#they remodeled the dorm the year after we moved out so .... they knew

[hoperays-song]

If Johnny and Ryan had met when they were kids - maybe Ryan's family living in/close to the town Johny lives in, before moving to the big city - Or an AU where Ryan is a part of Sing 1, how would you imagine that playing out? Any headcanons?

Oooooo, great question! I'm gonna split these two up between your two asks since they're about the same two topics, so that I can go more in depth on each one. This is going into if they met when they were kids, I hope you enjoy!

---------------------------------------

In this au, Ryan and his family would have moved to Calatonia right after his youngest sister was born since she was sick to be near a better hospital. Ryan was 14 and while he was offered to stay in Klaus’s troupe and live at the dorms, he ultimately decided that his moms and sisters needed him there.

Since they probably moved in the middle of the year as well as Ryan spending his free time helping his moms with Amy so they could be at the hospital, Ryan was a bit of a social outcast. 

Which only really helped him meet Johnny faster, as they were paired together for class projects since well, no one else would pair with them. Because of that, the two started hanging out and actually becoming friends, eventually even spending time together outside school.

Ryan definitely caught on to the gang pretty fast (literally one trip to the Taylor’s apartment and he knew) and confronted Johnny about it, sparking their first fight. But once he realized why they were stealing and that Johnny didn’t actually want to be involved, they patched things up decently quickly.

After that, they were pretty much inseparable, even as Ryan got more popular in school over the next few years. Ryan was the only one Johnny told about his love of singing and Johnny was the only one Ryan felt confident in telling about his regrets of leaving dance, even if it was what was good for his family at the time.

They continue to be each other’s entire support system up until Sing 1, with their only really arguments about Johnny’s increasing involvement in the gang. Ryan calls Johnny the moment he hears about the singing competition to encourage him to try out and even goes with him to the auditions. When the gang gets arrested, Ryan shows up at the garage with scallion pancakes and custard bao buns, for once doesn’t argue with him about the gang, and just helps him pack a bag so he can come stay with his family.

Ryan also would tag along to the theatre last minute remodel and help, along with bringing food for the performers (his mom’s idea). He also helped Eddie work backstage during the show and comforted Johnny when he was clearly upset (we could also have a shielding scene from Ash’s spikes here). Ryan’s visibly happy when he notices Johnny reuniting with his dad and he’s also in the ending photo at the new theatre.

I think that sometime within the year in between the two movies, Ryan would have gone back to Redshore on his own and eventually gotten his role back in Klaus’s troupe in time for Sing 2. He does keep his troupe’s involvement with the show a secret until Johnny shows up to class however, surprising him with an excited hug.

During the course of Sing 2, we would actually see Ryan fighting Klaus’s treatment of Johnny on screen (not that he didn’t out of this au, we just didn’t see it). This would lead to a series of escalating arguments between the two during classes and when Johnny had his panic attack, Ryan actually quit and went to comfort him instead of doing what Klaus wanted him to. They work with Nooshy together and also do the final performance together as both of them against Klaus this time. We also see Marcus greeting him with a clap on the shoulder and him being treated as a member of the family as well.

I wouldn’t really do anything except hinting at a Rynny plot line til the second movie mainly so we could see character growth and relationships a bit easier in Sing 1. However, in Sing 2 we can easily add in the two spending time together along with more flirty interactions. During the rest of the performances, Ryan and Johnny can be seen holding hands off stage, and seem flustered when Nooshy apparently points it out but don’t stop. Ryan is also asleep with his head on Johnny’s shoulder on the bus back to Calatonia, and we see Johnny smiling at him softly.

---------------------------------------

TL,DR: Ryan and Johnny were each other’s support systems and Ryan essentially served as Johnny’s version of Eddie in Sing 1. In Sing 2, we get to see a lot more development in their relationship and a potential ending alluding to them being a couple.

I’m sorry if this got off track or is hard to follow, I’ll write it out more soon. I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for the ask! - <3 Gooseless

#sing #sing 2 #sing au #sing ryan #sing johnny #sing ocs #this is just a rynny centered au #but i still like it #childhood friends to lovers #ryan also definitely knew they didn't know calloway in this and just didn't snitch #he also didn't snitch about the gang but wasn't happy about it #mainly because johnny was actually involved #i'm sorry you cannot tell me any of the sing 1 characters were popular in high school #it's high school everyone's mean there #ligers actually have a lot of health problems naturally so that's why i write ryan's sister being sick when she was little

[mitchmarner]

i’m thinking back to the time where my university refused to give my roommate and me (and many others) a bedroom door. only one bedroom per dorm room got to have one because they just didn’t feel like putting them in. plus they simply painted over the mold we reported and also had to move the people from the room next door into a hotel bc they had asbestos. we lived behind a fire station that woke us up at all hours. it was still not the cheapest dorm on campus. good times.

#colleges are really like ‘pay your entire soul and throw in a kidney for atrocious living conditions’ #‘yes you can pay less to live in a nicer place off campus but sorry we obligate you to live on campus for 3 years’ #so corrupt #i esp loved when all the maintenance people would enter and saw me changing!!! #bc our bedroom was supposed to be the living room and was next to the front door #but my school was like :D ‘sorry to hear that! we have all those doors available in storage but wont do it’ #also it wasnt that our room didnt HAVE asbestos #its that the school didnt even check #couldve been living in an asbestos dorm all year and we wouldnt have known #they remodeled the dorm the year after we moved out so .... they knew #its all a scam #its funny to laugh at now but wtf #* #anyway if ur considering any dc universities uhhhh hmu so i can tell you not to attend mine :)

[chudleycanonficfest]

Fluffy Town

Day 27, Post #1 by @adenei

Title: Fluffy Town

Author: adenei

Pairing: Dean & Seamus BrOTP (and Gryffindor pals)

Prompt: A Friendship Like No Other

Rating: K

TW: None :)

A/N: Inspired by Troy and Abed’s BrOTP on the TV show, Community, where the boys are bored and decide to make a blanket fort during their sleepover!

**************

Now that the Yule Ball was over and Christmas had come and passed, all the hype and excitement had died down. The Hogwarts students were becoming bored and restless for the remainder of the holidays since there were only so many places to roam around the castle. And because they were in the full throes of winter, this made for an even greater limitation on activities to partake in, and most students weren’t interested in studying over break.

So, Dean and Seamus found themselves sprawled out on a couple of armchairs in the Gryffindor common room just after lunch, staring at the gold tiles on the ceiling. Their limbs hung off the cushioned furniture in unnatural forms, dangling in the air as small huffs and sighs became louder with every exhale.

“Will you two stop it with your moaning?” admonished Parvati from across the room.

“We’re just bored,” Seamus replied. “You don’t happen to have any ideas to keep us occupied this afternoon, do you?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, nonverbally suggesting a proposition that made both girls scoff in disgust.

“Gross, Shay,” Lavender rolled her eyes at his remark.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Seamus smirked.

“Yes, when you were dressed in your finest robes and charming, acting like a true gentleman. Now, you’re just a frog again,” Lavender gave it right back to him.

“A frog?” Seamus wrinkled his nose, not fully understanding Lav’s reference, looking to Dean for clarification.

“It’s a muggle fairy tale that involves a princess and a frog and having to—”

“Yeah, alright, I’m bored again. What are we going to do?” 

Dean sat up in the chair and stared into the crackling flames of the fire, an idea forming in his mind.

“Oh, what if we go upstairs, change into our pajamas and build a blanket fort!”

Seamus moved to sit up a little too fast at Dean’s suggestion and landed on the floor. Despite falling, a wide smile erupted onto his face at the idea. 

“That’s brilliant, mate! How didn’t we think of that sooner?”

The boys scrambled to their feet to escape up the boy’s staircase when a derisive laugh stopped them.

“A blanket fort? What are you, seven?” Lavender insulted while Parvati giggled at her jab.

Dean and Seamus paid no mind to the negative comment, and instead, Dean invited them to join.

“You can come up in an hour or so and hang out if you want! You’ve gotta be dressed in your jammies, though, or we won’t permit entry.”

“I think we’re good. We’ll find something more suitable for teenagers to do,” Parvati dismissed the invitation.

“Well, have fun reading your old magazines and doing your nails, then,” Seamus shrugged as they disappeared up to the fourth-year’s dorm.

A few hours later, the boys were sitting inside an oasis surrounded by cotton and polyester blends. Their original attempt only spanned the area between their beds, but Seamus thought to ask the house-elves in the kitchens if they could borrow some extra blankets for their endeavours. The elves were more than happy to oblige, and by the time Dean and Seamus returned to their dorm, there were two large stacks of linens for them to hang. 

The original area then expanded to cover the entirety of the boy’s dorm. In order to conserve the number of blankets they had, Dean had the brilliant idea to unhook the curtains on the four-poster beds and utilize those first. An array of golds, crimsons, beiges and greys engulfed the open space as the colors reflected in the glow of the bell-jar lights the boys were using for more brightness.

With deep sighs of satisfaction, the pair sat back against their beds, admiring their hard work. The only downside to the fort was that the ceilings were a little too low. If they sat fully erect, their heads were only two inches shy of the blankets over them.

Dean turned to Seamus, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Seamus hung his head and nodded. “We’re too old for this, aren’t we?”

“Yeah…” Dean agreed.

But then a thought crossed his mind, and an imperceptible smile donned his face. “What if we used our brooms to help extend the ceiling, so it doesn’t drop so low where there isn’t a bedpost to keep it up? That would vault the ceiling a couple feet!”

“That’ll make it work for a teen—NO! A man!” Seamus added.

The boys looked at each other and broke out into a song to pump them up for the remodel.

“Ba-boo ga-boo, boo-chee. Ba-boo ja-boo, boo-boo tee!”

Seamus broke out into more beatboxing as Dean took over with a melody that featured a robotic voice.

Their efforts were successful, and the blanket fort became more spacious as a result. Now, they could enjoy the space until they had to go down for dinner. The two were in the middle of playing the muggle card game, War, when they heard the door open.

“Holy hippogriffs, what is this?!” Neville said upon returning to the dormitory.

Dean and Seamus both looked at each other. It was clear that both boys hadn’t thought about what would happen when their mates returned. Using two separate openings in the fort, they popped their heads through to acknowledge the newcomer.

“We made a blanket fort!” Dean explained as the shock on Neville’s face transitioned to glee.

“This is brilliant! Can I join?”

Dean and Seamus shared a look. In their excitement and haste, they’d forgotten about their three roommates. They couldn’t exactly tell Neville ‘no’ since he lived there too. Plus, it might be fun to have all the boys participate. More people would mean more options for card games. Seamus nodded, and Dean looked back to Neville.

“You may enter as long as you follow the rules: No magic, no farting, and no pillow fighting.”

“And only if you can get some hot chocolate from the kitchen, first!” Seamus requested, awarding him a side-eye from Dean.

“Y-yeah, sure! I’ll be back in a jiff!”

When Neville left, he must have spread the word to the other Gryffindors about the fort. Harry and Ron returned with Neville to join in on the fun, and Ron’s older brothers followed to scope it out. Dean and Seamus were fine with Harry and Ron inviting Hermione into the fort, and by that time, Lavender and Parvati’s interest got the better of them, and they joined in too. 

When it was time for dinner, it was evident that the blanket fort idea spread to the rest of Gryffindor, and they were popping their heads into the other dorm rooms to see what their peers had come up with. Professor McGonagall was beside herself when all of Gryffindor showed up to the Great Hall in their nightclothes, but the twinkle in Professor Dumbledore’s eye quelled her reprimanding. 

Chatter gradually spread to students in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and it was confirmed by Ernie and Padma the next morning that their houses had joined in on the fun. The inter-house blanket forts were enough to cause the holiday lull to subside, and the houses came together to offer different events and activities to join over the next two days.

On the third day, however, the news had spread that Slytherin began making their own blanket forts, and Dean and Seamus had to make a difficult decision.

“Surely, we can co-exist?” Dean asked with hope threaded in his voice.

Seamus shook his head and looked to the rest of his dorm-mates. “We know the ways of the world. The blanket forts have officially mainstreamed. What’s next? Will the professors  join, as well?”

Loud grumbles were heard among their peers at the horrifying thought.

“No, we can’t allow this to spread any further. We’ve had our fun, and the new term begins in two days. It is time.”

Dean nodded in solidarity. No one wanted this to be the end, but they all knew a good thing can’t last forever.

“Alright, team. You know what to do. Spread the word, but watch yourselves and be safe. We don’t need another sock war erupting for this act of sacrifice.”

