#look it's been a thing I do that I celebrate the start of Ber Months on this here time September 1

[cindyneilly-arts]

🎶~Weeeneeeber I see girls and boys sellin lanternsss on da streeetsssss~🎶

Take a hint what Neilya's favorite holiday is/j

Ok joke I didn't just wanna post this here have the semigirl and her partially seen Christmas Sweater and parol earrings

[ouiouimochi]

hi I noticed that u were pipino hehe... since it's her months already, can I req how the characters react to f!reader basically celebrating Christmas literally MONTHS early

thankyou for requesting anon! I'm guessing you meant ber months? funny thing is I've gotten started on writing something for that prompt already but you requesting it also urged me to finish lmao… it's kind of rushed? but I do hope you enjoy it!

Never too early to celebrate the holidays!

context: so here in the Philippines, we actually start preparing for Christmas(heck even celebrating it) in September or the start of the ber months. now imagine how the defense force reacts to you practicing this

pairing/s: various kn8 x reader

genre/s: scenario type, slice of life, romance if you squint well, comedy, crack

wc: 2k

warnings: some characters may be ooc, not exactly canon compliant, grammatical errors, no beta we die like cattle, character studies just went out the window in this crackfic, careful for whiplash sweeties! huge mood changes

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

It was an unusually relaxed day in the Defense Force, free from the hectic stress of kaiju threats and the like. The day was spent training as usual, but everyone can tell that the atmosphere wasn't heavy with the burden of protecting Japan. They just knew, despite their doubts, that it wasn't the calm before a storm— the worry that their respite would soon be ruined by the stupid beasts that had been haunting them since time immemorial.

There was a distinct chill in the air, signaling the start of the crisp season of autumn. The officers of the Defense Force were already used to the drop in temperature, however some were not completely immune.

You were currently surrounded by your fellow recruits, talking about the sudden cold.

“It feels quite colder than last year,” Kikoru mentions, a small shiver running down her body. She rubs her hands together to gain warmth.

“Yeah, it wasn't this bad then.” Haruichi agreed while burying his hands deep into his parka jacket.

The group continued walking through the streets of the city, their batch having been approved for a day off after training.

“Reno, how in the damned hell are you unaffected?” reno my ice ice baby girl- Iharu hounded the mint haired male as he picked at the other male’s choice of outdoor clothes, the latter responding with a raise of an eyebrow and a shrug.

“We should get warm drinks,” you piped up as everyone expressed their agreement at your suggestion.

“I know just the place.” Haruichi pulled out his phone to show the group a cafe located not too far away. Before long, everyone arrived at the establishment with the ring of the bell above the door.

“Hot chocolate would be perfect,” Kafka sighed out, everyone else thinking of what warm drink to get as their eyes scoured through the menu.

“I'll probably have my usual coffee.”

“Maybe matcha tea?”

“Hot milk tea for me.”

“Macchiato.”

“There's no eggnog?” imsosorryidkwhatchristmasdrinktoputlmao a hum followed as the whole group stared at you with varying emotions.

You had a finger to your lip in thought while scanning the menu. You had your eyebrows slightly scrunched in concentration, debating what to get. A few gazes lingered on your face for a bit too long.

Noticing the silence, you looked at your friends and tilted your head. Realization creeps on your face and you cover your mouth with one palm, bowing apologetically.

“My bad, I didn't mean for everyone to wait for my order… I'll get the same as Reno then,” you sheepishly said.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Hold on, I think I have to go get my package.”

“Again? That's like the 6th one this month, (Y/n).” Kikoru stopped walking before turning to you to raise an eyebrow while resting her hands on her waist.

You shrugged your shoulders, seeing no problem in buying stuff with your own money coughcoughnarumicanneverjkcough.

“What's wrong with it? It's not like I'm broke from buying stuff from Yamazon, no? Unlike…” you trailed off, letting your blonde friend finish for you.

She sighs in response, dropping her arms to her sides as you two resume walking.

“As much as I want to say a comeback, you're right about my moronic teacher… I swear, he always asks me for money.”

“Oh, Kikoru…” you pat her back, laughing lightheartedly, “but I do gotta wonder how he does that when his paycheck is more loaded than mine…”

Your younger friend shook her head, already done with the conversation. She waved you goodbye when you two had to separate ways.

You hummed on your way to the office where one receives any delivered goods from outside the base. You waved and smiled at the nice lady at the desk you managed to get acquainted with from your recent visits.

She pulled up a few boxes from under her desk, creating quite the stack. The lady sweat dropped when her eyes trailed from the piled parcels to you— realizing that it'd be quite troublesome for you to carry alone.

Meeting her gaze and knowing what she was thinking, you shook your head and pulled a thumbs up.

“Don't worry, I can handle this. I just have to sign here as usual right?”

She only nodded, still a little worried as you started stacking each box carefully in your arms. Her concern only raised when your head was barely peeking out from the topmost package.

“Thank you again!” and you somehow safely maneuvered yourself out the doorway without hitting anything.

You were doing pretty well despite having most of your eyesight blocked, having to rely on your other senses. You gotta be thankful that all that training paid off, but perhaps you may have overestimated your capabilities.

Although, you could've sworn nobody was in the vicinity as you felt no other presence— heard no other footsteps, rustling of clothes, or even breathing—, you still failed to react fast enough when you collided with someone at the next turn.

Your eyes widened in surprise while some of your packages flew upwards. Everything was in slow motion but you felt a faint warmth wrap around your back and waist to catch you from falling.

You focused more on the packages that were about to fall— afraid that some of the items would break— and caught them… except for one that soared a bit too far from your reach.

Thankfully, the person who you collided with managed to grab ahold of the last box. You closed your eyes and sighed in relief.

A deep playful chuckle reverberated in the air. Your eyes opened to be met with the cheeky grin of Vice Captain Hoshina. implayingfavoritesperhaps

You blinked at him before standing up straight and off his arm.

“Vice Captain Hoshina, sir! I apologize for the disrespect, but I am unable to currently salute you, sir…”

The man only laughs and waves it off with a friendly smile, a hint of one of his canines poking out.

“At ease,” he scanned you from head to toe, “quite a hazard to walk around with ‘ya vision blocked, no?” still in his hand was the package he caught for you.

“I was holding up quite well due to your training…” you stared up at him before narrowing your eyes jokingly, “But your movements had no sound at all, not even a rustle of your clothes.”

He hummed before taking half the pile of boxes in your arms.

“Where to?”

You tilted your head curiously at his gesture. Alhough it was not unusual for the vice captain to be kind, he usually didn’t show it in such a straightforward way. Nonetheless, you appreciated how he still left some for you to carry on your own.

You smiled and answered him, both of you falling in step towards your destination.

“So what're these for? Noticed you've had deliveries the past month as well.” The purple haired man queried.

You had a slight skip in your step, quite excited to open up the packages that you received. In response to his inquiry, you smiled up at him with a glint in your eyes, “Just some early gift buying for the holidays, sir.” before turning your head away to hum a tune in your head.

‘Christmas shopping in September?’

Hoshina’s eyes remain trained on your form, processing what you just said, before he shook his head and just let you be. Everyone else had learned to not to question you much no matter how… eccentric you were at times. Your eccentricity was one of your charms anyways.

“Careful with what you buy, don't want ‘ya ending up like a certain captain of the First Division…” He advised, finding the opportunity to poke fun at said person despite their current absence.

You rolled your eyes, finding it funny that this is the nth time today Captain Narumi was slandered. “I'm more responsible with my money than you all think, sir.”

Far away in the Ariake Maritime Base of the JAKDF, a certain two-toned haired male let out a sneeze while he was busy playing on his gaming console.

