#help i feel empty and devoid of creative energy

[cellsshapedlikestars]

I feel like I've had zero creative energy since I got covid, and it's annoying me. I did write one thing based off a small fever dream I had, but it's way too short and there's literally no plot so I can't bring myself to post it on ao3. Instead, I'm gonna post it here just because I do like it, even if my brain can't come up with an actual plot for whatever this is. Maybe some day.

.

The pickup bumps and rattles over the road, and Jon grits his teeth and tries not to curse. Where his taxes go, Jon has no idea, but it certainly isn’t to road maintenance. At least not out here. 

On the radio, they’re playing some song he swears he hasn’t heard in a decade, but somehow knows all the words to. Ghost lets out a snort as they hit another bump, and Jon meets his eyes in the rearview and says, “sorry buddy.”

As he rounds a bend in the road, his foot eases off the gas when he sees something up ahead.

No, not something. Someone.

It’s a girl, and when she hears the engine of his truck, she turns, sticks her thumb out. A hitchhiker. He didn’t think people did that anymore. He doesn’t even know how she got out here to begin with.

Against his better judgment, he slows. Hitchhikers can be dangerous, and he doesn’t need any trouble. He isn’t some bleeding heart. He left his childhood dreams of being a grand hero back in the North.

Yet still, he slows to a stop next to her, leaning over and rolling down the passenger side window.

She’s pretty. It’s the first thing he thinks.

The second thing he thinks is that she has no business being out here. Not with those earrings, or the heels he noticed before he pulled up, or the set of expensive leather luggage, now coated in dust and mud.

“I need to get to Riverrun,” she says through the window. A Northern accent, though much less harsh than his. Polished. It matches her earrings.

“How’d you get all the way out here?” he asks. The nearest town is likely a two hour walk in the opposite direction, especially dragging that set of luggage behind her.

“Can you take me or not?” she asks, eyes squinting against the sun. The baby hairs not caught up in her copper ponytail curl and stick to her forehead and neck. The rivers that crisscross the countryside make the humidity nearly unbearable in the dead of summer.

“Yeah, I can take you,” he says. He’s heading there anyway, and he can’t leave her out here by herself. She’ll get into trouble.

He watches her struggle to load her bags into the bed of his pickup, then she gets into the passenger side. She’s wearing a loose dress covered in pastel blue flowers, and when she sits, it hits mid thigh. He pulls his eyes away.

Definitely trouble.

“You know hitchhiking’s dangerous,” he says, pulling back onto the road as she buckles herself in.

Out of his periphery, he watches her look at him. “You going to murder me?” she asks. She doesn’t sound very concerned.

He lets out a breath through his nose, and says, “no, but you don’t know that. I could be anyone.”

“What if I’m the murderer and you’re the one in trouble?” 

His eyes cut to her. There’s no real expression on her face, she’s just watching him, waiting for an answer.

“I think I’ll be alright,” he says, looking back at the road. She gives a hum. He doesn’t know what that means.

She twists in the seat. “You’re big.”

Jon looks at her, then the rearview. Ghost pants happily, ears perked forward at the attention.

“Am I allowed to pet him, or is he a murderer, too?”

“No one’s going to murder you,” Jon sighs, hands tightening around the wheel. “I was just telling you, you shouldn’t be hitchhiking because it’s dangerous.”

Especially someone like her, but he doesn’t say it. She’d probably get offended.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He blinks, then remembers what she actually asked. “Yeah, you can pet him.”

“What’s your name?” she asks, holding her hand out for Ghost to sniff.

“Ghost.”

He can feel her looking at him again, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

“Ghost,” she repeats, twisting around again. Jon can hear Ghost’s tail thumping on the leather seat. He tries to keep his eyes on the road. Tries not to notice the way her skirt rides up. It makes him feel like one of those people he’s trying to warn her against.

The ride is silent except for the radio and the wind through the open windows and Ghost’s thumping tail and happy pants as she scratches behind his ear.

“Almost at Riverrun,” he says eventually, as the roads become familiar, better kept. “Where can I drop you at? There’s a motel and a train station.”

He can feel her looking at him again. There’s a few moments of silence, before she says, “do you know where Blackwater Road is?”

Jon lets out a snort. Of course he does, it’s in the part of town where all the old money families live - but he knows where it is and so he drives her there. His pickup is out of place, but it’s not like he’s never been here before. His work takes him to every part of town.

He notices the car only a second before she sucks in a slow breath. It sits up ahead, at the entrance to the Tully estate, and it’s just as out of place here as his own, though in a completely different way.

The old money families drive nice cars, but they’re understated and elegant. This is a sports car, red and sleek and low to the ground. A man leans against the side, just as flashy as his car.

Jon knows without her saying anything that this is where she needs to be.

“Tully?” he asks anyway.

“Grandma’s waiting for me,” she says as his truck slows, her hand briefly curling into a fist on her thigh.

“What the fuck, Sans?” the man says, pushing off his sports car and walking towards Jon’s pickup. “You jump out of my car, but take a ride from some fucking hillbilly?”

“You alright?” Jon asks, as the girl reaches for the door handle.

She looks at him, and he sees it - the Tully resemblance. He’s only met Minisa a few times, but the eyes are unmistakable.

“I’m alright,” she says.

Then she opens the door and slides out, smoothing her skirt down. The man turns red in the face as she walks to the back of the pickup and starts pulling her luggage out.

“Don’t ignore me, Sansa,” the man says. His blond hair flops into his face, and Jon thinks he’d be handsome if he didn’t look like a petulant child. When she doesn’t answer, his face turns a shade of red Jon doesn’t think is healthy. “Did you at least pay the man for the ride? I bet you fucked him, didn’t you? Only thing that whore mouth is good for-”

Jon feels his teeth grind together, and he sets his truck in park and reaches over and pushes the passenger side door open, clicking his tongue. Ghost hops over the center console and out, ears flattening. The man makes a choked noise and steps back.

The girl pauses where she’s stacking her luggage, and she looks at Jon. What she’s thinking, he doesn’t know, but she doesn’t seem shocked at the language, or the situation. Then she reaches out and pets Ghost’s head one last time, before tilting the stack of luggage and carefully rolling it up the Tully estate driveway.

Jon waits until she’s out of sight before giving a sharp whistle. Ghost jumps back into the truck, and Jon reaches over and pulls the door closed.

Then he puts the truck in drive, and he knows peeling the tires isn’t good for them, but he does it anyway, kicking up a cloud of dust. The blond man lifts an arm to cover his face as Jon u-turns from the estate and heads back out to Riverrun proper.

[steelcityreviews]

REVIEW: An American Hymnal: Forgiving and Healing Through Music...

He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love…. - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Music provides humanity with many things: a universal language, a range of emotional responses, and, for many, a light in the dark. Terra Bruce Productions understands how music functions in our every day lives and how to channel it into not only a history lesson but a deeply personal story dealing with the importance of forgiveness as well.

The show introduces us, rather abruptly, to Father Paul Barry (in a captivating performance by Connor Lucas) who has left his home in Ireland to move to America, determined to help others. On the busy streets of Chicago he encounters Dinah, an unforgettable jazz singer (and a beautiful and layered performance by Ruth Acheampong), leaving Paul with a decades long lasting impression. We follow their journeys through melding various genres of music from gospel to rock and roll of the 50’s and 60’s, and face the injustices of society throughout, many of which still resonate strongly to this day.

Director Courtney Brown and the creative team behind An American Hymnal showcase some of the best use of projections I have witnessed in ages. The projections set the scenes beautifully from the stained glass of a church to the devastating fires of the Chicago riots (which targeted black urban areas following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968). These projections do not detract from the efforts of this exceptionally talented cast who work fluidly to transition scenes and keep the story moving. At times, the stage at Theatre Aquarius almost feels too big for the more intimate moments between characters, but it also demonstrates how isolating and empty moments in life can be and the staging utilizes this well overall.

As we journey with Father Paul, we are introduced to several familiar songs like Morning Has Broken (best known by Yusuf/Cat Stevens), His Eye is On the Sparrow (a stunning gospel song recognizable from Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit), Only You by The Platters and the powerhouse performance of I Believe (a pop song from the late 60’s, envisioned here as a march and protest song). There are some standout moments from Steve Maloney as the rockabilly baritone Carter Johnson (who channels an entertaining heartthrob Elvis vibe) and the ensemble continuously shines in the aforementioned I Believe and The Three Bells, among others. There are no small parts within this show and the ensemble proves it throughout as they dance, sing, play multiple characters and change set pieces effortlessly. Bravo.

The leads Lucas and Acheampong are both exceptional in their own right. Lucas is gut-wrenching in his moments of despair. His soaring tenor was impressive in several songs (especially during His Eye is On the Sparrow which gave me chills) and Acheampong’s stubborn dreamer energy is authentic and inspiring with her incredible vocal prowess in I Believe and Wade in the Water.

The audience will connect with several of the themes here, the strongest being that of learning how to forgive and perhaps even more importantly, to be forgiven. There’s no escaping the religiosity of it all but forgiveness goes beyond monotheism and takes a very hard look at how to move on and learn from one’s mistakes, hardships and loss. The musical selections only hammer these themes home and are carefully reprised in the second act, taking on new and more profound meanings.

An American Hymnal is a deeply moving and impactful history lesson reflecting on moments that still resonate today. It also provides wonderful connections regarding how music shapes and changes throughout history. It reminds us that without gospel, we would never know rock and roll. Without mistakes, we would never know forgiveness. Without loss, we would never truly understand or appreciate love. All these things and more make this new musical a must-see. The only true criticism I have is that it isn’t playing in Hamilton, ON for more than 3 days. I highly recommend seeing this show. You will not be disappointed.

FOR TICKETS AND MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE VISIT:

THEATRE AQUARIUS BOX OFFICE

[belit0]

Commission for @GlitterBomba!

Part 2 of this!! I don't feel it's as angsty as it should be, but for some reason, my creativity wanted it that way? It's been a long time since I've last written, and this was definitely a challenge... First part was produced way too long ago, so it was also challenging to connect with what I felt when I wrote it! But here it is, and I hope you like it, GlitterBomba. Thanks for trusting me!

My Ko-fi page~ Buy me a coffee if anyone wants part 3 ❤（っ＾▿＾）

It took you days to awaken from your deep sleep, days which became weeks, and weeks transformed into months. There was no hope for your life among the healers, but the tenacity and insistence of those elders who saved you forced them to continue providing methods and energy, herbs, talismans to keep you breathing.

Impossible to explain how that mortal blow did not steal your last breath, not when the perpetrator was the greatest tyrant in the current world, the monster everyone learned to fear and flee from. In the small place where you are kept hidden, rumor has it the treacherous one repented as soon as his hand affected your body, causing you not to succumb immediately.

It wasn’t until after he vanished, shrouded in lightning and hatred, when one of Ashura’s subordinates came upon the scene of your sad fate. A pool of blood acting as a bed over a pale body, devoid of any warmth and life. Everyone was quick to write you off for dead after such an event, and only when one of the village elders took your pulse did he find your incredible attempt to resist despite all odds.

Keeping you along with the new leader and his people would not be a good idea. Not when you barely escaped with your life from the beast. In case he came back and besieged his younger brother, it would be better if he didn’t find you there. That man proved to have an unquenchable thirst for revenge.

Tempting fate once is more than enough.

That led a group of elderly men, those who defended your slight pulse when everyone thought you were dead, to ask Ashura’s permission before disappearing and taking you to a safe place, making use of some of the village healers to ensure your health. 8 men of different ages vanish with you, swearing on their lives to do everything possible for you to open your eyes again.

Winters turned into warm seasons, and autumn leaves were waning. Two whole years quickly go by before your consciousness returns. The world is different. You understand through your guardians that life passed with you as a ghostly presence, a bedridden legend they fought all this time to preserve.

No one mentions what happened to you, though. No one names him.

To everyone’s surprise, you don’t really ask about the village; you don’t ask about your birthplace and your home. You don’t ask... about him.

Your healers discover you memory was damaged after exhaustive examinations beyond your comprehension. Theories why this happened are various in your little home; some argue the loss of blood hurt your brain, others believe the trauma of that betrayal forced you to block it all out, and there are those who think maybe you ignored the past on purpose.

Still, there is an unspoken rule forbidding the mention of what happened, of the village, of those two brothers. After experiencing hell, what would be the benefit of forcibly bringing you back to that horrible past? In this remote place, you have the chance to start from scratch, and your rescuers believe it is the least you deserve.

Little by little, you gradually learn everything all over again. Your own name, your age, information about those around you. You ask with animosity about everything you don’t understand, and the only thing there is reluctance to answer is when you want to know about who you were before... this.

Healers get the problem off their shoulders, rushing you to ask such questions to the older people. They shoo you out of their humble hut with nervousness and red faces, panic in their eyes.

Seniors sigh as they stare into nothingness, sadness and nostalgia, painting their countenances with something you cannot grasp. Some even drop a couple of tears to the rhythm of a depressing whisper, “oh poor child...”

The scene makes you feel so guilty you end up consoling them, assuring it’ s not a big deal and you don’t need to be told. That your life in this small place with them is all you need to be happy, past or no past.

Regardless, it is the scar monstrously painting your stomach which makes you uneasy. While tracing the edges of that sensitive skin with your fingertips, you feel its reason for existence is on the tip of your tongue. As if reminders of what happened to you are lingering there, buried in your head, but creeping closer to your memory every time you look at your navel.

What happened? What terrible thing could have left such an enormous mark on your skin, but not in your head?

It’s frustrating.

Eventually, curiosity to explore beyond your own narrow world peaks. It’s quite natural, considering four older men and four medicine buffs rarely make for an interesting group of company. Older men drink tea most of the day, when they’re not napping in the sun, of course. The rest read rigorously and debate among themselves about their newly gained knowledge.

Getting permission is a complicated task. They are terribly afraid of your departure, scared of your fate, frightened of what dangers you might encounter.

But how to keep you there forever, when you have seen the vivid movement the closest town has?

Perhaps it was your rescuers’ mistake for allowing you to go exploring within the boundaries they considered safe, yet you inevitably discovered such a place, so close and yet so far away, so full of people and... life. Persons of all ages walking from one side to the other, food you never saw before displayed in various stalls, children playing with each other, unaware of the surrounding universe. Everything looks completely natural, as if folks are used to this kind of lifestyle since long ago, and you wonder if you ever lived in a similar environment.

Just what hides in your past?

After insistence and great pleas against the overprotection imparted on you, they understand it is simply hopeless to make you give up your idea unless they expose all those shocking events, unless they explain from what kind of danger it is necessary for you to hide, from whom it is imperative you escape.

No one knew anymore about that demon after his disappearance the same day, and it is uncertain where he is. Whether he is hiding or far from your current home, it is unknown to anyone, and it would invoke bad luck if your guardians expected you to meet him face to face once you get away from them.

Preparation of weeks and many directions, you finally depart from your unnoticed hideout in the world, leaving behind anxious seniors and worried healers.

It was agreed you could explore for a couple of months, but your eventual return is a binding closure on the deal you reluctantly struck. Each new destination brings with it new discoveries, tastes, experiences. You always find charitable souls willing to help when you are short of food, water or shelter, people who offer to give directions when you get disoriented, people who share stories with you on lonely, nostalgic nights.

With each step you take in the outside world, less you understand what your guardians are afraid of. Everyone is well meaning, and no one seeks to take advantage of your innocence. It is incomprehensible why this was denied to you for so long, and every time you think of your precious little home, an emptiness grows in your heart.

Weeks slowly pass, and having experienced so much in such a short time, you find the need to recount it to those you consider your family. As initially agreed, it may be time to return, to prove the world is not as terrible as they feared.

A few miles from homeland, just as you feel you are walking the grounds of your family again, you stop at a stream to get a drink of water, determined not to slow down until you reach your destination. It is too much of a thrill to witness those 8 insane people bickering and arguing. You absentmindedly smile as you rinse your face.

In your distraction, you cannot hear footsteps approaching at your back. It’s not like you would have detected them if you were paying attention either, for the person stalking you is deliberately careful, calculating.

