s not like I can go anywhere. There’s still a roof over my head and I have access to the internet. Even if I’m cold every day, borderline ill, and miserable, it’s better than being on the streets.

Some poor people are very unlucky. We are those people. The ones where everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Step-dad’s been through 4 cars since coming here cuz they keep breaking down and needing to be fixed. My sister’s been sick every other month. Power goes out a lot.

I cope by whining online.

[andthest0ryg0es]

This Isn’t Happening - Chapter 14

My sincere apologies for the LONG wait between chapters. Real Life and writing with @ohh-la-la-leto sidetrack me a lot. :) There’s only a few chapters left of this story and I’m hoping to post them all over the next couple months. THANK YOU, dear readers, for sticking with me and continuing to like and share my writing. It means more than you know. <3

   Two weeks ago Jared had gone hiking with a few female friends and snap chatted the whole day. Twitter had delighted in trying to figure out which of them may have been the one dressed as Robin at the party. Jen was both relieved that the identity of Robin was still a secret and annoyed that people assumed he must be fucking every female friend he has. Jared was posting pretty regularly on social media while they were apart, and it was nice to sort of relax into talking with her friends about the upcoming album and tour. She avoided the girlfriend subject entirely and no one minded or seemed to take particular notice.

She knew Jared was trolling her twitter account and she briefly thought about making it private and telling him to fuck off but she figured he’d probably already seen the worst of it and she may as well own her enthusiastic echelon status. If there was one thing Jared and Mars had taught her, it was to be herself. She knew he was viewing her account because he would sometimes text her with answers to questions or comments about the band that she was RTing like any echelon would. When will the new album be out? “Soon. :)” Where’s Shannon, we miss him. “I tried to talk Shannon into getting snapchat, he said it was stupid. :( Maybe I can convince him to start posting coffee facts again at least...” I wonder what tattoo Jared is going to get for the new era. “I have that planned already, actually. You want to be there when I get it done? Take some pics for me?” She’d nearly fallen out of her chair for that one. Watching Jared Leto get a tattoo might just be the limit of what her fangirl heart could take.

No one had posted or discussed the Halloween pics in awhile and Jared and friend’s snaps and Instagram stories from Thanksgiving, with no Robin in sight, seemed to convince the echelon it was a one night sort of thing. That narrative pissed her off more than the “which fabulous female friend is he fucking” one because it was quickly becoming tiring that everyone online thought they “knew him” and had an opinion on his life. And yes, Jen was well aware of how hypocritical that sounded given her twitter history but circumstances change and she’d definitely learned a thing or two about Jared, and even Shannon and Tomo, that the internet had gotten just so wrong.

Between secret projects and many late nights working to finish up the album by their deadline, Jared was just as busy as she was during their month apart. Inconveniently, his schedule was usually very opposite to hers as well. This resulted in a lot of sleepy late night or early morning phone calls where one or both of them were too tired to do much more than small talk. Jared made up for it in other ways though. Teacher appreciation week at her school was a bigger hit than ever when an “anonymous donor” sent a different food truck each day to feed all the staff. She came home each Friday night to a beautiful bouquet of flowers at her doorstep. And two weeks in when she’d complained that the t-shirt she stole from him didn’t smell like him anymore she received a package that night containing a t-shirt in a sealed ziplock bag with a sticky note attached that just said “xo.”

Throughout the month apart it seemed her nervousness for their planned time together evolved a different reasoning every week. The first week she obsessed over whether or not planning to spend a month for all intents and purposes living with a famous, rich boyfriend she’d only been with for three months was an entirely sensible idea or really just made her a slut and a gold-digger. Jared assured her on multiple occasions that she was clearly neither of those things. Week two and three she worried about being outed as Jared’s girlfriend and what that meant for her privacy and online social life. Jared suggested making her twitter and other accounts private before December was probably not the worst idea. She tried not to go CSI: Echelon on him when she pointed out he wouldn’t be able to see her tweets anymore then and he said that it wouldn’t be a problem.

Now she was down to simply being terrified about meeting Constance. She couldn’t recall having met a boyfriend’s parents anytime since high school. And Constance was an absolute icon, someone the echelon really looked up to. She didn’t talk to Jared about this particular fear much because the one time she brought it up all he did was gush about how awesome his mom was for half an hour and yes, Jared, she already knows that. That’s what all the nerves are about! So instead she circled back to asking him if he was sure about her invading his space for a full month and complaining that the sticky note path Shannon had helped her make so she wouldn't get lost had been removed in her absence. Jared was more than reassuring that it would be fun, he would make sure she didn’t get lost and yes, a month long “date” is maybe not traditional but what about him was? By the end of their time apart she was truly excited for their next month together.

Jen managed to pack fairly lightly thanks to a few reminders and packing tips from Jared and his tour experience. A couple of Xanax before her flight balanced out by a Starbucks, and omg was she looking forward to an unlimited supply of Black Fuel for the next month, and she was on her way.

“Sweetheart!” Jared called out to her as she ran to him from the car in his driveway. Jen threw herself into his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck and refused to let go, even as he walked out to pick up her bags and tip the driver for delivering her safely to him.

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his neck as he maneuvered them inside the house.

“I can tell,” he smirked, prying her arms off of him and kissing her. “You sure you’re ready for a whole month of the craziness around here?”

“I’m very much looking forward to it. Besides, I can just hide in your room whenever I want, right?” she asked.

“Okay, so don’t take this the wrong way...” Jared said as he guided her down the hallway with his hand on her back and Jen tensed. He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly as he opened the door to one of the first rooms off the end of the hall, before it splits into the labyrinth of passageways that leads to the back of the house. “You have a tendency to get lost in the back of the house and I thought since you’re going to be here for awhile you might want your own space where you can actually find it.”

The room was beautiful, definitely bigger than his, with a king size bed and lots of pretty blue accents all around the room, her favorite color. She could see what she guessed were Shayla’s touches in the room, from the makeup vanity to the cute flower curtains. Jen was pretty sure she remembered it being an office last time she was here, so she knew he put a lot of thought into this, even if it was one of the assistants who put it together for her. She spun on her heels and attacked him with a big kiss. “I love it, thank you.”

Jared let out a breath neither of them realized he was holding. “You are welcome to come hide in my room anytime you want, sweetheart. I don’t want you to think I’m banishing you to the other side of the house,” he insisted, wrapping his arms around her and dropping kisses along her neck.

“Hey, I’d have been happy with a little closet space and a drawer for the month but you gave me a whole room. I know you were sick of tripping over my suitcase and all my stuff in your room when I was here for just a week so this is much more practical. Thank you, really,” she said, kissing him again. The look of relief on his face intrigued her. “Were you nervous about this? That’s adorable,” she commented, patting his cheek.

Jared blushed. “Stevie and Shannon were taking bets on how fast you’d run out the door. They said I was going too ‘Christian Grey’ on you, whatever that means.”

Jen laughed but blushed and hid her face in his chest. “Really, Jared? Does everyone know I submit to you in the bedroom?” she asked shyly.

“Um... They know my proclivities and they know you’re dating me. I think most people just put 2 and 2 together, sweetheart,” he explained, hugging her reassuringly. “You want some time to unpack or would you like to come join us in the studio? We’ve got a couple more hours probably.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming to the studio. Come on,” Jen answered excitedly, dropping her things at the foot of the bed and grabbing Jared’s hand to pull him out of the room. Of course, she barely made it down the hall before she quietly let Jared take the lead because she was lost again. Jared smiled knowingly and pulled her along behind him into the lab.

“Guys, Jen, Jen, guys,” Jared said by way of introductions, pointing to a couch off to the side where she could sit. “Who changed this configuration? I was gone five minutes!” Jared asked, instantly absorbed in his work again. Jen pulled her legs up on the couch and rested her chin on her knee, settling in to watch him work.

She wasn’t sure how long passed before she was startled by the couch jumping as a body crashed down onto it next to her and she suddenly found herself wrapped in Shannon’s bear hug. “If you keep staring at him like that I swear I’m gonna puke,” he teased.

“Shut up.” Jen covered her now red face with her hands. “I can’t help it. He’s mesmerizing when he’s in work mode. And honestly, what echelon wouldn't watch him given the chance?”

“I’ve seen echelon watch him work, they don’t make the same heart eyes you do. I can practically see the little hearts floating around your head,” Shannon said quietly, making sure his brother couldn’t overhear.

“Shannon, stop, please. I can’t even... I’m in so far over my head with him. Its been four months and we’ve seen each other like six times in that time. No one is using the ‘L’ word anytime soon so you can keep all that heart talk to yourself, thank you,” she admonished him.

“That’s fine. I just want to make sure you know that you’re different,” Shannon said.

“I know. He makes sure I know it, too,” she replied sweetly.

“Shannon, stop harassing my girlfriend and get back to work,” Jared warned, grabbing Shannon by the collar and playfully pulling him away from her. “You need anything?” Jared asked, checking the time on his phone. “We should be ready to break for dinner soon.”

The word soon made her smile involuntarily as she shook her head. “I’m good.” Jared leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on her lips before returning to work. Jared pushed maybe a little longer than he should have at getting whatever sound it is he’s trying to capture. Everyone was increasingly frustrated and tired by the time Shannon finally approached Jared and whispered something in his ear that made him look over at Jen. She was still in the same spot on the couch, head propped up on her arms which are wrapped around her knees, but her gaze had gone glassy and she wasn’t paying as much attention as she was before.

“Okay guys, lets call it a night,” Jared announced and everyone rushed to shut down the studio and get out of there. Jen was so zoned out that she didn’t even register what was happening until Jamie and Stevie went rushing past her on their way out the door. Only Jared and Shannon remained in the room with her now. “You still with us, sweetheart?” Jared teased as he finished turning off the last of his equipment.

Jen blinked her daze away and sat up, stretching. “Shannon, are you staying for dinner?” she asked, ignoring Jared’s smart remark. Shannon put out his hands for hers and pulled her to standing and then wrapped his arms around her middle, picking her up in a big bear hug that cracked her back satisfyingly. When he set her down she gave him a smaller hug in return.

“You two haven’t had a night together in what, a month? I think if I stayed for dinner tonight Jared might just kill me and carry on with the band without me,” he said with a wink. “Have fun you two,” he called over his shoulder as he exited the studio, flicking the light switch off on his way out, leaving Jared and Jen alone in the dark.

Jen didn’t move, letting her eyes adjust to what little light was streaming into the studio windows from the moon. Jared easily made his way over to her due to his familiarity with the space and wrapped his arms around her. “You hungry?”

“Starving, but I didn’t want to interrupt and I’m not certain I’d have found my way back to my room alone,” she admitted sheepishly.

Jared pulled away for a moment and she heard him rummaging through a drawer before he was suddenly by her side again. He took her hand and as he led her through the halls he stopped at each corner and drew a small arrow with a black sharpie, indicating which way she should go to find her way back. “This is slightly more permanent than sticky notes,” he commented.

