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papergirllife · 3 years ago

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First Love

Lucas Wong / Yukhei

"They say first love is a special experience that one would always hold a special place in your heart. Wong Yukhei was your first love in high school, but along the way, you had to say goodbye to him in order for him to achieve his dream of becoming a star in Korea. Yet fate and destiny plays its role in paving the two of you an intersection once more, will the two of you and up together at the very end?"

Warnings : smut, unprotected sex, mild angst, a child (pregnancy not described), tooth rotting fluff (all in that order, kinda)

A/N : this is one of my most heavily devoted works I've ever written, so please, of you're comfortable, drop a feedback to tell me if you guys like this writing style, thank you!

Lucas Wong of NCT and most importantly his own fixed unit, Wayv, the man who garners attention and love wherever he goes, that dazzling smile is sure to be captured by numerous cameras of awaiting fans.

But to you, Lucas was never Lucas, to you he was Yukhei, and more significantly, your ex from high school. Yukhei was your first love, you remember when the two of you had first met in Year 9, Yukhei was known for being a class clown and more of a klutz, girls would always have a soft spot for him even if they didn't like him in that way.

Yukhei was your desk mate for Year 10, the thing got you on your nerves about him was that he never took group assignments seriously, and was never at school on time, his uniform was wrinkly from rushing out of his house to catch the bus and always had a stationary missing, which means he had to borrow yours.

You never hated him, hate is a strong word, things were very neutral with him, most times, he unintentionally annoys you, but he'd always make up to you by bringing you a small bottle of apple juice the next day. The only time the two of you really fought was when he had not spoken up when his friends snatched your book away from yours to copy you off, brushing it off as a small matter.

You were quite an immature person back then, and no one can blame you, you were just a teenager, and being said that, you had refused to lend Yukhei a ruler when the math teacher did a pop quiz, so he had to use the dust pan as no one, other than you that is, brings an extra ruler.

It's not your fault, you thought back then, he shouldn't have depended on you to bring his share of stationaries. The next day, you walked into class to see his group of friends waiting at your desk to apologize to you, and as for Yukhei, he had yet again brought you a bottle of apple juice, with the addition of your favourite bar of Cadbury.

It was only in Year 11 when Yukhei had confessed to you, saying that all those annoying things he did to you were just to catch your attention, of all the girls he could've liked, he chose the one who was the most unattainable, go figure.

The next year, when the two of you were looking to apply to the same college, Yukhei broke the news to you that he'd be packing his bags for Korea, that the audition he had joined just for fun accepted him as a trainee in a large entertainment company in Korea that everyone in Hong Kong knows, SM.

At first you didn't approve of his decision, that his education was important as well, that he had a life here, with you. But Yukhei had given very valid reasons to you, that he wouldn't have passed the college entrance exams if it weren't for your tuitions until late at night in the public library, that he didn't really have an interest in studying. His most valid reason was that he didn't want to take a toll on you when you’re in college, he can't have you sacrifice your sleep and attention for him just to have him attain passing grades.

So you let him go, saying your last farewell to him at the airport as his girlfriend and ex girlfriend.

That was the last time you saw him, choosing to not stay in contact with him as you poured your soul into university life, studying like your life depends on it, you had a few boyfriends here and there, nothing serious, nothing that made you felt like your first love. Maybe you had trouble moving on, or maybe it was just stress, you thought back then, shrugging the thought off casually before diverting your attention else where, this cycle carried on until you came out to work.

Fast forwarding to March of 2019, you had unintentionally came across of a news online that Yukhei had finally been placed in his own fixed unit that would be promoting and performing in Chinese, which isn’t surprising, even the Thai member, Ten, was of Chinese heritage. What made your eyes widen was the fact that they were coming to Hong Kong.

At the day of the fan meet, you had took the day off from your boring low paying job at the law firm, so much for studying your ass off for bar exams, you’re just filing on a daily basis.

Before the day of the fan meet, you had lived off of instant cup noodles for a few weeks just to buy the album and their light stick. When you first listened to the album, you were proud of Yukhei’s rapping skills, you still recall the days when he’d struggle with his mandarin oral tests, the teachers there must be much better than you for him to improve so much, smiling fondly at the old memories.

You waved the light stick and sang along just like the other fans beside you, mesmerised by the performance that the boys are putting up, but your eyes were mostly on Yukhei, you would’ve never thought the once clumsy giant like him would dance as fluidly, executing the moves just as well as the other smaller sized members.

You watch as Yukhei introduces himself and his non Cantonese members in his mother tongue, a feeling of familiarity settling into your mind.

You are quite a confident person, but queuing up to the long table where Yukhei sat at the corner was nerve wrecking to you, what would he say to you? Would he recognise you? It hasn't been that long, but the two of you had done some changes to your looks.

The other members had greeted you with a friendly smile and a few casual questions like have you eaten, but they seem a bit taken aback by the lack of fan girl attitude that most of the fans in front of you had.

When you had got to Yukhei, he had dropped his marker on the floor, his head ducked out of sight to retrieve it, but when he came up to apologise, the words were stuck in his throat, as his eyes opened as wide as saucers. He coughed to mask the surprise on his face.

“Hi, how are you?” He asked as he took your album into his hands, scribbling something down.

“Good, how have you been?” although his hair is coloured, his eyes had contacts, and he wasn't in his messy uniform, the smile on his face never changed.

“Great, it's nice to see you,” to other fans and the staff beside him, they might think it's just one of the standard answers, but you knew Yukhei like the back of your hand, registering the twinkle in his eyes.

Soon, he had placed the album back into your hands, your fingers grazing gently as tiny sparks flew up your tips, eyes never breaking contact until the staff tells you to leave.

When you had sat down at a nearby cafe to get a cup of coffee, you took out your album and flipped to the page where Lucas had written something.

‘Hilton hotel, 9pm,' and his number under it.

At nine sharp, you waited by the hotel’s sitting area, not many people at that time as usually stores in Hong Kong open rather late, patiently you waited for Yukhei. Just as you were scrolling through posts on Instagram, a tall figure approached you.

A call of your name rolled off his tongue naturally, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you.

“I bought you a little something before I got here,” you said as you stood up, letting him guide you to the elevators.

“What is it?” Yukhei lets out a flustered laugh, scratching the back of his nape when he realised he didn't get you anything in return.

“Roast goose and Cha Siew, are they still your favourite?” you asked, hoping his taste hasn’t changed over the years.

“Yeah, man, I remember how we'd always get quarter of both after school at Uncle Chan’s,” Yukhei said, remembering how the boss of the restaurant had hung a photo of two of you on the wall, deeming the two of you his most loyal lovebirds.

“This is from Uncle Chan’s,” you told him as you followed him into his room, looking around, expecting him to be rooming with someone.

“Don't worry, I told Yang Yang to sleep with Ten for the night,” Yukhei said when he saw you looking for someone.

“Oh, that's really nice of him,” you said as you set out the food, the smell of Hong Kong's famous delicacies wafting in the air.

“Man, I really missed this,” Yukhei said as he pulls the arm chair that was a few feet away close to the desk, directing you into it and situating himself in the not so comfortable wooden chair.

“I missed this too,” you said mindlessly, eyes avoiding his before you ate a piece of meat.

“I missed you too,” Lucas confessed, yes there are many pretty girls in his industry, and Korea itself, but no one would be able to replace you, you were his rock all his life, other than his family of course, it's hard to build a connection with someone just as strong when things between the two of you never really ended, in a way.

Leaving on too good terms and without much closure for both of you kept one another thinking of each other. The two of you know, that after tonight, things would go back to normal, Yukhei would be Wayv’s Lucas, and you’d remain as his past, there would never be an outcome from whatever happens tonight.

So when the two of you were recalling memories and troubles the two of you got in school on the oh so comfortable bed, you couldn't help it, hooking a leg over Yukhei’s waist, just like how it started at the night of the graduation party, the night where the two of you lost your virginities to each other.

“I’d be gone tomorrow, we shouldn’t, I shouldn't do this to you,” Yukhei said, a firm believer that it's always the girl that is on the losing side, like he's taking an advantage of you, ever the gentleman.

“I want this for myself, Yukhei, it's not like it's our first time,” you said, trying to convince him.

“I still feel guilty about our first time, I left a few months later after that night, and tomorrow would be the same, I'll be leaving you once more,” Yukhei said as his big hands caressed your cheeks, eyes wide like a puppy, pupils reflecting an image of you, a perfect representation of his universe, you.

“I don't care, I’ve moved on from you as your girlfriend all those years ago, moving on from you after tonight won't be a challenge for me,” you said in a firm tone, one that Yukhei knows all too well, he knows you won't give up when you sound like this.

He could possibly break two hearts if he chooses to act on his impulses, but he missed this, he missed you, and so he threw all caution out of the window when he smashed his lips desperately against yours, chewing on your bottom lip with little force, it was something that would easily get you worked up back then, and to his delight, it still worked, letting him dominate the kiss easily, he let his tongue slid in your mouth, tasting the beer the two of you had just now with a mixture of strawberry lip gloss, you were still using the Nivea one you used all those years ago, this only fuelled his desire for you, his hands leaving your cheeks to locate your waist, pulling you closer to him.

When you were out of air, you broke off the kiss, reaching the hem of your shirt to pull it off, then waiting a few seconds for Yukhei to admire the red lace on your skin before unclasping your bra, letting your blossoms free, all the while as Yukhei looks on, like he was in a trance.

“I missed these,” he commented before taking a mound into his mouth, sucking on your nipple diligently while his other hand comes up to roll it in between the pads of his fingers, the pleasure from the action making you throw your head back, a slip of his name in between your whimpers.

You let Yukhei push you back, letting you fall onto his bed, you felt his hands wander up your skirt, his huge hands around your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his palms, feeling you, but stopped when he reached the hem of your panties, detaching himself from your chest, looking at you for confirmation.

You nodded at him, putting your hand over his to guide him higher, stopping at the curve of your cheek, pushing his hand beneath the clothe, dangerously close to your core, heck he could even feel your arousal already, eyes rolling back at the thought of getting you so worked up.

“Take it off, but you can leave the skirt, for old time’s sake,” you said.

Yukhei looked at you, confused at what you’re trying to say, until he realised you were wearing a pleated checkered skirt, just like the ones you wore back in high school, memories of the two of you sneaking around, having a quickie with your skirt flipped up immediately made blood rush southwards at the thought.

“Fuck, you expected this to happen?” Yukhei asked, shaking his head in disbelief, he was always the troublemaker at school, but oh how the tables have turned now.

“Didn't you?” you asked before getting up to put yourself in a doggy position, shaking your butt, taunting him.

Yukhei chuckled to himself before doing as you say, taking off your panties to reveal your slick covered pussy, dripping wet for him on display.

Yukhei spreads you open by pulling your cheeks apart to lick a stripe up your slit, making you shudder at the warm muscle that was intruding but very much welcomed.

Yukhei allowed himself to fully stuff his face there, inserting his tongue into your core, thrusting the wet muscle at a moderate pace before adding a finger to the mix, then two, stretching you open to let his tongue delve deeper inside, he then adds a third finger, the fullness finally hitting you, soon he did a come hither movement once he had located your sweet spot, his tongue and fingers rubbing against the roof of your walls deliciously, you would’ve lost your balance if it weren't for his hand supporting you by your left hip.

The constant pleasure that Yukhei so willingly inflicted upon you would've soon come to an euphoric end if he hadn’t halted all movement, pulling out his tongue and his fingers, which made you whine his name pathetically, something you wouldn't have done if it weren't for the fact that your mind was reduced to a ball full of cotton.

“Chill, I worked you up so I wouldn't hurt you with my dick,” Yukhei said as he positions himself at your entrance, his hand coming up to your face to tilt your head to his direction, zeroing on your lust filled eyes and the plump of your lips, swollen because of him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Yukhei asks you one last time.

“Yes, please,” you said, pushing yourself back to lightly grind on his length, a little bit of your arousal getting onto his cock, his dick getting so hard it's starting to hurt.

“Ever so eager, aren't you?” Lucas said before biting his lip at the sight.

“Just put it in!” you whined, tired of his teasing.

“Okay, okay,” Yukhei said before bracing himself for your tight walls, he's never nervous when it comes to others, but you? You always held a special place in his heart.

Yukhei spreads your cheeks once more before aligning himself to slip in an inch, eyebrows furrowing at how tight you were, he could tell you were clenching up, just like you did the first time when you were nervous.

So he bends down to your back, placing gentle kisses along your right shoulder blade.

“Don’t tense up, there’s nothing to be nervous about, we did this before remember?” Yukhei said in his most gentle tone ever, you nodded your head at his words, adjusting yourself to let yourself lose in the comfort of his touch, reminding yourself that although it's been a long time since you had someone as big as him, you’ll be fine in his hands.

Once Yukhei felt yourself unclench, he pushes in furthermore, you felt yourself arching your back to allow him to fit himself easier, before he comes to a halt, you felt so full, you haven't felt this way in such a long time, it was somewhat overwhelming, but it's the most complete feeling ever, a feeling you've never felt with any other.

The initial stretch was slightly painful of course, but the pain soon turned into pleasure, and being the gentleman Yukhei is, waited for you despite the huge urge to move, waiting for your green light.

When you told him he could move, he felt like the gates of heaven just opened, pulling out slightly to give you a shallow thrust, just to test the waters.

Even with that experimental thrust, you felt like you had a taste of heaven, eager to drown yourself in this new found pleasure that you were once so familiar with.

Yukhei grasped his large hands onto your hips, setting a moderate pace, still restraining himself from snapping his hips, but from how much slick you were dripping, soon you'd be begging for more.

Once you felt yourself familiarise with his big cock, the pace that Yukhei had set wasn’t enough, you wanted him to let loose, you wanted him to rail you, be damned if you can’t walk tomorrow.

So in the midst of all the pleasure, you let out two desperate words breathlessly, “ruin me”.

Yukhei had to do a double take, pausing his movements entirely just to check if that was his mind messing with him or it was really you, but one look at your desperate face, revealed to him that was in fact your words.

Yukhei allowed the animalistic side of him to take over, holding onto your hips that would sure leave bruises the next day, but you didn’t mind, not when you felt a sudden surge of pleasure coursing through your body. He angled your body higher, arching your back for easier access, thrusting harder and faster.

You could only submit yourself to him as your toes curled and your fingers dig into the linen sheets, you’re sure if his members were next door, they'd be able to hear every single sound you make, the sound of your ass cheeks clapping against Yukhei’s hips and your high pitched moans were flowing freely, but you didn't care, not when this could be the last time you'd ever be with Yukhei.

Soon, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your legs were trying their best not to fail you, and you could tell your arms were getting sore from propping yourself up as the cord in your abdomen threatened to snap, you panted out the word ‘close’, and Yukhei immediately understood, fucking into you at an inhuman pace, you could feel yourself losing your mind as spit drips from your mouth, sanity slowly slipping away from you as you felt your impending orgasm, it started from the tip of your toes, your body convulsing as you screamed his name, succumbing into the pleasure, your core bursting, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, making your whole body sag in defeat as you let Yukhei help you ride out your orgasm.

Just when you thought it was all over, Yukhei gently flipped you over, and that’s when you realised he hasn’t cum, so you lifted your legs higher to let him enter you once again, he was using you like his personal doll, and you love it a little bit too much to be considered normal, you struggled to keep your eyes open as you fought through the slight pain from the overstimulation, hearing Yukhei’s mumble of appreciation and endearments.

“Can you give me one more, babe? Just one more,” Yukhei said before circling his fingers around your clit, making your eyes snap open when you realise he wants you to cum once more, your hands coming up to push his hand away, but his other hand grasped onto yours.

“Just one more, please,” Yukhei begged with those puppy eyes of his, and how could you say no?

So you stopped struggling, nodding your head at his request before he quickens the pace of his hips and the ministrations on your clit.

Soon, you could feel Yukhei’s cock swelling inside you before he let out a groan of your name, thrusting in one last hard thrust before he painted your walls white, his lips capturing yours to silent you as you came once more, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt Yukhei ride out both your highs.

Once he was done, Yukhei crashed onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around yours, kissing your lips to distract you as he pulled out, hopping into the attached bathroom to bring out two towels, taking off your skirt before he gently cleans you up, when he was done he wiped the juices you left on him, your eyes growing big when you knew it was from when you squirted on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I squirted,” you mumbled behind the hands that you had covering your embarrassed face.

Yukhei laughed at the cute sight, throwing the towel aside before climbing into bed again, removing your hands away from your face, kissing you deeply before looking at you in the eye.

“I loved it,” he said before pulling you closer, and almost instantly, you were lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart.

When you woke up, Yukhei was still snoring beside you, sleeping like a baby, you gently removed his hand from your waist, stepping out of the bed before gathering your clothes, putting them on, smoothing out the creases of your skirt.

Walking to the door, you glanced around once more at the sight of him, your heavy heart begging you to stay, to talk, and so you walked over to the night stand, ripping a piece of paper of the note pad and grabbing the pen next to it.

‘Goodbye and thank you for everything.’

You placed the piece of paper beside him on his pillow before kissing his forehead as a parting gift, closing the door as softly as you could when you left.

You knew this was the right thing to do, you made this decision once when he left for Korea the first time, you can't be in his way this time around, not when he's this far into his career, you can’t be selfish, he belongs on this path, he deserves it and you’re not going to take it away from him, you've stood on the side-lines all this time, he shed the limelight on you for one night, and that's all you should have, he's better off without you.

Yukhei felt himself grow cold when he couldn't feel the warmth of your body, jerking up to check if you were in the bathroom, only to find the door wide open, the room empty.

That's when he had spotted the piece of paper with your goodbye message, his heart clenching in pain, crashing onto the bed once more.

He didn't know what to expect, you had sent him off once, and now you left him without saying goodbye. He thought he could at least say goodbye.

Pushing his thoughts away, he gathered his things, packing up to leave for Korea.

His members could tell something was terribly off, they thought he was just in it for a casual hook up, but his expression tells otherwise.

The usual cheerful Yukhei was nowhere to be found, which meant Yang Yang and Hendery had to keep the mood light throughout the journey home, everyone knew to not say anything, only speaking when crucial.

It took Yukhei quite a while for him to get back to his goofy self, but even then, Kun, being the most observant one, saw a tightness in his smile, a faraway look in his eyes, whoever he had seen that night must've meant a lot to him, but he dare not to press, he knows Yukhei would open up when he's ready.

It was a normal Tuesday night when he had received a request to face time from you, without thinking much of it, excited to hear from you, he accepted, your beautiful face coming into view as he got comfortable on his bed.

“Hey, this is unexpected,” Yukhei said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yukhei, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, eyes avoiding his.

“Yeah, what's up?” he asked, rubbing his nape, a habit he does whenever he's nervous.

“I'm um, I’m pregnant,” you said, choosing to not beat around the bush.

You could see Yukhei's face pale when he processed your words. Is it his? It's definitely his, it's almost a month since the two of you slept together, unless you slept with someone else?

“It's mine?” a dumb question, but he needs to know for sure.

“Yeah,” you said before the two of you come to a piercing silence.

“You could get an abortion, maybe?” Yukhei suggested after contemplating in his head, there’s no way he could be in the child’s life, and that's the best option for your sake, raising a child in Hong Kong is the most expensive thing to do, equivalent to buying a house there.

“I decided to keep it, Yukhei,” you said, glancing up to see the disbelief on his face.

“You can’t, you know I can't be there for you and you’re still so new in your job, you can't risk your life for this!” Yukhei said, not comprehending on why you'd do this to yourself.

“I already decided, Yukhei, and I don't expect you to take responsibility, this is my choice,” you said as tears threatened to flow.

“That isn't fair, it's not fair for the child! A child needs its father! You don't know what you're doing! Being a single mum is next to impossible in Hong Kong! You're putting the child in a horrible situation just for your selfishness!” Yukhei said before pushing his hair back, the feeling of an impending headache forming.

“How dare you say that?! I’ll raise this child perfectly on my own, I was just calling you to inform you of it, but since you don't want anything to do with it or me, I guess this is goodbye and don't call me anymore, I won't change my mind,” you said before your face disappeared from his phone screen.

Yukhei tried calling you immediately after, a day later, several weeks later, but you never picked up. Then he started stressing about his career, what would happen if someone were to find out? But he knows you as a person, and being a tell-tale is not one of your characteristics, yeah, he can just act like nothing happened, like he had never received this call.

He knows he's running away from his problems, but what other choice does he have?

Fast forwarding to July of 2021, Yukhei is home after his filming of the popular Chinese reality show in China, Keep Running, he feels at ease when he sees his family, finally reuniting with them, but only for a short two weeks time, before he has to leave for Korea once more.

It was a Friday night when his friends from home took him out for a drink, he was not so familiar with the clubbing scene in Hong Kong, but with the knowledge he has of this area, he knows many rich and young people often here, just like the girl kissing up his neck now, her soft hands running up the expanse of his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he wants her to be.

Yet Yukhei doesn’t remember her name, was it Candy? Apple? Some sort of name that had to do with food, he just remembered that she told him that she was an up and coming model, or trying to be anyways.

Just as she suggested to go to some hotel, Yukhei suggested for a quickie in the bathroom first, and so here he is now, being pushed to the door of a stall, her hands trying to unbuckle his belt.

Yukhei reached the back of his pocket for his wallet, opening it, looking for the condom he had placed there, but cursed when he realised he must've dropped it when he paid for drinks.

He told her to go back out and wait for him to get some, leaving the club and the musky smoke filled place behind him, the summer breeze blowing his hair all over, he brings the hood of his jacket up as he scans for a nearby convenience store, locating one at the street across.

When he got in, the scent of curry immediately greeted him, it was your favourite food, everyday after school, no doubt you'll drag him into one of these shops, just to share a bowl of curry fish balls, one of the most famous snacks here in Hong Kong.

He pushed the thought away, trudging to the aisle that was on the most right, where the condoms were at, hidden away from children. He took a box and made his way to the counter, opening his wallet to take out a few notes.