Turning, your face affects directly into a solid mass of muscle, sending you tumbling down the riverbank again. Any woman would have assumed the worst when connecting glances with a man who invades her personal space unannounced, but from your mouth comes a concerned “Are you okay?”

The man, who is watching you as if a ghost were sitting next to you in the water and you were unaware of it, bleeds. Profusely, indeed. Both of his hands are deeply cut, distinct wounds on his palms dripping thickly to the ground.

There is no answer to your question, and the man’s countenance is difficult to decipher. His eyes glow a red which fades too quickly to analyze, his complexion is completely pale and unhealthy, his hair points in all directions, forming a long brown tangle which you deduce has not been combed for some time. For moments, it is as if there are words trying to pierce his lips, but the stupor of the individual continues.

“Your hands... we really should take care of them, shouldn’t we? Aiya, let this humble one help you heal.”

There is no reaction as you stand up and take him by the arm, guiding him to a large rock away from the water and helping him to sit up. His gaze is still completely fixed on your face, searching for something you’ re oblivious to. His mouth opens and closes rapidly, agitated breaths accompanied by sounds resembling syllables.

“Look at this mess alone... sir, you should be cautious walking along the bed of these waters. They are treacherous, hm?”

Ripping off one of your sleeves, previously dampened when you fell into the water, you use the cloth to clean his wounds. There’s not much you can do here, out in the open and in these conditions, but judging by the man’s appearance, he was probably recently attacked. When you mention your little home a few miles away, the man doesn’t refuse or accept.  

Still, when you head back to the road, you find the fellow following you from behind, head down and staring at the ground. In his hands he tightly clenches the cloth of your sleeve, and blood stains the fabric completely at this point. You talk about the healers in your place, and how they can help him get better, but no matter how much you try, the man never responds. You ponder whether, perhaps, the situation he experienced before he ran into you may have been intense, and you attribute his perturbation to that.

After walking without pause all afternoon, your silent companion always keeping your own pace, your destination appears in front of you. From afar, you can see the elders sitting on the engawa of their cottage, sharing tea and quietly waiting for dusk. All is silent, and your announcement of arrival is the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

Your arms wave vigorously to catch the attention of those you regard as family, a splendorous smile planted on your face, walking at an increased speed to catch up with them. An extended curtsey bow is given before them, and only after raising your head you dare to give them all a group hug, false formality forgotten as much as your guest.

The man slowly approaches this scene and analyzes the faces of those present as the embrace takes place. Had you not been turning your back on him, you may have noticed the change in his countenance, coldness creeping over his features from one moment to the next. None of the elders noticed his noiseless presence, not even having sensed it to begin with, and it is not until one of them finishes smiling and opens his eyes to come face to face with their worst fear.

Suddenly the hug is interrupted when this old man lets out a shriek, trying to back away and losing his balance. You follow his line of sight while turning, and find that innocent-looking stranger again, disoriented. There are screams all around you. Seniors are horrified and collapse on the floor next to each other, completely surrendered to the gaze of the demon fixed on them.

“Don’t behave like that! It would appear it wasn’t you guys who taught me manners... I’m so sorry, sir, they’re not used to dealing with travelers, let alone wounded ones... if you’d be so kind as to follow me?”

Throwing a withering glance at the group of elders, you direct your guest to the house the healers occupy. True, your little family is not used to encountering men in the state this very one is in, but you never expected such an exaggeration. A bit of unkempt hair and blood, pale skin, and they’re all screaming on the floor?

The reaction of the healers is not much different, and after reprimanding them for behaving so shamefully, you get them to treat the man’s hands. Leaving them alone so as not to disturb the setting, you make your way to the third and final cottage, your own. Since the other houses occupy four people each, it would be problematic to ask them to accommodate your own guest, and you take your time assembling an extra bed, improvising with blankets.

Nighttime is delightfully quiet, and as the door opens without warning, you greet the individual with a smile. Elders have taken the trouble to bring food for both you and him, announcing neither they nor the healers were in the mood to share dinner together.

The man’s hands are bandaged, his palms completely covered, and his thumbs trapped in the wrappings. He looks uncomfortable, and it shows in his inability to do anything on his own. His chopsticks are impossible to hold as he kneels on the floor and tries to eat, and after many urgings from you, he nods silently and almost imperceptibly, allowing you to help him.

“You see... you’re here, eating my food, under my roof, safe and comfortable... and I still don’t know your name...”

Teasing is imminent in your voice, hoping to relax him, if only a little. As he takes another bite and chews, his eyes are fixed on the table, like trying to hide from your presence.

After analyzing the end of your day alongside this presence, you assessed this man must be terribly shy, perhaps someone properly introverted. Still, observing his features, you get a strange familiarity, a feeling making you let your guard down and relax in front of him. A secret knocking at the door of your mind, demanding to burst in front of you but being invisible at the same time.

“... Uchiha...”

Without expecting an answer anymore, after several minutes, his voice surprises you. It sounds like that of someone who rarely uses it, raspy and rusty, as if it had been forgotten long ago, and not even the man himself remembers its ringing.

“Um?”

“Lord Uchiha...”

His name, you realize. Formal, a title.

Lord Uchiha continues in the same position, just like his words had been an illusion. It is impossible to keep giving him food, his attitude surly and refusing, and you wonder if he plans to spend the entire night in the same position if you allow him to.

Demandingly, you get him up and offer him your bed for the night.

He tries to take the spot you set up on the floor, and displays physical strength far beyond what you thought he had. There are firm muscles hiding under his stained white tunic, and they flex slightly every time he tries to change the course you both walk. He is probably holding back, you realize, for the way his forearm tenses. The stubbornness of this individual… as if he were someone unaccustomed to taking orders, leading rather than listening. Either way, he ends up tucked inside your room, buried under sheets and quilts so he doesn’t get cold.

You find your own resting place after closing the door and leaving your guest. There is not much room inside your small home, and yet, the greatest comforts are offered to those who really need them.

That night, a fearsome nightmare assaults your dreams. A pitch-black claw pierces your stomach from both sides, long nails tearing through skin and tissue like cloth. Blood pools at your feet, solidifying and making escape impossible. You feel your lips move in a choked scream, and a single word escapes your throat along with another red waterfall.

“... Indra...”

[astrology-with-charu]

Gemini Season & New Moon in Gemini June #Astrology #Horoscope

Bike riders are out on the roads with a devil may care attitude - you know Gemini season is here.

Socially distancing, the neighbours are celebrating birthday screaming from one balcony to another cute wishes, you know Gemini season is here.

Something inside you doesn’t let you sit - you pace, you tweet, you read, you tweet again, you have to have to tell someone that thing you might have heard & might be true or not - you are 60% sure it’s true, ok 50% sure, ok who is ever more than 30% sure of anything anymore & subtract 10% cause it was told by my aunt to my other aunt, you know Gemini season is here.

Silly antics & a bit of belly laughter - it was a joke, a bit of tall tale - but it made you laugh didn’t it - when we are able to joke a little bit even in middle of a pandemic - you know Gemini season is here.

This is one of those rare years as 2020 has decided to be on all accords, where Gemini Season is beginning with a new Moon - Sun & Moon in Gemini - oh that’s not all Mercury, Venus, North Node in Gemini !!! That’s a lot of exclamation marks & it deserves it so.

Gemini heavy energy keeps things light within even when we don’t know if this is hope or delusion - there is no way to tell right now. Gemini season brings overload of information but there is no discretion in that - we don’t know what’s false what’s true.

It’s information - unprocessed, raw - all for our quick consumption & action. But we mutate, grow mentally in Gemini season - we are able to use all of that information coming our way to create something meaningful. We always walk off wiser, learning, reading, writing, selling, creating something of real commercial value after Gemini season - our mind grows as does our knowledge. And reskilling is what I feel we must dedicate this season to.

We will have the stormy summer of eclipses which I spoke of in my Eclipse note

(https://www.facebook.com/595133057621535/posts/847026582432180/)

but we will have Sun in topical zodiac sign of Gemini till 20 June - giving us flexibility, agility to mutate to new life situations. But things aren’t going to be fixed in stone - expect speed, too much information / news coming our way, things changing quickly but trust also your capacity to respond to it.

This new moon in Gemini which will have strong influence on us for next two weeks - walks the thin line of hope & delusion. At 2° Gemini it prompts return to State of Innocence, to never loose that child like belief in marvel of life - imagination, play, possibly bringing us back to books & games we enjoyed as a kid.

This is a bit of discovery process - discovery of new & of what looks impossible. We to some extend are prompted to not poke holes in our imagination - not shoot darts of reality at the moment. Sometimes hope in current moment is more important than thinking about larger life plan - small victories are more important than waiting to win the larger scale life battle. There is a bit of self indulgent denial of uncomfortable truths in this moment.

2° Gemini in Sambian astrology is depicted as “Santa Clause furtively filling stockings hanging in front of the fireplace” - there is a deliberation in creating optimism cause this journey of discovering the impossible that we are on requires a bit of faith, just pure child like faith in life. And the new moon at this degree of innocence is trying to gently wake that back up in us - through play, through reminder of the past, even through this lovelorn nostalgia doing circles in our mind. We are being reminded that we dream, we hope & we create from a place of possibilities not from a place of lack. It’s reminding us possibly of happy times so we can start working on creating happier ones.

You and I both know there is a whole lot of misinformation & sometimes unfounded optimism which is doing rounds. But within limits is that so bad ? Neptune is a strong influence right now & will be till mid June - that breeds deception, misinformation but it also rules miracles, faith, solidarity, higher octave of Venus - selfless love & compassion for others in the common boat. But it’s not the music of sinking titanic that Neptune is blaring, though many of us would be strongly hearting the blues cause the cocktail of Venus retrograde & Neptune square usually ends up in nostalgia or worst romantic mistakes. Neptune creates the fog of hope too - helping us walk beyond our current existence & our current limitations. Helping us do things that are frightening sometimes even heroic. Beautiful things come out of loss sometimes with Neptune faith cause it dissolves what’s not real in our life.

Conjunct the fixed Star Alcyone - known for Mercury of Freud - this is opportunity to plant a new seed devoid of judgement cause there is possibility of real insight provided we don’t yet - not yet - poke holes in the possibility by making a list of all the reasons why it won’t work. Return to state of innocence requires more than just laughing with your friends again - it requires us to create hope against hope. Collectively it puts the responsibility on all of us to put our thinking caps on, leaving the wallow of the past behind to create for the future. This is the star of Leonardo da Vinci - inventive, artistic, visionary. It’s linked with blindness to what’s in front of us but it’s also linked to third eye opening - there is potential for a visionary idea, real insight provided we stay off our own rushed judgements against our own possibility of success.

But this is your vision - not of a cult leader - that’s where we need to be careful of the deception element of this season. Easy test is to know whether you are working on your imagination & idea or another man’s dream that was sold to you. This star is also linked to Jim Jones - you know the spiritual leader that led a flock of 500 followers to mass suicide on the basis of his “spiritual” vision - yes one of those we gotto stay off.

As I mentioned in North Node In Gemini & South Node In Sagittarius note -

(https://www.facebook.com/595133057621535/posts/849354288866076/)

road to success till early 2022 is to learn to see world in simpler terms & making life decisions using facts not philosophy - no cults, manipulators of information calling themselves “guru or Teachers or worst saviours”, staying in present - here & now, not a 2030 plan but a now & here plan, empty mind of old information / learning / philosophies- reskilling, staying local versus globe trotting, flexible, media savvy, staying off extreme belief systems & extreme philosophies, staying far off from people peddling those as well. Rahu will continue to manipulate & exaggerate information - think of time post 9/11 when north node was last in Gemini - think of information/ misinformation spread post that as well as impact on our belief system, faith & on mundane level how globalisation and travel was changed forever.

While you sift, sort absorb information overload, stay on a plan - don’t get distracted by theories of people peddling them for click baits & views. Your time is precious & this period is crucial for you to reskill, learn, get more involved in your local communities, become a student of life - that feeling of being a student who hasn’t yet chosen his or her specialisation - he/she is confused yet full of possibilities cause anything is possible & there are multiple options cause everything is being recreated in some ways.

Both Mercury & Venus in Gemini are out of bounds till early June - this is our mind & heart together in uncharted territory. It’s great for developing new ways of thinking, hearing those imaginary noises in our head 😉, lateral thinking, learning information on things we didn’t think possible before. Shocking talks with no way of knowing validity of the tall claims by people, our talk till atleast 9th June will have no censors, no limitations. It will lead to the diplomatic issue on global relationships in first ten days of June which we spoke of in Venus retrograde videos & notes. We would say things we haven’t said before but we would also open ourselves to possibilities we haven’t opened ourselves to - out of norm bold expression of unique. If you listen to Howard Sterns - he has Mercury out of bounds! It gives creative talent for dissolving boundaries of what is normally possible - we are able to go unorthodox and with Mercury zooming ahead of Sun it’s the time to try the untested.

This will happen in love & intimacy too with Venus out of bounds - but remember Venus is retrograde - experiment but don’t get attach to whatever quirky pleasure or relationship you are trying out. It may not fit post the retrograde so don’t overextend financially or emotionally or in fashion / dramatic change in looks - we are bound to go for the ne real tried before fashions & styles.

In this out of bound period - you would find yourself or yours taking the risk to go for a job or career or project never tried before but more to their liking.

Next week 25-27 May we would see a display of exaggeration or hyperbole unfortunately & it will escalate tensions. There is need for adjustments on these dates - need to be flexible to see things from others perspective as our compulsive side or of others we deal with can get out of control. Arguments are possible as anything that’s being created contrary to what we want can bring up fears or rule us up while our mind & heart is out of bounds. We would need to consciously stay humble in our talk but still communicate what we need.

On 28th May North Node in Gemini will meet Mercury first time in 19 years - unicorns won’t fly but we would get amped up to talk & a chance discussion or messaging or thought can give a hint like boulder to a growth opportunity. Next 6 months we are going to be growing it & perfecting over next 18 months with North Node here. If you miss it don’t worry - we can’t really miss our destiny - we would have Sun make the same aspect right before summer solstice in June. But make an effort on these days to listen to signs, to yourself, as you would be just beginning to develop awareness to what growth opportunities north node in Gemini will bring to us. 28 May, 19 June & 5 August are exact dates when our personal planets would make first contact with nodes - support required to respond to upcoming opportunities usually comes on those days so listen in.

On 29th May all the way to end of month - Saturn with Virgo moon will guide us to partition our big ideas into actionable steps. Words may not come out in the way we want - I won’t choose this time for external communication but more for a step by step plan & to create real ways to create gains from those out of bound ideas.

While eclipses will bring storms & fated changes - Gemini season always reminds us to not forget to play, connect & laugh.

https://www.facebook.com/595133057621535/posts/860613727740132/

After a bit of panic attack, I played Candy land today - we are never too old to play, never too old to learn new skills - many brilliant ideas came from play!

[runaway-horses]

He’s so devoid of color (he don’t know what it means)

A/N: Good morning guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I am SICK and wrote 3500 words as a way to distract myself.

This fic was heavily inspired by this piece of art by the amazing @rilli-luci and the song Colors by Halsey.

Warnings: Roman angst, angst with a happy ending, this was written and edited while I had a 100 degree fever so 🤷🏼‍♀️

Pairing/s: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

It wasn’t uncommon for the sides to lock themselves in their rooms for days at a time.

Logan, refusing to leave until he had a schedule worked out, until he had a plan, until it was correct. The other sides to unpredictable, too temperamental, never fitting in his schedules, coloring outside the lines, obliterating the boxes.

Patton, getting lost in nostalgia and wandering memories for so long they wondered if he’d ever find his way back to the present. Staying in his room to work out the waves of his feelings, hoping they weren’t so strong that he drowned in them.

Virgil, overwhelmed by fear and so stuck in the what ifs he couldn’t focus on the right now. Before he was a part of the family, back when he spent his days working overtime to keep Thomas safe, alone and scared and rejected, he lived in his room, emerging as rarely as possible and avoiding contact with the others.

