#i have been begging her for it since i turned 21 and it became legal for me to buy all of the ingredients

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 16: Cooking A Special Recipe

Cumulus, Mountain, and Dew introduce Aeon to the joys of kahlua chocolate chip cookies.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and thank you to @ghuleh-recs for making the divider! <3

"Hey, junie, look what we got while we were out shopping!"

Mountain and Aeon both look up from the round of Mario Kart they're playing, Aeon cursing under their breath as their Toad crashes into a wall, the 'wrong way' sign flashing over his head.

Dew's stuck his head into the living room from the kitchen, holding up a brown glass bottle with a red and yellow label, shaking it. The full bottle sloshes, and Mountain perks up. "Oh shit, you got kahlua. I know what that means."

"Fuck yeah, you do," Dew crows, eyes wide.

Aeon's brow furrows. "It's ten in the morning on a Thursday, are we starting to drink this early?"

Mountain reaches over, rubbing Aeon's shoulder. "No, petunia, it's not for drinking, at least, not right now. We're making cookies."

"Oh, fuck yeah, cookies," Aeon pauses their game, spamming the button with such urgency that Mountain cackles, standing from the couch. "Is Cue helping?"

"It's her recipe," Dew says, leading the two other ghouls to the kitchen. There are grocery bags on the kitchen counter, things the Abbey can't grow or make themselves. Semi sweet chocolate chips, butterscotch pudding mix, the thick glass bottle of rum and coffee liqueur that Dew sets down with a clink.

Cumulus looks up from where she's sorting things in the fridge, hair tied back. "Boys," she greets the three of them. "You helping make cookies?"

"Unless that means you have too many cooks in the kitchen,'' Mountain says, reaching to grab the big bag of all-purpose flour from the top shelf of the cupboard. "Though I don't think Aeon's ever had your cookies before."

"You're in for a treat then, bunny. If it's too many people," she says, "I'll just kick Dew out."

"Hey!" he protests, but there's laughter in his voice; he knows she's teasing.

Aeon glances over at her as she pulls out the carton of eggs. "Can you get the cup and spoon measures out of the drawer by the sink?" Cumulus asks, moving to preset the oven. Aeon nods, scrambling to comply and moving out of Dew's way as he grabs bowls and a rubber spatula.

Mountain fetches baking powder ("Not soda, right, hummingbird?" "Yep, soda makes them flatter than I want them." "Like Dewey's ass?" "I can hear you!") and salt. He takes the measures from Aeon and shows them how to level the measuring cups of flour, dumping them into a bowl with the pudding mix. Aeon adds the spoons of baking powder and salt.

Dew takes care of the wet ingredients, both types of sugar and softened butter and vanilla and a healthy pour of kahlua. Cumulus takes the bottle when he's done, slyly pouring half a shot for all four of them.

"Add a little bit at a time," Mountain directs Aeon, taking the wet bowl from Dew. "I'll stir."

Aeon nods, biting their tongue in concentration, trying not to spill the dry ingredients. Bit by bit, the dough starts to form, and Cumulus adds the chocolate chips, all four of them trying to be slick and snatch a few while the other three aren't looking. Inevitably they catch each other stealing chunks of dough, cackling at the absurdity of trying to be sneaky.

Once the dough's ready, Cumulus goes to one of the cabinet drawers, pulling out an ice cream scoop . "Mount, there's a baking sheet with parchment paper on the counter, could you grab that for me?"

"'Course," he hums, already turning to grab it for her. Cumulus scoops the dough onto the baking sheet, evenly arranging them in rows. Once the sheet's full, she slides it into the oven.

"Alright, ten minutes on the clock," she hums, turning to gather the shotglasses and passing them out. "Cheers."

They down their shots before rinsing out the glasses and cleaning up the dirty dishes. Mountain keeps an eye on the stove clock as the kitchen fills with the scent of baked goods. "How long do you think it'll take for Swiss to come throw himself on top of these?" Mountain asks.

"I don't think hiding them on top of the fridge will work this time," Cumulus hums. "I mean. It'll keep Aurora and Dew from getting them at least."

"Wait." Dew's brow furrows, a look of distress falling over his features. "Is that where they went last time? I thought they were all gone."

"Oh, Dewey," Cumulus coos, laughing. "Oh, Dew, I'm so sorry."

"Cue!" He shouts, playing up his upset.

Mountain ruffles his hair, and the fire ghoul sputters, frantically trying to fix his hair. "Don't worry, firefly, we get first dibs."

Dew smiles smugly, settling back against the counter until the stove clock says it's been ten minutes. He gets up, turning to Aeon, leveling them with a serious look. "Please don't ever do what I'm about to do, I'm a fire ghoul, I don't need a hotpad. You will burn yourself if you try."

He opens the oven, pulling the tray out with his bare hands and taking the spatula from Cumulus, moving the finished cookies from the tray to a plate. They're round little things, golden brown and the chocolate chips gooey.

Cumulus waves her hand casually, using her wind to cool the cookies til they're just on the right side of warm. "Aeon, you get first pick. Enjoy."

She grins as Aeon picks one, tentatively taking a bite. The others all watch, grinning as their eyes go wide, a nearly pornographic moan slipping from their lips. "Holy fuck, Cue," they say with their mouth still full.

"Yeah?" she laughs, taking her own cookie. Dew and Mountain are quick to snatch one for themselves.

"That's really fucking good," they say, taking another big bite of cookie.

"They are," Dew says, biting off nearly half of his cookie. His eyes flutter shut. "Fuck. Just as good as I remember."

Mountain makes a similar noise to Aeon as he chews. "Yep. Uh-huh. We need to find a spot to hide these so they last for longer than an afternoon."

There's thudding footsteps, and Swiss skids on socked feet into the doorframe. "I smell kahlua cookies," he pants, eyes wide and a little crazed, a grin splitting his face.

Cumulus shares a look with Mountain and Dew, and all four of them burst into laughter.

#the cookie recipe they use is a approximate reverse engineering of my mother's 'secret' recipe that she makes once a year #i have been begging her for it since i turned 21 and it became legal for me to buy all of the ingredients #she is still keeping it close to her chest (i turn 23 in two weeks lmao) #they are fucking /heavenly/ #the last time she gave me some i put them on top of my fridge to make it an inconvenience to eat them and try and make them last longer #i could have eaten them all at once they're that good i promise im not exaggerating #mom pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee (i say like she has access to my tumblr lmao) #anyways #dot's writing #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #aeon ghoul #swiss ghoul #mushy may 2024 #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction

[org4n-failur3]

The Dylann Roof case- In Depth

I DO NOT SUPPORT. THIS IS INFORMATIONAL!

Pls reblog incase I get trmed!

Dylann was born April 3rd 1994 to mother Amelia and father Franklin with 2 sisters Amber and Morgan. During early childhood his parents would divorce and his father would later remarry. His stepmother accused his father of abüse. He would beg his step mother to let him live with her but she wasn’t able to. Dylann would be described to have obsessive compulsive tendencies with germs. In middle school he would stop caring about school and started smoking weed and drinking vodka. In nine years he would have attended seven schools. In 2010 he would drop out of Highschool and continue playing video games and smoking weed and drinking.

In 2015 he was caught with an invalid prescription for suboxone at a mall to which he was banned from for a year. Later that year he was caught loitering in the mall to which they searched his car finding a forearm grip for a AR-15 semiautomatic rifle and six unloaded magazines capable of holding 40 rounds each but was let off it was legal in the state. Roofs Suboxone charge was mishandled and a system error took it as a misdemeanour instead of a felony. Which would have possibly prohibited him from purchasing the firearm.

Later Dylann would look into the Trayvon Martin case and from an unknown article concluded Zimmerman was in the right. He then fell down a rabbit hole of black on white crime and misinformation. He then found 4chan and would find even more misinformation and hard right ideologies Dylann states he hasn’t been the same since that day. Which leads to his manifesto titled ‘The last Rhodesian’ Rhodesia being the African state founded in 1965 ran by primary Europeans and a white supr3macy ideology before being abolished in 1979. The term now sticks with white supremac!sts like Dylann had became, as he also used the flag on his jacket. In preparation before the attack he looked up black churches and found the Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church and would scout the area and ask around about mass times.

June 15th 2015 somewhere around 8:00pm Dylann entered the church, once he did he was greeted by Rev.Pinckney and given a bible to study with. Roof was sat next to Pinckney as the study continued. As the study closed and the ending pray started Roof stood up and pulled out his Gl0ck 41 .45 calibre handgûn and began sh00ting. Killing Pinckney first. Then 26 year old Tywanza Sanders stood up to plead with Dylann before he said ‘I have to do it. You r4p3 our women and you’re taking over our country and you have to go’ he then wh0re and k!lled Sharonda Singleton, Dr. Daniel L. Simmons, Ethel Lee Lance, Cynthia Hurd, Myra Tompson and Tywanza Sanders. Dylann would reload 5 times that day. Polly Shepherd was spared when he asked her if he shot her yet to which she replied no he then told her ‘good cause we need someone to survive because I’m gonna sh00t myself and you’ll be the only survivor. He then turned the gûn on himself realizing he was out of ammo. He then left the church to the surprise there wasn’t anyone outside. The next day the police confirmed the gûnman was 21 year old Dylann Roof with witnesses reporting they saw him drive towards Shelby, a town close to Charleston. At 10:44am Roof was arrested at a traffic stop in Shelby where it was then confirmed he worked alone.

Five days after the sh00ting the grand jury announced that Roof was being indicted for 33 federal charges.

12 counts hate crime against black people

12 counts obstructing the exercise of religion

9 counts mûrd3r using a firearm.

On June 6th Roof reportedly did not want to be trialed by jury and instead let the judge decide if he was guilty and if the d3ath penalty was reasonable. August 23rd Roofs lawyers called the motion of d3ath penalty unconstitutional and asked to reject the motion. On September 1st an on camera hearing was held in case of outbursts. December 7th 2016 the trial started. During a survivor statement Roofs mom collapsed as she had a heart attack. After 3 days of the trial FBI played a video on which he admitted to laughing and drinking while describing to friends how he’d sh00t the church. To which his friend didn’t report to police and said he was drunk and took his keys and gl0ck that was on him. After 2 hours the jury found him guilty on all 33 charges. Roof wanting to plead guilty but told not to by lawyers.

January 10th 2027 Roof was sentenced to d3ath penalty, and d3ath by lethal injection.

-

NOTE: if I get anything wrong please tell me! This was from an old project I had.

-Vivi

#info post #information #dylannstormroof #dsr #tccblr #tc community #tcc columbine #vivi stfu

[schnoogles]

Curiouser and Curiouser written for the @jonsa-halloween event! Day 2: Drink Me/Colors Read on Ao3 

Theon began lining empty whisky tumblers, “how about everyone here try my newest concoction? I call it ‘The Kraken.’” He poured the brightest color of electric blue liquid in each glass and gestured for everyone to pick one up. Jon eyed it warily, “Where’d the name come from?” He lifted it to his mouth. Theon smiled as he watched everyone down it. “Eight legs, eight ingredients! Most of which are alcohol.” Robb immediately slapped Theon across the face after he drank his. Everyone else went into either a coughing fit or started gagging.

Theon had the best idea for a drink. Unfortunately, he wasn't anticipating Sansa being a lightweight.

“What up bitches! It’s time for SHOTS.” 

Everyone groaned. Arya was having way too much fun at this party.

“Gods, was I like this when I became legal drinking age?” Sansa looked at her little sister across the room, horrified at the bubbly young woman in a Cheshire cat costume. She’ll be first to admit though, Arya was absolutely adorable, even with what looked like a drink in each hand.

Jon snorted. “No, but you were like this when Robb took you to your first college party and Theon gave you an AMF.” 

“Not my finest hour.” Sansa grimaced at the memory. “On the plus side, that was my one and only time ever getting that wasted. Even now at legal drinking age I stay away from hard liquors. All thanks to Theon’s peer pressuring.”

“Hey!” Theon protested from behind the counter, “That drink gave you the fucking courage to kiss Jon! You should be thanking me!” Jon and Sansa shifted uncomfortably. Nearly four years later and still only one drunken kiss between them. Robb had seen what they were doing and put a stop to it. He didn’t care if they wanted to date but he didn’t want his best friend and little sister to do anything they’d regret. Unfortunately, they were both too embarrassed and didn’t bring it up the next day. Which led to both parties assuming the other did, in fact, regret it.

“How ‘bout we don’t humiliate Jon and Sansa tonight, Theon?” Robb walked up to the group, Arya in tow looking decidedly put out.

Theon laughed and pointed an empty shaker at her, “Why the pout, Cheshire?”

“Robb won’t let me have anymore shots.”

Everyone in the group snickered at her. Leave it to Responsible Robb to reign in his little sister. 

“Tell you what shorty,” Theon began lining empty whisky tumblers, “how about everyone here try my newest concoction? I call it ‘The Kraken.’” He poured the brightest color of electric blue liquid in each glass and gestured for everyone to pick one up.

Jon eyed it warily, “Where’d the name come from?” He lifted it to his mouth. 

Theon smiled as he watched everyone down it. “Eight legs, eight ingredients! Most of which are alcohol.” Robb immediately slapped Theon across the face after he drank his. Everyone else went into either a coughing fit or started gagging. 

“That,” he wagged a finger at Theon, “is absolutely disgusting.”

“Noted.” Theon shook his head, slightly disoriented from Robb’s slap.

Arya slammed her glass down in front of Theon. “Another!”

“No!” Everyone but Theon shouted. 

“Spoil sports, all of you.” Arya grumbled. 

The group of friends chatted some more, with Theon occasionally coming in and out of the conversation as he was making drinks for his guests. They were all having a good time. Talking, laughing, having some more drinks. No one thought they needed to stop until suddenly-

“Jesus Christ,” Sansa giggled, “Does everyone else see the pretty dancing colors?” Sansa looked around them in wonderment. She noticed a slight change in her vision earlier but thought she was imagining it. Now though, with another cocktail under her belt, she knew she definitely wasn’t imagining the pretty lights and bright swirling colors.

“Sansa?” Robb looked at his sister in disbelief. “Are you drunk already? Theon what the fuck was in that drink?”

Jon placed a steady hand on Sansa’s lower back. “Well, I think she had maybe one drink earlier, but I dunno what it was. Might not have been agreeable with Theon’s catastrophe-”

“It’s called Kraken, thank you very much.” He was affronted by Jon’s misnaming. “And how was I supposed to know that Queen of Hearts over here is a lightweight? She’s usually the DD!” He wasn’t wrong. Sansa always volunteered to stop drinking early at parties to make sure her older brother and his friends were safe. For good reason.

“First of all, Mad Hatter,” she scoffed at the name of Theon’s costume, “I’m the Red Queen! Pick up a book, learn the difference, get it right.” When drunk, apparently Sansa Stark became Sassy Snark. She hiccupped before gleefully announcing, “Second of all: I’m a one shot wonder babeyy!!” The boys tried to smother their laughter at the dancey redhead. Sansa wasn’t finished though. It was Theon’s idea to throw an Alice in Wonderland themed Halloween party so how dare he not know the different characters. During her long winded explanation of the various different queens in the story, Arya managed to sneak a drink from over the counter. She didn’t, however, manage to sneak it into her mouth.

“Freeze, Underfoot.” Robb gestured at the drink in her hand. “You’re cut off for the next hour. Pace yourself or you’ll end up like-” he stuck a thumb at Sansa, “-over there.” Arya looked over his shoulder and saw her older sister attempting to put braids in Jon’s curly hair. She snorted. “It’s water for you for the time being.” He went to grab two bottles from the fridge. One he gave Arya and the other he tossed to Jon. 

“Here we go Sansa,” Jon moved her hands off his hair and handed the water bottle to her, “I have some water for you.”

Sansa smacked his hand away. “The only thing you have is the audacity!”

Jon chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be! How dare you have such nice soft hair! It’s not fair! You don’t even do anything with it!” Sansa suddenly squealed with delight and reached behind Jon. “Thanks Theon!”

“Wh- Hey!” Theon stood flabbergasted as she swooped over and stole his drink from his hands.

“What?” she asked curiously, unaware that anything was wrong. Instead of waiting for a response, she took the shot.

Theon spluttered, “What do you mean ‘what?’ That wasn’t for you!”

Lies. Clearly the shot was meant for Sansa. “But it was practically begging for me to drink it!” 

That gave Jon an idea. He uncapped the bottle of water and lifted it in front of Sansa’s face. In an unnaturally high pitched voice, he said, “Drink me, Sansa, drink me!” while waving the water in front of her face. Perhaps he was a bit tipsy too.

“Oh! Well okay, sure!” Jon’s jaw dropped at how easily and happily she took the water and drank. He blinked several times before calling out to her brother. “Uh… Robb?”

“Sup?”

“We can’t leave Sansa alone all night.”

“Um, sure…? But why?”

“She is a far too agreeable drunk.” Jon replied, eyes still not off of the pretty lady in front of him who was dancing to the music, water still in hand.

Before Robb could open that can of worms, he saw in the corner of his eye his other little sister running off with what looked suspiciously like a bottle in her arms. “HEY! ARYA COME BACK HERE!”

At the sound of her brother screaming, Sansa looked over, then enthusiastically started waving at the back of her sister’s head. “Bye Arya! See you later!”

Robb groaned and started banging his head on the counter. Sansa looked at her brother with the utmost concern. That surely must hurt him! 

“Don’t worry man, she’s fine,” Theon chuckled. When Robb glared at him, he explained. “She’s newly 21, remember?”

“Yeah, and?”

“And she just ran off with a bottle of grenadine,” Theon snorted, “Something tells me the only thing she'll get is a sugar crash.”

Robb sagged his shoulders in relief. He really didn’t want to deal with another drunk little sister. Those two are going to be the death of him. At least he only has to worry about a sugar crash tonight coming from Arya tonight.

Suddenly though, it was like Sansa sobered up out of nowhere. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“What’s wrong San?” 

She pointed at something passed her brother. When the boys all turned, they immediately frowned. A pompous ass, thy name is Joffrey. Robb swore. This is what he gets for letting Theon be in charge of everything, including the guest list.

Jon turned to Theon. “Bro.”

Theon scratched his head. “Look I didn’t invite him. I’m guessing Renly did? He’s usually forced to take his nephew to outings.”

Robb scrunched his face. “And since when were you friends with Renly Baratheon?”

Sansa, still not taking her eyes off the blonde asshole, answered, “Since the only way Margaery Tyrell would accept Theon’s invitation was if she was allowed to bring her brother Loras. And where Loras goes, so does Renly.” Sansa looked away from her source of disdain and lifted a brow at a very sheepish looking Theon. “Girls talk.”

