#and i may be speaking too soon on behalf of the writing bc it’s not a completed series and i have to remember that

[winter-bitch]

the way some of y’all talk about taissa (in relation to van & in general) (when she’s not being ignored) is concerning to say the very least

[miikrokkosmos]

assistance || namjoon x reader

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, idol!namjoon, assistant manager!reader

word count: 4.3k

summary: Namjoon oversteps the line of what is appropriate in regards to his professional relationship with you, one of BTS’s assistant managers, and in more ways than one. Not that you could complain, though.

a/n: hey! i promise i will not be regularly leaving notes like this, but just wanted to say hey, i’m a new BTS fic writer, so feel free to say hi (or leave me fic ideas/requests!! i can’t promise to write every request, but i appreciate any inspo!) and this is something i hate to ask, but just wanted to say that i can’t express how much i’d appreciate a reblog if you enjoy this fic! just bc i am a brand new blog and have no other way of getting my stuff out there. thanks for reading, i hope you enjoy, and again, any ideas or criticisms would be so appreciated!! <3

______________________________________________________________________

What on earth was he thinking.

You had no idea what you were taking on when you accepted a job offer in an assistant management position with BigHit. You thought it would be a comfy little job to get your foot in the door of a big entertainment corporation while you continued your grad school studies on the side. You didn’t think your days would be taken up with helping your senior managers assisting a group of energetic young men with the craziest tasks. You didn’t think you’d travel the world, shielding the band from overzealous fans at airports, or that you’d be waking up at 5 am to help figure out scheduling issues with the other managers. And you certainly didn’t think you’d catch the eye and attention of one Kim Namjoon.

The interactions had started out simple enough. The time he overhead you instructing the other managers about the members’ particular favourite coffee orders, and he made it clear he was impressed with your attention to detail after working with them for only a small amount of time. When he shyly grinned the time you jumped in front of him at the airport when a fan’s reaching hand came a little too close to his jacket. The day he called you over to play Mario Kart with him and the boys while they were waiting their turn to perform somewhere, because he noticed you standing in the corner, not privy to the conversations of the older male managers who always seemed to subconsciously you leave you out. The day he was panicking, searching for a book he was reading before a show, and you had found it behind a make-up chair he had been sitting in. He gave you the biggest smile along with a “thank you” as he placed his warm hand on your shoulder, making you madly blush in front of the whole team. And most recently, the day he came over to where you were sitting, unprompted, just to chat with you in between sets. You were busy taking notes and studying for an exam the next day in between requests from the other managers while the boys were performing. He was very interested in what you were studying, but was appalled to see how much work you had due in between tasks and running errands for the team, let alone the massive migraine that was plaguing you as a result. As he was getting called to the stage, he offered to help you study. You were completely taken aback, and all you could muster was a “maybe”.

You initially beat yourself up for not being more accepting of his offer, but you were just so shocked. Why would an idol, who was by far your superior, want to give of his precious free time to help you study? Well, you had a feeling bubbling up inside of you whenever he glanced your way, and you were worried maybe he was feeling the same. Or maybe he was just horny. Which is why you were so hesitant to readily accept his kindness – what would be the point? Nothing could come of it. It wouldn’t be professionally appropriate to take interest in each other’s personal lives, and a “work friends with benefits” certainly wouldn’t be appropriate, not that you were interested in that kind of thing anyway.

Suffice it to say, you were more than a little shocked when you got called into a meeting with your superiors questioning after your personal health and wellbeing, due to a certain Kim Namjoon sending them a detailed email on your behalf speaking of your migraines and overworked schedule, imploring them to be more lax and flexible with you. You had vehemently apologized and promised you were perfectly capable of keeping up with (and grateful for) your work hours, and your headaches were of your own doing for staying up too late during your personal time (you left out the part of how you had to stay up all night just to keep up with your school work on top of your job). And when they not-so-subtly asked why Namjoon of all people was the one to bring the issue up, you hastily told them you had no idea, as you prayed in your head as fervently as possible that they couldn’t see the flush rising on your cheeks.

You left, trying to fight the small part of yourself that was touched by Namjoon worrying about you, and attempting to focus on the fury that was boiling within you for him doing something like that without even consulting you. It could have cost you your job, if the managers above you were any less understanding. The managers’ questions of why Namjoon had contacted them were haunting you. Why did he take that upon himself?

You knew why.

You just wish you didn’t.

______________________________________________________________________

Clad in pajama shorts and a baggy tee, you were slumped in a chair at the desk in your hotel room, working away at the homework on your laptop in an attempt to distract yourself from your feelings about the day’s events as well as those about a certain person. You were snapped out of your stupor when two loud raps sounded at your door. As you stood up to walk to the door, you glanced towards the clock – 1:19 am. Hhmm.

You didn’t glance at the peephole for fear you would stop yourself from opening the door if you knew who was there. Instead, you swung the door wide open, and there he was. Grey sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, dimples on full display.

“Namjoon-nim,” you stated, more than greeted, mustering as close to a death glare as you could in the tall boy’s direction.

If he noticed the expression on your face, he didn’t show it, and greeted you with a wide grin. “Hi. I was wondering if now would be a good time to help you with some studying? If it’s not too late, of course. I just remember you mentioning you had an exam coming up soon, and…,” his mile-a-minute voice trailing off into an awkward giggle, as he realizes he’s still standing in your doorway, “May I come in?”

You slowly move to the side to make way for him, shutting the door behind you. You lean your back against the door with a loud sigh and put your head in your hands once you lock it.

Namjoon notices your disposition this time, his head quickly snapping towards you at the sound of your loud breathing. “Hey, _____, what’s wrong?”

Your snap your harsh eyes up to meet his soft ones, slowly walking towards him. “Namjoon-nim.”

“Are you stressed about your exam? I promise I will give you all of my time to help you study if you need it. Try not to stress about it so much, you’re a smart woman and -“

“Namjoon.” You stop walking when you are less than a foot apart from his face.

His soft gaze turns concerned. He closes his mouth, and prods you to continue with his eyes, deciding it best to give his words a break.

You do your best to keep your harsh stare steady, but it’s so much harder to do when you’re close enough to brush the fluffy strands of hair out of his eyes if you only lifted your hand. “Namjoon. Why did you have to reach out to the managers? What would possess you to do such a thing?”

His face contorts into an expression both relieved and confused at the same time. “Is that why you’re upset? I talked to them because I want you to take care of yourself. It’s not fair for you to have to be up before us, to bed later than us, giving yourself migraines trying to fit in an education on top of it. I just thought…it would help if I said something.” He looks down to his toes, not daring to meet your gaze.

You’re glad for the lack of eye contact, because you know you wouldn’t be able to seem as serious and angry as you want to if you were to meet his eyes. “I can appreciate all of that Namjoon, but it’s not your job to worry about me. What you did…I could’ve lost my job.”

As his eyes snap up, it becomes your turn to stare into the floor. “You’re not gonna lose your job. You’re too important to BigHit for that to happen.”

You huff a bitter laugh at that and walk around him to sit on the end of your bed, not being able to stand up in his face like you were for a moment longer. “That’s easy for you to say. I’m a lot more replaceable than someone like you are, and you and I both know it.”

“No, _____, I’m serious. They need you. Nobody knows the team like you do.” He walks over until he’s standing in front of you, between your legs. You embarrass yourself by letting out an involuntary gasp at his closeness, leaning back on your elbows on the bed to keep your distance. “I understand that’s not the point right now though. And I am sorry if my actions made you uncomfortable,” he says, kneeling down and taking your hands in his own. His eyes are staring into your own, hoping, pleading to get through to you. “It just hurts to see you struggling in any way. It has to be obvious by now that I care about you, _____” he says, voice barely above a whisper, as he reaches up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, and then leaves his hand resting under your cheek.

