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theskywaslookingback · 3 years ago

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[AO3]

“Why do you even have that?”

Sasha looks up from her laptop to give Jon a quizzical look. They’ve been deep in a research hole for hours now, Jon with his files spread out before him like a buffet and Sasha picking her way through line after line of code to access things that she really shouldn’t be able to access - although, the government should have better security if it didn’t want to get hacked so she tried not to feel too badly about it. Jon’s not looking at his files now though, his gaze appears to be drawn to her shoe-box sized kitchen.

“Why do I have what?” She asks, “A kitchen?”

“No, the--” He flicks his fingers in a vague gesture to the counter, and his eyebrows pull together in a fetching little wrinkle that Sasha desperately wants to smooth away with her thumb, “the absolutely massive thing you have taking up half your kitchen.”

“Oh!” Sasha says, and then starts to laugh.

The stand mixer is large, honestly, too big to store in the meagre storage space of her cabinets and taking up half the countertop next to the stove. It’s also a garish bright red, loud against the backdrop of beige walls and a white lino countertop. She wonders why on earth Jon’s bringing this up now, they’ve been working for hours now and this certainly isn’t the first time he’s visited her flat, and decides the answer to simply be that ‘it’s Jon, he’s probably just never noticed.’

He’s fully scowling at her now, in a way she knows is defensive. He probably thinks she’s making fun of him. He can be so sensitive. “Sorry,” She says when she stops laughing long enough to speak, “I think you just caught me off guard. It was cute.”

“Cute?” Jon starts to sputter, the tips of his ears darkening and his nose wrinkling.

He is cute, Sasha thinks.

She waves it off. “It was a wedding present. That’s one of the big ones, I think, for most people. First thing I added to the registry.”

Jon couldn’t look more blind-sided if he’d been hit by a lorry. He even drops his pen, staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re married?”

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be daft. Does it look like I’m living with someone?”

Jon looks around anyway like he’s looking for evidence. “Divorced?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ with extra emphasis and grinning at the helpless confusion radiating from her friend.

“Then--” Jon trails off. He looks at the stand mixer again, like maybe it holds the answers he’s seeking. He looks back at her, and then down at his files. Suddenly his head jerks up and he says, “Wait, have you ever even been engaged?” He says this so seriously it tugs at Sasha’s heart. His eyes narrow like he’s caught her in some kind of trap, as though that wasn’t what she was expecting.

Sasha grins. “No.”

Jon looks at her incredulously, like he’s fitting together a bunch of puzzle pieces in his mind. It’s fun. Jon is so fun. “Sasha, did you fake an engagement just to get a stand mixer?”

“Yes!” Sasha slams her laptop shut and points at Jon, “But do not tell my great aunt that, do you understand? It took me years of work to get that stand mixer, Jon!”

Jon stares at her silently for just a moment, absolutely bewildered, before he dissolves into laughter, curling in on himself and digging his fingers into his sides. It shakes his shoulders and Sasha swears there’s tears in his eyes and before she knows it she’s laughing too, hard enough it hurts her chest and blurs her vision. To an outside viewer they must look positively loony. It takes ages for them to stop and gather themselves back together. Jon takes off his glasses to wipe tears away from his eyes while Sasha rubs at her face and tries to stop the giggles that keep bubbling up when she looks at Jon.

“God,” Jon says at last, “I haven’t laughed like that in--” he clears his throat, “anyway.”

“Yes,” Sasha agrees, “anyway.”

She looks at the clock and is both shocked and completely unsurprised that it’s after midnight.

Jon must follow her gaze because she hears him utter a quiet, “good lord.”

She’s dangerously close to laughing again.

Jon starts to shuffle his files away back into their folders. “Later than I thought.” He says.

Sasha hums in agreement, putting her laptop away and sorting her notes into neat piles. “No use trying to get home this late, you might as well just stay the night.”

“Ah,” Jon’s nose does that cute wrinkle thing again, and Sasha’s lips twitch, “that’s quite alright. I’m sure I can just find a cab.”

“Could do,” Sasha agrees, “but it’d be easier if you stayed. I’ve got an extra toothbrush and everything. Plus, tomorrow is Saturday so it’s not like we have to rush back to work or anything.”

Jon’s got all his things put back in his messenger bag, a solid olive green canvas affair that Sasha privately thinks is dreadful looking. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your weekend. I’m sure you have plans.” He’s stalling, looking for a reason not to go. Sasha wishes he’d just tell her what he wants.

She smiles, because Jon isn’t easy but she knows him and she likes him anyway, “Well, I was going to put that stand mixer to work and make myself some bread. But other than that--” She shrugs.

Jon’s eyes go once more to that bright red piece of kitchen equipment. “You make your own bread?”

“Sure. It’s cheaper and it tastes better.”

Jon makes a thoughtful noise. “Well, I suppose… that is, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Lovely,” Sasha beams, and then adds slyly, “I’ve even got some of Tim’s things you can sleep in.”

Jon goes properly red at that and buries his face in his hands with a groan.

Sasha busies herself with getting her ingredients together while Jon wakes up. Before they’d become friends she’d always just kind of assumed he’d be a morning person. He had that air about him at work, sharp and alert even when she was still trying to get her head on. The truth is that while Jon has difficulties getting to sleep, he would happily sleep until mid-afternoon if she let him, so she makes sure to wake him at a decent hour and then goes back to check and make sure he hasn’t fallen back asleep. Since her flat is basically a glorified closet, and Jon sleeps on the sofa, this is not a hard task to keep an eye on.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jon comes and sits himself down at what she generously calls a kitchen table. His hair hangs in curls around his shoulders and he impatiently pushes a hand through it where it covers his face. He’s still sleepy-eyed, the sleeves of Tim’s jumper she’d let him borrow pooling around his hands.

“Good morning.” She says with amusement.

He grunts, flopping into a rickety chair. “Coffee?” He asks.

“All out. Tea alright?”

He nods.

“Great. Kettle is over there.” She gestures vaguely to the area next to the fridge, “Tea is top cabinet.”

Jon sighs, like it’s a great effort for him to make his own tea, but offers no further complaint as he retrieves the kettle and fills it with water.

With Jon out of the way Sasha appropriates the table for more space to set out her scale and bowls. She won’t need anything too fancy today so it doesn’t take long to get set up. She hears the kettle and turns around just in time to see Jon half-way climbing onto the counter. “Jon!” She scolds, similar to the way she would her cat when she was a child.

He freezes and gives her a sheepish grin. “You said top cabinet.”

She did, and she hadn’t thought about the almost foot of height she had on Jon. She snorts and waves him down. “Grab the mugs, I’ll get the tea then.”

He grumbles something about doing it himself but obliges, plucking two mugs from the drying rack.

“Green tea alright?”

Jon makes a dismissive noise. “Black?”

“Out.”

“I’m taking you shopping after this, Sasha James, this is downright unacceptable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She hands him the box of tea bags and he rolls his eyes at her, muttering as he fills their mugs with water.

“Do you at least have milk?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god.”

Sasha rolls her eyes and gets back to her scale, weighing out her dry ingredients.

“Why are you doing it like that?”

“By weight?”

Jon hums.

“It’s more accurate by weight than by volume, typically.”

“You can’t just, I don’t know, eye-ball it?”

“Jonathan Sims have you ever baked anything in your entire life?”

She takes the jerky shrug he gives in response as a no. She shakes her head and dumps her flour and yeast into the mixing bowl of her stand mixer. Jon hovers there at her shoulder, watching, so close she can almost feel his breath.

It gives her a wicked idea.

She reaches a hand up, like she’s checking something, and then flicks the mixer on high.

Flour explodes from the mixing bowl in a cloud of white, covering her and Jon and the countertop.

The little shriek Jon gives will stay with her for a very long time.

“Why?” He asks, mouth agape and positively covered in flour.

“Because I knew it would be funny.” Sasha says, laughing. There’s flour in her hair, and she’ll definitely need to wash her clothes, but the look in Jon’s wide eyes and the slowly blooming smile on his face is worth it.

It takes less time than she thinks to get everything clean again, and the second time she even allows Jon to help her measure ingredients and start the mixer. He’s very serious about the whole thing, watching the scale with a grim kind of determination like it would mean death if he added just a bit too much yeast to the dough, but it’s the most fun Sasha’s had in forever. By the end of the day she has enough bread to wrap a loaf up for Jon to take home, and he looks at her like she’s just given him the greatest gift he’s ever received.

“Same time next week?” She asks as she wraps his scarf around his neck.

“I suppose.” He says, ducking his head to avoid the kiss she tries to plant on his cheek. “If you’re amenable.”

“I’m amenable.” She says, and kisses the top of his head anyway.

Sasha watches him leave and Jon turns back at the end of the hallway to wave, before disappearing into the stairwell. She laughs, bright and happy, and closes the door.

#fic #my fic #jonathan sims #sasha james #days before; unwinding

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lawrenceop · 4 years ago

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HOMILY for 14th Sun after Pentecost (Dominican rite)

Gal 5:16-24; Matt 6:24-33

Last weekend, the Dominican friars of this community elected me as their prior, entrusting me with responsibility and care for the material and spiritual needs of our religious house. Like any other household or family of human beings, we have material needs – food, clothing, heating, and so on – and spiritual needs – time for recreation together, time in prayer and contemplation, attention to the public liturgy, works of penance, study, and so on. For human beings are a unique unit of body and soul, and so we have bodily demands as well as spiritual needs, and both must be met. In my first week as prior, therefore, a considerable amount of time has been spent with the brothers, listening to them, talking and building up relationships. But even more time has been spent making financial decisions, planning fundraising, speaking with contractors who will soon be undertaking essential repairs and restoration of the apse and the High Altar, and examining the budget. Will we have enough for food and drink, and clothing, and all our other bodily essentials? All these are the matters which have concerned me in the past week.

So today’s Gospel is very timely. The temptation is to read the Gospel (and indeed, the epistle) in a somewhat dualistic way, as though the body and its needs do not really matter – after all, some will say, the spirit is what matters; eternal life is all important. However, although eternity and friendship with God in heaven is our goal, it strikes me as heretical to speak like this and to simply denigrate the necessities of the body. After all, the Word became flesh, and assumed a human body, becoming Incarnate in the Virgin Mother’s womb. Therefore our holy father St Dominic and his sons combatted the Albigensian heretics of his time who elevated the spirit over the body, and indeed, believed that human bodies imprisoned the soul. Instead the Dominican Order championed the goodness of material creation, the beauty of the human person, body and soul, and venerated the Incarnation. Among the practices popularised by the Order was the daily Angelus which focusses us on the Incarnation of Christ, literally, the en-fleshing of the divine Word of God.

