#missed my turn at a roundabout and changed direction too fast to come off at the next exit

[cyanocoraxx]

DRIVING TEST FAILED SUCCESSFULLY <3

[chibinekochan]

Angel in Hell - Part 6

Obey me! Angel Reader Au.

Gen. reader insert.

Read the other parts first. part 1 | part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | | Part 5  | 

~2,5k words

Taglist:

@gothjuulpod  ; @purgatoryhall ; @sibit360  ; @a-personnamed-ace

*message me/send an ask if you want to be on here*

 ____________________________

Just a heads up that there is a very heated argument between Satan and Asmo later on.  

Also, a demon is hitting on angel Mc but they leave without doing much. 

Just skip the last part if you are uncomfortable with these.  *Basically everything that happens after you meet Satan.* 

____________________________________________________

  A few days have passed and the weekend is finally approaching. 

This week was very hectic. 

You mull over what to do. 

Maybe you should do some exploring. 

Then your phone rings.

  It's Mammon. 

"Hey, I was just thinking that you probably have nothing going on this weekend so I figured I'd be nice and invite you out. I plan to go with Asmo to a club. I think it will be great fun and we can really let go, you know. What do you think?" Mammon asks you in a roundabout way but you can tell that he wants to spend time with you. 

" A club? I haven't been to a demon club before but as long as we are home before curfew it should be fine." You think that it sounds like fun. 

"Sometimes you need to let go, you know. Rules are great and all but you can't just live like this. Well whatever, it's fine with me. I will make sure to bring you safe and sound back." Mammon seems slightly annoyed but still goes out of his way to do it anyway. 

" I will trust you. When will we meet?" You smile lightly. 

"Wow, talk about a direct hit. I'll pick you up at 7 pm. Is that okay?" Mammon seems a bit taken aback. 

"Sounds great. I look forward to it!" This sounds like fun to you. 

You both hang up. 

Now your plan for tonight is set but now the question is what are you dressing? 

Then you see a message from Asmo. 

Asmo: I heard the great news. I'm excited. Do you know what you are going to wear?

  You: No, I was just thinking about it. 

Asmo: Great, then come over here. I have tons of great outfits and I can do your styling too! 

You: Isn't that a bother to you? 

Asmo: Nonsense, just come here, I look forward to it. ❤️

You: Alright, I'm on my way! ^_^

  With a smile, you grab a few things and make your way to Asmo. 

You knock on his door. 

"Coming! " Asmo opens the door just a few moments later. He wears a bright smile on his face. 

"Come on in. I already have some outfits for you in mind. Let's see what suits you best." Asmo seems very giddy. It's infectious.

  You smile at him and step inside the room. 

Asmo already has a few things shattered over his bed. 

Curious you take a look at the flashy clothing items. 

You don't think that you have ever seen anything like this before. 

They seem to sparkle in every color of the rainbow.

  "Is there anything that caught your eye?" Asmo has stepped behind you, sounding delighted. 

"All of these are very flashy. I don't think they will look good on me." You look a bit unsure about the clothes. 

"Don't sell yourself short. You have a great body and I know these will look great on you. I have tons more so we can try and see what you like most." Asmo compliments you without missing a beat. It's like breathing to him. 

At least you can't really argue against trying on the clothes. 

"Will these fit me?" You definitely do not have the same size as Asmo. 

"Yes, of course. I know your size so no worries there." Asmo seems very confident.

"How do you know my size?" You certainly never told Asmo. 

"I'm very good at guessing." Asmo shrugs. 

You aren't satisfied with this but say nothing else. 

You turn to the outfits that are laid out in front of you. One of them catches your eye, you hold it up. It's very flashy but it also looks very nice. 

You aren't sure if this is your style at all, yet you feel oddly drawn to it. 

"You should try it on. I bet it will look great on you." Asmo encourages you. 

You sigh softly and you take it with you to the bathroom to try it on. 

Asmo doesn't tease you for not dressing it in front of him. You appreciate it. 

It's a bit of a hassle to dress the outfit, yet it slides right on you. Like it was made for you. 

Feeling a bit nervous you step out from the bathroom.

  Asmos eyes sparkle. "Wow, this looks so great. I'm glad you decided to dress it."

He looks very happy now. 

Your cheeks flush lightly. "Thank you Asmo. It fits perfectly but are you sure that it suits me?" 

"I would never lie about style. Trust me, you look gorgeous. Let me style you and hmm maybe some makeup would be good for you too, maybe I could do your nails too. I can already see it in front of my eyes." Asmo seems very excited. 

It's impossible to turn him down. "Okay, but don't go over the top." You feel slightly nervous. 

"Don't worry about it. I will make you shine just enough to blind everyone hehe." Asmo giggles in delight. 

"That would be over the top." You feel a slight sense of dread. 

"Trust me, love you will be stunning once I'm down with you. I will be the only person to outshine you tonight for sure." Asmo pats your shoulder, to assure you that everything is going to be just fine. 

With a slight sense of fear, you surrender to Asmo and let him do as he pleases.

  You silently pray for mercy. 

Asmo is very giddy the entire time, he casually explains to you what he is doing and asks what you want him to do. He only does whatever you agree to. 

You are very grateful for this. 

Then when Asmo is done he has the biggest smile on his face. Like an artist who is proud of his finished masterpiece.

  "Hold on, before I show you your new look we have to do this properly." Asmo grins at you. 

"What do you mean?" Confused, you look towards Asmo. 

Asmo covers your eyes with his hands. "This. I won't do anything, let me just lead you over to the mirror."

You tense up a bit at his sudden touch. Something deep inside you tells you it's alright to trust him. 

So you follow his lead until he stops. 

You can feel his breath on your neck. Your heart quickens.

  Then his hands leave your eyes."Tadaa! What are you saying?" Asmo looks at your reflection. 

You can barely believe that this is you. "Amazing, I feel like a different person." You are stunned. Asmo really knows how to highlight your best features. 

"Haha, amazing isn't it?" Asmo is filled with pride. 

"Yes, thank you so much Asmo." You smile with glee. 

"Seeing you this happy makes this worth it." Asmo looks a bit sad for a moment. He then shakes his head. "Well anyway. Now it's time to glam me up. You will be stunned." Asmo goes back to his old gleeful self.

  You spend time with him dressing and doing his own makeup, hair, and nails. 

Asmo gives you some tips and you talk about the newest devildom gossip. 

Then Asmo is finally done." Am I stunning or what?" 

"Super stunning. You will put everyone else to shame." You always preach humility but you can't deny the facts. 

"Hehehe this means a ton coming from you." Asmo seems to be beaming with confidence. 

"We should get going now. Mammon said he will pick me up from my room." You just remembered that promise. 

"Don't sweat it. I will call him to come here. That way we can spend a little more time together. I gotta take a few pictures of us first." Asmo clearly has his priorities.

  Without hearing your protest, he quickly calls Mammon, who doesn't sound super thrilled but agrees to come anyway. 

After taking a few pictures together with Asmo, you hear a knock on the door.

  "Ahh! He is so fast." Asmo grumbles in slight annoyance.

You give him a light laugh and open the door. "Hey there, Mammon!" You look at his party outfit, it seems like he's also dressed up. "You are looking good."

Mammon seems speechless when he sees you. "Umm oh thank you…" 

"Aren't you going to compliment us? So rude!" Asmo teases Mammon. 

"Sh-shut up. I was going to say it." Mammon silks a little. 

You give him a kind smile. "There is no need to force yourself."

Mammon looks nervously away. "I wasn't...I just needed some time to process this. You look amazing." Mammon blushes. 

"What about me!?" Asmo butts in. 

"You look normal." Mammon doesn't want to play along, it seems. 

Asmo gasps. "Did you hear that? Unbelievable!" He seems very upset. 

"You look stunning Asmo, don't be so rude Mammon!" You shake your head. 

"Hehehe you just know what to say." Asmo is instantly better. You wonder if he just played being offended. 

"You are unbelievably using cheap tricks just to fish for compliments." Mammon sighs. 

"Well, we should get going before it's too crowded. I need some space on the dance floor." Asmo waves Mammon off.

You nod and with that, you all drive to the club.

  It's a very popular place. It's semi-crowded but Asmo has reserved space for just the three of you. 

It's very fun. Chatting, drinking, and dancing with both demons. 

You didn't expect to have this much fun. 

It's very delightful.

  You are just dancing when you suddenly spot another familiar face. 

You make your way over to him. "Satan! Are you here with your friends?" 

"Huh oh, it's you. Don't tell me you are alone here?" Satan seems happy to see you but also a bit troubled. 

"No, I'm here with Asmo and Mammon. Are you on your own?" You smile. 

"That's good to hear. These places aren't for someone like you to be on your own. " Satan sighs, slightly relieved. 

"I can defend myself." You aren't particularly worried. 

Satan looks away slightly troubled. It seems like he is about to say something. "You look great tonight. Asmos work I would bet." Satan swiftly changes the topic. 

"You are right. Hey, how about joining us?" You smile. It seems to be a great idea, the more the merrier. 

"Oh, I don't know…" Satan is about to refuse you. 

"Hey there, pretty think wanna leave this twig and come hang with me instead. I can show you a grand old time." A scummy looking demon just appears out of nowhere and hits on you. 

"No thank you." You try to hide your disgust. 

"Who are you calling a twig? You stupid scum. Scam before I forget my manners!" Somehow the demon made Satan very angry. 

"Come on mate, let me have some fun. They surely won't regret it." The demon has no clue when to stop. 

"They said no, so just buzz off." Satan only seems to get more irritated. 

"You are such a stick in the mud, let me buy that cutie a drink at least. How about it cutie?" The demon seems utterly drunk. 

"No, I'm good." You refuse politely. 

"Come on, be a bit nice to me." The demon steps a bit closer. 

Already blocked by the glaring Satan. 

"I hate to repeat myself. GET LOST OR I WILL FORGET MYSELF!" Satan yells. You can see an aura of anger building around him. 

The demon seems to finally get the message, putting its hands in the air and stepping back.

  "Satan. You are here too?! And there you are I have been looking for you." Asmo waves at both of you. 

Satan glares at Asmo. "Why the hell did you leave them alone?" Satan seems very upset. 

"What do you mean? We were just dancing. I looked away for a second and poof gone." Asmo doesn't seem to take this very seriously. 