“Of fucking course this is about a girl.” Robb sighed and looked to Jon. “I’m gonna handle this. Do you mind?” He jerked his head at Sansa and Jon understood the underlying request. Take my sister away from here while I kick out her ex, who would most definitely make a scene. 

“Hey, Red Queen?” Jon grabbed her hands and started backing up, pulling her along.

Sansa perked up. “Yes Jon?” She let him guide her, Joffrey already forgotten. Jon stumbled just a bit. Something about that Yes Jon that excited him.

“Remember how you were curious about where Ghost is during the party?”

Sansa instantly smiled brightly. She loved Jon’s dog. “Yeah?”

And her smile must be contagious because Jon returned it tenfold. “You wanna go see him?”

Sansa gasped enthusiastically, “Oh my gods! Yes pleeeeease!” 

Jon coughed. Something in his chest grumbled approvingly at her words. “Perfect,” his voice came out a little rougher than he intended. “He’s upstairs in my room.” And suddenly he was no longer leading Sansa, she was leading him. Tugging Jon along, she ran through the crowd of partiers to make her way towards the stairs when suddenly she stopped. Jon, not expecting the abrupt interruption in their journey, collided into her.

“Oooof! Sorry, Sansa, you okay?” 

She didn’t even notice, too busy looking around the room. “Isn’t it so pretty?” 

Jon laughed quietly at how she was admiring some fancy color-changing LED lights and, in his opinion, a rather tacky disco ball. Sure, the luminescence of the atmosphere was pretty cool, but it didn’t compare to one admiring it. What was in that drink Theon? “It’s gorgeous. Come on pretty girl, Ghost is waiting.” At the mention of the dog, Sansa squealed and grabbed Jon again, dragging him along.

When they opened the door to his room, she rushed over and started giving Ghost all the love. He was the best boy that ever was and deserved so many pets.

Jon closed the door and with the loud music now a muffled noise, he could properly appreciate her company. And he couldn’t help but admire her affections for his dog. When he sat on the edge of his bed, she looked up at him. 

“Jon, are you uncomfortable when I’m around?” That caught him off guard.

“What? No, not at all. Where is this coming from?”

Sansa bit her lip. “Well, I can’t help but remember the last time Theon plied me with alcohol.”

Jon turned his attention to Ghost instead and swallowed. “And?”

“And you sort of ignored me for a week. Sometimes I think we’re okay, but then you pull back again. And I’m not stupid. It always happens when I try flirting with you.”

Jon did a double take. “I’m sorry, you flirt with me?”

Sansa grimaced. “Oh god, was I not? Dammit Arya was right.” She started mumbling to herself as Jon watched, shocked at this new information. “Am I really just too nice to everyone? Is that why my flirting game is so off? My god is that why Arya thought I was flirting with the mailman when I told him it was so good to see him? Fucking hell.”

At the mention of Sansa flirting with someone who was not him, he snapped back to attention. “Wait wait wait. Sansa, you like me? Like… like me, like me?” Jon, channeling his inner Cheshire, slowly began to grin very, very widely.

“Aw you’re making fun, I don’t want to look at you anymore.” She turned her back to him, sticking her face in Ghost’s soft fur. Jon laughed at the woman with her face buried in his dog’s fur. But oh no, Jon couldn’t let that happen, no sir. He slid off the bed and joined her on the floor with Ghost. Gently pulling her and making her face him, Jon stared into those vibrant blue eyes of hers. They were as blue as Theon’s drink. At the memory of Theon’s drink, which had delightfully led to this conversation, Jon chuckled.

“Sansa, I’m going to need you to remember this conversation tomorrow morning, alright?”

“Of course I’ll remember!” She squinted her eyes at Jon. “Why do I need to remember?”

“Because I like you too and you’re drunk.” 

“Oh!” Sansa nodded. Jon made perfect sense. She is drunk and he does like her. With that confirmation, she went back to petting Ghost. And Jon went back to watching her fondly. 

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, trapping Ghost in her arms. Jon’s eyes darted back and forth from her to his bed, debating. Nope, Jon had some decency left in him. He lifted her up and took her to Robb’s room. His friend can sleep on the couch for a night.

As he was tucking her in, Sansa grabbed at his arms. “Hey Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I ever tell you? When I was dating Joffrey back in high school, it always felt like the light was drained out of me. It was kinda awful.” Jon furrowed his brows. He knew Joffrey Baratheon was an ass, but never knew to what extent. Before he could say anything though, Sansa continued. “But when I got to really know you and when we kissed a few years ago, it was like everything got inexplicably brighter. My life suddenly went from black and white to technicolor and I've never wanted to look back.”

Jon couldn’t stop smiling. “Alright pretty girl, it’s time for bed.”

She smiled mischievously at him. “You could always join me.”

Suddenly they heard a gagging noise coming from the inside room with them. Arya popped up from the floor on the other side of the bed. She pointed a bottle at them and glared. “I swear to all that is holy and good, if you join her Jon, I will vomit. And I’m not even drunk!”

Jon laughed as he backed up towards the door. “No worries, Underfoot, I’m going.” With one final wave at a giggling Sansa, he went out and closed the door behind him. Jon prayed to the gods that Sansa would remember tomorrow morning. 

Tomorrow Morning

Sansa opened the door and peeked through to see a snoring Jon. She went in and shut the door behind her. After some light contemplation, she thought ah fuck it and launched herself on his unsuspecting body. 

“Oh my god!”

“Good morning Jon!” she said sweetly to him. 

“Hi?” Bleary eyed Jon was not a morning person.

“Hey Jon. I remember.” 

His eyes snapped open. Suddenly Jon, and all parts of Jon really, became a morning person. 

Arya heard giggling come from Jon’s room while coming back from the bathroom and scoffed. “Filthy animals.”

#actuallyjonsa #jonsa fic #jonsaff #jonsa halloween #jonsa #jonsaaaaaa #my writing #excuse the silly edit lmao

[allaboutjoseph]

Patris Corde - Apostolic Letter of Pope Francis

https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/apost_letters/documents/papa-francesco-lettera-ap_20201208_patris-corde.html

APOSTOLIC LETTER - PATRIS CORDE

OF THE HOLY FATHER, FRANCIS

ON THE 150th ANNIVERSARY OF THE PROCLAMATION OF SAINT JOSEPH AS PATRON OF THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH

WITH A FATHER’S HEART: that is how Joseph loved Jesus, whom all four Gospels refer to as “the son of Joseph”.[1]

Matthew and Luke, the two Evangelists who speak most of Joseph, tell us very little, yet enough for us to appreciate what sort of father he was, and the mission entrusted to him by God’s providence.

We know that Joseph was a lowly carpenter (cf. Mt 13:55), betrothed to Mary (cf. Mt 1:18; Lk 1:27). He was a “just man” (Mt 1:19), ever ready to carry out God’s will as revealed to him in the Law (cf. Lk 2:22.27.39) and through four dreams (cf. Mt 1:20; 2:13.19.22). After a long and tiring journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, he beheld the birth of the Messiah in a stable, since “there was no place for them” elsewhere (cf. Lk 2:7). He witnessed the adoration of the shepherds (cf. Lk 2:8-20) and the Magi (cf. Mt 2:1-12), who represented respectively the people of Israel and the pagan peoples.

Joseph had the courage to become the legal father of Jesus, to whom he gave the name revealed by the angel: “You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:21). As we know, for ancient peoples, to give a name to a person or to a thing, as Adam did in the account in the Book of Genesis (cf. 2:19-20), was to establish a relationship.

In the Temple, forty days after Jesus’ birth, Joseph and Mary offered their child to the Lord and listened with amazement to Simeon’s prophecy concerning Jesus and his Mother (cf. Lk 2:22-35). To protect Jesus from Herod, Joseph dwelt as a foreigner in Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-18). After returning to his own country, he led a hidden life in the tiny and obscure village of Nazareth in Galilee, far from Bethlehem, his ancestral town, and from Jerusalem and the Temple. Of Nazareth it was said, “No prophet is to rise” (cf. Jn 7:52) and indeed, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (cf. Jn 1:46). When, during a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, Joseph and Mary lost track of the twelve-year-old Jesus, they anxiously sought him out and they found him in the Temple, in discussion with the doctors of the Law (cf. Lk 2:41-50).

After Mary, the Mother of God, no saint is mentioned more frequently in the papal magisterium than Joseph, her spouse. My Predecessors reflected on the message contained in the limited information handed down by the Gospels in order to appreciate more fully his central role in the history of salvation. Blessed Pius IX declared him “Patron of the Catholic Church”,[2] Venerable Pius XII proposed him as “Patron of Workers”[3] and Saint John Paul II as “Guardian of the Redeemer”.[4] Saint Joseph is universally invoked as the “patron of a happy death”.[5]

Now, one hundred and fifty years after his proclamation as Patron of the Catholic Church by Blessed Pius IX (8 December 1870), I would like to share some personal reflections on this extraordinary figure, so close to our own human experience. For, as Jesus says, “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Mt 12:34). My desire to do so increased during these months of pandemic, when we experienced, amid the crisis, how “our lives are woven together and sustained by ordinary people, people often overlooked. People who do not appear in newspaper and magazine headlines, or on the latest television show, yet in these very days are surely shaping the decisive events of our history. Doctors, nurses, storekeepers and supermarket workers, cleaning personnel, caregivers, transport workers, men and women working to provide essential services and public safety, volunteers, priests, men and women religious, and so very many others. They understood that no one is saved alone… How many people daily exercise patience and offer hope, taking care to spread not panic, but shared responsibility. How many fathers, mothers, grandparents and teachers are showing our children, in small everyday ways, how to accept and deal with a crisis by adjusting their routines, looking ahead and encouraging the practice of prayer. How many are praying, making sacrifices and interceding for the good of all”.[6] Each of us can discover in Joseph – the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence – an intercessor, a support and a guide in times of trouble. Saint Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows can play an incomparable role in the history of salvation. A word of recognition and of gratitude is due to them all.

1. A beloved father

The greatness of Saint Joseph is that he was the spouse of Mary and the father of Jesus. In this way, he placed himself, in the words of Saint John Chrysostom, “at the service of the entire plan of salvation”.[7]

Saint Paul VI pointed out that Joseph concretely expressed his fatherhood “by making his life a sacrificial service to the mystery of the incarnation and its redemptive purpose. He employed his legal authority over the Holy Family to devote himself completely to them in his life and work. He turned his human vocation to domestic love into a superhuman oblation of himself, his heart and all his abilities, a love placed at the service of the Messiah who was growing to maturity in his home”.[8]

Thanks to his role in salvation history, Saint Joseph has always been venerated as a father by the Christian people. This is shown by the countless churches dedicated to him worldwide, the numerous religious Institutes, Confraternities and ecclesial groups inspired by his spirituality and bearing his name, and the many traditional expressions of piety in his honour. Innumerable holy men and women were passionately devoted to him. Among them was Teresa of Avila, who chose him as her advocate and intercessor, had frequent recourse to him and received whatever graces she asked of him. Encouraged by her own experience, Teresa persuaded others to cultivate devotion to Joseph.[9]

Every prayer book contains prayers to Saint Joseph. Special prayers are offered to him each Wednesday and especially during the month of March, which is traditionally dedicated to him.[10]

Popular trust in Saint Joseph is seen in the expression “Go to Joseph”, which evokes the famine in Egypt, when the Egyptians begged Pharaoh for bread. He in turn replied: “Go to Joseph; what he says to you, do” (Gen 41:55). Pharaoh was referring to Joseph the son of Jacob, who was sold into slavery because of the jealousy of his brothers (cf. Gen 37:11-28) and who – according to the biblical account – subsequently became viceroy of Egypt (cf. Gen 41:41-44).

As a descendant of David (cf. Mt 1:16-20), from whose stock Jesus was to spring according to the promise made to David by the prophet Nathan (cf. 2 Sam 7), and as the spouse of Mary of Nazareth, Saint Joseph stands at the crossroads between the Old and New Testaments.

2. A tender and loving father

Joseph saw Jesus grow daily “in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favour” (Lk 2:52). As the Lord had done with Israel, so Joseph did with Jesus: he taught him to walk, taking him by the hand; he was for him like a father who raises an infant to his cheeks, bending down to him and feeding him (cf. Hos 11:3-4).

In Joseph, Jesus saw the tender love of God: “As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him” (Ps 103:13).

In the synagogue, during the praying of the Psalms, Joseph would surely have heard again and again that the God of Israel is a God of tender love,[11] who is good to all, whose “compassion is over all that he has made” (Ps 145:9).

The history of salvation is worked out “in hope against hope” (Rom 4:18), through our weaknesses. All too often, we think that God works only through our better parts, yet most of his plans are realized in and despite our frailty. Thus Saint Paul could say: “To keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness’” (2 Cor 12:7-9).

Since this is part of the entire economy of salvation, we must learn to look upon our weaknesses with tender mercy.[12]

The evil one makes us see and condemn our frailty, whereas the Spirit brings it to light with tender love. Tenderness is the best way to touch the frailty within us. Pointing fingers and judging others are frequently signs of an inability to accept our own weaknesses, our own frailty. Only tender love will save us from the snares of the accuser (cf. Rev 12:10). That is why it is so important to encounter God’s mercy, especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, where we experience his truth and tenderness. Paradoxically, the evil one can also speak the truth to us, yet he does so only to condemn us. We know that God’s truth does not condemn, but instead welcomes, embraces, sustains and forgives us. That truth always presents itself to us like the merciful father in Jesus’ parable (cf. Lk 15:11-32). It comes out to meet us, restores our dignity, sets us back on our feet and rejoices for us, for, as the father says: “This my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (v. 24).

Even through Joseph’s fears, God’s will, his history and his plan were at work. Joseph, then, teaches us that faith in God includes believing that he can work even through our fears, our frailties and our weaknesses. He also teaches us that amid the tempests of life, we must never be afraid to let the Lord steer our course. At times, we want to be in complete control, yet God always sees the bigger picture.

3. An obedient father

As he had done with Mary, God revealed his saving plan to Joseph. He did so by using dreams, which in the Bible and among all ancient peoples, were considered a way for him to make his will known.[13]

Joseph was deeply troubled by Mary’s mysterious pregnancy. He did not want to “expose her to public disgrace”,[14] so he decided to “dismiss her quietly” (Mt 1:19).

In the first dream, an angel helps him resolve his grave dilemma: “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:20-21). Joseph’s response was immediate: “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him” (Mt 1:24). Obedience made it possible for him to surmount his difficulties and spare Mary.

In the second dream, the angel tells Joseph: “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him” (Mt 2:13). Joseph did not hesitate to obey, regardless of the hardship involved: “He got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod” (Mt 2:14-15).

In Egypt, Joseph awaited with patient trust the angel’s notice that he could safely return home. In a third dream, the angel told him that those who sought to kill the child were dead and ordered him to rise, take the child and his mother, and return to the land of Israel (cf. Mt 2:19-20). Once again, Joseph promptly obeyed. “He got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel” (Mt 2:21).

During the return journey, “when Joseph heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. After being warned in a dream” – now for the fourth time – “he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth” (Mt 2:22-23).

The evangelist Luke, for his part, tells us that Joseph undertook the long and difficult journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be registered in his family’s town of origin in the census of the Emperor Caesar Augustus. There Jesus was born (cf. Lk 2:7) and his birth, like that of every other child, was recorded in the registry of the Empire. Saint Luke is especially concerned to tell us that Jesus’ parents observed all the prescriptions of the Law: the rites of the circumcision of Jesus, the purification of Mary after childbirth, the offering of the firstborn to God (cf. 2:21-24).[15]

In every situation, Joseph declared his own “fiat”, like those of Mary at the Annunciation and Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

In his role as the head of a family, Joseph taught Jesus to be obedient to his parents (cf. Lk 2:51), in accordance with God’s command (cf. Ex 20:12).

During the hidden years in Nazareth, Jesus learned at the school of Joseph to do the will of the Father. That will was to be his daily food (cf. Jn 4:34). Even at the most difficult moment of his life, in Gethsemane, Jesus chose to do the Father’s will rather than his own,[16] becoming “obedient unto death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8).  The author of the Letter to the Hebrews thus concludes that Jesus “learned obedience through what he suffered” (5:8).

All this makes it clear that “Saint Joseph was called by God to serve the person and mission of Jesus directly through the exercise of his fatherhood” and that in this way, “he cooperated in the fullness of time in the great mystery of salvation and is truly a minister of salvation.”[17]

4. An accepting father

Joseph accepted Mary unconditionally. He trusted in the angel’s words.  “The nobility of Joseph’s heart is such that what he learned from the law he made dependent on charity. Today, in our world where psychological, verbal and physical violence towards women is so evident, Joseph appears as the figure of a respectful and sensitive man. Even though he does not understand the bigger picture, he makes a decision to protect Mary’s good name, her dignity and her life. In his hesitation about how best to act, God helped him by enlightening his judgment”.[18]

Often in life, things happen whose meaning we do not understand. Our first reaction is frequently one of disappointment and rebellion. Joseph set aside his own ideas in order to accept the course of events and, mysterious as they seemed, to embrace them, take responsibility for them and make them part of his own history. Unless we are reconciled with our own history, we will be unable to take a single step forward, for we will always remain hostage to our expectations and the disappointments that follow.

The spiritual path that Joseph traces for us is not one that explains, but accepts. Only as a result of this acceptance, this reconciliation, can we begin to glimpse a broader history, a deeper meaning. We can almost hear an echo of the impassioned reply of Job to his wife, who had urged him to rebel against the evil he endured: “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” (Job 2:10).

Joseph is certainly not passively resigned, but courageously and firmly proactive. In our own lives, acceptance and welcome can be an expression of the Holy Spirit’s gift of fortitude. Only the Lord can give us the strength needed to accept life as it is, with all its contradictions, frustrations and disappointments.

Jesus’ appearance in our midst is a gift from the Father, which makes it possible for each of us to be reconciled to the flesh of our own history, even when we fail to understand it completely.

Just as God told Joseph: “Son of David, do not be afraid!” (Mt 1:20), so he seems to tell us: “Do not be afraid!” We need to set aside all anger and disappointment, and to embrace the way things are, even when they do not turn out as we wish. Not with mere resignation but with hope and courage. In this way, we become open to a deeper meaning. Our lives can be miraculously reborn if we find the courage to live them in accordance with the Gospel. It does not matter if everything seems to have gone wrong or some things can no longer be fixed. God can make flowers spring up from stony ground. Even if our heart condemns us, “God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything” (1 Jn 3:20).

