#MOVING LETTER was the most fluent thing I’ve ever seen

[coconut530]

🥖🧈

[imagitory]

Favorite twst boys?

Oooohoohoo, you wish me to talk about my Night Raven College baes? Let’s see then...

Ace Trappola ~ Okay, so I should admit right off the bat that I have a huge soft spot for the Heartslabyul dorm in particular. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll are one of my favorite things ever, and so most adaptations of those works tend to give me some amount of glee, even the really flawed ones. But for Ace specifically, it took me a little while to warm up to him, given that he can be a real prat, but once he and Deuce really rallied around Yuu (especially when they dropped everything on their winter break and took the bus all the way back to school during the Scarabia incident to try to rescue them and Grim -- MY HEART!!!), I fully adopted Ace as my second trash son and that was that. I also loved Ace’s development in the Ghost Bride story line, as well as his admittedly harsh, but still rather fair tear-down of Riddle immediately pre-Overblot. Ace can be really harsh sometimes, but that also makes him an incredibly honest sort who won’t take anyone else’s bull and won’t let anyone push him around -- yet at the same time, he’s also lighthearted enough that he never takes himself too seriously. In some ways he kind of reminds me of Jounouchi Katsuya from Yu-Gi-Oh!, and that’s definitely a compliment.

Deuce Spade ~ MY ORIGINAL TRASH SON. I loved Deuce pretty much from the get-go, considering how passionate he was about trying to fix the mistake with the chandelier and how adorable he was casting the only magic he could manage (“COME FORTH, CAULDRON!” XDD). Then there was the whole “chick” incident where we not only saw his delinquent side which he tries so desperately to hide on full display for the first time, but we also got to see how much he truly loves his mom and how friggin’ stupid and yet absolutely sincere he is, and I just fell in love with Deuce even more. The Wish Upon a Star event where we learn Deuce wants to basically be this world’s equivalent of a sheriff after having been such a delinquent in his younger years only made me feel all the more for this guy -- him wanting to be so much better than he was even if he’s not the smartest, strongest, or most talented guy around I find so compelling and likable.

Riddle Rosehearts ~ Yeah, I know, a lot of Heartslabyul love, but like with Ace, it took me a LONG while to warm up to Riddle. I thought he was a total jerk and I wanted nothing more than to give him a good telling-off (“go ahead, use that stupid collar on me -- I don’t have magic for you to block, you bullying prat!”) until Ace got around to punching Riddle in the face and then tearing him a verbal new one for me. It honestly took Riddle’s Overblotting for me to feel the least bit sorry for him, but it was how sincerely he acted after the fact in trying to make up for his mistakes that really softened my heart to him. Riddle has lived his whole life following rules and convention to the letter, and it’s made him miserable, so now that he’s come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t need to be miserable in order to live an upstanding life, he’s softened a bit. Even with this, though, that rule-abiding, upstanding attitude isn’t always hard to shake, and I think it makes for a much more balanced outcome than if Riddle just went hog-wild and stopped caring about everything -- because the whole reason Riddle followed the rules so closely is he wanted to do what was best for all and to be the best he could be, too. His motivation for being so strict came from a deep passion for leadership and order, and I’m glad that passion of Riddle’s wasn’t dampened, but instead given nuance. Now he can focus his passion more effectively, rather than lashing out in all directions indiscriminately. Like Ace as well, I loved Riddle’s development in the Ghost Marriage plot line, particularly his individual side story with Malleus. It really showcased Riddle’s noblesse oblige moral code, which I personally find the most compelling and likable aspect of his personality.

Jack Howl ~ JACK IS A GOOD BOY. Anyone who disagrees can fight me. (LOL, not really, but...) Like with Deuce, I liked Jack pretty much immediately. From the start, he just came across as so much more down-to-earth and honest than either of the other two main characters from Savanaclaw (even if Jack is also a total tsundere, but honestly, if you’ve watched any kind of anime, you’re fluent enough in “tsundere” as a language to know exactly what Jack really thinks of something). He was sort of depicted as a black sheep in his own dorm, and -- honestly? -- I’m a sucker for characters that are sort of on the fringes and don’t quite conform to what people expect them to be. Add to that how passionate Jack is about working hard and being the best he can be in his own right, as well as how deathly loyal he is, and he’s just overall a character I would love being friends with.

Jamil Viper ~ Jamil was the first character who Overblots who I actually felt sympathy for long before we see his side of the story in flashback form. Part of this admittedly is because I could sort of see where Jamil and Kalim’s story was going ahead of time, but the other reason is that I could see how much work Jamil put in all the time. Even though yeah, it was a real dick move to try to foist out Kalim so he could become Head of Scarabia instead, and yes, he manipulated things to make everyone see Kalim as cruel and irrational, it doesn’t change the fact that Jamil still acted like a Dorm Head a lot more than Kalim did a lot of the time, in the sense of making sure things run smoothly. Kalim definitely brings amazing enthusiasm to Scarabia as its leader and inspires a lot of positive feelings in the people around him, but if there’s a problem, it’s Jamil who often ends up fixing it, not Kalim. And from the start, I really felt for this guy who Kalim -- simply due to privilege -- didn’t seem to acknowledge he was demanding so much of, without receiving the same kind of attention and appreciation in return. I never disliked Kalim for this, because I could tell Kalim didn’t mean it maliciously and admittedly Jamil really should’ve said something since Kalim adores Jamil and would have likely been more than receptive to hearing what he had to say...but at the same time, given their power imbalance, it’s also not completely unsurprising that Jamil didn’t feel like he could say something. The best part about Jamil for me, at least, ended up coming out after he was allowed to finally speak his mind. Yeah, maybe he’s a little meaner now. Yeah, maybe he’s not so patient or amiable now. But he’s also allowed to show more of that deep, searing passion and ambition he’s been bottling up for so long. I loved seeing how much he enjoys dancing and performing through the Fairy Gala event and the recent Pomefiore chapter. I’ve loved how thoroughly (and pretty justifiably) distrustful he is of Azul. I’ve loved how he’s sort of on the fence emotionally about looking after Kalim the way he used to and making sure Kalim doesn’t expect his service the way he subconsciously did before. Jamil is one of the TWST characters who surprised me the most in how much I enjoy him, and I honestly can’t wait to see how much more he grows.

Epel Felmier ~ I WILL PROTECT THIS BOY, OKAY. Not because he’s delicate-looking, but because damn it, if he wants to eat macaroons and steak with the wrong fork, then he should be allowed to just go out and do it. I absolutely love the contrasts we’ve already seen in Epel so far. For as sweet and bishounen as his face is, he has a real rough, informal side fitting his background as a kid from the country, and yet he also has his “Prince Charming” moments too. He completely on his own comes up with the idea to arrive riding a horse when trying to impress the Bride during the Ghost Marriage event, and yet he’ll also tear into a bunch of ghosts who dare mistake him for a girl. Epel reminds me of a friend of mine from high school who also was a lot gruffer and more cynical than his short height and cute face would suggest, and it makes for a very interesting character, I think. You can’t pin this kid down or put him in a single box, and I think that’s awesome.

Vil Schoenheit ~ All right. Before the Pomefiore chapter, I thought there was no way in Hell that I would ever warm up to Vil. His slapping of people’s butts in the Fairy Gala event, his superficial focus on exterior beauty, and his bullying, condescending attitude toward Epel in particular really made me dislike him from the get-go. But then the Pomefiore chapter started and we reached the auditions...and I found myself agreeing with just about every critique he made, in contrast to Rook’s sunnier, fawning reviews. It made me feel like I was watching American Idol or America’s Got Talent and agreeing with Simon Cowell (which I honestly almost always did, whenever I watched those!). And as the Pomefiore chapter’s unfolded, I’ve seen that fascinating contrast in Vil. Yes, he’s very superficial -- but his dream is to act and be an idol, and in that world of celebrity, appearances are important. Yes, he’s very conceited -- but he’s also an incredibly hard worker who’s put in a lot of effort to improve himself and his talents to the point that he should be proud of them. Yes, he’s almost cruel in how relentlessly he pushes people -- but he never holds anyone to a standard he wouldn’t also expect of himself. Yes, he’s very forceful and sees his way as the only way -- but he does truly want those people to succeed in his own weird way, even if he can’t properly express it. Not to mention the fact that he’s constantly typecast as villainous characters, and he just wants to be a hero who makes it to the final curtain call!! My heart!! It’s made it so that like with Jamil, I’ve found sympathy for Vil long before he Overblots, and so I’m all the more eager to see how both the Overblot itself and its aftermath impacts Vil as a character and his relationships with the other characters.

Malleus Draconia ~ Oh, come on, who doesn’t love Tsunotaro? This precious child needs all of the love and party invitations in the world! (And yes, he may be an immortal fae, but he’s still a precious child to me, so there.) I would totally love chatting about gargoyles and grotesques with him. X3

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

pinky and the brain - s1e6: brainania

i’m running on like the barest dregs of energy let’s fucking do this leeroy jenkins

episode summary: brain needs to build a Very Big Tumbly Drier. he needs a lot of money to build a Very Big Tumbly Drier. he decides the best way to do this is to.... invent a country and scam the us out of a foreign aid cheque.

hm.

the rundown:

it’s acme labs!

there it is.

as we zoom in a little, we hear pinky laughing maniacally at the very mention of tom ruegger, while a couple of women are dead on the floor.

hm.

SPEAK TO ME, PHYLLIS, SPEAK. as it turns out, things aren’t quite as dire as previously thought, as pinky affirms that brain looks “simply fetching.”

narf.

“these are the only garments i could obtain. and besides, you are no helen of troy yourself.”

ignoring the fact that he chose to wear the hat and the gloves as well, brain moves onto explaining his latest plan--

but not before giving pinky a static-y poke for his crimes.

“to generate global static cling, we shall construct a massive clothes dryer.”

BEHOLD.

THE TITANOCYCLE FOUR THOUSAND, WITH THREE SPEEDS AND AUTOMATIC WRINKLEGUARD. this will surely allow brain to.... trap everyone in their clothes via static cling and. uh. allow him to seize power...... somehow......... by putting everyone in a really big tumbledryer?????

it costs fourteen billion dollars.

“oh, i have it!”

“we build a huge tooth, leave it under a huge pillow, and then fairies will leave us lots of money!”

brain tells pinky to stop eating paint chips. it’s a well deserved response to pinky’s insane, bullshit idea, not nearly as dignified and scientific as Everyone Goes In The Big Tumbly Dryer By Brain Age Two And A Half.

as he heads off to ponder an Equally Sensible idea to get a lot of money, pinky assures brain that he will not “be a bother.”

“brain.”

“if i ate a hundred jelly rolls, would i explode?”

i don’t know why pinky is sticking his ass out. maybe that’s where the jelly rolls go, in the sense that whenever i used to eat cakes around my dad he’d often say something like “a minute on the lips is a lifetime on the hips”. (also? pinky is british, so what he actually means is jelly rolls, and that sounds disgusting.)

so anyway brain gives him a piece of paper and tells him to try origami.

BUT WAIT.

“pinky! are you pondering what i’m pondering?” “i think so brain, but why the bitch stacey foreign aid office is giving chad all the money while i’ve always been a nice guy and showed her a basic level of human respect is beyond me. narf.”

no i’m sorry. he didn’t say that. pinky respects women. also apologies to the residents of the actual country of chad. big ups to all of you. lol. (he actually says “but pantyhose are so uncomfortable in the summertime”, which is wild, considering this episode was aired in november.)

brain doesn’t want to wear the pantyhose.

well, maybe he does, but not right now. instead, he suggests that they form a bogus nation and demand reparations from the united states, which is, of course, easier, saner, and far less work than Really Big Tooth. as he folds the Chad Newspaper into a vague key shape (the Virgin Tabloid never had a chance) pinky points out that, uh

you can’t just invent a country, brain. “won’t people know we’re not a real country?”

“the average american’s grasp of geography is pitiful. they’ll think we’re part of the former soviet union.”

“or canada.”

so they pick a random, tiny island on the label of a Science Chemical and set off on the boat to Being A Coloniser Town.

a long sea voyage awaits us! and at the end, we shall found a nation! and that nation shall be called!

BRAINANIA.

“can’t we call it pinkyland? or eric?”

“don’t vex me, pinky, or i shall turn on you.”

so they get on the S.S FATTY LUMPKIN and bugger off to Island X.

“i haven’t seen anybody yet, brain. i guess we’re alone here.”

“excellent, pinky. it’s time to flesh out the terrain.”

“that volcano will be mount brain.”*

“this clearing will be brain flats,”

“and that water over there--”

“very well.”

“the fjord of pinky.”

and they hoist their adorable, homemade flag, while pinky doots them a little themetune.

(*perhaps when they’re not in the middle of the jungle.)

how lovely!

less lovely.

significantly less lovely. still, it got brain to make the little O:O face, so it’s not all bad.

as the mice are scooped up onto a sphere and presented in front of this presumably-maori gentleman, brain decides to put his White Gay From Los Angeles skills to the test, and reassures pinky that he will communicate with them in the Primitive Argot Of The South Seas.

ME NUMBER ONE FELLA. OTHER FELLA NUMBER TEN. CATCHY ALL SAME SAME. YOU SAVVY?

“good day, mate. d’you speak english?”

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

anyway apparently this has happened often enough that these guys learnt english. from all the times it happened. and then they ate the guy they learnt english from and shrunk his head, but to be honest, i don’t blame them.

this is alan. “hello, alan.” says pinky.

“i would be pinky! and this is prime minister brain.”

“who is IN CHARGE OF THIS ISLAND AND EVERYTHING YOU SEEEE.”

“narf.”

sneaky bastard knows what he’s doing.

alan isn’t too happy with that, because the island belongs to the volcano god, whanganui,

WHO PROTECTS US FROM EVIL AND HAAARM AND WHAT ALL ELSE.

(i can find no evidence that whanganui is actually a god, as opposed to just A Bit Of New Zealand. if they are, i’m more than happy to go back and edit this as would be religiously considerate.)

this is the face of a man who knows he has fucked up.

still, brain decides yet again that his pride comes before any kind of rational decision, so he decides to tell them that whanganui sent him to the island to rule over them,

as proven by his fire powers.

(ETA: i missed this last time. why is brain carrying a lighter around? that episode isn’t for a good few more seasons yet.)

alan is unimpressed.

I CAN TRAP YOUR SOULS INSIDE THIS GLASS

“i can make bubbles with my spit!”

apparently this is a real talent on the island. who’d have thought. (they do not believe it to be a sign of god. it’s just really cool.)

so brain gets a hand building brainania.

it has everything one could possibly need.

actually pretty much as soon as the airport and the gift shop are built, brain heads to washington, so evidently he holds the strong opinion that this is everything a country could possibly need. odd. still, maybe he plans on adding stuff once he becomes world ruler, or whatever.

so with that established, The Most Exalted ned limpopo gets out of the car. hassan lembeck is also here. he is attempting to make an origami bird out of a newspaper.

no bird for you, mr lembeck. no bird for you.

they wander off to go and see mr bisck, who is currently playing with a little toy plane.

he reacts to the news that the prime minister of brainania is here to see him with “oh great, more moochers,”

and does not seem to take kindly to having tiny mice on his desk, even if they are reasonably exalted.

though a quick database search tells him said mice have no record of financial trouble, or, indeed, a credit rating, so. he tells them to go away.

“go away.”

okay. hassan doesn’t take this well.

as Exalted Ned Limpopo gently tries to persuade mr bisck that he could “harm negotations” between brainania and the us (a lot more politely than he usually explains things to people, may i add) hassan chimes in with a haven’t you people ever heard of bold claim that brainania, if slighted, will INVADE YOUR LANDS

GO BOOM BOOM BOOM

AND MAKE YOU ALL OUR PATHETIC SLAAAAAAAAAAAAVES.

mr bisck does not like this idea, it seems.

as he rushes off to tell the UN, brain informs pinky that he has

“just created an international incident.”

“oh, thank you, brain.”

“in the words of the immortal yogi bear, this is dejavu all over again.”

so the boys turn up on PUNCHLINE, WITH FRED FLUBBLE.

there he is. “perhaps you gentlemen would care to climb up on the desk?”

they make it, just about.

and sing a fun little song about brainania’s war victories, i guess.

WE WILL FIGHT AND NEVER QUIT

FIND ME A ROOFTOP AND I WILL SPIT. NARF

this is not well recieved by the us military.

unfortunately, as the US press secretary points out, the us cannot go to war with a country it can’t find,

(wuss.)

so instead the mice are invited to dinner at the white house.

“in a few short hours, pinky, we shall have our foreign aid loan, and then the world!”

“birdy birdy birdy! narf!”

“i sense much of this historic moment is lost on you.”

at the white house, a very bored looking individual introduces The Most Exalted Ned Limpopo (feat. hassan lembeck), and bill clinton shakes his hand.

“me number one fella. other fellas number ten. catchy all same same. you savvy?”

“i speak fluent english.”

“eyyyy. haha. sure you do.”

“all brainania ever wanted from the US was friendship. friendship, and fourteen billion dollars and fifty nine cents. the friendship i will treasure. the money i will spend on polo ponies and cruise missiles.”

brain has a brief discussion with hilary clinton over the advantages of strontium ninety versus uranium two-thirty-eight,

bill clinton pulls this face and tells them it Sounds Smart,

and the mice bounce merrily back to mr bisck to get their foreign aid check.

“you better not lose it, buster!!! i just erased your records!! you won’t get another one from me!!!!”

HA.

“one should be enough. thanks and farewell, “

“you niggling bureaucrat.”

conclusion:

upon returning back to brainania, The Most Exalted Ned Limpopo finds a letter from alan addressed to him. it’s also mouse sized, which is adorable. apparently, whanganui,

WHO PROTECTS US FROM EVIL AND WHAT ALL ELSE

is “blinking mad”, and the volcano is going to explode.

brain, obviously, does not believe in whanganui, and is mostly just mad that he’s lost his workforce. still, as pinky points out,

“at least we've still got brainania!”

