#then I wake up and see that my cousin gifted me this theme!!!! I wish more people would use line with me

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Taiwanese people 🤝 Japanese people both knowing Line is the superior messaging app.

Why? Because I am still obsessed with all the stickers and themes on Line that I can’t use anywhere else.

Once again my cousin is single handedly (irl at least) keeping me in the fandom CAUSE LOOK WHAT I WOKE UP TO THIS MORNING!!!!

I could cry look at this theme!!! And I haven’t even seen the movie yet 😭😭😭 sorry Tinkerbell, but I had to change my theme to my ship

[mariellaolden]

My favorite holiday

By: Mariella Angela H. Olden (December 17, 2023)

Growing up, I have always loved the cherished traditions that mark the Christmas season in our country. While other nations celebrate Thanksgiving at the onset of December, Filipinos, including myself, start to build our Christmas tree at home as soon as the "Ber months" commence. Christmas carols would be everywhere, and Christmas lights would light up every house in the streets. No place in the world could come close to the Christmas spirit here in the Philippines.

During my childhood, I have always believed in Santa Claus. Whenever it was the 1st day of December, I would write letters to Santa. Color it red and green, and draw it with symbols of Christmas. I used to be artistic as a kid. I loved writing and giving letters. My parents would tell me I had to finish it as soon as I could so they could send it to Santa through the post office. On Christmas Eve, I sleep early with excitement because I know Santa will come to our house along with his reindeers afterwards. Each morning of Christmas, I would wake up with joy, seeing my wish come to life. It goes on without fail every year. It was then that I came to the realization, just like in the movies, that Santa Claus was, in fact, not true but rather a legendary figure, a Christmas character who served as a charming tale that made children believe in the reward of their wishes if they behaved well to their parents throughout the year. Well, as for me, I found out when I was ten that the real Santa Claus in my life was my father and my mother, who made sure to give me the material gifts such as toys I wanted and written in my letter, all in the pursuit of my happiness. I am forever thankful and grateful for them.

Being the eldest in a Filipino household, I grew up celebrating Christmas together with my extended family. We would set up our Christmas trees and decorate our homes with lanterns and Christmas lights. Attending every Simbang Gabi and completing the nine-day masses have also become a tradition. After the mass, our evenings were sweetened with the delights of puto bumbong or bibingka as dessert after dinner. Each year, we plan a specific theme, pairing our attires with it, and the chosen best outfit is awarded a prize. By the night of Christmas, we would play different games for children and adults. Another segment of the program is the performances of every family, which they prepared days prior. The highlight of the night is whenever we exchange gifts together. Much of our memories were made up of the preparations, the holiday foods, and the shared stories. Our family makes time to celebrate together every Christmas. For most, this is just typical. But for mine, it is one of a kind. 

As the year passes and another Christmas season approaches, a faint but deep ache of sadness settles in. Memories of our previous celebrations flashback, marked by the presence of every family member – parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, children, and the inclusion of some close friends. There's a noticeable difference between those treasured times and now. Even while most are still with us to celebrate this holiday, the absence of others creates a shadow that highlights the hole left by those who are no longer here to join us in our seasonal gathering. I missed them, and I missed celebrating Christmas with them.

As the song goes, this is the season to be jolly. The season of joy and a time dedicated to celebrating the birth of Jesus. Beyond that, for us, it also serves as a period of reflection to look back on all the events and experiences we've had in that year. As we approach the end of the year, it becomes a powerful reminder that we have conquered the challenges, and we look forward to the promise of a new year: a fresh start and a new beginning.

Now, in my adulthood, I've come to recognize that the true essence of Christmas is still there. It never left. Despite the absence of some loved ones I wish were still here with us, their spirit and unwavering love remain in our hearts. If someone were to ask me what my favorite holiday is, without hesitation, I would still answer them with a smile on my face: it is Christmas. My sentiment extends beyond our traditions but lies in the joy of sharing this wonderful season with my favorite people.

If I were given the opportunity to make a wish to Santa again, my wish would not revolve around materialistic things anymore. Instead, my heartfelt wish would be providence, continuous good health of our family, and, most of all, to relive the magic of Christmas, not only this year but also in the years to come, just like the old times.

***

Mariella Angela H. Olden, 18, is a Biology freshman at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines. She wishes to celebrate the holidays again with her family, just like the old times.

[yandere-society]

Day 11 | Santa Tell Me

Synopsis: You’ve always been strangely scared of Santa as a child. The thought of a stranger in heavy boots breaking into your home and rummaging through your stuff has always terrified you. And you felt that terror right now, in this instant, as you laid there with two men in bright green suits hovering over your pretend-sleeping form.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Vmin x Female Reader

Admin: @roses-ruby​​

Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, bad crack, attempted kidnapping, stalking, stupid jokes, joke about religion, swearing, bad mouthing Santa 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You really hated Christmas.

You hated everything that had to do with Christmas. All the sugary deserts, the unhealthy binging, the fake family bonding and seasonal depression longing. The freezing weather that froze your toes and pipes, the blinding red and greens, otherwise known as holiday delights. The overzealous consumerism around every corner, the empty materialism that gave everyone boners. The deforestation and self-righteousness, the ugly sweaters and proud religious mess. You hated Christmas and its warping spider’s net and all the very, merry, happy, holy, holly, jolly shit that went along with it.  

It wasn’t like you ever had a good Christmas to change your mind. When you were six, every girl at school had the brand-new light up Princess Dolly sneakers for Christmas but thanks to your skinflint of a dad, you got the direct knock off; Princess Polly sneakers. Polly with a PUH. They didn’t even fucking light up. To this day you get nightmares from the bullying. At 15, you got typhoid fever before the big ski vacation and while everyone else got to go have the time of their life, you were stuck rotting at home with your weird cousin Sigil who collected the dead skins from snake sheds. And just last year, at an unbearably boring office party, your ex best friend and crush made out under the mistletoe for 15. Whole. Minutes. Last you heard of them, they were engaged.

Let’s not even start about your irrational fear of Santa Claus. Every bad Christmas could be traced back to him. You cried the first time you heard your dad describe the bearded old man. Your reaction confused the hell out of him but to you, he was the strange one. What kind of parent allows an overgrown, capitalist bear man who dresses in red and brainwashes elf and reindeer to come into their home using the chimney and spy on their kids throughout the whole year? Was he a sadist? When you were younger, you would wet the bed just thinking of him stomping around your house in the dark. Safe to say, you never left him any cookies. Now, you’re just glad you grew out of the phase of believing in such a horrid creature like Santa Claus. Finally, you could sleep happy knowing that no one would sneak into your house in the middle of the night.

So, while we’re on that topic…who exactly were the two men whispering in the dark inside your room if it’s definitely not Santa?

“We have to quickly get back before he notices we’re missing. QUICKLY, Taehyung.”

“I know, I know. Let me just untangle this rope, Jimin.”

Who the fuck were Taeyoong and Jimmy and what the fuck were they doing in your house? That’s what you were thinking as you laid on your bed pretending to be asleep, absolutely still in the complete dark. Of course, you had a break in on the night of Christmas because why the fuck not. What made you think this one year, your Christmas day would turn out okay?

You were stuck even further because you lost the window of opportunity to wake up and startle the intruders and perhaps scream for help because since the moment they snuck in (3 minutes ago) you did nothing but lay there listening to their banter like the idiot you are. Maybe you could pretend all their ‘noise’ woke you up, but then again you weren’t too fond of your acting skills.

But honestly, who were they? What did they want? Why did they keep mentioning returning before this ‘he’ found out they were gone?

As you were pondering your crisis, someone blew straight into your ear. You shot up from the bed with a scream and immediately turned on the lamp beside you. Two men in strange green tunics and stockings, pointy ears, and tall hats with a bell stare back at you with an equally horrified expression.

They were dressed up as…elves?

“See, I told you she was awake.” The one on your right, resembling a small animal, possibly the bastard who blew in your ear, chirps.

“Wow, you really do have night vision, Jiminie.” The taller one behind the edge of your bed, the one holding a rope says, while staring at you in a daze.

“Who the fuck are you both? How did you get in? What do you want?” You shout, bringing your comforter to your chest.

All they do is stare at you with lovesick eyes to which you scowl. Hold on, why were your potential murderers so hot?

“_-___,” The one on the right calls you carefully. He had round and soft features with a sharp jaw. Slender eyes and bright pink hair matching his rosy cheeks on his otherwise cute pale face. “It’s an honor to finally meet you…my name is J-Jimin.”

“I’m Taehyung.” You turn to the man with the rope. His features were extremely well proportioned and downright lethal. A devilishly handsome face, beautiful golden skin and dark brown mopy hair. He appeared and sounded like a mature sugar daddy but stared at you like a 12-year-old pervert.

You sat silent after the two men’s greetings. What were you supposed to say after intruders introduced themselves? Nice to meet you? And how did they know your name?

“…O-Okay…Jimin, Taehyung…why are you in my house.”

“We’re here to kidnap you.” Jimin smiles, his eyes turning into crescents.

“E…Excuse me?”

“Yeah! We’re here because we love you and we want you for ourselves, so we have to take you from your home.” Taehyung says, stretching the rope in his hands.

“WHAT?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Did you perhaps start hallucinating after your edible once again? Because that would explain this crazy ass dream you were having right now. Since when did you have an elf kink though?

“So you see,” Jimin begins walking to stand beside Taehyung so now they were both in front of you, “We’re Santa’s elves. We were the ones assigned to watch over you, see if you were naughty or nice.”

“Pfft, you’re very naughty~” Taehyung giggles, blushing like crazy. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“And over the years,” Jimin continues, “We came to fall in love with you to the point of obsession. So now we want to kidnap you and take you to the north pole where we three will live in a polyamorous relationship and only me and Taehyung will get to be with you.”

“We’ll fuck every day.” Taehyung chimes in proudly, earning a smack to the back of his head from Jimin who mutters ‘not yet.’

“Ahahaha, what Taehyung meant was…of course any sexual relationship would be consensual. No means no, after all.” Jimin winks awkwardly

You just sat there, mouth wide open as your brain refused to process all the information that was just presented to you. So not only were your intruders dressed up as elves, but they were also clinically insane.

“I’m calling the cops.”

“W-wait! We can prove it to you!” Jimin jumps, rushing back to your side. “When you were 10, you really wanted a MayaMaya doll collection set didn’t you? You didn’t tell your dad about it because you thought he would get you the knock off; the Papaya doll collection. It was the first and only time you were okay with Santa coming into your house, so you didn’t even set the bear trap in the fireplace like you did every year.”

He was right. What the fuck.

“W…how did you know that?”

“We saw you.” Jimin says, eyes soft and smile tender, “You were wishing so earnestly that Christmas Eve, it almost made me cry.”

“W…wait so…Santa is real?”

“Of course.” They sang in unison

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, time out.” You huff, “He’s been real this whole time, yet he’s never gotten me what I wanted for Christmas?”

“Oh, my love.” Taehyung strides up and sits on your side of the bed, taking your hand in his. “It was out of our hands…we tried to get you on the nice list, but he could sense your bad vibes…also I’m pretty sure he was salty you never left him cookies. He is sort of petty.”

“So you’re telling me that hippy bitch Claire really did deserved that large purple dollhouse more than me?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, she hasn’t been on the nice list for a long time now…all she asks for are sex toys.” Taehyung stares off into the distance.

“How long have ya’ll been watching me?”

“We are supposed to stop once a kid doesn’t believe in Santa anymore...but we were just always rooting for you. Before we knew it, we were watching you way into adulthood...and then slowly we started falling in love with you.” Jimin blushes

“...Have ya’ll seen me-”

“Naked? No...but we really want to.” Taehyung bites his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe this…” You groan, placing a palm over your forehead.

“Hey now, Jesus didn’t die today for you to be full of despair.” The taller elf rubs your hand with his thumb

“No, you idiot. He was born today…I think.” Jimin tsks

“Oh…well the point still stands. Don’t be sad my love. We never want you to have a bad Christmas again.”

“Anyway, we should hurry before Santa notices we abandoned him. That ass-kisser Jin also tagged along so we don’t have to worry too much about our portion of the presents since he would love to show off how competent he is to Santa all by himself. We can just say we ran a bit late because some kid almost woke up.” Jimin tells Taehyung to which he nods, getting his rope ready.

Oh right, this was a kidnapping. You forgot.

“___, just stay perfectly still and we’ll easily load you into the bottom of Santa’s gift sack. That thing is huge, no one will notice but us.”

“Guys, wait.” You say to which they freeze. “Let me think about this.”

They look at you with pleading puppy dog eyes and you start to contemplate it. Should you go with the two elves that barged into your house and tried to kidnap you and possibly turn you into a sex slave?

…

What were the pros and cons?

If you go to the North Pole, you’d basically be stuck with everything you hate about Christmas all year round. But could it be that bad seeing how smoking these two elves were? They could easily keep you warm. Were all elves this hot? Wait…could Santa possibly be hot? Your mouth watered thinking about it. Is this an enemies to lovers AU after all?

Whatever it was, it was interesting and more importantly you had a lot of unfinished business with the man in red. You could see it now, forming a mutiny with all the elves. Killing Claus and taking over his empire. Then it would be you who rules Christmas and boy, do you have a few changes you wanted to make like the beginning of this story states. Finally, all your wishes will come true. This time you WILL get the light up Princess Dolly sneakers and MayaMaya doll collection set.

And so, with a sinister plot forming in your head, you smile at the two eager elves in front of you.

“Alright boys, let’s go.”

Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad after all.

[stories2you]

Forgotten Wish

Finally, I got the motivation to write a one-shot for Shaw’s birthday. But I rushed and lost quite a few points from the story. Do request if you want the moment when Shaw receives his presents. Well then, have fun having Shaw as your husband and baby daddy.

