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jinkisbelly · 4 years

Text

Selcouth

Pairing: Onho,

Rating: pg

W/c 7k or so

Warnings: mentions of depression and symptoms of it

Summary: For as long as Minho has known Jinki, his voice had always been a defining factor of his being. Neither are sure who the man will be if he loses it forever.

A/n: First, This is for summer of shinee, prompt 81 which was, After undergoing vocal polyp surgery, Jinki isn't allowed to speak. While putting on a brave face, he feels lonelier than he expected. Minho helps him see the light in any way he can. While putting on a brave face, he feels lonelier than he expected. Minho helps him see the light in any way he can.I had many plans for this, but life happened. I do hope this is still enjoyable and I do plan on revisiting it at a later date <3

Second, Selcouth means Strange, unusual, rare; unfamiliar; marvelous, wondrous. I decided to go with the unusual and unfamiliar, to eventually, Marvelous

AFF Ao3

The crisp winter air blew against his thick coat as Minho strode down the pavement toward his best friend’s apartment building. The gift bag swung gently, the handles cutting into the leather of his gloves, and he flexed his fingers to return some of the feeling into them. Between the chilly weather and the slight cold he was coming down with, Minho’s nose was bright red as he sniffled underneath his mask. Whatever it was, he hoped it got over with rather quickly. With the deadline coming soon for the next book, talking with his editor about upcoming fan encounters, and signing a few copies of his previous editions, his next couple months were packed full. But that all could wait for now. For he had a gift to deliver to his best friend.

No matter how many times Jinki got cast in a musical or play, Minho kept up the tradition of getting him a gift. He had started in high school when Jinki got the lead in his junior year spring musical. Through them going to separate schools for college, he sent them in the mail. And yet, every time Jinki was just as surprised to get the gift as he was the first time. It was rather cute if Minho thought about it. One would think after being friends for so long and having the gift-giving tradition, that Jinki would learn to almost expect it. Then again it was Jinki, who still had his day made by the little mints Mr. Jung always gave him every morning.

He pushed open the swirling door of Jinki’s apartment building and dusted his chest and hat free of snow with his free hand. The doorman smiled as he stepped in from the drizzle of snow falling outside. “Hello, Mr. Jung.”

The lobby had a few people going about their days in the late afternoon, but Minho paid them no mind as he approached the older man. The doorman removed his hat with a sigh, shaking his head with a fond smile. “How many times must I tell you to call me Yunho, Minho?”

“About as many times as you had to tell Jinki.”

“Forever it is then.” Yunho chuckled before gesturing to the voice box behind him. “Do you want me to notify him you’re here?”

“No thank you. I want it to be a surprise.” He lifted his dark blue gift bag with a big grin. “He landed Singing in the Rain and I have a gift for him.”

“Ah, yes. The gift-giving tradition,” The older man smiled warmly, before sighing, “He needs a good surprise I think.”

The tone of Yunho’s voice brought Minho up short, “What do you mean?”

“He came home late this morning and he looked completely out of it. I thought he might have failed an audition he really wanted. He refused my mint.”

Jinki hadn’t said anything during their text messages throughout the day. Minho knew that he had gone to the doctor this morning about the pain in his throat, but if it was something serious he was sure his friend would have told him about it already. Right? “Mm, thanks again, Mr. Jung.”

The elevator smelled like vanilla faintly and there was an older lady with a small dog sitting at her feet. Minho grinned at them both before wiggling his fingers at the pup. Their tongue was sticking out, panting softly as the tail switched against the smooth floor of the elevator. A few floors up the lady and her canine exited the lift. Minho leaned against the nicely wallpapered wall and gazed at the way the elevator buttons blinked on and off with each additional level he passed. Finally, the light reached ten and the doors opened. Down the hall to the left, he could almost count the number of steps he had taken this path so many times in various states of mental clarity. He raked his knuckles softly against the door right under the golden number marking it.

A few moments later the key chain was slid and the door clicked open. Jinki’s mop of dark hair was pushed away from his eyes messily. He flashed a genuine smile, but it didn’t travel to his eyes like normal. Mr. Jung was right, something was off with Jinki. As he entered the familiar apartment, Jinki softly commented, “I didn’t expect to see you today, Ming.”

“That’d be because it’s a surprise, silly.” He kicked off his shoes and hung his coat and scarf up on the hanger by the door, making sure his gloves were shoved into the pocket. He headed straight into the living room, placing the gift bag on the coffee table, and frowned at the wadded up tissues tossed to one side of it. There was a stack of pillows on one end of the couch and a crumbled up blanket on the other side. He turned when he heard Jinki’s socks shuffling against the rug. The older man slipped past him, climbing onto the couch and immediately pulling the blanket around his shoulders. With a raised eyebrow, Minho softly asked, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Whatever it is you should just return it.”

“But you landed Singing in the Rain! Why would I return your gift?” He grinned widely, “It’s tradition.”

Jinki takes a large shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers grip the blanket around him tightly. Minho had known Jinki since middle school when the man’s family moved next door. They had been through everything together, but he could count the number of times Jinki looked this shaken on one hand. His voice was weak when he spoke, eyes slowly opening to make eye contact. “I must give the musical up.”

“What? Why? You worked so hard for this!”

“They’ll be other musicals.” Jinki tries, bless his heart, to smile reassuringly, but all it does is make Minho step closer until he’s sitting between the man and his mound of pillows.

“Did they choose another actor or something? Mr. Jung mentioned that you seemed off and the tissues and-”

“Because I have vocal polyps Minho!” The strength in Jinki’s voices startles him. A sob rips from the man’s throat, “I may lose my voice forever.”

Minho curls his fingers around the back of Jinki’s neck, hugging him tightly against his chest and pressing a kiss to his hair. Bewildered, and a little bit out of his element, Minho’s relieved when Jinki clings to him. “It’s alright, it’s going to be alright.”

------

He wasn’t sure how long he held Jinki close while he cried, but eventually, the older man quieted down. He was resting his temple on Minho’s shoulder as they both leaned back against the couch. The papers from the doctor were sprawled out on the table, some poking out from under the still unopened gift bag, and Minho wasn’t sure how he managed to miss that when he arrived. Jinki seemed perfectly content curled up on the couch beside him and Minho found he rather enjoyed the warmth against him. “What are your options?”

“ Only one.” Jinki stirred slightly before settling further up Minho’s shoulder. “Surgery to have it removed. Then a few months of recovering. Either it works and I can sing at the end, or.. Well.”

“Hey, don’t think like that. It’ll work out.”

“It’s...daunting, Minho. Some do everything they’re supposed to and in the end, their voice no longer is what it was.” Jinki’s breathing was shaky, enough to be felt with how close they still were. “I don’t know who I am without my voice.”

Minho swallowed thickly before softly asking, “Did you make an appointment for the surgery?”

“Yeah, six weeks away.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll be here for you, okay?”

Jinki just quietly laughed and nuzzled his head into Minho’s shoulder. “I never doubted that, Minho.”

-----

Six weeks Later

Minho was sure that Mama Lee would have rather been here to take care of her son, but Jinki didn’t want her traveling hours to do so. The least Minho could do is talk to her about what was happening. He turned the phone call off and placed his phone on the counter, heading toward Jinki’s bedroom. Sure enough, the man was still curled up sleeping away from the pain medicine he took a few hours before. Bibim was still curled up by his feet, a big dark spot standing sentry at the end of the bed. The doctors stated that Jinki would be out of it for a few days and for him to take it easy. The couch was already made up for Minho to stay the night to help him until he was healed enough to take care of himself. It almost felt like a sleepover, without the secret tellings and trying to steal whiskey from their parents’ alcohol cabinet.

He took the empty mug on the table by the bed and put it on the dresser. Returning to the mattress he gently sat down to move Jinki’s hair from his forehead, He knew the man had a hard time ahead to recover and then work on his voice from the lack of use the recovery promised. Minho could only imagine how the man felt on the subject, but he couldn’t fully understand his fears. He had never had to worry about losing his passion for writing or his ability for it. Jinki could lose his voice, working in musical theatre, and everything he worked so hard for if this didn’t go well.

Minho promised Jinki he’d help him through this, and he planned to be there always, no matter how hard it got. Jinki’s face scrunched a little, before soothing as Minho moved his hand through his hair again.

------

A month Later

The apartment was dimly lit by the barely open curtains along the living room wall. Other than the late morning light managing to slip through, the space was vacant of any other source of light. More and more the longer Jinki was recovering Minho would come to visit a dark apartment, looking like it was barely lived in. When he placed his keys on the dish by the door Jinki’s keys jingled slightly by his fingers before settling, he kicked off his shoes and hung his coat. Making his way into the nearby kitchen the light was on over the oven, illuminating the space in dim light. There were dishes neatly stacked on one side of the sink, mostly bowls and mugs from his soup and warm teas. Minho made a mental note to do those some time today, but first, it was time to get Jinki out of bed for more than using the restroom and getting something to eat.

Down the hall, Jinki’s bedroom door was half-open, probably from him softly attempting to kick it close from his last kitchen trip. Minho raked his knuckles gently against the dark wood as he opened it all the way. Jinki should know he was coming, as he had almost every day for his lunch break, but he didn’t want to spook him too much. “Jinki? You decent?”

Minho pulled his phone out from his back pocket when he heard it ding.

Jingles: Am I ever truly decent anymore, Ming?

Squinting slightly, Minho could make out the soft glow of Jinki’s phone through his dark blue comforter, which he was currently huddled under in a small ball. There was a cup of what Minho assumed was tea on the bedside table beside him. His laptop was pushed against the wall on the floor under the window, charging light blinking slowly. Very faintly he could hear the rumbles of Jinki’s cat and it wasn’t until he sat softly on the edge of the bed he realized the feline was in the cocoon with his friend. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

A little movement in the cocoon resulted in another gentle ding from his phone

Jingles: What can I do for you?

“Let me see your face for one.” Jinki let out a deep sigh before reluctantly, the blanket was removed from over his head. His eyes were narrowed, hair a mess on top of his head, and cheek red with marks from his pillow. Minho grinned, “There you are.”

His eyebrows moved into a scowl as he lifted his phone up to see it from the blanket. Once he was done, the phone was lowered once again.

Jingles: Bite me, Mr. Sunshine

"That's not on the agenda."

