#Never mind the fact that the way my mum and aunt and cousins act about my gran it feels like I’m the only one who DOES give a shit

[yaminerua]

my mum: stopped me at every opportunity I asked to come see my dying grandpa bc ‘you don’t want to see him like this’ even tho I already had seen him and he had been happy to see me after years estranged from that side of the family and I very much wanted to fit as much time with him in as possible before it was too late and in the end she blocked me from all of it

also my mum: you never came to see your grandpa, you don’t give a shit

and now my mum yet again: won’t let me come see my gran who has been losing weight and falling and breaking bones a lot and been in and out of hospital since being on her own. Didn’t let me go talk to gran when we were both at my great aunt’s funeral last year and so I never saw her and she only found out I was there through other people who saw me. Refuses every time I ask to see my gran, including now when I’ve got presents for her

also my fucking mum right now in the same breath as refusing to allow me to come over: you never come to see your gran, you don’t give a shit

make it make fucking sense jfc

[bigskydreaming]

Brain topic du jour is reflecting on the frankly weird as fuck pattern in Dick’s life where....he barely ever experiences losses one at a time. Most of the loss he’s experienced in his life is compounded by him losing multiple people and other elements of stability all at the exact same time.

1) When his parents died, in some continuities this is coupled with him losing his extended family of his aunt and cousin as well, with his uncle left comatose and on life support for years before he eventually died as well. Even in continuities without Richard, Karla and John, the loss of Dick’s parents is compounded by the additional loss of his circus family in the sense that he was taken away from them by the state and their constant reassuring presences in his life were no longer comforts he was able to rely on.

2) When Jason died, Dick didn’t just lose his brother, as the tragedy was compounded by Bruce’s reaction. I’ll never be able to gloss over the effects of NTT #55, personally, because I think its too key to Dick’s entire characterization and the specific direction his character took in the years that followed this, to like....disregard that Bruce however unintentionally, while lost in his own grief, added to Dick’s own sense of loss for Jason in probably the worst way possible. As by kicking Dick out and telling him to leave his keys, Dick - having no way to know or guess that they’d ever reconcile, just like he never actually went back to the circus being a regular presence for him - to Dick, this was in essence the equivalent of his childhood tragedy all over again. Losing not just one family member, but his whole family in one sweep, and all the comforts and stability offered by a home he was forced to leave. Even Dick’s contact with Alfred was minimal for awhile, because why would the guy who basically JUST saw history repeat itself and was like, well I know how THIS tends to play out.....why would he think that if Alfred felt forced to actually choose between his loyalties to Bruce and Dick respectively, that Alfred would pick Dick over the man he’d known and raised from childhood himself?

3) Titans Hunt. I know I harp on this one a lot, but you can’t deny that it fits the pattern. Dick didn’t just lose one friend and teammate.....he lost Joey, he lost a good four or five lesser known Titans who nevertheless were people he viewed as directly HIS responsibility to keep safe. With these tragedies compounded by the fact that though comics played out a lot more slowburn and extended stories over years back then, like.....the aftermath of Titans Hunt was still everpresent and directly died into Dick’s reactions and emotions during the Mirage storyline and everything that happened with the failed wedding and his breakup with Kory AND the fact that he was literally forced off the team he’d basically founded, by the government agency that took over the team and appointed Roy as its leader in his stead.

3) Graduation Day. The second time the Titans disbanded it was again not due to a singular loss, because Dick didn’t just lose Donna at this point, but also Lilith died in the exact same story and though Lilith is criminally underused, like, she’s also one of Dick’s oldest friends. She was literally the first Titan to join after the original five. This then led into the Outsiders era, where Dick was shown to still be reeling from the losses of this story for an extended period of time, and in a fun parallel to the Titans Hunt aftermath, Dick was also ousted from his leadership of THIS team by essentially a vote of no confidence by his teammates (and uh, Bruce too, literally).

4) The Blockbuster arc. Where Dick’s emotional state was due to a continued string of multiple losses. He lost his apartment building and almost every one of the neighbors he’d built a community out of, as we’d been shown him actively involving himself in their lives and vice versa for YEARS before this point. Then he lost his circus, his childhood home, burned to the ground and with dozens of deaths - both spectators and actual performers Dick had known and loved as a child. Then he lost his relationship with Barbara, his sense of self-security and autonomy to Tarantula, he lost another teen vigilante who died in his colors, the mantle HE’D created, when Stephanie was believed dead in War Games, and it all culminated in losing the city he’d invested himself in as his CHOSEN home, the place he dedicated himself to protecting, when Chemo blew it up.

Oh just for the record - my nonexistent passport to the magical kingdom of Narnia for a fic that raises the point when bringing up Tim’s losses in the Red Robin era, that like.....ALL of the above happened at literally the EXACT SAME TIME as all Tim’s referenced losses occurred. Obviously Steph meant more to Tim than Dick on a personal level, but I also included her largely as an anchor point to the timeline, to show how that death, and not long after that Jack Drake’s and then Superboy’s.... occurred right smack in the middle of one of the absolute WORST periods of Dick’s life. To be clear, I don’t intend this to suggest that no actually, Dick had it harder than Tim - nah. 

No thank you. Hard pass. I hate that sort of thing even in support of my own faves over other characters. No, instead the thing I’d love to see explored more is just in light of the SPECIFIC angle fics take here - that Dick’s actions while Bruce was lost in time showed an obliviousness to everything Tim had lost lately - for literally ANYONE to bring up or introduce into the timeline here an awareness of everything Dick had lost AT THE EXACT SAME TIME PERIOD. To establish that actually, Dick didn’t just ‘not understand what it was like’ - rather, its more accurate to say that nobody in universe around this time ever shows an awareness of Dick’s own losses and says oh wait, that doesn’t track then. 

Because obviously, with this stuff put in proper perspective, Dick understands VERY VERY WELL the exact thing we’re accusing him of not understanding by being oblivious to Tim’s losses that he’s not actually oblivious to because he tries to talk to Tim about them all the time, while meanwhile its everyone else who has absolutely mum to say about the fact that Dick’s emotional state is compromised to hell and back at this point, not JUST because of losing Bruce, but also because *gestures wildly* literally ALL OF THE ABOVE in the exact same time frame Tim’s extended losses happened in.

And okay I am going to indulge in slight tiny itty bitty pettiness and point out my ire that so many fics set during this time tend to recite listicles of Tim’s losses, with Steph, Kon and Jack Drake at the very top of said list....while paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that STEPH WAS LITERALLY BACK BY THE TIME THE RED ROBIN SERIES HAPPENED. She’s LITERALLY a person Dick sends to check up on Tim after Tim turns Dick away when he tries himself. How are you gonna stress the impact Steph’s loss has on Tim when you’re not even acknowledging STEPH’S RIGHT HERE IN THE EXACT SPECIFIC CANON STORY YOU’RE CITING??? I just. afhioskhflafhlafhklfahlfa. 

And not to put too fine a point on it, but you know who ELSE was also back at the same time? CONNOR. Superboy LITERALLY was already back to life by the time the Red Robin series even began. Like, the issue where a resurrected Kon and Cassie (Wonder Girl) have a heart to heart about the fact that Tim and Cassie ‘connected’ during his absence and Connor stresses that this doesn’t bother him or make him feel negatively towards either of them at all, because hello, he was literally dead at the time, why would he mind that two of the people he loves most in the world sought comfort in each other? Yeah, that issue? Literally came out BEFORE Tim even became Red Robin.

I MEAN. I’m just saying, when people constantly take shots at Dick’s choices during this period because of how much Tim had lost before Bruce already, in order to shift focus away from the fact that Dick lost Bruce every bit as much as Tim did......and you repeatedly emphasize the SAME three names as the focal point of Tim’s losses while paying no acknowledgment whatsoever to everything Dick lost at the exact same time Tim lost these three.....it quickly becomes kiiiiiiinda relevant in my opinion THAT TWO OF THE THREE NAMES CONSTANTLY MENTIONED AS BEING TIM’S LOSSES ARE NO LONGER EVEN LOST BY THE TIME THE SUBJECT COMES UP. Again, I’m just saying! Pettily, mind you! I am aware of the pettiness, I just beg awareness of like *again gesticulates wildly at all of the above* ALL THAT!

LOL.

But I digress.

5) When Bruce was believed dead while he was lost in the timestream. Again, Dick didn’t just lose the father who had been the only parent in his life for almost TWICE as long as his first parents......this was coupled with the loss of numerous other sources of stability in Dick’s life. There’s the matter of his personal sense of identity and self-expression....Dick FOUGHT against becoming Batman, trying to handle Gotham in Bruce’s absence as Nightwing for as long as he could, because he knew being Batman was very much NOT going to be good for him. He put so much of himself into building his identity as Nightwing, establishing himself in that role, that self-image, that yes, I maintain it was an actual LOSS for Dick, to feel like he had no choice but to give that up and everything it meant to him and his own life, in order to essentially live Bruce’s life for him in his absence. 

Because it wasn’t just being Batman that Dick was struggling with at this time....he also had to act as the patriarch to the Wayne family, essentially raise Bruce’s ten year old son, step into Bruce’s old role in Wayne Enterprises, all while getting no acknowledgment for any of this, for literally LIVING his father’s life instead of the life Dick had worked so hard to build for HIMSELF....because of course Dick’s actions and struggles couldn’t even be advertised beyond the family and close friends, because the whole point of him doing all this was so that nobody else even realized that Bruce wasn’t really there anymore. Dick didn’t just assume Bruce’s responsibilities. Dick assumed Bruce’s life, so thoroughly that most people didn’t even put together that Bruce was ‘dead,’ between Dick handling Bruce’s actual roles and responsibilities while Hush made public appearances as him. 

Like, when you’re living someone else’s life so completely that nobody can tell they’re even gone....how on earth does that leave any time or space for you to have ANY kind of life of your OWN, y’know? Not to mention the fact that like in so many times previously....all this meant that Dick couldn’t even afford to let his grief for his own losses show, because he wasn’t supposed to be grieving any losses in the first place, that was the whole point of the con!

Additionally, couple this with the fact that throughout this time period, Dick didn’t have Tim to lean on at all, because it was never that Dick kicked Tim out or neglected him or didn’t care....he’d actively stressed how much he needed Tim, because the partner Tim was convinced Dick chose ‘over’ him - Dick was the first one to admit back then that he DIDN’T trust Damian yet, couldn’t afford to, because he was all too aware that Damian didn’t give a fuck about him yet and couldn’t be guaranteed to step in to have Dick’s back - because that required mutual trust that Dick literally just hadn’t had time to build yet. And add to THAT the fact that during this time, Jason was actively antagonizing the family and Dick in particular at every turn, trying to bring them all down and basically write over what all of them saw as Bruce’s legacy with Jason’s own version of what he thought that should look like.

Also also, take into account that unlike how often we see fanon depict Dick as just too stubborn or proud to ask for help, there’s the fact that he actually had very few avenues TO ask for help! As already established, he DID ask Tim for help. Not like Jason was an option at this time, and Dick’s friends weren’t actually just sitting waiting in the wings and groaning about the fact that Dick was trying to do all of this solo....nah, they kinda had their own problems, which Dick was all too aware of?

Like the fact that in the wake of Final Crisis, it wasn’t just Bruce that was believed lost. Many other key Leaguers like Martian Manhunter were dead or lost, with others struggling to fill the gaps left in their absence. Cry For Justice happened right after Final Crisis too....that story where Lian was murdered? So it wasn’t like Dick was remotely going to try leaning on Roy when Roy had just lost his freaking DAUGHTER and very much wasn’t handling it well (and not to overshadow Roy’s loss at ALL, but please let’s not act like Dick - who had literally been the person to put a baby Lian in Roy’s arms for the first time and had known that girl for pretty much her entire life - like, it shouldn’t be used to detract from Roy’s loss at all, but it shouldn’t have to, to just acknowledge that Lian’s loss right at this exact time was painful as fuck to Dick, who’d loved his niece like crazy.)

The pattern of compounding, concurrent losses in Dick’s life. I’m just saying. Its there.

And it extends into the New 52 as well, where Forever Evil came right on the heels of Dick losing his circus in THIS continuity to the Joker, just as a way to hurt him in Death of A Family. And with the aftermath of Forever Evil and Dick’s own literal death, being like....the complete loss of Dick’s entire life, even though he was revived quickly. That didn’t mean he got to live HIS life though, since Dick Grayson was believed dead and he was told had to remain so, so its like fuck whatever he actually wanted to do as he went about on the Spyral mission aka something that pinched his own sense of morality and personal agenda at every turn and was kinda the last thing a therapist would recommend for a trauma recovery period, lol. And like, for all the focus that was paid to how Dick’s family were hurt because they believed they’d lost him when he was actually alive, let’s not forget that for all intents and purposes, Dick DID lose his family in the wake of his resurrection because he was flat out told over and over that due to what ‘he’d LET happen to him’ he was an ACTIVE danger to them, and thus wasn’t allowed by Bruce to contact any of them or lean on them to any degree, until Bruce got amnesia and stopped blocking Dick’s pleas to return home by just not being there to pick up the secret phone line at all. 

(And omg, the obliviousness that just EMANATES off the hot takes that Dick had a ‘choice’ in all this and he still CHOSE to do what Bruce told him....like. LOLOL, stop being pissy about me bringing up the term abuse apologism when its literal victim blaming to paint the guy who had to be beaten into ‘agreeing’ to the Spyral mission in the immediate wake of the trauma of DYING, all while his father vocally blamed him for his own suffering and the ‘threat’ he now posed to his family, keying directly into the guilt complex Bruce knows damn well is at the core of most of Dick’s motivations.....fucking please. There’s no choice in all that. That’s active emotional, mental and physical abuse aimed at directly manipulating Dick’s actions, delivered by the guy who knows Dick best in the world and whose approval - particularly when Dick is at absolute rock bottom aka Current Location - matters more to Dick than just about anything because his sense of self-worth has more in common with dog shit than actual dog shit does. Or something. Idk. That analogy got away from me. But like. You get it.)

BUT. I. DIE. GRESS. (I guess).

Aaaaaaanyway, so yeah! That repeating pattern throughout Dick’s life of ‘loss? What loss (singular)? My losses only come in groups, lolol, fuuuuuun’ - mmmm. Yeah. So that’s what’s on MY brain right now. Thoughts?

[hb-writes]

A Little Reflection

1923 

Clara was seething as she looked down at her company diary. She groaned aloud at the appointment scratched down there under today’s date. Polly’s tight script wrote out two simple directives: Church - 4 o ‘clock 

She glanced at the clock. It was already quarter ‘til and it was a twenty-minute walk, but Clara still hadn’t decided whether she was going to pull herself from the solace of the office to sit through what was sure to be a lecture. She had already sat through a full day of school so she wasn’t keen to receive any further lengthy speeches. 

In the end, it was Michael who got Clara up and out, offering to walk her as far as the edge of Digbeth since he also had a meeting that way, but she wasn’t eager for his company. Clara thought it might be her cousin’s fault that she was being summoned to the church, but she didn’t want to risk two lectures in the span of one afternoon, and potentially another from Tommy when he and Grace made it home from New York, so it was without much of a fight that Clara shrugged into her coat and marched alongside her cousin in something close to silence. 

The heels of Clara’s boots announced her arrival in the church, bringing a bit of unwanted attention to her lateness as she strolled down the center aisle. Polly was already settled in a pew, her eyes drawn closed, her mind seemingly lost in some silent vigil. 

“I saved you a seat,” Polly said, her words quiet but clear. The woman’s eyes remained closed as Clara glanced around the empty church, snorting a bit at her aunt’s dry wit. 

Clara slipped in beside her aunt and Polly opened her eyes, quiet as she waited for the girl to settle. 

“Has your cousin spoken with you?” 

“Well, just like the rest of them, your son speaks at me all the while, so I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific."

Since they'd had some friends to Polly's Sutton Coldfield house over the weekend while she was visiting Ada, Clara guessed it had to do with that. She couldn't imagine anything else would require her being hauled down to the church on a Tuesday afternoon, but Clara had no plans to offer up that information.

"Have you forgotten you're speaking to Aunt Polly and not your brother?"

Clara glanced at her aunt. "So, we’re here for a lecture, then?”

“We’re here for a little reflection,” Polly answered. “Seems you need it.”

Clara didn’t understand her aunt’s insistence on reflecting from the pew of a church. Clara did plenty of reflection on her own, twisting and turning over every little thought until she’d assessed just about every realistic possibility, and a few unrealistic ones as well. She certainly didn’t need a church to do it. Clara had no trouble getting lost in reflection—not at school or in bed late at night or while out for a little walk.

And if the draw of reflection at church was presence of God, Clara didn’t agree with that either. If there was a God, and Clara thought that might be quite a significant if, she couldn’t imagine they only existed within the four walls of a church. 

"So, a confession, you mean?" Clara said. She knew that's what her aunt was truly after. Polly wanted Clara to tell her a bit of truth about something. The reflection would come later, like when she wasn’t allowed any fun for the rest of the week. "Why aren't you dragging the boys in for confession as well?"

Polly nodded towards the door. "Your brother just left."

Of course, she would start with Finn. He had the loosest lips of the three of them and was by far the easiest to pull a confession from.

"That little—" Clara started.

"Don't go bad-mouthing your brother. He tried to tell me you weren't even there,” Polly said. “He’s loyal to you to a fault, that boy.” 

Polly’s words forced a brief smile from Clara. She and Finn had their fighting moments, but he was exactly what Polly had said, loyal to his twin sister to a fault. 

"So, it was Michael, then, I suppose?" Clara said, straightening the already straightened gloves that sat in her lap. "Well, whatever he's told you, I can assure you he's lying."

"About what?" Polly said, her sharp words quickly following Clara’s.

Clara hummed, the sound she made acting as a question.

“What is it Michael’s lied to me about?”

"Oh, um, about…" Clara cleared her throat. "Well, about whatever it is he's told you."

Polly stared at her niece with an eyebrow raised, a nearly amused smile on her face.

"About…about the whiskey?" Clara offered into the quiet between them.

"And what might Michael have told me about the whiskey?"

"That I had a very small amount of your whiskey?" Clara held up two fingers to demonstrate the amount.

"Well, your cousin didn't mention any whiskey," Polly said, "but he did mention a get together and a broken—"

Clara’s reaction took over her whole body, a bit of poorly-veiled shock coming to her face as she slid her now rigid body down the pew to put a measure of distance between herself and her aunt. "I didn't—" 

Polly cleared her throat. "A broken vase," she said, her voice a bit raised, "which Michael has taken full responsibility for. Already purchased a replacement from his wages and insisted it was an accident. Now I suppose that's what Michael must be lying about?"

Clara sucked in her bottom lip and began idly chewing as she contemplated her response. Michael was lying about that. It was Clara and Finn who broke the vase, or Clara supposed it was technically Finn’s arm which hit the vase and sent it crashing to the floor, but Clara had shoved him just before. 

Polly never should have known any of that though. They’d cleaned it up and agreed not to speak of it again. Polly didn’t care about all the little trinkets. They’d rearranged the shelf and assumed it wouldn’t come up, and if it did, it would be so far in the future they’d all be safe enough from any true retribution.

"Well, um, actually—"

"He said to me, 'Mum, don't be cross with Finn and Clara. It was my fault. They had nothing to do with it’."

Clara nodded her head a few times. "Well, good. It’s good Michael decided to come clean. Sounds like we're all squared up, then, eh?" Clara made to stand up but Polly caught her arm, the gentle application of Polly's fingers enough to stop Clara. Without a word, she lowered and once again settled back against the pew.

"So, you think he's told me the truth then?" Polly asked, her tone a bit softer than it had been up until now. 

Polly knew Michael had lied to her about the vase. It wasn’t the first thing Clara and Finn had their hands in breaking. And the twins always tried to hide their mishaps rather than just coming clean. And despite knowing better, they always assumed they could simply clean up and rearrange some things without Polly noticing.

