#and it’s actually still the 13th where i am but i work all day tomorrow

[lilly-chou-chou]

(Tw: s3icide and d3ath mention)

I actually do not know where to begin with this because his passing has impacted so many people around the globe. I hope his family, members and friends take as long time as it takes for them to heal from this. When things like this happen we realize how much we take life for granted, it really does make sense when people say things like "resolve things now, who knows if tomorrow you or them will live to see another day"

There are times when things are really difficult and you don't know what to do or how to reach out to others and I want you all to know that it is not your fault. You did your best.

As the years went by I never liked this saying "d3ad people recive more flowers than living" it really made me angry and infuriated me because it is was so unkind and horrible thing to say. I never saw things like that, I always saw it as "they were truly loved and cherished a lot that is why they're getting a lot of flowers" it doesn't matter how they passed on, I always believed that in after life they will get their desired peace and these flowers will build a path for them to look after their loved ones in a different way.

In the the topic of same light I did come across this tumblr post which said "no ones will care about him after few weeks, it always works like this people don't care" can we stop doing this? Because it's so horirble and absolutely worst thing to do. Fans and sometimes even people close to idols have no idea how they are actually doing, as I said Moonbin's situation was a huge shock to all of us. We will never forget about Moonbin, Junghyun, Sulli and Hara. We always remember him. To this every I can never forget 18th December, 13th October, 24th November and now 19th April. These are the dates that I still remember ever since they passed away.

Every year without fail on these days I always take a moment to remember them, we have never forgotten them, we still talk about them. When we talk about them instead of their passing we choose to talk about their happy moments they spent on earth, we choose to talk and discuss about their iconic jokes inside the fandom, their fashion sense, their amazing talents and how ever so they treated their fans and loved ones so kindly.

Talking about someone who has passed on isn't just limited to talking about their d3ath, their lives spent on this earth is also a topic we should talk about more. I still think about Jonghyun's that one video where his mum was calling him after concert and he ever so sweetly said "please wait mum, I am coming", Sulli's extravagant and beautiful loud laugh, Hara's mesmerizing stage presence and now Moonbin's debut with Astro, it's crazy how young Moonbin looked in Hide&Seek I still remember watching the MV when their debuted getting excited about debut of a new group and I couldn't keep off my eyes off of them, they all shined so well.

I hope now Moobin rests well after becoming a star in the sky, when you feel down just look up in the sky and I hope you know there are 4 stars are are shining bright and beautiful telling you "it's okay, don't worry there is always another day"

#astro #moonbin #jonghyun #sulli #goo hara #hara #kpop

[crazybigredlove]

13th August 2013

Dear Pete, 

Am drunk. Drunk letters. I'm a writer. How hard could it be? That's what she said. Bless spellcheck. 

Went to a barbecue tonight after that crap chat with Christopher. How very grown-up and boring of me. Next I'll be doing my taxes on time and remembering to floss more than once a month. 

The whole thing reminded me of a comment that Big Red had made on one of our dates about how none of his mates have barbecues or anything like that because they all live at home. That was not the first time it occurred to me that our maturity levels are separated by such a vast chasm that they actually may prevent this from progressing. Of course now that Christopher has highlighted that he is actually MIA and that I only have an interest in Big Red giving me attention rather than actually being interested in Big Red, there is a very real possibility that mentioning him at all is an epic waste of time. 

And by him I mean both of them because they're both dumbheads and they annoy me. 

Painfully suffering in loneliness and determined not to be the only single in a world of couples, somehow managed to convince your brother to come as my pseudo-date. We're not talking about what Simon said. I know he called Simon and I know the first thing Simon would've said was, "Shit, mate! Sorry but I may have told Liv something I wasn't meant to." Possibly not those exact words. Simon is a very rough bloke (and he's grown an impressive beard. I forgot to mention that yesterday) and probably said something a little more masculine and with a lot more swearing, but that would've been the general gist of it. 

Tonight was boring. The conversation raged on around us but I wasn't there. My phone was silent in my handbag. No one seemed to notice that I spent the entire time wanting to scream into it, "Why won't you spend time with me? What was it about me that made you change your mind?!" 

Note to self: Is highly likely that people in general will have a greater desire to spend more time with you if you don't constantly tell him how disappointed you are that they aren't behaving exactly the way you want them to. Seems likely that most people would much prefer spending time with a female who is actually fun. 

Second note to self: With each day that passes it seems much more likely that you are dealing with something way more deep- seated than struggling with having your ego bruised and you are going to end up looking like a fool here if you don't calm down and work out what the fuck is really happening in your head. That's a big sacrifice of self-esteem for a guy that - despite what Dan In Real Life might say - you can't possibly be in love with. 

Third note to self: I am rocking these jeans. Dayum. 

Your brother though. Good Lord. Despite my insistence that I was in no state for drinking or carrying on like a teenager, he seemingly was. All I'm going to say is that following the barbecue he insisted on heading out for a few more drinks, declaring it part of my "treatment". He's a medical professional; I trust him. 

His night can be summarised as such: a car crash, a wedding dress, a police chase, and a puppy who has now visited more pubs than most dogs do in a lifetime. It's all on Instagram if you're curious; it's a mystery how he hasn't spent more time in jail. 

Poor Buffy. I genuinely did have such noble plans to be a responsible dog owner but then while I was chatting casually to someone at the bar, Christopher takes off with my dog, only to reappear a time later with a significantly less hair-covered Buffy. 

The bastard shaved my dog. Where on earth did he find someone or somewhere to shave my dog at that time of night? 

On a positive note there were no stitches for me this time, but it may take me three days to recover from the pounding in my head which I anticipate will take-over my day tomorrow. Or today. What time is it? 

Tell me, if he didn't lodge the paperwork with the city or get a marriage license, would your brother's marriage still be valid? He says it's not, which is why he went through with it. As Best Man it was awkward to be standing there with that information and then not object at the appropriate time, but then probably having a female Best Man should've been a clear indicator that something was awry. Assured that the celebrant was actually just a college buddy of his and not at all qualified to be handing out happily ever afters but at this stage my extreme apathy interferes with my ability to care either way. 

Walking home with Buffy trotting ahead of us, I was blinking back tears. "You okay?" Chris wrapped an arm around which was much appreciated in the chilly early morning air. 

"No. I'm disappointed, you know?" I wiped away a tear. "In Pete?" Laughing bitterly I could taste the cold on my tongue. "No. I'm disappointed in me. In everything. In the decisions I've made, in how my life is turning out, in how I feel so out-of-control and all because one guy I didn't like that much chose a really crap time to not like me either. And Pete? Ugh! I always thought I was so cool, so fucking open-minded, and laidback. Turns out I'm only prochoice when it's not someone I know making that decision." Chris pulled me in closer and with the alcohol, the topic of conversation, and the freezing wind I was helpless to stop a few strays from escaping. 

"I know what you mean. I know it's wrong and it's not my call at all, but at first I couldn't help feeling like he made the wrong decision. Then I remembered. They told him he wouldn't even be able to have kids. When he got sick. The treatment..." "It probably wasn't even his." "We don't even know that there was a baby. Pete loved her, but Stace was known for spinning whatever tale she needed to get herself out of trouble. She wasn't exactly an upstanding and moral person at the best of times." 

"I just thought it would all be different, you know? That I'd be more and I'd be a better person and I'd be happier and whatever the fuck else I thought my life would be. But I'm just me. And it's fucking lonely." 

Christopher stayed silent. It wasn't uncomfortable or forced, he didn't try to fill the silence, but he didn't offer any comfort either and in that moment that was what I needed most. 

Eventually he stood and took my arm. "Come on. It's freezing." 

The Czech sent a message offering to drop by and I was definitely tempted. He's so hot. Ugh. Life would be so much easier if I was one of those girls who could just have sex without emotional attachments. 

This is going to hurt in the morning, isn't it? Your stupid brother. 

Liv x 

[lukewhitesuns]

Day 5: Touch-Starved

*shows up to the challenge five days late with a really obscure gen dynamic and a loose reading of the prompt*

@loving-fox-hours

tw: child soldiers, what initially looks like a suicide attempt, self-hatred

(AO3)

There's a youngling perched on the roof of the Galactic Museum, and Fox is exhausted.

No one reported this. Fox happened to be walking back to the barracks after a thirty-six hour shift, glancing up at exactly the right moment to spot a child idly dangling their legs over the side of the building, some ten stories up. Which means this is now his problem.

Lucky him.

What's one more cut away at his sanity? He doesn't need sleep; after what he did to Fives, he doesn't deserve it, either.

Still, he seethes as he stalks toward the building.

People refuse to behave on this kriffing planet. Everyone always has to race illegal circuits, or drunkenly brawl with each other, or cause lasting property damage for no other reason than they were bored. On the more excruciating days, there's even some explosions, attempted assassinations, and bounty hunters wreaking havoc. And who can forget the time a giant beast destroyed half of the upper city? Because that's definitely something Fox could prepare for. That was a fun experience.

Finding people where they're not supposed to be is tame by comparison, but it's still a waste of his already limited time. This kriffing kid, when he drags them out of here—

It's nearly nighttime, so the museum is closed, but there are still a few staff members loitering about. He barges in after the door gives easily.

"The roof," he says to the nearest guard. It's meant as an order, but resembles a sigh more than anything else since he no longer has the energy to slip into a commanding voice.

The man stutters a moment, then gathers himself enough to point. Fox is already moving. Too slow; he saw the lift himself. How did the Republic survive without the clones as long as it did?

He presses the button for the roof, and swipes his pass without even glancing at the access screen that pops up. Fifteen seconds later, he's stalking out onto the roof and directly toward the youngling's back with single-minded determination. It's past both their bedtimes, and Fox still has a mountain of paperwork in his office, and his patience was spent at least six hours ago. He's obviously not going to hurt the kid, but he's not past ordering their ass off the roof as rudely as possible.

As he approaches, the kid whips around, eyes widening. Fox does a split-second survey: male, redhead, approximately the age of a six-year-old brother, weighs almost nothing. Another problem: the robes, the braid in his hair, and the lightsaber clipped to his belt. He's a Jedi youngling, meaning Fox's job is now that much harder.

"Listen, I can explain—" a young, high voice begins nervously, once he's almost reached him.

Fox doesn't slow down until he's nearly level with the kid, centimeters away from the ledge, looming over him, arms across his chest. "Get. Up."

The boy stiffens, but doesn't otherwise move. His eyes are glued to where his legs are still kicking out over the edge.

"I know I'm not supposed to be here, but I couldn't stay there!" He bursts out. His voice wobbles at the end, and dread immediately settles heavy in Fox's chest.

Haar'chak, it's going to be one of those.

Why couldn't the kid just be a truant like the rest of them?

Who is he kidding, he should've realized what he was in for the moment he saw the lightsaber.

Resigned to his fate, Fox knows he has to tread very slowly with this. He loosens the intimidating posture and asks with a small sigh, "Where?"

"Th-the temple," he answers, as expected. "I don't—I can't—"

Please don't cry, please don't cry, he really doesn't know what to do with a crying kid and he's so tired right now.

To his guilty relief, after another moment the boy draws in a deep breath and straightens his posture. He glances up at Fox with embarrassment plain on his face, mouth open as though to say something, but then his expression shifts into one of surprise, then curiosity, then hesitance. His stare seems to pierce directly though his armor and trap him there.

Apart from Tano and Offee, who were both older and under arrest at the time, he has no experience with Jedi children. Are they all this strange?

When he speaks again, his voice is unnaturally even with forced calm. Still holding back tears, most likely. "You're a clone."

Fox doesn't see how this relates to dangling himself off a roof at dusk, but if it keeps him calm, there's no harm in answering. "Yes."

He frowns, digesting this, then tilts his head slightly. "So...did you want to go to war?"

The question is said cautiously, but still hits with the force of a gut punch, and is so random that for a long moment all Fox can do is stare. "What?"

"Did you want to go to the war?" he repeats. "Fight for the Republic on the front lines and everything?"

Is he mocking him for being stationed on Coruscant? His tone implies genuine curiosity, but he could be wrong. Either way, Fox has a job to do, and it gives him a helpful delay on such a loaded question.

"Here's the deal. I'll answer your question if you move away from the edge there." He knows there's no chance he'll be able to wrestle a Jedi child away from somewhere if they don't want to move, so he has to be diplomatic about this. As a peace offering, he degrades himself to sitting down on the rooftop a few meters away, despite the protests of his armor, and watches the kid expectantly.