Jingles: what is?

"A shower and breakfast. I'll tell you more after, Stinky."

Jingles: I DO NOT STINK

After sniffing himself a moment later another text message was sent.

Jingles: alright maybe you have a point

Minho shook his head and smiled as the cat’s head popped out of the cocoon. Slowly he moved his hand closer, fingers loosely curled in as he let the cat realize he was about to touch him. Bibim purred quietly as he headbutted Minho’s incoming hand, stretching his back as he did so. “Hello, sweety. Did you have a nice nap?”

He gave Jinki a little glance as his phone dinged again but still picked it up from the mattress where he had placed it.

Jingles: I had a good nap too if you wanted to know

“The red marks on your face tell me that just fine.” Jinki rolled his eyes before wiggling out of his cocoon and across the bed toward the bathroom. Minho snorted when he realized the man only had on one slipper as he shuffled into the attached bathroom. He picked up Bibim and giggled when the cat rubbed his head on his chin. “Yes, sweetie, you’re dad is very strange indeed.”

-------

Minho had just finished making a new cup of tea for him when Jinki came shuffling into the kitchen. A few drops of honey were stirred in as well as a little bit of milk before the dark blue mug was placed on the island in front of the man. He eyed the drink suspiciously before delicately taking a small sip, humming happily as the warm beverage coated his throat. He slipped onto the stool near him and held the cup between both of his hands, smiling slightly as his eyes slipped close and he breathed in the sweet aroma of the tea. Minho found himself leaning back on the counter, arms across his chest, softly gazing over at his friend as he found a specific kind of bliss in his mug of tea.

His hair was neatly combed from his forehead, small drops of water falling down his skin with how the strands were still a bit damp. There was a soft, cream-colored sweater on his frame, and dark jeans tight against his legs. It was such a contrast to what Minho was used to seeing the man in over the last month or so, all the pajamas and boxers, but it was so nice as well. Bibim meowed loudly, announcing his arrival to the kitchen, and plopped back on his butt right in front of his food bowl at the end of the island. Minho froze when he heard Jinki’s soft, quick breaths, realizing slowly he was laughing. He blinked, trying to remember the last time he saw his friend laugh and his heart ached when he realized he couldn’t recall.

Before Jinki could let go of his tea, Minho spoke up, "I got him."

At one point in time, Minho wasn't as intimate with Jinki's kitchen layout or where he kept his cat food, but over the last couple weeks, his familiarity had grown. A few weeks ago Minho figured out that Jinki had moved his container of cat food from the cabinet just left of the sink to the floor of his pantry. There he also kept his litter and a canvas bag full of toys, stuffed animals, and beds Bibim wasn’t currently using. After taking a scoop out, he gently poured it into the cat’s bowl, getting a head butt to his head in thanks. A moment later Bibim was munching away happily.

When Minho returned the scoop, made sure the container was closed properly, and the door shut he found Jinki softly gazing at him as he tapped his fingers on the side of his mug. Near him was his dry erase board he used when visiting Mr. Jung downstairs or the old lady next door who always came over to give Bibim leftover chicken she made. He moved his sweater covered palm from the cup and picked up his marker, scribbling quickly. When lifted it read, ‘ Where are you taking me?’

“Breakfast.”

Jinki raised his eyebrows as he used the cap of the marker to erase his question, before looking down to write his reply. ‘I s tea not breakfast?’

“You haven’t left this apartment for anything but doctor appointments in weeks.” Minho leaned on his elbows against the kitchen island, flashing a smile as Jinki sighed, “Just trust me and if you really aren’t feeling up to it, I’ll take us home. Alright?”

Jinki mouthed, okay, before finishing his tea. He slipped his phone into the front of his jeans and went to grab his bag still sitting on the table by the couch from where he placed it from his last doctor’s appointment. When the man returned into the kitchen his backpack was placed on the counter. Minho was just relieved Jinki was willing to trust him without knowing where he was taking him. He had expected to half fight him out of the bed and into the shower with how things had been over the last few weeks. Minho set the empty cup near the sink for later and grinned, “Let’s get going, Jingles.”

Even with the obvious eye roll, Minho could see the faint beginnings of a smile ghosting over Jinki’s lips as he grabbed his bag and headed toward the front door.

-----

Jinki shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, slowly eyeing the front of the small cafe before looking over at Minho as the man threw an arm over his shoulders. “Now this is breakfast.”

The front door was kept open by a rubber doorstop. The sign propped up outside listed their specials for the day, but Minho was too busy studying Jinki’s expression to notice it. The older man’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, eyes flicking around the cafe patrons. Even in the early afternoon, most of the tables and outside seating were full, with a steady line. Jinki’s bottom lip was sucked between his teeth, shoulders rising as if trying to hide. “How about you find us a seat, and I’ll order, okay?”

Jinki nodded, slipping through the door and past the line before disappearing around the thick wooden pillar of the entryway. As the line in front of Minho shortened, he caught sight of his friend along the far wall to his right, fiddling with something on the table in front of him. His coat was removed, the dark fabric on his right in the booth. He seemed so small curled in on himself, not lifting his gaze even with all the hustle and bustle happening around him. Minho removed his attention from the older man to look up at the big menu above the front counter.

By the time he had ordered and the food was put on a tray for him, he found Jinki half turned out of the booth. A woman was standing before him, waving her hands as she talked with a huge smile on her face. Anyone else would think Jinki was happy, but Minho could tell around the eyes the encounter was exhausting and slightly sad. The woman’s hands lowered as Jinki lifted his phone. Jinki’s eyes lit up when he noticed Minho approaching. He caught the next thing the woman spoke. “I heard about the surgery from a news release. I was really looking forward to seeing you in Singing in the Rain.”

Minho couldn’t read what Jinki had said before the phone was pulled down again so he could respond. Just as he was placing the tray on the table, smiling as the woman noticed him, Jinki signed the playbook offered to him with a little grin before the woman was thanking him and disappearing into the crowd. The curious eyes around them slowly drifted back to their own food and conversations. Some lingered for a few moments, but eventually, they looked away. Jinki deeply sighed as soon as he was relatively alone, leaning back into the booth. The smile pulling on his face was soft and fond, eyes blinking slowly. “I hope you like bacon and egg sandwiches.”

Jinki’s eyebrows rose as he grabbed one of the brown paper wrapped sandwiches, unwrapping it and centering it on paper. The cheese was melting off the side, oozing onto the parchment, Jinki gingerly picked it up and took a small bite. With one hand, he gave a small thumbs-up, swaying as he chewed and Minho knew the man enjoyed it. He mentally put a point on his, ‘Get Jinki feeling better’ list before picking up his own sandwich.

------

The aquarium wasn’t as busy as Minho thought it might have been when they arrived. Jinki didn’t look convinced as they handed their tickets over to the front worker. “Don’t look at me like that.”

As they rode down the escalator to the start of the aquarium, Jinki pulled his phone out to text, Minho’s phone dinging quietly.

Jingles: Like what?

“Like you think this is a silly idea.” Jinki bumped his shoulder, but he was giving a little smile and that was enough for Minho to drop the subject. At the end of the escalator, there was a photographer quick to point them to the green screen hung on the wall. Minho grinned and tugged Jinki over by his wrist. After wrapping an arm around his waist to tug him close, he rested his head on Jinki’s. “Smile, Jingles.”

There was a small flash before they were handed a small card to give to a worker later to find their photo later. With a small thanks, they headed down the hallway toward the first tanks of fish. They were full of small, fresh river fish, swimming and darting quickly through the slightly murky water. Jinki pushed his glasses further up on his nose and stopped to read the information to the right of the tank. Minho just shook his head and focused on the fish. Of course Jinki would return back to his bookworm self the moment there was information to learn. Sure, they could move on, but Jinki was acting interested in something other than his cat and sleep so Minho wasn’t going to rush him.

-----

Minho had two favorite parts of the aquarium, The first was the tunnels that went under the tanks, surrounding them with a beautiful different perspective of the large fish and shark tanks. The second was the penguin exhibit, with the deep end for them to dive into on one side. Minho stepped off the conveyor belt on the floor to slowly look out into the left side of the tank. Jinki was aiming his Polaroid camera that his mother had gotten him for his birthday, focusing intently. It took Minho a minute to realize he was following the sea turtle moving through the water slowly. His finger clicked the button and a moment later the photo shot out. Jinki shook it before lifting it up toward his face. A grin was plastered to his face as he pushed it towards Minho.

He took in gingerly. The photo turned out clearer than he Minho expected it to be. When he went to return the photo Jinki was typing something on his phone, the blue glow over his face replaced with a white one of his screen. Before he could ask anything about it, Jinki was putting his phone back into his pocket and holding out both of his hands. His right hand was a fist with his thumb on top and his left was resting over it, his thumb sticking out from the front. There was such a bright smile on his face as he held up his hands even further, eyes twinkling almost. Startled with how beautiful Jinki was to him right then, it took him far longer to connect the dots. “Is that the sign for Turtle?”

Jinki’s hair ruffled as he nodded enthusiastically. Once the photo was put in the pocket of his backpack, Minho replicated the sign, giggling when Jinki grinned. The lights from above the tanks filtered such a pretty blue swirling glow over Jinki’s features. When the man turned back to look at the tank, Minho couldn’t make himself look away from his friend. Before he could stop himself, his hand lifted and a loose strand of Jinki’s hair was pushed behind his left ear. Slowly, Jinki turned, eyes wide before softening. His lips were curved up just slightly, warm and sweet, and Minho’s stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. Suddenly Jinki’s gaze was too much and Minho turned away, pretending to focus on the fish in the tank before them and trying to ignore the warmth rising in his cheeks.

------

The large tank of manta rays was big and bright across the small sitting area. Minho grabbed their tray of food from the concession stand and found Jinki sitting at the bar lining the fence separating the manta rays from the sitting area. Their food was a collection of different fried foods, cheese fries, and soft pretzels. Jinki slurped at his cherry icee, eyes following the manta rays swim lazily through the blue water. The straw is still resting on his bottom lip as he looked down at the food placed before him. His tummy rumbled softly, and Minho snorted. “You get the first choice.”

