#which Jack discusses in Surprised by Joy as one of the works that inspired feelings of joy and 'Northernness' in his boyhood

[queenlucythevaliant]

Northern Lights

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I heard a voice that cried, “Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!” 

.

Who knows what to call the lonely exhilaration of gazing out into a bright Northern sky? Who can name it? 

Jill could.

It was the same feeling that came to her at the teetering edge of a cliff at the end of the world. The same feeling as when she said her goodbyes to Puddleglum and Scrubb before they freed the prince. It was the same feeling that engulfed her now, sitting in the professor’s library with a volume of poetry before her. 

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The wild northern wastes were well named: utterly wild, perfectly desolate, and terribly Northern. 

It was lonely there and often cold, but the sky was an endless whorl of gales and gray clouds. The stones were indigo under the pale winter sunlight, and at sunset they glowed a soft gold, as though lit from within. The gorges and moors lay before her, and Jill loved them for their vastness and their distance. Little grew in that country, but that which did was full of vigor. The grass was short and coarse. Every tree was victorious. 

On a still, deep breathing winter night, Jill lay on her back beneath a covering sky. It seemed beautiful to her, rich and strong and glorious. Her eyes drank in the breadth of it until her tears began to blind her. Yet even then, she still couldn’t look away.

She felt bigger here in the wastes, like the landscape. Stronger, wider. The further she walked, the more she felt herself stretch out. One of these days, maybe, she would catch hold of herself at the edge and tug, and Jill Pole would open up clear as the Northern sky. 

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And through the misty air passed the mournful cry of sunward sailing cranes.

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The thing that surprised Jill most about the battle with the serpent was this: there wasn’t any yelling. Always, it seemed, whenever she read stories about people fighting with swords, the combatants would let loose some guttural yell before their blows fell. They would scream and writhe in pain as they died. They would shout instructions to their fellows, “Look out!” or “Hit him there!” But the whole affair with the serpent passed with very little noise. 

The poison-green coil constricted around the prince; he raised his arms and got clear, struck the serpent hard, and then Scrubb and Puddleglum dispatched the creature with heavy, hacking blows. The monster died writhing, but not screaming. And then it was over. 

The thing that surprised Jill most about the moments before battle was, of course, the noise. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She couldn’t stop listening to her own breathing. Every footstep rang out like a gong, and any words exchanged rang with a kind of finality that made them sound louder than anything. 

“You are of high courage,” Rilian told her when it was over. 

Yet the thing in Jill’s chest just then didn’t feel like courage. It was a deep breath, a plunge, and a release. It was loud and quiet all at once, till she was standing, blinking in the night air as snowballs whizzed round her, and maybe that was something like courage after all. 

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And now, there was a stirring in her chest as she reread the words on the page. Sing no more / O ye bards of the North / Of Vikings and of Jarls! / Of the days of the Eld / preserve the freedom only / nor the deeds of blood! 

She thought of grief. Of freedom. 

The lonely ache in her belly grew stronger. She felt herself uplifted into the huge regions of sky that were just beyond those cliffs, weightless as the breath beneath her buoyed her up, further, further…

.

When she saw Caspian up close, Jill thought that he looked like the sort of person who was meant to live in a castle. A silly thought, perhaps, since she knew he was a king– only she wasn’t thinking of Cair Paravel. No, Jill was picturing the ruins of an old British castle she’d visited once on holiday. She still remembered how the stonework had loomed over her, all towering arches and crumbling walls. That was where Caspian seemed to belong. He had an air of ancient tragedy about him. 

When Rilian disappeared, all things had wept but one. The serpent coiled beneath the earth and flicked its forked tongue, spewing poison. 

Now, the king half rose to bless his son. He whispered a few words as he caressed Rilian’s cheek, words meant only for those beloved ears. Jill saw Caspian’s lips move and wondered what a man like that could possibly say, when time ran so short. 

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They laid him in his ship, with horse and harness, as on a funeral pyre. Odin placed a ring upon his finger, and whispered in his ear.

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Jill furtively took Myths of the Northmen and held it up to the professor with a question in her eyes. She was still shy around him and Miss Plummer, though she wished she wasn’t. 

“Would you like to take that with you?”

“...Please.”

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It takes a certain kind of person to be exhilarated by the heights. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling. 

.

They walked to the train station with an autumn wind blowing hard, and though Jill couldn’t fathom why, she turned and saw Lucy grinning, fierce and joyful– grinning and reaching a hand out towards her friend.

Jill reached back and grabbed it. “What will you do, once we’re back in Narnia?” she asked. 

The wind blew harder. The feeling of anticipation grew and grew, until it felt so big that she couldn’t dream of containing it. And there was Lucy, holding Jill’s hand and laughing like it was easy.

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Preserve the freedom only, not the deeds of blood!

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The second time Jill went to Narnia, she found herself not at its edge, but at its end. 

The thing about the Norse apocalypse is: it feels believable. It doesn’t reach beyond earth’s horizon to pull down hope beyond hope. It’s only the kind of courage that hopeless humans have: you are going to die, so you might as well die bravely. 

They found the last king of Narnia bound to a tree. His eyes were faintly red from crying, and his wrists and ankles red from the coarseness of his fetters. 

In the Norse myths, Loki broke free of his fetters at the end of the world. He escaped to the helm of a ship made from the fingernails of the dead.

The last king of Narnia fell forward onto the ground when Eustace cut his bonds. Jill crouched down beside him and watched as he rubbed feeling back into his legs. He wasn’t so much older than her, she thought. Jill was sixteen years old; the last king of Narnia could not be older than twenty-two. 

In the myths, the gods were ancient, hewn from the bodies of giants old as the earth. 

Jill put out a hand and helped the last king of Narnia to his feet. Not for the last time, she shivered. Something deep inside her (deeper than her chest, than her heart, than the marrow of her bones, deep as her soul, deeper) was singing an elegy and she didn’t know why, or how, or where it had come from. The king clutching her hand, who could have been her older brother, would have no heir.

Yet when he asked, “Will you come with me?” Jill could only smile. 

“Of course,” she said. “It’s you we’ve come to help.”

.

And the voice forever cried, "Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!"

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“This really is Narnia at last,” murmured Jill. The springtime wood had little in common with the wintry lands she had traveled the last time she was here– but it awakened the same feelings of Northernness in her chest. 

Their party may as well have been the only people in the world, for how isolated their little wooden path seemed. Yet it wasn’t lonely, really, cocooned in all that green with the wind in the leaves and the primroses nodding and blue of the sky peeking through above. 

Jewel told stories about what ordinary life was like when there was peace here. As he spoke, Jill could almost hear the trees' voices speaking out of the living past, whispering, stay, stay. She was caught up to a great height, looking down across a rich, lovely plain full of woods and waters and cornfields, which spread away and away till it got thin and misty from distance. 

“Oh Jewel–” Jill said with a dreamy sigh, “wouldn’t it be lovely if Narnia just went on and on– like what you say it has been?”

She needn’t be a queen, as Susan and Lucy had been, but Jill would’ve liked to stay. She would've liked it all to stay, if it could. She might have been a woodmaid in a place like this: with the turn of the seasons, the swaying trees, swords into plowshares. Oh, if only she could stay!

Ahead, the last king of Narnia was softly singing a marching song. Jill tilted her head back and let warm shafts of sun caress her face. 

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I saw the pallid corpse of the dead sun borne through the Northern sky.

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“So,” said the last king of Narnia, “Narnia is no more.”

He tried to send them back. Jill shook her head. It was very loud and very quiet. “No, no, no, we won’t. I don’t care what you say. We’re going to stick by you whatever happens, aren’t we Eustace?”

They couldn’t go back anyway. Neither would they flee, not south across the mountains nor North into the great wide wastes. No, they would stay. They slept in a holly grove on the edge of ruin, waiting for the bonfires to light.

Jill slept fitfully, but in between she dreamed. She was high up in the air, buffeted by clouds and pierced by shafts of silver sunlight. 

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They all died, in the myths. Jill knew that. It seemed beautiful and brave when she read it in her book, tucked away safe in the Professor’s library. It was terrifying now– and yet it was beautiful and brave still.

The dogs came bounding up, every one of them, running up to the king and his men with their tails wagging. One of them leapt at Jill and licked her face, tongue roughly lapping up the sweat and tears that had dried on her cheeks. 

“Show us how to help, show us how, how, how!” the dogs were barking, almost ebullient in their enthusiasm. Jill bit back a sob. How lovely, she thought. How terribly beautiful. How dreadfully brave. 

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So perish the old Gods!

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The white rock gleamed like a moon in the darkness when Jill finally reached it. She ran back to it alone, her hands shaking, while her friends stayed forward with their gleaming swords and Jewel’s indigo horn.

The while rock gleamed like the moon. Jill’s first shot flew wide and landed in the soft grass. But she had another arrow on her string the next instant. It was speed that mattered, not aim. Speed, and turning aside when she cried, so as not to drip tears on her bowstring.

The white rock gleamed. In the myths, a wolf devoured the moon. Peter’s wolf, slain many thousand years ago in this world, opened his jaw wide and darkness fell over everything.

Her next arrow found its mark. After that, she lost track. She pulled, and she prayed that her hands kept still another minute. 

The unique thing–maybe the appealing thing–about the Norse myths, was that they told men to serve gods who were admittedly fighting with their backs to the wall and would certainly be defeated in the end. Jill let loose another arrow, felt the white rock at her back, and she knew that the clawing fear–beauty–bravery deep in her gut was the same feeling that she felt on the heights. The same feeling, but a different face. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling. 

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“I feel in my bones,” said Poggin, “that we shall all, one by one, pass through that dark door before morning. I can think of a hundred deaths that I would rather have died.”

“It is indeed a grim door,” said Tirian. “It is more like a mouth.” 

“Oh, can’t we do anything to stop it,” said Jill. Better to be dashed to the ground than it was to be devoured. 

“Nay, fair friend,” said Jewel. “It may be for us the door to Aslan’s country and we sup at his table tonight.”

A hand tangled itself in her hair and started to pull. Jill braced herself hard, for a moment, until her strength gave out. She was standing on the edge of a high, Northern cliff. She took another step, and fell.

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Perhaps when the moment comes, our bite will prove better than our howls. If not, we shall have to confess that two millennia of Christianity have not yet brought us to the level of the Stoics and Vikings. For the worst (according to the flesh) that a Christian need face is to die in Christ and rise in Christ; some were content to die, and not to rise, with Father Odin.

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The world inside the stable was beautiful. It made Jill’s chest ache in all the loveliest ways. 

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Build it again, O ye bards, fairer than before!

#okayyyy so #i've been down the tolkien/lewis/norse mythology rabbit hole lately #it's a lot #but i've been picking at this piece in my head for a while now #which is more a rhapsody than anything else #but another for my narnia/classic lit sequence of pieces #the quotes are mostly pulled from Longfellow's Tegners Drapa translation #which Jack discusses in Surprised by Joy as one of the works that inspired feelings of joy and 'Northernness' in his boyhood #there's also a Weight of Glory quote in there #(paraphrased) #and one from the intro to Joy Gresham's book on the 10 Commandments that Jack wrote #(that's that last passage in italics) #i'm not really sure i was trying to make a point with this so much as just. explore that feeling of northernness #bc really northernness is two things #it's joy and exhileration brought on by beauty #and it's that beautiful hopeless courage when faced with unwinnable battles #and i love how intertwined those two things are for lewis #and let's be honest for me too #so that's what this is #hope it holds together okay #narnia #chapter one #night under narnia #dying of thirst #pontifications and creations #leah stories

[citygoldmedia25]

What’s The Tea about Doja Cat Weight Loss?

The American Rapper and Singer who is widely popular because of her unique discography, she rose to fame with her single Mooo! In 2018. The song got viral on social media as a meme but it helped Doja cat to get the attention of everyone and now she is one of the most talented and famous singers aka rapper. Since she is popular, she started to work on her vocals and personality and here we will talk about Doja cat weight loss journey.

Her fans love her wholesome personality and music, she surprised them at her live performance, and it started to trend on Twitter and Instagram. While working on her music, she began to work on her body too as she had body dysmorphia and it made her really insecure.

Her song “Juicy” perfectly describes her feelings. During her teen years, like any person she too started to feel changes in her body both internally and externally. She thought her body didn't look good with any kind of dress she used to wear. Now that she is mature enough to know herself and her problems. She finds joy in little things and eating a good meal while working on her body. She admits about still feeling insecure because of body dysmorphia since she is a celebrity and the media constantly captures her body movement from every angle.

What was the process of Doja cat weight loss?

Doja cat aka Amala Ratna Zandile Dlamine opted for a natural and healthy way of reducing her weight and achieving an attractive figure.

Media even tried to put false allegations on the process of  Doja cat weight loss, there were many rumours about her going for surgery and extreme diet while reducing the consumption of basic meals. She faced criticism from haters but every rumour proved to be false.

On May 24, 2021 Doja cat tweeted : “I lost some weight and there’s absolutely nothing y'all can do about it.” With this she put an end to the discussion.

Diet meal of Doja cat

Doja cat lost around 20 pounds in a short time and it was not easy.

She started with eating plant based meals and high protein intake which included the following :

Spinach Green veggies Salmon fish Egg wraps Beef Chicken steak Seaweed chips Fruit and vegetable juice Low carbs weight loss keto diet Tuna Kale Quinoa Plentiful of water Her customized diet consisted of Two eggs and spinach tortilla with caramalized onions pepper jack cheese and hot sauce, then she would roll everything in seaweed chip. Workout routine of Doja cat She started to work on her body under the guidance of her personal gym trainer. She started with Cardio and weight training exercises to strengthen her muscles. Cardio helped her in burning a lot of calories. Running, cycling and dancing was her everyday routine. Deadlifts Squats She used kettlebells as a full body exercise for flexibility, fat burning and endurance. Jump squats helped her in athletic activity and dancing at her live shows.

Body shaming on Social Media

Doja cat was body shamed on social media, whenever she would upload photos or videos on her media handle or paparazzi would post her pics on their platforms. Her haters would criticize her in every way possible. She was body shamed both times before and after taking control of her body fitness.

Her journey was truly inspirational, she worked hard for it and still received a backlash from haters and media. Despite all the struggle, she continued to make her health progress and music.

#doja cat weight loss

[temilyrights]

the case of us (chapter nine)

Jack Sloane x Reader

Word Count: 3690

A/N: *posts despite not liking my own writing* It’s been three weeks, sorry! My inspiration for this story has dulled which sucks as there’s only a couple of chapters left. I hope you enjoy, finally some angst back! Anyway, as always, feedback is welcome and very much appreciated :)

Read on AO3

Chapter Eight  Chapter Ten

It was a good morning. You’d actually had a full night’s sleep and were feeling refreshed after finally getting a break from two straight weeks of heavy cases. The traffic had been amazing, which was unheard of, meaning you’d also had enough time to stop off at your favourite coffee shop and still arrived to work 15 minutes earlier than normal. You were beaming. Despite the heavy cases, there had been an energy building between you and Jack the last couple of weeks. The soft smiles and touches growing more often. Ellie had noticed too. She kept sending you smirks from across the bullpen any time Jack appeared, and you knew she was holding back from asking questions. 

Your mind constantly played over the morning in the diner after she’d returned from San Diego, both of you lingering too long in a hug and the way her fingers had stroked the inside of your wrist at one point when you’d been eating. A smile brightens up your face as you think about it. You’d decided last night that you were finally going to do it. You were going to ask Jacqueline Sloane out on a date.

As you got off the elevator, wiping the remains of a pastry from your mouth and taking a sip of your coffee, you were surprised to see Ellie, Nick, and Jimmy all surrounding Tim and his desk talking in hushed whispers. 

Jimmy was the first to notice you, alerting the others to your presence with a too-loud “Y/N!” that had them all whipping around to face you. Your step momentarily falters in surprise before you continue on the route to your desk. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Jimmy laughed and you could see the others physically cringe. Nick looked like he wanted to slap him over the head.

“In the bullpen of the place I work. How shocking...” sarcasm drips from your tongue as Jimmy releases a nervous laugh.

“What Jimmy means is you’re earlier than usual, that’s all.” Ellie jumps in.

“Ok well, whatever this is” you wave your hand in their direction. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be involved so can we-”

“Hey, did you guys hear about Jack’s new girlfriend?” The others all groan, Nick releasing a few swear words as Jimmy says a nervous ‘oh boy’. Your head snaps around to stare at Kasie who’s just entered the bullpen. She freezes as she takes in everyone’s reactions, her gaze finally settling on you as she breathes a quiet ‘oh’. 

“Jack’s got a girlfriend?” Your voice is strangled as your heart drops into your stomach. She couldn’t, could she? You would have noticed; she would have said something. Had you been imagining everything for the last couple of weeks? Your mind swarms as your gaze turns to the team. 

Kasie, now frozen in fear, looks to the rest of the team for help as they all try to avoid both yours and her gaze. Finally, Ellie sighs meeting your eyes. “There’s a rumour going around...Agent Gomez saw Jack getting coffee with a woman yesterday after work, and they seemed pretty cosy. Apparently, there was even a kiss.”

“Right.” You lower yourself into your chair. Right ok. You take a deep breath trying to calm yourself as your hands skim over your desk and you attempt to keep yourself together, everyone watching you closely. 

“It’s just a rumour though I mean-”

“Whatcha guys talking about?” Jack’s voice chimes into the bullpen as she joins the group by Tim’s desk, flashing that megawatt smile of hers. For fuck sake. This is what you get for having a good morning. 

“Oh, just discussing the case from yesterday.” Tim jumps in before anyone can say anything. You’re still focused on your desk, unable to lift your head and see her but if you did you know you’d see her smile dim slightly, aware of the tension in the room and the obvious lie. 

Jimmy and Kasie quickly make themselves sparse, rattling off an excuse about needing to start work. You feign interest in your computer, listening but not joining the conversation between the team and Jack. She starts laughing and you automatically lift your head, captivated by the pure joy in her voice and face. You grimace and you’re pretty sure your heart breaks at that exact moment. 

Jack must notice your unusual expression as she makes her way over to your desk, perching herself on the edge. Your heart starts hammering. “Hey, you okay?” 

You offer her a small smile “Yeah. Just a bad morning I guess.” It’s a flimsy excuse but it may have worked if Jack’s eyes hadn’t found the coffee cup sitting beside you. She looks back at you, confusion clear because she knew that you only put in the effort to go all the way to Amour’s Coffee House on a good morning.

“Sure ok. Did you want to get lunch together today?” Jack bites her lip, subtitling playing with her hands and you’re surprised to see the nerves she’s usually so good at hiding. 

Did you want to get lunch? The opportunity to spend a whole 45 minutes (bar an interruption) with just Jack, you’d usually jump at the chance but...was she going to tell you about her new girlfriend? You don’t think you’re ready to hear the news from her yet, you need time to process, to be able to hide your obvious disappointment because she’d expect you to be happy for her. You should be happy for her. How did you get it all so wrong?

“I can’t today. Maybe tomorrow?” You offer and the way Jack’s face drops in disappointment is almost enough to make you reconsider. 

“Yeah no problem, anyway I should get back to work.” Jack stands, hands signalling in the direction of her office, her eyes still watching you closely, clearly confused by this whole conversation. You try to smile but it doesn’t meet your eyes. Jack just nods before turning and walking away. 

After she’s turned the corner you breathe a sigh of relief. Looking up, you notice that everyone’s finally sitting at their desks, they all offer you sad and understanding smiles. Nick goes to say something, but you cut him off before he can. 

“Nope. Whatever you’re about to say, don't.” 

“Y/N-”

“Nope. I’m not talking about this with any of you. It is what it is, let's all just move on.” 

----

You’d known you hadn’t exactly been subtle with your feelings towards Jack. You just didn’t know, apparently, the whole of NCIS knew as well if the pitiful looks you’d been getting the whole day were anything to go by. If there was one thing about NCIS you hated was how quickly gossip travelled.

“Poor Agent Y/N. She must be devastated.” You tense, stopping yourself from turning the corner into the break room as you hear your name. 

“And to find out from rumours as well? You should have seen her face when they told her.” You didn’t recognise the voices of either of the agents, but their grievous tones were enough to make your stomach crawl. 

“Poor girl. Such a pity really. I wonder what Agent Sloane thinks about it all. Do you think she knows?”

Your eyes are squeezed shut as you listen, so you don’t notice when Gibbs enters the break room from the other side. It’s not until he clears his throat, halting the women's conversation that your eyes snap open. He’s directing his piercing blue glare at them, and he doesn’t need to say anything, as the 2 agents quickly hurry out of the room. They duck their head in shame when they notice you but don’t apologise just hurry up their exit.

“T-Thank you.” You manage a small smile, stepping into the room and hoping Gibbs doesn’t notice the way your voice falters.

“Don’t mention it.” Gibbs surprises you by pulling you into a one-armed hug that you immediately relax into. “Coffee?” Gibbs asks as you pull away, sniffing and quickly wiping away the tear that had managed to escape. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Gibbs goes to get the drinks while you return to your desk and focus back on the report you’d been working on before you’d gone in search of food. Which reminds you that you still hadn’t eaten. Your stomach continues to make noises of protest and you swear you could smell grilled cheese which is obviously just your imagination, but it’s rude because it’s totally what you would have ordered if you’d gone to lunch with Jack.

The smell was only getting stronger and you look up to see if one of the others was eating only to be surprised to see Jack standing by Ellie’s desk talking to the younger woman. Your eyes zero in on the brown paper bag in Jack’s hand, there was a grease mark in one corner and your mouth waters.

Your eyes break away when you hear Jack’s laughter and heat prickles at your cheeks when you realise she’s laughing at you. “See something you like?” Her wicked smirk only makes your blush brighter as she saunters over to your desk and perches in her spot. You don’t know how to respond so instead release an awkward laugh that makes one of Jack’s brows shoot up and really it should be illegal to look this good. “I know you said you couldn’t do lunch, so I thought I’d get you something cause I know you haven’t eaten yet.” Jack’s smile is soft and caring as she hands you the sandwich.

“Thank you.” You grin, opening up the bag and pulling out the grilled cheese. You take a bite and moan as you savour the glorious taste of the strong cheese. “Oh, this is good.” You say after swallowing your mouthful. When you look at Jack you notice she’s got a light blush covering her cheeks. You frown but before you can question her Gibbs strolls over and hands you the coffee he’d gone to get you and then the realisation of why he’d gone to get you the coffee comes back as well. 

“Thanks, Gibbs.” The wide smile you had on your face disappears, replaced by a much smaller one as you accept the drink

“Oh, I see how it is, get me to get you food, Gibbs to get your coffee. Should we get Nick to do your paperwork next?” Jack laughs, rolling her eyes playfully at you. Her smile dulls, confusion clouding her face when she notices you’re no longer smiling. 

“Even if I was willing to do her paperwork, she’d double-check everything I’d written afterwards anyway.” Nick’s words erupt laughter from the rest of the team, and you feel your blush rising again.

“Just because I have standards.” You snark, sticking your tongue out at Nick who makes a noise of mock outrage. You can feel Jack watching you closely still but you avoid her eyes, instead, burying your face in the grilled cheese. You pay for that though when you take a too-large bite and it burns your tongue. 