The boy frowns at him, frowns down at the edge, then frowns at him again. "I can catch myself if I fall, you know," he says slowly.

But if he falls and he dies, that's on Fox. He doesn't say that, though. Instead he asks mildly, "Have you ever done it before?"

"Well, no, but I've practiced catching my friends when they fell off the climbing course. It can't be that much different."

Fox does not have time for this. "Sit here. Now."

Another round of staring, and the boy finally sighs and relents. "Fine." He plops down in front of Fox with none of the Jedi's renowned grace. "I'm Cal, by the way."

"Fox."

"That's a nice name," Cal replies, and despite it being the same rote response Fox receives every time he tells a nat-born his name, he's yet again struck by Cal's sincerity when he says it. "I never saw a fox before. Guess now I have." He grins sheepishly at Fox, as though expecting an eye roll behind his bucket; Fox sits there awkwardly, still at a loss of what to do or say, especially when the kid's gone from nearly crying to smiling in under two minutes. And people rarely ever smile at him, so this is disconcerting.

"So you said you'd answer my question..."

Right. That. He did say that, didn't he.

Is he actually going to confess this to a random child? He supposes he has to, since this is somehow important to why Cal was up here in the first place.

Fox chooses his words carefully. "I did want to go to the war. I'm a commander—commander of the Coruscant Guard, now, but my batchmates and I were all born to serve on the front lines, alongside Jedi Generals. It's in my genes. But someone was needed here, too, protecting the home front. My duty is to the Republic above all else, so I serve where I am needed. Which is here."

That's what he convinces himself to keep going, anyway, although lately Fox wonders if any of it was worth it.

Cal's expression turns melancholy again. While Fox was speaking, he tucked his knees under his chin and wrapped his arms around them. "I don't want to go. I'm twelve, and I'm a commander too." Freeing one arm, he gives an sloppy salute as his lips twist in a bitter smile. "Commander Kestis of the 13th Battalion, at your service. I ship out the day after tomorrow."

Fox stares. And stares. And doesn't say anything.

Then he makes a decision. He takes off his bucket. He never takes off his bucket, and says as much to Cal.

"Then why did you—?"

Because there's something poisoning the Galactic Republic, and I can finally admit it to myself, and suddenly I'm suffocating. Children going to war, brothers killing brothers, nothing ever changing. This is not what I was made for. But who can I even tell? What can I even do?

"Because you need to look at my face when I tell you this."

"Okay..." Cal says, bemused.

Fox takes a deep breath and forces himself to meet Cal's eyes unblinkingly, pushing as much gravitas as he can muster into both his voice and his expression. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

His own words twist his stomach into knots. Because Cal still has time. He still has a modicum of freedom left, and Fox realizes he wants the kid to survive, and not become what he's become. Fox is a brother-killer now. He's less than nothing, and still, he works himself to the bone for the duty he swore himself to as a youngling. He's trapped by the war, and he can't escape. He never had that option.

The exact meaning of his words confuse him, too. What is he saying? Is he offering to help Cal escape, if the reason he's up here is because he ran away? Or is it because he wants to prevent another senseless death, so soon after being the cause of one? Cal may be a Jedi, but he's so young. Even the most skilled Jedi masters have fallen in this war, so sending one with barely any experience seems rather like sending someone to be slaughtered.

This isn't what he expected to happen at all on this roof. He's talking to a kid he just met, trying to offer advice when, as Thorn puts it, he can barely hold himself together.

"No, I..." Cal hesitates. "I'm sure if I begged, they wouldn't make me. But I have to. It's my duty to the Republic. Like you said with your job," he adds, gesturing at him vaguely.

That was not what Fox meant. He opens his mouth to object, but Cal's already barreled ahead, speaking so fast the words almost tumble over each other.

"The youngest person they sent 'til now was fourteen, and they had arguments about her all the time—though Jedi arguments are more like 'who can be more passive-aggressive' competitions. They really don't want to send us, but there are so few of us left...it was just a calculation, I guess. Even though I'm young, I'm really good. That isn't even me trying to be mean to my crèchemates or anything, they're not bad Jedi at all, it's just that I've always had more of a grasp on the Force than some people. And I'm psychometric, which is when I can touch something and see things that have happened with it in the past."

"Like Vos." Fox scowls at the mere thought of him. He and this kid couldn't be any more different.

Cal narrows his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, like him, although he's not my master...anyway, I guess I'm saying...sending me is a better choice to end the war faster. The sooner we end the war, the sooner we can go back to being actual peacekeepers. At least that last part's what Caleb says. He's also going the day after tomorrow." He sighs and stares at his hands. "But I still don't want to go, even if I have to. I freaked out this afternoon and had to go somewhere a lot quieter to think. Which is why you found me here."

"Makes sense," Fox says, processing. That sounds like a reasonable reaction for a scared kid, actually. "You still plan to go, then?"

Cal hesitates, then nods. Fox's heart sinks, but he doesn't know what more to say. His mind's still reeling; he just learned more about the Jedi Order in a quarter hour than he ever learned about the Senate in two and a half years, and he has no idea what to do with the information.

"Well, you'll need to be well-rested then," Fox says after another moment, and giving exaggerated glance to the sky.

Night has fallen, and the sky is completely black with the pollution blanketing the stars. The buildings provide enough light to see, but sometimes Fox does wonder what the center of the galaxy looks like from the surface of a planet with an unencumbered view. If it's any different from the sparse pinpricks he saw from Kamino the few days there wasn't a torrential rainstorm.

He puts his bucket back on, stands, and beckons. "Coruscant's its own war zone sometimes, and trust me, speaking from experience, you'll need every minute you can get. Let's go. I'm legally obligated to return you to the temple."

Cal groans, but thankfully, stands and follows after Fox. “I have been here a long time, I guess. Honestly, I'm surprised Master Tapal hasn't sent after me. Maybe he just thinks I've been meditating in the 'Fountains. That's what we call the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

Since the museum lies just outside the Senate District, the walk is short. If Cal wanted to hide, he didn't do a very good job. Cal chatters away the entire time about everything but the war, clearly trying to keep his mind off it as long as he can. Fox indulges him, although it's not like he can get a word in edgewide regardless.

They're at the steps of the temple when Cal abruptly stops dead in his tracks.

"Cal?"

A questioning look to his side—stars, the kid barely reaches his waist—Cal appears lost in thought.

He's so busy trying to figure out what happened that at first he doesn't even process that the blur that crashes into him with superhuman speed a second later is Cal. When he does, he freezes, glancing down at the boy, who has wrapped both of his arms around his armor and is—inexplicably, given how small he is—squeezing hard enough that Fox can feel the warmth even through the plastoid. Either it's Jedi thing, or else Fox has finally, officially lost his mind.

Gently, he rests one hand on Cal's back to acknowledge the hug. He's too nervous to do anything more, partly because he doesn't want to...break him or anything, and partly because if he's too stunned to move.

When was the last time he was touched in a way that wasn't malicious? Months since he'd had a hug from his closer brothers because their sleep schedules hardly coincided anymore, and never, by a nat-born, because why would anyone ever hug a clone?

He'd almost forgotten what it feels like.

He's doesn't deserve it.

"Thanks," Cal mumbles, face pressed half into his armor.

"What for?" Because he has no idea. "I didn't do anything."

Cal pulls back and beams up at him. "Yes you did. You reminded me I still have a choice."

Even if he picked the choice he doesn't want? Even if he barely said anything to him? Why does he deserve a hug from a kid that just met him, who would probably hate him if he knew what he's done?

"And you were really nice and didn't make me feel dumb or anything," he continues, oblivious to the turmoil in Fox's head.

Children are kind without reason, and to people who don't deserve it, but Fox realizes he's still glad that this strange kid thought he was worth a hug.

Cal starts to move away, waving a little at him. "Bye, Fox. Next time I'm on Coruscant for leave I'll come say hi."

"Bye, Cal."

He turns around again a few steps up. "And don't worry, I didn't get any memories off the armor. Big parts of clothes usually count as a part of the person, for some reason, and people aren't objects."

Fox watches his form disappear into the temple and tries to convince himself he did everything he could. That Cal will actually survive to make it back to Coruscant. He hopes he will, but he knows as well as anyone that there's no guarantees. For all he knows, this is the first and last time he'll ever see him.

The next morning, after a miraculously uninterrupted sleep, Fox wakes with a newfound determination. The guilt remains, but it's muted. No longer consuming his entire existence. Now he has a plan.

He has to take his own advice. He may not have been given a choice to begin with, but now he has one because of Fives. Ignore the warnings, or listen. He's a person, not an object, and he shouldn't have something in his brain tagging him like glorified inventory.

The chip is coming out.

#commanderfoxweek #commander fox #cal kestis #my writing #star wars #tcw #the clone wars #jedi fallen order #jfo #this is probably horrible but i tried okay

[lawrenceop]

HOMILY for the Lord’s Ascension

Acts 1:1-11; Ps 46; Eph 4:1-13; Mark 16:15-20

At the end of St Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says: “Lo, I am with you always.” (28:20). And yet today we mark the ascension of Christ into heaven wherein, as St Luke recounts, “he was lifted up while they looked on, and a cloud took him from their sight.” (Acts 1:9) So it would be right to think that the Ascension of the Lord into heaven marks Jesus’s visible and bodily departure from us. The prospect of this had saddened the disciples but again and again, Jesus told them that this was necessary so that the Holy Spirit would come; so that he could prepare a place in heaven for us; and he assured them of his presence in the Church. Therefore, it doesn’t seem right to think that because Christ has ascended into heaven so he is thus absent, or gone, or distant from us. Rather, he has assured us that he will be with us always.

Hence St Luke tells us not that Jesus was taken away from his disciples, but rather that a cloud had taken him from their sight. In other words, Christ is no longer known nor discerned as being present to us simply through the senses. Rather, because he is now “seated at the right hand of the Father”, so his disciples, who once ate and drank and talked with him as with another human being, must now learn to seek him and come to know his presence in the same way that they would seek and know the eternal God. Thus the Acts of the Apostles tells us that the disciples returned to the Upper Room in Jerusalem and “All these with one accord devoted themselves to prayer, together with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his relatives”. (Acts 1:14) So, the first thing that the disciples do is to pray. For prayer is precisely how they shall now continue to communicate with the Lord Jesus.

Therefore, for all of us Christians, we seek the Lord and we know him and we can discern Christ’s presence and gracious action among us through prayer. Prayer, as the Catechism says, is “the raising of one’s mind and heart to God.” This is akin to the language of St Luke who says that Jesus was “lifted up” to God the Father. So, too, when we pray, which is always a work of God’s grace within us, we are being lifted up; we’re raised up in mind and heart to God. We pray that we will be united to God not just spiritually through prayer and through the Sacraments, not only in charity, which is excellent, but, moreover, we dare to pray that we will be united to God in body and soul just as Christ and Our Lady are.

For these are the wonderful truths of faith that we celebrate today. On the one hand the Ascension teaches us that, in faith, we shall still know and experience God’s presence among us: through prayer, through love of the things of the Spirit, through the Sacraments of the Church. But on the other hand, today’s feast teaches us to hope that our bodies, having been redeemed by Christ, will also share in his bodily glory in heaven. So we will hear in the Preface that Christ “ascended not to distance himself from our lowly state but that we, his members, might be confident of following where he, our Head and Founder, has gone before.” Therefore, by his Ascension into heaven, Christ has gives us Christians a promise of a bodily resurrection after death, and a bodily share in the eternal joys of heaven.

However, in order that we might long for these joys, and actually desire to be with God for ever, so we are urged now in this lifetime to foster a life of prayer. As the Catechism says: “the life of prayer is the habit of being in the presence of the thrice-holy God and [of being] in communion with him.” Through prayer, therefore, we become accustomed to being with God, to knowing his presence, and to being in communication with him. Prayer sharpens our spiritual senses, so to speak, so that we can better discern God’s presence and God’s ways.