"Calm down Satan, I'm fine. I just saw you, that's why I came over to you." You try to explain the situation in a calm manner. 

"It doesn't matter. You could have been harmed. Just look at that creepy demon that just hit on you. You could have gotten hurt." Satan's anger seems to only get worse. 

"It was fine, no harm, no foul." Asmo shakes his head. 

"You are way too careless Asmo. After everything you still pretend that this is some sort of game." Satan yells at Asmo, changing into his demon form. 

"I'm not playing a game. It was only for a moment that I lost them out of my sight." Asmo starts to glare at Satan.

"ONLY A MOMENT? YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT ONE FREAKING MOMENT CAN DO!" Satan grabs Asmo, he seems so angry, so desperate. 

"Calm down nobody was hurt." Desperately you try to calm Satan down. He doesn't listen. 

"Nothing happened so just get yourself back together. I wasn't the one that let someone be killed!" Asmo states coldly.

  It makes you almost shiver. 

This statement seems to cause Satan to lose his last bit of restraint. He violently grabs on to Asmo, who also turns into his demon form. 

" You stupid f*cking Bastard," Satan says lowly, but it's even scarier than before. 

"You know it's true so just punch me if you want to." Asmo taunts Satan. 

"Please you two calm down." You still desperately try to talk sense into them. 

It's useless. "What the hell?" You hear a confused Mammon next to you. 

"They started arguing after Asmo lost sight of me when I saw Satan was here and then some demon hit on me." You explain the situation as quickly as you can. 

Mammon seems confused, but the issue in front of him has to be resolved. "Hey guys, stop it. Lucifer will be mad if you start a fight." Mammon tries to calm them down.

  "Why don't you say that to Satan? HE started this." Asmo glares at Mammon. 

"Screw you. You keep your stupid butt of this Mammon or I will get you next." Satan has lost all reason in his anger. 

"Keep it down, Satan. Don't forget that I'm stronger than you are." Mammon also seems to be annoyed now. 

"Please guys calm down. Let's go outside and take a deep breath." You desperately try them to calm down. It's frustrating. 

"You keep out of this. All of this is just happening because of you!" Satan now looks at you, anger, frustration, and some unknown emotion mixed into his glare. 

"It's not their fault you stupid idiot!" Mammon now gets more frustrated with himself. 

"Yeah what are you stupid for? Blaming someone else for your mistakes!" Asmo seems to only put oil into the fire.

  Your frustration only grows. You need them all to stop this nonsense. 

"Screw you, it wasn't my fault." Satan shakes Asmo angrily. Asmo claws Satan's arm. 

Both seem to be too angry to reason.

  You take a deep breath. "ALL OF YOU STOP!" Frustrated you yell out.

Suddenly something happens, like a shockwave hitting all of the brothers. 

They get slammed to the ground.

  You stare wide-eyed. What just happened? Something like this could only happen from a pact!?

  You look at them and at yourself in disbelief. 

You can't wrap your head around what just happened. 

The brothers stare at you in equal disbelief.

  "What the hell? The pact was broken?" Mammon seems just as lost as you are. 

You can't even hear him. Your ears ring from the shock.

  Your legs start to move and you just run outside without another word. 

You are so confused, lost.

There is only one person that might be able to give you some comfort, some answer. Just something.

[pippytmi]

happy valentine’s day, here’s some au posie breakup angst 💕

Josie has a certain threshold of patience.

Admittedly, it is rather high; she likes to pride herself on the ability to remain level-headed in her place of work. But there are still limits, and Penelope Park pushes every single one.

This is why, as Josie approaches her door, she involuntarily squeezes her keys into her fist at the sight of her ex sitting cross-legged in front of her apartment.

Penelope hears her coming before Josie even realizes what’s happening. “Hey neighbor,” she says, giving her a two-finger salute. She does not make a move to get up off the floor.

“What are you doing here, Satan?” Josie mumbles. It’s more of Lizzie’s dig than hers, but she has no tolerance for banter today. She’s exhausted, and the last thing she wants—or needs—is another back and forth with the girl who broke her heart.

“I’m in a bind.” Penelope smiles up at her sweetly, too sweetly, as if pleased to be seated on the grimy carpet outside Josie’s apartment. “I’m locked out of my place. Any chance I can borrow your phone to call the super?”

“Seriously?” Josie fists her keys so tightly they’re beginning to hurt. “You literally live one floor below me. Ask another one of your neighbors.”

“But I’m not there. I’m here.” Penelope stretches her legs out and leisurely stands up, all the while still casting that endlessly amused gaze in Josie’s direction.

That’s the thing about Penelope. She never seems to be without that playful snarkiness that has caused Josie too much stress over the past two months. She never realizes the effect she has; instead, she revels in her ability to stir annoyance out of everyone she meets. Josie wouldn’t put it past Penelope to get purposefully locked out of her apartment just to piss her off.

Josie feels her jaw clench. “Then go downstairs,” she says. “Be someone else’s problem.”

“Am I a problem to you, Jojo? That hurts,” Penelope says as she lets Josie’s words roll off. For someone locked out of their house, she is entirely too nonchalant about it. “All I’m asking is to borrow your phone. Just that one little thing.”

“Nothing is just anything with you,” Josie retorts. “Why did you come here? You know I’m in the E.R pretty much all day.” She stops and scrutinizes Penelope’s state of dress suddenly, takes in the rumpled sweatshirt and black jeans, takes in the slightly messy eyeliner around her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting here all night.”

Penelope shrugs airily. “I’ve only been here an hour or two,” she says.

Josie tries not to think about why Penelope is awake at 2 a.m. She fails. “Classy,” she mutters. “And you decided to end your walk of shame at my apartment?”

“Like I said.” Penelope tilts her head to the side, unfazed. “I’m in a bind.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“What, am I not allowed to miss you?” Penelope asks. Just…says it like that, with another shrug as if it’s the most average thing in the world. When Josie’s heart thumps dangerously fast in her chest—when her mouth almost falls slack—Penelope’s mouth twists into a sardonic smirk. “Think, Josie. Why else would I be here? You’re the only one who would be awake at this time. So really, I’m here because I have to be. Not because I want to.”

Asshole. “Whatever,” Josie says. She’s too embarrassed about her lapse in judgement—too embarrassed to have almost felt something—and so she gives up. She unlocks her front door and casts an impatient look at her ex to say, “I’m only letting you in because I’m a decent person, you know.”

“I’m blushing,” Penelope says wryly.

Josie immediately shows her to the landline she hardly uses herself. Then, because she can’t handle another second in Penelope’s company, excuses herself to go change. She feels slightly better once she’s out of scrubs, face free of makeup (not that she uses much on E.R. days to begin with), and with a warm sweater over her shoulders.

Her mood, however, does not improve; when she reenters the living room Penelope is poking at the phone. As in, not making an effort to call anyone.

“Do you not know how a phone works, or something?” Josie asks. She gravitates towards the kitchen, unthinkingly starting up the coffee machine. Caffeine is the last thing she needs, but muscle memory reminds her that after a night out Penelope always needs at least two cups to get over her burgeoning hangover.

“Your phone says it’s disconnected,” Penelope says. “See?” She holds the phone out as if Josie’s even close enough to take it.

“Okay, maybe I forgot that,” Josie admits. She pours water into the coffee maker and accidentally spills a fourth of it. “Fine, here. Use my cell phone.” And leave, she adds in her head. Out loud she’ll settle for passive-aggressive smiling.

Penelope makes herself comfortable in Josie’s kitchen. Sure, she’s been here before. Many times, actually. But Josie resents how easily Penelope handles this, simply strolling into her ex’s apartment like there aren’t any painful emotions lingering. How can she do that? How can she sit at Josie’s table—a table they used to have dinner dates over—and be unaffected?

If she were meaner she’d call Penelope heartless. But she also knows that wouldn’t be true.

“You have two texts from someone named Jeffrey,” Penelope announces. “Hot Valentine’s day plans?”

“Are you kidding me? Don’t snoop through my phone!” Josie snaps. “Jesus, do you not have boundaries?”

Penelope remains unapologetic. “I didn’t read the texts, did I?” she says. After a few more taps and angry silence (on Josie’s part), Penelope must think better of it. “Look, I’m sorry. It was just an observation.” Hell must’ve froze over to cause Penelope to say sorry for once. Josie, admittedly, is caught a bit off-guard.

But she doesn’t try to decipher what the apology means. Josie refocuses on the coffee, lets the sound of it dripping into the pot be the only one in the room, and does not think about Penelope Park. The task, however, is a short one, and after a few minutes the coffee is done. Josie begrudgingly pours two cups.

“Is the super not answering?” she asks, uninterested, pretending as if she, too, is unaffected by the position they’re in. She also places the second cup of coffee in front of Penelope.

Penelope briefly eyes it with surprise before she takes a sip. She’s always been partial to black coffee—something Josie never understood. “No,” she replies. “Guess you’re out of luck for those Valentine’s plans.”

Josie scoffs. “Is that some roundabout way of asking if I’m seeing someone?” She protectively wraps her hands around her mug, trying not to scowl against its rim. “Because that would be none of your business.”

“Mm, is that your way of saying you’re still letting Lizzie call dibs on all the boys you like?” Penelope is too smug to be on the cusp of a hangover. Josie hopes it’ll hit her any minute.

“Lizzie can’t call dibs on the girls,” Josie says, hoping that hurts Penelope somewhat. If it does, Penelope doesn’t show it.

She only nods. “Fair enough,” Penelope says. “So how is that soul-sucking sister of yours doing?”

A sudden rush of cold washes over Josie’s body. The exhaustion from earlier returns tenfold; she feels it sag her shoulders, feels it twist her mouth into a frown. “Let’s not,” she decides. “I don’t want to do the whole—update each other on our lives thing. We’re not friends.”

“Sure.” Penelope leans back against the kitchen chair, about as casual as ever. “Whatever you want, Josie.”

Something about it feels like a brush-off. Josie clears her throat. “Well, I’m...kind of tired from the hospital,” she says. “So maybe you should try finding somewhere to stay the night.”

“Right.” Penelope sets down her coffee. “I guess I’m overstaying my welcome.” Nothing in her voice shows that she’s wavering, but the joy of tormenting Josie (as she very much likes to do) seems to have dimmed in her eyes. “Thanks for letting me try the super.” She shrugs on that leather jacket—the one Josie used to love on her—and stands up. “I’ll try Hope’s place. See if she’s awake.”