“Ow! shit!” You splutter as you spit the mouthful into the trash bin behind you when you turn back around Jack’s already holding out your water bottle which you quickly accept and down half of it. She was always there for you, helping whenever you needed it. God, you don’t know how you’re going to be able to get through this without letting her know. 

“And that’s why we blow our food,” Jack says condescendingly but her eyes dance with humour. 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose, did I?” You don’t know where the words came from. Jack rears back in surprise, her mouth hanging open in shock at your sharp tone. You can feel your face heating up with embarrassment and you’re beginning to feel overwhelmed by how close Jack is as your mind screams ‘Girlfriend! Girlfriend! Girlfriend!’. The others are shooting you surprised looks and you gulp, shaking your head. “Sorry, I uh,” The concern in Jack’s face is too much and you feel tears building behind your eyes. “I’ve just gotta…” You stand up from your desk, Jack tries to reach out for you but you move too fast as you head away from the bullpen. 

“Y/N!” Jack calls after you, shock still evident in her voice, but you don’t turn around, just lower your head and keep walking.

You end up on the roof of all places. The soft breeze ruffles your hair and you begin to relax as you rest against the brick wall. Holding your head in your hands, shame rushes through you. You desperately needed to get control of your emotions before you fucked everything up. Frustrated tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you wipe them away as you release a loud groan. 

You needed to get a hold of yourself. Get through the day, go home and then you could cry. Let your emotions take control for a few hours and then peace yourself back together and be the friend Jack thought you were. Be supportive of her and her new girlfriend and not let your crushing disappointment show. Ever. 

The door opens from next to you and you quickly push yourself off the wall ready to make your exit when you notice it’s Ellie. You sigh and lean back against the wall as she comes and leans beside you. 

“Is she pissed?” You ask as you anxiously chew your lip, looking off into the distance instead of at the woman next to you. 

“No. She’s confused,” Ellie dips her head slightly. “And maybe also a little hurt.” 

“Oh.” You sigh. “I’ll apologise. I just needed to get out of there.” You don’t know how you’re going to apologise. Hey, sorry I snapped at you. I just found out you have a girlfriend and I’m terribly jealous and upset because I thought there was something between us? You couldn’t lie to her either. She’d see through it instantly. 

“She wanted to follow. Gibbs stopped her and then Izzy phoned again.” 

Your heart drops into your stomach, a lump forming in your throat. “Izzy?”

“Yeah. She’s been phoning all day.” 

Understanding rushes through you. “She’s Jack’s girlfriend.” It made sense. You’d mistaken Jack’s happiness of having a new girlfriend, of reconnecting with Izzy, as excitement for you. You’d been so stupid. Of course, it was Izzy. It was always Izzy. 

“What? No way. Jack’s been avoiding her calls.” 

You shake your head, trying to keep the tears that were threatening to fall again at bay. “They met up again when she was in San Diego. They went out for drinks.” 

“That doesn’t mean they’re now dating.” 

“God Ellie, I’ve been such a fool. I was going to ask her out today. I thought…” You trail off, wiping away tears as they trickle down your cheeks. “I really thought she might…” Your eyes blur with tears and Ellie pulls you into a hug as you cry into her shoulder. Ellie squeezes tighter as your cries grow louder. 

“Hey, It’s going to be okay. Maybe you should talk-”

“No.” You shake your head, pulling away from her arms and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “She can’t ever know.”

“Y/N-”

“No.” The venom in your tone surprises her. “I’ll be fine. Her and Izzy have a history if there’s a chance Jack can be happy; I'm not going to jeopardize that.”

“And what about your happiness?”

You shrug. “I’ve done this before. I can do it again. I’ve never been great at relationships anyway, maybe this is all for the best.”

“For the record, I think you’re making a mistake.”

“I’m making the choice I can live with. I can’t risk losing her Ellie.”

Ellie wants to say more. She was convinced this was all a big misunderstanding because she’d seen the way you two looked at each other. There was just no way Jack didn’t feel the same things you did, and Ellie would bet her job on it. She doesn’t say anything though, knows there’s no use trying to fight you on this. She sighs. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get back to work.”

Ellie nods. You send her off to the bullpen while you head to the bathroom, fixing what remains of your makeup and making sure you didn’t look like you’d been crying. You head to the good coffee shop down the street and grab some for the whole team, an apology for your outburst that they all happily accept. 

Taking a deep breath and squaring your shoulders, you ascend the stairs to Jack’s office. Every part of you was screaming that you should run in the opposite direction, avoid her for as long as possible until you could get over your feelings for her, but you knew she didn’t deserve that and you don’t think you’d even have the willpower to do it. 

Jack’s sitting at her desk, biting the hangnail on her thumb. She’s looking at a folder, but you can tell she’s not taking anything in. You knock lightly on the door, swallowing roughly when Jack looks to you, her eyes a sea of emotions. She doesn’t speak. 

Stepping further into her office, you place the coffee cup on her desk in front of her. “I’m sorry... about my outburst.” You can barely hold her eyes. Jack takes the coffee, taking a sip as she waits for you to continue. “I don’t know what came over me. It was totally unprofessional-” 

 “Unprofessional?” Jack’s brows shoot up, shock and hurt seeping into her tone. “I don’t give a crap about professionalism. I care about you.” Your eyes squeeze shut as your stomach flutters. “I care about what made you so upset.” Jack gets up from her chair, shutting her office door before coming to stand beside you. She grabs your hand turning you so you face her. Pulling together all the confidence you can muster you meet her eyes, removing your hand from hers. You miss Jack’s hurt look as you wrap your arms around your waist and take a breath. 

“I got some bad news this morning.” Jack’s eyes widen and you can see the panic rushing across her face as worse and worse scenarios run through her head. “I’m fine.” You rush to explain. “I just didn’t expect it and it shook me a bit. I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” It’s the closest to the truth you could think of without giving anything away. 

Jack knows something isn’t quite right. You were never cryptic with her. “Maybe I can help? What happened?” 

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help, not this time.” 

Her brows furrow in confusion. “Did you want to talk about it?” 

“It’s fine, really. I just need to forget about it and move on.” And be the friend you expect me to be.

Jack steps forward, reaching for your hand again. You squeeze your eyes shut as they fall to focus on the floor instead of Jack whose concern was only growing. “Hey,” Her fingers touch your chin, forcing your face up again to meet her eyes. “Y/N. Come on, talk to me.” 

You move your face from her reach. You definitely should have waited till tomorrow to have this talk when the wounds were at least a little less fresh and when you had a proper story prepared. “I should be getting back to work.” Jack’s hand tightens on yours, stopping you from pulling out of her grasp. You sigh. “Look, I am sorry for snapping at you. I really am but I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” 

Jack looks at you closely, brows furrowing as she analyses you. “Why have you hardly looked me in the eye since you got in here?” 

You tense. You desperately needed to get out of this room. “I…” You clear your throat as you try to think of something to say. Jack’s mobile starts ringing from where it sits on her desk and you have to stop yourself from breathing a sigh of relief. However, when she doesn’t make any effort to move, still completely focused on you, you speak up. “You should get that. It could be important.” Could be Izzy.

“They’ll phone back if it is.” You could see Jack’s impatience growing as she crosses her arms across her chest. You force yourself to meet her gaze, guilt churning in your stomach when you see the hurt in her eyes. 

The phone stops ringing. The room is completely silent as you stare at each other. You don’t know what to say, how to get through this without letting her know about the pain you were feeling, about how disappointed and embarrassed you were because you’d been convinced she felt the same way. Tears begin building behind your eyes and you sigh. “Jack-”

The phone starts ringing again and Jack releases a frustrated sigh as she looks between you and her phone. “Don’t move.” She says and makes her way over to pick up her phone.

You needed to get the hell out of this room. You dig your phone out of your pocket and then turn to Jack. “We got a lead. I’ve got to go.” You speak quietly, as to not to disturb her call, signalling to the door. 

Jack shakes her head, rolling her eyes. Pissed at your obvious lie. “Sorry one second.” She removes the phone from her ear, holding it against her chest. “This isn’t over.” 

You don’t respond, just duck your head, and make your way out of her office. Everything was going to be fine. Jack would drop the subject soon, especially if you could act normal. Which you could. Easily. Tomorrow you’d bring coffee and pretend everything was fine and try to distance yourself a little. Not enough for Jack to notice but enough that you didn’t feel like you were drowning. 

This was going to be difficult, but it was the right thing to do.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #ncis #reader insert #slow burn #the case of us #chapter nine #multi chap #fem!reader #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

[pathetic-has-been-rockstar]

Carols and decorations

Pairing: Dean x Castiel

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​

Square filled: singing Christmas songs

Warnings: none

Summary:   When he has to put on the last touches around the bunker, Dean finds himself thinking about several things and humming holiday songs. Castiel doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about it, and Dean’s singing talent is not the only reason.

Words: 2246

This can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

The atmosphere in the bunker is mostly happy and relaxed. The accident with the haunted Christmas tree has been quickly forgotten, and everything seems back to normal, as far as normal goes when a family of hunters is involved.

While you and Jack are gone to pick up chestnuts, luckily bringing Crowley along with you, Sam, Dean and Eileen are in the kitchen. They’re currently working on thinning out the endless provisions of Christmas cookies bought by Jack and Castiel along with the ugly Christmas sweaters.

When Dean catches the stares between Sam and Eileen, and he notices how their hands keep touching under the small mountain of discarded wrapping, he knows that's his cue. He grabs a handful of candies and stands up.

“Well, guys, I'll go check if Cas needs help with putting up the rest of the decorations. You stay here, we'll call if we need help.”

The happy couple barely look at him while he leaves the kitchen, mindlessly popping another candy in his mouth. He heads for the library, finding Castiel sunk in his favourite armchair, reading “A Christmas Carol”. For a second, Dean stops chewing on whatever it is in his mouth, and looks at Cas.

He looks deeply absorbed by the book, the inseparable trench coat gathered under his body, half covering him, half draping his figure. Dean feels a sudden lumps in his throat, and unconsciously wets his lips. He's done it a million times before, in every kind of situation, but the idea of calling Cas now... it bothers him.

Besides, he knew what would happen. Cas would lift his head, and he'd look at him. At the thought, Dean feels the knot in his throat getting tighter, and he's frustrated with himself. He's Cas. He's his best friend. He's the angel that's been in countless battles with him, whose eyes Dean can read as much as he can read Sam... and now he's being childish about looking at him. That won't do.

“Hey, Cas?”

Exactly like he predicted, Castiel stops looking at the page and lifts his gaze, moving his attention on Dean. The moment their eyes meet, he automatically smiles.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Uh... why are you reading?”

“I don't understand the nature of your question” Cas answers, tilting lightly his head on a side. Dean's stomach is surely making a number right now.

“I thought... uh, Metatron didn't kind of... poured every bit of human culture in your head?”

“Oh. Yes, he did, but you know I like doing things my way. Besides, Jack was asking me about Christmas stories earlier. There's a version of this book with puppets and another with... ducks, apparently?”

Dean smiles at Castiel's confusion. “Yeah, the Disney one. It's pretty good.”

“Another childhood memory I can shatter?” Castiel asks, making Dean grin like a schoolgirl.

“No, you'll have to do better than that, this time. But if you were planning on zapping me to Disneyland, I might make up some shit.”

“I never pegged you for a man who might want to go to Disneyland.”

Dean just scrolls his shoulders. “Believe me, it's not the first surprise of these holidays. Anyway... I was about to put on some decorations. Wanna help?”

The way Cas casually throws his legs off the armrest has Dean wondering about how long he needed to master his vessel to such a level of grace. He zones out for a moment, trying to think about the times he's seen him doing something graceless or even just slightly clumsy. He can't recall any, but when he comes back to reality, he finds Castiel intently observing him.

“Dean? Are you ok?”

Forcing his brain to start working again, Dean swallows hard. “I... yeah. I'm great. This way, there's a lot of stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

“We gotta... hang the lights, check the baubles in the tree, and... you know, stuff like that.”

“Fine. Any inspiration?”

A wide grin spreads on Dean's face while he answers “Yeah. I was thinking about something looking a bit like... you know, the huge one in New York, with the ice skating thing under it.”

“Don't you think it's a bit ambitious?” Castiel teases him, but he's actually slightly worried. Dean has been on a sort of Christmas high for days. He might actually try something extremely over the top.

“I stopped the Apocalypse three times, and I killed Hitler. I can deal with a Christmas tree.”

“Sure. The same Christmas tree from which I had to save you?”

Dean rolls his eyes, slightly exasperated. “Will I ever hear the end of it?”

“... would anyone in this bunker hear the end of it, if they brought along something haunted, and almost wreck the whole festivities?”

“... probably not.”

“Then probably not” Castiel states. Dean could swear that he's trying not to laugh.

“Alright, sassy pants, you know what? I don't have to stand here and be treated like this.”

“You asked for my help.”

“Yeah, to hang decorations, not to become the punchline of your jokes!”

“I'm just doing what you usually do with me. Friendly banter, right?”

Incredulous, Dean is now absolutely sure that Cas is making fun of him. He's also very surprised in finding out that he might actually find the whole thing quite pleasant. “You're getting too used to this humanity thing, you know? Get back to your book, I don't need no judgement while I hang my Christmas decorations.”

“Your decorations? You mean those Jack and I bought?”

“Shut up.”

After a couple of hours, Dean is humming Christmas songs again. He's surprised when Castiel starts humming in tune with him, and shoots him a weird look before laughing.

“Come on! I'm a great singer!” he declares, balancing some delicate glass ornament in his hand. Castiel just nods, unusually quiet.

“Guess that Emmanuel thing really stuck on you, uh?”

“The... Dean, how did you find out about that?”

Castiel stammers, looking at Dean like he just casually confessed some incredible truth. Dean has rarely seen the angel so surprised, especially when he's not even supposed to be.

“You... you were called like that, when you were a healer, after Leviathans, weren't you? We came to find you, remember?”

“... oh, that... that's correct. Yes, indeed, I was called Emmanuel. I... forgot about that.”

“Yeah? Then why did you freak out that I knew?”

“Because I didn't remember that you knew.”

“Cas, you still are a shitty liar. What are you not telling me?”

Castiel seems uncomfortable, but ultimately sighs and starts talking. “Well, that... that song you were singing... I might have been the one involved in his creation.”

“... you... what?”

“The person who wrote this... John Mason Neale. He was a pious boy, who was challenged to write a new hymn because he told the old ones in his community that he felt the old ones didn't make justice to the Lord.”

Dean seems genuinely curious and moves a hand to encourage Castiel to go on.

“So... I showed up. To help him.”

“... wait, what?”

“I was supposed to inspire him with holy visions, appropriate to his religion, of course, and... that song was the result.”

Dean scoff, incredulous. “You are telling me that you inspired one of the most... I don't know, world-spread Christmas songs of all the frickin' times, and you never once thought to tell me?”

“Dean, I also discussed poetry with Christopher Marlowe and tried to convince him not to take that deal, but you never once asked me about it.”

“... Christopher Marlowe? The... the dude who died with a knife in his eye?”

“Yes. How do you know that?”

“I dated a chick who was pretty into English literature and... and...”, Dean stammers, reading a certain annoyance in Castiel's eyes. Not the best move to talk about her, probably. “It was like... a lifetime ago. High school, go figures. It just stuck.”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“So... is that why you picked the name Emmanuel after you came back from the Leviathans thing?”

Castiel tilts his head, almost surprised. He never made that connection. “I don't know, actually. It must have been set somewhere in my memory. I couldn't remember anything, but that name just felt... right. It must have been called in joy and devotion, to stick so deeply.”

The notion that Castiel remembered the name some random guy gave him centuries ago, and not the one he used around him, makes Dean feel terrible.

“Well... I hope next time you have an amnesia you can remember your name, after all that we've been through together.”

“What do you think I'm implying here, Dean?” Castiel's question is asked with an unusual kindness, almost with care. It catches Dean by surprise, and forces him to articulate his thoughts.

“I don't know. That you forgot your name because we never used it with enough... reverence, or devotion, or whatever else?”

“I surely wasn't implying anything like that.”

“Well, it sounded a lot like it, actually.”

Castiel must make a real effort to stop himself from smiling. Of all the new things that are happening, seeing Dean uncomfortable around him might be the most surprising.

“Dean... you're being needlessly defensive. I have no idea why that name stuck with me, but I was just referring to the fact that, for about three hundred years, that hymn that I inspired has been sung all around the world, to sing praise of my Father. Can you understand what I was trying to say, now?”

Of course Cas was talking about a bigger picture. Of course he made a fool of himself. “... I think so.”

Castiel puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing lightly, prompting a curious stare. “Dean... I understand. I know what you've been through, and I know what you are trying to do. This new world, this new life... it's strange. Even for me. It's difficult to think that the absentee father I praised my whole existence is not what I thought I'd be...”

Fighting the lump forming in his throat, Dean scoffs, thinking about his own father. “Eh. You'll survive that one.”

“... and it's almost impossible to understand that we truly and well overpowered God himself. If these events are almost out of my comprehension, I understand that they must be even more unsettling for you. But that's not all, isn't it?”

Dean lets out a strangled sound, followed by an incoherent mumble, from which Cas can only make out “change”, “family” and “safety”. He nods and goes on.

“Adjusting to something new, learning new things about yourself... it can be hard.”

Suddenly awkward, Dean snaps at him, but he doesn't pull back or shy away from the reassuring touch on his shoulder. The awkwardness has shifted to something else. Frustration. Confusion, and, most of all... impatience.

“Cas, you plan on gettin' somewhere or just on my nerves? I'm not Jack. I don't need pep talk.”

“Sure. I'm just saying... don't be too hard on yourself. The whole world changed. If you changed along with it... it would be natural. Perhaps even better. I, personally, am very curious to see the new Dean Winchester.”

“... yeah, I don't know, man. I doubt it'll be a showstopper.”

“Showstopper was the starting point, Dean.”

Just while Dean's cheeks turn to a bright red and his jaw drops a little, Castiel presses a light kiss on his unshaven cheek before drawing back just as quickly.

“Come on, we have many things to do.”

Dean is spared from finding some adequate response to Castiel's gesture by the door of the bunker opening. An instant later, an overly excited Jack rushes down the stairs, holding a basket and running to Dean and Castiel.

He shoves the basket in Castiel's hands and proudly beams at him and Dean.

“Chestnuts!”

Cas nods, looking down at the basket. “Yes, I see that.”

“I picked them up! And I petted a hellhound! Two, actually.”

Dean looks at him, surprised. “You did what?”

“I picked up chestnuts! And we roasted them, too! Have you ever tried them? We could roast them. Maybe lighting a fire outside?”

“No, Jack, go back to the hellhound thing, please.”

“Oh, yeah. Crowley brought his two along, and I played with them. Y/N did, too.”

Dean groans, seeing you and Crowley walking back inside together. He snaps at him as soon as you two move closer, joining Jack.

“Crowley! Hellhounds? Really?”

Imperturbable as ever, Crowley speaks. “Pets are excellent to help children with their development, Squirrel. Everyone knows that.”

“Pets! Regular animals! Not... Cerberus!” It's clear that Dean's nerves come from something else, but you're all far too used to those little outbursts.

“You'll be happy to know that both Juliet and Banquo only have one head each. They're perfectly trained and capable of behaving properly. Perhaps I might interest you in some sessions, Squirrels? Your manners might improve...”

Dean seems about to leash out, but instead he shoots you a deadly glare

“Damn kid, I hope you know what you're doing” is all that he mutters before turning tail and marching away, followed by Castiel.

Too surprised by that jab, you just head to the kitchen to get some water, hoping that Crowley didn't notice your surprise at Dean's words. On his part, Crowley chuckles and looks at you walking away. He then places a hand on Jack's shoulder.

“Come on boy, let's see how we can poke some fun at your fathers. All in good spirit, naturally.”

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

Thank you for reading! 

I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost or copy my works or part/s of it, not even if you give credits.

#spn #spnchristmasbingo #christmas songs #dean x castiel #fluff #men of letters bunker #everyone is a bit of a moron #dean is having thoughts and feels #christmas fluff

[kdtheghostwriter]

SNK #119 - Jaeger ni Kissu

Let me get some Fs in the chat, pls.

So, what the hell? Shiganshina am I right? What’s the deal with that crazy place, huh?

You would think this fandom, more than all the others, would be used to getting the slider when they expect a fastball. (That’s right! I know baseball stuff!) Even I have to admit, though, Isa got me with this one. It’s all pretty thrilling to me as a reader. I’ll explain why later but first, some housekeeping. Remember when I said this a few months ago? That Eren’s expression was less relieved and more shocked leaning toward concerned? Welp.

Arm extended; mouth agape. The universal signs of “No, not that you asshole!” It’s also masterful paneling to have Colt’s cry of “Wait!” superimposed onto the Attack Titan, which we know can’t speak. Eren was mortified by the idea of his hometown being overrun with Titans yet again. That was hardly surprising. What did surprise me was Zeke’s look of shock as the Grice brothers revealed themselves. He still screamed, of course, as should have been expected. But that moment of hesitation…hmm. I guess he really did like Colt. It’s not out of the question. He just liked his plan more.

And since we’re on the topic, I’d like some words about this panel right here.

Dammit all, this one hit more than any of the others for me. See, Zeke, it’s not just you who understands the joys and the sorrows and the burdens of being an older brother. I do myself. Falco realized what was about to happen and tried to save his brother’s life by pushing him away. Colt refused and held him tighter.

Don’t worry, Falco! Your big brother will always be with you!

Fuck me, how am I supposed to keep my chill after a scene like that? Sure enough, Colt was scorched as his brother transformed into a mindless, lumbering monster which transitions me nicely into something else I said in the aftermath of #117. Someone did indeed have to die. I only guessed wrong who.

Reiner is going to survive this manga whether he wants to or not. More importantly, what a champion Porco is. Knew he was cooked, so he put all his energy into healing his body. Then he left the cockpit to distract Falco’s Titan and save two people. The fact that he did this right after seeing the memory of his brother confessing to Reiner that he lied is no accident. He wasn’t just proving to Reiner he was better; he was getting one back at his big brother. It’s equal parts heroic and tragic which is par for the course of this series. He died in almost the exact same way Marcel did all those years ago – saving Reiner’s dumbass from being nommed up. I’ll miss you Porco, but at least you’ll live on in the memories of the little one.

 Speaking of little ones: maybe we should start calling her “Deadeye” Gabi Braun. This was such an inspired choice. Not just because of who pulled the trigger in the end (and partly because of whose gun she used), which got the intended reaction, but also because of who she hit. I thought for sure she would have taken aim for Zeke. It would have made sense. A wounded, stationary target is a lot easier to mark than one sprinting at full speed. (That’s what MGS3 taught me at least.) She’s a soldier, though, and the main reason she hijacked the blimp in Liberio was to kill The Usurper. It’s unclear to me if Magath’s mission here is strictly Dead or Alive or if they were trying to capture him but either way her mission, for now, appears to be accomplished. I say “appears to be” because it’s time for my favorite monthly mini-game:

WHY, SWAY, WHY??

