#trying to just accept that most of our visits end in illness

[foldingfittedsheets]

Me: You’re wearing masks on the plane and in the airport, right? It’s very important to my parents that you mask.

FIL: Yeah, we’re very cautious.

This clarification happened three times where I emphasized they’d need to mask.

Me today after picking them up: And you guys masked on the plane right?

FIL: No, why would we?

Me: ….Because I specifically asked you to.

Turns out that his definition of cautious is putting on a mask if he hears coughing. When I said many diseases are transmissible before symptoms appear (like covid) he had the nerve to laugh at me.

I then reiterated that the condition of them staying at my parents rented house was that they mask on the plane. My step-MIL was outraged he hadn’t told that to her and a round of bickering ensued.

I suggested we get covid tests the day after tomorrow before the drive up to the house but I’m still fuming.

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[cambion-companion]

Inferna Victoria

Dining with the devil and having to answer for your breaking and entering...and sleeping with his personal incubus.

This was fun to write, most likely will follow it up with a part 2! But I needed to get this out of my system.

PLUS their banter is SO fun to write. I just love the way Raphael speaks.

Raphael x Reader | Victory dinner that was promised but we never got | OH he KNOWS about the Haarlep incident | light smut towards the end

“What an unexpected pleasure.”

You turned, the heels of your shoes sliding easily on the dark marble.  Your nose almost brushed against his, the scent of musk and cherries causing your head to spin for a moment before you could regather your senses.  From the tone of his greeting, there was nothing “unexpected” about your visit.

You raised a coy brow. “Do most devils not have a sense of personal space?”

Raphael didn’t return your smirk. His usually playful expression had become sharp almost tense. Warm whiskey eyes drank in your features, your face turned up as he towered over you, your chests almost touching.

When next he spoke, his lilting cadence had deepened into something akin to primal. A dark timbre sweetened by a fondness the cambion only seemed to harbor for you.

“You have served your purpose to the letter of our contract.  Why are you here?”

So enraptured were you by his hypnotic gaze you didn’t initially feel his hands skimming up the outside of your arms, tracing the curve of your body as they moved down to your hips.

Playful words spilled unbidden from your eager mouth. “You promised me a dinner.”  Your breath caught in your throat, taken aback by his soft touch before his fingers sharpened their grip on your soft flesh. “I came quite ready to partake.”

“So I gathered.”  Your ill-disguised flirtations clearly pleased Raphael.  With one hand remaining low at your waist, he guided you into the dining hall.  His heavy gaze continued to burn into you, try as you might to act oblivious.  You could practically feel the trails his eyes were scorching into every facet of your visage. “Always such an eager little thing. An excellent client and an even better co-conspirator.”

You snorted a laugh, watching him as he sank down languidly against a rather gaudy mahogany chair and stretched his long limbs, placing one booted foot atop the table. “You are pleased with my success, I take it?”

“I cannot sing your praises enough.”  Now Raphael smiled, easing the unexplained tension between you two as he picked idly at his nails. “The souls I tend to in my dungeon especially are regaled by the tale of your saving a world they can never return to.”

“Prolonging their suffering?”  You rolled your eyes, expecting nothing less, never forgetting his true nature. “How appropriate.”

“Enhancing.”  Raphael corrected, his foot shifting off the table as he rose to his feet and met your gaze squarely. “You are more familiar with me than most who enter my home, little hero.” The endearment rang with irony. “I am glad you came. However uninvited. Which…”  He tapped long fingers against polished wood, his smile gaining an edge. “Brings up a breach of contract I’ve wished to address after you won me the crown.” 

You felt a pit open in your stomach, knowing very well what Raphael was referring to. You opened your mouth to quickly defend yourself, but he interrupted, gesturing to the large table. “Sit.”

As you obeyed, sitting upon a plush seat and tensing as Raphael circled behind.  His large hands gripped the back of your chair, and you felt the stirrings of your hair beneath his breath. “If you wished me to entertain you in my Boudoir, you had but to ask nicely.”

“I…”  You had no excuse. “I apologize.”

“A sweet sentiment, but I do not accept it.”  Raphael’s presence shifted and he walked slowly to the grant mahogany seat opposite yours, taking a moment to look down upon you before he sat.

“Enlighten me as to the innerworkings of your mind.”  Raphael continued speaking slowly, his elegant brow arching imperiously. “What gives a small speck of a mortal the right to enter the home of a devil uninvited?”  He leaned forward, observing your silence with an air of condemnation. “Speak, ere I exact penance and take your leaden tongue for insolence.”

Your heart stuttered, this was not how you expected your victory dinner to go. “Gale was quite insistent we find a way into your home to, uh, destroy our contract.”

“Here I thought wizards had a modicum of intelligence.”  Raphael didn’t look pleased, nor did he appear as livid as you expected. He leaned back and gestured for you to continue.

“Upon entry, your house was a mess by the way, I had second thoughts.  Betraying your trust would pitch me into inevitable conflict with you…and I don’t want that.”

“Do go on.”  Raphael wore a smirk, halfway between mocking and amused. “You are at the cusp of this story’s climax.”

You felt the heat of the room intensify as your face flushed. “Yes, well…upon gaining entry to your room, your Boudoir, I met someone who gave me very little choice to walk away freely without giving something of myself first.”

“Thus, like a good mouse you wriggled and squeaked atop my bed before turning tail and running back to your little hole.” Raphael finished and nodded, seeming satisfied.

“I didn’t take anything…or disturb anything.”  You defended yourself.

“You took pleasure from my incubus.”  Like the changing tides, Raphael’s mood darkened yet again. He raised a finger and tilted his head. “Yet, you left something behind that balances the scales somewhat.”

“I’m not sure it balances the scales. They still seem quite tipped against my favor.”  You said, a little testily.

Raphael smiled shrewdly in response, his gaze drifting over your form. “I returned to my home to find Haarlep in your form, lounging naked in my pool.”

“Ah.”

“Indeed.”

You wracked your brains, trying to remember if you’d felt anything like the sensual tingle Haarlep had hinted at when he made love in your form. You hadn’t felt it yet…which meant Raphael hadn’t taken advantage of Haarlep’s conquest.  Yet.

“I am ever the gentleman.”  Raphael’s honeyed voice dripped irony, seeming to read your thoughts. “And in that vein, I indeed promised you a dinner to celebrate our victory.”

You rallied quickly, tucking into the food with the eagerness of one who is famished. “Speaking of veins, wait until you hear what happened with Astarion.”

Raphael listened, intent and focused as he always was whenever you spoke with him. The topic of your exchange with Haarlep seemed momentarily shelved, though you knew there was no chance of it being forgotten.

Raphael chortled in his familiar way, close-mouthed and smug, as you finished regaling him with the latest events. “What a quaint image. You revel at last in the success of your intrepid adventures, some more fruitful than others.”

“I’m satisfied.” You took another small bite of the roasted meat and sipped the wine.

Raphael peered at you, evidently not interested in eating. “Truly?  How unlike you.”

“You presume to know me?”  

“Better than most.”  Raphael answered, that damnable smile back on his face. “To illustrate this fact…Haarlep, join us.”

Slinking out from the shadows of a marble column walked Haarlep, you felt a jolt of dread at seeing the incubus wearing your naked form brazenly. Haarlep caught your eye, smiled widely, and did a little twirl to show off all your assets.

You sank down into your chair, mortified.

“Come.”  Raphael beckoned for Haarlep to straddle his lap and the incubus hopped merrily aboard.

“I can feel our little hero’s lust from here.”  Haarlep purred, taking Raphael’s ear between their teeth as they looked at you through your own eyes. “Delicious, and oh so familiar.”  Haarlep maintained teasing eye contact with you as their hands drifted down, giving you a torturous show.

You saw Raphael’s movements, saw Haarlep throw their head back in exaggerated pleasure, Raphael’s teeth scraping across the exposed throat that should be yours.

“I was in the middle of quite serious negotiations, pet, when you decided to take advantage of my body.”  Raphael gripped the soft flesh of Haarlep’s bottom, and you felt the corresponding touch echo ghostlike across your own skin. “I experienced everything.”

