#anyway. happy one year birthday emi!! we love you!!

[mxwhore]

[keii-starz]

The Waves of the Eternal Sea

PROLOGUE: "A REFUGE"

author's note: so sorry to the people who wanted to read Tourmaline's story, and never got to!!! Instead, I gift you the prologue of a new story of mine to make up for it! It's set in fukuoka, japan! (have this while you wait)

divider by: @/saradika

Slowly losing my breath, I could barely feel like I had the strength and energy to run anymore. I wanted to run away so badly. I so desperately want to just abandon everything and just run away from this situation. School, poverty…barely being able to feed myself…having to put up with everything my mother says to me and every time she has a whole childish tantrum, sometimes for a reason I’m not even sure of. I’m just a kid! What is a twelve-year old like me supposed to do in this wretched situation?!

Though…at this very moment, as I stop to catch a breath and calm down, I realize I’m at the beach I’ve always loved visiting as a kid. A tear trickles down my face, as I recall all the happy memories I’ve had at this place. Somehow, just looking at the sea seems to calm me down instantly. Slowly, I sat down on the cool sand and wiped my tears, quietly enjoying the view of the sea.

Just moments later, I hear steps quickly rushing behind me, steps which sound like that of a small child. Then, that very child bumped into me. 

“--Ah! Oh…I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would be here at this time of the night..”

It was a boy..he looked of a similar age as me…or maybe as tall as the other kids at school would look. I could tell he must have been running away from something, too. Or maybe running from someone. He had a pretty appearance, but his eyes were red, and you could see how wet his face must have been from tears. It was obvious he was crying. It was a sad sight to see.

Looking up at the boy, I calmly said, “It’s fine. It’s not like I own this place anyway. I don’t mind. You’re here for the sea, right? If you want, you can just sit next to me and enjoy the view.”

At least, from my perspective, I seemed calm. The boy probably thought so, too. Without a word, he sat down next to me and started to stare at the sea longingly. It was a strange look on his face, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I had the exact same expression on my face, too. Maybe it was a few hours or so that had passed by, but it had been a long time since we started, and that was when the boy started a bit of conversation before he left.

“...How old are you? You’re smaller than me so you’re younger than me, right? Or you could be the same age as me, maybe. Sometimes people don’t look the age they are. Oh! Speaking of, what’s your name? I'm Shiro Aikawa!”

Shiro seems to be a pretty talkative boy..bright and positive, too. I do wonder what could have happened to him before coming here, but I’m sure it’s not my business to ask. I hesitated a bit before speaking, and looked up at the night sky for a bit, then looked back at him.

“M-my name is Emi..Shimizu, I’m…twelve.” Looks like my nerves are worked up again. Maybe I’m just not that used to speaking with other people yet. I was doing pretty good earlier.

Shiro’s eyes lit up. “Twelve! Woah! Hehe, we’re the same age! I actually just turned twelve today! Or yesterday? I’m not expecting a happy birthday or anything though, it’d probably have ended by now, after all. Plus, I think the sun is rising…”

“I-I see. Happy birthday. E-even though it’s over, I do hope you had a great one. I’m glad you got to see the sun rise, at least” I smiled at Shiro as I wished him a happy birthday.

He scratched his head a bit and chuckled. “Haha…well it wasn’t the best, but probably better than the other ones I’ve had so far. Still horrible, though. But seeing this pretty view and getting to talk to you made it better. I should probably get going now..It was nice to meet you.”

I nodded to him as I saw him slowly disappearing into the distance. I think…I may not be as alone, for now. I hope we’ll see each other again.

Eventually, we would get to see each other often, both upset with their lives, we ran to the sea. Sometimes, we would talk about our troubles, but not all the time. Other times, we would just leave each other alone and bask in each other and the sea’s company. The fish looked so peaceful swimming down there. Perhaps I could dare to even say there might be hope lingering by for the both of us in the future. All I knew, was that the sea…became our refuge.

@angelhairpastawithherbs @the-banana-0verlord @rayisalive @chocodaffodil @xxoomiii @red-viewe @officialdaydreamer00 @eynnwwyjth @cheezy-moon @crheativity

[damonjuicyscock]

To The End (Chapter 16: Out of time)

Pairing: 00's Damon Albarn x Reader

Warnings: Language, maybe some spelling mistakes.

Summary: You are Damon Albarn's ex-girlfriend. A few years passed, Y/N is now someone important where she works. Mina grew up, she's a very special little girl. A very special friend invites her to her birthday, and Y/N is very nervous about it. Some truths are revealed.

Words: 1690

A/N: Hello everybody ! I'm back, sorry for not giving you a chapter on Saturday but I was feeling unwell. Here's Chapter 16, oh believe me, you're going to want more ! B y The Way, I changed a little thing, as if Graham didn't leave the band in 2003, so the story is a bit different from reality. Hope you'll like this chapter !

Enjoy !

“Where’s the love song to set us free

Too many people down

Everything turning the wrong way round

And I don’t know what life would be

If we stop dreaming now

Lord knows we’d never clear the clouds”

5 years later-September 28th 2004-London

I went to pick Mina after school to take her to her piano lesson and something I didn’t expect happened.

- Hello my girl, how was school ?

- Super duper cool mama, I have a new friend!

- Oh!

- And I’m invited to her birthday this weekend!

I didn’t guess who it was at first, I didn't even know when she was born.

- Oh and who’s this friend ?

- Her name is Missy !

Oh shit. Okay, think about something Y/N.

- I’ll give my answer when I can love, I don’t know if I can take you there on Saturday.

She put her sad face. God, she looked so much like her dad. The same hair colour, eyes, nose and also his pouts.

- Hey Mina, I promise I’ll try.

Yes, I had accepted Graham’s proposal, I risked this so my daughter could be with her sister. Well step-sister, but anyway.

The thing is, I didn’t expect them to be friends.

I really had to think about it. Because I wasn’t ready to confront Damon.

I decided to ask Graham who would probably go with Pepper.

Once Mina was at her piano lesson, I went to Graham’s.

- Hello you ! He said, happy to see me.

- Hi Gray!

We hugged for a few seconds before letting me in.

- Pep's, Auntie Y/N is here !

The little girl ran to me.

- Hello little monkey ! Don’t run in the stairs, I don’t want you to hurt yourself if you fall.

- Where’s Mina? She asked

- At her piano lesson sweetheart. Graham answered before I could do it

- Oh. You remembered ? I asked

- Of course ! I note everything in case if on Tuesdays you can’t pick her at school.

- You’re a very good uncle Gray. Pepper, darling, you can go back playing with your toys, your dad and I have to talk about grown up person stuff.

- Okay auntie! She answered, before going back to her bedroom.

We went to sit down on the couch in his living room.

- Do you want something to drink? He asked

- Nah, thanks, I won’t be long. I have to ask you something.

- I’m all listening.

- She met her Gray. They’re friends and she invited her to her birthday on Saturday...

- Missy?

- Yeah... And I don’t know what to do. I want to accept, of course, because there’s no reason that I won’t be letting her go. But I’m not ready to confront Damon. Are you going ?

He sighed

- Yes Y/N, I’m going. But that’s a risk you accepted to take. She’s friends with her sister. And it’s been a few years. You know that when he’ll see he’s gonna ask questions right ? It’s not like It wasn’t absolutely obvious that she is his daughter. He said

- I know. But just one last time. Please Gray. Next time, I’ll do it. Moreover, I’ve got some work to do...Being a producer isn’t easy at all.

- Yeah, working for EMI is hard.

- I’m currently working with Kraftwerk for their live album...

- I get it Y/N, okay, I’ll do it. But only once, this is the last time.

I hugged him.

- Thank you Gray, I don’t know what I would do without you...

- It’s okay Y/N You’re my best friend.

- You are too.

- Speaking of something else, how does Mina’s piano lessons are going ? Ready to create some stuff like her father ?

- Soon she will be, she’s talented. I was surprised when she told me she wanted to take lessons last year.

- She's just like her father.

*

October 2nd 2004:

- What do you think about this Y/N?

- That it has to go to production Florian, this is a live album, it has been recorded right on the spot. And I know all your songs guys, I was raised with it. I answered

- OI! I heard a male voice say, entering the studio.

Liam Gallagher, what the fuck was he doing here?

- Excuse me guys.

I went towards the man.

- Liam? What are…

- I wanted to know if Mina wanted to come to the park with us. Lennon and Gene really want to play with her.

- I’m sorry Our Kid, Mina isn’t here today, she’s at a birthday.

- Oh ! Damn, soz Y/N. I didn’t want to disturb ya.

- Have you met Kraftwerk?

- Nah, not really me type of music, they’re good though. Will she be available next weekend?

- Probably, we’ll see, I’ll be really happy to come with you mate.

- Good, because Anais also wants to see her cousin, yeah?

- Yeah.

- So she has a friend huh? I know it has been difficult for her to make friends.

- Oh you know, she’s just too smart for certain kids, but she met someone yes. The one at whose house she is at the birthday party and I’m kinda worried.

- Why?

- If I tell you who it is, please don’t tell Noel and don’t be angry at me okay?

- Why would I have a cob on huh?

- Because she’s at Missy Albarn’s birthday.

- YER WOT? What the fuck Y/N?

- Yes I know…

- Are you daft apeth?

- Listen, I just wanted her to know her sister okay?

- Yes! But you didn’t want Damon to know your girl, you’re doing the opposite you twat!

- I know. But I’ll confront him if I must.

- Please Y/N, be careful, you can’t let him hurt you again.

- He won’t. I’m not the one I was 6 years ago Liam. I grew up.

*

- Oi Damon! Graham said when he arrived at Damon’s place

- Hi mate! Come in, where’s Pep’s?

- Here she comes, I came with one of her friends who’s also invited to Missy’s birthday.

Mina arrived behind Pepper. When Damon saw her, he was in total shock.

- Well…hello Mina…Missy told me a lot about you.

- Hello mister Albarn! Mina answered

- Call me Damon, love, I’m a cool dad.

- Okay! She answered, going towards Missy.

He looked at Graham, brows furrowed, and arms crossed, still in shock.

- Don’t you have anything to tell me? He said upset

- What?

- Don’t act like you saw nothing! She’s clearly a copy of myself when I was a kid!

- Maybe, I don’t know. Graham answered, nervous

- Graham, please, tell me the truth. Whose daughter is she?

- Oh, a friend I met when I was rehearsing in 1998. Her name is Joy.

- Was she a groupie or something?

- I really don’t know Damon, I never asked her, everything I know is that she had a daughter she raises alone.

- If you’re friends just like you say, when you first saw this little girl, why didn’t you ask who the father is?

- Because this is delicate Damon! She might not want to talk about it.

- Can I ask you a favour?

- Of course man.

- Plan a meeting with her mother. I clearly have a child I never knew I had.

*

- Thank you Gray, you saved me.

- Well not totally actually.

- He asked questions?

- Yes Y/N, he did. I even thought he was going to faint when he saw Mina, he became pale and he was clearly in shock! And you know I’m a bad liar. I think he knows there’s something going on. He asked me to plan a meeting.

- Okay… the moment has finally come…

- Yes it has. I don’t want to lie to him anymore Y/N, in particular if she’s Missy’s friend. So I ‘m going to plan this meeting. You can’t run away forever.

- You’re right…

- Does Mina start asking questions about her father?

- Not yet. But when the time will come, I’ll tell her the truth. Can you do something for me?

- It depends.

- I know he lives in Notting Hill. Tell him to meet me Tuesday at 5:30 pm at the Kensington Gardens Bandstand.

*

October 5th 2004:

I was walking towards my destination while smoking a cigarette. I won’t deny it, I was panicked. It had been 6 years since I last saw him. What could I tell him? How will he react? Well actually, what a rhetoric question, of course he would react badly…

As I gradually approached from my destination, my breath was getting shorter. Geez, why the fuck did I accept this? I just wanted to protect my child. I did the opposite, and now I was fucked.

I got into the park, observing families enjoying a good time, feeding ducks, playing together, joggers passing by people playing music, lovebirds kissing and looking at each other with so much passion… Everything I wanted to have with Damon but that was taken away from me.

It was hard forgetting him and not loving him when I was raising his look alike daughter who was conceived like this: with love.

I saw the bandstand and a man standing in front of it. It was him. Hair shorter than what I was used to, wearing a black leather jacket with a black scarf. He had a bit of beard. But he still looked like him, with his earring, his beautiful face, lips and perfect nose and jawline.

I was near him, and he didn’t see me yet. After all I also was different physically, I was the same height and weight, but my hair were longer.

Happily, out from my work, I could dress up freely.

That day, I was wearing a grey jacket, blue jeans and a pair of white converses.

That’s it, I was now standing quite next to him.

- Hello 2D.

He turned to see me

- Y/N?

[daegall]

Twitterpated

↳ to feel in love/love-struck

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Genre: fluff... uh... overall fluff 🤧

Warnings: mentions of death and a dead body (but nobody's dead), swearing (?)

Word count: 3.7k words

A/n: AYO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR SUN <3333 OUR BBY <33333 LOL I PROBABLY WONT BE HERE WHEN ITS ACTUALLY HIS BIRTHDAY SINCE ITS LITERALLY A DAY BEFOR EMY FINALS START 💀💀 SO ITS ON SCHEDULE </33

ANYWAYS YEAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY DONGHYUCK!!

alsooo this is part of the first collab made by @renhyucks (thanks bby <33) please do enjoy, and do not hesitate to tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or anything bad i wrote!! thank you!!

(guess who's expert procrastinator and wrote like 50% of this a week before his birthday AND finals </3 thats right </33 finals too </33)

You’ve been bragging about your braggable boyfriend for around a year now, and now you’re worried if you’ve bragged about him too much.

Today is the day. Donghyuck is going to meet your family. After months of postponing and delaying, he’s coming home with you for Christmas, a very big deal for your family, it’s like a big present for them.

"Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Hyuck I’m gonna die. I’m screwed. Tell them I love them.”

You were clearly overreacting, it can never be that bad. Your boyfriend snorts, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you two make your way up the stairs. You wish something happens within the short span of time until you get to the door.

“Babe it can’t be that bad, you’ve told them lots about me, right?” You shoot Donghyuck a quick glare, before nodding a bit reluctantly, “I think a bit too much though.” To your dismay there are no people around to stop you, nobody to stop and postpone the meeting for. Darn Christmas holidays. “Do you think they won’t like me?”

This time, it’s you who lets out a quick laugh, “No, they will love you. They’re gonna tell you all my embarrassing stories and phases in my life. Oh my god no, no no no, you can’t know. Let’s turn around, yeah?” Donghyuck ruffles your hair playfully with a shake of his head. “Really? But we’re already here! And I see your brother by the window there.”

You instantly light up when you see Sungchan’s familiar bright smile, laughing affectionately when he starts to jump up and down and yell something. Once you get in front of the door, you can finally hear what he’s been yelling, “JAEHYUN HYUNGGGG!!!!! THEY’RE HERE THEY’RE HERE!!!”

You don’t even have to knock on the door, it already swings open to reveal both your brothers with bright smiles on their faces, bright smiles that brightens up your own. “NOONA!” Sungchan rushed up to you and instantly wraps his arms around your waist, giggling into your chest as you embrace him back just as tightly.

He then turns to your boyfriend, with even lighter eyes, and to your surprise, he gives Donghyuck a hug as well, “It’s nice to finally meet you!” Donghyuck stumbles back a bit and is definitely startled, but eventually he becomes soft and wraps his arms around your brother with a small smile. “Y/n’s told me lots about you,”

Sungchan pulls away enthusiastically, jumping up and down, “Wait! Let me go get mom!” And in an instant later, he’s dashed into his house yelling out for his mother. Your eldest brother, Jaehyun, smiles brightly at the sight of Donghyuck tugging nervously at your hands, a light chuckle leaving his lips gloriously.

He walks up to you, and you spread your arms out for a hug, but all that happens is your hair you spent 20 minutes on getting ruined by him ruffling his hand through it. “Nice to see you’ve finally got it together and got a nice boyfriend, twerp.”

“G-good? I’ve always had taste, Jeffery!” You scowl and push your brother’s hand away from your hair, huffing and shaking your head to fix the messy mop of strands. Jaehyun then turns to Donghyuck, his eyes practically shining with stars when your boyfriend bows politely.

Jaehyun nudges at your shoulder, “Wow, you’ve got a good one.” He snickers when you groan and swat him away once again, before turning back to Donghyuck with the same smile as before. To your boyfriend’s shock, and definitely to yours, Jaehyun leans down to give Donghyuck a brotherly hug, almsot melting into his embrace. What is up with your brothers today?

