#trying to be everything they needed everything his precious didi needed

[hello-galad]

His father’s death, after those agonizing three months, felt as a relief. At least now, Nie Mingjue thought, their father was not in pain anymore. He squeezed his didi’s hand tighter and stood straighter, but the wouldn’t stop the tears from falling…

[songofclarity]

Ok, so, i had a thought and ive been shamelessly sharing it, you will be my 3rd victim. I need people to hurt as i do because most talk about nhs hurt with dage death, but i have yet to see people talking about nmj last moments making it about him and bit nhs (besides you). Not sorry.

Nmj in the donghua, died after a fight with nhs, just after his didi practically told him all his eforts, all his struggle was for nothing. Nhs didnt want the sect he did his best to protect, rejected the saber that was their heritage and turned his back on all nmj had to sacrifice to make sure nhs had a comfortable *easy* life.

How much hurt and pain was nmj in his final moments besides the induced qi deviation?

Your 3rd victim ahaha I love it

Oof, now this is tricky for me because the donghua changed things up quite a bit.

An important part of the build-up to Nie Mingjue's death in the novel is that the Nie brothers had gotten into several fights before the fatal day. They were in the midst of one the very morning Nie Mingjue qi deviated and they hadn't managed to make up yet (and... they never would 😭).

And I think this is SUCH a vital pieces of information about their relationship: even when Nie Mingjue is poisoned with excessive turmoil, his fights with Nie Huaisang still aren't pushing him to qi deviate. Even though Nie Mingjue rages and yells and burns Nie Huaisang's precious fan collection, and Nie Huaisang yells and rages right back at his face and kicks his saber, Nie Mingjue is still not pressed enough to qi deviate.

So I think the donghua was entirely off-point by switching out Jin Guangyao and making Nie Huaisang's words Nie Mingjue's breaking point.

Because Nie Mingjue was never, truly, angry or upset at Nie Huaisang.

Nie Mingjue knew Nie Huaisang. He cared about him. He would never, willingly, hurt him. So try as Jin Guangyao might to drive a wedge between them, it couldn't break them apart. (Which is why the rest of the MDZS novel still happened!)

It takes a special little someone named Jin Guangyao, who Nie Mingjue once thought he knew but now knows is dangerous, to push Nie Mingjue's turmoil over the edge by showing just how two-faced he is.

Nie Mingjue, from how I read it, wasn't trying to give Nie Huaisang an easy life. He was trying to protect him for however long he could, which is what adults are supposed to do for children. Nie Huaisang didn't have to be a great cultivator, but he needs to practice his saber enough to at least know how to protect himself--because Nie Mingjue won't always be there to protect him and do the hard jobs, like fighting in the Sunshot Campaign, for him. Nie Huaisang is sheltered now, but he can't be sheltered forever.

Nie Huaisang could refuse to be sect leader now because Nie Mingjue was still around, so they still had time for Nie Huaisang to grow up. Nie Mingjue didn't want to burden Nie Huaisang with the heavy knowledge of the saber spirits just yet in part because Nie Mingjue didn't feel it was as urgent an issue as Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen insisted (and honestly, Nie Mingjue was 100% right but I digress).

During his donghua qi deviation, as I've theorized already, Nie Mingjue stabbed himself in the heart, killing himself before he could harm Nie Huaisang.

During the novel, he could have done the same or he could have died from the qi deviation like a person can die from a heart attack, pulmonary embolism, or stroke.

In both versions, Nie Mingjue attacked so many other people but came to a full stop when confronted with Nie Huaisang.

I don't think Nie Mingjue was feeling hurt by Nie Huaisang's words in his final moments in either version. I think Nie Mingjue's final moments were him hurting and in pain over how he ALMOST did something so abhorrent, something that went so far against everything he stood for and cared about.

I imagine his final thoughts being, "What am I doing!? What am I thinking!?"

Turmoil turned Nie Mingjue into this crazed, wild beast that started attacking indiscriminately. That's not the kind of person he is. He's always acted with a clear head and followed the rules. And it hurts me to imagine that split second of internal crisis and self-doubt, as if he hasn't tried to live his life as honorable and righteous as possible, when he is literally dying.

Which is all to say I personally don't think Nie Huaisang's actions or words hurt him. Frustrated him, yes, but that frustration was born out of love, not hate. And it was feelings of love for Nie Huaisang, not hurt or pain, that allowed Nie Mingjue to grab hold of his humanity for that one, desperate moment at the end.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Silver Mist - part 3/3 - ao3  or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

warning: adult content, read the ao3 tags

Every enchantment had a weak point.

There was a reason there were more cultivators than foxes out there, why even the cleverest fox had to hide behind a human mask and pretend to some level of decency – why Nie Huaisang had been so careful with playing with his brother, his most favorite and most precious of people. There would come a time when he got weakened, or distracted, or something, and suddenly all his enchantments would slip through his fingers, breaking down, and he’d be left with nothing but what he earned fair and square.

(Nie Huaisang’s mother, the second Madame Nie, had disappeared right after he’d been born, and yet it was Nie Mingjue’s mother that everyone said went away, that everyone recalled leaving, not his – his mother was the one they all said had died.)

Nie Huaisang lived in fear of that moment.

When his brother burned his fans in a rage, he thought – this is it. He’s remembered.

He hates me now.

It was all so very frustrating, too, because he’d finally settled everything just the way he liked it: his da-ge in his life and in his bed, feeding him with his heart and body and happy to see him flourish. It was all he needed in life, just that and nothing more. Sure, Nie Huaisang loved the gifts his brother’s sworn brothers brought for him – he’d always been spoiled beyond belief, and never saw any reason to change. It was ironic, really, that it was Jin Guangyao’s gifts that his brother always found fault with, not Lan Xichen’s which were just as multitudinous, but perhaps it was because he needed to wheedle and whine and beg for gifts from Jin Guangyao.

With Lan Xichen, he just needed to smile.

(Lan Xichen was always weak to a smile. Back at the Cloud Recesses, during the war, his weak protests had died at once at the sight of a smug little curl of the lip as Nie Huaisang pressed him down and climbed on top of him –)

Lan Xichen’s ears didn’t turn red the way Lan Wangji’s did, nor did he duck his head and grin the way Wei Wuxian did, Nie Huaisang observed judiciously, but that didn’t mean he could hide his embarrassment at the very sight of Nie Huaisang, and that made it very easy indeed to talk him into buying Nie Huaisang all the gifts he could possibly want with barely any protest. Maybe a But your brother - that quickly cut off when Nie Huaisang pressed his fan to his lips, but nothing more, and then he’d go above and beyond to find an excuse to take Nie Huaisang shopping for anything that caught his eyes.

But Jin Guangyao…

Sometimes Nie Huaisang would swear that his san-ge gave him all those gifts in front of his da-ge on purpose, the sneaky little minx, even though he knew Nie Mingjue would only rage at him for it.

Nie Huaisang’s presents burned, and he shouted and screamed and fled and cried, and he waited in his da-ge’s bedroom shivering in fear but unwilling to back down. He was a Nie, after all, and being a fox didn’t make him any less that.

“Huaisang?” his brother said, coming in through the door.

He looked – tired.

Tired, not angry; his eyes were bloodshot and he appeared to be in pain – his da-ge, his brave and bold da-ge who feared nothing, in pain!

“Da-ge, what’s wrong?” Nie Huaisang said fitfully, deciding to ignore… everything, at least for the moment. “Why are you like this? What happened?”

“I don’t –” His brother rubbed at his face. “I don’t know. I – I got so angry –”

His nose was bleeding, Nie Huaisang noticed, and frowned. “Da-ge?”

Maybe this wasn’t about what he’d been doing at all.

“Da-ge, come here,” he said, and his brother came to him. “Lie down,” he said, and his brother obeyed, free and clear and of his own volition. “What’s wrong with you?”

“The saber spirit,” Nie Mingjue said dully, staring up at the ceiling. “I thought I’d have longer.”

Nie Mingjue had never explained the exact details of their family’s cultivation technique, only postponed discussing it, and so Nie Huaisang had known there was something wrong with it – his brother only ever shared good things with him, while shielding him from the bad. He’d taught him everything he could, omitting only the last few details, and thus it was in those details that the problem lay.

As if Nie Huaisang couldn’t guess, when every generation of his ancestors had died from a qi deviation.

He scowled.

“It can’t be,” he said, settling down next to his brother on the bed. “You haven’t even been cultivating it that much, recently. Not more than your usual training.”

“Maybe it’s the war?” his brother wondered aloud. “After-effects, only becoming apparent once my cultivation increased further –”

“But the recent increase in your cultivation isn’t even because of saber cultivation!” Nie Huaisang argued. “You’ve been helping me, instead; it’s completely different, a totally different approach. A problem with one method wouldn’t affect an increase in your cultivation through another.”

His brother frowned.

“Huaisang,” he said, his brow furrowing, his eyes clear and thinking – thinking and realizing. “Your new cultivation ‘technique’…”

…oops.

“It’s only because I love you so much, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said at once, immediately pulling himself up and over to straddle on Nie Mingjue’s lap. It gave him an unfortunate view into the expression of shock and no little bit of horror currently forming on his brother’s face, but he needed any advantage he could get – he wouldn’t be able to pull his brother into the trance state like this, not when he’d realized, not when he was fully sober. Nie Huaisang had gotten stronger since they’d started this, but not strong enough to beat his brother when his brother was trying. “Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t I show you how much I love you?”

“Huaisang! There are – you can’t – you’re not allowed to love me that much!”

“Why not?” Nie Huaisang said, and when his da-ge tried to sit up he put his hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Maybe it was the angle, maybe it was the surprise, maybe it was just that his brother wasn’t really trying, but he managed it, and immediately a short sharp shock went straight to his cock. “Why not? Who’s it hurting?”

“Who is it – me! You’re doing it to me!”

“And sometimes you do it to me, what’s your point?” Nie Huaisang said, breezing past the fact that his brother wasn’t referring to penetration at all. “If we keep it discreet, no one will learn from our bad example, and you weren’t really looking for a spouse anyway, were you? You always wanted to leave the sect to me. Why shouldn’t I have you? I want you.”

“Huaisang –”

Nie Huaisang ground his hips down and felt the answering twitch. “It’s too late, anyway,” he said, and his brother stared up at him. “Look at you. I’ve already ruined you – you’ve got my words in your brain, in your core. You’ve had my cock up your ass and you’ve loved it, you get hard just thinking about my cock in your mouth –”

“Because you put it in my head.”

“Just because I put it there doesn’t mean it’s not still there,” Nie Huaisang said, and leaned forward to press his lips to his brother’s neck. “It’s still in there, da-ge. And if it is, then what’s the point of not letting me have you? Haven’t I been taking good care of you, all this time? And look at where it’s gotten us: you sleep better, you eat better, you have the strength to train, I’m stronger than ever before… I’m a good didi, da-ge, I’m your good didi.”

His brother was weakening. Nie Huaisang could feel it in his heartbeat.

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” he whispered, intimate as the lover he had made himself into. “I took advantage of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be guilty for. The act’s already been done, plenty of times – the line’s been crossed, and there’s no going back. There’s only the way forward.”

“Huaisang…”

“Don’t I have your heart?” Nie Huaisang demanded. His fingernails were like claws where they dug into his brother’s chest as if to rip it out himself, his teeth like fangs filling his mouth; he didn’t know what his face looked like right now and he didn’t care. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted – a cultivator as righteous as his brother would be a prize for any fox, any yao, any creature bent against humanity, but all Nie Huaisang wanted was what his brother had always given him freely. “You love me, you love me. Give me your heart and I’ll be happy. Da-ge, I’ll be so happy, you don’t even know, it’s everything I’ve always wanted and more. You give me anything and everything, you always have. Give me this, too.”

“I can’t,” his brother whispered, and it was only I can’t because he couldn’t make it I won’t. “Huaisang…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Nie Huaisang coaxed him. “I know you love me, and that’s enough. You don’t have to go against everything you are, da-ge, I’d never ask that of you. All I need you to do – the only thing you need to do – you know already, don’t you? You know what you need to do for me.”

Nie Mingjue did know.

All he had to do was let go, give in, and let the words already swirling beneath his skin come to the surface, sink willingly down into the quiet world where Nie Huaisang was master absolute, and Nie Huaisang would make sure that he never felt bad about any of it. Not ever again.

“Give me your heart,” Nie Huaisang said. “Please, da-ge.”

His da-ge’s heart, whole and entire with nothing held back, was the best thing he’d ever gotten.

-

The art of deception was misdirection.

Change one thing in a room at a time, and in time no one would notice that they were in a different room entirely. Set water simmering slowly, and the crabs would cook without ever thinking of escape. Dress up as a god and play the demon to confuse –

Nie Huaisang knew how to play with the hearts of men, for good or for evil, and in comparison their eyes were nothing much. A talisman for illusions, a mimicry of mannerisms – it was easy enough to pretend to be his brother, who was sleeping so sweetly in his bed. A deep sleep, a healing sleep; his poor brother’s meridians were all twisted up into something like a nightmare, but it wasn’t anything that they couldn’t straight out over time, together. All he needed was some sleep and some peace, and Nie Huaisang could give him both, so he did.

His brother had stirred briefly, hearing the siren call of duty, but Nie Huisang was a better siren by far. He promised him that it would be handled, and his brother trusted him to see it done – and he would.

No one knew that the Nie listening coldly to their requests wasn’t the right one.

Not even Jin Guangyao, who came with his head bowed and his demeanor meek, setting up his guqin to play music designed to provide clarity – he expected Nie Mingjue to be there, steady as a rock and just as unshakable, and so, to all appearances, he was. There was no reason to check any further.

He played.

Nie Huaisang listened, his eyes narrowing in a smile – oh, san-ge, he sighed. Oh, Meng Yao.

I always knew we were too much the same.

He did nothing, though, nothing but wait for the song to finish and Jin Guangyao to take his leave, bowing, and then he said, “Will you spend some time with Nie Huaisang today, before you return? He’s still upset from yesterday and not speaking to me.”

Why would he be speaking to his da-ge now? His brother was asleep, just as he ought to be, and speaking to him would only wake him.

Jin Guangyao had been expecting this, too. “Of course, da-ge,” he murmured, and Nie ‘Mingjue’ scowled, Nie Huisang scowled – no one who wanted to really hurt his brother deserved to use that term.

“Dismissed,” he said, and waited until Jin Guangyao left to remove the disguise, drifting out after him, calling, “San-ge!”

Jin Guangyao turned with a smile and Nie Huaisang threw himself forward, wrapping himself around his sworn brother-by-proxy’s dominant arm – he could use both, but he had a preference if you cared to look – and immediately burst out into chatter, complaints and stuff and nonsense, wailing on and on and on about how wronged he had been.

His voice modulated itself into a melody, the cadence quickening and slowing, rising and falling, infused with his own very special cultivation, and it wasn’t that much different from what it normally was – and Jin Guangyao wasn’t really listening to him anymore, anyway, not any more than it took to respond with a few hums of sympathy and the occasional word of consolation.  Why would he? The situation wasn’t anything different from normal, from the boring and mundane and uninteresting, what with there being complaining and whining and Nie Huaisang, a younger brother that he trusted, even if only to be a complete idiot. Absolutely harmless.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t the cultivation genius Nie Mingjue was, but he’d had a very long way to go to catch up; he wouldn’t have made it to where he was now if he hadn’t taught himself the habit of constantly cultivating, drawing in qi from the outside and channeling it inwards. He did so now, unconsciously, spreading the effect throughout his entire body, pulling him inch by inch into something nice and comfortable, pleasantly restful.

There was no need for schemes with Nie Huaisang, after all. He was so silly, so useless; he couldn’t even really be used, only indulged, like the little brother Meng Yao had never been able to afford to have growing up. Look at how dependent he was: scared to do anything else, wholly in the palm of his hand.  

There was nothing to fear.

There was only –

Listening.

Give me your heart.

[bettydice]

I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated 

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 7

The night after their date, which was both a disaster and the best date he’s ever had, Jiang Cheng can't sleep. He keeps thinking about Lan Xichen’s shaking hands, the kiss, the kisses that followed, about not casually, about Wei Wuxian dating Lan Xichen's brother. About how if they're not casual, then he'll have to get over himself and at least be able to be in a room together with Wei Wuxian, or Lan Xichen will just be another person suffering from this stupid situation.

If they're… If they are something now. If it lasts. He wants it to last. Which is another thing keeping him awake. How much he already feels for Lan Xichen. How his brain has no problem providing him with… Domestic scenarios. That eventually turn into not so domestic ones. But he’s too tired to do anything about his arousal, so his brain instead comes up with scenarios where Lan Xichen tells him he regrets everything about yesterday and does not want to see him again. Those are… not fun.

Eventually, morning comes. Jiang Cheng stays in bed. He has nothing to do today, he’s tired, and there’s nothing waiting for him in his kitchen except for dirty dishes. So, he grabs his phone and watches some cute bunny compilations on YouTube. After the fifth video he does feel better, so when Wei Wuxian’s daily selfie arrives (Wei Wuxian holds up a very large mug of coffee, winking at the camera), Jiang Cheng doesn’t even get angry or sad. He actually has to smile.

He immediately gets up, gets dressed, doesn’t open the door to his kitchen, and takes the bus to his sister’s house.

Jiang Yanli doesn’t even question why he’s there, simply sets the breakfast table for one more person. Jin Zixuan also doesn’t question him, simply makes him some really strong coffee. After breakfast, he's handed Jin Ling, so his sister and her husband can do some chores, which suits him just fine, because Jin Ling is perfect and amazing and the only one who understands him. He's also a little tired and grumpy today - relatable - so Jiang Cheng ends up on the couch with Jin Ling napping on his chest. Which, alas, means he can't move because he'd wake his precious nephew. With Jin Ling’s reassuring weight keeping him glued to the couch, Jiang Cheng has no choice but to close his eyes.