The feast of the Ascension therefore marks the beginning of a time of prayer, nine days of prayer, a novena, to be precise. When the Lord told his disciples to pray for the gift of the Holy Spirit, he instituted the first Novena, thus teaching us that we must learn to pray, and we must altogether foster a life of prayer so that we can know that Christ, risen, ascended and glorified, is yet truly with us always, as he has promised. Like the apostles, therefore, we’re invited to pray a Novena with Our Lady, praying for the gift of the Holy Spirit. So, this year, as we English Dominicans prepare to launch a period of events and celebrations to give thanks to God for 800 years since the first Dominican friars came to England, we will be observing a Novena of prayer to the Holy Spirit, starting tomorrow. We invite you, our friends, our supporters, all those whom we serve, to please pray for us and with us too.

Christ says in the Acts of the Apostles that “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you.” And this power, this grace, these virtues make the apostles into great evangelisers, preachers of the Gospel: that God has drawn so close to us so as to redeem Mankind, and that God continues to be present through Christ’s holy Church to save, redeem, and embrace us. Thus we hear in St Mark’s Gospel that the apostles “preached everywhere, the Lord working with them and confirming the word by the signs that accompanied it.” (Mk 16:20)

Reading these two texts together is essential. For we can be tempted to activity and service and mission without prayer. But the Lord tells the disciples to gather first in prayer. For without prayer, we act merely on our own fallible impulses without first discerning the Lord’s presence, working with us. However, the other temptation is to just retreat into prayer, or liturgical splendour, or the comforts of academia, theological speculations, and other such Dominican pleasures. But the Lord has sent us forth on a mission, and so as a Dominican motto says, we must contemplate, and then hand on the fruits of our contemplation. In other words, our prayer empowers and serves a mission, and this is true not just for us English Dominicans in our 800th anniversary year, but moreover for every Christian. As Pope Francis said on Twitter today: “the Solemnity of the Ascension lifts our gaze upwards, beyond earthly things. At the same time, it reminds us of the mission the Lord has entrusted to us here on earth.”

Therefore, let us together, as God’s children, pray, and pray at all times. As Our Lady of the Rosary said to the shepherd children at Fatima on this day, the 13th of May, in 1917: “Pray the Rosary every day”. For through daily and frequent prayer, we are raised up to God in our affections and in our intellect. And then, being in communion with the Blessed Trinity in this way, we shall be empowered by the love of the Holy Spirit to be authentic witnesses of the Gospel, to “lead a life worthy of your vocation”, as St Paul says.

#prayer #Novena #Rosary #Holy Spirit #English #Dominican #jubilee #800 #anniversary

[ourimpavidheroine]

You always post your writing soundtracks. Mind sharing your top ten albums with us?

I actually laughed when I read this because I’m thinking of the Anon who complained that all of my music was OLD. I mean. I’m old! What did you expect?

Never mind me, I’m easily amused. Thank you for using the word album so I would not feel like Lady Danbury with my lethal cane.

Yes, sure I can do that! I don’t know that these are my forever and ever amen top ten, but they are the ones that are coming to mind right now. So.

Under a cut, it’s long. 

In no particular order.

Brutal Youth - Elvis Costello

My ex-husband was in love with Elvis Costello and who could blame him? The man is a genius lyricist. This is not one of his more commercially popular albums but I love every single track. (I also lined up at Ticketmaster in Oakland, CA when the man was touring in order to get tickets for my ex. I got there at midnight and spent the night, meeting a group of drag queens who were getting tickets to see Barbara Streisand. God, that was a fun night, we ate donuts one of them went on a donut run for and sang showtunes for hours. One of my favorite memories.) This verse, from Clown Strike, is one that has resonated with me since I first heard it.

Tell me what you want of me Or are you terrified of failure? You put on a superstitious face Behind all this paraphernalia We're not living in a masquerade Where you only have three wishes It isn't easy to see In a lifetime of mistaken kisses

Unrepentant Geraldines - Tori Amos

I remember the first time I heard a Tori Amos song. It was the summer directly after I’d graduated from college, I was driving my ex-husband’s car and Silent All These Years came on the radio and I was just fucking gobsmacked. I bought Little Earthquakes that day and haven’t looked back. I have all her albums. I am a big, big fan.

Unrepentant Geraldines, though. God. It came out the year before my wife died and it got me through her death. The song Weatherman is about a man losing his wife, and how he sees her in the nature surrounding him. 

And. 

No, sorry, I can’t write more about this, not right now. But I sing it to her sometimes. 

He is not a weatherman But his bride lies with the land And she will whisper to him I'll be dressing up in snow Cloaked in echo it's almost As if only Nature knows How to paint his wife to life With every season's tone "One more look from her eyes One more look can you paint her back to life"

Ray of Light - Madonna

This album got me through my divorce from my ex-husband. I’d go out every single day during my lunch hour, this on my walkman, and walk and walk and walk until I got myself in enough control to go back and finish my work day. It’s a great album and I still listen to it a lot. It empowers me. And then my daughter was born and Ray of Light has always been her song to me, even though that wasn’t the song on the album that Madonna herself wrote for her daughter.

Faster than the speeding light she's flying Trying to remember where it all began She's got herself a little piece of heaven Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one And I feel like I just got home And I feel And I feel like I just got home And I feel

Seven and the Ragged Tiger - Duran Duran

This one was a difficult choice. For one thing, I really love their album Big Thing, which almost nobody’s heard about but one I love deeply. This one though...I think it’s the memories, including going to see them at the Oakland Coliseum with my cousin during their tour for this album and finding out they were partially filming the video for The Reflex that night. I like to think of us as being one of those girls in the audience. (Although I wasn’t screaming. I am a Capricorn. Have some dignity.) Duran Duran were responsible for my first fanfic and I’ve had a love for them since my Dad bought me their first album for my 13th birthday. I am nothing if not loyal. I have all of their early albums, all of their 12″ singles, too, including Secret Oktober, which I have always loved with a passion.

Also, Roger Taylor can still get it.

Freefall on a windy morning shore nothing but a fading track of footsteps Could prove that you never been there Spoken on a cotton cloud like the sound of gunshot taken by the wind And lost in distant thunder racing on a shining plain And tomorrow you'll be content to watch as the lightning plays along the wires and you'll wonder

Touch - Eurythmics

Another band I still love and listen to on the regular. Annie Lennox could sing me the telephone book and I’d be thrilled. Seeing her at age 14 in the Sweet Dreams video for the first time in my Grandmother’s living room quite literally woke something in me that led to moving across the world for a woman years later. (GOD.) I have all of their albums and choosing a favorite is difficult but this one won by a narrow margin, if only for the song Regrets, which is one of the songs that describes me until I became a mother, really. Like I RESONATED with that song. Still does in certain ways, if I am being truthful to myself.

I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I'm an electric wire And I'm stuck inside your head

Combat Rock - The Clash

Ah, teenage Impavid first understanding that music can also be political. Listen, I didn’t know much about what was going on outside of my own miniscule sphere - I was young and the internet didn’t exist yet. We got what news we got from our local paper and TV stations and they weren’t really reporting on what was happening in the world, not in 1982, let me fucking assure you. I got this album because my Dad was a part time DJ at a radio station that played mostly country music and the general manager of the station would just toss the rest of the non-country albums they’d get as promotions. My Dad would bring them home to me to listen to. You can imagine thirteen year old me listening to this album that opened with “This is a public service announcement - with guitars!” going WHAT THE FUCK? Let me just say there were a lot of trips to the library to read various newspapers after that.

Not to mention Rock the Casbah. What was a muezzin? I had no idea. I spent half a year reading books about Islam, about the Middle East and Northern Africa, which led to a curiosity about other religions beyond the Roman Catholicism in which I’d been raised, about other cultures as well. This album and The Color Purple by Alice Walker were the two things in my teen years that woke me the fuck up.

Now the king told the boogie men You have to let that raga drop The oil down the desert way Has been shakin' to the top The sheik he drove his Cadillac He went a' cruisin' down the ville The muezzin was a' standing On the radiator grille

Synchronicity - The Police

This fucking album. This fucking album. This album reached deep down into me and pulled out my soul and kicked it around for awhile. Every single song on this album hit me like a brick wall. Still does. Most likely always will.

Listen, you either like King of Pain or you live it. There’s no in between.

There's a little black spot on the sun today It's the same old thing as yesterday There's a black hat caught in a high tree top There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop I have stood here before inside the pouring rain With the world turning circles running 'round my brain. I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign, But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...

Sign O’ The Times - Prince 

The soundtrack to my University days. Jesus, it starts out with “In France a skinny man died of a big disease with a little name,” and it just keeps going. Pain, sex, wonder, glory, politics, love. It’s all there. I wore the vinyl out on this one. Amazing, amazing album. In fact, I still play it so often my kids practically know it by heart, and they don’t even like Prince!

To this day I think If I Was Your Girlfriend is the sexiest song ever written.

I will tell you this much: Sayuri’s main writing soundtrack song is Starfish and Coffee off the album, the same song I used to sing my kids as a lullaby. This should tell you a lot about her.

Cynthia wore the prettiest dress With different color socks Sometimes I wondered if the mates where in her lunchbox Me and Lucy opened it when Cynthia wasn't around Lucy cried, I almost died, U know what we found? Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam Butterscotch clouds, a tangerine And a side order of ham If U set your mind free, honey Maybe you'd understand Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam

Nina Simone Sings The Blues - Nina Simone

This was one of my Daddy’s albums. He loved it and so did I. As a child I just loved the sound of her voice - something in it both soothed me and pulled at me, made me want to run and just keep running. She still makes me feel like that. If you don’t know Nina Simone I urge you to change that, right now. There’s nobody at all like her. She’s irreplaceable. All of her material is good, not just her blues songs. Not to mention, she was an absolute brilliant genius at the piano, never mind the strength she had as a Black woman in a time when doors were shut in her face on a daily basis. Seriously. Read about her.

When I became a woman, of course, her songs took on a much deeper meaning for me, one that I could relate to. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good album, though? One that stays with you and changes with you? I think so.

If you’ve never heard her cover of I Put A Spell On You then do yourself a favor and go right now and listen. You’re welcome.

Oh and Buck from this album? Nuo to Wing, right there.

Also one of the sexiest songs ever written, this one. Especially how she sings it. The Hot Frenchman (have I ever told you about The Hot Frenchman? no? OH BOY THERE’S A STORY) told me he thought it was about drugs and I was like, honey, this tells me a whole lot about you, more than you probably wanted it to.

I want a little sugar In my bowl I want a little sweetness Down in my soul I could stand some lovin' Oh so bad I feel so funny and I feel so sad I want a little steam On my clothes Maybe I can fix things up So they'll go Whatsa matter Daddy Come on, save my soul I need some sugar in my bowl I ain't foolin' I want some sugar in my bowl

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got - Sinéad O’Connor

This is a beautiful album, full of pain and joy, her hallmark. She sings every single word with everything in her; she’s far too intense for many, many people (and while she’s been open with her mental health struggles I’ve often wondered if she isn’t somewhere on the spectrum as well) but never for me. Her raw honesty has always appealed to me. She’s political, she’s a lover, a mother, a survivor of horrific abuse, someone who keeps reinventing herself as a way to find her way through pain. I always feel, when I am listening to her music, that I am bearing witness. I’m not afraid of pain; I’ve survived it as well. This album, one of her oldest, is still my favorite.

The line “You used to hold my hand when the plane took off” is the most evocative lyric I have ever heard with regards to the ending of love. It’s a punch to the heart - she felt it and she shared it with us, her fragile heart in her palms. Oh, Sinéad.

This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody's office I'll talk but you won't listen to me I know what your answer will be I know you don't love me anymore You used to hold my hand when the plane took off Two years ago there just seemed so much more And I don't know what happened to our love

#personal #favorite albums #long post #Anonymous

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Catty Noir

It would be very unlucky for you if you read my diary.

August-13th-CURRENT MOOD-WHINY

I wanted to go to the maul today but I remembered I had a press conference. Well, my iCoffin remembered for me. I would have just as soon forgotten it. I really don’t like press conferences very  much. I can’t really have a “bad day” when the cameras are on me, because I know it will be all over the internet gossip sites before the presser is even over. Of course that happens when I’m having a good day, too. Okay, gotta stop writing and get out my lucky press conference shoes. Since I’ve been wearing them I haven’t made any gossip worthy mistakes. I wonder how many more times I can wear them before the luck runs out? Gotta go.

The luck of the shoes held out! In fact, they held out so well and in such a big way, I might retire them. We lost power to the press conference. No lights-no camera-no action. It was eerie epic.

