#very much the small moments of: our paths may be different but sometimes they can come together and run parallel too and that's okay!!!!!!!

[defeateddetectives]

nothing meaningful to add as others have done some great deep dives into a lot of the subtext here but i mostly just feel the need to frequently gaze at these panels because there's something so much softer and gentler and more comfortable about them here (especially when compared to how bristly and on edge they felt in early miharu arc not that long ago) 🥺

[iloveyouemanuelmarco]

Hmm, I've been thinking(Okay so for context, for all my life up to now aka since being born technically, I was raised into a family household that believed in Christianity but mostly leaned towards the Catholicism parts of such since I've heard there are many different types of people of faith with all different names and traditions, customs and cultures of said interest and everything which I think is pretty cool in its own right atleast but anyways- From what I can remember from being apart of my small and average main family system, my mom along with my grandmother from her side of relatives and such, are seemingly the most passionate and active in the church when compared to my dad. My father isn't hateful about such beliefs nor is he even considered an aethetist or agnostic, but he hasn't been following many of the typical "rules" or societal normaly that is considered when being apart of said group. For example, while my mom and grandma go to church every Sunday whenever they can so they can worship our lord and savior of God and his son, Jesus Christ, my dad is often uninterested in traveling to make the literal 5-10 minute journey though he mostly stays inside anyways watching old movies from different foreign countries sooo(No hate to him by the way, if it pleases him then I hope he has fun doing that^^). I'll admit, while I do make attempts to go with my mom, I often find myself unable to due to disinterest, but it's not disinterest in him ofcourse. I would never ad I love him very much and always have, but it feels like even though I do care about our Holy Father and that I haven't directly rejected him, my current daily life atleast as of lately has been feeling like I have currently abandoned him somehow or that I have somehow drifted away from the right path and have become deaf to his word. It honestly makes me very upset since I should be more loyal and honest to him now that I think about it. I used to be such a happy little girl who would pray every day in the morning before school and at every night before bed. I used to go to a private religious catholic school where I would go to church there sometimes too(half of the time it was mandatory on certain days during the hours but still)and even if I didn't understand everything due to my young age, I would quietly sit and listen I'm an attempt to learn more about the holy scriptures and such with my classmates and the other students from different grades/ages. I used to prepare for the moments during one's usual journey, being excited that I would become closer to God by wearing my white dress and getting baptized with other certain selected students(I don't remember what the specific event was called but I remember it being very important to me at the time)and I don't know...I sorta miss it. I miss being so happy and careless of all my anxieties but now I am stuck here...I don't want to stray away from God's love any longer, I don't want my true reality to break away because it makes me afraid of if I somehow commit some sort of unforgivable sin that'll destroy any sense of humanity I have left...(I know that sounds dramatic but please. I am really trying to make a solid attempt at explaining all of this right now so as complex as it may seem, keep in mind that my brain is starting to function again for once in the dying light that is my empty and boring life that while I am still grateful for, has been causing me much hurt and pain in so many ways). Currently I am a 16 year old eurocentric and privileged middle-class white-latino feminine presenting person who is actually a member of the LGBTQIA+ and neurodivergent community too according to doctors/psychiatrists or something(I don't know, that's what my dad has said since my late diagnosis at 12 which is that even late?? It's so confusing at times ughh but that's just how it is I guess haha).

On the internet, specifically here and on the couple of social media platforms that I publicly have, I have used these safe spaces to more accurately and honestly express myself when it comes to my identity not only when it comes to sexuality and gender but also with the intersectionality of my race and ethnicity, my hobbies, interests and talents, my wants and needs and etc. I have said before that I am a privileged and middle-class eurocentric 16 year old white-latino feminine person in real life but actually wants to present as more of who I am being a bisexual(male preference having)aceflux female to male transgender person who to be honest is probably more of a mostly male but still bigender or genderfluid person since I still feel connected to growing up in perceived girlhood but I don't know yet...who does know though at that point???Pfttt...I don't hate my body and I know God made me beautiful in my own way just like all the other unique people he created all through out the history of the planet Earth, but sometimes it can be hard since I think the most queer people see me as is just maybe a bisexual cis girl who might be on the asexual spectrum???I hope I am making some sort of sense with my explanation...somehow so with all that being said, I guess I've had some sort of short epiphany in my brain where I've realized something important for me that I've almost forgotten. I need to actively take steps to come back to God and I know somewhat of how to do it but I would appreciate a little more help from others with more expertise aka experience for those who don't have a big and fancy vocabulary in their inner-mind library haha- I do sincerly apologize if I have caused genuine annoyance for anyone with this post for whatever reason as my normal posts are coming back soon once I get back online but for now, I need to go study and do more research on how I can save myself and others for when he comes again. I know it sounds scary but it's actually wonderful so please don't be scared of him, because he loves us all no matter what and nothing can turn us away from him. Worship him and confess your sins because it's good to be honest and he loves you, after all he knows you best like you know yourself since he created the beautiful building of love and passion got the world that is your soul. It's never to late to choose him and to spread the good word of the gospel<3. Please stay safe and have a good day or night wherever you are and thank you if you've read the entire paragraphs of rambles I've written haha. I really do appreciate your support whether it be here, there or anywhere else!!:)You must keep surviving for you and I, for us and eachother but also for him too...

Also P.S: Hope you guys don't mind but I'm gonna put a nice scenery image here since I like being calmed down and enjoy embracing the beauty of nature, especially when we're lucky enough as humans to photograph the right moments atleast!!Other animals sadly only get to enjoy it in the moment which can be too fast since they're constantly needing to survive actively♡.

[gayliketheancients]

I'm SORRY (Every Single Song Is About You)

In another addition of 'Gay Writes': I am almost done with a project that will be coming up here TONIGHT. BKDK fans, I come bearing the Karaoke AU of ultimate pain.

This was the work that got me back into writing fanfic. I'm not going to lie, you guys love a good, angtsy, mess, painful, exes-to-lovers BKDK, and as it is a trope I love dearly, I'm here to present a sneak peak.

This is gonna be a Big Boy down below

EVERY SINGLE SONG IS ABOUT YOU

Ships: BKDK, KiriMina, a surprise polycule

Warnings: SO MANY. THIS. IS. MESSY. PEAK BKDK MESSY. infidelity (not between any of the main ships but it's literally the opening chapters, my dude. HEAVY on a dont like dont read policy), true and real behaviors of people with trauma, morally questionable moments, BDSM sex and etiquiette (both bad dynamics and teaching to learn good), violence, death, etc.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: exes-to-lovers, karaoke bar AU, songfic - kinda, canon divergent, Heroes all make it to be pro-heroes au, I am currently waiting for the manga to finish to binge but I was reading religiously at the time of this story being written - so it is adjacent in some ways, homophobic views (societal, internalized, externalized), angst with a happy ending

THE SNEAK PEAK:

After a near death experience leaves him with both memory loss and his ex-boyfriend at his bedside across the world from their hometown, Izuku decides he's done waiting for thing to fix itself. He moves back home from the States and in a true return to form, starts chasing after the one thing he wants but can't seem to get - Kacchan.

A painful story about how love is often as imperfect as we are, and the ways living makes it worth it.

A QUOTE FROM THE PROLOGUE:

Love is like a flame. It does not discriminate, it doesn’t give a shit about your situation or who you want to become. The smallest spark on kindling can cause a chain reaction that will shape the rest of your life. You may have plans, but love is there to take you off of your carefully crafted path and lead you into an offshoot of the future to create a new one. Love doesn’t care what your plans are or who you feel required to become. All love cares about is getting fed, and no matter if it’s oxygen or wood, the fire demands to continue burning.

The thing about love that makes it like a flame is that it hurts. It’s bright and vibrant and beautiful, but it’s also the most destructive force on the planet. Wars have been raged over love, countries toppled, governments and knowledge lost to the power of love having a ripple effect through history. And it will never end. There will be heartbreaks where you feel like you’ve lost so much more than just a partner, like you’ve lost part of yourself as well. This is the way it is, the way it will always be. When you love, you run the risk of being burned. There is always the chance that you will get hurt. 

But, believe that it’s worth it. Loving people is always worth it. It is true that your heartbreak will hurt for as long as you still love them. It is true that some loves are there to push you to where you need to go. Love is not always soft and gentle. Sometimes it’s feral and possessive and it means to destroy everything you’ve ever known about yourself and your life. You have the option to let it run wild and destroy the forest of your existence and allow things to grow back new and different, or you can do small, controlled instances with love where you end things before they can become too intense. 

Not all love is meant to bring tectonic level change to your life, but all of the right kinds of love will. No matter how hard we try, love is the reason for our existence. You’re never supposed to have a perfect experience with love. The fantasy of soulmates who are perfectly in sync from the moment they meet until one of them dies is very seldom a true representation of life changing love. It will be messy. There will be fights, challenges, struggles along the way. You will not always be ready, willing or able to deal with the problems that arise. The meaning of being together may get lost somewhere along the way. 

Love is more than just a feeling or a commitment, it is also a sacrifice. The best way to describe love is knowing that allowing it in your life is akin to taking a leap of faith. You may feel like a fool, but the small act of allowing the love in will put you on a journey that you never saw coming. Life and love are the longest lasting of soulmates. Life brings you in and gives you values, meanings, a purpose. Love takes what you know and puts it on its head in order to show you the truth of it, and the truth will set you free. Love brings you meaning, hope, and the ability to distinguish what makes life worth living. 

Love is more than a partner, just like life is more than a series of breaths. They create balance together, and are dangerous apart. To live without love is surviving in the bleakest manner possible, and to love without life is grief in its purest form. There is no one without the other. 

I want to take this moment to encourage you to live and to love deeply. Not all love is romantic, and not all life is dripping with excitement. Love your friends, your family, strangers you pass on the street. Love yourself, because you fucking deserve it. The act of loving is what makes the human experience of life bearable and worth the pain. Do not mistake this as advice saying you need a partner to truly live life to the fullest. Instead, try and reflect on the ones you love as pillars for the best life possible. The more pillars you have, the more sturdy you will become as you continue to live. 

Love is worth it, and so are you.

[maiji]

Hi Maiji! My Lenormand question: what could I do to spark some creative energy when I feel like I'm running on fumes with all my projects?

Numbers: 8, 32

Thank you for this question, I really feel this in my creative and multitasking soul! Also, I know you're familiar with this deck and its symbols already ❤️ so you may have some thoughts once you see the cards pulled, and again some of these ideas are likely not totally fresh or new. But hopefully there are some ideas that may shine today under a new light, and be helpful in some way!

#8 was The Mice, and #32 drew the Key!

The Mice can represent things, often little things, that eat away at us, steal our resources (energy?), wear us down. Meanwhile, The Key can be a sign of something that needs our attention.

For anyone reading this, this is an example of a case (that can come up quite a bit, to be honest) where the cards drawn don't seem - at first glance - to provide a path to answers as much as they seem to be simply describing the situation or problem you already know. Which can initially be like "Wow! Amazing! Such immediate relevance!" but then the next feeling can be, "OK, that's great that it's obviously reflecting my issue/concern back at me, but what can I do about it?"

In instances like this, I personally find it helpful to remember: the reason it may seem so stunningly relevant in describing the issue at hand is because of ourselves. It's so clear to us because it's what been weighing on our mind, possibly blocking us from seeing solutions. So the next part is where it gets trickier - and funnily enough in the context of this question, calls on us to stretch our creative muscles to dig deeper. To hunt for potential insights, to try to look at things from different angles. Which, as an activity in and of itself, can sometimes be helpful just to get you going in terms of considering something else, and then to start noticing those things and those opportunities as you go throughout your day.

The Key can also represent a key. A solution, or a missing piece to unlock a puzzle. I wonder if we can look again at the symbols and associations of The Mice to find some ideas, or at least something to help us shift our perspective.

The Mice can also represent things that need to be repaired/fixed - something to be taken care of. Maybe the Key is pointing out that if these things can be addressed, that could be a solution - hopefully something more long term than a band-aid. Some other thoughts:

Mice are small but numerous, and sometimes it feels like our problems are that way too, that they keep growing and proliferating and building up.

But is that purely the domain of negative things? Could positive things not do that too?

Is creativity only something that can be done in massive sustained bouts? Is creative energy only something that exists in giant fireworks? Or can our creative sparks and moments and work also be like little mice? A little nibble here, a little nibble there. Letting all the little things build up and gnaw at what may seem like an immense pile over time, and recognizing that there's power in that too.

Maybe they'll hit a tipping point and snowball, but if not could this be workable too?

Perhaps we can look at how we are tackling our projects - not just from the tasks we are doing, but the emotional investment we are pouring into them. Can we ease the power, passion, focus? Not that this means diluting it, but spreading it out and being gentle with ourselves (as the very cute small furry creatures we can imagine ourselves to be), so that we don't burn out?

In my overview document, I note that the meaning of the Mice cards in Lenormand is rooted in a particular perspective. In Chinese culture, rats and mice are seen much more positively. There's a reason the first sign of the Chinese/Eastern zodiac is a rat/mouse! It's a clever creature that can size up the situation and untie tricky knots. Actually, as you may know, the way the rat/mouse got into first position was through a bit of offloading of work. Depending on the version of the story, the approach varies, but usually it tricks or piggybacks off of the efforts of another animal. Not saying that I'm condoning cheating or tricking other people, but I wonder if there are things you could do to "trick" yourself into being able to feel like you're making more progress, to make "work work" feel more creative or support/feed creative labour and be more fun, or assessing the work so that something you're doing could be used for/to further multiple projects.

And the ability of mice to hoard things is also seen as a positive - creating an abundance of wealth, maybe storing up an abundance of ideas that you can return to later. Or just recognizing maybe we need to save for that rainy day when it comes to our creative energy as well. If you need to rest, recognize that too.

Earlier I mentioned the Key can represent a missing piece. If we took that idea literally, and extended it to an actual puzzle - a game - is some kind of diversion in order? Our brains do a lot even when we're not actively thinking about a project. From personal experience, I've definitely had a lot of times where I just took a "vacation" - stopped working on something, let the juices percolate in my subconsciousness and the seeds sprout without me constantly working the soil... and then one day it manifests, and I'm at it again with refreshed insight, inspiration and enthusiasm.

One last thought - rereading my overview document, I notice I commented that "ancient Chinese keys are pretty utilitarian and mundane looking". It does remind me of my own feelings about how creative work can feel like a slog when you're doing it, and sometimes that is the reality that I cannot escape from. But I also reminds me I can be practical about that - after all, the key is in my own hands. If everything I turn to is becoming 100% a slog, that's probably a sign that this is not sustainable. At the very least, a good nap is probably in order, and perhaps a bigger break or a reset of some sort.

I hope there was something to spark an idea. Sending you a lot of good wishes for creative energy!

---

Thanks for requesting a limited time free reading to celebrate the new edition of the Fortune Lenormand oracle/art deck!

Want to dive deeper?

Fortune Lenormand oracle/art deck - there's a free downloadable overview of card meanings!

humangray.com/lenormand - more info and resources/links!

(Note: these readings are being done with my old card deck from the original printing. There's not much difference with the new edition available in the link above - the biggest one is that the new edition has a custom box ooh ahh!)

[burnedastra]

Funny Thing

It’s a funny thing, you know, how fast things can change. How one move, that doesn’t seem like much at the time – and honestly, they never do – can transfigure your story forever. How in one single instant, everything you know and believe in your soul can shake to its core. How one single breath can make all the difference between to opposite paths of your journey. And how sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, everything aligns just right so you get to experience it. Funny thing really, how with one glance, one smile, one touch, someone can become such a huge part of your story.

