#i am always grieving noah

[deargravity]

i’d rather be waterboarded for information i don’t possess than relive losing noah czerny to the currents of time. i can only go through so much

#the raven cycle #trc #noah czerny #i am always grieving noah #rereading was a bad idea #i don’t think i will touch trk again for a while #the raven boys #remember remember remember remember remember remember #REMEMBER REMEMBER REMEMBER #REMEMBERED #but not for long

[leiawritesstories]

Stick Season (Part 1)

Rowaelin Month 2023, Day 1: Song Fic

inspired by "Stick Season" by Noah Kahan (giggles in Frederick) I've had so much fun writing this and I am beyond excited to share it with all of you! happy Rowaelin Month once again! <3

Word count: 2,480

Warnings: swearing, bad decisions, heartbreak, not-great parenting, angst, simmering sexual tension, pining idiots in love but they won't admit it

Enjoyyyy! (yes there will be more, i promise)

@rowaelinscourt

Prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Downtown Orynth, Vermont, still looked exactly the same as it always did when Aelin paid her occasional, brief visit to her hometown. Same “cozy” wooden buildings, same storefronts lining Main Street, same pine boughs wrapped around the light posts, same dusting of snow brushed across the rooftops in a postcard-picture kind of perfection. Same kindhearted shopowners waving at her as she strolled down the cleanly swept sidewalk. 

If she smiled hard enough, maybe she could pretend there wasn’t a gaping hole in her heart. 

Three years since she cut the other half of her soul out of her life, and no amount of friendship and laughter and girls’ nights could fill the empty chasm that leaving Rowan left in her. 

“Aelin?” The voice came from her left as she passed the local bookstore, a place where she’d spent some of the happiest hours of her youth. 

She turned. “Philippa!” A genuine smile curved up her lips. “I didn’t think you were still working here all the time.” 

Philippa waved off the mild protest with a flippant hand. “You know how busy it gets at this time of year, my dear.” She pulled Aelin into a warm hug. “It’s so good to see you again!” 

Aelin melted into the older woman’s motherly embrace. “Want to know a secret?” 

“Is that even a question?” Philippa laughed, opening the bookstore door and nudging her inside. “I live to collect secrets.” 

“Of course you do,” Aelin chuckled. “Well, here it is: I wasn’t planning to be back home this year. Or next year. Or anytime soon, really.” She blew out a short, sharp sigh. “I’m only here because…well…” She trailed off, not fully ready to voice the reason she’d returned. 

Philippa patted her arm. “It’s alright to let yourself grieve, dear. Your mother’s passing was a shock to all of us.” 

“And something of a relief,” Aelin mumbled under her breath. 

Ever tactful, Philippa pretended not to hear. “Will you be here through New Year’s?” she asked, smoothly changing the somber subject. 

Aelin nodded. “Yes. I’ll drive back to New York sometime around January fifteenth, unless Dad needs me for longer. I’m working remotely until then.” 

“Thank goodness for modern technology, right?” 

“Right.” She half-grinned. “I don’t suppose you’re still resisting that modern nonsense, hmm?” 

Philippa pretended to hide. “You caught me.” 

Aelin fake-groaned. “How many times have I told you that it will help the bookstore grow? Think of all the customers you could reach with something as simple as a website and maybe an Instagram profile!” Pasion seeped into her words, coloring her thoughts with excitement. “And you could easily keep up with the online orders–that crappy old monitor you have barely runs basic word programming, let alone internet.” 

“You be nice to Mort, now,” Philippa teased. She’d named the bookstore’s ancient computer Mort in honor of the many times it had brushed with death. 

“Mort deserves to be laid to rest once and for all,” Aelin laughed. “Are you trying to keep me in town or something, asking when I’m heading home?” 

“Maybe.” The older woman’s laugh lines crinkled as she grinned. “Or maybe I’m just planning to offer you a job here while you’re in town.” 

“You know I work in publishing, right?” Aelin raised her brows. “I’m pretty sure that’s enough books and book stuff for one woman.” 

“How long has it been since you remembered why you work in publishing in the first place?” 

The question made Aelin stop in her tracks, mind whirling as she sifted through years of memories. “I…years. God, it’s been…years.” For a moment, yearning flickered across her face. “Maybe not since the last time I volunteered here at Christmas.” 

“Exactly.” Philippa gave Aelin’s hand a motherly squeeze. “Christmas season is far too busy for one old woman to handle alone. So…will you help me?” 

A fond smile curved Aelin’s lips. “Of course I will.” 

~

Snow-dusted evergreen boughs adorned the lampposts of downtown Orynth, weaving their crisp pine breezes through the early evening air. Hands tucked into the pockets of his quilted flannel jacket, Rowan strolled down Main Street, determined to avoid being sidetracked into one of the golden-lit shops that smelled invitingly of cedar, maple sugar, pine, and spiced cider. Christmas scents always had been his weakness, despite the pain he couldn’t separate from the holiday. 

A single paper bag dangled from his left wrist, the only sign that he’d been out shopping for the holidays. His entire brood of cousins was about to descend upon Doranelle, the next town over, for the next few weeks, so he’d come into Orynth to pick up a few things. He refused to admit that the massive canister of peppermint hot cocoa mix was an impulse buy–it had been on sale, and he knew how much his relatives adored all the sweet holiday treats. 

It had nothing whatsoever to do with peppermint hot chocolate being Aelin’s favorite. Nothing.

“Whitethorn?” The call came from his left. 

Rowan turned towards the voice. “Who–” 

“Whitethorn! It is you!” Aedion Ashryver stepped out of Staghorns Tavern, a popular local brewery. “Come inside, man, have a drink.” He pulled Rowan into a brief, back-slapping hug. “Good to see you again.” 

“Good to see you too, Ashryver.” Rowan returned the hug but hesitated at the offer of a drink. “I dunno about the drink, though.” He raised his shopping bag. “Gotta go home and prepare the place for the Whitethorn horde.” 

Aedion snickered. “You’re still letting them crash at your place, huh? Thought you would’ve liked the house to yourself every once in a while.” 

Rowan shrugged. “It’s a big house, and I live alone all the rest of the year.” He flashed Aedion a smirk. “Besides, Sellene and Enda would just barge in anyways, so I might as well allow it.” 

“Fair enough.” Aedion glanced into the brewery, waving off someone inside. “You sure you don’t want to grab a quick drink? I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever.” 

“Yeah, give me a rain check on the…” Rowan trailed off into silence, his brain stalling at the sight of Aelin Galathynius opening Stag’s door and grabbing her cousin by the arm, halfway through a teasing jibe about Aedion wasting his body heat trying to warm up the December chill. 

“...not worth it to–oh.” Her wide-eyed turquoise gaze slammed into Rowan with all the force of an avalanche. 

“What are you doing here?” The question, though whispered, tore out of him with the force of a deafening scream. 

Aedion brushed a protective touch over Aelin’s shoulder, murmured something softly into her ear, and slipped back into the brewery, wisely leaving the two of them alone. 

She swallowed thickly and steeled her spine, meeting his stare head-on. “I’m home for my mother’s funeral and the holidays.” Her tone was cool, detached, nothing more than an old acquaintance responding to a casual question. 

“I–I had no idea,” Rowan murmured. “I’m so sorry, Aelin.” 

“Don’t be.” She snorted quietly, her shields snapping back into place as swiftly as they’d fallen. “About Evalin, Rowan. Don’t be sorry.” A pause, a crack in her controlled exterior. “I can’t say I am.” Her expression sharpened. “Can I ask what you’re doing out here…um, by Staghorns?” 

He read the unspoken question, finding himself surprised that she hadn’t asked outright. “I was in Orynth to pick up a few things before my cousins get here tomorrow, and I was heading down towards the parking lot.” Downtown Orynth was strictly car-free, so the town had built parking space by the edge of the no-traffic zone. “Your cousin saw me, so I stopped for a bit.” And held off the alcohol, he added, silently. 

She nodded in understanding. “I…I should go.” She turned. 

“Wait!” Unexpectedly, he reached for her hand, stopping himself with bare millimeters between his skin and hers. “I…when are you leaving?” 

“After New Year’s.” The words were clipped. 

The shields encasing his heart slammed back down with finality. “So you’ll just up and leave again, no warning, not telling anyone?” He laughed, a sound as brittle as the winter air. “I don’t know why I expected any different.” 

“Some things never change,” she whispered, half to herself, her voice teetering dangerously close to anguish. Without another word, without a backward glance, she yanked open the brewery door, walked in, and vanished into the crowd packed into the bustling space. 

His heart a tangle of stormy emotions, Rowan turned on his heel and strode down the rest of the street, not stopping until he reached his pickup. There, he dropped his shopping bag in the back seat, leaned himself against the truck’s battered old green frame, and breathed as deeply as he could. Eyes screwed shut, he allowed the flood of memories to wash over him, sinking into the aching familiarity of her golden hair and wild laugh, her burning resilience and unwavering strength. The watery croak of her voice when she told him she was sorry three years ago. The tsunami of anger and rage and grief and torment that had ripped through his whole being for weeks after that afternoon.

Then he locked those precious, shattered memories back into the dark recesses of his mind, swung himself up into the truck, and drove off into the December night. 

~

Three Years Ago

Rowan pulled into his driveway in shell-shocked silence, muscle memory guiding him out of his truck and into the house. He kicked off his boots in the mudroom, shook the loose snow off the soles, and placed them neatly on the rack. Numbly, he shed his thick winter jacket and hung it on its peg, made sure he was free of tray snow and ice, and walked into the warmth of the wood-paneled house. 

A beer bottle shattered at his feet the second he came through the door. 

“The hell y’been, boy?” His stepfather’s slurred words were barely distinguishable. 

“Work, then the store.” Rowan had learned years ago to keep his words as brief and subdued as possible, lest he face another of Arobynn’s famous eruptions of drunken wrath. “Picked up another six-pack.” He placed the case of beer bottles on the kitchen counter. 

