#his singing is atrocious though. god bless

[vamptastic]

this is the third time ive thought a characters voice was unusually good and looked up the VA to find its todd haberkorn. hes crazy talented.

[kaykay-13]

Hello, Ideas anon here, back with more long asks and more ideas for the isekai AU.

I think I should be excused because 1) I give you ideas. 2) I write your outlines for you.

(But first, to make things legible I'm gonna split them into multiple asks. They get shorter I swear! )

SO, You know how the Canon Yun Jin is popular for her voice and her operatic singing?

What if, for whatever occasion or ceremony, the Duke and the crown princess are required to sing together during the spotlight of a festival to symbolize how in harmony they are together? How they suit each other perfectly?

Typical isekai cliché.

Now... We all know how ATROCIOUS xingqiu's singing is.

Chongyun having an easy way out of this predicament makes a suggestion: He could be the one to sing and xingqiu could just sync with him since he actually has a nice voice and had practice (in his previous life) and singing to his younger siblings (chongyun having a lot of younger siblings and being a mom when he's not playing the role of a knight is a headcanon I'll take to the grave)

Xingqiu has essentially claimed the rights over chongyun's voice.

Of course, the crown princess is the main singer and the Duke is the background singer. He can easily hide behind her and pretend to move his mouth to the lyrics.

If he just looks to the side, he can see chongyun behind the stage's curtains, singing along. And somehow, despite yun Jin dominating the performance, the Duke can't help but find his focus straying to the softer, more gentle counterpart to yun jin's segment.

His voice carries on soft and sweet against yun jin's sharp and strong notes, the contrast making for a good balance to the whole piece.

As the performance comes to a finale, the audience erupts into cheers and the royal duo are praised for the euphony and accord they share and how well they go together. They bless their union together bleh bleh.

Then comes the FL. Who wants a contest against the power couple and coincidentally... She requests chongyun to join her in a duet!

Cut to chongyun banging his head onto a wall.

He is eventually pressured into taking the stage with the FL who looks proudly and confidently onto the gossiping onlookers.

They start. The FL starts to sing and right away, you know she's gonna win. FL powers as always.

Chongyun contemplates just fainting right then and there and pretends the FL's voice was so heavenly and divine that he saw white. The light of God.

(overplayed but desperate times call for desperate measures)

He is about to cut his losses and start singing because, if he played his cards well (not let the FL intervene), the outcome would prove well for the princess and the Duke anyway because no one would disbelieve a Duke over a mere noble.

Yes, his reputation would take a hit but he's his lord ship's knight. His job is to protect him from all harm, even shame.

(The side characters are always made to be scapegoats anyway, right?)

Then-

He hears the most awful of screeches.

So bad that the FL actually slips up with the lyrics.

Chongyun, dumbfounded, looks to the side only to see this:

The Duke and the crown princess are standing behind the stage to the side. Xingqiu singing his heart away, badly. And yun Jin just standing there cupping her ears as she gives chongyun a thumbs up.

The FL winces and losses her rhyme, even her perfect voice cracks at some parts but she continues to determinedly sing on.

...

Even though the FL had a phenomenal start, the middle and the final were just atrocious.

The crowd boos and the FL escapes in tears.

The Crown princess and the Duke emerge victorious and they celebrate backstage.

Chongyun congratulates the two on their win.

Yun Jin of course corrects him by telling him it's THEIR win.

The Duke has been silent all along. Yun Jin comments on how she did not expect him to be THAT bad.

The Duke "bristles" and condescending claims that if it weren't for chongyun's sorry ass he wouldn't have to put himself out there like that and how he now has to bear the shame of having his voice heard and made public....Then he dramatically adds that chongyun has failed his duty by allowing for the Duke to make a fool of himself in front of his closest companions. He is exaggerating ofc.

Yun Jin Bursts into laughter and chongyun soon follows with short, halting chuckles while xingqiu glowers over them.

But then chongyun grimaces and yun jin asks what's wrong. Chongyun answers that he's been having a splitting headache ever since his faux performance with the FL. He's feeling a bit light-headed (for real).

Yun Jin gasps when blood starts sprouting from chongyun's nose, just pouring out profusely, staining his white uniform (signifying the loss of his virginity jkjk it could symbolize the loss of innocence too)

Chongyun not being able to handle two embarrassments in the same night, flees, leaving the royal "couple" a bit concerned.

"it's your singing isn't it?" yun Jin the ever-smart princess comments.

Chongyun escapes to the forest where he bemoans his existence once again, wiping his nose. He bumps into the FL who is shocked at the sight of blood. She makes assumptions right away.

"He hit you didn't he?!"

She assumes the Duke hit him for agreeing to sing with her.

(cue to FL thinking chongyun's being abused and is pushing her away to heroically protect her)

Exasperated, chongyun is about to correct her when she starts apologizing.

"Sorry for forcing you into this lost cause. Sorry for bringing embarrassment and shame into your name. It's my fault"

Hm? Chongyun is actually surprised at this one.

She's sincerely apologetic and means well so reluctantly he ends up reassuring her because no one's around to see.

(This is a build-up for another idea I have. Don't worry, there is no true redemption for the FL. Just development for chongyun hoho)

The next day, chongyun, being the earnest boy he is, apologizes to the Duke and the crown princess for showing such a shameful side of him lol.

Would the duke strain his ear closer to hear better when chongyun thoughtlessly hums a tune while going through the tedium? Probably. (1)

anon you are Slightly Maybe Very correct........... yun jin in this au is actually educated in all sorts of fine arts while her half brother crown prince does nothing but fool around with women and he’s going to take the throne simply because he’s a man.

cue yun jin hatching a plan with xingqiu to take over the kingdom to benefit them both. cue yun jin flaunting her skills while trying to shame yun jie (her brother). WHAT IF......... WHAT IF ALL THAT, BUT IT'S PRESENTED BY YUN JIN TO THE EMPIRE TO SHAME HER BROTHER............ under the guise of "friendly competition between siblings" of course................. AND HE TRIES TO FIND A SCAPEGOAT............... CALLS IN SOMEONE ELSE TO SING FOR HIM.............. AND THAT SOMEONE IS CHONGYUN......................... yum

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

The purpose of this post is not to argue that Biden was, or was not, fraudulently elected in the 2020 president election, but to keep a biblical perspective.

Sources report that 47% of American voters believe that large-scale fraud handed the election to Biden/Harris. Nevertheless, 49% say that fraud was unlikely. A recent NPR/Ipsos poll reported that 67% of Republicans and 11% of Democrats surveyed believe that voter fraud gave Biden election. However, the same survey showed that 19% of Republicans and 85% of Democrats disagree. In either case, dozens of millions of voters believe that there was fraud, and dozens of millions believe that there was not. Numbers do not prove whether or not it happened. The point here is that a huge swath of the US population believes that voter fraud helped usher in the next president.

It’s likely that someone you sing next to in church believes that there is ample evidence of fraud, and is grieved about it. Disdaining them as crazy conspiracists is not the best approach (cf. 1 Cor. 13:4-7, Col. 3:12-17). After all, if you’re a Christian, you believe that a peasant Hebrew crucified as a vile criminal will one day appear in the sky standing on clouds.

So for those who do feel that there was fraud, what would Scripture suggest you do? Even if there was, here are a few considerations from God’s word on the issue.

God is sovereign over unrighteousness

“In the day of prosperity be happy, but in the day of adversity consider— God has made the one as well as the other So that man will not discover anything that will be after him” (Eccles. 7:14).

Though he is not pleased with it, God is sovereign over all sin. If there was fraud, though it would grieve God, he is sovereign over it. God remains in control even in the most wretched times (Lam. 3:37-38). He was sovereign over the wretched rule of Egypt (Exod. 2:23-25), the wicked rule of Israel’s enemies in Judges (Judg. 2:14), the evil of the Assyrian deportation (2 Kings 17), the wickedness of the Babylonian exile (2 Kings 25), the unrighteousness of Herod and the Romans (Matt. 2:15), and he was even sovereign over the treacherous treatment of His own Son: “this Man, delivered over by the predetermined plan and foreknowledge of God, you nailed to a cross by the hands of godless men and put Him to death” (Acts 2:23). Despite all of this evil—often committed by governing authorities—God was never de-sovereigned by it.

“His sovereignty rules over all” (Ps. 103:19).

2. The Lord is still on the throne

No evil agenda, large or small, has ever successfully removed God from his throne. And evil men and nations have tried. They’ve done everything in their power, with satanic and demonic reinforcements, to dethrone God. It hasn’t happened and it never will (Ps. 93:1-5). The permanence of the Lord’s position on the throne of the universe is laughably unthreatened by even the greatest evils of man.

“The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against His Anointed, saying, 3 ‘Let us tear their fetters apart and cast away their cords from us!’ 4 He who sits in the heavens laughs, the Lord scoffs at them” (Ps. 2:2-4).

The sovereign, supreme rule of the God of the Bible is no more threatened by unrighteous doings and agendas of earthly rulers than his rule is threatened by a cockroach coughing in a Los Angeles sewer.

“The Lord reigns, let the peoples tremble; He is enthroned above the cherubim, let the earth shake!” (Ps. 99:1).

3. God will use unrighteousness for good

One of the ways that God proves he is sovereign is by orchestrating evil for good. We have history to prove that: Joseph’s suffering and saving a nation (Gen. 50:20), Pharaoh housing the messianic nation and its growth, the cross of Jesus Christ, and countless examples since then. Throughout history, God has masterfully moved the evil of man and government to accomplish his purposes, the greatest of which was the cross. Jesus was the recipient of unprecedented civil corruption, and God did a pretty decent job at ensuring that worked out well. We might not see how God orchestrates evil for good this side of heaven, but he’ll take care of it (Rom. 8:28). God is trustworthy.