Harry, Neville, Ron, Hermione, Parvati and Lavender nodded at Dean’s words and dispersed throughout the castle to notify the others. Meanwhile, Dean and Seamus crawled to opposite corners of the fourth-year fort and reached up to latch onto the emergency release socks. On the count of three, both boys pulled, and the blankets came tumbling down around them.

The best friends lay there in the pile of sheets, mourning the loss of what will be remembered as the greatest Christmas hols that Hogwarts has ever seen. Ignoring the mess that would need to be taken care of eventually, they enjoyed each other’s company as the soft swish of blankets crumpling to the ground could be heard throughout the castle. 

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #submission

[botsdontsleep]

Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten...

Re: photo- Reunited and it feels so good! The Twins are back together and everything feels right in the universe!

Kameo was like a completely upgraded person! He spoke better, he acted like such a proper gentleman. Alamea was so excited to talk and hang out with him again and catch up! Kameo was also happy for his sister and loved hearing about her experiences at university.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keaka couldn't be more excited to see her boyfriend again. She wanted to go with them when they went to pick Kameo up from the airport but she also understood how important it was that he spend time with his family and she had class even though the urge to skip was very strong. As soon as class ended she sped off on her bike to the Mantus.  

Keaka walked up to him slow, almost extremely shy. They’ve spoke on the phone numerous times but now that he was here in person she felt nervous. Kameo couldn’t contain his smile as he greeted her wide grinned. To everyone's surprise, Kameo embraced Keaka lightly as ever then stood back from her and looked at her intently.There was a brief intense moment of fear from the onlooking family that Kameo, because he had changed was going to break up with Keaka to try to start anew. And then what he did next shocked everyone...

Re: photo- Keaka welcomed him home, she found herself feeling nervous and shy

Re: photo-  Kameo: “Keaka, my love..”

Re: photo- Kameo: “i didn’t want to chicken out, or wait any longer. I’ve thought about this the day before I left, that day at the fair..I love you and we can definitely wait until after you graduate high school for the wedding but I want to be yours. I love you so much! Keaka, Will You Marry Me?”

Keaka: **high shrill squeak** “ YES! YES! I DO! YES! YES!!!”

Emerie:**off camera** “I think she said yes..”

Although unexpected, everyone cheered and it was a great welcome back!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed and Alamea and Ekram headed back to school. They decided it was best to continue to live in their separate dorms but keep their Foodie Dates and on special occasions and once a month they always had a romantic date

Re: photo- Addicted~ Doja Cat, “ I am addicted, a little/Under the influence, a little/And it makes me want to dance, a little”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long, it seemed, before Alamea was calling the family and inviting them to her University Graduation. Alamea had been doing so well and advancing so fast she was ahead in all of the medical programs and she was declining and accepting internships left and right. It also was revealed that Alamea would be her years Valedictorian and she was graduating with the highest medical honors! Liana being a proud parent was an understatement.

Re: photo- My mom kinda went insane with the graduation invitations. 

Re: photo- Graduation was a long 3 hour commencement. But it was worth it. Alamea had done it. She was a college Graduate from Medical School.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a surprise graduation gift to Alamea, Ekram asked Alamea if she wanted to move in together. Alamea was so shocked and also so relieved! She knew that she was starting her new residency at the Smithers-Montgomery Hospital within the next few months and the thought that she’d be commuting from her childhood home was making her feel less than successful.

Now Alamea was more than excited to start this new journey of her life! She couldn't wait to tell her brother especially now that she was done with school she could help with wedding plans as well.

Re: photo- Nothing feels like home until I drive over this bridge. I’m home. I hope i always stay on this side of the island. 

Alamea and Ekram drove through the night after spending days packing both of their dorms and buying new furnishings for their new place. They decided to buy a new house and remodel it themselves which left them staying at Alameas parents for awhile until the remodels could be finished.  

Re: photo- Alamea excitedly getting back home, opens the door. “I’m baccckkk”

Now that Kameo and Alamea (along with Ekram) were back at home the days were busy with wedding plans and house planning. Alamea and Ekram spent most of their days at their house refurnishing and working with the designers to get it perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keaka and Kameo were spending every day together. Even though she was still in high school she was busy planning the wedding with Kameos mom when she came over on weekends and when she was home she was busy with homework,which meant that finding time alone with just each other felt like it was sacred, and the fiancees enjoyed their alone time..which ultimately led to a little surprise that Keaka and Kameo were keeping secret for now...

Re: Kameo and Keaka. “We engaged and bound fo life. My forever lady” 

They waited until Keaka had officially graduated high school before going through with wedding payments and final decisions but as Keaka tried on wedding dresses with her entourage she found herself adjusting dress sizes to larger every month...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wedding Day for Kameo and Keaka!

Cats out of the bag!  Keaka spent a long time hiding it. Even got through her high school graduation and prom where she mostly drank water..the day has finally arrived for her to marry her best friend since they were literal children. She was a beautiful blushing bride and was Pregnant!

Apparently, a few months before her graduation Keaka took a pregnancy test that came up positive and needed to hide it through her last months of high school.

Re: photo- The wedding was fantastic! Small and private and on the beach of their beloved homeland, Hawaii

Officiant: “Dear Beloved Family and Treasured Friends, I present to you Mr. Kameo and Mrs. Keaka Mantu. Husband and Wif--Expectant Husband and Wife. You may now kiss your bride! “

#sims3 #sis3simblr #sims3 simblr #botsdontsleep #mantu family #alamea mantu #kameo mantu

[donttouchmyasymptote]

Old Enough To Read Again || Darabella

Happy Holidays, @eccentricextrovert ! I know you love Darabella (as well The Adventure Zone, which doesn’t feature at all in this fic, but I also love TAZ so let’s talk about that too sometime), so I wrote you some for the @eah-exchange <3

It took a good month for Daring to realise that dating- no, courting, Rosabella was a bit more than extravagant gifts.

To be fair, courting any princess at Ever After High was more than extravagance. For some, being born with a silver spoon in their mouths meant that the taste dulled their senses until they could accept no less than platinum. For others, raised by wet nurses and with dead mothers and distant fathers and the lived experience that a jewelled crown came with a political weight, every bit of gold seemed that of a fool’s. For many, they knew that if someone had to put a monetary value on marriage, and that they were priceless and deserving of things better than riches, like loyalty or trustworthiness, or like, really good biceps.

(Rosabella was pretty fond of his really good biceps, if linking arms on the way to classes or dates was any sign, so Daring knew he wasn’t doing too shabbily.)

And to be fair, Rosabella kept all of the gifts. She had a few expensive rocks tucked up on one of her bookshelves, and all the flowers placed in a vase until they expired their time. She shared chocolates with Daring, but not without small tangents on rising sea levels, on how dwarf mines were an unsustainable power resource, on how magical energy was not being harnessed in renewable ways and that the waste was spreading to other magical regions, most notably Wonderland, and because of all that, the fairytale universe was getting hotter and that wasn’t just because natural selection meant that only those regarded as most beautiful in their lands got shots at marriage, and that meant that the cacao plants were going to die out and with that so many sweets-filled destinies and--

Unfortunately, he only fixated on the most minor of parts. “No fear, Rosabella! We shall sort out this waste issue. Dragons fly vast distances, surely they can take any trash off to some far, far, far off land. I’m thinking America.”

To which, she had only lightly scolded and told him not to dump their own issues on other, unsuspecting people. “Think of the Ozians! They’re unstable as it is!”

The next time Daring bought her chocolate, he made a deal about it being Fair Fairy Trade, with practises, through what research he could do, that were environmental friendly and didn’t involve underpaid fae labour. When Rosabella kissed his cheek and called him thoughtful, he felt his heart warm up inside.

~*~

“Am I doing well?” he asked, when Rosabella came up to him after classes, handed him a coffee, and looped her free arm around his.

“What do you mean?”

He blanked. “Uhm.” Daring Charming did not lose grace in social situations. “I’m totally dashing and cool, right?”

“I like you, yes,” she said, and leaned up to gently kiss him on the nose. “You are the next Beast. I’d be a little miffed if I didn’t.”

Daring wasn’t confident with that response. Author Grimm-it, he was quite fond of Rosabella. He was determined to impress her, to stand out among Ever After High’s avalanche of handsome princes, but it seemed naught when all he had to offer was pretty when she was that too, and on top of it, clever and dedicated and knowledgeable…

“The next Beast,” the words ran in his mouth strangely. It had been a while since he realised that he would soon follow Rosabella in her destiny, and abandon what he thought was his future life for the past decade. With Rosabella, things felt right. “Rosabella, I’m sorry if I don’t quite seem as princely as I do normally. My real role is just a completely, fair-y, fair-y different role from the one I thought I had.”

“I think you’re doing royally well,” she squeezed his hand. “There’s a lot to being the next Beast. For starters, you’re no longer just a trophy husband.”

He looked down at his coffee. Trophy husband. Daring knew of princes who resented that term. He never did, but he would always pass by conversations in common rooms -- ‘no matter how the world sells the narrative, we are naught but prizes for princesses’, ‘it doesn’t matter how many witches or woods they endure, we deserve autonomy too’. Ill-complaints, he had thought. The World of Ever After was still tilted in princes’ favours. His roommate, Hopper, had once tried to offer his input to these common room rifes, but was shot back with ‘isn’t your princess meant to kill you in your original? No amount of revisionism will save you, amphibian boy’.

How did Rosabella know this term? She liked activism circles, didn’t she? How much she did absorb from these princes?

Just-- what a fascinating princess. So steadfast, always holding her ground. Daring felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sometimes, he wanted to just sit back and listen to her talk for hours. Whatever topic, whatever rant, that voice, that mind, her ideas.

“For an eldest son, you never had to do much outside of hero stuff, did you?”

Rosabella was right. Daring never really thought much about ruling. Destiny for him used to be so simple - be handsome, and be certain about being handsome. Kiss a princess, wave a weapon around or so.

He thought about Apple and the role of Snow White. He thought about how, once, he had to ‘rescue’ her. How simple it was - a quick kiss.

Did he ever think about Happily Ever After afterwards? Not really. Snow White had been named one of Faebes’ top world leaders for decades now, with pretty much a monopoly on rare Dwarf minerals. Apple was the one that would have been crowned queen; they were not meant to be joint monarchs.

“No…” he confessed. “I mean, I get good grades in Kingdom Management. But I used to think that Apple would handle the political side of things.”

She grinned, and loosened her looped arm to grab his waist and pull him in. “Good. You won’t have to.”

“Rosabella, don’t think so little of me!” he tried to amplify his voice to sound strong, but a slight whinge remained. “I am not completely useless--”

Having finished her coffee by now, Rosabella put her free hand on his chest. “No, no, I didn't mean to insult you. I meant, you won’t have to rule over anyone. We don’t have people.”

“... what?”

“Other than the castle staff, we don’t have subjects,” she said. “Beauty’s the youngest daughter of a rich merchant. My coronation will be an incorporation.”

Daring blinked. “Coronation… incorporation?”

And she explained. How, because each generation, the beast’s castle would be secluded, so when destiny was done and over, him and Beauty had to live and move into it. Twenty to thirty years was too short of a time to cultivate any stable population, so the kingdom was not remodelled into a county, but a company. It was a versatile move on her predecessor’s part, so that no matter the gender of the heir, their lives would be properly set up in a manner to fulfill the story accurately.

He never realised how much he failed to ask about her.

And to think -- the times she thought about him: how she got through all the list of action movies he loved, or how she remembered his ever-complicated drink orders and the moods in which he preferred them, or the efforts she put into being friendly with Dexter and Darling, and reminding Daring about their lives. No detail seemed to slip from her mind.

“A lot of words! A lot of thought!” he said. “No wonder you’re as you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so smart. And well-read! I cannot keep pace with you all the time. It’s highly empress-ive.”

She beamed. “I think highly of you too.”

“I feel like every time we hang out, I learn more. I just… I just hope I’m not boring you. Maybe I should read like you, too.

There - her smile faltered.

Daring felt a very sudden, cold fear that he had upset her.

“I mean, other than for activism purposes, I haven’t really been reading. Legacy Year really thrones you in for a loop,” Rosabella took off her glasses and dusted them with a handkerchief - one that Daring recognised, for he had gifted it. “Too much time spent memorising crowns from birth to coronation, or looking into newly passed legislation. I want to read again.”

“You can read to me.” The response was instantaneous. “I like your voice. I like hearing you talk.”

“If I read to you, those aren’t my thoughts. But I appreciate it, Daring,” she smiled up at him. Even the roses that frequented her family castle’s gardens could not compare to her.

Daring recalled the warm feeling in his stomach, when Rosabella had kissed him for the Fairy Trade Chocolate.