There’s a lot we don’t know yet about Titan powers, Eldian biology and the transference from one vessel to another. If Marley’s goal specifically was to recapture the Founder instead of simply stopping Eren from using it, this is what Zeke would call a miscalculation. We know that Titan Powers get transferred Avatar-style to a rando newborn Eldian when a Shifter dies before succession. I actually believe there’s a lot of story left to go. But! There isn’t enough left to now try and track down, out of all the Eldians still in the world, which one holds this terrifying power. (That would make a great AU, though.) Not to mention, we don’t know what happens in the case of a Shifter holding more than one power. Do all three Titans go to one child? Do they get split up back into three by the P A T H S? We don’t know. All of this is reason to expect some chicanery in the next few months or so. Besides any of that we are no closer to knowing what Eren’s true intentions are in regards to why he wants to use the Founder. Isayama Hajime is absolutely the kind of author to blast his main character into oblivion before the story has concluded. He is not the kind of author to leave a stone unturned. We found out about the Shifters and we found out about the basement. Whatever knowledge was revealed to him will not be kept secret, even if it isn’t by his own hand.

Sidebar: decapitation is weird, even in messy circumstances like this one. The electric signals in the brain often keep firing for minutes after the head has been removed. This is how beheaded snakes continue to hiss and bite after the fact. My troll prediction would be Eren’s head landing in Zeke’s hand like so many baseballs in his lifetime; the Coordinate is activated and Shiganshina proceeds to have a bad time.

I don’t know, folks. I couldn’t help but think of one very important rule as I read the closing pages.

Always Double Tap, dude. Gabi just had to go for the swag. See, if she had popped Eren’s head like a bloody firework I would have said, “Welp, you had a good run, kid.” But nope. You went and left the most powerful being in existence an outside outside chance of survival, and if he does, even for a few seconds more, everybody is screwed.

No segue, I just love these two teaming up. It makes sense that Mikasa and Armin have gotten closer as Eren has gotten more distant. I think seeing how that dynamic evolves as the story builds to its conclusion will be very important. For now, on the surface level, they just really care for each other.

 The last time I got a feeling like this, I was a young lad watching Samurai Jack in the early 00s. I would watch every week without fail on the Cartoon Network, engrossed for the entire runtime. And then, oh, the long and nagging wait. I can admit that having most stuff On Demand is impossibly handy for this particular moment in history, but goddamn do I remember having to wait a whole ass week for my favorite show to come back. Fans of Shingeki no Kyojin don’t realize how good they have it.

Replicating that feeling is almost impossible, not just because of how product is released now. Every story has been told before, in some way. Sometime in the last Millenia or so, our slimy lizard brains have come to expect certain beats and structure from stories. It makes the stories good, but also predictable. I can tell you as a writer, it’s so very difficult to find a way to surprise people in a genuine and engaging way.

This is going to sound more cold and callous than intended but, it does involve manipulating an audience to achieve your desired outcome. You want to lead them to the place you want to go and let them think it was their plan all along. This is the Art of Storytelling: I know what you want better than you do. This involves knowing your audience, and I think it’s safe to say after his “I want to hurt people with this,” comment that no writer on the planet right now knows his audience better than Isayama.

Fans of SNK should be happy. I’ve said this before: it isn’t the best book out right now (that’s still OPM, read that shit) but it is the most unpredictable. That doesn’t always make a story good, but in this case, it’s the greatest factor. Feel free to speculate and discuss. That’s what fandom is for. Just give up now on trying to work out what comes next. Only one person knows that. Isa has had this story plotted out for years with diversions here and there. We won’t know until it all ends. Enjoy this ride now. I can promise you we will never see anything like this manga ever again.

  Stray Thoughts

- Still no Kyomi. Still no Tiny Queen. I know the main character just got his head yeeted but let’s get some deets now, pls.

- I was so looking forward to the memes and am happy to report that I wasn’t let down. Well done, friends.

- The 104th Squad continues to persist, as does Yelena. We’ll earmark this for later.

- The fact that both the Jaeger Brothers got shot before Floch Forster is high dark comedy.

- In a battle this chaotic, things like skill and experience are often nullified. It makes perfect sense that Eren would be caught off-guard by a soldier he didn’t even know was there, child though she may be. Right place, wrong time. These Things Happen.

- Armin taking out the Cart’s turret gun was a slick little callback to when he bought time for Eren to take down Bertolt.

- I’m interested in Armin’s game plan here. Marley’s infantry is about to be overrun by Titans, so what else does he aim to do? And how will Yelena interfere?

- Nile said he wouldn’t see his family again. We all knew he was right but man, the look on his face when his number was called. That’s tough. Shout-outs to Pixis, getting one last sip in. You a real one.

#snk meta #shingeki no spoilers #snk 119 #eren jaeger #zeke jaeger #reiner braun #porco galliard #falco grice #colt grice #gabi braun #pieck #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirschstein #connie springer #floch forster #nile dok #dot pixis #theo magath #floch is in the bag #isa said 'i need the story to go until 2020' #gabi said 'i got you fam' #can't wait until next month #when i only have to tag two characters #wink wink

[ramblingguy54]

26, 29, 30, 36?

*cracks knuckles*Alright, let’s do this.

26: The late Robin Williams & Hayao Miyazaki are two particular people in my life I’ve idolized for what happiness/imagination they’ve brought into others lives. Robin Williams untimely passing still hurts for me to look back on because this man made it his mission to bring so much joy into other peoples lives through his acting on the big screen, whether it was dramatic or comedic. That’s what I found the most impressive about Robin’s range in acting. He could be an over the top funny individual, but Robin’s acting chops were in a league of their own. Whether he was behind the microphone having the time of his life as Genie on Aladdin or giving a powerful dramatic performance on Good Will Hunting as Will’s therapist, I could feel the unconditional kindness. There was something about Robin’s acting power that would usually manage to reel me in. Even if I never knew him in real life, obviously, this man just radiated with so much kindness that I felt from his entire presence on screen. It’s seriously unfortunate what became of Robin Williams in the end with his unexpected death, but his legacy has inspired me to be kinder to others in real life. As for Hayao Miyazaki, this guy is a huge factor in why I got into loving anime related stuff all the more, as his creations in storytelling and the art itself for the movies were beyond unlike anything I still have yet to seen be topped quite frankly. It’s so easy for me to get emotionally lost in his films like My Neighbor Totoro, Princess Mononoke, Castle In The Sky, and Spirited Away. This man never ceases to amaze me with how usually impactful and in depth his films are. They’re so full life that it’s easy to lose sight of whats happening in the actual story at times. Mayazaki understood how to breathe a ton of humanity into creating such resonating works of fiction. Have a much greater appreciation for them in my adult years. There’s a reason why they inspired companies, like Pixar, to create immersive stories of their own.

29: Favorite films range from Zootopia, Wreck It Ralph, M. Night Shyamalan’s Unbreakable, Aladdin (1992), The Secret Of NIMH, The Lion King (1994), The Incredibles, UP, Ratatouille, Wall-E, Finding Nemo, Inside Out, Kung Fu Panda 1 & 2, How To Train Your Dragon Trilogy, Toy Story 1-4, The Great Mouse Detective, Lilo & Stitch, The Emperors New Groove, A Goofy Movie, Good Will Hunting, The Fox And The Hound, The Land Before Time, The Brave Little Toaster, Frozen, Shrek 1 & 2, Coraline, Paranorman, Kubo And The Two Strings, The Muppets (2011), Princess Mononoke, Castle In The Sky, My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, Porco Rosso, Summer Wars, Beauty and the Beast (1991), Winnie The Pooh (1977 & 2011 iterations.), The Peanuts Movie, The Princess And The Frog, The Jungle Book (2016), Scooby Doo On Zombie Island, Harry Potters’ 1-7, Christopher Nolan’s Batman Trilogy, Wonder Woman, Sam Raimi’s Spiderman 1 & 2, The Black Panther, Thor & Thor Ragnorok, The Avengers, Avengers Infinity War & Endgame, Spiderman Into the Spiderverse, Captain America Trilogy, Iron Man Trilogy, Star Wars Episodes 4-8, and The Breakfast Club to stop this list from getting any longer. =P

30: Favorite TV shows range from Cowboy Bebop, Avatar The Last Airbender, Yu Yu Hakusho, Digimon Adventure 01 & Tamers, Teen Titans (2003), Batman The Animated Series, Ed, Edd,& Eddy, Samurai Jack, Courage The Cowardly Dog, The Powerpuff Girls (Screw that garbage reboot.), Chowder, Bojack Horseman, DuckTales (1987), DuckTales (2017), Gravity Falls, Code Geass (This series has shaky writing in a number of areas, but that ending was beautiful.), Amphibia, Steven Universe, Oban Star Racers, Made In Abyss, Stranger Things, Gargoyles, My Hero Academia, Naruto (I’ve got a soft spot for this series despite my MANY problems with its story later on.), Pokemon (Serious nostalgia overload!), Dragonball Z (My very first anime series I got into through the Toonami block. A real shocker I know. LOL!), Gurren Lagann, Kill la Kill, The Promised Neverland, Death Note, Chip N Dale Rescue Rangers, Sonic SatAM, Talespin, Darkwing Duck, The Grim Adventures Of Billy & Mandy, Robot Chicken, A Pup Named Scooby Doo, Kim Possible, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, and Fullmetal Alchemist (2003).

36: My three dream scenarios I’d like to fulfill? 

1: Become A Voice Actor

Been interested in voice acting since I was a young teen, but have been in a conflicted state over these recent passing years in my life on whether or not I’d like to approach that route. There’s a lot of commitment I’d have to put into auditioning my butt off for roles I may or not get. Then comes the consistent practicing to keep my vocal chords in shape, so I don’t get rusty whatsoever. The industry for this kind of job can be hard to get recognized in too by how many other notable well known VA’s there are already. Not to mention, from what I’ve researched up on being a voice actor doesn’t bring in the money naturally, as it’s more of a passion job which that’s terrific and all, but if I want to partake in this profession I’ll have to juggle a job along with that which putting all those factors in my head honestly makes me intimidated. Ahhh well, it’s just something I’ll have to wait and see on if I can make that idea into a reality or not. No need to rush myself, of course.

2: Taking Up The Mantle Of Reviewing Shows & Films For A Living

Fiction, just like for many people, has been a great deal of helping me in my life moments of stress, solitude, depression, and anger. I’d love nothing more than to further express that to anyone out there in reviewing in great detail certain films or shows that I’ve come to love over these years in my life so far. Mostly for animation though, as its been a gateway for finding many gems of quality films or series. It never ceases to surprise me on how creative and powerful animation can be with its inventive ways of getting me to become an emotional mess. While I do enjoy live action series and films they pale in comparison to the beauty animation has brought into my life, since my early childhood of watching shows on Cartoon Network, Toon Disney, and Nickelodeon to a smaller degree. I’d like to think I’m good enough with how I present my reasons on why I feel so strongly connected to these stories showcasing characters trying to find hope in their own hard times. I try my hardest to take moments of my own life and find ways to connect it with whatever story I’m getting into next, so it can be all the more a special experience for myself. It’s important to put whatever character resonates with you most in their shoes for why you feel their emotional journey connecting with your own life on every conceivable level possible. That will make it when you write these kinds of reviews a very empowering read for others to feel either heard in their own feelings or simply giving others a new perspective to consider on this piece of fiction you’re discussing. Seeing some of my own particular analytical posts in the past here on Tumblr garner some attention from people gives me a boost of feeling better about potentially making this choice.

3: Starting A Family Of My Own…?

I can’t begin to tell ya how many times I’ve gone back and forth for getting married in the distant future to become a father has sped through my mind. On one hand, it scares the crap out of me to be taking up that big of a responsibility. However, on the other hand its deeply fascinated me emotionally of creating life through love for your significant other in starting your own family tree. I’d love to be able to raise kids of my own to pass on the lessons I’ve learned in life to make them become better people in the distant future, while showering them with unconditional love and affection. That would fill me up with such an indescribable joyous feeling to hear their own dreams and desires on what they want to accomplish in life. While I’d be a strict parent, I wouldn’t be a hard headed one quick to dismiss their own complaints if they had problems with how I handled things, once they start to get older. The kind of parent I’d want to be is an understanding open minded one who doesn’t judge their son or daughter for when they have an issue with me. Just because I’m a parent in that scenario doesn’t put me on a pedestal of immunity from criticism. Granted, I certainly don’t want to be a doormat for them to try taking advantage of either, but it’s also important to not let your parental role go to your head, too.

Although, I don’t plan on even trying to make this last dream of mine happen anytime soon. This is something that is MUCH later down the road that I wish to have happen. However, I won’t lie and say that I haven’t considered just staying content as a single guy for the rest of my life relying on close friends to bring me joy equivalent to this dream. While I adore the concept of creating life through love and being a father, there’s a shit ton of responsibility that comes with it. The life of a parent is not just putting your all into it. You gotta give more than just 100% when wanting to be a parent. It’s a serious test of your spiritual endurance, which I’m not sure is something I’ll ever have the courage to do, but then again things can change in life on the flip of a dime, so I’ll see how this all plays out for myself. Maybe I’ll stay happily single or I’ll happily be raising kids.

Gee, I wonder why this dream of being a parent resurfaced in my head recently this year? Oh yeah, it was thanks to this character here.

Seriously, Della Duck holds a real special place in my heart for making me feel these kind of feelings yet again. Darn you space mom! LOL.

Thanks for the ask, man.

#asks and answers #ask away #ask the rambler

[the-energon-hole]

Hello there lovely! Could I request headcanons about tfp Smokescreen and Bumblebee taking their human s/o’s on a date to the drive in? Maybe they start a heavy make out session with Smokes and Bee using their holoforms? (Can be nsfw if you’re up for it) Thank you!! 😙

((A/N - So it’s been a crazy ass month for me so I haven’t updated since then. I apologize this is a little different from what you asked but I still think it’s cute, it was just hard for me to write with my anxiety beign all over the place and my job security up in the air, ya know?))

❗Long post, continued under “Read More” tag❗

Bumblebee

-He was a romantic at the core of his spark, and always felt so inspired whenever one of those cheesy romantic movies were showing on the TV in the background of the hustle and bustle of the Autobot base. The kids thought those movies were dumb, and they hated seeing scenes where humans were kissing in some super dim light setting, but when he saw those things he couldn’t help but let his processor lend itself to thoughts of both you and him in those silly situations. He thought of the two of you smooching passionately after a sad situation underneath the pouring rain while you wept happily once the two of you would part, he couldn’t help but let his spark get all fluttery whenever the image of your face popped up into his processor. He hasn’t told anyone about these feelings he is having though, considering how powerfully the kids react to those cheesy movies it wasn’t a real wonder why he would prefer to keep these things to himself, though he can’t help but wonder if he would even be able to pull anything like that off considering that he was about four hundred times your size and couldn’t be seen in public doing these kinds of things. It hit him after a few days of thinking about it- holoforms! He has tried once before to manifest one, but it was a form that was actually pretty hard to maintain… how does Arcee manage to do it so well? He would ask her, but he knows for a fact she would tease him about his fuzzy feelings towards you, and really he didn’t want to deal with all of that at the moment so he did what he always did in situations like this- practice in secret until he can get it right.

-Everyone noticed how sluggish and tired he was over the past few weeks, but his excuse was that he was a little restless at the current atmosphere of the war, to which Optimus gave him more time off from patrol to rest and everyone else kindly taking over his patrol shifts. He had more time to practice this way, and yeah he felt a little bad for inadvertently tricking everyone into doing his work for him, but once he was finally able to master the art of a walking and talking holoform- well it was almost like all of his guilt washed away in those noisy feelings of wanting to embrace you the way only another human can. It was unexplored territory for this to be happening, a human and a cybertronian being so into each other, and he tries really hard to accommodate you and your smaller size but he just can’t help but feel guilty that he can’t treat you the way he sees in the movies and from couples walking around the streets of Jasper. It was more than just those squishy feelings he gets inside whenever you were around him, it was more than the small ache he feels in his spark whenever you have to walk away from him and return to your human life outside of this chaotic war, and it was more than just his selfish need to show off to you that he really did value your companionship over everyone elses and that he wanted to just swaddle you away from all this conflict and strife and be with you forever. It was about you, it was about how no matter how hard he tried he will never be a human, it was about how no matter what he did or how he did it he would never be able to give you the life that you wanted… it broke his spark to know that one day he is going to have to leave potentially, if not that, you would grow old and frail and sick long before he even leaves his place as a young budding mech by Cybertronian terms. Maybe that was why he needed to do this- maybe, just maybe it was about giving you a semblance of normalcy that you needed so you can always have the loving memory of the two of you together just doing mundane human things. He wanted to experience them with you, and nothing was going to stop him from doing that- this war be damned!

-You were a little surprised when Bumblebee wanted to go see a movie at the drive in that was kind of a ways away from the city of Jasper, but you figured it was the only way he can see new movies without exposing himself as an alien robot to prying eyes, also the nearest drive in is home to a local teenage scene and some of them might recognize him as “Jack’s Other Cool Ride” or “Raf’s Mom’s Car”. Besides it could be fun to go on a long car ride with just Bee, you can both bump up your favorite music while the windows are rolled down so you can feel the passing crisp night air hot your face in a strange adrenalin pumping way- it was a win win for you despite having to travel a long distance mainly because on top of being able to see that new thriller movie you were interested in, you would be able to spend some one on one time with him without so many outside distractions beyond your control. It was fun to relax and unwind with Bee as you zipped down the freeway most likely breaking all kinds of speed limit laws- but there were no cops around to stop the two of you from having fun, besides Bee wasn’t just any old car, if he had to he can stop himself safely at almost any speed he was going because he didn’t have to worry about his breaks being worn away over time. Once the thrill of the drive was over and you paid to see the new movie at the drive up counter you took your place parking up close to the screen on an incline so you could see the entire screen from your close position- it was imperative to skt close because the last time you didnt a rude middle aged soccer mom.blocked your view with jer ugly SUV and her kids screamed so loud you could hear them from inside the confines of the cab. You were so caught up in the action scene of this movie that you all but missed the warm electric crackling in the air as you were equating it to just being so immersed in the amazing special effects, you nearly jumped out of your seat though when you felt an arm snake around your waist from the passenger’s seat next to you as you let out a cry that probably every other car in the lot could hear. You were about to flail around in a panic until you heard Bee’s crackling voice coming from the new figure that somehow managed to get into the autobot without you knowing- and it hit you like a ton of bricks that this strange looking boy was actually Bumblebee in his new holoform. The next shriek you gave was one of joy- you had no idea Bee was strong enough to create an actual tangible holoform! You’ve heard Arcee and Optimus talk about how difficult this kind of thing can be, you were so proud of him that you couldn’t help but lunge at this new form and leave a nice smooch on his cheek. He was taken aback by the action, but in a good way, as he couldn’t help the bright flush that invaded his face after you pulled away from.him to sit back in your seat.

Smokescreen

-He tries to be suave and smooth when he is around you, but it feels like anytime he says or does something super cool it gets counteracted by him doing something stupid. Once he gave you a compliment that he could actually see made you flush a little under his heated gaze, bit then he got toppled over by Bee running past him in a hurry to get somewhere- he fell right on his faceplate and he can still hear you laughing at him for looking a fool in that moment. There was also once were he was cuddling with you so see sweetly that he panicked and jumped high in the air as Ultra Magnus came rushing into the room to alert him of an upcoming mission, you laughed then to at his scared and stressed face which just made him feel the fool once again. He just wanted to be like those guys in those action movies you like to watch- the cool suave guys who wear tuxedos and drive cool cars, the guy who always gets the girl in the end no matter what dire situation they were in. Sure, you can argue that he already has you, but he has you in a way that is strange and alien with him being a, well, alien. This was all different and a new experience for everyone involved- it took a lot of communication and a lot of vulnerability to keep things going the way they were, which is a good thing don’t misunderstand him, he just sometimes wants to surprise you with something that makes your jaw drop and your eyes sparkle the way they did when you first found out he was a transforming robot. It was kind of hard to be smooth when you both discuss what it was that you were going to do next. Spontaneous courtship is what you can call what he seeks, but he knows he needs to do it on your level, and he has a plan that is crazy enough to work. The hard part? Keeping that plan a secret as you were able to read him like an open book so well sometimes that it was a little scary.

-Ok, maybe he was exaggerating when he said the hardest part about this whole thing was keeping it a secret- that was actually the easy part. The hard part was actually training himself to possess a holoform that reflected what he thought he would look like as a human. Was he making himself to handsome? Was he making himself to muscular? Would his hair color be dirty blonde or light brown? These possibilities were endless and that was what was causing him stress unlike anything he had ever felt before- and he has fought against the big bad Megatron himself! Optimus was the one that was able to quell his insecurities about the whole situation- reminding him that you would love him and be attracted to him no matter what form he took, because the outer body wasn’t who he was, his spark was who he was and that was the part that you fell in love with. He got all fuzzy after hearing Optimus Prime validate what it was that the two of you shared together but it mostly reminded him of why he wanted to do this for you in the first place. It doesn’t matter how suave he is and it doesn’t matter what he looks like- all that matters was that you were happy and that he can show you that through hard work on his end he can give you at least a little semblance of what a normal human relationship should be like. That’s all he really wants, to see your eyes glow bright and your smile to take up half of your face as he surprises you with something special that took him a long time to create. This wasn’t about him, this was about you and your happiness, and he was willing to go the distance proving just how much he really cares about you and needs you in his life.

-It was a wonderful and unexpected surprise to say the least as Smokescreen wasn’t normally the one to initiate an outing between the two of you, it was normally yourself that had to convince him to go somewhere fun and different. You would have never thought to pick a drive in theater, mainly because they were slowly going out of style and you had to travel to the next town over to go to one, but it was the best place to be considering it wouldn’t be strange for you to just sit in your car the whole time. It was easy enough to find a good spot and to get comfortable in Smokescreen’s cab, it helped to remember that it was a weeknight and most people had things they had to do the next day like school and work so the parking lot was relatively empty. It helped create an air of intimacy as you mentioned how nice the setting sun looked over the horizon of the empty black top behind the movie’s big screen, it painted the sky a beautiful purple and blue color as the time of twilight began to set in- you were so distracted that you almost didn’t hear the sound Smokescreen made to get your attention. He seemed nervous about something as he revealed to you that the reason he brought you here was to show you something he has been working on in secrete, you were no rocket scientist but you knew he was hiding something from you these past few weeks, you just hope that it’s something good and not detrimental to your psyche. You were awestruck as you watched the air in the passenger’s seat next to you begin to crackle and glow with some kind of electric phenomenon that made the atmosphere feel so warm and inviting. It only took about less than a minute for the noises to settle and for a figure to appear in the once empty seat, Smokescreen told you it was his holoform- and it was his way of wanting to give you a sense of normalcy in this relationship- you were overcome with emotion as you launched yourself to him as you felt a few tears slip out from your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck- he felt real, like a real human being. You loved him as he was as an Autobot and Cybertronian, but this, this felt so nice to just hold him like this. You two barely even registered the movie beginning in the background as the two of you just held each other and laughed- both of you feeling relieved and both of you basking in the presents of their loved one.