4. Jesus is still building his church

The church has survived the harshest storms wicked men have to offer. She was birthed into the Roman Empire, who actively opposed her existence. Despite three centuries therein of persecution, her growth continued. Satan and his world have always hated and resisted the church. Even so, she has spread from Israel, to the Roman Empire through the Apostles, and to places like Africa through the Ethiopian Euncuh, the New Hebrides through John Paton, Burma through Adoniram Judson, China through Hudson Taylor, the middle east through Samuel Zwemer, and the list goes on. It’s almost like unrighteous circumstances helps the church thrive. Whatever the case, the church will never die out because Christ builds it (Matt. 16:18).

5. We are still to be about the kingdom of God

Unregenerate enemies attempted several times to distract Nehemiah and God’s people from sticking to the essential task of rebuilding the wall (Neh. 6:4). What they did was wicked. But Nehemiah and crew stuck to the main thing (Neh. 6:3-9).

In these New Covenant days, there are no less enemies and distractions that seek to pull us down from the wall. But we must keep the main thing the main thing. The kingdom of God is that thing. Regardless of what happens, our sovereign God would have us give ourselves completely to involvement in our local churches, godliness, disciple-making, prayer, love, and the word. Let us not get down from the wall (1 Cor. 15:58).

6. God will uphold justice perfectly

God is a perfect, omniscient God. Nothing escapes his notice. He is perfectly good, too, which means evil will not prevail. Regardless what someone appears to get away with, they will stand before God in the judgment (Rom. 12:17-21, Rev. 20:11-15).

7. We are all liars and sinners

An election fraud allegation is to say that lying occurred; massive, consequential lying. Among the list of things God hates, lying is mentioned twice (Prov. 6:16-19). However, people are lying every day; politicians, employers, employees, nobodies, and neighbors. Everyone lies. Lying can no more be separated from humans than their shadow. “Let God be true and every man a liar” (Rom. 3:4). That means we, too, have lied. No one is exempt. God is the only One who has never lied nor will ever.

Our lies may not be as socially consequential as others, but God is the one we stand before. On top of being liars, we are all atrociously unholy before the holy God of the universe (Rom. 3:10-19). This God requires perfection (Matt. 5:48). So, we have nothing to offer God except wickedness and weakness in and of ourselves. Due to our nature and doings, we stand guilty and unacceptable before God. Since we have all sinned against a holy God, an individual who never orchestrated widespread voter fraud deserves to spend eternity in the same hell as someone who did (Rom. 2:1-5).  

8. Jesus died on the cross and rose from the grave

However, God did not leave us to ourselves. Moved by his own compassion on sinners, and not because of anything good or righteous in us, God looked upon us with pity (Rom. 3:10-12, Eph. 1:3-6). Incredibly, our offenses against God in thought, word, nature, and deed did not move him to justly boot us all into hell. No, far from it. He radically humbled himself by joining human nature to himself and was born a baby (Phil. 2:5-7). Though he deserved unceasing worship from every human, Jesus received scorn, hate, and a humiliating and brutal crucifixion (Phil. 2:8). He received all of this on purpose in obedience to his Father’s plan to atone for the sin of his people (John 10:18). Though thoroughly sinful, Jesus so loved his people that he referred to them as, “My sheep” (John 10:26-27). Jesus then rose from the grave victorious, validating his saving work for his sheep. This is a great love, indeed. And it has everything to do with those struggling with the unrighteousness around them: we’ve all sinned, Jesus died and rose for us, and our greatest need has been met.

9. We are to pray

As every human nation and government will be filled with unrighteousness, God now calls his people to pray.

“First of all, then, I urge that entreaties and prayers, petitions and thanksgivings, be made on behalf of all men, 2 for kings and all who are in authority, so that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity” (1 Tim. 2:1-2).

We are to pray for so many encouraging reasons: God hears (Ps. 65:2), God answers and works through prayer (1 Sam. 1:10-11, John 15:7), we are commanded to (1 Tim. 2:1-2), it shows that we are depending on our sovereign God (Luke 11:8), and it is an act of worship whereby God brings glory to himself (Rev. 8:3). If we find ourselves in the rut of angst at times, let us pray. We are to pray and pray and pray, and not lose heart (Luke 11:5-8, 18:1-8; Thess. 5:17).

10. Heaven will be great

Jesus often mentioned that we are to live for our permanent, future, unseen, and eternal home with him and all the redeemed (Matt. 16:24-27). While being present and prayerful, this world is passing, visible, dying, and temporal (1 John 2:17).

In heaven, there will be no voter fraud. They’ll be no voting, for that matter. Why should there be? The forever King will be the single most loving, wise, righteous, just, and perfect Individual in the universe, the blessed Lord Jesus Christ (Isa. 9:6-7, John 1:17, Phil. 2:8-11).

“And the Lord will be king over all the earth; in that day the Lord will be the only one, and His name the only one” (Zech. 14:9).

Of course, more could be said here. As God’s people, we are abundantly furnished with what we need to face these rocky times in a manner pleasing to him. Whatever happens, may the Lord’s church abound in faithfulness and fruitfulness.

[endlesstalesofwonder]

The Place of Wonder

As the man restocked the shelves, he found himself thinking about the ridiculousness of opening the shop in the first place. It had been left to rot and be broken into by the local homeless people, abandoned by the stores flanking either side as they had taken all the room they had wanted and left the remaining space of a decent walk-in closet. The man, no doubt, had made it work.

With a little magic, of course. (It was bigger on the inside. Sue him.)

It was something of an inside joke-slash-trap. Very little costumers ever realized the shift in dimensional spacing. It was the Others — the Supes, as his best friend had called them once, before becoming one of them — that noticed and called the man out. It made for an easier business transaction. The man would hold nothing back in making the customer whatever they wanted; A potion for remedying hair loss; An ale for faking the stomach flu — it was very popular in the fall season, especially during finals week; Blessed silver chains that helped resist the call of the moon; Chicken bones laced with monkshood to help urges of hunger.

Wednesdays were the most active. It was something in the water or in the air that made the people flock to the business.

Or the fact that he knew a leprechaun that owed him a favor and a focusing charm stuck to the back of his calendar.

The week before the full moon was also the busiest. Wolves ranked as his best customers — including what he deemed as the “cousins”: coyotes, foxes, and hellhounds. Plus the occasional jaguar. Following were the Fae (faeries), incubi, then vampires.

The man made sure to set all of his clocks — an entire wall’s worth of space, each one designated to a certain species and location — to remind him of the coming time of the month.

Which was today.

The clocks began to go off. A chill ran down his spine as a soft bell was swallowed by the sound of different screeching alarms and whistles. The jars went flying. The man went falling. Everything went to shit in a manner of seconds.

But the man didn’t hit the floor. No jars were shattered. The clocks were still ringing.

The man looked up to find another, his stubbled jaw square and dark eyebrow quirked into an odd judgmental curl. The jars were frozen around them, some of their contents also frozen, spilling from their containers. It only took one too many falls to cast a protection against accidents just like this. Especially if they happen more than three times a day.

“Welcome to The Place. Can I help you?”

Square-Jaw dropped him.

He’d never say that he swore in front of a customer. (But he did.)

The other man’s face was still screwed up as though he was carrying a lemon in his mouth and trying to conceal it. His eyes flicked from him to the wall.

Oh. The screaming. The man stood, albeit was a challenge without help, then slammed his fist into the wall. Like a ripple effect, each clock silenced and left the men in complete silence.

“Can I help you,” he repeated with a little more smile and I’m-sorry-you-had-to-see-that-Let’s-forget-it-ever-happened.

Square-Jaw crossed his arms, rose the eyebrow even higher suggesting, I’m-not-forgetting-that-awfully-embarassing-fall-and-damsel-catch-so-long-as-I-have-power-over-you.

Damn, he thought. He busied himself with grabbing the jars left in the air and returning them to their rightful place on their respective shelves. The one clock, with a cartoon cat stretched so its tail became the pendulum, gave him an apologetic smile and shrug.

Thanks. For nothing.

“I need a pair of manacles that could be worn out in public, but still have the restraint and control of a normal set.”

Wolf. The witch turned around, slowly descending from his height on the ladder. The man certainly didn’t look like a new-turn. The wolf under his skin felt old, trained, protective. Born. Alpha.

He hadn’t had an Alpha in the store in a while. He was out of practice in the traditions of deals and trades. To hell with them.

“Male or female?” How was it even possible to hike an eyebrow up higher than it already was condescending him. The witch crossed his arms. “I need to know for the shape of the binding. Bangles look better on women. Cuff bracelets are rather neutral, but I can wrap them in leather strips to personalize them for the wearer.”

Ha. Wearer. Were-r. He thought he was funny.

“Stick with the neutral. I don’t need any backlash for getting the wrong thing for the wrong person.”

The witch shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

He walked to the main counter in the back of the shop, the wolf close at his heels but not too close. Caging a magician in his own workplace was asking for a curse or misplaced misfortune spell.

The man plucked out a pen from his pocket — he’d enchanted the damn things after losing and buying too many replacements — and his schedule planner appeared, open in front of him. “I can definitely have the pair done before the full moon, possibly in two days — three if you want leather.”

“Why?”

“I buy and prep the material myself. Removing the scents from the leather is best to help with claiming certain objects as theirs, especially within larger packs.”

“No.”

He stopped writing, drawing out an exasperated sigh of What-do-you-mean-no-Do-you-want-the-damn-things-or-not.

“I can bring you the leather. You won’t have to worry about the scenting, except for your own.”

“I have—” special gloves for these kinds of things, I’m not an amateur, he wanted to say. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And I’ll need four pairs.”

Sweet Gods, the witch thought. “You’ll be pushing more towards the moon.”

“That won’t be an issue.”

The witch tapped his pen against the table. Click-ClickClick-Click-Click-ClickClickClick — The wolf caught the pen and his hand. The heat from his grip, and overall excessive body temperature, made him want to push his own fire into the touch. His magic, however, wanted to do nothing. Content.

He gulped. “I’ll need a name. For the order. And a number.” For the order.

“Hale. Derek Hale.,” he barked out, followed by a series of numbers that were atrociously arranged but easy to remember. Forever.