"A-Cheng. Are you asleep?"

"Mhm."

"A-Cheng, wake up."

When he pries open his eyes, he sees his sister, sitting in the armchair next to the sofa, smiling at them.

"I can't move," Jiang Cheng explains.

"I understand." Of course she does, A-Jie always understands.

He does try to assume a sort of sitting position, so he can better look at her, making sure A-Ling still stays in prime napping position. She has That Look on her face, meaning she wants to Talk About Things, but won't necessarily push him.

"It's really nice that you stopped by today," Jiang Yanli says, and without calling in advance to make sure Wei Wuxian definitely won't be there goes unsaid but not unheard.

"I missed my nephew." Jiang Cheng looks down at A-Ling and smiles. He can’t see much more than one of his chubby cheeks smushed against Jiang Cheng’s chest, and it’s adorable.

"And he missed you." Jiang Yanli smiles and leans forward, so she can gently stroke A-Ling's head. "Did you have a good week?"

Jiang Cheng has to think about Lan Xichen and his kisses and his smile widens, grows impossibly soft, before he quickly tries to wipe it off his face. His sister notices it, of course, as evidenced by her slightly raised eyebrows." Yeah… It was good. "

Jiang Cheng hesitates, because he's not actually sure whether he wants to tell his sister about… All of that. For one, she's paying for his sessions. And it still doesn't feel quite real. Ten days ago he felt horrible and lonely and now Lan Xichen kissed him and is attracted to him and said "slowly, but not casually", which… Does this mean they're boyfriends? That's too quickly, isn't it? But they're not dating, because they both hate dating, but they’re not casual, so the logical conclusion…

"A-Cheng?" Apparently not the first time she's called his name.

"I think I have a boyfriend," is not what he wanted to say and yet his stupid mouth fucking betrays him. Jiang Yanli looks stunned for a few seconds - understandable - then a warm smile spreads over her face. Jiang Cheng lifts his hand, before she can say anything. "I'm… I'm not sure I want to talk about it. It's obviously a recent and surprising turn of events and who knows if anything will actually come of it, you know how I am with relationships, they end before they can start - "

"It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything, if you’re not ready yet."

Jiang Cheng gives her a grateful smile. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but…

"How are your massage sessions going? How many have you had yet?" A seemingly random change of topic, but considering…

"Oh… Those are… Good. Relaxing." Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at his sister who looks so unassuming and innocent… Fuck. She knows. Jiang Cheng's face immediately grows hot. He doesn't know why he ever even tries to keep a secret in this family. "A-jie, how did you.. It's not… He is…"

"As I said, you don't have to talk about it. But you can. You can always talk to me. About anything."

She doesn’t mean it as a reprimand, but Jiang Cheng immediately feels guilty. He has been … many things, these past few months. Has sometimes been unfairly angry at his sister, because she still meets with Wei Wuxian, because Wei Wuxian didn't abandon her, too. Has visited less, and not only because he didn't want to risk bumping into his brother. Hadn’t wanted his sister to know how poorly he was doing, to realise how shitty everything in his life was going.

"I know. Sorry, A-jie."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Just… For being an idiot."

His sister’s smile stays warm, but her tone is a little stern when she says: "You're not an idiot." She leans forward and gently strokes his forehead. Just like she usually does with A-Ling. Just like...

The door opens and someone enters the room. Jiang Cheng turns towards the wall, mortified. Since his sister isn’t home, it must be Wei Wuxian.

“Fuck off.”

Wei Wuxian does not, of course, fuck off. Instead, he comes over and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“I really liked your poem. Which is saying a lot, because I barely made it through without screaming. Horrifying subject matter.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer, just squeezes his eyes shut and tries to get his tears to stop falling with the power of his mind.

“You described that dog in such vivid detail, I thought I’d have a heart attack!”

Is Wei Wuxian here to make fun of him? He knows it was just a stupid little poem that can’t compare to getting first place at that stupid science fair. Isn’t it enough to hear that from his mother - does his brother have to rub it in, too? He knows he’s pathetic, crying about this like a little boy.

“Huaisang was raving about it all afternoon. He really liked the… meter you used. Whatever that means.”

Jiang Cheng wipes his face and turns around. Just enough so he can see his brother out of the corner of his eye. “He said that?”

“Yeah! He also said ‘I didn’t realise Jiang Cheng was able to create such beautiful metaphors, I think I’m going to put him on my list of people I’d allow to give me a blowjob.”

Jiang Cheng groans and fully turns around, so he can throw a pillow at his brother. “He didn’t say that!”

Wei Wuxian easily catches the pillow and grins. “It was implied! Anyway… I thought, maybe you want to write some lyrics for Yiling Laozu? I feel like our metaphor game is really lacking at the moment.”

Jiang Cheng frowns. “If you’re just taking the piss…”

“I mean it!” Wei Wuxians reaches out like he wants to wipe Jiang Cheng’s tears, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he starts stroking Jiang Cheng’s forehead.

Jiang Cheng feels… like his tears are going to return. He frowns even harder. “I’m not a fucking baby. Stop that.”

“Aw, but that’s where you’re wrong! You’re my baby brother! Sweet little ChengCheng!”

“Fuck off!”

Jiang Cheng tries to shove Wei Wuxian from the bed with his foot, but Wei Wuxian tackles him instead, wraps his arms around him and squeezes him. Coos into his ear in a disgustingly sweet voice: “My talented Didi! My precious A-Di! Just a tiny, tiny baby with the heart of a poet!”

Jiang Cheng complains loudly and tries to free himself. But he can’t help but laugh.

"Wei Wuxian sends me a selfie every morning." Once again, his stupid mouth does things without his permission.

"Does he now." Jiang Yanli doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the fact Jiang Cheng’s word vomit jumps from possible boyfriend to Wei Wuxian’s selfies.

"He wouldn't do that if he didn't want anything to do with me… Right?"

"He wouldn't. He misses you.” Jiang Yanli, still stroking his head, hesitates, before she says: “Maybe you can consider it… an opening?"

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes for a while, as though that would help him sort the emotional chaos in his mind.

"Wei Wuxian is dating Lan Xichen's brother."

"Yes."

"Are they… Is it serious?"

Just like Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian never had relationships. But not because he was inherently unlovable or scared everyone off with his frown, or anything like that. He used to get crushes all the time that fizzled out just as quickly, said it would be too selfish to be tied down, everyone should be able to enjoy the wonders of being with Wei Wuxian. Though his brother also got way less action than he let people assume.

"Oh, they're… definitely serious." Jiang Yanli laughs.Jiang Cheng opens his eyes again. He wants to ask more, as though now he's fed the monster in his chest scraps of Wei Wuxian’s life, it has realised it’s been starving and craves more and more.

In comparison, it actually seems safer to talk about Lan Xichen. "Lan Xichen might be my boyfriend. Possibly. Hopefully?"

Jiang Yanli, once again, doesn’t comment on the topic change. She does pull back her hand and sits upright, a curious look on her face. "Might?"

"So, we went on a date and we concluded we both dislike dating but like each other and… And he said we should do this ‘slowly, but not casually’. And we… Well, the date ended very… It was nice. So. What do you think?"

He resolutely stares at a spot just above Jiang Yanli's shoulder, refusing to acknowledge his burning face. He's just hot because he's trapped under his nephew who is in the 93rd percentile of weight for toddlers his age. Jiang Cheng’s not sure what it means, but he chooses to believe that A-Ling is stronger and better than 92% of toddlers. And louder than 99%. He’s very proud of his nephew.

"It does sound as though you're both interested in pursuing a relationship with each other."

"So you don't think it's too early?"

"Too early for what?"

"Just… Thinking about him like that."

"You did already like him when you were a teenager."

"What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng does look at her then, mouth open in shock. ”How did you… Nie Huaisang told you, didn't he?"

"He didn't have to." Jiang Yanli tries to hide her smile behind her hand, but Jiang Cheng knows it's there.

Jiang Cheng is just… going to move past this. "But I didn't know him back then. I've not even known him for two weeks and already..."

I'm in love with him. It's not like it's not like him. Jiang Cheng doesn't fall for people often, but when he does, he falls hard. It's just that until now, none of them (none of the two people he’s liked like this before) had ever liked him back.

"Sometimes, two people just fit well together."

Jiang Cheng immediately wants to say "Nobody would fit well with me, I only have sharp edges" but his sister would disagree immediately. And… He can't deny it does feel like they… They just fit, somehow. Even if Jiang Cheng often feels like he doesn't even fit his own skin, like his life doesn't fit him. Spending time with Lan Xichen had been easy from the beginning, the only complications being the issues Jiang Cheng brings into every interaction with another human. And bunny pee.

Jiang Cheng can't help but laugh at the memory.

"Whatever is happening between you two... I'm happy for you. You deserve to be happy, A-Cheng, no matter what you think." Jiang Yanli puts her hand on his shoulder, so he can’t help looking at her. Jiang Cheng does, even though his eyes are burning. His sister looks… intense. The way she looks when something is truly, deeply important to her. "You also deserve to find out that A-Xian doesn't hate you. That he loves and misses you. That he's just as scared he's lost you forever. One of you just has to be brave so you can both realize you still love each other."

Jiang Cheng is saved from having to give a response that's not just crying hysterically, by a very… specific sound coming from his nephew, followed by a very specific smell. Followed by A-Ling waking up and crying, loudly.

"Do you want to take care of this?" his sister asks, resigned to the fact he definitely won’t want to do that. Luckily, there's a solution.

"Jin Zixuan! Hey, come here! Your son is crying for you!" Jiang Cheng yells, sitting upright and carefully holds A-Ling away from his body.

Jin Zixuan does immediately come rushing into the living room, only to frown as soon as the smell hits him.

"Would you mind, A-Xuan…?" his sister asks with the sweetest smile and, of course, Jin Zixuan grabs A-Ling without any complaints, only sends a dark look in Jiang Cheng's direction, who smirks at him.

Jiang Cheng spends the entire day at their house. He helps his sister cook, takes A-Ling to the playground, takes another nap with A-Ling during the afternoon. When hehe falls into his bed at night, his mind feels much quieter and he can sleep peacefully.

Jiang Cheng’s next appointment isn’t until Tuesday, but they exchange a lot of messages in the meantime. Lan Xichen sends him pictures of the bunnies, of his plants, and of his meals. Jiang Cheng, who has neither pets nor meals worthy of taking pictures, suddenly finds himself going on a lot of walks, so he can send Lan Xichen pictures of trees and artsy shots of leaves in puddles. Lan Xichen told him to keep the scarf, so he wears it every time he leaves the house. It keeps him warm.

Now, standing in front of Lan Xichen’s door, Jiang Cheng suddenly feels nervous. They agreed to not mix business with pleasure, so to say. It will be just a very normal session. But Lan Xichen already invited him to stay for dinner after and Jiang Cheng enthusiastically agreed.

It's not a date, because they don't date, but… Will they kiss? He wouldn't mind more kisses…

Lan Xichen greets him with his usual smile and they stare awkwardly at each other for only about ten seconds before Lan Xichen asks him to come inside. He smiles when Jiang Cheng takes off the scarf.

They do manage to keep the session professional, except for one little moment. When Lan Xichen wraps Jiang Cheng in a towel and tucks in the edges, he also tucks a stray hair behind Jang Cheng’s ear. They share a soft look and a smile, then Lan Xichen clears his throat and leaves the room after turning on the music.

Later, they prepare dinner together, and his nervousness earlier turns out to be unfounded. It’s easy for them to just switch into… Jiang Cheng calls it ‘Boyfriend Mode’ in his head, though he’d never say it out loud. Lan Xichen is a very tactile person and Jiang Cheng finds he’s a person who… craves touch. Sometimes their hands will brush against each other, or Jiang Cheng will lean against Lan Xichen, or Lan Xichen will put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s waist or the small of his back. It just seems to come naturally for them and… He never knew or expected it could be this easy.

They kiss. It is simple, like their other touches. Lan Xichen is stirring the pot, while Jiang Cheng tells him about a cute dog he saw during one of his walks. Their eyes meet, Lan Xichen smiles, Jiang Cheng returns the smile. Lan Xichen leans towards him. They kiss. Short, but very tender. Lan Xichen smiles again, his whole face lights up and they kiss again, a little longer. It feels… like a habit. As though they’ve been doing this for a long time, as though they will be doing this for a long time. Which doesn’t mean it’s not also exciting. It makes him feel hot, but in a way that’s soothing… Like drinking hot cocoa after walking through the snow.

During dinner, Lan Xichen asks him about his weekend and Jiang Cheng tells him about the time he spent with A-Ling, which reminds him of the conversation he had with his sister. Jiang Cheng’s first instinct is to ignore that reminder… but Lan Xichen said honesty is very important to him. Jiang Cheng should be upfront. They need to talk about their families and how they want to tell them sooner or later anyway, if this is... And considering their brothers’ relationship… He doesn't want to be responsible for Lan Xichen getting in situations where he might have to lie to his brother or conceal something from him.

So Jiang Cheng spends the rest of the meal trying to mentally prepare himself for yet another conversation about their relationship, possibly about feelings, too. He’s had so many of those in the past few weeks. Maybe all the conversations he’s avoided over the past year can’t be pushed back anymore, and are now trying to break through all at once. Maybe it’s him being selfish… he knows he needs to sort out his life if he wants to be with Lan Xichen. Or maybe… when he cried in front of Lan Xichen and felt safe and understood instead of humiliated… maybe that helped him to stop running away from conversations that scared him.

"Lan-laoshi…There's something I wanted to talk about with you."

"Ah, maybe drop the laoshi when we're... like this?" Lan Xichen chuckles lightly, as he closes the dishwasher. Then he sits back down at the kitchen table and smiles warmly at Jiang Cheng. “What did you want to talk about?”

"Right, I can do that… anyway, I should tell you… I told my sister. About you. Us. This." Jiang Cheng takes a sip from his water, so he stops adding unnecessary words. "I hope that's okay? We didn't really discuss whether… and things are a little complicated right now anyway, with our families… "

Lan Xichen's eyes widen a little. He looks surprised, but not concerned. "Oh, of course. I don’t mind at all."

"Have you… have you told your brother yet?"

"Ah… Wangji knows that there is someone, but… “ Lan Xichen cocks his head, then says softly: “I understand your relationship with Wei Wuxian is somewhat tense at the moment, so… Would you want to tell your brother yourself?"

Jiang Cheng can't help the bitter laugh that escapes him. "I'm not talking to my brother at all these days."

"Oh, I didn't realise… That must be difficult, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's my fault."

Right. Lan Xichen doesn't know. Once he knows, he'll probably be disappointed in him. Maybe get second thoughts after all. He really shouldn't have told his sister, it's too early, too fragile, Nie Huaisang knows too… Soon, they'll both know when Jiang Cheng gets rightfully dumped and…

Lan Xichen rests his hand warmly on top of Jiang Cheng's. His eyes and his smile are just as warm. The gesture is both a reassurance and an invitation. Jiang Cheng doesn’t have to talk about it, doesn’t have to say anything, but he could.

And he really can. He could… tell Lan Xichen anything. Show him the worst parts of himself and… Even if it changes his opinion of Jiang Cheng, he wouldn’t make him feel worse than he already does.

It's not really a conversation that can be avoided, is it? So he should just go ahead and get it over with.

“I do want to tell you… it’s just…” Jiang Cheng sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I’m not sure I can do… I’ve never… So I don’t know how I would… I might be a mess.”

Lan Xichen simply smiles, nods, and says: “Alright.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jiang Cheng is sitting on the couch, a pot of tea is on the table in front of him, and the bunnies are exploring the living room. Lan Xichen places a box of tissues on the couch table, before sitting down next to him. Jiang Cheng can’t help but laugh at that.

He’s never actually tried to put into words what happened, because Jiang Yanli knows what happened. He assumes Wei Wuxian told her, anyway, and the rest she must’ve guessed correctly because she knows them so well… And he’s been ignoring anyone else who could ask about it. So now he has to find words to give to Lan Xichen, has to tell him about how horrible Jiang Chang has been, can be, when he wants to show him anything but.

Jiang Cheng is too scared to look at him while he talks. Scared to see the very moment Lan Xichen switches from sympathy to judgment. He doesn’t want to see Lan Xichen’s eyes when they start seeing him the same way Jiang Cheng sees himself.

He tries to stick to the facts: After Jiang Yanli moved in with Jin Zixuan, they sold their family home.Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were going to get a flat closer to uni together. They found one; Jiang Cheng paid for the deposit. A week after the move, the day before their moving in party, Wei Wuxian told him he was moving in with the Wens instead to help take care of A-Yuan, since Wen Ning’s hospital stay didn’t seem to be a short one. Jiang Cheng got angry. They had a fight (Jiang Cheng barely remembers what they said) that ended with Jiang Cheng telling Wei Wuxian he’s free to leave. Specifically told him to ‘go the fuck away and stay away’. And Wei Wuxian listened. In the past year, they’ve seen each other two times: Jiang Yanli’s birthday and Jin Ling’s birthday.

Saying it out loud, hearing it out loud…

“So, in conclusion: I’m a fucking asshole. Now you know.” Jiang Cheng laughs, a bitter sound, and his fingernails dig into his palms. He still can’t look at Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen… doesn’t say anything. But he takes his hand.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes. Will this be followed by ‘I didn’t realise this is the kind of person you are’ or ‘You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this with you’? He knows Lan Xichen won’t actually say either of this, but…

“Wanyin… would you look at me?”

