#and how your earliest christmases are always the best

[imhereonthekitchenfloor]

Catherine, I feel so confidently that "I Look Through People's Windows" was inspired by The Little Match Girl but I don't see anyone else posting about this so now I'm trusting in you, someone who has big Listens to Classic Christmas Stories With Family During the Holidays energy, to back me up on this

I BLANKED ON THIS STORY AND HAD TO LOOK IT UP. Here's the wikipedia summary for those interested:

See my prev post on me randomly crying reading this. So after recalling the story, I am with you!!! There is no reason for Taylor to mention Christmas unless it was relevant to the story.

Also the opening line??? The little match girl literally dies to watch these visions in the cold (I assume the catch in breath means the breath in cold air).

Anon you are so right. Miss born on a Christmas tree farm Taylor is telling the story of herself looking for one more chance with a loved one via an olden Christmas story. Taylor is the little match girl.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 11

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 5.3k

warnings: ryu says: be extremely careful with this one. extremely triggering; extreme descriptions of violence, domestic abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, child abuse, foul language, traumatic/suggestive descriptions

description: Han Jisung finally recounts the dark events of his past, revealing just what made him into the monster he is today. the world as you knew it has flipped on its head in the span of one night, and time is running out for you to decide who you’ll stand by.

watch the trailer here!

11| young god.

“Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,

And when the wind blows, the cradle will rock.”

Mama’s singing voice was soft in Jisung’s ears, her gentle fingers smoothing out the locks of his hair. He was curled up into her side, his tiny fists, which had been clutching stubbornly at her nightgown, finally loosening as his heavy eyelids drooped. Jisung couldn’t even remember what nightmare he had been having before he had cried out involuntarily and woken his mother, the warm embrace that followed immediately soothing the tightness in his chest and drying the tears on his cheeks.

Mama was always so warm. Mama was home, and Mama was safe.

This was the earliest memory Jisung could remember — every time something triggered all the flashbacks, the nightmares, he would always find himself back here — in this memory, in Mama’s arms, everything growing less and less clear every time. It was like wading through muddy waters, a thickening shroud of fog, as if his memories had become a frayed photograph — blurred at the corners and fading out of focus. 

Eventually, he had stopped trying to remember altogether, and the lullaby became nothing more than white noise ringing in the back of his mind.

━━━━━━━━

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”

The box was wrapped in gold paper, complete with a red bow and ribbon. Covered in little Santa Clauses and Christmas tree patterns, it was small, but weighted enough to make Jisung’s arms slightly sore from holding it. Father would have called him weak had he said anything, so Jisung bit his lip and sucked it up.

“Man up, boy,” he would bark, delivering a slap to the side of Jisung’s head that was hard enough to make his eyes water. “Don’t tell me I raised a little girl?”

Mama would tell him not to mind his words.

Father was watching him now, leaned back on the couch. Maybe there was a glint of impatience in his eyes, but Jisung didn’t notice it as he slowly undid the bow, fingers barely touching the paper for fear of ripping it as he unwrapped it. He never got gifts on his birthday — in fact, Father didn’t even seem to remember the date at all, and Mama never had the money to buy him anything. Christmas, though, was easier to remember.

The fluttering paper fell away to reveal a black box, and when Jisung lifted the lid it something shiny — metal? — caught his eye. 

“Cost me a damn fortune. Old geezer down at Young Wings gave me a load o’ shit...”

Mama glanced over at his father, a hand hovering above his arm before withdrawing it timidly. Jisung’s attention was still fixed on the present — it was a camcorder, and brand new; the polished silver metal winked at him, and Jisung pulled it out with wide eyes. He flipped open the screen, fingers fumbling with the power button. The red recording light blinked at him like a rabbit’s eye. Grinning, Jisung held it up to his parents, smile not faltering despite Father’s disinterested eyes and Mama’s tense features.

Mama smiled into the lens. “Merry Christmas, ‘sungie.” Jisung turned away, too fascinated with the present to notice how the smile never quite reached her eyes. 

They didn’t celebrate any more Christmases after that.

━━━━━━━━

“February 22nd, 2005.” Jisung cocked his head, squinting at the viewfinder as it came into focus. “Yes! That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” His tongue ran over the gap where one front tooth used to be — he’d lost his first tooth a couple days ago, but he could swear the strange, metallic taste of blood was still in his mouth. He scrunched up his face. Blood didn’t taste good; he decided he wanted as little to do with it as possible.

Jisung was sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor, the dying rays of the sun filtering through the window and spilling onto his hair. He had been filming video logs since Christmas — dramatically narrating battles between his old teddy bear and action figurines, or pretending he was a celebrity showing guests around the house. On some days, he would prop up the camcorder and hum a radio tune stuck in his head until he fell asleep. After all, Mama said he was too little to play outside with the other kids, and Father certainly didn’t play with him.

“Darn,” Jisung mumbled as the camcorder screen went blurry again. “Why do you keep doin’ this?” He got to his feet, pacing around his room while pointing the camcorder at random items. When it still didn’t focus, he opened his bedroom door and wandered into the hallway. His father was home — Jisung hadn’t seen him all day, but he had heard sounds coming from his parents’ bedroom — and surely, Father would know what to do, right?

“Father?” Jisung called, his voice coming out more timid than he’d intended. “Um, I—I know you don’t like to be bothered, but my camcorder isn’t--isn’t working. U-um...could you, m-maybe—”

Jisung’s stutters were cut off by a loud, strange gasp that made him freeze at the door. It sounded as though someone was in pain, but not quite. The door was shut, but when he listened closely he could hear...heavy breathing...heavy breathing, and a woman’s voice. 

“Mama?” His voice was barely above a whisper as one hand scrabbled for the doorknob, twisting it open. Inside, it was dark — but his camcorder was zoomed in, and Jisung watched as it finally focused on two figures on the bed. One, his father.

And two, a woman who was definitely not his mother.

Jisung’s gaze darted wildly. Clothes were strewn all over the floor — a red cashmere coat, his father’s dress shirt. His wide, confused eyes flickered up again, adjusting to the darkness. Father wasn’t hurting the woman — no, he was kissing her; she was on top of him, touching him, and he was letting her, and Mama was nowhere to be seen, and — and — 

His camcorder clattered to the floor and Jisung felt his heart stop, both heads on the bed snapping in his direction.

“Baby, we have a little visitor.” The woman spoke first, the cool calmness in her voice turning Jisung’s skin to ice.

“Get out.” His father had locked eyes with him, and when Jisung’s feet stayed frozen in place, his father pushed the woman off and strode towards him. “GET OUT!”

Something in Jisung clicked and he unfroze, fingers slippery with cold sweat as they grabbed at the fallen camcorder and he dropped to his knees. His father was standing in the doorway now, Jisung scrambling to push himself away — back into the hallway, back into the light.

“If you ever speak a word of this to your mother, boy,” his father’s voice was a low rumble above his head, like thunder before a tempest. “I’ll ram that camera right into your skull.” His finger came to rest on Jisung’s forehead before pushing, hard, and Jisung fell backwards, watching his father’s dark face disappear behind the closed door. His head hit the floorboards, hard, but he crawled to his feet, breaking into a run back into his bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Jisung glanced down at the camcorder, a pounding headache beginning to ebb and flow between his ears. The red recording light was still blinking with the comical innocence of a child’s eye — as if forever oblivious to the things it had seen. He slid to the floor, feeling like he was about to throw up, and punched the button to stop the recording.

━━━━━━━━

“June 3rd, 2006.” The ice cream truck rushed past him, and Jisung lightly whistled its tune as it disappeared around the corner. “This is my neighbourhood! Here’s the basketball court—” He pointed the camcorder through a chain-link fence, where a couple of older boys were in the middle of a game. “There’s Levanter Park—” — a children’s playground surrounded by tall lavender flowers — “And in the distance, that’s Miroh Heights.” He shifted the camcorder upwards to film the tall buildings looming in the distance, behind the suburbs. “And we’re back to my house!”

Ever since Mama had started working more shifts, Jisung had been able to sneak out more without anyone noticing. When Father got home, Mama would have to leave, and vice versa. 

Jisung had tried his best to forget the woman in Father’s bed — after all, he hadn’t seen her since, having begun avoiding his parents’ bedroom altogether. Sometimes, he wondered if it had happened at all. It was all so strange. It must have been a nightmare.

He swung open the front door, reaching down to unlace his sneakers — and froze. On the doormat sat a pair of red heels.

Did...Mama own red heels? 

He ran into the kitchen, a familiar nauseous feeling settling in his gut. There, sitting on top of the kitchen counter, was the woman from months before. She was wearing the same cashmere coat despite the summer weather, loosely draped over her frame so her bare shoulders were exposed. 

Jisung’s breath caught in his throat. Somehow, he willed his feet to move, every fibre of his being screaming for him to run, to run into his room, to run out the door, to run anywhere that wasn’t here. But instead, he lifted his camcorder, shaking as he tried to focus on her face. This was real. He needed something to show someone that this was real. Sensing the movement, the woman turned, eyes widening in surprise before a dark smirk curled across her blood red lips.

“Well, well. Look who we have here, hm? Filming something?”

“I-I won’t tell Mama,” Jisung blurted, and the woman’s face darkened. “P-please don’t tell F-Father—”

“Oh, he’s not home, pet,” she chuckled, and stood up. Jisung felt as if his feet had rooted in place, throat painfully dry as she slowly walked up to him. “It’s just you and me.” 

There was a red Zippo lighter in one hand, and the other fished in her pockets as if looking for cigarettes. She lit it with a crackle that made him jump, and ran a long finger down the side of his cheek before glancing down at the camcorder in disdain. “Naughty, naughty. You look just like your daddy, though. Same pretty-boy eyes.”

She held his chin between two of her long, red nails and Jisung shrank away from the touch, the sound of his ragged breathing filling the air as his eyes brimmed with tears. “Not quite a man yet, though, are we?” The woman chuckled, her breath reeking of cigarette smoke and liquor. With a smirk that made Jisung’s gut flip, she shrugged the red coat off her shoulders, the heavy fabric hitting the kitchen floor. 

She was wearing nothing but lace lingerie underneath, her catlike gaze flickering back to Jisung. “Say, mama’s boy, want me to teach you how to be like daddy?” Jisung was frozen, pupils quivering as his eyes darted back and forth. “Just give me your little camera, hm? You can touch me, too. I’ll make you feel real good.” Her hands were touching him, they were grazing his shoulders and chest and roaming lower, and lower, and — 

Jisung shook his head frantically, hands shooting out to push her away — but a red-taloned hand caught his arm and halted his feeble attempts. The woman scowled, and before Jisung knew it his arm was burning  — she was pressing the lit cigarette into his forearm to snuff the flame. With a choked gasp he squirmed in pain but she wouldn’t let go, red nails digging into his forearm like a snake’s fangs as his nostrils filled with the smell of her perfume and his own burning flesh. His fingers were trembling violently around the camcorder, clutching it close to his chest for dear life.

She pressed harder, and a scream of agony ripped through his throat before he could stop it, making the woman loosen her grip in surprise. Seizing his chance, Jisung yanked his arm away before a voice thundering through the house made him halt in his tracks.

“What the fuck is that?”

So his father was home. 

The moment Jisung’s eyes shot up to meet the woman’s, it all made sense. She was leaning back on the kitchen table, red lips spread wide in a Cheshire Cat’s taunting smile. She was toying with him — she knew that the moment his father came down, wrenching the camcorder from Jisung’s hands would be child’s play.

Snapping out of his horrified state, Jisung finally willed his legs to move and he sprinted out of the front door. The woman’s high-pitched laughter was ringing in his ears even as he made it to the sidewalk and ran out of his neighbourhood, as far away as his legs could possibly carry him. The sky had darkened, the red hues of the sunset making him shiver involuntarily. When Jisung finally collapsed, it was in a field of lavender flowers on the outskirts of town.

He threw his head back towards the sky, and let the sobs rack his body until he lost consciousness.

━━━━━━━━

“December 31st, 2009.”

His own voice sounded foreign to his ears, barely above a hoarse whisper. His house was always so quiet — tip-toes and whispers and furtive glances, for as long as Jisung could remember, as if one wrong move would set off a bomb.

What Jisung would give for quiet in moments like right now.

He could hear shouting and banging on the other side of the house, shaking the walls and making him jolt with every sound. The moment it had begun he’d froze, bare legs hanging off the side of his bed before — as if by reflex — snatching the silver camcorder off of his dresser. He hadn’t picked it up in months — no, years — hadn’t been able to touch it since without feeling nauseous. The moment his skin brushed the cold metal, the memories would shoot through his head like electricity. The grits of dust it had collected bit into his palm now, his own erratic breathing filling the room.

“You fucking whore — you want to leave me? That it? Do I need to remind you that I’m the reason you’re still alive?” 

Father. Father’s voice always carried no matter how far away he was. Jisung heard pounding on the floorboards, the sound of someone running — no, crawling; his mother’s fingernails were scrabbling at the base of the stairs. There was a crash, and the struggling stopped momentarily.

“N-n-no, pl-please—” choked sobs were closing up his mother’s throat; Jisung could hear the thick tears in her voice through the paperlike walls. “You can h-hit me, y-you can — I won’t mention your--your other woman, just--God, not in front of Jisung.”

Jisung heard his father wheeze an incredulous laugh. “Jisung,” he spat. “You should’ve gotten rid of him when I told you to, eh? I’m telling you, Ji-Eun—” his mother’s name sounded foul in his father’s mouth — “I never wanted any of this.” There was a blow, and a cry of pain. “But you just wouldn’t get rid of the baby, huh? You just had to fuck everything up, and you still bitch about how hard your life is every fucking day.”

“N-not Jisung,” his mother gasped desperately, “Chungho, he’s your son—”

“THAT BOY IS NOT MY SON!” His father’s sudden roar made Jisung leap to his feet, eyes darting around his room frantically. “I never wanted a son, that boy is a mistake you made and kept.” There were footsteps coming up the stairs now, getting louder and louder — and with a jolt of horror, Jisung realised that his father was dragging his mother towards his room.

Before Jisung knew it, there was a deafening bang on his door that nearly sent him toppling to the floor, as if a body had been slammed hard on the other side. The fighting had never happened so close before — it was always, always on the other side of the house, always downstairs, as if Mama had wanted him as far away from it as possible.

Mama always told him to stay far, far away from the danger, from Father — but it had never been this bad. Jisung would always stay in his room and pray for it to end — pretending as if the shouting, the banging, the screaming was all just static from the TV he could tune out if he tried hard enough. But he knew it had been getting worse as the years passed, Father’s drunken rages growing more and more violent; Mama’s face growing sickly pale and paler still.

The sound of his bedroom door cracking at the hinges snapped Jisung back to reality. Shaking, his eyes shot to the window, under his bed, then to his closet doors. Feeling as though his feet were dragging through wet cement, he felt his legs propel him towards the closet, not even managing to shut the door properly before his bedroom door came crashing down in an explosion of splinters and plaster.

Father was crushing Mother’s weak frame into the ground, both their faces scratched from splinters of wood. Jisung’s body was pressed against the back of the closet — he was long past the age where he could hide away from the fighting in the closet. He was taller than he was years ago, his limbs having grown awkwardly lanky and so he barely fit anymore. The camcorder shook violently between his fingers as he aimed it through the tiny crack in the closet, the small crack of light revealing a fragment of the hellish scene.

Father’s huge hands were wrapped around his mother’s throat and every fibre of Jisung’s being was on fire, every inch of his body screaming for him to open the door, to save her, to stop him. His mother’s voice echoed in his ears, telling him to stay away from the danger, to run, to stay away — but Father was killing her, he was killing her—

He lowered the camcorder, trembling fingers ready to push the door open — and froze. At that moment, just outside the closet, his mother tilted her head upwards. Her eyes met his, wide and bloodshot with fear, and Jisung felt his heart stop. Mama, I’m coming, he wanted to scream, Mama, Mama, I’ll save you— 

Face contorted with pain, swollen eyes locked on his, she shook her head ever so slightly. Then Father’s fist came down with a sickening crack, and her eyes rolled backwards into her skull.