Back to my whine - So, most of my frustration with the gossip sites - yes, I’m moving on from the press conferences - is that I’m just a ghoul who likes to perform and sing, that sometimes I’m cranky when I don’t get enough sleep - okay, all the time when I don’t get enough sleep - ,that sometimes I get crushes on boys, that I dress the way I do not because I want to draw a crowd but because I like the styles I wear. Of course I can’t ever say any of this publicly, or the monster press will call me “spoiled”, “shallow”, “aloof” or “difficult”. I remember when this used to be fun. Yes, I know, millions of ghouls would love to trade places with me, and when I’m on stage I do forget everything except the fans and the music, and I’m sure that tomorrow I’ll feel completely different... or not. I can’t decide right now... *sigh*... what’s wrong with me? Blah - I need a nap.

September-13th-CURRENT MOOD-EXCITED

Lucky me! Just go my finalized concert schedule, and it looks like I’ll be closing out the year by doing shows in Londoom, Scaris, Boolin, Weresaw and Barceluna! My manager thinks they’ll all be sold out shows. Hopefully, I’ll get to do some fright seeing, too. I’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Terror lit up at night and take a tour through the Terror of Londoom. I won’t get my hopes up though, because my schedule is usually packed tight. Oh well, at least I’m getting the chance to go and meet some new creepy cool fans. 

October-13th-CURRENT MOOD-CAUTIOUS

I started thinking last night about how many shows I’ve done since I started performing, but it’s pretty unlucky to count certain things, so I stopped. It’s a lot though. I was in my first talent show when I was only seven. I don’t remember all the details as well as my parents do, but I have no trouble remembering the crowd at the little theatre jumping to their feet and cheering when I was done. Even then it made all my fur stand on end. Still does. I definitely remember when I was twelve and the limoscream pulled up into our driveway to take us to the finals of the national show where I got runner-up; well, it’s all been a blur since then. Lately, though, I’ve been wishing I could have a “normal” unlife, whatever that means...

I was living in the shadows,

A creature of the night,

Afraid that if you knew me

You’d be paralyzed with fright

But the moment that you saw me

You smiled and didn’t run,

Took my hand and gently pulled me

From the shadows to the sun.

Chorus

I’ve only wished forever

To find a friend like you,

Someone to look within the monster

And see a heart that’s true.

Now places that I used to haunt

Are so very far away,

And I’m never going back to them

‘Cause you’ve shown me it’s okay

To live life in the open

Where everyone can see,

‘Cause the thing that I was hiding

Is the thing that makes me me.

Chorus

I’ve only wished forever

To find a friend like you,

Someone to look within the monster

And see a heart that’s true.

To see a heart that’s true

To see a heart that’s true

December-13th-CURRENT MOOD-FRUSTRATED

I’ve completely lost my voice. The doctor said that I have “vocal exhaustion” and we’ve had to cancel the concert in Barceluna. I could actually feel my voice going in Weresaw during the second encore, and I should have chosen something a little easier on my throat, but because the energy from the crowd was so clawsome and because they were chanting “MCR-MCR-MCR”, I sang it. I feel terrible about Barceluna, but nothing that reading the news couldn’t make worse. There’s a report from an “unnamed source” saying I canceled the concert because the concert promoter wouldn’t paint my dressing room in my lucky color. I have a lot of superstitions, but none of them involve the color of my dressing room. To make matters worse, I’m not supposed to talk at all so my vocal cords can rest up. Right, I wouldn’t mind giving the whole music business a rest. When did it stop being fun and turn into work?

January-13th-CURRENT MOOD-NOSTALGIC

For the first time in the past six months I got to sleep in my own bed last night. It was really nice, and I felt like the luckiest ghoul in the world to be surrounded by all those little things I used to take for granted but that make home special. Things like the squeaky door to my bedroom that I would never let my dad fix because it was my “intruder alert”, or the soft yellow quilt my grandmother made for my seventh birthday; the one I cried about when she gave it to me because I thought that yellow was my unlucky color, but now the quilt is one of my favorite things in the whole world. Or how the thirteenth slat on the blind that covers my street facing window is bent just enough so that the light from one of the streetlamps comes through at just the right angle for me to lie in bed and make shadow puppets on the wall. I think most of all I just like that it’s quiet, because on the road it never is.

March-13th-CURRENT MOOD-EXCITED

Last night I have a small surprise concert... Well, not surprise, I guess, since we’d been leaving clues to where it would be online. Anyway, a group of ghouls from Monster High came backstage after the concert, and I know they thought they were hanging out with me, but I think it was the other way around. I can’t explain it, but I really felt a kinship there. One of them was a clawsome surfer ghoul named Lagoona Blue. She told me that she wished I could come and play at Monster High, and I told her if she had any extra lying around that I wouldn’t mind having that wish come true :). We exchanged emails, and as I watched the ghouls leave, part of me wanted to leave with them. It’s hard to have friends in this business, at least ones you can count on. 

April-13th-CURRENT MOOD-RELAXED

I’ve been reading this new book, all about the mysterious disappearance of the last queen of the vampires. Her name was Elissabat, and on the day of her coronation 400 years ago she simply walked away and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. I guess the story is interesting to me because from the outside it’s hard for any monster to imagine walking away from the fame and glory of being a queen. I can’t say that I am the same position by a long way, but sometimes unlife is a lot different when you’re on the outside looking in. I remember talking to a fellow teen scream star Veronica Von Vamp about this when we were doing a music video together. She said that sometimes monsters envy other monster’s unlife because they imagine it’s perfect, even though unlife never is, so when the monster that’s living that “purrfect” unlife chooses to leave it behind to do something else, no explanation is ever satisfactory. “So don’t waste a lot of effort trying,” she said. “It just takes time away from doing what you want to do.”

May-13th-CURRENT MOOD-EXPECTANT

I’ve been talking to my mom and dad about giving up being a touring performer for a while, and today I made my decision. I still want to sing because I love it, but I also want to be in one place long enough to have friends and do things that a “normal” ghoul gets to do. My parents told me they would support me, but I needed to finish out the final concert dates on my schedule because I had already committed to them. I agreed, and so I will. I know this isn’t going to make much sense to any monster but me, and I know that my next press conference is going to suck the luck out of every charm I have, but it’s what I want to do. I will be enrolling this fall as a student at Monster High, and I’ve talked to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood about doing a final concert there. I’m going to need some extra luck to make it happen, though. Wonder if some monster has an extra wish they’re not using?

#monster high #monster high diary #13 wishes #catty noir

[dailyaudiobible]

08/19/2021 DAB Transcript

Esther 4:1-7:10, 1 Corinthians 12:1-26, Psalm 36:1-12, Proverbs 21:21-22

Today is the 19th day of August, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I’m Brian it is wonderful, truly wonderful to be here with you today, as we come together around the Global Campfire to take the next step forward together and that next step will lead us back into the book of Esther which we began yesterday and will conclude tomorrow so it's, it's a short story but it's a powerful story with a ton of drama in it. As we saw sort of shaping up yesterday. So, we saw how Esther became Queen. We learned that her actual Hebrew name is Hadassah and she has not revealed her ethnicity that she is a Jewes and the Queen. And, we also met Hayman who intends to absolutely kill every Jew in the Persian Empire. We also learned of Esther's uncle who raised her and his name is Mordechai and he spared the king's life once, he uncovered a conspiracy against the king and he is an official but he will not bow down and pay reverence to Haman. And so, the king, under Haman's influences, has issued an edict that the Jews on a certain day will be purged and Mordecai is just finding out about this. And that's where we pick up the story. Esther chapters 4 through 7 today.

Commentary:

Okay, so obviously the drama continues in the book of Esther and so the antagonist Haman now everything's kind of come into the light and well, he's no more, and we will conclude the book of Esther tomorrow because even though Haman is…is no more the directive that was sent throughout the Empire and sealed with the royal seal well there’s still a day of doom in front of the Jewish people where they're supposed to be annihilated and that can't be undone. It was a royal edict. And so, that's gotta get sorted out and we’ll work through that in tomorrow's reading.

And then today we read from first Corinthians chapter 12, which obviously precedes 1 Corinthians chapter 13. 1 Corinthians chapter 13 is a very famous chapter in the Scriptures, known as the love chapter where Paul describes what love is and what love does and how it behaves and so we’ll get to that. But setting that up is what Paul is doing right now and he is answering some questions. So, 1 Corinthians 12 begins, “now concerning what you wrote about the gifts from the Holy Spirit.” So, that one sentence we know that they had written to the apostle Paul for instruction on how the Holy Spirit works and what the Holy Spirit does. And that's…that's still a question among a lot of people until today kind of depending on the type of congregation you worship at, a primary of prominence is given to certain aspects of the Holy Spirit, or were told to seek as many of them as we can get our hands on, I guess, as many as we can achieve or as many as we can ask for that God might use us or certain gifting's put people in front of other people and so kind of in the natural order of our culture elevates them as it may be more than we who are less than, who don't have that particular gifting that is super noticeable and so we look at the super noticeable gifts as something more important or something more desirable. Paul kinda dives into that and we just read the 12th chapter 1 Corinthians, and go back and re-read and kind of digest the essence of what Paul is saying is let's talk about the Holy Spirit. For starters, the Holy Spirit could never curse Jesus and somebody without the Spirit could never confess that Jesus is Lord. That's just like a little rule of thumb that’s like this little thing to carry around that he's giving them so that they have this initial, just observations, little tool to start with. And then he goes further by explaining there are different kinds of spiritual gifts and they all come from the same Holy Spirit. There are different ways to serve the Lord. There are different ways to serve his people. But however, his people serve the Lord, there is only one Lord to serve so, the Lord is being served. I quote Paul, “the Spirit's presence is shown in some way in each person, for the good of all.” So, in other words, there are plenty of gifts that the spirit brings to serve the Lord, to serve God's people and to facilitate the body. Some are more visible than others, but all are necessary and none are more important than any other one. And that's when Paul then starts describing what we know as the body of Christ and the reason that he's using that analogy is that there are many gifting's from the Spirit because there are many parts of the same body, and using the analogy of the body makes it really clear. Some parts are more visible than other parts. Some need modesty. And I can't say to an ear, I don't need you, a hand can't say because I'm not a foot I’m not part of the body; none of these things are true. The body is made up of all kinds of parts, all of them are needed to make all whole body and if one part is hurting every part suffers. So, as we are being led into the love chapter, we are being told nobody's more important than anybody else. We are all in this together. In fact, if we aren't all in this together, then that's a humongous problem because we are all part of one body empowered by one Spirit. This is a really, really wonderful to move through this territory and it’s stuff that we might feel as if we kind of already know, like, cause this isn't something that's obscure in the Scriptures. These concepts are, you know, fundamental Christianity. And yet, let's just take one step back and now let's take another step back and another and another, so that we can back away from this for a second and ask ourselves, just because I know this does not mean that this is how I live or am I constantly in a game of comparison with somebody else's gifting's or somebody else's part of the body and collectively are we doing this, like, are we all always dissatisfied with the part of the body that we are, so that we have to constantly look at another part and wish that that could be our story. Or, are we lucky to be here? Are we fortunate? Has God given us grace and mercy to include us in what he's doing? So much so that we are a part of his body, part of God's body upon this earth, we are the flesh and bone. We are the Jesus with skin on. We are very fortunate to be here at all. Paul's going after stuff that goes, that was going on in the church in Corinth, but it's always been going on this game of comparison. Whose more gifted than somebody else and whose more visible than somebody else and what do I got to do to have that many followers. What’s the magic? I cannot literally, cannot tell you how many times that question has been asked to me. And I, for 16 years have been scratching my head to answer that question because I don't know. I feel lucky or fortunate or blessed to be here at all. And so, every day is a day of wow, wow we get to do this together. But I cannot tell you how many times I've taken meetings from people who’ve even flown to Nashville, I’ve stopped taking these kinds of meetings long ago, but at the end of the day, it wasn't really the Daily Audio Bible stories that people wanted to know, it was “what was the secret sauce?” What was the secret, what was the magic? What was the thing? How can that be replicated? How can I get a following? How can I build a platform? And to those questions, I have to say well, I mean, there's ways to do it with…with the methods of our culture. Start building something. This is what we do, we start building platforms so that we can get higher and higher and higher above the noise. And so, we can be seen in so that we can have a platform from which to say things. And I'm not so sure that's how it works in God's kingdom. Seems like the first place to start is wow, wow I'm invited to be included in this body. Wow, what did I do? How did this happen?  I get to be a part and partner with God on anything. How did that happen? I'm so fortunate. Like, that's the place to start. And Paul’s giving language, spiritual language to those concepts in the book of 1 Corinthians chapter 12 today. As we move toward the 13th chapter, tomorrow.