The cashier turned her back from stocking the cigarette shelf, scanning the box wordlessly.

“That would be 30,” she said when she looked up, but her hand immediately dropped the box when she saw who it was, and that's when Yukhei truly opened his eyes to see who it was, at first he was just miffed not knowing why the cashier froze, then he sees you, in the worn out 7 Eleven uniform, was you, the last person he’d be expecting.

“Why are you here? What happened to your job at the law firm? Why...” Yukhei didn't know how to ask, he didn't know if he deserved the right to ask, yet there's so many questions he had swarming in his head. Where is his child? Did you abort it in the end? Did you give it up for adoption? Were you fired from your job because of it?

“It's my shift right now, and you seem to be getting lucky tonight,” you said stiffly, holding up the box for him to see, sliding it across the counter

“It's for my friend actually,” Yukhei said, eyes avoiding yours, but immediately looking at you straight in the eyes, remembering how you use to be able to see right through him whenever he didn't do the revision work you've given him.

“Right,” you said, resisting to roll your eyes.

“You haven't answered me, why are you working here instead of the law firm?” Yukhei pressed.

You sigh at his persistence, not knowing what to say to humour him, so you didn't say anything, getting back to rearranging the shelves.

Yukhei bit his lip, not knowing what to say to you, but a million questions in his head, desperate for answers.

“Please leave if you're done with your purchases,” you said, you had a long day, and the thought of entertaining him was not something you want to add on your plate.

Yukhei looked around the store once more, grabbing a bowl of instant noodles from the shelf before making his way once more to the cashier.

“I’d like to have this here,” Yukhei said before pulling out some spare change from just now.

“Yukhei, what are you trying to do?” you asked in an exasperated tone, there's no point making small talk when there's no way the two of you would ever cross in each other’s lives ever again.

“I'm hungry, I want to eat noodles,” which wasn’t really a lie, all the alcohol he drank before gave him an appetite.

You sighed, turning your back to him, soundlessly waited for the water to boil before pouring it into the cup, sealing the top for it to cook. As you worked, Yukhei was having déjà vu, this was an all too familiar sight, nights at the convenience store studying till late at night in groups, you'd always share noodles with him as you taught him some dumb math formula that no one uses in their life after school.

He takes his bowl of noodles, opting to sit at the place closest to the counter, just looking at you, eating as slow as humanly possible.

When it was around three, you received a call.

“Hello?”

“...”

“You think you have a stomach ache? Celine jia is asleep? Okay, mama’s coming home okay?” you said frantically before shutting off the stove of the food at the counter, running to the back for a pack of meds, depositing some money into the register. You looked at Yukhei, frozen at his seat, cursing at yourself for not going into the back room before picking up the call.

“You need to go, I have something to deal with,” you said as you grabbed your bag, turning off all the switches in one go, making the place pitch black other than the lights from the lamp posts outside.

“Is that my child?” Yukhei asked, he can't allow himself to act like it never happened before, he ran away once, it's time to man up and shoulder on his responsibilities.

“No I fucked another guy before you and it's his child,” you deadpanned.

You walked down the street to flag for a taxi that is always parked there to get their club goer customers, Yukhei hot on your heels, you turned back to look at him questioningly.

“This is none of your concern, don’t follow me,” you said in a rather seething tone, you didn't mean to sound like that, but if he's going to be in the way of your child, then he’s not a friend.

“That's my child too, I want to know how they are, I have a right to do so, you studied law, you should know,” Yukhei retorted in the most friendly way possible, he knows he's in the wrong, but he wants to ensure his child’s safety.

“For fuck’s sake,” you cursed aloud before stepping into the taxi, leaving the door open for him.

You told the driver your address, sitting back to think of what's the problem, the kindergarten shouldn't be the culprit, it's a school with a good reputation, which also burns a hole in your wallet, but you don't mind, and it's not like you have much of a choice, education is deadly expensive here.

About 20 minutes later, you've reached home.

“That'll be 150, miss,” the driver said.

“What?!”

“Fares are different after midnight, miss,” the driver reminded you.

Before you could check if you had enough money on you, Yukhei paid for it wordlessly.

You got out of the car, rushing into the building and running up the stairs as quick as you can, unlocking the door, jabbing the keys into the rusty lock.

Taking off your shoes before you made your way to your room, spotting your son crouched in the corner of your bed, hands around his stomach.

“Hey, mama's home, I'll get you a glass of water to take your medicine okay?” you said before hurrying out, Yukhei passing you a glass of water at the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before making your way back inside.

You open the package and passed you son a tablet, but looking at the size, you knew he’d panic to swallow something this big, so you broke it in half, telling him to drink a big gulp of water to wash it down and it'll be fine.

All the while, Yukhei was watching with wonder leaning by the door frame, even in the dim lights and the fact that he's still quite young, he could still identify his eyes on his son, the strong genes in his family, his father and brother all had those eyes, this boy is most definitely his.

The boy diligently does as you told him, taking a big gulp of water, so obedient, and from the way the two of you communicate, very mature for his age, nothing like the usual three year old.

When he was done, he noticed Yukhei’s presence, tugging your sleeve to whisper into your ear, eyes trained on him.

“That's a friend of mine, love, be polite, say hi to Yukhei gogo,” you urged.

Yukhei took this as a sign to get closer to his son, squatting down to meet his eye.

“You’re a handsome boy, what's your name? I’m Yukhei and I’m 22 this year, how about you?” Yukhei asked as he reached out his hand for the little boy to shake.

“I’m Wenghei, 3 years old. Why have I never seen you before gogo?” the child asks, looking at him with curious eyes, he's met some of your friends, but he's definitely haven't met him before, most people aren't as tall here, or not in his mother's circle anyways.

“Get some rest, love,” you said, tucking him into bed.

“Okay,” he said, a yawn coming out from his mouth.

You closed the door behind you, directing Yukhei to the small living room area, serving him a glass of water.

You walked to the trash bin, opening the lid to check its contents, a scowl on your face when you saw the root of your son’s stomach ache when you spot the plastic container that contained the two day old pizza from the freezer. Your roommate, Celine, must’ve gave him some as dinner, usually you'd leave some money for Celine to buy him dinner, but she must've been tight on money again, trying to find ways to squeeze in some spare change, you've warned her of her spending habits, always splurging on albums of her favourite stars, which reminds you.

“You have to go, I’m living with a roommate and I'm sure she's going to recognise you,” you said, a hand gesturing at the door.

“Wait, did you find out why he had a stomach ache?” Yukhei asked.

“Yeah, he ate something he shouldn't have for dinner, you have to go, I need some rest for tomorrow,” you said, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Do you have anything on tomorrow? Can I see you, perhaps?” Yukhei asked, he didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but he just had to see you again.

“I’m tutoring a student at a coffee shop tomorrow, you can come right after,” you said, thinking that he just wants to know more about his son.

“Okay, goodnight then,” Yukhei said awkwardly as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, feeling a weight on your chest, dreading tomorrow’s meeting.

When Yukhei arrived at the café, he could see you sitting at the way back, a teenage girl sitting in front of you, back facing him, he sipped on his latte, observing you silently.

Your hair is much longer than it had been in high school, the bag hung by your chair very much worn out, and your eye bags were heavier than on days where Yukhei would stay up to prepare for promotions.

Soon, the student was packing up, leaving the table, Yukhei took this as a sign to move to your table. You had stood up to greet him, and that's when he saw, you had lost lots of weight, and he's not meaning it in a fitness way, he recognised the jeans you are wearing, you had these even back then, they used to be a perfect fit for you, that's why they were your favourite, but now, you were wearing a belt to hold it together, and still he could see how loose it was.

“Hey, you didn't order anything?” Yukhei asked, noting that the cup of coffee he saw just now belonged to your student.

“I got a coffee in my flask, cheaper that way,” you said as you packed up your stationaries.

“What did you have for breakfast? How about I order you a piece of cake?” Yukhei suggested, looking back to see what they have today.

“It's alright, I'm not hungry, why don't we get straight to the point? What is it you want to ask about Wenghei?” you asked, noting the time on your watch, you have to leave around noon to fetch your son from pre school.

“I, how about you? Why did you leave the firm? And how’s your parents?” Yukhei started off.

“Well, they said I would’ve been an embarrassment to the firm, you know, pregnant and unmarried, so they told me to leave, it's not like filing could be done with a big weight in my stomach, so I did as they said. Now I tutor kids English and work the night shift at the convenience store, and as for my parents, they kicked me out,” you said, laying down the cards, no point avoiding his questions, especially not when you're in a hurry.

Yukhei nodded at your words, registering the fact that he had a fault in ruining your hot shot lawyer dreams and completely destroyed your sensitive relationship with your parents, how is he ever going to forgive himself?

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei said, he didn't know what else to say, how could he make it up to you and your son? Will you let him even if he could?

“Don't be, this is on the both of us, are you going to ask about the share custody stuff? If so, I don't think we should continue this conversation, Wenghei doesn’t know who you are, and maybe that's the best case scenario, what point would be made if he knew you were his father but you're not in our lives? It'll break his heart. You've seen him now, maybe you can reconnect with him when he's older, I think you should just say goodbye before you go, if you want,” you said, saying these harsh words aloud wasn’t easy, you’re not entirely a cold hearted bitch, but it's for the best that your son didn’t know about his father, no one wants to know the fact that their father abandoned them twice, some truths are better to be untold.

“Can I see him one last time, maybe tonight? For dinner? I'm leaving in two days,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Yeah, sure, I'll take the shift off tonight,” you said, eyes avoiding his, you could just tell he’d have those sad puppy eyes on his face right now, you don't need anymore guilt in your heart.

“Hey man, where were you?” Jackson asked Yukhei, who was waiting for him at the harbour, they were going to Macau for a day trip today, his friend isn't late for the boat, but they did schedule to meet 15 minutes earlier.

“Something came up, and I need to head back around 7, there’s some people I need to see,” Yukhei said as they boarded the boat.

“So that leaves us 5 hours, should be enough,” Jackson said, checking his watch.

“I’m sorry about this, man, it just came up suddenly,” Yukhei said as they took their seats, apologetic because they have been talking about this trip for a long time now.

“It's okay, dude, but what's up? You look really stressed,” Jackson asked, taking in Yukhei's clenched jaw and furrowed brows, a stark contrast from his usually carefree expression.

“It's a long story,” Yukhei said as he mindlessly watches the sea from the little window of his seat.

“Well, if you don't mind, this is a 45 minutes journey, maybe we'll be able to find a solution together, what are friends for am I right?” Jackson offered, he wouldn't press his friend if he didn't want to tell him about it, but the two of them have been close ever since going on knowing brothers, coming from the same home country and everything.

And so Yukhei, for the first time, told his friend his long love story.

“You know, I think I have a solution for you, but let me ask you one thing first, do you still love her?” Jackson asked as he ate his pork chop bun, Macau’s famous local snack.

Yukhei pondered over his friend’s question, yes the two of you agreed to break up, but all the girls he dated after you, all had similar features or personality traits to you, he had dismissed it as just a type, but now that he had seen you again, he realised that the hole in his heart was always emptied for you, you were the missing puzzle piece all along.

“You don't even have to answer me, your face tells all man,” Jackson said, an oily finger wagging at the direction of his face.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Yukhei said with a sigh, “but even if I still love her, that doesn’t mean she loves me back, and what if we do love each other? We're living oceans apart,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Now here comes my solution, so you said she got fired from her law firm and is now tutoring kids and doing the night shift at 7 E, and got kicked out by her shitty parents, so she really doesn't have anything else here for her other than her son, why don't you suggest get to move with you? To Korea? It'll be way easier for the two of you to raise your son, even if the two of you don't get back together, I mean, at least you'll be able to financially support them, that is what you're willing to do right?” Jackson asked, hoping that his friend would uptake his part of the child support.

“Yeah, of course I want that, I just don't know what she'll say, or if she'd be willing, she doesn't speak the language and it's an entirely different environment,” Yukhei said, thinking back the days where he had a tough time adjusting.

“From what you told me, she sounds like a tough nut, but of course, this is all up to you, but just so you know, I would really like to be his godfather, and as for your doubts of her love towards you, she did name him after you, isn't it the same Hei?” Jackson said with a hearty chuckle, he could just imagine the fun they'll have together, he was always fond of children.

“Yeah, I’ll persuade her on this,” Yukhei said, he could already feel himself getting nervous for tonight’s dinner, it can’t be that much of a coincidence that his son’s last name resembled his right? Or is he and Jackson just being delusional?

“Now that's my buddy, now come on, finish your food so that we’ll make it in time for the next batch of Portuguese egg tarts, I remember they have a fresh batch around 4,” Jackson said, mouth salivating at the thought of more food.

When you arrived at the restaurant, it was fancier than what you had expected, feeling underdressed among the rich elite of Hong Kong in your old dress that you wear for every special occasion.

You asked if there was a reservation under your name, since Yukhei said he had it booked under you, and almost immediately, since not that many people can afford places like these, the waiter led you in.

“Mama, what is this place? We've never ate here before,” your son asked you.

“It's a French cuisine restaurant, we’re meeting gogo here, remember him? Or were you too sick that day?” you said as you placed him on the baby chair you had requested for.

“Yeah, I remember,” your son said as he looks around in awe, registering the pretty chandeliers that look so sparkly.

When the waiter handed you a menu, someone had joined your table, his hoodie pulled up so no one would recognise him, pulling it down when he saw that there wasn't any other customers around.

“Sorry, am I late?” Yukhei asked with a sheepish smile, a hand lifting up to check the time.

“No, we’re just early, say hi to Yukhei gogo, love,” you directed the last part to your son, patting his little hand to get his attention, smiling immediately when he lands on the tall figure.

“Gogo, you're here,” your son said excitedly, making grabby hands at him, letting his father carry him with a large smile on his face.

“Hey, buddy, don't you look excited to see me?” Yukhei said before blowing raspberry at his neck, making the young boy giggle.

What you didn't expect was to see someone coming up behind Yukhei, a little bit shorter and smaller in built, but when he pulled his hoodie down, you instantly recognised who it was.

“Jackson Wang?” you asked, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you were hallucinating.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you, you look lovely tonight, and you must be little Wenghei, aren't you adorable, how about Jackson gogo take you out to buy toys, huh? I saw a big toy store just across the street, but only if your ma says yes of course,” Jackson said, giving you a side eye to Yukhei.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, it's not like the Jackson Wang is going to kidnap your son right?

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him with my life,” Jackson said as Yukhei passes his son over to him, leaving the restaurant with his hood up once more.

“Is there something you'd like to say?” you asked Yukhei after he had taken the seat across you his hands were shaking slightly as he holds up the menu.

“I... I still love you. And I know I must sound like a jerk to you, hell I’d go back in time just to hit myself for running away, I'm really sorry for that. What I did was inexcusable, my career just stabilised at that time, and I was under immense stress from SM, you have every right to be mad at me, but I want to be apart of your life again, apart of Wenghei’s life as well, if you could let me have this second chance, I'll do anything to make the both of you happy,” Yukhei said in one breath, reciting what he had practised over and over again with Jackson in the car.

“Yukhei, I,” you were lost for words, you thought you were saying goodbye once more, that Yukhei and you would always end up in goodbyes, but now here he is, saying he loves you.

“Yukhei, you can't just say you love me for the sake of our son, and neither would you need to take responsibility for him, I chose to have him, and as for love, we can never be together, you’re an international super star now, and you're living in Korea, I don't think I have the energy to be in a long distance relationship with you, that would take a toll on Wenghei too, how am I going to explain to him that his father is in another country? He’ll always question your love for him and I don't want that,” you said, trying to hold in the tears that had built up in your eyes, your throat closing up, the cold facade you built for yourself crumbling down before his eyes.

“You can move to Korea, both of you, we can be a family,” Yukhei pleaded, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, his eyes searching yours.

“We can’t, what if we break up? What if your so called love for me, is just something you feel as a result of our child? You can't uproot the two of us when there's so many uncertainties, especially our emotions,” you said, you don't want either of you to be stuck in a relationship for the sake of raising a child, no one would be happy in the end.

“Love, you don't understand, I've never had a serious relationship after you, I tried, I really did, but I’d always think of you instead, how badly I wanted you instead of someone who reminds me of you, the thing is, I’ve always loved you, and I think you still love me too, or you wouldn't have named our son after me, am I right?” Yukhei hoped, why else would you come up with that name right?

Damn it, you thought to yourself, he saw right through you, maybe you shouldn't have named your son after him.

You looked at him and looked away, darn those puppy eyes, you’re sure you’re crying now, and Yukhei reaching over to wipe away your tears just confirmed it.

“I love you, it's always been you, only you,” Yukhei confessed.

“I, I love you too, Yukhei, and I was never mad at you for running away from us, I know how tough that industry is, but what if your fans find out about us?” you asked, slightly worried that he might lose it like last time.

“Then so be it, true fans would stay,” he said in an affirmative tone, reassuring you.

“You promise?” you asked, holding out your pinky, it would’ve been a funny sight to see if anyone saw the two of you now, crying and smiling at the same time.

“I promise,” Yukhei said before hooking his own pinky to connect with yours.

“If you leave us, Wong Yukhei, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” you said as threatening as you could sound.

“I plan to see our son grow up, so I'll value my life,” Yukhei said in utmost sincerity before grabbing a napkin to wipe away all your tears, you’re glad that you didn't wear any mascara today.

Just when Yukhei wiped away the tears in his eyes, Jackson was back with your bubbly child, his arm had bags digging into his flesh.

“Oh my god, that's too much, Wenghei why did you get so many, this is Jackson gogo’s hard earned money,” you said, lecturing your son.

“It's okay, he's an angel, this was all on me, and I guess things went well?” Jackson asked, eyes darting to your connected hands.

“Yeah,” you said, the biggest smile you had on your face.

“That's great to hear, I always wanted to be an uncle, now if you’ll excuse me, I don't think I should crash this family reunion any longer,” Jackson said giving his best friend a hug before leaving.

“So... What do you like to eat Wenghei? How about we get crème brulé,” Yukhei asked, pointing at the menu with childlike eyes, reminding you of the days where he’d get ice cream with you, splitting it on half for you to share.

“Sounds delicious.”

You let Yukhei order everything, sharing between the three of you while the three of you talked, Yukhei mostly directed the questions at his child, asking about his interests, his favourites of everything, ranging from colour to ice cream, eager to make up for loss time.

“How about we talk about where you'll be staying?” Yukhei asked after ordering dessert.

“Oh, I don't know what I'll be able to afford, I'll probably get another convenience store job again, so the rent can't be too high,” you said, dreading the thought of needing to learn a new language quickly for a job.

“Hey, you don't need to work anymore, nor pay rent, I already looked it up, there's an empty unit in our condo, the soundproofing might be a bit lacking, but that wouldn't be a problem if you don't sing in the shower like Dejun, we had a few noise complaints because of him,” Yukhei said, laughing at the fond times he had at the dorms.

“Yukhei, I know housing is really expensive there, are you sure you want to do this?” you asked once more, you don't want him to resent the financial burden the two of you would add onto him.

“What did I say to you just now? I said what I meant, I want the two of you to be in my life, forever. And don't worry about money, I saved up plenty and there’s many more jobs coming up for me, and moving out of the dorms would be the next step of adulthood to me, and we’ll get to spend so much more time together, right Wenghei?” Yukhei asked, pinching your son’s chubby cheeks teasingly.

“We’ll be living together, Yukhei gogo?” your son asked, a confused expression on his face, he had his attention trained on some pink fong video, something about dinosaurs.

“Yeah, Wenghei, we’ll be moving out of our little room, are you excited? We're going to a new country. Remember the dramas I watched with you? Korea has that big outdoor theme park you said you always wanted to go, and snow, you'll get to make snowmen during the winter,” you persuaded, hoping he won’t fuss too much about the move.

“Really? There’s snow in Korea?” your son asked, excited about the winter scene he’ll get finally see in real life.

“Yeah, real snow, not the bubbles in Disney land, are you excited?”

“Yeah, is Jackson gogo going to stay with us too?” your son asked, eyes darting to his new goodies before looking at you expectantly.

“Well, Jackson gogo has his own house and we have ours, but we can always visit him,” Yukhei explained.

“Hehe, okay,” your son said before getting distracted by the crème brulé set in front of him, digging in immediately.

“When do you want us to make the move?” you asked, thinking of all the things you have to pack, which isn't a lot, but you might have to courier some of your clothes over first.

“Whenever you want, I'll get our home ready as soon as possible, is there anything you need in the house? Other than the basics of course,” Yukhei asked, uncertain of any needs you have as a woman or maybe for your son.

“Can we have a study room for Wenghei? With a desk and shelves? We love to read, and he'll need a proper desk when he's older,” you asked, hoping it wasn't too much.

“Yeah, sure, I'll be sure to get it done,” Yukhei said, noting it down into his phone.

“But it's no rush on the study room part, he's just three after all, before I go, I have to apply visas for both of us,” you said, dreading the thought of filling up paperwork, you haven't done much of that ever since you left the law firm.

“Call me if you need any help on that, I'm sure my manager knows how to,” Yukhei said.

“You’re going to tell your company about us?” you asked, knowing how strict Korean entertainment companies are.

“They can't let me go just because of having my own family, they didn't let Jongdae, my senior, go, so we’ll be fine, I promise,” Yukhei said, reaching a hand over to hold yours reassuringly, his eyes looking into yours, filled with love and adoration.

“Okay, now how about we walk around the complex until 10? Wenghei doesn't have school tomorrow,” you suggested.

“Yeah, sure, we could even stay out later if you want,” Yukhei said enthusiastically, getting up slightly to call for the bill.

“You have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you reminded him in your motherly voice, which you regretted almost instantly, cursing yourself, reminding yourself to act more like an actual 22 year old, but Yukhei didn't say anything about it, hiding his smile by nodding deeply, almost like a bow.

“Okay, I just wanted to spend more time with the two of you,” Yukhei said, stopping when he saw the waiter coming back with the credit card machine, paying with just a glance at the bill.