Arobynn squinted at the six-pack. “Leas’ y’did one thing right,” he sneered. “Clean up the fuckin’ floor, boy.” He grabbed two bottles of beer and stumbled back out into the living room, where he collapsed into his reeking, tattered old leather recliner and lost himself in his usual world of alcohol and blaring television. 

Rowan clenched his fists and jaw and picked up the broom. He made quick work of the broken glass, dumped it in the trash bin, put away the broom, and grabbed some food as he hurried off to his room. Arobynn’s alcoholism was a blessing, in a way–he confined himself to that side of the house, not moving much between the den, the kitchen, and his bedroom and bathroom. It meant that Rowan could stay in the master bedroom, which was at the other end of the house, and keep the rest of his family home as clean as possible. 

Every time he looked at the single portrait of his parents that adorned his bedroom wall, he swore he could hear their sorrow at the state of their once-beautiful home. 

That goddamn crash had taken so much from the Whitethorn family. 

Rowan was only a child when he lost his dad, and his mother had been so buried in her grief that she’d failed to see the giant blaring red flags of the first man that showed her any affection. She’d married Arobynn Hamel partially out of what she thought was love and partially out of necessity; the property needed another pair of adult hands to maintain it, not to mention another income. It was only a few months before Arobynn’s true colors showed themselves. 

For five years, Rowan’s mother had stayed strong, protecting her son by sacrificing herself. She’d protected her son from his stepfather’s fits of drunken rage, from the anger that reverberated through the house, and even from the knowledge of her medical diagnosis. When he lost her, too, Rowan lost all hope that his life could be anything but alcohol and anger and abuse. 

Then he went away to college and met Aelin, and her warmth rekindled his frozen soul. 

Watching her drive away from him mere hours ago had ripped the fragile, carefully patched scraps of his heart into bleeding shreds. 

Fuck it. If he didn’t blow off some steam now, he’d do something he’d regret later.

As silently as possible, Rowan slipped out of the house, crossed the snowy yard to the barn, hauled open the door that desperately needed some oil, and flicked on the overhead lights, illuminating the large, chilly, wooden-beamed space. He’d slowly transformed the barn into a gym over the years, picking up old equipment at estate sales and local gyms who were remodeling or getting rid of old machines and other stuff. Right then, he only had eyes for the punching bag–his favorite way to release the pent-up anger his fists itched to rain down upon Arobynn’s worthless face. 

He took off his jacket and sweatshirt, pulled on his well-loved boxing gloves, and strode over to the punching bag. With a grunt, he launched into a punishing round of strikes and punches, pummeling the taut leather sandbag with enough force to send it rocking on its chain. That first volley loosened the knot of tension in his chest, opening the floodgates, and every tangled, indecipherable, raw emotion he’d bottled up came pouring out in the erratic rhythm of his gloved fists (and occasionally his shoes) against the punching bag, interspersed with hoarse yells, broken shouts, curses, groans, and grunts. He lost himself in the slap of leather on leather, barely remembering to draw breath, slapping and punching and kicking until the flood of grief and pain and rage had subsided enough for his head to clear. 

Chest heaving, rare tears seeping hot and salty down his face, Rowan sank to the weathered wooden plank floor, buried his head in his hands, and felt the crushing weight of abandonment, an old familiar companion, press down upon his shoulders once again. 

Although he didn’t know it, Aelin was curled in the same position on the floor of her childhood bedroom, her face buried in her hands, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks. The same anguish tore through her ruined heart, a white-hot knife of grief and guilt piercing her to her core. Leaving him was the last thing she ever wanted to do; it was like splitting herself in half. Yet she had left him, tossed him to the snowy curb without a backward glance. Leaving him shell-shocked on the edge of the highway, heart in his throat and the winter wind whistling through his empty hands.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #stick season #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin modern au #based off a song #song fic #rowaelin month 2023 #rowaelinmonth2023 #stick season the fic #inspired by noah kahan ofc #rowaelin winter au #rowaelin holiday au #winter holiday au

[wjtysghjfg]

Lines from songs I think are heavily Darlin coded. (A bit of DarlinxSam as well)

"Take me to war, honey I dare you. I'll be the sweetest thing to ever scare you. Give me a fight I cant resist, give me something to break with my fist. Take me to war, honey I dare you."

-Take me to war by The Crane Wives

"That I'd walk so far just to take, the injury of finally knowing you."

-Unknown/Nth by Hozier

"Her eyes and words are so icy. Oh but she burns. Like rum on the fire. Hot and fast and angry as she can be. I walk my days on a wire

It looks ugly, but it's clean

Oh momma, don't fuss over me

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine. Open hand or closed fist would be fine. The blood is rare and as sweet as cherry wine."

-Cherry Wine by Hozier

"Oh I am not the fool I was when I was younger. Crocodile eyes, I have seen how you hunger. Fluttering your lashes, like ashes and embers. Warm and bright as fire devouring timber. No, I cannot trust what you say when you're grieving. So, my love, I'm sorry, but still, I am leaving."

-Exeunt by The Oh Hellos

"Always an angel never a god."

-Not Strong Enough by Boygenius

"I would not ask you where you came from. I would not ask and, neither would you. Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do."

-Like Real People Do by Hozier

"Oh Ashes ashes, dust to dust. The devil has the both of us. Oh lay my curses all to rest, make a mercy out of me."

-Curses by The Crane Wives

"If the sun don't rise, till the summer time. Forgive my northern attitude oh I was raised on little light."

-Northern Attitude by Hozier and Noah Kahan

"All I know, you love me so. But that still leaves something sick in me."

-Wine and the Wheat by Madds Buckley

#redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted audios #redacted headcanons #redacted sam collins #redacted darlin

[tlou-reid]

prologue - the view between villages

♡ DISCLAIMER: this story deals with heavy, dark, and triggering themes. warnings will be included on each chapter. this story is 18+, minors do not interact. (also i can not guaranteed my timeline is exactly right but i am doing my best)

♡ DISCLAIMER: i am incapable of writing songs so reader's music will all be from noah kahan's stick season. songs used in each chapter will be linked at the beginning, and the character is inspired by the story he creates throughout the album.

♡ WARNINGS: mentions of alcoholism, death of a sibling, death of a parent, allusions to domestic abuse, mentions of murder (nothing more than what is shown in tlou), break-up, mentions of terrorism/bombings (just briefly, nothing intense), mentions of infected

♡ fem!musician!reader x ellie williams (eventually)

❥ part one

Burlington QZ, Vermont, 2021

Standing over your own mothers body was not something you had planned on. Especially not on your way out of the QZ, running from the bombers who had shown up. You felt guilty more than you felt sad. Part of you was screaming, 'finally! I don’t have to parent my own parent anymore!', while the other part of you was six years old, sitting on the edge of a broken bed, being held by your mom as she read you a story. Her face was bruised, but you didn’t know what from. You just knew you heard the door slam when dad left. The bottle by her bed had not been touched in days. Even at six years old, you knew the liquid by her bed was bad for her, even if you didn’t know why.

You only stopped for a second to grieve your mother, before following the crowd out of the QZ, clutching your beat up journal to your chest with one hand, and pulling your little sister along with the other. It was all you had as you escaped, moving to the next place you could call home for a little bit, just as you had done when you arrived in the Burlington QZ. Except that time, it was your mother cradling in her arms your sister as you ran. Part of you was going to miss Vermont. Part of you was always going to be in Vermont.

Middle of nowhere, USA, Early 2023

You couldn’t help but smile as you shoved the clothes that were strewn about the floor into your bag. This mall had been loaded with things, almost never raided. There was clothes, accessories, shoes. Sure, you should probably be grabbing supplies, but there were plenty of supplies in the town. That was her job, she kept you safe. She kept you safe, and, in return, all she asked from you was for you to love her. To cherish her.

It was almost like you two were grown-ups. Living together, taking care of your little sister together. It was the closest thing to bliss a 16 year old could come to in an apocalypse. It was all you could ask for. Everything about her molded perfectly together with you, as if she was made for you. She was everything you’d ever wanted, wrapped into one 18 year old girl. Your life with her was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You brought the bag home, throwing it on the table to start sorting through your haul. It was stupid to any outsider. You’d been ridiculed many times, told your focus wasn’t where it needed to be. But collecting these things brought you joy, and that was enough for you to keep collecting all of your things. Clothes, shoes, old makeup, accessories, nail polish. You loved it and refused to feel ashamed about it.

Middle of nowhere, USA, Late 2024

The snowed was piled around your feet, almost standing toe-to-toe with her. “You killed her?” Your voice was jaded, angry.

It was unfair. In all sense of the word, it was unfair. It was unfair to her, blaming her for making the correct decision in a life or death situation. It was unfair to you, hurting because your little sister was dead. And it was unfair to your little sister. Unfair that she never had a chance after the infected sunk its teeth into her collarbone. Unfair that she was forced to grow up in this shithole of a world.

She followed you, explaining the situation as you stormed through the house. You shoved as much as you could in a bag, wanting to get as far away from her as possible. As far away from this place as possible. You wished you could say that what she was saying was going in one ear and out the other, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even reaching your ears. It was filling the room, evaporating with the memories you three had shared in your makeshift home.

A home you’d never see again.

Jackson QZ, Wyoming, 2026

“Thank you, for all of this.” You couldn’t help but express your gratitude as you sat down your bag and guitar case. They brushed you off, saying it nothing. Maria and Tommy had been nothing but good to you since they found you. “You’re sure it’s okay here?” She asked, smiling sadly at you. You nodded, “it’s wonderful. Thank you guys.”

When they left the house was oddly quiet. Even with being alone, wandering all this time, you hated the quiet. That’s the only reason you’d lugged around the guitar case. Since you’d found it, wherever you went, it went.

You picked it up, moving to sit on the couch that came with the place they were letting you stay in. You strummed the familiar chords of a song you couldn’t bring yourself to ever finish writing.

