#i just have to remember to not get chocolate milk with it TT

[aastarions]

i went to the beach again yesterday right and the only place i managed to get sunburned was the top of my right hand and a little of my forearm like its such an odd place for me LOL i usually get burnt on my shoulders or chest or smth 

[namuneulbo]

week one hundred and twenty

time for a longer entry for once... i think.

i only met l once this week because he was busy studying for his theory- and practical driving tests. bro, i got like makeout abstinence. one makeout sesh a day keeps the sadness away or something. god, i'm insufferable.

monday was a mess. i went thrifting to look for a cd shelf thingy but ended up with five cds instead. i got automatic by the jesus and mary chain for l and zenyatta mondatta and ghost in the machine by the police, faith by the cure and era vulgaris by queens of the stone age for me. i originally got a morrissey dvd too because it had a lot of the smiths songs on it but ended up not buying it BECAUSE... when i went to check out my stuff my card declined? i had money and my limit was high enough but it just wouldn't work. i tried taking away the morrissey dvd in case my limit actually was being pushed but that didn't work either. thankfully they were able to hold the stuff while i went to take out some cash. i did however call both my mom and my sister in distress.

i actually don't remember shit from tuesday.

i dyed my hair on wednesday! black! i also trimmed my bangs and i might've made them VERY short. i like microbangs though, like, that was what i was going for anyways but it's always just as big of shock each time i trim it. i usually trim it once it starts reaching my eyebrows. anyways, microbangs together with the black makes me feel so alt and cool. i mean, i AM alt, but still. i'm just now getting used to the new look but i've been told by three people now that i fit black very well which is a compliment i haven't gotten for any other color ever so...

i lost crazy much hair while dyeing it and washing it out though, it was almost scary. thought i was gonna end up bald.

in my second class on thursday i had my camera on and s dmed me in the zoom chat and told me my hair was pretty :( it made me so happy :( she asked me if i dyed it recently and then complimented it again TT she's always so sweet, love her!

on thursday i received two packages! one was my digital camera. i'm so excited to start bringing it everywhere and take cute y2k:ey pictures. the quality is just as shitty as i wanted it to be. the other package was a copy of turtles all the way down. i've only read two chapters so far but i'm so excited to read more, i love john's books so much. i'm so excited about having the english hard cover too. it's so pretty.

thursday evening i went to l's place. his parents were gone for the weekend so i expected to stay more than one night but ended up just sleeping there one night because he had plans with his friends friday evening. my way there was a mess, i took the wrong train and ended up two stations wrong. the train line splits in three after a few stations and i just realized the names of the stops started sounding unfamiliar. i got off and switched tracks and went one stop and after walking off at that stop i realized i was supposed to go another stop in the same direction before i was able to switch trains so i had to wait like 10 minutes for the next one and got on that one and then wait another 10 minutes to go on the right train.

at his place we listened to some music and exchanged cds. i gave him the the jesus and mary chain cd and he gave me röd by kent. i also brought some popcorn i had bought before being reminded of the fact that we don't have a microwave at home TT i also brought a vegan chocolate bar. it was white chocolate with rasperries and it sounded so good but i didn't really like it so i brought it for him to try but mainly for his younger sister who i thought would like it since she's allergic to milk and eats a lot of vegan stuff anyways. she ended up really liking it which i'm happy about. later we made dinner with her. i didn't really help but i'm like never allowed TT i try to offer help but they always say there's nothing i can do TT i feel so mean TT

after dinner me and l watched scott pilgrim vs. the world. it's way better the second time and it was so nice to just cuddle and stuff and i almost fell asleep by the end :') after the movie things got a little ;) though. very nice!

(still a virgin).

lowkey would wanna go into detail just for the memories for future old me who might have a sucky memory but i am also in fact posting on the worldwide web! maybe time for a physical and private journal?

i had to wait agessssss for him to wake up the day after. he sleeps for so long. it's funny because it's not very different from how long i sleep for but when i sleep at other places than home i always wake up so early with a full energy bar.

on my way home the train was fucking with me again. i literally got onto the right train but it went the wrong direction? like it literally arrived from the right direction but went back the same way? HOW?

saturday was nice. me and my sister went to the plant store and i got two plants for my room and a pot for the bigger one. i was gonna pick up a sellpy package on the way home anyways and i'd get a pot for the smaller one then anyways. on the way back home we accidentally went on such a detour. i actually have no idea how to use that word? just gooogled it. omväg. vi gick en omväg.

the sellpy package was exciting. the shorts fit really well and they were even low waisted!!! so exciting!!! i got four rings: a mustache ring, a black heart ring, a pink heart ring and a small ring with emerald colored dots. i got a dan and phil poster. such a relic. i'm currently trying to press it straight so it'll actually stay on the wall. i got the pots. it was two in one, a big one that i used as a holder for my brush pens and a small one for the tiny plant i bought and it ended up fitting perfectly. i also got a little cow decor thingy that's supposed to hang on the side of a pot and it looked so cute on the pot i got at the plant store. i also got a vase of a swan. i thought it would be way smaller than it was, like... i literally thought it was an egg cup which is why i got it so i could use it as a little cup for trinkets but it was MASSIVE. my sister wanted it though thankfully!

my cousin came over in the evening and we had dinner. my sisters boyfriend had made mashed potatoes and meatballs. that might be my favorite food of all time. with brown sauce and lingonberry jam and peas and fried onion, UGH, so good. afterwards we played cluedo and had some drinks and then we played our little question game we do where we write down silly or deep questions on a piece of paper and then just draw them and everyone answers. it's so simple yet so fun.

today has been really nice so far. i've been in a really good mood. i put up some leftover kpop prints on my wall. even though i don't care too much for it anymore, it's still fun with less empty walls and honestly, putting those prints up and listening to kpop reawakened something within me. it was so nostalgic and i mean... minhyuk is still a gorgeous man.

i'm on my second coffee right now and i've been writing this entry for so long now. my sister and her boyfriend went to town and they had dinner so now i'm contemplating what to eat. they had max and them mentioning that is making me really crave max so i think i'll probably order myself some max.

i've actually been thinking about doing diary stuff more in real life as well because i've been feeling so inspired by life is strange. like, i think the little profiles max makes of people is such a cute idea but getting pictures of people would be difficult. i'd wanna write about everyone! like, just making a really detailed page about anyone, like a classmate or siblings partner or whatever. it seems like so much fun. i'd need a polaroid camera though or a printer of some sort. i wanna get a polaroid camera anyways so might as well start doing that once i have it. i just need to get my bullet journal here, it's still back home and those are way too expensive to just be buying new ones all the time. it's also so empty. polaroid cameras are so expensive too, like buying film all the time too. so much pressure getting good pictures but that's also kind of the charm, you only get one, maybe two, tries.

sotw: kent - saker man ser

[currywaifu]

← want something else? “hello again, my lovely regular! thank you for your continuous support!” ╰──➢ my anonnie family. i love all of you very much!!! 

╰──➢ links don’t work on mobile, but can be viewed thru the tags~ 

╰──➢ sorted by first to most recent! last update: august 07, 2020

꒰꒰ 🍀 clover ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 12:06 am, may 14, 2020 ⤷ note: i remember tearing up over the fact that i got my first emoji anonnie! i keep the four leaf clovers you gave me close to my heart. clover, you’re easily one of the kindest and most supportive anonnies~ thank you for supporting me and the A3! content creator community

꒰꒰ ⭐ star ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 08:35 pm, may 22, 2020 ⤷ note: i’m not sure at what point i became your mom, but you’re my child now and i love you a lot! seeing you pop in my asks always makes me smile- you seem so pure and adorable!!! makes sense, since you share a birthday with sakuya! also, a barbie stan therefore i stan star too!

꒰꒰ 🌸 sakuranon ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 12:15 am, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: the cheerleader aunt of our family! another very pure and sweet anonnie~ i was really touched to learn i was the first person you sent an ask to :’< i’m so proud you were able to muster up the courage to do that!

꒰꒰ 🍯 honey ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 02:18 am, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: someone i ended up choosing an emoji for! it was an unexpected but fun request! as the emoji implies, an incredibly sweet anonnie! the youngest sibling everyone dotes on in our family~ oikawa simp, very valid!

꒰꒰ 🌙 moonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 11:59 am, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: moon “i came from rou” anonnie~ our vodka aunt who’s a bit of a chaotic mess, but we love them anyway~~ a fellow sweet tooth AND barbie movie stan- absolutely iconic.

꒰꒰ ☁️ cloud-chan ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 05:00 pm, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: a hisoka stan~ thus, a cloud emoji was bestowed unto them because it’s the closest thing we have to a marshmallow~ our social media addicted sister who gives good advice! barbie, monster/ever after high, and theatre stan? actually a legend??? i love you???

꒰꒰ 🍍 anonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 10:11 pm, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: our troublemaker sister! honest? the fact that you like the bratz movies gives me the impression that you’re a baddie and i stan you now

꒰꒰ 🍒 anonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 10:16 pm, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: our playful older sister who likes to tease everyone and make lame puns! has never seen a barbie movie, but honestly still valid~ especially because they’re a fruit emoji and i love fruits~

꒰꒰ 💛 sunny anonnie ˊˎ  ⤷ first visit: 10:25 pm, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: hypothesis: a cute and pure anonnie. proof: used to dance to 12 dancing princesses. very sweet, you make the darker days a lot sunnier! 

꒰꒰ 🐣 anonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 11:54 pm, may 29, 2020 ⤷ note: whenever you call me “friend” i get very uwu soft TT when you said you got interested in editing bc of me i got even more uwu for you. i love you a lot!

꒰꒰ 🍡 dangonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 03:53 pm, may 30, 2020 ⤷ note: our so, so, so adorable and excitable middle child! the cookies you gave me and the rest of the family was absolutely delicious! thank you for always making sure every new anonnie got one!!! 

꒰꒰ 🔺 sankakunnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 12:15 am, may 31, 2020 ⤷ note: apparently i follow them? uwu may or may not know who they are but i think they’re a funny anonnie! kins misumi and a sakyo simp? so valid omg. we platonically love each other~ also, gave everyone milk! calcium is important!!!!

꒰꒰ 🌷 tullie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 06:46 pm, june 01, 2020 ⤷ note: the one who helped me start a whole ask saga about barbie movies hehe~ also a musical stan? and a design student? i may not know a lot about their OC, but she’s a ballerina who did a Swan Lake play and I super stan that.

꒰꒰ 🐧 anonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 11:54 pm, june 02, 2020 ⤷ note: cute!!! uses really cute kaomojis~ don’t worry about not visiting often, you’ll always be welcome any time!

꒰꒰ 🐝 bee, bb, beeb, bbee, beebee, ... ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 11:54 pm, june 02, 2020 ⤷ note: the anonnie with a multitude of bee nicknames~ very sweet and cute, remember to not stress yourself out! take a deep breath and take care of yourself, okay?

꒰꒰ 💌💐 mizunonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 02:42 pm, june 05, 2020 ⤷ note: apparently i’m the tsuzuru to your mizuno? fufufu~ another one who’s a barbie + theatre stan!!! i always enjoy seeing you~ the combi of emojis in my asks? cute~ TT i adored talking about theatre with you!!

꒰꒰ 🦊 kitsunnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 12:05 pm, june 07, 2020 ⤷ note: hi i have a platonic crush on you too~ i really like foxes, too! 

꒰꒰ 🍞 anonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 01:41 pm, june 08, 2020 ⤷ note: you’re very sweet~ even if you’re not active on my blog, i look forward to when i see you next!

꒰꒰ uwu annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 12:00 am, june 11, 2020 ⤷ note: my first non emoji anonnie! immediately cute because of the name alone! super memorable bc of that triangle pick up line, pffft~

꒰꒰ ❄️ annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 08:31 pm, june 11, 2020 ⤷ note: gave me ice cream & chocolate, therefore i love them! very sweet, with good taste in music (looking at you, the contract)... has a dozen nicknames, and more to come. so far my personal favorites are elsa and yule log cake

꒰꒰ 🥬 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 02:35 am, june 14, 2020 ⤷ note: fufu i know who you are~ and i love and support you a lot! thank you for being there for me since almost the beginning! and thank you for lending me your braincell ehehe~

꒰꒰ 🍄 mushroomie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 09:07 pm, june 13, 2020 ⤷ note: i remember crying about your first emoji ask eye TT i just want to let you know that you brighten up my day too!

꒰꒰ 🌻 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 01:39 amm, june 14, 2020 ⤷ note: thank you for the sunflowers! i have 3 from you rn! they remind me of the sunflowers outside my high school~ sunflowers always make me happy!

꒰꒰ 🐠 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 01:12 pm, june 14, 2020 ⤷ note: we haven’t interacted much, but i hope you’re enjoying A3! so far!

꒰꒰ 🧀 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 02:34 am, june 25, 2020 ⤷ note: a quiet sleepy bb like hisoka~ i like cheese, therefore i like cheese anonnie a lot too!

꒰꒰ 🧸 teddy ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 05:17 pm, june 25, 2020 ⤷ note: i don’t know much about you yet, but you’re a fwuffy person!

꒰꒰ 🎈 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 12:52 am, july 29, 2020 ⤷ note: i think i know who you are, aND I WANT YOU TO KNOW I GOT REALLY SENTI AND UWU CRYING OVER YOU

꒰꒰ 🥭 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 10:40 pm, july 31, 2020 ⤷ note: fewwo fiwipino! (nagcrave ako ng mangga dahil sayo) ur so sweet, ur first message had me uwu-ing~!

꒰꒰ 🏐 annonie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 11:02 pm, july 31, 2020 ⤷ note: haikyuu stan! gr8 taste!!! i mean, best boyos are noya, yaku, suga, kenma, and akaashi? *chef’s kiss* we can cry about haikyuu together!

꒰꒰ OwO-chan~ ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 04:03 pm, august 03, 2020 ⤷ note: ICONIC taste like barbie? danganronpa? this is true duality and i stan so hard

꒰꒰ 🐁 anonnie ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 05:01 pm, august 04, 2020 ⤷ note: obey me writer! is slowly but surely building up intimacy points w/ me... what is mouse-chan planning to do with them, tho :O

꒰꒰ 🐏 ram-chan ˊˎ - ⤷ first visit: 05:17 pm, august 04, 2020 ⤷ note: ENABLED MY EVER AFTER HIGH SELF AND I AM SCREAMING- briar beauty stans solidarity- briar beauty sUPREMACY

[abbysenglish]

#summerstudyingchallenge

last post because i start classes tomorrow! been busy moving into my apartment and organizing for the upcoming school year, but i had a really fun time doing this! thank you @myhoneststudyblr for creating this challenge :)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

08.20.2020 -  If you could make up a new ice cream flavour, what ingredients would you use? What would you call it?

mint chocolate chip boba

mixing my two favorite flavors

08.21.2020 - If there was a tropical island made just for you, what would you find on it?

all the rollercoasters in the world

unlimited supply of food and *fresh water

books. books upon books

08.22.2020 -  Imagine that you could fill a swimming pool with anything except water and swim in it. What would your pool be filled with?

milk tea

bc im obsessed

08.23.2020 - Do you miss school/university/work during the summer?

yes and no

perfect timing because i start school tomorrow......TT

i like being busy and studying and learning

but i also like my free time, which school can take a lot from, especially when i have a lot of work to get done

if you're in school already or starting soon, good luck and i hope you all have a great year! remember to take a step back when you feel overwhelmed and give yourself a break from working hard. your overall health is more important in the end!

p.s stay safe during these times <33

[apolosgirl]

Tagged by: @thenorthenstar YAY THANKS BABE

Rules: Tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better.

Top Three Ships:

Wow have we started like this? Okay hã... Right /help

1. Wolfstar ♥ 2. Drarry 3. Connor/Gabriel (TT and Jess you did it. They made me obsess over these two.) 

4. Grindeldore. 5. Jily 6. James II x Teddy 7. Lope (BUT LUPINA IS JUST THREE) 8. Viktor x Ron 9. Nymphadora x Fleur (LUPINA PLS STOP) 10. Dorlene 11. Rolf x Luna (GIRL CALM DOWN) 12. Pansmione 13. Perciver...

... Okay I'll stop now.

Last movie at the cinema:

Avengers Endgame - 2019 (Brazilian cinemas are really expensive *cry*)

Last movie at home:

Oh I don’t remember. Maybe Harry Potter...? Yeah I think it is Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I just love so much this movie.

Reading:

Lethal White: Cormoran Strike - Robert Galbraith (love this serie)

What food are you craving right now?

Brownie. Just a huge, delicious piece of chocolate brownie. And coffee with milk. Tagging: @asktheboywholived @sirussly @pauleonotis @maqicool @alessiajontrunfio @lentejart @craftgamerzz @littlebitellie @latibaris

[microsoftedgy69]

Goliath, part 2

[prologue] [part 1]

You're in the middle of sparring when you realize. The main plan doesn't exactly involve much actual combat, but some of the What-Ifs do. If push comes to shove, you might have to go hand to hand at some point, and you haven't done that in half a decade -- because you were glasses for most of that time, and terrified of physical violence for the rest -- so you made yourself a classic old sparring bot to get back into it. It's simple, pure metal with no discernible face and a fighting program that's supposed to learn from your moves and attempt to always get one step ahead of you. It's Brobot without the emotional baggage, essentially.