Roman, who relished in the creative energy his room provided, would spend hours, days, weeks, wandering his worlds and creating ideas. But as much as he enjoyed having his head in the clouds, the fall back to reality left his body and ego purpled with bruises.

Their rooms were sanctuaries, but they could be self imposed prisons.

•••

In the slow process of acknowledging their feelings and agreeing to a relationship, their routines changed. Logan set aside an extra cup of coffee in the morning for Virgil. Patton cooked the eggs a little longer for Roman. Virgil made an effort to join the three for breakfast, even with his exhaustion practically dripping off him.

They also made an effort to not spend so much time in their rooms.

Logan tried to write his schedules in the Commons, (which worked better, somehow. Patton would bring him snacks and a cup of coffee in the afternoon, and Virgil was there to remind him of important dates and to leave room for existential crises, creative block, and Parks and Rec marathons.)

Virgil was learning to come to the others when he was feeling anxious or upset about something. (And even when he didn’t, the other Sides were learning his tells so they could help the anxious Side without him needing to ask.)

Even Patton was learning to speak up when he was feeling sad. (If they noticed that his smile seemed fake or his eyes seemed hollow, they would send Roman into his room to see if they could coax him out into the commons, where Logan and Virgil would be waiting with a warm mug of tea and open expressions.)

But old habits die hard.

Sometimes Virgil’s door was locked, Patton would turn them away, or Logan would snap. Sometimes the Sides just needed time to work things out on their own, and their boyfriends understood.

So when Virgil came down for breakfast one morning and Roman wasn’t at the table, he didn’t do anything more than raise an eyebrow at Patton before accepting the coffee from Logan gratefully. Patton smiled at him and ruffled his hair as he sat down.

“Pat,” Virgil grumbled, patting his hair back down. “Have you guys checked on Roman?”

Logan shook his head. “We thought it was likely that he had had a late night and was simply sleeping in. Patton was planning on checking in on him after breakfast.”

Patton’s nodded in affirmation even as he fixed Roman’s spot with a wistful gaze. Virgil frowned and glanced up the stairs, wondering what was keeping Roman.

•••

The rest of the day passed smoothly, although Roman didn’t answer the door when Patton went upstairs after breakfast.

“It is likely that he is off exploring,” Logan had said, adjusting his glasses. “I wouldn’t be too alarmed, Patton.”

And Virgil had been able to believe him. After all, it really wasn’t that uncommon for Roman to spend hours, days even, exploring his realms and gathering ideas. It wasn’t uncommon at all for one of them to spend a day in their room.

Thomas had had an evening out with his friends, and Virgil had been busy trying to warn Thomas about all the potential social blunders and dangers of going out, which had resulted in Thomas summoning him and Logan to try and work things out.

Virgil collapsed into bed that night, exhausted from worrying and his (civilized, if difficult) debate with Logan. Patton had knocked on his door with an invitation to watch TV with him, and Logan had been sitting on the couch with a book in his hand and a smile for Virgil when they came down, assuring him that they were ok.

•••

When Roman still hadn’t left his room the next day, Patton got concerned. He stood outside Roman’s door with a plate of breakfast and knocked softly.

“Kiddo? You ok in there?”

Silence.

“Alright, well if you’re ready to come out later, I have some food right here at your door.” He called out, wondering if Roman could hear him.

More silence.

Patton sighed and put the plate of food down before turning and trudging back down the stairs. His other two boyfriends were sitting quietly at the kitchen table, Logan holding Virgil’s hands and tapping methodically on them.

It was going to be a long day.

•••

The Mindscape was quiet without their resident Prince, and Logan could see that it was wearing on Virgil. He attempted to keep the anxious Side distracted as the day went on, (and he wouldn’t admit that it was as much a distraction for him as for Virgil.)

It was weighing on Patton too, Logan could tell. The two right brained Sides had a special connection that was an integral part of what made their relationship work.

Dinner passed in silence, and even though it was family movie night, they all made excuses and retired to their rooms early.

•••

On the third day, they decided it was too long. Just as they were heading up the stairs to Creativity’s room, Thomas summoned them.

The first thing Logan noticed when he rose up in his spot next to the stairs was how tired Thomas look. His hair was dirty and unkempt, and his clothes were rumpled as if he had slept in them.

Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Ok guys, what’s up? I’m not sleeping well and I feel...burned out.” He was also wearing a hoodie and standing slightly hunched, in a fashion similar to Virgil. Self conscious.

Logan then noticed that the spot next to the TV was empty.

“Thomas, I assume you also summoned Roman for this conversation?”

“Yes. Well, I tried to. He’s not responding.” He said with a frown.

Logan exchanges glances with Patton (who looked distressed,) and Virgil (who looked solemn.) They all appeared to have reached the same conclusion.

“Thomas, none of us have seen Roman for the past three days. We were on our way to his room to investigate when you summoned us.”

“Do you think he ducked out?” Thomas’s eyes were large with concern, and Logan caught the quick glance he threw at Virgil.

“No.” Logan said firmly, determined to not let this conversation spiral into something drastically emotional. “I do not know why he hasn’t left his room, but I am confident that he hasn’t ducked out. You would have no ego and no will to create, which would’ve impacted all of us.”

Thomas nodded and relaxed slightly. “Ok, if you say so, Logan. I believe you.”

“Excellent. If you do not require anything else, I think it would be best for us to go now.”

“Can I come with you?” Thomas asked quickly. “If something’s wrong with Princey, I’d like to know. I’d like to help.”

Logan glanced at the other two and nodded. “Of course, Thomas.”

And with that, all four sunk down in search of Roman.

•••

Roman’s room was quite large. The walls were painted white with a red accent wall, where he had a large bed pressed up against it. There were fairy lights strung up around the room, and an ornate door next to the bed that led into the Imagination.

It was loud room, one with high ceilings and an energy in the air that had possibility crackling across your skin like lightning.

But when the Sides and Thomas rose up in Roman’s room, it was silent.

The fairy lights hung dead from the ceiling, no joyful twinkling to draw your eyes to the sky. The walls were grey, all color gone and muted. There was no creative energy buzzing in the room, only a dampening sense of disappointment.

And there, curled in the corner of his bed, was Prince Roman.

A wave of emotions crashed over Logan, filling him with unease and panic.

He looked dead.

He wasn’t, of course. Logically, Logan knew this. This But every ounce of color had bled off of him, his red sash, his brown hair, his tan skin. He was gray from head to toe, blending in with his surroundings easily.

“Roman!” Came a choked voice from his left, and he saw Virgil looking paler than ever, a hand clasped tightly over his mouth. Thomas appeared to have stopped functioning, his mouth hanging slack and a blank look on his face.

At the sound of his name, Roman had opened his eyes, revealing that even his irises were gray.

Logan vision blurred with tears and his throat tightened painfully. Seeing one of his beloved in such a state was...more than distressing. But he was logic. And he knew that Patton was likely taking this harder than any of them. So he straightened up and turned to Thomas and Patton.

“Patton, dear.” Watery brown eyes looked at him, and the emotion in them was so deep Logan suspected he could drown in them. “Dearest, I think it would be best if you helped Thomas out of here. Could you do that?” He spoke softly, hoping to sooth the moral Side.

It took him a moment, but eventually Patton nodded and wiped at his eyes. “Come on Thomas, I got you. Let’s go outside for a minute huh?”

Confident that Patton had that situation under control, Logan approached the bed where Roman lay in the same position he had been in when they arrive.

“Roman?” His voice was as soft and gentle as he could make it as he kneeled next to the bed. He looked worse up close, none of his usual spark in his unnaturally gray eyes. He gently brushed Roman’s hair back off his forehead.

The Prince’s lips twitched into a smile. “Hey Specs.”

Logan had missed his voice.

“Hello love.” He stayed silent for a minute, simply running his fingers through Roman’s hair and gently detangling the knots he encountered. He heard Virgil approach from behind him and sit down next to Roman on the bed.

“Roman…what happened?” Virgil’s voice was quiet but still laced with concern and anxiety.

It was silent as Roman didn’t respond, but then his eyes welled with tears as he started to shake with sobs.

“Nothing-no ideas are coming to me! I-it’s not e-even that what I’m creating isn’t good, I’ve run out of ideas. I try to w-write and nothing flows, I can’t even sk-sketch without ruining it! It’s like I’ve never created before, nothing is working!”

He punctuated his statement by weakly hitting his pillow as he continued to shake. Logan and Virgil were both shocked into silence. They had never heard Roman, loud, bold Roman, chastise himself like this.

“What if I never create again? What if this is it? I’m letting down Thomas, I’m letting down the fans, I’m letting down all of you…” He trailed off in sniffles before whispering, “I’m such a disappointment.” That was enough to jerk Logan out of his shock.

“Roman, Roman. Love, you’re not letting anyone down. You’ve just hit a creative block is all.” Logan pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You are not, and will never be a disappointment.” Logan’s own heart was squeezing painfully, but he pushed it aside.

Later, he promised himself. They could talk about it later. There were more important things at hand.

•••

Roman was too weak to even stand up on his own, so Virgil helped Logan support him as they moved towards the bathroom. After gently sitting Roman down on the closed toilet, Logan put a hand on his knee and kissed his forehead.

“I’m going to go talk to Patton and Thomas. I’ll be back once you finish showering.”

As the door clicked shut after Logan, Roman dropped his gaze to the floor. Virgil sat in front of him and gently lifted his head with a finger under his chin. His gray eyes were unsettling, holding none of the warmth that Roman’s eyes usually did. None of the life.

Virgil smiled gently at him. “Are you ok with me undressing you so we can shower?”

Roman nodded and was still as Virgil undid the clasps at the back of his shirt, folding his shash and shirt on the sink. After he was in just his boxers, Virgil pulled off his own clothes and lifted him off the toilet.

“I got you Ro, don’t worry.”

•••

Roman’s entire body was sore. Every limb felt like it was made of lead, and it was just so hard to move.

He hadn’t even realized what was happening until it was too late, and even then he didn’t go to his boyfriends. Scared of how they’d react. Roman didn’t want his view of the perfect prince to be tarnished, so he’d locked himself in his room.

But when all three of them, plus Thomas, rose up in his room, there was no disgust. No anger or pity. Just love and concern.

And standing under the warm water, Virgil’s arms steady bands of warmth keeping him upright, he wished he had told them sooner. Wished he had gone to them when he started feeling his motivation drip off of him like sap, glue clogging his joints and movements as his creativity melted away.

Colors bleeding away, off his skin, off his walls, off his ideas. He wondered if he’d see color again. And then they arrived, tumbling into his room even though they didn’t need to, Logan with his deep blue filling the room with calm, Virgil’s electric purple lighting up his senses and permeating the air with the concern of a loved one. Patton’s light blue lighting up the room with love, filling the corners with light. And even Thomas, exuding warmth in a way that Roman’s room was severely lacking.

And Virgil was here, and Virgil was warm. And Logan had been nothing but comforting words and steady hands. Every pass of the washcloth over his skin washed off the motivation-sap and the joint-glue and the guilt of hiding himself.

He wanted to thank Virgil for this, for his quiet help and reassurance, but he was too tired to talk. It was ok though. The press of lips right behind his ear conveyed their meaning. It was an understood thing.

•••

When Virgil came down the stairs, his skin pink and hair wet, Patton sagged with relief, reaching out for his boyfriend. Virgil crawled into his lap and sighed, folding into him.

“He’s so weak, Pat.” Virgil croaked with tears pricking at his eyes. Patton put a hand on top of Virgil’s head and sighed. After barely a minute, Virgil sat back up. “I just came down so you guys would know we were done with the shower. I don’t want to leave him alone.” Patton nodded and stood up, wincing at the way his back popped.

Thomas stood up as well, wiping roughly at his face. Logan reached for Virgil’s hand, and they trudged up the stairs together.

•••

Re-entering Roman’s all gray room had the same effect that it did before, and everyone but Virgil shifted in unease. Roman was propped up against the headboard and his eyes were shut until he heard them enter.

Virgil wasted no time in crawling up the bed until he was resting against Roman’s side. Patton joined him, making sure to not lean too heavily on the Prince. Logan sat at the foot of the bed, reaching to place a hand on Roman’s leg. Thomas hovered awkwardly for a moment before mirroring Logan.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” Patton asked, pulling one of Roman’s hands into his lap and clasping it between two of his.

“Tired,” Roman replied honestly. “But warm.” He smiled weakly at Patton and Patton squeezed his hand just a little bit tighter.

“Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten anything in days…”

Roman shook his head and Patton pursed his lips but acquiesced. The Sides didn’t really need to eat, they couldn’t die after all. But still, it was a comfort and eating did have an impact on them, emotionally.

“I jus’ wanna nap,” Roman said with a deep sigh.

“Ok Ro. You can nap, and we’ll stay right here. We’re not going anywhere.” Logan said with a reassuring squeeze of Roman’s leg. Roman nodded and slid down the bed, Patton and Virgil moving with him. Logan stayed where he was, keeping a watchful eye on Princey’s breathing.

Thomas cleared his throat and shot a glance at Logan.

“It looks like you guys got this under control. I’ll come check in in the morning?” Thomas’s expression was open and kind, and Logan was filled with love for him.

“That would be very good, Thomas.”

He nodded and stood slowly, trying not to rock the bed. He gave one last glance at Roman and smiled, before sinking out.

Logan slid up until he was next to Virgil and wrapped an arm around him.

And for the first time in days, Roman felt safe, warm, and was surrounded by his family.

•••

It took weeks to Roman back up to snuff, and the other sides had all worked together to create a neutral bedroom so they could all sleep together. When Virgil woke up one day and Roman’s eyes had returned to their usual brown, he almost started crying. When Patton saw them, he did cry.

Roman had been unwilling to attempt to create anything, even though Logan hypothesized that his color returning meant that his creative block was clearing up.

It...wasn’t actually that bad, shaking up their routine. All three of them loved to dote on Roman, dishing out as much affection as he gave them.

Thomas took a short break from videos, calling Joan to ask their help in editing footage they already had so as to keep any strain off Roman.

•••

Virgil came downstairs three weeks after they had found Roman to the sound of Patton’s humming and cooking. Logan handed him his coffee with a small smile, and Virgil gave him a sleepy one in return. He was about to ask Patton if he knew why Roman wasn’t down yet, when he heard the footsteps of the Creative Side coming down the stairs.

Roman appeared in his usual attire, bright red sash and clean white shirt, his hair styled in a way the others hadn’t seen in weeks. He also had a notebook in his hand.

“Good morning my loves,” He greeted, a beautiful smile on his lips, more genuine than it has been in a long time. Patton squealed and jumped on him before Virgil could protest, but Roman caught him easily and held him up by his legs as he peppered his face with kisses.

Patton giggled and gripped him tighter, wrapping his legs around his waist and pressing his face into his shoulder.

Logan and Virgil watched the display with amusement before Roman gently set Patton down and approached them, greeting them with a kiss.

“It’s wonderful to see you up and about, Roman.” Logan said as Roman slid into his seat.

“It’s wonderful to be up.” Roman set down his notebook and propped his head up on his hand. “Thank you all for what you did. I must admit, it wasn’t the response I was expecting.”

“Roman, there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for you. We love you, and part of loving someone is taking care of them when they need it. I’m just sorry we didn’t get you sooner.” Patton said, taking Roman’s hand in his and squeezing.

Roman nodded back, his eyes looking misty, and dropped his gaze.

Patton kissed the top of his head before turning back to the stove. Roman took a deep breath and opened his notebook, starting to slowly sketch, his movements small and shy.

As the warmth from the mug seeped into his hands and the caffeine kick-started Virgil’s wake up process, he gazed around the kitchen at the people he loved, Patton humming to himself as he whisked eggs, Logan stirring his coffee as he read a book, and Roman lost in his headspace of creativity as he sketched, Virgil smiled.

It was going to be a wonderful day.

[lenfaz]

Sea Squad, ch. 13 (13/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to  FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8  9 10 11 12

Chapter 13

I did something stupid back in the day, lad… and while trying to fix it, I might have uncovered something that I’m not sure if you wanted to know.