The silence that followed seemed to swallow Jisung whole. 

This couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening. Mama wasn’t — Mama couldn’t be. But her whole body had fallen limp like a rag doll, and the house felt infinitely emptier, and at that moment Jisung just knew what horrible thing had just happened.

Father’s erratic breathing on the other side of the door brought him back, if only momentarily. “Shit,” the man muttered. There was so, so much blood pooling from beneath Mama’s body, slowly leaking a trail towards Jisung’s hiding place. “Bitch fucking--fucking asked for it. Had it coming…” 

Little broken sobs were beginning to bubble in Jisung’s throat as the horror sank in, pathetic hiccups growing louder the harder he tried to shove them down. His vision was growing hazy. His head was throbbing. And when his father wiped his bloodstained hands on his dead mother’s body with the nonchalance of wiping on a rag, something in Jisung’s chest snapped.

Jisung tore through the closet doors, the hoarse sobs licking like flames in his throat giving way to a roar of anguish. His eyes were burning with tears, gaze tinged with crimson red, ears ringing as his face contorted into something animalistic, something he had never felt before, something that wasn’t him. Everything was spinning; the floor was collapsing beneath his feet and threatening to swallow him whole. His hand wrapped around a long fragment of broken wood, and, as if it was an anchor to the last bits of sanity he had left, Jisung let out a bloodcurdling wail and plunged it deep into his father’s neck.

The man howled in pain, wheeling his large body around, but Jisung had already sprinted through the splintered doorframe and tumbled down the stairs. There was dark, slippery liquid all over the floors that reeked of blood and alcohol, shattered glass from bottles sinking into the soles of Jisung’s feet as he ran, his father’s heavy footsteps shaking the ground right behind him.

Jisung found himself in the kitchen, and the caricature before him turned his blood into ice. His mother had been cooking: a pot boiling over on the stove sending hot water splashing onto the tiles and onto his bare feet. The corners of his vision were blurred like a fish-eye lens, the camcorder dented but still locked between the fingers in one hand and slippery with blood. Little details jumped out at him. An open jug of cooking oil. An abandoned meat cleaver on the counter.

He whipped around just in time to see his father lunge for him, and Jisung’s mind went blank. He felt his fingers find the handle of the meat cleaver, his eyes bulging out of their sockets and trained on his father’s chest — and charged forward.

Jisung drove the knife straight into his father’s flesh with a terrible force he never knew he had, a neverending scream tearing through his vocal chords -- and brought it down again, and again, over and over and over, until several eternities later, when Jisung’s screams had finally given way to quieter, quivering sobs, his hands stiffened and he dropped the knife with a clang.

Suddenly, the house felt enormous, a seemingly endless silence flooding the suffocating air. Somehow, he got to his feet and limped out of the kitchen, stumbling back up the stairs.

“Mama,” he mumbled. His vision was blurry, eyes darting everywhere and refusing to focus. The camcorder was forgotten in his hand. “Mama?” Jisung dropped to his knees by her side, shaking hands touching her hands, her blood-drained face. 

Jisung didn’t know how long he stayed like that, by her side, silent wails racking his body as he felt the warmth slowly seep from her skin. Mama was always so warm, Mama was always safe, Mama was all he had—

And Mama was dead.

He wrapped his arms around her limp frame, trying to lift her from the growing pool of blood and down the stairs as best he could. His legs gave way before he had reached the bottom, toppling down the steps, and he landed hard on his side, dragging his mother’s body the entire way down. As Jisung’s hands scrabbled to push himself back up, crawling forwards into the kitchen, his mouth went dry as he caught a full glimpse what he had truly done. 

Red. That was the only way he could describe the remnants of his father, a giant crimson mass soaking the white kitchen tiles. Red blood on his own raw, bruised hands. And a familiar red lighter that had skidded from his father’s pocket and was now lying in the mixture of fluids on the floor tiles. The cooking oil was still on the countertop, and the moment Jisung’s eyes fell on it there was only one thought coursing through his mind.

In a single, final motion he lurched forward and brought down the jug cooking oil, feeling it sear his eyes as it splashed all over the floor, the walls, the body — before fishing the the red lighter out from the pool of blood and vodka. With the last of his strength he flicked it open, eyes mesmerized momentarily by the tiny flame — and let it fall to the ground.

Flames erupted from the floor, enclosing him in a circle of fire and heat. It was like a bomb detonating, the walls shaking violently as black smoke flooded his lungs. Choking, Jisung’s hands blindly snatched at the flames for his mother’s body, desperately trying to lift her out of the fire. The camcorder’s acrylic strap was sticking to his palm, melting into his skin as it grew unbearably hotter, flames licking at his skin as he limped forwards, no longer able to tell if he was dragging himself out of the fire or further inside of it.

Jisung’s palm smashed the screen door and it burst open. The blast of freezing winter air that hit him as he stumbled out of the building finally leached the energy from his bones, and Jisung collapsed, skinned knees buried deep into the fallen snow. The night sky was a hollow purple, the weak lights of stars drowning in the black billowing smoke from what once was his home. Cradling his mother’s lifeless body as the house burned to the ground behind him, weeping with the agony of an angel cast to the infernos of hell, Jisung could almost hear a familiar lullaby ringing in his ears.

Rock-a-bye, baby, on the treetop

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall

And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Somewhere, a firetruck sounded, followed by the growing wail of police sirens approaching — but Han Jisung was laughing like a madman.

━━━━━━━━

���They told me that there was nothing left from the fire but bones,” Jisung had told you. “The delivery lady — Old Mrs. Hwang, I think — was the one who called the police. I woke up right before the paramedics arrived and hid the camcorder’s memory chip in my pocket. It was like I already had the reflexes of--of a murderer.”

“What happened then?” You had asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did they…”

“Find out? Never. How could a ten-year-old single-handedly burn down a building? More importantly, why would he want to? I must’ve looked traumatised enough, because the whole thing was written off as a gas explosion. Faulty pipes, something leaked, and the moment my father turned on the stove the house went up in flames.

“I was famous across the country,” Jisung’s voice was ironic, but his eyes were flat and hollow. As if he had already condemned himself long ago. “Everybody pitied and swooned over the poor, orphaned boy — but after a month had passed I became a ghost again, floating from orphanage to orphanage. Then I met Minho—” his eyes snapped up at you— “And after the kidnapping case, it was like everything had snapped again. I couldn’t run from what I had done — I could still see it, every single time I closed my eyes.

“I couldn’t save her. I should’ve died that day — no,” he had chuckled hollowly, “maybe, I never should have been born.”

The moon was three-quarters full, a pale teardrop outside your bedroom window. Your mind had been in limbo for hours now, shifting endlessly back and forth between what Jisung had said, what you had heard, and everything you had seen until now.

Jisung had finally fallen asleep beside you on the bed, his eyebrows slightly furrowed but his breathing otherwise even. You had made him stay the night, a request that surprised the both of you — Jisung, who had still been respecting the distance you had forcibly wedged between the two of you — but you couldn’t bear the thought of him having more nightmares. Especially not after tonight.

Funnily enough, you thought, you’d much rather have a wanted serial killer safely sleeping next to you than out roaming the streets doing heaven-knows-what. A voice in the back of your mind mentioned how you had never expected that your first time with a boy in your bed would be under circumstances that were...less-than-favourable, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.

It all made sense. It all fit together like a grotesque puzzle: the way Jisung reacted with the colour red, all his strange, uneasy symptoms, why all the victims were known to be abusers or mistresses, and oh, God — his family. Your mind flashed as you imagined him bringing the knife down on his abusive father, the scrap metal on his kidnapper — and the stone on the dead man from the Yellow Wood. It was like he had his own Mark of Cain — whoever hurt him would have the pain and wrath reenacted upon them thousandfold. 

Maybe it should have felt wrong, what you were feeling — you should have been repulsed, you should have turned him in on the spot, you should have written him off as a monster, a murderer — but you didn’t. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. You’d seen the moments his facade had cracked and revealed the raw, vulnerable, broken boy underneath; you could feel the regret and torment he was living with every day, eating away at him from the inside like a disease. And, most of all, you saw the flashes of the boy he might have been in his wide, sheepish smile and bright, mischievous eyes, in his gentle hands and soft voice. In the fleeting moments of happiness that had been robbed from him too young. And now, you realised that you were certain about one thing.

You were absolutely, hopelessly in love with Han Jisung.

Your eyes wandered to his sleeping face, studying the dark circles beneath his eyes, the stress ingrained in the lines of his features. You had seen the same shadows in Lee Minho’s expression — these boys who had grown up with worry and pain etched into their faces like scars.

Jisung shifted slightly, mumbling incoherently and changing sleeping positions. After hesitating for a moment, you gently took his wrist in your hand, gingerly studying his hands and ankles.

Sure enough, there were faint white lines where cable ties and rope had once burned into. Jisung’s shirt had hitched up slightly, revealing rosy skin dappled with numerous bruises and mapped with more miscellaneous scars that all told the same, horrible story.

Your eyes finally settled back onto Jisung’s face again, a knot of bittersweet emotions festering in your chest. Outlined in the silver moonlight, he looked ephemeral — like a young god with too much power thrust into his hands, cold and damaged and beautiful; capable of the most terrible things. 

You didn’t know what was going on inside his mind, and you had no idea how things would change when morning came. It felt like he was slipping from your grasp the harder you tried to hold on. Was this how Minho had felt? Out of control? If so, you were beginning to understand why the coroner had wanted to help Jisung in the first place, to mask the ugly truth. To protect his friend, the only brother he’d ever known.

“Trust me, y/n, I was in your position once, too. You’re just like how I was.”

Maybe you weren’t so different from Minho, after all. Because as you watched Jisung’s sleeping figure, felt his body warmth pressed up beside you as something in your chest swelled in both tenderness and pain — you knew you were more than willing to lie for him, too. If you could save Han Jisung’s life, if you could bring back the boy with the happy, angel-like smile from your very first date — no, if you could keep even a fragment of the light and peace left in his eyes, then that was what you had to do. You would hide everything until — until the case was closed.

And maybe, you thought as the moon burned into your drooping eyes, just maybe, everything will be okay.

[fictionadventurer]

Christmastime Again: A Hallmark Sci Fi Presentation

When the room stopped spinning, Lacey found herself on Christmas morning again. The guests had all arrived, the tree was standing and a light snow was just starting to fall out the window. The start of a picture-perfect Christmas.

As long as she kept it that way.

Alright, from the top.

By now, she could navigate the first part of the day by muscle memory. Scoop up the cat and lock her in the carrier in the laundry room. Straighten the rug and move Uncle Wendell’s beer stein away from the edge of the counter. Turn down the Christmas music just in time to hear the timer buzz and bring the turkey out of the oven at the peak of golden-brown perfection. Stash the cookies out of toddler-reach and get every child at the craft table a red crayon before the hair-pulling started.

Since she could navigate these hours without thinking, her brain was alert to the rest of her surroundings, watching for any unexpected ripples that could upset this version of the Christmas timeline. She noticed nothing out of the ordinary, except for the stares of the guy in the sweater. She’d heard his name--Julian, some cousin of her sister-in-law who had nowhere else to go--but it was hard to remember it when her senses were distracted by the ugly sweater.  It wasn’t cute ugly or ironically ugly; it was “I was raised by color-blind trolls” ugly. All beige and orange and yellow, displaying a big fuzzy reindeer with lopsided button eyes and trimmed with bits of bright green tinsel. If she could have made the loop go further back, Lacey might have tried to prevent him from wearing it. But she could only control the things that took place in this house today, so the sweater stayed, assaulting her eyeballs at every turn.

Not that the guy himself was hard on the eyes. With his dark hair, blue eyes, and a square jaw shadowed by neatly-trimmed stubble, he had a boy-next-door appeal--if the boy next door happened to be working as a model for the world’s worst sweater company. In the opinion of Lacey’s sister-in-law, Julian was only single because he was married to his work in some university department, but Lacey doubted that was the reason. If he stared at all women the way he was staring at her, the women had good reason to keep their distance.

Dinner was served and eaten with no mishaps. Cleanup was a breeze. Presents were handed out and unwrapped without disaster. And she still, in quiet moments, caught Julian studying her with unusual intensity. What was up with him? He hadn’t done this on previous loops--or maybe she’d just been too distracted to notice it. If he didn’t stop it soon, she’d miss a cue, tumble into disaster, and have to live this day all over again.

While the rest of the family wandered into the dining room for refreshments, Lacey stayed near the tree, picking up the last bits of wrapping paper and defending the tree from the handful of kids playing with their new toys. She moved on reflex, deflecting a rubber ball, a foam dart, a runaway remote-control car. One, two, three, like a dance, and then on beat four, in perfect time, she pivoted on one foot to catch a ball of crumpled wrapping paper.

And found herself nose-to-nose with Julian, his hand around her outstretched wrist.

Those blue eyes stared into hers. “You’ve lived this day before.”

It wasn’t a question or a joke. It was a statement of fact.

Lacey met that gaze straight-on. “What did you say you teach at the university?”

“Temporal mechanics.”

“Ah.” Lacey dropped the wrapping paper.

He let go of her wrist. “I don’t have much practical experience, but when I see my hostess unexpectedly developing superhuman reflexes and responding to statements before they’re spoken, I start to think that either she’s the world’s most boring psychic, or she’s making use of that pretty little bangle on her arm that looks alarmingly like an antique temporal elastic.”

Lacey tugged her sweater sleeve over the twisted copper casing and red control stones of her overworked time travel device. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

“How many times have you done this loop?”

Lacey pushed up her sleeve and counted the tally marks on her arm. “52.”

His eyebrows rose. “That’s almost two months of Christmas Day.”

Lacey’s shoulders fell. “I am sick to death of turkey.”

A silence fell between them that was louder than the chatter from the dining room. Finally, he straightened the sleeve of the Ugly Sweater and said, “Putting aside your obvious mental instability and the frankly fascinating paradox storm that must be swirling around us at the moment--remind me to bring some instruments here within the next twenty-four hours--I have to ask: Why?”

She looked at a fragment of ribbon on the carpet and rasped, “I have to get it right.”

The crowd started trickling back in, pooling around the couches while holding plates of goodies and glasses of wine.

As the noise rose, Julian gave her a significant glance “I think we should talk about this somewhere quieter.”

She stepped back, brushing the tree. “I don’t need to go anywhere with you.”

“I think you do. You’ve got two months of memories to work through. You can’t keep that to yourself. You’ll go crazy.”

He wasn’t wrong. She had already learned why the Guild recommended against these sorts of changes--holding onto these alternate timelines was exhausting. She could do with a debrief.

But she had no time for a break. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m hostess.”

“They can look after themselves for half an hour.” Julian opened the door to the hall and waved her through. “And if not?” He shrugged. “What’s one more loop?”

#

It was an odd kind of Christmas weather--cold enough to send fluffy flakes scattering, but warm enough that they needed only earmuffs and scarves and didn’t even bother zipping up their light jackets. She lounged with Julian on the wood steps of the back porch, watching the flakes fall while they sipped at mulled wine.

Julian threw back his head and laughed as Lacey finished telling him about one of the earliest of her failed Christmases. “The whole tree?” he gasped. “The cat just--” He held one arm upright and used the other to mime a cat clamping onto the tree and sending it toppling. “Why did you redo that one? No one would have forgotten that Christmas.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

He sobered. “The cat didn’t get hurt, did it?”

“No, Fluffy was fine.”

“Anyone else injured?”

“No. “

“Property damage? Lost family heirlooms?”

“No. It was a gentle fall, and the only family ornaments on that tree were the pom-pom panda bears. They're resilient.”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem?” Only a guy who wore reindeer sweaters would need this concept explained. “The problem is that no one wants the Christmas party interrupted by a toppling tree. It’s a nightmare. Chaos.”

“But memorable.”

