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tsuumu · 4 years

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bokuto and oikawa with an s/o who sings and dances.

hi, anon! thank you so much, i hope your day was just as wonderful! sorry this took a tad longer to write, i’ve been dealing with some health issues but writing this cheered me up a lot. i hope you like it!

bokuto koutarou:

• this came as a huge surprise to him. like: slap-in-the-face-in-a-good-way type of surprise.

• this was by pure accident. bokuto had come over to your apartment to surprise you, since his schedule had meant you two hadn’t spent much time together as of late. since you’ve been together for quite some time, he has his own key. he thought nothing of it, letting himself in quietly.

• what he didn’t expect though, was to hear his seemimgly quiet, timid s/o belting out lyrics in the shower. the sound of your voice mixed with the falling water left him standing there, absolutely stunned.

• he blinked, rubbed his eyes, before pressing his ear to the doorframe. yeah, there’s no mistaking it. that was you.

• bokuto proceeds to barge in on you, still showering, armed to the teeth with questions. you end up screaming even louder than you were singing.

• “you CAN’T just come in unannounced. jesus. i think i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“well you can’t just hide the fact that you can sing like that! we’re even!”

• so you end up having to explain to your boyfriend -butt-ass naked- that you’d been in theatre since a very young age. he’s listening with literal stars in his eyes, awed by your exceptional ability.

• he will undoubtedly ask you to tell him all of your experiences and things you’ve done throughout your time in theatre. this is vital information that helps him understand you better.

• at-home affairs will consist of him and you singing your hearts out whilst doing things like cooking and cleaning. bokuto is surprisingly not so bad himself, though he’s nowhere near your level. (he laments over this as he wants to be able to hit the notes you can so easily)

• he’d definitely ask you to sing him to sleep because it comforts him greatly, head resting on your chest, curled up with you. i’m not crying

• he’s CONVINCED it’s super romantic to slow dance with you in the middle of your studio apartment at like 2am. that’s not even your area of expertise when it comes to dancing but hey, he holds you like he’s holding the most valueable this in the world, so it’s perfect.

• for some reason, bokuto has made up his mind that you’re that one main girl from ‘black swan’, so his new nickname for you is ‘swan’. you think it’s cute??? you’re not sure, but he loves it.

oikawa tooru:

• this boy is naturally talented at singing and nobody can tell me otherwise.

• you first caught him humming and mumbling a little tune or two whilst he’s running his errands and trust you to know a good singer when you hear one.

• as your time together progresses, he definitely sings to you playfully as a dramatic declaration of love. he’s definitely tried to embarrass you in public by (in his words) romantically serenading you. he’s earned many punches on the arm throughout your relationship.

• you never really talked much about your own musical abilities, until he eggs you to go with him to a karaoke place one day. you’d could hardly refuse with the amount of shameless begging tooru did. so, he drags you by arm with full force.

• he has his own share of fun, singing like crazy and making you laugh until your sides hurt. he didn’t really know what to expect when handing you the microphone. you pick a slow song, much different to his selection. the countdown plays on the screen and it’s like oikawa has entered the gates of heaven (again, his words).

• the seijoh captain is literally dumbfounded???? a small, nervous twist in your stomach arises when you see how genuinely shocked he is, you’re eventually unable to finish the song because you get really shy.

• he lowkey thought he was the talented one in the relationship. shut up, loser

“no! please carry on, oh my god. i don’t know what i’d do if i didn’t hear you sing the end.”

“but tooru—“

“(y/n)...” he pouts.

• god. it’s that pout. the one you can’t refuse. so you do and as you finish, he picks you up and spins you around with a flourish.

“seriously! you’re unreal! what else are you hiding up your sleeve?”

• after you’ve both calmed down, you tell him all about your threatre skills and he’s even more invested. suddenly it’s discovering a whole new world with you.

• oikawa asks begs you politely to teach him. let’s just say he is considerably less naturally talented at dance. his vain attempts to keep up with you make you laugh even harder than before. he doesn’t give up though. he’s determined to beat you.

• tooru tells anybody who will listen about his s/o’s theatric abilities. he’ll tell them again and again because he loves to show off how skilled you are. that’s his baby!

• asks if you guys can sing a duet at your (very non existent) wedding. you’re like ??? but he’s dead set on it. he wants a fairy tale experience.

• also proposes that when you two get into arguments, that you should have a sing-off and whoever wins takes the entire argument. you have to explain to him that that just wouldn’t work for all incidents. he’s genuinely confused as to why not.

• probably mutters that if he was blessed with the ability to dance like you, he could’ve become a famous, japanese idol. sure, baby, sure.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto headcanons #bokuto x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa x reader #HAHA THIS WAS SO CUTE TO WRITE #sorry it was so late :((#haikyuu

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umbry-fic · 3 years

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kakurenbo

Summary:

"How do you always find me?" Colette would ask every time, pouting.

"Because I'm the best seeker around for miles!" Lloyd would declare, grinning.

Their disastrous first game of hide-and-seek, and a promise made between children.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Genis Sage Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Genis Sage Rating: G Word Count: 2565 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 27/09/2021

Notes: A short fluffy fic about hide-and-seek, featuring a lot of kids being kids!

~~~

Their first game of hide-and-seek, when Colette was eleven, was… something of a disaster. Even that was something of an understatement, considering the situation she found herself in now - shivering and alone.

Lloyd was the one to introduce it, like always, this game where one person covered their eyes and everyone else ran around like headless chickens. He was the one that coaxed her and Genis into trying out the games that they were all no stranger to - having spent many years peering out the window at the other children, caught in the middle of merriment - but had never experienced for themselves. He would clamour on about whatever exciting game had caught his interest at the moment, gesturing wildly, infectious energy spreading from him. So much, that even Genis couldn’t help but succumb, leading the three of them to make plans in hushed whispers during class, always in danger of getting an earful from Professor Raine but revelling in the thrill of it.

And then they would carry out their plans, clumsily, but always with childish exuberance flooding the air. Giggles bubbling from her chest while Lloyd grinned, Genis letting out a laugh of his own. It would end in disaster half the time - things just had a tendency to go awry when it was the three of them - sometimes burying them head-to-toe in mud, sometimes completely drenching them, and sometimes leaving them covered in tiny scratches and bruises, though they were never happier.

They never learned their lesson. Because they did it, over and over again, her and Genis always following Lloyd’s lead. It was so easy to fall into step behind him, to trust in him to bring them on fantastical adventures full of joy and wonder, that they had once barely known. Like he was a captain, leading his measly, but very enthusiastic crew, onwards with large, confident steps.

Which led to them starting an ill-advised game of hide-and-seek in front of Dirk’s house in the late afternoon after school, each one of them raring to win. Even the usually reserved Genis was bouncing on the balls of his feet, a competitive fire burning in his eyes. The matter of setting boundaries, one of the most important parts of hide-and-seek, had slipped their minds completely. Or perhaps it had never occurred to them at all, three children utterly lost in the heat of the moment.

The games their classmates played were always confined to the school grounds, the insistent ringing of the bell by Professor Raine a sign to stop or face her wrath.

Out here, there was no indicator for the game to end, no barrier as to how far they could wander. They could go on forever if they wished to, until they disappeared beyond the edge of the forest, perhaps even past the edge of the world.

And that was how Colette came to be sitting here, in this log that acted as her hiding spot, for the past two hours.

She’d been confident that no one would find her here - this massive log hollowed out by rot that she had only found by complete accident, tripping and tumbling head-first into this space on one of the days that she’d wandered into the fringes of the forest to get away from everything. She’d sat up rubbing her head, hoping there wouldn’t be a bump arising in the next few hours - only to find that she couldn’t see past the entrance of the log, wreathed in deep green, the overgrown leaves hiding her away from the world. Crawling out had revealed that the entrance was completely obscured, nigh invisible to someone who didn’t already know it was there.

It had become her go-to spot, when she just needed to be alone, to bury her face in her knees, let the weight of everything press down fully and leave her in the form of sobs that wracked her shoulders, her back trembling, here where no one could hear her.

Past the river, turning right at the stone that resembled Noishe, pushing past the branches that scratched at her skin.

The same path she had followed as Lloyd had bellowed out the countdown, hands cupped over his mouth and voice audible even through the denseness of the forest.

She’d sat here, relaxed with her legs stretched out before her, feeling ever so proud of herself. Her first game of hide-and-seek, and she would be clinching the victory!

That certainty had given way to doubt as time continued its inexorable march, each second almost tangible as Colette struggled to keep track of them. It felt like they were all piling atop each other, her mind sluggish as her eyelids grew heavy. The cold wasn’t helping matters - the morning had certainly started off more chilly than usual, but it hadn’t been this bad. The temperature must have plunged since she’d gotten here, and it was enough to make her huddle her knees close to her chest, rubbing her hands together as she shivered.

She knew she’d been here for too long, but she didn’t want to leave, an uncharacteristic stubbornness gripping her. It wasn’t fair that she was the one who had to leave and risk getting tagged! That would mean immediate defeat!

It wasn't fair... But nothing was fair...

No, she would stay here, she decided, clinging on to the idea of victory, of winning the bet that she’d made with Lloyd. She would be the one to snack on the last of Grandma’s odd number of baked cookies! No more would she have to duel Lloyd for the rights to it, a duel that usually ended with the two of them rolling across the ground, each aiming to subdue the other with tickles. The victorious would get to experience a delightful sweetness that melted in the mouth, while the loser had to watch the final mouth-watering cookie disappear.

She would spare herself the trouble this weekend by deciding things, here and now.

The heaviness continued to press on her, however, no amount of painting imaginary scenes of playful dogs on the walls keeping it away. The darkness claimed her not soon after, head falling slack against the wood behind her.

