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straykidmagines · 6 years ago

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hatstall ; han jisung

❝ for the nth time, my patronus is a squirrel!! ❞

➱ synopsis: you have rather got stuck with jisung, the one and only guy who boiled your blood, in making parchment scrolls, a.k.a essays, and who knows, he might not be a bad guy at all. ➱ pairings: gryffindor!hanjisung ❥ slytherin!reader ➱ genre: fluff, harrypotter!au, slight enemiestolovers!au ➱ word count: 5k ➱ warnings: profanities

han jisung is a quite known gryffindor himself in hogwarts, of course, because of his loud, proud, boisterous and friendly self; everyone likes him

he's like the actual representation of a lion; a quite brave and strong of a man himself, and he although knew that

and that side of him made the sorting hat decided that if he would be the best if he could be put in the gryffindor house

not to mention it took the hat about 4 minutes of debating where to put him clearly making him almost a hatstall

jisung is a proud, cunning and an ambitious man and the hat could see it very clearly, which could fit him in the slytherin

honestly it doesn't bother jisung the slightest where he was going to be storted at, he was just too happy that he is studying at hogworts now

besides of his friendly attitude that everyone likes about him, he is also a troublemaker if you wouldn't mind (which adds up a little but of a slytherin trait)

he would pull up pranks here and there, to students he known or not known of — not the teachers of course, he's too scared to be expelled or get detention either

but the students didn't bother a bit for his pranks we're totally harmless and it is humorous

did i mention that everyone really likes him?? that everytime he passes through the hallways or the great hall like everyone greets him?? and most certainly girls swoon over him

well, except you

you didn't loathe the guy that much, nor like the guy neither — it just that you don't prefer his guts, but it distraught jisung

bloody hell what has the boy even done to you?

well, perhaps he did something, numerous times that you cannot count it anymore

you were also one of his victims for his pranks, quite certainly, his favorite

yeah, everyone wasn't bothered by the pranks that jisung has set up to them, aren't they? but you, oh no, you were beyond pissed since there is not a day he won't boil your blood

it's just that their pranks differ from you, yours are, to put it this way, horrible. by mean horrible it is really horrible

not to mention, one time he made you eat slugs and it totally made your whole system gag to the sensation of those disgusting creatures making its way out of your mouth

scratch that — you really despise him

it wasn't really intentional or anything, he was just goofing around and forgot that he's holding his wand

"HAHAHAHAHA try eating slugs y/n!"

poof, you vomited one, after another, after another and so on. bad idea

since that day, there wouldn't also be a chance that you won't throw him your deadliest glare every time you cross paths

ok but jisung regreted he did that, and the other pranks he's done to you, like really he couldn't stand someone hating him because duh?? he's used to people liking him and smiling at him, not staring at him angrily

especially it was you, and he found you very cute and was totally not whipped for you— oopz toTaLLy nOt

you we're a slytherin, and you we're baffed as of why you were put there like "oh wow i'm slytherin?? thAnKs sorting hat i might as well slide there in to the slytherin table— you get me? hAh nO bYe"

"i change my mind, you're not in slytherin"

ok but maybe because of your stubbornness, or something within you that you can't draw but the hat could see through it brought you to slytherin or whatever that is — you didn't mind anyways, slytherin is cool yeah you like snakes hiss hiss

you were just like jisung actually, the sorting hat were confused which house to put you as well, mind that you were this close to be a hatstall, closer than jisung; slytherin or gryffindor

you we're brave and all yet there were strong sparks of dexterousness glistening into your eyes so oof— slytherin it is

like wow?? you soulmates or what

any who, you and your disinterested slytherin ass are in defense against the dark arts class alongside jisung and his enthusiastic gryffindor ass — yeah, the sorting had did a great job

you boredly doodle onto your notes in which you would likely to regret later for not actually taking notes as jisung would keep on pestering you to pay attention to what madam kim is babbling about — probably nonsense for you

you didn't really want to sit with him, honestly. he was late for a few minutes and there wasn't any vacant seat left besides you and there's nothing you could do about it, even if you would protest — probably you would end up scolded by madame kim so, nope

but probably sitting besides him was the most worse canvas you could ever paint of, like his gryffindor ass won't stop bothering you until you pay attention to class

"ppPpSSstT snake pay attention to the class!!"