“No one wants those types of memories.”

“Those are the only ones people actually remember. If Christmas goes smoothly, everyone forgets it in a month or two. But ‘the year Lacey’s cat took down the tree’? They’d go back to that story for years.”

“How does that make it better? I don’t want them constantly rehashing my failures as a hostess.”

“How is that failing? You provided good food, a comfortable home, a lovely tree. That’s not changed by a few mishaps.”

“This was more than a few mishaps.”

“Only because you’ve done it fifty-two times.” He leaned back against the wall of the house and lifted the steaming mug closer to his face. “What gave you this idea that Christmas has to be perfect?”

She twisted the time travel bangle on her wrist. “My mom...she died last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

She swallowed a lump. “She always hosted these perfect Christmas parties. She’d plan them for months and everything just ran like clockwork.”

His eyebrows rose. He pointed toward the bangle. “Did she...?”

Lacey pushed it beneath her sleeve. “No, never. We never knew it existed until we were going through my grandma’s things a few years ago.”

He relaxed. “That’s a relief. I thought I was going to have to get this place declared a temporal wasteland.”

Lacey chuckled. “Even if she’d had it, she wouldn’t have needed it. Her parties were works of art. Beautiful decorations, perfect food, everyone laughing and singing carols by the end of the night. When I asked her why she did it, she told me, ‘Lacey, these people are giving you their Christmas. It’s your job to give them the best Christmas you can.’” She sipped at her mug to swallow back tears. “When she died, that job fell to me. And when everything went wrong, I had to fix it.”

“Fifty-two times.”

She shrugged. “As many times as it took.”

“I doubt she’d have said your duties extended that far.”

“You’re probably right. But once I went in quest of the perfect Christmas, I couldn’t settle for anything less. It would have felt like dishonoring her memory.”

“It wouldn’t have been. I’m sure her Christmases had plenty of flaws.”

“Not as many as mine.”

Julian ran a finger along the edge of his mug. “You have this idea that everyone wants a Christmas of picture-perfect trees and crackling fires and cozy rooms without a speck of dust out of place. But if they wanted that, they could stay at home and look at pictures on the streambox. They come here because they want your Christmas. Burnt turkeys and cat-toppled trees and all. They want you experiencing it with them. Not fifty-two alternate versions of them.”

She fingered the fringe on the edge of her scarf. “I suppose not. But what’s wrong with trying for the perfect Christmas?”  

“Lacey, there’s no such thing as the perfect Christmas. There’s never been one at any time, anywhere in the world.” He bunched up snow in one hand and tossed it into the darkness. “Even the first Christmas wasn’t perfect. Do you think Mary planned to let her child sleep in a feeding trough? Do you think Joseph planned to let strange shepherds gawk at his son? It was one long exercise in embracing the unexpected, and it created one of the most memorable stories in human history. Do you think your mother would call that a failure?”

This had gotten more abstract than Lacey had expected. A little dazed, she said, “No. No, of course not.”

“You want to control every little detail, but no one can do that.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “You don’t get the perfect Christmas by crafting it. You get it by appreciating the one you’re given.”

She knit her fingers into his. “A gift,” Lacey said.

He smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”

#

They stepped into the laundry room together, brushing the snowflakes out of their hair.

Julian held up his mug, which held one last swallow of wine. “To Christmas,” he said.

Lacey clinked her mug against his. “Whatever we’re given.”

Throwing back their heads, they drained the dregs, then set the empty mugs on the window ledge.

Then hand in hand, they crouched down and let Fluffy out of her cage.

[buffyversefanfiction]

Twisted Tristan’s Tormented Christmas

Fandoms: Buffy the vampire slayer, Angel, Buffy Dark Horse comics, Buffyverse and A Christmas Carol.

Warnings: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse.

15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other +

“Have yourself a merry little…” The voice on the television began to sing with a campy Christmas cheer before the song was abruptly ended by Tristan switching off the television in the living room of the apartment, he shared with Faith above their bar Rogue’s. “Christmas is cancelled this year; we are drinking straight through to New Year’s.” A drunken Tristan declared, while wearing just a pair of tight white boxer briefs as he held a half empty bottle of whisky in his hands, before crashing on to the nearby couch. This year had been especially difficult for Tristan Summers, who had went from being a vampire who was possessed by a demon, to being killed, only to come back to life and find himself sucked into a twisted dimension where he and his parents Buffy and Angel worked together to kill the shadow demon that had once possessed him. Being back from the dead should have been reason enough for Tristan to celebrate Christmas, however, despite many pleas from both of his infamous parents he continued to decline, even going as far as convincing Faith to head to Los Angels for Christmas so he would not have anybody to remind him come the day. The earliest Christmases that Tristan could remember with his adoptive parents seemed like a perfect Christmas looking back which were probably heavily influenced by nostalgia and how much he missed them. Heck, even his Christmases spent with vampires Dante and Drusilla were fun for him, of course they were all crazy and there’d usually be humans on the table instead of turkey but it still felt like a family holiday, a deeply disturbed family, but family nonetheless and after so many losses, heartbreaks, and betrayals, Tristan was done with it all, especially Christmas. After everything him, Buffy, and Angel had gone through to get to a place where their relationship was somewhat healthy, or at least healthier than Tristan trying to kill his biological parents, he did feel guilty for rejecting both of their invitations but he just did not feel ready to open himself up to another form of family, especially not on Christmas Day.

As the hours passed, Tristan waited until his bottle of whisky was completely empty before passing out drunk on the couch where he sat but sleep was not something he would get much of on the night of December 22nd as he suddenly found himself being awakened by his old high school friend Mandi Jenkins, startling him to his core, considering Mandi was killed by Drusilla not too long ago. “Mandi,” Tristan mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, unable to believe what stood before him. “How is this possible? Your dead…I saw your body myself after Dru killed you.” “I believe the correct answer would be it’s the magic of Christmas, believe it or not that kind of thing really does exist but to be fair in a world filled with vampires, witches, slayers and sons of slayers is it really that far of a stretch that Christmas really is that special after all.” Mandi replied to her old friend. “Clearly, I am dreaming once again.” Tristan realized, as he stood up from his couch. “There’s only so many twisted dream scenarios one unhinged slayer can handle before he becomes completely and utterly tormented like…” “Drusilla…you were going to say Drusilla, right?” Mandi interrupted the slayer’s son, instantly noticing his guilt over mention the name of her killer to her so casually. “It’s okay Drusilla killed me, biggest surprise was it was not you who killed me…and I use the term loosely considering I am not actually Mandi.” “Are you the first? Please tell me you’re the first and not the shadow demon because I am getting sick of going up against the shadow demon.” Tristan complained. “I am the ghost of Christmas past.” Mandi revealed to him, only to be met by laughs of disbelief from Tristan. “Are we really doing this?” Tristan asked in between laughs.

Exactly one blink later and before his very eyes he was now standing next to Mandi on the snow covered grass of his family home in Riverborn looking into the dining room window to see his adoptive parents playing games, talking and laughing with each other and a six year old version of himself. “They loved Christmas so much, my dad used to dress up as Santa, I guess like most dads did but he really committed to the role either that or I was a really dumb kid because I was shocked when I found it was him.��� Tristan admitted to Mandi, with tears in his eyes as he watched a beautiful Christmas memory before his very eyes. “Do you remember how our parents used to meet up on Christmas night and it would be like this big mash up of Christmas? And how you used to spend New Year’s with me every year?” “I know I look like Mandi, but I am not actually her remember,” The ghost of Christmas past reminded him. “I can see why Christmas is so difficult when it serves as a reminder of all you’ve lost but not all of which you have lost is bad…” “What does that mean?” Tristan wondered, before realizing. “Dante and Drusilla…I loved them like family too and the whole time they were the ones who killed my real family, first my parents, then you, well Mandi…” “I know how much Mandi Jenkins meant to you which is why I chose to take this form and I know the guilt you feel for not only her death but your parents’ too but all of that was out of your control.” Mandi of Christmas past explained to the son of the slayer. “Maybe not…but killing Mandi’s boyfriend was definitely all me, killing all those slayers, and all those innocents, that is all on me without any excuses and that is something I can never make up for.” Tristan admitted, never forgetting the horrors he had committed with his own hands. “I could feed you the line and play the role of a person endorsing your shit by saying you were manipulated by two vampires, one whom you were in love with, but the truth is you chose that path and you killed all of those innocents and that is something you should have to live with for the rest of your life without a doubt!” Mandi made clear to Tristan. “However, that does not mean you should resign yourself to the shadows, if you truly want to redeem yourself and be the better person then you need to learn the true differences between the past you, your present and what your future may look like.”

It was December 23rd the eve before Christmas eve and Tristan had all but regulated his experiences the night before as nothing more than a drunken dream as he pulled himself together, showered, washed, and put on some clothes before opening up his and Faith’s bar Rogues which they opened during the day despite the fact most of their customers couldn’t step out in the day, however, one particularly loyal customer only showed up during the day, Miss Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins, a former vengeance demon from an alternate world who had found herself annoyingly human and in New York City. “So, you spend a thousand years give or take with the best gig a girl can ask for…minus all the bloody bunnies and then boom some shadow demon gives you an offer you cannot refuse although in hindsight I probably should have…” A drunk Anya Jenkins slurred while drinking her bottle of beer, sat on a stool, at the bar counter, within Rogues bar, which was empty barring her and her bartender Tristan Summers, who stood behind the counter, looking far from amused by his company. “Only to be beat by two humans and the worst part of it all is not only does the world suck a lot more than I hoped for but this world’s version of my boss tells me I have no choice but to stay human because this world’s me was given too many chances…” “You have told me this story every time you come in here in the afternoon, always drunk before the sunsets, forcing me to get you a taxi so you do not wind up some vamp’s dinner…” Tristan complained to her. “You need to get over it already and find yourself some kind of life you do not totally hate living.” “Oh, I am very sorry if my life’s problems bore you!” Anya said with great sarcasm. “It was you lot who did this to me…it’s only fair you have to wallow in my misery with me.” “Hey, do not get uppity with me because you were bested by a broken key and a halfwit.” Tristan mocked the former vengeance demon, and by doing so also mocked Dawn and her boyfriend Xander. “You are almost as bad as Sid for the complaining, but the guy is a freaking puppet who cannot drink…real problems, unlike yours!” “Remind me again why I keep choosing to come back here to a bar which service is severely lacking?” Anya asked, while digging at Tristan at the same time. “Because this is the only place stupid enough to let you have a tab!” Tristan replied. “Which was definitely more Faith’s idea than mine considering I know for a fact you are never going to find a way of paying us back nor do you want to look.” “You make an excellent point,” Anya responded before finishing her beer and placing the empty bottle onto the bar counter. “Where is your fellow slayer anyway?” “Spending Christmas in Los Angeles with everyone including the two humans who brought you down to your knees.” Tristan informed her, all too happily. “If I knew you were this much fun during the holidays I would have told her to take you with them although considering you’re an alternate world version of the girl Xander almost married I do not think Dawn would be too happy…saying that I am not too sure if I care about her not being happy.” “So, you turned down being somewhere for Christmas so you could serve me alcohol all through the holiday and yet I’m the one who needs to get a life?” Anya said blatantly, as she stood up from the barstool and began walking towards the bar door, ready to leave Tristan alone to think about her latest insult.

Later that very same night after he was finished closing up Rogues, the only male slayer Tristan went straight to bed, avoiding any drinks in an attempt to avoid further dreams about Christmas past, but alas the ghost of Christmas past and had come and gone and it was now time for the ghost of Christmas present and who better to represent it than Drusilla, a vampire that Tristan had a lot of history with, history which continued to troubled him right up to this very day, and possibly in the future too. “My boy still looks like an angel when he sleeps but the things, he’s done makes his daddy angel weep and weep.” Drusilla tormented Tristan, as the male slayer awoke from his sleep to find her stood above his bed within his bedroom. “Considering you were not invited into this home this has got to be another dream,” Tristan reassured himself, as he climbed out of bed and stood up on the floor, ready to face the vampire who made him into the monster he once was. “So, are we still on the theme of Christmas or is this just another dream with you in it?” “Yes, I do seem to haunt your dreams on the regular…tell me what is worse for you? The dreams in which I am killing everybody you loved which serve more like flashbacks than dreams, or is it the dreams in which you’re happy, we’re happy, Dante, and Mandi too?” Drusilla, the ghost of Christmas present, questioned the man who once loved her like a mother, knowing the turmoil her mere presence caused him. “I cannot believe I am saying this,” Tristan admitted to both himself and the ghost of Christmas present, eager to avoid anymore talk of his troubling past. “Please tell me this is another Christmas dream…” “Yes,” Drusilla said after a sinister cackle, the Christmas ghost playing their part of the deranged vampire a little to well, before the two found themselves standing outside the front doors of the Hyperion Hotel, within the garden, looking through the front doors to see Tristan’s father Angel reluctantly decorating a large tree within the reception area of the hotel, under close super vision by the all-powerful witch Willow. “Hate to break it to you Dru but if this is what you have to show me then your seriously lacking in the sinister department these days…or this Christmas ghost version of you is way too much Christmas and not enough Halloween.” Tristan scorned Drusilla, as he continued to watch his father Angel decorate a tree with Willow, looking further to find Faith and Spike knocking back drinks at the counter of the reception area, while behind the reception area Giles, his mother’s watcher, was heavy into what looked like a game of scrabble with Dawn and Xander, the watcher looking justifiably frustrated by what Tristan assumed was the others lack of verbal intellect in comparison to Giles. As Tristan continued to search through the festive scenery before his very eyes, taking Drusilla’s silence as a hint to continue examining what lay before him, after a few more moments he found his mother Buffy Summers sat on the stairs playing dolls with her six year old niece, and his cousin, Joyce Harris, and for some reason that he did not want to admit to himself he began to feel a gut in his stomach, jealous not of Joyce or her child play, but broken by the sign of Buffy being motherly to a child, a child that was not him, a child that would never be him. “You are right in thinking she will never be like that with you, for you a neither a child, or remotely innocent…the days of that ever being likely for you are well and truly over.” Drusilla told him. “You are never too old to be somebody’s son but are you too far gone to allow anyone to love you like that?” “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tristan questioned the vampire, confused by her often-cryptic ways of putting a sentence together. But before the son of the slayer could get any answers from the ghost of Christmas present he found himself waking back up in his bed in his bedroom, only this time there was no sign of Drusilla to be found.