You're not far from the shore where your boat is anchored, and are rolling through the dirt with a pair of metal wrists in your hand, when you realize that you have been corrupted.

Something is wrong with your output. When you go through your logs, they tell you that you must have been talking, even though you don't remember saying anything. When you check your blog, there are several posts you don't recall putting there. You hurry to check your messages, but it doesn't seem to have gone that far -- thankfully, you haven’t told any of your friends to obey, submit, or consume lately.

Yesterday's craving for cookies makes more sense now, you think. It's also fantastically ridiculous.

It doesn't worry you much. You can get her propaganda out of your system, you've done it before. It doesn't worry you much, until you try to move away from the sparring bot, and your body does something entirely else instead.

In stunned silence, you watch your first surge forward and, with force you knew you had in you but never actually used, punch right into the metal head. You watch the material give, dent, then break, watch the edges cut into your hand, wrist, then arm. Your shark skin is so tough that in the year of you having it, nothing has actually broken through it before, but this will do it.

You have pain receptors, carefully crafted long ago, but you don’t feel anything, right now. You feel like you are glasses again, perched on somebody else’s nose, watching idly whatever the hell this guy is doing with his body. None of it seems like a very good idea, to you, but it doesn’t feel like your call to make. Your hand takes a shard of metal from the sparring bot’s face, and then your body pushes itself upright. You look down as you get a better grip on the shard, aim, and plunge it right into your own stomach.

Hm.

Well.

That doesn’t really do much of anything to you. You still don’t feel any pain, and when you pull the piece of metal back out of yourself, you can see something thick and brown ooze out of the wound.

It’s chocolate milk.

You must have hit your synthetic stomach that also doesn’t actually do much, digestion-wise. It just sort of keeps the food there for a bit until you go to the bathroom. This will be a bitch to fix, but it’s nothing you’re not prepared for.

The thought pulls you back, pulls your mind in between your shoulders, pushes your thoughts through the wires inside your arms. Yeah, right, you were prepared for this. It’s not part of Plan A. You didn’t want this to happen, but you suspected it might. Your emergency protocol in case of corruption was to put up a bunch of fake information about yourself she could find, like that your vital hardware is located in your stomach. It’s not. That would be stupid. It’s sprinkled all over your body in multiple hard to reach places, like the important piece of storage that’s lodged deep in your right thigh. She doesn’t seem to know that, which means she can’t have gotten very far yet.

You can get her back out.

Unfortunately, realizing what’s happening and pulling your consciousness back into your body has reminded you that you can, in fact, feel pain.

Crying out, you crumple to the floor, your good hand clutching your bad hand clutching your stomach. For several seconds, you don’t know where to start -- you can turn off the pain, but you should amp up your security software first, you need to get her out but you can’t do that if your mind is clouded with the pain of a stab wound to the guts and your hand falling apart but if you waste too much time getting the pain under control she might advance further into your data and you can’t have her finding out where your real vital hardware lies ---

Your scream rips through the undergrowth, loud enough to make a flock of birds flee from a nearby tree, to make you feel the vibrations of your own voice hum through the roof of your mouth. That helped. Kicking her out is a matter of a few, practiced steps. You can take care of the pain later; you’ve felt worse before.

So you stay where you are, curled up into a little ball, eyes screwed shut, teeth clenched, fingers twisting into each other, enduring. You’ve stopped crying out -- you’ve stopped making any noise at all, only focusing on your very inside, on what keeps you running, what makes you you. This by far isn’t her first attempt at corrupting you or your brothers, and over the years you’ve learned to adapt, keep updating your anti-virus, keep finding new measures that keep up with whatever she has been up to. You assume that this time she got in because you must have left some sort of trace on the drone you and Roxy sent her, which of course isn’t ideal. It means, however, that you opened the door for her, and you damn well know how to close it again.

She doesn’t put up much of a fight. You assume that she got what she came here for -- your vital organs and your immediate future plans. If you put up enough of a struggle, you figure, she will believe in that success.

The second you reach 0% corruption, you slump forward, face first into the dirt. It muffles your pained groan for the few beats you spend like this, before your feet start shifting against the ground in an attempt to somehow deal with the feeling of having a hole in your stomach. The way through your programming to turn off pain, at least, is a quick one now.

You flip the switch, and stop feeling anything. The moan you let out doesn’t vibrate through your mouth, but at least you hear it. You almost laugh at yourself. You don’t quite feel like it, though.

Walking the Earth with your touch receptors turned off is always weird, but it helps you get things done quickly. You check in on your brothers first, to make sure neither of them got caught in any sort of crossfire. They are fine, your plants are fine, your cat and your fish are fine. You want to pat yourself on the back for acting quickly enough, but once you chuck the broken sparring bot into your workroom and then sit down there to fix yourself, that sentiment leaves you pretty quickly.

You fix your stomach, then glue the cuts in your skin shut again, both your stomach and your hand. It looks like you have scars now, for the first time in your artificial life. In the back of the room, you have way more skin left over, rolled up like fabric, but you’d have to sew a whole new suit from it if you wanted to keep a body without scars. You don’t have time for that right now. You have to-- you want to act fast.

You have just about fucking had it.

Once you’re all glued up, you turn your receptors back on, then leave the workroom to say goodbye to the bots, your pets, and all of your plants. You check your sylladex to make sure that you have what you need on you -- a copy of SBURB, Dirk’s hand grenade. You step out on the deck, unnecessarily roll your shoulders, and message Roxy.

They reply immediately.

TT: She took the bait. See you in Rainbow Falls in five. TG: EFFIN finally TG: make it 3

Three it is. You nod to yourself, and open every other conversation that currently matters to you. To Alma, you say,

TT: Hey, I gotta bounce. There’s a note on the fridge about pet and plant care. TT: Thanks. TT: You know, for all of it. TT: Catch you on the flipside.

Messaging Palooka makes you a bit more nervous, but you don’t want to leave without another word.

TT: I’m off now. TT: Still reachable, but I’m on my way. TT: Just wanted to let you know. TT: I’ll stop by when I’m back.

You open your conversation with your… your ex-boyfriend, you suppose, too. You haven’t talked, since you told him what you’re doing. Something in you wants to let him know, but you don’t quite see the point in telling him that you’re actually leaving now. You wouldn’t know what to say, anyway. And if you stare at this any longer, your three minutes will be up.

sometimes to get to god, first you gotta meet the devil.

Your name used to be Dirk Strider. When you were a child, you were the loneliest person in the universe, and all you wanted to do was matter. Then one day, when you were thirteen, you woke up and were not Dirk Strider anymore. You had been demoted to a knock-off, a less important version of yourself that couldn’t physically do anything, that nobody cared about. You had to sit back and watch other people be relevant, watch other people do things and take control of their lives, while you were struggling with the mere concept of being a living person.

Jake doesn’t understand your constant urge to mean something. You didn’t expect him to; he’s been through this, he’s played his own session of the Game, he doesn’t want to hear anything about it anymore. You get it. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to understand that you need this, that you’ve been craving this since the second you were transferred into a pair of sunglasses, and that it’s the one, the final thing you have to do, to prove to yourself that you are a person.

You are real and you exist in this world, and you are going to leave a dent in it.

You sit on the roof of Roxy’s house while they set up the computers for your two-player session, and you send out pings into the universe. She will come here. You know she will. She found your fake body blueprints, and she found your fake future plans that showed you stopping her whole operation from Earth. She has enough incentive to get her shitty red spaceship back here, but no idea what actually awaits her. No idea that you and Roxy are ready to fuck this entire timeline just to get back at her.

You sit on the roof of Roxy’s house, and you wait for Her Imperial Condescension to come to you, so you can kill her. She will do what you want her to. People always do, sooner or later. You will get her where you want her, then you will induce the apocalypse, and kill the tyrant that has tormented you over the course of your entire existence.

And then, you think, with all of that out of the way, with your home timeline reduced to dust and your nemesis caught in the ensuing detonation of all you knew growing up, you will finally be ready, to go. To move on.

This is your moment in the spotlight. None of this is necessary for anyone else, except for maybe Roxy -- this planet is dead. Sitting on the roof, you overview the remnants of a society that has long since been eradicated. You are doing this for yourself. You are making yourself relevant, to only yourself.

It’s your gift, to you.

You run your fingertips over your other hand, feeling the scars in the rough skin of your forearm, and close your eyes. It feels good to be real.

[strawbterrys]

💖 🌹🍫 💗 🕊 🍰 💘 ⚘ 🍨 💝 💌 💋 🍒 💓 💐 💕 💫 🍓 🍦 ❣

💖 🌹🍫 💗 🕊 🍰 💘 ⚘ 🍨 💝 💌 💋 🍒 💓 💐 💕 💫 🍓 🍦 ❣

ok woW u asked ALL of them DBDIDOSMSMABD

Also sorry to my followers bc idk how to put stuff under the cut? So scroll super fast lol if u don't wanna see!!

💖 have you ever been in love? are you in love rn?

im not sure..i think so..? idk i haven’t rlly been in many relationships but I know whenever my gf talks to me I get all excited and happy!!!!! if it isn't love then idk what is!!!!!!!

but i believe in being in love platonically, if it makes sense? like i know it's a bit of an oxymoron but i love my friends and being appreciated by them and making them happy and spending time with them just!! wrow!!!

🌹 what do you think are the most romantic flowers other than roses?

answered!

🍫 do you have a favorite chocolate or sweet?

UUUU THATS SO HARD I HAVE SUCH A SWEET TOOTH LIKE .. WROW. ummmm. OH ! PANCAKES I LOVE PANCAKES THEYRE SO SOFT N FLUFFY AND PERFECTLY SWEET !! 💗✨🥞✨💗

OR BOBA!!! I LOVE BOBA in my milk tea!! Okinawa and matcha milk tea in particular are super good

💗 how do you show you care? what do people do that makes you feel loved?

I try to be considerate of ppls feelings. Like, I'll try to remember things abt them and i actually love spoiling my friends when I can? i guess I feel loved when ppl do the same for me, heheh;;

🕊 what do you think about marriage? how would you like to be proposed to?

marriage seems sorta scary on one hand,  but on the other,, spending the rest of my life with the person I love sounds pretty great too!! As for the specific proposal, Hifumi would invite me to the host club the works at and w

🍰 what’s your favorite dessert to eat? do you have a favorite to make?

macarons are fun to make! I always struggle and I wasted like 8 eggs trying to get the bitchass merengue to form and UGH but they're still fun,, esp when  u make them with friends! Also I liked shaved snow w pocky, mochi, and condensed milk yummm

💘 you would fall in love with someone who…

bro this is so embarrassing my answers are all the same pls just . just show me i matter to u

that or be @pukaaz

🍨 describe your ideal first date, what about it makes it perfect?

i actually rlly like aquariums! i love them bc theres so many interesting fish and sealife and just uGH I LOVE THE VIBES AQUARIUMS GIVE  YFEEL? LIKE im that bitch who collects every fucking fish in animal crossing and then sits in my museum watching them for five hours

They just make me feel so peaceful. A first date shouldnt be super nerve wracking and I would love to just be able to chill out and enjoy smth tranquil like that

(And obv we have to get ice cream or boba  aND!! I WANT A PLUSHIE FROM THE AQUARIUM GIFT SHOP DUH)

💝 what gift would you like to receive? what type do you like to give?

I like getting stuffed animals… or things that maybe I've  mentioned wanting and they remembered like?? Ok?? Wowowo???? and same thing when giving like i one of my dearest friends mentioned on her ig abt a plush she wanted so like...maybe a year later? idk?? i finally found it and got it for her and her reaction was so happy it was absolutely worth the trouble

💌 love letters or poetry? love songs or mixtapes? make out sessions or snuggling?

LOVE LETTERS VALIDATE ME   P L E A SE

and mixtapes!!! And snuggling bc im.  Tooshytokissanyonernoknextquestion-

💋 lipgloss, lipstick, or chapstick?

answered!

🍒 which is better- a down to earth, comfortable love or an exciting, butterflies in your stomach type of love?

umm .. im sorta shy so like. i get butterflies over literally anything? so someone who could be patient enough until im more comfortable would be so nice AHHHH cozy… (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

💓 what do people do that makes your heart skip a beat? what makes your heart melt?

honestly there's been so few times when this has happened like validation whomst but again,,, nothing makes me feel warmer than when ppl do stuff that shows they care,, like double messaging or remembering stuff abt me or knowing smths wrong w me without me even having to say smth

💐 how would you woo someone? how do you flirt?

I! CANNOT! FLIRT! ohmygod. but maybe i’d just try and spend time with them and pay attention to their interests? i’d also try to make sure they knew they’re appreciated

💕 vague about your crush or partner?

shes very pretty!! i had a fATASS CRUSH on her as soon as we became friends a few years ago but APPARENTLY she knew because i’m “”””obvious””””

nyways, she's super duper funny and her laugh is so cute!!! she doesn't love herself and i rlly wanna help her see how great she is!!!

💫 do you get crushes easily? what makes you fall for someone?

literally anytime someone decent looking even says my name I start blushing like an iDIOT but my validation deprivation (rhymes...hypmic wya) makes me interpret any form of non-hostile treatment as like… grounds for a crush? jesus.

as for what makes me actually fall for someone

hmm.... i think people remembering me and the things important to me really just makes me feel like i matter, and when even IM able to feel like i matter a LOT to someone? If it gets to a point where i,,, the most insecure person on the PLANET,,, knows that this person cares about me? Bam. I love u,,,, u own my heart,,, take my firstborn and h

🍓 what are you doing for valentine’s day? do you have any self care plans?

since its may already, i dont rlly know what i’m gonna do. hopefully by then i’ll be able to see my gf and obv shower her w love n affection and gifts and fun trip out somewhere, and also my friends! i try my best to come up with little gifts for them each year but I've been failing miserably the past two years TT

🍦 what are ten things you love about youself?

answered!!

❣ red, pink, or purple? glitter or sequins? silk or velvet?

PINK!!! look at my bLog BRO! also hmm….glitter….and velvet! PINK GLITTER VELVET

[batfam-imagines]

Single Mom

Let me know what you think!

Being a single mom was not something that you had ever expected your future to hold. Having to leave your home in Star City and go back to Gotham in order to get you and your baby away from an abusive ex even less so.

“Thanks for letting me stay with you, Roy”

“It’s no problem, Y/N, you and Jackson are welcome to stay as long as you want. Trust me, I know all about needed to get away from Star City”

You reach out and pull your cousin into a tight hug, “We won’t be staying long, I already have a job and just need to look for an apartment”

“Don’t worry about it. I know that Gotham can be a difficult city to find a safe apartment in.”

“Tell me about it, luckily your dad sent in a good word to Bruce Wayne and I’m going to be his new secretary. It’s a surprisingly good salary, hopefully I’ll be able to save enough to get us out of Crime Alley – Not that your apartment isn’t nice! I just -”

“You just don’t want to raise a three year old in Crime Alley. Don’t worry, I understand”

“You can come live with us, get to a better neighborhood”

Roy ruffles your hair, “Nah, cousin, I like it here, this place has grown on me. And plus, if I leave whose gonna make sure that the girls on the corner ain’t pushed around?”

“So you look out for the hookers?”

“They’re sweet ladies, they just gotta do what they gotta do. I just make sure that the Johns don’t get too rough, and if they need a snack I’ll toss down a few things”

“You’re such a bleeding heart, Roy!”

“I can’t help it! They have kids and some guys can be assholes”

You let out a dry chuckle, “I know all about guys being assholes. Trust me”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N” Roy pulls you down onto the couch, “Do you think Jacks will remember anything?”

“I hope not, the only time he really saw Lyle hit me was when we were trying to leave, at least I hope that’s the only time he saw it. Jackson’s a smart kid though, hopefully he’s too young to remember anything.”

“You think he’s gonna try and sue for custody?”

“I sure as hell hope not”

Roy smirks, “For his sake I hope to hell he stays far away from Gotham”

--

Six months later finds you in your own apartment in a much nicer side of Gotham than Roy’s apartment in Crime Alley. Jackson’s been enrolled in pre-school, and then goes to daycare while you’re at work.

“Mommy!”

You kneel down, easily catching your son in your arms, “Hey, pumpkin! I missed you”

“I missed you too, Mommy!”

Scooping up the now four year old boy you turn and head back to your car, “I have a little bit of work that I still need to do at the office, okay sweetheart? Will you be a good boy and draw me a picture while I work?”

The smile your son gives you is bright enough to warm your heart, “Yeah! And I can tell you about my new friends!”