“You’re ruining your walls. For me?” she asked while she beamed at him.

“For you. You should be able to find your way to food at least. It’s only three turns. I’ve never met someone with such a bad sense of direction before,” he teased her.

“This place is insane. I’m sure I’ll figure it out given time,” she said as they entered the kitchen. Jared led her to a stool at the counter and pulled it out for her, guiding her to sit and placing a kiss on her temple before he turned to the fridge. He started pulling out ingredients and setting them out on the counter while she leaned over, trying to see what he was doing. “Whatcha got there?”

“Tonight’s menu is homemade guacamole and tortillas with grilled peppers,” he informed her as he set to work cooking. Jen sat back in awe. Jared looked up at her and chuckled. “Yes, there are a few things I can cook,” he said mockingly.

“I didn’t say anything,” she defended angelically. They kept up small talk long enough to get through most of their meal before the tension finally got to her.

“You know, I’m very impressed with the restraint we’ve shown today. I think we proved that we can be adult about our relationship and not just hump each other like bunnies every time we see each other.”

“Well, I have a work deadline and I told you I’d have to be in the studio a lot, that’s why you’re staying for so long,” Jared began defensively but she cut him off by placing her fingers on his lips.

“Jared... fuck me,” she said bluntly.

“Oh, right, yeah,” Jared laughed, scooping her up off the stool and spinning them towards her bedroom. “Another convenient thing about this room; its so much closer to the kitchen,” he said as he opened the door and set her down in front of the bed, kissing her fiercely.

They ripped at each other’s clothing, not bothering to be gentle about stripping down as quickly as possible and molding their naked bodies against each other once more as they fell back onto the bed. Jared pushed the mound of pillows at the head of the bed aside, and reached up. Suddenly Jen found her right wrist encased in a padded leather cuff. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Yet another convenient feature of this room,” he cited with a grin. When she made no further protest he quickly secured her other wrist as well, leaving her spread bare beneath him.

Now that he had her where he wanted her, his pace slowed and she groaned. “Jared, it’s been a month since you’ve touched me. Please don’t tease,” she begged despite her suspicion it would be useless. The evil laugh she got in response confirmed her suspicion, even as he drew his hand down her body to her slick center.

“What do you want?” he asked in that voice that made her clench her thighs together despite his hand between her legs.

“Oh, god, I want to cum for you,” she pleaded, already lost to her desire.

Jared pushed two fingers into her and pumped them in and out slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity of his gaze held her in place beneath him as he worked her into a frenzy. He swiped his thumb against her clit and she keened, arching her back and closing her eyes uncontrollably, finally breaking his gaze.

“Beg,” he ordered, redoubling his efforts now with his fingers inside her and his thumb against her clit. She devolved into a gasping mess of pleases and curses before he brought his other hand up to her face, holding her chin so she was forced to look him in the eye. He slid his hand down to her neck, applying pressure lightly as he growled the order, “Cum.”

Jen screamed as her body shook with the climax she’d been denied for weeks. Jared kept working her with his fingers, letting up only a little bit in consideration of her post orgasmic sensitivity. As she tried to buck her hips away he applied more pressure to her neck, a feral grin on his face. He controlled her breathing and her body, pinning her legs open with the way he positioned himself between them, holding her at the crest of her pleasure. Seconds later he brought his mouth down to her breast and issued the command again, “Cum!” as he bit down on her left nipple, pulling it taut between his teeth.

Her body bowed beneath him and her mouth opened to scream but no sound came out for several long seconds. Just as she reached the peak and was starting to come down from her second earth shattering orgasm, Jared pulled his hands from her body and lined himself up, pushing into her to the hilt in one strong thrust. She cursed his name and pulled at the restraints, but wrapped her legs around him in invitation. He was impressed she still had the use of her limbs. Jared fucked her into the mattress unrelentingly, seeking the pleasure he knew he’d quickly find with her gorgeous body wrapped around him. He soon pulled out of her and stroked himself rapidly as he painted her body with his cum.

Jared managed to reach up and release her wrists before slumping to the bed beside her, panting. It was several minutes before either of them really moved or spoke, but Jared was gently caressing his hand along her arm the entire time, maintaining their intimacy. Eventually Jen broke the silence.

“One inconvenient feature of this room: the bathroom is across the hall,” she said, still slightly out of breath. “I can’t go running out there covered in your cum even if you tell me no-one is here. I’m too paranoid for that,” she tells him, smiling.

Jared leans up and kisses her, then points at the door in the corner of the room. “En suite bathroom,” he says. “This used to be a private office.”

“I thought that was a closet,” she said as she got out of bed and went to open the door. The bathroom wasn’t huge, but the shower was a beautiful grey tile and had a small bench and a rainfall spout. “You really thought of everything, huh?” she mused as she started the water.

“Not everything,” he admitted, rolling off the bed to join her. “If I’d remembered how much of a screamer you were I’d have soundproofed before you got here, sweetheart” he teased, pulling her in for another kiss.

The pair showered quickly, light touches and kisses enough after satisfying their craving for each other so completely minutes ago. They dried off and Jen scooped a couple pillows up off the floor and climbed back into bed, exhausted. Jared laid beside her, draping one arm across her torso. Within minutes he was squirming and adjusting in the bed, unable to find a comfortable position. He’d bought the bed for her, knowing she loved the soft mattress at the hotel in Vegas, but his sleeping preference was vastly different.

“Jared, why don’t you go sleep in your room? You really don’t have to stay,” Jen told him, kissing his jaw.

“I didn’t want to run out on you,” he said quietly, dropping kisses along her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be asleep in seconds. Honestly, I’m used to sleeping alone and I know you’d rather be sleeping on the floor. I don’t mind,” she assured him.

Jared stood from the bed and tucked her in, setting his hands on either side of her head and leaning in for a kiss before righting himself. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Jared,” she sighed and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly with a smile on her face.

[dfroza]

Paul illuminates the significance of forgiveness and grace in the writing of a Letter.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 2nd chapter of the Letter of 2nd Corinthians:

I finally determined that I would not come to you again for yet another agonizing visit. If my visits create such pain and sorrow for you, who can cheer me up except for those I’ve caused such grief? This is exactly what I was writing to you about earlier so that when we are face-to-face I will not have to wallow in sadness in the presence of friends who should bring me the utmost joy. For I felt sure that my delight would also become your delight. My last letter to you was covered with tears, composed with great difficulty, and frankly, a broken heart. It wasn’t my intention to depress you or cause you pain; rather, I had hoped you would see it for what it was—a demonstration of the overwhelming love I have for all of you.

But if anyone has caused harm, he has not so much harmed me as he has—and I don’t think I’m exaggerating here—harmed all of you. In my view, the majority of you have punished him well enough. So instead of continuing to ostracize him, I encourage you to offer him the grace of forgiveness and the comfort of your acceptance. Otherwise, if he finds no welcome back to the community, I’m afraid he will be overwhelmed with extreme sorrow and lose all hope. So I urge you to demonstrate your love for him once again. I wrote these things to you with a clear purpose in mind: to test whether you are willing to live and abide by all my counsel. If you forgive anyone, I forgive that one as well. Have no doubt, anything that I have forgiven—when I do forgive—is done ultimately for you in the presence of the Anointed One. It’s my duty to make sure that Satan does not win even a small victory over us, for we don’t want to be naïve and then fall prey to his schemes.

When I arrived at Troas, bringing the good news of the Anointed, the Lord opened a door there for me. Yet my spirit was restless because I could not find my brother Titus. Eventually I told them good-bye and set out for Macedonia.

Yet I am so thankful to God, who always marches us to victory under the banner of the Anointed One; and through us He spreads the beautiful fragrance of His knowledge to every corner of the earth. In a turbulent world where people are either dying or being rescued, we are the sweet smell of the Anointed to God our Father. To those who are dying, they smell the stench of death in us. And to those being rescued, we are the unmistakable scent of life. Who is worthy of this calling? For we are nothing like the others who sell the word of God like a commodity. Do not be mistaken; our words come from God with the utmost sincerity, always spoken through the Anointed in the presence of God.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 2 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 53rd chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that illuminates the significance of the forgiveness of sins through the suffering of the Son on our behalf:

Indeed, who would ever believe it?

Who would possibly accept what we’ve been told?

Who has witnessed the awesome power and plan of the Eternal in action?

Out of emptiness he came, like a tender shoot from rock-hard ground.

He didn’t look like anything or anyone of consequence—

he had no physical beauty to attract our attention.

So he was despised and forsaken by men,

this man of suffering, grief’s patient friend.

As if he was a person to avoid, we looked the other way;

he was despised, forsaken, and we took no notice of him.

Yet it was our suffering he carried,

our pain and distress, our sick-to-the-soul-ness.

We just figured that God had rejected him,

that God was the reason he hurt so badly.

But he was hurt because of us; he suffered so.

Our wrongdoing wounded and crushed him.

He endured the breaking that made us whole.

The injuries he suffered became our healing.

We all have wandered off, like shepherdless sheep,

scattered by our aimless striving and endless pursuits;

The Eternal One laid on him, this silent sufferer,

the sins of us all.

And in the face of such oppression and suffering—silence.

Not a word of protest, not a finger raised to stop it.

Like a sheep to a shearing, like a lamb to be slaughtered,

he went—oh so quietly, oh so willingly.

Oppressed and condemned, he was taken away.

From this generation, who was there to complain?

Who was there to cry “Foul”?

He was, after all, cut off from the land of the living,

Smacked and struck, not on his account,

because of how my people (my people!)

Disregarded the lines between right and wrong.

They snuffed out his life.

And when he was dead, he was buried with the disgraced

in borrowed space (among the rich),

Even though he did no wrong by word or deed.

Yet the Eternal One planned to crush him all along,

to bring him to grief, this innocent servant of God.

When he puts his life in sin’s dark place, in the pit of wrongdoing,

this servant of God will see his children and have his days prolonged.

For in His servant’s hand, the Eternal’s deepest desire will come to pass and flourish.

As a result of the trials and troubles that wrack his soul,

God’s servant will see light and be content

Because He knows, really understands, what it’s about; as God says,

“My just servant will justify countless others by taking on their punishment and bearing it away.

Because he exposed his very self—

laid bare his soul to the vicious grasping of death—

And was counted among the worst, I will count him among the best.

I will allot this one, My servant, a share in all that is of any value,

Because he took on himself the sin of many

and acted on behalf of those who broke My law.”