You go against your better judgement and give into his touch as he leans closer, leaving you no choice but to meet him half way and let him press his plush lips to yours. You both lean backward onto the bed until he is hovering over you, and for a small moment you let yourself revel in the feeling that you didn’t dare let yourself dream about before. But the butterflies in your stomach soon turn into a knot, all of your suppressed fears and feelings coming to a head until you feel tears rolling out of your eyes and onto Namjoon’s face. You’re embarrassed but you can’t stop the tears from coming, gently pushing on Namjoon’s chest to get him off of you. Once he realizes the situation he quickly backs away until he’s sitting at your side on the bed, gingerly placing his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry, _____.”

His unnecessary apology just makes you sob all the more. “We can’t do this,” you say almost as much to yourself as you do to him. You let your head hang, hugging yourself into a ball as you continue to weep.

Namjoon looks around himself, unsure of the best way to help the situation. Still keeping his hands to himself, he leans his head closer to your own lowly-hanging one to be at eye level. “I’m sorry, _____, please try to relax.”

You snap your head up quickly to stare into his eyes, your own (y/e/c) eyes full of hot tears. “Joon.” His gaze softens, perhaps even turns a little sad, at the sound of the nickname. “We can’t do this, Joon. We can’t get attached.”

Getting his bravery back, Namjoon lets his hands rise up to hesitantly cup both of your cheeks and hold your head in place. “It’s too late for me, _____. None of this will change anything for me.” He drops his head, his own eyes slightly beginning to swell. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

A wave of realization washes over you, that this is actually happening, as you gaze sadly at the crying boy in front of you. You reach out a hand to brush gently through his shaggy locks, until you let your hand trail down to under his chin to push up gently so that his eyes meet yours once more. “I’m already attached too,” you admit in a tone so soft, as if speaking any louder would shatter the air around you.

The sadness in Namjoon’s eyes is replaced with a slight glimmer of hope, his eyes shining with a mix of his own tears and a reflection of the dancing city lights shining through the window behind you. But before he can open his mouth and give himself false hope, you gently place a finger over his lips.

“It doesn’t matter though, Joon. They’d never allow anything. You know it. If they found out I’d be transferred away from you at best, fired at worst. Nothing can work.”

“We can be a secret. We can make somethingwork.”

“How? We work together, all day, every day. People would know.”

“_____.” Namjoon breathes out your name, moving one of his hands to behind your back to gently pull you into his side, using his other hand to clasp one of your own tightly. You shudder at the close proximity, still not used to being anywhere near this close to him.

He looks down at you with heavy eyes, choosing his next words carefully. “It’s late. We’re both tired. Can we try to get some sleep and have a real conversation about this in the morning?”

As much as you want to get the pain over with and end the conversation now, you can’t bring yourself to say no when he’s staring down into your eyes with such a pure and sad longing. “Okay.”

You begin to push yourself off of him in order to show him out the door, but he grabs you by the waist and back into his shoulder. In a shaky voice, he pleads, “No. Can I sleep here…please? It’s just…you’re right. Realistically, I don’t know what, if anything,we can work out in the morning. But let’s just have tonight. Together. No one will know and it’s not going to affect or change anything for the worse at this point. If we can’t have every day, let’s just be at peace with each other tonight, as if we’re together. Please. And we can talk and work everything out for real in the morning. Right now I just…need to hold you.”

Any emotional strength you had left has been spent now, and there is nothing else you can do but give in. “Okay.”

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow at you, trying to ease out of his serious mindset for both of your sakes. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you say, nodding at him as you straighten your posture in his embrace. “But we do actually have to sleep. I have to be up in four hours, so I’m going to get ready for bed,” you add, standing up off the bed to head to the bathroom.

“Of course,” he says as he, too, rises. You begin to sift through your suitcase for a suitable pair of pajamas when you notice he has taken his shirt off and thrown it to the floor next to you – his version of “getting ready for bed”. You stop shuffling through your clothes for a moment as you think to yourself, and then grab his shirt from its balled-up position on the floor.

“So,” you drawl out, to get his attention, “If we’re in a relationship for tonight, that means I can wear this, right?” You hold his shirt out into the air in front of you.

His eyes widen, momentarily surprised, but soon a shy little grin overtakes his features. “Yes. Yes, of course.” He nods at you.

“Good,” you say, as you walk into the mini bathroom next to you.

After brushing your teeth and splashing water on your tear-stained face, you hop out of your clothes and into his oversized shirt, comfortably hitting you mid-thigh. You walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting crossed-legged on the bed with the covers pulled all the way back, waiting expectantly for you. His face scrunches into a bashful grin when he sees you clad in just his shirt. “You look so good.”

You loudly scoff at that as you climb into the spot next to him on the bed. “I have no makeup on, my face is puffy from crying…you really are sleep deprived, aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes and smiles sweetly at you. Neither one of you move to lie down first, instead just sitting up on the bed, gazing at each other. It really hits you in this moment, the strangeness of it all, sitting on a bed next to someone who is essentially your boss. Yet even in the midst of the strangeness, and the unknowns, you can’t calm the feeling rising inside of you of how rightit all feels. Still, you don’t let yourself linger on that, and find yourself slipping into work mode when you let your mind linger too long on the fact that the man next to you whom you care about deeply is also 1/7thof the reason you have a job and get paid.

You glance down and take note of his attire. “Oh, Namjoon, I’m sorry, you’re still wearing your sweats…do you need me to find you something else to change into? Are you comfortable?” He smiles and puts a hand over yours, about to open his mouth before you cut him off with more of your nervous rambling, “Okay, uh, do you need some water or something before you sleep? Let me go find – “

“_____, stop. You’re not working. It’s just you and me.”

You smile at those words.

“Do you need anything?”

Those were words you were not used to being on the receiving end of. You smile and shake your head gently.

“Okay then,” he says with a grin, reaching down to the foot of the bed in order to bring the blankets up to your waists. You both lie back, and Namjoon turns his body towards yours to bring you closer only to find you a ridiculous amount of space away from him, stiffly staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey, _____,” he coos, and chuckles as you immediately whip your head towards him, “You can come closer, baby.”

Your mouth makes an “oh” shape as you realize how you subconsciously forced yourself to stay so far away, and inch sideways towards him until you are touching the elbow he has himself propped up on, your gaze back to being stuck on the ceiling.

He smirks and leans over until his face is hovering next to your own, and whispers, “Closer.”

This time, you will yourself to turn so your body is on its side facing him, and inch into his body until your face is pressed into his impossibly firm chest. Your wrap your arm around his waist, and he wraps his around yours, protectively pressing into your back, which pushes you until any possible remaining space has been squeezed out from between you. With your head tucked in under his chin and your ankles intertwined, you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt more secure or comforted in your life.

Namjoon presses a soft kiss to your hairline. “Please tell me I’m not the only one noticing how perfectly we fit together,” he breathes out onto your scalp.

You close your eyes and nuzzle into him further at his words, trying to hide your face from him. “Don’t think things like that, Joon. It’ll only make it harder.”

“Hey, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend tonight, remember? That’s a normal thing for someone in a relationship to think about.”

You gently nod under his head. You can’t argue him.

With both of your minds still wide awake, and not wanting to miss a moment of time together in your little bubble, the next hour ticks by quickly spent with you snuggling impossibly closer into each other, Namjoon gently carding his fingers through your hair. “I have insomnia. I’m sorry if I’m keeping you awake,” you whisper to him, worried you are unintentionally keeping him up, as well.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I’m here now. Just focus on my heartbeat.”

Which you do. It’s almost as loud as your own. You listen to the beat until you eventually doze off into the most restful three-hour sleep of your life.

_______________________________________________________________________

When you awaken in the morning, you have to keep yourself from jolting once you realize you’re still wrapped tightly in someone else’s arms, instead of sprawled out across your bed alone like usual. You gently nuzzle back into Namjoon’s hold, carefully trying not to wake him, as you want to make whatever it was that you both were doing last as long as possible.