Christmas music can be heard softly from in the house, and despite being outside you can hear Sungchan beckoning your mother to go outside to see you and Donghyuck. It warms your heart, it feels so raw, and it’s even better with Donghyuck by your side. Jaehyun quickly lets your boyfriend go, when your mother’s voice rings out nostalgically and warmly greeting you with a warm smile, “Y/n! How are you dear?”

You run into her arms with no hesitation, feeling especially excited after so many months of missing her. The feeling of home rushes over your senses at your mother’s familiar embrace, sighing when she clings harder and sways side to side. A delightful smile curls your lips upward as you mumble a small response, “I missed you so much,”

The second she pulls away she’s patting your cheek softly, chuckling, before she notices Donghyuck behind you. His nervosity is so intense that all your family members can sense it wherever you are, and you find it frankly funny. His eyes are practically shaking when your mom approaches him with slow movements. Sure, they’ve met through facetime, but that’s nothing compared to a face-to-face encounter.

A cheeky smile creeps up to your cheeks when your mother stretches out to grab ahold of Donghyuck’s hands, holding them gently. (you assume it’s because of how much they’ve been shaking) “It’s nice to meet you in person, Donghyuck-ah,”

At her soft words, you notice Donghyuck slightly melt in relief and comfort, his smile growing 2 times bigger, “Y/n’s told me so much about your family,”

Beside you, Sungchan tugs at your hand, “Let’s go inside, mom and I made cookies!”

Indeed, they made cookies. They made great cookies.

Donghyuck hums loudly in bliss the moment he bites into a freshly baked cookie, closing his eyes and leaning onto you, “You should learn to bake like Sungchannie, Y/n,”

From deep in the kitchen, you hear your little brother snort loudly, “I would teach her for free Hyung, trust me.”

A scowl is the only response from you, as you munch harshly on the (delicious, but you wouldn’t admit it) cookie and shrug Donghyuck off your shoulder. Your boyfriend cackles out at your pettiness, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you close to him.

You can’t stop the smile from spreading through your face when he tries to nudge another cookie at your lips, the ‘say aaa’s he says right by your ears resonating through your head. With a glance at the cute expression on his face, a light laugh falls from your lips, and you open your mouth to take a bite.

“They’ve been here for 15 minutes and are already all over each other.” At Jaehyun’s comment, you give him a dirty look and finish yet another cookie you stole from the fresh batch. “Hey! You were even worse with that random girl last year! Where is she now, Jae??”

Your older brother chuckles, walking over to help Sungchan and make sure he doesn’t burn himself, “She’s spending Christmas with her family this year.” You turn away from his teasing gaze with your head high up in the air, eyes shut in fake arrogance, “It’s your turn to suffer from the lovey-dovey stuff now.” (Sungchan grimaces in the corner, pulling his mittens off harshly, “When’s it not my turn?”)

“At least mom’s happy I brought Donghyuck home.”

“I’m happy you brought a good one this year, unlike the one 5 years ago,”

“THAT WAS A HIGH SCHOOL FLING! MY TASTE WAS BAD BACK THEN!”

Donghyuck chuckles and leans on the counter, resting his head on his hand as he gazes at your family argument, “Glad you don’t think I’m bad,” When you glance at him, and the soft look he has, you look away, flustered, “Hyuck you’re like.... my first good boyfriend.” Your voice grows quieter towards the end of the sentence, and suddenly you feel so flustered for some reason. The soft Christmas music fills the silence, and you grow even more embarrassed.

You turn your head cautiously to see the reactions of each of your loved ones, surprised to see a warm look in each of their eyes, as if they’ve seen a puppy tumble and get right back up. Your mother bites her lip to contain the squeals when you make eye contact with your boyfriend, choosing to continue her cookie work and look away when you shift in sheepishness and try to act nonchalant.

Sungchan decides to break the tension, placing the last batch of cookies in a jar, “Speaking of boyfriends, Shotaro’s brother is bringing his boyfriend when they come to visit.” Donghyuck breaks away from the sudden daze of love he had, turning to Sungchan with interest, “Really? So how many people are we expecting?”

“Around 3 more people,” Your little brother replies, “More if Sicheng hyung invited his Chinese friends as well.”

“Wow Sungchan, you’re quite the popular one aren’t you?” Sungchan smiles smugly at the sudden boast, proudly nodding as he tries to shrug cooly. You appreciate Donghyuck complimenting him, it’s not everyday your boyfriend gets along with your family, and definitely not always when Jaehyun greets him with a hug.

The next day, you wake up late (as usual after a movie night), and you go downstairs only to see your older brother and boyfriend eating their breakfasts next to each other on the couch as they watch yet another Christmas movies and talk about something.

They acknowledge you, but don't bother stopping anything to talk to you. You're glad they do, you wouldn't understand anything they would say with such a hazy state of mind. Pulling out a carton of chocolate milk from a big pack (presumably Sungchan and Shotaro's), you trudge back to the living area and sit on Jaehyun's usual spot.

There's snow outside, you notice, it's pretty thick. You don't realize in your half-asleep form, but both men have stopped talking and are now staring at your sleepy form.

"Y/n, you should eat actual food, and not just drink chocolate milk."

The statement is unexpected, and all you to is stop sipping and look at Jaehyun with questioning eyes.

"He's right, go eat some cereal, boo."

Your face scrunches up at the sudden pet name he would never use on you, already standing up to obey his orders, "Since when did you call me boo? Also, where's mom and Sungchan?"

"Since now, boo. And mom and Sungchan are out getting Christmas gifts."

Your heart leaps at the fact that Donghyuck called your mother 'mom' so comfortable already, you wouldn't blame him after last night when she was especially paying close attention to him and taking care of him nicely. Not to mention the fact that she added and added to his plate instead of her own children's.

You hum back as a reply, pouring some coco pops in a bowl (both the cereal and bowl are Sungchan's), before pouring in a generous amount of milk into the bowl. You smile down at the nostalgic breakfast you used to eat everyday, when was the last time you had cereal?

Instead of joining back to the living room, you decide to eat on the counter, which is right by the window, and admire the twinkling snow covering the ground. You live in the city with Donghyuck, which doesn't have that much snow, but here outside the city, the snow is so beautiful and evident, you just want to sleep in it like it was a warm bed -except it wasn't warm at all.

Still a little bit asleep, you don't notice Jaehyun in the kitchen with you until he speaks up and startles you once again, "You wanna go outside and make snow angels like we used to?"

Your shock bubbles into excitement at the suggestion, quickly nodding with a big smile on your face.

"Then eat up quickly, I'll meet you outside."

He leaves you alone in the kitchen, yelling a 'we're gonna go play in the snow, you wanna come man?' to Donghyuck, to which he gets a 'fuck yeah!' in return.

And like that your bowl of cereal is in the sink, long abandoned by you, the you who is currently throwing on your padded jacket and slipping on some boots hurriedly. You can already hear the yells of it being so cold from your boyfriend, and the loud boyish laugh from your beloved brother on the other side of the door.

You can feel the excitement coursing through your veins, it feels good, you haven't felt like this in so long. You finally open the door, and step outside onto the cold snow. Just as a blissful smile reaches your lips, there's a struck of ice cold trickling down your neck and back.

You turn to find the culprit is no other than Lee Donghyuck himself, laughing along with Jaehyun at your shocked expression.

You don't even waste a second, you're instantly picking up a handful of snow and patting it in your hands securely and creating an imperfect, but firm snowball. With no hesitation, you launch it into the air with all your force, and to your utter delight it his Donghyuck straight at his chest.

"HAH! TAKE THAT!"

Your celebratory dance is short-lasted, as you know if you stayed in spot for too long you would be attacked as well. With playful laughs and taunts, you rush past the 2 men and behind the tree for (poor) protection.

You need to make snowballs, you need to make them quick. Gathering as much snow as you can in your hands, you squeeze hard only for a few seconds, before gently dropping the snowball and repeating this process for as much snowballs as you can muster. You can hear the faint discussion of your temporary rivals, the more shuffling in the snow gives you that feeling of thrill.

There's a spilt second of silence, no shuffling in the snow anymore, no whispers of which side which will take. The second, is of course, like every other second, short, before you hear yells and feel the coldness of the snow hit your skin like gunshots.

Dropping all your snowballs, you act like it was a gunshot, falling dramatically to the ground as you clutch your hands to your stomach, "I've been shot! I've been wounded! Jae, Hyuck, tell Sungchan and mom my will is all to them."

"What about us?"

You pant dramatically and point at them accusingly, "You fuckers get nothing." Your head rolls back to the snow, your hand falling over your stomach as you hold your breath.

A fake sniffle falls from Jaehyun's lips, and he kneels down next to your 'dead' form, "WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!" He takes your hand in his, "WHAT HAVE WE DOOONNNEEE!!",Your boyfriend slowly falls next to your as well, this time cradling your face in his hands, "We're monsters.... WE'RE MONSTERSSS!"

He flops right on top of you, burying your body deep in the snow, "WE'RE SORRY Y/N, WE'VE LET YOU DOWN! WE'VE FAILED YOUUU!" A smile cracks through your numb, icy face, and you let out a hearty chuckle at the small skit you've started.

"Okay, get off me I'm cold!"

"No! You said you wouldn't give us any of your will!"

"Wait no! I'm starting to feel numb! I'm sorry I swear you'll get a little bit!"

Donghyuck shuffles a bit, before he carries himself off your body. The tingling ice cold sensation of snow doesn't fade away, instead it becomes even sharper when Jaehyun splats a pile of snow on top of your head. He giggles cheekily and runs back into the house when you send him a glare, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the snow.

To your delight he has the decency to at least help you up from your seat on the ground, thoughtfully brushing away the snow on your shoulders, "I like your brother, he's very playful."

You give him a quick look, "Reminds you of someone?"

Donghyuck bumps your shoulder as he laughs, rushing past you towards the house, "Race you there!"

Yes, reminds you exactly of Donghyuck.

It wasn't long until Sungchan's Japanese friend and his brother came. Just 3 days after you and Donghyuck arrived. And just like your little brother mentioned, his Japanese friend's brother brought his boyfriend. His boyfriend's friends decided to turn down the offer, instead wanting to spend Christmas with their own families.

You clicked with them instantly, and it's no doubt your boyfriend did either.

"Taro! You have to see the new soccer shoes I got for my birthday!"

The said boy gapes, practical stars shining in his eyes, "Soccer shoes? Dude, you have to show me some moves in them!"

The two lads scatter off upstairs to Sungchan's room, where you could hear stomping and loud thuds. You remember the first time you caught Sungchan practicing soccer, it was when you had enough with the loud noises and went to complain, only to find your brother covered in sweat with a ball in his arms.

Ever since that day you would help him, whether it was saving up with Jaehyun to get him his first ever pair or driving him to soccer fields and accompany him as he played, you've grown used to all of it (and grown to love it as well).

Jaehyun comes in the room with the collection of Christmas movies he had stocked somewhere deep in his room, you wouldn't dare going in there. Last time he had even cleaned it up or even actually lived there, he was in his angsty teenage days. There was no way you would go in there.

"Okay, what do you guys want to watch?" He stops right in front of the TV with 5 DVD's in his hands, observing each one with contemplation. "We've got A Christmas Carol, Home Alone, Polar Express, Love under the-"

"Oh God, not Love under the Christmas table!"

You snicker at Sicheng's upset tone as he slumps in his seat, rolling his eyes, "Ten's forced me to watch it soooo many times. And it's so cheesy too!"

"Jae has it just because of his girlfriend~" Jaehyun groans at your words, pointing a finger at your face in betrayal, "You promised not to tell anyone!"

This is what you like about Christmas, getting back together with family and friends, it's affectionate moments like these that you miss. You miss teasing your brothers. But the fact if it happening so rarely and only 3-4 times a year makes it extra special when you do.

"Shotaro! Sungchan! We're gonna watch some movies, what do you guys want to watch?"

At the mention of a movie marathon, both young boys look at each other briefly, before somehow telepathically agreeing on racing to the couch. They land next to you with belly-flops and giggles, hitting at one another as they shift comfortably in their seats.

"How about A Charlie Brown Christmas?" Jaehyun suggests with a friendly smile, looking up to the two boys for their confirmation. You thought they would agree, even you would, but apparently they had different plans.

Shotaro deadpans at the childish option, "Are you serious? What's a Christmas movie night without starting with Polar Express? I swear you adults have no taste." There's a nod from Sungchan, as he nudges for his best friend as some kind of hyping up action. They stop and laugh mischievously for a moment, elbowing and knee bumping, you don't understand at all. You miss having friends as a child.

You try to stifle your laugh at the look on Jaehyun's face, but you seem to fail so, a small snicker coming from you as he selects Polar Express with dark eyes. Your brother walks to his empty armchair, plopping down with a deep sigh.

Maybe Sungchan and Shotaro are right, Christmas marathons must start with Polar Express, It's just how it is. Or maybe A Christmas Carol, but that scared Sungchan so it's no longer and option.

At this point, you don't realize your mother and boyfriend walking in the living room from the kitchen, where your boyfriend insisted on helping with the dishes, the movie already captivating your attention as you stare at the familiar scene you've watched just so many times already. Donghyuck flops to the far left, next to Yuta, and instantly melts into the warm atmosphere, his attention adverting to the TV screen as well.

It's just halfway through the long movie when both young boys completely pass out, of course they weren't going to last that long. Shotaro is leaning on your shoulder, mouth open with small, quiet sneers pouring out his lips peacefully. Your younger brother is leaning forward next to his friend, occasionally nodding awake but falling asleep only seconds later.

You want to reach out past Shotaro and bring his head to your lap or something, but that would just wake the young boy on your shoulder. Instead, you just keep an eye out for him, and make sure to always check up on him.

Just to your luck, Donghyuck notices as well all the way from the other couch, and decides to take action when Sungchan almost face-plants to the floor. He swiftly stands up to pick your brother up to replace himself in the spot, and drape Sungchan's body over his as he secures him in a warm embrace.

At first, you're shocked and taken aback, Donghyuck was always unexpected but you never would have thought he'd cuddle your brother. It's a warming sight to see, 2 important people in your life being so comfortable and affectionate despite knowing each other only for a short span of time.

Donghyuck rubs Sungchan's back with care when he shifts in his embrace, eventually pressing his plush cheek flush against his shoulder, lips puckering out adorably.

A sudden wave of gratitude splashes over you like the waves washing up on the shore, towards nobody in particular. You're just very grateful for the fact that you have such a nice family, a warming family that will always welcome you with open arms whenever, grateful to Jaemin who introduced you to Donghyuck, grateful for having a chance to be in such an atmosphere.

This Christmas is very special to you, your boyfriend and your family meeting, you honestly thought they wouldn't like him that much, but now you're pretty sure they love him more than you do.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Akio

CW: References to the death of a friend, grief, suicide, murder 

Sequel to Found Out and this past flashback to Oliver Branch

The sound of thin, breaded pork cutlets frying in the big pan on the stove fills the air, and Akio breathes in the familiar smell where he lays on his back on his parents’ gigantic cream-colored sectional couch, stretched out across the whole length of it on one side. Not that he’s all that tall to take up all that much space, really, but what matters is that he would definitely have fallen asleep by now if it weren’t for holding his phone up over his face.

It fell on him, once, and he’s pretty sure no one noticed. Emi, his younger sister, hasn’t even looked up once from her own phone, except once to triumphantly announce that no one caught her and they all voted someone else off the ship. Then she looked back down and never looked back up.

Akio frowns, looking at his own screen, tapping his thumbs as he writes out an answer to the person messaging him. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?” His mother looks up from cooking, her eyes moving through the big open space right to him. They’d knocked down all the walls when they bought the house, open-concept-something-something. Akio didn’t care, but it was apparently deeply important to his parents. Something about family togetherness.

“You remember Tristan Higgs, right?”

Aimi pauses, tucks a bit of her short black hair behind one ear to get it out of her eyes as she flips the pork cutlets on by one, to get the other side nicely browned, too. The sizzling ratchets up in volume and then back down again. Next to her sits four bowls already filled with rice, and the table already has the vegetables ready to go. “Of course, honey. Oh, the anniversary’s coming up, isn’t it? I have an alarm set on my phone… did you want to go to the cemetery next week to see Ronnie and Paul?”

“Ew, no creepy graveyards for me, thanks,” Emi says, eyes still glued to her phone.