“i sense life has taken another sardonic twist.”

still, they do, barely, have enough time to reach the shoreline and start swimming away from the imminently exploding volcano. perhaps it should have been, yknow, a pretty decent sign that the natives cleared out. historically, people who live in these places tend to know about them, but what of that when brain is number one guy same same you savvy.

🙄

anyway the karmatic response to all of that previous racism is that a tidal wave sweeps them back onto the volcano,

which then blasts them into space.

(okay not literally space. but they do end up on a little raft in the middle of the ocean. don’t ask me where the raft came from. i have no idea.)

oof.

“mother nature has slammed her unmerciful fist on our fair isle, pinky.”

“do you know what this means?”

“birdy birdy birdy!!!!”

brain does not appreciate Birdy Birdy Birdy.

“blast it, pinky!”

“i said, do you know what this means!!”

“it means you just ripped up our foreign aid cheque.”

one should be enough, huh?

brain: 7 pinky: 7 outside influence: 13

like, i don’t know. maybe pinky shouldn’t have been making oragami birds out of the foreign aid cheque. but, while silly, it’s not like it did any harm. brain.... brain just needs to chill.

“well, aren’t you the tiniest foreigners i’ve had in here all morning. i’m mr appleby, can i help you?”

“yes. we would like to have relations with you. and steal some milk duds.”

“we wish to establish diplomatic relations with the us. i am the prime minister, and this is my minister of finance.”

“brainania--? oh, i remember you. you used to be a.... suburb of prague.”

“can you prove you’re a nation?”

“yes! we have postcards.”

“that’s the fjord of pinky.”

“you foreign folk sure have your own.... queer little ways.”

[marcmaccoy]

”LA DIVERSIÓN EN IDIOMAS”

The title above is translated as, “The fun in languages”, something that I never really felt and had at the beginning. Ever since the quarantine started, I really did not plan to do anything nor to improve myself in any of my hobbies at all. Maybe it’s because I expected that all these crisis will be over in a week or two, which obviously and sadly, did not happen. Before, I just like to play my musical instruments, paint, and I got into Korean Dramas as well because of my friends. Sometimes, I bond with my pets and do cooking experiments too. All of these are done in order for me to avoid boredom. However, as time goes by, those things became a bit dull to me and I felt the need to discover something new.

Let me share a bit of my journey first.

As I watch Korean Dramas, I got this tendency to copy what they say and it became a habit of mine whenever I want to express something. So instead of saying, “Salamat” or “Thank you”, I often say, “감사”(gam-sa) which is an informal way of saying “Thank you” in Korean. Also, “안녕”(an-nyeong) which means “Hi”, “네”(ne) which means “Yes”, “아니”(ah-ni) which means “No” and many more. At that time, I didn’t know how to read their alphabet yet but because of my curiosity, I’ve thought of studying it. Surprisingly, I learned “한글”(han-geul) or the Korean Alphabet in just a day! Nine total hours to be exact. I was dumbfounded by how I was able to understand that in just a short manner of time. This inspired me to continue moving forward until I decided to finally learn the Korean language.

In the middle of my journey learning the said language, I began to encounter a lot of interesting facts about it. Such as it wasn’t the writing system of Korea before and how it only existed at about 578 years ago during King Sejong’s reign. It is said that “한글”(han-geul) was created in order for people with little to no education could learn how to read and write. Because before, many Koreans are illiterate due to their very complex Chinese-based writing system called Hanja (漢字) which is difficult to understand. Meaning to say, it was created by the King for the purpose of literacy. Also, the shapes of the letters in 한글 was based on the surroundings and how you say it. These are among the facts that I knew while I became deeply interested in Korea’s traditions, history, and cultures. I was so excited to be fluent that time. I even made flashcards to enhance my vocabularies, watched a lot of tutorials on YouTube, surfed many websites on the Internet, and proceeds to watch Korean series. Little did I know, I was going to unexpectedly give up studying this language. Why? Well, when I got into its grammar, I was surprised by how complicated it is. I also saw videos on YouTube about Filipino learners of the Korean Language that aren’t still fluent after years of studying. So I got a bit down and frankly, I lost my motivation.

Even so, my language learning journey did not stop there. I still want to learn a foreign language that interests me other than the ones I already know which is Filipino, my native mother-tongue and English, my second language. I tried Japanese because of Animes but it was a bit complicated too. They have three kinds of writing systems and the grammar is similar to Korean. French because I have a French uncle and a Filipino cousin and aunt which speaks fluent French but when I knew how it sounded and how the words were pronounced, I already lost hope. French pronunciation is too complicated for me. I also dig up about German because my main to-go-to country in the future is Switzerland and of course, I would want to communicate with people there. However, German is laborious too! The words, the combinations of letters, and the grammar is too confusing. Until I finally encountered the language that’s spoken by the first colonizer of my motherland and it is no other than Spanish.

I started by memorizing basic phrases such as, “Gracias”, “De nada”, “Hola”, and a lot more. I was, once again, amazed by how easy this language is spoken. It is because Spanish is a phonetic language. Meaning, the words are pronounced exactly the way they are spelled. Also since Spain colonized my country for about 333 years, we adopted a lot of words from them which are now considered as loan words. It is estimated that about 4,000+ Tagalog and 6,000 Visayan words came from Spain. Some of the examples include baso(vaso), lamesa(la mesa), tinidor(tenidor), kutsara(cuchara), bumbilya(bombilla), and banyo(baño). As well as the number system, the names of the months, days, expressions, greetings, and many more. For this reason, I was determined to continue learning it because unlike in the other languages, there is no need for me to struggle in memorizing new vocabularies.

I did the same things I did to Korean and just added some new tactics. While my school is on a term break after the first semester, I enrolled at a Spanish Beginner course online where we are taught by a Filipino teacher who is fluent in 5 languages: English, Tagalog, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian. My cousin from France, who’s also fluent in Spanish, gave me books like Spanish dictionaries and grammar textbooks for writing and reading purposes. I was also able to use my Netflix binge-watching skills and started to watch a lot of Spanish series for listening purposes. And on YouTube, I began to discover facts about Spain. Their rich culture, history, and traditions, and how their language was influenced by Arabic as well. Additionally, Spanish is the 2nd most spoken language in the world, surpassing the English language, having over 460 million native speakers located in Spain and in Latin American countries. It is also the 3rd most used language on the internet. That’s a lot of people to talk to!

Furthermore, did you know that being multilingual gives your brain several remarkable advantages? Some of it can be seen such as higher density of the grey matter that contains most your brain’s neurons and synapses. It also helps our brain engage in more activities in certain regions where that language is spoken. And although not yet definitively proven, learning many languages decreases the rate of having dementia by 5 years! In addition, more businesses nowadays are seeking applicants who can navigate the modern global economy. It can be seen that in the 21st Century, knowing a second language is not only beneficial, but necessary for success in life. The continual globalization of the world’s economy is bringing diverse cultures and communities into more frequent contact with each other.

Looking back in time, I was nothing like this way before the quarantine started. Learning languages was never really included in my interests. But now, it is! In fact, I am even determined to shift my college course to something related to languages and pursue a master’s degree about linguistics. Indeed, it changed my life. It changed how I see things from a monolingual perspective and it opened a new horizon for me. Gladly, I was even able to have Spanish speaking friends! I have this one friend from Peru who speaks fluent Spanish and I happily encountered Spanish native people here in Facebook who are trying to learn a different language as well.

Overall, my experience was a blast! There are times that I became tired and almost lose my motivation because of how slow my progress is. But even so, I will not give up. I am not fluent yet and I still have a lot to know but I will keep on practicing until I become one. I believe that in the near future, it will open new opportunities that will be helpful for me too. Moreover, It has always been my dream to travel and I truly think that language learning will be an aid to that. Hoping that I’ll be able to talk to that nearing 500 million people soon!

Before I end my blog, I just want to share this quote from Charlemagne, also known as Karl and Charles the Great, a medieval emperor who ruled much of Western Europe during 768-814, “To have another language is to possess a second soul.”

Bueno. Eso es todo. Gracias por su tiempo leyendo mi blog. Espero que encuentres algo interesante. Además, a aquellos que están aprendiendo otro idioma, nunca perder la esperanza! Pronto seremos fluidos.

Truly, there is fun in languages.

[fredriks]

❝ What I’ve learned from a mirror? Look too hard and you’ll find you a stranger. ❞  FREDERICK ‘FRED’ WEASLEY II looks a lot like that muggle, JUSTICE SMITH, right? Only 19 years old, that GRYFFINDOR  alumnus works as a TRAINEE HEALER and is sided with the ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. HE identifies as a CISMAN and is a HALFBLOOD. [ PLOT ARC 23, PROPHECY 26, THE DROWNED. ]  (cami, she/her, 20, gmt+1)

DEATH TW, PANIC ATTACK TW, ANXIETY TW

PAST

george weasley, entrepreneur legendary, and angelina weasley, quidditch superstar, turned ireland’s national team manager. the couple was a shining example of success and happiness, and that only grew at the news that they’d soon have their first child. a new generation of the ever growing family was on its way, and fred was to take a quiet spot within it - not the eldest, not the youngest, just right. 

born to salt and mist, fred grew up by the sea, in a house his father insisted he must build himself (and constantly repair, due to all the flaws in the construction). the irish coast is carved in sharp cliffs, and some of his very first memories are the wind at the very top - which he swears would have blown him away if his mother wasn’t holding him - and the clashing of waves, making the ground shake. small as he was, frederick didn’t fear the powerful water, but was drawn to it instead. to the contemplation of how much stronger and destructive that natural force was, to the beauty of it, to a humble acknowledgement. in retrospect, he knows this should have been his first fear. sometimes it even feels like a confirmation that there was never a mistake, he WAS brave, but perhaps simply lost it along the way.  

a couple years later, roxanne joined the family. fred was always rather close with his cousins on both sides of the family, but roxanne was different. he couldn’t quite understand it, but it was with her that he developed his role of protector. even though they were so close in age, fred embraced his big brother place, and soon that tender caring way of being was shown to most, if not all. he’d rush faster than all to whichever cousin took a fall, his eyes would fill up with tears at the sight of the smallest bruise on his mother, the result of the quidditch matches she won. he quietly understood melancholic states way before he had any business in knowing what sadness was - his father got unexpected hugs and gifts of drawings after bad days at work, and at a certain date every year. from a rather young age, fred had a knack for emotional intelligence. (this is obv likely to change when we finally have a roxanne, which reminds me - GIVE US ROXANNE)

as a way to connect them to the muggle part of their heritage, angelina made sure her children got as much of a non-magical education as they could before they headed off to hogwarts. with two hard-working parents, it was also the most practical solution. thus, fred’s days were constant tastes of both sides, and that was simply his reality: in the morning he’d be walked to school, just a few streets away. they’d play and learn the alphabet and talk about their favourite cartoons. in the afternoon he’d sit with grandpa arthur, who seemed to ask lots of questions about rather normal things, or he’d “help” dad and his uncle at the store, which mostly meant passing coins from customers to the cashier (a rather important task). george and angelina worried about the potential signs of magic fred should one day show, and how they might ostracize him and later roxanne in such a society, but they soon learned they had little to fear.

fred took a little longer to begin showing clear signs of magic. long enough to bring around some speculation of him being a squib, but it turned out that his magic, regardless of his lack of control or the height of his emotions, was simply subtle - flowers bloomed a little more, a mirror fogged up, a loose thread on a shirt for pulled a few more centimeters. it still isn’t a flashy sort of magic to this day - sometimes it’s like his magic runs on a very empty pipe, leaking a few drops at a time only. others, it’s as if he’s working with a rather fine thread, rich but fragile. he’s yet to learn if there’s an actual block in his system that he need to work out, or if he’s simply carrying a type of magic he’s hasn’t fully understood yet. 

when fred was still rather young, his family showed concern about his lack of complex speech, which soon developed into a very clear stammer. caring as they were, the couple tried all methods, magical and muggle, to help their young son - after lots of trial and error, they settled on a dublin speech therapist, who stuck by fred for most of his early life in constant sessions. the little kids who copied his stuttering with mockery in the playground soon became a foggy memory and at age twelve he had his very last session. his speech was fluent. “cured”, he’d thought. 

his speech was intertwined with his signs of magic  at first. most emotional reactions, which lead magical children to show uncontrollable magic, were conveyed through his stammer. if fred was nervous or angry, it intensified, or his voice was simply blocked. it took close attention for anyone to notice all of this, and his subtle works of magic, and to this day that is how it works for fred. his spells are subtle, almost dimmed. he has an eye for the small touches and delicate work, but can’t make a single thing explode. 

then, it came the time to pick a side. there wasn’t much choice, given how it’d always been expected that the year he turned eleven, fred would move to hogwarts and leave the muggle world behind, so he didn’t say a word. however, there was real anguish in saying goodbye to his school friends and realising that the following year there’d be no way back. he was a wizard, who’d lead a wizard’s life. he BELONGED somewhere else. doing what was expected of him, the boy said a tearful goodbye to his parents, after confessing once again his fear of living away from them; held his little sister for as long as possible;  and took his cousin’s  hand, joining them in the whole chapter of his life. 

HOGWARTS

GRYFFINDOR. fred had no preferences, so he was silent as the hat pondered for a few seconds, just short to a minute. at first the decision made sense - his family had a longstanding reputation in the house of roar, so why not? his namesake, the war hero fred weasley, had been a brave man. his mother was stoic and valiant against everything. frederick had never feared the waves. 

the doubts took a few months to set in. shy and simple, his housemates often overwhelmed him, and the natural feeling of belonging that his family spoke about was a promise that never came. the true sense of displacement came after his very first winter break. he’d returned home, to his house, family, and beloved muggle friends he’d left behind. his routine briefly returned to what it was before hogwarts and january was a cold and harsh reality check - on the second day back, he drafted a letter to his mother, asking her to let him go home. but he never sent it. instead, he made the best he could with the little tools he had, deciding to become a great wizard, rather than a great lion. after all, fred could not quit. the temptation would be torturous, but he had higher expectations of himself. 

fred made few but intense friendships, mostly with kids from other houses. he accepted the narrative that he was not brave, nor noble, much less the hero type, but instead a gryffindor legacy (and that was the sole reason of his placement). he focused on his grades instead, his dream job adapting from doctor to healer - sleepless nights and migraines to achieve the one goal he had in mind, even if he’d stopped feeling the pull towards it by third year. 

from the very start, fred’s relationship with his magic was complicated. he enjoyed it, surely, and was able to perform it, but his biggest aptitude was for the theory of it all. essays, understanding the mechanics, homework. at times, it felt like not much about him would have been different, had fred stayed in the muggle world. sometimes, he even revisited that thought of leaving it all behind - but he never did. after all, he was a driven young man, he couldn’t QUIT.

everything changed in his final year. there’d been commotion in the background, but fred had willingly shut it off until his uncle’s murder. after all, the aurors got it, right? the legendary order of the phoenix got it, yeah? headmaster longbottom got it. HARRY POTTER got it. long gone were the days where children such as himself had to worry about dangers outside the stone walls of the castle, and fred had nothing in common with the generation past, who’d begun their own revolution from within hogwarts. uncle harry’s murder changed it all.

fred knew his limits and fears,  and he’d never think of himself as a revolutionary, a child soldier. yet, his heart belonged to a kinder place, and he was good. out of all the uncertainties that surrounded him and his narrative, frederick knew for certain that he was a good person, and that the world required more of him than he’d been so far willing to give. on his final year at hogwarts, a spark of  purpose lit up after he made one of the few spontaneous decisions in his life, and joined the newly formed knights.

as far as he could remember, fred was a protector, so the decision made sense. it was an unexpected decision nonetheless, but soon the boy realised that at last, something clicked. whenever their work got hard or scary, he didn’t wish to quit, but was energized by a hidden fire. for once, that flame didn’t feel dim. his passion didn’t waver, perhaps because it was more of a necessary task than a hobby. taking the codename of LUCAN - a loyal companion to king arthur even after he’d been hurt himself - fred channeled the bravery he’d never seen in himself. he channeled the knights from the myths of his group. his father and mother. his uncle fred. pushing himself to the very edge just to accumulate a little more kindle.

his seventh year was a haze. like an adrenaline rush, it went over his head. fred felt larger than life and than himself, too big for his skin. while starting his time at hogwarts was harsh, leaving was much harder. how could he in good conscience walk out when they were so close to their goal, to bring back the bravest man he knew? how could he leave them to their own devices? and selfishly, not that he’d admit it - how could he break away from his newfound purpose and from what he so devotedly believed int?