(08/29/18)

#Transformers Prime #Bumblebee #Smokescreen #Headcanon #Long Post

[brokenforecast]

The Magician

The Magician : a muggle guide to tarot

     - Through the dark of futures past, the magician longs to see. One chants out between two worlds … Fire Walk with Me.                David Lynch’s Twin Peaks

I realize it’s hard to convince you of my view that tarot doesn’t have anything to do with magic per se, when the title of the card we are discussing is ‘the magician’. But it is perhaps the most worldly, practical, unmagical card in the entire deck, so bear with me. Today we’ll be talking philosophy and raw action. The magician caries the numbered one. So take out your magician card, or your favorite magician card if you have more than one. The magician is a card for which I feel a profound affection; I identify deeply with it (along with two others: the chariot and the king of swords). You could almost say that in this early stage of the tarot’s journey I have halted and stopped at the first step and there is some truth in that. 

Symbolism

We see a figure with one arm pointing upwards, sometimes holding a staff or a wand and one pointing downwards. This represents the ancient phrase “as above, so below”. The idea of a macrocosm and a corresponding microcosm is an old one. We know the ancient Greeks philosophized a lot about this and the idea has spread across big parts of the world ever since. Plato believed in the existence of a perfect world of ideas, next to our world of imperfection. Christianity believes in a temporary existence here on earth and an eternal existence close to god. 

On a more mundane scale we can see the outer world of everyday life and our inner world of hopes, dreams, ideas and fantasies. And in each one there is something that bridges these two. I have always found it intriguing that moons revolve around planets and planets around suns in a colossal void, very much like electrons revolve around the nucleus of an atom, also mostly in void. In short, it symbolizes that the stuff that makes up the universe can be found inside ourselves.  Between the above and the below is the magician, us, at the center of all this. It is a profoundly anthropocentric card; we are, each one of us, the god of our own universe. 

Did I just call you a god? Yes, I did. 

In front of the magician is an altar with four objects: a sword, a wand, a cup and a pentacle (or coin). These four objects represent the four elements, the stuff the universe is made of, in a symbolic way. The altar and the four objects represent everything, the world (the macrocosm) but right in front of us, small and tangible, symbolized (the microcosm). They are there for the taking. In certain decks the magician is called the juggler, the capable artist that keeps all four elements in the air at the same time. The altar is a miniature world under the control of the magician. 

Another crucial symbol is the infinity symbol above the head of the magician, symbolizing the unity of male and female principles. In my post-gender worldview, I don’t like male and female stereotyping, but the tarot is rife with it, luckily in a very nuanced manner. Tarot isn’t inherently patriarchal if that’s what you are wondering. The magician, like the fool, is an androgynous figure, uniting male and female principles. To be an able person, one does indeed need a mix of both, lest we are hollow, ridiculous clichés. The infinity symbol lives on in the character “&” often used on marriage invitations when a couple puts an ampersand between their names, indeed a union of two.

Is there no end to this symbolism? Jesus. We’re almost there; I know it’s a lot; it’s not an easy card concerning its symbolism but I’ll make it up to you later, because its meaning is real simple, I promise. In the Renaissance Tarot we recognize the symbols we talked about (the up and down arms, the altar with the four elements is a plinth here, and we see the infinity symbol). The figure is very androgynous, one leg is straight and muscular, one is almost that of an elegant ballerina. There is a hint of breasts and that hair is long and yet short. 

Some extra symbols are added like the two caduceui (still used by pharmacists as their symbol) but also by the alchemists of old. The two intertwined snakes represent – can you guess it? – the intertwined male and female energies. Between the snake heads is the symbol of the planet Mercury, a blend of (surprise) the male and female symbol. The wings on the arm and feet (like the ancient god Mercury) refer to his ability to ascend and descend in the world above and below.  I’ll shut up about the magician’s belt which represents the ouroboros, you can google that one if you’re really into the ouroboros. I am seriously done with its fucking endless symbolism. 

In the wild unknown card we recognize a few things: the four elements and the infinity symbol but the magician has been replaced by a wildcat. Which brings us seamlessly to its meaning (finally). A lot of cards in tarot are about contemplation but this one is all about action. A wildcat runs and runs fast, it runs gracefully, it is made for running. This card says only one thing: go! 

Upright meaning 

     - Knowing is not enough; We must apply. Willing is not enough; We must do.                Goethe

Just as the magician manipulates the four objects on the altar in front of him (remember, representing the microcosm), so can we manipulate the world around us. The magician is able, he knows his shit, he doesn’t sit idly by, he acts and transforms A into B, he makes changes as he sees fit, he shapes the world around him to his liking. He is whole, male and female combined, confident in his abilities. 

If this card represents a situation it tells us to believe in ourselves and act. Do it! Go for it! Stop doubting, stop thinking and just fucking do it already. 

If it refers to a person, it is someone confident, someone with abilities that bring about change in the real world in any possible way. Someone who knows his trade always seems like a wizard to an uneducated outsider. The things my IT-guy does to my computer look like magic to me; how my pharmacist prepares medicine that heals me looks like magic, how poets juggle and play with words, is magical to me. 

The magician is always someone who believes in themselves and has real skill and influence, not some cog in a machine but maybe an independent employee or anyone with a specific skill set. Or simply someone who works a little practical magic for you. See what I did there?  If you know yourself well, it helps to know the world; if you can change, so can the world. In contrast with the fool, the magician knows really well what he wants, he has a plan and he’s already working on it. The magician is deeply androgynous, he knows when to use his male and when her female side to best reach the goal. 

> The Magician by Stephanie Davidson

Reversed meaning

When reversed it can mean one of three things:

1. Exactly the opposite: inactivity. Someone is sitting on their lazy ass. Maybe thinking, dreaming, fantasizing or calculating risks, weighing options, whatever it is, now is not the time! Just get up and start working. Yes work, you will get tired. Stop talking, stop complaining. Work.

2. Something blocks you: you lack the confidence of the magician, you don’t believe in your own abilities. Maybe you compare yourself to people who do it better. But honestly with seven billion people out there, someone is bound to be better at no matter what you do. Maybe you believe you are worth jack shit. In any case: you are wrong. You are able. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

3. Taken too far: the magician holds the meaning of the charlatan, the imposter, the foul smell that drips from the word manipulating. This is someone who abuses his abilities in a way too selfish and harmful to others. He is a deceiver and quite good at it as well. 

The path of the magician

When you meditate on the magician, or if the magician represents you in a spread, it asks us to act. It is Yoda telling us to do or do not because there really is no try. It is Galadriel telling Frodo that this task was appointed to him and that if he does not find a way, no one will. 

It is Obama yelling at us ‘yes we can’ or Karl Marx telling us that the point is not to think about society, the point is to change it. Few cards are so straightforward. Just like last time, a little meditation exercise to let you grow, to step by step define who you are. Note down three skills that you possess that influence the outside world, grand or modest, doesn’t matter. They don’t have to be unique or super-snowflake-special. Skill is skill. Three things you are good at.

Next jot down three things you want to learn in the future. Like, before you die, preferably. 

Again, I’ll be open and honest; not out of some misguided exhibitionism but because as your guide I want to give the example. 

1. I am a decent enough librarian. I help my readers find the information they need, I teach them a skill set so they can find It themselves and analyze it’s worth in a critical way. I run a smooth library. 

2. I am verbally strong if I want to. I can communicate, inspire, analyze and I have a certain way with words. I write and guide roleplaying games as storyteller, which brings joy and excitement to people. I also use this for evil purposes. I have been known to bend truths.

3. Strategy, long-term planning, making plan B, C and D (and in secret E, F and G). Destroying resistance, guiding the process, improving along the way, optimizing, motivating and cheering at the end. 

Three things I want to learn before I die: to dance, speak German fluently, and sew clothes. 

TLDR: Upright meaning: confidence, action, skill Reversed meaning: passivity, lack of confidence, manipulation

Hollander, P. Scott, Tarot voor beginners, ‘s-Gravenhage, 2004. P30-33. Lyle, Jane, The Secret Tarot, New York, 1998. P16-19. Krans, Kim, The Wild Unknown Tarot Guidebook, New York, 2016. P159-160.

#a muggle guide to tarot #tarot #the magician #tarot readings #003 #magician #major arcana #magician reversed #004

[felicityqueene]

today our story starts anew

title from ‘a happy beginning’ from the ouat musical episode. all credit goes to the cw and the dc comics inc and all inspiration goes to emily bett rickards and jack moore for their scene in the base in 6x11 because that gave me new life and dedication to the show.

and also @love-with-you-i-have-everything, to whom this is gifted on the occasion of her (belated) birthday. much love, dear!

on ao3 here.

It was a bit of an unusual day in the life of the Queen-Smoak-Clayton family.

Firstly, William had been late to school, something completely weird since William actually liked school and had only been successfully late to school once before. He had overslept since Felicity’s sensibility had overridden Oliver’s sense and she had declared last night a video game extravaganza.

Secondly, Oliver had burned one of the pancakes, which was odd since Oliver never burned the food unless he was completely distracted. This time it could be attributed to William scorching the eggs and setting off the fire alarm, which was almost normal but rarely coincided with the pancakes.

Thirdly, Felicity Smoak was at home alone. That was unusual enough; she was normally at work at 2 PM. Most working people were, including her husband. William was still at school, since he had after-care until 4. Felicity, however, had thrown up in the base’s bathroom not too long after arriving and chosen to send herself to the closest Walgreens. Once she had arrived at home, she resigned herself to staying on the floor of her bathroom until Oliver got home.

Felicity considered standing up for a moment and trying to pull her life back together, but her stomach revolted again. She hadn’t even eaten anything since one of the not-burned pancakes, she mused as she wiped her mouth. She leaned back against the bathtub.

So… what to tell Oliver? Or William? Oh god, William, he was going to freak out. They’d have to use that full cliché speech about how he wasn’t being replaced and what if he didn’t believe it—Oliver. Oliver was going to freak out for sure. They hadn’t even talked about this. Somehow, in their two separate relationships and discovery of William and now marriage, they hadn’t discussed the problem that was currently displayed on a plastic stick on the sink.

She didn’t even know how she felt about the whole thing yet. She was… sprawled across the bathroom floor with Walgreens bag next to her. That was a pretty good indication of her current peace of mind or lack thereof. Her brain was kind of spinning.

Felicity tried to sit up when she heard Oliver’s footsteps coming through the apartment. “Felicity?” he called. It wasn’t too panicked, so she’d probably be okay for a bit.

“In here,” she called, her voice slightly raspy from not having actually spoken out loud in something like two hours.

She wasn’t quite sitting up when Oliver stepped inside the bathroom. To his credit, he didn’t start yelling or anything. “Are you okay?” he asked with a bit of panic as he helped her sit up. “I got your text in the middle of a meeting and couldn’t reply. And before you ask, yes, I did worry.”

Felicity sighed. “I’m fine, I told you. The text was quite clear, I thought.” Then Oliver was reaching for a washcloth, and then he stood up to wet it in the sink. Felicity reached out toward the countertop, trying to somehow stop it, stop the inevitable, but there was nothing to be done. It was like those slow-motion scenes action movies were so fond of, and just like in the movies, it didn’t work.

Oliver’s eyes widened comically and he glanced down at her before slowly reaching for the little plastic stick. Felicity watched his eyes go back and forth across the lines—the extra pink line, in particular—as she stood up and felt the world spin around her for a moment. Before the world cleared, Oliver had his arm around her, steadying her.

“You’re pregnant?” he whispered, finally.

Felicity didn’t really know what to say, which was really a first in the life of Felicity Smoak-Queen. “Yes.” She felt that required a little more explanation. “I haven’t felt normal for a few weeks and I finally noticed that I was late this morning and then I threw up in the base and so I figured it out and went to get that and I’ve been sitting here since because I didn’t know what—”

And then she was pulled into a hug. Oliver buried his face in her neck and she could feel his grin against her skin. He pulled away almost as abruptly. “You’re really pregnant?” His eyes were shining, both with the force of his smile and the tears that were puddling in his eyes. And that was all she needed for that flash of joy she’d been waiting for.

She grinned up at him, wrapped her arms around his back. “Yeah, Oliver. Afraid so.” And before she could stop him, he kissed her. Then she forgot about all the problems she was considering and pulled him even closer.

He walked them over to their bed, not breaking the kiss, and she found herself down on her back with Oliver bracing himself above her. For once she was wearing a shirt and pants combo, so it wasn’t hard for him to push her shirt up and he leaned down and kissed her stomach gently.

Oliver smiled and crawled up the bed to lie down next to her. “How do you feel about it?” he asked, tucking an arm under his head and stroking her fingers with his other hand.

“Somehow, we’ve managed to not talk about all of this,” Felicity began, turning to face him. “I mean, we have William, but we didn’t talk about it before or since he appeared. And I haven’t really considered the whole kid thing in a while, like not since I was in college, and we’ve got the Green Arrow stuff and the team and everything with—” Then she recited her whole freak-out from before Oliver got home.

By the time she was done, Oliver was kissing her fingers. He looked up at her, blue eyes all serious and loving. “In a few days, I’m going to think about all of that and I will freak out. I’ll probably get ridiculously protective and I might wall up for a bit.”

“Obviously,” Felicity said. He wouldn’t be Oliver Queen if all of that didn’t happen. “There is a ‘but’, though, right? That would be useful. Seeing as if you keep on like that for another, what, eight months, I’ll be forced to arrow you.”

“But…” His voice went quiet and, dare she think, awed. “…we’re having a baby. That’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard.” He grinned again, and she couldn’t help but smile back. It was so contagious, his joy and his smile. “You make me the happiest man on earth, Felicity Smoak.”

And that was too sweet; she didn’t stop herself from kissing him. He was beautiful when he was happy.

--

Two weeks later, Oliver’s prediction—and her complete belief in the matter—had come true. They were still happy, of course; nothing was going to stop that. And the fact that Oliver’s eyes had managed to become shining hearts whenever he looked at her or William, and he kissed her stomach every morning and night.

Then they’d gone to the doctor. The sound of the heartbeat filled the room, and Oliver’s eyes shone. They stared at the infuriatingly blurry picture of their kid. “It looks like a peanut,” Felicity said, trying not to go all gooey at the fact that there was a peanut growing in her stomach.

“It looks like you’re about seven weeks along,” the nurse gushed. “Everything looks good!” Then she said a lot more technical stuff that neither of them listened to because they were staring at the peanut and Felicity’s best friend was the internet.

They got home. They were ridiculously, completely, deliriously happy. That lasted two and a half days. Then the overprotectiveness began.

Oliver first tried to prevent her from going down to the base. She acquiesced at first, since the panic in Oliver’s eyes was a little bit contagious and she was still working on nausea treatment. Then she got restless and, when the Villain of the Week eluded Oliver and John for the fourth day in a row since they couldn’t figure out her technology, she earned her re-admittance to the Arrow cave.

John stared at her for a few minutes down in the lair as she settled back into her wonderful chair. Oliver was standing pretty close by, within reach but not so close that they were running into each other, a la two days ago. Felicity was watching the screens, going back and forth between the searches and John Diggle’s face.

Finally, John understood, a grin slowly forming on his face. “You’re pregnant!” he had almost shouted. After the obligatory “how did you find out?” and “why didn’t you tell me?” and threatening from Oliver and hugs and handshakes all around, they sat down to have a proper chat while waiting for the search to finish. “How long?” Digg asked.

“About two months,” Felicity answered. “The nurse was scary enough that I didn’t want to tell anyone for a while.”

“They’ll do that,” John grinned, remembering the same stage with JJ. Although, with JJ, John had taken even longer to tell them, Felicity reflected. One point for Olicity, then. He then clapped Oliver on the back. “How are you holding up?”

Oliver flinched and made a noncommittal noise, showing both best friend and wife exactly how well he wasn’t handling the whole thing at the moment. “He was fine at first, more than fine, great, actually, but over the past four days he’s become a protective monster of a baby daddy,” Felicity explained fondly.

John looked at Oliver almost as fondly. “He would do that, wouldn’t he.”

“He couldn’t help it,” Felicity cooed, forgetting yesterday when she’d yelled at him for not letting her handle the toaster. It was a toaster. It would not attack anyone. The fact that she regularly burned herself with it was entirely besides the point.

Oliver then stalked away, ripping his shirt off along the way, heading for the salmon ladder. After the initial and very brief surprise of his abrupt stripping, Felicity and Diggle had returned to the computers, talking about the plans for Baby Queen around the clangs of Oliver’s stress.

It was expected, at least, Felicity mused as she found Bad Guy of the Week and sent her boys out to capture him. And—she remembered the way his back muscles had rippled earlier as he ascended and descended the salmon ladder over and over—the stripping was welcome, anyway. “Honestly, everyone’s taking the idea of your existence really well,” she whispered to her stomach.

She wondered if it was a boy or girl, all of a sudden. And if it would be better at computers or salmon ladders. Then she realized she was talking to her stomach. Which would have been okay if the baby could hear her, but since it was the size of a grape, it wasn’t even close to auditory skills. Not much point yet. She shook her head and directed John down the next road, letting the chase regain her attention.

--

“We have to tell William,” Felicity murmured a week later as they were taking a rare ten minutes to watch an adventure story that wasn’t actually their life. “He’s going to find out eventually, he’s so smart, and I just don’t think it’ll be good for him to figure it out on his own.”

“True,” Oliver murmured back. He’d taken to lying across her lap and cuddling as closely as possible whenever they sat down for more than five minutes, and he was almost asleep as a result. “I wouldn’t have figured out at his age, though…” He zoned out as Hawkeye shot another alien and Felicity tried to think of a way to say “You’re my husband and I love you but your son is way smarter than you” without offending him. “But he is way smarter than me, so he probably will,” Oliver finished the sentence, much to her relief.

Felicity ran her fingers through his hair and added haircuts all around to her checklist. William’s was almost in his eyes, and Oliver’s was going to be really close to attack-paparazzi Oliver in a week or two. That wasn’t a look any of them were actually interested in.

“Are you pregnant?” William’s voice came from behind. Oliver jumped, returning to a sitting position without Felicity seeing him move. She turned around to face the boy, her heart trying to keep up with the adrenaline and racing brain. “Sorry to interrupt. I just thought I heard…” He took one step backwards, trying to escape to his room.

Oliver glanced down at her and called his son back. “We should explain—”

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” Felicity blurted out. Thankfully, William stepped over to the couch so she didn’t have to crane her neck too awkwardly.

Then all three of them stared. Despite the progress made over the months of Three Queens, they hadn’t gotten really good at the family talks yet. Although—did anyone really get good at those? They were hard and awkward and annoying. “How long?” William asked.

“Two months and a week and a half, about. We’ve known for about two weeks,” Felicity quickly said. The kid probably wanted information quickly to make up for what he didn’t know, right? She could basically see the thoughts racing through William’s head.

Then just as quickly as the surprise had formed on William’s face, a smile broke across it. “That’s really cool,” he said. “Is it a boy or girl?”

“It’s like two or three months until that appointment,” Felicity said, watching as William’s face finally walled over. Her heart sank at the rapid (and basically expected) progression of William’s emotions. “But you’ll be the first to know!” At least now she would be able to say she tried to save the situation.

“That’ll probably be the ultrasound technician, really,” William said, that hint of whimsy she so loved in his voice. Maybe this wouldn’t be completely awful. Then she watched all her hopes dash away on some kind of magic flying creature as William gave another celebratory grin, stepped back into the door frame, and just about ran away.

“William?” Oliver called. He tried to get up but Felicity pressed lightly down on his chest and shook her head. Oliver searched her eyes for a moment and read the let him go she was projecting. “What do we do?” he whispered.

“I don’t know, but for now he needs to be alone. He just found out he’s getting a baby sibling and he’s almost a teenager and he’s William Clayton Queen and there’s only so much more attention he can stand because you know how almost everyone at school treats him anyway and now look at this, he'll be close to the center of attention again, and—” Felicity felt her brain switch back onto the crazy track but it was quickly derailed by Oliver gently grabbing her chin and pulling her head up to look at him.

“He’ll be okay, Felicity. Like you said. It’ll be okay.”

--

“William?” Felicity heard Oliver calling just as she started smelling the pancakes. She took a moment to consider getting out of bed, and thankfully, Queen Child No. 2 liked the pancakes and didn’t immediately cause nausea. So she got out of bed and wandered toward the pancakes and husband and son.

Oliver’s hair was wild when she found him in the kitchen. “He’s not in his room, Felicity. I don’t know where he is. There’s a pile of blankets in his bed and—”

William was missing. Felicity felt the room basically flip upside down and found herself in Oliver’s arms a moment later. “I’m good, I’m good, I'm fine." She batted the wild-eyed Oliver away and stepped toward her tablet. “I’ll check the—”

Oliver was yanking on a hoodie and tennis shoes before she could finish her sentence. “I’m going now, I texted Digg and he’s going to the base to check the traffic cameras. I’m going to go—somewhere.” And Oliver kissed her on the forehead and exited the apartment.

“He couldn’t even wait for me to check the security footage,” Felicity grumbled, fingers flying on the screen. Her heart was about to beat itself out of her chest—the memories of Adrian Chase were never pleasant and they were returning in full-force—but the cameras in the apartment and building finally cooperated. “Your dad’s great, kid, but he’s an idiot sometimes when it comes to the people he loves,” she muttered. “So dramatic.”

As she yanked her own shoes and robe on, she watched William step out of the apartment and wander out of the building at 5:14 AM. It was a miracle Oliver hadn’t heard the door, honestly. He then meandered down the street, clutching his blue blanket around himself like a cloak. She locked the apartment door as she kept watching the footage, switching from camera to camera along the streets. She followed William’s path as quickly as she could, her heart rate slowing down when she figured out his destination.

“Hey, kid,” Felicity said as she sat down on the swing next to William.

William kept staring at the rest of the playground equipment. “Hi Felicity,” he replied quietly. “How did you find me before Dad?”

“You did a good job being unpredictable, where you walked and where you were going. And your dad didn’t wait for me to bring the cameras up before he and John ran out looking.”

William chuckled soundlessly. “Just like him,” he murmured.

They sat in silence for a minute, Felicity dragging her shoes on the pine chips. Her mind was racing and trying to figure out anything to say that wouldn’t sound completely cliché. It was going to sound cliché whatever happened, honestly.

Thankfully, William started first. “I’m not upset about the baby,” he said, looking up at her with those eyes so like Oliver’s. “I just… I don’t know.”

Felicity tried for humor to fill the silence. “That’s something, at least, that you don’t hate your sibling.”

“I know you’re not replacing me or anything.” William ignored the humor, as well he should. “I wasn’t expecting it at all, though. Should have expected it, you and Dad are married and love each other and you’ve got everything except—”

“If you say that we’ve got everything except a kid…” William glanced back up at her, his eyes looking wounded. Oh, frick. That was what he was thinking. Felicity jumped off of the swing and knelt down in front of William as well as she could without him absolutely towering over her. “We have a kid, William. You.”

“Yeah, but I’m not yours. Not like the baby will be.”

Felicity’s heart pretty much broke. Completely in half. “I know I’m not your biological mother, Will. I’m not trying to be, I’ll never try to replace your mother, I could never do that. I know too much about losing a parent to ever try that. But I’ve never thought of you as anything less than my son.”

William’s eyes were now shining. She reached up and grabbed his hand, partially for the physical contact and partially for stability. Thankfully, he held on as tightly as she was. “Even when your dad and I were just talking about getting back together, or when we were dating for those weeks before we got married, I’ve sort of thought of you as my kid too. You’ve always been enough for me and your dad. Remember when you found out your dad was still running around in green?”

“I said I wasn’t as worried about losing him, since I had you. After you let me watch him arrow people.”