“I’ll call when the order is—” The front door rang. The wolf was gone. “—Ready. Way to go, Stiles.”

*

It took two days to shape the iron into the cuffs and another two to bless them. Stiles sat on his ass and watered the plants in the front window, which started whistling at passing people to get them to come in or at least give them attention, waiting for ‘Hale’ to show up with the leather for his own order. He should have denied the request, but who was he to deny the opportunity to spend less money?

He waited the full work day, inching closer to flipping the sign and getting the hell out of there, when the door chimed. A beautiful woman, almost equally beautiful as Square-Jaw-Hale, stood there with a cardboard Vans box. Everything about her screamed wolf, from her glinting smile to the wicked gleam in her eye. Her wolf did nothing to conceal itself. It pranced around wanting to be noticed, even flashing its eyes at the witch.

“Can I help you?”

She scanned him, all too obviously and stalling in all the wrong-right-places. Particularly, his face. His eyes. “These are for you.”

Stiles took the box from her, expecting a bomb or at the very least an enchanted can-of-worms trick. Instead, there were worn strips of leather in various sizes and lengths. The collective energy of the pieces made him think of a large home, adored, an even larger family, connected. Hale did well.

“Thanks.”

“I should be thanking you…” She leaned forward, squinting at the small badge on his shirt. “Stiles.”

Stiles quirked his eyebrow. Hale was getting to him and he’d only been there for a few minutes.

“Laura,” the woman offered in return, along with a hand. “Hale.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” The wolf did feel familiar, similar in some ways and different in others. She was an Alpha as well, but looser yet firm. There was a hidden strength to her that she wanted to keep that way. “Tell him thanks. Again.”

The woman turned on her heel, giving a half-assed salute on her way out.

Even the plants turned to watch her as she left. The Valley Lilies looked as confused as Stiles did. He flipped the sign on the door to Closed and buried himself in the back room to finish the damn order for the damn Derek Hale.

*

The clocks on the wall liked to taunt him. Some of them liked to rearrange their numbers and make Stiles freak out over missing his lunch break or not closing on time. Others tried bending their numbers to spell out certain messages that customers should not be able to read in public establishments. There was a collectible clock that his grandfather had given to him as a kid with a pair of parrots in the center sitting on a branch. They softly sang every hour and half-hour. They screeched when Stiles needed to clean their glass so they could see the customers better. He was cleaning said glass when they started to sing — nay, scream for their lives — sending Stiles, once again, to the mercy of the floor — And into the hands of another man.

Stiles looked up — “We have to stop meeting like this.”

The man dropped him. Again. This time, there was a little push just to make it hurt more. Not that he’d ever win that argument with the wolf.

Stiles got himself to his elbows, already winded. “I told you to come by tomorrow.”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

The clock chimed overhead: cuckoo, cuckoo. “Liar.” He didn’t need the clock to know that.

Derek stared at the wall as though they had personally offended him. Which, they had. Very personally. He crossed his arms over his chest — How many times can a man do that before popping or ripping something?

He cleared his throat. “Just give me the damn bracelets.”

Stiles jumped to his feet in one swoop. “Why, Derek, we haven’t discussed the matter of payment.”

“Money isn’t an issue.”

“Establishments like this,” he gestured to the room for dramatic effect, but the wolf simply growled, “don’t normally take money.”

“So, what do you want? Blood? My first born?”

“Geez, what kind of witches do you deal with?” The young witch huffed, leading the man to the back counter once again. He reached beneath the tabletop and retrieved the same Vans box that had been delivered to him, opening and showcasing the items like prized jewels.

Derek nodded. “Then what do you want?”

It seemed like anything was on the table with the man, short of murder and dressing up in the cotton-tail-bunny costume from A Christmas Story. “Well, I’ll give you a choice. You can either pay me in 10 happy memories—” The man took a sharp inhale. “—Or you can go on a date with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“A date.” Stiles didn’t want to be the one to assume, but the man must have had one or at the very least heard of the word before. “Two people. Possibly a movie and some snacks, or if dinner if more your style, we could share a plate of spaghetti—”

“Does it have to be 10?”

“Hey.” Stiles frowned. “Is a date so bad?”

Finally, his eyebrows lowered in a not-quite-menacing-but-I’m-trying-to-prove-a-point glare. “I’m not good with… people.”

“I’m a hot mess on two left feet.” Stiles pointed to the damn shelving unit that was the cause of the whole ordeal. “People aren’t my strong suit either. I do make a mean steak.”

Derek did this thing with his mouth, curling and pouting in this contemplative should-I-even-consider-doing-this shape, then picked up the box of cuffs. “So long as it’s not spaghetti.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.” His eyes scanned over his face, stopping at his cheeks, nose, then lips. “Tomorrow. Seven.”

Like an ass in a romance film, he turned on his heel and made for the door. Stiles squawked, climbing over the counter instead of simply walking around it. He wasn’t one for clear thinking. Clearly.

“Tomorrow’s the full moon.” Don’t you need to be with your pack came out as, “Will you need those cuffs?”

The wolf stopped short of the door, hand posed on the glass. “Don’t worry.” The man turned over his shoulder, eyes burning red and grinning feral but very, very much in control. Stiles lost his breath. “I’ve got plenty of control.”

The clocks stopped ticking. The plants stood at tip-top shape. One of the jaws of the channeling dolls dropped wide open.

The wolf smirked. “See you tomorrow, Stiles.”

The store was still when the man left, the door shuddering in his wake. Nothing wanted to move first before Stiles could put himself back together in a decently functioning being. He pounded his fist in the center of his chest, muttered a prayer, and made sure to touch and brush past every talisman of good luck on his way to the back room. He’d need it.

[leisurelypanda]

December 21st came before they knew it. School had let out a few days ago and Steve had been relaxing with Thor, enjoying the break together while they could. The mood was marred by the sadness that he felt at Thor going away but he tried to put on a brave face and enjoy the time he had with Thor before he had to leave. Logically, he knew that Thor wasn’t leaving for long, but he couldn’t help the disappointment that refused to abate.

Steve did not take his anxiety medicine that morning, but he did take his meds with him in case he needed them. He was genuinely curious about the drinking aspect of the holiday, even if he only planned on having one or two drinks. Nothing major. Steve definitely didn’t plan on ever becoming drunk.

When he arrived at Thor’s house early that afternoon he was surprised at how… festive it looked. There was a large, ornate wreath on the door decorated with holly, pine cones, and red ribbons that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. It was beautiful and, shockingly, real. He could smell the evergreen and the pine from it. It was somewhat strange, honestly. People had wreaths and Christmas trees but in his experience they were always plastic. No one really had the money to buy an authentic tree or wreath every year. Except Thor, apparently.

Once he was inside he was hit with the sense of déjà vu. It was so different. Like during Samhain, the entryway was decorated completely differently from the usual. There was holly hanging from the chandelier and more wreaths decorated the walls. Holly hung from archways where connecting rooms and from the windows. Various kinds of branches, some normal bare and some with some kind of red berries adorned the walls as well. And in the center of the foyer, there was an alter like before, decorated with the various kind of plants in the home and a pair of small figurines, one of an elderly man and the other of a woman. It was beautiful.

“Steve,” Thor greeted him warmly. He leaned down to kiss him. Steve could taste… honey and some other kinds of warm spices on his lips. “Blessed Yule.”

“Blessed Yule, babe,” he mimicked. “You all really go all out for your holidays, don’t you?”

Thor smiled proudly. “Yes, but could the same not be said of most people when observing their religious holidays?”

“I don’t know. I’m not religious, but it’s beautiful,” he said. Thor smiled.

“Come, we were just about to start decorating the tree,” he said, taking his hand and dragging him through to the living room. Steve gaped at the sight. An enormous tree stood proudly in the room reaching up to the high ceiling. There was even a ladder so that decorations could be placed on the upper branches that couldn’t be reached. And it was gorgeous. Odin was at the top of the ladder stringing lights around the tree while Mr. Baker held the ladder steady. Frigga turned as they entered the room and smiled.

“Welcome Steve,” she said, hugging him warmly. “Blessed Yule.”

Steve repeated the greeting dutifully.

“You’re just in time to help us celebrate,” she said, leading him to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? We have some eggnog, the nonalcoholic and the alcoholic kind, some mead, beer, glogg--”

“Grog?” he asked.

“No, glogg,” she corrected. “It’s a red wine mulled with spices like cinnamon, clove, orange, cardamom, ginger. It’s a Swedish specialty. It’s delicious.”

She poured a bit in a mug and offered it to him. It was a good thing that his medication was a mild tranquilizer rather than a full blown antianxiety medication like he had when he first started out. He could certainly smell the spices she mentioned, though he wasn’t familiar with most of their flavors. He took a cautious sip. It was sweeter than he expected. The spices didn’t overwhelm the drink and he found that he liked it quite a bit.

“That’s good,” he said. “That’s very good.”

“Do you want some more?” she asked. He nodded. She took his mug and added a mixture of raisins and almonds before she poured the drink into the mug and topped it with cranberries. Steve took a sip. It was sweeter than before and the flavors of the fruits and almonds added to the appeal.

“Do take it easy, though,” she warned. “It’s stronger than it seems. We don’t want you drinking more than you are ready for.”

He sipped it more carefully and returned to the living room. The lights were almost finished being wrapped around the tree.

“So what’s the story behind Yule, anyway?” Steve asked. “Is it similar to Christmas at all?”

“In some ways,” Thor said. “Most religions have some kind of celebration around the winter solstice to celebrate the end of the darkest night and return of the light.”

“Is that why there’s so many lights for Christmas?” Steve asked.

“Well most Christmas traditions come from Yule in some way,” he replied. “Like the tree, the wreaths, hanging up lights, and the mistletoe, of course.”

“Mistletoe is from Yule?” Steve asked with a smile. “I don’t remember that from elementary school.”

“I will be happy to… fill the gaps in your education,” Thor murmured as he pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips. Maybe it was the wine, but Steve’s smile grew.