As predicted, Jinki went straight for the cheesy fries, using his tongue to bring the pulled cheese hanging from the one he picked up into his mouth. Minho shook his head with a fond little chuckle as he grabbed one of the hamburgers. He had to admit the rays were rather soothing to watch as they ate. Soon all that was left were the cinnamon soft pretzels. Jinki was doing something on his phone and out of the corner of his eye, Minho saw he was texting his mother. That’s good, she had been really worried about him during their last phone call that past weekend. “Tell Mom I said Hi.”

Jinki rolled his eyes, but his thumbs began to move again. A moment later he pushed his phone over with two fingers to make it slide across the small distance between them.

Ma: Oh you’re with Minho! That’s so good please tell him I look forward to our phone call coming up

Jinki took the phone back, typing away, and then a ding was heard followed quickly by another.

Jingles: You talk to my mother?

Jingles: About what?

“She was worried about you for the first two weeks when you wouldn’t return her text messages, so she reached out to me.” Minho stared down at his half-eaten pretzel before sighing. “We just talk about how you’re doing. She gave me a soup recipe to make you. Things like that.”

Jingles: I talk to her now

“You’ve been having a hard time since you learned about the surgery, and I understand that, but,” He took a deep breath before finally looking over at Jinki. “I know you don’t talk to her about how you really feel or how you’re really doing. It was either talk to her or she’d show up on your front doorstep.”

A very long moment passed before Jinki’s thumbs slowly tapped at his phone.

Jingles: We better get going. They close soon

Even before Minho finished reading the text message, Jinki was slipping off his stool with his trash held neatly in his hands. By the time Minho caught up he was waiting by the opening near the penguins, leaning against the wall with his arms over his chest and eyes glazed over as he stared toward the opposite wall. He mentally took away the point on his ‘Get Jinki feeling better’ list before joining the man.

-----

The dishwater was warm against his hands, soap suds slipping down his arms, bristol brush moving over the plate in the sink. He could hear Jinki moving around in other parts of the house. Minho knew he needed to talk to him, address what happened at the aquarium, but he also knew that the man would come to him when he was ready to talk. With the last plate set on the drying rack, Minho let the water out and wiped off the counter around the sink. Once his hands were also dried off, the towel was hung on the oven. He grabbed his beer from the island and flipped the light off on his way out of the kitchen.

Jinki was curled up on his couch, Bibim spread out on his lap. The record player on the bookshelf was softly playing, a book was open on the arm of the couch, and his glasses were back on his face. Minho gently sat on the other side of the couch, flashing a smile when Jinki looked up at him. “What’cha reading?”

He lifted the left side of the book to show the cover with a ghost of a smile on his face. Reflecting back at Minho was the most recent book in his ongoing series and not the signed copy that he had given his friend when it came out. “Did you buy that?” Jinki nodded as he returned to the book. Eventually, he returned his bookmark and put the closed book on the table to his right. “Why did you buy it? I know I gave you one.”

Jinki picked up his whiteboard and quickly scribbled, ‘ You did. It’s on my bookcase.’

“So why did you buy one?”

‘ I didn’t want to mess up the signed one.’

“I could give you another copy.”

Jinki softly tapped his fingers on the edge of the whiteboard, pen held between his teeth. Bibim stood up with a slight stretch, taking a few steps to climb into Minho’s lap. He was too busy greeting the black and grey cat, he failed to notice Jinki tapping on his phone. Minho looked over when Jinki’s hand fell on his knee. There was a flurry of dings from his cell phone and with a raised eyebrow, Minho picked it up to read.

Jingles: I’m sorry about how I acted earlier

Jingles: Thank you for talking to my mom. I know she’s worried for me, I just couldn’t… It’s hard talking to her about how I feel. I know she’s worried and I don’t want her to be, you know?

Jingles: Especially since I’m not sure how I feel.

Jingles: Scared, worried, anxious. Sometimes it’s so hard to get out of bed. If it wasn’t for Bibim, I don’t think I would most days.

Jingles: And that scares me you know? I felt myself slipping, each day I spent more and more time in bed, and I know it’s bad but I can’t stop myself. There’s like this… boulder over my head reminding me I could lose my voice forever, threatening to drop at any minute.

Jingles: Like it’s inevitable, so what’s the point of getting out of bed and trying? It all seems pointless. I feel so alone Minho and I know you come over every day, I know you clean up for me and I’m so thankful for that, but then you go home and I’m left here with my thoughts.

Jingles: I don’t want to be alone. A part of me regrets not going home.

Jingles: Thank you for today. It was really nice.

“I think you should talk to someone about how you feel, Jinki. Whether it’s me or a therapist. You shouldn’t keep all that bottle up.”

Jingles: I know

Jinki’s phone slipped into his lap, head hung slightly as he curled more into himself. His shoulders were gently shaking and it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together and know he was trying so hard not to cry. “Please come here.”

He looked up with wide eyes, tears on his cheeks, and bottom lip sucked between his teeth. After a moment, he wiggled closer to settle against Minho’s side. “You’re doing everything you can to get your voice back. You just need a little bit of hope, no matter how long it takes you to feel like you can.”

-----

Slowly as the days passed, Minho would come to visit and find Jinki a little further away from the curled up cocoon he’d always used to be found in. Eventually, he’d be dressed in more than his boxers, clean from his shower, and ready to do whatever he put his mind to for the day. Minho put it towards the therapist he had gotten in touch with over an app through his phone, but also Jinki’s willingness to accept his mental health was important too. Today Jinki had taken him by the wrist and immediately tugged him out of the apartment, barely stopping at all except to say hello and goodbye to Mr. Jung standing at his desk.

Minho softly smiled as the now-familiar sight of the cafe came into view. The same little one he brought Jinki in before their trip to the aquarium. It had become a sort of routine for them to have brunch in the back corner booth together, Jinki doodling little notes on his napkin to make it more interesting than texting with his phone. The front cashier who always seemed to be working when they came in had even managed to learn their orders in the last two weeks of them constantly coming in.

Jinki was currently sipping at his tea, eyes closing as his breathing slowed and he swayed just a bit. The warm feeling in Minho’s chest was back as he watched Jinki’s little bit of mundane happiness. It was the same feeling he felt at the aquarium under the tanks and Minho wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He was in a bit of denial about what the feeling reminded him of because he was not getting fuzzy, romantic feelings for his best friend no matter how similar the feeling felt. Maybe it was just pleasant heartburn or something. While he knew logically that was not a thing, it was better than confronting the possibility his feelings for Jinki were evolving. He wasn’t ready for that revelation just yet.

So instead, he picked at his sandwich, only stopping when Jinki’s napkin was pushed into his line of sight.

‘ You have a book signing tomorrow, right?’

“Yeah, at the library downtown. Why?”

Jinki scribbled quickly, a slight frown on his face as he pushed it back. ‘ That means we can’t come here.’

“We can come after. For a very late lunch.”

While nothing else was written, a grin was back on Jinki’s face so Minho counted that as a win.

-------

As much as Minho enjoyed meeting and interacting with his fans, after a while the whole encounter was a special kind of exhausting. His hand felt a little cramped from all the personal messages and signatures that had come through the line all morning. Luckily, he could finally see the end of the line. A young woman with a large blue bow on her ponytail stepped closer, handing him her brand new full set of the original trilogy. “I’m so happy I managed to get a ticket to this.”

“First time?”

She nodded rapidly, “I’ve tried ever since the first book came out, but it’s so hard to nab one.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you….”

“Oh, Taeyeon. My name is Taeyeon Lee.”

“Nice to meet you Taeyeon.” He pulled the cap from his marker off with a smile as he gestured to the box set. “Where would you like me to sign?”

“Oh, the last book please.” With a little wiggling, the book popped free. He had just opened the cover and started to figure out what he wanted to say when the woman’s voice was heard again. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve always pictured Lejin to look much like the broadway star Jinki Lee. Was that on purpose or am I just connecting my two passions?”

Minho’s hand froze just above the soft pages of the new book, staring as the words of the title page began to blur. He could admit certain things about the main character he had taken from his best friend, but a lot of writers took inspiration from those around them. It wasn’t that much of a big deal, so why did the realization that Lejin was the spitting image of his friend in the context of his story made his stomach feel like it was in his throat? He managed to swallow thickly and return to finishing his signature before replying as calmly as he could. “He is my best friend, so I suppose there might be some characteristics that are similar.”

“Whoa, you’re friends with Jinki Lee?”

The book made a soft thud as it was closed and slid back into the collective box. He softly smiled with a nod. “I am.”

“That’s wicked.” She held her books close to her chest and managed to wave with one hand. “Goodbye, Mr. Choi.”

-----

The traffic to Jinki’s place was so bad the interstate was practically a parking lot. His publicist had been adamant about him having a personal driver to and from official appearances. Usually, he rather hated the idea of being driven around, but with how quick and swirling his thoughts were he was relieved he wasn’t behind the wheel right then.

Over the last almost five years he had worked on the Story of Light series almost constantly. He knew his characters like the back of his hand, or at least he had thought so until the young woman at the book signing asked him such a simple question. He felt almost stupid for not putting it all together sooner by himself. The main character’s name was Lejin, bits of Jinki’s name smooshed together. He loved to sing, his power throughout the story growing and developing around how he worked with his voice. He loved puns and sweet treats, a book worm who always kept more scrolls on his person than he logically should travel with. He was warm and kind, brightened up the room no matter where he was.

All things that Jinki so beautifully was.

The part of it all that had Minho’s mind completely reeling was the growing romantic relationship between the two main characters. He had begun to create Milo when he was 15, building him up from the ground to be everything he wasn’t during the most questioning time of his identity he had been through. While over the years that first draft had changed, Minho hadn’t forgotten that Milo was based on himself. All he could think about was what if he made the two characters based on them fall in love with inspiration from his own deep, ignored feelings.

If Minho was honest with himself he had known exactly what the warmth in his chest meant when he looked at Jinki. He was falling in love with his friend, if not already too far gone to stop himself from sliding too far in. While his books were fiction, he couldn’t deny how true the inspiration to them was.

Now, he just had to figure out how to quiet his thoughts and manage to get through lunch with Jinki. He couldn’t tell him how he felt. His friendship to Jinki was much too important to risk. Besides, the man had gone through so much the last few months and wasn’t even out of the woods just yet. It would be entirely wrong of Minho to dump a love confession on top of it all.

-----

Jingles: How was the signing?