A rush of heated arousal awakened in the pit of your stomach; you squeezed your thighs together. Raphael’s eyes were drawn to the movement. He smiled. “Yes, I was quite aware, though I could only guess as to who soiled my bed.  It was irksome, a distraction from my business.”

Raphael slowly turned more of his attention to Haarlep and left you feeling frustrated and cold.  You felt only a hint, not nearly enough to gain release, and you didn’t dare touch yourself.

Haarlep cooed and giggled in your voice, your ears burned to hear such lewd sounds.

Only when Haarlep began riding Raphael in earnest did your resolve finally break. “Raphael, please.”

Large hands gripped Haarlep’s hips and stilled their movement. “Please what, pet?”

Your pride stilled your tongue.  Raphael chuckled and groaned as Haarlep resumed their bouncing movements. “Such a lovely, supple thing you are.”

“Surely, you don’t want simply a cheap imitation of me.”  You were becoming desperate, and keenly aware he could read right through you.

Haarlep let loose with a particularly loud moan and then placed their fingers to their lips, grinning wickedly at you.

Raphael’s hips began moving in rhythm, his breathing audible. “I could turn the same petulant quip…” He took a deep breath. “…back to you, my dear.”

Damn him.

“I want you.  That’s why I came to your house. I want you, the real you.”

Raphael stilled Haarlep, using his hands to quell their eager movements.  The incubus looked momentarily taken aback, giving Raphael a pout you hoped to never see again upon your face.

Raphael paid them no mind, his hooded gaze finally finding yours. He sat in silence for a long moment then rose to his feet, easily displacing the incubus.

Raphael extended a hand.

“Come to me then.”

[eva-does-her-best]

Transition is going great, it is genuinely saving my life, it's just unfortunate that it is happening at what could be one of the worst parts of my life.

Huge vent tw: self harm, abuse, sexual trauma

Hormones are the only purchase I can make every month, I don't have a job, our bank account ends up negative multiple times every month. I have a security camera in my room because my father is an alcoholic and my sister a junkie and they've stolen money from me since I was a child, they singlehandedly ruined our whole family but we can't even get rid of them because she has children and he pays the rent.

I try to accept my disability now that it got worse but despite the pain and frailness of this body they won't give me any help. Would diagnoses of my mental illnesses help convince them? Too bad, psychologists don't want to diagnose anything, they prefer trying to gaslight me into thinking nothing is wrong.

Clearly nothing is wrong when every time I make someone upset by mistake I whip my back until I can't feel it anymore; when I can't go to uni class because eventually I always get depressed and then my body takes over and makes me miss class against my will; and many other things.

I spend the days alone in my room because none of my friends ever visit me, and the most important people in my life live too far away and I may never see them. The people whose existance makes me want to try to have a life despite the constant feeling that I'm dying (thanks to doctors for saying that since I was 6) and despite the fact that I've never wanted a life before. Is a simple hug too much to ask? I miss you even when I am speaking with you.

5 years on an abusive relationship, trying to be good and safe and accomodating my whole life to a person who took all her life's and studies' stress and threw it at me every day, who sexually treated me like a biohazard and an afterthought despite demanding so much from me, who yelled at me so often I flinched every time her hand went near my face, who never even tried to understand my disabilities or support me with them in any way, who months after dumping me and being radio silent CALLED ME just to tell me how many people she had fucked and how she got raped only to then go silent again. I had to take YEARS to heal from all of that, terrified of people, unable to want, feeling like a monster and in danger at the same time just for having sexual thoughts. And now that I can finally attempt to trust someone again everyone I love is too far and fuck I feel so alone.

Do I demand too much? I really just want someone I like and love, I want to be cared for for once in my life, I want patience and understanding with how little control I have over my emotions, I want to take care of someone and make them happy, I want someone who doesn't take any recreational drugs, I want to stop suffering every day. I know I am a fucking huge burden, do I not deserve love? Do I even deserve to dream of being alive?

[themarvelhorse]

I Sail, When the Wolf Comes

CW: Death, Mental Illness

A vent, rant, of sorts. I put this here not just to express my feelings, but to let anyone who wants to, know what's up with me, especially right now.

My dad died.

I always feel like I need to say it like that. Not "he passed away", or he's no longer with us. As if I'm trying to force myself to accept that reality.

He died the day I left to visit a friend. He wasn't even over 65. He was left there to rot for four days. The rot. I can't get the smell of the rot out.

We lived together since the pandemic. He saved me from having to live with my mom. I love my mom and she's very supportive and loving but...

She has schizophrenia, the kind that makes her paranoid. The kind that leads her to stop trusting her friends and family, no matter what we do or say.

She's always been stubborn, but that one makes it so much harder.

It's funny. I've felt like I've had more hope of stopping catastrophic climate change than I do of saving my parents from themselves. I know, I've tried so fuckin' hard to do so. But the decay, the rot, started so much sooner, while they were still alive.

I got to watch the car crash in slow motion. I saw as my mom grew increasingly paranoid over time. All the yelling - not at me mind you - but I was the only one she could yell in the direction of. I took a break, spent some time with my dad, and came back. But then she pretty much picked up where she left off.

I couldn't stay, and it broke my heart.

I could stay, with my dad. We would watch sci-fi, retro TV, movies together, share coffee, a drink, our own inside jokes. It was great.

My mom sold the house, lost most of her things, and was a total mess. When she eventually found an apartment, I went to go furnish it since she... couldn't.

She was admitted to a hospital after screaming about aliens in the middle of the night.

They gave her medication, and helped her return to her old self... or at least reduce the damage. But she's always had that stubborn attitude. And of course, the healthcare system wouldn't have been able to help. There's no one left to offer help.

I can see it coming back. She tries to hide it around me so she doesn't get angry, but it'll come back. She invites family to dinner only to get mad at them. Like, she's mad at them when she invites them. Why?

So, my dad saved me from that. I was able to help from a distance. Somewhat. My dad saved my ass from a lot of things that could have gone much worse. He saved me from myself when I spiral.

But we moved again, and there was a new city I didn't want to go to, but he did. I came along eventually and got really into it. He did too, for a time. But then, things started piling up. A lot of things I wasn't even aware of.

It was a cycle of getting better and then worse. Each time I left, I realized he would be worse. Soon, it didn't matter if I left.

So let me whisper you a reminder Before they come to take me away Whenever there's no hope left to inspire Keep shining a light they all need to see

A fire that burns out for the last time A satellite falling from the sky

Another light shines on the horizon With courage and grace you said goodbye

A fire that burns out for the last time With courage and grace you waved goodbye Oh, goodbye

It was a heart attack, but was it? I'm going through his things. I'm seeing everything he was dealing with.

He was always supportive, and rarely judged. But I'm afraid of those moments when he did. When he tried to be open and honest about how he felt about things.

It was often contrary to my thoughts and perspective. And I argued that.

I'll give one example - he wasn't supportive of environmental action. But he was still supportive of me taking it, because I wanted to. Because he was a good dad.

And he did what he thought was best. Shove those feelings deep down so as to not stir up trouble with his son. Or at least I imagine so. I know he did everything and more for his sons.

That's what I am at the end of the day. A villain.

I'm a villain to my friends and family. People who've supported me so much over the years. I never knew how to repay them. I knew I wouldn't get a job that would make enough money to do that, so I wanted to do a job that would make life better for them indirectly. Or stop it from getting worse.

But it feels like so few would agree with me on how I do that. The science and academic literature say otherwise. I know I'm not trying to be a villain. I work to keep myself, my thoughts and opinions open. But some things I just can't move on. Can't move on taking climate change seriously. But ultimately what will happen? Their instant flights will eventually be gone. Their love of red meat limited to far less than they consume now. Their love of cars and giant single family homes. Their support of a politician who'll only drive us all backwards and make things worse. Their transphobia.

Of course it's not all those things for everyone. People are complex. But it's always those red flags.

And there's so much of life that's still supposed to get better after that. Flights and travel won't be gone. Meat won't be gone. Cars won't be gone. We'd have more time to spend enjoying life, or travelling, etc.