You enjoy the next few minutes just staring up at his serene, peaceful face, looking absolutely beautiful under the sun’s rays coming through the window washing over his face. A few moments later he stirs, and throws his neck back, stretching out his whole body, yet still refusing to remove his arms from your torso. Eventually he opens his eyes, and breaks out into a wide, soft grin when he notices your doe-eyed expression staring back up at him. You gently rake your fingers through his soft locks for a while, letting each other get lost in the other’s presence.

“This is my favourite way I’ve ever woken up,” you breathe out, hand still entwined in his hair.

Namjoon offers a small smile as he reaches up to extricate your hand and hold it in his own.  He brings it to his chest, his large thumb brushing gently over your fingers. “Could we…do you think we could maybe put off our conversation until we have breakfast? Just so we can at least…eat together, and talk over coffee.” He smiles expectantly at you, knowing you can’t argue with that logic.

“Yeah,” you nod. “That’s a good plan.”

You stretch out to relieve your kinked up body, having not moved since the night before. But as soon as you extricate yourself from his grasp, he whines, making grabby hands to try and get you back. You have no choice but to roll back over, this time your body directly on top of his, with him lying on his back. He wraps his arm around your body once more, and you bury your face into his neck.

“So…when are we making breakfast?” he teases.

“Midnight,” you firmly reply, placing your lips on his collarbone for good measure.

“Okay.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Twenty minutes later you both have no choice but to drag yourselves out of bed and move on with the day. After you get dressed in the bathroom, you walk over to him with his t-shirt in hand and reach it out to him.

“What?”

“Your shirt.”

“Keep it.”

“Namjoon – “

“We still haven’t had our conversation yet, _____. No reason to give it back,” he says, not even attempting to hide the smirk on his face.

You smile up at him, a wistful look in your eye as you place the neatly folded shirt down on the foot of the bed.

You both spend the next half hour trying to make each other toast and omelettes, which ends in you putting Namjoon on coffee duty, since that’s the thing he’s least likely to burn. Seated next to each other at the small table in the hotel room, you enjoy your meal together, deep in conversations about anything other than what your subconsciouses were focused on. Not that either of you could complain. You enjoyed getting to talk about books, art, your hometowns, movies, your pets, and everything you didn’t get to converse about in your usual work environment.

Once you both downed the last of your coffees, the mood turned serious. You turned on your stools to face each other. “I have to leave for a meeting soon,” you said. His eyes turned sad. “Yeah, I have practice soon, too.”

He gently placed a hand behind your neck, slowly you dragging you forward to press his lips to yours once more. You move your mouths against each other with all the passion you felt inside of you, knowing this could very well be your last kiss. With heavy hearts you eventually had to tear apart, and straightened yourselves out in your chairs in preparation for the conversation ahead.

“So, about us…” Namjoon nervously trailed off, not quite sure how to begin such a difficult conversation.

You just stared at him, unsure yourself of what to say. Of what you could say, even. You let your eyes trail to the clock before glancing back over to Namjoon’s eyes, a tiny glint appearing in your own.

“My meeting actually starts very soon.”

Namjoon’s mouth quirks up at the end slightly. “I see.”

“Maybe we should be responsible and go to work, maybe we should put off talking…just a little bit longer.”

“I think that maybe that would be the smart and responsible thing to do, yes.”

“Okay then,” you say, standing up quickly. “Sounds good to me.”

You walk over to the night table to pick up your phone and keys, stopping when you walk by the shirt still sitting on the end of your bed. “Joon, don’t forget your shirt.”

He walks towards you and places his hands on your shoulders. He drops a quick kiss on your forehead. “Keep it,” he says with a wink.

With that, he grabs his own phone off the table behind you and leaves you to finish getting ready for the day. You edge back to sit against the bed, letting a small giggle escape from your lips, not sure the past twelve hours had actually even happened.

What on earth was he thinking.

[angelicspaceprince]

Ouija

Author: Ama

Title: Ouija

Pairing: Possible Future Beetlejuice/Reader

Character/s: Beetlejuice

Word Count: 2, 473 words

Warnings: Beetlejuice has dyslexia, I do not, I tried.

Tags: @yankyo, @justballoonfishthings, @breadbudzo, @aethersghoulette, @ironically-deadinside, @beetlejuicecansteponme, @beetlebitchywitch (some of you asked, some of you I just tagged bc)

Prompt: You find a Ouija board and end up communicating with a ghost who has trouble spelling. Together you figure out a way for him to communicate with you a little bit easier.

Notes: I promised this fic like ages ago, based off of @slut-4-beetlejuice hcs that they wrote ages ago and we kinda did a dance of reblogs where we added to each other. But yeah, this is what I came up with! My plan for this fic is to do it in two parts and if y’all want more I can write more later, but I’m basically gonna portray your side of the story and then our favourite residential ghost with the most. This, obviously, is the reader’s side of the story. This is my first attempt at writing Beetlejuice as a fic, not as a hc so please be gentle with me. I hope y’all enjoy!Also, I had speechie friendo talk to me about dyslexia and I based Beej’s spelling mistakes around the notes she sent me.

Ouija Board Inspiration

Buy Me a Coffee

Ouija

It had started out innocently enough. You were bored and decided to spend the day exploring your new attic. You found a box filled with old games and decided that you wanted to sort through them, see if any were unusual or rare that you could keep. Most of them, you planned to donate somewhere, or put them back into storage.

You weren’t expecting much. Maybe a torn-up game of Twister, or Mouse Trap. Half a pack of Uno cards, or a ruined game of Trouble, and for the most part, you got what you expected. But when you found the Ouija board, you were a little surprised. Most of the games were for children, and weren’t in good enough nick to keep, let alone play. But the Ouija board looked like it just came out of the factory that created it. You go to lift the case from the bottom of the box, surprised by how heavy it was when you started to lift, nearly dropping it twice when you finally got it out and onto the table in front of you. Carefully, you lift the lid.

No wonder it was heavy. The Ouija board was wooden, and bigger than you were expecting. The dark wood had been engraved with the usual things a Ouija has, Yes, No, Goodbye, numbers 0-9 and every letter of the alphabet, the outside decorated with various designs you couldn’t make out in the dark. The one you could recognise was the pentagram engraved between the Yes and the No on the board. The planchette was also heavy, made from the same wood as the board, engraved with just two x’s, indicating where to put your finger.

You look over at the board as you hold the planchette in your hands. You were bored, yes. The attic was now in a state, yes. But the urge to test out the Ouija board was beginning to get too great. You organise yourself on the floor, placing the planchette in the middle of the board and just.... waiting. Not really sure on what to do now.

“Uh…hello?” Your voice is uncertain before you yelp when the cursor on the board begins to move. Yes, your fingers are on the x’s, but you weren’t providing any pressure. It just moved on its own.

‘H – I.’ The cursor spells out as your brain sort circuits as it returns to the centre of the board.

“Uhhhhh.” You pause, not sure how to proceed. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?” The planchette seems to shake a little before moving towards the ‘No’ part of the board, returning to the centre. “You don’t want to tell me?” It moves back to the ‘No’. “That’s ok then. Can I ask if you’re really dead?” It moves to the ‘Yes’. “Is that yes I can ask, or yes you are?”

‘YES, I – A – M – D – E – D.’ You repeat the phrase once you’ve spelt out the letters quietly to show you’re aware of which letter the ghost was indicating with. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d get a response, or one so soon.”

‘F – L – G – U – R – E – D.’

“Can I ask some questions about life after death?” You wait for the cursor to move over the Yes before continuing. “Is there a hell?”

So, it continued. Every day, after work, you’d come home and race up to the attic and spend time talking to your ghostly friend, who still wouldn’t tell you their name. All you knew was they were dead, had been for centuries, were bored, and were something called a bio-exorcist (which took a couple of attempts to spell). You also learnt that any form of parental figure, they hated, and any form of rules and regulations was not something they enjoyed.

You also noticed that they had a weird tendency to refuse certain questions or struggled to spell words correctly when they did. Sure, exorcist, intelligence and February weren’t easy words to spell when you weren’t writing them down, but replacing b’s for d’s and p’s for q’s, c’s for o’s and n’s for m’s. There were a lot of little things you picked up over time made you think perhaps there was more to this story.