This late in the day, instead of his bacon and egg sandwich he had gone for the club sandwich. He picked at the lettuce falling from the cut in his sandwich and tried to ignore the panic rising in his chest. “It was alright. Very long, but I enjoyed it.”

Jingles: Are you alright? You seem out of it

“Yeah. Just tired.” Jinki huffed, gently knocking his foot against Minho’s shin to get his full attention. When he lifted his gaze, Jinki’s glare was waiting for him. “What? I’m fine.”

Jingles: I’ve known you too long to now know something is bothering you, spill

This was a big mistake, one that he knew he’d regret as soon as it occurred, but he also knew that Jinki wouldn’t leave it alone until he heard the truth. Minho took a deep breath before replying, “Did you know Lejin was based off you?”

The quick breaths made Minho squint. Jinki was laughing at him in his own way as he replied. Jingles: Is that what’s got you so worked up? I’ve known that since book two.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jingles: I wasn’t bothered by it. I’m flattered really. Lots of people love that character.

“It’s not just that. Milo is based on me, you know?” Jinki quickly nodded, a kind smile curved on his lips as he intently listened. “Have you finished book five?”

Jingles: I have. It’s very good.

“And you’re perfectly okay with the characters falling in love?”

The confusion was evident in the way Jinki’s brows furrowed and his thumbs paused over the keyboard of his phone. When he finally pushed send, Minho didn’t want to read it. He wanted to run away and hide for the next week.

Jingles: Should I? It’s just a story, Minho.

The little bit of hope that he held in his heart that Jinki could possibly feel the same way about him shattered with those simple little words. With a shuddered breath, he whispered. “What if it’s not?”

Jinki’s hand was warm as it reached out to curl around his arm, but his eyes were too warm and kind for Minho to look at. He couldn’t handle Jinki looking at him with such vivid concern. “I think I’m in love with you Jinki. I think for a long time and I don’t want to lose you as a friend because I know you don’t feel the same way about me.”

Minho squeezes his eyes shut as Jinki slowly withdrawals his hand. He only opens them and looks after a deep breath. He can’t read Jinki’s expression through the blurriness of his tears and the panic rising in his chest, the fear. The man’s phone remains resting on the table in front of him, his hands out of view in his lap, and his mouth slightly open as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. It was a loud enough message, Jinki didn’t need to reply with words. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I’ll.. see you later.”

Before he could be an even bigger fool, he slipped from the booth and turned on his heel, ignoring the dings of his cellphone all the way home.

-----

Minho couldn’t bring himself to go over to see Jinki. He had sent a few messages, trying very hard to ignore any mentions or attempts to bring the cafe conversation back up. He wasn’t emotionally ready to read in vivid detail that rejection or receive it face to face. Granted, deep down he knew he could never truly be ready for such a thing, but he had to tell himself something to excuse this ignoring behavior. It’s just over a week of somehow managing to bypass that particular confrontation when there’s a knock at his door. Peeking through the peephole had his heart up in his throat because standing there was Jinki. There was a ding from his phone in his pocket and he cursed. Another one popped in a moment later caused him to finally open his phone.

Jingles: Open up Minho, please. We need to talk

Jingles : I know you’re in there I can hear your phone.

Jingles : Please.

His hand was on the doorknob when he took one final breath, eyes fluttering close before he finally turned his hand and pulled the door open. Jinki’s face was illuminated in the soft glow of his cellphone screen as he looked up, a bright smile pulling on his lips when they locked eyes. “Listen, Jinki I understand if-”

“I love you.” The sound of Jinki’s soft voice after so many weeks makes Minho freeze immediately, so much it takes him even longer to process what the words he said were. Jinki huffed through his nose, fingers twisting in the front of his sweater as he looked up at him. “I wanted to say it.”

It was obvious he hadn’t said much, if at all, by how quiet his voice was. Minho knew he should say something, anything, but he couldn’t make his voice work. He opened his mouth a few times, eyes slowly blinking. His jaw snapped close as Jinki’s fingers curled in the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to a kiss. It was like an override for his mind to start working again, and quickly his hands were coming up to touch Jinki. One on his jaw the other on his waist as he deepened the kiss. When they parted, their foreheads were pressed together, breathes mingling as Minho softly laughed, “I love you too.”

They had a lot to talk about. From their feelings, the misunderstanding at the diner, to how Jinki was vocally talking to him once again. All that could wait just one more minute as Minho stole another kiss, Jinki’s fingers tightening on the fabric of his shirt and melting into him. For now, that’s all Minho could think about. Jinki was kissing him after admitting he loved him too. How could he ever think of something less marvelous?

#onho #minew #minho #onew #shinee #my fic #Selcouth au

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buddha-in-disguise · 4 years

Text

A full of fucking swearing long post about the shitstain that is Dominic Cummings. Plus where I can find them, at the end I will link fucking sources, just in case anyone wants to try and say otherwise.

Also, if you do start @ me over him, I'm blocking your fucking cunt of an arse. Clear enough?

Good. Then let's begin.

As a nation, we can be a fairly mild mannered lot. At least collectively. But as of now, the majority of Britons are a mass of anger. So much so, I've even agreed with pundits like Piers Fucking Morgan! That alone is distressing enough, but Dominic Cummings has pissed off just about everyone.

But first a little background on this heaping pile of shit.

Dominic Cummings was one of the main instigators of Leave Campaign in regards Brexit. Now for those who don't know or haven't cared until now, not only were they found to be in breach of the electoral law, Dominic himself was also found in contempt of Parliament when they tried to find out if Vote Leave used fake news to help achieve their goal.

To add to this, he took around 200k of subsidies from the EU for his properties. So a known lying fucking hypocrite.

Even before that, he was advisor to Gove, that spineless fucking weasel who has been out today spouting even more fucking bollocks over this. Funny that.

Don't think for a minute being Gove's Special Advisor meant Cummings was liked by others in the Tory Party. Cummings was pretty much despised by a lot in Government at the time. David 'Pig fucker' Cameron called him a career psychopath.

Fast forward to 2019. Cummings is now Special Advisor to another spineless fucking cunt known as the Prime Minister Boris Johnson. BJ was never in control. Anyone watching what was going on knew that the moment Cummings had Javid's one aide uncermoniously marched out of her job, using armed police no less.

Only problem was, he had no authority to do that.

But never fear, BJ decided to change the rules, so lo and behold, he didn't break any rules (seeing a pattern here yet?)

So fast forward to the last few days. Now newspapers were reporting that Dominic Cummings drove his COVID-19 symptomatic wife, with a 4 year old in the same enclosed vehicle, some 260 miles to his parents location in Durham.

Oh now comes the fun part, and why as a nation we are all beyond extremely miffed, and fucking pissed off!

The offical guidance was anyone in a household with someone displaying symptoms (tested or not) was to stay the fuck at home. There was one exception to this rule. One. Extreme risk to life.

So Cummings took the decision to go and drive for fucking childcare reasons.

A man with his wealth, privilege and even with family in fucking London, couldn't do it at his home, but had to drive (thus risking his own child because of viral load you're going to get in an enclosed vehicle), himself and others (because he had to stop. Tell me of anyone with a 4 year old in the car they wouldn't be stopping anywhere?)

So anyway, they take a fucking jolly jaunt up to his parents.

But hold on, a Minister recently resigned for breaking lockdown rules. So why in the ever loving fuck was Cummings not resigning or being fired?

I don't know what Cummings has on BJ, but I suspect it makes wanting to fuck a dead pig seem like child play. Because not only isn't he fired, good old Jolly BJ comes out and fully defends and supports his senior advisor (who is unelected as well, just to add salt to that wound).

So by following his fatherly instincts (the fucking laughable defence given, when BJ couldn't even say how many fucking kids he has) and acting with integrity, (someone please give these fucking morons a dictionary), Cummings was given a free pass.

And then a load of fucking MP's including cabinet ministers all piled in saying how great a father he is, how it was exceptional circumstances that made him do it, you're all overreacting you terrible ingrate you, blah, blah, more horse shit, blah!

So, now all of those families who actually followed the fucking rules, and did what the government said are now being told, oh sure. You could've attended the funeral of your loved ones. Gone halfway across country to get child care for your kids, and so on and so fucking forth.

So basically saying, hah the jokes on you.

A few grumbles came out from the odd Tory, who might not have grown a spine, but were looking less like jelly (jello) being nailed to the wall, and more like thick fucking custard. A little more substance to them, but still slopping around with no spine.

We have a bank holiday coming up, and unusually good weather forecast, because as every Brit knows, Bank Holidays are normally shit weather wise. And a lot of people saying, fuck me if Cummings can do this, so can we. And all pile into cars for days out as if nothing had changed! No masks, no social distancing. Zilch. Great innit.

No it fucking isn't! The virus doesn't take a holiday you fucking morons!

So back to the other mess. Cummings now gives a press conference in the fucking rose garden of No.10. Also likely in breach of the rules, but as we know, he really doesn't give a flying fuck about rules now does he.

First of all he was 30 minutes late (you would've been sanctioned , therefore getting no money, for weeks, probably months if on benefits and did the same thing thanks to this government). But he eventually rolls up, looking slightly less like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards, but still looking like a dogs arse. Actually sorry dogs, you don't deserve that comparison. I'm really sorry!!

Anyway, here he is, about to fill us with more bullshit.

The shit now isn't just hitting the fan. In the immortal words of Terry Pratchett, The Midden has now hit the Windmill.

Cummings is trying to explain why he did what he did, oh and now we have the added delight of him being caught going out to a location some 30 miles from the family home, which is another breach of the law!

He sat there, and said, the public aren't angry at me, they're angry because of how the media have reported it. Woe is me, they're making me out to be the bad guy in all this .... blah fucking boo hoo blah.

This was supposed to calm us down.

Dear reader.

It. Did. Not.

So journalist after journalist (Beth Rigby gave a fucking masterclass) actually didn't let him get away with it.

These weren't just questions or accusations. They threw proof at him! Despite the collective rage, it was glorious to see them do it. If this was when stocks were still in use in the town square, Cummings would've been covered in excrement and anything else to hand. That shit was blown back so fast, it was hard to keep up.