(Y/N) - your name (C/N) - child’s name

~~~

It was a bright and clear day. You had just woken up to a sight that you treasure. Seeing your husband sleeping peacefully after a tiring day at work. As stared at his handsome features, you heard the bedroom door creaked. You sat up slightly and saw your child, (C/N), peeking into your room.

You knew the little one was excited for their father’s birthday. Before they could jump on him, you ushered them out with your hand. You then got up from the bed slowly to avoid the sleeping man waking up. 

After tying your hair up into a messy bun, you walked out to the kitchen with your child on tow. The young child asked, “Mommy, why didn’t you wake daddy up? Isn’t it his birthday today?”

You crouched down to their height and smiled softly at them, “Wanna surprise him?” 

The child nodded happily. You knew you could make your mini excited just like that. You told them to wash up and get ready to leave. After they left, you dialed your sister-in-law’s number,

You: “Good morning, sister. Am I disturbing you?”

Youran: “Good morning, (Y/N). No, is there anything you need?”

You: “Ah… Are your girls free today?” 

Youran: “Yep, they are. All of us are free from schedules.”

You: “That’s great! Do you mind bombard my darling with some paperwork? I need something to distract him.” 

Youran: “It’s for his birthday surprise, right? No problem! I have a bunch to throw at him.” 

You heard your sister-in-law cackle playfully. Due to the theme of the new show, she needed help from Shaw regarding the antiques and anything about archaeology. It was a huge success. You were so proud of him. But as much as you wanted to spend time with him, throwing a bunch of workload at him on his birthday is a way to distract him.

After the phone call with the producer, you texted her your plans and her reply was an ‘Okay’ sticker of a bunny. You quickly prepared a simple breakfast for your family and went straight to your shared bedroom to wake that sleepyhead man that you love dearly.

“Shaw? Wake up. Breakfast is ready. (C/N) is waiting for you.” 

… 

Snore…

…

SLAP!!

“Wake up you pepsi coke mixed drink idiot!” You slapped on the back of his head. 

“O-ouch…. Lady? Is this how you wake your Baby Daddy up?” 

Another slap on the shoulder. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m off! Sheesh….” You giggled softly to yourself. Seeing your husband walking out with his messy bed hair. You took a short shower and dressed up for the day.

Once you were done, you joined your family. Shaw looked up and saw your outift, “Where are the two of you going?” 

“Going for shopping with our nieces,” You reply shortly. Before he could continue, you cut him short, “While we’re away, brother will stop by to drop your extra paperwork from sister.” 

The lavender haired man pouted, “Not again…” 

“Oh yes darling. You did well, so why not lend more hand. There’s another 2 episodes for this theme, am I right? Maybe you could do some plannings as well?” You suggest to him.

Shaw thought for a moment and agreed. Your heart beat slowly calmed down, glad that the man didn’t suspect anything.

- 11AM - 

A knock came by as you and your child were about to leave home. You opened the door and saw your brother-in-law and his two daughters. Alina and Aiyana’s eyes brightened as they landed their eyes on their younger cousin,

“(C/N)!!” The sisters hugged their cousin happily. 

The young child giggled and hugged their cousin in return. You smiled at the sight of the youngsters. You greeted your brother-in-law, “Good morning, Gavin.”

He nodded in reply. You pointed to the bag, “Are those the paperwork?” He nodded again, “Youran wants them done by evening.” 

You gave him an ‘OK’ sign and took the bag from him. You placed the bag in front of the unsuspected man. His eyes nearly popped out at the sight of the thick amount of paperwork. 

“Well then, honey~ Those are your work. Don’t worry about doing the housework. I’ll handle it when I return. Bye bye, dear~!” You chirped after leaving a small kiss on his cheek. 

‘Th-this… never mind…’ He crossed out his thoughts and went to the door to greet his brother. 

“Hope you have fun suffering in workload, Shaw.” Gavin smirked. The younger brother cursed him in his mind and gave him a crooked smile, “Yeah. I appreciate that, brother.” 

After you left home, you couldn’t help but ask Gavin, “Brother, has sister told you our plans? We can celebrate his birthday at the mansion, right?” 

The older man chuckled and nodded, “She did. She’s got Kiro to help her getting the simple decorations. She has some requests for you.” He then handed you a short list of ingredients.

You read the ingredients and saw a small note below, ‘Get some father’s day gifts too!’ 

You and the kids parted with Gavin upon reaching the main street. The sisters waved their dad goodbye and followed you inside the mall. 

- Timeskip -

After getting the ingredients, you told your nieces to bring (C/N) to get a present for Shaw and their dad,

“Use this card to buy presents for your dad and uncle, okay? Call me when you’re done.”

“Okay!” 

- With the sisters and (C/N) - 

The sisters walked around the mall with their cousin in between them. Aiyana had a thinking look on her face, “Hmm… We’ve already prepared a present for dad and uncle Shaw…” She looked down to her younger cousin, “(C/N), what do you wanna buy for your dad?” 

(C/N) thinks a little bit more and a their eyes shined brightly, “I know! Daddy loves old stuffs!” 

The sisters tilted their heads in confusion, “Old.. stuff?? Antiques? Ah! I know a place!” Alina beamed and dragged the two younger ones to an art shop. 

The shop had puzzles of old historical places, treasures, small wood houses of popular structures and more. The cousins decided on a wood house. They had a hard time choosing a popular structure and decided to go with the structure of the traditional house of (country). 

After purchasing the present, they requested the shopkeeper to help them wrap up the gift with the wrapping paper they got earlier. Alina dialed your number to inform you that they’re done with their present hunting.

- Huuuuuuuge timeskip (cuz im rushin this) -

Upon arriving the Bai Mansion, you quickly rushed to the kitchen to help Youran with the cooking. After almost three hours of cooking and baking, it was already half-past 5pm. You thought this was already the good time to call Shaw here.

Shaw answered the phone after three rings, “Are you coming home yet?” 

You: “No, but come to the mansion, dear. We’re waiting for you.”

Shaw was confused, but you cut him off before he could reply, “No questions. Come here at 6PM, okay? Bye bye honey~”

beep… beep… beep…

“O..kay..?” Shaw sighed and freshen himself. He was glad that he was able to finish up the paperwork that the demon producer had thrown onto him. 

He walked to the mansion. Greeted by the guard, he was let inside. Right when he set his foot inside his former home, (C/N) jumped on his back, 

“Happy Birthday, Daddy~!” 

Shaw let out a genuine laugh and pulled the child into his arms, “Thank you, (C/N).” He rubbed his nose to theirs affectionately. Soon, two sets of arms were wrapped around his waist. Matching amber eyes met his, 

“Happy Birthday, uncle Sharky~” The sisters grinned up to him.

He recalled the nickname they gave him when they were slightly younger. He gave them a smile and patted Aiyana’s head, “Thank you, girls.” 

After some greetings and singing the birthday song for him, Youran took pictures of Shaw and his family as the cut the cake. They all had a great family time. Shaw felt the tinge of warmth in his heart. The feeling to be able to celebrate his birthday with his family.

It was a small wish hidden away in his heart. He never expected this to come true. Being blessed to celebrate both his birthday and Father’s Day with his family. 

At the balcony, you spotted him watching the beautiful night sky. His eyes brimming with happiness. The kind of happiness you had never seen before. You continued staring at his shining amber eyes until he muttered,

“Thank you, (Y/N). For making my forgotten wish come true.” 

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist, “Whatever you want, I’ll do my best to grant it for you.” 

You snuggled further in his arms, “I don’t have a physical present for you. But…” You placed his hand on your tummy, “You have to wait for it to come in 8 months.” 

Shaw’s face brightened and carried you in his arms, “Another one?” 

You nodded, “Yes. Another.” 

Shaw placed you down and buried his face in your hair, “That was the best gift ever. I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Like I said above, I really rushed for this. If you want to know the moment when he receives his presents, you can request it to me. I’ll be writing another Shaw fic soon as well as a separate Father’s Day fic for Gavin and headcanons for the other 3 guys.

**Reposted from: @mayuarts

[daysswithyou]

See you

Characters: Young K x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Christmas themed!

Word count: 5.1k

Description: It's such a pity to part just like that, so I'll hope to see you again

Credits: @splendorten​ for giving me inspiration! And @hoodedsuns​ for the feedback! Also partially inspired by some events that happened to me this semester ^^

Prompt: Write something based on the last text you sent – was planning to meet a bunch of people after I got back from my trip to Japan and hence, “see you” :)

Author’s note: For the dearest @younghyuns-babygirl-24​, (Belated) Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you! This is my fic – for you – for the Christmas fic gift exchange. As requested, Young K x reader with lotsa tooth-rotting fluff! XD I hope you enjoy this fic and in the new year, I wish you all the best in pursuing your dreams and let’s love the boys more together!!!

------

You don't fancy night flights. At all. Sitting in a cramp seat with little leg room for hours on end and waking up to sore shoulders and dry eyes was not the ideal way for you to spend the day leading up to Christmas. But...here you were anyways, trying your best to get comfortable in your seat with your bag nestled between your feet. You send one last selfie to your cousin as a rain check, letting her know that you’re safe on the flight, and that she should expect you in a few hours’ time.

You lift your eyes to observe the hustle and bustle of the aircraft as the crew gets the passengers ready for take-off; securing the overhead cabin, handing out hot towels and attending to the comfort of the passengers. You would have enjoyed this all a lot more if it wasn’t a night flight. You watch as an air steward makes his way down the aisle to do his final check, before stopping right beside you and addressing you fully in Korean. You gulp as he carries on talking, finding it hard to grasp a opportune timing to interject and let him know that you don’t understand a single thing he just said. You have zero knowledge on the Korean language and the best you could manage to convey your lack of understanding was to shake your head at the air steward.

Very slowly, you said, “Sorry, I don’t understand anything...”

You bow your head apologetically as a sheepish smile makes its way into your face and the air steward matches your equally puzzled expression as he sucks in a breath, a little lost as to how to proceed when he couldn’t communicate with you in a language that you understood. A few more moments lapse as both of you stare at one another, the silence now heavy and awkward.

Just then, a soft voice comes directly behind you and you feel your chair tilt backwards slightly, most likely being used by the person behind to hoist himself up. You cannot comprehend whatever the fellow passenger said (in Korean once again) but it must be good news to the steward as he immediately bows, a smile breaking out on his face, stepping back to invite the fellow passenger to take the spot beside him. You look up to observe the tall guy from your seat and you were met with pretty almond shaped eyes that were gazing down at you, the sides of his eyes crinkling slightly as the corners of his lips lift up; a small smile as a greeting.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me interjecting but I’m here to help as a translator since I assume you don’t speak Korean and the air steward is having a hard time explaining due to the language barrier. May I?”

“Please do, and thank you.”

After listening to the air steward for a short while, the mysterious male breaks out into a smile as you continue watching both of them in bated breath; did you do something wrong? Were you about to be kicked off the flight?

Your fellow passenger turns his attention towards you now, a warm smile lighting up on his face as he rests his clasped hands on the seat in front of you.

“Miss, there’s nothing to worry about. He just needs you to place your bag in the overhead compartment for the take-off.”

“Oh… oh! Right, of course.”

You scramble to unbuckle your seat belt so that you could stand to place your bag in the overhead compartment, not wanting to bother the air steward and your fellow passenger any longer. Yet, he immediately reaches out for you with his hands, keeping you in your seat as you lift your eyes from the dull grey of the seat buckle to meet his chocolate brown eyes again.

“I’ll help you, since I’m already standing.”

He gently extricates your bag from its place near your foot before placing it carefully into the overhead compartment, shutting it gently with a click.

“Enjoy your flight!”

“You too.”

Your eyes follow him as he makes his way back, and you stay staring at him for a couple of seconds more as he settles back into his seat, your breath catching in your throat as you contemplate getting his name so that you can thank him properly. But your shy nature eventually wins over and you shut your mouth tightly, turning back to face the unlit black screen of the in-flight entertainment system. The screen lighting up to life pushes the last lingering thoughts of the helpful and friendly passenger out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the safety video currently playing on the small screen.

---

You wake up just in time to see the hazy orange cabin light up brightly with white lights as the captain makes the landing announcement and you see the same air steward walk down your aisle again to do a safety check. When you catch his eye, you bow your head slightly, your face heating up slightly from the embarrassment just a few hours ago. The landing and disembarking proceeds smoothly and on your way out of the aircraft, you get your first good glimpse at Seoul. The sun is shining brightly onto the grey concrete tarmac of the airport runway and staff continue to rush around to ensure a smooth flight – even more during the holiday season. Despite the early morning, the sun never misses its shift and continues to shine its radiant rays onto Earth, warming the cold Seoul in winter just slightly. The streaks of sunlight are so brightly that even through the tinted windows, you were forced to squint your eyes to protect your eyes from the glare, and you eventually had to rip your eyes away from the sun, white spots dotting your vision now.

Soon, you found yourself walking past the glass walls of Incheon Airport’s arrival gates and very quietly, you whispered to yourself – “Welcome to Seoul Y/N.”

Eyes glued to your phone screen and luggage in tow, you hadn’t realised that you had walked into someone, rising your head to quickly apologise – but – you didn’t have time to get a word in before the person you bumped into immediately started selling his taxi services to you. You shook your head politely to decline but let’s just say that he was rather… persistent… You were almost about to give up and just follow him but a presence stepping up to stand beside you stopped you in your tracks, your focus now on the newcomer.

It’s him again.

After another round of fluent Korean, the taxi driver finally got the hint to back off and he immediately turned his attention to the next potential customer, leaving you to deal with the friendly stranger from the flight once again.

“You weren’t really about to take the taxi, were you?”

An embarrassed smile shows on your face for him to see in plain sight as you shake your head at yourself, finding it hard to meet his eyes.

“I really was. If you had came a moment later, I would be on the taxi now.”, you said as you jabbed a thumb towards the black sedan parked just a few metres away.

“It’s really expensive if you take a taxi from the airport to the city. I know a cheaper way and I could guide you if you’d like me to. Where are you headed for?”

“Myeongdong!”

“Oh! What a nice coincidence, I’m headed there too. Here, I’ll lead the way but, ladies first.”

With an open palm, he gestured to the escalator on his right. With a soft smile and slight bow of your head, you took a step in that direction and he soon fell into a comfortable pace beside you, initiating conversation again.

“I still haven’t gotten your name yet.”

“Y/N, it’s Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Younghyun or Brian – I’m fine with both so take your pick.”

“Well then, Younghyun, thank you for helping me out. Twice.”

“No problem! First time in Seoul Y/N?”

“Yup, here since my cousin recently moved with her family and as part of her housewarming plus annual family Christmas gathering, she invited the entire family over to celebrate.”

“You came during the right season – every city always seems more magical in winter, and especially so during Christmas. Puts everyone in a good mood, mostly.”

“I agree with you on that.”

Eyes glancing down, Younghyun catches sight of both yours and his luggage and he chuckles, catching your attention.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realise that we have the exact same luggage, it’ll be really funny if we mix them up later.”

Swatting your hands in front of your face, you make a face as you exclaim, “Nah we won’t, let’s not jinx ourselves!”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Younghyun pats his cheeks as a “punishment” and you have to stifle your laughter behind your palm because that was such an adorable sight to see. Both of you continued your walk and even during your short walk to the airport express, you could already feel the Christmas vibes. Christmas songs were playing over the public announcement system and almost every inch of wall or glass was covered in colourful Christmas decorations. Wherever your eyes wandered, you’ll catch a glimpse of the familiar fern green as cherubic Santa’s and cute deer nestled within them, the colourful Christmas bulbs and fairy lights serving as the final pieces, completing the decorations to truly bring forth the festive season. The warm fairy lights bathe Younghyun in a golden glow, making the mood very comfortable and soon, both of you were engaging in conversation with ease. You managed to find out that he was home for the holidays, being a foreign student studying overseas in Canada for his undergraduate degree. His days are mostly packed meeting friends and family that he hasn’t seen but he’s given himself some free days to explore the city that must have changed since he’s been away. You try extra hard to focus on Younghyun as he attempts to speak louder over the roar of the train travelling through the underground tunnel, going closer sometimes just to hear him speak. The train rattles violently just before it exits the tunnel with an extremely loud whoosh and in a split second, sunlight floods the entire cabin, lighting up everything instantly, bringing Seoul and all its colours into sharp clarity. Your attention on Younghyun is broken as Seoul’s cityscape vies for your attention – your eyes are naturally drawn to the buildings coming in various shapes and colours, bare trees – though void of leaves – that line the pavements as they continue to stand tall. All of these zoom by before you can fully take in their details, your eyes capturing brief glimpses into the lives of Seoulites – children dressed in the same colour code obediently following their teachers, elderly walking their pets, and adults still rushing to work despite the frigid winds that are currently ruffling their hairs and outfits. You could almost hear the familiar click of heels against the tarmac in your head. As you continue admiring Seoul with your sparkling doe eyes, Younghyun leans his head against the metal pole of the cabin, silently observing you with a sweet smile, thinking to himself: I’d love to show her around the city. It’ll be a privilege to see her face shine with awe at this city.

You sneak a glance at him from your periphery, feeling the slow burn of his gaze on you. Nervously, you let out a chuckle as your voice dropped to a whisper, “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face? Must be the flight, my skin is dull and dry now.”

“No, you look fine Y/N. It’s just really nice seeing you enjoy Seoul so much.”

After hearing his statement, you crack a smile as you shyly meet his eyes, glad that he wasn’t staring just because you looked ugly and you watch as Younghyun gives you a grin so radiant that it could rival the blazing sun – showing neat rows of teeth and all.

---

The Myeongdong stop arrives much too quickly for either of your liking and the pair of you had to drag your feet out of the train carriage, both equally reluctant to leave the other. Younghyun wrecks his brain for more ways to buy time with you and even though the solution he comes up with is one that is so extremely cliché, it’s the only thing he can do.

“Hey Y/N, are you in a rush?”

“No, not really, why?”

“How about we get drinks? Neither of us has eaten anything since the flight.”

“Sure. What place do you have in mind?” You reply him almost immediately, and you had hoped dearly that he didn’t catch onto your overly enthusiastic response.

“Holly’s Coffee. It’s a chain store in South Korea, thought you might like to give it a try. Consider it a beginner’s introduction to Seoul.”

“I would love to.”

And that’s how you found yourself in a neat coffeeshop with a handsome black wooden décor, the smell of peppermint, roasted marshmallows and hot chocolate all blending to form a sweet smell and adding to the homely vibe of the place. You watch the Styrofoam “snow” rain all over the snowman in the decoration on display right beside the cashier, completely mesmerised by the neat white beads falling down in unison. You feel a light tap on your shoulder, turning your head to be met by Younghyun’s eyes.

“What would you like?”

“Oh! Oh gosh I completely forgot to order, sorry about that. I’ll have the peppermint mocha please.”

“Really getting into the festive season now huh?”

“Yup! I truly do love Christmas.”

“Me too.”

You’re about to open your mouth to make another comment but your phone buzzing in your pocket steals your attention away from Younghyun again.

[Mom]: Where are you? Your cousin is asking for you already.

[Y/N]: Holly’s Coffee in Myeongdong grabbing a drink. I’ll make my way to her apartment later.

[Y/N]: Sent live location

[Mom]: Your cousin says she’ll come and get you. Order your drink as a takeaway.

You chew your bottom lip, feeling conflicted at the sudden news. You felt bad leaving Younghyun alone, but you also knew that the rest of the family was probably waiting for you to start the party.

“What’s got you looking so nervous?”

“Sorry Younghyun, but my cousin is coming to pick me up so I don’t think I’ll be able to sit and talk. I’m really sorry at the sudden change of plans…”

Younghyun wasn’t going to lie – his heart sunk at the thought of you having to leave so early as disappointment thrummed within him like a dull ache. Yet, he didn’t want to make you feel any worse than you already did so he gave you a big smile, just to let you know that it’s really alright.

“Hey no worries, I knew you were here for a party so I assume the entire family is waiting now.”

“Most likely…”

“Don’t frown, it’s really alright! Smile a bit.”

Using his index fingers, Younghyun gently pushes the corners of your lips up, only retracting his hands with an even larger grin gracing his face when he finally sees you crack a smile. The barista calls for your number and the right at the moment when the cold drink reaches your hands, chilling your freezing hands further, you hear the jingle of the doorbell and the familiar call of your name by your cousin.

“Y/N! Let’s go!”

You whip your head back to look at Younghyun all flustered, not expecting your cousin to arrive so soon which gave you much lesser time with him. You couldn’t even give him a proper goodbye or exchange numbers, not with your cousin standing expectantly by the door, waiting for you. Likewise, Younghyun faced the same struggle. Your cousin was standing and waiting by the door – does he make her wait longer as he gets your number? Or let you go now with a quick goodbye? He doesn’t consider for long and he lets instinct take over, going with the latter. Snaking an arm around your shoulders, Younghyun pulls you in gently into his side – a quick half hug as a parting greeting. Albeit shocked, you quickly recovered your senses to drape an arm around his waist, drawing him close by hooking onto his waist.