Hasegawa shook his head, “that's what gaming all night gets you,” the older man chided his captain as the said person only covered his ears, unwilling to listen to another lecture.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

Another yoju drops dead on the concrete ground, everyone’s comms crackling to life.

“Immeasurable amount of yoju bounding to Zone Beta, honju’s whereabouts are unknown,” the familiar voice of Operations Manager Okonogi made itself through the earpiece.

“There's just no end to this!” an officer grumbled as everyone else started bounding to the designated zone.

“Kaiju horde spotted, permission to engage?” You announced into your device while readying your gun, being the first in position. The horde had an average of only 3.6 fortitude level— however, their numbers were what made them problematic. The operations room gave you the signal, indicating that it was something you could handle with your capabilities despite only being a recruit.

You wasted not another moment, immediately pulling the trigger of your pre-aimed gun. A yoju drops as its fellow species trampled over its fallen corpse.

The ground was rumbling with the beasts’ stampede through the open road. Yet again, another shot, another corpse. They were still far from your position, so you continued to efficiently gun down kaiju after kaiju.

You get into a steady beat, unconsciously following a certain rhythm from the back of your mind. You remain locked in, completely washing out most of your surroundings— well of course you are still aware of what's going on around you, just more hyperaware than ever.

“First Division backup has arrived at Zone Beta”

You continued firing away, by now the horde was noticeably dwindling away already. A pair of red glaring lenses watched on, having the pleasure of watching your work first hand as the owner was fastest to arrive.

Captain Narumi only wanted to quickly clear the largest wave of kaiju emergence of the year by far— cursing already how his division had to do a joint operation with the Third. Color him impressed as he just observed how you could clear the horde pretty much on your own. He was mesmerized by the timing and pattern of which you fired your gun—

He narrows his eyes when he realizes something, noticing that it was like you were casually playing a rhythm game with the monsters. Well, that wasn't exactly what made him pause…

‘She isn't shooting them down in the beat of a Christmas song, is she?'

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Do any of you think that maybe—just maybee—(Y/n) is actually insane?” Iharu randomly blurted out as the usual group of recruits gathered around. You weren't present at the moment since you were called to the captain's office for something.

“You’re the madman here for being brave enough to even question it.” Kikoru stated matter-of-factly.

“We're literally surrounded by unique people, why are you only pointing fingers at her?” Reno raised an eyebrow, ready to defend you anytime.

“I mean… it's only September… and she's already making holiday preparations!” The pink-haired male tried to explain.

“...He does make quite the point.” Kafka nodded along.

“Eh, how are you all sure she's been doing so?” Reno challenged.

The eldest of the group mentioned what he noticed, “Hasn’t (Y/n) been craving and looking for Christmas season food—”

“You've no right to judge a woman's sudden urge to eat something.” Hakua interjected, the tall female always so passionate when it comes to cuisine.

“Come to think of it… Her part of the room’s been unusually cramped with some packages...” Akari’s mellow voice echoed out.

“It's not really our business to pry into how she uses her paychecks though…”

and so the group bickered back and forth— one half providing ‘evidence’ of your weird behavior, the second half making up possible reasons behind them.

“She’s been humming ‘All I want for Christmas is You‘ by Mariah Carey the past 2 weeks for fuck's sake!”

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

notes: CRYING SCREAMING HOW DO I WRITE HOSHINA TALKING I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE HIM HHHHHHH (too lazy to edit his parts, this has been in the drafts since the start of september… kinda wanna get it over and done with-)

this was hella rushed, isn't it obvious I made different parts at different days? its a mess just like me :P

[unknownmaly]

A Christmas to Remember

Christmas has always been a time that fills me with warmth and joy, a season that just feels like magic. Growing up in the Philippines, Christmas starts way before December. As soon as September arrives, you can already feel the excitement creeping in. The "Ber" months are something special here; it's like the whole country decides to start counting down to Christmas together. That’s when my family begins decorating, piece by piece, transforming our home into a little Christmas wonderland. Putting up the Christmas tree is one of the first steps, and each ornament holds its own memories from past holidays. But the highlight is the “Parol,” a beautiful, star-shaped lantern that’s always glowing outside our door. It’s like our own family beacon, bringing light to the neighborhood and letting everyone know that Christmas is on its way.

One of my absolute favorite Christmas traditions has always been caroling with my cousins. We’d start practicing our songs weeks before December, just waiting for the first chance to go out and sing. I’ll never forget the excitement whenever someone would shout, “Mamasko ta ta!”—the signal that it was time to grab our own made instruments and hit the streets. We made "bells" out of flattened bottle caps tied on a wire, just noisy enough to add a bit of rhythm to our songs. We’d go from house to house, singing with all the excitement in our hearts, hoping for a little reward at each stop. For us, it wasn’t only about the coins we’d earn, though the "extra baon" (extra allowance) was always nice. It was the thrill of feeling like we had worked for something on our own that made those nights special.

There were even times we were so eager that we started caroling as early as Halloween! I remember one year we decided to do it right around Kalag-kalag (All Souls’ Day), which is really meant for honoring departed loved ones. We were too young to think about it much; all we knew was that Christmas was coming, and we were just excited to start singing and earn our little "baon." To this day, it still makes me laugh running around with Santa hats and makeshift instruments in November, just too eager to wait.

But when December finally arrived, that’s when the true magic began. Caroling became more than just a kids’ thing; it turned into a family affair. My entire family would join in, from my lola and titas to cousins of all ages. We’d go out in groups, harmonizing and singing our hearts out as a family. We had our route down to an art, starting from one end of our neighborhood and visiting homes. Our relatives were always our biggest supporters, slipping us a few extra coins with a smile. Some nights, we wouldn’t finish until nearly 10 p.m., our voices tired but our hearts full. At the end of the night, we’d gather together to divide the earnings fairly, then go to bed with the happiest kind of tiredness, well a Christmas tiredness.

When Christmas Eve came, it was a different kind of celebration. This time, everyone gathered at home, filling it with laughter and the smell of Christmas food. I loved those nights, the way we’d all be together, eating, talking, and sharing stories. It felt like the whole world paused just for us, for our family. As midnight approached, we’d count down the seconds, waiting to wish each other a Merry Christmas right at 12 a.m. Those midnight moments were some of the most special, filled with hugs, laughter, and a feeling of pure joy that’s hard to describe.

And as the holiday continued, so did our family traditions. New Year’s Eve was like the grand finale, a time when we’d combine the joy of Christmas with the excitement of the New Year. The entire family would gather one more time, playing games, exchanging gifts, and celebrating with so much laughter that it felt like even the walls of our home were joining in. It was a time when everything felt right, like the world was wrapped up in this perfect bubble of love and happiness.

Now, looking back on those years, I realize how much those traditions shaped me. Christmas is more than just decorations or presents. It’s about love, gratitude, and togetherness. Christmas reminds me to be thankful, to cherish the people around me, and to remember the deeper meaning of the season—the birth of Jesus Christ, a time to honor hope and peace.

As I get older, the way I see Christmas might change, but the spirit remains the same. The excitement of being a kid and singing Christmas songs at every door may have faded, but I’ve come to appreciate the deeper side of Christmas. It’s a time to reconnect, to give back, and to remember what truly matters.

This Christmas, I’ll celebrate with all these memories close to my heart, knowing that the true magic of Christmas isn’t something that fades with age. It’s a feeling, a reminder of love, family, and the joy of being together. No matter where life takes me, I know that Christmas will always bring me back to these moments, reminding me of the warmth, the laughter, and the light that will always be a part of who I am.