~~~

She awoke with a violent sneeze, the shivers returning in full force as she wrapped her arms around herself.

She registered a thudding sound overhead, and glanced up with bleary eyes. It appeared that sometime during her sleep, the heavens had opened up. It would certainly explain why it was so cold.

The roof appeared to be leak-free, thankfully, though there was a shallow layer of water filling the bottom of the log, even more slowly seeping in through the entrance. The bottom of her white robes was submerged, and she knew they’d be heavy if she attempted to stand, water falling off her in rivulets.

Colette had to concede by now that staying in here wasn't as comfortable as she'd once thought it would be, her legs starting to cramp from being squeezed in this position for so long.

Where were Genis and Lloyd? Was Genis still hiding, or had he been found? And what about Lloyd? Was he still running around everywhere, poking his head in every nook and cranny, peeking around every corner, trying his very best to find her?

Or had he given up entirely?

That last thought sent something dark crawling into her heart. And no matter how much she told herself that it was just a stupid fear her tired mind was conjuring up, for she knew she wouldn't be stuck in here forever, knew that she would most certainly be seeing her friends again... It was futile. The cold could only spread, a cold deeper than the shivers she currently felt.

She was alone here. Alone, in a way she hadn't been for a long time. She hadn't realised, just how much she would miss the company of her friends when they weren't by her side.

Was this what it would feel like, once she left everyone behind? She would be all alone then too. Where no one could see her, or hear her, or even know where she was... Where the only thing she knew would be silence, eating away at her...

She buried her face in her knees, but there were no tears this time. She was too tired to move, and it felt like she was gradually becoming as motionless as the wood that surrounded her.

Slowly rotting…

The rustling of leaves at the entrance gained her attention, her head raising as she realised that the thudding had grown significantly softer in the time that had passed.

She watched, as slowly, a hand poked through the curtain of green, followed by a familiar head of brown hair, and then the entire body of a boy, tumbling to a stop before her. It was almost strange to gaze upon a human again after not seeing one in so long, but it was just Lloyd. Familiar old Lloyd, if a very drenched Lloyd, hair falling into his eyes and clothes two shades darker than usual.

"I finally found you! Wow, this is a good hiding spot," Lloyd said in a whisper as he picked himself off the floor, unwilling to talk loudly in the sacred confines of the log. Only to bang his head against the top of it, letting out a little squeak as he quickly sat down, rubbing his head sheepishly.

"It's my private little spot," she whispered back, smiling at Lloyd’s antics. The words felt a little foreign in her ears after such a long period of silence, but it felt good, to finally say something. To hear her voice again.

"Oh! Sorry for intruding..." The tip of Lloyd’s ears flushed a little red, his expression shifting minutely. Why, she didn’t know.

She only knew that it made giggles burst out of her, the strange misery that had been filling her chest vacating instantly like it had never been there, the hole it left behind filled with that bright happiness she always felt in Lloyd's presence. "Don't be silly, Lloyd. I'm glad you found me.”

I was starting to think you never would…

"I'm glad I found you too! I promise, I'll always find you!" Lloyd declared with a confident grin, his hand grabbing hers. And despite the droplets of water rolling down his hand - for he must have been looking for her even in the heavy rain - his fingers were so, so warm. She couldn’t help but grip onto his hand tightly, letting the ever-present warmth he exuded chase away the cold biting into her bones, let it stop the shivers, even if for just this moment.

“Now, let’s go home,” he said gently, leading her out into the open, the word “home” echoing in her heart. Always leading her, with her hand in his. It was how she knew she was safe.

In the outside that she’d nearly forgotten existed, rainwater dripped from leaves, creating an almost mini-shower that landed on her face and made her blink.

“Where’s Genis?”

“Oh, he was hiding by the riverside. I found him pretty quickly! He’s gone home. But, uh,” Lloyd muttered, averting his gaze. “Your father’s here. You’ve been gone for quite a while.”

“I see…” she murmured, head bowing.

Father would no doubt scold her harshly once she got home. The Chosen wasn’t supposed to partake in such frivolous activities, not least ones that endangered her. Such irresponsible behaviour wouldn’t be easily forgiven by the Church.

“It is my fault for not setting a time limit! Dad’s hammered that into my head already, so I can just tell your father that!”

“No, it’s fine,” Colette replied, shaking her head. “Thank you, but I was the one who decided to stay in there for so long.” She couldn’t even explain it now, why the need to do so had been so strong, so insistent. It had been a foolish thing to do.

Some strange act of defiance, nothing more than a childish impulse - the kind not allowed of the Chosen.

“Hey, it’s not that serious!” Lloyd retorted, chasing away her thoughts as the two of them fell into a playful argument that lasted until they left the darkness of the forest and stepped back into the dim light of the evening, washing the world in a coat of warm orange and pink.

Most people would label this a terrible experience. One that ended in Father berating her, and both her and Lloyd falling victim to a terrible cold, as Genis lamented having gone along with everything.

Yet she cherished it anyway. The aftermath wasn’t all bad, after all. Lloyd had recovered first, and spent the days where she remained on bedrest sitting by her bedside, feeding her cookie after cookie, taking none for himself. “A treat,” he exclaimed, waving another cookie in the air and dropping crumbs everywhere as she alternated between sneezing and laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

And she couldn’t help but paint the promise Lloyd had made into vivid memory, memorise the warmth of his hand.

Though she never did figure out how he found her.

The answer to that question continued to elude her in future hide-and-seek games, where Lloyd never failed to sniff out her hiding place, no matter how hard she tried. Scarily fast too. Maybe he just possessed a good eye?