So, you changed direction. One evening, you were talking about work and things that annoyed you and a question you thought they’d be fine answering, but the planchette just started to shake. You pause for a second, trying to figure out what was wrong. “Do you want to answer the question?” The cursor slides quickly and heavily to the ‘Yes’, causing you to move your whole body with it before it tentatively returns to the centre of the board. You think for a second as the planchette continues to vibrate with what feels like annoyance. “Can you spell the answer?” The planchette stops moving and everything is still. It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. You wait for thirty seconds before you say “Hello?” and like that, the cursor slowly, tentatively, goes over towards the ‘No’ part of the board followed by a ‘A-L-W-A-Y-S-B-E-E-M-A-B-A-D-S-P-E-L-E-R. “Oh. That’s ok, I’m pretty rubbish without spell check too. Take your time.” Everything stops for a second, the energy that is always humming when you’re up here seems to have dropped to a low throb, and you slowly remove your hands from the planchette as you think.

‘How can I make this easier for them?’ You hum for a second before returning your hands to the board. “Would you prefer yes or no questions?” The planchette slides quickly over to the ‘Yes’ and you smile. “Ok, if something isn’t a yes or no question, I’ll provide answers and you can slide to the numbers to tell me which one is appropriate. Does that work?” Again, ‘Yes’.

Life moves on. It was weird at first, but you got used to asking only yes or no questions and becoming content with that as a response. A few more weeks went by, you slowly began to spend more time talking to the ghost in the attic. It was fascinating, and you were lonely and suspected they were too. Why else would they talk to you night after night after night? You never brought up the idea that perhaps they may have been lonely, but you focused on making sure like they felt like they had a friend.

A few more weeks had passed before you came up with a new idea. As good as it was to make them feel like they weren’t stupid for their spelling, you felt like you were muting them or speaking on their behalf. So, on your Saturday evening as you ate your dinner and you asked a question about if they enjoyed scaring people whenever they got the chance and the planchette moved by its own accord, you stared down at the board for a few minutes in shock. “You can move things WITHOUT me helping?”

‘Yes.’

“Why the fuck do I have to hold it then?” You forget to offer options as you take a breath, hearing the planchette slide across the board. “Its fine, I was just in shock.” You explain, not looking at what the ghost was being said. An idea pings in your head. “With your bad spelling, does it affect your reading or is it easier? One for both are hard, two for reading is easier.”

The planchette wobbles for a second before it slides over between the two. ‘R-E-A-D-I-M-G-I-S-S-T-I-L-L-H-A-R-D.’ It spells out. ‘B-UT-N-O-T-A-S-H-A-R-D-A-S-S-P-E-L-I-M-G.’

You can sense the confusion in the room as you nod, already thinking of a plan. “Have you always struggled with reading and spelling?” ‘A-L-W-A-Y-S-B-U-T-I-N-J-U-S-T-S-T-U-P-I-D’ You you’re your heart break slightly when they call themselves that. “Sweetheart, have you ever heard of the term dyslexia?” ‘No’. “It’s where your brain struggles to recognise letters or sounds, it makes it hard for people to read and write. They often miss letters or get letters mixed up, or sometimes even add letters that aren’t meant to be there.” You explain gently. “I think you may have the same kind my friend has. He reads a lot even though it’s a struggle, but if you get him to spell, he’s absolutely hopeless. Amazing at math, though. Like a walking calculator.” You smile as you get distracted before you shake your head and bring yourself back to the present. “I don’t think you’re stupid, love, I think perhaps your brain just isn’t wired to like letters and words.” You explain as you fiddle with your hands, unsure on where to put them. The planchette doesn’t move, but you can feel the air growing thicker.

‘N-O-T-S-T-U-P-I-D’ – the planchette draws a question mark over the entire board. You shake your head.

“Not stupid at all, pet.” A few seconds pass before the planchette moves over to the ‘Goodbye’ section. You sigh, slightly disappointed that they wanted to leave so soon. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You ran late to work the next day, replaying the conversation in your head with your resident ghost over and over again as it kept you up later and later into the night. Your plan wasn’t well thought out at this stage, but you could get things started.

You stay late after work to make up for the hour that you missed this morning before rushing to the bookshop, making it there 10 minutes before they closed. You found what you wanted and quickly purchased it before rushing home, making sure to grab something for dinner as you drive home.

The moment you arrived home and placed your bags by the front door, the house felt empty. For the first time since using the Ouija board, the house felt like you were the only one in it. Pulling out the Ouija board, you asked if they were here. Nothing. You put your fingers on the planchette. Nothing again. You call out to them to see if they were there, nothing. You sigh before packing it back up. Perhaps your new-found friend had moved on.

It was a few days before your ghostly friend returned. The house had felt barren the entire time they were gone, you had stopped bringing out the board the day they returned, figuring that they just weren’t going to come back. A loud crash from the living room caused you to run out from the kitchen where you were preparing dinner to see what had happened. On the floor was the Ouija board, set up and ready to go with the planchette moving wildly across the board, so fast you couldn’t keep up.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on.” You rush back upstairs to grab the item you had purchased for them the week prior before rushing back downstairs and putting it next to the board with a satisfying thud. “I got you a dictionary, they had one with pictures which I thought could help.” You explain to where you hoped the ghost was. You put a pen in front of the giant book. “Just…. point I guess to the word you want to say. If you want to try it this way that is, I thought it might be easier for you.”

The air seemed thick as you waited for something to move, the planchette or the book. Suddenly, the cover of the book seemed to gingerly open as the ghost slowly looked for the words he was looking for. ‘IT-IS-EASIER’ they indicated with the pen. You smile as the pages begin to turn in a flurry, clearly excited to be able to communicate with you a bit easier.

So, life continued. The ghost (who you later found out was a man) would follow you from room to room, carrying the pen and the book to indicate different words to you, making comments on nearly everything that he wasn’t able to before, from the shade of paint on your walls (he thought they should be green) to what you were wearing (he was really into you wearing stripes for some reason), he would readily give your opinion on everything. It was weird, but you could feel yourself slowly falling for the now forever talking ghost. The freedom that came with the dictionary meant that your conversations become more…. conversation like. He wasn’t restricted to just yes or no answers, and you weren’t restricted to staying in one room. You found yourself having dinners next to the constantly page flipping book and laughing at his bad jokes and giving some back of your own. You found small doodles on the outside of the dictionary too, his own little crude drawings he did when you weren’t home. It was nice, it felt like some kind of perverse kind of domestic.

It had been months since your initial contact with him, and you still didn’t know his name and, to be honest, it was beginning to bug you. You didn’t say or show your annoyance about not knowing his name, but you figured it was time you knew. So, when you came home that night and had set up your dinner in your usual set up, you finally decided to ask. “Can I know your name?”

It took a minute before your squatter decided to respond. ‘ORION-BRIGHT-STAR’.

“Orion’s brightest star?” You say, almost as a question as you pull out your phone to do a quick Google. “Beetlejuice?” You look up to see a fury of pages flying as he quickly makes his way over to the ‘A’ section of the dictionary.

‘AGAIN’

“Beetlejuice?”

The pen slams back down on the page. ‘AGAIN.’

You hesitate. “Beetlejuice?”

There was a crash, a bang, and way too much smoke that filled the room as bright green lights seemed to radiate from outside your house. You cough and wave your hand to clear the smoke from your mouth when you finally hear it.

“Thanks for that babes, I’ve been wanting you to see me for months now.” You blink before you see him. He was-

Cuter than you were expecting. Shorter too. Not the scary man you had envisioned, but rather an adorable guy dressed in arguably way too many stripes, even though it seemed to suit. The green in his hair was vibrant and his whole being seemed to shake with excitement. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to say.

“What’s wrong babes? Cat got your tongue?” He leans in closer to take a better look at you, but all you could focus on was the bright green of his eyes.