"shut it you uncultured chipmunk"

"for your information my patronus is a squirrel not a chipmunk!!"

"is there anything you would like to share to our class, mr. han and ms. l/n?" uh oh, your bickering went to an end as your teacher abruptly slammed your book on your desk making a loud thud

"oh of course not ms. kim, we were just—" you paused, unable to think of one, however jisung manage to continue your statement "very enlightened with the lesson, yes,"

madame kim didn't bought it, probably smelling fishes fresh from the lake but shrugged it off anyways. you let out a sigh of relief, but oh boy you thought that would be just it but nope

"so as i heard, my class is very interesting," she paused to look at the two of you who gulped at the sudden attention "well then, i want you all to write three parchment scrolls about inferius and dementors,"

then there were groans and complaints reverberating in the room from the crowd of students, much more to jisung hence he complained the most, muttering curses — he loathes writing essays

"the due is in the next two weeks, and the good thing is that you and your seatmate will partner up to finish that so i expect no one slacking off, class dismissed,"

wow pretty great!! you could get to have a partner to work it with, oh goodie, less work to do — ding dong you are wrong, especially jisung, your seatmate, is your partner for this essay and you knew you were doomed

"man, i should have sat with seungmin, that would be less shit work, with his ravenclaw ass, that could've done it"

"now won't you just go back in time using a timeturner and say to your past self to sit besides seungmin"

"good idea, han, but where could i possibly get one?"

"i don't know, lee know, aren't they all broken?"

"broken who? my bones? yeah that was a tough quidditch match we got there last year" minho, a friend of jisung's and someone from your house that you are quite fond of, says as he punches his arm slightly before strutting away

anyways, as minho mentioned, yes jisung is also a quidditch player — honestly him and his other 8 friends were

despite of them 9 being sorted into different houses, they were still good friends, yeah. but when quidditch comes, oh boy, friendship who? idk that bitc

and jisung's position beater, a very tough one perhaps

he's very good at aiming oh wow, like one time when they were battling against with the slytherin — the bludger went straight at minho even he was on the other side of the field

that wasn't intentional, honestly!!

not that minho minded about it, he was cool about it, actually he was used about it, especially he tend to do it as well to his other opponents (even though he's a chaser)

ok so let's go back, as i was saying you went to your other class which is transfiguration

but before that, you told jisung that you should finish your shit ton paper work already as soon as possible cause duh 6th year is the most tiring year

and he was like "oh ok" and left you for his next class

which made you really pissed cause?? does he expect you to do all of the work? you think dumbledore not

ok so you are double pissed at him now as of this day and quadrillion times more if you add up the other times he made you

ok so days are fast aproaching and you barely even wrote a letter on your phat blank parchment and you literally do not want to fail because you do not want to go back to 6th year again

so when you saw your partner goofing around the hallways as usual, you grabbed his collar in first instincts

ok totally a bad idea because his friends, acquaintances, or basically who is fond of jisung (but he barely knew about them) stared at your disappearing figure in awe like — they thot u hate the guy?? like they basically knew you do!!

but you didn't mind them because grades are more important to you than your pride

"whoa i thought you don't like me—"

"shut it, chipmunk,"

"for the nth time, my patronus is a squirrel!!"

so you dragged him towards the library where you stayed before trying to at least start a thing but, you sucked at writing?? so oh no

"wow are we friends now or what? you know you could've just told me that you wanted to talk — i mean i aways free, for you!"

did he just lowkey flirted with you??