As such, we must understand properly the words of St Paul in the epistle: “walk by the Spirit, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh.” (Gal 5:16). When St Paul refers to “the desires of the flesh” he does not mean merely the natural needs of the human body, say for food and drink and shelter. Rather, as his list of the “works of the flesh” make clear, he refers to the sinful and disordered desires of the body, not just for those material things that we need in order to live and to thrive but, moreover, the concupiscent desires for excess, for comforts, for pleasures which indulge our bodies. These lead to avarice, and envy, and the love of money which, as St Paul says is “the root of all evil.” (1 Tim 6:10) Therefore, the Constitutions of the Dominican Order reminds us that “we [friars] have decided to be poor both in fact and in spirit, so that while we endeavour to free people from domination by wealth and so direct them towards the things of the spirit, we ourselves may also conquer greed, imitating Christ.” (LCO 31 §1)

So, a right understanding of St Paul’s exhortation in the epistle and of the Gospel takes us closer to Christ, the Incarnate Word, who shares in our humanity and knows our fundamental human needs both of body and of spirit. For, as God he made the whole material universe and designed us in this way as bodily creatures who will know the goodness and beauty and majesty of God through his material creation. And, as Man, Christ experienced hunger and thirst as well as the natural desire for friendship and love. Hence, in the Gospel, Jesus says concerning material things such as food and drink and clothing that “your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” (Mt 6:32) Indeed, the Son of God knows these human needs through his own sacred body.

But the Lord knows, most importantly, our fundamental human need, which is for true relationships, for friendship, for love, and thus, for salvation. We need to be saved from our sins, from our fallen selves, from the lusts of the flesh. For every sin isolates us and, as St Augustine says, turns us in on ourselves and away from others. Therefore, salvation is found in not selfishly gratifying the flesh, as St Paul put it, but, rather, in being led outwards in love and in genuine Christian friendship towards others. As St Paul says: “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal 5:22-23) Salvation, therefore, is found in putting right the desires of the flesh, so that our desires are moderated, balanced, tempered and healed by grace. Thus the Lord says: “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.” (Mt 6:33) In other words, before we worry about what I want, and worry about my needs, think first of what God wants, and of what my neighbour needs.

St Teresa of Kolkata put it beautifully and profoundly: “There’s two kinds of poverty. We have the poverty of material; for example, in some places like in India, Ethiopia and other places, where the people are hungry for a loaf of bread – real hunger. But there is a much deeper, much greater hunger; and that is the hunger for love, and that terrible loneliness and being unwanted, unloved – being abandoned by everybody.” My brothers and sisters, this hunger has become more severe. There is a famine of love in our society, and the internet and its deceptions haven’t brought us closer but instead drives a wedge between us and polarises our conversations. But no matter how little we may have materially, we can still give ourselves to others in love, in friendship, in care. I learnt this essential lesson from the poorest of the poor in the slums of Manila, almost 20 years ago, and I have never forgotten the love they showed me. For this is what Christ has done for sinful humanity: Christ has enriched us with his grace, with his friendship, with his love. Hence St Paul says: “For our sake [Christ] became poor, that by his poverty we might become rich.” (2 Cor 8:9)

The richness that Christ gives to you and to me through his Incarnation is the grace of divine Sonship. And this is the core of today’s Gospel. Why is it that we need not become anxious about our physical well-being and needs? Christ says that the pagans worry about such things, and indeed, they become fraught, and they fight, and they plot to gain more riches and financial security at all costs. In other words, they place their trust in insurances and in the God of Mammon, wealth. But Christians, as children of a loving and provident God, are invited to take on the mind of Christ the Son who entrusted everything in body and soul to the Father, both at Gethsemane, and then again on the Cross: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” (Lk 23:46) This surrender to divine providence, trusting in God’s goodness, God’s plan, God’s wisdom is the fundamental attitude of the Son, and we pray that God’s Holy Spirit gives to each of this same grace of surrendering to the providence of God. As St John Henry Newman said: “Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see/ The distant scene—one step enough for me… I was not ever thus, nor pray’d that thou/ Shouldst lead me on./ I loved to choose and see my path; but now, /Lead thou me on!”

So the Dominican Constitutions tells me: “this spirit of poverty urges us to put our treasure in the kingdom of God’s justice, with a lively trust in the Lord” in order that, as St Augustine’s Rule says, “enduring love will govern all matters pertaining to the fleeting necessities of life.” This is my goal as a Dominican friar, as prior, and also most importantly, as a Christian. Surely this is your goal too, that enduring love should govern all that we do and all that we desire in this life so that we shall be possessed by Love himself in the everlasting life of heaven.

#trust #providence #love #relationship #riches

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bat-famzine · 5 years ago

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Happy Thanksgiving to our followers in the US! We hope you can enjoy some hearty food and fun time with friends and family.

How does the Batfam celebrate Thanksgiving? What are their favorite foods? Check out the incredible @preciousthingsareprecious‘s take on a Batfam Thanksgiving celebration below the cut! Don’t forget to preorder a copy of the zine here to read more of her work, as well as amazing art and writing from our other contributors!

Jason’s attention was split. A small speaker rested on the counter behind him, the rising and falling voice of a narrator flowing from it as they read The Andromeda Evolution to the room. Below him on the counter he worked dough, kneading it with growing confidence. His apron, the counter, and the floor were all dusted with flour, spread in a mess he was not looking forward to cleaning up.

As the narrator moved into a long technical explanation Jason’s mind wandered back to the dough under his palms. It had been a long time since he’d made rolls from scratch, or any bread beyond quick easy ones-- like those that were just a batter thrown in a loaf pan and baked-- so he’d been nervous when he’d decided that if he was going to do this, he’d do it right. Still, his hands and arms remembered the repetitive push and pull of working the dough, even if the last time he’d done it was when he’d been a kid.

When he’d lived at the manor, it had become somewhat of a tradition for Jason to help with the rolls. He figured Alfred set him to them because kneading took such energy, but he’d loved it all the same. He loved cooking in general. More than that, he’d loved that it seemed to bring everyone together. He and Alfred, and then on holidays where there was much to be done, Bruce would join them for the easier tasks and chatting.

He smiled at those memories, holidays had been much quieter when he was Robin than what he was expecting today. The family had grown so much since then.

His smile turned down and he rolled his eyes, they were all still idiots though, nothing would change that. If not, he’d be in the kitchen at the manor helping Alfred cook and not settled into his own apartment with far too little counter space for all his needs.

The narrator moved from their technical description back to the team in the jungle and Jason let thoughts of family past and present fall away as he listened. He rolled the dough into a loose ball and moved to get his greased bowl, depositing the dough into it, and covering the whole thing with a towel before setting it aside to rise.

As Jason set it down, the doorbell rang. He tapped pause on the app playing the book and wiped his hands on his apron before moving to the door. When he opened it a burst of chilly air washed over him.

“Heya, Squirt.” Jason said to a somewhat anxious looking Damian standing at his doorway.

He scowled at the nickname, anxiety falling away as his obligation to be irritated with any name beyond his given taking precedence over worries. His arms were crossed across his chest against the cold, making him look small and alone in the doorway.

Jason stepped back, smiling at the kid, “Come on in.”

Damian hurried inside, and stopped short, looking around the apartment utterly bedecked in pumpkins, leaves, and crackling candles. Jason let his grin grow at Damian’s surprise.

“What, did you think I’d invite you over for Thanksgiving and not roll out the red carpet?”

Damian turned on him, “I was under the impression that most people do not decorate for Thanksgiving.”

Jason shrugged, closing the door, “I’m not most people. Besides, it’s not every day I’m the one having family over for a holiday.”

“Then you did not only invite me?” It was a question, sharp enough to say he knew the answer.

He wagged a finger at Damian, and moved back towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Come on, I didn’t have you come early so you could loiter at the door.”

“Todd.” Damian demanded, stomping after him, “What kind of plan have you cooked up this time?”

Jason was already busy, pulling an assortment of fruit out of the fridge to set on one of the counters, “I’m going to need to you slice all of this into bite size bits for the fruit salad.”

“Jason.”

It was the use of his name, and the worry in Damian’s voice that made Jason turn his full attention onto his youngest brother. The anxious look Damian had on his face when he’d been at the door was back, more obvious this time than last.

“If you have invited everyone then I will not be able to--”

“Stop that.” Jason said, interrupting him, “This is why it’s me hosting this year, because you lot all got it in your heads that it would be better if everyone celebrated without you.”

“You lot?” Damian asked, brows knit, “Do you mean to say that I was not the only one to have claimed alternate plans to Father?”

Jason nodded. He’d called Alfred a week ago to confirm Thanksgiving plans and see when he was expected to arrive and learned that everyone had mysterious ‘other engagements’. A few calls later and Jason had learned that each and every one of his siblings had opted out of the holiday festivities in an attempt to make the day better for someone else, leaving Bruce and Alfred alone. The lot of them were self sacrificing to a fault. On Thanksgiving of all days. The idiots.

“Thanksgiving is about family.” Jason said, tossing an apple at Damian, “Peel those before you slice them,” he added three more to the growing stack of fruit on the counter, “Family and time spent being thankful you’ve got them in your life, and I’m not letting any of you skip out because we’ve all got the conversation skills of rocks.”

Damian still hadn’t moved, apple cradled in his hands, “If I had known...I did not wish Father and Pennyworth to be alone.” his voice was tight, slightly strained like he was fighting with emotions.

Jason moved over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright. It’s sorted and everyone’s coming over.” he grinned at Damian, “Alfred and I will make sure of that. I’ve got the adults bringing stuff, so pull your weight and help me out.”

They worked in tandem, Damian following Jason’s instructions as he gave them, and showing a lot of promise in the kitchen. Jason made a mental note to have the kid help him more often when the opportunity presented itself. To avoid too much silence Jason switched the book on his speaker to something he knew Damian was interested in. They listened and worked together as a new voice filled the room, spinning tales of fantastic events.

When another knock at the door resounded above the narrator’s voice, Jason paused it.

“That’ll be Dick. Get the door for me?” he said, checking on now risen dough.

He smiled to himself as he heard Dick’s surprised exclamation and rolled his eyes at Damian’s playful complaints of being “worked to the bone”. The two chatted with animated voices while Jason finished rolling individual rolls and setting them aside for their second rise. He turned just in time for Damian to lead Dick into the kitchen, the man carrying a large bowl of mashed potatoes.

“Now I see why you told me to bring enough for ten.” he said, grinning, “What’d you do, team up with Alfred to plot all this?”

Jason grinned at him and winked, making Dick choke on a laugh, “I should have known. Careful or you’ll be hosting every year.”

It was a warning Jason wasn’t sure he’d heed. Even with the few of them there, the feeling of the day was warm and comforting. He found himself looking forward to the chaos sure to fill his little apartment in a way he hadn’t looked forward to anything in a long time.

Everyone else filtered in slowly after that. Tim, Cass, and Steph came together having bumped into one another on the way bringing drinks and stuffing. Then Duke with a casserole looking much like something Alfred had made.

People milled around, Tim hijacked Jason’s speaker and started playing music, and Damian (now protective of the kitchen and his place helping) shooed out anyone trying to sneak an early bite of dinner. It was a tight fit in Jason’s apartment, but comfortable. And everyone was smiling, despite all the worries of “If I’m here I’ll fight with them” and “It would be more peaceful if I did not come”. Jason fully expected some kind of spat to happen at some point, but what was a family gathering without a little bit of mess?