Now, we don’t have time and I know everyone thinks I’ll make it. But just in case… if you want to know who you are, Henry… talk to Smee, lad. Tell him to show you what we found out.

Anton’s punch to his gut pulled Killian from his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he grunted and slammed his fist against the floor, holding onto the pain. His face had remained almost unscathed, nothing but a small bruise along his left cheekbone and another on his jaw. As much as he wanted to preserve it completely, he knew Gold wouldn’t buy it if his face was unscathed.

The door opened while he lay on the floor, and Killian closed his eyes for a brief second, playing the part of a beaten-up rival. His hand moved to hold onto his ribs, grunting in pain.

“Get him up,” Gold ordered, and his two goons moved to follow orders, pulling Killian up without any consideration to his possible wounds. Once again, Killian mustered all his energy to play his part. Lifting his head, he met Gold’s eyes. His suit jacket was askew, his shirt untucked, and a couple of buttons were missing. His pants had dust marks all over them. Tilting his head to the side, Killian smiled at Gold, wincing at the very last minute to show pain.

“Gold, I didn’t think you’d grace me with your presence. Not when you had such a wonderful host tending to my every need.” He spat on the floor - a mix of saliva and blood. Anton had been gentle, but the man was a still a half-giant with a steel punch. “Tell me, how is the other fight going? It is as fixed as this one?”

“Did you have a hand in this?” Gold scrutinized his face, his eyes drilling a hole on Killian’s forehead.

“A hand in what?” Killian moved his eyes around room, working to appear as if he were assessing the space. “Your wife? You know I did.”

The punch came from his left, one of Gold’s goons hitting his cheekbone and making Killian see stars. He moved his jaw left and right. He deserved that one, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d say it again if the opportunity arise.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, dearie.” Gold leaned on his cane, his mouth twisting in a grimace. “Did you have a hand in this?”

“Gold, I have no bloody clue what you’re talking about.” Killian spat the words, ensuring he was delivering them with the appropriately frustrated tone. “I’ve been locked up in here, a room with no view I might add, my body getting closely acquainted with the fists of your roughneck.”

Silence stretched between them, feeling the room with a thick air of anticipation as Killian waited and waited some more, his face devoid of any emotion except confusion, pain, and tiredness. He was pulling out all the stops on this one. It would make Nemo proud if he could see him. But alas, no cameras in this room.

Finally, Gold tilted his head, his face contorting into a condescending smile. “Fine. You’re free to go, Mr. Jones.” He moved to address his man. “Show him out. We have work to do.”

Killian made a show of buttoning his shirt back up and tugging at the lapels of his jacket before he made to follow the men out of the room. One more step down, only a few more to go.

He needed to give the delivery of his lifetime and he needed to do it at the appropriate time in the appropriate place.

After all, it was all about the setting.

/-/

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Emma asked the question for what felt like the eleventh time, although it truthfully was only the third or fourth. A duffel bag laid open on the bed and a suitcase already stood by the entrance. Her packing was almost done. She hadn’t brought much - part of always being on the road or on the run meant you got used to living with only carrying the essentials - and she was finishing arranging her toiletries in her bag.

She’d been in Belle’s suite when she’d received the call from Gold. It hadn’t taken her by surprise. The moment the power went out, Emma knew her chances with Gold were gone. And if she were honest with herself, Emma knew the moment she didn’t inform Gold that she’d spotted Killian Jones lurking around his casino, she’d made her choice. And now she had to live with it. Belle had gone with her to Emma’s room and was currently pacing back and forth.

“I don’t want you to get into trouble.” She pulled the sides of her cardigan sweater tight over her frame, averting her eyes.

“I don’t care about being in trouble, Belle.”

“I’m sorry, Emma” Belle was on the verge of tears. “Robert, he sometimes-”

Emma closed the distance between them and laid a comforting hand on Belle’s arm. “Hey, hey. You’re not responsible for what Gold does. Or Liam, or any of them for that matter.” She smiled, an idea coming to her. “Belle why don't’ you come with me? What are you going to do here anyway?” She didn’t want to leave Belle alone - or at the mercy of Gold if he figured out who was behind the robbery. It wasn’t just that she’d promised Killian, it was that Belle didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

Belle shook her head, pursing her lips. “I can’t… not yet. I just I need time to think.”

Emma kept her voice gentle. “Think about what?”

“Whether or not I can trust him again.”

Emma didn’t ask which him Belle meant, because by the frazzled look in her eyes, she wasn’t sure even Belle herself knew. She only knew she couldn’t leave her here in this state.

“How about a cup of tea before I go?” Before Belle had time to protest, Emma shrugged her shoulder. “Look if Gold wants to time my exit and remove me forcefully, so be it. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

Belle pondered her words for a moment before she gave Emma a small smile. “Let me get the Keurig settled.” She stepped out of the bedroom and moved into the living room. Emma quickly shut her duffel bag and grabbed it. She was about to leave the room when her phone rang. The screen read Unknown Number. Her heart beating frantically on her chest, Emma took the call.

“Hello?”

The voice that spoke sounded tiny, like it was far, far away. “Turn to channel 88. Make sure Belle is watching.”

Reaching for the remote, and fearing the worst, Emma turned on the TV. The image on the screen and the little piece of sound she was able to catch had Emma quickly raising her voice as she called for Belle.

“Belle, come here! You might want to ditch the tea and bring some alcohol instead.”

/-/

We’re all set.

Those words were exactly what Killian had been waiting for as he slowly walked down the hallway, dragging his feet a little in an effort to show he’d been beaten to a pulp by Anton.

He lifted his head and spoke into the emptiness ahead of him. “What happened tonight? Did you get robbed or something?”

Gold’s reply from the other side of the hall came almost immediately. “Stop.”

Stopping in his tracks, Killian bent his head as he turned around, hiding his smirk. When he finally looked up, Gold was in his face.

“I am going to give you one more time to come forward, dearie. Where is my money?”

“Are you willing to make a deal for it, Gold?” Killian waited for two seconds, letting the words sink in and peak Gold’s interest. “What if I tell you that you can get your money back if you give up Belle?”

Gold raised his eyebrows and twisted his lips in a grimace. “Belle, huh?”

Killian shrugged. “What can I say? My brother still loves her. They were happy together.” Meeting his eyes directly, Killian dropped the affable mask. “You and I both know the only reason you went after her was because you knew it’d bring my brother pain. And therefore, it would bring me pain.”

Gold didn’t even flinch, his smile turning into something evil and maniac. “Oh yes, I intended to make you suffer. I still do.”

“Careful there. You need me if you want to get your money back. So why don’t we try that again?”

Gold hesitated and Killian knew he was weighing in on his options. Was his hatred for Killian and his family so deep that he’d risk never seeing his hundreds of millions again? Killian wasn’t going to give the man too much time to make a decision. “Do we have a deal, Gold?”

“Fine.” Gold huffed and Killian allowed himself a tiny smile. It would be out of character if he didn’t at least show some satisfaction about one-upping his nemesis.

“I know some people. I made a few new contacts while teaching celebrities to play poker in L.A. Give me a few days, I’ll find out who has your money.”

Gold wasn’t impressed, not in the least. He clenched his jaw and Killian had to bite his tongue to keep the smile off from his face. “I will hunt you down, dearie. This is not over. I can still make you suffer.”

Killian adjusted the lapels of his suit. “That threat got old a few years ago, and you’ve burnt more than your fair share of bridges since then. Especially with the people you’d hired to hunt me down last time. Such a tricky thing, not paying your debts.” Killian paused and shot him a small grin. “And let’s face it, anyone else you can think of hiring to hurt me and my brother like us more than they like you. So unless you’re willing to get your own hands dirty, which we know you aren’t, you’re left with no other choice."

Gold’s eye twitched and for a moment there, Killian thought he was going to punch him. But in the end, he simply gave Killian a dark look before turning to one of his security guards. “Call the police. Alert them of Liam Jones possibly breaking his parole, as I’m sure he’s nearby, and turn Mr. Jones here into their custody. He was acting suspiciously on casino grounds.”

Well, that was nothing that a little charm and some bail money couldn’t fix. And Killian had both in spades now. He let the guard walk him to the casino lobby. As he was being escorted, the ding of the elevator made him turn his head just in time to see Emma and Belle quickly making their way out of the hotel, carrying a suitcase and travel bag between them. They were close to the entrance when Ursula approached them.

As he waited for the police to show up, Killian couldn’t hide his smile. Belle and Emma clearly had gotten the message.

All was well.

Almost.

[meditativeyoga]

Change Your Stress Response

Meet Mark: When something difficult happens, he really feels invigorated. His heart races, his detects heighten-- he even feels as though his ideas accelerate. Mark prides himself on his ability to deal with problems head-on, but he confesses that it's coming to be challenging to transform this strength off. Lately he's been really feeling more on side compared to in addition to his game. He's created headaches as well as sleep problems, and he's starting to wonder if they're connected to anxiety. He wants to really feel much better, yet he can't envision himself transforming his full-throttle strategy to life. Without tension, how would he ever get anything done?

Mark's spouse, Sue, doesn't feel energized by tension-- it tires her. She feels so diminished by stress and anxiety that she's started to reduce on the important things that produce one of the most tension, such as planning huge family gatherings. To keep her calmness, she attempts to walk away when conflicts arise. She's also thinking about leaving her difficult work to discover something much less intense. Take legal action against happily sees in herself the ability to 'just allow points go,' which she's been cultivating through her yoga practice.

But despite the fact that she's streamlined her life, she's been really feeling depressed. She has an irritating sensation that her attempts to be tension cost-free are obtaining in the method of totally living her life.

Mark as well as Sue are personalities based on actual individuals, as well as are developed to stand for two genuine actions to anxiety-- one or both of which might appear familiar to you. As Mark and also Sue are finding, tension is inevitable, but it is additionally paradoxical: While excess stress can take a toll on you, the really points that create it are typically the very same things that make life rewarding as well as complete. Take a moment to think of the stress in your life: family, job, having way too much to do. Currently imagine a life without those things. Sound suitable? Not likely. Lots of people do not desire an empty life, they intend to possess the skills to take care of a hectic as well as, yes, also made complex life.

The excellent information is that you could develop ways to browse via tension to make sure that it isn't really troubling and traumatic every which way. When a stress factor develops, you do not have to go to extremes the way Mark as well as Sue do. You can find out to respond with simply the appropriate mix of internal fire and internal calmness. I call this the 'challenge action,' and you can create it through your yoga technique. In reality, studies suggest that yoga could problem the nerve system to bring you right into balance whether you require more tranquil, like Mark, or more fire, like Sue. Include in that yoga's capacity to transform your mental assumption of stress, and you could transform your whole experience of the feared's' word. Picture feeling qualified of managing whatever life throws at you, without having to stress, overreact, or prepare your departure strategy.

Stress Lessons

To begin altering the means you react to tension, you'll need to comprehend how it usually impacts the body. If your mind interprets a demanding event as an emergency hazard, it causes an instant action in the free nerves. Your tension feedback begins as well as activates the thoughtful nerves (SNS). Your body is flooded with hormones like cortisol and norepinephrine, which heighten the senses, boost heart price as well as high blood pressure, and also concentrate the mind's task. The parasympathetic nervous system (PNS), which is liable for physical relaxation and psychological calm, becomes overloaded by this sympathetic action. With the understanding nerve system accountable and the parasympathetic overwhelmed, you are primed to respond with energy and also emphasis, however additionally with temper, stress and anxiety, as well as aggression.

Humans established this primal response, called fight-or-flight, so they might effectively combat off or flee from dangerous danger. This essential survival mechanism works when you require to knock on the brakes to protect against an automobile accident or flee from an attacker. But it's excessive for a lot of the disputes as well as difficulties we deal with day to day.

While it's easy to view life's troubles as a danger to your expectations, feeling of control, or perfects, it's better for your health and wellness to toughen up that understanding as well as instead see each stressor as a difficulty you can deal with. Also if an emergency situation exists completely in your creative imagination, or if the threat is just to your feelings, it can still cause the fight-or-flight stress cycle. With time chronic stress takes a toll on the body as well as brain, leading to all kinds of wellness troubles, including sleeping disorders, depression, persistent discomfort, and cardio disease.

Challenge Your Fight-or-Flight Response

The alternative to a knock-down, drag-out, fight-or-flight anxiety action is the difficulty reaction. The challenge feedback allows you to satisfy a demanding minute with specifically just what is required: initially, the capability to see a situation plainly, and also second, the abilities to react without becoming overloaded. If Mark can do this, he would not experience stress-related migraines or sleeping disorders. And if Sue can do this, she would not really feel the need to hide when things obtain hairy.

When anxiety strikes and also you engage the difficulty action, your nerve system will respond differently. To understand exactly how, visualize that the free nerves resembles a faucet. The knob that controls the warm water stands for the understanding nervous system, as well as the chilly knob stands for the parasympathetic. When you enter into fight-or-flight setting, it's as though you crank up the scalding-hot water and transform the cold water down to a mere drip. If you establish the challenge reaction, the warm water remains to run as it normally would, and also you transform down the cold water just a bit. Simply puts, you have simply enough heat to face the stress factor, yet you haven't totally removed the cooling influence. Once the difficulty is effectively met, the parasympathetic nerves reasserts itself (that is, the cold water increases), bringing you back to your daily state of balance.

Bradley Appelhans, PhD, an assistant professor at the College of Arizona College of Medicine that researches exactly how the body reacts to stress, emphasizes the value of the parasympathetic nerves in leading the obstacle reaction. 'When we typically aren't worried, the PNS works as a brake on our physical stimulation. In times of obstacle, we depend on our PNS to quickly remove the brake, so that we can achieve the state of raised psychological and also physical arousal had to manage stress. We additionally rely on the PNS to keep that stimulation under control, and not let the fight-or-flight response manifest in full pressure.'

In other words, if you usually handle stress and anxiety well, your parasympathetic worried system, not your supportive, supervises of raising arousal as well as readying you to face your stressor. That could seem like a minor detail, yet the effects for the mind and also body are substantial. It's like the difference between a pet dog walker expanding the chain of her dog to enable even more freedom and the canine breaking devoid of the leash and running amok. When the PNS draws back, allowing for simply adequate SNS involvement to sufficiently handle the obstacle, you have the ability to act without an overstated, unhealthy fight-or-flight reaction. The mind focuses, however it also stays open sufficient to see alternative remedies as well as opportunities.

The Heart of the Challenge

There is a technique for gauging just how well one's free worried system replies to day-to-day, nonemergency anxiety. It's called heart-rate variability, and it reveals whether the SNS or the PNS supervises of exactly how a person responds to stress.

Scientists have actually long known that with every inhalation, the nerves changes a bit towards sympathetic activation, as well as the heart defeats quicker. With every exhalation, it shifts towards parasympathetic -activation, and the heart defeats a lot more slowly. Individuals whose heart price differs widely in between inhalation and exhalation are stated to have high heart-rate -variability-- which is an advantage. It suggests that the nerves has the flexibility to go from an engaged or aroused state to a loosened up state swiftly, as well as that the SNS does not have unhealthy control over the body. High heart-rate variability-- both at remainder and despite stress and anxiety-- is taken into consideration a sign of a person's physical as well as emotional durability. Reduced heart-rate variability is related to a boosted threat of stress-related conditions such as heart disease and also depression.

Mark is a classic instance of someone that has reduced heart-rate irregularity. He is stuck in a state of persistent thoughtful activation in his everyday life, which decreases the flexibility of his heart rate. When he experiences stress, his SNS goes also better into overdrive, in part since it is out of balance and unattended by the PNS. For somebody like Mark, constructing the difficulty response will suggest re-training his mind and also body to let the parasympathetic system be in cost while he goes to remainder, and also at some point when he responds to stress and anxiety, too.

Sue is able to relax-- however only if she disengages from life's stressors. She requires to develop the capacity to obtain terminated up enough to fulfill a difficulty without sensation entirely overwhelmed by it.