The three of you spent your remaining time shopping and at the arcade, playing games with your son, Yukhei had insisted on getting you a new pair of sneakers, but you shot him down when he wanted to buy more stuff, especially toys for Wenghei.

“You can buy him toys when we’re there, it'll cost even more to ship more stuff over, and there's a risk of damaging the toys as well,” you said.

But of course your son threw a fit at the shop, all for some legos.

“Hey, buddy, I'll buy you lots the next time I see you, okay? I'll buy you one that's even bigger than this,” Yukhei said, squatting down next to his son, and even then he wasn't eye level with him, sometimes you forget how tall Yukhei actually is until you see a scene like this, or when you stand really close to him.

When it was 10pm, painful goodbyes were exchanged with a promise of face timing everyday, your son cried, and held onto his father dearly, and you haven't even told him Yukhei was his dad, but their bond is evident.

Yukhei held onto you and your son until his taxi came, and you waved until you couldn't see the taillights.

It's been a month since that fateful reunion, and Yukhei has squeezed in face times, calls, and texts in between schedules, giving you and your son time despite his busy career.

His company wasn’t too happy about it of course, but was somewhat glad that you weren't one to babble your business to gossip outlets.

You're now packing your things, one last time, you've been to the post office multiple times before to courier out your stuff to Korea, and every time a box reached his address, Yukhei would take a photo of it, telling you the stuff arrived safely.

Progress on your new home was quick, since it was already a fully furnished unit, Yukhei only needed to buy some furniture and things that cater to your son’s needs, he even picked out a pre school that teaches mandarin, perfect for your son’s adjustment in such a foreign country.

Tomorrow you'd be flying to Korea, a new country, a new start, but there was something clouding your mind, something you've been dreading, but today is the day you’ll tell him.

“Wenghei, can you come to mama for a second?” you asked, soon hearing your son’s tiny footsteps nearing you.

“Yes, mama?” your son asked, a hand around his precious teddy.

“There's something I need to tell you,” you said holding him close to you, letting him sit onto your lap.

“Remember how you asked me why you didn't have a baba while all your other classmates did?” you asked, trying to word it as nicely as possible.

“You said my baba had a really big responsibility, that he couldn't see us because of it, that he'll come back when he's free,” your son answered you, struggling to remember more details.

“Yes, good job, Wenghei, your memorising skills are getting better. Well, your baba is actually Yukhei gogo, he’s back now, and we can finally be a family again,” you said before holding in a breath, not knowing how he’ll react.

“Baba is Yukhei gogo? That's why we’re going to Korea?” your son asked, confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, do you like that he's your baba?” you asked, this could be the most important question ever.

“Yeah, mama, do you love baba? Does baba love you as much as I do?” your son asked, which very much surprised you, but expecting this sort of maturity from him.

“Yes, we love each other, and both of us love you as much too,” you said with a pinch of his chubby cheeks.

“Do we ever have to be separated from baba again?” your son asked, scared of losing his newfound father.

“No, never again, and can you do me one favour, Wenghei? I think the next time when you see your baba, you should run up to him and say hi baba, he’ll be very happy to hear you call him that,” you suggested, imagining the look on Yukhei’s face.

Your son giggled at the thought of making his father happy, agreeing immediately.

“Okay, now go to sleep, it's going to be your first time flying tomorrow,” you said, ushering him onto the bed.

“Okay, goodnight, mama,” your son said to you, just like he did every other night, he seemed to have accepted it very easily, maybe it was due to his age, but some day he might ask his father about his departure personally when he understands more, but that’s a hardship that’s reserved for another day.

The flight was relatively short, though it was rather hard for Wenghei at the start because of the pressure he had experienced in his ears, the crying and whining got you plenty of dirty looks from passengers around you, but you paid no mind to it, you’ve been through worst so this is nothing that can faze you.

When you got there, you saw a lady holding up a plaque with your name on it, her phone in her hand, checking all the moms who came out of the same lane as you.

She had a friendly smile on her face when she saw you, introducing herself in mandarin, being one of Wayv’s staff, a trusted one, according to Yukhei.

She talked to you about Yukhei in general, even giving your son a bar of mini KitKat, praising him for being brave on the flight after she had asked you how was your flight.

Around half an hour later, you've reached your new home, a nice looking condominium that looked about a few years old.

Unloading took quite some time, even with the help of the staff, but what surprised you was the person who was waiting for you inside the lobby.

“You're here!” you said surprised at the sight of the giant.

“Yeah, I am, wanted to give you a surprise, sorry I couldn't be outside, some crazy fans camp outside, can’t let them bring you and Wenghei any harm,” Yukhei said as he carried Wenghei, spinning in a small circle, looking at him with full of love.

“I understand, don't worry, I'm not a teenager girl anymore,” you said as you checked out the place, the sitting area had a couch set and free WiFi, this is a 180 from the living conditions in Hong Kong.

“Baba, did you miss me?” your son asked when he had stopped giggling from his father’s spins, which instantly ceased to a halt, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

“What did you call me? Say it again,” Yukhei said with the biggest smile on his face, all of his teeth were showing.

“Mama said you were my Baba,” Wenghei said like it was as simple as two plus two.

“Yeah... I am your baba, and you're my son,” Yukhei said before holding his son even closer, you could even see the tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Why don't we go see our new home Wenghei?” you suggested, seeing that some people have came out from the lifts, typical going to work hours.

You walked a feet away from Yukhei, not wanting to draw attention, holding onto the lift for Yukhei to bring all your luggage in.

Once you were at your level, you started loosening up, noticing that no one was around.

“This is my members’ unit,” Yukhei said pointing at a door, “And this is ours,” Yukhei said before opening the door for you, welcoming you into a warmly decorated home, every piece of furniture was placed and chose to accommodate your child, all the corners were covered with this e rubber safety stickers.

He showed you into Wenghei's room where the bed had all his favourite characters in the form of a plushie, his bed was soft when you sat down on it, and the blanket he had picked out was a soft fleece material, perfect for the cold weather.

Your son was going around every corner, awing at everything his father had gotten him, especially the Lego sets that were on his desk.

“Thank you, it's beautiful, his room,” you said when Yukhei wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, god how much you've missed his warmth.

“Go take a look at your room,” Yukhei said before pulling your hand into the direction of the master bedroom, welcoming you into a room with a king size bed and silk linen sheets, an aesthetic looking vanity that you've always wanted as a teenager, now as well of course, and a little reading corner just for you by the window.

“It's all I've ever wanted,” you said in disbelief, not knowing how could Yukhei pull this off in such a short time.

“You like it? I got some help from my members, especially Kun for the kitchen, you should check it out afterwards, you always wanted a big kitchen area,” Yukhei said as you laid on the bed, giving your stiff body a rest from the journey.

“Lay down with me for a while, I’m a bit tired from the flight,” you said, making grabby hands at him.

“Nah, I shouldn’t, this is your bed,” Yukhei said, looking flustered.

“Wong Yukhei, I’ve had your child and now you're acting all innocent?” you asked in an accusing tone, playing with him, which made him lay down next to you immediately, he didn't like getting you angry, thinking back all those days when you had lectured him just like that when he forgot to do his homework.

“You want me to sleep here?” Yukhei asked carefully, observing your expressions.

“This is our bedroom, where else do you want to sleep?” you asked, but was promptly cut off by Yukhei's lips on yours, smiling as he kissed you, gentle but expressing all his love for you, a hand lingering on your back, guiding you closer than him.

Many mistakes that had to be made had guided you here, but you've never regretted, for if it wasn't for the hardships and the crossroads, you wouldn't have found a home with the man you'll cross oceans for.

The end.

#lucas smut #lucas fluff #lucas wong #wong yukhei #wayv smut #wayv fluff #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #wayv #this is rather cliche sorry

225 notes · View notes

queenahnhyejin · 4 years ago

Text

The many reasons moomoos love Hwasa:

Hwasa is a wonderful, kind, graceful, loving, caring and soft person. She is always real - no frame, no fake. She is one of the most respected idols, but many kpop stans drag her til this day. It is not on anyone to persuade a person to trust or like someone. However, Hwasa is hands down one of the most humble and kind idols, so here is a relatively short list of reasons people love her:

1. First of all, she is a role model for many. She defies all expectations and beauty standards of an idol. She makes millions of girls feel more confident in their skin. She is a darker-skinned Asian, curvy, with mono lids and a face that does not fit the idol standard. She has been called fat and ugly her entire career. (For no valid reason) Yet she NEVER changed the way she looks, because she loves herself the way she is.

2. She regularly donates to charity and is part of many campaigns. She never posts about her donations, but many moos know that she has been very active over the years. Recently she partnered up with Tommy Jeans for "Together, we create". Refund Sisters donate all earnings of Don't Touch Me for a good cause. Mamamoo has made numerous donations for all kinds of causes and keep their fans involved and aware of many issues.

3. She is always for LGBTQ+ rights. From the very beginning of her career until now.

4. She is an artist. She writes, composes, produces and is involved in all of her solo work. She doesn't do the things she is told but the things she truly wants.

5. She never says anything bad about someone. In fact, she is a big softie and has a big heart. She really is there for her friends and colleagues, which is something they all said (Mamamoo members, Kei, Refund Sisters members, Park Narae, Han Hyejin, ILA cast...)

6. She talks honestly about her feelings and her music reflects she is a normal girl in her twenties that can get hurt and emotional like everyone else.

7. She is very proud and loving of her family. She never forgot where she comes from.

8. She is a relatable queen. She loves greasy food, sleep, movies, nature, messy buns, comfy clothes, she picks her nose and is lazy when she feels like it. And is totally not hiding it.

9. On the other hand, she is incredibly hard working. She never complains about the INSANE amounts of work she has. Only this year she had her solo comeback, was a part of ILA, Refund Sisters & Hangout with Yoo, filmed YeoEunPa, had a CB with Mamamoo, performed on music shows, award shows, variety shows, went on photo shoots, campaigns, fashion events etc. She injured her back and still performed. She was really unwell mentally but managed to out put an incredible album.

10. She is actually quite smart. She always uses word plays in her work and has a very good ear, so much so, that she can direct herself in the studio and use many foreign styles in her singing.

11. She shows affection wherever, whenever. To fans and friends.

12. She rocks her bare skin and free titties and frankly doesn't give a damn.

13. She is a fashion icon.

14. She made small businesses and venues famous and through her sell-out power helped them take off.

15. She is redefining makeup and fashion trends across SK. Some articles labeled it "the Hwasa generation".

...

These are only 15 reasons, but no doubt, there are countless reasons to love this amazing queen.

#mamamoo #hwasa #moomoo #ahn hyejin #kpop #마마무 화사 #화사 #2020 #queen #maria #reasons to love hwasa #our flower #our summer

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 3 years ago

Note

I did saw his posts on twt lately, i follow an account who retweets older posts. Seeing jimin's posts back then n now just makes me sad. What are your thoughts on his changing the use of social media? Do you think anything happened like did he saw the amount of hate he got so he stopped?

I think the whole hate discourse can get messy and it's way too much speculation, I mean more than I allow myself to get into lol so I'll just try not to talk about it right now. As well as there's other stuff that's not about hate but it's not nice either, but it's a lot of speculation too.

It's not even weird behavior for a celebrity; a lot of big celebrities don't post that much. In this case with Jimin it's just weird because things were different and because everyone else posts fairly regularly, and because nobody talks about him, so his absence is the huge pink elephant in the room. Him not posting as an isolated event is really not a big deal (even though it has been making me miserable), but it has turned into something weird and confusing and even disheartening because of the combination of everything I said.

Frankly, no one has to be a genius to understand social media and how our generation uses it. People usually post stuff to show things that they think are cool, to make others say that's so pretty that looks delicious that seems fun etc, and it is exactly what most of the members are using instagram for.

I saw this the day JK posted the dance cover, and yes. Absolutely. That's exactly what social media is about. The tweet they were replying to said something like "JK's feed right now, anyone should be afraid". (roughly paraphrasing here).

JK loves boxing and dancing and singing and his dog, he does; but he also likes it when people think he's cool. Not too long ago he said that's what he likes hearing the most or wants to hear the most. He geniunely loves doing all those things; just because it's in social media it doesn't mean it's fake or a lie. Social media just allows you to show those parts of yourself to millions of people. I actually said a couple of months ago that he posted those selfies with Taehyung because they looked cool and so far I haven't changed my mind.

The same can be said for Tae, Namjoon and Hobi for example, who are also the ones that use instagram the most. They all post about stuff that they love and that they want to show they're passionate about: music, art, fashion in Hobi's case. And again, just because it's on instagram it doesn't mean all those interests are fabricated or are just to build a celebrity persona. They literally used to post the exact same stuff on twitter or weverse, now they've just moved to instagram.

We all post for the same reasons and we're not celebrities. We also post the pictures that look nice and the food that looks delicious or the animals that look cute.

All of that goes in hand too with what a lot of people have been talking about the members building their own brand and stuff.

Having all that in mind... now to Jimin.

This is also something that I've mentioned before but Jimin's posts have always been so candid?? in a way. I don't think JM cares for that type of validation of wanting to show a "cool" side (unless it's on stage, and even on that he's kind of given up on looking cool a long time ago lmao) and if he ever did or still wants to have that kind of validation, he never seeked it out through social media posts. And like, it's perfectly fine by me if he doesn't want to build a brand or image via instagram posts.

It could also be that he thinks he doesn't have anything interesting enough to post. Instagram sort of requires a certain type of post that's deemed "instagram worthy" (Hoseok telling him to post certain photo/s he showed them). Still while having instagram, he went to weverse to post goofy pictures with the wig and doing the headstand.

Maybe he doesn't want to constantly post his face. Pretty much all of his posts have always been... just his face lmao. Or the members. Jimin's life seems to revolve around other people tbfh, and that's great. I seriously love that, it's one of my favorite things about him. He is a people person. He's definitely not gonna post photos of his family or friends, with whom he's said he usually goes out for drinks and food.

Then there's the possibility of him just simply growing out of social media. Of course I'm not saying he feels similar to me in any way but as an example; yesterday I got a google maps notification about my "stats" or something for January (literally the first time I ever opened a notification like that) and it was a summary of all the places I went to last month and it said I travelled 982 kilometers in January. I actually did travel quite a bit, but I haven't posted anything about the places I went to, even if I took a lot of pictures and even sent them to my family. Actually, my family posted the photos I sent them and I didn't. A few years ago I would've posted them myself but now I just don't care.

And finally, there's the most simple but still valid explanation: it's a deliberate choice and he is actually building a brand/image, which is the image of someone who doesn't post on social media. I saw this yesterday and it made me think of Jimin (the caption) https://www.instagram.com/p/CKg4Pfpngh8/

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Pamela Anderson 🌸 (@pamelaanderson)

instagram

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willsimpforanyone · 4 years ago

Text

HoO Seven when it rains heavily

it’s raining, i should be going to sleep, but i wanted to write today so y’all are getting this

who’s your favourite rick riordan character? let me know!

___________________

Percy Jackson

it would take SO MUCH EFFORT to keep this guy inside, and you wouldn’t even win

are you kidding me

rain is his element, he’d want to drag you outside the second it started

and it’s like heavy rain, big droplets

and suddenly you’re outside, with no shoes, and he’s spinning you round and laughing and everything is beautiful

you two end up getting soaked (rain is Zeus’s thing)

his hair is plastered to his head, clothes sticking to him and you’ve never seen him so relaxed

he’ll make you dance in the rain, pulling you close with hands on you waist

and when you finally get him back inside and changed into fresh clean dry clothes

it’s disney time babayyyyy

Annabeth Chase

windows are 100% open, with the smell of the rain filling the whole apartment

annabeth is productive a lot of the time, but rain really fuels her desire to create

so be prepared for the most ingenious blanket fort you’ve ever made

entirely made from pillows, blankets and string

maybe a chair

who knows, she’s a genius

it’s your turn to get the popcorn for whatever board game she’s gonna drag you into

buttery and salty (personal preference, sweet popcorn is gross and i will fight you on this) and hot and it’s piled into a huge bowl

hours are spent playfully arguing over the game, making up new rules and inevitably annabeth winning because she’s the only one who could remember all the new rules

Jason Grace

if you think you’re getting out of bed, you are sorely mistaken

he will whine if you even so much as suggest getting up or getting dressed

idk why but i feel like really heavy rain makes him sleepy

the only way you’re getting him up and out of bed is for food

if you’re okay with making it by yourself, he’s gonna sit on the counter half asleep

but if you ask him to do something, he’s gonna do it immediately, no complaints

there is a high likelihood he’s gonna come up behind you, wrap his arms gently round your waist and nuzzle his head into your neck

and you bet your ass he’s gonna get you back to bed the second whatever you’ve been making is finished

Piper McLean

honestly rainy days indoor is just an excuse to not leave the house and put zero effort into what she is wearing

she’ll wake up with hair messy af and maybe drag a brush through it, splash some water on her face and come meet you in the living room where you have a hot drink and kids cartoons on the tv

it still amazes you how she’s still unbelievably gorgeous despite also looking like a rat dragged backwards through a hedge

you know she’s gonna play with your hair, still half asleep, and shower compliments on you regardless of what you look like

i feel like she has some cat qualities, so be prepared for her head to somehow end up on your lap after she’s gently pushed away whatever you have in your hands

it will have been hours and you two have spent the whole time talking in low voices, preserving the quiet that the rain brings with it

Frank Zhang

breakfast in bed breakfast in bed breakfast in bed

he’ll try so hard not to wake you

he’s gonna coax you out the bed and make you have a shower while he opens the windows

which is actually a sneaky move to make you a lil cold when you come out the shower so you’ll have no choice but to go find him and cuddle him to get warm

you are aware of this plan, but it makes both of you happy so you don’t mention it

his voice is soothing, especially when it’s accompanied by the rain pattering softly on the windows

so you ask him to read to you

any of the book he’s been reading recently, it doesn’t really matter which, you just wanna hear him

he’s very happy to oblige

Hazel Levesque

i feel like Hazel loves the rain

she can and will stick her head out the window, getting her head soaked

you can also take this time when activity is limited to catch her up to speed on modern films, kitchen appliances and things

y’all have a lil balcony and when you decide to play hide and seek, you find her super easily because she got distracted by the rain on the balcony, so she’s just standing there

her head is back, her eyes are closed, and she looks so serene

you have to take a picture before you go and join her

she gives you such a big smile and your heart melts

she’ll stay out there as long as possible

you gotta seriously bribe her to come back inside

eventually you agree that she can stay there as long as she wants as long as you get to take more photos

you end up with a series of the most stunning photos and a very happy hazel

Leo Valdez

not a massive fan of the rain for obvious reasons

however, will indulge you if you wanna open the windows

or even go outside in the rain if you really want to

he will prefer to stay inside though

you can take this opportunity to act like you’re really cold because of the rain, so you gotta snuggle him for warmth

he’ll roll his eyes but will bring you as close as possible to him

pls ask him to cook you something from his culture

pls it will make him so happy

his eyes are gonna light up and you can bet anything that he’s gonna pick you up to take you to the kitchen and pop you on the counter

running commentary through everything he does, will also feed you spoonfuls of whatever he’s making just to see if you like it

validate him plz thnx

#pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #piper mclean #frank zhang #hazel levesque #leo valdez #imagine #imagines #preference #preferences #posted this on the wrong blog #whoops

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thatonerandomfan4 · 3 years ago

Text

Madness Combat: Just Bros Being Dudes

AO3 Link:

(Hhh This Took A Long Ass While Lmao)

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Fandom: Madness Combat

Characters: Deimos, Sanford, Hank (Briefly), Jebus (Briefly), Tricky (Briefly)

Platonic Or Romantic?: Romantic Sanmos

Summary: Just A Normal Saturday In Nevada For The Boyfriends, Sanford And Deimos. They Also Share Their First Kiss With The Help Of Hank And Tricky Thanks To A Text Message. Also Deimos Makes A Lot Of Jokes, If You Know Them Then Congrats. :) If Not, That's Ok.

--------------------------------------

The Sound Of The Alarm Clock Went Off At 8:00 AM, Causing Deimos To Wake Up From His Slumber. He Sat Up From The Sleeping Position He Was In And Yawned While Stretching Before Hitting The Snooze Button And Rubbing His Eyes. Looking Over To His Side, He Noticed Sanford Was Absent From His Side Of The Bed. It Was Cold, So He Had Been Probably Gone For A While Now. It Was Done Nicely Compared To The Smaller Man's Side Of The Bed, Which Was Very Messy.

Deimos Knew San Liked To Wake Up An Hour Or Two Earlier Than Him All The Time. He Did That Even If They Weren’t Being Bothered By The L33t / A.A.H.W (Agency Against Hank Wimbleton) Groups Anymore. Deimos Slipped On The Closest Pair Of Slippers He Had By The Bed And Headed Toward The Kitchen. There He Heard Pans Being Set Down On The Stove Or In The Sink To Be Washed Later And Bacon Sizzling In A Pan.

Sanford Was At The Stove Making Breakfast While Whistling One Of Their Favorite Songs. That Favorite Song Happened To Be Poker Face By Lady Gaga, Deimos Would Always Sing And Dance Happily To It While Sanford Watched And Laughed During Their Breaks In Between Missions. Deimos Instantly Smiled At The Sight Of His Boyfriend Being In A Good Mood On A Morning. Everyone Knew Sanford Wasn't Much Of A Morning Person, He Was Only Cheerful When He Knew He Was Going To Have A Good Day.

It Always Was Fun Going On Missions Together And Then Getting To Relax With Each Other Afterwards. They Loved To Chat And Goof Off With Each Other All The Time. The Smaller Man Quietly Shuffled Into The Kitchen Being Careful Not To Distract The Man Cooking And Sat Down In A Chair. Ford Smiled And Flipped The Pancakes In The Pan. San Turned Around To See His Beloved Boyfriend Sitting At The Table.

Sanford, Smug: “Enjoying The View, Dee?’