I don’t know if I ever really believed in fate you know. I am not even sure I like the idea. Not that pure random chances get a more sacred spot in my eyes, but sometimes, maybe everything feels like it’s too much not to be part of some higher plot. Maybe part of it is written somewhere, or maybe I just fantasize about it, the feeling becoming so overwhelming I can’t quite grasp the idea of it being due to simple coincidences. Because so much happened for all of this to happen. So many small decisions, last minutes ideas as much as long reflective thoughts. Some heartbreaking obstacles and both of us just pushing through it all, hoping, praying it will somehow get better, that we would get just one break. I can’t say what it was like from your point of you, but I can explain my experience of the story. Here it goes.

I didn’t have the happiest of childhoods. Some of my most beloved confidents would tell you it’s an understatement and I’m minimizing everything that happen. I made peace with it by now, those are the cards I was given, and even if the game is clearly rigged, I find myself liking more than I thought I ever would how the party is turning out. And somehow, I think I managed pretty well to turn the misplayed hands in my favor, even if it wasn’t without hopeless moments. I like to reflect on those, and how they metamorphosed my story. I was never I school-smart kid, and even if my family situation can explain why I didn’t work that much at home, it would be false to say it was all there was. They told me from an early grade that I needed to just do better, and even then, I was too proud to explain everything that was wrong around me. So I pushed and I pushed, until they didn’t let me pass the next grade. I remember crying so much that day, the news of being held back, of having one more year in a place I hated to much, that made me hate myself so much, was unbearable. And yet, now as I look back on it, it may just have been one of the best things that could have happened to me. For everything that I cherish in my life, I wouldn’t have if it didn’t turn this way. For it allowed me to have one more year to know what I wanted to do, it made me encounter my favorite people on that earth who introduced me to other beautiful messes of human beings. Those people, who somehow never gave up on me, no matter the false steps I made. Those who helped me understand that hurting people was okay, as long as you didn’t do it on purpose and you sincerely apologized, and that it none of those mistakes truly defined you as a person. Those people who still try to teach me that it’s okay to not always do it on my own, that it’s okay to let it go, to be vulnerable and even cry from time to time, that strengths don’t stop there.

And as for smaller, unpredictable choices, it’s too much to believe it wasn’t a perfect alignment of the stars. I am no math fan, but I’m pretty convinced the probability of you, reconnecting with a long-lost friend, who just happens to be dating one of my favorite people, giving us just the occasion to meet before splitting thousands of kilometers away, is indeed very low. And yet it felt way too obvious for me to just let it go, way too obvious for it to be just a coincidence, to not be a part of the big plot of our lives.

Now, I’m not saying this makes it in anyway easy. That the Universe planning it just magically erases all the issues we could face, because this would me way too evident of a lie. However, I am saying that it makes it all worth it in my eyes. For when I look into yours, I don’t doubt a thing. For from that very first encounter, you spined everything around me, slowly becoming one of the main focuses of my psyche, building your nest deep inside my soul. And for the first time, the things I always held to, protected with the highest and strongest wall possible, I feel safe sharing it all with you. I feel at peace with being everything that I am, was and wish to be. And I fell it all blossoming in the most perfect, imperfect way possible, and when I look into your eyes, I truly get that even if I can do it alone, I don’t have to. That not everything I am needs to be kept and locked away, letting me be afraid of them being the cause I’m rejected. Funny thing, the impact you have without realizing it and being scared to do the opposite. How you came in a moment in my life when I was slowly stopping to believe that love was for me, and that I would always be on the sideline. How from a stranger that a friend told me I would like, you took the dusty throne I used to watch hopelessly, waiting for someone to sit in it. How that butterfly effect brought us together, and how we accepted to play along, because you can’t just ignore it. I truly find it all a funny thing.

[fallinto-u]

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A post shared by Trevor Carroll (@trevorcarroll)

Sitting and trying to distract myself through a panic attack, I was scrolling and came across this video. As I listened and compared to the things that have been happening, huge part of me was resisting. But then also realized that in the past, after the worst of times and sometimes a huge reset, things did change for the better. Or if not better, into a different direction at the very least. Another direction eventually came with new opportunities.

If you remember, we talked about this resisting feeling when it came to trying to finish the Frequency book. That resisting feeling towards hope and positivity has been strong for quite a while. But watching this reminded me back of the mindset we once were able to have. It may have changed, and it may all seem pointless right now as we’re going through the worst. But being reminded of what my mind was once capable of, what state I could get into, gave me a little spark of hope and insight again. A small, very small dose of hope. And that’s scary, I may push it away and sabotage right after this again. But maybe with small repeated glimmers of these moments, it may eventually be rebuild again. Bit by bit.

It may sound cliché what's being said in the video but as I thought deeper about my situations, I do see some truth to those words. I do see that I'm literally being pushed into certain directions that wouldn't have motivated me enough if I had stayed in the exact same place. For example, my situation at home getting even way worse and more overwhelming has finally actually pushed me to take steps towards moving out. I don't know how I'll get there, it overwhelms and scares me, but at least I am taking action because I literally cannot stay in this environment for much longer.

As well as my mental health getting at the lowest I imagined it could get. If it didn't get this far, I would have been too anxious, resisting trying out new medication. Now I literally don't have a choice, and can't get that much more anxious on top of what I experience every single moment anyway. The new meds may hopefully benefit/support me in the long run to feel at least a little less anxious going through life.

Last example, and I'm sorry for oversharing and ranting here. But if I didn't get burnt out from life, being stuck at home almost unable to socialize at this point, I wouldn't have found my current therapist. This is the first therapist who comes with the insight that she's pretty sure I have autism and adhd. Adhd I suspected but autism? Completely new insight. But the more I learned about it, the more everything made sense. I thought of our conversations on topics related to that as well. A lot of things fell into place.

Yes all these examples seem to be a blessing in the end,but I haven't experienced them as such yet. I'm honestly still in the midst of hell and I'm afraid you are too. But this is the first time I'm at least able to see things in a different light.

If we were still talking I would’ve sent you the video. Not to force you to be positive or feel hopeful or any different. Rather just to remind you that once it was possible. To remind you that if you would ever want to, it is still available and out there for you. No matter how far you’ve wandered. You can always find your way back to a more stable path, or create a new one. In one of your voice messages I've recently listened to in a moment of despair, you said "You're never too far gone. It's never too late, I promise ". Also something along the lines of that even after the worst of storms, earthquakes and wars, people always rebuild. No matter how awfully destroyed everything is.

I’m always rooting for you. It’s fucking hard, but you’re doing damn well holding on every single day. No matter how you need to get through right now. I'm trying to remember and do the same. Each day we survive is a huge accomplishment, no matter how we had to make it work. You’re still here and trying. I’m proud of you always.

[chronocidalrage]

Yet Another Bummer Christmas

SNL We were watching Cecily Strong’s last episode. It made me kinda sad. SNL has always been like family to me. Probably because we all watched that stuff together as a family when I was younger. I’m gonna miss Cecily (just like I miss every cast member when they leave lol).

Made me think of Atom. How I’m gonna lose other people too, not just him. I can’t imagine losing another important person right now.

But I guess I'm always gonna lose people, I can’t control that. So I guess I just have to make sure I don’t lose myself.

FAMILY I want them to admit it may be harder for me on Christmas than it is for them (since their Christmases have been Atom-less for over a decade).

I've been in unexplored territory for a few years now. When Susie and I worked through things and moved on, I kinda lapped Atom and he could no longer be my life guide. I guess that's a big part of the issue for me in recent years, I'm my own guide now and I don't think I'm a very good one.

We were both brave though. It must have been hard to support me as I moved on, constantly moving further away, and it must’ve been hard for me to pursue paths that took me further away from him. We both tried to do the right thing.

It’s the fear of the unknown. New territory. Not knowing how things are gonna go. I want to know how things are going to go because I don’t trust myself to figure it out.

XMAS EVE I forget we used to hang out and go through our stockings every year. Christmas Eve was our time.

CHRISTMAS DAY I’m "passengering" again. Stop.

The Christmas Vacation sweatshirt that I was looking forward to wearing today is too snug. It "fits" but it's small and I'm uncomfortable. I need to really commit to being better. Now.

Big talk with Susie. I worry that I am a trap and a major drain on her life, and ironically that belief is what is a major drain on her life.

The secret to fixing this problem (feeling like a drain on Susie) is to realize that I’m not one.

She wants to say nice things because she wants to, not because she needs to. If it’s given, it’s nice. If it’s requested, it’s not. She doesn’t want to deal with things when my self esteem is wrapped up in it. She wants it pure. That makes sense. She’s afraid of enabling me.

I am constantly reading every second of every interaction from the perspective of “what does this say about my likability,” which sets everything off. Since that’s how I see everything, sometimes I hit the target, the whole “broken clock” thing. I can also be very likable due to my obsession, I know how to be likable because likability is the science I study.

It’s not our fault I ended up codependent on Susie. That was a surprise to both of us.

It’s not that I’m not as great as I want to be, it’s that I shouldn’t always need to be CONVINCED that I’m great.

So I gotta forgive myself and let myself go from feeling like a burden to Susie. That’s the way to stop being one. She’s forgiven me and wants to move on. I guess that’s what I feel like: a burden to Susie, a betrayer of Atom, and a nothing to everyone else.

But think about what you are to YOU. Not just everyone else.

I can tell I have a tendency to be dependent on people, and I don’t like that about myself so I try to avoid people rather than fix the problem.

I feel bad that I’m dependent on Susie, but I am.

And it must be very different to be with me when I’m NOT dependent. When everything isn’t twisted and turned into a symbol of how she feels about me.

That probably affects any potentially nice moments between us too. To me, it’s not just about the nice moment, it’s about what that moment says about her feelings towards me. Good lord, I must be exhausting.

PODCAST SHIT I’m creating characters and telling stories all the time now. That’s pretty cool. I can feel good about that even if other people don't fully get it.

TRY TO SEE BOB Bob Wakeham really might not have much time left. Try to him Wednesday (12/28/22) maybe. Scott and mom may come to MA that same day.

[the-zurdok]

10 Top Lessons From the Book “Ikigai” 📚Book Review

1. Even small efforts can make an impact. ✨“If our hopes of building a better and safer world are to become more than wishful thinking, we will need the engagement of volunteers more than ever.”

2. Finding gratitude even through the hard times is a choice. 👉There is so much to be grateful for. Sometimes we need a nudge to remind ourselves of what we have – a house, a family, a job.

3. A sense of community and belonging is important. 💥Promoting a sense of belonging and connectivity will ultimately lead to a greater community – whether at work, school or home. 👉People want to feel in.

4. Don’t be afraid to dream big and take that leap. 💥Opening oneself up to failures is the only way to progress, learn and grow. ❌Why not dream big? Rather than living a life of regret, dream big and work hard at living a life of meaning, growth and purpose.

5. Find your passion and put it into action. ➡️Self-discovery is an interesting path. Finding what drives you and motivates you will bring about a greater sense of happiness and fulfillment.

6. Never take anything for granted. ⛔Take a moment to appreciate the simple things. Walk away from your office, desk, daily mundane tasks and consciously take in your surroundings. ✅You can find the silver lining in everything.

7. Authenticity, genuineness and kindness are magnetic. 🔹Being authentic, genuine and kind attract others to you and helps you to not only immerse yourself in deeper human connections, but also more meaningful interactions.

8. We are all more alike than different. ❗We all aim for success and greatness in our own right. We take pride in our accomplishments. 💥Our journeys may look different, but our quest to live the best life possible transcends all boundaries.

9. Be a good global citizen. 👤We are faced with social issues that are on both a local and global scale. Show compassion and be kind. Two important traits I choose to live by and instill in my children. 👉Treat others the way you wish to be treated. It’s as simple as that!

10. Every experience can be a powerful lesson. 🔎Oprah Winfrey said “No experience is ever wasted. Everything has meaning.”

Hope it was useful for you.😃 ✅Make sure to FOLLOW (@1DeepNote) ✅Please push the RT button on the very first tweet to help others find it easily

[eponymous-rose]

A Critical Role Campaign 2 Mechanics Primer

Got a request from a new Critical Role viewer for some clarification re: rules and characters, and dang, yes, there’s so much stuff to deal with as a new viewer at the moment. So here’s an attempt at clarifying some stuff!

How does D&D work?

Fundamentally, one person (the DM) sets the scene and the players riff off that scene by acting out what their characters would do in response. Whenever a player’s actions would lead to an uncertain result, the DM can call for them to roll a die and try to hit a predetermined target number to see if they succeed. The players’ individual characters have abilities that boost certain categories of rolls and penalize others; a very strong character is more likely than a scrawny one to be able to open a jammed door, but they could still have an unlucky roll. It’s the DM’s job to incorporate the sometimes-absurd results of those die rolls into a coherent story.

Combat is the most “gamey” D&D gets, where everyone has a turn set aside to act (with an order determined by the “initiative” roll that starts combat). This is where character classes come in handy: magic-users cast spells, fighters jump in with their weapons of choice, and so forth. Each character has a set of hit points, and once those reach zero, the character is unconscious and possibly dying. But combat ain’t just hack-and-slash: there can be conversation, strategy, manipulation, collaboration, and all sorts of weird subtleties going on. Fundamentally, players’ actions are limited only by their imaginations.

It can be super weird getting into a D&D show even if you have played a bit because everyone plays the game a bit differently. Critical Role’s gameplay leans hard into roleplaying and character beats (there are episodes with basically no dice rolls) but also leans hard enough into the rules that a random bad or good roll can completely derail the story; rolls aren’t fudged or handwaved for the sake of a predetermined narrative, which means nobody playing (including the DM) knows how things are going to end up. This makes for a viewing experience that is a cross between dramedy improv and live sports; the cast plays out long scenes of conversation, but their characters could also permanently die at any time, adding to the high stakes. It’s also totally unedited, which accounts for the absurdly long runtime. 

If any of that isn’t for you, there are a lot of great D&D podcasts out there (often labeled “actual play”) that run the gamut from silly with minimal rules to mechanically involved but edited down. It’s a cool time to get into D&D!

Okay, so how exactly do these characters do their thing?

One of the more confusing aspects for new viewers of the second campaign of Critical Role is that they’re using a fair amount of content that’s not in the baseline ruleset - some character races and classes are coming from expansion content, and some are from Matt Mercer (the DM’s) homebrew. Here’s a quick summary of what each character has going on at the start of the campaign, moving from left to right in the first episode’s seating arrangement.

Fjord (played by Travis Willingham)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Travis is the big guy who looks like he could throw a football real far. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice has a Texas twang.

Fjord is a half-orc warlock. A half-orc typically has green skin and tusks but otherwise looks fairly close to a garden-variety human. Warlocks are magic-users who gained their abilities from a bargain with a mysterious (generally somewhat malevolent) being of great power. Mechanically, they rely a lot on what are called cantrips (spells that can be cast an unlimited number of times a day) since the number of more powerful spells at their disposal is very limited. However, unlike most other casters that have to get a full night’s sleep to regain their stronger spells, warlocks just have to rest for an hour or so and they’re good to go. More specifically, Fjord is a hexblade warlock. Hexblades are warlocks who have a particularly strong bond with their weapon of choice and can summon it from nothing.

Beauregard (played by Marisha Ray)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Marisha is the woman who often perches on her chair like she’s about to take flight. If you’re listening to the podcast, her character voice is a bit gruff with a sarcastic drawl.

Beau is a human monk. Both humans in this campaign use a variant version of human that allows them to pick a feat at the start of the campaign: Beau has some extra expertise in investigative and athletic abilities. Monks are preternaturally powerful martial artists; what some classes do with magic, they do with unarmed combat. Mechanically, they rely on an ability called ki points, which are a stockpile of points that can be used for extra-powerful abilities such as being able to hit extra times on an attack or being able to stun an enemy. More specifically, Beau is a Way of the Cobalt Soul monk, which is a homebrew from Matt and means she’s essentially a warrior-monk-librarian whose key abilities center around rooting out useful information.