PRESENT

the order of the phoenix, counting legends among its ranks such as harry potter, alastor moody, marlene mckinnon, fred and george weasley - and now him. his friends at school collected their cards. he knew their legendary stories, some directly from the players’ mouths. 

it was the logical next step, but when he joined, just some days out of hogwarts, there was a clear distinction. he was a child once more, rather than lucan, a brave knight. the knights weren’t seen as a necessary part of the war, the order couldn’t yet comprehend the work they’d been doing. neither could fred. 

he took up the codename HORTON, after his patronus, an elephant. the mighty size of the animal, he speculates, is due to his own fears and how much he needs a big protector that can shield him - he’d never consider the possibility that there’s more of him within his small body, or that HE could be that very protector. the codename was the first thing that popped to his head, a memory of horton, the elephant, a character from dr. seuss books he was read as a kid. a kind and loyal character that somehow always achieved his goals, quite a good parallel. did he casually tell the older order people he wished would take him seriously that his codename came from children’s books? yes. no regrets. 

graduated with the soul-crushing requirements for healer training, fred had a ten year plan drawn and step one was taken care of. it was beyond competitive, everyone trying to climb higher and get the best shot - a shock to his system. fred would fall asleep over books, the work consuming him even at home, and yet it wasn’t enough. ‘your heart isn’t in it’, an older healer said to him once, after yet another failure to keep up. it made no sense. on paper, he was the perfect candidate: kind, caring, smart, high grades. hands on? he froze, it was as if his tongue was stuck once more, words and actions unable to get out. 

his heart wasn’t in it. it was busy with the order, where he kept trying to prove himself worthy despite his youth and inexperience. it was busy with his fellow knights, who he couldn’t leave hanging. 

frederick knew that to be taken seriously, he had to close the door on the knights. outwardly he did so, but his research on the resurrection never ended - it was the only logical solution, and one that would bring such joy to his family and himself as well, or so he thought. letters and patronuses, secretly sending research back and forth, maps and notes and order secrets signed with LUCAN at the bottom. their work was too important to stop, and he hyper fixated on it, until death did its bidding. 

first, do no harm. he was not a muggle doctor, but his code of ethics was the very same. on paper, they’d done all the right moves, but it ended terribly. appalled by the results, he fell into a deep hole once the consequences of his actions hit him. as a future healer, he should have known better than to meddle on life and death. as older, graduated, an ORDER member, he should have known better. as frederick weasley, with all the standards he’d self imposed upon himself, he should have simply known better. 

guilt is a consuming feeling, corroding one from the inside out, soul and body. headmaster longbottom was murdered. they’d murdered him. he’d murdered him. and uncle harry, after a life of war, deserved to rest. he’d murdered him too, taking away all that he was and knew. there was blood on his hands. 

the order could not know. if they were made aware of the extent of his actions, how he’d used their resources and knowledge to do this, how he’d not broken away after graduating, they might just kick him out. sure, he’d fed his fire too much too fast, resulting in the predicament he found himself in, but he couldn’t simply put it out. there was too much of himself depending on it, and surely he could still do some work. some good work. when asked, he justified that “it felt right then”, but never that he’d kept on going. the shame over the hurt he’s helped bring about is too heavy. now, more than ever, his younger fellow knights are stuck in war, and he can do less and less about it. 

fred sets clearer lines now. terrified of what war can do to him, and how much of a slippery slope the feeling of usefulness and purpose is to him, he tries to keep himself in check. it barely works, though. his attention is on his healer work now, and how it can benefit the war. perhaps he was always meant to be a helper, not a fighter, or so he tries to convince himself. 

he’s trying to prove himself to the order and earn their trust and respect, but is petulant enough to ignore the experience of the battle-tried leaders. how can he not when at times he’s seen a better way, and been in the very center of it? his attempts to rise up fail when he constantly disagrees with methods and positions, but his voice shakes after one simple denial.

OTHER

“The Drowned will ultimately survive the war, but they will pay dearly for it. Doomed to outlive their loved ones, death might have been a much kinder fate for them.” fred wishes he could apply muggle logic to prophecies and such, but that’s a chance he could never take. the allocation of prophecies and people is a game he’s played many times - that drawer in his bedroom full of half-empty notebooks had a distinctive coldness to it. a mathematician getting equations in place. however, he’s never even entertained the thought that he could be a part of it. even though there are more fates than leaders, he’s just assumed that the war shall be longer than expected, that others will join and be found. 

he’s avoided the topic of mortality within a war, despite it having been the cause of many a demise within is family. during his heyday with the knights, he feared it often, but quietly. he feared for others mostly, and that still applies. the thought of his family and friends getting killed in the conflict drives him into full-blown breakdowns, so he’s learned to lock it out of his head. 

fred will develop a strong sense of survivor’s guilt alongside his already rather intense guilt. the fact that he sees himself as a minor background character, rather than even a small player, and that he constantly feels like whatever he’s done is simply not enough - it all adds up to him never believing he deserved the win that is surviving over all the fallen. every time he needs saving on the field, that someone must disarm his opponents for him or that he purely freezes - it just plays in his head in a loop. how could he consider himself worthy of surviving when he needs so much aid to do so?

death is always a trade. he’s learned that with neville’s death. so who is being traded for him?

he has inherited absolutely none of his father’s famous knack for pranks and being a class and family clown, but rather the bits of dry humour he gathered from both him and angelina. he’s also just too lame in general for it, i love him

his father’s shop in diagon alley is his safe place. after a bad shift at st. mungo’s or with the order, it’s always there that he returns to. it’s more impersonal than home, so bringing that heaviness with him there doesn’t stain the memory of the place. and, of course, being there simply brings his mood up, be it the contents of the shop or his uncle, father and other employees who’ve quite literally seen him grow up. sometimes even when george isn’t there, fred will sit around in his office, or just help shelf stock, marvel for a bit at the creativity that goes into some of the products. however, he visits the hogsmeade location much less.

it was always obvious he’d likely into end up working at weasley wizard wheezes full-time, that his ambitions lied in different places. that was never really an issue within the family. 

his work with the order is a bit all over the place, when they do allocate him a task (there’s a deep frustration growing within fred, though). he’s been doing some healing work, some field as well - although he’s not very good at it; most of all, he’s been doing logistics. moving refugees, spies, soldiers and objects under the radar, organizing who goes where and how - but all under very clear instructions from above. however that flame inside of him craves for more, for the rush once more. 

bravery can come in subtle ways. it doesn’t need to be a showy explosion of dauntlessness, but rather a willingness to remain somewhere terrifying, and to give name, body and soul to something worthwhile. he’s horrified every day, though.

fred has very much built a narrative about himself and his lack of importance and bravery in his head. no matter how often he proves himself wrong, it’s quite hard to change the way you’ve always been thinking.

there’s something very CONTAINED about fred. it always feels like he’s not giving people more than a surface level insight, or that there’s a bubbling underneath, barely contained by his skin. even his closest family struggles with this. he doesn’t quite have a reason for it besides expectations he’s placed on himself - who should fred be? what would fred say? how would fred react to this? or perhaps there’s just something wrong with him, a glass wall between him and the world. 

he has trouble expressing himself. he’s also quick to quit explaining himself anyway.

he’s used glasses since he was eight! goes for a thin rounder rim currently. 

fred has truly kept all knights secrets to himself. despite not being able to deal with the consequences of their mission, he doesn’t see them and the order as partner entities, and his loyalty is much stronger with his armored friends. 

in the last year or so, the techniques he’s learned to deal with his stammer have failed him. perhaps it’s due to the stress he’s been under, but fred has found himself more and more often stuck on a syllable, or fully unable to get any sounds out. especially when he needs to throw a spell out. 

he wishes the order and thus the revolution would be safer, not visible at all even. does think they should feel like they have something to hide. they’d have so much more of an advantage if the whole world didn’t just know them so easily - but his complaints get ignored at the order, especially when he puts them out in a very distinctively know-it-all tone. 

which he has most of the time. fred is very much a know-it-all, a tad arrogant even in that aspect. 

“tell the truth and run”

please make him stop with this ‘i’m not that significant, all people considered’ mindset

fred has a tendency to accumulate until he bursts. his family and close friends have seen their fair share of intense breakdowns coming from frederick. on a smaller scale, panic attacks as well. but he’s never made any push towards getting professional help, passing it out as a ‘thing i do. we’ve all got those, yeah?’

his name is actually frederick, just often shortened to fred. but truly, he prefers the full version. it has a smarter more classic feel to it, and it also helps him forget who he’s been named after and all the complicated feelings that come with that

raised in coastal ireland, fred spent a lot of time growing up at his grandparents on both sides of the family, and in diagon alley and hogsmeade, where his family owned shops. his accent was a tad confusing before he joined muggle school, and then the irishness really fixed. 

growing up in a very halfblood sort of environment and still having to this day close muggle friends had made him develop some rather muggle tastes, especially when it comes to technology and entertainment. huge video games enthusiast, we love a gamer

also loves chess though. and as much as he loves muggle things, nothing beats the rush of wizards chess

he was already graduated when the knights divided and got their daemons, so he didn’t exactly go that route, but he applauded their commitment to doing no further harm. he fears that himself, very often actually. that there’s nothing quite as strong stopping him from falling down the same rabbit hole again. 

really close with his parents and sister. still lives at home but is planning on moving out soon, although that’s quite a daunting step and he’d miss their house by the sea. 

breaks his glasses often 

has a baby face and that only makes it harder for others to take him seriously

messy gay

george dropped out and followed his dreams. angelina was highly successful and passionate about her work. sometimes fred feels like he's lacking that drive and that one perfect goal in his life-long plan. 

he’s the human embodiment of trying too hard

loving quidditch was not a question. raised in the cheering crowds, he got quite a privileged look inside the famous sport, having pictures with loads of quidditch stars, some of them being usual dinner guests back home. he learned to ride a broom quite young, but only applied for the hogwarts quidditch team once, in his third year. he got in, but left during his fifth to focus on his studies and his new role as prefect. he still watches professional games religiously, and is a die hard holyhead harpies fan., although his main allegiance was always shifting to where his mum was playing back then

a very easy crier. tells everyone to just ignore it. 

grandpa arthur got special tours of his muggle schools whenever the family got invited to events and plays. just frederick pulling him by his hand and showing him everything and adoring the curiosity. he always loved mixing both sides of his life quite a lot.

his wand wood (black walnut) doesn’t do well with inner turmoil and loses some of its accuracy and finesse. he’s been struggling with that a lot - always has, but in the past few months more than ever. catch fred throwing it against a wall and leaving the room, only to return and apologise 5 seconds later. 

STATS

name: FREDERICK ( named after his uncle. meaning ‘peaceful ruler’. ) LLYR ( meaning ‘the sea’. ) WEASLEY II

age: nineteen

date of birth: 6th of july, 2006

hometown: lahinch, ireland

current location: lahinch, ireland

gender: cis-man

pronouns: he/him

orientation: so gay

blood status: halfblood

hogwarts house: gryffindor

financial status: upper middle-class

spoken languages: english and can read ancient runes.

occupation: trainee healer

sun sign: cancer

moon: scorpio

mbti: ISTJ-T

moral alignment: lawful good

four temperaments: melancholic

element: water

enneagram: type 1 (the reformer)

father: george weasley ( b. 1978 )

mother: angelina weasley née johnson ( b. 1977 )

siblings: roxanne weasley ( b. ??? )

pets: a dog named lando and a snowy owl named hugh.

wand: black walnut, phoenix feather, twelve inches, reasonably supple.

patronus: elephant

electives: arithmancy & study of ancient runes

NEWTs: arithmancy (A), transfiguration (O), potions (E), herbology (E), charms (O), DADA (E)

hogwarts extracurriculars: prefect, quidditch chaser (3rd-5th year), briefly in the charms club during 4th year

favourite subject: study of ancient runes

least favourite subject: astronomy

[alindakb]

The nightmare called France - by Alinda

Harry looks at the board at the front of the class and tries to make sense of the words written down there. He should be able to figure them out. Maths was always his best subject. But even with the knowledge he was in the advanced class back home he can’t figure out what the professor means. Harry picks up his pen and starts to scribble the notes down, maybe uncle Moony will have some time tonight to translate them for him. Not that it’s likely, on most nights he’s too tired to do anything. So Harry will be forced to start up his computer and hope Google translate will understand his scribbles that are always filled with spelling mistakes.

Years ago, mom had mentioned a French class, said that maybe it would be a good thing that Harry and James would learn it. This was just after Uncle Moony and Sirius had moved to Paris, so Moony could get better treatment for his illness. Dad had been so sad back then, refused the lessons, in the hope his best friends would move back to England in the long run. Now, Harry wished his father hadn’t been so stubborn, then maybe Harry wouldn’t be so lost in his new surroundings.

“Monsieur Potter,” professor Laurent starts. Harry looks up from his notes. The professor speeds on, and Harry picks up the words attention and calculer. He thinks the professor wants him to pay attention and calculate the sum on the board or something. But Harry has no idea how to formulate an answer. He can hardly say that his name is Harry and that he doesn’t speak French.

“Je suis désolé, je ne comprends pas,” Harry stutters. Some of the other students start to laugh and the professor shakes his head and Harry doesn’t miss the word incompétent. There is no doubt in his mind what that means. All the teacher think of him like that here, the students too. He’s the new boy that doesn’t even speak their language.

Harry looks back down to his notes and forces his eyes to stay dry. He won’t cry during class. He won’t give them all the satisfaction. No, he leaves the crying for when his uncles are asleep and can’t hear him. Then he lets himself miss his parents, his baby sister, his friends, his good grades, his place on the soccer team. Man, he even misses professor Snape and his detentions. All of it was better than the hell he’s living in now.

The bell rings and Harry hurries to pack up all his things. He wants to get out of this room, out of this school as quickly as he can. He’s on his feet before everyone else and hurries down the corridor. He’s almost at the doors when his backpack is pulled backwards. Harry staggers and comes to a stop. His bag gets pulled from his shoulder.

“Give it back,” Harry demands. The boys around him just laugh.

“Désolé, je ne peux pas te comprendre,” the boy holding Harry’s bag says. He turns the bag upside down and all Harry’s belonging fall to the ground. Harry crouches down and starts to pull all his notes and books towards him. His eyes scanning the floor for that one piece. He spots it and reaches for it, but the bully is faster. He takes the letter and scans it, a smile forming on his face.

“On dirait que sa maman lui a écrit une lettre,” he says. All the other boys laugh.

“Please, just give that back. You can destroy everything I own, kick the shit out of me if you want. But please, give me back that letter.” Harry holds out his hand. He can feel the tears behind his eyes. The thought of them destroying those last words his mother wrote to him is too much. He can’t lose them too. Not after losing everything else he ever cared about.

“Vous ne voulez pas que nous lisions ceci, n'est-ce pas?” the boy says. He folds open the letter and clears his throat. “Dear Harry,” he starts.

Harry drops his head and slowly pushes his books back into his bag. He tries not to listen to the words that his new classmate yells over the laugher of his friends. Words that were meant just for Harry, left in an envelope in his mother's bedside cabinet. Like she had always known that she would leave him so suddenly and way too soon before he would even get the change to tell her. And she had known all along.

“And don’t worry about being gay, we’ve always known,” the boy says. Everyone falls quiet around Harry. Harry doesn’t dare to look up and show them the tears that fall down his cheeks. This was his, and he hadn’t been ready yet for the world to know. He hadn’t even told Ron and Hermione. And now, in just a couple of seconds, it was out there, for the entire world to know.

“Tu es gay?” the boy asks. “Crasseux.”

“Rends-lui la lettre,” another voice says. The French liaised with an English accent. Harry had heard the voice before, the blond boy is in his class. Harry likes to stare at him, it’s a nice distraction when he’s given up on trying to understand a single word in class. His name is Malfoy, and he’s popular, and as fit as can be.

There are some words between the bully and Malfoy. A huff and then footsteps walking away. Harry just stares at the ground, waiting for the hallway to empty. He doesn’t think he will ever see his mothers letter again. Why did he even take it with him to school? He should have just left it at home, safe from prying eyes.

“It’s okay, they’re all gone,” Malfoy says. He kneels down next to Harry and hands him the letter. “I’m sorry they stole this from you.”

Harry takes the letter with shaking hands. He whispers ‘thank you’ and then looks up into Malfoy’s eyes. He’s never seen them up close before. They’re grey and mesmerising. And the smile that sits on Malfoy’s face. Harry wants to look at it for the rest of his life.

“Potter, isn’t it?” Malfoy asks.

Harry wipes his sleeve over his face to get rid of the tears. He doesn’t want Malfoy to see him like this. “Yes, but you can call me Harry. I hate the name Potter right now.”

“Just right now? So it’s fine again in say about ten minutes?”

A soft laugh escapes Harry. “Maybe, once the teachers here stop saying it like it’s the same as saying idiot.”

“Yeah, they don’t like it when you can’t speak their language. And they’re not that fond of us British. It took me months to convince them I’m not the enemy even though I spoke perfect French when I started here.”

They both get up and casually walk out of the school. Harry tries not to glance at Malfoy to often, but he can’t help himself. The platinum hairs that sweep up in the wind a little keep catching his eyes.

“I’m Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy. I’ve been stuck in this country since I was eight. Father’s business took off here and he thought it would be better to stay closer to where his money was coming from.”

“I moved here only two months ago, to live with my uncles, away from it all,” Harry tells him.

“You don’t have to tell me. We still get newspapers from the UK. I’m sorry they wouldn’t let you grieve in peace.”

Harry looks at the ground. “I just wish I could have stayed with my friends. I hardly know my uncles. And don’t get me wrong, I know they love me, but I’m in the way. They promised to teach me French, promised to make sure I would feel at home. And I know they are trying to fit me into their busy schedules. But they’ve always been just the two of them, and I can see that they miss that.”

“Just give them some time, I’m sure it will all work out.” Draco answers.

“I hope so,” Harry says. He looks into the distance and debates if he’s going to take the subway or the bus.

“Why don’t you come over to mine, I can help you with your homework, and maybe teach you some French words in the process.”

Harry shakes his head. “You don’t have to be nice to me just because you know my entire family died.”

Draco laughs and places his hand on Harry’s arm. “Is this how you treat everyone that’s trying to be nice to you? Because that will explain why everyone doesn’t like you.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m done with people wanting to be in the inner circle of the famous Harry Potter, the boy that inherited so much money he could buy the entire world. And all I want is give it all away if it would get me my family back. But they’re dead! They’re all dead. And I still don’t know why I had to be the only one to walk away from it all alive. I don’t want to be alive,” Harry sobs.

Two arms fold around him and then Harry finds his face hidden against Draco’s chest. He cries and he doesn’t care anymore. Ever since he woke up in that hospital bed, Ron’s mom sitting at his bedside, her sad face and her gentle words when she tried to explain to Harry that there had been an accident. Ever since that moment he’d wished he’d died with them.

It takes some time before Harry calms down a bit. Without noticing Draco has manoeuvred him closer to a limousine. He gets pushed inside and Draco follows him. “My crazy ride. You’re not the only one with more money than is good for them. Father likes to show off how wealthy we are. So no simple rides for the person that will take over his business one day.”