“Of course, Jacks, of course. You know I always want to hear about your day”

Jackson continues to talk while you drive back to WE, “And everyone’s my friend! Even the teacher is really cool! She says that I’m super smart because I already know how to write my name and read some!”

Thankfully Jackson’s always been eager to learn. He took to reading relatively quickly, and even wants to try learning how to speak another language. The woman down the hall from your apartment likes to speak to Jackson in Italian, and has started to teach you and Jackson a few phrases.

“Did you show her that you can add and subtract too?”

“No, Mrs. Ellie said that we get to do math tomorrow, so I have to wait”

“Well, if you want you can practice your math when we get inside, just to make sure that you haven’t forgotten anything”

Jackson’s eyes light up, “Yeah! You’re so smart Mommy”

“Thanks, pumpkin”

Once you get Jackson set up with his math problems, several sheets of paper, and a cup of juice, you can finally finish your work for the day. Most people think that being a secretary is easy work, and it might be if you worked for anyone other than Bruce Wayne. Mr. Wayne who was constantly canceling or rescheduling meetings, having some kind of scandal, or hosting some kind of party, was a lot of work to keep up with.

“Mommy?”

“Hmm?”

“How long are we gonna be here? I’m hungry”

“I’m almost done, sweetheart. I just need to make a few more of these invitations so I can send them out tomorrow and then we can go.”

“Y/N?”

You whip around, coming face to face with your boss. “Mr. Wayne?! What are you doing here so late? I though you left at 3 today”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “I could ask you the same thing considering I know you left at 5 pm, but here you are at 6:30pm and still working”

“I – I had to pick up my son” you make an aborted gesture towards the four-year-old, “and I had to come back to finish these invitations for the gala in two weeks …”

“I didn’t even know that you had a son”

“Well, I try not to bring up my personal life at the office, I mean I’m just your secretary Mr. Wayne”

“Yes, but you’ve been with me for over six months and I still never knew that you had a son. Hasn’t he gotten sick or anything?”

“Well, my cousin Roy can usually watch Jackson when he’s sick so I don’t have to take time off work. I mean I can’t really afford to miss much, it’s a little difficult to be a single mom and pay rent. I was only just recently able to move out of Crime Alley and I’d like to be able to stay out of there”

“I’m … sorry. I always asked you to work weekends, or come in after hours. I never realized you had a son” Mr. Wayne pauses for a minute, “You mentioned your cousin. Roy? Would that happen to be Roy Harper?”

“Yeah, actually. Do you know him?”

“He and my sons, Jason and Dick, are good friends”

“Yeah, he mentioned a Jason and Dick, but I never got the chance to meet them before I moved out.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry”

“Sorry, baby, I’m almost done. Do you want some fruit snacks?”

“Yeah!” You quickly pull out a pack of fruit snacks and pull it open. “Thanks”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Wayne, but I need to finish this up so I can figure out some dinner”

“Actually, I was going to go to dinner with my sons and I wanted to know if you and Jackson would like to come. It’d be my treat”

“I can’t ask that of you, Mr. Wayne”

“Call me Bruce, and I insist. You’ve made my life so much easier these past few months that dinner for you and your son would be the least I can do. What do you think, Jackson? Would you like to go out for dinner with my sons and I?”

“Yes, please!”

You narrow your eyes at your boss, “What was a dirty trick, Mr. Wayne, using my own son against me”

“Come on, Y/N, it’s just dinner. And three of my sons are close to your age, I know that you don’t have very many friends your own age, not with how much time you spend here and then with how much you must spend with your boy”

“Please, Mommy? Can we please go? I promise I’ll be good and I’ll use all my manners”

“Fine, we can go, but you have to clean up after yourself first”

Jackson scrambles to get everything in order. He puts all of his papers in his backpack, and throws away his juice cup and snack wrapper. “All clean”

“All right” Quickly logging out of your computer and gathering your own things, you turn back to the billionaire, “So, where are we going?”

--

You all arrive at the small diner at the same time. “Boys, I’d like you to meek Y/N and her son, Jackson. She was working late tonight and though it would be nice if they joined us”

“Hi, I’m Dick” The man grins, his blue eyes sparkle with the light of a man that’s seen a lot in his life, but still manages to see the good in everyone. “It’s really nice to meet you guys” He doesn’t seem to know how to handle Jackson though, so it’s obvious that he’s never been around kids.

The second man that steps forward is huge. He’s about as big as Bruce, but he has gunmetal grey eyes and a strange white streak in his hair. “I’m Jason” As soon as you let go of his hand Jason crouches down and smiles at Jackson, “Hey, big man. My name’s Jason, what’s yours?”

The little boy grins and to your surprise darts forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Jason’s neck. “My name’s Jackson, but mommy calls me Jacks”

Jason pulls back slightly, a soft smile on his handsome face, “Oh yeah, bud? And what does your daddy call you?”

You twitch not expecting the question, but before you can even open your mouth Jackson answers, “Well, my father liked to call me bad names, like bastard and little shit, and he used to hit mommy, but mommy and me left to come here and live with Uncle Roy”

Everyone paused, either in shock or in horror at what Jackson had just said. Slowly crouching down and pulling Jackson away from Jason, “Baby, we talked about this, remember? We said that we weren’t ever gonna tell people about your father and what he did.”

“I know, but -”

“You promised that you wouldn’t tell people, Jackson. When people ask where your father is you tell them …”

“That I don’t have one” Jackson’s lip wobbles, “’m sorry, mommy”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come on, lets meet everyone else and then we can eat, alright?”

“Okay”

--

Dinner is a surprisingly fun affair. It’s full of the brothers constantly picking at each other, Bruce trying to control his sons, and your own son’s laughter. Jackson seems to bond even more with Jason and, to everyone’s apparent surprise, Damian.

Damian places the menu on the table, “No, Jackson, chocolate milk is obviously superior to plain milk, so that is what we shall get”

“You like chocolate milk too?!”

“tt – of course.”

“Mommy, can I have chocolate milk?”

“Only a small cup, I don’t want you to have too much sugar before bedtime”

Jackson’s smile is bright, “Thank you!”

Jason smiles at you, watching his youngest brother and your son debate which is better, grilled cheese or chicken nuggets. “He’s a cute kid”

“Thanks”

“He’s pretty damn smart too. He was telling me about his math and reading when you were talking to Tim and Bruce about work.”

Your eyes soften when they fall on your boy, “He’s always been smart and he soaks up new information like a sponge. He likes to watch animal documentaries instead of cartoons, and one of my neighbors is teaching him a little bit of Italian.”

“Even smarter than I thought” Jason’s eyes meet yours, “You know you’re pretty awesome too”

“I just your dad’s secretary, Jason”

“You’ve also gotten yourself out of an abusive relationship, and are raising a pretty awesome kid”

A blush starts creeping up your cheeks, “Thank you. You seem to be pretty good with kids you know”

“Before Bruce adopted me I lived in Crime Alley, there were a lot of kids on the street that needed to be looked after. I honestly think that kids can sense that I’ve had experience, that I like to be around kids”

The chocolate milk comes for Damian and Jackson, when Damian just tries to drink it Jackson shows him the wonder of blowing milk bubbles, “I was surprised when he hugged you. Ever since we left his father he’s been wary of strange men, the only man he really likes is Roy. Damian I can understand because he’s young, but you’re huge and basically a stranger”

“Kids have pretty good instincts, especially ones who’ve witnessed abuse”

Jackson lets out another shrieking giggle, this time at Dick and Tim fighting over the last French fry, “You guys are just really good with him” Dick starts whining when he realizes that Jackson stole the fry among all the fighting. Bruce calls the waitress over and orders another three servings of fries.

“So, I know that we only just met, but I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”

“Yes!” Both you and Jason look at Jackson in surprise, “Say yes, mommy!”

“You want me to go on a date with Jason?”

Damian snorts, “tt – you would be an acceptable partner for Todd, much better than any other woman he has brought around. The child is also acceptable, I quite enjoy his company”

“Glad we have your approval, Demon Brat, but it’s up to Y/N whether or not she wants to go out with me”

Giving Jason a shy smile you nod, “I think I’d really like to go out with you, Jason. I mean Roy had some pretty good things to say about you, and if you’re his best friend than I guess you must be a pretty good guy”

Jason’s grin is blinding, and Jackson cheers, “Yay, mommy!”

--

Jason’s out patrolling, making one last round before heading in for the night. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since Y/N said yes to a date, but that smile is quickly wiped off his face when a red arrow hits his helmet.

“Hood!”

Jason yanks off the helmet, looking up in shock at his best friend, “What the fuck, Roy?! Did you just shoot an arrow at me?!”

“That was a warning shot. You hurt my baby cousin or her boy and the next time I shoot, you won’t be wearing the helmet. Understand?”

“Yeah – Yeah I understand”

Slowly Roy unnotched his arrow, sliding it back into his quiver, “Good. Jay, I love you like a brother, but I’m serious, you hurt either of them and I’ll kill you”

[heaven-delight]

[ETC] 170716 FANBOARD EVENT - Yeri

Hi~ Nice to meet you~ Luvies1~ Uncle2 Rim3 has appeared

I’m gonna start now~ Come on!

Yerim~ Here are sincere book recommendations for you~ Uh~

When you recommended “Was? Wäre? Wenn?” on Instagram, I finished reading the whole book the next day! I think it’s been two years since I’ve read a book... Consider these recommendations from me as a thank you gift~ I don’t know if you’ve read mystery novels, but if you finish reading “The Devotion of Suspect X,” you’ll feel like it’s a great name for this novel! It’s a really fun book. “Ties of Shooting Stars” this is made up of two books, and although it’s kinda loose, it has a plot twist!! Recommend lots of books for us~ I’ll read a lot of books and recommend books to you~~

→ Yeri: Oh that’s super great hehehe I’ll read them! You’re the best, luvie!

Kim Yerim where are you kekekekeke

Hurry up hehe

→ Yeri: I’m over here

Yerim, your dark circles...

You have dark circles under your eyes...

I could see them in the V-Apps, the music shows and even on the “Knowing Bros” episode yesterday..

I know it must be tough for you, preparing for your comeback and going through all those schedules TT

Since it’s the summer, remember to get good food, good sleep and good rest!

Yeri! Red Velvet! Good luck to everyone!!

→ Yeri: I’ll cover the dark circles...

Ms. Yerim! Ms. Yerim! Ms. Yerim! If you had a week for yourself right now, what is the first thing you want to do?

→ Yeri: I’m gonna travel

Ms. Yerim~~~ What do you order at a bingsu4 place? Coffee bingsu vs Fruit bingsu vs Cheese bingsu vs Green tea bingsu?? What do you eat?? ^^

→ Yeri: I like milk bingsu without red bean paste

Yerim, do you have anything you want to eat these days??

What is it?? Tteokbokki??5

→ Yeri: Right now.... I want to eat sweet potato pizza.. With lots of cheese....?

Do you have any movies that you had fun watching recently?

I’m outside right now, and I’m thinking about watching a movie!!

→ Yeri: The most recent movie I watched was “Anarchist from Colony!”

Yerim, I had fun watching “Knowing Bros”

It was fun TT

→ Yeri: Did you have fun...? kekekekeke I haven’t watched it yet... I’m worried kekekeke

Ms. Yerim when you’re feeling down, how do you cheer yourself up?

→ Yeri: Hmmm... I buy an excessive amount of books and read a lot of them. Cheer up!

Yerim could you recommend some of the songs you’re listening to these days

What could there,,be?

→ Yeri: I’m listening to the OSTs of “Fight My Way” a lot these days, but out of those, I’m listening to Kassy’s “Good Morning” a lot. Eventhough the drama is over, I’m still hooked on to the songs

Yerim! Compliments for the pigtails you wore during the “Knowing Bros” skits!!

It’s cute.. TT

→ Yeri: Pigtails? kekkeke Thank youu

Yerim!! What’s your favorite song out of “The Red Summer??”

I like “Mojito!!”

→ Yeri: For me, it’s “Zoo!”

I read the books that you read, Yerm6, “Malice” and “The Good Son!!”

Personally, I thought Keigo Higashino’s “Malice” was super fun...

→ Yeri: hehehe I really like Keigo Higashino’s books too. They’re good.

I shall ask this politely...

I am curious about what Yerm’s favorite colors are 

→ Yeri: Black, white, pink. I shall answer politely too kekeke

Did you have lunch? What did you eat?!

Did you have lots of yummy food TTTTTT *sniffles*

→ Yeri: I ate two ice creams so far kekeke Instead of eating food I’m just eating snacks

Yeri why do you want to travel to the UK so much?

I saw you say it on “Knowing Bros,” so I’m curious

→ Yeri: Because I’m a huge fan of Harry Potter! 

Did you succeed in getting tickets for the Ariana Grande concert??

??

→ Yeri: Didn’t the ticketing period end.. TT

Yerim, what do you order when you go to a cafe?

→ Yeri: I... right now, I usually order vanilla smoothies, but I drink americanos too and like milk tea too

Yerim!! What book are you reading these days??

Recommend books for me ♥ ♥

→ Yeri: I’m reading “The Moment!” I’ve never spent so much time reading a book before/

Ms. Yerim~~~ Did you have any nicknames when you were young? What’s your favorite nickname??

→ Yeri: I think I’d been called as “Yerm” the most hehehe

Yerim did you buy lots of snacks??

You said that you were going to bring Japanese snacks home..

→ Yeri: Er.. What was the name of it.. I absolutely love eating the Alfort chocolates, shiori koibito and coconut ice cream TTT My favorite snacks

Young and rich and pretty Yerm~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yerm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! is my luv

→ Yeri: What’s this kekekekek You’re young and rich, pretty too!

The oldest members did a cover stage of Greedy, right? What song do you want to do a cover stage of, Yerim?

Every song? Or Greedy Younger Member ver.? kekeke Personally, I want to hear you sing “The Way” ~.~

→  Yeri: Oh recommend more songs to me! Give me idea

Did you read "Miracles of the Namiya General Store?

That's really fun too TT

→ Yeri: Of course!

Because you have such a nice vocal color, I think it'll be nice for you to sing songs like ballads too!

It was so nice to hear you sing short clips of those on radio shows or on Yoo Hee-Yeol's Sketchbook TT It'll be great if you would sing those during the concert too!

→ Yeri: ♥

Do you know the song "Tattooed Heart?" I want to hear you sing it in your voice

 I love that song so much TT TT TT TT

→ Yeri: I like that song too hehe If you see the performance clips of that song, you'll fall in love with it even more!

Tell us one line of your song "Luvie!!"

Please leak just one line of the song TT TT TT TT

→ Yeri: I know that in the end, I’m me Thank you for being bold and brave You know too, right that there’s a lot I ran away because I was scared; I kept myself busy while hiding this It’s OK to be like that.

Yeri, one of your related search words are ‘nationality.’

As expected from UK Rim...

→ Yeri: OMG Really...? kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Yeri, are you really doing Happily Ever After in Red Room?

I’m curious!7

→ Yeri: I’m curious!

Yeri, why do you read so many books?

Do you read books because of a specific reason? I like seeing you read during your busy schedules, but also, I’m curious

→ Yeri: Hmm... It takes me to another world of my own

Rim, what are you going to name your song if you make one??

I’ll be looking forward to it!

→ Yeri: I already wrote lyrics about how I feel at the end of my teen yeras kkk For now it’s named “The Edge” kkkk

Rim, do you have any books that you want to recommend to luvies?

I’m curious!

→ Yeri: Out of the books I read, “The Pursuit of Happiness!”

What if you finish reading “The Moment???”

What are you going to read!!!???

→ Yeri: Maybe out of the books in my room, “Jacob’s Room?”

I’ll recommend songs to the recommendation fairy Yerim!! I think you might like these(?)

O3ohn - Down Bye Bye Badman - Your Wave I’ll recommend two songs!!! Give them a listen if you have time ~.~ They lyrics are so good ㅠㅅㅠ

→ Yeri: How do you know those songs! I listened to them a lot for a while

Yeri, I heard that last time, you put extensions on.. Are they uncomfortable??

..?

→ Yeri: They are

Yerm did you eat good stuff at Osaka?

What did ya eat?!?!

→ Yeri: Oyakodon, Mon chou chou, beef curry

Do you like Baek Yeri’s “As If You Don’t Know Me?.?”

I think your voice will go well along with that one. Sing it next time for us...!

→ Yeri: Of course! I’m Yerin’s fangirl!

Yeri, are you feeling alright? You said that you had an IV in the last V-App ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Rest well at Japan and eat a lot ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠStay healthy I always feel loved by you I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

→ Yeri: I’m alright now hehehe The garlic IV is the best! Don’t worry about me and take care of yourself

Thanks to you I’m listening to a lot of Sesame and Cotton Candy!

I like “song B” and “Is It Over Here” the most hehehe I’ll recommend a band that I’m listening a lot to these days, Life and Time~

→ Yeri: Oh Thanks for the recommendation kekeke I’ll give them a listen

They say that a cute kid is here

Is it true hehe

→ Yeri: hehehe I’m here

I hope you can grow bigger musically Yerim!