Deimos, Jumping In Surprise And Hiding His Face In Embarrassment: “U-Uh What? Yeah, I Like Roses. I Mean What-”

Sanford, Giggling A Bit: “What? Anyway, How Many Pancakes Do You Want?”

Deimos: “Ooo, Can I Have 4?”

Sanford Nods And Turns Around, Walking Back To The Stove To Continue Their Breakfast. Deimos Watched His Boyfriend With Love In His Eyes. Dee Loved Watching His Boyfriend Do Anything; He Even Has A Whole Photo Album Full Of...Just Sanford In Battle Poses, Laying Down, Sitting, Ect..

Sanford Knew About Deimos’s Pictures. He Didn’t Really Mind, It Was Just When They Got Posted Online And Girls Were Coming To The Posts and Simping For The Man In The Bandana. Cut Back To Deimos Looking At Sanford With Love In His Eyes, Dee’s Tablet Vibrated On The Table.

Deimos Quickly Picked It Up, And Saw It Was From Hank. His Panic Died Down A Bit, And He Just Stared At The Notification. Like Sanford, Hank Liked Getting Up Early So He Can Get Things Done. One Of Those Things Would Be Making Sure Tricky Wasn’t Eating All The Food In The Fridge. Tricky Normally Has To Be Fed At Least 8 Times A Day To Ease His Chaotic Nature For A Few Minutes At Most. Then Jebus Has To Look After Him For Safety Reasons.

--------------------------------------------------

Hank: Deimos. Are You Up?

Hank: Deimos? It's 7:04 AM.

Hank: ?

Hank: Deimos??

Hank: Oh Yeah. I Forgot You Like To Sleep In

Hank: You're Probably Going To Wake Up At 8:30 AM, As Always.

Hank: Anyway, I Just Wanted To Say Tricky Misses You Guys. He Keeps Talking About You And He’s Wondering If You 2 Can Come Play With Him Later Today Or Tomorrow.

Hank: He's Happy You Two Are A Couple Now. He Bought A Gift For You Too.

Hank: Well….He Stole It, Then I Had To Pay For The Damage….AND The Gift

Hank: Also, Quick Question….Have You 2 Even Kissed Yet?

--------------------------------------------------

There Was Silence For A Good 3 Seconds Until Deimos Screamed, Startling Sanford. The Tablet Fell On The Table Before Ford Could Even Reach His Boyfriend. The Man In The Bandana Hugged His Boyfriend To Calm Him. Ford Thought It Was Some Fangirl Who Messaged Him And Sent Something Gross As That Happened Very Often. He Took The Tablet To See For Himself, And Snorted When He Saw The Message. He Looked At Deimos Desperately Trying Not To Laugh At What He Saw.

Sanford: “You-” *He Quietly Giggles, Trying Not To Embarrass Deimos On Purpose* “You’re Screaming Because We Haven’t Kissed Yet?”

Deimos: “Well- I- Yo- We- He-”

He Was Immediately Silenced By His Boyfriend’s Lips Making Contact With His. They Stayed Like That For A Few Minutes Before Sanford Pulled Back And Got Back To The Stove. Deimos Just Sat There In Shock, His Face All Hot And Red. That Was Their First Ever Kiss, And Deimos Wanted To Be Involved Too. Just Thinking About It Made Him More Flustered. He Must've Been Spaced Out For A While Because When He Looked Up, Sanford Wasn't There. He Checked His Tablet Again And Saw A Notification: A Text From Hank.

--------------------------------------------------

Hank: Lol. Sanford Told Me You Screamed When I Asked.

Hank: That Probably Was Really Funny In Person

Hank: If Only He Recorded It.

Hank: *[One Attachment Sent]*

{Hank: He Didn’t Answer My Question. Did You Guys Kiss Yet Orrr?

Sanford: Well Yes And No. You Embarrassed Him Lol. It Was So Funny Haha

Sanford: He Screamed When He Saw Your Message, Then I Kissed Him.

Hank: Pfft- Are You Serious?! Wow Lol

Sanford: Yeah Lmao. Made Me Throw A Pancake At The Ceiling. It Was Mine Too :(

Sanford: Good Wasted Pancake :(

Sanford: *[One Attachment Sent]* {Image Description: A Gray Tiled Ceiling With A Medium-Sized Pancake Smacked In Between 4 Tiles.}

Hank: XD}

Deimos: I-

Deimos: YOU!! >:( THAT WAS YOUR FAULT HANK J. WIMBLETON!!

Deimos: YOU MADE HIM WASTE HIS PANCAKE. THAT WAS YOU!!

Deimos: YOU FUDGING BULLY >:(

Deimos: I'LL HECKING FIGHT YOU!!

Hank: XD

Hank: Yeah Right Lol. I'll See You Later

--------------------------------------------------

A Couple Minutes Pass And Sanford Taps Deimos On The Shoulder. Dee Turns Around To See His Boyfriend Fully Dressed. A Pile Of Clothes Was Placed In The Seat Next To The Shorter Man. Deimos Could Only Assume It Was His Clothing, As Hank Did Invite Them Over To See Tricky. The Smoker Popped A Cigarette In His Mouth And Left To Get Dressed. Once He Got Back, He Put His Cigarette In The Ashtray And Got Sanford Greeted With A Kiss. Well 2, One On The Forehead And One On The Mouth.

Deimos: “You Know, You Could’ve Waited Till I Was Ready For The Kiss.”

Sanford: “Why? It Would’ve Been A Year Or Two If You Said You Were Ready. That’s Basically How Our Relationship Started. Everyone Knows That, Ev-EVEN TRICKY KNOWS!”

Deimos’s Face Just Heated Up, He Knew That Was True And Couldn't Argue. After That Chat, Sanford And Deimos Got In Their Car And Headed To The Base. Deimos Was Messaging Hank During The Entire Ride. Hank Was Teasing Deimos A Lot About The Kiss, And How Deimos Reacted When It Was First Brought Up. Deimos Yelled-Texted At Hank Again, Causing The Man In The Red Goggles To Laugh Again. Dee Put His Tablet Away Once They Got To The Base. Of Course, None Other Than Hank Himself Was There To Greet Them And Welcome Them Back In.

They Passed The Savior, Jebus, Who Was Reading A Book, Supposedly A Bible Or Something He Could Find Lying Around. He Was Sitting At A Table With Red Wine In A Fancy Glass And Biscuits On A Plate. Deimos Wondered If Hank Told Him About It, Since He Received A Teasing Look. Sanford Just Thought Nothing Of It, And Wanted To See If Tricky Had Actually Changed Since Their Last Encounter With Him.

Once They Approached Tricky's Room, Or Area (Whatever You Would Call It), They Saw Signs Like 'Caution: Beware The Clown', And 'Do Not Enter Unless You Are Hank'. They Were Also Greeted By The Sound Of Someone Eating Something Viciously.

Looking From The Glass Window On The Wall, They Saw The Clown Filling His Face With All Different Kinds Of Food. He Stopped To Grab A Drink, But Got Distracted By Seeing Hank With Sanford And Deimos. Tricky Immediately Ran To The Glass And Smacked His Face Against It, Causing Ford And Dee To Jump Back.

Tricky Smiled In Delight After Seeing Deimos And Sanford For The First Time In A Long While. He Waved Through The Glass, Then Rushed To The Speaker. The Faint Sound Of Someone Yelling 'HAAANNK!' And 'VALID. FRIENDS' Could Be Heard Through The Speaker. The Door Suddenly Opened Slowly, The Smell Of All Kinds Of Foods Plus Blood Pouring Out Of The Opening And The Cracks. The Clown Immediately Jumped Out Of The Room, Startling The Trio.

Tricky: "SANFORD! HANK! DEIMOS! FRIENDS! VALID. YES."

Hank Actually Smiled Upon Tricky's Entrance, He Patted The Clown's Head Twice And Let The Other 2 Do The Same Thing After. They Talked About Everything That Happened, And Caught Up With Each Other. Jebus Entered The Room Half Way Through The Conversation And Joined In. They Chatted For Hours, Tricky Was The One To Point Out The Time To Everyone. Sanford Said That He And Deimos Had To Leave, As It Was Late (11:12 PM).

They Said Their Goodbyes Before Ford And Dee Headed Out. They Stayed Silent In The Car, Just Thinking About How Much The Others Have Changed. Tricky, Who Has Become More Friendly And Takes Baths. Hank, Who Is More Calm And 'Married To A Blender'. And Jebus, Who Has More Control And Is Starting To Learn Dad Jokes.

Deimos: "I Had Fun Chatting With Them After A While. I Just Wish Candice Was There With Us, I Miss Her."

Sanford: "...We Didn't Know A Candice."

Deimos, Grinning: "I Know Candice. I've Known Her For A While Now."

Sanford, Not Falling For It: "Good For You. Is She Nice?"

Deimos: "....Y-Yeah…...Although Her House Really Smells Like Updog. It's A Problem."

Sanford: "......Really?"

Deimos, Pushing The Joke: "Yes, Especially The Kitchen. It Really Reeks Of Updog. It's Disgusting, Bleck"

Sanford, Sighing And Smiling: "What Is Updog?"

Deimos, Giggling Like A Child: "Nahat Much Wh-"

Deimos Couldn't Finish His Sentence Because He Was Laughing. Sanford Just Snorted And Smiled, He Always Knew How He Could Get His Boyfriend Lost In Laughter. Even If A Joke Wasn't Really That Funny, Deimos Could Be Laughing For An Hour. He Absolutely Loves Jokes Of All Kinds And It Doesn't Matter Who Tells Them. By The Time They Arrived Home, Deimos Was Still Slightly Giggling And Wiping A Tear From His Eye.

Sanford Carried Deimos Into The House, As The Man In The Visor Finished His Giggling Fit. Ford Set His Boyfriend Onto The Couch And Started Getting Ready For Bed. He Left Dee Some Comfy Clothes To Slip Into For Bed. About A Couple Minutes Later They Both Were On The Couch In Pajamas (Or Just Clothes They Never Wear To Work).

Deimos: "Why Weren’t You Laughing At The Joke, Sanford?"

Sanford: "The Joke Wasn't That Funny, Deimos. You've Heard It Over One Hundred Times Already."

Deimos, Giggling Again: "But..It's Funny."

Sanford, Trying Not To Smile: "It-It's Really Not."

Deimos, Now Full On Laughing: "I- It Was Funny When Hank Fell For The Candice Joke." *He Smacked His Side While He Laughed* "It Hurt Like Hell, But It Was Worth It!"

Sanford, Smiling But Trying Hard Not To Laugh: "Oh Right I Forgot About That."

Sanford Then Let Deimos Cuddle Against Him As He Laughed Again. He Only Laughed Harder When Sanford Yelled, 'It's Not That Funny!'. Eventually, Ford Was Laughing As Well With His Boyfriend. They Laughed Until They Eventually Fell Asleep. Today Was A Good Day For Both Of Them, And They Were Happy They Could Spend It Together, Like Old Times.

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heyheshi · 4 years ago

Text

Chipped Tooth

2.2k words

written and uploaded: September 3, 2020

🦋 - fluff

Please like and reblog! Also please don’t post my writings anywhere!

Aren’t these kittens just look adorable! The first cat is Cuddles and the second one is Snuggles! Kinda inspired by the new photo of Harry on a football field.

Masterlist

_________

"Cuddles! Come back here!", you yelled as you run after your 2 month old kitten who's running away from you towards the living room.

You sat down beside her after seeing her on the couch, petting her head making her purr at you, you smiled, "where is Snuggles, huh? Where is he?", you asked your cat as if she was a real person.

Cuddles only 'meows' at you and jumped off the couch and ran off somewhere in the house, leaving you alone in total silence, you sigh.

You started cleaning the living room, picking up multiple cat toys on the carpet and vacuuming it, as well as the couch to at least get rid of the cat furs.

You love your cats, they're just really messy and they needs a lot of time and affection most of the time which is a bit tiring but also a great practice to when you start having your own real babies even though it's not nearly the same.

Harry gifted you Cuddles when she was just a month old for your birthday almost a month ago adding to your small family - together with Snuggles - who is now 3 months old.

Cuddles looks like a toy with its white and gray fur and deep blue eyes. She's a Persian cat, really really tiny and quiet and often chooses to lounge on your bed or couch but she loves being cuddled - hence her name and loves to run away from you and Harry so you can give her some loving. What a brainy little teacup kitten.

While Snuggles is the exact opposite, a Munchkin cat who's very active. He also looks like a toy, he also got white furs but with a touch of brown. As much as he's active, he also loves to sleep but only when he's snuggled to Harry's side - you're not his favorite but you can live with that since he gets along with Cuddles really well - both intelligent cats.

Speaking of your fiancé Harry, you look at the wall clock and realized that he will come back home in an hour giving you enough time to prepare some snacks and clean your bedroom.

You were about to climb upstairs when you lost your balance after seeing Snuggles laying on the first staircase sleeping - you almost crushed him! Thank God you saw him just in time but you fall pretty bad. Both of your feet feels alright but your mouth feels numb, your right palm is on the third step helping you get up.

Snuggles is still sleeping peacefully, you picked him up to bring him upstairs with you - oh and you almost forgot to mention that he sleeps like a human, with his back on the surface he’s laying on! - but you saw something on the stairs. It looks like a broken bead, you look closely to pick it up, not wanting the cats to eat it but it wasn't a bead, it looks like a chipped tooth...

You run your tongue across your lower teeth, then your upper teeth until you felt something crooked making your eyes grow wide in panick.

Grasping "your" chipped tooth with your left hand and Snuggles in your right arm, you stomped upstairs to the master's bathroom after laying down Snuggles on the bean bag near your study table.

You opened all the lights and prayed to God that it's wasn't your tooth - that what you felt wasn't it but as you smiled with your full teeth on the mirror, there's a dent.

On your Central Incisor, you can see the chip and it looks awful in your opinion. You’re not teeth obsessed but you also know that this doesn't look good at all! The chip was in the front!

You racked your head with the possible outcomes and what you can do with it for the mean time. Harry will be home in a few and you gotta think quick.

Then you saw the box of disposable masks on your dresser, took one and wore it. 'It'll work for now', you thought and went downstairs to make some sandwiches for when Harry arrives.

Approximately an hour later, a very sweaty Harry came into the living room, "hey love! Why are you wearing a mask? Did you went out?"

You shake you head, "no, I didn't. Supposed to but I got lazy.", lie.

"Oh alright. Gimme a kiss Y/N!", Harry slowly went to you on the couch but you dodged his arms giggling uncomfortably.

"Later!", you winked at him to hide your nervousness as you stood up, walking towards the kitchen, "I prepared us some snacks."

Harry whined like a little boy as he pouted, "fine! Be like that! But I'm gonna go take a shower, I smell horrible anyway!", he said while walking backwards to keep your eye contact, "but you have to give me a kiss when I came back!"

You shooed him away and yelled "no promises" as you hear him scampered upstairs. You're not gonna lie, you're really embarrassed with what happened but you also know that Harry is not going to judge you but still!

You wait for Harry in the kitchen, not daring to remove your mask and eat the BLT sandwich you prepared even though your stomach is grumbling.

Harry arrived a few minutes later eyeing you down then looking at the meal in front of him, "I can't decide which one I wanna eat first...", he hummed teasing you.

"Oh shut up! Eat your sandwich.", you said as you pushed the plate towards him. Harry only clinked his tongue, strutting towards you, ignoring the food you made for him.

"Kissy!", Harry tried to remove your mask away but you only pushed him back, giggling, "eat your food first!", you said.

Harry crossed his arms on his chest and shake his head, "no."

You laughed at him, "what do you mean no?"

"Do I smell that bad? I already showered! Is that why you don't wanna kiss me?"

Now you feel bad seeing Harry feel down. You know it certainly isn't him but you don't think you can tell him that.

You stood up from your seat and went to him, hugging your fiancé tight, "I'm sorry Bubba...", slowly looking up at him seeing him already looking down at you but not hugging you back.

You only snuggled closer to his chest and squeezing him tight, "you smells good, as always, H.", you whispered not knowing if he can quite hear your with your mask.

"You don't know that!", he protested but pulled you closer to his chest.

"Oh I know..."

Harry kissed your temple while you rocked the both of you, "can you remove your mask now, pwetty pwease?", Harry requested in a childlike voice, "wanna kiss, haven't kissed you since this morning!"

"Don't want to!", you already know that he's pouting before and your reply will make him annoyed with you.

Harry pulled away and turned to the sandwich you made, taking a huge bite, "give me a valid reason."

"It's embarrassing!", you said, already feeling hot but collecting all your dignity to remove the mask.

Harry can sense that something is bothering you so he put his food down and looked at your eyes, "what's the matter love?", you only shrugged your shoulders at his question.

"Can I...?", Harry softly took your head in his hands and run his fingers through the mask making you softly nod your head.

You clasped your lips tight as Harry remove your mask. You know you're being dramatic but you're too clumsy and careless for your age!

"Why are your lips like that?", Harry thinks you're only teasing his so he laughed, pulling on your chin to get you to separate your lips.

"Mhfmfm mhdf!"

"Lovie I don't understand you!", he only laughs harder making you squint your eyes and look at him like you're a tiger ready to eat its prey.

Harry put both of his hands up in defense, "m sorry! I'm sorry!", as he laughs more, his giggles makes you wanna smile but you're annoyed at him.

You took both of your hands to cover your mouth as you speak the next few words, "I smifd mi fodth!", but it still come off as a muffled words.

Harry pulled both of his eyebrows down in a distressed and questioning manner, "you what?"

You removed one of your hand in hopes to speak more clearly this time, "I said I chipped my tooth."

Harry was about to laugh when he saw the serious look on your face, "wait! Really?!", the hot bastard looks excited!, "I wanna see! C'mon!"

"No!"

But Harry wasn't having it, he started to tickle you making you laugh and remove your hand away from your mouth.

'He can see it now Y/N!', you scolded yourself in your head.

"Oh now that's a really cute chipped tooth!", he grinned at you making you feel a bit better, "what happened baby?"

You saw a pen and paper for your grocery list, attempting to take it and just write what happened but Harry interrupted you, "nu uh! It's okay Y/N, it happens to us. I still love you and I think it looks cute. Now tell me what happened.", he playfully demanded.

You're still a bit wary of opening your mouth but fiance's order, "I was going upstairs to clean our room after finishing up the living room...", you started in a small voice to minimize the opening of your mouth.

Harry just looks at you supportingly as you continue narrating to him, "and I was about to take my first step when I saw Snuggles sleeping on the steps, I almost stomped on him but I saw him last-minute so I lost my balance and well this happened...", you looked down as you finished your story.

"Oh well that makes you a great mom! You didn't kill our baby!", Harry joked making you smile a bit, "so that's why our room is a bit messier and that's why Snuggles is on our room now.", he concluded.

You nodded twice, "pretty much. Is he still asleep?"

"Uh huh, and Cuddles was in the living room when I came back down.", Harry explained as he now hugged you from behind.

"I wanna get this fixed babes, you think we can go to the dentist tomorrow?", you looked up at him and he pecked the tip of your nose before answering.

"Of course, I'll make you an appointment but for now let's eat, I'm starving!", you agreed with Harry and took your plate as Harry took his and started descending to the living room.

You plopped down to the couch beside Harry, Cuddles on the center table playing with his stuffed candy toy.

"How was the game? Do you still got it?", you teased Harry, feeling more comfortable and confident now talking to him.

He looked at you and smirked, "are you really asking me if I'm still good at football? Baby I'm great at it!"

"Says who? Says you? The one that sprained his legs when he attempted to kick the ball?", you poked his arms laughing.

Harry swatted your finger away, "it was one time!"

You rolled your eyes at him, still laughing, "yeah sure!", you said and took your first bite on the sandwich, moaning on the taste making Harry smile.

"Oh what a narcissistic!", he sarcastically said.

"Well mister, I make banger sandwiches and we both know that this is what reeled you in when we started dating!", you looked at him accusingly.

Harry laughs, "okay! Okay you're right!"

"I know I am!", you smirked.

He looks at you fondly, "thank you for the sandwich and everything."

You smiled at him but playfully punched him in his right thigh, "oh don't be dramatic now Harry!"

He gasped, "I wasn't!", then looked at you mischievously, putting his arms around your neck and pulling you to him, "Snuggles!", you giggled but snuggled him.

Then the very awake Snuggles came rushing downstairs after hearing Harry's voice and tried to jump to his lap. He probably thought that Harry was calling him!

Harry looked at the Munchkin cat and picked him up, the kitten immediately snuggling on Harry's chest then you heard a 'meow' and you saw Cuddles looking at the three of you, eyes begging for her to get picked up and cuddled too, so you did.

The four of you in the livingroom just cuddling and snuggling each other making you forget about your chipped tooth and your sandwiches.

You looked up at Harry as he looks down at you at the same time, exchanging ‘I love you’s’. You finally kissed him without feeling any embarrassment making the both of you smile during it with your cats on each other's chest.

_____

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moos-cow · 3 years ago

Text

Gemini

Chapter 3

A/N: Wellllp, look who's back with the long overdue, chapter 3 hehehehehe

5:00 am. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The room was bathed in darkness when she woke up to the sound of her phone’s annoyingly loud alarm. Unfortunately, she left the device on the dresser across the room. Despite feeling the drag brought by jet lag, she mustered the energy to get up and turn it off, shaking off any of the drowsiness she had left along the way.

Unread notification: 1 file successfully downloaded

Right. It was still there-- the file sent by Max. She fumbled with her phone for a bit, a strange yet vague gut feeling calling to her.

“Oh, what the hell. Like it will change anything.” She scoffed and opened the file. She was stuck in another world, surely someone else would go and take this assignment in her place after a week or two.

Click. Click.

The Academy --Confidential-- Agent ID: Bellona Target ID: “Aldrich Winter” Last known whereabouts: Farringdon, London, England, -12 weeks Notes: Track and eliminate. --Image below--

"12 weeks? No wonder why this idiot sent me this." She murmured to herself. In her opinion, Max deserved the title of being the most annoying admin personnel in all of The Academy; volunteering on her behalf for the most absurd and difficult targets the Council had on their list, even if his intel saved her ass a couple of times.