“I look forward to it,” he whispered.

“Will you two stop snogging for a second and plug in the lights?” Odin shouted from the top of the tree. Thor chuckled lowly before he left to do as requested. The tree lit up in a brilliant display of golden lights and the Odinson household cheered. Odin ambled down the ladder and the family gathered around to start decorating. Frigga handed Steve some ribbons to tie around the branches.

The whole process took about an hour and a half between the drinking, the singing, and the actual decorating. Steve was surprised to learn that Thor was the only one in the family who couldn’t sing. He was also the one who sang the loudest, drowning out everyone else. Steve found himself laughing with his hands covering his ears at the display. Thor made a show at pouting and sang even louder.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Please have mercy! My ears!”

“You cannot silence my golden pipes!” Thor protested. He continued singing the little holiday diddy at the top of his lungs. Steve was saved by the grace of Frigga, who told him to be quiet and make himself useful by putting some more decorations on the tree. She also handed him a couple more ornaments.

“Enjoying yourself, dear?” she asked.

“As long as Thor isn’t singing,” he laughed. She laughed with him.

“I’m sure I don’t know where he gets it,” she said. “No one else in the family is so atrocious at singing, yet he is the one who enjoys it the most.”

“I would have thought that he would have a good baritone voice or something,” Steve said.

“Well, he has a bad baritone,” she said with a smile.

“I can hear you, you know,” Thor shouted from the other side from the tree.

“You know it’s rude to eavesdrop, babe,” Steve replied.

“So is gossip,” he said, coming around the tree. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “So where does that leave us?”

Steve giggled. He was on his second mug of the glogg. Thor became suddenly serious and took the mug from his hand and set it aside.

“My love, I think you have had enough of that for now,” he said. Mr. Baker appeared with a tall glass of water. “Please, drink all of this.”

“Why?” he said as he took the glass.

“It will help keep you hydrated,” he answered. Steve took a gulp of the water.

“So what do you do on Yule?” he asked. “Why’s it important?”

“Well in Norse tradition, it’s a time of honoring Baldr,” Thor explained.

“Who is Baldr?”

“He was the god of light and the sun,” Thor said. “He was also the most beautiful and beloved of the gods. His mother Frigga, who was skilled in divining the fates of all things and in changing them, saw that he would be killed. To prevent this from happening, she sought out every living thing and made them swear that they would not harm him.

“After this, the gods would entertain themselves by hurling objects at him and laughing when the fell harmlessly to the ground. They marveled at his invincibility. One god saw their folly: Loki. He went to Frigga and asked her if there was any being that she had neglected to ask for the oath in her quest. She confessed that she had neglected to ask one thing: mistletoe. She said that it was such a small, harmless plant that she did not think it would pose a threat.

“So Loki took some mistletoe and fashioned a spear from it. He gave it to the blind god of darkness, Baldr’s brother, Hodr, and convinced him to throw it at Baldr while the gods were celebrating. The spear pierced him and he fell down dead. All the gods mourned him so much that they decided that one of them should go down to Helheim, the land of the dead, to beg its queen, Hel, to restore the dead god to life.

“She agreed, on the condition that every living thing that loved him, mourned for him. So the gods went out to get everyone to mourn for him. But one being did not, a giantess who lived in a cave. She refused, saying that Hel should be allowed to keep what was hers. And so Baldr remained in Helheim. Legend says that when Ragnarok, the last battle, is complete, Baldr will return to lead the world back to the light.”

Steve whistled then he looked at Loki. “Why’d you kill him, man?”

“I didn’t kill him,” Loki replied with a sly grin. “My god killed him. That I share his name is coincidental.”

“Your god?”

“We all honor the gods,” Frigga explained. “But each of us has one or two that we pay special attention. Loki honors his namesake.”

“You named your son after the trickster god?” Steve asked, bemused.

“There’s an important lesson in the story,” she said. “Frigga went through all that trouble to change fate, and then the gods decided to test it. Don’t flirt with death and act surprised if she returns her affections.”

“So what does this have to do with Yule?” Steve asked.

“We remember, mourn, and honor Baldr on the longest night of the year,” Frigga said. “Then we celebrate and await his return at the beginning of the new cycle when Ragnarok is over.”

“It usually involves drinking, feasting, and staying up until sunrise,” Thor said cheerfully. “Oaths are taken very seriously at Yule, too.”

“That’s the best part,” Loki said. “Seeing what promises you can get out of people.”

“We’re staying up all night?” Steve asked. He looked down at his glass. He seemed to have drank it all during Thor’s story.

“If you’re up for it,” Odin said, glowering at him from the tree. That sounded like a challenge if Steve had ever heard one. And Steve was not about to let Thor’s grumpy father get the last laugh. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he seemed braver for some reason.

“The question is,” Steve said. “Are you up for it, old man?”

Whistles and cheers sounded from the others as Steve and Odin stared each other down, not unlike the last time it happened. Then, to his surprise, Odin smiled. Not out of approval, but as an acceptance of the challenge. Steve had a feeling that this would be an interesting night. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some hours later, after dinner had been consumed, The family went off in different directions to see to their own festivities. Odin and Frigga went around the house burning something Thor called smudge sticks that filled the house with scents like rosemary, pine, and cedar. It might not be Christmas, but it certainly smelled like it. Loki was sewing something called poppets to look like gingerbread people, which Thor said were meant to attract something during the new year, like love, prosperity, or protection.

“So what do you do?” Steve asked Thor. they were sitting on the couch admiring the tree. Thor was on his 5th drink, whereas Steve had decided he was done for the night at his third. HI shead was clearing up and he decided that while the buzz was interesting, he had no real interest in experiencing drunkenness. He was afraid of what could happen. But he trust Thor enough that he was mostly relaxed around him while he was drinking.

“Well, I do have a personal favorite,” he said. He set his drink down on the coffee table and held up some kind of weed. He wiggled his eyebrows.

“What is that?” Steve said. “And why do you seem excited about it?”

“Mistletoe,” Thor said. Steve immediately blushed. “You know the tradition, yes?”

Steve pressed a light, teasing kiss to Thor’s lips.

“Happy?” he asked, his voice lower and huskier than he meant it. Thor pouted.

“You tease,” he whined. Steve grinned and pressed another longer kiss to his lips. Thor returned it gently, opening his mouth to grant Steve access. Steve straddled his lover’s hips to get better leverage. His lover’s hands immediately went to his back and wandered down until one found its perch on the curve of his ass and the other groped his thigh. He could taste the honey and cinnamon on his tongue from the mead he’d been drinking. It was… intoxicating.

Thor bucked his hips and Steve gasped as he felt Thor’s arousal against his own. His jeans were suddenly very uncomfortable. He tugged at Thor’s hair, urging him on--

Someone cleared their throat. Steve practically jumped off Thor. His blush grew even more when he realized who caught them. Odin. Frigga was covering her mouth with a hand, but there was amusement in her eyes as she regarded them. Odin looked annoyed more than anything.

“The next time the… mood strikes you,” he ground out. “Please find some place more private. There are other people in the house, you know.”

Steve looked down at the floor as he nodded. He could not meet Odin’s eye.

“Sorry father,” Thor said.

Steve considered letting the couch swallowing him when Odin huffed and walked out. He looked up in time to see Frigga give them a conspiratorial wink before she followed. As soon as they were gone, Thor reached over for him to take his hand. Steve avoided his touch.

“I need some air,” he said as he got up. “I’ll be back soon.”

He reached the porch and exhaled, watching his cloud of breath appear, then vanish before his eyes. He didn’t particularly like the cold or the winter. It was hard to appreciate the cold when there were months when his mom wasn’t sure if she would have the money to pay the heating bill. That concern had vanished when Joe died. Not having someone drain the finances buying drinks did marvels for the budget, it seemed.

Still, there were times when he relished the cold. Like now, when he needed to clear his head. He looked up at the lights from the city. They reminded him of the lights on the tree inside. They were beautiful. And tonight he could see a crescent moon shining above them. It wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the yard, but it was still lovely.

“Come to clear your head, boy?” asked a voice. Steve jumped and turned to find Odin leaning on the doorframe behind him. His face was stern, almost like how he imagined Santa with a bowel movement. “You act as though I am about to beat you, you know. You needn’t worry. You might be an ungrateful upstart, but I won’t do you harm.”

“Thanks,” he drawled. “It helps to clear my head. The cold, I mean.”

“Heh. You would like Sweden, then,” he said walking closer. “Don’t cower, boy, I am not here to pummel you. Stand up straight like a man.”

Steve found himself obeying without question. Odin had a commanding presence about him, almost like he had spent time in the military. He brooked no nonsense and suffered no fools. It made people listen. His gaze was cold and assessing. Steve could see the shrewd intellect that had secured him the position of ambassador to the United States. Politicians didn’t get anywhere by being trusting. He braced his hands on the railing in front of and turned that calculating gaze on Steve.

“How much has Thor told you about Yule?” he asked.

“Well, he told me about Baldr’s death,” he admitted.

“Good,” Odin said. “He honors Baldr, it is only natural that he should tell you about his god’s demise.”

“It was interesting,” he said lamely. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “He also said to be careful of oaths.”

“Well, at least he’s ensured you will not do something stupid,” Odin said. Then he regarded him with a scowl. “One of the other purposes of Yule is to air grievances.”

There it is, Steve thought. He braced himself.

“I do not like you,” Odin said.

“The feeling is mutual,” Steve asked, trying to sound casual.

“I think that you are weak,” Odin said. “My wife and son tell me that you suffer from panic attacks, but that just means that you are ruled by fear. There is no way you could be worthy of my son.”

The words came like a punch in the gut. It took the wind out of him. He could do nothing but gaze up at the old man, his jaw hanging open uselessly.