“As a prince that should dash to every lovely princess’ needs, I will make time for you-- so you can make time to read!”

“We’ll start simple. Animal Farm.”

~*~

It had started out simple: hours spent under the trees in the Legacy Orchard, or Rosabella trying to read over the sound of the wind while dragonback riding, her voice starting to sound like a death metal song, or secluded areas of the Castleteria.

But the pages of the books dragged out longer, and Daring grew more eager for fiction, and by the time Rosabella cracked open a copy of Robert Iron Heinrich’s Stranger in a Strange Far, Far Away Land, reading already became an evening past-time on one of their couches in one of their dorm rooms.

At some point in these evenings, he would be comfortable enough to tuck his head between the nape of her chin and clavicle. Comfortable enough to have one arm across her waist, comfortable enough for his breathing to fall in sync with the weight of her words.

And eventually, comfortable enough to kiss for a bit, though never for long. There were books to get to, after all.

(Besides, Rosabella’s voice was perhaps one of the nicest things to fall asleep too.)

#ever after high #darabella #daring charming #rosabella beauty #eccentricextrovert #eahexchange

[yodawgiherd]

Reminiscence

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

There should be more fun ways of waiting for someone than to just sit on your ass and drum a series of tiny holes into your cup. As Levi watched the crowds rolling around him, he couldn’t help but wonder why Petra picked a place like this. It was not his preference to be out in the open, yet when the lady suggested it, he just kind of rolled along with her decision. Not like he had any ties to a coffee shop he had to visit anyway. And there she was, moving through the people like a fish in a water, clearly used to this kind of life. Petra spotted him right away, making a bee line to his chair and sitting down, smiling radiantly after.

“Sorry I’m late, had a call from work I had to solve.”

“It’s all right.”, Levi shrugged, indifferent, “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Okay….”, Petra put her hands on the table, eyes fixing into Levi’s. “So, I’m finally here.”

He snorted.

“Obviously.”

“Something you want to tell me? Maybe?”, she urged him on.

And Levi knew what she was talking about, of course he did, but he was never big on past and especially talking about himself and didn’t feel like opening up to Petra. Despite the promise he gave her, just a few days ago, the asshole he was. He cleared his throat.

“The weather’s nice.”

Petra blinked in confusion, having no idea how cowardly he felt right now.

“I guess?”, she stammered.

“It’s cold, although not as cold as the weather report said it will be. We should count ourselves lucky.”

“Okay, weather is nice,”, she slowly nodded, “but maybe there’s something else you want to talk about?”

“My gym is doing pretty good lately.”

“That’s… good to hear.”

“Indeed. All the fame Mikasa got from winning the tourney, the sponsors, now the money from the photoshoot.”, he flashed his completely out of the loop companion a victorious smile, “I’m thinking of remodeling, maybe expanding even and…”

Petra’s hand hit the table, interrupting his monologue.

“Okay that’s enough.”, the confusion on her face was replaced by a mild anger and irritation, contorting her features, “I won’t sit here and listen to your stalling for a minute more. I came here to get some answers, Levi, and if you are not willing to give them to me, then I don’t see a point of being here at all. You promised to explain why you went missing, without a word, and after all those years you still try bullshitting me? I deserve better.”

Seems like he couldn’t mislead her forever. Well, Petra always was a sharp one.

“I’m sorry.”, he said, directing his gaze at his hands, “it’s my defense mechanism. I usually try not to talk about myself too much, it’s too… personal I guess.”

A warm touch enveloped his right palm, as Petra reached over the desk, squeezing supportively.

“Please Levi,”, she whispered, “help me understand.”

Ah fuck it.

“My parents got murdered,”, he blurted out, wanting to be done with this little window into his soul as quickly as possible, “and my sister was going into adoption. I couldn’t allow that. Got her on a trial period, as her guardian, but to keep her I had to have bigger financial income. In order to do that, I left college, started working full time, and inherited the gym when the old owner died. That’s it, no more secrets.”

Puzzled by the lack of answer, Levi looked up, seeing that Petra had a hand over her mouth, blinking rapidly while her eyes seemed strangely wet.

“Oh my god,”, she breathed out, “I’m so sorry.”

“Been a long time. Got over it.”

“But why did you cut all contact with us?”, Petra’s voice was still shaky, yet he had no trouble of understanding her, “We could have helped you, we were your friends, no?”

“I guess I wanted to start a new chapter in my life.”, Levi grimaced a bit, “I wasn’t really in a good condition back then, mentally, and it just seemed like the only way forward without burdening anybody.”

It was just the way he was. Even with life dumping everything onto him, he was determined to shoulder all the weight himself and silently carry it to the best of his ability, never asking for help. Petra let go of his hand, reluctantly, in an attempt to regain some composure. After dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, getting rid of the moisture, she took a deep breath.

“Thank you for telling me all this.”

A shrug.

“You deserve it.”

“Well, since we got that out of the way.”, she offered him a smile, “What do you want to talk about now?”

And they talked, for long time, about their pasts and presents. Levi learned that Petra was an independent contractor, moving all over the state, although lately she’s been doing a lot of work for Kiyomi and her company. In return, Levi told her all about the gym, the tournament Mikasa won, even begrudgingly talking about Eren, and the influence he had on his little sister. For some reason, Petra seemed really interested in hearing more about that brat.

“So that was the guy at the party? The one with the long hair?”

“Yea, that’s him.”

Yeager and his stupid overlong hair, name a more iconic duo. I’ll wait.

“You know, your sister seemed really happy around him.”

“That’s her. Totally on cloud nine whenever he opens his big mouth.”, Levi frowned, watching Petra’s slight grin over the rim of his glass. “Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to find the reason why you dislike the guy so much.”

“I don’t dislike him.”

“Sure you don’t.”, she teased, “Only anytime you say his name your face sours as if you had to bite into a lemon.”

Levi sighed, a tiny bit embarrassed about the way he felt about his sister’s fiancé who seemed to bring her nothing but happiness. The protective instinct was hard to push down.

“I’m just worried you know. Don’t want to see Mikasa heartbroken.”

“From the way they acted at the party I don’t really see them breaking up any time soon.”, she giggled, “Judging from how often they kissed, they breathe each other instead of oxygen.”

Oh yes, Levi totally needed that mental image.

“Mikasa is…. complicated, all right?”, he pressed on, determined to make Petra see his point, “She had shit for childhood, and I’m very far from being an ideal role model.” Seeing that she still wasn’t understanding him very well, he went on, without going into too much detail. It wouldn’t be very nice to dump all Mikasa’s secret to someone she didn’t even know, but Petra deserved to know at least the rough outlines.

Honestly, ever since she left for college Levi was silently dreading the phone call telling him that his sister assaulted someone. Again. The memory of the boy whose hand she broke just for touching her was fresh in his mind, and it was easy to guess that older guys will be easily more handsy than the high schoolers were. Not to mention all the parties and alcohol that would flow through the dorms. But instead of anything like that, Mikasa called him after about a week, telling him that she met someone special. Levi would never admit that, but his heart still fluttered at the memory. And yet it didn’t put his worries to rest, not completely. Relationship meant intimacy beyond anything Mikasa experienced so far, and Levi had no idea if she was prepared for that. Uncountable times he held her hand until she fell asleep, only for her to still wake up screaming from a nightmare. He raised her, and still she jolted sometimes, when he touched her shoulder unannounced, the hostile expression flashing in her face until she realized who he was. Sure, she was beautiful, anyone could see that, but also troubled, deep inside, and he had no idea if anyone would ever manage to solve that puzzle that Mikasa was.

And girl like this was supposed to hold hand with someone, kiss someone, share a bed, maybe even go further than that? Back then, Levi steeled his heart, waiting for the tearful call from her, her first break up, and was ready to assist her in any way necessary. But the call never came. Instead, he watched this guy, this Eren, put a hand around his sister’s waist without her flinching, press a kiss to her cheek, even a full one on the mouth without anything but happy reciprocation from her. He watched as he made her laugh with his stupid jokes, the weird fixation he had with her hair, endlessly playing with the strands, how naturally they talked, bantering each other, and all the other little things that made him wonder what kind of magic he used to break though Mikasa’s shell. Thought even with this miraculous progress, there were other reasons why he initially didn’t like the guy that much.

“Levi, can we talk?”, she dropped this on him during one of their trainings, still in college. “It’s about Eren.”

Her relationship was just a few days old, back then, so upon hearing this Levi immediately started preparing his best supportive monologue for going through rough breakup. Yet before he could get a word out, she continued.

“I recently found out something and it’s been bothering me.”, she idly played with her fingers, sign of being nervous, “He’s rich.”

“Oh, I see.”, Petra interrupted his story, rather rudely in his opinion, “He didn’t offer you money for your gym when you were doing bad? That’s why?”

“No, that’s not it at all. I don’t even think I could ask him for cash, ever.”

“Why’s that?”

“Wanting money from a guy who’s dating your sister?”, Levi shook his head, “It would feel like pimping her out, I could never do it. Never.”

Plus, Eren was taking a great care of Mikasa anyway. He gave her the bike, then the flat they lived in together at first, and after finishing school the house they moved in.

“Okay then, sorry for stopping you. Go on, please.”

“Only if you promise to keep quiet.”

She made a show of locking her mouth shut and throwing away the key.

“Right, where was I…”

“Rich?”, he said, stroking his chin, “You didn’t know that before?”

Mikasa shot him a reprimanding look.

“This might come as a surprise for you, but we didn’t go around at that party exchanging the balances of our accounts. There really was no reason to wonder about my or his financial situation, but last night we started talking about how we used to live and the conversation just kind of got there.”

“All right, but why is it a bad thing?”

“I mean, the truth is that I’m not exactly drowning in money, right? And with him being like this….”, she grimaced, “I don’t want people to think I’m a gold digger or anything, you know?”

“Does he think that?”

She looked up form her fidgeting fingers, wondering what he meant.

“Think what?”

“That you are only after his money.”

“No, of course not. He knows I had no idea.”

“Then fuck the others.”, Levi leaned in, putting a hand on Mikasa’s shoulder, “You know the truth, and he knows the truth. That’s what matters, right?”

She grinned, nodding.

“Fuck them.”

“The supportive brother.”, Petra patted his hand again, “It’s good to see that side of you that isn’t a total dick to everyone.”

“Yea, I try to keep it hidden.”

“You are doing an amazing job of that.”

“Good to hear.”

“Listen, I really enjoyed our talk, but I really have to go.”, with an apologetic shrug, Petra stood up, offering her hand. Levi took it, shaking it lightly, and for some reason he found himself not wanting this moment to end.

“Maybe we could meet again?”, the words left his lips before he could stop himself, but Petra didn’t seem offender by his proposition. On the contrary, she smiled.

“I’d love that.”

As she was leaving, a seemingly last thought struck her, and Petra turned on the spot, getting Levi’s attention.

“Now that I think about it, I never asked what’s your second half, right?”

He just started at her.

“You know, you are half Japanese, so what’s the other one? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nah, its fine.”, interesting question that’s for sure,” Dad was Russian.”

“Really? Well, maybe you could help me with translating a phrase I’ve been hearing. Now how did it go…”

Levi could see it, from the way her lips pressed together, trying to keep the giggling in, from the sparkle of her eyes, and all the other different signs of her body. He sighed.

“Don’t say it...”

Petra just ignored him, as usual.

“Oh, i remember! Cyka blyat.”

Levi's head hit the table.

In retrospective, staying behind alone with Mikasa at the bar was a really stupid idea on Jean’s part. Sasha was god knows where, Connie left early, saying he must take care of something, and suddenly it was just the two of them, putting finishing touches at the interior. Most of the time they worked silently, exchanging just the necessary words, but it was more than enough. Despite all his talk with Hitch, despite his brave words about being over it, Jean still found himself captivated by her, the way she moved, the sure grip of her fingers, the strength she displayed with easily picking up stuff he would never guess she can lift. And then there were those little things. Redness of her cheeks from the physical activity, movement of her hand as she brushed some strands of hair from her face, the smile she shot him when they finished a particularly difficult talk together. In the end, it all boiled down to the hammer. Mikasa asked him to hand it to her, and he did, but when she was taking it from him their fingers brushed, and Jean’s eyes shot up, traveling over her body. And that’s when he saw them. The bruises. Littered all over neck, at the top, even disappearing beneath the fabric of her shirt, although there was a strip in the middle without any, as if whoever put those love bites on her avoided that area, for reasons unknown. Feeling like all the air was pushed out of his lungs, Jean made a pathetic excuse and dashed out of the door, leaving the confused Mikasa alone, unable to face her anymore.