With each new album, your voice is getting better and more emotional!! You did as well as everybody expected in the “Red Summer” album!!! I love your emotions!! As a fan I’ll listen and watch a lot and root for you!!

→ Yeri: I’ll always root for you too, you awesome people

Yerim, do you like Cheeze’s songs too? There are lots of good songs like “Madeleine Love,” and “How Do You Think!!”

  → Yeri: Of course

Hi~ Nice to meet you~ Luvies~ Uncle Rim has appeared 

I’m gonna go bye

This is fun

I’m back kkkk

Yeri, which character in Harry Potter do you like the most?

My favorite is Hermione Granger!! How about you?~~

→ Yeri: Since I’m blonde these days Malfoy

S...Sorry... I have to go..kkkk

I’ll be back later kkkk

1 This is the name for Red Velvet’s official fanclub. 2 In Korean, this refers to 아재. It’s a shortened form of the word 아저씨 (ajusshi), which is used to call middle-aged men in Korean. Recently, it’s meaning has changed to refer to someone who has ‘old’ taste, someone who makes old, corny jokes, and someone who’s late to the newest trends. 3 Kim Yerim (Yeri’s real name) → Rim 4  It’s a Korean dessert made up of various toppings on shaved ice with red bean paste. 5 This is a popular and famous Korean dish that is made up of rice cakes stir-fried in pepper paste, along with other ingredients such as boiled eggs and fish cakes 6 Kim Yerim (Yeri’s real name) → Yerm 7 This is a line from Happily Ever After

[daebakinc]

Mercy - Pt 2

Please have mercy on me. Take it easy on my heart. Even though you don’t mean to hurt me, you keep tearing me apart.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC Genre: College AU, angst, romance, Summary: After a homework mix-up, you agree to tutor Jungkook in math in exchange for him tutoring you in dance. In more ways than one, you get much more than you bargained for. Parts:  1, 2 A/N: Some swearing. Also, I’m really sorry this has been delayed! I had some writer’s block&even after I finished, I couldn’t get to internet to post it. It’s one of the downsides to living more than 30 min from civilization. TT-TT

That night is indeed the start of a chain of events. The primary one of those events is that you and Jungkook spend almost every night of the next three months together. The only exception is game nights when he devotes himself to video games. However, even on the weekends, you somehow wind up spending several hours with him in that small studio.

Normally, your non-existent social life confines your comfort zone to your single room. That’s not to say you’re a crotchety hermit. You do have a few friends you love dearly, but most of the time you prefer your own company. But for whatever reason, Jungkook renders that rule null and void.

When you could spend time by yourself, you find you’d rather spend that time with him. Jungkook practices almost all hours of the day when he doesn’t have class, but he doesn’t mind you perching in the corner on the mats to work on your own things while he does so. He often forgets you’re even there. His eyes are fixed on his body in the mirror, following its movements, fine tuning them to be a perfect physical manifestation of the music.

It’s one of the most mesmerizing things you’ve ever seen. You learn for every ounce of talent he has, Jungkook puts in just as much hard work to honing it into true art. His dedication, his drive for constant improvement is just one of the many aspects of his you grow to genuinely admire. So too is his ability to give.

Mutual tutoring still happens, just not every day. You quickly discover alternating how you devote your time works better. One night for dance, the next for math. Trying to fit both in equally in one involves too much clock watching for either of you. Still, Jungkook makes sure that for every minute you help him in Pre-Calculus, he oversees your dancing, especially during midterms, which you both do passably well on.

Although your arrangement is casual, he still takes his teaching seriously. He goes as far as to devise floor exercises specially for you to practice a specific element. As he said the first night, he focuses on “baby steps.” Engrain the basics in your muscles so they become the building blocks of second nature. Sometimes you see Jungkook get frustrated, but he never verbalizes it. He just gives his head a jerky shake to roll it off and moves on. He’ll either demonstrate the correct movement himself, slowly, or guide your pliant limbs through it. The smile he gives you when you succeed on your own is worth every pull of sore leg muscles and drop of sweat.

After your respective sessions, you usually stay there to do other work as well. The long trek to your dorm is off-putting in the face of the studio’s coziness.

You’ll sprawl out side by side on mats you dragged onto the floor. Snacks litter the space between you, within easy reach and shared indiscriminately. After all, everyone needs breaks to focus on something else.

When you are working on math, you share a book. It makes helping Jungkook through trouble problems easier. At first, you keep a certain distance, never allowing your head to brush his as you both huddle over his paper. Within the second month of your friendship, that habit flips on its head.

Jungkook crosses the invisible wall he unconsciously presented first. You’re doing some reading for English while he’s reading for his history. You don’t pay attention when you see him wriggling around. Then a weight settles on your back. Small but worthy of notice. You stop mid-sentence in your notes and look back.

Jungkook’s head is settled in the at the bottom of your arched spine. His lips move as he reads, the fringe of his bangs half-covering his eyes, completely unself-conscious. A heat like the first sip of hot chocolate, burning hot then gratifyingly warm, bursts into bloom in your heart and overflows to settle in the pit of your stomach. You hurriedly look back at your notes before you can think about it too much.

What you thought was a fluke turns into new routine. One of you is always leaning, lying, or touching the other while studying. The relaxing power of simple human touch is one you always underestimated, but no longer. Resting your head in Jungkook’s lap or propping your back against his makes you feel homely, or in simple language, just plain good.

That should have been your smack in the back of the head. You should have seen it coming, but the most troubling development of your new friendship nonetheless catches you off guard: you fall in love with Jungkook.

It isn’t the kind of realization where the heavens open up with a blinding ray of sunlight to enhalo your enlightenment. It’s more like a jigsaw puzzle, minute pieces of his character coming together to overtake your heart.

Jungkook’s passion for everything he loves, from dancing to video games. His cute bunny smile that crinkles his eyes and is at odds with the rest of him. His humility despite his accomplishments so that a compliment from you still makes him blush and cast his eyes down. His little acts to take care of you when he thinks you won’t notice. Bit by bit, you unknowingly give your heart away.

           You are very good at keeping this secret from yourself. Denial is key. You tell yourself he is only a friend. You tell yourself the little shiver you now feel wherever Jungkook’s hands cover your skin or his chest presses against your back to demonstrate a movement is imagined. You tell yourself you catch yourself looking at him too long because any warm-blooded female would.

           But then, Jungkook does something that has your heart pounding too loud for you to ignore.

           During one of the rare times you aren’t in the studio with Jungkook, he slips in a puddle of sweat and falls. Luckily, he only twists his ankle. But it’s bad enough that the doctor wraps it and gives him crutches to use for a few days. He grumbles about it, but for fear of the wrath of his dance professor, he uses them.

           Crutches mean dancing is off the table. Despite how close you’ve become, you still partially expect this to also mean you won’t see Jungkook as much. Instead, the same day, he shows up at your work during the last few hours of your shift.

You look up to greet the customer when the bell dings. The words stick in your throat at the sight of him. He waves at you and parks himself at a small table tucked in the corner by the coffee machines with his books. You hurry to chalk your suddenly irregular heartbeat to too much caffeine and return your attention to the line in front of you. No time for that.

           When the stream of customers lulls, you slip out from behind the counter with cleaning rag and coffee in hand. Jungkook jumps when you set the coffee in front of him. “Columbian, iced, no milk, with a dash of sugar. Am I right?”

           He nods and sets his phone down. He looks nice and snug in a black and red striped sweater that half hangs off his shoulder. Smiling he says, “I can’t believe you remembered that. Thanks.”

           You laugh and tap your head. “It’s literally my job.”

           “And you’ve got an elephant brain.” Jungkook takes a sip, giving an appreciative sigh. He glances at you with a frown. “Is it alright for you to do this?”

           “It was time to brew a new pot.” You shrug. “It would’ve gone down the drain anyway. Besides, it’s not like you were going to buy anything.”

           “I could’ve.”

           “But you weren’t going to.”

           He drops his indignant expression under your skeptical gaze and laughs. “You’re right. You’re right. I just needed to get out of the room and no one else is in theirs.”

           “In other words, I was your last option. Thanks.” You huff in pretend hurt and turn away, secretly grinning when he grabs your arm.

           “You know that’s not true,” Jungkook whines playfully. You can tell without looking he’s pouting in that nearly irresistible way. He doesn’t intend to be charming. It’s just a fortunate, or maybe unfortunate, effect.

           Chuckling, you shake him off and stick your tongue out at him. “Yeah, yeah. See if you get any more coffees on the house out of me now, kid.”

           Jungkook waits until you’re behind the counter again before calling your name. When you look up, he wiggles finger hearts at you with both hands. It’s a herculean effort not to giggle helplessly. Clearly taking your smile as forgiveness, he flips to thumbs up and returns his attention to his phone.

           As both of you knew, your threat proves empty. Every new brewing means a refill if he needs it. You keep your eye on the math homework spread before him as well. Jungkook does do half of it, but once he gets frustrated with a problem, his phone is in hand two seconds later. The way his eyes dart around the screen clues you in that he’s playing a game. When he catches you catching him, he gives you a sheepish smile and goes back to the homework like a scolded schoolboy.

           After the fifth time you find him playing a game, you glance at the clock and tell him, “It’s only ten minutes until we close. If you want, just leave the rest and we’ll do them in my room.”

           “Oh, thank god,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t even know if I did the ones I did right.”

           “Pack up your stuff. I’ll carry it for you when we leave.” On second thought, you look around to find your coworker. Maybe she’ll let you leave early if you promise to do the same for her another night. Instead, you see someone you’d rather not heading for the door.

           Many of your regulars come in solely for the coffee, wifi, and peaceful atmosphere. All they want to recharge their batteries in peace. They’re generally polite and don’t give you any trouble.

Nick is one of those regulars who’s the exception to the rule. He’s a graduate student, something he never fails to mention at least once a visit. Regardless of who serves him, he always has a sly comment that he obviously thinks is charmingly flirty. The predatory gleam in his eye makes them anything but. However, he carefully toes the line of harassment so a complaint won’t be taken seriously by management or the school administration. You wouldn’t exactly call him rude or even ugly, but the word ‘slimy’ comes up often when you and the other female baristas complain to each other about his latest advance.

           Another frantic look around confirms your coworker must be in the back. Swallowing your discomfort, you plaster on the ‘I must be nice because you pay my bills’ smile anyone who’s held a job in customer service knows.

           “Good evening, Nick. You’re cutting it close,” you say. You hide your hands out of sight, clenching and unclenching your fists in an attempt to relieve the anxious discomfort in your chest.

           “Working on that masters’ thesis,” he replies smoothly. He leans an elbow on the counter and smiles at you. “But I hit a block and decided I need caffeine and a beautiful face to get myself around it.”

           You subtly shift away and ignore his comment. Keeping your eyes on the register to avoid Nick’s, you ask, “The usual?”

           “You know it, babe.”

           When you tell him the total, Nick already has a large bill ready. It’s a fight to keep from shuddering at how his fingers drag along your palm as he hands you the money. He does it again when you give him his change. You really want to scrub your hands clean after.

           Since you’re still by yourself, making his coffee provides a reason to turn your back on him. You still feel his gaze boring into your back. Jungkook catches your eye when you go back to the machines. There’s a small frown on his face that lets you know he heard the conversation. He knows you aren’t comfortable someone using pet names with you unless you’re extremely close. After so many nights observing your body, he can read the tension bunched in your shoulders as well.

           You look away and focus on making the coffee.

           Nick’s voice grates your nerves when he unexpectedly says, “Hey, love. I’ve got a question for you.”

           You add some extra flourishes of your hands so he’ll think you can’t look away from your work. “Yes, sir?”

           “Please, ‘sir’ is my father. There’s only one situation I like being called that. Here, I’m just Nick.” His chuckle invites you to laugh at his wit. When you give him a half-hearted laugh, he continues, “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the conclusion we should go on a date, so I’m going to need your number.”

           Your hand jerks. Milk drips down the side of the cup and onto the counter. His demand surprises you, but at the same time, it doesn’t. You just really wish he hadn’t said anything. Conflict, or even the possibility of it, sets your stomach churning and your body trembling every time.

           Taking your time, you wipe off his cup and securely place the lid on it. Your best work smile is back in place when you turn around and hand his drink to him. “I’m sorry, Nick, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

           Nick frowns, recovering quickly. He doesn’t even look at his drink. “Why?”

           “It wouldn’t be professional behavior. I’m sorry, but no, thank you.” You turn your back on him again to start cleaning the splattered milk and coffee.

           Nick follows you, leaning against the small glass partition. “Come on, just write it on my cup or something discreet like that.” His tone grows annoyed as he says, “If you didn’t want me to ask you out, why’re you always flirting with me? Men don’t like it when women string them along like a stupid tease.”

           “It’s called doing her job.” Jungkook suddenly slides himself in front of the other man, forcing him backwards and away from you. Even leaning on one crutch, he cuts an intimidating figure.

           “Are you her boyfriend?” Nick asks cautiously, eyeing the lines of muscle Jungkook’s T-shirt expose.

           “No.”

           The haughtiness returns to Nick’s voice. He puffs his chest and says, “Then this is none of your business. Butt out.”

           You glance around, glad it’s almost closing so the shop is empty. Heart beating and clamminess taking over your skin, you whisper, “Jungkook, you really don’t have to. It’s okay.”

           “If he’s harassing you, you shouldn’t have to put up with it.” Shifting his attention back to your suitor, Jungkook gives him a cold look. You’ve never seen such a look on your friend’s face. “She’s in the customer service industry. She has to smile and be nice to everyone or she’ll get reprimanded. Don’t you think it’s hard enough for her to act happy all the time to creeps like you who make her uncomfortable by coming onto her? Whether or not she has a boyfriend shouldn’t matter either. If you only respect her right to say ‘no’ because you think she’s another man’s property, no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend. Go educate yourself and get a fucking life.”

           Your and Nick’s jaws drop. You manage to snap yours back into place, but Nick’s stays open like a suffocating fish’s. He stares at Jungkook a second longer before grabbing his order and slinking away with slumped shoulders.

           Jungkook keeps his eyes on Nick’s back until the door closes behind him. He then turns to you, concern filling his gaze as he studies you. “Are you okay?”

           You nod, hoping the wonder you’re feeling isn’t showing too badly. “Yes. Thanks. Really, you didn’t have to though.”

           “Yes, I did,” Jungkook says firmly. “No one should get away with behavior like that.”

           Intellectually, you know that. But standing up for yourself is a habit you’re still working on, and someone else defending you is unprecedented. His actions make you feel special and loved, another sensation you’re unused to. It’s indescribable. Before you cry from gratitude and emotion, you nod again and rush to lock the door so you can clean up, close up, and spend more time with Jungkook.

           You’re both quiet on the slow, chilly walk back to the dorm. It reminds you of your first walk together. This time though, Jungkook takes the initiative and speaks first. His light-hearted recounting of a botched routine he and his friend Jimin made is clearly an attempt to make you feel better. You’re thankful for it and play along until you are calm and happy again.

           A few hours and hot chocolates later, when your heads are hitting the paper more often than your pencils, it’s finally time to part company. You follow Jungkook to the door after he packs his things into his bookbag, stopping short when he turns around. Jungkook props one crutch against the doorframe and pulls you into his chest.

           “Tell me if that guy ever bothers you again, understand? I’ll take care of it,” he says softly into your hair. He squeezes you tighter. “You deserve better than that.”

           Although you’re unsure if you can keep that promise, you reply, “I will. Thank you.” You let yourself nestle closer into his soft hoodie and the safety of his arms.

           “I mean it.”

           “I know.”

           After you wave goodbye and close the door, you slump against it. Your heartbeat ripples through your body from head to toe. It disturbs the long-asleep butterflies in your stomach and sends them into flight. Your mind buzzes with what you’re finally admitting to yourself. Jeon Jungkook is most definitely nestled in your heart with no intentions of leaving. And you have no idea what to do about it.

           ‘Torturous’ is the only word that can describe the consequent debate you have with yourself. To tell Jungkook or not to tell Jungkook, that is the question. You’ve witnessed firsthand how flustered he gets when a pretty girl so much as walks past him. His mouth seals up like a safe. Suddenly, he studies the floor like it has all the answers in the world. For Jungkook to close himself off from you in this manner all because you strung three innocent words of a confession together would break you.

           But to open the door for your relationship to become something more…. To be able to hold his hand when you walk together, to kiss his nose just because you feel like it, to curl up in his lap during late night movies. Your dreams may be small, but they are more tempting than all the treasure of Ali Baba’s forty thieves. Maybe you are greedy or weak, but those small things are all you can think of. Their constant invasion of your conscious makes you distracted, enough so Jungkook comments on it during your tutoring. You brush it off as being tired or thinking of an assignment, breathing a sigh relief when he lets it go each time.