Felicity managed a smile. That was not one of her better moments. Then she returned to the important topic. “You’ve always had me, William. Whether it was for math tutoring or taking care of you if your dad doesn’t make it home one night.” William just stared for a moment. Felicity scanned his face and decided it was time for the best truth of the morning. “Your dad and I, we love you more than anything. You’re the best kid I’ve ever met, and, if you’re willing, you’re going to be the best big brother in the world. Which is how we should have told you, incidentally, instead of you being too smart for your own good.”

They stared at each other for another minute, Felicity watching everything process in William’s eyes. Finally, William nodded. Felicity stood up, her quads blessing the movement, and William jumped out of the swing into her arms. They stood there in the playground, just the two of them, and Felicity hugged her son.

“Thanks, Felicity,” William whispered. “Love you.”

Felicity felt her eyes fill up. “I love you too, William.”

And that was how Oliver found them, a few minutes later. Felicity heard his footsteps coming closer, but she couldn’t do anything more than turn her head to face him. As he got closer, Felicity could see the alarm in his eyes slowly fade away and, by the time he wrapped his arms around them and rested his forehead on William’s head, Oliver was smiling.

“Love you, Dad,” William murmured.

“Love you too, William,” Oliver answered.

They would be okay, Felicity thought as they turned back toward the apartment and breakfast. William would be okay, even if he was late for school again.

--

“What’s his name?” William asked, cradling his baby brother. Felicity had been taking pictures of them for half an hour. It was just too precious.

The baby had been born three hours ago. Oliver and Felicity had kept one hour of it to themselves, just staring at their kid and figuring out the name. After that blessed hour, William and Digg and Lyla had swarmed them, all three wanting to hold the littlest Queen. Naturally and without much argument from the adults, William had won the hold-the-baby battle. Oliver had shifted his littler son into his firstborn’s arms and gotten into the bed with Felicity.

Oliver glanced at Felicity, giving her the reins. Felicity smiled as Oliver pulled her a little closer and kissed the side of her head. “Jonathan Thomas Queen,” she told him. “Thomas for Tommy, of course. Jonathan…”

“Oliver Jonas Queen,” John said thoughtfully. “Kinda similar.”

Felicity nodded toward Digg and immediately regretted movement. The very nice drugs were officially wearing off. “That was my thought, yeah. Kind of clever, right? But also… Jonathan and David, in the Bible.”

“Brothers,” Oliver summed it up, looking at William with the softest gaze Felicity had ever seen in his blue eyes. She loved him all the more for that look. “Even with all of their problems, they still had each other. So we named him Jonathan for you, William. You and him.”

William smiled and looked back down at the baby. “Jonathan, huh,” he murmured. “He’s pretty great.”

Felicity looked around at the room. Oliver, sitting next to her with all of the love in the world in his eyes. John and Lyla, arms around each other and persevering despite the odds. William, their first child, looking down at his little brother with awe. Jonathan, blue eyes staring up at his big brother sleepily but his little hands wriggling with contentment. All of the happiness surrounding her was completely unexpected, but it was beautiful.

“Yeah, he is,” she agreed. “And he has the best family in the world.”

#arrow ff #olicity ff #my ff #william clayton #olicity #arrow

[aion-rsa]

The Coolest, Most Collectible Skybox Marvel Cards

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We can’t clarify this enough: When the age of Marvel Comics superheroes began in the 1960s, everything changed. Characters like the members of the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, the X-Men, and on and on felt more grounded in reality than their comic book peers, and readers immediately took notice.

These were relatable figures who balanced real world problems like wanting to fit in with the pressures that come with protecting New York City (then later, the universe) from all manner of unbelievable threats. Due to the unprecedented success of Marvel Comics, the publisher’s stable of heroes quickly became a merchandising juggernaut. Everything from toys to coloring books competed for the attention of burgeoning Marvelmaniacs, and it’s no surprise that trading cards were quickly thrown into the mix.

Since the early ‘60s, there have been numerous lines of Marvel-inspired trading cards that have showcased the sillier side of these heroes (Topps’ fondly remembered 1976 line of Marvel Super Heroes Stickers) to cards celebrating the company’s storied history (Fantasy Trade Card Company’s Marvel Superheroes First Issue Cover set). As fun as these memorable sets were, they can’t begin to hold a candle to the work that Skybox was doing in the 1990s. Bursting onto the scene in 1992 , the company’s various licensed Marvel card sets showcased a mix of well-known and rising characters from Marvel. That they did so by directly tapping into the zeitgeist while pushing the limits of trading card technology is a bit of magic that even Doctor Strange would be impressed by.

During the ‘90s, Marvel was (Silver?) surfing on a wave of massive success, buoyed by the popularity of Fox’s X-Men and Spider-Man cartoons, era-defining — for better or worse — creatives like Rob Liefeld and Todd McFarlane, and seemingly countless videogames and action figures showcasing these comic book greats.

The bottom line? There was an unquenchable desire to collect anything and every Marvel-related, and Skybox entered the marketplace at exactly the right time. Printed on heavy duty card stock, these cards felt substantial in the hands of eager collectors. Chase cards like “holofoil” and “dyna-etching” variants further made the Skybox lines feel like must haves – and so they became a form of de-facto status symbol for collectors. Simply put, if you had these things you had credibility during a time when so-called nerdery was beginning its ascension towards pop culture dominance. Indeed, the Skybox cards gave comics-related collectibles real legitimacy in the eyes of those who previously dismissed such a thing.

From the glory years of 1992 to 1996, Skybox was the best-loved name in the non-sport trading card game. Their legacy can still be seen in cards today, with companies like Topps and Upper Deck still putting out cards who share basic DNA with Skybox’s inventive lines.

Unsurprisingly, Skybox collecting is experiencing something of a resurgence thanks to the one-two punch of 1990s nostalgia and the enduring success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Because you want in on this collecting action, we’ve put together the following guide to some of the coolest, most collectible Skybox Marvel releases. A universe of fun awaits you, quite literally.

1992 Marvel Masterpieces Unopened Box

Price: $300 – $700

The joys and perils of modern trading card collecting can be directly traced back to the 1992 Marvel Masterpieces line. With stunning paintings from Joe Jusko on the front and detailed information about significant Marvel moments and characters on the back of each card, Skybox hit a nerve with this 100-card game changer. Suddenly, fans who hadn’t picked up cards since their elementary schoolyard days of trading baseball or Star Wars cards were back in the game, racing to get each and every entry in the line.

As Impel, Skybox had warmed up fans for the previous two yeasr with their Marvel card sets. But with a name change and a further commitment to artistry they started a trading card revolution by fully realizing their vision. To own a box of these isn’t merely to indulge in one’s nostalgia, it is to possess an important part of pop culture history.

Buy the 1992 Marvel Masterpieces Unopened Box here

Skybox Marvel Empty Display Boxes

Price: $14.99 – $49.99

With the cards being the main attraction, you’d be forgiven if you took for granted the artistry of the boxes that the various Skybox card lines came packaged in. Since these were designed to grab the consumers’ eye, they are emblazoned with compelling action in what Stan Lee himself would refer to as “the Mighty Marvel method.” Keeping your cards in Mylar sleeves in binders is definitely the smartest way to ensure that your collectibles remain safe, yet might we suggest you start collecting the originally boxes that housed them too? If nothing else, it will give you bragging rights about your dedication to the Skybox era.

Buy Skybox Marvel Empty Display Boxes here

Spider-Man vs Venom Hologram Card

Price: $29.99 – $59.99

It’s difficult to fully articulate how popular Venom was in the early 1990s. Alternately a villain and a terrifying anti-hero, the character’s stunning design roped in lapsed fans and newbies alike thanks to the best set of pop culture jaws since Steven Spielberg terrified moviegoers back in 1975. Consequently, Spider-Man and Venom became comicdom’s most compelling, forgive us, symbiotic relationship, with this snazzy hologram card from Skybox’s 1993 Marvel Universe Series IV line being a memorable souvenir of this crucial time in both characters’ history.

Buy the Spider-Man vs. Venom Hologram Card here

Wolverine Hologram Card

Price: $30 – $45

While discussing hologram variants (which are a fascinating collecting subset in their own right), we would be remiss if we didn’t mention everyone’s favorite cigar-chomping mutant, Wolverine. Thanks to the technology used to create the card – one that we don’t fully understand but absolutely appreciate – it appears as if Wolverine has just clawed his way through a steel wall. When the light hits the card in just the right way it appears as if the adamantium-laced icon is reaching towards you, an incredibly cool effect that is priceless in terms of wow value. To be clear, all the cards included in Skybox’s second series of X-Men cards are memorable. This one though? It’s to be treasured.

Buy the Wolverine Hologram Card here

Marvel Skybox Card Lots

Price: $1-$50

As far as we are concerned, casual collectors of anything are as hard to find as Bigfoot and/or D.B. Cooper. Intellectually though, we know they exist. Thus if you consider yourself among their number and want to dip you toes into the Skybox collecting waters we feel compelled to tell you that you can do so by checking out any of the eBay auction listings for Skybox card lots. Often times these are just a grouping of common cards, but with some perseverance you can find auctions for lots that include rare variants. Due to the care with which these cards were produced, there really isn’t a downside here. Just know that we are not responsible if they become a gateway drug to getting you fully hooked on Marvel cards.

Buy Marvel Skybox Card Lots here

Spider-Man 1992 Marvel Masterpieces Promo Card

Price: $10-40

You have to remember that in 1992, the Internet was not the all-encompassing behemoth that it is today. Nor was nerd culture. Back then, word of mouth was crucial to promote any fandom-related product. Enter promo cards. Either distributed in magazines, at trade shows, or in comic shops, these helped notify target audiences that something new and cool was on the way. Because these were trading cards in and of themselves, they were collectibles in their own right – existing outside of the line they were trying to promote while being directly related to its success or failure.

The back of this specific promo card (which, it should be noted, was something of an innovation itself), promised that “this new, super premium line from Skybox takes the Marvel Universe to another dimension.” On the flip side was a dynamic Jusko painting of Spidey, then the biggest character in Marvel’s lineup. Fans took notice. Sales were made. As a result, trading cards were never the same.

Buy the Spider-Man 1992 Marvel Masterpieces Promo Card here

Wolverine vs. Sabertooth 3-D Foil Card

Price: $39.99 – $120.00

Spider-Man vs. The Green Goblin. The Fantastic Four vs. Galactus. Jack Kirby vs. Stan Lee. The Marvel Universe is full of iconic battles. Naturally, the most compelling battles in Marvel history were replicated in the Skybox lines – as you can see in this offering from the 1992 Marvel Masterpieces line that has Wolverine engaging Sabertooth in combat on a card that used art, foil embossing and printing enhancement to bring the action to life in a way that was anything but static and boring.

Buy the Wolverine vs. Sabertooth 3-D Foil Card Here

X-Men Series II Complete Base Set

Price: $40 – $60

An enduring fan favorite from Skybox, 1993’s X-Men Series II furthered cemented the mutant team’s popularity following the premiere of their Fox cartoon a year earlier and some high-profile comic book releases of the era. Over the course of 100 cards, the most notable mutants of the Marvel Universe were showcased in the line. What truly took this specific series to the next level was its pitch perfect combination of character choices and interlinking cards that, when united, created stunning battle scenes. (The X-Men/Magneto/Acolytes triptych is still a jaw-dropper). Available at more than affordable prices, you can make this popular series part of your collection easily. And indeed, you should.

Buy the X-Men Series II Complete Base Set here

1993 Marvel Masterpieces Carnage Card

Price $1-5

Is there a character who represents the Icarus-type approach that Marvel had to their new creations in the 1990s more than Carnage? Love him or hate him, you definitely had opinions on him back in the day (if not to this very moment). He is featured here though as an example of exactly how tuned into the fan base Skybox was at the height of their powers. They gave consumers cards bursting with life, making unsavory folks like old Cletus here appealing…and highly collectible.

Buy the 1993 Marvel Masterpieces Carnage Card here

Silver Surfer vs. Thanos Etch Foil Card

Price: $1-$5

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Let’s wrap things up by stating a fundamental truth that about all of Skybox’s Marvel trading cards line: They set the gold standard for non-spot cards in the 1990s due to the sheer care that was put into them. No other line featuring these characters had been done so artistically. Everything was all about fan service in a time when that phrase had yet to have any negative connotations forced upon itself. So to look upon a card like this offering from the 1992 Marvel Masterpieces line in which two titans square off to determine the fate of the universe was a revelation for consumers.

Holding a card like this made it feel as if the Marvel Universe was literally in the palm of your hand. Through a combination of enlisting top-tier talent and incorporating innovations in trading card evolution, Skybox was able to transcend mere collectible. We aren’t being grandiose here. To compare the Skybox releases to previous licensed Marvel cards is like pitting the 1960s Spider-Man TV series against Into the Spider-Verse, both have their delights but one is clearly advanced in every way. Skybox cards were a game changer, just as Silver Surfer fighting Thanos would be. And the winner of their battle? Marvel fans everywhere.

Buy the Silver Surfer vs. Thanos Etch Foil Card here

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I Am Tired of Films Like Antebellum

By Angelica Jade Bastién - Sept. 14, 2020

This movie had the opportunity to show a more dynamic side of slavery narratives, but it ends up reaffirming the very horror it is trying to critique

I am tired. I am tired of pop-cultural artifacts that render Black people as merely Black bodies onto which the sins of this ragged country are violently mapped. I am tired of suffering being the primary lens through which we understand Black identity. I am tired of being so hungry for Black joy and Black representation that scraps feel like a meal. I am tired of films about slavery refusing to acknowledge the interior lives of Black women even as their beings become tools for filmmakers to explore the horrors of the enslaved.

I am tired of thin characterization and milquetoast social messaging being the kind of representation Black folks receive. I am tired of films like Antebellum.

The feature debut of writer-director duo Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz is seemingly poised — with an overly serious demeanor — to provoke a reckoning. Especially if you ask its directors, who, in an introduction that preceded the version of their film I watched, prattled on about their lofty goal to “activate a conversation” that is “of and for this moment.” Instead, Antebellum reaffirms the very horror it’s trying to critique.

Beginning with the ostentatious opening tracking shot — snaking its way through plantation grounds, noting the hard work of the Black folks on the land and the white Confederate soldiers watching their every move — we are plunged into a world both strange and achingly familiar. A world of picked cotton and casual cruelty, prim southern ritual and uninhibited brutality. But there is something amiss about the plantation on which Eden (Janelle Monáe) is viciously abused and from which she continuously tries to escape. The first cue that things are far from what they seem is the appearance of a golden septum piercing glinting in the light on the face of another enslaved woman as she futilely tries to break free and is unceremoniously killed for it.

But before we learn anything about Eden’s reality, before we even know her actual name, we witness profound violence against her, first in a harrowing scene in which she’s branded. After 40 minutes of unrelenting torture in antebellum dress, the film turns on its axis. Monáe is reintroduced as Veronica Henley, a famous writer and activist of considerable wealth, with a doting husband and young daughter. Here, we get more detail about her lavish home than the actual characters who live there with her, the camera panning across the luxe interior and photographs of Veronica competing in horse-jumping events (a subtle gesture to what’s to come in the third act). At one point in this contemporary setting, Veronica says to a friend, “My nana used to say our ancestors haunt our dreams to see themselves forward.” The line suggests a multitude of fantastical pathways for Antebellum. Is this story like something out of Octavia Butler’s Kindred? Is the Monáe we saw before a figment of the memories of Veronica’s distant relatives? Is there something supernatural afoot? No. Instead, the filmmakers choose a more banal explanation. Her link to the plantation we witness in the first act of the film is less imaginative than that slip of dialogue suggests.

Antebellum ends up being a noxious tour of historic violence against Black folks in service of a story that has nothing novel to say about the obliterating function of whiteness and anti-Black racism. Lacking a strong point of view to grant interiority to its characters, its approach to horror and social commentary becomes deadened. On the level of craft, Antebellum assumes beauty — the film is obsessed with depicting the magic hour in all its sherbet-hued glory — is inherently rich with meaning. As a result, the world-building is slapdash, confusing obfuscation with intrigue. Antebellum is an artistic failure of two directors whose goals supersede their ability to meet them, festering with not only aesthetic and narrative failures but moral ones too: It implicitly argues that depictions of suffering are the best means of understanding what it means to be Black in America.

In the wake of Jordan Peele’s success with his first two films — the exploratory Get Out and the beguiling but messy Us — Hollywood has realized that horror is an apt venue for excavating the grooves of Black identity and the mellifluous, dynamic experience of what it means to be Black throughout the diaspora. There is Misha Green’s overwrought Lovecraft Country currently airing on HBO, as well as Justin Simien’s Bad Hair and Nia Dacosta’s upcoming reimagining of the 1990s Tony Todd classic Candyman. The genre, at its best, lets us explore cultural taboos and fears with an unvarnished alacrity. I still think it’s possible to do a horror film that explores slavery in this country’s history, but that requires a sure hand, a strong point a view, and an even stronger sense of history — none of which is demonstrated in Antebellum. It’s hard to create any tension when the characters are so poorly drawn and the world they inhabit has little internal logic. Sure, there are scant moments of tension, but they fizzle out quickly thanks to the inert dialogue and rank stupidity of the story (much of which I can’t get into without spoiling the majority of the plot).

White people in particular are rendered as caricatures who seem to get an erotic charge from the violence they inflict, including Jack Huston as the leering Hugo Meadows, a Confederate solider of great standing who supervises the plantation — which isn’t necessarily a misguided approach so much as improperly executed, flattening rather than revealing anything about the nature of whiteness and its emptiness in America. Whiteness is an oft-told lie that powers much of the world, yet Antebellum is neither cunning enough nor intellectually ambitious enough to explain such a truth. So the white people have no internal logic, no gravitas. They evoke neither fear nor overwhelming hate, mostly just boredom, except for Jena Malone, who comes the closest to striking the necessary chord by foregrounding white women’s toxicity. But her performance is undone by the odd dishonesty of the film — the N-word is never uttered, for one.

The idea of doing a slave narrative, even one wrapped in a twist that puts a Black woman at the fore, is a risky proposition, given that slavery period films rarely allow the interior life of their characters to rise above the physical and psychological pain they endure. Who even is Veronica? When we see her onstage at a public appearance in New Orleans, staring out at the beaming faces of so many Black women, she speaks in empty, progressive platitudes that make it hard to understand the work she actually does. (I lost count at how many times she shoved the word “patriarchy” into her sentences.) A strange grasp of class snakes its way through the story, too; it’s as if the filmmakers are drawing a line from the worth of a modern-day Black person to the intellectual/financial class they inhabit. (One of the more important deaths in the film is of a character who is only referred to as “professor,” but given no defining features beyond that.)

The effect is wholly distancing. It’s worthwhile to explore the pain and grit of moving through America while being Black, but that exploration shouldn’t come at the expense of the humanity of the characters. Janelle Monáe is entirely miscast; she has been charming in supporting roles like that in Moonlight, but here she lacks the gravitas and precision to make Veronica feel real. But I can’t blame her for not bringing to life what obviously didn’t exist on the page. Antebellum is ultimately a travesty of craft and filmmaking with a perspective that hollows out the Black experience in favor of wan horror.

https://www.vulture.com/2020/09/antebellum-movie-review-i-am-tired-of-films-like-this.html?utm_source=pocket-newtab

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Antebellum is a 2020 American horror film written and directed by Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz in their feature directorial debuts. The film stars Janelle Monáe, Eric Lange, Jena Malone, Jack Huston, Kiersey Clemons, and Gabourey Sidibe, and follows a modern-day African American woman who must escape from what appears to be a 19th-century Southern slave plantation.

Antebellum was released in the United States through video on demand on September 18, 2020. The film received mixed reviews from critics, who criticized the screenplay and lack of nuance, although Bush and Renz's direction and Monáe's performance received some praise.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antebellum_(film)

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The “Antebellum” Directors on Ancestry and Purpose 

Antebellum is both jarring and polarizing, and that’s exactly the point. Written and directed by Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz, their debut feature film follows a modern woman named Veronica (Janelle Monáe) as she is seemingly transported to the Antebellum South, where she assumes the name of Eden as an enslaved woman. What unfolds is a horrific and surprising look at slavery through a contemporary lens. The film—which draws from a short story written by Bush, inspired by his nightmare—employs a level of violence that at times feels gratuitous, but as the writer/director duo notes, the horror is meant to trigger and disturb you. “We felt that it was necessary to put the mirror up to this country,” Bush says. “Look at it. Look at it because it’s happening right now. I’d rather for people to be somewhat triggered within the safety of their own homes than for us to continue to lie to each other and live in an open air shooting gallery every time I leave my front door.” Below, Bush and Renz discuss the urgency of Antebellum, casting Janelle Monáe, and the polarizing nature of their film.

https://www.interviewmagazine.com/film/antebellum-gerard-bush-christopher-renz-janelle-monae

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#Antebellum #movie review #Christopher Renz #Gerard Bush

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The Unquiet Grave: Chapter 5

You can read Chapter 5 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 5: What Games We Play

           Hannibal Lecter’s office is the product of a man that drowns in aesthetics. When Will is allowed in from a small waiting room, he learns more about Dr. Lecter by how he decorates than how he interacts. There is a sense of vertigo, Will’s having to look around to learn about someone rather than simply look into their eyes to see. He knows of several empaths that would have been annoyed at the shift, at the sense of tilting over as their world and all of its truths changed.

           Will harbors no such feelings. After his readings on Dr. Lecter, he is more than eager to learn by visual directions rather than empath-impressions. It’s a hunger he won’t deny himself, seeing as how he’s never been able to entertain it before.

           “Are you going to sit down?” Lecter asks him as he peruses books ranging from Dante to Doyle to Bronte. He pauses on one whose spine is mildly abused, and he pulls the book out in order to open it, curious.

           “You like Blake,” he says, glancing back to Lecter seated in a leather upholstered chair.

           “I do,” he agrees, and if he minds Will’s pacing and perusing, it doesn’t show on his face. That sort of uncertainty, that sense of unknowing, makes him wander about more, glancing over everything with a sort of hunger that distracts him from the fact that he didn’t get much sleep the night before.

           “Cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face,” he tells Lecter absentmindedly beside a loud paneling of curtains. He thumbs through the book, feeling pages with gloved hands. He wonders what sort of impressions he’d take from touching the pages with his fingertips unclothed, but he doesn’t do it. There is something exciting, eager about his thoughts at the realization that for the first time in forever, he’ll have to make an educated guess.

           Hannibal Lecter interests him far more than he’s willing to let on.

           “Terror the human form divine, and Secresy the human dress,” Hannibal finishes for him. “A Divine Image, William Blake. Tell me about Agent Hobbs, Agent Graham.”

           “Are you asking if he had a cruel, human heart with a jealous human face?” he asks, pausing beside a stag whose heft of brass carving looks heavy enough to be troublesome if it ever fell over. He glides the back of his free hand along the curve of the flank, staring at the intricate details along its neck, the intelligent look rendered in its carved eyes.

           “You know him best of all, since you tracked him. The news didn’t make it public that he was a rogue agent, therefore I was mildly surprised when you told me that.”