“Bye Y/N, it was great meeting you and enjoy your Christmas party!”

“Bye Younghyun and you too! Erm… whatelsedoiwanttosay… all the best for your studies in Canada and enjoy your trip home! See – ”

You catch yourself just before the word slips out of your mouth – were you ever going to ever see him again? Thankfully, Younghyun doesn’t seem to have heard, and the conversation flowed naturally again.

“I will.”

You quickly detach yourself from his side, cheeks burning now, aware that your cousin is watching this interaction with a teasing glint in her eyes. You’ll have to deal with that later in the car but for now – you content your heart by taking one last good glance at Younghyun’s face, not knowing if you’ll ever see him again. Hands clasping onto the cold drink tightly, you turn around to face your cousin, wheeling your luggage behind you as you leave Younghyun behind. After you get strapped into the passenger seat and the car moves off down the streets of Seoul, the expected barrage of questions come from your mischievous cousin seated right beside you.

“So… who’s Mr Handsome? Spill the beans honey~”

“His name is Younghyun. Met him on the flight here and he also brought me safely to Myeongdong via the subway.”

“OHHH~ Love is – ”

“No no, don’t get your hopes up in the air, nothing is going to happen. I’m just a tourist in this land.”

“You never know~”

You roll your eyes at her statement, she’s still ever the idealist with her head up in the clouds, dreaming of the impossible. But – why – does your heart sink a little when you shot down her idea of getting together with Younghyun? Were you really considering dating him when you had just met with no way to contact him? You stare at your open hand as you contemplate that thought – the same hand that wrapped around Younghyun’s waist just minutes ago – and warmth floods your cold body in gentle waves as your fingertips tingle, sending a light shiver down your arm. Your chance encounter with such a bright and friendly individual made the cold frigid winter warmer now.

If fate will allow, let’s meet again Younghyun.

---

You collapse onto the bed in the guestroom face first, not minding the fact that you were still wearing the same dirty clothes for the past 24 hours. A long flight, being passed around from relative to relative for small talk and a couple of glasses of beer, wine and dessert wine later, you were all ready to pass out. Blinking your eyes to clear away the tears from your umpteenth yawn that night (or should you say morning), you catch sight of your turquoise luggage. Leaving it unpacked was irking you out, so with much effort and a loud groan, you pushed yourself out the bed before shuffling over to unpack your luggage. When you first opened the luggage, you didn’t think much of the contents until you began pulling out clothing that were much too big for your body.

Did my clothing magically expand?

Flipping on the room lights, you finally were able to get a good view of the contents and your eyes widened to the size of saucers, eyeballs nearly popping out of your sockets. The luggage was full of male articles – belts, sweaters, pants and a shaver all sitting in plain view further confirmed your suspicions – you had really switched luggage’s with Younghyun; likely on accident during your haste to leave the coffeeshop. You immediately sifted around his clothing, searching for any way to contact him and – thank the heavens! – you found a small piece of paper in one of the zipped compartments bearing his name and number. You dialled the number quickly with nimble fingers, chewing on your nails nervously as you brought the phone up to your ear, desperately hoping that he had not changed his number. After 2 rings, the call finally got through and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hi, this is Y/N, right?”

“Yes. Younghyun?”

“Yes, you got the right man. I was wondering when you’ll call me about the luggage mix up.”

“Sorry it took me so long, I only realised now as I unpacked. When would it be a good time to meet tomorrow? Or do you need the luggage now?”

“Tomorrow would be fine – I rather not have a lady like yourself travelling the streets alone at such a late timing. Where would it be a good place to meet you?”

“Oh, I was planning to tour Apgujeong, would that be alright for you?”

“Apgujeong sounds good! Does 12pm sound good?”

“That sounds fantastic, thank you Younghyun.”

“Welcome Y/N. Rest well, you sound tired.”

“You’re absolutely right. Have a good rest too Younghyun. Nights.”

“Nights Y/N.”

A few more silent moments pass over the phone, neither of you wanting to be the first to end the call. You hear his slow and steady breathes over the phone and it sounds calming. A sense of peacefulness washing over you, a welcome respite from the whirlwind of activity that you’ve experienced today. Your eyelids start to flutter close, and you think you might be able to fall asleep listening to the sound of his breathing if the call drags on any longer. Younghyun finally breaks the silence with a chuckle, his next words bringing to mind the conversation from earlier today.

“I really jinxed us, didn’t I?”

“Jinx is too strong a word, I’ll just say you accidentally spoke it into existence.”

“I really did, silly me. So… goodbye for now?”

“Goodbye – for now.”

Younghyun ends the call first and you’re left listening to the dial tone before you put down the phone, placing your head in your unoccupied hand as you chuckle to yourself. Fate really does have a sense of humour, bringing such a twist to your wish to see Younghyun again. Glancing to the open luggage beside you, you sigh at yourself for making a mess of his belongings, standing up to pack his clothes neatly. Lifting one of his coats up, a piece of paper flutters out of the black pocket and upon closer inspection, you realise that it’s a ticket – for the lighting festival at the Garden of Morning Calm. Dated for 27th December. The date and place sparks off a thought within you that has you scrambling for your wallet, lifting the ticket out to confirm. You bring both tickets up to the light to compare them side by side, you realise that you were right – Younghyun and you had brought tickets to the same event on the same day. You didn’t know what you should do with this new-found information but if you could be brave tomorrow… something good might blossom.

You tuck both your tickets neatly into your wallet, praying for the heavens to grant you some bravery tomorrow.

---

Ever since 11.50am, Younghyun had been waiting outside the Apgujeong station, nervously tapping his feet against the pavement. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to see you again, but a part of him was also happy that he got to meet you again – although he wished it had been under better circumstances. A soft tap on his shoulder brings him out of his thoughts, and the moment his eyes land on you – the one he has been thinking of since yesterday – his cheeks naturally lift up, showing off the round apples of his cheeks. He blinks earnestly, taking a good look at you. Your cheeks are tinted a soft rosy pink – most likely from the cold – and you’re wrapped in a beanie, scarf and winter coat that made you look like a snug and warm dumpling. Younghyun has to try his hardest to stifle the squeal that threatens to escape him because of how absolutely adorable you look. How can someone have such an influence on him when he barely knows you? Your cheeks change from pink to red under his adoring gaze and wanting to no longer be the centre of attention, you whip out his luggage from its hidden spot behind yourself before presenting it to him with a “Tadah!” Younghyun lets out a hearty laugh at your antics – can someone get any cuter than this?

“I made sure to pack everything neatly into your luggage, nothing will be amiss when you open to check today.”, you said, patting his luggage to emphasise your point.

“Aigoo, thank you for packing them neatly for me. Rest assured, your things are in good condition too. How was the party?”

“Oh, not too bad – the usual you know. Being passed around, getting questioned about life and my relationship status, and too many cups of alcohol. I’m still a little woozy now, not sure if you can tell.”

Younghyun makes a hum of acknowledgement at your words before silence falls over both of you again – this needs to stop happening so often.

What do I say to her?

Do I ask him now?

Aish let’s just do it now!

Both of you open your mouths at the same time, then it became a mad scramble to let the other speak first.

“Ladies first.”

“No no, you first!”

“Y/N.”

“Younghyun.”

Both of you fix the other with a pointed gaze but Younghyun eventually relents, going first.

“Ok ok, I’ll go first. Y/N, could I get your number? Just to… stay in contact you know?”

“Sure.” You sound confident with your swift answer but your shaky hands that take over the phone from his hands betray you and he watches as you punch in your numbers wrongly a couple of times, having to redo it again and again but he doesn’t mind – he gets to see a different side of you – albeit a clumsy one that he finds endearing. Once you’re done, you hand his phone back to him as he brings the conversation back to you.

“What about you? What did you want to say just now?”

Your face heats up instantly, the two thin tickets sitting in your wallet weighing a ton now as your palms start to sweat despite the freezing temperatures. Carefully, you take his ticket out and pass it back to him but you don’t let go, even when he’s holding onto it. Your tongue darts out to moist your lips, inhaling a deep breath to let the cool air numb your nerves and thoughts. If you didn’t think so much, you might be able to work out the guts to actually ask him. It’s now or never Y/N. Go for it!

“I realise that you’re also going for the lighting festival on the 27th. I am too… and I was just wondering if you would like to go together? It’s completely fine if you don’t want to – ”

“If you would like me to be there, I would be absolutely delighted to go with you.”

Your eyes widen at his statement – he was actually willing to go with you! Your eyes light up like the star on top of the Christmas tree, shining radiantly for him to see.

“For real? You’re not joking right?”

“No, I’m not. But I’ll go on one condition…”

“Oh… what condition?”

You wait in bated breath as Younghyun lowers his face towards, going so close that your noses are almost brushing.

“I get to call that a date.”

You let out a puff of laughter at his statement, the fog emitting from your mouth brushing over his lips as they pull back to reveal pearly whites behind that hazy curtain.

“Is that ok with you Y/N?”

“Yes, that’s alright with me. For a moment I got scared there, I thought you were going to ask me to give you my first born or something.”

“I would make a joke now but I’m afraid of scaring you away.”

“Come on, hit me with it.”

“Really, you don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, yes I do want to hear it Younghyun.”

“Ok here goes, but don’t dump me after you hear it! I was going to say that you wouldn’t have to give me your firstborn because it would be ours anyways.” For good measure, Younghyun winks at you and your hands immediately fly to cover your face, trying your best to hide the massive blush that was now bursting across your face and muffle your rambunctious laughter.

“See! I said you didn’t want to hear it anymore! Are you afraid of me now? Come on, show me that pretty face please?”

His hands come up to gently wrap around your wrists, tugging at them softly until you’re willing to put them down.

“You’re not afraid of me now, are you Y/N? I’m still seeing you, tomorrow right?”

“No, just mildly shocked. But I must say, that was a pretty well-timed joke. And yes, you’re still seeing me tomorrow Younghyun. You’ll need more than that to scare me away.”

“That’s good. So… I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll call you again to settle the details.”

“I’ll be sure to pick up.”

It seems like the conversation has ended but once again, neither of you make the move to leave first. You shuffle your feet, twiddling your gloved fingers. Likewise, Younghyun was also working up the guts to do something that he’s been waiting to do since yesterday – but it’s just so hard to break through that barrier. You share one last shy glance with Younghyun before deciding it was time to leave, hands reaching out to grip the luggage handle – this time, the right luggage. Seeing you make a move to leave jolts Younghyun into action, and he surges forward to gently catch onto your wrists, pulling you back to face him once more.

“Before you leave, can I give you a hug? I want to do it properly this time.”

You smile as you nod, opening your arms slightly to let him and this time, Younghyun’s arms wrap around your shoulders properly, bringing you close against his chest as your hands hang onto each side of his waist.

Softly, he whispers into your ear, “See you tomorrow Y/N.”

“See you too Younghyun.”

Despite exchanging greetings, his and your hands still remain locked around the other, both of you gently swaying together as the first snow falls over Seoul, the perfect start to your winter love story.

[hpdabbles]

Kindness and Remorse Part 4

“Harry, did you finish your homework?” Dudley asks while placing a plate of white eggs and extra crispy bacon- just the way Harry likes them- before his cousin. His parents have yet to wake, but that would change in half an hour or so. They always wake at seven-thirty, jump in the shower, come down for breakfast and then rush everyone into the car so they could drop off the boys at school and get to work.

Petunia takes a little longer to put on her make-up and iron out the wrinkles in Vernon’s suit jacket and her business skirt.

“Yes Ley, I did,” Harry said rolling his eyes fondly. He patted the star theme backpack near his feet.  “I even put it in my bag and everything.”

“You mock my worry but I remember someone forgot his math packet in his room the day it was due not too long ago. Which was half the class grade.”  He’s still sleeping in the smallest room and the cupboard is only used for storage now. As it should be

“You’re forgetful once and you never live it down.” 

“Ha ha. Eat up. Mother and Father will be down soon.” 

Harry grin at him before digging into his food, taking his time but not without taking a glance at the clock. Dudley knew he did it every morning just to assure himself that he had time to actually enjoy his meal. 

Not that he had to worry. The youngest Dursley always woke before anyone in the house, exactly one hour before his parents and thirty minutes before his cousin. 

This is enough time to make sure Harry has a balanced breakfast and make sure his cousin could do any homework he’s not been able to complete. His parents still tried to sabotage his grades, so the kids had to get creative to not allow him to fall behind. 

Thanks to this system, the pair of cousins were one of the best in their class. Not the top but definitely in the top ten at the least.  

It’s the only reason Dudley could force himself out of bed at six-thirty every school morning when he had never been a morning person in any of his lifetimes.  

“Can we have chocolate chip drop scones tomorrow?” Harry asked around his egg. 

“Sure. Mother has an event coming up soon so she won’t mind something sweet. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Sorry.”

“What did I just say?”

Harry giggles but mines zipping his mouth closed after stuffing a forkful of eggs into it. 

Dudley is glad he was able to convince his mother to join the Neighborhood Council two years ago. It took longer then he liked for Petunia to see the light but it got her out of the house and helped her husband make powerful connections. It also finally let her use that degree of business that she let rot away the first life-time.

Yes, it was only four times out of the week- longer closer to holidays or special events- and the pay wasn’t something to survive on but it gave her a purpose. Vernon was especially proud of her whenever she spearheaded events, always bragging that his wife was the perfect woman to anyone that was close enough.

She takes so much pride in her work and was actually good at it which surprised him greatly. If there was one thing Petunia liked more then winning the Homeowner's Garden Award it was organizing it. 

Not to mention the charity events she put together. Oh, but how she glowed under the praise she earns at the number of successes she was brought in for those events.  

It also meant she wasn’t around the house yelling at Harry all the time. For those four days, Monday to Thursday, she would have the neighbor Ms. Figg watch the boys as she didn’t get home until seven pm at the same time her husband did.

 Dudley was able to convince the adults to have her babysit them in his house, claiming the cats made him feel funny- which was true.  Something about her animals made his skin stand on end and even become somewhat itchy. His parents had taken him to a doctor but oddly enough he had not developed allergies.

Ms. Figg’s cats were the only ones he was effected by and he learned to avoid them as best he could. Thanks to the redness upon his skin he’s parents haven’t pushed for him spending too much time over the fence. By proxy neither did Harry.

Since his parents both worked, Dudley took it upon himself to start helping around the house without being prompted. This not only earns his parent’s adoration but also lessens the workload on Harry. 

They couldn’t expect him to clean something Dudley had already done so himself. Now the chores were evenly split between them, and when his parents weren’t around, he asked Harry to switch duties per week. This way no one was stuck doing the hard ones all the time. 

After all, it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Not that he liked cleaning the loo but someone had to do it, even if it was only biweekly his turn.

One chore he refused to trade however was cooking. Dudley didn’t care that he was the same physical age, Harry was much too young to be near the stove. He was too young when he was four and he’s still too young at age ten. 

He had to throw fits every once in a while but over time the kitchen became his domain. Dudley cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinners, spending too many hours before the telly watching those cooking channels with a notebook and pen. At least he can say his food was actually tasty. 

Life skills, his name is Dudley Dursleys, and he is owning you now.

His passion for the culinary arts was part making-sure-they-don’t-starve-my-cousin and part Hey-this-is-actually-fun. Harry has been his very happy guinea pig.

He’s going to miss the little guy. 

Only a few months left. Dudley thinks while turning the egg meant for his father in the pan Soon Harry will be getting his letter and he’ll be off to Hogwarts, where someone else will make sure he’s eating. 

Trying not to let the thought bring him down, the time-traveler takes a deep breath through his nose. Mentally chanting It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. He prepares his own plate after making sure his parents’ were done. He joins Harry at the table and stares at him.

The last four years have been better for his cousin. He’s still tiny but thankfully not overly so. Maybe a few inches shorter then Dudley now instead of the head height difference of before. The clothes they wear are almost the same size, with Dudley’s build being a bit bigger compared to Harry’s naturally lean body. 

Over the years Dudley took notice of Harry’s preference in clothing making sure to buy them before “getting bored” of the shirts or jeans after one wear or two. It was the closest he could get Harry to new clothes. The backpack Harry used was one he saw him staring at in the store and bullied his father into buying, then a week later bullied his mother into buying the plain black one he used. 

Dudley thinks Harry caught on to this years ago but his cousin has yet to say anything about it. Sometimes, he forgets just how clever and aware of his surroundings Harry really is.  

His glasses, on the other hand, were a problem Dudley couldn’t get fixed without getting into a screaming match with his parents. Which he did. But it had no effect. 

He tries as much as he can but some things he can’t make better. His cousin already knows his Aunt and Uncle don’t love him despite the amount of affection and care they shower onto their son. 

He claims it doesn’t bother him, but that leaves mental scars. 

It’s still emotional abuse.

“What?” Harry asks raising a brow.  “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“No reason,” Dudley says blinking his eyes dry.

“I think there is. You don’t just stare at someone like that for no reason.” Harry glances around before lowering his voice into a near whisper  “Did I do something, you know, weird again?”

Dudley tries for a smile. He lowers his own voice, not wanting his parents to hear him even if he knows their alarm clocks haven’t gone off yet.  “No. You didn’t do any accidental magic. I think that only happens when your emotions are out of control, or you focus hard enough. And don’t call it weird. It’s not. It’s a gift.” 

“I don’t know Ley.” Harry waves his fork a little, having developed the habit of speaking with his hands after seeing Dudley do the same over the years. “This doesn’t feel like a gift when I make papers flout every time I hum or when I end up on the roof trying to play a game of tag with Piers.”

“It’s just that you don’t know how to control it yet. Trust me, it’s perfectly normal.”

“Oh yeah? Name one person who can do what I can.” Harry challenges him. 

Fumbling for names and then realizing he’s not supposed to know these people yet, the de-age male scrambles to save his cousin’s feelings. “Um, well maybe we don’t know they can do it, but there has to be-”

“You see! I’m a freak!” 

“Don’t say that! You are not a freak! You’re just doing magic, and it’s by accident. You can’t help it.” 

Harry bites his lower lip, glaring into his plate before he deflates.  “I just wish I didn’t have magic. We don’t even know if it is magic, maybe it’s something sinister.”

“It’s not,” Dudley says firmly. “It’s magic. I know it.”

“How can you be so sure? You read it in one of your books?” 

“Yes.” 

Harry eyes him a little longer before shrugging his shoulder. While doing so there is a hum in the air right before Dudley’s eggs explode into his face.  

A startled gasp rings through the room seconds after the food splats onto his skin. “Ley, I’m so so sorry. I’m so stupid. I didn’t mean-I swear I didn’t think it would- I’m sorry!”

Laughing Dudley waves away his worries wiping his face with a napkin. “Oh don’t worry. Josh used to do this all the time.”

“Who’s Josh?”

“What?”

“You said Josh threw food into your face. Who is he? Is he bullying you?” Harry looks downright murderous at the mere notion that anyone would dare. It’s quite touching.

Harry has taken to being his defender against their school mates and while doing so earn their scorn all over again. Piers is the only other little boy he’s on friendly terms with. Sadly they were more acquaintances than friends since Piers did not want to gain the other kid's disproval for being too nice to Harry and his lame nerdy cousin. 

Since coming back to the past Dudley had gone from ruling the playground to being the kids’ favorite target instead. He doesn’t mind it too much, after all the insults they think sting is more adorable then painful and he finds that being the outsider gives him more time to read. He’s too mature for their taste, too odd with his boredom of games, love of the library, perfect manners, and chubby body.

He’s not fat, but he’s not thin either. To the kids in his classroom, the difference means nothing. 

School is a nightmare but this is mostly due to him being bored and if there is one thing he can’t wait for when Harry leaves for Hogwarts it finally being able to show his “bright” mind. Hopefully allowing him to finish his education quicker before he goes completely mad.

There are only so many “How many apples do you have if you give five away in groups of two” a man can take.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. Really, I’m fine.” He says smiling widely. His cousin doesn’t look mollified, opening his mouth to no doubt demand more information on  Josh.

Looking at the clock, he claps his hands before his cousins can insist. “Mother and Father will be up in ten minutes. Hush up, and eat your food.”

After a beat of silence, his cousin does as he’s told though he seems displeased. This means that Harry will be glue to his side for the rest of the day in hopes of seeing Josh and stoping him from bullying Dudley.

I’m really going to miss you, you little angel. Duddley thinks fondly. I’m going to miss you so much. 

An alarm clock goes off over their heads. Another day has officially begun.

“Popkins, darling, can you make Mama a cup of coffee?” Petunia calls down the stairs her voice laced with drowsiness. 