Jiang Cheng really doesn’t want to, but… Lan Xichen said his name so carefully, so gently… He opens his eyes and turns his head.

Lan Xichen’s eyes are still kind.

Jiang Cheng’s heart draws tight, so tight it hurts. And then… it softens.

Lan Xichen smiles. This is not unusual. After all, he’s very generous with his smiles. Jiang Cheng still finds himself surprised.

“You must have been very hurt.” Lan Xichen squeezes his hand when he says this. Which is good, because Jiang Cheng can focus on that instead. On the warmth of his hand, his elegant, long fingers covering his. Instead of… How Lan Xichen picked this to focus on, after everything he said.

Did he make it sound like it was Wei Wuxian’s fault? He’s been hiding behind his anger and blame for so long, maybe that has influenced his telling of the events. Maybe Lan Xichen got the wrong idea. “I… Yes, but… that’s no excuse. He was just helping… he was doing the right thing, even if I… and it’s been so long, so I should really… I should have apologized a long time ago, I’m the one who messed it all up.”

“Are you waiting for him to make the first step?”

He can’t hear any judgment in Lan Xichen’s voice. He’s not saying ‘this is your fault, so you should be the one apologizing’. He’s simply asking about Jiang Cheng’s feelings, because he thinks they matter. Though there’s nothing simple about his feelings.

Jiang Cheng has verbalized this part many times. Has said ‘he abandoned me, he should be the one who apologises’, and variations of it, to his sister. But deep down it’s not what he actually thinks. Because Lan Xichen’s eyes are still kind, because he’s holding his hand, because there’s no judgment, because he doesn’t expect him to answer a certain way… Jiang Cheng tries to be honest.

“I think I am. He’s always… Whenever we fought, he was always the one… Well, he didn’t apologise, but he just went back to teasing me, went back to normal… He knows I just get angry, no matter what I actually feel, he used to know that… I thought it’d be the same this time. But… So, maybe he doesn’t want to make up.”

Tears burn in his eyes and he’s not sure it’s even worth the effort trying to hold them back. They’ll spill sooner or later, just like these words are spilling from his mouth, now that he’s allowing them to. He’s still looking at Lan Xichen’s hand. At both their hands, resting on Lan Xichen’s thigh. Lan Xichen’s thumb strokes the back of his hand, so Jiang Cheng continues.

“If I went to him, he would come back. He’s always… I know he would. But I don’t want to be an obligation or a burden for him. I don’t want him to feel pity for me. If he doesn’t want to… And I understand, our relationship has never been easy. We always existed in comparison to each other and I know he held himself back sometimes, to make up for my lacking… I had thought, with my parents gone it would be - which is a horrible thought - but I thought it would get easier, gentler. But I guess I’m still me. So… I understand. And if he thinks I hate him, he’ll stay away. He seems happy with his life, so…”

Jiang Cheng is crying now, can’t even be bothered by it. And there’s still more words waiting to burst out of him, finally freed after a year of living only in the darkest corners of Jiang Cheng’s heart. Lan Xichen still isn’t saying anything, just listens to everything, holds his hand, shares his warmth with Jiang Cheng, so he doesn’t feel cold while baring himself.

“I can’t help it though, I’m still… I’m still angry. Not just at myself, at him. He said we’d always be brothers, would always be together… I know it’s childish, but he shouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. If he was able to just leave like that, he shouldn’t have… They were my friends, too, I could have helped! He just made his choice and left! And fine, if he’s happier that way… Fine! But then he sends me his stupid selfies, every fucking day! Who does that? Why would he… He should just stay gone, if that’s what he wants!”

He draws in a shuddering breath and sinks back against the couch. There. He’s said everything he’s been holding in. He feels… He doesn’t know what he feels. Drained? Relieved?

Though there’s one more thing, one last thought that wants to escape: “I miss him so much.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Jiang Cheng, who is avoiding Lan Xichen’s eyes again, grabs a tissue and wipes his face. He’s thinking about making a ‘funny’ comment about how the tissues did come in handy after all to break the silence, but Lan Xichen is quicker: “Can I give you a hug?”

Jiang Cheng turns to look at him and… He doesn’t know what to make of Lan Xichen’s expression, his voice. There’s understanding and sympathy, but he also looks… sad, maybe, and it feels like he’s asking to be hugged just as much as he’s asking to give a hug. Jiang Cheng nods and immediately, Lan Xichen lets go of his hand, wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. Jiang Cheng returns the hug tightly, buries his face in Lan Xichen’s hair. Tightens his hold whenever Lan Xichen does the same.

The hug is maybe one of the best he’s ever received. Lan Xichen hugs without restraint. Doesn't hold back, doesn’t feel embarrassed about wanting to hold someone. Doesn't feel embarrassed about seeking such closeness.

Jiang Cheng feels warm and safe and… liked. Even after everything he just said. So he keeps holding on to him until Lan Xichen eventually draws back. He doesn’t fully let go of Jiang Cheng, he only pulls away enough to smile down at him.

“Thank you for telling me. That can’t have been easy.”

“Uh, well, thank you for listening. And it… well, actually it ended up being too easy. Sorry, I just kinda barfed up all those words.” Oh fuck, way to ruin a moment.

However, Lan Xichen simply laughs, before he turns more serious again. “Do you want to hear my thoughts? Or do you just want to rest now?”

Oh… He is exhausted. But simply the fact Lan Xichen gives him this choice is enough to makes him want to keep talking. “I’d like to hear what you think.”

Lan Xichen turns a little, so they can look at each other more comfortably. Jiang Cheng also adjusts his position, until they’re facing each other. Lan Xichen takes Jiang Cheng’s hand again, while the other rests on Jiang Cheng’s knee.

“I don’t think you’re an asshole.”

Jiang Cheng grimaces at such an obvious lie. Lan Xichen chuckles and lifts his hand to smooth out Jiang Cheng’s frown with his fingertips. “Don’t frown, let me finish talking.”

He rolls his eyes a little, but stops frowning and nods.

“I think your anger is very understandable. Your hurt, too. It’s easy to look back at this moment and see everything that went wrong, what you could have done better. But back then you were shocked and hurt, so you lashed out. It doesn’t matter if your brother had good intentions, or did ‘the right thing’... that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be upset how it affected you.”

Lan Xichen casually wipes away a tear that escaped Jiang Cheng’s eye and continues talking.

“It seems you’ve carried around this moment since then, have thought about it every day, have regretted it every day. And every additional day you weren’t talking made what you did worse in your eyes. So with every day that goes by, trying to fix it becomes even harder. But I don’t think it’s impossible, not at all. What you told me just now… you could tell it to Wei Wuxian.”

Jiang Cheng, who had been stunned into silence by Lan Xichen’s words simultaneously piercing his heart and soothing it, adamantly shakes his head. Probably frowns again. “ Fuck no. I can’t talk with him about this… I’m not good at talking about my feelings.”

“Oh?” Lan Xichen seems to be holding back a laugh. “But you just did it. Very well, in my opinion.”

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“Well… because you’re you. And Wei Wuxian and I… we never talked about the painful stuff because we knew it would end badly. And even if I would manage to talk about it without getting angry or saying hurtful things… Getting him to talk honestly about his feelings would be just as difficult.”

“Maybe he’s been thinking about this as much as you did and has his own regrets.”

Jiang Cheng's first instinct is, of course, to disagree, but… Lan Xichen has said so many things he wants to be true, has said things that felt true… “Yeah… maybe.”

“I know confronting the issue is scary. But maybe it’s more scary to think this… hm… this limbo you’re in will continue? You’re regretting, you’re missing him… but you’re also still hoping. I think so, anyway.”

“Yeah…” Jiang Cheng rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah… maybe… “

Lan Xichen looks at him fondly, eyes crinkling. He caresses his cheek again, wiping a few more tears in the process. Jiang Cheng would like to hug him again, would like to kiss him, to bury himself in his warmth. But he realises he really needs to blow his nose, so he does that instead of any of those much nicer things. “Ugh… sorry. Somehow I always end up crying all over you.”

“Ah, last time it was my turn, now you again… it can be our thing.”

Jiang Cheng gives him an incredulous look and they both laugh. “No thank you, that sounds exhausting. I’m sure we can think of something less emotionally draining.”

Lan Xichen hums, clearly amused and presses a kiss to the back of Jiang Cheng’s hand. “True, that would definitely be preferable. But… just for the record… I do not mind. Thank you for trusting me with this. I know how difficult it is to show someone… the parts of yourself you’re ashamed of. It’s something I’m still struggling with. ...As you know.”

Lan Xichen seems embarrassed, which Jiang Cheng cannot accept, so he lifts their hands and presses a kiss to Lan Xichen’s hand this time. “I do trust you. And I… you’re much better at all of this, of course, but you can trust me too, with stuff like that. I’ll try to be… you know... Uhm, anyway, I think I do feel catharsis now! So maybe that’s just our thing, haha.”

“Mhm, definitely sounds better than emotional devastation. Though I suppose they often are closely linked.”

They share another smile, and Jiang Cheng once again thinks how much he’d like to kiss him. But once again, he doesn’t. He suddenly becomes painfully aware of the dried tears on his cheeks, so he excuses himself to go wash his face. He returns to Lan Xichen sitting on the floor between the bunnies and joins him.

This time, Cloud doesn’t pee on him. Lan Xichen still drives him home later and they kiss in the car.

There’s an underlying tenderness every time Lan Xichen touches him. Jiang Cheng only hopes his own touch feels the same. But this kiss… It’s really… They’ve been good at kissing from the start. But this time…It leaves him breathless.

It’s a kiss like their hug earlier. Without embarrassment. Without the need to hold back or hide any feelings. Even though Lan Xichen would have every reason to be cautious.

Once they’ve caught their breath, Lan Xichen invites him over for Thursday afternoon. No massage this time. Just a walk, then tea and cake at his apartment after. Jiang Cheng agrees, obviously. Even if he had class or something, he’d probably still agree. After a kiss like that…

Later, he finds himself in bed with a notebook. It’s a present Wei Wuxian got him - made for him - for his 18th birthday. It has Jiang Cheng’s poems, in beautiful calligraphy… and with illustrations by Wei Wuxian. He even drew a dog for him.

Wei Wuxian… probably misses him, too.

Maybe they can be better brothers after all this. Maybe Jiang Cheng can be a better brother.

The thought of contacting him is still terrifying. But… it feels like the terror becomes smaller.

So, maybe soon…

[yeeyeetyeehaw]

The Arcana

The Main six with a pregnant MC

Asra:

Touchy. He likes to feel you and the baby, he can sense their magic.

“Their aura...it’s beautiful...”

Cannot WAIT to see his child

Very insistent on proper diet and exercise while you’re expecting, he wants both of you to be healthy

Faust keeps herself wound around your belly for protection, so she can keep the baby safe. She’s very excited to meet them. “...Baby!”

He’s very accommodating to your requests, especially the cravings. He knows what you want before you do. “Asra-“ “The skink is on the stove, love.”

But you’ll never lift anything over five pounds either. Not in this house.

Very invested in the pregnancy, reads up on childcare, and makes a list of everything your baby will need.

Aisha and Salim are over a lot, too happy to be grandparents.

They missed out on Asra’s childhood and they’ll be damned if they miss their grandchild’s

Nadia:

Loves your baby bump so much. She always has you sit by her side with a hand sitting on it protectively

Has a nearby wing converted into a nursery after she cleanses burns Lucio’s

Summons private physicians and midwives to look after you during the process, carefully taking note of your needs.

The chefs will have a specialized pregnancy menu for you, and will suit any cravings you may have

Bath time for when you’re sore, and she’ll give you a massage afterward.

“Come now my darling, you’ve had a long day.”

Chandra keeps a careful eye on you while Nadia attends to court business, always making sure you are safe and comfortable

Takes you on strolls through the garden to keep you active, is always careful of your limits though.

Cuddles are an all day affair, they don’t come often, but Nadia will spend endless hours with you in bed if you asked it of her

Nasrin and Namar frequently send gifts, and eagerly await the birth. Nadia’s sisters visit often, especially Natiqa. Nazali checks in on you from time to time

“Oh Didi! You’ve made us aunties!” —Nasmira or Navra at some point.

Julian:

Through the roof at first, PUMPED to be a dad. “I’m gonna be a father!....I’m gonna be a father.” He’ll get over it.

Very insistent you get ample amounts of rest and food. “Bed rest my dear.” “Ilya, I’m only a month in...”

Do not even THINK about lifting anything yourself. “Don’t strain yourself!” “Ilya it’s a PAPERCLIP!”

A bit overbearing, but he means well

On top of your cravings. As soon as the words leave your mouth he is out the door

Malak likes to perch on your windowsill and sing to the baby, the kicks you get in return are worth it.

Tries to spend every waking moment either with you or at the office to earn money for the baby

Is probably going to try and deliver his own child. Mazelinka won’t have it.

Mazelinka stops by almost daily, and brings delicious healing brews for your morning sickness and food (you can actually keep down) with her.

Portia will spend time with you and bring little knitted clothes for the baby. “Auntie is best” is on most of them. “Auntie Portia, I like it!”

Gives you baths with salts from Nevivon for swelling and muscle aches

Cuddles solve everything else, especially pregnancy migraines.

Muriel:

Knows little about babies, but he’s so happy he’s having one with you

Very concerned...you’re so small...and your belly is so big

Inanna never leaves your side, she is a constant companion and cuddles with you when you’re sore

Muriel carries you everywhere. there will be no walking by yourself

Gives you little charms for any morning sickness and nausea

Sends Asra to buy things for your cravings, he doesn’t want to leave your side, but he’ll brave the crowds if need be

Always has wood in the fireplace

You get the best furs, without question

Has Julian, as much as he dislikes him, over often to check on you

Takes you to the river to cool off, pregnancy makes women hot, and you might coerce him to join you

Will let you feed the chickens if you want exercise

Uncle Asra is over as much as possible, sometimes with gifts. “This is from Nopal, it’s good for fussy babies who don’t sleep, and I brewed this one for you, for the soreness.” (He’s such a sweetheart)

Portia:

“I’m a mommy!!!”

Through the roof! She’s so happy!

Knows all kinds of herbs to help with nausea and morning sickness

Keeps you at home to rest

Mazelinka is proud, she likes to see you two happy, occasionally brings some brews to help the baby’s health

Uncle Jules is over often, as both your physician and an aspiring ‘fun uncle’

“Ilya If this baby gets any ideas...” Portia is pretty serious about his (admittedly) harebrained shenanigans

Pepi is always curled up on your belly, and will lay there even when the baby is kicking.

Knits baby clothes w matching sets for Pepi. Tiny little booties!!! And caps!!

Nadia gifts you an extension on your house for a nursery, and Portia spends hours decorating it

Takes you on walks or lets you help tend certain areas of her garden for some light exercise

Lucio:

Is ecstatic to meet his child

“They will be my legacy!!”

Already spoiling the both of you, with gifts and an entire wing of the palace dedicated to his child

You are NOT allowed out of bed. Ever.

Anything you want, servants are waiting hand and foot

Cravings? You have a personal chef.

Soreness? You have a personal masseuse

Nausea and morning sickness? He’s hired the top physicians and they are here to stay

Throws grand celebrations to welcome his heir properly. The masquerade is yesterday’s news.

Buys lavish baby clothes and gives your child precious gems and metals.

“They need a crown if they’re going to rule.” -Lucio, handing you a diamond encrusted golden crown

[satonthelotuspier]

Hey guys! Right, Xichen Week is here (on twitter)! We all know by now I have a XiCheng fixation, so to confuse matters I opened with NieLan. This can be classed as an extra for the Spring Rain AU, and its set during the months Nie Mingjue spent in the Cloud Recesses as a teenager. It’s sweet first love feels and family feels; and includes a young Lan Wangji.

Prompt pallette for the day is “Gentians - Brother - Hug” - 1.9k words

The Water’s Memories of Us - Xichen Week Day 1

Nie Mingjue stepped in careful time with Lan Xichen as they walked through the pathways of the Cloud Recesses. The fresh spring breeze rustled through the leaves of magnolia trees and soft azalea bushes, bringing with it a gentle sting of cool mountain air and the sweet smell of pine as it took hold and tugged softly at the strands of ink-dark hair and teased them from their grip on snow white robes.

Nie Mingjue was mesmerised by the movement, and had to fight the urge to reach out and pick up a silky strand of that hair and raise it to his lips. He knew it would smell of sandalwood and jasmine; they were the scents he associated with Lan Xichen, and if he occasionally ensured he stood just a little too close to the younger boy to catch a hint of them, who could possibly blame him?

Lan Xichen turned to him to make some response, his warm, dark gaze holding Nie Mingjue’s, as his mouth shaped a gentle curve. It took every shred of self-control the older boy had not to lean in and taste the sweetness of his smile.

He liked Lan Xichen. He had been enchanted since the first time he’d laid eyes on the first Jade of Lan during a visit he had made to Qinghe with Lan Qiren.

Nie Mingjue also thought Lan Xichen liked him back; he had noticed the stumble of distraction the younger man had almost managed to hide at that first meeting, and there was a glow of something like an awakening interest in his gaze when they shared a look.

At least that was what Nie Mingjue hoped he saw; hoped it wasn’t just because it was what he wanted to see when the other looked at him..

There was a part of Nie Mingjue that thought he had no right to even lay his eyes on the refined, elegant first son of Lan, no matter how adoring they were; but if Lan Xichen chose to like him, then this butcher’s descendant wouldn’t argue with that.