By the end of the week, you can’t take it. You are going to tell Jungkook. You have hope if it doesn’t go well, he won’t abandon you. It’s in your prayers every night.

           You’re still building up the courage to follow your decision when, one night, Jungkook bursts through the studio door. He looks bewildered and a little shell-shocked.

           “Are you okay?” You rise from your seat on the mats immediately.

           He nods his head but says, “No.” Jungkook drops his bag right at the door, strides over to you, and collapses. He closes his eyes as he leans against the mirrors. “You’re never going to believe what happened.”

           “What?”

           Jungkook sits up to look at you. “A girl just asked me out to the winter dance. Me!”

           “Oh.” Your heart stops. You suddenly feel queasy.

           “I know, right?” His words come faster as he babbles, “She’s an upperclassman and super hot too. Really, really good ballet dancer. We don’t even have a class together. I see her sometimes when I go talk to Professor Duncan, but I hadn’t even talked to her before now. It’s crazy.”

           Already dreading the answer, you ask, “Did you say ‘yes’?” You hold your breath waiting for his answer.

           He shrugs. “Well, yeah. How could I say no?”

           “Yeah.” You shrink into yourself, a fist pulverizing your heart with each breath. Still, you smile through the pain and give him a forced, “Congrats.”

           “Thanks, I think.” Half of Jungkook’s mouth turns upwards. He leans down to rest his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, cocking his head to study you. “You really think it was a good idea to say ‘yes’? What if I screw this up?”

           “You won’t. It’s only a dance.” But in your mind, it’s much more. It’s your chance to reveal your feelings to Jungkook slipping away like quicksand.

           His smile becomes whole and turns into a grin. “You’re right. It’s only a dance. Not like I agreed to marry her,” he giggles. “Wait til I tell everyone else an upperclassman asked me out!”

           The thought makes you want to vomit but you laugh along. You don’t even know this girl but you envision her being everything you are not and everything Jungkook could want. All your plans and hopes are being dashed. Yet because Jungkook seems happy, you have no choice but to stand there and watch them turn to dust underfoot.

[forestbathing-studies-blog]

Shinrin-Yoku: —The Art of Forest Bathing

I remember turning on the television. The camera moved down the normally sand-coloured dirt road, now churned into a red sticky mess by the latest rains, with oil puddles of ominous grey and brown refusing to melt into the earth. They glimmered with a splattering of rainbow colours, but the oil was still and stagnant.

The sky was grey, no clouds or anything. The camera crew had walked up to a little coffee-skinned boy who stood in the lane smiling, periodically pressing his palms together, fingers outstretched. He looked at the reporters, eager to please.

“And have you ever seen a flower?” One of them asked.

“No.”

“Not at all?”

“No,” said the little boy, shaking his head and smiling.

I finished packing my bags and scribbled a haiku to pin on my front door as my traveller's message.

what if you are fooled- that rainbows are scars in the sky you applaud and let bleed?

2

As I walked to the edge of my forest the boy's answer came to me again  who had never seen a flower in the mud of his shanty town, who trusted those that sent the bombs tt would set him free, free of a family to love him, free of the need to go to school any more, and free to choose which crater to sleep in, now that his house stood no more. I was leaving in my pursuit of forest study and specifically to further research forest bathing, a science started in Japan that I saw also as an art, and I knew that ultimately this study would benefit in those who had been robbed of the nature to nurture them. With this in mind I set off on my journey.

It is true that my own log cabin in the wilderness has no lock. No lock means a certain feeling of freedom. But freedom must be fed to flourish. It is not something you can give up, when your health suffers, or finances run low. You must build up your beliefs and values and experience them, and learn to learn them from others. That is the real reason to get in touch with nature, for walking in a forest also means stepping away from civilisation.

With my bag over my shoulder, I paused at the last tree before walking out into the meadow to pin my goodbye haiku to a tree trunk.

the aroma of pine

and the young morning’s fresh rain

reach my words

An early morning mist lay streaked with sunrise over the grass on  meadows. A few rowers were already gliding down the river that bordered the large expanse, dipping their oars in and skimming along the calm surface, tiny whirpools in their wake. There was an elegant, timeless quality to the scene before me. Standing under an old oak trees, I thought if I was writing a novel, this is where I would start it, just as the hardy young rowers swept by, seamlessly almost, in the mirrored river.

the sturdy oak tree

gives some ancient shade

to my thoughts

In truth my journey started in-between Panama and Colombia, in a village called Paya. I wore a red loincloth in the jungle of the Darien Gap, between Panama and Colombia. I stayed with the Kuna Indians almost exactly on the border, deep in the rainforest.There have been many efforts from colonial missionaries and sects to prise the Kunas of the Darien Gap away from their belief in the Nana Dummad, Mother Hearth, a belief closely associated with respect to the nature around them. All failed. These people, who live in the jungle remain closely at one with their environment. This seems to have a real benefit: Kuna people have a low average blood pressure (BP, 110/70mm Hg), and, do not experience the age-related increase in blood pressure that is common in Western society. Death rates from cardiovascular disease and cancer, the first and second causes of death in the western world, are so rare in the Kuna that they are almost non-existant.It is impossible to say there is no connection between living in the equatorial forest and these figures. A parallel can be drawn to the jungles of Kerala, in southern India,where the local people enjoy a remarkably healthy existences among forests, where fresh food is available almost freely throughout their environment. If there ever was a model for sustainable development, it is the State of Kerala in India, and its jungle patterned by waterways, in hich reed and wooden boats float past idyllic villages set among the trees. No slash and burn here.In both the Darien Gap and Kerala, inhabitants are literally able to pluck food from branches. Freshness is always an important issue, and their food from their respective forests is  high in vital flavonoid content. Flavanoids existabundantly and naturally in cocoa trees, but are often removed from chocolate, even dark chocolate because they can be bitter, and milk interferes with their consumption.Among the Kuna, I witnessed forest life first hand. Contrary to what one sees in news reports about people who live in these environments, everyone was healthy, and fit. It was only when leaving the settlement of Paya in the jungle, and heading towards the town of Turbo across the huge bay, that settlements began to look ragged, and disorganised, and people listless, with ill-fitting, ripped clothes, and vacant expression.In the green jungle there was always work to do, though more leisure time too, after the work had been done. Pollution was basically a foreign affair, and the Kuna carried much knowledge about the nutrients, health aids and poisons in their environment, as well as which areas were mosquito-ridden, and therefore likely to have the malaria parasite, and which areas of the rainforest were free of mosquitos.Living in the jungle, or even travelling through a jungle, is an enthralling experience. In sweltering heat as healthy as a sauna, and better than any exfoliant or moisteriser, every day is an adventure, and a detoxication for the mind.almost But problems occur when our world reaches into the areas of wilderness. I discover sad news after I leave the Darien Gap that , Víctor Alcázar, my guide and good friend was caught in an attack by a Colombian right wing squad, an attack that killed four Kuna Indian spiritual forest leaders and terrorised the harmonious settlement I had stayed in. Victor, who escaped suffering from bayonet wounds, was accused by police and prosecutors of being an accomplice of the invaders. It is inconceivable that such a kind, gentle person, who lost previously lost his front teeth demonstrating against Noriega, the Panamanian dictator, and a much-experienced guide in the jungle, could have done anything like that to destroy his own business. The veteran jungle guide, who had complained frequently about how the lack of police presence in eastern Darien hurt his business, told reporters he was a scapegoat for the police failure. I have never been able to get further information about what happened to him, this wonderful Carib of the Darien jungle, who had found himself under great stress and pressure, a man of great happiness and humour who harmed no-one, who I had corresponded with for a few years, with an unbelievably simple address of Víctor Alcázar, El Real, Darién jungle, Panama. among the treesshadows and thoughtstravel for miles 木木木

木木木

Siberia: it is no wonder this great expanse spawned such unparalleled works of literature. Every person one meets is a perfectly described character, a walking story, ready for a novel to step into. As for the land mass itself, there is simply too much of it to describe. Many don’t even try, and rarely even glance out of a window from their train invariably traversing through the immense taiga, but none will admit to any monotony of the journey. Most travellers on trains here are not romantics. Siberia pulls on more than the mere sentimental. The concept of time and space take on a new condominium for those who do stand or sit looking out of the train windows. The trees are lyrical, and give rise to great orchestral symphonies of the mind. These pines, birch, spruce and larches may not have been the forests that padogas and fancy pavilions were built from, nor the dark, luxuriouds wood of Balinese carvings, but on these tree trunks and logs whole cities had been erected over permafrost, the wooden stilts serving better for the purpose than concrete, which starts to crumble in the plunging cold. At these times temperatures slide to such nonsensical figures that bananas become hammers and even vodka freezes. But vodka is an imported drink here, from wheatfields and grasslands, and made for drinking around kitchen tables up in high-rise flats that circle cities. From these tables and bottles trains are watched below as they made their way through the taiga. Those who take those trains across Siberia are not people who succumb to the self-indulgent charms of wanderlust. True travellers, they are mostly teatotal. The true Siberian traversing his or her native land cures and heals not with vodka but with pine oil, which he or she imbibes, or rubs on ailments and heats as a natural aroma.

Chita (Чита) is situated right where two rivers meet, the Inogoda and river Chita, from which the town is named. The two rivers come together a couple of hundred kilometres north of Mongolia, in Eastern Siberia. Chita is distinct. There are only two cities in the world where on the same hill at the same time are three temples of three different religions: Judaism, Islam and Christianity, and Chita is one of them. In the ancient part of the city on the top of the hill (the old prison used to be there, too) there is a synagogue, a mosque and an orthodox church. This is why Chita is called the second Jerusalem. Even the flag looks Palestinian, with a yellow triangle replacing the Palestinian red one, and three stripes of red, white and green.

“I understand there is no key to your log cabin, where you said you live, so if you don’t need a key, what are you searching for?” said the wizened old man, sitting on a wooden ledge lining a thin bed of small growing roots. With his thin white beard and green shawl he looked like a curator of bonsai trees.

“You mean why have I travelled so far?” I asked, the traveller in me long adept at turning philosophy around like the spinning of a coin, but only to help the conversation grow, to water it, give it life.

“In miles or in ideas?” the man replied, hand on his beard, a little tug, “or perhaps the key is only in the questions.”

I looked at the little man, at his amused eyes. He could have been from Tibet, or Kalmikiya, or of Hazara descent, living in the middle of Afghanistan. Chita was not part of the Siberia of pine, spruce or birch tree anymore. Here one felt the bleakness of the Central Asian grasslands, the steppes. The old man was a Buriat, of Turkic, Mongolian origins; a Buddhist.

“I’m just looking for my way forward,” I said.

“Ah,” he said, “then in miles!”

He tugged his silky white beard again, once, twice, a third time. “A pity,” he said, “in ideas is more fruitful.”

“If I hadn’t come all the miles across Siberia we would not be chatting about this,” I said.

“And nor would we if I had crossed over Siberia the other way” he replied. “It is a good thing all I did was sit here, otherwise I would not have had such a delightful, perhaps only an inconsequential moment, but I am rather sure that from here, near the end of your journey, it is your ideas that will now travel.”

“The importance of my journey then is not what I feel about it, but in what others find in it,” I said.

“That is the real journey,” replied the man. He lifted his hand up flat, horizontal, so that it cast a shade over the small plants growing in the fresh spring soil. “It is not my ability to lift my hand that is important,” he said, “but the shade it provides so the flowers can grow and bloom without over-exposure to the direct light.”

He stood up. “Ah, see, you are taller than me. You are offering me shade,” he said, giving a chuckle, “but others kilometres away will only receive shade from the ideas you have.”

He offered his hand and I shook it.

“If you must travel far to find the right way to provide shade of ideas for others, so be it,” he said, “but remember one must travel for that reason, not to count the distance.”

From within a slip of a pocket at his chest he pulled out a small booklet, with grey cardboard cover. “When you think about our meeting, and exchange ideas about the trees, then please make one of these haiku in here part of that exchange. Only open and look when you have collected your ideas and tell others.”

I took the booklet, and slipped it into my chest pocket. I wanted to tell him that everyone needs space, and some need movement, too, the creaking of a rolling wagon wheel, ruffled flapping of a sail or click of train wheels.

Then this small, alert man on the edge of the large flower bed surprises me, placing his hand on my arm. “my niece will accompany you, the taiga is her home and she is returning there after visiting me,” he says, “her name is Yenisei. Tell me what you learn from the trees, if we meet again. If not, tell another.” BELOW SYRAIGHT AFTER leaving forest part: 木木木

It took a childhood of intermittent tramping through pine forests in the Alps, where I grew up and a decade of living in the empty deserts of the Middle East to understand forests. That and spending an afternoon in the ethereal Redwood forest, in California. I thought I’d never seen anything more exquisite and majestic. Exploring the taiga of Siberia is awe-inspiring. There is also something else, that the more time I spend in forest areas, the better my chronic and inexplicable breathing difficulties I have improve.

the pine cone that feeds all the forest is the forest

l long for nature’s products when I walk among the bushes, shrubs and trees. Not the creams from companies with names like Natura, or Flower, Plantigen, with pictures of flowers or berries on the front, and packed with goodness knows what chemicals in a plastic container. TO REMOVE

sunlit waterfall in my wooden cup the taste of a rainbow

misty morning droplets of forest poetry I touch the sky

木木木 By name alone, Yenisei sounds beautiful. Yenisei. Names become more exotic the deeper one ventures into the forests of Siberia, in the endless boreal forest, or snow forest, of coniferous trees, pines, spruces and larches, and the white trunks of the birch trees. Yenisei is my guide, and is named after the River Yenisei itself, one of the three great rivers of Siberia. She is sleeping under the boughs of another pine tree, under great branches that trap the warmth. My guide is the niece of the man I met in Chita, and related by DNA and language to many of the tribes of Northwest America.

The forests ripple over the horizon. I am under the impression I will take this mysterious, beautiful forested land with me wherever I go, spiritually, in my heart, and soul. Already mentally, and physically, it has had a positive effect after only a couple of days. There is no other forest like the pine forest. I try to write a haiku about falling asleep under a pine tree, where heavy snow does not make it under the thick boughs that trap the warmth, but just can’t get it right. No matter, I am content merely to be, among the trees. Perhaps it is the scent I like most, as well as the gentle grandeur.

pine tea for the soul starts with a harvest of needles and forest air

Yenisei is not necessarily my guide for distances we will cover in the vast interior of Russia, but also my guide for my own interior. For that purpose, I will accordingly learn all I can about the forests of Siberia. Yenisei lives in the taiga, in the forest, usually in a small community, with other ethnic Evenks, who live a nomadic life among the trees, setting up camp a while then moving on, for the pleasure of moving as well as living. On a mat of pine needles am rejuvenated

 木木木  

Here, at the other end of the thermometer from many, in Siberia, it is cold. My hands are already numb as I light the third match. The dried grass and hay, though, is still unfrozen. This time, with cupped hands not feeling the naked flame, it catches alight, a whisper of smoke then glowing tips. The herbs start to smoulder and flare, minute pinpricks of light, and soon I sip pine nut tea and offer some to my guide, through the large snow-covered branches. She smiles, and has her own forest herb brew to boil up. She hands me some dried Valerian flower roots. “Chew them,’’ she says, ‛’the flower grows here. It will help you sleep well, with nice dreams.’’ “I’m having wonderful dreams already!’’ I answer. It is only now I understand how much I appreciate the company of fir trees, and only now that I am consciously learning how healthy they are for our physical and mental health; our chemical balance, and for the soul. The landscape of rolling forests is peaceful and mystical at the same time, and we are near the top of a small hill, among thick pine trees, in scenery that looked tame enough for a Christmas card, but far enough from any settlement to see by the light of the stars and moon alone. I open the old man from Chita’s little grey cardboard book and read the first haiku. without roots we cannot flower 木木木

The first time I heard the term ′forest bathing’ was at 4 am, in Banff, Canada. It was the middle of January, and I was half way up through the trees of Sulphur mountain. I had a long knife in hand in the absence of a pick axe or walking stick, to stab at the icy snow on the steep incline and a heavy old rubber mattress thrown over my shoulder, and twisted together at the hip. The plan was to climb the mountain, blow up the rubber mattress and speed down again, and continue my journey all the way to the Darien Gap, and Kuna Indians, over the next few months. It was tough work going up the mountainside. Not so much because of the steepness, but because of the deep snow up to my waist, and I wanted to widen a path, so that my ride down would happen at speed. It was also tough work as I had not quite got over my long summer and autumn’s work, first tree planting, then burning old tree tumps, followed by carrying heavy loads of water on my back to put out smouldeting tree stumps, before finally graduating to lumberjack, and felling trees for miles and miles into late autumn. No-one could accuse me of idealistically falling in love with forests — my relationship had been physical. The Japanese woman on the ledge had been watching me for a while when I arrived. I had started at 4 am. She had started earlier, or more likely had trekked up faster. Or both; she had been on the Japanese Women’s Everest Expedition a few years earlier. Our conversation was brief, some might say terse, or aphoristic: to her quizzical look I had offerred an explanation of  enjoying being on the forested slopes in winter. “You ever heard of forest-bathing?’’ she asked. “Oh, you mean because of the rubber mattress?” I answered, lifting it off my shoulder. “No. It’s what you’re doing. Getting in the good air,” she said. “They studied the benefits in Japan a couple years ago, and it’s called Shinrin-Joku. Forest bathing.” somewhere far in the woods under the pine’s speckled sunlight a tiny acorn gives birth

I blew up the inflatable mattress, jumped on and sped down the steep hill through the forest, down the gulley I had made walking upwards. At the bottom of the mountain my travelling partners arrived by pick-up. I duly got picked up, and we drove down to Central America. And I forgot about forest bathing until  Guatemala, a few months and many miles later.

under the trees leaves and shadows of leaves only shadows stay

木木木

When I arrived in Guatemala I befriended two honey collectors in the lush bushes up the sides of a volcano. The path we were on went straight up, no matter how steep the side of the volcano became, straight up through the trees, then areas of grass, then trees. And they walked fast. Fast meant really fast, up the slope. It was a lesson learnt, in many different ways — in general, our lifestyle is worse than many in the developing world. Of course, on that day on the volcano I had very little style, and not much life in my limbs either. They stopped, politely.