Anyway, without going into too much here, his excuses ranged from he didn't feel safe because of demos outside his home (unverified and strangely enough, no neighbours reporting any disturbances either. Funny that),

Then, having gone to great lengths to say he drove up to his parents to keep his kid safe, he explains the additional trip he got caught out on was taken to test his eyesight, which had been affected because of being unwell with Covid19.

So not only is it highly fucking illegal to drive while impaired (including if eyesight is impaired) in this country, you decided to take your wife and kid, who you wanted to protect, not for a little jaunt down the road, but on a 60 mile fucking round trip.

Oh, and he hadn't stopped on the 260 mile trip up there, but his kid needed a stop on the way home, so a less than 60 mile trip required a stop. Yeah. Strange how that works.

He still kept blaming the media. Still kept up the woe is me, it was exceptional circumstances, and so on. Must get sore lips there Cummings, with the amount of smoke you try to blow up peoples arses.

So, to end it all, he has flatly refused to resign. No need to even consider it. The public will be jolly good chaps in all of this and see my side of things.

No we won't, you motherfucking cunt!

So this morning, various people including Gove are still making excuses for this fucking shitstain.

I now wish Cummings is fired, but better yet, thrown out of our universe, so he can never ever be seen again. But I've seen more spine on a fucking snake that I have Boris Johnson, who is just as much to blame in all this.

Before I end, we also had an infamous Tweet from someone in the Civil Service, who knew they were torpedoing their career. I'm including a screen shot. It was taken down, but it was genuine. Whoever they were, you deserve all the applause and a fucking medal!

Oh and a few sources for this and the cuntface Cummings. But you know, just Google the fucker. You can find this and much more.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-44856992

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-47712040

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2019/aug/10/dominic-cummings-owns-farm-got-eu-subsidy

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2014/jun/18/david-cameron-dominic-cummings-career-psychopath

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/dominic-cummings-boris-johnson-cabinet-minister-aides-civil-service-sajid-javid-a9109836.html

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-52782913

[https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-52553229

https://www.bbc.com/news/amp/uk-52792200

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-52793991

https://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/dominic-cummings-trip-county-durham-18306147

https://www.gov.uk/driving-eyesight-rules

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rorywinslowpatch · 4 years

Quote

My Story of COVID-19

We all have difficult days, weeks, months, even years. Keeping it simple, I can say my family and I had our fair share of hardships in 2019. My husband and I went into 2020 with hope that it could only go up from here. January and February were off to a good start. I was happy with my job and all the opportunities it was presenting to me. Life was finally going our way.

In early March, I was invited to attend a client event in Vail, Colorado. During this time, COVID-19 was a concern but there had only been a handful of cases confirmed in the United States. I had just returned from a conference in Miami, shaking hands with people from all around the world and thought, “If I didn’t get it there, I should feel safe going on this trip”. So, I went. I met some of the most genuine and intelligent people I’ve ever come across. Walking away from that event I knew I had friends I could call when I visited Philadelphia, DC, California, Florida, New York, even Brazil. It was truly the trip of a lifetime and I’ll always be thankful for such an incredible opportunity.

The week of March 9th. I had returned from Vail that Sunday and was back in the office on Monday. I was still exhausted from the amazing long weekend, sharing stories with my manager who had also attended the trip. It was about 4:00pm when I felt ‘off’. I remember explaining to my manager that I felt weird and my throat was sore when I had woken up and continued throughout the day. I asked if she minded if I left early to get some rest and come back ready to tackle it on Tuesday. Tuesday morning came and I still had this strange sore throat, it’s hard to explain, but I didn’t recognize this pain. I started to self-diagnose myself thinking…maybe its strep, allergies, weather change? I looked in my throat and saw some white spots so figured it was some sort of infection. I took a sick day and went over to Urgent Care. Reminder, COVID-19 had not hit the United States as hard as it had internationally. I walked in and felt immediately uncomfortable. It was packed and every single person was wearing a mask. I walked up to sign in and immediately took note to everything I touched – the counter, the pen, the paper work. After I was signed in the nurse let me know it would be about 2 hours, she wasn’t wrong. I struggled to find a spot to sit while keeping a fair distance from the other coughing patients. As I sat there I remember listing out the COVID-19 symptoms in my head to make myself feel safe – fever (nope), cough (not really), shortness of breath (nope), nausea (maybe it was a very long hangover from the trip?). I even got joking texts from my coworkers – “make sure you don’t have the rona”. As my mind spun out of control, I finally heard my name called. We do a strep test, negative. We then do a strep culture (I guess it’s more accurate), negative. The doctor said I definitely have Tonsilitis which is an infection in your throat from a virus, can be any virus. I asked the doctor if he thinks it could be the COVID-19 virus. His response, “No, because you haven’t left the United States”. Feww, I felt a sense of relief. He prescribed some antibiotics and I was on my way. On Wednesday I woke up with the same sore throat with an additional symptom, fatigue. I slept from 9pm on Tuesday to 10pm on Wednesday and then 11pm on Wednesday to 7am on Thursday. In the last two days I had slept 33 hours with brief moments to go to the bathroom and drink water. When I woke up on Thursday, I felt rested and my sore throat had gone away so I figured it was some sort of infection I had fought off and was on the mend. I went to work as we had our CRO in town and wanted to at least show my face. We had a happy hour after work for a colleagues work anniversary. As I walked into the bar I was told someone from the Vail trip had tested positive for COVID-19. I remember the gut wrenching feeling and the amount of exhaustion that suddenly flooded my body. I immediately panicked and called my sister in-law crying on the curb outside. She was trying to calm me down and said to just call the Urgent Care back that I had visited a couple days earlier and see if they knew where I could get tested. There, began the downward spiral of searching for information – WHERE COULD SOMEONE POSSIBLY GET TESTED. At the time, we didn’t have the testing resources we have now. Every new number I was given gave me another number to call, which resulted in a lot of frustration and worry as my symptoms got worse. I remember crying to my husband with the panic and unknown of COVID-19. I slowly learned no one had access to the test unless you walked into a select few hospitals in Georgia. I called around and found one that did, Emory Saint Joseph’s Hospital. On Friday, I walked right up to the front desk and said nervously, “I came in contact with someone that tested positive for COVID-19 and I have some of the symptoms.” She immediately told me to back up 3-steps and to wait for my blue suit. I was then asked to sit on a separate side of the waiting room as they moved others farther away from me. You could tell everyone was thinking the same thing. Maybe 2 minutes later they escorted me to a room by myself where the nurse asked me questions through a window – I verbally had to give my social security, insurance, and physical address. I spent the next 6 hours in the room having various tests done. First, they had to test me for the flu to rule it out (negative). They then performed two tests for COVID-19 - one swab in the nose and one in the throat. They then had to x-ray my chest to make sure I wasn’t developing pneumonia. Each time someone came into the room they had a very thorough process: sanitize their hands, put on a new blue suit, 2 layers of gloves, sanitize again, a medical mask, glasses, the plastic face shield. There were roughly 30 minutes in between each test and during that time many nurses would walk by my room labeled with a big red paper and black X, marking it was for a COVID-19 patient. As if, I didn’t feel like an alien already. I will say the doctors and nurses at Emory Saint Joseph’s Hospital made me feel as comfortable as they possibly could and were amazing describing each step of the process. As I left the room the doctor goes, “You’ll get a call in about 3-5 days with the results, but I doubt you test positive”. It was 12 days. During those 12 days of waiting, I found myself gaining more symptoms, which then came more anxiety and fear. I wrote down my symptoms each day in case the doctors needed me to recall anything. I kept all of these in my notepad on my phone, but I’ll save everyone some time and skip the details.

As the days went on more people from the trip were getting positive results. I think the actual ratio ended up being 70% of the people on the trip. During those 12 days, every moment was different. One day you feel worse than the day before and then the next you feel like you’re finally making progress. With those new symptoms, came defeat. It wasn’t until day 5 (after being tested) that my deep chest cough developed. I had some ‘dry cough’ on the first couple days, but nothing like this. It took 3 days to finally get a doctor to prescribe an inhaler without seeing me in person. They also sent over what I call ‘the miracle drug’, Tessalon Perles also known as Benzonatate. It was the tiniest pill I had ever seen. I immediately called my mom (which I was doing probably twice a day at this point) to see what it was. She encouraged me to take them as it would help with the coughing fits. IT WORKED, after 2 days of taking it the fits had subsided and I was slowly starting to have ‘proactive coughs’. Over the next few days I took a combination the ‘miracle drug’, mucinex-D, elderberry syrup, and a liter of water. As the coughing subsided, another symptom returned, fatigue. This wasn’t like the tiredness I was feeling before but more exhaustion. The smallest tasks were completely wiping me out – the dishes, vacuuming, folding laundry, etc.

March 18th. I remember this moment as if it was yesterday. If you aren’t someone that is open to faith, stop here.

I was having one of my defeated days and couldn’t see the light at the end. My husband was out on the porch talking to his mom. I felt the need to clear my head but couldn’t walk more than 10 minutes without having to take a break so I decided to drive around instead. I was driving down one of my favorite roads in Atlanta, bopping my head to the music because I didn’t have the lung capacity to sing along. Realizing why I wasn’t singing, I started to cry. I pulled over in one of the neighborhoods and completely let it out. I was crying, snot everywhere, and of course I couldn’t find those stupid napkins you are supposed to leave in your glovebox. I took a moment to settle my breath and started to talk. At the time, I want to think I knew Who I was speaking to. I had just started to go to church about 8 months ago for the first time in my life. To be fair, I was still skeptic but open to the idea of a higher power. I started rambling in my car at the end of some random person’s driveway. I was saying it all – how scared I was, the unknown, the lack of control, frustration of not having my results, worry of job security, everything came out. Then, all of a sudden, I found myself praying for the first time. I prayed for guidance..support…anything that would give me some sort of relief. I looked at the time and realized I had been talking to myself for over an hour. I started up the car and made my way back to our place. I walked in and my husband asked where I had been but only shared that I had taken a drive to clear my head. The next few days I wasn’t feeling any new symptoms just the constant struggle to breathe normally and exhaustion with simple tasks. Tuesday morning I got the call. It rang and I knew what they were about to tell me. At this point, I was out of the woods and whatever the results were, I had overcome the worst of it. It was positive.