Here, once again, we encounter that Christian realism which rejects nothing that exists. Reality, in its mysterious and irreducible complexity, is the bearer of existential meaning, with all its lights and shadows. Thus, the Apostle Paul can say: “We know that all things work together for good, for those who love God” (Rom 8:28). To which Saint Augustine adds, “even that which is called evil (etiam illud quod malum dicitur)”.[19] In this greater perspective, faith gives meaning to every event, however happy or sad.

Nor should we ever think that believing means finding facile and comforting solutions. The faith Christ taught us is what we see in Saint Joseph. He did not look for shortcuts, but confronted reality with open eyes and accepted personal responsibility for it.

Joseph’s attitude encourages us to accept and welcome others as they are, without exception, and to show special concern for the weak, for God chooses what is weak (cf. 1 Cor 1:27). He is the “Father of orphans and protector of widows” (Ps 68:6), who commands us to love the stranger in our midst.[20]  I like to think that it was from Saint Joseph that Jesus drew inspiration for the parable of the prodigal son and the merciful father (cf. Lk 15:11-32).

5. A creatively courageous father

If the first stage of all true interior healing is to accept our personal history and embrace even the things in life that we did not choose, we must now add another important element: creative courage. This emerges especially in the way we deal with difficulties. In the face of difficulty, we can either give up and walk away, or somehow engage with it. At times, difficulties bring out resources we did not even think we had.

As we read the infancy narratives, we may often wonder why God did not act in a more direct and clear way. Yet God acts through events and people.  Joseph was the man chosen by God to guide the beginnings of the history of redemption. He was the true “miracle” by which God saves the child and his mother. God acted by trusting in Joseph’s creative courage. Arriving in Bethlehem and finding no lodging where Mary could give birth, Joseph took a stable and, as best he could, turned it into a welcoming home for the Son of God come into the world (cf. Lk 2:6-7). Faced with imminent danger from Herod, who wanted to kill the child, Joseph was warned once again in a dream to protect the child, and rose in the middle of the night to prepare the flight into Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-14).

A superficial reading of these stories can often give the impression that the world is at the mercy of the strong and mighty, but the “good news” of the Gospel consists in showing that, for all the arrogance and violence of worldly powers, God always finds a way to carry out his saving plan. So too, our lives may at times seem to be at the mercy of the powerful, but the Gospel shows us what counts. God always finds a way to save us, provided we show the same creative courage as the carpenter of Nazareth, who was able to turn a problem into a possibility by trusting always in divine providence.

If at times God seems not to help us, surely this does not mean that we have been abandoned, but instead are being trusted to plan, to be creative, and to find solutions ourselves.

That kind of creative courage was shown by the friends of the paralytic, who lowered him from the roof in order to bring him to Jesus (cf. Lk 5:17-26). Difficulties did not stand in the way of those friends’ boldness and persistence. They were convinced that Jesus could heal the man, and “finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in front of Jesus. When he saw their faith, he said, ‘Friend, your sins are forgiven you’” (vv. 19-20). Jesus recognized the creative faith with which they sought to bring their sick friend to him.

The Gospel does not tell us how long Mary, Joseph and the child remained in Egypt. Yet they certainly needed to eat, to find a home and employment. It does not take much imagination to fill in those details. The Holy Family had to face concrete problems like every other family, like so many of our migrant brothers and sisters who, today too, risk their lives to escape misfortune and hunger. In this regard, I consider Saint Joseph the special patron of all those forced to leave their native lands because of war, hatred, persecution and poverty.

At the end of every account in which Joseph plays a role, the Gospel tells us that he gets up, takes the child and his mother, and does what God commanded him (cf. Mt 1:24; 2:14.21). Indeed, Jesus and Mary his Mother are the most precious treasure of our faith.[21]

In the divine plan of salvation, the Son is inseparable from his Mother, from Mary, who “advanced in her pilgrimage of faith, and faithfully persevered in her union with her Son until she stood at the cross”.[22]

We should always consider whether we ourselves are protecting Jesus and Mary, for they are also mysteriously entrusted to our own responsibility, care and safekeeping. The Son of the Almighty came into our world in a state of great vulnerability. He needed to be defended, protected, cared for and raised by Joseph. God trusted Joseph, as did Mary, who found in him someone who would not only save her life, but would always provide for her and her child. In this sense, Saint Joseph could not be other than the Guardian of the Church, for the Church is the continuation of the Body of Christ in history, even as Mary’s motherhood is reflected in the motherhood of the Church.[23] In his continued protection of the Church, Joseph continues to protect the child and his mother, and we too, by our love for the Church, continue to love the child and his mother.

That child would go on to say: “As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40).  Consequently, every poor, needy, suffering or dying person, every stranger, every prisoner, every infirm person is “the child” whom Joseph continues to protect. For this reason, Saint Joseph is invoked as protector of the unfortunate, the needy, exiles, the afflicted, the poor and the dying.  Consequently, the Church cannot fail to show a special love for the least of our brothers and sisters, for Jesus showed a particular concern for them and personally identified with them. From Saint Joseph, we must learn that same care and responsibility. We must learn to love the child and his mother, to love the sacraments and charity, to love the Church and the poor. Each of these realities is always the child and his mother.

6. A working father

An aspect of Saint Joseph that has been emphasized from the time of the first social Encyclical, Pope Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum, is his relation to work. Saint Joseph was a carpenter who earned an honest living to provide for his family. From him, Jesus learned the value, the dignity and the joy of what it means to eat bread that is the fruit of one’s own labour.

In our own day, when employment has once more become a burning social issue, and unemployment at times reaches record levels even in nations that for decades have enjoyed a certain degree of prosperity, there is a renewed need to appreciate the importance of dignified work, of which Saint Joseph is an exemplary patron.

Work is a means of participating in the work of salvation, an opportunity to hasten the coming of the Kingdom, to develop our talents and abilities, and to put them at the service of society and fraternal communion. It becomes an opportunity for the fulfilment not only of oneself, but also of that primary cell of society which is the family. A family without work is particularly vulnerable to difficulties, tensions, estrangement and even break-up. How can we speak of human dignity without working to ensure that everyone is able to earn a decent living?

Working persons, whatever their job may be, are cooperating with God himself, and in some way become creators of the world around us. The crisis of our time, which is economic, social, cultural and spiritual, can serve as a summons for all of us to rediscover the value, the importance and necessity of work for bringing about a new “normal” from which no one is excluded. Saint Joseph’s work reminds us that God himself, in becoming man, did not disdain work. The loss of employment that affects so many of our brothers and sisters, and has increased as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, should serve as a summons to review our priorities. Let us implore Saint Joseph the Worker to help us find ways to express our firm conviction that no young person, no person at all, no family should be without work!

7. A father in the shadows

The Polish writer Jan Dobraczyński, in his book The Shadow of the Father,[24] tells the story of Saint Joseph’s life in the form of a novel. He uses the evocative image of a shadow to define Joseph. In his relationship to Jesus, Joseph was the earthly shadow of the heavenly Father: he watched over him and protected him, never leaving him to go his own way. We can think of Moses’ words to Israel: “In the wilderness… you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as one carries a child, all the way that you travelled” (Deut 1:31). In a similar way, Joseph acted as a father for his whole life.[25]

Fathers are not born, but made. A man does not become a father simply by bringing a child into the world, but by taking up the responsibility to care for that child. Whenever a man accepts responsibility for the life of another, in some way he becomes a father to that person.

Children today often seem orphans, lacking fathers. The Church too needs fathers. Saint Paul’s words to the Corinthians remain timely: “Though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers” (1 Cor 4:15). Every priest or bishop should be able to add, with the Apostle: “I became your father in Christ Jesus through the Gospel” (ibid.). Paul likewise calls the Galatians: “My little children, with whom I am again in travail until Christ be formed in you!” (4:19).

Being a father entails introducing children to life and reality. Not holding them back, being overprotective or possessive, but rather making them capable of deciding for themselves, enjoying freedom and exploring new possibilities. Perhaps for this reason, Joseph is traditionally called a “most chaste” father. That title is not simply a sign of affection, but the summation of an attitude that is the opposite of possessiveness. Chastity is freedom from possessiveness in every sphere of one’s life. Only when love is chaste, is it truly love. A possessive love ultimately becomes dangerous: it imprisons, constricts and makes for misery. God himself loved humanity with a chaste love; he left us free even to go astray and set ourselves against him. The logic of love is always the logic of freedom, and Joseph knew how to love with extraordinary freedom. He never made himself the centre of things. He did not think of himself, but focused instead on the lives of Mary and Jesus.

Joseph found happiness not in mere self-sacrifice but in self-gift. In him, we never see frustration but only trust. His patient silence was the prelude to concrete expressions of trust. Our world today needs fathers. It has no use for tyrants who would domineer others as a means of compensating for their own needs. It rejects those who confuse authority with authoritarianism, service with servility, discussion with oppression, charity with a welfare mentality, power with destruction. Every true vocation is born of the gift of oneself, which is the fruit of mature sacrifice. The priesthood and consecrated life likewise require this kind of maturity. Whatever our vocation, whether to marriage, celibacy or virginity, our gift of self will not come to fulfilment if it stops at sacrifice; were that the case, instead of becoming a sign of the beauty and joy of love, the gift of self would risk being an expression of unhappiness, sadness and frustration.

When fathers refuse to live the lives of their children for them, new and unexpected vistas open up. Every child is the bearer of a unique mystery that can only be brought to light with the help of a father who respects that child’s freedom. A father who realizes that he is most a father and educator at the point when he becomes “useless”, when he sees that his child has become independent and can walk the paths of life unaccompanied. When he becomes like Joseph, who always knew that his child was not his own but had merely been entrusted to his care. In the end, this is what Jesus would have us understand when he says: “Call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven” (Mt 23:9).

In every exercise of our fatherhood, we should always keep in mind that it has nothing to do with possession, but is rather a “sign” pointing to a greater fatherhood. In a way, we are all like Joseph: a shadow of the heavenly Father, who “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Mt 5:45). And a shadow that follows his Son.

* * *

“Get up, take the child and his mother” (Mt 2:13), God told Saint Joseph.

The aim of this Apostolic Letter is to increase our love for this great saint, to encourage us to implore his intercession and to imitate his virtues and his zeal.

Indeed, the proper mission of the saints is not only to obtain miracles and graces, but to intercede for us before God, like Abraham[26] and Moses[27], and like Jesus, the “one mediator” (1 Tim 2:5), who is our “advocate” with the Father (1 Jn 2:1) and who “always lives to make intercession for [us]” (Heb 7:25; cf. Rom 8:34).

The saints help all the faithful “to strive for the holiness and the perfection of their particular state of life”.[28] Their lives are concrete proof that it is possible to put the Gospel into practice.

Jesus told us: “Learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart” (Mt 11:29). The lives of the saints too are examples to be imitated. Saint Paul explicitly says this: “Be imitators of me!” (1 Cor 4:16).[29] By his eloquent silence, Saint Joseph says the same.

Before the example of so many holy men and women, Saint Augustine asked himself: “What they could do, can you not also do?” And so he drew closer to his definitive conversion, when he could exclaim: “Late have I loved you, Beauty ever ancient, ever new!”[30]

We need only ask Saint Joseph for the grace of graces: our conversion.

Let us now make our prayer to him:

Hail, Guardian of the Redeemer, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. To you God entrusted his only Son; in you Mary placed her trust; with you Christ became man.

Blessed Joseph, to us too, show yourself a father and guide us in the path of life. Obtain for us grace, mercy and courage, and defend us from every evil. Amen.

Given in Rome, at Saint John Lateran, on 8 December, Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the year 2020, the eighth of my Pontificate.

Franciscus

#saint joseph #saint joseph the worker #Saint Joseph the Patriarch #Terror of Demons #st joseph #st joseph the worker #yearofstjoseph #Year of St Joseph #st. joseph #head of the holy family #protodulia #chaste heart #Model of Artisans #patron of refugees #san jose #san giuseppe #savior of our savior #Husband of Mary #La Sagrada Familia #patris corde

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

“here’s a glass of whatever.” for whoever you'd like :))

Walking into the bar, she heard their friends and her boyfriend before she actually saw them. Race’s head was thrown back laughing, Spot was glaring at his husband, and her own fiancé just grinned and shook his head. Smalls, the birthday girl, was at the other end enjoying what looked like her first or second legal drink. There were about 20 people crammed around the large table.

“Hey you made it!” Jack exclaimed, hooping up from his chair to meet her before she got to the table. “Hello, hello.”

He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss as his siblings catcalled them. Rolling his eyes he pulled away, giving Kat a grin. “I swear they were all asking about when you were coming.”

She grinned, putting her bag on a chair before making her way around the large table, stopping to catch up with all of their friends and the birthday girl.

About 20 minutes later, she collapsed on the chair beside Jack, putting her head in her arms sighing loudly. “Rough day?”

“Remind me again why I thought it would be a GREAT idea to become a high school English teacher?” She rolled her eyes. “If I have to look at one more horribly written essay, I will scream.”

Spot tipped his beer in her direction. “Wanna come over to the house and have a grading party? I’ve got to grade the Anatomy exams this weekend. We can be miserable together.”

Kat raised her hand for a high-five before nodding. “Sounds like a plan!”

“Now what would you like to drink?” Jack asked, looking at her with a grin.

She glanced down the table at what everyone else was drinking, shrugging her shoulders. “Surprise me.”

He nodded, looking at their end of the table to see if anyone else needed a refill. Race and Spot both held their beers up while Jack nodded.

She nodded to Smalls. “How many drinks is she on?”

“Jack bought her some kind of shot to start the night off and she’s been nursing that pink fufu drink for a while.” Race shrugged. “She’s Romeo’s issue tonight since this was his grand idea.”

Kat giggled. “Of course Jack bought her a shot. It’s his signature when any of you turn 21.”

“Well since you’re the oldest of the group, it’s really you that started that tradition.” Spot pointed his beer bottle at her. “So that’s all your fault.”

Shrugging her shoulders, she grinned when a pink cocktail was put down in front of her. “Here’s a glass of whatever.”

“You don’t even know the name of it yet you’re giving it to me?” Kat rolled her eyes. “Really feeling the love, babe.”

Jack tipped his beer back. “I watched the bartender make it. He told me the name of it and I forgot. It’s got strawberry vodka and sprite in it - you really can’t go wrong.”

She took a tentative sip before nodding her head in approval. “Hey this is good.”

Smalls stumbled over to the other side of the table, before almost falling into Jack’s lap. “I love you guys so much! You’re the best brothers and sister a girl could ask for.”

Taking a sip of her drink, Kat was thrown back to her own 21st birthday. It actually kind of sucked because she was the oldest of their friends and she was the only one legally able to drink but that didn’t stop her friends from making it a memorable one.

“You okay?” Jack nudged her shoulder with a grin.

Nodding, she sipped her drink. “Just thinking back to my 21st birthday. That seems like so long ago.”

“It was 6 years ago, Kat.” Spot gave her a grin. “You’re not that old yet.”

Flipping him off, she shook her head. “Not that - we were so damn carefree and almost reckless back then. I don’t know how I survived that night but you three weren’t much better if I recall correctly.”

“I thought mama was going to kill us.” Race chuckled. “We ended up in a tent in the backyard somehow and she was banging pots and pans the next morning at 8am. I will never forget her laugh that morning at our discomfort.”

They all involuntarily shiver at the pots and pans and the laughter. They all looked at the end of the table where Chance, Smalls, Romeo and Specs were all laughing at something. Oh to be young again.

Two hours later

She was on her third pink drink. And she was fully feeling it’s effects. Leaning against Jack, she was blowing bubbles with her spit while Race and Spot both laughed. “If only your students could see you now.”

Sitting up, her hand hit the table as she looked wide eyed around the bar. “God no! That’ll be bad, bad, bad, Spottie.”

“Don’t get her worked up.” Jack practically begged giving his brother and brother-in-law a look. “I actually want to get some sleep tonight.”

She ran her hand through his hair with a grin. “Wanna hear something?”

“What?” Jack, Spot and Race all looked at her with mild interest at what was to come out of her tipsy mouth. “Jack Daniel, the founder of the whiskey died from kicking a safe. When he kicked it, he broke his toe which got infected. He eventually died from blood poisoning.”

Race started laughing, leaning against Spot. “How? Where did you learn that?”

“One of my students told me - I just remembered it.” She shrugged. “Wanna hear something else?”

Shrugging their shoulders, they all grinned. “Octopuses and squids have beaks. The beak is made of keratin – the same material that a bird’s beak, and our fingernails are made of.”

Spot raised an eyebrow at Jack. “Dude, she’s spotting off random facts while tipsy. Does she do this often?”

“Only when she’s had a few.” Jack smiled. “That’s why she’s so good at trivia nights.”

They had to quit trivia nights as a group due to Katherine crushing them all anytime they played.

“Did you know during the Prohibition era, the U.S. Government allowed Whiskey to be sold through pharmacies?” Kat grinned. “That’s how Walgreens grew from 20 retail stores to almost 400.”

Jack chuckled. “It always amazes me that she became an English teacher instead of a history teacher.”

“Why do you think she always includes these random facts as extra points on her exams?” Spot asked, giving Jack a goofy smile. “She wanted to get some of that random knowledge to the kids.”

“There is a town in Nebraska called Monowi with a population of one. The only resident is a woman who is the Mayor, Bartender and Librarian, did you know that Jack?” She got off her chair sticking her tongue out at him. “I’m the Queen of the ….”

Race and Spot simultaneously both gasped and laughed as she stumbled almost falling to the ground. “And that’s our cue to head home. Katherine, dear, lets go!”

“Awww you're a party pooper Jack Kelly!” She pouted, throwing an arm around his shoulder. She grinned watching Race and Spot both stand to give her a hug.

“Race, tell my fiancé that he’s a party pooper.” Kat pouted, throwing her arms around him.

Kissing the side of her head while giving her a hug, he grinned. “He’s trying to save some of your dignity sweetheart. Love him for it.”

“Love you Race.” She sighed before moving onto hug Spot. “Love you Spottie. See you tomorrow.”

Spot promised he would see her before she stumbled to Jack’s side. Walking over to Smalls, they said their final goodbyes, before he led her out to the cooler air.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, she threw her arms around his shoulders before burping in his face with a giggle. “Oops! Sorry! I love you Jack Kelly.”

“Love you too, Kat.” He grimaced. “Let’s get you home.”

He shouldered most of her weight as they made their way home. Once safe inside, he picked her up bridal style before dropping her onto the bed. “Come on let’s get you changed and ready for bed.”

Once changed, he tucked her in before getting himself changed. “Jack?”

“Yea babe?” He crawled into bed, pulling her closer to his chest.

She yawned. “Did you know that humans are the only animals that blush?”