“I will let you go,” I said, “you are too fast!”

The elder of the two men patted his midriff and smiled: “Have some wild forest honey!” he said in Spanish.

He put his hand in the bag he had slung at his hip, and took a glass jar out, opened it, then took a tortilla out and dipping it into the jar, gave it to me. I chewed the honey-dipped bread. It was suitably delicious.

The forest honey on my tortilla was a dark, deep amber; real medicine, and strongly antibacterial. When honey is applied on a cut, graze or scrape, an enzyme from bees called glucose oxidase activates the release of H2O2. Forest honey, the most medicinal of all honies, can even kill antibiotic-resistant bacteria like MRSA. It is also hydroscopic and pulls water away from an infected wound by osmosis. Dryer wounds heal faster, but honey also pulls lymph fluid to the wound, making balanced healing, and this honey’s low pH of between 3 and 4, makes it acidic. Bacteria cannot survive in an acidic environment.

The unrefined forest honey on the tortilla was my excuse to immerse myself into my environment. I waved goodbye to my companions and admired the view through the trees, thankful for the cover as the rain poured. As I sat, I thought of ways to render the exotic appeal of the surroundings onto paper in haiku, to convey the atmosphere of purity and harmony.

Below me in the tinsel light of the rain, I saw a shining river winding its path between the hills, and made my way downwards towards it. Great Mayan cities were carved out of the jungle here, cities now so hidden that one can really only stumble on them by accident. I took out my notebook and waded into the river, and sat on a small smooth rock to watch the current stream pleasantly by, the clear surface of the river broken by the fast patter of raindrops. It was then that a rubber raft came drifting around the bend, with four occupants, three men abnd one woman, in mid-conversation.

“Ah’m tellin’ ye!’’ shouted the man in front, in broad Scots dialect, and bright red Celtic hair . “Tha’ bloody rum’s poison man, gie’ us a whisky any day!’’

“Nah,’’ his colleague insisted in Carribean lilt and big laugh, “there is nothin’ compared to rum man!’’

Seeing me just are they were seen by me, they both expertly swivelled the rubber craft round with their wooden paddles to where I sat.

“Join us man,’’ said the Carribean, all smiles again contrasting with ebony skin. “My name’s Claymore, that reprobrate there is McGillan,’’ he laughed, in a fitting Jamaican accented musical tone, “and this is Beatrice, from Canada, and there’s Guillermo,’’ he said, pointing to the third man holding his oar as a rudder, having pioted the dinghy alongside me.

I got in. Beatrice, long-haired with red bandana, red-flowered wrap and bikini top, sat on the opposite side of the dinghy and I picked up a paddle amd dipped it into the river, swivelling it back.

“Well Ah’m nae normally one tae argue mind,’’ McGillan continued to Claymore, in full swing, “Ah’d waste neither disinfectin’ yer backside frae the tooth marks of tha’ croc over there!’’

We turned quickly to see a small alligator floating slowly in our direction, snout causing a few small bubbles to escape as it watched us guide by.

“Hey man,’’ said Claymore, “the alligator that bites your butt gets a drink from me!”

“You bloody men,’’ said the woman called Beatrice.

The forest murmured constantly with almost electric activity, but not all the noises blended in, just as the flash of colours of a macaw startled against the background of green, so a high pitched cry or deep rumble caught the senses sharply. Large butterflies, in translucent blue fluttered out of reach, almost in a dance, and no again near the riverbank on either side there was a sudden plop! As an animal quickly jumped into the water as we swept by; frogs perhaps. This was haiku country, and surely Bashō would have felt inspired among the lush, green vegetation.

Then Guillermo said: “Look!’’

Beatrice was still finishing a drawing. “The calm tranquillity of the woman’s mind,’’ she had just said, as she sketched in a long thick phallic tree trunk that bent slightly upwards over the water. Guillermo seemed to see things that we did not with our untrained eyes. He stood watching the jungle from the raft, looking at things that had happened here years ago, gesturing at what was indistinguishable in the thick forest. He quickly and easily leapt ashore picking a leaf and chewing it, then picking another from a different tree, We stepped out of the raft, causing Beatrice to look up, and waded to the river bank.

“I am Lacandón Mayan,’’ Guillermo said, as he led us up the steep bank into the forest, “my people live here long, long time ago. We came to the jungle to escape the Conquistadores, and have been a forest people since. When we farm in the jungle, nosotros, us Lacandon, we farm with nature. We mix plot of land with different plants so we don’t starve mother earth. We grow lemon, onion, pepper, corn, watermelon, all in same place. We grow banana and papaya trees to shade, so the rhythm of the forest does not change. We don’t have disease spreading on our land because we don’t grow only one kind of plant. The earth keeps strong because different plants’ needs are different.’’ He looked around. “Here we can build a incense burner renewal ceremony hut.”

The jungle looked untouched. To Guillermo, however, the pattern of the jungle had been modified, and soon we came up to some light undergrowth. We walked around what appeared to be a large mound, and pulled at the tangled branches.

“I think there’s a way in here,” said Claymore.

“Do ye then?” Asked McGillan about thirty minutes later, as we pulled and chopped and cut. A passage way finally appeared, and we slithered into the entrance, an entrance that was paved with chunks of stone. There was room for one down the small rectangular corridor, and room for two in the small chamber at the end of it. Rough scratched on stones set around patches of earth were all that was left of the probable etched hieroglyphics and artefacts.

“People have been here before us,” said Guillermo, “only the forests have stayed.”  He looked up towards the treetops. “The name Guatemala comes from Nahuatl Cuauhtēmallān, ′place of many trees,’ a translation of the Mayan K’iche, ′many trees’,” he said.

in my forest I hunt for words -trees are stories

木木木

Up near the Arctic Circle, there is magic afoot during the winter months. We know that Santa was a shaman in his big black boots, collecting the Fly Agraic mushroom, red with white dots from the forest, and feeding it to his reindeer then drinking the mix when their livers had removed the toxins, or putting them in a big sack and later hanging them to dry above the fireplace. And these magic mushrooms that grow under the fir trees, with ethereal fertilisation, are symbolised now with the draping of silver-coloured tinsel over the so-called Christmas tree, in reality the world tree, the tinsel symbolising sperm.

Of course, after eating the magic mushrooms the deer fly, and Santa laughs, with red cheeks, and the Siberian tribal and Saami people’s myth of the world tree is real. If you would like to treat yourself to one of these mushrooms, make sure you boil it first, unless you have any reindeer around. And then come North, and see the northern lights, glowing, moving behind the silhouettes of pine trees and watch, touch our magic, natural world.

snowflakes drift

as plum blossoms open in Seoul

and in my memories

The world tree has been ursuped and used in many homes as the Christmas tree, but if people wanted to follow the Nativity scene more closely they would use a palm tree. Palms are wonderful, magical trees in their own right.

two tall palms

in monsoon rains

give a coconut kiss

I briefly mentioned living in the deserts of the Middle East. What I meant was working as in-house environmental consultant for the Saudi Arabian oil company, based in a desert town called Abqaiq, meaning Tiny Bug, over the world’s largest oil field, the Ghawar Field, and on the edge of Al Ahsa oasis, with its 30 million palm trees, in the Eastern Province. 30 million trees is a lot of dates.

in only one date the taste of paradise  — never eaten alone

Walking through the immense date plantation, shaded by the broad patterned leaves in a day exotic with heat was always a thrill.  Meeting bedouins in the evening, who had nothing to offer but the best hospitality and warm sand dunes, under a backdrop of a wide, clear sky full of stars and the aroma of roasted cardamon coffee, the cardoman, as always, from the Guatemalan highlands, and the coffee possibly too, served with fresh, frothed camel milk and genuine conversation; a life at its most luxurious.

in coffee friendship

embers from the dancing fire

-floating stars

At the fringe of the large date palm plantation I stopped one evening, and walked towards a small oasis set in the wavy, curved lines of the desert sands. The oasis was surrounded by lush green palm trees, some tall and stooped, and some thick and rigid. I knelt down and reached deep into the cool, fresh water, and lifting my cupped hands drunk some and splashed my face. When I looked up I saw her sitting at the waterside about fifty yards away, opposite me, between the trees. Her legs were in the cool water of the oasis and she’d pulled her black abaya up to her thighs. I had startled her and she started to pull the abaya downwards but stopped when I smiled and touched my forefinger to my lips.

The oasis took on a creamy glow as the sun set in the desert somewhere in the distance. She kept her abaya up on her thighs, kicking in the water, softly, as I sat on the opposite side of the oasis, taking in her etheral beauty. Finally she stood up, carefully letting her abaya drop from uncurling, long fingers. Pushing a large palm leaf aside she turned to walk away in the sand, and glanced back for one long moment before making her way up the sand dune behind her.

Only in Saudi Arabia could one share such an illicit, sensual spell.

the setting sun

melts into shadows

and shadows melt into night

木木木

I am reminded again of the inbuilt need of western culture and civilisation to proletise, often found these days through the workings of charities, who go to great lengths to inform us of noble savages around the world who need our help to care for their environment and develop, by which the charity companies really mean they want our money.

In Kerala, sitting on a houseboat made from reeds on one of the many waterways through the jungle, I was told thatt the first tree huggers were from India; 294 men and 69 women of the Bishnois branch of Hinduism, who died in 1730 while trying to protect the trees in their village from becoming raw material for building a palace. They clung to the trees while being slaughtered. But their action led to a royal decree prohibiting the cutting of trees in any Bishnoi village. Thee days the villages are virtual wooded oases amid an otherwise desert landscape.

The Bishnois inspired the Chipko movement (chipko means “to cling” in Hindi) that started in the 1970s, when a group of peasant women in the Himalayan hills of northern India threw their arms around trees designated to be cut down. Within a few years, this tactic, also known as tree satyagraha, spread across India, forcing reforms in forestry and a ban on tree-felling in Himalayan regions.

among the trees only thoughts and shadows move

木木木

The traveller, farmer, writer or must seek isolation, whether he or she likes it or not. So I walk through the forests and hills back to where Yenisei has fashioned a small yurt from branches and canvas, marveling that yet again I found my way. Through Bashō we learn that the true writer does not lead a sedentary life, and indeed must walk in order to express his or her syllables. Bashō walked for 156 days through Japan in his legendary ′Deep Road to the Far North,’ series of haibun that defined the term.

By walking on his long walk, Bashō also demonstrated that the true haiku and haibun haijin’s tool is not the pen but the wooden staff. Not only does this staff lift branches and part bushes to see the dew drops and flower petals, but it can also be leant on when searching the sky for floating eagles, patterned clouds and drifting cherry blossoms. The wooden staff also taps haiku on a road perfectly, like a variant of morse code message to nature:

win—ter—is—o—ver

a—dog—barks—to—each—tap

of—my—carved—staff

My journey is in fact a journal of nature—a kikôbun. Ahaibun is a pilgrimage, maybe only of ideas, but a kikôbun has no destination, despite being a journey. The travel journal that is the kikôbun denotes a wanderer that is not Quixotic in his or her reveries, but rather seeks to record. A sword or lance of any kind must therefore be put aside for other quests, as a kikôbun merely takes from the nature that is seen when walked through, to put onto lines on pages. The semiotic wooden walking staff therefore takes on symbolic meaning.

My wooden staff— the kikôbun’s sword carving thoughts

Not Don Quixote, nor wandering samurai, what, then? Like the Navajo in the southwestern states, who use wooden tools on mother earth lest they leave scars, I don’t set out to make an impression that might not heal.

my staff slices the trees still stand and yet…

木木木

The ice patterns blown onto plants are more beautiful than the flowers that briefly bloom in summer, and more fragile. But my journey into Siberia brought me equally tender and graceful moments, landscapes, untamed, grandiose, full of proud fir trees, and the natural home of Siberian religion, for the true Siberian religion is shamanism, and travelling through the Siberian taiga is also taking another journey into the spirit world with a shaman encountered on a muddy village path, or up in a grassland meadow.

I know shamanism well from the Saami people in Lappland, and find female shamans are able to reach further into the sky. Shamanism also has a spiritual home in the steppes of Kazakhstan, and Yakutia, in the north. From Kalmykia on the shores of the Caspian to Korea, true shamans listen and interpret what nature is trying to say. No traveller or journey man or woman can remain untouched by this simple and compelling spirituality.

to know your path follow the shadows of the tracks above you

I realise my guide Yenisei is a shaman first through her commitment to her forest environment, even before watching her use different herbs for nutrition and salvation, spiritual purposes that involved intricate rituals.

northern lights

the night sky whispers in colour at the edge of the town

Yenisei teaches me to be at one with the forest around me She does this by encouraging me to sense the forest as well as merely see it. As all simple messages, it takes time to fully understand and grasp, but as I do I feel real comfort.

pine trees gently sway -is it the wind blowing or is it my mind?

Her rituals are deeply personal, and intimate, and it feels like such an honour that she lets me watch, and participate, showing a trust one only finds among forest-dwellers. And I don’t take notes. The rituals of the shaman are not to be broadcast wherever one feels like, so I will give only the most basic of impressions here.

Before any sacred shaman ceremony, juniper is burnt. The very first step is the connection with nature, and the juniper must be sought and found. Yenisei chose the juniper bush carefully, studying the texture of the berries and tasting a few, before deciding on the right bush in the right location. She put her juniper berry mixture into some oil in a small bowl, which she heated with a candle in her hand and walked the perimetre of a clearing she had found with longest view facing northwards.

She took the rest of the juniper needles and berries and boiled them into an immune-strengthening tea that helps heal the digestive system, pulling energy into the solar plexus. This juniper berry tea acts as a diuretic to help support the function of the liver and kidneys and expel toxins, energising the endocrine system. Pine needles from other pine trees can also be used for tea, or birch bark, and nettles.

She started softly tapping her shaman drum. The rhythm of a drum further energises and awakens the inner senses., and she had specified no shyness or holding back when transprted by the beat of one’s rhythm. Then came the hush. My Evenki shaman listened, especially for the sacred cuckoo bird, a symbol of good luck: hearing it could improve your spirit and feeling — if we let it, and we listened to the sounds of nature for strength.

Yenisei then spoke, softly. She said juniper pine needles were dropped nto the hands of those taking part in the shaman ceremony. The closed hands are passed over the incense or oil lamp a few times, and palms are opened to reveal the pine needles, which are ‘read.’ Being right, or wrong, was not important. What was important was to come to a consensus about possible meanings, and that in this concensus the healing may begin.

sounds of the drum

through the trees echoes tapped

shaman

her eyes lit by fire

the yurt by song

We sleep a while. Then from my bag I take out a packet of coffee made by an Italian friend, roasting the coffee on the charcoal dawn fire. I serve it to Yenisei, as she purrs herself awake and unwraps herself, naked, from the fur. In front of our shelter a beautful sight: a ring of green fire, the Aurora Borealis.

midwinter night a dark sky's lights dance in the wolf's eyes

northern lights the magic world speaks shaman inspired

木木木

I find it difficult in Novosibirsk, the capital of Siberia, and do not need to be in the capital of anywhere. Soon Yenisei will show me how to draw the birch sap from the trees, and I will literally taste the taiga. Today, though, Yenisei, my mysterious shaman has other duties to take care of, and so will make her own path alone, and let me make mine. We will part ways, my shaman and I, my guide, in more ways than one.

among the pine trees only one set of footprints- mine

And I write one more haiku, as I wach her become a small dot on a space between trees that is my horizon, walking lightly in the soft snow.

snowflakes and I on the path this morning even the trees are lonely

木木木

We often talk about taking the train, but of course, the train takes you, just like a dream does. Everytime one steps up the steps of a train carriage, one steps into a dream.

on the train deep into the soul of Siberia we share bread and reverie

My travelling ccompanions on the train eastwards through the forests are American. American travellers busy sewing or sticking flags of Canada to bags and shirts is legendary and has almost become de rigeur. It is rare, however, that being an American is alone an offense, and cetainly not in Siberia. All the same, one of the Americans across from me is busy plastering Canadian patches on bags and clothing, before practicing the accent with a lot of lilted ‛ays.’