It was now December 24th, officially the eve before Christmas, and it felt to Tristan like this particular Christmas was on steroids, as Christmases tended to feel like during times people were far from feeling the festive spirit, and it seemed to Mr. Summers that he could not turn on a television, stream a song, or listen to the radio, without the message of Christmas being shoved down his throat, but as he opened up his bar for another day to night shift, he began to look forward to the distraction of Anya Jenkins, knowing she would be the last person to feel the festive cheer, or at least that is what he thought. As Anya strolled into Rogue’s dressed as a literal elf, holding a hot, sexy, and barely dressed, male Santa in her arms looking happier than she had ever looked before, Tristan could not believe his eyes, believing instantly some sinister magic was to blame for this ungodly sight before him. “I thought you hated elves why the hell are you dressed up like one?” Tristan asked Anya, as she sat down at the bar with her festive suitor. “It’s bunnies, it’s always been bunnies, bloody bunnies!” Anya corrected the male slayer, unnerved by mentioning the creatures she feared the most. “So, you hate Easter but not Christmas then?” Tristan wondered, before turning to examine the sexy Santa, failing to not notice his amazingly chiseled and seemingly oiled hairless chest. “Or do you just have a kink for Santa’s…which judging by this one makes a whole lot of sense.” “I like money, and lots of it, and I got myself as an elf at some shopping mall…can you believe shopping malls are still a thing on this world? In my world we enslaved all designers forcing them to make their designs exclusive to us which definitely wound up backfiring when they started stitching terribly and we got all angry and killed them all.” Anya revealed to Tristan, with a sense of fondness. “Now those were the days…” “Did you just say this world…as in you’re from another planet or something? Because that is super cool, everyone meets vampires and demons these days, but I never hear stories about aliens.” A clearly confused sexy Santa asked Anya, all too excited by the potential of her being an alien. “I knew by Xander that dumb was your type but at least this one’s hot.” Tristan told Anya, mocking both Xander and the sexy Santa without care. “Well aliens are from another planet and I am from another universe so yes, I’m technically an alien to this world anyways.” Anya replied to Tristan, before going on to say. “Also, I am not the Anya who almost married that lump I am the Anya that has only had the misfortune to meet him once.” “So, Santa what do you want to drink?” Tristan asked the man, eager to change from the topic of aliens. “Oh, I do not drink, I respect what goes into my body.” The sexy Santa, instantly losing all appeal to both Anya and Tristan within that one instant. “I’m cool with the whole not drinking thing but respecting your body? Is that really a thing when there is literally a fast-food joint on every corner? I mean I am all for self-love and stuff but keep your greens and I will keep my fats.” Tristan responded to the man dressed as Santa. “Tristan your bitterness over no Christmas date is starting to show, maybe you should hitch a ride to L.A. before it’s too late and spend Christmas with that god-awful family of yours.” Anya suggested to the male slayer. “I’d gladly tend to the bar for you…if I’m payed Christmas wages of course.” “No thank you,” Tristan scoffed, not willing to trust Anya, nor willing to go anywhere, especially not on Christmas. “I mean I know this place is just a dive bar and everything, but I would not trust you to take care of my stakes never mind my bar, and everything’s a stake if it’s wooden and you get creative…”

After spending his day shift watching Anya making out with the sexy Santa she brought to Rogues, and the night shift serving demon after demon, creature after creature, and the odd human who were very odd indeed, Tristan shut down the bar for another night before putting himself to bed once again, falling into a deep sleep, hoping the future was further away than what it would be…as before long he found himself awakening on the cold hard ground of his own grave. “Well this is definitely a little too much melancholy for even me…” He mumbled to himself as he stood up from the ground and walked off his grave, looking around the San Francisco cemetery, confused by how he got there. “Down here big guy!” Sid instructed the slayer, forcing Tristan to look below to find the living puppet stood in front of him. “In case you’ve not quite caught up on all of this, yet I am your ghost of Christmas future.” “I figured that much but why take to me to where Buffy buried me before the whole coming back to life via some powers that be meddling?” Tristan replied to the puppet man, made of wood. “Well where else were they going to stick your lifeless body the next time around?” Sid answered him. “They never got round to getting rid of the grave, not that they needed too considering you wound up back in it before long.” “What did I die of a severe lack of Christmas cheer?” Tristan joked, unaffected so far by this spiritual visit. “Or maybe a vampire staked me with a candy cane, the amount I’ve staked seems kind of poetic actually…” “Nope, after you went back to the bad way of life much to no-one’s surprise your mum Buffy stepped up and killed you…if memory serves right you were stabbed to death with way too many wounds for it not to be a little…you know…fun for her.” Sid revealed to the slayer. “But after all the work they put in saving you just for you to go back to being a bastard who would blame her…” “So, I go back evil? I wouldn’t do that…not after everything…” Tristan dismissed his claims, all while fearing Sid was telling the truth. “Yep, that’s what you thought too but after continuously pushing away the parents, then Faith, and even Anya got sick of you…well after all that you had nobody and before long you were back budding it up with Drusilla acting as if you did not know she and Dante killed your parents…or maybe you just really did not care anymore.” Sid continued to explain to a stunned Tristan. “I mean how are you supposed to be human when you haven’t bonded with any since you started playing with monsters.” “That’s not true!” Tristan snapped at the ghost of Christmas future. “I care about Faith she has never given up on me, and I care about Buffy and Angel, I mean sure the parents thing is a little complicated but I do care about them…and I cared about Mandi, Lucas, and the parents that raised me.” “If you really care about all these people, the ones who aren’t dead yet then why are you treating them like they are already gone?” Sid asked Tristan, already knowing the slayer’s answer. “Because you fear one day you might end up caring too much and losing them which will happen as nobody lives forever, thing is…if you don’t care, lose, get hurt, and let your heart break, then you’re not really human as much as it sucks, we got to feel the bad as well as the good because nothing is more dangerous than becoming numb to it all.” Tristan wanted to argue back with the man trapped within the dummy, wanting to prove him wrong, but Sid’s words were wiser than Tristan would like to admit, and even if he was not a fan of Christmas itself he was certainly a fan of those who did care about it, those who wanted to spend it with him and before long he started to realize that he had made a huge mistake by trying to skip Christmas….

As Tristan woke up in his bed within his room on Christmas Day, he was immediately met with guilt as he realized he had missed out on a chance to bond with his friends, his family, and potential loved ones. He was not suddenly a fan of Christmas itself, that would take some time, but he began to remember its message and how important it was for people, how important it once was for him, and as he climbed out of his bed, rising onto his feet, and walked over to his window to see the back alleyway, in between his building and several others, was covered in snow, as snow continued to fall from the sky, and for a moment, just a moment, he even considered opening that window and yelling Merry Christmas. Instead, he chose to get changed and then call up those who would answer to him, so he could wish them a Merry Christmas and admit to his regrets of not being with them on this special occasion but after he had got changed, and walked into the living room of his apartment, he quickly realized he had no calls to make as his living room was decked to the halls with Christmas decorations, including a fully decorated tree, as his mother Buffy Summers, his father Angel, his aunt Dawn, her man Xander, and their daughter Joyce, stood beside his friend Faith, the vampire Spike, his mother’s best friend Willow and the retired watcher Giles…all of them ready to spend Christmas with him whether he wanted to or not…but luckily for him he was more than ready to celebrate Christmas with them all.

Have a truly twisted Christmas that only torments you in the more joyous ways and a happy new year, a year which will hopefully be less chaotic than 2020, keep slaying slayerettes.

[fiftytwobadstories]

For most people, their earliest memory would often be of them as a toddler and that their mother’s would likely be never too far away. My first memory was of Mother, but I was well beyond my years as a toddler. I had just come home from school and I remembered seeing my Mother looking down at me from the kitchen. At first, it looked as though she was unusually tall, but then I noticed her feet hovering off of the ground. Her body was completely rigid, but swayed gently in a nonexistent breeze. She had hung herself with the cord of the ceiling fan, whose light caused a halo to shine brightly in the back of her head. To me, she looked like angel.

Then I blacked out—my Uncle later told me that I had fainted—and when I came to, everything that had existed in my life before that moment had vanished from my mind. I no longer knew who I was or where I came from. It was as though my entire childhood never happened and I had been born right at that moment. The only thing that I knew was that my Mother was gone. I had nothing and I was nothing. I didn’t know what would become of me.

Thankfully, my Uncle took me in. He was really the only family that I had left after my Mother was gone. He was actually quite wealthy and lived in a great big house—he even had maids. Though he was quite the busy man, he always made time for me. It was through him that I learned about my life and he even homeschooled me himself because he didn’t think that I was ready to go back to school just yet. Even though I had found myself living the good life, I still couldn’t bring myself to smile. I could barely feel anything at all. It was as though I was missing something.

My Uncle was a nice enough man, but he did have a temper. I was naturally rather obedient as a side-effect to my mental state, which meant that he would rarely be angry with me. I did everything he asked me to and believed everything he told me—so he liked me. However, every once in a while, a maid will accidentally drop a glass or something will not be folded correctly and his face would turn a flaming hot red. It was a quiet type of anger, but it was enough to make the maids nervous. They rarely showed any emotion on their faces, but I could always tell when they were scared.

There was one day where one of the maids had dropped a bottle of wine on the carpet and tried to get out the stain before he came up from the cellar, but the stain just wasn’t coming out. I was sitting there watching her as she did her best to remain calm as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed up from the cellar. Then, she ran. She tore off her heals and ran for the front door before two of the other maids stopped her. By the time he made it to the top of the stairs and saw the poor maid desperately trying to claw her way out of the other maids’ grasp, he could only let out a long disappointed sigh before he grabbed her by the wrist and lead her down the cellar steps that she would never walk back up. He never even learned about the stain.

I couldn’t help wondering what would happen to me if I ever made any mistakes like that—would I be taken down to the cellar too? I was never really quite sure what was down there, but my Uncle locked himself away there for several hours every day. I asked one of the maids about it, but they were never allowed to speak to me and when I asked my Uncle, he only said that he would tell me when I was older. Unfortunately, he never told me how old was old enough, and I would still ask about it now and then in case it was time. Eventually, on the last time that I asked, he was so fed up with the question that he almost became angry. His face turned that bright red as his fingers curled around the handle of a knife on the dinner table, but then his expression softened into what almost looked like a smile. He stood up from the table with knife in hand and carved a line in the wood of the doorway that was roughly his height.

“When the top of your head reaches this line, then I will show you what’s in the cellar” he declared before walking away laughing.

Every day, I would stand in that doorway hoping to see that the line had grown closer to the top of my head, but every day, it stayed in the exact same place. Weeks, months, and several Christmases had gone by, but I had yet to grow a single hair’s width. I was always stuck in that child-sized body in a great big house of grownups and all of them seemed to know something that I didn’t. It was so frustrating and I found myself wondering if there was more that I didn’t know. Then I remembered something that I hadn’t thought of in a very long time.

“Why wont you let me go back to school?” I asked him as we were going over the basics of molecular biology in one of my morning lessons.

“I told you, my dear boy, you’re not ready for school yet,” he answered without looking up at me.

“But wouldn’t it benefit me to be around other children my age?” I insisted.

He let out a long deep sigh and I thought that I could hear him mutter something under his breath: “There are no children your age.”

Without another word, he got up from his desk and left the study. He never ended lessons early. There was something about the exchange that didn’t sit right with me. He was hiding something from me—many things. Maybe everything. I called after him and followed him out of the study. He refused to acknowledge me which only made me shout louder. I needed answers. Why wasn’t I allowed to leave? What was in the cellar and what happened to the maids he sent down there? What happened to my memories? And finally, why did my Mother have to die?

He snapped and I finally saw his angry side.

“You want to know? Fine.”

He yanked me by the arm and swung open the cellar door. I was thrown forward into the darkness and landed hard at the bottom of the stairs. I was certain that my legs were broken, but I couldn’t see a thing. He slowly made his way down the stairs towards me and picked me up by my hair. I was dragged across the splintered floor towards a door that glowed around the edges. Then he threw me down, opened the door, and there I saw my Mother.

She looked exactly as I remembered her, only that her body was laying in pieces on a pile of dismantled maids. At that moment, I realized that the dress that she was wearing was the same as the other maids. It wasn’t just their dresses, but all of their faces were the exact same. At the end of her neck, was a mess of wires and plastic shards. I tried to stand and walk over to her, but as I looked down at myself, I could see a wire sticking out from where my leg had snapped.

“I had such high hopes for you, my boy,” I heard him say from behind me, “but alas, you’re just another failed experiment.”

[deeeelightfuldee]

What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about?

in my best dreams id love to go to bed at like 745/8. but my brain doesnt shut down like that, and i tend to be very productive at night. Maybe one day tho

What is you favorite type of lunch meat?

uhhhhh turkey

What time of the year do you dislike the most?

summer heat.

Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs?

ew no.

What is your favorite color to wear?

so I have historically worn a lot of darker colors but I’m trying to be intentional about making my life romantic and I need to introduce more color.

Are you an overachiever?

in most respects, yes

What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)?

smaller size, sharper jawline, thicker hair (not a LOT thicker, just mildly)

What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'Hara) would you marry?

mr. darcy omfggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg.

Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry?

no. never

What is your favorite thing about your life?

that no matter what, God has always provided and had a better plan

Have you ever painted a picture of somebody?

as a kid, all the time.

Did you enjoy your past relationships?

in most respects. each of them was good for a time.

Name a comedy that you like.

four christmases

Could you wait until marriage for sex?

that was the plan

What was the last thing that impressed you?

ummm that the plumber was able to get the roots out of the drain as easily as he did.

When was the last time you were in a pet store?

last summer. We were going to get benny a little bro/sis but with covid everyone was adopting animals like crazy out here.. so the ones they had were on these enormous wait lists where you would go thru an interview, a HOME INSPECTION, and had to bring all your other animals in to meet said rescue. it was ridiculous. 

What nationality is your last name?

dutch

What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip?

ems crack dip with uhhh the wavy lays

Who was the last boy that you saw cry?

uhh hm. hmmmmmmm... I honestly can’t recall

Does your mom know you do surveys?

I dunno, tbh

Have you ever had a serious injury?

I mean, somewhat. Not anything I discuss tho lol

What was the last thing you achieved?

surviving vid!

Would you enjoy being famous?

i doubt it. I’m pretty introverted and even though I get along very easily with people, my batteries charge best when im by myself or home. I would very much like the income though lol.

What’s under your bed?

I plan to go thru it soon! I’m trying to gather all my kile memories and I know I have like jewelry paperwork, cards from flowers, letters, etc. that need to be pulled. :(

Do you enjoy travelling?

Love it.

Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it?

absolutely. thats a long, long list. lots of academic, Christian, honors, volunteer, and youth group types.

When was the last time you drank strawberry milk?

oh geez, maybeeeeeee 15 years?

Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set?

no. that was never my thing. 

Do you have a clock in your room?

No. My old cable box had the besttttttt time light. I miss having a small clock. I mentioned this to mom how we spent like forever looking for replacements after we changed cable providers. We didn’t want red or green, but the white. Now this makes me want to find one for my room. mom has a google device so shes set lol.

Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher?

I had the most phenomenal teacher. tho when it came to actual driving appointments (after the class periods) I often got paired with this older fella who constantly berated me over being homeschooled and telling me he was going to report me to the state. eventually I stood up to him, handed him the HSLDA contact card (home school legal defense association) and encouraged him to report me all he wanted. he stopped attacking me finally. it was awful. but the other gentleman was hilarious and fun.

Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite?

ohhhhhh mer gersh i love so many of her songs. this answer would definitely change depending on the week but this week its a tie between gimme more and circus. 

Does mind over matter work for you?

in most respects

Are you paranoid?

i can be at times.

What is the best thing about winter?

OOOOOoo good gravy this is a long list. I love the calm. I love the way the air is thick and cold and how quiet it becomes. I love hearing the sound of snow falling. I love the glitter haze it leaves. I love the way it feels like the house wraps you up in a warm hug when you come in from the cold. I love the way candles and a fire in the fireplace make everything so cozy. I love the glow of twinkling lights, white and colored, just casting the most beautiful and dreamy cast on the neighborhood. I love the food and drinks that make you feel full and ready for a deep sleep. I love the clothes and the bundling up, the scarves, the hats, the mittens. I love the music and the way no matter where you go, there are carols playing the sweetest love songs. I love the way decorations come up and people display their much-loved memories in the form of ornaments on their trees. I love seeing the elaborate wrapping styles of packages around the tree and filling up the stockings. I love seeing the snowmen and igloo designs displayed with pride in the front yards around town. I love the way the world gets dark so early, yet.. there is light reflecting off the mounds of snow. I love the way the early night allows for early comfy flannel pajamas and thick wool socks and sleep. I love the curling up under a giant mound of blankets and reading a book. I love thinking about the joy on other’s faces when they open gifts that were cultivated for their happiness. I love the rereading of the beloved passages of scripture where we recall the reason for the season. I just love it all. 

Have you ever been truly in love?

yes. 2 times, how lucky I was. 

Are you currently planning a trip?

I was not. I probably could stand to be home for a bit. 

How many plants are in your home?

honestly, no clue at this point. I’ve been locked away coming up on a month. I dunno how many we have right now.

What is your favorite possession?

hmm. boy this is hard. It used to be my ring kile got me. I feel weird saying my favorite things are from him lately, so maybe my stained glass lamp. 

Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked?

I am a nice person majority of the time and I would say I have been overlooked from time to time but I definitely do not behave nicely in order to be noticed.