“I didn’t know that.” He chuckled. “How about you close your eyes and go to sleep? You’ve got to be at Race and Spot’s by 9 tomorrow.”

Tucking her head under his chin, she sighed sleepily. “Love you Jack.”

“Love you too Kat!” He kisses the top of her head before closing his eyes, letting sleep carry him away.

Thanks for sending in the prompt @cutesiewoojin!!!

#newsies #newsies fan fiction #writing #asks #prompts #drunk katherine is my favorite #jack kelly #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #teacher Katherine #Teacher Spot #Spot teaches science #Katherine teaches English #alcohol

[cxrinav]

( cis female & she/her & 24) — Is that Madelyn Cline ? No , that’s Corina Villarreal . They have been living in Kildare for twenty-four years and consider themselves to be a Kook . While they can be considered Deceptive , you know they’re in a good mood when they’re blasting Toxic by Ashnikko . Stay safe . There’s a storm coming . ( ooc info : vee , 21 , she/her , gmt+2 )

b a s i c s : 

.    FULL NAME: Corina Dominique Villarreal 

.    DOB: 29.12.1997

.    ZODIAC SIGN: capricorn 

.    SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual , heteroromantic 

.    ALIGNMENT: chaotic evil 

.    VISUALS & PLAYLIST (tbd.)

b a c k g r o u n d : 

TW: FAMILY DEATH ; FRAUD 

also this is very long because i tend to ramble a lot , so if you don’t feel like reading the whole thing i’ve included a little summary after the background section

born on the side of the island where you need two jobs to barely make it through the month , corina had a humble start . mommy had a small sandwich shop that could barely cover the bills , while dad worked as a fisherman . love for water was inheritable , as only at the tender age of six corina could confidently ride a boat . mommy , as c romantically would always say , was a mermaid -- always in the water and in love with the sealife . they didn’t have much , but it was enough for them to be happy . 

it’s 2007 , and mommy grows sicker by the second . she no longer enjoys the water so much and has a hard time appearing in the shop . dad is worried , because the fisherman money can barely cover mom’s medical bills and is pulling on threads to make the month . in the meantime , corina watches 50 first dates for the hundredth time in the living room , wondering if she hurts her head as bad , maybe the knight in shining armour will appear and shield her from the pain she so masterfully hides when around the men in the charming little trailer they called home . 

months roll by and the nights get warmer . she remembers the day like it was yesterday , when mommy finally rested forever . it was a quiet day in the house . in fact , it was weeks . no one spoke , no one dared to look the other in the eye . the boar near the dock was forgotten and her brothers barely even spoke to her . “ is it because i look so much like her ? “ she asked one day to which her dad preferred not to answer , enjoying the company of the whiskey bottle better than the constant reminder of her wife’s presence rambling next to him . 

the phone rang one day , aunt violet from paris . offering a helping hand , the woman begs daddy to let corina go to her for a few months , she needed a female presence in her life now that she lost the only one she had . he couldn’t afford the plane tickets , but luckily aunt violet was loaded , making corina wonder on the plane why exactly she never called and helped all those years . 

she had only heard stories of aunt violet’s wealth , all until she stepped foot in the lavish apartment in paris . it turns out , aunt violet was a very successful talent hunter , able to make a star out of anyone that had potential . and potential she saw , in corina’s smile , eyes and hair . 

it only took a month for corina to start appearing in fashion magazines . at the age of 11 , she had already made a name for herself . as her legal guardian , daddy was charged with the title of the girl’s  agent . the job , at first , he hated . but once the checks started piling in , he started cashing them out . her brothers were sent out to college , and as for corina and her father , at the age of 12 she was introduced to their new , bigger and better house on the other part of the island -- where you don’t need two jobs to survive but have two boats to ride . 

getting used to the new situation was uncomfortable and painful . she could no longer attend the same school with her friends , instead ‘ kook high ‘ is where she was enrolled as it was where her father believed she belonged to . the humble fisherman turned to a successful agent , all thanks to corina’s success . seeing the stardom the little girl was catapulted in , other new and aspiring models wanted to be represented by the grand and glorious benjamin villarreal . his pogue roots he hid well , making sure corina acted up to par too . they were no longer pogues , with his wife he made sure to bury their poverty too .

worked into a burnout , only thing the now sixteen year old corina wanted was to just hang out with her friends on the other side of the island . her sweet-sixteen birthday was coming up and all she wanted was to celebrate it with the people closest to her . her father , however , had other plans in mind . 

instead of her sweet-sixteen birthday , corina attended her father’s wedding . a day to remember . her breaking point . not only had he forcibly cut her ties with her friends , erased their whole life but he had now replaced the only woman in her life she had ever looked up to . this was war . 

he wanted a kook princess and a kook princess he got . drying out her account was easy -- buying cars , boats and clothes was somewhat of a pleasure , despite her being used to sneakers better than the high heels she purchased daily . getting under her father’s skin , however , was harder . no matter how much she spent , his account would triple and she’d still catch the next flight to wherever they needed her . she did .. until she stopped . 

at the age of twenty , she announces her retirement from the modelling scene , saying she’s had enough and would love to pay more attention to her academics now . daddy did not take it well , despite representing numerous successful faces , the biggest checks would be provided by corina . she returned home that day , only to be welcomed by her father . unbothered , happy , celebrating with his wife and her baby bump . the previously cheerful and bubbly corina would now look at the world with suspicion in her chocolate eyes . everyone was out to get her , in her head , to use her and her family was no different . her brothers would only call if they wanted to meet someone from corina’s popular circle . her father would only smile if he wanted to send her off to hollywood to do a commercial for a brand she despised . so , when she stared at the two with scepticism , she had the full right to do so . 

you see , the once humble fisherman now did not represent even a drop of his usual golden-hearted self . a greedy , miserable man living a polished , sparkling light . so when he clinked his glass of champagne with corina and announced she will no longer have access to her trust-fund until the age of 25 and atop of that will continue working , the smile off her face vanishes . she had a fill a mold , so she can have access to the money she worked for all those years . this was war and she was no longer winning . 

      S U M M A R Y : she was born on the pogue side of the isle , until the age of twelve , when her modeling career sky-rockets and they move out to the kook side . her mother dies when corina is 10 years old and her father turns from a humble fisherman to a successful talent-agent . 

p e r s o n a l i t y : 

corina grew up a very funny , bubbly and lovable little girl . she would always hang around water , make her own puka shell necklaces and would always braid the hair of the neighbouring little kids . after her mother’s death , she became even more loving . making sure to provide love to everyone that needed it , since she barely felt it herself . always giving and always smiling . 

after her career catapulted and her father forced her outside of her comfort zone , the girl became cautious and suspicious . she’d ever talk with people closest to her , would never break a smile to a stranger like she once would . and when her father finally buried everything of their previous lives , an otherwise foreign for her viciousness appears . would stumble upon everyone and everything to get her way and make sure she had secured herself . would rarely offer a helping hand if she doesn’t gain something herself and would never trust someone unconditionally . a lone-wolf , surrounded by hundreds of people . many think she’s their friend , while her heart only longs for the people she forcibly lost . has a few true friends on the kook side of the island , but is suspicious of these people too since she believes everyone is out to use and abuse her . no one is a friend , in her mind , she lives along foes . 

would be her true self when alone . still makes puka shell necklaces on the family’s yacht where no one would see her . breaks a joke or two and would ever laugh wholeheartedly when drunk . attends every event and has tried every intoxicating substance that would help her forget how lonely she really feels .

#outerbanksfmintro #this is so long omg #but give this a like and i'll come to you !!

[delphineh]

DELPHINE HOLLOWAY / “DELTA HERNÁNDEZ”; STATISTICS, BACKSTORY & SOME CONNECTIONS.

Rose here! I knoow, this is super late but I can’t begin to rant about how hectic the past few days have been. Anyway, I’m so excited to introduce you to my 3rd muse, a detective transferred into Red Ridge three months ago to infiltrate Valencia. They’re posing as a street rat & generic af bartender but are having their ears open for the opposite team.

trigger warnings: child abandonment, child neglect, domestic violence, alcoholism, ptsd.

STATISTICS:

TRAITS & BACKSTORY:

full, real name: delphine ann davidsen holloway.

undercover name: delta hernández ( hernández was their great grandmother’s maiden name, a family tree too old to track but one that allows them to hold their identity close. )

nickname: delphi, little elf, del, d, dee.

gender & pronouns: non-binary & they/she.

age: 35 30.

birthday: november 28th, 1985. ( though their fake id writes january 14th, 1990. )

sexual orientation: homosexual.

romantic orientation: homoromantic.

relationship status: single.

occupation: detective bartender in the kitten club.

affiliation: law enforcement valencia.

rank: undercover street rat.

delphine’s origins became known to them only because they were five years old when their mother ( a 20-year-old prostitute who’d gone homeless since having them ) left them outside of st. david’s orphanage. she’d been raising them all by herself until then. a crumpled letter was stuffed inside their bee-shaped bag, along with a couple changes of clothes and a picture of the two of them. “promise me you’ll keep this. promise me, delphi! read it when you’re eighteen. then you’ll understand, i swear you will!” 

positive personality traits: protective, clever, loyal, brave, hard-working, determined, perceptive, confrontational.

negative personality traits: obsessive, cunning, emotionally closed-off, irruptive, distrusting, blunt.

their clothes and their bag were stolen away as soon as they were assigned to a bed, and that letter was first read when they were 14 years old and in desperate need of crumbs that’d help them endure the abuse and fight tooth and nail for their adoptive sister — or encourage them to do something about it ( but more about that in a minute ). in that letter, their mother apologized for not knowing who their father was but told them to always be close to ‘her’ heritage ( as a toddler they were still going by the “she/her” pronouns exclusively, completely unaware there was a word to express the complexity of their identity and its understanding beyond one’s genitalia ). she told them that their grandma was mixed dominican, chinese and african, and their grandpa ashkenazi jewish with roots in central europe. she wrote down the tale about how she lost them both young and ended up in the streets, alone, having nothing but her heritage and childhood memories. “i worry, little elf.. i’m so sorry. your life would’ve been so difficult either way... i know leaving you will make it worse. but i promise you, i didn’t have another choice.” then, she explained that she owed money to the wrong people and that she’d end up dead because of it. “watch out for them, delphine. watch out for the valencia. don’t ever make a trade with them. don’t ever cross paths with them. now that you’re 18, leave if you can. i beg you.” if delphine had waited until 18 to read that letter, their life wouldn’t have changed like it did.

jumping back to the orphanage for a moment: it wasn’t pretty. in that particular institution, they weren’t treated like children, but like numbers. they were punished like them, too. if one child got in trouble, nobody ate. if one kid stayed up late, all of them were violently woken up in the middle of the night to do chores as punishment. if one kid threw up or tossed their food, the rest wouldn’t eat. their clothes never changed, their days never changed. all delphine had was themselves and kara, an orphan two years younger than them. an almost violent urge to protect each other surfaced, attaching them at the hip. they wouldn’t go anywhere without each other; they’d never let anyone else tear them apart.

delphine was eight years old when they were adopted in a new household with kara. for a little while, they thought their prayers had been answered. a couple of weeks with their new parents, however, were enough to shake them both back into reality: these people were somehow even worse than the child care takers in st. david’s. the only reason they adopted them was to get their hands on their adoptive grandmother’s will, since their adoptive father’s sibling didn’t have children either. while that matter was on the table, they pretended to be loving, caring and protective. behind closed doors, though.. the story was different. 

almost three years later, their adoptive grandmother dies and the couple inherits her house and her savings. that money is quickly spent in unnecessary luxury while delphine and kara were still left starved, dirty and uneducated. unfortunately the emotional and physical abuse worsened, if only by the certainty that nothing could take away from these awful people what they’d inherited and by the hard limits blurred due to the influence of alcohol ( their new wine celar became their adoptive father’s favorite hang-out spot ).

the breaking point came in 1999, 6 years after the two were adopted. delphi is 14 years old, locked inside their room with kara on their side, and their mother’s letter is barely hanging by a thread on the teen’s shaky hands. they pick up the phone and call the police to report domestic abuse.

somehow, returning to the orphanage seemed like the better option in comparison to staying there another minute. it never became easier: they’d spent six years where their health and education was neglected. most of the kids they used to know were adopted or left as soon as they became adults legally. delphine had a plan though: as soon as they turned 18 too, they’d grab kara and get out of there. ( maybe that other girl their age could join them, too. the one they couldn’t stop thinking about. ) they’d steal books from the library and then, when kara would be of age too, they’d work two jobs or three to finally get into the police academy. they’d make sure to protect the same way they wished to be protected and, eventually, they’d return in red ridge and lock behind bars those who tore them away from their mother. for the first time in their life, there’s a plan. a plan that revives the lost hope inside of them that everything would be alright.

two years later, delphine was adopted by a middle-aged couple, the holloways, who owed a small cottage at the borders of red ridge. delphi was 16 years old, and the oldest kid to ever be adopted in such an old age. on the outside it looked like a slim shot that hit the bullseye, but delphi had no good experiences to draw from and they didn’t want to leave their first love behind. at least escaping that new place with kara when the time came would be far easier than breaking out of the orphanage, right?

kara never joined; they weren’t supposed to. the couple had adopted delphine alone which meant that, legally, their ties to the orphanage are cut.

for all the years of suffering that they’d endured, for every trauma induced by a fist, a foul word or a disgusted look at their direction, scarring the very pits of their soul, losing kara was what broke them. they’d been taken away, they were forced to break their promise. delphine left them without their will and, in their book, it was all the holloway’s fault.

several months passed before their hatred and ptsd could “subdue” enough, just so that they could stop fearing for the curveball to drop and the couple to change; so they could see that the holloways were genuinelly good people: they gave them their own room, clean and tidy, new clothes just for them, and cooked tasty food for them every day. they had a garden in their cottage where they grew their own vegetables and showed delphi how to do it too. the holloways helped them research their heritage and encouraged them to sign into a public school to eventually graduate and live the experience, even though they’d be older than their classmates and catching up would be a very difficult task that required specific, careful treatment. 

eventually, with time, patience and care, delphine let their guard drop. school isn’t easy when your classmates are several years younger and annoying for the most part, but walking back home was something they looked forward to. they heard stories upon stories about their life and told them what they’d read about their heritage along with the very few things they remembered before their mom left them. the holloways didn’t understand why delphine found the term “girl” wrong and limiting, but they slowly accepted it. and, when hiding such a big part of themselves became too overwhelming, they came out and were faced with acceptance, respect and love. when they finally asked the couple why they’d picked them, their response was way more practical than they’d imagined: they didn’t realize they wanted kids until they were too old to have them naturally, and they didn’t have the physical strength anymore to raise a baby on their own either. what they wanted was some company and someone to take care of their humble property after they’d be gone, if they wanted. and they wanted to help a kid who didn’t get a proper chance before into becoming something, someone they’d be proud of.

it’s june of 2006 when 21-year-old delphine graduates high school. in october of the same year, they leave for denver, colorado, and start training in the police academy there. ( it’s their desire for some change of scenery, for seeing something outside of red ridge, for meeting people who couldn’t look at them with pity in their eyes because they didn’t know their story. it’s a plea to forget about the fact that they hid behind some bushes all night and day when kara’s birthday came, but they never saw them break out. it’s the fact that they burged in and demanded to see them, only to find out they’d escaped a year ago. )

life continued pretty normally until 2019: delphine has a tight grasp of who they are and what they want from life. they’re settled in denver, their continuous, almost restless hard work promotes them to a detective with an excellent arrest rate at the age of 34, and they’re engaged to the woman of their dreams; someone they met in law enforcement years ago. their goal of returning back on red ridge eventually isn’t forgotten, nor the hope that maybe their long lost sister could be there somewhere. but they need to talk about it, them and their fiancee.

their undercover story is simple: their name is delta hernández, age 30 ( as written on their fake id ). they were dropped at an orphanage in oregon as a newborn and have no idea who their parents are. they were quickly adopted by a shitty family and, when they discovered they were adopted, they escaped: an outlaw going rogue all around nevada by jumping on rvs and making friends with strangers. they settled on red ridge recently because they like how valencia seems to be toying with the cops. they work as a bartender because they’re a better listener than talker and because they never went to high school. favorite color, blue.

the talk happens. they want to return home, settle there, and do undercover work. their fiancee wants to stay in derver and start a family with them after marriage. a schism pulls them apart; they do want children eventually, too. but not yet. they can’t yet. they need to make sure something is done about the situation in red ridge before that. the engagement breaks, the relationship ends and, with nobody holding them back, delphi requests that transfer.

SOME CONNECTIONS:

unbreakable vow — taken by @roadklls​: kara and delphi were taken into the same foster home together when they were both very little. they went through hell together for a few years because it turned out that this family wanted to adopt them only to get their hands on their parents’ will. delphi called the police eventually so they were taken from them and placed back in the orphanage. they both thought that if they were to get adopted again, they’d be together. alas, delphi was adopted into a loving home alone and they never saw or heard from kara again.

ex fiancee — open: female or non-binary. they worked together in law enforcement and eventually got together. their relationship seemed perfect, with delphi experiencing the happiest years of their life. when she/they proposed, they agreed to marry them with their eyes closed. however, they eventually discussed that delphi wanted to return in red ridge and go undercover, while their partner wanted to stay in derver and start a family with them right away. they took their seperate ways and delphi was transferred in red ridge.

forbidden ties — 3/10 taken by @trialls​, @hopesiick​, @jacobsgraham​: for a cop, they don’t trust all of their co-workers completely. in their book, there are two types of cops: those who have the same driving force to do good and bring criminals to justice, and those who crave their authority to overpower people. once they’ve judged a character to belong in the first category, they feel like themselves with them than with anyone else. this is a group of co-workers who have their back and vice versa. if it weren’t for them being undercover, they could even be friends.

first love — open: female or non-binary. this is delphine’s first love. she/they are the same age as them and they met at st. david’s orphanage. the two started dating at 14 and got into a very intense, co-protective and passionate teenage relationship that was cut short when delphine was adopted at 16.

unforgotten — 0/2 taken: other kids from st. david’s orphanage who know delphi’s real story. it’d be glorious if one of them is involved with valencia in the present and essentially blows her cover at the right time.

#redridgeintro #domestic abuse tw #child abandonment tw #child neglect tw #ptsd tw #alcoholism tw

[mrsdeanwinchester19]

Chapter 1: The Phantom of the Castle

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ writing challenge

Steve x reader, dark!Bucky x reader

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I took my mom to see Phantom of the Opera for her birthday and was inspired.  There will be more chapters to come :)

           “Presenting, her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of Astrana!”