Aside from the short text, the file came attached with a sole picture of a man. Being curious as always, she carefully studied the photo in the file-- Ocean blue eyes, neat blonde hair, and a large scar from his left cheek bone down to his jaw.

What on earth did you do that made the Council hate you so much?

Time seemed to pass by fast that morning as sunlight gradually filled the room. She closed the file and completely shut the phone down, sticking it back in the side pocket of her bag. By habit, she took a shower and changed into some clothes that seemed to fit in this world: a partially tucked v-neck, jacket, jeans, and sneakers.

With a packed wafer in hand, she tread for the door. A short knock was immediately followed by her opening of the door, Ray and Sirius stood there waiting.

“Ray, Sirius. Good morning.”

“You're up early.” The Queen greets nonchalantly. "feeling better, little lady?"

"Much much better. Please, come in." She gestured and led them inside the room, offering them a wafer each as they took a seat on the sofa. “I was just about to go and look for the two of you.”

“Lucky us then." Ray chimes as he studied the wafer in his hand.

"Everything is packed like that in the other- in the Land of Reason." She comments and tears open hers to demonstrate. "I assume that you don't have those here?"

"We don't." Ray deadpanned, placed the wafer down on the table and clasped his hands over his knees, signalling the change of topic. Sirius slipped a fountain pen and paper across the table-- a contract of sorts.

"So, Alice," Ray started again, "We had a discussion yesterday, and we’d like to propose a deal to you, one that will both help us survive in this world.”

“What kind?” She leaned on the dresser behind her, listening intently, but not batting an eye to the document.

“You see, your ability to nullify magic is just what we need.” The King continued, “so, if you promise to help us when we need you, we promise to keep you safe.”

Ah, and there it is-- the catch.

“Safe? I don’t know how to control this magic though,” she bluntly stated, remembering Kyle’s words from the night before. "I might just be a liability to you all."

Ray took a quick glance at Sirius. “We can work that out.” Sirius flashed her a satisfied grin.

Onyx pools looked into their eyes for a moment of thoughtful consideration. Accepting their proposition would seem… ideal, but it required trust. She’ll be bound to them for a whole month if she'd agree. Daily interactions with the soldiers will surely rouse them up, and the dreaded questions about her will come-- there will be no escaping that. She had to delay those as much as possible.

Distancing herself sounded impossible, and evading will only lead to more questions; at that moment, lying was her only option, even if it was never her strong suit.

The less they know, the better.

She took the pen and paper and scanned through the contents. Taking her time in marking out items that she thought needed revisions before she slid the document back to them.

"Forgive me, but I've never been in an army setting before. I’d rather be civil and be called by my real name, not Alice."

Sirius scanned over her legibly written notes on the document. A soft smile graced his lips, her points were valid, and all were taken. Besides, even they didn’t mind foregoing their titles when simply talking to their comrades.

"We can work with these." he spoke, handing the document to Ray, who later read and, to her surprise, signed at the bottom of the document.

“Just like that?" she spoke after munching on the last bite of her wafer.

“Just like that.” Ray stood up and raised his hand to salute her, “On behalf of the Black Army, Amaya, Freedom soars on raven wings. Welcome.” She mirrored him and saluted in return.

Sirius stood up and rested a hand on her head, lightly ruffling her hair in the process. “Welcome to the Black Army, little lady.”

Amaya walked them to the door, but paused just as her hand held the knob, muffled voices can be heard-- voices that belonged to Seth and Fenrir were right by the doorway, bickering over whether they should knock this early or not. With pursed lips and a light sigh, she opened the door. It was indeed them, clad in their complete uniforms.

“Ahh!” Seth immediately shrieked at the sight of the young lady. "Alice, sweetie! How are you?!"

"Mornin’, guys!" Fenrir quickly followed up, eyeing their superiors who were just behind her.

“Seth, Fenrir, good morning! I’m much better, thanks.” she says, taken aback by their extremely high energies so early in the morning. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything's perfect, sweetie!" Seth announced in his goody-good high tone.

"Since you were out cold yesterday, we decided to postpone your Official Black Army Headquarters Tour to today!"

"My what?" She asked, lost, obviously not picking up on anything they were saying.

"Sir Fenrir, Sir Seth! Ah, Sir Ray and Sir Sirius too! Good morning, sirs! I have a message from Sir Luka!" a soldier came running and stood in attention before them, "You have one hour, else, no dessert tonight!"

"One hour for what?"

Without batting an eye to anything she just asked, they exchanged huge grins and stepped to either side of her, each of them taking a hold of an arm.

"Well we wouldn't want to miss tonight's special dessert now, do we?!" Seth exclaimed, shaking and swaying the young lady's arm in the process.

"All aboard Amaya's Official Black Army Headquarters Tour!" Fenrir shouted through the hallways.

Their sheer excitement was overflowing, it was clearer than day that they hadn't heard a single word she'd said. Next thing she knew, they were racing down the hallways.

"She’ll be fine... right?" Ray grinned to the taller man beside him, whilst Sirius just sighed and closed the door behind them as they left the room.

Down the stairs and out the front door the trio went, running along the paved road that stretched out long between lawns lined with black flags that snapped with the chilly wind.

“Welcome to the Black Army Headquarters!” the two officers sang as they turned her around. "Your home until the next full moon!"

At the end of the paved road stood a huge black manor, completely different from how the Red Army Headquarters looked like.

From the gates, they headed to the training grounds and stables at the back of the building. Some soldiers who just finished their morning runs casually greeted them as they passed.

Inside, they took her through the common areas of every floor they could get their hands on, and scanned through the bedrooms on the second floor.

“So how many soldiers live here?” Amaya asked as they walked through the bedroom assignments.

“500.” Fenrir states, “But the only ones required to live here are the thirteen officers.”

“And the others?”

“They can stay as long as they keep their rooms clean and chip in with the chores, like--” Seth declares as he opens one bedroom door for a random inspection.

“AHH!” He squeals and slams the door shut before anyone else could get a look of what’s inside. His face lost all light and turned extremely grim.

“Seth, what’s wrong?” she asked while Fenrir laughed hysterically.

“Nothing, sweetie.” Seth turned around in a snap and with a huge pout on his face. “Let’s head back to the dining hall, shall we?”

Fenrir whispered in her ear, trying to suppress his laugh. “Looks like a messy room to me.”

The gentle scent of food wafted through the air as they made their way back to the dining hall.

“Oh wow, that smells good.” she took a deep death in, taking in all that goodness.

“If it’s Luka’s cooking, I’m sure it’ll taste even better!” Fenrir said as he opened the door to the dining hall, gesturing for her to step inside.

The aroma that blew past them was incredibly tantalizing. Dishes of all sorts, including some of her favorites, were lined up along the huge dining table-- from pancakes, salad, toast, eggs, bacon, fresh fruits, sausages, croissants-- it was mouthwatering, to say at the very least.

“Ah! Is that banana bread?” she asks, eyes immediately locked onto the loaves placed at the center of the table.

“Looks like our little chef had fun in the kitchen today.” Seth gushed, looking at the direction of Luka.

Taking Seth's hint, she called out to the army's chef, “Luka, this looks amazing!”

“Thanks.” Luka gruffly said, looking away with a faint smile on his face. “Eat. It’ll get cold.”

Seth pulled a seat and gestured for Amaya to sit between Luka and himself.

As they all began to eat, Ray called from the head of the table, raising a glass in cheers. “To the newest member of the Black Army.”

She raised her glass and just smiled back before downing the orange juice in it.

“Tell me, little lady. What sort of work did you do in the Land of Reason? Or are you still studying?” Sirius asked from across her.

“Both? I work in marketing and am taking my postgraduate studies at the moment.” she gleefully answered, pouring a ton load of syrup on her 3-storey pancake tower.

No sooner had she noticed that the table had fallen silent, eyes and ears were on her as the officers listened intently to the answers.

“And you’re, how old?” Fenrir asks through a mouthful of hash browns.

“Fenrir, you oaf! You don’t just go around asking ladies how old they are!” Seth outright scolded the younger lad, waving his fork around. “That’s downright disrespectful!”

“Oh wow. It’s fine, Seth! It’s fine!” she gushed, trying to suppress her bursting laughter “I’m turning 25.”

“When?” Luka promptly asked from beside her in his quiet tone.

“Soon. But not in the next 30 days.”

"You're not far off from these brats." Sirius spoke with all seriousness.

"Really?" She tried to bite back her sarcasm, but her tone made it all too obvious, earning a laugh from Sirius.

“So, any hobbies? Interests? Do you want to go shopping?” Seth bombards her with question after question.

Struck by the question, she set her fork down on the plate and leaned back on the chair, pouting unconsciously “Hmm. I’ve never really thought about that.” she took her cup to her lips, inhaling the earthy aroma of the coffee, “Coffee? I like good coffee. Travelling, maybe? I travel a lot for work. Cooking? Breakfast is magical, by the way.”

“Do you have any siblings, Alice?” another asked from the other end of the table, earning him some teasing remarks from the other soldiers. "Yeah maybe you can bring them here sometime!"

Goodness. Boys. Of all the things they could ask.

She drew a quick frown at the question before clearing her throat to answer, “I had two older sisters.” She stuck her fork through the sliced 3-tier pancake and shoved it into her mouth. Pissed. Though, it wasn’t because of the 3 of Spade’s audacity to ask that swashbuckling of a question, but rather, it reopened a deep wound.

“Was that bad?” Luka asked softly.

She slipped, eagerly shaking her head, “Oh- no, no.” she paused, carefully looking for the right words to say, “Family is… just something I'd rather not talk about.”

Thankfully, Luka didn’t press any further. But the weight of Sirius’ gaze on her was evident, one she just chose to ignore.

Breakfast with the officers wasn’t as uptight as how she thought it would be. They were bantering and teasing one another left and right like kids. This proved to be a rare sight for military men, their titles and ranks seemed to be left at the door.

Not long after, one by one, they began to leave for their respective duties, and Amaya was left with Sirius and Luka in the dining hall. She volunteered-- insisted, rather, to help clean up the area after knowing that they actually threw this breakfast banquet for her.

With a couple of mugs in hand, she stopped by the window to watch the soldiers spar with each other out in the courtyard. Fenrir and Ray were there, getting pretty hands-on themselves.

"Is it like this everyday?" she asked, eyes still glued to the window.

"Hmm?" Sirius towered over her short frame, taking a quick peek at the activities outside. "Generally, yes. Training is scheduled throughout the day. Different times for different squads."

"Mmm." She hummed. Her eyes followed one of the soldiers who was heavy on his feet. It was amusingly painful to watch how he threw himself forward with the thrust of his wooden sword, only to be parried and tripped to fall face first on the ground. "Oh nooo-" she mumbled, lightly laughing at the young man's stumble.

Engrossed in the comedic scene before her, she forgot that Sirius was still beside her by the window when he spoke, "Those are their new recruits, by the way."

Of course they were the new recruits. If they weren't, they'd be wiped out in an instant if they were thrown out in the frontlines. She kept her opinions to herself, slightly shaking her head at the thought that maybe even she could take them out with her eyes closed.

"Mmhmm, and it looks like Ray and Fenrir are having the time of their lives with the kids." she chuckled, watching the Ace spar 3-to-1. His hand-to-hand combat skills are impeccable, but a bit reckless to some extent, obviously treating that session like a game more than an actual spar.

"Sirius," Luka softly called from the kitchen door, cutting the two from their conversation. "I'll be going to the market."

"Want to go for a walk, little lady?" Sirius asked.

"Sure," she shrugged, taking one last look outside before glancing at Sirius. "Where to?"

Sirius gazed at Luka who was buttoning his jacket by the kitchen doorway, "Luka, could you take this little lady with you to the market?"

The purple-haired soldier looked questioningly back and forth between Sirius and Amaya, "Amaya? Okay."

#ikemen revolution fanfiction #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen kakumei #ikemen series #ikemen revolution #ikemen original character #gemini

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peterthepark · 5 years ago

Text

Forget Me Nots

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You’ve loved him for so long, enduring endless days of pining and whirlwinds of pain in your heart. It’s tearing you apart how he doesn’t recognize that you’ve been there for him this whole time. Maybe you should stick to loving from afar.

Warnings: so much angst, fluff, cursing, sadness???

There are an abundance of flowers that symbolize something - red roses often represented romance and passion, while lilies were of devotion and innocence, and sunflowers symbolized adoration and loyalty.

Behind every flower is a story. Forget Me Nots were your favorite.

There’s an abyss that spirals within your heart as you think of him. His smile. His laugh. For years, you used to feel giddy about him, the perfect guy who happened to be your best friend. But now, you simply feel a resigned longing for Steve Harrington. Yet, one thing never changed from all those passing years - loving him from afar.

Without a doubt, your feelings and emotions for Steve have multiplied with time. They’d come to halt dangerously whenever he had a new girlfriend or a crush. At some point, you convinced yourself that you were going to tell him about how you felt. And as expected, it never occurred. Unfortunately.

You’re watering the plants at the florist shop owned by your parents. It’s a small, quaint corner store with a constant flow of customers and passerby’s. There’s been days where you hated working there - for example, Valentine’s Day was approaching. There would be copious amounts of people, flocking to you for help as they would try to find flowers and bouquets for their significant other. Only for them to break up a month later.

The miniature bell by the door rings as someone steps inside. You hands work hastily as you trim the leaves of a few house plants, your mind occupied on other things. But when you feel familiar arms squeeze around your waist, you jump, causing you to nick your finger with the gardening shears.

“Steve!” You yelp, cursing as you hold onto your wound.

“Woah! Woah! Dude, you’re bleeding. Did I do that?” Steve scrambles to your side, inspecting the cut with instant worry. You sigh at him, heading to the backroom to take care of the injury. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Steve lingers by the doorframe, hands delved deep in his front pockets as he watches you run your finger underneath the tap. His head hangs low with guilt.

“It’s fine, you dork.” You meet his eyes, smile faltering for a second. He searches around for the first aid kit, shushing your protests before you groan at him.

The way your finger bled could not compare to the pain of how Steve made your heart bleed everyday. Nothing was new for you, except that he was taking responsibility for this one.

“Let me do it. Band-aids are hard.” He remarks, holding your hand tenderly in his. You screw your eyes shut as you feel that familiar pulse in your body as his skin touches yours. He’s warm and soft. Your hands are cold.

“Thanks.” You chuckle forcibly, looking over the crooked placing of the band-aid and finally noticing Steve’s dorky sailor uniform. “Anyways, what are you doing all the way out here?” You question, resting your hands on your hips. “Uh, I thought your shift at StarCourt doesn’t end till later?”

“No, yeah. I’m actually on break. I wanted to stop by and see if you were interested in grabbing some lunch with me?” He bounces on the heels of his shoes before running his hand through his messy hair. His eyes hold a glint of concern, his lip pulled between his teeth as he raises a brow at you.

“Of course, Steve. I’ll join in a few, just - just gotta wrap up shop.” You take off your apron, hanging the cheap material on the doorknob as you and Steve make your way towards the main room of the shop.

Part of you had wanted to deny his offer. But you could never find it in yourself to say no to him, especially if there was food involved. You flip over the sign on the shop’s front door, clocking out as you head outside.

You hiss as coffee burns at your tongue, prickling your tastebuds with an awful burning sensation. Steve starts to laugh at you, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he tries to keep all his food in. The quiet and cozy ambience of the café is interrupted when you and Steve are sent into a humorous coughing fit, doubling over onto the sticky table as you animatedly laugh at each other.

The interaction sends a floodgate of memories through your mind, hitting you with unwanted nostalgia. The emptiness in your heart returns instantaneously, and the grin on your face dwindles to a stoical line.

“So, what are your plans for Valentine’s Day?” He breathes out, letting a soft chuckle escape from his lips as he pushes his empty plate aside. He drums his fingers against his forearms.

“Hm... nothing. No plans,” You shrug, swirling the spoon that sits in your coffee. You found yourself feeling sad that Steve would even think of asking that question. He knew your love life wasn’t exactly active as his, so what was the point? You clear your throat, glancing up at him with hope. “You?”

“Uh, I may have - I may have scored a date with Jennifer Jones.” He smirks, gesturing happily with his hands.

And your heart drops. Suddenly, the room is cold and you can no longer feel the warmth radiating from your coffee. Jennifer Jones? Who was that? You had no idea who she was. Steve usually - and to your dismay - shared the details about his romantic experiences. How did you not know who Jennifer was?

“Y/N?” Steve studies your reaction, but all he sees is a face void of emotion.

Wake up. He doesn’t feel the same. Not in that way.

“Oh! That’s - that’s good.” You let the spoon clink against the mug before running your bandaged finger against the outline of your lips. You exhale, “Jennifer... I’ve never heard of her.”

“Yeah, I, uh, wanted to be sure that I actually liked her before telling you about it. I hear your advice in the back of my head every time I find someone remotely interesting.” He gazes out the window of the emptying café. His foot accidentally brushes against yours under the table, and you mirror Steve to gaze outside. “She works at Orange Julius. Really nice girl.”

“I’m sure of it. She must be pretty.” Steve agrees with a nod, taking a sip from his milkshake. Strawberry. His favorite. “And the date...” You turn back to him, trying not to alarm him with your sudden silence. “What are you planning on doing with her?”

Steve rambles about taking her to a drive-in by the city. But that was your drive-in. Only you and Steve went there. You knew you had no right to be jealous, but you couldn’t help but feel... neglected. It was valid to feel like this, right? But then, Steve mentions something else that tugs and snaps at your heartstrings.

“Do you think you’d be able to save me a bunch of Forget-Me-Nots? I know it’s your favorite flower, but I love the story behind it. I think it’d be perfect. I really wanna make that night special for Jen. Roses just seem outdated.” You can only nod, promising him with your pinky finger that you’d keep some in the back room for him. Steve then takes note of how you play with the hair tie around your wrist, and how you’ve been looking at the table instead of him. He reaches his hand across the table subtly, grazing it against your palm. “Hey, are you okay?”

The phrase is enough to send you falling into your heart’s abyss.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Your head is pounding as you hold everything back, pressing your tongue against the roof of your mouth to stop yourself.

“M’fine. I’m just tired. My parents have been on my ass lately about school and the - the business.” You’re wishing that Steve can’t see the pain and tears in your eyes, but by his expression, you know that he knows something is wrong.

“We can talk, okay? Let me help you.”

Steve takes you back to his house, ushering you into his bedroom. Your chest feels tight and your airway is constricted. He hasn’t seen you like this much, but it sends him into a immediate effort to help you. As he locks the bedroom door, you bury yourself under his covers.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Steve asks. The other half of bed dips as he sits beside you. You’re still hidden in the covers, finding comfort in the darkness and the rustling of the cotton sheets that smelled too much like him.

“Can I ask you a question instead?” You murmur, voice muffled from being underneath layers of blankets. Steve hums, crossing his ankles over each other as he waits for you. “Have you ever felt like - like nothing is right? Like everything that could go wrong for you has gone absolutely wrong in your life?” You poke your head out, furrowing your brows.

He nods slowly, processing your question, “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Okay, well. I feel like that a lot.”

Steve is quiet. And you would have thought that he left the room if your head wasn’t beneath the covers anymore. But he’s silent - it scares you a little.

“Actually, yeah...” He starts, catching sight of the band-aid on your finger. “I’ve experienced that. Sucks real ass. Is there anything else?” Steve grunts as he lays down, parallel to your body as his head rests by the foot of the bed.

Yeah, I’m fucking in love with you.

“Not really, it’s all family and business shit and well, you already know everything about that.” You chuckle sadly, glancing back at him with an unsure expression.

“Well, see, I can tell you one thing. One right thing in your life that I know of. Actually two things. You’re very lucky, Y/N.” Steve admires the picture of you and him across the room, a framed film photo that was taken on a road trip. He lifts his head from the bed, locking eyes with you. “Okay, so. One, you have me as a friend. That’s some good fucking luck right there. I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” You shake your head with a delighted smile. “I am so lucky for you, Steve Harrington.”

“Right? I agree. And two, you don’t need to wear a stupid sailor uniform for work. I mean, c’mon. This shit is inhumane.” He makes a face of disgust as he pulls at the collar of his shirt. “You shouldn’t have to feel that way, yeah? And if you do feel like that ever again, call me. I’ll remind you of all the right things, not the wrong.” His tone is calm with a hint of sharpness.

Steve does care about you - a lot.

But not in the way you wished he would.

He extends his arms out, grinning as you crawled into his grasp.

It feels safe. It feels familiar.

You rest your cheek against his chest as he puts his chin on top of your head, his big hands splayed out over your back. Your hair falls like a veil against his neck, tickling him so he has to brush it away.

If only you could stay like this forever.

It’s the dreaded day. The day with never-ending color palettes of red, pink, and white. The day with too many hearts and too many teddy bears and too many damn customers buying flowers.

Valentine’s Day.

Fuck you.

You survey the shop, making note of how many flowers have been sold in the first couple hours from opening.

You look up as the door opens, smiling as Robin slips into the shop.

“Hey, dude.” She says raspily, hands in the pockets of her jeans as she makes her way to the counter. You recognize the pitiful smile in her features: the way her eyes are downturned, crows feet peeking from the corners.

“Hey, you.” You reply with a nod, fixing things by the register.

“Did Steve tell you?” Robin questions, head slightly tilting as she steps behind the counter to stand with you.

“Who the hell is Jennifer Jones?”

And so you and Robin sit down in the armchairs by the corner of the shop - you, occasionally getting up to help out a customer. She tells you all about this Jennifer Jones girl with narrowed eyes and wide hand gestures. You can only reply in short phrases as Robin goes onto rambling.

“She’s definitely not as pretty as you, Y/N. Like not even close. I don’t even know where Steve met her.”

“Yeah, me either. Barely tells me anything anymore.” You scoff, eyes blinking at the ceiling as you slide down into the chair. “He drives me crazy, Robin. I don’t know if it’s healthy.”