“Yes, Mother.” He yells back just as Harry finishes off his plate. The two clear the table, sticking the dishes into the sink, and Dudley pours his mother her coffee. He eyes the pile he needs to wash after school today, sighing to see that the dishes have somehow doubled since the last time he looked.

His mother pads down the stairs in her bathrobe, the shower starting to go as his father gets ready. This means he’ll be down in ten since he got to the washroom first. 

“Good morning Popkins!” Petunia says with a bright smile, rushing towards him with a hug and kiss. Dudley side steps the full hug, turning it into an awkward one-handed embarrassed. He can’t dodge her kiss sadly.

“Morning Mother. Your food is ready.”

“Thank you, love. It looks so tasty!” 

Harry slips into the background, throwing a look of envy at them before disappearing into the living room. Dudley bites back a grimace. 

These are one of the mental scars he’s worried about. What if Harry and he end up like Mother and Auntie Lily? Friends in their youth but turn bitter by jealousy, and their relationship broken beyond repair well into their lives. 

He can’t do anything about it. He can only hope. 

Dudley tries his best to ignore the lead sitting in the pit of his stomach as he places the plates on the table for his parents. He grabs his black backpack, and follows Harry into the living room, switching the telly on for some morning cartoons before school.

Harry offers him a smile when he stops on his favorite channel.

________________________________________________________________

The school year ends more rapidly then he thought possible. Before he realizes it sumer break is upon him. He eyes the calander staring at his birthday knowing that around this time Harry will be reciveing his letter. He doens’t know what to do with himself.

Over the years he prepared for the day Harry would go join his world again. It’s harder, however, then it was for when Daisy left. Maybe it was because, for her, he had to accept it as it was happening while Harry has an actual date. 

Or maybe it’s because with Daisy she arrived in peace times. Harry would not only be joining the wizardly world, but he will also be joining a war. It kills him to think he’s going to allow the boy to walk into a battlefield without being about to do anything.

Hell, Dudley can’t even warn him about anything. He’s not part of that world. He never will be.

Dudley didn’t know anything about the Second Wizarding War. The Harry of the future never spoke of his school days, his friends just as tight-lipped about it. Most of them didn’t like him enough to have a conversation.

George Weasley couldn’t even stand being in the same room as he. Once the older man had cornered him to hiss. “I was old enough to remember and understand what you put him through. Don’t think I’ll ever forget the day my brothers and I had to rescue him from your house, even if Harry does.”

George then spat at him leaving Dudley stun in the corner of the party wondering if he could gather his kids and run like he wanted to. He didn’t blame him. Instead, he thought it was nice Harry had in-laws who cared so much for him.

This memory does nothing to make him feel better about the war Harry would soon be apart of. Heavens it felt like he was sending his child to the front lines. 

There were books based on these years of course but Dudley only had to open to the first page to realize they were rubbish.

The author had thought Harry was raised fighting dragons, rushing on some daring adventures with lavished mansions and wealth ever since defeating the Dark Lord the first time. It had made him sick.

Wizards and Witches read books of Harry having the best life a young wizard could only dream of having, his fame sky-rocking with each and every ridiculous fantasy in his book series while his cousin was starved and abuse. 

How could he then, trust those books on the retelling of Harry’s Hogwarts days? I mean fighting a troll, finding the Chambers of secrets and sleeping with the entire Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams all before he was seventeen? Honestly who came up with such dumb ideas. Did the writers just pulled out papers from a hat, and slapped the name Harry Potter onto it to make it about his cousin? 

“Ley, we’re going to the zoo for your birthday tomorrow! Aren’t you excited?” Harry appears at his door, clad in his pajamas startling the blond from his mental ranting.

Harry is all but jumping in place, obviously won’t be able to sleep tonight until much later. He always comes to wish Dudley a good night before bed however so here he is. 

“I’m very excited.” Dudley tries.

“You don’t sound it. What’s wrong?”

“...I had a nightmare.” He settles lamely unable to explain the anxiety coursing through his body. Suddenly his bed shakes and flies into the ceiling with a swirl of silver sparkles. 

“Son!? What was that!?” Vernon screams from down the hall.

“Nothing Father, I just was jumping on my bed!” He calls back “Everything’s fine!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Really don’t get up. Everything fine!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers looking pained at the disrupted bedding. Luckily Dudley’s bed frame seems to be intact. “I don’t know why but it’s been getting worse lately.”

This is true. Lately, Harry’s magic has been acting up more than he thought was normal. Just today he somehow managed to burst three-light bolts, have one of Ms. Figg’s inflate like a balloon luckily out of her sight, and had their dinner exploded. 

Dudley had no idea why either. Neither Daisy or Josh was like this.

“It’s okay Harry.” He reassures not liking the way his cousin is curling his fingers into his shirt. “This is just a reaction to your emotions. Just try to stay calm alright? Nothing bad happened. Everything is fine.”

“If you say so. I’m still sorry. I don’t mean to.”

“I know. I promise. It’s okay.”

There is a long pause while the boys put the bed back as best they can neither sure how to point out that Harry’s magic is getting stronger and stronger with each passing day.

 “Want to sleep in here with me? I don’t want to be alone after my nightmare anyway.” Dudley asks once everything is settle again.

Bright green eyes still look unsure but his cousin nods. They have been sharing a bed for years now as Harry couldn’t crawl into his uncle and aunts bed after a nightmare, Dudley took it upon himself to be the one he could turn to during the darkest of nights.

They wake up before his parents meaning the adults are none the wiser. Just as they weren’t aware of all of the accident magic going on in their home. Both agreeing the adults wouldn’t understand. 

After Harry crawls under the blankets and the lights go off. Dudley can only hope they can keep the accidental magic a secret for a few more weeks more. Just until Harry can get the proper help he needs with his magic and he won’t have so many outbursts.  

“Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight Ley.”

Dudley doesn’t even remember the zoo too much, other than Harry hissing at the snakes -honestly why?- and the fact that all the glass of the reptile house faded away causing mayhem of terror as everything got out, it was a dull event. 

No, what really shocked and terrified him, was the day Harry’s Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived in the post. Dudley always got the mail once he finishes cooking breakfast so he was the first one to see the letter.

Along with another copy address to him.

“Well, Fuck me.” 

[phoenix43song]

My Reviews and Thoughts on Little Women and the Many Adaptations

To start off I have been reading the Little Women series since I was 8 I think, and I’ve been watching the 1994 version since I was 6. It wasn’t until recently that I finally watched the 1949 and the modern 2018 adaptations ( I watched the  BBC/PBS mini series last year, and I do re-watch it every now and then). I still have to watch the 1933 version, which I plan to do when I find the time. I have also been re-reading the books because I am excited for Greta Gerwig’s adaptation even though I am not a fan of some of the stuff she’s been saying about a couple of the characters (but some of my fears have been relieved! Yeah!). In this long post I will post my thoughts on the novel(s) themselves, Louisa, and the adaptations that I have seen. 

I will start with the one I am very familiar with: the 1994 version! I have loved this movie since the first time I watched it. It’s a tradition to watch it multiple of times around the Christmas season with my mom, and every now and then I will watch it whenever I feel like it. Since I graduated as a theatre and film student watching films and analyzing characters, their world, decisions, the themes and motifs have been really eye opening. I’ve been devouring books since I was a kid, trying to write my own novels, and I’ve made a couple of short films. When it comes to adapting a screenplay from a book there are a lot of decisions to be made: what to keep, what to cut, what to condense, does the order of things need to be changed, and what original creative content can we put in? 1994 is a really, really good adaptation of the novel, with some minor flaws, a questionable original content decision, and how the screenwriter and director put Louisa into Jo. The cinematography and music is gorgeous, the house looks lived in, and the whole atmosphere screams late American 19h century. 

The acting, for the most part, is right on character and Winona did such a great job as Jo! Trini did wonderful a Meg and I liked how we got more of Meg because she’s important too. Claire Danes was a fabulous Beth (though she looks older than 14; I always thought she was 16 or 17...), while Kirsten did a fun, spoiled Amy...but she did ham it up a bit too much at times. Samantha...I did not like one bit as older Amy. Laurie was great in the first 2/3 of the movie but once he hit Europe I didn’t like how they [tried] to develop his character. His romance with Amy fell flat, which I was sad to see. Gabriel was a really good Fritz...I just didn’t like how they made them date while Jo was in New York. I understand it because the proposal at the end of the movie makes it really romantic, but the whole purpose of Jo/Fritz and Jo falling in love was that she was blind to it: she falling in love with a man. They start off as boarding house neighbors, then student/teacher, which quickly turns into friendship of equals, and it’s not until Jo is at home missing Fritz that she begins to realize her feelings. And when Fritz comes to court Jo she blushes! Despite this I’m a sucker for romance and still love Jo/Fritz despite my feelings on the adaptation choices. Marmee and Aunt March were on point and I loved how the actresses were their characters. 

Now moving onto the 2017 mini series. I like this adaptation, and have watched it a few times, but there are things that just bug me and drive me crazy, and moments that I love. This is the only adaptation that does not have have Jo’s plays or the Pickwick society. I hate this and it was a poor adaptation choice in my opinion. This series really should have been at least 6 episodes and not the measly 3 that it was. Despite this the series did include moments from the book that either haven’t been adapted before, or it was just mentioned. I love how we see Beth get the courage to go to Mr. Lawerence to play the piano and their relationship. They really should have gotten a young Amy and an older looking Beth: the girls look the same age from episode 1 to 3, which especially doesn’t work for Amy. Maya did a good Jo and it’s actually impressive for her first screen role, but she did lack some of Jo’s qualities (she is way better as Robin in Stranger Things). Emily did a good job as Marmee. Anne was another really great Beth, and I have to say her freckles seem to give the character substance. Kate’s Amy was good but like Elizabeth Taylor in the 1949 version, she was not believable as young Amy. (I’ve heard Florence Pugh is amazing and a scene stealer but even if she can act like young Amy (and based on the clips she can), her womanly body will not let her be believable).

I like how Beth’s kittens made a lot of screen time (I love kittens!) and how they did the Hummel’s house: it was just like how the book described it. All of those little children did a great job at looking hungry, cold, and scared. Makes me wonder about Mrs. Hummel’s husband (I need to find that part and re-read it). I loved how the included Camp Laurie, Cousin Flo, and Laurie trying to kiss Jo. The wedding between Meg and John Brooke was sweet, esp Aunt March giving her the pearls. I crack each time I see Aunt March’s parrot (was that in the book? Man I haven’t gotten far into my re-reading of the whole book; it’s been awhile), and how we got to see how close Jo and Beth are. They tried their best in portraying Amy/Laurie, and Mark Stanley as Fritz: he was Fritz from the book! (He looks a lot younger without that bushy beard though; that’s the one thing about Fritz I can’t stand haha). It’s too bad that Jo/Fritz was so rushed in episode 3: their relationship and Fritz was barely developed. (Though they did include a lot from the book like the Weekly Volcano and Jo’s poem that brought Fritz to her). Laurie in general was not Laurie; maybe in the Laurie who wants to play all the time but that’s it. Not Laurie. 

Now onto the 1949 version. I fell in love with this adaptation, flaws and all. It was very charming, had some great acting, however a lot happened off screen, some characters/moments were rushed, and I can’t believe June was 31 years old! And that Elizabeth Taylor was pregnant. It doesn’t bother me that they made Beth the youngest because Margaret did such a fabulous job as Beth. I loved all other scenes, her relationship with Jo and Mr. Lawerence in particular. This is the only version I’ve seen where the sisters buy Marmee gifts with their 1 dollar bill, and I liked how it was  a surprise and quite moment. The actress who played Marmee was amazing and Aunt March cracked me up. I didn’t care for Laurie in this version either. And like I said with the 2017 mini series: they really needed to have an actress play young Amy. Elizabeth did a really good job, don’t get me wrong, but she definitely seemed way older. The hot Italian actor as Fritz was sure an interesting choice. I wish they would’ve just made Fritz Italian and just changed his name slightly (I believe Greta made Fritz French in her version since Louis Garrel is French), and I also wish he could’ve been in the movie more! Since he was close in age to June I just wanted to see them on screen more. Yes he doesn’t look one bit like Fritz in the book, and call me shallow, but I honestly don’t care in this version. Back then - and sadly to this day - Hollywood cares about looks. That’s why I love Mark Stanly as Fritz in the 2017 because he physically is Fritz. But still...anyways I am going slightly off topic. 

So. The 2018 modern adaptation. This should have either been a Hallmark movie or a Netflix movie. This movie should have never been released theatrically and that’s why it bombed horrible. I mean it bombed horribly in a lot of aspects and areas, but it does have some great scenes! It’s all in the detail. They have their castle’s in the sky for one. All of Jo’s plays and the Pickwick society and how it changed to be of a platoon. I just love the attic scenes in this movie. I also love how Jo is writing fantasy stories and a fantasy novel and it’s sad that she can’t be taken seriously because there are great fantasy novelists! Tolkien, JK Rowling, G RR Martin for example. That really bothered me. I do like how Fritz is an actual professor at a university and becomes Jo’s editor and mentor, how that develops into friendship, but to me the romance aspect of their relationship falls flat somewhat. I like how they had a younger Amy and an older Amy, but I honestly got confused at first because there were younger versions of all the sisters (and it’s unbelievable that three of them would look the same with the 13 year gap). This version did a flashback style so it will be interesting to see how Greta did hers. The editing for this movie was all over the place and chaotic. I didn’t like Lucas as Laurie one bit, I get how they would go to parties but I hated those scenes (it was a good wake up call for Meg though). Beth fell short in this movie and so did Amy to an extent. You don’t really get to know John Brooke, or even their Marmee all that much. And really, Marmee? In a modern adaptation they should’ve just stuck with Mom. I did like how Jo buzzed her hair off in support of Beth (there is a good graphic novel that came out recently that’s set in the modern world and there are few similar choices. There’s also a book called Meg and Jo - Amy and Beth will come out later next year - that makes some interesting choices to say the least when adapting the novel into modern times. Anyways...), and how they had their father over seas in the army. I honestly need to watch this movie again to really critique it, but I honestly think it could’ve been a great movie...the script needed more rewrites, it needed a director who knew what they were doing, a better editor, and honestly some better actors. The potential was there, it has it moments, but it fell. 

To conclude this rather blog like post (and kudos to all who have read the whole thing) I will take just a little bit on my views on Louisa herself and Greta’s version. Louisa didn’t want to write a book for children, and when she did she wrote a semi-autobiographical novel that she leaves on a cliff hanger. In my mind she meant to continue the story, but she wanted to see what the reader’s thought. She did put the story out of her mind for awhile, until the book had to go into reprints and she got hounded with fan mail and fans in general. Yes she didn’t want Jo to marry because she herself never did (from what I’ve read she did have one sided crushes and probably a few second romances that didn’t last long, but she also never saw herself as desirable; she comes across to be as maybe being aromatic asexual, demisexual, or bi). She was a bit of Germanophile, along with Europe in general, and that’s why from the first few pages of LW there’s German everywhere. Which this means that Friedrich Bhaer was probably planned in one way or another. Louisa never wanted Jo to be with Laurie because they were close like siblings and loved each other that way. Laurie thought himself in love with Jo, but Jo does bring up good points: they would quarrel and end up being unhappy because he honestly didn’t like her scribbling. Amy makes Laurie grow up and those two match each other perfectly. Fritz is a perfect match for Jo because he treats her like an equal, he helps with her writing, and she gets to be apart of a society she loves. 

I have been relieved from my fears (for the most part) about how Fritz will be portrayed and the Jo/Fritz romance. We do meet him right away since we start in the present before going back and forth between past and present until the timelines match up. Greta is the only person to adapt the New Year’s Dance, which I am really excited to see. I haven’t been told if Fritz’s nephews are mentioned or seen. I know he gives her advice, but not if he teaches her his language (which I assume to be French in this version), that they do get into a fight, and that he comes to court her at her house. I was worried the umbrella proposal scene was going to be changed, but I’ve been told it’s in and it’s romantic. And then there’s Amy/Laurie! I am so glad that this relationship seems to be fully developed. I can’t wait to see everyone as their character and how Greta did the back and forth. 

I am worried though about a few things: how if one isn’t familiar with the story they get confused at first with the back and forth, some of the costume choices, the acting in certain scenes, some scenes or moment being cut or condensed for time because this is a movie not a mini series, and I just wish that Fritz - Louis - could’ve been in the trailers more with more promotion. I understand why...at least Louis understands his character. Greta mentioned something that Fritz basically had to be a prize to be won and oh boy: no one is a prize to be won. And putting a lot of Louisa into Jo...I’m worried about that. Sure the 1994 version had  a Louisa quote that Jo’s says about voting, but this seems like it might be too hammered in. I guess once I see the film I will finally know (and write my review and thoughts), because I can read all the critic reviews, interviews, Q and A’s I want but it’s up to me on whether or not I’ll like it or love, and I sure hope I’ll love it. 

The is the end. Thanks for reading. Let me know your thoughts. 

[charliedoyleloves]

Well. Here he is. The new F/O I hinted to a little while ago.

The Tag will be “otp: sweet strategy”. tagging @insertofalord​ who listens to the ridiculous number of OP AUs I have and tries to force me to not make them so angsty in the middle. it will never work, but at least there will always be a happy ending

To start this up, considering it was an Arranged Marriage, I’ve done up the Wedding Questions for him! This does exist in an Au, which is tentatively named the “Sweet AU”.

During the time skip, I work with a should be Queen reclaim her throne from the World Government. As I work as the tactician and commander of her army and gain a reputation. During this time, Charlotte Linlin decides that she will help us if she marries a child of her into the royal family. The Queen is not excited about the idea until she remembered a technicality. Being that I’m the Royal Commander, I need to be recognized as a member of her family. So dubbing me her cousin, she put me as the member to be married. The idea being that both members on the throne should be from “our” country, to indicate our independence.

In order to try to keep myself out of a marriage, I pick the strongest Marine Base that I could and told the Charlotte family that only whoever could take over the base could be my spouse. If no one does it within a year, she becomes an ally without a marriage. While the rest of his siblings failed, Katakuri went when they started to make snide remarks that even he couldn’t do it.

However, my cousin notes that not marrying into her family will make Linlin see us as a threat.

Questions and Answers beneath the cut!

Proposal

1.) Who proposes? Technically, it’s me. In a round about way. Someone in his family was going to marry me no matter what, but he was the one who completed the challenge I set for my hand. When he completed it, we were engaged. Because it’s him meeting my standards, his mother is insistent that it means that I proposed. This is a social tactic, knowing that it would make it more awkward for me to go against the marriage. Not that I would, considering my word is my gold. I said I would marry any who met my challenge, so I will. 2.) Where do they propose? Upon taking the Marine Stronghold that I decided to be the challenge, I keep my word. I accept that I’m to be married to Katakuri. So, it ends up being right on the top of the stronghold. Our men are around us, and his are cheering for the moment when I say it. 3.) How do they propose? Is it romantic, or casual? The way I propose is Official. It’s me resigning myself to the fact that I need to be his wife to keep my men down there safe. I tried to look happy about it, but stoic was the best way I could do it. Specifically, I realized that this entire thing was going to be a performance. So I played it up, for his men and his mother. 4.) Were you/they surprised by the proposal? Neither of us are surprised. When he was planning his raid on the base, he realized why I chose this one. The only thing that has ever gotten in and out of this base was air. He knew, both because of logic and his observation haki, that his plan would succeed when he asked for my help. 5.) What does the ring look like?

It was chosen by him, made by his home’s finest jewelers. It was as much away to show his countries skill as it was to make the engagement official. 6.) Planning on a long engagement or a short one? Short engagement. Lowkey, the wedding was being planned before we were officially engaged. This is because of Linlin’s confidence in Katakuri, and his assuring her that his plan would work.

Wedding Planning

1.) Is there a theme for the wedding, or a color scheme? I suppose the closest theme is “Sweet Fairytale”. It’s not so much by my choice, but rather the choice of his home. He’s a Minister in the government, and very well known and respected by his people. (And Feared). The wedding was much more for them than it was us. The both of us would prefer to have a small ceremony and paperwork to make it official. The color scheme became Pink, Magenta, Silver and Royal Purple became the color scheme. It was a combination of his personal colors, my color (grey) and his position.

Like this.

2.) Who does most of the planning? Or do you share the workload equally? There are official wedding planners in Linlin’s employ. They handled the planning while we were taking the fort and returned to his home. 3.) What are the two of you going to wear? I have no sort of control over what I wear. Instead, it’s designed by Linlin’s people. However, upon hearing that I didn’t want a white dress, they went crazy. It’s still a princess style cut, but much more crazy. Almost cupcake like.