Caleb (played by Liam O’Brien)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Liam is the guy who perpetually looks like he’s about to launch into a Shakespearean monologue. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice is soft with a German accent.

Caleb is a human wizard. His variant human feat gives him an eidetic memory and the ability to always know what time it is. Wizards are magic-users who got to where they are with careful study; Caleb has to keep track of his spells by transcribing them into a spellbook. He also has a familiar in the form of the cat Frumpkin, although Frumpkin can also change forms. Mechanically, wizards can pick up spells from a lot of different sources to learn them, but again, the cost in time and materials of transcribing them into a spellbook can be substantial. More specifically, Caleb is a transmutation wizard, which means his wizardry focuses around the act of transforming one thing into another.

Nott (played by Sam Riegel)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Sam is the guy with an alarmingly big smile and a comically oversized flask. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice is high-pitched with varying levels of Cockney accent.

Nott is a goblin rogue. Goblins are small and quick, and may or may not be well-received depending on the location. Rogues are sneaky individuals who do best when striking from the shadows or scouting ahead to investigate potential traps and unlock doors. Mechanically, they get a huge bonus in combat if they attack when unseen or when an opponent is distracted by an ally. They’re also very good at avoiding attacks and at hiding from view. More specifically, Nott is an arcane trickster rogue, which means she also dabbles in magic related to illusions and enchantment.

Jester (played by Laura Bailey)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Laura is the one who may or may not be instigating every round of giggles at accidental innuendo. If you’re listening to the podcast, her character voice is bubbly with an Eastern European accent.

Jester is a tiefling cleric. Tieflings essentially look like brightly-colored humans (Jester has blue skin) with horns and a tail; they’re the result of infernal ancestry and also may or may not be well-received. Clerics are magic-users who derive their power from the blessing of a deity or other extremely powerful entity. Jester’s divine patron is the Traveler, a mysterious trickster with an affinity for phallic graffiti. Mechanically, clerics have a massive stable of spells from which they can choose a subset every morning; their abilities range from healing wounds to causing devastating harm. More specifically, Jester is a trickery domain cleric, which means her spells have a strong focus on illusions and pranks.

Mollymauk (played by Taliesin Jaffe)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Taliesin is the one who looks like he may be some sort of ancient fey creature who’s come to our realm to play D&D. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice has an Irish accent of varying intensity.

Molly is a tiefling blood hunter with purple skin. Blood hunters are a custom class Matt created that can use their own blood (in a process called hemocraft) to augment their combat abilities. Mechanically, blood hunters are high-risk high-reward; they can perform devastatingly brutal attacks, but often only at the cost of shedding some of their own blood to do so. More specifically, Molly is an Order of the Ghostslayer blood hunter, which means he’s got an affinity for things relating to the moment of death.

Yasha (played by Ashley Johnson)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Ashley is the one who isn’t around for a little bit (she was splitting her time with a TV show on the opposite coast) and then SHE’S BACK AND I’M STILL SO HAPPY ABOUT THAT. If you’re listening to the podcast, her character voice is soft with a faint Scandinavian accent.

Yasha is an aasimar barbarian. Aasimar are the semi-divine counterpart to tieflings, although Yasha is a fallen aasimar with a fairly different aesthetic. Barbarians use their rage to enhance their already fierce battle prowess. Mechanically, barbarians in a rage take less damage and deal more damage, and also embrace a high-risk high-reward playstyle as tanks in the middle of the fray. More specifically, Yasha is a Path of the Zealot barbarian, which means her battle rages are fueled by the influence of a divine being.

Interested in watching from the start of campaign 2? The show has a YouTube channel with each episode posted in its entirety, and all episodes are also available in podcast form (they did jump channels partway through, but you can usually find a playlist that has them all). If you want to delve into campaign 1, I highly recommend it, but be aware that they’re still figuring out tech stuff and you’re also jumping in partway through the game they started years earlier at home. Campaign 2 starts 20 years after campaign 1 on a different continent of the same world, and is intended to be an appropriate jumping-on point for new viewers.

Interested in catching up faster so you can watch live with friends? Search Critical Recap for a series of recap videos on YouTube, which then becomes a series of written summaries on the CritRole website after episode 88. There are also great summaries on the Wiki, and many people have put together catch-up guides for new viewers. 

There’s A LOT of content out there. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for skimming the early stuff if you want to get in on the new episodes sooner. <3

Episodes air at 7 PM Pacific every Thursday on Critical Role’s Twitch and YouTube channels; the VOD goes up for free on YouTube the Monday after. In the last few months, the cast has been distanced at the studio (all on separate cameras) and episodes have been pre-recorded several weeks in advance; normally, the show is streamed live and everyone is around the same table.

Hope that helps! If you have any questions, let me know. This is a fun show to get into, and a great all-consuming massive body of entertainment if you have the time for it.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Nine

chapter eight - Chapter Nine: The Soldier and the Mutant - chapter ten

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n deals with the new knowledge about who her father truly was and receives a surprise visitor.

Warnings: angst, fluff, fluff, FLUFF, my gosh it’s nearly suffocating how much fluff, language, one allusion to sex, mentions of suicide, mentions of torture

Word Count: 10.1k 

A/N: I’m just gonna let this one speak for itself, thanks for being so patient 😉 

----

“HYDRA?” 

“HYDRA…” I sighed.

Melanie and I were sat on her front porch, coffee cups in hand and revelations on our lips. I’d been home for two days and the shock of finding out about my father’s longstanding lie, while still fresh, was morphing into numbness. Being his daughter too, Mel needed to know the truth as well.

“This guy’s gotta be lying,” my sister waved a hand in front of her, “He has to be, he’s a criminal a-and he’s crazy.” “He’s not lying, Mels,” I held my head in my hand with my elbow resting on my chair, “I went online and scoured the internet, Dad’s name was listed in the HYDRA files leaked ten years ago.”

Mel leaned forward in her seat and hung her head, bracing her weight on her knees. My sister had always been a rock, unshakable even in the face of the worst circumstances. Even though she was keeping it together for my sake, I could see the well of emotions that would spring up once I was gone. “I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, shaking her head softly, “But looking back, it makes so much sense.” I furrowed my brows at her, “You wanna spell this one out for me?”

“Think about it,” she turned in her seat to face me, “Dad was wracked with guilt every day since he came home from the,” she set her mug down on the coffee table and made air quotes, “‘service.’ Nightmares and flashbacks and that awful depression…I mean, the man tore himself apart for what he’d done when he wasn’t passed out from drinking. He’d have had to do some pretty nasty things to feel that much guilt.” “Yeah, well, he should have felt guilty,” I grumbled, staring down at the coffee to hide the tears slowly forming in my eyes, “He hurt innocent people.”

“Wow…” she said quietly.

I sat forward in my seat, “Mom can never find about this, the shock could kill her. And as much as I feel like she should know who she was married to, I don’t think I can destroy another person’s image of Dad.” “No, I don’t think we should tell her either,” Mel agreed, taking a sip from her coffee, “I’m sorry enough that you had to find out. Wait,” she slapped a hand over my arm, “Does Bucky know? You said you and Sam were working with him.” I had done my best to put Bucky out of my mind for the past two days, failing spectacularly. I had gotten so used to him being by my side the past week that once he was gone, it felt like something was missing. Never mind the way I’d left him, those blue eyes begging me not to shut him out, the very same thing I’d asked him not to do. I had to remind myself at least ten times a day that removing myself from his life was for his good. 

“Yeah, he knows,” I looked back down at my lap, squeezing the coffee mug so tight, I thought it might shatter. Mel threw her hands out to their sides, “And?” 

“And he knows,” I replied, knowing that wouldn’t be a good enough answer for her. “So this guy finds out that our dad tortured him for years and he’s been running around Europe with his daughter and he had no reaction? What are you not telling me?” “Mel, what do you want me to say?” I snapped my head up, “He was there when Zemo told me and he’s not with me now, there’s nothing more to tell…"

I may have been a mutant, but sometimes I wished I’d have gotten my sister’s detective skills instead. She could take one look at a person and go Sherlock Holmes on their ass before they knew what hit them. It was one of the reasons she’d made such a good psychologist before becoming a stay-at-home mom.

Mel inhaled sharply and her eyes widened, “Oh my gosh, do you-“ “Don’t say it,” I held up a hand and forcefully pressed my eyes shut, a few teardrops squeezing out onto my eyelashes, “Please don’t say it.” As requested, she fell silent, her hand slipping onto my shoulder and rubbing small circles. I trained my eyes ahead of me, focusing on the last remnants of the morning’s sunrise. I’d always loved getting up early enough to watch the light spread across the sky, giving me hope that whatever pain I was feeling was only temporary. I found no such comfort gazing at the spectacle in my current state.

“It’s better this way,” I said, not able to look at her lest she see my contradictory eyes, “Trust me.” “Well,” Mel sighed loudly, “You’re the one that knows the guy…Just promise me one thing?” “Hmm?” She pulled one of my hands out of the death grip I had on my cup and took it into one of hers, “This is huge news, life-shattering, and we’re allowed to process it however we need to. But I see that look in your eyes, none of this is on you. Don’t blame yourself for what Dad did to him.” And if Mel had spent the time I had with Bucky, watched him in the bar in Madripoor, been in the therapy session with him, seen his reaction to losing his arm in Riga, I knew she’d feel different. I had a front row seat to Bucky’s PTSD and my father had been the ringleader. How could I not feel a little responsible? ——

Sam, Sarah and I had talked the boat situation over the morning before. The offer that Sarah had received from the guy who had been interested before Sam returned home had fallen through, he’d cited the reason as that it would take more money to fix than it was worth. Ever the hero, Sam had phoned everyone in the community who had known his parents and called in as many favors as he could. As I pulled up to the docks, ready to roll up my sleeves and begin working, I was delightfully surprised at how many people had responded. There were at least a dozen sets of helping hands waiting to work. It was moments like these that reminded me how lucky I was to live in such a close knit community.

I weaved through people, greeting and thanking everyone for coming out as I made my way to the boat. “Black Falcon to the rescue again, huh?” I called out to Sam as I climbed aboard, he was standing at the bow of the ship next to somebody whose back was turned to me. “You know it,” Sam called back, turning around and facing me, along with the man who he’d been in conversation with. 

It was Bucky.

My heart stopped and I froze in my tracks, adrenaline shooting through my veins. Our eyes met across the deck and we may as well have been back in Sokovia. There was the same pain threaded through his ocean blue eyes only enhanced by the fear reflecting in mine. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at once, but knew which instinct needed to be listened to. 

I looked to Sam and faked a hopefully convincing smile, “I’ll be below deck.” Hurriedly, I hauled my ass across the deck and raced down the steps. My hands flew to cover my nose and mouth as my breathing increased. He was here, he couldn’t be here, why was he here? Any progress I’d made, however small, in trying to put Bucky to rest had been revived the second I saw his face. 

“You wanna explain what that was?” I looked up to see Sam stepping off the final stair and crossing his arms in front of me, “One day you’re friends and the next you bolt outta the room when you see the guy?” “Just,” I strained, stopping to take as soothing a breath as I was capable of and straightening my posture, “Keep me where he isn’t.” Sam sighed, reading me all too well, “Y/n, if this is about your dad, there’s noth-“ “Now what needs to be done down here?” I interrupted, placing my hands on my hips and hoping that if I projected confidence, I’d start to feel it. 

“Fine,” Sam conceded to my wishes and gestured to the engine we were standing next to, “Check the zincs. If you need to replace ‘em, we’ll have to run down to Joe’s. And just so you know,” he stood at the steps and pointed between me and where Bucky most likely stood above us, “I don’t agree with this.” I shook my head to shake myself out of the moment as he left me to my work, blissfully hidden from the person I wanted to be with most. 

——

I had never experienced a more uncomfortable day.

For the entire morning and afternoon, it was like switching a light on and off. If Bucky came below deck to fix something, I filed out as quick as I could to work above deck. We didn’t interact more than when we passed each other once in a while, each brush of shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through me. Sam had been no help either, he’d prevented me from making the necessary run to the hardware store or helping Sarah with lunch. He was determined to try and quarantine me and Bucky on the boat, most likely in hopes that my resolve would weaken. No matter how much it was killing me, I kept my distance and my head down as we made repairs in awkward silence.

When the sun began to set over the waters and there was nothing left to be done for the day, I carefully made my way up the stairs and listened for voices. When I heard none close by, I took quick steps across the deck and hopped off the boat onto the dock. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Bucky, who was stealthy enough to sneak up on anyone, was behind me and kept on my path to the outdoor kitchen area Sarah was closing up. “Good day?” I asked, grabbing an extra rag to try and get the oil off my hands from working on the engine.

“Better than you,” she retorted, “You’ve had that sour look on your face since you got here.” “Just,” I sighed and stopped my rigorous rubbing for a second, “Still thinking about everything…” Stopping her cleaning while I resumed mine, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head against mine. Out of Sam, Melanie, myself and her, Sarah was the most removed from the situation. My dad hadn’t interacted much with the Wilsons, he hadn’t interacted with hardly anyone outside of his family, so Sarah didn’t have many memories with him nor had she fought HYDRA. It was actually nice to be around someone who didn’t have his dirty deeds bouncing around their head like an old school Microsoft screensaver.

“You,” she pressed a kiss to the side of my head, “Are one of the best human beings I know and nothing can change that, not even this.” Starting the argument that this revelation did in fact change a lot of things would be useless, I knew better than to try and prove Sarah wrong. I simply patted her arm and leaned into her embrace, taking the comfort I could get even if I didn’t necessarily deserve it. 

“By the way,” she said as she unwrapped her arms, “Sam invited Bucky to stay the night.” My stomach dropped, “WHAT?” “He was gonna go find a hotel room but that’s ridiculous when he can just crash on the couch,” Sarah shrugged, wiping off the counter once again. “Why?” I pressed my hands to my mouth in a praying position, “Why could you not be an angel who has to help everybody, just this once?”

Sarah turned to face me, placing on hand on her hip, “The guy saved your ass from being killed and ran you to the hospital,” I opened my mouth to ask her how she knew that, she held up a finger to me, “Sam told me all about Riga. It’s the least we can do for him. And don’t even think about running to Mel’s place for the night, you promised the boys you’d take them to school tomorrow morning.” I stood there, nervously wringing the cloth through my hands as Sarah walked away to finish up another task before night fell. All my efforts to keep away from Bucky were failing and it wasn’t due to anything on my part. How was I supposed to protect him if we were constantly around each other? As I looked out to the deck of the boat, I could see Sam and Bucky had winded up there drinking beers to celebrate their long day of work. It was a scene that only days ago, I could have easily slipped into. I didn’t just miss Bucky, I missed the dynamic the three of us had grown to have. Sam would have pressed a beer into my hand and lightheartedly elbowed me, I’d have settled down next to Bucky whose hand would have naturally drifted to the small of my back…It would have been a perfect end to the day. Instead, I was cursing my father for ever having dipped a toe in HYDRA’s pool, his decision had ruined my life.

——

I had two vendettas, one with Sam for inviting Bucky to stay and one with my quickly drying throat that begged for water. 

Laying in bed with my pillow smashed across my face, I peeked one eye out to check my alarm clock. 1:29AM. I’d laid in the same position for an hour, hoping that sleep took me over and my thirst would die till the morning. The family had been asleep for hours and with the amount of work Sam and him did, Bucky should have been passed out too. If I pulled it off just right, I could sneak downstairs to grab a bottle of water and get out before he ever stirred. Waking an ex-assassin wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I tiptoed out of my room, mindful of the creaking door as I passed AJ and Cass’ bedroom. Once I got to the stairs, I chose a silent approach and used my energy to float my way down the steps. I continued doing so through the kitchen, sneaking a peek over to the couch to see Bucky sound asleep. I opened up the fridge quietly and reached in blindly, feeling around till I hit a bottle and pulling it out. Tucking the bottle under my arm, I placed my hands back at my side and began to let the energy lift me.