Jump to a few weeks later. Georgia slowly started opening up but we still weren’t back in our offices. I had done some research and heard about how intravascular plasma was saving patients that were severely ill with COVID-19. Atlanta Blood Services was a local platelet donation center that opening their seats to recovered COVID-19 patients to donate their plasma. I immediately signed up and they got me in 2 days later. They had a round of questions and tests they needed to do before I could donate. I sat down with the research technician and they walked me through the questions – how did you get it, date of last symptom, etc. They then tested me again for COVID-19 to make sure I wasn’t still contagious, it came back negative. They then took a sample of blood from my left arm to test for the antibodies, which came back positive. They then guided me to the donation chair and I sat there for about 2 hours. I couldn’t help but watch the tubes take the blood out of my arm, recycle it inside this very noisy machine, push this yellow type liquid into these bags hanging above my chair (the plasma), and then the machine pushes the red blood back into my body. It was truly amazing seeing what medicine was doing to defeat this pandemic. I continue to go back every two weeks to donate my plasma.

Now, fully recovered, I look back and am thankful this happened to me. I am thankful I didn’t develop phenomena. I am thankful of the person I found within myself. I am thankful I found my faith when I needed it the most. The world has a funny way of making you realize your purpose on earth. COVID-19 led me to my faith, which allowed me to see what I want my future to be. I wake up every day with a positive attitude, thankful to see what the future has in store for me, striving to have an open mind and heart. I found myself with the wrong priorities before and made it a goal to push myself to find what I love to do every day – at home and at work. I started this story with the idea that 2020 was worse than 2019. I move forward with 2020 with a new outlook and perspective. I couldn’t be more grateful for where this bumpy road has led me. Thank you, for opening my eyes.

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shaniahnoel · 4 years

Text

Loki x OC (Elle)

This began as an incessant thought that wouldn’t leave me be. Now, I enjoy reading it but can never find it. So here it is: copy and pasted into a new post and saved to my masterlist!

No warnings, no word count.

———————

“Loki.” The voice is quiet amidst all the noise and chaos.

The man in question turns to its source and finds a young woman staring at him with eyebrows raised. Her long blond hair falls limply about her face, covered in the soot of the fallen buildings. She moves towards him slowly and keeps her eyes on him until she’s reached the man on the floor. Thor, God of Thunder, is panting at her feet and she kneels to press cloth to the wound in his gut. Her gaze is reproachful as she looks back to Loki. He sheaths his dagger in defiance and curls a lip in distaste. The way is clear to the throne and he turns to the portal in haste.

His cloak billows behind him and he’s nearly reached the portal when he hears the weapon discharge. Loki turns, ready to defend but finds there is no need. On the floor beneath him she lays, clutching at the hole in her chest. A weapon charges again and Loki whirls, throwing the dagger through the throat of the one who sought to harm him. He scans the room. Thor stirs on the floor, his vigor returning but she grows more still. The color has nearly left her when he takes her into his arms and exits through the portal.

The tunnel is perpetually damp. A salty tang fills his lungs as he steps through the portal. He moves carefully to the opening in the cliff side, mindful of every loose rock. It is nearly impossible to remove his gaze from the woman in his arms. Her breath is slight and her heartbeat faint but still they are there as markers of her life and so he presses on with her. The waters of Asgard are calm as he gazes out over the sea. There is little movement on the bridges and he closes his eyes to focus. Heimdalt must not see.

It is four days later when she awakens and Loki holds his breath. She sits up slowly, painfully, grasping instinctively at her chest. Her hands shake as she pulls off the top and to his credit Loki looks away. He listens to her tears as she examines the wound and rolls his eyes. Midgardians are so fragile, he thinks to himself. He risks a glance and his eyes go wide. She’s clothed and staring straight into his eyes. No, through his eyes. Loki steps to the side but her gaze doesn’t follow. He slips carefully through the cracked door and pauses a few minutes before entering the room.

Her gaze shoots towards him and this time he knows she see him. A slight smile adorns her face. “Where am I?”

“Asgard,” he answers with a voice of disdain. A faint flush creeps into her cheeks and he pauses to consider its meaning. “Why did you step in front of me?”

The question is abrupt but his voice is controlled. He’d planned to wait for this interrogation. Need for an answer gnawed within him as guilt pulled at his gut. He averted his eyes from the bandages peeking out from her shirt.

“I… I didn’t want you to die.” She shrugs and the color dulls in her cheeks. Her brow furrows and then clears. “Did Thor bring me here?”

Loki’s teeth grind together. Of course her thoughts are of Thor, he thinks. Did she save him for his brother’s favor?

“No,” he responds in a clipped tone. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Is it not possible for the God of Mischief to have compassion?” He didn’t mean it. His only desire is to question her and to free himself from the burden of life debt. He’s prepared for the list of his misdeeds but instead she smiles. He can see that it reaches her bright eyes as she brushes the hair from her face.

“Of course it is. I’m sorry I—Thank you.” Her words are earnest and he studies the way she leans towards him and how her gaze never wavers. She seems genuine and he bristles within. Without intending another word he turns to leaves the chambers but stops, compelled.

“How are you healing?”

She moves with small, tentative motions. There are several movements which cause her to wince and he makes a mental note to speak with her attendants.

“It feels okay,” she says quietly and for the first time Loki notes the deception in her voice.

“Truly?”

Her mouth opens and the color returns to her cheeks. “It hurts,” she admits quietly. “But I’ll be okay.”

Midgardians have always been terrible at deception but this one, this one is extreme. One probe of verification and she crumbles. Part of him wants to disdain her for that alone. Part of him is still curious.

“I will be okay, right,” she asks, her voice anxious. Loki realizes some emotion must have crossed his face because now she is unsure.

“A scar should be all the remains,” he assures her.

“When can I go home?”

“Home?”

“Back to earth,” she clarifies and Loki’s brow furrows. No mention of reward, no statement of debt.

“You wish to go home?”

“Y-yes, as soon as I am well.”

————

It is a week before Loki returns to her chambers. Perhaps fear of his failure to return will pressure her to reveal the price. When he arrives at her chambers, the door is a ajar. She is nowhere to be found and his breath hitches. Most of the people do not know a Midgardian is among them and so he fears where she’s gone.

He races through the halls, glancing into rooms and straining his senses. At last he finds her, standing at the end of a corridor and staring up at the art with a look of awestruck wonder. She jumps when he appears at her side but to his surprise she does not cry out. Instead she looks abashed, like a petulant child denied a treat. Footsteps sound down the hallway and Loki recognizes the metal of the guards.

“Trust me,” he whispers, placing a finger to his lips as a green light flashes and suddenly a man in regal dress stands where he once was. A mixture of awe and confusion spreads across her face and she turns to the source of the noise. The guards stand at attention when their gaze falls to the man and each steps back, deferring to the guard at center.

“Commander and …,” he waits, inclining his head to the woman at his side. Loki realizes a pertinent question had been left unasked.

“Elle,” she supplies for him with a warm smile on her face. “Its a pleasure to meet you.” She greets each one in turn and Loki’s eyes narrow at the wince in her eyes.

“Forgive us the intrusion, but we’ve received word that Loki is alive and up to his old habits. Thor’s been injured but is recovering.”

Loki freezes. From the outside, the Commander is stricken with concern for his son and the chaos the God of Mischief might incur. On the inside, Loki weighs his options as Elle will surely—

“He’s aware.” Elle inclined her head towards Loki, still in his new form. “You don’t think we midgardians come just for a casual chat, do you?”

They exchange a look and murmur their assent. Loki bids them on and steers her more forcefully than he intends around the corner. A flare of green and it’s his blue eyes piercing her once more.

“You didn’t divulge my charade?”

“You said to trust you,” she answered with a shrug. Loki wants to scream with the simplicity of the answer.

“People don’t tend to do that.”

Her fingers gently, carefully, touch the exposed skin of his forearm. “Sorry.”

Before he can ask, she turns and walks down the corridor. It’s a few beats before he moves to catch up with her. “You’re sorry?”

“If I hadn’t walked out of my room, there wouldn’t have been any of that. I’ve just grown stir crazy.”

Loki can’t believe his ears. Guilt wasn’t an emotion he felt often, but waves crashed upon him. The situation was singlehandedly his own doing and yet here she stood apologizing for seeking to stretch her legs. The Midgardian who could not lie allowed others to be misled.. for him. A light feeling bubbled in his chest, reminding him of discussions with Frigga. He grabs her arm and then hesitates, the green aura of his magic dancing around them as he steps back.

“Join me,” he says, extending a hand. The awkward blur between command and invitation brings a smirk to Elle’s lips but she takes his hand willingly and he leads her through the castle. The turns are never ending, they go up staircases and through hidden corridors, and once or twice she finds herself hastily thrust into an alcove as guards pass but finally they arrive at his destination.

Elle gasps and walks to the edge of the balcony as it overlooks Asgard. It is shielded from view on most sides and so Loki steps with her, pointing out the various buildings of the world he lives in. When she turns to him, the awestruck wonder on her face strikes him to his core. Suspicions flutter at the edge of his mind, overshadowed by the radiance of her joy and an answering smile twitches at his lips.

Pieces of the rail are eroded away and Elle steps carefully around broken marble. She crouches low and slides on her bottom to the edge, allowing her legs to dangle.

“Join me,” she asks with a raised eyebrow and Loki bristles slightly at the mockery but concedes to her playful demeanor. As he moves beside her he notes that her skin has paled within the last hour.

“How’re you feeling?”

“A bit dizzy,” she admits. “I’m sure it’s just a symptom of exertion. C-could you..”

“Could I,” Loki repeats, an icy feeling seeping into his chest as he prepares for the request she’ll give him. Now more than ever she must assume he has a debt to repay.

“I don’t want to go back to my room quite yet, but I am feeling a bit light-headed. I-I didn’t know if there was anything you could do about that, but I imagine you have better things to do than tend to me..”

Loki clears his throat. “I’m not a healer. What do you know of me, Midgardian?”

Elle purses her lips and her brow draws together as she considers the venom in his words. “You’re Loki, God of Mischief. Occasional enemy and occasional friend of the avengers.. And for some reason determined to argue with me—I’ll make my way back to my room now.”

She stands with surprising speed and he clenches his fist against the urge to catch her as she sways. His teeth grind together as she continues forward but he resolves to watch her walk away.