Harry doesn’t answer. He’s finally said out loud what he’s been thinking for the last three months and Draco is acting like it was nothing.

“I should get home,” he stutters.

Draco looks at him, a stern look on his face. “No, you’re coming with me. We’re going to take a look at the homework we’ve gotten today and we’re going to start with your French lessons. Make sure you’ll be fluent as soon as possible. And once we’ve all done that, you’ll stay over for dinner and then we’ll bring you home. And tomorrow, at school, you���ll come to sit next to me so I can translate for you. I’ll introduce you to the people who are worth hanging out with. And afterwards, you’ll come with me again, or I’ll come to yours, to do our homework. And we’ll keep doing that until you’ve learnt enough French to do it by yourself.”

Harry blinks and can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “You’re worse than Molly,” he says. Draco looks confused for one second and then smiles.

“You have no idea how horrible I can be. I haven’t even started on your looks. We need to do something about those horrible glasses. And that hair, you won’t seduce any boy with a crows nest on your head.”

“And what would you know about seducing boys?” Harry asks.

“More than you, that’s for sure,” Draco answers. Harry’s heart skips a little beat at that confession and he can feel his cheeks heating up.

“Just don’t mention that in front of my father. He’ll go off on one of his little speeches on how it’s all a phase and that I just need the find the right girl. Mother will try to convince him it’s not a phase and then all hell will break loose, again. And I hate it when they fight, so just, well, just don’t say anything about me being gay. And stop looking at me like that, it just makes me want to kiss you, and I don’t think we’re there yet.”

Draco’s cheeks get a little more colour on them and Harry can’t help the massive grin on his face. The boy he’s been dreaming about for weeks just said he wants to kiss him. Maybe France won’t be a total nightmare after all.

[tiny-maus-boots]

For your Fic Request: Everyone sees Chloe as a happy person, but like everyone she has bad days. Beca has seen it on occasion and is (insert adjective here) by seeing Chloe's mood improve by doing random acts of kindness.

As per your request...I know it’s short but I hope it’s still enjoyable. Happy birthday dude. 

Better

Chloe sighed and rubbed her face with her hands, letting them drop in defeat onto the open book resting on the table. The letters all wiggled and blurred and she knew she was just too tired and too annoyed to really concentrate. “Okay Beale…pull it together. You had a bad day that doesn’t mean you just stop doing what needs to be done.” The little part of her that was all Aubrey gave a nod of approval at her pep talk even as she groaned and flipped the page back one to start again.

It was at least the third time she’d tried to read the chapter and still nothing had sunken in beyond the section title of Concepts and Applications in Veterinary Toxicology. Chloe took a large centering breath and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and focusing on the first line of the chapter. The sound of all four deadbolts turning one after the other made her look over her shoulder grateful for the distraction.

Beca opened the door as she was pulling her earbuds out and paused in surprise when she saw Chloe sitting at the table. “Hey…I thought you had a class tonight. Is my schedule off?”

She shook her head and stretched. “No I decided not to go.”

The brunette made a soft hmm sound and closed the door behind her careful to throw all the bolts. They weren’t in the worst neighborhood but one break in the first week they lived there was enough for Beca to always be extra cautious. Chloe watched as Beca set her bag down on the bed and kicked off her shoes.

“That’s not like you…everything okay?”

That was the question wasn’t it? She definitely didn’t feel okay but it wasn’t like she had a soul crushing day. She just…felt down. And tired. Chloe shrugged and turned back to her book feeling a little bit like a big whiney baby. “Yeah, sure. Just a little under the weather or something. It’s fine.”

“Yeah okay. Well since you’re ‘fine’ and everything and suddenly have the night free we’re going out. Just for a walk.”

Chloe bit her lip and glanced back up at Beca who was giving her that look that said she didn’t believe for one second that Chloe was actually feeling ill. Her brow quirked up and she gestured to the thick tome. “But I’m studying this very interesting chapter on…” She had to glance back to reread the title “Toxicology.”

“Hm yeah sounds like a hoot.” Beca moved up to her side and shut the book, firmly pushing it away from Chloe. “C’mon Beale, come out with me. I’ll spring for knishes at Schimmel’s…tempt tempt tempt….”

“Beca Mitchell…you sure do know the way to a girl’s heart.” Beca grinned and poked at her belly playfully. As if on cue it growled and they both laughed. “Okay you win. I’ll go out with you.”

It was a sweet gesture and she was so grateful for the company to at least get her out of her own head. Chloe grabbed her ID and her last five dollars and shoved them into her pocket. Money was getting thing and she was going to have to pick up another shift at the shelter if she could. When she turned around Beca was holding up her jacket waiting for her to shrug into it.

“Got everything? Cellphone, ID, apartment key?”

Chloe gave a nod and thumbs up. “Check, check and check.” Beca grinned and opened the door for her with a flourish that made her giggle. They took the stairs down in companionable silence and even made it about a block before Chloe broke the silence. “So how was your day? Did you get to rub elbows with someone famous?”

Beca laughed and it lit up her eyes in a way that always made Chloe’s belly do a little flip flop. They weren’t like that, a couple or whatever, not for lack of desire on her part. First there was Jesse and then work and her school, their living situation, or the fact that the sky was blue…something always came between them no matter how arbitrary. But at least they had something solid and real in their friendship and that brought Chloe a lot of comfort especially on the hard days.

“I wouldn’t say famous exactly. YouTube famous maybe. Dude is a total douche, he has this song and I just…it’s the worst. I don’t even know how I’m going to fix it.” Beca pulled out her phone and handed Chloe one of the earbuds while she cued up the track. Chloe placed it in her ear just as the song started and she wanted to like it, if only because it was a project Beca was working on but her friend had been right. It was terrible.

“Wow that is a flaming turd of a song.”

“He’s a flaming turd of an artist. Today was not my best but…I feel better now than I have all day.”

She handed the earbud back and tucked her hands into her back pockets, smiling at their unhurried pace and the light vibe between them. It did her a world of good and she felt her spirits lift immeasurably. Chloe shifted her weight and bumped Beca’s shoulder with her own. “Thanks for this. I was feeling a little overwhelmed myself today and this was just the right thing to get me out of my funk.”

Beca took a breath and nodded. “I could see that. I’m pretty fluent in Chloe these days.” They stopped in front of Schimmel’s and Beca opened the door for her. It was just habit, she knew, but it was a habit of Beca’s that she appreciated none the less.

“So I’m complicated like a different language?” She laughed at it but trailed off when Beca took her hand and tugged playfully leading her to the line in front of the counter just inside the door. Her heart skipped a beat when Beca didn’t let go of her hand immediately like she usually did.

“That’s…not at all what I mean. You’re different Chloe. So different from everyone I’ve ever met and it took me a minute to understand why.” Beca smiled at her and maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe she was just in a warm comforted haze of knishes and laced fingers but the look Beca was giving her seemed somehow more intimate than every other time they’d gazed at each other. “You’re unselfish and caring and everyone else is basically a shitbag in comparison.”

Her laugh bubbled out and she rolled her eyes. “I’m plenty selfish when I want to be Beca.”

“No…you’re really not. I’ve learned a lot from you over the past few years Beale. I learned that vulnerability doesn’t mean weakness, that hope doesn’t mean naiveté and that sometimes the best way to be better is to do better.” Beca took a breath and turned back to the counter when they got to the front of the line. “Hi a dozen sweet potato knishes and two chocolate egg creams, thanks.”

“Beca…” It was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard Beca say and it meant the world to her.

Beca released her hand so she could pull out her wallet and bank card but the second the transaction was over she took Chloe’s hand in hers again and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know what makes me feel better? Dumping all over everyone that ever tries to get close. Because if I’m miserable no one should be any luckier. You know what you do to feel better? You buy the dry cleaner lady flowers, or spend all morning picking out fruit to make a basket with and give it to your dentist, or babysit those horrible horrible children from upstairs so Mrs. Rodriguez can take an extra shift. And it should totally make you feel worse but it makes you feel better. I’m not there yet. I can’t just…do what you do. All those random acts of kindness just aren’t so natural to someone like me. But I’m learning because I love that about you, Chlo. And I wanna be that kind of person too I figure if I can learn how to do that then one day…” She gave a shrug and reached out to grab their drinks.

Chloe held her breath, tears stung her eyes and she blinked a few times to keep them from falling. “Then one day what?” It was almost too quiet to be heard over the casual conversation of people sitting at the tables and the ring of the register as the person behind them ordered and paid. It seemed forever before Beca grabbed their box of tasty treats and gestured to the door.

They exited the bakery and Chloe assumed that Beca really hadn’t heard her because she remained silent most of the way home. “Then one day I’d be good enough for you.”

Chloe’s heart stuttered to a stop along with her feet. The sounds of the city around them faded and for a second all she could hear was the echo of Beca’s words. “Y-you think I don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“No. I know I’m not. Yet. But…I dunno. I mean. I really wanna spend the rest of my life trying to be…even if this is all we ever are I just…want to be better. Because of you.”

This had taken a quick turn from taking a walk and catching a snack to…whatever this was. Chloe was still trying to process everything and felt a little unsure of exactly what was happening. Beca turned but wasn’t looking at her fully, her gaze flicking between Chloe’s face and the passing cars on the street.

“What are you saying Beca?”

The smaller woman’s shoulders rolled and she finally raised her eyes to meet Chloe’s. “I wanna be with you, good days and bad. I want to be the person you deserve in your life. And I’m realizing this was a totally weird long drawn out way of asking you to be my girlfriend because I’m stupid in love with you and I probably could learn better tim…”

Chloe stopped listening after ‘stupid in love with you’ and pulled Beca against her chest for a long overdue if slightly desperate kiss. The shock of it melted into the familiar comforting warmth of all things Beca Mitchell and Chloe felt the weight of the world melt off her shoulders.

“You’re perfect for me Becs, just the way you are.” Hard days or not at least they’d have each other to make things better.

[szopenhauer]

Have you ever tried to walk on a moving vehicle and fallen over?: I didn’t fall When was the last time you were a passenger in a car and sat in the back?: I always sit in the back

What is the longest your hair has ever been?: to my butt Who does the grocery shopping in your household?: we all do but me and dad most often What is the best thing you’ve ever bought at a thrift shop?: I bought so many things! Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport?: not applicable Do you watch The Simpsons regularly?: I don’t but I like this show anyway :) Did you ever go to summer camp when you were younger?: twice Do you know anyone who is fluent in a second tongue?: me Have you ever been pressured into doing drugs? Did you say yes or no?: I said no

When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard? had a swing Do you burn incense? I heard it causes cancer :(

Does being in love make you nervous? yep Have you ever been so quiet that nobody noticed that you were there? from what I remember Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? yeah Do you stay home when you are sick or do you still go out? stay home What’s your relationship with the person you last texted? we’re datinh Have you had more than 3 gfs at the same time? nooo Are you in a good mood right now? sigh... Have you kissed someone with braces? I have XD Who’s your favorite redhead? real, celeb or character?

How do you feel about being in the house alone? cool When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot? it happens often as I don’t feel it being hot most of the time :( Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics? lyrics Do you have any old friends who you still kinda speak to but it’s awkward? sigh...  When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life? today? Do you forget things easily? depends/some

Would/Do you like having brown eyes? maybe Do you spend a lot of time on the internet? too much Have you bought anyone a Christmas gift? not yet

What is one of your favorite compliments to recieve? compliments are awkward :x Do you compliment other random people? rarely What do you use Facebook for? texting mostly Do you love cartoons? some are nice Do you paint your own nails? I did

Describe your style in one word. comfy Describe your current personality in one or two words. complicated Are you afraid of child birth/pregnancy? it’s one of the reasons why I don’t want any kids What are you favorite bottoms to wear? leggings or pajama pants Do you like dresses? not really Do you eat cake with a spoon or a fork? tiny fork but spoon is fine as well What is your favorite sex position? ;) I'm not a fan of sex What color will you paint your nails next? black if any Are you afraid of ghosts/hauntings? kinda What is your favorite game to play with family/friends? board games and/or car racing games with dad What is your beer of choice? I don’t drink beer Do you like glitter? could say so Have you ever owned a Ouija board? hell no Do you like to text? it seems If you had to be an animal for Halloween, what would it be? bat, cat or wolf (eventually a raccoon but it’s not a Halloween related animal) Do you have more dry skin or oily skin? mixed

Name something that starts with the first letter of your first name. zoo Name something that starts with the first letter of your middle name? - And your lastname. chicken Would you spend 20 dollars on a candle? no way What is the goriest thing you’ve seen in real life? hmm... Twilight or Harry Potter? HP Would you rather be a vampire or a mermaid? vampire P.E or Math? Math or Science? dunno What do you do when someone is really rude to you in public? hard to tell Do you argue with your significant other a lot? we don’t argue  Have you ever had a really painful breakup? they were painful to me What do you like to write with? my hands lmfao Do you prefer to be pale or tan? Don’t say in between. pale What is your favorite thing about Christmas? decorations and gifts but also spending time with my parents Do you prefer white or black electronics? black A stranger comes up to you and gives you a big hug, what do you do? :o Do your eyes tear up when you’re nervous? might Apples or Bananas? apples Water or Milk? water Would you milk a cow given the chance? it’s weird Where do you shop for your underwear? I don’t have a fav place to do that

Do you feel more comfortable sleeping in your own bed or in a hotel bed? my own 

Do you prefer to travel by plane, car, or boat? car

Who is your favorite travel buddy? dad

What’s the best souvenir you have ever purchased? can’t choose

What’s your favorite book to read during a long ride? I don’t read while travelling

What’s the most entertaining story you have about getting lost? me and my father been talking so loud that someone on the street just stopped by and told us where the place we’re looking for is ^^”

What was the most expensive trip you have ever taken? ask my family

Which songs are on your travel playlist? whatever

Which travel blogs do you follow? none

Do you complain when you are bored, or look for something to do? I’m never bored so I don’t complain about it

Do other people’s complaints ever get on your nerves? some/depends

How did you develop your specific taste in music? can’t explain that 

If you drink coffee, how do you like it (with cream, black, etc)? I don’t drink coffee

Did your parents sign you up for things like piano lessons and ballet? no and now I’m a loser

What is your favorite children’s song? Kokoszeczka

Are you good at telling jokes? I am

Other than gas, what do you frequently purchase at a gas station? I don’t purchase anything there

Ten years ago, did you think that this was how the world would turn out? ...

Ever think you might be better off living in a different time period? yup

Do you walk regularly? not regularly but often

If you could have the answer to one question, what question would that be? personal

Do you like any bands from other countries? obvi, most of those I like aren’t from Poland, I don’t like polish music 

When was the last time you mailed a handwritten letter? years ago

Do you still receive Christmas cards? my mom does

Do you know anyone who is really hard to please? sadly

What gets you through the day? I wonder myself

If you found out your bf/gf was homosexual, how would you react? I know she is - elseway we wouldn’t date (ok, she could be bi, I know)

If you are homosexual, and you find out your bf/gf is straight, then what? we break up 

Have you ever sung karaoke? What songs? Was it fun? it was Ich troje song *embarassed*

Have you called anyone today? What did you talk about? not today

Do you drive around the neighborhood to look at lights around Xmas? I like to look but I don’t ride around just for that

Why are so many single people bitter on Valentine’s Day? because they’re lonely and because this day is fake 

What is one tradition you hate participating in? personal

Have you made a fool of yourself today? probably

When was the last time you did something for someone else? recently

Do you let other people choose the radio stations in your car? but I don’t have a car 

Would you say that you are an accepting and openminded person? am not

Have you ever been convinced to try something you didn’t want to do? I have been

When was the last time you cheated–at anything? last time I used motherlode in The sims 4 game?

When you are mad at someone, how do you show them? depends

When was the last time you felt you had a reality check? blergh

Have you ever felt out of touch with reality? dissociation, derealisation, depersonalisation etc.

Have you ever had a tooth pulled? not since I was a kid

How long do you you usually chew a stick of gum? didn’t check the timing

Was there any teacher that made life living hell for you? it wasn’t THAT bad but it wasn’t good 

How about any student(s)? I’ve been bullied if it’s what you’re asking me about - still could be much worse

When was the last time you felt overwhelmed? 24/7

Do you have any coffee mugs with funny pictures/sayings? Did I just rolled my eyes out loud 

Describe something strange that you own? where should I start...

Do you think graffiti is a valid form of artistic expression? I don’t approve of it when it vandalizes property

Are you afraid to walk places at night if you are alone? I’m a petite woman so...

What do you think of people who are shy? hard to keep contact with them

Have you ever gone through a time when you had no friends? How did you deal with it? not counting my family - last several years - I was ok with it as I’m a loner, homebody, introvert

What is something that shouldn’t bother you, but does anyway? fuck off!

Has any food ever made you sick to the point where you’d be afraid to try it again? that happened more than once already

Can you hear traffic right now? I don’t hear anything :3

Have you taken a painkiller today? no

Have you had a nap today? neither

Are you currently in a relationship? If so, do you think it will last? don’t feed my paranoia...

Do you have a hyphenate name or know anyone with one? (eg. Carter-Brown) my sister

Do you take your Christmas decorations down before or after New Years? after

Have you made a large purchase today? I didn’t buy anything today, it’s Sunday

Have you ever used a leaf blower? we don’t own one, we’re not rich

You see someone running around naked in the street. Your reaction? if it’s neighbor’s kid that’s no surprise

Has someone close to you died of murder? no one close to me but still a family member of some sort

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? done

Do you abbreviate when you text? that’s lazy of me, I know

Is anyone in the room on the phone right now? I’m playing a game

[fictionalboysarejustbetter]

Friendships from Afar

Distance creates a barrier of trust. There are no worries. There is always a safety net to fall back on that protects from hurt or pain. Beginning in second grade, my personal goal had always been to find a singular, perfect friend who lives far away. We could talk openly with each other, and I would have the ability to be myself. The plan is that years later, I would meet this person in the weirdest of circumstances, and we would be best friends forever. It’s even better if this friend is a guy, so then we can both fall in love and get married to live happily ever after.