“You’re hotter than I imagined.” You heard yourself say before you turn bright, bright red. The grin on his face widens as he chuckles lowly, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh babes, we are going to have so much fun.”

[jjkfire]

Hello! I saw your answer regarding the islamophobia issues and I just wanted to sincerely thank you on behalf of many muslims for telling others the sides of their kindness you've experienced. Although I'm not a muslim myself, I have many muslim friends and I'm very thankful as they are one of the best people I've met. Really don't understand how some people can judge others just because of a headscarf and a differing set of beliefs. Thank you so much, and may only good things come to you :)

Also wanted to encourage you on your writings! I've been reading your works and I can honestly say that you are one of my favourite writers on tumblr! I hope you don't stress yourself, just know that there will be people supporting you whether or not you post! take your time creating a work that you yourself are satisfied with, no matter whether others think is good or not! I'll be cheering you on, fighting!! :)

i think many people are just afraid of things that are new and unknown to them or at least I hope so. i think as non-muslims we should speak up against the discrimination because those who are being discriminated often get their views discounted or cast-aside. anyway, i only did what i felt was right bc it honestly hurts me when people talk about muslims like that sigh ): i feel their pain bc that’s my friends they’re talking about & my fellow countrymen they’re hating on. I only hope for the day that those who hate the religion so much actually befriend a muslim and talk to them and realise that they were wrong about muslims the whole time. and yes! i cant believe that there exists a group of people who are so darn hateful. anyway!! may good things come to you too!

(’: ahhhh thank you so so much for your kind words!! one of your faves asdf im actually squealing! thank you for the words of encouragement eep i truly appreciate this message. im slowly but surely making my way through a variety of fics that i hope i’ll be updating soon. but thank you! for giving me that comfort haha sometimes i really do feel upset that i can’t write as fast as i used to but !!! it’s all good. ah you’re so nice! i hope you have a wonderful week ahead you lovely anon

[olusegundare]

Brother Samson And Sister Debbie’s Story continues

Sista Debbie writes, "And I slept in his room for the first time". (June 16, 2013)

On the day some graduates who are jobless wrote an employment exams @ a nearby town did I went 2 my love's shop. I prepared his delicious meal, which is pounded yam with melon soup...He did not like engine grinded pounded yam, he says dat d so called engine pounded yam is not usually soft n well articulated 2geda like d 1 pounded in a morter by pestle...such engine grinded boiled yams do have lattices n inter-callaces, spaces, d atoms and ions are scattered, dey do not form a good compound, its cohesive forces are not strong...it does not form a good ball, good morsel,, when rolled 2geda by d fingers b4 dipping into d soup b4 going into d mouth 4 onward swallowing...it is essentially not a good representation of pounded yam, although it is fair, manageable, but nay good, if some1 has ever tasted such b4...so my love said...

Having felt his pulse on this, and having understand my one and only one...I decide 2 pound d yam...it was smooth, soft, succulent like a baby's ear-lobe...Before I did dis, I have grinded pepper, tomatoes, onions, locust bean, I added cray-fish and melon, all these were grinded on d ancient mortar...People, expert women in cooking, say dat pepper grinded using ancient stone mortar is usually sweeter than d ones grinded by engines, d new technological inventions...Afta I was thru with dis, I have gotten other additives like vegetables, dry fishes, lungs and liver of animals which I have cut 2 small sizes,...all these r going into d grinded melon n others...On d 2nd kerosine stove, I boiled d meat, cow meat, whose nearly dried boiled water shall also serve as other additives to d melon 2 be cooked...Afta dis I fried d meats and a little pepper which i shall add on d melon-vegetable soup afta it is done...At d expiration of d soup did I peeled d Yams and put it on fire...Washed d mortar

And psetle...getting set for the pounding...Afta all said n done, I was thru with all...Afta I took my bathe, arranged d foods in order...off 2 my love's office cum shop...As usual, he was busy in his office, preparing some notes, I guess he shall be ministering 2moro @ d church or perhaps he had an impromptu message 2 deliver @ a place, because he looked subsumed in his thoughts and writings, but I am yet 2 be fully briefed of what he is busy doing in his office...I entered, genuflected few millimeters off d door frame as I stepped into his office...dropped my bag on a settee...and said, "ẹ ku isẹ oni o", I did not wait 4 his response as I walked to his side hugged him and pecked him on d right cheek...took about 3 steps back and dropped d container containing his cooked food @ a corner behind where he sits...""O se o" , but u are a bit late", he replied. "Ẹ má mà dami lohun", I said, as I was dropping d bag. "What is it that has kept u back all dis while?" He asked, as he continue

Writing. "Se ẹ nisẹ fun mi ni?" I asked. "Oh yes. Oh no..." He paused 4m what he was writing, I guess he has muddled up some points...he then speaks loud, ostentatiously not to me, that, ""...As he journied on, he stopped...He will also stop to answer you today and now in Jesus name..." I said "amen". He was quickly writing this down 4m dis I discern dat I am disturbing d flow of "stuffs" which I guess is spiritual, then, I excused myself 4m his office as I said, "My love, am so, so sorry to disturb you, let me go and join the sales staff @ sales department, and when u are thru u can call 4 me". "Oh, thank you dearie...I am sorry 4 the inability 2 attend 2 u now,...I shall soon be through with this section and I will come over and meet you there", he said, dropping the ball-pen, resting his back on the chair and looking directly @ me..."It is no problem "mai" lord, take good care of yourself and do the right justices to the outlined points, as we also continue with the other aspects,

Division of labour "sé", (he nodded his head in affirmative) selling the stocked goods", I said... ""Ẹ se o", I should be thru soon..." he said, half of this last statement I didnt hear because I have already opened d office door, so d noise of the office door as it moves on the hinge dat fastened it to d oda part of d structure shielded his words 4m my hearing...I also gave d sales department staffs their foods, I wrapped their pounded yams in a leaf, "ewe iran" as it is called in our Island and I put their soup in "take-aways", a combustible bowl like structure. The sales staffs are doing justices 2 d food one afta anoda...They did not eat d food @ once dis is done so dat there shall be free staffs to attend 2 customers...Afta a while, every1 has eaten his/her portion...we continued selling things @ d sales department/outlet, but when there is no customer, we resort 2 gisting...we are also taking note of the goods that are out-of-stock, those that are few copies left...so dat "mai"

Lord be intimated of what is left in stock and he wil place orders for more copies as soon as soon can be...I got to d shop @ 14:30 hours the Island's time, but as @ 15:30 hours "mai" love is yet 2 come out...he though sends messages 2 update me through facebook...@ 16:15 hours, he finally came out of his office... ""Se ko si "problems" pẹlu awọn "customers" o"", he said as he walked 2 where I am, placed his 2 palms on my shoulders, becuase I was facing outside while I back d office, as I felt his palms on my shoulders, so I felt his lips touching my head, because my hair was plaited and I had no scarf or cap on...he kissed my head like the Europeans..."I think i love this", I said 2 mysef...""Ko si" problems sire", a staff replied.... ""Agbara Ọlọrun ka awọn to wa "sire", another staff added...""To ò, ẹ ku isẹ o", he said...After he has answered them, he spoke 2 me in a hushed tone, ""Ẹ ku ijoko, se o binu pupọ?" he asked....I shook my head for negativity, ""rara o". Why would I be

Angry? With whom shal I be annoyed? How shall I be miffed?" I asked....He has now put his hands by d arms of d chair, his right hand on d right arm of d chair while his left rests on d left arm of d chair, as he rested his chin on my right shoulder...Just then, one of d staffs looked back and said, ""ỌGA",I like this posture "o"" the other sales staffs looked back and they started commenting, as if we have posted a comment on d facebook, "me too sire", anoda staff said, ""Eleyi ko" bad "o"", anoda staff yet added...."Let us take the picture sire" a staff said and they all chorused thus, "Yes. Yes. Yes. The picture, it shal be good for your profile..." They did not even wait 4 a reply 4m any of us as someone out of them took my fone 4m d table and took the picture...afterwards he said, ""Ọga, look at it, isnt it lovely?" Turning 2 me, he said "abi anti? Isnt it innovative and enthralling?" My love took it 4m him looking @ it he said, ""Ẹyin lẹ mọ̀, se bi ẹ ti yà á tan"".