Clara nodded. "Well, I believe so. If Michael says he's done it and he's paid for a new one, then—"

"Well, he also said that you let someone out of your room at four in the morning, so what was that one truth as well? Or a lie, do you think?"

Clara gulped, her throat and mouth suddenly going scratchy and dry. She thought about calling her cousin’s words a lie, not bothering to elaborate on the fact that the only part of it that was untrue was the time. She'd let someone out of her room at half-past three in the morning, not at four.

"And before you answer, remember who it is you're speaking to."

"Aunt Polly, it's really not what it sounds like."

"Well, I certainly hope not because it sounds like you were drunk on whiskey with a boy in your room."

Clara didn't answer and Polly turned towards her. "Am I meant to take that silence as confirmation that this was exactly what it sounds like?"

"No, not exactly," Clara answered. "There was a boy," Clara shifted in her seat. "And there was a very insignificantly small amount of whiskey. And they were both in my room, but it wasn't like that."

"Who?" Polly asked.

"What?"

"Tell me the boy's name."

"No."

"No?"

"Why would I? So you can tell my brothers and they can threaten to cut whoever it is. And anyway, I'm sure Michael's already—"

"Michael didn't see who it was, only heard the click of the door and you whispering out in the hall."

Clara was regretting her claim of the bedroom beside her cousin's. It had a nice view of the garden and she had fallen in love with it before Michael rejoined the family, but it was becoming more trouble than it was worth.

"Well, good," Clara said. "It's not particularly important who it was. All that's important is that nothing's happened, nothing like you're thinking anyway. It's not like that."

Polly gave Clara a long look as she determined whether or not the girl was telling the truth.

"You’re lucky it was your cousin who heard you and not one of your brothers, lucky he came to me instead of them with this nonsense."

"If I was lucky, he would have just kept his fu—" Polly shot her a look and Clara shut her mouth. "And it's not nonsense. It's—"

"Love?" Polly said, cutting Clara off before she could even begin. "We all think it’s love at your age, sweetheart. The feeling will pass and you’ll be grateful you didn’t waste your time.”

"I never said anything about lo—"

"There will be plenty of time for boys," Polly said, "when you're a little older. You’ll settle down with a nice—"

"A nice boy my brothers choose for me?” Clara laughed. “I think I'll take my chances and just do as I please instead."

“You will not,” Polly answered, the sharpness of her tone startling Clara a bit. “You’ll listen to your brothers and your cousin and to me because it’s not only your safety we’re concerned about here, now is it?”

“My safety’s not even—”

“It is a concern. There’s things... business you don’t know about and your safety is always a concern. And when those boys are concerned about your safety, they're not thinking of their own. When they’re thinking about whether you’re off somewhere you’re not meant to be or making friends with someone you’re not meant to be making friends with, their heads are with you. So, you tell me who you were with and let me decide whether or not it’s a concern."

Clara considered her aunt’s words and knew they were at least a bit true. It was why they all liked her to be tucked away safe when Blinder business was afoot. Knowing she wasn’t at risk freed up a bit of space in their heads and allowed them to focus. Clara took a deep breath. "It was just Isiah."

"Just Isiah?"

"Just Isiah," Clara repeated. "We were just talking and we fell asleep. I swear."

Polly barely took a second to study her niece and determine the authenticity of the statement. It was the plain truth and Polly knew it. “I thought you and Isiah weren’t on speaking terms?”

Clara shrugged. “We are now.”

Polly nodded. "Well, I believe you were both told several years ago that you’re much too old for sleepovers, even if he is just Isiah." Polly stood up, pulling on her gloves as she stepped past Clara. “And this best be the last I hear you’ve been in the whiskey, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clara muttered.

“And Clara?”

Clara glanced up at her aunt who was now standing a few pews away.

“Don’t think I don’t know it was you and Finn who broke the vase.” 

Clara bit her lip. “But Michael—”

“Is another boy in this family who’s loyal to you to a fault,” Polly answered. “He only came to me because he was concerned about you.” Polly watched Clara working through her words. “More concerned about his cousin than what his mum would do to him over a party and a broken vase.” 

Polly waited for Clara’s acknowledgment and then turned and walked away, her heels clicking as she made her way down the center aisle.

Clara stayed in the empty church, settling in for a bit of reflection.

[katherinewilliams221b]

A Very Walsh Christmas

Part 3/3

Summary: Charlie and Kate spend the day before Christmas at Kate’s grandfather’s house.  Set in 1995 but I apologise if there’s some inaccuracies (Don’t think so but…)

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc

You technically could read this as a one shot but you maybe miss out some things.

[Part 1] - [Part 2]

The day after the evening with the Walsh family, I woke up with a pleasant feeling in my body; the dim light coming in through the window, the warmth of the sheets and a sleeping Kate next to me made the world peaceful for a moment.

I did not recognise the room immediately, it took me several blinks to adjust my memories.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, concentrating on my breathing, and I smiled to myself remembering the Muggle story my father used to read to us. Or was it a song?

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Not quite, I thought. The door was closed, but I have no qualms about boasting that my hearing was good enough to hear some faint music.

I got up very carefully, trying not to wake her up, although I started to shake so violently that I was afraid that the chattering of my teeth would ruin everything.

I immediately put on the jumper I had brought with me, and for the moment it was enough.

I heard a sound of sheets and turned to see Kate looking for me with one hand in her dreams. I couldn’t help smiling, and selfishly thought of coming closer and having her find me, but the day ahead would require at least one more hour of sleep for her.

I realised too late that I left the room in my pyjamas and contemplated my options; Kate’s parents had already left, and they were the ones who worried me the most, so without further thought I followed the Christmas music downstairs.

The dining room table had plates and spoons, it was almost ready for breakfast and only with that detail I understood Bernard’s need to keep us in his house as long as possible. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go to Grimmauld Place.

A piano version of Gloria In Excelsis Deo came out of a record player in the dining room. I wondered why Mr Walsh hadn’t turned on the machine with the smaller discs, since he seemed so happy with it, so much so he convinced Kate to buy one. I didn’t think it was a bad idea, but we wouldn’t get anything from the Weird Sisters in a Muggle shop.

I found Bernard serving tea in a single cup. Although the slippers I was wearing were very quiet, he turned to see who was entering the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie.” He commented with a small smile and continued to serve tea, “Katie told me you were an early bird.”

“Good morning, and Merry Christmas to you too. What time is it?” I sighed with relief when I saw the striped pyjamas he was wearing.

“It’ll be seven in a while. You can sleep a little longer if you like, Cornelia and her husband are still asleep...”

“Oh, no, I like this time of the day. Everything is silent, and the world seems to be in its place.” I laughed, “That’s what Kate says, but at three in the morning.” Bernard huffed a laugh and gave me a tray with glasses to take to the table.

“I’m with you on this. Things have to be done when there’s light. Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Together we sat at the table while the song changed to a slow version of Oh Christmas Tree.

“How do you celebrate Christmas at home, son?”

Every Christmas at home went through my mind like a movie, all different and special in its own way.

“Well, they got more complicated with each new sibling.” We both laughed, and the complicity in his eyes for understanding me reached my heart. “There’s always a big banquet, Mom cooks for a battalion... but between you and me: there’s never much food left.”

He smiled, but I saw something strange in his eyes. He looked down, but I decided not to ask questions about it, I was afraid to remove delicate feelings. “This is the first year I’ve seen them at Christmas since I left for Romania,” I continued, but he interrupted me.

“Don’t tell me that! That can’t be, no.” He raised an accusing finger and pointed it at me to scold me like when Mum did it when I was a child. “Let me tell you something: some people don’t like Christmas. They don’t want to give presents, or have to prepare food, or see those pesky cousins,” he put his hand on my wrist and with a calmer tone he continued, “but the family, the family, Charlie, has to be taken care of and the perfect excuse is this season.”

He tapped my hand and nodded sharply, ending his speech. I sighed, knowing that he was right, but a dark part of me had enjoyed the holidays on my own in the reserve tent and the first Christmas alone with Kate.

I adored my family, of course, but I could not deny that particular and inexplicable fullness of those years.

“After this year, who knows if we will be able to get together again.” I took the cup to my mouth, the liquid comforted my throat but not so much that the words kept coming out.

“I know something is happening. The atmosphere in the chess club has changed, there are men working in the ministry, you know? And last night...”

I looked up, but I bit my tongue. It would be better if Kate explained everything when we got to Grimmauld Place.

“It’s a bit long to explain. When we’re in a safe place, you’ll know everything.”

Or not. In saying this, it occurred to me that perhaps Kate would not want to involve her grandfather in what the Order and Dumbledore were up to, yet she agreed when I proposed that he accompany us to Sirius’ house.

The record had stopped spinning as we spoke, allowing us to hear voices coming down the stairs. Kate’s uncle, Secondo, and her aunt, Cornelia, joined us in the dining room.

“Dad! Merry Christmas!” Cornelia threw herself into Bernard’s arms and he caught her in a warm embrace. I couldn’t wait to hug my father like that.

“Merry Christmas, A stóirín.” He chuckled, “I’ll start preparing breakfast.”

Cornelia wished me a Merry Christmas with a kiss on the cheek and went to the kitchen with Bernard. Secondo patted my shoulder and went after them.

“We’ll prepare everything and I’m sure Kate won’t be able to resist the smell of coffee.” Bernard announced.

Together we started to take out cups and plates, we went around carrying tea, biscuits, coffee cups, milk, toast... at some point Bernard turned the record around, playing The Holly and The Ivy. The domesticity of the moment relaxed me, and although I had been with Kate for many years, it was only at that moment that I began to be part of the family.

It was a strange situation, no doubt, that made me contemplate how Kate put down roots in our home, how mum and dad and all my brothers adopted her immediately, long before we became a couple and, I dare say, before we became friends. Bill had been the first to meet her and obviously spoke of her with great esteem and admiration, despite the fact that we were only children. Mum already adored her and had never even seen her.

I understood at that moment, with a jar of jam in my hand and with some slippers on that were not mine, that this was what she had lacked during her life and that she found behind the doors of the Burrow.

I prayed to some Muggle god I didn’t believe in so she could make up for lost time with her grandfather.

With the first notes of Sans Day Carol, Kate appeared through the kitchen door dishevelled and with her eyes almost closed, but with a big smile that made me breathe deeply.

Congratulations and hugs began immediately, followed by frantic and chaotic conversations of which I could only discern a few words. I didn’t mind staying out of the family moment, I just enjoyed watching Kate trying to act like a human being before breakfast.

When she came to me, I couldn’t resist planting a kiss in the square on her mouth; she accepted it in surprise and a laugh escaped on the way. She asked me with an eyebrow, but I only shook my head.

“Don’t move.” She listened to me (have someone write down the date on the calendar), and when she saw a finger approaching her face, she closed her eyes.

I carefully pulled out the sleepy dust that was stuck to her tear duct and she smiled at me in gratitude. I left her free, and she trotted to the table to proceed with her breakfast.

“We must leave in a while,” announced Cornelia, “Secondo’s parents are waiting for us.”

“Of course, of course...” agreed Bernard, but I noticed the sadness in his words. Home For The Holidays just added more melancholy to the moment, and I looked at the record player as if the object could understand what I was asking for.

It made a strange noise that startled me; I hadn’t done that. Do You Hear What I Hear replaced the previous tune. I looked at Kate, who already had her eyes on me, and she blinked very slowly behind the cup she had taken to her mouth.

Although I already knew this, every time something like this happened I was overcome with a deep admiration for being able to speak without words. I agreed with Ginny internally, for being the first to point it out.

If anyone at the table observed the exchange, no one made any comments about it.

 After Kate’s aunt and uncle left, she, Bernard and I were left alone in the house.

“Is there anything you’d like to do today, Grandpa?” Kate asked after drying the last of the dishes.

Bernard took the pick out of the record player and turned his back on us while he put the vinyl away.

“I have some errands...”

“All right, we’ll go with you...”

“No, no, why don’t you go directly to that mysterious place of yours and I will join you later?”

“You don’t even know where it is, Grandpa.”

He remained sullen as he brushed the crumbs off the tablecloth with a kind of brush that I had never seen before.

“Do you want to go and see Grandma?” Kate suggested.

“Yes, but it’s unnecessary to go all together, really, it’s something very quick that...”

“I feel like it too.” She interrupted before addressing me, “Charlie, could you take our things to the house? I’ll accompany my grandfather to the cemetery.”

I nodded, this would give me time to explain to Mom that we would have one more guest.

“I’ll stop by the hospital first.”

 “Really, you don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to!” She gave him a half hug, and a shy smile appeared under his moustache.

“It’s decided. See you in Gr...” Kate’s withering gaze silenced me and I raised my hands to declare my innocence.

“Let’s get our stuff together.”

From the cupboard under the stairs we took out the bags we had brought for my family. I was a little embarrassed to have gifts as simple as socks or candy, but it was what I could afford to have gifts for everyone.

“And if I’m not there, whose arm are you going to hold on to when you get dizzy from apparating?” I teased her when I handed her her coat.

“Very funny, my knight errant, but I can manage on my own.” The huff of false indignation blew a little curl from her forehead that had fallen when she bent over, and I had to laugh at her attitude.

“Remember that St Mungo’s is crowded at Christmas. If they make you wait too long to see your father, find Madame Louise and tell her I sent you.”

I nodded, memorising the name, and after checking the cupboard, we left all the things by the door and went upstairs to get dressed.

 --

Either someone had lied to me or my father had vanished because no one knew where to find him.

With a thousand bags in each hand, I left St Mungo’s and walked into an alley.

It had taken us quite a while to leave the Walsh house, so I showed up at Grimmauld Place, hoping that Mum had taken him out of the hospital.

Pulling out my wand was quite a feat and opening the door was even more difficult, but in the end I managed to get in.

The painting of Sirius’ mother almost tore my ears with its rales and I had to throw away all the things I had in my hand to be able to cover the bloody woman with a bed sheet.

“But what is this scandal? Fred, George! What are you doing? Charlie, darling...” Mum appeared wiping her hands on her apron and when she saw me she rushed to receive me with open arms. “Oh, but what joy you have given me, son. But where is Kate, I thought she would come?”

“She’s with her grandfather now, she’ll come later.”

“Well, she’ll have a plate of food when she comes...” With a grip stronger than one would expect for a woman of her size, she dragged me through the corridor.

“I’ve invited her grandfather, Bernard, to join us, is that okay?”

“But of course, darling! I’m delighted to meet someone from her family. That girl is so reserved... Ginny, love, look who I’ve found!”

“Mom, there’s something I wanted to ask you...” As if a cannonball had hit me, my sister threw herself at me with all the strength she had.

“Charlie! I thought you weren’t coming!”

I caught her in the air and anchored her so she wouldn’t fall. At that moment I heard a couple of ‘pop’ sounds behind my back and two identical redheads surrounded me.

“Oh! The favourite brother has arrived!”

“It’s actually Bill, but since he’s not here, we’ll settle for you.” Fred and George hung on to my arms and my knees almost dropped me.

“Thanks a lot, boys, I love you too.”

 “Let my poor boy breathe, we have no spare.” I blew Ginny’s hair out of my face as best I could, and over her shoulder I saw Dad leaning against the door. My heart turned over when I saw him in that state, but the relief I felt was greater than the fear of what almost happened to him.

I tried hard not to think about it, and after kissing Ginny on the forehead, I took her off my torso so I could say hello to him.

I tried not to press too hard on the hug, and I noticed that he was grateful. I felt a few taps on my shoulder and found Ron waiting to greet me.

I didn’t hold back from him; in this case, I held him as long as I could until he felt embarrassed or suffocated, whichever came first.

It was the embarrassment, of course, but I couldn’t care less.

I saw Sirius Black sitting in the kitchen and went over to squeeze his hand cordially and wish him a merry Christmas. He turned out to be a nice bloke, against all odds, and I made a mental note to thank him for what he was doing for the Order.

Ron’s friend, Hermione, came to the door and greeted me after whispering something in his ear. I returned the greeting and saw them marching up the stairs.

“They’re going to be with Harry, the poor angel’s having a hard time lately.” Mum explained. “He hardly says a word.”

Dad sat down on one of the chairs around the table and I put a hand on his shoulder. He patted it before drinking from his cup.

“Isn’t Kate with you?” I was surprised that it was Sirius who asked, but I shook my head with a question in my eyes. “Dumbledore has asked me to deliver a letter to her.”

“Hey, Charles, did you bring us any presents?” George asked.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Mum said. I just laughed and pointed to the front door where I had thrown all the bags. They both stampeded out in that direction.

“I’ll take the one I like best!” announced Fred. My father and I laughed, and I sat down next to him for a chat.

--

 Kate and Bernard didn’t show up until long after the meal. I looked for something in their expression that would tell me what had taken them so long, but I saved the questions for another time.

“Have you eaten anything?” I asked her as I hung up her coat.

“Yes, I’m sorry. We talked a lot and walked around. We ate in the street. And your father?”

“He’s here! They brought him from the hospital this morning.” I could not contain my enthusiasm when I revealed that the family was almost complete. I was saddened by the situation with Percy I felt like giving him a hug too.

“Another thing: Sirius has something from Dumbledore for you.” The surprise on her face was understandable.

“Do you have any idea what it is?”

“A letter. I don’t know more.”

Bernard came up to us and I reached out my hand for his scarf and hat.

“I think we need to make introductions, don’t you?”

“Yes, come on, my mother is looking forward to meeting you.”

My parents were delighted with Bernard Walsh, and George and Fred soon became friends with him; Kate’s grandfather matched the mischief of the twins and quickly made his way into the family.

When he was in good company, I left the kitchen to look for Kate, but I ran into Ginny in the hallway.

“You should talk to her, she seems worried.” She pointed to the stairs and went into the kitchen with the rest.

Upstairs I found Ron and Hermione on the landing, knocking on one of the doors where Harry Potter was probably hiding.

To my right, I saw part of Kate’s green dress on the other side of an ajar door. I met her and closed the door behind me.

“Read this.” She handed me a scroll, and I recognised Professor Dumbledore’s fancy calligraphy. I scanned the document and raised my eyebrows.

“Durmstrang?”

Kate mouthed a ‘yup’ and sat on a purple divan next to a really ugly lamp.

“A mission of the Order in a school. Can you believe it?”

I read the letter again, frantically searching for the date of departure, and I felt like collapsing when I saw that it was sooner than I would have liked.

“In less than two weeks! For how long?” She looked at her hands, afraid to tell me. I read the paper again and at the end of it all was the unfortunate word: ‘indefinitely’.

“You’d better get that thing sorted out as quickly as possible.” That was the only thing I could think of to say.

I sat down next to her and put a hand on her knee. She covered it with hers immediately and put the other hand around my arm, leaving me anchored to her leg.

We stayed like this for a while in silence until I suddenly stood up and extended my hand to her.

“Come on. Now is not the time.” She agreed, and we followed the voices, not to the kitchen but to a small living room.

Everyone was crowded around a table where two people were sitting. We approached Hermione, who was watching cross-armed from the door.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Harry doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” She commented, raising her shoulder.

“I meant, what’s going on here?”

“Ron has decided to play chess with your grandfather, Kate.”

Her eyes widened, and she let go of my hand to join the group. I followed happily because something had managed to distract us.

Bernard and Ron looked at the board in silence, each one concentrating on their own strategy. I must admit that I’m not a bad player, but until now I didn’t know anyone who had beaten Ron, Harry perhaps.

However, Kate had told me that her grandfather was a fierce and ruthless player so I would not have bet my galleons on Ron.

My brother shook his head and toppled his queen, declaring his defeat.

“You beat me in three.” He stated.

Bernard smiled, and his eyes shone behind his glasses. He extended his hand to Ron, and he shook it, sealing the game. Bernard raised his index finger before moving one of my brother’s pawns to another square.

“Can’t you see? You could have blocked the knight.”

Ron put his hand to his head and let out a shy laugh before nodding.

“You’ve got talent, kid. You play better than some lads from the Club.”