A expanding body of study on heart-rate irregularity and also yoga exercise gives proof that the method could help individuals like Mark and also File a claim against in their pursuit for much healthier anxiety responses. One of the very first studies was carried out at Newcastle University in England and also released in 1997 in the European Journal of Professional Investigation. Researchers discovered that six weeks of exercising hatha yoga raised the activation of the parasympathetic anxious system (the soothing side) without decreasing the influence of the supportive (the exciting side). Scientists took 26 healthy yet inactive adults and also randomly split them into two groups. One group was offered a cardio exercise program, the various other a yoga exercise regimen that consisted of two 90-minute sessions weekly with breathing, presents, and relaxation. In the week adhering to the six-week treatment, the yoga participants were reported to have higher heart-rate irregularity (and also a reduced relaxing heart rate, an additional sign of wellness) after the research than in the past. The aerobics group showed no substantial changes.

A second research study, done by researchers at the College of Schleswig-Holstein in Germany and also published in 2007 in the journal Evidence-Based Complementary and Different Medicine, recommends that also a single session of yoga exercise method can urge the worried system to discover adaptability and balance. Scientist linked 11 healthy and balanced yoga exercise experts to tools that recorded their heart-rate irregularity over 1 Day. Throughout that time, individuals did 60 minutes of active Iyengar Yoga presents and also 30 mins of corrective presents. Heart-rate irregularity increased during the yoga exercise session, as well as-- as in the previous research study-- this modification was owned by the increased influence of the parasympathetic nervous system, not by modifications to the sympathetic system.

In various other words, after yoga exercise practice, participants just weren't simply much more kicked back, they were in a state of autonomic equilibrium and also flexibility driven by the parasympathetic-- which is specifically the sort of balance as well as flexibility that predicts better strength to tension. This research study provides appealing proof that a yoga practice can prepare you to fulfill life's challenges, not simply recover from them.

Tapping into Calm

How do we discuss why participants in the aerobics team really did not derive the very same advantage as the individuals that learned yoga? Better yet, how do we clarify the outcomes from the research that was based on a single session of Iyengar Yoga?

Kerstin Khattab, MD, an Iyengar Yoga educator as well as among the scientists in the Schleswig-Holstein research study, thinks that the secret is yoga's twin demands on body and also mind. 'Some of the presents in our study, such as Dhanurasana (Bow Pose) or Sirsasana (Headstand), are most likely to cause a solid considerate nerve system reaction. As you find out to hold these poses with a calm mind, concentrating on the breath, the positions end up being a training in exactly how to continue to be tranquil in demanding scenarios.'

In various other words, the physical challenge of a pose comes to be the matching of a stressor. If you do aerobics, which has no straight breathing or mindfulness component, the physical difficulty could activate a full-fledged stress feedback in the body. However when physical needs are met mindfulness and stable breathing, as they remain in yoga, the nerve system reacts in a different way: It keeps activation while keeping an underlying feeling of calm. It continues to be skillfully involved however without going into full-fledged fight-or-flight mode.

The fantastic sage and also codifier of yoga, Patanjali, have to have know the power of asana when he composed sutra 2:46, Sthira sukham asanam: Poses must symbolize solidity as well as convenience. If you can find both elements in the midst of a stressful arm equilibrium, you're not just educating your mind. You're enabling your free nerves to imprint that response as well as a result enable you to go back to it during daily stress.

At initially, you will certainly require to very knowingly use this reaction during your yoga technique by concentrating on your breathing and also ideas. With enough conscious practice, the rehearsed challenge reaction could come to be an embedded automated reaction-- on as well as off the mat.

Yoga likewise trains the worried system to return to balance swiftly after a challenge action. By rotating exhausting poses with gentler ones, yoga exercise problems you to move easily in between states of difficulty as well as rest. Releasing all effort in Savasana (Remains Posture), for instance, seals in this adaptability, since the pose instructs the nerves to let go once the challenges of your technique have actually been met.

Leave your Comfort Zone

Just revealing up to any yoga exercise class is not sufficient. If your tension style has a tendency towards fight-or-flight, as well as you puff your method through Power Yoga courses and also leave previously Savasana, you probably won't transform your stress and anxiety action. Exercising in this way just makes yoga exercise one more field where you engage in your common stress-response design. For people who move via life completely emergency situation mode, the starting location to learn balance is generally Savasana. This pose educates you exactly how to put the typically subdued parasympathetic nerve system in fee and offer the hypercharged considerate anxious system a rest.

When among my students, Monica Hanson, initially involved yoga, she was a self-described type-An executive in her very early 30s. The suggestion of relaxation was scary, and she can not visualize exactly how relaxing could perhaps assist her manage real-world stress and anxiety. 'I was terrified that if I allow go of the stress, I would crumble,' she states. 'Tension was the glue that held me with each other.'

Her initial experience in Savasana was anything however relaxing. Her emergency action dealt with to remain in control. 'I was sweating and also drinking. My heart was racing. I intended to escape,' she states. Yet below the anxiety was a feeling of being totally to life but tranquil-- something that Hanson had never ever felt prior to. This preference of exactly how her mind and also body might hold such revers was the beginning of her stress transformation.

After 7 years of constant yoga exercise practice, Hanson says tension is not what holds her together in stressful circumstances. Rather, she can really feel the calm underneath the tornado also if she still she obtains the desire to deal with or run. 'Yoga exercise has actually instructed me a whole new method of being. In difficult situations, I have actually heard my teacher's voice in my head say, 'Be existing. Infuse the stress. And also I do.'

Stay in your Experience

For a person like Sue, who easily finds happiness in relaxation yet stays clear of tension, creating the capacity to stay existing during difficult situations-- however without trying to deal with against or leave from them-- is crucial. As opposed to trying to hide from challenges, Sue needs to learn to think she can handle them. As Amy Weintraub, founder of LifeForce Yoga Recovery Institute and also the writer of Yoga exercise for Anxiety, places it, 'Occasionally it is very important to not simply eliminate ourselves from the difficult circumstance, however to feel it in our bodies. Acknowledge tension. Satisfy it. We can remain existing without being managed by it.'

For among my pupils, Julie Good, a 38-year-old doctor and mommy of two girls, the terrific instructor was Eka Pada Rajakapotasana (One-Legged King Pigeon Posture). When she first started yoga, it was her the very least favorite pose. 'My technique was to grit my teeth and also tolerate it, strained my whole body, as well as attempt to hold myself up off the flooring.' Her resistance was an attempt to stay clear of the extreme feeling in her hip, the effect was rather different. 'It was agonizing.'

One day, when Good clarified why she disliked Pigeon Pose, I urged her to quit combating it. Excellent states, 'I had actually been attempting to shield myself by withstanding. I thought, 'If I release, it's going to obtain even worse.' However I allow go, as well as it improved. When I wasn't withstanding, I learned to infuse the pain.' By remaining with the posture, she discovered that she could opt to stay in a tight spot as well as the discomfort would dissipate.

Find Your Fire

To really feel empowered to deal with tension head-on, File a claim against likewise needs backup from her nerve system. She needs extra involvement from the understanding worried system, she needs the power and also drive that the exciting side gives. A brand-new pilot research study published in Evidence-Based Complementary and Alternative Medicine reveals that yoga exercise might help facilitate this kind of response.

Researchers at the College of The golden state at L.a located that a normal yoga method decreased the dominance of the parasympathetic system for some individuals. There was a vital distinction in this research: The 17 grownup individuals were all medically dispirited. The participants exercised Iyengar Yoga exercise three times a week for eight weeks. At the end of the study, 11 individuals remained in remission from depression. The 6 others did not fully recover.

When researchers contrasted the participants' heart-rate variability before and also after the eight-week intervention, those that had recovered showed a little rise in understanding activation and a decline in parasympathetic influence. Scientists think it's possible that yoga practice aided the participants shift from a withdrawal from life to energetic interaction. This change was shown in-- as well as may have been triggered by-- the modification in the nerves's balance.

The point of all these studies? According to David Shapiro, a teacher of psychology at UCLA, 'Yoga exercise assists stabilize both systems as needed by each individual.' That indicates that if you go through life in emergency mode, yoga will actually awaken your leisure system. But if you have a propensity to come to be paralyzed when faced with challenges, yoga could function to shift your mind and body towards energetic engagement.

Study Yourself

Keep in mind that no matter how well you problem your worried system, you likewise need to change the method you view stress. You can begin this process by exercising svadhyaya, or self-observation. 'There is a connection in between just how you experience an ahead bend and how you react to the world,' states Elissa Cobb, a Phoenix metro Climbing Yoga exercise professional as well as the writer of The Forgotten Body. Take Paschimottanasana (Sittinged Ahead Bend), a posture that can create solid experiences in even one of the most versatile practitioners.

One common reaction is to neglect sensations and also force yourself ahead, combating versus your limited hamstrings. Another is to come from the posture to stay clear of the obstacle completely. Both techniques are variations on the same theme: fight-or-flight. In all probability, they create tense muscular tissues and rapid or had breathing-- in addition to a complete lack of joy.

Paying focus on exactly how your body as well as mind respond to the 'tension' of Paschimottanasana or any kind of pose offers hints about exactly how you generally respond to stress and anxiety in your life. By training yourself to proactively observe while remaining calm in poses, you'll be able to do the same point when difficult feelings, ideas, or feelings emerge when faced with stress and anxiety. Instead of entering into your habitual reaction mode, you'll see exactly what's occurring while staying existing adequate to select a suitable response.

When it involves changing your very own response to stress, it's alluring to search for that one present or taking a breath workout that will work its magic. However there isn't one magic pose. The procedure is a gradual exploration instead of a very easy option. 'If you're practicing yoga daily, you're planning for exactly what life brings. You don't have to have a method for just what yoga exercise strategy you'll make use of in a tight spot.' According to Weintraub, when difficulties show up, they will begin to stream with you but not bewilder you. 'When life strikes, it doesn't blow up or roll over us. We're not so captured up in the stress of it, but we exist for it.'

This is the real story of exactly how yoga can assist you handle anxiety. It doesn't just give ways to melt via tension or getaway from it. It doesn't just supply stress-reduction strategies for distressed minutes. It goes much deeper, transforming how the mind as well as body without effort react to stress. Equally as the body could learn a brand-new standing posture that ultimately becomes deep-rooted, so the mind could learn new idea patterns, and also the worried system can find out new means of responding to stress and anxiety. The result: When you roll up your floor covering and leave the door, you could extra masterfully handle whatever life brings.

[ruslanalekseev]

Was Hiruzen a Good Hokage?

No. As many people have already pointed out, Hiruzen was very indecisive, and he always did what his advisors told him to. Which wouldnt be that bad, if not the fact that almost every single one of their decisions were suggested to them by Danzo.

Hiruzen might have had good intentions, but good intentions wont do you much good, if:You orchestrate the massacre of one of the founding clans in your village. You dont react to bullying towards the villages probably most valuable shinobi.You cant even bring yourself to killing one of the greatest criminals from your village

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What if a gay person was elected as the POTUS?

We have already had a gay President. James Buchanan Jr. was the 15th President (18571861) He was a member of the Democratic Party.

The only president to remain a bachelor, Buchanan's personal life has attracted great historical interest. Buchanan had a close and intimate relationship with William Rufus King, an Alabama politician. Buchanan and King lived together in a Washington boardinghouse for many years, from 1834 until King's departure for France in 1844.

King referred to the relationship as a "communion", and the two attended social functions together. Contemporaries also noted the closeness. Andrew Jackson called King "Miss Nancy" and prominent Democrat Aaron V.

Brown referred to King as Buchanan's "better half", "wife" and "Aunt Fancy"

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How did Canada manage to control COVID 19 so well despite its shared border with the US?

When doctors and scientists here in Canada told us that the COVID-19 virus would not only kill some people, but others who contracted the disease might suffer permanent damage to organs and body systems, we listened and became afraid. Then, when it was shown some young children also suffered devastating organ failures, we knew we must all do what we can to protect ourselves and others.

We didnt each need to personally know someone who has been so affected, we just imagined how our own actions could cause this result. For some reason, Americans do not seem to feel that same empathy for their fellow citizens. Tragic and sad

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What is the significance of WhatsApp for Facebook?

Why did Facebook acquire WhatsApp at such a hefty price of $19 billion?

Let us think about it. Say you are talking to your girlfriemd and you decide to go for a movie coming weekend.

It is not a big information for you. But for facebook it is a priceless piece of information. Since it they know now that you ar going to the movie they will project all the ads that is pertaining to movie going.

. Hence facebook achieves a greater accuracy of targeted ads. And hence 19Billion dollars.

Also facebook knows everything about you except your messages to your intimate people. Now that they bought whatsapp they literally know everything about you to sell you out when the time comes.

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Will Joe Biden be worse than Trump?

Worse at what? I guess it depends on what you value and what you place importance on. If youre a Republican partisan it doesnt matter what Biden does itll be worse than Trump.

If youre a Democrat partisan it doesnt matter what Biden does because itll be better than Trump. If youre an independent youll recognize that all Presidents have pluses and minuses. Theyll do things at annoy you and things youll applaud.

I didnt vote for Trump in 16 and hes done things I despise and things I applaud. I didnt vote for Obama either time and he did thinks I liked and things I hated

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Do many Chinese people hate Fujianese people?

I don't know where did you get this view.

In college, I had a roommate coming from Fujian who is an authentic, courteous, helpful person with lots of computer's knowledge. Every time our computers occur in problems, our first thought is to seek for his help not to go maintenance store straightly because of its expensive charge. There are a few Fujianese.

as far as I'm concerned, They all good person through conversation and cooperation. But, I can't say Fujianese all good people since I had met all good Fujianese. In working with people, The significant thing We need to do is giving our sincere heart to them.

Similarly, you will be rewarded for your sowing.

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How old should a kid be before seeing Deadpool?

FWIW, the airline cut is devoid of *all* sexual content (to the point of blurring out the slight glimpse of butt-crack visible in the opening credits, as well as losing the Stan Lee cameo), but I dont believe they removed *any* of the violence or swearing.

What a country!As for child-appropriateness, it depends on the child. I was OK with my kid seeing the airline cut because he never swears and he doesnt like gory violence (it wasnt too gruesome on my 5 phone screen).

Other kids his age may not be able to handle this material. Heck, I know adults who wouldnt do so well with this material

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How can we stop people from throwing garbage in the empty plots?

Please know that if people throw biodegradable garbage only in an empty plot after removing all plastics and dry wastes, you are actually replenishing the ground.

This will improve vegetation of the plot.The second approach is to promote home composting and community composting. This can happen only if there is source segregation.

Third approach is to penalize through a law.Instal leaves composter in the entrance of the plot and encourage people to deposit the dried leaves into it. Many aesthetically good looking composters are available.

The process is very simple and no stink involved.Be creative and you will have many more options. Cheers.

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Could we derive energy from gravity in space?

You mean free flowing gravity? Yes.

Look at a grandfather clock and see the weights it has to keep it going. Except for dams most of the ways are small but all together make up huge amounts. You could use the same clock system method with a much larger counter weight and just by hand moving it back up daily to the top would generate constant power.

In other words you could produce huge amounts of potential power by a little daily hand labor.Now you got me wondering if there is a natural limit it this because it is not being done or that people are just lazy in not doing this

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How will the GOP change if Trump loses to Biden?

I dont think they will change at all, at least in the short term.

Trumps presidency has done one useful thing - exposed the corrupt innards of the Democratic party, and the Republicans, with or without Trump, are going to want to follow through on things, especially when the Durham report comes out. Trump has also shown how to do things economically, such that even Biden wants to plagiarize him. Theres been absolutely nothing wrong with his policies.

They were working great prior to the pandemic and theres no reason to think they wont work again when things finally get back to normal

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Who is the best teacher for sociology for the UPSC optional preparation in Delhi?

Hello there .I am a Civil engineer , who did not have any prior knowledge about sociology .

I was an expressive person and with the suggestions of friends , I chose sociology as my optional .I went to Pranay Aggarwal Sir and that was the best decision I made . Reasons :-He took classes in small batches with led me to focus more on the subject .