you roll your eyes at him "listen, assthwat, i'm only dragging you here at the library because we need to finish that essay and we only have a few days left and i totally don't want to get low grades at dada especially ms. kim is very generous of low grades,"

right, so you both started to work at it but oof it didn't do well because half of the time he was making up puns or jokes while you hissed at him to stop

but thankfully you finished one scroll already but the contents of it could not make your grades exeed like, half of it is probably rewinding words, rewinding ideas cause bruh you've run out. so you gave up

then you both packed your things up, since time has already passed and wow it's almost dinner time!! and you just spent three hours with him in the library like ok

and you decided to go to the great hall together cause bruh you two are going there anyways

so when you arrived, you totally shivered from the stares that you got

lmao but ok, you didn't gave a single shit and went to your slytherin table and jisung to his gryffindor

"ok spill the tea, so does that mean that you didn't hate him now, you friends already?" minho nudged you form your side, an irritating smug smrik plastered on his cherry lips

you roll your eyes at him and gave him a look, "first and foremost, no i still despised him — he didn't even apologize and for your information we just made our essay cause ms. kim was being a bitch ok shut it and eat,"

you heard minho scoffed and didn't continue to tease you more and now is immersed in eating the food on the table

on the next few days, you both agreed to work on that shitty essay faster so you both could do your individual assignments and projects already. you spent time more on the free times

then one time he finally had his gryffindor courage to ask you as of why you hate him

"so uhm, y/n, i was just wondering..." he hesitated for a bit, biting his lower lip due to nervousness

and you totally did not found that cute :)) tOtally not!!

"yeh?"

"why do you hate me?"

you stared at him, about to throw another insult or whatnot but he looks like a sad squirrel like he's so cute!! and he was pouting and all!! him pouting is cute!! and you cannot resist it like sisjhusjvss ok calm down

"i-i well, i don't really hate you, i was just uhm... i don't know, maybe a little but annoyed and pissed because you keep on pulling up pranks on me and didn't bother to apologize one bit,"

oH OH OOHH

"IWVWIWGEUEV NGHHHH Y/N I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE!! I'M SO SORRY I EXCHANGED YOUR PUMPKIN JUICE TO A NASTY SLIME DRINK!! I'M SORRY I MADE YOU EAT SLUGS!! I'M SO SORRY!! AND SORRY FOR THE OTHER PRANKS I DID TO YOU, PLEASE FORGIVE ME!"

ok but he was about to cry really loud (ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᴬ ˢᴼᶠᵀᴵᴱ ᵁᵂᵁ) but the librarian and the other smart-ass ravenclaws sushed him

you can't really just cannot forgive the guy since he looked very sincere (even he shouted his appology) so oof you went uwu

"lower it down jisung! and ok fine, i forgive you,"

"i'm s-sorry i know you can't forgive me at all i really did a horrible thing to you — wait what?"

ok but he was just the happiest person now because yay no one hates him now!!

"really?! so we friends now?" you nod

much as you hate to admit to minho, you and jisung are in a good terms now

then he flashed a grin and went to your side and hugged you, the little contact made you blush cause you were not used to it! you let him anyways but as you noticed he won't let you go, you cleared your throat and he was back to his senses

he pulled away, chuckling nervously as he scratched his back "yeah, sorry 'bout that"

you really expected minho to tease you about it but what you didn't expect is that he started saying "ya'kno, lee know, you two could make a good couple" "you two look cute together, honestly"

ok you literally just lost your shit likE wHat?? you just made friends with jisung but he had this idea of you both dating? — pfft bloody hell no

"minho shut it,"

and minho (and their other friends) teased jisung about it as well because bruh he is whipped for you even before the day you made up

he was cool about the teasing and all, actually he won't stop shoving to his friends' faces that you two are friends already and well they had enough of that sheit m8

but the thing that he didn't like at all is that they would literally push him towards you if you are around or near them

"bLoOdY heLL gUYs sTaPh" and they wont stop lol as if

"han jisung man up, i thought you are brave, not some wimpy chicken; what a disgrace to the gryffindor,"

"shUt iT sEuNgmiN aLsO yoU'rE a rAveNcLaw wDym??"

yeah jisung has a teeny tiny phat ass crush on you, ok??