[adamfoolcry]

of coffees and holidays (d.sc)

pairings: Ballerina!Sicheng x CafeOwner!FemReader

rating: 13+

warnings: swearing

genre: angst and fluff

synopsis: Your and Sicheng's love story in five coffees with varying degrees of sweetness spanning five Christmases.

word count: 3k+

a/n: for @127-mile, I hope I did justice for your prompt. Hope you enjoy reading it. Happy Holidays! 🎅 Thank you to @neoculturechristmas for organizing such fun event. It can be read in chronological order if y'all wanted to. I promise it's a happy ending. Not proofread so please excuse the mistakes, I am so dumb. Please reach out to me if you would like to do so. - xo aria

Christmas 2019 - Espresso

Outside as flakes of snow fell from the sky, like a light shower of glitter from the heavens, the elusive holiday spirit seemingly present in the air; you watched a young couple huddled together to share warmth, fingers intertwined, cheeks glowing red partnered with coy smiles on their faces, and a family of three in admiration of their son as he showed off his Christmas gift. The streetlights emitting an orange glow providing an aura of softness, making everything come together to form a picturesque scene.

Heartwarming as these scenes were, they failed to evoke any emotion out of you; if anything you feel excluded from it entirely. To you the world behind the cafe's glass windows is just a film you're screening in the cinemas, and you were nothing but a mere spectator. You continue to stare listlessly at the throngs of people passing by until they all mesh into a blur of colors your eyes couldn't catch fast enough. That's better.

Inside the cafe although decorated with trinkets for the holidays there was an air of sadness permeating every corner and seated itself onto the furnishings. Lately it seems like sadness is following you around everywhere - like a shadow - and instead of trailing behind you it looms over you shrouding your every thought until it completely consumes you.

No one stepped foot inside the cafe and with no one to entertain your mind drifts to him. Sicheng.

How many days has it been? Since you last saw him. You've lost count, a lie you tell yourself to make the dull ache in your chest bearable. 

It's a torture how you could recall that day - the day you lost him - so vividly as if you are forced to relive it every time the silence eats away at your resolve; to tuck the moment into the deep recesses of your mind, where it can't hurt you. When every little thing reminds you of him, his favorite spot at the cafe, black turtlenecks and that undeleted grainy picture of his sitting in your gallery. 

You could never forget the look on his face, resignation etched into every crevice of his features, a forlorn smile on his lips. 

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

The slam of the door is the nail that hits the coffin. Sicheng is gone. He has already walked out of your life. That was the last you saw of him for he never visited the cafe again.

A month passed by when Sicheng called you. Your heart leaped as his name flashed on your screen and your thumb shakily pressed the answer button; afterwards lifting it near your ear.

There was no greeting as he uttered in his low voice that you have missed so much, "My flight to Russia is this Saturday." 

Your heart sank.

"I want you to see me off, ______." 

Don't go please stay with me but there are certain thoughts that weren't meant to be put into words so instead, "I'll be there." You reassured him.

But you never showed up at the airport that Saturday. Instead, you were at the cafe staring at the screen of your phone blinking on and off as a wave of notifications with his name flooded your phone. Why make things harder? As if him leaving wasn't hard enough. You pressed the power button long enough to shut down your phone.

The following days passed away into months that's a haze in your mind. You can't recall anything worth remembering. You quickly filled up your schedule with mundane tasks just to have something to do filling every gap of your vacant time. 

At night you fell straight to bed, your body collapsing from the physical strain you have subjected it with. Establishing a packed routine without idle time so you don't have time to linger on the dull ache in your chest - always there like a festering wound. This works until you find your list of chores unexpectedly accomplished earlier than you planned, the cafe shrouded in still quietness. 

Alone with nothing else to do the dull ache amplified to a crippling one and it bites you right back in your face, forcing you to acknowledge the hollow feeling that seems to reside in your chest permanently. Your eyes would be heavier, your vision blurry, trying to blink away the tears but ultimately failing as it trails down your cheeks; you clutch at your chest because it hurts and you regret that the last you'll see of Sicheng is that face of hurt he wore.

Christmas 2016 - Vanilla Latte

You placed the cup of vanilla latte sitting on a saucer on the table daintily, pushing the saucer across the wooden table towards the customer, avoiding to make any noise. The customer seemed so engrossed with the novel he is reading - nose almost touching the pages - that you don't want to disturb him. 

The said customer is a regular, there was not a month that he hasn't visited the cafe. Showing up five minutes after you flip the signage to open, with no fail not even a minute late. 

Wearing all black from head to toe, a tall lithe figure, and an androgynous facial structure, your guess is that he works as a model. Even now without trying he is captivating; he makes the cafe look like a set for a magazine spread just by lounging in the matching cherry wood table and chair, and you can't help but stand there and shamelessly stare at him. god really has his favorites.

His work must require him to travel to different countries and have photoshoots in scenic spots, oh how you wish you could also jetset to other countries. Packed schedule for the day that he doesn't have time to think about what he is going to do next. That is a luxury you don't have especially in the ber months for there is a decline in customers and with no one to entertain, your mind goes on an overdrive pondering on uncharted waters of how you have nothing else going for you but run this cafe.

Aside from his penchant to wear all black, read a novel while drinking his choice of beverage - choice of beverage you ask? - you see the other peculiar thing about this man is that he doesn't have a 'regular drink'. Most if not all people who go to a cafe know what they are going to order before they have set foot inside. This man doesn't, his eyes would flit on the menu, scanning from left to right and back again. It is almost ritual like, this would go on for a good minute or two as you drum your fingers on the counter waiting for his order. 

The snow is falling outside covering the otherwise grey pavement white, decorations for the festivities hung around the four corners of your quaint cafe. Yet here he is, nursing a cup of coffee instead of being somewhere else. Doesn't he have a family? to celebrate Christmas with?

"Can I help you?" The man said, turning his face slightly in your direction not quite yet abandoning the book in his hand.

"Ohh uhmm-" you were jolted out of your trance, startled you took a sidestep only to collide with the chair where a large unzipped duffel bag was placed. The contents of the bag spilled over. 

"Shit! I am sorry." You quickly knelt to the ground to pick up the scattered items on the floor, the man joined you. Charger, earphones, epsom salt, bandage, and tiger balm ointment as you picked up the items you also increasingly grew baffled. What a weird assortment of things. You reached for the item that somehow managed to get under the table and as your fingers came in contact with the rough material of the cloth you learned that your assumption of his job was wrong. A man's canvas ballet shoes.

I thought he was a model.

"What?" The man questioned. You wince to yourself you just didn't say that out loud. You emerge from under the table to find that the man was looking at you too intently for your liking. His eyes sought out yours waiting for an explanation and as if you owe him one you started explaining yourself. 

"Well, you are tall and extremely handsome so .." Cringing as the words flew out of your mouth. The man chuckled at your confession, a tell tale sign of a smile on the corner of his lips.

"I am flattered really but as you can deduct by now I actually do ballet." He rose to his feet and offered you his hand to help you stand up. 

Unlike other days where he will leave the cafe after an hour or two, this time he stayed and unlike other days where you find yourself alone in the cafe; you find yourself enjoying the company of this mysterious man. 

Where you quickly learned that all your presumptions about him have little truth in it. You learned that his name is Sicheng, and he is a principal dancer for the Korean National Ballet company not a model although with his looks he might as well be one. Yes, he travels but mostly for tours and performances. He practices an average of eight hours a day. 

Your fascination for his life spurred the conversation as if you were friends catching up with each other. With the book set aside and the contents of the cup long empty you two didn't notice how much time had passed. He bid you goodbye with a promise to visit you again tomorrow. As you watch his retreating figure getting smaller, the snow piling on top of each other over the glass windows of the cafe there was a smile on your lips - the warmth of a newfound friendship is akin to a good cup of coffee - making you warm from the inside out.