They would support me, because they trust me for me. If I got anything done, I'd surely be the villain in their eyes. The eyes of so many people I care about. Maybe it's a good thing I haven't finished so many projects I've started.

They've come out of the woodwork to offer support in this time, but it all leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The taste of rot. I'm sure that overtime, our relationships will rot away. I'll do what I have to, for their own good. Sounds like something a villain would say, eh? Maybe so, I haven't saved anyone. I've only helped where I could to ease the pain. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life when I was younger, so I wanted to do that. Help. Know I was doing something good.

Of course it comes at a cost. Asking for anything always does for me.

And so, my heart breaks yet again.

And yet again, I am alone. Because even for all their support and offerings of wanting to talk, most who do want to talk, I can't talk to. Or I have to tread lightly. Who knows what I'll say to someone that I don't know their opinion on? My issues cross over with climate action and related stuff. So there's so few I have to talk to. All those friends in the sector went their separate ways. I don't judge them for that, we all have jobs to do to get this done. We're all burnt out.

At least my dad's suffering is over. Just gotta pick up the pieces, and find a new place to stay.

"Me was sick and nigh to death

Tili go tili go

Me was sick and nigh to death

tili go tili go

Me was sick and nigh to death but I vowed with my every breath

For go with wisdom ways

When I sail."

[mackichu]

I had a realization during my meditation this morning.

(TW: abuse, mental illness)

I have been working on myself a lot lately. I want to improve my mental and physical health, so I've dedicated myself to routines, checklists, playing music loudly on speakers, taking up hobbies I used to enjoy when I was a kid, physical activity (albeit not that much, but more than nothing which is what I've been doing a whole lot of lately), and of course, meditation.

When I woke up to start the day, I noticed that I spent longer in the shower than I normally do. I noticed that I was doom-scrolling instead of carrying on with my tasks as part of my daily routine. Being observant of myself, I have come to understand that this means my mental health is slipping.

Being able to recognize this about myself has become easier with the use of journaling and tracking my mood throughout the day.

Not only did I recognize this mood, but I actually did something about it.

I made myself a cup of green tea with honey, walked over to my bedroom, sipped my tea and placed it on the nightstand, then sat on the ground cross-legged. I pulled up my self-improvement app, tapped on a meditation session, threw my phone on the bed and did as the instructor told me.

Deep breaths.

Inhale. Exhale. Slowly.

Recognize that our emotions, even anxiety, are there to help us. What is your anxiety telling you? Give yourself space to understand it and make room for it.

From the fog of my meditative mind, the word "family" appeared.

I have a problem with family.

"Family" for me has not been a happy word for me for most of my lifetime. A source of stability for others is the very storm that has knocked me down over and over and over and over again.

The wounds I've suffered at the hands of this monster is something I've been trying to heal for almost my entire life. Just when I think I've got a grip on things, it rears itself into my life again.

Years of therapy, and yet I am still here; this terrible weight inside my belly that keeps me down every day of my life.

But this time is different, I think.

After the smoke has cleared from years of fighting and making truces and fighting again, I have ended with something different than what I started with.

I have stopped talking to my mother, probably for a very long time. I talk to my brothers here and there and my father slightly less.

My greatest family has come from those that are not related to me by blood.

I am beginning to accept that more and more each day.

It comes from those who have chosen me from day one. It comes from those who have taught me forgiveness. That an argument isn't a death sentence; that you can actually still talk to one another and make amends and still love eachother. That you don't have to hold eachother emotional hostages, which is something that I was for almost the entirety of my life.

Even if my family wasn't in the midst of a fight, I didn't feel (or was not made to feel) that I belonged. I was the black sheep of the family. I mostly stayed to myself when I was growing up. I locked myself away in my room, which had become a magical escape from reality.

Leading up to my parents' divorce, the ferocity and frequency of fights really amped up. The most recent memories I have of all of us sitting together was in a small living room, lined up on the couch; an audience picked by hand for front row seats to the shit show; silence so heavy it could choke you; eyes red and puffy from the salty sting of tears; the inability to stand up and walk away.

This was what "family" meant to me. This was "togetherness".

Which is why I felt so awkward and and out of place the first few times I visited with my now-husband's family. How they all just sat around watching TV together, just enjoying eachother's presence. I couldn't understand why they wanted to spend so much time together. Why they make Facetime calls every single week, sometimes multiple times a week. Not about anything major, just to talk and shoot the shit with eachother. "Do you want to talk to them?" my husband would ask. "Why?" I would reply. I have no major news to speak about. They have no news for me. What could possibly be the point of talking to one another? To be honest, I was annoyed at first. Why did they keep asking so much of me? Why did they need so much time together? Don't they know that time spent together is only supposed to be the tiniest bit of bare minimum?

My, how things have changed so much in these last few years.

I feel less awkward now. I am starting to understand my place in this new pack I have found myself in. I play my role pretty well, I think. But it does, at times, make me feel out of place. This feeling makes me feel ashamed and embarrassed, broken and fraudulent. This gives way to that heavy feeling under my ribs.

And yes, the heaviness keeps me down a lot of days. It has for a while now.

I just want to feel... lighter.

Maybe-- hopefully-- I will achieve that.

[lemonbalmgirl]

I keep having full (for me) weeks and my social battery is tiiiiired.

I'm really good at either forgetting or explaining away (mentally) that there IS fatigue that comes with my health stuff. It's a type of imposter syndrome, I guess? Like, I have stuff going on, but it's not THAT bad compared to other people, so I should be able to keep up with "normal"/healthy people and if I can't, it's because I'm lazy/not trying hard enough.

Saturday: I had most of the day to myself on Saturday to recharge.

Sunday: Minnie & I went to coffee in the morning, and I went to the esoteric/folklore/witchy group with @upthewitchypunx & @friend-crow in the afternoon.

Monday: I ran out of fucks Sunday night, so I got up early to bake my dessert for the Memorial Day picnic that Minnie & I were invited to; we went to the picnic for 3-4 hours before running out of steam. (It was really nice! We've been adopted by some older women we met at Happyrock Coffee and the picnic was them and their friends.) We came home and Minnie hung out while I showered, did some laundry, and did some dishes, then took me over to Cute Girlfriend's for the night.

Tuesday: I was supposed to go donate plasma, but that morning I felt kind of ill and ended up puking. I wasn't sure if I could manage an hour-long bus right to the plasma center, so that was canceled. I hung out with Girlfriend until I felt okay to take the 15 minute bus ride home.

TODAY: I'm attempting to get some non-crochet Work done (though I haven't yet), then take the bus over to @upthewitchypunx's to go to the Cure concert. 💜💜💜

Thursday: I'll get a ride to plasma, since I'll likely need to sleep in from being out late for the concert.

Friday: Going over to Booth-Partner's to set up both of our canopies for the first time and play with tables, so we can decide on a basic layout *ahead* of actually needing one.

Saturday: The elementary school up the street from me is having a Kids' Pride Day & Parade in the morning. There have been rumors of an anti protest being mounted, so I plan on going to support the kids. Then in the evening, I'll be going with Booth-Partner (and maybe Girlfriend) to see the Starlight Parade downtown. I haven't been to it in years, so I expect it to be pretty fun (but also overwhelming in terms of people).

Sunday: After spending the night at Booth-Partner's, we'll get garbed up and go visit the Oregon Renaissance Faire for the day. We didn't get accepted to vend (which I'm fine with at this point), but our friend who DID gets a couple complementary tickets, so we'll use those to just go have fun for the day and maybe get a little inspired for our upcoming events.