“Air in my lungs, ‘til the road begins,” you started singing to yourself, “as the last of the bugs, leave their homes again,” the tears started to fall, “and I’m splitting the road down the middle, for a minute, the world seemed so simple.”

Jackson QZ, Wyoming, 2027

“Just like all the other ones, I wrote this one about a life that doesn’t exist for me anymore. This is stick season.” You introduced the song, strumming on your guitar. You began singing, closing your eyes and getting lost on the music. You heard a few voices singing along, as this was a town favorite. You opened your eyes and smiled as almost everyone in the bar sang the line, “Doc told me to travel but there’s infected on the place.”

You continued into the chorus, eyes closing again. They didn’t open until you heard the door and a group of people cheer. Your eyes followed the crowd, landing on who you thought was Joel Miller. He was with Maria and Tommy. The rest of the group was strangers, but you'd heard plenty of people talk about Joel. His resemblance to his brother also grabbed your attention. Maria shot you a smile and wave. Your eyes fell on the pale teenage girl with him, taking note of how pretty her curious, wide eyes were.

Your eyes closed again after taking her in, “So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad, that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad…”

#the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us blurb #tlou imagine #ellie williams #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #tlou x reader #tlou x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the show must go on #Spotify

[bi-bard]

It's Like I'm Still Here with You - Jack Kline Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: It's Like I'm Still Here with You

Pairing: Jack Kline X Reader

Based On: Still

Word Count: 950 words

Warning(s): spoilers for season 15/14, grieving, mention of canonical death/violence

Summary: [Early Season 15] After Chuck kills Jack, (Y/n) is left feeling guilty for grieving. Sam attempts to comfort them, only for (Y/n) to confess to something that no one had properly considered.

Author's Note: I am in pain. This deadass hurt so much.

STICK SEASON - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I used to think that if I kept working then I could avoid any potentially distracting thoughts.

I learned the hard way that it didn't always work like that.

I just kept replaying it all in my mind, looking for a moment when I could've stopped everything. Small things. Words spoken, steps taken, hands held up or out. I could've stopped all of this.

All of the possibilities swirled my mind enough to make me sick.

Or that sick feeling came from the guilt.

After God decided that our world had finished being what he wanted, he opened Hell's doors, allowing an army of spirits to overtake a small town. It was what he had always done, truly. God- all-powerful and all-knowing- doesn't truly give a shit about us in the end. He was happy to watch his creations burn in the name of good entertainment or blind worship.

And he wonders why so many people hate him.

I was in the small office of the high school that we used to house the town's population. I had been taking a head count before and getting a list of missing family members and friends. It was the best choice for me.

Truthfully, I think Dean was scared I would kill Belphegor- the demon who possessed Jack's body- if I were to get too close.

Jack.

I don't think I've ever had a name sit like a rock in my chest in the same way theirs did.

We had been close. Incredibly close.

And then, everything went wrong.

Nick tried to summon Lucifer, Jack stopped Lucifer and Nick, Jack killed Mary, God tried to force Dean to kill Jack, and then God killed Jack when Dean refused.

I saw the pain that Sam and Dean went through after Mary died. Watching them in so much pain made me feel wrong for how much pain I felt after Jack was killed. Dean had been so convinced that Jack was evil and was just going to be another problem for us to fix. But I still couldn't shake how much I missed them.

I missed Mary too. Of course, I did.

It was all just so... much. Confusing and terrible and overwhelming.

I didn't see Sam walk in.

"(Y/n)?"

I jumped a bit before letting out a sigh. "Don't sneak up on people right now, Sammy."

"Sorry," he replied. "You alright?"

"About as alright as possible," I shrugged. Dismissive and vague. I was starting to sound like Dean. "I... I got the headcount done. And there's a list of missing relatives that we should look for."

"Good," he nodded. "I called Rowena to help us."

"Okay."

"Hey," he said. "I... I can see that you're holding back tears."

I closed my eyes for a moment and shook my head, willing all of my emotions back down. Or inviting them to disappear completely. Either scenario would've worked for me at that point.

"If you need to sit down for a while, that's okay, I can take over here-"

"No," I said quickly. "I... I need to keep working, Sam. I can't just sit around. I... I can't. I'll find something else to do."

"It's about Jack, isn't it?"

I closed my eyes again.

"(Y/n), come on, you need to take a minute," he insisted. I shook my head. "(Y/n)-"

"No, Sam. I told you no."

"(Y/n)-"

"I loved them, Sam," I stopped him.

The air around us shifted. I watched the realization process on Sam's face. I felt the twisted guilt in my stomach again. It felt like it was crawling up my throat like vomit. I could swear that I felt it burning my body.

"And- And I didn't say anything because I thought it would just confuse them," I continued, running my hands over my face. " I lost the chance. I just... I can't help thinking that if I had said something before... just so they could know... I could've stopped all of this."

I was suffocating. I was certain of it.

"And after... after everything that happened with Mary, I... I feel like I shouldn't still love Jack, but I do," I felt a sob fight its way out of my throat before I could even think to stop it. "It all just... I feel terrible. And now, I have to watch some demon walk around in Jack's body like they were nothing and I-"

"Hey, hey..."

Sam walked over and pulled me into a hug as the sobbing overtook any words that could've come out of my mouth. I had never cried like that before. I was completely frozen. I couldn't physically do anything other than sob.

"You aren't terrible," Sam promised. "Not at all. Being in love doesn't make you terrible. It's okay to grieve. It's okay."

I tried to completely hide my face from everything around me. I felt Sam hug me a little bit tighter.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

I took a deep breath, trying to accept that idea.

"I need you to go sit down," he continued before stepping back. "No working on this for a little while. Just relax."

"No, I need to help-"

"The warding it up and we're watching for Rowena. Go sit down."

I nodded, letting him lead me away from everything in the small office.

I kept trying to convince myself that I didn't need to apologize for grieving. It wasn't exactly a simple idea to accept.

I ran my hands over my face as I laid down for the first time in what was probably days.

One day, I kept thinking to myself. I'll accept that thought one day...

Just not yet.

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

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#jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

[allthewriteplaces]

Magnolia In May ~ Chapter Nine

Author's Note: Hello, again! I hope you all had a positively wonderful holiday season just like I did, and to those who might not be feeling in the festive spirit right now, I am sending you all the love and wishes for a better year ahead.

Chapter Summary: The Shelby children go to the zoo with their teacher and their governess, however, a few comments seem to throw everyone off guard.

Chapter Warning(s): Implied racism (brief), mentions of death of a loved one (brief)

Word Count: 3612

Chapter Nine

Friday came sooner than we anticipated, but to the kids, three days was a long time to wait. Excited, they crawled into the back seat of the car. I’d made sure they dressed appropriately, insisting that they wear their raincoats and boots instead of their nice shoes because we didn’t want to get mud all over them. I sat in the passenger’s seat and their tutor, Mister Collins, sat in the driver’s seat. He was in his early thirties. His dark hair was always parted neatly to one side and a thick moustache growing just above his bottom lip, like a cat’s whiskers. His brown eyes were as deep and soulful and captivating as his voice. His father was American, born and raised in Louisiana, and he travelled to London for business, which is how he met his wife.

Now they were both happily married for almost five years and with a little one shortly on the way. He said he never would have imagined this sort of life for himself, he never thought he would be this happy and he told me that sometimes he thought that it was all a dream and that he would wake up, back in America, back at the farmhouse, back to grieving the loss of his parents and struggling to take care of six siblings on his own.

He didn’t tell me all the details about how his parents died and I understood why. Even though my aunt and uncle took very good care of me, treated me like I was one of their own daughters, whenever I thought about my parents, our last few moments together, and the last words they ever said to me, I would start crying.

All he said was that it was around Christmas when it happened, that it came from out of nowhere, and that by the time they were able to receive treatment, it was too late, the sickness had already consumed too much of them.

Even with all the money they’d all saved, they could not afford a funeral, and so they simply buried them out in the fields where they spent a lot of their time tending to livestock and harvesting the food that they’d grown with their own two hands, with two crosses that he and his younger brother, Noah, built with some pieces of driftwood they’d once stumbled upon while making one of their food deliveries.

Life was hard, he’d told me, but with a lot of determination and a lot of hard work, he was able to get where he was today and all of his siblings were happy as well, getting married and having children of their own. He was an uncle to twelve children, eight handsome boys and four beautiful girls.

The kids were thrilled when they saw the car pull up in the driveway and practically ran outside without their coats and boots to greet him, that is before he told them that he wouldn’t move an inch until they got properly dressed.

You would think that because it had just rained the night before — of course — and was so dreary out that no one would want to go, but the children had been looking forward to the trip for weeks and they’d been doing really well in school, that the teachers couldn’t break the promise they’d made them.

“Jessie, have you ever been to the zoo?” asked Ruby as we started the long drive to London. I turned to face her in the passenger seat and I shook my head. While I had been to the zoo before, I only had vague memories about it since Marie was just a baby the last time we went. The kids would be more apt to remember than me. “You’re going to love it.”

“Yeah,” Charlie piped in, “there are lions and tigers and bears —”

“Oh, my!” I gasped and they both giggled. Even Mister Collins smiled, which surprised me because I’d never known him to have a cheerful disposition. He always took his duties as a tutor seriously, perhaps too seriously, so maybe this trip brightened his spirits a bit, too.

“I’m a little scared of lions,” he admitted.

“What about tigers?” I asked.

“Definitely. I came across a tiger once. He wasn’t too pleased to see me.”

“Are you afraid of bears, too, Mister Collins?” Ruby wanted to know.

“I’ve never met a bear before,” he said, as we passed over a bump in the road.

“What about a teddy bear?” She held up her bear and he gasped, placing a hand over his heart and Ruby laughed. “You’re scared of teddy bears?”

“They are terrifying!” he said in a joking way while pretending to be scared.

“You’re funny, not like my daddy though, he’s funnier.”

“Is he now?” he chuckled.

“He makes Jessie laugh so hard she falls off her chair.”

“I don’t fall off my chair,” I said.

“Do, too,” Ruby argued.