Jason left his youngest brother stirring the gravy to greet Bruce and Alfred when they arrived. Each carried one of Alfred’s famous pies. Alfred had a delighted twinkle in his eye and Bruce looked startled but happy.

“I never doubted you for a moment.” Alfred said, patting Jason on the shoulder before taking Bruce’s pie from him and moving to the kitchen to leave them together.

When they were alone Bruce cast his eyes around the group, “You got everyone together?”

“Alfred helped.” Jason said.

“But you spearheaded it.”

Jason shrugged, at a loss for words. Which was silly, it wasn’t like he’d done anything huge or dug them out single handedly from rubble or something. He’d just tricked everyone into coming over for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Thanks.” Bruce said, and tugged him into a hug, “It’s good to have everyone together.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Old Man.” Jason said clearing his throat of the sudden tightness there, “Alfred threatened not to bake at all if the whole family didn’t come.”

This made his dad laugh, “Nothing motivates like Alfred’s pies.”

“We should try bribing criminals with them.” Jason said.

“Todd!” Damian’s head poked from the kitchen, his nose was smeared with what could be either mashed potatoes or whipped cream, “Your assistance is required in the kitchen.” his eyes caught onto Bruce, “Oh, hello, Father.”

“Damian.” Bruce nodded, “You’ve got a bit of uh.” he motioned to his nose.

Damian’s eyes just about crossed to look at his nose before he wiped a hand across it, “It is Drake’s fault. Both of you come, or the whole meal will be ruined.”

Jason waved him back in, and turned back to Bruce, “That’s our cue, ready to go save the day?”

Bruce nodded, “Lead the way.”

#batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batgirl #alfred pennyworth #duke thomas #fanzine #batfamily #batfam

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calvarycommunitychurch-blog · 5 years ago

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7 things to look for when reading through the Bible - Focus on the Family

This is a great article from Focus on the Family Canada. Credit for the content goes to Written by Subby Szterszky and the original article can be found here.

This is it – the year you finally read through the entire Bible. Sure, you’ve tried before and gotten bogged down by the spring thaw or the law codes in Leviticus. But this time, you’ve found the ideal Bible reading plan: well-balanced, realistic and tailored to your reading habits. You’ve prayed about it and enlisted an accountability partner to keep you on track.

All of which is fantastic. But in order to see it through to the end – and more important, to benefit from the experience – you need to read with anticipation, with your eyes, your heart and your mind attuned to what the Spirit of God is saying through his Word.

To aid in that process, here are seven things to look for as you embark (or continue) on your scriptural odyssey. There are more than seven, of course, but seven is a nice biblical number and these are a good place to start. They’ll help keep your reading plan from becoming a drudgery and ensure it remains a joyful path of discovery throughout the year.

God

It may appear self-evident that readers of God’s Word should first seek him within its pages. And yet, people typically approach the Bible by asking, “What does this passage say about me, and how does it apply to my life?” Those are valid questions, up to a point, but they’re not the most important ones. In fact, they can be used to distort the meaning of a passage by reading one’s own experiences into it.

That’s because from start to finish, the Bible isn’t primarily about us, but about God. To be sure, Scripture has much to say about human nature and culture and history. But it addresses all those subjects solely with respect to God.

Through human language and the written word, the Creator of the universe has chosen to reveal himself – his character, power and purposes – to his human creatures. He has told us who we are, why we’re here, and how we can be what he created us to be, in a loving relationship with him.

And so, the first questions to ask when reading anything in the Bible are: “What does this say about God? What does it reveal about who he is, what he’s done and continues to do? How does it help me know him and trust him and love him more?”

Grace

There’s a common misconception, even among professing Bible believers, that the Old Testament is all about law, whereas the New Testament is all about grace. In fact, an early heretic named Marcion went so far as to claim that the two Testaments portrayed two different gods: an inferior god of judgment in the Old and a superior god of love in the New.

The Scriptures themselves will have none of that, of course. The Old Testament echoes with a repeated description of God as “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Jesus himself, although full of grace and truth, also spoke at length about judgment and raised the bar of righteousness to include motives of the heart as well as outward actions.

Both Testaments portray God as eternal and unchanging, his law and grace forever intertwined, his love and judgment meeting at the Cross of Christ. To read the Bible is to discover and trace that braid of divine justice and kindness through all its turns, finally displayed perfectly in the person of Jesus.

Challenge

The essence of idolatry is the desire to domesticate God, to make the Creator more like his creation, easier to comprehend and to control. But the God of the universe will not fit into our boxes, whether personal, cultural or theological. In fact, he declares that his ways and his thoughts are as far above ours as the heavens are above the earth.

It’s not surprising, then, that his Word should contain things not only difficult but at times downright disturbing. Such things will vary depending on the assumptions of each culture, but they’ll always be present. For people in the 21st century, the Bible’s sexual ethos, its tolerance of slavery in the ancient world, and its portrayal of genocidal warfare are especially difficult to square with the idea of a just and loving God.

In the eyes of the wider culture, such passages may be deal breakers, but for followers of Jesus, they’re challenges. Strange customs, lengthy genealogies, and even the conquest of Canaan invite readers to think deeply, pray earnestly, embrace mystery and recognize that God is bigger than us. As Tim Keller observes, “If your god never disagrees with you, you might just be worshipping an idealized version of yourself.”

Beauty

God is beautiful, and he has designed his cosmos to reflect his beauty. It only follows that his written Word should do likewise. Its accounts brim with grandeur and glory along with moments of quiet intimacy to melt the heart and comfort the soul. It paints word pictures of a world that’s fallen and yet enjoying the kindness and care of its Sovereign Lord.

But beyond their divinely inspired content, the Scriptures are beautiful in themselves as literature, their varied styles equally inspired by God. Contrary to common belief, the Bible isn’t a textbook on science or history or even theology. Nor is it an instruction manual on morals and ethics and successful living. To be sure, it touches on all those subjects and many more besides. But it does so in the form of artful writing.

It’s no accident that God chose to record a significant chunk of his Word as historical narrative and poetry, rather than as didactic instruction. He designed it to appeal to the whole person, the heart and the imagination as well as the mind. To read it any other way is to miss at least part of its message.

Diversity

In the natural world, beauty expresses itself through diversity, and once again it’s the same with Scripture. The Bible is a library of 66 documents, written on three continents over some 1,500 years. Its human authors represent a wide range of temperaments and social classes, each writing to address the issues of their day.

Inspired by the Holy Spirit, these authors wrote in an eclectic variety of genres: war stories, pastoral romances, songs of love, songs of lament, prayers, letters, biographies, travelogues, memoirs and apocalyptic visions, among others.

Such a diverse array of genres cannot be read with a one-size-fits-all approach, and it’s hard to imagine why anyone would want to do so. Like the many flavours at a fine feast, they’re meant to be savoured, both for their own qualities and for how they blend with one another. Each one speaks with its own voice, and yet contributes its own unique facet to the overall message of Scripture. Discovering that unity, expressed through diversity, is one of the genuine pleasures of reading through the Bible.

Unity

Every great story worth following has a central plot line, a unifying narrative that frames it and gives it structure. There may be subplots and asides, but that main storyline winds throughout, by turns hidden and exposed, and it pulls the reader toward its conclusion.

The central narrative of the Bible can be summarized as a drama in four acts: Creation, Fall, Redemption and Restoration. From a human perspective, it began in the Garden, reached its climax at the Cross, and will conclude in the New Jerusalem, in the New Heaven and New Earth. From a divine perspective, it was written in the mind of God before he made the cosmos, and will resonate into eternity, to his glory.

Because of the wonderful diversity in Scripture, it’s tempting to think of its many parts as vignettes in an anthology, at best only loosely related to each other. But in truth, they combine to form a unified mosaic from their various literary shades and colours. The main storyline winds through them all, at times clear and at other times subtle, but always there. And thus, when reading the Bible, it’s always crucial to ask, “What does this passage bring to the central narrative of Creation, Fall, Redemption and Restoration?”

Gospel

It’s fitting to conclude this list where it began, by looking for God in the Scriptures. And that means looking for Christ and the Gospel. Such a search is by no means limited to the New Testament, nor is it an exercise in speculative interpretation.

There are, of course, the overt Messianic prophecies that are quoted as such in the New Testament. But it goes deeper than that. After Jesus rose from the dead, he began to teach his disciples everything that was written about him in the Law, the Prophets and the Psalms. For 1st-century Jews, this threefold description was shorthand for the entire scope of the Old Testament. In other words, Jesus was claiming that all of Scripture was about him, in one sense or another.

We need to be careful here. Jesus was not inviting his followers to dig for Gospel metaphors behind every horse and sword and city wall and loaf of bread in the Old Testament. But he was directing them to recognize that all the Scriptures – every narrative account, genealogy and poetic image – in some way points to him and anticipates his coming.

It could hardly be otherwise, given that Jesus is the protagonist as well as the fulfillment of the grand narrative of Creation, Fall, Redemption and Restoration.

Depending on our tastes, temperament and cultural background, different parts of the Bible will strike us in different ways. Some passages will captivate and inspire, while others will perplex and challenge. But viewed through the lens of the Gospel, all of it will open new vistas on the goodness, wisdom and beauty of God. And therein lies the point – as well as the pleasure – of reading through the Bible.

Sources and further reading

Haven’t yet found that perfect Bible reading plan? Here are links to a few reading plans, devotionals and other resources to help you on your journey through the Scriptures.

Bible Gateway

Bible Project

Biblica: The International Bible Society

English Standard Version (ESV)

Focus on the Family Canada

Read Scripture App

She Reads Truth

YouVersion Bible App

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rayewriting · 6 years ago

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Violation Pt. 2

Fandom: Batman

Note: So, I did that sequel thing, I was requested by a lovely anon. And I don’t really know any Middle Eastern foods, but wanted to accommodate Damian’s non-lethal culture, so if I am wrong let me know, I don’t want to offend anybody

Tim knew he screwed up, okay? He knew it as soon as he hit send.

Alfred and Jason left for the kitchen after Dick and Damian, leaving Bruce and Tim to talk. Bruce turned to Tim, face and voice grave, “Tim, I understand why you hacked into the network; it was an unidentified and you wanted to make sure it was safe. But what I don’t understand is why you looked through his files, let alone sending some of them to people. That is a major breech of security and trust. You both were getting along too, and that just destroyed everything that you both worked so hard for.”

Bruce made sure to bring the hammer down, a month of no patrolling (barring emergencies), no Titans, no computer access, and he was immediately sent to his room till stated otherwise. He heard Bruce getting up, probably to go to the Batcave or to check on Damian, but Tim wasn’t really processing Bruce’s movement, too busy in his head. When he exited the library, he heard Damian refuse to leave room, and Tim couldn’t wrap his head around that.

He just did not understand Damian’s reaction. Screaming? Of course. Slamming doors? It was a day that ended in ‘y’, was it not? Damian holing himself in his room? Only after a fight or being told off. So why was Damian in his room now? He wasn’t in trouble and he wasn’t yelled at; so, why the theatrics?