“Oh, this was wonderful!” exclaimed Mom. “I didn’t understand a thing.”

“Another one?” Ron proposed and Bernard nodded. With a twist of the hand, the pieces flew across the board to opposite sides. Now Ron would play with white.

I left Kate and the others in the room watching the game, except for Dad, who came out into the hall with me.

“We forgot! We have presents for you too!” I hugged him by the shoulders and we went into the kitchen. “Somebody’s going to have to explain to that nice gentleman why we’re here.” He whispered.

“Kate may have already done that. Now let’s enjoy what’s left of Christmas and that you’re here with us.”

“Son, I couldn’t agree more.”

-

A/N It wasnt very christmas-y but it felt right writing all of that.

[theprodigypenguin]

You know, I have this idea (in a Remus and Tonks live au) that Teddy may be afraid to come out to Remus. Like he knows his father is really chill and loves him to the moon and back (no pun intended) but he still is a bit scared. Like he has told his mum ages ago but still struggles with Remus. And now I want to know what would your take be in a similar situation? My excuse is that I just love your Teddy and your headcanons.

Hope this is what you had in mind anon dear:

word count: 3.8k

CW: internalized biphobia & biphobia

Teddy didn’t think it was possible to have gotten better parents. The ones he had were more than enough, and he considered himself extremely lucky. After all, there were plenty of kids around who didn’t have parents at all; like his Uncle Harry and Professor Longbottom. Teddy had both his mum and dad, and he often acknowledged the fact he could have lost them both during the Battle of Hogwarts.

George was the one who told him, when he was still rather young. “Your dad showed up to the battle first. I was surprised because they’d just had you, and no one would’ve blamed him for staying home. He’s a Gryffindor though, and he wanted to fight. It’s no wonder. Your mum showed up a little later, insisting you’d be fine. You were just a tiny thing. I’d only seen pictures of you by then, but you were days old and she was raring for a fight. She didn’t want your old man to be alone, but it always seemed off to me. I mean, one spell just inches closer could have killed them both.”

The concept of his parents being dead had brought him to tears, and Remus had gathered him up while Tonks scolded George, who looked sheepishly innocent.

Teddy knew he was lucky, and as he got older he tried hard not to take advantage of it.

His parents were wonderful. There were a few times when his father would get irritable and  little difficult to deal with, around the full moon, but Teddy had adapted to those times. He tried to be extra helpful around the house because he knew Remus was tired, and it genuinely seemed to help the older man. Other times, when Remus wasn’t dealing with his transformations, he was an attentive and loving father who doted on Teddy.

Tonks said it often, everyone did in fact, that Teddy was so his father’s son. They were attached at the hip since Teddy was born. Tonks used to fake hurt feelings when little Teddy would toddle over to Remus instead of her, but she didn’t seem to actually mind much. That wasn’t to say Teddy loved his father more than he loved his mother, because he loved them both to the moon and back. It was just that Tonks worked at the Ministry as an Auror, and Remus had been acting as a stay-at-home parent since the end of the war.

For a few years that was all he did, stay home and raise Teddy while Tonks worked, until Teddy was five years old and Headmistress McGonagoll offered Remus a job at Hogwarts. After that Teddy found himself traveling to the school with his now Professor father. He was excited to go to work with his father, even though he didn’t really know what was going on. All he understood was he got to be with Remus, and in his mind there was nothing better.

He got to go to work with Tonks sometimes too, of course, and he loved zipping around the Ministry and causing mayhem, seeking out the Minister to take a nap on the trailing tails of his robes while he shooed away the people who tried to remove the toddler. There was just something different about going to Hogwarts with Remus, though. Teddy loved it there.

Mostly Teddy loved being with his father. His grandparents babysat of course, so did his Uncle Harry and Uncle Bill (occasionally Uncle Charlie, but only if he had supervision), but he preferred being with his parents.

Tonks said it was a good thing that Teddy bonded so deeply with his father. She said Remus needed it. Teddy didn’t know what that meant, but he was always up for hugging his dad when Tonks crouched to his level to whisper “papa needs a Teddy-bear hug”. Teddy grew up with the belief and bravery that he could tell his father literally everything. When he had scary dreams, when he didn’t like the cooking, when he thought a rock looked super cool. He strived to make his parents smile, make them proud, because he was proud to be their son, but more than anything else he wanted Remus to be proud.

That was normal, wasn’t it? For sons to crave their father’s pride and attention? That was completely normal.

Maybe that was why Teddy felt such crushing shame when he caught himself staring appreciatively at Ravenclaw Chaser Henry Carlisle after a Quidditch match when he was thirteen. Just that past summer he’d quipped something about Victoire Weasley being cute, and his parents had gone giddy teasing him about his crush. Now he was staring at someone who was not only decidedly not Victoire, but someone who was male. That wasn’t normal, was it?

Teddy bit his nails down to the quick worrying over it the entire school year. It didn’t get better when he got home for the summer, either. It was as if something had been shaken out of place, but the longer he thought about it, the more he realized he’d always had these feelings. His interest in men was the exact same interest he had in women. A part of him didn’t want to pursue the confusing stirrings in his gut, he wanted to just focus on women, but he couldn’t help it.

He experimented with his feelings by sneaking a few less than appropriate magazines into his bedroom, staying up late at night with a flashlight and looking between them with a furrowed brow. Magazines filled with erotic photos of women in bikinis and men in speedos. Some of them had completely nude centerfolds, and Teddy found himself cheerfully enjoying everything.

Teddy appreciated the curved figure of women, but he also liked staring at shirtless pictures of men, ogling at their otherwise flat chests and the ridges of the muscles in their abdomens. Teddy liked broad shoulders in men, and he liked tall women. He liked thighs and he liked the different ways people smiled. Teddy wasn’t picky, and that made him think he was flippant.

He was fourteen when he found a word to call himself. Bisexual. Being sexually attracted to both men and women. That sounded about right, but Teddy wasn’t entirely convinced until he was in his fourth year at school. He was drawn to the intrigue of sneaking around to snog, he was at that age after all. Teddy was happy to make out with fourth year Slytherin Dahlia Calhoun behind the greenhouse when they were supposed to be bringing bags of fertilizer to Hagrid’s but, but he was even more delighted about snogging Henry Carlisle under the Quidditch bleachers after a game where the Ravenclaw had taken a bludger to the arm but still managed to stay in the game.

For a blissful time he was okay with who he was, though he didn’t bring it up when he had tea with Remus, and just shrugged when his father asked him if there was “someone special” in Teddy’s life. Teddy was angry with himself for keeping something so big from his father, but he couldn’t seem to tell the man about wanting to give Dahlia his Hufflepuff scarf because it was cute, while simultaneously wanting to steal Henry’s sweaters because they smelt like him and he loved it.

Would Remus be angry with him? Teddy knew how difficult life had been for his father growing up. He had trouble connecting with people, and rejected the idea of romance for so long because he felt like he didn’t deserve it. Now Teddy was selfishly wanting to be with everyone he met no matter what gender they were, just because he could? Was that fair? Was that normal? Was there something wrong with him?

Remus had spent over thirty years of his life thinking he’d never get married, and to him there was nothing more important than his family. Tonks and Teddy were his greatest loves, that’s what Remus would tell Teddy. That everything he endured was worth it because all the pain and loneliness led him to something better than he ever could have hoped to have.

Teddy didn’t know what that was like. He didn’t appreciate pressing against another person and drinking in their affection the way Remus appreciated it, because Teddy had never longed for it before. He’d never really longed for anything, actually.

He had his beloved parents, he had grandparents who worshipped him. Uncles and aunts who set him on a pedestal, a baby cousin who seemed to idolize him, dozens of little kids who looked up to him and loved him. Teddy had friends and grades that went through the roof, the professors all adored him, and he was smart enough to pull off pranks so flawlessly that younger students came to him for advice on not getting caught. He was admired and appreciated by everyone he met, and maybe best of all, the most he dealt with during full moons was worrying idly for his father.

Teddy had it all, yet he somehow figured he could have even more? That he was entitled to it? Was that what he thought? Teddy didn’t know. It all felt so innocent and natural when he held Dahlia’s hand on the way to Hogsmeade or snuggled against Henry’s chest when they were sitting by Black Lake together.

They were friends, and they seemed to understand Teddy better than Teddy did, because they didn’t mind that the Hufflepuff was still trying to figure out who he was. They were happy to experiment and play along because “that’s what kids do”. Henry was gay and Dahlia was straight, so Teddy would sometimes see them snogging other boys at school, but he never felt jealous or angry. If anything he would think “good job guys” before going on his merry way. Teddy didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him.

He’d just turned sixteen and was finishing up his fifth year when Gryffindor Maggie Scott seemed to deepen his already heavy shame. By rejecting him when he asked if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him.

“Why the hell would I do that? I know what you do. You’ll be with me until you find some guy you’d rather snog. You can’t like two genders, fucking freak. You’re just a selfish asshole. I could never date some gay bloke who’s confused and still in the closet.”

“But I’m not gay,” Teddy said, baffled, and Maggie scoffed at him.

“You’re telling me you didn’t snog Carlisle in the Astronomy Tower?”

“No I did.” Teddy furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t make me gay.”

“Sorry.” Maggie turned away. “It’s never gonna happen. If you can’t make up your mind about who you wanna shack up with, you’ll probably end up getting bored and cheating on me.”

“I would never do that!” Teddy argued. “And—and I just wanted to go to Hogsmeade!”

“I want a real boyfriend. Not someone who just wants to play around.”

It broke Teddy’s heart, not necessarily the rejection, but the words she’d used. Selfish. Someone who just wants to play around. It wasn’t true. Teddy was pretty sure of that, but at the same time he didn’t know. Maybe he was just selfish and unable to commit to one person.

“Hey mum?” Teddy stared at where Tonks was standing at the counter fixing up dinner. He was sitting at the table with his chin nestled against his folded arms, leaning against the table.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Do you know what bisexual means?” Tonks turned to give him a curious look, and Teddy bit his tongue to keep his hair from going pink. “I heard someone talking about it at school this past year, but I don't know what it is.”

“Oh. Well, it’s when someone likes both boys and girls,” Tonks explained, waving her spatula and staring up as he spoke. “Let me think; you remember Dean and Seamus? They’re gay. I feel like we should have had this conversation before, but it was always so normal to your father and I. Oh well. Anyway, being gay is different than being bi. If you’re gay, straight, or a lesbian, it means your attracted to one gender. Gays and lesbian folk are people attracted to the same gender, so boys like boys and girls like girls. Meanwhile, straights are attracted to the opposite gender, which is what you usually see. Uncle George is straight, for example. He’s only ever been attracted to women, and the majority of people are like that, or at least the majority of what we see is straight or straight passing people.”

“But that’s normal,” Teddy said, lifting his head up. “I know people are gay or lesbian or straight. Those are like, default orientations.”

“Honey there’s no default,” Tonks argued, hands on her hips. “Sexual orientation is as fluid as gender.”

“Gender is fluid?”

“Sure, sometimes,” Tonks smiled.

“But…” Teddy glared at the table. “It’s selfish. I mean, you can’t be two things. You can’t just like girls and boys. That’s… gross.”

“Teddy!”

“And—and unfaithful!” Teddy insisted, sitting straighter. “Bisexual is just what people call themselves when they want to cheat on their girlfriend or boyfriend to make themselves feel better! They’re just people who don’t know how to commit to a normal relationship!”

“Edward Lupin!” The use of his full name made Teddy’s eyes blow wide, sinking in his seat as Tonks slammed the spatula on the counter. “I can’t believe I’m hearing something like that coming from my own son’s mouth!”

“Mum—”

“People do not deserve to be shamed for something that is completely normal and natural! None of what you just said is true!” Her expression softened. “Here I thought we raised you to be more open and accepting of people. Wouldn’t you feel hurt if someone said those things to you?” Teddy’s eyes were burning now, and Tonks sighed. “You have summer essays to work on. Go on.”

Teddy dragged himself out of the chair, ducking his head and hurrying out of the room. His boots pounded against the steps as he ran up them to the second floor, running to his bedroom and slamming the door shut as hot tears rolled down his face.

He kicked his boots off before tearing off his sweater just so he had something to throw at the wall, then stomped over to his bed and threw himself onto it as the tears started coming faster. He supposed he should have been happy, because his mother seemed to openly accept and support bisexual people, enough to defend them, but all he felt was more shame and hate. Tonks almost never yelled at him, so the fact Teddy pushed her that far made him feel sick to his stomach. She must have been so disgusted and disappointed in him. Teddy wouldn’t blame her.

He cried against his pillow for a time before rolling onto his side and grabbing the yellow and black knit blanket that Molly had made him for Christmas when he was ten. He dragged it up the bed and flopped down, covering himself with it completely and rolling into the fetal position. Teddy laid there miserably for hours, feeling on the cusp of crying again or throwing up, not yet tired enough to sleep. Everything sucked.

He flinched when he heard a knock on his door, tensing up and burying his face in his pillow as the door was opened. “Mind if I join you in your castle of sorrow?” Remus asked, but Teddy was too upset to laugh at the playful jab.

“Go away.”

“I would, but this is my house.” The door shut behind Remus, and he walked up to the bed. Teddy felt the mattress sink behind him as his father sat on the edge of it, squirming to the opposite edge of the bed to put distance between them. “I heard you and your mum got in a row. Pretty unusual.”

Teddy grit his teeth, tensing up. “She just doesn’t get it.”

Remus laughed softly. “I guess you wouldn’t think so.” The mattress shifted again, so Teddy figured Remus had leaned himself against the pillows, probably propping up his bad leg. “You know, there are more bisexual people in your life than you might guess.”

“Yeah? Name five,” Teddy scoffed, and Remus hummed.

“Your Uncle Bill for one. Percy is pretty openly bisexual, but I think it took him a while to reach that point. Luna. Your mum and me.”

Teddy gaped through the little holes in the knitted blanket as Remus talked, but he couldn’t seem to respond.

“I suppose your mum is more pansexual, though.”

“Why’d you marry her then?” Teddy asked, curling into a tighter ball. “Why’d you have me?”

“Because I love your mother, Teddy, and she loves me, and we both love you.” Teddy felt a hand on his shoulder and pinched his eyes shut. “I’ll be honest, most of my interest in men was more curiosity than action based. I did have a crush on Kingsley at one point.”

“Minister Kingsley?”

“The same. Imagine that: werewolf Remus Lupin dating Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“It wouldn’t be weird,” Teddy argued on a mumble. “You won an Order of Merlin, you would have made a good match,” he frowned, “but then I wouldn’t be here.”

“One of the very many reasons I’m happy I met your mother and fell in love with her. We’ve been together a long time now, and we’re very committed to each other. I would never cheat, and neither would she.”

Teddy felt tears well in his eyes again as shame settled in his stomach like a rock. “I didn’t mean it when I said it,” he croaked, and Remus squeezed his shoulder.

“I know you didn’t. Come on, come here.”

Teddy pushed his quilt aside and sat up, scooting closer to Remus so he could be pulled into a tight embrace. He tucked his face against Remus’ shoulder, sniffling. Remus rubbed a hand up and down his back before going into his hair.

“Now, is there something you need to talk about?”

Teddy rubbed his cheek against the scratchy cardigan Remus was wearing to dry the tears, hands clinging to the material at his back. “Dahlia Calhoun has a really nice smile, but so does Henry Carlisle.”

Remus chuckled, carding a hand through Teddy’s hair, which had gone from a depressed brown to a chalky blush pink. “And there’s nothing wrong with enjoying them both.” His arms tightened around Teddy. “I know being a teenager is hard — believe me, I know — but you’re a good person, Teddy. Whatever people may say, you were born this way, and you’re perfect. Who knows, maybe you’re bisexual because your heart is too big to love just one gender. Seems boring to me to only be attracted to just girls or just boys anyway. Your mum and I will support you whether you end up dating a man or a woman.”

“Mum’s mad at me,” Teddy said miserably, and Remus squeezed him closer.

“She’s just sad. We both should have talked to you about this kind of thing much earlier. Things got away from this. I swear you were only a year old yesterday,” his voice was rough and Teddy smiled. “Give her a hug and tell her you love her and you’re very sorry. She’ll forgive you.”

“Okay.”

“You better make up with her fast, on that note,” Remus chided as he pulled back, reaching up to wipe away the tear tracks on Teddy’s face. “Harry, Ginny, and the kids are coming over for supper.”

“Really?!” Teddy scrambled to his knees, bouncing on the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I just did!” Remus laughed. “Stop bouncing on the bed. Are you sixteen or six?”

“You wish I was six. I’m a man now, dad,” Teddy announced as he scrambled off the bed.

Remus stood up to follow him out of the room. “I do sometimes miss when you were small, but don’t forget you’re still a kid.”

“Uncle Harry was already winning a war at sixteen,” Teddy argued as he hiked down the stairs with Remus close behind.

“Uncle Harry is an idiot.”

“Hey,” they both looked up to see Harry standing just inside the door, his coat only halfway off and an indignant pout on his face.

“It’s not your fault,” Remus reassured. “It’s in the blood.”

Harry pouted more as his nine year old son shot past him, nearly toppling him, Ginny and Tonks.

“Teddy, Teddy, Teddy!”

Teddy stopped on the ground floor and opened his arms for James to run into, crashing against his chest like he was a bludgeon. “Hey Jamie,” Teddy grunted in greeting, wincing in pain as the younger boy practically climbed him in order to lock his arms around Teddy’s neck.

“Didja hear! I’m going to Hogwarts!”

“Not till next year,” Harry reminded him. “Bloody hell he hasn’t stopped with this. You have to be eleven, James.”

“I’m gonna be!” James yelled into Teddy’s ear.

Teddy tilted his head to the side, still hugging him close. “How old are you, Jamie?”

“Nine!”

“And you’re gonna be eleven this year?”

“Yeah!”

“What number comes after nine?”

“Te—!” James stopped, looking confused, then seemed to deflate. “Oh.”

“Now he’s gonna be sad all night,” Ginny said, and Harry rubbed a hand over his face.

“You know what that means though?” Teddy asked, setting James back on his feet. “I’m gonna be seventeen when you start Hogwarts, so I’ll know all the best spots to pull pranks, and all the secret hallways no one else knows about. I’ll show you the ropes!”

“What ropes?” James asked, and Teddy squished his face between his hands.

“That’s an expression, dummy.”

“Am not!”

“Are you going to say hi to Remus and Tonks?” Harry asked, and James whipped away from Teddy to scramble over to Remus.

Teddy shuffled backwards to stand with Tonks, who put an arm around him and kissed the side of his head. “I’m sorry I got mad earlier,” Teddy said softly, and Tonks squeezed him.

“It’s alright sweetie, I know you were just struggling. Your dad and I are here when you need us.”

Teddy smiled sheepishly at her, turning just in time for James to once again barrel into him and cling to him. That was how visits usually went though. James would lock himself to Teddy and not let go until he had to be dragged away. Teddy was fine with it, though. Having all three of the Potter kids piling over him and hugging him, a giggling mess.

Teddy was so lucky, he reminded himself as he crouched down so James could clamber up for a five step piggyback ride into the dining room, smiling brightly and not feeling nearly as empty and ashamed as he had before. Things were great, and they’d continue to be great, because he had the best parents in the entire world.

Thank you everyone who sent in songs!

[bittersweetmelxdy]

Day 25: Christmas Time- Victor, Lucien, Gavin and Kiro

There's been times before, you wish for so much more,/ When I was down and filled with doubt, I had you,/ And we made it through the year, it's so good to be here- Christmas C’mon, Lindsey Stirling ft. Becky G

Victor:

Of course, Victor cooks for Christmas, what else did you expect, you used Christmas as an excuse to eat and Victor loved to feed you.

Despite being a bog CEO and you being the head producer of your company, the two of you always made sure that you had Christmas off to spend with each other.

Every year Victor took you to see a ballet, ever since the two of you were dating, he had done this and he still continued this trend, and it became something you looked forward to, every year.