“Hm, I’ve never known Mister Shelby to be the ‘funny’ sort,” he mused. “Every time I see him, he always seems grumpy and grouchy, like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or someone burnt his toast.”

“He does have his hands full,” I reasoned, “Work, family, finances, the lot.”

“He has nightmares, too,” said Charlie softly, his smile faltering.

“You know about those, too, eh?” I placed a comforting hand on his knee.

“Yeah. I hear him shouting sometimes.” He rubbed his eyes. I knew this probably wasn’t the time or place to talk about these sorts of things, especially not with someone outside the familial circle, but Mister Collins seemed to understand, he fought in the war, too, and besides, if it was bothering Charlie, I would rather have had him get it off his chest rather than have him worry and have it spoil his day at the zoo.

He was such a sensitive boy and things bothered him more than they bothered Ruby. Mostly because he was older and had a firmer understanding of what was going on around him. He knew his father stayed up late working, and that when he was gone, he was scared he wouldn’t come home.

“Your daddy told me about the nightmares and he said he didn’t have one last night, or the night before.” I said, trying to comfort him.

“Really?” he asked, his face lighting back up again.

“Yep,” I nodded and he smiled, turning back to the road. I didn’t mention the fact that I stayed with him, mostly because he was also old enough to understand that people who liked each other shared the same bed. I just hoped he had some innocence left, and didn’t know about the details. Not that Thomas and I did any of that.

“When are we gonna get there?” Ruby asked.

“Soon, love,” said Mister Collins, “soon.”

Two hours was a long time for a young child to remain in one place, so for them, soon, seemed like an awfully long time. On the bright side, we were halfway there and the kids were entertaining themselves in the back seat. I was happy to just look out the window and the second we drove into London, with its tall clock towers and impressive bridges, I couldn’t imagine anything more exciting.

We arrived at the zoo not long after, parked in the lot and stepped outside. The air was a bit warmer than it was before and when we stepped out of the car and we walked up to the gate, above us, there was a sign that read: North Entrance, Zoological Gardens. Presumably, this was where we were supposed to wait. The kids could barely contain their excitement and energy from the long drive and once we were admitted through, they ran up to the first enclosure they saw that held a magnificent rhino.

He was pacing around and rubbing its impressive ivory horn against the bars.

“He wants to come out,” said Ruby. The rhino was close enough for her to touch, but she knew enough not to stick her hands through the bars to pet him, which I know was hard for her, seeing as how she loved animals. “But his horn is sharp so it’s not a good idea. He might charge at us and ram us through.”

“Can we see the Zebras next?” asked Charlie.

“If we can find them,” Mister Collins answered.

“Jessie, are Zebras white with black stripes or black with white stripes?” Ruby wanted to know as she took my hand and pulled me along.

“That’s a question that’s baffled me for years, love,” I answered, following her lead and leaping over the puddles. “One second you think they’re black with white stripes and the second you’re fully convinced that they’re white with black stripes.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” Mister Collins shook his head, smiling.

Over the next minutes, I would see that despite the questioning looks people gave us, the comments that would be whispered under their breaths, and some of the most outrageous remarks I’d ever heard in my entire life, something that my aunt and uncle would, and I am not exaggerating in the least, wash my mouth out with soap for saying, he would simply carry on with his day.

Maybe it was easier that way. To push it all back rather than pretend it never happened rather than waste time and energy by acknowledging it, though I, as well as the children, could tell it bothered him, that every insult was like a stab to the heart or a slap to the face.

“Why do people say mean things?” asked Ruby, avoiding stepping into a puddle and then glancing up at him, only to be met with a sad, knowing look.

Usually, he was the man with all the answers. He’d been to a lot of interesting places over the years because of his job, and he told us all sorts of interesting stories, but when it came to dealing with people’s rudeness, and when Ruby asked him why it happened, he was silent. He proceeded to walk with her hand in his, trying really hard to push his anger and sadness and grief as far back as he could in order to answer her.

I didn’t have an answer myself. It hurt to see this kind and wonderful man, be subjected to such ignorance and prejudice, when all he wanted was to be treated as an equal, he wanted himself and his family to have a good life, a life free of torment.

“Our Uncle Ben says the same thing happens when he and our auntie Ada are out on the town,” said Charlie, suddenly, as though he’d just recalled something. “He says he hears people tell him to go back to where he came from, to leave their town alone and he hears them call him horrible names.”

Even the children, who were much younger than these grown-ups, knew better, and that was saying a lot.

“And it’s not just him,” he continued, “she says people say rude things to her, too, and to Uncle Arthur and Auntie Esme, and to our dad, but Auntie Polly says people are going to do whatever it takes to tear you down, but the most powerful thing you can do is to not say anything at all.”

I smiled down at him and nodded firmly, remembering how Thomas said that because he and his family were Romani, even though they had worked very hard and fight as hard as they could, enduring struggle after struggle, to be where they were now, they would never be seen as equal among those deemed superior by society’s standards.

“She’s absolutely right,” Mister Collins said, “My mother always said that the best thing you can do is to put one foot in front of the other—”

“Like this?” Ruby took a gigantic step forward with her boot.

“And this?” asked Charlie, doing the same thing.

“Exactly! Put one foot in front of the other, keep walking, and brush it off your shoulder —” he brushed away an imaginary crumb. “Don’t give those mean words the power to hurt you.”

Ruby smiled. “I’m going to tell my daddy the same thing.”

“You should,” he said, “and tell your uncles and aunties as well.”

“We will,” she beamed and that was pretty much it. We ignored the stares, the comments, the name-calling. We wouldn’t let it spoil our day.

Soon enough, we approached the enclosure and one of the zebras lifted its head from the food bowl to look over at us, its ears twitching in the light breeze. “What I want to know is how many stripes they have.”

“It says eighty here,” Charlie said, pointing to the sign. “Eighty stripes.

“Would you look at that! You’re right.” Mr. Collins remarked.

“Eighty is a big number,” Ruby held onto the fence and stood up on the rail.

“It is, isn’t it? Oh, don’t climb on that, love.” He stood behind her and helped her down and stroked the top of her head as she planted her feet firmly on the ground. “We just don’t want you to get hurt, eh? Last time we checked you’re not a little monkey.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, and she turned to me with a laugh.

“Jessie, what’s that in your hand?” she asked.

“It’s a film camera.” I held it in front of her and she looked inside the lens.

“Can I try?”

“Sure, but you have to hold on tightly. We don’t want it to fall and break.”

She took it in her hands and then pointed it towards Charlie. “Brother! Look!”

He turned away from the zebra to give her a wave and then started calling out to him. “Come on, Zebra. Ruby wants you to be in her film. Won’t you come over?”

The animal raised its head from the food bucket, watched us for a moment or two and decided that his food was much more important than being in a movie.

“Maybe he’ll come over later,” said Mister Collins, “He’s enjoying his lunch.”

“Here, if you press this button, you can make the lens go closer to him.”

“Like this?” She pushed the button that I showed her. “Hello, Zebra!”

“What happens after all the film’s run out?” asked Charlie.

“Well, after the film’s run out, we take it somewhere to be made into a movie.”

“Really? Like the one Mummy took us to see?” Ruby wondered.

“Exactly, and you know what? Your Daddy will be able to see it, too.”

“I wanna try, too,” said Charlie.

“The giraffes are next. You can have a turn then, alright?” I said. He nodded and then once we were done watching the zebras, Ruby carefully handed the camera over to Charlie. Because he was older and his hands were more steady, perhaps the footage wouldn’t be quite as wobbly, although perhaps the camera was a bit heavy for her as well. “Goodness! Look how tall they are!”

“He’s taller than you, Mister Collins!” Ruby exclaimed.

“Right you are, love,” he laughed softly. “He’s taller than ten of me.”

“Would you like to feed them?” The zookeeper was coming around with a bowl of lettuce leaves, which I heard were the perfect snack for them. Both of the kids’ faces were glowing and when she gave a leaf to Ruby, I lifted her up so she could hold out the leaf and as one of the giraffes bent their heads over the fence and took it with its long, blue tongue, she shrieked with laughter.

“Want me to take that?” Mister Collins asked Charlie once he was given a leaf and he eagerly took over the camera and pointed it at Ruby and I. I turned around and smiled, giving the camera a quick wave as Ruby was given another leaf.

“Jessie! Look!” Charlie gasped and I looked over just in time to see the giraffe take the leaf from Charlie. “His tongue is slimy!”

“Just like yours,” Ruby giggled.

“And yours,” he returned with a laugh.

“Alright, let’s clean up.” I said, wiping their hands with a napkin.

After the giraffes were the monkeys. Mister Collins still had the camera, but he was having too much fun with it, almost as though he were a child himself again. I wondered if Charlie was upset that it was no longer his turn, or that his turn was shorter than Ruby’s, but he was too busy looking at the monkeys and trying to get them to come over to us to notice.

“Oh, look at that, there’s you and Ruby!” I teased and Charlie playfully stuck out his tongue. Instead of chastising him for such rude behaviour, I did the same thing, and so did Ruby.

“Such appalling manners,” Mister Collins laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him and he almost trapped it between his fingers. “Ah, don’t let Mister Shelby see you acting like that, Miss.”

“Mister Shelby doesn’t scare me, Mister Collins,” I tilted my chin high in defiance, “and besides, what’s the worst he could possibly do. I’m his children’s governess.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t punish you.” I saw a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips and I playfully nudged him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“The look on your face said it all. But like I said, I’m not scared.”

“Good.” He nodded, turning back to the monkeys.

“Good,” I agreed, doing the same, unable to stop myself from smiling. It was nice seeing the playful side of this man and I got the feeling this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

After the monkeys, we saw a brown bear, a polar bear, penguins, flamingos, and there was even a tortoise. Each of us took turns with the film camera, capturing all the best moments of our trip so that we could show Thomas when he came back from his business trip. If he did come back. Some part of me imagined him laying on the cold, wet pavement, covered in his own blood and his blue eyes once filled with light and warmth, staring lifelessly into the pale sky.