He was beginning to understand he would give his world to this kind, caring boy, if the other would accept it.

The knowledge had grown over months of shared contact with Lan Xichen. It had been increasingly clear to Nie Mingjue that what he felt was the foundations of romantic attachment; and his steady, serious nature would likely take that feeling and nurture it to an all-consuming first, and only, love.

Nie Mingjue came to a halt as his companion did, and followed the direction of his suddenly melancholy amber gaze.

Lan Xichen’s younger brother, Lan Wangji, knelt by a patch of gentians in a courtyard outside of a house, his slim finger ran gently over one of the bold blue trumpet’s and he looked lost in his own world; so much so that he hadn’t heard them arrive.

Lan Xichen had mentioned the boys had lost their mother at a very young age, and, he had heard mention whilst being in the Cloud Recesses the Gentian House had been where Lan-furen had resided.

Lan Xichen placed a gentle hand on Nie Mingjue’s wrist, silently indicating he stay where he was for the moment, and the other boy moved over to sink to his haunches next to Lan Wangji.

He wished, with everything he had, that he could pull Lan Xichen into his arms and hold him until that wistful sadness lifted from his face, until the clouds left those dark amber eyes and they shone like the sun again.

But he didn’t have the right.

The Two Jades didn’t exchange words; but Nie Mingjue had noticed in his time in the Cloud Recesses the Lan brothers rarely talked; much of what seemed to pass between them was silent, as if they were in each other’s thoughts and didn’t need to verbalise.

After a while Lan Wangji rose to his feet, and Lan Xichen followed, a comforting arm over his brother’s shoulders.

Lan Xichen turned then, and met Nie Mingjue’s eyes, a hint of a still-sad smile in them.

He judged this was his signal that it was now acceptable to approach them. As he did  the beginnings of an idea formed in his mind. He was an overprotective big brother to his own didi, and already, by dint of his feelings for the elder Lan, felt a need to shelter the younger as much as he would Huaisang.

Lan Wangji would not be coddled though, he understood that much from what Lan Xichen had said of his own didi in their letters, and from his own observations while he had been at the Cloud Recesses.

“Lan er-gongzi” he stopped and greeted the young boy as he joined them, and Lan Wangji returned the greeting in kind. “I would like to walk to the river at the back of the mountain this evening. Will you both join me?” he asked politely, and they agreed, Lan Wangji after a brief pause to consider.

They walked, and while they did the sun began to sink in the sky.

He spoke, but it was soft and unimportant, so the Lans could ignore him or respond as they preferred.

The spring mountain breeze still rustled through the grasses, it felt cooler now though as the sky lost colour.

They arrived at the riverbank, and Nie Mingjue approached the large flat stone that overhung it.

“Come and look” he took Lan Xichen’s hand, who took Lan Wangji’s hand. He had them lay stretched out on their stomachs so they all three looked over the lip of the rock and down into the gently gurgling water below.

Their reflections were clearly visible in the last of the dusk light.

“What do you see?” he asked them both, and Lan Xichen laughed.

“Minnows” Lan Xichen pointed, and Nie Mingjue took his wrist in a gentle hand, looking at Lan Wangji, who rolled his eyes in a rare show of amusement at his elder brother.

“Lan Xichen, you do not have the soul of a poet” Nie Mingjue accused insincerely; the other boy was the very essence of poetry come to life. Lan Xichen play-pouted and Nie Mingjue let go of his wrist as Lan Wangji looked back at the water.

“I see us. It’s the water’s memories of us” the younger boy said simply, lowering a hand into the river to break their reflections.

“It is. You can’t touch them. But they’ll always be there to look at, if you need to see” Nie Mingjue reached down and dipped his hand into the water too.

He let his words sink in for both of his companions.

Lan Xichen gave his arm a quick squeeze as he realised what Nie Mingjue had said, what he had demonstrated, and Nie Mingjue felt warm down to the soles of his feet. He turned a little, and met Lan Xichen’s eyes, full of beaming bright smile.

When he saw that expression, like Nie Mingjue had just handed him the most precious thing in the world, he knew it was no longer the beginnings of attachment, he had fallen irrevocably in love with the First Jade of Lan.

The realisation, even though he had known it would likely happen sooner or later, drove the air from his lungs.

He would have caught his breath eventually, had not a shock of cold mountain water hit him full in the face as Lan Xichen splashed him.

“Lan Xichen!” he boomed in accusation as he jumped to his feet; the quick, graceful Lan-gongzi was already half way across the river in escape, however, up to his knees in the water.

“Wangji, save me!” Lan Xichen called helplessly at the approach of the bigger boy.

***

What ensued was all out water warfare, and Lan Xichen could barely believe the sight of his normally stoic, rigid brother let go for a while to act like a normal boy would. Wangji even let out a whoop of joy as he landed an attack on Lan Xichen.

“Betrayed by my own kin” Lan Xichen clutched his heart dramatically, trying, and failing, to hold in his grin.

They romped and splashed each other, and eventually the two Lans joined forced to bring down the Qinghe Nie sect.

“Victory for Gusu Lan” Lan Xichen crowed, before he waded across to help Nie Mingjue back to his feet.

It was very magnanimous of Qinghe Nie to not take advantage and dunk Gusu Lan in retribution, but it had darkened, and the air temperature had dropped and they were starting to feel the chill.

“We should go back” Lan Xichen then began to wade to the bank.

They had one more battle to fight, however, when Lan Wangji’s boots became stuck in the mud by the riverbank.

“Leave them, I’ll carry you, just don’t tell Shufu” Lan Xichen winked conspiratorially as he knelt in front of Lan Wangji, who climbed onto his back, wrapping his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck in a tight hug, and laying his head against his shoulder.

They made their way back to the Cloud Recesses, each beginning to shiver a little as the warmth of their play faded and the chill of wet robes and cold night air set in.

Despite the cold Lan Xichen was warmed more than he could say by the memory of Lan Wangji acting so carefree and happy, and he would forever be grateful to Nie Mingjue for giving him, and his brother, that short time of freedom.

He had been falling in love with the older boy steadily and for many months now, and indeed how could he not when Nie Mingjue treated him like he was the most precious, important thing in the world? When he gave just as much attention and care to the people that were important to Lan Xichen, like his younger brother?

They reached the Cloud Recesses, and Lan Xichen paused very briefly to say to Nie Mingjue, “Thank you for your company tonight, Mingjue-xiong, please ensure you take a warm bath as soon as possible”

They parted and Lan Xichen continued, back to Wangji’s room, where he arranged a  bath. He left Wangji to bathe and warm up in privacy, bringing him fresh sleeping robes as he finished.

“Xiongzhang, I can do that” he informed, as Lan Xichen sat on a stool beside his bed to dry his hair for him.

“I know, let your Xiongzhang look after you sometimes still, Wangji, you’re so grown up now, I miss taking care of you”

Lan Wangji let the issue go at Lan Xichen’s plaintive words, although he reminded, “Xiongzhang should bathe too”

Lan Xichen was of course still in his wet robes from their river adventure.

“I will, in a few minutes” they spent a while in companionable silence as Lan Xichen worked diligently, then began to run a comb through Lan Wangji’s hair.

Some time later, as the younger Lan lay under his blankets and on the cusp of drifting off to sleep he murmured softly, “I like Mingjue-xiong, he makes Xiongzhang smile, ones that show in his eyes too”

Lan Xichen’s heart squeezed tight in his chest; the love he held for both of the boys he had spent his evening with just seemed to fill him up, until he felt so full of it it had to escape in tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away, and stroked his brother’s hair softly.

“I like Mingjue-xiong too. But never forget that Wangji makes his Xiongzhang smile like that too” he stayed a little longer, wishing this night never had to end, only rising to leave as Wangji’s breathing evened out in sleep.

I have up to day 3 most finished now; I’ll be trying to hit each day, so if you’re bored from quarantines etc I hope I can help entertain you even a little this week.

[enbyleighlines]

For your modern au prompts, how about Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang best friends going on a shopping trip?

Oooh, sounds good to me!! I hope you don’t mind that I took liberties with what constitutes as a shopping trip! This idea popped into my head, and I wanted to explore it~

—

The bell on the front door gives a twinkling little jingle as they enter. Immediately, the familiar aroma of Wei Wuxian’s favorite arts and craft store rubs against his nostrils like an affectionate cat.

Beside him, Nie Huaisang walks with a spring in their step. In the crook of their elbow, they carry a small but finely crafted handbag, as though they’re a rich socialite on a shopping spree in the big city. “Here we are,” Nie Huaisang says, excitement giving their voice a fun lyrical quality, “Where shall we start, Wuxian-xiong?”

Wei Wuxian can’t help the wide grin that breaks across his face. He scoops up one of the shopping baskets by the entrance. “We should start from the ground up,” he decides, logically, “Let’s go see how sturdy their poster board is.”

“We can always glue a layer or two of cardboard to the base,” Nie Huaisang points out.

“True, true.”

The two friends make their way towards the poster aisle. They’re on a mission, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have fun.

They’re making a diorama as their final project for freshman biology. Thankfully, they were allowed to pick their own partners, and since they’ve become quick friends over the course of the year, it was a no brainer.

Their plan is to create a miniature factory, with its walls, machines, and workers, but then label everything as though they’re the parts of a human cell. Wei Wuxian is certain that it will appeal to their teacher’s quirky sense of humor, and earn them a grade worth bragging about. Nie Huaisang is less convinced, but they’re just happy for the opportunity to show off their talent for arts and crafts.

They sift through their manyu options, poster boards of all different sizes, material, colors, and even textures.

Nie Huaisang pulls out out of the rack and gasps delicately, as though they’re holding a precious treasure. “Wuxian-xiong,” they say, “Feel this one. Isn’t it just like the gritty texture of cement?”

Wei Wuxian runs the tips of his fingers over the rough surface. “Oh wow, you’re right! But won’t that make it difficult to glue things to it?”

“Ah, I hadn’t considered that!” Nie Huaisang gives the poster board another longing-filled stroke. “Perhaps we can use little metal stands for the figurines, and stick the metal through the poster?”

Seeing that his friend’s heart is set on the poster board, Wei Wuxian nods. “Yeah, that could work! We’ll definitely need to add some cardboard to the base, though. We get a bunch of cardboard boxes at the restaurant from shipments and stuff. I’m sure Jiang-shushu won’t mind if we take one.”

Nie Huaisang eagerly takes the paper board and rolls it up. It’s still too long to fit in the basket, but at least they could carry it one-handed. “What next, Wuxian-xiong?”

“Metal wire for the stands, probably,” Wei Wuxian answers, “And maybe some of those things they use in gardens, with the names of plants on them? We can use those to label stuff. Would they have those here? If not, we can probably make our own...”

“There’s a gardening store around the corner,” Nie Huaisang says helpfully.

Wei Wuxian nods sagely. “That’ll do. Oh, and we should probably be keeping track of how much everything costs. How much did Nie Mingjue give you to spend?”

Nie Huaisang gives Wei Wuxian an incredibly self-satisfied smirk. They dig into the handbag and fish out a stack of folded bills. “Oh, we don’t need to worry about money,” they assure Wei Wuxian smugly, “My Gege gave me more than enough.”

Wei Wuxian whistles.

Nie Mingjue, Huaisang’s half-brother, took over management of the family business recently. He’s also been the one looking after Huaisang ever since their parents retired to travel the world. Mingjue likes to pretend that he’s a strict disciplinarian, yet he spends money on Huaisang like it’s going out of style.

To hear Nie Huaisang tell it, they’ve always been a spoiled child. But it seems as though it’s gotten even worse ever since Nie Mingjue became Huaisang’s primary guardian.

Nie Huaisang giggles behind their wad of cash. “So, yeah,” they say, “Money is not an issue.”

Wei Wuxian might be jealous if he was the type of person to get jealous. Instead, he only laughs in delight. “That’s good to know! Let’s take proper advantage of your Da-gege’s generosity, then!”

—

They quickly fill up the basket and have to upgrade to a cart. They take their time choosing the plastic figurines. There aren’t any factory workers, but there are some crossing guards, and a man in an astronaut suit, and they figure they can just pain over them. Nie Huaisang already has a decent collection of paints, but they also grab some new brushes, along with a fine point pen.

Then it’s off to the gardening store for some plastic plant markers, with tips sharp enough to pierce through paper and cardboard. While they’re there, they also grab some short two-inch fences and some mesh to use in constructing the cell walls.

They bring their haul back to the Jiang residence, because it’s closer.

The Jiang house is unusually quiet. Jiang Cheng is at soccer practice, and Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan are both at work at the restaurant. Jiang Yanli is home, though. She greets them at the door, and then immediately moves to prepare tea and snacks for them.

“Your supply run went well, I see,” she says, as she putters around the kitchen.

Wei Wuxian makes sure to plant a big, loud kiss to her cheek before he starts unloading things onto the dining room table. “It went great, actually,” he says, “Jiejie, you have to see all these awesome things we found!”

Nie Huaisang hovers a tad awkwardly in between the kitchen and dining room. It’s not the first time they’ve been to Wei Wuxian’s house, but it’s not a routine experience, either.

Glancing over her shoulder, Jiang Yanli examines the enormity of their haul with a worried expression. The cause of her concern becomes clear when she says, “I hope you didn’t have to use up all of your allowance on this school project, A-Xian.”

“Nope!” Wei Wuxian beams at her. “I didn’t spend a penny. Huaisang-xiong’s rich Gege footed the bill.”

“That... was probably not the best way to phrase that,” Nie Huaisang murmurs to Wei Wuxian, “Please let your Jiejie know you meant my actual Gege, and not an older guy who spends money on me like I’m his sugar baby.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. And then he starts snickering loudly. “She’s not going to assume that,” he assures them.

“What will I not assume?” Jiang Yanli places a plate of rice crackers on the kitchen’s island, and raises one of her brows at them.

Nie Huaisang grabs Wei Wuxian’s arm to stop him, but it’s too late.

“Huaisang-xiong doesn’t want you thinking they have a sugar daddy,” Wei Wuxian confesses, “So they want me to emphasize that, in this case, I used the term ‘their Gege’ to refer to Nie Mingjue.”

Nie Huaisang looks like they want to melt into the floor.

But Jiang Yanli only giggles, demurely, behind the cover of her hand. “Well, I’m glad you clarified that,” she teases both of them, “Both of you are too young to have sugar daddies, anyway. Come, and have some rice crackers while the tea steeps.”

The two freshmen each hop up onto one of the stools obediently. Wei Wuxian stuffs his mouth without thought, while Nie Huaisang carefully nibbles at their cracker like a timid mouse.

There’s a bit of companionable silence. Jiang Yanli pours them each a cup of green tea, and then moves the sugar bowl within their reach.

Then she sits on one of the stools opposite them, and asks, “How are your other final projects coming along?”

Wei Wuxian heaves a dramatic sigh. “Bo-oring,” he singsongs, “It’s all essays and making flashcards for the exams. The same old generic stuff we did in middle school.”

“I get to make a poster for home ec.,” Nie Huaisang offers.

“Ooh, about what?”

“We have to try to design the food pyramid,” Nie Huaisang answers, “Other kids are just making collages out of newspaper clippings, but I want to try my hand at painting the food. I’ve never had a reason to paint food before, except for maybe an apple, back when we were learning how use shading.”

Jiang Yanli smiles. “That sounds fun,” she says, “Just don’t get so caught up in your fun projects that you don’t leave any time for the boring ones.”

“Right,” Nie Huaisang answers automatically.

Wei Wuxian is more lax. “I’ll be fine,” he assures his Jiejie, “Besides, I get my best work done at the last minute.”

Jiang Yanli gives her Didi a look. “That’s not how that works.”

“It is how it works! That spike of adrenaline really helps me get things done,” Wei Wuxian insists, and taps the edge of his nose with a cheeky little smirk.

“But it doesn’t leave you much time to go back and edit, does it?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “I make less mistakes on my first drafts than everyone else does on their final copies! If I start turning in perfect papers, then people might think I’m just showing off.”

“You ARE showing off,” Nie Huaisang snips.

That makes Jiang Yanli giggle again. She shakes her head at Wei Wuxian, but in a fond sort of way. Neither try to continue the argument.

“What about you, Jiejie?” Wei Wuxian asks suddenly, “Any fun final projects?”

“Just exams,” Jiang Yanli answers. She’s a high school junior, two years ahead of them. “Though, my math teacher said that anyone who already has an A in the class doesn’t have to take the final exam.”

“Let me guess,” Wei Wuxian says with no little hint of pride, “You have an A.”

Jiang Yanli hides her mouth behind the rim of her teacup. “I do,” she confirms, and her smile is audible in her tone. “So that’s one less thing for me to worry about.”

“That’s my Jiejie! Smartest girl in the whole world!”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Think so? I know so!”

Nie Huaisang smiles at that. Though the dynamic between Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian is completely different from their relationship with Mingjue, there’s still something vaguely familiar about it.

Just like Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, really. They’ve got completely different temperaments. Wei Wuxian is a natural leader, charismatic, bold, and optimistic. Nie Huaisang tends to follow the herd, being as indiscisive and anxious as they are. Yet the two of them are often on the same wavelength.

That’s probably why, even though they only met for the first time that year, it already feels like they’ve been friends for a long time.

[thechosenwords-blog1]

50 Amazing Birthday Quotes

As you get older, three things happen: the first is your memory goes, and I can’t remember the other two.

In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count, it’s the life in your years.

Nature gives you the face you have at twenty, it is up to you to merit the face you have at fifty.

If life gives you lemons you should make lemonade... and try to find someone whose life has given them vodka, and have a party.

Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive who is you-er than you!

You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.