What movies have tripped you out?

eh, I’m not entirely sure. 

Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade?

nope. I was so prone to breaking my ankles that it just absolutely was not for me. I tried a couple times, but couldn’t grasp the hang of it.

Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night?

no. this life is way too precious and too short to be spent laying next to someone who isn’t right for me. I have no intentions of settling. I do know of friends who have settled just to have someone near. It makes me so sad. The thought of settling like that just destroys me. Not to mention how unfair it is to the other person. Idk. Just sad sad sad.

Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating?

no nudity. 

Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep?

no. I would be way too distracted by that. I also don’t like things touching my face.

What summertime treats do you love?

ummm watermelon. popsicles.

How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss?

oooo boy im so ridiculously picky about it. In fact, one guy i was seeing for a few dates... i was like unsure of him and he wanted to kiss so bad and I just avoided it everytime lol.

What do you hate most about moving?

I’ve only done a temporary move. I don’t know that it’s the same. 

Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting?

I think that I’d be down for it if I were married, but I think its most intimate when its in private lol

Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks?

Nope. It’s just not my thing. I’m never lacking that much energy.

Has anyone ever whistled at you?

yes. 

Do you like scarves?

love them. 

Is your father homophobic?

I’m not sure. I haven’t got a clue. 

Do you take gummy vitamins?

sometimes. its my preferred method

Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all?

not that I can recall. ohhhhhh maybe when i was in theater and we needed to put like color on their faces to ensure they wouldn’t be washed out by the harsh lighting.

Who would you like to meet before you die?

no one. those who want to meet me, should meet me lol

If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it?

nah. 

What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of?

oh there have been so many. I just ignore them. I don’t see sense in letting my mind be corrupted by that 

If Heaven and Hell exists, where are you going when you die?

heaven!

Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else?

mom!

What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday?

the bathroom lol

Is there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy?

everyone. everyone and anyone would benefit from therapy.

Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself?

I’ve never seen it so I couldn’t tell ya.

How old was the first person you kissed?

at the time? I was 16 he was ...... 19 

Will you be a strict parent one day?

strict? no. I’ll have rules and such but I’m a very loving caregiver... not to be cocky

Last person to stand up for you?

I wish i could tell you. I’ve never been the kind that requires someone else to protect me like that. but man, it has to feel good to know someone else is willing to go to those lengths.

Have you been to a baby shower?

many times.

Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater?

My sister

What’s your favorite high school memory?

hmm, there are so many i loved.. probably the trips.

Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single?

i love being single, but miss the connection from a relationship

What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do?

hot air balloon.

What subject at school did you absolutely hate?

freakin math

Italian food or Chinese food?

Chinese. ugh, I’d kill for some if they had GF soy sauce options

Do you like to make flash cards when you study?

sometimes, it depends on what I’m using them for. often I’ll just write like Question Answer type patterns in my notebook and then use a coversheet. I hate losing notecards.

Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer?

yeah but I don’t sing like that anymore.

Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online?

I used to a lot,not anymore so much. 

I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike.

no thank you

Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school?

none really on my behalf. one girl completely plagiarized my work and that led to some drama, but beyond that nothing.

Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras?

no, I’m not that sort of wealthy.

Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets?

I mean, part of me thinks that its just kinda sad for the kid to not have simple pleasures instead of needing all the finest gadgets, 

Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother?

n/a

Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome?

No

Jalapeños: yay or nay?

yay most of the time.

Did you ever play Minecraft?

uhhhh only when my nephews ask me to for like 5 mins lol

Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member?

I didn’t.

Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense?

yes. some people just seem very... unaware.

What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you?

assault

What type of person angers you the most?

those who feel it is OK for them to assault another person in order to gain what they want or to release what they desire to release

If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it?

I’d want to be smaller. thicker hair. probably invisalign so I can correct my bite. 

Describe your first relationship?

he was ... fascinating to me. He allowed me to have my guard down. He made me laugh, he made me blush, but he made me feel like I was constantly safe. He was wounded from his previous marriage but he was.. so worth mending. However, we were long distance and he just wasn’t able to do that. He needed more than I was able to offer him at the time.

Describe your last relationship?

OK so relationship is such a widely defined word. I’m going to describe the last person I was personally committed to. He was my other half. He was pretty vain and conceited when I first got to know him. Constantly concerned with his work and nothing but his work. However, along the years he developed into the most kind, generous, patient, extremely loving man. He changed all sorts of his former ways. He began investing in his character and taking the time to better himself. It was so incredible to watch. We created a bond where he was my world. I thought I was his. but we ended over him having a relationship for years that I knew nothing about. it’s weird, this quote from jane eyre reminds me of him...

“I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex?

I didn’t get the option to do so when it was happening. 

Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply?

ps i love you just tears me to shreds over how effing painful it is to lose someone you love.

What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you?

that I was kind and friendly, warm and inviting.

Do you feel protective over someone?

yes. my loved ones. my family members. my close friends.

What perfume/cologne do you wear?

ummm either very sexy night, or refuge.

What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to?

a very deep, dark red/maroon. super lovely

What is your favorite way to eat chicken?

CHICKEN SANDWICH< preach

It is your birthday. You hope the cake is:

omg i crave regular birthday cake. gluten free cake so far has been quite disappointing. 

What were you doing at 8pm last night?

nothing.

[the-redamancist]

enemies to lovers!kim yongguk

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

as an avid animal lover, kim yongguk’s biggest dream had always been to have a pet he could call his own

so ever since he was presented with a tiny kitten two christmases earlier by his parents, he had been the happiest man

it went without saying that lucy soon became the centre of yongguk’s world, and he has never been ashamed to admit that his cat stood proudly at the top of the kim family hierarchy

as one that loved spoiling his pet, he would frequent the local mart, buying a few packets of the most expensive snacks offered every week

yongguk’s friends are constantly flabbergasted at the sheer amount of money that he spends on his cat alone, but hey, if it meant that lucy can bask in luxury, then his coffees can wait

you enter the picture a few weeks before christmas in the form of a homeless cat shelter worker, desperate to find a home for the remaining 24 cats under your care

however, as christmas neared, the number of furred friends in the shelter seemed to not decrease by one bit, and you spent your days sitting in the play area surrounded by them, worrying about their not-so-bright futures

you would very willingly adopt all of them into your own home, but since you already spent minimal time in your apartment, you knew that it was impossible for you to be a good companion for the cats

which is why you decided on a whim, that if you couldn’t give them a home for christmas, you’ll present (haha get it bc christmas presents) them with the next best thing: buy them as many snacks that you could afford for the last two weeks of december

a messily scribbled plan later showed that it would be impossible to bulk order from suppliers, since they would all be on christmas break by then 

which is why on the 15th of december, you walked out of the local mart carrying an entire box of cat treats at 6 o’clock sharp, your wallet sadly deflated in your back pocket

to say that yongguk was shocked to find the entire shelf of expensive cat treats empty later that morning is an understatement

to his knowledge, the snacks that he buys for lucy are always in stock, since most customers prefer cheaper alternatives

slightly thrown off, he could do nothing but return home emptyhanded, feeling guiltier towards his cat than he should’ve been

needless to say, lucy was not pleased at the piece of spam offered her in consolation at the lack of gourmet organic chicken bites, and didn’t bat an eye at yongguk for the rest of the day

walking into the mart the next morning, yongguk was determined to get his cat her chicken bites, but yet again, found the entire shelf devoid of anything

he tried his best to ignore the bitter glare lucy sent him as soon as she spotted his empty hands, mentally promising her that tomorrow, he was going to get her the damn bites if it meant sacrificing his life

empty

empty

empty

lucy has been denied her treats for five days straight, and yongguk has been denied affection from his cat for five days straight

he was growing insistently restless, tired of facing rejection as lucy stalked away from his open arms again and again

a quick ask around the mart told him that every morning, a woman comes in at the crack of dawn to purchase nothing but a huge pile of cat treats, and that was when yongguk decided that enough was enough

waking up at the earliest time he has ever woken up the next day, yongguk speed walks to the mart, only to find you already at the cat treat shelf, piling the last packets of lucy’s chicken bites into your basket

walking up to you, he takes a deep breath before asking you quietly if you could spare him a packet for his cat to eat before she eats him, thinking that you would most likely be kind enough to offer him at least one bag

which explains the blatant surprise on his face when you apologised, breathing out a ‘i need all of this today’ before briskly walking off towards the cashier, hoping to get to your cats as soon as possible

leaving yongguk frozen for a few minutes in the middle of the cat food aisle, mind blank at the blunt nature of your words

that night, he stares a disinterested lucy in the face, eyes set in determination as he promises that she’s going to get her treats tomorrow, no matter what

you walk into the mart the next morning, mentally prepared to spend another couple dozen dollars on cat food

however, nothing would’ve prepared you for the emptiness that was the cat treat shelf, the colourful packets replaced with nothing but what appeared to be a small piece of paper

picking it up, your eyes immediately narrowed at the familiar message scrawled onto the page in lazy handwriting

‘sorry. i need all of this today.’

ten minutes away in yongguk’s apartment, whilst lucy was enjoying an entire package of her beloved chicken bites, her owner was staring at his now-empty wallet in disdain, the only bit of satisfaction stemming from the fact that he had actually beat you to the snacks

ever since that silent declaration of war, both you and yongguk’s mornings have been absolute chaos

you would both rush to wake up in the morning, with you sometimes not even bothering to smooth out your hair before heading out the door, and with yongguk surprising lucy at the speed he’s been moving throughout the house 

it would, on most occasions, result in you arriving at the mart first, and even though yongguk always looks somewhat disgruntled whenever he sees you standing at the cashier before him with a triumphant grin, he’s began to secretly thank you, because his wallet has suffered more in those few bulk purchases than it has in his entire life

however, curiosity eventually started to build up in yongguk’s system, and by the end of another week, he was lowkey dying to find out what you did with all those packets of treats

which led to him trailing after you out the mart after another success on your side, taking care to keep his distance so that you didn’t notice him

as you weaved through the streets, yongguk started to go through the possible scenarios he would face a few minutes later

were you perhaps just an attractive cat lady with 30 cats, and they didn’t eat anything other than treats?

did you plan on reselling the treats at a higher price for profit?

oh, for the love of god, he really hoped that you weren’t one of those people who were obssessed with cat food and treated them like meatballs

however, all of his thoughts were proved wrong when he looked up at the small building you entered, eyes widening at the brightly coloured sign that read ‘the lost cats’ home’ hanging above the doorway

walking up to the entrance, taking in the small setup of your workplace before his eyes landed on your kneeling figure, a bright smile on your face as you opened up packets of the treats to feed the mass of cats that surrounded you, purring appreciatively

and for once in his life, yongguk’s eyes were not settled on the furry creatures, but on your face, softer than usual as you cooed at your small companions 

thinking back, purchasing that amount of cat food everyday must’ve cost you quite a lot, and to think that you were willing to sacrifice so much of your money for something that wasn’t even part of your job,,,

it was,,,,attractive, to say the least

you were selfless, you were undeniably cute, and you loved cats?

what a fucking match

yongguk was only broken out of his reverie when you turned around, eyebrows raised when you spotted the last person you would have expected

‘what are you doing here?’ you asked, standing up to face him, ‘looking to adopt a cat?’

feeling more flustered than he has ever felt in his entire life, yongguk’s gaze fell from your face to the creatures that surrounded your feet, asking to be petted by nudging their heads against your ankles

‘shouldn’t you be on christmas break already?’ he asked back instead, despite somewhat having an idea of what your reason would be

he did not, however, foresee how down you became at his question, squatting down to scratch the head of a particular black cat with striking blue eyes

‘i can’t just leave them there,’ you replied after a sigh, ‘my coworkers are willing to feed them, but i didn’t want them to be left alone for christmas, which is why i’m spending it with them.’

yongguk found the frown on your face a little too hard to look at, seeing as you were willing to basically give your life for the felines

feeling an overwhelming need to somehow make you smile again, his mouth opened on its own accord, and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind

‘i-i’ll adopt one.’ 

and for him, seeing the light return to your eyes at his statement was worth every dollar that he spent later that day on pet registration

walking back home with a cardboard box in his hands, yongguk was still left in some sort of daze, his mind thinking back to the bright smile on your face as you waved him off from the shelter

and now, with a new pet in hand, your number scribbled onto a piece of paper in his back pocket and maybe a date scheduled for next tuesday, yongguk was the happiest man in the world

‘everything would turn out alright, won’t it, tolbi?’

‘,,,meow’

[turtlemama]

tagged by @led-sbian! :’) these are so fun omg .. it takes me a while to get around to ‘em but they’re a nice distraction!! thank you babe

1. Always post these rules! 2. Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you. 3. Write 11 questions of your own. 4. Tag 11 people

1. do you think friendship should be forever?

as long as it’s a healthy friendship and neither person feels like they’re being pressured to stay together, why not? i don’t think friendships should have to last forever, but they definitely can .. you know what i mean? 

2. how do you feel about commitment?

oh boy .. i don’t know how i feel about being in a romantic relationship? i don’t think i could devote myself to one person in a way that’s supposed to be set apart from ‘regular’ friendships

it goes without saying, i wouldn’t date someone (if i was interested in dating lmao) who wasn’t open to polyamory, or someone’s who expecting to settle down as soon as possible. it wouldn’t be fair to either of us, really 

when it comes to best friends, like .. i’ll cling to them for practically the rest of my life. but i’m just not interested in romantic love, i don’t know if it’s for me, and i don’t think i could seriously commit to something that’s (supposedly) different than and seperate from friendship-bordering-on-familial love

3. what’s your favorite awful pickup line?

ufghfghHGFHG .. #NSFW ish i’m sorry. 

if i were an endoplasmic reticulum, would you want ‘it’ smooth or rough? :3c

4. what’s the best present you’ve ever given?

!!!! my two irl friends and i have three magical girl oc’s! so a couple christmases ago, i drew fanart of those magical girls, and i printed it out on nice glossy photo paper and gave them each a copy .. they luved it

i love surprising people with gift art tbh!!

5.  what’s the best present you’ve ever gotten?

oh gosh. so, so many .. i love just about every present i get. but this past easter, my mom bought me a magazine about the who! (uncut: the ultimate collectors edition) i didn’t expect it or ask for it .. i think i love surprise gifts more than anything else! 

6. do you screenshot other people’s texts and send them to other people?

y ,, es .. i know it’s horrible and gossipy but fngfcndfghh sometimes there’s people i know irl who REALLY drive me nuts and i gotta vent to someone... i justify it by telling myself, if i were talkin about this person face-to-face, i’d probably repeat what they said in their text? so :(

(dw mutuals + irl friends i never ever share our convos. it’s just offline acquaintances) 

7. do you have any tattoos? what are they?

not yet! i want to get a sand dollar on my upper back though .. maybe behind my right shoulder

8. show me your pets

.. i don’t have any. ;( i used to have two dogs but they’ve passed away! i practically grew up with them but yk .. they had a really good life. :( 12-13 years. these days i like to visit the no-kill shelter and hang out with the pups 

9. fuck marry kill your 7, 12th, and 23rd phone contacts

oh no ..

7th: some skype contact i haven’t talked to in ages dnfgfkcfgk

12th: my microbiology??? lab partner?? i just have her listed as [Name] (Lab Partner) fave 

23rd: @nintendont​​ wtf

marry: that skype contact for tax benefits

f*uck: that lab partner I Guess?

kill: i will defeat ryan sheep ramsey 

10. what book are you reading right now?

,, i haven’t read anything besides textbooks in so long. :( if someone could give me some good novella rec’s that’d be swell 

11. what’s your favorite part of 2017 so far?

i feel like i’m ..  sorta-kinda more active on tumblr while also successfully (??) balancing college and it just. it feels good. i’m starting to feel better about stuff.

ik this was an incredibly generic description and more of a concept than a tangible and definite Thing That Happened this year but , hey 

and here’s my questions!

1. what’s the worst case of secondhand embarrassment you’ve had to suffer through? (if you can’t think of any, sitcoms/cartoons count!)