“We wouldn’t take you anyway,” Akio says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t even remember Tris or his parents.”

“I do, too. I was like seven. He was really nice. Mrs. Higgs was really nice, too. Mr. Higgs was weird.” 

“Wow, what a stellar eulogy that was, Emi. I can see why you want to be a writer when you grow up. The description there was just incredible.”

“Oh, go drive into a lake,” Emi says, without any particular rancor in her voice. 

“If you’re going to fight, I’m going to send you two upstairs so I at least don’t have to listen to it,” Aimi says, moving the cutlets to rest on a paper plate with paper towels lining it while she heats mirin, soy sauce, and… some other stuff in a different pan. Honestly, Akio has no idea exactly how katsudon happens, all he cares about is that it’s the perfect after-practice food and he is starving.

Except he keeps getting distracted by this guy on Insta. “Anyway, Mom, um, about Tris. So… yeah, I do want to go out and see his parents next week, yeah, but-... there’s this guy on Instagram who keeps asking about him. That’s… that’s weird, right?”

Aimi looks up, blinking. “Asking about Tristan? What is he asking?”

“Just like… he says he saw the video I put up on youtube, and he’s asking, like… what was his birthday, and did he like fried chicken, was he autistic, and… did he like musical soundtracks. This is weird stuff to ask a total stranger, right?”

“A little.” Aimi pauses while she watches the pan, and then pours a small bowl with beaten eggs into it, watching them spread and start to lighten to a puffy yellow as it cooked in the already-boiling liquid mixture. “Did you ask why he wants to know?”

“I did, but he just said he’s doing some research or something. But, like… research on what?” Akio taps on the guy’s little profile photo, bringing the profile itself up. “His username is benthebadmagician. Okay that’s-... that’s kind of cute.” 

Aimi’s voice turns sly. “Is this Ben cute?” 

“Ugh, gross, Mom. That’s not-... I mean he’s kind of-... that’s not important.”

“Ooooh, eyeballin’ the insta-hotties,” Emi singsongs. “Aki’s gettin’ desperate. Just get a freaking dating app like everyone else.”

“Already on it, Emi.”

“Then why exactly don’t you get any dates? Oh, right.” Emi sits forward and grins. “I forgot about your personality.”

Akio throws a throw pillow at her and the big orange poof misses by a mile. Emi laughs, getting to her feet and wandering over to the fridge, pulling a can of soda out and popping the top. “Aren’t you an athlete, how the hell did you miss that?”

“Language,” Aimi warns, waving a spoon at her daughter. She gently places the cutlets into the cooking eggs to finish up. “No swearing under my roof, young lady.”

“Aki swears all the time!”

“Aki is twenty-four years old,” Aimi says, almost primly. “And he doesn’t swear where I can hear him.”

“What, so it doesn’t count if you don’t hear him?”

“Of course it doesn’t, how do I know if I don’t hear him?”

Akio smiles, faintly, but he’s scrolling through the Ben guy’s instagram feed now. Just looking at the grid of squares, photos and videos. Lots of coffees and food, people laughing, photos of a girl with really pretty hair. Photos of Ben the Bad Magician himself. Nerd, Akio thinks, but cute nerd - definitely nose-in-a-book type. Nice brown hair, nice smile. 

“Oh look at that face,” Emi says, eyebrows raised. “Ben the Insta-Weirdo actually is cute huh?”

“Go eat slugs.” Akio keeps scrolling down and down, not sure what he’s looking for. Autism awareness banners - he checks those to learn the Ben guy’s got an autistic little brother, and his friend Christopher is autistic. There’s a couple slides, and he swipes his finger to what he assumes is a photo of the Ben guy with the little brother, who looks almost exactly like him, just a whole bunch younger and looking, unsmiling, off to one side while Ben grins at the camera.

Akio doesn’t bother checking the last slide - it’s probably just whoever the Chris guy is. He backs back out to the grid of thumbnails. Maybe he just picked up on the stuff Tris always did when he was excited, and got curious? Maybe his little brother liked the video? Akio’s gotten a couple comments from people saying they liked seeing an autistic kid just be fucking happy in public without getting shit on for it, and that used to be a big deal for Mrs. Higgs, too...

The question about musicals keeps snagging at him. Tris loved musicals, went through cycles with them. He and Akio had a whole routine done to a song in Hairspray, just for fun, when Tris was obsessed with that for a while. And then they were going to do the Time Warp as a routine once...

Akio keeps scrolling, only vaguely aware of his sister and mother talking, and Emi leaving the room to go call their dad in for dinner. 

Emi stops in the doorway and turns back. “Don’t forget to get his phone number, Aki. You can definitely trust strangers on the internet creepily interested in your dead best friend, right?”

Akio looks up, then, blinking at her. “Emi, that’s-...”

She seems to catch herself, and gives him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Aki. That got bitchy.”

“Language,” Aimi reminds her. “But I appreciate you apologizing. Does anyone even hear me say to use nice language any longer?”

“No,” Akio and Emi say in unison, and then Emi disappears down the hallway, bellowing for their father in her loudest voice even though she could easily walk up the stairs and not have to yell at all. 

Akio looks at his mother and deadpans, “Your daughter is really weird.”

Aimi matches him tone for tone. “Your sister is weirder.” 

She places the cutlets on top of the rice bowls with the egg just underneath the meat, carrying them one by one to the table, setting them each down in their place, and then grabs her glass of wine, patiently waiting for her while she cooked. She pads on bare feet across the hardwood floor over to the pale white rug, soft as down underfoot, and stands next to where Akio is laying down. “Are you looking at the profile?”

“I am, yeah. I don’t know what I’m looking for, really, just… hey, wait.” Akio stops at the thumbnail preview for a video, tapping to open it up. It starts with a blue-haired boy smiling, and his smile hits Akio all odd, makes his throat tighten and his heart start to race. The boy in the video puts up a finger and backs up, glances over his shoulder at a TV screen behind him playing the tango scene from Rent. 

Akio blinks as the boy holds out a hand and a girl with really gorgeous long wavy hair takes it, the two of them moving effortlessly into a perfect mimicry of the dance on screen. The room they’re in is mostly empty, furniture shoved to the walls to turn what looks like some kind of lobby into a dancing space.

“Wow, that kid can really dance,” Akio murmurs, but the smile catches him, tugs at the back of his mind. The blue-haired boy can’t keep the grin off his face, it has to hurt to smile so big for so long, and the last person Akio thought that about was…

“You got this, Chris!” Someone calls from offscreen, and for a second Akio hears Tris and catches his breath, but no, no, they said Chris. Someone else claps for Mari - that must be the girl, maybe. 

They continue to dance, and Akio can’t tear his eyes away. “Mom? Do you see this?”

Aimi looks up from straightening some magazines on the coffee table and leans over, sipping her wine absently. “See what, honey?”

“Look,” Akio whispers. His throat is closing up, he can’t manage anything more than that. 

The two do a spin, and then burst out laughing, and the Chris boy stands back up straight, throwing his arms up like he’s just hit a perfect landing-

“Oh my god,” Aimi says next to him, her own voice strangled and choked, and Akio feels his mother’s hand suddenly clutch onto his shoulder. “Aki, is-”

“He’s dead,” Akio whispers. “He killed himself after his parents-... he’s dead, Mom.”

The Chris boy looks right at whoever was filming the video, shoots them a brilliant, shining smile, and then starts rocking, his hands moving through the air and twisting at the wrists, bouncing up and down on his toes.

Akio’s breath is shuddering in and out, and his heart pounds, trying to break out of his chest. “He’s-... Mom, he’s dead.”

“His aunt had him cremated,” Aimi says, but her lips are barely moving and the wineglass is loos in her fingers. “After they found him. She didn’t want a funeral.”

“He’s dead,” Akio repeats, thinking of the smile, the movements, the shy way he ducks his head at the end when people clap him on the back. He backs up to the wall again, keeps scrolling, looks for more pictures of the blue hair. He opens every single one he can find, searching for something, some sign that will tell him he’s not seeing what he knows he’s seeing. “His aunt took his phone away after like three months and then he was dead a month later, wasn’t he?”

There’s a pause.

“Mom? Mom, didn’t he kill himself like four months after they died? Didn’t he?” Akio’s voice sounds weak and is getting weaker. “Mom, please-... please answer me, didn’t he-”

“He left a note,” Aimi whispers. “His aunt-... she said he left a note, that he couldn’t live without them. It’s-... I never thought-... I never thought to question her, Aki, I never-... she was Ronnie’s family...”

He clicks another video.

“You’re a fucking mess, Christopher,” The girl from the dance video says, sitting in a tank tops and shorts on the edge of a bathtub. “Letting your roots grow out like that. But don’t you worry, Madam Mari is here to help!”

“Please don’t, don’t don’t-don’t call yourself Madam. Please?” A voice says, uneasily, and the blue-haired boy moves into the screen. “For, for, for me?”

“Yeah, no problem, Chris. Why’d you let it grow out so bad, anyway?”

His hair’s not blue in this one - or it is, but only about half of it. Pale and faded, but the top of his hair has grown back in for about three inches, and it’s coppery strawberry blond. He turns to the camera and gives a sheepish smile. “I, I got distracted and for, um, forgot.”

Aimi’s wineglass slips from her fingers, hits the floor, sprays wine like blood across the pristine white rug. 

Neither of them notices.

“I… I cried for him for like a year straight,” Akio chokes out, and he finds more pictures, more videos, more more more. He opens them up and then backs out of them again, unable to stop himself. Every photo shows him some shard of the mirror reflection of a dead boy all grown up - a sparkle of green eyes, happy motions in the background of a video, more of that familiar sunny smile. “I kept-... I kept all the stuff he left in my room, I saved all h-his text messages from before he d, disappeared, I-”

“This can’t be him,” Aimi says in a fierce whisper. “It can’t be, Aki, it can’t.”

Akio taps on another video.

The boy ties his long blue hair back in it, glancing sidelong at the camera, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And, and, and you’ll, um, you’ll buy the, the, the-the-the nachos?”

“If you can still do it? Yeah, absolutely. Seeing that’s worth a plate of nachos to me. I’ll even buy you those fucking margaritas you like.”

“Chris just likes the sugar,” Someone else says, and Chris sticks his tongue out at them.

He takes a few steps back, rolling his shoulders, shaking out his arms. 

Akio tells himself that if the Chris on the screen doesn’t nail this, it can’t be him, it can’t be him at all. 

The boy puts his hands up, then down at his sides, back bowed briefly in a motion Akio knows too, too well, knows better than he knows breathing. The boy takes off across the grass without hesitation and-

Akio and Aimi both exhale.

-he jumps forward, dips at the waist, catches himself on his hands and does a perfect set of three backflips across a big grassy lawn, stumbling the landing but his feet pop right back into final position, and he throws his arms up with his chin lifted, and someone offscreen shouts, “Perfect Ten, Stanton!”

The boy laughs, shakes his head, says, “I’d be, be, be dinged for the, um, the landing, but-... but, but good, right? I did good? Laken?”

Someone with the coolest hair Akio has seen steps into the screen and they hug, kiss briefly, and then Chris apparently can’t handle the happy emotions because he backs away to start bouncing up and down, grinning.

He looks back at the camera. “Want to see me, me, me... me do it again?”

“He’s not dead,” Aimi says, and her voice sounds like someone closed their hands around her throat. “Oh, Ronnie-”

“What the fuck happened to Tristan fucking Higgs?” Akio’s voice is barely audible over the sound of the video starting over. “He’s… he’s not dead. He’s not dead, Mom, he’s not-... he’s not dead, Mom, he’s not dead and he’s right-... that the university, right? He’s not dead, and he’s, has he-... has he been here the whole fucking time?”

His mother doesn’t chide him for language this time. Her hand tightens on Akio’s shoulder as red wine soaks the rug beneath her feet and she whispers, “Give that Ben boy your number. Tell him to call you.”

Her fingernails ache where they dig into his skin through his shirt.

“Now.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript

[phoenix-downer]

After Ever After Part 2

~2000 words. Post-Canon. Family AU, SoKai Parents AU. 

Summary: Sora and Kairi have their family and their happily ever after, but tensions arise when their children are older and want to know about their parents' pasts.

You can read Part 1 here and Part 3 here.  

Sora got about a half an hour alone with Kairi the next morning before they were interrupted by their youngest.

“Mommy? Daddy? Are you awake?” Emi called through the locked door. “I’m hungry, and Miyu and Haruto aren’t up yet.”

“Yep, hang on,” Sora called, fighting the urge to groan, and Kairi giggled as he tried to locate his boxers.

“Sometimes I miss being able to lie around in bed with you all morning,” he muttered as he pulled them on. 

“I miss it too,” she said as she handed him his shirt. “But those days will be here again before you know it, and then you’ll miss the incessant little knocks on our bedroom door.” 

“Don’t know about that,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll miss our kids, yeah, but I won’t miss our time together being interrupted.” 

Kairi pulled him back for one last kiss, then he tucked the covers over her so she could get a little more rest before throwing on some sweatpants and padding to the door.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he said as he cracked it open and Emi’s adorable face beamed up at him. She was holding her favorite stuffed animal, a teddy bear named Mr. Snuggles, and he smiled and ruffled her hair.

“Morning Daddy.” She found his hand and wrapped her small fingers around a couple of his fingers. “C’mon, let’s get breakfast started!” she urged as she tried to drag him out of the room. Then she paused and beckoned for him to lean closer, so he knelt till they were at the same eye level. She leaned in close and loudly whispered, “We can surprise Mommy with breakfast in bed!” 

Sora glanced back at Kairi and winked, and she was beaming. He sighed happily. A single smile from her was still enough to make him melt.

“Daddy, stop making lovey-dovey eyes at Mommy, you can do that later,” Emi scolded, a pout on her face. She had inherited her father’s pouts, and Sora had to admit, they were a powerful weapon. 

“Alright, alright,” he said with a laugh as he followed after her. “But it’s important that Mommy and Daddy get to spend time alone together.” 

“Why?”

“It makes our marriage stronger. And a strong marriage is good for the whole family.”

“Why?”

Ah, the joys of having kids. They never, ever stopped asking why. 

“Because Mommy and I are a team,” he said. “Remember Miyu’s volleyball game yesterday? She and her classmates were all a team too. What do you think would’ve happened if they hadn’t worked together?” 

Emi thought for a moment. “They wouldn’t have won.”

“Exactly. Mommy and I need to work together too if our family’s gonna win at life. And spending time alone together helps us work better together.” 

“Why?”

Sora sighed. Time to admit defeat on this one. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he muttered as he went to the sink to wash his hands. 

Emi helped him crack the eggs and mix the batter for the pancakes. Sora wanted to make sure all of their kids knew how to cook, so he was glad Emi had taken so enthusiastically to it. She was daddy’s little helper, and she did everything she could to help out with meals and chores. Haruto had to be practically bribed to do his share, and Miyu did hers without any enthusiasm, usually while wearing a sullen expression on her face. 

It didn’t always used to be like that, of course. Miyu used to love helping him cook and clean, and even Haruto used to enjoy his chores if Sora turned things into a competition somehow. Now they avoided him except when they had to be around him. 

“Daddy, you’re staring off into space again,” Emi said with a scowl as she handed him a spatula.

“Oh, sorry, I just have a lot on my mind.” 

“I don’t like it when you’re sad,” she said. “It makes me sad, too.”

“That’s actually a good thing, believe it or not. It means your sense of empathy is developing nicely. I don’t want you to be sad, of course, but if you can tell how people are feeling, it means you can help cheer them up.” 

“What can I do to cheer you up?” she asked, her face very earnest and serious, and Sora wanted to hug her, she was being so thoughtful and sensitive to his feelings.

“Just keep being you,” he said with a smile. “Being with you always brings a smile to my face.” 

She giggled and beamed up at him, and his heartache eased a little. Yeah, Miyu and Haruto weren’t happy with him right now, but at least Emi still adored him. He’d try to do better with his older kids and give them the space they needed, and hopefully that would help repair his relationship with them.

That and… telling them what he and Kairi had agreed to finally tell them. What would they think when they finally knew? Would they treat him differently? Act weird about it? Would they understand why he and Kairi had waited so long to talk about what had happened?

Well, no use in torturing himself with worry. They’d all cross that bridge when they came to it.

When the food was ready, he and Emi made up two plates for themselves and covered the rest of it up so it would stay warm for the others. They’d be down soon anyway, if past experience was any indication, and Kairi was in the shower, so breakfast in bed would have to wait for later. 