In response to her grumbling and pouting, he would only grin. And declare, “Because I'm the best seeker around for miles!"

He never made mention of the promise he’d made her. To him, surely it must have been nothing more than a trivial turn of phrase, not to be taken seriously and easily forgotten.

That was alright. It was enough for only her to remember, and to continue having fun with her friends, in the time she still had left.

~~~

"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around Lloyd, glad to feel his warmth again after weeks of empty coldness. "For... finding me."

How strange of her, to put it that way. What Lloyd had done was tirelessly work to restore her soul, to let her take control of her body again instead of being locked behind a thousand chains. But it truly felt like he had reached into the darkness and found her, pulled her out into the light.

Just as he’d done when they were little children still filled with naive hope, in the hollow of a log. And countless times after. Always leading her, back into safety, back into the world, back home. Sometimes playfully, sometimes desperately, but always, always ensuring he never let go.

She felt Lloyd's laughter reverberate through her, shaky but full of joy.

"I promised, didn't I? That I would always find you."

How silly, she thought, burying her face in his chest as laughter shook her shoulders as well. How silly that he would still remember such a trivial little promise. How silly of the both of them. Like it meant the world to him in the same way it did to her.

His hands resting on her back, he pulled her closer, and she could not be any more at peace.

Here, where she was safe in his arms. Here, where hope still shined strong, and childish joy still thrived.

Here, where she never needed to hide, and so would never be lost again.

#fanfiction #one shot #tales of symphonia #colette brunel #lloyd irving #genis sage #yeah this is a lot of posts at once #but today has been emotionally draining #and this is just something nice to do

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trarioven · 3 years

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Tales of Arise countdown project ></ ( link >> https://twitter.com/TOArise_CD )

Just in few days, Tales of Arise will come and will bring us a new tale, about the man who can’t feel pain Alphen and the girl cursed with ability to bring pain to those who touch her, Shionne. Together, the two will embark on a journey to search for a new future.

I really want to play but don’t have any console Q_Q So i quess i will just watch some let’s play at youtube sob.

#tales of arise #toa #tales of series #alphen #shionne #tales of arise alphen #tales of arise shionne #tales of arise law #tales of arise kisara #tales of arise dohalim #trariovenart

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disgraced-doctor-junkenstein · 5 years

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Response to Like/reblog for a nightmare with our muses @thejunkersupport Title: It’s The Final Countdown!

A needle is dropped onto an ebony record. At first the only noise is a soft scratch but soon a melody begins to pour out from the tarnished antique bell. It’s a song without any words but the feeling it gives off is soothing in nature. A rare treat in Junkertown given how everyone tended to act on edge, lashing out, puffing their chest to seem intimidating. Relaxing is generally thought of just sitting in the bar with a lukewarm beer surrounded by bogans. But that’s nothing compared to actually just sitting down, away from the chaos, just trying to think without it being laced with the constant bombardment of fight or flight buzzing in the background. “Lust zu tanzen?” A voice asks from behind. Bombette turns to see a man she’s never meet before but shares a striking resemblance to another junker, Junkrat. A metallic hand held out and while she did not understand what was said exactly it was apparent the man wanted to dance. Without thinking, Bombette took the offer and was soon pulled in close. The stranger’s gloved hand finding it’s way to her waist. Together they start to dance. Everything is slow and sweet. The music, the dancing, the moment cozy in of itself even as the junker tries to place just who it is that is leading her around the room. There is something familiar about him. Yes, there is the resemblance but there is something else. While she personally does not know him, she feels as if they have crossed paths before. Never formally introduced but it’s a strong feeling she just can’t shake. “You dance beautifully,” he praises. He raises his arm and twirls Bombette around, three rotations, but the two times she glimpses the scientist (What else could he possibly be?) she swears his smile is warped with malice. His eyes glowing like a predator in the night. It is with the last rotation that he pulls her back in and they pick up where they left off. His eyes aren’t glowing like she though but they are unusual. Amber with red pupils but he disarms her with a broad smile and kind words. “I’ve seen some of your work. It’s impressive.” There is a moment of quiet. The tempo is starting to pick up and the only noise in the area as the waltz continues. The background suddenly snaps from the warm hues of once sun baked metal marbled with light rust to that of a deep plum hue streaked with black. They are still dancing even as the floor falls away, caught in a drift like a leaf in a crisp autumn breeze. “You’re wasting it here though.” The man’s hold on her tightens seconds before Bombette attempts to pull away. “These people don’t appreciate you like they should. You help them and all for what? For them to squander it so callously,” he spits. “You can do so much more. Be so much more.” The hold on her is too tight, bruising in it’s rough nature. Junkers, the ones that made it this far, however, are quick to act on impulse when a situation like this would arise. A heavy boot stomping down though struck nothing. It is then she realizes that like his counterpart, this man is also missing his right foot. Immediately she goes for the other- Everything goes black as ink. Bombette is free falling into the void. There is nothing but the vast expanse all around but gravity is still in play. She is plummeting, nearly drowning in the immeasurable barren landscape, arms pinwheeling while she tumbles downward. It’s getting colder, freezing really, to the point it starts to burn. Her breath is caught, lungs unable to draw in air when at last there is color. Gasping, Bombette is clawing herself onward to find that she is in a grave. Damp soil expelling from her mouth in a coughing fit. It’s all over her form as she pulls herself halfway out. “All that hard work only to end up paying the price. Was hardly worth it, right?” With one hand the scientist adjusts his goggles. His other is grabbing Bombette’s wrist but when she goes to pull away she freezes. Her arms are wrapped with linen and areas were the wrappings are sparse, she can tell her skin is tinted blue. It is in her confusion and horror that she is pulled free from her plot. “But that won’t matter any more.” A thousand questions begin to bubble up all at once, the words themselves never being uttered, as if they were just overlapping and drowning one another out. Instead there is a sickening gasp. “Shhh... Save your questions for the daytime, my dear. We really must get you home.” The strange man chuckles as if it’s all a joke. Soon his flesh starts to crackle like porcelain. Pale flesh now white as a sheet as it begins to fall off in chunks leaving behind muscle and sinew, all of which rapidly rot. Vibrant pinks scaling to a sickly peach then black. It curls in on itself, shriveling up and falling away with the ceramic flesh now leaving nothing but ivory bones and lidless eyes. Just behind the gruesome sight appears another figure. The royal hued smoke rolling away as the form became more clear. A woman dressed as a witch but beautiful unlike the hags often portrayed in fairy tales. It is with a sweet smile that the witch looks Bombette over, everything about her inviting except for the look behind those piercing blue eyes. “Are you certain she is the one?” “Oh yes.” Glowing eyes rolled around behind the blue tinted goggles. Perhaps they were the only thing keeping them from falling out and rolling away. “The similarities are uncanny!” “Show me, Junkenstein.” The witch ordered in a purr. It was with that command that the man, this Junkenstein, reached into his side bag and pulled out a canning jar. Within the clear glass bounced and hummed a vibrant ball of neon purple light. “Her soul is nearly identical to this one. This has to be her sister!” Bombette couldn’t move. The sense of dread overwhelming as things began to click in some places but eluded her in others. Was that- Where they suggesting- That light was a soul? Not just any soul but her missing sister’s? “Then I propose a trade.” Slider fingers moved to carefully turn Bombette’s attention to herself, away form the jittery trapped soul. “Serve me and I will restore to you your precious Samantha. Deny me and well...” “I’ll feed it to the Reaper,” Junkenstein finished with a titter. His teeth nearly chattering without the flesh to give them any cushion. “It’s really not so bad,” Junkenstein decided to tack on suddenly. “Once you get used to the pain, being undying is really for the best if you think about it. All that extra time