“Are you alright?” Mister Collins asked as we walked back to the car. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Jessie.”

Surprised to hear him address me by my first name, I turned my head and looked at him. He was standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. The kids got into the car. It was mid afternoon and we thought we should go home a little earlier since it looked like it was going to rain again.

“Mister Shelby can handle himself perfectly fine,” he said softly. “He’s been in plenty of scrapes and always makes it out on top, so you need not worry.”

“I know,” I nodded. “I just can’t help worrying about him sometimes.”

“That’s because you care very deeply for him.”

“I do hold him in high regard,” I admitted, keeping my response brief.

“Regard? I think it’s a bit more than that,” he muttered.

“You take that back!” I snapped, which made him grin smugly.

“Admit it. You love him,” he teased, circling me and making faces. I could see the children watching us through the window and it was making them laugh. Of course, I did find it heartwarming, but I was too stubborn to let on.

“You’re acting like a child.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Says the woman pouting with her arms crossed,” he countered.

“Just get in the car,” I said with a big smile. I got into the car with the children and Mister Collins drove us home. It was completely silent in the backseat within the first half of the journey. I turned around to see that both Ruby and Charlie were sound asleep with their heads resting against the windows. I smiled fondly at them and then turned back around to face the front window.

“They’re all tired out,” Mister Collins whispered as he followed my gaze and then turned back to the road ahead of him. “They seem to think very highly of you, almost as if they’ve known you their whole lives.”

“And I’m fond of them.” I looked over my shoulder again. “They’re such good kids. Charlie is a sweet and sensitive young man who cares very much for his family and Ruby’s laughter is so contagious that when you hear it, you can’t help but laugh with her. I know governesses aren’t supposed to have favourites, but they are definitely mine.”

“And how did Mrs. Shelby — or Miss Stark, rather, take you?”

“We haven’t known each other long enough to know. I was worried she might not take kindly to the fact that I am the new governess, because apparently, I’m not the first he’s been with, but when we went to the pictures together, we seemed to get along fine, there didn’t appear to be any ill will. We actually had quite a lively conversation on the way back home.”

“There you go then, already one of the family.”

“I am quite nervous to meet the rest. I’m worried they might not like me.”

“Nonsense! Once they get to know you, they’ll adore you.”

“I hope so.”

“Especially because you’ll soon be married to him.”

“You’re exhausting!” I roll my eyes and look out the window and he grins as a calm silence falls over us and we drive the rest of the way back home.

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x oc

[saibug1022]

Revelations

Word Count: 1332

Castor Athantis (ILW MC) x Abel Flint

A/N: I've had this written for a bit and forgot to actually post it on here. Wanted to hop on the It Lives Within angst train that was the Chapter 16 ending (thanks @itlivesproject). As such MASSIVE spoilers for Chapter 16 under the cut.

Castor had never heard the cabin this silent. In the three weeks they'd been living there, there always seemed to be some sort of noise. Connor out back in the shed, Noah in the kitchen, someone in the living room watching TV or reading, everyone laughing at the table, Val's ghost humming outside, Amalia breathing next to them. 

But now it was like the woods itself was holding its breath. Castor stood at the front of the living room, arms folded around themself and with a bruising grip on their upper arms. Their friends sat and stood throughout the room facing Cas and every single one of them was wearing a blank look of shock. Castor had no idea how any of them were feeling because no one would meet their eyes. 

"How can you be sure?" Connor asked, his voice quiet but in the silence, it cracked like a whip. 

"I just am," Castor muttered. "I doubted it at first too, I mean Fake Annie was the one to confirm it and I don't trust her at all. But after what Val said when he was freaking out I figured it out on my own. And once I did it all just…clicked. I just knew it was right, I could feel it."

"So you're not…" Amalia's voice shook and she cleared her throat but it still broke when she spoke again. "You're not Castor?"

"I am but I'm not," Castor sighed. "I am Castor, I have all their memories, I think like them, I feel like them, I look like them obviously. But in the sense of like, having their soul, no. No, I'm not."

"Oh God," Amalia buried her face in her hands and Castor took half a step toward her to comfort her before thinking better of it. "What happened to them then? Are you possessing them?!"

Cas hesitated. They all had the right to know, Amalia better than anyone. But how could they just admit that they'd unknowingly stolen someone's life after they died, leaving no one to grieve them because no one even knew they were gone? How did they justify that?

"Answer the question," Jocelyn snapped and Castor flinched. They dropped their arms but their hands were clenched into fists so tightly they wouldn't be surprised if their nails managed to break the skin. When they answered, they stared firmly at the floor. 

"Castor Athantis is dead," They finally confessed. "I didn't know until now. But they died with the rest of their family."

Amalia finally let out a sob and Castor squeezed their eyes shut against tears of their own. She probably hated them now. And who could blame her? They were walking around puppeteering her best friend's corpse. They'd stolen the life the real or first Castor should have been living! They stole Castor’s best friend, their future, their potential for love, their hopes, their dreams, their grief, their memories. 

But even if they weren't Cas they were. They stole those things but it wasn't on purpose! They didn't even know! And now their best friend who may not even really be their friend was sobbing and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it because it was their fault in the fucking first place!

Or was it?

They didn't know! They didn't fucking know who they were anymore! All of this was messy and fucked up and confusing and they just wanted to scream and cry and throw things because none of this was FAIR! They finally start rebuilding a life where they're happy after five years only to learn it was never theirs to rebuild.

They looked up at the sound of footsteps, expecting to see Amalia leaving or approaching or something but instead, the person silently leaving the cabin was…Abel? Castor glanced at Amalia only for her to lean away from them and Castor made a strangled noise from trying to swallow a sob.

"I'm sorry, Amalia," Cas whispered before they turned and left the cabin, with only the hope that they'd be allowed to come back. 

When they got outside they saw Abel standing in the middle of the yard, running his hands through his hair. His shoulders were a tense line, every muscle tight. Castor couldn't see his face but they weren't sure they wanted to. 

Amalia's rejection made it feel like their life was falling apart. Not in an "Oh I might not get into the college I wanted" way, but in the same way they felt, no, the way they remembered the real Castor feeling while their family was being ripped apart. Their entire world shattered around them, leaving only Castor's cyan eye in broken glass. When they had nothing, less than nothing, they still had Amalia. They always had Amalia. And now…they didn't. She was just gone. She'd rejected them.

They couldn't handle Abel rejecting them too. 

"Abel?" Cas prompted quietly and Abel stiffened even further. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Abel admitted. "I don't even know if I can tell you."

"Of course, you can," Castor promised and Abel finally turned to look at them. "I'm still your Cas. You've only known me as me. Everything I've ever told you was real. Everything I feel is real. I-I'm still a person. A person created by the Power, but a person."

"But you aren't just some person the Power gave life to or brought back," Abel argued. "You are the Power. You are literally the Power incarnate. How am I supposed to just suddenly accept that? The Power has been destroying my family's lives for generations. It killed my grandmother, my parents, it almost killed me!"

"Abel-" Castor tried but Abel interrupted them.

"How am I supposed to see anything else when I look at you?"

It was like Castor’s heart stopped beating.

"I'd never hurt you," Castor swore. "Th-that wasn't me, Abel, I swear. The Power isn't sentient it didn't want to hurt your family. It isn't malicious. I-I don't know why exactly it did the things it did but it's a neutral force. And even then I'm just a piece of the Power, not the Power itself. I don't want to hurt anybody. I don't want it to hurt anybody. I'd never hurt you, Abel, I swear on the Power itself. You have to believe me, please-"

In some sort of desperation, Castor reached for Abel's hands as they had a million times before. It was a safe thing for both of them, something reassuring and warm and loving. It was something so personal to their relationship that was just instinct for Castor to reach for his hands, both to reassure him and to reassure themself. But Abel's hands moved and he took a step back, stopping Castor in their tracks. No. No, please. 

"Abel?" Castor breathed and Abel didn't meet their eyes.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Abel muttered and Castor felt the tears finally spill over.

"Oh," Castor tried to take a breath as their hands fell, returning to fists at their sides.

"I'm sorry, I just can't right now," Abel apologized again and Castor shook their head.

"I understand," They replied. "I think maybe…maybe I should go." 

After all, they had nowhere to be. They couldn't be at the cabin with Amalia. They couldn't go to Abel's apartment and they doubted they could go to Lincoln or Jocelyn's. They didn't have the money for a motel and Westchester Community College didn't have dorms.

So for now, they turned and just started walking in a random direction, following their instincts until they realized they were heading right for the heart of the woods. But maybe that was where they should be. The source of the Power. They didn't belong here, not really. They never did. So, until they were needed, they'd just…go.

"Where are you going to go?" Abel called to them as they reached the tree line. Castor stopped.

"I have no idea," The Anchor answered.

So, with nothing left to say, they returned to the woods.

#it lives within #it lives #ilw #itlives within fic #ilw fic #ilw spoilers #it lives within spoilers #ilw mc #it lives within mc #abel flint #abel flint x mc

[mellaithwen]

Tagged by @fcntasmas @nymika-arts @like-the-rest-of-la @princessfbi and @fleurdebeton (adjsksks getting tagged in things is like my love language ❤️)

🎶✨️When you get this you have to put 5 songs you actually listen to, publish, then send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) ✨️🎶

I decided to look at my on repeat and repeat rewind playlists on spotify (just cause my liked playlist is loooong)

1. Honest by Kyndal Inskeep

I tell you that I'm whole, but I'm still healing. I tell you that I'm happy, but I'm grieving. Thought I was a fighter; I'm still in the fire. ‘cause if I'm being honest, I'm not being honest. I'll give you roses just hoping you don't see the weeds in my garden.

I’m literally looking at those lyrics and thinking well. That’s pretty self-explanatory? So I might skip the overshare. But uh. Yeah, easily playing that song daily.