“Emi?” he asked as she cheerfully ate her eggs. 

“Yes Daddy?”

“I’d… like to tell you a story. About a princess and a… a guardian.” 

Emi brightened. She loved stories about princesses and castles and dragons. 

“Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived on a faraway world. She was very kind and caring, and everyone who knew her loved her. But then one day, an evil sorcerer—”

Emi tilted her head. “Sorcerer?”

“Um, an evil wizard guy. That’s what a sorcerer is.” 

“Oh, okay. Keep going, please.”

“An evil sorcerer kidnapped the princess and stole her away. The princess was… very scared, and very lonely, but—”

“Daddy?” Emi asked, her eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just… can’t help but feel bad for the princess, you know? I know how scary it must’ve been for her.”

Those words were more true than Emi could ever know.

“That’s because you have empathy,” she said, very matter-of-factly. 

He smiled at her. “That’s right, sweetheart. Anyway, the princess was lonely and scared, but she wasn’t without help. She had a magic necklace that could take her to someone who would look after her and protect her.” 

“Did it work?” Emi asked, clearly invested in the story now.

Sora nodded. “It did. The magic in the necklace brought her to Des—I mean, it brought her to another world. A world with a guardian.”

“Ooooh, a guardian!”

“That’s right,” he told her. “And that guardian promised to protect her and keep her safe.”

“Did he?”

Sora was silent for a while. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Yeah, he did. But it… wasn’t easy.”

He wasn’t sure how much more he should say. Telling his seven-year-old daughter that her father had become a Heartless at fourteen and was dead before his sixteenth birthday didn’t… feel like the right thing to say. Neither did telling her that her mother had lost her heart, had gotten kidnapped multiple times, and had been as good as dead before her sixteenth birthday, too.

“But he did it, right? He kept her safe?” Emi said.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, he did in the end.” He smiled as he thought about his beloved wife. “And to him, everything he went through was worth it.”

“Ooooh, he loved the princess, didn’t he?” Emi said with a huge grin on her face. “I can tell, your face gives it away!” 

“He does. He loves the princess very much,” Sora said softly.

“Just like you love Mommy!” 

He smiled and nodded. “Just like I love Mommy.”

“And the princess loved the guardian too, right?”

“She does,” came a new voice. Kairi had joined them in the kitchen, and she glanced at him and smiled as she helped herself to some eggs and bacon. Sora didn’t care how many times he’d heard her tell him she loved him, it made him turn into a sappy puddle of emotions every time. 

“Wait, you’re the princess Mommy?” Emi said, looking in confusion from Kairi to Sora back to Kairi.

“I am.”

Emi thought for a moment. “Then… does that mean Daddy’s the guardian?”

“He is,” Kairi said as she joined them at the table. She reached for Sora’s hand and held it, and he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. “He’s my very brave, very loyal guardian. Of course, when he married me, he became my beloved prince, too.” 

“Phew, I was worried it would be someone else.” Emi said, which made Sora and Kairi both chuckle. “What?” she said, tilting her head. “Mommy, you have to love Daddy. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t. And Daddy, you have to love Mommy too.” 

“We do love each other, very much,” Kairi said as she squeezed his hand. “But it’s because we want to, not because we have to.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Out of all the people in the universe, your mom chose me.”

“And out of all the people in the universe, your dad chose me,” Kairi said as she gazed into his eyes, then sighed happily.

“You and Daddy are making lovey-dovey eyes at each other again.”

Kairi smiled and looked at Emi. “It’s because he’s so brave and handsome and strong! There were all these monsters he had to fight, and then of course he had to face that sorcerer that wanted my magic powers all to himself.”

“Tell me more, tell me more!” Emi squealed. 

Just then, the alarm on Sora’s Gummiphone went off. Talk about bad timing.

“Shoot, I forgot I was supposed to take that casserole over to my parents today,” he muttered as he silenced it. 

“I’ll take over from here,” Kairi said. “I’d like to give the princess’s perspective on a few things.” 

The prospect pleased Emi greatly, and Sora shot Kairi a grateful look. Emi didn’t like storytime being interrupted, and thankfully it wouldn’t be this time. 

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” he told Kairi as he fished around in the fridge for the casserole and extracted it. 

“I’ll hold down the fort,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. 

“I know you will.” 

He gave her a quick kiss and was out the door. A part of him was relieved Kairi was taking over storytelling duty for now. The truth behind those stories… even though he’d agreed to share it, a part of him still wanted to protect their kids from it. He also didn’t want them to look at him differently or wonder if he would forever hold his sacrifices over their heads. And whether they knew it or not, they would soon be gazing into the deepest parts of his heart. What would they think when they found it was littered with scars? Scars born out of love, yeah, scars he was proud to have because it meant this family was even possible, but scars nonetheless. 

The prospect made him feel desperate and vulnerable when he wanted more than ever for their kids to think he was strong and steadfast. That was what dads were supposed to be, the rocks and anchors for their families. If he wasn’t that, then what was he?

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A/N: I hope you all are enjoying the story so far! There’s one more chapter to finish things up, which will be posted soon. Stay tuned! 

[strongbrew-hamstery]

I can hardly believe it, but a very Happy Birthday to my one and only #Bliss! One year ago today, Emy gave birth to one solitary pup. Perhaps there were siblings, but knowing Bliss, she probably ensured she would be the sole pup. 😂 After she was born, we needed to go on a trip to Ottawa so we left Bliss and her momma Emy (as well as most of the SBH hammies) in the dutiful care of our friend @andrea_l36 and her hubby. They took such wonderful care of her, and were even able to snap a video of her first time escaping the nest! When we got home, I checked on Bliss (who was 13 days old, and close to opening eyes). Unfortunately I found several large wounds on her. My assumption was that Emy had been overly rough with her unintentionally. With just one pup, and feeling stress over her leaving the nest, she must have been a bit tougher than she meant to. I agonized over what to do, and finally decided to pull her and handraise. I just knew I wouldn't forgive myself if I left her with Emy and she was hurt worse. So, I set up my small NICU carrier and got to work. Bliss would spend the next few weeks coming to work with me. Especially during the first week, she needed multiple feedings and I needed to keep an eye on her. My desk had a special space for her heating pad and carrier and she quickly became one of the most interesting things at work. 😅 I am so lucky to have such an amazing job! Bliss enjoyed her time at work, especially when it involved being fawned over by my coworkers. She even came to my pottery classes! We eventually got her a surrogate mum, a stuffed unicorn we named Joy. She loved Joy so much until one day she ripped her hoof open. I pulled Joy intending to fix her immediately but never got around to it. Hammy Grammy actually fixed her last Tuesday. Anyways, I tried to reintroduce Bliss and momma Joy, but Bliss was mostly interested in eating her. So. I remember being so relieved when she opened her eyes and I knew she would thrive. I had been cleaning her wounds best I could and they had healed. While she does have scars (hairless areas) where those wounds are, she is otherwise perfect. Happy Birthday Blisserbrat! I love you so much. 💗 https://www.instagram.com/p/CEJ_pV-AlNy/?igshid=1qn4br84pdfp2

[live-love-laugh-lesbian]

Choose Me Again

(I posted this on ao3 like, a month ago or so, but not on here-)

Summary: Emile Picani is born without a soulmate mark, a "Spare". Thankfully he meets someone who doesn't care about the rules, and has enough overconfidence to pull off a fake soulmate mark for far too long. Emile can't help but fall in love with that sort of person. Maybe his brother was right, Deceit really is a bad influence.

Words: 5,643

Emile Picani was born without a soulmate, just a blank wrist.

His parents were a typical love story in their world. They met young, their names burning bright on their wrists, shock and awe and excitement as they realised they’d found their soulmate. They stayed together through high school, of course, and got married as soon as they finished university. His mother wore a pretty mermaid tail white dress, his father had gushed over how lucky he was to have such a beautiful soulmate, and two years later they’d had Emile’s older brother Logan, who was born with the name Roman Prince on his wrist in deep red. It sparkled in the sun, and Emile swore there were flecks of gold within it.

 But then Emile was born, pale blank wrists, a doctor reassuring his parents that many people don’t develop their marks until later. That he had one patient who got it at “the cut off mark”, and how lucky they were, how close they were to not having one!

 So his parents relaxed, assumed he’d develop one in due course.

 He was three when he first realised he was “different” than his family. Logan was only two years older than him, and really didn’t understand as much as he’d like to pretend.  So when Emile traced over the curves of the R and asked why he didn’t have a name, Logan had said they were still looking for someone good enough for him.

 Emile found it funny, had blushed, made some high pitched squawking noise, and continued playing. His parents overheard, and used it as the reason whenever the question came up. Anything to make their son feel normal.

 Emile went to playgroup, met a variety of children with a variety of names. Only a couple didn’t have theirs yet, but they were too young to really understand why it was such a big deal.  Em  ile met  Remy there,  a boy with pitch black letters scrawled over his wrist, deep and inky.

“October,” Emile reads proudly, “I don’t know anyone named after a month though...”

 R  emy shrugs,  picks up  a pen and starts doodling over a sheet of paper, as blank as Emile’s arms.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s a dumb name. Yours is cooler.”

 E  mile smiled, gap toothed and  rosy cheeked,  looking forwards to the day he met someone with his name on them.  He liked to imagine it as pink and bubbly,  maybe with a sparkle like his brothers.  He started looking at his wrist more often, imagining  the name that would appear.

 B  y the time the year ended and he had to start school with Remy, he was the only person he knew without a name. Just a blank wrist.

“It’s ok,” his mother reassures him, “my grandmother didn’t get hers until the cut off point. She was thirteen! A day later and she’d have been a Spare!”

 Spare.  Emile doesn’t understand the word as an insult, but Logan does, and he understands  that it’s bad the day Logan comes home complaining  a kid called Emile a Spare.

“Like a spare pencil?” Emile asks, almost hopefully, “you know, in case you need an extra one!”

 H  e was young, but old enough to recognise pity.  He sees it in how his mother smiles sadly, his brother runs a hand through his hair, and his father nods.

“Yes, Emile. Like...a spare pencil.”

 R  emy  works it out before him, of course, the two sat under a tree  reading  when Remy blurts out that  his mother thinks Emile’s a Spare.

“She says you’re not gonna get a mark,” he says, “but she’s wrong. You’re not a Spare, don’t worry.”

“What’s a Spare?” Emile asks, “people keep saying the word, but I don’t get it.”

“Just means someone without a name. They used to believe it was the universe making sure there were people left over in case of death or something,” Remy says it like he’s been told it a million times, “it’s sad. I’ve never met a Spare before though. Maybe they don’t exist.”

“Maybe,” Emile agrees, and closes the book he’s reading. He finds himself drifting to books and shows without romance in them. He knows he’s not a Spare, but it doesn’t hurt to take his mind off things.

 H  e likes cartoons, he discovers.  Where he can ignore romance, if there’s any,  and focus on the action, the characters.  He likes Steven Universe. He likes that even though  Sapphire and Ruby are in love, he doesn’t have to focus on it.  Besides, most cartoons didn’t have  soulmate marks.  Most of them.

“You’ve got time,” his mother reassures him when he mentions this, “and we can take you to see a doctor if you’re worried.”

 He doesn’t like that, the idea that he should see a doctor, that something is  wrong  with him.  He tells this to Logan,  who presses a kiss to his forehead and tells him  he’s perfect, that  nobody deserves their name on his wrist anyway.

“Soulmates are a ridiculous concept,” Logan tells him, emphasising the large words proudly, and Emile giggles because he’s seen Logan pondering dictionaries in his spare time.

 (  He giggles a little less when  Logan comes home  talking about the new kid at school, about how he’s called Roman Prince, about how Logan’s name  looks like a galaxy on his wrist and it’s beautiful.)

“Yeah, well, you’ve always got me,” Remy says with a grin, “romance sucks. You’re safe from hearing about it with me.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” Emile replies, but is grateful nonetheless.

 T  hey spend their days  complaining about their teacher,  doing homework in thick  coloured pen,  then  playing Crystal Gems  in the local park.  There’s no expectations, and  nobody looks too long at Emile’s blank wrist  for it to be a bother.

 H  e’s eight when he sees a Spare for the first time.  An elderly woman  with a  bright spotted  walking stick,  a pink shawl around her shoulders.  He stops to  fanboy over her  Pearl keyring,  talking about how much he loves that show, talking about cartoons and  fantasy novels.

“Such a bright boy,” she tells his parents, and he puffs his chest out proudly, “though he’s wrong, the best fusion is definitely Opal.”

 E  mile is so busy spluttering and  trying to argue that he almost misses the sight of her bare wrists,  no names written on  her dark wrinkled skin.

“Mummy, she was like me,” he says.

“Yes, you both liked your cartoons!”

“No, mummy, she had a blank wrist!”

 L  ogan tells him he shouldn’t have said it, that it was rude to point it out. His mother starts crying,  saying that  the woman was different,  that Emile wasn’t a   Spare  .  Later his father tells him to be careful with what he says,  even though Emile is confused.

“Why is being a Spare so bad?” he asks.

 (  He sees an announcement that a cartoon loving woman is dead three weeks later in the newspaper. A funeral is arranged by her estranged brother, but  when Emile goes past the funeral that day he notices the only people to turn up are the brother and his soulmate.)

 H  e hears more people say the word now he’s getting older. He’s half way to the “  cut off” point, and there are whispers. The other kids talk behind his back at school, and the whispers follow him home,  where he lies awake at night hearing  his parents sob about how they have a  Spare  as a son.

“Ignore them,” Logan tells him, “you’ll get there when you get there.”

He watches Logan laugh at Roman’s jokes, watches Roman listen to Logan’s music choices, the two watching musicals and sci-fi films on YouTube at every given chance. He’s happy for his brother, and agrees that his name looks like a galaxy against Roman’s wrist. Purple and black and blue, but shining brighter than any star he could name.

 E  mile dives further into cartoons and fantasy, away from  the love of his parents, his mother’s name s  carlet and  bold, his father’s  milky and  bright as the moon. Away from the love of his brother and Roman,  red and galaxy mixing beautifully when they link arms.  Away from the world of soulmates,  so he can pretend  he’s normal.

 R  emy is always there, always  arguing with people over whether Disney should s  top using soulmate marks  in their shows.  Does it matter who Moana  is  destined   to be with, after all?  But Emile doesn’t mind so much, content to watch fantasy people  have fantasy adventures, content to imagine that the concept of soulmate marks is just part of the fantasy.

 R  emy meets October in the summer before they start middle school.

 They’re playing on the swings, excited  to be moving up in the world.  And then a boy  with wild black curls comes up shyly, holding out his wrist,  where Remy’s name  is scrawled  in messy capital letters,  the colour of ground coffee beans.

“October?” Remy asks, and Emile knows he’s the second choice from then on out.

 T  o his credit, October   –  or Toby, as he likes to be called   –  is lovely.  He passes no judgements on Emile’s blank wrist,  never mentions the concept of  Spares  , and  turns out to be a Disney fan.  He fits into their group seamlessly,  as natural as the rise of the moon,  and Emile  knows Remy’s never been happier.

 M  iddle School is a nightmare. Emile quickly realises he’s the only one in the building with a blank wrist, and finds himself hiding it under cardigans and bracelets.  He pretends to be shy, changes topics from soulmates to  cartoons, and makes sure to clap and respond politely when people around him start meeting their soulmates.

“I get it, it’s a big deal for them,” he assures Logan, who looks so concerned these days, “if they’re as happy as you and Roman are then that’s all that matters!”

“I’m happy if you’re happy,” Logan tells him, and hugs him tightly.

 B  ut Emile’s thirteenth birthday approaches   quick,  and Emile’s parents are on edge, each day checking his wrist, sometimes subtly, sometimes just grabbing it outright.

“He’s a Spare,” he hears his father sob, “was it something we did, do you think? I read that too much sugar in infantry-”

“Maybe I ate too much fish whilst pregnant with him?” his mother suggests, “some people say-”

 T  hey don’t know Emile can hear them, and Emile feels bitter when they pretend to be happy the next day. He wants to call them out, but fears their reactions too much.  What if they’re angry with him? What if they decide it must be his fault?

 H  e’s crying a week before his thirteenth birthda  y  alone in the toilets at school.  He’s supposed to be  at  Band,   but instead he’s  wishing he had a name instead of just a blank wrist.

“What’s wrong?”