Melody loved going to the ballet, her eyes would always light up seeing the ballerinas dance across the stage, and this eventually sparked her interest in ballet, a passion Victor had no problem investing in.

Christmas for the Li’s always consisted of the annual LFG Christmas Gala, and every year all of you would attend, and every year by the end of the festivities, Victor would find you and his children sleeping on a couple of chairs in the corner of the ballroom, he would always smile fondly, rouse you all gently to take you home, and then proceed to tease you about it the next day.

The actual Christmas day was a pretty grand affair, Victor worked like clock-work regardless of him having day off or not, so he still got up early on Christmas, which was great for the children who would wake up early due to Christmas excitement, but it wasn’t great for you, who just wanted a lie in.

Despite Victor being the most pernickety person you had ever met, he didn’t have a problem letting the children help with any Christmas cooking, especially his son, who from very early on loved to cook (this based on some childhood stories my mum told me about me).

You loved watching this part of the Christmas traditions, as Victor always used a very soft and affectionate tone with his children, he explained things clearly, and he only ever raised his voice whenever the two were in any danger.

You always teased Victor that if Goldman saw how he acted with his children he would faint, or think the world was ending. (Victor never found it funny as you did).

Victor’s Dad and his Aunt always came to visit so you would have a nice big family Christmas dinner, but you would alternate whether you hosted or his father did. When you hosted your aunts and uncles and cousins would also visit, making the house both crowded and noisy.

Of course, Victor’s father and Aunt taught your children to play mahjong (you were still a bit of a lost cause), and you would play games together to varying degrees of success, (Monopoly was banned in your house after your children started crying that Victor was being too mean during a game).

Victor would always make a special Christmas pudding specifically for this day, that would be flavoured with whatever Christmas flavour was popular that year, which you never complained about, you were always happy to eat any of Victor’s cooking.

You would always take Christmas pictures together, and every year Victor would complain that maybe you should take professional photos, to which you would roll your eyes and then proceed to continue to take candid silly photos with your phone and camera (“Victor, no one wants to waste money on a fancy professional picture, I have a phone.”).

Victor made sure to always be off on Christmas day and also to always be home, because he firmly believed Christmas is for family and home, so he made sure that’s where he was, because you and children were his top priority. 

Lucien:

Lucien never really saw the true point of Christmas until he started dating you, but it wasn’t because he now felt the Christmas spirit, but more he enjoyed seeing you enjoy the Christmas spirit, you were always so bright to him throughout the rest of the year, but it was something about the festive season that made him unable to take his eyes off of you.

He let you take full control of all your Christmas plans, happy to just take a backseat and let you dictate how various things you wanted to do throughout the day, no matter how cliché it was, once you heard from Lucien how he didn’t “really do Christmas”, you were determined to have him try as many Christmas traditions as possible in hopes that he’d feel more inclined to enjoy Christmas.  

He always told you that you didn’t have to cook a lot as he knew how busy you were and you were only ever preparing for Christmas between the two of you.  

So, you would often spend Christmas morning cooking together, something you found both relaxing and enjoyable, however this had to be moved to Christmas Eve once Aurora was born so that you could spend most of the day with her.

Every year Lucien will take you to see the Loveland Christmas lights, and no matter how many years you go together, every year feels special, as you always went on a quiet evening so the three of you had the whole park to yourselves, to admire and run around under the twinkling lights.

You have your Christmas playlist blasting throughout the month and as you get closer and closer to the date, you and Lucien would dance around to your favourites, (read: you and Aurora would dance and sing, and Lucien would join in to humour you).

Lucien would often receive a lot of gifts from the Research Centre, so you never have to buy chocolates/ biscuits/ cakes around this time of year, as you always had a steady supply.

You would take the surplus treats, and you and Lucien would also buy enough gifts for all the children at the orphanage, going every single year to see their Christmas play and distributing the gifts, the smile that would light up their faces was like a gift that kept on giving.  

If you didn’t have any plans, or it was one or your quieter Christmases you would also go visit the children on the evening of the 25th, just to spend time with them and join the workers in giving the children a memorable Christmas.

Gavin:

Christmas was something you and Gavin kept to your small family of four, as New Year’s was spent with your extended family.

Every Christmas starts the same way for you, with a lie-in, Gavin and you just stay in bed enjoying each other’s presence without the morning rush, as both of you share this day off, Gavin never tells you but since he is conditioned to wake up early, he always watches your sleeping form rise and fall with your steady breathing, as the first sunbeams shimmer through the curtains and bathe your figure in a warm golden glow.

Then the both of you would spend Christmas in a very slow and lazy manner, glad to just have a day where the only commitment the two of you had was to each other.

However once Caleb and Ellie are born, this routine changes slightly, the two little ones knock on the door as early as possible, excited and ready to start the day, bouncing on the foot of the bed, to rouse the both of you into action.

Gavin and you both have a rule not to open presents until after lunch, and every year, no matter how much the children protest, you both stick rigidly to that rule.

So, you spend the morning watching Christmas movies, eating all the various sweet treats you had baked in the previous days, and drinking hot chocolate, (or if you’re allergic to chocolate like I am, just drinking tea/ coffee/ any other beverage).

Then you all sit down for Christmas dinner, and you often invite Eli and Minor to join you for this part of the festivities, something both of them don’t mind as they dote upon the children (although sometimes you do have to remind them they shouldn’t be competing for favourite uncle), and this part of the day is usually the loudest part of your day, and despite how exasperated Gavin always looks at the antics of his “friends”, you know that him seeing the bright smiles on his two children’s faces every year makes it all worth it... just.

Gavin’s brother also came some years to spend Christmas with you all, always happy to see the children, but you understood the rift between Gavin and his family, and never pushed Gavin to spend more time with them than he was comfortable with.

You love seeing your children opening presents at Christmas just because the way they do so, Ellie will rip the wrapping paper in the quickest way to get to the present inside, creating a mess of wrapping paper around her, but Caleb would carefully remove the tape, piece by piece, unfolding the wrapping paper trying to keep it as intact as possible. The stark difference between your two children always made you smile, that and the fact that after they had opened the presents the two of them would each, in turn throw themselves at you and Gavin for a big hug and a “thank you!”.

Eli and Minor at this point would always ask the children which gift they thought was the best and you and Gavin had taught them well as your children would always choose a gift neither of them had bought. (One year, Caleb being put on the spot picked Eli’s gift and Minor proceeded to sulk about it for the next three months, often throwing pointed barbs at you whilst at work, much to your amusement)

Once the two of them left, you and Gavin would spend the rest of the evening playing with the children and their presents, before having a late dinner, consisting of the leftovers from lunch, and an early night.

You and Gavin knew your Christmas’ weren’t as exciting as other people’s but the quiet, lazy kind of way you both did Christmas suited the both of you, you had enough chaos in your work life, so a quiet Christmas was always a well-appreciated gift.

Kiro:

Kiro often had to be abroad during Christmas for tours and filming so he was rarely free to spend Christmas at home in Loveland.

His solution- where he goes around Christmas, his family goes too!

The only time the two of you spent Christmas apart was the Christmas before the twins were born, you were too pregnant to fly, but to make up for it Kiro video called you for two hours, and when he wasn’t able to be on the phone with you he sent you multiple video updates of food that he tried and things that he did to celebrate whilst he was apart from you, but in every video he made sure to tell you that he loved you and missed you greatly.

Absolutely loves having his kids with him whilst he’s abroad during Christmas, especially if it’s somewhere he’s been before, because he loves taking you all to his favourite food places and celebrating other Christmas traditions together.

Takes so many pictures of your all during Christmas, wanting to document as many memories as he can with all of you that he can.

On the rare occasions that you can spend Christmas in Loveland, you and Kiro strive to make it feel as much as “home” as you can. The twins never see it as boring, just different because you’re at home.

You and Kiro would hide the presents around the house for each other, and later you would do the same for the children, and you would give the person looking a set of three clues for them to try and find their presents. As the age increases the difficulty of the clue also increases, and there was only one year where Kiro had to help you because you couldn’t figure out the last clue because he had made it too hard and you ended up sitting on the floor pouting, whilst Kiro apologised and then tried to explain the clue to you.

Kiro and you would make Christmas dinner together, because the only food he loves more than your cooking is Souvenir, and you would have fun goofing off and cooking together.

Kiro would have no problem dancing around the kitchen/ living room/ hotel room, to all your favourite Christmas songs, every year you both will belt out ‘All I want for Christmas Is You’ whilst dancing together in your socks and pyjamas, often dissolving into laughter at least twice during the song.

Another tradition you do whilst you’re at home is to make cookies with the whole family, the twins loved the whole process of cutting the cookies out in various fun shapes, but unlike before your kids when you only had to stop Kiro from eating the raw batter, now you had to stop three people from eating the batter, but despite your scolding the smile painted on your face clearly showed that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kiro loves having a family of his own to spend the holidays with, as even though Savin was always kind enough to let him spend the festive period with him and his family, he always felt a little like a guest rather than a part of the festivities.

So now he has his own special family he finds Christmas even more exciting, as he’s finally a part of something more that’s just him, and he has a group of people that love him and he loves unconditionally, and just being able to spend time with you all was the greatest gift he could ever receive.

[thankyouforbeingpartofmylifeonce]

What you told me a long time ago

It all started on March 2018. I asked for a chance to try again and mend things. You agreed but just told me you needed a little time to calm down and settle with your health and family issues first. I agreed and accepted your condition. I waited and waited for you till August 2019. During this one year+, I trusted you so much that I didn't go out to search for you and believed everything you told me. I never would have thought that you were lying and hiding so many things from me. You told me you needed money for your medical bills even showed me a fake bill which I clearly saw the date. I asked and you said the hospital system had an error, me knowing that a government hospital wouldn't ask you for payment and the system of a hospital wouldn't have such an error chose to believe and trust you because I loved you too much to believe that you were lying to me. Yes, you already paid me back but the fact that you and your family used me to get money that was not meant to pay your bills but the debt your aunt owed. You could have told me the truth, and no doubt I would still have helped. Why would I the family of someone I loved so much to suffer right? It's something that I can help with so I wouldn't mind. I trusted you so much that I didn't control who you went out with and didn't even check your phone. Apparently there were guys who were texting you with intentions and you didn't even tell me. You said you didn't want me to get jealous but isn't it doing the opposite of what you want? It built insecurities and paranoia in me. Till today I don't know what is true and what is not. So many things you kept silent and I don't know about it. Did you really fell into coma? Is the condition your cousin told me you had is true? Are you really suffering from lupus? Is your family really going through a hard time? Cause the way you are acting it's telling me that your family seems fine. I don't care about any money and that's the truth. Why I asked for it? It's because you and your family played me like a fool and then decided to walk away as if nothing you guys did was wrong. Like nothing happened. If you truly didn't want to give me a chance at all, you could have told me that months ago and didn't lie to me. I wouldn't be so mad if you did that. Why didn't do that? Because you know I had the money to help you guys back then? So after paying me back you have the right to just ghost me? Isn't that just using me? You lied, hid and used me. Isn't that just pure evil? I know I was toxic and wasn't a good partner to you. But why didn't you point that out to me? Why kept quiet about it? Because you could still use me? Yes, I was wrong and all but I believe I don't deserve this type of treatment after all the sacrifices I made for you and your family. During the year of being away, I realised it all and I want to make things right and change for the better. But you didn't let me, you kept using fear as an excuse. Even before I asked for my money, you didn't even give me a chance. You and your cousin went out to lie to me that you lost your memories due to the medical pills you had to take. I had a hunch that it was fake but I chose to not believe myself and trusted you guys for it. I loved you too much to doubt what you said. You claimed when I asked for the money that made you fear me but from the start there wasn't a intention to give me a chance to prove it to you right? The fact that you lied about your memories says it. Why do that? Because you needed time to pay me back? So after paying you can treat me like this? Not explaining anything and ghosting me? You could have stop giving me hope months ago and come clean with it. It wouldn't be so painful like how it is now. You refuse to pay me back money, nevermind. You also refuse to come clean with your lies? I can't get my closure but you can simply ghost me? You don't want to settle things between us and didn't let me get my answers from anyone. You can simply walk away like nothing happened and here I am suffering every minute. I can't even get my closure. You acting like the victim and getting me punished instead for your lies and after using me. You lied to my family cause so much pain for my mum. After doing all that I still don't deserve a chance to prove myself? So only you can use me, lie and hide things while I can't even go to you to get my answers? If I'm toxic then you're evil and not even apologetic for it. Till now I wonder how can you live your life and sleep after doing this to me. You choose to believe tumblr posts but not me. You are suffering from depression and you let it amplify the negativity and choose to believe in it. You choose to trust that more than someone who went through a lot with you. I'm just broken by what you did. You can live your life when I can't. I can't even get my answers now. You told me to stay and said we can always make things work no matter what, but when it truly mattered you chose not to and left me alone like a used rag. Why? Why can't you trust me again and try again? I waited for more than a year only to be deceived and used then thrown away just like that? My life went down the sewer now thanks to this. I can't be myself anymore, can't be at peace and always thinking of why you did this to me. You there, living as if you did nothing wrong. I'm can't believe you are like this cause if you tell me this was gonna happen back in 2016, I wouldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe someone like you would be so evil. Just too evil. And I trusted you too much only to be used.

[along-the-devils-backbone]

Today is just not getting any better haha

Mum keeps dumping all of this family stuff on me for people i don’t know and don’t care about (and they sure as hell don’t care about me either) and it’s all super triggering shit. 

Cousin so-and-so is having an abortion because she thinks being 35 is too old to have a kid and that it’ll “come out wrong” and that any woman over 32 needs to not have kids. ALSO that cousin says ‘Happy early 30′th birthday” to me and wants to know if i’ve had kids yet, as if that’s not a constant worry in the back of my mind! :D 

Cousin whatshisname is getting death threats in the family for being gay and has had one atttempt on his life already by his brother, but survived being stabbed in the stomach! YAY FAMILY!

Aunt Secretary-lady wants to know when you’re ever going to have your wedding, and if she and the entire horde of catholics we’re related to are invited or not, despite the fact that they’re all homophobic, violent, and you haven’t talked to any of them since you were 6 years old! 

My insurance is dropping me in december if i don’t meet the requirements for working -- but i can’t work, because of my mental & physical health, but they won’t help me get disability or any help with diagnosis/treatment because i’m “too young to be that unhealthy.” and they won’t consider surgeries until i’m bedridden 100%. 

I can’t say anything to mom about stopping talking about any of this, because as soon as i ask her to stop, or change the subject, or get up and leave -- i instantly am a terrible person, i’m told to “stop yelling at her” and that i’m “making her feel bad!” like wow okay cool. Glad her feelings and emotions are the only ones to matter! Awesome! I don’t know what else i expected at this point haha. 

I’m already upset about so much shit that i’m trying to be an adult with and just not let it bother me. My brother-in-law and his wife took our wedding theme (that everyone hated) and told us they’d never go to -- and now everyone thinks it’s amazing and fun. My best friend is having a wedding after that, and i thought i’d be included in something, but i guess getting an invite was the most i should have expected. I’m wanting to marry both my partners, but one keeps putting everything off because we “don’ have enough money” but refuses to do anything else about it, and the other is so far away it may take YEARS to bring him home thanks to our country being a piece of shit about immigrants. 

I’m struggling to work -- which isn’t even official work, it’s just patreon shit -- and it’s not enough to count towards anything (it helps me get my meds each month and food, but not enough to live on our own yet) and all i can think of is this massive clock ticking loudly in my head telling me that i’m losing time. I’m not going to ever have kids, i’m not ever going to get married, i’m going to be stuck in this fucking family forever in excruciating pain because no one in my immediate family wants to help me get out of here. 

I’m frustrated and upset and i’m so fucking lost. Every time we try to tatke a step forward and do anything helpful -- get a GED or a license or a job -- something gets in the way. my health acts up, or dad throws a massive tantrum and refuses to take me anywhere, or the car mysteriously has something wrong with it, or mum puts it off forever because she knows she’s the keypin in the sittuation on getting anything done. 

I’m so tired. So fucking tired.  

[asterlizard]

UK trip summer 2019

(Argh! I’m sorry for the delay! I meant to finish this back in June, but I haven’t had much time to finally get around to it)

I haven’t been to the UK in 3 years, and while the feelings were admittedly mixed, because it involved a lot of cleaning up and donations of my grandparents’ items, I did get to have a bit of fun and do some new things on this trip.

Our flight would leave in the middle of the day, but we still had to wake up early so that we could arrive at the airport, do airport security, and get to our boarding gate in plenty of time.

This started off by waking up at around 7:00 in order to meet a Lyft driver (for a first time rideshare, Uber failed to find someone for us) who would take us to a bus stop, which would take us directly to the airport.

As we were arriving at SFO, I could have sworn I saw some beehives in a patch of grass between the weaving roads. However, researching it doesn’t seem to bring up anything. Hmm...

I was looking forward to eating pizza at the selection of restaurants before the security checkout, but unfortunately it was closed, and all of the other restaurants seemed to have been replaced. So the only thing that appealed to me then was Chinese food. It was pretty tasty though.

The entertainment on the flight was a little different than what I’m used to (then again I haven’t flown in a few years). They had more limited music options, and the only decade available was the 80s. I could also zoom in anywhere on the map, which is a horrible distraction for someone like me :P Also, the food was pretty tasty, especially the mango sorbet, which was the definite winner for me :P

Cool view of Alcatraz just before we flew past it

I witnessed an airplane halo, also known as a ‘glory’!

Since we travelled light, we didn’t have to wait to collect our luggage afterwards. We also breezed through the passport check, since we’re British citizens.

I like this mirror effect, but the distortion made it extra cool

At this point, it was 7 in the morning, and we had to meet up with a family friend who lives in London, where we would stay at overnight before progressing to our destination. Along the way I saw some students using the Tube to get to school (it was a school day after all). This was kinda interesting as someone who grew up in America and never had to wear a school uniform.

We actually had to meet our friend by walking from the nearest Tube station to her house (which is fine, I don’t mind walking! Especially after a 9 hour flight). Not long after we met up, she showed me this little fox sleeping outside her window (I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in person before!) It likes to do this when the sun is out. Unfortunately for it, it was sleeping next to a couple of squawking magpies.

We then went on a short walk along the canal. There we saw a swan family and a coot family (and babies!!)

We would then head over to the British Museum. Our friend told us in advance that it would be hosting a manga exhibit, and we arrived the day after it debuted. Just before heading over, she brings up that the Rosetta Stone was also there. I didn’t anticipate this, because I thought it was held in a different museum. So I was getting more excited to see the Rosetta Stone over seeing the manga exhibit xD (I joked that I was about to meet my ‘rock star’)

It was about ￡20 to enter the exhibit, so only I went, while our friend and mum explored the rest of the museum. The exhibit started off with a ‘trip down the rabbit hole’, in reference to perhaps the most influential British work in Japanese media, Alice in Wonderland, and its appearances in manga over the years.

Then it showed the history of manga, manga influences, a brief manga how-to, and genres of manga. I saw some familiar works, like Astro Boy, DragonBall, Sailor Moon, a work from the creator of Akira, One Piece, Golden Kamui, Saint Young Men, etc. I also saw some works that I've never encountered that I'm interested in (a rugby manga, a wheelchair rugby manga coming soon, a murder mystery manga at the British museum, a manga about a saxophonist)

There were also some video exhibits, whether it's clips from anime next to their respective manga, creators/staff talking about their creative process, artists drawing their manga, or a series of clips from Ghibli films, but you weren't allowed to take pics of these.

At one point, I even saw an Attack on Titan cosplayer! (ready to take down the giant inflatable titan head I presume)

It’s difficult to read, but this is Morohoshi Daijiro, and it says that Hayao Miyazaki was strongly influenced by him. I’ll have to look at his stuff sometime.