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 53 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, july 31 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about how we see, how we come to view life through baptism eyes:

We are instructed to see small miracles, everyday "signs and wonders..." Our Torah portion this week (Eikev) includes the commandment: “And you shall bless the LORD your God for the good land he has given you.” (Deut. 8:10). Whenever we derive benefit or enjoyment from something we are to bless (i.e., thank) God for his goodness. Jewish tradition says that if one eats or drinks without saying a blessing, it is as if he has stolen from God. From the verse, “What does the LORD ask of you...” (Deut. 10:12), the sages infer that a person should say at least 100 blessings a day, since the word מה, “what,” alludes to the word מאה, a “hundred.” The Hebrew term for gratitude is hakarat tovah (הַכָּרַת טוֹבָה), a phrase that means "recognizing the good." The heart looks through the eye, and therefore how we see is ultimately a spiritual decision: "If your eye is "single" (i.e., ἁπλοῦς, sincere, focused)," Yeshua said, "your whole body will be filled with light" (Matt. 6:22). When we see rightly, we are awakened to God's Presence in the little things of life, those small miracles and glories that constantly surround us. The good eye of faith sees hundreds of reasons to bless God for the precious gift of life (1 Cor. 10:31). Open your eyes... The LORD is "enthroned among the blessings of His people" (Psalm 22:3).

Addictions, cravings, lusts, etc., arise from a refusal to be satisfied, by hungering for more than the blessing of the present moment. "My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water" (Jer. 2:13). The living waters are present for us, but we will only find them if we open our hearts to the wonder of God in this moment. We can "break the spell" of continual dissatisfaction, of the power of greed, ambition, and so on, when we discover that our constant hunger is really a cry for God and His blessing. This is the blessed “hunger and thirst” given by the Spirit (Matt. 5:6). Our sense of inner emptiness is an invitation to come to the waters and drink life. So come to God's table and ask the Lord Yeshua to give you the water that will satisfy your heart's true thirst for life...

It is written: “Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him! Oh, fear the LORD, you his saints, for those who fear him have no lack” (Psalm 34:8-9). We can only “taste and see” when we are earnest however, when we seek God with passion... When you pray, lift up your heart and soul to God, asking for the miracle to surrender to Him in the truth. Where it says, "with all your heart" (בְּכָל־לְבָבְךָ), present before him all your passion and desires; your hopes and your needs, your fears and your anger; and where it says, "with all your soul" (וּבְכָל־נַפְשְׁךָ), offer before him your very soul, as if to be sacrificed in his service; and where it says, "with all your muchness" (וּבְכָל־מְאדֶךָ) offer to him all your strength, all your means, and all your dreams. Ask to be filled with the Ruach HaKodesh to be enabled to apprehend the glory of God in the face of the Messiah (בִּפְנֵי הַמָּשִׁיחַ), through whom we are being transformed for the glory of God. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.30.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 31, 2021

The Good Confession

“I give thee charge in the sight of God, who quickeneth all things, and before Christ Jesus, who before Pontius Pilate witnessed a good confession.” (1 Timothy 6:13)

Young Timothy also had “professed a good profession [same word as ‘confession’] before many witnesses” (v. 12), evidently of similar substance and quality to that in the witness of Christ before Pilate. When the Jews urged Pilate to condemn Jesus to death, their charge was that “he made himself the Son of God” (John 19:7). Pilate gave Jesus opportunity to deny this charge and save His life, “but Jesus gave him no answer” (v. 9). Both by His silence, when a denial of the charge could have saved Him, and by His open testimony before Pilate that He was, in fact, a King from heaven itself—indeed “the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords” (1 Timothy 6:15)—it becomes clear that our own “good confession” must be a confession of our faith in Jesus Christ as Son of God, our Savior and Lord, especially when that confession is made openly before hostile witnesses.

Jesus said: “Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 10:32). Paul said, “If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved” (Romans 10:9); and John said, “Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God” (1 John 4:15).

Despite the great blessings awaiting all who make a courageous and good confession of saving faith in Christ, most people will refuse until it is too late. There is a time coming, however, when “every tongue [will] confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:11). HMM

[gaarfielf]

my list of lupin movies ive watched for the sake of keeping track and making sure i dont rewatch some

Castle of Cagliostro (10)

favourite Lupin movie of all time. Fantastic art, cast, plot, everything.

Blood Seal: Eternal Mermaid (8.5)

Really good animation and really interesting plot. Another ‘Lupin has to babysit’ movie but it was treated in such a way that set it apart from other ones. He gives her a lot of good advice and overall I really enjoyed this one even if it’s kind of underrated.

Burning Memory - Tokyo Crisis (8.5)

Surprisingly good like I wasn’t expecting a 90′s Lupin movie to come for me like this but the animation is really solid and the movie itself was really funny. I also liked that Maria and Zenigata weren’t a thing like that cleared my pores.

The Bloodspray of Ishikawa Goemon (8)

The animation is fucking stellar but there were odd gaps in the movie that were really inactive. I liked the two subplots going on though like they were both interesting.

Bye Bye Lady Liberty (8)

The classic convoluted subplots worked well here tbh and the Goemon romance stuff was gunshot noise gunshot noise cash register noise. The animation had this weird glow to it but it was (almost) the 90s lol

Hemingway Papers (8)

They really got me with Goemon and Jigen going against each other and Lupin being in a relationship with someone aside from Fujiko (a relationship that was genuinely romantic) was actually pretty well done. That whole bit at the end with the karaoke machine? Amazing

Return the Treasure (7)

Another one that was really close to being perfect. The only loose ends was that the “treasure” wasn’t really explained very well (but i mean, the lead up to it was very good) and i could’ve done with more scenes with the whole gang (it seemed like there was a lot of times where it was lupin jigen and fujiko or lupin goemon and fujiko, but not enough of all of them together)

From Siberia With Love (7) 

The usual amount of humour and action from a Lupin III film and the art is pretty standard. Goemon got a few nice quotes in and Fujiko talked to a woman. Could’ve done without Rasputin but thats just me.

Elusiveness of the Fog (7)

Lupin offering Goemon to the princess was kinda funny and I actually really liked OG Mamo (not the short freak) being revitilized bc his episode in the original series was really entertaining. The history of where they were was a little wonky but I’ll give it to them this time.

Pilot Film (7)

That shit was wild i liked how jigen was introduced as the gunman and then beat the shit out of 3 police officers with his bare hands. also goemon i guess dedicates his life to killing lupin so thats fun, like he’s on zenigata’s side i guess. could’ve done with fujiko making an expression at any given time but yknow what? it was funny and it was only 12 minutes long

Another Page (7)

Surprisingly not that bad. To summarize the film as a whole I’d say: it could have been worse. The plot made sense which is more than i can say about most lupin movies and they stuck to two subplots that were both interesting and meshed pretty good by the end. And the two lady characters that got introduced didn’t betray anybody AND didn’t die.

Farewell to Nostradamus (6.5)

The animation was pretty good and I liked the whole ‘we gotta protect this kid’ thing but I always mix up this one and Bye Bye Liberty Crisis like this movie is it’s less interesting twin. Both of them have kids they need to protect but Bye Bye Liberty Crisis was just better. I feel like this one had a really good ending but aside from that the movie wasn’t that memorable for me.

Fuma Conspiracy (6.5)

i liked Goemon being in a relationship bc it was really sweet, i just wish there wouldve been a better balance of romance to plot. Also terrible voice actors but that just affected my enjoyment not really the plot or anything relevant.

Sweet Lost Night (6)

I like time shenanigans and my only two critiques are the inconsistent art quality and they seemed really hesitant to embrace time skipping. Like “he’s limited to twice before he becomes brain dead” was a little bit of a small window. If anything they missed out on a good opportunity for a classic lupin montage of him time skipping way too often. Maybe if they changed it to “you skip time every 12 hours, to every 6 hours, to every 3 hours, etc” until he stops existing?? like that seems more in line with a lupin plot not to mention a little more suspenseful.

Dead or Alive (6)

The new art style is kind of neat and didn’t really affect the personality of the characters like I thought it would. The plot itself was complicated and hard to follow but I mean, it wasn’t awful. Nothing I really hated and nothing I loved.

Jigen Daisuke’s Gravestone (6)

Handsome Jigen was cool but tcm i’m begging you to drink your Respect Women Juice. Also Goemon wasn’t in this one what the fuck was up with that. Lupin looked like a crispy toenail in the new art style but again the animation is gucci so I can’t really complain on that front.

Napoleon's Dictionary (6)

Reminded me a lot of Mamo except with more respect in women. Just kidding Fujiko was kind of a crapshoot in the end and the ending was more or less just. cut off?? like they crashed into the ocean after lupin ruined zenigatas marriage and the credits started rolling. it was weird bc it had a lot going but i guess they ran out of time for a proper ending?

Mystery of Mamo (6)

Respect Women Juice needed and also why was Goemon purple. The pros to this movie was the overall aesthetic being really attractive BUT the plot was sketchy and didn’t make a lot of sense. The only remarkable scene I remember is Jigen shooting the can by Lupin’s feet like I wish that emotion would’ve carried through the film and not ended there.

Red vs Green (5)

Really good animation, no fucking idea what happened in this film.

Walther P-38: Island of Assassins (5)

They missed an opportunity to be a little more psychological and the lady of the week dying was meh but I will say the plot stayed on course like they didnt try to do too much at once like they tend to do. I wish they would’ve delved more into lupin’s past with the doctor because that seemed kind of random but the more lethal, edgy plot was handled decently. I’ll probably forget this one in a week tbh.

Dragon of Doom (5)

I like learning more about Goemon but his girlfriend was really distracting and uneccessary. Like, if you want to introduce Goemon’s childhood friend sure its whatever but she only showed up to either threaten lupin or flirt with Goemon. And it was very obvious she was going to betray him so all her build up was pointless. I will say though, the plot was pretty cool which was surprising.

Voyage to Danger (4)

tcm I’m begging you to let Jigen talk to a woman and not have it be like ‘this is Jigens girlfriend now’. Sometimes women be talking and they aren’t thirsting for a man triple their age. It just be like that sometimes. Thats literally all I remember about this film.

First Contact (4)

I remember being excited for this like ‘oh wow their first ever meeting’ and i s2g this film was boring. And also a giant plothole. With no real redeeming qualities. I don’t even remember the animation being that good.

Columbus Files (4)

This film was at least funny bad but my hand to god I’d never watch it again. This is the first time I’ve ever watched a movie and had to watch the dub bc the sub was boring me to death. It was just... so bad... Especially when you’ve seen Wings of Death like this ain’t the Fujiko I know please leave.

Seven Days Rhapsody (3)

The comedy in this one was so weirdly incorporated and featured another really good ‘here’s Jigen’s dead girlfriend’ that i just could not care less about and then finished off with this what like 13 year old girl asking to be Lupin’s girlfriend? fuck outta here. The ONLY good part was Goemon slapping Lupin across the face.

Alcatraz Connection (2.5)

Really, really boring. The content wasn’t necessarily bad but they had 4 subplots going on that were equally uninteresting and some scenes went on for so so so long. It deadass took me 5 hours to watch this movie bc i kept pausing to do literally anything else. The art was unpleasant and by the time they got the treasure i didn’t really care anymore. Not to mention the plot was way too complicated and tin-foil hat for my liking.

Missed by a Dollar (2.5)

Made very little sense and in general was really annoying. Between Goemon being a born again Christian and the plot briefly derailing so Lupin could establish an oil company it was like can we pick something to focus on? By the end of the movie I was like wait when did they get the broach? What does the broach do again? And then he gives it to someone random and its like??