Christmas 2017 - Cappuccino

"Surprise me," Sicheng said leaning on his hip at the counter, arms crossed on his chest, when you asked him what he would like to drink. Standing there he looked like the culmination of your dreams.

Maybe it's the iridescent lights from the numerous christmas lights that flickered on his face making him look more exquisite or the grin he gave you after. You did surprise him but not in the way he was expecting and to be honest you are also shocked by your sudden brazenness as you lean in to kiss his plush lips. The kiss didn't last long, a little more than a peck but long enough for you to regret it.

"I .. I am sorry," you stammered burying your heating up face in your hands, embarrassed. You didn't even see Sicheng's reaction, was he appalled? You peeked through your fingers to find out, when Sicheng started laughing, tipping his head back a little, eyes crinkled in mirth, his right hand covering the half of his handsome face. 

You want nothing more than to shrivel up in one corner. He started tugging at your wrists, pulling your hands away from your burning face.

"Mind giving me more of that surprise?" The corner of his lips curved upwards, nose slightly crinkled, and you wished to etch his face to memory.

Christmas 2018 - Americano

He was late, you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it is now 11 P.M. and soon Christmas will be over. 

The americano you have prepared already cold, his untouched while yours halfway finished. It's fine though because you know that this will be the first of the many Christmases you have to spend without Sicheng. You must get used to spending it alone again. 

Musing to yourself your mind quickly took a trip down the memory lane of his last visit to the cafe before he got on tour with the company for one of the holiday stage productions. 

--------

You have only heard the thud of the door as it closed on its hinges. You are currently cleaning the countertop back bowed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you meticulously scrubbed at the stubborn grease that won’t budge, lifting your head to do the customary greeting, when something or rather someone barreled straight to where you are, engulfing you in a tight hug that shoved you headfirst into that someone’s chest your nose burrowed deeply into the black cloth. 

Recognizing the intoxicating scent of light musk and citrus, relief flooded you as you hugged Sicheng back. You don't know how long the two of you stayed in that position basking yourself with his warmth just a little longer.

He's real, he's here a safe and solid presence by your side. You can count by one hand the things that have endured with you throughout the years, other than the cafe which you have run since your mother got sick, dropping out of college to keep it going. And one of those is Sicheng you've found in him stability and comfort your past partners can't give you.

Sicheng pulled away putting some distance between the two of you, his arms naturally falling at his sides. He was wearing one of his brightest smiles, the apple of his cheeks high and pronounced on his face.

"_______, I've been offered the position of principal dancer at Bolshoi Ballet in Russia," He can't help but smile again clearly enthusiastic with the prospect of joining one of the most prestigious ballet companies.

It took you a moment to answer settling with an unconvincing, "Wow." You don't know how to react with his news, but you feel dread in the pit of your stomach. You don't like the idea of him leaving. You try not to let it show in your face.

"I know. I was also surprised." As if sensing the change in your demeanor he asked concerned, "Is something wrong, ______?" 

"Nothing let me whip you a drink I found from the net," you brushed him off with a wave of your hand. 

----------

"Hey _______, I am sorry there was some minor traffic that held us back," Sicheng announced his entrance that broke your reverie. Setting his duffel bag on the floor to sit on the opposite chair facing you.

His hair tousled, cheeks rosy and nose red but despite his healthy complexion you can also see the pronounced bags under his eyes with a tinge of violet. He looks tired and in dire need of rest. Yet he headed straight to the cafe instead of his apartment. 

"Sicheng I've wanted to tell you something," perching your arms on the table to fiddle with the ear of the cup.

"Yeah?" Sicheng asked, staring right at you.

"I think," you cast your eyes down on the table, and with a small voice continued, "we should break up." 

"You think?" 

"I mean we should"

"Why?"

"I ... it's just that it will be easier for you." Your hands started gesticulating in the air.

"Don't give me that bull shit. You are not the judge of that," Sicheng replied in a cold manner.

"It's just you have this life before me and you'll also have a life after me." Your voice cracked, and you gathered your strength to look at him. "I am grateful that you have been a part of my life. You are crazy talented and right now the world opens up in front you and you deserve better. I can't give you that I ..-," clutching at your chest, "I am just me."

"It's nice to know that you think of me as some temporary phase in your life and here I am fool enough to think that maybe you'll want to come with me to Russia," a cruel laugh slipped from his lips, "christ, I can't even choose what coffee I'll be having and finally for once in my life I've never been so sure of anything," voice trailing, "but us.

"So I'll still ask because I know I will regret it, if I don't. Do you want to come with me?" Sicheng pierced you with his eyes, wearing his heart out on a sleeve. Leaving himself unguarded and hoping you'll come through.

But you have never been brave. "I'll stay and you go."

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

Christmas 2020 - White Chocolate Mocha

"I told you Renjun you don't have to do your shift at Christmas." You look up to reprimand Renjun, and instead are met with familiar feline eyes that seem to see right through you. There stood Sicheng looking like an intricate piece of art displayed in the museums. It is more painful to look at him than anybody warned it would be. It hurts how familiar you are with him still dressed in black - turtleneck and slacks, his trusty duffel bag hanging on one shoulder, he's still the same but now you are nothing more than a past fling to him.

"Hey," Sicheng walked towards the counter greeting you.

"Hey," you shake your head from the trance that took over you, "Oh I'll make you something."

"I'll have a white chocolate mocha." Slightly surprised by his request it took you a second to start preparing it.

"When did you come back?" You inquired as you moved about to prepare his drink.

"Yesterday night" 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have fetched me?" He asked nonchalantly.

You momentarily stiffen evading to answer the question you throw another at him, "How are you? Is Russia treating you well?"

"Can we cut the crap out? As much as I love dancing, I don't like dancing around in circles. I've come back for one reason only." 

"Will you come with me to London?"

Looking at Sicheng standing there - after how much you have hurt him - you thought you will never see him again and you have long accepted that punishment. You are not brave and you will never be but

"Yes, I'd love to go with you."

what you have with him is worth it.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

[celosiaa]

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

*

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

*

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

<3

[maverick-guy]

2012’s successor, quarantine life, the Philippine government, and everything else in between

To begin with, 2020 seemed dreamlike – this year was somewhat a clash of heavenly entities and hellish forces. The universe was not kind to us this time. Doing activities and routines outside were put to a halt, but with humans' confinement in their houses, it made our situation worse. 2020 has been a fast yet long year, and we may all feel that time now is linear.

Allow me to borrow a line from the 1972 film Grease: This is the life of illusion, wrapped up in trouble, laced with confusion.        

Most would agree that the words above sum up the year 2020. An unfortunate series of events have taken place – from the Australian Bushfire crisis, the Iran-US conflict to earthquakes in Mindanao and the eruption of Taal Volcano in Batangas – and these events have transpired in the first quarter of 2020. It seems like a frightening state to begin the year.

Afterwards, life was starting to be okay. People were adjusting with initial solutions to problems and ready to start anew, but coronavirus emerged. Reports say the first local coronavirus case struck in January – and due to a rise in positive cases, collective fear transpired in March, thus declaring coronavirus as a pandemic.

During the enhanced community quarantine (ECQ) in March, changes were relatively minimal since people could continue their businesses at home. But some of which lost their jobs resorted to starting food businesses or grieve because of said situation.

It's funny yet disturbing to witness that the government officials thought of matters that are supposed to be "important", but negate the needs of ordinary citizens. There were also debates about the enforcement of travel ban during the first quarter of 2020, but to our disdain, it was never taken seriously. In the end, we suffered a lot from their gambit during people exclaiming for assistance.