I probably spent about two hours in there, longer than I expected. Admittedly I was tired, and my legs were getting sore, and a little over half an hour before I was done I needed a loo. I was feeling all sorts of physically gross at this point, and I had no idea how much of the exhibit I was actually absorbing even though I tried.

Before the end of the exhibit, I waited in line to get a photo taken, so the machine would add a comic-like gradient to it and insert it into a comic panel. Once I was done, I made a beeline to the nearest loo (for a split moment I panicked that they would be the ‘pay-to-use’ loos, and I didn’t have any money on me, as all of my stuff was with mum, thankfully it wasn’t).

After meeting back with mum and our friend, we headed back to our friend’s home, as I was feeling too exhausted to do anything else.

By the way, I did get to see the Rosetta Stone, but I would need to see it again when I’m not jet-lagged and there’s less people. By the way, I also learned that the figures on the pediment over the British Museum were created by my ancestor, so... y’know, there’s another reason to revisit the place.

I finally went to bed after some dinner, dessert, and a refreshing shower. I had been awake for about 32 hours!

The next day, mum and I stocked up on food (most of which I missed after a long time of not eating them. I still wish I could eat them more often!) and travelled by train to our destination.

The train also was different than what I’m used to. The livery is different, and instead of there being a ticket(?) on the top of an occupied seat, there was a red/green light above the window that indicated whether the seat was occupied or not.

At some point our passenger neighbours were cracking up and couldn’t stop laughing, which was contagious enough for me and a few other strangers to laugh. It was a great moment. When we arrived, we met up with my aunt, uncle, and cousin, and we had fish and chips and a good chat.

The day after we arrived, we already got started with clearing my grandparents’ house. At this point, I already made peace with the fact that we would need to sell the place (nobody in the family wanted it, plus it needed a lot of work done to it, which would have been pretty costly). Unfortunately, because they had a lot of things, we had to be a bit ruthless with what we had to get rid of, because we certainly couldn’t keep it all. I also let go of a few things I grew up with that I was willing to part with and donate. Still there were several items we were able to keep and bring home with us. Thankfully mum’s friends also would try and keep other things for us. It was still a bit of a heartbreaking process though.

I also finally (after a long time) had a 99! It feels good to walk into an ice cream shop and order one, and they'll know what you're talking about :P

Speaking of food, according to my friend, it’s apparently a crime that I haven’t been to a Gregg’s yet, so I tried some of their food, which were delicious! Unfortunately, they didn’t have an iced split, which my friend has, and is apparently really good. (I love international chats, because my friend can say something like 'try a 99 with monkey blood', and it will make no sense to non-Brits) Even the berries are tastier here! idk if it’s because we’re closer to berry farms, but they’re sweeter and juicier than the ones I get back in America.

Speaking of which, the shops in town are different than what I remember. Only a few places I visit regularly remained.

I also got to see a circus for the first time. Although the acts were amazing, my favourite part of the show, believe it or not, were the clown segments. They consisted of a father and 10-year son duo, and the antics were amusing (the duo trying to run and hug each other but missing and in the end hug ‘around’ each other instead, the father getting an audience member to throw a potato onto a carving fork held in his mouth and epically missing, the father getting some audience members to ride an invisible motorbike with him, etc) Unfortunately the show did have some strobe lights and animal segments (even if they weren’t hurting them, I still don’t see the appeal of watching wild animals doing unnatural things :/ )

One of the things that hadn’t changed was our local cobbler still being in business. Even before the trip, mum wanted to pay him a visit so that he could repair her shoes. He's one of the last relics of the old town, he's 78, and has worked for 57 years including 7 years as an apprentice. He was even one of mum’s first memories from when she was small! There’s something charming about a town shoe shop having several piles of stuff, topped with a huge pile of shoes and the smell of glue and shoe polish while a shoe repair motor runs in the background :)

The local bookshop owner also had a charming shop, with piles of books everywhere. And yes, it’s so small and narrow, only one person at a time can visit. We visited his place a few times to donate most of my grandparents’ books, as well as old items like maps and photographs. We can breathe a sigh of relief that they will be protected and given a new home.

Went for a 2.5 hour walk, first along the beach, then through a newer and more secluded area of town that I’ve never visited before (I ALMOST saw a robin, I’ve only seen the American robin in person)

At one point after shopping, I was holding a leek in my hand, and a lady passing by quipped to me, “I know we’re Welsh, but that’s a bit excessive” :P

Also, idk what made me think of it, but I imagined, instead of dog shows, there would be snail shows. It would last for hours, walking the snail would last for 10 minutes instead of 10 seconds, and the awards would be something like: 'Largest Snail', 'Fastest Snail', 'Hungriest Snail', 'Perkiest Snail', 'Longest Antennae'...

>:U

(I took quite a few panorama shots during this trip)

Unfortunately, a pathway I like to take was closed off

We visited some friends of ours, and some friends of ours visited us. My family and I also did a little burial ceremony for my grandparents (originally mum wanted to buy sweet pea flowers, as they were my grandmother’s favourite. I then ask if my grandfather had a favourite flower. Mum didn’t really know, but she did remember he would always buy my grandmother a rose because he loved her so much. So we bought a red rose as well (afterwards I learned from a friend that sweet pea flowers are a symbol of protection and goodbyes, which is INCREDIBLY SWEET BUT SAD 😭))

The next day we had miserable weather due to Storm Miguel. It was surprisingly the only bad day we had weather-wise. And yet, for some reason mum and I decided to eat out at an Indian restaurant (the food was pretty tasty)

During most of the trip, my family have been fervently trying to research who the people in my grandparents’ paintings were and how they were connected to my family. The only thing I got out of it so far is that my family might be more Scottish that I thought!

Went shopping in Carmarthen (and crossed a bridge next to some sheep, close enough to hear them), but I had to make a train that arrived half an hour after I woke up! Ate at Pizza Express (the food was tasty, but the strawberry still lemonade was PERFECT) Unfortunately we had to cut our shopping time short, because our earliest trains to catch were at around 14:30 and 17:30, and we would rather get back home as soon as possible. We were able to get most of what we wanted though.

One day while I was hanging out with my younger cousin (we chatted a lot during the trip, he does Irish dancing, and he taught me the difference between the different dances), he introduced a couple of fun games that the family got to play: Camping, and Spoons

Camping: Preferably played with 3 or more people It's a rotation game in which the rest of the group has to figure out what the leader's pattern is Starting with the leader, each person says 'I'm gonna go camping, and I'm gonna bring...' and then a noun. When the leader says their phrase and noun, they have an unspoken pattern they decided to follow, whether it's a bit of subtle body language they make while saying it, or if it has to do with the nouns themselves. The next person then says the phrase and a noun in hopes that they will follow the pattern. If they do, the leader will respond to their phrase, 'you can come', otherwise 'you can't come'. After the pattern is revealed, the next person becomes the leader, and the cycle continues. Players are allowed to guess the pattern depending on how many people got it (eg: you are allowed to ask for hints if stumped, and if everybody gets it, the pattern can be revealed) In hard mode, if your attempt is part of the pattern, regardless of whether you know the pattern or not, you have to sit out the rest of the game. (examples of patterns: saying whatever while having both feet on the floor and hands on lap, dog breeds, alphabetical succession between players (eg: 'hedgehog', 'iodine', 'Jamaica'...), the nouns have to begin with the same letter as your eye colour (lol I never got this one because I don't regularly make eye contact with people), the noun has to begin with the same letter as the cardinal direction you're facing, the noun has to begin with the same letter as the colour shirt the player after you is wearing)

Spoons: Preferably played with 3-13 people It's a game of speed, similar to musical chairs There are n-1 spoons in the middle of the table for n number of players and n number of ranks One player becomes the leader, in which they shuffle the cards and deal four per player. When the leader says 'go', every player including the leader removes a card and places it for the person to their left to grab, while each player must always end up with four cards per 'go' (when saying 'go', the key is that there shouldn't be much time for thinking, the game must move quickly, but there should be about a second or two to organize your cards if needs be, so roughly every 3-5 seconds per 'go') If a player has four of one rank, they must grab a spoon, and all of the other players must grab a remaining spoon as quickly as possible, in the hopes that they won't be the last player without a spoon A player that ends up without a spoon loses a life, and after three lives are up, they're out of the game. With this, a spoon and a group of four of a rank also sit out of the game When it's down to two players, one of the players sitting out must shuffle the remaining deck, so that the two remaining players don't know what kind of deck to expect, and say 'go'

Went for a lovely walk near the beach

Tiny friends!

Ah yes, this bed of rocks looks comfortable to sit on...

I also got to finally try a 99 with monkey blood, though the syrup isn’t called monkey blood where I’m from apparently. Mum and I also tried to feed the sparrows, but larger birds were lurking and wanted to sabotage the efforts.

After some final decisions on what to bring and what to keep, mum and I left the house for what might have been the last time. We will miss it though. I did take some videos of the place not long before we arrived, as a kind of snapshot of the place, not only for memory, but for a potential reference in one of my stories.

At the airport, I got a pat down for the first time in my life because I had worn the wrong trousers that had more metallic fixings on them >:[

During the flight, I chose a better selection of films on the plane:

旅猫リポート: Cute but kinda sad film about the life of the man who adopted a cat and why he has to give it away to someone he can trust.

Christopher Robin: Very charming film, and the British wildlife scenery was depicted beautifully

Wonder Woman: Well-written film

(I’m curious to know where this is near London)

Overall, this trip was different than what I’m used to, not just because it was less of a family visit, but rather a lot of aspects of what I’m used to have changed a lot over the years. I’m hoping, even if I never live in that house anymore, that I can still pay the town a visit somehow in the future, as it’s still a dear place to me that I had grown up with all my life.

[bitchiago]

HAUNTING GENEVIEVE / CHAPTER ONE 

(full chapter under cut)

Contrary to popular belief, the Catholic Church does not believe that the mortal sin of suicide automatically sends the performer of said act to hell. In fact, the Catechism itself says, and I quote, that ‘we should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. By ways known to him alone, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance.’

The internet is handy for little titbits such as this. A personal favourite that’s been gnawing at my soul recently after trolling question and answer forums the three weeks prior has been ‘one doesn't attend a funeral out of respect for the dead, but for the living.’

I’m new to the funeral scene, the mourning scene in general, actually. Hell, I haven’t even lost a grandparent. And while some of these bits of information come as absolutely knee shaking, leg buckling, hand sweating, anxiety inducing; sometimes you can find something on these sites to calm your nerves a little. Still, there’s very little online about attending the funeral of your best friend who you were knees deep in an illicit homosexual affair with, hid far from both your parents, friends and loved ones.

Point is, I’m doing as much research as I can for my first funeral since it is such an impromptu and particularly confusing one.

One thing I can say, however, that I didn’t need to find affirmation for online, is that this was the first day I didn’t wake up crying my eyes red raw, and, for a matter of fact, the first that I didn’t wake up and immediately have to rush to the bathroom to throw up, which I have been routinely doing since I found out about Molly’s death. This time I rushed and gagged till I had tears in my eyes. It’s involuntary by this point. There’s no other way for my body to cope and catch up with my mind at the same time apparently.

Each morning has been the same since the day I got the damned call. I wake up, check my phone for a text that is not there nor will it ever be, see the texts that are almost always there, then rush to the bathroom and try to make it to the toilet bowl before last night’s dinner spews up onto the hall carpet. I didn’t realise a death could affect you in such a physical way until the end of Molly.

The difference in today, or so I’ve speculated with the limited brain power I’m able to sacrifice for the cause, is that the stress seems to have completely balled up inside of me and made it impossible for me to do anything but think about the funeral. This includes effective vomiting.

I close the PDF I found of the Catechism I never once thought I would find myself searching through and return to my google tab. All the questions I could ask and yet none would explain the clusterfuck of a situation I’m in.

I saw Molly’s mum two days after she found her daughter in her bedroom unconscious. At first she thought she was asleep, then when Molly wouldn’t get up for breakfast, not even when her mother shook her shoulders and screamed her name trying to wake her up, she realised exactly what her daughter was. The empty packet of sertraline gave her enough information for her to piece together how it had happened.

I didn’t find out till the afternoon when Lillian, Molly’s best friend, called me on Molly’s parent’s behalf. (See? The best friend role is taken, what am I supposed to grieve in front of people at the funeral? The one who found out second? The second-best friend?). Ever since Lillian’s call, ever since she said the words and I froze and she asked if I was still there and I hung up, I’ve been ignoring her attempts to talk to me. Dread is not the word I’m feeling to face her again. Or Molly’s parents. Or Molly’s aunt and uncles and favourite cousins I never got the chance to meet over the short-lived school year and summer we were dating.

After typing in a few ‘do I have to cry at a funeral?’ and ‘how much crying is too much crying?’ questions into google, not having the motivation to read a single answer to them, I shut my laptop on my desk and spin round in my chair.

My phone sits perched on my bed beside my pillow, sheets sprawled out in a mess on the bed after my hasty escape to the bathroom this morning. I move to sit at the end of my bed across from my phone. I had been using it less now that I hadn’t anyone to text except for my parents. Still, I seemed to keep it close by and check it out of habit every few minutes. I don’t know what keeps me repeating this ritual knowing full well my lock screen will be the same as ever. Worst of all is whenever I catch myself looking for new texts with that familiar name at the top and I start to feel a little queasy, which is making me worse for wear considering how my mornings have been going recently. I’m thinking of getting a watch instead of a phone.

The contemplative eye contact I’ve managed to hold with my phone shatters when the thing starts ringing and vibrating its way off the pillow onto the sheets. I pick it up and switch it off. It was my second alarm, the one I set last night telling me that I had two minutes till I had to leave for the funeral, in case I ignored the first one telling me I was T minus twenty in hopes of making the event disappear from my calendar altogether. But, and I’m sad to say I’m quickly coming to this realisation, ignoring something doesn’t make it go away. Not even when you wish it with your whole being.

“Genevieve!” I hear my mum call from downstairs. T-minus 0. My alarm had tricked me.

 My mum holds my hand through the whole funeral. At first I pull away, but after the third time she grabbed a hold of my sweaty palm, I try and settle into it.

We sit in the pews, deep in the middle of the congregation, on those god-awful cold hard benches, and I try with all my might to pay attention to the words being spoken by the priest. Love, peace, great tragedy – it all sounded the same. If I really needed comforting, I could google the exact transcript he was speaking from. In fact, I had been doing exactly that for the past week. Every so often I glance around the rows of faces, trying to catch an eye of someone, anyone really, to ask are you getting any of this? To find some kind of connection so I didn’t feel so lost in it all. The only one I manage to find is Jesus hanging on the back wall, right above the priest.

I watch Jesus hang over him, as I do every Sunday morning, feeling strange that today is actually a Tuesday, and feel those same shudders crawl down my spine that I always feel when I look too carefully at the hanging Jesus. Gruesome, it is; I had always thought so. A dead man hanging from two planks of wood, for everyone to see – and the large crucifixes intended for hanging above the altar in churches are detailed things too, they’re created to be a spectacle. The blood dripping from Jesus’ hands are always too real a shade of red to be just paint, and if I ever looked at it for too long, it would look wet.

My eyes shoot down again to the priest, love, peace, love, peace, CRASH! The bloody crucifix could fall and crush him like a bug at any moment. I wonder if he knew. It doesn’t fall. Of course, it doesn’t – it never does. They’re sturdy spectacles, crucifixes are. Detailed bloody sturdy things.

I don’t manage a single bit of contact with any of the attendees. All of the faces remain locked on the priest. They don’t need the contact with me as much as I need it with them. I am alone, even with my mum’s hand to hold onto. Not even God himself will give me a sparing glance to lock onto. I squeeze my mum’s hand harder.

When the mass ends, I find myself standing by the exit, expertly avoiding the priest’s handshake as well as eye contact with the church goers who had done their duty by attending and were now leaving the church to go on with their lives. I fear that I’m going to be stuck in this church forever, hovering around and waiting for my mum who is near the altar, giving her condolences to Molly’s family and trying to make eye contact with me as a last chance at getting me to come over and speak with them.

Molly’s mum had already seen me earlier and smiled, which I returned, and that was about enough as I could manage. We both understood, or at least I hope we did.

I look down at my hands and start flicking my fingers off of one another. Ah, yes, the perfect distraction. Simple enough to not get convoluted and stress me out, but quiet and subtle enough for it not to draw attention from anyone and have them wisecrack something about it to get me talking to them.

As soon as my mum had wished well, we would be leaving.

I look back over to them, but something is different – different as in my mum is waving at me, beckoning me over. Not only that, but Molly’s immediate family is looking at me, too. Only me.

I drop my hands to my sides and dart my eyes to the side. Was someone calling me? Someone in the church foyer, perhaps?

I take a sharp breath and shuffle out of the church and into the foyer, making myself hidden deep into a new crowd. The same church goers – but now not seated and in perfect formation for my hideout.

I glance back through into the church and run a hand down my face.

Yes, it seems at only aged seventeen, Genevieve Walsh has ditched her first funeral and its own grieving family to save her own selfish feelings. Not even a goodbye!

A wash of relief washes over me, an emotion I wasn’t quite expecting to feel today. Then comes a tap on my shoulder.

“Genevieve?”

Oh! Wasn’t I too quick on the relief front? The voice is recognised immediately, it’s the same voice that said the words that tore my world apart just three weeks ago. The voice I had been ignoring ever since.

I stand frozen. Perhaps I didn’t feel the tap, maybe I didn’t hear my name, maybe… maybe someone was calling me in the church now too? I side eye the main church hall again, no… it was too risky. Trading one tricky emotional situation for another when I had just ran tail between my legs from the first? No thanks.

Then something hitches in my stomach – shifts in a way its not supposed to. I feel it. It’s happening. Of all the mornings, I have been training for this. I look dead up and make eye contact with the bathroom. Finally, the morning vom sesh has come to take me.

“Sorry,” I whisper back at Lillian, or I maybe don’t. I can’t be sure. All I know now is that I’m saying excuse me’s and I’m sorry’s at people as I push them out of the way and stumble to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

I lift the toilet seat, kneel before it and see salvation as chunks of Weetabix come pouring out of my mouth, splashing back the holy water at my face.

For a moment, I am not scared. I have not just run from my mother and a grieving family. I am not someone who hides. I’m not connected to the pain that waits for me outside of this cubicle. I am alone, I am safe, and this old wooden door gives me the sanctuary I need to be fine.

If only for a second, I am free.

[kissme-hs]

Sweet love

Here is a sweet Christmas one shot that I hope you all will like. Requests for Christmas imagines are open!! Yayy. So send them in. Plus you know feedbacks are always appreciated <3

Word count :: 1613

You twirled watching your dress lace swirl with you and checked your make up one last time before exiting your house. You heels knocking on the floor as you walked down the stairs of your apartment making your way to the basement where you had your car parked.

A small ding captured your attention. You searched through the clutch you held and pulled your phone out of it. Holding the clutch between your armpit you opened the message.

Where are you love ? Xx

Y/n it’s already 7:01 you were suppose to be here by 7:00 xx

Babeeeee xx

A small giggle left your mouth whilst you read the messages Harry sent you. He invited you for a hose part that he was having including his close friends and family members. A pre-Christmas party he called it.

You opened your car and nestled inside it and the very thing you did was turning on your heater, pulling the red coat closer to your body you smiled to self with the thought of that beautiful boy. He was everything a girl could ask for. Handsome, charming, caring, sweet, gentleman, and what not. It didn’t took a minute for you to fall for him the minute your eyes landed on the man.

In the phrase of your 8 months relationship, you couldn’t find yourself to point out to something that you could rant about related to Harry. Yeah there were some aspects where he annoyed you with his ‘funny’ jokes and tickled your feet with lose fingers. Knowing the fact how much you hate cold feet, he always dragged his cold toe up your warm sweatpants covered legs whenever you too had a night over. Plus not to mention the thing that he always came and stood in front of you so that he was towering you and asked to himself 'where’d my y/n go?’ Because of your small height.