and the people you could help who actually deserve it.” “You have three seconds.” The humming in the jar grew in volume. The soul striking against the glass trying to get free. “Three,” the countdown from the witch began. Junkenstein moved one hand over the top of the lid to insure it stayed sealed. The container rattling violently in his grasp. “...Two...” The hum melting into an intense pitch like florescent lighting about to give out. Samantha’s soul practically screaming though Bombette had not idea if it was a warning or plea. “Take the deal,” Junkenstein insisted. “You’ll be reunited! Do it!” “...One.” The witch’s smile morphing into a scowl. Thick clouds rolling in out of the dark and lightning crackled in the dark silvery blanket above. “I see.” With a snap of her fingers, the linen cloth wrapped around the junker’s form tightened, constricting all around her, choking the air from her lungs once more and nullifying her movement. “Feed my servant.” “But-” “Now,” the witch cutoff. The skeletal man stepping back with a grunt as lightning crashed down, filling the area with a blinding light that took time to fade. In the middle of everyone now stood another with a pumpkin where his head should be. Eyes and mouth aglow with candlelight. Desperate pleas bubbling up as thick green vines erupted from the soil, weaving their way up Bombette’s legs, still climbing and tightening on top of the mummy like wrappings,yanking downward and sinking the junker slowly into the ground. The Reaper snatching the jar from the other man, twisting the lid and fishing out the angry soul now holding it up like a delicate treat. The ground was claiming her again, Bombette struggling with no avail, sinking deeper in as vines still crept higher, tighter. Eye wide in horror as the neon light was engulfed, snuffed out like a flame with a sickening squish of a swallow. Bombette’s vision fading by the second but before all was lost, stepping forward to be the last sight was the one the witch called Junkenstein. His exposed skull now starting to spill with blackened blood. “Such a waste...”

#thejunkersupport #Nightmare #Welp... Hope you enjoy it!#Sorry I took so long!#Was trying to come up with something that was different from the other two but still kind of similar #Changling of heart

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internationalhouseofblupjeans · 6 years

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An Eighth Bird, Born Out of the Storm - Chapter 9

(Kinda got behind on updating this on tumblr so these are going to get posted rapid-fire lol)

Based loosely on the Luume'irma headcanon from @interstellarvagabond

Lup and Taako get their decennial “visitor” just before the fateful trip on the Starblaster. Taako holes up in his room, meditating away the discomfort while Lup discovers a partner for the week. Unforeseen consequences arise. Bonds are created. An eighth bird rises.

Eighth Bird AU.

Barry thinks about the future. Taako has a nightmare.

Thank you to Calcu from the writer’s chat for Beta'ing!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 below Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22

Elven pregnancies start with similar symptoms to those of other humanoid species. The elf in question will experience nausea and loss of appetite, as well as occasional cramping when implantation occurs. Odd cravings can occur, and elves are especially prone to pica. Many elves with non-elven partners have experienced tension in their relationships due to this. Be careful to not allow poisonous non-food items to be consumed. On occasion, elves have been reported to crave blood, though this may just be an old wives tale.

Elves can also become more withdrawn in their first and fourth quarters of their pregnancies. They are also known to have heightened senses and can be more defensive during the first quarter. Do not mistake this defensiveness for aggressiveness.

Pregnancies that occurred from the union between an elf and a human can lead to more dramatic versions of common symptoms.

- What to Expect When You’re an Expectant Elf

He couldn’t sleep.

He had left Lup, asleep, in their bed, carefully shrugging on a pair of pajama bottoms (he would prefer to not get caught in his boxers again), before heading up to the deck of the Starblaster.

The realization had fully hit him during the fiftieth cycle. He had seen a couple on the street. An elderly human woman and her elven wife were walking down the road, the elf helping her along. His heart broke for the elf. She looked youthful and spirited, but her human partner was not going to be around for much longer. He tried to shake the image from his mind at the time, but seeing the elf, alone, a few months later had cemented it.

This was Lup’s future.

This was his child’s future.

How long would his child have both of their parents? Forty years? Thirty? There was no way he was going to make it to see one hundred years.

Sure, his child would be able to start being on their own by the time he died, but he would just be a flicker in his child’s life.

And Lup … she loved so deeply that he didn’t know if she would survive losing him.

He didn’t know how many more cycles he had with her. How many more until he started aging again?

How many more until each birthday would be a countdown to heartbreak.?

He paced on the deck. He couldn’t let her know that this was bothering him.

He couldn’t let her think that this was somehow her fault.

He watched as the first light started to dawn. He still had trouble getting used to the lack of a binary solar system. Lup would probably wake up in an hour, but he wanted to spend some of that time holding her.

He made his way back down to his room and shrugged off his pajama bottoms, crawling into bed next to her. He felt her push herself into his arms, a soft sigh escaping her lips. He kissed her neck and closed his eyes, pressing his face into her dark hair.

He wished he could stay in this moment forever.

Magnus had not expected Taako to knock on the door late in the night.

This particular world had been calm with no sentient life to speak of. On warm nights, bioluminescent insects would swarm up into the skies, dazzling the crew with their brilliant displays - or as Merle unhelpfully called it, the “bug orgy”.

Magnus was therefore surprised when Taako came into his room, his eyes darting around in fear.

“What’s up, Taako?” Magnus asked, starting to sit up.

“I … I need to get out of my room. Too many nightmares in that bed. I can’t sleep …”

Magnus scooted over, letting Taako crawl onto the bed next to him. Magnus expected Taako to just lay off to the side.

Instead, the elf wrapped his arms around Magnus’ torso and buried his face in his chest.

It wasn’t very long before Magnus felt the tears.

He had known Taako long enough not to say anything. Instead, he gently stroked the elf’s hair, occasionally stopping to scratch behind one of his ears. He felt Taako calm down somewhat and looked down at him. Taako refused to meet Magnus’ eyes, but he spoke anyway.

“She … She was gone, Mags. Not like thirty years ago. She was gone. Forever. And no one cared! And … And I couldn’t stop her … Mags .. I can’t do this … What if she dies and she doesn’t come back? What if any of you die and don’t come back? I can’t …”

Taako sobbed again and Magnus pulled him in closer.

He knew he was one of two people alive who had ever seen Taako like this.

The other one was asleep in her room, he knew. He almost wanted to get her, to have her help comfort Taako.

But he had to admit to himself that he was selfish. He loved being able to have these moments with Taako. Where Taako could be himself. Where Magnus could see the side that was underneath the carefully crafted persona.

Taako fell asleep in Magnus’ arms and Magnus pulled him in as close as he could.

When he was younger, his mother and father made him sleep with a weighted blanket. Having had traumatic experiences in his early childhood had led to many a sleepless night, but the weight let him sleep comfortably.

He would be the weighted blanket for Taako.

He would protect him as long as he was able to.

Davenport was alone.

Again.

He wanted Merle to stop.

He wanted him to stay.

He sighed and poured himself a glass of brandy. Taako had pilfered it off of one of their first worlds, but he had been savoring it, knowing that they would never have this bottle again.

He could have poured Merle a glass, if he hadn’t …

He sighed and downed the glass. There was still a sizeable amount left. He had to keep himself from drinking all of it.

A soft knock on the door almost caused him to drop the decanter.

“Captain Davenport, sir? May I come in?” he hear Lucretia’s soft voice ask. “Of course!” he called, setting down his decanter as the door opened.

Everything about Lucretia was quiet. Everything about her was small and unobtrusive.

She had only been in her twenties when this mission started. Only a child, in Davenport’s eyes, yet to a human, she was expected to be an adult. He had watched her, even when she thought no one noticed, and saw how careful she was. She had only died once on their entire journey, having fallen while chronicling. She still would leave the ship, but she was cautious.

Always cautious.

“I erm … I have a report from Lup and Barry on the Light of Creation, if you would like to see it, sir.”

He smiled.

“Lucy, it’s been sixty-four years. You can call me Davenport. No need to call me ‘sir’.”