2. what’s one of your favorite comfort foods? 

3. put your music-player-of-choice on shuffle, list the first five songs you get

4. do you believe in horoscopes? what about mbti personality types? 

5. do you have a guilty pleasure series and/or movie? 

6. what’s one of the weirdest videos you’ve seen on youtube?

7. what’s your earliest memory of the internet? 

8. do you have a favorite song from when you were a kid?

9. what’s something really popular that you dislike?

10. what’s something unpopular(ish) that you like?

11. have you ever had a near death experience? 

i’m just gonna tag 5 people ;p @lunatics-on-the-grass @the-mclennon-masterplan @becomeapauper-starve @superfreddiemercury64 and @gdi-bucky !! if y’all want

[hoshira]

` mini headcanon o3. * the perfect family

invisible. <sarcasm> with a title like that, you definitely know that this post will be nothing but sunshine and rainbows. </sarcasm> okay, but seriously, this post will tackle some things regarding tooru and his narrative─ particularly how he consistently disillusions himself. this will be done in the lens of his backstory, however, as i’ll delve a little bit into his family life and what he does in order to deal with them.      post contains mentions of parental neglect, so if that’s not your cup of tea, just scroll past this post like nothing happened.

     i think by now we’re all aware of tooru and his rather terrible parents. but what i’ve yet to write about is how exactly he deals with them. now, my mini meta delves a bit into this, so i’ll post the snippet about his family here, so you can get a sense of what his relationships with each family member is like.

     about parents takashi & misao:

     They love their children, but they love it them in such a monotonous way – as if familial love were a formula as opposed to an emotion. The way they handle things is almost absurdly professional. [...] They’re cold, seemingly emotionless, and if it weren’t for the fact that they had blood in their veins and a heart that beats, you honestly wouldn’t be able to differentiate them from robots. The way they do things is so unnatural because it’s so perfectly executed. 

     already, tooru’s parents are painted as aloof and kind of unfeeling. they see no real emotional attachment nor value in even the most large of tasks, which makes them seem almost artificial. this detachment from their own family in preference of conducting things in a polite and businesslike order, almost to the point of obsession, is why tooru’s family is so disjointed, and why his siblings are very independent. unlike tooru, aika and kaito were given proper attention and care at a younger age, and by the time that they knew how to fend for their own was the time that their parents chose to become less caring. it was as if they had a task to do, and once done, they moved onto the next one. granted, it isn’t the best method of parenting, but at least the older siblings had a chance with making it out on their own. even kaito, who is similar to tooru in disposition, turned out to be fine. but why is tooru so different ? why does he depend so much on people, and rely on the approval of others to feel validated ? well, it’s because his parents were never there to begin with. when tooru was born, they pretty much left him to fend for himself with nothing but a name and high expectations set by his family. but even so, he never blamed his parents. he disillusioned himself into thinking that they were constantly absent because they were busy. “ they’re not home yet because they got caught up in traffic. ” “ they’re late to my birthday party because their boss is super mean and made them stay in ! ” “ they’re not here at my school show yet because they’re preparing a big surprise for when i do my part. they’ll be so happy and proud of me, and that’s why i’ll keep their seats reserved for them. ” “ they’ll arrive. ” “ they’ll arrive. ” they lied. in the midst of all these lies, tooru began to feel how crippling and empty loneliness felt. that emotion, like your heartstrings are the chords to a guitar, taut and strum to one’s leisure, a cacophony of noise, because his parents lied to him so many times, broke so many promises that were always empty to begin with, and─

     so he learnt to deal with it. he turned to watching TV and reading manga. what was he reading about ? stories about children with no parents. stories about children with only their siblings as family, because he related most to them. he could see himself as those children, was inspired by their adventures, felt as if he could become heroes like them, revered and adored by all. he put himself in the shoes of those characters, saw things as how they saw them, and developed his personality based on traits that he saw as admirable, and thus "stole” from them ( though, this was actually one of the earliest emergences of a trait for his bpd ). but i also mentioned the fact that he read of sibling relationships, and that is also something that influenced his personality.

     from the start, he had no one to trust in except kaito, who was only a child at the time, as well. aika initially thought of tooru as a shame to the family name, and so she kept her distance from him ( though this mindset changed the more she realized just how wrong her parents were in thinking of him as inferior or not even part of the hoshiumi line ). already, he was cut off from so many people in his life. and thus, kaito was the only person that he could learn from. who you are as a person is just as much nurture as it is nature, and it is increasingly difficult to develop when the main figures in your life ( aka your parents or guardians ) are absent. it is even more so when the only person you’re able to look up to is your brother, who is only eight years older than you.

     a snippet from kaito’s portion of the meta shows you just how important he was in shaping who tooru is now, however:

     It’s from Kaito that Tooru got most of his morals and aspirations from. He is kind because Kaito showed him kindness. He “adopts” those with horrible parents because Kaito “adopted” him and protected him from their neglectful parents. A lot of who Tooru is comes from Kaito because Kaito was the only person who was there for him during his youth. He taught him right from wrong, taught him how to take care of himself, and most importantly, taught him things that even the most brilliant of teachers could not instruct upon – because Tooru has always been an intelligent child, but emotions are not learnt by reading a textbook or answering questions on a test. They are experienced and felt. And Kaito taught Tooru the most important sentiment of all – one that Tooru embodies in his entirety: love. Because Misao and Takashi showed none in their neglect. Because Aika showed none in her own. And yet the constant in Tooru’s life is the reason why he’s so altruistic, why he gives so much, why his affection blooms in his heart, yet never wilts in the face of decay. Because Kaito taught him love. 

     and that’s the thing─ i’ve called tooru the embodiment of love in so many replies and threads and headcanons because, honestly, that’s what he is. tooru is the love that blooms in face of bleakness, that thrives in drought; not because he has / needs to, but because he wants to. he wants to remain kind and gentle, wants to remain serene and loving, even though he has reason to abandon all prospects of being a good person and instead become callous and cruel.

     when kaito left, tooru was devastated. though he always visited, always checked in on tooru, aika even beginning to make more trips from tokyo to sendai as best she could, tooru felt alone─ as if he had been abandoned on an island, the rest of his family waving goodbye from the cruise liner eastbound for home. so he turned to media again. but instead, he read and watched material about happy families. families that were complete. families that were always together, and loved each other no matter what. he could imagine his own family in their stead, filled his imagination with scenarios of him coming home from school, running in to hug his mother, who would smile and pet his head, of his father taking him out on father-daughter ( and once tooru came out as trans, father-son ) excursions, of his siblings going shopping together with him, of christmases spent watching american movies and wondering if westerners really celebrated the 25th of december like this, of birthdays filled with cake and presents and balloons, and most importantly of all─ a table seated with grinning faces, wishing tooru a happy birthday. he consumed media like this, pictures of smiling families, anecdotes of silly families, so that he could use his own to fill in those slots, and imagine what his life would be like if he was part of that, too. as he gets older, he realizes that these are nothing more than fantasies. but even so, when sleep is threatening to lull his thoughts, tooru wishes he could wake up to loving parents and siblings. but he never does.

     because he knows that what he imagines is something that he can never have. it’s something that will be forever kept in the confines of his mind. something locked deep within his heart’s desires.

[flirting-with-psychology]

On Saturdays, I like to… Chill

Where would you like to be a missionary to? A hot guy

What’s better — toilet paper rolled over top or underneath? Over the top

Which Scooby-Doo character are you most like (Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma, the monster, Scrappy?) I haven’t watched it

If you had to endure one natural disaster (i.e. hurricane, tornado, etc), what would you pick and why? Earthquake. But a minor one just so I could see what it feels like

What movie or TV show do you take guilty pleasure in watching? Pretty Little Liars. It’s only a guilty pleasure because I think all the characters suck but I watch it anyway to know what happens

If you had to describe your day as a traffic sign, what would it be? Yield

What traditional stereotype would you classify yourself as? Band geek

What “group” did you belong to in high school? The band kids, hence band geek

If you wrote a book about yourself…what would it be about? My many hundreds of crushes

If your house were burning down, what would you take and why? My stuffed animals Bruno and Muffin for sentimental value, my crush log and my computer because they have the important info

Describe your favorite pair of PJ’s. Purple and white stripes, sleeveless top and shorts

How many handbags do you own? A lot

If this were your last day alive, what would you say to your friends? I have no idea. I’d waste all my time trying to decide what to do

What is your very favorite part of your day? Seeing my friends if I get to

What is your best scar? Tell the story of how you got it. I was playing cats and dogs with my neighbor and ran facefirst into a brick planter

You win a million dollars, but you have to give half to a charity. Which charity do you pick, and what do you do with the rest of the money? Probably a humane society or something similar. Save some, shopping spree some

Describe your dream wedding where money is no option. Maybe a Disney wedding or a beach wedding

What kind of deodorant do you use? Secret

If you were a spy what would your alias be? One year I came up with the alias Summer Va Telle for a fashion line so maybe that

Do you have a birth mark? Where? Does it look like anything? I’ve got just some random freckles, no shapes

You are planning the most awesome dinner party of your life. Which 3 celebrities/historical figures (past or present) would you add to your guest list to keep the dinner talk interesting? J.K. Rowling, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Taylor Swift

What is your favorite sport, and which team of that sport do you cheer for? Football I guess, and my school’s team

Which would you rather have a kiss or a hug? Why? A kiss because it’s been awhile and it shows romantic/sexual interest

If you could be a pair of jeans what style would you be?  Why? Flare jeans because that’s what looks best on me

You have multiple personalities, describe some of them. Idk?

What is the best thing you have done in your life? Some of my videos

If you were blind for the rest of your life… what would you miss seeing the most? Cute boys

What household chore do you hate the most? Vacuuming

What is your most disappointing moment in life? Probably the ever-growing stack of rejections from boys. Each one isn’t so bad on its own, but it adds up

When have you laughed the hardest? Cried? I can’t remember

If you had a “theme song” that played whenever you walk into a room full of people, what would it be? "I can hear the bells” from Hairspray

What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Their face or hair

What time period from the past would you most have liked to live in and why? Medieval times, although I’d probably hate it after I got over the romanticized-ness of it

What is the best reward anyone can give you? Love

If you had a band what would you name it? Idk

Do you like fruit? Vegetables? I like most fruit, I tolerate some vegetables but I don’t like them as much 

What can someone do to encourage you? Show enthusiasm

If you could be one for just 24 hours, what cereal box cartoon character would you be? Why? Cap’n Crunch

What was the best thing that happened to you this weekend? Made the moment calendar

What is your favorite animal? List three adjectives to explain your choice. Wolf I guess? Idk about adjectives. I know I’m being boring but I’m tired

What is your favorite color? List three adjectives to explain your choice. Green

It’s a very hot and muggy day. You desperately want something very cool and refreshing to quench your thirst and revitalize your body. What would you drink — either make your own or store-bought. Lemonade

You discover that the person you’re head-over-heels interested in loves a good homemade & handmade dessert. What will you concoct when you have this person over? First of all I’d probably never get to have them over, second of all I probably would not make them anything because I’m a pussy and it seems to romantic when I’m trying my hardest not to be any more obvious than I already am, third of all I can’t cook

What would you leave in your will for the person you care about the most? I don’t know, I don’t really have anything other people would want besides to remember me by, so they can pick whatever they think is best

What do you consider to the most valuable thing you own: when you were a child/teenager/now? Child: Monetarily probably my American Girl dolls, emotionally my stuffed cat Muffin. Teenager: Monetarily my iPod, emotionally still Muffin probably. Now: Monetarily my laptop, emotionally Muffin and Bruno 

What’s the kindest act you have ever seen done? I don’t know

If you could have any job in the world, which one would you want? Maybe making music videos

What are your best/worst subjects in school and what subjects would you want to learn now? Probably best at science, worst at writing. I’m majoring in film production and psychology

What are you most talented at? General creativity

What is your worst nightmare today? Spiders

How often do you clean between your toes? Shit I never think to do that

What is your favorite way to waste time at work without getting caught? Watching netflix, they don’t care if I waste time

If you could have had the starring role in one film already made, which movie would you pick? Phantom of the Opera

If you were to perform in the circus, what would you do? Animal tamer If you could eliminate one thing you do each day in the bathroom so that you never had to do it again, what would it be? Makeup removal

You were just given a yacht. What would you name it? Some pun on Star

If you could have been told one thing that you weren’t told when you were a teenager, what would you like to have heard? Lottery numbers lol. I honestly don’t know because I’m stubborn and I need to figure things out firsthand

You’ve just been hired to a promotions position at Kellog Co. What would you put in a new breakfast cereal box as a gimmick? A puzzle piece, and you have to find the person who has the other half. Or some form of that that you could do online because your partner might live on the other side of the world

Just like “Everybody Wang Chung tonight!”, what action would your name be if it were a verb? What?

Name your favorite song. Don’t have one at the moment If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be? Maybe Carpe Diem

If you could play any musical instrument, what would it be and why? If you already play an instrument(s), what do you play and why? I play clarinet, I like the sound I guess

When trick-or-treating as a kid, was there any kind of candy that you didn’t like to get? There were always ones I liked more than others. I guess I wasn’t a huge fan of the nut ones

Why do you live in the Washington DC area? I don’t

What is your favorite memory of Christmases past? I don’t have distinct Christmas memories because I celebrate Hanukkah

What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? I don’t believe in God

If a movie was being made of your life and you could choose the actor/actress to play you, who would you choose and why? Maybe Lea Michele, I think she kind of looks like me, but other people don’t really see it

Paper or plastic? Plastic What was the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten? Orange peels

What do you keep in the trunk of your car? I don’t have a car

When you were in grade school, what did you want to be when you grew up? Why? A teacher, a scientist, and an artist, and I don’t feel like answering why because this is tumblr not english class and I don’t have to

If you owned a CB radio what would your “handle” be? What?

If you were given 24 hrs to live, what would you do? Blow it all trying to think of something good to do

If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be? (Note: both guys & gals have to answer this question) Dancing? Idk, most of my talents aren’t really performable

What do you think the most ultimate gift of the world is? Love

What is your earliest childhood memory? I think I remember sitting under the table not wanting to turn 3

What was your favorite TV show when you were growing up? Clifford and Arthur

If you had one extra hour of free time a day, how would you use it? Waste it on Tumblr

What CD is in your CD player right now? I don’t have a CD player

The great theologian Andy Warhol stated that everyone gets 15 minutes of fame.  What happened during your 15 minutes? Hasn’t happened yet

Name the most famous person you’ve had a face to face encounter with. I met Channing Tatum at the Telluride Film Festival while he was walking down the street and I asked for a picture and he said yes as long as we keep walking so we don’t draw too much attention and then he took the selfie on my phone

Name your favorite children’s story. Harry Potter

If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why? Taylor Swift to talk to her about her songs

What person in the Bible do you most closely identify with? Lucifer? Idk

What article of clothing most closely describes your personality? Necklaces

If you were to write a book what would it be about? Something fantasy

How many rings before you answer the phone? Until I reach it

What is the first thing you think of when you wake in the morning? Going back to sleep, and whatever guy I’m into 

If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it? Save most, buy a car, go shopping, go on vacation

If you had to, what part of your body would you get pierced? Another ear piercing

Who was your favorite teacher and why? Right now my film teacher because he’s fun and is basically the only teacher at my school who makes the kind of films I want to do

What makes you feel the most secure? People laughing at my jokes

Who do you admire the most? Tracy Turnblad from Hairspray

Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? What was it? I used to as a kid about hooks on the ceiling and gradually growing waves

What was your nickname growing up? Didn’t have one 

Who was your hero when you were a child, and what did you do to be like them? Didn’t have one

Peanut or plain? Peanut or plain what?