Gold of Babylon (2)

This one if the definition of being cursed and Pink Jacket deserved so much better than this nonsense. Like Lupin III isn’t known for its coherence, sure, but this movie had absolutely no structure. Upon finishing the film I was trying to remember anything that just happened and my brain refused. It kept the good cartoonish animation but god at what cost.

Angel Tactics (2)

TCM PLEASE DRINK YOUR RESPECT WOMEN JUICE. The art was just. Stunningly bad. Bad to the degree where about a minute thirty in I already regretted starting it. Not to mention the classic “we don’t actually wanna draw this part so we’re gonna jam cgi in here”. Also the most awkward use of “hey heres 3 women hey heres 3 men lets shove them together”.

Harimao’s Treasure (2)

nazis and transphobia which was extremely unfortunate considering the opening was actually one of the stronger ones I’ve seen from Lupin but immediately after the villain was introduced the quality of the film dropped about 90% and i wanted to die for the entire last half of the film. if they had changed the villain it would’ve solved 90 of their problems.

Twilight Gemini (2)

this was one of the only films in the entire lupin series where i was rooting for lupin to fucking perish. not only was goemon only in this film for 26 seconds, jigen was there for about 30 seconds and im not entirely sure if fujiko was there at all. not to be that guy but when they make lupin to be the most intolerable piece of shit in the world for this movie, don’t give him all the screen time. having to stare at this asshole for an hour and a half was exhausting.

Princess of the Breeze (2)

How a movie where Jigen has to carry a baby around in one of those funny baby-carriers turned out this fucking goddawful I have no explanation for. This movie was like an AU where all these other characters no one cares about happen to exist in the same universe as lupin. and when lupin does show up, i want him dead. Just horrifically boring and lazy art mixed with bad cgi. The only upside is that it isn’t Return of the Magician.

Return of the Magician (1)

I’m giving it a 1 on the principle that this wasn’t even a movie. It was a little less than an hour long and my god i’ve never seen a film so full of pad-time that if i can be so bold, there was more pad time than plot. What little plot they had made absolutely no sense and the art used cgi in the most bizarre and ugly ways. i’m pretty sure the credits played twice at the end. if there was a world record for lowest budget in a film, Return of the Magician would win hands down.

[i-just-love-writing-crap]

Catching Murphy, Part 2

Warnings: Swearing, possible nsfw content Word Count: About 2219 Summary: You, Miss (y/n) (y/l/n), had a crush on Connor Murphy for years, from a distance of course. You had always been too shy to approach him, and the fact around school that he was an aggressive stoner caused you to become even more shy. One day, in history class, your teacher decided to assign a project and assigned everyone a partner—you and Connor were partnered together. Could you two grow close during the project and remain close? Or will Connor go back to ignoring you after the project comes to a close? A/N: I apologize if Connor is a biiiiit OOC… ;-; Obviously takes place in an AU where Connor is alive Masterlist Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

When you arrived at the Murphy residence, your breath immediately left your lungs. You had never thought you could have ever gotten this far. And never had you thought that your love of Ancient Egyptian history would get the guy you had crushed on for years to notice you. Just this whole situation was incredibly weird—first Mr. Boulden partnered you and Connor up, then you are being brought over to Connor’s house. Not to mention Connor had, before you apparently interested him, told you he wouldn’t let you go to his house. You were lost in thought and you didn’t hear Connor calling your name from next to you.

“…ello!? FUCKING HELLO!!” Connor screamed into your ear.

Immediately, you covered your ears and answered, “Ouch! My fucking ears! WHAT, Connor?! WHAT IS IT!!?”

“Get the fuck out of my car, we’re at my house.”

“Fine. You had to scream in my ear, why?” you asked as you got out of his truck.

Crossing his arms, he answered, “Because you didn’t fucking answer me when I said it the first ten damn times.”

You huffed and retorted, “You could’ve done anything that wasn’t screaming in my ear, Connor.”

“Are you going to sit in my truck in the heat or do you wanna come the fuck inside?”

“Do you have food?”

“Oh my fucking God, yes, we have food for your fat-ass,” he grumbled.

“I’m not fat, Connor. I have some flab, but I’m not a fat-ass. Also, I thought you brought me to your house so you could help with the history project, not insult me and ridicule me when I want food,” you said.

Connor walked into his house, demanding you follow him, “Just come the fuck inside.”

“Fine,” you snapped and followed him inside. Oh God, I’m snapping at Connor fucking Murphy… I’m a deadman, you thought to yourself. “Now, can I have some food?”

Zoe walked through the den and said, “You can make yourself some food, (y/n), because Connor won’t make you shit. If you know how to cook with a stove, we have some noddles you can cook. Pans are under the sink.”

You smiled at Zoe and thanked her, “Thank you, Zoe… is it really okay?”

She looked at you, then to her brother, then back at you. “Yeah, it’s fine. Like I said, Connor won’t make you anything, so you might as well make yourself something.”

“Zoe, go fucking do something that’s not talking to (y/n). She’s here to work on a project,” Connor sneered at his sister.

You looked at Connor and crossed your arms. “That’s no way to talk to your sister, Connor,” you told him.

“And what do you know? You barely even know me or my family? All your here for is a fucking project,” he snapped.

That kind of hurt you. He had seemed so interested earlier at school, what had caused him to do a complete 180? You bit your lip and turned away from him. Speaking of what happened, what happened to you? Not even 24 hours ago you never would have even thought about talking to Connor Murphy, let alone the way you were talking to him now. “You know what, Connor Murphy—you are so confusing! You seemed soooo fucking interested in what I was saying at school and then the moment we are out of school, you act like we didn’t have a rather interesting interaction. Are you actually interested in helping me out with this fucking project or am I just going to have to do the whole damn thing by myself?! Because if you’re going to act like this, I would much rather you take my fat-ass home so I can do this myself!!”

Zoe rolled her eyes and left with a, “Keep your girlfriend calm, Connor.” Did she completely tune out what you had just said?

“I-I’m not his g-girlfriend, Zoe!!” you yelled, voice breaking in embarrassment.

“Yeah, okay. Sure, (y/n). He never brings a girl home and here you are, a girl, and he brought you home,” she said with a grin.

You blushed and stammered, “N-n-no! That’s crap! I’m just fucking here for a stupid project that I might as well do myself!”

As soon as Zoe left the room, Connor seemed immediately relieved. He even sighed, adding to the fact that he was relieved. “Geez, I thought she would never leave,” he said.

“Why does it matter?” you asked. “Anyways, are you going to fix me food or not?”

Connor sighed, “I can fix your dumbass some food.”

You bowed ironically as you said, “Thank you, Sir Connor.”

Connor had fixed you some simple mac and cheese, not that you were complaining, his mac & cheese was surprisingly delicious. You were half-way through your bowl of food when Connor asked you, “So, continue from where you fucking left off today.”

“Right now?” you asked with food in your mouth. You were completely taken by surprise by his words.

He looked at you for a moment, with a spoon hanging in your mouth and eyes looking up from your bowl, and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, right now. What do you have planned for our project.”

THERE HE GOES BEING INTERESTED AGAIN, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

You swallowed the food in your mouth and cleared your throat. “I, umm, well, I was thinking more of Akhenaten. The more I was thinking of him, the more I decided we could cover his family’s heresy,” you said.

“Who and what?”

“Pharaoh Akhenaten, born Ahmenhotep IV, was the head of religious upheaval that turned Ancient Egypt on its head. He went from worshipping the plethora of Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses to just one god—Aten, the solar deity. Akhenaten’s whole family were a bunch of raging weirdos, though, so it wasn’t just him who was the special one of the bunch! Thutmose III, the bastard that tried to erase Hatshepsut from history, was the Heretic King’s great-great-grandfather—so yeah, great family already. Now, I’m not saying all of Akhenaten’s family was as fucked up as Thutmose III, but his great-grandfather, Amenhotep II began some religious shit. The same religious shit that spiraled out of control and ended with Akhenaten’s Amarna Period. Amenhotep II decided to build a fucking temple to the Sphinx of Giza and be crowned ruler of Heliopolis instead of Thebes, which started everything! And when I say everything, Connor, I mean everything! So, after this slight deviation, for the next three pharaohs, the religious deviation continued until Akhenaten decided to flip EVERYTHING!!”

There you went again, you got so animated when you talked about Ancient Egyptian history. And Connor noticed it and it caused him to smile a tad bit. He tried to focus on what you were saying, and he half did, but he was more focused on the way your eyes lit up as you shared your knowledge. He noticed how you abandoned the mac & cheese as you fidgeted with the spoon, like you were tying not to leave a single detail out. “Mhmm… cool, what happened?” he asked, waiting to see how animated you could get.

Of course, you did not disappoint. “Oh my Osiris!! Everything happened!! Akhenaten’s family slowly deviated from the Theben religion and shit! Ooh! I can’t even get into it! It wasn’t like Aten was some god that Akhenaten decided to make up just to fuck with the polytheistic religion of Egypt, no! He can’t take that credit! Aten had his own little cult back then,” you laughed. You noticed Connor’s eyes on you harden as you said cult. “N-no! Cults back then weren’t negative in the slightest, so don’t take it like that, C-Connor. Cults in the ancient past were kinda like the different secs of modern religions, like Baptists and Catholics of Christianity. So, yeah, Aten was a lesser god who had his own cult. The priesthood of Amun, the de-facto chief of gods, had grown large and almost out of control. They literally owned more land than even the fucking pharaoh did! Like, what the fuck? How the hell could they get that much fucking land without the pharaohs before Akhenaten noticing. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back and it was one of the reasons that moron tried converting the whole of Ancient Egypt from polytheism to monotheism.” The spark in your eyes was enough to start a fire and you spoke with so much passion that it was almost suffocating. You took a spoonful of mac & cheese and stuffed it in your mouth, saying, “It was better when we were all fucking pagans.”

The way Connor was looking at you had you thrown for a loop. It was like you were the center of the world for a small amount of time. Taking a few moments to absorb what you had said, he spoke, “Oh really? And why were things better when we were all pagans, (y/n)?”

Scoffing, you answered, “Because when we were all pagans, we focused on fucking peace and harmony! None of this oh let’s go conquer this land in the name of God/Allah/our own selfish bullshit reasons! NO! When we were pagans, we only fought when we wanted to expand our land or settle something with another kingdom.”

“Ah,” he answered. Connor honestly didn’t know nearly half of what you were telling him. Everything you said was new information to him and it honestly made him lowkey smile about it. He had never really met anyone who could speak to him as freely as you did, or snap at him like you did for that matter, and it made him feel like he wasn’t just some druggie who people avoided. Connor Murphy actually felt grateful to that “old man” that was Mr. Boulden for partnering him up with such an interesting person. Never once had he thought that he could have been paired up with someone as interesting as you. “What makes you think that pagans didn’t go to war for stupid reasons, (y/n/n)?” he asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Boy,” you deadpanned, “you’re kidding me? A core idea in any monotheistic belief system is the encouragement of the belief that, in order for it to be right, other systems must necessarily be wrong. It is because of that stupid insistence on being the sole administrator of ultimate truth leads to intolerance of other beliefs and their suppression. That is why pagans are seen to be unholy and blasphemous, because of that damn central idea of monotheistic belief systems! Ugh!! It’s infuriating that a religion that promotes peace and harmony is considered unholy because some moron created a serious monotheistic religion.”