           Will logs it away that Hannibal Lecter’s surprise is so well hidden that when he’d first told him of Hobbs, it hadn’t shown in the slightest. He’ll have to get better at reading his face, learn the small tics and twitches of it. “The FBI doesn’t like it to be public that despite their best efforts, empaths aren’t the most solid of choices for field work.”

           “Why use you, then, if it’s so utterly dangerous?”

           “The man hours alone that it saves in using us saves the government, and thereby the people, billions of dollars. The equipment used in the labs that can be set aside for only the more complicated or necessary work that normally costs hundreds to thousands for use or operation is another money saver, and even with our higher pay and mental compensation plans, it ultimately saves the most money to use us than to not.”

           “The mental strain alone ultimately breaks most empaths in the end, though,” Lecter points out.

            “Saves money on retirement, then, too,” Will retorts.

             “As we can see with the late Agent Hobbs,” Lecter replies after a beat, dryly. “What caused him to go rogue?”

           Will peruses a small section of books dedicated to art work, and he finds William Blake once more. He takes that book from the shelf as well, curiosity making him turn pages, thumbing through to find ones with the most faded edges, one touched by hands of reverence or eagerness. What art moves Dr. Lecter? What gives him inspiration, voice, essence?

           “…He was retiring soon,” he says, and he glances over to Lecter to gauge his reaction to Will touching his things. His expression is impassive, his deep-set eyes intent but not narrowed. Will marvels at the ability to study, to see without seeing, and he makes his way closer, feet sinking into the plush and intricate design of a floor rug as he makes his way to the chair opposite of Lecter’s. He doesn’t sit just yet, though. “He had a standard, six-month mental evaluation, like we all do in order to test our mental state. He didn’t pass, and with his daughter graduating high school as well, it was decided that he would be better suited retiring and going home to help her with that rather than continue work that he couldn’t do and do well.”

           “Do you think the retirement caused him to lose sight of everything that he deemed important?”

           “I think it was a catalyst, but the retirement was because he was losing his grasp on reality even before he starting killing. In his evaluation, he discussed his daughter with a behavior and dialogue verging on obsessive, and he referred to their time together as a form of honoring who she was and what she was. Her upcoming graduation, coupled with a red stamp of disapproval on his sheet were only the straws to ultimately break the camel’s back, not some singular moment that made him fantasize about killing.”

           “Was it killing, in his mind?” Hannibal asks. Will handles the two books, shifts and paces along the rug in order to study a painting on the wall depicting two women in a glade beside a well. He stares at the painting, at the oil on canvas rendered with care and adoration, and he shakes his head, whether Hannibal can see it or not.

           “He was honoring them, and in doing so, honored her,” he says slowly. “They thought that his retirement would give him the time to spend with her before she left, but that sudden shift in a life plan, coupled with what he thought to be a loss of his daughter, pushed him over, and the intrusive thoughts and dreams he’d already struggled with took hold until he couldn’t see his way out anymore.”

           “You told Dr. Bloom that he wasn’t like most psychopathic empaths –the title for them is, of course, in itself a paradox.”

           “He’s not,” Will says it, realizes he’s speaking as though Hobbs is still alive. “He…was sensitive. His delusions, his dreams made him believe that he was honestly honoring those girls, giving them something beyond themselves as he found a way to connect to his daughter without having to hurt her. He tried to make their deaths as painless as possible.”

           “In comparison, you shooting him will have felt far more jarring after you experienced the form of care that he gave to his victims while giving him no such respect in his own demise.”

           The fact that he can see that, the fact that Lecter says those words with such assurance, such confidence is staggering, and Will turns back to him to stare, swallowing down a noise of indignation and surprise. He meets Dr. Lecter’s gaze and it holds for far longer than he’s ever held a gaze with someone –such things would have normally pulled him into the dark depths of the iris, the knowing place where ugly things were left to rot inside of the mind. With Lecter, though, he isn’t drawn in; instead, he notes the pleased crinkles near his eyes, the faintest of twitches near his lips that suggests he knows exactly what Will is doing, roaming around touching his things.

           Dr. Lecter doesn’t mind it in the least.

           If anything, he seems amused to see Will invade his space with the behavior of someone that is used to doing that for a living with no one to stop them. Will finds it in himself to sit down, still holding both the book of art and the book of poetry like shields against Lecter’s immense sense of knowing.

           “She was his golden ticket,” Will finds himself saying. “He was about to destroy it because all else was lost. The FBI took his job, his future, his plans, his…aspirations, left him to go home where life itself was taking away the one pride and joy he had, and in his mind they let him go to watch the only thing he had left leave him. I can unequivocally understand him, but I don’t regret killing him.”

           “No, in the heat of the moment, I’d almost say you enjoyed it.”

           He rears back in his chair, gripping the books tightly at that. There is no indication of judgement or censure in those words, just a calm and almost detached tone to it, like Lecter is commenting on the particularly pretty shade of blue in a pair of off brand dress slacks.

           “…Killing is the ugliest thing in the world,” he finds himself saying. Slow, purposeful. Like he has had to recite the words in his head several times before forcing them out.

           “There is something beautiful in its power, though; we inherited our capacity for violence and cruelty from our human ancestors, not our animal ancestors. There is something to be said to be able to enjoy it from an artistic perspective, as you tend to have to do when you look into the eyes of a fellow empath and see how they felt in killing.”

           “Trying to trap me, doctor?” Will taunts lightly. “Going to tell Jack I’ve an itch for killing people now because of Agent Hobbs?”

           “On the contrary, my intent is to show you the many ways in which you can understand that killing, for all of its horrific nature, the ugliness you see it to be, can also be purposeful, right. You’re allowed to take pleasure in the way you took control of your circumstances and saved your life as well as the life of Abigail Hobbs. That in no way makes you the monster your mind would have you be.”

           “’The Caverns of the Grave I’ve seen, and these I show’d to England’s Queen. But now the Caves of Hell I view, Who shall I dare to show them to?’” Will quotes Blake, fingers tapping lightly over the cover. Hannibal considered him, head tilting slightly to the other side, almost animalistic in nature, before he smiles, a clever and engaging sort of thing.

           “Me, Agent Graham; you show them to me.”

           When he sees Will out from a second door used for patient exits, Will goes to return the books he’d thumbed through. He’s surprised when Dr. Lecter refuses, instead pushing them back towards Will’s chest with that same damned, ambiguous smile he wore for the rest of their conversation.

           “Please, Agent Graham, you’ve certainly earned the time and leisure to look through those as you like. Return them when you’ve found what you’re looking for.”

           Later, setting them alongside Beverly’s tablet with Dr. Lecter’s articles in the journals, he wonders what exactly he’s looking for that the good doctor seems to know everything about.

-

           He gets coffee with Alana because she insists, and because she’s a good enough friend he’d hate to disappoint or worry her. It’s a small shop that deserves more customers than it has, what with the fair prices and elegant, old-fashioned way of making coffee, but Will is glad for it. It’s just them, the woman running the counter, and a couple tucked into the corner with their Sudoku and their crosswords.

           “Hannibal tells me he’s met with you a few times,” she says, stirring a chai latte. Time has made it so that he hardly has to look at her to see what she’s feeling or thinking. Relief and pleasure are a film on the table that wasn’t quite wiped clean.

           “Yes.”

           “Has it helped?”

           “Did you know about his ability to be unread by empaths?” Will wonders out loud. He doesn’t have to wait for an answer. He glances to her mouth, sees the guilt at keeping what she’d consider a secret. “I didn’t ask, therefore you didn’t tell me.”

           “I figured you wouldn’t believe until you saw,” she says with a nod.

           “That’s true.”

           “Has it helped, Will?” she presses when he says nothing else. “He went with you when you went to the RA’s home.”

           “That’s his house, but it’s not his home. There’s somewhere else he keeps his secrets.”

           That’s how it was with empaths, although the look of confusion on Alana’s face tells him she doesn’t quite follow his train of thought. Dreamers in particular, like Dolarhyde, are trained to build walls, to create safe spaces within safe spaces. Although he couldn’t hide his fear, he could build enough walls with his dreams that he could hide his secrets and save them for another place.

           “Jack is getting me information regarding what he was working on before he went rogue, and another agent sent me an address to a place he liked to frequent between jobs,” he continues rather than explain what he meant. “Dr. Lecter wants to follow along.”

           He doesn’t reveal that he doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would, Lecter’s following along. After visiting Dolarhyde’s house, he didn’t say much over coffee, allowing Will to mull over what he’d felt and seen. Someone betrayed Dolarhyde, that much was certain –whether on purpose or not, he couldn’t say, but it was a betrayal all the same. After their conversation at Lecter’s office, his ability to know that Will enjoyed killing Hobbs, there is a sense of something odd, something alluring in the manner in which he tracked Will throughout his office, gleaning more information from Will than Will thought he’d gained from Lecter.

           It was a little exciting, if he was being completely honest with himself.

           “He’s worked with empaths before, and he was my mentor in school. Apart from his professional recommendations, I put my stamp on him.”

           It means more to him that she recommends him than anyone else, although he’s not sure if he should say that. His level of comfort around certain people is something he holds close, not using words to express how much or little someone means to him. That creates vulnerability, and Will has had enough with vulnerability, with letting too much in. He’s had to share a bed with two dead bodies; he doesn’t want to imagine a third, one alive and needing validation of his friendship.

           “He’s smart,” he allows after he finishes his coffee. “I read his work.”

           “All of it?”

           He doesn’t want to admit that yes, of course he’d read every single published piece. “A bit. He seems to understand empaths differently than others. He doesn’t fear us.”

           “People don’t fear empaths,” she says, but at his cross look, she amends hastily, “at least, not the way you imply. No one likes their secrets being exposed by a simple glance. No one likes thinking that if someone touches them, they know everything.”

           “No one likes an empath going rogue and killing people,” he says sarcastically.

           “You’ll find your RA,” Alana assures him.

           “I was talking about me.”

           That takes her by mild surprise, and she has to think about his words for awhile before she can find something to say to try and comfort him. Will isn’t looking for comfort, though; when he gets a call from Jack to meet him at a crime scene, he figures he’s looking for something similar to comfort, but something that doesn’t ache so much on the way down.

-

           It’s an open field with tall grass swaying in the wind, a cool breeze to whisper the cold day that it’s going to be. Will takes his jacket off and rolls up his shirt sleeves to really bask in the feeling of the environment around him, and he picks his way around a few vehicles to walk along a path stamped down from use. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sun bears down on his gloved hands. When a bit of stray wheat dances and brushes against his arm, he can feel the pressure of a grasshopper leaping, of a doe rushing with wild panic. He twitches away from it and continues on his path.

           Jack has had enough time to make sure the crime scene is ‘safe’ for him, and Will steps around a few police officers in order to take in the scene. It’s a bit nauseating, and the coffee roils in his stomach, but he forces himself to look because that’s his job and that’s what he does so wonderfully well.

           “Whenever you’re ready,” the annotator tells him.

           Sometimes he wonders if it’s a test from the FBI, the things he’s seen and the death he’s witnessed secondhand. Surely no one would take a young woman and throw her onto the head of a stag; surely the FBI merely wants to test his mettle, his obedience to them when they ask him to look at things like this. As he circles her, arms splayed in supplication to the heavens above, he knows that such thoughts are nothing but paranoia, though –he’s seen enough into the hearts and minds of mankind to know that there are plenty of people that, given half the chance, would eat someone alive if it got them one step ahead.

           He inhales the stench of open wounds, of a chest cavity missing a vital piece for life, and after removing his gloves, he presses his hands into the blood, throwing walls down rather than letting them fall on their own time.

           You are nothing.

           You think of yourself rather highly, as any with privilege does; this is not so, though. Through these actions of mine, I’ve reduced you to what you truly are –a pig, as easy to kill as the swine to the slaughter, as malleable as clay as I slice down your chest and break past the ribs to remove what gives life anew through each breath. Are we not more than flesh and bone? Yes, yes; as life was so given to you, I take away and give myself at my leisure, at my pleasure.

           Will opens his eyes, and the woman before him –Cassie Boyle, his mind provides –still lives. She struggles, but he holds tight, and brown eyes meet his with the sort of panic and fear one gives when they know just how close they dance the line to death.

           He doesn’t smile at her, nor does he taunt her. His actions are methodical, as smooth and unhesitating as one ties a shoe. With strength, with utmost precision he lifts her and slams her onto the stag head, and the screams of agony that rip through her invigorate him, embolden him. As she flails and tries to free herself, a knife is produced and the clean, forced line down her chest is one of time, of practice and strength. Her screams turn to whimpers, to gasping chokes as her brain struggles to comprehend what is happening –

           -Will needs no such effort, though; he knows exactly what he is doing as he does it.

           The lungs are removed, and along his hands he sees gloves and an odd, vinyl suit over a nondescript black top. With finesse, he removes them and stares down at wide eyes and a gaping mouth, a body struggling to provide what it no longer can.  The contrast of skin to blood, of bone to gore is empowering, and in her final moments of life, as her heart shudders and struggles, Will stares down and imagines just how beautiful the backdrop of the field around them set to the woman impaled on the horns, her purpose nothing more than to provide a contrast to Garrett Jacob Hobbs and a freshly prepared meal.

           Can’t you see, Agent Graham? This is the sort of thing you have the capacity to be.

           He comes to and takes several steps back, grasping for a wet rag that’s provided by someone he can’t see, stuck as he is blinking back the sensation of what lungs feel like in gloved hands, what bones feel like jutting through skin. He lifts his walls in his mind, raises them high, but they fight him for longer than he likes, and he has to use another rag to fully remove all of what he’s consumed through his skin.

           “What’d you see?” Jack asks him. The annotator stands nearby, pen poised over the notepad. Will gasps and inhales sharply, closing his eyes tight for several furious heartbeats.

           “…This is for me,” he murmurs, and his voice is half-strangled.

           “You?”

           “It isn’t Dolarhyde,” he says, and he opens his eyes to look at Jack. “That’s why you called, isn’t it? You thought it was Dolarhyde?”

           “Who is it?”

           “I didn’t see that,” he says, and once his hands are sufficiently clean, he holds the rag out and someone takes it from him, allowing him to put his gloves back on with jerky, curt movements. “Intelligent psychopath, a sadist; not one I’ve seen before. He removed the victim’s lungs while she was alive, after he impaled her on the antlers. He’s either eaten, or he’s going to eat the lungs.”

           “Eat the lungs,” Jack repeats flatly.

           “He sees her as a pig. He sees all of us as pigs, and he wanted to show me that.”

           “Why you?” Jack presses. “Is it another empath? Another rogue?”

           “No, this…this person knows about me. About what happened with Hobbs, I think. Hobbs impaled women on antlers, so he impaled this woman on antlers.” He scrambles to try and think, to focus past the chill down his spine at someone that spoke so vividly to him. “He…asked me if I could see.”

           “He asked you?”

           “He did this with me in mind, Jack. He did this to get at me.”

            “Why?”

            “I don’t know,” Will snaps, and he thinks of the last line before he was able to pull himself away. He should tell Jack what the voice said, dissonant, faraway, but he can’t quite bring himself to. This is the sort of thing you have the capacity to be.

           He doesn’t tell Jack. He doesn’t want Hansen called in. He doesn’t want a therapist, god forbid a review of his mental state if they think he’s getting too close to the edge. He surprised, then, to hear Hannibal Lecter of all people say,

           “Could it be that there is a copycat or a protégé, Agent Crawford? Someone that Agent Hobbs worked with?”

           Will turns his head to look, and the person holding the bloodstained, wet rags is Dr. Lecter of all people, gloved and dressed for the cooler weather.

           “Could be,” Jack admits, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not Dolarhyde? You’re sure?”

           “That’s not Dolarhyde; the tone is different. Dolarhyde seemed purposeful, in control, but this…this was methodical. This was planned, and he was amused the entire time, like it was some kind of punchline to some great big joke.”

           “Are you going to have Agent Graham look into it?” Dr. Lecter asks. Someone nearby reaches for the rags in his hands and disappears with them. Will tracks the movements, studies the flex and twist of Lecter’s wrists as he turns them behind his back casually.

           “Oh, no,” Jack says before Will can speak. “Agent Graham works with RA’s if we can help it. He only gets these guys if we’re in way over our heads.”

           “An intelligent psychopath, particularly a sadist, is very hard to catch,” Will says, and he chances a glance back to her body, splayed out and vulgar in its expression. “You have to wait for them to make a mistake, leave something that an empath can see beyond the thoughts and impressions.”

           “We’ll have a Feeler ghost along the stag head and the surrounding area, see what comes up,” Jack says, and that’s Will’s sign to leave. He’s not just a Feeler, and he won’t have to deal with the case unless they’re in over their heads.

           Instead, he’s got Dolarhyde to keep him busy. He’s not sure which is the better trade-off.

           “Do you have information about his cases?” he asks Jack.

           “Director Purnell told me that she’d e-mail you,” Jack promised. An evasive answer, and Will takes it sullenly.

           Dr. Lecter follows him to his vehicle as he signs out from the crime scene, and they pause near the driver’s door, Will sneaking short, quick glances and the good doctor gazing with steady intent.

           “…Are they going to have you at every single scene I go to?” Will asks warily.

           “For the time being,” he replies lightly.

           “That a sign they don’t have any faith in me?”

           “It’s a sign that they want you to make a healthy, smooth recovery from the trauma you endured,” Lecter says, and at Will’s scoffing, indignant bark of laughter, he continues, “Where there was a stag head involved, they had suspicions it was a tie to Agent Hobbs, and they wanted to ensure you wouldn’t have a flashback of any sort to the previous incident.”

           “I didn’t,” Will snaps.

           “Didn’t you?”

           “No, this was nothing like Hobbs,” he says, waving a hand at Lecter’s amused expression. “Don’t give me that look, this was…Hobbs loved those girls. He wouldn’t disrespect them like this. He wouldn’t be vulgar, cruel. He thought their deaths were quick and merciful, but this guy…this guy was happy to relish in her pain. He knew the cuts to make, the way to turn her at just the right angle that she was impaled rather than falling against the antlers and sliding to the side. He…relished in her screaming.”

           Will is careful to speak slowly, that he can ensure that he says ‘he’ rather than ‘I’.

           “A foil to Agent Hobbs?”

           “A foil to Agent Hobbs,” Will agrees. “And…and a jab at me. Whoever they are, they’re jabbing at me.”

           “Does that make you feel threatened, Agent Graham?” Lecter wonders. In the brilliant sunlight of the crisp fall day, his hair holds golden hues, his skin alive and positively glowing. Will studies his expression, the way that his eyes can only take in what he can see rather than what’s behind the face.

           “…No. If anything, I-” He stops himself before he can say anything stupid, before he can say something he’ll regret. Dr. Lecter tilts his head slightly, prompting.

           “You what, Agent Graham?” he prompts.

           Will swallows, glances back to the scene in the short distance, agents hurrying to and fro, another empath standing off to the side and waiting, their back to the scene. He grimaces, adjusts his glasses that slide down his nose no matter how hard he tries to fix them, and he lets out a short, forlorn sigh.

           “If anything, I’d say they’re trying to play a game with me,” he says at last. To his surprise, Dr. Lecter doesn’t bother to attempt to correct him.

#LiaS scribbles #The Unquiet Grave #Hannibal au #hannibal #hannigram #slowburn hannigram #hannibal x will graham #empath au #seers feelers dreamers #someone help will graham #poor guy needs a hug that won't hurt him

[pviane]

#76 Fan

This is a birthday fanfiction for my little D.Va: @stellania-0401

Enjoy your present!!!

생일 축하해 

After many attempts, Winston finally persuaded the world famous D.Va to join his new reformed Overwatch. Her presence in the team was a great boost in morale and fighting capabilities, as well as good publicity! Everyone in the team loved her as no one could resist her cheerful personality and cute looks. No one but a grumpy old man they called Soldier: 76. His lack of interest in her intrigued the Korean mech pilot and she started to annoy the masked vigilante any chance she got. When he finally snapped at her, she revealed her desire to know him more. After some insistence on Hana’s part, he agreed to spend some time training together. However, he did not go easy on her and during one of such training session she hurt her hand so badly 76 was forced to take her to Mercy for treatment.

“Hana, what happened this time?” the Swiss doctor asked Hana when she arrived.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really! Just a training injury!” she answered.

“You should be more careful! And 76 should not push you so hard!” Mercy commented.

“Can you wait outside? It won’t take long!” she told 76 just before shutting the door behind her, leaving him outside.

“Now tell me what happened!” Mercy asked with her usual motherly tone, sitting down on the table next to Hana.

“I told you it was nothing serious…” she replied snorting.

“Hana Song…. What happened?” Angela insisted pitting her fists against her flanks and staring down at her.

“Ugh! Fine, Mom! I misplaced my hand during an ejection practice and it got hurt when I was jettisoned out! It was a dumb move! I’m so embarrassed he saw me fuck up like that!”

Mercy smiled at her and started applying some biotic ointment on the wounded hand.

“You seem to love 76, don’t you?”

“Yes! When you get to know him is not that bad! He has this fatherly aura around him!”

“Oh, I have to take your word for it! He barely even looks at me!” Angela replied. She paused wondering why that mysterious man acted so strange around her all the time.

“Oh no matter!” Mercy continued, “Let me take some self-hardening bandages! We don’t want that hand to heal bad now, won’t we?”

The doctor stood up from the table and went to the cupboards to look for bandages. In her search, she inadvertently hit her note block, making it fall on the ground. Among the various piece of papers that scattered on the floor one in particular attracted Hana’s attention. She quickly jumped down the table and grabbed it before Mercy was able to collect it.

“Hellooo Handsome!” she exclaimed after a short whistle.

On that piece of paper, there was a black and white sketch of an attractive man. Judging by the shading, his hair and eyes were light and the smirk and the look on his face was so… captivating…

“GIVE IT BACK!”

Raising her eyes from the drawing, Hana could see Mercy extending her hand to her. The expression on Angela’s face was a mixture of rage and embarrassment. Upon seeing the doctor’s impatience Hana smirked

“I this… important to you?” she mocked her

“No… I mean, Ya! Give it back!”

“I am not going to do that until you told me what it is!”

“HANA” Mercy shouted, her face becoming deep red.

 Outside the door Soldier: 76 heard Mercy’s cry and readied himself to intervene. Hearing no further commotion, he leaned against the door so he could hear the discussion between the two women more clearly.

 “Ok, Ok! Jeez, this picture must be very important!” Hana said, returning the piece of paper to its owner.

“It is...” Mercy replied, pausing some moments to contemplate the person in the sketch.

“He must have been important!” D.Va corrected herself

“Ya, he was!” Angela replied absent-mined, absorbed by the eyes she herself drew.

D.Va closed in.

“Can I… ask you who he was?”

Mercy dried a tear before it could fall from her eyes.

“The world knew him as Strike Commander Morrison, hero of the Omnic Crisis, leader of Overwatch, Champion of peace and hero to all…” she recounted “…but to me he was simply Jack… and he was my world”

Hana’s eyes widened

“You mean you and Jack Morrison, the Jack Morrison, were a thing?”

Angela simply nodded, sending D.Va into a fit of joy.

“AAAAAAAAH! This is TOO GOOD!” Hana cried holding her palms against the side of her head and swinging it left and right “My ship was REAL!!!!”

Her last words were met with confusion by Mercy

“Ship? What is that?” she asked

“Oh, a ship? Well… It’s when you think two people or characters are in a… romantic relationship even if that is not confirmed or even not possible…” D.Va responded, embarrassed.