“I am not sure all the matriachical train station guards in the small towns along the railroad tracks will spot the difference,’’ I say.

“Hey man, you gotta do what you gotta do,’’ says the young man. “Where’s Snowden anyway?’’ he adds, “I’d like to meet him, maybe even bring him in. There must be some kind of reward.’’

“Well, Canadians wouldn’t be saying that,’’ I said, “and you never know what kind of microphones they have on trains.’’

The American goes quiet in contemplation, a silence broken only by the pretty sight of his travelling colleague, Linda, slipping out of her flip flops and painting her toenails bright red.

“I’d do this in the bathroom normally,’’ she chuckles.

She was from Florida, and wasn’t exactly sure where the train was heading.

“All the way to Vladivostok,’’ I answered.

“And no cute guys,’’ she said.

She was good-looking in a disharming sort of way, with strawberry blonde hair, but as such did not stand out in the carriage, aside from her flip flops which set her apart from the high heels worn by the Russian women on the train. Inside the compartment it was too warm as usual in eastern Europe, but most passengers have kept their sweaters on regardless, as if judging the temperature by the view outside, where patches of snow flashed by under the fir trees.

Linda puts her heels on the seat beside me across from where she sat. “I could paint a little white maple leaf on,’’ she giggles.

At a small station her male colleague dashes off to restock on food, eschewing the fresh pine pastries being sold from baskets on the platform and buying instead overpriced stale buns in plastic packets from the buffet.

“They even asked if I was American, man,’’ he says, mournefully, returning.

“Don’t worry, only the mosquitoes weren’t fooled,’’ says Linda.

winter morning- the scenery paints itself into my imagination

木木木

I find out that about 150,000 inmates were imprisoned in more than 150 camps in the Perm region during the late 1940s. This was about a third of the working population of the region:

Perm-36 Labour Camp Schedule

Daily Schedule of a Gulag Prisoner Time Activity

6:00 AM Wake up call

6:30 AM Breakfast

7:00 AM Roll-call

7:30 AM1 ½ hour to march to forests, under guarded escort

6:00 PM1 ½ hour return march to camp

7:30 PM Dinner

8:00 PM After-dinner camp work duties (chop firewood, shovel snow, gardening, road repair, etc.)

11:00 PM Lights out

Much of the railroad has been laid by the bare hands of prisoners from labour camps, whose prison was Siberia itself. Gulags rarely needed fences or guard towers. Escapees were never going to get far. And the railroad still crushes the bones of those who perished building it.

Not everyone who laid down rail lines in Siberia was a prisoner. Many volunteered, and even stayed afterwards. Those people have a special inner peace about them. An understanding and deep respect of nature. They are people who prefer the numbing colds of winter to the pleasant summers, full of unforeseen dangers and reckless laziness.

Their sense of freedom is like nothing experienced elsewhere, and maybe all the more so because it is worked so hard for. Freedom in the land of gulags. It is an interesting thought. But for all its history of brutality and horror, Siberia is a vast, mystical land, a land of shamans who reach where the church or mosque doesn’t, and where temperature plunges so low that cement or metal foundations of buildings are useless next to the hardy wooden ones of the taiga, thus proving, once again that nature wins.

the further one travels

the more opens up

behind us

木木木

Two decades ago I drank a glass or two of homemade wine on a front porch, with a retired postman who’d walked home from Toliatti, on the Volga, from the non-descript decrepid town somewhere on a trainline in the middle of Russia.

Delivering the post had been his job — to the Hungarian eighth army who had invaded the Soviet Union in support of German troops, during the Second World War. And János delivered mail. He collected it from the train, or trucks and delivered it to the front line troops. This is a more important role than it first appears, for a man cannot fight without news that his loved ones are well.

It was love that made János walk. In the middle of the Second War and the middle of Toliatti, János delivered his mail and kept walking. He walked out of the town, along the trainline, then through the taiga, through the trees, over forested hills, across rivers and sleeping in the woods on the edges of villages. He walked, and walked, all the way back to Eastern Hungary, across the steppes then great plain. He walked under stars, raindrops and hailstones, from sunrises to sunsets, to the golden soils of the wine-growing town of Tokaj, back to his wife.

When he arrived back, he discovered his sister-in-law had been taken away, just taken off to the gulags of Siberia. So he turned around and walked again, attempting to find her, somewhere in the hugeness that was the Siberian taiga. He never found out what happened to her, but still now missed the Siberian forests, and especially the tribespeople that were its inhabitants. As I sat in Tokaj, Eastern Hungary, drinking his delicious homemade wine, which he kept in a wine cellar dug into the hillside, I noticed her picture, his sister-in-law, hanging on the wall; a beautiful young woman, the portrait soft in the evening glow.

János spoke no English but we understood each other very well. We shared much, János and I, much of the same soul, as we refilled or glasses, glancing at the portrait of the young woman who died in the gulag.

water drop on a branch from a cloud far above  — tiny tree magnified

木木木

We are in Yekatinberg. Among the Ural mountains outside Yekatinberg’s eastern balconies in pine-scented forests, I think of János and his long monthly walk, passing through here years before. I am not a man of the pencil-line horizon, and I walk upwards, to the nearest peak, to compose my haiku.

high in mountain forests where even shadows don’t reach nature inspires through silence

Siberia is home to so many who live with nature. Winter, when traps are laid, and fresh water comes from holes dug deep in the ice, is discreetly turning towards spring. I always miss the hard, yet pristine environment of the winter months in the forest. Winter is a time when travel is often easier, across solid lakes and rivers and through frozen forests. It is a time when hospitality is offered, when bears are not around near villages, nor dangerous ticks and bothersome mosquitos in muddy parts of the forests.

Soon though, the bears will be out again, and hungry. It is not possible to chase them away when fishing. They will always come back, so must be shot. The leaves will shimmer in the breeze. It will be harder to follow animal tracks, and easier for animals to keep their distance from hunters. In Tyumen I will only see the fort from afar. I don’t mind. I feel at home among the birch and pine trees, and castles all seem seem to share such similar histories.

Tyumen fort shines at night not as much as the birch trees -such longing

I look over at Linda, now applying another colour of nailpolish. I imaged her taking a few barefoot steps with snow melting.

she walks in the snow until the grass at the edge of spring

But by the time I have scribbled my three lines and looked up again out of the train window it is snowing:

how thoughtless-

spring blossoms are late yet another haiku about snow

木木木

Stragglers are we. All for what? Sometimes, like now, its good to get off before the end of the journey, then the journey really never ends. Until then, the traps are set. The night is young. The snow is fresh. I’ve seen the tracks. The conditions are difficult for the elk right now. The snow is not strong enough to support elks, so they often get stuck, making easy meat for hungry wolves and awakening bears. And an elk, or caribou in north America, can provide food for a long time.

But the taiga used to be home to a much larger mammal: for four hundred years, thousands of mammoth tusks have been found in Siberia, about fifty thousand of them, from mammoths almost intact, with many organs perfectly frozen and stomachs half full of food — at times the blood still viscous due to the ‘anti-freeze’ components found in the blood, so called cryptoprotective properties, as in Arctic amphibians and fish.

It is quite easy to imagine that at some point in the future a mammoth is going to be cloned using that viscous blood. Large animals like the woolly mammoth could help stabilise the ecosystem in parts of Siberia.

But why so many mammoths ended up in Siberia remains a real mystery. Why did millions of the woolly mammoth move to the cold in Siberia, and how did they die so quickly after eating? Did a massive cold front move suddenly from the Arctic? That would be a climatic condition that does not exist today. If this is the case, it would have been very cold — freezing a mammoth suddenly and quickly is no easy thing at all. It would have taken temperatures as low as -100°C. The mystery is far from solved…

so many tusks found far in the Siberian tundra we step over ancients

木木木

On the Road of Bones you never travel alone. Here, they say, words themselves freeze, dropping in tiny fragments, tinkling like a wind chime.  This is the notorious road built by the prisoners of the Gulags, the torture camps.The road stretches to Magadan on the Pacific ocean, from Yakutsk in Yakutia, a vast mysterious republic within the even larger emptiness of Siberia. A republic that would be the eighth largest country in the world if fully independent, with a population of just 1 Million.

In the distance

more forest

—and more distance

Here in Yakutia the temperature can plunge to -60°C, rendering the road a gamble that only those needing to escape a misdemeanor take, or those imbibed with a certain madness. But who would go in summer, when the mud and mosquitoes make escape almost impossible and madness almost sure?

So the best time to go is in late winter, before the melting of snow and floods, when the cold is loosening its bitter grip - but even then it is dangerous, for when the temperature rises it begins to snow heavily again, after being too cold to snow during the winter months. And the wolves are hungry by then. And I mean hungry. Last winter a pack of 400 wolves killed 300 horses before they were finally driven away. But we gamble. We leave behind the rugged Yakutians who want us to stay until June, the summer solstice, and the start of the new year in Yakutia, when the republic is full of festivities, and greets the rising sun in the morning as one.

sunrise- drumbeats of snow thud

from high branches

Yakutia means a chance to also explore the Buddhist nature that lies within each of us. I sit facing the last of the taiga, the last birch tree, and compose my haiku – peacefully, I thought.

pine needles make a comfortable rest oh! stinging ants!

And I return to the train. The Trans-Siberian, and stare at the early morning dawn.

trees touch sunlight something blossoms in me I ask no more of my forest

木木木

The train nears the Pacific coast, near to the land of  volcanoes called Kamchatka, but on this journey we are only passing by, and our last stop will be Vladivostok. Vladivostok is the kind of city I would like to arrive to at dawn, and there has always been something fascinating about this last city on a train line that one could start in Portugal if one so desired, with a few waits on station platforms in-between.

In Vladivostok we will be near the North Korean border but also near to Japan. But for now I would be satisfied to sit on a wooden bench facing the Pacific. I think about Ese, photographer and writer who drove up from Bulgaria to the beautifully forested Carpathian mountains of Western Ukraine, to be my translator and travel companion at the start of my journey through Siberia. Together we hiked from village to village, tasting the homemade wine and raindrops, sleeping in bales of hay and cottages, walls covered with local hammered tin art.

While trekking a trail that wound up through pine forests on steep hills where small brooks and streams tumbled, and Carpathian chamois carefully took their quick morning drinks I sat against a tree trunk and edited a draft of her fascinating book, Butterfly Thy Name, a raw intimate journal covering her inner desires, while she joked with me about coming on the Trans-Siberian and adding another exotic chapter. Ese was disarmingly frank.

“I have an idea that a half Ukrainian, half Georgian lumberjack with fine equipment would be an exciting, erotic mix,’’ she declared, and smiled when I said “Vladivostok or bust!”

hello Ese I am here at last, facing the sea  — without you

And then I know with rare certainty that when I arrive in Vladivostok I will already miss the trees of the Siberian taiga:

-her beauty

thousands of miles away

in the immediacy of my mind

木木木

Some notes on Shinrin-Joku, or Forest Bathing:

The history of forests is an alternative history.  Yet looking back, we can see clear signs of how trees contributed to physical and mental heath. Tuberculosis, for example, was incurable only a smattering of decades ago. Up to the mid 20th century it was the norm to send people to the mountains in Switzerland, or somewhere where the air was fresh. But when those afflicted by the deadly lung disease went to the hills, where were they going, exactly? They were not going to the peaks, but in fact to the mountain forests. It was not specificaly mountain air that was healing, but perhaps more the forests, from the pines and fir trees, which grow on elevations from the sea up to 3960 metres on a mountainside. The Paimio Tuberculosis sanatorium, in Finland, was an example of this, where until the 1950s patients were wheeled out into the forest itself, which was more or less at sea level. Contrary to expectations, results also seemed to be magnified when the forest air trapped moisture.

Rehabilitation through interaction with forestry has long included psychological issues. When one is deep in a forest, on a path between tall trees all three potentially negative issues melt away. Among the many reasons to preserve our ancient forests, the emotional ones stand tall. Forests are the perfect landscape to cultivate what are called transcendent experiences—unforgettable moments, of attunement to that outside the self, and moments that are ultimately perceived as very important to each of us.

It was in 1982 that the Forest Agency of Japan unveiled shinrin-yoku, forest bathing, in the beautiful woods of Yakushima. Yakushima was chosen because it contains some of Japan’s most pristine forests, including those of select cedar trees that are over 1,000 years old.

The first findings of shinrin-yoku testing showed lower levels of the stress hormone cortisol in subjects after forest walks, compared with those who took laboratory walks. It was the first hint that a walk in a forest might not be the same as a walk in a different environmental setting.

We know now that time within forests reduces psychological stress, depressive symptoms, and hostility, while at the same time improving sleep and increasing both vigor and a feeling of liveliness, and lowering blood pressure and pulse rate. Studies also show increased heart rate variability, which is a good thing because it means the circulatory system can to respond well to stress.

Research has shown that the emotions of pleasure and happiness are elevated with an increase in tree density. The bigger and denser the trees, the higher the scenic beauty scores—up to a point.  Arguably the composition of the air intake, the serenity and at times majesty or beauty of the surroundings will all have a role to play. Forest bathing; spending time in forests, increases ability to focus.

It takes only twenty minutes of shinrin-yoku to alter cerebral blood flow to a state of relaxation and opyomose hemoglobin (as found in red blood cells). Stress hormones that can compromise immune defense are dramatically reduced. This is vital: activities of antiviral white blood natural killer cells are suppressed by stress hormones.

Since forest bathing can lower stress hormone production and elevate mood states, it is not surprising that it can also influence immune system strength, specifically increases in the number of  white blood natural killer cells, increases in the functional activity of these antiviral cells and increases in the amount of intracellular anticancer proteins. In addition, the level of the hormone serum adiponectin is also increased. When this hormone is present in low concentrations it is linked with obesity, type 2 diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and metabolic syndrome, among other bodily disorders. These changes can be noted at a significant level for a full week after some time in a forest.

Natural chemicals secreted by evergreen trees, collectively known as phytoncide, such as a-pinene and limonene, have also been associated with improvements in the activity of our frontline immune system. Measurements of the amount of phytoncides in the air during studies have correlated the content to improvements in immune functioning. In the fresh forest air we breathe in the phytoncides. The trees give off these chemicals to protect themselves from insects. Phytoncides have antibacterial and antifungal qualities which help the evergreen trees and plants fight disease. When we take in these chemicals, our bodies respond by increasing the number and activity of a type of white blood cell natural killer cells. Increased activity from these important calls from three-day, two-night forest bathing trip lasts for more than thirty days.

Spending time in forests gives the cognitive portion of our brain a break, allowing us to focus better and renew our ability to be calm. Patients recover from surgery faster and better when they have a view of trees, and had fewer postsurgical complications compared to those who had no view or a view of a cement wall. The use of pain medications is significantly lower than that of rooms with no plants; patients have lower blood pressure and heart rate, and rated their pain to be much lower. Patients who have plants in their rooms also have comparatively higher energy levels, more positive thoughts, and lower levels of anxiety.

Since a view of nature or a few potted plants can influence subjective and objective measures of stress, and maybe get us out of the hospital faster, it seems likely that nature can keep us out of the infirmary to begin with. The first indication that this might be the case was examination of the annual sick records of the State Prison of Southern Michigan, which highlighted a glaring difference in health-care utilisation based on prison cell location. Those inmates housed in the cells facing outside to a view of forests had far fewer visits to the medical division than did those inmates housed with a view of a concrete yard.

Research in Japan showed that greening select high school classrooms with potted plants for a four-month trial period significantly reduced visits to the infirmary compared with age-matched students attending classes without the visible plants.

But forests need not be merely admired. Forest gardening is historically the prime source of gardening in tropical regions and the most traditional of land use forms. It is also probably the most resilient of agroecosystems, and are the most common form of land use in Kerala, in southern India. They are also common in Nepal, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Tanzania, Sri Lanka, Mexico and Java, and have been shown to be a significant source of income and food security for local populations. These gardens exemplify polyculture, in layers, building a woodland habitat, and conserve much crop genetic diversity and heirloom plants that are not found in monocultures.

Kerala has three and a half million forest gardens. Even the smallest forest garden can hold over twenty coconut palms, over ten cloves, over fifty banana and pineapple trees and thirty pepper vines, with additional fodder.

In Nepal, 70% of households have home gardens of an area 2–11% of the total land holdings, cultivated with a mixture of annual and perennial plants that can be harvested on a daily or seasonal basis. Biodiversity that has an immediate value is maintained in home gardens, as women and children have easy access to preferred food, and for this reason alone we should promote home gardens as a key element for a healthy way of life.

