#the will Louisa fell in love with is not the will before his accident

[terrificblanket]

the ending of me before you consistently devastates me

[n1kolaiz]

THE GREAT FITZGERALD

thank u @dazaistabletop for getting me so interested in Fitzgerald's character. ur my favourite Fitz kinnie ok mwah( ˘ ³˘)♥

Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald's novel— The Great Gatsby— was a love story that involved Jay Gatsby, whose mannerisms and characteristics appear to be quite similar to Fitzgerald in the Bungou Stray Dogs adaptation. I just finished reading The Great Gatsby so I thought I'd just make a comparison between the main protagonist of the novel and the main antagonist in BSD's Guild Arc.

Other than the fact that both Jay and Fitzgerald share similar character traits (ambitious, arrogant, and optimistic) the relationships Jay had with the other characters of the novel and the interactions that Fitzgerald had with the other characters of BSD are quite similar, too. I'll focus on three specific associations that both Fitzgerald and Jay experienced in a parallel manner:

Zelda Fitzgerald and Daisy Buchanan

Tom Buchanan

Louisa May Alcott and Nick Carraway

SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT GATSBY!

in case anyone hasn't read it but wants to :)

To avoid confusion, every time I mention Fitzgerald from here on out, I mean the character from BSD; I will specify my references if it comes to the author.

The Great Gatsby had its plot set around the time of the Roaring Twenties: the aftermath of World War I, the peak of socialite culture, and the growth of a prosperous economy and general wealth altogether.

The Roaring Twenties was also a time of luxurious pleasure and liquor, where people indulged themselves and got addicted to hedonism— the pursuit of gratification.

The Great Gatsby was actually written on the basis to prove how corrupt this age was, and the existence of such corruption was vaguely hinted by various factors, one of which included Jay Gatsby's actual source of income: being involved in the affairs of the black market. This proves that illegal activities were not uncommon around that time, as people did anything they could to achieve materialistic gains.

This isn't a history lesson, I promise.

Both Jay Gatsby and Fitzgerald had grown up in poverty and disliked the concept of being anything short of wealthy. They both worked extremely hard to attain financial abundance.

I presume that not everything they did was actually legal when it came to gaining money. As mentioned before, Jay was involved in criminal activities which founded the basis of his wealth, while Fitz once mentioned that in order to own a gun, he had to kill 4 people. He goes on to tell us that he ended up owning that specific gun's manufacturer eventually.

Daisy Buchanan and Zelda Fitzgerald.

The Great Gatsby is actually centered around Jay Gatsby's rather obsessive infatuation with Daisy.

Daisy was a beautiful lady with a incredibly charming nature— she didn't have much trouble with attracting many men back then before she got married to Tom Buchanan, the antagonist of the story and the rival of Jay Gatsby.

"Her voice was full of money," he said suddenly.

That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money— that was the inexhaustible chair that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it. the cymbals' song of it... High in a white palace the King's daughter, the golden girl...

Daisy and Jay Gatsby fell in love right before he was sent off to war and a few years before she met Tom. Before they were separated, Jay's dream of gaining wealth and status was primarily flamed by his intention of reaching Daisy's social ranking in order to be worthy of her love.

Initially, because of how passionate he was about his love for her, Jay lied to Daisy about his wealth. It was only after the War did he actually gain the riches he aimed for. By the time he did achieve his monetary goals, Daisy had married Tom already. Consequently, Jay hosted a bunch of lavish parties in order to gain her attention, prove himself and his love for her, and ultimately, win her back.

Jay perceived Daisy as a literal angel, void of any flaw whatsoever. He even tells Nick, the main character, that the fact that numerous men got romantically involved with such a lady just increased her value altogether.

But what gave it an air of breathless intensity was that Daisy lived there— it was as casual a thing to her as his tent out at camp was to him. There was a ripe mystery about it, a hint of bedrooms, of gay and radiant activities taking place through its corridors, and of romances that were not musty and laid away already in lavender but fresh and breathing and redolent of this year's shining motor cars and of dances whose flowers were scarcely withered. It excited him too that many men had already loved Daisy— it increased her value in his eyes. He felt their presence all about the house, pervading the air with the shades and echoes of still vibrant emotions.

As the story unfolded, Daisy's character was torn apart for a proper, more brutally realistic perspective of her true character, revealing a shallow, selfish lady who solely placed her interest in money and luxury, the things which she often took refuge in when things went wrong. As the plot developed itself, the actuality that Jay fell in love with the idea of Daisy, instead of Daisy herself, was much more evident. And it took quite some time for him to discover and acknowledge the truth.

Fitzgerald's love for Zelda was very apparent, too, except that it seemed more genuine and pragmatic. Not much is speculated about Fitz and Zelda's relationship in the Guild Arc, but his love for her was very deep, as everything he did was for her and their deceased daughter.

Side note: Fitzgerald (the author) based Daisy's character partially on Zelda, as both women were brought up in wealthy families and took a general liking to lifestyles revolving around money and ease.

Fitzgerald was in love with Zelda, a woman plagued by a debilitating illness. In The Great Gatsby, Jay was in love with a woman who was plagued by the deceptive addiction of self-satisfaction gained by pleasure and whatnot. Zelda was impaired by an mental illness, while Daisy was intoxicated by the security of money and prestige. This is an abstract suggestion though. Personally, that's how I interpreted this correlation when it came to examining these dynamics in their respective universes.

Tom Buchanan

As mentioned before, Thomas Buchanan was Daisy's husband and Jay's rival who had similar characteristics in matters of personality. The Toms in both book and anime were arrogant and cunning, which pretty much vouches for their selfishness.

In the book, Tom is supposedly the love of Daisy's life, except that she just married him for his money instead of waiting for Gatsby. Then again, Tom was involved in a love affair outside his marriage with a lady named Myrtle Wilson. Tom cheated on Daisy by getting involved with Myrtle. On the other hand, Daisy was unfaithful to Tom by keeping her love and relationship with Jay a secret from him.

The climax of the story partly revolves around Myrtle dying in a hit-and-run car accident. The grand twist was that Daisy was the one driving the car, and the car actually belonged to Gatsby. Because the car belonged to Gatsby, George Wilson, the husband of Myrtle, was bent on revenge and tracked down the car. He ended up killing Jay Gatsby, and soon after that, he killed himself.

It was quite a scandal, but Daisy estranged herself from such a tedious matter. In fact, when Jay died, she did not even attend his funeral. Tom was under the impression that Gatsby was the one who killed his mistress, not Daisy, his wife. Either ways, Nick described them in a way that sums up what became of them after Jay's death:

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy— they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made...

It's interesting to note that in chapter 45 of the BSD manga, Tom appears as the antagonist who was later found guilty of murdering his employee, but the blame was originally put on T.J Eckleburg, the inventor of the Eyes of God.

Side note: T.J. Eckleburg was actually an optician who appeared on a billboard advertisement in the novel. This billboard was used as a personification by Nick Carraway, which was meant to embody the representation of a displeased overseer who observed the events that unfolded before him. The Eyes of God has a similar concept: scrutinising everything with an accuracy of 97%. It's a personal speculation, but the Eyes of God was proven to be of utmost importance in the Cannibalism Arc when it came to capturing Fyodor Dostoevsky. Likewise, T.J. Eckleburg's eyes showed how corruption and misconduct never escaped his judgmental visage.

sorry about the quality of the manga panels ;-;

In the manga, Fitzgerald manages to triumph over Tom by betraying his trust altogether in order to obtain the ownership of the Eyes of God and Tom's company. This stands in contrast to what became of Jay in the novel, but the protagonist got what he wanted in this universe.

Keep in mind that Fitzgerald didn't act according to fulfil what justice required; it was purely business. Just like Jay Gatsby put on the facade of a plain, rich man who was really just bootlegging his way to opulence, Fitzgerald wasn't afraid to betray someone's trust to get what he wanted.

Nick Carraway and Louisa May Alcott

If I were to pick a character that represented Louisa May Alcott in BSD from the book, I'd pick the narrator himself: Nick Carraway. Again, this is my personal interpretation, so the association between these two characters is just my personal opinion.

Nick Carraway was known as the more reserved, cynical protagonist compared to Jay. The both of them developed a cordial friendship as the story progressed.

Nick initially took a liking to Gatsby, who was his neighbour. The enigmatic aura Gatsby emitted called for Nick's attention, and in the same way, Gatsby reciprocated his interest in Nick by making the effort to acquaint himself with him.

He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.

There were a few times which suggests that Nick didn't like the way Gatsby acted or spoke. Nevertheless, Nick was the only one who stuck with Gatsby until the end.

"They're a rotten crowd," I shouted across the lawn. "You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.

(This was the last thing Nick said to Jay before he died.)

At first, Nick was intrigued by Jay's mystical nature and peculiar idiosyncrasies, but found that Gatsby was a very strange, but 'morally bad' man. However, over time, Nick became one of the few who managed to recognise Gatsby's idealistic ambitions; he saw through all the fame and wealth and found a mere human being capable of being entrapped by love's snares. Basically, he understood Gatsby, despite disagreeing with his actions and even his behaviour at times.

As for Louisa, well, it is a known fact that she was loyal to Fitzgerald because of how much she respected and trusted him.

Both Nick and Louisa were intelligent, witty people with generally nice, honest, and reserved dispositions. Their self-contained demeanours make it very easy to get along with the more exurbent/dominant personas of Gatsby and Fitzgerald. So in the event where each pair was isolated from the rest of the world, they had each other to depend on.

Next morning I sent the butler to New York with a letter to Wolfsheim, which asked for information and urged him to come out on the next train. That request seemed superfluous when I wrote it. I was sure he’d start when he saw the newspapers, just as I was sure a there’d be a wire from Daisy before noon – but neither a wire nor Mr. Wolfsheim arrived; no one arrived except more police and photographers and newspaper men. When the butler brought back Wolfsheim’s answer I began to have a feeling of defiance, of scornful solidarity between Gatsby and me against them all.

Such a dynamic created a close bond of trust. Just as Nick was not hesitant to stick by Gatsby's side, Louisa went to great extents just to return Fitzgerald back to his former leading position and work together with him.

Side note: Nick Carraway is suggested to have the INTP personality type, while Louisa is most likely an INFP. Both these personalities are strikingly similar in many ways. They are individualistic in thinking and described as 'seekers' of their place in the world. If you're interested in a more detailed comparison, check this post out

Alright, that's about it for my speculations; I hope they weren't too messy. Thank you so much for reading!

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

- Nick Carraway, The Great Gatsby

[vampiresuns]

Look After Your Dead, Part 2 | Prologue, Part 4

✴︎ LOOK AFTER YOUR DEAD, PART 2 ✴︎

4.9k words. In which Anatole’s past catches up to him. CWs: Discussions of memory loss and amnesia, feelings of depression and inadequacy. There’s also a lot of talks of displacement, land and family. The writer gets a little too close to existentialism.

This piece introduces some of my ocs for the first time in an official rewrite: say hello to Leonore Kaur, the dastardly counsellor with a penchant for drama, Octavia Rei, the coffee wench by day and playwright by night, roommate of Milenko, and Sabine Rei, her younger sibling, all friends of Anatole.

Featured Radošević-Cassano: Valerius, Milenko, Vlad and Louisa (mentioned).

Other Lore: The ‘Antiqullan’ range is the furthest west end of the Bulan Mountains, were the country of Altazor, featured in Secrets of An Ancient Moon, is located. Louisa is Altazoreña, making Anatole a first generation Altazoreño.

With this piece we reach the last instalment of Anatole’s prologue, however, there’s one more step before the Routes begin: All characters featured here will come back in an interlude.

What to catch up with this series? You can do that here.

Some people couldn’t help being anything but themselves. It did not mean they were rigid, immutable or incapable of change or growth. No person was that way, and those who refused the inherent mutability of life were bound to break. Instead, these people had who they are, whatever they are, as their guiding horizon — a certainty, a principle they could not betray, a truth they couldn’t deny. When their true self called, they had no choice but to answer. Who they are meant to become is bound to unravel, and once it begins manifesting, these people cannot run from it. 

The self can only be repressed for so long. It’s latency is temporary, and these kinds of people understand that. They cannot wear masks, they cannot be anyone other than themselves, whether it was for better or for worse, and their past was bound to catch up to them sooner or later. Anatole was such a person.

It didn’t matter he didn’t remember who he was, because it all existed within him and no matter how much he ran from it, no matter how much circumstance prevented it, his potential would meet him sooner or later. Unknown to him yet, that time was drawing to a close.

Julian had broken into his shop again, which Anatole did not find as surprising as he could’ve. Portia treating him too comfortably, with Nevivic names, was. The way they both pronounced things lingered behind them as Portia dragged him to a nearby alley. Alone in front of his front door, Anatole realised they both pronounced his name ‘Anatoliy’.

Like his father had done the day Anatole had told him that was his name now. 

A father. Had he had a father? Where was he now? In a faraway land or dead by Plague like so many in the City? He felt a ripple of his own magic bubbling inside him, he could feel the warmth of it lace with his fingers. Faint and weak, like a newborn opening their eyes, something told him he had a father. If he concentrated enough he could feel a magical tether pulling him to somewhere. With a frightened heart, he realised this wasn’t the first time in the last three years when he had felt such a tether, but this was the first time the headache wasn’t stronger than the magic. 

Noon chimed over the City and Anatole, realising he had forgotten the Masquerade announcement, had to let it go. 

In the Heart District, a man called Vladislav Elyseo Radošević would grab the arm of his wife, a woman called Louisa Aureliana De Silva, and with tears in his eyes he’d tell her he could swear he had just seen their son standing right in front of him. Somehow. 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The announcement was a lot. Nothing bad happened during it, but Anatole couldn’t shake the feeling he had been there before, in a past he couldn’t remember. This time, he did flirt with a headache when he tried. Whatever magical thread that pulled to him before had seemed to grow into a tree, and the many languages and words of the people in the square hit him all at once.

As soon as he could, he retreated into an emptier corner by the cooler shadows of the marble pillars around the square. A tall person covered with a cloak, their scent myrrh-heavy was also around the corner. They seemed to want to avoid people at all costs, so Anatole gave them berth: sometimes you just wanted to be left alone to your own devices.

Away from the flock of people he began realising how much he had pushed away on the last days, because he had not had a moment to himself. 

With every breath the scent of Myrrh reached his nose. Recognition hit him all at once. He turned his head to the stranger. 

“You were guarding my shop the other morning.”

“I tried to warn you.”

When Anatole spoke again, the stranger turned. He followed them all the way into the market, but when he lost them, he began looking around him, not sure how he ended up in the market at all. Distracted, he collided into a cart as he turned around himself. Someone offered him a hand to stand up — a man with thick black hair that reached his shoulders, pulled away from his face in a half-bun, sparkling dark brown eyes and an easiness to his voice when he spoke, as if the entire world was his friend. 

“Whoa, my guy, you took a pretty nasty fall, are you—” 

The man went completely silent, his mouth hanging half open as Anatole stood before him awkwardly. He cleared his throat.

“I know you just helped me stand up, but are you alright?”

“I’m, I’m, sorry I must be seeing things because you look just like—”

Somewhere behind him, a willowy person with fair skin and purple eyes, short hair accompanied by someone who looked a lot like them but with long, curly hair walked towards the man.