“As long as you don’t lose yourself along the way.”

Maybe you have. You’re unsure. But you don’t tell Robin that, because you feel some semblance of yourself in your body. Despite the numbness in your brain, and the potholes in your heart, you’re somewhere in there.

Just lost. Not yet found. Not gone. But lost.

“I guess maybe - maybe I should move on. You know? I’m tired of - of waiting for something to happen.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, leaning forward in your chair. “I can’t even tell him how I feel. What’s the point? And he’s my best friend, so like - how can I live with him rejecting me?”

“But how will you ever know if he does feel the same way? Y/N...” She pauses. You wait as she fishes something from the back pocket of her jeans. And your heart swells as she places it on the coffee table in front of you. It’s the bracelet that Steve had gifted you on your seventeenth birthday: a thin, silver chain, with your initials engraved into a small charm. You had been looking for it for weeks, afraid that it would be forever missing. You take it into your palms with a featherweight touch, fearful that it would break despite how strong the material was. “You left it at my house.”

Robin studies the smile on your face. She notices the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, the child-like and innocent glistening in your eyes as you lock the bracelet into place. “I think you should tell him, Y/N.” You open your mouth, interrupted as Robin continues quickly. “If he does reject you, so what? At least you tried! He’s an absolute dingus if he does, by the way. But I have this - this thought that he feels the same. It’s like he hasn’t realized it yet, but it’s there.” She places her hand over her heart, words sincere and sweet.

Maybe Steve was lost, too. Not yet found. Not gone. Just lost.

The abyss in your heart doesn’t feel as deep and dark anymore. So, you look up at Robin, eyes brimming with fulfilled tears.

“Thank you.” You stand up to wrap your arms around her, pulling her close. She pats your wrist, eyelashes fluttering against her freckled cheeks.

“And if anything, you could always date me.” She jokes, playfully pushing your hand away as you go to help another customer.

Her advice did give you some peace of mind.

But honestly? The fear and the doubts, and the overwhelming emotions hadn’t really downsized at all.

Your heart still aches for Steve Harrington.

You feel it most at night, laying in your bed. When you’re wide awake, mind buzzing with thoughts: thinking of him.

You feel it more when you wake up from a dream. But the dream is one of those kinds, where everything feels realistic and authentic. Nothing could feel better than that.

Yet you feel it even more when you realize that dream, was simply just a dream - nothing more - and Steve never loved you like that in reality.

Nothing felt lonelier than the profound hole that dwelled in your chest.

Your own imagination can kill you, sometimes.

“Harrington!” Robin hoots as your charming friend walks into the shop. You blush when you recognize that he’s wearing the windbreaker you had given him for Christmas - red and white and all ‘Valentinesy.’

“Buckley! Y/L/N!” He grins, fist-bumping Robin before he makes his way over to you. You rest your forearms on the counter, leaning over the register to meet his gaze. That’s when you notice he has something behind his back, and he whips it out quickly when he realizes you’ve seen it. “For you, pretty girl.”

Roses.

But weren’t roses outdated?

Despite the lingering memory of Steve mentioning something about no longer liking roses, you take the small bouquet with a cheerful smile, thanking Steve as you place them in the empty vase behind you. “They’re gorgeous. So sweet, Steve Harrington.”

Maybe he wasn’t going on that date tonight.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you a little something before I stopped by.” He glances around, over your shoulder and into the back room. He lowers his voice, brows raised. “Did you save me the flowers?”

Oh. That’s what he wanted.

That’s why he came.

Not for you.

But for Jennifer.

“Uh, yeah.” You lock eyes with Robin, who waves goodbye to you supportively. “They’re in the back. C’mon, lemme show you.” Steve follows you, grinning widely like a child on Christmas. He’s humming a song under his breath, and you’re glad that he’s happy. But at your expense. “You better be glad that I was able to save these for you.” You pass him the handmade bouquet, filled with the vibrant, gorgeous blue of Forget-Me-Nots. “They’re not in season anymore.”

He pulls you into a side-hug, one hand clutching the root of the bouquet while the other touched your back. “Thank you. Thank you.” You step away, crossing your arms against your chest as you shush him. “I’m serious. I’m happy you did this for me. And I know that it must’ve been a hassle for you, so let me make it up to you. Tomorrow? I’ll take you to that cool garden tourist place thingy that just opened up.”

“For sure. I can’t wait.”

Is that all your friendship was anymore?

A returning of favors? Oweing one another? Paying what was due? Bullshit.

“Anyways,” You start, rubbing your palms together. “Are you excited?”

“For the date? Hell, yeah.” He bobs his head, leaning against one of the metal racks with shoes crossed. “Like c’mon, how long has it been since I’ve been on one of those? Hope I can keep her interested long enough.”

You wouldn’t need to talk and I’d still be interested in you.

“You’ll be fine, Steve.” You reach over his shoulder, fixing one of the potted plants. “You’re a charmer. I’m sure you’ve already got her wrapped around your finger.” You wink teasingly, placing your hands lightly on the sides of his neck.

You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.

Steve kisses the side of your head, a gesture that you had always been accustomed to throughout your friendship. “Thanks for being there. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I’ll always be there for you, Harrington.

“Yeah! Call me! I wanna know how the date goes,” You chuckle, a hint of sadness lingers in your eyes, but Steve doesn’t notice. He bids you farewell with another embrace, squeezing you tightly.

Maybe he could hear finally your heart crying out to him.

Briefly, you shift forward to go after Steve, hand barely raising from resting on your thigh. But you don’t go after him. It wouldn’t be right.

How do you kill a feeling?

Steve was just your best friend. That’s all that it was. It must be better this way.

Once the day ends, you drive home.

The gloom loitering around the sky and greying clouds adds onto your sadness. You feel lonely. You are lonely. What do you call that numbing pain in your chest when you’re in too deep for someone? Was there even a word to describe that?

Your parents’ house is quiet - left home alone from being on a business trip.

Hell, maybe even your own parents were forgetting about you.

You’re sitting in the living room, surfing through channels aimlessly on the television. Valentine’s Day has never felt any worse. You’re cozied up on your couch, blankets wrapped around your body as the fireplace crackles softly in the background. You snack on a tub of ice cream, smacking your lips at the taste of chocolate.

It still tasted bitter.

You’re watching one of those old romance movies from the 60s, eyes blinking widely as you bite onto your spoon.

You feel tears well up in your vision as the two actors on screen kiss, lips pushing together passionately as their hands roam each other’s bodies. You sniffle, pulling the spoon out of your mouth, dumping it into the empty container in your lap.

You’re a sobbing mess by the time the movie ends; your head hurts and your body feels overwhelmed with unforeseen exhaustion.

You close your eyes.

Darkness.

You jump from the couch when you hear a loud, persistent knock at the front door. Rain pours heavily outside as it nears midnight. You groan, shutting off all the lights to go sleep upstairs.

But the knocking at the door doesn’t stop. The windows shake with fear as wind begins to pick up strength. You carefully step down the staircase, cautious as you unlock the front door.

“Steve?” You breathe out.

It’s like the oxygen has left your lungs as soon as you look over the state of your best friend.

His jacket is drenched, thick hair sticking to his face as he squints through the night. Shivering from the frigid weather, his lips turn to a disconcerting shade of blue.

He’s crying.

You can clearly see shades of red blooming around his eyes through the pouring rain. He struggles to stay upright, and you usher him inside immediately. He can barely get any words out, breathing heavily.

“Steve, what... oh, my gosh.” You wrap yourself around him, pulling him under your arm as you take him to sit by the fireplace. You’re peeling his jacket off of his arms, flinging the wet material aside before you re-light the fire. No words are exchanged between the two of you, mostly a few gasps and concerned gazes from your end. You’re tugging Steve’s shirt off of his body, throwing it into the pile of his other ruined clothes. You take the blanket from the couch, dabbing at his cold skin and wrapping it around him. You pull him into your lap when you sit down, unsure of where to start. “What happened?” You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as you let your other hand rub at his forearm. “Steve? Are you okay?”

He lets out a strangled sob, bringing a hand up to hide his face. Steve trembles against your body, burying his nose onto your warm thigh.

The rain patters harshly against the house - and now you know why.

The angels were crying with him.

“Shh... it’s okay. I’m here.” You soothe him, fingers dancing across his spine. You lean down to plant a kiss onto the freckle on his bare shoulder, closing your eyes. “Let it out, Steve. Let it all go.”

You feel for him.

A teardrop rolls down your cheek, melting into Steve’s skin. He’s clawing at your shirt as he moves to sit up higher, trying to bring himself as close to you as possible. You don’t say anything as he embraces you with a bone-crushing touch, tightening around your ribs.

“She didn’t like me.” He cries through a small, hoarse voice.

“Oh, Steve.”

His hair is dripping wet, drops dampening your shirt. It’s messy. You’ve never seen anything like this - not from Steve, anyways.

Snot pools around his nose, sticking to the ends of your hair along with his saliva. His nails dig deeply into your sides, holding onto you for dear life. Your lips lightly press against his forehead, lingering there as you wait patiently for him to continue.

You start to feel his body warm up from the heat of the fireplace. He no longer trembles as much, but his hands still remain clenched tightly around the fabric of your shirt. You can feel the soreness in your legs from how heavy he is, but you push through - enduring it for Steve.

“She, uh,” Steve looks at you. His cheeks are stained with tears. A sight that breaks your heart. “She called me stupid. And - and she said I wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t even that cute to begin with.” You push the hair away from his eyes. “She said that she went to high school with us... and that this - that whole date was just a way for her to get back at me. I don’t remember what I did, Y/N. How can I not remember what I did?”

Steve sobs again, hyperventilating into your chest. “Breathe. It’s alright.” You coo, resting your forehead against his. “Steve, that was high school. We all were - were different people back then. Whatever happened with Jennifer during that time should’ve been forgiven.”

“I was an asshole, Y/N.”

“Yeah, then.” You huff, still embracing him. You raise your brows, the fire illuminates your face as you continue to speak. “At some point, we have to let go of the past, I guess. People can be unforgiving, Steve. And if Jennifer is one of those people, then forget about her, you know? There’s always room to change or make mistakes.” You try your best to console him. “You’re different now, Steve. She shouldn’t be messing with you like that. No one should.”

He stares blankly at your lips, before his brown eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“What if nobody really likes me?”

The question strikes a dark place in your heart. And you have to glance away to keep tears in.

“Y/N, what if - what if I’m destined to be alone and nobody will ever love me as much as I love them?” Silent tears roll down his face as he loosens his grip on you. “What if you don’t even like me?”

“Don’t you dare say that.”

“Y/N, why the fuck do you still like me? I’m - I’m horrible.”

If only he knew.

“Steve, you’re my favorite, favorite thing.” You shake your head at him, bewildered that he would think like that. “You make me feel so safe. And complete. You’re my best friend. I couldn’t live in a universe without you.”

He starts with a scoff, and you’re terrified of what he says next. “But I want - I need someone who will love me, eventually. Someone who can give as much as I do.”

Ouch.

You remain quiet. How can you help Steve when you feel the same? Only, the feelings were directed towards him?

Steve wipes his nose, pulling away from you. He chuckles. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

You chuckle too, but sadly. “I like the idea. I believe there’s someone for everyone. Someone who’ll love you despite anything.”

It’s me. I’m that someone.

“Do you think we all have soulmates? A person for each of us?”

“I do. I really do.” You turn your head away from him, staring into the crackling fire.

“Maybe some of us don’t get a soulmate. Kinda like - like natural selection.” He shrugs, fingers picking at the thread of your carpet. “Maybe some of us don’t get to - to, I don’t know, experience being loved.”

“But sometimes it’s not about being loved by someone else.”

A soft, barely visible smile lingers on Steve’s face.

“Hey, I’ve never asked you this. Not in a while, at least.” You hum in reply. “Do you like anyone?”

“Right now?” He nods. You let out a small exhale through your nostrils, scoffing. “Yeah. I like this - this guy a lot.”

“Does he like you back?”

Steve doesn’t ask who it is.

Maybe he knew.

“I don’t think he does, Steve.” You caress your own jaw, finding comfort within yourself. You feel Steve’s eyes on you, and you suddenly feel extremely vulnerable as you decide to look back at him. “I’ve never asked him if he does. I don’t - I don’t wanna ruin what I have with him. I think that... I’d rather suffer myself than... than lose him, you know?”

“You should tell him.” You close your eyes, turning away from him with a sad frown. “Listen. Anyone would be lucky to have you, Y/N.”

“Steve...” Your eyes are pleading, scouring his face in hopes that he’d realize. “Steve.” His eyes begin to widen when he hears the shattering crack in your voice. You don’t fail to notice how he moves his hand slightly away from you.

He knows that look anywhere. It’s the look that Robin gave him when she admitted her feelings for Tammy Thompson. It’s the look you give someone when you say something a little too scary and painful.

“No...” He laughs. You start to cry, clutching your hands to your chest as you scoot further away from him. His face falls when he watches your drops of tears plummet to the ground. “Me?”

His voice is almost condescending.

“I-I... Steve, I-“

“Y/N. We’re - I can’t do this.” He stands, nearly losing his balance. You don’t follow him, leaning against the couch as you bring your knees to your chest.

“This is what I was afraid of. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You ram your fists to the sides of your head. Your cries are distressed, echoing throughout the house.

The abyss in your heart has enveloped you. You feel sucked in, screaming for help as you’re dragged into the darkness.

Heartbreak.

Was it too late to un-love someone?

Steve paces around the living room, hands on his hips as his red eyes dart around the room.

“I get it, if you don’t feel the same way. We’re supposed to be best friends.”

“Y/N, I don’t - I don’t-“

“I know.” You whisper huskily, leaning into the couch. You don’t look at him.

“I think I should go.” He says shakily. He pinches at the skin in between his eyebrows, stuttering over his words as he puts on his shirt and jacket, still soaked from the rain. “Thank you. For the, uh... for the help.” You don’t reply. Steve sees the broken shell of his best friend. And yet, he’s too shocked and selfish to fix her. “I’m... I’ll see you around, Y/L/N.”

“Okay.”

And he leaves. Not once looking back at you or to ask if you would be alright. You lay there, head resting on the couch cushions as the fire hums a heart-wrenching ballad. You can’t breathe.

You walk with wobbly legs up the stairs, taking deep, uneven breaths as you open your bedroom door.

Your room feels wrong. And your bones shift in your skin as you throw the covers off of your bed, angrily stripping them away from your mattress and letting them parachute onto the floor.

You are the abyss.

It no longer resides in your heart.

But inside and around you, floating through your veins.

Your eyes are grey with color as the answering machine beeps with another useless message.

‘Hey, Y/N. It’s Robin. I haven’t seen you in like a month, how are you? Uhm, I wanted to call and see if you were doing okay. Yeah. So, if - when you aren’t busy, call me back. Please? Thanks. Love you.’

Beep.

‘Y/N! This is Dustin. Dustin Henderson. Steve’s friend. Yeah, okay, hi. Ow!’ You hear a rustle on the other end of the line. ‘Anyways, we - I was wondering if you wanted to come to the movies sometime with me and Robin... and uh, Steve. Hope to hear from you. Kay. Bye. Dude, you need-‘

Beep.

‘Y/N. Hey, it’s Steve Harrington. It’s Steve. Yeah, uh... call me? I-I... just call me back when you’re free. Right. Take care. Miss you.’

The answering machine no longer blinks red.

You feel exhausted. Moreover, you look exhausted. Your face is pale, aching to see sunlight. Your nose is runny from a cold, throat starched for water. You haven’t been to your job in weeks, halting the business temporarily until your parents were to come home.

It worries Steve when he tries to drop by the florist shop, finding it empty and pitch black inside. He can see the roses that he gave you on Valentine’s Day, wilting in its porcelain vase. He tugs against the glass door, sighing when he finds it locked. Obviously, he could hear you say. He reads the handwritten note on the window:

‘Closed. Flowers are not available for sale. Come back another time.’

Steve knew you had to be at home - hurt and healing

He runs into Robin as he walks hastily to your house, and he sees the angry stare that his friend sends him from the end of the sidewalk.

“What the hell are you doing here, dingus?” She snaps, pressing her finger into his sternum.

“I fucked up, Robin. Big time.” He glances at your bedroom window, hoping that you were in there somewhere. “I wanted to apologize to her.”

“Not right now. Go away.” She brushes past him, hitting his shoulder with her own.

He really has fucked up.

Robin sighs in pity when she glances back at her friend, relaxing when she sees the genuine defeat on Steve’s face. “You can’t just waltz in there and apologize. She’s hurting, Steve.”

“I know. I feel horrible.”

“She’s in love with you.” Robin admits. She feels a bit bad for saying it to him, when you should really be saying it - but she’d do anything to save you from feeling any more pain. “I’ve seen her through her best... her worst days - and yet it all comes down to you. Oh, Steve did this for me. Steve did that.” She mocks, tilting her head from side to side as her lips twitch upwards. “She’s your best friend. And she loves you more than anything. What more could you possibly want than that?”

Steve chews on his bottom lip anxiously, hands feeling around in the pockets of his jacket.

“She isn’t expecting you to love her back, Harrington. If that’s what scares you.” Robin places a friendly hand on his shoulder. “She just needs to know that you’ll stay. No matter what. And if you do have feelings for her...” She dips her head down, meeting eyes with him. “Then don’t be afraid to tell her. It’s only Y/N.” She turns on her heels, stepping up onto the porch to ring the doorbell. “You should probably go. Figure yourself out first before trying to help her right now.”

He knows she’s right. With slumped shoulders, he drags his feet off of your lawn. He glances back instantly when he hears the quiet hymn of your voice, and sees your face before you shut the door behind Robin. He tries to wave weakly.

But you don’t look at him.

Not this time.

Another two weeks pass by before Steve catches sight of the fluorescent lights in your shop. And he sees a familiar figure working the register.

Without hesitation, Steve swerves onto the emergency lane, tires screeching as he pulls to an illegal stop. He nearly gets run over by a speeding car, but the adrenaline is too much for him to care about anything else right now. He sprints past the road, bumping into a few strangers as he swings open the shop’s door.

“Y/N.” He pants out. His hair is wind-swept, brown curls falling against his face. “Hi.”

You look up from the register, knocking over a cup of pens when you recognize the handsome face. “Steve.”

He rushes over to help you, attempting to pick up the fallen supplies. But you’re quick with your movements, scooping all the pens back into their designated cup by the counter before Steve can help you. He then sees the dirty handprints on your unwashed green apron, realizing that you had only just gotten back from your break.

“Hi, again. It’s, uh, it’s me.” He scratches the back of his neck nervously, adjusting the collar of his shirt when he feels it fit too tightly around his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he crosses his arms against his chest, trying to seem as casual as possible. You’re giving him a weird look, but he can just make out the anxiousness in your pupils. “I wanted to... say sorry. I panicked that night. When-when...”

“When I told you how I felt.” You finish, running your hands up and down your jeans.

You both are lumps of awkwardness, unsure of where to look and what to do with your bodies. You mimic Steve, holding your arms against your ribs as you lean onto a table.

Steve’s just glad you’re actually talking to him after all those weeks. It seems like he’s just met you again: the awkward fidgeting, the ramblings, the way his hands shook after speaking to you - it felt exactly like the day you met.

He remembers it all too vividly.

“Is that all?” You ask, putting your hair up and away from your view. Steve doesn’t hear forgiveness in your tone. He should’ve known it wouldn’t have been that easy, that fast.

“No,” He says. He taps at his bottom lip, before wagging a finger at you. “You don’t happen to have more Forget-Me-Nots, do you?”

Steve visibly cringes when he hears the dramatic scoff you give him. “Yeah. I do. They’re in the back. Why?”

“No reason.”

“Did Jennifer make amends with you?” You question uneasily, stepping into the other room to grab the flowers for him.

“No, not her. They’re for something else.” He shrugs as a matter-of-factly. “Here. I’ll pay for them?”

“Take them. It’s fine. I don’t have a use for them anymore, anyways.”

But they‘re your favorites.

Unless they aren’t anymore?

“Of course. Uh, I’ll - I’ll catch up with you soon.” He looks down at the precious potted flowers, holding them delicately with his two hands.

He makes a beeline for the exit, before he hears you call out to him reluctantly.

“And Steve?” He turns, eyes blinking with interest in what you have to say. “Take care.” He grins. “Of the flowers.”

Okay, damn. So much for forgiveness.

“I always do.” He shrugs with one shoulder, flashing a lopsided smile. He hesitates to open the door for a second, but he does, running across the busy road with the pot of Forget-Me-Nots.

He’s going to make it up to you.

March.

It’s a cold morning in March when Steve finally gets himself together. He sits on the ledge of his bedroom window, eyes trained on the well-cared for pot of Forget-Me-Nots placed in front of him. They bloom gorgeously; seemingly, they are the only pop of color that remains in Steve’s messy room. He smiles, eyes crinkling with peaceful nostalgia when he glances down at the wrinkled piece of paper in his hands. He reads over the words, whispering them to himself as he tries to get them right.

It’s the longest he’s ever gone without seeing you. His feelings, as usual, are a jumbled mess of emotions. But he knows, that with due time, if he were to love you - more than a best friend - then it surely would be destined to happen.

He looks back into his room and away from the window. The wall across his bed is plastered with pictures, the majority of them are of you and him together. From the beginning of middle school, to freshman year in high school, to junior prom, to graduation - you’ve been there for him through everything. Every milestone, every heartbreak, every achievement and every breaking point.

Steve can’t help but ask himself if he’s been there for you through thick and thin as well. He wonders: has he been looking down all the wrong roads this entire time? Was he not giving as much as he took from you?

Holding onto the worn piece of paper, he folds and stuffs it in the back pocket of his jeans before he takes the pot of flowers carefully into his grasp.

Steve drives in his car, beating every stoplight and doing almost every illegal thing a driver could do. He sighs in relief when he sees that your curtains are drawn, along with your open bedroom window.