Though it all annoyed you, you secretly loved it too. You always loved how he laughed at his own jokes, you always loved how cold his feet were only making you to hitch your leg over his to warm them up, you loved how he tickled your feet making you giggle, you lived how he always pulled you back to his chest whenever you tried to leave because of his teasing for your short height. You had your loved hidden in every of his action the he did. From sleeping to Dancing absurdly in front of you. You loved him without any doubt. You could take him without any second thought.

You would only if you knew if he felt the same. Only if he too wanted to be more than best friends.

You sighed to self before putting on the gear and driving to Harry’s house.

________

“Jesus what took you so long??!” Harry laughed pulling you to his chest as soon as you stepped on his porch. Pulling you inside while keeping you in his arms he closed the door with his other hand and held you again for a little long. His hands wrapped around your small figure with his cheek pressed to top of your head.

A smile grew on your face when you felt his lips kissing your forehead as your nestled your face further in his red Christmas sweater taking in his scent. He smelled like chocolates and home.

It was true of Marlin Moore that a true gentleman can thrill you by just kissing your forehead. And it did in fact never failed to give you chills whenever he did that. It was such a sweet and a warm gesture of him only making you fall deeper and deeper for him.

“Oh shut up. Ladies take time to dress up” you said pulling away and stood on ur toes a little so you could peck his nose.

“Said right there sweets” you heard Anne saying from behind Harry as she opened her arms and welcomed you with a warm motherly hug. She kisses your cheek and rubbed your arm once you pulled away. You always saw your mum in her. Maybe it was the way she was with you, like a mother. Maybe it was because she sensed the feelings you hide for her son knowing that you’re the perfect one he could find. Maybe.

“Oh yeah ha ha ha” Harry faked laughed rolling his eyes before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to side. You giggles at his childish self before kissing his cheek which he returned by kissing the side of your neck.

The way you two always acted around each other wasn’t the less like a couple nature. You two were always sharing kisses and cuddles and calling each other by names like 'baby’ 'peaches’ 'sweetheart’. And most of the above, you two were always ready to die for each other. The way you two acted generated a question in the minds of all his relatives and your friends. You were always invited to his family and only family gatherings. They always found you by his side in a good way. In a way they sensed the feeling you both shared for each other.

“Well if you both are done, I’d like to have this beautiful woman by my side to help me with the kitchen” Anne said pulling on your arm and dragged you in the kitchen even before you could reply.

“Mummmmmm” you heard Harry called more like whined behind you probably for stealing you away from him making you laugh.

“Your son!” you laughed shaking your head at Anne.

“My son!” Anne said with the same laugh. ________

“Time to dance!!!” You heard Harry in the living room as you walked out to see him putting on some Christmas songs. Soon time of my life started playing and Harry took one of his aunt’s hand and started dancing with her to the beats. Though the song wasn’t really a Christmas one he played it anyways cuz oh that’s Harry.

Your heart swell in the moment. The atmosphere surrounded you was beautiful with the bug Christmas tree illuminated up with laughs and cheers and smell of Christmas pudding filling up the house made you feeling not any less than your own home. The people around you were like a family only. You knew each and every person in the house, from his nieces to his uncles to his grandfather.

They too knew you well. And the truth was they all mentally had accepted you as Harry’s girlfriend and their family member way long back.

“Miss?” You heard some call for you. You turned your head sideways to find Harry’s grandpa holding his hand out for you to dance that you gladly accept. He was old and wrinkly and one of the cutest man ever. He was the only one who once told you who believed that you and Harry belong together and since then you’ve been praying his words come true.

You giggled and danced with him moving sideways to the song. Harry was quick to watch you Dancing with his best man, a wide grin so reach across his face seeing your head thrown back laughing as his grandfather twirled you around. The happiness that you had made him I’ll with happiness too. And most of above with love that was building up inside him since the day he saw you.

He was in love with you as simple as that. He was smitten with you. You were his day and his night and one of the reason he woke up everyday just to see you. When he felt like his world was going to be lonely forever you came and filled his empty life with love. You bloomed his life like a flower wanting to bloom but having no reason to do so.

And he couldn’t thank you enough for that. All he wanted to do was to pull you too him and kiss you declaring you his in front of his family and cousins who always teased him with your name and wanted to prove them right too.

So he walked to you both with a heavy heart and pulled you both away. He cleared his throat before looking at his grandmother.

“She’s mad you dint Dance with her pa” Harry said.

“Oh well. I must say your love is one of a beautiful woman Harry, oh of course not more than mine” his grandfather giggled before resting your hand in Harry’s an making his way to his wife.

His words made you shiver. And so did Harry. He kept his gaze at you as you both swayed sideways softly to the song playing in background hardly paying attention to it.

“He’s not wrong you know” Harry whispered in your ear as he pulled you close to him.

“You are my love” he whispered before pressed a lingering kiss to ear as he kept swaying sideways. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you to his chest.

You were lost in the moment. You just wanted to soak in the feeling, scared that it might turn out to be a dream.

“I love you y/n” Harry whispered finally. And your head shot up to have a look of his face. And before you knew, his lips were on yours. Kissing your lips ever so softly, he held your chin. You could hear his cousins whistling in back.

Kissing him was magical. Truly magical. His lips were soft like cotton and sweet like honey. And you never wanted it to end but you had to pull away to answer him.

“I love you too Harry. And thanks for hanging the mistletoe” you said giggling as you remembered the last time he kisses you was because of the mistletoe.

"Wasn't the mistletoe this time but my sweet love you my baby"

[better-not-said]

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Ophelia’s eyes are focused outside, watching the freezing rain blow sideways across the parkway.  Her father is confident in his driving skills, despite living in California for the past 13 years.

“I grew up driving in this rubbish,” Joe Dunphee had announced as they climbed into their rental car, the wind pelting the rain against the windows.

They’ve almost arrived and Ophelia is still shaking with nerves.  She feels as though the wind from outside has reached the depths of her entire being, tearing through her, destroying everything in its path.  She’s left hollow inside, feeling so fragile that one wrong move and she might fall apart.

Her dad pulls the car up beside his brother’s and they all climb out, hurrying across the parking lot and into the old folks’ home. Ophelia shoves her clammy hands in the pockets of her jacket, a hundred different scenarios running through her mind as the Dunphee’s are led to a rec room where Leo is this morning.  Ophelia bumps into Harper who’s come to a halt behind her parents.  Ophelia steps to the side, knowing exactly what she’ll see.

The Horan’s are there already, standing in disbelief, eyes flickering between Leo Dunphee and Edward Horan, sitting together on a couch, golf on the TV in front of them.

“What’s going on here?” Ophelia’s father huffs.

Niall takes a seat between the two older gentlemen, leaning his elbows on his knees.  Ophelia walks past her family to take a seat in an open chair.

“You two set this up?” Bobby Horan realizes.

“Just listen to them,” Niall pleads.

Both their families get as comfy as they can be in such an unpleasant situation.  Ophelia can see her father and her uncle look completely distressed by the whole thing and she has to focus to swallow the lump in her throat.

Leo and Edward share their story.  It’s short and simple; they’ve been friends for over 50 years.

“Did you tell them to say this?” Nicholas directs at his niece.

Ophelia can’t find her words. “N-no.”

“O’course not!” Niall howls and the two families begin to talk all at once.

Ophelia slumps down in her chair, her eyes meeting Niall’s, and they share an exasperated look.

It’s then that Ophelia notices the leather book in Edward Horan’s lap.  He lifts it and hands it over to his grandson who flips it open.  The bickering dies down and all eyes focus on Niall as he scans the pages.  

“There, that’s us,” Leo points, looking over Niall���s shoulder.

“Oh, this one.  That was on our trip to Scotland,” Edward reminisces.

“You guys did a lot together,” Niall murmurs, the corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile.  

Everyone stares at each other, in complete awe at the fact they’ve been lied to for 50 years.  Ophelia can feel her palms sweating as she awaits a reaction from somebody.

Her mother is the first to move, stepping closer to see the photo album.  Harper follows, indulging in her curiosity.

“Here,” Niall hands her the book and stands up, allowing Harper to take his seat.  He walks over to Ophelia while their families pass the book around, occasionally asking about a picture or two.

Ophelia heaves out a breath.  She feels Niall’s hand come down to rub softly at her shoulder, still covered in her jacket.  She’s still shaking, watching the scene before her with unwavering eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nicholas asks, a hint of resentment lacing his tone.

“It’s complicated,” Leo Dunphee sighs. “On the one hand, we wanted what was best for our families.  At the end of it, though, we realized maybe that wasn’t what was best.”

“Both pubs gained popularity as the rivalry grew stronger...but it tore two wonderful families apart,” Edward explains. “There’s no reason the pubs can’t co-exist.”

“And a reconciliation between the pubs will likely generate more publicity,” Leo adds.

“That’s...a lot to think about,” Nicholas murmurs.

“What!?” Ophelia sits forward. “It’s not that difficult!”

“Ophelia Jane!” her mother, Fawn wails. “This is not your place.”

“How about we enjoy lunch today and discuss this further at another time?” Bobby suggests. “We could host dinner at ours...say on Sunday evening when the pubs are closed?”

“That sounds very reasonable,” Ophelia’s father agrees. “C’mon, Dad, let’s go get some lunch.”

***

“They seem to really enjoy each other,” Leo muses, his younger granddaughter sitting beside him at the table the Dunphees and Horans have dined at.

“Yeah, they do,” Harper smiles, watching her cousin feed Niall a piece of chocolate chip cookie, thinking nobody is watching them. He and Ophelia had gotten up from the table and headed over to the dessert buffet for one last bite of something sweet.

“I’ve seen such a change in him since they met,” Maura sighs wistfully. “He’s had a tough time since Greg moved back to Ireland but...she’s brought out the best in him.”

“Yeh, he’s smilin’ again,” Bobby agrees.

“Ophelia’s had quite the attitude shift as well,” Joe Dunphee huffs.  His wife Fawn shakes her head.

“Quite disobedient.  She’s never been like this,” Fawn sighs.

“Well, you gave her reason to feel the need to hide this from you,” Maura points out.

“With good reason, yes!” Joe nods. “After what happened to Blake, we just wanted to protect her.”

Blake turns at the sound of his name, his eyes growing wary.

“I sure hope you’ve talked some sense into that boy. Niall’s certainly learned his lesson; I hope Blake has, too,” Bobby rustles.

“Lesson?  My son got sent to A&E three days before his rugby tournament,” Nicholas yelps.

“Did he fail to mention he sent our son into A&E for 12 stitches on the back his head?” Maura frowns.

Ophelia and Niall hear the voices rising and they start slowly making their way back to the table, unsure if it’s a good idea to approach their families.

“Blake, is that true?” his mum Lena asks.

Blake stares into his coffee. “Yeah, ‘s true.”

“Why did you lie, son?” Nicholas asks.

He shrugs. “Didn’t wanna seem like the bad guy.”

“We were both the bad guy,” Niall says, slumping back down into his seat. “It was a mad scrap.  Just...we got drunk and got outta line.”

“It shouldn’t even be a matter of discussion anymore,” Blake shakes his head. “It’s done with.”

Niall nods in agreement, looking around the table. “If we can move past that, you guys can get past this.”

***

“Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.  If I told you, you’d not want to go,” Niall squeezes Ophelia’s hand, pulling her along the busy street.

He had surprised her that Saturday morning at the doorstep of the flat her family is staying in during their visit to England. Ophelia hadn’t seen Niall since they parted ways at the old folks’ home in Brighton two days ago, but it had felt like a week apart.

She hurries to keep up with his long strides and soon, they’re walking up to a large cream-colored building with excessive brown trim.

Ophelia barely reads the word Liberty before Niall tugs her inside.  They weave through shoppers, past counters selling various things, through different rooms displaying different brands.  When they reach a room filled with sparkling jewelry, Ophelia has a guess at what’s going on.  She expects prickles of fear to creep up her spine but instead, she feels excitement begin to fill her up.

Niall stops at a counter where a woman is busy speaking with another customer.

“You ready to get your ears pierced?” he asks, smiling down at Ophelia who is already beaming.

“You set all this up?” She is in awe of him.  He didn’t have to do this for her but he knows how happy it’ll make her, how much it means to her.

“‘S all paid for and everything.  Just gotta pick out the earrings you want,” Niall hums, pressing his lips to her hairline.

“Thank you,” Ophelia smiles.  Niall nods, giving her a quick kiss.

Niall holds her hands as she gets each ear pierced, a beautiful small earring placed perfectly.  Ophelia’s eyes tear up as she admires them in the mirror.

“Happy?” Niall asks her, his eyes meeting hers in their reflection.

Getting her ears pierced and wearing earrings contains a much bigger meaning for Ophelia.  In her eyes, this simple act is just the beginning of her taking charge of her own life.  She is finished seeking the approval of her parents.  From now on, she is putting herself first.  She’ll show them she is strong and she can be independent. Looking at her brand new earrings, Ophelia has never felt more powerful.

“So happy.”

***

“Come on in,” Maura gestures to Ophelia who steps inside the Horan’s home with a bounce in her step.  Fawn and Joe Dunphee follow their daughter with much more hesitance. Maura is a gracious host, offering to hang up everybody’s coats.  Ophelia has always liked Maura.  She looks for the best in people and she can tell that the small Irish woman is really trying to make this work.  It makes Ophelia’s teeth grind, knowing the reluctance comes from her side of the family.

She can see that her cousins and their parents have already arrived, their coats all hanging up.  To confirm her suspicions, Blake’s laughter drifts down the hall only to be quickly overshadowed by Niall’s howling laugh.  She’s happy to find that they’re getting along after everything that’s happened but when she steps into the large kitchen, the tension surrounds her like water, cold and heavy against her skin.  Ophelia decides to ignore the way her aunt and uncle are awkwardly standing opposite Bobby Horan, and she drifts over to Niall, giving him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.  The two of them decided not to shy away from their families.  They want them all to know that no matter what their families decide, they’re going to be together.

“Has she noticed yet?” Niall asks Ophelia quietly, his fingertip just barely brushing along her earlobe, still a little tender from being pierced yesterday.

“Nope.”

“Still love them?” he wonders.

“Still love them,” Ophelia hums.

***

Dinner had gone surprisingly well. Bobby Horan cooks a mean Sunday roast. Wine was consumed and conversation remained relatively light. Ophelia was impressed by her father and her uncle who remained on their best behavior while discussing thoughts and plans for the future of the two pubs. She was surprised how little they spoke about the pubs. They agreed on comfortably co-existing on their opposing ends of Tide Pool Lane for the time being and then the conversation drifted to golf...again. Ophelia owes her gratitude to that damn sport’s entire existence. The common ground made the night much easier.

After dessert and more enthralling conversation, the families decided it was time to part ways. Ophelia grabbed her bag from her family’s rental car and hopped into the passenger seat of Niall’s old standard.

Half an hour later, she finds herself in her pajamas, her face free of the minimal make-up she’d put on for the evening. The buzz from all the wine she had that night is starting to wear off, her eyes growing heavy as Niall lazily strums his guitar at the end of the bed.

“Tonight went well,” she hums, her fingertips toying with the pillowcase beneath her head.

Niall pauses his strumming, resting his arm on the body of the guitar and propping his chin on the back of his hand. “I can’t believe we’re doing it,” he speaks, his head bobbling up and down with the movement of his scruffy jaw. “Bringing peace to our families. Feels good, like a weight’s been lifted.”

Ophelia nods, unable to fully understand how Niall feels. He’s lived with this feud hanging over him his entire life. Ophelia hadn’t known about it till she arrived in England twelve days ago.

She decides to change the subject.

“That song you played...on New Year’s Eve, the new one...can you play it for me?” Ophelia asks, crossing her legs at her ankles beneath the sheets.

“The Tide?” Niall checks, sitting up straight again. Ophelia nods. “‘S about us, ya know?”

“I thought so,” she admits.

“I wrote most of it in my head while you were making that painting of me...” Niall tells her. “Some parts I made up to fill in some gaps but...for the most part, it’s about us.”

“I’d like to hear it again,” Ophelia smiles softly.

Niall complies and begins to play. This version is a bit more languid than when he played it live at the pub but it’s just as powerful.

When he finishes, Ophelia is still smiling at him.

“I’m going to need a recording of that before I go back to California,” she says. As soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes the reality behind them. She is flying home in two days.

From the look on Niall’s face, he is just realizing this, too.

He leans over to set his guitar in its stand before slipping under the duvet beside Ophelia, pulling her into his arms.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” she breathes as anguish takes up residency in her heart.  There’s nothing in California for her anymore.  She’s done with school; she can quit her job at the gallery in LA.

“The gallery,” she breathes.

“Wha’?” Niall’s eyebrows knit together.

“The gallery here in London wants me to do a solo show this summer,” Ophelia’s eyes light up and Niall’s heart swells.  He wants her to always look this hopeful, to always have a dream in her eyes. “Think how much easier it’ll be to be located here.”

“It’s expensive, Ophelia, you know that,” Niall reminds her. “You know I believe in you but do your parents?  You’re going to have to work hard if your parents aren’t going to support this.” He smoothes some hair away from her eyes which are still aglow.

“I want to do this.  I want to be here...with you.”

Niall’s lips form into a smile and he nods before a fleeting thought crosses his mind.  No...he couldn’t possibly suggest that.  They’ve known each other for twelve days.  Niall feels as though this is where Ophelia’s meant to be.  Before she had arrived, Niall felt like he was swimming in circles, going nowhere.  Now, his path is clear and he won’t stray from it, no matter how rough the water gets.

“What if,” he adjusts his position nervously.  She can’t possibly agree to this. “What if you...lived here?”

“Here?  With you?”

“It’s where you said you wanted to be,” Niall points out.

Ophelia’s heart feels as though it might tear through her chest.  Her bloodstream is fizzling once again this evening.  This time, it’s not an aftereffect of alcohol.  Niall just has that effect on her.

“D-do you have room for me?”

“O’course I do!” Niall laughs. “I’d love for you to live here.”

Ophelia’s smile is impossible to ignore and Niall leans forward to give her a kiss.

“Just think about it,” he tells her. “There are still a lot of other factors.”

Niall’s right but Ophelia feels so strongly about him that it doesn’t matter to her if their parents accept her decision or not. All that matters is the two of them and if all they end up with is each other, then that is perfectly okay with them.

***

Tuesday morning comes way too quickly.  Ophelia stands outside Niall’s building’s front door, the sun barely beginning to show itself.  Something inside of her believes the longer she waits to say goodbye, the longer she’ll remain in England.  This is just simply not true.  Her plane will take off at 10:40am regardless of how long she stands outside Niall Horan’s door.  Tears are beginning to swell in her sleepy eyes as her finger presses the buzzer. She waits and waits before finally, his crackly voice comes over the intercom.

“C’mon in,” he says.  Ophelia knows she’s woken him up but this is her only chance to say goodbye.

She makes her way inside and up the stairs to his flat. The door is already unlocked, awaiting her arrival.  Ophelia opens and closes it quietly, locking it behind her.  Niall is just settling back in his bed, fixing up the pillows beside him so Ophelia can sit down.  She sheds her coat and shoes before shuffling across the floor to climb into the bed. The paper she’s carrying drops onto Niall’s lap and she curls up into his chest, his left arm wrapping around her, bringing her close.

“Wha’s this?” he asks, his fingertips lifting the paper.

“It’s us,” Ophelia murmurs, her cheek finding a delightful spot upon his chest where she can feel the warmth of his skin seeping into hers.

Niall’s eyes take in the painting before him.  Two figures are in the center, simple black lines show them sitting together.  Despite the minimal detail, he can tell the boy and the girl are enthralled by each other. The boy is highlighted with hints of yellow while Ophelia gave accents of a sea green color to the girl. Surrounding them are tons of little dots of red and orange.

“It’s us?” he whispers.

“Mhmm,” Ophelia closes her eyes, embracing the moment for as long as it’ll last. “Those are California poppies.  There’s a whole field of them.  We’ll have to go someday when it’s sunny, or else they won’t be open.”