Prayer:

And so, Father, let's, we just want to stay in that place of wow, You even know who we are, You even know how many hairs are on our head. You actually know about us more than we know about ourselves and You have loved us despite the things that we have gotten ourselves into, and have included us. And so, often we are a part of something but we want to be a different part, we want to be, we want to be more visible or we want to be over here. We want to be that or we want to have that gifting. Father, we’re sorry, we’re sorry like, that's acting kind of like a selfish little kid and sometimes we get glimpses of this and how we behave toward You. Sometimes it comes upon us that maybe it's time to grow in this area. Maybe we should grow up and that seems to be the invitation here. We don't need to be compared and we don't need to compare ourselves because we are uniquely placed in Your body. There is no one else that can fill this space. Thank You for letting us be here at all. Help us Holy Spirit to focus on the good that is being done collectively, rather than us trying to carve out some place where we can be seen and celebrated and worshiped for doing what all of us are doing, which is simply serving and loving You and by extension, loving the world around us, so the light can shine into the darkness. Come Holy Spirit into this we pray, in the name of Jesus we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

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And as always if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the Daily Audio Bible app from wherever you are in the world. But there are a number of numbers that you can call depending on where you are in the world as well. If you are in the Americas 877-942-4253 is the number to call. In the UK or Europe 44 2036 088078 is the number to dial. And if you are in Australia or the Lands Down Under 61 3 8820 5459 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today, I’m Brian, I love you and I will be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Prayers and Encouragements:

Good morning family this is Pathfinder and I’m calling for prayer for a family member. We call him Uncle Jean. Uncle Jean has been a deacon for 35 years and he’s certainly been in the valley a lot over the last 5 or 6. He lost his wife to ALS, he lost his son to ALS, he lost another daughter to ALS, he has a daughter who has tested positive for the ALS gene and he has two other children that are not getting tested. He, being a deacon for bode the services for his wife and his two children. Recently, he fell, he’s 88 years old, broke a hip, was in rehab. And then they found this huge tumor in his arm. Actually, they found it back when COVID started and they just didn’t do anything about it because they didn’t want him in the hospital because of his age, his frailty. But they finally did an MRI last week and they had to amputate his arm. Him and his family need your prayers. His remaining children are strong and are helping him. I’m praying but as I pray, I still got these questions in my mind as why is this happening to this poor family. And so, I figured I’d turned to the experts in prayer to help me with this. Thank you DABers, I love you all, I pray for you all the time. Thank you.

Hello everyone this is Lualan in China just calling in, outside of my comfort zone to pray for people with mental illness. There’s been a lot of requests like that recently specifically for Quiet Confidence and for LJ Lavender Dream. Lord, we come to You and we lift these people up to You. Please be with Quiet Confidence give her peace, give her assurance of her salvation. So that she can come to You. Be with Lavender Dreams son, it’s hard when you’re in a mental hospital and you don’t’ want to be there. You feel like people have betrayed you, abandoned you. Help her son to know that she isn’t doing that, she’s doing it because she loves him, to protect him. Be with her, give her strength and peace.

Hi Daily Audio Bible family. This is Renzo in Florida and I just want to pray that I heard for, I just want to pray for Jonathan in Denver. Father God, just please pray for Jonathan in the name of Jesus that Jonathan would just be healed on this pornography addiction God. And please help him to remember that there’s no competition on who’s a better believer, we’re all saved by grace. And I was addicted to pornography one time myself. But God completely healed me of that. I’ve been healed from that for two years now and I just thank God for everything. One thing I always remember is no matter your age God can heal you of anything. Don’t…don’t feel, don’t get down on yourself, don’t discourage yourself. Keep walking the word, keep engrossing yourself in Scripture. Keep, like you said, bathing in the Scripture, that’s so important. And God, just please let him to just keep having that fire for You God. Even if the progression is slow, it’s the same thing for me too, it was slow at first. But God, You healed me. And, like it says Joy will come in the morning. And God, we just thank you for everything you do. In Jesus name we pray, Amen. Have a blessed rest of your day guys, Jesus loves you.

Hey, this is Jerry calling from Duluth, Minnesota. With a heavy heart today. Last time I called, I think, called regarding our third daughter who is bipolar, drunken and suicidal in the middle of the night. Well, now she’s pregnant with an abusive alcoholic partner. Who, once he found out that she’s pregnant, he took off out of town. So, she’s alone, pregnant, broke, barefoot as they say. Alone. And hurting and has seemingly messed up her life now for the rest of her life. As a parent you don’t know what to do. She, five years ago, was doing very well. She was getting her masters degree, teaching. Then bipolar started to manifest itself. Four years ago, her husband abused their oldest daughter so she left them and started living a incredibly promiscuous lifestyle. Now, is reaping the consequences of it. Appreciate your prayers for a situation that has no easy answers. Thanks. Bye.

Happy Sunday DAB family. It’s August 15th my name is Michael and I’m a first time call in, so to speak. I want to thank you all for responding to prayer requests, it has been so uplifting these last few weeks. As the Lord has brought me back to the DAB app to have that constant word, thank you Brian. And the constant prayers and answers to prayers that are coming through with your responses. I’m asking for prayer for my family. Again, my name is Michael and my child Kirin is 17, biological male and yet struggling with gender dysphoria, depression, anxiety and recently diagnosed with autism. DAB family, I implore you to pray for my child. That he would turn back to the Lord of his upbringing. To embrace Christ as he is walking down a path that we don’t agree with and don’t understand fully. Pray for my child DAB family. Thank you.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirteen

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 13th, 1998

“You need a real job, Remy,” his mother told him, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Remy felt crushed. He had just gotten his first job as a barista at a local coffee shop, shouldn’t Mom be happy for him? “This is who was hiring, Mom,” he said. “No one wants a summer intern who’s not even out of high school.”

“Well, I suppose it’ll do for now,” Mom said. “But you can’t expect to do that forever.”

“I know,” Remy said, nodding. “But this is a good start. It’s something to put on my resumé and it’ll give me a little cash to spend, so I don’t have to ask you and Dad for a loan.”

That worked just like Remy hoped it would, and his mother nodded in approval at him. “Good for you, then,” she said with a smile. “This is a big step for you.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile, even as he thought, Why couldn’t you see that in the first place?

  December 16th, 2000

“It’s official!” Remy exclaimed, walking up to Emile and hugging him. “I dropped out of college!”

Emile laughed and hugged Remy back. “Now that you’re not going to school, what will you be doing?” Emile asked.

“I’m working at a second coffee shop now,” Remy explained, “It’s something I’m good at and if I’m good enough I could get promoted to manager.”

“That’s great, Rem,” Emile said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, I just feel...freer, you know? Like I could do anything! I knew all the stuff they were teaching me in business school, so maybe if I get good enough at making coffee I can start my own shop. That’d be cool, don’t you think?”

Emile smiled. “That sounds exactly up your alley,” he agreed. “Especially the manager part.”

“I know. Like, that would never happen at Starbucks, but this is a slightly smaller, local chain. Like, only really in this state sorta thing. Still big, but not huge, you know? If they like me, if I can make them like me, I could get paid more with the promotion and quit the Starbucks job entirely.”

“And the paperwork came through in the mail today, huh?” Emile asked, rounding Remy to get a closer peek at the letter Remy was holding.

“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “They told me I didn’t have to go to class after Monday, which was a relief because there was supposed to be a huge test yesterday and it no longer impacts my grade, because I have no grade anymore! I’m free!”

Emile laughed, and Remy grinned. “Well, then, Mister ‘Free Man,’ what are you going to do to celebrate this occasion?”

“I want...to go clubbing,” Remy said. “There’s a club on the outskirts of town I’ve wanted to go to for weeks, but I never got around to it. But tonight, I have a little bit of spare money and no worries, and I want to go clubbing.”

“Sounds like a plan, I guess,” Emile laughed. “You can have fun with that.”

“I’m dragging you along, you know,” Remy said. “It’s eleven, we can have dinner and then head out.”

Emile blinked in shock, and Remy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course I’m taking you with me, you have the car.”

“Oh, you want to use me for my car. Nevermind, I completely understand now,” Emile said, words dripping sarcasm.

Remy shoved him playfully and Emile grinned. “You seriously want to go to a club, you’re gonna need a fake ID, you know,” Emile said.

“Nah, that’s the great thing about this club: they allow people under twenty one, you’re just not allowed to buy alcohol. I can get all the cute boys to buy me drinks,” Remy said with a wink.

“Right, because that will end so well,” Emile said, rolling his eyes and wrapping an arm around Remy’s shoulders. “I’ll make us both sandwiches and then we can try the club, okay?”

“Sure. Hey, where were you all day, anyway? You never arrive home after ten,” Remy said.

“I was visiting my parents, remember?” Emile asked. “Just took the day to drive down there, and headed back here starting at like...I dunno, nine? I didn’t eat a whole lot at dinner, though, and you’ll need food in your stomach when you decide to get pretty boys to buy you drinks, so sandwiches it is.”

“Cool. Also, you’ll need to change,” Remy said, guiding Emile inside the house. “I don’t care how cozy your sweater is, you’re gonna get hot, and you’re not gonna get in if you wear that. We’re getting you some new threads.”

“Okay,” Emile said in that voice that Remy knew meant Emile was just humoring him.

Nevertheless, while Emile made sandwiches, Remy raided Emile’s closet and pulled out an outfit that would actually pass for cool. Skinny jeans, and a faded white band T-shirt. Remy tossed a pair of plain socks on the bed and placed Emile’s sneakers at the foot. He walked out. “I’ve got an acceptable club outfit for you on your bed,” he said, smirking. “And it involves those skinny jeans you insisted you’d never find a use for.”

Emile groaned but passed Remy a sandwich, which he immediately tore into. “I’ll get changed,” he allowed. “But you had better be ready for me to whine.”

Remy just grinned and waved Emile onward. When Remy’s sandwich had been finished and Emile came walking out, Remy stood there shocked for a moment. He hadn’t anticipated Emile looking hot in the outfit he’d picked out. Cute, sure. But hot? Completely out of left field. “You chose my socks for me? Really?” Emile asked.

Snapping back to life, Remy shook himself. “Yeah, I didn’t need you ruining your look with cartoon socks.”

Emile pouted. “What’s wrong with my cartoon socks?”

“They’re not exactly the kind of socks you would want to wear at a club, Emile. They won’t score you any points with the guys. Or the gals, for that matter.”

Emile just sighed, ate his sandwich, and then they were on the road. Remy had his chair tilted back and his fingers were laced together behind his head. “Today is a good day,” he said.

“I’m glad you think so,” Emile said. “Were you waiting for me to come home to share the news that you dropped out?”

“Eh, only a little,” Remy said. “I wasn’t, like, watching the window, but I didn’t want to go to sleep before I shared the news.”

Emile shook his head. “And you call me the nerd in this friendship.”

“You are the nerd in this friendship,” Remy said.

Emile laughed as they pulled into the parking lot. “You keep telling yourself that,” he said.

They got out of the car, flashed their IDs to the bouncers, and were let inside with minimal fuss. Remy felt the bass of the music thrum in his chest, and he grinned. He turned to Emile, who was already looking around the crowd, no doubt trying to spot someone he knew. Remy tapped his shoulder and almost-shouted, “I’m gonna go have some fun. Meet by the bathrooms in two hours to see how we feel?”

Emile nodded and Remy started moving through the crowd until he was on the dancefloor. Now, Remy didn’t know the specifics of dancing, but he knew how to sway his hips in just such a way that it would attract attention. He worked his way through the crowd doing just that, catching the attention of several girls, until he noticed one muscled man standing on the edge of the dancefloor, watching him. Remy put on a flirty grin and crooked his finger a few times.

The man offered a smile of his own and walked over. He was about as tall as Remy was, and the second he came over, he said, “Name’s Chris.”

“Remy,” Remy said, offering his hand. “Care to dance?”

Chris took Remy’s hand and they started to dance together, the beat of the drums matching their movements around the dancefloor. Remy noticed that several of the girls who were watching him before were now giving him dirty looks, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t a gay club, but it had the best reputation for being gay-friendly. And no one could kick him out for dancing with a man.