She blushed, embarrassed, and nodded.

“Erm … Yes, well s-Davenport … Um … Barry and Lup have a couple of theories with the Light. That it is something that is easily craved. They subjected it to a couple tests during the last cycle and I have the results here. I guess we'll have more if Magnus and Taako can find it this cycle but … yeah …”

She handed Davenport her journal and he looked down at it and set it off to the side.

“Lucy, tell me about yourself,” Davenport started.

“Sir?”

“I've never taken the time to ask and … well, I'm fixing that.”

Lucretia stammered for a moment and then took a deep breath.

“I … I came from a really poor family,” she began. “I was the only one to make it to university. I … I faked my age when I joined the IPRE,” she chuckled. “The application said the age requirement was twenty one. I didn't turn twenty one for another month so … I'm glad I did it,” she blushed, ducking her head

“As am I.”

“I had a girlfriend …”

“Oh …”

“Yeah … I … didn't tell anyone. I mean, we weren't that serious yet but …”

Davenport nodded, sympathetically.

Other than the twins, he hadn't left anyone.

Instead, someone always left him …

“What about you?” Lucretia asked. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you …”

Davenport smiled sadly.

“This has been my life,” he sighed. “I’ve been a member of the IPRE as long as it has been around. I’ve been working on this ship … this engine for years. This mission has been my life. I’m … I’m kind of afraid of what’s going to happen when we finally get home - if we finally get home. I want to believe that there will be another mission. That there will be a home to go back to but … Even if we find a place - a safe place, away from the hunger, I don’t know what I’ll even do. I can’t just live in a quiet home with a white picket fence. Not now. Not after everything I’ve seen.”

Lucretia had been writing the entire time. Davenport wasn’t even sure where she had kept the journal - perhaps it was a magic that only Lucretia possessed, but he was relieved to get it out.

To tell someone.

Because Lucretia would keep his thoughts safe.

Home was gone.

Parents, family, matriarch … all gone.

The world was confined to this strange cave. This strange, silver cave.

The man was kind and visited often, but he wasn’t family.

The woman watched and wrote and fed them but … she wasn’t family either.

Where were the others? What had happened to them?

They missed them.

They missed their home.

They ate devoured the stories the were fed and shared them with their companions. That’s what they were right?

They couldn’t be family.

They were not like them.

The man who made ducks often told them what happened, but they couldn’t understand. They had never experienced anything like this.

They missed their home.

So they sang.

Magnus and Barry stood, back to back, as the Hunger’s army arrived.

Another planet lost.

The rest of the crew was safe on the ship, but they couldn’t make it in time. Magnus watched as Barry cast spell after spell, furiously. He tried to keep the army back, tried to keep the Hunger at bay.

The pair looked up for a moment to see the ship weave up and away.

Relief washed over them. Barry smiled up at the ship. He would see her soon.

He was about to cast again when he felt a sharp pain run through him. Magnus staggered back, his eyes wide in shock as Barry looked down.

A black tendril had impaled him.

Barry smiled at Magnus.

“Well, we’ll get ‘em next time …”

The strings of light took them away.

#blupjeans #taako #lup #barry bluejeans #taagnus

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rose-color-boy · 6 years

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Our Time Is None- Prologue

I remember the first time I noticed it.

The clock on my arm, well, in my arm would be more accurate. I suppose I had noticed it before, of course. But when I was three, I really noticed it, was curious about it. Oddly shaped, with a round shape on it. My toddler self had thought it weird, scratching at it, hitting it. I finally went to my mum, pointed at it, and asked, “What’s it?” Which is how I said, “What’s this?” or, “What’s that?” at the time.

“It’s a clock, Philly.”

“What’s it clock?”

My mum laughed a little. “A clock. Everyone has one, it’s okay.”

“Why?”

My mom picked me up. “Because. I’ll tell you when you’re older. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay.” When I was that young, I took my mum’s words as law, and so I didn’t worry.

A year and a half later, just before I started kindergarten, I asked my mum again while she was watching me play. “Mummy?”

“Yes, Phil?”

“What’s the clock for?”

My mum smiled, and sat down on the living room floor where I was playing. “It helps you find your soulmate.”

“Soulmate?”

“Yeah, like, the person you’ll marry someday.”

I thought for a second. “So, is Daddy your soulmate?”

“That’s right, Philly.”

“But how does it help?”

“Well, it’s like a countdown. It counts down to when you’ll meet your soulmate.”

“But mine doesn’t countdown.” I said, pointing to my watch. “It’s a 0.”

Mum gave me a hug. “Well, that’s okay. Some people have 0’s. Don’t worry about it.”

I looked over at Mum’s clock, which had a 0. That night when Dad came home from work, I peeked over at his clock, which also had a 0.

A few days later when my grandparents came to visit, I sneaked a look at their clocks, also having 0’s on them. Since we had just moved to be closer to family, I didn’t get the chance to look at the clocks of other kids. All I had were those of my family: grandparents, my two uncles, my parents. So I assumed that having a 0 was normal, that everyone had a 0 on their clocks.

That is, until I started school that Fall.

I was walked into my classroom by my parents, given a hug, and was told to have a good day. My teacher showed me to a cubby to put my backpack in, and told me to go draw with the other kids until class started. I smiled and walked over, ready to make new friends. That’s when I noticed something odd.

These other kids, they had numbers on their clocks. The numbers changing at different rates. I stared at the arm of the girl coloring next to me, before remembering that it’s not nice to stare, and I continued coloring.

Soon enough, class started, and I loved it from the beginning. But that didn’t last long.

At recess, a girl named Elise came up to me and pointed at my clock. “Why is there only a 0?”

I shrugged.

“That’s weird. I think there’s something wrong with you. Hey, Kaylie!” She yelled to her friend.

That’s when almost the entire class joined in laughing at me. Because I was different, I was weird. Except for one boy, tiny and quiet, who sat on a swing on the playground, watching with his big brown eyes.

I kept my chin up, though. I wouldn’t let them get to me.

But I also didn’t want to be a tattle-tale, so I took the laughter and the comments in silence for months. Until one day in class my teacher told us about our clocks, explaining to us what my mum had already told me, with just a little more detail.

“Everyone has a countdown, counting down to when you meet your soulmate. And you see that shape on your clocks?” Everyone looked down at their clocks. “Everyone’s is different, and when you meet your soulmate, your clocks will fit together, just like a puzzle.”

Elise raised her hand. “What if someone’s clock is at 0?” She asked, looking at me.

“Well, it either means that they’ve already met their soulmate. Or, it means that their soulmate has died.”

The room went silent, and everyone turned to look at me. I think in that moment, everyone felt bad for me. Then our teacher told us it was snack time, and everyone excitedly ate their snacks, comparing their clocks, trying to fit them together.

Except for one.

The same boy who had watched me from the swings that first day, who sat in front of me. I looked over his shoulder, to see the name tag on his desk, which read, “Dan.” I took a glimpse of his clock.

It also had a 0.

When Mum picked me up from school that day, I got into the backseat and stared out the window, not talking about my day like usual.

“Philly? Are you okay?”

“My soulmate’s dead.” I said, matter-of-factly.

“I- what?”

“My soulmate’s dead.” I repeated.

“Who told you that?”

“My teacher said so.”

There was nothing my mum could do, she couldn’t deny it, so we rode home, and I went to my room. Later that night I heard my mum talking to my dad.

“He’s only five! He doesn’t need to know that his soulmate’s dead, he’s too young to know! And we were supposed to tell him when he’s older. I can’t believe she told him! She said it was an accident, another student had asked, she didn’t know that he was a 0. But it crushed him! You should’ve seen him today, he was so sad, not like our normal, happy Phil.”

I didn’t listen after that. And we didn’t talk about it again.

When I was 12, I started getting curious again. One girl in my year had met her soulmate that day, so when I got home I asked my mum if we could talk.

“Sure, what’s do you need?”

“I have soulmate questions, Mum.”

My mum swallowed, looking nervous, as if she had been waiting for this. “What do you want to know, Phil?”

“So, I’m a zero.”

“Don’t use that term, Phil. It’s not nice.”

“But it’s what I am. Anyways. So, I’m a zero, which means I’ll never have a soulmate, but does that mean I can never date anyone? Or get married?”

“Well, you can. You know your uncles, they’re, well, soulmate-less.”