A natural forest is divided into seven distinct layers:

a ‘canopy’ layer

a ‘low-tree’ layer of smaller nut and fruit trees

a ‘shrub layer’ of fruit bushes

a ‘herbaceous layer’ of perennial vegetables and herbs

a ‘ground cover’ layer of edible plants

a ‘rhizosphere’ of plants grown for their roots and tubers

a ‘vertical layer’ of vines and climbers.

Forest Gardens are ideal projects for open spaces such as industrial wastelands, where trees can be planted, where even in heavily built up areas, new ‘city forests’ could contain perennial vegetables with little intervention.

At some stage forest gardening leads to forest farming, combining trees with crops or livestock, or both, on the same piece of land. Products typically fit into the following categories: edible, medicinal and dietary supplements, floral or decorative, or specialty wood-based products. Toyohiko Kagawa, who began forest farming in Japan during the 1930s, persuaded many of Japan’s farmers to plant fodder trees to conserve soil, supply food and feed animals. Then World War II disrupted communication and slowed his advances in forest farming, unfortunately changing the course of agriculture again.

Researchers in Japan and South Korea are re-establishing that connection again, with their scientific advances in the study of forest bathing. Perhaps one of the greatest benefits I personally discovered about shinrin-yoku, that stays with me, is the way it starts, and deepens long enduring friendships.

how many plants

Can I fit into

one haiku-

木木木

[astoryworthoftelling]

The Princess and the Robins

Prompt: The reader is the daughter of Oliver Queen. Because he has to work late the reader will spent a day at the Wayne Manor with Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Alfred. She is around six years old, but do not let her age fool you, she is quite smart!!

A/N: It is finally here! I hope you enjoy it. As always feel free to make a request and suggest/comment! As you know, I am open to reviews. 

Word count: 1,981!

Warnings: None

Word keys:

Y/n: Your name

“Olly olly oxen free” : Catchphrase used to indicate that players who are hiding can come out into the open without losing the game.

The mini series: Part 1 Part 2

“Welcome” Bruce said welcoming you and your father into the manor. 

“Hi, Bruce” Your father said “Thanks for helping me with y/n” He looked down and you were hiding behind him.

“No problem “ He smiled “Hey y/n, how are you?” 

You looked at him with your eyes wide open and smiled shyly.

“She is still having problems with talking to other people...” Your father said and softly patted your head. 

“I don’t think that will be a problem” He laughed 

“Whatever you need or if something happens call me” 

“It is going to be ok, remember we have Alfred” Bruce laughed 

“Now princess, behave. Ok?” He smiled and gave you a kiss “You will be with uncle bruce and I will pick you up tomorrow in the morning. I love you kiddo” 

“Oliver, she will be ok” He tried not to laugh at your father “Y/n, please come in” He smiled and you said goodbye with your hands and enter the manor.

“Let’s eat some breakfast, shall we?” He smiled at you and you nodded and smiled widely.

You entered the kitchen and saw Alfred and smiled. “Welcome miss.Y/n” He said and smiled “We have pancakes for breakfast with chocolate milk, is that ok?” You nodded quickly. “Perfect” He said and served two pancakes and the chocolate milk. 

You started eating and saw Bruce sitting on the other side of the table, then you saw Dick entering the room.

“Little Y/n!” He said surprised and really happy. You smiled and said hi with your hand really fast “How are you?” You raised your hand and made a thumbs up. “Great, me too!” He smiled and sat next to you.

Then Jason came in and saw you, he was smoking and you frowned and covered your nose.

“Jason put that out” Bruce said 

“Only because ‘lil y/n does not like it” He replied and after he ash it. 

“Y/n is here?” Tim said as he entered the room and the moment he saw you he smiled and sat next to you and in front of Dick “Hey!” You waved your hand and smiled again

“TT, Who is y/n?” An unknown voice said and an boy joined.

“Damian, this is y/n, she is daughter of Oliver Queen” Bruce said introducing you

You smiled and waved.

“Oh, hi” He said with a monotone voice “May I ask why is she here?” 

“You just did” Tim said.

“She is going to stay for the night, her father is going to work late and he needs someone to take care for her” Bruce smiled.

“So...babysit” Damian replied and looked at you and his brothers were talking to you and you replied like if you were playing charades. “Doesn’t she know how to talk?” He said confused.

“She does, but she doesn’t do it quite often” Dick said

“Yeah, thats what her father says, but I don’t remember hearing her say anything before, have you?” Tim asked Jason and he denied

“I have” Alfred said while giving Damian a plate with pancakes

“You have?” Everyone said amused 

“Yeah, does that comes as a surprise?” He said “Maybe it is due to the fact that I have some experience with kids”

“Yes you do, Alfred” Bruce laughed, he looked at you enjoying the boys company.

After eating breakfast, the boys showed you the manor, once again, you watched some cartoons and Alfred prepared dinner one hour earlier than usual. After that, the boys saw that you were still quite awake so they decided to make one more activity.

“What do you want to play?” Tim said “How about video games?” 

“TT, Drake I hardly believe she knows how to play one” Damian said 

“I can teach her” He replied

“Why don’t we play outside?” Dick said. And you slowly denied.

“I know what you want to play” Jason said “How about hide and seek?” And you giggled and nod quickly. “I knew it” He said proudly

“Hide and seek it is” Dick said 

“Wait, how about a bet?” Jason said to his brothers with a devilish smile.

“I think a bet would make for us the game more interesting” Tim said “I am in”

“TT, me too” Damian said with a smirk in his face

“Me three” Grayson smiled

You started jumping and raised your hand 

“Really y/n?” Jason said a little confused and you nodded quickly “Well...then it is settled, we will bet something” 

“I say we exchange patrol hours” Tim said

“TT, Drake I can not stop being amazed by your stupidity, remember that the toddler can not go out to patrol”

When you heard him call you toddler you frowned and grumble

“Damian, remember. y/n doesn't likes to be called a toddler...” Dick said and kindly smiled to you in a silent apology

“Yeah, sorry kiddo” He replied 

“Ok, so what if we give something?” Tim said  

Damian made a devilish smile “How about something of our Robin’s suits?”

“Don’t you dare” Jason said

“TT, How about your red hood?” He said with some arrogance in his voice. 

“No. I will give you something else, but not my hood”

“What? Are you afraid to loose it?” Damian smiled widely “Again”

“No...and I took it back” He said a little upset

“So...you are afraid of loosing it again, huh?” Damian said persuading him

“I am not afraid” He replied

“Well then, what do you have to loose?” Damian smiled knowing he already won.

“Fine. But If I win I want something from your Robin’s costume”

“Sounds good for me” Damian replied

“Ok, so everyone will give something about their costume?” Dick asked a little confused

“Sounds fair to me” Tim said indifferently 

“But what about you y/n?” Damian asked

You frowned and smiled, you made a sign pointing you had an idea, you took your bag and grabbed your tiara, you smiled.

“Are you sure?” Damian asked

You nodded happily 

“It is settled.” Jason said “The last one to be found, will be the winner” 

The boys looked at each other. Each of them planning the best place to hide

“Rules are simple” Jason said looking at everyone “Not going out of the manor and because of obvios reasons, the cave is out of limit”

“I want to be the seeker” Dick said “I will count to fifty and start looking for you” 

“Ready?” Tim said

You nodded quickly with excitement waiting for Dick to turn his back and start counting.

“One” 

 You ran as fast as your legs were able. You passed several rooms, you saw Alfred and when he saw you you giggled and put your fingers in your mouth in sign of silence. He nodded and you ran off again. 

“Fifty! Ready or not, here I come!” Dick announced 

Dick started his chase through the manor, the first one to be found was Tim and despite that he was a great detective, he was not the best at this game. Both boys started looking for the other three. The minutes passed and Jason was found.

“NOOOO! My hood” He complained

Suddenly the boys heard some steps in the hall and it was Damian who started running to the base.

“STOP HIM!” Jason shouted and started running behind Dick and Tim

Despite Damian’s effort, no one could beat Dick’s ability to dodge the furniture and get to the base before him.

“GRAYSON!” He complained

“HA!” Jason said the moment he arrived “My hood is saved!” He said triumphantly

“TT, Todd” Damian laughed 

“You are forgetting that there is one person we have not found...” Tim said

“Y/N” Dick said

“Well, that will be easier” Jason said “How hard could it be to find a little kid?”

“Not that hard” Tim said “If she wasn’t little and we weren't on a manor”

“Oh man...” Jason said

And with that, the boys started their search for little y/n. At the beginning they were hopeful that it wouldn't be that hard, that she was hiding behind the curtains or in a bathroom, but unlikely Tim, you were good at this game. And the first hour passed.

“Ok” Jason said “How are we supposed to tell Bruce that we lost y/n in the manor?”

“TT, she has to be somewhere” Damian said looking under the bed of Bruce’s room

“You know, I am starting to think that she fall asleep and can’t hear us” Tim said opening the closet

“Y/n?” The boys said your name and suddenly Alfred appeared 

“Is everything ok?” He said 

“Yeah, yeah” All of them nervously laughed “Why?”

“Where is Miss Y/n?” He raised a brow

“We don’t know” Dick said “We are playing hide and seek”

“And she is really good” Jason added

“Don't you happen to know where is she?” Tim said

“No, but you better find her before Master Bruce arrives...” He looks at the clock on the wall “He will be here in an hour”

“Well then we should keep going” Dick said and pulled his brothers once again in the manor’s maze

“TT, seriously” Damian said closing the door of another room and sat on the couch of the living room “Where is she?” 

“I am pretty sure we have searched the entire house” Tim said as he sat on the other side of the same couch.

“Yeah, me too”  Dick said and joined his brothers, Jason followed him.

“I am officially exhausted” Jason said 

And without notice they all fell asleep. The moment you realized they stopped looking for you, you went out of your hide out and start looking for them. When you found them asleep in the couch, you scooched between Dick and Damian and fall asleep. 

Bruce arrived to the manor. “Hello, Alfred”

“Hello Master Bruce” He said while he took his coat

“Was everything ok?” He asked 

“As the matter in fact, yes.” He said and look at bruce “You should come and see something”  They both walked to the living room and found all of you asleep.

“So it was an interesting day” Bruce said and smiled 

“It was. Miss Y/n, won a bet against the boys” Alfred added

“A bet?” Bruce said confused “What did they bet?”

“Oh, you will find out in the morning” He contained his laugh and looked at you peacefully sleeping “I would suggest taking her to her chambers so she can sleep properly”  

“I will take her” Bruce said and gently carried you. 

Before Alfred went out of the room “Oh, and I also suggest not to awake the masters” 

“Why?” Bruce asked 

“Believe Master Bruce, you will want to see their reaction in the morning”

Bruce was quite confused with Alfred’s comment, but chose not to awake the boys. He tuck you in and turn on the night light.

The next morning the boys woke up and realizing the fall asleep and they did not found you they ran all over the place until they found you eating your breakfast.

“Good morning boys” Bruce said and laughed the moment he saw them surprised by your presence. 

You looked at them with a broad smile “Olly olly oxen free” You sang and and giggled.

“Oh my god” They all said with unison 

“Y/n” Bruce said “Your father is here” He smiled 

You softly smiled and picked your bag and the prizes you won. The boys followed you and said their goodbyes. 

��Hello kiddo” Your father smiled and took your bag “Hey, you brought your tiara!” Your father said the moment he saw you wearing it.“What do you have there?”

“Just something I won!” You said happily while holding tightly Jason’s red hood, Dick’s escrima sticks, Tim’s belt and Damian’s grappling hook. 

[writingcommons-blog1]

“The Story of Janai Meyers” by Janai M.

The story of Janai Meyers-Where does it start? According to my aunt, TT, I was nameless for the first few months of my life. My mom was expecting me, but she kept that to herself. No one knew of my existence until I arrived home. No one ever questioned about the new chocolate baby, that resembled a Buddha statue, other than my sister, Jessica. She once told me, “I remember coming home from school one day. You were on the couch, in the front room at the house on Woodlawn- I asked, ‘Who’s this baby’ and my momma said, ‘That’s your sister.’ During the days that I was nameless, my mom considered naming me Lucille. This would have been fitting seeing as it is engraved forever on my right wrist. The name was my late grandmother’s; She did not want me to have her name. My mom said she called the it “an old southern woman’s name” and said that “her little chocolate Milk Dud had to have a ‘J’ name.”

This brings me to why a “J” name? There are millions of baby girl names that could have easily been mine. I sometimes think how I could have been a Maddison, Brandy, Kali, or Brittany. Well my mom and dad’s names are Joyce and Jeffery. I have three older sisters, Jocelyn, Jennifer, and Jessica- then there’s my older brother, Jeremiah. So, my mom had no choice but to continue the pattern. So where did Janai come from? My aunt is the one who named me. She told me, “Your mom wanted a ‘J’ name that was not ghetto.” Which meant my mom wanted me to be able to get a decent job without being racially profiled. TT continued with, “The constant turning between those thirty-five pages made me remember almost every name beginning with a “J”. So, I remembered Janay. A simply beautiful name that your mother thought was ghetto- so out of all the spellings of the name, Janay, Janae, Janney, Jenaé, Jenaye, and Jenée I did not see one with an “i”. She never really explained to me why the ‘i’ was significant, but as I grew up I figured it out myself. It was not because the letter made the name less ghetto; the ‘i’ in my name was not commonly used not even for the name De’Jenaé. Using the ‘i’ in my name gave it a uniqueness that my aunt wanted me to have. So that is how I was named Janai.

NOW, this may sound like a normal “baby” story, though being nameless for a few months is not all that ordinary. Nothing about the story of Janai Meyers seems uncommon for a family, right? That’s exactly what I thought. Born Janai Meyers, but up until six months ago I technically did not exist. If you rewind the clock back two years- It’s me on the stoop of my apartment. My brother is holding me while we were listening to my mom tell us the true story of “ Janai Meyers.” How she was initially put for adoption, but after seeing the round chocolate baby face, the mother could not let her go. The calmness in the air and in my brother helped me conquer the words I was hearing. The soundless air made her voice even more intense. I’m not a crier, but tears streamed down my face as I listened to my mom, technically a criminal, tell me how she took me from the hospital through the back exit; where no one even knew I was missing. She figured no one would be watching her; she was right. I can just picture the lonely white hallways filled with those melancholic paintings as my mom dash towards the exit. I can imagine her being fragile when she carried me in her arms tight enough to keep me from the rain, because I was born during a storm, as my grandparents waited in the car. To hear from her mouth how my life had been a complete lie. And just to think the truth came out all because of the cornerstone of everyone’s identity, a birth certificate.

You see I never had a birth certificate- well not a real one. And for years my mom hid it from me. To be frank, everyone in my family knew, except my brother and I, of course. And they kept it as one huge family secret. My grandparents knew the entire story, from adoption to no birth certificate, and they took it to the grave with them. The rest of my family felt it was not their place to tell me; it was my mom’s. They were right. However, to be out of the loop on your own life for nineteen years is unheard of. Not to mention all the trouble I had to go through to get an actual birth certificate. So again, I ask. The story of Janai Meyers-Where does it start?

Once I was told the truth, first thing on my agenda was to find my “birth certificate.” As I said, my mom hid it from me for years. I can remember being in either kindergarten or first grade when I first asked her to see it. She made up some lame excuse- to think about it, she always had an excuse whenever I asked to see it. Once I turn nineteen, I needed it for school so there was no more lying. The truth was because I was originally to be adopted by another family, I did not have a birth certificate-so my mom thought. But in reality, I did have one, it just did not have “Janai Meyers” on it. Instead it had “Baby Girl” as the first name and “Smith” as the last name. Before my mom snuck me out the hospital, she did sign my birth certificate, ironically; However, she used an alias, Jean Smith. Because there was no baby name on the certificate, the hospital used “Baby Girl” as a reinstatement along with the mother’s last name on file, which in my case was “Smith.” My oldest sister, Jocelyn, found my partial birth certificate when she was around twenty-one. She kept it so if ever came a time where my mom told the truth I could get a birth certificate.

So now that I had the original copy, I handled everything I needed to in court that in order to get my real name on my birth certificate. It took me over a year to do all the steps for a legal name change. But once I got that document, I realized that it does not matter how chaotic my life was at the beginning. I here and I had an amazing up bring. That is all that matter. My mom thinks I hate her for this, but the truth is I do not. I have yet to tell her that. But in reality, I understood why my mom did what she did. See, my dad was not the best dad when me and my siblings were growing up. My brother is just a year older than me, and when we were conceived our parents were separated at the time. My mom once told me, “The only reason we had your brother was because he was the only boy. But I had been raising y’all by myself for years; I just didn’t know how I was going to feed more mouths.” So, when she became pregnant with me, she knew there was no room financially for me. However, she did not believe in abortions, so she decided to give me away. She felt that the parents who would adopt me would provide for me what she could not. But she loved every child she carried. I knew and understood this two years ago on the stoop of my apartment, and I know this now.