“Were you simply unsure of yourself, that would be one thing,” he continued. “You are a boy. It is only natural. But you are simply a coward who lacks the nerve to admit or the balls to be a man.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. His heart was racing, but he would be damned before he let Thor’s father bully him into submission. “I have Panic Disorder. I live in constant fear of when my next panic attack will strike. I struggle with anxiety on a daily basis and it’s taken me nearly a year and a half of therapy to learn how to live with it. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that you understand what my life has been like. Why should that make me unworthy?”

“You are ashamed of yourself,” Odin said, eying him. “For all your bravado, you see yourself as weak. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t think you are worthy either.”

Again, it hit him like a punch in the gut. Odin certainly knew how to get to people. He wasn’t wrong. He constantly wondered if this was a dream, if he would wake up and cold reality would set in because the only way any of this could be true was if it was a dream.

“How can I think that you are worthy if you cannot think it yourself?” Odin demanded. “I’ve seen your like before. Thor has always attracted men like you to him. He’s too softhearted. He got himself hurt because they both took advantage of his kindness in one way or another.”

Steve was silent at that. He had never really asked in detail about Thor’s exes. He only knew that he had some because he had mentioned them in passing. He could not deny that even though Thor lavished him with affection and assured him that he was more than enough, he often wondered if he actually deserved this.

“So here is my grievance,” Odin said. “I think you will break my son’s heart. You will hurt him and I would have sought to prevent his being hurt again, but it seems that he has already fallen for you. I can only hope that he will decide at some point to end it himself first.”

“You think you know what is best,” Steve found himself saying. “But you’re the one letting fear rule you. Fear that you can’t protect him. You barely know me. You’ve judged me based on a panic attack and on Thor’s past relationships, people I’ve never even met. How can you say that you know what I will do when all you really know about me is that I have chronic anxiety?”

Odin was silent, aside from a scoff.

“I promise that everything that I want from Thor comes from good intentions,” he said. “I will not toss aside the kindness Thor has shown me just because you think we’re a bad match.”

“An oath on Yule. Even after Thor’s warning,” Odin drawled. “How poetic.”

He drew himself up to his full height and glowered down at Steve, contempt smoldering in his eye. He suddenly seemed like a giant to Steve, ready to crush him if he didn’t say the right thing.

“If you break your oath,” he growled. “I will see that you suffer.”

“You would hardly be the first,” Steve said. The lump in his throat made it sound more breathy and meek than he would have preferred.

“But,” Odin said. “If you are telling the truth, if your relationship with my son lasts until the day after your year anniversary, I will give your relationship my blessing.”

“Deal,” Steve said. He held out his hand. Odin took it in a strong, firm grip. Whether it was magic, whether there were gods or spirits or angels bearing witness to their bargain, whether it was something inherently about the season, it felt very solemn. Like this truly wasn’t something that could be broken without consequences. As Steve watched Odin go back into the house, he had to wonder if he had just done something rash.

Either way, he had no intention of letting Odin win. He had been with Thor for three months now. It seemed like such a short amount of time, and at the same time, it felt like it had been forever. And even though he struggled daily with feeling inadequate, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

His reverie was interrupted by a crash and shouting. Steve hurried inside to find Thor and Loki grappling on the floor.

“Shouldn’t we do something?” Steve asked. Frigga chuckled.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “They do this every year, since Thor honors Baldr and Loki, well, take a guess.”

“You killed my god!” Thor roared. He had his brother in a headlock. Loki laughed and jabbed Thor in the stomach with an elbow.

“Your god was an idiot,” Loki replied with a sardonic grin. He ran outside and into the yard and Thor gave chase, hollering all the way.

Steve watched in amazement as they wrestled and fought on the lawn. Their styles were completely different. Thor was more strength oriented and tried to overpower Loki. His brother, on the other hand was slippery and dextrous. It was fascinating to watch, but Thor eventually managed to pin his brother to the ground, which was no less impressive for the fact that he was drunk.

“Yield,” he growled. Loki struggled, but Thor had managed to keep him pinned to the cold earth.

“Fine, I yield,” Loki groaned. Thor jumped up and cheered and ran up the steps to capture Steve in a fierce, victorious embrace and kissed him. Steve laughed into his lover’s mouth.

Yeah, he thought. There’s no way I’m letting that old Grinch win. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometime around midnight, the Odinson family gathered around their tree and began their gift exchange. It was an interesting sight, as Steve had never before seen gifts being exchanged between a family when half of them were half drunk. He was also shocked to discover that he was being included in the exchange. He was suddenly glad he had brought gifts, though it was nothing special. Odin didn’t give him anything and he was glad for it because he didn’t have anything for him, to be honest.

Frigga gave him more art supplies, which was good because he was starting to run low and this would surely last him a while. Loki gave him a pair of little puppets (he called them, “poppets,” though) that looked like gingerbread people.

“This one’s meant to attract love,” he said, pointing to one that had more pink decorations, like hearts and flowers. The other had a bit of mistletoe pinned to it and a shield. “And that one is for protection.”

“Do I keep it with me or…?” Steve asked.

“You can,” Loki said. “Or you can keep it in your room to ward off negative energies.”

“Cool,” Steve said. He meant it. He had no idea Loki was so skilled. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki actually seemed bashful at the praise. “It’s nothing,” he said.

Steve got up and hugged him. Loki made a groan of disgust in protest.

“Thor, your boyfriend is hugging me,” he whined.

“Yeah he is,” Thor said, raising his bottle of mead. He had taken a break for a few hours but resumed drinking for the gift exchange. Steve himself had another mug of glogg sitting on the coffee table. But just the one. He had already drank more tonight than he ever planned on drinking in general. He’d probably go a few months without.

“Tell him to stop,” Loki said.

“Come on, brother, it’s Yule!” Thor said cheerfully. “Live a little.”

Loki grumbled and returned the hug.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered. Steve finally let him go.

Thor actually had to leave the room to get his present to Steve. He returned with a large canvas that Steve recognized as one of Frigga’s painting canvases. He gasped as he turned it around and revealed a painting of the two of them dancing under the moonlight. It was similar to their Homecoming date. There were some artistic liberties taken, such as the fact that instead of anywhere in New York, they were dancing under a grove of pine trees covered in snow lit in the holiday style with a full moon shining down on them. It was beautiful and he actually teared up at the sight.

“I commissioned this a few weeks ago,” he said. “I could not think of anything else that you would want, so--”

Steve tackled him with a hug before he could finish.

“I love it,” he said. He looked at Frigga. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” she said.

Steve got out his sketchbook and carefully removed one of the pictures. It was a new one that he had finished recently, of Thor and Loki grappling and smiling like the rambunctious brothers they were. He handed it to Frigga who looked at it and smiled as her fingers traced the lines of their faces.

“Thank you, Steve,” she said. “It’s beautiful. A mother can never have too many pictures of her children.”

To Loki, he handed a picture of him as a mad scientist. Loki laughed when he saw himself holding a vial of some kind of mixture grinning like a madman under a transformer shooting electricity. Thor rolled his eyes.

Finally, to Thor, he gave him the completed version of a picture he had been working on recently. Thor was sitting on a white horse, his armor gleaming in the light of the sun shining down overhead, his red cape draped behind him. His family was behind him, smiling faces throwing flowers on the ground beneath the horse. Thor was looking directly at the viewer with a smile on his face as he held out his hand.

“I recognize this,” Thor said. “This is the one you started a month ago at the beginning of the Thanksgiving break.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a blush. “It’s not much, but--”

Thor silenced him with a kiss. Steve sighed in spite of himself.

“I love it, älskling,” he said. “It is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“But where are you?” he asked.

“Umm… well, this is from a dream I had, so…” he said.

“So I am looking at you in this picture?” Thor asked with a sloppy grin.

“Yes?” Steve replied. Thor smiled again and kissed him. It was a bit clumsy, since he was drunk, but Steve was becoming more comfortable around it. As long as Thor was there, anyway.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Happy Yule.”

“Happy Yule, Thor,” he replied. “I love you, too.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thor didn't make it until sunrise, but he did manage to make it to the porch with Steve about an hour before dawn. Where he promptly fell asleep with his head resting in Steve's lap. Steve smiled at the sight and tangled his fingers in his golden locks as he waited in silence for the sunrise.

The rest of the family was quiet too, as if the night of celebration was replaced with a heavy solemnity. Mr. Baker, Mrs. Bianchi, and the rest of the household staff had turned in hours ago. They weren't pagan, so they weren't required to observe their employers’ religious holidays. All of them had at one point in time, but not this year.

Steve had never actually seen the sun rise over New York City. His apartment buildings generally didn't let residents on the roof. Also, as a 19 year old, any time before the sun before had been in the sky for a few hours was too early to be out of bed. He was fighting the urge to close his eyes and curl himself around Thor's sleeping form.

The sky overhead began to lighten gradually. Black started to soften to pale orange and yellow. All of them were silent, apart from Thor's soft snoring, as the dawn after the longest night arrived. Steve captured the image in his mind. Somewhere in the back of his artist mind he wondered what it would be like to watch the sunrise from the top of the Empire State Building. But the part of him that was terrified of heights dismissed that almost immediately.

The sun began to peak over the horizon, a fragile orange sliver of light breaking through the night. Soon the night gave way to the pale light of the morning and the sky turned from black to shades of blue and yellow. And maybe there was actually some magic there or perhaps the sunlight triggered some part of his brain, but Steve felt his spirit lift. Like something new had begun.

When the sun had fully risen, the Odinsons began to taper off to bed. Odin paused long enough to nod at Steve in acknowledgment of his small victory. Steve would have felt smug but an enormous yawn reminded him that he was dog tired. He shook his boyfriend gently until he started awake.

“The sun's up,” he said.

“Huzzah,” Thor murmured. “Blessed Yule.”

“Blessed Yule,” he parroted. “Now do you think we can start the year off right and go to bed?”

“Sleep first, älskling,” he murmured, nuzzling his face in his lap. “Sex later.”

Steve was too tired to chastise him. Instead he just yawned and waited for Thor to get up. His legs were starting to fall asleep. They staggered to the bedroom, Thor stopping to drink some water. As they climbed into bed to sleep the day away, Steve tried to think about anything but the fact that he was leaving.