 He looks up at the voice,  vaguely recognising the kid looking at him.  They share a few classes, he’s pretty sure.  A boy with dark hair,  dark eyes   and vitiligo across his  dark  face.  If not for the flashes of yellow  in his clothes he could blend  in with the night better than Lapis Lazuli with the ocean.

“I’m a Spare,” he whispers, wiping his eyes, “I turn thirteen next week and I don’t have a name. My parents are going to be so disappointed.”

 T  he boy hums, and  Emile sees  the name  Virgil Knight   flash across his wrist,  patchy purple and swirly.

“Parents suck. Does it matter that much that you have a name?”

 Emi  le shrugs. “Logan says it doesn’t, but my parents  d  isagree.”

“Logan Picani, right?” the boy tilts his head, “he’s the kid dating Roman, the drama club guy?”

 E  mile nods. “My brother.  I’m Emile Picani.”

The kid hums, then grins, walking over and grabbing Emile’s arm before he can protest. Out comes a pen, and then Emile has Deceit Hart on his wrist.

“Well, Emile, looks like you have a name. And yes, that’s my real name. My mother was angry because dad cheated on her, and I got the lifelong reminder.”

 He says it dryly, but also tiredly, as if he’s had to  explain this a hundred times. And if he’s telling the truth, then  he probably has.

“Later, Emile.”

 H  e rushes home to show them his “soulmate mark”.  Logan looks suspicious, but plays along, whilst his parents gush, too happy and relieved to question why it looks a little more inky than the average mark.  Roman is there, and leans  over.  The drama club guy.

“Hey, Deceit. I know his brother!”

Remy insists that Deceit start joining them at lunch. After all, Toby did, so Emile’s soulmate should as well! And Emile is certain that Deceit is going to spill the beans, out Emile as a Spare, but instead he grins and accepts the invitation, fitting in with the group so casually that Emile is almost convinced he really is his soulmate.

Deceit goes over the lines every day, and his own sleeves get longer, covering the name Virgil Knight, so nobody can argue that the two are soulmates. Emile feels bad for Virgil, whoever he is. He tries bringing it up with Deceit, pointing out that he can’t lie to his future soulmate.

“Virgil can deal with it,” the boy says dryly, “you can’t be the soulmate of someone called Deceit and not expect a few lies, can you?”

Three months later his parents insist on meeting Deceit, wanting to know what their son’s soulmate is like. Roman talks about Deceit’s brother, a kid in his and Logan’s year called Patton, who Logan speaks fondly of as well.

“I admit, I didn’t know Deceit had you as his soulmate,” Roman says, “I would’ve thought I’d noticed!”

Emile tries to laugh, but the lie still tastes bad on his tongue.

It doesn’t stop him helping to cover up Deceit’s soulmate mark with make up, then going over the now-blank wrist with a pink sharpie, his own name now looping over someone’s wrist.

“Pretty,” Deceit comments.

“I guess.”

Emile introduces Deceit to his parents, and Deceit is perfect, on his best behaviour, smiling and cracking jokes and showing interest in everything his family says. Emile wishes Deceit really could be his soulmate, and wishes he could be sure that Deceit isn’t lying about, well, everything.

“See? Not so bad. And now your name is on someone!” Deceit grins afterwards, holding up his wrist, the pink still as bright as it was when Emile first applied it.

“I feel bad lying though,” Emile mutters, “and what are you going to do when you meet Virgil?”

“I’ll just discuss it with him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Deceit says it confidently, and Emile thinks that’s his favourite part about Deceit. The confidence. Deceit never hesitates, never backs down, never hides how he feels. He’s chosen to represent their year group in a debate competition, along with Toby, and the two go to the finals against Logan and Patton.

(Brother versus brother!)

Logan reassures Emile that it’s ok if he wants to support his soulmate rather than his brother, and Emile can’t help but resent the statement.

But he supports Deceit regardless, because he’s convincing. He’s loud and convinced from the start that his side is right.

It’s a silly debate, really. The school have tried to keep it light, so two thirteen year olds are arguing that you should skip a wedding to go for an interview for your dream job, whilst two fifteen year olds argue that you should go to the wedding and support your friends.

“He believed in egoism – or, acting in your own self interest,” explains Deceit, smirking because he’s got everyone’s attention.

“But that’s wrong!” Patton protests, whilst Logan looks annoyed at having to reign in someone so emotional.

“No. You’re wrong.”

Emile’s heart flutters a little at how confidently Deceit can say such a bold statement – and to his own family member!

Deceit and Toby win, though really all Toby did was agree with what Deceit was saying. It was to be expected, in a way, because Deceit manages to get Mr Sanders, who is supposed to be the neutral judge, to agree with him.

“You’ve got a talent,” Logan says afterwards, whilst Patton hugs his brother tightly, “you should join the debate club. I’m happy to put in a recommendation for you to be Captain next year.”

“Nah, I’m not that fond of debating,” Deceit says, and they all know it’s a lie, because he accepts Logan’s recommendation, and the next year takes over the position.

“You’ll be in High School too soon,” Logan points out to Emile, “make sure you let them know Deceit’s your soulmate, that way you’ll be put into the same classes.”

(Emile shifts awkwardly, and Logan considers mentioning that he knows Emile isn’t Deceit’s soulmate. But he lets it go, because if his brother’s happy then that’s all that matters.)

Deceit and Emile keep up the lie throughout middle school, going on double dates with Remy and Toby in their final year, two pairs of fifteen year olds arguing over which Disney movie to watch at the cinema. Emile likes it, likes holding hands with Deceit, likes the kiss on the cheek he receives at the end.

“We’ll still be friends after you meet Virgil, right?” he asks timidly one night.

The four at at his house for a sleepover, Remy and Toby having fallen asleep during Lilo and Stitch two hours ago. The make up has smudged enough that the purple letters are just visible, and Emile’s heart aches at the idea of losing his wannabe-soulmate.

“Best friends,” Deceit promises, and kisses Emile’s forehead, “forever.”

It’s the summer before they start High School, Remy and Toby finally making themselves official, and celebrating with a week away at Toby’s grandparents’ house, a pretty cottage by the sea.

“Have fun!” Emile hugs Remy tightly, “I’m so jealous of you guys, find a pretty seashell for me, would you?”

Toby laughs as Remy returns the hug. “We can manage that,” he assures Emile, “text us if you reach your growth spurt whilst we’re gone, ok?”

“I hate you,” Emile snaps, but laughs nonetheless when his three friends crowd around him, knowing he’s easily two inches shorter than them all.

“Use protection,” Deceit teases Remy, nudging Toby in the ribs, “try wait until Wednesday.”

Emile smacks him lightly around the head, and Deceit laughs. Deceit had already turned sixteen, whilst Remy and Toby shared a birthday. Emile still had two months to go.

“Watch it, or I’ll keep you filled in,” Remy warns, but his eyes sparkle.

“Ooh, fill me, yes please-”

“Dee!”

And then for a week it’s just the fake soulmates, starting each day redoing each others’ names and planning what to do.

“I think I might dye my hair when my parents go for their anniversary this weekend,” Emile says, “what do you think?”

“What colour?”

“Pink.”

“You’ll look fantastic. I was thinking of keying our local politician’s car.”

“That’s illegal.”

“And?”

Roman walks in on them dying Emile’s hair, and calls to Logan, saying that Deceit’s clearly a bad influence on his little brother, smiling nonetheless.

“Oh yes, a terrible influence,” Deceit says dryly, running pink through the tips, “after we dye his hair pink we’re going to get our ears pierced and spray Trans Rights over our headteacher’s car.”

“That’s illegal,” Logan points out, and doesn’t understand why Emile and Deceit burst out laughing.

The pair do both things. They go to the local Claire’s to get piercings, knowing it’s not the best place but doing it anyway. The lady coos over their soulmate marks, talks sadly about how her niece is a Spare, and Deceit loudly proclaims that his brother is a Spare, and how rude it is when people use the word.

“It’s just a blank wrist,” he snaps, and pays half what he’s meant to, despite Emile trying to convince him.

“I didn’t know Patton was...”

“Oh, he’s not, I just didn’t want to out you.”

They go over to Deceit’s home to get spray paint, and Emile sees the faint chicken scratch on Patton’s wrist, decorated with drawn-on flowers. Patton sees him looking and hides his wrist.

“I think there’s more in my room,” he tells Deceit, who hurries off, then turns to Emile, “...I know you’re not my brother’s soulmate.”

Emile almost throws up, a deer caught in the headlights. How are you supposed to react when you’re called out on a three year long lie? “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be, I’m sure it was Dee’s idea. But I hope you two know what you’re going to do when he meets Virgil.”

Virgil Knight became Emile’s nightmare. The idea of someone who would walk into his best friend’s life, reveal the lies, and walk away with everything Emile wanted.

He began to resent Virgil, tried to imagine him as someone particularly ugly, or stupid, or nasty, someone that Deceit wouldn’t want. He knows Deceit knows his thoughts, because when deep in his hatred of the mystery soulmate he finds Dee squeezing his hand gently, thumb tracing the fake soulmate mark.

Toby and Remy return from their trip with three sacks of shells, and lie them out on Remy’s bedroom floor for Deceit and Emile to enjoy.

“Take as many as you like,” Remy tells them, and Deceit picks up a translucent pink one, feeling the spiral and the perfectly smooth interior.

“Emile, this one’s almost as beautiful as you,” he says, and Emile flushes as he takes it.

(He puts it up on his bookshelf at home, and gently holds it to his chest every night before he sleeps.)

Deceit flirts a lot with him over the summer, and he knows it’s intentional, because Deceit grins at him every time, sly and mischievous.

“You can’t do that,” he protests one day towards the end, “what would Virgil think?”

“No idea, never met him,” Deceit replies breezily, “more importantly, what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“What do you think? Like...say I kissed you, what would you think?”

Emile goes red, changes the topic, and tries to ignore the way Deceit’s face falls for a fraction of a second.

They don’t bring it up again.

And then Virgil Knight makes his appearance two weeks into their High School life.

“Deceit?”

The four look up at a tall gangly emo kid, smudged mascara and almost entirely hidden underneath a band hoodie.

“Whatever it is, I probably did it, and definitely don’t regret it,” Deceit says instantly.

“No – I mean...you’re Deceit Hart, right?”

Deceit nods, taking a bite out of his sandwich, and Emile knows what’s about to happen before the words are out of the emo’s mouth.

“I’m Virgil Knight. I...I’m your soulmate.”

Emile’s life falls apart in slow motion.

First, Remy tells Virgil he’s wrong, because Emile is Deceit’s soulmate, and shows Virgil his wrist.

Then Remy sees the name is smudged, because for the first time in three years Emile’s fake soulmate mark has smudged, as if it knew what was about to happen.

Next, Virgil rounds on Deceit, demanding to know why his name is on someone else.

Toby is in shock, staring as the scene unfolds.

Remy is yelling, Virgil is crying, people are watching.

And Deceit is silent throughout, looking thoughtful, as if debating on what to say, as if anything could make this situation anything less than humiliating and painful.

“Nice to meet you Virgil,” he says finally, “this is Emile, he’s my best friend.”

Virgil explodes, and Emile later compares it to when Pearl gets popped and her clone goes nuts.

Virgil is screaming, grabbing Deceit’s wrist, seeing the make up cover up his name, demanding to know why Deceit doesn’t want his actual soulmate.

Emile, Deceit and Virgil are sent to the headteacher, who takes Virgil’s side, pointing out that lying about your soulmate is a crime in some countries. He asks Emile who his real soulmate is, and realises a moment later that Emile just has a blank wrist.

“It was my idea,” Deceit says quickly, seeing the tone of the headteacher change rapidly, “please don’t get mad at Emile, this whole thing is because of my actions.”

Emile is sent home nonetheless, and his parents alternate between being furious and being distraught. He can’t tell if they’re upset he lied to them, or if they’re upset because he’s a Spare.

“I can’t believe you’re blank,” his mother sobs, “you’re a – how could – my own son is a Spare!”

His father comforts his mother, and Emile quickly realises where the two stand. There’s anger inside him, boiling up, bitter and dark. It wasn’t fair that they were crying over his blank wrists, it wasn’t fair that everyone’s ideas of him changed when they found out he was a Spare.

“Everyone at school thinks it’s your fault,” Remy tells him down the phone, “...you could have told me you were lying, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” whispers Emile, “I didn’t think it’d get so...like this...”

“We’ve been friends forever, Em! You shouldn’t have hid this from me!”

“I’m sorry.”

He hates having to tell Logan, and cries as he does,

“I’m not angry at you,” Logan reassures him, “though it was a reckless decision to make. Is it really so bad to have blank wrists?”

“I don’t want to be a Spare,” Emile snaps, “you don’t know what it’s like, Lo, when everyone makes a thousand judgements at once because part of your skin is blank. It doesn’t feel good! I hate it! I hate everyone! I hate myself!”

(He cries late into the night.)

Remy and Toby approach him the next day at school, wrapping their arms around him gently.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“We’re not angry at you,” Toby says quickly, “or Dee, really. It was a dumb thing to do, but...yeah...”

“Just tell us next time,” Remy says gently, “it hurt, Em, no lie. But we still love you. Just...be honest with us in future.”

Emile is grateful for his friends, because Deceit has been removed from his classes, placed into ones with Virgil. He hears nothing from Deceit for three days straight, and he’s so convinced that Deceit has dropped him now he has Virgil.

Then Deceit breaks into his bedroom late at night, looking worse for wear, with dark circles under his eyes and a bruised cheek.

“Surprise!”

“Dee, breaking into places is illegal.”

“I know.”

Emile hugs him tightly, and cries softly when Deceit pulls him close, soft and firm and warm and perfect.

“Why didn’t you message me?”

“My brother took my phone,” mutters Deceit, sitting down and pulling Emile onto his lap, “says I need to learn to be responsible.”

“Your cheek-”

“Yeah, turns out my mum considers the whole lying about your soulmate thing to be a lot like cheating. Virgil agrees, so I’m kinda outnumbered. I, uh, don’t think Virgil expected her to react so badly though.”

Emile presses a gentle kiss to Dee’s bruise.

“What’s Virgil like?”

“Annoying. I mean, he’s cool and all, but being forced to spend all your time with an emo whose life revolves around My Chemical Romance is a pain. Plus he’s really angry with me, and we have nothing in common except for a love of Harry Potter. And he doesn’t even know what house he is!”

Emile laughs, because out of everything Deceit could be annoyed about, the Hogwarts House seems to have gotten him the most worked up.

“-And I said, maybe he was a Hufflepuff! But nope, he rejected that too!”

“Tell him he’s a Hufflepunk,” suggests Emile, “he might prefer that.”

Deceit pouts. “No way, there’s only one Hufflepunk in my life.” And he runs a hand through Emile’s pink hair, smiling softer than Emile’s ever seen.

“...I wish you really were my soulmate,” Emile confesses.

“I don’t,” mutters Deceit, “the whole thing is stupid, being made to be close to someone just because you have their name on you...”

“My name’s been on you for three years.”

“That’s different. You were a choice.”

Later, neither would be sure of who kissed who first, but Emile likes to think he made the first move, clumsy and awkward, lips meeting Deceit’s in a silent declaration of love.

“Then choose me again,” Emile whispers, pleads, and Deceit kisses him back.

To say Virgil dislikes this turn of events would be an understatement. Emile can’t blame him – to be told your whole life that you would meet a person who would love you forever, and then that person turns around and says no?

“I’d still like to be friends,” Deceit tells him quickly, “you seem great, and I’m happy to have met you, I just-”

“I can’t believe that between me and a Spare, you chose the Spare.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“I’m meant to be your only choice,” mutters Virgil, “not second to some...blank wristed nobody.”

Deceit rolls his eyes. “I can choose who I like. And I choose Emile, blank wrist and all.”

Virgil makes his dislike of Deceit and Emile obvious from then on, and does his best to avoid them, but destiny forces soulmates together one way or another, and within a year Virgil gives up on avoiding them, instead calling a truce of sorts.

Remy and Toby are silently thankful throughout that their own lives have a lot less drama in them.

Roman is happy for Deceit and Emile, simply stating that he finds the choice a lot more romantic than a typical soulmate meeting.

Patton comes around eventually, but it puts a rift between the brothers, and Virgil becomes closer to Patton pretty quickly.

“What university are you applying for?” Deceit asks Virgil when the time comes, “I want to make sure I’m applying elsewhere.”

“Fuck off,” snaps Virgil, “I’m not sharing anything with you.”