“Good luck,” Josie says. The taste of her sweet coffee is unusually bitter on her tongue.

Penelope makes it about three steps to the door before she turns back around. “You know, for the record,” she says. “Whatever you think happened to me tonight, you’re wrong.”

Josie should just shrug it off, pretend that she never thought anything. But an ugly jealousy rears its head all the same. “You mean you weren’t off celebrating your own Valentine’s Day plans?” she says curtly.

“No,” says Penelope. “I was actually at a bar.”

“How predictable,” Josie mutters, knowing just how much Penelope loves her bars. Really, she knows it’s all about the women.

“It was our bar,” Penelope clarifies. There is something heavy in her voice—no longer is she cruel, no longer is she taunting. There’s a hint of vulnerability there.

But Josie doesn’t look up from the table. “Sounds fun,” she says. “Can you please go, now? I need to go to sleep.”

Penelope sucks in a breath loud enough for Josie to hear. “Yeah,” she says, at last. “Yeah, I’m going.”

When the front door quietly shuts, Josie exhales. She finally lifts her head and stares at where Penelope was just sitting, stares at the still-steaming mug of black coffee opposite hers, and is struck with the realization that this makes the first time in two months that she has spent more than five minutes alone with Penelope Park.

And it’s just then that she realizes her sweater—that warm, comforting sweater she changed into—is Penelope’s.

The first thing she thinks is that jerk was probably smirking at me because of this. The second is shit, why am I not over the devil incarnate?

It occurs to Josie that she could just make a run for the door and call Penelope back. She could wait to see if that hesitation on Penelope’s part means something good, or whether it’s simply some nostalgic feeling that is stirring up because she’s inebriated. But she has never been a brave person; that was always Lizzie’s thing. In the end she does nothing.

In the end she falls asleep on the couch—still wearing Penelope’s sweater, and clutching an ice-cold mug in her hands.

[superfreakerz]

TDDUP 16

"Til Death Do Us Part"

Rated M for eventual smut and heavy themes.

Immortal/Reincarnation AU.

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Read earlier chapters on FF.net

Chapter 16

Play Date

The next two days went by in the blink of an eye, now only a week from Halloween. Lucy frowned as she rummaged through her closet, looking for anything she can turn into a costume. She hadn't dressed up for Halloween in ages.

"I can't do anything with this," the girl said, planting her hands on her hips. She didn't know why she bothered checking her closet. It wasn't like she knew how to sew, so making her costume wasn't even an option in the first place. She would just have to buy something. And considering that Halloween was in a week, she figured all of the good costumes were probably sold out.

"What am I going to do?" Lucy whined. Even though she didn't care about winning the contest that Erza was hosting, she still wanted to have a nice costume and take pictures with everyone else.

"What're you complainin' about now, Luce?" a sudden voice rang from behind.

Lucy squealed, jumping away from the boy. Having yet to turn to face him, her face was set ablaze, her heart crashing around in her chest. Ever since they sort of confessed to each other on Monday, they hadn't talked about it at all. They acted the same way around each other, joking and bickering as more than friends but less than lovers. At times, Lucy's feelings would be too overwhelming, and her face would explode with heat and she'd have to excuse herself. But for the most part, things were normal between them.

Mustering her courage, Lucy finally turned to face the boy, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. She was too nervous.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop breaking in here!" she shouted, throwing a punch at him.

Natsu caught her wrist with ease before her fist could make contact with him. He smiled down at her, mischief dancing in his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you to lock your window?"

Lucy was about to retort when she noticed their close proximity. Jumping away, she crossed her arms. "W-Whatever."

"So what're you worrying about this time?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. There's only a week until Halloween and I still don't have a costume yet!"

"Who cares? I don't either. I'm not gonna dress up."

Lucy gasped, her face growing pale and her eyes widening. "You're going to defy Erza's orders? You're dumber than I thought!"

"Shut up!" Natsu replied, glaring at her. "Why do you care so much about Halloween anyways?"

"I don't, but it'll be fun dressing up together, don't you think?"

"Not really."

"Oh, hush! It'll be fun! Which is why you better dress up too!"

"But Luuucy!"

"No buts! You're going to dress up! Now help me decide what I should be for Halloween!"

"The devil. You're already pretty close to it."

A vein ticked in the girl's forehead as she bashed Natsu upside the head. "Maybe I should dress up as an idiot. Hey, can I borrow your coat for my costume?"

"Oho? That actually sounds like a fun idea!" Natsu exclaimed. "Let's go dressed up as each other!"

"What? That's weird!"

"It's hilarious!"

Lucy cupped her chin in thought. She had wanted to dress up provocatively for Halloween and show off her assets a bit, but this idea could be fun. And the thought of seeing Natsu in her clothes was too good to pass up. It wasn't like she had anything better planned.

"Okay, fine!" Lucy said. Going through her closets, she got one of her regular outfits, a blue miniskirt and a white vest with a blue cross in the center. "This is what you're going to wear then!"

"Alright. And you'll wear what I'm wearing now!" he replied, gesturing to his outfit, the one that he wore nearly every day and she found herself washing for him almost every night. With that, everything was settled, and they were ready for Halloween.

"So what are your plans for today?" Lucy asked.

The boy arched a brow. "Whatever you wanna do. I figured we could watch a movie or something."

"I can't. I'm actually going to hang out with Levy-chan today."

"Whaaat? What am I supposed to do?"

"Hang out with everyone else at Fairy Tail?"

Natsu huffed, crossing his arms with a pout. "They're not as interesting as you, though."

Lucy would've became a blushing mess from that had she not been running a little late. "Interesting or not, I gotta go. I'm already late enough as it is."

"Can I at least walk you? Where are you guys supposed to meet up?"

"I guess you can. And we're meeting up at the smoothie shop for old time's sake!"

With that, the two were out the door and on the bustling streets of Magnolia. It was a pretty busy day, despite being Thursday. Everyone was out of the house, probably enjoying the sun, which had rarely made an appearance that autumn.

Natsu eyed Lucy's hand dangling at her side. Ever since they confessed, things were surprisingly normal. He figured that things would start to change between them, but instead, nothing happened. Was he supposed to start these sort of things? He was the one to confess first, wasn't it her turn to make a move? Or was it always the guy's responsibility?

Natsu didn't have a clue. Everything was so new to him, he was just winging it at this point. Slowly moving his hand towards hers, his fingers brushed against her hand before he got too nervous. Withdrawing, he acted as if nothing happened, ignoring the piercing gaze he could feel on the side of his face.

With pink cheeks and widened eyes, Lucy stared at Natsu. She had felt his hand brush against hers- she knew for a fact it was his hand and not just her imagination playing tricks on her because of how warm it was. Was it an accident? Or was he actually trying to hold her hand?

She hoped it was the latter.

The girl eyed his hand. It was larger than her own. Tanner, too. Swallowing thickly, she quickly reached out and grabbed his hand, her face blazing red. She could practically feel steam bellowing out of her ears in embarrassment as she prayed her hand didn't start to sweat. Feeling Natsu tense, she glanced at his face to find him blushing as well. He was also nervous.

But he didn't pull away.

A small smile crept over the girl's face, her heart beating so fast, it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Now feeling more confident, she laced her fingers with his.

They walked in a content silence, both distracted by the fact that they were holding hands. That is, until Natsu spoke.

"Your hand is sweaty," he teased, smirking at her.

Lucy's blush deepened as she swatted at him. "N-No it isn't! That's your hand!"

"Psh, no way. That's all you."

"How would you know!?"

"You're the weird one, so it makes sense."

Lucy pouted in annoyance and muttered, "It's not my fault I'm nervous."

This piqued Natsu's interest. "You're nervous?"

"Yeah. Aren't you?"

"No way."

Lucy studied the boy's face, noticing the pink dusting his cheeks and the way he avoided eye contact. An amused grin spread over her face. "Liar."

"Shut up," he grumbled, nudging her. "It's not my fault. Never done this sorta thing before."

"I thought you said you've held hands with a girl before?"

"Well yeah, but this is my first time holdin' hands with some I actually… Ehh, forget it."

Lucy stared at the pavement, no longer able to look in Natsu's direction. Her face was red enough as it was, looking at him would only make it worse. He didn't need to finish his sentence. She already knew what he was going to say.

Reaching the smoothie shop, Lucy couldn't help but feel a tad bit disappointed. This was the first time they addressed their feelings since that one night- as roundabout a way as it was, it still counted. Still, she knew that Levy was waiting inside for her, and she couldn't just ditch her to hang out with Natsu. She promised herself she would never be that sort of girl that just abandons her friends for a boy.

Lucy stared at their joined hands for a moment before meeting Natsu's gaze. She could still see some lingering pink on his cheeks but chose not to point it out. She knew that this was a lot for him too.

"I have to go now," Lucy said. Smiling, she continued, "Thanks for walking me here."

"Don't mention it," he replied, his lips curling into a face-splitting grin. "Have fun with Levy."

"You try to have fun with Gray and the others too. Bye, Natsu."

"Later, Lucy."

They stood still for another moment, neither wanting to be the one to pull away first. Lucy was glad that Natsu eventually drew back his hand, knowing that she wasn't going to be able to do so. Yet at the same time, she found herself immediately missing the warmth of his palm against hers.

They waved to each other before Lucy entered the smoothie shop, taking a deep breath to calm herself down before approaching Levy. Once she felt like her heart wasn't going to burst out of her chest, she surveyed the shop, looking for a head of blue.

What she found instead caused her eyes to bug out of their sockets and her jaw to drop to the floor.

Sitting at their signature table was none other than Gajeel, his black hair as unruly as ever. A scowl was plastered to his face, his burly arms crossed over his chest.

"H-Hey, Gajeel," Lucy awkwardly greeted, standing by the table. She didn't want to sit down in front of him, knowing that it'd tick him off. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," the boy replied, his crimson eyes piercing her own. "Levy texted me, telling me to meet her here."

"What? She texted me the same thing. Does that mean she wants to hang out with both of us?"

Gajeel sighed, shaking his head. "It means the shrimp trapped us here. She ain't coming."

"Oh," Lucy replied, not knowing what else to say. So, Levy had sent them to the smoothie shop to hang out, probably in an attempt to better their relationship. It made sense. Her friend was more dubious than she thought, setting them up in a play date. "Well, uhh, I can just go if you want. We can just tell Levy-chan that we both came and hung out for a bit."