Katakuri does end up wearing a suit, though he forgoes the tie for his scarf. 4.) What does the cake look like? Or are you going with a dessert other than a traditional wedding cake? Being that this is a Charlotte family wedding, the cake is extreme. Like, It's big as fuck so Big Mom Linlin can hopefully get full from eating it. Even if for a bit. It was pink as hell, with a lot of sweet decorations to top it off. There was a solid Desert Buffet, during which Katakuri pocketed most of the donuts. Unfortunatly, most of it was too sweet for my taste, so I only took a bit of the donuts and some of the bit of dark chocolate there. 5.) Is it going to be a big or small wedding? Who’s on the guest list? It was a big ass wedding, considering Katakuris family makes it nearly seventy people on their own. While the ceremony itself was just his family, plus my Cousin, her girlfriend, and a few of my higher ranked soldiers. The reception, however, was wild. Both of our armies. The people of Whole Cake Islands. The extended Big Mom Pirates. It was basically a national event, as one of the Sweets Commanders married a technical “Princess" and commander. The reception happened in a city square, where people have traveled to wish us luck in our relationship. 6.) Who have you chosen for best man? Maid of honor? Other bridesmaids/groomsmen? Oven and Daifuku were his best men, supporting their elder triplet. While he wanted to be fair to his other siblings, the other two Sweet Commanders were also his Groomsman and woman out of respect of the military feel of it. On my end, my cousin acts as my Matron of Honor, and the commanders of the army and navy who work under me are my brides men. They both showed up in uniform, while she showed up in a simple gown.

The Big Day

1.) Who’s walking you/them down the aisle? Being in what is technically enemy territory, it’s a member of his won family who walks me down the aisle. However, the one who gives me away is my “cousin”.this is less about her being my family and more about the political implications of the marriage. She is literally giving me to the Charlotte’s for the safety of our people. 2.) Do either of you get emotional when you see each other at the altar? No. While to the people of Totto Land it looked like a picture perfect wedding, it was very emotionless. My cousin cried, out of relief that it was finally done, and a few of Katakuri's siblings did as well. But the both of us knew why we were there. This was a political marriage, not one made from emotions. 3.) Does anyone in attendance object to the marriage? If so, what happens? No, despite my trying to get someone to come to do so. Katakuri swore that if I could get someone who loved me true and marry me in his place, he would step down. However, since I failed in that requirement. 4.) Did you write personalized vows? Can we hear/read them? No. Our vows were the… cookie cutter ones from Totto Land. They are standard Christian styled vows said in front if a priest. 5.) How do(es) the best man/maid of honor speech(es) go? Funny? Serious? Sweet? The speeches are respectful and serious. All the humor and fun is outside the banquet hall, where the people are. In there, however, it takes a bit for the party to ramp up. However, its still just Katakuri’s family who get hype. He, myself, and my “family” are all a little dour because of what the marriage means for each of us. 6.) How’s the first dance? Fun, romantic? It’s awkward as hell. Tho, I do try to make it less so there is the major problem that I am only up to his knee. He ends up having to scoop me into his arms, me sitting on the crook of one while his other hand basically engulfed my hand. It ended up just being an awkward swaying.

Post Wedding/Married Life

1.) When's the honeymoon? Where are you going for it? While we go on an official honeymoon on his ship, it’s a very relaxed affair. We’re trying to get an idea as to how our relationship will work. We keep to his private quarters, with the crew given instructions to leave us be unless entirely needed. The trip is going  from Whole Cake Island to his home, though the long way around so it takes about a week. 2.) Get any good gifts from your guests? Mostly just sweets and stuff made from sweets. The people of Totto Land are obsessive with the stuff. As well, I get a few pieces of furniture like vanities, with a piece of soul so it’s alive. It’s… disconcerting… 3.) What’s it like waking up married the next morning? It’s awkward. While we are in the same room, he refused to sleep on his bed the first night. Instead, he slept in a large armchair with his trident by his side. Being that he’s over three times my height, I have a separate bed beside his where I slept. Being used to sleeping with soldiers and crew mates, there’s no trouble for me to go to sleep. He seemed worried that I was going to kill him in his sleep. It takes a while for him to get comfortable around me. 4.) Is being married an adjustment, or does it feel completely natural? It’s an adjustment. He’s the one who needs to adjust more, despite being the one who expected to marry soon anyway. While I’m used to living in close proximity to people, he isn’t. Even when he was younger, he had his own space because of his appearance. 5.) Were you living together before you got married? Or even before you got engaged? We were not living together. All of my (very few) things were moved onto his ship during the reception. I am dwarfed by his presence in my new home, even when he’s not there. It does not help to make me more comfortable around him or his family. 6.) Will you make a scrapbook of your wedding/life together to look back on one day?We do not have to. An official one was made by the wedding planners. We have a large one (a little too small for his comfort and much too big for mine) which is ours to keep, and his mother has one as well. There is an edited one for public viewing in the Totto Land Records Building, if people want to look at it, alongside the rest of his family’s edited wedding albums.

[trouvelle]

Emogust 27.08 — Seeing Red

A/N: Praise the Maker and all things good for this Labor Day weekend!! Written for Emogust 27.08: Seeing Red. @mintchocolateleaves @sup-poki Yep I’m still here :’D Warning: multiverse / multiple dimensions, character death, sexual themes

Aoko’s face reflects horror as she falls.

Kaito watches her disappear amidst dust and darkness as something sucks Aoko into another place, another time, another space. He extends his hand and she reaches for him. Kaito feels triumph in his veins when Aoko’s fingers brush with his.

He curls his fingers, expecting to feel solid flesh underneath them.

Kaito doesn’t.

He screams and then—

nothing.

Aoko falls and Kaito almost rips space and universe in agony.

Φ

Kaito snaps reality with a crook of his fingers. With a wisp of smoke, he feels the world—his world—righting itself again around him.

“This is not healthy anymore, Kuroba,” Saguru berates him. He’s standing tall in his all black military-like outfit, his blonde hair standing out. He seems like he’s been waiting for Kaito. The water fountain behind him is calm, but Kaito knows Saguru can make it explode anytime with his will.

He walks briskly away from it. “I don’t care,” Kaito retorts back. He makes it a point to keep his shoulders square and head up.

“She’s gone,” the blonde stresses.

Kaito turns around and he fists the shirt Saguru is wearing. He curls it around his fingers and he can see the other man swallowing, but not flinching away. His eyes strays to the side. He’s afraid, Kaito knows—most people are, of him. But Saguru is one of his best friends, and they’re the only ones who are not afraid of him but for him.

“You will never understand,” he says through gritted teeth.

Shadows and light obey in the wake of Kaito’s overwhelming emotions and he reaches to the deepest part of him, the one that he treasures more than anything, to find a voice and a touch belonging to the most important person in Kaito’s life.

Reality rights itself again when he lets go of Saguru’s shirt. The other man dusts himself off but Kaito can clearly see the remnants of anxiety with the way he  adjusts his clothes.

There’s still the telltale disturbance in space and time. Everyone knows that Kaito can destroy every other universe if he so wishes.

Kaito has almost done it with his grief alone.

Φ

Kaito lazily strolls around the park with an arrogance he wears so well. He’s well-trained not only in the gift of space but the art of persuasion. Men like him, he’s been told, are made to rule the world.

“Slow down,” a voice complains. Kaito’s demeanor drops completely as a genuine smile breaks free.

“I’m sorry,” he coos. He makes a show of bending down to tap her plush thighs. “I forgot that you have such short legs, Aoko.”

Aoko scowls at him and she pounds Kaito with his fists. Kaito fake moans but Aoko’s tiny fists barely hurt him. He exaggerates being hurt, clutching his stomach near the area she has jabbed him.

“You really know where to hurt,” Kaito mock scowls. Aoko shoots him a large smile. 

He cannot help himself. Kaito leans down to kiss her on the lips gently.

Aoko splutters.

“Baka! We’re on a mission!”

The red on her face is endearing and Kaito is reminded once again that he has loved this girl ever since he’s nine years old.

Kaito’s 27 now and, in two years, he’s going to be in love with do Aoko for two entire decades.

“I love you,” Kaito helplessly whispers. “More than anything and anyone in the infinite universes.”

He is staring into Aoko’s eyes as he says that, but he also certainly saw the flare of red in Aoko’s cheeks. She returns his declaration with a passionate kiss, before abruptly ending it and running from him mischievously. 

“You know can’t run away from me,” he playfully threatens before he disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

Φ

There is an infinite number of universes. Time exists in a sequence but also in snapshots. Kaito doesn’t know how to properly explain it himself but he knows it like second nature, the way people know they have to breathe even without knowing how about the exact concept of lungs and oxygen.

These universes, Kaito can travel to them in a snap. He discovers this when he’s fifteen, realizing that he cannot just move within their universe but to others as well. That’s when he knows that everything is made up of infinities. Their world is a collection of multiple infinities—small infinities creating a larger infinity that is also one of many and so on, and on, and on, and on, and on…

His favorite universe, aside from the one they’re in, is another one where Kaito is a thief with a knack for magic. He has a pretty good career, he proudly told Aoko. The Kaito in that universe is hell bent on looking for Pandora gem, the infamous gem that’s said to grant its possessor immortality. 

Little did the other Kaito know that the Pandora gem is not even located in his universe. It’s safely guarded by their people, right here in their universe, never to be taken away and misused.

Φ

He moves across and through time and space like particles and energy waves, leaving only dark matter.

People fear what they do not know.

Kaito is the chasm by which the universe spins, the fissure by which the existence of everything has made sense.

He is an anomaly.

Kaito is a singularity—perhaps the singularity.

And if the universe revolves around the tips of Kaito’s fingers, then Kaito himself revolves around Aoko.

Φ

Aoko’s head is lying on Kaito’s chest and her index finger draws lines on his toned pectoral.

Kaito raises his eyebrows and he wiggles around. Aoko takes the hint without spoken words so she rolls on top of Kaito’s naked form. She nestles both her legs in between Kaito’s and their bodies, unclothed like the day they’re born, are pressed together. The heat is comfortable even if the sticky sweat isn’t.

“Really,” Kaito deadpans. His flat voice is betrayed by the way his hands automatically move to cup Aoko’s bottom. He kneads the flesh lightly and she sighs, content, before she pushes back hard to make him moan.

She kisses Kaito on the mouth and murmurs against the man’s plush lip, “Maybe later.”

Kaito smirks as he returns the lip lock with more ferocity. When they are done, he maneuvers them both, pinning Aoko’s thin wrists on the bed, “Why not now?”

When Aoko walks with a limp and a sore throat the next day while Kaito is all around her like a leech, everyone knows why. 

Φ

“Kuroba.”

A figure walks inside the training room and Kaito ceases the abuse of the dummy he’s using as a stationary sparring partner. He wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, turning to his visitor with an unamused stare. 

“Kudo,” he returns it with the same tone.

The man sits on the bench beside the ring as Kaito jumps the small height with no effort. Shinichi tosses his water bottle to him and he catches it with a deft hand, uncapping and thirstily drinking the liquid.

Once he finishes half of the drink, he turns to his cousin again. “Why are you here?”

Kaito drops beside Shinichi on the bench. the training room is quiet not because it’s in the secluded part but because no one dares come in when Kaito’s inside. Not after…

“Not that I mind, no.” Kaito chuckles a little but the mirth is chased out of it. Shinichi abhors training like this, preferring to hone his ability rather than his muscles. Kaito is the same, for he never once steps in this room before. This room is usually reserved for Kyogoku and Hattori, because the former has to work his strength-related power in here and the latter well, simply likes punching. But nowadays he finds punching the dummy doll relieving too. Like he’s releasing his pent-up frustration. 

“Well,” Shinichi shrugs. “I have a change of heart today.”

Kaito sighs, feeling tired and knowing already why Shinichi is here. “If you’re here to talk to me about Aoko,”

He eyes Shinichi out of the corner of his eyes, the man not moving even an inch of his face.

“No,” he answers slowly.

Kaito leans back, crossing his legs. “All right then.”

Shinichi exhales and it’s as good as an agreement as any.

“They’re right, Kaito,” Shinichi mumbles.

Kaito tenses up, not wanting to fight his cousin, whom he has considered as his best friend. “They’re not.”

Shinichi turns to him and Kaito returns the stare. Shinichi might have more experience, hell—he has even gone through something of the same. Call him inconsiderate, but Kaito is not backing down.

“Accept it.” Shinichi hisses. “How are you so sure that Aoko is not dead, Kaito?”

Kaito sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“I am.”

Shinichi scoffs at that but underneath, Kaito can see the hurt. Shinichi is undoubtedly drawing from his own personal experience. But hey, everyone gets to grief differently, okay? Kaito just chooses not to.

“We all saw her disappear,” Shinichi mutters. “She fell, Kaito. What makes you think she’s still alive somewhere—stuck in some other universe aside from ours?”

“I just do,” Kaito insists and his voice breaks at the end. Suddenly, his shoulders deflate and he feels the anger bleed out of him, only replaced by the rawness of hurt. He takes a shuddering inhale before speaking again. “If she’s dead, Shinichi, I would know. I would feel it, deep in my bones.”

He sees Shinichi’s eyes widen and his mouth opens but before he can say anything, Kaito adds in shattered whisper,

“I would know because a part of me—a large part of me would die with her.”

P.S. I blame it on the quantum physics class I had to take last semester O.o And I hope it’s acceptable that Kaito isn’t metaphorically seeing red but simply.. literally. 

[lovemesomesurveys]

Let’s start off with some basics. What’s your name? Stephanie. How old are you? 30. What’s your hair and eye color? Brown eyes and naturally dark hair (I dye it red, though). How tall are you? I’d be like 5′4. What’s your relationship status? Single.

Alright, enough of that. Let’s move on to the random shit.

What’s your favorite song? I have a lot of favorites. I could never just choose one. What does that song mean? What is the message behind it? Is it your favorite because you relate to it, or do you just like the beat? Both. Like I said, I have many favorites. Also, a song can be a favorite for the memories attached to it. Have any pets? If so, what are they and what’s their names? I do. I have a 2 year old German Shepherd/Lab mix named Princess Leia.

Have you ever met your idol? I don’t consider him my idol now, but in high school I was a big fan of Drake Bell and I got to meet him twice. If so, were they nice or were they kind of an ass? He was very nice. What’s your favorite method of gaming? (PC, Xbox, Playstation, etc) Nintendo Switch. If you’re in college, what’s your major and why did you pick it? I graduated with my BA in psych a few years ago. How’re you doing today? Today was alright. What color are your bedroom walls? They’re white. Describe your favorite shirt. All my graphic tees. I have a pretty big collection going on. Use this space to tell someone off. Nah.  What’s your view on smart watches? Cool or a waste of money? I personally don’t see the need, but I guess for others it’s convenient.  What is one poster that you have hanging on your bedroom wall of? A water color painting of a giraffe I purchased at a crafts fair. How many times have you moved in your life? Only once I’m old enough to remember, but I think maybe a total of 4 times. If you moved, do you like where you are now better than where you were? We literally moved next door to where we lived before lmao. The landlord was remodeling this one and wanted to do the same to ours, so they offered for us to move into this one when it was finished. What’s your favorite color and why? Pastels, dusty rose, coral, mint green, and yellow. They’re aesthetically pleasing to me. Do you have a calendar? If so, what’s the theme? I just received my new Alexander Skarsgard calendar for 2020. This really sweet person online makes them and sent me my first one a couple years ago and then reached out again to me recently to see if I wanted another, which of course I did. Have any famous person’s autographs? Drake Bell, Jamie Lee Curtis, and Jim Carrey.  Do you draw well? Nope. What type of cell phone do you have? iPhone XR. Should you be doing anything else right now or are you just bored? I don’t have anything else I should be doing. If you’re in school/college, what’s your favorite subject and why? Are you a cat or a dog person? Why? Dog person.

Tell me about the plot of your favorite book. I have many favorite books. I’ve told ya’ll, I suck at choosing favorites. I just can’t possibly choose one. Do you wear glasses or contacts? I wear glasses.  What do you think about horror movies? I enjoy them now, which is something I wouldn’t have said like 4 years ago. I’ve just really gotten into them.  If you love them (I do), what’s your favorite? Okay, okay here’s something I can pick a few top faves for: It 2017 and It Chapter 2, the Halloween movies, and the Scream movies. Got any cool Christmas presents picked out for family or friends yet? Yeppp I’m actually done with my Christmas shopping already, which is shocking for me.  Do you do Black Friday shopping or wait for Cyber Monday? I do both. My Black Friday shopping is done online, too. Many stores have had Black Friday sales going on for weeks and extended through the weekend. Cyber Monday sales are going on all week as well. It’s so much better doing it online. No crowds or chaos.  Have any mental illnesses? Yes. What’s your favorite word and why? *shrug* What is the most expensive thing you own, and what is it? My laptop. Did you buy that item yourself? No, it was a gift from my dad. Where do you work and what is your postion? I don’t. How often do you cuss? Rarely. What type of car do you drive, if any? I don’t. Are you happy with it? If no, what’s your dream car? Do you have a lot of social media accounts? Which ones? Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat.  What is your favorite genre of music? I like variety, but according to Spotify my top 4 genres are: Pop, hip hop, rock, and r&b.  Does your family have holiday traditions? If so, what are they? For Thanksgiving we have Thanksgiving dinner and for Christmas we decorate the tree together and put up decorations, have Christmas Eve dinner and then watch A Christmas Story (TBS plays it for 24 hours straight and I like to keep my TV on the channel all night so I fall asleep and wake up to it), and opening presents Christmas morning with A Christmas Story on in the background. When I was a kid we used to drive around town looking at all the lights and decorations. If you’re in a relationship, are you happy with it? I’m single. How long have you been with your significant other? Do you like psychology? (It’s my college major). I do. I majored in it as well. What is something your state is popularly known for? I feel like people associate California with Hollywood and celebrities, and beaches.  Do you like to do craft projects? If so, what’s the coolest thing you made? I like the idea of doing them haha. I wish I was crafty and creative and had the inspiration and motivation to do them. Do you watch sports or do you think they’re overrated? I’m not into sports. What’s one occupation you think gets paid too much and doesn’t deserve to? Hmm. Do you straighten your hair? I haven’t in years. Ever dyed your hair a color that isn’t natural? (blue, pink, etc) I dye it red. How’s your relationship with your parents? Great. I’m really close to my mom, she’s the best mom and also my best friend. Do you still live with them or do you have your own house? I live with them. What’s something you are currently saving money for to buy? I’m broke now after Christmas shopping, but I don’t care. I love buying gifts for my family. Next month I have to start saving up for my vacation.  Do you smoke/vape? If so, what brand do you smoke/what device do you use? No. Ever done drugs? Just weed. Tell me one of your worst habits. Biting/picking at my lips and picking at acne and scabs. What’s a weird quirk you have that no one else you know does? I cook my Ramen for 6 minutes, alternating between stirring and not stirring. Like one minute I stir, the next minute I don’t, etc.  If you game, what type of headset do you use? I just play with my Nintendo Switch. I don’t use a headset. I’ve never used a headset while playing any game console. What type of computer do you own, and do you like it? I have a MacBook Air. I love it. What’s the thing that annoys you the most? I’m such an irritable person. Sometimes it can be any little thing. What brand of TV do you have? Phillips Roku TV. Are you excited for Christmas? (It’s December 1st today when I made this) I love Christmastime. Tell me about your favorite vacation you’ve taken. Disneyland trips, beach trips, mountain area trips, and the trip my family and I took to visit my grandpa in Idaho one summer. My aunts, one of my uncles, a lot of my cousins, my mom, brother, and I all took the long road trip to go visit my grandpa for a week and we had the best time. It meant even more because he suddenly passed away just a few months later. :( We had no idea it would be our last time.

Tell me something cool about yourself. Lol there’s nothing cool about me. Did/do you get good grades in school/college? I got A’s and B’s.  What’s your ringtone on your phone? Just one that came with the phone. I didn’t choose it. What’s your favorite store to shop in? Target, Hot Topic, Boxlunch, and Kohl’s.  If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would buy and why? I’d have to pay off my debt first and foremost. I’d pay off my parents and brothers’ as well. How long have you had a Bzoink account? I don’t have a Bzoink account.

Ever been to Field of Screams? If so, what’s your favorite attraction? Never heard of that one specifically, but I’m guessing it’s one of those things with like haunted hay rides, haunted houses, and people in scary costumes that jump out at you and whatnot. Those kinds of things are not my thing. I love horror movies, but I’m not about people jumping out at me and giving me literal jump scares. Nooo thank you.  Do you own a Polaroid camera? No. Do you have hardwood floor in your room or carpet? Carpet. It’s a Saturday night, what are you typically doing? Same stuff I do everyday. Do you have a lot of friends or do you not have any at all? I don’t have any. That’s completely my own doing. :/ What’s your all time favorite movie and why? I have too many. How many blankets do you sleep with at night? Just one.

What’s the last TV show you watched? Did you enjoy it? KUWTK. Do you prefer cable TV or do you use Netflix? I have stuff I like to watch on TV and I like using streaming devices. Disney+ has been my latest obsession.  What is your dream job and why? I don’t have one. :/ Do you think you would be a good therapist? No. What’s your favorite brand of clothing? I don’t have a particular favorite brand. Did you like this survey? It was fine.

[awake-and-strange]

This obituary by Janis Ian about Anne McCaffrey is very A Passion for Friends:

There've been so many mentions of Anne McCaffrey in the post below, I thought to post this homage I wrote for Locus Magazine when Annie died. I miss her, a lot. I kept a few of the most precious books she gave me, but last time I opened one I burst into tears... I feel fortunate to have loved someone so wonderful, to have been loved in return, and to miss her this much. From Locus Magazine: THE MASTERHARPER IS GONE "I have a shIelf of comfort books, which I read when the world closes in on me or something untoward happens." —Anne McCaffrey I miss her fiercely, more than I have any right to miss her. I remind myself of this whenever I run into her at the library and am stricken with tears. She was not kin, was not connected to me by family ties, not even a distant cousin. Not even Jewish. I have no right to miss her this much. And once in a while, when I chide myself for my silly sentimentality, the sudden lightning that pierces my heart gives way to a duller, deeper pain. One I can live with, perhaps. Like today, waking to a terrible cold, with headache and foggy brain I reach for solace. Put on my red flannel comfort shirt, add my favorite PJ bottoms, then a pair of  fleece-lined slippers. Make my favorite tea, cover myself with an old patchwork quilt, and reach blindly for a book on my “comfort shelf.” Of course. I can’t escape her. Hours later, still miserable, I finish "All the Weyrs of Pern"  for the umpteenth time, and scold myself for the tears that fall – first, because she is gone, and second, because I never really succeeded in telling her just how much she meant to me. I’d never heard of her when I stumbled across for "The Ship Who Sang" at my local library. I wrote to her, saying that it had moved me profoundly, wondering how a prose writer could have such a clear understanding of a musician’s soul. Being one myself, I said, a musician that is, and would like to send a copy of my last record in gratitude. She responded with a laugh that she had never heard of me but oh my, her children had, and could we trade books for recordings? And so, we began. I raced through everything she sent – such generosity, so much that it took two large boxes to ship it all. She, in turn, told me that while she appreciated the beauty of my “Jesse” and the clarity of “At 17”, she was writing her current novel to the beat of my one disco hit, “Fly Too High.” I laughed aloud because it made an artist’s sense to me – dragons flew, and Anne flew with them, regardless of the beat. It was the third or fourth email that she began with the salutation “Dear Petal,”.  Petal. Me? I responded that of all the things I’d been called, no one had ever dreamed to name me “Petal”. She answered briskly that obviously, they’d never seen me bloom. From that day forward, I was her Petal, and she my Orchid. We corresponded ferociously, both all-or-nothing no-holds-barred types, Aries to the hilt. Weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Dropped out at times when one of us was “on tour”, came back to it as we could. The time passed. Her beloved agent died. My parents passed away. She got a scathing review; I sent a few of my own. She was stuck on a chapter, I was stuck on a verse. We got unstuck, stuck again, and through it all we talked, comforting one another as only a “good hot cuppa” can. She picked me up herself in Dublin, leaning on a cane, nervous to meet in the flesh until I ran into her arms and smothered her with hugs. She drove between the hedgerows with complete abandon, a total disregard for ruts or speed limits, while I clutched the seat and wondered who’d get the bigger headline if we crashed. Annie, I decided, for she was truly a two-column, bold print kind of gal. By then, she was always “Annie” to me, or “Annie Mac”. My larger than life friend, who consorted daily with dragons and starlight, her own luster never dimming  beside them. Once, after she showed me the rock cliffs of the Guiness Estate and explained that Benden Hold looked just like that, she asked if I would write a theme for it. For the movie? I said. “Yes”, she said, “A theme. Because if Menolly came to life, it would be with your voice.” I say this not to brag, but to indicate the trust between us – such trust that when I got home, with no film in sight, I began sketching out some notes for “Lessa’s Song”. I wanted it to be haunting, the way her words haunted me. I wanted it to be sweeping, like the thrust of dragon wings. I wanted it to be everything I could bring to her, a gift for someone whose words took me out of my world and into hers. As she said herself, “That’s what writing is all about, after all, making others see what you have put down on the page and believing that it does, or could, exist and you want to go there.” I hope someday to finish that melody. I hope it’s good enough for a MasterHarper to sing. I hope she regarded me worthy of the title. Because that’s what she was for so many of us – the MasterHarper, singing in prose, songs that reminded us of where we’d been, and what we could become. She came and stayed with us in Nashville, bringing a broken shoulder and trusting me to care for her. We visited Andre Norton, Annie insisting I not just drive but sit with them and listen to “a bit of gossip”. These two women—one writing at a time when pseudonyms were necessary for a woman to get published, the other cracking the New York Times bestseller list with, of all things, a science fiction book, and by a female at that!—talked of publishers, rumors, scandals old and new, while I sat as silent as an unopened book, wishing I’d thought to bring a tape recorder. At first, as her health declined, she bore it cheerfully. “I’m bionic now, Petal, complete with metal knees!” she declared. “Better than ever, and no pain.” She kept to her writing schedule, doing what she could to help her body retain its youth. Swam every day, bragged about her granddaughter’s accomplishments at school – “First prize, don’tcha know!” and commiserated over our various surgeries. We sound like a couple of old Yiddishe mamas, comparing whose surgery was worse! I laughed, and she laughed along with me. Neither of us reckoned on the psychic toll. “Old age is not for the faint of heart,” she quoted, as her energy began to leech away. How is it we artists always forget just how hard it is to write? how much work it is? How can we ignore the vast psychic drain that accompanies every act of creation? We both knew it from her Pern books, when going between enervated even the hardiest of dragon riders. But somehow, we never expected it in “real” life. It’s only when we lose that effervescence, through age, through illness, through sheer attrition, that we realize how necessary it is to our work. How fundamental to our beings. “I can’t write.” She confessed the shameful secret to me not once, but dozens of times, as if repetition would prove it a lie. At first, playing the friend, I tried to reassure her. Then don’t! Take some time off, Annie. Restore your body, and the brain will follow. Talent doesn’t just disappear, you know – it lies in wait. But she knew better. “I'm still not writing.  I think I know how Andre Norton is feeling, too, because I suspect that she's finding it very difficult to write, as the wellspring and flexibility that did us so much service is drying up in our old age. And no false flattery. AT 76 I AM old, and she's in her nineties.   It takes a lot of energy to write, as much as it takes you to keep on adding flavor to your song presentation. Sorry to blah at you but you're one of the few people who does understand the matter when an artist questions their output.” I responded in kind. "No worries talking to me about not writing... I sure as hell know the amount of energy it consumes. Every time you sit down to write, it's a performance. Only you don't have the luxury of props - no lights, sound, other actors to step behind when the inevitable fatigue hits. Heck, Annie, I'm feeling it more and more now, and you've got a quarter century on me.  I notice it mid-show; two hours used to be a piece of cake. Now I feel myself flagging at 45 minutes, and I really look forward to that 20 minute intermission, if only so I can have some water and sit for a few minutes. "Same with writing, for me. Used to be able to sit and write for 6 hours at a stretch. Now I'm good for two if I'm lucky. Part of it's my back, but most of it is - I fear - just that I'm older. It sucks." And she wrote back. “Must write. There are IRS problems. You wouldn’t believe. Mouths to feed, people depending on. Advances already spent and gone. Must write.” And so, she wrote, but for a while there was no joy in it. Still, I loved what she wrote, and told her so. I was proud of our friendship, not because she was so damned famous, but because she was so damned good. She even used my name in a book – Ladyholder Janissian in Skies of Pern – and roared with laughter when I admitted I’d been so wrapped up in the story that I hadn’t even noticed. But she knew – as artists always do – that while her ability to plot continued apace, the actual writing of it was becoming an endurance contest she couldn’t hope to win. “Turn more of it over to Todd,” I argued. Her son had a real knack for a sentence, but it was hard for Annie to let go. Of course. What artist can? “His words may not sing the way yours do – yet. He doesn’t have your lyrical grace – yet. But he will, Annie, you’ve just got to let him breathe!” I said it and said it and said it, to no avail. Then came a day when, 25 years younger and an ocean away, I finally lost patience and angrily berated her. “Damnit Annie, quit complaining and just stop! By God, you have created a mountain of work, an incredible legacy that will endure and be read by zillions of people long after both of us are gone – so quit whining about what you cannot do and start looking at what you have done. It’s time, Anne. Take this unbearable weight off your shoulders and stop!” I sent the email off and waited for her response, fearing I’d gone too far. A day. Then another. Finally, sure I’d lost a friend, I called to ask just how angry she was with me. Oh, no, not at all, she’s “in hospital.” She took a fall. She’d write soon. And she did, quoting me and saying “I knew you, of all people, would make sense.” A sweeter absolution I’ve never had. We continued our friendship, bitching about our bodies, menopause, the inevitable “drying up” of everything that comes with the feminine mystique. You cannot imagine the luxury, for me, to have a compatriot a quarter-century older. As an artist, I admired her work. But as a woman, I was relieved to have someone relentlessly honest about what was to come in my own life. We traded constantly. I sent her Lhasa de Sela, Sara Bettens. She sent stories about her animals, and the garden. One spring she changed my salutation to “Dear Crocus Petal – there are eight coming up now!” We planned  to visit Prague together in September ’01, but then came 9/11, and I chickened out. To be brutally honest, I was afraid to fly. Annie gently took me to task, then went off with someone else instead. I will regret that for the rest of my life. She went into the hospital for the last time while I was touring the UK – just a ferry boat and an ocean of commitments away. Knowing how out of touch she’d feel, how fretful she’d be, I tried to call every day. We fell into a pattern – I’d wait until I was in the van, then phone her up and tell an off color joke, a bawdy story, a bit of kindly gossip. Sometimes about people we knew in common, Harlan perhaps, or Scott Card, whose work she admired. Sometimes just a silly series of puns I’d found on line. Whatever it was, I wanted to make her laugh, because I loved to hear her laugh. She died while I was on vacation, just days after the tour’s end. I’d brought a copy of Dragonsinger with me because on vacation, I always brought a few “comfort re-reads.” I’d fallen asleep over it, waking to an email from Gigi. Please keep it quiet until I can reach everyone, she asked. My older brother Alec is still in flight, and we don’t want him seeing it in the paper before I can reach him. I called with sleep still in my eyes and heard the hum of people behind Gigi’s answering voice. It was fast, it was painless, it was everything Annie had wanted. No lingering. A “good death” for her. But not for me. It’s hard to open my computer knowing there will be no “Dear Petal.” It’s hard, after knowing such a warm and giving shelter, to go without. Sometimes I run across a sentence that sings to me, and jot it down to show her. And sometimes, when she leaps out at me from the cover of a book, I remember she is gone, and it hits me like lightning, fast and lethal and completely unexpected. It stops my breath, until I remind myself that she is gone, but I am still here. When the lightning hits, I comfort myself with this. The beauty of Anne’s writing is that she makes it all seem, not just possible, but normal. For men to go dragonback. For women to become ships. For young, unwanted girls to become MasterHarpers. For brains to pair with brawns, and sing opera under alien skies. And for an unlikely friendship to bloom, a pairing no one could have imagined, between a petal on earth, and an orchid in flight.

[storytellingandtea-blog]

:D :D :D “no questions, no lies” + Itachi/Shisui

Soooo this turned into a full-on oneshot. I think this might be the longest thing I’ve written that isn’t abandoned and/or a WIP lmfao. It is 3 am and I just finished this, so it’s probably got mistakes and typos and such. I’ll probably edit this up and re-post this to Ao3 at some point, if I don’t hate it in the morning. I was really tempted to just leave if off on the angst and have it as a maybe hopeful, maybe bleak ending, but I thought I’d be a bit nice, since I know you like HEA lmao. That said, I do think the ending paragraphs with the hopefulness are the weakest/most rushed-feeling bit. I was initially intending to end it just at the last text divider thing. I hope you still like it, though

AU: Time travel, aged up Itachi (he’s probably in his mid teens around the massacre). Probably OOC.

Warnings: Very heavy angst, dark themes. Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, self-worth/self-image issues, general Itachi angst.

Word Count:  ~4,400

Ao3 link: Edited version is up! Read on Ao3 for best experience b/c I keep losing my formatting when I try to paste the updated version in here xAx

Mandatory link to my new ItaShi playlist: here

Fic is below the cut

Shisui took a sudden pause from their frantic dash through the trees, a determined glint in his eyes as he took the opportunity to Shunshin to his cousin’s side, hand reaching forward.

“Itachi… what..?” Shisui gripped Itachi’s shoulder and forcibly stopped him, hauling them both down to the ground as gently as he was able, fixing Sharingan red eyes on the younger man. So much had happened in the past hour that it took him much too long to process things enough to even question what the ever-loving hell had happened, though it did speak for his level of trust in his cousin, as well. Even so, he still didn’t know where to start “What is going on? I… are you hurt? What— what did you do? Why are we running? My eye — how..? Danzō? The-the foundation?”

A face much too old, too tired, too… bereaved, yet reservedly fond in the same way it had been for years gazed back at him, unable to meet his eyes. A familiar stranger.

Strained lines on his face, a voice too deep, too haggard and husky for someone so young, replied, a taint of blood and death on his breath , “…I— I cannot, Shisui, do not ask this of me. Not-not until it is safe for you in Konoha. Do not force me to lie to you. Do not force me to make you forget.” His voice trembled. Trembled. Shisui didn’t want to think too hard into what could have broken Itachi this way. There was no other way Shisui could begin to describe it. At some point, the fragile points in his dear friend had shattered, when he wasn’t looking, and no one was there to pick up the pieces, to soothe the jagged edges. Shisui, busy, perhaps willingly blind, Sasuke too young, his parents too caught up in their troubles… They had failed him, and Shisui had to make it right, regardless of what Itachi seemed to believe of his own actions. There was little that Itachi could do that would turn him away. It kind of hurt to think that the young man didn’t seem to believe so. That he could think so poorly of himself, of their bond. Of him. Shisui refused to even consider that Itachi had, in fact, done something unforgivable. He simply wasn’t that type of person.

“Itachi…” Shisui sighed, and bit his lip when he saw the expression on Itachi’s face, deciding against pushing the issue, for now. He’d just have to do his best to help, without knowing anything beyond what he could read off the familiar stranger’s face.  “… all right, ‘tachi. Just… please. Are you… are you injured? Surely we’re far enough away for me to look you over?” Shisui pressed all the concern and hurt he could into his tone, refusing to feel guilty as he resisted the urge to rub his still-throbbing eye, the one that Itachi had re-implanted not half an hour ago.

He had lost time, waking up in a cave with Itachi by his side some time after falling into the water, impact shocking his body like a block of ice. (In another world, another time, Shisui had given a final, parting gift to Itachi before falling to his death. Itachi had refused to allow it, not again.)

His right eye had been aching when he bolted into consciousness, but was most definitely there behind the careful wrapping around his head. Itachi was hovering above him, but oddly unable to meet his uncovered eye. Things had been… odd with Itachi for the past week, he was even more reclusive than normal. He’d just surmounted it to the tough situation they’d found themselves in, and that it could wait for a more opportune time, that they could talk about it later. Evidently, that had been a mistake. Itachi had an expression he’d wished to never see on his face., body language defeated and weary.

Itachi passed him a water skin after he was certain his cousin was able to sit up on his own before he spoke. Or attempted to. A violent cough echoed through the space as Itachi turned away, taking a moment before he spoke again in a deep, raspy tone ,”We have to go, as soon as you’re able. You need to finish healing, but… it’s not safe here”.

Itachi looked away, seeming hesitant, before rasping “I will manage. They only scraped me. I need rest, but no more than you do. There’s a place we can hide out for a while not too far from here, abandoned by Orochimaru long ago. It still has protections that will serve us well once I get us past them…”

“…I don’t like this, Itachi. You should know you can confide in me by now, surely. I won’t press, but you should know, I’ll always be here for you, on your side. You know that, surely, especially with what’s been going on recently. I hate to see you hurting like this… I hate that you think you have to hide from me, that you’ve been hiding for weeks, if not longer. Let me help you”, Shisui responded in a rushed breath, pained. As always, the words Let me love you remained almost reluctantly unsaid, a painful lump in his throat.

If anything, Itachi looked even more broken and… guilty by that admission, his bloodshot eyes looking even less focused than they had been the entire all-too-hectic night. “No questions, no lies, Shisui”, was all that he managed to that, his eyes moist to accompany his broken tone.

Damn you. Damn you Itachi, and damn your martyr complex. You’re killing yourself, I know it. Damn your parents, for forcing your pacifistic ass into Anbu. Damn this world for being so unfair., for not allowing someone so inherently pure and wonderful, someone with so much to give to live without tarnishing his hands and soul. Without being forced into hating himself for what he’d had to do.

Shisui fought back the words from surfacing, fingers digging into Itachi’s shoulder unkindly, before he forced a nod. Something about Itachi’s almost-amused huff, the most he’d seemed like himself in much too long, told him that the younger man had picked up on at least some of the things that went unsaid. Shisui wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. For all his lack of social grace, at times, Itachi was still a genius, and they had had at least one or two conversations of a similar nature in the past.

“Lead the way”, he finally managed, giving up on meeting Itachi’s gaze in the silence. Whatever was going on, whatever had happened, he’d help Itachi. He wouldn’t allow the man he loved resign himself to… his hatred..? He was making a tactical retreat on the issue, though he would never give up. He’d just have to combine his years of reading Itachi, his experience with his ability to subtly needle Fugaku into spilling sensitive information. Shisui was determined. He would bring back Itachi from the precipice or no return he was wavering on, regardless of whether it was partially on purpose.

Shisui had been in this abandoned lab for… a week and a half, he supposed. For all that Itachi had claimed to need rest, he had disappeared that first morning, some time before he’d woken up. Needless to say, that really put a damper on his plans to figure out what the damn hell was going on, how Itachi was holding up with his illness… That period of time had been filled with high amounts of stress, anxiety and concern. Itachi had left him supplies, and a brief note to stay put as he ‘needed to take care of some urgent business’ and ‘there was no need to worry’ and ‘he’d be back as soon as he was able’. Even so, even having no clue where Itachi could have gone, that this was the most likely place for them to intersect again. Shisui was ready to tear his hair out, and just fucking bolt in search for his wayward cousin. In fact, he was making his way out of the hideout when he spotted the limping, battered Itachi.

He inhaled sharply, dropping everything before he Shunshined to Itachi’s side, carefully manoeuvring him onto the only bed in decent repair in the lab as he looked the younger man over. Itachi was… unwell would be the understatement of the century. Shisui felt numb as he tried to figure out the best course of action, his fingers already shining with the green of healing chakra. While hardly the most skilled, Shisui had very good chakra control, as was a necessity for his mastery of Shunshin, and he was able to substitute for a field medic in a pinch.

It had been concerningly touch-and-go for far too long as Shisui worked, Itachi fading in and out of consciousness. For his poor condition, Shisui found it very concerning that he could trace little back little of the damage to any external injuries, hoping that it was simply his lack of experience that prevented him from determining the cause of the internal damage, the blood building up in both lungs, despite no apparent evidence of a puncture.

Shisui had been wiping the bloody tear-like streaks caked on Itachi’s face when he finally awoke, after hours of too-hesitant chakra manipulated healing. “Oh, thank the Sage. Itachi, you’ve worried me sick. Haven’t I told you not to vanish on me..? I’ve had over a week to think all this over… nothing to do but think, really. And I still don’t understand what you think could be so horrible that you’ve been hiding it from me. I would never turn my back on you, I swear it. I lo— You mean the world to me, you’re family. I just want you to heal, you’ve been hurt, and I don’t know why or how, but I’ll make it better.”

Itachi seemed overwhelmed, and strangely pained at the barrage of words, as if they were poised to cut and maim, rather than reassure. Disoriented from just waking up, he hesitated for several beats too long, long enough that Shisui finally had hope for the first time in over a week that things would truly be okay. They weren’t, though. Itachi clammed up, the moment he realised they’d made eye contact, and he flinched away, like a kicked puppy,. He stiffly sat up, reaching into his tattered robes, as-if to retrieve something, “Before anything else, it is safe to return to Konoha, now. However, perhaps, more importantly, I… I am so, so sorry, Shisui. No questions, n—“

“Damn you, Itachi, damn you!” Shisui snarled, tears of irrational anger burning down his face as he made to box Itachi in the ear, only to stare in stunned, pained disbelief as the man he loved dispersed into a flock of crows, leaving behind only a scroll, and a whisper of I’m sorry. Not even a vague imprint of his chakra remained in the air. It felt like a goodbye, like an ‘I’ve done what I need to, and now I’m ready to die’. It felt like a ‘don’t look for me’, it felt like a betrayal of trust. It was a visceral, incomparable pain.

An inhuman noise tore its way from Shisui’s chest as he collapsed on the bedding that would forever be marked by Itachi’s sweat and blood, unable to do or feel anything beyond the hurt, pain, concern, worry, fear, anger, desperation.

It was probably hours later that Shisui finally hauled himself into a sitting position, though it had felt like an immeasurable eternity. He was stiff and sore, face sticky and sore from crying, eyes burning from a Mangekyō he wasn’t able to de-activate. He tugged at his own hair, hoping the sharp stabbing pain would distract from the ache in his soul, and forced his attention onto the scroll, laying deceptively innocent, now on the floor.