(So of course they end up applying to the same places, and Virgil goes to Patton in distress, complaining about how the universe hated him and that destiny was out to get him.)

“We’re just doomed to keep running into Virgil,” Deceit tells Emile, Remy and Toby, “I hate it.”

“Maybe you guys will be friends, eventually,” Toby suggests.

“Maybe.”

Emile’s parents never quite get over having a Spare for a child. They get Emile to specialists all over the country, as if that could do anything, until Logan puts his foot down, demanding they stop putting so much pressure on him to be “normal”.

Emile goes to the same university as Logan, eagerly telling his friends about his plans to study psychology there.

“I’m thinking of becoming a therapist,” he says, “I think I’d be good at it.”

“I think so too,” Remy says, smiling.

“You’re good at lots of things,” Deceit comments, and winks, “but does this mean I’ll be able to call you doctor and get you to-”

“Dee, if you end that how I think you’re going to end that, I’ll kill you,” Toby says seriously.

“Kinky,” Emile and Deceit say at the same time, and Toby gets up and leaves.

“That makes no sense!” they hear him yell, and Remy just shakes his head.

Deceit gets a snake tattooed around his wrist, covering up Virgil’s name. In response, Virgil gets a band of music notes over a galaxy sky, covering up Deceit’s.

“Want me to get your name tattooed?” Deceit asks Emile one day, the pair lazing about on a hot summer day.

“Not really. I’ve had enough of names,” Emile holds up his own blank wrists, “besides, then I’d get yours done, and I’ve come to like my blank wrists.”

“I like them too,” Deceit says, capturing them lightly and kissing Emile, “though they’d look even more pretty wrapped up in rope...”

Emile shakes his head, mutters that Deceit has no chill, and kisses him back. And if he deepens the kiss a little and mentions where Deceit might find some rope, then, well...that’s just a bonus.

There is no ending to their story, of course not.

Emile is a Spare, and every time someone sees his wrists they do a double take, look at him in sympathy, or offer him the number of a doctor that definitely knows how to “cure” that sort of thing. As if having no name was equal to an illness.

(Emile eventually starts explaining to these people that he is a doctor, and he knows better than to trust any that claim they can cure the lack of a soulmate mark.)

Deceit’s name is covered up, and someone will always whisper about it, expecting some sort of story behind it. And there is, yes, but Deceit has a dramatic flair and prefers to give over the top excuses every time.

(Eventually Emile convinces him to start writing his stories, and his books become world famous.)

Logan and Roman get married, a typical soulmate story, and Emile begs to be a bridesmaid.

Patton meets his soulmate, and Virgil ends up joining them in a polyamorous relationship of sorts. There’s never any real forgiveness between Virgil and Deceit, but the two can’t stop running into each other and eventually create their own terms of peace.

Remy and Toby don’t get married, but stay friends with the pair throughout their life, because as Deceit and Emile know, sometimes it’s the people you choose that you’re closest to.

“I’m glad I chose you,” Deceit tells Emile each morning, waking him up with kisses and a squeeze of the hand. Emile smiles every time, knowing exactly what he means.

“I love you too.”

[sunnyie-eve]

Somebody To Love (Part 4- Getting Started)

(Ben!RogerTaylor)

Word count: 1,786

Warnings: Nothing to worry about

A/N: I have no cule what I write at times... Enjoy

—————————————————

Over the past year the band has been selling out gigs at all the pubs. We all have built this stronger friendship, but with Roger always going out with new girls. Our friendship is the weakest I would say between me and all the guys. After two weeks with John we clicked instantly and we joke around all the time. At the moment the four of us were on our way to pick up Freddie.

"Why can't we take turns in the front seat?" I ask leaving my seat to talk to Brian. "Because it's our van." He smiles at me and I hit him. "Fine, I like being with John over you two anyways." I stick my tongue out going back to my spot. "Lies, you love me more." Brian looks back at me and I cross my arms. "Nope, not anymore." I smile at him and he grabs my arm pulling me to the front into his lap as we stop to pick up Fred. "You're late." He says walking up to the van. "Sorry that was my fault. We had to stop because I had to pee." I smile as he gets in the back and I sit back there too. "Well then, darling. It's alright." He smiles at me.

After being on the road for sometime, we had to pull over to fix the tyre. "This is bollocks!" I hear Roger complain as I watch John try to fix the tyre. "It's counterclockwise, I think you'll find, John." Brian tells him, who was struggling. "Oh is it? Thank you, Brian. Would you like to do it? Please, feel free." He says making me laugh. "No, no, no. Doing a good job." Brian puts his hands up and I walk over to him leaning into his chest. "We sold out every pub and uni south of Glasgow... and I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere, eating a ham sandwich." Roger continues to complain causing me to look at him and snuggle into Brian's left side. "Trouble is, we're just not thinking big enough.” Fred says. "What you got in mind, Fred?" Brian asks him as I move away from him.

"An album." He says like it was nothing big. "We can't afford an album." Deaky says not looking at anyone. "Oh, we'll find away. How much do you think we can get for this van?" Fred asks and me and Brian look at Roger. "I hope you're joking." He says with his mouth full and Fred looks at him, "No Mate." He says and I see Roger turning red. "Come on Roger, lets walk for a minute." I take my hand into his walking the opposite way from the group. "That's my van." He points back at it making me move my arm with his. "I know, I know. Just breathe and eat your ham sandwich." I giggle patting his back. "Want a bite?" He shoves his sandwich in my face. "Why not?" I take a bite of it.

"Alice, why have you been a tad distance with me?" He asks looking down at me. "Roger, you're always out with your new girlfriends. You're never around to hangout with me, and when I'm with all four of you... You sometimes have your girls with you, so I don't really want to be around you." I tell him truthfully. "I'm sorry, I should think about you sometimes." He kiss my forehead as we walk back to the van. "Let's get going. Fred, you can sit in the front. I want to sit with Alice." Brian says pulling me by my arm into his chest.

~

Freddie got the boys to agree to sale the van and Roger still wasn't happy about it. We were all standing in the hall while they paid to use the studio. "That's three months' wages." Deaky says as Fred handed over the money. "And a perfectly good van." Roger adds. "Don't be so dramatic, darling. You're recording an album tonight. Let's go!" Freddie says walking down the hall. "It's going to be a long night Mary." I say making me and her laugh. "It will be fun." Brian takes my hand into his as we follow Fred.

One of Roger's bloody girls showed up and me and Mary didn't even try talking to her a lot knowing she wouldn't be around for the next day. Both Mary and the girl were asleep on the couch as Freddie was in the booth, leaving me to sit in a small chair with Brian. "Don't you think I sound like shit?" He asks as we listen back. "No, it's good." I tell him. "Can we try it again?" Fred asks. "Yeah, sure." He leaves going back into the booth. "Trying to ignore Roger's girl?" Brian whispers in my ear. "Isn't it obvious?" I say aloud wrapping my arms around his neck. "That's my lovie." He kisses my cheek as we listen to Fred before he comes back.

"Sounds a lot better." Deaky says as we finish listening back to it again. "We need to get experimental." Brian adds and I agree. "Oh, Fred! Trying bouncing you guys left and right." I point at him. "For the ah-ah-ahs." Fred tells RT and he does as he's told. Brian stands up, "Now dead center for the last." He says. "And blast it!" Roger yells standing up. "Good one darling." Freddie places his hand on my lower back and Brian spins me around. "Brilliant!" He shakes me in his arms. "Now let's go in there and make some music!" Freddie leaves the room and the boys follow.

As they mess around in the booth, I smile to myself watching them do something they love. They come back in for a minute, "Do we have time to stacks a few more?" Fred asks. "The studio opens at 8:00 so we got 30 more minutes." RT tells Fred and they rush out. "Alice, Love! Come help!" Fred yells making Roger grab my hand dragging me with them. I help them come up with a few ways to make the music and it was fun. "Okay, try it." I laugh taking a step away with Roger while Brian and John try something new. It turns to shit and the bin fell making me, Roger, and John try to catch it laugh our bums off.

"Alice, since we been busy all night... Do you want to crash at my flat for the rest of the day?" Deaky asks me as we make our way to the cars. "Thank you, Deaky. I would really love that." I link our arms together telling everyone goodbye.

~

"Alice, phone is for you." Poppy calls for me and I take the phone from her. "Hello?" I answer. "Freddie called and said we're meeting his parents today. Plus it's his birthday, so I'm going to pick you up in 10, okay?" Brian asks, "I'll get ready then. Bye Bri." I hang up the phone and run to my room.

"You look lovely, Alice." Brian gets out of his car giving me a hug. "Can we get going?" I hear a girls voice whine. "Oh no, I'm staying home." I say turning around to go back to my flat. "Alice, please. Freddie wants you to come." Brian grabs my wrist. "I'm not sitting in the back with the two." I put my other hand on my hip. "Fine, I'll see if Deaky will sit in the back." He says as we walk back to the car. I smile at Deaky and he knew what I wanted him to do. "Fine, just this once." He hops out and I take his seat.

When we get to Fred's parents flat he opens the door for us. "Darlings you made it. I see Roger you brought a friend." He eyes the girl then looks at me, "Alice, come meet my sister." He takes my hand dragging me with him. "Happy birthday Freddie." I say as he stops in front of his sister. "Kashmira, this is Alice, a friend of mine. She's sorta part of the band and my assistant." He smiles at me. "Hello, Alice. You can just call me Kash." She smiles and we shake hands. "Hello Kash, also you can just ignore the other girl like I do." I smile at her and she nods her head. "Also just a heads up, if the blond starts to talk to you... Just call me and I will save you. I'll be doing you a favor." She laughs nodding her head, "I sure will."

When Mary and her father showed up we all got seated around the table, and I was next to Deaky while Roger's girl was on the other side. "Deaky, you're staring at them." I lean in and whisper to him as he drinks his tea ignoring me. "I used to know a girl who was Zanzibari." Roger says and I look at him. "Of course you did." He glares at me. Freddie's mum gets out picture books and he doesn't want us to see them but we all want to. I get out of my chair and stand up behind Mary and Kash looking at the pictures while Roger takes a seat next to Kash.

The phone starts to ring and Kash goes to get it, then tells Freddie it's for him. While I continue to look at photos I hear Roger talk to Kash. "Kash, What are you doing later?" I look to my right and Kash looks at me. "Alice, can you hand me my glass?" She smiles at me and I bump him with the side of my bum since I was still standing. "Here you go, Kash." I hand her the glass. Roger, you're in my seat." I smile down at him and he shakes his head. "Here, I'll share my seat with you." Kash makes room for me to sit on the chair so I'm closer to Roger. "You're terrible." I whispered to him. "Just making conversation." He says rubbing my shoulder and I shake him off.

"I have an announcement." Freddie says and we all pay attention to him. "One of the A&R men... from EMI saw us recording. Gave our demo to John Reid. Looks after Elton John." He says and we all are shocked. "Mr Reid wants to meet us and possible even manage us.

"Are you joking."

"Oh shut up."

"Oh my god." We all start to speak getting happy and Roger even pulls me into his lap to hug me. "Roger! Let go of me. You have your girlfriend to attend to." I get off him leaving the room to use the loo.

[escapismkidnappedme]

Doctor Emile “Sanders” Picani

“I dunno, I wasn’t planning on getting this far in education, so why care now?”

“Can you explain?” Patton asked,

“Obviously, Emi, education is the solution to poverty, without knowledge one cannot advance in life,”

“But I’m a dumbass and I got a fucking family or whatever so, i guess I went up the caste system pretty well,”

“LANGUAGE!” Patton said, giving him a hug, “you’re not a dumbass, so stop lying to yourself, otherwise uncle Roman will come over and tell you his stories on Broadway,”

“Fiine,”

“Now,” Logan began, “these are simple, once you find the formula,”

They spent the entire night going over the homework and finishing it at nine o’clock.

“I think I get it now,” Emile yawned, thanking Logan.

“You’re welcome, but repeat after me, ‘I am not a dumbass, I just limit myself’”

“I am a dumbass and limiting myself helps,” he replied sarcastically.

“Uh, okay do I need to get Patton out here?”

“Fined I am not a dumbass, j just limit myself,”

“Good, now go see other dad,”

“Patton what are you doing?” Emile asked, seeing Patton on the floor watching old cartoons,

“watching, see look,” Patton got him to watch and Emile fell in love, he understood all of the issues and realized he related to too many of the issues,

It soon became his therapy, occasionally Patton would watch, which originally he hated, but soon he didn’t mind, eventually they found each other in their company more often when Logan had to work for longer, but when he came back, they would be asleep on the couch beside each other,

Logan would somehow muster the energy. To take Emile to his room, tucking him in, and then heading for his husband, tucking him in with a bit less care his thought process “if you’re awake to complain, walk to bed, and do it yourself,”

Mysteriously, Patton would always move when he was layed down, which gave Logan fun game ideas such as, lift the husband as high as possible before he notices or tuck the duvet over the sheets, for science of course.

One day when Virgil was over, ranting about his own job, he was the younger of him and Patton and somehow managed to marry a handsome “prince” or at least he was a prince from seven pm to twelve am. He couldn’t visit much, but when he did he talked for long hours with Emile.

They had a bit of a learning curve but soon bonded over their hatred for the American adoption system, them bothe being adopted after age ten.

Virgil heard weeping, not loudly, but enough, and before he knew it, he was in Emile’s room, seeing the boy crying over a new cartoon, “Do you think, I’m broken? Don’t you think I know theyll leave me? I’m useless, they even deny that I’m a dumbass, I know I am, but they have the audacity to lie to my face, I know I’m being taken back, I’ve seen the adoption papers, they’re looking for a loophole,”

“Okay Emile, first of all fuck you for making me reveal their secret,” Virgil started, “Now I hafta buy the cake or something, but anyways, they’re trying to figure out your birthday, for a party,” he added, “But you’re not broken, because guess what? Broken means it’s ruined, and you can’t break a human being, you’re not a toy, okay? Please don’t compare yourself to a toy, okay?” Virgil gave him a hug, something he hated doing at the best of time, but Emile needed it, badly.

A few weeks past, and he had another breakdown, nothing more than the first but this time Virgil wasn’t there, instead it was just Logan and Patton, trying to calm him down, Emile freaking out because “this is the day I’m returned, not even these guys want me,” he was watching his favorite sad cartoon for when he was feeling hated by the world, “Avatar, the Last Airbender” Emile felt a strong connection with Ang, being different, except he never felt as powerful or important.

“Hey kiddo you okay?” Patton asked, seeing him upset, he rushed to his side, which unknowingly made him worse, “Hey it’s gonna be okay, what’s the matter?” He asked, hoping to get some form of an answer, but cared more about his son than a stupid answer.

‘I’m fine! Just don’t leave me alone, let me stay,’ He wanted to shout these words, but only mananged to get one word across “Leave,”

Patton frowned, “I’m not leaving you, okay? What, what episode are you on?” Weirdly this was a good indication of his mental health, if he was on one of the beginning episodes, he wasn’t doing as badly, but would be unwilling to talk, but if he was on one of the further episodes, the initial shock has worn off and he is more likely to listen, but he couldn’t respond well, sometimes the words were too hard for him to muster.

“It’s okay, if you don’t love me, I understand, but just, give me time to pack everything up,” he mumbled after a while, “I won’t take long to leave, only a few minutes, I’m not normal, and you deserve an infant, a happy baby boy, not a broken teenager,” Emile started to well up inside, mentally planning how he would leave everything and forget, forget everything that had happened here, everyone he met, after all, he was expected to do it so many more times when his “family” found out he didn’t just like girls.

Patton wanted to cry, “Do you think me and your dad are some form of crazy?” He asked, “We’d never get rid of you Emi, even if it means you believe you’re broken, sometimes people need the proper environment to flourish into the lovely, talented, precious person they are, okay?”

Emile didn’t know what to say, was he being rejected? Accepted? Patton was giving him a hug so he must care even a little bit.

Logan soon appeared back from work, it was late and he entered quietly. Seeing the two hugging and Emile’s tear-strewn face he knew how to react. “Emi, please drink some water when you feel up to it? Dehydration is no laughing manner,”

Patton gave his husband his hand, holding it out and forcing him into the hug, “Patton I must work-“

“Shush, we never get to see you during the day,”

“It is twelve am, Patton,”

“Shhhh, my son is here, and he is up, our son, the son, the son is up, therefore it is daytime, but only for us,”

“Doesn’t that make it sad?” Emile asked, “no one else is awake, we’re alone,”

“That is one approach however, yes it is late and you have school, but, the entire world is asleep, except us three, we get to spend this time together, while the rest of the world sleeps,” Logan offered, “That said, it is time for bed for all of us,” Logan gave Emile a quick hug and followed Patton to their bedroom to sleep.