There are two great days in a person’s life – the day we are born and the day we discover why.

My love for you is endless, I am so happy to be able to watch how you become older. Happy 1st birthday to my handsome prince.

You can't understand what other people are telling you, but for sure you can feel kind and good vibrations. Happy 1st birthday, baby.

You are a small miracle, which has made lives of a dozen people better and brighter. Stay our happiness forever. Happy birthday dear son.

It will take a life just to know you who you really are, but it takes just a moment to see how beautiful your heart is. Thank you for these entire years dear husband. I love spending life with you. Happy Birthday.

Some people are kind, some are handsome, some are sincere, and some are smart. You are all of them in one, hubby. May your dreams come true. Happy 30th Birthday.

Every day with you is another gift. My love for you is endless and unconditional. Have the brightest Birthday hubby the great.

Wish you a God health, wealth, and wisdom. I know that one day you will become a super successful person and I am really excited that I am honoured to be your brother. Let all the blessings come into your life. Happy Birthday little Sister.

Nice to meet you" are the words that are never enough for everyone who knows you to express their respect to you. I love you more than these words can reflect my feelings. Just be happy.

You make me smile every time I call you, you make me cry and sob when we chat because you are my closest friend and I will always be yours. Happy Birthday.

You are my guiding star. You were near in tough and happy moments; I can't express how grateful I am to you. May God bless you dear uncle where you go and in whatever you do. Happy birthday.

Dear aunt, you've managed to become a special person for me. Even my mother and grandma can't substitute you in my heart. Thank you for teaching me so many things in this life. Happy Birthday.

Without you my life is hollow, you are not only my brother, you're my soul mate. I wish you all the best on this special day. Happy Birthday bhai. Your footsteps are the only footsteps, I want to follow.

Bro, you have taught me how to love this world and whatever happened, you were always with me. Happy Birthday.

It is priceless to have such a wonderful brother like you. We share the same childhood memories, the same views on life and you're the one I can count on. Happy Birthday big bro.

Dearest dad, you presented me my life, hundreds of moments of warmth and joy. You taught me to be a wise woman and a good person. Your role in my life is beyond measure. Happy Birthday papa.

Dear didi, you've managed to turn this black and white world into a fairy tale for me. Thank you for filling my life with bright colours. Your support is always what I need. Happy Birthday.

Sister, you have a big and loving heart. You deserve all the best in this world. I wish you plenty of love, happiness, good health, laughter, joy and wonders. Happy Birthday.

My mom is the sweetest woman in the world, you are beautiful and that's true. I thank God every day for you; I will be nothing without you. Happy Birthday, my dear, I love you.

Happy birthday, my dearest mother. You taught me how to be courageous and compassionate; you always loved me unconditionally even when my mood was transitional. From all my heart, let me tell you that I love you more than life.

Dear mother. I am thinking about you wherever I go, that is why I want you to know that nobody lifts me up like you do. I love you. Happy Birthday.

May you achieve success beyond its bounds. May this year God shower you with all his blessings and love. Your birthday is the first day of another 365-day journey. Be the shining thread always and make this year be your best ever. Enjoy your day. Happy birthday friend.

My Birthday wish for you is that you continue to love life and never stop dreaming. May beauty and happiness surround you not only on your special day but always. Words alone are not enough to express how happy I am you are celebrating another year of your life. Happy birthday dear.

This is my earnest prayer for you dear son. May the love of God be with you all day through with his endless, boundless grace. May he richly bless your life with much happiness and success. Happy birth day dear son. I am proud of you

Birthdays are a new start; fresh beginnings, a time to start new endeavours with new goals. Move forward with fresh confidence and courage. You are a special person, may you have an amazing today and year. Happy birthday dear friend.

Don’t light the candles before I arrive! Happy birthday and see you tonight!

Can miles truly separate you from friends? If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there? Happy birthday dear!

Distance is nothing, when someone means everything! Happy birthday, wish you the best!

You’re older than yesterday, but younger than tomorrow! Happy birthday!

May this year be special in every way as you are! Happy birthday dear!

So many candles for a cake? Let’s face it, you’re getting older.Happy birthday gorgeous!

Importance of this card comes from the person holding it. Happy birthday, wish you the best!

May this year surprise you with full of joy and happiness! Happy birthday!

Best things are yet to come this year, celebrate being special on every day! Happy birthday!

Fly high to the happiness and watch your dreams come true. Happy birthday!

I’m celebrating this very special day with you deep down in my heart. Happy birthday dear!

My ray of sunshine, thank you for making my life so much brighter. Your laugh is music to my ears, and your smile – my light in a dark night. I love you, and I can’t wait to spend many more birthdays with you.

Life without your love would be meaningless. I am forever thankful for our incredible adventures. Happy birthday!

My handsome, happy birthday! Words could never fully describe what you mean to me. Thank you for stealing my heart, and for taking such good care of it. Have the best day today.

To my sweetheart, happy birthday. I hope you have a truly magical day!

My dearest brother, thank you for continually inspiring me. You always have my best interests at heart and it means the world! Happy birthday.

Happy birthday to my beautiful sister. Thank you for growing up alongside me.

To my brother – happy, happy birthday. Thank you for being you. I treasure our times together!

Happy birthday to my precious sister. Thank you for always being there for me – I adore you.

Find more quotes at Onsumo .

[genesisarclite]

The Mirror’s Soul: Languish

And here, at last, is chapter two, in which we flash back to Morgan’s death on Talos I from Alex’s perspective and have to watch it unfold. It’s short, but it almost destroyed me to write it out. Also, witness Alex use a term of endearment for his little brother, the one time he actually willingly uses the language of their father, and means it.

...I’m so sorry, folks.

Through blaring alarms and the creaking of the hull under incredible stress, somehow Alex was able to focus. “Morgan? Where are you now? Are you close?”

In the background came the hiss of the reactor’s enormous doors grinding open. “At the top of the reactor room,” he said, sounding a little strained. “If I use the gravhsaft, I can be down in–” Morgan broke off into an uncharacteristically sharp choice of words, followed by a long pause. “Forget that part, the gravshaft is down. That thing probably destroyed it. Air is thin down here. Must be venting. I can climb down.”

Alex, at the bridge’s self-destruct console, alone, gripped his transcribe tighter. “You’re so close, Morgan. Don’t take the risk if you think there’s even a chance you won’t be able to make it.” Already, he had agreed to forego the Nullwave in favor of destroying everything. Morgan couldn’t be swayed from that ultimatum, no matter how much they argued or how he begged. But what did it matter, as long as his brother lived?

The silence that followed was much longer than the last one, broken only by a single grunt after a time. “Climbing’s out of the question, even with GLOO. I’ll need to use the Artax.” Again, he swore, quieter this time, followed by a string of what Alex perceived to be insults their father had used in the past. “I’ll just need a minute.”

“Morgan–” Alex forced himself to stop talking, knowing it was pointless. His brother was exhausted, bruised and beaten from all the time trying to get the station’s reactor primed for detonation, bloodied and weighed down with weapons he never would have touched otherwise. Elazar had implemented mandatory weapons training for all employees, once per month, and now, for the first time, he could say he was glad of something she had done.

Thank you, Sarah. I wish I could thank you in person.

That training had kept his little brother alive.

But the Artax couldn’t keep him aloft the entire time down that shaft. He would need to jump first, then use the Artax at just the right time to slow his descent. Too soon, and he would run out of thrust. Too late, and...

Alex felt his stomach tie itself into a knot.

Morgan had to come home.

The research, the Neuromods, TranStar, their parents’ legacy, everything else could burn when the station’s miniature sun birthed from the reactor’s death. Nothing mattered except getting his little brother back. Nothing else mattered.

When this was over, they could work out what was left.

“Here goes.” Morgan grunted as he began his freefall toward the reactor floor. For a few long, excruciating seconds, Alex could hear the wind rushing past – use the Artax use the Artax please use the Artax – and then the propulsion system kicked in with a few short bursts, the sound of clanking metal, and– “I’m on the wraparound deck. I just need to–”

Something clanged in the background. “Morgan? What’s going on?”

“That thing is in here already. Must be why the air’s thin. Got a puncture somewhere.” Silence. Boots on metal. “Okay, I just need to climb over the railing and then I’ll be–”

Again came the clang, just before something so violently knocked the air out of the younger man that it ended in a shout of raw, visceral pain. Then came rushing wind, then a loud bang, followed by another sound that made his heart plummet through the floor into the shadows of the creature’s tendrils: a body landing hard, a pained groan, a cough...

“Morgan? Morgan, are you alright?”

Fabric rustled. Again, Morgan coughed, and it sounded... wet. “Oh,” he muttered.

Alex nearly crushed the transcribe, a thousand horrible things blasting through his mind. “What... what happened?”

Another cough. A pained inhale. Both wet. “It knocked me down pretty hard, but I’m close to the...” A sharp cry of pain cut him off. The sound of a body hitting metal once again came to him. “I’m... close to th... the...” A disgusted grunt, followed the sound of something damp spattering the metal.

Alex felt lightheaded. “Can... you make it, Morgan? How close are you?”

No response. The transcribe creaked.

“Mor... Morgan...?”

No response. Pained breathing. Damp breathing.

“Morgan... please...”

“At the top of the... the st... the st... the stairs...” Fabric and metal scraped across grating. Pained breathing, a grunt, the sound of him collapsing once more. “I can just re... if I can just reach...”

Alex clenched his eyes tight shut at the sound of his little brother forcibly descending the stairs, and bowed his head at the wet gurgle that rose from the man’s throat when next he tried to speak. Another. Another. A cough. Breathing, pained. Too much left to cross. Not enough time in the world.

“You can make it.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded pathetic. “Then you can... come home. It’ll... be just like...”

“...old... times?” The words were mangled, but recognizable.

“Yeah, didi. Just like old times. No... no parents, nothing that can... hurt us anymore. Just you, and me, and Mikhaila. She wants to see you, I know. You can start over. It’s all fresh, you know? It’s gonna be great.”

No response. Morgan just breathed, slow, shallow.

“Morgan? You’re almost there, right?”

Again, no response. Just breathing.

Alex opened his eyes to look up at the screens surrounding the bridge. It showed a clear image of the Mother Typhon, its living shadows embracing the station, forcing it to vent precious gases. So many sections had gone completely dark. Some had been torn off entirely. The rings were smashed, scattered, looping the station, but one day they would fall to the Moon, or they would fall into the Sun, or to Earth, he knew.

The view of the station blurred.

No matter what, when the keys activated, he would trigger the self-destruct. Morgan had made him promise. Seven minutes was just enough time to get to the shuttle for both of them.

“...Morgan?”

The transcribe gave him nothing but background noise.

The view of the station turned unrecognizable, the colors swirling in wild, blurred patterns, like a ruined watercolor. The transcribe creaked, louder now. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared blankly into space, wondering about the strange sensations wrapping his head in a vice he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t want to look. But he had to.

He walked in a trance down the steps, heart hammering in his chest. If the security station showed him even a glimmer of hope, that would be enough. He could deal with that. He could even deal with a ruined station, as long as Morgan was still alive, even if his life signs were so weak that he couldn’t move.

The crew roster came up. He scrolled through to the Power Plant and scanned for Morgan’s name in the list.

Morgan Yu. No life signs.

The world bled of color, all the shapes and lines blurring until they became a gray mass of chaos. Alex tried to focus, tried to remind himself to run – the shuttle with its pilot and two survivors waited for him – but could only remember that it had been meant for them and his little brother, his precious little brother he always wanted to protect and failed to, because he had told Elazar no when she asked for better weapons, because he had contingencies that failed, because he had argued when the first containment breach happened, because because because of him it was his fault Morgan was dead because of him it was his fault his fault his fault–

The transcribe crackled. “Alex? What’s going on? Nothing’s happened!”

Alex responded purely on instinct. “Mikhaila, ah... he’s... Morgan failed to start the... to start the countdown.”

Silence, then, “Did he... is he... gone?”

Alex felt his body shaking. “I’m his big brother. I always kept him safe. Even when he got big enough to protect himself, I always protected him. He went into the trials because he knew I would protect him. I didn’t protect him.” His voice cracked and, his composure disappearing, he nearly crushed the transcribe. “Yes, Mikhaila, he’s dead, and I killed him. I couldn’t save him, and I killed him. I killed my little brother!” The scream that tore itself from his throat belonged to an animal, so raw and primal that it scared even him, before the transcribe screen shattered into pieces on impact, its husk forgotten on the metal grating as his hands covered his face.

Morgan wouldn’t even get a proper burial, because no one could retrieve the body. He hadn’t said goodbye.

You need to go, said the sensible side of him. Get out of here and save mankind.

Stay with your brother, said another voice, one he didn’t like, but clung to, that spoke in a voice of pure silk to the deepest and darkest part of his heart. You killed them all. Now, you die.

Morgan deserved to live.

You can’t be allowed to live.

He could feel the blood on his hands, mingling with that of his brother’s.

You killed them all.

He felt lightheaded, sick, wanted to laugh and cry and rage and burn the heavens into dust.

How does it feel to murder?

Nothing mattered, because Morgan, who had been through so much and done so much, was dead, and he couldn’t change that, couldn’t save him, was no god among men, had no real power, just money and knowledge and a name the world whispered in awe, but he could build nothing, he could only destroy.

You are a murderer. You killed your brother. You killed so many.

How many dead under his watch? If he listed them all, he would be here long enough for the Mother Typhon to consume him, too. He would suffer a fitting end, sent to the slaughter at the mouth of the shadows that had ruled him for so long.

Get out of here and save mankind.

Why did he get to live when everyone else died?

Alex left the husk of the transcribe he had carried for so many years, the broken body of his brother, the demon eating the station, and all the things he had ever loved, behind.

Nine years. Eight months. Seventeen days.

If not for the hybrid, the project that was the last remnant of his precious brother, whose memory was an ache in his soul and the creature’s face a monument to all those who had been murdered by his callousness, perhaps Alex would have ended his own life long ago in a selfish need to see the world burn.

[rina-rambles]

The Peepal Tree: Behind The Scenes & Curtain Calls

Hard as it is to believe, it is almost time for Rina Didi’s (hopefully temporary) curtain call. While I hope the literary group remember the German I taught them, this article is about my real legacy after the few months at Happy Days: the English play with Class 5A.

Admittedly Nani did a lot of the initial legwork, adapting the script from a Ruskin Bond story to make it suitable for a school play and proving once again why everyone adores Umi Ma’am. But from the moment I sat down to type up the script, I felt attached to the story and what it would grow to become. This doesn’t mean that the production is huge, quite the opposite in fact: With a cast of only 15 or 16 kids and three short scenes, the play is relatively small-time. Add to that the fact that it’s a fifth grader’s performance and my pride in the project may seem over the top. My own fifth-grade play is a hazy memory now, as this production will be for these kids ten years from now, if at all.

As a quote from my favourite TV show Glee nicely puts it: “Life only really has one beginning and one end…the rest is just a whole lot of middle.” This play is hardly comparable to a lifetime but the sentiment is fitting. That scene was leading up to a show choir competition for a group of misfit kids in high school and their teacher, whose quote that is, had some noteworthy advice: It doesn’t matter whether you win or lose when the journey has been so much fun. 

Not that any sane parent dislikes a performance from their child, but the point is that audience reception of this play doesn’t matter to me. I will remember every minute of our rehearsals fondly and if there’s one thing making me sad at this point, it’s the fact that I will miss the final performance of the play in December. But my “whole lot of middle” about this journey has been every day with these kids and getting to watch them grow into their roles with infectious enthusiasm and joy. The story is simple but it is the progress made in just over a month of rehearsals that have made it memorable, at least for me.

The Story

The Peepal Tree is narrated by a young man named Bobby, telling the story of a disruptive arrival to his family home when he was eight years old. Living with his Dada and Dadi, life was peaceful until the local P.W.D department decided an ancient peepal tree in the family’s garden was obstructing the road and would need to be cut down. Led by a pompous chief engineer, the surveyors descend upon the family garden to measure out the space required for the wider road. A team of obedient woodcutters soon follow suit, paying no attention to how much their presence and ruthless destruction of the tree anger the master of the house, Bobby’s Dada. The old man tries in vain to remind the business-like chief engineer of the government’s message to replenish nature rather than cut down such valuable greenery. Neither his anger nor Bobby’s Dadi’s broken-hearted cries at the loss of her beloved tree have any effect on the workers and the chopping commences.

As the first scene draws to a close, the narrator chimes in with the foreshadowing insight that Prets, meaning ghosts, often live in peepal trees. No one in the house would be able to see this spirit, but with the tree gone, the mischievous creature had nowhere to go but their once peaceful family home. The play’s second scene takes place in the house and opens with a clear indication of the havoc caused by the Pret. Bobby’s Dadi has apparently misplaced her glasses and in her frantic hunt lays the blame on Bobby, innocently doing his homework nearby. As the eight-year-old points out he had nothing to do with the disappearance of her spectacles, the old woman asks him to locate her missing keys. This is the cue for the ghost to have some fun and the keys soar across the room, out of the little boy’s reach and leaving him confused and out of breath. That was the moment the grandmother realized that the strange chaos must be caused by the Pret from their old peepal tree, a moment of recognition met by delighted applause from the naughty spirit.

After this introduction to the ghostly chaos, the narrator announces the arrival of a new victim for the Pret, the misfortunate Raju Uncle. Exhausted by his long journey, the man tries to sleep but the Pret cheekily pulls the sheets off him and throws them to the ground repeatedly. The result is a restless night and when the scene shifts to a family breakfast the next morning, Raju is in a very sleep-deprived and grumpy mood as he informs the family of the mysterious flying sheets. For this prank too, young Bobby gets suspected and blamed by his uncle, though the little boy has moved out of that room while Raju is staying. It is then that the Dadi tells him of the strange disappearances of her glasses, the flying keys and general havoc in their organized home since the peepal tree was chopped down…the Pret is to blame for Raju’s rough night as well.