People get nervous each time the government transitions to the loosened GCQ. Businesses, travel, and movement imposed some restrictions, but there's the liberty of people to go out and do [unimportant] stuff. Some boomers also mentioned that this pandemic is a divine intervention, telling us to step up our faith and keep praying until we see the hope of day. So weird to think of.

As time passes by, everyone has set and bat their eyes on social media. With boredom and temporary pleasure, the rose of TikTok dance challenges has become a trend, along with experimenting DIY recipes and snacks. The creation of support and humorous Facebook groups has also been a craze, helping us cope while in quarantine by sharing memes, tips, tricks, tutorials, and advice according to members' inquiries and concerns.

Though these temporary distractions made us somewhat feel on edge, social hurdles increased such as unemployment rates. A few lucky corporate employees are compelled to the transition to work from home; and for students to continue their education online. Some were not ready for this sudden change of lifestyle as they may lack the resources and mental capacity to keep moving forward. Along with financial issues inflating, hopes and dreams feel deteriorated.

2020 did not feel the need to stop, as it delivered more than we ever expected. There is the shutdown of ABS-CBN, the demise of George Floyd, hence advocating the socio-political movement #BlackLivesMatter, and the implementation of the Anti-Terrorism Bill, as it being unconstitutional inflicted dangerous implications towards the society.

Throughout the ber months, people thought of celebrating the holidays is something we all looked forward to, yet another shooting incident caused by the police emerged. Jonel Nuezca, an off-duty police officer, shot his two unarmed neighbors, Sonya and Frank Gregorio, due to a heated discussion over right of way and the use of a boga. The untimely shooting incident emerged on social media, along with netizens expressing their protest with the acronym A.C.A.B (All Cops Are Bastards), and the hashtags #StopTheKillingsPH, #JusticeForSonyaGregorio, among others. These phenomena struck us of the social realities we ought to face.

Not to mention some of the heart-breaking deaths of celebrities this year: NBA legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna, actress and singer Naya Rivera, and YouTube vlogger Lloyd Cafe Cadena, made us feel disposable. Netizens can’t help but spit these words with spite: GRABE KA, 2020!

Once a new year has come, people always claimed that it would be their breakthrough. 2020 was the most anticipated year for redemption, but unexpected turnovers left us clueless on what’s in store for us in the following days, dominating anxiety and resentment. It is then claimed that this pandemic may change our lives forever.

People could go all night, overthinking about the simplest and pettiest stuff. With chaos going on, the utmost priority should be safety, security, and survival. One's daily routine felt timid, hence the desire to feel free again. People are now forcing themselves to perform their duties and just call it a day.

No one gets ready for a pandemic. There may be warnings beforehand, but it isn’t the ordinary citizens’ fault – it’s the government’s accountability to look after. As much as possible, I do not want to sound overly political, but the government’s incompetence affects the rise of numerous COVID cases each day – why plenty of Filipinos still suffer and plenty of then-employees remained jobless.

It’s a good thing that searching for new ways to thrive is an innate feature we acquire. However, I also do not want to glorify our resiliency, as being a Filipino is commonly construed as “resilient people.” If there comes a similar situation in the future, people should use their “resiliency” to stay at their homes, and be careful at the very least. But one thing that needs to be changed is the decision-making and planning of our government officials. The birth of our chaos came from them, so it shall end from them.

We are close to bidding farewell to 2020, yet the glimmer of hope seems far away to be achieved. Ambiguity lingers as we ask ourselves “What does 2021 have in store for us?” Are there people still looking forward for more pains and unfavorable events and perceive them as a leeway to unlock the tool of growth and our power to keep moving forward? Are we still going to settle for the bare minimum and keep our “resiliency” intact?

With all these points elaborated, this now begs the question: did the world really end in 2012? Or these unfortunate events are just unusual to us and we are, more or less, capable of taking action to undermine our demons?

[pinkchronicles]

Love And Sacrifice

I know super late na blog na ito but I'm still going to write it anyways. No reasons, I just have to. I've had good birthdays these past few years but for some reasons, I didn't really feel na complete or 100 percent happy yung birthday celebrations ko. Either something or someone's missing, I don't know.

This year, I changed things a bit. No major celebration other than a simple dinner. And when I say simple, I meant "SIMPLE". Nag-order lang ako from Jollibee and bumili ng ice cream and that was it. Oh diba, ang simple lang talaga! For some reason, the only things that I looked forward to was attending a mass and eating some burgers. Weird pero my annual birthday burger craving has been going on for like 3 years already. Hindi ko alam kung bakit at kung anong meron pero I couldn't say happy birthday to myself unless I have a burger in front of me. Okay lang kahit wala akong cake basta may burger ako. Ganong level sya sa akin! Hahaha! So, that's what I did. I ate a burger and I attended a mass after 99 years! Hindi ko na ma-remember yung last time that na nag-mass ako. Maybe it was a couple of months ago and I am not proud of it. Definitely not proud nor happy about it because one of my goals this year is to rebuild my faith and my relationship with God. I know the topic is kinda off. I also don't like discussing my "faith and relationship" with Him because I feel like I appear as pa-nice girl. And "nice" is one of the adjectives that I don't think suits me in aaany way! Hehe

So, as I was saying, matagal nga akong hindi nag-mass. I was looking forward to hearing the Gospel. Yun naman kasi talaga ang favorite part ko sa mass. It's what I always go there for kasi it makes me feel like I am getting a spiritual cleansing and counseling. It renews my faith, it makes me re-think my choices and my mistakes, how I interact with other people, how I treat other people, how I am as a person and the kind of heart that I have. It does all those things but on a deeper level. It makes me re-assess myself. Anyway, first time ko mag-attend ng mass sa church that is inside the mall. It was in Landmark, Makati. I was kinda hesitant about it at first kasi feeling ko hindi sya ganon ka-solemn kasi nga it's inside the mall. And it's NovemBER! Malls are crazy jampacked here every BER months (months that ends in "BER")! Kaya I was really amazed and impressed when I saw how solemn that church is and how devoted my fellow mass attendees were. You could tell from their faces na every single one of them went there not because they wanted to or someone asked them to but because they needed to. Malinaw ba yung pagkaka-describe ko? Hahaha! Okay, let me rephrase that. They were there because their hearts and souls yearns for it. Yung atmosphere was filled with everyone's neediness for God and their overflowing faith. I felt small and embarassed because my faith do not even come at par to theirs. Not that I'm comparing but I have never attended a mass having a spirit like theirs. You won't see a single person inside that church na natutulog or bored or whatever during the entire mass. Maybe I am the only one who looked bored because I kept a straight face the entire time. I always keep a straight face anyways! Hahaha! Even yung Lola na nasa front ko, tinalo ang faith ko. I guess she's around 90 years old. She has Alzheimer's or Dementia, I'm not sure which but you could tell from the way her son tends to her na may memory problems na sya. But even so, she kept quiet and listened intently to the mass. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Namiss ko bigla yung Lola ko. I have never ever attended a mass with a crowd like that that's why I really had to write about it. Parang biglang naging favorite church ko na yun! Hehe