Connor chuckled in amusement, “You don’t seem to like monotheism, do ya, (y/n)?”

You laughed at his comment, “What gave you that idea? Now, don’t peg me as an atheist, because I’m not, I’m more agnostic than anything. And I don’t dismiss anyone’s religious views because umm, no, that’s fucking rude.”

“That’s good to know, I guess. Miss Agnostic,” Connor quipped.

“Oh, aren’t you just too funny, Mister Loner,” you quipped back.

“Ahaha… you’re hilarious, my spleen may burst.”

“Aww, thanks, Con.” Connor blinked at that name. You noticed what you had said and stammered, trying to fix your mistake, “C-Connor! I meant to say Connor, but it came out too soon! M-my brain… my mouth… my something wasn’t keeping up with everything else! I-I’m sorry!”

He chuckled softly at your cute stammering and said with a shrug, “You can call me that, (y/n). I can call you (y/n/n), you can call me Con. Anyways, we should probably get to work on the project. I like whatever your doing with the whole Heretic King thing, so let’s do that. But, you seem to know fucking everything there is to know about that shit, so you probably don’t need my help.”

You looked at him and smiled. “I might not need any help with research and shit, Con, but having some company while I do the project would be nice. If you can handle being around me for two to three weeks,” you answered.

“I can’t see that fucking killing me, (y/n/n),” he said, a smile could be heard in his tone.

Smiling, you continued to eat. “Okay, coo. We can get started once I’m done with my food. Sound good to you, Con?” you asked with a smile.

“Yeah, sure. I did make you the food, I fucking expect you to eat all of it, dammit!”

“I’m working on it,” you laughed.

TAGS: @saturdayschilddrivesmewild you told me to tag you and here you go bby ;)

Also, I’ll be gone for the next few days on a vacay with my family, so you won’t really hear from me from today, the 23rd, until Wednesday the 26th! I’ll be working on some stuff while I’m gone and I may upload some stuff, but not as frequent as I upload usually! I just wanted to get this out since the thought is fresh~! Hopefully I’ll have something cutesy with Michael to upload at some point in the next few days!

[turnt-pages-blog]

Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman

"Sometimes you do things you regret, but there's nothing you can do about them. Times change. Doors close behind you. You move on."

Synopsis:  A collection of short stories written by Neil Gaiman about everything from an old  woman buying the Holy Grail at a thrift store to a re-imagining of the classic tale of Snow White.

Rating: 10/10 

Read If You Liked:  American Gods by Neil Gaiman, Wilderness Lessons by Margaret Atwood

My Opinion: 

*I’ll post this as a read more so not everyone has to suffer through my lengthy ramblings! 

So, this was my first time reading any of Neil Gaiman's short stories and, although I read The Ocean at the End of the Lane and loved it, I didn't know quite what to expect. I'm a bit nervous about taking  the leap into the wild universes of Gaiman's larger novels, because I just don't have the time to devote to them properly, so I figured his short stories was a good place to start. I have to say, I am so glad I decided to do this and will soon be trying to read anything of his I can get my hands on! When reviewing anthologies or collections of stories, I usually have something to say about almost every entry so I like to talk about each one individually. Meaning, this will be rather long but feel free to skip around!

Also, at the beginning of the novel, Gaiman wrote a little background information on each story which I read after I finished each one. You'll see later in the reviews how this affected my understanding of them.

"Chivalry" - Chivalry is a story about an old woman buying the Holy Grail at a thrift store. This story really started off the book strongly and made me immediately realize that I was going to thoroughly enjoy this collection. It was so sweet, a story you'd read if you wanted a warm, fuzzy feeling afterwards. The two completely different characters and their unlikely friendship was done in a way that was familiar but not cliched. The end actually left me in a bit of a melancholic mood, but not in a bad way. In the way that you know something has to end, but you're still going to miss it.

Throughout the book there were multiple 1-2 page stories and most of them didn't leave much (if any) of an impression on me. "Nicholas Was" was too short for me to feel any connection at all to it, "Virus" felt like it was written by a crotchety elderly person complaining about kids and technology these days, and "Daughter of Owls" and "Cold Colors" were so deep in verse and old language that they were very hard to understand.

"The Price" & "Troll Bridge" - Both of these stories were nice (and well-written, of course) but really had no effect on me either way. "Troll Bridge" had a little too much fantasy and folklore for my taste and made it difficult for me to fully enjoy it. I liked "The Price" a lot more but I always find animal stories a bit sappy and tend to avoid them. They were nice, and that's all I can really say about them!

Other 1-2 page stories like "Don't Ask Jack," "The Sweeper of Dreams," and "Babycakes" had enough detail and depth to get under my skin, but I wanted more! I love short stories, but there is such a thing in my mind as too short.

"The Goldfish Pool and Other Stories" - I loved this story, it's one of my favorites in the book! I love old Hollywood and the era of the birth of cinema, which is what this story kind of centers around. The characters were also fantastic. Pious, one of the main characters, reminded me of William from the TV show This Is Us which made me love him even more! The whole atmosphere this story had had a timeless, magical quality to it and it will stick with me for quite a while.

"The White Road" & "Queen of Knives" - So, apparently these stories are two parts of a triptych but I don't personally see the connection between them. "Queen of Knives" was good, a mysterious and unsettling story revolving around disappearances and magic, but "The White Road" is clearly superior. I think it may be one of my favorite short stories that I've ever read. It was creepy, disturbing, had a Hans Christian Andersen-style fantasy element, and a twist I didn't see coming at all. I loved everything about it!

"Changes" - This story gave a unique sci-fi twist to the process of sex changes, the cultures they involve, and the lives of those affected by them. I couldn't personally connect to it but I really appreciate the unique take on the subject.

"Shoggoth's Old Peculiar" & "Looking for the Girl" - If you want the intoxicating feeling of chasing after something frustratingly elusive, then these two stories are for you! Unfortunately, I was not in the market for this feeling. I wish I was better acquainted with H.G. Well's work, because then I think I could've enjoyed the mist-filled world of "Shoggoth's Old Peculiar" a lot more than I did since it largely focused on his stories and the monsters within them. "Looking for the Girl" has a completely different setting with a gritty 1970's feel to it that gets under your skin. This story made me feel weirdly dirty after reading it, though it wasn't because of the subject matter despite it being about a porn star.

"Only the End of the World Again" & "Bay Wolf" - I really liked both of these stories, but I totally didn't realize they were connected until I read Gaiman's background information on them. (Of course now it seems painfully obvious...) Even without that knowledge, I loved the concept of a werewolf detective. I actually preferred "Only the End of the World Again" because it had this dark noir atmosphere to it that really added nicely to the story. They were both a little hard to follow at times though.

"We Can Get Them for You Wholesale" - I thought the concept for this piece was so interesting, the idea that someone would purchase literally anything if it was on sale. Honestly, I know some people like this! It was very unsettling and the open-ending only added to this feeling. It makes you wonder how far you'd be willing to go if there were no repercussions to your actions.

"One Life, Furnished in Early Moorcock" - This one had a lot of fantasy talk in it and, as I'm sure you're all sick of hearing me say, fantasy is a difficult genre for me to digest. I was far more interested in the dark backstory of the piece of the boys' life at boarding school. Though, I think the backstory of normalized abuse is made even more disturbing and effective by the way it's simply passed over and barely mentioned.

"Foreign Parts" - The fear of STD's is not as strong as it was 20 years ago, but I think this story could bring it back! It was grotesque in its details and, though not one of my favorites, I've found myself thinking about it long after I've finished the book. Strangely enough, it ended on a rather positive note which is not what I was expecting at all. While I appreciate the unexpected turn it took, I do wish it was a little scarier.

"Mouse" - This was another story that gave me feelings which I couldn't easily describe, nor whose sources I could easily identify. Everything about this story, though not exceptionally disturbing or dark, was pretty depressing. The botched abortion, the clearly cheating husband, and the grey, heavy atmosphere throughout all added to this. In the end, it gives you a rather empty feeling inside.

"When We Went to See the End of the World by Dawnie Morningside, age 11 1/4" - This is another example of a story in which the underlying action was much more powerful and interesting than the primary action. The end of the world seemed like a beautiful and terrifying place, but what really bothered me and stuck with me was the parents' abusive, toxic relationship. Gaiman did a great job of making it sound like it was really written by an 11 year old though.

"Tastings" - Honestly, I couldn't read this story in public because I was blushing too much! In his background information, Gaiman claimed that he didn't find it erotic, but I think I disagree. As embarrassingly blunt it was, I do love the idea of sex-related "superpowers" - like in the graphic novel, Sex Criminals - which I think is an incredibly underutilized concept.

"Murder Mysteries" - The universe created in this story was so beautiful and intricate, I couldn't believe it was only 33 pages long. I wanted to step inside it a completely immerse myself in that world. Being a Catholic, I loved seeing different perspectives and theories about stories I've been hearing my whole life.

"Snow, Glass, Apples" - This was one of the best fairy tale retellings I've read recently. Re-imagining the villain as being simply misunderstood isn't exactly groundbreaking, but the detail Gaiman put into it and the character he made Snow White into is what really sets the story apart. It made me wonder how this couldn't be the original tale all along because it all fits together so perfectly.

Clearly, I really loved this book and even the stories that weren't my favorites were fantastically written. I knew Gaiman was a popular and experienced author, but I never truly realized how good he actually was until I read this book. I highly recommend it, no matter if you're just now getting into his work or if you've been a fan of his for years.

[captainmvf]

The Golden Days Are Over- Part II (Chapter 2)

Part II Summary: The story of Carta Faber starts with the story of Ti Gold and how she perished in the early eighties with her partner, Ob Gold. But why is there a shroud of darkness over the fifteen robots and why did the actions of one purple gal trigger all of this bloodshed?

Chapter 2 Summary:

Ti Gold learns a few new feelings and separates from Ob Gold. Soon, it's the best day of their life. 

It's finally here! I've been busy with schoolwork and have been working on this chapter little by little but haven't found anything in my brain to write. I'll make sure the next chapter is written fast but hopefully I'll be working on my final.

Read it on AO3--> (x)

Ti Gold learned what hate was.

When a young child accidently dropped their vanilla ice cream on her midnight satin pants she was slightly annoyed but laughed it off as a childish antic. As the manager to the restaurant complained about her and Ob Gold in front of the duo she grew to dislike him greatly for his negative attitude and ugly appearance. But when Delilah ever walked into her view, heavily violet colored form smirking at her or someone else from afar, the air in the room grew heavy and thick with discomfort.