“Hey, Leonore, what happened?” The one with curly hair asked, while the willowy one looked at Anatole and dropped everything they were holding. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Anatole?”

The man who helped him stand, Leonore, shook himself. “It’s okay, Sabine, my guy here just fell, and I’m sure this is a very whacky coincidence since Anatole is d—”

“But my name is Anatole,” he said. Everyone looked at each other in silence. Anatole didn’t know what was happening, all he knew is that these people knew him, he knew nothing of them. He felt one of Asra’s cards tug at him in his pocket. 

“Excuse me, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are and I, I— I have to go.” Before anyone could stop him, Anatole sprinted back to the Main Square.

The first time he felt that pull of recognition, that thread to be followed had been with his own name after he woke up from his ‘accident’. He had tried to ask Asra about it, but he couldn’t remember a time where the magician even tried to address the question. Anatole had asked him about that too, and satisfied with the truth in Asra’s words that it wasn’t about Anatole himself why he couldn’t tell him, he stopped asking. Whatever answer would either never come to him, or he would have to get it himself.

The second time was with Asra himself:  he knew nothing of why or how Asra had become someone important to him, but he knew his was a well-loved face. 

Then it was his aunt, Antupillán, until it was one little thing on top of each other forming a figure which stood in the fog, slipping through Anatole’s fingers every time. His headaches always made him recede, go back to the safety of a cool room with little light coming in. Now, he felt himself in the middle of the fog as Leonore’s face materialised in the same way the magical imprint that he had felt before the announcement, unknowingly connecting him to his parents, almost did earlier that day. 

Anatole was a single boat in the fog, the sound of water around him as the oars moved him towards the direction of that figure standing in it. Like the people of a forgotten town in the Antiqullan forests who themselves had forgotten the name of everything around them, until they became completely still. Anatole rowed forward as names fell back in place and life compelled him to begin again. 

“So you’re Aelius? I’m Leonore Kaur! Medea is also Vesuvian so I could show you two around if you wanna. You don’t mind if I call you my guy, do you, my guy?”

“No, not at all, Leonore Kaur. Though ‘Anatole’ also works, you needn’t just call me by my first name.”

“Leo is fine.”

“No, no, I will use your full name, always, at all times.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

During one of Asra’s travels, Anatole had seen a doctor behind the magician’s back about his memory. The visit was mostly unsatisfactory, except by some referrals and some exercises for when he felt he could almost remember things, but then couldn’t, and the other many moods of the standard amnesiac. Not that the Doctor had called it that, but Anatole had to make a little light-hearted fun at his own condition. It was like his attention and hyperactivity issues. He was going to coexist with it either way, so he better barter with them like old friends. At least on the days they weren’t awfully frustrating.

Hearing Portia describe the Court for him was nothing like that. He shuffled Asra’s deck as he listened, pulling the same cards in rotation: The Lovers, The Hermit, The Tower upright, The Fool, the Queen of Wands, and then Death reversed, Justice reversed, The Tower but reversed this time, Temperance reversed, the Hierophant and the Six of Cups reversed. Over and over again, no matter how many times he shuffled them. 

He couldn’t have explained anything that Portia was telling him now —all the different Court departments and how they were interconnected, who did what and all the gossip she could fit during their ride back to the Palace— but the moment he said it, he knew it, somehow. He shuffled again. The Lovers, The Hermit, The Tower, The Fool, the Queen of Wands, Death, Justice The Tower and Temperance all reversed. The Hierophant seemed undecided in his position, sometimes becoming horizontal without Anatole touching it. 

A card without meaning. A card undecided as Portia mentioned how the Consul’s real name was Valeriy, but everyone called him Valerius like it should be pronounced in the Vesuvian common tongue.

“I had no idea until I saw it on a record! ‘Valeriy of the Cassano of Vesuvia’. With how he acts you’d barely know he is a Cassano, right?”

Portia continued to talk as Anatole shuffled again, determined to do a reading for himself. To what end? He couldn’t say. He just hoped he didn’t pull the same cards as he had been pulling for most of the ride. Portia went on, saying how Consul Valerius was the most important, which didn’t mean he could not pay attention to the others. Anatole did not need Portia to tell him the Consul was the second most important political figure in Vesuvia. 

He shuffled the deck the last time, then cut it. “If the Countess is incapacitated, the Consul rules in absentia, right?”

“That is correct! Wow, I didn’t think I was such a good teacher,” Portia said with a delighted laugh. Anatole smiled softly, as he pulled three cards.

The Hermit, reversed. He had lost his way. But why? When? The Ace of Swords. Maybe he’ll find his answers, maybe he is finding them. Anatole frowned at the cards, he hasn’t found shit. Or perhaps he wasn’t seeing clearly yet. As the carriage came to a halt, he pulled Strength, upright. Only it wasn’t from Asra’s deck, but from his own deck, the one which had belonged to his aunt. In it, a figure cradled a City against their chest, like a nurturing sort of Atlas, as light came from behind them mimicking a golden halo. Strength was focused, unwavering, wise, compassionate. 

How the hell had this card gotten mixed with Asra’s? That was a question for later. 

Had Anatole pulled one more card, he would’ve pulled the Hierophant again. 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The Countess looked at ease, wonderful in the afternoon light as she played the pipe organ. This would be fine, he thought, as Portia introduced him to the weirdest goddamn people he’s ever seen. If you could call them people — Volta, Vlastomill, Vulgora and Valdemar all looked and felt too off. Somehow the too open eyes, the moist skin, the despairing pulls or the sharp teeth weren’t the worst part: it was how their words made Anatole feel.

They triggered his magic, making his stomach drop. Not only were they lying, there was a threat in their words too. Magic that felt like a sharp note reverberating on every wall, on every new word they uttered. 

The only one who still felt human enough was Consul Valerius. 

Anatole had never seen a ghost, but he had read some accounts of necromancers and animancers about the sensory experience of encountering certain presences. It depended on the inclination of the magician, the story with the presence and why some of them may or may not feel like something meant to be encountered. Fate as something one could take or leave, as events which happened regardless of whether one wanted them to happen or not — ghosts where like the truth, Anatole remembered reading from one of them, not up to accommodate one’s expectations. 

Seeing someone who made the same facial expression you did out of shock had to be like seeing a ghost. There was always something terrifyingly vulnerable about recognising oneself in others. Unlike the other moments of recognition Anatole had had through the day, this time, something screamed inside of him, making his head throb. From between the Consul’s feet, Antu scurried towards Anatole.

Antupillán, who followed Anatole like a guide and a support animal. Antupillán, who did not let people who did not know him be near him at all. Yes, he was a friendly and curious Raccoon who engaged with the world around him, not always heeling by Anatole but always close enough. But there was a difference with engagement and sitting by someone who made Anatole’s head throb when he spoke.

He better have an explanation. 

It only got worse. Portia introduced them, but the room had fallen still, the tension palpable as the rest of the Courtiers watched the scene with morbid interest, except for Volta who just looked anguished as she muttered this was all very wrong. Quaestor Valdemar was staring unblinkingly at Consul Valerius, asking him ever so casually if there was anything that was the matter. The Countess looked between them in confusion, and tried to pry anything out of the Consul but he was not speaking. He just stared at Anatole in abject horror.

And was that panic in his voice when he spoke? Very faint, under the viciousness of his words as he demanded an explanation for the presence of such an offensive display? He was motioning at Anatole, rage and fear intertwined as he asked the Countess what sort of sick joke was this. 

The Countess could not explain with anything else than how she had encountered Anatole, as she looked and sounded at loss. 

Once again, his new found automatic pilot habit kicked into place. What he meant to do, was ask the Consul what was so offensive about him, letting him know he did not appreciate the tone or the sentiment from someone he did not know, so if he could please speak clearly. 

What he did instead, though Antu tried to stop him, sounding apologetic and concerned —Why on earth? Anatole half thought in the background of his mind— was walking forward, with a lost and open expression to him, as he screamed at himself to stop. He couldn’t stop. 

Like he was staring at himself from a distance, as if his own ghost was possessing his body. “Valeriy—” 

But the Consul threw him the contents of his glass of wine. “Don’t you dare call me that, you witch.”

The Countess made everyone leave. She dismissed the entire Court without a second thought. The moment they were alone again, Anatole broke down into tears he couldn’t explain. Although the Countess was surprised at first, standing there awkwardly for a moment, she approached Anatole with gentleness, rubbing his back. 

He wasn’t crying about the Consul, not really. He was crying about his fucking headache, and the powerlessness he felt. He knew he oughtn’t push himself into remembering, but he felt it would be all much easier if he did. Recovery was not a smoothly paved road, Anatole knew this, but right then, it was hard to accept. 

“What the hell were you doing with him?” He asked Antupillán, angry and confused. 

The Raccoon didn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry, are you acquainted with Valerius?”

Anatole couldn’t answer that beyond an: “I don’t know.” He didn’t have any explanations, not even to himself. All he had was these unshakable certainties which were starting to materialise, without any mercy for his growing migraine. But he could not speak them yet, he could barely understand them. 

He apologised again. The Countess told him it was no trouble. Her words did not have judgement, just honest, tender concern. 

He felt Antu’s paws slide into his hands.

I must protect my Anatole, like my Anatole has protected me, he said.

Anatole sighed, wiping his tears away with the corner of his sleeve. A corner that wasn’t wine-drenched. “You better have a good reason not to tell me, Antupillán.” 

He grabbed his familiar, plopping him onto his lap. Antu continued to hold his hand. 

“I really am sorry, Countess.”

The Countess looked at him with fondness. “From what I’ve known of you, I think there is little which could make me change my regard for you, Anatole.”

She paused, looking like there was something else she wanted to say. “Why don’t we start by fixing your clothes? Such pettiness in a single Court. Whichever was your connection to the Consul, I am sorry it went sour, but I’m not surprised… he is an acquired taste. I have already taken the liberty with your wardrobe, so please, tell me what would you like and spare no expense.”

“You don’t need to. I really can spell the stains away… though I’d still need a shower.”

“Let me, as your host.”

“How about a compromise?”

“Do tell.”

“Using my own wardrobe as a canvas, we take items from it to replace them. They might not be courtly, but I have always been fussy about clothes. I think it matters what one wears.”

The Countess laughed. “I knew I was right in making you my friend.”

“On one condition.”

“Estate it.”

“You’ll let me pay you back.”

“Humble as ever. Very well, our side project will have to wait, as Portia will escort you to your chambers. Your own garments will be returned, but I think you must allow me to choose an outfit for you. I have the perfect one in mind… I do hope you change your mind about paying me back, you are my guest of honour. You could be more selfish, if you like.”

He smiled at her but did not say anything. Antu jumped out from Anatole’s arms as he stood up to spell-clean his clothes. The Palace staff who did the laundry did not deserve to work extra because of some Courtier’s tantrum. Placing his hands over his chest, he took a deep breath, moving his hands away from him slowly as he did.  In front of his and the Countess’ eyes, the wine left his clothes, floating in the air like blobs Anatole gently deposited in the glass. 

When he took all the stains out, he took a drink from it.

“Can I ask you something else? Do you know what wine this is, beyond well, red?”

“I could have it checked. It’s not from the Palace’s own cellar, I’m afraid the Consul brings his own from his own private cellar in the Palazzo Cassano. That is his family’s seat. From what I understand, the Cassano have been in hold of the Consulship for almost 500 years.” 

Now that he heard the name again, Cassano, he felt like someone had hammered a silver plate which set a mechanism in motion. The words had the same feeling around them as the word ‘Balkovia’ did — home, holding hands with ‘unattainable’. Could it be that he was wrong? That home wasn’t unattainable because the gaping void of missing memories inside him meant he couldn’t reach it, but rather, than he hadn’t remembered yet?

There was only one way to know. He’d face the Consul again. He would as soon as he could.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

There had been a jewel with his change of clothes. An emerald necklace that had traces of Asra’s magic. Traces so strong Anatole could almost pull his friend back to him. He wanted to follow its guiding pull, but it wasn’t a good idea to do it when everyone was roaming around in the Palace still. He waited, and when the halls went quiet he stole out of his room, following Asra’s magic imbued in the necklace until a fountain in the gardens.

He let it drop into the water, watching it fall as the light caught on the faces of the gem, amplified as if the water itself was glimmering. He ran his palm over the water. The magic felt like his own until it stopped: the liquid now a mirror, showing Asra at the other end. 

When Asra noticed him he looked surprised, full of pride and relieved to see him. His laughter was like music, like the sitars of street musicians from other corners of the world. His praise felt warm to Anatole, Asra’s eagerness always did, even when the magician felt like he had said too much —like right now, by calling Anatole a man of light, and a man of words. 

His eagerness to see his friend won over his apprehension. Or perhaps, seeing his friend like he once remembered him, with his Prussian blue shirt with cream white bishop sleeves and ochre yellow pants. “Was it Rumi who said silence is the language of God and everything else is poor translation? Well, you might be the one exception to the rule.”

“If I did this, I did it in silence.”

“Light speaks through you, Nana Banana—”

“Do not call me that.”

“—It always has.”

Anatole wouldn’t have been able to anticipate the turns their conversation would have. It was heavy, filled with the request of honesty, and talk of the things Anatole had gone through. They talked about Nadia, once she had been Asra’s friends, even if he know claimed they were strangers. Anatole asked about justice, and if he could trust her that way. 

“I want to but—”

“But you have a duty to Vesuvians?” Asra said, less heavy than when he was talking about Nadia. Instead, he sounded resigned, like he was starting to let go of a fight he fought out of habit, not because he should or because he’d win it. 

“Asra the City needs justice, but not that justice.”

“I somehow knew you’d say that. You can take the boy out of politics, but not politics out of the boy.”

Anatole blinked. “Was I like this before? You promised to be honest.”

“I did,” the magician sighed. “You were. You were a beacon of hope in a hopeless situation.”

“Well, I most certainly have not been feeling like a beacon lately— I feel, misplaced. Like I know and I don’t know at the same time, like—” Anatole told him everything he had omitted before. Him speaking like he was on automatic pilot, like he could see himself from afar only both the speaker and the spectator were him. He was honest about pulls of magic he had felt through the years but never followed, afraid he’d get lost. He told Asra about the Consul, about so many things he had spoken to the Countess like he knew things he had no way of knowing. Not to that level of depth.

He told him he felt like he had been dead before and now he was being born again, only he didn’t know what kind of living he was supposed to be, while somehow walking with more hope and purpose than he’d suspect himself having. 

He only noticed his eyes welling up with tears when Asra got blurry. “I want to find out myself, but I need to ask: I was not born here was I?”

Asra’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “No. No, you were not… is there something else on your mind? I didn’t think this was the turn the conversation would have.”

“Neither did I…” Anatole dried his tears again. “I’m so fucking tired of crying in front of people.”

“Yeah, you’ve always hated that.”

“Did I know the Consul.”

“Oh, Nana I really can’t answer that. I know I promised—”

Antole took in a sharp breath. “Then answer me this: I was never your apprentice before, was I?”

“Nana, I can’t—”

“Answer the damn question. You promised.”

“No, no you were not. You approached magic differently than I did, but you sometimes made mine look like a joke.”