2. Lost by Dermot Kennedy

I was lost 'til I found you. Now these songs will hold and hide your name

I realise nOONE will be surprised to see Dermot in this list (Ciara, I’m looking at you) but I never tire of him, or this song. When I’m writing fic, if a song plays that gels with the content/le vibe, I end up putting that song song on repeat until the fic’s finished, aaaaand at the time I was writing a 10k post-shooting 911 fic so you can imagine how long that took me.

3. Vienna by Billy Joel

slow down you’re doing fine, you can’t be everything you wanna be before your time…

my mams favourite song, and one of mine too. when I’d have anxiety attacks before appts I’d always put this on :’)

4. Arcade by Duncan Laurence

I'm afraid of all I am, my mind feels like a foreign land. Silence ringing inside my head. Please carry me, carry me, carry me home.

This is another “wrote a bunch of 911 fic to it and now I can’t stop listening” song, because the Buck vibes are. Off the charts.

5. Feather on the Clyde by Passenger

Well there's a river that runs through Glasgow, and makes her but it breaks her and takes her into the parks. And her current just like my blood flows, down from the hills, round aching bones to my restless heart.

Beautiful lyrics and lovely tune aside, I was listening to this a lot while I was reading/writing Star Trek AOS fic, and maaaan, I cannot stress enough the comforting nostalgia I have for LiveJournal circa 2009. The Kirk/McCoy fic was *so good* i still think about it often. Like Vixys’s sealed by a fragile touch series? Broke me. But like. In the best most poignantly painful way. If you’ve read it then. You know.

5+1. shhh there are no rules here. Mess by Noah Kahan.

I'll feed the dogs and I'll put all my pieces back together where they belong, and I'll say: "I'm a mess, I'm a mess, oh God, I'm a mess"

Just. yeah. Again. It me.

& I’ll tag @homerforsure @kananjarus @thekristen999 @littlespoonevan @lovebuck @shortsighted-owl @henswilsons @hattalove @hopeintheashes and @renecdote <33

#if music be the food of love play on

[noahsonicdiaz]

Some basic verses. Some will be expanded upon later. These are just general Ideas.

Noah Diaz Verses

Normal: Takes place after the events of rotb. In a relationship with Autobot Mirage. Would gladly fight along side them all again. Loves Mirage even if he doesn’t say it all the time. Gladly comforts him when it is needed. Works for the GiJoe program. Still working to get his life and his family’s lives back to normal. Well as normal as they can be.

Half human: Noah volunteered to go in for experimentation in exchange for the ability to pay for his brother’s treatments. He ended up at a sector seven base where they wanted to experiment on what would happen if they used cybertronian tech/armor on a human. Noah doesn’t remember much about what happened the few weeks he was there. He remembers a lot of pain at times, and someone talking to him almost reassuring him he would be alright. When all was done Noah tried to go on as normal,but things weren’t that simple. Although human on the outside and mentally. Some organs had been replaced by new cybertronian parts, and as the days went on the parts that were cybertronian continued to spread slowly taking over his body. This verse is an AU.

V: What Am I?

Cybertronian in hiding: Noah Diaz wasn’t always Noah Diaz. He was found by his human mother just after arriving on earth. The young woman at the time was grieving over the lost of her child. At the time Noah had taken on the form of a young child that resembled her lost son. Feeling sorry for the boy his mother without knowing the truth took him in and adopted him. Not long after this his human mother ended up having a child who Noah became protective of. Choosing to do what he could do to protect his new home and family he joined the army. While he was distracted with worry over his human brother he was discharged after his tour where he returned home to search for a job to help take care of his human family. AU verse that mostly follows Rotb only Noah is a cybertronian hiding as a human to avoid the war he still ended up dragged into. He regrets nothing,but still hasn’t revealed his true self.

V: In plain sight

#v: what am i? #v: in plain sight #verses #blame mirage/evac mun for this #although i blame them with the love of our long friendship #sonic out

[cantfindwhoasked]

Nobody asked for my review of these romantic movies *spoilers... probably*

Okay, so yesterday, I had a lot of time to do anything so I ended up watching 3 romantic movies back to back. Because I don't know if I would have enough to say about each of them on their own, I figured I could rank them by enjoyment factor and say a little about each of them. The movies in question, in the order I wacthed them, are Culpa Mia, Love Again, and What's Love Got to Do With It.

Starting off with my least favorite of the movies: Love Again. It was... I guess what I would expect of a cheesy movie... but creepier. I mean the whole premise is that this grieving woman is sending messages to the number of her boyfriend that had dies 2 years prior and a man gets the messages because that is his new work phone number. Even before I watched the movie, I was very skeptical about the premise, but I figured I would give it a shot, because I am in a romancy mood and I have been craving a good romance movie. I, also, love Priyanka and Sam and I was looking forward to seeing them in something I hadn't really seen out of the two. Their characters were... fine. They were awkward and kind of sweet. I did like Mira, even after the weird way she reacted to the death of her boyfriend in the beginning (which was fine and one way to go, but I would have liked to see more of the raw emotion that would come if that did happen in real life, though people do cope with things differently.) I ended up liking her character, though. Rob was.... creepy. I mean someone has to say it. He goes to the opera EVERY NIGHT to try and find this girl because she quoted it. That's kind of stalkerish tbh. And like this girl was grieving and sending her innermost thoughts to this number that she assumed nobody was receiving and he fell in love with her grief and became a bit obsessive about her. And being excited to hear from her is fine and everything, but he kind of used her messages to find her and make her fall for him and that just seems creepy to me, not romantic. In true romance movie form, she forgives him and they end up together, but I feel like that would be completely devastating to find that out and it might just be me, but I don't think I would forgive him or at the very least trust him if that happened, because that's like another level of effed up to me. The acting wasn't bad, I did like the gay friend and Celine Dion wasn't too bad. Nick Jonas also did a good job at being the dickhead. It was just more of what I would assume from a cheesy Hallmark movie, but a little creepier.

Now, the next movie, I really did like despite the premise. And that is Culpa Mia. There are a few reasons that this movie is number two in this list and not number one. The first and BLARING alarm of a red flag that this movie is which really 100% secured its position in this ranking is the fact that they are step siblings. While some may be able to argue that they aren't technically related, they are now siblings and that is incest which is wrong... and creepy. Seems like creepy is a bit of a theme so far. The second thing that really secured its spot for me is the tropeyness of the story. That, however, in my books is not always a bad thing. I love a good trope every once in a while, so I wouldn't completely knock it. This movie follows in the footsteps of a lot of fanfic-esque movies that have been happening lately, such as After, Beautiful Disaster, Perfect Addiction, etc. Two people falling hopelessly in love with each other and not being able to control themselves. I ain't gonna lie, this was done pretty well. I think they had good actors playing Nick and Noah and the two of them really did have some chemistry. I feel like a lot of people that found out about the two of them were a little too chill with the fact that they were siblings hooking up with each other. It was DEFINITELY straight out of a fanfiction, though, with the male lead being the knight for this girl with a tragic back story and him having to help save her from her father in the end. But, overall, if you ignore the fact that they are siblings, they really did build up this couple pretty well in the fighting siblings to lovers trope. Was there a bit too much sex and seduction, yes, but it was bad. Just very predictable. Also, kids, say no to incest.

The last movie and the movie I enjoyed the most by far was What's Love Got to Do With It. But it may not exactly be for the reasons that people are assuming. I thought it was an interesting concept. I love getting a look into other people's cultures through tv and movies and I love how they did this movie. Going through the motions of a modern-day arranged marriage as seen from an the perspective of an outsider who is making a documentary on the subject was definitely something to be intrigued about. I will admit, when I first saw the trailer, I had assumed that I would like it for the romance aspect of it, but it became much more about the culture than that for me. In fact, I think if they really wanted it to be a purely romantic movie, they would have built up the romance a little more, because, while we did get slight hints into the main two characters liking each other, it was pretty subtle until the very end. However, I don't think that this is the main takeaway of the story. In fact, the most interesting part of the movie was a small portion of the movie in what had happened to the sister. At first, I thought that maybe she had died, but it was an eye-opening thing to see that her choices she made for her happiness basically got her shunned in her culture. I am the most basic person ever. I am a semi-religious catholic white girl from America. I loved this look into a culture that I know so little about and how their lives can seem so different, but they can still deal with similar struggles. I, also, very much assumed that the wife (whose name escapes me) was definitely in love with someone else and that her crying on their wedding day was her grieving that love. I was so happy that they did what they wanted and not what they were expected to do and I was even more happy that the sister came back and everyone welcomed her back, because as much as it wasn't what they may have wanted for her, they all still missed her. And it probably still won't be easy for her to transition back into the family, but at least they are on the right path. It was a beautiful story, not even really for the romance of it, but for the insight into the culture and the family.

So, those were my Sunday Movies and my thoughts on all of them. I will try and do a show in the next couple of days. I've recently rewatched some things and want to rewatch some things, so I will get to that when I do :) Toodle-oo!!

#Movie reviews #nobody asked for my opinion #but here it is #Love Again #Culpa Mia #What's Love Got To Do With It

[alistairlowes]

post where i liveread a book i already read not even two months ago instead of posting updates on goodreads like any sane person would part 1

"The Lowe family had always been the undisputed villains of their town’s ancient, bloodstained story, and no one understood that better than the Lowe brothers."

girl shut the fuck up it hits differently now 😭

why is hendry lowe just noah czerny of these books

*

"Hendry looked like he was fantasizing about meeting a cute girl, judging from how he kept fiddling with his curls and smoothing the wrinkles in his sleeves.

Alistair was thinking about death. More specifically, about causing it."

he is just so dramatic for no fucking reason

*

“I hate that fucking book,” Alistair growled.

me about this but like affectionate

*

"But most of all, he hated to imagine his brother grieving him. They had never been without each other."

I'M LITERALLY SICK THIS IS SICK FORSHADOWING INSANEEE

*

my fav part about these books is how there are 7 champion families but book very clearly says you should give a fuck only about 4

*

"Nobody loved Gavin enough to protect him from the impending slaughter."

i know someone who will tho but first he will try to kill you for like 700 pages

*

"But Hendry never liked to be woken before noon."

he is just like me

*

"Alistair Lowe was extremely good-looking. Not that it mattered.