Another thing that really moved me that day was the main subject of the Gospel. It was about love and sacrifice. The priest said, you can't call it love if it doesn't affect you. And you can't call it a sacrifice if it also doesn't affect you. Kung mahal mo daw talaga ang isang tao, kailangan always ready ka na mag-sacrifice. Kailangan apektado ka sa lahat ng nangyayari. He also said something about forgiveness. I can't remember the exact thing he said because at that moment, parang biglang naging clouded ang isip ko. I suddenly started re-assessing myself. Nagmahal ba talaga ako? Apektado ba ako? Nag-sacrifice ba ako? - It was a quick YES deep inside me. Now am I ready to forgive? - NO. I'm not ready to forgive. Mahirap i-forgive ang taong hindi naman humihingi ng tawad sayo at walang nakikitang mali sa ginawa nila kahit na super obvious naman na meron, meron, meron! Sure, they had their reasons and I also have my reasons on why I'm choosing not to forgive. Hindi ko sinasabing forever ako magiging bitter ha! I don't want to sound selfish or madrama but hindi madali ang mga pinagdaanan ko in the past years and maybe sila din. But one thing I can admit is that everything that happened changed me on how I am now as a person and it's not a good one. Am I proud of who I am now? - No. I think the last couple of years was the best version of myself. The old saying is true. Pain changes people. But I know this is part of the process to healing. Process na almost 2 years ko na yatang pinagdadaanan. Hehe. At wala akong balak na madaliin ang sarili ko because naniniwala ako sa due process of law! Hahaha! Simple logic lang naman yan. Mas malalim ang sugat, mas matagal gumaling. Ang magagawa ko lang para sa sarili ko right now is to appease myself in knowing that in the end, sa lahat ng mga nangyari, whatever or with whoever it is, it's all going to be worth it. I hope you are worth it.

[krisyyydvd]

It’s been a ride 2021!

The year is about to end and as I have done in the past three years, I will now tell you about how my whole year has been! Is it me or just my memory has been forgetful lately, when I think about it, I seem to forget how it entirely went each month. So I had to honestly check my gallery to keep up. So here we go! It's obvious that I welcomed the year with a happy heart. Despite the pandemic, I was able to find love and experience all the good things that came with it. Though, it's not all pros. I learned how hard it is to fall from a cloud 9 and to build something intangible but it's the basis of all things. I almost thought that maybe this wasn't for me, it's all about choice and I decided to try again and "glow so bright until the darkness softly clears". The month of love came, unlike any other Valentine before, I can now say that I got the best of it! CDC became my fave place of the year, it's a space to gather, sit down with someone, enjoy my cup of french vanilla while embracing the cool breeze at night. Since I was really looking for a cold windy place, My Family and I went to Tagaytay in March! Indeed, it's like you are in a Signal number 3 storm but without any rain, just cold winds. It was exactly what we're looking for! This is the month my bbq and I started going to places that we've never been to, we went to Lubao bamboo hub! April came,  where we experienced what we are just seeing on the TV. A family member tested positive on Covid. We were on lockdown, we can't set a foot outside of our doorstep. Thankfully, all of us are safe. Realizing that there's a lot of people who care about us too. So when we finally reached May, we celebrated my mom's 61st birthday and invited many people who helped us along the way. This is the month that bbq and I went to Sunflower farm, we have no one to take a pic of us, so we must find a DIY photographer haha. My Fam decided to go to iCove Subic, my first beach this year! Time to flaunt my excess fats again! I went there with pink hair and went home with corn-like hair. While I'm typing this right now, I realized that I've been everywhere! Good Lord, thank you for keeping me safe. June came, this is the month that I have exhausted all the Brilliant available in our house. Since it's still summer, my co-works decided to go to Baloy, Subic. It's the first time that I went to the beach with my workmates and my bb. Then after a week, my fam suddenly decided to Pangasinan! It was lovely that I had an afterthought if what is my life if I decided to settle there haha, effects of watching too many Isla life vlogs. Then my birthday came, after all those exposed to the sun, I'm not so sure about how I look haha, I celebrated with loved ones and had a blast! Time passed by, I got so excited for my bb's bday so August came like a flash. The surprise became successful thanks to his Family! Though he kept on knowing about it, ugh not a good planner I guess. Cold winds started to some again as Ber months is approaching! We decorated our house the moment September came. Just so you know, this is the month when my Dad trusted me to bring the car on my own! It's more like I snuck it once, then I went home safe. So since that day, I am so proud of myself for my driving skills! I went to a lot of cafes with friends. But I don't credit myself for parking. I also joined a Real Estate group, at first it was just for the experience but then I got along with the people there and somewhat loving what I'm doing now It's not always rainbows and butterflies, my dear friend left for Canada. I felt alone for a while, all of my one-call-away friends are not here anymore. I was the one who's always left behind. Unchanging. Then I lost my job in November. This challenged me mentally and financially. I remember asking my friend to take me out because I can't face my family. But my family said that it was okay and I need to take a break. My whole month has been very spontaneous, I'm always outside having fun, I'm barely at home. So I think that whole month went like a flash! All of the blessings showered in December, I reunited with my friends and I got a new job with very kind workmates, I had a very memorable 1st Anniversary with my love, had a splendid Christmas, went to Tagaytay and Enchanted Kingdom with friends and I sold a house in RealTour!  All of these are possible because of the people who helped me along the way and God never left my side even when I lost my way. Here I am writing, 3 days before we welcome 2022, my heart is full of gratitude. I'm realizing how blessed I am and that everything really happens for a reason. 2021 has been a year of challenge, travel, and full of discoveries about what I can do more. I'm so proud of this version of me, I don't know what will happen in the following years but I just wanna pat myself and say that I did great. It's been a ride 2021, I learned a lot from you and I will face 2022 with a brave heart.

[heeeyjoey]

Is God doing something new to you?

I just did my devotion today and the question that struck to me the most is: "Is God doing something new to you?" For quite a long time already, my days have been mundane -- including my spiritual life. I feel no energy doing ministry, I have no drive and motivation to disciple and reach out to others. I feel like there's something lacking and that there's no new thing that is happening in my life. Everyone else is getting married, settling down, landing a better job, going overseas, welcoming new opportunities, getting pregnant! While I look back at myself, being stuck not just literally, but in life. It seems like everyone else has things going on in their lives while there are no new things for me. 

Then I remembered having to attend this webinar about men supporting women at work. And there's this millennial guy who said that it's actually in the boring state of the relationship should you stick with your partner and love them even more. Because love doesn't always have to be something grand or extravagant. Sometimes, it's in those boring parts that you feel and become at peace with the one you love. And then I realized that with my relationship with Christ, it doesn't always have to be a revival night or a promotion or a sudden illness that has to arrive in order for me to feel His presence. Because His presence never goes away. He is omnipresent. God is there not just in the ups and downs but even in those moments where you feel like it's just a flat line. When you feel like nothing's happening. When you feel stuck. God is present. Sometimes, the reason why we don't ~feel~ His presence, is because we're waiting so badly for that enormous thing to happen. For the drought to happen. For the abundance to happen. We're waiting for something big so much that we fail to realize that He is present even in the small. 

In the Philippines, the moment -ber months arrive, it signifies the beginning of Christmas already. And it may seem like things are just repeating every year. Holidays arrive every year. Birthdays are celebrated every year. But when you come to think of it, the numbers in the calendar are never repeating. Yes, "September 1" will arrive again next year. But "September 1, 2021" won't. This simply means that in our every waking moment, there is always something new. Because there is no such thing as two days where the same things happen. There has to be something different.

Although sometimes, new doesn't mean different. Because we serve the same God who was the God of Jacob, Moses and Abraham. Yet, He shows Himself to us in different ways. He shows Himself on your morning train ride to work where He protects your travel. He shows Himself on your morning coffee when you feel that mundane yet exciting sip of coffee signifying that your day has started. He shows Himself on the people you meet every day -- how He's been good to them or how you can show how good He is to them. He shows Himself in circumstances where you thought there is not even a slightest bit of hope and yet you met your miracle. He is there. And at the very moment I am writing this, I can feel His presence. And I know deep down, very clearly, that He is here.