As one song bled into the next, Remy and Chris continued to dance, until they were near the bar and Chris asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, why not?” Remy replied with a laugh.

Chris went to the bar, and came back with two beers, passing one to Remy. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Chris asked. “You could certainly go to any gay bar and be the star of the show.”

“You flatter me,” Remy said, taking a sip of his beer. “I just dropped out of college. Figured I’d have a little fun on one of my off days before I start up my second job, to help with rent around here.”

Chris whistled. “Special occasion, then,” he said with a sly grin. “Here with anyone, or did you come over by yourself?”

“Friend drove me over here, but he’s nobody,” Remy said looking around. He pointed to where Emile was at the edge of the dance floor, talking to a girl. “He’s actually getting some action of his own, by the looks of it.”

Chris laughed. “You think he’d be okay if you went home with someone else?”

“I mean, I’d probably have to tell him, but I doubt he’d really mind,” Remy said. He arched an eyebrow. “You offering?”

“If I am?” Chris asked.

“Meh. I’m not looking for anything serious,” Remy said, waving a hand. “We finish our beers and still get on, we can dance more, and if I like you we can go to yours.”

“Sounds fun,” Chris agreed.

The two of them talked as they finished their beers, and when they were done they headed back out onto the dance floor. Remy could feel a buzz settling in, but also just a tad bit of exhaustion. It had to be around midnight by this point, and usually he’d be asleep soon. But he couldn’t be bothered to care about being tired.

After a particularly quick song, which left both Remy and Chris breathless and laughing, Chris kissed Remy softly. Remy kissed back, enjoying the sensation. This wasn’t his first kiss, but it had been a while, and he forgot how good it felt. As Chris pulled back, though, something or someone caught his eye from behind Remy and his eyes widened and he cursed.

Remy turned to find a girl stalking over and fuming. “Chris?! You said you were hanging out at a friend’s tonight?!” she shrieked.

“Bianca, you said you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow evening!” Chris said.

“Is this what you do every time I leave? Go to some club or another and convince someone to come home with you?!” she demanded.

Remy looked at the scene with horror. “You have a girlfriend?!” he asked Chris.

“Not for much longer, he doesn’t!” Bianca exclaimed. “And who exactly are you?!”

“Uh, Remy. Picani. I just wanted to have a little harmless fun, I didn’t realize that Chris might be taken,” Remy stammered out.

Bianca snarled at him. “Sure you didn’t,” she growled.

“I didn’t!” Remy insisted.

“He genuinely didn’t know, Bianca, leave him out of this,” Chris said, putting an arm between Bianca and Remy.

Bianca turned back to him and grabbed him by the bicep. “You and I are going to have a very long talk,” she growled, leading him off the dancefloor.

Remy felt like he needed to take a shower after that realization. He felt like filthy scum, even though he didn’t know that Chris had a girlfriend. He stood there on the dancefloor in shock before deciding to head to the bathrooms. He kinda had to pee, and anyway, that’s where he and Emile were supposed to meet up when they were going to check in.

After doing his business, but before he was done washing his hands, Emile came into the bathroom. “Hey, how are you faring?” Emile asked.

“The guy I was flirting with apparently had a girlfriend,” Remy said.

“Ouch,” Emile said with a sympathetic wince.

“Yeah,” Remy said, sighing. He still felt a little buzzed, but his mood was significantly dampened after learning this new information. “I kinda want to dance more, but dancing’s no fun without a partner, and I don’t know if any other guys here are interested in men.”

“There’s always me,” Emile joked.

Remy huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. No offense, though, Emile, but uh...I think I’d rather dance with someone who isn’t my best friend. I don’t want people thinking we’re an item.” That thought made Remy uncomfortable in ways that he couldn’t quite articulate. He hoped that Emile wouldn’t try and read into it, though.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to. “Yeah, I guess not,” Emile said. “No way to get some people interested in you if they think we’re already a thing.”

“I mean, we could always say we’re not exclusive, but I do agree that it would be easier to just avoid that beast all together,” Remy said.

“Wanna go home?” Emile asked, tilting his head to the door.

Remy considered. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready to sleep.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

[thiswasinevitableid]

Taste of Home (Indruck)

Prompt for the 13th was: strange harvest

Most days, Duck isn’t too worried about the dirt on his hands or the bits of leaves that stick to his clothes. Most days, he’s not about to meet with a reclusive, wealthy donor to the Kepler Botanical Gardens who has specifically requested Duck be present. 

When he enters the meeting room, Thacker is waiting for him along with a tall, pale-haired man sporting red glasses.

“Ah, here’s Duck now.” Thacker smiles. 

“Sorry, uh, thought we weren’t meeting until-”

“-One. You’re correct, I have a habit of getting a bit, ah, ahead of things t times.” The man offers a wide smile that’s polite but also gives Duck the heebie-jeebies.

“Duck, this here is Mr. Cold. He’s one of the garden’s longest standin supporters. He’s got a project for us, and asked that you be the one in charge of it.”

“I was quite impressed with your work on the native plant section, and I’m told you headed the transplant and maintenance of the tree specimens in the New Zealand section, which is no mean feat.”

“Thanks, I’m real proud of both. What do you have in mind? Is it an exhibit?”

“A private collection. Come, let me show you.” Mr. Cold unrolls a set of plans as Duck shoots a glance at Thacker.

“Didn’t know we did that sort thing.”

“We do for Mr.Cold. Whelp, I gotta go lead a tour. Mr. Cold, I leave you in Duck’s capable hands.”

He joins the taller man in front of the plans; they’re for a garden within a greenhouse, the structure as angular and distinct as the man requesting it. He knows the greenhouse hs Cold’s name above it, is usually used as a teaching space

“I imagine you think me rather selfish for requesting to use your space in such a way.” Mr. Cold doesn’t look up from where he’s making final notes on the paper, as if the answer is a foregone conclusion. 

“Think it’s kinda strange, but I ain’t about to rule on it bein selfish until you tell me what I’m actually doin.”

“I have several species of trees, flowers, and shrubs that I need grown. They are, ah, rather difficult to cultivate anywhere other than their native home, and I am not a skilled gardener at the best of times. Hence my seeking out someone who, I presume, has not killed multiple succulents in the last two months.” The man looks a little ashamed, then clears his throat, “the plants I am asking you to grow are the only specimens of their kind on earth.”

“How’d you get them, then?” Duck tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but this feels more and more like some rich guy made an impulse purchase of something that should be in a seed bank or species ark somewhere.

“I brought small specimens over from my home, which is where they grow. But I couldn’t keep them alive, and they were already rare. Last I heard they were all wiped out by an, ah, an illness. I stored seeds from my specimens in hopes of one day regrowing them.”

Duck looks at the diagram closely; the plant’s are actually sketched in, not just noted by name and the number of eraser marks suggest Mr. Cold spent a long time planning out exactly where each one went.

“You’re askin us to do all this because you’re homesick?”

“Yes. I have been away from home for a long, long time. The Kepler gardens have been a refuge for me. Lately I’ve been drawn to the woodland and prairie type sections.”

“I helped with a lot of those.”

Mr. Cold turns to him with a smile, “I know. That is another reason I requested you. But, before we go any further, I must make something clear; these specimens they mean...they are so, so precious to me. And secrecy is a must, for reasons I can only half explain. They would be solely under your care and protection. If that is not a responsibility you wish to take, I understand entirely.”

Behind the red glasses, Duck can just see a glint of hope. 

“Think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Wonderful” Mr. Cold claps his hands together, “in that case, there is not a moment to lose. Here, this is everything you need.” He produces a briefcase, inside which sits ten packets of seeds and three pits, bout the size of an avocado pit.”

“All the information I have on ideal growing conditions is in the attached notebook, and the seeds are labeled. If you have any questions, ny at all, my phone number is in there s well.”

 He pauses, smiles, and murmurs to himself, “it's been awhile since I gave anyone my phone number.”

Duck opts to ignore the stealthy glance at his arms and carefully takes the case, “Thanks, this’ll all be real helpful. 

------------

He doesn’t see his new patron (as Juno calls Mr. Cold) for a week. When he does, he’s on his belly, checking for any sign of sprouts in the greenhouse. 

“How goes the growing?” Mr. Cold asks from the direction of Duck’s feet. 

The gardener rolls over and sits up, “Not much to report, just trying to keep an eye on ‘em so I don’t miss anythin important.”

Mr. Cold offers his hand, helping Duck up, “I appreciate the care you’re taking, Duck. I hope it isn’t cutting into your other work too badly.”

“Had to move somethings around, but that's just the nature of this kind of work.”

Mr. Cold chuckles, “Pun intended?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Oh. Your, h, your lunch time is coming up right? I was wondering if you would let me take you to lunch as an, ah, extra thank you?” He’s spinning a small ring on his finger, the shyness almost charming, and Duck felt neutral at best about the sandwich he brought today.

“Sure, thanks.”

Mr. Cold grins, “Oh good. Where would you like to go? I hear the crystal palace has a lovely lunch.”

“The fancy Japanese place? Pretty sure they got a dress code.”

“Brush off the dirt and you look completely respectable.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, “I was talkin about you.”

They both stare down at the classy but still very clear pajama pants Mr. Cold is wearing. 

“Fair point. How do you feel about Indian food?”

---------------------------------

Duck’s stepped into some sort of painting. And here he thought he was just wandering into the birch grove. 

Indrid (“”I really prefer that name”) is laying on his back on a bench. Sun streams between the branches, falling across his face, making it all angle and shadow in ways Duck wants to sit and study. His silver hair is ruffling in the breeze, and his glasses are pushed up his forehead. Eyes shut and hands folded on his stomach, he reminds Duck of the paintings in fairytales of someone waiting for true loves kiss. 

He’s worried he might be the one to give it.

They’re having lunch once a week at least now, the awkwardness of the first time melting away as Duck got going on a tangent about dandelions only to find Indrid, elbows on the table and chin in his hands, listening to him so intently he blushed on reflex. Then he was giggling as Indrid pulled a custom-made curly straw out of a small tin in order to drink his Mango lassi. And then Indrid had laughed at his laugh and it all fell into place, the conversation so easy it’s as if they’d know each other for years. 

Then there were the frequent visits by Indrid to the greenhouse to check on the progress. Which, if Duck does say so himself, if pretty fucking good. The plants are thriving, reaching for the light, and the trees are already flowering in deep blue stars, the speed with which they reached adulthood fascinating to him. Sometimes Indrid just comes to see the gardens, but always seeks Duck out to say hello and smile that increasingly charming smile at him. 

But the biggest change has come with Indrid asking if Duck would be interested in designing a small garden for him 

“Something very simple and manageable. Hardy too.”

“Any plant preferences?”

“No, I trust your judgement entirely, though you may have to help me with their maintenance the first few weeks, if that is alright.”

Duck would have done it even if Indrid wasn't paying him. He liked sitting in the living room, surrounded by strange art and  crumpled papers, showing Indrid how to tend houseplants. And when they sit on the back porch, each dirt-smudged and grass stained, Indrid sipping soda while Duck nursed a single beer, the other man kept beaming at the new, small patch of garden, Duck’s heart wanted to burst from his chest and flutter around. 

Last night, he stayed late for dinner, and as he was checking over the houseplants…

“I’m fond of this one. It’s sturdy and makes me smile, much like you.” Indrid murmurs as he steps beside him. 

Duck slides a smile his way “Dunno, partial to this snake plant we chose; unique and kinda tall, just like you.”

It’s the worlds weakest flirtation, but as Indrid steps away his fingers tease Duck’s lower back, “I wonder if they can cross-pollinate.”

All of this is why Duck decides to leave Indrid be. Because playing prince charming to one of the gardens donors could backfire and shatter his whole career if he reads things wrong. 

The path takes him past Indrid, and he steps lightly. But just as he passes Indrid's head, cool fingers find his own. 

“How is my favorite flora expert today?” Indrid purrs, eyes still shut.

“Good. Uh. Yeah, good. How’d you know-”

“It was you? I have my ways.” Indrid grins, squeezing his hand once before letting go, “are we still on for lunch tomorrow? I can bring you that soup you like.”

“That’d be great.” Duck hesitates, reaches down and ruffles Indrid’s hair. The other man sighs, rubs his face against Ducks palm. 

“I can't wait.”