“You do know I can hear you, right?” The familiar voice startled me, causing me to absorb the energy back into my palms quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration before turning to see Bucky, laying in the same position I’d found him in with his lids still shut. “Forgot,” I said, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in my voice, “Super soldier.” 

Flipping the blanket Sarah had given to him off his body, he swung his long legs off the couch and sat up to face me. It truly wasn’t fair how good he looked even in the middle of the night, the moonlight coming through the windows and highlighting his silhouette. Admiring his profile was the only thing making the uncomfortable silence semi-bearable. 

“We need to talk,” he started. “We really don’t,” I hurriedly replied, starting to rotate my body to flee. Bucky stood up, the couch creaking in relief as he did, “Yes, we do. You left so fast the other day I couldn’t get two words in.” “Because you didn’t need to,” I said from my place in the kitchen, “There’s nothing you can say to make any of this better and you shouldn’t. In fact, you should hate me.” He raised a tired eyebrow, “Hate you?” 

“Yes,” I said, a little louder, “Hate me for what my father did to you, hate me for being his daughter. I hate me right now, I don’t understand why you don’t.” “Because there’s nothing to hate,” Bucky chuckled softly, “You of all people have given me the least to hate.” “Bucky, of all people you should hate me the most,” I said firmly, setting the forgotten bottle on the counter, “We travel the world all week and then you find out I’m the daughter of the man whose job was to hook you up to machines an-and torture you all day. That’s the man who I drew pictures of and kissed every night before bed and thought was the greatest person to ever walk the fucking planet,” I spread my arms out to accentuate the point, “That man is one of the reasons for all that pain seeping out of you. And guess what? I’m him. I’m literally his flesh and blood! So go ahead, hate me! You have every right to, and it would make this all so much easier if you did.” “Make what easier? Ignoring each other?” Bucky crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I don’t want to do that.” I knew he wasn’t going to let it go, I had only one decent shot at ending the conversation and I needed to take it, even if it broke my heart. “Well, it’s what I want,” I picked up the bottle again, trying to pretend I was as confidant in my decision to walk away as my words were.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Bucky said, the tiniest smirk appearing on his lips, something I always found cute but now found annoying. 

It may have been the biggest lie I’d ever told in my entire life, but it was also truth. I wanted to leave Bucky before he inevitably left me. “No, it’s not,” I said, my voice threatening to tremble as I used it. “You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that?” I hadn’t dared to make too much contact with those wild eyes that I’d fallen for, I’d only give in all the quicker and let his grace draw me straight into his arms. He’d called my bluff, knowing that lying to him was easy when I didn’t actually have to see him and that I couldn’t continue the charade if that changed. As I dragged my eyes up to meet his, the tears I’d been fighting back began to come forward. He looked broken and whole at the sight of me, exactly how I felt.

“What do you want me to say, Bucky?” I whispered, my throat closing with emotion.

“I want you to tell me, to my face,” he paused, drawing a shallow breath, “That I’m crazy and that I read every signal wrong.” It would have been less painful if he’d sucker punched me with his left hand, I’d have actually preferred it. It had taken everything in me to tell just one lie, I couldn’t do it again to either one of us. But I also couldn’t succumb to my feelings. “Bucky…” I shakily began, clenching my fists at their sides.

“Because you’ve been living in my head pretty much since the minute I met you, and I don’t wanna sweep this week under the rug like it was nothing,” Bucky made a sweeping motion with his hand, “I don’t think I can.” “Bucky, we can’t…I can’t do that to you.” “Do what?” he asked confusedly, squinting his eyes as if he couldn’t see the issue. “I don’t want to hurt you!” I snapped, allowing the tears to break free of their restraints and shed themselves, “There’s going to come a day where every memory of what he put you through is going to be blamed on me and I can’t wait for the day where you wake up and look at me like I’m the monster my father was. I can’t have a little of you, Bucky, and then lose you entirely.” My cheeks were wet with my guilt, I made no effort to dry them or cease their streams. I stood there on the edge of where the kitchen met the living room staring at the man who held my heart, trying to pry it from his hands to no avail. Bucky looked just as surprised by the revelation as I’d been when it flew from my lips without any opposition from my head. 

“What did you say to me in Riga?” he whispered, his voice raising slightly to try and emphasize the point he was about to make, “’I don’t believe that any part of you is capable of me?’ ‘That’s not who you really are?’” he echoed my sentiments from days ago, “You’re not him. If I believed there was any of him in you, I wouldn’t be standing here begging you to stop beating yourself up about this.” He took a step forward, waiting to see if I walked away but I was too focused on him to think about running. He continued coming forward, “Y/n, I can’t walk away from this like you mean nothing to me. You’re the first person I’ve met that sees me as Bucky Barnes before anything else. I gave you every reason to write me off and you didn’t give up on me,” he paused, swallowing harshly as he stopped in front of me, “When I’m with you, I feel safe for the first time in a long time. There’s never gonna come a day where I stop lookin’ at you like you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

There were mere inches left between us, the words I had been dying to hear were now mine for the taking and I was too paralyzed with shock to react. Of course he had to come and hit me with my own affirmations, making perfect sense. The side of my mind that believed I didn’t deserve this happiness was screaming that these feelings would fade, that my father’s sins would always be at the forefront of us. The other side that wanted nothing more than to reach out and close the distance between us was telling me to believe him and let myself be cared for, something I’d always believed I was too broken for. And somehow they were both drowned out by the excitement I felt with Bucky in such close proximity, staring down at me with those cerulean pools, infused with the darkness that sent a chill down my spine. There was a palpable change in the air, from emotional to the great and grand something we finally near naming. Every part of me wanted to reach out and take him for for myself, to kiss him and pull him so close that there was no telling where I began and he ended. If there was a chance for me to back out, it was now. I could run to my room, to my car, anywhere that he wasn’t. But at the end of the day, that wasn’t what I wanted. I could either let myself be held captive by crimes I’d never committed, or I could dedicate myself to loving the man who the universe had somehow tied me to long ago. 

“Tell me to stop,” Bucky said, his voice hitting that low timbre that made goosebumps break out across my skin. 

I couldn’t deny either one of us any longer.

Bucky took a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine as I backed to accommodate him and his plans. A small gasp left me as my back hit the kitchen wall, my hands reaching back to press against it to try and find purchase on something. There was now only a breath’s width of space left between Bucky and I, our shared air growing more and more heated as we bathed in the anticipation of the moment. His eyes flicked between my y/e/c ones and my lips, looking for any signs of hesitation that didn’t exist. He placed a finger under my chin to tilt my head to his liking, pausing to take in the sight of my tear streaked face in the last seconds before we let loose the storm that had been brewing inside us both. I took the time to admire the wonder on his face, the two of us his newest discovery in a world he had long been asleep to.

He leaned in and our lips finally touched, euphorically.

I found myself unable to move, overwhelmed by the sensation I’d wanted to feel since our dance in Madripoor. Bucky didn’t overstep his bounds, he kept our mouths softly connected as we absorbed each other. When he disconnected our lips, whether to repeat the act or pull away, my body snapped into action and my hands flew to his neck, pulling him back down to me. Our lips didn’t fight for dominance so much as they did try and take in as much of each other as they could. Bucky’s hand slipped from my chin and both fell to my hips, pulling me flush against his body. On his tongue, I could taste the remnants of however many beers he’d shared with Sam, they’d stayed on the boat till the first evening stars started to appear. The scent of him, freshly showered after a long day of work, invaded my senses and spurred me on further, my hands moving to fist the back of his blue henley. With our kisses becoming more fervent, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around my hips and lifted me so effortlessly, it only made the moment more heated. I wound my legs around his waist and let him carry me to wherever he desired, him easily supporting my weight and never disconnecting our lips as he fell to the couch. My hands snaked up his back to thread themselves through the short brown locks, causing him to pull away with a soft moan before diving back into my mouth. His flesh hand took hold of the back of my head and pushed me further into the kiss, trying to taste as much of me as he could. This. This was what I had been craving since the moment I’d realized I was far more starved of Bucky’s touch than I’d thought I’d been. The delightful friction our bodies created, the pressure of our lips dancing together, the knowledge that I was just as much his as he was mine. No more questioning, no more stolen moments wondering what could have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. This was whole and perfect and right. 

Eventually, the second long breaks we took for became insufficient and we needed to part for longer. Bucky looked gorgeously spent, his half lidded eyes following me, his lips deliciously swollen and his hair messed up from where my hands had been. I smiled as I dragged my hands to his cheek and ran my thumb over his plump lower lip, bringing a lopsided grin to his face. There was a joy I hadn’t seen him express yet and my stomach flipped knowing that I was the one to bring it in him.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of our passion,  “Please.” In my palms, I held one of the world’s most deadly men, someone whose reputation had consisted of how ruthless a killer he’d once been. And here he was, warm and soft and begging me not to go. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, delighting in how his eyes brightened at hearing my words. Contrasting the intensity of the minutes before, I leaned in and brushed my lips against Bucky’s with as little pressure as I could. He chased them the second I pulled away, eliciting a giggle out of me that he swallowed, kissing me so lovingly it almost broke my heart. He inhaled me like I was oxygen and he’d been deprived far too long. It didn’t occur to me that there was a chance I was his first kiss since before he shipped out in the ’40’s. “I don’t wanna stop,” he mumbled against my lips. “Then don’t,” I replied, breathing in his soft exhales, “We’ll stay up all night doing this.” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from my mouth to turn his head and press tender kisses to the palm I’d been cradling his cheek in. He tugged me closer then, my hands winding around his shoulders and his face burying itself in my neck. My laugh at the sensation of his scruff quickly morphed to a moan as he planted drawn out kisses against every inch of the bruises our encounter with Walker in Riga had left me with. I extended my neck to give him better access, feeling his lips twist in a wicked grin as his ministrations caused my breathing to quicken. “Okay, if you keep doing this,” I gasped, trying to steady my voice, “We’re gonna be up all night doing something else.” He pecked the column of my neck once more before pulling his head out and facing me, still smiling. I pressed my forehead to his and he nuzzled his nose against mine, still desperate to keep any contact he could. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Bucky confessed, rubbing his metal hand up and down my back, “Thought about it in Riga, when we were fighting, in the alleyway…”

“Me too,” I agreed, grinning uncontrollably, “But you know why I’m glad it didn’t happen till now?” Bucky hummed questioningly, “Because this is the longest we’ve been together without someone interrupting us.”

Bucky chortled loud enough for me to feel the need to cover his mouth, causing me to laugh myself. I never thought that there would come a day where the two of us would be sitting on my couch in the middle of the night, as lighthearted as could be. This was a slice of heaven after all that we’d been through. “Do you believe me now when I say my opinion of you is never gonna change?” Bucky asked. Had he not proven to me that it was true, I wouldn’t have believed it. I’d have punished the both of us for the rest of my life. “As long as you believe me when I say that I know you’ll never hurt me.” I knew that there was so many layers to his pain, most that I would never understand, but he couldn’t keep a part of himself hidden forever. If we were going to do this, we were going do it wholeheartedly, taking the best and the worst parts of each other. The unlovable would never go unloved as long as we were together.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, tightening the arm around my waist and bringing the other to my face, “Okay.” He pulled me down to press his lips to each of my cheeks, landing one last one to my mouth.

Our kisses became longer and softer, signaling that though we were both eager to explore this new territory, exhaustion was running the show. We eventually slowed down to where Bucky’s face rested in the juncture where my neck met my shoulder while my head rested against his, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hand running through his hair. My lips laid featherlight kisses against his temple every few minutes, taking advantage of the fact that I could do so freely now. I could feel his hot breath hit my skin at such a leisurely pace that if it hadn’t have been for his metal thumb rubbing my waist every once in a while, I’d have thought he’d fallen asleep. Eventually, when my eyelids began to shut against my will, Bucky shifted on the couch to lay both of us down. I settled naturally on top of him, my head against his chest and a hand resting on each of his broad shoulders. Just when I thought in my drowsy haze that nothing could make the moment any more perfect, Bucky pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of my head and tightened his arms around my back, securing my body to his.

This was peace.

This was right.

This was what we deserved.

——

At the sound of hushed voices and grunts, my eyes slowly opened. I blinked a few times and made out the sight of my nephews, AJ throwing punches and Cass deflecting them with the shield that had laid in the hallway for days. After days spent witnessing some of the worst the world had to offer, this was the purity that I needed to see.

“Bucky…” I whispered, he inhaled sharply as he awoke with one arm slung over my waist and the other hung over the edge of the couch. I tapped his chest and pointed to my nephews, still oblivious to our presence.

“Hey,” Bucky called, his morning voice rougher than it was the rest of the day. 

The boys jumped at the sound, Cass shoving the shield back in its case and him and AJ running as soon as it hit the ground with mischievous smiles on their faces. I laughed softly, looking up to see Bucky lazily smiling. I had the best view in the world, close enough to see the lines that drew his grin up, so different from the frowning ones I was so used to seeing. When he tilted his head down and our eyes met, his smile made no effort to lessen itself.

“Morning,” he said, bringing a hand up to stroke the top of my head.

“Morning,” I replied, shimmying up his body and taking hold of his cheeks, our lips meeting in early morning bliss, “We’re in deep shit.” “Why’s that?” he asked.

“The boys can’t keep a secret to save their lives,” I chuckled, “So you need to enjoy your last day alive because Sam is going to kill you.” Bucky wrinkled his nose as he laughed, “Thanks for the warning.” I dropped my head back to his chest, picking up one of his dog tags in my hand and reading his name pressed in the metal. I’d never been a big believer in fate, but as I rubbed a thumb over the necklace I was reminded that Bucky and I should have never met. He should have been long gone by now, Captain America’s childhood friend who met a tragic end before he could see the war won. He wasn’t supposed to be here, warming my body with his and pressing the sweetest kisses I’d ever known to my skin. Our being together defied time itself.

“Seeing them, the boys…” Bucky began, still stroking my hair, “I think I get what you and Sam were talking about back in Maryland.”

I rested my chin on his pec to see him, his gaze focused on the ceiling in deep thought. “Steve giving him the shield…It’s not the same at all.”

I shook my head, sadly, giving confirmation to his revelation. I didn’t begrudge him for not understanding right away, unless you were in Sam’s shoes you could only have so much of an understanding. The unrelenting way that Bucky had pushed him was what had caused me to call him out on several occasions. But if the week we’d had with our confrontation with the police, meeting Isaiah and coming to Delacroix had finally shown him the flaw in his thinking, I was glad. “I think you should talk to him,” I suggested. He scoffed, “I think I owe him a lot more than that.

“Well, he’s probably already out on the boat. And I,” I groaned as I sat up, straddling Bucky’s hips, “Promised the boys that I’d take them to school so we both need to get up.” Bucky made a similar sound as he swung his legs over the couch, pivoting my body so that we were in a similar position we’d been in in the middle of the night. He took my face in his hand and gave a kiss so long, I knew I’d feel the ghost of his lips until the next time I was able to feel the real thing. To think just hours before I’d been hellbent on convincing him that we couldn’t allow ourselves to act on our feelings. Here I was now struggling to let go of him to spend an hour apart at most. 

The giggling on the other side of the wall broke the spell though.

Bucky and I broke apart with a shared smile. “See you in a bit,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing off of him to disappear around the corner.

After dressing for the day, I corralled the boys into my car. I could practically hear their predictable thoughts and feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I shut my door. “There’s donuts with both your names on them if you promise not to tell Uncle Sam what you saw this morning.”