so he was really determined to be, at least, your friend and he was really sad that you hated him

honestly he did those pranks to you because he thought that that would get your attention and would probably make you smack him (w̶h̶a̶t̶ a̶ m̶a̶s̶o̶c̶h̶i̶s̶t̶)

and he didn't expect you to avoid him and throw death glares everytime you cross paths, which made him very sorrowful

any who, he was ok now since you two are good yeah and that's what matter to him — at least you don't hate him now!!

ok so for you it felt really weird when jisung's friends would try to push him to you — of course you ain't oblivious, you knew something is up and suspected jisung that he has a crush on you??? but you don't know or were sure about that lolol

maybe it was just because you don't hate him anymore, yeah maybe. but it's just weird that they'll only tease him about you when there are other whom they could tease him with?? uh you don't know really

so you decided to confront minho cause he's like the president of y/nsung fan club

"ok minho you snake, spill, why do you guys always push jisung towards me??"

"excuse moi, you're also a snake and a magician never tells its secrets" he shot a wink at you

you weren't fazed by his answer a bit and smacked his head which made him wince "you dumbass, you're a wizard, minho"

"i'M a WaHt?? :o??" another smack oof —

probably not a good idea since he won't really tell you, wow you could really trust him your secrets

so now, you are currently sitting at the garden practicing your transfiguration spells, preferably alone because your friends are doing some shit (probably supporting your team, they're practicing for the quidditch since it was fast aproaching) or in their own classes; you didnt mind anyways

and han jisung was there, walking around plotting some good ol' prank to do since he is bored then saw you there

he scanned the area, trying to find his friends in sight. he is going to approach you, but he is too embarrassed if one of his friend sees it cause maybe they'll tease him and that would lower his charms

he sighed in relief seeing some students he didn't knew and then marched towards you

as he went to you, he whispered things to himself like "uh what should i say— should i say hi or should i say that she is pretty or—"

"oh jisung hi"

he leaped, a little bit of startled

"o-oh hi y/n" that came out like a squeak and you cant help but giggle because that's just cute??? and he can't help but blush because your giggle is cute too???

he sat besides you, examining the apple resting ontop of your transfiguration book, "what'cha doin?" he asked

"oh, just practicing some spells" you say, focusing back to whatever shit you're doing

"oooh i see"

so basically jisung just sat besides you as you kept on practicing very well, and the atmosphere were really really awkward kka kka kka

then minho walked on the corridors, then spotted the both of you

he had this look on his face ready to tease the bloody hell outta jisung but he saw the cute squirrel scratching his head and opening his mouth as if he was about to say something, a multiple times

he didn't continue his plan, he doesn't want to cockblock incase jisung's gryffindor ass would give him courage wink wonk

"uh— y/n—"

"yes! finally i did it! i'm sorry you were saying jisung?"

he froze in his spot, his mouth unable to mutter out any words because?? this boy?? is nervous?? kagaisvdj

anyways, he gulped the large lump on his throat, sighing 'it's now or never jisung!!'

"uh i j-just want to say tha—"

"y/N THERE YOU ARE C'MON I GOTTA SHOW YOU SOMETHING"

jisung almost flipped the fuck out of him for your bff/n has cockblocked him and dragged you off to somewhere

"sorry jisung, maybe next tiimmmeeeee—"

he had this big ass pouty face as he watched your figure disappearing :< like he's really disappointed

"aww little sungie's y/n has been stolen from him, ouch" minho dramatically said, hands in his heart for more effects as he plopped down besides the boy who got startled as his friend's sudden apearance

"khkwtjwykjdnzkbe i was tHIS NEAR MINHO, THIS NEAR BUT FOR NEVILLE'S SAKE BBF/N JUST HAD TO—"

"is there anything that concerns you mr. han?"

how do we even say khkwtjwykjdnzkbe irl??