Theoretically, I'm selling at a small event the following Thursday, but I haven't gotten an acceptance yet, so we'll see if that happens. 🤷‍♀️

[yhwhrulz]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for October 31

Tozer in the Morning The Divine Illuminator

To know God in the scriptural meaning of the term is to enter into experience of Him. It never means to know about. It is not a knowledge mediated by the intellect, but an unmediated awareness experienced by the soul on a plane too high for the mind to reach. Where then is the place of the intellect in Christian experience? And why waste time thinking when we know beforehand that thought cannot bring us to the knowledge that is most of all to be desired, the knowledge of God? The answer is that the whole biblical revelation is addressed to the intellect and through the intellect reaches the will, the seat of the moral life; if the will responds in repentance and obedience, the Holy Spirit illuminates the penitent heart and reveals Christ, the image of God, to it. What began as an appeal to reason (Isaiah 1:18) ends in a spiritual experience wholly above reason

Tozer in the Evening That Questionable Suffering

We delude ourselves when we try to turn our just punishments into a cross and rejoice over that for which we should rather repent. ?For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently? but if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God? (1 Peter 2:20) . The cross is always in the way of righteousness. We feel the pain of the cross only when we suffer for Christ?s sake by our own willing choice. I think that there is also another kind of suffering, one that does not fall into either of the categories considered above. It comes neither from the rod nor from the cross, not being imposed as a moral corrective nor suffered as a result of our Christian life and testimony. It comes in the course of nature and arises from the many ills flesh is heir to. It visits all alike in a greater or lesser degree and woul d appear to have no clear spiritual significance. Its source may be fire, flood, bereavement, injuries, accidents, illness, old age, weariness or the upset conditions of the world generally. What are we to do about this? Well, some great souls have managed to turn even these neutral afflictions to good. By prayer and self-abasement they wooed adversity to become their friend and made rough distress a teacher to instruct them in the heavenly arts. May we not emulate them?

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[anislandintime]

This afternoon while I was about to take a nap after lunch, I received a call from my sister. She had called to inform me about the death of our chikkappa (mother's younger sister's husband). He was fine till yesterday, it seems. He caught fever last noon and when it caused him too much discomfort, he was hospitalized. His kidney stopped functioning later at night, and he also stopped responding to medicines. This noon he passed away.

As a child, I used to be very fond of him because he was funny, and more importantly he never talked down to us children like all the other elders around us did. But his wife, my aunt, was very mean to me, and more than often he also joined hands with her to ridicule me, humiliate me, and belittle me. It was nothing short of psychological terrorism. But, as a child, I did not view it as abuse. I only felt deeply unloved and un-belonged. This impression got hardened also because most of my relatives joined my aunt and uncle and laughed at me. For them it was just a joke, a prank; but not for me. For me it was a statement of me being unworthy of affection, undeserving of belonging- a feeling which got crystalized within me, and shaped my self-image and self-worth for a lifetime. In my childhood, I did not realize the deep impact these experiences left on me. While growing up I gained clarity and perspective not just about right and wrong, but also began to see how those words and actions of my aunt, my uncle, and other relatives, impacted me and paralyzed my inscape. I couldn't understand why would grownups do that to a young boy in his formative years! What was the motive? What was the purpose? I couldn't square the circle. As a child I felt I had to do something more (and more) to gain the love, and affection of all these people and tried hard to earn love, acceptance, and a bond of belonging. But as I grew up I realized that is not how it is for everybody else. More importantly, that is not how it is supposed to be. Nobody has to earn love, acceptance, belonging, and nurturing. The ill-treatment and unfairness of it hit me hard with this realization and I turned extremely angry about it, especially towards my aunt and my uncle- who I saw as the king pins of the emotional abuse unleashed on me. So I distanced myself from them. I haven't spoken to them for years now, except for some customary talks when they visit our place in Manipal. My parents asked me why I was being indifferent to these two and though I explained it to my parents, they did not acknowledge my hurt, pain, and suffering; and that angered me further and made me feel even more isolated, unheard, and also unloved and unwanted.

This noon when I heard about chikappa's death, to my surprise, I felt strangely uneasy and also sad. No, not because of any attachment, or a general humanitarian response to a fellow human's death. The first thought to cross my mind on hearing about his death was- "I couldn't forgive him in his lifetime." The feeling underneath this thought was- regret. I felt regretful about not being able to forgive him. But even on hearing about his death, I could not forgive him. I suddenly saw everything to be just meaningless... Me trying to register my complaint about his actions (and that of his wife), holding anger in my chest, distancing myself from them... Everything. Neither did he (or his wife) realize their wrongs, nor did I get any justice. My wounds never got acknowledged, nor found healing or any closure. And he just passed away... Someday his wife will also pass away. And someday, with the wounds inflicted by them still unhealed, I too will end my journey on this earth!!!

As these thoughts cut through my mind, making a numbing emptiness settle in my heart, somehow all the anger that was burning (within) me, just evaporated. Everything appeared just meaningless. Yet, I couldn't forgive him.

When I have lived with the irreparable impact of his actions and words and will have to live with it hereafter too, why am I feeling sad about not being able to forgive him? The impact of his actions during my formative years will continue to paralyze me, and this feeling of not being able to forgive him will also impact me. I still can't forgive him and also feel bad about it.  Now when I am trying to reflect on these occurrences that have cast a long shadow, I realize that deep within, I was holding on to my anger because I wanted my hurt to be acknowledged, to be healed. But none of it happened. Probably it won't happen in my lifetime too. Also, I regret turning out to be this person who couldn't forgive. I have fallen short as a human. I am weeping for myself. I feel bad about this too-  weeping for myself when someone has just passed away.

If there is a God, let She forgive chikappa for the direct or/ and indirect, conscious or/ and unconscious damages he did to me. If there is a next life, may the Almighty wire him in a way that he can be kind, caring, nurturing, and loving in his next life. (This world needs more people with a great human capacity to love and care) If there is a soul, may his soul rest in peace. Amen.

[purplesurveys]

1797

1.What did you do in 2023 that you’d never done before?  I was pretty stoked about trying Habanero for the first time, and I'm happy to report that that viral pizza with the cheese cube thing on top of every slice is every bit as good as the hype.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?  I didn't. 2023 felt like drowning but barely having time to catch my breath, and my life and goals went off the rails pretty early. I initially wanted to try out a new restaurant every weekend, but I think I stopped as soon as the last week of January...

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?  Nope. I know two people from high school who gave birth months apart from one another, but that's it.

4. Did anyone close to you die?  Not anyone in my personal life but I was left stunned and devastated with the losses of both Matthew Perry and Andre Braugher. Andre's in particular I cried over.

5. What countries did you visit?  Thailand and Malaysia.

6. What would you like to have in 2024 that you lacked in 2023? Getting my mental health back.

7. What date from 2024 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?  June 11 – I saw Yoongi. The shit we had to go through to successfully attend that show as a group of four...I don't think we'll ever recreate the same magic and stroke of luck ever again.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?  Treating my family to places that we used to only look at from afar.

9. What was your biggest failure?  Failing to set myself free from my job. I'm afraid of the unknown and I'm afraid of how high I could still possibly soar, given everything that's happened; maybe that's really all there is to it.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?  I'm pretty sure I've sunk into another depression and am still digging my way out of it. Also Cooper bit me in the face early 2023 and I had to get loads of shots for it, hahaha.

11. What was the best thing you bought?  A new pair of shoes, and my ticket to Yoongi's show. OH and nipple cover-ups. They're a whole new world. Why would I ever wear a bra again???

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?  Bea, for finding the strength to finally leave. And Trina, for her bravery in starting a new life in the completely other side of the world.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?  A client who is thankfully not under any of my accounts. Word just got around and apparently they publicly berated (read: YELLED AT) one of my co-workers at one of her events, and there isn't one day I don't think of that person with disgust.

14. Where did most of your money go?  For the first half of the year, it was for Thailand. For the latter end, it all went to savings because I finally realized I had a problem.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?  Finally hopping on a plane going to another country! I hadn't traveled overseas since East Asia in 2016.

16. What song will always remind you of 2023?  Either Haegeum by Yoongi or Seven by Jungkook.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: 

i. Happier or sadder?  A little sadder, I would say. It's lonely at work now without Bea and Trina physically present; and the pressure is so incredibly great and heavy to not fuck up, knowing Bea was my predecessor. I've long accepted that I will be nowhere near as good as her any time soon, but the pressure to otherwise do the best I possibly can is still there, of course.

ii. thinner or fatter? I saw a photo of myself taken last Sunday and was a little surprised to see how even thinner I got.

iii. richer or poorer?  Richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?  Not be afraid to eat alone in restaurants.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?  Bend over backwards for the company I'm not even inheriting LOL

20. How will you be spending Christmas?  I attended several family gatherings, but our Christmas eve tradition remained the same as all years – stayed the whole day at home + went to evening mass + opened presents when it was near midnight.