Cursing himself, cursing her, cursing whatever came into his mind, he dug through his pockets for a cigarette, only to realize that he quit smoking, years ago, pulling out his phone instead, staring at the display. Robbed of nicotine, he thought of a different way to make himself feel better, the one he used multiple times recently, and dialed Hitch’s number, waiting for her to answer. Luck didn’t seem to completely desert him, yet at least, because after two rings, she picked up, greeting him with the voice he came to like and admire so much.

“Hey Hitch, you free for lunch? Want to meet?”

#eremika #fanfic #snk #rivetra #a bit?

[titusreno]

titus and reno

new first chapter draft idea

Reno

The sun was in my eyes as Benja launched his elbow into my solar plexus. His mask was sagging down the side of his face with sweat, the nylon snake eyes staring unnervingly at me, hollow with shadows. Behind him, the trees rose up from the swamp that had swallowed the old neighborhoods of Cypress Hills. I could hear the cry of seagulls and the thrum of cicadas. I stumbled backwards, trying to catch myself before I fell against the rough pavement of the road. I wrapped my arms around Benja’s neck and shoved hard with my knee into his stomach. He hadn’t expected it, and he lost his footing enough that I was able to hook my arm under his throat and spin him backward, moving fast enough that my momentum carried him. Benja was bigger than I was, but I had enough leverage that it just barely worked. I kicked him again in the chest as he fell backward, landing on his ass. I followed him down, grabbing for his mask and just barely getting it up over his eyes. I tried to let out the kind of howl that Benja did when he was competing, deep and guttural. I bent over him with my knee in his chest, pressing his face into the pavement. I could feel his breathing, fast and ragged. Benja coughed and looked up at me.

“Okay, fuck, time. Uncle. Whatever.”

Behind me, I heard Pancake laugh. He and Rustler were sitting at the edge of the practice ring, smoking, their legs extended just over the yellow line on the pavement.

“Was that your frog yell, Reno?” Rustler asked.

Benja laughed. “He’s learning from me, he’s gonna yell. I’m gonna teach him to yell. It’s cool.” He sat up, rubbing the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand.

“You aren’t mad that he’s stealing your thing? Your whole trademark?” Rustler let out a long puff of smoke. The smell carried over to me, pungent and green.

“You might wanna work on a kind of loud ribbit,” Pancake said. He snorted and tried to approximate the noise a frog makes.

I helped Benja up.

“I’m gonna get you back next time,” he said, reaching up to yank the frog mask off my head. “But that was pretty fucking good. You stepped it up since last time.”

I laughed. “That’s because you nearly killed me last time. I had to protect myself.” We walked over to where Rustler and Pancake sat. Overhead, the clouds moved faster and faster over the edge of the horizon, leaving the late afternoon sky a thin, dirty blue. The double electric fences at the edge of the facility reflected the light back in large flat gleams of yellow. I had to squint to see anything. “When am I going to fight you, Rustler?” I thumped him on the back as I sat down.

Rustler grinned, in the slow, half-lidded way he has. His eyes are darker than most other people’s at Auxie Mautlin, and his hair is almost as long as mine. He’s strong and about as beautiful as any of us here get. His legs are half the size of my torso. “You may need to wait a little. You get a little bigger or I get a little sicker. One of the two. If you wait about six months you’ll be able to pulverize me.”

“Don’t say that,” Pancake said. “You have at least a couple years.”

“Dude,” Rustler said. “Don’t bullshit. I’m eighteen already.” His voice was still measured, but his tone shifted a little. “You know I don’t have that long.”

“I bet you’re still gonna be the strongest Fore for a little longer, though,” Pancake said.

“Well, let’s hope.” Rustler offered me his joint, avoiding Pancake’s eyes. I took a hit and passed it to Benja, whose nose was still bleeding.

It isn’t a total taboo to bring up the worms when you’re hanging out with friends. Obviously, we all have them. But talking about death is something else. I remembered Rustler’s friend Foz, who was the biggest Fore when I first came to Auxie Mautlin with a selection of other piggos from my work camp. He had won sixteen matches my first year in the dorms, before the boils under his skin got larger and he started having seizures and was removed to the late-term infirmary. We don’t know how long he lasted after that. We aren’t allowed to visit the hospice units—they’re three miles away.

I got infected when I was two or three, which means I probably have longer than Rustler and definitely longer than Pancake, who had the worm in him already when he was born. They take about sixteen years to start affecting your central nervous system in a serious way, though some piggos start getting headaches at age fifteen.

“Do you guys wanna go take some K-po with me in Caldegot?” Benja asked, after a couple minutes of silence where the only noise came from the seagulls and the sound of the distant gymnasium, where the letlets were still having their phys-ed class.

Pancake laid back on the pavement. “Nah, I hate the stuff it makes me see. It’s all like, purple dripping. Like every time. And those weird stars. It makes me feel all weird and out of it.”

Benja looked at me.

“I haven’t ever taken it,” I said, which was true. I’d had hits off joints that Rustler got from the truck driver that brought the cricketbev and frozen chicken, but never anything else. K-Po was newer, rarer. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was. “It’s like LSD, right?”

Rustler laughed. “It’s just fertilizer.”

“No, man, it’s real,” Pancake said. “You do really see shit.”

“No, I know,” Rustler said. “But it really is just fertilizer. Potassium, you know. Potash. It only works because potassium makes the worms in our guts release weird chemicals. It does it to anyone with the worm. If we were healthy, it wouldn’t do anything.”

“Is that true?” Pancake said. “I for sure thought it was like, a party drug someone snuck in.”

“Pancake, you’re a dumbass,” Rustler said. I couldn’t tell what his tone meant. Pancake looked a little hurt, but he might have just been out of it.

“I wish I knew where they got it,” Benja said. “I guess it’s from the garden sheds. But those are locked down. It’s some girl in Caldegot. She’s got like a total monopoly.”

“It can’t be Kacky,” Rustler said. “I thought she got sicker.”

“No,” Benja said. “Her name’s Jenny.”

“Huh.” Rustler stretched and stubbed the joint out on the pavement. “Well, you know, whatever. I’ll go over there with you if you’re going. Reno, you wanna see some weird purple stuff with us?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to eat fertilizer. “Does it do anything to like, hurt you? Do you get like hungover or strung out or anything?”

“If you take too much,” Benja said. “But we won’t. You have to stay in top shape if you’re going to be able to beat Fib.” He punched my shoulder hard. I flinched a little, but less than I used to when I first was training with him. Benja tries to act tough and rowdy all the time, like he’s so strong he doesn’t know his own strength. I guess sometimes I do too.

As we walked over to Caldegot, I felt the sweat prickle uncomfortably down my back and run down my face. My hair melted against my ears and the back of my neck with sticky intensity. January isn’t the hottest season, yet. That’s still July and August, when temperatures can get into the middle hundred-forties and we all have to stay in the underground dormitories where the air conditioning gets pumped in through dry metal vents. But January is hotter than it was when I was born. I’ve heard that in the part of the country where Auxie Mautlin is, it used to get down to ten degrees in winter just a hundred and twenty years ago. There would have been snow. In the history classes we take, they show pictures of it. Once Mrs. Y showed us a picture of Queens, New York during a blizzard in 2015, the old cars buried in feet of snow, a bicycle completely cemented onto the sidewalk by mounds of shellacked ice. Now, January is hot, and it gets hotter every year, but they don’t let the older piggos go inside for gym because it is still supposed to be winter. When we ducked into Caldegot through a side door, the rush of cold air made me breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

The old dorms at the edge of Auxie Mautlin are different from the ones on the south side of the facility. The south dorms used to be a community jail, so they’re built with thick, bunkerlike cement and heavy doors. The Caldegot and Armistad dorms are just big brick buildings that used to be warehouses, and are almost three hundred years old. They remodeled them inside with the same fabric walls and florescent lighting as the other dorms, and they still have checkpoints and cameras, but they’re lower security than the Bertol or Musk buildings that the letlets live in. I was lucky to get in Armistad when I moved last year. It’s easier to get out to the roof or sneak to matches. I’ve heard older Fores say that things used to be stricter, but the facility is getting harder to staff and the older minders care less and less what we do. I guess that’s good luck.

Jenny’s room, a triple on the third floor, was already full of people when we got there. At least three of them were girls I knew from class. I hadn’t seen Jenny before except from a distance. She was oddly sinewy and sharp-looking, with long hair plaited into two braids that fell across either collarbone. Her uniform was opened to her belly, and I could see the faint sweat gathered at the top of her stomach. She was wearing one of the regulation bras, but pulled down a little, and I could tell that some of the boys were looking at her chest. She sat on the edge of her bunk bed, counting out small packets of something wrapped in brown paper towel. It felt so shady that I almost left then, but Benja moved to sit down next to one of the younger Caldegot girls and raised his eyebrows at me, so I moved inside the door and stood there.

Jenny looked at me. “You with Benja?” Her eyes were as black as Rustler’s. I figured she must be from the Arizzy worktown. I didn’t know any of those piggos very well.

“Yes,” I said.

Jenny nodded. She looked over her shoulder at the bunk above her and craned her neck. “Titus, get three more sets going,” she said. For the first time I noticed the scrawny boy in the bunk above her. He was hunkered down, portioning powder out into the paper packets. His dark hair was almost as long as Jenny’s, and fell across his face. His uniform shirt was open in the same way Jenny’s was, exposing an expanse of pale brown-pink skin that went down to his belt line. He grunted in response to Jenny’s command. Then, in a single long, lazy motion, he wrapped what looked like three packets of the orange powder. He tore each packet off after pouring the fertilizer—or whatever it was—onto the paper, and folded them into little squares. He licked the edges of the squares to make them stick, then looked up directly at me with a strange, unreadable glare. He was so delicate-looking that for a second I wondered if I was wrong about him being a boy.

“Here,” he said, and tossed one of the packets at me. I caught it and looked to Benja, who reached his hand up for his packet. Rustler, who still stood next to me, laughed, maybe at my expression. He ruffled my hair. I would have bristled if we hadn’t all just smoked together. I knew he was trying to be friendly.

“Reno here is going to be taking K-po for the first time today,” he said to Jenny. “Let him know what to do so he doesn’t make a fool of himself.”

Jenny looked at me closely, then nodded. I felt like I was being assessed. She stood up and brushed off her pants briskly. “Do you know what I do here?” she asked me.

“Um,” I said. “I guess I’m not really sure. You give people fertilizer to eat?”

One of the Caldegot girls snickered. The scrawny boy on the top bunk tensed, and I wondered if I might get myself in trouble if I sounded like I was insulting her business model.

“Well, yes,” Jenny said flippantly. “It’s fertilizer. But it is very important, cool fertilizer, because it lets the worms in our bodies show us things.” She smiled at me. Her canines were sharp, like Rustler’s or Pancake’s. Fighters do that to make themselves scarier. “The hallucinogens that the worms release are remarkably consistent. Right, Pozzlin?” She looked at the girl next to Benja.

“Yeah,” Pozzlin said. “You always see the purple planet.” She turned to me.

“The purple planet,” I said. I had heard people say it in classes. I assumed it was an in-joke in some clique that I wasn’t in on. There were a lot of those kinds of things. Everyone had their groups, their own special language.

“It’s like, a theory, right, that we all see the same waterfalls and birds and stuff—the stars and the sky with two moons and all that. And it’s a theory that that’s because it’s the planet the worm comes from. And it looks like it does because it’s an alien planet. It’s not just an acid trip. And sure it’s all like wavy gravy and you see like paisley and stuff too and colors move and distort, but you always see the same kind of cliffs and oceans and always two moons in the sky.”

Pozzlin let that sink in, smirking smugly at me. Benja was playing with a strand of her hair, and she didn’t seem to mind. I looked around the room for confirmation. People nodded.

“It’s like, maybe crazy,” Benja said, “but it’s like, it is sort of interesting. It’s true that you always see the same stuff. And it looks alien.”

“And we know the worm is alien,” another girl with long tight braids said. “It came here on a UFO.”

“A ship,” Benja corrected her. “A ship with a dead mummified humanoid alien on it. If you’re gonna say it, you gotta say the full crazy thing.” A few people laughed. When the doctors first announced that they were able to confirm the thing about the dead humanoid, back when I was still a letlet, everyone had taken bets on whether or not it was true. It was accepted fact now, but it still sounded crazy. Especially because the pharma companies and the state agencies had been insisting for years that the worm was a mutation of a tapeworm that had been bothering pigs for eons on Earth.