[surveys4ever]

26.

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celsius)? ...yes. Literally every year. There’s usually a week or two in January when it gets down to -50 to -75 F. 

Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? Maybe when I was a teenager? I’ve definitely been caught in the rain, not sure about a thunderstorm tho.

What’s your favorite macaron flavor? I’ve actually never had a macaron! But I don’t like meringue so I don’t think I’d enjoy them.

How often do you have friends over to your house? Literally never.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? YES. The assistant manager at the last job I had was insane. She tried to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to leave town on the weekends in case they needed me. LOL girl bye.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? 0, covid.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Noooo.

What about a flip off of a diving board? I’ve never even been on a diving board.

Are you embarrassed by your school yearbook photos?  I believe in the 10th or 11th grade I hated them but I was on the yearbook committee so I finessed some new ones to put in hehehe.

Who taught you to tie your shoelaces? I believe I learned at school.

Currently how many pictures are on your cellphone? 9,008.

Do you think dimples are cute? Oh hell yeah.

Would you rather chew fruity or minty gum? Minty.

The last time you went to the mall, who did you go with? Beebs!

What’s something you used to collect when you were younger? Rocks and lip balm.

Have you watched a movie today? Yes! We went to see Dracula.

Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? We went to an indoor garage sale a couple weeks ago.

Do you love soft pretzels? They’re alright. They smell better than they taste in my opinion.

Who was the last person who cried around you? Why did they start crying? Was it unexpected? Does my dog count? Bc she’s just a drama queen and I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

Are you more likely to like someone before you really know them, or do you feel you like them more after you know a lot about them? True love is when you like them a ton before you actually really know them and then like them even more after.

Do you buy people cards on special occasions, or do you prefer to make your own? I honestly think cards are a huge waste of money so if I do give one, I made it. But I have a Circuit and I’m pretty creatively inclined so it’s pretty easy.

When was the last time you were being hypocritical? It sounds pompous but I honestly think I'm too self aware to by hypocritical.

Where on your body was the last cramp you had? Why did you have this cramp? My hip, because I was sitting weird.

What is the weirdest name you’ve ever heard? Someone I know named their kid Emanda. Unsure if its pronounced ee-manda or just regular Amanda. Haven’t wanted to ask. Another named their kid Albrea. I just call her Algebra. And another named their kid Annekke, pronounced Anika. She will forever be a-neek-ee to me.

Do you get embarrassed when people hear you sing/compliment you on your singing ability? Bold of you to assume I ever let anybody sing.

Are you good at comforting people when they’re upset? I’m the big sister to like a bajillion children. Yes I’m good at it.

Do you have any exercises you do everyday? Newp.

Do you own one of those singing fish? Do you think they are silly or funny? Hahaha I don’t but I literally just saw a Billy Bass at a thrift store yesterday. They were funny then and they’re funny nostalgic now.

Has anyone ever accused you of being bipolar or any other mental disorder? Do you really have any mental disorders? I have a pretty severe anxiety disorder but no one’s accused me of having it because like...it’s pretty obvious? 

Did you buy the last thing you bought with your own money? If not, whose money did you buy it with? Haha yes! We bought movie tickets, a drink, and peanut butter m&ms.

Do you like to put your feet up on the dashboards of cars? Do you parents yell at you if you do that in cars? Our car is too short for that but yeah, my parents always yelled at me for it when I was young.

Which Beatle is your favorite, or do you love them all equally? I wouldn’t say I loved any of them but John Lennon is absolute hot garbage.

Do you enjoy classic rock? If so, who are some of your favorite classic rock artists? Uh...not really?

Did you ever own a Tamagotchi? Yes! They were all the rage in the 6th grade.

Are you more of a dog or cat person?/ Dog, definitely.

Have you ever failed math? I very, VERY narrowly passed the last math course I needed to graduate and I did the math and because of the mark I got on my final, I should have failed by 3% but I got 1% over what I needed to pass. Pretty sure my math teacher just didn’t want to deal with me taking the course over so he passed me BUT my math could have been wrong, haha.

Skittles! What's your favorite color? Lordt. I haven’t purchased skittles in ages. I think I remember red being my favorite?

Have you ever had a dream of stabbing someone? Yeah, actually.

What would you want your last words to be if you could choose them? I would just want my husband to know how much I love him and that I’ll be waiting for him in whatever form of afterlife there is.

Can you sleep with the light on? If I'm dead tired.

What’s the most bizarre horror movie you’ve ever seen? I mean...Dracula is supposed to be a horror movie. The only thing horrific about it was the acting.

What band can’t you stand listening to? I honestly can’t think of one right now.

Would you ever take a lie detector test for your significant other? I mean, if I had to? But we trust each other 100% and I’m brutally honest about everything so he would never require that from me.

What is your favorite Mystery/Crime/FBI related show? Murder, Mystery, & Makeup Mondayssss! Sha na sha sha na sha sha na sha sha sha na shaaaaaaaa!

Would you ever have a bird as a pet? Absolutely not.

How's your relationship between you and your grandparents? I love my mom’s parents to bits. My grandma is one of my absolute favorite people in the world and my grandpa is very quiet but he has a lot of really sweet moments. My dad’s parents are awful fuckin people. My grandfather died like 5 years ago and I really had to try hard to feign sympathy about it to him. My grandmother is still kicking it but we haven’t spoken in over a decade for good reason. She also changed their joint Facebook account to just her Facebook account less than a week after he died loooool. She hated him as much as I did I think. And then my bio dad’s dad is dead but he was also a piece of shit but his mom is a sweetie. We facetime every so often and she holds the phone a grand total of 6 inches away from her face the entire time and tells me the same stories over and over. Bu

Ever had a forbidden love or lover? Newp.

Have you ever had to speak at a funeral? No, thank god.

Do you know someone who’s been cremated? My grandma’s dog.

What is your current problem? My eyes are blurry because I’m tired.

Do you like canopy beds? Tbh, canopy beds are the epitome of glamor in my eyes.

What is your favorite animated movie? Onward.

Would you rather live in a small town or a big city? I like medium cities. You won’t get mugged walking down the street, traffic doesn’t absolutely suck, and you can get clear across town in 15 minutes.

If you could summon any animal to come to your rescue, what animal would it be and why? Uh? Why am I in trouble? Why can’t I call a human? What’s happening here?

Have you ever watched The Golden Girls? I tried watching a couple episodes but it didn’t pique my interest.

Did you ever like the Ninja Turtles? Noooo. Beebs loves them though so he tries to make me love them and it’s just not happenin, buddy.

Last alcoholic drink you had? No idea tbh.

What are you known for? For being talented and having big hair.

Has anyone ever threatened you? Oh yeah. There was this one guy who was constantly sending me really graphic messages about how he wanted to put a gun to my head and kill me or he hoped I would get XYZ and die. I tried to block him but he would immediately make 3 more accounts to send me the same shit.

Have you ever gone frog hunting? Noooo.

Do you ever suffer from dry skin? Yessss. My body is the Sahara.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? No, I sleep with a husband.

What’s the weather like right this moment? It’s rainy!

Do you bite on straws, lollipop handles, or ice cream sticks? Nah.

In what type of area was your first sexual encounter? Beeb’s bedroom. His stepfather interrupted and made him come outside to talk to him for some reason and then very weirdly pointed out his half boner? V. uncomfortable all around.

Where is your mother’s side of the family descended from? Somewhere where white people come from idk.

What do you occupy your time with on flights? iPad games usually.

Do you dog-ear pages in books? No, I’m not a heathen.

What’s a made up word of yours? We call pickles ‘pickies’ and hamburgers ‘borgers’ or ‘borgs’ because we’re gross.

Do you use Q-Tips? In my ears? No. To clean out tight spaces of things I've thrifted? Yes.

Ever gone out with somebody you didn’t like? Noooo.

What hero or heroine do you most relate to in history, fiction, or song? ....No.

What makes you dizzy? Getting up too fast usually.

Are your parents liberal or conservative? Bleh, conservative. If you have liberal parents, consider yourself blessed.

Do you like your teeth? Did you have braces? I got away with having just an appliance/Invisaligns but I still don’t like my teeth. They’re perfectly straight and white enough but I have body dysmorphia and for some reason I think they’re atrocious and I hate them??? I can’t explain it.

Are you happy with your height? I’m 5′11 and I wish I was shorter sometimes. Hugging my husband would be easier.

[jngukie]

WIP Tag

i was tagged by @floofyeol! idk if this is a blessing or a curse let’s find out.

some of these fics have been in drafts for ages? so tbh i don’t even know if i will post them but hey we’ll see. (so assume for now that none of these will be posted—except when stated otherwise with an *)

the first couple will be ships. the later ones are reader-inserts. all are still protected by the Creative Commons license.

slide it up in here: chapter 10* pairing(s): jikook, namjin, yoonseok genre: humour, crack, drama, angst tags/warnings: texting, college au, slightly filthy, innuendoes, Awkward Jeon Jungkook™, slowburn, self-esteem issues, self-hatred, implied/referenced homophobia, everyone is a mess™

SUMMARY

gguki: [image attached] gguki: what should i do with it chimothy: um chimothy: dude idk if i’m entitled to give you suggestions but chimothy: i mean you could always just stick it in the ass???????

or jungkook accidentally sends a stranger a picture of his roommate’s brand new dildo

PREVIEW

the (9)7 wonders of the world

tol: ok here’s the plan dabs 24/7: yugyeom no offence but your plans kinda suck muscle pig: ^^ what bambam said muscle pig: i don’t trust you anymore tol: wow that hurt tol: but i promise you this one will be better dabs 24/7: don’t do it kook tol: it won’t backfire in any way

untilted vhope pairing(s): vhope, namjin genre: humour, fluff tags/warnings: college au, skype dates, profanity, neurobiology/pyschology major!namjoon, ra!jin, music major!yoongi (i think), some major!hoseok, and high schooler!tae, tbh idrk bc i haven’t finished writing it lmao

SUMMARY

When Jung Hoseok signed up for college, he didn’t think he’d end up on academic probation so soon. Hell, he’d never guess he’d have friends who would use him as a fucking lab rat for their atrocious experiments. He definitely did not expect to fall in love with his resident advisor’s little brother—and then proceed to sneak into said resident advisor’s room and hack his computer just to have one more Skype date with the little brother. Without getting caught by said resident advisor. Yeah—he’s a little stressed, to say the least.