A resounding chorus of enthusiastic ‘okays’ reminded me that I was the best aunt in the world who made the worst parenting decisions. 

——

By nothing short of a miracle, Bucky was still alive when I returned.

We worked on the boat with familiar stolen glances and secret smirks when Sam had his back turned. At some point Sarah kicked the two of them off the boat for attempting to repair the water pump, something she’d been repairing and Bucky and I were forced to separate. As the two men departed the dock, he turned around to catch one last look at me and flashed the smile I’d seen more of in the last twelve hours than I had all week. 

“You wanna tell me what changed from last night?” Sarah’s voice broke me out of the daze I was in.

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been staring at that man with googly eyes all day,” she climbed aboard the boat, “You’re also lucky that our brother is clueless.” 

I rolled my eyes and bumped my hip against hers, “Freakin’ mom vision, can’t get anything past you.” “I’m just glad you got out of your own way, he seems like a good guy,” Sarah smiled, “He’s also fine as hell, if you haven’t noticed. If you wouldn’t have gone for it, I might have.” Our loud laughter mixed together as I whacked her with the towel I’d been using to clean an oil stain off of the boat.

Later that day, after finishing helping my sister with a few repairs we could get done without interruptions from Sam and Bucky, I wandered to our backyard to behold a sight I never thought I’d see. Sam was throwing the shield around while Bucky stood beside him. I stopped at the side of the house to watch, the Vibranium bouncing off of training pads from our garage that were strapped to the tree. Since Sam had brought the shield home six months ago, I’d never seen him do more than pick it up and look at it every once in a while. He’d kept it stored away in his bedroom in its casing, AJ and Cass hadn’t even seen it until he’d left it in the hall after returning from Maryland. To see him wielding it now felt…right. He looked just as natural with it as Steve had. Bucky had made a 180 as well, he looked content watching Sam as he caught the shield in its return journey back to them. If I hadn’t watched them bicker like schoolchildren for the better portion of the week, I’d have mistaken them for friends. “Are you telling me that you two could’ve man-hugged it out back in that interrogation room?” I shouted as I watched them clasp hands and pull each other in, “Coulda spared yourselves a lot of discomfort.”

They both laughed and turned to face me, in an effort to save time as I made my way out to where they stood. “So what’s new?” I asked with a knowing smile, eyeing Sam as he held the shield at his side

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, “And a little bit of everything.”

I chuckled before my eyes inevitably found Bucky’s, who was already waiting for me with an outstretched palm. “Can I talk to you a minute?” “Yeah,” I reached out and intwined our fingers. “Whoa! Wait, wait, wait,” Sam boomed, gesturing to our locked hands, “What the hell is this?”

“Something new,” I shrugged, looking up and matching Bucky’s smile.

Sam groaned in disgust, “You’ve been here twenty four hours, Barnes, you couldn’t’ve kept your hands off my sister? I-I can’t even look at this, it’s sickening, ugh…” he turned his back to us and began his walk back to the house, spinning around quickly and stuttering, “You know what? I-“ he closed his mouth and shook his head, “Uh-uh, nope, can’t do it.” Bucky and I both snorted as we watched him leave, voicing his displeasure to himself. I looked down and noticed the packed duffle bag that rested at Bucky’s feet, “I get the feeling there’s something you need to tell me?” He sighed, reaching blindly to weave his fingers with my other hand’s set. “There’s something I gotta go do. A couple somethings actually. I talked to Sam, or at least he talked to me,” one corner of his mouth quirked up, “This whole making amends thing, I haven’t been doing the greatest job of it. There’s too many names in that book that don’t have closure about what happened to someone they loved. If I stand a chance at putting what happened in the past, I gotta go ‘do the work’.”

I rubbed my thumb over his smooth metal knuckle, staring down at the space between us. “Yeah, you do,” I looked up at him, “Recovery sucks, there’s no sophisticated way of putting it. Sam and I have both seen the ugly side of it. But you owe it to yourself to work as hard as you can for your freedom, as difficult as it can be sometimes.” Bucky leaned down to press his forehead against mine. “If it hadn’t’ve been for you, I might not have believed that. I wanna get better for you too, to try and be the man you deserve.”

I hummed and bit down on my bottom lip, smiling widely. “So…you kinda like me.” “Yeah,” Bucky chuckled softly, “Just a little bit.”

The warmth I felt radiating through me, brought on by nothing more than a touch of our hands and a shared smile powered me in a way my energy never could. “Go,” I said after a few seconds of silence, “Do whatever you need to do. I think there’s some things here that I need to take care of myself.” Bucky pulled back to look my face over as if to commit every inch to his memory before holding the back of my head and pressing a kiss to my lips. Perhaps it was cruel that I had just gotten him and now had to let him go for an undetermined period of time. But his recovery meant more to me than any amount of heart pounding touches or earth shattering kisses he could give. If we ever had a shot of making it, we needed to go to our separate corners and heal.

I hesitantly broke away from his lips first, rubbing mine together after to memorize the taste he’d left. “If I don’t let you go now, I won’t be able to…” “It won’t be forever,” he shook his head, bumping his nose against mine, “Sam’s gonna call me if he gets a lead on Karli.” Rather than keep him longer with my insecurities about jumping back into hero work now knowing who my father had truly been, I decided that dealing with that was for my personal healing. I reached my arms up to wind around his neck, his finding their new home around my waist and for a split second in time, nothing else mattered. There was just me, Bucky and the future I hoped we had ahead of us. I memorized the feel of him, the rise and fall of his chest against mine, his soft hair between my fingers, the scratch of his stubble against my neck. I hadn’t had time to daydream about Bucky since recognizing my feelings for him but even if I had, they’d have never done the real thing near justice.

“Stay safe, Sergeant,” I said, pulling back to peck his lips one last time and releasing him from my hold.

Bucky picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving my hand one more squeeze and holding it as he started to walk backwards. Once we reached a point where the only way to keep the contact was to follow him, we let go with a brush of our fingers till I was only holding air. With a final shared look, he turned his back to me and started down the dirt path that would lead him from our corner of Louisiana to the rest of the world. In so many ways I felt as if we’d traveled back to 1943 when he’d shipped out for England. I was sending him off to another war, this time battling his own past. Above any other feeling I felt for Bucky, the one that topped the list was belief. I believed in him more than he believed in himself and I wanted that to change. He could do it and once he did, there was no telling just how happy we could be.

But I in turn had to deal with my own demons.

——

While I wish I could have said I had a plan like Bucky’s, I had no idea what the first step was to healing past what my father had done.

HYDRA wasn’t a topic that I could just plop down on a therapist’s couch and start discussing, there were only so many people I could talk to about it. I found myself wishing that Steve was still around, next to Bucky he was the world’s leading expert on how much damage the organization could do. Without a blueprint of how to begin mending my wounds, I was left to wallow in my own grief over the man I’d believed my dad to be. Sam, however, was on fire.

After him, Sarah and I had made the unanimous decision that the boat was too important to our family to part with, he had launched into the most intense training I’d ever seen him put himself through. He was both blowing me away and not surprising me at all with his dedication.

One morning, I came outside at his normal time to come home from his 6AM run with a cup of coffee for me and a Gatorade for him. On cue, he came jogging up the dirt path I’d watched Bucky leave on days ago.

“You’re inhuman,” I said, tossing him the drink as he approached, “I’m convinced of it.” “It’s nothin’ you couldn’t be doing,” he panted. 

“Yeah, I can run with you or I can get up before sunrise. A combo deal is not gonna happen,” I chortled before taking a sip of my coffee. 

Sam joined me and sat down beside me on our back porch, the view of the blue waters a perfect accent to the almost fully risen sun. “Look, I don’t wanna know any details but…you and Bucky?”

I smiled as I stared down into my mug, just the thought of him causing happiness to bloom in my chest. “It was kinda happening the whole time, it just took us a while to realize it.” Sam groaned, taking a long swig of his drink. “That’s all I need to know, as long as you both are happy and not too disgusting with each other,” he looked out the corner of his eyes at me, “I think I can live with it.” “Well, that’s mighty big of you,” I patted his sweaty shoulder, instantly regretting the decision and wiping my palm on my bathrobe, “That shield starting to feel like it’s yours?” Sam chuckled, “It doesn’t feel like it’s not mine anymore, it’s…weird. Talking with Isaiah was sobering and he’s allowed to be as bitter as he wants. The man’s earned to right to feel anything after what he’s been through. But,” he sighed, “I couldn’t let it go. All that pain and suffering, I can’t let it go to waste.” “You couldn’t not be a hero even if you tried,” I shook my head in amazement, beaming with pride at my brother, “I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” he hit my knee with the back of his hand, “I’ve got Torres working on some things, hopefully we can figure out where Karli might be going next-“ I couldn’t lead both him and Bucky to believe I was seriously considering going back to the fight. “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I held up a hand, “When you find them, it’s gonna be just you and Bucky. I’m out.” He furrowed his brows and twisted to face me fully, “Why?” “I can’t be the hero I thought I could, not after what I found out. It would only be a matter of time till somebody looked me up and figured out who my father was, then what? Some ex-HYDRA member comes looking for me? The public loses trust in me to protect them? Your reputation gets damaged when they realize I’m your sister?” I dropped my head down to stare at my lap, “It’s a bad idea. HYDRA doesn’t breed heroes.”

A beat of silence was played before my brother gave his rebuttal. “Look at me,” I dragged my eyes away from my engrossing coffee to him, “I couldn’t give two shits what people think about you being my sister, cause you know what? They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve done to try and stop the Flag Smashers, how you saved my life in that warehouse or how you helped keep our family going for five years. They don’t know how stubborn and caring and how much of a hero you are without your powers,” he paused and smirked at me, “And they’re never gonna know that if you don’t show them. What your dad did was horrible, but you’re not the one that did it. If you didn’t let his secret hold you back from being with Bucky, why’re you letting it hold you back from something else you want? You don’t need to be proud of being his daughter, but you need to make peace with it.”

He was right, as if he could ever be anything other than. Sam was counseling me like a sister but also like one of the countless veterans he’d helped wracked with guilt. I didn’t know if I’d ever fully recover from the hurt that came with the revelation, but if I kept on going how I was, I’d be a complete hypocrite. If Bucky could face the victims of his crimes and confess to them, I should’ve been able to deal with my ghosts. All I’d ever wanted to do was help people, to use that mutated gene of mine to help right wrongs. To do that, I needed to do the work. “This is a far cry from a few days ago when you were ready to send me packing,” I retorted. “Well,” Sam chuckled, “You proved me wrong. Fighting with you by my side just felt right, made me wish you could’ve been there for ‘em all.”

The fact that I had shown him that I could keep up with him was astounding, I honestly didn’t think it would ever happen. But with his approval, I’d have to have been an idiot to walk away from it all.

“Good talk,” I smiled, patting his leg while taking one last sip of my coffee before handing it to him.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Making peace with it.”

——

The drive from Delacroix to New Orleans had always relaxed me. The disappearance of the deep bayous as the scenery slowly changed to city, the ever present cypress trees, the hour travel time always gave me time to think. Something I was thankful for today especially.

I parked my car outside my destination, making the long trek through the cemetery I’d visited every week as a child. My feet automatically as I passed the neat rows of above ground tombs until I reached where I needed to be.

Keeping a safe distance away, I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and took a deep breath. “Hi,” I whispered, greeting my father’s tomb as if I expected it to speak back to me. “Um…I don’t know if you can hear me wherever you are but…there’s some things I need to talk to you about.” My eyes began to water, partially from the wind hitting my face but mostly from the tears that had been waiting to spring free. “Why’d you do it, Dad?” I whispered against the lump in my throat, “I don’t understand how you could ever have been a part of something so destructive. You were the last person I would have ever believed could have done something like this. You were my hero,” I looked down at the ground between us, “I never thought you’d end up being the villain.” I drew a shaky breath and continued, “I watched your guilt over your ‘time in the service’ tear you apart to a point where you thought death was the only way out so…I think it’s safe to assume you felt bad about what you’d done. I watched you every day try to be a good father to me and Mel, you didn’t succeed all the time but you did your best. I know you loved us…” “Somehow,” I dug the heel of my sneaker into my the dirt, “I’m trying to find it in me to forgive you, Dad. For the pain your secret’s brought me, for what your name could do to the rest of my life, for lying…But the one thing I don’t know how to forgive you for is what you did to Bucky,” the tears that I’d finally gotten under control threatened to start again, “Because Dad, he means the world to me and to know that you were behind that pain that’s running his life…It makes me want to hate you. And the saddest part is that I know you would have loved him if you’d ever gotten a chance to meet the real him.”

“The way I see it, I can’t undo the damage you did to the world,” my voice found its strength, “But what you did isn’t going to dictate what I do with my life. I’ve only ever wanted to do good, however I can, that’s what I’m going to do. I know that you wanted me to keep my powers hidden, probably because you didn’t want anyone to find me, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t pay the price for your sins. So I’m gonna fight and I’m gonna try to rewrite our family’s legacy.”

“Anyway, that’s, uh, that’s all I wanted to say,” I took a slow step forward and placed a hand over the stone tomb, “I wish…I wish things would have turned out different.”

With one last gaze upon my father’s final resting place, I left the same way I’d come, for once not having to fake the confidence I was feeling.

——

“Oh, oh, it’s going…” I teased.

“Give it back!” Sam yelled! “It’s going!”

“Y/n!” 

I levitated the shield further away from Sam and slid it across the ground into the boy’s soccer net, AJ and Cass chasing me as I did. I’d only just shown them that their aunt could make stuff fly and we were currently engaged in an intense game of keep away with Sam.

“AJ! Grab it!” I yelled, my nephew hurrying to the net and lifting the shield, stumbling a little as he took off running with it on his arm. I threw up a force field around Sam, who was gaining on him, “Oh no!” Sam was laughing the whole time as he tried to punch his way out of the bubble encasing him. “Go go go!” I cried, watching the boys run off with the shield into the house, dropping the field once they were inside.

“You’re the worst influence on them, you know that right?” Sam chuckled as we slowly made our way towards the front door. 

“Hey, I don’t want them thinking their uncle’s the only cool one in the family,” I replied as we entered the house, pulling out my phone to check the notifications I’d feel vibrating in my back pocket. One was a news alert. “Sam.” “Huh?” I tossed him my phone and hurried through the house till I reached the television, flipping to the news to see the article come to life. The GRC was voting in New York on the Patch Act, a movement that would move twenty million refugees back to their home country.

“Shit,” I mumbled, feeling Sam’s presence behind me. His phone rang to announce a call. “It’s Torres,” he held out the phone and revealed the man’s face. “Sorry this took so long, spare you the technical details, but I finally got results for the scans you asked for and I think we’re onto something,” Torres explained as Sam and I went to look at his computer, displaying a map of Europe that lit up with bright red circles. “When we look back, all these pings, they’re from places just before the Flag Smashers hit. Clearly, they’re all over Europe. Earlier today, we got one from New York. Now, I can’t promise you they’re not using a VPN or masking their location, but…” I’d stopped listening after he’d said ‘New York,’ and turned my attention to the tv, every piece of the puzzle was coming together. Karli wouldn’t be physically able to hold herself back from interfering with the vote. “Great work, Joaquin,” Sam said, his eyes trained on the screen along with me, “We’ll take it from here,” he hung up the call and turned to me, “Time to get to work. Come with me.” He rose from his chair and led me to the coat closet nearest to the front door, opening it up to pull out a large silver case and handing it to me. “I don’t know what’s in it, Bucky just told me to hold onto it until the time came where you’d need it,” Sam stated, “I’m thinking that’s now.” Confusedly, I carried it out and up to my bedroom, placing it on my mattress and trying to figure out how to open it. There was no keyhole, only a bar that hosted a red screen. My finger brushed over it, the action turning it blue and the case automatically released an air lock I didn’t know it had. Waiting a few seconds to make sure nothing popped out, I carefully opened the box to see something I couldn’t have predicted in a million years. Resting on top of the surprise was a note on the nicest stationary I’d ever seen…

You may be able to kick my ass, but I’m never gonna stop trying to protect you.