“Don’t depreciate yourself to compliment me, that’s not how it works. If I can’t do it, then neither can you.”

Asra raised is hands in surrender. “It was, and is still very impressive.”

“Alright, I have one more question. You told me I had an aunt right? Paris, Paris De Silva… Asra did I have parents? Asra I need to know this.”

Asra was quiet for so long, Anatole thought he wasn’t going to reply at all, but before he could get angry Asra steeled himself and spoke again, looking directly into Anatole’s eyes. “You’ll tell me to stop the moment you get a headache, alright?” Anatole agreed. “You did, Nana. You do—”

Anatole heard footsteps and ruffling leaves behind him and turned away from Asra. “There’s someone. I’ll find you again. I love you.”

Without thinking, Anatole drew his hand over the water, making a closing motion and Asra dissipated before he could say anything else. He stood from his spot at the same time a voice he didn’t recognise asked him if he had, perchance, found a self-refilling quill around the fountain. 

“I’m so sorry to disturb you, it is that I finally broke from a very long writer’s block and funnily enough I lost my quill— Anatole?”

As the stranger said his name, Anatole felt one of the heaviest waves of sadness and grief he had ever felt from someone. The man standing before him was dressed head to toe in black, his chesnut curls moving very lightly with the breeze. He snapped out of his shock with a panicked look in his eyes, walking past Anatole fast enough that he could break into a jog as he muttered to himself, frenzied and confused, that this couldn’t be happening again. Anatole tried to help him, but the stranger jumped back as his eyes swelled with tears. 

The man broke into a run, leaving Anatole alone and confused with no other option than going back to his room. 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Once he was alone in his room once again, he cried. He cried until he couldn’t breathe. There was a gaping hollowness inside of him. Something locked away for reasons beyond his comprehension. He stared at his shaking hands, flexing his fingers, trying to anchor himself with the moment. What had happened to him? What had happened to him that he saw people he couldn’t know in his dreams, and friends in the faces of stranges? What had happened to him that one day he had nothing but a mismatched language, latching on his tongue as he asked Asra —who was unable to understand him— a thousand and one questions the magician could not answer. So many questions he could choke on them.

To speak, to exist in language is to exist, and what was he if he could not be spoken? If the faces his hearts conjured for him turned him in horror? If strangers like the man in the fountain walked away from him like he was some unspeakable thing walking on this earth? 

If he laid on the floor and closed his eyes, he could feel the earth calling him, but not how it called the dead. If he focused enough on desintegrating into the earth, he could feel his veins open up and flourish until it carried him back to a city he has never been in before and even further than. It carried it to forests where lakes within lakes lied, and it carried him through the desert into flowers which bloomed despite its dryness. Like a stream turning into a river running to the sea, he was born in the high of the mountains, and the city of the wells surrounded by forests and marshes. 

One thing he knew: Something had happened in Vesuvia. Something had happened to him, in Vesuvia. Something that made part of the flourishing blood of his open veins pull in the middle of the City, layers and layers down into the Earth like a beating heart underneath the floorboards, foreshadowing an encounter which was meant to happen. Anatole could only rise up to meet it.

Even if right now he felt lost and broken he would. His name was the name of the sun, and the sun always rises. He would be spoken, and he would find what happened to him and this City which had cradled him into existing. His blood flowed here for a reason, and he would find out that reason.

Some people can’t help to be anything but themselves. They will do anything in their power to speak that self into existence, even if they spent the rest of their lives on it. When he stood up from the floor to wash his face and go to sleep, he knew he’d find the truth about what happened that night in the Masquerade. He knew because he knew the secret of his own self was intertwined with it, in the same way he did not need Asra’s confirmation to know he had to have known the Consul.

Perhaps he was the figure in the fog, and it was time to reach it to light long forgotten lanterns.

[writingfromkitchenator]

A Starlit Moon

Hi everyone!  Welcome to my rewrite of Accidents (full story found under The Hobbit - Thorin in my Masterlist) from back in 2016/2017.  This will be a much longer version than the original with a fair few changes and hopefully be a lot more developed.  This is the version I’ve always wanted to write as I just fell in love with writing Louisa, so every Monday a new chapter will be posted.  I hope you can all enjoy!

Masterlist

Thorin Oakenshield x Original Female Character

Series Warnings: Typical violence, magic, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slow-ish burn?, insecurities, major character death, possible smut (at this stage I am undecided, will update when I get to that point)

Chapter 1

Words: 1,800

There was a tug in the back of her mind, her heart calling her somewhere far away.  It was urgent, it feeling like there was little time left, so blindly, she followed it, allowing herself to give into the call, a feeling so strange but so familiar.  Somehow, she knew that she’d been through this before, maybe even multiple times, but this was the most important.  A dire time was approaching.

There was warmth, fire?  Something peaceful.  The tug began to fade and she knew that this was it, knew that something was going to begin, and slowly, as the memories faded away, she became aware of her new surroundings.

This warmth was different, new, it kissed her skin softly, and there was a soft flicker of light against the black in her eyes.  She draws in a deep breath, mildewed grass and old, ancient trees, flooding her senses.  The grass beneath her is soft, blowing in the slight breeze, tickling at exposed skin.  The breeze was cool, just enough to keep the sun from being too hot.

Slowly, warm brown eyes open, blinking up to the canopy above, golden rays of light dancing across her face.  It was safe here.

A new noise gets her attention and she turns her head, seeing a doe standing there, eating away calmly at the grass, watching her.  The doe slowly stepped closer, sniffing the ground, until it was nudging her side.

Reaching up, she pats the doe gently, a soft smile coming to her lips, feeling calm and at peace.  There was no threat around her, although she still knew that things weren’t all that they seemed.

The doe moves away and she finally takes a moment to sit up, mouse brown hair falling in loose ringlets around her face.  For a moment, she looks at herself, clothed in an almost white shirt and pants, her feet bare, and just as she goes to tug at a black cord on her neck, the doe makes a small noise.

Her smile returned.  “Aren’t you a brave one?”

A soft snort and the does head drops for a moment before it turned and started to walk away, glancing back at her.

She took the hint, getting to her feet and following after the doe through the trees, not sure where she was being led to, but knowing that this doe wants to help.  It was one of the good creatures of the world.

A road opened up before her in a break in the trees and she stopped, looking both ways, the doe quickly dashing off into the underbrush on the other side.  Its task was done.

Alone, she isn’t overly sure which way she should be going, and for a moment, a cloud passed over the sun, sending a chill into the air, making her give an involuntary shiver.  Whatever was brewing here, whatever task was before her, it was going to be nothing good.

Singing travelled down the road toward her, the sun creeping back out as she watched the figure approach.  It was almost like it was guiding him and she couldn’t help but tilt her head a little.  He was an older man, a heavy grey cloak set upon his shoulders, an even greyer beard and hair, a staff in one hand and one very pointed hat.

He stopped before her, curious blue eyes sparkling at her from beneath bushy eyebrows, and she knew at once he was more powerful than he made himself seem.

“Well, this is certainly a more interesting day than I was expecting,” he gave a little chuckle, ringing of nothing but friendliness.  “And who might you be?”

The question surprised her, having not thought on it.  In fact, now that she did think on it, she didn’t remember much at all, of how she got here and what she was.

But a name, a name she could do.

“Louisa,” she said finally.  “My name is Louisa.”

He seemed to think on this, nodding.  “It is nice to meet you Louisa.  I am Gandalf the Grey, and it appeared that I am to be your guide in our world.”

“Guide?”  Louisa frowned, not quiet understanding, but then, little made sense at the moment, all she knew was that she was not in any danger with Gandalf.

“Indeed.”  He brought out his satchel and dug around in it for a moment.  “Here, night will be coming soon and it is best not to be caught unawares.”

Gandalf handed her a cloak, one much too long for her, something she only realised once she put it on.

He chuckled.  “It will need some work, but not to worry, we are close to a town that will cater for you.  We can get you rested and sorted out there.”

Louisa frowned slightly at this, unsure, a small trickle of fear creeping into her stomach.

Smiling, Gandalf started to walk.  “You have nothing to worry about Louisa, I will help you adjust to all this, and jump in if needed.  It will just take some time, and if I’m not mistaken, you have plenty of it.”

“I don’t know,” she said quietly, following him, tucking some of the cloak into the waist of her pants so as not to trip.  “The pull felt urgent.”

“You remember?”

“A little.”  She said, looking up to the road ahead.  “I certainly do not know what the pull was for, or what I am, but…I know enough to get by.”

Gandalf watched her thoughtfully.  “Well, more may come back to you as you go.  From my understanding, it is normal for your people to operate that way.  For now, we’ll focus on getting you some more appropriate travel clothes, then we’ll focus on your magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yes,” Gandalf smiled.  “But we’ll worry about that when we get to it.”

Louisa knew that he wanted time to think then, so they continued along the road in silence, and she took her time to get used to her new surroundings.

Dusk began to settle as they reached the outskirts of Bree.  Gandalf hurried her along and quickly led her to a small little shop in the centre of town, talking away cheerfully to the shop owner as Louisa sat on a chair, swinging her legs, taking in the rather homely appearance.

It was as she sat and waited that she remember the black cord around her neck.  She tugged it, curious, and a pendant came out from under her shirt.  Shining silver and very detailed, she stared at it for a long time.

It was almost square in appearance, made up of crossed lines and a diamond shape in the middle.  There were detailed etchings in it giving the silver a real life of its own in the light, but what really drew her attention was the small gem in the middle.

She didn’t know what it was, but it seemed to shine brightly with many colours, reminding her of the stars above, and she moved it slightly, catching it in more light.  There was no denying that it was beautiful, her thumb brushing over it gently, as if it was long committed to memory, although she couldn’t remember where it came from or how she got it.

Gandalf returned, pausing when he took in the necklace tied around her throat.  After a moment, he approached and gently closed her hand over it.  “I suggest keeping that hidden for the moment, my dear.  Unusual things like this can cause unwanted attention, something you do not need right now.”

He didn’t elaborate further as she looked at him, feeling, more than understanding the meaning behind his words.  She nodded and tucked it back beneath her shirt.

The dressmaker took her in and started to help Louisa with some more comfortable and appropriate clothing, including some shoes, although she thankfully didn’t ask why Louisa didn’t have any.  Greys, greens, creams and browns fluttered by her eyes, and it didn’t feel like long before she was better dressed and comfortable, not letting the smile drop from her lips.  She wasn’t sure why, but this small step allowed her to feel like she truly belonged here.

Gandalf also insisted upon a coat, but the dressmaker said that it would have to wait until morning, as she would have to make it from scratch and not from the one Gandalf had as a spare.

Louisa eyed the town of Bree as they left the shop, it feeling oddly different at night, the emotions in the air having changed.  She didn’t have too long to ponder it though, Gandalf leading her to the local inn, a new half-filled pack on her shoulders.

Inside, something twisted in her stomach and she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, the mood in here even odder compared to what she had felt outside.  She frowned a little as she looked around the room, it slowly dawning on her that it was pain that she could feel, and most of the patrons in here had some sort weighing heavily on their shoulders, hence the drinking.

But there was one that was standing out to her, a pain that seemed to tug at the back of her mind and draw her in.

Her eyes fell onto a lone dwarf sitting at a table in front of the fire.  Long dark hair covered his broad shoulders that had clearly seen too many battles.  He was travel worn and his armour was in need of some repair, something that was bothering him, but currently not a priority.  His hot meal was welcomed in front of him, but he was still on guard, his sword close by within easy reach, and his eyes searched the dark corners of the room warily before he made any movement towards his food.

Louisa knew that there was some sort of importance to him, but as his eyes began to raise, feeling her gaze on him, Gandalf blocked the way.

“Our room is the first one on the left up the stairs,” He said with a smile, handing her his hat and staff.  “Why don’t you head up and get comfortable and I’ll get us something to eat?”

She was a little annoyed, but agreed, not wanting to offend Gandalf.  This was all new to her, so what she was sensing, stronger or not from the lone dwarf, she had little idea of what she could do to help.

Louisa reached the stairs and took a final glance back, unsure as the feeling grew a little stronger, but Gandalf was still there and hurried her along.  She sighed and goes, but the thought about the dwarf remained in the back of her mind for some time.

There was something about him that she could not place.

[chilling-seavey]

The perfect Amoureux Christmas day!! Post reunion with their little Prince ~T

I couldn’t figure out how to end this for way too long but I think I finally got it how I wanted it! 

I also realized that the Christmas Tree wasn’t introduced to British culture until 1840 by real life Prince Albert but I guess this will just be another twist of history in this separate universe!

December 25, 1822

At fourteen-months-old, Henry, Prince of York, was already starting to show signs of his father’s cheeky personality. This was only apparent at his young age through his sudden awareness of how to sneak out of his crib, meaning the guards at Kensington Palace were suddenly attuned to a toddler dressed in white nightclothes rushing past them down the hallway.

Jack and Zach, who had been doing their usual early morning rounds of the palace, exchanged wide-eyed glances as the tiny prince went wobbling right past them.

“Your Royal Highness!” Jack called quietly first, rushing after the small boy, Zach right behind him. It didn’t take much effort to catch up to the toddler and Jack picked him up by his armpits, making the small boy giggle. “You must stay in your bedchamber, sir.”

“I will return him.” Zach offered, scooping up the tiny toddler in his arms. Henry only shrieked with laughter, the sound echoing down the hallway and nudging Louisa awake.

Her shifting had Daniel waking beside her and he pulled her close under the soft sheets to press a kiss to her head. Louisa smiled sleepily and cuddled into him some more, neither aware of their son’s escape from the room beside theirs until there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Daniel answered through a yawn, not even opening his eyes.

The door opened and Zach came in with their son, offering them a quick bow, “Your Royal Highnesses, good morning. Nothing to be alarmed about but Prince Henry seems to have escaped his bedchamber.”

“Oh my.” Louisa sat up quickly and held her arms out. “Bring him here please, Zach, thank you.”

Zach rushed over and set the giggling toddler on the bed before heading for the door to leave them be.

“Happy Christmas, Zach.” Louisa called after him.

He turned back to her with a bashful smile and bowed once more before leaving, “Happy Christmas, Miss.”

Louisa looked down at her son and his cheesy grin as he fell backwards onto the fluffy mattress, tangled up in his nightclothes, “Oh, Henry Alexander, what are we going to do with you, my sweet boy? Escaping on Christmas morning, hm?”

Henry only laughed as she leaned down to pepper kisses over his chubby cheeks and her fingers tickled his sides.

Daniel reached down to grab onto his son’s leg and tugged him farther up the bed to pull him into a tight embrace, the little boy smiling into his father’s chest for only a moment before trying to wiggle back out.

“Do you want your presents, mon coeur?” Louisa pet her hand over her son’s thin brown hair and leaned down to press a kiss to his head.

“You’ve never had Christmas presents before!” Daniel cooed, watching as Henry wrapped his little hand around his one finger and smiled up at Louisa, tiny dimples pressing into his cheeks and his eyes scrunched closed with glee.

“Is that a yes?” Louisa smiled at her son. Henry only shrieked with excitement, making his young parents grin at him.

Daniel scooted his son closer again so he could lean up just enough to press a kiss to his cheek, “What a handsome little prince.”