Ob Gold would either give her partner a disapproving look or a sharp cough whenever she saw Ti Gold stare hard at the security guard. She couldn’t see anything wrong at all from her viewpoint but there was always something or other that made her partner freeze up and emit a rumbling within their chest.

It soon became apparent to Ti Gold that Ob Gold had a flawed processor and that there was a growing rift between the two. After each performance on stage she found that Ob Gold didn’t want to bring up an actual topic of discussion.

The taller robot would look at Ob Gold, “Today was a great performance.”

Ob Gold would nod before looking away, “It was.”

“Let’s have a blast tomorrow.”

They would then not talk to each other for at least twelve hours.

Soon the staff then noticed more disturbances offstage whenever closing hours were in effect. Pots and pans would be spread in odd places in the kitchen, supplies would be jumbled together in the Janitor’s closet, stage lights and props would be pushed towards the middle of the stage almost like a dividing line, and more children’s drawings would appear on the wall albeit a bit darker or heavier than the other pieces. This was first pushed aside as just a weird coincidence by the staff but as this continued over the weeks they then decided that this could no longer stay unsolved.

A team was decided to deal with this one Thursday night as they were told to hide out around in staff-only chambers until they felt a disturbance after hours. On this such team was one of the previous mechanics that had helped set up the two golden animatronics, a begrudging Christian, and the manager himself.

They had to wait two whole hours after closing until Christian saw the tall figure of Ti Gold walk past.

He dared to not move as the tall robot sauntered past the boiler closet. Ti Gold’s eyes were lowered to a dim setting that made the lights on her face appear as pinpricks. Her front was shaded and hard to make out with the drowsy lighting. She moved slowly as she made her way towards the back of the restaurant.

Christian peered slightly out of the door and watched as Ti Gold’s large form faded into the darkness.

On the other side of the restaurant, the manager was hidden in a corner that was hardly accessible to the daytime patrons. He watched as Ob Gold walked calmly from the stage area and towards the kitchen. The lights in her eyes were off and she had the appearance of a ghost in the pale lighting.

An idea came to him as soon as she disappeared from sight behind the pane glass windows that were grafted onto the kitchen doors.

Friday morning, he stormed into the dinner with a mechanic that was new to both robots. He found both ready to start the day on stage, each with a dark expression on their fake faces.

“There will be no more nightly wanderings from the two of you,” he announced. “Following Amelia’s shock I should have impounded the two of you back onto your places but no, I was too lenient.”

Ti Gold squinted in his direction.

“Allow me to introduce your new babysitter, the night guard, Ethan,” he then gestured to the man that came in with him. Ethan gave a little wave.

Ob Gold looked at Ethan and gave him a warm smile, “Hello.”

Ti Gold turned her back out of spite but wished she wouldn’t appear so mean in front of someone new.

“You are to remain on stage for the rest of the night or you will be revoked your daytime privileges for the following day. Are we understood?”

Ob Gold nodded but it took Ti Gold a few moments to struggle out a ‘yes sir’ before going back to adjusting her microphone.

Ethan followed the manager out.

Once the doors slammed shut behind them, the long-haired robot turned angrily to her partner, “This is all your fault.”

“Me?” Ti Gold barked out a snobbish laugh that she had learned from Delilah. “I only went out to check security but I somehow managed to scare one of the guards! How did I cause this?”

“If you hadn’t been so obsessed with Delilah then you wouldn’t have gone off the deep end!”

Ti Gold swiftly turned to face her partner, “Oh so we’re back to discussing about how I’m crazy and Delilah is a saint? I know what I saw! I had security programming running in my systems when I gazed at her!”

“Bullshit!” Ob Gold emitted a swear and growled like Christian would when his engineering work went wrong. “I have seen her do nothing but good and yet you let some software that may be on the fritz judge your surroundings for you?”

“It’s working fine! I even saw a guy outside with long pants that was painted purple as well!”

“That proves nothing. We have a job to entertain the children during the day and nothing else. It’s time you got your head out of the crowd and back into the stage lights.”

The two didn’t speak for a full week.

Ethan did come in for his shift every night at twelve, just a few minutes after the rest of the staff left. He would sit in the office and watch the security feed every five-to-ten minutes to check for any movement.

The two instead who only ‘deactivate’ after each performance and only move and speak during performances. This was a childish display of playing dead to the manager but thankfully he would only nod in confirmation and mutter ‘just as machines are supposed to act’ before walking away.

Ethan grew lax as he saw that Ti and Ob Gold had given up on moving after hours and had quit trying to kill time for themselves. He started to barely even check the cameras, only the stage. A few times he would swear that he saw one flinch or look his way but the feed would go out and return before everything appeared normal.

Ti Gold hated being a statue. Ob Gold only put up with it because she was loyal to a fault.

Then one night, a most curious incident occurred.

It happened while Ethan was sound asleep in the office, snoring away in the faux leather chair. Both of the robots heard a tapping noise at the front entrance and a faint ‘tick’ before a rock smashed through the glass window.

Both jumped in alarm at the noise but Ethan only snoozed away as he laid at the other side of the building. A black-clad figure eased their way between the shards of glass before stepping onto the tiled floor, mindful of the smashed glass. Another figure, almost identical to the first, stepped through the smashed entry way and gestured to the security camera that was currently facing away from them.

The two then stealthily stuck close to the walls and hung in the darkened areas of the establishment.

They passed the curtained stage and one pointed to the other-

“Hey, Earl.”

“Shh!”

“Wanna try behind those curtains? It’s dark enough that even a regular camera won’t even take notice of us.”

“You forgot the term probably.”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“…if this fails, you’ll be the one paying bail this time.”

With a final nod to each other, the two made their way behind the curtains just as the camera’s view swiped over where they had entered from.

Both stood up from their spots on the polished wood and looked up in awe at the two unmoving robots. They knew that there would be performing machines but they wouldn’t have thought that the two would be so tall…or so unguarded.

The burglar known as ‘Earl’ quietly spoke, “How much money do you think we can pawn off for at least one of these?”

“They’re new,” Earl’s partner replied. “Also they’re on different technology as the others in that location down south.”

“Ohio?”

“No, that one’s just…different.”

“Supposing that they run on batteries or need charging, do you think we’d also need to steal their equipment?”

“Not really, with all the tech junkies around they’ll probably find some way to make it work for them.”

“We could get delicious money off of them, but we don’t have enough muscle power to take them both or just one of them.”

“You’re right, we came for the money and we’re going to leave with this branch’s savings. Let’s go.”

The two looked around before exiting backstage.

Once out of earshot, both Ti Gold and Ob Gold slowly turned their heads in the direction of where the suspicious two went off.

Ti Gold was the first to speak up, “We have to stop them.”

Ob Gold responded, “Yes, but let’s be rational. If Foreman finds out-“

“I don’t care about what the manager has to say,” Ti Gold glared. “He can go stick a couple of breadsticks up his ass.”

Her partner put her hands over her ears at the sharp language. Ob Gold had recently found out about the impact of saying ‘nasty’ words with Ti Gold but only the longer haired of the two decided to follow up with clean words.

She sent her partner a very unappetizing look before removing her hands from her ears, “We can’t let Ethan see us move around or we’ll get reported and reformatted.”

The word ‘reformatted’ was tossed at them a few days ago as a warning. Both robots then learned what a racing feeling in their air tubes and the combined power of their processors stalling was called.

Fear.

To put a robot under such a horrific experience was a sentence worse than death. It held the same meaning as brainwashing but with more lobotomizing towards the body, forcing the given robot to have a changed state of mind and to remove the basic functions that gave them personality. If each robot were given the same basic design, then each robot would be given the name of ‘Drone’ with a serial number that provided no expectations of what they were built for.

It meant that if the golden show business duo didn’t follow the man-versus-machine rules, then they would be put under the mechanic’s watchful gaze and sent out to look like a chipmunk and chop wood- forgotten forever.

…well, figuraly speaking.

Ti Gold clenched and unclenched their fists. She looked Ob Gold in the eye, “Fine, give me a plan.”

Ob Gold gave her a sly smile.

Down the hall the two burglars went as they easily made their way towards the back of the building to where Ethan was snoozing away the early hours, dreaming of the precious money his daddy will bestow upon him after completing yet another easy shift. Just two…or three more…hours left…

It was then that Earl had the terrible sensation of being watched. He looked up at the security camera closet to him as it stayed in place, never once blinking red to signal that the security guard was looking through it. The blonde shrugged it off and lead his cohort further towards the desk in the back.

“Hey, do you hear that?” the other burglar shook him out of his focus.

“It’s just the AC Tim, sometimes it whistles depending on the temperature,” Earl spat back.

“No dude, listen.”

The two stopped and Earl brushed the hair away from his right ear in order to pay close attention to whatever sounds were emanating within the building. It sounded like what you would expect from within the walls of a wood and cement one-story building built in the early eighties. There was the classic AC keeping the machinery cool and the humming of vents and fridges, the whirring of security cameras and the snores and sniffles of a tired guard, the dripping of a leaky pipe outside of the building and the howling winds of a hot summer night silently caressing the windows and bricks that decorated the outside.

Then there it was.

Softly, almost blending in with the background, were slow music notes. They weaved and danced around all the other noises and flowed as if it belonged there, a part of the melody that was Fazbear’s Diner. It was nearly unrecognizable without it.

The melody had a marching tune to it. Bearing the fact that the tune was being played by a music box made the song much more melodic, sad even. It was probably tear-jerking to some emotional moms or patriotic Europeans, but it didn’t have much of an impact on the two.

There was only that creepy feeling that music was not supposed to be playing after hours.

All other sounds were tuned out as a sinking feeling fell flat in the two’s stomachs, as if each had a depressed man rope their ankles together to a cinderblock and drowned themselves in the thieves’ stomach acids. There was the calming voice in the back of their heads telling them that someone might have accidently left one of the switches for the stage on before they left for the day.

“Let’s keep going,” Earl insisted and they turned towards the hallway, away from the cafeteria.

Both stopped dead in their tracks when they saw a neat, perfect, straight out of the plastic packaging party hat in the middle of the hall. The green, pink, and yellow stripes didn’t appear fun anymore but sicklier, disgusting, as if those colors should not be allowed to clash together.

Under the party hat’s view were words written in black paint.

‘ENGAGE THE PARTY HAT MOTHERFUCKER’

They each took a step back and looked at each other, not saying a word. The two had barely noticed that the music had stopped playing.

“Dude,” Tim spoke softly.

Earl shook his head at him, “Don’t. Say. It.”

“This is some Scooby Doo bullshit right here-“

“WHAT the fuck man!”

Despite the outburst from Earl’s end, Ethan didn’t not stir from his slumber. At this point, not even a large meteor from space breaking through the Earth’s atmosphere could wake up this young man.

They quickly turned back around, not willing to engage in any activity. The situation had taken a sour turn.