The narrator indicates the passage of time at this point, with the mischievous Pret continuing to create chaos and messes in the house, to Dadi’s dismay. Then another new arrival is introduced, loaded with heavy baggage to exhaust her plump physique, the dramatic Kamini Aunty enters. The Pret takes an instant liking to her, showering her with rose petals stolen from Dada’s garden as a welcoming gesture. Although angered by the destruction of his flower garden, the old man recognises this action as a sign that the Pret approves of Kamini and says so. Kamini then makes the fatal mistake of saying she doesn’t believe in ghosts and such things, leading the spirit to throw fruit at her head in revenge. In those few poorly chosen words, Kamini Aunty managed to get on the naughty Pret’s bad side and this would be soon proven in the ghost’s ultimate prank. In switching out Kamini’s tube of toothpaste with some of Dada’s shaving cream, the Pret had her frothing at the mouth and led to Raju Uncle dramatically declaring; “Keep away from her, she has rabies!”

The final scene arrives with a brainwave from Raju to rid the family of the Pret’s annoying presence. He heads off to the bazaar and returns shortly with a Sadhu known for ridding houses of evil spirits, despite young Bobby’s insistence that the Pret is just mischievous, not evil. The Sadhu moves around the house, chanting mantras and lighting incense sticks to ward off the lingering spirit haunting the family. When he is finished, he gleefully demands payment for his services from Raju Uncle, only to have the Pret pelt him with garbage and chase him away for good. The narrator then eases along the passage of time once more, with the family adjusting to their friendly Pret’s habitual tricks and pranks since there seems to be no getting rid of the ghost. One day, the Dadaji beckons his wife and grandson to the garden eagerly, claiming he has a surprise for them. It turns out to be the sapling of a peepal tree, to take the place of the one so viciously cut down by the P.W.D department. Little Bobby is disappointed to learn how long the tree will take to become as large and majestic as the first one, but vows to take care of the little sapling for as long as he lives. The Pret is overjoyed to have a home again and applauds the planting of the little sapling, giving weight to the environmental message of the play: For every tree we cut down, one should be planted in order for the circle of life to continue.

No matter what happens when this play is ultimately performed, I know how far these kids have come. In early October, rehearsals began sitting crowded around the table in the staff room, just reading through the script to try and find the right person for each part. There were perfect fits, like the narrator Aman and Sumit as our Raju Uncle. Other key parts, like our Dadaji, were re-cast multiple times until Tushant finally claimed the role. The play is built upon a message of environmental preservation importance, so the old man’s final monologue is vital. With Umi Ma’am as his daily coach since he got the part quite far into the process, I have full faith in him. There are only two girls in this little play, as Dadiji and the dramatic Kamini Aunty. The grandmother needed to be emotional at the loss of her precious peepal tree and Aunt Kamini has the play’s biggest prank played on her and had to act accordingly. Again quite far into rehearsals, considering the school break for Diwali, we swapped the two girls’ roles. Originally the Dadi, Manya is much better suited to the exaggerated drama of a plump aunty who has her toothpaste swapped for shaving cream by the Pret. And Pankhuri has adorably awkward chemistry with Tushant, as it always looks like he’s touching her head in blessing when he guides her away from the garden wing of the stage as the tree is being cut down.

Other fond memories include the adorable drawings from various boys in the early days, which I will definitely proudly frame for my bedroom in Switzerland. It was also touching to see the family unity across two areas of the school I was involved in when Prashika from my literary hobby group came to beg us to give her brother (an originally mute surveyor of the tree cutting) a line in the play to increase his self-confidence. That impressed me and was symbolic of everything I have grown to love about Happy Days in the past few months. We’ve had ups and downs through this process, of course, distractions in every form from stray monkeys to the construction of stage lighting when the school recently had its 25-year reunion function. But as the final week of rehearsals rolls on before I hope to prove to my parents that these months have been well worth it, I am really proud of these kids.

It was difficult to get fifth graders to understand the assignment when I asked them to write down their fondest memories of this whole process…or maybe I’m just more sentimental and nostalgic. I also tried to get them to imagine alternate endings to the play. The only option to come out of that exercise was the new peepal tree hypothetically being cut down again one day, causing the Pret to move in with the family once more. Some of the kids did confess their highlights of the storyline though: For Manya, it was seeing the ghost pull off Raju’s bedclothes repeatedly and for Sumit, Raju himself, it was the line “Keep away from her, she has rabies!” For me, the funniest will always be Sumit’s confession that he didn’t have the 30 rupees his character was required to pay the spirit-banishing Sadhu…I told him to pretend but the dismay was precious. Now the poor Sadhu gets a handkerchief pressed into his hand as payment, as Sumit cheekily told me only this week…you have to love this boy. Whatever the case, I know that I will treasure the dramatic increase in excitement and enthusiasm whenever I would pull out my camera. My phone has been a life-line on this trip for a reason; I will look back at those videos and photographs very soon with as much pride as the kids showed every time they fought to be the centre of attention. I’ll be waiting eagerly for the day I can come back to Happy Days no matter what, but I hope that in the ultimate dress rehearsal next week my kids give me a good reason to. All that’s left to say is that I love them and every memory they have given me in the past few months. Good luck in December and I demand videos of the big day; Rina Didi will miss you all!

Speaking of missing people, it’s not only the school I have to temporarily say goodbye to but also my family. Since this may be my final article until I come back in hopefully a few months, there are some things that need saying. I have been coming to Shivpuri every year for my whole life and it has always been home, but in the past three months is the first time it has really felt like it, if that makes sense. It was a safe place to venture into teaching, with my family to fall back on and I am so grateful for that. Thank you, Nani, especially, for being there at every play rehearsal, even when the kids didn’t quite live up to your expectations. Thank you Geeta Mami, for being such an awesome boss and letting me start out with sessions in your office. Thank you Aditi, for putting up with me as a roomie and Arjun for letting me take over your desk for hours every day, I hope I’ve made my mark. And Sam, for encouraging every article and indulging my inner fangirl at the same time…you love my words but none can actually describe what a confidence booster all your help was, I love you and see you soon!

[fortheloveofcringe]

COMPILATION OF KASAMDAN

// H

 PREFACE BY THE EDITOR IN CHIEF

The prime purpose of this folio is not to prompt you to sulk and cry all day long, its purpose is to introduce you to the process of healing, and in the process of healing, we need to be aware of our “wounds”, our “KASAMDAN”.

Kasamdan, is a waray word for a collective number of wounds. And we believe we all have this in common.

The inspiration of this work of art roots from the famous line of John Green’s novel about the beautiful art of losing saying, “Pain demands to be felt”.

In the progression of life, we will inevitably stumble upon rocks that would leave us with permanent marks, maybe not in our skin, but in our minds. I’m not saying to keep grudges by reading this folio, grudges are poison by the way. What we want from you, dear reader, is to remember the warning of the difficult times that you may be able to prepare for battles. I want you to stand up and never be afraid of getting wounded, because most wounds, are worth it. I want you to question things and never be complaisant. Be observant. Remember the kind of people who have tried to bring you down, so you may be able to have the courage to stay away from them, because, common sense speaks; they don’t deserve your precious energy and time. Don’t let them steal it.

Remember that this world is never easy; no one promised easy to us. Learn from these wounds, feel the pain while it lasts because this is the only way for us to see ourselves, truly experiencing this version of reality. Always ask HIM to give the proper judgement.

Be human enough that you may be able to feel for others. Empathize but respect yourself enough to feel this work of art. Maybe, in a certain extent, I want to remind you that your pain in life is not unique, so get up, YOU ARE NOT ALONE WITH YOUR BATTLES. Relate and be ready for your healing, your “PAGHILOM”.

(P.S. Secret lang ha, PAGHILOM is the title of the sequel Folio for Kasamdan. HAHA)

-H, a wounded survivor.

  1.Punggod

Ako hi Punggod.

Ako hi punggod nga iyo gintamay-tamay.

Ako hi punggod nga diri niyo kilala.

Ako hi punggod nga pirmi niyo gin-mumulay.

 Ako hi punggod nga nag tinuok kada gab-i

Ako punggod nga nag-make-up basi bisan guti la maasi

Ako hi punggod nga nawad-an hin gana ha buhay

Kay ini nga kalibutan, para daw la kuno hit maghusay.

 Ako hi punggod nga waray gin buhat kun-di magtrinabaho

Ako hi punggod nga sigi la, bisan iyo la gin loloko.

Ako hi punggod nga nagpakadiboto ha “Artistry”

Kay amo nala it nahatag ha akon hin kakusog, bisan duro na kakuri

 Ako hi punggod nga waray katurog para mag review

Ako hi punggod nga sige’t surat bisan tak kamot mayda na kalyo

Ako hi punggod nga adi la gehap, na bubuhi pa

Kay ako hi punggod, didi ha tuna, mawawara man, pero ma-ato pa.

 2.Mga Sugat (ESSAY)

Mahirap mag-move on. Sa iba, feeling nila, pag nasabi nila sa’yo na “Hoy, magmove-on ka na nga!” eh biglaan nalang mawawala sa isip mo yung mga gabing umiyak ka, yung mga araw na tulala ka, at yung mga panahong nasaktan ka, dahil nag-hope ka na kahit minsan sa buhay mo, mararamdaman mo na man lang yung tunay na pag-ibig.

Nasaktan ako. Marami nang nakasakit sakin. Maraming nang pangyayari ang nakasugat sa isip at puso ko. Mawalan ng ilang kapatid, tatay, mawalan ng trabaho, mawalan pag-asa sa taong mahal, mawalan ng gana sa buhay. Bawat patak ng luha sa mga mata ko ay syang hudyat ng aking nalalapit na pagsuko. Pero pinilit ko parin mabuhay kahit alam kong naglalakad ang aking sugatang kaluluwa sa harap ng iba dala ang ngiting hindi nila alam na may isinisigaw na paghingi ng saklolo.

Dumating rin sa puntong kahit nagbabasa lang ako ay mayroon nang anxiety, dahil kahit napakaliit lamang na bagay ay iniiyakan ko na. Kahit anong nababasa ko, naririnig ko, o nakikita ko ay sadyang kumukurot sa isip at puso ko kapag naaalala ko ang mga taong at pangyayaring nagbigay sa akin ng mga sugat na ito. Hindi ko alam na magiging mahapdi pala ang sugat sa ating kaluluwa.

Masakit kasi isipin na may mga bagay talaga na kahit anong dasal at kahit anong puyat, pagod at effort, eh, di talaga mapapasa’tin. Yun kasi ang buhay. At kailangan nating itatak sa isip natin, na walang nag-promise sa atin, unang-una sa lahat, na magiging madali lang mabuhay, kaya let go of the expectations kung ayaw mong ma disappoint.

Sinabi ko na lamang sa sarili ko na huwag nang mag-isip masyado. Na hayaan ko na lamang na ang mga bagay-bagay ay mangyari. Total alam ko namang hindi ko makokontrol ang kahit ano dito sa mundo, bukod sa isip ko. Nagdasal na lamang ako ng taimtim sa Maykapal at sa ngayon, iba na ang dasal ko. Hindi na ako humingi ng kahit ano paman lalo na ang lovelife, hiningi ko nalang na sana’y bigyan niya pa ako ng lakas at panahon, para maghilom ang mga sugat at ako’y makalaban muli sa buhay.

Hindi man perpekto o plantsado, kahit araw araw ay mayroon paring pagsubok, natutunan ko na ngayong huminga ng maluwag. Nalaman ko na sa bawat sugat na nasa isip, puso at balat ko, na ako’y malakas pala, mas malakas pa sa aking inaakala. Nalaman ko na dapat pinipili ko ang aking mga laban at ako’y nararapat lang na magbigay ng atensyon sa mga bagay na makakapagpabuti sa aking buhay at pagkatao. Nalaman ko na ang pag-ibig ay dadating nalang nang kusa dahil lahat ng bagay na pinipilit ay nakakasakit lamang.

Magdasal ka sa Diyos na bigyan ka ng strength. Yun lang. Wag mo husgahan ang sarili mo. Hayaan mo ang mundo, at gumalaw ka ng naayon sa kagustuhan mo, dala ang kabutihan at pagkakuntento. Wag mong isipin na porket nasugatan ka ay hindi ka na makakalaban pang muli. Hayaan mong maramdaman mo ang sakit at hapdi, dahil ito ang magtuturo sa’yo ng mga mahahalagang bagay na dadalhin mo hanggang sa inyong pagtanda.

  3. Songs About You

Dear Love, I’ve made a serene playlist

Made up of nostalgic tunes from the day we first kiss

The love we shared and the love we held so dear

Listen to these my love, now that the blue sky is clear

 I stopped crying three moons and three suns ago

Because you’ve made me smile even if you’ve left me with sorrow

I remember the laughter, the coffee, and the anime’ talk

I remember the happy silence when went out for a walk

 Dear Love, how’s your job? Are you okay and happy?

I wanted to make you sandwiches, and lemonade with honey

But now, the bed’s cold, I’m alone and you’re gone

I stare at the door, waiting for you to prove me wrong.

 That love is temporary, and all things die dry

Even if the earth will be filled with stories, still the heavens cry

Try to remember how it feels to love so deep

I cry with this playlist at night, hoping to get some sleep

  4. In the Place of You and Me

Pain like we painted pain

Wounded like we wanted wounds

Skies like the swollen eyes

Tears like we never knew what we fear

 In the place of you and me

The stars scream of sad lies

Whispers to myself

Letters to your playful heart

 Choices we make,

choices we break

Love in the faced the fake

Till the heart burnt at stake

 Running and running

While truth starts hovering

Make me feel better

By making me feel worst

   5. To Him

Broke some hearts, but you made up mine;

Eat your damn pride, my love and sunshine;

Needed you then, my summer valentine.

 Cheat on hearts, and you’ll probably die;

Enjoy the breeze, my curly haired moon and sky;

Live my love, please live, live like you’ll never ever cry.

 Remember your siblings, make an adoring family;

Even if you forget me, Always, here I’ll be;

You thought of me as nothing, but you’re still everything to me.

6. Fill in the Blanks

Crossword minds, talks of scrabble

Fainting broken heart, a running mouth that babbles

First date, first try, please never say a dry goodbye

So I got a picture of both of us, in a rainy dim sky

 I gave you a letter and now I want to know what you think

Did I displease or please you? I think my soul is going to sink

You spoke to me of sentences like fill in the blanks

But here, right now, all I can say is my heartfelt trembling “thanks”

 Thanks for the summer sun, the summer rain, and the summer fun

Thanks that you cured a lonely heart, that thought happy was gone

Thank you for the ICE CREAM, the little giggle from your wise mouth

It may be so soon, but you’ve change me and I’m done with feeling doubt

 And so here we are now, back to life and back to reality

You’re working till 5, and my articles aren’t yet ready

I get reminded of the simple joy, of the love I cannot have

Looked through the glass window, somehow I don’t feel sad.

 7. PAASA

Alam kong mali and sobrang pagmamahal

Tiwala’y wala, pakiramdam ba’y parang nasasakdal

Pinilit kong mabuhay, Sa pag-iisa nakikita ang kulay

Ngunit nakita kita, At ang ngiti ng yong mga mata ay buhay

 Sinabi ko gabi-gabi, sana’y di ako umibig

Pagkat alam ko’y luha lang ang mananaig

Pero bakit sa tuwing umaga, Karlo ang bukambibig

Parang wala sa katinuan, ikaw na ang aking daigdig.

 Ginawa ko ang lahat, mapalapit lang sayo

Pati mga kaibigan ko’y nawalan na sakin ng respeto

O ang pag-ibig ba’y sadyang ganito

Nakakalimutan ang lahat, pati ang sarili ko

 Ngunit isang gabi tinapat na kita,

Ano na ba ito?, may patutunguhan pa ba?

Akala ko kasi, sabi mo’y kamahal-mahal ako

Yun pala’y may laman na, ang puso mong bato

 Hinayaan mo akong umiyak,

ngumiti ka na para kang pumatay at nakasaksak

Itim na mga bulaklak,

pagmamahal ay nawalan ng halimuyak

 Alam kong mali and sobrang pagmamahal

Tiwala’y mas wala, pakiramdam ba’y parang nasasakdal

Sinugat mo Karlo, ang puso at isip ko

At kailanma’y di ko na gustong, umasa ng ganito.

 8. Sweet Cruelty

 Once a joyous heart running through the wild

Loving every breeze of the wind, seawater’s mild

Wake up in the middle of suns and moons

Life is her piece of diamond teeth, stark and sleepy noons

 Let go of the childish things for one day it’s the end

She burned all the dolls and turned pink to black she bend

Enter thousands of doors, signed papers and she scores

But later before she sleeps her tears never gets her bored

 Would this be reality? To let go of my inner self

To hide it and suffer for this world to be sane

Can’t let go of the past but future I need to be

Why did I end up facing this sweet cruelty?

  9. Is This the Price?

Is this the price of being on Top? Hurtful words from mean people?

Is this the price of being too good? Abused and underestimated like I’m simple?

Is this the price of having an unconditional heart? Broken always?

Is this the price of the life that I wanted to restart? Hard and insane days?

 They said to be everything, nothing you should become,

I wanted to please all, and my bosses had me done

I’m still in the office, late and it’s past eight

They say I’m an asset, but is this the price of my fate?