21. What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you in 2023?  Probably that time in Malaysia when I was getting coffee, and the barista was saying something that I genuinely and frustratingly couldn't fucking understand. She was saying what I could only pick up as 'tekweh' and I asked her to repeat it an embarrassing five times until it registered that she was asking if I wanted my coffee for takeaway.

Same thing happened at a 7-Eleven in Thailand – apparently the clerk had been asking if I wanted to get my rice meal microwaved.

22. Did you fall in love in 2023?  Nopes.

23. How many one-night stands?  Zero.

24. What was your favorite TV program?  I loved DP.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?  I don't hate anyone... 

26. What was the best book you read? BTS' memoir was the only thing I read in 2023 lol and I liked it plenty.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?  TXT.

28. What did you want and get?  I wanted to see Yoongi before he disappeared for the next two years, and I got those damn tickets while getting to travel.

29. What did you want and not get?  I wanted to find a new job and not stay in a position where my blood pressure is consistently spiking, and I did not get to do that for myself.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?  I watched like one movie (Oppenheimer) and disliked it.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?  Enjoyed the release of D-DAY then hosted dinner for my friends.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?  LEAVING MY JOB.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2024?  I embraced the oversized fit a whole lot more!

34. What kept you sane?  My free time, my weekends, and my dogs.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?  Kim Namjoon, Vernon, and Jung Haein.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?  Just anything to do with China and China being big fucking gross bullies against my country.

37. Who did you miss?  Kimi, my dad, BTS.

38. Who was the best new person you met?  Ruthie has been such a great addition to the team and should she ever leave I feel like she'd be the first teammate departure I would genuinely be bummed about. 

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2023:  Proactively fucking take care of yourself because that's the one responsibility you owe yourself.

[coghive]

Living With Purpose: How Awareness of Death Can Transform Our Lives

I like to imagine things and paint scenarios in my head a lot. It can be overwhelming sometimes, but for the sake of this piece, I would implore you to indulge me. I just want to show you how the awareness of death can transform our lives and help us live more purposefully. Imagine if you were diagnosed with a terminal illness (God forbid! It's not your portion, and I don't wish that on anyone), but just picture it for a moment. If you were given a specified number of years to live, let's say five years give or take, would it change the way you live your life? Well, at first, you might feel depressed and unhappy, but after a while, you would accept your fate. When you finally come to terms with reality, wouldn't you want the little time you have left to count for much? I bet many of us would make the most of those years.  We wouldn't leave anything to chance anymore. We would start by taking care of our health, both physical and mental. We would prioritise our loved ones, our jobs, and the pursuit of our life's goals and dreams. Nothing would be taken for granted.  Some of us might even quit our jobs because we've never derived satisfaction from them and instead launch our own startups where our true passions lie. Others would adopt healthier diets and incorporate exercise into their routines, all in an effort to extend their time on Earth. We would cherish every moment spent with our loved ones and create more meaningful memories.  We would treat each moment with them as if it were our last. We would strive to be more honest, intentional with our time and energy, kinder, more compassionate, more loving, and more accommodating. We would visit places we've always wanted to go and try out new things. We would remove all the limitations we've imposed on ourselves, wouldn't we? We would simply live. Now, what if I told you that you already have a terminal illness? I don't mean leukaemia or cystic fibrosis, but the truth is, we're all running out of time. We all have a limited lifespan, and one day, we will expire.  Therefore, you must protect the integrity of the life you have now. It's bad enough that you don't know how much time you have left on this side of life. Hence, you can't just leave your life to chance.  Having a casual knowledge of the inevitability of death is one thing, but living with the awareness of it is another thing entirely. You don't get to choose the hand life deals you, but that's okay. There's no need to sit around complaining and grumbling about how your life is or how you wish it were. You have to play the hand you've been dealt.  The life you desire won't just automatically fall into your lap; you have to create it. It's time to embrace your purpose and manifest your full potential. Live with such integrity that you can die well. Death shouldn't scare us if we live intentionally.  Instead, the awareness of it should motivate us to make the most of the time we have before it's over. Mediocrity has never benefited anyone greatly. Find a balance. Dance to the rhythm of your destiny.  Let this understanding fill you up and flow through you until you transform into a better person because of it. Don't be a spectator in your own life. Be proactive and play an active role in the script you're writing.  So that when your time on Earth is done, you can peacefully leave with the assurance that you gave it your best shot. It's not the fear of death that gives meaning to our lives; it it is the purposeful way we lived it, embracing the gift of existence until the very end. Read the full article

[jewishprayers]

What are some good last minute offerings to a dying person?

Visiting the Sick (bikkur cholim)

One aspect of this holy work of visiting those who are ill is coming to terms with our own health challenges and mortality. One of the most helpful ways is to start by trying to understand your personal death awareness by taking a moment and recalling the number of times today you’ve thought about your own — not someone else’s — death or limited span of life. Maybe you thought about your age and evaluated your own progress towards certain life goals. Or perhaps you briefly experienced a fear of dying. Some days you may act and think as if you’re going to live forever. The purpose of this exercise is to raise your personal death awareness so that you may begin to perceive an entire range of choices about your life and death that you might not have been aware of.

From this perspective of humble awareness of one’s own limitations and mortality, we enter the world of those who are ill, and try as best we can to be there to support them, where they are, as they are, as who they are, while they navigate the challenges facing them. Sometimes just being there, in silence, is enough. Just having an open heart can provide tremendous support.

Pending Death, Just After Death

When death is imminent, it is appropriate to include the vidui (“confession”) prayer in support of the dying person (goses). Alison Jordan, RN, MS, MFT, writes, “The Vidui provides an opportunity to unburden a heavy heart, return to a sense of hope for wholeness, and to let go of life peacefully. I continue to study the notion of death as atonement. In the meantime death is seen as a natural and G-d given experience to be encountered and met, hopefully in the comforting presence of others. Wholeness of healing is understood not in physical terms, but as redeeming acceptance, reconciliation, and peace.” See her website – Vidui Variations

Rabbi Stuart Kelman writes, “The traditional function of the vidui at the end of life is to provide words for the person who is in the process of dying. Our tradition is remarkably silent concerning those who are standing by the bedside. Alison Jordan has defined vidui as a prayer of confession to God. The deathbed confessional is said by or for the goses (dying person), but another type of vidui may be recited by others when addressing God concerning the relationship to the goses.”

Additional customs:

Jewish law defines a “primary mourner” as a parent, sibling, child, or spouse of the deceased. Traditionally, all primary mourners who are present at the moment of death perform the ritual of kri’ah (tearing of a garment) at this point, and continue to wear the torn clothing as mourners. Others who are present in the room at the moment of death also perform the ritual of kri’ah, even if they will not be mourners. This could include physicians, nurses, caretakers, visiting friends, relatives, or others.

Other customs include:

Closing the eyes and mouth of the deceased

Straightening the limbs

Covering the deceased, often with a sheet

Placing a candle near the head of the deceased

Opening the windows in the room (if weather is problematic, windows are opened briefly, then closed again)

Covering the mirrors (at home – this does not apply in a hospital or other facility)

Between Death and Burial

There are two areas of interest when we discuss what happens between death and burial: care of the body of the deceased and what mourners should do during this period. This period between the time of death and the burial is called aninut.

Mourning Starts

A man who mourns during aninut is called an “onen“, a women an “onenet”. This is when most people feel like they are “in-between”. An individual in this situation has no religious obligations beyond attending to the practical necessities of arranging for the funeral. The Jewish understanding is that an onen/onenet is not able to focus on anything other than the immediate issue of the burial, and is not expected to be capable of any ritual observances (and may even be prohibited from doing them), even those that might otherwise be performed on a daily basis (such as reciting Sh’ma).