- Bucky

I breathed a soft laugh, holding the paper in my hand and imagining Bucky hunched over a table, writing the words that were now lodged in my heart. “Sam,” I called out, leaving the case open and rushing across the hall to my brother’s room, “Sam, it’s-“ All words disappeared and all thoughts halted at the sight of him opening up his own case, I didn’t need to see its contents to make an educated guess at what was inside of it. There were a dozen emotions playing out on Sam’s face, wonder, apprehension, excitement, shock…Every one of them valid but none of them coming close to the amount of pure determination in his eyes.

I watched from the doorway, smiling, “Ready when you are, Cap.”

----

A/N: AHHH. Only two chapters left, hope this one lived up to your expectations. Getting your messages and comments and asks have been making my days and I’m so glad people are enjoying this little ride I’m taking us all on. Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged for the remainder of the series!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebos​ @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @i-know-i-can​ @x-judyjude-x​ @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla​ @buckverse​ @living-that-best-life​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20​ @missstef23​ @qhbr2013​ @sebby-stann​ @bluemoon-icecream​ @iixbella​ @lets-love-little-me​ @abitofeverythinggg​ @itsnottilly​ @sltwins​ @mads-weasley​ @hart-failure @natdrunk​ @nctma15​

[solaria222]

P I C K A C A R D

w h a t y o u n e e d

t o f o c u s o n

this is a timeless tarot reading, it can still be applicable to you regardless of when you see it. take a deep breath and ask yourself "what do i need to focus on right now?" and see which pile you are most drawn to.

P I L E 1 ||

(the video game controller)

Hi, pile 1 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)! currently you seem very focused on yourself. your energy is like that quote, "work in silence and let your success be the noise". you've been very low-key lately. in a no-nonsense mood. you may have done some things in the past that made you worry about your decisions, you're trying to not make any mistakes. you should focus on getting your stuff together. try to relax, don't focus on all this worry you have. if you're moving to a new house, or getting a new job then focus on that as well. be patient and optimistic with your progress. don't be so hard on yourself. please clean your room. don't focus on what's lost. exciting things will unfold for you, pile one!

extras

self worth

the only one who gets to decide your worth is you. it doesn't come from your bank account or the number of friends you have. it doesn't come from what someone else says you are worth. it's called self-worth for a reason - it comes from being you. it comes from being yourself and being proud of who you are. it comes from being someone that you can count on and someone you love. the numbers will change with time, but what won't change is who you are deep inside - beautiful / handsome, limitless, wonderful, creative, strong, capable - and that is where your worth comes from.

(-nikki banas)

growth

everything will work out exactly how and when it's supposed to, regardless of how and when you may want it to. let your faith in the journey be stronger than your doubts and fears be patient with yourself and your growth, knowing that good things always take time. give yourself time and space to try things and explore different paths. you will get there one day, so don't forget to enjoy the journey too.

(-nikki banas)

february

august

june

8 & 7

P I L E 2 ||

(the doorbell)

Hello there, pile 2 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`). everything in your life may be a mess right now. you feel untethered somehow. you feel as if you are attracting miserliness info your life. you haven't been focusing on particularly anything as of now. (you aren't alone, pile two. i feel the same 😔) you may have been focusing on studies, responsibilities, and the likes. right now, focus on your feelings. don't ignore them. treat yourself to things you enjoy. maybe icecream. do the things you enjoy doing. (a small suggestion here : you can try one of those 30 days of happiness (◍•ᴗ•◍) ) know your worth. once you finally understand it, you'll be disgusted at the things you used to settle for. be more responsible. invest in your relationships with your family.

extras

start all over

it's okay to start all over its okay to start everything from the ground up. it's okay to try something brand new. sometimes we forget that we aren't stuck and that we can change our entire life in a day, in a single moment of courage. we can move to a new city, we can say hello to someone new, we can join a new group, we can start writing that book. there is no limit to the things we can do if we choose. don't be afraid to start all over, my lovely friend. this is your life. why not make it wonderfully yours?

(-walk the earth)

just breathe

pause. amidst a the busyness. dyeing the days of back to back appointments, celebrations and meetings. during the moments when life seems to be moving at one hundred miles per hour. pause. take it all in, right where you are now. reacquaint yourself with who you are. remind yourself that you're doing your best and that that is all you can do. pause. allow yourself to take a moment to stretch and fe your muscles relax. let any tension fall away. pause. take in as much as air as your lungs will allow and just breathe. you are doing better than you think.

(-nikki banas)

january

november

october

0

P I L E 3 ||

(the teacup)

Hey there, pile 3. have you been focused on money recently? you may be focused on trying to move on from an ex relationship, platonic or romantic. you're very focused on yourself at the moment. if you're spiritual maybe focus on doing some research on that. focus on your independence. persist. believe in yourself. trust that you do have the strength. don't be afraid to express yourself. this is pretty short, but you're on the right track so keep going 💀

extras

growth

everything will work out exactly how and when it's supposed to, regardless of how and when you may want it to. let your faith in the journey be stronger than your doubts and fears. be patient with yourself and your growth, knowing that good things always take time. give yourself time and space to try things and explore different paths. you will get there one day, so don't forget to enjoy the journey too.

(-nikki banas)

"making you happy makes me happy"

august

march

april

wednesday

"days"

P I L E 4 ||

(the paper origami bird)

heyo, pile four. your energy seems to be focused on getting resources to achieve your goals, independence and general bad bitch energy. right now, you're focusing on spirituality. (I heard that some of you have an astrology blog 👀 drop the link) you've been focusing on resting and self-care. you've been incredibly hard-working lately. you should focus more on self-care, and get some clarity. your advice is to not give up. you can do it! fight for your fairytale ending. cut off ties with people who place limits onto you, toxic or jealous people.

extras

free

be exactly who you want to be. be the person who stand up for themselves and their dreams. be the person who is proud of themselves and proud to be themselves. be the person who is strong and vulnerable ; wild and free. these chains could never hold someone like you, I think it's time you finally break free.

(-nikki banas)

decide

you are the only one in charge of your destiny. unfair things things may happen to you, unfortunate times may come to you, but you always get to choose how you respond. you can live in frustration and bitterness, or just be the bigger person and just play the hell out of the cards you are dealt. the truth is that not a single person can choose the cards they receive, but everyone chooses how they play their cards.

(-nikki banas)

have a great day / night! :)

aut viam inveniam aut faciam

- i will either find a way, or make one.

[vimeddiart]

Strangers

Patron-voted fic of my D&D beeflings! Read the previous comic and the first comic for this series for context!

On AO3

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

The zinging cadence of his hammer hitting a new blade usually tempers his fraught emotions and lessens their intensity. The rhythm and beat usually calms him, the heat of the furnace and the steady drip of sweat as well. Except his heart thunders on and his breathing remains irregular and his eyes sting—not from stray embers or errant drops of perspiration—and his agitation grows.

It grows so powerfully that he miscalculates and swings his hammer much too harshly, breaking the blade he was trying to fashion which frustrates him further and he throws down his tools with a clatter, pressing the gloved heels of his hands to his brow.

Lazlo.

Tuhka releases a trembling breath.

Barely a day had passed since he had regurgitated all of the regret and agony of his childhood friend’s death right into said friend’s face before gracelessly fleeing, the bitter taste of tears still on his tongue and Lazlo’s look of resounding disbelief haunting him even here in the safety of his forge.

It wasn’t fair.

Why must he have been forced to carry the burden of grief and guilt for so many years? All those moments of remembrance, thinking of a friend—the only one he ever had— ripped away from the world much too soon, endless nights of pain and suffering, wishing he’d been taken instead...and for what? Lazlo was alive. Had been for perhaps as long as Tuhka had grieved his loss.

How much hatred—or worse, indifference—must Lazlo have harboured to fail in seeking Tuhka out...to reassure him, to reunite with him, to talk with him. They had been family.

Tuhka wrenches off his gloves and tosses them to the side, stalking towards the entrance of his smithy for some air, unable to concentrate anymore on his craft. His hands shake when he grasps the wrought iron gate.

A sound distracts him for a moment, one that carries over on the salty evening breeze that cools the sweat of his brow. Gravel crushed underfoot. It’s gone in an instant and even with his sharp hearing, Tuhka strains to listen for something further, ears swivelling in the hopes to catch it.

It doesn’t take too much investigation to track down the source of the sound once he decides to; a dark figure perched somewhat dejectedly on a boulder that offsets a scenic cliffside path Tuhka often takes to clear his head.

“You didn’t waste your grief, if that’s what you’re bothered about,” the figure says.

Tuhka’s breath leaves him in a rush as he’s met with a familiar blue gaze. He feels pulled forward by some invisible thread and settles himself on the far edge of the same boulder, leaving a bit of distance between them.

Lazlo sighs, drops his head into his hands. “When you left that day and never came back, I...believed you’d abandoned me, that you’d made good on your promise—”

“That was a child’s threat, I never meant to—” Tuhka began, needing to explain despite the betrayal he felt, still very fresh, that had upended years of mourning.

The other tiefling shook his head, dropping his hands away from his face and letting them fall to his lap. “I made a terrible decision, I paid for it,” the spectral left hand twitches and Tuhka notices it properly for the first time, heart squeezing despite everything and mind filling with more questions, “and I...went away for a long time. I didn’t think to look for you...I thought you despised me.”

He releases a mirthless laugh. “I don’t think I would’ve found you anyway. I’d have been looking for someone...quite different.”

Tuhka swallows hard. “I’ve...probably grown a bit since you last saw me.”

This startles a small, but real, laugh out of Lazlo, even if it does sound a little wet.

After a pause, Tuhka gathers strength from the stars and attempts to keep his voice steady. “That day...I went back for you. I did. I wasn’t going to, I was about to start a new life away from those bloody mines and I was so angry with you that I hoped you would stew in them forever...but then I remembered you wanted to get out just as desperately as I did and we swore to do it together so I went back to fetch you.”

Tuhka didn’t dare raise his eyes to Lazlo’s face, staring intently at his own hands grasping his knees even though the image was beginning to waver and blur.

“It was snowing and freezing and I walked through it without stopping, thinking that I would see you soon and whisk us away to a better place, until I saw the smoke from over the hill and I knew you’d gone ahead with our plan without me,” Tuhka let out a shuddering breath, “they said you got crushed in the tunnel along with that bastard foreman. Don’t remember much of what happened after that...just that I’d gone to fetch you and came back empty-handed.”

Tears flowed freely, despite previously believing he had run out of tears to shed. From the corner of his eye he noticed Lazlo wipe his face with a pure, white square of cloth.

“Told you the truth though…” Tuhka continued, after a none-too-discreet sniff, “mourned you like a piece of me had died. Couldn’t think of much else for a good few years,” He runs a forearm over his face roughly and finally turns to Lazlo, raw and exposed, “I would’ve looked for you in a heartbeat if I’d known you were alive. I would’ve.”

Lazlo lets out a sound like an animal in pain, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks that he no longer tries to wipe away. “I didn’t know...I didn’t know— I mucked up my plan and ending up losing everything, I— I was trapped for years without knowing how much time passed, I was...I was isolated from the outside in a way you won’t be able to understand but you must believe me, I never wanted to lose you—”

That final crack in Lazlo’s voice is what forces Tuhka to move closer and wrap an arm around his shoulders, mumbling soothing words until the sobs that wrack Lazlo’s frame subside. It reminds him of when he was younger—and much smaller—when Lazlo would do the same for him after a tumble, a run in with the awful foreman, or when overcome with a sadness he couldn’t understand, much less explain. Lazlo would have been there to comfort him, always.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lazlo lets out a tremulous sigh. “...Tables have turned, hm?”

Tuhka makes a tentatively amused sound in response. There is a whirlwind of emotion to wade through, but he can take this moment just to experience how real and solid Lazlo is. That he’s back.

“A right pair of bellends we turned out to be,” he ends up saying.

“Quite.” Lazlo sniffs, but there’s a small, albeit watery, smile on his lips as he straightens out of Tuhka’s one-armed embrace, and Tuhka tries not to let the empty feeling that remains affect him too much.

Something that has been niggling in the back of Tuhka’s mind takes on more force and the reason finally dawns on him.

“You sound different.”

Lazlo finishes wiping his face with a fresh, white handkerchief and makes a noise, muffled by the fabric.

“Yes, ah...I trained out the accent I used to have and replaced it with a new one.”

Tuhka blinks. “What’s wrong with your old accent? That’s the accent I have! I got it from you!”

“I needed to, ah...move in higher circles of society and I couldn’t very well sound like a common miner, could I?”

Tuhka opens his mouth to argue, a nostalgia for their juvenile arguments filling him in a split second, but Lazlo interrupts, “You know, we don’t have to speak Common if you’d prefer.”

They fall back on Infernal so naturally that Tuhka has to swallow a lump in his throat and keep the waver out of his voice. He never thought he would have this again. He’s a little rusty and out of practice but that doesn’t seem to matter in the moment—it’s like they’re back in the mines, speaking their language out of earshot of the foreman, making plans for the future in a world that was all dreams.

Tuhka tells Lazlo how he adopted Ooria (and not the other way round as she claimed to recall) and how she had helped him find his true self. He tells him about his work, his smithy and how he made a home on this cliff by the ocean. He doesn’t talk about the painful things, like crying himself to sleep every night for years from missing him, or the search for his adoptive mother who was now lost.

Lazlo talks about— what Tuhka suspects is— superficial milestones, his expertise in identifying gemstones, the places he’s visited and the night skies he has lain under and commemorated on his skin. Tuhka notices the glittering constellations peeking out of Lazlo’s clothes and his heart thumps, wanting to ask what made them special enough to wear permanently but he stops himself...still feeling like a stranger. There’s an undercurrent of darkness in Lazlo’s vague statements, of secrets untold, and Tuhka is slightly surprised by a keen disappointment that bubbles within him at not being trusted with them.

There’s a lull in conversation, an impending finality that Tuhka does not appreciate. He refuses to remain a stranger as well, which prompts him to realise that he hasn’t even properly introduced himself yet.

Feeling bold, he holds a hand out in the human way. “Tuhka Turunen.”

Lazlo’s gaze lands on the proffered hand and then flickers up to Tuhka’s face, seeming to weigh his options. He breathes out a laugh and leans forward, ignoring the hand to press his forehead slowly but firmly against Tuhka’s in customary tiefling fashion. An echo of the greeting they shared when they first met as children.

“Lazarus Astrophel,” whispers the tiefling formerly known as Lazlo.

Tuhka smiles. “Nice to meet you, Lazarus.”

They part and Lazlo—Lazarus—clears his throat, “My close acquaintances sometimes call me Laz. You may do so, after all we’re—” a beat of hesitation, “—old friends.”

His vibrant blue eyes are on Tuhka, almost as if expecting him to disagree. Tuhka doesn’t.

“Laz,” he says, smiling, “lot less likely to get mixed up with that.”

The sea breeze sighs around them, ruffling hair and clothing. Tuhka watches as Lazarus gets to his feet.

“It’s late. I should be going.”

Panic flickers through Tuhka. “You’re leaving?”

“I have business in town for a day or two, I’m staying at an inn there...The King’s Cushion?”

Tuhka nods, recognising the name. He gets to his feet as well, unintentionally towering over Lazarus.

“Stars...I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Lazarus grimaces.