           I take a deep breath and walk through the giant double doors.  A loud cheer erupts from the nobles below, but I know a lot of the enthusiasm is fake.  I just turned 21; I am now of legal age to take the throne without a regent should anything happen to my father, which means a lot of them lost their chance at stealing the crown.  I descend the stairs and my father greets me at the bottom.

           “You’re just as beautiful as your mother was at her 21st birthday party.  Shall we?”

           In Astrana, it is a tradition for the princess to dance with her father, or closest person she has to a father, at her birthday party.  I set my gloved hand in his and he leads me through the crowd, despite the fact that they part like the Red Sea as we walk through.  My father pulls me to the center of the dance floor and we begin to sway back and forth.  The long red skirt of my dress brushes along the floor as we dance.  My eyes wander around the room as we dance. Lots of men around my age who are known bachelors.  

           “Father, did you invite every bachelor within 100 miles of court?”

           “No, that would be ridiculous.  The range is much farther than 100 miles.  Prince Thor of Asgard is here, but his journey was the longest distance. You need a man at your side who would make a good king.”

           I know he means no malice in his words.  He knows I’m perfectly capable of ruling the country of Astrana on my own, but the nobles are weary of any single royal, considering heirs need to be produced, and having a man willing to share the throne with me would only strengthen my rule.  However, he must be someone that the nobles would approve of, otherwise they could hire people to stage a coup.  

           “I know father, I just always hoped to marry for love and not duty alone,” I say to him sadly as the dance ends.  

Once it’s over, everyone starts clapping and my father begins speaking, “It is now time to present the chandelier to Princess Y/N.”

In Astrana, it’s a tradition for every daughter to receive a chandelier on her 21st birthday party.  It was because a king long ago, whose daughter was his only connection to his late Queen, claimed that she was the light of his life during those dark times after she passed.  He gifted her a chandelier to prove it to her.  Now, it’s become a tradition.  A bit silly as what use do I have for a chandelier, especially one as big as the one that they present to me by ripping off the cloth covering it.  

The chandelier is ornate, covered in glittering diamonds that reflect as much light as the chandelier is producing itself.  The crowd gasps and applauds again.  As it’s raised above the crowd, an organist is playing a song that turns out sounding more ominous than joyful. Once the crowd quiets down, my father speaks again, “It is now the time for the princess to dance with each eligible bachelor. She chooses who she dances with first.”

Internally, I begin to panic. I wasn’t prepared for this.  There are only two men I would want to dance with right now.  My first love, who I haven’t seen in 7 years, or my own personal guardian angel, whose presence I can feel in the castle.  My father told me stories of him once in a blue moon when I was a child. A knight who sacrificed himself to save my father during the Great War by pushing him out of the path of a grenade. After that, he became kind of a legend. Any time someone escaped death, they thanked the Knight.  However, some people began blaming him for deaths of people around the castle who were often healthy.  They said that his ghost was angry at others who survived the war, or didn’t have to go to war and lived a life of luxury in the castle.  However, if that were the case, I would be dead, considering the nobles treat me as a china doll rather than an actual person.  Growing up, it seemed like I could always sense his presence around me, and I felt safe, never threatened.  I used to dream of him, and I considered him my own guardian angel. In my dreams, he would dance with me, teaching me how, because I wasn’t able to learn from the dance teacher my father hired. Right now, I wish he was alive and here tonight so I could dance with him.

Instead, I walk up to someone I know, “King Thor, will you honor me with the first dance?”  Thor is a friend of mine, and he isn’t an eligible bachelor, but only I know that he isn’t.  He’s engaged to a woman named Lady Jane, but doesn’t want anyone to know about her to keep her out of danger.  Once they’re married, everyone will know, but for now he’s keeping her out of the spotlight.  

Thor leads me to the dance floor and bows as I curtsy, and we begin to dance.  He places his hand respectfully on my waist and holds my hand while I set my other on his shoulder.  He spins me around and says, “You actually look 21 now.”

“Yeah?  Well it would’ve been nice if you had dressed up,” I joke, adjusting his golden epaulette that had begun to slide.  

“Oh really?  Where did you get that dress, a chambermaid?”

I laugh and say, “It’s been too long since we were last together.”

“Yes it has.  I’ve missed you.  See any bachelors you plan to dance with?”

“Thor, you know I have to dance with them all.  And I know you’re not available, but I think when I’m done dancing with you the group of girls next to the grand staircase are going to eat you up.”

“Should I make a run for it?”

“Good luck with that, they’re blocking the exit,” I laugh.  The dance comes to an end and Thor bows once again.  I turn around and see men straightening their jackets and adjusting their collars while smiling at me.  I sigh. This is going to be a long night.

 I collapse into the chair in my chambers, the exhaustion from the night finally catching up to me.  I lean my head back and close my eyes, too tired to change out of my dress.  Someone very gently begins taking off my shoes and rubbing my tired feet.  I lift my head and open my eyes to see Natasha, one of my ladies in waiting and best friend since childhood, taking them off for me.

“Your father is looking for you,” she says quietly.  “I figured you would be hiding away in your room.  I think he wanted to congratulate on making a good impression tonight. Either that or there’s someone who wants to court you formally.  You did fantastic tonight; I thought you couldn’t dance.  How are you practically a professional?”

“I have a new tutor.”

“Did your father hire a new one?  Or are you taking secret lessons?”

“No, father once spoke of an angel, he’s been teaching me.  I can sense his presence even now.”

“Y/N you must have been dreaming.  Stories like this can’t come true.”

“He’s real, I know he is! He has…the most beautiful blue eyes” I argue.

“Your brain must have been remembering what your dance tutor taught you and changed it to someone you didn’t hate.  And your first love had blue eyes, but you can’t keep waiting for him.”

“He’s going to come back, I know it.  And it’s true, I don’t like Brock tutoring me.”

“He prefers to be called Lord Rumlow,” she says.

“I find royalty who insist on using their title are the same ones who abuse their servants,” I say with disgust.  I sit down at my dressing table and begin brushing the curls from my hair.  There are rumors about Brock beating his servants; no one truly wants him to stay at court, but he is a nobleman.  However, only by blood, because there’s nothing noble about the evil man.  His great-grandfather was rewarded with lands for services rendered the crown.  His grandfather continued to serve the crown, but Brock and his father thought themselves too good for work, and lived off the money their ancestors had accumulated while only getting richer from the fertile farmland.  

Natasha sighs and says, “I know your father wanted to break the news, but Lord Rumlow has formally requested to court you.”

I freeze, then resume brushing the curls out.  “No,” I say harshly.

“I knew you would say that. I’ll go tell your father,” she says before quickly exiting the room.

I reach behind me and unclasp my necklace.  I should have told Nat to take it back with her, considering it is part of the crown jewels, and set it on my desk.  I take off my heavy dress and put my nightgown on instead.  Instead of leaving the nice dress on the floor, I pick it up and lay it over the chair, then throw my robe on over my nightdress.  Natasha or my father should be back soon, so I examine the diamonds in the necklace while I wait.

My door opens and I assume it’s Natasha, but a male voice surprises me.  “Where is your scarf?”

I turn around and see a tall, well-built blonde man in my room.  “I beg your pardon?”

“Your scarf, your red scarf. Surely you couldn’t have lost it.”

I stand up and subtly reach behind me to grab the dagger hidden in my drawer.  “Who are you and how did you get into my room?”

“You don’t recognize me? I suppose that makes sense, considering last time I saw you we were 14 and I was dripping wet from jumping into the sea to save your scarf.”

I look into his blue eyes and gasp.  “Steven!” I exclaim, running over and jumping into his arms.

He lifts me off the ground and buries his face in my neck.  “Hello my angel.”  Steve always called me his angel.  After I told him the stories my father told me, he said the only angel he needs to protect him on the battlefield is me.

I hug him back as tight as I can, breathing in his calming scent that I never forgot.  He sets me down and I look at him, keeping my hands on his shoulders, when I realize how big he’s gotten.  “When-how did you-?  Why didn’t you come to the party?”

“My carriage was delayed. I wish I would have made it on time, I heard you had to dance with every man there.”

“Well, had you been there, I would have only danced with you,” I say, looking into his bright blue eyes. Not as striking as my angel’s eyes, but just as beautiful.

He smiles and says, “I want to take you out.  Put on a warm dress and we’ll go for a walk in the garden.”

“Right now?”

“I’ve waited 7 years to see you again.  Please don’t make me wait another day,” he says, gently holding my hand.  

After I debate with myself for a moment, I relent, “Okay, let me put on a dress and some shoes.”

He smiles even more brightly and leaves the room to wait in the hall.  I walk into my dressing room and grab my red wool dress with vines stitched over it.  I stand in front of the mirror and examine my face and figure, checking to make sure I look good for him.  Suddenly, the candles in my closet all go out, as if a gust of wind blew in.  I freeze, looking around in almost complete darkness, wondering what happened.  I look back in the mirror, only to see it has fogged over so much that I can’t even see my own reflection anymore.  However, a figure starts to take shape in the mirror.  Not my figure, but a man; broad shoulders and thick thighs. The fog clears and I can see the man’s face; it’s my angel.  In my dreams, I never saw his face, only his eyes because the bottom half of his face was covered in a black mask, just like it is now.  Wisps of hair brush against his chin, slightly covering his eyes, but the blue continues to pop out.  Without saying a word, he holds his hand out, palm up, as if for me to take it.  I reach out, expecting to touch the mirror, but instead my hand rests in his gloved hand.  His hand gently tightens around mine, and he pulls me forward.  I step forward, and that’s when I realize the reason I couldn’t see my reflection was because the mirror swung forward, and what was pouring out was smoke, not fog.  Once I’m inside a hallway dimly lit with candles, the mirror swings shut behind me. We begin walking and he grabs a candelabra from an indent in the stone wall.  I have no idea where we’re going, but I trust my angel.  

 *Steve’s POV*

I stand in the empty hallway, waiting for Y/N to come back out.  Seeing her tonight, I almost believed it wasn’t her.  She became more beautiful than I ever thought possible, yet she doesn’t seem to know it.  She could have any man, yet she chooses me.  Yes, I am a crown prince, about to become King after the death of my father, but there are other princes was strong armies, and some who are already kings. Also, she loved me when I was 14 and extremely scrawny.  When I turned 15, I had to return to my country because my mother died.  After that, I wasn’t able to return to her because of all the responsibilities I had to take on in her absence, such as visiting children’s shelters, working with visiting dignitaries; duties that my wife will take on someday.  I must have started a thousand letters to my angel, but never sent them.  People told her I would never come back for her, though I promised I would before I left, and thankfully, blessedly, she didn’t believe them.  

Two guards walk by, and it makes me realize how long I’ve been standing here waiting.  She has to be done changing by now.  I knock on the door, but no response comes.  In fact, there’s no sound from behind the door.  I crack the door open and stick my head inside. It looks darker than it had been. I open the door wider and step inside, closing it behind me.

“Y/N?” I call out.  The room is dark and cold, all the candles in her dressing room blown out.  Her balcony door is shut and locked.  Where could she have gone?  “Angel?”

Chapter 2

#star's multi fandom follower celebration #star's multi fandom follower celebration extended dealine #Steve Rogers #Winter Solider #steve x reader #bucky x reader #natasha romanoff #royalty #au #multiple chapters

[shawn-mendes-post]

Memories

A/N: Part 4. So sorry this may seem crappy. I have been busy, but I will write the next one soon. This is unedited, just warning you. Darker theme in this chapter.

Welcome back!  Shawn Mendes, 21, and (Y/N), 20, have been friends for a while. How did they maintain their friendship? 

Where to begin? We must start at the beginning that we could find. Little is known how it all started. 

There is a picture of the two dressed up for Halloween. Shawn,5, was dressed up as Prince Eric while (Y/N), 4, dressed up as Princess Ariel. I must say they are too cute together. 

On the Late Show with Jimmy Fallon, (Y/n), was a guest and was apart of True Confessions. She was playing with Pete Davidson and John Mulaney. She confessed she 'married' Shawn Mendes.  You read right; however, (ship name) is not legally married. There was a pretend wedding where they exchanged ring pops to complete the bind. We still have hope for the two to get legally married later on in life. 

Hopefully, we can get a hold of the video. 

Shawn Mendes told interviews about how the two would always spend Christmas with each other and have their traditions. He would not go into detail because he wanted to keep their traditions private. We can respect that because it seems special to them. 

Their friendship is strong, but it was not always like that. 

Their relationship took a toll when (Y/N)  started to get intimate with a guy. We could see how Shawn did not like the guy. It could have inspired the song, Treat You Better. Could there have been feeling for each other?  The song did come out around the time the romantic relationship was formed. The music video does show an abuse relationship between the female, played by (Y/N) herself, and the boyfriend.  Shawn did not confirm or deny the allegations when fans asked. 

Not much is known about what happened that improved their friendship or convince (Y/N) to drop everything and go on tour with him.  She would join him on his tour and pictures are shown how cozy the two were. 

It would begin the rumors of the two being more than friends. However, this year Shawn became romantically involved with Camila Cabello, cutting all other rumors. The long-time best friends stopped hanging out with each other. Shawn has become invested in his new relationship with Camila that he barely mentions ( Y/N). She, on the other hand, has such kind words when talking about him and understands he has other matters to attend to. 

Overall, what happened to these two? Will they ever become more than friends? Will they become friends again? Can we expect a collab for a new song? 

XOXO 

Dawnn S.

________________________________________

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, not understanding why the media cares about her relationship with Shawn. 

She remembers all the articles about Shawn and Camila kissing or making out in the open. Yes, it aggravated her, but she tried to make her happy for him. She hated the idea of being jealous. She never got to kiss Shawn in public where everyone could see.  

She remembers the awkwardness in the beginning when they would kiss each other that certain Christmas. 

Then she did something stupid and told him to forget it. She was scared their friendship would be ruined, and the fact her parents were against them being together. He would go on tour for months but kept in contact with her. 

She would later start a relationship with Tristan, not knowing it would be a horrible idea.  Bad memories filled her mind, making her wince at the bad times with him.

It was a new year, and that meant putting the past behind her. Memories of what happened Christmas break kept playing in her head as she makes her way to class. 

"Hey," she yelled, being bumped by someone. She turns, and her eyes meet the beautiful ocean eyes she ever saw. 

He smirks, " sorry," he mumbled, running a hand through his thick curls. 

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, looking away from him as her heart beats fast. " Just watch it next time," she said, walking off, flipping her hair. She could feel his eyes digging a hole in her.  

A warm sensation grew in the pit of her belly, confusing her because she only felt like this with Shawn. 

It was not the last time she saw the mysterious boy. He would be in her classes sitting right in the back, not paying attention to the lecture. 

She had no idea why she never paid attention to him. Maybe because Shawn was with her all the time, but now he isn't. She sighs, biting her lower lip, daydreaming about the boy. 

Ring. Ring.

The bell startles her as she makes her way to the next class. However, she is stopped by the boy she was daydreaming about. 

" Want to go out?" He asked, straightforward. 

" W-what?" She asked, not believing what he asked. He smirked, knowing he caught her off guard. 

" I forgot to introduce myself. Tristan Kaspbrak. " 

" (Y/N)." 

" I saw you were staring at me during class, which must have been difficult since I sit in the back."  

( Y/N) eyes widen, blushing madly at the embarrassment he caught her. 

" I wa-wasnt. I was l-looking out the window," she said, crossing her arms. 

He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head at how cute she looked. 

" Fine, one date. Pick me up at 8. Don't be late," she mumbled walking away. 

" You never gave me your address," he yelled as she walks away. 

" Figure it out, Tristan."

***

She stood in front of the mirror, running her hands down her dress. She hoped he would find the place alright since she did not say where she lived.

She was wearing a sheer mesh and stripes keyhole front bodycon dress that showed off her curves. She waited for him to come, but he didn't.

It was 9 pm and nothing.

Another hour went by, and nothing. 

Sighing, she texted, Eddie, her friend, told her to come to a party. Deciding to go, after being stood up, she drives there.

Entering the house, music blasting, cheering her up a bit. She scanned the room, looking for Eddie, but she saw Tristan dancing with another girl. (Y/N) could not believe her eyes. He was supposed to pick her up, but here he is with another chick. She couldn't explain why it hurt her. She hardly knew him except for his name. 

________________________________________

Another Memory

The two enter his room after the date they were on. Tristan wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She could feel his body heat, the smell of alcohol on his breath. 

 He leans down trying to kiss her, but she shakes her head.

" No, you are drunk. Maybe later," she told him, pushing him away. He wouldn't stop his harassment.

The final push made him snap. Tristan was yelling at her, she was angry at herself. " Why would you do that?" 

She glanced at the floor, hugging herself, hoping he would not hit her. " I don't know." 

He grabs her angrily before throwing her on the bed. Her eyes widened in fear, her heart beating like a hummingbird. He glared at her before storming out, demanding her to stay there. 

________________________________________

Memory

He was giving her a ride home, but again he was drinking. He speeds up, not having a care in the world.

 " Tristan, slow down," she begged, not liking how fast he was going. 

" What did you say?" He asked, glaring at her, daring her to talk back at him. 

She stays silent, knowing not to say anything. Her lips open as she screams when he almost hits a pole.

He flings his hand, slapping her in the face. " Shut up. I can drive," he grumbled, stopping at her place.

She nods, knowing to listen to him. She was tired of his treatment. She wanted it over. She hated that she let him push her around. She leans to kiss his cheek, wincing at the pain before entering her home.

 Tears fall her face, wanting the world to end. She couldn't take the treatment anymore. Walking towards her room, she dials Shawn's number, hoping he answers. 

" Hello?" A groggy voice said. " Sh-Shawn?" She asked, holding back more tears for falling. 

" (Y/N), what's wrong?" He asked, getting up immediately, knowing something was wrong. 

" N-nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry to wake you," she said, tentatively.

 "It's okay. I had to wake up soon anyway. How are you?" 

She starts sobbing, scaring Shawn as he starts to frantically pack. " I'm so tired, Shawn. I can't deal with life anymore," she mumbled, walking towards her closet. 

" Shh, I'm here for you." He didn't like the sound of that. He was making his way to the airport, telling Andrew there was an emergency he had to take care of.

" I know you are, Shawn. I wish I went with you. I wouldn't be feeling this down. I just wanted to say, I love you, Shawn. Goodbye." 

" No! (Y/N) sta-" she hung up, knowing this would be better for her. She writes a note for Shawn before heading to the bathroom. Fear filled her veins as she comes to terms with what she has to do. 

She starts the water, grabbing a razor blade before starting to undress. She settled in the bathtub, closing her eyes, thinking about her life. 