Jenny nodded and looked back to me. “So, it’s fun, right, and it is fun. But the real reason I do this is to get as many people as possible to document, to write down, what they’re seeing. Because I think it really might be the world that the bug came from. And if that’s true, it’s data. Important data.”

“Question,” I said. “How would that work? The hallucinations being like, a message. That’s like. Telepathy, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jenny said.

“Do you think the worms are trying to send it to us?”

Jenny shrugged. “Fuck if I know. That’s why we’re out here. More data the better.”

“Hey Jenny,” a boy I didn’t know said from a corner. “You could get more data if the stuff was free, you know.”

“I have to make a living,” Jenny said. Her voice was mild but firm. “I don’t see you guys sneaking into the garden sheds at night to get this shit, so I can charge whatever I want. And it’s more affordable than it was when Kacky was here.”

I looked over at Benja inquiringly. I didn’t have that much to trade for shit. He shook his head and waved me off as if to say I have this one.

A girl laughed. “Bottoms up for science,” she said, and tipped her orange powder back into her mouth.

“Not yet,” said another girl. She looked at Jenny. “Is it okay to start?” The orange sun filtered down through the window and I felt for the first time how warm the room was. I was sort of thirsty.

“Cheers,” Jenny said. “I’m going to put out the paper and markers in the middle of the floor. When you come back up, draw or write what you saw, okay? Nobody leaves without at least one detail.”

“How long does it last?” I asked.                “Like twenty minutes,” the boy sitting on the top bunk said. I looked over at him and he stared back, unblinking, for a second, before he gave a small grin, as if he had just remembered that it might be a nice thing to do.

I saw Rustler raise his hand and dump the powder into his mouth. After a couple seconds, I did the same. I felt someone watching me and looked up to see the scrawny boy on the top of the bed staring me down. When he caught me looking, he looked away. I noticed that he wasn’t taking any K-po. For a second I thought about saying something to him, to try to ask a question or seem cool. But I wasn’t sure what to say. And then my vision started to swim. It was so instantaneous that I sat down against the door heavily, in shock.

At first it was just colors, and this sense of weird peace bubbling up in my stomach. I felt for a second like looking at the scrawny boy on the top bunk and telling him that I wanted to kiss him—which was weird, though I realized that I sort of did. But then I sank deeper, and the colors started to condense and drip and I started to see real pictures. The room in front of me completely vanished, and my hands and arms felt dense and numb and like they were made of fragile glass.

I saw four figures walking on a moonlit landscape, tall and strangely stretched. I couldn’t see their faces, but I knew they weren’t human or piggo. I felt a cold sensation in my gut at the strange trancelike way they walked, and I tried to turn away, but I couldn’t. I was stuck watching them until they vanished over the edge of the horizon. Then my vision danced again, dissolved into colors, and melted into a new scene. I was on a hill, looking out at a sky of strange stars and a red sun. There were flat plains of weird plants, and spires stretching up that might have been stone or vegetable. I couldn’t tell. Spinning above me were two flat blue moons, and under my feet was an ocean of clear water. When I looked at the ocean, I moved toward it, into it, falling down from the hill so fast that I stretched out my hands to catch myself, sure that I would be dashed against the ground, that the pink rocks at the shore would tear me apart. But they didn’t, and I landed in the water. Worms swam around between my toes, the light shimmering off their opalescent bodies. The sensation was still peaceful, sensual. It took several minutes before occurred to me that these were the worms inside me. The ocean rose up under me and I got cold, as if it were really there. The sky went yellow, blue, deep pink, red. I felt a little nauseous, but somehow was having a really good time.

And then I started to come out of it. The ocean stopped feeling cold and I could feel the hot sweaty dorm room and the bodies on either side of me. The moons above me splintered and vanished, and I felt the floor under me for several minutes before I opened my eyes. As I did, I realized that the boy –Titus—was still staring at me from the top bunk. I felt too dizzy to sit up, and closed my eyes until I felt the world settle. When I sat up again, Titus was gone. Around me, other people were already awake again. They were writing and drawing with the markers that Jenny had provided. As the light stopped hurting my eyes, I looked around and realized they were all drawing basically the same things I had seen—everyone focusing on different aspects of the scenario. Jenny approached me and gave me a pen and a marker and a piece of paper that I realized was someone’s old medical form.

“Draw on the back,” she said. “Emotional woo woo stuff is fine for writing but try to draw as literal as you can.”

I’m not a very good artist, but I tried to draw the hill and the two moons. I tried to describe what I saw. I didn’t want to put any more effort into it than anyone else, but I felt profoundly changed and—I guess disturbed—by the whole thing, and suddenly it felt very important that I be honest and try to actually talk about what it had been like. I thought, well, maybe this is a real thing, a real project.

#titus and reno #writing

[isakwon]

Coffee Bean

 Pairing: Reader x Park Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff

Word Length: 1666

Summary: It is said that the string of Fate can never be tangled, make annoying knots, or ever break. But can it be untied from one person at the end?

Coffee Bean Masterlist

A/N: My Second Fanfic! Thank you guys so very much for reading my very first one, I really appreciate you guys! I sincerely hope you enjoy this one as well!   

 “So I gave you permission to use my poem?”

    He smiles back to you.

  “I mean you kinda did write it. And I kinda did help with a rhyme or two.”

You wake up against your jacket used as a pillow, stretching your legs out, and wiping the drool off from the corner of your mouth. Looking around to see if anyone was still awake-but everyone was passed out.  Someone’s head dangling, two had their heads against one another, and a lot of them turned away from the person next to them.

    You opened the window, the sky was deathly dark and starless. You checked the time on your phone.

3:00 a.m.

   Moving to the other side, you close your eyes and drift back to sleep.

….

“My feelings for you aren’t enough.”

“That, or are you really trying to say my love for you isn’t enough!?”

  He whips his head to you.

“I thought I could try to move on but-

   You peel your eyes open again, straightening up in the seat, checking the time again. It’s five a.m. You fiddle with the little ‘accessory’ on your ring finger as you lean your head back.

“I honestly hate to do this.”

 “You’re gonna find out she’s better than me. And if you do learn to love with her, I will do nothing more than respect that.”

“Y/N!”

‘How did time pass for you, Park Chanyeol?’

You close your eyes again and stay awake for the rest of the flight.

….

“Didn’t you have a Christmas Special request for some program?” Minseok asked while pressing the elevator button.

   “ I rejected it so I could be here.” You smile. “Can’t hardly remember the last time I came to visit.”

Ding.

“Yeah, that was never.”

Both of you drag the tree into the elevator and make room for your Yixing whose carrying your luggage.

“Thanks so much for taking my bags, Xing.”

“No problem Y/N. I bet you carried these everywhere you went during your delayed flight. Since you’re super cautious after nearly getting robbed.”

  “Yeah, but I‘m slowly getting over it, I was more worried about whoever was gonna take my bench to sleep on so.

“You know we really missed you Y/N. The boys always kept updated to what you were doing.”

 The guys hug you for a while until the hug breaks by a startling thump on the ground.

Minseok gives a frustrated sigh.

“God damn it, it fell.”

  …..

“Yo, the tree is here!”

Kyungsoo makes some room for the guys to come through before hustling to help Minseok.

“Is someone here?” He asks Yixing who is still carrying your luggage into the room, while you hide in a corner. Surely enough it was working.

  “Is it Y/N? Cause if it’s Y/N, I’m gonna freak and lift her up.”

Hearing Jongin’s speaking voice automatically made you smile.

  “No, Y/N doesn’t have the time. She has to be on a TV show for their Holiday Specials.”

     “Damn, I thought she was coming, I miss her so much.”

  “Well, why don’t ya come on over to me then? Well now, why don’t you come on over to me then? Valeri-i-i-ie?”

 You appear into the living room, singing in your best angelic voice with the most genuine smile you had for the boys. They’re all speechless and completely shocked.

  “Stop making a fool, out of me-e. Why don’t you come on over-”

Your singing is stopped with a hug that almost tumbles you over.

….

With the sudden surprise you pulled off, dinner was Jajangmyeon, soju, and coke. Everyone was in the dorm sitting on the floor, eating and talking mostly listening to you about your career in New York.

You wish you could stay although you loved your time in the ‘Big Apple’, Seoul, on the other hand, was where you got your start and you were more than thankful.

You get up to toss your chopsticks and offer to wash dishes. Junmyeon abruptly stands up, “ No no don’t worry Y/N, you don’t have to do any chores after traveling all the way here.” He takes the plate, “It’s all us.

Sehun and I will do them.”

“Me?”

  Sehun becomes alert looking at Junmyeon who shoots a glare at him. With no further words, Sehun gets up following Junmyeon to the kitchen. Suho turns off the running water then Sehun tugs on his sleeve.

“You think she still thinks about Chan?”

“Shh! Hun, that name is taboo.”

“ I’m saying if she remembers him as a person, their romance happened so long ago. Y/N is matured, I bet she’s been over him now.”

  “Did you not see the string she had on her finger?”

“And so what?”

“Chanyeol gave her that string and he wore one too. It’s their ‘red string of fate’.”

“But Myeon, that’s only a myth in Japan. And if he really loved Y/N as much as he claimed he did, then he would’ve run away from his scheduled engagement.”

  They turn to whoever made the scolding sound.

“Don’t bring that up Sehun, she just arrived and I don’t want her to start crying by hearing that name.” Baekhyun clenches his jaw in front of them. “You’re lucky I wasn’t Y/N who overheard you, blabbermouths.”

  The clash of a plate sounds loud. Loud enough to even crack.

…   

You arrange the blankets when suddenly a hand rests on your shoulder.

 “Have you talked to him?”

“He probably doesn’t want me to. He doesn’t even know that I’m here.”

You said, holding the hand.

   Almost three years went by without a single letter exchanged since the last ones.

You gave the hand a light squeeze,

“H-Has he…m-moved on?”

He sighs, now you’re being held in a back hug. There was silence, both of you kind of stand there. Taking her silence as a “yes”, your eyes feel an agonizing sting as they begin to well up.

As if it shouldn’t have shocked me.

She takes your hand,

 “He still goes to that café you know? He sits there ‘waiting for you’ as if he was going to meet with you. Sometimes I laugh telling him that’s weird.”

You inhale deeply.

“After all these years…how is it possible?”

As unbelievable as it is, your heart pangs at the imagery in your head.

 “You’ve loved him all these years. Isn’t that a sign of when two people are meant to be?”

You cover your mouth to hold a hysterical whine threatening to come out. It only makes it harder for you to calm down.

  “He’ll tell you everything. I’m sure he’ll want to hear all about your aftermath too.”

You turn your head with tears in your eyes.

“Tomorrow morning?”

“I guarantee it.”

From then, your best friend disappears out of the room leaving you alone in your mind.  

Until you snap yourself back to reality.

The cold air hit your face hard making your cheeks burn which is one of your favorite things about the season especially being back in New York.

On your way to the café, you looked around the city, letting nostalgia take over entirely.

Some international fans recognized you.Both K-Drama and K-Broadway. They asked to take selfies and signatures, being the nice person you are, there’s no way you could say ‘no’ to them.

 You stand in front of the door gazing upon the sign before opening the door.

He sits here waiting for me…

  As you open the door, you noticed the wind chimes were replaced with automatic beeping. Not only that but half of the place had been remodeled, taken aback by the new warm orange paint and wooden interior, it looks a little better than before.

  Looking around, you see Yeol wasn’t there however you’re willing to wait the entire morning ‘like’ he does.

“Can I get a Hot Mocha please?”

“Sure thing.”

You sit at a table, sipping on the coffee, and watch the streets outside.

…

You were looking out the store window, drinking your favorite coffee, leaning your chin into your palm, when the door rang open turning your head to see Chanyeol enter through the door.

   He is by himself.

 You wanted to stand on your feet, your heart was racing, with a desire to skip over to Yeol with arms out and hug him. But hesitant, you stayed put. Out of the blue Chanyeol sits at the table taking the seat in front of you.

 “Hey.” You smile.

His sweet smile on him, looking straight into your eyes. He gently touches your hand wrapped around the mug, caressing your wrist softly. “Why won’t you say it?” He asks.

“Heh, I left you a voicemail last night.”

“Not that. The thing you always say.”

You look at your hands around the cup of coffee,

 Three sips.

As well as his finger stroking you adoringly. “Great to see you.”

He chuckles, now looking at your long eyelashes, “Not that either.”

His eyes follow along with his hands’ actions. Adding another finger draping it up and down your thumb. He runs them down your knuckles. Neither of you can take eyes off. Chanyeol softly pets your palm and a few times he attempts on lifting it up. Your fingers bend as he rubs them and gently grazing over your fingertips. Yeol eventually gets a hold of your hand.