“Isn’t it a bit childish?”

“I was twelve! Of course it was! But it felt so good thinking you two were a couple! And I was right too!”

Outside the door, Soldier: 76 chuckled at this last exchange

Mercy smiled again at Hana while bandaging her hand.

“Yeah you were! It’s sweet you thought of us together! May I ask why?”

“Only if you tell me the story of that picture after!”

“Deal! Why did you “shipped” me and Jack?”

“First of all it was not only me! An entire fandom shipped you! We called you 솔메르 in Korea. It means SolMer, because he was a Soldier and you Mercy!”

“Clever!” Mercy commented

“I followed a blog where people submitted content about you! Photos, news… but also fan made stuff like fanfictions and drawings. I was the 76th to follow the blog!”

“Oh, my! I never realized me or Jack could inspire such things! And so many fans!”

“Come on! You two looked amazing together at public events! And how could someone not make fan content about you! You go into battle dressed like an angel!”

“Point taken!” Mercy admitted

“Now you tell your part!” Hana requested

“Very well! It was a long time ago…Mein Gott, it feels like ages now! I was a young doctor that just joined Overwatch and I was hopelessly lost for the most handsome man on the planet. I knew him while working together and we developed a nice cooperation inside Overwatch but I felt like having no hope with a man much older than me and I believed he was out of my reach. So I expressed my feelings though drawings. I could spent entire hours doodling him. I was sketching this particular picture during one of those endless sessions when Jack himself popped on my door!”

“Uh Oh!” D.Va commented, even more interested in the story

“I was startled and tried to hide the fact that I was drawing. I quickly dropped the drawing pen I was holding and stood up in front of the table, facing him. He was carrying a passed-out Jesse McCree and was asking for my help. It was not the first time McCree drunk on duty and it was not uncommon to find him on my table unconscious. For that reason, I suggested Jack to punish him and he agreed with me. He asked me to find a needle, the biggest one I had.”

“I have fear of needles!”

“Jesse was terrified by them too! That’s why I enjoyed the idea of giving him the biggest scare of his life!”

“Mercy! I didn’t know our Angel could be a devil too!”

“He deserved it, trust me. Anyhow, while I was distracted by the needle, Jack discovered there was that drawing of him on my table and took it. I was barely able to see him with that piece of paper in his hands before he run outside blabbing about some urgent meeting with the UN that just popped up. I was SO embarrassed!”

“Why?” D.Va asked, “It’s a nice picture!”

“The point is: he had no idea of my fixation with him! I kept it as a secret for the fear of being rejected and now he was running away with one of my works! I was so paralyzed I could not even slap Jesse when he woke up in that same moment stating the obvious.”

“What did he said?” Hana asked

“He slurred ‘he stole your drawing’. I could see that, dumpkof!” Mercy answered pinching her nose in frustration. She was still angry with the Cowboy after all those years.

“And then? What happened? How did you get it back? I NEED TO KNOW!” D.Va begged.

“Well, after a while I caught him alone” Mercy resumed her tale “and demanded my drawing back. He agreed to return it to me, on one condition: a kiss.”

D.Va’s mouth opened wide in surprise

“Yes, a kiss. A simple kiss on his cheek. I was initially shy about the idea and I feared he might take advantage of it and stole a kiss on my lips. However, when I agreed he let me plant a kiss on his cheek and simply gave the sketch back. I was surprised by his honesty and when he asked me out for a break together some days later I was more than happy to go.”

“Ohhh” D.Va commented in awe “so that’s how it all started!”

“Yes. Over time our relationship deepened and we became much more than co-workers and friends. We became lovers. And one year later, on that day, I gifted him a much more refined version of that original drawing, which I still keep with myself as you saw.”

On the other side of the door Soldier: 76 backed up a little. He opened the zip on his Jacked and reached for something inside. He extracted a folded piece of paper and started opening it, careful not to tear the old thing. Pausing for a moment, he stared at the picture inside. The person in it looked back at him with his blue eyes. Jack Morrison’s blue eyes. The same eyes that were watering behind the visor right now.

After a brief pause, Hana asked one last question.

“So, after that it all ended with that… incident right?” she said looking down with sad eyes.

“Yes. However, in a way it never ends. You do not love a man like the way I loved him and simply stop. He is still inside me, in my memories, in my heart…

Hana kept her head down, trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Mercy noticed the shiny drops falling form her cheeks and cupped her face in her hands.

“You know, it may sound silly, but sometimes I hope he is still alive somewhere. A part of me cannot believe he is really dead.” She told D.Va.

“That would be nice!” the Korean girl replied wiping her tears “If only it was true!”

In that moment, the two heard knocking on the door. Angela stood up and went to open the door.

76 was still on the other side, waiting.

“Is she all right?” he asked without looking directly at the doctor

“Oh, she is a tough girl, she will be fine!”

Hana stood up and walked towards them. Without looking up or saying a word, she passed between them. Soldier: 76 rested a hand on her shoulder and she stopped.

“What’s wrong, soldier?” he asked

“Nothing…. Just that my favorite story will never have a happy ending.” She replied before resuming her slow walk down the hallway. 76 could clearly hear her sobbing and that was breaking his old heart. Looking down, he sucked up the pain.

“Never say never!” he whispered.

Then he raised his head and looked straight into Mercy’s eyes.

There you have it! A quick story where D.Va was actually a Mercy76 shipper :P

The drawing story is inspired by a wonderful comic by @ufficiosulretro

So if you want to see Mercy’s drawing, go see it on the original page!

I hope you all liked it!

#fanfic #mercy76 #d.va #mercy x soldier 76 #birthday

[nolimitsongrace]

Resist the Devil With Joy

Is good health as easy as doing jumping jacks while watching a comedy? Science finally caught up with the Bible, revealing these surprising health benefits of laughter for your spirit, soul and body.

READING TIME:   7 MINUTES

When was the last time you had a really good laugh? Not just a small chuckle or a controlled and proper “haha” on the phone, but an all-out, ab-tensing, snort-inducing, sigh-following belly laugh?

Life can be serious sometimes. Bills, health or family concerns, and stressors from work don’t exactly induce roaring laughter. But just like exercise, laughter is incredibly good for your health and, more importantly, it’s a decision.

The Bible tells us, and now science confirms it—a merry heart does good like medicine—spirit, soul and body (Proverbs 17:22). Kenneth Copeland recently sat down with renowned neurosurgeon Dr. Avery Jackson, for a powerful discussion about the effects of laughter on the health of your spirit, soul and body. Dr. Jackson shared how recent research proves that laughter, in conjunction with exercise, will repair your body far beyond anything you can do in the natural.

God’s prescription for health? It includes laughter!

Dr. Jackson says, “God built in mechanisms to heal our imperfect, earthly bodies. Laughter is one of them.”

The good news is that you can make a decision to laugh every day, and as you do, you will rake in these five surprising health benefits of laughter for your spirit, soul and body.

1. Laughter Increases Blood Flow

Maybe you didn’t realize it, but the last time you had a really good laugh—perhaps at a good friend’s joke, a funny television show, or one of those cat videos on YouTube®—you were getting healthier!

Dr. Jackson says that laughter improves your blood flow, which in turn reduces your stress hormones, lowers your blood pressure and activates your immune system. That’s why Proverbs 17:22 (NKJV) says, “A merry heart does good, like medicine.”

This is critical because, according to Dr. Jackson, poor blood flow is the root cause of many diseases. It increases inflammation, which Dr. Don Colbert confirms is the root cause of all major diseases.

Exercise is also a key element in ensuring healthy blood flow. That’s key for people who work sitting or standing for six to eight hours each day. When you exercise and laugh, you are increasing blood flow to the brain—facilitating God’s healing mechanism and preventing disease. It can also repair or prevent neurodegenerative disorders like Parkinson’s disease and Alzheimer’s. We were made to move and be joyful!

Young children, on average, have 300 good belly laughs each day. A typical adult, on the other hand, only experiences 10 per week! Of course, adults have much more to think about and a great deal more responsibility, but the health benefits of laughter are too great to ignore.

Laughter is so important to your health and blood flow, you even get benefits if it’s a put-on laugh. That’s why Dr. Jackson forces himself to laugh many times throughout the day—even if he doesn’t feel like it.

He says, “If you start laughing, even when you don’t want to, it won’t be long until you’re laughing out loud at how funny you sound.”

While both sincere and fake laughter have amazing health benefits, what is even more impressive is how much your body benefits just from anticipating laughter. Studies show that stress hormones like adrenaline and epinephrine drop 70% just from anticipating a good laugh, while mood-elevating hormones called endorphins get a boost.

If you want to live in divine health—spirit, soul, and body—get your body moving and get your daily belly laughs!

Ready for a good laugh? Find a DVD set of Jesse Duplantis’ hilarious stories on life and faith HERE.

2. Laughter Reduces Pain

Hand in hand with blood flow is the issue of pain. There is an opioid epidemic in this nation because people are seeking relief from pain, then being given highly addictive prescription painkillers. But God has a better way.

Though pain relief is often necessary, God has His own prescription for pain. Exercise—which acts as a natural painkiller—and laughter. Both work in the same way as a prescription or over-the-counter painkiller in the way they chemically affect the cell receptors in your brain and body. That’s God’s amazing design!

According to Dr. Jackson, God made the naturally occurring hormone dopamine to relieve pain. We can increase our dopamine levels through both exercise and laughter, and reduce pain naturally. An article in the New England Medical Journal found that 10 minutes of belly laughter relieved pain for up to two hours!

It can be the opposite of what you feel like doing when you’re in pain, but if you focus on getting yourself to exercise or laugh, in combination with speaking the Word of God and standing on His Word for healing, you can take control over what may seem like an out-of-control situation.

This truth changed the life of a man who had been sent home with a terminal condition. He knew the Bible says a merry heart does good, like medicine. He determined that he needed to get some laughter in his life. So, he spent hours every day watching episodes of I Love Lucy, laughing and laughing and laughing. That man recovered!

Yes, standing on the Word of God for healing is first and foremost, but adding exercise and laughter to your routine is clearly beneficial.

3. Laughter Prevents Disease

The benefits of laughter don’t stop at simply reducing pain—a good chuckle can prevent disease, too!

You have an assignment on this earth and staying in good health is part of God’s plan for your life. One way to accomplish this?

Find the funny in life!

Research has found laughter can improve your health and prevent disease by:

Lowering blood pressure

Releasing muscle tension

Increasing feel-good hormones (dopamine, endorphins)

Decreasing stress hormones

Boosting the immune system

Burning calories, and

Giving an overall sense of well-being.

Also, laughter has been found to reduce tumors, increase the effectiveness of cancer treatments, and lengthen the lives of cancer patients.

That is quite a list of benefits for something so fun!

Ready to get healthy? Find 5 Ways to Live in Divine Health HERE.

It’s easy to see why the joy of the Lord is not just the strength of your spirit, it’s the strength of your mind and body, too. The Bible tells us to “count it all joy” (James 1:2, NKJV) in every circumstance for our own physical, mental and spiritual protection.

As you may have guessed, laughing once in a while isn’t going to cut it. You’ve got to make laughter a regular part of your life—just like exercise.

How can you get your daily laughter in?

In his book, The God Prescription, Dr. Avery Jackson prescribes the following:

Laugh, even when you don’t feel like it.

Watch or listen to shows by comedians who do not use obscenities, like The Carol Burnett Show or Christian comedian Tim Hawkins.

Read comics in the newspaper.

Watch funny videos on YouTube®, such as the eTrade babies or videos showing the hilarious antics of children and animals.

For more groundbreaking information and practical lifestyle tips, order your copy of Dr. Jackson’s new book, The God Prescription, HERE.

Start making laughter a part of your daily life and laugh your way to health!

4. Laughter Improves Emotional Health

While laughter is effective at preventing disease, it also reduces stress, which is a major player among the causes of disease. Research has found that emotional health is strongly connected to physical health because, as Dr. Jackson explains, “Emotional issues affect how we see the world, which will, in turn, impact our bodies and emotions.”

Part of our emotional health comes from how we process past circumstances. Dr. Jackson says when one experiences emotional trauma as a child, it often leads to chronic pain and depression in adulthood because there is a direct correlation between what happened to that person and how he or she perceives the world as an adult.

Without the help of the Lord, those traumas can cause people to see things flipped around and not in the light of the truth of God’s Word. The only way to make all things new and move into emotional health is through the Lord Jesus Christ. His joy is our strength, and it, along with the other fruit of the spirit, is imparted to us when we become born again.

Joy is a big part of pushing the reset button on emotional trauma. But you have to operate it by faith.

One way to do so is through laughter.

When you choose to laugh, you choose the joy of the Lord, and that decision positively affects your spirit, soul and body. It’s who you are really meant to be in Christ.

Laughter is a factor of emotional healing. Whenever you start to feel sad, despondent or depressed, make yourself laugh. Remember, your body doesn’t know whether you are laughing spontaneously or are forcing yourself to laugh. The benefit is the same either way!

Dr. Jackson recommends combining laughter with physical and spiritual exercise. He likes to dance in the spirit or pray in the spirit while doing other physical exercises. Then, he works to get in as many belly laughs each day as possible. “When you do,” he says, “you obey God by making Him your joy and refusing to take on the stress of the world.”

Find 25 Scriptures About Joy and Laughter HERE.

5. Laughter Strengthens Your Spirit

Dr. Avery Jackson’s research on laughter, as well as Kenneth Hagin’s revelation on laughing at the devil, has inspired Kenneth Copeland to teach others the importance of laughter in strengthening your spirit. If you’ve attended a KCM event or heard Kenneth speak, you’ve likely enjoyed the benefit of his leading a group laugh session!

Watch one here:

Nehemiah 8:10 says the joy of the Lord is our strength—spirit, soul and body. Dr. Jackson adds, “There is an anointing that comes from joy that strengthens you when there is no strength.”

Laughing from an overflow of joy in the Spirit has tremendous spiritual benefit. When you laugh, you defy the devil’s ability to bring sadness, fear or despair into your life. You laugh at his lack of authority. Instead of dreading the future, you will “laugh at the days to come” (Proverbs 31:25).

Dr. Jackson says, “The best source of laughter is overflowing joy that comes from an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ.”

Kenneth E. Hagin knew this truth and once used it to laugh at the devil until his heart symptoms disappeared. One night, he was experiencing heart symptoms, and up out of his spirit came laughter. As he laughed, the devil asked, “What are you laughing at?”

Brother Hagin said, “I’m laughing at you because you said I’d never get my healing.”

He kept laughing by faith until he laughed those symptoms right out of his body. That’s the joy of the Lord and the power of laughter to strengthen your spirit!

Kenneth Copeland says, “The Bible says the Lord sits in the heavens and laughs at the devil (Psalm 2:4). So go ahead, laugh. God is. We should, too. But do it expecting until your financial enemies, family’s enemies or physical enemies are made your footstool.”

These five surprising benefits of laughter are worth laughing about! The best part? Laughter is free, easy, fun and without side effects. Take the Bible’s advice and spend time developing a merry heart. Find things that make you laugh and include them in your everyday life. You can laugh yourself healthy—spirit, soul and body!

Related Articles:

25 Scriptures About Joy and Laughter

© 1997 - 2019 Eagle Mountain International Church Inc. Aka Kenneth Copeland Ministries. All Rights Reserved.

[frogbutane57-blog]

Best TV of 2019 so far

Back to Life

Daisy Haggard’s downbeat gem took on a tough topic – a woman’s return to her home town after a stretch behind bars – and turned it into a meditation on grief, regret and the passing of time, though with enough gags to keep things zipping along.

What we said: A few episodes into Back to Life, I felt like pushing it away in protest. “No, no!” I cried inwardly. “It’s too much! It’s too good!” Read the full review

Barry

In its second season, this black comedy about a hitman who catches the acting bug took its story into darker territory, with Barry’s attempts to extricate himself from his past life only dragging him further into oblivion. Things aren’t going to end well.

What we said: Though it’s a comedy rather than a thriller, Barry replicates much of what made Breaking Bad irresistible. Read more

Broad City

After five virtually flawless sitcom seasons, Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson’s millennial kweens went out in the same way they came in: with gross-out gags, madcap surrealism and one of the greatest on-screen friendships in TV history.

What we said: This season has given Abbi and Ilana the best possible send-off. It has been joyful, silly and wild, and while it feels like the perfect and necessary time to wrap up their adventures, it is poignant that they’ve done so by reminding you just how good those can be. Read more

A fitting, shocking end ... Catastrophe. Photograph: Channel 4

Catastrophe

Another comedy that went out on a high, Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney’s tale of floundering parents managed to deliver more home truths about the family unit, pay fond tribute to late guest star Carrie Fisher – and offer up one of the most shocking endings in recent TV history.

What we said: From first to last, Catastrophe has been an unremitting triumph. Read the full review

Chernobyl

Already sitting atop IMDb’s top 250 TV shows list before the final episode has even aired, Sky and HBO’s restaging of the Soviet nuclear disaster captures the ineptitude, corruption and horror at its core.

What we said: Chernobyl is a disaster movie, a spy movie, a horror movie, a political thriller, and a human drama, and it spins each plate expertly. The terror is unflinching and explicit, and its images of burned bodies collapsing into putrid decay are impossible to forget. Yet it never feels shocking for the sake of it, only as haunting and horrible as its subject matter demands. Read more

Finally ... David Attenborough lays bare our greatest threat in Climate Change: The Facts. Photograph: BBC/Polly Alderton

Climate Change: The Facts

After years spent hinting at the damage done to our planet by the climate crisis , David Attenborough finally laid out the threat in all its magnitude, in a documentary that may just have turned sceptics into believers.

What we said: This is a rousing call to arms. It is an alarm clock set at a horrifying volume. Read the full review

Dead Pixels

E4’s comedy accurately captured the loneliness and mundanity, but also the sense of community, that comes with picking up a controller. All that, and it was as addictive as an all-night Fifa session to boot.

What we said: This wickedly entertaining new sitcom may have been inspired by the massive success of online games like World of Warcraft but, thankfully, you are not required to know your Azeroth from your elbow to enjoy it. Read more

Derry Girls

One of last year’s surprise hits, Lisa McGee’s Northern Irish comedy didn’t let things slip in its second season, with its quartet still finding teenage kicks in the midst of the Troubles. The scene in which teens from both sides of the sectarian divide unleashed a barrage of stereotypes about each other (“Protestants hate ABBA!”) is among the year’s funniest.

What we said: Derry Girls’ magic remains intact. The evocation of the 90s is as lightly done as ever (Elizabeth Hurley is fleetingly referenced – “She’s a total ride, but she paperclips her frocks together”) and the Troubled setting never overwhelms but simply throws into relief the ordinariness of the girls’ lives in the middle of extraordinary depths of conflict. Read the full review

Don’t Forget the Driver

Bleak comedy … Toby Jones in Don’t Forget the Driver Photograph: BBC/Sister Pictures

Pulling off a state-of-the-Brexit-nation series looked a tall order, but Toby Jones’s understated comedy-drama was taller, finding humour and pathos in its tale of a coach driver who discovers a refugee hiding in his wheel arch and a body washed up on the beach.

What we said: If it is a comedy, it is one with the bleakest tragedy at its heart. But whatever label you put on it, it is a fine, fine piece of work. Read the full review

Fleabag

Back for its second (and, as it turned out, final) outing, Fleabag added a hot priest into the already heady mix of biting wit and family dysfunction – and it built to a heart-rending ending with a wedding, a mad dash to the airport … and a fox. Unforgettable.

What we said: Series two raised the bar. Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s risks were so impressive all one could do was shake one’s head in appreciation. Read the full review

Game of Thrones

Unquestionably the TV event of the year ... Game of Thrones. Photograph: HBO

Did the gargantuan fantasy drama stick the landing in its final season? That’s an argument for the comments section, but both in the scale of its six episodes, and the fevered discussion they prompted, it was unquestionably the TV event of the year.

What we said: The ending was true to the series’ overall subject – war, and the pity of war – and, after doing a lot of wrong to several protagonists, it did right by those left standing. When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die. Overall, I think, it won. Read the full review

Gentleman Jack

Sally Wainwright travelled back in time for her latest piece of thrillingly human Yorkshire drama, with this real life tale of Anne Lister. Suranne Jones has received rave reviews for her portrayal of the 19th-century industrialist and diarist, who developed a code to hide her lesbianism.

What we said: It’s Regency Fleabag! Because the heroine occasionally breaks the fourth wall and exteriorises her inner monologue. But it’s set in Halifax in 1832, so it could be Northern Jane Austen. Then again, it’s about Anne Lister, who has been dubbed the first modern lesbian, so maybe it’s Queer Brontë ... You can afford to have a little fun with Gentleman Jack; Sally Wainwright clearly has. Read the full review

Ghosts

The Horrible Histories team offered up more unashamedly silly comedy with this spirited sitcom about a group of ghouls going to war with the new owners of a crumbling mansion.

What we said: In making us giggle at the supernatural, Ghosts is very British. But it is American in the sense of having a gag-to-airtime ratio much higher than British sitcoms normally manage these days. Read the full review

I Think You Should Leave With Tim Robinson

This deliriously absurd sketch show from a former Saturday Night Live player was hailed immediately as one of the greatest Netflix shows to date.

What we said: I wolfed down the entire series in one sitting, genuinely incapacitated with laughter. And then I watched it all again. I’m at the stage where I’m cherrypicking sketches now, but I’ve seen my favourites six or seven times. I’m fully obsessed at this point. At its peak, I think I Think You Should Leave might be one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Read more

Leaving Neverland

A devastating four-hour exposé of alleged child sexual abuse by Michael Jackson. Wade Robson and James Safechuck chillingly and plausibly outlined their accounts of childhood grooming by the man that they, and the whole world, worshipped.

What we said: An astonishing piece of work. Relentlessly spare and unsensationalist, it manages better than any other in its genre not to let its attention wander from the survivors’ testimony. Footage of Jackson is confined almost wholly to that of him with the boys themselves on stage, private calls between them and family snaps. He is never allowed to overwhelm the story. Read the full review

Line of Duty

Complex … Martin Compston and Stephen Graham in Line of Duty. Photograph: BBC/World Productions

Jed Mercurio’s police corruption masterpiece returned for a fifth outing after a two-year wait, bringing with it a stunningly complex performance from Stephen Graham, more urgent exits required … and heartstopping, jaw-dropping action to the last.

What we said: As ever, nothing is wasted; not a scene, not a line, not a beat. It fits together flawlessly – you can imagine Mercurio sitting like a watchmaker at his table with the parts spread before him and fitting the loupe to his eye before assembling the whole thing and listening for its perfectly regulated tick. Read the full review

Mum

Stefan Golaszewski’s sitcom tour de force ended on a heartwarming high. Over three lovely series, Lesley Manville and Peter Mullan as Cathy and Michael gave us the gift of a quietly epic romance that will echo down the ages – and kept the tears in our eyes.

What we said: Mum might have looked like it was just a sitcom, but it had something beautiful to say about love and loss. It’s said it. Read the full review

Pose

Assembling the largest collection of trans actors in televisual history, Ryan Murphy’s big-hearted drama about the voguing scene in 1980s New York had style, grace, swagger and sass for days. What’s not to love?