“You’re welcome to visit,” Tuhka blurts out, trying to keep any semblance of desperation out of his voice and getting the impression that he failed, “you wanted to commission something, we can talk about that whenever you like.”

After a moment of confusion, Lazarus’ expression clears. “Ah, right, yes, that was what got us into this mess in the first place, wasn’t it? Yes,” he smiles, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

This time when he leaves, it’s with a lot less anger than moments after their first confrontation only days ago, and with a promise to come back. They had once shared everything, even their deepest desires. Now, after fifteen years apart, they’ve become completely different people—the fact that Lazarus came here, willing to talk, making promises to return even if there’s a chance he may not keep them...it’s a start. And that will have to be enough for now.

Tuhka sits back down once Lazarus has vanished from sight down the path and gazes up at the same stars he had begged night after night to return his best friend to him.

He thanks them for listening.

[b-lessings]

10 lessons I learned from the first 10 days of Ramadan 🌙

(personal, subjective, and in no particular order)

1) It's a constant work and it doesn't get easier. This is the first thing that came into my mind. As a matter of fact, the daily routine of this month is no joke, whichever deeds you try to perform and incorporate in your deen from the 5 obligatory prayers, to the sunnah, to the nawafil, to the azkar, to the Qur'an recitation, to the daily x number of istighfar you promised yourself you'd achieve, it is a lot of work, especially if you have a family to take care of, a job or school to go to, or more critically, if your mental health is not at its best condition. Every day (or night), you get out of bed and you're back at square one, you have all this list of tasks to do, and it gets a lot some times, and you do feel exhausted (but if you are among the lucky ones, then it is the good kind of exhausted), and it's not like your prayers are gonna perform themselves, you have to ger up, you have to act. That's why you need to constantly remind yourself why you are doing this in the first place. What is the point of fasting and waking up in the middle of the night to pray and spending hours throughout the day just remembering Allah swt and reading his book, etc. You have to remind yourself of the ultimate purpose of this month, that we are sacrificing the worldly pleasures for the sake of Allah swt, to gain Taqwa, to be in a state of constante awareness and consciousness of Allah's presence, to get closer to Allah swt the most gracious the most merciful, and that if we don't actually put on some work and effort, we won't get to where we want to go, we won't achieve any of that. It is good to keep things in perspective. Be aware of what you are doing, where you are now, where do you wanna go and what it takes to get you there. If it's constant work and effort, then be it.

2) You can't achieve anything by yourself, your intentions are not enough, you need Allah's support. In fact, for the first couple of days I was so confused, I had to ask my sisters " If the devils are all locked away, why do I feel like I can't focus? " And I was constantly asking myself, if I have already prepared, downloaded the calendars and planners, put up a big board on my bedroom wall, etc., Why do I feel like my Iman is getting low?, AstaghfiruAllah. Aren't we supposed to feel on cloud nine? In a state of pure bliss? And then I came across a khutbah where the Sheikh may Allah swt bless him answered my question. He explained that even though Shaytan is locked away, he has already programmed us, for 11 months (he even made a joke that Shaytan deserves a month off because he has been working too hard for the rest of the year). Anyways, what I realized is even your will and your plans and your excitement about Ramadan and your promises to do so and so deeds is not enough if you don't ask Allah swt for support, for sabr, for guidance, for help, for strength to be able to fulfill those ibadat and carry out the plans you have made for this month. You need to constantly ask Allah swt because who else is our refuge? Who else is our source of strength and patience ? Who else will keep us steadfast on the straight path? And who else is gonna help us against the traps of Shaytan? No matter how willing or excited or determined you are to perform your prayers, finish reading the Qur'an, etc, you still need Allah swt to bless your deeds, every step of the way. Without Him, nothing can be achieved. So in your sujood, ask Him that He give you enough strength to finish that prayer in full Khushoo' and concentration, and after that prayer, ask him for sabr and strength to manage to perform the next one and the one after. Tell Him that you seek refuge in Him from the traps of Shaytan, from laziness and lethargy, from the disoriented heart and the distracted mind. Show Him that you are vulnerable and that even though you are trying to do this for Him, you actually can't do it without Him. SubhanAllah.

3) Forgive yourself when you fall short.

{يُرِيدُ اللَّهُ بِكُمُ الْيُسْرَ وَلَا يُرِيدُ بِكُمُ الْعُسْرَ}

{God intends for you ease and does not want hardship for you}

Allah swt literally said this in Surat Al Baqara (The Cow) when he prescribed Fasting upon us and introduced us to the holy month of Ramadan. Soz read it again. As simple as that, I am not gonna develop this idea further.

4) No matter how much you prepared before Ramadan came, you aren't prepared enough. Well, are you familiar with the saying that Ramadan is like a marathon and you have to prepare for it way before? That's actually true. And guess what? No matter how much you think you are prepared, there are still gonna be some moments when you'd still feel out of breath, where you wish you'd have prepared more. May Allah swt make us reach the end of this month smoothly and seamlessly. May Allah swt bless us and accept our deeds from beginning to end.

5) Our deeds don't get accepted because they're good enough, they get accepted because Allah is merciful. I heard this in a youtube khutba just last night and it resonated with me. Put this in your mind, learn it by heart, print it out on your forehead if necessary! No matter how perfect you think your deeds are, they won't get accepted because you're an amazing slave of Allah swt and you win at worship and ibadah. Don't get too confident, beware of arrogance, control your ego. Stay humble and know your place. The only reason why your deeds would be accepted is because Allah swt will have mercy on you, not because you are so good that your deeds would qualify you for forgiveness and acceptance. So pray that Allah swt accepts our deeds and pray that he encompasses us with His mercy.

6) Don't compare to others, don't get intimidated by others, we are not on the same journey. Walk your own rocky path. I can't stress this enough. I know a lot of brothers and sisters Mashaa'Allah, Allahuma barik, are overachievers, or they might just be out of our league. And sometimes, through social media, we see what they share (in their attempt to motivate us and share some tips and good deeds, spread the knowledge, May Allah swt bless them, accept their deeds and reward them), so we get intimidated. Sometimes it feels like what we are doing is not good enough because it doesn't even compare to what X or Y are doing. And we feel a bit scared that we are not good enough of slaves for Allah swt or that Allah swt wouldn't be pleased with us like He swt would be pleased with them, and we can even feel unworthy and get discouraged ( beware it's a shaytan trap). It is simple though, your path to Allah swt is very personal. What a brother or a sister does only get to inspire you not discourage you or intimidate you. When you see someone sharing something good or beneficial, make duaa for them and make duaa for yourself then leave it at that. Competition is taking over every aspect of our worldly life, we shouldn't let it mess with this sacred part as well. And remember, we are not all on the same journey to Allah swt. It is okay if you can't recite the Qur'an in such a beautiful way or if you can't pray 10 rakaas of Taraweeh, it is okay if you can't read in Arabic or if you don't learn any hadith by heart. Allah swt is patient enough and considerate enough. Scratch that, He swt is the most patient, the most considerate, the most gracious, the most generous, and He appreciates your effort. What matters for Him is your sincerity and the purity of your intentions.

7) The less food you take, the more energy you will have. FACTS. I mean, imagine the struggle of having to pray Ishaa and Taraweeh on a full stomach where every time you get down for sujood you feel like your soup is coming up :/ Allahu almusta'aan. This month is not about feasting. It is literally about giving up pleasures (food being one of them) to focus on Allah. So, Focus on what's important and set your priorities straight.

8) Don't overdue it. Beware of the ghost of Burnout. So yeah, like I already said earlier, it is a lot of work and it requires preparation and constant effort. The aim is to be at our best shape of health and Iman on the last 10 nights because they are the most sacred, the most important, the most blessed. You might wanna consider starting small with your deeds and building up slowly. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "Do good deeds properly, sincerely and moderately and know that your deeds will not make you enter Paradise, and that the most beloved deed to Allah is the most regular and constant even if it were little." [Al Bukhari]

9) Personalize your ibadat / plans. In other words, do what's best for you and what's beneficial for you. Define your weaknesses and the areas in which you want to improve. Don't just do this or that deed because everyone else is doing them. Do not follow blindly. What is good for you might not be the thing recommended or done by the others. And what you need on your faith journey is not what X or Y needs. You will be judged on your own deeds, your own journey. Have a purpose and a reason for what you are doing and why you are doing that. Also, the more you feel like your plan or your routine is personal, the more you can relate to it and connect with it, the more sincere you will be, the more excited and enthousiastic you will be, and the easier it will be for you to perform your ibadat in Shaa Allah.

10) Too much information can be poisonous. If ,like me, you got into a habit of watching lectures and videos of speakers this Ramadan, then breaking news: it might get confusing. I don't want you to feel lost and confused. Allahima barik the resources are countless and limitless. But also, you have to beware whom you listen to. There are different sects, different perspectives, different rulings on certain things. So, try not take things blindly. Take them with a pinch of salt and always try to do a background check. And eventually, when it gets too much, always choose what's best for your heart, because we are created with an innate sense of "right" , our fitrah is sane, Alhamdulillah. So, try to be critical. Allah swt even recommends that.

I hope this post can be beneficial. Tell me which part you related to the most, and if you have any extra tips, please share. May Allah swt accept our deeds and grant us forgiveness, amen. 🤍

[creepling]

am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep. 

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life. 

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky. 

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069​ (join my taglist)

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Crawl Home to Her

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem BAU Reader 

Warnings: Religion is mentioned, slight mention of supposed homophobia, drug use, death and thoughts of dying, kidnapping (it’s Spencer’s POV of Revelations)

Author’s Note: I was listening to Work Song by Hozier and felt like it fits PERFECTLY for what Spencer was going through when he was kidnapped by Tobias. I took some creative liberties, but much of the plot lines up to the show’s episode. I linked the song if anyone wants to listen to it before they read or after, it’s such a beautiful song. Hozier is in my top three artists; his voice is just so beautiful and soulful. 

Summary: The only thing that’s keeping Spencer alive is the memories of his Heaven. Maybe someone how a faithless man will escape Death’s grasp on faith alone. 

Word Count: around 3.2K

Category: Angst 

Crawl Home to Her

When Spencer comes to the first thing he notices is the smell of burning. The stench permeates the air around him, filling his nostrils. The second thing he notices is breathing. Breathing that is not his own. A man stands before him and it takes him a second to piece it all together. The throbbing in his head takes much of his energy. He can feel the blood drip down the back of his neck and cake onto the collar of his work shirt. Strangely, all he could think about is the time his father told him a respectable man never wore a spoiler shirt. Well dad, look at me now, Spencer thinks grimly. He hates that his father occupies his mind even when he’s about to die. He has much more beautiful things to think about than the man who called him a failure.

“They’re gone,” the shadowy figure tells him. Tobias, Spencer thinks. Tobias is the unsub. 

“Who are they?,” Spencer asks, his voice must sound as cowardly as he feels. He hopes that Tobias didn’t get Y/N. He can’t live with himself if he let his partner, in more ways than one, get hurt. 

“It’s just me know,” Tobias answers, in such a way that it’s almost obvious. 

“Who...Who are you?” Spencer croaks. The lightbulb hanging above his head taunts him. He has the lightbulb, but where’s the ideas? Where are the answers? Where is the light of safety? 

“I’m Raphael,” Tobias says, standing to his full height, towering over a trembling Spencer. 

Raphael... The angel...Spencer’s mind turns but is halted by the horrible smell coming from his side. It invades his mind and nothing seems to make sense. 

“What’s that smell?” he asks.

“They’re burning fish hearts and livers. Keeps away the devil,” Tobias or Raphael answers, Spencer is not too sure who he’s even talking to at this point.

“They say you can see inside men’s minds,” 

“That’s not true, I-I study human behavior-” Spencer reasons, but is cut off by Tobias/Raphael’s passive shushing. 

“I’m not interested in the arguments of men,” Raphael tells him. He turns around to rummage in his pocket for something that Spencer can’t make out in the dim light of the shed. Between the lightbulb blinding him and the stench of the liver burning, Spencer’s senses are overloading themselves. Focus, Spencer, focus, he begs of himself. 

Don’t let him win. Don’t let him win. 

Tobias pulls out a revolver and a bullet. He toys the bullet in Spencer’s face, asking him “Do you know what this is?” 

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. 

“It’s God’s will,” Tobias says rationally. 

The cocks the gun and aims it towards Spencer’s head. If he pulls the trigger he’d shoot him straight in his head. Staring down death, all Spencer can think about is him suggesting that they split up. He was the one who left Y/N, he’s the one that’s responsible.

“You don’t have to do this,” Spencer tries to reason. 

“I’m just an instrument of God. This is your salvation, this is time to repent for your sins,” Tobias says, pulling a chair to sit next time. It’s strange, Spencer thinks, Tobias is not that much older than he is. This job has forced Spencer to think of the countless paths that he could have gone down. Part of him thinks that could have easily been on the other side, the angry part of him, the broken and sad part of him. 

“Tell me your sins, and may God forgive you,” Tobias says, his voice almost as fearful as Spencer feels. 

Spencer closes his eyes, trying to think of all the things he’s done wrong in his life. All the people he’s hurt or the mistakes that he’s made. But at this moment there’s nothing running through his mind by the thought of Y/N. The way she’d hold him after a case or the way that she’d listen to him with light in her eye’s. It’s nice to have someone who cares, Spencer thinks. Or at least it was. 

“I’m a good man, Tobias, I’m a good man. Like you, we catch the bad guys, Tobias--we are the same. We catch the sinners.” Spencer professes, trying anything to get out of here alive. He’d do anything to get back to Y/N. To get back in her warm embrace. 

“We all have our sins, including you. You just need sometime to sort them out,” Tobias says, and like that he’s gone with the wind. 

***

It’s early morning when Spencer wakes up, the sun bleeds through the cracks of the wood panel door. His clothes are caked in his blood and dirt. His hair is stringy and the blood from his ear clogs his hearing. But he’s alive, he's still here, breathing the same air as Y/N. Somehow that’s enough to keep him hoping that she’d find him- save him. 

The door opens with a sudden slam, Tobias walks in carrying a load of logs. There’s something different about him. Spencer thinks that there’s an air of arrogance, an air of superiority in his walk. 

“What are you staring at, boy?” Tobias- or at least the man who looks like Tobias Hankel asks. 

“You’re not Raphael?” Spencer reasons. 

Tobias throws the pile of logs into the box on the floor of the shed. He stands up to his full height, but there’s something that’s taller about him than last night. There’s something more intimating about the man standing before Spencer. 

“Do I look like Raphael to you?” Tobias asks, the sneer so apparent. 

Spencer decides to ignore that, answering this person, whoever he is, is not in his best interest. 

“Thank you for burning these, for keeping us safe,” Spencer says, trying to get on his good side for his sake, so he can go back to Y/N. 

Y/N. If Spencer can just close off his mind and focus on her, he’d be okay. He’d get through this. If he can just close his eyes he can just feel her touch or taste her lips against his. If her kisses make him a sinner then crucify him. Least he’d die a happy man, with the promise of tomorrow with her endless love. 

“Don’t try to trick me, you’re are filthy liar, you’re a disgusting sinner,” 

God, Spencer thinks, waits until he hears that he’s from Vegas and fell in love with a man. Spencer focuses on breathing, not the itch from being dirty with his own blood or not the thought of impending death. 

“It will be over if you confess, boy. Confess your sins!” Tobias yells. 

“I’m not a sinner,” Spencer says, almost defiantly. There’s a surge of strength in Spencer, and he swears that the small memories of Y/N makes him a stronger person. 

“We are all sinners” 

“The Lord spoke unto Moses saying, ‘speak unto all the congregation of the children of the lord’  and say unto them, ye shall be holy, for I, the lord your god, am holy,” Spencer quotes, the fear somehow seeping back into his voice. 