You flinch it away after realizing the scene playing. Raising the mug to your lips, scarlet color surfacing on you. His hand falls asleep in front of you.

Two sips 

Clearing your throat, “Wh-What do you mean?”

“You know exactly. In fact, you’re saying it right now.”

Giggling as you keep drinking the coffee.

More patrons walk into the cafe. Others walk out. A vehicle’s horn honking from outside.

“You knew?”

 You ask in a shocked manner. Chanyeol looks straight into your eyes again.To him, it’s the way they shined.

“For a while now.”

  Chanyeol leans back in the chair, pulling his arms closer to himself. “And after finding out the truth I…I wanted to see you more often.”

Drinking a few sips again. 

“But you’re not mine…”

_______

Gif originally by  miss-dunkin-donuts-2003. Thank you SO much for reading!   

#Park Chanyeol #chanyeol #exo chanyeol #chanyeol stans #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo scenarios #exo imagine #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfics #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #exo k #exo baekhyun #exo minseok #exo yixing #exo do #exo drabble #exo chen #exo #exo gif #chanyeol gif #amor de mi vida #exo draft

[everydaychurch]

PATIENCE  by Warren

Patience

Websters defines as ; "the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset:

In the middle of the worship set at my local church on a very laid back and warm Saturday night a word keep pressing on my heart that I couldn't shake. Not an audible voice, but a gut reaction that didn't go away. I don't know if something like this has ever happened to you. It doesn't necessarily need to take place in a church building; but It has occurred to me several times. Most of the time I take it as a sign that God is speaking to me something specific that I need to examine. Most times the word is proven right.

Sometimes a single word, scripture, or lyric from the song being sung will stand out and pose the question of who this prompting is for. Is it me? Is it for the church body? Is it for sometime down the road? Is it for someone I know?

Saturday was a little different.

My wife Julie and I were at the Saturday service to be "prayed out"; as we were leaving the following morning to be part of a large group leaving on an in-state mission trip to a rural church with a large camp on site to the north. It is a property I am very familiar with. I spent 2 different seasons of time there as an associate pastor and worship leader. 11 years the first time and 2 years the second. Its a nice church. The congregation is quite large for such a small town, but maintaining such a huge camp campus of 19 acres was and always is challenging for the staff and attendees. I put endless sacrifice, blood, sweat, and tears into this place; sometimes at great cost.

Yet here  I was preparing to leave, along with 100 or so additional volunteers to build cabins, paint buildings, facilitate a vacation bible school, remodel dorms, landscape, and anything else asked of us. I am on day 1 of the trip as I write this and I am already exhausted. In addition to being on the Painting team I am leading worship and brought this morning's devotional to the group. This is where Saturday night comes full circle. 

Let me provide a little backstory if I may

A big area in my life that challenges me is impatience. Part of the outward appearance of my struggle is my 16 mile one way commute to work or home in heavy traffic. Without a doubt this is the most frustrating, horrific encounter that pushes my buttons. You know the old saying "too slow you're a lollygagger but too fast your a maniac"? Don't let me get started with tailgaters.I hate commuting.

Work is second place on my impatience list; especially the computer systems I use to update the information I need. So many workarounds and slow-downs it makes me want to literally scream at full volume in a desperate attempt for someone, anyone, to provide relief. Why do computers instinctively know how to slow down when you need answers and need them now? 

This is why during worship when the word "PATIENCE" popped into my head my first reaction was "Oh great, God is going to really go after my impatient attitude and hound me to change. Oddly the word impatience wasn't the word I heard. 

I wasn’t surprised by this word I thought. I knew impatience needed to be dealt with in my life. My assumption was the ensuing challenge of this word, now dominating my mind, was the beginning of God pushing me until I did something about it and I should. But as I stood there in the midst of a cool worship song I have since forgotten God spoke further stating "No Warren that's not quite what I am saying". It's much, much deeper than that.

You see God's character is nothing like mine or any other human being that has ever breathed on this planet. Patience is one of God’s many loving attributes. The Bible clearly communicates this throughout all of the writing contained within. Specifically it says God wants to "develop" our character to be like His. Not perfect but on a path to mirror His. We are to be imitators of Christ as Ephesians 5:1-2 says “ Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.

Well I thought "I can try harder I guess". To try harder is what I assumed was going on, but that certainly begs the question. "If Patience is a Godly Characteristic can I improve my character through trying harder alone?" I don't think so; even if fleshly effort is made you will come to a place of frustration as you fall short. 

Character is something that grows in line with our relationship with God. You want to be like Jesus? Be with Jesus. Draw closer to Jesus. You desire more patience? Give your request  to Jesus and ask Him to help you.

As I continued to dwell on patience my thought process shifted to where God began reminding me of how dissatisfied I felt I have been with who I am as a believer in Christ. My self-absorbed attitude every time I failed resulting in the inner chorus of "I can do better" blaring like an off-key trumpet  in my ears. This mind game further opening up the the twisted whispers on how I was failing miserably again and how this time is probably the last time God is going to let me get away with this.Those thoughts were contrary to God of course, which I knew, and had to fight off.

How sadly we forget sometimes that Jesus alone sets us free. We don't free ourselves; its impossible. All He asks of us is to believe who He Himself, and all of heaven declares He is. Jesus invites us to follow Him so that we can become like Him. This is how our character is built. Through our relationship with Jesus Christ.  Why does character count? It counts because Jesus wants His character spread to our world around us through his followers.

However, when we come to the place of believing in Jesus it happens from a position of a fallen life. We have habits, flaws, faulty thinking, coping patterns, family dysfunctions, abuse, trauma, failures. We have bundled up a lifetime of mistakes that have messed us up.

The key to remember is God knows our story. Nothing is a shock to Him. He is fully aware of  what has happened to us, how we got there, and has plans only He can fulfill in freeing us to a place of wholeness.

The good news that we can  stand firm on is the fact that God is Patient.  He is patient with our mistakes. The book of Romans 2:4 states "Its His (God's) kindness that leads us to repentance." Patience is Love, Patience is Kindness.  I Corinthians 13:4-8 also says  "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails" 

To apply logic we can then concur that If God is patient with us why are we so impatient with ourselves sometimes? When we fail, and we will, God sees it. We aren't fooling Him. To our good fortune He is patient. His character is love and His heart is to mold us as clay in the hands of the Master He is. The smartest move anyone can make when they blow it is to focus on Him and draw close. Instead of playing the " I keep screwing up" mental gymnastics give yourself a break and know God's intention is good and filled with mercy. Choosing not to deal with issues contrary to the heart of God is a different story, but true desire to change will never be thrown out of God’s plan for you.

You see the crony cohort of impatience is Anger. Find an impatient person and you will likely find an angry person. Traffic delays, fast food taking too long, client late for appointment, package not arriving on time, or the loud neighbor who refuses to turn down their music. Certainly issues that open the door to impatience and anger. But how about the wayward teen you can no longer reason with, the spouse who doesn't listen or seem to care, or the habits and sins you can't seem to overcome? With these later issues you might just mix in sadness, depression, and guilt as well.  

The Apostle Paul spent quite a bit of time with the Holy Spirit. He allowed himself to be immersed in God's presence and passed the key to developing the character of Christ  on to his protege Timothy. He said this in I Timothy 1:15-16 " It is a trustworthy statement, deserving full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, among who I am foremost of all. Yet for this reason I found mercy, so that in me as the foremost, Jesus Christ might demonstrate  His perfect PATIENCE as an example for those who would believe in Him for eternal life.” 

You see just as Impatience has a partner named anger. Patience has a partner as well called "Peace"

As we live out our Christian lives built up in Christ's character and walking in patience and peace we become the example that impacts all people and demonstrates the Good News in its intended truth. We can only give to others what has already been built in us. 

I am, and you are too a work in process. To use a little negation let me share why I don't ever plan to have a "fish" or Jesus bumper sticker on the back of my car. 1) I have been passed on the freeway by cars going 80+ with Jesus stickers on their bumpers, I have been cut off, flipped off, and road raged by cars with "fishes" on the bumpers which leads to; 2) I am not always the most behaved driver myself at times. I need more Jesus taking over, I need more patience. I ask for Holy Spirit help as I drive every commute. Since giving my impatience to Him it is getting better- and I have more peace, but I ain’t done yet. I am sure there are other situations other than commuting where I need help. 

Why share this? Since the point is for us to be like Jesus as His followers we need to allow Him to develop the character He extends to us. We are redeemed by His love to be His example. If we are constantly impatient, angry, self-condemning, arrogant, argumentative, or guilt ridden how can that truly be effective in demonstrating the heart of God?

For me when I have emotions, actions, or feelings I know are not in alignment with God's character I refuse to beat myself up. I go to God. I ask for help. I simply ask His forgiveness with an honest heart.I am leaning to be patient as He helps me overcome. Since He is patient I shall be patient. As I am patient I grow and extend the character of God to others in love. 

Blessings, 

Warren

[amisbro]

HEAVENS' HOMECOMING!

Joshua: Well...another Anniversary is come and gone. Good for STARISH and QN getting their game localized cos that is something western fans like myself will definitely check out when the time comes

*Out of nowhere audible voices can be heard in the distance and Joshua looks confused*

Joshua: Uh...what the hell? What is going on here and where is THAT coming from?

*Joshua runs out of his office and looks over the railing. No luck but he does spot too familiar friends that might be able to help him*

Joshua: Shinya...Reisi can you hear that noise? I'm trying to figure out where its coming from!

Shinya H.: JOSHUA...LONG TIME NO SEE! I happened to hear this a little bit ago but I'm stumped to where its coming from too! Mr. Munakata do you know anything?

Reisi M.: *Thinks* from what I can tell it sounds like its coming from the courtyard...where is that again? Its been a while for all of us and they redid this place recently didn't they?

Joshua: They did! I'll be right down and then we can figure this out!

*Joshua heads to the elevator and gets down to the ground floor where he meets up with Shinya and Reisi as they start discussing what is going on*

Joshua: So they started renovating this place while i was gone?

Shinya: Yep and they wanted to make it look more like a Dorm setting. We were curious as to why but never got an answer.

Reisi: Yukari was surprised too! When he came to the building after work one day we had to help him figure out where your office was cos...WE DIDN'T KNOW!

Joshua: 2017 remodel and it took to June...LOVELY! ANYWAYS we need to figure out where the way to the courtyard is...LET'S GO!

*Joshua leads the charge as they make their way through what has become a bit of a maze to figure out where EXACTLY the entrance to the office courtyard is but as they do Joshua keeps an ear out to hear if the voices are getting louder or dimmer. As he opens doors he can't seem to hear anything and Shinya and Reisi have little luck as well!

When all is seeming lost..a breakthrough happens!*

Joshua: Guys stop for a second!

Shinya/Reisi:...what's going on?

Joshua:...Let's go...3 doors down and then two lefts!

Shinya: How...I forget that you have an acute sense of hearing when you need it and this is one of those times! Reisi...let's get a move on cos Josh is gonna leave us otherwise!

Reisi: On it!

*The trio runs through the maze following Joshua's instructions and lead and as they do the voices get louder and louder UNTIL...*

Joshua: WELL SPEAK OF THE DEVIL!

*There they were...Joshua's "Family" in HEAVENS was standing in the courtyard with smiles on their faces! Something was going on and Joshua didn't know what...he was going to find out soon though!*

Van: CURTIS-CHAN!

Joshua: Hello my energetic friend!

Eiji/Eiichi: Its great to see you again Joshua.

Joshua: Always my brothers....and that goes for ALL of you! Kira, Shion, Yamato, Nagi...you all are very good people that I am 100% happy to see here right now...but that brings up one question

Kira: Why did we come?

Joshua: Correct Mr. Sumeragi. I know that you don't come here usually UNLESS something important happened or needs to be delivered. Which is it?

*At that moment Shion walks up to Joshua and hands him an Envelope. The contents to which he doesn't know what is in it but as he starts reading he has to compose himself as he gets to the end

Here is what it said*

Joshua: Dear Mr. Curtis

Raging O: (In his office writing the letter)

Its been a little while Mr. Curtis hasn't it? A lot has happened in the time that you encountered my boys and it started with you, like many not wanting the "Original Trio" as we both now call them, to be around. I can respect that because Eiichi WAS a bit of a handful and so was Nagi. You didn't want them around and that opinion could be respected.

HOWEVER...things changed didn't they?

You were quick to realize that they aren't bad kids at all and you wanted to see success for them to put them equal to STARISH and you still do. For that you should be commended because its been 2 years since you started swearing loyalty to my boys and you haven't wavered. No matter what anyone said or did you held steadfast in your convictions and we at the Raging Agency thank you for that wholeheartedly.