The Taharah Ritual

In Jewish tradition, we are all holy beings created in the image of the Divine. This means that when we die, our body is considered a holy thing and should be treated with respect and dignity. Jewish tradition also considers the holy spiritual aspect of a human being, the soul, to be eternal, returning to the Divine upon death. So when a person dies, we have a special ritual to prepare the body for burial and at the same time, midwife the soul from this world to the next. This beautiful ritual is called taharah, from the Hebrew root having to do with purification. The ritual includes physical washing of the body along with a powerful spiritual liturgy, and a pouring of water, all intended to assist the soul on its journey.

To know more about Jewish Life Events visit:

Jewish Prayer Before Death - Vidui Prayer - Jewish DoorwaysFind here short Vidui Prayer, Vidui Deathbed Prayer for Release and Jewish text, poem, psalm and songs for before death as per Jewish tradition.https://jewishdoorways.org/stage_events/before-death/

[katharkness]

Forgive me for a seemingly irrelevant tangent, I promise to try to loop it back properly.

Have you ever seen/read Catch-22? It’s a classic I’d always intended to read, and a few years back the BBC did a new dramatisation of it, and I watched a bit of it. But I had to stop pretty quickly. See, Catch-22 is full of Vietnam-era anti-war rhetoric. The characters were saying things that basically boiled down to, “we’re having such a terrible time with this war, we should stop fighting”. Now, I don’t know enough about the Vietnam War to know how morally upright that philosophy would have been in that context, but it was applied to the European theatre of World War Two. The *Americans* were saying that they were having such a bad time in the war that they should *stop fighting Hitler*. I found the idea rather stomach churning. Yes, war is terrible. Yes, the American airmen were within their rights to not want to be there. But also, their opponents were literally murdering children, and everything else that comes with genocide. So I hope you can understand why I couldn’t stand it.

I’m British. The Blitz is still within living memory, just about, more so when I was a child. We’re running a little low on WWII veterans, but we have lots of testimony from them recorded within my lifetime. We’re still connected to the time when our non-combatants were war casualties.

I’d like to look at two British sitcoms, favourites of my dad when he was young. They were both written, I dunno, between the sixties and eighties? Both set during WWII. Pretty sure they have at least one writer in common, and with the experiences of real ex-servicemen behind them.

First is Dad’s Army, which follows a platoon of the Home Guard. As you may or may not know, the Home Guard was formed from men who couldn’t join the regular services but who trained in readiness against invasion. Most of them were in vital industries, farmers etc, but also men too old for regular service, hence the nickname. I’d like to think about one particular episode. In this ep, Private Godfrey decides to quit the platoon. If he can’t even kill a mouse eating his paltry rations, how can he raise arms against his fellow man? The captain asks, did you not serve in the last war? Godfrey says he was a conscientious objector, that his conscience would not let him fight. This is a huge social sin, and much of the episode is concerned with various characters coming to terms with Godfrey’s “cowardice”. At the end, there’s a training accident with some smoke canisters, and Godfrey risks his life to pull out other guardsmen. The captain goes to visit Godfrey while he’s recuperating, to thank him and to apologise. While he’s there, he sees Godfrey’s medals. His sister explains that while Godfrey couldn’t fight in the previous war, he was instead a stretcher bearer who saved many lives and was decorated for gallantry while under fire. Godfrey is then trained to be the platoon’s medic, which allows him to help without having to actively fight.

The second, less well-known sitcom is It Ain’t Half Hot Mum. It’s set in India, then Burma/Myanmar, almost entirely during the months between victory in Europe and victory in Asia - that is, May to August 1945. It follows a concert party of servicemen assigned to entertainment duties rather than combat. My point with this example is not based on any particular incident or episode, but rather the overall vibe of the show. The individual servicemen (for the most part) do not wish to be there and do not want to serve. But their arguments are always “*I* shouldn’t be fighting, *I* am not suited to this”, and in fairness they are absolutely correct. But they don’t argue against the war, and there’s no ill-feeling towards their fellow servicemen. They recognise the war is necessary, just argue against their individual participation.

What am I trying to say from these three media examples? The British examples accept the occasional necessity of war, and examine individual response to the tribulations thereof. The American example sees the individual tribulations, and concludes that war should never be allowed.

My rather spotty understanding of American history is that the last open warfare on mainland USA was either the American Civil War, or the war between the Federal army and the native Americans. So Americans don’t really have any tie to a time when they *couldn’t* stay home and ignore whatever war (not counting the draft).

This is a bit of an extrapolation, but I feel that Americans have a sense that war is something you can opt out of, while in Britain, and probably the rest of Europe, there’s an understanding that sometimes refusing to fight means allowing atrocities.

Why am I bringing this up on a Star Wars post? Because I think that’s kind of what a lot of anti-Jedi commentators are failing to realise. If the Jedi refuse to fight, they are allowing atrocities to be done by Separatists to invaded worlds, and by Tarkin and co to clones. They are in Godfrey’s situation, in the concert party’s situation, whereas commentators seem to be painting it the same way Catch-22’s author painted WWII.

I'm in the mood for bad faith Anakin Skywalker takes today, so if you have any of those to share, please do!

[bastart13]

Unfortunately I couldn’t help but think through a few ironic implications of Portia’s Reversed ending

Fic below the cut

[1.5k words, tw character dying, set in Portia’s Reversed ending so spoilers]

A decade or so after their story ended

Isha let their head fall back with a rattling, haggard sigh. They closed their eyes, letting the gentle rocking of the docked ship lull their heart into a calm pace. It was almost enough for them to forget their troubles if it wasn’t for the sharp aches in their hip or the sheer effort it took to take a breath.

They’d never been good at listening to their own discomfort. They’d lived with discomfort all the life they remembered, whether it be from minor inconveniences with their arm, or the ever-present fatigue since magic left their world. But now, their body screamed at them everything they’d been trying to ignore. Everything they’d kept from Portia.

A chipper, rhythmic knocking on the door took them out of their thoughts. Despite everything, Isha couldn’t help but smile.

“Welcome back,” they called.

The door swung open with no hesitation as their wife bound into the room. Her sunny smile lit up the room, emphasising the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. A true smile, reserved for Isha and their children alone. She kicked off her worn boots, shutting the door behind her as she waltzed over to the bed.

“I’ve been missing you,” she teased, leaning in for a quick kiss. “We should be ready to undock soon. Jasna’s grown up to be a fine bosun. I swear, soon they’ll be rigging the boat with their hands tied behind their back just for the challenge. Right after we—”

Portia’s eyes locked onto their bedside table. A half-finished tankard of beer sat over an unfamiliar note filled edge-to-edge with scrawling ink. Her eyebrows tensed, frowning.

“Was Ilya here?”

“Yes, he just left,” Isha said. “He was sorry he couldn’t stay to see you, but he needed to get back to his partner before dark.”

“Did he at least squeeze in a ‘hello’ to his nieces and nephews?” she asked, her voice lightening to a dangerous cheer. Isha shook their head, looking back to the note.

“No…”

They needed to tell her.

He’d written everything she’d need to know but she didn’t deserve to hear it from Julian’s letter.

Portia stroked through their dull curls, pushing them away from their face before gently cupping their cheek.

“Are you feeling better from this morning?” she asked.

Isha took a short, weary breath.

“I’m not well, Portia,” they said softly. “I went outside for some fresh air this afternoon, when I ran into Julian and I had one of those attacks. He helped me back to see what was wrong and it’s getting worse.”

Hurt flickered across her expression before she slapped on a determined smile.

“But he told you how to treat it, right? That’s what the note is. I know we’re charted to sail down the Strait of Seals but if we don’t have what you need or the cold would be too much, we can change course,” she reassured, picking up a pace with no intention of stopping. “And look on the bright side! Now Ilya’s seen you, we might be able to get you back on your feet. You’ve been feeling low for a while now, think of all the places we can visit once you’re better. You can get back off the ship and travel inland. I’ve heard it’s really settled down in the north and I’d love it if we could visit Sun lake again—”

“There’s nothing to treat it,” Isha asserted, but Portia barrelled past.