“We will,” Niall confirms. “I promise.” He leans down and presses an unsuspecting kiss to Ophelia’s lips.  She responds, deepening it, not knowing when she will see him next.

All too soon, Niall pulls away.

“I’ve sent you an e-mail with a recording of The Tide,” he tells her as she melts into his chest once more.

“It’s all I’m going to listen to on the plane,” Ophelia admits.  Niall chuckles quietly, giving her shoulder a squeeze.  “Mum noticed my earrings.  She likes them.  Said it was kind of you to take me to have it done.”

“I’m glad,” Niall murmurs, his lips kissing her hairline. 

“Do you have a title?  For the painting?” he wonders after a moment.  Ophelia glances down at the painting she created a few nights ago. Her mind wanders back to the night they met, inside the Irish pub at the end of the street, where they lost track of time, where Niall ignored her family name and let himself become enthralled by her.

Ophelia’s lips lift in a small smile, remembering that night so clearly.

“Tide Pool Lane.”

[andrewfoleywritesthings]

Absolutely Gardnersonsonson, Jr. III and the Tomb of Annihilation, Week 3

I’ve been playing D&D again for the first time in a few years. I missed it more than I realized. After yesterday’s session I wrote the following recap in character as Absolutely “Abso” Gardnersonson Jr. III, a great-nephew of Siege of Dragonspear’s Glint “Three-Eyes” Gardnersonson:

Dear Mum — There was a plan, of that much I’m certain. I’m not sure what happened to it, but fear not! All turned out for the best. It’s my turn at watch + I’m bored. I woke WELYN up – he’s usually fairly entertaining, but alas, he seems even more determined to sleep than usual. So I write to you, my favourite mother, instead. After saving scores of people at the TEMPLE OF TYMORA from a veritable horde of skeletons + zombies, I + each of my friends received a jug of a delightful mead-like beverage I may have partaken slightly too much of. My cleric friend VICCI was also given a potion of some sort. I want to drink it. While this was happening, we observed a fellow observing us. As soon as he realized we’d observed his observation (I think my waving to him might have given it away), this fellow vanished before our very eyes! It was quite a thing to see, and then not see, if you get my meaning. A different fellow, who turned out to be ESHEK, ACOLYTE OF SAVRAS, showed up, looking like he drank more tench than I was about to. He told Vicci we should seek the “Wise Guardian of Oralunga, east of Maballa”. Eshek then proceeded to sober up at unprecedented speed + promptly forgot what he’d done the last 12 hours. We escorted Eshek to Savras’ temple in the northern part of PORT NYARANZARU, where we consulted with the temple’s leader, GRANDFATHER Z’TEMBE. We told the good Grandfather we sought the necromantic device responsible for the DEATH CURSE. He told us he would seek wisdom from his god – I think Savras is a god, if not She’s most likely a goddess – and that we should return the next day to receive that wisdom. We bought the supplies we needed from the Souk + saw dinosaur races. Welyn won some gold, Sanna lost some. I broke even, because I didn’t have enough gold to gamble with + besides, gambling w. gold’s silly. You can buy things w. gold, like Chultan leather armor, which I actually had just bought, which is why I had no gold to gamble w. Then back to our quarters at the House of Repose. Well, I went to our quarters. I’d had perhaps a little too much tench in the previous hours. My friends, on the other hand, met the vanishing fellow from Tymora’s temple, whose name is ROKA. Which reminds me of Aunt Cousin Mathilda’s almond roka. That is my favourite roka. This new roka is my fourth favourite roka, at best. I’m still not sure what to make of him. I rid myself of the tench, but could not shake a stench. If you ever have the opportunity to smell turtle man slurry, I highly recommend you find someone else to take it. Unfortunately, the tortle slurry was MUDCRAW – you remember, the one who did the thing with his head that was going to guide us? He had a room down the hall from our own. When I examined his shell, I discovered a medallion of the OTEMKA (triceratops) SOCIETY – an organization everyone in Chult seems to know about despite the fact that it’s damnably hard to get anyone to talk about. The medallion is a curious item to have found – apparently the Society usually leaves them as a warning prior to doing something as harsh as melting someone inside their shell. Perhaps a new recruit was a little overeager, like Old Shine was w. the basilisk (I still can’t believe he did that + survived!) (!!!). I learned about the Otemka Society from Roka, who, as I said, had made arrangements w. my friends. Those arrangements turned out to revolve around me – They agreed that I would create a distraction at the Flaming Fist’s Fort Something or Other (forgive me, Mum, the tench has made this a little blurry). This distraction would lure those inside the main keep outside, allowing Roka to sneak into the keep to perform a service for his employers. This Roka’s a cagey fellow. Despite some stunningly clever questioning of him by me, I couldn’t determine who Roka’s employers are. This seemed to make me more uneasy than it does my friends – how often does that happen? Before we rendezvoused w. Roka, we returned to the Temple of Savras, where Grandfather Z’tembe told us he’d been blessed w. a vision of a jungle city far to the south. This city, according to him, is surrounded by cliffs + filled w. snakes. Like, a lot of snakes. In the city there is a black obelisk, shrouded in vines. He believes we were right to seek the Death Curse’s source in Chult. Actually, it was our employer SINDRA SILVANE who was right, but that’s neither here nor butter. Despite my misgivings, I agreed to take part in Roka’s scheme. In exchange we would be provided w. a FLAMING FIST charter of Chultan passage, as well as the services of 2 experienced guides should we succeed in aiding Roka in accomplishing his mysterious goals. The journey to Fort Thingie took longer than expected. During it we encountered a wild dinosaur at unnervingly close range + saw 3 aaracokra – I remember Huzzah! telling me of such birdmen when he returned from the east last midwinter. They sounded most interesting, but alas they kept their distance, a distance too distant for me to get to know them to any useful degree. We arrived at Fort Whatsit + examined the area, determining that the best option to pull people from the keep would be to free the horses – the first horses we’d seen since arriving in Chult, mind you. It seemed a good idea at the time. Before executing our cunning plan, we scoped out the keep I mean we got our charter from the CASTELLAN in the keep. While there I located a bell rope that, through an act of supreme gnomish will, I managed not to pull. For a time. Having received our charter, it was agreed that we should execute our clever scheme. Vicci got the horses worked up, convincing them their imminent future involved a glue factory. After that I slapped some rumps + got them stampeding – as much as seven horses can stampede – out of the stable. Having freed the horses, I made my way into the keep to ensure the plan had worked. SANNA accompanied me in this effort. She’s a good sort for a barbarian and certainly some sort for a halfling. The plan had, in fact, not worked. Realizing the hold was far from empty, we made our way to the bottom of the belltower + closed the door. Sanna + I had a minor disagreement over our course of action, which, despite her best efforts, involved my pulling the bell rope twice before being pulled away from the bell rope by force. Sanna wanted to drag me from the keep, but that wasn’t going to work – the Fists that remained inside, including the Castellan, were upon us in an instant. I thought quickly because there was no time to think any other way. “The horses!” I screamed. “They’ll kill us! They’ll kill us all!” My performance was pitch perfect + Sanna’s got the job done. Rather than killing or confining us in the stockade, we were escorted from Fort Thatplaceoverthere. I don’t know what happened to Vicci + Welyn while Sanna + I executed the plan I’m reasonably sure we all agreed upon, but by late afternoon we found them back where we’d stored the canoe. Did I mention we rode a canoe most of the way to the fort? We did. I slept under it. Comfy. Around midnight Roka returned to the canoe. He advised me not to return to the fort. I’ve already seen the fort + frankly, outside of the bell + the dinosaur pen, it has little to recommend it, so why would I want to return? Other than to give the Flaming Fist the half of whatever treasure we discover. I wonder if the Castellan would rather see me less than she would like to see half of whatever we manage to procure, assuming we manage to procure anything other than mad monkey fever. Our group has adopted the name Mad Monkey Fever, by the way. Did I tell you that earlier? Well if I didn’t, we did. Mad Monkey Fever, that’s us. Come morning we’ll begin the journey back to Port Nyanzaru. There, Roka will introduce us to his guide friends, whose services on our behalf he’s agreed to pay for. Yawn. I believe my time watching over the party is nearing an end. I’ll wake Vicci in a moment, but first, there’s something I must get off my chest: As a rule death doesn’t worry me overmuch, but as a rule death is not so permanent as current circumstances have made it. For the first time in my life I’m more afraid to die than I am to live – I can think of nothing less gnomish than that. I can’t let the others know, of course. As their leader they rely on me to keep their morale up – I must show no fear + so I shan’t. But I am afraid, Mum. Afraid I may not see you or Huzzah! or cousin Bent or Auntie Beryl or any of my friends other than the friends I have w. me now ever again. The other options available suit me even less than this one I’ve chosen, however. So I shall keep marching forward, putting one foot before the other as I continue walking this path we call ADVENTURE! Love, your favourite son, Absolutely Post-script – I got one of those feather cloaks I told you about in my last letter! (I think Vicci actually looks better in hers, but I’d never tell her that. Her head’s quite big enough as it is.)

[theazkabandreamer]

A Furry Little Problem

This is my second story about how James, Sirius and Peter worked out how Remus was a Werewolf.

Ever since they met a year ago, James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew never failed to notice that Remus Lupin seemed to disappear every month.

Every time he was asked about it, Remus would come up with excuses that would get more and more far fetched as time went by.

"Blimey, Remus!" Exclaimed Sirius in the Gryffindor Common Room one evening after Remus had told them that his Great Uncle Reginald had died and he had to go to his funeral. "First your mum getting ill, then your faithful pet tortoise, Alan, snuffs it. Now this. You have one tragic life, don't you?"

Remus went red and muttered something about a long illness before returning to his Charms homework.

"He doesn't mean it like that, mate." Said James quickly. "It's just that you've been disappearing quite a lot. We've been worried about you."

"We are." Peter nodded vigorously as Remus scowled.

"Well you can stop worrying about me!" He snapped. "I'm fine!"

"All right. All right." Said Sirius placatingly "No need to bite our heads off."

Remus stood up abruptly, knocking his Charms Homework to the floor.

"I'm going to bed." He said shortly before storming to the boys Dormitories.

Sirius stared after him open mouthed. "What was all that about?" He demanded of the other two.

James shrugged. "Dunno." He said. "But somehow, I get the feeling that what you said was pretty…well…..tactless."

Peter stared at James in shock while Sirius looked at James as if he had grown two heads.

"You're lecturing me about tact when you display none whatsoever in front of Lily Evans?" he growled in a low dangerous voice.

James was not listening, however. A flash of dark, red hair moved past him as Lily Evans made her way to the Girls Dormitories. James stared at her, face set and he quickly ruffled up his hair as he stood up.

"Oi, Evans!" He hollered. "Fancy a ride with me on my new Broom?!"

A number of older students laughed at James as Lily Evans looked at him with intense dislike.

"Just because you made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, doesn't mean that I'm going to swoon all over you, Potter." She hissed. Bright green eyes flashing. "And you want to be careful,." She added. "I'm not sure if your Broomstick would be able to take the weight of your large head."

And with that, she turned on her heel and disappeared up to the girls Dormitories with a flash of dark red hair. James sat back down fuming. His face bright red as laughter erupted around him.

"See what I mean?!" Sirius grumbled to Peter. "No tact whatsoever and the attention span of a Flobberworm to boot."

Peter looked as if he was trying his hardest not to speak his mind.

The next month progressed as usual. James was busy with Quidditch practice almost every night, Sirius let a Dungbomb off in the Third floor corridor and narrowly avoided detention after hiding behind a suit of armour as the new caretaker, Argus Filch came wheezing around the corner and James caused Severus Snape's Cauldron to explode in Potions after he tried to hex James.

"Did you see his face?" Chortled Sirius after they left the Dungeons. "It's like that time he was confronted with shampoo! The greasy haired git!".

Remus, however started to look pale again and James and Sirius's concerns were answered when he told them that one of his Great Aunts (Ethlewalda) was on her deathbed and he needed to see her.

"Is your family cursed or something?" Sirius asked, worriedly in the Gryffindor Common Room one evening. "You seem to be getting a lot of illnesses and deaths, lately."

"I don't have time for this, Sirius." Remus sighed warily before walking off and climbing out of the portrait hole.

Sirius caught James's eye, ready to share the exasperated look whenever Remus was acting odd. However, James seemed to be deep in thought. It was so unlike him. He was usually the life and soul of the Common Room whilst trying to show off in front of Lily Evans most of the time.

"You want to be careful, mate." Sirius grinned. "Thinking's quite dangerous for those who aren't used to it." James shot him a glare.

"I'm worried about Remus." He said in a low voice.

"I noticed. You're so worried about him that you've neglected to chat up Evans. She'll be missing you at this rate."

James ignored him.

"It's weird. The way he keeps disappearing once a month. I think he's hiding something."

Sirius nodded grimly. "You know. I've had a theory about this, for a while but I wasn't sure if I should tell you. I mean it's not an accusation I'm comfortable about spreading around. He is one of my best mates, after all."

He looked around the Common Room but people were too busy to pay them any attention. Lily Evans was chatting with her friends and showing no signs whatsoever that she missed James chatting her up. Peter was in detention after receiving a T on his last piece of Transfiguration Homework.

Sirius lowered his voice. "It's full moon tonight. I've always noticed that he starts acting strangely on the week leading up to full moon."

James stared at Sirius, open mouthed. "A-are you saying what I think you're saying?" He gasped. "Because if you are, then I've been having the same suspicions as well."

Sirius nodded grimly.

"He must be." He muttered. He looked around the Common Room again, before leaning his head closer to James. "I think he is." He whispered the last words. "He's A Werewolf."

Silence fell between the two as James stared at Sirius, open mouthed and in a state of shock.

Finally, after several minutes of stunned silence, James found his voice again.

"Are you sure?" He choked.

"Positive." Said Sirius. "I've been doing some research in the library-"

"I thought you said you were allergic to books?" James interrupted.

"This is our friend we're talking about!" Sirius snapped. "Anyway, I've been doing some research in the library. He's always been ill on the week leading up to full moon. I've been checking the lunar charts and it all fits, James. As much as I hate to say it: Our friend Remus Lupin, is a Werewolf."

James let out a low whistle and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Merlin's Beard." He breathed. "A Werewolf? At Hogwarts? Wow!"

"'Wow' pretty much sums it up." Sirius remarked.

"I'd bet that Dumbledore must've made special arrangements for him." James said slowly.

"Yeah. Must've been that Whomping Willow. My cousin, Andromeda, the one who's married to that Muggle born, Ted Tonks. They're expecting their first child. Anyway, she was quite surprised when I had written to her about it. She said it definitely wasn't there when she was at Hogwarts. It must've been planted when we arrived at Hogwarts last year. Still. You'd think he would've told us."

"I can't imagine that many of the parents would be pleased if they knew their kids were going to school with a Werewolf." James muttered.

"You should hear my Mum talk about them." Said Sirius darkly. "Honestly, the way she goes on about them, you'd think they're vermin. Says they're not fit to lick the dirt of her shoes. Mind you I told her that no decent human being would want to lick the dirt off her shoes. You should've seen her face."

James gave Sirius a reluctant grin.

"But Remus is alright." James muttered. "I mean, he wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"Not now. But as a Werewolf, it's a different matter. He would literally bite our heads off in his Werewolf form. Which explains why he got so touchy last month."

They both lapsed into silence with both boys deep in thought.

"Sirius." James said suddenly. "This won't change things, will it? Our friendship with Remus."

Sirius gave James a sharp look.

"What? Because Remus is a Werewolf?" He snapped. "Of course not! What about you?"

James gave him a determined look.

"Never." He said. "Remus is still Remus. It's not his fault he's a Werewolf."

Sirius looked relived.

"I'm really glad you said that," He said. "Because I was worried about how you would react."

"Well, I've put up with you for the past year despite you being a Black so how bad can it be?" James grinned which Sirius returned.

They lapsed once more into thoughtful silence. James then suggested that they should get on with their Transfiguration homework.

The next morning, Sirius showed James the lunar charts and his research. To his complete surprise, James had compiled notes on the very same thing.

"As I said last night, I had my own suspicions," he shrugged. "and I'm not allergic to books like you are." He shot Sirius a cocky grin which Sirius responded with a rude hand gesture.

They wasted no time in telling Peter about their suspicions about Remus and showing him the lunar charts. Peter's face paled and his watery eyes darted from James to Sirius.

"A-a Werewolf?" He squeaked. "B-but he can't be! He told me that his Great Uncle Gunthar had died from Spattergroit!"

"Don't be thick, Peter." Sirius snapped. "That's what he wanted you to believe."

Peter's eyes darted to James.

"James." He breathed. "You don't believe it, do you? Remus can't be a Werewolf, can he?"

James nodded his head and smiled sadly. "Sorry, Peter. The facts speak for themselves, I'm afraid."

"But- We're not going to abandon him are we?" Pater asked slowly.

"Of course we're not." James stated as Sirius shot Peter a glare.

"Don't even suggest such a thing!" Sirius growled. "I'm not a prejudiced bigot like my parents. Remus is my friend!"

"And I would die before I would abandon Remus." James stated with such fierceness, that Peter took a step back. "And besides. It's not his fault. He's just got a…a furry little problem."

Sirius looked at James as if he had been hit by a Bludger. He raised an elegant eyebrow.

"A furry little problem?" He repeated.

"It doesn't matter to me what Remus is," Said James "He could be half Giant for all I care. He's my friend and I'm not going to abandon him. He's your friend, too, Peter" James said looking at Peter with the same fierce expression. "Surely you're not going to abandon him just because of that?"

"N-no of course not!" Peter spluttered. "I-I thought that y-you were going to abandon him!"

"What have you got for brains, Peter? Dung?" Sirius snorted.

Peter shot Sirius a reproachful look.

"So you're with us, then?" James asked. "Because I'll help you with your Transfiguration homework if you are." He added with a sly grin.

"Alright then." Peter said after considering James's offer. "I'm with you."

Remus returned after a few days and continued to look peaky. James, Sirius and Peter decided not to talk to him about his lycanthropy as they didn't want to trouble him yet. They discussed ways of trying to help Remus but it wasn't until James raised the possibility of becoming Animagi, that they made any real progress.

Sirius had roared with laughter when James raised the issue.

"Do you realise how difficult that would be?" He chuckled after he calmed down. "We're Second Years. We don't know enough Transfiguration to work that kind of Magic. All we can do at the moment, is turn animals into water Goblets."

"Oh, come on. Transfiguration is easy." James snorted. "We know it all, anyway. Peter will need all the help he can get but we'll be able to do it no problem."

"I know we get a lecture about Animagi in the Third Year." Sirius said slowly. "Andromeda told me. My Uncle Alphard told me about a friend of his who's Great Grandmother could transform into a Leopard. Said she used to transform at dinner parties and everything. It would be really cool to transform into an animal just like that." He snapped his fingers.

James nodded. "Think of all the fun we can have if we become Animagi." He grinned.

Sirius laughed. "Yeah! It will definitely be worth the risk!"

They told Peter of their plan to become Animagi. Peter wasn't sure at first, but with the promise to help him with his Transfiguration, he agreed.

"Don't worry, Peter." James said to him. "McGonagall will soon be missing you from detention."

"I hope so!" Peter squeaked. "If I see that Ginger Newt tin one more time, I'm going to have to snatch a few when she's not looking!"

Over the next few weeks, James, Sirius and Peter spent their spare time in the Library going over Animagi books in the Transfiguration section.

"This'll take years," Peter moaned one Saturday morning. "Knowing my luck, I'll probably transform into a Worm or a Rat or something."

"If you do transform into a Worm, we can call you Wormy!" Sirius grinned from over his book.

James gave a loud snort of laughter, earning him a severe glare from the librarian, Madam Pince. He continued snorting with laughter after she shuffled off.

"Or if it's a Rat," He chuckled, "How about Wormtail?"