There was just ONE PROBLEM

We didn't know how to properly repay you at the time...now we do!

Effective immediately...

*Back to Joshua*

Joshua: HEAVENS' story will begun to be told! Your loyalty and all that you went through for 2 years is being rewarded and now HEAVENS...IS OFFICIALLY GOING TO BE A PART OF UTAPRI!

*To say that the emotions overwhelmed Josh would be an understatement! His body felt like a brick but HEAVENS IMMEDIATELY came to his side and they all smiled when they saw the tears on his face.

Why? Because they knew he wasn't crying because he was upset...its because what he went through was FINALLY BEING REWARDED! There WAS one thing that was still on his mind though*

Joshua: What was that song that we heard when we were making our way to the courtyard?

Eiichi: Oh that? Well we were so happy that we wanted to make sure you knew about it so Kira suggested "HEAVENLY PARADE". I don't think we would object to doing it one more time but this time we need that ONE MISSING INGREDIENT!

Joshua: DONE...LET ME GO GET READY!

*Joshua got his strength back in his legs and ran back to his office to get changed and when he came back Reisi and Shinya saw something pretty cool in Joshua wearing the "HEAVENS Blue" and they could tell one thing...he was as happy and content as ever!*

Joshua: Boys...one time for our two friends here!

*As Kira began with the song and then followed by the rest of the crew one thing started ringing through Reisi's Head that he remembered Joshua sharing with him and Shinya in the past

"Triumph can never be without a little tragedy...my boys have been through so much tragedy that when the day comes that their personal triumph comes it WILL be SO BIG that no one can or will be able to shut me up! All I ever want for my boys is to be happy, healthy and safe. If I can help them get that then...when the day comes I can die happy! I bleed HEAVENS Blue and that is where I will leave my heart and soul when the time comes. Those that don't get it...I can't help them anymore. I move on with my life now!"

When Reisi remembered this he looked at how happy Joshua was and he knew one other thing

Shinya and Reisi will never be replaced by HEAVENS because they are a part of his life too...but there is ALWAYS going to be something special about the blue of HEAVENS that Joshua will wear now...AND FOREVER!

#Amisbro #uta no prince sama #chat fic #HEAVENS #WELCOME TO THE MADHOUSE BOYS #and welcome to being a permanent part of my life!

[captainolive23]

Fun Facts about Lawrence, Kansas

(So this is mostly just for people who want their fics to be accurate. I'm not saying you have to use these things in fics but if you want to, here ya go.) Ok so as someone from Lawrence I have trouble reading supernatural high school au fics that take place in Lawrence because of all the inaccuracies. Which is the sucky part of having the main characters from your favorite show be from your home town. Ok so first off if your fic takes place before 1997(1996?) then there was only one high school in town (Lawrence High) but if you're making it take place in modern day then there are 2. The newer one is the one I went to so I'm gonna give you some facts about Free State cuz I don't know shit about Lawrence High. -Free State was designed by a prison designer. -they were going to name it "Quantill High" but if you know anything about Lawrence history you know that Quantrill was a dude from Missouri, who during the civil war came over to Lawrence and burnt the town to the ground and killed a shit ton of people. -when you first walk into free state you see the main common area which is also the lunch room. There's two main doors leading into this area. One is on the side that faces the main road and the other is on the side that faces the student parking lot. The entrance to the office is on the side with the parking lot. -up until my senior year anyone could pretty much walk in the doors any time of day. Then in my junior year there was a remodel and the office got moved so they started locking the doors during the day and if a parent needed to come in or if a student got in late you had to get buzzed in through the office. -one security guard is total dick and will get after anyone for anything. Like wearing hats for example. While wearing a hat was against the dress code, none of the teachers gave a shit. The principal didn't give a shit either. Hell the other security guard really didn't give a shit. But one time it was snowing and it was cold as fuck and I was wearing my hat. The second I walked in the door this guy was yelling at me for wearing a hat. -so the average school day goes from either 0 hour to 6th hour or 1st hour to 7th hour. Most people go 1-7 but one of my friends went 0-6 since she had to be at school super early every day anyway. 0 hour starts at 7 am. 1st hour starts at 8. I wanna say that 6th hour ends at 2:20ish but I could be wrong. 7th hour ends at 3:10. -there are 3 lunch periods taking place throughout 5th hour. 1st lunch was preferred by most people but second lunch was nice to cuz it cut 5th hour in half and made it feel waaayy shorter. -we also had open lunch where we could leave to go to one of the restaurants or stores that surrounded the school. There was taco bell, burger king, McDonald's, starbucks, Jimmy johns, arbys, little ceasars (which tastes like the schools pizza so we avoided going there), dominoes, Chipotle and orange leaf(frozen yogurt place) and there was a Wal-Mart, CVS, a dillons (krogers grocery store), hyvee (another grocery store) and sprouts (organic food grocery store). If you had a car you could probably go other places too but lunch was only 30 minutes long so most people didn't. -wednesday and Thursday are short days. Until my senior year (so last year) Wednesday schedule was 0,1,3,5,7 starting at 7 and ending at 2:30. Thursday was 2,4,6 and was late arrival so school didn't start until 9 and went until 2. That switched my senior year so now Wednesday is the super short day. -they also started holding classes at the new career and college center during my senior year. Basically juniors and seniors can take one 3 hour long class at this place and get college credit. The class I took was forensic science but there was also a nursing class and a robotics class. There were others to but I don't remember them. You could either take the class in the morning or in the afternoon (which is what I did) and it only lasted one semester but if you took the science class that gave you a whole science credit instead of half a credit like a normal science class. -you only needed 3 science and 3 math credits to graduate but it you wanted to go to college you needed 4 of each. You had to have 4 English credits to graduate. -senior consumer math taught you how to do taxes and shit. -as long as you're not an overachiever senior English classes are fucking easy as hell. My first semester class was myth, fantasy, and folklore and we barely had to to any writing and my teacher read to us cuz it was the first class of the day and Mr. Wolak was about to have his first kid so he was practicing his character voices. And the second semester class was a little harder cuz it was mostly writing but Ms. Elliot was super laid back (someone brought pot brownies to her class once and she ate one even tho she knew there was pot in it. Seriously there's a reason she was everyone's favorite teacher) -the dress code was not heavily enforced. The only person who really cared was the security guard I was talking about earlier. -juniors and seniors could be office aids or teacher aids. Becoming a teacher aid was a little harder cuz you had to get a note from the teacher and permission from your counselor but becoming an office aid was pretty easy as long as there was an opening. -you only had to have half a P.E. credit (one semester) to graduate. Most people took more since it was an easy a. -you also had to have half a foreign language credit. So now we're going to get into actual stuff about Lawrence. -LAWRENCE IS NOT A SMALL TOWN. In the 80s and early 90s it kind of was but it's not anymore so if you're writing a fic that takes place in the 80s or 90s then it's fine to write it as a smallish town. But if you're basing it in modern day Lawrence it's not small. The high schools are getting so overcrowded they're thinking of building a third one. -there are 14 elementary schools. 4 middle schools(which were junior high (7-9th grade) until my 8th grade year when it switched to middle school(6-8th) in 2011). There are 2 high schools. There's also a bunch of private schools but idk how many since they're not on the district website. -downtown Lawrence has a bunch of really cool old houses and all 3rd graders in the town get to take a tour of downtown Lawrence and see all the historic spots (like the giant boulder in the park and the oldest cemetery in town) -the sorority and frat houses are in downtown Lawrence. -there's this really creepy mansion between the frat houses that I always thought looked like a castle and I'm pretty sure a dentist lives there or at least did when I was little. -the guy who invented basketball lived here. -a couple years ago they blew up one of the dorm buildings cuz they built a new one and it was this huge thing that anyone who didn't have to work that day went to watch. I still have the video on my laptop. It was awesome. -the one place almost every teenager in town goes to hang out is java break. Its been here since my mom was a kid. They make milkshakes and smoothies and you can add cereal to them. There's a room in the back that's basically the graffiti room. You can draw on any surface you can find in there. There's some really cool art work in there and every once in a while they go in and paint over it. Most people just draw dicks tho. -the last day that the outdoor pool is open every summer they have a dog day where people bring their dogs to go swimming. I've never been since my dog hates water and other dogs but it always looks like fun. -on the 4th of July they have a firework show by the river which is next to downtown. I usually go to the hospital parking lot to watch it. -there's this one homeless dude who lives near the river who has chickens and the cops just sort of leave him alone cuz he's far enough away from any residential areas that he's not bothering anyone. -Lawrence is the most liberal town in Kansas mostly because Its a college town. We are an island of blue in a sea of red. -there are still racist homophobic douchebags here but not nearly as many as you would expect. There are a couple assholes that like to hang confederate flags on their trucks. Unfortunately said douchebags went to my school. They didn't have many friends tho. -the the Campbell's own pretty much everything in town. Every time they start another housing community they named it after one of their kids. From what I've heard most of their kids are pretty nice but I knew one of them and he was a total dick. He was the stereotypical rich white guy. -the other super rich family in town is the Compton's. They own peacocks, zebras and a camel. -both families live in these super huge mansions near free state high school. The Compton's oldest son dropped out of college to become a rapper and from what I heard he sucks at it. -for a long ass time there was only one place in town you could get fried chicken (kfc) but in the past 2 years we've gotten about 10 different fried chicken places. All of them within about a 3 block radius of each other. -for a long time (about 20 years) there was a bridge to no where next to the movie theater because they started building a road but then had to stop cuz they didn't have permission to build through the marshlands. They recently finished it. -the movie theater got remodeled in the last couple of years and it used to be super gross but now it has reclining seats that are super comfortable and it's a lot cleaner than it used to be -south park is downtown and it has a gazebo. -every year the humane society hosts a zombie walk downtown and it starts at south park. Its a really big thing. People decorate their jeeps with zombie parts and fake blood and have "zombie hunter" stickers. People dress up as either zombies or zombie hunters and walk through downtown. Some of the zombie costumes are fucking amazing. And there's always this one guy that goes with his daughter and they run up to random people and scream in their faces. My best friend got her picture in the paper one year cuz her zombie costume was that good. Anyway that's all I can think of for now. If anyone wants a part 2 or has any questions just ask and I'll do my best to help.

#supernatural #supernatural fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #sorry if the beginning seems confrontational #but I like high school aus and modern aus #it's just hard to read ones that take place in Lawrence cuz in my head I'm constantly trying to correct things #seriously tho if anyone has questions about Lawrence I'll be happy to answer them #my grandma's first car was a '67 chevy #destiel #supernatural au

[emma-poole]

Still, like pooled water. Five years old. The dairy leaves me congested. Cheese turns my head into a cotton ball. My mother takes me to a holistic doctor in the neighborhood. His name is Stephen. Stephen has gentle hands and kind eyes. I am intrigued by his office, the soft, muted colors. He asks my mother about my diet, has me lay down on a padded table while he palpates different body parts with his fingertips. The whole left wall is lined with windows. Sun pours in through the glass and lights up my baby hairs. I look like a reclining angel. A congested angel.

 Six months later, after a strict elimination diet of no dairy and wistful trips down the grocery store cheese aisle, I return to the office. He holds a milk carton up to my right hand to see how my energy reacts. My hand accepts the milk. I can eat dairy, but gradually. Everything in moderation. We discover my healing colors are purple and green. I feel validated, as I've always been drawn to earth tones and have a special affinity for anything purple. I lay on a bed in a room covered with lighting slides in my heart colors. I dream of my father and ice cream. The color green wakes me up, though I can't remember falling asleep. Slow, like molasses dripping off a metal spoon. The blank space before a memory forms. No more cotton head just limbs of honey. Malleable, five years formed. Is this why I place rose quartz on my heart when I feel sad? If left long enough, the crystal will take on the body's heat, becoming warm to the touch.

13 years later I move into my college dorm. I adorn my twin extra long bed with purple pillows and a sage green comforter. Fire is prohibited but I place scented candles in empty corners and turn my new space into home. I've become skilled at this. Friends remark that my room feels cozy. They lean on my throw pillows and borrow jewelry I never wear. I cry myself to sleep almost every night of freshman year, remembering a boy with blue eyes and large hands. I used to stare at the bumpy ridge of his cuticles and wonder how something could be so beautiful. He comes to me in dreams, which becomes torturous. In movement class, we roll around on the ground proclaiming our pain. Agony slips out my throat onto the rubber floor. I am howling in front of my classmates, body folded into grief. If we had babies, do you think their eyes would be brown or blue? Green maybe, you'd whisper. You liked me in green. Said it brought out my eyes.