After reentering the cafeteria, the two were met with pitch blackness that made their eyes go blind. This was abnormal since the shutters on the windows let in just enough light from moonlight and the streetlamps to filter in but now it looked like someone had shut them, obscuring anyone from looking in or for light to be given to those who work afterhours.

Earl opened and closed his mouth but no sound came out.

They didn’t notice the two specks of white light peering out of the darkness right behind them.

Their attention instead was drawn to the backstage door as it slammed shut and proceeded to reopen very slowly. Both adults crept nearer to one another to make sure that this was really happening.

Another tune began to play, but this one was more sorrowful than the last. It swayed and waltzed across the two as the other noises in the building halted all actions to let it play. This was no march or fanfare but a slow and mysterious question like tune that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.

“All I ask of you…”

“What the hell? WHAT THE HELL?” Earl grabbed Tim and took a step back.

The two glowing specks towered above their shoulders and shone brighter, illuminating their backs. Time turned around and paled at the sight.

“Uhh…Earl?”

“WHAT?!”

Earl turned to look in Tim’s line of sight and saw the two glowing orbs.

Then at least ten more white lights appeared in two straight rows under the original two and slowly distanced themselves. Just like teeth.

The creature before them groaned and a high pitched noise escaped from its dark throat, making the two’s hair go white with fright. It leaned over them and the pitch increased as the music had gotten faster. Just as it was an inch away from their faces, it spoke.

“Run.”

That was when Earl and Tim booked it for the exit, screaming incoherently. Instead of exiting through the entrance that they made they accidently rushed into a funny mirror that was near the entry way. Earl’s nose started bleeding profusely as Tim actually managed to jump over the shattered glass and out into the parking lot but tripped on the landing. A minute later police cars rolled into the lot and trained their lights on the pitiful scene.

As soon as the two had started screaming, Ethan had been woken up momentarily and had hit the emergency call switch within the office to signal the authorities before drifting back to sleep. Good thing the nearest police station was just a few blocks away. By the way, this all was only an accident.

The crooks were detained and put into each a separate car as Ethan groggily made his way to the front of the building to check what all the hubbub was all about.

“What the…?” he rubbed one eye and yawned as an officer approached him.

“Son, can you tell me-“

“THAT PLACE IS HAUNTED!” Earl screamed, making the officer and Ethan turn to look at him. Earl had half-white half-blonde hair that was frayed and his eyes were wide and crazy, the blood kept on dripping from his left nostril.

As another officer put him into the squad car he fought to look at Ethan and screamed, “Get out while you can! There are demons that lurk in that building! I tell you!”

With one final push he was shoved and locked into the car. He banged on the window and shouted some more before the car rolled away, out of sight.

Ethan looked back at the deputy as he was about to spoke as another car rolled up.

“Ethan!” the booming voice of the manager made him flinch. “What in blazes is going on around here?!”

The guard raised his hands, “Well, sir-“

“Are you the owner of this establishment?” the deputy put himself in front of Ethan.

The manager blinked and looked up at the officer with his small eyes, “No, I’m the manager.”

The deputy tipped his hat, “Well, you see, your employee here raised the alarm and we were able to come just in the nick of time to arrest the two deviants who had trashed the entrance and were out to rob the place. You’ll have to fix your window but everything else seems to be in order.”

Ethan’s boss split into a wide, toothy smile and exclaimed, “Well then! Guess I gotta get the insurance company on the line and make sure the janitor shows up in the next hour so we can open tomorrow! Thank you, sherriff.”

“Deputy.”

“Whatever.” and the officer went back towards his car to where a quite Tim was holding his arm and staring at the floor of the car. He started up the car and pulled out of the lot.

The manager looked at Ethan, “My boy, looks like you have done splendidly tonight!”

“I have?” Ethan rubbed the back of his neck and blinked before coming to an understanding. “I have!”

“Yes sir-ee,” he grabbed Ethan’s back and led him inside. “I bet I can get you a promotion to head security guard, which means that, not only do you get a raise, shorter hours once we get someone else to fill in to be your fellow coworker.”

“Oh boy!” the two continued to chat towards the office before a faint scream could be heard.

“YOU WROTE THIS?”

Seconds later a party hat was thrown into the trash and burned along with its previous contents.

Meanwhile, behind the golden curtains of the stage, Ob and Ti Gold stood perfectly still as they heard what went on.

“Do you think I spelled ‘Motherfucker’ correctly?” Ti Gold whispered to her partner.

“Judging by our manager’s reaction I think you did a spot on job.” Ob Gold smiled.

The two then made snickering noises and bobbed their shoulders to make it look like they were laughing. Once the air was cleared of laughter the two looked at one another before looking away shamefully.

“They didn’t give us any credit,” Ob Gold stated sadly.

“They didn’t see us.”

“I was kind of hoping you would mess up and let them see your face.”

“That’s kind of hard,” Ti Gold turned to let Ob Gold see her face and she let the springlocks on her face unscrew to reveal her endoskeleton’s head. Her eyes were built a full inch away from the metal head and only the front was uncovered to allow light to travel away from her head.

“Now if I had lit my lights while my face was whole, then those two would have been able to know who was tormenting them.”

“What about the teeth trick? How did you cover your mouth when-“

Ti Gold redid the springlocks for the bottom part of her face to cover up her endoskeleton’s mouth.

“Oh.”

Ob Gold turned away as her partner redid the rest of the locks. There was silence between the two for a while.

Ti Gold finally spoke, “I think you’re right.”

The shorter one turned to her, “About what?”

Ti Gold turned away, “I am obsessive. I try to keep things in order and push you too far. Sometimes I’m able to take a step back and view what I’m doing but most of the time I’m just surging forward and just trying to prove to you that I’m right.”

She chanced a peek at Ob Gold and continued, “I’ve been hooked on Delilah. I know she’s not what she appears to be and that won’t stop me from trying to prove it. For the now, I’ve seen what we can accomplish together as a team. Being separate has turned us apart and made us get a babysitter to make sure we were behaving. I can’t stand it anymore.”

The taller turned fully to Ob Gold, “Can’t we be friends again?”

Ob Gold’s face was blank. A moment passed between them that felt all too long to Ti Gold.

Finally, Ob Gold took a step towards her, then another, and another, before throwing herself onto the taller to hug them.

Ti Gold was surprised but returned the hug steadily.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Ob Gold said with a smile in her voice.

Ti Gold also gave a smile, feeling something tug at her music box strings. The feeling was something new but almost familiar. She had seen parents kiss each other and teenagers in the crowd sit very close to one another to hold their hands in each other’s grasp. Kids didn’t really act the same way and nor did babies. A mother in the crowd would often kiss their crying child and hold them close or a father would help their offspring succeed at a hard videogame and help them carry their large prize back to the car.

Love.

She clung on tighter to Ob Gold, accepting the fact that she was growing up.

The next day they had decided to pull out the table from the backstage area that the employees use while working stage shifts onto the middle of the stage and were each sitting in a chair. Ob Gold had scourged up some papers and crayons while Ti Gold was reading an early edition newspaper that had been thrown through the open door as the insurance woman had walked in (the paper then proceed to hit Ethan squarely in the face).

The front cover read ‘Fazbear’s Diner Scoundrels!’ and featured both Earl and Tim as they told about their experience and the newspaper portrayed them as shady drug dealers and Ethan as he told a wildly unconvincing story of what he did to scare off the crooks.

“Garbage,” Ti Gold sneered as she turned the page to look at menswear. She whistled at the striped tuxes and orange pants.

Upon turning to the funnies she looked to her left at the third chair that they had moved. What sat in it was a large five-foot plushie of a sock monkey-esque figure with a black body and white rings around its arms and legs. There were five rings around the arms and nine for the legs. Its head was ovular and had profound red cheeks. Only the front half of the head was white as the rest of it was black like its body. The face had a wide black smile with red lip stains and happy squinted black eyes that had purple tear stains that poured out of the bottom and ended at the top of the mouth.

Ti Gold chuckled and patted the arm of it, “Cute.”

It belonged to the prize corner and was a very hard to win prize. Only kids with at least seven thousand tickets could pull off winning such a prize. Due to the complexity of the prize, only five were in stock and quickly gathering dust. Apparently it was a character from another location and wasn’t popular at Ti and Ob Gold’s home.

Ob Gold sat in the chair across from the newspaper reading robot and hummed as she drew a picture of Ethan in his office, sleeping, “I wonder why nobody would take such an adorable thing home.”

“Maybe the kids today might want to have a crack at it. I hear there’s going to be a birthday party soon.”

“Hopefully a few kids that bring lots of money will try to aim high. It would be sad to watch some gorgeous things continue to be locked away.”

A new window was installed in place of the smashed one from the previous night’s events with a grumbling manager who thought that the insurance woman was certainly scamming him. Ethan was given a new coworker named Eric who had recently applied to college and wanted a summer job before heading off for school.

Speaking of Ethan, now he told the same story he had sold to the local newspaper to all of the other employees, but now with more exaggerated actions.

Right at the moment there was a cluster of Stephan, Christian, Amelia, Delilah, Eric, two waiters, and someone from the kitchen. Amelia hung on to every word as if it were true as Delilah smiled and nodded along, believing only half of what was said. Stephan had a stony face and Christian was rolling his eyes in a good nature. Eric looked at his new boss questioningly as if trying to figure out Ethan’s IQ with just spending a few minutes with him as the rest of the staff tried to dodge all of the improve actions the guard threw at them.

“The blonde guy was all like ‘I’m going to shoot this guy with five lead bullets and make him drink his own piss’ but then I swung out and HOO! HAH! Right in the kisser! I make sure he goes right through that old window!”

“I thought the other guy was the one who went through the window?” Christian muttered to his fellow coworkers.

Thankfully the manager rounded the corner just in time to lecture them, “What are you doing? Ethan! Eric! Go home! Get some rest! Your job is over! The rest of you- get back to work!”

Very soon the day went back to normal. The birthday party posse wasn’t scheduled to arrive until five or six at night and would probably last until closing. Amelia had to fill in as a waitress for half the time due to the overcrowdness that was a Friday afternoon as Delilah went on extra rounds to circle around the cafeteria and the arcade as Stephan patrolled the halls to keep an eye on the staff and any wandering guests.

Ti Gold was busy sticking to routine but would always give a little extra when she had to reply or turn to Ob Gold. She couldn’t help but have a dreamier air when spouting song lyrics while looking at Ob Gold’s optics.

The shorter of the two would respond with equal enthusiasm and give a longer draw of breath while blinking towards the audience. Ti Gold assumed that this was because Ob Gold was glad to be with her again.

“Heartaches/”

“Ba ba boom/”

“Hear-ar-arta-aches/”

“Da va bum/”

“It doesn’t matter how my heart breaks/”

“Yea da vum/”

“’Cause my art aches for/”

Everything was going perfectly.

Ti Gold had never had a better day in her life. Ob Gold was beautiful, the music was fantastic, pizza was certainly delicious, and the building was overflowing with excited kids. If there was one thing missing then it would be the fact that Ti Gold would have wanted their long hair back, but that was not important.