“You know Leviticus,” Tobias says, almost surprised. Yes, Spencer thinks, even heathens can quote the Bible. 

“I know every word of the Bible, I can quote it for you?” Spencer pleads. 

“Even the Devil can read,” Tobias tells him. 

Spencer’s wound bleeds down his neck, the throbbing almost pounds to the beat of his heart.

“It’s time to confess, Spencer Reid,” Tobias whispers, leaning into Spencer. 

“I’m a good man, Tobias. I finally found someone who puts back the pieces. I found someone who loves me, and I can’t leave her like this. I can’t do that to her.” Spencer confesses. 

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs,” Tobias quotes, and as he does his face seems to drift off. It’s like he's there with Spencer, but not there at the same time.

“First Corinthians, Verse 13,” Spencer recites. 

“Hmm, so your parents did raise a believer,” Tobias reckons. 

More or less, Spencer thinks. He might not believe in God the Almighty, some entity in the clouds watching over him, but he does believe in love and maybe even an afterlife. He has to believe in an afterlife, because if he doesn’t he’d fail to give Y/N forever. 

“Yes,” Spencer says, settling on playing the part of a righteous believer. 

“Yes, my parents read me the Bible. They are good people too,” Spencer tells him. 

Spencer’s not really sure what happens next, but the blow to his head makes the world go black and the sweet memories of Y/N fade into the distance. 

*** 

A cool rag presses against Spencer’s head, where he figures where “Tobias” hit him, or whoever was there with him. 

Dissociative Identity Disorder. DID. DSM-5. 300.14 (F44.81). Tobias has three personalities, Spencer thinks. He remembers the day vidily. Reading about DID with Ethan, they sat on the lawn of the park near school. His memories are distrubed by a very confused looking Tobias, who hold bandages and a wet rag. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, hoping that whoever was there last night is gone. 

“Tobias,” he says, almost meekly. Spencer recognizes something in that, somewhere deep inside him, he recognizes the fear that Tobias wears like a shield. The man here last night must have been his father... 

“Who was here last night?” 

“My father, Charles,” Tobias says. “I’m sorry if he hurt you.” 

Tobias turns to reach in his bag, he brings out a vial of clear liquid, a needle and a long piece of cloth. He ties the long piece of cloth around Spencer’s arm, who with a sudden realization fights to get away from Tobias. 

“NO! Please, NO!” Spencer yells, trying his hardest to fend off the inevitable. 

“It helps, Spencer. I’m trying to save you from him! It’s gonna help, it helped me,” Tobias tells him, continuing to tie the fabric in a tight knot above Spencer’s elbow. 

“Please! I don't want it!” Spencer pleads as the room folds in one him, the darkness is not welcoming, it's suffocating. It’s sucking the life out of him and he can’t escape it’s clutches. 

***

There’s another person in this shed, Spencer thinks. He tries to strain his eyes to make out who it is. It’s not Tobias, the shadow is too short for him. 

Y/N. 

She’s wearing a dress, the blue dress that she wore on their first date. He loves that dress on her. He’s sure he’d love any dress or anything she’d put on to wear for their first date, because well, it’s their first date. 

“Spencer,” her voice is even more comforting than usual. It’s syrupy sweet and he feels like he’d get a toothache just from listening. 

“Sweet Spencer, you need to come home to me, okay? Come home to me baby.” 

He tries to call out to her, but it’s futile. She's a ghost, but she looked so real. Maybe he’s the ghost and his eternal damnation is to haunt her. He’s able to see her, but never able to get close enough to feel the way her hands caress his checks or the way her eyes light up at his touches. 

The spooky beauty of his girlfriend is whisked away with the familiar shoots of two tall, skinny figures. His parents. His father sits there on the table with a sneer on his face. His mother has this faraway look on her face. Spencer’s twelve again, listening to his father yell and slam the bedroom door as he rushes out the door, never looking back. 

The shadowy figures are gone as soon as they came and are nothing but a reminder to Spencer that he’s not worthy of love. He feels guilty. He really does, but the needle going into his vein brings back Y/N and for now he wants nothing more, but to see her, even if it’s not real. 

***

Spencer’s not sure if he craves the clear liquid in the vial because he gets to see Y/N or if he craves to see Y/N because gets to the liquid coursing through his veins, the slightest reminder that he’s alive. 

He’s alone in the shed, but there’s a bright green light blinking. A computer, he wonders. Is this the way from the Ninth Circle of Hell? Is this his way home, his way to Y/N? 

His thoughts of home and of their warm bed are interrupted by who he can only assume is Raphael, enough time has passed for him to be rising to the surface. Part of him misses Tobias, they’d probably would have been friends growing up. Two outcasts raised by a parent who meant well, but did do irreparable harm in the end. 

“It’s time to choose,” Raphael announces. He points to the computer screen, which lights up. Spencer can only assume that his face is being streamed across the internet. Garcia, and probably the entire team are watching this, watching him at his lowest moment. He swore that he’d never show Y/N himself like this, even though he knows that she’ll love him still. 

“Choose a member of your team to die. You are all sinners in the end, but it’s time for you to choose who dies.” Raphael tells him, his voice booming, a stark difference from the nervous murmurs of Tobias. 

“No,” Spencer shouts. “Kill me, kill me instead!” 

“Choose or they all die!” Raphael yells. 

Think, Spencer. Think. He looks around at the shed, trying to think of an out. His eyes latch on to the shovel sitting in the corner of the room. That’s new, he realizes. A cemetery, a grave... 

“I choose Y/N,” Spencer says, not truly believing what he’s saying, but praying that she gets the message. 

“Why?” Raphael asks. 

“She’s prideful and careless,” Spencer reasons, trying his hardest to appear nonchalant. 

“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before the fall,” Raphael quotes. 

“Yes, John 14:27,” Spencer says. And with that his fate and Y/N is sealed. It’s funny in a twisted way, he always knows that his fate would be forever linked to hers, but not just in this way. 

“Come on, boy. Get up,” Raphael orders him. 

Spencer makes it to his feet and the pair make their way into the night. 

***

Spencer’s not sure how far he’s walked, but his feet are numb and he can’t feel anything in his arm. The inside of his arm is littered with marks, a constant reminder of the cravings he’s feeling. No, he tells himself. What he craves is Y/N. He makes his way up the rocky terrain of the cemetery, hoping that she’s on her way to rescue him, hoping that she’s there to wash away the dirt and kiss his scars. 

Raphael is at his side, pulling him along. It's a strange similarity to Dante and Virgil and their journey to the depths of Hell. Maybe in this scenario Spencer isn’t Dante, maybe he’s Beatrice waiting for his Dante to rescue him. 

“Please, I need rest. I’m exhausted,” Spencer tries to argue, but it’s no use. Raphael’s grip on his arm only tightens. 

“Keep moving,” 

They arrive at the cemetery. Spencer is not ready to die. He’s not ready to die and leave Y/N. He wishes he really did believe in God because maybe, maybe he wouldn’t be as scared as he is right now. 

“Dig,” Raphael tells him, tossing the shovel on the ground at Spencer’s feet. 

As if he’s shaking Death’s hand, Spencer reaches down for the shovel and starts to dig. Each deposit in the mountain of dirt is a cry for help. Each time he cracks his neck in pain or rubs his hands in exhaustion is a goodbye kiss for Y/N. 

Spencer stands to his full height. He’s nearly as tall as Tobias, somehow he still feels like a child. 

He suspects that Tobias feels the same way. Maybe one day Spencer will come to regret his choice. Maybe one day Spencer will be grateful that he reached into the very depths of his strength to fight to the very end. 

“Tell Tobias I’m sorry,” Spencer says, the tears flooding his eyes. 

Spencer bangs the back of the shovel against Tobias’s head. His limp body falls to the ground and suddenly he’s terrified that Tobias is somehow still alive. Spencer scrambles for the gun and pulls the trigger. He’s not even sure how many shots he fires but the body is punctured with bloody holes. Spencer, clutches are Tobias’s lifeless body. As if he can squeeze him back to life. 

He thinks he’s imagining it. He thinks that he’s on the brink of death. There’s a light, a soft yellow light beckoning him home. A voice calls out to him, clear and strong, it’s drawing him in and Spencer is crawling from his own grave to the voice that he could recognize anywhere. He’s teetering between Heaven and Hell. Y/N’s voice and light tether him home. 

“Spencer!” she calls. Finally, he thinks. Finally, she’s close; he lets himself believe he’s safe. 

“I’m here!” he shouts, surprised at the force of his voice. 

“Oh Spencer,” she says, running to him. 

She falls to the ground next to him. Spencer is scared that she’s not real, that it’s the drugs in his system again making him believe that she’s nothing but a cruel figment of his mind. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I knew you’d find me. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean it,” Spencer cries, his face tucked into the crook of her neck. 

“Shhh, baby. I’d find you anywhere. Hmm, let’s get you out of here. You are safe now Spencer,” she tells him softly. 

Spencer may not be a man who believes in God but he has to believe in Heaven, because Heaven is holding him in her arms. 

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 

[haechanhues]

ENHYPEN as Empathy Tracks (D.O)

pairing : enhypen x reader

genre : fluff.  very soft. 

warnings : - 

summary : since kyungsoo released empathy i’ve been listening to his tunes and linking them to enhypen members.    

Rose - D.O 

A new relationship 

Crush turned relationship :) 

Twiddling fingers, heart shaped pupils

‘I go to a local florist. No matter how hard I think about, which flower I want to give you. The only flower I know is a rose.’

I love this line so much. 

Imagine Jake’s little smile and going to the florist. 

‘With courage, carrying an arm full of flowers.’

‘You are prettier than a rose actually. I can’t express my feelings in words. Even though I look shy. And cheesy, I can’t help it. From today we are lovers.’

Doesn’t really need big gestures - tiny little things that keep the love alive in his heart. He feels what he feels and does his best to express it.

Sincerity in purest form. Maybe not quite knowledgable but very sincere.

Jake blowing his cheeks up as he nervously prepares himself to approach you. 

I’m Gonna Love You ft Wonstein - D.O 

Naturally in love

Because he is in love - he doesn’t know any different. Doesn’t necessarily know what it means not to be in love.

It’s just how it is.

‘Like drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. Like the sun rising, facing the west, It’s so easy to love you.’

Simplicity is best. 

‘Yeah, I’m gonna, I’m gonna love you. It’s like taking a breath. I’m gonna love. It’s so easy.’

Even though he may potentially struggle or the relationship will have setbacks, because that person is someone they love and too important to them, they’ll do their best.

‘I learn everything. I’ve been so foolish. Because of the way you smile. I’ll do my best for you.’

In it for the long run. 

Dedicated to the relationship. 

Prepared to fight through the inevitable setbacks in their relationship. Setbacks are normal. But nothing matters more to him than you. 

My Love - D.O 

‘We walk together through this night air. The temperature and weather suits you. The night sky, the starlight, your eyes. Everything I see with my eyes. That’s just my love.’

Imagine being on a walk with him, the night air doesn’t bother you and maybe he’s holding your hand, or your hands are in his pockets. Maybe you’re sharing a jacket or walking snuggled up with one blanket. Maybe you’ve got matching thick winter coats. 

He comes home from work or any other commitment that requires being outside or separated. 

You come home from work or any other commitment that requires being outside or separated. 

It’s tough work. You both feel like you need a nap but you agree to spend this bracket of free time to go on a walk together to enjoy each other’s company. 

(Before returning home and having a nap together) 

Even though may be busy and may be too tired, he’ll still love and is comforted by the relationship/love.

Spending time whenever possible despite conflicting/hard schedules.

Enjoyment in its purest form.

It’s Love - D.O 

Despite setbacks, wanting to be in love - wanting to feel comforted and understood.

Somewhat of an bright glow. 

Always working. Always having this energy or livelihood. 

‘My heart never sleeps. It’s a heart I’ve forgotten for awhile. Even if things always fall apart when I look forward to them. That is not the end. Turn the page one more time. It’s the coming love.’

‘It is a bigger world. Look at each other in the eye and hold hands. Grow old together. What makes me want to be together with you for the last time. Is that you are love’

Youth. 

Niki being a little nuisance - making sure you’re always spending the day well and making sure every little moment is worth it for your journal.

Every tomorrow is a new day. 

Opening up to other forms of love and opportunities. That they’re all around us.

Another chance.

Slightly sad. But not too much. A sad that will eventually or easily be comforted.

Dad - D.O 

Holding Dad’s hand

Memories - nostalgia

The realisation of space, time and self.

‘I walk slowly, following you. The dazzling sunset light is coming down. It spreads to that warm back. While you, who has been infinitely kind, ran non-stop. I was unknowingly growing up too.’

An appreciation of those around you. 

Those that you love dearly but are so normal to you that sometimes you forget how much they mean to you. 

‘I want to be more like you. To you, I’m still a child. I’m still learning life from you. So that your time is filled with more dazzling memories. I always try to face you and be with you. My father.’

‘You’ve endlessly looked strong. You’ve had to turn around and endure things alone. I became old enough to know a little about that.’

‘The sound of your bright laughter. With this beautiful night that grows deeper. It has been In my memory for a long time. That you and I are very similar.’

You watch three shadows walk along the path. 

One shadow belongs to Heeseung’s father who is a bit older but still manages to keep a good stride. Perhaps even better than the other two. He watches his son with love in his eyes because his son may be an adult now, he is still his baby. 

Another shadow belongs to Heeseung who stands tall and proud. Strong. But always looking around his legs. 

Because the third and final shadow is your own son who wobbles on his little legs and watches the world with curious eyes. He keeps a firm grasp on his dad’s legs, not wanting to be separated. 

‘An exceptionally starry night. I’m proud of you, you shine even brighter. More beautiful than the harsh world.’

Reliability.

The rock you leaned on in times of conflict or inner torment breathed too.

I’m Fine - D.O 

Nostalgia

‘The many memories and our fluttering hearts. Are they gradually disappearing from our memory?’

Fear?

‘How are you? How are you doing? Is it the day you’ve been hoping for? Like you asked me, I asked you. ‘I’ve been doing well.’ Without hesitating for a moment, I sincerely hope you tell me ‘I’m fine’…. With that phrase, me too, I’m fine.’

Wants to know what the other is thinking. Wants to be able to care about each other, to understand each other, to communicate innermost feelings. 

‘At the end of a long day. I’m gradually losing my way. I’ve been wandering all night, comforting myself. Seeing only the good things. Hearing only the good things. May I be filled with good thoughts.’

Doubts

Reflection.

Moments spent, flicking through your teenage journal with the widest smile on his face. 

You started dating when you were in high school and at the time wrote little entires in your diary with the thought he wouldn’t read a single world. 

But he spends the whole afternoon reading your words. The way you felt about him then, asking questions, smiling. You were in such a rush to try everything when you were younger but now-  

‘Before it’s too late, let’s try it together, one thing at a time. Don’t worry about things on your own. Don’t regret things anymore. Even the small wishes, one thing at a time, the two of us.’

Si Fueras Mia - D.O 

‘Everyday you wake up in my arms. I wake you up with little kisses filled with love. How nice we have it, you and I. And I sing you the songs that you like. Every lyric that I write is for you. But I only know you in my dreams, my love.’

‘Ooh, if only you were mine. The places I would take you to. To see you happy and to see you smile. There is nothing I wouldn’t do. I would give you the entire world in a second. If only you were mine.’

Crush?

‘I drown within your eyes and there is no salvation.’

Hope.

Daydreaming.

The promise to travel. To see the world when everything is all over. To experience things you’ve always talked about. When you can enjoy it wholeheartedly. 

It’s his gift to you. 

author’s note : went overboard with heeseung but now i’m like imagining dad!heeseung.