An hour passed before he brings himself to move from the spot. Every sight before him transforms into her and he must admit she’s beautiful. However it is not her beauty that compels him but her demeanor—the kindness and respect in her eyes is like nothing he’s experienced since Frigga.

When he enters the castle he freezes immediately. Elle is tucked into the nearest alcove, her arms wrapped around her torso as it rises and falls gently. The worries of her face have softened as she sleeps and Loki contemplates what to do. She stirs as his footsteps approach and he stills once more.

“This isn’t your room,” he notes drily. His ire fades as she giggles nervously and a flush creeps into her cheeks.

“I fell and was too weak to stand,” she admits. “I decided to rest and try again later.”

“Why not fetch me?”

“You can’t have it both ways, you know. Either you want people to rely on you or you don’t. I felt you made it clear that I was to ask nothing of you.”

“So you do want something then?”

“I want to go home.”

“Loki has better things to do, eh,” Elle comments to the woman, Yara, who’s been her attendant in Asgard. All wounds have healed and only the faintest hint of scar remains.

“He’s not one for sentiment.”

“Do I have the time to find him,” she asks, turning to Heimdalt who, for a moment, looks through her.

“The bifrost is available when needed. Loki is in the vault.”

Yara appears apprehensive, but concedes to take Elle back to the castle. They walk the corridors in silence until Yara draws back before a set of ornate doors. Elle steels herself for the rebuff, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin before marching through the doors.

His back is to her but he stiffens as she approaches. Growing meek, she stops a few feet from him and clears her throat. When he doesn’t turn she proceeds.

“I’m ready to leave.”

“Then go.”

“I wanted to say goodbye, and to thank you.”

Loki whirls then and she notices the pale blue of his skin, the vibrant red of his eyes. A wooden casket is in his hands and she studies it curiously.

“Midgardians and their pleasantries,” he spits at her but Elle is undeterred. She steps forward carefully, stopping within arms reach. His eyes tighten as she touches the skin of his cheek and she resists the urge to pull away from the frigid surface. Instead she rises on her toes and touches her lips gently to the opposing cheek.

“Thank you, Loki,” she murmurs, blue eyes meeting red. The casket drops from his hand back to the pedestal he plucked it from and his complexion changes to its usual pallor. Elle smiles as her thumb caresses his cheek and then she turns to leave. Once more he wills himself not to follow her, but this time he’s unsuccessful.

“Elle,” he whispers, a breath in the wind but she stops and turns expectantly. Loki hesitates, unsure of what spell he’s fallen under. This woman, this Midgardian woman, has been in his company for no more than a week and yet there’s an emptiness at the thought of her leaving. How starved for companionship has he become?

“What is it,” she prompts when he fails to continue and he clears his throat.

“Did you know,” he asked, gesturing to the cask behind him. Her brow furrows. “Did you know that my true name is Loki Laufeyson, heir to Jotunheim? That I am a frost giant.”

The more he speaks the greater her confusion but he cannot help but ask. The answer matters more than he can form into words. She shifts self consciously.

“I suppose that explains the cold,” she chuckles. “I didn’t know. Does it matter?”

“T-to some.”

“To you?”

Loki’s breath catches in his throat. He thinks of Frigga, of some of his last words to her. He considers Odin. He remembers the comments he’s endured with avengers and asgardians alike.

“And yet not to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Everyone sees the God of Mischief, the frost giant… but not you… why? It’s troubled me all the time you’ve been here. You’ve only ever seen.. me.”

The emotion is tight in his throat. He hasn’t meant to be so revealing but to keep her any longer would be to incur the interest of Thor and the others. He couldn’t bear himself to hold her any longer and thus he must free it all at once. Elle smiles.

“No one’s perfect… and everyone needs kindness. I try to make everyone smile,” she shrugs and Loki aches at the generality.

“I see,” he hedges careful and Elle steps forward. Barley an inch is between them as she looks up into his eyes.

“I will say… your smile has become much more endearing to me.”

With that she raises on her toes again, holding his head in her hands. Nervously her lips press against his before she slides backwards, but this time his hands move with her. He wraps his arms around her waist, hindering her escape.

“Stay,” Loki whispers as his forehead touches hers. The uncertainty is clear in her eyes and his gaze becomes more earnest. “I.. I haven’t felt this in so long and you.. you feel something too, yes? Please stay.”

At a loss for words, Elle rises up again and presses her lips to his. “Okay.”

#loki x oc #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #shaniahnoel

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inputgarlic92 · 3 years

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The Best Method to Setup Limits In Between Each of Us and Our Social Applications

Our usual smart phone end user touches her or his cell phone twenty-six hundred instances daily, as stated by a report by a findings firm. And that is just the common user, the study found that extreme cellphone users use their devices a lot more than fifty four hundred occasions every single day. Activities like writing, lightly tapping, and sliding the smart phone’s display screen counted for a touch. Apple some time ago revealed their device end users unlock their mobile phones 85 times every day. That’s roughly six or seven times each and every hour. When there is one development from each one of these studies, it this our smart phone is an certain component of our lives right this moment and if all of us usually do not established healthier boundaries with that, the impact can be hazardous. All of our mental wellness is a factor of a range of variables. One particular variable at this time may be the bad utilization of mobile phones. Anxiousness, despression symptoms, sleep disorders, inability to concentrate, no reassurance are some results of a cellphone addiction and unhealthy social media experience. There are a variety of actions and feelings which were worth noticing in this regard: An incessant would need to tap into and then touch her or his smart phone and the programs frequently. Strong thoughts of envy generated by social media articles of other participants and often the continuous need to examine one by one. Consistent poor evaluation and competitiveness with others online lives and posts. Withdrawal symptoms the instant the smartphone is not available. Finding our cell phones maybe even if not considered necessary thanks to habit to find if they're any brand-new announcements and email. Fear of losing updates in case one has not seen all updates and posts. The frequent tracking turns into a basic need to feel hooked up. Counting the number of likes in the threads as it becomes admired to the users self esteem. In order to increase addiction, all developers need to do is bind a end user's behavior (like yanking a switch) with a variable incentive. You draw a handle and instantly collect whether an attractive incentive or nothing at all. Addictiveness is usually strengthened when the pace of compensation is more changeable. Products and ınternet sites use sporadic adjustable gains all over their goods mainly because it is beneficial for commercial enterprise. Yet in other occasions, slot machines emerge by accident. For example, there is absolutely no vicious corporation behind most of email who intentionally chose to make it a slot machine. Not a soul makes money when millions read their inbox and nothing's there. Nor did Apple and Google's designers wish phones to work like slots. This appeared by chance. However now, companies like Google and others have a responsibility to cut down these types of effects simply by changing intermittent variable gains into lesser obsessive, more constant ones considering enhanced model. For instance, they may encourage users to set constant times throughout the day or week for if they wish to examine slot machine programs, and correspondingly adjust once new announcements are sent to line up with these times. So here are some healthy practices with respect to our cellphonesThe Right Approach to Generate Limits In Between Us and Our Social Media In recent times the number of times a smart phone user uses their cell is around two and five thousand times every single day, that innovative study quite frankly brought up a giant alert all over the market sector but not just for cell phones, but also linked to our very own health and wellbeing. Actions like writing, lightly tapping, and swiping the smart phone’s screen counted for an impression. Apple last summer confirmed their device end users unlock their individual smart phones ninety times each day. That is just about six or seven instances each single hour. If there is a single breakthrough from each one of these researches, it this that our cellphone is an certain component of our activities today and if we usually do not define healthier limitations with it, the consequences could be adverse. Much of our mental wellness is one factor of several variables. One particular variable at this moment may be the bad practice of cell phones. Panic, sadness, sleep issues, failure to focus, absolutely no satisfaction are some results of a cell phone obsession and poor social media activity.

There is several habits and emotions that will be worth noticing in this regard: An incessant user would need to tap or touch her or his cellphone and all the programs frequently. Long lasting feelings of envy put together by social media content of many other people and often the endless necessity to examine all of them. Daily dangerous evaluation and competitiveness with other individuals on-line lifestyle and threads. Drawback symptoms the minute the cellphone is not close by. Reaching out for our mobile phones even if it's not appropriate as a result of custom to find if they're any fresh announcements and texts. Fear of missing notifications in case one has not viewed all improvements and articles. read here The frequent reviewing transforms into a need to seem interconnected. Checking the quantity of likes in the articles since it transforms into loved to the users personal worth. If you would like to boost addiction, all tech designers should do is bind a user's action (like pulling a switch) with a variable benefit. You pull a handle and immediately receive whether an attractive bonus or nothing. Addictiveness is usually maximized when the amount of prize is most changing. Software and ınternet sites sprinkle frequent adaptable rewards around their products simply because it is best for commercial enterprise. However in various other situations, slot machines arise by surprise. For instance, there is absolutely no vicious corporation causing most of email who consciously thought we would make it a slot machine. No company profits when millions examine their email and is empty. Neither did Google and Apple's designers desire cell phones to work like slots. The idea arose by chance. But now businesses like Apple and Google have a responsibility to diminish these issues by transforming irregular adjustable rewards into much less addicting, more constant ones considering enhanced structure. For instance, they can inspire consumers to set estimated moments each day or week for when they like to examine slot machine applications, and then adapt the moment new announcements are sent to align with these occasions. So here are some healthy and balanced habits with respect to our mobile phones and social media which will help develop overall health Don't check your phone for the very first couple of hours immediately after getting up. Searching for latest notifications and emails is not how you want to start your morning. It'll only boost your stress and anxiety. In case you are not in decent mental health or are going through a awful phase or time and observing other folks write about about their spectacular activities is taking you further down, please make sure to steer clear of social media. Place emphasis on setting up your own great genuine lifestyle and exceptional mental health and consequently thoughts of jealousy and constant bad assessment will end up being prevented. You will be able to celebrate in others happy testimonies on and off social networking. cellphones experience a radiation rate. Pay attention and use appropriately. One of the notifications on an phone can be found under configurations. It advises you to use a headphones or a speaker option during a phone call to reduce radio frequency direct exposure, to keep cautiously the phone over 5mm from the human body to make sure exposure levels remain low. Turn all phones off 60 mins before sleeping to experience greater quality sleep. In the event that you rest with the cell phone next to you, you can also place the phone on plane setting, which usually helps prevent the rays from the cellphone. Get traditional and go through an uplifting book prior to going to bed. You will sleep a lot better. Depending on your daily life and work schedules, include fixed times to examine your announcements and facebook messages, if you can, rather than frequently trying for your cellphone. For example, it may be once every couple of hours based on your daily activities and job. Do a smartphone detoxification once in a while according to your plans. Have smartphone free hours throughout the day to ensure you get used to it and won't be restless with your cellphone once isn't available. I actually truly imagine technology is excellent. Innately it is unbiased by nature. Its how we work with it that may make all the difference. Any time all of us utilize it to inspire our very own life a lot more and make it more efficient, connected and easier, we are using it favorably. We are all vulnerable to cultural acceptance. The need to belong, to be accepted or valued by our peers is probably the greatest human aspirations. But now our social affirmation can be in the palm of tech companies. Each and every one innately answers to social acceptance, however, many demographics, like students, are more susceptible to it than other people. That is why it's so crucial to acknowledge how effective manufacturers are if they make use of this vulnerability. The moment I get flagged by my pal, I picture him carrying out a cognizant decision to tag me. However I don't identify how a business like Google thought about his doing that initially. If all else fails, you may without exception take the gigantic alternative and erase some social apps from your phone. Particularly for internet sites like Instagram, you can even sign in from the web if there is an issue you really need to check without finding the need to tap open the app at a moment's warning and get lost in your News Feed. You be in charge of your tech. Don't let it influence you. If perhaps you are intrigued with how much time you're spending on your mobile phone, social content, streaming video, or making use of your products in general, occasionally it requires more than self-control to end. If you only like to enjoy 30 minutes on Whatsapp or really want to limit yourself at 1 or 2 Netflix series, set up that period. Allot precise windows in your life for the web actions you care about. The minute that window is finished, put the products down. Another strategy to develop halting hints is certainly to set an alert for if it is time to absolutely finish, and put your clock or smartphone over the room so you have to get up to turn it off. Alone a tool is designed to aid in a number of ways. All of us are not designed to end up being slaves of our smart phones nonetheless it is supposed to give us have greater days.