I thought for a second. “They’re zeroes? I didn’t know that.”

Mum smiled. “They are. See, you’re not alone. But if you are soulmate-less,”

“A zero, Mum.”

“A zero, you can still get married. A lot of zeroes will date other zeroes, get married. But, you just have to be careful about it. Because you haven’t been paired by fate, more difficulties in the relationship will arise than if you were paired as soulmates.”

I smiled at this, knowing that there was hope for me, one day maybe.

But my thoughts wondered to Dan, the kid in my kindergarten class, and I wondered if he knew.

#phan #phan fiction #phan angst #phanfiction #phandom #dan and phil #dan and phil fanfiction #phanfic #phanfic au #ty writes

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remainseatedatalltimes · 6 years

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Cinema Countdown: 2017 films in review

Well, it’s that time of the year again! Time for my once annual foray into blog writing with my yearly ranked list of all the films I saw in cinemas in 2017!

Before I get started, here’s some important safety information:

I know some of you (Haha…some…I wish. Hi mum!), have been so eagerly awaiting this list that you are currently likely to be seated too far forward on your seat. This is a safety risk. Whilst I understand your excitement levels may be bordering on fever pitched – please consider your safety and sit back farther in your chair. This will minimise the risk of chair toppling issues that may arise.

Secondly, please add the phone number (09) 4924 58352 to your address book. This is the number for a psychologist you should call in the event that you disagree with any of my views and rankings below. It’s important that you call this number if you feel such emotions as “anger”, “frustration”, or general opposition to any of the opinions listed below. Because like all things, these OPINIONS are SUBJECTIVE, and if you are unable to comprehend this and don’t have a reasonable rebuttal to offer as a counter opinion, then I believe giving a psychologist a call is a very good idea.

Now, with those very important safety messages out of the way – let’s get to the list!

And what better way to begin than by announcing that this year - for the first time in over 10 years - I finally saw a movie that was so stunning, so creative, and so…well…perfect, that I had little choice but award it 5 stars. That movie, is Disney-Pixar’s latest original blockbuster, Coco.

I can barely describe how awestruck I was, and continue to be, by this stunning piece of cinema. I think most people would agree that visually, Coco is simply breathtaking. The animation, scene design, and direction are second to none. Honestly, if you didn’t notice the direction on your first viewing, go back and watch it again, because the way the ‘camera’ moves is so seamless and engaging it’s easy to forget you’re watching an animated film. But then again, what else would you expect from a Pixar movie?

What really sets Coco apart for me however is that even after seeing the film 5 times (yes, I’ve seen it 5 times), I still cannot fault one thing about it. There is simply nothing I would change in this film. So whilst it might not be my favourite movie of all time – it’s not even my favourite Pixar movie of all time – it is however, faultless. And for that reason, Coco becomes the first movie in 10 years that I have awarded 5 stars to, as well as the unchallenged top honour of the best movie of 2017.

Other highlights of the year for me included a return to form for the Spiderman franchise with the utterly charming and hilarious Spiderman: Homecoming, the latest suspenseful and confronting effort from Christopher Nolan, Dunkirk, and the live-action opulent remake of that “Tale as Old as Time”, Beauty and the Beast.

At the other end of the spectrum, some of the more disappointing films of 2017 included the frustrating and dull Power Rangers, another misguided DC Comics effort, Justice League, and the conceptually interesting, but ultimately too polished and formulaic, Passengers.

But, for me, the biggest disappointments of 2017 were not the films that sit at the very bottom of this year’s list (I mean, let’s face it, no one really expected Power Rangers to be the number one film, did they?), but instead, were several of the films that sit firmly in that “rather average” 3-star rating range. This included the potentially exciting, but ultimately underwhelming weakest entry into the franchise to date, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales, and the far too over the top and splashy sequel to 2015’s surprise blockbuster hit, Kingsman: The Golden Circle.

But it’s the Hugh Jackman led movie musical spectacle, The Greatest Showman, which takes the illustrious honour of being my biggest disappointment of 2017. Now don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed The Greatest Showman – largely for its fun and energetic music and score – but the simple truth is, this film is a massive failure on multiple counts. The music is overproduced to a point where the vocals are not even synchronized to the lip movements of the cast as they sing them (this is basically musical 101), the characters are all half-baked and insipid, and the plot goes from one plot point to the next with no rhyme or reason.

But the biggest problem with The Greatest Showman is that as a movie that promotes itself as being a celebration of overcoming diversity and honouring who we are as an individual, it couldn’t be more misguided. By offering the films colourful “freak show” characters almost zero screen time – other than the show’s signature song “This Is Me” – which it also proceeds to ignore immediately after it’s sung, the film ultimately doesn’t seem to celebrate diversity at all. Instead, the central message is one of an ego driven entrepreneur who happens to use people to find success. Not very motivational to me.

And for those wondering why then would I give a movie 3-stars when I saw so many faults in it, I’ll leave you with this final thought: As an enormous fan of the musical genre, most musicals would probably start with at least a 1-star lead in advantage purely off the bat of my affinity with the genre as a whole. So with that taken into consideration, you may have a better idea of where The Greatest Showman may have ended up in the list if it wasn’t for the saving grace of its stunning soundtrack.

So if you are in fact looking for “The Greatest Show” of 2017, then head to the cinema right now and book your ticket to Disney-Pixar’s Coco - a film that truly stands for something that is worth shouting home about. You won’t be disappointed.

Until next year…

(By the way, please don’t call the psychologist number listed above as this is a fake number. I’ve completely made it up.)

#movies #film #best of 2017 #coco #movie list #movie review #best movies #movie rankings #top 10 #Movies of the Year #the year that was

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wealthwatch · 7 years

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What does wealth mean to you?

Background

A person might say “Why be rich? I just want be comfortable!” as a claim to not actively pursue the acquisition of assets. Comfort, as subjective as it is, implies that one’s needs are met without notable difficulty. The ability to meet one’s needs and the needs of loved ones in today’s World will require a toolkit that will create a shield against disaster and a sword against the threats to come. Nobody knows what tomorrow brings. Trouble generally doesn’t come with a countdown or a warning, thus it is prudent to build the fortress in peace time so when danger comes, everything is in place. The time of danger is not the proper scenario for building a fortress.

The Façade

Traditionally, expensive cars, fancy titles and big salaries are seen as career achievements in the Caribbean. Overall, a stronger income is important because it can be used to get more things done. However, regardless of size, a salary is merely the backdrop of any financial plan as it is merely a vehicle to be used to acquire tools that can produce value continuously on their own. These tools include a basic investment portfolio, personal savings, an emergency fund and adequate insurance, both health and life. Wealth truly isn’t about showing off or necessarily about riches but merely about freedom and having options. Wealth creation is not about attaining lifestyle perfection or recreating a scene from a Disney fairy tale but rather the ability to make one’s personal vision come to life and the ability to take action when things go wrong.

Clearing the dust

Conversely, a new BMW or Audi typically represents a car loan from a financial institution, which is a liability not an asset. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have nice things, this blog is definitely not socialist, but anything that doesn’t produce an income or value appreciation is not an asset. Young professionals should see a loan for what it is and avoid the hype if they want to make a sensible retirement plan a reality. Priorities can make or break one’s future plans so it’s essential to understand pace in one’s financial journey. We have all seen Olympic races which remind us that those who sprint in a marathon generally don’t finish. Deferred gratification is a core practice in creating anything meaningful to you. Consider that the average person reading this article begins school at age 3 and doesn’t finish until age 22. From kindergarten to college, education is a journey and so is one’s financial plan. There is neither a magic button nor a single secret to wealth, only a personal journey that is shaped by habits and choices made day in and day out.