------------------------------------------

It takes him until ten pm to remember he left his phone in the greenhouse. Which would not be a problem, except he’s supposed to take a call early tomorrow from Jane, the first time in months they’ve been able to talk.

Plus, he’s been having an excellent text conversation with Indrid until his last rounds, sending him pictures of the plants in the greenhouse, which all look ready to bloom in the next day, and the strange fruit on the trees; speckled gold and white, and smelling faintly of marshmallow. Indrid’s reply texts were filled with excitement (and a great deal of praise, which Duck is thoroughly enjoying).  He wants to keep that going as soon as he can.

He finds his phone on the workbench, looks up just in time to see glowing red eyes reflected in the glass. 

Something’s in the greenhouse with him. Which should be impossible, because only two people have the keys. 

Turning, he scans the plants and spots a large, dark shape holding very still behind the trees. Which would work better if said trees were not so thin.

“I am aware this is not a good hiding place.”

Duck gasps, not expecting it to talk, then steps back when the creature emerges. It towers over him, antennae twitching and wings rustling slightly. His mind puts all the pieces together, and he understands only half of them. 

“Why the fuck is the mothman breakin into my greenhouse.”

The antenna flatten slightly, “I am not breaking in. Do you see any broken glass?”

“No, but I got one key, and the only other person with one ain’t here. And put those down, they ain’t yours.” Duck reaches for the two fruits, each clasped between a pair of clawed hands, only for Mothman to raise his arms. 

“They are, in fact, mine. If you would stop trying to knock me over I can explain.”

“Uh uh, first you gotta put down Indrid’s things, then you can explain.”

The creature chirrs, annoyed, and points at its neck, “His things? Such as this key perhaps?”

Duck stops moving, staring at the key before rising his gaze to the mothmans face and meeting his eyes for the first time. 

“What the fuck? Indrid, what the fuck?”

A sheepish chirp, “There was not a good way to tell you I am a famous cryptid. At least, I did not feel there was one. I was worried you would be afraid of me if you knew.”

“Feelin a little too confused to be afraid. Did, did I just grow a mothman garden instead of a butterfly garden?”

The laugh is unmistakably Indrid, “In a way. I was telling the truth when I said these were from my home, but my need for them went beyond homesickness. Every twenty five years, my kind are compelled to eat these. It is not fatal if we don’t, but we suffer a very unpleasant illness for several weeks if we do not. I resigned myself to that sickness until I began visiting these gardens, and saw there were people who might be able to help me. My own powers, including foresight, cannot replace a green thumb. Your green thumb went beyond anything I could ever have hoped for. This” he gestures to the trees with their glittering fruit, the flowers blooming in a  rainbow of glowing star-shapes, “Duck I, I haven't seen a sight like this in close to a  hundred years.”

Duck holds his breath as Indrid steps towards him, bending to rest his downy forehead against Ducks.

“Thank you, Duck Newton. Thank you for giving me a taste of home.”

The human reaches up to touch a black, fuzzy cheek, “Does this mean you gotta leave or somethin, now that I know your secret identity?”

“Not unless you are planning to tell everyone you’ve been acting as the Mothman’s personal gardener.”

“Nah, rather tell ‘em about the cute fella I’m takin to dinner tomorrow.”

Indrid blinks, “You...you do not find this alarming?”

“I mean, you’re big and a little terrifyin, but you’re still Indrid. And it means a lot that you actually stayed and told me who you were, instead of just flyin off.”

There’s a deep purr as Indrid says, “In that case, may I invite you to dinner at my house, Duck Newton? I can even share some of this strange harvest with you.”

Duck grins, drawing his fingers long Indrids arm, “That your way of tellin me they’re an aphrodisiac?”

Indrid nuzzles his cheek and pulls him close, “I guess we’ll find out.”

#indruck #promptober #indrid cold/duck newton #awkward flirting

[let-it-raines]

I desperately need to see when Killian and Emma get married in catch me if you can please and thanks!

I mean, did you guys really think I could stay away from Catch Me If You Can for long? Obviously not! It was fun to get back into writing this universe (it’s actually been a few months), and I hope you guys continue to enjoy! Feel free to send me prompts of this universe 😊 

Found on ao3 | here |

Original story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35| 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40

-/-

May 12th, 2021

“Are we out of milk?”

“We couldn’t possibly be out of milk.”

“I am looking in the fridge, and I don’t see any.”

“Darling, we went grocery shopping – ” Killian sighs and places his hands on his hips as he taps his foot. “Shit, when was the last time we bought food?”

Emma closes the refrigerator door and turns around before pulling her phone out of the waistband of her leggings, thumbing through the screen with her brows pinched together. “It says our last delivery order was April 13th. That was literally a month ago.”

“I mean, technically it was almost a month ago. Tomorrow it would be a month ago.”

“I would really love if you weren’t an ass right now because I’m hungry, and I really wanted a bowl of cereal.”

Killian shakes his head and steps up to Emma, moving into her space and placing his hands on her hips while his head dips down to her neck so he can kiss the skin there. There’s still the slightest hint of the scent of her perfume from last night, and it will never not be intoxicating. Emma will never not be intoxicating.

“It will take us five minutes to get milk, three if we run across the street instead of walking like civilized human beings.”

Emma hums and cranes her neck to give him more access to her while her hands wrap around his waist, nails scratching at his back. “And buy groceries in person like we’re living a decade ago? That seems like far too much effort.”

He nips at her skin in a place he knows she likes. “I’ll make you brownies if we go.”

“You really know the way to a girl’s heart.”

“I know the way to yours.”

“Ooh, that was cheesy.”

“We can buy cheese too.”

Emma scoffs and hits his back before moving her head so she can lightly brush her lips against his, quick and fleeting until it isn’t. Life is always nonstop, but once the season starts, it’s an entirely different ballgame. Literally. Either one or both of them are always on the road, and while their work generally happens at the same time, Killian has training and practice and PT while Emma has meetings that usually happen at the rare times when Killian is home. Then there’s the press Ariel has Killian doing lately, and it’s leaving very little time to stand in the kitchen and curl his tongue around Emma’s while her fingers tug on his hair.

Glorious. God, he always loves when she does that. Her hands are like magic.

“You’re very good at this.”

“Kissing you? I would hope so. Otherwise I don’t know why you would have stayed with me for this long.”

Emma’s smile presses into his. “Two years isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things.”

“Aye, but the marriage license we filled out last week says you’re planning on far more than two years.”

Her lips run across his jaw, and a shiver works down Killian’s spine and settles at the bottom as his jeans tighten. “Divorces work. I could divorce you the day after we got married if I wanted.”

“Would you?”

“I could. It would keep the marriage fresh and spicy.”

“I would really appreciate it if you never described our relationship using those two words ever again.”

“Why? That’s what all the old women tell me when they give me unsolicited relationship advice.”

“People not being able to shut their mouths is the exact reason why I didn’t want to announce the engagement.”

“We didn’t, ah – ” Emma’s body shivers at his touch and he smirks into her skin before his hands move down to her leggings, fumbling the slightest bit until he feels flesh. “We didn’t announce it. I started wearing a ring, and the tabloids put it together.”

“Fucking tabloids are the scum of the earth.”

Killian’s hand moves again as he gently nudges Emma back to the countertops, his lips and his teeth only ever moving away from her enough to speak. Her skin is so damn warm and softer than anything he’s ever felt, and he loves getting lost in her. It’s a high greater than any win.

“This doesn’t seem like we’re getting milk,” Emma sighs as he helps boost her up onto the countertop, “and you’re going to kill your knees.”

He arches a brow even though she can’t see it. “What makes you think I’m about to get down on my knees?”

“Because I know you, and I know what we’re heading toward.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you, Swan.”

“Ah, well, if that wasn’t what you were intending, I’d highly suggest it.”

Killian huffs and moves away from Emma’s neck until he’s kissing Emma, pressing his mouth against hers and drinking her in. He’s the luckiest bastard in the world, and for all of the good in his life, there is nothing better than Emma. She changed so much for him, continues to still do so, and he’d be happy to spend every day of his life with her just like this.

Just he and Emma.

Just them.

He pulls back from the kiss, sucking in a breath of air, before resting his forehead against hers. Her hands are still in his hair, his hands are on the outside of her thighs, and he can’t seem to focus on anything but the way her nose presses into his cheek exactly like it’s always belonged there, like it’s always fit there.

Like she’s always fit.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me, Emma.” He smiles into her lips and then pulls back enough so he can see her eyes. They’ve always been a ridiculously gorgeous shade of green, but right now, they’ve somehow got a hint of blue. “Right now, today.”

Her hand runs through his hair until fingers are pressing against his cheek. “We have a venue booked for forty days from now, have spent far too long picking out cake because you’re a dessert snob, and I have a ridiculously expensive white dress in the closet. And you want to get married today?”

“I want to marry you every day.”

“You’re on it today with the romantic declarations.”

“Are you saying there’s a day where I’m not?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

Killian laughs before kissing Emma again. He can’t seem to stop that. “Well, while I’m having a good day for romantic declarations, why don’t we grab our marriage license, head down to the clerk’s office, and get married? Just you and me, Swan? It’ll be great. We can still have the big party with our family, you can still look gorgeous in that dress, but this would be – ”

“Just us,” Emma finishes for him. She pulls back and stares down at him, brows furrowed. “Are you serious? You want to get married today, twenty-nine? For real?”

“If you’d like. If not, we can wait. We have all of these other plans, and I don’t – ”

Emma smacks her lips against his and cups both of his cheeks. “Let’s get married today. Can you give me fifteen minutes to put some dry shampoo in my hair and change into clothes without stains?”

“What? You don’t want to get married looking like you do?”

Emma winks. “What can I say? I’m a woman of standards.”

Killian chuckles and moves away from Emma until she’s hopping down from the countertop and tugging her shirt down and her leggings up. Her cheeks are absolutely flushed, and she’s got the beginning of beard burn on her chin. “Oh, and twenty-nine?”

“Yeah?”

“I fully expect you to finish what you started here when we get back.”“I was planning on it.”

It takes more than fifteen minutes for them to leave the apartment. Emma decides to fix her hair and put on a little makeup while he takes a shower and trims his scruff, but a little under an hour later, their hands are intertwined as they ride down the elevator to the lobby so they can get a cab to the courthouse. He’d drive, but honestly, parking is awful, and his nerves might be a little too much for that right now.

He plays in front of thousands of people all the time, but he’s got nerves over marrying the woman he’s known he was going to marry since almost the beginning of their time together.

This is decidedly different than playing baseball.

This is not his job. This is his life, their life, and as beautiful as he’s sure Emma will look in her wedding dress that she and Elsa found, she looks just as beautiful now in a long pink floral dress. They’d both debated on jeans and a nice shirt, but then Emma had decided on this dress while he pulled on a pair of navy slacks and a white button-down. It’s as if they’re going on a date or having to dress up for work, but that’s not what it is.

Killian still can’t quite believe that they’re doing this on a random Wednesday when they had so many other plans.

Not that their lives have ever gone according to plan.

“What are we going to do about a witness?” Emma asks as her hand squeezes his over his thigh. “Should we call someone and see if they can show up? Oh shit. Are we telling our families we did this?”

“Do you want to tell our families we did this?”

Her leg starts bouncing. “Not really. I mean, I do, but I – ”

“Want to keep this just between us?”

“Yeah,” Emma sighs, resting her cheek on his shoulder, “I think so. David and Mary Margaret will probably be pissed if they ever found out.”

“Liam and Elsa too. Anna most of all. Oh, shit, Addy and Lucy really will be. We’ll definitely have to wait until after the wedding to tell them.”

“If we ever tell them.”

“Yeah,” Killian agrees, “if we ever tell them.  I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone at the courthouse to be our witness. I’m rather charming. I think I could convince someone.”

“Unless they’re a Red Sox fan.”

“We’re in New York.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”Killian squeezes her hand, both to reassure Emma but also himself. “It’ll all be okay. If we can’t find anyone, I’d be happy to marry you tomorrow.”

It’s not long before they’re walking down the hallway of the city clerk’s office and then standing in line with at least ten other couples. Some are in dresses and tuxes, surrounded with families and friends, and Killian checks with Emma one more time to make sure there’s no wariness on her face over them having none of their loved ones here. All he can see is a beaming smile.

“Hey,” someone starts, turning to Killian, “are you – ”

“Aye.”

“Holy shit. Your 2019 win was just…damn, man. That was awesome. What do you think your odds are this year? I know last year sucked, but I’ve got hope for this year.”