“I know.” Louisa gushed, her smile almost permanent on her face as she looked on adoringly at her son and her husband and how Henry patted his little hand against Daniel’s cheek, both of them staring at each other with the same light blue eyes and long lashes.

A butler came in with chipper good mornings and Christmas wishes as he opened their curtains for them and a few more staff came to help them get dressed and ready for the day’s festivities. One of the palace nannies came to take Henry to get dressed but Louisa insisted on doing it herself – much to the surprise of the staff. She had raised him nearly a year without help from any sort of staff and so she refused to go back on that once they returned to England. The staff at Highgrove knew their routines well but at Kensington, where they were staying for the holidays, some reminders needed to be said.

So Henry was sat on the bed after it was freshened up by one of the maids, kept busy with a toy, while Louisa and Daniel were helped into their Christmas clothes and had their hair tidied. Once they were ready, Louisa changed the baby and got him dressed herself into his own little Christmas outfit, and soon they were headed downstairs together, Henry perched on Daniel’s hip.

The whole British Royal Family were gathered in the dining room for breakfast and they ate together over a plentiful spread and good conversation. Presents were then opened in the sitting room in front of the large tree that was lit with candles and decorated in expensive ornaments and Henry plopped himself right down in front of it to reach from one of the wrapped gifts with little hands.

It was only proper to, in company of the King and Queen, to follow the strict rules that came with being a member of the Royal Family, but Louisa and Daniel instead got right down on the floor with their son. Christian and Anna eyed their brother and then their father, as if waiting for someone to call him out on his improper behaviour but the King only silently waved away the action in light of his grandson’s first real Christmas. So Anna eagerly dropped to the ground and Christian grabbed Cora’s hand and pulled her to the ground as well, joining their littlest family member by the Christmas tree as he opened up his first gift.

His little shriek with glee had Louisa grinning, petting her hand over his head as he hugged the soft doll to his chest. Henry turned to his other side where Christian and Cora were and held out his new toy to his uncle with his same dimpled grin.

“How lovely!” Christian cooed to his nephew, “What a lucky boy you are.”

“It’s so cute!” Anna squealed, taking the doll from the toddler to look at.

Daniel set his arm around Louisa’s back, being cautious not to accidently rip her gown that was billowing around her and across the wooden floors. She only shuffled closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder as they watched their little one get to his feet – using Christian’s leg as a crutch – and then wobbled back over to the tree, now distracted by the sparkly things that covered the branches and he reached for one with a gentle hand.

“Careful, now.” Daniel warned, gently pulling his son back from the tree.

“Pretty.” Henry whispered, trying to wiggle out of his father’s grasp and get back to the decorations.

“Yes, very pretty.”

“Oui.” Henry breathed.

“Oh, oui! My sweet French prince!” Louisa gasped through a grin, squishing her son’s cheeks to give him plentiful kisses from his spot on Daniel’s lap. Henry giggled loudly, trying to push his mother’s face away from him.

The gift giving continued, the King and Queen each opening a few from each other and from their three children. When Anna was opening her first diamond necklace and everyone was distracted, Daniel linked his finger around the neckline of Louisa’s dress to get her attention. When she looked over at him, he gestured to the table next to her that held a small array of pastries and she passed him his favourite without even needing to be asked. Instead of eating it himself, Daniel held it in front of his son on his lap, the toddler eyeing the chocolate truffle curiously before opening his mouth to be fed the dessert.

Henry’s little face easily moulded into a cheeky grin and his little fingers grabbed onto the edge of Daniel’s sleeve to pull his hand back down to him to take another bite. Louisa and Daniel laughed lightly as their son obviously inherited their shared love of desserts and he smiled up at them with chocolate smeared all over his mouth.

“Oh my.” the Queen laughed as everyone looked over at the little boy. “With all that chocolate he looks just like you when you were a baby, dear Daniel.”

“More.” Henry turned a little on Daniel’s lap to look up at him and he held out a tiny hand out, palm up, “Please, Dada.”

“This one is much better mannered however.” Christian teased.

Daniel shot an unimpressed glare at his brother as Louisa passed over another truffle to feed their grinning son and shared a soft kiss with her husband, resting her head on Daniel’s shoulder as Anna passed the toddler another present from under the tree. They sat with their small son as he opened his second present, chocolate smeared over his lips and his little fingers, his wide dimpled smile only warming up the room that much more as if he could do no wrong. Their perfect little prince; destined for greatness.

[dee4directioner]

BOOK REVIEW

Me Before You Book Review

Book Summary

A Love Story for this generation, Me Before You brings to life two people who couldn't have less in common - a heartbreakingly romantic novel that asks, What do you do when making the person you love happy also means breaking your own heart? They had nothing in common until love gave them everything to lose Louisa Clark is an ordinary girl living an exceedingly ordinary life - steady boyfriend, close family - who has never been farther afield than their tiny village. She takes a badly needed job working for ex-Master of the Universe Will Traynor, who is wheelchair-bound after an accident. Will has always lived a huge life - big deals, extreme sports, worldwide travel - and now he's pretty sure he cannot live the way he is. Will is acerbic, moody, bossy - but Lou refuses to treat him with kid gloves, and soon his happiness means more to her than she expected. When she learns that Will has shocking plans of his own, she sets out to show him that life is still worth living. A Love Story for this generation, Me Before You brings to life two people who couldn't have less in common - a heartbreakingly romantic novel that asks, What do you do when making the person you love happy also means breaking your own heart?

BOOK REVIEW

I love this book. When I started to read this book I can't stop reading. The story was funny, romantic and heartbreaking at the same time. My best friend suggested this book she said it was really nice. So by the time I bought this book to read the movie was released.  But I decided to read this book first then watch the movie. Trust me it was worth it. I finished this book in three days when I was at the end of the story I didn't want the book to end but after some time, I came to know that this book has a sequel (After you).

Back to the story, it was a great novel. I think it is one of the best novel I ever read. Jojo Moyes portrayed a lot of things, a guy who's struggling with a spinal cord injury (Will Traynor) and a girl who is struggling without a job and how she find one and how she fells for a guy who doesn't like her and who always rude to her(Louisa Clark). I feel so connected with all those characters. Moyes also addressed the topic of human nature and how connecting with certain people will make you see life in a beautiful and in a happier way.

I didn't expect the ending to be so sad. I couldn't take the heartbreak so every time I look at the cover of my book ill cry like a baby. it was truly devastating. But it was a beautiful story. It makes you experience all those emotions Louisa experiences in the story. Overall it is a fun ride you can go on without even thinking too much. After reading the story you'll find happiness in all those small things you do in your life. I would like to finish this review in Will Traynor's words...

" Push yourself,  

 Don't settle, 

 Just live well,

 Just live... " 

 Hope you enjoyed my review, Have a great day.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 31: You Can’t Spell Marriage Without Mai

First off, when I got to this episode, I turned to my bro and said “WHAT” and he said “Right? This episode is the best. It’s all down from here” and I was like “YOU SAID THAT TWO EPISODES AGO” so now I know Bro can never be trusted.

If you had told me the plot of this episode before I watched it, I’d say “no, that is Mario Party Fanfiction, and you’ve changed all the names.” That is where this episode went.

Does Mario Party Fanfic exist? Quick Google search, one moment. Dear Lord. OK, I’m back.

Now guys I want you to know that every time a ship comes up in Yugioh, I write like...10k words about it, math equations appearing around my head, as I try to figure out what the freakin hell anyone is even doing and if the writers even know what they’re doing, and I’ll just promptly delete it. I just want you to know the service I do for you. Every time it comes up I start ranting about what the hell an ancient Egyptian would even understand about modern romance and then I stop myself and go “No! Focus!” and I’ll Ctrl-A and I’ll just *delete* and feel a burden lift off my shoulders and into the ceiling like a prayer.

And then this episode happened?

And I’m just like...

...

well I TRIED to spare you.

Please admire how many people they stuffed into Mai’s very small convertible. I half expected them to drive up to Kiki’s Delivery Service.

In case you’ve also forgotten something that happened 40 episodes ago, Mai saved Joey last season by giving him a McGuffin as well as a gross ass handkerchief (which he doesn’t have anymore, the whole 'will they ever return the gross ass handkerchief’ plotline seems to have left the building) and finally, here, halfway through S2 we’re going to actually address why Mai would have any compassion for this bundle of awful kids.

I mean, Joey is still in high school and Mai is like 24 (although some say 44???) so I’m pretty sure they were trying to make it seem platonic or motherly between these two but eh, I don’t even know with this show, man. I mean she and Joey are 8 years apart but Serenity is 4 years Tristan’s junior despite Mokuba being 1 year younger than her and like right there. (Mokuba’s like 12 by the way, something surprising I found out when I did a Google Deep Dive on everyone’s canonical weight a few episodes ago.) And then Pharaoh is like either 5000 or 16-ish depending on who’s asking, so age doesn’t seem to be ever an inhibiting factor in this show.

But as is Yugioh tradition, any space that could possibly be filled with any growth between a boy and a girl--even platonically--must be absolutely derailed by something exploding.

(read more under the cut)

Stepping out from inside of this limousine is a man who wears sunglasses at night, and so at first I thought “oh hell it’s Pegasus’ security, he’s back” But he’s...he’s not. I really, really wish it were.

Joey literally wiped his hand off on the ass of his jeans before trying to shake the hand of this guy he has never mentioned before in his life but swears is his favorite person in the world.

Jean wisely left him hanging.

Joey is SO ready to see a ship in this show actually do something. So ready, that he is willing to accept Mai and this rando we’ve never seen before as canon, despite the fact I’m pretty sure a chunk of last season was trying (rather unsuccessfully) to pair him up with Mai?

It’s not where I expected this episode to go! I really thought we were going to go and play a tourney? We were meeting up with Kaiba at a stadium one block away - he’s just sitting there on his big ass dragon shaped chair and like “omg the moment I walk away they get completely distracted, every single time.”

Anyways, lets get to a flashback where very fancy people in pastel suits were playing cards because apparently cards isn’t just for streetfighting.

I have been wading through 1.5 seasons of these characters doing these elaborate dances around each other to never ever speak a word of commitment or relationship, and I’ve been pretty OK with them doing that. Honestly, the less romance in my Yugioh, the more satisfied I am, but then, after 1.5 seasons of basically nothing but Serenity wearing some bandages and needing a lift from the hospital, suddenly we have this random guy show up and profess marriage, and it is the most whiplash this show has ever given me.

I will accept demonic weird ass devices threatening children, spooky magic, bad history, and all sorts of weird ass outfits but like marraige???? wtf?????

Which is something that Mai seems to know because she turned him right down as you should when a person you’ve never met before decides to marry you based on your ability to coordinate cards in a deck.

Joey honestly thinks being a rich star will automatically make you marriageable material, because I guess Joey completely forgot about Seto Kaiba, a very famous billionaire who is maybe one of the least marriageable people on the planet.

So what gets me about this episode and what makes it so freakin weird is that everyone here accepts this as the rules from this point on.

She MUST be married if Mai enters and then loses this game. Welcome to the Yugioh universe. This is how card people dating works. This is law, she has to accept this proposal if this card game based on chance loses.

Anyways, Yugi’s here to be the voice of reason in a dating episode and that’s something I didn’t expect to write in a sentence.

Yes, his motive was “Mai, this will take too long” not “Mai, you don’t know this guy, and he’s probably crazy” it was “Mai please, I know the world will end when I enter this tourney and so you have nothing to lose and it’s the best time to marry a stranger actually, but can you not? It’s taking SO LONG.”

Duke Devlin in the back still trying helplessly to keep up with what the hell is going on since he wandered on this team by complete accident four episodes ago.

And yes, it’s THIS that makes Joey not like this guy. Not the part where he proposed out of the blue, nearly ran over them with his car, stalked Mai for like a year, and then completely disregarded Mai’s common sense. No--this part, where he threatened to kick Mai out of the competition. That was the low blow to Joey.

You will lose this duel and gain a husband.

That is an actual line from the show, folks, this show went places.

aaaaand Mai starts losing right away.

DAMN

IT.

This is the one thing I thought was pretty much in the bag. That there would not be the concept of one of these characters getting married. That was the One thing I was sure of. But I was not only wrong, but this is like the most bizarre wedding I’ve ever seen on TV. It’s basically a shotgun wedding but with cards???

And what makes this more bizarre, and it was something I only noticed after watching this episode, is that we’ve seen this type of behavior before. But at the time, back in the beginning of this season I was just like “that was just a really weird thing that happened that wouldn’t possibly be accepted as normalized in this universe.”

Like, remember that creepy DDR guy who dueled Yugi so that if he beat Yugi in a match, that creepy guy would become Tea’s boyfriend despite never spending more than 2 minutes with either of them? That despite the fact that Yugi isn’t even her boyfriend, it was like something all three of them were like “I guess I have to go through with this now.” At the time I just assumed that was an insane thing that happened. I just assumed that would never come back.

This was the episode where suddenly I realized, maybe the big issue with these kids dating is a hell of a lot more than just actually going on dates. Maybe it’s because I didn’t understand what their love language is. It’s not Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation, and for sure as hell isn’t Physical Touch, it’s the 6th, not very often talked about love language, that’s right, it’s Cards. Rewrite everything, Gary Chapman. Tear it all down and reshoot all those Ted Talks, we forgot something.

Like, sometimes I forget that these guys live in a universe controlled by cards. I mean we’ve seen cards and romance intermingle twice. (three times, if you count Rebecca, who might be engaged to Yugi now? It was kind of a really weird ending to a card game) Pegasus even tried to resurrect his dead wife through cards. All these cards currently exist because of Pegasus’ undying love for Cecilia (who is...OMG I forgot that chick might be alive somewhere)

What I’m saying is that...What if this is how they’ve actually dated this whole time? What if this whole time that I assumed no one was dating they......they actually...were? What if I just didn’t notice, because it was just so freakin weird? What if this is more like how in a Jane Austen novel, if someone goes on a walk with someone else it’s basically like 3rd base?

Like, remember Jane Austen’s Persuasion, where Captain Wentworth went on a walk with Louisa and she was like “hey catch me, I’m 14 years old!” and then she tripped off a wall and got a concussion and he was like “DAMN IT! Now I have to marry her!” and everyone was like “Well congrats on getting married, Louisa.” and then she fell in love with a sad poet who gave her soup once while Captain Wentworth was getting his nuptials planned out in Bath and so Louisa dumped Captain Wentworth’s sorry ass and he was like “OH THANK YOU. YOU ARE SO 14.” And then sad soup man showed up in Bath while Wentworth and the rest of Louisa’s family was quickly crossing out “Wentworth” on all the marriage invitations and sad soup man was like “Before Louisa, I was in love with this other chick, but she died, so I’m pretty stoked I found Louisa.” and Captain Wentworth was like “You’re such an asshole for cheating on your dead girlfriend, I would never do that, you ass!” and then immediately married Anne Wentworth by writing her one single letter saying “hey, want to get married Y/N?” despite the fact that he went well out of his way to avoid her the entire book?

What if that’s been going on in the background of Yugioh but I just didn’t know because, unlike Persuasion, I never took a college class on Yugioh Dating Customs so I have no idea when it ever happens.?

See, this is the stuff I usually delete but like psh whatever, it’s a dating episode, so for once this isn’t a tangent, and yes, I am reading too much into this, thank you.