[forthelalaland]

September 1 👑

Thank you, my Almighty God! My favorite month has already come! I do not know too but I really love celebrating the whole September instead of my birthday only. For some reasons, I just feel this ninth out of twelve as perfect. That as the -ber months begin, I too can. Yuh-uh! New month, new week, new day. Thus results to another start of something new with self. 💖

Just recently, I posted something about me, fixing myself again since this fourth of August. This year may not be the best as it has been a zigzag road. But hey, I am still not finished, I chose not to give up. Like a magic, this shift then seemed so good, so easy, so I made it! After a long time, I saw myself again – like for real real. Got a chance to be even more! Things has been consistently good and I am proud of myself because of that. 💖

I always say this, and it has become my motto: start of something new happens every day. And I guess you know it, this first day of September, year 2017 served as my start of something new too. This time though, level up! I made things happen last time. Gotta make it better this time. I will! Oh, my heart and soul! So much thanks to that good sleep that began the chapter of everything. The simple yet freeing focus and concentration just made me, me! Followed by those motivating and inspiring readings? Oh what a package! I felt like I cleansed myself that day because inside me, I know I have let go and let God. I will always be challenged yet, I already accepted that life comes that way and it just depends on how you will deal with it. Fight it, break it, all up to ya! I got to embrace mindfulness so I can move right. Of course, in accordance to Him. And that I guess is the reason why I feel okay no matter what comes my way. Aside from my love on first’s and excitement for my birth month, I received a hope to battle again. However this time, I know I am not alone anymore. I am with G, with my loved ones, my dreams. Always. All ways. 💖

Seven years. Almost seven years have I waited for this perfect, right time. Uhuh, this could be the start of something new. Why do I say so? Why not? Haha! Well… It is because I feel whole more than ever! That morning, I know I am born again, that I was able to renew my mind, heart, and soul. All of these are credited, grateful, to the best man above. Nothing to say more. 💖

This day has been so good, I do not know how will I end this post. All I have in my mind right now is that, I just had a whole new game in this life and it is just getting started! Because of that, I gotta work and work and work to pursue the life I have been dreaming. No, I will not waste my chances anymore. Never again. I am so looking forward for what’s to come. Yes for the better! Everyday must have growth. Training to be my first-rate self! 🎉

[simba-bonfamille-lyons]

Felix Felicis [Part Two] /./ [Self-para]

In which Simba learns his heart’s desire...

[surprisingly no trigger warnings bless]

The sun was shining when Simba stepped out of Melaenis’ cottage, Berlioz in tow. It was warm, there was a light breeze moving wispy white clouds along the skyline. A beautiful day, a perfect day. Simba felt the magic in his toes, in his heart, thrumming through him like the blood in his veins had turned golden. There was a bounce to his step, a certain buoyancy that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

As he gamboled down the front steps and his trainers crunched into the path leading back to the main road, he turned to Ber, smiling sunnily.

“I’m going grocery shopping,” he announced brightly.

“Er—what?” Ber’s brow furrowed a little, he was kind of look at Simba like he’d lost his head. Probably just his nerves still. It was very cute—both the expression and the fact that Ber had been so worried for him.

“Grocery shopping,” Simba repeated.

“Uh…okay—do—do you want me to go with you?”

Simba stopped as they came to the end of the pathway, tilting his head to the side a little. “No, I’ll be okay, I think. But thank you so much for asking.” He swung their hands together between them before tugging Ber a step closer. “Get home safe, okay?” he asked, brushing their noses together. He touched Ber’s face gently with his free hand and kissed him sweet. “I love you,” he told his boyfriend when he pulled away. “I don’t need a spell to tell me that.”

The comment made Ber snort, blush, and bite at his lip. Ugh, he was so cute. Simba leaned in and pecked him on one of those pink cheeks before untangling their fingers.

“I’ll see you at home!” And with that, Simba turned on his heel and ambled down the road. He wasn’t looking to get anywhere in a rush.

Simba entered the grocery store with that same pep to his step as he grabbed a grocery cart and started towards the produce. He was whistling a little as he picked out peppers and pears. As a general rule, Simba didn’t step foot in a grocery store during Ramadan until the sun went down. It was normally way too hard to resist all the samples and the different smells, which would have him drooling as he watched people behind the meat counter cutting up a fish or putting icing on a cake. He’d be right useless. Usually. But, today, he wasn’t even thinking about the food. He knew exactly what he needed (also a feat, without a list, Simba was hopeless at remembering what they had at home and what they didn’t.)

About halfway through shopping, he heard his name being called.

“Mr. Simba! Mr. Simba!”

Turning on his heel, he saw Ernest and Delia, the twins from the Nativity play he’d helped with back in December coming towards them, their mother in tow. She was trying to shush them, but they were too excited as they ran ahead of their mother, both of them wrapping their arms around Simba’s waist.

“Oh! Hullo! Ernest, Delia. How’re you?”

“We’re great!” Ernest said excitedly. “We just had our last day of school.”

“Really? Did you get good grades?”

“I got better grades that Ernest,” Delia pipped up with a big grin.

“Is that so?”

“Not true!” Ernest snapped at his sister.

“Are you sure it’s not true, Ernest?” Simba asked, trying to hide his smile.

The young boy twisted his foot a little, looking down and shrugging.

“It’s alright, Ernest. You’ll have next year to try again. What grade will you be in?”

“Year three!” Delia said, holding up her hand and spreading her fingers out.

“Wow, that’s brilliant! My, you’re both getting so big.”

“Mr. Simba, why aren’t you at Sunday school anymore?”

“Oh, I was just—helping my friend Miss Anita out. I, uh—“ he glanced up at their mother, who was smiling fondly at the interaction “—I don’t go to church.”

“Oooooh,” they both said together.

“Mama is he gonna get in trouble?” Ernest asked his mother worriedly, twisting around to look at his mother.

Delia gasped a little and put her hand on the hem of Simba’s shirt, tugging a little.

“Why don’t you ask him?” she said gently, smiling at Simba.

Simba let out a little breath. He hadn’t told any of the parents that he was Muslim when he’d been helping out. Swynlake was way more open than most people, but he would be a fool if he thought that he wasn’t still gonna face some discrimination—or at least some upturned noses. Though, some of the parents already knew, he was sure. Still, it was nice that Mrs. Briggs was being so kind.

“I’m not going to get in trouble. I believe in God too, I just pray differently than you do.”

“Oooh, really?” they asked.

“Yeah. I don’t go to church, I go to a thing called a mosque. Have you ever heard of that?”

They shook their heads.

Simba pulled out his phone and typed mosques into Google, and talked as he did so. “Lots of people will tell you that Islam—that’s the kind of religion I follow—is different from Christianity, but it’s not really. Allah, that’s my name for God, he tells me to be good and to help people and, in return, he helps me in my life.”

“But Father McDaniel says there is only one god,” Ernest said, his brow furrowed a little.

“Yes, that’s true. Allah—it’s just—another name. Like a different language.”

“Like how un pomme is apple in French?” Delia piped up.

“Yeah, like that. Here, look at this.”

Simba handed them his phone, showing them the picture of the mosque he’d pulled up.

“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Delia cooed.

Ernest handed the phone back. “You should still come to church, we miss you.”

“Maybe I’ll come by on the next holiday.”

“Well, you missed Easter,” Delia accused.

“That’s true, I did.”

“We’re having a potluck next weekend to raise money for the victims of all those horrible attacks in Manchester and London,” their mother said softly, coming a bit closer. “You can come if you like.”