________________________________________

Her phone rings, bring her out of her thoughts.  Her heart was breaking remembering the low time in her life. She wipes away the tears, she didn't even know were falling. 

She answers the phone, sniffling," hello?" 

" Hello, I am a part of the Late Late Show with James Corden. We contact your agent about you making a guest appearance. He said to talk to you." 

" Yes, I can do that. When would it be?" 

" More in December. We wanted to talk early because of how busy you are." 

She chuckled, knowing what they are talking about. " That is true. Just keep me posted, then I can make sure I am free that day. 

She sighs, deciding it was time for her to go out. She had a few hours before she had to go meet up with her Costar.  

It was a cool day in September, people were getting ready for the holidays coming up. She made a mental note to pick up some candy before going home.

***

Tom Holland was waiting for (Y/N) to come to the studio. They were filming their last scene together in the movie. 

" Hi," he said, seeing the actress/ singer, and become memorised by her beauty. 

" Nice to meet you," she said, offering her hand. He slips his own, feeling how soft her hand is. 

The two make their way to the studio, talking amongst themselves. Tom would glance at her from time to time throughout the recording because if how amazing she is. 

After the recording, Tom didn't want to go home. He wanted to spend more time with her, but she had disappeared. 

  Shawn was on tour, having the time of his life. He always felt alive singing in front of his fans because this was his passion. There was some sadness when he knew (Y/N) was not there supporting him. 

He almost dialed her number countless times, but he always stopped himself. Her words ringing in his head that made him stop. 

His family missed her too because they would always ask him what happened. He just said she needed space, and she will come back when she is ready. 

Fans were noticing as well. Some were asking personal questions about his friendship with (Y/N). He tried to change the subject since it was a painful topic.  

He didn't care what the media was writing because they didn't know the whole story. They didn't know the happy memories the two shared. The painful memories too that would scare anyone else. So yeah, he didn't care what they wrote. He knows he will always be there for her and vice versa. 

" Shawn, you are on in 10 minutes." 

Shawn looks up, noticing he was in the dressing room, getting ready for his performance. Nodding, he made his way to the stage, smiling brightly as if he was not sad. 

Taglist

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#shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes #shawn #request #reader #reading #long reads #relationship #shawn x reader #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn peter raul mendes #shawnmila #shawn x y/n #shawn x you

[alwaysawildcatxox]

Raven’s Updated Biography.

So I have decided to Update Raven’s biography so it would be true to her, since  when I reread her old one I realised I played her as the complete opposite of what I originally wrote her to be.  » ; ♛ ❮ORIGINAL CHARACTER❯ 

Character quote: ❝ A wolf is still a wolf, even in a cage, even dressed in silk. ❞

✗ — Name: Raven Avalanche ✗ — Age: 21 ✗ — Kingdom: Colombia ✗ — sexuality: Bisexual

—; Personality; Raven is the kind of person that wears her heart on her sleeve, she is extremely caring and would do whatever it takes to see the people she cares about happy. Raven also has some trust issues, so she finds it hard to trust others at first but regardless is always open to making a connection. She always puts others first and sometimes because of her good heart people tend to walk over her. She’s also really creative and loves to express her creativity through various activities. Despite the fact that she is a princess, she wasn’t raised by royal standards so therefore she tends to be a bit more humble than majority of the royals. She’s also a hopeless romantic and can get attached to people quite easily which leaves her heartbroken quite often. 

— Biography; On the rare occasions two Royals fall in love without being forced into marriage beforehand. That was what happened to Raven’s parents. Raven’s mother was the Princess of Poland and her Father was the King of Colombia. The two fell in love , got married and decided to have a child. However each story has an obstacle and here it seemed to be that Raven’s father seemed unable to have kids. No matter how many times the two tried and how many doctors they went to nothing was helping. Eventually one of the doctors suggested artificial insemination but Raven’s father wasn’t up for that idea. The married couple agreed that they will continue trying for another year slowly they were both growing tired and on the day Raven’s father wanted to tell his wife he wanted to try the artificial insemination she told him she was pregnant. They couldn’t have been happier, 9 months later their precious girl was born and in an instant became her fathers favourite thing in the world. Despite the fact her father was the only royal in Colombia he did have a younger sister that pushed away all right to the throne. Growing up Raven didn’t have the pressure that a lot of Royal kids had, her father loved her so much and wanted his daughter to follow her heart and chase after her dreams rather than stick to the rules - besides after a discussion with his younger sister they came to the conclusion that if Raven wouldn’t be willing to take on the throne in the future that she will step in and rule Colombia and pass the throne down to her children.The King tried his best to give Raven her best shot at a normal life. He always kept Raven’s identity and her nannies a secret , the people of Colombia knew that the Kings wife gave birth and they knew the girls first name since the King changed her last and saw one individual baby picture to prove that this whole thing was real, but they never saw her. Whenever Raven would be travelling with him he would make her wear big hats and sunglasses that covered her face same thing would apply to her nanny. Despite the fact Raven did have two parents she was mainly raised by her father and the occasional babysitter that would help out as her mother was always apparently too busy. One time However when Raven was only 13, she was on her way back from a trip with her father the two drove in separate cars, the King was in the car in front with his driver and one of his bodyguards and Raven was in the car behind with her nanny, her father’s trusted friend and the driver. All of a sudden a car drove straight into the car her father was in and three men in masks jumped out. Raven’s driver quickly took the fastest turn and drove away as fast as he could. The last thing Raven heard as they were driving away were five gun shots. One after the other. Her mother returned home from Poland and in an instant came up with the idea that Raven needs to be sent to a witness protection program, soon enough, enough legal people have been paid off and Raven was sent to Canada with a bodyguard to play the role as her parent. Back In Canada Raven was known as Mary Santiago, she got told not to stand out too much and thats exactly what she did. Raven was the quiet type, she loved attending extra curricular activities especially arts and crafts. Also due to the budget that both her and her ‘parent’ were on Raven couldn’t afford all the nicest clothes and buying cheap fabric costed much less so the brunette started designing her own clothes and soon enough found her absolute passion and hobby. It was fair to say that Raven wasn’t the most popular kid in class in fact she was far from it, but she also wasn’t bullied or anything in fact due to her bright nature a lot of people took a liking into the brunette and would easily talk to her. When a trip to Australia has been announced in her senior year she phoned up her mother in Colombia and practically begged her for the money so she could go too. It took days of consideration but eventually Antonio (Raven’s Bodyguard.) Received a payment onto his account and Raven was able to go on the trip.Whilst in Australia there was a party that was being thrown locally, everyone was invited so after one of the cheer girls convinced Raven to go too she got all glam’d up and headed out. It was then that Raven met Cayden Moore, the two clicked rather easily and throughout the short few day trip she would often sneak out of the hotel her year group was staying at to hang out with him. On her last night in Australia she agreed to hook up with him but when she woke up in the morning he was straight up gone, without a single note. Nothing it was like he never existed of course, the brunette felt heartbroken. She genuinely took a liking into the boy and has grown somewhat attached. When returning back to Canada Raven was desperate to move on so she started dating a girl called Nessie, the two dated for a while and eventually broke up. A year later Raven graduated college after college after studying fashion for three years. She decided to head back to Colombia to surprise her mother after only seeing her through video chats over the past years and also to finally decide what she wants to do about her position on the throne. When Raven arrived however she found out that her mother whilst being with her father had an affair with one of his closest friends called Rico and that they were now officially together too. When she arrived home she noticed everything was changed, the palace didn’t look the same in fact it had no sign of her father anywhere every picture frame held a picture of her mother and Rico, even Raven’s room was different. One day when Raven was trying to find something in the office that once belonged to her father she found documents that confirmed her father’s death wasn’t an accident but it was planned by her own mother and Rico. Soon enough Raven was sent to royal pains in order to not expose them.

✗ Secret; Raven found out that it was her mother and her father’s trusted advisor that have planned his death.

[douxreviews]

Quantum Leap - Season Two Review

"He works in mysterious ways."

While still formulaic, season two is much better than the brief leap-of-the-week season one. Scott Bakula and Dean Stockwell are a lot more comfortable with their roles, and many of the leaps are more interesting and complicated. There are also some intriguing additions to what we know about our main characters and some progress with the arc story — particularly in the premiere and the finale.

What works

Sam is enjoying leaping around and helping people. He doesn't seem to mind that he left his own life behind, although the continuing partial amnesia could be responsible for that.

Another issue they begin to address in season two is what became of Sam's physical body. In season one, the saga sell says that Sam "stepped into the quantum accelerator and vanished." In season two, we're told that Sam's physical body is in a "waiting room" back at the project, and that when he leaps, Al questions whoever just leaped into Sam's body so that he can locate where and when Sam went.

The best episodes of season two are the premiere and the finale.

2.1 "Honeymoon Express (April 27, 1960): I love this episode, mostly because of the cleverness of the twist ending. Al, whom we learn here is an admiral, is testifying before a hostile senate subcommittee responsible for further funding of the Quantum Leap Project, while Sam leaps into a cop who is on his honeymoon. Sam's bride, Diane, is a law student who is preparing for her bar exam.

Although it was mentioned in the season one pilot that God might be responsible for what is happening to Sam, here it is confirmed. Because Sam virtuously avoids hitting the sheets with Diane even though he is attracted to her, he keeps trying to help her study for the bar instead. At the very moment when Sam is ready to give in and make love with Diane, she has a breakthrough, finally grasping a key legal concept that would have made her fail the exam, and Sam leaps out. At that moment, the grumpy male head of the senate subcommittee turns into Diane, thirty years older, and she tells Al that the Quantum Leap funding has been approved. Only Al is aware that anything has changed.

Two of my other favorite shows had finales that centered on the existence of God, which didn't make me happy because it felt like a cop out. Not Quantum Leap though, because honestly, the only possible explanation for what is happening to Sam is divine intervention.

The only problem I have with this episode is the multitude of smoochfests. I did like that Sam and Al discussed the moral implications of Sam having sex with Diane, even though she wouldn't have known because she believed Sam was her husband. I also like the implied feminist message that Diane is no one's possession, and that she was destined for great things.

2.22 "M.I.A. (April 1, 1969)": Sam leaps into a San Diego cop. Al tells Sam that the purpose of the leap is to convince a Navy nurse named Beth Calavicci to not give up on her M.I.A. husband, who has been imprisoned in Vietnam for two years. But as it turns out, Sam is there to save the life of another cop, his partner, Roger Skaggs (Jason Beghe).

This episode features an exceptional and moving performance by Dean Stockwell, who ripped my heart out in the last ten minutes. Al is clearly signaling confusion and distress throughout the episode; he describes to Sam the torturous confinement that Beth's husband is experiencing without revealing that it is himself who is enduring it. When Sam guesses correctly that Skaggs is the reason for the leap, not Beth, Al confesses that Beth is his first wife and the love of his life, and when she had him declared dead and remarried, Al never recovered, and his other marriages never worked.

"God" allows Sam a few extra minutes before leaping so that Al can say goodbye to Beth, even though, of course, she can't see or hear him. He tells her how much he loves her, begs her to wait for him when we know she won't, and then they dance to Beth's favorite song. The thing is, what happens with Beth explains everything we need to know about Al, and it turns him from Sam's supportive friend and occasional comic relief into a tragic figure. Susan Diol as Beth Calavicci also does a wonderful job. We can believe she is the love of Al's life, that she is incredibly special to him, and her conflict is so well done. Sam's gentle treatment of Al, even though Al misled him and nearly caused Skaggs' death, is also touching. This episode never fails to make me cry.

The music replacement controversy, particularly regarding the episode "M.I.A."

As I mentioned in my review of season one, when Quantum Leap was initially released on DVD way back when, Universal had neglected to get the rights to a number of the songs featured on the series, simply because it was prohibitively expensive. Changing the music changes the series, and the fans were, to put it mildly, livid about it. Although the music replacement had a serious detrimental effect on "Good Morning, Peoria," the worst offender was "M.I.A." because that final scene where Al says goodbye to Beth is framed by the Righteous Brothers' "Unchained Melody" and Ray Charles' "Georgia," two memorable songs that truly cannot be replaced.

Netflix and Amazon have the original version of "M.I.A." Hulu does not. For what it's worth.

Other episodes of note

2.2 "Disco Inferno (April 1, 1976)": Not really notable, but if you're watching Quantum Leap on Hulu or Netflix, you've probably noticed that this episode is missing. I went to the trouble of buying it on Amazon because I'm hung up on that completion thing, and it's not worth it. "Disco Inferno" is about a stuntman who helps his younger brother defy their stuntman father and become a musician. The only important piece of it is that Sam remembers that he has an older brother named Tom who died fighting in Vietnam.

2.4 "What Price Gloria? (October 16, 1961)": This episode is notable because it is the first time that Sam leaps into a woman, so of course it goes the preachy route and is all about sexism. Al is hot for Sam in a woman's body, which I just found uncomfortable. What I liked most was Scott Bakula wearing women's clothing without making too much of a thing about it. It feels like for Bakula, it's just another costume and he's such a good actor that playing a woman doesn't throw him.

2.6 "Good Morning, Peoria (September 9, 1959)": I loved this episode; it was a lot of fun. Maybe it because the stakes were less life and death and more personal. Patricia Richardson does such a great job as Sam's love interest, and the romance actually works this time. It also features a lot of great old music, and Sam pretty much channeling Robin Williams in Good Morning, Vietnam.

Like "Honeymoon Express," the question of Sam having a physical relationship while he is in someone else's body is again addressed. Sam is uncomfortable about romancing Patricia Richardson's character, but he does it anyway and it turns out that it was the right thing to do.

2.8 "Jimmy (October 14, 1964)": Sam leaps into a young, developmentally disabled man who is trying to hold down his first job while encountering bullying and prejudice. The most interesting thing about this one is Sam starts acting differently, clumsily, because he is being treated that way. Possibly a little preachy, but very well done.

2.10 "Catch a Falling Star (May 21, 1979)": Quantum Leap does Man of La Mancha, with the great actor and singer John Cullum as a guest star. This episode is pretty much an excuse to have Scott Bakula sing show tunes onstage and romance his teenage crush music teacher, but there's nothing wrong with that. There was also a deeper meaning when you think about it, because Sam really is like Don Quixote, spending his life rescuing others. Wonderful episode.

2.18 "Pool Hall Blues (September 4, 1954)": Loved this one. Maybe because Sam is so convincing as an adult woman's grandfather (loved the costume). I also loved the laser lines that allowed Sam to be a brilliant pool player.

What doesn't work

I don't usually point out the badness of bad episodes, but these three are truly awful.

2.11 "A Portrait for Troian (February 7, 1971)": We have a haunting, a mysterious lake full of bodies, a vanishing housekeeper and a pointless romance, none of which work. Which is too bad, since it stars Deborah Pratt, who was a writer/producer of the series, the saga sell narrator, and later the voice of Ziggy.

2.16 "Freedom (November 22, 1970)": Another poorly written stinker about an elderly Native American who wants to go home to die. See rule five.

2.17 "Good Night, Dear Heart (November 9, 1957)": This time Sam is a mortician who solves a murder instead of preventing one, which makes absolutely no sense to me. The circumstances of the victim's life and demise are depressing, and it all seems incredibly pointless.

Bits and pieces:

-- "Sea Bride" featured the Queen Mary, which is a tourist attraction in Long Beach, California. I toured it twice and I always enjoy stumbling over stuff that was filmed there.

-- I particularly liked that his second leap into a woman's body ("Another Mother") had nothing to do with sexism; he was there to save his host's son.

-- Famous people: The Beatles and Chubby Checker. In fact, it's the real Chubby Checker, who did a cameo in "Good Morning, Peoria."

-- Notable actors: Lorne Greene (Bonanza), a teenage Kelli Williams (Lie to Me), Robert Duncan MacNeill, Marcia Cross, and Troian Bellisario when she was still a very little girl in "Another Mother."

-- Sam's hair is way too long at first, and is later a good bit shorter. But if he's in someone else's body, can he even get his hair cut? Maybe someone cut Sam's hair in the Waiting Room.

-- Small children and animals can see Al, and genuine psychics can sense his presence. Al's presence affects EMF.

-- Sam creates the Heimlich maneuver.

-- More about Sam: he was a child prodigy, not a surprise, and a concert pianist.

-- More about Al: he was an astronaut. His mother abandoned him when he was a child and his sister was disabled. Al also looks better in red than in green.

-- The cliffhanger endings referencing Sam's next leap still bother me. Especially when we get one that relates to a rerun.

To conclude

I haven't finished my rewatch yet, but "M.I.A." and the two-parter that starts season three are my favorite episodes of the series,

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.

#Quantum Leap #Sam Beckett #Al Calavicci #Scott Bakula #Dean Stockwell #Quantum Leap Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews #something from the archive

[tiny-personal-university-thing]

My {Formerly} Bad Student Story: Physical and Mental Health Almost Destroyed Me - But I’m Back and Better Than Ever

Please read if you have suffered from chronic illness/pain or with your mental health to the detriment of your education!

Where to begin?

To start, a little bit about me. I am 21 years old, and currently a junior in college at Texas Tech University. I was born and raised in Houston, Texas, but I currently go to school in Lubbock, Texas – 532 miles from where I grew up in Houston. I’m what my school calls a “University Studies” major, which means that my degree is comprised of three “disciplines.” Those include Women’s Studies, Legal Studies and Environmental Science. This is all in the hopes that I will make a well-rounded candidate for law school.

 So this is where it gets interesting; this is the “{formerly}” bad student part. Basically, I didn’t do so hot my first two years at college. I suffer from chronic nerve pain due to 6 bulged discs because of a really bad car accident I had my senior year of high school - my truck was actually totaled. Additionally, I have this autoimmune disease called Hashimoto’s. It’s also called Chronic Lymphocytic Thyroiditis. It’s not fatal - it just sucks. In fact, it’s fairly common. My mom also has it. It’s just a major lifestyle change because my thyroid is either under-functioning or over-functioning. One of the most common symptoms across the board is debilitating fatigue. One may also experience copious hair loss (from it literally breaking off), hyperthyroidism/hypothyroidism, unexplained weight gain, depression/anxiety, joint stiffness, memory lapses, or complications such as heart disease. You can’t really be cured of Hashimoto’s, you just have to do your best to keep your life in a state of equilibrium. On top of all that, I was also officially diagnosed with an anxiety disorder (GAD), my freshman year of college; however, I have suffered from high-functioning anxiety since I was in the 2nd grade. I actually tested in the 98th percentile for anxiety. With my Hashimoto’s and chronic pain severely limiting my ability to even physically get out of bed, my grades really suffered. I was involved in a total of 8 organizations my first year of college, co-founder of two (one that focuses on raising awareness about sex trafficking that I am particularly proud of), and another that raises funds to establish legal aid clinics in less developed nations. I was also an officer in three of the aforementioned organizations, including the president of my dorm. But when I started to really get sick, participating in anything became so hard. I felt my peers judging me. I knew they didn’t believe me. My anxiety, which had been dormant for a couple years, came back with a vengeance. It almost destroyed me. I became isolated. I barely left my dorm - only to feed my horse each night or to buy food on campus. Every Friday, my mother would literally beg me to go out with friends, to reach out to literally anyone. I frequently considered the possibility of taking my own life - although I would describe it more along the lines of a general desire to cease existing, or to have never existed at all. I had never been so low in my entire life. My first semester, I did decently. I managed to go to the majority of my classes, and make decent grades that didn’t raise any red flags with my family or my school. While my social life did pick up my sophomore year and I began to form the close friendships we associate with college; unfortunately, I continued to regress academically in the semesters that followed.