Anyway, after Joey asks Yugi what to do and then telephones what Yugi just told him to Mai enough times, Mai beats Jean Claud Magnum and avoids a lifetime of...whatever that would have been like.

However, something is off about that game and it takes a card wizard to explain it to us although it was...........really obvious.

This is the third time someone on this show was abducted by a ninja net.

She gets kidnapped by a guy in a ninja jet suit contraption and this is her reaction!? Freakin lucid dream what the hell?

This is the weirdest show I’ve ever watched. Not so much because it has stuff other shows don’t have, but because it forces me to have these expectations of what I think it is and then, once I get comfortable, completely changes it. Last episode Bakura murdered 3 established characters in a graveyard. Like, not even random people, Bakura murdered 3 named people with funny accents we’ve known since last season. That was already completely insane for a kid’s show to do. But rather than address whatever the hell is going on with Bakura, we’re just going to add more to the pot and throw in this crazy asshole, too. For kicks.

Like this is a filler episode somehow? This filler episode would be an entire season of any other kid’s show.

So this episode ends with Mai hanging from a flag pole in a miniskirt, but it’s not like anyone in this city would ever peek their nose out of their window to see what the hell is going on, so at least she doesn’t have to worry about upskirting an entire town. Just these two people.

And like, Joey’s such a mess in that head anyway that like who freakin cares? He’ll probably wake up tomorrow without any memory of yesterday thanks to possession, drowning, getting beat up, tied up, and then this oncoming concussion.

I’m pretty sure she should have stabbed him right through with this duel disk?

(the dialogue really does imply that if he had done this himself she would have been cool with it. How freakin weird is Mai?)

And then he just lets her go? Makes you wonder if it was an abduction or just a game he thought she would enjoy? I don’t know. This episode was all over the place. I mean...maybe he really thought she’d like getting caught in a net and being flown all around Domino? I don’t freakin know.

Like, in my opinion she was stalked for over a year and abducted with several witnesses. But, no one is calling the cops. So like...was this weird to them? This was very weird to us...but like...maybe Mai was like “hm, that was a so-so date.” because this type of behavior is just how this universe does?

....

....

Yugioh, are you OK?

Anyways, next week:

Is the tourney cancelled because after episodes and episodes of tangents, no one ever freakin shows up and Kaiba has to go back to school to do a Chem final? Does Duke Devlin ever even do anything? Does it take 20 minutes for Bakura to walk through security because he keeps setting off the metal detector with his invisible necklace that he can never take off?

[fallin-flcwer]

Next Generation Connections

Helloooo! Here is a list of current and wanted connections for my muses x

Whitney Mendoza-Cruz (St. Judes)

TAKEN:

Thea, Judah & Tilly: Her siblings. I think she's closest to Judah, but she loves them all more than anything else and will always be there for them even if they aren't all as close as they used to be.

Rowan & Aurora: Childhood friends! Being the children of Chris, Hensley and Soraya, they were all brought up together. Whitney definitely misses them a lot now that they've gone away and tried her best to keep in touch with them whenever she can

Peter R: They're related through Blake being Flo's step-brother, but I don't think they really became friends until he and Aurora started dating. Whenever Peter has some trouble he usually goes to Whitney to vent, and she's always there to listen to him

Dixie: Like Peter R, Dixie and Whitney are step-cousins through Blake. While they do get along well, they can be seen clashing just as much but they always seem to make up by the next time they see each other.

Noah: One of Whitney’s first relationships was with Noah. For him, Whitney was most of his first - first date, first kiss, first time etc. but since Whitney was always more outgoing the relationship eventually fell flat and she ended up breaking up with him. All in all, I think Whitney still cares about him to some extent, and there’s a special place in their hearts for each other.

Young-Mi: Best friend and roommate in St. Judes. With the two of them being very sociable and adventurous they often found themselves in the same group and eventually got closer to the point where they were constantly hanging out doing whatever together.

WANTED:

St. Judes Friends: Whitney's always been a social person but now that her friends have moved away she'd definitely put effort into getting to know people in the uni.

Ex-Flings: Whit is 100% a bruh girl but she definitely went through a short phase where she was continuously hooking up with guys, and getting herself into messy situations and decided that it wasn't for her LMAO.

Exes: Genuine relationships she's had over the course of high school. I think they'd go well for a few months but then after a bit Whitney would get bored if they weren't as outgoing as her LMAO. We can always discuss whether of not they ended on bad terms.

Tilly Mendoza-Cruz (Diamond Bridge)

TAKEN:

Thea, Judah & Whitney: Older siblings. Being the baby of the family, Tilly is easily the most naïve and sheltered out of the four and would've looked up to them all a lot growing up, especially her sisters.

Min-Hyuck: A dancing friend. Although they go to different unis they’ve formed a bond through dancing and kind of have a partner in crime kind of friendship

WANTED:

Roommate/Mum friend: Going straight from living with her family to moving to Diamond Bridge, Tilly would not last a day living alone LMFAO. So maybe a roommate that teaches her basic stuff like how to cook and do laundry, and while they can be annoyed with her sometimes, they tolerate and take pride in teaching her.

Dancing friend(s): Dancers inside and outside of Diamond Bridge that she hangs out with. Maybe there's some where's like a little playful rivalry going on, but generally I don't Tilly would have the heart to wholeheartedly pit herself against other dancers

Dancing student: They don't really have to be a dancer, but I think it'd be cute for Tilly to have a plot where someone sees her dancing, they become friends and now she always teaches them different choreographies. I think she'd really enjoy something like that, since she isn't the one being taught for once

Sylvia Jimenez-Lin (Liberty)

TAKEN:

Jay: Her ex and crush. She left him without telling him the reason after finding out about her illness, but since then she's opened up to him and they've been talking again since then

Lily: Her best friend. They are always there for each other during their highs and lows. I think even now that Sylvia's in New York, they both put effort into facetiming each other and making the most of the time that they have together when they are in the same place

Nicolai: Childhood best friend. Nicolai spent most of his time living with Phoenix and Sylvia, and because of that she grew up knowing the things that went down between him and his dad, and in return Nicolai often treats Sylvia like he's her big brother. Even though they aren't as close as they used to be, Nicolai is still very protective of Syl.

Daisy: Back in high school years, Syl and Daisy used to always bump into each other at the hospital while they were getting check ups on their conditions but never really got to know each other well aside from that. In Liberty, she and Daisy ended up becoming roommates and at some point Sylvia accident grabbed one of Daisy's hospital treatment letters, thinking that it was one of her's. 

WANTED:

New friends: I think now that she is out of Violet Springs, and generally has a better outlook on life since her diagnosis, Sylvia will become a lot more social and popular in Liberty. Not like Youi popular but almost there. 

First boyfriend: The only guys she would've dated before Jay. I think they would've been pretty young, so maybe they were going really well for a bit but then things kinda slowed down. Eventually they ended up breaking it off, but they've been good friends ever since

Nila Lin (West Ivys)

TAKEN:

Belle: Ex-Best Friends. They used to always be there for each other, going out to parties and getting wasted together, but when Belle's parents divorced and she started going off the rails Nila thought that she was going too far. While Nila tried to get her to tone it down, Belle wanted Nila to follow along with her, leading them to having a massive falling out. I think even now they aren't talking, Nila's always keeping an eye on her from afar

Darcy: Ex-Girlfriend. Darcy is the first girl Nila dated. Prior to that, she had only dated guys and assumed she was straight based off that. Being very young when they were dating, naturally they grew apart and ended on healthy terms.

Nicolas: A close friend of her’s that stuck by her after her friendship with Belle fell apart. He really kept an eye on her and was just really supportive without pushing her to do/say anything and Nila appreciates him for that.

WANTED:

Ex-Boyfriends: Guys she dated short-term prior to her dating Darcy. I don't think she's the kind of person to leave anything on bad terms, especially if they didn't last long

Youi Moon (Liberty)

TAKEN:

Hayi: Older sister. I think both of them are probably the most vicious of the Moon-Kang clan. If you ever mess with one if them you'll have both of them to deal with, plus the boys every now and then. Youi is definitely more bold and vocal, but Hayi definitely plays a role in keeping her tame.

San: Older brother. I think while they give of very different vibes -with San being the weirdo of the family and Youi being the borderline bitchy, popular girl- they very much think the same. Growing up, I think Youi would've been closer to San than she was to Hayi, and even though that's changed over time, she goes to him when she feels more playful, or when (on the rare occasion) she's upset.

Addy, Callie & Bianca: High School best friends. The four of them were part of the popular clique in Gallagher. I think being away from them is kinda bittersweet for Youi. Even though she thinks they were lowkey fake at times, she really does miss them and would love to catch up whenever she has the chance.

Louisa: An unlikely friend while they both come from wealthy families, they never were really part of the same circle since Youi fell into the popular clique while Louisa was more mature, but recently they’ve gotten to know each other and kind of welcome each other to different aspects of their lives, introducing different things to one another Jay: Secret friends with benefits. Currently they’re sleeping together but no one really knows about it since Youi can’t bring herself to be involved with anyone in that way. The relationship on her side is only physical. 

Ethan: Since Ethan and Addy broke up Ethan has been hitting on Youi, but she kinda just takes it as him needing a friend to talk to. While she eventually catch on to him flirting, she’s still very touchy about it since she’s still considers Addy a friend, and doesn’t really know how to go about it alongside her situation with Jay.

WANTED:

Liberty Friends: Youi was in the rich, popular clique in Gallagher and in Liberty it isn't any different. I think she falls into that kind of group naturally. and since she doesn't have Callie, Bianca and Addy with her she's kinda become the HBIC in Liberty without realising. She'd definitely want more people around her though

Jihoon Kang (Blossom Bell)

TAKEN:

Hayi: Cousin, Best Friend & Roommate. Between this friendship, Hayi holds 95% of the braincells LMFAO. She is Jihoon's impulse control, and if he didn't have her around he'd probably be wind up in so much trouble. He's definitely picked up a thing or two from Hayi when it comes to being tactical and strategic.

San: Cousin, Best Friend & Groupmate. I think these two are definitely the goofiest in the family. He isn't as close to San as he is to Hayi, but being in the same group has brought them together a lot more, resulting in many chaotic moments happening in their group and at home.

Amelia: Jihoon produces music for Amelia. Their music-making process is really sending tracks back and forth to each other until they reach the final product. Some people probably think that the process they have is inconvenient but he encourages her to release more music, and their little system works for them.

WANTED:

Unrequited Crush/Someone he's unintentionally leading on: A toxic trait that Haneul and all of his sons have in common is that while they are great at communicating with girls, they are incredibly oblivious to their feelings LMAO.  I think simply because he's best friends with Hayi, he's used to talking to girls in a casual way, but since they're not his cousin, he isn't afraid to make flirty jokes and stuff like that just for the fun of it. So maybe while they're developing something for him, Jihoon doesn't notice at all.

(NEW) Yohan Kang (Blossom Bell)

TAKEN:

Hayi & San: His cousins. Being more on the quiet, private side he was never really as close to Jiwon's kids as Jihoon was. I think now that he and San are in Blossom Bell together, they've definitely become a lot closer, although he is still lowkey judging him. 

Young-Mi: Childhood friends gone unrequited crush. Yohan and Young-Mi were familiar with each other mostly through Elodie and Haneul. Whenever Elodie and Young-Mi went on holiday to South Korea, Haneul always offered them rooms at his house. Yohan and Young-Mi were close, but while she has a crush on him, Yohan only really sees it all as a friendship.

Min-Hyuck: With their father’s being members of Seventeen, although they might not have seen each other all to often, they were often associated with each other. In Blossom Bell, they are now roommates and have gotten a lot closer.

WANTED:

Academy Buddies: While he loves his family, and the fact that a majority of them are in Blossom Bell, he'd definitely try and break away from them and make more friends

Guy Squad: Maybe like a friend group of 3 or 4 guys from different unis that are always seen hanging out and goofing around. Yohan would generally be the mum friend of the group, but he'd definitely feel more free to enjoy himself with this group

(NEW) Joji "Georgie" Heo (Blossom Bell)

TAKEN:

Min-Hyuck: Twin brother. Between the two, Georgie is the more outgoing one. They're both really close and pretty much grew up looking up to their father wanting to become idols. While Minhyuck stayed on that path, Georgie decided that she didn't really want that much attention and became a choreographer instead

WANTED:

Roommates: She goes to Blossom Bell, and I'd love for her to have a roommate. Whether they have a lot in common and get along, or if they have a little clash in personality, it can be developed!!

Friends: Just new friends in general!! Georgie's a social butterfly, so I doubt that having friends in overseas and rival unis would matter to her at all LOL

(NEW) Eric Mendoza (Rosewell)

TAKEN:

Tammy: He and Tammy were in a long-term relationship before he found out that he had a son. In a panic, he broke up with her without saying anything, and while she's still mad a him him, but still wants to know why he did it.

Noah: Childhood best friends. He was the first person Eric went to when he found out that he had a son, and in turn Noah helped cover for him until he sorted his secret out with his sister. To this say the only person aside from Moira that knows.

WANTED:

Friends: He was brought up in Violet Springs and was one of those people that can blend into any kind of clique in high school so just friends in general would be nice for him, especially since he's new 

[imagine-loki]

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 13

AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit.

RATING: T

NOTES: It’s been quite a long time since I updated, and I hope you’ll forgive me with this new chapter. As always, I love to hear your comments & thoughts. Thank you ♥︎

He had left a note addressed to the servants saying that he aimed to be back in a week or so. However, the master hadn’t stated the reason for his sudden departure, and I knew I was in no position to tell them of the actual motive of his journey. In his note, Mr. Laufeyson additionally mentioned that he would manage to catch a ride on one of the public carriages from the village that was heading towards his destination, but I was wise enough to know that this was far from the truth.

Despair and melancholy coursed throughout my whole body as the servants began to elatedly set up their table for breakfast, given that none of their morning duties would have to be performed in my master’s absence. Dickon asked if I would like to join them, but I kindly declined. I was in no mood for eating, and I said I would instead go on an early stroll outside.

Since our return to Heathcote from Leicester, our garden had been growing steadily day by day. And yet today, all of the flowers appeared to be in full bloom. I took in the sights of the roses, peonies, lilacs, and multiple other flowers situated neatly about the garden. The fragrant smell was pleasantly overpowering to the senses. My master had gone away before seeing such a sight, and I wondered, with an sensation of dread that almost made me fall onto my wobbly knees, if he would safely return home to see it.

My existence was comprised of a deep sorrow in the days that transpired: a sorrow that no book, needlework pattern nor letter that I exchanged with Agnes could relinquish. I was truly pleased that my friend was to be reunited with her family, but I knew that there was no way of eliminating the underlying uneasiness and detachment that tainted my words; words that had practically passed unconsciously from my pen onto paper. I became cold and indifferent to all those around me due to the amount of disquiet that tormented me. Yes, I had always been rather levelheaded and pragmatic, but never before had I acted in such an off-putting way to others.