After talking to Dick though, Tim understood. Tim’s actions were not acceptable, he had disturbed a place where Damian felt safe, felt like he could be himself.

Damian was acting like Tim was going to throw open his door, take all his stuff and…

Well… that is exactly what Tim did, isn’t it? But instead of doing it to Damian’s physical room, he did it to Damian’s online safe place. The one Dick gave to Damian, the one Dick trusted Damian to use wisely.

And Tim kicked in the door, pried into all of its nooks and crannies, then- to make it worse- Tim took something personal and shared it with everybody.

When he reached his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and let his head rest in his hands.

Two days of strict bedroom only suspension, Bruce walks into Tim’s room with a, “You are allowed to leave your room; but you will not speak to Damian till he is ready for you to,” and leaves for his day at the office. It takes Tim a minute for the words to sink in, then he timidly opens his door and walks into the hall and heads to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Ah, good morning, Master Timothy. Breakfast will be done shortly please take a seat in the dining room. Masters Dick and Damian will be joining momentarily,” Alfred instructs as he finishes prepping the dishes.

Tim freezes at Alfred’s words and asks, “Damian? I thought I wasn’t supposed to see him till he wants to? Does he know that I will be at breakfast?”

Alfred hums as he walks around to a different counter to pick at some dish, “I believe Master Bruce said for you not to speak to him, and Master Dick has told Master Damian about your presence or he would have already been down. Also, meeting in a neutral territory would perhaps ease Master Damian’s nerves.”

Tim nods and hesitantly sits in his chair as Alfred begins to lay out the dishes. Soon Dick and Damian are walking in the room, Damian sitting as far as he could from Tim and Dick sitting in between them. Upon seeing the meal that has been laid out, Damian’s expression brightens as he spots a bowl of Ful Medames, loaf of Za’atar Manouche, feta cheese and olives on a side platter, and Moroccan mint tea, after taking a look at everything Damian turns to Alfred and says, “Thank you for the meal, Pennyworth. It looks marvelous.”

Dick smiling at the boy asks, “What is all this? I don’t think I have eaten this before.”

Alfred opened his mouth to answer Dick’s question, but Damian cut him off, sounding slightly excited, “This is a Middle-Eastern breakfast. The bowl is Ful Medames which is an Egyptian dish, it has boiled fava beans, chopped tomatoes, green onions, lemon juice, and garlic with some other spices, it’s texture is between soup and dip.” The teen points to the bread, “The Za’artar Manouche is a Levantine bread that Pennyworth as topped with a series of spice which is called Za’artar. The bread can be served with an array of toppings and/or dips.” Finally, pointing at the tea, he says, “If what I think is true, then this is Moroccan mint tea, usually served as a social tea, mainly sold at cafes.” After his explanation, Damian looks at his lap and whispers out, “I can’t remember the last time I had something like this.”

Tim, who has been staring at the food the whole time, can feel his heart reach out for the kid.

Because that was what Damian was. A kid. A traumatized child. A traumatized child that Tim had hurt in a similar way that his mother did.

And if that didn’t make Tim hate himself even more, nothing could. But he did hate himself more.

That meal left Tim in silence as Damian, Dick, and Alfred told eachother their plans for the day. Damian and Dick were going to give Batcow a wash, and Alfred was restocking all the medical supplies in the Cave.

When Tim was done, food tasting like ash in his mouth, his dishes left with Alfred, he heads towards to the in-home gym and pounds in a punching bag so hard his knuckles bruise, he runs on the treadmill so long his legs are cramping with overuse, and he does as many crunches as he can before his body gives out and can’t move anymore.

As he stares at the ceiling from his place on the ground, Tim thinks about how Damian sounded like Tim did as his first few months of being Robin. How scary it was, how he thought that he was unwanted. Then he turns on his side despite his protesting muscles and cries; cries for his little brother’s traumas, the ones that leaves scars all up and down his body, the ones Tim never paid attention to- he never wanted to.

He cries for the child that Damian never has been and never could be.

He cries for the child that Damian yearns to be.

After a couple more days of Damian and Tim dancing around eachother, Dick has to head back to Bludhaven and thus left Damian and Tim with no buffer. Damian becomes more confident as Tim doesn’t try to enter his hallway. Tim becomes very careful treading in the Manor, not scared- just cautious- not wanting to upset Damian.

After lunch two weeks after what Tim dubs “The Incident” Damian walks over to Tim and just stares at him, and Tim—Tim doesn’t know what to do. Does he smile? Wave? Sneak out?

But before Tim can make a decision, Damian makes one for him as the young teen asks timidly, “…Why?”

Tim’s shoulders sag as the question rings in the dining room for a minute, then he carefully looks Damian in the eyes and begins to explain, “When I first looked at the layout of the computer network, I recognized it similar to the League’s and was worried we were compromised. Then I went to Jason—”

Quickly, Damian cuts him off and asks, “Why did you not come to me? I have had more training with the League than Todd has.”

Frustrated, Tim sighs, collecting his thoughts then brings up, “I didn’t know where you were, and when Jason is here, he is either in the kitchen or library. Plus, we have been getting along recently, I-I didn’t want to jeopardize that.”

Damian gives Tim a incredulous look and points out, “You didn’t want to bother me, yet not ten minutes later you send my personal playlists to everyone? You are as stupid as I thought Drake.”

Tim bristles at the insults but stops himself from lashing out- figuring that, yeah, it does sound stupid, the Demon has a point- and continues without acknowledging the remark, “When I finally hacked into your system, I didn’t know it was yours. It wasn’t till I found those playlists that it occurred to me that it was a personal computer network, and when I recognized it as yours, I just…” Tim trails off, trying to remember what crossed his mind to lead to hit send, “I just thought it would be poetic justice, for all the times you hacked into my stuff. I thought it would be some harmless revenge.”

Damian huffs and says, “I haven’t hacked into your things in two years, barring emergencies.”

“I know, it was petty of me and I should have been a better person. I’m sorry.”

“TT,” Damian tuts out dismissively, and it grinds Tim’s thinking to a halt.

Tim takes a good, long look at Damian and sees the tension in his shoulders, the distrust in his eyes, and the slight tremble of his hands that are crossed across the teen’s chest- the signs point to Damian feeling nervous and scared- and that throws Tim for a loop. Damian being scared of Tim was the last thing he wanted. Because that means Tim is becoming like his parents; uncaring, neglectful, and someone that someone needs to be afraid of.

And that startles him so much, he feels his heart stop.

Then Tim drops to his knees and grasps Damian’s hands and begins to says what his heart has been aching to say after Dick’s explanation, “Damian, I am so sorry for invading a place where you felt safe. It was so wrong of me. And I made you feel unsafe in your own house, and I never wanted that, because I know how that feels and it is not okay to feel that way in a place where you should feel at peace,” Tim can see the tears the are forming in Damian’s eyes; but, continues anyway, “If I ever, ever, make you feel that way, I need you to tell me or show me so I can adjust my actions and words accordingly, okay?”

Damian nods, looks away for a few minutes, then with a slight quiver in this voice says, “I understand, Drake. Thank you. I forgive you for your past transgressions.” Tim nods and begins to stand when Damian latches onto his hands then speaks, “But you need to tell me as well, and I will accommodate your boundaries too.”

Tim smiles, then asks, “Can I bother you for a hug, Damian? I think Dick would be proud of us.”

With pink cheeks, Damian opens his arms, accepting Tim’s affection, with a smile hinting on his lips as Tim carefully wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders.

“I believe he would be, Drake.”

#Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #Sequel #I did it!#RayeWriting #Let me know what you lovelies think

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orthodoxydaily · 7 years ago

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Saints&REading: Mon., Dec. 11. 2017

Ven. Daniel The Stylite

Saint Daniel the Stylite was born in the village of Bethara, near the city of Samosata in Mesopotamia. His mother Martha was childless for a long while and in her prayers she vowed that if she had a child, she would dedicate him to the Lord. Her prayers were heard, and Martha soon gave birth to a son, who was without a name until he was five years of age.

The boy’s parents desired that since he was born through the good-will of God, he should also receive his name from God. They took their son to a monastery located nearby and approached the igumen. The igumen gave orders to take down one of the service books, and unrolled it at random. He found the Prophet Daniel (December 17) mentioned in it. Thus did the boy receive his name. The parents asked that he might remain at the monastery, but the igumen would not accept him, since he was still only a small boy. At twelve years of age, saying nothing to no one, the child left home for the monastery...continues

New Hieromartyrs Seraphin, Peter, Aleksy and Nicolai

Today we commemorate a nearly unknown yet great saint, Holy Hieromartyr Seraphim (Chichagov) of Petrograd. This was a man born in the second half of the nineteenth century, to an aristocratic family. He received a brilliant education, graduated from the Page Corps, became a well-known scholar, received a humanitarian as well as a natural sciences education, and was part of the upper echelons of society. He had a brilliant military career, having fought in several wars, but he left all this and became a priest. He did more than anyone else for the canonization of St. Seraphim of Sarov.1This was his particular service.

Holy Hieromartyr Seraphim was not only a priest (later a bishop)—he was a true prophet. If we turn to the new martyrs with prayers for help—prayers to those who live in the kingdom of heaven for those who live here on earth—they can provide that help, because they once lived as we do, here on earth. Thus, Holy Hieromartyr Seraphim possessed a remarkable gift—the ability to recognize the signs of the times. He was able to recognize what very many of his contemporaries could not. Even the canonization of St. Seraphim of Sarov itself was something he prophesied, because the majority of the clergy, bishops, and society in general—strange as it may seem to us—did not want to canonize St. Seraphim of Sarov. They were perplexed, they thought, “Who is he, and why should he be canonized?” We who venerate St. Seraphim as one of the warmest intercessors of our time would have a hard time understanding why they felt that way. But that is just how it was. Because of St. Seraphim (Chichagov’s) position in society he was able to talk to the Emperor and make known to him the nature of St. Seraphim’s extraordinary ascetic labor; and the saint was finally canonized. It would be have been very difficult for those who would soon experience the terrible period of persecutions not to have had this great intercessor and example to follow...continues

2 Tim 2:20-26

20 But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for honor and some for dishonor. 21 Therefore if anyone cleanses himself from the latter, he will be a vessel for honor, sanctified and useful for the Master, prepared for every good work. 22 Flee also youthful lusts; but pursue righteousness, faith, love, peace with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart. 23 But avoid foolish and ignorant disputes, knowing that they generate strife. 24 And a servant of the Lord must not quarrel but be gentle to all, able to teach, patient, 25 in humility correcting those who are in opposition, if God perhaps will grant them repentance, so that they may know the truth, 26 and that they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him to do his will.

Mark 8:11-21

The Pharisees Seek a Sign

11 Then the Pharisees came out and began to dispute with Him, seeking from Him a sign from heaven, testing Him. 12 But He sighed deeply in His spirit, and said, “Why does this generation seek a sign? Assuredly, I say to you, no sign shall be given to this generation.”

Beware of the Leaven of the Pharisees and Herod

13 And He left them, and getting into the boat again, departed to the other side. 14 Now the disciples[a] had forgotten to take bread, and they did not have more than one loaf with them in the boat. 15 Then He charged them, saying, “Take heed, beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod.”