Soon the birthday bash arrived and the two were busy prepping themselves for the special performance and for when they’d travel offstage to help the special kid with their cake and presents.

Once seated into their bright primary colored throne the birthday girl was given a cardboard crown that was painted yellow with golden hues with plastic gems that had been hotglued on. They clapped their hands in glee as the pizza arrived.

The lights in the cafeteria dimmed as the stage lights focused on the golden curtains.

“And now! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages! We like to introduce to you a special song from our golden duo!”

Gold curtains parted and there stood Ti Gold and Ob Gold with their signature mic and guitar. The shorter of the two slightly strummed their guitar and hummed a high note as Ti Gold stepped into the spot light.

“We gather here today to play a special tune for our birthday champ. Casey, please stand up!”

Casey giggled, clapped her hands again and stood up just in time for a stage light to fall on her so everyone in the crowd could see the birthday girl.

Ti Gold began to sway from side to side, “You’re turning another year old/”

Ob Gold came in as backup, “Another year has gone by/”

“Just in time for a new year/”

“For a new you/”

“Do you know what this means?/”

“We get to put a new candle on your cake/”

“We want you all to gather ‘round/”

“And sing away the sadness/”

“You don’t know what the new you has planned/”

“It’s best to wish you on your way/”

“As we get to see you grow~”

Five staff members from the kitchen rolled out a birthday cake from the freezer with seven candles already standing up straight and erect, ready for lit matches to light them up. Once the cake was put onto the table a larger candle was placed in the center of the handsome cake.

The staff lit the first seven before slowly lighting the large one, only for sparks to ignite from its tip and for the audience to gasp in amazement.

Colored lights appeared and swirled around the stage as everyone got ready to sing along to one of the most famous songs throughout the known universe.

Ti and Ob Gold were illuminated together as they sang in unison with the crowd.

“Happy birthday to you/ Happy birthday to you/ Happy birthday dear Casey/ Happy birthday to you~”

There were many applauses from the audience and from the party group itself as a few of Casey’s friends cheered for her and sang their own corny versions of the happy birthday song. Casey thought up of a wish before blowing out her candles as many family members around her took pictures of her with the flash on.

It was a controlled fireworks blitz in its own right.

Ti Gold and Ob Gold each took their bows as rehearsed as a few of the children shouted their stage names in approval.

“Titan! Obelisk! Titan! Obelisk!”

Just as the curtain closed over Ti Gold, she saw Casey smile up at her.

Ob Gold clapped her on the shoulder and smiled, “I think you did rather well.”

If Ti Gold could blush then her face would be beet red by now, “You think?”

Her partner nodded.

Stephan breathlessly walked up the backstage steps and took a minute to catch his breath and pant, “Al-alright. You guys need to get over th-there and w-wish that girl a happy birthday.”

The two took their leave, Ti Gold allowing Ob Gold to go ahead of her. Just as Ti Gold finished descending the staircase, she heard Stephan breathe, “Funny…I couldn’t find Delilah anywhere…”

She halted in place as her eyes widened in disbelief. Delilah was supposed to be the one to look over their performance and send for them today.

During the performance she was too caught up in the beauty of her partner and the joy that was Casey’s birthday bash. She didn’t see a flash of smooth black hair or dull purple while looking out across the crowd.

Maybe since the building was so packed she had been caught up in the arcade? There could have been a nasty fight that had broken out of one of the machines had been broken by a rowdy child- those could be excellent excuses. Perhaps she had to help Amelia with something?

No. Amelia was at the hostess desk and seemed to be fine. If her friend was in any trouble then Delilah would have stormed over and helped her, right?

That left one conclusion, and it made Ti Gold’s processor stall in fright.

“Ti?” Ob Gold’s worried tone sucked the top hated robot back to the present.

“Yes?” she looked down at her partner.

Ob Gold tilted her head, “We need to get out and visit the birthday girl, Casey.”

“Err- right!” Ti Gold tried to shrug it off and approached Ob Gold.

“Is everything all right?”

No.

Ti Gold tried to laugh it off, “Of course! I think I have a bug in my system though.”

That only caused her partner to worry more, “Oh no! Do we need to make our visit short or should Stephan take a look at you?”

Ti Gold put her hands up, “I’m fine, honest. Just need to check something out in the halls.”

That made Ob Gold’s concerned look turn into one of frustration.

“Tell me what’s wrong!”

The two stood there for a moment before Ti Gold spoke, “Trust me, let me go check in the hallways for a moment and I’ll meet you at Casey’s side.”

An air bubble gathered in one of Ob Gold’s tubes, “Go.”

She turned away and headed for the cafeteria, “Just go.”

Ti Gold waited until Ob Gold was out of earshot before scampering for the back halls.

The back halls were a place only for employees. There were rooms for lockers where the employees could stash their belongings for the day and even a few storage rooms where trusted employees put old props or equipment into hiding for a later use. Employees were trusted to keep their breaks secluded in the halls and thus one of the rooms had been put aside as a breakroom with tables, chairs, a television set, and a ‘borrowed’ coffeemaker. Someone with a sense of humor had put a pair of googly eyes on the coffeemaker and given it popsicle stick arms and legs.

The tall robot herself had been to the mysterious back ways during her night time wanderings. She did stop going to Parts and Services after the night she had accidently spooked Amelia. That night had not only warned her of Delilah but it also made her not want to scare any other human beings. Despite the escapades of earlier that week, she had taken an oath.

Today, everyone’s attention was on the amazing birthday party. No one had any doubts that the day was going to go sour or that anything was going to go wrong. Everyone would have a wonderful time. No one was going to cry. No one was going to get hurt. Any security guard would instantly rush to the trouble but Ti Gold was going straight for it before it would dare make a move.

After all, the safety of the children was their number one priority.

No human being could stand in the way of an angry Fazbear Entertainment robot.

She had just finished crossing the entrance hall when she came to a fork in the road. Ti Gold shut her optics to focus her attention of the sounds of the building. There was the great party happening only twenty feet away, where Ti Gold could easily rush too in three great strides if need be. Then there were the vents, pouring out bucket loads of fresh, cool air. The rush of pipes for cold and hot hot water for both the kitchen and the restrooms.

There!

Her optics snapped open at the sound of heavy feet rushing through the halls. She turned towards the left and followed the sound.

Only one kind of person made such careless step- a playful child!

“Hello?” Ti Gold called out. “Don’t be afraid, you’re not in trouble. I can take you back to the cafeteria.”

The kid only scampered further away.

Ti Gold rounded the corner and peeked out in time to see white legs with slip on shoes go out of sight. She frowned.

“Are you okay? It’s not safe to be back here.”

She decided to take a more cautious approach towards the little girl.

“Listen, there’s a birthday party going on and I’m performing. Would you like to come out and see it? There’s cake, a nice birthday girl who would love to meet you, and my good friend who’s also performing.”

The girl only scampered to Ti Gold’s left.

“Please don’t be afraid. My name is Titan, I’m one of the singers on stage, my good friend is Obelisk, she’s the other singer. We’re harmless.”

The steps disappeared.

Ti Gold also stopped to looked around, “Where did you go?”

The girl’s steps escaped behind her.

She instantly turned around in shock and exclaimed, “Wait! Are you sure you know where you are going?”

They only grew further and further away.

Ti Gold raced after them, “It’s okay! Look, you can call me Ti Gold. That’s my name backstage. Obelisk’s name is actually Ob Gold. We don’t mind getting to meet new children. You can come out and we can show you around.”

The girl escaped to Ti Gold’s left and headed further away from the cafeteria.

“You’re going the wrong way! If you want to get to the cafeteria and stage area then you should have made a right, I have to get back out there soon and introduce myself to the birthday girl.”

Soon she was by the back exit, a place for Ti Gold had never ventured out as far. The tall robot stopped and rubbed her wrists- a nervous habit she had picked up from Amelia.

“Listen, I haven’t gone this far in the building. Can we please head towards the front? I’m…”

Scared.

At this point in the building there were no sounds, no whirring of the security cameras, only a dull hum of what was going on near the front and a faint whoosh of the AC system as air gathered around her ankles. It gave Ti Gold the feeling of abandonment, of lonlieness.

She spoke out in a low voice, “Where did you go?”

There were faint steps behind her but she thought of it as only an employee. The steps then rushed at her at the same density as before and Ti Gold slowly turned around to meet the child she had been chasing.

WHAM

A massive force hit her face and she went toppling over on the floor. Ti Gold had never actually felt pain before, but as bit and pieces of her face flung off of her she gave a not-so subtle shriek that sounded like a fox getting its tail ripped off.

A few ends from her fingers also took a trip to the floor as they clinked against the shiny tiles and her ankles twisted, the wiring inside of them popping lose and rendering her feet useless. The right part of her jaw was unhinged and her nose was crooked, her whole face feeling like it was on fire.

“Well, well, well,” a sickly sweet voice was all that Ti Gold could make out as her optics stared up, trying to will the ceiling to stop spinning.

She blinked once before training her eyes in the direction of the voice.

“Christian’s drugged, he won’t be waking up anytime soon,” there was a grinding noise, as if something was being dragged against the polished floor.

A pointed face leered into Ti Gold’s view, “Looks like it’s just going to be us two for a while.”

Her optics adjusted and instantly she recognized Delilah’s gnarly face before her vision adjusted her image to be doused in purple. Was it just her or were Delilah’s teeth more yellow than before?

Delilah began gathering the bits of Ti Gold from the floor and put them into her front pocket before slinging a sledgehammer over her shoulder. She smirked, “This is going to be so much fun!”

Ti Gold began resetting her vocalizer since it had been jimmied from its place due to the crash. Her voice box could only produce static as it searched for a source to unscramble the signals from her processor.

The evil guard only laughed, “Trying to cry out for your girlfriend? Don’t worry, she’s just on the other side of the building.”

She stepped to the side and gestured for Ti Gold to stand up, “Well go on, she’s probably getting worried thinking about where you might be right now.”

Ti Gold couldn’t get up; her processor was scrambling for the commands for her legs to move or to just get out of there!

Delilah leaned back up against Ti Gold’s face, “Don’t wanna? Rather stay with me? That’s fine.”

She stood back up and went around to Ti Gold’s nonmoving legs to use her free hand in order to lift one of them and begin to drag her towards another section of the building.

“I have plans,” began Delilah. “You’re an essential part to them. I can’t afford for you to go heading off now before my plans can be complete.”

At this point, Ti Gold decided to squint one eye in Delilah’s direction and shrill louder than she had ever done before.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the Parts and Services room as Ti Gold’s leg was dropped and Delilah made to shut the doors.

Ti Gold was wracking her processor for a way out of this situation when Delilah peered at her face again, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

That was when her image flickered in and out of existence before reappearing as a deep purple monster with a sickening grin, black and purple eyes, sharp claws, and four extra appendages on her back.

This was the worst day of Ti Gold’s life.