One day, I had built up the courage to return to the village on my own to pass the time. I tried my best to evade the other villagers, given that I was in no mood to act cheerfully before them. I did, however, come into contact with the same young man from the bookshop named James. Upon my reentry into the store, which was much less crowded this time around, he immediately recognized me from his position behind a massive bookshelf. In his arms he was carrying a large amount of books to restock the shelves with. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Laufeyson’s ward again. I was wondering when I’d see you next.” He speculated with a grin before placing the heavy books onto the floor besides him. “How are you getting along with your master gone, and the house practically all to yourself?” “Just swell.” I mumbled. He laughed at my sullenness, yet I found nothing funny about what I had just said.

“So, what brings you here today?” He asked. “I need something new to read. Something pleasurable, and not too serious, to occupy my mind. I can’t deal with complex plots at the moment.” I stressed, as my fingers ran across some spines on the bookshelf nearest to me, which happened to be in need of a desperate dusting, for the grey grime adhered to the black crochet gloves I was wearing.

He eyed me curiously, but proceeded. “Well. I think I have something you would enjoy, unless you have read it already. Despite how it was first published some years ago, it remains to be quite popular. We just received the latest edition.” Strolling over to a small table with a sign that said Our Bestsellers, he picked up a sizable volume and then handed it to me. On the beautifully gilded cover laid the title: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. “Isn’t this a book for children?” I curiously inquired. “Why yes, but the writing is highly sophisticated and many of our customers say how delightful the story is. Besides, its rather nice to return to more elementary books sometimes, to rest your mind from intricacies. All you ever seem to read are strenuous novels.” “How would you know that?” “Oh… uhm.” He sputtered nervously. “There’s something you’re not telling me, James.” I stated with irritation.

He looked around the store before bringing me behind a bookshelf, a space not occupied by any other person. “It’s Elsie,” He finally admitted. “She tells me all about you and how kind you are to her. She highly admires how you stuck up for her that one time, given how shy she is.” “Oh? Are you close friends?” “More than that. You see, I’ve proposed to her in secret. No one, not even any of our family members, knows just yet.” This conveyance of information bolstered my happiness and optimism tremendously. “Well then why don’t you tell them? Would they disapprove?” “No, not at all. We are of the same social position, and our families have been close acquaintances for as long as I can remember.”

I questioned him further. “Then what is holding you back on fulfilling your happiness with Elsie?” “She is concerned about her position at the manor, and if Mr. Laufeyson would approve of her coming to live with me in my own cottage.” “Of course he would! And if for some reason he disapproved, I would be sure to tell him otherwise. Once he returns,” I took a deep breath upon saying this, for I wasn’t entirely certain of the unpredictable circumstances of war. “Once he returns,” I repeated more confidently. “I shall talk to him about it. Nobody should prevent you from being together.” “Oh, thank you Miss Dowling! Thank you!” He exclaimed as he shook my hand enthusiastically. “Call me Victoria, please.” I kindly encouraged.

My encounter with James, and the conversation that I had with Elsie that followed, had restored some joy and hope back to my life. James had been quite right about the book I had purchased as well, for I thought the story was pleasant and refreshing for a change. In the following days the daylight hours would diminish while I read alone in the garden, or when I stole away to the small parlor room in which the grand piano resided. Once my fingers touched down upon the keys, it seemed that all I could play was the melody of that first waltz I had danced to with my master. All of the other songs that I had memorized over the years were absent from my mind, as all I remembered was that beautiful song that had endured within me, despite that I had only heard it once. My fingers trailed across the keys, which gradually became dampened by my tears, as I continued to play the same refrain over and over again.

¨¨¨°º0º°¨¨¨

I had many restless nights ever since his departure; nights where I would walk in the corridors with a candelabra in my hand to mediate the worried thoughts that would steadily build up within the confines of my still bedchamber. On a rainy evening, about two weeks following his absence, I had a peculiar premonition of dread that caused me to pass through the halls incessantly after all of the servants had gone to bed. I still had not changed into my nightgown, given how troubled I was. The rain continued to pour heavily outside as harsh winds rattled the windows. I gazed at how the tiny droplets plummeted down the windowpane that looked out onto the front yard, and my own reflection was casted onto the glass from the candlestick that I held before me. My face had grown much paler and hollow as of late, and my wavy long hair, loosely framed my face, as I had had no motivation to pin it up today.

It was then that a booming, earth-splintering noise came from outside. It was a sound that caused the ground beneath my feet to quake. This clamor was immediately followed by a burst of golden light that fell from the sky: illuminant beams that caused me to screen my eyes from observing them. Curious to know the cause of this phenomenon, for I knew it was certainly not an average occurrence of thunder and lightening, I hurried to the front door of the manor, leaving my candlestick on the nearest table I could find. The rain heavily fell upon me once I crossed the threshold, and even though the light that had fell from the heavens was no longer present, a strange green haze had been left in its wake that permitted me to slightly see through the oppressive twilight.

I moved further out onto the moors, and through the tumultuous rain, I saw something that instilled a deep, yet undefinable, fear to succumb upon my person. From a distance, I could see a tall figure who wore a helmet that was domineered by a set of large horns, which were attached to the top portion of the head piece, as well as golden metal plates affixed to his clothes, which resembled armor. These were the only characteristics that could be deduced from the person that was steadily moving towards me, as the thick smoke partially obscured my view. I knew that I had seen such horns before, but from where, I could not recall.

The rain began to permeate through my dress and caused my hair to cling to my face and neck, yet I did not move from my position to seek shelter inside. The person who wore the unworldly armor continued to advance towards me, until more rays of golden light emitted from whoever was before me and the figure disappeared from my view altogether when a heavier fog arose. However, I still heard the shuffling of someone’s footsteps, and as the air began to thin, it was then that I saw it was a man who wore no ethereal armor, but everyday attire.

It was then that I recognized my master.

Had I only imagined the spectacle of that strange armor? I was unsure, and was quickly deterred from these thoughts from what I next observed.

My master’s body was slightly hunched over as he limped onwards, and his right hand held onto his upper left arm. Along his face was various cuts and scrapes that were still bloody and which gave off the impression that he had just stepped off the battlefield. And when I observed the vest and billowy shirt that he was wearing, it appeared as though he had just changed into them given how dry and clean they were.

I briefly wondered how he had gotten here, as I could perceive no carriage nor horse nearby, but when he gave out a soft groan, I rushed towards him. “Oh sir, you’re injured.” I lamented, and although I looked onwards at him with deep concern, his eyes seemed to lighten up when they aligned with mine. “I came back… I came back to you.” He uttered softly. I couldn’t find the words to respond to his ardent confession, so I instead fixed my arm about him to give him leverage. Locking the door behind us once we were back inside, I gathered up my candlestick and resumed my position at his side. His arm fell lazily about my shoulders as we walked down the corridor in the direction of his room. “Are the others asleep?” He mumbled. “Yes, sir. Do not worry about them. Just guide me to your room.” Despite that I had set foot many a time in the wing where his chamber was, especially on my walks around the manor the last couple of nights, I never knew, nor did I have the intention to ask any of the others, which rooms were his.

Even in the shadows of the darkened space, I found his room to be immaculate. I could tell that the rooms in this wing were much more older and traditional than those in the other parts of the house. The walls were paneled with a dark wood that was harmonious with the frame of his four poster bed, which went beautifully with the ivy green coverings on his mattress and windows.

I helped him onto the bed once I found his room before fetching the first aid kit from a hallway cupboard just outside. Upon returning, I got up and kneeled directly onto the mattress besides him before observing the location of his wound, which had further stained the white shirt above it a deep, vivid, crimson color since my short absence. “Don’t tell me you’re trained in first aid too?” He speculated with wonderment, as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Hush, and lie back.” I gently ordered. He obeyed at once.

I experienced a mixture of timidity and giddiness as he looked onwards at me as my hands untied and took off his cravat and gently assisted in unbuttoning and removing his vest and his bloodstained shirt. His pale, chiseled chest was then presented to me, and I knew my cheeks were flushed as I turned my attention away by busying myself with the wound on his arm. It was rather a deep laceration, and I knew that a surgical suture would be the best thing to do in order to prevent infection.

“Sir, your wound requires stitches. I am confident that I can perform them on you.” He continued to looked onwards at me in stupefaction. “And how does a young girl of seventeen know how to do such a thing?” “My father was fascinated by the latest advances in medicine and he always had medical journals lying about the house,” I spoke rapidly, as he was already loosing blood and there was no time to be spared. “I found the practice fascinating and would study them when I was bored with all the other books in our library.” This was the reason why I had been so against them at the bookshop that one time, with my first encounter with James - for I had quite my fill of them already. “That is all very impressive on your part Victoria, but I doubt such a procedure is necessary for me.” “But sir, the wound will become infected and-” “Just clean it with some hydrogen peroxide and wrap it in a heavy bandage. That’s all that needs to be done. It’ll be better by the morning.” He assured me with conviction.

I looked at him with worry, not certain if I were to listen to him or follow my own instinctive impulses. “I’ll go fetch Dr. Sweeney. He will know what to do.” I was about to slide off the bed, but he held onto me. “You don’t trust me?” “No, especially because you said that you come out of battles ‘just fine’. Is this what you meant?!” I spat in anger. He chuckled. “I’ve experienced worse in the past actually.” “And why am I not surprised?” I turned back to his wound, which already appeared to have stopped bleeding as heavily as it once did just a few moments prior. I searched for the hydrogen peroxide in the kit and poured an adequate amount onto a clean cloth. I immediately placed the cloth over his wound, and he let out a guttural moan in response. “You could have told me it was going to sting.” “I thought you didn’t need to be warned, given how many times you have been hurt before!” I glared at him with animosity, yet the softened expression on his face gave me pause. He no longer laughed nor appeared indifferent to the situation at hand.

“I’m sorry Victoria, for leaving you so abruptly and returning in such a state.” His eyes looked much more green in the candlelight than I previously recalled them to be, and I found myself momentarily lost in them. Yet, I soon nodded to show my acceptance of his apology, and continued to gently clean his wound without emitting another word.

Only our breaths filled the tenebrous room as I wrapped up his arm in a heavy gauze bandage once I believed the gash to be fully disinfected, and took out a fresh cloth which I dampened with water. Advancing even closer to my master, I placed my right hand lightly upon his shoulder to steady myself as I washed away the dried blood on the minor cuts and scrapes along his forehead and cheeks. “How beautiful you are in this light… an angel.” He whispered, as his opposite hand slowly drifted upwards to tuck a stray lock of my wet hair behind my ear. Being just about done with cleaning his face, I grew still at his sentimental words. I then noticed that he was struggling to remain fully awake by the way that the long lashes of his eyelids had momentarily fluttered and almost closed completely before he jerked and positioned himself more upright.

“You’re weak sir. You need to sleep. You hardly know what you are saying.” I urged before I got up from the bed and went to the dresser besides his bed to search for a clean shirt. He seemed to be more aware of what was going on than I had thought with what he next said. “However fatigued, I am still quite cognizant of my words Victoria… and you will find a shirt in the third drawer from the top.” I indeed did find a fresh button down shirt in the designated drawer and I helped my master into it once I resumed my place on his mattress. I also removed the stained coverlet from his bed, and was relieved to find that the other bedclothes beneath it had not been soiled. As it was slightly cold in his room, I additionally made and stoked a fire in the room’s fireplace.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” I inquired once I was sure that the fire was strong enough the last through the night. “Yes, I wish for you to stay here with me.” This request was simple, as I wouldn’t mind remaining near-at-hand if he would need anything during the night. “Of course. I shall sleep on your armchair by the fire.” “No. I want you near.” “Then I shall move the armchair closer to your bed.” I proposed, thinking that was what he had meant. However, he was still not satisfied. “You misunderstand me, my dear. I want you at my side.” I swallowed deeply. “In your b-bed?” “Yes.” He answered, lightly chuckling at my incertitude.

“But my clothes, sir. They are still damp from the rain.” The excuse that I used was true, for even though my skirt had dried, my bodice was still sodden. “Remove whatever is dampened then and place them on the rack by the fire to dry.” He replied in a relaxed tone, as if he was not challenging my dignity and modesty with what he was suggesting. “You’d have me sleep beside you… in my undergarments?” I asked, mortified. “I promise that I shall not look.” He tried to hold back a teasing smile, but failed to do so. I sternly raised an eyebrow, even though I slightly found myself wanting to sleep besides him, given how I still could hardly believe that he had returned.

I eventually told him not to peek as I walked closer to the fire and quickly shed off my bodice. Hurrying back over to his bed, with only my chemise and corset covering my upper body, I stood before it, uncertain of how to proceed. He had positioned his body slightly to face the wall opposite him and had pulled a heavy quilt, that had been folded neatly at the base of his bed, over his body.

A moment passed and he spoke up. “Aren’t you going to come in?” He asked, still facing the wall to respect my modesty. I debated on if I should sleep above or under the quilt, and came to comprehend that if I slept above it, there was a higher possibility of him looking at my undergarments. I blew out the candles and slipped beneath the blanket, immediately sensing the body heat radiating off of my master. “Goodnight, sir.” I closed my eyes, hoping that my words would be the end to our conversation for that night. But, as I felt him shift on the bed besides me, I knew that they would not be.

“Has Miss Victoria Dowling grown shy on me?” He asked softly. “What makes you think that?” “Your eyes are still closed shut and you are practically situated on the edge of the bed.” He laughed in amusement at my reserve, and when I opened my eyes and slightly turned my head to the left, I had found that he had moved away from the wall and was now facing me. The warm embers of the fire in the grate illuminated the softened contours of his face, and I somewhat jumped as I felt him make contact with my hand under the blanket. “Come closer to me, Victoria.” The gentleness of his voice beguiled me to slowly glide closer to him until, when I was within reach, his uninjured arm enveloped my waist and gently pulled me to the spot directly next to him in the middle of the large mattress. He did not intend for me to rest my head upon a pillow, but on his chest instead.

My head was still momentarily suspended above him, and I knew that my shortness of breath was clearly audible to his ears. “Relax… that’s my girl.” He cooed, as I finally rested my head upon him with a heavily drawn sigh. I could not relax, however, for he made me even more nervous when I felt his fingers at my back start to untie the fastenings of my corset. “Wha-what are you doing, sir?” I stuttered in fright. “I just thought I’d loosen your corset slightly for you.” With one hand, managed to untie my corset and undo some of the laces, which did indeed make it more comfortable for me to sleep in it. “There, isn’t that better?” He asked for confirmation once he was done. “Yes.” I exhaled with relief. “Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson.” “Loki. Please call me Loki, Victoria.” I peered up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down upon me. He continued to speak. “I hardly think there is any need for any further formalities between us.” “Okay, Loki.” His name felt strange on my lips. “But may I still call you sir?” “Sure, if you prefer.” He grinned. “Besides, I rather like it when you do.”

My right arm, which had been reservedly tucked close to my own chest, hesitantly fell slightly upon my master’s as I grew more relaxed in his embrace. It was as though I could detect the smile that was on his lips when he next spoke to sweetly bid me goodnight. “Goodnight, Loki.” I whispered back to him, already on the cusp of sleep. I could finally slumber peacefully now that he had returned, and I would do so while listening to my master’s hushed breaths. It was as though the rise and fall of my master’s chests were the undulations of the sea, gently guiding me away from the shores of consciousness into the tranquil and silent abyss of my dreams.