"What's the point in that? We're already here, might as well just go with it."

Lucy's brows rose as she studied the boy sitting in front of her. With the scowl on his face, his crossed arms, and the way he refused to look at her, it was clear that he wasn't really comfortable with the idea and was only doing it for Levy. Still, he'd come a long way since she'd first met him. She had no doubt in her mind that the Gajeel before would've just cursed at her before storming out of the shop.

Her relationship with Gajeel had improved a lot since she first met him. They weren't really on a talking basis, but he no longer sulked like a pouting child the entire time she was in his presence. In fact, he acted like himself around the others. He even gave her a nickname, Bunny Girl. That had to be good, right?

"Alright, let me go order a drink so that we aren't loitering," Lucy said. "Do you want anything?"

"Nah."

Lucy went up to the counter by herself, ordering her normal strawberry-banana smoothie. Glancing back at Gajeel, she decided she'd get him a drink anyways. She would've felt bad sipping away at her drink while he had nothing. Not knowing what he'd like, she ordered the same drink Levy usually ordered, a green apple smoothie.

The boy at the counter blushed while charging her for the items. He even tried to start up a conversation between the two of them, to which Lucy only indulged him in to be polite. But once he asked her for her number, she shut him down quickly, thanking him for the drinks before heading back to Gajeel.

Gajeel arched a brow, noticing the encounter.

"What'd that guy want?" he asked, noticing the second smoothie she bought and slid towards him. He muttered a word of thanks, so quietly he hoped she hadn't heard it.

To his dismay, Lucy did hear him. A smile spread over her face as she felt progress was being made between them. "Nothing, really. He was asking for my number and I told him I'm not interested."

Gajeel gave her a teasing smirk, one that she'd never seen him use on her. "Oh yeah? Because you're into Salamander, huh?"

Lucy became a sputtering mess as she choked on her drink. Her cheeks turned pink for the umpteenth time that day. "W-What are you talking about!? I don't- I'm not- You've got it wrong!"

"Yeah, yeah. Save it. Everyone knows you two like each other. It's disgusting."

"Gee, thanks."

"And I saw you two holdin' hands outside when you got here."

"Y-You saw that!? That wasn't us holding hands! We were, umm, we were just-!"

Gajeel covered his ears with his hands, glaring at her. "Do you hafta be so damn loud? Like I said, ain't no use denying it. So? You guys together now or what?"

Lucy glanced away in embarrassment, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like I'd tell you. I haven't even told Levy-chan yet."

"Just spit it out already. It'll make the time go by quicker."

"No, we aren't together. At least, I don't think we are."

"You don't think you are? How do you not know?"

Lucy fidgeted in her seat. "Well, we sorta confessed to each other. But since then, we haven't really brought it up. And he never asked me to be his girlfriend, so I assumed that means we aren't together."

"You guys confessed? Did you do it first? Natsu's too much of a wimp to confess."

Lucy arched a brow. "You know, you're more into this gossip stuff than I thought you'd be."

Gajeel glared at her. "Shut up, woman!"

The girl laughed, feeling much more comfortable around the boy than before. "For your information, Natsu confessed first."

"I feel like I'm gonna barf just thinking 'bout Salamander confessing to anyone."

"Well, it was sweet to me. But now I don't know how I'm supposed to act around him. Us holding hands just now was the first time we actually acted on our feelings. Other than that, we've been acting the same as normal. Did you and Levy-chan have this problem when you first got together?"

"Not really," Gajeel answered, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "We kinda acted on our feelings first before makin' it official too, but we never had problems actin' on it. It just happened."

"Were you always the one to make the move?"

"Nah. Levy did too sometimes. And knowing Natsu, you're gonna have to make the first move a lot. He doesn't know what he's doing."

"I don't either!"

"Then I guess you guys are screwed," Gajeel said with his typical gihi laugh.

Lucy laid her head against the table. "I wish this wasn't so complicated."

"Just gotta get past the confusing part, then it'll be normal."

"You know, you're also more helpful than I thought you'd be."

"Shut up."

"So, how are you and Levy-chan?" Lucy asked, sipping on her drink. She was eager to steer the conversation from her relationship with Natsu.

Gajeel gave a simple reply. "Good."

"That's it? Good? I just poured out my heart and soul, and that's all you're going to give me?"

"I don't know! What do you want me to say!?"

"I don't know either! But no one-worded replies!"

Gajeel rolled his eyes. "We're just good. Nothin' new."

"Well? When are you going to propose?"

This time, Gajeel was the one choking on his drink and becoming a sputtering mess.

"W-What the hell are you talkin' about!?" he shouted, not caring about the way people looked at him.

Lucy laughed at his rosy cheeks. That was a side of him she'd never seen before. She was only joking, but grew curious about the matter from his reaction. "Well, you guys have been together for a long time, from what I hear. And I know you guys love each other. Have you ever thought about taking it to the next level? Maybe after graduation?"

Gajeel crossed his arms and averted his gaze. "Yeah, I thought about it, alright?"

"Well? Thoughts?"

"I'm waitin' for the right time."

"Which is when?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Wait, if you're waiting for the right time, does that mean you already have a ring ready?" Lucy asked, her eyes wide. Gajeel's blush deepened, giving her the answer she needed. "Oh my gosh! You bought a ring!? This is real! My best friend is getting married!"

"Shut up!" Gajeel replied, slapping a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. "And no I didn't buy no damn ring! I made one myself."

"You made one?"

"Yeah. I'm into making stuff. I mainly work with metal, so I decided to make one."

"Do you have it with you? Can I see it?"

Gajeel reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, wooden box. Opening it, he revealed a metallic ring, its sides carved in a twirling pattern. The inside of the ring had the words 'By your side, forever' engraved onto it. There wasn't a big jewel, or any jewel for that matter, but Lucy knew that Levy was going to love the ring. It was handcrafted by the man she loved. That was all her friend would need.

"It's beautiful, Gajeel," Lucy breathed out, running her finger over the smooth material. When he said he made the ring, she was expecting the edges to be a little rough, but they weren't. It was clear he put a lot of time and energy into making it perfect for his girlfriend. A warm smile spread over her lips as she imagined him proposing to Levy. "I'm already so happy for you guys."

"Yeah, so you better not go and ruin the surprise," Gajeel said, shoving the ring back in his pocket. Giving her a look that could freeze all of hell, he continued, "If you tell a soul about this, I will hunt you down. You better not even tell Natsu."

"I won't, I won't!" Lucy assured, putting her hands up in surrender. It'd been a while since he looked at her so harshly.

"Good," he replied, his features going back to normal. "Anyways, I'm outta here. Talkin' about you and Salamander's relationship made me feel sick. Now I hafta go throw it up outta me."

Lucy sighed. "Yeah, yeah." Figuring he was going to go hang out with Levy, she continued, "Tell Levy-chan I said hi. And that I want a real hangout between the two of us soon!"

Gajeel nodded, giving a small wave before leaving. Smiling, Lucy sipped away at her drink. Now, she could easily consider Gajeel a friend of hers.

Arriving at her apartment, Lucy was surprised to find Natsu sitting on her bed, reading her journal. Marching towards the boy, she snatched it out of his hands before bashing him upside the head.

"What are you doing here, Natsu? I thought you were going to hang out with the others?" she asked, shoving her journal away.

"I was," the boy said with a shrug. "But then when I got to Fairy Tail, I saw Levy sittin' with everyone else. I asked her why she wasn't with you, then she told me her plan of getting you and that metal mouth, Gajeel, closer. So, how was hanging out with that bastard?"

"It was actually pretty fun," Lucy answered with a smile. "I think we're slowly becoming close friends!"

"You actually wanna be friends with that guy?"

"Don't act as if he isn't one of your best friends. I don't get what's with you boys and your fake hatred for each other when in reality, you guys love each other. You guys should be like us girls. We love and appreciate each other and we don't bother hiding it."

Natsu rolled his eyes. "I'd rather get stuck on a train."

"Pathetic. Well, I'll let you pick out a movie for us to watch while I start making dinner. I'm starving."

"Yosh!"

About fifteen minutes later, they were ready to start watching. Natsu had picked out a comedy movie while she made them some spaghetti. Turning off the lights, she sat beside him on the couch while the movie started to play.

Within the first five minutes of the movie, tears were already streaming down their faces with how much they were laughing. They spent more time laughing then they did eating. Lucy enjoyed hearing Natsu laugh. It matched his personality perfectly in her eyes.

When she finally finished her food, Lucy put her plate over Natsu's on the coffee table in front of them. Then, she leaned back into the couch before noticing the space between her and Natsu. She wanted the close the space between them, but was nervous. Last time she leaned against him while watching a movie, they were watching a horror movie, so it made sense. This time, it would be obvious she was doing it to be closer to him.

Her mind reeled back to her conversation with Gajeel earlier.

"Knowing Natsu, you're gonna have to make the first move a lot. He doesn't know what he's doing."

Lucy couldn't believe she was about to take Gajeel's advice. Still, she wanted to make progress with Natsu, and she felt that closing the space between them while watching a movie was a good start. With flushed cheeks and a heart that was beating wildly in her chest, the girl scooted towards Natsu and slowly began to lean onto his side. His warmth washed over her in seconds as she snuggled closer to him.

Lucy felt Natsu tense, which made her a bit nervous. Luckily, his body relaxed soon enough and to Lucy's surprise, he wrapped his arm around Lucy, playing with the tips of her hair. A happy smile spread over her lips as she focused on the movie again.

Once the first movie ended, they decided to watch another one. This one was also a comedy, but wasn't nearly as funny.

Lucy's eyes started to feel heavy, unable to pay attention to the movie anymore. With her head resting on Natsu's shoulder and his fingers playing with her hair, she couldn't help but let slumber take hold her. In seconds, she was dozing off.

Natsu could tell Lucy had fallen asleep by the way her breathing had grown louder. Not wanting to wake her up, he didn't bother moving her to the bed. Instead, he stayed with her in that position, no longer paying attention to the movie.

His eyes trailed over Lucy's face, studying every feature. Her long lashes, her cute nose, and her pink, plump lips. They'd been trying new things lately, he couldn't help but wonder if kissing was going to be one of them.

He hoped so.

It felt weird to think about doing those sort of things with Lucy, but it was also exciting. He could never picture himself doing any of this with any other girl, but with Lucy, he found himself welcoming the thoughts, as weird as they were.