"oH— ABSOLUTELY NONE PROFESSOR LONGBOTTOM!"

then night time came, and you are in your dormitory, basically throwing your shit everywhere because you just lost your wand

"bloody hell where is that damned wand!" you hissed, throwing your hoodie on your bed aggressively

"y/n, maybe you left it in the great hall? i heard f1/n saw an abandoned one on the table," your roommate, f2/n, said as she entered your dorms

(i'm too lazy to name them what even)

"thanks!" you nodded at her before scurrying out to the slytherin common room

"where do ya think you're going, y/n?" your house prefect asked and blocked you from going to the entrance

“doyoung, i forgot my wand please please let me just get it!" you pleaded

the boy sighed, "just be careful not to get caught by the teachers, it's almost curfew,"

"thanks doyoung!!"

so you ran out of the slytherin common room but you didn't expect only having some faint light which only supported your eyes to see anything on the hallways, which creeped you

you walked slowly, as you came to the part of the hallways where it's very very dark where you cannot see a single thing

"lumos!" you say instinctively beacuse you thought you have your wand in your hands but nope??

“oh right, how stupid of me,"

you began to be scared cause what if you just bump into one of the teachers?? and they would give you detention?? out into the dark forest??

you gulped, shrugging those nasty thoughts, you really need to find your wand, you can't have that missing or else you'll fail your transfiguration test which you had been mastering for a while now

i mean just walking slowly towards the great hall is pretty easy right? without anything at your sight? and with a high chances of encountering a teacher? right?

"oh sh—"

"ow!"

suddenly you bumped onto something, rather someone

you were dropped on the floor, butt aching from the impact from the fall

your heart then stopped, mind began to cloud your thoughts once again from the probability that you have bumped to a teacher

you were about to stand up and run but it beats you when the person's lumos lightened on their wand

"y/n?"

"j-jisung?" thank dumbledore

"what are you doing here?" you both asked in sync and jisung laughed at this

he stood up, dusting his cute squirrel patterned pjs as he offered a hand to you

you accepted it, your stomach churned slightly from the contact

not to mention jisung literally screamed internally because!! that was his first hold-hands with you!! although it wasn't really a holding hands or whatnot

"why are you here, y/n? isn't it past curfews?" jisung asked again in a whisper tone, his voice soft

"i lost my wand in the great hall, how about you?" you chuckled in embarrassment, light pink tinted your rosy cheek which made the boy uwu because he really finds you cute in any ways

"i usually sleepwalk,,, hehe and let me help you find it" he inquired, with a shy smile

your eyes glistened with hope, probably relived that you aren't going to roam around the hallways alone, light-less

"really?! tha—"

the both of you heard faint footstep noises which made jisung's lumos disappear and he grabbed you to the nearest room to hide

thoughts haunted you once again. what if you get caught?? what if that is a teacher??

you were just lucky that you encountered jisung, not some barbaric teacher that would definitely give you detention no questions asked

your heart raced loudly as if it was about to burst out of your ribcage, and you felt the same thing at you back, which is probably from jisung's

you are basically trapped at jisung's grip, his hands on your mouth preventing your heavy pants from being heard and the other was securely holding on your waist and jisung was leaning against the door

you could literally feel his breath hitch your neck for you two are so close

this adds up the abnormal beating of your heart, which is not good

you could be lying if you didn't find the gryffindor boy to be attractive, hell he was hella(v̶a̶t̶o̶r̶) damn fine

well you could, you would've liked him — if he wasn't just an ass that decided to mess up with you

but now he apologized and you are cool about it now

to be honest, spending time with him during the writing of your essay made you uh let's see, want his company more?

like even though he's annoying as hell for not really focusing at times, he could made you crack a smile on your lips when you are hella stressed on what paragraph to write next or basically stressing out for o.w.ls

and that's pretty great cause you're not that kind of person who is easily pleased

plus the numerous times he flustered you — not to mention he offered you a lot of chocolate frogs (which is your absolute favorite) when he figured you messed up your potions class based on your burnt eyebrows

now, that you kind of took the hint that he likes you based from his friends' weird antics, you still didn't believe it though, you just don't want your hopes up high

cause for you bruh your pride is more important than looking like an idiot from believing he liked you

which is true because who are you to not to like? ;(( ok?? shut up

also, it was not very ok for jisung's heart that you were this close at him,, like seriously?? he would've just straight out hugged you in place but he was afraid that you would hate him again and you are not friends anymore which is more painful than you not liking him back