16 And they reasoned among themselves, saying, “It is because we have no bread.”

17 But Jesus, being aware of it, said to them, “Why do you reason because you have no bread? Do you not yet perceive nor understand? Is your heart still[b] hardened? 18 Having eyes, do you not see? And having ears, do you not hear? And do you not remember? 19 When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many baskets full of fragments did you take up?”

They said to Him, “Twelve.”

20 “Also, when I broke the seven for the four thousand, how many large baskets full of fragments did you take up?”

And they said, “Seven.”

21 So He said to them, “How is it you do not understand?”

Footnotes:

Mark 8:14 NU-Text and M-Text read they.

Mark 8:17 NU-Text omits still.

#orthodoxy #spirituality #christianity #faith #realchristianity

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the-one-blog-to-rule-them-all · 7 years ago

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KRISTIAN LIVEBLOGS THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW: LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN 2016 MOVIE

don’t go in here if you stan for the actors bc i shit on them except for like two of them LMAO but not a bad experience all around

i'm gonna try hard not to be a bitch this whole time but my first thought on this is that it's too clean cut LMAO this bitch is talented at singing but i'm not interested in her perfection also i think it's cute intro bc of the posters of the movies also the aesthetic of the movie goers is good girl in the background looked like the ugly chick from crybaby..... hatchet face?? there's like SIX PEOPLE IN THIS THEATER but it's a nice theater she didn't turn her flashlight off lmfao @ them for thinking people would rly be that excited about this movie coming on SORRY I'M NOT BITCHING yo brad is mcFucking cute as hell "she said i do, now i'm doing" put that on my car if y'all don't run after my car like that .... smh yo brad is MCFUCKING CUTE it's those brown eyes i swear lol her struggling to get the glove off, that was cute once again the music is waaaay too polished that's gotta be frank under that cloak GRAVE IN THE BACK SAYS COTTON CAHTUN... THICK CLOUDS OF CAHTUN this funeral procession is following their ass everywhere wth THAS MY BOY!!! THAS TIM RIGHT THERE!!! the audience going wild for this part actually makes sense "life is pretty cheap to that type" good work on the line bitch.. u had a blowout?? i know that feel binch!!! i like their delivery in this scene it's so on the nose LMAO mood they're BOOKIN it to this house LMAO WASTE NO TIME WE GOTTA GO!!! EMO RIFF RAFF LARKGJLARJGKLAJER DOES HE HAVE STREAKS IN HIS HAIR wow his voice is killer tho he's putting his heart into that scene LMAO yo i'll say it again brad is way too cute holy fuck oh shit !! is the castle an old theater or something?? that's interesting okay lady in the bg who is that behind tim i'm not super into her presence and that scream LMAO Riff raff is me "yesh" riff raff is reall doing his best WOW BRAD IS CUTE that riff raff hair is killing me inside BLUE MOHAWK IS DOPE I LIKE HIM this is the most lifeless version of time warp i ever heard in my life this is a really diverse crowd tho which is neet columbias delivery on her part was really good tbh riff raff shredding on a guitar lmfao god brad is mcfucking cute "until IIII GET TO..... a phone" cute HERE COMES FRANK BOYS! laverne bitch you know i love you but this singing is so lifeless wtf is with everyones singing in this movie her dancing is great and facial expressions are great like she's putting life into the movements but the singing ain't shit "could we use ur phone?? :^))))" "antici................................................................................................................pation" i do like columbia she's got this really bored personality but she does it so well victoria justice was so cute right there LMFAO brad trying to GET INTO HIS SHOES i barked LMAO this scene is fun as hell laverne is enjoying the fuck out of it the snapping tho i don't get FROSTED TIP HAIR he looks like the guy from american horror story boxers..... ? i'm disappointed smh WOAH good jump rocky once again like the singing is lifeless LOL BRAD GONNA KARATE CHOP HIS ASS i'm thoroughly enjoying the comedy brad brings to this role "heh heh yes..." LMAO i loved the delivery laverne really is doing a good job except the singing part her delivery is enjoyable charles ATLAS SONG!!! DO ME GOOD PLS I BEG OF U that low laugh LMAO EDDDIIIIIEEEE aslright adam lambert is killing it as eddie he's putting a lot into the performance the weird sideburns are doing a lot for me on his face one thing i don't like about columbia is that she's lost the fun spirit she has in the original but i don't hate the big character change so i'll live LMAO GET HIM FRANK!!! BITCH !11 bye eddie the guy playing rocky is doing great playing stupid YESS SHE CHOKED THE "HOT" PART i appreciate it LMAO janet looking at rocky "going down" nice i like how much brad and janet ham up their lines LOL this scene is so cheesy they're having so much fun WHY DO THEY HAVE ROCKY IN THE SHITTY BASEMENT GOOD GOD rocky runs like me when i have to shit magenta is super cute god I wish that were Me.jpg because brad is so mfUCKING CUTE HES SO EXTRA I LOVE THE HAMMINESS aww poor rocky i always feel so bad for him rocky looking for camera lmao rocky is so lovably dumb WHAT WHY IS THIS A POP SONG LMFAO but i don't mind this song as much as i do the others bc i'm a pop bitch "congratulations janet" laverne this is a look GOD BRAD IS SO MCFUCKING CUTE "bread" is how she pronounces his name and it's amazing dr scott looks like a muppet with that hair the audience participation parts are taking me out of the movie so much magenta is MAD CUTE jesus christ it's the last supper MEAT LOAF AGAIN LMAO I LOVED THAT SCENE listen the awkward tone of dinner and the stopping of singing the song in the middle fucking gets my goat every time LOL BRAD LOOKING AT THE CAMERA rocky is me at dinner chowing down dr scott dancing in his chair to the song i always thought they said "when eddie said he didn't like his DADDY" whoops that's my bad i love dr scott in this omg BEST SONG BETTER DO IT RIGHT LAVERNE I SWEAR the little snap with "bell ring" was cute once again like she's killing it with character in the moves and face but i'm getting nothing from the singing ://// "MENTAL MIND GAME" WEAK WEAK WEAK WEAK WEAK LET FRANK N FURTER SAY FUCK YOU COWARDS that's the best part of the sONG even smiling makes my face ache ahhh the floor show omg best scene i've already seen this scene LOL but i'll express my disappointment with columbias outfit rn becasue it's sOOOOOO BORING LET COLUMBIA WEAR LINGERIE COWARDS but the singing in this whole scene is amazing rocky dances like me in my head BRADDDD INNNNN THE SEXY LOOK OMG THIS IS MY FAVE PART I SWEEEAR WE'VE GOT THE LEGGINGS AND THE TOP AND THE HEELS AND THE GLITTER AND THE GOLD AND SPARKLES WOAH I'M GOOD WITH IT AND THE DANCING AND SINGING KILLS IT BRAD FUCK IT UP JUST rewound it because i love it so much god damn so good even janet is great yo i swear this is the exact same fanfare from the og movie i'm not kidding i don't think they remade it i think it's the same one IT TOTALLY IS OMG that's cool awww man this is bummin me out bc tim curry makes me mad emotional in this scene with the song but her voice hasn't got the life in it actually... we're pickign up now and she's getting better but still hit the notes do it do it GET THE POWER aw FUCK YOU WEAK WHAT A LET DOWN LOL dr scott is a really great actor he's got such personality god i wish that were me.jpg my eyes are literally GLUED to brad who was that SNAZZY MAN the guy playing riff raff is really giving it all he's got and he's super killing it magenta is really me during this scene that columbia death was mad extra LMAO brad like bitch we gotta get the fuck out of here THEY DIDN'T LIKE ME, THEY NEVER LIKED ME yo dr scott is literally the best character omg oh brad you look so pretty they're wrecking this song whcih blows because it's like the PERFECT ending song and always gets me like "damn... what a tragic and wild story..... emotions now" ALRIGHT SO FINAL SYNOPSIS not horrible honestly like they had a lot of fun and it shows and they put a LOT into their acting and everything but the music is just boring as hell aside from a couple songs but not a regrettable hour and a half

#kristian liveblogs #god if this goes into the tag then everyone ignore it please #i'm not trying to start discourse thanks

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starcoweek3 · 8 years ago

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Day 3: The Twin Stars

Note: I apologize in advance for how long this thing turned out to be. It’s a couple days late, but it sure ain’t short.

It was, Marco Diaz reflected, an atypical Saturday at the Diaz household.

For starters, nothing had exploded yet. And after spending most of the previous year with Star, Marco had begun to find peace and quiet downright eerie.

With a hint of concern, Marco walked over to Star’s bedroom and opened the door. There, sitting on her bed staring up at the ceiling, was Star, holding her wand in one hand and the dimensional scissors in the other, staring pensively at one, and then the other.

It was perhaps the most thoughtful Marco had ever seen Star, and that was eerie.

“Oh, hey Marco.” Star said as Marco approached, her attention still clearly focused on the two objects in her hands.

“Hey, Star,” Marco said as he walked up to the bed. “I hadn’t seen any fires all day, I was getting nervous.”

Star examined the scissors carefully. “Yeah, yeah, those fires… you know that stuff.”

Marco frowned, and sat down on the bed. “So, uh, what are you doing with the scissors? You thinking of taking a trip somewhere?”

Star shook her head, and sat up on the bed. “Nooooooot exactly. Marco, have you ever heard of something called a ‘parallel’ dimension?”

Marco’s face broke into a wide grin. “Oh, you mean like something from Tim and Monty? Oh yeah, those things are so cool! I bet there are all kinds of weird dimensions, like one where I was the magical princess and you were the safe kid, or one where I was like, some kinda bad boy and you were-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it Marco.” Star sighed. “A couple of weeks ago… I think I saw some alternate mes. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. What if they still had the book? Maybe I could get Glossaryk back!”

“Woah, hold on Star.” Marco held his hands up. “One Glossaryk in this dimension is bad enough, I don’t even want to think about what would happen if there were more of him.”

Star fell back on the bed and sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Marco. Still, I wonder if there was just some way….”

Suddenly, Star shot back up and leaped off the bed, knocking Marco to the floor in the process. Sweeping the scissors through the air, she cut a dimensional rift across the room.

“Where’s that go?” Marco asked as he stood up off the ground.

“Here.” Star replied curtly. “But now, if I do this…”

Lifting her wand into the air, she twisted around and shouted “Alternate Dimension Portal Transform!”

Glowing a bright pink, the wand shot a blast of magical energy directly into the portal.

For a second, time seemed to stop. Before Marco’s eyes, the portal warped and twisted, and began pulsating rapidly with magical energy.

Then, it exploded.

Marco was forced to shield himself from the searing flash as the entire room disappeared into brilliant white light. Then, a second later, the floor beneath his feet vanished, and Marco felt himself falling.

“Star? WHAT DID YOU D-“

Only a few seconds later, Marco collided heavily with the ground. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and looked around. Somehow, he’d managed to fall… a few feet outside his own house?