He was glad that they were making progress that day. Maybe someday soon, he'd have the courage to officially take it to the next level.

As he started to feel tired himself, Natsu thought about moving Lucy to the bed and then going back to Fairy Tail. Ever since they confessed, he hadn't spent the night at her place, not wanting to unknowingly pressure her into anything weird.

Gently picking Lucy up princess-style, he laid her onto the bed and covered her with the blanket. His lips curled into a smile as he gazed at her. The moonlight that peeked through the curtains and washed over her face made her look angelic.

"Night, Lucy," the boy whispered, turning to go home when he felt a hand encircle his wrist.

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he found Lucy peeking up at him through half-lidded eyes, a blush staining her cheek as she held onto his wrist.

"Stay," she whispered, lighting a fire within him. "Don't go."

Natsu swallowed thickly, fire coursing through his veins as he nodded. Lifting the blanket, he situated himself underneath it, right beside Lucy, who was definitely feeling more confident being half-awake as she hugged him, her chest pressed against his side. Her head was resting over his arm, and his fingers moved on their own to play with her hair.

Feeling Lucy pressed against him was everything Natsu didn't know he needed. He usually had trouble falling asleep, but holding Lucy in his arms and also being held in hers, his eyes were closed in seconds. With their hearts beating in sync, they fell asleep together, hoping that it'd be like this every night.

[karinrumi]

Gambler of Feelings - Chapter 13

Title: Gambler of Feelings.

Status: Ongoing.

Rated: T. 

Wordcount: 2, 896

MY MASTERLIST 

This chapter is with a special dedication for anakrlns that helped when I was confused while using Tumblr. Once again thank you for helping me out!

Two weeks passed away as well seasons changed. It was now winter, which left Shikadai usually in the grumpy mood. He always disliked snow, since unlike Boruto he found walking on it really annoying. If Shikadai would be an animal, he would for sure prefer to go into sleep hibernation and not doing anything during the winter at all.

However, his conversation with Sumire made him think about talking with Boruto. Boruto that was currently defending himself from a crowd of fangirls. His main reason for forgetting Boruto popularity was caused by seeing him often either at the club or Sarada's house, of course not counting classes.

It was a pain in the ass, but visiting Sarada's house with the entire club helped them a lot with preparations for the upcoming Sport Festival. If everything goes smoothly they should end preparing everything during this week and allow themselves to laze around afterwards.

In a short summary of events, winter, his past love and talking to Boruto was the last thing he wanted to do. Turning into the animal in order to hibernate on the other hand was taking the first place in the things he wanted to do right now.

When walking through school corridors the crowds of students chattering, running to their lockers and being excited about upcoming winter break would nearly squish him like a bug on the way. Great. Shikadai personally thought he somehow managed to survive walking through to his locker due to him being lazy and too much sleepy to care about squeaking Boruto fangirls.

Shikadai thanks to recent events almost forgot that his childhood friend is Mr. Popular guy in their school. Young Nara always was thinking that popularity is too much trouble to deal with and it's better to have a nap than being worshipped.

It wasn't a subject that Shikadai wanted to initiate considering his role in the whole story, but Sumire being mad at him again would be too much troublesome to deal with.

"Hey, Boruto." Shikadai couldn't help feeling sleepy and yawned. The few female students around Boruto sent to him a nasty stare. It seemed that Boruto didn't care about surrounding them girls and instead waved to him with a big plastered smile on his face.

"Yo, Shikadai! Thanks for the rescue!" Boruto said feeling relieved. Yeah, he was an attention seeker, but being the source of attention this morning was really overwhelming for him.

"No problem. Can we talk about something?" Shikadai emerald eyes expressed his annoyance with Boruto fangirls, which were spying on them behind the lockers.

"Sure, what's up?" Boruto response was causal as ever, but Shikadai knew his happy-go-lucky expression will soon change.

"It's about Asami. Sumire wants to know what happened between her and us that day. Can I tell her the truth?" Boruto expression just like he excepted changed. His bright smile disappeared and it was enough to scare some of the fangirls still hiding behind the lockers.

"It's fine if Sumire will know the truth, ya know? I figured out it would've come up sooner or later." Bortuo voice slightly cracked and he looked down on the floor. That's why Shikadai was avoiding talking about it until now.

"Is it really?" Shikadai raised his left eyebrow, not believing in what Boruto said at all. His childhood friend was a really good actor, but this time it was easy to notice that he was lying.

"It is, ya know? Personally, I don't feel comfortable talking about it, but if you do... Feel free to tell Sumire whatever you want." Although the conversation itself was unpleasant, at least Shikadai got permission to talk about it with Sumire. It was rare for young Nara to see his friend that depressed just by mentioning someone else's name. Winter sucked.

"Please, go out with me!" The gloomy mood was broken by the shout of the girl standing behind the locker, while other fangirls looked at her with a mix of anger and jealousy. The girl ignored them and hugged Boruto when she noticed he let his guard down.

Shikadai found the way she threw herself onto Boruto really disturbing but decided to leave them alone.

"Shikadai, help me!" Young Nara ignored the words of his friend and decided to go to the classroom. He had a lot of things to think about, especially how he wasn't the biggest fan of the snow for example.

It was strange like things changed during last year. Asami wasn't here anymore, but it helped him to form a better contact with Sumire. On the other Boruto started to be more distant from him as a friend. However the fact Shikadai disliked winter didn't change at all.

"Traitor!" Boruto scream echoed throughout the whole school.

Chō-Chō during the past two weeks was avoiding Sumire as well Mitsuki. She wanted to rewind time and never realise her own feelings in that matter. It seemed Sumire knew something was off with Chō-Chō behaviour but decided not to mention it to anyone.

"Good morning, Chō-Chō." Sumire appeared behind her like a ghost, so Chō-Chō jumped from being startled.

"S-Sumire! Don't scare me like that. I know everybody loves me, but scaring isn't a good way to win me over!" Sumire probably found her words funny but decided to ignore them for the time being.

"I didn't see you in a while, but it seems you're the same old Chō-Chō. That's a relief." Chō-Chō started to wonder when Sumire learned to use sarcasm.

"I don't know if you're insulting or praising me, but I will take it as a compliment." Chō-Chō answer lacked her usual positivity and she was cursing herself for not being composed. She wished at that moment to turn into Sarada and stay composed, even if her feelings were currently one big mess.

"Chō-Chō, can I ask you something?" Sumire asked in a serious tone of voice.

"S-sure, you can always ask me anything!" Chō-Chō replied, but she knew that she will regret her words soon. After all, she suspected why Sumire wanted to talk with her.

"Good. I will be really straightforward. Do you love Mitsuki?" Sumire violet eyes as well posture didn't show any hesitation. Chō-Chō always thought about her as the timid girl, but in this precise moment was admiring Sumire confidence in expressing her feelings.

"Y-yeah, I probably do." Chō-Chō stuttered. Her words lacked the same confidence, which Sumire had when she asked this question.

However, Sumire instead of laughing or mocking her insecurity fell silent. After a minute her friend just nodded like the answer she heard was something completely natural.

"I see, so you already know that you have feelings for Mitsuki. It took you longer than I thought it would." Sumire comment made Chō-Chō really surprised.

"Do you love Mitsuki too, Sumire?" Chō-Chō gulped. She should know the answer. After all, she overheard Shikadai talking with Sumire about her crush on Mitsuki. But hearing the direct answer from Sumire was much more important to Chō-Chō than making blind guesses, or false assumptions.

"Yes, I do. That's why I asked if you love him. I thought it would be unfair to confess my feelings to Mitsuki without knowing your feelings. I wouldn't care if some other girl had feelings for him, but unlike the other girls, you're my friend, Chō-Chō. And that makes you special, you know?" Sumire words reached her heart. It was the first time where another girl her age called her a friend and it wasn't Sarada.

"Heh. That's very nice of you, but why bother talking with me? I thought you think of me as the rival in love, correction awesome rival in love!" Chō-Chō words started to be cheerful again. It was like a huge boulder in her heart was lifted after hearing out how Sumire feels.

"It seems you're better at reading my intentions than I thought, Chō-Chō. I still plan to confess my feeling to Mitsuki during the winter break, you know?!" Sumire sighed seeing an overly happy reaction of her friend.

"So I will confess my feelings for Mitsuki during the winter break too! No hard feelings if he chooses me, kay?" Sumire couldn't bring herself to hate Chō-Chō, even if her words annoyed her.

"Uwahwahwah! Not so fast miss Akimichi! There is a chance he will choose me or reject both of us. In the scenario where he rejects us we should date each other!" Sumire joked and Chō-Chō laughed.

"I know, I know captain, Sumire! You tried to tell me that no matter what happens we will still be friends, right?! It's such a roundabout way, but I'm used to it thanks to Sarada."

The laughter and joking accompanied them on their way to the school.

Sarada was walking alone through the crowd of students and met by accident Boruto who tried to escape from hugging him girl. She decided to ignore the fact that Mitsuki was hiding behind the school lockers together with other Boruto's fangirls. It was too much for her to deal with in the morning.

"Y-Yo, Sarada, how are you doing?!" Boruto tried to use his puppy dog eyes on Sarada, but it didn't have any effect on her.

"..." The silence was the only answer Sarada could come up with. She decided to look at the girl, which was hugging Boruto.

"Waaah! Ice queen of our school is here!" The girl shouted, stopped holding Boruto and ran to the classroom.

Boruto whistled impressed with how just one stare could have this sort of effect on others.

"You're really annoying," Sarada said feeling upset that other students ran away from her too. She only looked at them!

"I know. By the look of it you aren't really a sociable person, ya know?" Boruto gave Sarada an amused look.

"Hnn." Sarada decided to ignore annoying blond and don't tell Boruto about Mitsuki stalking him behind the lockers to have her small revenge. She was a perfectly sociable person and was able to talk with people! Probably.

"Hey, where are you going?!" Boruto asked when she directed her footsteps to the classroom.

"To the classroom." It was all she said before school bell started to ring.

Lessons ended, so Sarada headed to the clubroom. It seemed Sumire was the only other person here.

"Good afternoon, Sarada." Sumire answer was really energetic.

"Good afternoon, where are the other members?" Sarada considered this question as part of her daily routine. She still didn't believe how the past few weeks changed her life.