“—And if we’re passing through Galbrada we can meet back up with Lavi. In his last letters, he was so excited about his travels—”

“I’m dying.”

Portia’s voice cut out.

The ship creaked and drummed with the distant movement of the crew above deck but to them, the quiet hung in the air like a dense fog.

“You’re not dying,” she insisted, the shine in her eyes fracturing. “You’re not dying, you’ll be okay,” she repeated. “I’m the Ambassador of Vesuvia! Along with Prakra, we’re one of the most powerful cities in the land and I have ships in every port in the five seas, loaded with imports. Ilya just must not know what we have access to. Even if—if you’re as ill as he says, we can find a cure. He could look again o-or we could go to Nazali. I know they’re older now, but they’ve trained so many medics, and if that doesn’t work, I know the leader of Urdangabil. They’re one of the leading pioneers of new medicine and if I look through my silvered book, I’m sure I can find something to get her to—”

“No.” Isha gripped Portia’s hand, staring deep into her eyes. Their gaze softened, their care hurting her more than any blade. “I’m dying, Portia

She frantically shook her head, her lip quivering.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’ve been dying ever since the magic left.”

“You’re not going to die! You’re going to be okay…”

“I was never going to live that long. It was borrowed time.”

“You told me you were okay!” Portia sobbed. There was nothing else she could say. She broke.

Pearly tears streamed down her cheeks and she collapsed into Isha’s embrace. She gripped their nightdress, holding onto them like a drowning woman to driftwood. Helpless sobs wracked through her body and Isha held onto their wife in return, gently rubbing her shoulder with their stump. It felt unfair. They were still so warm. Their heart beat the same reassuring patter as whenever Portia curled up against their chest. How could they… How…

But she knew how. She knew why and the thought only made her choking cries harsher.

“I’m sorry…” Isha said softly. “You deserved to know sooner… I wasn’t okay.”

Their chest grew wet from Portia’s tears and they only held her closer.

“It’s… gotten worse over the years,” they explained. “The first few were just this tiredness, but then my headaches came back. Tiredness became exhaustion. I felt… hollow. Like I was using myself up from the inside with every breath and step. It wasn’t until Julian saw me that I recognised it… You know me; I’m useless at asking for help.” They tried for a smile, even if Portia couldn’t see it. “I’m thankful every day I didn’t put that promise in my vows.”

Her crying hitched with a hysterical laugh before slamming her fist against their chest.

“STOP IT!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “J-Just stop it… Stop being s-so stupidly calm! How can y-you just—just accept this?! We’ve done so much… so much… All together. How could I have missed it? I have secrets on every city’s leader. I have ears and eyes everywhere. How—How didn’t even know my own spouse was d-dying!”

“I didn’t know,” Isha whispered, “and I didn’t tell you. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is! You know it is more than anyone. I was the one who chose to kill Aunt Tasya! I could have talked to her. I could have done anything to convince her, I could have…" She stilled under Isha’s arm. Tears dripped from her wide, unfocused eyes.

Moving like a stiff puppet, she fell out of their embrace.

“...The Arcana,” she whispered, the words barely leaving her lips. “I know Asra looked into it and found nothing… but that was just the first year. We have access to so much more… That’s it. I… I could try and call on them. On the other world. Even on—”

Portia jolted out of her daze with Isha’s iron clasp around her wrist and their amber eyes boring into her with a fire she hadn’t seen in years.

“You can’t,” they ordered. “Whatever happens, you can’t repeat Tasya’s mistakes. When we killed her, we accepted the consequences, and I don’t regret it. I can’t let you fall down that path. No matter what happens to me, you need to remember that. I’m not saying you can’t grieve, but you have to let me go.”

More tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. Isha let go of her wrist, reach up to hold her face and brush them away with their thumb.

“You’ve done everything you can for me and more,” they said.  “You’ve given me a goal, friends, a family. It means more than I could ever say, and I’m glad I’ve had this time with you, but it was always a half-filled hourglass.” They inhaled sharply, their chest suddenly feeling too empty until they breathed through the pain. Their eyes fell closed as they rested their forehead against Portia’s. “I’ve died once before. I don’t remember anything about the life I had before it, but as hard as it is, I know it’s different this time. I don’t want to die. I’m scared. I hate upsetting you. I want to see our children grow up and know the lives they’ll lead. But I’ve accepted it. I can’t ignore it or put it off.”

They pulled back with burning eyes and a tight throat.

“You’ve made my life worth more than I ever thought it could be. I love you, my light. Thank you for loving me.”

[sunarinluvr]

|| haikyuu boys finding you asleep on the couch after an argument ||

includes: kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, & oikawa tooru

a/n- hello! sorry for posting so late, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i was actually in the mood to finish it so i hope yall enjoy! oh and im not really sure about how i feel about it,,, might take it down later we shall see.

warnings: none ( lmk if there’s anything! )

KUROO -

last night you saw a post kuroo’s “work wife” had made on instagram with her kissing him on the cheek, and it didn’t make you feel the best, so you decided to bring it up to him the next morning. and you did, just as he was getting ready for work you talked to him about it.

you were standing in front of him filled with anger arguing about how it made you uncomfortable, “can you please listen?! i dont feel comfortable with your “work wife” kissing you?” you yelled. “Y/N it was on the cheek its not a big deal!” and to be honest you just wanted to cry. 

finally, he walked past you and opened the door. “i don’t have time for this y/n, stop being so insecure! at least she wouldn’t argue over something so small!” and with that, he slammed the door and you stood there stunned. kuroo knew that he shouldn’t have said that, instant regret and guilt filled his gut.

 but he already said it, he can’t do anything about it now. with a frustrated sigh, he went to work. hoping to fix everything when he gets home. you stood there speechless, as you realized you still had work so slowly you made your way to the bathroom. 

after getting ready and grabbing a quick snack you were out the door with a heavy chest. once you get home, tired and feeling worse than before. you trudged to the couch and plopped down letting out a shaky sigh remembering the argument and the words he said repeating in your head. 

you broke down crying, and before you knew it, the exhaustion from today took over and you were sound asleep on the couch. kuroo got home an hour later, he felt guilty and was already practicing how he’d apologize to you as he walked in.“y/n? kitten?” no answer. 

he called out again, and was met with silence, he made his way over to the living room where he found you sleeping on the couch. gently walking towards you he knelt down, and saw your tear-stained face which made his heart sink. “i fucked up” he said to himself.

giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead he softly apologized and carried you to the bedroom. you ended up waking up when you felt his body weight dent the bed. “tetsu?” you said softly squinting at him. relief rushes through his body at the sound of his nickname. looking at you with guilt in his eyes

“im so sorry kitten, i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t mean to hurt you” he said gently. at that tears started flowing again and he was quick to hug you and wipe your tears with his other hand. “it’s ok, i shouldn’t have been so insecure anyways” 

he shook his head with a frown “no it’s not your fault ok? i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you so so much and i’m so lucky that you’re mine” you look up at him and gave him a small smile “okay” before cuddling closer to him. giving you a soft kiss on the lips he hugged you tighter as you both fell asleep.

OSAMU -

osamu was just having a horrible day, his head was pounding and the customers he had to deal with today were just plain rude. then he had to do most of the work since one of his employees called in sick, and for some reason, everything just annoyed him.

you on the other hand did not know about his day at all and thought it would be nice of you to make a surprise visit. walking in with a huge smile on your face stopping midway when you realize he wasn’t at the counter. “where’s samu?” you asked sweetly to the employee

“he’s in the back, i think he has a headache,” she says giving you a small smile. you can tell something was off by the way she spoke but decided to just brush it off and make your way to the back. “hi samu! surprise!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you make your way towards him

he just kind of looks at you, which you thought was weird, but you decided to hug him anyways. when he doesn’t hug you back and groan, you pull away and look at him “baby i heard you had a headache. i didn’t bring any medicine, but we could eat first and i-” 

you couldn’t even finish your sentence since osamu just stood up. he was infuriated and had no clue why, usually loved listening to you but today he was just annoyed. “look y/n a don’t mean ta be rude, but a don't have the energy for this right now. please just go home.” he said coldly staring right at you.