Looking up, Marco saw Star’s bedroom tower had completely disappeared without a trace. Instead, the Diaz household looked identical to what it had been before Star had moved in.

Shaking his head, Marco stood up and looked around. Aside from that one change, everything seemed… pretty normal. The sky was still blue, the neighborhood looked identical to the one he’d left, and there was even a normal, ordinary neighbor down the street cutting their grass.

Just as he was about to look away, Marco’s head snapped back, and he stared. “Is that Star’s Da-“

Before he could complete the thought, he heard a loud bang from the open window above him, followed by rapid shouting.

“Oh hey Marco! That was weird, hu-“

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?”

“Wha-“

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU WEIRDO!”

“Marco, I live here!”

“If I told you once I told you a thousand times, YOU HAVE YOUR OWN HOUSE DOWN THE STREET. YOU DO NOT LIVE HERE. AND MY NAME’S NOT MARCO!”

“Sol, what’s going on?” Marco heard his dad calling. “Is there someone up there with you?”

Before he could respond, he heard another voice shout back. “That weird kid from down the block snuck in again!”

Unable to respond, Marco could only continue listening in on the bizzare showdown, his mouth agape.

“Oh, would she like a drink?” he then heard his mother call, “I just bought some from-“

“Marco, please, just tell me what’s going on, this isn’t like you!”

Marco heard an unsettlingly familiar scream of frustration. “You snuck into my house and you won’t leave! For the last time Star, there are no monsters here, there is no magic, please, just leave me alone!”

A second later, Marco heard the door to his room slam.

“Fine! If that’s what you want, I’ll leave, you jerk! You’re making me wonder why we’re even friends!”

The door to Marco’s room slammed back open. “For the last time, WE. ARE. NOT. FRIENDS!”

Even though the words hadn’t come from his own mouth, the words shook Marco to the core. Whatever alternate reality this was, he already didn’t like it.

As the door slammed back shut, the house became eerily quiet. Then, Marco heard a muffled sob, and then, a second later, saw Star running and leaping right out of the second-floor window, landing directly on top of him. Rolling over away from Star, Marco coughed as ne nearly swallowed a mouthful of dirt. But then, to his horror, he saw her racing to stand up and run.

Leaping up as fast as he could, he grabbed Star’s hand before she could dash. “Star, wait!”

Marco was shocked at the face that looked back at him. In the near-year he’d spent with Star, he’d seen her run the gamut of nearly every emotion-many times within a singular thirty-second span. But he’d never seen Star with such a look of rage, embarrassment, or hurt before.

Star pulled away, nearly ripping Marco’s hand off, but he held on. “No, wait, it’s me! Marco! Your friend! From earth!”

Star tried to pull away again. “Marco, what the heck is going on! How could you possibly say we…” her voice broke, “Aren’t friends?”

Marco pulled Star into a tight hug. “Star, that wasn’t me! That was… some other me, I guess. From some weird dimension where… I guess we know each other, but we aren’t friends?”

Star pushed Marco away again, but this time her face was filled with excitement. “Wait, Marco, does that mean I-“

Marco nodded. “I think you pulled us into a parallel dimension.”

Star leaped up into the air, absolutely beaming. “Ohmygoshohmygosh this is SO COOL! I mean, I knew when I shot the portal SOMETHING would happen, but I didn’t think it would really work!”

Then, looking back at Marco, she gave him a punch. “There’s no excuse for your parallel self being a jerk, though.”

Marco rubbed his arm and nodded, looking back up at the house. “Yeah, that guy sounded… not cool. It was weird, though, it almost sounded like he knew you, but you lived here on earth?”

Star’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Marco, do you think this means we’re in a dimension where I’m from earth?”

“Well, possibly, but-“

“Oh man, we have got to find my parallel self!” Star shouted, grabbing Marco’s arm. “I bet she’s super cool, and has lots of friends, and-“

Marco allowed himself to be dragged along as Star started sprinting down the block, but tried to slow her down as much as he could. “Now wait Star, we should take this slow. What if she’s, like, evil or something?”

Star stopped in her tracks, nearly sending Marco hurtling the ground, and waved her hand. “Oh puh-leeze, Marco, you think any of MY parallel mes could be evil?”

Marco shrugged. “I dunno. I mean, I didn’t sound too cool back there.”

Star raised a finger, but brought it back to her chin. “Yeaaah… you do have a point. I guess that means we’re gonna have to conduct some…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “reconnaissance.”

———-

On the whole, Princess Star Butterfly (Interdimensional Protector, Defender of Good, and Fighter of Evil, as she would always add added) considered, the day could have been a lot worse.

It had started, as most days did, with a mission-her mother, Queen Moon the Terrible, had sent her on a sacred quest to rescue a loaf of bread from a vile merchant. Star had, of course, taken on the mission with her usual gusto, though her mom had forced her to promise she’d actually pay for the bread this time instead of stealing it.

But, on her way to the merchant, she’d been accosted by a pack of local hooligans, no doubt sent by the dark Queen Eclipsa from across town. Fortunately, she’d managed to fight them off, through a combination of her magical power and being too fast for them to catch her when she ran. But in the process, she’d lost the money her mom had given her, and she’d missed the bus. That’s when she knew in order to make it to the market and back on time, she’d have to use an interdimensional portal.

And frankly, the less said about that whole fiasco, the better.

Sighing, Star looked down at her magic wand. Somehow, despite all the beating and abuse it’d taken over the past ten years, when she’d first received it at her Official Sailor-Scout Themed Birthday Extravaganza, it was still holding together-even though, she winced, one of the wings was held on with tape, and many of the scratches and dents had been painted over with off-color paint substitutes.

At least the nail polish added some much-needed sparkle, she thought.

Then, she stopped and looked around. Her well-trained ears had sensed something rustling around in the nearby bushes, and this time she was fairly certain it wasn’t a feral cat.

Raising her wand towards the bushes, she formed her classic defensive stance. “Halt, evildoers!” she shouted, clutching her wand as tightly as she could.

Then, she saw herself emerged from behind a tree.

Her arms dropped to her sides, and she stared at the sudden appearance of her doppelganger. The girl standing before her looked just like her, down to the waist-length blond hair, heart-shaped cheek marks, and oversized magic wand. But whereas Star’s cheek marks were merely peeling stickers, and her wand a hunk of plastic, the girl before her looked… real.

After a moment, Star’s jaw slacked open in sheer disbelief. “Whaaaaaaaaaa-“

“Star, you can’t just leap out of bushes at people!”

Tearing her gaze away from her doppleganger, Star suddenly saw Sol emerge behind the bushes. Her temper flaring, she raised her wand again. “Is this some kind of trick? You’re not going twist my mind, evildoers!”

The boy sighed. “My name’s not-urgh, Star, just tell her!”

Star suddenly noticed that as much as she’d been staring at the girl, the girl had been staring right back. With the boy’s words, however, she snapped to attention.

“Oh right! Well, my newfound friend, let me introduce myself. My name is Princess Star Butterfly, and I come from a-“

“Oh, forget it.” Spinning on her heels, Star turned around and began marching away, her cheeks burning with rage. She knew Sol was a jerk, but to think he’d gotten some random girl to dress up like her was a level beyond.

“No, wait!” the girl shouted. “I really am you! And I can prove it!”

Angrily, Star spun back around and squared off against her opponent. “Oh yeah? What’s my birthday?”

The girl smiled. “Oh, that’s easy. The 12th of Grobnock.”

“It’s November 26th.” Star replied angrily. “Who’s my best friend?”

“Oh, Marco, duh.” The girl replied, gesturing towards Sol.

Seething with rage, Star turned back around and began stomping off. The next time she saw Sol, she was going to-

“Oh, and Flying Princess Pony Head.”

Star stopped in her tracks.

She’d never told anyone about Princess Pony Head. She’d never even written it in her diary. So how could this girl…

Slowly turning around, Star stared down the girl, who still appeared as cheerful and bouncy as ever. “Who… who are you?”

“Like I said, my name is Princess Stat Butterfly,” the girl said as she pulled out her wand, “And I’m you from another dimension!”

With a sweep and flourish, the girl drew a flaming rainbow through the air with her wand.

At that moment, Star would have sworn her heart had stopped completely.

“Your wand…” she stared at the girl. “Your wand, it’s…”

She stared down at the cheap, plastic imitation in her hand.

“Magic…” she whispered.

“Thaaaat’s right!” the girl said cheerfully, flipping her wand up into the air, and nearly failing to catch it on its way back down. “Passed down from Queens of Mewni for generations. Absolute one of a kind. I use it to fight monsters!”

“Real monsters?” Star breathed

The girl nodded. “Oh, only the biggest and baddest!” she said, punching the air. “Of course, Marco and I can usually handle it.”

“So,” the girl said, giving Star another once-over, “What do you do? Fight for truth? Defend justice? Don’t think I didn’t see that kick-butt stance!”

“I, uh, go to school, I guess.” Star said. “And, I fight monsters! But most of the time, it turns out they’re not… usually monsters.”

Though his Star remained typically oblivious as she nodded along to whatever her dimensional double said, Marco could tell the girl they’d met was facing a serious existential crisis. From the moment he saw her, he’d realized she wasn’t a real magical princess-how could she be, with that beat-up plastic toy and faded stickers on her cheeks? But Star, being Star, just had to dive right in, not stopping to consider that she’d just given her alternate self a good, hard look at what she could never be.

Still, Marco considered, at least the conversation was going better than it could have potentially gone. At least the girl hadn’t asked if-

Then, his own Star innocently and cheerfully asked the question he’d desperately hoped neither of them would ask: “Say, could I see your wand?”

Marco smacked his forehead. Of course this was happening.

For her part, the alternate Star appeared utterly incredulous at the question. Hesitantly, the alternate Star lifted up her plastic toy and handed it to her double, who examined it closely.

“Heh, yeah, I think I had one of these when I was a kid.” Star said, picking at a patch of off-color paint. “Not a bad wand though, if you know how to use it.” Then, looking up, she grinned. “You wanna see my wand?”

The alternate Star, her eyes wide as dinner plates, nodded slowly.

“Uh, Star, are you SURE this is a good idea?” Marco interjected.

Star turned around and threw up her arms. “Marco! My dimensional twin and I are having a moment.” Then, spinning back around, she took her own wand and dropped it into the other Star’s hands. “Here you go!”

The second the wand touched the alternate Star’s hands, it erupted in a bright flash of light and magical energy. A second later, the light faded, revealing the same wand, perfectly unchanged.

“Oh yeah,” Star laughed, “It’s supposed to change based on the ‘personality and character of the user’ or whatever, but you’re me, so I guess it wouldn’t change for you.”

It was clear, however, that the other Star wasn’t listening. Instead, she continued to stare at the magical artifact in her hands, utterly transfixed.

“A real wand…” she whispered.

“Hey! Why don’t you go give it a spin, while Marco and I check out your place? I’d love to see what you’ve done with your room,” Star suggested.

“Yeah…. Yeah.”

Marco stared with disbelief. “You’re just gonna leave her alone with your wand? Are you out of your mind?”

“Oh come on Marco, what’s the worst that could happen?” Star said, already beginning to walk away. “Now come on, I want to see how my other half lives!”