→ a continuation of It’s Burning Up in Here.

PREVIEW

He didn’t sign up for this. He thought college would be a great idea—who would pass up the opportunity for ultimate freedom and youthful stupidity? No, he was ecstatic for college—but he definitely hadn’t signed up to be the fucking victim for his resident advisor’s boyfriend’s experiments.

“Hoseok-ssi, please stay still or otherwise this will hurt. A lot,” Namjoon begged as his friend Yoongi tried to hold him down on the fragile coffee table.

“That’s not what your needle’s saying! You said it was a harmless experiment! You said I’d be fine!”

“You will be! I just need practice drawing blood once—”

“You’ve never even done this before?” Hoseok shrieked, writhing some more. Yoongi growled in frustration and flung his entire weight onto Hoseok’s body—and thus effectively snapping the legs of the coffee table and sending them down towards the floor.

His advisor ran into the room then, eyes wide in alarm while holding a skillet filled with half-cooked meat, his creased white apron reading World’s Best Dad! in pretty cursive pink. “What the hell is going on here?”

untitled taekook* pairing(s): taekook, yoonjin genre: fluff, angst, humour, crack tags/warnings: restaurant au, running away, mentions of nudity, exhibitionism, does getting caught dancing naked in your room count as exhibitionism idek, mention of mpreg, but there’s no actual mpreg, i mean it’s the sims it’s not real, many many references to the male organ, but sorry folks no smut (A/N: this is literally what i have in my docs wow i’m such a nerd for preparing ao3 tags LMAO)

SUMMARY

The last thing Jungkook expected after running away to Seoul is to score a private live viewing of Naked_Neighbour_Dancing_In_His_Bedroom.mov—and then proceed to bump into him when he’s not-so-naked. And then also manage to greet him with a slap. It also probably doesn’t help that Nude Neighbour is his new boss. All in all, Jungkook just maybe kinda wants to die. (But of course Seokjin isn’t gonna allow him, so he’s just going to suffer—for now.)

PREVIEW

He sighs, turning his head to gaze out of the window, only to freeze when he realises his view isn’t exactly the most… decent.

Because across from his small studio apartment window is a perfect view of a larger apartment in the building across, and currently, the tenant (he hopes the boy’s the tenant) is enthusiastically dancing through his room completely naked, dinglehopper fully on display. He’s mouthing the words to some song, throwing a finger up in the air as he shuts his eyes and nods his head as though the music (Jungkook thinks there’s music) blasting in his room is speaking to him on a spiritual level.

Jungkook’s face is bright red when he finally breaks out of his trance, and he wishes he wasn’t so bad at reacting appropriately to inappropriate situations so he could at least have saved himself from adding a thirty-second clip of Nude Neighbour to his collection of non-digital memories. He rushes to the window and pulls the curtains close, fingers stiff as he tries to rid his brain of such scandalous images.

At least he was hot.

His face is redder now—if that’s even possible. “Fuck me,” he whispers, and then flushes even more. “Wait, no. Don’t fuck me. That’s not what—why am I even talking to myself. Agh.”

take these words out of my lungs (and set them free) pairing(s): vmin genre: angst, fluff tags/warnings: major character death, suicide attempt, depression, body image issues, depressed!jimin, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, ambiguous original character that appears for like five seconds, high school au

SUMMARY/PREVIEW

three pounds. that’s how much he’s gained since he last stepped on the scale, the dictator that rules over his life. he stares at the numbers again, frowning at the digits glaring up at him. perhaps there was a mistake; maybe the scale is rigged or jammed or simply broken. he couldn’t have possibly gained three pounds in a span of two days. hasn’t he been walking around his neighbourhood enough?

he sighs, stepping off the scale and turning around to flush the toilet before washing his hands. even the cold water burns his skin, and he wishes he could melt through the cracks on the floor. would he slim down then? would he finally be skinny enough?

“jimin!” he hears his mother call, and he forces his way from the sink, sneaking out his parent’s bathroom and into the living room outside. their apartment is small but cozy. jimin hates it.

untitled kim seokjin* pairing(s): platonic OT7 genre: fluff, angst tags/warnings: anxiety, depression, eating disorder, negative body image perception, lapslock (lower case)

SUMMARY

honestly, he can’t remember what it’s like to live anymore.

PREVIEW

breathe in. breathe out.

three lucky charms. four cereal pieces. seven bits down the drain.

he smiles, staring at the milk-stained sink as the spoon clatters against metal, bowl turned upside down. it’s ugly—white ink staining burnt grey like liquid cobwebs feeding on rust. it looks exactly as how he feels: dirty, wasted, trash. one-seventy-nine centimetres down the drain.

untitled kim taehyung pairing(s): Kim Taehyung/Reader genre: fluff, humour, probably angst bc knowing me tags/warnings: (sor far) nudity, profanity

SUMMARY/PREVIEW

Kim Taehyung has no regrets. Sure, he probably should’ve thought twice before he spent all of his money on BIGBANG merch just to show Jungkook that yes, he’s the bigger fanboy, and sure, he definitely should’ve listened to Jimin when he warned Taehyung that no, he shouldn’t eat three whole pizza pies by himself, but that doesn’t mean he regrets any of his decisions. Even though blowing all his earnings on people he’ll never meet did cause him to starve for a good or so month.

(Thank god for ramyeon.)

So, no, Jimin, he doesn’t regret running out of the shower butt naked when he heard her singing on her way to the second floor of their co-ed dorm, doesn’t regret shouting, “I love your voice!” before she screamed, “Oh my god, you’re naked!” And he definitely doesn’t regret yelling, “Oh, shit!” into Oblivion before sprinting back into the bathroom to resume the hot shower he abandoned.

“For fuck’s sake, Taehyung,” Jimin says to him once Taehyung’s finished recounting the story, the two of them lying side by side on Jimin’s bed. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”

“I should probably say hi,” Taehyung muses, blinking at the ceiling. “Do you think she remembers me?”

Jimin glances down, and snickers. “With how small your dick is, she probably does.”

untitled park jimin pairing(s): Park Jimin/Reader genre: fluff tags/warnings: (so far) blind!reader

SUMMARY

He is an angel; and she doesn’t need to see to believe. She fathoms his widespread wings as he gently picks her up, worriedly and urgently asking for her health, voice so soft it touches her skin like silk on smooth glass. His eyes must be crinkled in the corners, a smile stuttering through apologies, heart too warm for the human hand to touch. She imagines what he looks like, faintly deciding through his rapid Korean that he must be chesnut if not vanilla, not in skin but in connotation because he sounds and smells and feels like home.

Her pause is a millennia long, and she hears him repeat himself again, the sound of melting marshmallow oozing out of beautiful lips: “Are you alright?”

She produces a smile, feathery and light, eyes glassy and the world continues to remain black. “I’m fine,” she replies, and her voice is cracked from its lack of use; she hasn’t met anyone worth talking to in what feels like a century. Another smile reappears, much strained than what she’s used to, and she picks herself up from where the concrete lay, the dust falling from her voile skirt. “No damage done.”

untitled kim taehyung #2* pairing(s): Kim Taehyung/Reader, platonic OT7 genre: fluff, angst tags/warnings: i think it’s schizophrenia?, mental illnesses, depression

SUMMARY/PREVIEW

There is a moment when time stands still. It’s fleeting, escaping the moment your fingers curl around it and pull. But it is during this moment happiness enraptures you with its warm hug as your heart thunders against your chest—the steady thump, thump, thump of a snare drum awakening. It is during this moment pain ceases to exist.

But after, everything will come rushing back.

i have more but these are the ones that are decent, at the very least.

to pass the torch on, i’ll tag @minmelly @kinky-koreans @pasteljeonggukk @haneulismykoreanname @rnjmnster and anyone else who wants to do it! (if you don’t, no pressure. good luck to you and your writing!)

[meanwhileinoz]

17 Horror Stories Starring An ER Near You

AskReddit recently posed this question to nurses, doctors, surgeons, and other hospital workers: What are some of your hospital/ER horror stories?

As you can imagine, these 17 stories might make you a little queasy. Make sure to wait 30 minutes after eating before you read this article.

Photo Credit: Reader’s Digest

1. God Bless America

“My wife is a nurse. When she was back in college she did a rotation at the local VA. One day she heard some muffled yelling coming out of one of the rooms. She poked her head in the door to see if the guy was ok. Turns out he was standing in the middle of the room completely naked and singing ‘God Bless America’ whilst masturbating.”

2. Google It. Seriously. Do it.

“I passed out on top of a patient after seeing her prolapsed rectum fall out.”

3. Liquid Gold

“So had this probably 300-400 lb woman on the ward, they think she may have a bladder infection. Since she’s so big, no hope in the world of catching a proper specimen the normal way, so have to put a catheter in to drain the urine.

There’s me holding back skin/fat folds on the right, another nurse on the left, and the third nurse holding the tube trying to find the right hole. I”m holding probably 20lbs worth of extra skin back and no luck, so have to brace my forearms against the skinfolds, to try and pull back even more from around the hoo-ha area.

Eventually see a little dimple, YES! SUCCESS!! Tries putting the catheter in, but not going in for some reason, while the patient starts saying, “oh, oh, oh, I don’t think that’s quite right, that hurts, you’re too far forward,” Turns out the clitoris doesn’t pack on fatty tissue, so looked like a sunken little dot when surrounded by the pounds and pounds of extra fat. So we had to go even deeper to find that liquid gold.”

4. Decapitation

“So, my sister-in-law is a labor & delivery nurse, and I’ve heard some crazy, crazy shit. This one sticks with me though.