“I’m going to kill you,” Gavin said aloud, jabbing a finger into the center of the photo."

*

"Want implied a choice he’d never been given."

You deserve better Gav bby

*

oh it's the chapter where alistair is looking for hendry... ahah..hh..h

"Hendry had always been the favorite: more charming, more handsome, more loved."

you have no idea actually ☠️

"Hendry would understand what this conversation meant to Alistair. Just his presence, just a smile from him would be enough to fix this very wrong moment."

christ alive

“Where is my brother?”

worst thing i ever read -1000/10 do not recommend

*

“No one wants the Lowes to win,” said Elionor bluntly, responding anyway. “And the Grieve champion doesn’t have a chance. If we work together, we can eliminate them easily.”

the way this lead to certain events lmao

*

isobel i get you even if no one else does <3

*

"Gavin realized Alistair was swaying back and forth, ever so slightly. He wondered what possible reason the favorite to win this tournament had for getting dead drunk right before it started."

*

"This boy had everything, and he had nothing."

LEAVE HIM ALONEE HE IS SAADDD

*

“For that,” he said, each word enunciated with a careful sort of rage, “I will kill you slowly.”

crazy how that is crazy how that will be

*

"Alistair sat at his family’s banquet table, surrounded by those who had murdered his brother."

i hate theeeeem

"Without Hendry, Alistair was lost."

*

“It’s funny.” Alistair glared down at his mother. “For years you told me stories about monsters. But all along the monster was you.”

yes

*

"She felt an unexpected pang of sadness for him."

#me

*

briony is so insane for what she did 😭

*

"Gavin had glared at Alistair Lowe and his brother from the back of the pub and wondered what it would be like to have someone in his life like that. Someone who knew him. Someone who saw him.

Someone who would celebrate when, not if, he came home."

I AM SO SAAAAAAD

fuck

*

"Everything was terrible, and he was tired."

god he gets me sm

that's enough for part 1

#this is full of spoilers bdw #turning tumblr into kafka diaries except it's just me crying over lowe brothers #val reads #all of us villains #this is mostly for me ignore it <3 #aouv

[magdaclaire]

call me whenever you’d like

a continuation of this, as ellenmissouri is still eating my frontal lobe

There's a lot of reasons to hate the hunter community, all said. So many lives lost that Ellen couldn't count them all if she tried, names she doesn't even remember anymore that have passed through the doors of The Roadhouse since her daddy opened it all that time ago. It's dangerous work, and a callous memory to be lost to, a cause with no great end. It can wear a person right through.

Any reason to hate it, at least the Campbells still let her know when Mary passes away.

The idea of not knowing is something that could have kept her up at night for years, waiting for Mary's one more phone call, waiting to know if she was okay, if she was even alive (she isn't, she isn't, Mary's dead, and Ellen can barely feel her hands), she's glad Mary's brother took care of things. Body already burnt like any hunter, at least Mary got a gravestone. God above, Mary's boys. What'll happen to Mary's boys? Sure enough, Mary's husband- John, Noah, something biblical- would take care of them, raise them how Mary would've, but no one could do anything quite like Mary could.

Even dead, Ellen can't let her be anything less than perfect in her head. A girl made of fireflies. A mother in flames.

Ellen's chest hurts, feels fit to burst, but there's more to be done than just grieve. There always is. She grabs the phone off the hook and twists her fingers in the chord, dialing a number so familiar she doesn't even look at where it's carved into the wall above the phone anymore. Well, that's almost true. Something nervous in her always checks the last two digits, doesn't trust her head more than her eyes however that may be, but she punches it in accurate and accepts the long distance cost.

"Hello Ellen Joleen," Missouri says as soon as she picks up the phone. Ellen smiles for the first time all day. Missouri never checks before she leaps right in.

"Hey Miz," she says, the familiarity smoothing in a little levity despite it all. Despite the occasion. She climbs onto the counter beside the phone jack and leans her head back against the cabinet.

"Hey sweetheart. How you holding up?"

"Not that well, as it happens. I've... got something to tell you," she says, her lips pressed together like an envelope closing up her sentence, the tension across her shoulders enough to make her clench her teeth.

"I- I know, Ellen," Missouri says, and Ellen's eyebrows crease. Oh no, not...

"Oh, Miz." There are times when she hates the lot that Missouri was served in life, even as much as Missouri has told her that she wouldn't rather it go to somebody else. She closes her eyes, bites her lip. Readies herself. She isn't ready.

"She was wearing a nightgown, El- our Mary! A nightgown! And she was trying to protect her baby, El, she didn't have any weapons on her or anything, Mary," Missouri rambles, her voice slowing out to accommodate the pace of her tears. Mary Campbell, known to have at least two guns and two knives besides, holy water coming off of her by the gallon, their Mary, died empty handed. Died protecting her child without anything to protect him with. A demon death nearly a decade after she had gotten out. Ellen catches her temple on the door handle of the cabinet, but strange enough, it doesn't feel like it matters much. And Missouri had to see that.

"Oh honey." Ellen means to say more, but Missouri. But Missouri.

"And there was no one to tell! Couldn't warn her civilian husband, couldn't call you, have you stuck in the same vicious waiting period I always am, just telling people that horrible things are going to happen and never being able to stop what I see. I saw her, Ellen. On that ceiling. On fire. Bleeding." Missouri's voice is thin, reedy, makes Ellen want to hold her fingers between her own, feel Missouri's heartbeat in her palms. Make sure she felt her there too. 

"And you were alone with it. And I never want you to be again, alright? Missouri Rose, you call me if you see something you don't need to bear alone. You shouldn't have had to hold that by yourself, now. I'm here. Lean on me, darlin'," she requests, her face unconsciously tilted up, her socked feet knocking slightly against the wooden base of the counter. They don't have Mary any longer, so much as they even had Mary in the last few years at all. What she knows is that she's going to do whatever she can to make things easier for Missouri. Whatever Missouri will let her.

"And what? Call you every time I see something? Bother you every day with my most innocuous visions of what might happen, even if it's not important? I could waste a lot of your time like that," Missouri says, the purse of her mouth clear as day through the sound of her voice, and Ellen loves knowing someone so well. A few more phone calls from Missouri Moseley certainly wouldn't run amiss around here. 

"If that's what it takes? Missouri, you can call me whenever you'd like. Day, night, in the small gray hours of the morning, doesn't matter much to me. I'm never gonna turn you away, okay? I'll always believe you. You know that, right?" she asks, making her voice a little harsher, rougher, her meanness coming out a little through her nose. It always gets her when they do this. Try to take everything on by themselves. Missouri and Mary used to do it both. Just because she doesn't get active in the hunting scene much anymore since her knee got blown out doesn't mean she can't do the work.

"I- Of course, El. Of course I know that. Believing me doesn't always mean you wanna hear every single vision, though, does it?" There's a sarcastic lilt to her voice, as if Ellen is doing something terribly naive again. She doesn't care. What's naivety in a world like this?

"Maybe I just think you deserve to be heard. To talk about it. I can help, Miz. Let me help," she requests, throwing it out as her last ditch effort into coaxing Missouri into allowing Ellen to help to carry some of the load. Missouri gives her a disapproving tut, only a little bit tinged by her sadness.

"Now, you're not playing fair, Ellen Joleen," she says, sniffling just a bit. What Ellen wouldn't give to hold her. To see her. They've only met in person twice, but Ellen doesn't think there's anything she wouldn't do for this girl. It's the least she deserves.

"Life hasn't been fair to you, Miz. I'm setting out on evening scores," Ellen says, her voice barely more than a whisper, the receiver pressed so hard against her jaw that it'll hurt if she keeps leaving it like this. Her good leg is pulled up on the counter with her, her bum knee left extended so it can get a little rest. There's hair coming out of her ponytail. She's not paying any mind to any of it.

"Eventually, I will see something that hurts you again," Missouri reminds her, her voice harder again. She's building her resolve to argue her way out of this again. Ellen frowns.

"And I won't blame you then, either, sweetheart, what are you worried about? What are you afraid of?"

"All of it, Ellen! I'm afraid of seeing more people die and I'm afraid of telling you about it. I'm afraid that I'll see so much death that one day it will suck every modicum of life out of me, and I'm afraid that one day, you'll notice that it's doing that too. I'm afraid that I will have this, I will have you, and then I won't, El. What if this is what makes you tired of the future? Tired of-"

"Tired of you?" Ellen asks, not wanting to let Missouri work herself to any more of a fit than she was already.

"Tired of me," Missouri confirms, steady and hollow. Scared, but sure.

"And what if I don't, Miz?"

"What if you don't?"

"What if I never get tired of you? What if I want you to share everything that fucks you up? What if I don't want you to be alone? What if I want to be the one that's with you? What if I never want us to stop calling each other and talking? What if I wanna know it all?"

"Then one day, I'll lose you too. You'll die, Ellen. And I'll see it. And I won't be able to stop it."

"So you never want to have me at all? Five, ten, twenty, hell, maybe thirty years of this, of us, we could have that, and you're willing to miss out because you don't wanna lose me? Miz, I'll die either way, baby. You'll die either way. You decide when the grief hits. We've already lost Mary," she says, and the wound is somewhere deep within her that might never heal, but different, maybe, then it wouldn't have been if they had been close in the years before Mary's death. Mary had called her every now and again, of course, but not nearly so often as Missouri has in the last years. There's a metallic sound on the other side of the line.

"You're not pulling any punches today, my dear," Missouri says, and Ellen can hear her pull on a cigarette. Missouri smokes inside often enough Ellen could recognize the sound anywhere. She hits her head back against the cabinet again.

"I'm trying to convince you to let me help take care of you. In what world would this be the battle I chose to begin pulling my punches during, babe?" she asks, wishing a little bit that she had a cigarette of her own, but she's trying not to smoke inside anymore. At least not in the kitchen. Makes the food taste weird.