What is your favorite cartoon character & why? Flynn Rider because he’s sexy af

How did you learn to ride a bicycle? My dad taught me

Based on something you’ve already done, how might you make it into the Guinness Book of World Records? Once I thought I could make the longest paper clip chain. I think I got it about 4 or 5 feet

What’s the closest you’ve come to becoming a pop star/winning an Oscar? I’m studying the same field of work, that’s about it

When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it? Couple weeks ago my band went to a bowl game for the first time

What is your concept of a fruitful day? Idk spending more time accomplishing things than lazing around 

What was your favorite thing to play with as a child? Why? Toy cats and dogs

If you could be any animal in the world for 24 hours, which animal would you be? Why? A cat, you can do a lot probably

Have you ever jumped out of a plane? No

If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be? Spiders, if there were no adverse consequences in the balance of the bug ecosystem

What is your best personal characteristic? Creativity

What is your favorite quote? Carpe Diem

If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do? Spy on people and maybe pull pranks

What is your favorite weird food combination? Bagels and Sunny D

If you had to be a flower, which one would you like to be and why? A lily because they’re pretty

If you were stranded on a desert island, what three books and three people would you take with you? A survival guide, Harry Potter, a journal, a hot guy, an outdoors expert, a friend

My biggest pet peeve is… Annoying mouth sounds

What is your favorite commercial? What commercial annoys you the most? My favorite is the Audi Prom commercial. My least favorite is just whatever I’ve seen 10 million times in a row on youtube or streaming sites

What’s the most interesting “Ice Breaker” Question you have ever been asked? What’s your favorite thing about yourself

If you could be an ice cream flavor, what would it be? Why? Chocolate

Name a turning point in your life that makes you smile/cry. Joining band 

If there were a holiday in your honor what would it celebrate? Singles Appreciation Day

What clubs were you a member of in High School? Are you still interested in any of the same things? Marching band which I still do, writers’ guild which I don’t

If you were to be on a reality TV show which one would you be on and why? Jeopardy

If you could be anything in the world, what would you be and why? Happy

If someone rented a billboard for you, what would you put on it? I’d try to make it creative

If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be? Touching my hands together behind my back so that they overlap

If you were a Smurf, what would your name be? I haven’t seen the smurfs

What is your worst personality characteristic? Not having anything to talk about

If you had to be a teacher of something, what would you teach? Elementary school

How would you like to be remembered? As funny, attractive, and creative

What is one thing that you constantly think about (other than material things)? Boys

What do you like best about your hometown? The playgrounds? 

Something interesting you might not know about me is… I don’t think there’s anything interesting people don’t know about me at this point

[toomanysurveys9]

On Saturdays, I like to… have something fun to do. i spend most of the week at home so if i can get out of the house, i’m happy.

Where would you like to be a missionary to? i wouldn’t like to be a missionary.

What’s better — toilet paper rolled over top or underneath? over the top, of course.

Which Scooby-Doo character are you most like (Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma, the monster, Scrappy?) uhh. i have no clue. probably velma out of all of those.

If you had to endure one natural disaster (i.e. hurricane, tornado, etc), what would you pick and why? i wouldn’t want to endure either. but i guess i better know how to handle a tornado.. this is a stupid question. i wouldn’t choose to endure any.

What movie or TV show do you take guilty pleasure in watching? none are really a guilty pleasure.. i don’t feel guilty about the shows i watch..

If you had to describe your day as a traffic sign, what would it be? hmm. probably a yield sign. there’s a lot i want to be happy about, but things keep happening and it’s like, oops, might wanna hold on the happiness.

What traditional stereotype would you classify yourself as? i don’t know. in high school, i guess i was a loner..

What “group” did you belong to in high school? outcasts. we were all the kids that didn’t fit into the other groups so we made our own i guess. lol.

If you wrote a book about yourself…what would it be about? well.. my life i suppose.

If your house were burning down, what would you take and why? phe, cocoa, phone, and as much baby stuff as i could grab..

Describe your favorite pair of PJ’s. fuzzy pajama bottoms (star wars) and a t-shirt.

How many handbags do you own? i have a couple bags.

If this were your last day alive, what would you say to your friends? i’m so lucky to have you guys in my life. please take care of jacob and wyatt for me (i’m far enough along they could take wyatt and he’d be fine).

What is your very favorite part of your day? bedtime. lol.

What is your best scar? Tell the story of how you got it. i don’t have one.. there is an outline of part of a fry basket, though, from when i worked at mcdonald’s in high school and the manager pushed me into a fry basket i had just taken out..

You win a million dollars, but you have to give half to a charity. Which charity do you pick, and what do you do with the rest of the money? half would probably go to the pet refuge (no-kill shelter). rest would go to family getting proper housing, paying off student loans and other bills, college fund/savings for wyatt, and whatever jake wanted.

Describe your dream wedding where money is no option. i was happy with mine and jake’s wedding. it was perfect.

What kind of deodorant do you use? usually i get secret.

If you were a spy what would your alias be? i don’t know? i’ve never thought about it.

Do you have a birth mark? Where? Does it look like anything? inside of my upper thigh. it doesn’t look like anything..

You are planning the most awesome dinner party of your life. Which 3 celebrities/historical figures (past or present) would you add to your guest list to keep the dinner talk interesting? i just love jensen, misha, and jared so those three.

What is your favorite sport, and which team of that sport do you cheer for? i’m not into sports.

Which would you rather have a kiss or a hug? Why? right now, a hug.

If you could be a pair of jeans what style would you be?  Why? probably skinny jeans. i used to wear them most.

You have multiple personalities, describe some of them. i don’t though.

What is the best thing you have done in your life? went to college, even if i can’t use my degree just yet because of bethel.

If you were blind for the rest of your life… what would you miss seeing the most? family and friends.

What household chore do you hate the most? cleaning the damn bathroom. it’s disgusting and no one else will do it.

What is your most disappointing moment in life? graduating college but not getting my diploma because bethel screwed me over money-wise.

When have you laughed the hardest? Cried? i don’t know.

If you had a “theme song” that played whenever you walk into a room full of people, what would it be? probably carry on my wayward son or something cool like that. XD i don’t honestly know. i’m so tired. lol.

What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? eyes.

What time period from the past would you most have liked to live in and why? i don’t know. since i’m a female, this is probably one of the better times for me, but the 20′s or something else also would be interesting..

What is the best reward anyone can give you? just recognition that i’m doing well or i’m enough..

If you had a band what would you name it? probably something lame. i’m not good at that sort of stuff. lol.

Do you like fruit? Vegetables? i prefer more fruits than vegetables, but i like both.

What can someone do to encourage you? say encouraging things. smile. just be present and positive.

If you could be one for just 24 hours, what cereal box cartoon character would you be? Why? hmm. i guess lucky from lucky charms. i just really like the cereal right now and his issues don’t seem as horrible as some of the others. lol.

What was the best thing that happened to you this weekend? got out of the house after spending a lot of time in it.

What is your favorite animal? List three adjectives to explain your choice. owl - gorgeous, intelligent, and hunter.

What is your favorite color? List three adjectives to explain your choice. black - dark, bold, fathomless.

It’s a very hot and muggy day. You desperately want something very cool and refreshing to quench your thirst and revitalize your body. What would you drink — either make your own or store-bought. probably a smoothie or slushie.

You discover that the person you’re head-over-heels interested in loves a good homemade & handmade dessert. What will you concoct when you have this person over? he LOVES no bake cookies. i should make him some sometime actually.

What would you leave in your will for the person you care about the most? well, he’d already get our dogs and son, obviously. i can’t think of anything i care for more than those..

What do you consider to the most valuable thing you own: when you were a child/teenager/now? when i was a child - probably my baby dolls and barbies. lol. when i was a teenager - my ipod. now - probably my boxes of memory stuff.

What’s the kindest act you have ever seen done? i don’t know. there have actually been quite a lot. i don’t know what was the kindest..

If you could have any job in the world, which one would you want? counselor i guess.

What are your best/worst subjects in school and what subjects would you want to learn now? my best was any english or choir class. worst was math in all forms. i don’t know what subjects i’d want to learn now, besides more psychology ones.

What are you most talented at? listening and being there for people.

What is your worst nightmare today? something happening to wyatt, or any of my loved ones.

How often do you clean between your toes? anytime i shower.

What is your favorite way to waste time at work without getting caught? i don’t currently work.

If you could have had the starring role in one film already made, which movie would you pick? one for the money. i just really liked the books, although the movie could be so much better..

If you were to perform in the circus, what would you do? i don’t think i’d do well in the circus.

If you could eliminate one thing you do each day in the bathroom so that you never had to do it again, what would it be? brushing my teeth.

You were just given a yacht. What would you name it? probably something lame. again, i suck at that sort of stuff.

If you could have been told one thing that you weren’t told when you were a teenager, what would you like to have heard? don’t worry about the little things so much and enjoy life.

You’ve just been hired to a promotions position at Kellog Co. What would you put in a new breakfast cereal box as a gimmick? i don’t know?

Just like “Everybody Wang Chung tonight!”, what action would your name be if it were a verb? okay. this is getting annoying.

Name your favorite song. right now, i really like better man by little big town.

If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be? i want to get a dreamcatcher. cliche, i know.

If you could play any musical instrument, what would it be and why? If you already play an instrument(s), what do you play and why? i know the basics of piano but i would love to learn how to really play. otherwise, electric bass guitar so it wasn’t just sitting in my closet at home.

When trick-or-treating as a kid, was there any kind of candy that you didn’t like to get? honey o’s or whatever.

Why do you live in the Washington DC area? i don’t.

What is your favorite memory of Christmases past? just spending time with family has always been my favorite.

What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? nothing.

If a movie was being made of your life and you could choose the actor/actress to play you, who would you choose and why? zooey deschanel. i just like her i guess.

Paper or plastic? depends what it’s for..

What was the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten? alligator.

What do you keep in the trunk of your car? random junk.

When you were in grade school, what did you want to be when you grew up? Why? country singer. love to sing. or a crime scene investigator because i loved those types of shows.

If you owned a CB radio what would your “handle” be? no clue.

If you were given 24 hrs to live, what would you do? make them do a c-section and spend time with wyatt and family.

If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be? (Note: both guys & gals have to answer this question) singing i guess.

What do you think the most ultimate gift of the world is? i don’t know..

What is your earliest childhood memory? singing at my grandparents.

If you had one extra hour of free time a day, how would you use it? sleep or with family.

What CD is in your CD player right now? i don’t think any.

Name the most famous person you’ve had a face to face encounter with. nicole c. mullen.

Name your favorite children’s story. oh my gosh, i don’t know. i loved so many and i’ve always been majorly into reading.

If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why? kayla because i don’t get to see her much lately.

What person in the Bible do you most closely identify with? none. i’m not into all that so i don’t know anyone.

What article of clothing most closely describes your personality? t-shirt i guess.

If you were to write a book what would it be about? some kind of fantasy thing probably.

How many rings before you answer the phone? depends who it is.

What is the first thing you think of when you wake in the morning? wondering what time it is and then going bathroom.

If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it? pay off my loans and bills. savings. give a good chunk to my parents and jake’s mom and our siblings. put money aside for wyatt. whatever jake wanted. oh, get jake, wyatt, and i a nice house. i’d also give quite a bit to kayla.

If you had to, what part of your body would you get pierced? maybe another in my ear.

Who was your favorite teacher and why? in college, lafountain probably. he was just different than the others and more interesting. plus i had a lot less work to do which was nice because my psychology courses were pretty crazy and ridiculous.

What makes you feel the most secure? being with family and kayla.

Who do you admire the most? my parents. they’re pretty amazing and have both been through a lot. they do so much for us kids, even now...

Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? What was it? yeah. i used to have a dream where i got kidnapped all the time..

What was your nickname growing up? marley, marley harley, sissy.

Who was your hero when you were a child, and what did you do to be like them? shania twain i guess. i don’t know what i did specifically. i did try to go vegetarian but that didn’t even last a few hours. lol.

Peanut or plain? plain i guess.

What is your favorite cartoon character & why? gir from invader zim. he’s adorable.

How did you learn to ride a bicycle? my parents taught me.

Based on something you’ve already done, how might you make it into the Guinness Book of World Records? nothing comes to mind.

What’s the closest you’ve come to becoming a pop star/winning an Oscar? lol, not very. i guess when i auditioned for american idol couple years ago to make good on a promise i made jacob?

When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it? i was checked to see if wyatt was head down for the first time, does that count?

What is your concept of a fruitful day? having things that need done and getting them done.

What was your favorite thing to play with as a child? Why? probably barbies.

If you could be any animal in the world for 24 hours, which animal would you be? Why? owl. they’re pretty and fly.

Have you ever jumped out of a plane? no. nor will i ever.

If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be? disease/illness.

What is your best personal characteristic? loyalty.

What is your favorite quote? i don’t know anymore.

If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do? travel somewhere.

What is your favorite weird food combination? sour cream and onion chips with ketchup.

If you had to be a flower, which one would you like to be and why? lilac. they’re so pretty.

If you were stranded on a desert island, what three books and three people would you take with you? people: jacob, jon, and kayla. books: two survival books, and city of bones (i just like it).

My biggest pet peeve is… people not being real..

What is your favorite commercial? What commercial annoys you the most? i don’t like commercials.

What’s the most interesting “Ice Breaker” Question you have ever been asked? i don’t know.

If you could be an ice cream flavor, what would it be? Why? moose tracks. i don’t have a reason.

Name a turning point in your life that makes you smile/cry. summer 2016. :D

If there were a holiday in your honor what would it celebrate? procrastination.

What clubs were you a member of in High School? Are you still interested in any of the same things? choir. super mileage. and i still love music and singing.

If you were to be on a reality TV show which one would you be on and why? hunted. just because i could see jake making us. ha.

If you could be anything in the world, what would you be and why? happy. it’d just be nice.

If someone rented a billboard for you, what would you put on it? i have no reason for a billboard..

If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be? procrastinating.

If you were a Smurf, what would your name be? damned if i know.

What is your worst personality characteristic? worry too much.

If you had to be a teacher of something, what would you teach? basic psychology.

How would you like to be remembered? i just want people to remember i cared and was there for them..

What is one thing that you constantly think about (other than material things)? wyatt. worries. family.

What do you like best about your hometown? traffic isn’t horrible all the time.

Something interesting you might not know about me is… i have way too many unfinished notebooks.

[vida-amour]

ehh

MASSIVE ASK POST (+100)

1. favorite season? Autumn

2. prettiest thing u own? My pc

3. do u prefer to be outside or inside? Inside

4. furthest ever traveled? Florida

5. what’s your aesthetic in 3 words? I don’t think I have one

6 favorite gemstone? opal, sapphire

7 best thing about yourself, in your opinion- I am relatively accepting. 

8 best thing about yourself, in other’s opinion- My boyfriend said I am honest. 

9 what’s your weirdest fear?- The drain in my bathtub

10 weirdest dream you’ve ever had?- There were roaches all over an abandon house

11 go-to hiding place- bathroom

12 favorite place in your house- Living room

13 earliest memory- Christmases with all of my siblings

14 do you believe in ghosts?- yes

15 favorite sea creature?- Seahorse (until I found out theyre not the size of dogs)

16 cold showers or hot baths?- Hot bath

17 satin or lace? Lace

18 gold or silver? Silver

19 hoops or pearl earrings? Hoops

20 aesthetic song- Imported- Jessie Reyez

21 top 5 songs-  Jessie Reyez- Apple juice, Imported, Figures, Great One. Chance the rapper- We go high, hey ma, sun come down. Mac Miller- Anything by him// Also anything that comes out of Billie Eilish’s mouth

22 favorite time of the day? Night

23 favorite part of your body? My butt, maybe. I like my eye color too. 