Marco looked back at the alternate Star. She still hadn’t moved, and appeared content to simply continue staring at the wand. Wincing, he turned around and headed out after Star.

———-

“So here it is.” Star said, “My home, if I was born on earth.”

Marco shrugged. “I mean, it’s nice I guess.”

Sitting a mere half-block away from the Diaz household, the home was a far cry from the Butterfly Castle on Mewni. A two-story ranch, it appeared not entirely dissimilar to Marco’s own home.

Star shrugged. “Say, how do you know this is my house, anyway?”

Marco pointed to the garage. There, the double of River Johansson, minus crown, cape, and shirt, was struggling with a lawnmower.

“Blasted thing!” River shouted, picking up a hammer. “I’ll teach you to-“

“Daddy!” Star shouted, and ran towards him. River turned, surprised, and reacted just in time to catch his daughter as she leapt into his arms.

“Star!” River laughed as he set Star down, “My Princess! How’s your day been so far? Vanquish any monsters?” He said, winking.

“Nah,” Star replied, “I just travelled to an alternate dimension and met a parallel version of me.”

“River! What did I tell you about indulging her?”

Shocked, Marco turned around. Standing in the driveway was Queen Moon, as he’d never seen her before-dressed in slacks and a light-blue blazer.

River sighed. “Oh, honey, I was just-“

“Dear, you know we shouldn’t be encouraging her! It was cute when she was in grade school, but she’s fourteen now! She needs to be able to separate fantasy from reality.”

After an awkward silence, Moon turned to Star. “Dear, did you pick up the bread from the grocery store like I asked?”

“Uh, no?” Star bit her lip, then brightened as she grabbed her wand. “Oh don’t worry though, I got this.” Reaching into the sky, she shouted “Wonder Ultimate Bread Storm!”

Nothing happened. Looking up at her wand, Star realized she still had the fake toy she’d taken from her alternate self, and chuckled. “Heh, oh yeah.”

Moon shook her head and buried her face in her palm. “Look Star, I really don’t have time for this. I have a very important meeting to attend this afternoon. Please, please, just stay home and don’t cause any trouble. Just this once?”

Star nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Moon sighed again, and turned to Marco. “Hello, Sol. Is there anything you need?”

Marco coughed. “Uh, nothing, just, you know, hangin’ out with Star.”

Moon’s demeanor immediately improved. “Really? Well, I’m glad to see you two are finally getting along. Maybe you two can watch some of those cartoons you like so much.”

Marco laughed nervously. “Heh, yeah, maybe! You know us, always… watching those cartoons.”

Moon gave Marco a suspicious glance, then brushed it aside. “Well, I better get going. River, can you make sure to have dinner going by the time I get back?”

“Oh, absolutely, my dear!” River said, then turned to the lawnmower. “Just as soon as I can send this foul beast back into the pit from whence it came!”

Moon glared sharply.

“I mean, as soon as I fix the lawnmower, honey.”

Moon smiled, and walked away.

River turned to Marco and Star and sighed. “Well, you heard your mother. You’re free to do anything you like around the house, just please don’t leave and do anything rash. We don’t want another… incident, now do we, sweetie?”

Star nodded her head, smiling awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, totally! Thanks dad!”

Grabbing Marco, she sped into the house as quickly as she could, and slammed the door behind her.

“Well that was weird.” Marco said, rubbing his wrist where Star had grabbed it. “They weren’t like your parents at all.”

“Actually, they seemed exactly like my parents.” Star said, grimacing. “Come on, let’s check this place out.”

Together, the pair began exploring the house. It was, to Star’s disappointment, typically suburban, with tasteful furniture and decoration scattered throughout. There were a few tantalizing parallels to Star’s home dimension, including a honeymoon picture of “King River and Queen Moon” standing next to an English castle, and a portrait of an old show dog labeled “Chauncey”. For the most part, however, the house was clearly as un-magical as could be.

Venturing upstairs, the two had no trouble finding the alternate Star’s bedroom-after all, there were very few people who would have taken the time to bedazzle an entire door. Stepping inside, Marco was struck by how similar it was to Star’s room back in their own dimension-in spirit, at least, if not in size. Stuffed animals, toy weapons, and countless other trinkets covered every surface of the room, save for the walls and ceiling-which were themselves covered in paintings of castles and posters of Sailor Moon.

“She sure has a lot of stuff,” Marco said as he carefully stepped across the room, stretching to reach the few spots of uncovered ground.

“Aw, she has her own Cloudy and Beanbag, too!” Star cooed, knocking everything in her path aside as she made her way across the room to inspect the pair of pink and blue beanbag chairs in the corner, each with faces scribbled on them. “They’re not alive, though.”

Marco walked over to the closet. “I wonder if she has a secrets closet, too.”

A second later, he received his answer when the door burst open, burying Marco in a pile of clothing, discarded and disused items.

“Marco! You don’t just walk into a Princess’s Secrets Closet without permission!” Star lectured. “Now get outta the way, I wanna dig through it.”

Straining with the effort, Marco dug himself out from underneath the pile of debris, and stood up. After glancing at Star’s desperate efforts to sort through the junk, his eye spotted a purple notebook lying underneath a particularly large and battered stuffed Narwhale. Picking it up, he turned it over and opened the cover.

“Chapter one,” he read aloud, “Mom’s a poop-head.”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Uh, Star?”

“Can it wait?” Star replied. “I think I found an old fish tank.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind me flipping ahead to chapter 11.” Marco said, turning the pages as noisily as he could. “Chapter eleven: My thoughts on-Sol? Oh yeah, I guess that is my name her-“

Before he could read any farther, he was knocked over by a heavy blow from a stuffed unicorn that had been clumsily dyed grey. Dropping the journal, he fell to the floor and stared up as Star burst from the pile before him, more stuffed animals in hand.

“Marco!” she shouted, grabbing the journal before it could hit the floor. “What did I say about reading my journal?”

“Well, technically it’s not your journal.” Marco replied, playfully tossing the stuffed unicorn back at Star.

Not even bothering to dodge, she merely glared at Marco as the soft toy bounced harmlessly off her head. “Nope, still me, still my journal.”

Marco shrugged. “So, anything good?”

Star opened the journal and skimmed through it. “Well, it’s definitely my handwriting,” she reported. “Aw, she even dots the i’s with little hearts! Soooo sweet.”

As she continued to read through it, however, Star’s face began to fall. “It’s… really similar to my journal. Except where it’s not.”

“Very descriptive, Star.”

“No, like here-Chapter 7, Fighting Evil,” she said, “I remember writing this part after I fought a bunch of monsters. And the way I-I mean, she writes about it here, it’s pretty much the same. Buuuuuut….”

“But what?”

“Well, there’s all this stuff at the end, like here-‘And with Billy’s help, I successfully managed to fight off the vicious troglodytes. Unfortunately, Mom-sorry, that’s crossed out, Queen Moon declared that they weren’t actually troglodytes, but the Johnson kids from down the street, and that I wasn’t allowed to play-that’s crossed out too-‘do battle’ with them anymore.”

Marco frowned. “I’m not gonna lie, Star, your alternate self sounds nuttier than my abuelita’s fruitcake.”

Star nodded. “Yeah, it’s weird. I-her-sound like I’m-me-she’s a magical princess, but the evidence seems preeeetty concrete that I’m not.”

Star spat out her tounge. “Bleh, I mean, she’s not. Man, this parallel dimension stuff is getting confusing.”

Marco nodded. “Yeah, a little bit. You want to head back now?”

“Mmm, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Star snapped her fingers. “Oh shoot, we still have to get my wand back, first.”

“Well,” Marco said as he stood up off the floor, “Let’s go find the other you. Hopefully you haven’t gone too far.”

“Oh, I’m sure I haven’t.” Star said. “And hey, you know, even if I’m crazy and think I’m a magical princess in this dimension, at least I got to give myself a taste of what it’s like to be me.”

She smiled. “Now come on, let’s go find me.”

———-

Star stared at the column of smoke and fire before her that had once been Echo Creek Academy.

“Ooooooh, boy.”

Marco shook his head. “Well Star, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She sighed. “Well, at least it’s not as bad as when I first got my wand.”

Then, she winced involuntarily. “Yet.”

As near as Marco could tell, the school had been just one location on a path of sheer destruction the alternate Star had wrought. More columns of smoke were already rising in the distance, and the sound of dozens of distant sirens filled the air.

Slowly, Marco and Star began making their way through the corridor of devastation. Fortunately, in spite of the property damage, nobody appeared to have gotten hurt-though how long that would last was anyone’s guess.

“Hold on, I think I see her.” Marco said as they passed by the ruins of Sensei’s strip-mall dojo. In the distance, he could see a figure standing atop a wrecked police cruiser, silhouetted by the flames before her.

He frowned. “Well, that’s ominous.”

Star cracked her knuckles. “Too late, I’m going in.”

“Star, wait!”

Before the words had even left Marco’s mouth, Star was already running. Scrambling to chase after her, Marco saw the alternate Star turn around and smile.

“Star! It’s so good to see you!” She jumped down off the car and began skipping towards them, twirling the wand in her hand. “There’s just so much evil in the world that has to be defeated, and I never could have fought it all alone.”

“Yeah, that’s… great.” Star said, slowing to a stop. “You, uh, sure have been busy!”

“Oh, definitely.” The other Star nodded. “I mean, first, I had to go destroy the Dark Lord Skeeves’ fortress. Then, I had to go fight those creeps who always hang out on 7th Street.” She paused, and nibbled on her wand. “I miiiight’ve gone a bit overboard on the Spirit Committee, but I’m sure they’re all fine.”

Star laughed nervously. “Well, I can tell you’ve been doing a lot of hard work, fighting the forces of evil, buuuuuut, I’m gonna need my wand back.”

The other Star looked at Star’s outstretched hand, confused. “Your wand? No, this is my wand.”

Star’s eyes narrowed. “Sister, you better think about your next words very carefully.”

The girl recoiled, clutching the wand to her chest. “But I can’t let you take my wand! I need it, to fight evil! And maybe blast Sol, the next time I see him!”

Stepping back, she leveled the wand directly at Star. “I see it now. I thought you were here to help me defeat the forces of evil, but it turns out you’re one of them!”

“Wait, what-“

“Narwhale Blast!”

Star dodged out of the way just in time to avoid the tide of magical Narwhales that blasted out from the other Star’s wand. Marco wasn’t so lucky, and was knocked back into a pile of rubble.

Dashing forward, Star made a lunge for the wand, only for the other Star to twirl away at the last second. Barely dodging another Narwhale Blast, Star was forced to roll away and take cover behind the damaged police cruiser, breathing heavily.

“You can’t beat me, you know!” Star shouted. “I’m a magical princess, and I’m the best me there is!”

The other Star laughed heartily. “But you’re forgetting, one thing, Princess…”

Before Star could react, she felt the police cruiser begin to rise into the air. Scrambling to turn around, she saw the other Star lifting the vehicle with her wand.

The girl smiled in a wild, manic grin. “So am I.”