"I am ill equipped for logic right now, Ellen, dear. Perhaps try again next time." Ellen raises a brow.

"So you will be calling next time then?" she drills in, unable to let it go when she knows that her friend, her Missouri, is hurting. She can't let her keep thinking it's alright that she does it alone.

"Well, I would hate to disappoint, wouldn't I?" Missouri teases, sounding all buttoned back up and presentable, and sharp edged Missouri Rose Moseley, perfect and pressed and nothing less than impressive. Ellen smiles despite it all.

"And so you would. You gonna be okay, sweetheart?" she asks, just one last time. Never can be too sure. Missouri chuckles.

"I always am, dear. I'll call you soon?" she asks. Ellen nods, even if Missouri can't see it.

"I'll pick up."

#again according to 4thewords less than 45 minutes so. kindest eyes and largest grains of salt please #ellen harvelle #missouri moseley #ellenmissouri #hinted marymissouri #hinted ellenmary #death cw #can you tell i think about seers a lot bc i think about being a seer a lot #the cassandra of it all the friends who believed you first the horrified part of you that has to bear witness to it all #mine

[akajustmerry]

hi merry! What did you think about the finale of the resort (if you've seen it)? I hope you get out of that airport soon 💗

hellooooo! I finally got out of the airport and am safely at my sister's, thank you ❤️

spoilers for the resort finale ahead!

omg I lost my MIND the finale was soooooo good. I'm still marinating my thoughts honestly but the moment when noah asked emma why she didn't get into the pool and she said she didn't want to lose time.......AHHHHHH 🥺

I've always loved time travel media that explores how corruptive the desire to time travel actually is and that the irony is time travel is always a loss of time.

This show was so much about literally grieving lost time and hammering that home by having Sam and Violet be found unchanged from when they disappeared... The time is still lost for everyone! They're found but those 17 years are still gone and they never got to have them.

I'm curious about Baltasar and what that final scene between him and Luna meant. I feel like he isn't done with Parsaje and has bigger plans for what they found.

Honestly, I've never made a secret of the fact my favourite shows tend to be about grief and all the different ways grief affects and drive people and this is just a perfect show about grief and how no amount of time travel can heal loss.

I just loved it so much and I will watch william Jackson harper and Cristin Milioti in ANYTHING they're so talented and their chemistry is beautiful. The way they're both so good at saying the unsaid... Obsessed.

Idk if there's gonna be a season 2 but I feel like this is a more fleshed out version of the ideas Andy Siara explored in Palm Springs and I can't wait to see what he does next!

#the resort #anon

[bills-bible-basics]

GOD'S LONGSUFFERING [PATIENCE] -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List Visit https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see more. "And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years . . . And GOD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And it repented the LORD that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart. And the LORD said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them. But Noah found grace in the eyes of the LORD." Genesis 6:3, 6-8, KJV "For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit: By which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison; Which sometime were disobedient, when once the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water." 1 Peter 3:18-20, KJV What the previous two verse sets reveal to us is that God waited for one hundred and twenty years before He finally sent the Flood. Clearly, that is a prime example of longsuffering and patience. "And the LORD said, Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous; I will go down now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it, which is come unto me; and if not, I will know. And the men turned their faces from thence, and went toward Sodom: but Abraham stood yet before the LORD. And Abraham drew near, and said, Wilt thou also destroy the righteous with the wicked? Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the city: wilt thou also destroy and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that are therein? That be far from thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked: and that the righteous should be as the wicked, that be far from thee: Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right? And the LORD said, If I find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then I will spare all the place for their sakes. And Abraham answered and said, Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes: Peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty righteous: wilt thou destroy all the city for lack of five? And he said, If I find there forty and five, I will not destroy it. And he spake unto him yet again, and said, Peradventure there shall be forty found there. And he said, I will not do it for forty's sake. And he said unto him, Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak: Peradventure there shall thirty be found there. And he said, I will not do it, if I find thirty there. And he said, Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord: Peradventure there shall be twenty found there. And he said, I will not destroy it for twenty's sake. And he said, Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak yet but this once: Peradventure ten shall be found there. And he said, I will not destroy it for ten's sake. And the LORD went his way, as soon as he had left communing with Abraham: and Abraham returned unto his place." Genesis 18:20-33, KJV "And the LORD passed by before him, and proclaimed, The LORD, The LORD God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth," Exodus 34:6, KJV "The LORD is longsuffering, and of great mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression, and by no means clearing the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation." Numbers 14:18, KJV "But thou, O Lord, art a God full of compassion, and gracious, longsuffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth." Psalm 86:15, KJV "It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23, KJV "That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." Matthew 5:45, KJV "And it came to pass, when the time was come that he should be received up, he stedfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem, And sent messengers before his face: and they went, and entered into a village of the Samaritans, to make ready for him. And they did not receive him, because his face was as though he would go to Jerusalem. And when his disciples James and John saw this, they said, Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them, even as Elias did? But he turned, and rebuked them, and said, Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them. And they went to another village." Luke 9:51-56, KJV "Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?" Romans 2:4, KJV "What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction: And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory, Even us, whom he hath called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles?" Romans 9:22-24, KJV "The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance . . . Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, be diligent that ye may be found of him in peace, without spot, and blameless. And account that the longsuffering of our Lord is salvation; even as our beloved brother Paul also according to the wisdom given unto him hath written unto you;" 2 Peter 3:9, 14-15, KJV If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/gods-longsuffering-patience-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=160611&GOD%27S%20LONGSUFFERING%20%5BPATIENCE%5D%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List

#All_Posts #Bible_Verse_Lists #bible #bible_study #bill_kochman #bills_bible_basics #king_james_version #kjv #list #longsuffering #patience #patient #scripture #scriptures #topical #verse #verses

[deliriumxtrigger]

Todays song

Still by Noah Kahan

There’s usually a multitude of songs I choose in my grieving period ….I should say albums

I’m hoping Tortured Poets really helps me fully envelope my grief and fully move on

“It’s like I’m still here with you”

It was a great love , one of my greatest…

Which is wild bc I never associated great love with friendship

But, I gave my heart to you & I don’t regret it

Not for a second , even with the empty space it has left

A space that will never be fully itself again

Although it will be reinvented

I am leaving my naivety with you

My childlike innocence …Although, I’ll always be somewhat a bouncy butterfly

My superfluous mouth

My venting and festerous ways

My blind eyes

So far, these aspects of me are being replaced with:

More conscientiousness

More confidence

A more quiet , gentle personality who observes before she talks

More love and understanding for my partner

What I would believe to be the aspects of a wife and a mother and a successful confident woman

It hurts my heart to think I was holding on so long for a fantasy

The voice in my head I have named Clarissa it’s much easier to shut her up that way

I have realized that the person in your head really isn’t you at least not always and they have to be kept on wrap or else you are pretty much a slave to it

Logic is separating yourself from that voice it not only makes you smarter but it greatly enhances your decision making skills

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Very Real Powerful Force

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” Philippians 4:4NIV

For 21 days I’ve been on a public fast. Fasting always reveals areas needed correcting. Afterwards, prayers are answered. This time has been no different. Yahweh Adonai has been working amazing things into my heart.

One area— truly rejoicing. “Always be joyful. Never stop praying” 1Thessalonians 5:16-17NLT. Face it— where there’s more needs than money— new laws written daily to take away more of our freedoms— corruption in every area, including the churches— enemy armies crossing our borders in-mass to take over our nation— children being used trafficked to sick perverts— life tends to become too heavy to bear. Rest assured! We’re not the first people to see these evils and feel overwhelmed.

Problem is: we’re looking in the wrong direction. Jesus said, “Now when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near”” Luke 21:28NKJV. The Lord Yahweh is our Savior. Government leaders and laws aren’t. Jehovah has not, nor will He change. Look to Him, He’s the same “yesterday, today, and forever,” Hebrews 13:8.

LORD God sent me to Genesis to read. Corruption abounded, so much so that God regretted making humanity. He was ready to destroy everyone. But— “Noah, however, found favor in the eyes of the LORD” Genesis 6:8BSB. Ending? Noah and his entire family were spared in the ark during the flood.

Question: Where did all the sin come from between Genesis 6 and 19 when God pulled Lot and family out of Sodom? Noah walked with God, his sons didn’t, even after seeing the flood, his sons didn’t walk with God. As for Lot, angels rescued him, and daughters, Genesis 19, God spared his two girls, knowing their penchant for incest. Noah and Lot trust in God to take care of them. saved their families also— God knows how their hearts would have mourned losing their children. Is it any different for us today?

Nehemiah, and the Israelites had returned from seventy years of captivity in Babylon. The younger ones probably didn’t even fully understand the importance of returning to Israel. When they returned, neighboring lands were trying to kill them, while they built a wall for protection, (maybe like a border wall.) As they finally finished their work enough to read the scriptural laws, they realized how sinful they were. Remorse came, but they were instructed ‘don’t cry —celebrate’— “…Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10ESV. Take the phrase “of the LORD” out of the preceding verse— “for the joy…is your strength.” Joy isn’t a fleeting emotion but a very real powerful force of walking with the Lord, sharing intimacy. This joy force requires us to look at Jesus— (Yeshua Hamashiach in Hebrew), as the Supreme Being, all powerful, undefeatable. Satan and fear cannot stand up against joy and rejoicing. They have to flee, (see James 4:7).

Rejoicing like fasting brings promises. Yahweh has promised me— “‘Do not fear [anything], for I am with you; Do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, be assured I will help you; I will certainly take hold of you with My righteous right hand [a hand of justice, of power, of victory, of salvation]’” Isaiah 41:10AMP. Like Noah and Lot were rescued— While all the evil is surrounding us, we have nothing to fear. Our salvation is near. Will you look up and rejoice? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Yahweh thank You for teaching us the power of joy, and Your mercy for us who believe. Help us to rejoice more, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2024 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

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