Classic move.

He parks his car recklessly on your lawn, definitely ruining the freshly watered grass with his muddy tires. Memorized like the palm of his hand, he climbs up your roof, being cautious not to step on the loose tiles that led to your window whilst balancing the Forget-Me-Nots under his arm. He’s out of breath when he finally gets up. He sees you through your window, nose buried in a book - unaware of his abrupt arrival. Steve crouches, tapping on the glass with his fist.

Your head snaps up. Glancing around your room, you sigh as you stand up. Steve helps you raise the window lift, grinning boyishly when it stays upright. There’s a glow in his eyes that you can’t place. Steve knows that you won’t let him in, so he takes a seat on the flat surface of your roof, placing the pot of Forget-Me-Nots on the window stool that separates the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. Steve recognizes the bump in your voice - the genuine curiosity, free of malicious intent. “You can’t be here, Steve. My parents... they-”

“I won’t waste your time. But I do need you to hear me out. You can’t say anything, alright?”

“Steve, what-” You shake your head in confusion, but Steve shushes you, motioning you to sit down as well. And you do. The flowers block part of Steve’s face, but you don’t care to move it - wanting to hear what he has to say.

“I’m gonna read you something that I found in my room.” You lean forward, placing your chin in the palm of your hand with sincere regard. “It’s a note. From you to me. In eight grade.”

A year after we first met.

Your face softens. Because you know exactly what this note contains. Steve clears his throat as he takes out the note from his pocket, smoothing down the rips and the wrinkles. The ink is smudged, messy and hurried but there is something genuine laced within those words.

‘Dear Steve,

You are truly one of the dumbest people I’ve met. So dumb, that you can’t realize that I literally have the biggest crush on you in the world. I like you. More than I like chocolate ice cream and more than I like move night. I could spend forever with you - that is until you make me just as insane as you. I’d donate my own braincells for you. I think I might love you. What even is love? You are too cool to be my friend. Too cool to be my partner in crime. And definitely too cool to be my Anyways, I’m writing this because I have too many feelings right now. Maybe it’s just hormones. Maybe it’s one of those things. But just know, that I’ll be here for you - no matter what - despite the teasing, or the dorky jokes, or the number of bad movies you always make me watch. I’m here. And I love you.

(Like a friend, of course)

Your best friend, Y/N.

By the time Steve has finished reading, his eyes are watery. He chuckles at himself, glancing at the paper one last time before he folds it neatly back into place. “I found it in my backpack.” He briefly waves it in the air. “I... you must’ve mixed my backpack up with yours because-”

“Because we had matching backpacks.” You smile sentimentally. “And everyone thought we were - were complete nerds for matching.”

“Yeah, they did.” He passes the letter to you, but his hands envelop yours when you attempt to take it. His fingers draw shapes on your skin, and he pulls your hands closer to him. “Letters are meant to be read, Y/N. And not only that, letters are meant to be answered.” He pauses, “And years later, I finally have an answer to that letter.”

“If this is you feeling - feeling pitiful towards me, for what I said...”

“It’s not. This is how I really feel. I’m doing this because... because I’m not lost. Not anymore.” He tightens his hold. “Y/N. You are truly one of the most unique, smartest and loving people I’ve met.” He chuckles, feeling his throat tighten at his words. “I never - I was selfish for never realizing how much you care for me. Not just as a best friend, but more. And yeah, it took me forever to - to realize that, but I was scared. Part of me has always had a crush on you. And what you told me on Valentine’s just - it shocked me. Because I was never looking for love in the right places. Love was in front of me, all along. She was sitting in the passenger seat of my car, watching terrible movies at the drive-ins, and wearing matching backpacks with me. I didn’t see it because I was too busy trying to see you as my best friend, rather than - rather than a soulmate. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. We grew up together. And you helped make me who I am.”

You can only look at Steve with doting yet astonished eyes.

The abyss in your heart...

It was finally releasing you.

“Steve, you-”

He holds a hand up, clicking his tongue. “I’m not done.” You nod for him to continue you, placing your other hand over his. “I remember the story behind Forget-Me-Nots. How it’s always had a special place in your heart.” He lets go of your hands, reaching for the flowers instead. He examines it, before he looks up to you with a grin. “A man saw beautiful blue flowers growing on this - this weird plant. And so, he jumped into water to get the blue flowers for his love. Although the current was strong, the man crossed the river safely and got the flowers. But on his way back, he was taken away in the water. Yet before he disappeared, he threw the bouquet of forget-me-nots to his love. She wore these flowers on her hair until the day she died and never forgot about him.” He takes a deep breath, before handing the flowers to you. “Every time I looked at these flowers, I-I thought of you. And I kept them alive. Isn’t that crazy? They’re still alive.”

Your lips pull into a shy smile as you duck your head to smell the flowers. “You’re unforgettable, Y/N.” He reaches over, caressing your cheek. You sigh into his touch, letting your eyes flutter shut against your skin. “I want you to remember that I’ve always loved you. It just took me a little while because well... I’m an idiot.”

“You are!” You laugh, giggling into his hand. He leans into your room, pressing an innocent kiss to the top of your head. His lips stay there, and he smiles into your hair. “Steve?”

“Y/N?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Let’s stay like this forever. I wanna remember this. I want you to remember this.”

“I would never forget it, Steve.”

Unforgettable.

1K notes · View notes

rockofeye · 5 years ago

Text

Calling Out and Calling In: Jessyka Winston and Haus of Hoodoo

It’s not uncommon for me to receive asks or messages asking me to verify that a particular priest or a particular sosyete is valid/authentic/traditional/etc. By and large, I don’t answer these because it’s not appropriate in that there is no reason for me to comment on a particular person or sosyete. That’s not how you make friends, maintain a religious community, or serve the spirits.

And, there is the truth that, in Haiti and on the island in general, there is variety in practice. I talk a lot about regleman, which is the appropriate order for things, and I talk a lot about what happens when folks just want to grab what they thinks looks cool or spooky for their own purposes (no, Papa Legba is not a cocaine-sniffing demon, no, Ezili Freda does not want to be saluted with twerking). Discernment is a thing, and well-trained priests have it; folks can sniff out fraud versus ‘huh, we don’t do it like that but it makes a lot of sense that other people do it this way’.

This doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of fraud and fraudulent folks who use the trappings of the religion to make a lot of cash. It happens a lot. A LOT. It happens in Haiti and it happens outside of Haiti. The birth of social media has given folks, legitimate and not, a place to showcase what they do and connect with people whom are seeking the spirits or, conversely, whom the spirits are seeking. It was that for me; I reconnected with an old friend on Facebook after at least 5 years of no contact and, through a series of Very Fortunate Events, found my way to my spiritual mother’s door from there.

Social media has given a platform for fraudulent people to really dig their heels in. Instagram (the platform I love to hate) is particularly awful with this. Folks who have not had exposure or training in the religion see beautiful photos and assume that what they are seeing is true and authentic because it looks like it must be, or someone is a very talented writer and uses generic photos along with compelling, persuasive text. This is not the fault of the folks looking—how can they know?--but the fault squarely of the people trying to trade the sacred for power, adoration, and, often most importantly, cold hard cash.

This reality often brings up a very difficult conversation to have that contains a lot of hard truths: the face of fraud in Haitian Vodou is not always white and birthright (or the presumption of birthright) can be abused.

These two things bring us to the topic at hand: Haus of Hoodoo and the person behind it, Jessyka Winston.

Haus of Hoodoo is a small business that began online selling fixed candles and posting lovely photos. Within the last 6 months or so, a retail location opened in New Orleans. It’s a cute shop (I like all the plants), and she portrays it as doing well.

Where things have gone from cringe-y to whose-child-is-this to ‘you have got to be fucking kidding me’ complete with the sort of strangled laugh that doesn’t come from something funny is around Haitian Vodou.

Let me be really clear: I have been watching this for a good long while, and I didn’t want to say anything for the reasons outlined above and because, quite bluntly, I know this is going to bring a whole lot of unpleasantness to my doorstep. Jessyka likes to flex, and how she flexes is making statements that she feels are intimidating/fear-inspiring, going in on character assassination, and, frankly, talking a whole lot of shit. She threatens sending spirits after someone, with the stated intent that a person will die or be made food, and she spins into this cyclone of nonsense that she thinks leaves her looking authentic and traditional. It doesn’t, and I don’t attach weight to those sorts of things or get scared of them. But, I have known that’s what is in store as soon as this is published and I had to kind of have a talk with myself to make sure I have really been willing to take that on. At this point, I am willing because what has been said is so incredibly untrue and, in some cases, downright harmful or unethical. There are times to be quiet, and there are times to speak. This one of those times to speak.

After the cut, I’m going to lay things out the best I can with the receipts I’ve got and the knowledge I have been blessed to gain. It’s going to be image-heavy and with a lot of text, and there’s a LOT of it.

But, before we get there, it’s important to acknowledge some things upfront:

Haus of Hoodoo/Jessyka Winston is alone in what she is saying. She is not gaining support from anyone and no one is standing up to agree with her. She has been a topic in the Haitian Vodou community for at least a year, and no one has said much of anything to her because, sadly, no one seems to be invested in her. I really do think this is sad. Haitian Vodou is familial in nature, even across sosyetes and lineages. Folks disagree with each other and argue, but they still come back and call each other sister and brother. She has said she is a part of no community and eschews what community means, but I can’t imagine what it must be like to not have anyone who will either support you because what you are saying is true for your corner, or anyone who cares enough to say ‘hey, I know you mean well but you’re really off-base here. Maybe you should walk it back’. I think this is why she has turned so poisonous. I know I have benefited greatly from a spiritual parent and siblings who have helped me right my course and/or given me a kick in the butt. Not having that is a huge loss and a huge spiritual hole.

I also do not think Jessyka is without redemption. She can change what she is doing and change the current course she has set for herself. While the things she has said will never go away, she can take responsibility for the inaccuracies she is spreading, the outright disrespect she is showing to Haitians and the people who made it possible for her to even have contact with the religion, and the harm she is inflicting. With the lwa, there is always a chance to do things differently. The function of community, in this moment, is to call out the hurt and harm she is spreading, and to call her in so that she may come back to center and work on repairing not only what she has perpetuated but work repairing herself as well.

(Quick note, some of the image formatting is weird and some images are darker than others. If you are having trouble reading something, let me know. I regret that I cannot caption each one. Additionally, I have removed the actual photos from the images for time and bandwidth)

With those things in mind, let’s take a look at what has been going on:

To timeline things for context, Jessyka initiated in Afa vodoun and Mami Wata practices in Ghana in early 2017. After her return to the US, she began talking about Haitian Vodou and began attending ceremony in New Orleans with a New Orleans spiritual community and a Haitian Vodou sosyete with their US temple in NO. At some point in here, she did a lave tet under the lineage head of the sosyete, and then followed that with kanzo in Haiti, where she was made a manbo asogwe. This is really fast and potentially really ill-advised. When you initiate somewhere, your head needs time to settle down and you need to get to know your spirits. When you spin through it and don’t give your head a chance to settle, things get messy—you are unbalanced, your head is unbalanced, and your spirits are unbalanced. A wise person once told me it takes 5 years to be proficient enough in something to have a basic understanding, and this rings true spiritually.

This is where things get sticky. Not too long after her kanzo (about 2-3 months, maybe a little more), she left the house she was made in, stating that she was taken advantage of. At this point, she had left her long-term partner, gotten involved with a Haitian man, and returned to Haiti to have other ceremonies done, somewhere near the end of 2018. I have receipts for these things but, for brevity and bandwidth, I’m not going to insert them all. If you want to see them, hit me up.

This is sticky for two reasons:

She wiped her Instagram of all visual cues attaching her to this house. She had written a LOT about them and a lot about the relationship she had with her initiatory mother, but she chose to try and re-write her history after she left. This is not how kanzo works and, in reality, not how the internet works. I saw a lot of what she had written myself.

Allegations of fraud in the way that she insists happened are hard to address because they often involve matters of secrecy that only another priest can recognize. I can’t say for absolute certainty what happened in the djevo/initiatory chamber she went into, as I wasn’t there. That’s not shade, it really just means what it says: I can’t pass judgment because I didn’t go inside that djevo. I would expect that sosyete to say the same of me in that they were not in the djevo that I went into and cannot judge the absolute correctness of what happened there. Priests are pretty solid on not extending opinions of things that have not verified with their own eyes.

What I can say is that Jessyka has posted things that are very true about kanzo (initiation in an asson lineage), and many, many things that are false. The largest problem with this outside of potentially betraying oaths of secrecy that I know she took is that she doesn’t seem to know the difference between what is true and what is manufactured, either by misinformation she has received or by her own lack of experience, as she has never stood inside a djevo on the other side of kanzo. She never went back to see how it was done, and she didn’t stay long enough to be taught.

I saw her post something once that she should know better than to post, and I addressed it as my one-and-done (or what I thought was one-and-done) shot at saying something, priest to priest, in the hopes that they would right their wrongs:

@anbadlo is my Instagram account that I use to post spiritual work and art, however infrequently, and I’ve mentioned it here before. It has the name I am commonly known by on the internet, which is pretty easy to link up to this blog and to my other online presences attached to Vodou. I wrote fairly quickly in my response below hers because I knew I was on borrowed time, as she blocks anyone who disagrees with her or that she perceives to harm her business (which is her prerogative, of course).

What I didn’t get a chance to screenshot before she blocked me was her further response saying that she would humiliate me with what I didn’t know about Haitian Vodou and that I should try going to Haiti before saying anything to her or anybody else. This was sort of eyebrow raising not because it upset me but because a) there is nothing humiliating or shameful about not knowing something and I am pretty open that I am always learning, and b) she spoke without giving a thought to who might be speaking to her. If someone was to pull me up online for posting something inappropriate or inaccurate, I’d at least click on their name to see who they were before asserting that I was an authority who could humiliate them. I also did not and do not understand why someone who claims to be a spiritual leader or authority would want to humiliate someone. Folks can be corrected without character assassination or purposeful embarrassment.

Far more interesting than those things, though, is that she denies she was made asogwe which is untrue based on her own words:

She’s since deleted this post, but it was a post that quite a few priests saw and saved. To be honest, I sort of chuckled about this because what is written here is not true about being a houngan or manbo asogwe but it digs at something more serious: her attitude and orientation of being more authentic-than-thou and being what she perceives as the most traditional of the traditionalists. Like, I come from a traditional Haitian lineage that is known for doing things traditionally, and all of this is above and beyond. I talk frequently about how Haitian Vodou is a practical religion, and it’s not practical to go bother the lwa if you want to have sex, shave your legs, or stay out late. There are situations where some of the things she has said might be true for a very short period of time, but no one does this nor is it traditional. Haitians are not going to their tables every time they want to get their hair done.

It is possible that she had some deep misunderstandings about what she was taught, it is possible she made it all up, or, perhaps most likely, it is possible that she offered all these things up to her lwa and they took them. Spirits can be opportunists and they love attention. If you commit to giving them a chicken every week, they will expect a chicken from you every week and are going to be displeased when you don’t deliver. If you offer things up, they are going to hold that as their standard. This is why discernment is important, as is maintaining ongoing relationships with a teacher and (IMPORTANT) asking before you make an offer when you are new to a religion and a religious office (priest).

It is also equally important to note that when you kanzo and come out a houngan or manbo asogwe, that’s an indelible mark that cannot be erased. You can point middle fingers at people and walk away, but that doesn’t change what was put on you. Other work and other ceremonies can be done (however ill-advised), but it can never erase what you willingly consented to and had placed on your head. Her desire to separate herself from this and her asson lineage of kanzo doesn’t mean it is erased, no matter how much you want to re-invent yourself.

But, this was kind of a fore-runner and warning sign of what was to come in terms of more-authentic-than-thou and, bluntly, honesty. In retrospect, if someone had sort of nudged her and said ‘hey, you don’t have to be doing the most of the most to be a good manbo’ maybe we wouldn’t be where we are. On the other hand, people have to take their own roads and it is not the place of any priest to really step in when there is no harm done to others. Like, if you want to tie yourself up that tightly, it is certainly within your rights to do so.

More recently, what she has posted has taken a turn for the truly bizarre. Her Instagram is a sort of echo chamber—some vodouizan read and largely do not interact, and a whole lot of people follow her who don’t have other exposure to the religion but, as before, she is standing alone. She says things and presents images that fit a narrative she creates, and it hits a nerve with folks seeking spiritual meaning or it fits an internal narrative they have, even if it is not a narrative reflected currently or historically. This is not a slam to folks who follow her or who have followed her and thought she was reflecting the Real Vodou she says she is, as we are all human and all searching for where our heart and heads feel at home, and sometimes that search has a pit stop or side quest.

She really got going with what amounts to flexing: she presents herself as powerful and untouchable, and makes statements that people she perceives as standing against her or attacking her will be harmed or killed:

At first glance, these things are laughable, literally. It is perhaps not my proudest, most enlightened moment as a person or an houngan, but I saw this litany of fear and I just chuckled because...c’mon. COME ON. This tells a really transparent story: someone got to her or she presumes someone got to her, and she’s Bothered. So, she posts these things about how spirits are going to eat people, she’s going burn things down, people are going to suffer, etc etc etc. This is a traditional internet spiritual song; I Have Been Wronged, Let Me Put On My Robe And Wizard Hat.

In Haitian Vodou, when these moments play out publicly, it is a moment when face is lost. Haitian culture and, as follows, the religion very much has an element of ‘don’t let them see you sweat’. Like, broadcasting that work was thrown at you means they win because acknowledgment is the loss. Haitians can be super stoic when things go sideways, and they don’t tell anyone that will listen (or the internet) that they are suffering. People want reactions, so you don’t give it to them. In some ways, this is where the chuckle comes from. In Haiti, it’s the aunties cackling.

Instead, you do your work. Do. Your. Work. You go to your spirits, you do your thing, and you get on with it because when you have the juice/power to do your work and take care of your business, you don’t have to tell people that you have it. The priests and workers who are the most intimidating and who can back it up are the ones who say nothing about what they can do—they just do it and wait for the conclusion.

And, like, after a chuckle, I have compassion for those moments of outburst because I’ve been there. When you feel you’ve been hit by work or are faced by things that feel like they threaten your livelihood, it can be hard to know what to do with that as new/young priest. These are things we unpack with our initiatory parent and our siblings who have been in the same spot. This is what the family and communal function of Vodou is for.

All chuckles aside, there are things to unpack here.

Intimidation is really about control. Statements (and actions, like she is talking about here) are made not to communicate a truth, really, but to bring about a desired outcome. Like, not having people publicly question the veracity of a statement or to create an environment where, if a person steps out of the perceived line, they are the target of the same vitriolic statements and actions.

There is also the perceive importance of the statements; that the spirits supposedly showed up in a dream and named names, that people will die, bloody imagery, that she has no control over things now. For vodouizan, this is kind of front-street pedestrian stuff. Dreams happen, sometimes they are violent, we keep it moving.

But, this takes what is meant for one person and tries to use it as a bludgeon to illustrate what Jessyka wants to be taken as fact: that she is something powerful to be feared. Beyond that fear is situational only, fear does not translate to respect. When you try to assert power by fear and intimidation, you only hold people by how violent you can appear. In Vodou, that might work for a minute, but it eventually backfires.

And, this sort of atmosphere is only maintained as for as long as those who are watching are not aware that this is fear, not necessarily substance. The folks who are wowed by threats of spiritual violence are the folks who have not yet seen Haitian Vodou is practice. The illusion falls when the cracks show and when seekers see anything else. In some ways, what has been presented is another version of the emperor has no clothes.

These kind of things—the threats, the descriptions of violence—play into a Western-dominated narrative of Haitian Vodou as uncivilized and dangerous. I showed some of these posts to my roommate, who is very much not a practitioner of anything spiritual, and their remark was ‘...and this is why people are scared of Vodou’. They are right. When we start playing up this idea of warring, bloody violence as what Vodou—and Jessyka claims she has ‘real Vodou’--we perpetuate the idea that Vodou is something to be feared, that Haitians are people are somehow inherently violent, and that Haiti is an uncivilized, backwards country. This is the dogwhistle of white supremacy, and has been since the first “zombie” movie was released in 1932.

And yet, there are more serious consequences to sort of gleefully portraying Vodou as something that always punishes and never embraces. For decades, Protestant missionaries have hammered on Haiti as a godless, devil-wracked nation, and used isolated images of animal sacrifice as a bludgeon to withhold aid or set requirements of conversion or church attendance on receiving aid. Those isolated images combined with a Western narrative that amounts to ‘yeah, I’m going to send my spirits at you’ gives that sector more ammunition than they could ever need. It may not hurt Jessyka or me directly, but it hurts Haitians living in Haiti who suffer the consequences.

The thread that gets tugged when even the slightest criticism of this comes up is that what Jessyka has is “real vodou”. She’s said it a few times, in a few different ways:

These are curious statements in a couple ways. From the top, anyone who tells you they have the absolute truth and are here to wake you up or that they have the real deal (versus the “fast food”) is looking for some kind of buy-in, whether it is someone falling into the same thought patterns or a financial buy-in. These are loops to get folks who may not have had access to information before on the hook. Everyone wants the truth, right?

This is manipulative and an attempt to control—if you’re getting the truth here, why are you listening to these con artists who are only out for your money? I’m giving you the TRUTH. The Bonewits Evaluation Frame for cults and new religious movements is useful here. It’s aimed at neo-pagans, but the criteria is universal.

It also perpetuates that everything in Haitian Vodou is secretive and mysterious. It’s really not. It’s a bit of a pet peeve of mine because it perpetuates this otherness that doesn’t need to be there. The religion has moments of secrecy and seclusion, but it’s really not as much as people would like others to believe. Here, the idea that she has the truth is communicated with videos of things that she seems to think no one will have information about or have seen before, or with commentary that creates this aura of exceptionalism. It’s simply not true.