"No sire. Not a matter of "sebi a ti yà á tan", to be frank and sincere sire, pass comment", a staff said. "Hum... Well...I think so", my love said.... ""Mo mọ tọga bẹ́ẹ̀", I think "nã ni" always", anoda staff enthused. "Ok. What do u want me 2 say, "ẹyin ọmọ yi"", my love said. Anoda staff replied, "With all sense of humility and respect sire", bowing his head, "we expect a nay or yea answer 4m you sire. Isnt this picture respledent, lovely, gorgeous, inspiring, enthralling, tantalizing,..." My love interjected, "I think you have made millions today...or what really happened? Because all of you are joyous", he asked. "We bless God 4 today's sales "ná ọga", as you all know no dull moment with us here, because the joy of the Lord is our strong room (someone among them said "Yes o") but that apart sire, isnt this pics inviting?" the staff concludes. Another staff said, "This pics shall hit the enemies @ a dangerous place sire, when they see it on air". ""O dara nã", it is fine. "Kilẹ fẹ

Gbà nidi ọrọ yi?" My love said.... They all clapped their hands, as if they have re-hearsed it before they chorused, ""Oluwa seun". That is what we wanna hear", a staff added "1st time in history "ọga" conceeds d discussion 2 us". My love pulled me up 4m where I am sitting down as if glued by something 2 d seat watching the master-servant season movie part 8..."Please let us go into d office, because "awọn ọmọ yi ko ni jẹ ka gbadun ọrọ wa nibiyi o"" he said as he helped me 2 my feet with his right hands around my scapular. As I was standing up, someone said, "Please "ọga" on behalf of all", we are both standing now, with his hand yet around me, listening to d staff, "I want u 2 help us thank anti 4 d delicious meal she gave us today o, "mo wi ire tabi ngo wi ire"?" He enthused as he faced his colleagues waiting 4 an answer. They all chorused the answer, "O wi ire". "Ọga", my love said, ""oun na ti ngbọ bayẹn", pls let us go jare"", he added. ""A kì í dupẹ ara ẹni", I said as he allows

As he allows me 2 walk ahead, placing his palms on my shoulders like Island's children while playing games in d moonlight... In his office he told me how pastor phoned him dat he shd prepare 4 message 2moro bc God laid d burden on his heart...He said he has texted me 2 Intimate me dat blessed devpt, but I have not received d text till i got 2 him, all these network problems... Afta he ate his food...He gave me money 2 go n buy oda fudstuffs n prepare soup 4 him...dis also shal afford him d opportunity 2 complete d msg he was preparing... Afta I was tru @ d market, I got 2 his room in a "face me I slap you" house in d Island around 18:45 hours...prepared d foods n soups...He got home around 20:50 hours...2 minutes afta rain began...A heavy rain...it rained 4 an hour...d streets are deserted...I wasnt too sure of how intact d adjoining bridge dat was constructed by communal efforts dat linked my street with d main street shall be, bc well b4 dis heavy rain, erosion has been washing away d edges...so we, my one and only and I, concluded dat I shd sleep in his house dat nyt...

Afta eating, bathing, changing and prayers, I lay on bed...so furtunate 4 us dat d electricity providers of d Island didnt switch off d electricity 2 d island dat day...it was a rare occasion in d island, having electricity during rain...we bless God 4 dat... As I laid on d bed, he returned 2 his writing desk, "wont u rest a while?" I asked. "I shall do but not now", he said. "This man must be a "work-a-holic", what some psychologists called type-A personality", I thousght... As a solemn christian worship song was coming out of his DVD player...I was following d wordings and the rhythm, I did not know when I slept off... @ d midnight, 00:15 hours, I opened my eyes only 2 find him sleeping on a mat on d floor..., "this man "shá", wont he have body ache 2moro? Sleeping on mat? I cannot remember when last I slept on mat...as I think of dis, I fell asleep again...by 04:00 hours, I come out of sleep again...he was awake praying..."Huh, my one and only, broda Samson! Is dis his life-cycle?" I questioned myself. I also attempted praying some silent prayers as he was doing...but I couldnt sustain it bc my eyes were heavy with sleep thus I fell asleep again...around 05:30 hours, I felt his hand gently tapping me..."wake up and let us pray", he said....

DIFFICULT WORDS MEANINGS

*Sista Debbie writes, "And I slept in his room for the first time". (June 16, 2013)

1 (MEANS one

"ẹ ku isẹ oni o", (translation how is work oh)

O se o" , (translation thank you oh)

 "Ẹ má mà dami lohun", (translation don’t mind me)

"Se ẹ nisẹ fun mi ni?" (translation do you have work for me? Or do you want to send me an errand?)

"sé", (translation is it) (he nodded his head in affirmative)

""Ẹ se o", (translation Thank you oh)

"ewe iran" (translation is a characteristic big leaf in our land that is being used to wrap things. Hawkers in the olden days and presently in the rural areas use it to wrap things for their buyers

""Se ko si "problems" pẹlu awọn "customers" o"", (translation I hope there is no problems with the customers oh)

...""Ko si" problems sire", (translation there is no problems sir)

""Agbara Ọlọrun ka awọn to wa "sire", (translation The power of God is able for all who come (it is a way of saying with the help of God we have been able to attend to all the customers that come here today, that is the way the Yorubas speak)

To ò, ẹ ku isẹ o", (translation Alright. Weldone)

""Ẹ ku ijoko, se o binu pupọ?" (translation.i hope you are not annoyed for keeping you sitting all this while?)

 ""rara o". (translation no, not at all)

""ỌGA", (translation Master) 

""Eleyi ko" bad "o"", (translation This is not bad or this is good)

""Ẹyin lẹ mọ̀, se bi ẹ ti yà á tan"". (translation That is left to you. Have you finished taken the picture?)

"sebi a ti yà á tan", (translation have we finished taken the picture)

""Mo mọ tọga bẹ́ẹ̀", (translation I have known our master for this)

"nã ni" (translation I think is what he would only say)

"ẹyin ọmọ yi"", (translation You these children)

"ná ọga", (translation in a way master)

""O dara nã", it is fine. "Kilẹ fẹ Gbà nidi ọrọ yi?" (translation okay now, it is fine. What do you want to be given for all these?)

 ""Oluwa seun". (translation Bless the Lord or Lord be blessed)

"ọga" (translation master)

"awọn ọmọ yi ko ni jẹ ka gbadun ọrọ wa nibiyi o"" (translation These children (or my members of staff) would be disturbing or interrupting our discussions here oh)

"ọga" (translation Master)

"mo wi ire tabi ngo wi ire"?" (translation Have I spoken well or not?)

"O wi ire". (translation You have spoken well)

"Ọga", (translation Master)

""oun na ti ngbọ bayẹn", pls let us go jare"", (translation she is hearing what you are saying, don’t mind them, please let us go)

""A kì í dupẹ ara ẹni", (translation You are welcome)

"face me I slap you" (translation this is a room by room apartment in the nation where a room will face another room, it is not a self-contain room, but rooms in a row without partition but separated by passage where those inhabiting the rooms will have access to the same toilet, bathrooms and toilets. Just like an office that face another office, that is some buildings are in the country

[cccto-semi-pro]

The Remnant of God in the World: Daniel

RECAP & PREPARING FOR CG Daily Reading for Week

Esther 6-10, Psalm 54  

Daniel 1-3, Psalm 55

Daniel 4-6, Psalm 56  

Daniel 7-9, Psalm 57

Daniel 10-12, Psalm 58

Haggai 1-2, Psalm 59  

Zechariah 1-4, Psalm 60  

Resources for Week

Read Scripture Video: Daniel

Read: Daniel 7

FOCUS OF TIME TOGETHER

To participate in an intense study on how to begin reading Jewish apocalyptic literature and to practice these hermeneutic skills together by taking a careful look at Daniel 7.