“I think we’ve got a chance, but the season just started, you know? Anything can happen.” Killian reaches his hand out and shakes the man’s hand. “Killian Jones. And you are?”

“Ben McKinley. This is my wife, Caroline. We’re here for my brother and his soon-to-be husband.”

“It’s nice to meet you both. Say, Ben, can you do us a favor and be a witness for us since your brother is in line behind us?”

His brows go to his hairline. “Are you two here to get married?”

“Aye, but I’m afraid we didn’t bring anyone with us. You’d be doing us a big favor.”

“We’d love to do that,” Caroline adds in. “And Ben and I promise to be discreet.”

“Well, if it does leak, we’ll know how to find you.” Emma slaps his shoulder until he turns around to look at her. “What?”

“Did you just threaten them?”

He winks. Absolutely not.

It takes thirty minutes before their names are called, and then, within a blink of an eye, the ceremony is being performed and he and Emma are saying “I do.”

He never thought two words would feel so damn good.

He also never thought he’d have to politely be asked to stop making out with his wife in a courthouse, but life is full of surprises.

His wife.

It was all worth it. Every second of it. Of today. Of the past two years.

Everything.

“Hey, Jones,” Emma giggles as they walk out of the clerk’s office, hand in hand just like they’ve been for the past hour. They have new rings on their fingers, and he can’t stop running his thumb over Emma’s wedding band. He’s going to hate when they have to take them off, but it’s all worth it. “You do realize we’re still out of milk, right?”

His chuckle starts in his stomach and works its way all over his body, warming him more than the sun does. “Is that really what you’re focused on right now? Your cereal.”

“Oh, no,” Emma laughs, turning on her heels and wrapping her arms around his neck, “I was thinking of you making me brownies like you promised. I was also thinking of how much I love you.”

His hands settle on her hips. “What was winning in your mind? Your love for me or the brownies?”

“I feel like the answer will disappoint you.”

“Never.” Killian dips his head down and slants his lips over Emma’s, breathing her in. “I love you, even if you love brownies more than you love me.”

“Never,” Emma promises. “I think we’re going to have to run out of milk more often if it leads to days like this.”“I think we’re also out of eggs.”“Huh. Wonder what kind of trouble we’ll get into tomorrow when we go out to get the eggs.”

“Darling, I need eggs to cook the brownies. All this time, and you still don’t know basic recipes.”

Her smile is still the most brilliant he’s ever seen, and the blue is back in those green eyes of hers. “That’s what I have you for.”“Ah, so that’s why you married me.”

“It’s one of the reasons.”“What are the others?” 

“Take me home, and you’ll find out.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

-/-

-/-

CMIYC tag list: @killianswannn @dorisquinn​ @onepunintendid​ @authorarsinoe​ @stunningswan​ @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury​ @superchocovian​ @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog​ @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings​ @carpedzem​ @tornadoamy​ ​

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

[im-hqlover]

Arkham Knight - Chapter 1: Calm before the storm.

A/N - Ok, Idk if it will work, but I will try. I wanted to warn you that this story is based on the Batman Arkham Knight game, and that I will make certain changes in the universe, I hope you don't mind.  (Btw, I wanted to thank again @aliasimagines to proofread the chapter.)

Warnings: Spoilers, anxiety disorder, psychological terror? (maybe not yet in that chapter)

Pairings: Richard Grayson (Nightwing) x Reader (in that chapter / arc)

Y/n = your name (the reader is female)

d/n = dog name (the dog is male)

Words count: 1915

Next chapter: Coming soon.

Y/N's INFO:

Gender: Cis-Female

Sexuality: Straight 

Height: Short 

Weight: Not Defined 

Skin Color: Not Defined 

Hair Color: Not Defined 

Eyes Color: Not Defined

Other details? No

=-=-=-=-=

9 months. It's been 9 months since the Joker's death, and I knew something wasn't right, I felt that, since his death the crime rates have decreased, this should be a good sign, but... I feel like it was calm before the storm starts.

Today was October 30th, the day before Halloween, it was a nice day, I mean, I like to watch Halloween movies, give candy to children, see and create costumes, and maybe go to a Halloween party... pfff, obviously I don't go to parties. But other than that I think Halloween is cool, a great autumn day, cold days to stay under the blankets, watch something on tv and maybe customize some pumpkins.

My day was going as well as any other, Richard and I had agreed to spend today and tomorrow in my apartment, I was happy that he was coming to stay here with me, at least I wasn't so alone, I mean, I have (d / n), but well... he's a dog, so he doesn't answer me verbally, so it's good to talk to someone instead of just hearing my voice and the sound of barking. I was putting food for (d / n) when I heard knocking on the door and I ran to answer it, when I opened it I came across my boyfriend.

- Richard!

- Hey baby. - He smiled at me, put his arms around my waist and kissed me, I kissed him back and put my arms around his neck.

After we kiss, he walks into the apartment and places his backpack and motorcycle helmet next to the couch, I closed the door and go back to the kitchen.

- It looks like you worked hard to decorate the apartment. - He said while looking at the decorations, such as pumpkins and skeletons papers that I hung from the ceiling and also other details that referred to Halloween.

- Yes, I worked all week to do everything, but since I am not working and there were no classes this week, it was one of the only things I could do to distract myself. - I said while looking proudly at my hard work.

- It's wonderful.

- Thanks. - I say while blushing. I look at the oven and notice that the cookies were almost burning and I ran to get them out.

- The smell here is great, what are you cooking?

- Cookies. I hope it haven't missed the point. - I put the tray on the counter and Richard comes closer and look closely.

- That still needs to be painted. - I say while watching my boyfriend.

- They must be delicious, can I get one?

- Feel free, as long as you don't eat them all before painting them, I think everything is fine.

- I promise to leave at least one. - He spoke and touched my nose, he knew it irritated me. I crossed my arms and looked at him seriously. - Maybe two. - I rolled my eyes and laughed lightly. He comes over and wraps his arms around my waist. - Hey, you know I can't resist your cookies.

- You can't resist any food Richard. - I said and laughed as I put my arms around his neck.

- You know me. - He kisses me until (d / n) barks and we get scared.

- Looks like someone is jealous, isn't it (d / n)? - I say leaving Richard's arms and going towards my dog, and I pet him, after doing that I wash my hands to go back to my work in the kitchen.

- I'm just missing one thing. - He said while sitting on the couch and (d / n) lying on his feet.

- What?

- Pumpkins.

- Oh, I just didn't know where to leave them. - I get some pumpkins that were in my fridge.

- Wow, how many did you do?

- Four so far. I was planning to make two more after the cookies.

- Wow. This is incredible (y / n). He got up from the couch and looked at the pumpkins more closely. I smile shyly and continue making preparations to decorate the cookies.

While I was decorating the cookies, Richard decided to put some film on.

- Hey (y / n), what movie do you think we should watch?

- Hmmm, I don't know, how about ... The nightmare before christmas? - He smiles and nods in agreement placing the film right after.

While I was decorating the cookies, Richard stayed in the living room "watching" the movie, because he was actually writing something on his laptop. I saw it at a glance, it must have been a police case or something related to thieves.

When I finished the cookies I put them aside and went to carve another pumpkin, it didn't take long for me to hear the footsteps of a certain person coming to steal cookies.

- I loved the expressions of your pumpkins. - He said approaching slowly, like he wanted nothing with anything, but of course I knew what he wanted.

- You can get the cookies, you don't have to make a scene Richard. - He smiles and takes some cookies. - I loved this one. - He said showing a bat-shaped cookie with blue details.

- I made it especially for you.

- I am honored - He does something like a reverence and starts to eat the cookies, he supports his back on the counter and watches me make a drawing on the pumpkin.

- Oh, by the way, I have something that I think you will like. - I go to the fridge and get a pumpkin pie.

- I think I'm going to put on 10 kilos this Halloween. - We both laugh and put the pie on the counter.

- Since I had a lot of pumpkin pulp, I didn't want to waste it, so I made pies.

- Did you do more than one?

- Yes, I did if I'm not mistaken 7 pies.

- And what are you going to do with so much pie?

- I planned to maybe see with the neighbors if any of them would like it... on second thought, maybe they also already have pie... but, I think it is worth trying and see if someone would like it... - I say while I think about the possibilities of what people would like of pumpkin pie. - Maybe I'll give Alfred one, do you think he'll like it?

- I'm sure he will, you know that Alfred loves anything you give him.

- Yeah... I hope so.

- You don't have to worry about it, believe it. - I smile awkwardly and he kisses me on the cheek. - By the way, what do you think about watching Friday the 13th?

- It may be, I think I never watched the movie, so... I think it might be a good idea. - I shrugged while watching my pumpkin.

- Have you never watched Friday the 13th?

- I have almost pretty sure not.

- So it's going to be the perfect movie. - He smiles and goes back to the couch, with some cookies and a piece of pie of course.

The hours go by and it gets close to 18:00, it was getting dark outside. Richard and I were entertained watching the first Friday the 13th movie, everything was fine, just a few scares here and there and holding Richard's arm and resting my head on his shoulder, until I hear a scary voice outside. 

- Did you hear that? - I ask him and he answers positively, we got up from the couch and went to the window. My apartment had a view of some of Gotham's big screens, so it was possible that we could see Scarecrow talking. He was talking about his fear toxin, saying that tomorrow it would look like child's play, my heart started to beat faster. 

It didn't take long for the city to start being evacuated, I grabbed my backpack and put on everything I thought was most important to me, as Gotham was supposed to be dominated only by villains I couldn't leave it here to them. 

I got my laptop, pen drives, pictures of people important to me and a few other things. Richard took his backpack and helped me to take what I needed to my car, as he had come on a motorcycle, (d / n) couldn't go with us, so my car was the best choice, we put everything in and Richard went to leave his motorcycle in a safe place, or at least he thought it was safe.

- I drive the car. - He spoke while making hand gestures asking me to give the car key. - You aren't in a position to drive and you know it.

I agreed and handed over the key, I was very anxious, probably already having an internal panic attack, so letting him drive was the best option, as he was already used to dealing with this type of situation.

As there were so many cars and buses evacuating the city, it took us a long time to leave the island and head towards the wayne mansion, probably one of the safest places at this time. When we got there, we removed (d / n) and our belongings, and Alfred was already at the door ready to help us. 

- Master Dick, Miss (y / n), I'm glad you are well. 

I was still in shock with everything that was happening, so many things going on in my mind, I was freaking out, I was exploding internally, I couldn't answer anything, because I felt that if I said anything I would collapse.

- Actually (y / n) is not well, this whole situation has affected her a lot.

- I understand, come inside Miss (y / n), I know something that will help you. - I looked at Richard before entering the mansion and following Alfred into the kitchen, he started making tea and at the end put it on the counter in front of me. - I know you are not a big fan of tea, but I recommend taking this one, it will calm you down.

- Thank you Alfred. - I say with a slightly shaky voice and take the hot cup, I wait for the tea to cool down a little before taking a sip of the drink, it was not as bad as other teas I had already tried, but it wasn't something I would take all hour. Alfred leaves the kitchen and goes to another room. I spend some time alone in the kitchen, watching the cup of tea, until Richard arrives in the kitchen and approaches me.

- I know that all this is messing with your mind, but I know that soon everything will be resolved, I know that Bruce won't let anything happen to Gotham and will do his best to save everyone he can, and so will I will help in whatever I can. And I swear I won't let anything happen to you.

- Thank you Richard. - I leave the cup on the counter and hug Richard, who returns the hug. - Thank you…

We stayed like that for some time until Richard breaks the hug and says he has to see some important things, but that he would be back soon. I go back to drinking the rest of the tea and when I finish I watch my shaking hands, I hear the sound of dog steps approaching and I see that (d / n), he knew something was wrong, I approach of him and I pet him, at least that made me calm down a little. I decide to go to the living room and look out the big window and observe the dark, rainy night that was at that moment. I hope this nightmare will end soon.

=-=-=-=-=

Masterlist

#Arkham Knight #Arkham Knight x Reader #Richard Grayson #Dick Grayson #Richard Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x Reader #Batman #Bruce Wayne #alfred pennyworth #Tim Drake #timothy drake #Jason Todd #Barbara Gordon #Jim Gordon #Scarecrow #Joker #Dc universe #reader #female reader #x reader #Halloween #Nightwing #Nightwing x reader