 But, enough about that. The fact that I was always in pain/tired to the point of delirium/constantly ill made it really hard for me to focus on school. Often, the pain or fatigue was so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t participate in the organizations I was excited about, ride my horse, play violin, or go to classes despite being eager to learn. When I did feel okay enough to go to class, I was bombarded by pervasive, irrational thoughts like “I’ve missed class for weeks, the professor/students are going to judge me when I show back up again tomorrow.” I just didn’t get it. I didn’t understand how I went from the girl who begged her mother to let her go to school when she was violently ill with the flu in 7th grade because I loved it so much, to the girl who hadn’t gone to class in so many days she lost count. I ended up having to take a semester off from school. I remained in the city where my college is and bided my time by working - serving and eventually bartending full time. While working 40+ hours per week, I also tried to find a good pain management doctor and a decent endocrinologist. By remaining in the city I went to college, I was able to maintain a facade that I was still in school. When anyone asked me about school, I kept my answers terse, and general. School was “good,” I was taking “some classes.”

 When my semester off came to an end, I actually elected to take another semester off. I was torn in my decision to do this. I felt like I was letting everyone down a second time, that I would be stigmatized as a “drop out,” and I felt like no one believed me when I said I was going back. However, in my heart I still knew that I wasn’t in that much better of a place than I was when I left school. I am so glad I made that decision.

 My second semester off, I found a good pain management doctor not far from where my mom lives. My insurance covered spinal injections frequently used to treat bulged discs, where I underwent general anesthesia and essentially my doctor went into the epidural space in my spine to administer steroids to the bulged discs that he believed to be causing my nerve pain. While these injections are temporary and I’ll have to go back and get more injections whenever the pain returns - they have brought me great relief.  I continued working my job at the restaurant and became much more financially independent. This helped me to feel like less of a burden, and much more productive, in turn helping me with my anxiety. It also felt good having money. I was able to take over paying my rent, utilities, groceries, and costs associated with my horse. I also learned about Hashimoto’s, the symptoms (intolerable fatigue, insomnia despite said fatigue, gluten intolerance, inability to lose weight, my hair literally breaking off at alarming quantities, unbearable intolerance to the cold, inflamed joints, etc.) and how to live with it.

 After that semester, I was ready and determined not to fail. As the Spring 2018 semester neared, I made an appointment to see an advisor at my university, who became one of the two advisors I saw about every 3 weeks. They knew all aspects of my life; my mental health, my physical health, my struggles with my job, my aspirations, everything. It was in meeting them that I realized my first year at Tech I made a huge mistake by only meeting with the advisor assigned to me when I had some sort of hold on my account - which was once a semester at best. My advisors have fervently supported me. I am so grateful to them for the resources and affirmation they have provided me with this semester. Additionally, I learned to be more honest about my struggles with the rest of my support system, including my family and friends. I kept the secret of my two semesters off from everyone I was related to except for my mom. Even my dad was unaware until my second semester off. I did this mostly out of shame, but now that I’m back on track I actually want to tell everyone my story.  I also learned to be honest with myself about my genuine short comings that are unrelated to my health - including my organizational skills and time management skills. Lastly, I learned to be proud of myself, even for little victories.

 This is now (as I am writing this) my first semester back at school in two semesters (not including the summer sessions). Again, I am actually genuinely proud of the work that I have put forward. I’m aspiring to make my school’s Dean’s List or President’s List every semester from now until I graduate (which, by the way, is still in 2019 - the same as it was when I first came to college, which just goes to show you that it’s okay to take time off from school if that’s what you need). I’m aspiring to graduate at least cum laude. I’m aspiring to receive at least a 172/180 on the Law School Admission Test, and I will get into law school. I know that I am capable of these things because of the time I took away from school to better myself. Finally, my hope is that other college students facing similar adversities will be able to resonate with me, realize that college is not a race (you are under no obligation to be out in exactly four years or less), and see that they absolutely can overcome their obstacles.

Finally, I am certain that my struggle is not rare. I know that some of you may struggle with anxiety or depression. I know that some of you may suffer from chronic illness or pain that peers your age cannot truly relate to. I know that some of you may fear disappointing your family. I would like to add that I am here for you. I can promise you that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. If anyone - ANYONE - feels like they need someone to talk to, please feel free to reach out to me. I am up at all hours of the day and night usually. If you need just general advice, I got you. I hope that my story resonates with some of you.

My Story will be permanently linked to my blog via the “My Story” tab. As always, happy studying, fellow realistic students. And thank you again for 100+ followers. I am overwhelmed by your continued support. 

#student story #my story #personal #studyblr #anxiety #gad #generalized anxiety disorder #mental health #physical health #studyblog #hashimotos #autoimmune disease #does this make me a #spoonie #? #student #college #studyblr community #motivation #school #study blog #new study blog #new studyblr #new studyspo #student motivation #realistic studyblr #realistic studyspo

[monotonemanday]

Star Crossed Entertainers - Part 21

IT’S HERE! Y’all I know that the last chapter came out in March. But it’s back! Thank you for your patience! I was actually so excited about this chapter that it got way long and I had to break it into two! So tomorrow chapter 22 will be back as well.

I’m going to tag @lonesandkorn so she doesn’t chop my head off.

And @7ong0stacy7 and @zennyshoneybunch who have been reading from the beginning. Also since Helena has been calling me a lazy ass -_- Thank you lovelies so much!

Enjoy!~

"Knock, Knock! Don't get too excited! It's just me...again." Kaeli poked her head inside of the door to the C&R directors office. Smiling brightly at the guards by the doors she hastily made her way to her favorite seat in Jumin Han's office. She was now here on a weekly basis and it was honestly exhausting. However, it was part of her duties now. Samantha was nearly at a full recovery but Kang Dae was not comfortable with her going out for any kind of business dealings. Whether they were of the legal variety or not. He didn't think she was very stable. She had become more and more harsh. Cold. Angry. And the reason Kaeli was sitting in front of Jumin Han's desk was specifically because Kang wasn't sure where or who was conjuring this behavior from Samantha.

"Your outfits have continuously gotten more professional, Kaeli." Jumin's response was casual and he didn't even bother looking up from the documents he was sorting. Kaeli let out an exasperated sigh and closed her hands into fists on her lap. She knew she was not supposed to talk about Samantha or anything that had happened. If that was allowed, Sam could just show up at C&R herself. Sam was very clear to Kaeli with this request but this was getting out of hand. Kaeli knew she had to have this unpleasant conversation.

"Jumin, I am going to have to ask that if you don't have real business with Kang Kare that you stop calling myself or any  of our representatives here." The petite blonde had stood up from her seat to meet the director head on. She wasn't the same Kaeli from a month or so before. She had grown into her own person. She wasn't a fragile little flower anymore. With Samantha in the hospital and having to deal with a long recovery period, she took her place. And it was terrifying at the start. Kaeli saw first hand the kind of men Samantha dealt with on a daily basis. How emotionless and calculated you had to be to not falter under the pressure. How charming and well-spoken you had to be to get things turned in your favor. She knew that Samantha had learned from the best but she also knew a lot of the way her best friend Sammy was, she learned on her own.

"I don't know where that notion came from Kaeli, but of course I have real business with..." Abruptly cut off by Kaeli, Jumin sat at his desk, knowing that she very much wanted him to only listen.

"I'm smarter than I look, Jumin." Kaeli found her way back to her seat and pulled it all the way up to the edge of Jumin's desk. "She's not coming. No matter how many times you try to get her here. No matter how many times you call for an executive from our office. No matter how many times you try her cell phone. Or try to coax Zen into giving you updates on her. Or Yoosung." Kaeli smirked at him slightly when his head shot up. Embarrassed he had been caught. "I can't explain it. I can't even begin to fathom what you two have gone through. Or what the trouble is between you two. All I know..." With a sharp inhale and a slow exhale she prepared to give Jumin what she assumed would be a devastating blow. "Is that Samantha doesn't want to see you again. And she has made it very, very clear."

"Kaeli, I know that you have loyalty to her. And I wouldn't want to disrespect that. You are one of the most important people to her. Your relationship can withstand anything. I have a friendship like that as well. But please. I am begging you. Where is she? What is she doing? How is she spending her time? I need to speak to her. If only once, so be it. She told me...we..." Jumin had lost himself. Staring out the window he remembered the last time he had seen Samantha. The night at the hospital. The intimacy they shared. "She loves me, Kaeli. I know she does. And I won't accept her leaving like this."

Kaeli watched Jumin walk over to the window. His back to her. She didn't see the handsome and debonair bachelor that was the name on everyone's lips. She saw a man broken and defeated inside, but so desperately trying to crawl out of the dark pit her best friend left him in, still coming out strong, capable, and on top. She opened her mouth to offer him the only words she could muster when there was a knock on the office door. Before Jumin could answer, a security guard opened the door hastily.

"Forgive me Mr. Han but you have a visitor. I thought you would want to see them immediately."

Kaeli stood up from her seat and both her and Jumin began to move closer to the door. There was no way...

"Jumin, my most precious friend."

Kaeli let out the large breath she was keeping to herself and Jumin's shoulders became less tense as the person that walked out from behind the security guard was a handsome mint haired man, and not Samantha.

"I must apologize, I told them that I could wait if you were busy. They were persistent, however. Apparently, you have been trying to get a hold of me?" V laughed and smiled brightly. Jumin didn't match his demeanor.

"Where have you been, V? Do you understand how worried I have been? How hard I have been trying to get in contact with you? Why are you here? Why now?"

V was shocked at his friend's attitude and Kaeli gently cleared her throat. God, she wanted to get out of there, but instead, Jumin made it more uncomfortable.

"Right. V, this is Miss Dae. Kaeli Dae."

V outstretched his hand to Kaeli and she gave him a dainty shake.

"Ah, you must be the younger Dae. From what I've heard about Samantha you don't seem like the type. The media seems to think that Samantha and my friend Jumin would go well together."

V's words made Kaeli's face grow hot and she so desperately wanted to escape the now stuffy office.

"Aaah, well I am only younger by a few months. And Samantha doesn't really let the media play as her matchmaker." The two shared a light chuckle and Kaeli planned her escape. "I hate to make my introduction and then leave but I have another meeting I must get to. Jumin, it was a pleasure as always." Giving V one last nod Kaeli made her exit.

"Well she's a cute one, isn't she? Very tiny. I wouldn't take her for a woman of corporate business." Still in a lighthearted mood, V approached his old friend but when he was within Jumin's reach he found himself being lifted by the collar of his sweater.

"What are you doing here, V?! Why come now? After more than a month of total silence! Why?!"

Jumin's voice startled V. V placed his hands around Jumin's wrists and he loosened his grip.

"Jumin, I...All I can do is apologize. There was something I needed to take care of. And I know that I haven't been very forthcoming. Just please understand...eventually I will be able to tell you everything."

"Regardless of your secrets, V. Or your withholding of the truth. You didn't answer me. Why have you come back now? After all this time."

"I had heard about your father and his new relationship. I know that you often have a hard time when a new woman comes into his life. You worry about the company, you stress yourself out."

"I find that a rather poor excuse, V. But my father is the least of my worries. My troubles. I so desperately needed my friend. But no use holding on to the past. You are here now. Take a seat."

V made his way to the sofa in Jumin's office. Jumin taking out a bottle of wine and glasses out of the cabinet. He set them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Trying to compose his thoughts he set everything down without actually pouring them glasses to drink.

"I am not the same, V. You will always be able to recognize me. But if we didn't have the relationship we have, I am sure I would have seemed like a stranger upon your return today."

"Jumin, I don't think I have ever heard you speak so openly about your trauma's. Don't get me wrong. I am glad you are speaking so freely but...I am worried. What has happened?"

"I met a woman."

"Is that it?" V let out a small giggle at his old friend. But when his friend stood up and crossed in front of him, the cold air he felt made him realize this was serious. He was prepared to listen contently.

Jumin stopped at his desk and noticed something out of place. A small card. He picked it up and read over it thoughtfully. In a rapid action, he took his suit jacket off of the back of his chair and picked up his desk phone.

"Driver Kim, a car please." He hastily made his way to the door and V stood up from his seat.

"Jumin where are you going?"

"WE are going somewhere important. It's a long ride. So I'll tell you all about this woman and what you have been neglecting on the way there."

The space below had almost no overhead lights. A beautiful but very dimly lit chandelier hung from the high ceiling and most of the tables were lit by candlelight. The stage had a very dull spotlight but the heat coming from it was almost unbearable.

Kaeli was looking down on the room from the viewing box. A big executive office with blacked out windows where family members and top VIP's would come to gamble and watch performances. Spend time with ladies. Today the only ones in the office were her, Baba, and the heads of some allied families. She was on the phone with Zen. Just letting him know what had been going on that day. How V had shown up at C&R. When she would be coming home.

"Yeah, Sammy isn't out there right now. But as soon as she is they'll be eating her up. I don't like it. It's like watching Jessica Rabbit out there. She's so...I just want to run out there and throw a sweater on her! All men are wolves, Zen!"

He chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Jagiya, she's going through something. Let her express herself. It's not like she is back into old habits and it's not like she has to...well...you know. That's not a life she has to live anymore."

The two continued their conversation as Kaeli stood by the windows looking down. Kang was at the head of a card table. Playing a game with the boys, one of them overstepped and started a conversation they were going to regret.

"So Kang, your girls really grew up. I mean, they were already some nice tail when they got here. But now they are more than a way for a quick release huh?" Other men began to chime in.

"Right. Samantha is welcome to come home with me anytime."

"I wish I knew about her when she was just an employee if you know what I mean."

"ENOUGH!" Kang Dae was standing. Towering over the pigs sitting around his table. "You will be respectful of my daughters. And as far as Samantha goes. Look all you want. Just know. That girl has more power and influence than all of you combined. She is my successor and has been trained to do well. The way she presents herself here for your entertainment is irrelevant. Game is over. Get out."

The men around the table immediately got silent and didn't hesitate to exit the viewing box. The shouting from her father made Kaeli wince. Not because of him, but because she knew they were probably discussing Samantha. Ever since she left the hospital and started to go back to the cabarets, casinos and speak easy's, the clients and men grew more and more grotesque lusting after her. Zen questioned the commotion and just as she began to explain she stopped and instead began to rush off the phone.

"Aaaahh, babe, I have to go."

"What? What's wrong what's happening?"

"I made a mistake. A big mistake. I may have done the worst possible thing that could be done. I really have to go. Ooohh man. I did the one thing in the world that I absolutely should not have done."

"Wait, Jagi..." Kaeli hung up the phone and began to pace at the window. She knew there was nothing she could avoid at this point.

"Baba, you know how you love me with all your heart and I am your light and joy and happiness and I am just such a fantastic namesake and wonderful princess?"

Without responding do Kaeli, Kang walked over to the windows and looked down, letting out a soft sigh.

"Bring them up." Those were his last words and Kaeli, with shaky legs began to make her way to the door, to go downstairs. Her brain and her heart screaming at each other for deciding to "accidentally" leave behind one of the clubs business cards somewhere that day.

Thanks to her and what she thought was going to be some kind of great revelation to fix a romance between star-crossed lovers, Jumin Han and Jihyun Kim had just walked into an illegal underground club/casino. Looking more out of place than beef in a vegan burrito.

#writing #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme jumin #jumin han #zen #hyun ryu #jumin #mystic messenger jumin #oc #Samantha Dae #fanfic #fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme fanfiction #star crossed entertainers

[immortalpain]

EUDORA VARNEY

age: 26

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: pansexual

occupation: yoga instructor

species: untriggered half vamp

faceclaim: erin moriarty

a baby (tw; cults, just a whole... load of creepy shit, arranged marriages since birth, human blood bags, pls let me know if i need anything else? )

eudora was born into a cult. they idealised vampires, many being born as half vampires, like eudora and her siblings.

her parents were very into the whole cult thing, believing vampirism made them pure, and it was the way forward.

the cult believed they were to be married at the age of 21 to a partner that had been chosen for them, and then when they were 30, there were turned. they would still be fairly young, but not young enough to raise suspicion to outsiders.

eudora knew from a very young age who she was to be wedded to when she reached 21. eudora didn’t really think much of victor, they never really saw eye to eye. he liked following the rules, and she was far too curious about the outside world.

eudora knew the humans weren’t to be spoken too, a small group of them essentially being kept as human blood bags with the promise of one day being “chosen” for immortality. however, eudora found herself intrigued by them.

one boy in particular, joel, caught her attention, and the two became friends - having to keep their friendship a secret.

eudora got good at keeping secrets, following her parents weird rules - even if she didn’t agree with them, - all while harbouring a secret crush for her friend that she met up with when no one was looking.

however, victor knew her attention was divided, so one day, he followed her and found out. he ratted her out to her parents and they were furious. 

they were the leaders, and it was shameful that their daughter had been fraternizing with humans. so, they punished her, locking her in the basement of their family home, banished from interacting with anyone. 

it was then that temperance, one of her older sisters, decided she’d had enough and broke her out. 

eudora begged for them to find joel, but in the few days she was locked away, he had vanished - with no idea what had happened to him.

she was just fourteen when she became a runaway with her sister. 

eventually, they stumbled across a house just outside of a town called bellport, and in that, they formed a group with other runaways. 

to this day, eudora considers them her family.

it’s also where she met callum, eudora was almost instantly intrigued by the other, and eventually the two began dating.

eudora loves callum, she does, but even though they’ve been dating for years, the idea of marriage freaks her out - after what her parents had drilled into her when she was younger.

she works in the studio above sora’s gym as a yoga instructor.

very bubbly and friendly, but tends to shut herself off at times. freaks out in basements.

she’s also terrified of vampires, despite being half herself, because of her upbringing. she’s still yet to realise that they aren’t all like her family.

still terrified her family will come back for her, or victor will. 

goes by dora, these days, and if anyone asks her last name, she gives a random name like ‘jones’. she hasn’t legally changed it yet, but tries not to use it as much as she doesn’t want to be discovered by her former cult. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

friends!! i’d love for her to have people that she met outside her found fam

people from the cult (esp victor tbh, i’d say joel but he’s... probs dead)

clients!! she’s a yoga instructor so... go to her class?

vampires she’s terrified of? that are trying to prove otherwise? idk pals

#muse; eudora varney

[undertale-rho]

Underearth: Book 4 - Chapter 21

Frisk's eyes snapped open. Everywhere around him was black, save a white point of light every now and then. The lone Human shot around every-which-way, trying to find any sign of where he was.