"i-i think it's gone?" he whispered softly into your ear, removing his hand from your mouth "sorry,"

you nodded, blush creeping onto your cheeks, kind of missing his warm touch "i-it's okay,"

so the both of you just stood there in awkward silence kka kka kka

but jisung broke it by deciding to check if the area is clear, so he opened the door, making a light creaking noises

"lumos" he casted, light illuminating the tip of his wand

he sighed in relief, seeing nothing peculiar then he turned to you mouthing a "let's go"

you followed him eagerly, feets tiptoed in a rhythmic way and before you knew it you are now outside the great hall

you were about to open the door yet noticed it was locked, then you borrowed his wand since he didn't knew the spell how to unlock doors and it's a good thing you knew cause bruh this ain't the first time you sneaking out of the dorms past curfew so unlocking doors are quite handy

"whoa your wand is quite similar to mines," you say in amusement as you handled his wand back

"maybe it's because we're soulmates"

did he just flirted with you?? again??

"b-bullshit, mr. han" oops you stuttered

"HAHAHAHA just kidding, anyways where did you left it"

you shrugged, making your way towards the slytherin table and to the spot where you ate at dinner "just here?" you point

he nodded, crouching down to check the floor beneath the table in hopes that the wand fell off

through out the searching, you both we're just silent, probably immersed from finding your wand — not to mention jisung was really determined to find it aww

it didn't took you 5 minutes before you found it and you nearly cried when jisung handled it to you

"kagsisgshgs thank you so much jisung isvjisvjd i don't know what to do if it wasn't for you!!" and oof you hugged him — scratch that, you squeezed him really tight like he wasn't able to breathe anymore but he didn't care cause it was you?? who hugged him?? it was totally not fine for his heart

"i- i cah-an' br eat Hh eez"

"oops sorry hehe,"

"soooo.."

"let's just head back to our dorms before someone catches us," you suggested, grabbing his arm and made your way out of the great hall

he halted abruptly, which made you stop your tracks as well for you are holding his wrist - which didnt made him fluster, totally not!!

you raised a brow at him, even though he could not see it from the dark and only your lumos illuminating the huge hall

"uhm y/n, uh before we go back i just want to say that..." he trailed off as his eyes wondered elsewhere besides your soft gaze at him, not sure if he should continue his words

you chuckled, "we don't have all night, sung, what is it?"

so he took a mount of air and breathed in "UHIREALLYLIKEYOUY/NI'MTOTALYNOTBLUSHINGRIGHTNOWOHMYGOSHWHATAMISAYIN—"

you shushed him by cupping his face, placing your thumbs on his rambling soft lips and pecked the back of your thumbs swiftly — which made him redder than your mom's lipsticks

how bold of you y/n and your slytherin ass, how bold of you

you giggled at his reaction, eyes wider than a saucer and cheeks resembled freshly grown red tomatoes

this was so uncalled for, poor heart of jisung's

"this is real right? am i dreaming? tell me i'm not — oh merlin's beard please slap me,"

you rolled your eyes, "oh c'mon you uncultured piece of acorn, get your ass back to the gryffindor comon rooms already or else i'll obliviate you,"

so the next day rolled on, you were just casually making your way to potions class yeah casually then he came and bitch he did not

"heya babe" he slung his arm on your shoulders and pecked your cheek which is now currently tainted in beet red

not to mention everyone in the hallways saw it, like everyone has this wtf someone pls explain ??? look on their faces

and you could totally see minho's eyes wriggled teasingly at you

"what the fuck jisung" you pried him off of you, and he giggled at thiss

"that's for interrupting my confession,"

then he pecked your lips like really quick "and this is for not really kissing me, like seriously y/n why your thumbs— uh oh"

and he ran for his life

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usnewsaggregator-blog · 7 years ago

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Finding Your Creative Voice Again After Combat

New Post has been published on https://usnewsaggregator.com/finding-your-creative-voice-again-after-combat/

Finding Your Creative Voice Again After Combat

When I came home from my first deployment to Iraq, readjusting was literally impossible for me. I was a 33-year-old Army combat officer and I could no longer feel or see beauty in anything. And while I didn’t know how to leave the destructive path I was on, I also couldn’t stand to crush the hearts of my wife and children anymore. So, I temporarily moved out of my home and slept on various couches, more concerned with drinking than eating. When I would sit down to write, like I had done my entire life before deploying, I’d come up with nothing but blank pages. I had lost a lot of myself on the battlefield, it turned out. Large, significant pieces of who I was had been killed off somewhere in the desert, missing in action, never to come home.