"Boruto is talking with a teacher, Chō-Chō said she will be late, Shikadai is currently at the director office and Mitsuki should be here soon," Sumire explained why the other club members were currently absent.

"Thank you." Sarada blurted out those words by accident.

"For what?" Sumire asked really confused by the sudden expression of gratitude coming from Sarada.

"For not judging me due to the rumours and my surname." Sarada thought she would die from embarrassment while saying it out loud.

"You're so cute, Sarada! Hey, hey, do you like adventures?" Sumire smirked in a teasing manner.

"My dream involves travelling, so yes I really like adventures." Talking about her dreams with a person that wasn't her mother or Chō-Chō was really refreshing feeling for Sarada.

Different. Refreshing. To be honest Sarada kind of like how her school life turned out to be different than she expected.

"Huh, really?! I really like adventures too, so I thought about being an actress, singer or having a job that involves travelling. Up until now I never told anyone about my dream." Sumire admitted to her seriously.

"It's a really amazing dream. I hope you make it true!" Sarada always wanted to hear these words from her mother, since she secretly sought her approval. Sumire eyes lit up and her smile seemed to sparkle more than before.

"In that case, I wish for your dreams to come true as well!" Sumire words were really helpful in making Sarada feel better about her future dreams and goals. She never thought she will meet someone who shares her love for travelling.

"Huff, huff! Sorry for being late!" Chō-Chō shouted while entering the clubroom.

"Chō-Chō, you're actually really early," Sarada whispered rather to herself than to Chō-Chō that walked over and sat on the chair.

"Ehh?! Guys aren't here yet! It makes me question why I was running to the clubroom like a crazy!" Chō-Chō complained to them.

"Because you're Chō-Chō." Sumire chimed in.

"Guys aren't here, so let's talk about them!" Chō-Chō proposed and Sumire agreed with her leaving Sarada without any choice, but accepting to talk about boys.

"I will start! What's your type of guy, Sarada?" Sarada coughed hearing the question Sumire asked.

"I don't have a type, but if I had to choose one it would be a guy, which would support my dreams." It was the best answer Sarada could give them.

"Sumire and I have a similar taste in guys, so our type is Mitsuki," Chō-Chō claimed without any hesitation.

Sarada brain froze with the knowledge that Sumire and Chō-Chō liked a guy that during this morning was hiding behind the lockers from Boruto.

"Chō-Chō, I think it was too much for Sarada to take in. After all, Mitsuki has... Interesting hobbies to say at least." Sumire didn't sound surprised seeing how Sarada reacted in comparison to Chō-Chō.

"We must probably change the subject since Sarada will really start to be the frozen ice queen. Maybe talking about how great I am will help?!" The chō-chō realisation was completely out of place.

"Chō-Chō, I don't think talking about you will stop her from being shocked." Sumire let out a chuckle.

"I'm not shocked!" Sarada defended herself.

"By the way, I didn't ask, but what's your dream, Sarada?" Sumire decided to change the topic to stop Chō-Chō from talking about her delusions.

"I want to be the owner of a travelling casino." Exposing her dream to Sumire was really hard for Sarada. Chō-Chō, on the other hand, knew Sarada dream from the start.

"That's a really awesome dream, ya know!" Boruto suddenly appeared and the girls wondered how long he was in the clubroom.

"You think it's amazing?" Sarada asked Boruto and ignored for a moment that he could overhear their entire conversation.

"I do, ya know! You should talk with us more often, Sarada!" Boruto words left Sarada speechless.

"I'm not a really talkative person." Sarada stared down on the floor. Chō-Chō and Sumire winked to Boruto in a meaningful way, but the blond was too focused on Sarada to notice it.

"Ya know, did I by accident hurt your feelings by saying you aren't really a sociable person, Sarada? If I did I'm really sorry about that." Boruto voice sounded really calm. Sarada always thought his voice was soothing and is similar to the sound of the sea waves. Sarada liked that sound since it helped her to calm down when she felt frustrated, angry, or sad.

"Apologies accepted," Sarada whispered, but Boruto didn't look satisfied with her response.

"Hey, hey look at me, Sarada! I can't hear you or see your expression." Boruto walked over and was standing in front of her. Sarada lifted her head and looked into his blue eyes.

"Apologies accepted!" The words were the same, but this time she shouted them looking directly at Boruto. Sarada was surprised how loud her voice could sound and her eyes widened by seeing Boruto grin. Does he did it on purpose?!

"See! You can do it if you try, Sarada. I'm so proud of you, ya know." Boruto patted Sarada's head in a caring manner.

"You're really annoying."

"I know and you're the lady, meow, meow, ya know?" Boruto responded and laughed seeing how shocked Sarada was by his words.

"They should get a separate room. I feel like a third wheel." Chō-Chō complained.

"Welcome to the third wheeling club, Chō-Chō" Sumire smiled and felt happy since third-wheeling with a friend was a much more enjoyable than third wheeling alone.

Winter break will come soon and with it a love confession to Mitsuki from both of them. Sumire knew that their relationships depending on Mitsuki answer can change too.

AN:

Hello, everyone! This chapter took me a while to write and I hope ya all enjoyed reading it just like I enjoyed to write fluffy scenes. Just like usual sorry for my potential mistakes in my writing etc. I can't believe we reach soon the plot climax and I want to thank everyone that is supporting this fic.

Thank You, everyone!

Your clumsy author Karinrumi ;)

[ddagent]

Sneak Peek Sunday

Suggested by the amazing @sententiousandbellicose, I present Sneak Peek Sunday. Every week I shall post a snippet from one of my WIPs, whether it’s yet to be finished or just waiting to be edited.

This week’s sneak peek Sunday is from (no longer) on my own. Serena’s car has broken down and she needs to get to Cambridge to see her daughter in a play. Elinor suggests calling Serena’s ex wife - Bernie - for a lift. Enjoy:

The garage had just towed her car away (promising to have it fixed by tomorrow) when Bernie pulled up. Serena stood, jaw slack, as she watched the sleek silver sports car pull into a staff only spot. If Bernie was a man, Serena would have suggested she was compensating for something. Or had indulged in a luxury car rather than a younger woman. Perhaps she is having a midlife crisis. After all, Bernie's life had been the army. To suddenly crash out at fifty-one must have spun her whole world on its axis.

 Not that Serena would ever find out. It had been a long, long time since they had talked about such things.

 "Thanks for this," Serena said as she reached the passenger side door. Bernie had got out, stalled between the driver's side and the bonnet, as if she had come out to open Serena's door for her. "Elinor was adamant I not miss it."

 "It's going to be…something." Bernie said, fiddling with the hair curtaining her ears. "Well, shall we?"

 Serena nodded, opening her door to slide inside. But, before that, she had to clear off the phone charger, copy of The Lancet, and an empty packet of Silk Cut cigarettes that were cluttering the front seat. Ten years later, and Bernie was still a mess. Crumpled sandwich wrapper in the foot well; crumbs and loose change in the open compartments. It had been the same when they were married. Bernie was an advocate of triage in everything from trauma to her personal life: focus on the most important things, and everything else comes second.

 Like cleaning out her car.

 "Sorry," Bernie offered, taking the items Serena had grabbed and tossing them into the glove compartment. Her fingers lingered on the packet of cigarettes. Although Serena had never forced her to quit, it had been one of many fights they had shared over the years. "Sorry."

 "It's fine. Your life." Serena pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. It wasn't as if she would be kissing Bernie any time soon to worry about the taste of smoke and nicotine. Not again. "Shall we go?"

 Bernie flexed her fingers around the steering wheel before she started the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. There were plenty of traffic lights and roundabouts to get through before they got onto the M32. Bernie concentrated on the road; still as confident behind the wheel as ever. Serena found her attention drifting between her phone (Morven keeping her updated on the patient she had seen before she'd left for the day), and Bernie herself. She looked…different. Gone were the blood stained fatigues from her arrival on the stretcher; long and limp hair clinging to her head. She wore a cream coat; the scarf Elinor and Charlotte had picked out for her last birthday. Jeans that looked far too good on a woman in her fifties. Her hair was fluffy and wavy and short.

 Exes were supposed to get worse with time. Not look better.

 "Mind if I put on the radio?" Serena asked, hoping to distract herself with music rather than gaze at her ex-wife all the way to Cambridge.

 "By all means."

 Serena flicked it on; Radio 2 playing a new song by one of the members of One Direction (she shivered involuntarily; memories of Elinor's obsession coming back in full force). She hummed a few bars as Bernie made the turning on the roundabout that would lead them to the motorway. Serena was given a perfect example of how fast Bernie's shiny new sports car could go as they zipped up the slip road.

 Serena frowned. Bernie tapped two fingers against the steering wheel. "Problem?"

 "No, no, none at all." Serena tugged on her seatbelt. "You're the driver."

 "Funny. Couldn't tell with the imaginary break you keep pressing," Bernie said, changing into the middle lane, and then into the right. "You are aware that I have plenty of driving experience, aren't you?"

 "You are aware that the speed limit for a British motorway is seventy, aren't you? And not eighty three?" Serena sighed. "Really, considering your trauma experience—"

 "—the last car accident I was in, Serena, involved an armoured vehicle and an IED. The road is dry, the weather clear. If you wanted to drive so badly, maybe you should have taken your car into the garage before today."

 Serena slumped against the passenger seat. She'd known this was a mistake. Had anticipated that they would barely get out of Holby before they were snapping and sniping at each other like they had in the last few months of their marriage. Ten years of divorce should have rendered them into a companionable silence. But there was still plenty of water under the bridge. Bernie's return into their daughters – into her – life and what that meant for them all. The kiss they had shared before Bernie had gone into lifesaving surgery which neither had discussed since.

 It was going to be a long drive to Cambridge.

[sazzafraz]

All About Music...

So the full playlist is out now. I can’t say I’m very circumspect about what ends up on mine, it’s a combination of inspiration and atmosphere, but here is the basic rundown-

Rise Up (Intro) - Black Flies 

This is the essentials of the first arc which I’ve titled Air. It doesn’t have a very deep theme because it’s actually a left over from the original iteration of this universe. In that next-world-over fic ntfs was split into three parts following each member of Team 7 as they navigated adulthood. Basically everything that happened in the first quarter of this story was the entirety of Sasuke’s part of that one. I think only a few things -the mission in Wave was longer, we covered the mission Sasuke ran with some POW’s, Kabuto played a bigger role- changed when I decided to go this way instead.