GROUND RULE / GOAL / VALUE FOR THE WEEK

Goal: Our goal this week is to practice intellectual humility by laying our ideas and presuppositions aside for a bit in order to explore truth in interdependent community. Participate in discussion with an intent to assist in the group’s shared exploration rather than either refusing to participate or trying to coerce the group to see things your way.

CONNECTION AND UNITY EXERCISE (MUTUAL INVITATION)

Share your highs and lows from the week.

OPENING PRAYER

Sit silently for three minutes. As you do, listen for any thoughts or pictures or ideas that go through your mind that may be inspired by the Holy Spirit. After this silent prayer, take a couple minutes to invite one another to share anything they may have heard.

Then read this prayer aloud:

Lord, grant us pure hearts and clear minds; Direct us in discerning what is good and true and beautiful; Guide us along the path of wisdom and lead us in the way of humility; We are frail and fallible creatures; Be near to us, Lord; Amen.

INTRO TO DISCUSSION

This week’s material is an intense study on the hermeneutics of apocalyptic literature using Daniel 7 as our focus. It is perhaps the most rigorous study of the year. We chose to structure the material this way because we didn’t feel it would be faithful to the goal of YOBL or the book of Daniel to skip the hermeneutic work necessary to grow in our Bible-reading skills. Accordingly, there will be more content to digest than usual. Because of this, we’ve changed the normal structure to make the content more digestible. There will also be no structured small group time. Focus your energy on reading and understanding the ideas presented. Then, honestly process your emotional responses to your past and current interactions with apocalyptic literature and the variety of interpretations in the church.

LARGE GROUP DISCUSSION

Questions for Basic Understanding

These questions are to help us interpret and understand the text as it was intended to be interpreted and understood.

Read:

The Book of Daniel in Context Last week, we began our final series on Old Testament books called “The Remnant of God in the World,” chronicling the final chapters in the Old Testament story about God’s plan to heal the world through His people Israel. In Ezra and Nehemiah, we read historical sketches of the first Jewish exiles who returned to Jerusalem to start over again by rebuilding the Temple, relearning the Torah, and reconstructing the city walls. We saw this exciting moment of liberation turn anticlimactic as division and turmoil broke out among those trying to be God’s renewed people in Jerusalem. Before long, the same evil and idolatry that led to the punishment of exile in the first place resurfaced, begging the questions: Is exile really over? Has this surviving remnant of the people of God truly been purged and purified of anything? Where do we go from here?

Interestingly, the book of Daniel serves as dual bookends to Ezra and Nehemiah, acting as both preface and conclusion to the return-to-Jerusalem story. In Daniel 5 and 6, we read how Daniel’s skilled and faithful work as a government official combined with his great spiritual wisdom and divine connection to the Jewish God earned him honor with the Babylonian rulers Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar as well as the other kings who eventually overthrew Babylon. Following the “writing on the wall” events of chapter 5, the Babylonian empire was conquered by what is called the Median-Persian Empire. King Darius the Mede, now ruling over the land, was so moved by Daniel’s divine vindication and protection in the lion’s den that he actually endorsed Judaism throughout the empire. Chapter 6 concludes with: “So Daniel prospered during the reign of Darius and the reign of Cyrus the Persian.” When Ezra 1:1 says that “The Lord moved the heart of Cyrus king of Persia to make a proclamation throughout his realm [releasing Jews to go home and build the Temple],” it is fair to say that Daniel was the primary vessel God used to do so. In other words, Daniel’s faithful witness within the Babylonian government was one of the central causes for the release of the Jews from exile. The great restart recorded in Ezra-Nehemiah was only possible because of him.

But also, the book of Daniel serves as a concluding synopsis to Ezra-Nehemiah that at least partially answers the questions raised about whether the exile was truly over and how then God’s people would live. Remember that in Jeremiah 29:10, Jeremiah recorded a promise from God to release Israel from exile after seventy years. The return to rebuild the Temple seemed to mark the end of this punishment and the beginning of the promised liberation. Daniel was hopeful for this too: “In the first year of Darius son of Xerxes (a Mede by descent), who was made ruler over the Babylonian kingdom — in the first year of his reign, I, Daniel, understood from the Scriptures, according to the word of the Lord given to Jeremiah the prophet, that the desolation of Jerusalem would last seventy years” (Dan 9:1-2). Therefore, Daniel becomes hopeful that he may indeed live to see the end of exile and goes to bring about God’s promised action by confessing on behalf of Israel. This leads to a shocking and disheartening word from God:

“While I was still in prayer, Gabriel, the man I had seen in the earlier vision, came to me… He instructed me and said to me, ‘Daniel, I have now come to give you insight and understanding. As soon as you began to pray, a word went out, which I have come to tell you, for you are highly esteemed. Therefore, consider the word and understand the vision:

“‘Seventy ‘sevens’ are decreed for your people and your holy city to restrain transgression, to put an end to sin, to atone for wickedness, to bring in everlasting righteousness, to seal up vision and prophecy and to anoint the Most Holy Place.’” (Daniel 9:21-24, abbreviated)

In other words, what Ezra-Nehemiah chronicled in story form, Daniel documents in a divine vision-message: The seventy years of exile haven’t accomplished their purpose — Israel hasn’t been purified of its sinful nature and is not yet ready to be the holy people of God who bring “everlasting righteousness” to the world. The seventy years of exile didn’t accomplish all that needs to be accomplished, and therefore exile will continue. Rather than just 70 years, Israel will experience various forms of oppression and persecution for seven times that, or roughly 490 years. This heartbreaking notion proves true over the next several hundred years of Israel’s history leading to Christ: First, as we saw, the Median-Persian Empire takes over, then Alexander the Great and the Greeks, then the Syrian/Seleucid Empire, and finally Rome. For five centuries following the return of the exiles to Jerusalem, life for the Old Testament people of God is a form of continued political punishment. Exile repeats itself over and over. This historical reality is, not coincidentally, both why Daniel was written and also why it was written the way that it was.

Note that the overall book was written about Daniel, but not by Daniel. Though it contains his writings, the writings are pieced together and narrated by someone who refers to Daniel in the third person. Many scholars think that the book was either written or newly annotated around 160 BC, several generations after the first remnant returned to Israel. During this time, the Jews suffered yet another horrendous persecution, this time under Antiochus and the Syrian (or Seleucid) Empire. It is likely that these circumstances of exile, similar to Daniel’s in Babylon, were the motivation for converting the old oral testimony of Daniel’s faithful obedience into the more artistic and formalized literary book we have today. This book, with its hopeful (though cryptic) visions of God’s eventual victory over the violent beasts of world empires and the heroic example of Daniel’s faithfulness, would have been a tremendously valuable resource for another generation of oppressed Jews. In this sense, the historical testimony of Daniel’s life and visions which occurred around 580-520 BC were able to speak powerfully to God’s people in later eras of violent oppression, both in the 2nd century BC under the Syrian Empire as well as in Jesus’ day under the brutal Roman regime. This is, in large part, what made the Book of Daniel one of the most popular literary texts in Jesus’ own day as well as one of the texts most widely referenced in the New Testament.

Ask:

How does hearing the context for Daniel help in your understanding of Ezra and Nehemiah?

Read:

The Book of Daniel as Apocalyptic Literature The literary context that inspired the book of Daniel was the social/political landscape of God’s people centuries after Daniel’s life in Babylon. The landscape of persecution under brutal Syrian rule was eerily similar to the earlier torment of Babylonian oppression. It is this similarity of situations, not the exact details of each historical period, that inspired the form and content of Daniel, especially the seemingly strange visions in chapters 7-12. This differentiation will be crucial as we dive into exploring these texts.