This is a video of a chèche fèy ceremony; where leaves are gathered for initiation ceremonies or other large spiritual work. Often Gran Bwa comes down and selects the leaves himself, for some folks Simbi might come down and do this work. In the video, you can see several of the folks bearing leaves on their heads are possessed or close to possessed, and they are wearing the country-style outfits that are worn for particular types of work.

This is a pile fèy ceremony, where, as she says, leaves are being crushed for spiritual work, under the gaze of Gran Bwa. In many asson lineages, the act of crushing the leaves is part of a larger ceremony ahead of initiation, stretching for three nights to make sure all the work is finished for the new would-be initiates.

This is a video of a spiritual feeding for Danti, or Danti Bitasyon, Danti Demanbwe, and other names, who is sort of the conglomeration of ancestral spirits issuing forth from a particular plot of land. Generally, Danti possesses people who are blood relatives of the lineage celebrating the feeding. The caption is interesting because it’s an interesting read on what is happening as this is OUR spirit blessing us. Like, it is certainly possible but it’s curious. When you go to ceremonies regularly, you see spirits behave like this a lot (leaning on folks or falling into them while dancing and then dancing around the room/space) and, truly and honestly, what it boils down to is that the spirit is not yet seated fully and is sort of getting adjusted to it’s meat suit or you are simply in the way. Here, Danti is waiting for the sacrifice, which is happening or being prepared just out of view on the right in the corner, and is dancing while they wait.

The idea that it is a spirit that belongs to Jessyka and her husband is...interesting. When people talk about their spirits coming to get something or coming down, it often refers to the spirit mounting their head, ie ‘my Ogou came down at the fete last night and took his bull’. I certainly have face recognition with spirits who take the heads of others, but my spirits come in my head.

It’s also worth checking in on what Jessyka is referring to as the truth.

In Haiti, there are two main lineages of what folks call sèvis Ginen or sèvis lwa; also known as Haitian Vodou. One utilizes the asson/ason and is often called the asson lineage or some variant, and one utilizes the tcha-tcha, and is often called the tcha-tcha lineage or Deka Vodou. Additionally, there are numerable family practices specific to nuclear families that are passed to family members only.

After that, there are things that folks often refer to as secret societies, which is a weird term..they aren’t secret on the island at all. They have many names—Bizango, Chanpwel/Sanpwel, Makandal, Makaya, Zobop, etc—and a good way to describe them is Ginen-adjacent or Vodou-adjacent practices. They operate differently than most/many ason lineages or tcha-tcha lineages, and subscribe to different methods/means of building relationships with spirits and different ways of bringing people together. There are often specific color combinations and symbols (black/red, red/green, sometimes red/yellow, black/blue, coffins, etc) and an understood hierarchy explained with government-related terms like emperor, prezidan/president, renn(queen)/rwa(king). There’s often talk about being given a throne (Googling Bizango throne will show beautiful examples) and being in command and similar. A lot of people have a lot of feelings about these things, but it’s really just another way to do things. Lots of folks who have the asson also will have Vodou-adjacent practices as well; it’s pretty common and fits well together, not unlike folks who have Lucumi and Palo, or Candomble and Umbanda.

Why go into all this here? Jessyka codes and displays things a particular way that describes a Sanpwel-influenced practice, whether she knows it or not. Sanpwel is often very rooted in more rural areas and might combine with a family practice or exist alongside one. The temple complex in her videos is painted red and black, some of the dwapo displayed are styled like many dwapo in Vodou-adjacent practices are, and a lot of her language around being part of a manbo-houngan pair or the ‘chiefs’ who over see a ‘bitasion’ (bitasyon in Kreyòl Ayisyen) reflects this. None of this is a bad thing, but the idea that it is the true Vodou or the real Vodou on the island stems from folks like E.A. Koetting (of Become A Living God infamy) who got wow-ed by skulls with mirror eyes and manufactured the idea of more-authentic-than-thou. There’s no need to go all cloak and dagger about what you do, unless the cloak and dagger serves your agenda.

This sort of coding shows up when she talks about her ‘bitasion’/bitasyon. She has posted extensively about what a ‘bitasion’ is in the last few weeks, and she seems to have some confusion about it and is mixing it with other concepts from Haitian Vodou. A bitasyon is literally the physical seat of your home; your lakou/yard where you were born or where your parents had their home or where your family has lived over time. There are certainly spirits tied to place there—a family may have a Simbi who really likes one particular basin, or Freda may show a great preference for a particular tree—but how she is talking about it is curious:

There’s a lot here that is weird, but there’s a few things to pull out specifically. She describes her ‘bitasion’ as the land she and her husband have inherited, the specific land from where her lwa spring, and the land that her family has lived and died on for generations.

So...if she says that she and her husband have this ‘bitasion’ together, she is communicating that her family and her husband’s family are related and/or the same. This would be a huge oddity in Haiti. Even relationships between initiatory siblings can be frowned upon, nevermind actual blood relations. Further, she is saying that her family has lived on this plot of land for decades, so they’d be REALLLY related. Like, brother-sister related. I can’t imagine that, if true, this would be something she would talk so much about on the internet. I assume she has misspoken or misunderstood.

It could be that she thinks you inherit a ‘bitasion’ when you marry a Haitian, as she had, but she has an odd idea about it. Like, if that’s where she is thinking on it, she’s close. When you marry a Haitian, you become acquainted with their bitasyon. Like, your spouse brings you around and you greet the land and the spirits there and are welcomed as their spouse, but you are not greeted as a blood family member would be. Marriage doesn’t change things like that. Like, folks joke rather crudely that I am Haitian-by-injection (since I am married to a Haitian man) and I am acquainted and welcomed by his family, living and dead, and can go visit his various bitasyon as his spouse. If he was in some sort of trouble, I could go to one of his bitasyon on his behalf and ask for their help...but none of that makes those my bitasyon.

She uses this idea of ‘bitasion’ to batter people, saying over and over that you must have a ‘bitasion’ in Haiti to be able to initiate into her idea of true Vodou:

She repeats this all over the place over and over. She hammers on it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. A LOT.

She out and out says that Haitians born in the Diaspora are not real Haitians and cannot be called a priest in the tradition. Not only is this deeply inaccurate, it’s jaw-droppingly disrespectful and displays a lack of understanding of Haitian Vodou. A Haitian child born in the Diaspora (outside of the country) has a bitasyon. Several, in fact, and more if they have two Haitian parents. If I have a child with my Haitian husband, they will have several bitasyon in Haiti.

The same goes for Haitians who were adopted out of the country, who were orphaned, and/or Haitians who don’t know where their bitasyon are. These realities are deep wounds in Haiti and for many Haitians, and who goes around deciding, essentially, who is and is not Haitian? Like, this isn’t even addressing the spiritual fucked-upness of those statements, but purely from a human standpoint. No one gets to decide who can access their Haitian lineage or call on their birthright. It’s not just insensitive, it’s rude.

This pulls up what actually made me upset when I read a lot of these posts: the temerity of a non-Haitian to make pronouncements about Haitians and dictate what Haitians can do. Like, a legit priest is a legit priest and has the authority to speak on the religion, but the caveat—PARTICULARLY for non-Haitian priests—is that you speak with grace and a bit of elegance, especially around issues of identity when it comes to the identity of the people who allowed you into the religion.

There was a particular example that tapped into some anger and was the straw on the houngan’s back that made me decide to write this entire post. Unsurprisingly, it comes from a post about ‘bitasion’:

I missed it on my first read because there’s just so much to read, but when I saw it I had to put my phone down for a bit and go do something else. Out of all the stuff that’s here so far (and all the stuff to come), this is truly what made this post a reality.

How do you show up and do this in a country where the average weekly income WAS (because ain’t nobody really working right now when it is essentially civil war) less than $4USD a week for Haitians living in urban areas? Are you really going to put poor rural folks through the indignity of having to ask to cut some firewood? This is a brand new version of an outsider trying to show they are a gwo blan via power and control. These days, people in Haiti are used to it because it comes via missionaries and NGOs and the voluntourism of folks who show up to take pictures with orphans and hand out candy.

There used to be a different word for an outsider who punished folks working the land to survive: overseer.

This is the re-institution of colonial systems, and it’s pretty ugly, particularly coming from someone who is not Haitian. You can certainly be the sort of priest who wants to punish rural folks for cutting some firewood and then brag about it, but should you be? Really?

But, the biggest issue about her saying that you must have a ‘bitasion’ in Haiti is that she seems confused about where her ‘bitasion’ actually is. First she was born in Cuba:

Then she was born in the DR with lots of family memories and history from there:

To be completely blunt, I have a hard time swallowing someone else’s requirements about a Haitian bitasyon when they do not have a consistent story about their own bitasyon.

Next to the thread of what Jessyka believes is true vodou is this thread of confusion. It’s visible when she talks about her ‘bitasion’, her background, and it leaks out in a lot of other places:

There’s so much here that it is basically word salad:

There is no religion in Haiti (or on the island) called Asogwe. Asogwe is a rank of initiation in the asson lineage

Any temple that only has one manbo or one houngan is not a thriving temple. The idea that a temple will only make one houngan and one manbo per generation is hilariously uninformed. Go into any temple in any part of Haiti, and you will find a wealth of houngans and manbos spanning generations because the ceremony doesn’t go without many hands made to do the work.

Yes, initiation costs money. I paid $8,500 plus airfare for mine, and, after going through it and going back to work the ceremonies each year since, I think my mother should charge more. I know exactly what was purchased with my money (I got an itemized list), and I know that my kanzo was done ethically and as equitably as possible—each person who worked on my behalf (at least two dozen houngans/manbos, innumerable singers, drummers, people who cooked, people who slaughtered animals, people who did laundry, people who drove, and on and on) was fed and was paid for their labor. No one should be asked to work for free, and no one should want a low-cost kanzo because no one should be wondering if corners were cut in the making of their head.

If she thought her kanzo was empty and meaningless, perhaps it was because she left before she could learn.

It is true that I and other non-Haitians do not come from a bitasyon in Haiti, but I descend from my spiritual mother’s demanbwe (essentially a field of ancestors not tied to place), which is a key facet of why the asson lineage exists and why it has spread...there must be ancestral approval before extending the asson for ‘adoption’.

It is perversely amusing that someone who left an asson lineage less than six months after they completed their kanzo elects themselves as an expert who can dismiss literally hundreds of years of lineage and ancestral work and Haitians, all to sell some candles.

She has a core misunderstanding on what a “zombie” (zonbi in Kreyòl Ayisyen) is. A zonbi, at very base, is a soul held in servitude and controlled by the person who created it or by the lwa who owns it. They don’t mount people and they aren’t given in kanzo as she thinks. White folks and non-Haitians get mounted and it’s not uncommon. There’s even video out there, embarrassing as it may be, of me beginning to get mounted with a spirit. She’s uninformed and is speaking on things she has no experience in.

People should read these posts very closely. Remember when I said way up there that I like to watch people because they will show you who they are? This is Jessyka Winston showings us who she is.

She is out of ceremony less than a year. She walked from previous commitments after two months. Now, she is telling you how she will initiate you. She says over and over that an asson lineage initiation is a scam, but this is a blueprint to take money and do nothing.

She will initiate you only as a hounsi, but you’ll be the manbo of your ‘bitasion’ IF your ‘bitasion’--the land and the spirits passed to you by your family—tell HER you are valid.

If they tell her yes, she’ll give you a manbo/houngan initiation so you can go be a manbo/houngan of your own plot of land….but you are not a manbo/houngan in their temple because There Can Only Be One

You can’t fake it, because they will know.

There are no lwa involved in any initiation.

They’ll know if you’re lying, but it will also come out in divination.

You can only serve your spirits of your ‘bitasion’, but the spirits of theirs will recognize you as a hounsi

Ancestors cannot be sold or bought.

They are going to do things differently

So, to serve your ancestors as a priest, you must pay for two initiations, and it’s going to be pricey because, as she says, her work is VERY expensive:

She is willing to charge $157 for a non-specific half hour spiritual consultation, and will require a $28 fixed candle and a $12 headscarf be purchased for that as well, so it’s not going to be an initiation that tries to keep costs low.

That first initiation is to hounsi, which makes you a servant of the house. You’ll be expected to show up and help with things, and probably financially contribute.

If you have the desire to be a manbo or an houngan, she is the one who is going to speak for your ‘bitasion’, which is a plot of land but also ancestors, and tell you whether or not you have a future as a houngan or a manbo. If you do, it’s another initiation which you will pay for and probably pay quite a bit more because you’ll be a priest. When you start propitiating a bitasyon, that requires big ceremony to feed them...so animals, people to dispatch animals, cook the animals, drummers...all kinds of stuff. In Haiti, with the way things are going, you’re looking at more than $10K for that...and they’re going to have to do it for you, because you’re not a manbo or a houngan yet.

There are no lwa involved in this, because that’s a scam. There can’t really be any ancestors involved, because you can’t buy or sell them and so they can’t really do anything for you there except feed your ancestors….? Except she thinks that’s a scam, too:

Even after you’re a manbo or a houngan of your ‘bitasion’, you’re still a hounsi with them and still have a responsibility to their spirits..even though you aren’t from their ‘bitasion’. I guess that means you’re still dependent on them, right? It keeps you a servant?

But, what’s a little dependency and servitude when you’re a manbo or houngan of your own ‘bitasion’. They’ll assign you a ‘main ancestor’ to work with...but that’s not like a met tet that they would pick out of a magician’s hat. So, you’re good, right? Oh:

I want folks to go look at the Bonewits tool again. I want folks to have that open in one window, and this open in another. Read carefully. She is not yet saying she is doing this, but she is paving the road to make this look authentic. It’s not, it’s psychobabble word salad with a price tag attached. She is telling you right upfront—doing things differently, changing the fuckery—that what she is giving is not traditional Haitian Vodou. She is making things up and planning on bankrolling her retirement home on someone else’s back.

She doesn’t even have any support for this because she doesn’t consult elders, she just goes ‘straight to source’:

Haitian Vodou is based on family. Vodou-adjacent rites have hierarchy. If she is not adhering to this, she is not practicing Vodou, she is practicing Jessyka Winston with Haitian trappings and accessories. The religion changes and grows, but it is never at the behest of one individual and her husband—it is at the behest of the lwa, who we serve and there are ways that happens, which is well-documented over the last couple hundred years.

She is telling you who she is right now, PAY ATTENTION.

If you have been saving up for a $157 half hour consultation/$28 fixed candle/$12 moushwa value meal, you are better off throwing your money in a bonfire and cracking a beer. Don’t buy pretty packaging when the insides are rotten.

It is one thing to create this atmosphere of disinformation on your own, with your own name, but literally within the last 24 hours, she’s gone further:

Now she is naming specific people as not being real Haitian Vodou. The kicker? Manbo Carmel was the manbo Jessyka did kanzo with in 2018. In roughly a year, Jessyka has decided she has enough experience and knowledge to determine what is real and what isn’t, and what is Haitian Vodou and what is not. The sheer balls it takes for a non-Haitian to say that what a fairly well-known Haitian is doing is not Haitian Vodou is staggering. This is not brave or anything, it’s just unchecked and uninformed arrogance.

This is not the first time Jessyka has done this, though. Not that long ago, she came for my mother and the sosyete I’m initiated into:

She sings an old tired song and performs a busted old dance. The line that white people are too stupid to function is one that she likes to repeat regularly, and she keeps going in on cost like she won’t be asking people to pay for her back-issue-magazine-collage version of an initiatory experience. She brings up a rumor that’s been dead for years, and makes it clear (for folks who have been around for more than 10 minutes) where here info comes from.

The worst part is that this is what she did when someone shared their process, and she did it as a priest because she had already kanzoed at that point. That’s a level of immaturity that someone needs to be better than when they call themselves a manbo or an houngan. Operating on rumor and spreading gossip is what teenagers do, not priests who care when people are coming to them asking questions.

And, like, “not to talk shit..”? Come on. Come correct on stuff like that. If you are going to talk shit, then talk shit and own it and own that you are spreading rumors that you were not a party to because they have been floating around out in the ether since before you even thought about making kanzo.

There are also ways to speak to and about elders when you think misaction or harm has been done. If you really thought Manbo Maude was out here hexing her children and hurting her lineage, there are ways to approach it. Like, she’s not hard to reach or hard to find; you could call her directly. I know she’s spoken about it to people before, one of them being me because I asked when I heard the rumor. Or, you could approach one of her numerous, visible children and ask them out of concern for their well-being and safety. Or, you could approach any of the priests who make their friendship with Manbo Maude and Sosyete Nago known, which is easy to track down on Facebook or in any of the documentation about what the sosyete does that’s online. But, when your goal is to defame so you can elevate yourself above all of that, this is what you do.

Since she proclaims she knows and understands Haitian Vodou, she should understand the culture Haitian Vodou has high expectations of how children and younger people treat elders, both in age and in religious settings. You don’t do this. You don’t go out of your way to character assassinate an elder, even if you think they are absolutely 100% fraudulent. You can disagree, you can say it politely, but you don’t act like an ill-mannered playground bully and you don’t pot-stir. This is basic cultural knowledge.

My initial reaction when seeing this was ‘well, she really tried it, didn’t she?’, and that was followed by showing it to a sibling or two and noting that if I ever did something like this, my manmi (Manbo Maude) would have my head on a platter. Like, I would get a phone call and the conversation would go something like “right or wrong, you do not do this. I raise my children better than this”. I have been very gently pulled up for much more trivial things, and when that has happened I have wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole because I was so embarrassed. Not because Manbo Maude embarrassed me, but because she sat across from me, looked me in the eye, and told me she expects better of me because she knows I can be better.

Sadly, Jessyka does not have this grace in her life, because, as noted above, she believes elders are a scam.

And yet, she keeps digging. This morning, she went in on a transwoman who pushed back at her assertions that everything that does not flow from Jessyka is fake news fake Vodou and called her a man:

Like, you can disagree with someone (and Blair, the person Jessyka is talking about, and I have disagreed) and still not disregard humanity and gender. Again, Jessyka is showing us who she is.

Then, she starts flexing, because she’s catching some heat:

First it was send the spirits, now it’s haul out the Masons. Maybe it’s watch out for little green army men outside your door? Like, folks who have the power don’t need to say they have the power. They don’t need to say their boys are coming, because their boys are already there. This is immaturity on display, and she should know better and be held to better by people who care about her…that freedom horn is just the sound of her own voice, echoing into the depths of Instagram, of all things.

And none of these people who she keeps posting quotes from are speaking for themselves. Not her husband, not her Mason friends, nothing. Anyone who has spent five minutes in a group of Haitians knows that, when folks have something to say, they don’t need someone else’s mouth to say it.

And, like, why not try some chante pwen on your *Instagram story* when you need to look hard? Girl WHAT? I had some inappropriate laughter because This Is Not How Things Work:

She goes on at length about people not coming to her page to discuss with her…but why? Like, why invest that way when she deletes and blocks and throws Instagram temper tantrums? She doesn’t want to hear anything but what she knows, but desperately wants engagement. She tells Haitians how to be Haitian, but then doesn’t understand why the folks she aims at—houngans and manbos who have had the lwa on their head for longer than she has been alive—won’t engage with her.

There’s a really simple and straightforward answer that has come up already and that is really at the root of all of this: they don’t care. They are not invested in addressing whatever random, strung-together nonsense some blan who cannot describe where she comes from or how she came by what she has post on the internet, because their spirits and their lineages speak for themselves. Likewise, she keeps wondering why non-Haitians keep speaking up, and it’s because it’s the job of non-Haitians to collect their own. Why would anyone expect Haitian practitioners to dig in to this?

If someone did care and was invested, maybe she would have gotten some mentoring around this. Maybe they could have talked things through with her and helped her clarify what she was thinking and feeling so that she could post organized thoughts, instead of a stream of consciousness laced with words she might think give her an air of authenticity and threaded with threats and intimidation. Maybe someone could pull her up privately.

But, we are here. There’s a lot more and it looks like she is posting more by the minute. She couches it as it being co-written by her Haitian husband (maybe for authenticity?), but it is her name on it and no one else’s. She wants people to be scared, but there’s nothing to be scared of. She wants people to be intimidated, but there’s nothing intimidating here when you know how to see past the frothy, frenetic posting and really see what she is/is not saying. She wants to keep identifying people and why they are not valid in her eyes, she can keep going.

She’s probably going to try and tell me some things about myself or insist that she’s going to have her spirits kill me or that Masons are outside my house right now and….whatever. It’s okay. I know who I am.I don’t walk around scared.

But, I mean what I said in the beginning: Jessyka is not beyond redemption or repair. She can turn all this around in a heartbeat and make a different choice. The lwa have immeasurable grace for us and all our human failings and, if we can be humble, they can give that to us when we need it most. She has a spiritual sickness and deep spiritual problems, but that’s nothing that can’t be treated because we have the treatment.

We. Us. Community.

She has set herself apart, but she doesn’t have to be alone. We are a community, and if she reached out there would be an answer. Part of calling out bad behavior is calling someone in to heal. She can heal what is clearly a hurting heart and a confused head because we can heal a hurting heart and a confused head. When one suffers many suffer, and her suffering is palatable. I would invite her to bath with cool water and fresh basil, and to sit with Legba for a bit and look for the other path. We are always given two paths, and we can always make a change. Ginen promises us balance, but only if we seek it.

Today, for Jessyka, for folks reading this, and for the general atmosphere of dis-ease and confusion, I pray for cool heads and peaceful hearts, and for the knowledge that, if we are brought to the table, there is a unique place for all of us.

Blessings,

Alex Batagi/Bonkira Bon Oungan Daguimin Minfort

Pitit Antiola Bo Manbo, pitit Selide Bo Manbo, pitit LaMerci Bo Manbo

Sosyete Nago/Kay Manbo Maude, Jacmel and Boston

October 2019

#vodou #haitian vodou #real vodou #vodou culture #vodoun #vodun #voodoo #new orleans voodoo #louisiana voodoo #mami wata #new orleans #conjure #hoodoo #rootwork #folk magic #haus of hoodoo #hausofhoodoo #jessyka winston

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