24 do you drink alcohol? Nope

25 dream job from when u were a kid- Teacher

26 messy or clean? Clean

27 tea or coffee? Neither

28 favorite book- Perks of being a Wallflower

29 zodiac sign? Libra

30 extrovert or introvert? Introvert

31 celebrity crush? Billie Eilish

32 early bird or night owl? Night Owl

33 do you believe in love at first sight? Yeah

34 favorite book quote-  “It's much easier to not know things sometimes. Things change and friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody. I wanted to laugh. Or maybe get mad. Or maybe shrug at how strange everybody was, especially me. I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and than make the choice to share it with other people. You can't just sit their and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things. I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm going to be who I really am. And I'm going to figure out what that is. And we could all sit around and wonder and feel bad about each other and blame a lot of people for what they did or didn't do or what they didn't know. I don't know. I guess there could always be someone to blame. It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. Because it's okay to feel things. I was really there. And that was enough to make me feel infinite. I feel infinite.” ― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

And here you are living, despite it all. - Milk and Honey

I have 10000000s of book quotes but cant think of them all. 

35 three wishes you have- To be happy, to lose weight and love my body, to be with my boyfriend forever  

36 do you believe in magic? Yes

37 do you believe in soulmates? Yes

38 zoo or aquarium? Zoo

39 cats or dogs? Both

40 how many languages do you speak? One

41 how has your life changed from last year? I have grown to realize that not everyone is who they pretend to be. I have moved into my own place, and I am learning to be myself. 

42 why do you have your name/url? I chose it in highschool, It means Love life.

43 do you keep secrets? how well? Yes, very well. 

44 favorite animal- Raccoon/Giraffe

45 what is love to you? Love is acceptance, patience, understanding, affection, and attention. 

46 future children name? Not sure yet

47 favorite color- I love all colors, I lean toward pinks and yellows.

48 favorite movie- Perks of being a Wallflower. 

49 cuddles or kisses? Both.

50 if you could have any person in the world over for dinner, who would be? Billie Eilish, Ellen, Alana Arbucci

51 someone to bring back from the dead- My pap

52 lipstick or lipgloss? Gloss

53 are you street smart or book smart? Both I think

54 your biggest strength- My ability to see the good in everyone (Also my biggest weakness.)

55 favorite sport- Hockey

56 favorite drink? Water

57 favorite winter activity- Watching movies

58 last time you went abroad- Never

59 favorite dessert- Chocolate Chip Cookies

60 favorite artist- Mac Miller, Juice Wrld, Jessie Reyez, Billie Eilish, Chance the Rapper

61 favorite singer/band- ^^

62 favorite dancing song- Feels like home- Bea Miller/Jessie Reyez, Jessie Reyez- Great One, Journey- Don’t stop believing 

63 favorite crying song- Good News - Mac Miller rn

64 do you wear glasses? Yes

65 first thing you do when you wake up- Check the time

66 how long do u usually sleep for? 5-6 hours

67 one thing you lost and you want back- Self esteem 

68 biggest fear- Stink bugs

69 favorite carnival ride- I normally dont ride any of them

70 do u have birthmarks or scars? both

71 favorite childhood memory- Making up dances with my friends and showing them to our parents.

72 what do u think about during a storm? How scary thunder is

73 one word to describe your life? Stressful but full of love

74 craziest thing ever done- Decided randomly to get on a plane when I was 18

75 do u have piercings or tattoos? Ears pierced, and belly button

76 favorite flower- Lillie's of the valley, bleeding hearts

77 do u have any pets? A dog

78 describe your style- Sweatpants often

79 choose one thing to change about yourself- My weight, and nose

80 do u play any musical instruments? nope

81 if your life was a movie would it be a comedy, a rom-com, action film or drama? Drama

82 do u prefer dark, dramatic makeup or natural makeup? All Makeup!!

83 favorite perfume- none really

84 biggest fandom- none

85 favorite YouTuber(s)- Sara K, Alana Arbucci, Cody Ko, Noel Miller, Savannah Brymer, Tati Westbrook, Andrea Russet

86 OTP- None

87 country, state where you were born- US

88 your parent’s name- ---

89 favorite snack- Chocolate Chips

90 pasta or pizza- Pizza

91 pen or pencil- Pencil

92 blue or black ink- Black

93 paper books or electronic books? Paper

94 history or geography? History

95 pastel or neon- Neon

97  soap or body wash- Soap

98  conditioner, no conditioner, or 2 in 1 shampoo & conditioner- Conditoner

99 singing in the shower or not- Yes

100  listen to music while bathing or silence- Silence

101  blow dry, towel dry, or air dry your hair- Air dry

102 morning or night showers? Night

[teresaoman]

Interview with Cybele and Teresa

Cybele – Hey Teresa! How are you! What have you been up to since our shoot? Where are you right now? Teresa – Long time no chat!!!! I've just arrived back in sunny Sydney after having an absolute blast overseas for 5 months.

Tell me about the maison we shot in for model-maison. The pussy manor! A wonderful abode with 3 happy ladies and two happy kitties.

Where was the house? Edgecliff (Sydney) close to the water!

Who did you live with? Two of my bestest friends- Chels and Sarah. We go back to high school days!

What was your favourite spot in the house? Snuggled up in bed with my wonderful ladies

What was your local cafe and bar? Chargrill Charlie’s- the devil wings are absolutely amazing

And tell me about those two cute kittens! Tabby and francoise!!!! Pretty sisters that Sarah rescued. Francoise is pretty posh so sometimes we call her French sauce too. Tabs on the other hand is a little more shameless.

If you were Milo and Otis, and you had to trek across mountains and rivers to get home, where is home sweet home? Where does your heart lie? Lennox head At my parents house. It’s an absolute sanctuary! You really start to appreciate growing up next to the beach when you're in these massive cities all the time.

If you are Milo? Who is Otis? Miss Sarah Marland. She’s the one !

Where is your favourite second home? Tell me about it. Why do you love it? I love being in Sydney, it’s such a luxury to have the city beach combination.

Tell me about the first house you lived in. What are your earliest memories of it? It was on the Sunshine Coast- I definitely remember the German Christmases. Speaking of- not long now !!!

If you could build a fantasy model-maison home, anywhere in the world, where the only limit was your imagination- not even gravity would get in the way, tell me all about it. I want details. A beautiful big home on an avocado farm on the South Island of New Zealand. There would be a massive disco room where Austin powers always hosts the party, red and white mushrooms growing everywhere, giant aquariums, a trampoline room and a big lake to go kayaking on- just to name a few things. Pretty much a beautiful and picturesque sanctuary of FUN!

Haha can I come?! I had so much fun on our shoot styling you – your clothes are a mix vintage and rare eclectic pieces. Tell me about your most rare/unique garment. Where did you get it from? If it had a past life, what do imagine that was? I love collecting pieces on my travels. You find the most amazing and exotic stuff plus wearing it is a wonderful reminder of the place you visited. My favorite most special piece is a jacket I bought in India. It has beautiful bright embroidery of peacocks, flowers and Hindu symbols all over it. It’s also still a little dirtied up with orange soil. I know that in its life before mine it was made with lots of time and love by someone who is probably very special.

It’s hard to find unique clothes in this global world. Where is your favourite destination for shopping? India was by the far best! The market shopping was insane. You can get everything! One-off Bollywood pieces you find whilst rummaging out the back of a store, beautiful crystals and some interesting camel leather just to name a few things. However, For second hand clothes shopping I feel America is the winner!

As a model, there is a lot of travelling. What are the most important things that you take with you, no matter where you are in the world. My cow boy hat I bought in Nashville, it’s my adventure hat! Some moisturizer to keep the skin hydrated, a camera and an open mind.

What is it about modeling that you find most rewarding? Traveling and meeting amazing new people.

Any advice to girls and boys who are starting out in the industry? Something you wish someone told you when you started?

Unfortunately it’s not as easy as you’d think. It’s a serious job, but you have to remember to always have fun.

When you are modeling, and the shoot is shit for whatever reason, what do you say in your head to get through the day? Do you sing? Or just zone out? I haven’t had any bad shoots yet which is bloody brilliant. sometimes if a person your working with is giving you some negative kind of vibes -I just try to stay positive and block it out!

What’s next for you? Anything fun planned for 2015? Definitely some more film work! I have such a blast with that and most definitely a lot more traveling!

What is your song for 2014? Chicken fried – zac brown band

What do you wear around the house when I’m not there photographing your every move? Usually some ridiculous kind of outfit bright comfy outfit that makes me look like I’m 12!

Thanks so much for your time Teresa. YOU ROCK!

[woodworkingpastor]

First Sunday of Advent, 2017

Call to Worship

What are you longing for, people of God?

For a world where children have time and space to be innocent; for swords to be beaten into plowshares; for all persons to be valued; and for the name of our God to be exalted among all the nations.

In the beautiful places of the world, we catch glimpses of these things; but much ugliness and destruction prevails. We light this candle expressing our anticipation of better things—Godly things—yet to be revealed.

This is our hope!  While we are waiting, come Lord Jesus!

Lighting the first Advent candle

Prayer of Invocation                  

        We remember days, all-powerful, all knowing God, when things seemed simpler.  We marked off December days on our Advent calendars, waiting for that special morning when there would be presents under the Christmas tree, and that day would be filled with gifts, and family, and food.

        Now we know more.  Our eyes have been opened to the ugliness of the world that exists right alongside the beauty.  Somedays you seem more distant to us than you once did.

        O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence, and that we would experience you like we once did, when you did awesome deeds that we did not expect.

       We confess that the distance we feel from you is of our own doing. Yet, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter.  Do not remember our iniquity forever.  Forgive us, that we might be restored to your presence and enjoy you again.

       While we are waiting, come, Lord Jesus.  Come.  Amen

The work of God’s Hand -- Isaiah 64:1-9

           As we gather for worship today, I can honestly say “Happy New Year!”  Lest you think that I’m like a lot of the TV ads we’ve been seeing lately and have jumped a holiday, let me remind you that according to the Christian calendar, the new year begins today, the first Sunday of Advent.  So “Happy New Year!” indeed.

           Advent is the antithesis of Christmas.  It would be easy to go down the litany of complaint with Christmas coming too soon here, but perhaps we shouldn’t be afraid of that.

·          Halloween was barely “cold in the grave” before TV ads turned to Christmas.

·          There is the annual controversy of what time on Thanksgiving Day that “Black Friday” sales can begin.

·          Radio stations stir up all manner of controversy with how early they choose to change over to Christmas music.

·          And, personally, if I never hear I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas again, that would be great.

            But there is a better way of talking about all of this.  In the current issue of Messenger magazine, pastor Eric Landrum of Litiz Church of the Brethren, reminds us of how important it is for Christians to be shaped by the church calendar, and not our secular calendar. Eric writes:

“The Christian calendar gives us an alternate way of marking time…It’s a calendar that attributes meaning to our day-to-day journey of faith. We have chosen to mark time according to the gospel story…but only if we pay attention to it…More often, it’s the secular calendar that we allow to form us. We know more about Black Friday sales that the cost of Good Friday. We celebrate the Fourth of July and the birth of our nation more than Pentecost and the birth of the church. We count down the hours until time off for Labor Day, but few of us know when Ascension Day occurs. How we celebrate time speaks to what we value in our hearts” (November 2017, 13).

            We need Advent—we might need it more than we need Christmas.  The hymns are not our favorites. But Advent serves as a necessary corrective to a culture which values constant happiness, entertainment, consumerism and winning as the only indicators of a successful life. Even when we know that this isn’t true, and that there are many other things that are much more important to consider in our living, we too often act like these are our values.  

           Advent forces us to admit that sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we offend people—even people we didn’t know we were offending. Sometimes our best intentions do great harm. Sometimes we are badly off-track in the ways we invest our time, energy, and money.

           So Advent is given to us as a penitential season. Not a sentimental season like we often wish for, but a penitential season.  A season of repentance, where we acknowledge our sins and prepare ourselves for a renewed relationship with God.

Isaiah 64:1-9 begins our Advent journey by helping us realize that we must deal with God on God’s terms, not our own.  

            Like most Old Testament passages, we need to remember this passage in its historical context; this passage was enabled by the inability of God’s people to recognize that they have been worshipping God on their own terms, not on God’s terms. They were guilty of substitutionary discipleship: they talked a good game, but when living their faith began to cost them power and privilege and prestige, they were willing for someone to be righteous for them.  God’s invitation to them—and to us—is pretty clear.  Love God, and love one another, with equal attention. We do that by paying attention with the facts on the ground, not the way you wish things would be.  We can never be disciples in general.  We must be disciples in particular, in a brutally honest relationship to how things actually are.

           This is mostly what the OT books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, as well as nearly all of the prophets, are about.  These books are “fly-over” country for many persons, but if we have the patience to read through them and capture the big picture of what is happening and not get overly bogged down in (or bored to death by) the particular details, then what you find is that over a period of several hundred years, the God’s people steadily and consistently walked away from God.

           This walking away took many forms, and the Biblical writers talk about this in the plainest terms: the sins of the people were both social and personal.  They worshipped other gods; did not honor their marriage commitments; loaned money to poor folk at exorbitant interest rates; did not treat aliens and strangers with grace and dignity; rigged the judicial system in favor of the wealthy; did not bring proper sacrifices to God in the Temple.  There was no place in their personal or public dealings that remained untouched by sin.

           When we read those “fly-over” parts of Scripture, we read about the invasion of their land and the destruction of Jerusalem and their Temple and the exile of the leading citizens of their land. God’s punishment was shocking in the brutal way it was delivered by the Babylonian army, but it was crushing because the people believed they were truly exceptional, and that God’s favor would never be removed. They were like that person we all know who is—in their own eyes, at least—always right about everything; ones who “may not always be right, but are never in doubt.”

           Our Scripture texts for these first three Sundays of Advent come from a time after all of that, when the people have had several generations of penance to wonder what went wrong. How did they end up in the place they did, and why has God seemed so unresponsive to their concerns.

Remembering God

           In Isaiah 64, the people are starting to remember who they are and whose they are again.

O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence—as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil—to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence! (Isaiah 64:1-2)

Isaiah 64 reaches back to the earliest days of their formation—back to passages of Scripture we read this fall—the Exodus. They are remembering another day when God redeemed them out of a different kind of trouble, and all the world around them took notice.

           It’s probably not unlike our own nostalgic memories of Christmases past, when life seemed simpler (probably because in our youth and innocence, it was simpler) and safer. We recognize the complexity of our current living, and we even recognize the ways our own shortcomings have complicated our lives

           But the wisdom Isaiah 64 gives to us is that it doesn’t only remember the times when their relationship with God was good; the prophet also helps the people remember why the relationship went bad. The people are forced to remember that in seeking relationship with a God of their own making, they forfeited a relationship with the God who is.  

You meet those who gladly do right, those who remember you in your ways. But you were angry, and we sinned; because you hid yourself we transgressed. We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth (Isaiah 64:5-6)

The people are where they are because when they chose to deal with God on their own terms, they did not realize the disaster they were eventually choosing.

           And with this memory, the people come to the point where they are ready to deal with God on God’s terms.  

Yet, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand (verse 8)

Recognizing God as “Father” is for many people one of their most meaningful ways to think about God. But in the Old Testament, it is a comparatively rare way of addressing God.  “King” and “Rock” and “Judge” and “Holy One” are much more frequent.  But these words help us deal with God as God is, and remember to align ourselves with God’s coming in the vulnerability of the manger and the cross.

           What if Advent came to be a time we agreed to look at life from last place, admitting that we are powerless to overcome what is wrong in our lives?

·          That might look like the sexual abuser finally forced to come to terms with the pain they have caused.

·          It might look like the spouse realizing that their marriage is failing because of their own selfish choices.

·          It might look like an acknowledgment that our efforts to be generous to those who are poor don’t always help.

·          It might mean being honest about our own attempts at substitutionary discipleship, and bravely consider what it would actually mean for us to follow Jesus.

            Would an honest celebration of Advent help us? What if we didn’t decorate, didn’t shop, didn’t listen to Christmas carols, until Christmas Day? When we remember our own spiritual need this Advent, perhaps having the children’s play on the first night of Advent is the best thing.  We love it because they’re our kids, and it somewhat nostalgic.  But in the cute chaos of a Christmas pageant, our task is to remember the One who is in the manger; the One who came to save; the One for whom we are preparing ourselves for his eventual return.