In second grade, the entire class received school pen pals, and while my fourth-grade pen pal was not ideal, I knew I loved this “secret” letter writing system where I am just Rebecca, nothing more or less. Moving into fifth grade, Mrs. Smith found me a pen pal from China. Through our teachers, we would send each other letters back and forth until the school year was over. From this moment onward, I was hooked; pen pals didn’t care what I looked like or how shy I was or how involved my mother was with the school, I could just be me, and they only knew the information I told them. Without asking for help, I scavenged through the internet, trying to collect pen pals as if they were Webkinz. I was convinced this perfect friend could only be found on pen pal websites that look like they were made by my fellow fifth graders.

Starting in sixth grade, I would spend night after night stalking the profiles of random teenagers on Students of the World, a supposedly “safe” pen pal website for kids. Gender? Who cares. Age? About 10-16. Likes? Reading, of course. Language? English please. I would then press search and sift through hundreds of profiles, finding the perfect candidates to be my best friend. This process was extremely predictable, including:

The teenage boys “looking” for a relationship:

Nathaniel, Age 14, UK

HOBBIES:

Photo

Trips

Cinema, Television

Sports

Reading

Painting, Drawing, Art

Hi! Are you looking for a cool guy to write to? Send me a nice message otherwise you’ll miss something priceless. 

I can speak:

English, French

The liars that claimed they like everything and speak every language:

Janhvi, Age 16, USA

HOBBIES:

Photo

Trips

Clothes

Cinema, Television

Sports

Sciences

Music

Reading

Animals, Nature

Cooking

Collections

Painting, Drawing, Art

Hello !!👩I'm Janhvi .I like to travel.I have traveled in to many countries .Such as india , sri lanka, china, france and more.I like make new friends.message me soon guys.👭👫OUR LIFE IS CHANGE , BUT FRIENDSHIP NEVER BE CHANGE.

I can speak:

English French German Italian Spanish Arabic Chinese Japanese Korean

The students making a profile for class:

Chaya, Age 13, USA

HOBBIES:

Clothes

Cinema, Television

Music

Reading

Animals, Nature

I am looking for a penpal for our school project. I would like to find some in Atlanta, Georgia.

I can speak:

English

I would scroll through these profiles so constantly that I rarely found new profiles. I was judging every profile based off of the person’s name, biography, age, likes, languages, everything. Most people without a profile picture wouldn’t receive an email from me. I tried to avoid messaging anyone from the United States unless they sounded like a major fangirl or fanboy over the books I liked. I automatically favored anyone from Europe, especially if they had an interesting name. But regardless if anyone from anywhere sent me a message first, I would respond back at least once.

Shortly after the search began, I received a message from a girl named Julia from Australia. She and I were the same age, we both needed a friend, and we both liked reading, animals, music, and clothes. Quickly, my life began to revolve around the fourteen hours that always stood between Australia and the United States. Throughout sixth and seventh grade, we would be constantly messaging on the messaging app “kik,” confiding everything deep and useless to each other like best friends do:

Becca says:

Hey, how are you?

Julia says:

Everyones well... Mum and dad start the long drive to melbourne this weekend so everythings kinda topsy turvy :p

How is your family and pets? Im sorry for my rudeness that i didnt ask earlier

Nearlytime for school?

Becca says:

Lol that is fine! I get to school around 8, so normally ill drop off right before, lol i try to remember to tell you but i tend to forget. Theyre good though. Willie and Apricot are happy my grandma left :-P mom and dad are helping me with my ancestry project and exploding of happiness because I got a position in that volleyball club and my sister has been working and spending money :-P her favorite thing to do

Julia says:

Ahh the christmas spirit... Lol is there anyone in the house who loves your grandmother?

Becca says:

Lol we love her because shes family, but no one loves her when shes here if you know what i mean.

What’s up?

For two years, the conversations would continue for hours, as we both wait anxiously for the “ding” on our tablets, indicating a new message. Julia’s father was a firefighter who fought the nasty bushfires that haunted their country. I interviewed him as my hero for my final paper and presentation in my eighth grade English class. I interviewed him through email after our initial plans to Skype were sidetracked by the active wildfires, and I so proudly presented the information about him that you would have thought he was my father.

One day, Julia told me about her divorced parents. Then, she told me about the twins her mom just gave birth to. Then, she explained that she actually has a twin brother and no younger siblings at all. Then, she became an aunt to twin nephews. Then, her house burned down, and she had to move across the country. Then, her parents just moved across town. The stories continued and continued only within months of each other, not adding up in any way, shape, or form. With hope still in my heart, I sent her all three books of The Hunger Games trilogy since she really wanted to read them, but two months later, the books came back in the mail as undeliverable. The address did not exist.

Unable to admit defeat or accept the idea that my best friend might not be real despite all of the evidence, I started to panic. What if she is catfishing me? I’ve seen that show before, and I even gave “her” my address. Whoever this person is could easily come to my house and kidnap me...maybe I should tell my mom and warn the police. But maybe, she just has a really hard life, and she compulsively lies to make herself feel better? Maybe, she just really wants attention, and that’s why none of her stories are adding up. Besides it could still be her, she may just be scared. She could have just lied and is younger than she said and is trying to sound cool to impress me.

With these panicked thoughts raging through my body like wildfire, I blocked her from kik and began to ignore her emails. I forced myself to just disappear, so then I would have nothing to worry about. I cannot trust that Julia is really Julia, so I will just watch “her” occasional emails come in, analyzing from afar who “she” may be. I’ll search for her on Google and Facebook and Instagram and Students of the World and anywhere else I can look. The emails would keep coming for years and years, but they never held much content to them, and I’m still left to question who “Julia” is.

My Julia investigation was stalled for now, and the void of not having a constant penpal to talk to quickly came back. Therefore, my search to find the perfect best friend needed to be expedited since Julia was certainly not cut out for the position. I continued to search Students of the World with my new smartphone every chance I had. In between games at volleyball competitions, Hope and I could be found by the nearest outlet on my phone, scouring the website for the perfect answers within someone’s profile. We would send out messages together to the nerdy fangirls and fanboys around our age. Every day during the bus ride home from school, Jenna and I looked through the website on our phones, judging everyone’s biographies and pictures. Jenna created a profile too, and we would have three-way Skype sessions with Sylvia from France until the two of them became too close and stopped inviting me to Skype with them.

Finally in April of ninth grade, I received a promising email from a 16-year-old boy from France:

To: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com From: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com

My name is Kristopher and Im from France !

I watched a few days ago Divergent and it made me want to read the books !

I see you like tv shows and video games as I do !

I am not fluent in English but I can talk to you !

If you want I can learn you French ! :)

Typically, I would spend about twenty minutes every day responding to emails from random penpals on my way home from school, but within the first three or so emails to a person, one of us would just stop responding. In regard to Kris, I generally liked video games, but I wasn’t obsessed with them, and I had a weird taste in TV, so we probably couldn’t talk about that much. But Divergent by Veronica Roth was my all-time favorite book. As soon as I read that word in the email, I knew I would be responding until he stopped responding to me. It had always been my goal to fall in love with a fanboy, especially one with the same taste in books and movies as me, so I immediately responded with:

To: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com From: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com

Hi Kristopher!

What part of France are you from? I live near Pittsburgh, PA, USA.

Yes, definitely read the books! They are amazing! I find myself gravitating towards video games and shows more than sports! :P

I don't know much of French as I take Spanish in school, but I'd love to learn some and help you with English as well!

Rebecca

He emailed me back within minutes, and we emailed for most of the evening, talking about books and food and the differences between the United States and France. That night though, my phone battery had died, and it was only for a few hours. After plugging it in, I found five unread messages from him, making sure I was okay.

To: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com From: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com

Lol it works ! :) Good courage to go back to school ! :)

To: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com From: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com

Hey sweetie 😆

To: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com From: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com

How are you Miss ?

To: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com From: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com

Do You use words like ain't or gonna ? 😆

To: fictionalboysarejustbetter@gmail.com From: coolfrenchboy@gmail.com

Are you OK ?

As soon as I read these messages, my heart fluttered a little. This was just the beginning of our constant messaging and talking. I happily responded to him, and within days, Kris was my perfect, new best friend. The random space he left between the last word and the punctuation of a sentence would drive me insane, but I didn’t have the heart to explain the process to him. We talked so consistently that it would probably be considered unhealthy, discussing pets, family, being the youngest child, aspirations, atheism, languages, food, books, video games, and everything else under the sun. I was stuck to my phone all day, and every time I picked it up, I waited in anticipation for a notification with his name and the random spaces between his words and the punctuation.

The six-hour time difference between the two of us meant nothing, with him staying up late and me getting up early. Between classes, we would sneak each other messages about how our days were going. My week-long field trip to San Antonio, Texas was spent either messaging him or scouting out an outlet to plug my phone into so that I could talk to him. The more access I had to Kris, the further I distanced myself from my friends and family. When my phone would die or I wouldn’t have reception, I would look around, annoyed by whoever the people around me were. Kris was the perfect friend I always wanted; he was my best friend, and I was his. Neither of us needed anyone else, and hopefully, all of our talking and flirting would lead to love which would lead to marriage.

The summer before tenth grade came, and Kris seemed to be growing distant. Supposedly, he was travelling all summer, and he would rarely have access to wifi. I counted down the days until he would be back home, and after one measly conversation, he disappeared again. I sent message after message, finally receiving a response about his brother pushing him in the pool and his phone being in his pocket at the time, so it was destroyed. The summer seemed to be surrounded by disappointment, but hopefully when we went back to school, our relationship would continue to be as strong as it was before.

Tenth grade began, and Kris was still busy all the time. Apparently if he kept up his hard work, he would be valedictorian. Since I couldn’t spend lunch chatting with him anymore, I bragged that I was basically dating this amazing French guy who is valedictorian at his school. Until October hit, and then I would receive the dreadful message that he has a girlfriend. Ironically, this only made our conversation stronger than it had ever been, and he even picked out my new haircut, sending me endless compliments on it. The next day, he sent another message, explaining that his girlfriend didn’t want us talking anymore so it would probably be best if we just stopped. I was bad at listening to these directions, following this conversation up with many, many new messages in attempts to strike a conversation with him again. These messages earned me a nice block from Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat.

My only method of contact would now be email, so night after night instead of stalking Students of the World for new pen pals, I would send Kris emails. I now began to understand that feeling that I caused upon Julia, who may or may not have been Julia. Throughout October and November, I received a few responses that sounded like an automatic email reply, but one email in mid-November stood out, as it was one of the last ones I would receive from him.

To: thisismyname@gmail.com From: thisiscoolfrenchboysnewemail@gmail.com

Hello Becca,

I did act stupid and didn’t answer your messages at all. When I emailed you first, I never thought our friendship would get that strong !

Guess what, there used to be a time I was really in love with you, but I haven’t dared say so … The one biggest reason was the 6000 km that stand between us ! You were the one I loved talking to ! So I talked to you and you never waited to answer and neither did I.

I don’t know, something went wrong, time changed, I’m sorry I haven’t answered you for long, this is all my bad. I wish I could go back to past to fix this.

This message will never ever be able to patch things up, but it (I hope ) will tell you that I never forgot you .

My mother would tell me time and time again that any type of relationship separated by physical distance would never work. I had never believed her, but after receiving this email, I understood. Why had I ever believed that the perfect friendship would be through time differences of at least five hours? These relationships do not automatically create a barrier of trust, often making it even harder to trust. There are always going to be worries about who that person is and what their intentions are. There is no safety net to keep you from being hurt or feeling pain. Once there is a roadblock within your barrier of communication, you cannot simply get it back after running into each other at Walmart or flashing them a fake smile as you pass them in the hallway at school. As soon as one person blocks the other or the number of unread emails increases substantially over months, that person is gone forever.

[taenys]

🌙 tiffany’s magnetic moon tour fanaccount🌙

So, we got to the venue at around 1pm but only did a little drive-by to see if there was anyone already in line. There was no one, and my sister and I didn’t really want to be the ones to “start” the line, for fear of being kicked out by the venue staff. We instead just walked to a nearby café to have lunch and wait to see if more people showed up. 

After a couple of hours, we walked to the venue again and there was still no one there, so we walked around the block again, and when we got back to the venue there were 3 people “in line”/waiting around by the entryway, so we decided to just wait with them. This made me 4th in line for the entire event. This guaranteed that I was going to be not only at the front row, but also in the center. At this point it was 3pm, and the VIP meet and greet thing was supposed to start at around 5:45 so it felt like a good time to be in line. 

We stood in line, cold and nervous, but mostly just excited. I had replayed in my head over and over what I was going to say to her when I met her, but nothing sounded quite right. I’d seen from other people on twitter that they’d gotten hugs from her, and had time to say quite a few things, so I prepared myself for a similar experience. At around 6:20 (much later than the scheduled time for the VIP entry) staff finally called the VIPs and we all went through security. It was finally time to meet Tiffany herself

I gave the letter I wrote to her to her staff to give later. We were told meetings had to be done in groups of 5 or 6, so my sister, mom and I were in a group with the 3 people in line in front of us. When we walked in, Tiffany was seated on a bench by herself and her staff directed us to take a seat on the bench, 3 people on each side, and that they would take 2 photos and that was it. 

I wasn’t really listening to anything anyone was saying though because the sight of Tiffany left me in shock. She was so tiny, and so PERFECT. How a human could have skin THAT clear and smooth, and a smile that shining…it was unbelievable. The 3 people in front of me obviously got the seats next to Tiffany, so I didn’t get to see her as closely nor did I get to directly interact with her during this VERY quick little “meet and greet.” She directed us (in her typical Manager Hwang way) on how to do the poses; first we did the “magnetic moon” pose which was just making a crescent moon by making your hand a “C” and placing it over your eye. The second pose we did finger hearts. My hands were shaking and my heart was racing the entire time.

Afterwards staff promptly directed us to leave and head for the main stage area now, but the two fangirls in our group stopped to ask Tiffany for a hug. They both got a hug and Ruby and I just awkwardly watched and walked very slowly in the direction staff was trying to get everyone to go. It was clear staff didn’t want anyone getting hugs or any special one on one time with Tiffany, it was just supposed to be a sit, get your picture taken and go sort of thing. I didn’t want to leave without telling Tiffany SOMETHING so I said “You look so beautiful Tiffany” on my way out and she looked at me and gave me that cute puppy dog look of hers where she furrows her brows (y’all know the one) and blew me a kiss with her hands in the sweetest way. My night was made with that alone. I didn’t get a hug but I was the first fan to tell her that she looked beautiful that night. 

After that we all scurried to the barricade to get our spot for the show and, of course, I was front row right in the center. We considered going to buy merch before the crowd inside got bigger, but decided against it for fear of losing our spot in the pit. From then on out it was just time to wait for the show itself to begin. That moment when the lights go off and you know that means she’s about to step on stage, and the music starts up and the stage lights start swirling? Nothing will ever beat that feeling. It’s the best high there is. The curtain opened up and Tiffany stepped out. My heart literally stopped. Tiffany…was wearing…the tiniest tightest little red dress of all time. Ruby and I had discussed what she might wear for our show, since she’d been wearing something different each time so far. Never in my life did I imagine she’d decide to wear the ACTUAL SEXIEST OUTFIT OF ALL TIME for US. That TEENY TINY DRESS, hugging her curves in all the right places, paired with the black fishnet stockings and black boots, holy FUCK she came out to kill each and every one of us. My lesbian ass was DYING. No offense to anyone else who sees her at any of her other stops but, that outfit will never be topped. With her long black hair in those sultry loose waves, too? Iconic. 

RFYL was her opening song, and what an opening THAT was. I remember screaming to Ruby next to me, “her SKIN????!!!!” because it was absolutely mind-blowing how smooth and flawless her skin looked? Like literal actual porcelain. And then how tiny she is in real life?????? I know her profile says she’s like 5’4 or something but she’s 5’1 MAX. She’s TINY. And sooooo thin, but so RIDICULOUSLY beautiful. I couldn’t even focus on the music initially, I was still too mesmerized by her physical presence, and how absolute IN LOVE with her I am.  After RFYL she did Over My Skin which…singing that song, with those lyrics, with the sexiest choreography in THAT dress…just fuck me up Tiffany Hwang. What a win for the lesbians tonight, I swear :’) I recorded fancams of every song, and took a few little breaks to take pictures so I’ll post those after I post this. 

Heartbreak Hotel was next, and I was so glad she did perform some of her older Korean songs too. God, her voice though. She’s SO good live. The notes she was hitting, those runs she was belting? Legendary. I was scream singing along with her the whole show (my voice is gone now). She kept telling us to dance and seemed to give more fanservice to fans who were singing along and dancing too, so I made sure to…well, be myself I guess. I’ve never been the kind of fan who stays seated during a concert or just goes to “listen.”

One of my favorite things to do is blast kpop and dance around the house when I’m home alone, and one of the things she said during one of her talks in the show was that she wanted to see THAT kind of energy. A judgement free zone, so even though I didn’t hear anyone behind me scream singing or feel anyone near me dancing (the dude next to me was quiet and stiff as a board the entire time), that didn’t stop me and when Tiffany looked over at me (which she did A LOT), she’d get that BIG smile on her face, with her signature eye smile, and I’d MELT. It made her so happy to see us having fun along with her. Seeing Tiffany have fun playing around with us, nothing feels better. We made her smile, I made her smile, and you really can’t beat that feeling. 