To have no life at all and these papers are my rates?

 I messed up once and I said I wanted to sort out my life

I wake up to prepare for them and carry their strife

Every day I let people use me, even if my muscles are tired

I said my love for them, would cover it all

But is this the price to be good and feel short of respect at all?

 Graces had been said and love has been given

All I wanted was to do good and always be even

But I’m afraid one day;

these hardships will take my sweetness away

Is this the price of life? Should I waste it away?

 10. FEARLESSLY

I have decided that I need to be aware of the fact that every day, I’m dying, little by little, and so along with that decision, was the idea to tell myself every moment, with a brave little whisper, to LIVE FEARLESSLY.

I may not be the very best version of myself right now; I can still change, for better or for worse.

I realized that I could not let any second pass by, spending it with listening to people, who doesn’t help me grow into the light of myself. That I can’t allow the creation of disruption to myself caused by words and people carelessly pulling me down to the black hole of messy misery.

Seems cold, but this is self care.  The spiritual journey of a human is never always about being nice, it’s about being truthful and honest, that way you can really conserve your energy and consume it to the experiences worth of your hours as a living human being.

 11. Free from your Ghost

Unless I remove your number, I’m never free from your ghost

Unless I delete all the pictures, I’m never free from your ghost

Unless I unfriend you, I’m never free from your ghost

Unless I stop thinkin’ bout you, I’m never free from your ghost

 Days and nights spent crying I could fill up a water balloon

Your face unwelcomed, knocking on my mind like the sun and moon

I sleep in silence and remember your smile

I just want to punch myself, this has been a trouble for a while

 if I change my mind, I could be free from your ghost

Uif I accept the facts, I could be free from your ghost

Maybe the memories wouldn’t haunt me around anymore

If I just make up my mind, move on, cuz I can’t take this, no more

  12. Scratching Scabs

I run fast, summer wind, sunset child heart

Smiles all year, no sorry tears, loving apple pie tarts

I see, I feel, I dream, I draw all my happy screams

Afternoon sleeping, but I feel like a rainbow sunshine beam

 Then soon a teen, think fast, solve, and ace the tests

But little heart in my ribs whispers of television kisses when I rest

Looking for the dream one by spring, red balloons glittering had flown

Still driving for these love letters like the road is already known

 Got back home one day, seems like winter, letters replied by no’s

I said, “Why and how, when I feel like I did my all”, but it’s a no.

Threw a plate in a wall, pieces flew, cut me open and I bleed a sorry song

“Where’s the child that ran so fast, with the summer wind that’s strong”

 I dried tears every night by sleep; an adult waking up in a cold room

See pictures of your face, and the flowers dried up that used to bloom

Its gray and its fall, wondering why my heart, now, feels so small?

It feels like a scab, soon scratched, will bleed, but feels nothing at all.

 13. Para kay, Papa(TAY)

 Nawala ka noong ako’y bata pa.

Hindi ko alam ang tunay na luha,

Pero ngayon ay nadarama ko na.

Sana lumaki ako ng kasama kita.

 Mga araw na walang magtatanggol

Sa mga lait nilang aking iniiyak na lamang na para akong sanggol.

Mga meeting na walang umaattend dahil naghahanap buhay si mama,

At ikaw, ay wala nang talaga.

 Minsa’y naiingit, “buti pa sila, may ama” ang laging sambit

Dumaan sa mga pagsubok, sa sarili’y nagagalit

Kailangan ko maging matapang, dala ang iyong pangalan

Dahil baling araw, ika’y aking mapaparangalan.

 Mga kaibigan kong katulad ko na wala naring ama,

Sana’y malaman niyo na balang araw sila’y ating makikita.

Nawala man sila noong tayo’y bata pa,

Ngunit, kasama natin sa paglaki natin ang ating mga ama, kahit nawala man sila.

 14. HALLUCINATIONS OF PEACE

It’s just Wednesday and I’m already in a spin

My hearts on fire and my mind seems dim

Dreaming of lighthouse views, I want a genuine grin

But life’s real hard, and June skies scream grim

 I want to succeed, I want to grow and soar

But this test paper is such a lying gore

All my life, news of hate make me bored

Still people throw bullets and then do deceit roars

 Why does peace feel like a weird hallucination?

Will it ever be mine and in my intuition?

Keep them off my mind for my salvation

I want to live fully, without any hesitation.

 15. BURNED THE RICE

I was supossed to make you feel something I poured out the unclean waters I was supposed to see everything But the little rocks hid deep in the waters I was supposed to put out the flame Then I saw myself lighting up another match Dinner dish cooked in vain of my name Together with the rice and the fresh fish catch Boiling bubbles, sharp words of deceit I prepare the plates and I see you sit Salad of lies, tossed as you eat The rice has burned and dropped knives to my feet What kind of love it is? If man punches his rose I said to the blood, this is the last dinner I’ll host Suffocation, hatred and bruises led me here Now choke and die, poisoned food for my husband dear.

 16. ONE-SIDED LOVE

 I have been nothing but good to you I have been dancing in flames just to please you Where will this lead if you let my heart bleed And you sing songs of me being bad for you I wake up each day to make you fully love me babe I think of you more than the times I eat in a day I think of you more than the times I’ve said I’m okay. I can have it all, yet I can never have you at all.

 17. HAIKU’S

 FACEBOOK FRIENDNIVERSARY

 Napaka Saklap

Hanggang Friendniversary

Lang pala tayo

 INTERNAL HOMOPHOBIA

 Sino ka ba J?

Mang-api pa ba ng gays

Gay ka rin naman.

 BUTAS BULSA

 Bakit ang sakit

Kapag wala nang pera

Kaysa sa lovelife

 CYCLOPS THE CHIKADORA

 Magtrabaho ka

Puro ka chismis, miss A

M.Y.O.B. Please.

 18. I AM THE KATZENJAMMER

The red and blue sirens scream my silent guilt I hide in the shadows of glass shattered gasps The walls of pain, saying sorry that I built The strangest synonyms of my broken past I cry for the moon and stare at the fiery sun Cracked lines of my dry observations rally and run In my head, in my soul, the rusty dagger goes deep Silence these thoughts so I can get some sleep I kissed the flame of troubles and bad fear For death feels like the only dream thats near Dark blue oceans of flying numbers and words When will I leave this gray cynical world? Now every step I make brings sore, ugly hell To the doors of the lives I can lavishly retell Jagged pieces of memory in the cold lonely rain I wish I wasn’t like this, I hope I’m not insane.

 19. CURSED MY CROWN

And so you see me crying and you win

You brought me to my knees and I gave in

Words like knives, you carelessly cast me down

Is this the curse of wearing this damned crown?

 All the while I was doing nothing but good

People should mind their own business as they always should

But your mouth and mind just can’t be shut

You keep harrassing me, and keep filling me with doubt

 I want to do good, but why are you this mean?

Did you have a rough childhood, and to me you’re lashing it in?

I want peace and wars I shall end

For I am queen and king even if you want me dead and bent

 Throw your cannonballs to a mighty shining sun

For light you can’t stand, you evil, drastic, mediocre clown

What I built with love and beauty, you have to ruin with your mouth

We’ll both see one day, who goes down south

 It always begins with an unholy tongue

The curse you brought to my crown is what I frown upon

Devilish motives of your heart I forgive

But under the eyes of God, what you deserve you shall recEIve.

  20. DECEITFUL LOVER

 Bark to the void, you’re a clean heart you say But all that is done are for traps that you lay You believe in human nature, but inside you disagree As you can never give love, to one that’s not pretty Spread the word of Love, for a lover you want to claim But deep in the shadows, your judgments will stay same The paradox is so; you seem to be good, But where does your heart lie, for a creature like me whose made of wood? Count our stars now, and speak that you detest me For you always have and you always will be the silent insanity The farce and the game you play will be done For providence will gobble you up, when the point has come.

 21. MGA “WAG” Pag may crush

 a.  Wag kang masyadong pabibo. May mga taong madaling ma-intimidate beh. Baka isa dun si cras.

b.  Wag mo idaan sa sulat ang feelings mo. Kung feeling mong romantic yon, pwes di na gumagana sa mga taong ungrateful yan.

c.  Wag kang cliché. Gulatin mo siya. Sabihin mong gago siya. Hindi yung mga cute or gwapo lines. Inaamag na mga linyahang ganyan.

d.  Wag kang pabebe. Tang na loob. Di bagay sa’yo

e.  Wag kang magkuwento ng kahinaan.

f.  Wag kang umasa. Tas maninisi ka na pinaasa ka kahit wala naman. Lul!

g.  Wag kang plastic. Sabihin mo kung nahurt ka sa mga salita o kilos niya. Hindi yung, okay lang ng okay kasi crush mo.

h.  Wag kang touchy. Creepy yon baliw.

i.  Wag kang uminom nang dahil lang sa lalake tas pumasok ng hangover at magpakachaka sa school. Di magandang picture yon frend.

j.  Wag kang mangulit. Yaan mo siya. Kung para siya sayo, you don’t have to try hard.

k.  Wag kang mag-imagine ng kung ano ano. Chill lang please. Hirap sa’tin mahilig pangunahan lahat eh. Tas iiyak. Logic plz.

l.  Wag na wag kang gumawa ng playlist for him. Maalala mo siya mas lalo sa mga songs. Sige ka sayang yung mga fave songs mo mababahiran ng sakit, sugat at hinagpis.

m.  Wag mo siya i-drawing kung artistic ka. Di rin yan na-aapreciate (kahit sabihin nila na naapreciate daw, lul!) Pinagod mo lang sarili mo.

n.  Wag kang mag-aya lumabas pag umuulan. Connect the dots please.

o.  Wag mo siyang masyadong tingnan. Magpokus ka nyeta ka. Sayang ang uno sa klase. Marami na kaming tanga wag ka na dumagdag please.

p.  Wag mo alamin lahat ng bagay tungkol sa crush mo. Hindi magiging kayo kung alam mong nagbakasyon sila sa Singapore noong 17 siya at tinuli siya nung summer of 2008. Wag ganon. Ibang kabaliwan na yan.

q.  Wag kang bobo sa pag-ibig. Wag magpaka Top-Notcher sa pagpapakatanga, walang lisensya yan.

r.  Wag magkunwari. Mas nagugustuhan tayo, kung tayo’y nagpapakatotoo. Bow!

 22.LONELY BED

I guess I’ll be spending the rest of my nights in this lonely bed. Nothing but the sound of the rain on this lonely bed. Wishes of mornings with you by my side in this lonely bed. Wish I could stop the tears right now cause my eyes are red. See you smiling like the sun in the gates of summer See you crossing your eyebrows like this world is sweet and sour See you staring at the window watching lonely towers Days gone by and my heart is eaten by the passing hours Where will you go? I wanna know, cuz all of the things just seem so miserable, Where will we be? Do I wanna be? But my mind and heart is not free and baby youre not, ever ever ever for me. Guess I’ll spending all my nights on a sorry sing along With a guitar on my head just to make a emotionally coherent song Wished of mornings by your side in this lonely head Guess I’ll be spending all my nights on this lonely bed.

 23. BEAUTIFUL HELL (SHORT STORY)

He woke up on a dim sobbing sky in June and he decided to turn his computer on. He was watching "The Ice Cream Show" then he stares at the foggy window. He fixes himself some food as he sees a mirror of himself through the H-guy, tue protaginist, from the images of a manga on play. He smiles. Days pass and the wheels of vans and jeeps to school from home just seemed so rudimentary. Teachers and papers didn’t seem much exciting. He just wanted to shake up his gray, cold earth that mimicks the life of his "role model". Then he saw "Her". He wasn't sure about what he was about to do. He just kept insisting on his mind that his Ice Cream Show fantasy was about to breath and speaks in flesh. The gamer boy falls in love. He sees Eru through her. The way she smiles. The way she is. The way he felt for her was another dimension. And in a cold summer rain of sobbing skies, he saw sunlight. He approached her. "Hi" he says. And soon enough he has found himself thinking that she needs to be part of him. They needed to be together. Or so he thinks. The streets of Tacloban was filled with walking empty faces. He knew that every after game, he just wanted to be beside his Eru girl That the roads crossed were nothing as long as he gets her presence, he just keeps on following her. The screams of doubt are however, running wild. Love is never ever enough, though. Eru girl had plans. He was too young for her. She was too dedicated with her life that she wanted to give back the love through friendship. He screams and they whisper, she talks and her friends screams. The world shifts and scenes happen. The mess of holding hands, walking together on the dim sky while the love was ready just never painted a good picture. Circles of "I promise" and "I need you" kept walking through lying mouths and filtered ears, up until it was dryly exhausting. So the road diverts and soon the story he ought to tell the world, patterned to Hyouka, just has never conceived anything like dreamt of. It was neither a nightmare nor a sweet dream, the nothingness was his hell, and they became everything to nothing. So he woke up on a dim sobbing sky in June, decided to turn the computer on and played. He played differently but through the same sad soul. He’s smart, he learned. But his knees were kissing. He graduated with hopes both dying and blooming. Days pass and he, now works. Wondering why he never got through and true... with his beautiful hell.

 24. Payaso

Isang masayahing katauhan Malayo sa impyerno at sakit ng buhay Pulang labi at ilong na kasing bilog ng buwan Hari ng mga nakakatawang salaysay Ngunit bawat makukulay na ngiti niya’y ikinubling luha Bawat araw na siya’y ngumingiti, kabiyak ay pagluksa Dahil ang kanyang pagkabuhay ay siya rin pagkamatay Ng batang minsang puno ng pagkadalisay Payaso ngayo’y ako, at yaong bata ay ako Iniwan ko ang aking sarili dahil sa malupit na mundo Lahat ng biro ko ay sigaw ng paghingi ng saklolo Dahil hindi na kaaya-aya ang buhay na ito.

25. tomorrow (japan)

I was scared to know, scared to fall When come around, I stand tall I wouldn’t flinch, I couldn’t inch Any move to break my wall I saw you love me, but I couldn’t love you Because I knew in the end, you’ll just leave me too And that day came that i feared My heart cut opened and I was seared The blood of your love, I cry in my heart You got tired of me, for she’s now your revered. A few years lost, My job ends at five I saw your face on the sunset dive It’s when I realized I lost it all The love you gave just couldn’t be revived Then a Facebook message, My heart beats fast It's you since forever, but this was your last You're leaving for Japan tomorrow morning With a wife and a kid, my heart at blast. Why did I ever let you go? I knew I should’ve said I love you so But now it’s all to late, I say "have a safe trip" Forever is real, for forever my heart is ripped.

 26. SAMAD

Sana, maibalik ko pa an panahon Adto ka na ha iya, waray na ako higugmaon Kada gab-e, pagtinuok la tak buruhaton Kay gin sayang ko an panahon nga para unta ha aton Napabay-an ko na gud an akon kalugaringon Nawarayan hin gana han tanan na hirimu-on Tak kasing-kasing, samad ngan bagan na lubong Kay sala ko man, kun kay ano nawara, ikaw ha akon. Yana nakikit.an ta ikaw nga malipayon Ngan it mas masakit pa kay diri agi ha akon Sana maklimtan ta ikaw dayon Kay ini nga sakit, diri irilubon.

 27. Kill And Ruin Love, Odysseus

You killed me without saying any word. You turned me to a fireball, then into a rock, icy and cold. You’re company made me happy; I thought I lost blue, But it’s painful also, for all I’ve done, was nothing to you. I asked you to kill me, if this is going to be the end, Still you continue to break what’s left, the silence you send, Your Cheshire cat smile, you say you don’t mean to offend, But I know you know I’m broken, yet, you still ignore me and pretend. All I wanted was to always talk to you. I wanted to figure out; I wanted to know you from you. But you treat me like nothing, so nothing I become, If that brought you pleasure, I’d just get up in tears and run. I stop to persist, because I’m frozen in waters, Tomorrow I might drown; tomorrow I will still suffer, The perfect storm is alive; the winds in my wake are throwing me. Into the hallow shell, that you hoped I would be.

 28. Sunny Days

Mud Pies, climbing up Mango Trees, Run through the grass fields, breathe and see, Sunshine on my hair, Scratches on my knee, I feel so awake, and I feel more than free. Rainy days were good, I’m a pluviophile, I made Paper Mermaids and let them sink in a while, The Paper angels were acting up too, Burn the demons with match-sticks and glue. Night comes along and My Barbie’s hair is dry, I’m eating the corn from our cornfields ply, My Mama is writing lessons, my brother’s have slept away, I’m still awake, wondering, tomorrow’s another day. I panicked, awake and cold, it’s just another sweet memory, I’m here on this dark room, my shift starts by three, I’m away from my family, I have to get up and work, The actuality kicks in, I'm pierced by a giant pitchfork.

 29. Acid and Red

My Little Darling, It’s been a while since we talked, Leave me alone you said, Tonight, I cried and walked, My Little Darling Boy, I might say I’m not over you, Because now, you’re hands are cold, and I’m staring at you. After that night, after I fight, I knew, and knew what was coming through, After I died, after I tried, I knew, it’s new and to end you is what I want to do. See on that side, that’s your girl, lying cold on the floor, Now you’re really a twosome, but I don’t feel so sore, See on the right, that’s a drum of acid, and a heavy metal gore, I’ll fix it together with our memories on the score. I sweat of danger, and black and silent mind, My true self now, I can never ever find, You buried it before I had the chance, Now I rise from my death, now you’re at my last glance. I plant the knife on you’re sorry little heart, My Darling Little Boy, you shouldn’t have broken my heart, Now I love you even more, I wished we’ve had more conversations, But alas! This night, is my night of revelations. And now, it’s morning, in pieces you have melt, With your little whore, whose love you never felt, What have you DONE TO ME, is what I did to you Now I burn off everything, and go to hell with YOU.