Flicking the wand, she sent the police cruiser sailing into a nearby storefront. Then, she turned back to Star, the wand raised and already glowing.

Star did the only thing she could do-she quickly picked up a broken piece of pavement and chucked it as hard as she could. Too surprised to react, the other Star merely stood and watched as the chunk of asphalt sailed right into her face, knocking her over and forcing her to let go of the wand.

Star was already on her feet and running. The wand was so close-but before she could reach it, she felt something grab onto her ankle. Crashing to the ground, Star rolled over and saw the other Star latched onto her leg with one hand, with the other already balled up into a fist. Star dodged the first punch, and quickly retaliated with one of her own, hitting the other Star square in the ribs. Exhaling involuntarily, the other Star loosened her grip, allowing Star to kick her leg free. But before she could go back after the wand, the other Star leapt straight off the ground and onto her back, pinning her to the ground.

“Stop fighting, stop fighting!”

Both Stars stopped struggling and looked up. Marco, though battered and bruised, had run up and was holding a taser, pointing it directly at the struggling girls.

“Marco, you’ve got to help me!” the other Star suddenly shouted. “She’s the evil twin, not me!”

Marco lowered the taser and stared, clearly confused. “What? No she’s not. Look, one of your cheek stickers even fell off.”

The other Star rubbed her cheek, clearly surprised to find it bare. “Oh, yeah.”

Then, without warning, she leaped off of Star and charged towards Marco. Sliding between his legs, she pulled the wand off of the ground and leapt up, reflexively blasting the taser out of Marco’s hand. Then, stepping back, she leveled it directly at the two.

“Well, this has been fun,” the other Star said, “But there’s only one way to vanquish evil once and for all.”

“Stop fighting, stop fighting!”

The three turned around and stared. Running up behind them was Marco’s dimensional double Sol, clearly exhausted and out of breath. Stopping, Sol took a second to lean over and gulp in several lungfuls of air before looking back up.

“Wait, didn’t we already do this?” Star said.

Sol ignored her and focused on the girl holding the magic wand. “Star *gasp* you can’t do this! Destroying buildings *wheeze* hurting people, this isn’t you! That’s not the Star I know!”

Star let down her wand and stared angrily at Sol. “The Star you know? You don’t even know me!”

To Marco’s surprise, Sol looked legitimately apologetic. “You know Star? You’re right. We’ve been fighting each other for so many years, all because I never did get to know you. But I think I do know you well enough to know that this isn’t what Star Butterfly, defender of good, would do.”

He smiled sheepishly. “And you know, after you snuck into my house this morning, and I said what I said… I realized that, you know what? We might not be friends, but maybe we should be.”

The other Star dropped the wand, staring at Sol. “You really mean it?”

Sol nodded. “Yeah, I do, Star. Everyone else might make fun of you, but you’re the coolest girl I know! You’re always fighting stuff, and you never back down, and I saw the way you took down Lars that one time!”

She smiled. “Wow, Marco, that really…” Suddenly, she looked confused. “Wait, I didn’t sneak into your house this morning.”

“Oh, that was me.” Star said, brushing herself off as she stood up off the ground. “Sorry about that.”

Sol stared. “THERE’S TWO OF YOU?”

He nearly fell over when Marco walked over and placed his hand on his shoulder. “There’s two of us too, buddy.”

Sol stared at Marco, awestruck. “You mean… Sol Diaz didn’t come into this world alone?”

Marco shrugged. “Well, I’m actually from a different dimension. You know, parallel universes and all that jazz.”

“Wow.” Sol said. “Another Sol Diaz. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Actually, my name is Marco.”

“Marco? Wow, that’s dumb.”

Marco frowned.

As Star watched the bizarre display, the other Star leaned over and picked up the wand, turning it over with her hands. Then, she walked over to Star and presented it to her alternate self.

“I… I think this is yours.” The other Star whispered, staring at the ground.

Star took one look at herself, and pulled herself in for a tight hug. The other Star looked dumbfounded for a second, then broke into tears.

“I just… I just wanted to be like you!” she said, sobbing. “You’re everything I ever wanted to be! When you let me have the wand, I just… I just…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Star said, patting her alternate self on the back. “You’re not the first person to go wand-crazy.”

The other Star broke out of the hug, tears still streaming down her face. “But that’s just it! You have a wand! How am I supposed to be anything like you without it?”

Star nodded sadly. “I mean, I’m not gonna say that having a wand doesn’t help. Or living in a castle. Or being a princess. But those aren’t the things that make me, me!”

Star gestured over to Marco, who was apparently in the middle of his own heart-to-heart with Sol. “What matters is having friends, who care about you. I mean, even with all my magic, if it weren’t for Marco my parents probably would’ve shipped me off to Saint O’s.”

The other Star screamed. “They have Saint O’s in your universe, too? Wait, wait-” She began frantically looking around. “Oh no, OH NO!”

Star frowned. “Okay, this is getting a liiiittle weird. How about we-“

“No, you don’t understand! If my mom founds out about this-“ Star gresticulated wildly, indicating the devastation around her-“She’s gonna freak! And she’s gonna send me to Saint Olga’s Psychiatric Reform Hospital for Wayward Youth! And she’s gonna… and she’s gonna…” Tears began welling up in her eyes again.

Star smiled, and took her wand back from the other Star’s limp grasp. It flashed white once again, and crackled with magical energy. “Not if I have anything to say about it, she’s not.”

———-

Moon Butterfly nearly drove the car beside her off the road as she soared across the expressway, aiming for her exit home. The meeting with the Avarius Corporation hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped-apparently they’d undergone a hostile takeover recently, and were less than inclined to listen to her own buyout offer. They’d been on the verge of a breakthrough, however, when she’d gotten word there’d been some kind of natural disaster in Echo Creek-and before anyone could utter another word, she was already in her car and speeding back home.

At first, it had seemed as though her worst fears had been realized. Thick columns of smoke had been rising into the sky from the distance, and a veritable convoy of emergency vehicles had passed her by. But as she drove through the town, everything appeared normal-there was no fire, no rubble, and, as near as she could tell, no disaster.

Pulling up beside a fire truck surrounded by dismounted firefighters, she rolled down her window and waved. “You there! I heard there was some kind of disaster in the area, what happened?”

The closest firefighter shrugged. “Lady, I don’t know what to tell you. We gots a call that half the town had blown up, but when we got here, nadda.”

“Some kinda prank if you ask me.” One of the other firefighters said. The rest nodded in agreement.

Sighing, Moon rolled her window up and drove away, heading for home. It would be just her luck that the entire thing was a false alarm. But at this point, it was far too late to head back and salvage the meeting-and besides, she had to make sure Star was safe.

Pulling up into the driveway, she got out of her car and headed inside. Surprisingly, she found River standing in the doorway, looking pale.

“River, dear? What’s wrong?”

“Well, hrmm, honey, you’re not going to believe this, but-“

“Hi mom!” River was interrupted by a blonde blur that leapt up and hugged Moon. Overcome with relief, Moon kneeled down and wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Star, I’m so glad you’re alright.” Moon said. “I heard there was some sort of incident, and I came home as soon as I could.”

She laughed. “I suppose it was just a false alarm, though.”

“Noooooot exactly.”

Surprised, Moon looked up and nearly fainted. Standing in the hallway was a carbon-copy of her daughter.

After a brief moment, she recovered her ability to speak. “Who-“

“Oh, yeah.” Star coughed, and held out her hand. “I’m Star Butterfly. I’m, uh, not from around here. I’m from another dimension.”

Hardly believing what was happening before her eyes, Moon gingerly reached out and shook the girl’s hand. “It is a… pleasure to meet you, Star.”

“Aaaaanyway,” Star said, “I just wanted to let you know that I came here, and I met your daughter, and there might have been some… stuff. But it’s totally cool!” She threw up her hands. “Everything should be back to normal. Probably.”

Moon’s motherly instincts gradually began to take over from her disbelief. “I see. And was my daughter responsible for any of it?”

Star froze, clearly not having anticipated this response. “Noooooooo?”

Moon rolled her eyes, and stood up. “Well, if everything is, as you said, ‘totally cool’, than I suppose I must thank you, Star.”

“Heh, yeah.” Star said nervously. “Like I said, totally cool!”

The other Star, freed from her mother’s embrace, walked over. “Well Star, I guess this is goodbye.” She said sadly. “I really am glad I got to meet you.”

Star hugged herself. “I’m glad I got to meet you too. And if you ever know anything,” she said as she passed Star a piece of paper, “you know where to call.”

“Now come on Marco, let’s get out of here.”

Marco walked out from the kitchen, munching on a bowl of chips. “Are you sure we can’t stay? Your alternate dad’s making fish!”

“Caught ‘em myself!” River interjected proudly.

Star sighed. “No, Marco, let’s go.” Taking out her dimensional scissors, she tore open a portal in the living room. Then, raising her wand, she again shouted “Alternate Dimension Portal Transform!”

The Butterflys covered their eyes as the living room vanished in a brilliant white flash. Once the light faded, there was no trace of the alternate Star or Marco.

“Goodbye, Star.” Star whispered sadly.

“Well I have to say, dear, you handled that much better than I expected.” River said. “I fainted right on the couch when they told me.”

Moon smiled. “Yes, well, that girl isn’t the only one who’s traveled to other dimensions in that family.”

Star stared at her mother, awestruck. “You mean-“

“That, dear, is a story for another time. Now, get ready for dinner. Your father worked very hard on that fish.”

———-

Sol reached up to ring the doorbell. Before his finger could reach the button, the door swung open to reveal a near-hyperventilating Star.

“YOU’RE HERE OHMYGOSH I KNEW YOU WOULD BE BUT YOU’RE HERE!”

Sol grinned. “Well, it was a tough choice between this and throwing rocks at a hornet’s nest with Ferguson, but-“

Before he could finish, Star grabbed Sol and pulled him inside. Dragging him to living room, she practically threw him on the couch and ran to the TV. Already displayed on the screen was the DVD menu for the first season of Sailor Moon.

Smiling, Sol shook his head. “Ah, sorry Star, but I’m going to insist we try something with a little more… punch.” Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a DVD set of Dragonball Z, and grinned again.

“What? Sailor Moon has plenty of punch!” Star objected. “I’ll have you know that…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked at Sol’s hopeful face. Then, sighing, she gave in. “Oh alright, we can watch it just this once.”

“Yes!” Sol punched the air and leaped off the couch, running to the DVD player. “Don’t worry Star, you’re gonna love this.”

Star smiled, and sat back on the couch. She knew, and had finally accepted, she wasn’t magic. She didn’t have a magic wand, and she wasn’t a princess. She even, sadly, knew she’d likely never see the other Star again-she’d tried calling the number she’d given her, but only person she’d reached was this weird lady named Darron.

But, for the moment, being able to sit on her couch with a friend, watching their favorite show…

That was enough.

(submitted by aceb133)

#so detailed but so long. an experience everyone should go through by reading this tremendous fanfic!#with how big this is this could be considered a seven wonders of the world!#aceb133 #fanfic #original concept #submission

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