So during the next song which was Talk, one of my all-time favorites of hers, she saw me signing my heart out at her and knelt down to sing to me and we just had this sweet perfect little moment where we were singing to each other and I just????? I have no words. Love. All I felt was love. Pure and simple. That’s my love up there, signing her heart out and I’m so proud of her. I’ll gif that moment but I swear, it was the most intimate and significant moment of my life. And it had to happen during my favorite song of course :’) I’m going to cry every time I listen to Talk now :’( She looked at me an absurd amount of times during the show; I can’t even count them all. But she came and sang to me again during Runaway, and it was again…INCREDIBLY intimate and sweet and magical and felt so special. I’ll probably notice even more little eye contact moments from here when I go through all my fancams, but for now those were the two most significant moments. 

My overall feeling now after replaying it all is…Tiffany is unquestionably one of the greatest artists of our generation.  More than just her being one of the best vocalists (that husky soulful voice of hers remains unmatched), she’s pushed herself in so many ways and it’s been so amazing to witness? She was teased about being an “awkward” dancer, so she came out with “I Just Wanna Dance” and proved everyone that she could be a fucking great dancer. She’s a perfectionist, she’s her own worst critic, but she’s never given up. God, I fucking admire the fuck out of her for that. She’s never stopped; she’s never given up, she’s kept her head up, kept smiling through all the bullshit she’s gone through because at the end of the day singing and performing is her entire life. 

I’ve never seen anyone as passionate about singing and performing as she is. When she’s on stage you KNOW that this is the whole reason she was put on this earth. There was never any other option for her, and that’s why she left home at 15 and moved to Korea, without the support of her family, not knowing anyone and not speaking fluent Korean. She went with the fiercest determination, the biggest dream, and an unstoppable spirit. She was going to sing, that was all that mattered to her. Training day and night, being under the nightmare of the Korean music industry, she was willing to tough it all out just for a chance to be on that stage, to share her voice, and eventually to share her own original music for people. 

And now she’s 30, doing her first NA tour. Baby Hwang Miyoung’s dream of inspiring the lives of millions has long since come true. The collective feeling of warmth and comfort we all felt when she sang The Flower was so serene and so breathtaking. Some of her songs make you feel like you’re being held in a comforting embrace. Others make you feel like you can conquer the world, some make you feel stronger than you are, and some make you feel the butterflies of a first love. I can’t wait to see what else she comes up with in the years to come, and I can’t wait for the next fucking tour!!!!!! 

And, to quote something I wrote about her over 5 years ago that holds truer now than ever, “Tiffany is an actual angel that came down from above to spread love and warmth and happiness and inspire us all to be the best that we can be and to never stop dreaming and fighting for what we want. basically, Tiffany is the epitome of all that is good in this world. Tiffany is a blessing to this earth. she encompasses everything good, everything positive, every good feeling, she just…she lives it. in everything that she does, she works hard, she never stops smiling, she never stops being who she is and finding a reason to keep going. she’s the most determined and the most driven and the most optimistic, and that inspires the fuck out of me. i just…i can’t believe someone as amazing as her exists in this mess of a world. she’s a reminder that there is good in this world, there is still beauty and love and laughter and light.” 

That’s what Tiffany is to me. 

[refusaltobow]

The Siege of Blacklight: A Letter for a Forgotten Soul

The letter had drifted in on a model boat, calmly resting in the corner of the harbour and laying undisturbed and undamaged for the longest time. The Siege had been mostly over at this point but still it was not entirely peaceful yet. Uneasy councils had been taking place, and no one had any time for the harbour really.

But after weeks of fear, tension was finally falling as the citizens felt more at ease to move about the city. So it was no surprise really that a child found the boat, that they opened the letter addressed to whomever would find the boat requesting that the boat be delivered to the local Temple. That contained within was a letter for a dear, deeply missed friend and an offering.

And so the child did as the letter bid, giving the boat and its objects to the Temple where a young priest read the first letter in the quiet of a small room in the Temple. It was a relief to read a letter like this - rather than having to deal with comforting the endless grieving families. The most painful casualties of any war were always the innocent citizens. The ones who never asked to go to war and yet were always caught up in it.

It was an...odd yet touching letter. Whoever had written it was not fluent in writing Dunmeris, but they had tried, with any words they did not know in Dunmeris being written in the Common Tongue.

To Whomever finds this boat,

For reason I cannot say, I am unable to deliver the enclosed letter and offering in person. I request most humbly that by the Grace of the Three that this boat and its contents be delivered to the Temple.

If you are of the Temple and are reading this I would politely ask of you a favour. I wish for the contents of this boat to be delivered to the Ramarys Family Tomb. The offerings to be burnt and the letter enclosed to be read aloud. I ask that the paintings be placed around the ash pit and the diary also be read aloud when possible.

I hope you understand my anonymity, the consequences of appearing in Blacklight would be too great on my part, though this pains me so.

The one whom the enclosed letter and offerings are for a close, departed friend. I can only beg that you do not speak of the letter’s contents, it is rather personal but I understand the dead can only know something if you speak.

The priest nodded to himself. This wasn't the first time he had had such requests, having dealt with many letters to lost forbidden loves.

Examining the contents of the boat he squinted at the objects. Well… This was a rather unusual assortment. Contained within was a bag of saltrice, some pinkish feathers and a bag that smelt like a mix of spices he could not identify. Additionally there was a reasonably thick small book that must have been the diary and a collection of small oil paintings, containing beautiful depictions of Tamriel’s various landscapes and wildlife. Some were even of Morrowind, the priest found himself chuckling at the painting of two nix hound pups play-fighting.

His squint grew as he read the name on the second letter. The Ramarys Clan were large and it was no surprise that no one could remember any of its members aside from Thetys.

But who was this Ramarys member?

Curiosity and duty caused the priest to immediately head out for the Ramarys Tomb which proved a challenge. Whilst he had lived in Blacklight for many years now and seldom found himself lost, he now found himself double-backing. The Siege had rendered much of the city unrecognisable and navigating the streets was treacherous in itself given all the loose rubble.

But what was strange, was that once the area with the family tombs had been reached the destruction was almost non-existent. It was surprising really that the tombs had not really been targeted at all, or even hit by accident. There were some other areas of the city that followed a similar trend. And whilst perhaps the Thalmor were wary of enraged Dunmer ancestors, surely they did not care about some spice shop? That little spice shop was remarkable, whilst the area it was in had been heavily hit that little shop had remarkably remained untouched.

The priest soon found the Ramarys Tomb and entered to find it completely dark which was no surprise. Given the Siege, family members would not have been coming here and the priests were stretched thin enough as it was, they just did not have time to ensure candles remained lit in all the tombs.

The spirits of this tomb were not best pleased, but the priest had long ago trained to ignore their anger. Instead he began to sing a gentle song in Dunmeris, lighting candles as he went and checking various ash pit. Soon the tomb was licked by the lights of many candles and the stagnant ash-scented air was being pushed away by the burning of whatever spices the priest had been able to find.

The spirits calmed, their presence dimming as they accepted the priest’s apology and went back to sleep once more.

It took a little bit of time, but soon he found the correct ash pit, double-checking the name and frowned. This ash pit was relatively recent and he swore this was the ash pit he saw the Drillmaster often sitting by. What was so special about the Dunmer whose ashes lay here? And how had such a Dunmer been forgotten so quickly and easily?

Murmuring the respective words, the offerings were burnt. And the paintings placed around the edge of the ash pit.

“Hello, someone has sent a letter for you.” The priest settled himself on a chair, opening the letter carefully and stopped. This was three pages! He had rarely received such long letters for the dead before!

Clearing his throat, the priest began to read and soon found tears pricking his eyes as the raw emotion of the letter hit him. The paper was covered in smudged ink from where the author’s tears had hit the paper.

My dear friend,

I would ask you how you’ve been but I'm guessing that when you're dead things change little. But I'll ask you anyway, I hope that wherever you are you are at peace.

I honestly don't know what to say any more than sorry. I am sorry I failed you. I am sorry I couldn't protect you. I am sorry I couldn't save you. I am so sorry for the horror Blacklight has been subjected to. I am sorry I couldn't do more and stop this.

I failed you and your people and I can only ask that you find it in yourself to forgive me. But if you don't I understand and it's honestly what I deserve. I’ve failed you a second time now. Once is forgivable, but two times? I understand if you hate me now.

But at the same time I cling to the hope you can forgive me - you were always the forgiving sort. Such a kind soul. You didn't deserve the fate that was dealt you.

No. Writing about that day only makes me cry more. I can only apologise that I couldn't do more. I should have been able to save you but my Magicka failed me. You were right, that such reliance on Magicka was foolish and yet you had come to realise relying purely on physical means was not enough. Especially when Magicka can form a shield at your back.

You never admitted it, but I could tell you saw its uses. I caught those nods.

But on that day I should have used my sword entirely, I should have saved my Magicka for when it really mattered and you’d still be here.

If anything that was my deepest regret. I do not regret in the slightest coming to Blacklight and even moreso I am deeply grateful you were assigned to me. I do not think I could have grown to appreciate your city as much as I have had I been with anyone else. All those adventures we had…

Do you remember when you bet 50 drakes that I couldn’t eat 10 marshmerrow hand pies in one go? Your face! And remember how I fed a Bantam guar that was wandering around, and how you said I shouldn’t because of what would happen? The next day I had so many Bantam guar outside my door! They were so adorable, oh if only I could have some!

Remember when I tried riding a guar for the first time and fell off? Or how I tried on some Redoran armour and it didn’t suit me at all and how silly I looked? And then you insisted on putting some Redoran war paint on me!

I never really learnt my way around the city, I always ended up getting lost. But I think that was more owing to exploration by the end as opposed to trying to find my way. Blacklight is a city that wants to explored and I couldn’t resist it.

Remember when you took me to that ridge beyond Blacklight to watch the sunrise? Neither of us spoke, it was so beautiful.

I learnt so much from this city and from you. I can only thank you and Blacklight for the experiences.

My only other regret would be that I didn’t tell you more. And sometimes I wonder if I should have told you, if I should ever tell you and yet I think it best if I keep some things to myself.

But back to the current situation, no matter how much it pains me. I have tried my hardest to ensure that the attacks were not directed at the tombs or the temples. I tried my best to have your favourite spots evaded, but I could not save Blacklight entirely. I could not be caught but I hope my actions have saved your city and her people enough. Morrowind has suffered enough already, it does not deserve this and if I had more power I would have stopped this attack. My aunt did what she could, neither of us wanted this. We tried so hard to prevent it but our voices were ignored, I can only hope that our actions were enough to reduce the bloodshed.

But this letter was not just to bring you and I sadness. I want to tell you some other things.

I did promise you I would show you Tamriel and it breaks my heart I never could. That we were so close and yet we never got there. And whilst this isn’t the same, it is the nearest I can do - the paintings I’ve provided are of the various landscapes I’ve seen throughout my travels. I hope these paintings allow you to travel a bit (I am not sure how much you can travel Tamriel from the afterlife).

After I left Blacklight I did not exactly go straight home. I was home for a few months but then I knew I just had to travel, I decided to travel for you, I had no idea why at the time but now I know - so that I could document as much of Tamriel as I could for you. I had already seen a fair bit of Tamriel but that had been on missions, never at a more relaxed pace where I could explore. (I have included a small book, in there are my most interesting diary extracts I thought would you amuse you! Maybe a priest or priestess could read you one every so often?)

Each of the paintings I have included do have an accompanying story in the diary, but I think I’ll include one in this letter.

The picture with the Orisimer was painted from within the stronghold looking out at the stunning view of the mountains. It was a funny story that one. I approached the stronghold, thinking it better to ask the orcs first if they would mind if I sat a little way off and paint the mountains with their stronghold. I wasn’t too sure of Orisimer, and wanted to keep on their good side. They simply asked that I keep a good distance, they couldn’t figure out why anyone would be out here painting! ‘Paint only goes on the body!’ I remember clearly was what one of them said. And so I got myself comfortable and started painting. A few hours went by and I looked up to find one of the womer just standing there watching me. She had a child with her, they were curious but reluctant to approach.

I smiled at them and turned my painting around so they could see. After some persuasion, they approached and the child was so excited! The womer was fascinated by the painting and wanted to know what there was to be gained from painting and so I explained. I told her how painting allows me to capture scenes that could be gone one day. It allows me to show others who have not travelled or cannot. I told her it was something I had always enjoyed.

Then she asked me why I wanted to paint the stronghold. “I’ve never painted one before and the Orsimer do fascinate me. You are a very resilient people.”

Whilst she could not understand how I could enjoy painting, by the end of the day I had several Orisimer children sitting about me as I did a painting of them fighting a sabrecat (they really wanted me to paint them fighting something and they were so adorable I couldn’t say no!). They loved it! I have them to thank really, they ran back to the stronghold, encouraging me with them and showed my painting to everyone.

After the Chief decided I was not a threat, just odd, he permitted I could stay a few nights in the stronghold for safety. He was so taken by the painting I did of his children he requested I do a portrait of him. He was very pleased with the result and I enchanted it so it would not be damaged.

Orisimer have a curious way of life, and yet for a race known for being violent those days in the stronghold were peaceful. The Orisimer did spar but the general atmosphere of the Stronghold was oddly tranquil. There was no one else around for miles, I guess that’s why they had built their stronghold there.

I stayed a few days in that Stronghold, I ended up painting them a giant portrait of Malacath as thanks. In return I was given a sword which was magnificently crafted as to be expected. It really does have the perfect balance and has served me well thus far.

There is one other thing to add, that you have to know. You were such a dear friend to me, such an honest and noble person. You represented House Redoran truthfully and I don’t think I will ever again meet someone as selfless as you. Gods how I miss you! And whilst I cannot be here physically to talk to you but in a letter and provide you with an offering and paintings, there was one other thing I could do for you. When I returned home I ended up getting married, my husband is a lovely man - I think you would have got along well with him!

Just two years ago we were blessed with a baby girl and even then I knew what I was going to name her! I insisted that she be named after you!

She’s already very inquisitive, and already showing signs of Magicka! I have no other explanation of how she managed to get a jam jar from one of the highest cupboards! I walked in to find her covered in jam, she’d eaten most of the jar would you believe?! And she was smearing it absolutely everywhere!

She’s got my hair but it’s really curly, gosh she’s adorable!

In a few years I’ll tell her all about you and Blacklight! You really were the person who made me see everything differently and I thank you. I can only do you justice by passing on such knowledge, and of course, naming her after you.

I just hope that things will change so that one day I can bring her here and perhaps I could talk to you? I don’t quite understand how getting ghosts to appear works in the tombs but I’m sure it can be explained.

Even though you cannot reply I am grateful I could write this. I can only hope this letter finds you.

And thank you for everything once again,

Thank you so so much,

An old and dear friend who visited Blacklight fifty or so years ago.

The priest sat utterly still as he finished the letter, his throat painful from the lump that had grown there. His face was streaked with silent tears. For someone who had seemingly been forgotten they had not been by this person. And what they had said and how they clearly were not Dunmer… The letter seemed to suggest that they were with the Thalmor, surely that was impossible! And yet it made so much sense…

This person had been to Blacklight before and had clearly fallen in love with the city. So much so that they had returned to take part in this Siege, not to cause suffering but to try and prevent it. Now it made sense, why some places had been avoided. Could it have been that that little spice shop was special to this departed Dunmer?

It was only now that the priest noticed the air around him was warm as the ash pit was tinged with a blue light.The spirit had indeed heard the letter and was incredibly happy. A soft smile lifted the priest’s lips as he blinked away the tears and wiped his face.

Focusing on the paintings, he tilted his head as he decided how best to display them. Nodding to himself, he ambled off for a few minutes, returning with an armful of ash yams. Given he had nothing else, he was using the spare ash yams stored in the tomb.

“I’ll just get these paintings into a better position for you…” Kneeling down he picked up one of the paintings and set it gently on the rim of the ash pit to lean it against the ash yam. This he repeated until the pit was ringed in paintings.

Finally he opened the box at the side of the ash pit where other offerings were sometimes stored, placing both the letter and the diary carefully inside.

Standing up, the priest surveyed the pit once more. Yes, the paintings were in a good position he thought.

“I’ll leave you in peace now. Whoever you are, you sound like you are an incredible person. I’ll come back tomorrow and read you another story from that diary.” A soft smile graced the priest’s lips, nodding as the blue light flared before it fractured and drifted away in faint wisps. Even in these dark times, some happiness could be found.

Sighing, the priest turned about and left quietly knowing soon he would have to be dealing with the grim nature of funeral arrangements and comforting families. But at least he had been able to offer a forgotten spirit comfort that they were not so forgotten.

[poisxnyouth]

letter 2 myself

Part of me believes I will never truly part with so many things. And sometimes everything hurts, not necessarily in a bad way, though. I feel myself drift sometimes but I always come back to the reality that I control everything I do or have done. I always have the power to say no. I really dissociate a lot and that may be unhealthy but it’s also gratifying. I find myself in so many things and I feel like I'm able to appreciate those things even more because of that. 

May 9th of last year I truly wanted to die. I was going to do it. Someone still very important to me talked me out of it, thank God, but it was so hard for me to move on after that. I made a pact with myself after that where since I was going to be going on a big road trip out west (I'm from Florida) and seeing the Grand Canyon and whatnot, I figured I would have seen everything I needed to, and if I was still unhappy with life after that, I'd officially end it. I fucking hate every ounce of having to admit that. it still hurts to think about it. I still can’t really admit to myself that I like living, but I know that I need to go on, that I can change something, and I feel like that’s improvement in itself. I still feel that way sometimes, but I always try to tell myself that I need to be the person I thought that I'd be when I was a little 3rd grader in Mrs. Garland’s class named Hailey. I had such high hopes for myself. 