 30. Dear Big Brother

I’m so sorry, I wasn’t near I was worried, covered in fear But now you’re gone, your sight can’t be found How I wish you’re still around I miss you Big Brother, I miss your cruel jokes The time we laughed so hard and spit out bubbles of coke But now, all I see is a glowing flatline The doctors did everything, they said it’s fine Why aren’t you breathing Your stomach’s not moving I wish your just sleeping Crying now, I miss you smiling I hope you’re okay “there” I still feel you in the house, everywhere Thank you for the memories, I’ll see you one day The tears have dried, but I’ll miss you everyday.

 31. Four Walls

All my breathing, I’ve never been so sure If I’ll make it out alive; even there’d be no cure Sad heart I see you crying, I’ll let you be For one day the game ends, there’s no need to see And he bask on the energy he threw me into What I see from my past, a hollow of two People and places never stay the same They take your heart now, but only pain I have claimed The sun arises; it burns all that’s left And the tragedy now, is to ask “what is left?” The rain will scream, the forests will cry For all they have known, is that someday I’ll die I like how I think though, it’s negative and raw They say it’s a bad thing, but what bad does good draw? I see no pleasure in being a conforming prick Wake up now, or you’ll be swallowed by bricks.

 32. July Goodbyes

I see your resist, getting gone from me It's like a gum, stuck beneath your tee But I’m just a shadow, they speak about my name I tell you this Mr. K, I can never be tamed. Your ghost haunted me for more than forty days Yet I'm the one who's dead, in tears I restlessly lay I hear your humming, I see you raising your eyebrows You talk to me when I'm sleep, I awake in silent growls You've never done anything, and that's the problem, I deduce that you loathe me, don’t know what you said to them, I never really cared; all I wanted was your presence, Be my calming words, when my storms are insistent. But you never gave me a chance, you don't like risks Maybe that's why; you're living with such lists I never understood, how a being can be scared When he only lives on a silent verve, he can never be spared. Now be a man, as you aver yourself to be You don't need flowers, or chocolates or tea Go perceive the unknown, move out of common mold For I guarantee you, you'll only get jaded when you're old.

 33. Wayward Thoughts

All I know is something's different again.  It’s just every time you wake up,  every single memory is all part of a very unforgivable and permanent yesterday. Everything you remember is now past.  I hate sudden changes.  Regardless of the fact on how I used to ask for it to occur.  Everything for only a while and the rest is unknown.  These moments I treasure like someone’s going to take it away from me.  It’s been really hard every night there’s no star in sight, I love stars.  They make me feel different and directed when I see them, all hanging in front of a vast universe ready to shower me hope in the darkness of this world.  It’s like my useless mannerism (talking to the stars) yet very relevant to my drowning system.  I have to keep these moments.  Just them; Sad and Perfect.  They both change me, suddenly.

  34. Shades of Clouds

Grey, on a rainy day, grave and treacherous Amid the drops, on foot towards the dangerous Only to feel and feed my sorrow Howling through the streets of red, green and yellow Bright, on a silly blue sky, as happy as a fruity tune Reminds me of Ferris Wheels and the sunshine of June Summer on my skin, Glasses shaped of hearts Sweet soul smiling, like the moment of a fresh start Dark at night, Blind as love It’s the fluffy noir bed, of the stars above Little dream catcher, bring me a play For tonight my reveries will take the pain away Lilac, Pink, and Tangerine creams Sun goes down, forever in my dreams The dusk owns my heart; it’s my love and my view Each end of the day, is a chance for something new Now I see clouds, like my short funny life  One day I’m crying, the next day I’m on hype Teach me how to fall, teach me how to feel Shades of clouds, they tell me what’s real.

 35. Water Colors

Purple Adoring you felt like a warm blanket during a thunderstorm, sanctuary made of stone. Black & White I always took photographs of you, for I feared that I might lose you, and I'll be all alone. Blue You made me feel bliss, but you also made me sad. Shadow cries of sorrow. Red I cherished you so hard, that I forgot to love myself, and sadness now I know. Orange The morning I let go of you, for I love you, and you need to be free from my ghoul. Yellow That you find the girl with the yellow umbrella, and she'll bring delight to your soul. That will everlastingly, bring me happiness too.

[gracethroughsorrow]

This whole morning my head has been in circles trying to figure out what on EARTH I am doing. It started out yesterday. Yesterday was amazing—Didi took me on a surprise date and brought me flowers and white wine. He told me to dress fancy, and when he came to pick me up, he was wearing a suit. He looked so handsome and precious and ~eek~. I felt so special. We went to a really nice restaurant and ate until we were about to burst. Then we ran over to Insomnia cookies and ate glorious cookie ice cream sandwiches. And it was perfect. He’s perfect. He’s everything. But this morning, as I was sitting at work, an article called “A Letter To My Christian Friend Engaged to A Non-Believer”. And it really broke and convicted my heart. Then, funny enough, Joanne messaged me about a photo of Didi and myself that I had posted on Snapchat and asked me “wait whaaaat?” AND ON TOP OF THAT Hung messaged me asking how things were and why I’ve been so distant, and everything inside me just broke. The truth is, I don’t know if what Didi and I are doing is glorifying the Lord. Okay that’s a lie- I do know the answer to that question. The answer is that it is not. And it is a disservice to both myself and to Didi. The issue isn’t dating so much as it is honoring God and following His commands, and having the FAITH that He sets those commands because He loves us. The faith that the ways He has set for us are holy and good and as things should be. What does it mean to be filled with the Spirit? It’s funny because I’ve been reading a lot about it in Romans 8. And part of being filled with the Spirit is following God’s commands and living in Jesus. I need prayer about it. Prayer prayer prayer. I am afraid of what I am whyen I am single and grieving—so where is the middle ground? Where do I tell Didi we can or can’t go in our friendship? I am so afraid of hurting him because I love him so much—so how much more afraid should I be of hurting Jesus if I love JESUS that much, right? RIGHT? But I’m in it for the long haul, and I have faith that God will bring us together. And so I am encouraging myself by saying that this time of friendship will build the foundation for a Christian relationship, and a Christian relationship will build the foundation for a Christian marriage. And I am so blessed that what God is doing is revealing to me HIS way—otherwise, I may be wandering forever, trying to reconcile the wrong way with the one that is right in my mind. I am so thankful for His grace. I love Didi but I need to love God more.

[spottypotatostuff]

Here’s What Happens to Tech in 2017 (Unless 2016 Was All a Dream)

WIRED

What does 2017 hold for the world of tech and media? With so much changing at the end of 2016, it’s hard to be sure. Very hard. But we have a few guesses.

Here you’ll find WIRED’s predictions for the coming year, and they come with one big wild card: Donald Trump. When the new administration takes office at the end of January, it will alter the course of so many things in this country of ours—not to mention the rest of the world—and alter them in ways we can’t necessarily predict. Tech is no exception.

A Thousand Tech IPOs Will Bloom

2016 was a dismal year for IPOs—the slowest IPO market we’ve had since the recession. But that’s likely to change in 2017.

Snap (formerly Snapchat) will be the first big name going public after the new year. The company has already filed paperwork for an IPO that could value it between $25 and $35 billion. That would be the third most valuable market tech company debut of all time, behind Facebook and Chinese e-commerce giant Alibaba. If it does reach those heights, others are likely to follow, including streaming music company Spotify, cloud storage vendor Dropbox, and meal-kit maker Blue Apron.

We might even see debuts from the ride-sharing company Uber and the super-secretive big data outfit Palantir. The environment must be right, but at the moment, things are looking good. Of the 20 tech and communications companies that went public in the second half of the year, each climbed more than 25 percent from their debuts.

What does a Trump presidency mean for IPOs? Trump has said he plans to lower the corporate tax rate from 35 percent to 15 percent—good news for companies that may have calculated their valuations on the higher rate. Either way, tech companies likely won’t view a Trump presidency as a deterrent. In fact, they may be spurred to go public sooner rather than later—before Trump rolls out policies they haven’t foreseen. —Davey Alba

The Internet of Things Will Die

Last September, some malware took control of millions of internet-connected devices, including security cameras and DVRs, and launched an attack that took down the website of security journalist Brian Krebs. It was one of the largest ever attacks of this type. The next month, the same piece of malware rendered large swaths of the internet inaccessible to many people.

The incidents capped off two years of bad news for the “Internet of Things,” including bricked devices, irritating outages, bankrupt startups, an international emissions testing scandal, and a viral story about a Brit who spent 11 hours trying make tea with a needlessly high-tech kettle. A Twitter account called Internet of Shit started documenting this market’s silliest gadgets, funniest error messages, and most depressing possibilities. It now has over 100,000 followers.

The Internet of Things was a made-up term to begin with. And now this bit of marketing nonsense carries a sheen of ineptitude, danger, and other shit. The upshot: the term will die in 2017, kinda like Big Data before it.

The Internet of Things—or whatever you want to call it—has the potential to save precious resources, spot and fight pollution, and help people lead healthier, safer lives. But adding internet remote control to every single product on the market won’t necessarily help us get there. What we need are thoughtful, affordable, durable devices that actually, y’know, make our lives better. A new name, and a renewed sense of purpose, could be just what the Internet of Things needs. —Klint Finley

Real Internet TV Will Wait in the Wings

What we all want is television that lets us watch any show at any time from any device, all at a reasonable price. But that’s not quite a reality. And in 2017, it will remain not quite a reality.

Yes, YouTube is putting together a live TV package set to launch in early in the year. Hulu is doing the same. Amazon is poised to enter the fray. And the services will join existing options like AT&T’s DirecTV Now, which offers 60 channels for $35 a month or up to 120 channels for $70, plus premium channels HBO and Cinemax for an extra $5 a month.

Sure, the FCC has proposed new rules that would require cable and satellite TV companies to distribute their content through free apps—without the dreaded cable box. And that could push us towards even closer to the nirvana of Internet TV. But there are so many caveats hanging over this market.

Trump’s FCC will likely kill those proposed rules, siding with the cable incumbents who want to keep you tethered to your cable box. And his FCC is unlikely to curb “zero-rating,” which AT&T is already using to favor its own content on DirecTV Now over the content from rivals. This dynamic may only become more problematic if AT&T is allowed to acquire Time Warner, and the Trump administration will surely allow it. Meanwhile, those live internet TV services have so many holes in them—holes typically involving live sports. Without live sports, you’re still tied to cable.

This year, we may see Comcast introduce its own live internet TV service—but this will come with many of the same caveats as DirecTV Now. Internet TV run by the cable companies isn’t internet TV. —Davey Alba

‘Uber For X’ Will Be X-ed Out

In 2015, the on-demand ride companies Sidecar, Shuddle and Karhoo shuttered. Food delivery apps Spoonrocket and Kitchensurfing sunset their services. Washio, which promised push-button laundry, closed down too. Instacart is cutting courier wages, and Postmates doesn’t expect to profit until 2018.

Sure, Uber is still going strong. And Airbnb is too. But “Uber for X”? It will die in 2017.

Consider the numbers. From nearly $9 billion invested in on-demand companies in the third quarter of 2015—the peak for the on-demand economy—there was a sharp pullback in VC funding shortly thereafter, according to industry research firm CB Insights. And the bigwigs in on-demand—Uber, Chinese ridesharing service Didi, and Airbnb—were getting the lion’s share of the investments. In 2016, excluding those companies, funding to on-demand startups fell by almost 50 percent.

The field was too crowded with too many competitors. This type of business has razor-thin margins, and running these operations is enormously complicated. They juggle not just consumers but contract workers, all while competing with players with already enormous scale, like Uber and Amazon. In hindsight, Uber for X never stood a chance. —Davey Alba

Trump’s America Will Bring Blogging Back

On December 11, 2016, government strategist Eric Garland had some thoughts about how Russia influenced the US election. So he unloaded those thoughts on Twitter—where else?—and called them a THREAD.

<THREAD> I’m now hearing this meme that says Obama, Clinton, et al. are doing nothing, just gave up.

Guys. It’s time for some game theory.

— Eric Garland (@ericgarland) December 11, 2016

  Garland, in language at times lyrical and soaring, laid out what he called a game theory analysis of the long con Russia pulled on America with the surprising endgame of electing Donald Trump president. It’s a conspiracy theory. But for many, the most controversial thing about this conspiracy theory is that Garland unloaded it on Twitter, requiring his readers to wait and read—and wait and read. (The Stranger helpfully compiled them into a single-page story you can read here if so inclined.)

When 2016 kicked off, this would have been called a tweet storm. The hip nomenclature as the year ends is “thread”—as Garland showed—but the idea is the same whether the tweets are numbered or merely threaded. And they are happening more and more in the days since November 9. That’s because liberals on the internet have a lot of thoughts. Not all of them are as nuanced and out-there as Garlands, but on topics ranging from race to the white middle class to Hillary Clinton’s campaign failures, to media bias, to Trump’s foreign policy, people are THREADING.

In response, a joke has emerged: uh, guys, remember blogging? It was sort of this same exact thing where you get to speak what’s on your mind, but you did it all in one go, without frantic typo-ed tweets unrolling piecemeal over the course of an hour and keeping we poor Twitter followers sitting at our desks waiting for the thrilling conclusion?

Like all the best jokes, it’s brilliant because it’s true. We’re entering a period of tumult and unrest in America and along with it will come lots of thoughts and takes and threads and storms. The upcoming culture clash will make the George W. Bush years look quaint, and those marked the heyday of the blogging era. In 2017, mediums like Medium and Tumblr, which easily let people publish whatever they want, will flourish. In Trump’s America, the blog will make a comeback. If only it could bring Google Reader with it. —Emily Dreyfuss

Online Headlines Will Get True Again

As we grapple with the complex causality of disinformation and fake news proliferating through the media landscape, one problem is obvious: people only read headlines. Researchers at Columbia University found that almost 60 percent of stories shared on social media have never been clicked. This is partly the result of the sheer glut of available “content.” People simply can’t read all the journalism out there. And with news delivery services like Twitter and Facebook, which show only a headline and a short description, scrolling story after story in front of frantic, dry eyes, people feel an impossible pressure to read everything. The solution: read every headline and move one.

Others, like “Saved You a Click” creator, Jake Beckman, blame this phenomenon on clickbait culture, which in the late aughts tricked readers into clicking on stories that didn’t actually deliver on the promise in the headline. Readers rebelled against the deceit and stopped clicking altogether. They judged the story by the headline alone and moved along. Aha! Can’t trick readers! But in fact, the logical evolution of clickbait culture was fake news, which understood that readers were not going to bother to read past the first few bricks of the journalistic pyramid, but would rather assess the very top and move on.

In the wake of the 2016 election, which was so influenced by the fabrications peddled in these headlines, journalists, politicians, and technologists are struggling to figure out how to fight fake fire with real water. One very simple thing they can do is write descriptive headlines that are clear and hard to misunderstand. That will be antithetical to the brilliance of clickbait, which leaves readers wondering more. But that model was a failure. It hasn’t saved digital journalism from the financial implosion of advertising dollars in the Facebook-as-News era, nor has it on the aggregate encouraged deeper reading. Responsible news outlets trying to figure out how to convey facts will streamline their stories, pack the opening paragraphs with objective reporting, and, ultimately, they will need to abandon clever headlines in favor of clear ones—if they’re serious about being understood. —Emily Dreyfuss

Tech Will Get In Bed With Trump

The tech industry didn’t always see eye-to-eye with the Obama administration on surveillance and encryption, but that didn’t stop the industry from developing a remarkably close relationship with the White House during the Obama years. White House staffers like former press secretary Jay Carney and former senior advisor David Plouffe landed high-profile jobs at tech companies like Amazon and Uber, while former Google employees, such as corporate attorney turned patent office director Michelle Lee, found jobs in the federal government. According to information analyzed by The Intercept, Google’s lobbyists met with the White House employees 427 times in between January 2009 and October 2015.

But the election of Donald Trump has called the future of tech’s relationship to government into question. Trump’s campaign promoted a relentlessly regressive social agenda that stoked racial tensions, especially on the topic of immigration. The tech industry, meanwhile, has lobbied aggressively for immigration reform, and tries to project a progressive image when it comes to topics like gay marriage (which Trump’s running mate Mike Pence has a long history of opposing). Few in the tech industry publicly supported Trump, while many—including Alphabet chairman Eric Schmidt—openly backed Hillary Clinton.

But don’t expect any of that to stop Silicon Valley from cozying up to Trump. Google is already hiring more conservative lobbyists, Reuters reports. It has long employed former Republican congresswoman Susan Molinari. And, of course, several tech leaders—including Schmidt, Apple CEO Tim Cook, Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos, and Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg—agreed to meet with Trump in December.

Not everyone in the Valley is trying to suck up to the president-elect. Investor Chris Sacca criticized those who met with Trump, telling Recode they were “being used to legitimize a fascist.” But Trump’s advisory team already includes Tesla and SpaceX CEO Elon Musk, Uber CEO Travis Kalanick, Oracle co-CEO Safra Catz, and of course PayPal founder and Facebook board member Peter Thiel, one of the few Valley figures who openly backed Trump before the election.

A few companies have pledged not to help Trump with one of his most frightening campaign promises: building a registry of Muslims. But Silicon Valley’s main interest, ultimately, is business. That’s something they have in common with Trump. The tech industry might not enjoy the level of access it had to the Obama administration. But if you’re looking for someone to stand up to Trump, it’s time to look elsewhere. —Klint Finley

Source: Here’s What Happens to Tech in 2017 (Unless 2016 Was All a Dream)

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