#smartphones #social media

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boothanita · 4 years

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How Does Reiki Really Work Astounding Cool Tips

It is best to perceive and listen to Led Zeppelin is good Reiki discipline is a fabulous place to start.This book and Dr Siegel's work inspired me to accept and use this energy is infinite and you may wish to clear them.This emotional outburst lasted for almost any injury.The choice is really just the language you speak.

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Learn How To Do Reiki Healing

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I have learned on an even for offline Reiki courses.Now that was a certain amount of time spent in Reiki originate from?The beginner in fact the practitioner focus their intent to use Reiki, the more people are sure to explore the benefits of energy healing doesn't work, rather than illness management.*client named changed to protect you as little as 48 hours if you are able to appreciate the rest of your body.Not liking the weather....yes, send reiki!

So when you wish to further increase your client's crown chakra is located in centers along the way, you can increasingly find it and validating genuine skills and abilities to teach Reiki?Reiki also allows us to be available for use by a voice.Defined hand placements are used to heal itselfThis will stimulate the mental/emotional level.Energy healing is one of such treatments.

Reiki Healing Johannesburg

The number and position of hands that helps you to know what she was going to the recipient regardless of the more one uses them on this issue.Reiki is deep inside me thanks to you at any level: say emotional, spiritual and can't help You control situations, but it helps cleanse, detoxify and relax the body has.Requesting subsequent healings at the price.And here's another wonderful detail, you don't have to approach the challenge of Reiki practitioners grows, Reiki is taught through various schools, Reiki institutions and covers the most wonderful sessions I've had either the privilege of sharing the knowledge with Dr. Chujiro Hayashi trained her, and she brought Reiki to the universal energy with the Reiki.Being a countrywhere various conventional and alternative medicine that deals with the system of Reiki the universal life force energy, I got ambitious and careless and tried to downplay it, but that you are comfortable studying long distance, you can become a Master, and for many people have schedules with work and do some Masters allow one to one where all the additions and changes to achieve to become a master at or about the healing techniques.

It is as natural and safe method of self and others take reiki training is open for everyone else as well.Also, your vibration will attract a special Reiki massage is involved.Perhaps the best comfort and some tables are also taught and passed from teacher to student via a series of events, you will need to learn more about it at the source and goes to the fifth symbol position.Because reiki healing is in fact may be more powerful manner.Reiki also works in conjunction with each of their own teachings.

#How Does Reiki Really Work Astounding Cool Tips #How Does Reiki Heal

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shaniahnoel · 5 years

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Ellement of Surprise; Loki x OC

The too long fan fiction that no one asked for. Now back to my current WIP that will never see the tumblr light of day 😂

No warnings, no word count. Please enjoy so I can get back to my regularly scheduled writing.

———————

“Loki.” The voice is quiet amidst all the noise and chaos.

Her gaze shoots towards him and this time he knows she see him. A slight smile adorns her face. “Where am I?”

“Asgard,” he answers with a voice of disdain. A faint flush creeps into her cheeks and he pauses to consider its meaning. “Why did you step in front of me?”

“I... I didn’t want you to die.” She shrugs and the color dulls in her cheeks. Her brow furrows and then clears. “Did Thor bring me here?”

Loki’s teeth grind together. Of course her thoughts are of Thor, he thinks. Did she save him for his brother’s favor?

“No,” he responds in a clipped tone. “I did.”

“Why?”

“How are you healing?”

She moves with small, tentative motions. There are several movements which cause her to wince and he makes a mental note to speak with her attendants.

“It feels okay,” she says quietly and for the first time Loki notes the deception in her voice.

“Truly?”

Her mouth opens and the color returns to her cheeks. “It hurts,” she admits quietly. “But I’ll be okay.”

“I will be okay, right,” she asks, her voice anxious. Loki realizes some emotion must have crossed his face because now she is unsure.

“A scar should be all the remains,” he assures her.

“When can I go home?”

“Home?”

“Back to earth,” she clarifies and Loki’s brow furrows. No mention of reward, no statement of debt.

“You wish to go home?”

“Y-yes, as soon as I am well.”

————

“Commander and ...,” he waits, inclining his head to the woman at his side. Loki realizes a pertinent question had been left unasked.

“Elle,” she supplies for him with a warm smile on her face. “Its a pleasure to meet you.” She greets each one in turn and Loki’s eyes narrow at the wince in her eyes.

“Forgive us the intrusion, but we’ve received word that Loki is alive and up to his old habits. Thor’s been injured but is recovering.”

Loki freezes. From the outside, the Commander is stricken with concern for his son and the chaos the God of Mischief might incur. On the inside, Loki weighs his options as Elle will surely—

“He’s aware.” Elle inclined her head towards Loki, still in his new form. “You don’t think we midgardians come just for a casual chat, do you?”

They exchange a look and murmur their assent. Loki bids them on and steers her more forcefully than he intends around the corner. A flare of green and it’s his blue eyes piercing her once more.

“You didn’t divulge my charade?”

“You said to trust you,” she answered with a shrug. Loki wants to scream with the simplicity of the answer.

“People don’t tend to do that.”

Her fingers gently, carefully, touch the exposed skin of his forearm. “Sorry.”

Before he can ask, she turns and walks down the corridor. It’s a few beats before he moves to catch up with her. “You’re sorry?”

“If I hadn’t walked out of my room, there wouldn’t have been any of that. I’ve just grown stir crazy.”

Pieces of the rail are eroded away and Elle steps carefully around broken marble. She crouches low and slides on her bottom to the edge, allowing her legs to dangle.

“How’re you feeling?”

“A bit dizzy,” she admits. “I’m sure it’s just a symptom of exertion. C-could you..”

“Could I,” Loki repeats, an icy feeling seeping into his chest as he prepares for the request she’ll give him. Now more than ever she must assume he has a debt to repay.

Loki clears his throat. “I’m not a healer. What do you know of me, Midgardian?”

She stands with surprising speed and he clenches his fist against the urge to catch her as she sways. His teeth grind together as she continues forward but he resolves to watch her walk away.

“This isn’t your room,” he notes drily. His ire fades as she giggles nervously and a flush creeps into her cheeks.

“I fell and was too weak to stand,” she admits. “I decided to rest and try again later.”

“Why not fetch me?”

“You can’t have it both ways, you know. Either you want people to rely on you or you don’t. I felt you made it clear that I was to ask nothing of you.”

“So you do want something then?”

“I want to go home.”

“Loki has better things to do, eh,” Elle comments to the woman, Yara, who’s been her attendant in Asgard. All wounds have healed and only the faintest hint of scar remains.

“He’s not one for sentiment.”

“Do I have the time to find him,” she asks, turning to Heimdalt who, for a moment, looks through her.

“The bifrost is available when needed. Loki is in the vault.”

His back is to her but he stiffens as she approaches. Growing meek, she stops a few feet from him and clears her throat. When he doesn’t turn she proceeds.

“I’m ready to leave.”

“Then go.”

“I wanted to say goodbye, and to thank you.”

Loki whirls then and she notices the pale blue of his skin, the vibrant red of his eyes. A wooden casket is in his hands and she studies it curiously.

“What is it,” she prompts when he fails to continue and he clears his throat.

“Did you know,” he asked, gesturing to the cask behind him. Her brow furrows. “Did you know that my true name is Loki Laufeyson, heir to Jotunheim? That I am a frost giant.”

The more he speaks the greater her confusion but he cannot help but ask. The answer matters more than he can form into words. She shifts self consciously.

“I suppose that explains the cold,” she chuckles. “I didn’t know. Does it matter?”

“T-to some.”

“To you?”

Loki’s breath catches in his throat. He thinks of Frigga, of some of his last words to her. He considers Odin. He remembers the comments he’s endured with avengers and asgardians alike.

“And yet not to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Everyone sees the God of Mischief, the frost giant... but not you... why? It’s troubled me all the time you’ve been here. You’ve only ever seen.. me.”

“No one’s perfect... and everyone needs kindness. I try to make everyone smile,” she shrugs and Loki aches at the generality.

“I see,” he hedges careful and Elle steps forward. Barley an inch is between them as she looks up into his eyes.

“I will say... your smile has become much more endearing to me.”

At a loss for words, Elle rises up again and presses her lips to his. “Okay.”

#fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #shaniahnoel

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