“Lo? Do you think he’ll be okay?” Patton asked sleepily,

“What happened is my question,”

Once Patton explained Logan took a deep breath “I believe with therapy, he may recover, not fully, for one does never forget, but let us hope, that he is able to forgive the world that forsake him,”

Eventually, with a lot of coaxing from Uncle Roman, Emile went to therapy, meeting a Doctor Menique,

“Hello Emile, I understand you have some emotional issues with the past,” he began calmly, “it’s fine, whatever you say here, stays here, everything stays in this room okay?”

“Okay….” Emile mumbled, slouching and trying to hide,

“I understand we share a few things, mainly, we’re both adopted, now tell me what age were you when you were adopted?”

“About two months younger,” he replied sarcastically,

“I see, well, I was adopted, not by any legal means, you see, I aged out of the orphanage, I was adopted, not by a group of relatives but by friends, people who loved me, and people I loved,” he began,

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I learned something very important, family, is not someone who you’re born to, yes it can be part of it, but only a small part, family, is what you make of it, the people who love you, and the people who you love, they’re your family, but the important thing is, you get to chose,”

At that last phrase Emile’s eyes lit up, out of pure joy.

No it didn’t take him one miracle session but in fact a ton of sessions, ranging from eye contact to help with homework, if he absolutely needed someone to rant to about his life getting harder, and him being ‘too dumb’ which often resulted in Doctor Menique making him stop on whatever he was saying and tell him to re-word it, giving himself some form of pride.

After a few months Emile finally did flourish into the person Logan hoped he would become and Patton knew he would be, in fact, it was now his senior year of high school, graduation day, he had chosen a major, psychology, and was already going to college to become a psychologist, in which Doctor Menique was proud to watch.

College hit and Emile had never felt so much relief, taking the classes he wanted. Learning how to help people like his family had helped him, and eventually it was the big day, graduation day and he was to give the valedictorian speech.

(Part 2/3)

@vaugleysassygrunt @darknightvirgil @softestvirgil @ilovemygaydad @the-incedible-sulk @virgilsblogofanxietys @randomslasher @virgils-hoodie @pangryffindor @nerdy-as-heck

[cru1sec0nt0l]

Things I will never tell you

I was thinking about how I'm friends with other women I've been involved with, but we aren't now. Despite the fact that we were friends for years before.

I've realized that we're not friends because I felt betrayed. I still do. I thought you would have respected me a little more as a friend of 11 years. But the second you said "rebound" after knowing how I felt about you for a year, I felt crushed. I felt used. I still remember lying next to you thinking, "alright, just enjoy this moment with her because after tonight, this is never happening again". In the moment I told you "I'm an adult, I can handle being a rebound" because I didn't want to tell you how hurt I was. That was 100% my fault and I regret that now. I was so desperate to feel loved by you, I let myself get used by you. I'm just realizing that as I wrote it. I texted you after you left about how upset I was about it, and you said you hadn't meant "rebound" like that. I tried to be friends with you afterwards, but it all felt different. Neither of us could relax. And so I couldn't step back to being friends.

Even if you didn't intend for it to "feel like a rebound", I wish you'd have turned me down if you weren't sure. You didn't owe me a relationship. But I thought you'd have been more careful with my feelings out of respect for me as a friend. I wish you would have figured out what you felt before messing with how I felt. There were just so many things you didn't need to say if you didn't mean them. In my birthday letter, you wrote I was the Jim to your Pam, the Rory to your Amy. You said you would have wanted to marry me one day. That you'd want to be home when I got off work in the future. You're allowed to change your mind. You're allowed to be hurt after a break up. But you should've left me out of your own hurt if you were going to do so.

It was never all your fault. That whole situation was unhealthy. I shouldn't have waited. We romanticized it, but it's unhealthy to wait for someone to reciprocate how you feel. Either it's there or it isn't. Waiting leaves you too exposed, too vulnerable. It was also my fault for holding on to hope when you chose K and said the only reason was because K lived closer. To be fair, I tried to keep my space mentally but you were hurt that I didn't want to talk to you about K. So I was a supportive friend, but in truth, I didn't see you working out. And when it didn't, I went for it.

I do and I don't understand why I still miss you. But I do. It's weird, I keep unpacking more and more about who I was at that time every year. I don't think about you a lot, but when I do, I sit with it a little. Mostly because I think about you when I feel lonely. That whole year sticks out to me because it's the one time I can say I've ever been heartbroken. It also changed how much I trust my heart. And knowing that, I couldn't be friends with you because I could never tell you about how I felt again. Because I didn't trust that you'd be a good friend about it.

Anyway 23-24 feels like such a long time ago. Genuinely, I miss being your friend. I miss texting you about small day-to-day things and our banter. A small part of me will love you until I truly fall in love with another. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope your mom, dad and Emi are good. I hope you found the love you were looking for, get married, and travel. I hope you get to do all the things you wanted to. I hope you're doing well, M.

[fayewonglibrary]

Na Ying set to conquer (1998)

While the world waits for the mainland to open up industries from retail to record and film distribution, Beijing-based singer Na Ying, far from fearing the competition, is looking forward to the benefits that will bring.

It is not difficult to understand why. Na's work has been pirated into a dozen compilation albums, which have earned her not a renminbi in royalties.

The twentysomething Shenyang native is past the stage of frustration, she said during a promotional visit to Hong Kong recently.

'In China, the industry is still developing and until they set a system, no one cares. It's not something that I can change nor is it something that affects only me. In China there are hundreds of pirated Faye Wong compilations.

'In the beginning I was frustrated but when fans all come to you with covers for pirated copies, what do you do? Faye would refuse to sign because she always encouraged her fans to buy original products. But for the rest of us who have no new recordings, what can we do?' said Na, who has just released her first album in Hong Kong, Conquer.

If Na speaks with familiarity about Wong, it is because they have been friends for almost eight years. 'Whenever she went back home to Beijing, we would run into each other. After getting to know each other, we found we had a lot in common towards life and love. So we get along very well,' she added.

Na travelled from her hometown to Beijing for the first time 10 years ago to take part in her first nationwide singing competition.

She came second but one of the judges was impressed enough with her talent to offer her singing lessons.

She ended up staying in Beijing and took part in many more singing competitions. At the same time she built a career singing theme songs for television dramas and movies, including the Feng Xiaogang-directed Beijingers in New York.

At the time, there were no recording labels in China, neither were there popular songs and Na was quite happy singing her television theme songs until she caught a glimpse of the world outside.

'About four years after I got to Beijing, I entered a lot of competitions where there were contestants from overseas. That was when I found out that singers in other countries had record contracts and released albums,' she said.

Na thought the smart move was to find a record label to represent her interests and to package her singing. Finding a suitable company on the mainland was not easy: most record companies and production labels were just starting out.

But one of her TV theme songs attracted a record producer from Taiwan. She signed with him and released two albums: Thinking of You Day and Night (1994) and The Day Doesn't Know The Darkness of the Night (1995). Just last year she switched to an international record label, EMI, for which Conquer is her first release.

Conquer was released in Beijing with a million-dollar press conference in the Great Hall of the People, attended by press corps from all around Asia.

'It was such an honour being in the Great Hall. I had never been there before and to have so many reporters there, it felt great,' she said.

At her first autograph signing session in the Chinese capital, Na was overwhelmed by the massive support from her fans. Not only was she inundated with flowers and gifts, she also received a marriage proposal from a fan.

'It was quite touching. He just came up to me with some flowers and said, 'Na Ying I like you very much. Marry me'. Everyone was pushing him and telling him to hurry up so he just left the flowers with a note which said he wanted to marry me and that he had been listening to me for a long time. He wanted to meet me on his birthday!' recalled Na with a laugh.

She did not meet him - she was afraid her boyfriend would get jealous - but she was happy anyway because she enjoyed meeting all her fans who had 'grown up' with her.

While most Beijing singers have a more raw-edged sound, Na - who sometimes sings with Beijing rock band Ling Dian - admits that her style is 'more Taiwanese'.

And, even though, Taiwan and Beijing are known for their singer-songwriters, Na has not tried her hand at writing her own songs. 'I feel that [my] writing songs is equivalent to a film star wanting to try singing: it's not a very serious effort. I've never made a real effort to try. I think I want to sing well first. Then maybe I will think about it,' she said.

Although Na travels to Hong Kong every few months, for business or pleasure, it is not always as easy for her to go to other places, especially Taipei. As a result, Conquer was achieved through telecommunication.

'I was in Beijing, the producer was in Taipei and my management people were in Hong Kong, so everything was done by fax. We even set my [singing] key on the telephone and everyday I would receive packages of demo tapes by courier. I think I had about 150 songs sent to me this way,' she laughed.

'My producer and the recording label people would make day trips to Beijing to have meetings with me.

'Taking the aeroplane was like a bus ride for them! They have put in so much effort that I feel pressure to do well.' After The Dream, the first single from Conquer also features good friend, Wong, on guest vocals. Na said Wong's help has made her strive even harder to do a good job.

'She helped me choose the singles. I let her listen to all the songs and she likes most of them. She makes suggestions because she understands me. And clearly she has very good taste because those she told me were potential singles were the ones the record company eventually chose,' she said.

Conquer will be released all over Asia - where there are Chinese markets - and while Hong Kong is not the only place Na is targeting, it is a priority.

'If I can do well here, I can have a lot of opportunities here. I'm not too ambitious; as long as I have tried my best, I should be OK.

'And I have one big motivation and inspiration: Faye.

'I hope I can achieve in Hong Kong what she has done.' 

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

SOURCE: SOUTH CHINA MORNING POST

[thesecretlifeofmerribethc]

5.11.19 - 5.16.19 feat. NEW JOB + BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

5.11.19

Saturday! Cleaned manong’s car out while the sibs cleaned the house. I drove to Target and we also walked to 5 Below and Marshalls. At Marshalls manang bought an espresso maker!!! It’s so cute, and it was only $8. At Target I bought mom a small eye shadow palette for mother’s day lol (that’s all I could afford). Got some Mcdonalds and went home to play Overcooked 2. Mom was home from hanging out with tita Delai and tita Emy. Also. I found out my wisdom tooth in the back of my right side of my molar is finally popping out of my gum!!!! Bout time but man :P

5.12.19

Happy Mother’s day!!! Woke up and gave mom her gifts. Oh yeah, at Marshalls, manang bought marv lindor chocolate to give to mom lol. At church it was so busy! Decorated (again) the dining hall but at least it was simple. Food was great!!!!! Mark and kuya Sanjay both brought chicken curry! Mark actually brought a lot of food!! SO NICE of him. He brought curry, rice with beans, and plaintains. It was so good!! Dad had work so at home the sibs and mom took pics.

5.13.19

Prepped for interview questions and my clothes for my interview with Delfin at DMC - DRH! So nervous.

5.14.19

Phewwwww ok`so I got up pretty early (ok not really, but like 10 a.m. lol) to review some interview questions and answers. Got ready and then mom, dad and I made our way to Detroit. It was a sunny, beautiful day! Got to DRH and checked in with the front desk. Dad and I waited for about 20 minutes before we got the go to go upstairs. During that time of wait, dad was approached by like 4 co-workers, 1 was Marko who worked on the 5th floor but days, and he gave me some encouragement. Then it was dad’s own coworker, the PCA. And she was like “Ha? She’s having an interview with _______?!” And then before we went to the 5th floor, we stopped by dad’s office and his coworker was there too and she seemed iffy about where/who I was interviewing with and it kinda worried me. Anyway, went upstairs and met with the manager, however I went into the room and sat with the coordinator who interviewed me. She was SO nice. I really like her. I don’t think I nailed the interview, but thankfully the questions she asked were pretty easy, and she was very positive. After my interview with the coordinator, I was then facing the manager who came in the room to ask if I had any questions. After about 20 minutes of talking he then asks me, “I’m going to ask you a hypothetical question. If I were to offer you the job right now, what would you say?” and I said yes. And then he said, “I’m offering you the job.” So HOME GIRL GOT A JOB!!!! After that I took a tour with the coordinator and checked the 3 units within the 5th floor. I DID IT. Friends congratulated me on the Groupme. Was so funny cuz Jod was like “Bebet went from being the poorest in the group to the richest” and all my friends were like “WOW WE KNOW A DOCTOR” “WOW DOCTOR” Got picked up and celebrated at Mcdonalds on Mack. It was so busy. After that, mom, dad and I just went to the downstairs parking so dad could nap before work (yes, dad sacrificed napping to support me for my interview <3333 he walked into the hospital with me and walked me up to the 5th floor too!). Dropped dad off and then mom and I went to get manang. Manong picked up Marv. Before we picked up manang mom and I went to burlington to look at shoes but didn’t get anything. Got manang and once we got home we changed and got ready since Jod was gonna pick us up for taco Tuesday at Maiz!! Si parked at our house and so the 4 of us rode together. Got to Maiz and waited for like 15 minutes for a table, and then Jovel and Nai came. After we were done eating Sam came but we ordered his food so that it was ready when he came. I was pretty disappointed with my food. The shell was SO SOGGY and old tasting. It broke apart :P And the meat was cold! Sigh. Like the shell was even doubled up because it was breaking apart. Anywho after that we went to Cultivate(?) where we played exploding cats. Then manang and I rode with Sam and Si home!

5.15.19

Mom cooked me some spaghetti for tomorrow! :))) Mom had a date with tita rose and others so it was just Marv and I at home. I cleaned before marv got home. Cooked egg for the sibs and I and then watched som one punch. Then I went to the garage to get started on the trash. Once manong and manang came home the four of us in good moods worked together to get the wooden pallets, couch, stove and trash out to the curb. After that we played Overcooked 2. BUT OMG. So like, at 2 am today before I hit the hay, I went on FB and saw a flyer that St Joseph Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor was having a nurse job fair!!! I signed up and told Danielle. She’ll most likely ride with me!! Sigh.... Kinda wished I didn’t say yes immediately. And I kinda wished I was ready for an interview with Beaumont. Sigh. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be tho.

5.16.19

Happy birthday to me!!!!!! Thank you Lord!!!! Literally woke up and cried. God is so good. All the time. So thankful for another year. Woke up and went downstairs and found a bouquet of beautiful carnations and a card from dad (I was still up last night and he didn’t get home until 5 just to get these for me! :’D). Had breakfast with mom and dad and then just chilled for the day! Then it was time for prayer meeting. Picked up Marv then went to 7-11. Got some donuts and iced coffee. Then we got manang and then went to burlington near church. Got to church early and just walked around the parking lot. It was such a beautiful day!! After prayer meeting we went to Meijer in Woodhaven to get rice. At home I ate spaghetti! And then manang gave me her gift which was a cute milk carton purse!! Oh and $10 cash!!! I was sooooo surprised when I saw the purse. It was SO cute!! <3 Also going to Ann Arbor tomorrow! Picking up Danielle thanks to manong :)

5.17.19

Woke up so early today! Woke up at 8:30 and got ready. Manong and I left at like 9:30ish or so to get Danielle. On the way to Danielle’s there was a pretty crazy driver on King road right before the brownstown police station. Anyway, got to Danielle’s, picked her up, then got breakfast at Mcdonalds (thanks manong! <3). Then we made our way to Ann Arbor. Found a parking space and practice some questions and such then walked in. It was busy but man everyone was SO NICE. Danielle and I met with the manager of the Medsurg (gen surgery) floor and the neuro floor. They were really nice. Then we talked with the manager for the ER. After that we took a tour with Dan and HE WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST. He was so inspiring to me. Like, he had no hospital experience, working as a full time mail man during school. He became a nurse and then after a year he went to grad school and became a CNS! He’s been at SJMH for 10 years already!!! He was really super nice. He even says, “I hope you get a job here! I teach in the orientation as well” and I’m like THAT WOULD BE A DREAM. The hospital was absolutely beautiful. Probably the best hospital I’ve ever been to. They even have a nail/hair spa!!!!!! And it smelled SO CLEAN. It would be amazing if I could get a job there after DRH! Anywho, the only sad part was that the medsurg floor wasn’t doing on the spot job offers or interviews :( When I heard that I felt that God validated me going to DRH. I prayed that Lord, my siblings plan to move to Washtenaw. If I get this job I would be so close to them. If it is your will I be at SJMH, Lord please provide me a job on the spot. If not, then I’ll stay at DRH. So there you go! There’s God’s answer. Although the manager said that if I were to hear anything, it would be on the following Friday, however I didn’t get any call back. Anywho, after we got back to the main area from the tour, Danielle went ahead to talk to the CCU presentation. I sat in the food area and had a cup of coffee. Talked to 2 ladies that were waiting in the medsurg line and they were so nice. Then I went outside and called PJ and just talked about my whole dealio. After danielle was done, manong came and picked us up. He was just waiting next door at WCC. Got lunch at KFC and ate inside. I was starting to get cramps sadly! After dropping off danielle, manong and I went to Advance Auto Parts in brownstown, then home. At home I just rested in my room having taken 3 ibuprofens for my cramps (I really need to take something else now). Then I got ready for dinner cuz the whole fam was going out for my bday! Picked up Ne on the way. Thought we were going to Leo’s but I looked up and we were at OLIVE GARDEN!!!!!! I was so surprised. Had a great dinner. Ordered my fave chicken alfredo. After OG we went to Target then Ne’s place! Drank some tea and chilled then went home.