Before we do, however, we must introduce a term: Apocalyptic. We use the term apocalyptic to mean pertaining to the end of the world — an apocalypse (typically where everything somehow explodes). But apocalyptic, or apocalypticism, is also a noun labeling a literary genre that became quite common in the ancient and Biblical world. Examples of Biblical apocalyptic include Daniel 7-12, Revelation, parts of Isaiah, and Ezekiel’s visions of the flying, flaming chariot made of heavenly creatures depicting God’s glory.

These texts strike us as absurd, nonsensical, and even scary. However, the ancient readers to whom these words were written would have felt no such discomfort. They would have been familiar with the symbolism and imagery in a way that would be hard for us to believe. It’s worth it, therefore, to state a truism: We are utterly illiterate at reading apocalyptic literature and stand before these texts at a tremendous disadvantage. They require more homework and hermeneutic effort than perhaps any other books of the Bible. In terms of reading through the Bible in order to become more Biblically literate, the apocalyptic texts are like the big bad bosses at the end of a video game. Indeed, scholar Aaron Chalmers dubs apocalyptic “prophecy on steroids.” It is perhaps apt then that they are mostly found toward the end of the Old and New Testaments. In fact, throughout history, more corrosive ideas and evil actions have stemmed from misreadings of apocalyptic literature than from probably any other.

The term apocalyptic comes from the Greek word apokalypsis which means to reveal or unveil knowledge that was previously hidden. Apocalyptic is symbolic picture-language, almost like political cartoons, that serve to speak both to current realities and to universal types. Specifically, such language was often used to speak simultaneously to various details of real-life present circumstances as well as to elevate the meaning of such things above those particular details to illustrate what is typological or paradigmatic. In other words, apocalyptic isn’t mostly concerned with symbolically predicting specific future events but with illustrating paradigms that tend to repeat themselves throughout history. Typically written in the context of crisis, Biblical apocalyptic aims to encourage hope in its hearers by lifting their countenance above the daunting realities of their current struggle and to illustrate the ways in which God is sovereign and powerful over even the worst the world has to offer. Apocalyptic aims to visually depict to oppressed people the truth that even the worst oppression is not the end of the story.

Consider the following snippets from Aaron Chalmers’ Interpreting the Prophets to help orient us toward this unfamiliar genre:

“Whereas the prophets usually envisage God acting in salvation or judgment within history, these passages seem to anticipate a climactic and decisive intervention of God that brings history (at least as we know it) to a definitive culminating point… Apocalyptic entails the revelatory communication of heavenly secrets by an other-worldly being to a seer who presents the visions in a narrative framework; the visions guide readers into a transcendent reality that takes precedence over the current situation and encourages readers to persevere in the midst of their trials. The visions reverse normal experience by making the heavenly mysteries the real world and depicting the present crisis as a temporary, illusory situation. This is achieved via God’s transforming the world for the faithful…

In apocalyptic, God reveals his previously hidden future plans usually through dreams or visions. Unlike the visions we find in the prophets, however, these are full of elaborate and, at times, strange and mysterious symbolism and/or numbers. Many of the dominant images of apocalyptic belong to the realm of fantasy or myth, or we encounter surreal, unnatural combinations. For example, Daniel 7 contains a vision of four great beasts, including a bear with tusks in its mouth and a lion with eagle’s wings, coming out of the sea, while Daniel 8 describes a goat with a horn that grows as high as the host of heaven. The meaning and significance of these dreams and visions is thus often obscure; serious interpretive work is required…

It primarily served to encourage its readers in the midst of their trials. Apocalyptic literature, like prophecy, is highly situational — it was written in order to address and respond to a specific problem in the life of the community of faith. This situation was usually one of crisis, such as rapid, destabilizing change, a severe drought or plague, or persecution.

For example, critical scholars often associate the book of Daniel (or at least chapters 7-12) with the crisis precipitated by the persecution of the Jews undertaken by Antiochus IV Epiphanes during the early second century BC. The book can be read as a commentary on the dramatic and distressing events that occurred in Israel and the broader world during his reign, which included the desecration of the Jerusalem Temple, the outlawing of distinctive Jewish rites, and the execution of those who opposed him. Daniel 7:25 appears to allude to Antiochus with its reference to the little horn ‘speaking words against the Most High, wearing out the holy ones of the Most High, attempting to change the sacred seasons and the law.’

Apocalyptic seeks to encourage, comfort, and exhort the community to continued faithfulness, in spite of whatever opposition or problems its members may be facing. It affirms that such crises are only temporary — God remains in control and he will soon act to judge the wicked and vindicate the righteous.”

Ask:

How would you describe the way you were previously taught to think about apocalyptic literature? How does the idea that apocalyptic literature is not primarily concerned with end times prophecies but symbolism regarding contemporaneous political events alter this viewpoint?

Have you ever felt embarrassed or uncomfortable about Biblical texts like Daniel or Revelation or Christian ideologies concerning the “rapture” or “antichrist”? Share any stories or reflections.

Read:

Beginning to Interpret Apocalyptic Literature More from Chalmers: “Apocalyptic texts present unique challenges to the modern interpreter. ‘No other genre of the Bible has been so fervently read with such depressing results.’ Our problems are largely a result of the fact that the apocalyptic genre has no real modern equivalent…

Impressionistic art can serve as a helpful analogy for orienting our reading of apocalyptic texts. An impressionistic painting is best appreciated from a distance. These works are composed of fine lines, dabs of paint and brush strokes that ‘combine to depict scenes of unusual vividness and emotion’. If we stand too close, however, if we concentrate simply on the lines and dabs themselves, we are unlikely to grasp what the artist intended to convey - all we will end up seeing are lines, dabs, and strokes which look rather peculiar and random in their placement. Instead, we need to take a step back and consider the work in its entirety. When we do this, we are able to appreciate how those apparently random and disjointed paint strokes, dabs and lines in fact end up working together to produce a coherent and striking whole.

Likewise, apocalyptic texts needs to be appreciated from a distance. When reading apocalyptic texts, it is worth stepping back and trying to grasp the point of the vision as a whole. What is the overall effect? What is the big picture? What is the overarching sweep of the vision or narrative? Ultimately, we need to move beyond the details to determine the primary message(s) of the entire vision. The ever-present risk is that modern readers will get so bogged down in the details of the visions that they fail to grasp the bigger picture. Or, to draw another analogy, they will see the trees but miss the forest. Individual details may be important (after all, the only reason we have a bigger picture is because it is made up of smaller details), or they may not. What is always important, however, is the significance of the vision as a whole. And, of course, it is often when we have grasped the big picture that the details within this make more sense.

Once we have grasped the big picture of the vision, it is time to focus on the details. The further we move from the general (the ‘big picture’) to the specific (‘details’), the less certain our interpretations may become. In other words, while we may be confident that we have grasped the meaning of the vision as a whole, the significance of certain specific elements within this may elude us. ‘This is not unexpected, given the allusive nature of apocalyptic visions. For much of the vision is an earthly way to think about a heavenly reality, or a present way to think about a future reality. So given our earthly and present limitations, we cannot expect to understand the meaning of each detail.’”

Ask:

Describe a moment when you’ve experienced something like impressionistic art where choosing not to focus too much on specific details helped you to better see and appreciate the overall picture.

Read: Daniel 7. As you do, keep in mind the analogy of impressionist art and focus on the big picture being painted with these images and symbols.

Ask:

What big-picture impression stood out in your mind as you read Daniel 7? In other words, what point is it trying to make?

In your mind, how important is a text like Daniel 7 to your life as a Christ-follower?

How does it make you feel to meditate on the fact that our entire faith tradition is so heavily dependent on a book, and specifically an old book that most Christians and perhaps we ourselves struggle (and often fail) to read correctly?

9. SMALL GROUP DISCUSSION

There will be no small group discussion tonight.

10. CLOSING

Spend a minute in silence, discerning any invitations the Holy Spirit may have for you — whether to dive deeper into the study of Daniel and apocalyptic on your own, to take a break from YOBL, or to make some commitment based on what you heard in the text. Make any commitments to God in prayer before one another.