We never made it to your cabin that summer before I left. Your mother got sick and began to lose her mind. She wrapped household appliances in paper and gifted them to you for your birthday. You sat with me in your backyard, confused and ashamed of the illness inside your mother that seemed to take all the good parts of her captive. I comforted you by talking about my father. It'll be ok, I told you, cradling your weeping head. Soft, like silk on bare skin. You kiss me. Your mouth is salty and warm. I can taste you seeking refuge in me, desperate to empty yourself of the pain you conceal so well between pursed lips and a puffed-up chest.

 Months later, you tell me the distance is too much. You harden into a stranger I don't recognize, blame me for leaving you, despite having known the circumstances all along. I reach out for you in my sleep, beg the universe to bring you back to me. My heart is a fist lodged into the center of twisted muscle. Constant, relentless ache. You become cold, hostile, and mean. Breathing turns into a task, forgetting, a goal. But I want to remember. I am obsessed with re-living our memories, see the two of us outside the day you told me about your mom. Your eyes matched the sky, clear and blue, as your mouth trembled. Chin up, my son. Why do we teach boys not to cry? What becomes of the women who turn into surrogates of their mothers?

 Hard, like a peach pit stuck in a wind pipe.

 Suffocating, like heartbreak.

 The year after I move to New York, my grandmother dies. She passes peacefully, after a quick and accosting bout with dementia. I go to see her in the final days. Her hospice room overlooks green grass and sprawling trees. There is bad art on the wall, but the windows make everything softer. Sun pours in and lights up her tiny frame. She is all skeleton, skin translucent over bird-like bones. Her head hangs at a forty five degree angle. I search her eyes for recognition but she is elsewhere, death waiting patiently to claim the last lucid parts. I imagine myself in a rocking chair with her on my lap, her tuft of thin white hair velvety against my chest. I would rub her back and cradle her small bones in my warmth, tell her it's ok to let go, that there are people waiting for her on the other side. A son and husband she has waited years to see again. She used to walk into the kitchen when I had guests over and present framed pictures of my uncle Michael and Grandpa Joel. Her first love and firstborn. She'd stand there like a child presenting her most prized possession and pass the picture around to my slightly uncomfortable but very gracious friends.

 My nana always wore lipstick and had eyes the color of deep water. She marked water glasses, dogs, and humans with her pink mouth print wherever she went. People told her she looked like Marilyn Monroe, which she loved, since they shared a name. She was beautiful, kind, stubborn and heartbroken. A part of her died the day she lost her husband and later her son, which is why standing in that room, days before her death, it felt right that her time on earth would soon end. As her body decayed, I knew her consciousness was expanding.

Rocking her, I'd whisper thank you for showing up. For all the graduations, plays, family dinners and stories. And for letting me be your roommate the summer after my freshman year of college when I came to you, stung over the loss of my first love, looking for comfort and a familiar place. I slept in the water bed all of June, July and August, occasionally sneaking in and out of the window that faced the yard. I even brought a boy into your house that summer, but you didn't know. Instead, you threw me a surprise party for my 19th and invited all my close friends. They brought me candy nipple tassels which we somehow convinced you to take a bite of.

 Remembering isn't fair, because it is never as accurate as the heart wants. Details become grainy, smells are lost. Except in that house, your house, the same one we stayed in when mom moved us back North from Florida to Niskayuna, New York, the town she grew up in, you live on. If I close my eyes and imagine it, I can smell rotisserie chicken warming in the oven, the pink bathroom enveloped in a waft of floral perfume. It smells like Nana in here, we’d say.

 I wonder if the people who live there now ever experience signs of before. I hear they remodeled it, changed so much that it barely resembles the brick house I knew. I think she'd be happy knowing a family inhabits the place that hers grew in.

I love you so much, I'd tell her. Now off you go.

 Calm, like wind rustling leaves. She is nowhere and every where.

 I visit Israel the summer of 2014. The old cities with their cobblestone streets and white washed buildings feels like stepping into a movie. In Jerusalem, girls and women dressed in long skirts tilt their heads against the wailing wall. They tuck their secrets into paper notes they wedge between the wall’s stones. I wonder what their bodies look like under the layers of clothing, if any of them have mothers who tucked them into bed at night with amethyst under their pillows. Do they marry men who nurture them or whose mothers they become ghosts of? I want to feel devotion the way they do.

 I think of Camp Coleman, a Jewish summer camp in Georgia my sister and I attended in grade school. The best part of camp was the blob, a giant inflatable raft that sat on the lake. One person sat on the edge of the blob while the other jumped off a ledge and upon landing, sent the person on the edge of the raft zooming up into the air. I liked the horseback riding, movie nights and camp food. But I also liked the daily services and hymns sung in Hebrew. I had a crush on a boy named Evan. He had blonde curls and brown eyes and we slipped notes to each other in the dining hall. It was the first summer I ever tried Nair, since some of the girls shaved their legs, which gave me great envy. I found out I was allergic to Nair and had to sit out of camp activities for a week because of the boils on my legs.

 I walk over to the wall. Closing my eyes, I place my palm on the cool stone and remember. I think of my grandmother, whose faith she turned to when life became harsh. Come with me to shul, she'd say, the more Jewish word for temple. I think of my mother, my grandmother’s gift to me, and our childhood home that she filled with plants and nourishing food. I am forest green and deep purple, embodied in my memories. This city is blue. Like my grandmother’s eyes. The first boy I loved. And my mother’s.

 The stone beneath my hand has become warm. I tear a piece of paper out of my journal and scribble the names of those dearest to me on it. Folding it up, I tuck it into the nearest empty space.

[wanderingaunt]

My One Day Story

“That’s your ‘One Day’ story,” my therapist said as she looked across the room at me.

“My what?” I asked as I stared at her blankly.

“Your ‘One Day’ story. You know the ‘One day I’m going to paint my room this color.’ ‘One day I’m going to save money to follow my dreams.’ ‘One day I’m going to open my heart and let someone in.’ It’s the story you keep telling yourself that one day you’re going to do. Yet, you keep telling the story rather than actually doing anything to make it come true.”

One Day.

Tears filled my eyes as the words she said began to sink in. It was the beginning of 2015. I had spent months dealing with depression and finally took the step towards receiving help. I found a therapist recommended by my church. She was warm, caring, and direct. It was the first time I had ever been to a therapist.

After a couple of ‘getting to know you’ sessions, conversations began to shift on a deeper level. I was opening up to her slightly more each week. On this particular visit I had just finished sharing about my life as a dreamer.

When I was 7 years old, my parents decided it was time to remodel our house. We were living in an old house that belonged to my great grandparents. My 3 siblings and I shared a loft upstairs above the kitchen. We each had our own twin beds that my dad had crafted for us. He’s always been a craftsman and super creative with his skills. I loved our space. I loved being near my siblings and having a window that overlooked our open yard. Yet, the reality was my oldest sister and brother were getting older, and it was time for us to shift to having our own spaces. It was an exciting process to move the house and expand it. We jacked the house up, moved it over, dug a basement, moved the house back, and added on a second story. We went from a quaint house to what felt like a mansion to a young child. Some of my favorite memories playing are when we were in this transition. We had large dirt piles in our yard from digging the basement that became our playground. We’d make tunnels, play capture the flag, sled down the dirt…it truly was a kid’s dream.

Progress on the house halted not long after the house had been moved. Cement floors had just been poured in the basement. My dad had been working at the top and slipped and fell 10-12 feet onto the concrete slab. He shattered both of his feet, had to have surgeries to repair the damage, and was confined to a wheelchair for the several months after. Contractors continued to work on various parts of the house. When the house was moved back and the top story was added, not much work happened after that. We moved into the basement and this would become our home for the rest of my childhood and teenage years.

My sisters and I were to have our rooms on the top story or “way way upstairs” as we called it. Way way upstairs became my dreamland. I would spend time in my wall-less room and dream. I had two windows—one with a dorm and one on the side of the room. I would sit up in my space and dream of how I was going to decorate my room. I was going to paint the walls a pretty lilac, paint my bed white with floral bedding, and have a white desk built into the dorm for writing. Even from a young age, I knew I wanted to be a writer. As the years passed by, I still dreamed of what my room would look like one day, and held onto the hope that it would one day happen.

One Day it would happen…

That reality never came true. Death of close family members, alcoholism, and financial strains turned the finishing of our house into a “one day” story. I learned to be content sleeping in various corner rooms of the basement and eventually on a couch in the living room area. Even without having walls, I still made my space my own. I made sure to make up my space every day and keep it tidy.

I learned to create order in the midst of chaos. I learned to make whatever space I had available to me as my own. I learned to not get attached to having a room. I learned how to be a nomad. I learned to be a dreamer.

I spent a couple of months working through my ‘One Day’ dreams with my therapist. At the time, my ‘One Day’ dream was to find a different job and travel more. Deep down I wanted to find a partner, yet I didn’t believe at my core that I was meant to be in a relationship, so I kept that ‘One Day’ dream tucked deep within my heart. Eventually I worked through some of these areas and have been surprised and amazed to see them actually come to life. Within 3 years of sitting on the couch in my therapist’s office, I got my own apartment for the first time in my life (even though it was short-lived), quit my corporate job, and become a nomad traveling and modeling in photoshoots all over the world. I even went on to find love—which I never thought would be possible.

One day stories start from having a dream. One day stories create hope that ‘one day’ it could happen. One day stories continue to be some dream in the future until action is taken.

While I have had much healing since that day on my therapist’s couch, I still live inside of my ‘One Day’ story. I still live inside of “One day I’ll write my book. One day I’ll fully accept love into my life. One day I’ll have a thriving business and be free from financial strain.” Ironically, I’m back to living in a room of a house that’s not my own and dream of what it will be like to ‘one day’ have my own place again. I’m still content being a nomad, and forever grateful to my sister and her family for giving me a space to make my own. And they even allowed me to live out my childhood dream and paint the room. Although it’s not lilac, it is a beautiful aqua blue that helped me to fulfill my childhood dream. I have a bed with floral bedding, a window with natural lighting from the sun, and a desk to write.

Sometimes our ‘One Day’ stories look different than how we imagined them. Sometimes they’re far from what we dreamed, and sometimes they’re more wonderful than we ever could have imagined.

I’m still a dreamer to this day. I’m a visionary and see big things continuing to happen in my life. I also find myself in a space much like I experienced in 2014/2015. This year I’ve gone through waves of depression. Some days I’m feeling on top of the world while other days I feel like shutting the world out. Today was one of those days. I woke up with a bad headache and gave myself permission to binge-watch Netflix and stay in bed. I finally pulled myself out of bed around 4:00. I had a good cry, turned on Lauren Daigle, made a cup of tea and took a hot bath. The difference with where I am now vs. where I was 5.5 years ago is my ability to own and shift where I am. I’ve learned to embrace the dark spaces because I know the light will come again. I can accept my ‘One Day’ stories when I’m in dream mode and sit with my ‘Everything is Wrong’ filter when I’m feeling in the depths of my own despair.

I also spent an hour in meditation today and time journaling. The card I pulled fits perfectly with where I am and serves as a reminder that “This Too Shall Pass”.

If you have been wondering about your life path or whether you should take action on a project or you need inspiration to really move you out of a slump you have fallen into, then this oracle brings you a message of hope. You will receive your vision. You will be graced with a way out of stagnancy. You will be able to see things differently and more accurately. Any confusion or uncertainty you have felt is going to pass and you will be left with clear insight. The stories you have been feeling, feeding yourself or telling yourself may end up looking different to how they appear now. This may surprise you, but the vision that is coming to you will be more truthful and therefore freeing. It will be worth the shock, surprise or the moment of embarrassment when you realize you have been operating under a false assurance or deluding yourself about the truth of a situation. Those moments will pass and they are not something to feel bad about. They signify that you are leaving behind a smaller view for a more expansive one. They are a sign that you have outgrown your old vision in order to live in a bigger one. This is good! There might be a moment when your ego feels a bit dented, but sure enough that too will pass. - Visions of Life Beyond Death, Sacred Rebels Oracle

If you find yourself in a similar space or notice that you keep having ‘One Day’ dreams, take heart. Allow yourself to dig deeper and ask yourself, “What is really at the core of my ‘One Day’ story? What is it that my heart really wants? Why do I believe that it’s never going to happen?” Give yourself the time and space to search your heart for answers, and ask for guidance.

And if you find that you don’t know where to start or would like additional support, reach out to me. Together we can ask the questions that your heart wants to know and receive the answers that are hiding within. Schedule a Deep Clarity Session today.

#vulnerability #one day #live your dreams #truth