“excuse me? i came here to surprise you and this is what i get??” you said in shock, voice a little louder this time. rolling his eyes “Oh wow am so surprised! now will ya please go home? a don’t wanna argue right now!” he yelled. with tears forming in your eyes you quickly wiped them and left. osamu knew he shouldn’t have said all that, but he was too mad to run after you in front of all the customers. 

you rushed home and sluggishly made your way to your room to change into something comfier, making your way to the couch, curling up into a ball allowing your tears to fall, and somehow falling asleep, after getting tired of crying. he gets home a few hours later, guilt building up in his stomach as he mentally slaps himself for the things he said. 

walking into the living room he opened the lights and you were the first thing he noticed. seeing you curled up into a ball on the couch made his heart drop to his stomach. you on the other hand woke up because of the sudden change of lighting. 

gradually adjusting your sight you see him and switch your gaze onto the floor when you saw him look at you too. seeing your puffy eyes he walks towards you slowly and sits beside you giving you enough space. “am sorry, a shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on ya.”

you look at him with watery eyes and his heart sinks “yea i was just trying to be nice, sorry i didn’t warn you before coming” he opened his arms and you instinctively scooted closer to him, he sighs “no a love it when you surprise me a was jus having a bad day a love ya so much ok?” finally hugging him “okay i love you too” giving you a quick kiss he offered to make you food and of course you said yes.

OIKAWA -

you love oikawa, and you’re very supportive and understanding especially when it comes to his career. but he has an awful habit of overworking himself and as much as you love him you can't bear the fact that you couldn’t even see him anymore.

he goes home late at night -as in you’re already sound asleep late- and when you do stay up to see him, he’s too tired to even keep a conversation. then the next morning he’s gone before you could even wake up. you’ve spoken to him about this many times, but alas nothing changed.

you woke up to an empty bed as usual, but today was different though, you’ve planned a dinner for about 2 weeks now. you were very excited because it’s been so long since you both spent some quality time together and he promised to come home early. 

getting up you send him a little text reminding him of your dinner tonight, with a smile you head on over to the bathroom to get ready for work. once work was over you made a quick visit to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you’ll need to make tonight’s dinner. 

quietly humming to yourself while going through each aisle, and double-checking your list to make sure you’re not missing anything while checking your phone here and there. oikawa still hasn’t replied “he must be busy,” you say to yourself as you send him another text about the dinner just in case. after about 30 minutes you get home rushing since it was already late, and immediately getting started on dinner. 

once you're done you sat down and waited, and waited, and waited. it's been 4 hours. dinners cold and still no sign of your boyfriend. you decided to call him pissed off that he couldn’t even show up to one dinner, “hello? y/n i can't talk right now i still need to practice” 

he said as soon as he picked up. “tooru? did you get my texts? what about dinner, we’ve made plans for this 2 weeks prior! i even-” you were cut off “look just eat without me ok? we can eat again somet-” now it was your turn to cut him off. 

“oikawa tooru, you leave the house while i’m asleep and come back when i'm asleep. i just wanted to spend time with you..whatever good luck at practice,” you replied as you hang up. his heart sank when he heard the crack in your voice rushing to his car on his way home to you because he knows he fucked up. 

buying your favorite flowers for you on the way home cursing himself and the world for making it traffic at that exact moment. when he got home the first thing he saw was the food and you fast asleep on the couch. he felt a pang of guilt about being late. 

“y/n chan?” he said while gently waking you up. you stare at him with red puffy eyes and he hugged you giving you the flowers “im sorry baby, i should’ve prioritized you and our dinner. i promise ill do better” you saw how genuine he was being so you accepted the flowers and hugged him tighter as he offered to reheat the food you made.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

[marvelatthetwilight]

Baby of our own

Anonymous asked: If your requests are still open could i request one where Paul sees his imprint holding/interacting with her godchild who's still an infant (the kid of her best friend). Maybe he tells her that he wouldn't mind trying for a kid of their own.

"Ready?" You ask Paul, looking over at him in the drivers seat as you pull up outside your best friend's house.

"To meet the famous baby Erin, hell yeah!" Whilst his voice is excited, his face looks nervous as he visibly gulps and gives the steering wheel a squeeze.

"Are you nervous?" You ask, gesturing towards his hands, still gripping onto the wheel tightly. He coughs as he removes his hands, playing it off as anything but nerves. He had a right to be nervous; your best friend Ellie had notoriously high standards and this was the first time your husband and best friend were meeting properly.

"No! Of course not, just excited." You raise your eyebrows at him but accept his excuse, gesturing towards the house as you open the passenger door and step out.

When you first visited La Push beach when visiting your grandparents in Forks, you expected to be returning a couple of weeks later at the end of summer ready for school to start in September. You never expected to still be there 2 years later, and married to the love of your life.

You walk up the steps and hold your hand out for Paul to take, squeezing it in comfort when he's standing beside you. This was the first time that Paul had travelled across the country with you to visit home, everything had been so chaotic with the pack recently that this was the first time you had a chance to escape. Even if he really wasn't feeling nervous, you were. You were desperate for them to get on, and this meeting had been delayed so many times previously. The first time you had to claim contagious illness when the newborn army was on its way to Forks, the next time it was the Volturi and you claimed to have a broken leg in hospital, then at your wedding Ellie was too pregnant to fly. This had to go well.

Knocking at the door you glance at Paul again, offering him a small smile to comfort yourself as much as him.

"Y/N!! Oh I've missed this beautiful face so much!" Ellie grabs you as soon as she opens the door and squeezes you so hard you think you might pop.

"Oh Ellie, I'm so pleased to see you! El, this is Paul, Paul this is Ellie. I can't believe you are finally meeting!" You move to the side to show Paul, standing there holding a gift bag with a cuddly toy sticking out of the top. He holds out his hand to Ellie to shake, she knocks it away and holds out her arms to him for a hug.

"I don't shake hands, I'm a hugger!" She announces as she pulls him in for a quick hug. "So pleased to finally meet you in person. Now let's go get the baby, she's due to wake up any minute from her nap."

You both follow her into the front room where there is a bassinette and the small stirring noises of the tiny baby.

Two hours later - Paul's POV

Y/N is sat on the couch across the room from me with baby Erin wrapped in a blanket in her arms. She looks amazing. A complete natural with babies, and watching her stirs something inside me.

I want a baby.

We've talked about it yeah, but nothing more serious than I want to have three kids. This is more than that. Life has been chaotic to say the least, it's been dramatic, it's thrown a lot at us, but we've made it through. Most importantly it has shown me how different things could have been.

My thoughts are interrupted as Y/N gets up and comes to sit next to me; she lays Erin lengthways on her lap gently squeezing at her cheeks. She's a natural, she looks so beautiful. Her smile is lighting up her face as she plays with Erin.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Y/N asks me, and I look across at her as she covers her eyes, playing peekaboo with Erin.

"She is yes." I reply quietly, my response applying to the two beautiful women in front of me.

When we say our goodbyes and make our way back to the car, Y/N looks deflated, sad that she had to say goodbye to her best friend but also sad at the loss of baby contact.

Sat in the car, I look across at her as she stares out of the window.

"Y/N" I call out quietly to catch her attention and she turns to face me, her eyes watery with tears threatening to spill.

"I think we should have a baby." I say suddenly, her eyes open widely and the threat of tears spill out, dripping quickly down her cheeks.

"What?" She asks in shock. "A baby? I thought we were waiting for things to be more settled?"

I think for a moment. This is true, we did say we would wait. "If what the pack has been through these last few years has taught me anything, it's that we should never take anything for granted. At any moment things could have gone completely differently and one of us may not be here right now. I don't want to wait and that be a mistake. I want us to make the most of every moment."

Tears continue spilling from her cheeks. "A baby of our own?" She asks me, her voice hopeful and emotional.

I nod and she leans forward to kiss me. "Yup, a baby of our own."

She quickly puts her seatbelt on and then leans across to do mine.

"What are you doing?" I ask her laughing.

"We need to get home. We've got a baby to make!"

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