On my second tour, two and a half years later, I tried my best to prepare the first-timers for the realities of war. My soldiers would ask me what I did before the Army, and I would laugh and tell them I used to be an artist. Those words sounded so foreign to me, too, so profoundly silly coming out of my mouth. An artist. My muse, I believed, had been gone for some time at that point. All I really felt like writing was my obituary, but even that proved too difficult an exercise. I was exactly what I needed to be for the Army, though. My job was running a unit in a combat zone, not explaining the world for the sake of art.

Five years earlier, the idea that I could ever run out of inspiration would have been unthinkable. Just before the terror attacks of 9/11, I was an advertising executive in my late 20s living in Texas, where I was born and raised. I had stumbled into my career while an undergraduate English student writing freelance copy for a boutique marketing agency. A couple of the firm’s senior concept and design chiefs, two artists in their early 50s named Brant and Brian, were dear friends who spent a lot of time helping me develop my interests in poetry, painting, and music when I first entered the industry. I had always been creative and, as my mother would say, was on an endless journey to discover new ways to articulate my feelings. While Brant and Brian were spared the period of me loudly expressing my disillusionment with a fledgling punk rock band in my parents’ garage, they were still enthusiastic about my potential in not only the fine arts, but in advertising design as well.

How Serving in World War II Spurred My Academic Ambition

By my junior year in college, I was given a small but full-time salary sketching storyboards, designing layouts, and writing jingles. It was a glorious time, in no small part because I had found a way to pay a few bills with my talents—whereas before I mostly gave my paintings away to friends and family who could appreciate my abstract depictions of everyday items like ladder-back chairs or half-smoked cigarettes in dark oils and acrylic. Now, I had an office with a drafting table, a light box, and a window; I participated in that age-old workplace rite of learning to appreciate scotch and cigars. Before long my wife was driving a Mercedes wagon and I had been fitted for a decent suit or two.

Because I continued to write short stories, poetry, and the occasional guitar ballad, I didn’t feel like I had sold my artistic soul for the nine-to-five. I actually felt lucky to work with such talented colleagues. They were in some ways also my teachers; middle-aged women and men who had gads of experience to share, like real-life former Don Drapers and Peggy Olsons. Many of them had served during Vietnam as young officers, often fresh out of art or business school. They’d share with me fantastic stories of life abroad, and, sometimes, following a drink too many, of war itself. But their accounts of the battlefield were little more than compartmentalized ugliness on the back shelves of their memory. Something that happened decades ago, and a world away, in another lifetime.

* * *

A few years later—after a couple of job changes, and just when I thought I was ready to step away from the agency world and commit to a serious writing career—the unconceivable took place. On a Tuesday morning in September of 2001, I stood in a corporate conference room watching the horror unfold on the news: crashing planes and fire and falling debris. That’s also when I knew I would soon be in uniform.

I wasn’t itching for an excuse to dump everything I had been working on and head off to the sound of the cannons. The calling was deeper than that, fueled in no small part by the romantic notions of a lifelong dreamer. I could see myself serving my country as great icons like Jack Kennedy or Jim Wright had done before me. Young men who put their lives on hold to do their part, later emerging as heroes who’d go on to say that war had helped shape them into the leaders they were. And maybe part of me hoped I would return from combat with the wisdom of these giants, and write of my own experience on the field of battle just as Ernest Hemingway, E. E. Cummings, and J.R.R. Tolkien had.