Shisui hesitated for a few moments, biting his lower lip raw, before lifting the scroll, and rolling it open. A familiar seal greeted him, and a pang, somehow deeper and more painful than the pervasive ache, struck him. He brought a thumb up to his raw, sluggishly bleeding lip, and smudged it onto the base of the seal, speaking in a broken, stuffed up tone, wavering, “No questions, no lies”. The familiar feeling of Itachi’s chakra caressed him for a moment before vanishing, leaving him with a sheaf of papers, neatly bound, and another, smaller, yet more intricate seal that he didn’t recognise. Setting it aside, after a cursory glance, he turned his gaze to familiar, if rushed handwriting, feeling himself go strangely numb, the further he read, starting to shed tears he thought he no longer had.

Shisui. Shi-nii… Shi-chan…

I hope you find this legible, as my sight has been fading as quickly as my health, as of late.

Oh, Sage. I do not know where to start. Much as I hope my letter finds you well, that you will not despair over one as undeserving as I, I know better than to hope. And for that, I am sincerely sorry. I am so very sorry, for so many things. Alas, I am too much of a coward, too selfish, too tired, too torn, to have the strength to face you as I share the deepest trenches where my soul used to reside.

Until then, please, allow me one last bit of completely unfair, harmful selfishness. Much as someone as you is undeserving of my taint, I love you. I still love you, even though I shouldn’t, after all I’ve done. I no longer deserve to, and yet. And yet. I loved you ever since we were small children, though I suppose it was different, back then. You were ‘just’ family. ‘Just’ my big brother. You did so much for me, you not only put the effort forward to understand, but you actually did. It meant the world to me, back then, when I could not express myself to save my life. I still do, now, no matter how needlessly difficult it had made the past few weeks, hiding my darkness from you. Time passes for all of us, however, and, well, over the years, you grew to mean so very much more to me. I think I realised that night, on the roof, under the stars… I am still deeply mournful I was unable to tell you before I was no longer worthy of earning your love.

Before I delve into the brunt of this retelling, please know, none of the blame is with you. It is my choices, and the choices of people beyond our control that have led to this. None the less, I have done things that are unforgivable, and that I wish not to taint anybody else with. I know that you’d try to forgive me, spin my actions in a way they are redeemable, but I know better. I don’t wish for you to taint yourself, your morals, your soul, with forgiving such a creature as I. You were my heart once, and I do not wish to force you down such a dark path. I must be cruel once more here, my heart. Please care for Sasuke, like you once did for me. With my actions over the past month, he will be having a very tough time.

The brief of it, well. I am from the future. One where I did many unforgivable things. One where I massacred our entire clan, save Sasuke, after you fell down a cliff, eyeless, and drowned. One where I forced my brother into madness to gain enough strength to kill me. I will not try to excuse or explain myself, lest I manage to make you see myself and my actions in a brighter light than I deserve. I have sealed my most important memories of the years that should never again come to pass in that scroll. You can activate it the same way you did my storage seal.

It contains memories of our clan, of my time as a missing-nin with a rebel group, of the upcoming war. I have dealt with Madara, and inhibited Zetsu’s plans to the best of my abilities, so you have time. Once again, I am sorry to push this on your shoulders, dear heart, for I am cruel. You are the only I can trust to take action. Please, don’t make the same mistakes as I. Don’t go it alone.

Ever since I had returned, into my younger body, around a month ago (I am still uncertain as to how it happened. One moment, I was dying to Sasuke’s hands, the next, waking up in the compound), I put forward my best efforts in an attempt to even slightly redeem myself, to prevent the darkest happenings of the future in any way I can. Danzō is dead, as are my father and many of the elders. The details I have also enclosed in the scroll.

As I’m sure you’ve been picking up on, I have not been completely well for some time. At this age, I already had the early signs of my illness, though I was not aware of it, at the time. The deterioration seems to be occurring faster in this timeline, than originally. My organs are under strain, my eyes failing, both from illness and Mangekyō use. Even if I were not tainted beyond saving, beyond redemption, I would not want others to see me like this, make them suffer for me. Much as I acknowledge what I am doing to you is unforgivably cruel, I hope you can begin to understand my reasons. Please be well.

I have left to die, Shisui, do not search for me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, I do not deserve healing. Please. Move on from this, be happy. That is the best thing you could ever do for me, dear heart.

With all my sincerest apologies and remaining soul,

Itachi

It had been just a fortnight since Itachi had vanished, and plans were very well underway for the future, based on the memories Itachi had left. After all, a determined Shisui was a productive Shisui, almost scarily so. Many of the pitfalls of Itachi’s future were unlikely to come to pass with all their contingency plans, upon contingency plans. It doubtlessly helped that many of the key players were dead, or had changed allegiance.

Many, including Shisui, himself, were angry with Itachi, but not for the reason the man himself likely thought. Shisui was so very unexplainably hurt by Itachi’s choice to leave, much as he understood it, in a way. He hated the fact that the man had been so hurt, so consumed by the family madness by the time he returned, that he no longer put any stock in himself, causing to push everyone who cared about him away, feeling undeserving. Unthinking of the harm he was doing to those that found him dear. They would have much to talk through, much to heal, the both of them, but for all his hurt, he couldn’t blame Itachi. And he found it even more painful that the young man had thought his actions irredeemable and unforgivable, considering his forced hand, and less-than-sane mental state at the time of many of these choices. He just wanted to wrap up the man in a stifling hug, and never let him go. It ached. He refused to think about the possibility of Itachi already being gone, of it being too late. He hoped that Itachi felt the need to resolve more things before death caught up with him, that he hadn’t killed himself, or just laid down to die somewhere.

He’d managed to convince Tsunade to return, for all she claimed it was temporary. Hiruzen was hoping to convince her to take over the hat, but that was hardly Shisui’s main concern — she had agreed she’d tend to Itachi, if— when they found him. While she couldn’t promise anything, due to the unreliable nature of the details Shisui had told her, she was convinced she could reverse most, if not all of the damage, if it hadn’t tipped over to the point of no return.

Shisui had gathered the best tracking teams in Konoha, and they were finally ready to depart. Each person had a Hiraishin seal, and access to a messenger summon so that Shisui and Tsunade could appear on location as soon as Itachi was found, and get him stabilised, and to Konoha as soon as possible.

Hiruzen felt a great deal of guilt over the Uchiha, and Itachi’s fathe, specifically, both in the man’a original timeline, and this time around, which allowed Shisui to press a lot more than he would have been able to otherwise, considering the differences in their station. This allowed him access to the forbidden scroll of the village, allowing him to learn the technique for near-instantaneous travel created by the Nidaime Hokage.

And here they were, setting out, two weeks after he’d last seen Itachi, the moment the situation was stabilised, and he felt confident enough in his new Jutsu. Much as he had been antsy to leave in pursuit immediately, he knew it would have done little good without any ability to help Itachi, considering he had little clue of his condition. Shunshin was amazingly useful, but it could cover only so much distance, and was very rough on passengers. Not to mention that his healing would only go so far.

Shisui was determined, hopeful as he watched the teams quickly advancing through the forest. There was no way the greatest trackers in Konoha, supported by Jiraiya’s lauded spy network would be unable to find Itachi. If he was still out there, he’d be brought back, no doubt about it.

If. Oh Sage. No, no, no, he had to still be alive, right? Such a bright flame couldn’t go out without any noticeable change to the world, surely. He had to still be alive.

…right..?

Shisui startled as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Tsunade didn’t offer any empty platitudes, but her steady presence helped settle his spirit. He wouldn’t allow himself to wallow in despair at what if. He had to have hope, especially when Itachi didn’t.

The next time Shisui saw Itachi, he was… in surprisingly good shape, considering his state the last time he’d seen the man, though much too pale, his face worn.

According to Kakashi, he seemed in the middle of tracking someone, who he’d later found out was Black Zetsu, before he found himself restrained by Konoha-nin. While initially panicked, and intent on escaping, Kakashi ended up talking him down, after he convinced his team to leave them to chat. While not as close as Shisui and Itachi, Kakashi had played an important role in Itachi’s life after he’d entered Anbu, as he’d been the young Uchiha’s commanding officer. Being similar in many ways, as well, had helped them bond. In the time that it took for Kakashi’s ninken to deliver the go-ahead to Shisui, Kakashi explained what had been happening ever since ‘his little vanishing act’, and started to explain why Itachi was wrong for believing he was unforgivable and irredeemable for his actions.

While Itachi was visibly reluctant to agree with Kakashi’s words, he was listening, and it was oddly plain to see that he was starting to take the words to heart. Kakashi had imagined it helped that he was notoriously allergic to feelings and speaking honestly, and that he’d shared some of his own deep wounds and failings. My actions aren’t unforgivable, according to you. Your situation isn’t much different than mine. What makes you so tainted? Learn to forgive yourself, kid.

Itachi leapt to his feet the moment he felt Shisui’s chakra signature, seemingly uncertain for a moment whether he wanted to bolt away from, or to Shisui. His innate impulse, built over many years took over, however, and he Shunshined straight into his cousin, following him in his fall to the ground. He clung tightly to the feeling of warmth, safety, home, for the first time in a long time not pausing to question if he deserved it. Silent tears trailed down Itachi’s face as his half-blind eyes met Shisui’s, willingly, for the first time, ever since he’d returned from the future, “I— I’m so very sorry, Shisui. I have caused you so much —“

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you utter dingbat”, Shisui near-sobbed into Itachi’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you thought, for a moment, you didn’t deserve me, that you deserved to die in a ditch somewhere. I fucking love you, too! Did my feelings not matter in this..? If you dared die, I’d have found a way to bring you back, just to kill you myself. You… you…. I’m so happy and relieved you’re okay… I just… you… we have a lot to talk about, but please. You deserve to live, and heal. Please, at least, try for me, even if you don’t think you deserve it for yourself yet”.

Itachi shifted over the sniffling Shisui so that the man was positioned in his lap, happy to note that Kakashi and Tsunade had chosen to give them some privacy. He paused, looking at Shisui’s face, and, once he was certain of his welcome, kissed the corner of the other man’s mouth, before pressing their foreheads together. “For you, anything. I have not been in my right mind for a long time now, as you probably know by now. But, after a long conversation with Kakashi, and some searching in myself, I know I should trust in you, if nothing else. If you believe I’m worth saving, I will try my hardest. I love you, and you are my heart, have been for a very long time. I will endeavour to never hurt you again in this way that I have. I pushed you away for one of the things I love most about you, and for that, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness.”

Tsunade, Kakashi, and the rest of the tracking group found the two half an hour later, exchanging soft words and gentle kisses, reluctant to be more than an inch apart at any given moment. They were already starting to heal, as they affirmed themselves, their relationship, in one another, though it would take time for the cracks in their souls to be filled with gold, making something different, yet just as beautiful as it once was. Together.

[auntiejojo801-blog]

Chemo Days 10-14...Signs

It is September 5th and my my hair is still present! I was told by day 10 it would all be gone. HA! I'll count that as a win. I'm not kidding myself, I know it's going to go, I'll just take these small victories as they come.

I am living the life I've always wanted...with the caveat of having cancer. I am off of work and so I have all the time to do things I need to around the house. I have freedom to enjoy the days and go grocery shopping as needed. I can sleep in until I wake up. I have snuggle time all day with my cats if I want. I can greet the mailman every day (I sound like a dog). I can sit outside in my backyard on a fall day and listen to the wind go through the leaves. Etc, etc. So if I really thought about it, other than the 4 inch invasive tumor and lymph node involvement that I have, I am blessed.

I'm feeling pretty good, going into round 2 tomorrow of chemo.

I've always been one to watch for signs and love seeing and connecting them when they appear.

Back in February of this year when the weather was cold I decided to try my hand at jewelry making. I bought some items and charms and got to work. One set of charms I found was bronze discs with a hammered cross on one side and the word "hope" engraved on the opposite side, both have the look of being burned into the metal and I thought they were very cool. I made them into earrings and they have been in constant rotation through the year. Since my diagnosis I have received numerous gifts including some very cool breast cancer rings, all with the word "hope" on them. So before I even knew, I made myself these earrings and have been wearing this theme all year.

I like to draw my Runes every January 1st. It's fun and unusually accurate. It typically makes no sense when i draw them and write them down but by the end of the year when I go back and read what I transcribed it's very cool, almost eery how it matches up with what happened. I remembered them earlier this year, I typically remember that I wrote them down around the holidays, and thought I'd take a peek at what was written for 2018. It's astonishing. The themes are: disruption - event beyond my control, ripping away of the fabric of what I know as my reality, and using my inner strength during this challenge; Initiation - pointing to what is outside of my power, the unknowable, acquiring a broader vision, experiencing a death to let go of everything and a complete renewal of my spirit. Association is made with the Phoenix (bird of mythology); Foundation -- a regeneration down to the cellular level, I may feel I need to retreat and I can do so to voyage inward for centering and balance; Warrior -- letting the will of Heaven flow through me, being a spiritual warrior; And finally Separation -- the benefits I will receive will be gained through something i must give up. old skins must be shed in order for me to be more truly who I am.

Now, when I drew these and wrote them down in January I was completely confused, but I went with it. I wondered if it had to do with work, or my marriage, but never put it together that it would be so deeply personal inside of my own body. I kept telling Tyson this year that I wanted to go to Phoenix, to see the Cubs in spring training. That didn't work out...ha. So I thought that maybe Phoenix in spring of 2019? My cousin whom I'm close with, recently posted a profile picture of a phoenix, and I loved the visual. And then I was watching the 2nd Harry Potter movie and the Phoenix (Fawkes) plays a pivotal role and Dumbeldore tells Harry some cool things about the Phoenix, that it shows up in time of need when you show a great deal of love. Seems like Phoenix is everywhere this year, and maybe this is a sign that I am a Phoenix.

I've been drinking Dandelion tea every day for over a year. I just read that Dandelion tea helps kill cancer cells...maybe thats why this cancer didn't show up right away and my blood tests have all been normal, because I've been fighting it off pretty effectively. I wonder if a Phoenix eats dandelions???

I've had a ridiculous abundance of yellow squash from my garden this year. I looked it up and yep, yellow squash has cancer killing properties. Totally going to be on my menu, I hope my family is ready.

So many more but my head hurts from all these associations :)

Speaking of signs, road signs...Slower traffic keep right...I wish everyone would follow this. On a 4 lane highway, use the left lane to actively pass someone, then get in the right lane. It just helps traffic move better. I am constantly amazed at how many people will drive in the left lane, side by side with a car in the right lane, both going the same speed. First that's a hazard, if one of the cars swerves (i.e. flat tire or a deer running out), now there's a 2 car accident and a pile up coming behind them. Second they can go that same speed in the right lane either in front of or behind the car that's already there. Third, There are people rushing for many reasons, and it's no one's place to judge and make them go slower. They may be late for a meeting and while yes common sense tells us that they should have planned better, but can you plan when your kid pees their pants when you're rushing out of the house and now they need to be changed? Or when a train stops in the middle of an intersection. There are things you can't plan. Such as a child who is sick at a school and we need to get there, a parent who has a heart attack and is being rushed to the hospital, someone who is rushing someone to the hospital to have a baby or due to illness, someone who is trying to make a flight. Ok, enough soap box, just get in the right lane, use the left only if passing.

Signs are everywhere and I am happy that I am blessed right now with the ability to see them all around me. So maybe I was wrong, maybe this 4 inch tumor and lymph node involvement is one of my blessings, and like a Phoenix I will rise from the ashes of this cancer to be a new and better me.

[raevynnswritingdesk-blog]

Mother’s Day and how it relates to being in a sorority.

5/13/2018

For many people this day is filled with grand gestures. Maybe you wake up at 6am to cook breakfast and make coffee for the mother in your life, maybe you go out to lunch or see a movie, maybe you’ve gifted your mother a day out of the house while you sit home to clean for her. Whatever your Mother’s Day looks like--it isn’t just an ordinary day.

This may come as a shock to someone in the world, maybe it will shock more than just one of you--we shall see. I am a 20-almost 21 year old gender-fluid human being who is also in a sorority (this fact will come in handy as the story here progresses). You should get to know me because who I am is important to how my story plays out. I have not celebrated a Mother’s Day in 3 years. My mother is alive and well, somewhere I don’t care to know. I choose not to call, I choose not to visit, and I choose to hide all day one day a year at least.

Some would call me lucky to have a mother when there are others in the world who don’t. I consider it more of a plague to my existence.

I do not discredit mothers, none of them--because I have had so many mother figures in my 21 years that it is almost ridiculous. For that--I am lucky. I am so lucky to have people who care for me.

For almost 4 years I have not associated with my mother at all. I go to great lengths to ignore her existence just to gain a small amount of peace in my life. Someone will probably beg the question....”why?”

It’s simple, well it’s complicated, but in the end it will make sense. From the time that I was in kindergarten I was bullied for being “fat“, this was a terrible thing that landed me hospitalized for refusing to eat. At 5 years old I was diagnosed with anorexia and hospitalize for 2 weeks. 5 years old. Keep this in mind. I couldn’t ride a bike, couldn’t swim, but I was being fed liquids through an IV because someone called me fat one too many times. Skip forward to middle school. I am in eighth grade and I ask my mother why I can’t have a two piece swim suit like all the other girls I was friends with--her response? “You wouldn’t look good in one, and I don’t want you in one.” I cried, and I got over it. I continued to wear swimsuits that my mother picked out till I was out of high school. Comments like this continued into my high school years, anything from “that doesn’t look good on you” to “you’ll need to go a size up”. I started self-harming. Cutting the flesh on my thighs where there was just a little too much and by little brother told me, “when you sit down your thighs look like pancakes” because my skin spreads out when I sit.

My father left us when I was in eighth grade, I had to start raising my two younger siblings, I cooked, I cleaned. If it wasn’t done correctly my mother would yell at me, sometimes hit me. The summer after eighth grade I thought of killing myself.

My freshman year of high school I had my first boyfriend. I was--happy. I had spent years wishing on stars and praying to my matron goddess to send me someone that loved me. To put someone in my life that could see me as beautiful. (I am Wiccan, and a matron goddess is similar to a main goddess that you pray to and celebrate) I was sure that she had sent this boy to me, to save me. We dated for a year, and when we broke up I was certain that it was because I wasn’t pretty enough. I spent the next three weeks only drinking coffee. I lost a lot of weight. My mother didn’t take me to the hospital--”you’re fine” she would say. “I’m so happy I got to see your first heartbreak”. I tried to kill myself. My only saving grace was my cousin who was more like a sister to me, my music, and my art.

I start dating a guy in my junior year, it’s prom time and the theme is Great Gatsby. (This guy also ended up being abusive but that is a story for another day). My dad had moved back in with us by this time. There is a really cheap dress online that I want, and I beg my mom for it. This dress is $15. My mother laughs in my face and tells me “what did you do to deserve it?”. I no longer want to go to my prom. She forces me to go, and makes me wear a dress that ended up costing $30. Twice what the dress I wanted costed. What did I do to deserve it? The year before this I was in colorguard and had to wear a girdle to make sure the fabric didn’t ride up and my underwear couldn’t be seen. Reasonable. When I went to try on this dress that my mother forced me to wear she looked at me, in front of my boyfriend and said--deadpan “you’ll have to wear your girdle with that.” This dress was not short, nor tight, or see through, but you could see the way my stomach bulged through it. You could see the way my natural form was. I cried in the dressing room.

More than 20 times in the 17 years I lived in my mothers house I heard the words “you look pregnant.” More than 20 times. I stopped wearing clothing that I liked, I stopped thinking I could be beautiful.

After I cut off ties I came out as gender-fluid. Now this was something I knew about myself in middle school, but my mother turned down and told me I wasn’t. I stopped talking to her, and when I came out her whole side of my family attacked me. Telling me I am a terrible daughter. That my pronouns were stupid. That my gender was a separate personality and I should get myself checked out. They refused to call me by the name I wanted to go as, and continued to berate me on my facebook where all of my friends could see.

I am in a sorority, this is a mainly female organization, but my sisters love me and my fluidity. They respect my pronouns, and care for me. It is especially hard on Mother’s Day to speak to any of them because...they all have wonderful mothers. I am still the outcast.