Patient was in labor, and the baby had died (not sure if it happened in the hospital, or before she arrived). Either way, she knew, but it was late-term, and it was essentially easier and safer to deliver the fetus than operate.

She delivers the fetus breach (feet first), and the head gets stuck. Then, the head detaches. So, the patient delivered a headless (dead) baby. Of course, they need to get the head out, so she gets wheeled into surgery. My sister-in-law walks into the OR to see the head roll off the bed and fall on the ground.”

5. Who Needs A Scrotum, Anyways?

“A man was brought in because he was so high that he tore off his own scrotum. Not as in ripped a little bit…he tore it off by himself.”

6. Vomit

“A Royal Marine, not long back from Belize, came into casualty at the hospital I work at. He had a ‘cyst’ swollen on the back of his neck. The guy was in agony. 3 local anaesthetic injections later, the doc attempted to lance the thing and it moved. He peeled off the top layer of skin to reveal a massive larvae wriggling underneath. About the size of a 50 pence coin. It popped out without any problems and was huge when it was unravelled. The hole in the marines neck was clean, amazingly. Great example of a host.”

7. I Think Your Patient Was A Zombie…

“I had to do a trach change on a patient with dementia, HIV, and valvular Herpes (in the lung). This patient was out of their mind and tried to bite people. While changing the trach, the patient gave me a demon stare the whole time. The patient coughed at me, spraying blood on my face shield, almost hitting my eye with HIV/Herpes blood.”

Photo Credit: YouTube

8. Ouchies

“Worked in a suburban hospital almost a decade ago. There was a multiple vehicle accident in the middle of the night. Patient arrives in the ER with his foot almost completely detached from his ankle. Patient was apparently standing on the car brake to try and stop his vehicle during the accident. After impact, his foot must have been compressed in such a way that it became at a right angle from the rest of his body. When you walked past his bed in the ER you passed one normal foot and then were staring into the two distal portions of the tibia and fibula, hanging tendons and ligaments, muscles that were marred, dripping blood, and a hanging foot.”

9. Unexpected Visitors

“Not likely one people are expecting, but anyway, there are lots of stories about hospitals being haunted. Basically, if you believe in ghosts, you gotta believe a place where probably 95% of deaths occur in Western society is gonna have a few extra spirits lurking.

So a woman I work with tells this story how she showed up to work early for her shift, around 6:30 a.m., things are pretty much dead quiet (no pun intended). She gets on the empty elevator, hits the button for the 9th floor, elevator goes up to the 11th floor, doors open, no one there, doors close, back down to the 9th floor, as she gets off sees an old woman standing behind her in the elevator.”

10. Odd Indeed

“I worked at an Anatomic Pathology Laboratory which was divided up into differect sections. I spent most of my time in Cytology which is mostly swabs like PAP Smears, but we received all the lab’s Gynecological specimens first then passed them on to other sections like Histology or PCR. This was by far the strangest “specimen” ever: a disturbed woman had been going to the beach, picking out shells, then inserting them into her vagina.

After a while she fell ill (horrific infection) and the family took her to the hospital. They were just compacted up inside of her, as many as she could fit. It was so atrocious since they were dirty but the poor woman had cut herself with jagged shards of shell. We received the shells to document (for social workers/doctors/possible evidence of neglect on her care-takers) and store but once all charges/suspicions were cleared, they were destroyed with all the other medical waste. It was disgusting but the oddness of it all just topped it.”

11. Nearly Headless

“My good friend is a nurse’s attendant. The strangest thing she’s ever told me about was a woman who came into the ER after a suicide attempt. This woman had “slit” her wrists and her throat. She had almost completely severed one hand and her head was being held on by the skin at the back of her neck and maybe a bit of muscle. Somehow the paramedics got her to the hospital alive. My friend has to hold this woman’s head in place while the doctors did their thing. The patient died (to no ones suprise) and the doctor made my friend look down the neck with the head held back as a little anatomy lesson.”

Photo Credit: harrypotter.wikia.com

12. Trouser Snake Trap

“My mom used to be a nurse a few years ago and she said that a guy came into the emergency room with a large trench coat on saying that he needed immediate attention. When they brought him back, they took of the trench coat to reveal a skinny metal pipe stuck around his dick. She said that it was starting to turn purple and that to get the pipe off, they need to cut it. The patient only heard cut it off though and assumed that they were going to relieve him of his manhood, so he starts screaming and shouting and trying to leave. Just at that moment a janitor walks in with a pair of bolt cutters and the patient turns sheet white and passes out. Finally they cut off the pipe and the guy gets to walk away with his trouser snake intact.”

13. Not That Kind of Bush

“Was shadowing a doctor deciding if I wanted to be one (currently awaiting my interviews) and this woman came into the ER. I go in with my doctor and she’s acting very strangely. The doc asks her why she’s here and she says….I have leaves growing out of my vagina. We look at each other, look back at her, and both say ‘what?’ at the same time. So she strips down and sure enough…leaves. I grew up on a farm and recognize it right away but keep my mouth shut.

He puts in the speculum, says AHA! and extracts a hollowed out potato end. As soon as she sees it she’s like, “OH YEAH!, I forgot about that.” (this woman clearly has some other shit going on).

So she tells us how her and her boyfriend wanted to have sex but didn’t have a condom and couldn’t find her cervical cap. They got creative and made one out of a potato…and she “guesses she forgot about it”.

The image of leaves growing out of a vagina will haunt me to my dying day.”

The post 17 Horror Stories Starring An ER Near You appeared first on .

https://postaddict.com/2018/04/16/17-horror-stories-starring-an-er-near-you/

[st-m-n-m-music-notes]

Fanny Crosby

♫ Music Notes

The new trial sanctoral cycle (also known as a hagiography, or list of saints’ days and commemorations) in the Episcopal Church, A Great Cloud of Witnesses (formerly known as Holy Women, Holy Men), made a significant effort to broaden our remembrances beyond what was predominantly a list of white male celibate clergy who lived many centuries ago. Our new list includes many more women, lay persons, married people, people of color, Protestants, persons from other denominations, and persons from more recent times. A good example of that is the upcoming observance on February 11 of the life of the blind poet Francis Jane (Fanny) van Alstyne Crosby (1820-1915).

With over 8,000 sacred texts, Fanny Crosby was the most prolific hymn writer in the evangelical tradition. She could hear a tune and almost immediately write a hymn to go with the music. She lost her sight as an infant. She lived most of her life in New York City, and was married to a blind musician.  Crosby served on the faculty of the New York School for the Blind, and was a lifelong Methodist. About her blindness, she said:

"It seemed intended by the blessed providence of God that I should be blind all my life, and I thank him for the dispensation. If perfect earthly sight were offered me tomorrow I would not accept it. I might not have sung hymns to the praise of God if I had been distracted by the beautiful and interesting things about me…. If I had a choice, I would still choose to remain blind...for when I die, the first face I will ever see will be the face of my blessed Savior." 

Among her best known hymns are “Jesus, keep me near the cross,” “To God be the glory,” “Rescue the perishing,” “Pass me not, O gentle Savior,” and “Blessed assurance.” Her hymns are well represented in the African-American hymnal Lift Every Voice and Sing. “Blessed assurance” is often listed in the top ten most popular hymns in Protestant denominations. It was published in 1887, and used extensively in Britain and the USA in the Moody and Sankey revival meetings.

The story behind its writing is told in Crosby’s autobiography, Memories of Eighty Years (1906):            “In a successful song words and music must harmonize, not only in number of syllables, but in subject matter and especially accent. In nine cases out of ten the success of a hymn depends directly upon these qualities. Thus, melodies tell their own tale, and it is the purpose of the poet to interpret this musical story into language. Not infrequently a composer asks, ‘What does that melody say to you?’ And if it says nothing to you the probability is that your words will not agree with the music when an attempt is made to join them. “Blessed Assurance” was written to a melody composed by my friend Mrs. Joseph F. Knapp [Phoebe P. Knapp]; she played it over once or twice on the piano and then asked me what it said to me. I replied, Blessed assurance, Jesus in mine! O what a foretaste of glory divine! Heir of salvation, purchase of God, born of His spirit, washed in His blood.            The hymn thus written seemed to express the experience of both Mrs. Knapp and myself.”            The hymns of Fanny Crosby are not without their detractors. Her words, and the music usually associated with them, are often criticized for being excessively sentimental. The focus is almost exclusively on a religion of “just me and Jesus.” In other words, they are about the salvation of the individual soul, rather than about God, and almost never point to the life of a Christian in the world, or the Church and its worship and sacraments. That, of course, is a modern perspective rarely seen in hymns from the 19th century.

And yet, her hymns are beloved by many. People just like to sing them! This is reflected in a parody of her hymn “Pass me not, O gentle Savior” in which a typical congregant pleads for the selection of hymns they know and love, rather than other types of hymns from various ages and traditions. “Sing a song by Fanny Crosby” is sung to the tune Pass Me Not. It was written by someone with the initials J. T. S. in 1988…

 1. Sing a song by Fanny Crosby ev’ry Sabbath day;

  pay no heed to those who claim that she is déclassé.              

Refrain: Pastor, Pastor, hear my irate cry:

  when you pick the hymns for Sunday, don’t pass Fanny by!

2. Gregory the Great is no saint to us Protestants;

  we’ve abandoned all his dogma. Why intone his chants?

3. Lutheran chorales are boring, lengthy and morose;

  Fanny’s hymns are twice as peppy, and half as verbose.

4. Calvinists transformed the Psalter into metric verse;

  Though the texts may not be noble, yea, the tunes be worse.

5. Folk Mass music is atrocious, lacking tune and rhyme,

    and they’ve massacred the meter, cramming extra words in all the time.            

 Fanny Crosby’s life is an inspiring witness to one women’s determination not to let her status as a woman, nor her disability, get in the way of living a life of Christian witness and being used by God to make a real difference in the world.

The Rev. Dr. David Kerr Park, Director of Music