It’s not a section I have too many deep insights into because it’s pretty much as it sounds. Rise Up is the momentary freeing of Itachi’s death. Hollow Moon was always primarily about Giri (I’mma make a deal with the bad wolf so the bad wolf don’t bite no more) with a few lines specific to Sasuke (the entire second verse). Dark Horses is literally the original name for this fic and what I was listening to when I wrote the entire first section in one sitting (minus Itachi’s burial scene. I re-wrote that fucker about a half dozen times). Mineshaft was a late comer to the playlist. I like the original better than the one on the playlist but Spotify doesn’t have that one. It’s more of a nod to the see saw of discovering how little you know compared to what you thought. 

Oh Woman, Oh Man and Gravel to Tempo are in this section because it brushes up against the first stirrings of actual agency our protagonist manages in possibly his entire life. Even if the decision is to not kill a child, to leave something hr can’t keep faith in, to travel on his own terms and to wander, not wonder. Small things compared to all the other shit he’s done. I love both of these songs as expressions of trying to figure out love/identity more than a direct correlation to the story. Black Flies is the response to that, and has moved around on this playlist a lot, but I like a less sad interpretation. It’s just acceptance that you’re neither as small or as big as you think.

Send Them Off! - This River Is Wild

I just realised that Rivers In Your Mouth is a few songs higher up then it should be, whoops. 

Send Them Off! is here for that awesome opening. I needed something in the playlist that sort of re-set the tone of the fic. The opening chapter of this arc, Water, is where we met Obito/Tobi/Madara for the first time and he kind of just deserves it. Hurricane is next and it’s a song that I debated about for legit months because it’s a bit much for any playlist to contend with. I put it on because would you kill to save a life is the roundabout question Tobi is trying to ask and Sasuke’s answer is both yes and no. Yes I would but not on your terms. Small Things through to End of the Affair are atmospheric. I love Ben Howard a lot and one of things I most admire is the emotional grip he has on his music. The Crow, What the Water Gave Me, History Has it’s Eyes on You and Queen of Peace actually all cover the same space in the story through Civil Affair.

The Crow is the character song for Sasuke. It is absolutely a corner stone of characterisation. Anger is just love, left out, turned into vinegar should be tattooed on my forehead that’s how much I’ve thought about that line. How could you get a more distilled understanding of this character then that? You wake up a stranger and learn how to live with her. And in the worst winters the whole thing feels untenable. I will point and quote entire sections of this song to prove my point. The version I prefer for this is actually the Castor, The Twin one. I’m not convinced the stripped back thing works for all of them but it takes The Crow to the best version of itself, a fast spoken poem that’s not afraid of itself, nor unkind.

The Lamb, An Act Of Kindness and This River is Wild are for the last chapter where we meet Karin and Sakura again. They don’t have a relationship song because I’ve never found one that says ‘I love you for the best of reasons and still against good judgement’. Nor one that says ‘the only thing I want here is to hurt you less than I already have’. History Has It’s Eyes on You is technically for Karin but has a wider meaning in the universe, so.

The Lamb is on my short list of songs about Itachi and Sasuke. The actual song is about abuse and it’s here on this playlist because I feel there’s a need to address the horror of Itachi’s high handedness (But blood is blood, and it’s beast is a burden). It’s here as a reference to the chapter before when Sasuke steps away from the family blood and the next chapter where he gets stuck again, moored in history he doesn’t know and can’t know, because his brother took that choice from him. I kind of recommend reading the lyrics for the song. 

This River is Wild is both about letting go and coming back around. It’s my song for Kakashi and Sasuke’s weird journey. 

Coda - End Credits

Oh man we aren’t even all of the way through this arc. This one is Fire. Coda is a palette cleanser, kind of just imagine you’re coming home after a long time, you’re in the car looking straight up, not noticing as you get closer and when you look down, bam! There it is. For better or worse. 

I Wanna Get Better is also the quote for this chapter. I miss the days of a life still permanent. In earlier drafts of this fic Sasuke actually had broken through his suicidality and was being a better person by this point. But it’s one of those great I wanna be this person songs, rather than I am this person. Warm Blood to Nothing Where Something Used to Be is allll about Naruto. The playlist of songs about them is too long. 

This is where Rivers In Your Mouth and No One Would Riot for Less come In. Also Limousine by Brand New which seems to have just disappeared off this playlist. I played Limousine three times while reworking the scene where Sasuke finds out what happened to his family. Especially for that end section of the song. No One Would Riot For Less is the aftermath as well as being beautiful in its own right. The ‘who fucking cares’ part of that chapter along with the answer that ‘he does, still, a little.’ Rivers In Your Mouth is a Top Ten song for me and the song for the Naruto and Sasuke relationship in this story. Remember this bit:  And you showed me hope amidst the harlequins in spring And you told me life was learning how to be your friend. As well as the walls he’s been beating himself against trying to come to terms with the world he lives in. 

Come at you from both sides of your mind Thick and thin these Walls you’ll always stand behind Are sick and tired Oh I beg for the world to change But it don’t No it ain't all you and that’s the thing

I love this song. A lot. 

This brings us up to what is published right now. I’ll go fix the songs that have slipped out of place. When we reach the end of the arc I’ll add the rest. 

I hope we’ve all learned about how much thinking about this universe eats my life.  

[stirpulses]

Off the Memory Lane (ft. B.A.P) [Day 2]

The consciousness hit him when he was lying defenseless in the crook of the couch, his left leg brushing the floor, his back aching from the unwonted softness, the clothes, creased and rumpled, biting into his flesh. The air was huffing past his lips in a fast spasmodic rhythm, his heart exerting itself to outrace it with thrice as fast a beat. The nightmare came again, repelling the pills, tricking his body into terror. This time the vision was more focused: he could distinguish a dark human-like silhouette against a huge white structure, the shadow was staring at him with starving covetous hollow eyes, gnashing its fangs with a sickening clang, closer, closer. A piercing wail erupted, crushing all other sounds and images alike. It was screaming out a name, Yongguk, calling for his friend, demanding for him to appear, a desperate cry for help. Mere bawls were not enough to conjure his friend, he knew, oh how bitterly he knew. The nightmare, that had just been dragging for an eternity, appeared for his awakened self to happen in one great convulsion like an outburst of thunder.

How much of the vision he had actually seen and how much he had been implicitly aware of, he wasn’t sure now. The dream logic had directed that odious show, turning impossibilities the wrong way out. He just wanted it to stop, why weren’t the damn pills working anymore?

Himchan slipped from the couch cursing the doctor and his prescriptions and pulling off his shirt. What was the point of the medicine that failed to serve its single use? Unbuckling his jeans he shuffled towards the bed. But what was there for him beside those pills? He gingerly swept the pillow and the toy to the floor, pulled at the sheets, added the bedclothes to the pile of the sweaty clothes he just striped off. Laundry time! Setting up the washing machine Himchan decided he shouldn’t idle either. The work was tired of waited.

He picked up the laptop from the floor, switched it on and cleared some place for it on the desk with a swift wide motion. Just as his computer welcomed him with an lively sound effect a buzz filled the room. Himchan followed the sound until there was nothing before him but a TV on a stand and a wall. Meanwhile the hum continued. He turned the TV sideways and reached behind the drawers into the dust with an inner shudder. He had never cleaned there, it was a perfect spot for new life forms to develop. Finally, a phone was vibrating in his hand. Daehyun was persistent.

-You ditched us again.

-Ha?

-Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss another rehearsal. — Lighthearted sigh. — Seriously. Enough. Are you showing up next time or what?

-I’ll try. I mean… I’ll come. Sure. — The rehearsal was the very thing, it would be a shiny day to break the rainy season.

-The mourning is officially over? Manse~! — Cough. — Sorry. Hope you’re in high spirits again. We need you, man. We do. — The laughter boomed wide and clear.

-Lend me some of this glee next time we meet, would ya? — Daehyun’s sincere laughter and forward attitude slowly lifted the weight from his heart. He involuntarily smiled.

-No shit, you need it and… can I beat it into you if it doesn’t just seep in by itself?

This time they laughed together.

-Almost forgot! — Daehyun blabbered on. — The lyrics. Have you finished them yet?

-I’m on it.

-Bring them all. Even the roughest drafts. It’s past time we start practicing the new stuff. And, do I need to mention, Youngjae and I are dying to see the lyrics! Bri~ng them.

-Rodger that.

-Cool. Gotta go.

And Daehyun was out. Wait, when should he come?! Had Daehyun simply forgotten to tell him or was he supposed to know? After Yongguk vanished his whole schedule snapped right through the middle and crumbled to an unmanageable nothingness.

The phone screen was flagged with missed calls and unread messages. Too much of them, would deal later. Work was the first item on his list. Or should he really spend a few sweet moments fiddling with the lyrics? Himchan strained his memory to recall what he was writing about. Was it love or war or roofs on fire, it made no difference: if he couldn’t remember, he could always start anew. A wave of inspiration caught him unawares, crushed down on his head, flowed over him, carrying his compliant body to the prolific shores of imagination. The delight of pouring down words, of tasting rhymes, of feeling your way through similes. The work could wait a little more. Should he sketch out a couple of lines, maybe come up with a verse, or even outline a whole song? He would relax, untangle his stupefied nerves- "When Yongguk was wroting his lyrics..." That was enough to turn his enthusiasm sour, metallic and citrus in his mouth, bile and acid in his throat. There was nothing that could bring out stronger memories of his old friend more. That was his passion, the passion for music they shared and cherished together through the years.

Work. Overload his brain with tasks, numb his senses with information, infect his system with busyness. Himchan started by pedantically checking his mail.

It was time for a coffee break. Every employee has a right for a little rest, even at times when the mind remains restless. Also, his legs and back were screaming for some action. Just a quick trip to his usual cafe and an immediate retreat back home. No prolonged stays at the table, no roundabout wanderings across the town, no attention drawn and no civilities exchanged. He would ask for a take-out and walk a couple of leisurely circles round his apartment block until he ran out of coffee. One should learn from one’s mistakes. But it seemed like he was getting all the lessons wrong recently. So should he be trying to learn after all?