"CALM DOWN." the Timepiece eventually said. "RELAX, AND USE GRAVITY MAGIC TO GO TOWARDS THIS POINT OF LIGHT."

Even though the Timepiece didn't make a gesture towards any particular point, Frisk knew exactly which one it talked about. Focusing gravity magic around himself, Frisk lurched as he felt himself falling towards the point of light. After about a minute, the point of light became more defined, its shape becoming clearer and clearer. On closer inspection, Frisk recognized it to be a structure of some kind, his own mind going to a mansion, the color of which was an alabaster white.

"SLOW DOWN." the Timepiece said.

Frisk eased on the gravity magic, slowing himself enough to land on the structure's front wall without injuring himself.

"NOW, OPEN THE SOUL JAR."

"Open it?" Frisk asked, looking wearily down at the red SOUL contained within.

"YES."

Letting out a slow sigh, Frisk carefully opened the top of the jar. As soon as it opened, the SOUL flew out and hovered a short distance in front of Frisk. After a few seconds, the SOUL glowed a brighter red as stuff formed around it. As Frisk watched the stuff form, he recognized what was forming to be a body, specifically the body of Calibri. Once its formation had finished, Calibri opened his eyes, staring right at Frisk.

"I saw everything." he said. "Including... Chara, with LOV."

Stunned at this seemingly sudden change of heart, Frisk turned to the offensive. "What makes you so sure that was Chara?" he asked, his voice carrying acid. "After all, Chara's been dead for six hundred years."

Calibri raised his arms a bit. "Alright, I deserved that. To answer your question, though, there's a painting of Asriel and Chara in the Oldtown Palace."

"The Oldtown Palace?" Frisk asked, not exactly expecting a straight answer.

"Yeah, a building situated where the Elysian Palace used to be, before Asgore caused that it should be levitated up to where it is now. The Oldtown Palace is now more of a memorial to the dead heirs than a place people live, built to resemble the Elysian Palace in most every way."

"So, that's it then. After you killed me a few times, then yourself, we're just best buds?"

Calibri looked down at Frisk. "I mean, isn't that kind of how it went with Undyne some time ago? No wait, that's right. You two hung out first. We'll jump to that, then. Let's see, with both Papyrus and Undyne, you mostly talked and learned some stuff regarding this world, so let's go with that. Ask some questions, and I'll do my best to answer them." Calibri sat down on the wall.

"Wh—What?"

"I'm not gonna try to kill you, guess we should start with that. Next up, I guess I should say that I'm sorry for not believing you when you said Chara had taken LOV and was planning to destroy Humanity with it. But then that begs the question, if she seeks to destroy Humanity, has she gotten enough power to destroy the Barrier? If so, why sit around and wait for you to arrive instead of beginning her quest to eradicate Humanity? If not, why sit around and wait for you to arrive instead of continuing to slaughter Monsters to grow in power."

"Would you slow down for a second?" Frisk said, trying to cut into Calibri's conversation with himself.

Calibri looked up at him. "Oh, sorry. Got carried away."

"You said you'd answer questions?"

"Yup."

Frisk took a deep breath. "What is LOV?"

Calibri's jaw dropped open. "You mean... Sans never told you?"

"He said something about LOVE, but since you pronounce the O like you do, I'm starting to get a feeling that... they're two different things."

"They are. LOVE is a metric used by the judiciaries of the Monster Kingdom when sentencing. In this case, both EXP; EXecution Points, and LOVE; Levels Of ViolencE, go hand-in-hand in determining which criminal punishment should be placed on the guilty party.

"LOV, however, is something completely different. While watching Sans preform his judicial duties to the Throne, I found that every now and then, a murderous Monster would come in with... something attached to their SOUL. At the time, I signaled to Sans to let me take the first few with me to study. These things were incredibly weak, but I found that it seemed to... feed on the SOUL's SOUL TRAITs, two seeming to be its preferred choice, KINDNESS and INTEGRITY. It didn't consume DETERMINATION, though, instead creating it as a waste product. On later subjects, I found that a magic type that Sans was good at, karma magic, eradicated the LOV, along with the parts of the SOUL it was attached to. Seeing as LOV only grows on select individuals, I hypothesize that it must come from somewhere, like a disease, but I've yet to even prove if that's the case. The only thing I ever managed to confirm is that those with LOV wanted it to grow inside them."

"Why is it called LOV?" Frisk asked, hoping to divert from that train of thought.

Calibri chuckled to himself a bit. "Those brought in who had LOV growing on them were all serial killers. As such, they were given a higher LOVE. I thought it appropriate to base the name of this... stuff off the acronym. Ironic, too, which made it all the better."

"Yeah. So, how does the, LOVE metric work?" Frisk asked.

Calibri let out a small, short laugh. "I'm, uh, not exactly the legal expert here. I just know that there's a logic to it, I don't actually know the logic. Maybe, when you bring everybody back, you could ask Sans about it. He's more the legal expert."

It was Frisk's turn to laugh this time. "Really? That's a laugh."

"Oh yeah. Only he could figure out all the loopholes to operating six different jobs at the same time despite only being able to be in one place at a time." Calibri said.

They both laughed at the light-heartedness of the conversation. Finally, Frisk sat down on the wall as well.

"So Frisk," Calibri said. "if you don't mind me asking, what made you start hunting Monsters and growing LOV in the first place?"

Frisk's face turned as white as the mansion. "I... I..."

"If you don't want to be super precise, just give me the vaguest of answers. It may, at the very least, give me more information on LOV's origins than I have now."

Frisk thought for a bit. "Something... horrible happened to a friend of mine. I then died and I wanted the power to make it never happen again. LOV promised me that."

"I see... That doesn't really shed much light... tell me, what happened to your friend?"

Frisk's eyes went dark as his hand covered his mouth, the screams of anguish echoing inside his head.

"Frisk?" Calibri asked, leaning a little bit closer.

"I don't want to talk about it..."

Calibri tilted his head, his own mind deep in thought. After a few seconds, his eyes shifted back to Frisk. "What city did this happen in?"

Frisk looked back at Calibri. "A—Athens. Why?"

Calibri leaned away. "Ah..." he said informatively. He then took a deep breath before speaking again. "Yeah, that'd do it..."

"You know of Athens?"

"Yeah. Used to stop by more often, but I personally prefer Thebes over both Athens and Sparta. Much smaller and quieter."

"I've, never really been to either. At least recently."

"Back to what happened," Calibri said. "did it take place near that skyscraper that just screams 'I'm a criminal mastermind'?"

Frisk gave him a weird look. "There's no building I'd describe like that, no."

"Sure there is. It's the tallest building in the city, you can see it from almost anywhere."

Frisk thought about that for a second. "Oh!" he said after a bit, his face lighting up in revelation. "That building exploded about half a month ago. Collapsed to the ground after a series of explosions. Nobody took responsibility for it, but the news says it was a terrorist bombing. A bunch of other people think the Mad Man did it, though."

"The Mad Man?" Calibri asked.

"Some deranged lunatic. Burned down all the homeless shelters in the city a while ago for some reason."

"Strange..." Calibri's eyes began to drift as he slowly engulfed himself in waves of thought.

"Why were you asking about that building?" Frisk asked.

Calibri's eyes refocused on Frisk after a second. "No reason." he said quickly.

"I see..." Frisk said slowly, somewhat suspicious of his answer. After a bit, Frisk set his mind to a new question. "How do you know of the surface?"

"I thought it was obvious, I've been there." Calibri said with a matter-of-fact tone. "My SOUL has the strengths of a Human's, so it doesn't get stopped by the Barrier, unlike any Cursed SOUL. The surface is also the place I got that TAC-50 I shot you with a few times?"

"Wait, a few times? Is that what happened in the Hotlands?"

"As you approached the lab the first time? Yeah. Gonna be honest, though, I have no idea how you survived that shot. I blasted your arm off at the shoulder, yet you were still moving your head and other arm around even though the air pressure from the bullet should have sucked your eyes out and scrambled your brain."

Frisk shuttered as he imagined that happening.

"Alright," Calibri said, breaking the silence that had formed. "now for the million-dollar question. Back before we fought, you asked for my help to defeat Chara. I'm willing to help now. What's your attack-plan?"

Frisk looked at Calibri. "Uh..." he said. "I, uh... haven't really thought up one."

Calibri let out a heavy sigh. "Alright," he said. "let's think of something. What do we, or more accurately, you, know?"

"Um... She has LOV."

"Alright, that part's obvious. What else?"

Frisk thought harder, though barely anything was surfacing. "Uh..." he said, trying to fill the silence. "She's powerful."

"That seems to come with LOV."

"I don't know what else."

Calibri let out an even heavier sigh. "Oh boy, this is gonna be great. Alright, let's try working with that. LOV is extremely weak to karma magic. I'm... adept at it, so that's gonna have to do."

"Sounds great. What else do we need to do?"

Calibri stood up. "Well first and foremost, we need to find them. Can't exactly kill without facing what you're gonna kill in the first place."

"I don't want to kill them." Frisk said.

Calibri looked back. "Excuse me?"

"I said I don't want to kill Chara."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"I want to save her from LOV's control."

Calibri let out a scoffing laugh. "Oh, knight in shining armor," he said. "I don't think that's even possible."

"It is!" Frisk said, getting on his feet.

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Calibri asked.

"Because I was under LOV's influence before Chara tore it from me."

Calibri breathed in to argue more, but remained silent, bringing his hand to his lower lip. "Interesting..." he said. He then looked back up at Frisk. "Any idea how to do this?"

It was then Frisk's turn to retreat deep into thought. "... no, not really..." he said after a bit of silence.

Calibri sighed again. "Well, tell you what. We'll think about how to do what you're wanting to do while we find them."

"Alright." Frisk said. "Know where we should start looking?"

"Not a clue..."

"SEARCH THIS BUILDING." the Timepiece said.

"Why not start here? Go from the bottom floor all the way to the roof?" Frisk then asked.

Calibri looked back at Frisk. "Good a place to start as any."

Calibri walked down the wall to the front door, carefully flipping over so his feet connected with the "bottom" of the building.

"What the hell is with the gravity of this place, anyway?" Calibri mumbled to himself as he stepped inside.

Frisk, not wanting to be left behind, quickly followed him inside.

Sozo : Understanding

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#undertale #undertale au #undertale rho #UTRStory #underearth #sozo

[thestoryweneededtowrite]

Titanic AU - Epilogue

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32

Davey was only half paying attention to the news. It was on in the background whilst he listened to his daughter catch him up on how his grandkids were doing now they’d scattered to the wind across the country. Then he heard the word Titanic, said with enough grandeur that he knew it was the ship. Looking up instinctively, he saw a drawing he thought was lost forever to the ocean being held up to a camera. Suddenly Katie’s words became distant ringing and the spiel of the reporter talking about recovering artifacts from the Titanic was roaring in his ears.

“Jack,” was all he managed to say, the name wavering and stunted.

“Yeah?” Jack called back, sensing the shock in Davey’s voice and immediately putting down the wooden spoon he’d been stirring their dinner with and poked his head round the doorway into the living room. When he saw what Davey was looking at on the television his legs found themselves moving of their own accord and he walked over to the sofa. “Oh my god,” he breathed in awe, sinking down onto the couch beside Davey.

“I never thought…” Davey trailed off, because of course he’d never thought he’d see the drawing again. He’d thought about it so often, regretting not saving it and imagining it in the dark as it slowly turned to mush and then to nothing, but apparently he’d be wrong about its fate.

“What is it?” Katie asked, concerned. She was looking at the screen and trying to see what they saw, but all she could make out was some fluff piece about a rather suggestive sketch of a young man, clearly drawn by a lover, found in a ship wreck. What did that have to do with her dads?

She knew they weren’t really her dads, of course, not in the way that mattered to most people. The story of how she’d ended up with them, one she loved to hear and tell in equal measure, involved Jack and Davey falling in love at sea and, after landing in New York, travelling to New Mexico to find a smalltime town where they could live in relative peace, considering two men sharing a house was going to get them strange looks and a lot of talk anywhere. They were taking a risk wherever they settled but they’d been lucky. Not that there weren’t whispers, but they were both upstanding members of the town community. Davey was social and thoughtful and the kids all raved about him as their teacher until the parents couldn’t help but love them too. Jack was instantly likable, his people skills and the fact he served them their alcohol wooing people over even when his cocky nature might have otherwise turned them away. They were happy, and everyone in the town could see that they weren’t harming anyone, so they were accepted. They didn’t hold hands and kiss outside of their little house, but they felt safe there. One day a baby had ended up on their steps. No one knew where it had come from, but it was clear someone couldn’t keep it and had thought them fit to raise it. So they had, and that was when Katie became part of their family. It had been her bedtime story almost every night as a child, the one she begged them to tell her over and over. These were her dads, no matter what anyone else wanted to say on the matter.

She thought she’d known everything about them, but the silence her question had created instantly had her changing her mind. They’d been hiding something, all this time. Just as she was about to ask again, Jack shrugged and finally gave her a clue. “That’s your father,” he said, quiet and resigned.

Katie immediately shielded her eyes and turned away from the television. She didn’t need to see what were essentially borderline pornographic images of her father, drawn by her other father. “Dad!” she whined, sounding far more immature than she should.

“I was young and impressionable and your dad was a bad influence?” Davey tried, unable to keep himself from a smile at his weak excuse. “Hardly,” Jack snorted. “You practically begged me to draw that.” He remembered it well, although his memories were more hung up on having Davey naked in his arms for the first time as supposed to drawing a new sketch, but it was all a part of the same experience. “Jack!” Davey complained, hitting him gently on the arm.

“Wait,” Katie asked, confused. “You drew it, Dad? But…” She trailed off but they all knew what she meant. But Jack’s hands were debilitated. He couldn’t hold a pen to write, much less draw. And he’s been that way ever since she’d been alive, and probably long before that. There were rings of discoloured skin around both of his wrists that she knew had to be something to do with it, but they’d never been explained to her and her father had almost always keep them hidden under sleeves. They looked like handcuffs marks, she knew that. But she also knew better than to bring them up in conversation.

Davey reached out sadly for Jack’s hand. He knew his wrists were a sensitive issue. Sometimes, when he was in too much pain to even hold Davey’s hand, he’d still shed tears over them.

“You father was an amazing artist,” Davey explained.

Because Jack had been. He was tearing up now, looking at the last thing he’d ever managed to draw. He tried time and time again once they’d settled in Santa Fe, but it just brought agony to his wrists to hold a pencil at that angle for that long. Davey would have to pry the pencil from his hands to get him to stop hurting himself and he’d spend the evening sobbing. Art had been his way of understanding the world and now it was gone.

“Do you think they’d give it back?” Davey wondered wistfully out loud, gesturing towards the television.

It was the first and last time Jack had ever drawn him. After Davey had watched Jack torture himself with attempts to draw, he’d saved up for a camera and that had helped a little. It wasn’t the same but Jack had a new way of capturing images. They were poor quality and they couldn’t always afford film, but it was better than nothing. Every time they’d sent away a roll to be developed, they worried. Jack was particularly fond of taking photos of Davey in various stages of undress and Davey wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea, he was just concerned someone was going to realise they were gay and that it wasn’t going to go well. If they put another set on handcuffs on Jack, he’d never forgive himself.

There was something about that one and only drawing, though. Something a photograph wouldn’t have been able to capture. The way it echoed with the last remnants of who he used to be, whilst still clearly being the boldest thing he’d done in his life – at least at the time. He recognised the look in his eyes in the sketch. He saw it every morning when he opened his eyes and found the man he’d call his husband in spite of what any law tried to say looking back at him. It was love. But no new photograph could encapsulate that feeling in quite the same way. That was intoxicating, forbidden love that burned quick and bright like a match, he could see it in the way his hands were curled in the sheets like he wanted to get them back on skin and the way his eyes were hooded with a kind of innocent lust that still made him blush. Not that he loved Jack any less now, but it was definitely different. They were still romantic, but things were more like a bonfire than a spark. Stronger. Hazy and comforting, like home and safe and forever – but not without its bursts and crackles. Davey wouldn’t give up what he had now for anything, but he wanted that glimpse into the past back, not least because it was a private moment that only Jack should be allowed into and now the only existing remnant of the night he had slept with a man – with anyone – for the first time was on national television for everyone to see.

Jack cocked his head, looking at the drawing on the screen. It managed to feel like a distant echo and a fresh memory at the same time and he couldn’t help but agree that he wanted it back. The last thing he had ever drawn. Still, there was almost no chance.

“Probably not,” he sighed, putting his hand on Davey’s knee and squeezing. “There’s no way to prove it was me who drew it.” Even if the diving crew managed to find out whose cabin the sketch had been found in, David Jacobs was legally dead. There was always Jack’s signature in the corner, but it had changed so much over the years that he barely recognised the untidy old scrawl himself. He did wonder what people would say if and when they realised that there was a male name on the bottom of a sketch of a clearly naked, recently defiled man. There was definite headline potential there.

“No… I suppose not,” Davey agreed, a tone of mourning to his voice.

Katie had been watching the exchange with an endless fascination. It brought up so many questions and, whilst some she never wanted answers to, a lot of them were trying to coerce her tongue into interrupting what was clearly an important moment for her dads. When Jack looked up and met her eyes, he winced. They’d been hiding a lot from her and this finally seemed like the moment to share it all, before they ran out of time.

“Katie, come here. Sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the chair opposite the sofa. This was going to be a long story, and a sad one. It seemed sufficiently serious to necessitate the Proper Conversations of her teenage years about boyfriends and curfews and being safe.

Rolling her eyes, Katie sat down. “I’m not a child anymore, Dad.”

“No, you’re right. You’re not. But we have a story that you should hear. We never quite told you the truth about how we met but…” Jack looked to Davey to get a nod and, taking his hand, he continued. “That ship we met on? It was the Titanic. And we made it out alive. It’s time we told you everything, right from the beginning.”

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #javid #Jack Kelly #davey jacobs #Jack/David #Titanic AU #the end