Peter flushed a furious red as James and Sirius both roared with laughter. A number of students gave them irritable looks and Lily Evans's eyes were green slits as she glared at them. Severus Snape sat next to her, scowling at them looking very Vampire like.

"No laughing in the Library!" Barked Madam Pince furiously. "OUT!"

James and Sirius just laughed harder before Madam Pince bewitched their bags to chase them out.

Remus began to look peaky as full moon was approaching again and James and Sirius were debating whether or not if they should tell him that they knew about his lycanthropy.

"We can't keep this from him." Sirius said one night. "We have to let him know that we know."

James ran a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah." He exhaled. "How about we spill the beans when he comes and tells us about another 'death' in his family?"

"Sounds good to me." Peter nodded before Sirius could respond.

Their opportunity came a few days later when one morning in their Dormitory as they got up when Remus suddenly spoke.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to go away for the next few days." He said grimly. "My father's got a Charmed Cheese competition and he needs me to help him. He's already written a note to Dumbledore and I've been excused from lessons."

Sirius and Peter both looked at James. James sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Look, Remus." He said heavily. "We need to talk to you. The thing is…" He hesitated.

"We know you're a Werewolf." Sirius cut in.

Remus's face paled and he took a step back from them.

"How did you know?" He asked in a constricted voice, eyeing them up suspiciously.

James gave Remus an apologetic look. "The lunar charts. The fact that you disappear once a month. You're always looking pale around full moon. We were able to piece everything together, Remus."

Remus looked at them worriedly, mouth hanging open.

"We're not going to abandon you, Remus," Sirius told him. "You don't deserve that."

"Really? You mean that?" Remus looked at Sirius with an odd expression as if Sirius's words were too good to be true.

"Of course we mean that!" Sirius stated fiercely "You're still you, aren't you? It's not your fault! Why should you have to suffer because of that?"

"He's right, Remus." said James. "It's what's on the inside. Not the outside. You could be Half-Giant for all we care and you'd still be you."

James and Sirius looked at Peter pointedly.

"We'll always be friends, Remus." Peter said earnestly.

Remus looked touched. He straightened his robes and turned his back on them to look out the window.

"I've never spoken to anyone about it." He said in a strained voice. "Apart from my parents and Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore knows?" Peter asked, shocked. James and Sirius shook their heads in exasperation.

"Of course Dumbledore knows," Remus laughed. "He is the Headmaster, after all. The whole staff knows, in fact. If it wasn't for Dumbledore, I doubt that I would even be here."

He turned to face them.

"No other Headmaster would've stuck their necks out for me like Dumbledore. I was very young when I received the bite. I think it was before my fifth birthday. My parents tried everything. I remember having to stay indoors because I couldn't mix with other children my age in case they got suspicious and figured out what I was. We always had to move often as well. I never had a permanent home whilst growing up."

"That's terrible." James said sadly. Sirius nodded whilst Peter gave a loud sniff.

"It all changed when Dumbledore turned up on our doorstep one night." Remus continued.

"He said he heard what happened to me. He told me that there was no reason why I shouldn't come to school and that he made special arrangements for me."

"Do you mean that Whomping Willow that was planted last year? The one that nearly poked Davey Gudgeon's eye out? " Sirius asked. Remus shot him a look of surprise.

"My cousin Andromeda says it wasn't planted at Hogwarts when she was there." Sirius shrugged, answering Remus's unasked question.

"There's a secret passage under the Willow that leads me to a house in the Village. There, I am separated from humans to bite so I bite and scratch myself instead." Remus said solemnly.

"Does it hurt?" James asked. "When you transform?"

Remus nodded sadly.

"Every time." He said. "It is very painful to transform into a Werewolf. I have to rest a few days afterwards."

James and Sirius exchanged glances while Peter looked between the two, confused. Sirius nodded and James spoke.

"Listen, Remus we don't want you to be alone while you transform." James said tentatively.

"What are you talking about?" Remus frowned. "Do you know how ridiculous you sound? If you happen to be with me when I'm a fully grown Werewolf, I would kill you all! And it doesn't matter of you happen to be my best friends! It won't make any difference!"

For the first time, James, Sirius and Peter could see the shadow of the wolf on Remus's face as he glared at them, breathing heavily.

"You can't help me." Remus finished "So don't even think of suggesting anything as stupid as that because if I kill you, I'll never forgive myself"

Remus snatched his bag up angrily and made his way to the Dormitory door.

"No! Remus, wait!" James called. "We've found a way to keep you company!"

Remus froze, his hand on the door handle. He slowly turned to face them once more.

"What do you mean?" He asked shrewdly.

James and Sirius explained all about the Animagi research that they were doing during their spare time.

"Since Werewolves only go for humans, we'd be safer with you if we transformed into animals." Sirius finished.

Remus looked impressed by this argument but he gave a small frown.

"Isn't that going to be a bit dangerous, though?" He asked. "You're Second Years. Peter's going to need all the help he can get. We're still doing the Vera Verto spell."

"Oh, come on that's easy." Sirius snorted. "It's all easy. We know it all anyway and James is giving Peter some extra help as well."

"I've got an A on my last piece of Homework." Peter said proudly. "I used to keep getting Ps, Ds and Ts before. McGonagall kept putting me in Detention."

"A vast improvement," Remus noted dryly "I'm not sure if it's a good idea. But I really do appreciate the gesture. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're willing to put your necks out for me, like that. That you're able to accept me for being me. I really can't thank you enough."

"That's what friends are for, Moony" Said James with a cocky grin. Sirius and Peter both groaned at the nickname, but Remus laughed at it.

"Moony?" He chuckled. "How did you think of that one?"

"Dunno," James shrugged. "But I thought it suited you. What with your furry little problem and all."

To their great surprise, Remus roared with laughter. It took a while for him to stop laughing.

"I think it might be more then a 'furry little problem', but I appreciate the sentiment." He chuckled after a minute.

"That's nothing," Sirius grinned. "You should hear what he wanted to call Peter!"

"No! He shouldn't!" Peter snapped as his face reddened again.

"Wormtail is a perfectly brilliant nickname, if I do say so myself." James said proudly. "Now come on. Let's get down to breakfast. I'm starving!"

The four of them made their way down to the Common Room but Remus hung back. A thoughtful expression lingered across his face. James and Sirius made their way to the portrait hole but Peter noticed it.

"Are you alright, Remus?" He asked him. James and Sirius stopped and turned to look at him.

"What?" He said distractedly, snapping back to reality. "Oh yes. I was just thinking. About what Dumbledore said to me when we first met. He said 'that man often spends time in fear of those that they call monsters, but often fails to notice that they, themselves can sometimes turn out be the worst of them all, despite their best intentions' I've been thinking about these words a lot."

"I always thought he was off his codger, old Dumbledore. But he's brilliant if you think about it." Said James.

"Of course he is!" Exclaimed Sirius. "Best Headmaster there is. My parents hate him, of course but I couldn't care less what they think."

"You couldn't care less what anyone thinks." James grinned.

"Dumbledore can see through all the fear and prejudice ."Sirius said thoughtfully. "That's why he let you into Hogwarts. It's like what we said. It's not the outside that counts but the inside."

"I've always been grateful to Dumbledore." Said Remus. "If is wasn't for him, I wouldn't be sure what I would be doing."

"You'll always have us, Remus." James told him. "Friends forever. Until the end."

"You'll never be able to get rid of us" Sirius grinned.

"We have a bond that no one will break." Peter chipped in.

"Thank you." Remus said, touched. "I am truly lucky to have such three incredible friends."

"And we're lucky to have you." Grinned James. "But that's enough chin-wagging for one day. I believe I said I was hungry and then we've got-"

But James fell silent as a flash of dark, red hair went past them as Lily Evans pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and walked down the corridor.

James stared at her for a moment, face set and then messed up his hair and puffed out his chest making him look like an Penguin.

"Oh, Evans!" He sang. "About that Broomstick ride!" He followed Lily out of the portrait hole and ran after her, out of sight. Sirius and Peter exchanged exasperated looks while Remus looked like that he was going to laugh.

"Attention span of a Flobberworm, that one." Sirius told the other two. Remus laughed. "Come on, Moony. It looks like we're going to have to nick some food from the kitchens for James and then we're going to have to grin and bear History of Magic. If you want, I'll try and take notes for you."

And with that, the three friends exited the Gryffindor Common Room to the sound of Lily Evans screaming herself hoarse at James Potter.

[24jnxh]

Life Story #347

Two more months, my dad’s mum must go for her review one more time. This thing is not good news to me, but instead it breaks my heart so deeply. I cannot understand why things keep on happening over again. Even my nightmares, I cannot understand why it is repeated. I thought I could accept the fact that it is happening, but I realize I cannot. Nightmare, dreaming about my grandma passed away, it is the most difficult things in my life that I cannot accept it and cannot understand why it happens. My heart breaks, but I could not voice out to anyone about this part of my life, because I can never imagine what if my nightmare happens in real life, then how deep I will fall. My nightmare has been disturbing me quite long, ever since I knew my grandma having abdominal pain again. I’m also afraid to call her and ask how’s her check-up that day, then I get to realize it is because I’m afraid of losing, afraid of facing the fact of it. People out there always say I’m a brave and strong woman, but am I? I’ve been listening to a song called, “如果我变成回忆.” I’ve told myself, if something truly happens to my dad’s mum, I just want to keep all that we’ve been through, how they accepted me part of their family when I was young, how she always cooks dinner for me when I was young and stay with them when I was 5 till I finished studying K2. Sometimes, I truly feel that memories have flow it out to my mind that I cannot take it at a certain point where I know I needed someone, but I rejected to share with people, because this burden is mine, I rather carry by myself. Even I know there is someone there to listen to me, and I could just call her at any time, but I always refuse and rejected to do so. There are times, I really was at my call list and just one touch on the call logo to call her, but I always suddenly just turn back and not call. My mind just started to tell me, “Your burdens don’t let others carry for you.” Most of the times, I could only cry by myself, and there is nothing I could do anymore. Even just a dial call, I’m also afraid, not afraid the person won’t pick up my call, or probably that could be a little of the reason, but also afraid my burdens will be other people burdens, and afraid the person is busy, and everything then cannot talk as well. Yesterday, at my dad’s mum’s house celebrate Chinese New Year, my grandma says wants to take a picture together with us, and behind she added on, “我们拍完了, 来看我能不能度过今年. 看明年的新年还能不能和你们庆祝.” When she says this, my heart just breaks into million of pieces that I want to cry, but, yet I did not want to cry in front of anyone, not even my grandma, my cousins and my aunts. I can only do is, swallow it down and kept it in my heart. I cannot take it so heavily, but all I did was hiding it by myself. I told myself, don’t cry. Act like a robot, act like some retards that nothing happens, and start laughing crazy with my cousins, and just let people thinks that what my grandma says don’t affect me, but when it does, no one knows because I’m still acting, wearing a mask on my face, pretending I’m fine. Holly, I’m sorry. You wanted to know what happened in two months, I’ve not share with you, because I truly feels that I cannot do it. Lately, wild thoughts running around my mind, running inside my brain that I always step back, and, in the end, I never called you at all. That day I said when I wake up then I share with you, but, in the end, I also did not share with you. After I reply that text, I haven’t gone to sleep yet. It is because I did not know how to share with you, and it is because I don’t want to add more on to you. So, I rather carry everything by myself. You also tired as well, because you have gone back to your late replies, so from then I decided not to share anything with you. That day, I reply you “Thank you for replying. But I will be happy first because it will not last for long.” Do you know why I say this? It is because I see something in you that is, you only 三分钟热度 as what my mum always says that I say things, I will change, but I did, but awhile later I change back to the old-self again. This is what I see in you. Then start to say people different excuses and reason that why it will change back to the old-self and everything. Don’t say no, because this is what I caught with my own eyes on you. So, many times, even I just one touch to call you, I also did not call at all. Lately, I even realize how life is unpredictable. That day when I was fellowship with my leader, she asked me, “Do you intend to find one boyfriend?” I believe it is an open session to share, but I told her not now. And she wonders why? So, I shared with her about my experience I had when I in a relationship and before relationship. Everytime, I sees how my friends treated me when they are in a relationship, I told myself not to be like them as well. I need to know priorities right and not to outcast my friends when I in a relationship as well. But, when I got into relationship, I will just throw my friends aside, and totally ignore them, even they asked me to go out with them or fellowship with them, I will always say I’m not free because I’m going out with my boyfriend. Just same as how my friends treated me as well. So, when I was single, and my friends are in a relationship, I have this sense of fears to ask them out, because they always rejected me, and because of this, my friendship with them, have always drawn away and slowly this friendship disappear. So, I came to ask myself, “What happen if my close friends went into relationship?” Then I realize, if that’s the case, this friendship will be gone, then it will be gone. If they choose to prioritize their relationship above than all, and outcast their friends, no time for their friends, this friendship will eventually end as well. So, I decided to prioritize my life right first, and know what is important to me first, then I’ll go for a relationship. But, now since I know, I also need to change a little of my habits. I’m different from many others. People when they are in a relationship, they will reply their boyfriend first then ignore the friends’ messages, but I’m different. I will reply my friends faster than my boyfriend, because always I feel when reply my boyfriend, I need to think how to reply their message, so they won’t think that I don’t want to talk to them, so I always reply my friends first, then it causes them unhappy. So, I realize, when I concern about afraid reply short to them, they will be unhappy with it and think that I cold talk to them, but when I take longer time to reply, they also don’t like. So, sometimes, I rather not to go into a relationship. But, I’ve prepared for the worst. If all my close friends go into relationship and they ignored the friendship and outcast the friendship, I prepared to end it as well. I truly hate it, when you have boyfriend then ignore me, outcast this friendship, and given all time to your boyfriend, spare no time for me. Then when things badly happen in your relationship with boyfriend, or breakup, then thought of me, call me and share with me everything. Do I deserve all these? Yes, I probably good at listening, but from the start of your relationship, you have decided to outcast me, and treat this friendship doesn’t exist, then why do I have to treat you exist when you met troubles in your relationship? Does it fair to me as well? Do I treat you like this when I’m a relationship? I don’t. But you do. So, I decided if any other friends who want to treat me this way, let me know okay, so I can end the friendship as well just as this friend I had. I don’t want to waste my time on the friendship that you treated it as invisible and treated as I not exist in your life anymore once you in a relationship. Let’s see how many of my friends are like this. And let’s take this time to see who the true friends are truly. It is because, true friends will not be like this. True friends, even they have plan with their boyfriend, but when they know you have problems, they will push back everything just to be there with you and for you. When hang out together with the boyfriend, they will not be romantic just as only the both are together and outcasted you aside. This is true friendship. But, I believe my surrounding friends are fake friends, that I prepare to end the friendship at any point of time already. And I’m here to say that I’m ready to do so, to end this friendship. Life Story World – XH Ng Time Check: 7 Feb 2019/1024am

[canvas-the-florist]

Proselytize - Prologue

I got an idea from a dream so here’s the beginning of that story.

~

"They're after us."

"They're our family! The only people we know! If we run, we'll lose everything!"

"We can't stay here! Look what's happening to them! They can't control their actions and I think they might maul our eyes out next time we look away..."

~

The day three families inherited their great-grandparents' mansion was the day the children had to leave. Sure, the house was beautiful and well maintained, along with guaranteeing a mean game of hide and seek... Something was off.

Like the water hesitating just a bit before running whenever you turned a faucet, but only when you're looking at it. Or the way you ALWAYS trip on the third to last stair, but only on the way up. But it got worse when the children noticed their parents acting weirder.

Like the fact that they'd hesitate to say their names as if they've never known the name existed, and always seeming to speak without making noise whenever a kid was in earshot. Or the fact that the eyes of the adults would turn grayer and darker the longer you talked to them.

Something was going on and the kids were not going to stick around and find out.

~

Adults are odd. They'll talk in shushed whispers whenever something happens, even if it's positive or a slight inconvenience. Joey sighed and leaned back in his chair. His mother and father were doing that weird thing; They were pretending not to talk about him but peer over at him every single minute. Suspicious, but because he's a child, no one would take notice of what he sees. As a fifteen-year-old, Joey would at least hope they would stop pretending the topic isn't about him.

His younger sister, Callie, was more oblivious to it though. She was more carefree and would rather worry about her friends rather than what was going on in their life. Joey knew that being selfless is good, or whatever, but the extreme his sister brought it to made him worry slightly. He walked into her room to check on her.

Callie slammed her laptop shut when the door creaked open and looked up. She let out a visible sigh of relief. "Oh, just you. Sorry, you scared me." Joey raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. His sister looked taken back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What don't you want mum and dad to see?" The older sibling retorted. Callie's face held an awkward smile and sucked in a breath awkwardly. Joey immediately stopped joking around. "You know they don't trust me anyway. What is it?" He closed the door and joined his sister on the ground. 

"Nothing important..." She paused as if realizing that might be taken rudely. "I mean- ugh- Thank you for being here for me, Joey... But I don't want to tell you right now..."

Joey bit his lip but nodded. Before he responded he heard their parents call their names. 

-

Mothers are extreme. Not always, but they can place so much pressure on you that'll make you feel like you're drowning. Or at least, that's what Coral thought as she begrudgingly did her homework at the dining table. As an only child, her moms dotted on her constantly and made SURE she followed through her responsibilities. Well, she appreciated it until her sophomore year. It got to be so extreme that every time she got less than an A she'd be grounded. She just wished she had breathing room sometimes. Her anxiety would act up every single time she had to do homework or freak out at the chance of forgetting something, even if she knew she didn't. All because of the mindset she was taught to have. 

Coral looked up and saw them discussing something in the living room. She let out a frown. They were usually very open with their grievances, this must be something she wouldn't like. Of course... She decided to finish off her homework quickly to see if she could figure out what was happening. Homework, at this point, had gotten much easier but even more annoying. Because now, she had something to reach for afterward and couldn't focus at all. She debated googling the answers but knew that wouldn't benefit her. Especially how her moms were just about twenty steps away from her. 

"Hey, Mom? Mama?" Her parents looked up, mama in the middle of a sentence. Coral suddenly felt her throat close up in fear. Like it got harder to talk to them than ever before. "I finished my homework."

"Okay, but I'm assuming you have more to say to us." Coral looked down at her hands, she didn't even realize she was shaking. Curse mom for being so smart. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"What are you guys talking about? It seems really important..."

The two adults shared a nervous look. Coral gulped, oh no. "Well..."

-

Uncles are irritating. They'll pester you about whatever they assume until you're forced to prove them wrong. Haley and Hiro were trying to avoid the topic of dating, knowing the fact that Haley is a lesbian and Hiro is an asexual aromantic. But of course, the uncle they can't escape wonders if Haley has a secret boyfriend. AND WON'T STOP MENTIONING IT. It's okay, however, because their father told him to back off and let the children sleep. Hiro heard Haley scoff at the word 'children' and Hiro felt himself laugh. Haley punched his shoulder as they made their way to their room. 

"What do you think they're gonna talk about?" Hiro wondered as the door closed. "How gay and successful we are? We both know that Uncle Cole disowned our aunts as family members after they got married... Do you think dad might out us?"

Haley shook her head. "They seem to have something else on their mind right now... Remember how we had to go through our stuff last week? Something is definitely up." The twins gave grim looks. "I'm not really ready for change if that's the case."

They occupied themselves with drawing and reading separately before their uncle's voice called them. Hiro gritted his teeth. He didn't feel like dealing with his homophobic family at the moment. He looked at his twin and they shared a smile. "Are you ready for whatever happens?"

Haley offered her hand. "Perhaps, you?" Hiro nodded and took his sister's hand. 

They both walked out of the room, ready for whatever was going to happen.

-

"Callie? Joey?" Your great-grandparents died, so..."

-

"Good news and bad news, Coral..."

"Good: You won't have to worry about your room being too cold."

-

"Guess who's getting a new house, you guys?"

"Well, at the expense of death..."

-

"We're moving in with your cousins."

~