What we said: Razzle-dazzle showmanship isn’t Pose’s only source of infectious joy. Watching the slow, still-unfolding process of these characters becoming more and more their true selves is as exhilarating as the opening bars of Cheryl Lynn’s Got to be Real. Self-actualisation isn’t easy, but it sure is beautiful. Read the full review

Pure

Frank and fearless ... Pure. Photograph: Sophia Spring/Channel 4

Following a young woman with a form of OCD called Pure O, which manifests as constant invasive thoughts about sex, this comedy-drama was among the year’s frankest and most fearless TV.

What we said: The drama and the gags are never sacrificed to worthy exposition, virtue-signalling or finger-wagging, but, at the same time, the series has so evidently been made in good faith that you can surrender to it entirely, never fearing that it will put a foot wrong. Read the full review

Russian Doll

A hipster Groundhog Day, but also so much more, Natasha Lyonne’s comedy about a thirtysomething trapped in a time loop of death and rebirth proved a truly mind-bending proposition.

What we said: Russian Doll is an acquired taste. But do persist: there is such a fine, idiosyncratic, impressive show nested within. Read the full review

Sex Education

Gillian Anderson starred as Jean, a sex therapist whose son Otis (Asa Butterfield) – though too anxious to masturbate himself – sets up a sex advice service at school. A punchy, horny comedy, with the added bonus of the fantastic Ncuti Gatwa as Otis’s best friend Eric. Worth watching for his heroic prom outfit alone.

What we said: Endlessly and seemingly effortlessly funny, in a naturalistic way that doesn’t have you listening for the hooves of the next gag thundering down a well-worn track but, like Catastrophe, catches you almost unawares and makes you bark with laughter. Read the full review

The Last Survivors

Sam Dresner, Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, Frank Bright and Susan Pollack ... The Last Survivors. Composite: BBC/Minnow Films Ltd

Arthur Cary’s thoughtful, wonderful and always dignified 90-minute documentary heard the stories of some of the last living people who survived concentration camps as children. A very important work indeed.

What we said: For an hour and a half, I was crying, especially when Cary followed three generations of Holocaust survivors to Auschwitz, knowing all the time that tears are not enough. Nor guilt. Read the full review

The Other Two

How would you react if you could barely get cast as Man Who Smells Fart in an advert while your kid brother became a Bieber-esque teen hearthrob overnight? That’s the premise of this brilliant satire, which skewers our pop-culture-obsessed society spectacularly.

What we said: It has heart, charm, steel, belly laughs and a gimlet eye. Get on it. Read the full review

The Victim

John Hannah and Kelly Macdonald starred in an intelligent drama about a vigilante attack on a potential child killer that managed to ask ever more challenging questions as its episodes rolled on.

What we said: It is a drama that resonates with its time by asking what constitutes a victim and how much leeway we allow in bestowing that status. Do they have to be perfect? How sure do we have to be? And what happens when the perpetrator becomes a victim too, of a different kind? Read the full review

The Virtues

Shane Meadows reunited with This is England star Stephen Graham for an unflinching drama about a troubled dad attempting to reunite with his long-lost sister and process childhood sexual abuse.

What we said: Unspoken pain infuses every scene, every gesture and expression from Stephen Graham and in doing so lays the foundations to do justice to the suffering of victims everywhere. Read the full review

The Yorkshire Ripper Files

Liza Williams’s three-part documentary revisited one of the biggest – and longest – murder manhunts in British history, taking us back to a time so different it seemed almost foreign.

What we said: At its best, Williams’ series – with its mixture of archive footage and new interviews – is a social document. The hindsight it offers is not primarily about the mishandling of the investigation, but of the grim tone of the times. Read the full review

This Time With Alan Partridge

Appalling company ... This Time With Alan Partridge. Photograph: Colin Hutton/BBC/Baby Cow

The excruciating monkey tennis-pitcher went back to the BBC for a One Show-style magazine programme. Inevitably – and hilariously for viewers – it wasn’t the smoothest of returns.

What we said: We get the heroes we deserve, and as you finish writhing in agony and lie limp from laughter, hatred, panic, despair or in awe at the end of another half-hour in his appalling company, you can only reflect that if Brexit means Alan then the whole business just got more complicated still. Read the full review

Veep

A last hurrah for Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s mendacious yet incompetent vice-president, in a political satire that was perfectly attuned for these most buffoonish of times.

What we said: Louis-Dreyfus has won a record six Emmy awards for her role as Selina Meyer, and, frankly, it’s no wonder. She is magnificent, brittle and furiously amoral. In this seventh and final season of Veep, it appears to be getting out while it still has a hope in hell of making its fictional world look more comedic than the real one. Read the full review

When They See Us

Almost unbearably harrowing ... When They See Us. Photograph: Atsushi Nishijima/Netflix

Ava DuVernay’s staggering miniseries about the Central Park Five showed how a group of young boys came to be falsely convicted for raping a young white woman in 1989. It is unbearably harrowing to watch the boys, as young as 13, get violently coerced by police into giving confessions.

What we said: The performances are uniformly astonishing – especially from the central five, Asante Blackk, Caleel Harris, Ethan Herisse, Marquis Rodriguez and Jharrel Jerome, most of whom are just a few years older than the teens they are playing. They capture the innocence, in all senses, of children, and the permanence of its loss. It feels like a great privilege to see them. Read the full review

Years and Years

Russell T Davies’s hugely ambitious drama followed a family through the next 15 years of British life, taking in the migrant crisis, terrifying technological innovations and Trump’s increasingly fraught face-off with China.

What we said: For a series that compresses 15 years into six hours, it seems to pass in the blink of an eye thanks to Russell T Davies’s trademark humour, compassion and the kinetic energy with which he infuses every project. We do not deserve Davies, but thank God he’s here. Read the full review

100 Vaginas

Following her projects about breasts and penises, artist Laura Dodsworth photographed a range of women’s vulvas, then showed the sitters their vaginal portraits and interviewed them for their responses. The result? Intimate, empowering television, unlike anything that has ever aired before.

What we said: A gently but relentlessly radical documentary. It’s not until you see a full set of female genitals filling your screen that you realise how little you see anything of or about them in wider culture. Read the full review

Source: https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2019/jun/03/best-tv-of-2019-so-far

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

[ronaldmorton]

Fidose of Reality 2017 Pawer Women

The pawer women have made their mark in 2017! The ending of one year and the beginning of another brings with it great joy and reflection: This is our year-end tradition wherein Fidose of Reality announces a list of women in the pet industry who go above and beyond. In some way, shape, or form, these ladies did something to impact the lives of dogs in 2017 (and no doubt long before that and for many years to come). This year, we are switching things up. We’ve kept track of dog moms in general this year; maybe they are employed in the pet industry or maybe not. The 10 ladies you are about to meet have done something, either one random act, or throughout the year, that touches the lives of a dog(s) in some capacity. This is the first time Fidose of Reality has put a spin on Pawer Women, and we have all the feels in doing so.

In a year when Wonder Woman officially became the highest-grossing superhero origin film in history, a crown it should wear proudly and loudly, these ladies are a dog lover version of Wonder Woman. If you meet them, you may not see their crown or magic lasso, but trust us, they embody the Wonder Woman spirit.

For the Second Year in a Row, we are naming the Dog Parent of the Year: This is a dog mom who goes above and beyond and through actions, hopefully inspires others to make a difference in the life of a dog. Without further ado, here are the Fidose of Reality 2017 Pawer Women. As an aside, my wife and I gather names of dog women throughout the year and together we discuss who makes the top 10. We do NOT sit in judgement of anyone; rather, we believe in spotlight amazing women who do good things in the dog world, and for their lives to be a celebration.

Dog Parent of the Year: Neely Bryanne

Neely Bryanne Elvidge loves bulldogs. I knew this the moment I met her. Our dogs first crossed paths at a New York City Pet Fashion Show years ago. You will notice a theme here that dogs bring people together, and Neely’s life intersecting with mine is another example.

Neely lived in South Florida for the last decade or so, but moved up to Indianapolis, Indiana last year after marrying her wife, Jen. Though Neely has a doctorate in clinical psychology, when she moved, she decided to go where her heart was calling… with dogs of course! Neely is a patient care advocate at a veterinary hospital outside of Indy. She works at a fear-free clinic and offers integrative medicine including acupuncture, herbal therapy, and cold laser therapy.

The couple has five of their own dogs: Four English Bulldogs and one French Bulldog. They also have 2 cats (a domestic short hair and a Sphynx), as well as an African Grey parrot and several fish. Neely is President of Hoosier Bulldog Rescue, so they often have anywhere from one to five fosters in their home as well. Currently they have three fosters – a special needs French Bulldog with mega-esophagus disorder, as well as a puppy mill mamma with severe skin issues who is about to start heart worm treatment, and a beautiful young bulldog who was used as bait for dog fighting. She’s about to go off to her forever home in New Jersey next month.

Neely and her wife foster and here is her story as to why, in her own words: “After adopting my first English bulldog “Girl” in 2010, I was immediately hooked on bulldogs. I should mention I was originally looking through shelter websites for a shihtzu when I stumbled up on this ancient, scrawny, bloodshot eyed, pathetic bulldog. And I instantly fell in love. She had been in rescue for 6 months and not a single inquiry. Let’s be honest, she wasn’t much to look at back then and she was already 10 years old! But something about her touched my soul. I was going through a breakup and had the typical feelings of being unwanted. I felt connected to her. People kept trying to convince me to get another dog but I kept going back to Girl. After I adopted her, the rescue asked if I wanted to volunteer. Within a month I accepted a position as Vice-President with that rescue and of course fostering came along with that! My first foster was the hardest to part with of course. But when you know they’re going to another amazing home, it’s honestly not that hard to let them go. And sadly, there’s always another one waiting to be rescued. I’ve only had two foster failures in 7 years, so that’s not a bad average!”

Neely says Champ was her everything, her heart dog and  soul mate dog. He came to Neely in 2009. He was found in Miami after being dumped as a bait dog. It took months to recover both physically and mentally. He eventually became a therapy dog and they visited schools, juvenile detention centers, and hospitals. The duo taught Dog Safety & Dog Bite Prevention at local schools and community programs through our Dog Scouts of America troop. Champ also went to work with Neely every day at a psychiatric hospital where he brought a little joy into the patients’ lives. She worked primarily with chronic mental illness (Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder, Severe Depression, as well as Drug Abuse), and Champ provided so much positivity to a normally stressful unit. They started a campaign called Bullies Against Bullying which was the primary focus of so much of our therapy work. She says when Champ passed,  a lot of her ideas and goals were never finished. She recently started working on the series of books that she started a few years ago. Even after his passing, his story continues to inspire others. One of his most well known endeavors was being “Champcasso” – he used his paws to paint on canvas, which they then sold or auctioned off to raise money for rescues.

Meeting Neely and Champ with me and Dex on right

Does she mostly rescue bullies or are there other dogs/breeds, too? Neely says, “Our rescue takes in French and English Bulldogs, as well as bulldog mixes. I’ve helped rehome other breeds also, including shihtzus, pit bulls, and a pugs, but our focus is mainly bulldogs. Although I love all dogs, I do have a fondness for the flat faced kids. ”

Connect with Neely and consider donating to her wonderful rescue:

On Facebook: http://ift.tt/2Eknmdh

Website: DivaDogs.com

Hoosier BullDog Rescue

http://ift.tt/2EiN69A

Congratulations, Neely! We raise our sparkling water dish to you!

Tammy Donly: Pet Blogger, Dog Rescuer, Mega Huge Heart

We first had the pleasure of getting to know West Coast gal, Tammy Donly, through the BlogPaws social media and pet blogging community. Tammy and I became fast online friends due to our shared loved of Cocker Spaniels. Her Cocker, Annie, would coyly flirt with my Cocker, Dexter, and she pined for the two to sometime meet.

The other half of the RosyReports.com team is a cute poodle named Rosy. Here is how Rosy describes meeting Annie, “I was named after Rose Street in Memphis where I was found as a stray in 2010.  I was lucky enough to cross the path of my Mom walking Bear and Fuzz (my two Golden brothers who have since crossed the Bridge.)  We moved to San Diego in 2011 and I officially proclaimed myself a California Princess.  In 2012 we saw a Cocker Spaniel on Facebook and my parents went to get her at the shelter. I claimed her as my dog and named her Annie. (FYI, Annie and I are both forever young seniors- Annie is 15+ and I am at least 14 years old. I will never tell exactly!)”

Sadly, in December, the beautiful Annie lost her brave battle with canine cancer, and of course, Tammy and family are devastated. She will always be remembered and loved.

In true Tammy style, imagine our glee and tears flowing when we recently logged onto her RosyReports blog and discovered this:

His name is Titus. He is my new brother with fab highlights.I know some of you will be very surprised since we just lost Annie. And while our hearts are still broken, we found out about a dog that was also heartbroken after losing his family. So we decided we can help mend each other’s hearts and he now has his forever home.

Indeed, Rosy is honoring the life of another dog and welcomes the beautiful Titus home. Congratulations on being selected as a Pawer Woman, Tammy.

BTW, yes, Dexter did get to meet Annie, the two got along famously, and I will cherish these memories forever.

Learn more and follow along with Tammy and her pack at RosyReports.com and RosyReports on Instagram.

Rebecca Tolbert Smith: Dog Mom, Dog Rescuer, Online Mega Friend

Some people you never had the opportunity to meet in person, and yet you feel as if you have known them forever. You just click, and you know that when the day comes and you do meet, the connection of friendship will be instant. This is how I feel about Rebecca Tolbert Smith.

Rebecca and I first crossed paths on Instagram, as we are both mega Cocker lovers. Her account name recently changed on Instagram from “JacktheBlackCocker” to “JacktheBlackCockerandElliot,” and you can probably guess why.

Rebecca recently moved to Colorado with her family and we followed her adventures on the way. Her love for rescue dog, Jack, and her witty, funny comments are a bright spot to our days. They recently decided to add another dog to the family, a former trucker’s dog who was no longer wanted…and now has his happy ever after.

Beyond this love affair with Cockers and her big heart to rescue, Rebecca is one of the most loyal people I have never had the pleasure of meeting. She is forever tagging me, alerting me of things, sending folks to me for advice with dog issues, and is the true meaning of giving.

You can follow the Adventures of JacktheBlackCockerandElliot on Instagram.

Marlene Ness: Dog Show Pro, Dog Mom, Working to Eliminate Cocker Cataracts

I first met Marlene Ness at my 2016 fundraiser, Wigglebutts Uncorked, but Marlene and I have been online friends a pretty long time. I always admired her kindness, courtesy, and overall warm demeanor she presents to anyone she encounters. She travels the world with her dogs and is well know and revered in the dog show ring. In fact, here’s a photo of her gorgeous Cocker, Ace:

  Marlene works tirelessly to help fundraise so that cataracts in Cockers may be eliminated. So prevalent are cataracts in Cocker Spaniels that a molecular genetic study of inherited cataracts in the Cocker Spaniel has been underway. Cocker Spaniel parents simply take their dog to have their eyes examined and submit a blood sample to help find a DNA marker to eliminate cataracts in Cockers. This, in turn, helps humans who are affected by cataracts.

Interested Cocker parents can call OptiGen at 607-257-0301 or email at [email protected] for questions about sample submission. Also, visit the Optigen website for complete details. Marlene is helping with fundraising in this capacity, and Fidose of Reality recently partnered with the American Spaniel Club Foundation in an online auction that raised several thousand dollars. If you’d like to help, please visit the ACSF site for more information.

Join Club Cocker on Facebook, too!

Bryn Nowell: Dog Blogger, Visionary, Heart of Gold

Bryn and I have had an instant connection. You meet her and think she is this quiet, reserved intelligent gal, and then you get to know her and follow her online and she surprises you with wit, candor, a hysterical sense of humor, a passion for pets, and a true friend of the highest order.

Bryn is the brainchild of A Dog Walks Into a Bar, which is oh so savvy and a site you need to follow. Here’s how Bryn describes her blog, “A Dog Walks into a Bar will educate and entertain visitors by sharing informative and fun weekly posts that focus on pet ownership and the adult beverage industry.  We aim to share a variety of posts focusing on dog friendly locations and events, fun adventures, DIY projects, recipes, giveaways and charitable causes.  Our primary aim is to assist animal rescue organizations and philanthropic causes that help animals and our local community. ”

Bryn also will give you the shirt off her back, as she helps both animals and people in need. She is a rare combination of humility and humor and one of these people in this crazy world you meet and say to yourself, “now here is someone I can count on.”

From her fundraising efforts to homeless dogs, supporting our Wigglebutt Warriors fundraising events, emails and direct messages, snail mail, and more, Bryn Nowell you are the epitome of a Pawer Woman. I look forward to watching you grow and soar! P.S. She takes fabulous images, as Yoda and Bean showcase here:

Follow Bryn: A Dog Walks Into a Bar blog

A Dog Walks Into a Bar Instagram

Katharine McMahon – Marketing and Growth Expert, Dog Mom, Survivor

I’ve known Katharine McMahon through her attendance at BlogPaws Conferences, and I have met her many times, she and her Iggy, Duff. McMahon overcame some personal struggles in 2017 and granted herself the fresh start she and her dog so very much deserved.

Duff was diagnosed with IMT, which is immune-mediated thrombocytopenia, the same autoimmune disease that my dog, Dexter, was diagnosed with in October. Both dogs are in remission.

McMahon reached out to me, with everything she was going through, and extended herself, her resources, her knowledge, and her friendship. When a woman going through struggles and can reach out to help others in need, that is a true Pawer Woman and Wonder Woman to me!

Follow Katharine on Twitter

Get to Know Katharine on Chance to Grow

Dr. Laurie Coger – Wholistic Veterinarian, Dog Trainer, & Dog Lover

Dr. Coger, or Laurie as I call her, is the real deal. She loves dogs, imparts knowledge from a wholisitic standpoint, and over the years, we’ve developed an online friendship. Not only is Laurie a friend, but a trusted resource and thought leader.

Dr. Coger’s practice and dog care philosophy emphasize natural methods and care. She regularly integrates chiropractic, low level laser, herbal, nutritional, and physical therapy techniques into her treatment plans. She is a staunch advocate of raw, natural diets. Her first book, “Vaccines Explained: The Wholistic Vet’s Guide to Vaccinating Your Dog” is currently available on Amazon. She is well known in the media, having been featured in USA Today, Dogs Naturally Magazine, Pet360, PetMD, and numerous nationally known blogs and websites. She has been nominated for a Dog Writers’ Association of America award for her work in the Australian Shepherd Journal.

Laurie is the founder of The Healthy Dog Workshop, too. She gives pet parents an alternative way of looking at pet food, vaccines, and more. She more than deserves to be a Pawer Woman!

Get to know Dr. Coger: 

The Healthy Dog Workshop

Dr. Coger on Facebook 

 Nancy Brisebois: Dog Mom, Supportive Friend, Dog Lover of the Highest Order

Some people enter your life and you feel like it’s just simply meant to be. Nancy BG, as she is known online, is one of those people. Nancy is dog mom to rescued Cocker, Mayor, whom I self-admittedly have a dog crush on.

Nancy, however, is oh so much more. Hailing from Canada, Nancy is a Psychotherapist and Clinical Supervisor. She rescued her dog, Mayor, from the fine folks at OBG Cocker Spaniel Rescue, whom we have held fundraisers for several times. Nancy is one of the best and most engaged fans a dog blogger/dog writer like me could ever ask for. She is loyal, appreciative, leaves comments and tags me here and there, plus she genuinely uses the information we share. This gives us the warm fuzzies and all the feels in the world. Nancy, your love of animals, your commitment to Mayor, and the love and respect you show others online are some of the many reasons we are naming you a Fidose of Reality Pawer Woman.

We know this has been a rough year for you, and most recently, you donated to our birthday fundraiser to help homeless Cocker Spaniels. This small act is a huge example as to the mighty spirit you are. Oh and us Christmaholics, Elvis Fans, must stick together!!

Congratulations, Nancy! We love you.

 Amy Cox – Fashion Trendsetter, Dog Rescuer, Dog Mom, Shining Star

Amy Cox is the president of The Paws Cause in McKinney, Texas. I first met Amy at the Women in the Pet Industry Conference a few years ago. She is a dynamo who you remember.  She and her husband founded and developed The Shot Spot. Amy and her husband, Dr. Danny Cox, a Veterinarian, have traveled the United States and foreign countries including Mexico, Turkey, Greece, and Italy to participate and spearhead projects in animal rescue, disaster relief, spay and neuter programs and other animal related projects for over a decade.

She is a dedicated dog mom, travels the country with her pack, is well known in the pet fashion circuit, and is a genuinely kind soul. You know this the moment you meet her. I am honored to call her my friend. Congrats, Amy!

Learn more about The Shot Spot

The Shot Spot on Facebook: http://ift.tt/2q1gv5n

Learn more about The Pet Vet

Dolores Rodrigues – Dog Lover of the Highest Order, Founder of Abandoned Angels Cocker Spaniel Rescue

Dolores Rodrigues once told a reporter, “My goal is for people to share the same love and happiness that my first Cocker Spaniel, Rudy, gave me. He is my driving force and although this work can be very heartbreaking at times, seeing a dog get adopted into a loving family makes it all worthwhile.”

And oh how she shines and shares the love.

The mission of Abandoned Angels Cocker Spaniel Rescue, Inc. (AACSR) dba NY Abandoned Angels Rescue (NYAAR) is a non-profit 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to the rescue and re-homing of Cocker Spaniels and other dog breeds in need of loving forever homes. AACSR will not reject any dog due to age or health reasons and often accepts dogs with temperament and/or medical issues. AACSR relies solely on donations whether through adoptions or the generosity of the public to help pay for the veterinary care of sick, physically disabled, and behaviorally challenged dogs.

I have been a fan and friend to Dolores for many years, but something she did this year really touched my heart and will never be forgotten. When my Cocker Spaniel, Dexter, was diagnosed with an immune disease earlier this year, Dolores from Abandoned Angels Cocker Rescue called me and also called her vet for advice. She was one of the first people to reach out to me. So I dedicated my Christmas birthday fundraiser to Abandoned Angels Cocker Rescue.

Consider donating and learn more about Abandoned Angels Cocker Spaniel Rescue.

Dolores struggles with some physical ailments and that does not stop her from saving and rescuing and continuing to help dogs in need.

How You Can Help…

​The best way you can help us is to provide a loving, permanent home for one of our Abandoned Angels. Please also make sure that each of your pets is spayed or neutered. Spaying and neutering helps reduce pet overpopulation and reduces the risk of certain diseases, including certain types of cancer and pyometra in females. We are also desperately in need of foster homesfor our pups. Some of our dogs are boarded, which is not ideal for the dog (despite the wonderful care provided by our vet and his staff) and costly for us. If you cannot adopt or foster a dog, we also need: $$$$ (for food, boarding and vet expenses), collars and leashes, treats for the dogs, dog food Beds, blankets and towels dogwalkers, who are willing to socialize the dogs, help w/transport (to help with pulling dogs in more distant shelters and transporting area cockers to other rescues when we don’t have the space). Abandoned Angels Cocker Spaniel Rescue.

Congrats to the 2017 Pawer Woman from Fidose of Reality!!!!! Long may you shine, soar, affect dogs lives, and stay pawsome!

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