I awoke the next morning feeling fully rested for once, and upon opening my eyes, I had momentarily forgotten where I was. It wasn’t until I looked upwards into my master’s attentive face that the events of the previous night were remembered. “Goodmorning. Sleep well?” He remarked with a smile. “Yes. I-” I stopped speaking. Upon shifting slightly, I realized that my arm had extended across my master’s chest, to pull myself even closer to him, and that one of my legs had entwined with his over the course of the night. “I’m sorry for intruding on your space, sir. I shall go.” I mumbled in shame, as I began to draw away from him. “No matter. Your nearness comforts me. And besides, we have nowhere to go.” “But your wound, sir, it is imperative that I check it.” “You may, after we rest for a few more minutes.” Even though I was still tentative, I nestled closer to him and continued to rest at his side in silence for the preceding moments, but when we soon heard the bedroom door open, I sprang up. My master, however, slowly sat upwards: apparently not wholly concerned with being caught in such a predicament by one of the servants.

It was Elsie, who had probably been assigned to clean Mr. Laufeyson’s room so it was tidy upon his return. Her eyes widened as she took in the image of us on his bed together. The broom fell from her hands, and it seemed to fall in slow motion until it clanged loudly against the hardwood floor. “Oh… I’m so sorry for intruding. I didn’t know you had returned, master. Please forgive me.” She stuttered as she continued to look between the two of us. Given that my master had untied some of the laces of my corset, the chemise I wore underneath it was rather loose and, as a result, the sleeve on my right shoulder had lazily fallen down: further giving off the impression that some indecorous act had befallen upon us the previous night. I raised it back over my shoulder before folding my arms about my chest. “Tell nobody of what you have seen, and you shall not be punished. Go.” He ordered in a severe tone that made me shiver. She picked up the broom and scurried from the room.

When she was gone, I reached behind me and attempted to tie up my corset again like a madwoman. I was flustered over being caught in such a state, and hoped that Elsie would be understanding of the true reason behind what she had seen. “Calm down, Victoria. Let me offer you some assistance.” I felt his fingertips on my hands. “No, don’t touch me!” I retorted in distress, briefly noticing how he dolefully drew back from me. Scrambling away from him, I got off the bed and managed to somewhat tie my corset by myself as I felt my master’s eyes burning into my partially uncovered back.

I no longer cared that he could fully see me in my upper undergarments now, for the predicament involving Elsie perturbed me more. I retrieved my bodice from the rack by the fire and slipped it on, moving closer to the door with every hook that I latched. “Don’t you wish to check my wound, Victoria?” He called to me from his bed. I blushed at his reminder, as my stress had made me momentarily forget all about his injured arm.

Without speaking, I returned to his side and silently rolled up his sleeve before unwrapping the gauze bandage, which appeared unused due to how untarnished it was by any blood. What I next uncovered made me gasp with astonishment. It just happened that his wound had slightly closed back up over the night, as if somebody had miraculously stitched up his wound with invisible thread. I had never known that deep lacerations could heal so fast as his had. "See, there was no need for stitches.” He remarked proudly, his eyes probing my countenance, yearning that my expressionless face would open back up to him. I still didn’t speak as I applied some ointment and a fresh bandage to his arm.

He then took my hand in his once I was finished, and I looked away. "Don’t be upset Victoria.” He said, calling me back to him. “She saw us. She must think that we…” I mumbled nervously. “No. Elsie knows that you are a respectable girl, and that you would do nothing of the sort.” His words assuaged me to a certain extent, but I still desired to seek Elsie out and discuss the matter with her at once.

[writeles]

Perception

I just finished watching the movie “Me Before You” and it was great. I love the storyline and everything about it: the actors’ acting; cinematography; locations; dialogues and most of all the soundtrack (Ed Sheeran fan here 🤗). However, I can’t help not to hate the male protagonist’s character.

First, let me give a summary of the movie. It was about a man named Will who has everything and living a good life. He is rich and has a wonderful career. He has amazing parents that love him dearly as well as a girlfriend and friends. He does almost all kinds of sports and enjoying life to the fullest. However, an unfortunate event happened. He got into an accident that caused him to be paralyzed. And then a bubbly, chatty, clumsy, and cheerful Louisa became Will’s caregiver. Lou suddenly became jobless and that cause her family’s dilemma since they currently have financial difficulty. That is why when the job post as a caregiver came, it was an answered prayer for Lou and her family.

At the start, Will was cold and difficult to deal with which causes Lou to have a hard time doing her job. Eventually, things have changed. Will and Lou had good conversations and started to have a better relationship compared to before. Then one day, Lou overheard Will’s parents’ argument about their son’s decision - to end his life after six months. Lou almost quit her job because she cannot stand the fact that she is taking care of someone who already decided to die. After conversing with her sister, Lou decided to continue with her job not just for money, but also because she wanted to convince Will to change his mind. Will’s parents became supportive of Lou’s plans on persuading Will to continue living. As time pass, Will and Lou became closer. Will started to smile, laugh and they went to places Lou suggested for them to go. Then the two fell in love with each other and shared a beautiful kiss.

Lou thought that she became successful in convincing Will to change his decision but it was just in vain. Will was still determined on proceeding to end everything as his medical condition is already hopeless. Lou was devastated and cried out loud to her family. Lou had a conversation with her dad and when her father told her “ We don’t change people, we love them” - she finally decided to respect Will’s decision and went to Switzerland as Will initially requested her to be on his side during his last moments. Weeks after Will’s passing, Lou received a letter from him telling her about the money he left her for her to live freely and comfortably. Will told Lou to live...to live life to the fullest.

Honestly, I somehow understand the pain of the male protagonist. You were once full of life, then one day, you can no longer live it the way you used to. I think everyone who will experience that, would at one point, think they could have just died instead of living a miserable life. But even how hard I try to completely understand Will’s decision, I just can’t.  Others will say: “Your pain might not be as painful as mine". “You don’t know what I have been going through". “ You know nothing about my miserable life”. Those are all true. We should respect everyone’s pain. 

However, let’s not forget that “Everybody hurts”. Everyone has his/her fair share of pain and miseries here on earth. No one is exempted. Although I get where Will’s character is coming from, I still wished he could have tried harder on seeing things from a different perspective. To realize the things he must be grateful for. The fact that he survived the accident and still be able to see his parents and loved ones is already a blessing. He has caring parents and money to afford therapies and eventually, he was able to speak. He can still see beautiful mornings and have all these high-tech gadgets as a source of entertainment. And he had Lou. Not everyone receives the favor of having someone that you can connect with. The one you met and loved you at your worst. Who caused you to smile and laugh again. Everybody wants to meet their soulmates and no one should ever waste that once in a lifetime chance.

For me, Will’s reason for ending his life is shallow. Real Talk: A lot of people have Will’s situation just in a different circumstance. Some cannot live the life they wanted because like Lou, they don’t have enough money to sustain it - they are financially paralyzed. Some can’t do what they want in their life because they have huge responsibilities need to fulfill hence, they are paralyzed with their life obligations. Some people are fighting for their lives but due to a terminal illness - they can no longer continue to live. 

Having a disability is scary especially in Will’s case. But I believe that as long as you are still breathing, you should never give up on life. There will always be someone who is in a worse situation than you but decided to keep going.

All I know is that if we have a perception that we do not deserve anything, we will become more grateful for the things we have. Also, only the true God above has the sole right to say when will our lives end.

[kithalstead]

Blush, and the Sea

The first-person Lyla called was Mai, sitting in the to-capacity, fluorescently-lit waiting room of Maple Ridge Memorial Hospital between a mother with a screaming toddler and a middle-aged man who was trying to convince his partner that he had Alice in Wonderland syndrome; the partner did not seem convinced. Lyla had been staring at her shoes, trying to memorize the way the laces looped together. She didn’t understand how a knot actually worked, even though she was an actual adult with car insurance and an apartment. The phone call was an accident, honestly. She hadn’t done it on purpose; the contact was just one up from her mother’s, and before she knew it, she could hear the dialing coming through the speaker.

Mai didn’t answer, because Lyla hung up the phone, and then turned it off, before she could. She tucked the phone away in her bag, and waited. Her mother, Louisa, was still in surgery after sustaining serious injuries in a hit and run. She’d been on her way to the bank with that day’s deposit from Blush Boutique, the store Louisa owned and ran by herself, when a car had blown through a stop sign. The surgeons had promised Lyla that they’d do everything in their power to save her mother, but Lyla suspected it wasn’t up to them.

Sitting in the waiting room, alone, sandwiched between Alice in Wonderland and the Nightmare Rugrat, staring at her shoes whose laces didn’t make logical sense, she prayed for the first time in fifteen years.

 Her father had been tall, that’s what she remembered most about him even now. Travis used to lift her up onto his shoulders, and she could see forever.

“If you look close enough, dumplin’, you’ll see the Pacific and the Atlantic oceans from here,” he used to tell her. She’d strain her eyes, trying to see the rippling waves of each ocean. She had borrowed every book on the ocean from her primary school’s library and fallen in love, especially with the life underneath the waves.

He used to take her to the aquarium for her birthday, since they lived in the middle of Montana. It was the closest he could get her to the sea for a day trip. The day that she’d decided to become a marine biologist, she was six years old. He’d woken her up before the sun had risen with kisses peppered all over her face and whispered to her that it was time. She’d sprung out of bed and dressed in her nicest clothes, although she’d put on her shoes on the wrong feet at first. They ate breakfast at a 24-hour diner on the way, where she could eat anything she wanted. She got chocolate chip waffles with strawberries and whipped cream on top, and hot chocolate with whipped cream as well. He got black coffee, and a stack of pancakes.

Then, he loaded her back up into his truck and drove them to the aquarium. She wasn’t sure how the tradition started, but he’d always taken her to the aquarium on her birthday. It wasn’t crowded at open, so they went early and spent the day there. At some point, he’d lift her up onto his shoulders so she could see over the crowds. His shoulders were the best place, the safest, and she always felt like she was flying without ever being afraid of falling. Her daddy was there, and he’d never let anything happen to her.

“Daddy,” she said towards the end of the day. They were alone in one of the tunnels, glass domed over them so they were surrounded with fish. “I’m going to swim in every ocean! And! I’m going to discover Atlantis.”

“Yes, you will, dumplin’. You will be the Jane Goodall of the sea.”

Lyla didn’t know who or what Jane Goodall was, but she liked the way her daddy said it.

“Yeah,” she whispered to herself. She looked into the crystalline water, and found an octopus staring intently at her. She stared back. “I’ll be of the sea.”

 Lyla couldn’t tell you how she got home, even though it was an hour and a half drive from campus to her hometown. All she remembered was the silence at the end of the voicemail before the person on the other end had hung up, that deafening silence that rattled incessantly like the loose exhaust pipe on her pick-up. All she remembered was stumbling through the front doors of the hospital and asking for the intensive care unit.

Then she was at her mother’s side, holding her hand while she slept.

Louisa Webb was a pretty woman in her early forties, rail thin with glossy dark hair that she took meticulous care of. She was a hurricane of a woman, determination driving her towards whatever she wanted and then beyond. She had opened Blush Boutique in the dying town Lyla had grown up in, a place where it was certainly destined to fail, and had managed to make it thrive. She had created the most popular clothing store in town, and she had done it with little to no help. Lyla had always admired her mother, even if she hadn’t always liked her.

A blur of doctors passed through, telling Lyla that her mother was strong and healthy and should wake up any time. Nurses checked her mother's vitals, and made sure Lyla was comfortable, but no number of cushions or adjusted thermostats were going to make her comfortable. She wanted to see her mother’s eyes again, the sometimes cold and calculating deep brown irises that watched Lyla carefully as if she were a stranger that needed observation.

She fell asleep at some point, slumped over awkwardly with her head resting at her mother’s shoulder. She had learned to sleep anywhere years before when sleeping anywhere didn’t ache so much. She dreamt uneasily, the ache of loss revived in her chest while she stood in a room ten times too big for her. She looked up at the furniture made for giants, her parents towering over her. She tried to see their faces from where she stood, but they were too tall, and she was too small. She climbed the rungs on the bed’s frame until she could see where their faces should’ve been, but instead there was only a flat expanse of flesh. No eyes. No noses. No freckles or beauty marks. No smiles.

She jerked awake to the feeling of a hand stroking her hair. She panicked for a moment, feeling six years old again at her father’s bedside. Now, Louisa’s eyes looked at Lyla with a kindness and love that Lyla wasn’t sure she’d seen in years. The death of Travis had destroyed them both, but just for a second, Lyla saw the unaffected, unadulterated love her mother once held for her.

“Hey baby,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mom,” Lyla breathed, and leaned into her mother to wrap her in a hug. It was awkward, the edge of the bed digging unforgivingly into her stomach the entire time, but it felt nice to hold her mother, to know she was safe. Her mother shuffled over in the bed, and pat it before Lyla could move too far away. Lyla smiled and climbed into the bed with her. She didn’t fit the way she had when she was a child. She was taller now, and she had hips that got in the way more often than not. An older relative on her mom’s side once told her that she had “child-bearing hips” and had winked. It had made her uncomfortable.

She let Louisa lean into her, the weight of her mother resting against her.

“I should call the doctor,” Lyla said, looking at her mother’s sleek brunette hair crash around her slender, freckled shoulders in never-ending waves.

“Wait,” Louisa said in a whisper. “Let’s just wait.”

Lyla waited.

 Lyla used to have a dad. He died when she was six years old, and he died in this same ICU. She remembered sitting beside him while he slept in the hospital bed, reading the best she could to him because the nurses said that would help him wake up. He had saved someone, she remembered that, too. The nurse, the pretty one with big green eyes and square glasses, had told her that her daddy was very brave for what he’d done. He was a hero.

It seemed silly that the nurse was telling her this like she didn’t already know.

Of course, her daddy was a hero.

She’d hear later exactly what it was that he’d done, even though she had been just a few feet from him in the car. She’d been playing with the squid and manatee plushies her father had gotten her. He had protected a young girl, no older than 15 or so, from getting taken. The girl came to visit him in the hospital once, Lyla staring at this girl the entire time from the other side of the bed. Louisa had excused herself, unable to look at this girl, but Lyla couldn't take her eyes off of her. The girl, she never introduced herself, was extraordinarily pretty. Even glassed over with tears, her eyes held multitudes of greens and browns, and even though her cheeks were splotchy and her dirty blonde hair was pulled up into a messy bun away from her face, Lyla was enamored with her. She didn't understand why this girl was visiting then; she'd never seen the girl, and she was sure her daddy didn't have friends that were this pretty, but she was glad that she visited.

No one really ever told her what happened to leave her father in the hospital, though. She'd had to piece together the story when she was older, because her father used to be a soldier; he was tall, and muscular. He was the kind of guy that most people didn't fuck with, and yet he'd been bested. He'd laid in that bed in the hospital for weeks, looking so small.

Here's what Lyla was able to figure out: Travis was running a couple of errands after dinner, and Lyla had been driving her mother crazy that day so he'd taken his small daughter along with him. She'd played in the car with the radio playing while he ran inside the store for a few minutes. It had gotten dark quickly, fall and winter draining the sun earlier and earlier those days. When Travis had left the store, he'd seen a girl with dirty blonde hair being dragged into an alley by a figure in a dark hoodie and a bandana tied around their face, and had sprung into action. His purchases had fallen to the ground, and rolled underneath the car. Travis had grabbed the girl and pulled her back from the figure and told her to run. She had, but Travis hadn't. He had tried to capture the figure, who had friends in the shadows waiting for the figure to bring back the girl. Travis was overtaken by a group of shadowy figures who had no names, and were never identified. They'd smashed his head against the exposed brick in the alley, and escaped as he fell to the ground.