When I was little, I didn’t know what I wanted and I still don’t. In 3rd grade, I was in a musical for Aladdin; in 4th grade, it was something called Toy Camp; in 5th grade it was Jack & the Beanstalk. During this time, minus 3rd grade, I was in chorus and it was everything I'd hoped for. I always wanted to be involved in music, always, always, always. In 6th grade I wasn’t in band at all. in 7th, after a huge argument and trying to tell them that I thought I was depressed (they didn't take it seriously) I joined! I started on clarinet and I was really good at it. In 8th grade I was in the symphonic band and it felt like no one liked me and unfortunately that feeling lasted into freshman year. Except for one guy during band camp, but he’s kind of irrelevant even though he fucking broke my heart twice but that’s besides the point (also besides the point: I know I'd still absolutely get back with him and drop everything for him which is also so so sad) um, my grades started to go to shit but they were enough. So, this year, I was a sophomore and I can say I got better, gladly. I've been clean since last May 9th of 2017. Marching season was amazing and I've honestly never felt so close to the people around me. My grades are still fucking ass and I honestly don’t know if I passed sophomore year, but I'm gonna do summer school to make up the credits nonetheless. 

I can’t believe I fucking did it. One year clean! This is the most I've ever been and I have so much love in my heart right now for everything and everyone around me. I know everything will be okay. The world won’t come crashing down if I fucking stutter when I speak. I will be okay. the world will keep spinning and I have trust in that. I have trust in my peers and my family and my teachers. The world isn’t that good right now but I will always hold onto band as something sacred in my life. My guidance counselor was almost disappointed in me when I was explaining how much band meant to me. I always thought I wanted to go into music and while I'm second guessing that now, it doesn’t mean it‘s on the backburner. It probably shouldn’t be, but school is. Band impacts me mentally and socially so much more than SCHOOL does.Band has taught me how to be compassionate and trusting and it means so much to me and I really genuinely do not know how other people do not see that.

Life is so much better now. I will carry the scars on my left arm happily and shamelessly and I know I have it better than a lot of people. I tried to find God this year and I’ve been skeptical the whole time but I can truly say I've never felt him inside of me more than I do now. We are all tiny specks but I have so much love for so many people and things and I will live to see the light of day until I die and I will live to go to the Louvre and Musée d'Orsay and Monet's home in Giverny and fucking travel. I will do it. Everything will be okay. I am the only person truly with me for the rest of my life. I'm alive and breathing and crying and my heart’s beating and I have feelings for people and I think people are attractive and I love celebrities and I'm bisexual and I'm from Orlando and I love Savannah, Georgia and I love bookstores and I love Call Me By Your Name and Alien and Fall Out Boy and art and music and watching people act and I love fashion BECAUSE I CAN. I have been looking for the negatives. It’s time to start looking for the positives. It’s time to start looking for the positives in even though I've been standing in set for 5 minutes straight in silence and my arms are giving out and my feet hurt and even though I've been working for 5 hours and my eyes burn from looking at the computer screen forever there’s always a positive. 

Someone makes my heart happy. A few people do. And I will never have them. That‘s okay. I can still love them but let them go. I can still love their laugh, or their walk, or their style, or their smile, I can still love their hands. I can still miss the way it felt hugging them or pressed up against them when they ran their hand down my hair in the movie theater that one time. I can still feel their touch on my skin and how much freedom I felt when I was in good standing with them. I feel the same freedom letting them go. It hurts I never got to kiss them and saw them kiss someone else or pine after someone else every day. But I'm okay with it, because I remember when I'd hug them and I felt their heart go a million miles an hour because I was so close to them. I miss making them feel that way and while I hate seeing someone else do what I couldn’t, I'll be able to do it again with someone else someday. 

I will find peace and happiness and love with someone else through time. I have to pay my dues for that. I will settle down and I will find out what I love or what the content of love is through time. I may finish school when I'm 50, but that’s okay. I have one life to live and I'll be damned if I live it in nothing but peace and love and happiness and everything I dreamed about when I was little. I'm going to do what I have to, finish school, graduate, join the navy after I graduate, get out when I'm 21 and go from there. I can’t do this by myself. but it’s only me who can decide what I do and who I listen to and what rules I follow and it’s only me who can motivate myself. I'll be able to go to France and become fluent in French and I'll learn about psychology and I won’t fuck with those bullshit AP classes and I may have to do the bare minimum to graduate but I don’t have to go to fucking Harvard or Yale to get a good education. It’s not about that. I will learn everything as I go. There’s always going to be more negatives than positives but the positives make everything SO GOOD. I just have to do this and cherish the life I was given and the moments and seconds and relationships i’m given with people. I don’t fully love myself yet but i’m getting there. I have so much love to share, the love I was missing out on during middle school and these past 2 years of high school. 

I'm working on it. You should too. Believe in yourself. We are eternal.

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 26.09.17 lb

“shaadi na ho gayi mahabharat ho gaya.”

bloody hell, good someone recognizes. this shit’s been going on for like.................. years.

wow anika, utaaavli much? seedha elvis pose! 

waise good to see she’s anxious to get laid as well. 

LMAO EVERYONE’S REACTIONS:

omki as usual, is the bestest. i love him so much. 

lol yeah sure anika. hella poor coverup job. 

ugh these two fuckers. cut out the fucking cute and GIVE ME THARAK.

ok how many things today? ring ceremony, mehendi... matlab, 3 mahino se is bloody shaadi ko kheenche jaa rahe ho and now everything’s going to happen in one fucking day? fuck you ppl. 

OMFG ZAAAAAAAAAKIRR KHAN. I LOVEEEEEEEEEE HIMMMMMMMMM. HE’S ONE OF THE FUCKING BEST STAND UP COMEDIANS INDIA HAS. 

i’ve seen him live as well (his new haq se single tour), and he was absolute fire. he did the entire two hours without even a pause for water! 

some of my favt bits by him (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) it’s a little heavy on indori + delhi hindi slang, but if you’re fluent, you’ll love it. 

haaaaye, mere sakht launde ke kya din aa gaye, ke is chutiya show mein usse cameo karna pad raha hai. laanat ho tumpe star plus. laanat. 

pls, shivaay would never be friends with zakir. ever. zakir’s whole schtick is based on his middle class-ness and self deprecation about the chutiyaapa of life when middle class and average and not model-esque looking. now anika and zakir being friends, i can see. they really should have had him be HER friend. 

ok this shit is hella embarrassing for ZAKIR, so imma fwd. 

anika has fucking loooooooost it. 

invisible gauri is in charge of sangeet. (get well soon shrenu! i miss your face already, my little button!)

ohhhhhhhh boy, pinky. 

her complaints be fully legit though. 

wow, even om is trying to shush shivaay. 

dadi has fully forgiven pinky. even after suspecting her to do khulaasa of the oh so dangerous raaz and what not. idgi. 

anika is freaking out. like why though? they’ve gone through this wedding shit a million times. like... just get it over with, sis. 

the real crisis: “main pehnoongi kya??????????” 

hubs is here to calm her down. 

“AAPKA BREATHING GAYA TEL LENE. DO DIN MEIN SHAADI HAI, PEHENE KE LIYE KAPDE NAHI HAI, BREATHING THODI NA PEHNOONGI!?!?!?”

lolllllllll

khudi ke choice ko beautiful keh raha hai. usse bhi toh dikha. she’s the one who has to wear the damn thing her whole life. 

ouffffffff what is this stupid immature billu and bandariya fight???? 

ok that was a little uncalled for, shivaay. 

but i mean.... ok. i woulda done the same. chick was getting OUTTA CONTROL.

aaaaaaand..... every action has an equal and opposite reaction, so....

“breathe shivaay. JUST BREAAAAAAATHE!” lmaooooo

time for some seski romancinggggggg. 

uh huh honey. get itttttttttt. 

sealed with a kiss! 

that ring is too big and so un-anika-like though. 

whut. where the fuck did she get a ring from tho???? 

and how did she conjure that shit up like a fucking magician? 

billu looks like he might cry. i’m loving the whole reversal of the proposal trope!

yo man my girl got some maaaaaaaaaaaad moves, and some hella alluring “let’s sex” eyes. billu can’t even handle it. he’s a weepy, gooey mess. 

ouff billu why would you ask for one more kiss ON THE HAND? you and your damn hand fetish. 

ok my damn heart is bursting from feelz. *weeping* my babies. my beaaaaauuuutiful babies. so happy and peaceful (in the moment. let’s see how long it lasts.)

ocd perfectionist billu is being a pain in the ass for the vendors. ek toh last se bhi last minute order, upar se nakhre hazaar. in the words of zakir, hatt behenchod... 

lol shivaaaay has a phobia of the words “thank you” now. he hears it and instant pavlovian response; thinks he’s fucked up and needs to start grovelling. 

lmao “(w)ow likhne nahi hote shivaay, wow ko mehsoooos kiya jaata hai!”

uh, you’re hindus. “vows” have been prewritten for you for thousands of years. you really don’t need to khapaaofy your sar over it? awaiiii ke chonchle during last minute wedding. 

HE’S WRITTEN HIS VOWS ALREADY. WHAT A NERD. 

ew what is this excited to share in front of whole family waali feeling tho? who are these ppl who like to exhibit their most private feelings like this? mera bas chale toh there’d be no one at my wedding other than the groom and myself. i don’t need ppl witnessing this nonsense. 

“are you staring at my lips?”

lmaoooooooooo him correcting her from offscreen. 

what the fuck even is this rudra scene???? like.... what even is this fastforwarding of their plot???? just yest they were in the guest house almost making out??? 

LMAO ANIKA ADALAT MEIN OATH LE RAHI HO KYA???

ok the first vow itself is setting her up for failure. girl you know you’re gonna call him baaghad billa before the end of the day even.

dude, just steal his vows. 

EEEEEEEEEEEEE SAHILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL 

lolllll i knewwww it. she’s making sahil steal shivaay’s vows. 

WHAT FUCKING CONNECTION RUDRA

GOD BHAVYA WHY THE FUCK IS HE IN THE HOUSE RUINING YOUR BIG DAY 

there’s not even dosti between you two. he’s a whiny little pissbaby who’s not even worth befriending. coz he doesn’t get how men and women can be friends.

yup. he’s manhandling her. great. 

AND SLUT SHAMING HER. OMFG RUDRAAAAAAAAAAAAA YOU’RE THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING WORST

that’s 3 outta 3 oBros slut shaming their future wives. great job, gulneet! keep it up!!!!

BHAVYA FUCKING HELL GET HIM FUCKING ARRESTED. GOD YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER GIRL; PLEASE, LOVE YOURSELF, MANAV IS SUCH A NICE GUY PLEASE JUST MARRY HIM

lol this tiny munchkin thief. 

aaaaaaaaaaaaand shivaay’s here. 

LMAO HE KNEW SHE’D TRY TO STEAL THE VOWS 

omfg the vows are so damn extra, all tied up in ribbon and shit wtf

ok i know this kinda comedy is laaaaaaame, but I FUCKING LOVE IT. also, it was nice to see shivaay in shark singh oberoi mode after a long long time. 

ohhhhhhhhh boy, shivaay gonna fuck her over. 

LMAO HIS LETTER TO HER: 

“wow anika. sorry, nakalchi bandariya. i cannot believe tumne apne chote bhai ko chori karne ke liye bheja, you cheater. apne vows khud likho, and remember it’s VOWS. with a V.” 

sahil sach mein bohut ekta kapoor waale serials dekhne laga hai. 

“aapki help ki chakkar mein meriiii integrityyyyyy pe question mark lag gaya!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

lmaooooo his dangal waali impression. 

“behen ki shaadi hai, bhai ko aur bhi bohut kaam hote hai, CHORI KE ALAAWA!!!!” 

lmaooooooooo omg i love sahil so much. petition to have him replace rudra as the youngest oBro, coz honestly i want to strangle rudra with my bare hands rn. 

daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn omki, you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind, OH OMKI!!!!! OH OMKI!!!!!!!!!!!! 

omki be all angsty at wife telling him to gtfo. good. 

god i’m so sad we won’t get angsty rikara romance during shaadi ki rasmein. i was soooo looking fwd to it. 

rudra fuck you to fuckkkkkkkkk. 

yes, for fucks sake make your utara hua thopdas better coz SO HELP ME GOD I WON’T LET YOU FUCKERS AND YOUR INSENSITIVITY RUIN THE BIG DAY OF THE ONE OBRO WHO ISN’T COMPLETELY ABOMINABLE RIGHT NOW. 

this weird angst is soooooooo killing my buzz. could you assholes just gtfo???? i really don’t care about your issues that you’ve brought upon yourself.

holy shit shivKara look so damn hot in black. i wanna spread them on toast and just nommmmmmmm. 

can’t even look at rudra with how much i hate him today. 

pinky looks nice. unhappy af, but nice. 

.... why are shakti and tej so awkwardly seated? 

ok, anika’s outfit... isn’t BAD... but isn’t GREAT either. but my girl so pretty, she looks fire anyway. 

i’m really missing more of a younger female presence in this episode, like gauri and bhavya and sumo.

(lol prinku who???? noone gives a shit. gauri has fully replaced prinku as the baby sister of choice. “sabse choti!!!!!!!!” shivaay yelled yesterday. like literally no one gives one flying fuck about stupid prinku who only added nothing but misery to their lives, as opposed to gauri who adds magic and happiness and sunshine and glitter.)

heart eyes motherfucker. “wow” is right. 

i have the same question as shivaay: tote ki yaadaasht achchi hoti hai???? 

she’s gonna fly by the seat of her lehenga and fuck you upppppp billu. 

waise, why are the vows being read on the mehendi day, instead of the shaadi???? 

is baar mehendi mein kaunsa corrosive liquid hoga? 

aaaaand pinky’s going awff. 

shivaay’s wielding phone of tadi. and is fucking up whoever’s on the other end. 

“sab kuch pefect chahiye toh khud karna chahiyeee” bada dialogue maar raha tha. why didn’t you go out and get the mehendi yourself then????

bike pe kaunnnnn hai? is it that new dude? 

lmao mehendi ka wait being made so overdramatic. sit your ass down and wait, loser.

is new dude bringing the mehendi????? 

THIS FUCKER JUST RODE THE BIKE RIGHT INTO THEIR LIVING ROOM. LIKE.... HE HAS TO BE AN OBEROI FOR SURE. SUCH EXTRA CAN ONLY BE IN THEIR GENES. 

what the fuck were security even doing when someone RODE A BIKE INTO THE HOUSE?????? 

digging his leather jacket/skinny tie combo though. 

whoever he is, he cute af. can we replace rudra with HIM? 

“you’re the most beautiful, kind, wonderfully weird girl i know... tumhare saath bitaaya hua har lamha is like an adventure, and i just wanna be with you forever.” 

well damn. those ARE some perfect vows. 

[darkwebaccess]

Wasting My Life

How are things between you and your significant other, How long have you been an item? If you do not have one right now, how is the single life treating you? Do you prefer the single life over being taken? Single life is trash.

How would you feel if a significant other asked you to make your relationship ‘open’ as in, see other people but still stay together? What would you tell them? Would never work

When you were younger, did you mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? nope 

How many break ups have you had to go through? How many of those break ups were with the same person?
 idk

What is your favorite item of clothing? Do you wear this item often or just on special occasions? my hoodie from ubisoft club from a video game that I play. I wear it often. sentimental value I suppose.

Have you ever regifted a present you received on a birthday or Christmas? Who did you regift to? Did you feel bad about doing so? yes, i’ve done it before.  I didn’t feel bad because I knew the person actually wanted it.  So it worked out.

How many languages can you say Hello in? Do you speak more than one language fluently?
 probably only like 3.  I wouldn’t say I’m fluent in them though. I understand more than I can speak.

What time is it right now where you live? What are you usually doing at this time, besides surveys?
 3:16am usually playing video games.

Have you ever bought something as a gift for someone else, but liked it so much that you decided to keep it for yourself, instead? What was it?
 I bought two of the same gift, one for me one for them.  Idk if that counts

Your favorite movie, how long is it? How many times have you watched it recently? 

Pulp Fiction, 2h 58min, haven’t seen it awhile.

How many letters are in your full name? Are most of the letters from your first, middle or last name? 17, First

Do you know what day of the week you were born on? What about the time?
 don’t know the day, but it was at 1:23pm

In the summertime, do you sleep with a fan on, just the AC or do you just leave your window open?
 fan on with window open

Are you typically colder or warmer than those around you? Do you complain about being hot or cold, often?
 warmer, I don’t really complain when it’s cold, but I complain when it’s hot

If you could pick the ideal age to have a baby, (disregard any other factors, like a husband or job or house) what age would you pick?
 never

Do you plan on traveling a lot in your lifetime? What about moving around a lot? Will this be from state to state, country to country, or what? There are a lot of place I still want to visit. Mostly other countries. I don’t plan on moving around a lot.  I already know where I’d want to live if I had the choice. But it will never happen.

How old where you when you had your first pet? What kind of animal was it? What was its name? 
 parents already had pets when I was born so.... they had 3 cats. Blue was y dads, Kaz was my moms, Spike was mine.

Have you ever tried to find any of your childhood friends whom you have lost contact with over the years? How did that go for you, did you find them?
 I never lost contact with them actually.  They seem to be doing really well in life so, I guess I’m happy for them..

^What about family members? Are there any that you do not know the whereabouts anymore that you would like to? 
 there is one of my cousins that disappeared when I was still a kid, no one has ever heard from him since he left...

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose?
 shoes or pants I guess

When taking a survey, do you typically read the person’s answers before typing in your own? Or do you just erase them without reading them?
 always read theirs.

Are you easily persuaded when in an argument with another person?
 not really, but I’m good at understanding other’s point of views.

How about gullible? How gullible are you now?
 not at all

If you drink coffee, do you drink it for its taste or caffeine content? If you dislike coffee or do not drink it, what do you do when you need an energy boost? mostly for the caffeine, but I usually drink redbulls because coffee isn’t strong enough for me.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? music.