I don’t celebrate Mother’s Day. I probably never will. I was abused, I was drowned in name calling and crude comments. But I am reminded every year that I will never have a mother that loves me, and I will never be able to celebrate a holiday that celebrates mothers. I may have a boyfriend who loves me, and friends who love me, but I will never have a family like that.

Because of my “Mother“ I will always battle with body image, I will always have to calm my anxiety before I can eat in public. I will always have an anxiety attack if someone watches me eat. I will always battle anorexia. I will never feel like I am good enough, and because she told me “you could never be a mother” and “you would never be able to have a family you’re too stupid” I may never have kids. I may never be able to get married to the man I have loved for 7 years. All because the one person who is supposed to love you--didn’t.

If you have a wonderful mother, love her a little more. Appreciate all she does for you. Because there are people who don’t have that.

Thank you.

[halalhyungwon]

1-100 odds

Jaz you’re a real one

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

It depends on the cereal, tbh. Some cereals I prefer a lot of milk and others I put less

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I’ve used my phone, random sheets of paper, pens/pencils, white out tape…

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

A lil bit

7: do you name your plants?

I don’t have any plants :( If i did, I probably would

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Yes, I do it constantly

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

Inner joke? Like, inside joke?… I have a lot. And yet, I can’t think of one to share lmao

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I was on the phone with my bestie for like 5hrs and I hadn’t called them in a while so that made me happy (: 

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

“A total of 32 monkeys have flown in space.”

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

This shade of purple that Minseok had because it is sooo pretty. I’ve wanted to dye my hair that color for the longest time

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I do have a journal and I used to write in it regularly but kinda stopped once I got into sophomore year of college. It was kinda my brain dump and also where I just spilled all my emotions that I never talked to anyone about

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

Favorite?? Hmmm there’s the bag my cousin bought me for my high school prom. It’s cute and small and white and going over your shoulder. I don’t use it much but I’m still happy to have it.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

watch exo and seventeen make fools of themselves lmao

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

I don’t recall breaking into anywhere…but I remember one summer my brother and I went for a walk to a school in my cousin’s neighborhood and an alarm went off and scared tf out of us

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

wintermint (?) i think it’s called

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? 

One of my friends has this pack of cards that says “I LOVE YOU BECAUSE” and then it has a bunch of bullet points for different reasons you could love someone. She gave me one sophomore year and another one just recently and honestly it’s so sweet

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

Socks and I…we acknowledge each other’s existence and hang out when we need to. I only where socks with my sneakers and boots, and when it’s really cold. I cannot where socks all day. Like it’s impossible. When I wear socks I just feel hyper aware of the fact that there is cloth on my feet and it makes me uncomfortable. I can’t go to sleep with socks on, unless I’m extremely tired and just fell asleep. Even then, I’ll wake up with my socks kicked off in the morning.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Most recently! My friend and I were trying to observe the meteor shower last weekend. And like the thing is for the first hour or so we didn’t see any and kept trying to find the best place to observe them. Then, I finally saw one, but it was right when my friend was looking down so she didn’t get to see it! And then, another hour or so passes and it just seems like we’re never gonna see another one, so we decide to head back to our dorms. BUt, on the way back we find a spot that would be just perfect to see them, so we just loitered there for almost another hour, jammin to music and just waiting to see some shooting stars! And then the next one comes but it happens right as I’m looking at my friend to talk to her, but she’s looking up so she gets to see it. After that some time passes and it’s already 3:30 a.m. and I’m tired and lowkey gotta pee, so we start making our way back to the dorms again. And then we find another spot that would be good viewing, so we chill there for a while because, though we’ve both seen a shooting star, we haven’t see one together. So we’re standing there, chillin, being goofs and listening to trap remixes of the Wii theme, when we both look up and go “OH!!!” and freak out bc we finally saw another shooting star and it was just great. 

(I realized I answered this even tho it’s not odd but i’m just gonna keep it bc i love it too much)

33: what’s your fave pastry?

do cinnamon rolls count as pastries?…i could really go for one…

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

Yes I do!! But I don’t have many :(( Part of me wants to buy a big set but like I already have a bunch of pens and notebooks (but they arent all aesthetic and pretty and stuff) and I also think i’d stop using them after a week or so

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

I like having a neat room (I cleaned my room today I’m so happy, it looks so spacious) 

39: what color do you wear the most?

Black, probably

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

I don’t read often but I think the last book I really enjoyed … Howl’s Moving Castle

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

@batmanlemonade hey ;) [see #32]

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

No? maybe? idk

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

pickles…

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I wishhh I could just buy all the cd’s i’ve ever wanted. If I had more money I probably would have a nice collection. The last CD i’ve bought was back in high school and I think it was OneRepublic’s Native album

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

My little brother… whenever i hear transformer, touch it, monster or kkb I think about him bc those are his favorite exo songs loll

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

I don’t think I’ve watched any of these but beetlejuice, and I love beetlejuice

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

I scrolled through my kyungsoo tag for a good hour or so to prove to my friend how much i love him sfdjkl; that’s not very dramatic but it’s the first thing I thought of. She really didn’t question that I loved him, I just love any excuse to look through my tags

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

bohemian rhapsody is a classic sfkl; um it always reminds me of my childhood bc my brothers and i used to watch these animated videos and one of them was of bohemian rhapsody but with megaman characters lmao

59: what’s your favorite myth?

UHmmm I really don’t know lol sorry

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

In sophomore year I wanted to buy my roommate her favorite flavor of ice cream but I didn’t have money so I drew ice cream on a post-it note for her I can’t think of a stupid gift I’ve received…

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

lol no, i just let ‘em be. they’re chillin

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

my cousin who’s in med school, I haven’t seen her in too long :c

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

I kinda like those days. If I’m in a good mood, gray skies, cool breezes and light rain make me feel better. Otherwise, it’s just meh.

69: what are your favorite board games?

There’s this Korean board game that I can’t remember the name of for the life of me, and tbh since I haven’t played it in a while I don’t remember the exact rules, but it’s kinda of like Sorry! I’ve only played it twice but it was really fun both times

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Chai

73: what are some of your worst habits?

putting myself down and procrastinating

75: tell us about your pets!

I don’t have any :-( I’ve been really wanting a cat lately

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Pink~

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Hmmm when I was in high school I reeeally loved Michael Buble (I still do, have you heard that man’s voice?) so for Valentine’s day, my friend got me this box and taped his face on the top lmaoo with a reference to one of his song lyrics. The box was filled with flowers and chocolate and gum (but at the time I had braces so i couldn’t even chew the gum lolll)

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

I really wish I could but I’m not creative and this headache I have isn’t helping safhjlk sorry

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

I really like the cover for 1R’s Native album, and also p!atd’s too weird to live too rare to die

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

Not really, but I’d like to

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Howl’s Moving Castle, Room No 7 starring Do Kyungsoo, coming out November 15 and..I can’t really think of another one

89: are you close to your parents?

Kinda sorta

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

i have no plans to travel :( 

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

My hair in it’s natural state lol covered by my hijab

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Chillin! I was supposed to lock myself up in my room and finally watch the exo and seventeen concerts I have downloaded but i haven’t gotten around to watching them yet. But I have been chillin in my room so it’s been alright

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

infp, scorpio, and i have no idea

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

UHhhmmm Call Me Baby and Heaven by EXO; Healing and Don’t Listen in Secret by Seventeen; Hug Me by Jung Joon Il

[alxndre-0001]

Alex’s Literary Reads of 2019 (from the months of June to September)

Caution: Bad, unedited writing ahead. Alex is a lazy person

Being a law student is an exhausting line of self-inflicted harm. Your life becomes an onslaught of reading materials and even more reading materials to catch up to. Now, reading has been second nature to me since I was four years old, so you can just imagine the sheer amount of readings my law professors have given us for me to consider detesting reading. 

I’ve managed to keep my sobriety from purely academic books by inserting novels, short stories and some poetry along the way. In all my four years in law school, this is the only year that I read as much as I wanted to. Mostly, short stories and essays that could be finished in one sitting. I had summer classes and wasn’t able to go home at all since January or February so I kept myself preoccupied by reading leisurely ( I know, gasp! Is that even possible for Alex in this economy?).

So here they are ++ some reviews and thoughts on the books.

1. Delta of Venus by Anais Nin

I read this book at the same time as a friend of mine. It was my first time diving into erotica considered to hold literary merit, the ones I had before were utterly terrible, by the way. But we are talking of Anais Nin anyway, so there’s that. It’s actually a collection of erotic short stories involving different, unconnected characters although a few of them were referenced in other stories. As someone who’s always been fine with sex in plots, this one left me feeling visibly unsettled. I realized how truly romanticized sex can be in popular books (e.g Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy). The outpouring of feminine pleasure on those books was strictly gratuitous and self-indulgent. Delta of Venus was an uncomfortable experience because it fleshed out several discomfiting realities of sex and titillation – violence is often an element of power play in the bedroom, voyeuristic tendencies of everyone, depraved fantasies which are almost immoral in their insistence. 

Of particular impressions were ‘The Hungarian Adventurer’ and ‘Boarding School’ which explored themes of rape, incest, and even bestiality at one point.  It wasn’t the fact of preference that appalled me, it was the simple exposition of the truth – sex is all things good and bad, inexplicable and sensual. I have a problem with how media portrays sex, especially in popular culture which is partial with idealistic notions of sexual roles apparent in concepts like the male gaze and fantasy in porn. You see, these things eventually become damaging. When we glamorize something as common as sex, it either becomes fodder for taboo or fantasy, which incidentally what occurs with conversations of sex. Either it is a subject much condemned for its alleged impurity or a dirty little secret which encourages unrealistic expectations for both sexes. 

Nin’s style of writing borders on the absurd, but it is done intentionally. In one interview, she narrated how a client wanted her to write erotica which was basically porn and just skip the poetry. She refused as any self-respecting and intelligent woman would.  And well, we need to appreciate her for that. If she let the client have his way, then what we’d have is an exaggerated image of sex instead of the unnerving stories of Delta. In a sense, we can consider Delta as a commentary on sex literature which caters to a male audience. The stories were rife with feeling, of emotion, which feminized a genre so overtly masculine, pandering to the male gaze.

There were quite a number of jibes at the male gaze as well with stories like ‘Marianne’ and the ‘The Veiled Woman’. My favorite was when Marianne (Marianne) met a man who felt erotic pleasure by only being looked at, like an object of desire. It appeared to me as a reverse of the male gaze, which often portrayed women as the object of desire, effacing her human qualities to turn her into just a vessel to express lust, infatuation or even love. But here, the object of desire is a man and we are made privy into his thoughts and actions, humanizing him instead of treating him as just an object. 

Overall, Delta of Venus was a fine starter for anyone who wished to know more of Anais Nin. The prose flowed well, even lyrically so, despite sex being a subject which can easily turn stale if not carefully written. 

2. Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe

My first experience with Poe was when I was around nine or ten years old. I was a nosy child when it came to other people’s books and one day I found printed copies of short stories of my cousin’s in his room. One of them was A Tell-Tale Heart.  I still remember feeling on edge as I read the slightly blurred lines in cheap brown paper, it was utterly thrilling. The horror of the story comes less from the almost supernatural obsession of the unnamed character with the eye of the old man. It was more on his slipping attempts of overcoming the inhuman desire to kill the man for his eye. 

There’s always something that fascinates me with horror that is internally driven. More than the hostility of vampires, the looming threats of an apocalypse, the real horror for me lies in the deep recesses of the human heart, that inscrutable machine that throbs inextricably within all of us. And I feel like that’s what always impressed me with Poe. He had the excellent ability to articulate darkness that is motivated by the self and that is a feat for writers. Stephen King, for example, is great at understanding that his monsters are metaphors for his inner demons but he relates them into tangible forms be it demon dogs, telekinetic teenagers to give them an external existence. 

Poe has a clear grasp of fear and all its friends. And though some critics would lend an idea that Poe writes well with supernatural elements, I beg to disagree. He uses, for one, unreliable narrators (Berenice, William Williamson, Fall of the House of Usher). The thing with unreliable narrators is they warp the sense of reality of the stories, an indication to the reader that everything is not what it seems. And if one pays enough attention, then they could ask the all-important question: Is this the real-life or is this just fantasy? If you’re playing with those two possibilities, then you’d be less scared with the supernatural/ external world than the worldview of the narrator. You start to scrutinize him more closely, dog his steps, intimate his intentions, etc like some fixated lover. In doing so, in peering into the mind of another, you stumble into your own inner motivations, your thoughts and who knows you might mirror the darkness the narrator is struggling with? 

And there is the true gift of Poe – he reads everyone like how he reads himself. He doesn’t do this by getting acquainted with thousands of people with innumerable different lives. No, sir. He forces readers to examine themselves and the darkness inherent in men but constantly, through our self-delusion denied as present in others but not in ourselves. I need not belabor that this kind of writer is my favorite, the ones with a very vivid understanding of humanity, no matter how bleak the answers that arrive to them.

I went at liberties with Poe (lol) but some favorites inside the collection of stories are The Case of M. Valdemar, Black Cat, Descent into the Maelstrom and Pit of the Pendulum. My only issue is Poe’s tendency to philosophize in protracted terms that I was afraid I was going to get bored to death ( Domain of Arnheim, The Island of the Fay) with the possible exception of ‘The Colloquy of Monos and Una’ since I like the ideas presented there. 

3. Slapstick! or Lonesome No More by Kurt Vonnegut

I was supposed to start with Kurt Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions or Cat’s Cradle but the only available copy of the writer’s work in the book fair (thanks BBW!!) was this one. It seemed like a light read, a stark contrast from Poe’s grim, verbose collection, so I decided to give it a go. The last time I read a sci-fi novel was Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 ( a real shame since I planned on reading more sci-fi this year). I finished it in less than a day and I wouldn’t say it left me with any remarkable opinion as much as the other books have had on me except that Vonnegut seemed like that fun, carefree uncle in reunions who has an alcohol abuse problem, is unmarried, and eats grapefruit for breakfast.

It’s not a very long novel and Vonnegut kept ending every part with ‘Hi, ho’. There’s a deeper sadness that is thinly veiled in the book as well, yeah slapstick, which reminded me of David Wallace’s Infinite Jest except the latter presents a more serious nod to its humor. 

It tells the story of Wilbur and Eliza, twins who are considered conventionally horrendous and abnormal in physical qualities. They are tall, too tall in fact. But thank god for rich parents who secretly dislike them, that they lived a sheltered existence away from everyone else other than their servants and a doctor who checks them every day. Unbeknownst to the parents and everyone else, the twins are super smart but only if they are allowed to share their intelligence by being close to each other. 

Long story made short, it’s a light read and perhaps a good overview of Vonnegut’s style of writing. I did want to read Slaughterhouse-Five after this one, so maybe that’s a good start. 

4. Dubliners by James Joyce

I’m having a hard time deciding whether this is my favorite out of everything else in this list or not. James Joyce was actually one of the writers I wanted to read very closely and understand his style better. He had such status and influence in modernism, plus the mythic reputations of both Finnegan’s Wake and Ulysses for their wrought complexity and ingenuity in style that I felt drawn to his works.  You should have seen my face when I got a copy of this book at the BBW Fair last August – think of a kid in a candy store for an accurate depiction. 

Let’s cut right down to the chase. What do I really think of this book? To sum up my thoughts about it: If there is a master class for short story writing, Dubliners should be a required reading. I am by no means a writer or journalist but as someone who reads short stories often (more often than novels or poetry) for the last two or three years, Dubliners was a standout. 

Dubliners is actually a collection of short stories (hell I’ve only been having collections, is this a pattern? lol). They are set in Ireland mediated through the simplicity of daily life.  I admired the craftsmanship of Joyce in this one, the prose was written so concisely, dispensing with the arduous descriptions that lead nowhere.  

The characters, too, were forged from the circumstances of ordinariness – a dead priest, an abused woman, a boy about to come of age and so on. The characters themselves feel like semblances of a collective consciousness – that of Ireland during a tumultuous time in the  20th century.  In a way, the mundane, individual aspects of a character’s life was a mirror to the social conditions Joyce wanted to portray emphatically in the stories. The style was polished in a way that one is made to occupy the places mentioned in Dublin through the familiarity of an old friend, a returning local into the arms of unchanged memories. There hung in each story, a great atmosphere of nostalgia and I suspect it is because Joyce knows how to excavate sentiments for places which we haven’t even visited or seen but that somehow we recognize as phantoms of our very own lives. 

There is indeed great beauty in the most ordinary things and it takes the eye of an artist to take the uneventful and reveal its exquisiteness. Joyce made me grasp a show of that ability in the days that I pored through his collection. Whatever he intended while writing Dubliners, whether as a mirror of a conflicted Irish society or as a commentary to the social context borne through those times, it is his style that won me over. The plots were as simplistic as possible and there was no way to harness more meaning from the events of a character’s life rather than to take them at face value and coming to the understanding of just how nuanced and visceral our daily lives can be if only we looked hard enough, paid attention enough.

Dubliners reminded me of what I look for most in a book. It really is less of the plot or even it’s overarching theme and more of the style. Language as an art form has always been my standard in saying if a book has taken me in or not.  The great writer, Vladimir Nabokov is similarly convinced that language can elevate a story into an art form. There is artistic merit in a writer’s style just by itself and I would rather read a book with a weak plot but with a sound use of language than a novel plot with a severely exploited and copied style. 

5. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

Perhaps the other strong contender for favorite in this list is Heart of Darkness. To be fair, it was less a book and more of an experience. An experience of what literature can do when it goes beyond style and narration to get to the bottom of the writer’s innermost motivations for writing the book. I ended Heart of Darkness, perplexed and in much quandary. There are only two possible explanations: First either the book was beyond me and my mediocre mind that try as I might, meaning of any sort would only elude me. Second, it was so condensed with significance that reading it once simply didn’t qualify as reading it at all. By the end of maybe two days, I realized it was the latter. For the lack of any other time, I’m going to try and process its entirety with the sum of my reading it only once.

I confess I looked up a video review off YouTube before getting to the book, mostly because classics have a way of being exhaustively discussed without losing their ability to sustain a reader’s interest. In my case, spoilers don’t do any damage or if there is any, of only negligible consequence since I look for other things other than the stream of events.

According to the video review, the book is an example of darkness as a location. To put context to this description, it would be good to tell a bit of the story. This is about an English man named Marlow who went to Congo to take on greener chances in the trade therein and for which the backdrop is meant to replicate the inhuman conditions of the slave trade. Amidst all this is another man named Kurtz, who was quite illustrious as a prodigious ivory trader and who was steeped in so much mystery. Upon arriving at the Congo, Marlow witnesses the cruel treatment of the ‘slaves’ under the supervision of the Europeans.