She didn't remember this, but she was the one who found him. She'd been playing for a while, and Travis had said he'd be right back, before the end of the CD he'd put on for her. When the music stopped playing, she had gotten worried. Unbuckling herself from her booster seat, she set aside her manatee and octopus, and gotten out of the car. Because her parents had insisted on child safety locks, even though she knew better than to get out of the car while it was moving, she'd had to crawl into the front seat. She wasn't supposed to get out of the car without her daddy or mommy, either, but he'd been gone a long time, and he'd promised only a couple of minutes. Staring up at the store's front doors, doors she'd never gone through along, she plucked up her nerve and strode up to the automatic doors. An employee at the counter greeted her, asking her if she was lost.

"My daddy hasn't come back yet," she'd said. "And I want to go home."

The employee had taken her by the hand and they'd walked the aisles, looking for Travis.

"What's your daddy's name?" the employee had asked, and she answered. Travis and Louisa had made sure that she knew their names in case anything happened to them. "Can you tell me what he looks like?"

"He's really tall!" she had answered. "Really tall! And he's got a beard, it's kind of scratchy."

"Oh," the employee had said, and taken her by the hand to walk her outside to do a quick look in the area. He was a nice man, quiet as he listened to her. They checked the sidewalk, and then the car, and finally, they checked the alley. She recognized her daddy immediately and had walked towards him without the employee, and knelt beside him. She had shaken his arm, telling him that she'd found him, and it was time to go home, it wasn't playtime. He didn't respond. She didn't notice the blood on the cement, or the bruise swelling around his eye, or the crack in his lip. She just knelt by her father, trying to shake him awake, unaware of the employee running to get to a phone, or the far-away sirens that were rushing towards them. She stayed by his side, confused and scared, tears dripping down her chubby cheeks while her daddy laid still on the pavement.

 Lyla had sat at her father's bedside in the hospital every day, and every night. Louisa told her that they had to stay in case he woke up. They didn't want to leave him to wake up alone, did they? The way she said it meant that she was right, and Lyla's whines to go home were wrong. But she really wanted to go home. She didn't understand. Her daddy was just sleeping, that's what everyone had told her, that he was hurt and the best way for him to heal was to sleep, and it was weird to watch someone sleep. There was only so much to do at the hospital, and she'd gotten yelled at for doing half of it. What she wanted was to go home, to stop sitting next to her father who did nothing but sleep, and to go to school. She missed her friends, and she missed learning, and she missed doing something. She really missed being able to do stuff.

Her daddy was asleep all the time, and she couldn't look at him any longer. He used to be a giant, tall and broad, like he could touch the sky. He looked so weak, fragile, small laying in that bed, impossibly small. There was something about him, something she couldn't lay her finger on, that just wasn't right anymore. It was like the hospital had replaced her daddy with a copy, a version of himself that just wasn't right.

She wanted to go back to school. Maybe learning something new would replace the image of her father looking so defenseless out of her head. It never really left, but she tried every day.

 Mai had been a TA in one of Lyla's classes and, after the class was over, her girlfriend. They'd been unbelievably, and almost grossly, in love with one another. Lyla spent more time with Mai than she did alone. They were drawn to each other, unable to keep their hands off of one another, to the point where studying in the library almost always ended in at least one of them getting off in the stacks.

"You know," Mai muttered one afternoon in Lyla's ear, "I love you so much."

Lyla leaned away and brushed Mai's sleek dark hair away from her face, and smiled. The late afternoon sunshine streamed into the bed, blanketing their bare bodies in warmth. Lyla dragged her fingers over Mai's skin, touching every perfect inch and lovingly stroking every imperfection.

"Is this the part where you tell me that you're leaving? Because I already know that," Lyla replied quietly. They spoke in whispered voices, afraid that the world would hear them and break this moment apart.

"I just want you to know that. It's a fact, and you like facts."

Lyla kissed her gently, afraid that she would shatter this last precious thing she had.

"Well, if that's the case, then, it's also a fact that you are the love of my life, Mai Chen, and nothing will change that. Not even the ocean."

The moment had ended, though, shattered by reality. Mai was leaving, she'd gotten a job in Japan at a research center. She was leaving at the end of the month, and Lyla couldn't go with her. She had to finish her degree, and she couldn't leave her mother. It was that simple, and that hard.

"I love you," Mai whispered the night that they packed up Mai's apartment. "I love you so much."

Lyla held Mai's face in her hands.

"Don't be sad, Mai. You're going to Japan! You're going to the sea, and you're going to get paid to learn. You are going, and you will not be sad that I am not with you."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"The sea," Lyla said softly. "You'll be of the sea, Mai."

Lyla had driven her to the airport in the morning, and they'd sat in the car for a while, breathing in each other's breaths. Mai wouldn't let her come in, insisted that she leave as soon as Mai was in the airport.

"I won't let you pine after me, waiting for my flight to take off. Go home and go out, have fun with our friends, okay? I love you."

Lyla held Mai's face in her hands, stroking her thumb along the soft skin of her cheek. She didn't want to let go. She didn't want to see Mai step out of this truck, and disappear into the airport. They weren't sure when they would see each other, so they had agreed to break up. It was easier this way, even if it hurt the most.

"You know," Mai said then, muttering into Lyla's ear, "you're the best thing that that school ever gave to me. And out of everything I'm leaving behind, I am going to think about you the most. I'm going to miss you the most."

 Lyla tried not to think about Mai every day, and she tried not to think about Travis every day, but when she wasn't learning anything new, the thoughts of what she'd lost, the reminders of what had left her behind crept back in. Sitting in Blush's office, going over mindless paperwork, the thoughts crawled in and made itself at home inside of her.

 Louisa was weak after the hospital had released her, unable to take any more than a couple steps at a time. She kept her store, Blush Boutique, open with Lyla’s help, but she couldn’t even walk across it without leaning on her daughter. She went to physical therapy a few times a week, but it was clear that she wasn’t getting any stronger. Her hair greyed, losing its glossy sheen, and her eyes muted, the sparkle of confidence fading. Lyla stayed with her, making sure she was taking her medication and eating, but nothing was helping. She was watching her mother waste away in real time, and it was breaking her heart.

The day it came apparent that Lyla would have to move back into her childhood home, she’d called each office she needed to in order to leave school. It had been humiliating. There were a thousand offices for each part of being a student, and you had to verify and reverify with each one. Everyone was unerringly kind about it, wishing her mother a speedy recovery, and Lyla the best of luck, but all of their kindness just made her feel like shit. She was in her senior year, less than a year from graduating, and she was one of those people who had to drop out with less than a year to go. She used to mock those people.

“Lyla, Blush is my life,” Louisa had said the afternoon that she was released. Lyla was wheeling her out of the hospital towards the car. This is how Louisa started serious conversations, with her back turned. “I can’t lose it. I can’t let that dream be ripped from me, too, because of an accident. Please, Lyla, you’ve got to help me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it won’t be for long. Just until I get on my feet. Will you take care of the store?”

Lyla thought of the lab that she was missing that day, the third in a row. She’d emailed her professors to explain the situation, but there was only so much they could do before her absences stacked too high. She thought of all the information she was missing, and how long it would take to make up all of that work. She thought of the first grade when her father had died, and she’d missed a month of school straight because her mom wouldn’t take her. She thought of standing in front of her teacher, asking how she could make up her work and not be held back.

She had worked it out with Miss Mayhew that she would skip recess and after school activities to catch up. She doubted her professors would let her skip recess to make up missed lectures and lab assignments.

“I have to get back to school soon, Mom.”

“Lyla, please. You can always go back to school. I can’t re-open Blush.”

Lyla put the brakes on the wheelchair, and looked down at where Louisa had wrapped her hand around her daughter’s on the handles, eyes widening to get that prime amount of pout.

“I’ve worked so hard for this.”

Lyla didn’t point out the hours of hard work that she had put in at school, the internship hours combined with homework and holding down a job on campus as well. She didn’t mention the papers she stayed up all night researching and perfecting. She didn’t mention the extracurriculars she’d been taking on since freshman year; the tutoring center hours she put in as a volunteer, the clubs she was a part of, or the leadership positions she’d taken over the past four years. She didn’t mention them, because her mother wouldn’t hear them anyway.

“Okay, but only until you’re back on your feet.”

 Louisa never got back on her feet, not entirely. At some point while Lyla was keeping the boutique open, her mother started to neglect physical therapy. She didn’t take her medicine, and she didn’t return for her follow-up appointments with Doctor Potter or any of the specialists. She refused to even listen to Lyla when she brought up going back to get a checkup. She could stand, and walk across the room, but it exhausted her. Lyla could see it in the way her shoulders hunched forward as she braced herself on the plush backs of couches and chairs, in the shake of her knees, and the heaviness of her breathing. Lyla didn’t point out that physical therapy would’ve helped her relearn how to walk on her new coltish legs, but she wanted to.

So, while Louisa was sitting at home, not taking care of herself, Lyla drove every morning to Blush Boutique. She researched inventory and how to get a better deal on retail, and the hottest trends of the season, and how to draw customers to your store. She created a Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for Blush Boutique, and held sales to entice customers to stop in when they might have overlooked the store. She took out advertisements in the local Pennysaver, newspaper, radio, and at the old-fashioned movie theater downtown. She even hired a second employee for the dayshift in order to get paperwork done in the afternoon.

She grew Blush, her mother’s store. She put in the hours. She did the research. She learned about management, and tax forms, and how to run a business, from Google searches and YouTube videos. She taught herself how to run a store while Louisa sat home and pitied herself in her wheelchair that she didn’t even need. But every time Lyla tried to bring up going back to school, Louisa would turn mean.

“I’ve supported you through everything,” her mother sneered once, “even after what you did to your father, and you can’t even keep my life’s work going for a few months.”

It stung to hear her father thrown back at her like this.

Once a year she would visit her father's grave, kneeling before the sturdy headstone. She would bow her head and press a kiss to the cold stone.

"I love you, Daddy. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I should've been there."

She watched her mother struggle every day without asking for help. Lyla could go back to school, finish her studies, and then get a job somewhere outside of Montana. She would love the California coast, or the Gulf of Mexico. Sometimes, she even thought about finding a job out of the country.

Lyla thought of Mai in those times, sitting with a cup of tea, green with a hint of honey stirred in, at the research center in Japan, looking out over the sea. Mai sent letters to Lyla every couple of months, filled with information about her job and the things she studied. She sometimes sent small Japanese trinkets, or pictures of her with sea creatures. Lyla wasn't jealous of Mai, and she didn't wish her to lose her job, but she wished that that was her, that she would wake up the next morning and go to work at some place on a coast. Without fail, though, she would wake up in her childhood home, get ready for work, and drive to her mother's landlocked boutique. Instead, she was now sitting under a mountain of debt for a degree that she didn’t even have, and the sea was drifting farther and farther away from her.

[tujaluong-blog]

Books I Read This Year [2017]

Happy New Year everyone! My first article this year 2018 and on this blog will be 'Books I've Read This Year'. I hope you all enjoy this article and read some book you still haven't. :)

1. Me Before You by Jojo Moyes

This book, my cousin showed it to me. I didn't know what book was about and I started just reading the bookand I fell in love with it. It is very romantic and funny. Who still hasn't read It, it's about to start to do it! :)

SYNOPSIS

26-year-old Louisa Clark is a happy, outgoing woman who lives with and supports her working-class family. After losing her job at a local cafe, she is hired as the caregiver of Will Traynor a former successful banker and once active young man who became paralyzed after being involved in a motorcycle accident two years prior. Louisa has no experience but Will's mother believes her cheery personality will help lift his spirits.

2. Where the Rainbow Ends by Cecelia Ahern

I read this book real quickly because I wanted to read it before the film Comes out in theatre. Where the Rainbow Ends aka Love, Rosie was filmed in year 2014. This Year I read the book for the second time and still enjoying it. I read it for the time in english and this year I read in czech language. :)

SYNOPSIS

Where Rainbow Ends is a story told through letters, emails and instant messaging about the ever-changing relationship between the two main characters Rosie Dunne and Alex Stewart. Rosie and Alex are close friends from childhood but one day they are suddenly separated when Alex and his family move from Dublin to Boston. The book guides us through their relationship as it continues to change due to distance, new relationships and circumstances which seem determined to keep them apart. 

3. All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

I am glas I finally finished reading this book. It's about two young teenagers - Theodore and Violet. Theodore Finch, is young, depressed and near-constant thoughts of suicide. It is really interesting and beautiful book to read. :)

SYNOPSIS

Theodore Finch and Violet Markey are two teenagers who want to escape from their small Indiana town. Violet is a popular girl while Finch is the school loser. The only thing that would have ever brought the two together is that they both climbed the bell tower at school at the same time, planning to jump off the ledge. Finch is surprised that Violet is up there, because she’s a popular school cheerleader. But Violet has been dealing with the death of her sister, Eleanor, for which she feels responsible.

4. The Girl in the Ice by Robert Bryndza

I love to read detective books, thriller, killers, murders...all that stuff. I really couldn't stop reading this book. It is really great book and this year I fell in love in books by R. Bryndza.

SYNOPSIS

When a young boy discovers the body of a woman beneath a thick sheet of ice in a South London park, Detective Erika Foster is called in to lead the murder investigation.

The victim, a beautiful young socialite, appeared to have the perfect life. Yet when Erika begins to dig deeper, she starts to connect the dots between the murder and the killings of three prostitutes, all found strangled, hands bound and dumped in water around London.

5. The Night Stalker by Robert Bryndza

Another book I've read by R. Bryndza. I wasn't disapointed. This book is absolutely brilliant and now it's my one of my fave. Who love crimes/detective stories, this book is for you!

SYNOPSIS

In the dead of a swelteringly hot summer’s night, Detective Erika Foster is called to a murder scene. The victim, a doctor, is found suffocated in bed. His wrists are bound and his eyes bulging through a clear plastic bag tied tight over his head.

A few days later, another victim is found dead, in exactly the same circumstances. As Erika and her team start digging deeper, they discover a calculated serial killer – stalking their victims before choosing the right moment to strike.

6. Just One Day by Gayle Forman

This book is really romantic. I already liked the beginning in the book and the end of it. Book about love, travel, heartbreak ...

SYNOPSIS

Allyson Healey’s life is exactly like her suitcase—packed, planned, ordered. Then on the last day of her three-week post-graduation European tour, she meets Willem.

7. The Couple Next Door by Shari Lapena

Another thriller book, this time about married couple, their baby was kidnapped while they are on the birthday party at neighbour's, right next door. I definitely love this book. The plot twist in the end was very shocking for me.

SYNOPSIS

Anne and Marco Conti seem to have it all--a loving relationship, a wonderful home, and their beautiful baby, Cora. But one night when they are at a dinner party next door, a terrible crime is committed. Suspicion immediately focuses on the parents. But the truth is a much more complicated story.