Finally

Creating one’s wealth is not about flashy items, keeping up with others or proving people wrong but it is rather the beauty of having options, along with the freedom and ability to take action when one’s greatest needs and wants arise. Wealth is personal, attainable and becomes a reality by forming and maintaining the right habits with the assistance of licensed financial professionals.

#Wealth watch jamaica #WW #WWJA #What does wealth mean to you

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toarise-countdown · 3 years

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We are so lucky to have Aizmov_v2 back continuing his Arise set! Look forward to not one, not two, but EIGHT full days of these gorgeous illustrations. Gaze at that beautiful Shionne! The mix of flowers and bullets are too good 🌸

#tales #tales of #tales of series #tales of arise #toarise #tales of arise countdown #countdown #shionne #art #illustration #bandai namco

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cathysims1 · 4 years

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House Flipping Sob Stories

House Flipping Sob Stories:

Knowledge You Need

Apartments

Commercial

Flipping

Investing

Land

Leasing

Life

Office Investments

Owner User

Personal Finances

RE Calculations

Residential

Wealth Building

What you don’t see on many of the television shows about flipping houses are the many sad tales of promising flips gone wrong. These epic tales of house flipping sob stories are often precursors to financial hardships for quite some time as those who fail at their property flips work on recovering from their heavy losses and moving on with their lives. Some are hit harder than others but the snowball effect of a bad flip is often not even hinted out on the prime time televisions shows that are so proud of the many success stories that arise because of serious and studious efforts in the house flipping arena.

If you are planning to flip a house for a real estate investment you really need to take a step back and decide that you are absolutely not going to be one of the house flipping sob stories that are rumored about in Internet chat rooms. In fact, you want to be listed among the success stories. Unfortunately, that takes a great deal of proper planning that is almost never shown on these television shows. In fact, to put forth your best effort you need to devote as much time to studying and planning properties, prices, and home values in your area before you even begin to search for your first property to flip as you need to invest in the entire process of actually working on your first flip. In other words, months worth of planning need to go into your first property pick in order to lower the risk of failure and to greatly improve the odds of success.

The second thing you need to do when planning your first flip and avoiding a sad tale and a sob story is to be realistic and avoid great expectations. With your first flip, you are darned lucky to turn a profit at all. If you are expecting to make more money on your first flip than you made last year as a full-time employee you might need to make other plans. The first flip rarely goes as expected.

Third, you need to set aside at least twice as much money (preferably three times as much) as you think you will need for the work on the property in order to cover the actual costs that will be needed. There are inevitably tools, permits, supplies, and labor costs that wasn’t counted on in the initial budget figures as well as the tendency to seriously underestimate the cost of the materials that will be needed in order to get the job done. If you don’t have that much or can’t spend that much and walk away without a loss then the property you are considering might not be the best property for your first flip.

Finally, you need to plan everything. Every day needs to be fully planned before you show up to work on the property and you need to have all the materials you will need on hand from lunch to drinks, to tools and supplies. Trips to the hardware store, lunch breaks, and coffee run quickly kill a day and any productivity that may have been made during that day. Avoid these costly delays by proper planning and you will discover that you have a real estate investing success story worth writing home about.

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from https://www.perfectrealestateinvestments.com/house-flipping-sob-stories/ from https://perfectrealest.tumblr.com/post/623715933424402432 from https://bettychitwood0.blogspot.com/2020/07/house-flipping-sob-stories.html from https://bettychitwod0.tumblr.com/post/623721032223703040 from https://cathysims1.blogspot.com/2020/07/house-flipping-sob-stories.html

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quelpart · 5 years

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Dark Hour

Nadia de Vries' debut collection opens with the standard disclaimers: "These poems are a work of fiction.The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination". Yet what arises from the author’s imagination is a world of reclaimed fairy tales, a “technological sublime,” the fine arts rendered into the dark arts, and girlhood engineered as a contagion, insinuating itself into the sickly heart of the patriarchy to launch its fatal attack.

Dark Hour is a countdown in verse, to that moment when the author’s imagination reveals itself as our new reality, and during which we learn to fine-cut poetry into pocket knives and poison. May your fears become abundant like girls.

Link to the publisher’s website: https://www.dostoyevskywannabe.com/original/dark_hour

#currently reading #poetry #DarkHour #NadiadeVries #DostoyevskyWannabe

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bestnewsmag-blog · 7 years

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New Post has been published on Bestnewsmag

New Post has been published on https://bestnewsmag.com/michael-jones-will-get-a-life-term-for-killing-his-7-year-old-son/

Michael Jones will get a life term for killing his 7-year-old son

The Prodigal Son and Forgiveness

The parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:eleven-32) is one of the maxima discussed stories told by Jesus. A selection of interpretations was supplied which reflect the theological outlooks of various historic durations. Amy-Jill Levine, in her 2014 e-book Short stories by using Jesus, reviewed traditional Christian interpretations as she offered what might have been the response of a Jewish target audience inside the Galilee and Judea at the time of Jesus. In a 2005 ebook, Kenneth E. Bailey also discussed the Prodigal Son considering his revel in in Middle Eastern cultures. Each author has challenged earlier theological interpretations.

In general, Christian interpretations have said that God’s love is the primary theme of The parable. The easy story is presented as illustrating very theological issues. Augustine is an extreme consultant of “theologizing” by providing an allegorical view that turns the older brother into a Judaism of righteousness this is rejected while the overwhelming love of God is tested inside the father’s welcome to the more youthful son. Much less theological is the view of Kenneth E. Bailey who correlates information of The myth with requirements of Center Jap cultures. The anti-Jewish factor of view is discarded, however, a God of affection is still visible as the crucial topic.

The freshness in Amy-Jill Levine’s technique is to turn many theological techniques life on their head killing his son.

Jewish audiences inside the time of Jesus might not be interested in theology which came with the dominance of Hellenism (which at that point was discovered in Palestinian cities and no longer in the rural nation-state). Parables have been testimonies with a sting. They often took a traditional subject, inclusive of a father who suggests favoritism to a younger son and gave it a stunning flip on the end that dissatisfied normal assumptions. Seeking to study heavy theological issues into small information of the story, then, would be foreign to the reason of the storyteller and the messages understood by Jewish listeners.

This comparison in perspectives got here out currently in a Sunday faculty dialogue after viewing a video lecture by Kenneth Bailey. The magnificence, that is reading my book Speaking Lower back to the Bible, turned into pausing to hear Bailey before reading the bankruptcy at the Prodigal Son.

Bailey did not make the mistake of presenting God’s love within the tale as disowning the faithfulness of the older brother. Bailey related info of the story to family dynamics he had seen in Middle Eastern cultures. He becomes not aware of Levine’s factor that a loving father was probably being manipulated through a spoiled son conversant in getting his manner with daddy – an interpretation that turns God’s love into something fickle and prone to favoritism rather than the overpowering generosity generally seen by using Christian interpretations.

The tremendous element about this parable and others told by Jesus, as Levine cited, is how they can lead to An expansion of interpretations. It is the character of the genre to supply this type of response – and the better the tale, the wider the variant infeasible interpretations.