He is very interactive which makes sociology come out very naturally from oneself .He is very helpful and extremely accepting of different ideas which gave me confidence and started loving the subject . His notes are all encompassing and I can vouch for it

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Why was Paul Manafort sent to prison?

This just reported by NY Times:Banker Accused of Arranging $16 Million in Loans to Manafort to Gain High-Level Trump PostA banker in Chicago has been changed with trying to buy an appointment as Treasury Secretary. He arranged $16 million in loans to Paul Mafort. I dont know if the prosecutors knew about that alleged crime when Manafort was sent to prison.

This news certainly speaks to what kind of person Manafort is. It continues to astound me how corrupt Trump is that he picks people like Manafort. How can Trump voters have been so clueless to have voted for this narcissistic(oops, I better restrain myself).

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Why was the Roman Empire so successful?

the roman empire was successful in its government form.it probably had the most advanced government in ancient times, a republic which represent each of the classes in society.

Outsiders or barbarians could also aspire to gain citizenship if they work hard enough, slaves could gain or buy their freedom. This makes roman empire have a equal opportunity system similar to the american dream.But things slowly deteriorated once ceasar become dictator for life, or sulla and marius trying to monopolize power through using the military triumphs.

It lead to rise of emperors and rulers not acccountable to the public, and right to rule slowly degenerate into hereditary succession or military coup.

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Did the music of led Zeppelin change your life?

Yes!

As does every song does, some more than others. The Rain Song played while I was enjoying the company of a young lady I met on Manhattan Beach as I was coming out the ocean, exhausted from surfing for 5 hours. I collapsed on my board and was laying there taking in the scene when this beautiful blonde girl with curly hair, piercing blue eyes, and a body of a Black girl, blocked the sun, looked down and said are you ok?

. That was the beginning of summer of 91 and we had fun. Especially the night we spent in a motel on the beach, listening to led Zeppelin

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Who is the most under appreciated American president?

Adams greatest war president in our nations history.When almost everyone in the young country wanted war with France egged on by that snake Jefferson. Adams held back, he understood war was not necessary would be destructive and would cripple the country for decades, he also well understood his stand would likely cost him his reelection but he stood firm.

The country did not go to war but he did loose his office. Such a shame the country remembers the man who did his most noble service as a citizen under an English king and not the man who formed the nation after the Revolutionary War

------

Why did you leave Hinduism for Islam?

People group or regroup into religion for rudimentary security reasons, not due to any love for a religion.

Any person who understands the first alphabet of any religion will know the purpose of religion is to help and serve the society he or she lives selflessly, particularly those who donu2019t follow his/her beliefs and faith has to be served, loved and cared.If someone thinks that his/her religious group is better than the other, it discredit the fundamental first alphabet of the religion. Islam, Hinduism or any religion in the world, if it is practiced by grouping and subgrouping its practioners, it is deplorably divisive for the society and in general human welfare

------

In WW2 during the Battle of France, why did it take so long for France to surrender?

Why didn't France surrender earlier?

France waited so that the English could be evacuated from Dunkirk. They held the German back while the small boats could get in and get the boys home.

Then they had a resistance to organise not easy when you have a whole lot of tanks running over your toes. Finally, the Italians decided to pop in for a late entry in the game of conquest so they had them to send packing. Then they surrendered.

That is to say the French Government surrendered, the French people on the other hand fought on.If you have ever seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail, you see just how ferocious the French can be in their taunting of opponents.

[biscuitreviews]

Biscuit Reviews: Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE

WARNING: This review will contain some plot spoilers from the first five hours of the game and some areas near the end. I will place this discussion near the end of the review so that you may read about the other aspects of the game. I will also place another warning label within the review when I get ready to discuss this aspect.

Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE (will refer to as #FE from here on) is a turn-based JRPG that combines elements of the Shin Megami Tensei series and the Fire Emblem series to create a unique experience for fans of both titles. You don’t need play games from either series to enjoy #FE. If you however, played games from both series, there are plenty of small little references and nods from both for fans to enjoy.

The story of game opens with an opera performance. Fire Emblem fans will immediately notice that the song being performed is the main theme of the Fire Emblem series. During the performance, dark forces begin to make the audience and performers disappear and the only survivor, is one lone girl, whom is the sister of one of the performers.

Fast-forward to five years from that night and you take on the role of Itsuki Aoi, who is attending a singing competition to support his friend, Tsubasa Oribe, the girl who survived the mass disappearance mentioned earlier. The same dark forces from the night five years ago attack the singing competition looking for Performa. Performa is within everyone, it is an energy that allows people to pursue their dreams.

During the attack, Tsubasa is taken into the Idolasphere, a dimension that is home to beings known as Mirages. These Mirages are who you will be up against throughout the game. However, not all Mirages are evil, some are good and are willing to help you throughout your fight. When Itsuki finally catches up to Tsubasa, he also rescues two of the Mirages, Chrom and Caeda from the Fire Emblem series. Itsuki and Tsubasa fuse with Chrom and Caeda and fight off the Mirages and escape the Idolasphere.

Later, their friend Touma catches up with them and sees that both Itsuki and Tsubasa have become Mirage Masters, just like him. Touma then take his friends to Fortuna Entertainment, a talent agency that investigates Mirage attacks. Itsuki and Tsubasa decide to join as Itsuki wants to support his friends and Tsubasa wants to try to find the whereabouts of her sister.

As you’re exploring the various places of the Idolasphere, you’ll be traversing dungeons with light puzzle solving and fighting Mirages. The Mirages will appear on the field and you can choose to fight them, stun them for a potential first strike, or run away. Once you make contact with a Mirage the battle will begin. The battle system for #FE is probably the most fun I have ever had with any JRPG battle system. Using the weapon triangle to determine weakness made famous by the Fire Emblem series, and the Shin Megami Tensei magic system where certain spells do major damage to an enemy depending on their weaknesses and resistances.

Once you hit a enemy with a weakness, a combo attack known as a Session immediately takes action. These Sessions are follow-up attacks to do even more damage to the enemy you targeted. As you perform these Sessions, you’ll gain little bonuses such as collecting Performa, which I will discuss what it is used for shortly, items, and money.  There’s even an ability that all of your party members can learn that will allow them to perform a Session attack, even if they are not in your immediate party. This is great as not only does it do more damage to enemies, but it allow all your party members contribute to the fight.

The abilities mentioned earlier can be learned through the Unity System. You will be visiting an area within the Fortuna Entertainment office known as the Bloom Palace. Here, you will perform two different types of Unity Rituals, Carnage Unity and Radiant Unity. Carnage Unity allows you to create weapons for your characters. These weapons are what allow your characters to learn skills and spells they use in battle. This gives incentive to use every possible weapons to learn additional battle skills or even power up skills you already know. Radiant Unity allows your characters to learn passive skills such as being able to participate in sessions even if not in the immediate party, as mentioned earlier, increase damage for certain types of skills, and learn resistances.

This system is perhaps one of #FEs faults. In order to keep improving your characters, you will have to leave the dungeon and go to the Bloom Palace to gain these skills and make new weapons to learn additional skills. This can get annoying having to backtrack just to learn a new skill or make a new weapon just to even get further in the dungeon. What’s more aggravating as how this is necessary if you wish to survive in the deeper areas of the dungeons.

One of the interesting decisions I found is the lack of an English dub. In an interview with GameSpot, Nintendo Designer and Producer of #FE Hitoshi Yamagami stated that:

“...because the essence of this game lies in songs. When you listen to a song from overseas, people mostly listen to it in the original language. People who listen to Japanese music overseas would most likely hear it in the original Japanese. In this title, the voice actors who sing the songs also do the voices of the characters. (The voice and the songs sung by a character are played by the same voice actor.) In order to take full advantage of this characteristic, we thought it better not to dub the voices.”

It’s the creative decision that I believe adds more authenticity to the overall nature of the game, especially the importance music plays in #FE’s plot. Here’s a link to where I got the quote from as well as the full interview about other development decisions regarding #FE: https://www.gamespot.com/articles/tokyo-mirage-sessions-fe-team-talks-atlus-localiza/1100-6441341/

Now, I’m getting ready to discuss the spoiler section of the game. From here on, I will discuss plot spoilers, issues with the character motivations of Itsuki and Tsubasa, and pacing of the overall story itself.

As mentioned earlier, Tsubasa is the sole survivor of a massive disappearance. Her motivations to become a singing Japanese Pop Idol are driven to uncover the mysteries of what transpired on that night in order to locate her sister. By the end of Chapter 1, not only has Tsubasa released her first big break as an Idol, but she’s found her sister and rescued her as well. This is the first major connection and motivation the player will have for the game and it’s all resolved in the first chapter. The current state of the other characters have no relation to the overall plot. There’s really no reason for the player to be further invested in the story or keep playing for that matter as there’s no more personal stake for either of the characters.

On the topic of motivations, Itsuki, the character you play as, doesn’t really have any. His only motivation is to help his friends. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just very bland. He’s also devoid of any personal wants and any connection he has to plot doesn’t happen until much later in the game. Also, he’s not even the focal point of the story, Tsubasa is. The bond between player and character would have been stronger if Tsubasa was the main character, rather than Itsuki.

Finally the pacing of the game. It’s incredibly slow and takes a long time to finally get going. The beginning has a great hook to keep you intrigued. However, once Chapter 1 ends, there’s no further developments of the game’s plot until the beginning of Chapter 5. For reference, this game has a prologue, six chapters, and an epilogue. So Chapter 2 to Chapter 4, you’re essentially playing filler. You can argue that the characters themselves are growing to become better artist in their craft, but watching them grow feels void as their connection to the conflict feels equally empty. This doesn’t give the player a reason to care about said growth until the previously mentioned Chapter 5.

#FE has many great development and presentation decisions as well as fun gameplay. But, the characters and story, two things that I personally consider to be the foundation any RPG, could not support the other great things this title had to offer.

Tokyo Mirage Session #FE gets a 6/10

Image from the Nintendo Everything Press Kit: http://nintendoeverything.com/tokyo-mirage-sessions-fe-screenshots-and-press-release/

[eiznel]

It’s Fine

Summary: It’s not. 

Note: An EXTREMELY late entry for the milkman/housewife writer’s challenge. It was supposed to be smut, but it became decidedly NOT smut. Might be a secondary chapter later that includes smut.

Rating: M for mention of abuse, thoughts on suicide, and just heavy shit in general. light fluff, brief mention of sex

Pairing: Papyrus x Sans , Stretch x Sans

Ao3: Here

Sans sighed softly as he watched the milkman walk down the path leading away his door, a spring in his step. When he reached his truck, he turned and waved at Sans, grinning so widely his eyesockets squeezed shut. Sans lifted a hand and nudged it to the side in a poor approximate of a wave in return. No matter how much he relished the other skeleton’s bi-weekly visits, he loathed spending more energy than was necessary. He sighed softly again, clutching the jar of milk in his hands a little tighter. It was warm outside, even so early in the day, and the coolness of the glass felt amazing against his bones. The perspiration on its surface gathered, beading and being pulled down by gravity to gather on the sides of his fingers. It wasn’t until the truck was out of sight that Sans turned and walked back into the empty shell that was his home.

It wasn’t to say that the house was unfurnished, no – in fact, it was furnished quite well, if not a little sloppily (housewife was he, but orderly and clean was he not) – but it felt devoid of life to him. Maybe because it was usually just him. He didn’t blame his husband, Stretch. The days at the research institute just seemed to grow longer and longer, and Stretch usually was only home long enough to eat, shower, and sleep. It seemed to take a toll on him, his attitude with Sans growing more distanced. He was just distracted, Sans figured. It was fine.

‘no, no it’s not!’ his mind insisted.

…perhaps not. He wasn’t sure what had changed. Stretch used to come home somewhat energized – at least, as energized as Stretch could be – talking about his work, his coworkers, his boss, anything that came to mind, and Sans would get into it, asking questions and presenting ideas of his own.

Despite his occupation as a stay-at-home wife, Sans was brilliant in his own right, self-taught in astro and quantum physics, chaos theory, and physical chemistry. He couldn’t rightly explain why he loved the subjects so much, but he’d wanted to know, and his position in life didn’t allow him the luxury of college. It was shortly before he was of legal age that Sans found himself homeless, no longer able to tolerate the abuse of his legal guardian, Gaster. He refused to acknowledge the monster as his father, for he acted like anything but, insulting and scorning Sans when he wasn’t ignoring him, striking him when Sans annoyed him, which had begun to grow a little too often for Sans’s liking. He ran after Gaster broke his arm in a rare fit of true temper, and the monster had never gone looking for him. The subsequent years found him bouncing from job to job until he was legal age, and then he worked three minimum wage jobs to support himself. Any spare moment was dedicated to reading, losing himself in numbers and theories. It was the same material Gaster had studied, and a much younger, much more naïve Sans had picked it up in an attempt to impress him, to bond. The bond had never taken, but the love of the material had.

That was around the time Stretch found him, or perhaps when he’d found Stretch. The tall skeleton had been idly poring over his class notes, looking bored out of his mind at the restaurant Sans worked at. Sans had glanced at the notes and instantly been intrigued, sifting through the information he’d already learned. His softly spoken question had snapped Stretch out of reading the same sentence for the fiftieth time, and he’d blinked stupidly, prompting Sans to snort in laughter and repeat himself. Sans began seeing more of Stretch after that initial conversation, eventually leading to dating and marriage, with a firm, impassioned promise from Stretch that he’d never have to work again.

Stretch had been different then, laid back but enthusiastic at times, sociable and kind. He might still be that way, Sans mused, but he had no way of knowing with how distracted and deflective he was.

(‘how was your day?’ ‘Just fine, dear,’ accompanied with a thoughtless pat on the head as he moved past.) Sans had tried asking if anything was wrong, but was assured that things were peachy-keen and he had nothing to worry about. And so to ignore the old demons that were clawing at his soul, and the sinking feeling that he was losing his life partner, he returned to his books, once more throwing aside his real life for numbers and theories.

Then Papyrus came along.

His previous milkman (a rather old and forgetful tortoise) had retired, and a bright and boisterous skeleton monster had taken his place. The first time they met, Sans was torn between feeling annoyed and feeling like he’d just been punched in the chest.

--

*ding dong*

‘gimme a minute, gerson,’ he muttered, pawing along his folding table for his bookmark without looking. He stood, shuffling along to the door in his dark blue fluffy robe. Undoing the lock, he slowly pulled the door open and found himself wondering why Gerson had a shirt over his face; then he blinked once, twice, and found his eyelights traveling upwards, eventually locking on the dark sockets of a beaming skeleton that was probably only a fraction shorter than Stretch.

‘uh…can i help you?’

‘GOOD MORNING! I HAVE BROUGHT YOU YOUR SUPPLY OF CALCIUM, THE BEST FRIEND OF SKELETONS LIKE US! ALTHOUGH NOT EVEN MILK COULD BE AS GOOD A FRIEND AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS!’

A part of him, unsettled and unused to the presence of other monsters, wanted to punch this ‘Papyrus’ in the jaw, take his milk, and go stick his face back in a book. The rest of him was struck dumb at the sheer amount of energy the skeleton was pouring off. They could probably power Mountain City for a month with this guy (their town founder wasn’t exactly…creative with names).

‘…right. i uh…you takin’ gerson’s place?’

‘INDEED I AM!’ he boasted proudly. ‘GERSON FELT IT BEST TO RETIRE, AND I AGREE WITH HIS DECISION. OUR CUSTOMERS NEED THEIR BONE-FRIENDLY CALCIUM IN A TIMELY AND EFFICIENT MANNER, AND NONE ARE MORE SUITED TO THE TASK THAN I, THE GREAT PAP--’

‘yeah i gotcha buddy, no need to announce your name all the time,’ Sans cut off quickly. What was with this guy? Was his ego that huge? Or had he been knocked around a few too many times and felt a need to remind himself of who he was on the regular?

‘so. in the spirit of timeliness and efficiency, can i have my milk now?’

Papyrus froze, then wailed loudly, causing Sans to step back in alarm. What the-!?