Simba smiled at her. “That’d be brilliant. I love a good potluck, especially if it’s for a good cause. But, er, what time is it at?”

“Around 7.”

“Ah, might be a little late. Ramadan,” he explained.

“Oh, yes, I forgot about that.” Mrs. Briggs frowned a little, watching her kids a few feet away debating over a package of vanilla or chocolate cookies.

“It’s alright, if you don’t celebrate it’s easy to forget. Do you mind if I bring my mum along? Boyfriend too, probably.”

“The more the merrier, as long as you bring something to eat.”

“Ah, trust me. The best part of Ramadan is the food, ironically enough.” Simba chuckled and so did Mrs. Briggs.

“You did a good job, handling that. I don’t think I would’ve explained it as well,” she told him.

Simba rubbed the back of his neck, blushing a little, but he grinned too. “Thanks. And thank you for letting me explain it. Y’know with everything going on…’s nice to know I can pass on the positives before they really know anything else.” Simba shrugged a little.

“What is it that you do, Simba? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Er, actually, I’m in the market at the moment.” Simba would usually hesitate to say this. He hated people knowing that he didn’t have a direction in his life, that there was no plan for him. It must’ve been the spell, giving him that little push. Giving him that sliver of courage. If he wasn’t so high off it, it’d probably make him sad to know that he needed something to give him the courage, especially for something so small.

“You know,” she said, drawing out the words, “I work at the Primary school. We’re always looking for help with the summer programs. If you’d like.”

The Primary school. A teacher.

Simba suddenly remembered months and months ago when Anita had mentioned something similar. She’d said that Simba would make a good teacher, but Simba had brushed it off. He wasn’t fit to be a teacher—at least, that’s how he’d felt at the time. He was a bartender, he was probably never going to be something else.

But, now, he was sober (mostly). He had a boyfriend who loved him and Kiara in his care. He felt good about his life, for the first time in a long time. He was looking forwards.

A teacher.

“Do you—mind if I get your number then?” Simba asked, his smile getting bright. “I—I’d love that, I think. Really.”

“Sure,” Mrs. Briggs said just as brightly and Simba pulled out his phone. She punched her number in and handed it back to him. “I hope to hear from you soon. You’d be a brilliant help.”

“Yeah, definitely. Thank you—so much.”

“Guys, say goodbye to Mr. Simba!” she told her children.

They flounced back over and gave him a hug. Simba leaned down to put his arm around their shoulders and squeezed them tightly.

“I’ll see you later!”

“Bye Mr. Simba!” They both said as they followed their mother down the aisle and around the corner.

Simba watched them go and then looked down at his grocery cart. He stared at it for a second and then walked around the side of it and kept walking, leaving it in the middle of the aisle (very uncharacteristic of Simba who was generally much more considerate.) The spell was tugging at his feet, though, and he felt unable to stop it. Not that he wanted to. It felt like he was gliding, actually, as he headed outside. He didn’t know where he was heading, but he breathed deeply the Swynlake air and went wherever his heart was taking him.

To his mother’s house.

He realized this as soon as he entered the Woods. Taking out his key, he put it in the lock. It was the same key he’d always had. Since he was nine years old. It slid smoothly into the lock and twisted, the door opening with a little creak characteristic of old houses.

“Mama?” he called.

“Ah, Mwana. In here!”

Simba turned right into the front room foyer where his mother was curled up on the couch there, reading “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”

“Hullo, Mama,” Simba greeted, smiling as he crossed the room to lean down and kiss her cheek.

She patted his own cheek in return, smiling fondly at her son as she drew her legs up so that he could sit down.

“Not that I don’t love seeing you, cub, but what are you doing here? You look like you’re on a mission,” she told him with a chuckle.

Simba’s leg bounced up and down once he plopped down onto the couch. He scratched a hand through his beard. “I think I wanna be a teacher.”

Sarabi’s eyebrows shout up in surprise. “Oh?”

“What do you mean ‘oh’?” Simba asked, his voice pitched high with distress.

He was worried, you see, worried still, that this might not be the right option. Even if it was what he truly wanted. And, it was. He knew that now. It was like all the spell had really done was dismiss his doubts so that he could see clearly. But, now, even though, he knew it was what he wanted, he didn’t know if it was something he should do.

His mother leaned forwards to put her hand on that bouncing knee.

“You just surprised me, love,” Sarabi said softly. She leaned back against the arm of the couch and watched her son, clutching her book to her chest. “I think you’d make a wonderful teacher.”

“Really?” Simba asked and when he turned to look at her, his eyes were shimmering with tears.

Putting her book aside, Sarabi turned so that she was sitting next to her son properly. She touched his cheek and then ran her fingers over his hair like she was tucking it behinds his ear.

“Of course, Simba,” she confirmed. “You have always love helping people. Teaching them.” She put her hand over his chest. “Your heart is too big, habibah. It is a blessing. You should share it with as many people as you can.”

Simba was quiet, looking down at the familiar carpet of his childhood home. He sniffled a little, but nodded just slightly. It was quiet for a few moments.

“What about Daddy?” he asked finally, voice choked. A few tears slipped down his cheeks and he sniffled again, rubbing at his face. He could feel his mother’s fingers stroking softly at the back of his head. She sighed and leaned her chin on his shoulder.

“Simba,” she said his name softly. “Your father would want you to be happy.”

“But—InterPride…he—“

“InterPride is…taken care of. You need to do what is best for you, my son. Move forward. Do what you love. He will be proud of you.”

Simba let out a choked sound but he didn’t say anything else, just let his mother stroke his head and his back, kiss the shell of his ear while he cried. He didn’t know if he believed his mother but he wanted to. He was going to choose to because she was right. The alternative meant being miserable his entire life. Always afraid to take the next step.

Eventually, his sobs turned into pathetic sniffling.

“Little ones?” Sarabi asked softly when she decided he had calmed down enough.

Simba laughed wetly and nodded his head, scrubbing his hand over his face again.

“You did always like the little ones, ever since you were little. I’m happy for you, cub.” Sarabi gathered her sons face in her hands, wiping at the tears tracked on his cheeks.

“Thank you, Mama.” Simba tilted his head to press his forehead against his mother’s.

He stayed at her house for another hour or so before stepping out into the early evening sunlight. As soon as his feet hit the pavement, his phone rang. Blinking, Simba pulled it out, not recognizing the caller ID.

“Hullo?”

“Is this Simba Lyons?” a peppy voice on the other line asked.

“Speaking.”

“Well, Mr. Lyons. I’m Stella from the community theatre! We know you auditioned for the role of Mercutio, but I have an alternative option I’d like to run by you.”

“Uh, okay. Go for it.” Simba’s brow furrowed, but he was intrigued.

“Well, one of the people who helps cast the play saw you helping a few of the younger kids with their monologues before their auditions, and we were wondering if you’d like to be our director for the teen production?”

Simba couldn’t help it. He laughed, big and loud, holding his phone away from his mouth, though there was no way Stella couldn’t hear it. It was bright as a bell.

“Uhm, Mr. Lyons?” she asked, raising her voice so he could hear her through the speaker.

“I—I’m sorry. Yes, no, of course—I’d love to. That’s—that’s brilliant. Thank you so much.”

“Oh! Lovely, then. We should get together to discuss duties and the budget and such like that whenever you’re free.”

“How does tomorrow look?”

“That’s perfect, let’s say nine in the morning?”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then. Thank you—thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.”

The phone clicked off and Simba smiled so wide it hurt, his heart thrummed with renewed purpose, with a fierce, shining confidence. And, it didn’t go away, either. Even after his watch began ticking at the normal time again and the spell left his veins. The feeling was still there, strong and sure.