The interpretation supplied in Talking Returned to the Bible attracts on my adolescence experience of being terrified via sermons on a judgment. I agree that the father in the tale represents the love of God, however, it is not the unbounded and overly generous love frequently supplied from Christian pulpits. I suppose the technique by Amy-Jill Levine allows help a view that It’s far God’s forgiveness this is provided greater than unbounded love, despite the fact that I think she could suppose my approach is just too theological.

I see The parable as a story of forgiveness and celebration whilst judgment and anger had been anticipated because of the norm. the more youthful son dedicated a critical offense, as Bailey and many others have mentioned when he could not look ahead to the father’s demise to get his inheritance. Then he lost all of it. Bailey points out there is no indication he wasted it in sinful methods. He went thru it fast and went bust – because of this he failed, regardless of how it passed off. In desperation, he had nowhere to turn and made a painful choice to go back domestic in whole shame. His go back is normally seen as repentance due to the fact he rehearses words that sound apologetic and seemed to recognize that he deserved not anything from his own family. Levine has pointed to what could have been the son’s manipulative cause, however, the tale clearly has the daddy looking to look repentance a lot that he did not wait to hear the son’s message.

Struggle arises over the birthday party thrown by using the daddy as opposed to over welcoming the lost son. The older son hears approximately the celebration past due because the daddy obviously forgot to invite him. The thought is that birthday party has long gone overboard and the older son gadgets.

The equal form of celebration takes place in the parable of the lost Sheep (Matthew 18:12-14; Luke 15:3-7). The proprietor leaves 90-9 sheep in the back of as he seeks an unmarried misplaced sheep. Then he celebrates and enjoys the recovery of this one more than the protection of 90-9.

The search for one misplaced sheep and the joyous welcome domestic for a wastrel certainly illustrate love, but It’s far the birthday celebration that is emphasized more than love. Despite the fact that the prodigal insulted his father, wasted his inheritance, and lower back a failure, the father offers loving forgiveness earlier than It is even requested. The birthday celebration celebrates that forgiveness has taken place in order that recovery to the family has come about. Likewise, the lost sheep’s healing is a motive for immoderate pleasure without asking how the loss came about.

The older son’s objection was no longer that the daddy ordinary the younger son Again into the own family but to the dearth of appreciation shown for his own steadiness in wearing out family duties. the father’s reaction became that he cherished this trustworthy son no Less than the wastrel. He said, in impact, “If you wanted a celebration you need to have stated so!” In other phrases, folks who do not move off track are taken for granted. They don’t want forgiveness as they experience the ever-gift reality of family love. One moral of the tale is: We do not rejoice the normal, regular things which are important to us. We shout for joy, now not on the normal, but when something out of the regular occurs.

As I see it, Each parable focus on how forgiveness leads to healing and birthday party; but, there’s a hassle with parables. information are sketchy and the story quits in the Center. What befell to the prodigal after the birthday celebration? I suspect that fact set in very soon, but we do not know for certain.

In chapter 13 of Speaking Back to the Bible, I argue that forgiveness and celebration do now not do away with herbal results. This is in which my concern about judgment enters the photo. the father, representing God, welcomes the son Back without implementing penalties suggesting divine wrath. however, there is no indication that the older son will have inheritance taken from him to reinstate the younger son. Dropping half the own family fortune has outcomes which might be unavoidable.

The form of forgiveness seen in the Prodigal Son isn’t always a fairytale event that completely undoes errors within the beyond. It’s miles a down-to-earth forgiveness that lets in a person to transport ahead in life whilst nonetheless facing herbal outcomes of preceding actions. recuperation brings a mountain pinnacle experience as everybody celebrates. but valleys observe inside the next days as we ought to stay with results of past errors. still, forgiveness liberates us to recognition at the destiny, without heavy burdens of guilt and regret, because we have faced as much as our problems. The beyond doesn’t disappear however we can be given it and circulate forward to a better destiny. This is a sensible forgiveness experience available to anyone.

Why Self-Improvement Techniques Are Killing You

Over the brand new yr’s, I had a chat with an excellent buddy of mine; he’s a splendid expert who takes satisfaction in what he does. he’s one of the most compassionate and passionate guys in both existence and paintings. He earned numerous cash for the work he does, he is building multiple resources of profits and of the path, a massive recommend of self-development. Shortly after the new 12 months countdown, we have been sitting on a balcony and chatting about the beyond the year. When I congratulated him for all the matters that he has achieved he replied,

“I do not think I am successful in any respect – in fact, I can not surely say if I’m happier than earlier than.”

But how can this be? There had been such a lot of things that I renowned about him. He studies at least 50 books ultimate 12 months. He traveled a lot. He religiously practiced he’s self-improvement strategies. He made loads of cash. Most people might assume – without a doubt – that he become aa hit man and each day of his lifestyles might be a bliss. However, this wasn’t real. It failed to make the experience to me, and possibly, it didn’t for him both.

The 12 months 2016 turned into a thrilling year for me. I end my well-hooked up process and decided to take a mile extra entrepreneurial role, where I should work with and for greater like-minded human beings. It becomes the fine decision I have ever made considering the fact that I moved to Singapore, and that means loads. The year 2016 became a turning point in my life. I proved myself that I ought to yet again challenge myself and pass out of my comfort quarter, ditch the instant gains of relaxed income and blessings for the possibility of a better existence. Now I wanted to make the yr 2017 even higher. With an experience of success, I began to scribble down my dreams for the brand new 12 months. wherein I wanted to go, what I wanted to do, who I desired to become, and what sort of I wanted to make. Then it hit me. My goals had been based totally on effects, not values. This became precisely why my friend could not be content and be satisfied for all he had achieved.

Why Hire A Personal Life Coach?

Right here are a few key reasons how hiring a Personal Existence Train can unlock your highest ability.

Achieved with therapy. It is able to sense remarkable to talk about our troubles however it would not remedy them. We will study what we suppose is inaccurate all day lengthy. Or We can exchange our angle. Looking lower back and analyzing only gets us to date. We want to take action. Feeling stuck. People can experience stuck in Existence and in their present-day situation. When you are involved in the detail of your Lifestyles, It can be hard to see your options. Coaching helps you to see all potential alternatives and understand restricting beliefs so you can truly see what is viable. Feeling misplaced. Many clients discover that they have ended up in a profession or a relationship and don’t know how they got there. It isn’t always their ardor. It is able to not be what they studied or wished for. They could feel misplaced and burdened, unsure approximately the way to make adjustments in their Existence. Their confidence could be low. They enjoy the benefit of having aid, encouragement, and duty that a Coach offers. Coaches ask the questions and the clients have the solutions. It’s about unlocking a human’s ability that is mendacity dormant. Sad. Humans can be Unhappy for a number of reasons and come to be familiar with this country of being. Training is fantastic outcome targeted, so we are not relying on analyzing the sadness and digging up the vintage floor. We look at wherein you’re now and the way you want your Life to be. And then attention on moving on the right route. Being Secure. Your comfort area is the zone of protection. Or is it? It is horrifying but great to experience the thrill Whilst you move from your consolation area. Education allows People to see their ability and move towards it, without the negative voices or distractions preserving your lower back. The nearer you’re to moving from your consolation region, the louder the voice of doubt and fear becomes. So having a Train is priceless at assisting you to create the Lifestyles you really need earlier than any self-sabotaging behaviors seem.

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