‘PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I SPENT SO LONG BLITHERING THAT I HAVE FAILED MY DUTY. ALLOW ME TO MAKE AMENDS!’

Two bottles were shoved toward Sans and he grabbed them, wondering if he should just accept the extra bottle or shove it back and tell the monster to get lost. His voice was still ringing in his skull…

‘thanks, i guess?? i dunno if i’ll be able to finish it all, but might as well milk this for what it’s worth, right?’

Sans observed the change in Papyrus immediately, saw how the monster’s shoulders stiffened and his eyesockets grew even wider.

‘WAS THAT…A PUN??’

So that was this guy’s weakness? Sans felt himself begin to smile, something he hadn’t done in weeks.

‘sure was. want an-udder one?’

If Papyrus had eyes, Sans was sure they’d be popping out of his skull with how hard he was trying to maintain a professional face.

‘NO, THAT WILL BE FINE, THANK YOU THOUGH! I MUST BE GOING NOW – GOOD DAY!’

And with that, the skeleton did an about-face and prepared to speed-walk away from him. Sans felt a chuckle escape him and he blinked. Well that was…nice.

‘hold up.’

He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, tilting his head as he watched Papyrus slowly turn around.

‘you comin back in two weeks? that was my schedule with gerson.’

Papyrus straightened his spine and puffed out his chest, making another chuckle bubble up in Sans’s chest. He acted like Sans had just insulted him.

‘OF COURSE I AM! I AM HONOR-BOUND TO BRING YOU YOUR SUPPLY OF CALCIUM! IT IS A SWORN DUTY AND I WOULD NEVER SHIRK IT!’

Sans raised a brow ridge.

‘take your job pretty seriously, huh?’

‘I TAKE ANY TASK TO HEART, SIR.’

‘sans.’

‘I BEG YOUR PARDON?’

‘my name is sans.’

He could see the indecision on Papyrus’s face as he wondered whether he should actually use the name or not, and a pale orange blush sprouted high on his cheekbones. Sans blinked at that and felt his grin widen. Well that was certainly pretty.

‘don’t worry, you can use my name or you can call me whatever. either way is fine. but you should probably get mooving along, no?’

A strangled noise got caught in Papyrus’s throat and he quickly turned around, speeding to his truck.

‘GOOD DAY, SIR!’

Sans chuckled again. That felt good. It was nice to laugh.

--

Papyrus’s exuberance was blinding, overwhelming, and it had a strange habit of making Sans’s soul flop in his chest cavity like a fish out of water. In what was an otherwise gray existence, Papyrus was a breathtaking splash of color. He’d grown to crave Papyrus’s visits, was nearly desperate for them. It was a break from the monotony, a break from the silence.

A break from the nearly crippling loneliness.

The time between visits were practically a blur now, though Sans really couldn’t call them visits, could he? He’d been doing his damnedest to keep Papyrus nearby as long as possible, asking questions and offering information freely. He’d come to slowly learn things about the skeleton, tidbits of information that he hoarded greedily.

Papyrus was five years younger.

Papyrus had served in the armed forces (he sheepishly admitted that he actually never made it past PT).

Papyrus was very fond of puzzles (though he once tried to convince Sans that the horoscope was one of the most difficult puzzles he’d ever encountered).

Papyrus’s favorite food was oatmeal with dinosaur eggs (how cute, Sans had thought, hiding his affectionate smile beneath his hand).

Papyrus’s favorite color was “the sky on the first day of spring”.

The list only seemed to grow longer, and Sans was beginning to think he knew more about Papyrus than he knew about his spouse. He smoothed his hands down his knee-length black skirt and tangled his fingers in the hem of his deep blue blouse. It was hard to remember when he’d started dressing nicely for the monster’s visits. He already wanted Papyrus to visit again. This was bad, he thought with a clenching of his jaw. He’d grown far too attached to a monster that was far too bright for a selfish, messed up monster like him. Who even knew if Papyrus didn’t have someone to go home to? Who wouldn’t love to be with someone like him? And why was he even thinking about Papyrus’s marital status? He was married! ‘for how long?’ his mind whispered, and he froze, his fingers nearly tearing a hole in his shirt. That was a ridiculous thought.

…right?

He would need to think about it more, and carefully.

It took another 12 weeks to come to terms with his failing relationship. He spent his time watching carefully, listening, exploring various means to snag Stretch’s attention, feeling increasingly desperate and dejected.

He bought a sky-blue sundress with white and gold flowers scattered across the fabric.

‘do you like it?’

‘Hm?’ Stretch looked up from a stack of files he was poring over and took in the outfit. Sans swore he saw a flash of wistfulness in Stretch’s narrowed sockets, but it was gone before he could be sure.

‘You look lovely.’

And that was the end of that.

He wore it the following morning, and Papyrus had been speechless for a moment before smiling so brightly Sans was nearly blinded.

He tried engaging in more displays of affection and coaxed Stretch to the bedroom. The taller monster agreed to it only once. The movements were somewhat robotic, and Stretch didn’t really seem to be looking at him. Sans felt unsatisfied afterward, and he had a suspicion that so did Stretch.

He again tried to engage more in-depth conversation, but it never got beyond surface level and if Sans had hair, he would have ripped it out in frustration. Another part of him, a part he regularly shoved down with uncharacteristic violence, said that the past was doomed to repeat itself, and he’d be a failure like he’d always been.

It had fallen apart when he wasn’t looking. He didn’t want to accept it, but what choice did he have? He sat quietly in the living room one evening as Stretch looked over more notes and drank a tea Sans had made for him. He breathed in, shutting his eyesockets.

“it’s not working, is it.”

Stretch paused, tilting his head ever so slightly in Sans’s direction.

“What?”

Sans gestured between them.

“this. it hasn’t been working for a while now, has it?”

The teacup was placed down on the coffee table with a small ‘click’, and Stretch turned fully towards him.

“…What makes you say that?”

Sans huffed lightly, trying not to feel angry.

“kind of a ridiculous question, no? there’s…there’s nothing there anymore. not sure when, not sure why, but it’s gone. i can see it on your face that you feel the exact same way.” Sans grit his teeth together, feeling a surge of bitterness before he smashed it down. “you weren’t exactly subtle.”

Stretch said nothing for a minute, and Sans felt his shoulders drop when Stretch sighed.

“You make it sound like I did it on purpose.”

He stared incredulously at the other monster.

“you mean you didn’t?”

Stretch glared weakly.

“Of course I didn’t. It just…happened. I got really involved in my work and by the time I pulled my head outta the water, the spark had just…I dunno. Evaporated.”

“how long ago.”

“Huh?”

“how long ago was it that the spark disappeared? how long have i had to wonder?”

Sans watched as Stretch bodily cringed.

“…I don’t know. Months ago. I just kept up the idea of being absorbed in work. I mean I still am, but…”

Sans’s eyelights became glued to the ground.

“you’re kind of an asshole.” he remarked casually.

Stretch cringed again.

“I know. I didn’t mean to drag it on this long, but I didn’t wanna really admit that it was gone. You were trying and I wanted to try, too, but…I couldn’t.”

The wistful look on Stretch’s face flashed in Sans’s mind and he felt like laughing. So that’s what it was. He supposed he couldn’t be too angry at Stretch. He was feeling the same way, after all. The causes were different, but the result was the same.

“So who are they?”

The other skeleton’s frame stiffened.

“What?”

Sans snorted, smiling crookedly.

“i’m askin’ who the other monster is.”

Stretch’s eyes narrowed.

“Sans, are you accusing me of cheating?”

Sans shook his head.

“nah, we’re both too lazy to take that extra step and cause that kind of drama. but there is someone, isn’t there?”

Stretch looked down, clasping his hands together as if praying. After a long moment, he spoke. “There’s this monster that comes by pretty often with the wife of one of my coworkers. Best friend, apparently. He’s the exact friggin’ opposite of me – bright, energetic, loud, and such a social butterfly that it makes my head spin.”

Sans felt something like horror well up in his chest. Please let it not be Papyrus, please let it not be Papyrus. How twisted would that be??

“He’s maybe just an inch shorter than you, but he has a thing for boots, so he’s always up a few inches. Has a thing for bows, too, it’s kind of adorable.” Not Papyrus. Good.

The effect on Stretch was immediate. A warm, affectionate smile morphed his face into something Sans had never seen before. He thought he had seen a loving expression on the other skeleton’s face before, but this was on an entirely different plane. The guy was absolutely lovestruck. Sans thought it would have hurt more to see that expression directed at someone other than him, but he felt oddly numb.

“Incredible cook, too. He’ll bring tacos, brownies, these really great honey crisps. Definitely caters to my sweet tooth.”

Papyrus was a terrible cook. He’d found out first hand when Papyrus had brought a small porcelain bowl of his “world-famous gourmet spaghetti” and Sans had nearly spit it out upon tasting. When asked who had taught him, he said it was a combination of self-teaching and his best friend who was a military officer and apparently thought violence was the answer to everything. The following visit, Sans had given him a small book of recipes and a suggestion to watch the cooking channel and YouTube, with a smiling jab to take his friend’s advice with a grain of salt, which earned him a flat glare and a declaration of “YOU ARE UTTERLY IMPOSSIBLE”.

“stretch…why didn’t you just talk about it? i mean you’re my husbonedo, but you’re my friend, too. all this did was make us both suffer.”

Stretch snorted softly and his warm smile cooled to a slightly crooked grin.

“Nice one. If it bothered you so much, why didn’t you mention something?”

“kinda gave you an opportunity really early on, and you lied through your teeth.”

“You didn’t press it.”

Sans raised a hand in a gesture that said ‘are you serious?’ “why did that have to be my responsibility though? you were the one that didn’t want it anymore. i had no idea what was goin’ on and wanted our relationship to be okay.”

“Sans…”

His raised hand flipped up to motion Stretch to stop.

“i’m not tryin’ to sound accusing. i’m just sayin’ if you didn’t feel it anymore, you should have let me know instead of making me wonder. It…kinda fucked with my head a li’l. you know one of my earliest goals was to make the folks important to me happy. it’s all i’d wanted as a babybones ‘cause that asshole was never happy. and having you ignore me like he did…i dunno. i felt like that babybones all over again.”

Stretch looked stricken.

“Shit, Sans I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

“i figured. but it’s not your problem, it’s mine. at least, it is now.”

The taller monster wilted visibly.

“Yeah…guess we’re calling it?”

“yeah…we’re calling it. there’s not really any other option.”

Stretch looked uncomfortable.

“Guess so. What now?”

Sans shrugged, feeling the numbness in his chest begin to morph to feel a bit more like a void. He tried to analyze the phenomena and found he didn’t care enough. He tried to focus on Papyrus, that bright ray of light, and felt the growing void falter. He wondered how long he’d be able to cling to that light.

“Tomorrow I’ll go and get the papers so you can sign. I’ll also begin to look for a job, maybe try to put this mind of mine to use.”

Stretch looked even more uncomfortable than before. “I know I promised you’d never have to work again…”

“you kept that promise as long as you could.”

Tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Stretch made an idle gesture with his free hand.

“Look, uh…I’ve been at the research institute for a while now, maybe I could talk to some folks and get you a job at a branch facility? You’ve got the knack for it.”

Sans felt his soul twist oddly in his chest. A chance to work in a field he loved?

“you’d…you’d do that for me? but i don’t have a degree or anything.”

“I’ve made things bad enough.” Stretch paused, looking down. “It’s the least I can do. Besides, they’d be idiots to turn you away. You remember how many times you helped me with my homework when I was in school, don’t you?”

Sans huffed softly to himself.

“there were times back then where i thought you had no business studying this stuff.”

“Just because you’re a natural genius…” Stretch muttered.

Sans chuckled.

The relationship ended on a neutral note, and Stretch began coming home in a better mood. It was a silent agreement that they kept any future relationships to themselves, so mentions of the Bedazzling and Brilliant Blue were kept to a minimum and Sans made no mention of a more-than-passing interest in Papyrus. A different part of Sans, however, the part from his childhood that he’d tried to keep down, felt that the impending divorce was unacceptable, that he’d not done enough to keep Stretch happy. How was he supposed to keep Stretch happy, though, when the kind of monster he wanted was so very different from him? He couldn’t change that much without no longer being himself. Despite that argument, that part of his mind refused to be silenced, telling him that he was a failure, that this would happen to every relationship. He didn’t make Gaster happy. He didn’t make Stretch happy. What was he doing wrong? As the days passed, Sans fell into himself. The finalization of the divorce was barely even noticed by him.

“Sans, you need to eat something. You look sick,” Stretch told him one day. Sans had stopped keeping track of the passing of time. What was the point? Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to snap out of it, that he should never be the one to put that look of concern on Stretch’s face, on Papyrus’s face.

“don’t worry about me,” he replied quietly. “i’ll be fine.”

“No you won’t. Just…here, eat this, okay?” And then a small pastry was pressed into his hands. It didn’t look store-bought. One of Blue’s creations, no doubt. He couldn’t make something this delicate.

Failure.

With his head bowed so deeply, Stretch couldn’t see the tear that slipped down Sans’s face. He stood and placed the pastry on the coffee table.

“no thanks.” A second later, he heard Stretch curse.

“Sans, I didn’t think, I’m sorry—”

“it’s fine,” he cut off flatly, not stopping in his journey to the guest bedroom where he’d been sleeping.

It wasn’t fine.

Sans sat on the porch in a plain white blouse partially obscured by an open navy-blue hip-length cardigan. A thin black cotton skirt fell just past his knees, showing his legs and bare feet. His attire was a far cry from the more colorful outfits he’d worn in the past that garnered glowing compliments from Papyrus, and Papyrus was more than aware of the difference. The change was also reflected on Sans’s face and frame, his dim eyelights glued to the floor and his posture slumped. Papyrus wanted nothing more than to run up that pathway and sweep the smaller monster into his arms, but he was frozen.

Sans was a customer and despite their friendly banter, it had been a professional relationship. It should stay that way. But Papyrus would be lying to himself if he didn’t find himself drawn to the quiet snarky monster. He wasn’t sure why, though. ‘You know why,’ he whispered to himself. He lived for Sans’s uncommon smiles and even rarer laughs. He loved Sans’s jokes and puns, even if he pretended he hated them, and he admired Sans’s incredible intelligence. The skeleton didn’t like to show it off much, stars know why, but when he began talking about space or some other science-y gobbledygook, Papyrus felt awe-inspired. There was a lot of passion there for science, and he wondered why Sans didn’t pursue it more aggressively. What was holding him back? Before he knew what he was doing, he was stepping out of his car and walking down the pathway that led to Sans. That empty look on Sans’s face was unacceptable, and if visiting him on his day off got him in trouble, so be it.

Papyrus frowned to himself when Sans didn’t even acknowledge his presence, still staring at the floor. In fact… Papyrus squinted suspiciously. Sans was entirely too still.

“SANS?”

No response.

“…SANS?”

No response. Papyrus felt a flash of fear. He’d never touched the smaller monster before, but…

He leaned closer, extending one hand before hesitating. Slowly, he removed one of his gloves and placed it against Sans’s forehead. It was cold, and he flinched back in alarm. How long had Sans been out here!? The beginning of winter was setting in, and the wind had a bite to it that pierced his warm reindeer-patterned sweater. Scrambling to put his glove back on, he hesitated for a split second before swooping down and lifting Sans in his arms. Maneuvering the small body so that it was held comfortably in one arm, he tried the door. Locked. Had he been locked outside? …or had he locked himself outside?

Papyrus wasn’t stupid. He knew what misery looked like, and despite his best efforts, Sans had been swallowed by it in the last couple of months. Gradually it had gotten worse, and now…this. What would have happened to Sans had Papyrus not decided to give in to his urge to see him again? He didn’t want to think about it. Shutting his eyesockets and apologizing silently, he turned and made his way back to his car, Sans as light in his arms as a leaf in the breeze. He deposited the skeleton in the passenger seat then walked around and sat in the driver’s seat, turning on the car and cranking up the heat as high as it could go.

What should he do, he wondered. Should he drive to the hospital? Should he stay here and see if the heat from his car would revive Sans? Should he go home? His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the leather of his gloves crunching audibly.