5.18.19

Busy day today! Cleaned the house and got it ready for when the friends came over! Manang and mom went to Kroger to get food so Marv and I finished up. Manang washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen while I vacuumed and cleaned bathrooms and made sure the house smelled good. Oh and Marv put the plants frmo the loft outside on the porch (about time those plants were gone!). First friend to come was Jod, then Josh and Joseph, then Bubby and then jovel, PJ and then daen. Played overcooked (jod loves it!) and then took pics with my star donut cake lol. Then Hannah and cam came!!!!!. We were laughing so hard the whole day!!! Hannah talked about her crazy experience with cult customers at timmy hoes and that was the ongoing joke of the night. Played Wario Ware and then Jackbox! It was so funny. Check out my album on Google photos to see some of the jokes lol. Dad was so funny too when we told him about the cult.When he came out of his room he was like “I took my naked picture to give to the cult” xD LOL my friends were laughing so hard. Cooked shin ramyun and boiled eggs and ate that. Had a lot of food today (qdoba chips and dip from jod, pizza from pj, egg tart and vanilla ice cream from josh, orange creamsicles from jovel, donuts from hannah, candy from daen). Overall it was a really fun and funny night. Also hannah gave me a gift of $45!!! I was so surprised. So thoughtful and nice of her!!!! :’)

5.19.19

Church!! T’was a busy day. Took pics with my cake and oh my goodness, tita Mildred and my class made a banner for me! Church members were so generous in terms of birthday gifts. I made about $235 total! God has been so good to me. Wow. He has blessed me with so much. Some of the gifts I’ve gotten:

-Card, flowers, and olive garden dinner from mom and dad

-milk carton purse and $10 cash from manang

-pink selfie stick cell phone case from manong (didn’t get this till later)

-dunder mifflin hat from Marv (didn’t get this till later, but I’m listing it now lol)

-Versus versace watch from PJ

-$45 from hannah

-Money from tita Mildred, merrilee, and tita cheng, as well as a black and white striped shirt from tita Gina.

-Leche Flan from ne!

After church, the sibs and I went to Ne’s. Ne made me leche flan with cream cheese! Ugh so good. Chilled at Ne’s until midnight ish!

5.20.19

Today was a pretty chill day. Later in the day I went to the gym with manong. PJ came too. Manong and I worked out from 9:40 to 1 a.m.! GSW also played and won. Worked out so long. I drove to the gym and home. After the gym I drove to Meijer and manong bought me lunchables cuz I was so hungry lol.

5.21.19

Officially signed and sent my acceptance for the DRH job position!!! It’s official!! After that dad and I did yard work in the back. After that we had dinner with the fam and then I worked on making thank you cards for my manager and coordinator at DRH. Watched some bball!

5.22.19

[homunculuscolossus-blog]

Fortunately, people aren't responsible for who their parents are

 “Disappointed people, clinging on to bottles

When it comes it’s so, so, disappointing.”

“Your dad liked them,” my mum once told me after I asked her -with some twelve-year old snottiness- if she knew who Radiohead were. It was one of the first concretely factual, ‘positivist’ statements I could pin on the person: Dad liked Radiohead. Quite certainly the EMI years, everything up until the release until ‘Kid A’ I could be sure he liked, because my parents were still together then.

There are certain songs (and this is true of books too) one remembers through the material circumstances of listening: the time of the year, the visuals of the cover, maybe how you came by it. Often the material circumstances plays some guiding role back to the memory. Sometimes it has been the other way around.

I’m fairly sure that the memory of listening to ‘Let Down’ for the first time - on the grayest afternoon, streaks of rain on the windows, the depressing flat with its thousands of micro-blemishes and few serious structural problems - is also due to the insistent, painful quality of Thom’s wailing.

It was nice to know that I could share something besides his malevolent laugh, which according to mother was “100% him.” Where was this jerk? What was he doing? Why did I feel that I needed him to ‘rescue’ me?

In the great cherry-picking of quotes I thought were pertinent, Adam Philips writes things like: “If someone can satisfy us, they can frustrate us; and if someone can frustrate us we always believe they can satisfy us. And who frustrates us more than ourselves?” Alain de Botton might add that we need to find the partner that has the familiarity of such childhood suffering. He also says other things in the same lecture which might not have any great deal of empirical weight or valid meta-analysis to them. But anyway, I’ll go on using him because I haven’t read much Philips, Klein, Winnicott et al. (or had a therapist). “If we manage to turn rage into grief,” he says quite early on, “we will have made psychological progress.”

“What lies behind rage very often is an unusual quality because we tend to think that very angry people are dark and pessimistic characters. Absolutely not. Scratch the surface of any regularly angry person and you will find a wild optimist. It is, in fact, hope that drives rage. Think of the person who screams every time they can’t find their house keys or every time they get stuck in traffic. These curious but unfortunate characters are evincing a reckless faith in a world in which keys never go astray, the roads mysteriously traffic-free. It is hope that is turbo-charging their rage.”

I was angry, it was true, but it became less and likely as the years went by without contact that I had forgotten ever been begotten by a man that looked like me: it felt like I was an all-female androgynous creation, a feminino, a sissy. Even if at bottom de Botton’s calculation leans towards a murky calculus which doesn’t account for great variation in human reaction, it has the great advantage of convincing angry people that they can exist in an otherwise different range of emotional habits. Thanks too, to CBT. Moreover, it is certainly the case that the cynical are reactive in that way because they have taken some distance from the risky, familiar calumnies which produce distrust and disappointment. Cynicism with a human face instead then? A modification which wears genial reactions, personable smile, yet the person who is inwardly cautious and reserving of their time and energy may still have the small victory of inviolability; yet more obviously, might have the obvious disadvantage of doing little with their life that is not deemed low-risk. Notably, love.

One of the saddest, and almost certainly relieving, dues of dying is not having to not having to want anymore: Just as is written on Kazantzakis’ resting stone, there is no imperative “to want nothing, to fear nothing,” Instead, “to be free.”

The impetus to begin this post began as I left a train from Norwich, defeated, that I hadn’t learned anything about to how to handle myself in social situations.The story of why I was in Norwich is a different story. I didn’t have an eye for narrative, except that I knew it had something to do with zero-ing in upon details and the subterranean connections between things which can form that factitious thing called a narrative. I couldn’t do narrative but I could maybe I could find the salient details, the most memorable vignettes. “There so nice people” a woman a few rows in the train carriage said, on the phone. I had to urge to correct her grammar. I was not so nice people. I was not smart people. I was not good people. Move along, whiner. Whose fault is that? My own, and nobody but my own.

Like the weight of all childless yet somehow successful sons of the past, that yawning, yet restless energy which should be more properly considered as sublimated or misplaced anger, impels me forward: “Why are you such a jerk? Where are you?” Power, propriety, property, authority, knowledge: all those things I’m not happy with myself for admiring and you have none of them. If most disadvantages come from inability, not knowing or not adapting to the ways of the world, I think I can understand something of his beginnings: at 15, school ends, doing waitering jobs for the next 10-15 in Cyprus and the UK. Now, peasant class in the dawning glory-time of mass unemployment.

Right now, almost a week later after Norwich, I write this from a bench in a walled garden of a former aristocratic country house (never mind which) now in the local authority’s hands. The specific name is irrelevant. It’s August.  A man with a bald head obscured by a low shrubbed tree, sits on a bench. To relatively locate him, he’s about ten metres north-northwest of me, sat on the benches of the inner circle (I’m on the outer bench of the bottom right corner). At first, I didn’t notice him until I had looked around to explain the source of a forceful waft of marijuana. A cloud crept over from behind the gaps of the small tree. If wasn’t for the two small boys with a ball running to the bald man with a football, my blitheness may have never registered him. “Daddy, daddy, I need your help. Be on my team,” one said. “No, no,” the impetuous other of the two blonde-haired dwarves says. I can’t hear the father’s response if he responds meaningfully at all. His arm points and extends outwards. The two little offspring, after in all likelihood imbibing his recreational aromas, run back to another part of the grounds. 

I’m in the garden because I have nothing better but summer reading to do. I feel tyrannised by leisure, because all my friends are scattered across the world, quite literally. In the book I hold, Elif Batuman’s The Possessed, there’s a conversation in which her then-grad-student self and another student, Matej discuss his “current object of study: something called ‘the problem of the person’”: 

“The problem, was that personhood is revealed and constituted by action, such that the whole person is always present in every action - and yet the person isn’t ‘exhausted’ by any single action, or even by the sum of all her actions.” (p. 76)

Although what seems to me defined as an Arendtian, action-centred philosophy of personhood reads as something possibly esoteric, it bears mulling. In their objects, in the things that they like, and in an overall loose relationship to factual accuracy of stories told and retold about them we ask, “What is he?” Describe. On balance, I happen to still like Radiohead and maintain an ambivalent relationship to l'herb but I would like to think, moralising aside, I would do better than these two (no offspring if so, not negligence). There are many problems with the person.

A day later, still under the sway of a Batuman’s The Possessed,  I remember some sentences registering her relative dissatisfaction at having, more or less, studied Russian for two years without being unable to simply pick up a book and just read it (in The Possessed). Ditto, my own inability to watch a Greek feature without the subtitles. Under this spell of this disappointing reflection from someone who more people should consider an intellectual hero, later that night I told myself I should watch Kynodontas (Dogtooth). There’s some kind some of the initial grim irony in using this film to learn Greek, since, at least in the opening scene, audiotapes narrated by the mother insidiously redefine the Greek language. In the bathroom, down to underwear the three (siblings? How would the viewer know?) listen to a tape player: “The new words of the day are ‘Sea’, ‘Highway’, and ‘Roadtrip’ and ‘Shotgun.’” ‘Roadtrip’ is an unimpeachable floor material. This film probably offers a cipher for the conservatism of the Greek nuclear family and the patriarchs therein, but I can’t unpack it now. Of course, in this scene, each definition is wrong and subtitles don’t require you to expend any great epistemic work to strike you of their wrongness. We never learn the exact reason why the teenagers of the fenced compound are prohibited from the outside world:  the onus is on the industrialist father who confines them to explain himself. In any case, they must wait for their (adult) Dogtooth to be let loose, an event which, of course, never comes. That is, without a pummelling to the jaw. Defanged, having just that at, the end of this treacly black satire sees the eldest hide in the trunk of her father’s car, unknown to him, awaiting a brave new world she has never known.

Analogous in certain ways, then, to the eldest daughter of Dogtooth, I knew of the world through a specific media consumption and socialisation. If Dad had stayed beyond my second birthday, I may have actually been fluent in Greek (Cypriot and not Demotic, but let’s not open this). I might have liked football, been less solitary. I knew Dad from the few sub-Kray crime paperbacks, spined and yellowed like a true victim, that had been carried perhaps unknowingly in each move of the several, early flats we lived in. We all wonder, at one time, perhaps not in our twenties of the nascent, secret selves that were not immediately obvious to us. 

These unknown, unrealised selves take us into a sort of widening gyre of counterfactual selves. Some years ago, when I was perhaps a tweenager, I found out that Dad had fathered another family – and perhaps again, not without the semantic uncertainty of what a ‘family’ meant. I had heard about the story, that Dad had become consummate with an American woman in Cyprus, several ears down: first my dad had spoken, casually and confidentially perhaps, on the phone to my Uncle Michael, the droll, serious-minded hunter of rabbits, who had then drip-fed reticent morsels, tongue-in-cheek to my auntie. My auntie Androula, less reticent, had then jawed on with the news to my mother. This unknown woman, this American, had been cast by someone, as not unlike the role of temptress to my all-too virile Daddy. She was a temptress, according to Dad, for what happens after. She was working for the American government on the Island (an agency with one of those infamous three-letter acronyms) and as the vague motions of the story went and here perhaps, in Papa’s cheeky eagerness to flirt and seduce during his service-industry dealings as a waiter, had sparked up something. After, there is something of an ellipsis since, when Dad does respond in person, with few sentences, a few years later, he mentions how he spent some time in New Jersey. He makes the leap across continents, after how long of knowing this woman exactly? The visits themselves are perhaps worth writing some paragraphs on, but hold on: he doesn’t say how long and in what capacity he lived (and perhaps loved) in The Garden State. I don’t think to ask. I’m not incurious, I think, but I am quiet. I am not alone in the room as he tells us this. We’re at my auntie’s house. My mum doesn’t allow him to know where we live now, although he keeps asking and has some vague indication. 

Anyway, my Dad tends to twins with this woman eventually births (conceived where, it is not important). Does he drive an inconspicuous suburban vehicle through the interstate highways, through the old colonial buildings of Newark, ice piled on the corners, rocking a baby carrier on the front seat? Does the deeply-riven status anxiety dynamic, she a government professional, he less so, eventually break them apart? Does he get the finger flipped to him by a balding man who could -yes!- from the rear, actually be Phillip Roth! Wrong on both accounts. The story goes that, apparently, this government worker couldn’t get the indefinite leave she needed from the federal agency she worked for, being apparently childless and unmarried. My dad’s sperm fulfills this, again apparently, and she is able to exit for good. It sounds far-fetched. Which federal employees cannot just leave their agency? Perhaps she knew secrets. Perhaps children makes them, in the eyes of the ruthless male-headed agency chiefs, vulnerable or else, redundant. This account also overlooks any semblance of any actual real love they may have actually sparked up.

As for getting flipped off while in the driver’s seat, in the one or two times I drove with him in his black Toyota Yaris, in the UK, one of his signature driving styles was the lane shift without ‘indicators’ (not a metaphor). Perhaps he thought indications were reserved for hard, right-angle turns only. With a CD of Bob Marley’s Greatest Hits playing I remember him uttering laconically: “It’s black man’s time,” before quickly adding “after slavery”. “That was two hundred years ago,” I said (I was a teenager, I was more ignorant). “Doesn’t matter. It’s their time,” he said in his idiosyncratic, accented Gringlish. More to the point, however, as I remember the feeling of this memory, why was the paterfamilias telling me this? He never said it was my time, he only ever asked me how school was going once. Sure, race and identity categories could further liberation, but they could be, as I learnt later, or at least I think I did, a technology of census-taking and governance. The ex-colonials, Jamaicans, and Cypriots are joined by this, but I doubt my Dad affiliated himself with anyone other than the fellow Islanders at the many restaurants he moved for in the nineties. What had he been reading?

Dad, for all his animus to the Turkish government, as a boy who had lived through that fateful day in 1974, bearing nothing but the clothes on his back, ditto Nikos and Maria my paternal grandparents, had remarkably little chauvinism to share with me. He seemed like anti-racist but neither did he casually wax on with anti-colonial or communist nostrums. In the inter-war years (1919-1938), it was perceived by the Metropolitan Police that the few Cypriots who were residing in London were more likely given to this sort of politics, though not without a sizeable conservative religious minority too. (This little-known story of Cypriots being surveilled by the police in the twenties and thirties London is an interesting story in itself). Let’s move on. Everything tells me that Dad is fairly apolitical, if not in the past, then probably now, grown quiet by age. I don’t know the conversations he had with friends then or now. I hardly know anything. Are the New Jersey twins thinking too, of the problem of the person? They are about to enter their AP classes or perhaps freshman classes soon.

We do know that he gambled away paychecks at the Casino. Perhaps he was feeling lucky. He wears the throw of aleatory possibility, if moving to New Jersey and gambling away mortgage money is any indication like he wears his dark five o’ clock shadow: up-front and lightly.