There were, of course, more practical reasons to join. While a military career was never expected of me, someone in every generation on both sides of my family (including my mother and kid sister) had served in either the Army or Navy, going back to the Civil War. And if I had ever felt guilty for not doing my part, 9/11 made me feel downright condemnable. So with my wife’s cautious blessing, a day after the terror attacks, I began the recruitment process. Less than a year later, in August of 2002, I raised my right hand and took the Oath of Enlistment.

Hollywood had warned me through the years that my initial training was going to suck, but no matter how many times you watch An Officer and a Gentleman, you can never fully prepare for what will happen when you step off the bus for Basic Combat Training. After two years of intense instruction, the second lieutenant staring back at me in the mirror looked nothing like the once out-of-shape artist I used to be. My wife and three children could see a different kind of transformation, too, one that seemed to foreshadow the trouble to come. Already I was reckless and brooding, my drinking had reached troubling levels, and I was more prone to respond violently to any affront, however small. The perfect time, as it were, to deploy to the cradle of civilization.

It’s not the heat, the long missions, or the terrible food that dominate the memories of my time in combat. Rather, my mind takes me to the feeling of always waiting for something bad to happen: to be driving along a main supply route, resting in your tent, or visiting with locals—and waiting for a rocket or sniper to kill you. Like the Sword of Damocles, but with no great fortune or power to offset the pending doom. And as much as I can tell myself we were all only doing our job, my most haunting thoughts are about the innocents caught in the crossfire. So, when people ask me what it was like, I usually take them down a friendlier road, one of sandstorms, biblical landmarks, and the cornucopia of free energy drinks and cheap pirated DVDs. I tell them about the unbreakable bonds that wartime brothers and sisters in uniform will always share, but I don’t bring up what it is like to lose them.

* * *

I left the Army after 12 years, following my third Iraq deployment, and tried to get back into my old routine. I wasn’t the same angry, self-destructive person who came home after the first combat tour, but there were little reminders here and there—the nightmares, an aversion to fireworks and war movies—that I would never be normal again. My family stuck around long enough for me to get my act together, and I was more grateful than they will ever know. Within a few days, I took over as the head of marketing for a regional telecom company, but I had lost my ability to think creatively, to devise catchy phrases and effective copy. So much had changed since my career had been interrupted. I struggled to get out of bed on most mornings and found no meaning in the hackneyed Monday-to-Friday ritual. With my artistic soul seemingly gone, I began to wonder again what I was doing and why.

Eventually, something simple but profound happened: I started to slowly accept that I was just going to be different. A new future was stretching out ahead of me. I began to spend more time enjoying golf, cigars, and espresso. I took up spice gardening and made pho a weekly dining event. I set aside the whiskey and learned to make exotic cocktails. My wife and I made James Bond movies part of our Sunday afternoons. I turned 44 years old and arrived at the intersection of banality and stereotype.

And then it was safe; the coast was finally clear in my subconscious. I was a civilian and once this new normal set in, and the uncertainty and ambiguity of life as a deploying soldier disappeared, my muse returned. I sat down one afternoon three weeks ago and wrote a short story about a Vietnam War vet turned Hollywood actor in his 70s who is staring down his own mortality. It was good—really good. And it has since been, once again, a glorious time. I have my voice back, and it no longer feels awkward to tell people that I’m an artist.

I’ve always thought there are two primary forces, angst and eros, that drive humans to create. It’s perhaps no surprise that the artists I admired most were Jackson Pollock, John Cheever, and Morrissey—sad souls with a darkness that I could relate to starting in my anxious teenage years and continuing well into my 30s, and whom I tried my best to emulate. While it took a major attack to get me to become a soldier, part of me once saw war as a chance to truly understand tragedy; to internalize and then capture sorrow on the written page or on the canvas or in a song. But seeing such ugliness firsthand planted the seed of a revelation that wouldn’t arrive until years later: I need enough brightness and security, not suffering, to make art. I now possess certain omniscience: the ability to see the gloom and record it, while no longer being consumed by it.

Most of my military past—the certificates, the medals, the regalia—has been boxed away, but it hits me on occasion that I was once a soldier. Like while I am sitting at a red light. Then the light turns green, and my thoughts begin to focus on whatever is next in my quiet world. And what I should write about.

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