Keeping Sans in the car could prove to be fruitless. What if something else was wrong? He considered the hospital. It would be the most logical choice. Hospitals had gear he could never dream of having, but what could they really do? Hospitals couldn’t fix maladies of the mind, and if it was what he feared, hospitals were rarely able to treat that, either. The will of a monster was a delicate thing, not easily swayed by strangers. All the magic and medicine in the world could not save a monster that did not want to be saved.

Clenching his jaw, he turned the car around and started driving back the way he came. The hospital was the logical answer, but logic wasn’t his strong suit. He glanced at Sans and felt his soul clench painfully.

“NOT YET, SANS.”

His apartment was tiny, at least compared to Sans’s house, but it was meticulously kept with sparse decorations. His room was likely the loudest in the apartment, lined with shelves and the walls covered with things that held his interest. Perhaps he’d show Sans later. But for now…

He placed Sans on his couch as delicately as possible and pulled a chair from his practically nonexistent dining room to the couch. Papyrus sat down, staring at the limp form in front of him, the eyesockets of the other monster having fallen shut on the way over. What did he do first? Did he get prepare tea? Did he try to talk to Sans? He’d never been in a situation like this before. Breathing in, he tried clearing his head. Panicking would do no good. He remembered the words of his guardian and breathed in again, slower this time.

Do what feels best, child. More often than not, your soul will guide true.

What feels best? He dragged his gaze from Sans’s lax features to his chest and felt his soul clench, only marginally less painfully than before. He took his gloves off and placed them on the arm of the couch, then reached forward, placing his bare hands on top of Sans’s chest. Papyrus bowed his head, mentally apologizing again for what he was about to do. What other choice did he have? Checking another monster against their will was invasive and usually done only under extreme circumstances, such as a life-or-death battle or medical emergency. As he analyzed Sans, he felt his bones bleach of color, his eyesockets growing wide with horror.

HP: 0.1/1

Papyrus’s right eyesocket burst with a surge of orange magic like a sunflare and his hands lit with healing magic. Perhaps it was overkill, but Papyrus was hardly thinking clearly. Why did Sans only have one HP!? He bent over Sans’s prone body, his eyesockets squeezed shut, wisps of orange magic curling upward and disappearing. He mentally projected his voice, willing Sans’s soul to hear.

SANS…SANS PLEASE LISTEN TO ME…I KNOW YOU’RE STILL THERE. I WILL NOT LET YOU GIVE UP! YOU ARE STILL NEEDED! I NEED YOU! SO PLEASE, ACCEPT MY MAGIC. LET ME PULL YOU BACK. STAY WITH ME.

Papyrus knew his soul was glowing brightly through his sweater, and for a moment he thought he saw a responding blue pulse beneath his hands, but nothing came afterward. He pressed down slightly, feeling the fear he felt earlier trying to wrap around his soul. He cast it aside angrily and felt tears gather at the corners of his eyesockets.

SANS, PLEASE. DON’T LEAVE ME BEHIND. NOT WHEN I JUST FOUND YOU.

…

PLEASE…

…

…papyrus…

Papyrus felt a quick and violent pull at his magic, causing him to grit his teeth, but it faded and when he opened his eyesockets, Sans’s soul was pulsing slowly beneath his fingers in a shade of blue that he automatically identified as his favorite.

Sans

HP: 1/1

“Thank goodness…” he whispered. He took several deep breaths and froze when he heard a small exhale of air.

“…why?”

“DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID?”

“…i did. but why?”

“WHY NOT?”

Sans tried to move, but Papyrus held him down with a hand on his shoulder.

“YOU WILL LIKELY FEEL WEAK FOR A WHILE. I WOULD RATHER YOU STAY STILL FOR THE TIME BEING.”

The smaller monster tried pushing against Papyrus’s restraining hand, but fell back with a soft sigh.

“i’m not worth it.”

Papyrus wasn’t sure whether to be angry or sad.

“WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU SAY THAT?”

“because it’s the truth. i can’t keep anyone happy. i’m just a failure,” Sans replied with a shrug, ignoring the strange look Papyrus was giving him.

Why would he believe that?

“YOU MAKE ME HAPPY.”

“you haven’t been around me long enough.”

“I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT. THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO WAY YOU COULD MAKE ME UNHAPPY. WELL…UNLESS YOU TOLD ME YOU HATED ME. THAT MIGHT…HURT A BIT.”

Sans huffed shortly.

“i’d be insane to hate you. and it’s probably impossible.”

“OH I’M FAIRLY SURE EVERYONE HATES ME.”

At this, Sans’s eyelights locked on him, narrowed incredulously.

“bullshit.”

“LANGUAGE!”

Sans ignored him.

“there is no way you’re hated by everyone. you’re a ray of friggin’ sunshine,” Sans insisted.

Papyrus smiled softly.

“ONE WOULD THINK SO. AFTER ALL, WHAT COULD ONE DISLIKE ABOUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS!? BUT…” his voice dropped, and his smile became rueful. “It’s quite easy for people to hate me, it seems. I believe the only people who still tolerate my presence is Undyne, my guardian Toriel, and you. It usually comes down to a declaration that I am unforgivably annoying, loud, and full of myself.” Papyrus huffed, crossing his arms indignantly. “Of course I’m full of myself, who else would I be full of?”

Sans bit back the instinctual urge to make a dirty comment, and nodded slowly. He saw that Papyrus’s eyesockets had nearly fallen shut, looking far too sad for Sans’s liking.

“I don’t see my guardian much anymore, and Undyne is constantly traveling. So I guess really all I’ve had for all the months I’ve known you is…well, you.”

“that’s gotta suck. i’m not exactly the best company.”

“I think you’re wonderful company,” Papyrus murmured.

Sans felt his face heat up and Papyrus immediately brightened at the sight of the blue flush.

“YOUR MAGIC IS MY FAVORITE COLOR, DID YOU KNOW?”

His flush darkened.

“what?? don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’M NOT RIDICULOUS, I’M PAPYRUS.”

Sans couldn’t resist snorting in laughter and Papyrus felt his insides warm at the sound.

“I MEAN IT, THOUGH. I NEVER NOTICED BEFORE, SINCE I’VE NEVER GIVEN YOU REASON TO SHOW YOUR MAGIC COLOR, BUT I THINK IT’S QUITE SPECIAL THAT IT’S SUCH A LOVELY SHADE OF BLUE.”

“not as pretty as your magic…” Sans muttered, and Papyrus felt like he was floating. Sans thought the color of his magic was pretty?

“I…Y-YOU MUST BE THIRSTY. ALLOW ME TO MAKE YOU A TEA. YES, I SHALL RETURN SHORTLY, YESSIREE.”

And before Sans could poke more fun at him, Papyrus had disappeared into another room, clanking about loudly. Sans took his time to take in his surroundings and decided that this must be where Papyrus lived. It was…surprisingly plain. He figured there would be a riot of color, but the only color he saw was a single potted plant on the dining room table, meticulously pruned and its flowers a vivid yellow. Everything else, aside from the walls which were a soft cream color, was calming earthy shades that had him relaxing minutely. Spartan, but good taste, he decided.

Why was he with Papyrus anyway? Last he remembered, he’d watched Stretch leave for work and he had gotten up to sit on the porch. He’d been so tired…he just wanted to sleep. No more pain. No more rejection. He felt his soul thump hard against his ribcage and he placed a hand against it gently. Tears slipped quietly out of his eyesockets and he breathed deeply, trying not to let the void consume him again. It wouldn’t do to stress Papyrus more.

“SANS, DO YOU LIKE –”

Sans tried to hide his face, but was too late. He felt Papyrus’s much larger hand grab his and squeeze softly.

“Sans, please speak to me. Why are you upset?” Papyrus hesitated. “Why were you out in the cold for so long?”

“…i wanted the pain to stop.”

This was dangerous territory. Papyrus tried to word himself carefully.

“Could you possibly explain why you’re in pain?”

“it’s a long story.”

Papyrus shifted and squeezed Sans’s hand again. Sans weakly squeezed back.

“I have all the time in the world.”

Sans stared at him for a long moment, then turned his head away and began speaking.

“…i didn’t exactly have the best father in the world. doesn’t deserve the title, really. he did a lot of things i’d rather not talk about. there’s probably no one else on this planet that i hate more. but there was a time where i loved him, where i wanted nothing more than for him to recognize me as his son, to encourage me and treat me like i wasn’t a pariah.” Sans had clenched his other hand into a tight fist and Papyrus grasped it gently, working steadily to loosen his fingers. His eyelights stared straight at the ceiling and were blank, betraying none of the emotions that his hands unfortunately couldn’t hide. “it didn’t work. he ignored me, cast me aside, despite everything i did to try and make him happy. i left when i couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Sans had always seemed so laid-back and content. He’d been hiding this the whole time? Papyrus wasn’t sure how he felt. Normally, he was a very forgiving monster, able to put aside any wrongs for the sake of seeing the good in someone. But to know someone had hurt Sans so badly, and had been a parent at that…

“I’m sorry…”

Sans continued as if Papyrus hadn’t said anything, which led Papyrus to believe that Sans was treating the story as a bandaid and ripping it off in one go.

“i did what i could to survive until i came of age, but that never really bothered me. i was used to being on my own. as soon as i was able, i worked as many jobs as i could so i could have a real place to stay. after that, it was just a blur of time. not sure when, but somewhere in that muck of days, i met someone, this nerdy college kid. his work was on stuff i was interested in, so i mentioned it, and we started seein’ a lot more of each other. i thought that was it, yknow? the end. the person i’d spend the rest of my life with. up until…i dunno. some time ago, i still believed that. may have been weeks, may have been months.”

Papyrus felt his proverbial guts sink.

“he changed a couple years into the marriage. stopped talkin’ to me as much as he did before. i thought maybe he was just busy. every day that went by he got more distant, no matter what i did. and it just felt like i was with gaster again, constantly pushed aside despite how much i gave a damn.” Sans snorted, his expression twisting into an ugly sneer and his left eyesocket flickering with icy blue magic. “didn’t matter in the end. he’d stopped giving a shit about me and become interested in someone else. part’a me isn’t angry about that at all, since i started craving having you around like a crack addict craves fixes, but another part…the broken ugly part…says that it’s my fault, that i couldn’t be what he needed. and i let that part win, because it’s right.”

Sans felt a hand grip his chin and turn his face to lock gazes with Papyrus. He felt a chill go down his spine looking at the steady outpour of fiery orange magic coming from Papyrus’s right eyesocket.

“I WANT YOU TO THANK YOU FOR SHARING SUCH PERSONAL INFORMATION WITH ME, BUT I’M AFRAID I’M GOING TO HAVE TO BE VERY FIRM WITH YOU IN SAYING THAT YOU WERE WRONG.”

Sans felt his eyesockets widen.

“what?”

“YOU WERE WRONG TO LET THAT PART WIN. PERHAPS YOU FOUGHT IT, PERHAPS YOU DIDN’T. IN ANY CASE, YOU BELIEVE IT IS RIGHT, THAT YOU CAN’T MAKE OTHERS HAPPY, BUT YOU ARE WRONG. SANS, I KNOW THIS MAY BE DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND,” The hand gripping Sans’s chin shifted to cup the side of his face, the thumb grazing against his cheekbone. “BUT YOU ARE NOT AT FAULT. YOU NEVER HAVE BEEN.”

Sans blinked owlishly, not quite accepting the words.

“you’re right, i don’t understand.”

Papyrus’s features set in determination and he leaned closer to Sans, causing the other skeleton to blush.

“uh…”

“YOU ARE NOT AT FAULT, AND I WILL PROVE IT TO YOU, ONE DAY AT A TIME, FOR AS LONG AS I HAVE TO.”

Sans felt tears gather again and tried blinking them back to no avail. He tried laughing, but it sounded more like a sob.

“you might end up sacrificing the rest of your life tryin’, paps.”

“THAT IS A SACRIFICE I AM MORE THAN WILLING TO MAKE.”

Maybe it’d be fine after all.

Ending note: ALRIGHT, SO. That was probably riddled with all kinds of shit, and I apologize, buuuuuuuuuut this is what my brain cooked up when I tried thinking of gentle smut. Whoops. I was thinking of doing a continuation where there’s actually smut. Lemme know what you think.

For any missing explanations: the reason Sans didn’t get a job right away. He was doing his best to fight off that pesky demon, and Stretch was having a hell of a time convincing higher ups that Sans was just as qualified for the job despite having no degree or even a modicum of formal education. The reason Sans is still living with Stretch even after the divorce is finalized is...Stretch may have fallen out of love with Sans, but he isn’t an asshole. He knows what Sans went through growing up and he’s not going to even suggest Sans leaving until he’s absolutely certain Sans can support himself. Even if they’re not married anymore, Stretch still sees Sans as a friend. Yes, Sans locked himself outside on purpose.

[twinflamegirl]

To Still the mind is to awaken the senses…

Today, I’m starting my piece in a rather unorthodox choice of subject so please bear with me, as there is a ‘method to my madness’! LOL

Amongst my generation of graphic designers, illustrators and creatives, there was an unspoken truth, a kind of joke, whereby it was believed that inspiration strikes pretty much anywhere but particularly whilst being in the loo (that is toilet to anyone who may not be familiar with that term)! Yes, this is why designers tend to always carry a notepad & pen everywhere with them (literally!) Facetious? Maybe a little, but there is truth in my words! (Besides, this has been tried and tested by many! lol).

So, why is the toilet such a beacon of creative inspiration? Well…it’s the lack of clutter, a room devoid of any unnecessary objects, plus it is a quiet space; peaceful and still, allowing for quiet contemplation as one is left with one’s thoughts in a form of tranquil ‘solitary confinement’ (but not of the torturous kind).

So, what is my point here, what is it that I am getting at, and how on Earth is this in any way spiritual or related to soul growth? What I’m trying to exemplify here, is that in the stillness, in the quiet, THIS is where our revelations come to befriend us, to offer us answers, insights and inspiration. What I’m actually ambling towards is the subject of meditation!

On a spiritual path of any kind – be it that of a twin flame, yogi, religious person or general – meditation of one type or another is a vital tool, a way of life. It is like a loudspeaker from the Universe directly to your own heart. Practised every day, it has a cumulative effect and it instils a gentle form of self-discipline that – amongst other things - is key to achieving self-mastery. Patience is a must so don’t get disheartened if you don’t see quick results. There are no shortcuts here, just plain old consistency and daily commitment to practising and focusing. Day by day, meditation will not only help you to relax, but it will aid focus and concentration whilst additionally enabling you to find answers to questions that you may have unanswered in your head.

There is no strict way to meditate although there are many schools of thought on best practise. The way in which you choose to meditate is entirely up to you. The onus is on stilling the mind and to get it to a theta state. An important things to note is that across the board, maintaining stillness is a given and one must sit with a straight spine in order to create good alignment of one’s chakras/energy system. Also, always remember to keep you feet still (if you are seated on a chair). I’d often been told off during group transcendental meditation for being a fidget and having ‘dancing feet’ (moving my feet from time to time).  For anyone who struggles to sit still, like me, start by doing 10 mins of meditation each day, then build it up incrementally to 15, 20, 30 etc. Find your happy medium. Gradually, over the weeks, you will find that this all becomes second nature.  Some people base their meditations on quiet, emptying their minds whilst others focus on mantras, chanting etc. I’m scratching the surface here by what I’m writing, so please bear in mind that there is so much to learn about meditation if you wish to take it to a deeper level and develop this practise more seriously.

One thing to take into consideration is that there are also many unorthodox forms of what people consider to be meditation or meditative, to be precise such as: running, cooking, washing dishes, painting, colouring in mandalas, dancing…the possibilities are endless. Don’t be afraid to experiment and explore. A whole new wonderful world will open up for you and you will gain much benefit from it over the long term. You will feel more grounded, centred and connected not only to yourself but also to all that is. Your sense of wellbeing will grow exponentially as you develop and evolve your inner landscape.

©TwinFLameGirl-2017