[norxxcoffee-blog]

Part 9

Soon I will be moving this story to ff. net, but I will continue to post links to it here! Part 10 should appear there tomorrow- but for now enjoy! :D (also any religious references are purely for the story and not meant to offend anyone)

Teaching Finland Swedish proved to be no small task. He could write well enough, in a flowing script that made the letters look like art, but more often than not he used Finnish. When Sweden attempted to talk to him, he would give that blank-but-lovely stare of his, and turn away from his self-appointed teacher. 'Give it up,' Denmark often said. 'If he doesn't want to learn, you can't make him.' But that was his attitude in everything- he saw no point in trying to fix something that didn't work. Sweden hoped fervently that he was wrong. He wanted to speak to Finland in a language that was not one of stolen glances and half-smiles, wanted to give voice to his secret thoughts. So he persevered. Finland was made to read scrolls and notes from the king's councils, made to copy out hundreds of words thousands of times over, and at the end of the day, had to read a passage from the Bible. Denmark and Sweden both listened to his reading every night, though they were still wary of the Christian faith. Odin and the other gods had passed out of living memory, so it fell to them to honour their old religion, never truly accepting the one God and his ordered world.

'Love is pat...patient.' read Finland that night, as the three of them were gathered around the fire. 'Love is kind. It does not- does not en...envy. It is not-' He hesitated, finger under one word. 'Proud.' mumbled Sweden. 'It is not proud. It does not- dis- dishonour others, it is not self-see...seeking.' Sweden's head jerked up. Was that what he was- self-seeking? Did he teach Finland merely for his own gain? The Bible, to him at least, was a constant mystery. It preached that love was a good feeling, and should be nurtured. And it damned those like him, those like his brothers, who loved each other more than they would ever admit, damned them to hell. 'It is not-' 'Stop.' He rose, taking the book from Finland's hands. 'I don't want you to read that anymore.' Finland stared up at him with bewildered violet eyes. Sweden forced a smile. 'You can read what you like now.' There was a pause as Finland deciphered his words. Then he beamed brightly, nodding and mumbling his thanks in broken Swedish. Denmark watched him go with a fond expression on his face.

'What was that, lillebror? Going to teach him the ways of Odin now?' Sweden said nothing. A curious burning sensation had built up inside him, focused on the little black book in his hand. I love him. It is true. And if the book forbade that love, than he would turn his back on it. He crossed the room and wedged it between two slats of wood, not quite brave enough to burn the thing. Denmark nodded. 'Good decision. I always preferred a bit of paganism.' Finland returned at that moment, perfectly on cue. He was struggling with a thick leather-bound tome, gold-edged and worn. 'I like- I want this. To read this.' That earned him another smile. Denmark laughed, swinging his legs over the side of his chair. 'Should be a good read. As far as I recall, some of the entries are in blood. Particularly yours, Sve.' For once Sweden returned his laugh, remembering. This book belonged to them- he, Norway and Denmark- and had been where they recorded every one of their journeys or battles. And indeed, some of it was done in blood. 

'Hard to get ink in the middle of a war,' muttered Sweden, just failing to suppress his smile. Finland resumed his position in front of the fire, book spread across his knees. 'December 25th,' he read fluently. 'Lon- London, England. Today ou- our- king was crowned.' 'This one's mine.' cut in Denmark. 'Gods, I miss old Cnut.' 'The North is ours. We ru- rule from the seas, from the- the-' 'Earth.' 'The earth, from a thr- throne of gold. And we will never give up our em- empi- empire.' He looked up, awed. 'When was this? When was your- kingdom?' Denmark and Sweden exchanged a look. The loss of England had been a crushing blow, not to mention the death of Norway's king in trying to reclaim it. Their invasions there were a thing of the past, reduced to petty raiding to induct new warriors. 'A long time ago,' said Sweden gently. 'Something best forgotten.' Finland screwed up his face in concentration. 'Then- then I will forget.' he stuttered. 'No. Don't forget. Read the book. That's who we were before we met you.' His smile kindled, flickered- then burst into flame, a radiance across his whole face that tied Sweden's throat in knots. 

'Thank you.' said Finland. He touched Sweden's hand. It was nothing really, the lightest brush of fingers, but to Sweden it felt as though his whole world was floating in the heavens. He watched Finland leave again, this time clutching the precious book, eyes lingering on the door long after Finland was gone. A sudden laugh jerked him from his daze. 'You're not exactly subtle, are you? It's a good thing the boy's so innocent, or he'd have got out of here as fast as he could.' That was probably the thing Sweden detested most about his brother. Denmark could be drinking and joking one moment, perfectly harmless. In the next he would display his irritating talent for finding the thing that bothered a certain person most. And in this case, he had done so for Sweden. I thought I was safe. I thought no one would know. But was he really that transparent? Did every word, every look to Finland reveal his true feelings? Perhaps Denmark was just suffering lack-of-Norway withdrawal symptoms. Either way, he had cut Sweden right to the quick. 'Going to bed.' he muttered, making for the stairs. 'Godnat, Sve, Make sure it's your own room you end up in.' The sound of Denmark's laughter haunted his dreams that night. 

Norway came back the next day, hopefully ready to put Denmark back under his control. His brothers, old and new, waited for him at the harbour. Denmark began to shout and wave the second he spotted the sails, energetic as a puppy. 'Who?' whispered Finland. Sweden resisted the urge to sweep those blond locks from his forehead. 'Norway,' he said. 'Our brother. You'll like him. He's quiet too.' Norway stepped elegantly from his boat, ever correct. He frowned at Finland. 'Who's this?' 'Our new brother. I found him a few weeks ago.' Sweden ushered Finland forward. He smiled at Norway and extended his hand, just as he had been taught. Norway shifted the bundle in his arms and took Finland's hand briefly, before turning to Denmark, who looked positively explosive with excitement. 'Nor!' he said, holding out his arms. But to all their surprises, Norway ignored him. 'We need to get inside,' he said. 'I've got something to show you.' 

They gathered around Finland's storytelling fire, Norway in a high-backed chair. He shifted his bundle, pulling away at the top. A collective gasp hissed about the room. For there, swaddled in countless layers of blankets, lay a child. His eyes were the strangest thing Sweden had ever seen, a shining purple even brighter than Finland's, ringed in indigo. He could just see tufts of white-blond hair, poking from beneath the wrappings. 'What's his name?' whispered Denmark. He appeared utterly entranced- a look Sweden had seen only once before. 'Iceland. He's Iceland.' Iceland was a colony of Norway's, previously with no human representative. There could be only one reason why one had appeared now- the little island's strength was growing, growing to an extent that it needed a channel for its power. Norway smiled- a little sadly, thought Sweden. 'He won't be so small for long. The people there- they're becoming aggressive, independent. It'll take a lot to keep him a colony forever.' 

'Can I hold him?' said Denmark, still slightly dazed. Norway shot him a fierce look. 'He's my little brother, and if you think I'd trust him to a clumsy idiot like you, then you've got less of a brain than I thought. If that's possible, of course.' 'But I can still hold him?' 'Fine.' They took turns admiring Iceland's ethereal, almost fairy-like features, sighing in unison when he let out a little yawn. 'The boldest Viking in history, felled by a small baby.' muttered Norway. Denmark, who currently had possession of Iceland, grinned broadly. 'You think I'm the boldest Viking in history?' Norway flushed. 'I never said that. Idiot.' But he was already returning Denmark's embrace. 'What are they doing?' said Finland in a small voice. Iceland had been passed to him after Norway's little slip of the tongue, and he clutched the little nation tightly. 'They- they're-' Sweden could not find the words to describe Norway and Denmark's relationship. It was a strange one, admittedly. They circled each other constantly, closing in at moments, joined by a force that linked fire and ice. 'Love. They're in love.' He blushed as he said it, the words too romantic for his tongue. 'We are not!' 'Oh, come on, Nor! That's not fair!' 

From that day on, they were five, five united by blood and more, inseparable in any combination. Finland soon became fluent in Swedish, despite his original misgivings, and quickly learnt its few differences to Danish and Norwegian. When they were alone they used Old Norse, or stumbled along in Finnish at Finland's insistence. Those days were good ones. Iceland never knew the violent childhood of his older brothers, instead growing up in various castles. He rarely voiced memories of his own land. Denmark and Norway became ever closer, no matter how much they denied it. And Sweden could only watch- watch in envy and despair, as his stern face and crippling fear alike kept him from Finland. But soon they were to be bound together closer than ever. For when a letter arrived from Denmark, away with his queen in Copenhagen, it signalled the start of a union that would make and break countless bonds.

[mazurah]

Betrayal and Reconciliation: A Morrowind Fanfic - Chapter 3

Julan wakes alone, finds two letters, and grapples with the consequences of his anger.

Or: Ma’zurah continues to get into the serious parts of the main questline.

Please note: this is not a heterosexual pairing! Ma’zurah is intersex and non-binary, even though she does use she/her pronouns. I have attempted to treat this respectfully, even when the character makes dubious decisions.

Cross posted from my Ao3. Chapter Rating: T for language.

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Betrayal and Reconciliation - Chapter 3

When Julan woke he was alone. Cursing his lack of vigilance, he hurried to gather his things only to discover a note lying atop his pack.

Ma'zurah will not stop Julan from following her, but should he speak to the Urshilaku, he should not mention Ma'zurah's assignment. Ma'zurah must be tested to be proven false, and if Julan says anything that prevents Ma'zurah from being tested Julan will never get conclusive proof. Ma'zurah wants to be proven false just as much as Julan so she can move on with her life. So Julan should keep his mouth shut.

M

Julan clenched his jaw and rummaged through his pack for some scrib jerky to ease the pangs of his rumbling stomach. Of course. What she was asking only made sense, but that didn't mean he liked it. Julan looked down. Instead of the desired food item, his hand had encountered a wad of crumpled paper, out of place outside of his sealed, waterproof scroll case. Curious, he took it out and looked at it. He vaguely remembered shoving it into his pack at the beginning of this whole ordeal. He unfolded and smoothed it.

Julan, Ma'zurah has something she needs to confess to you. She hopes that by writing a letter she can get it all out in the open at once. She hopes that this will not ruin our relationship, but she would not be surprised if you hate her.  She just asks that you please read the letter all the way through before doing anything about any of it.

Ma'zurah has told you before the story of how she was pulled out of prison and sent to Vvardenfell. There are a few things about that story that Ma'zurah was afraid to tell Julan, so she will finish the tale now.

When Ma'zurah got to Seyda Neen, one of the conditions of her release was that she deliver a coded package to a man named Caius Cosades in Balmora, and follow his orders. When Ma'zurah delivered the package, she was told she had a choice: she could go back to prison, or become one of the Emperor’s Blades. Ma'zurah could not see how that choice was any real choice, so she became a Blade.

Ma'zurah is so, so sorry for not telling you before. You have much reason to hate the Empire, and Ma’zurah understands. If Ma'zurah could quit, she would. She has more loyalty to her friends and her partner than she has to the Empire.

At first the assignments Ma'zurah got were easy information gathering missions, but ever since Ma'zurah met you and found out about your own mission, she has dreaded going back to Cosades for each next assignment.

Today Cosades finally gave Ma'zurah the details of the mission for which she had been released from prison. She was given a copy of the decoded package she had delivered to Cosades. It had orders directly from the Emperor. Ma'zurah could not believe it at first, but Cosades made it clear that if Ma'zurah does not do this thing, she will be thrown in prison again, but with treason added to her charges, and she would never be released.

But the thing that Ma'zurah was released from prison to do is completely impossible. Ma'zurah has been ordered to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies and become the Nerevarine. She was chosen to do this thing, apparently, directly by the Emperor, though how she has no idea--Ma'zurah has never even met the Emperor.

Ma'zurah has no idea what to do now. Ma'zurah does not want to do this thing, but Ma'zurah will die in prison if she does not. Ma'zurah needs to find out more information. It seems wrong of the Emperor to treat Azurah's prophecies so disrespectfully, like they are a bounty contract to fulfill for personal gain. But it occurs to Ma'zurah that if Ma'zurah is proven not to be the Nerevarine through no fault of her own, that the Blades may not put Ma'zurah back in prison, and maybe she will be free. But Ma'zurah thinks that she will probably need Julan’s help to escape this thing. Please, Julan…

Ma'zurah really values her relationship with Julan, and she hopes that Julan can forgive her for waiting so long to tell him her secrets. If there is anything Ma'zurah can do to make things better, please tell her.

Ma'zurah hopes that you will accept her most sincere apologies.

Your partner, Ma'zurah

Julan lowered the letter slowly, his mind whirling. Ma'zurah had been right; he hadn't given her a chance to speak for herself. He hadn't even listened to her whole conversation with Cosades. He had just been so angry and hurt he had thrown his telepathy ring across the room and lashed out at her.

And then she had lashed out at him in return. And that hurt.

But before that had happened, she had been prepared to confess it all to him and ask for forgiveness. He held the proof in his hands. He folded the letter gently, and put it with his map and scrolls.

Thoughtfully, Julan walked out into the cloudy grey mid-morning light. The ash storm of the previous day had wiped the ashen landscape clean save for a few sets of fresh tracks. A set of nix hound prints, and the scuffling, sliding trail of a scrib lay close to the door of the shrine.

Julan paused and noted Ma'zurah's pawprints leading to the east. At least following her wouldn't be difficult. He fished the scrib jerky out of his pack and chewed it as he followed her path.

After a little over an hour he was in sight of the Urshilaku camp. A shout of warning arose almost as soon as he saw the first yurt. A few minutes later, three riders on guar brandishing spears rode out to meet him. Julan stood still and held his hands out at his sides away from his sword, his palms downturned to indicate magickal nonaggression.

The first rider snorted at his Velothi clothing and facial features and lack of clan markings, and addressed him in Dunmeris. “You speak to Zabamund, champion and gulkhan of the Urshilaku. Who are you, and why have you come, outsider?”

Julan cleared his throat. “My name is Julan, I’ve come seeking a white Khajiit who passed through here.”

One of the gulkhan’s riders muttered something in an unfamiliar, but intelligible dialect of Velothi about an invasion of white Khajiit, but the gulkhan made a silencing motion behind him.

“Julan, outsider, we have seen two white Khajiit recently, but only one remains at the camp. You may approach the camp if you will attempt to convince her to leave.”

Julan’s eyebrows rose at this unexpected development, and he agreed. They escorted him to the center of their small circle of yurts, and presented him to a young looking Khajiiti girl in odd, revealing, but formal looking clothing. Even without confirmation from Ma'zurah, he could tell she was another moon cursed Khajiit.

Julan blinked at her. Wooden wind chimes sounded hollowly in the background. The unfamiliar Khajiit cocked her head at him and sent the gulkhan a hesitant, questioning look. Zabamund stood stoically to the side with his arms crossed.

Julan cleared his throat and decided to try some of the Ta’agra Ma'zurah had taught him. “Uh… dras’kay, trevan? You’re not who I was expecting.”

The young Khajiit looked faintly shocked at his use of the Ta’agra greeting. “Nre’fa-o? You are not… who Velvet is... expecting too.”

Her Cyrodiilic was somewhat halting, so Julan switched to Dunmeris. “I'm Julan. What are you doing here?”

“Velvet is waiting for a friend. But her friend is very late, and she is getting worried…” Her Dunmeris was much more fluent, and she looked confused, but relieved at the language switch. “Why is Julan here? He knows the other White One? Is Julan a friend of cu’Ma’zurah?”

“You know her?”

“She was kind enough to offer to help Velvet when she returns.”

“Do you know where she went?”

Velvet looked guarded. “Er… Why does the Dunmer ask? Velvet would not wish to put her new cu’nre in danger.”

Julan looked taken aback. “I'm not going to hurt her. We were, uh… friends. I think the word she used for us was… ariit?”

Velvet burst out laughing, and Julan felt his ears heat up. He wondered if the word was more explicit than he’d originally thought.

“Okay, okay! Velvet believes you! Cu’Ma’zurah told Velvet that the Urshilaku would only talk to Ma'zurah if she became a clanfriend, so they sent her to their ancestral tomb as a part of some kind of initiation rite.”

Julan looked horrified. “I… I have to go after her… the little s'wit is going to get herself killed!”

Zabamund stepped forward. “There is no point in going after her, outsider. It is a trial to be undertaken alone. Even if you did follow her, you would not be able to get past the wards without the ceremonial markings.”

“I… fuck. You’re not going to give me the markings, are you.” Julan pressed his lips together, anxiety coursing through him.

Zabamund lifted a skeptical eyebrow at him. The meaning was clear: a silent “What do you think, f’lah?”

“...I have to go after her anyway…”

Julan felt a tug on his arm. “Velvet knows where to go. Ma'zurah showed Velvet. Do you have a map?”

Zabamund rolled his eyes and stalked off. Julan got out his map, and as an afterthought, an intervention scroll as well. “Here. The Urshilaku wanted me to convince you to leave, but I don't think they’re willing to kick you out. If something happens and you get stranded, this will get you to a strider port at least.”

Velvet’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Thank you!” She pointed to a location that lay several hours south of the camp, and told Julan the landmarks Ma'zurah had relayed to her.

Julan did not waste time, and hurried to follow Ma’zurah’s trail.

Ta’agra Translations: Dras’kay, trevan = hello, friend (a formal greeting) Ariit = lovers Ta’agra Source 

Higher Singing Translations: (From the White Senches race mod by Kieve) Nre’fa-o = good dancing (used for hello and goodbye) Cu = sibling Cu’nre = friend (literally ‘heart sibling’)

Mods Directly Referenced: Julan Ashlander Companion Mod by Kateri. White Senches Race Mod by Kieve.

End Notes:

Some of the lines are paraphrases or direct quotations from the Julan Ashlander mod. I’m a fan of people taking game quotes and giving them new or more detailed context.

The NPC Velvet is from the White Senches race mod. Lore and characterization for Ma'zurah also significantly inspired by the mod. The moon curse is not actually a thing in vanilla Elder Scrolls.

I’ve only recently started writing, so constructive criticism is welcome. I also really like it if you leave me comments on my Ao3.

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