Waiting in the queue Himchan surveyed the interior to distract himself. All in vain. Too many vivid memories connected this place to his friend. They used to sit here for hours jabbering about their wishful present, reminiscing about their not less blissful past and planning out their even more hopeful future, so much for that; they had lingered here over many lazy breakfasts, stolen countless quick lunches and toasted non-stop over filling hearty suppers. Sometimes they had just met in front of the cafe, late at night, to squander their youth elsewhere. Was there a table they hadn’t sat together at or hadn’t spilled some beer on?

Gazing at the neat rows of tables he caught a glance of a tousled boy with a mole on the nose bridge who was eyeing him intently through narrow eye slits, from behind a chicken sandwich. The youngster looked vaguely familiar yet he didn’t seem to belong to his usual circle. In any case, Himchan would rather leave the cafe ignored or unnoticed regardless of their degree of acquaintance. He hurriedly turned to the counter willing people to move quicker, gape less and know exactly what they want. Fat chance!

Got hold of a warm assuring paper cup he bolted out of the cafe, eyes scanning the floor, the doorway and the welcoming pavement. He was squinting at the sun when a voice halted him.

-Wait.

It just might not have been for him, he could have pretended not to hear the words in a hurry, he might have but an uncanny pull was already turning him around.

-Remember me?

He peered at the boy, straining his eyes as his brain refused to cooperate. The effort echoed through his head with tentative stabs of pain.

-About a week ago. — A moment’s hesitation. — Police station.

Right, he had seen him among the damn gang that day. Slim and ashen-faced, he had been the youngest, it seemed, still in his teens, a lonely minor in that pitiful bunch. He had been the only one to come with his parents. As well as the only one to show his fear, or was he simply the only one evolved enough to know to feel it in that shitty situation.

Two days after the search started, five days after his friend’s sister reported the disappearance, the cops found out that the missing youth was a part of a small street gang and quickly shook off their lax attitude. That must have turned up the heat under their asses a few notches. His close friends and latest acquaintances had been brought in for questioning.

-Right. That evening. Your whole… group was there.

The boy fidgeted and blurted out.

-I don’t hang out with them anymore.

-Good for you. — He nodded.

-My name is Jongup. I just- There are still no news. And I thought- Heard anything? — He cast a sidelong timid glance.

-No, same here. Nothing.

-I see. — The smirk was bitter and foul-tasting. — I should have known, there are no happy endings. You were close, right? — He didn’t wait for an answer. — Seen you coming to his place a couple of times. Well, I was his neighbor. It wasn’t that long since he moved next door but still… He was always so friendly towards me, attentive and encouraging from the day we met, even though he didn’t have to.

The boy broke the eye contact, his eyes darting between tiny cracks and other imperfections in the pavement. The moment neared, squeezing his throat, drying his mouth till the tongue rustled against the roof.

-At first I was going to join them alone but that day I just happened to bump into him at the stairwell as I was leaving. He looked so down, I realized he was more like me than I previously thought. Later he told about the expulsion, I didn’t know at that time. Seeing him that way, I don’t know, I just asked if he would want to go with me, told what I was up to. Honestly, I had no idea it was that serious. — He turned his voice down to a confessional whisper. — I was just a bit angry, wanted to belong, I needed the change and- I never wanted to get mixed up in this shit… drugs or stealing or… whatever the cops hinted at. — He turned away, uncomfortable, fingers clutching at his hair. — I mean- I only wanted to say- I’m sorry! I feel guilty and dazed and- Relieved! It was an eye-opener. I’ve never seen my life that clearly before. If it wasn’t for him, who knows… And it’s not entirely my fault. I didn’t know, I couldn’t.

There were no befitting words left inside them to share. They met strangers, they walked away feeling more distant. The only link that could have bound them together went missing, leaving a widening hollow to push them apart.

Himchan wandered back home, his legs dragged along, their steps unsure, their goal unknown. His head flared rhythmically with a hot agony of aches and qualms, mutinous thoughts chipping measly pieces off his mind with every other breath. Well-rested and ready for a new working cycle, the headache awakened from its obligatory nap, stirred up by the accidental encounter that in place of a person left a sucked out, chewed and crooked lump of numbing fatigue and prickly sensations. That boy made his heart resonate to so many notes guiding it up and down a minor scale: loathing, sympathy, discomfiture, and simple fear. Muddied speculations on the lad and their conversation were pushed out of his head as the neglected memories of his gone friend resurfaced and rushed into his conciseness.

All the anger and frustration over his friend turning off the road they had chosen together to instead slide down a treacherous slope of disgrace and degradation, resentment boiled inside him with new strength. Right, they even had a big fight on the subject in that gloomy, unkept park not long before the disappearance. They screamed, and pushed, and blamed, and desensitized, and half-awarely hurt each other with rushed words, raw and undercooked. Thankfully, the exact wordings escaped his memory yet the tightening grip around his heart, the carmine blazing voice rasping in his head, and the whole unreality of the damn thing were still with him, as palpable as back then, rancid on the nose. Was it the last time he saw Yongguk? Most likely. At least it explained why he had been drawn to the park the other day.

The monstrous gray bulk of his apartment block loomed above him. The coffee had been peacefully sloshing in the cup the entire walk, untouched. He tasted his mouth: full of chewy worries and regrets. He was full for now. He opened the lid, slowly turned the cup and watched the lukewarm liquid dissolve into dark splotches on the asphalt, so easy.

After the crisp street air the room felt stuffy, instantly sucking his T-shirt and jeans inward, gluing them to his body. He opened the window, a gust of the wind hurried a pile of scraps and papers down from the table. Should have tidied up the useless junk a long time ago, bad luck, always a day too late. A shallow sigh, his back bent over, pecking at a paper after paper, he gathered all the rubbish, even discovering several gum and candy wraps, what a treasure hunt. Standing over a trash can he briefly looked through memos and documents. One by one he tore them and scattered over empty water bottles and frozen food packages. He dazedly lingered over a small handwritten note. “Never do this again. Himchan” The first word underlined twice. So… he had written it, apparently. Why was it still with him then? Had forgotten to give it? Got it back from an angry addressee? Had no time to pass it, or the opportunity, or the courage? All three? And wait, for whom had he written it? What had he done wrong? Could it be-

The phone ripped at the silence, its jingle slammed into Himchan’s thoughts through the wall. He swiftly threw the remaining papers in the junk and scuttled to the bedroom to interrupt the out-of-place merriness of the tune.

-Hello.

-Thanks god, you’re okay and not ignoring me anymore. — Junhong’s voice beamed at him across miles of concrete and steel. A mingy light ignited inside him but it burned out quickly, too frail to withstand the harsh blows of the wind and too deep down to offer any warmth. — You’re with me?

-Sorry. Just dozing off a bit. I’m right here.

-Are you eating well? You can’t live on coffee alone for so long. — Puffy sigh. — Oh, you’re not missing your rehearsal tomorrow, are you? It’s bound to cheer you up. — A huge smile pushed its way through the speaker.

-Yeah, Daehyun called this morning. Made it clear I have little choice but to go. — He suppressed a chuckle. Would it be weird to ask? He swept up together the beggarly debris of his nonchalance. — So, it’s tomorrow then?

A silent question filled the frequency.

-Y-e-s. The contest is coming. You agreed to meet every other day and did, before- Have you changed your mind and postponed the rehearsals?

-No-no. It’s just… My mind’s a bit hazy lately. Don’t mind my ramblings.

-Is this a side-effect of that drug you've mentioned? Have you told your doctor? — Junhong’s voice leaned closer.

-Not a big deal, really. Don’t worry, I-

Statics cut trough the line, just occasional scatters of phrases breaking through from the other side, nonsensical and mysterious. The ragged buzz consumed his mind. Most terrifyingly, he couldn’t tell if it was flowing from the phone into his ear or the other way around. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and pinched his nose bridge. A wavering instant on the threshold. The reception cleared.

-… of yourself. Listening?

-Aaa-ha.

-Have the depression deepened again? It is because of that guy, in the coffee shop?

He froze, blood thickened, numbing and weighting down his limbs, lungs turned into a dumb-bell, useless for breathing and too heavy for his chest to hold on to any longer, time swirled around in slow-motion. How? He hadn’t seen Junhong there, so the boy hadn’t been there, couldn’t. It takes some exceptional skills to overlook such a lanky guy, even sitting he sticks out like a sore thumb. And if he knew of the meeting, had he heard their conversation? How much of it? Did he have a hand in the whole thing?

-Junhong, do you know that boy? — Cold sweat traversed his back in short stealthy charges, from one vertebra to another.

-No, never seen him before. So it is what threw you off balance after all!

Either he was going crazy or the world, a humorless fellow it was, was playing a dour joke on him. He was looking into things too much. God, he needed a break.

-Oops, there’s another incoming call. Work. Later.

-Sure, hyung. See-

Tall fierce waves of pain crushed against his temples with every thud of his exhausted heart, cold coils nestled in his throat and chest, entangling and twisting into unswallowable knots. Himchan gripped at the tabletop. It was clearly an overreaction, what a drama queen. That was stupid, it meant nothing, the whole day was a mucky incongruous mess. Or his life a bad dream.

He should get a hold of himself… But how did Junhong know? Icy dew of sweat trickled down his neck sending a shiver through his body.

Work. Just get to work. No need to ponder over mysteries the life was diligently throwing at him. He excelled at forgetting recently. He could use that trick once more. He revived the computer, concentrated on the glowing screen, loud music in the headphones, hands tapping at the keys, stifling a gentle tremor. The night was going to be long.

~UG

[goldeagleprice]

Trip to England opens door to past

John Mussell helps staff his table at the Coinex show.

By Dick Hanscom

My wife said to me, “You’re going with me this year. When can you go?” She had “done” Cornwall the previous year with a family friend (looking for Poldark and Doc Martin).

So stuffing my dislike for traveling way, way down, I gave her a range of dates to encompass the Coinex coin show in London Sept. 22-23 and the Token Congress in Warwick two weekends later (Oct. 6-8). This was designed so that we (my business partner and I) could get our October auction printed and in the mail before I left, and I would return in time to assist in the run-up to our auction on Oct. 21.

We first flew south from Fairbanks, Alaska, to Anchorage, and then “over the pole” to Reykjavik, Iceland. After several flight delays, and compensation making Icelandair a little less profitable, we arrived in London Friday night about six hours later than expected.

Saturday morning, I went to Coinex while my wife Jan wandered around the area. I get overwhelmed at shows. I am not aggressive enough. I told her to give me two hours.

Coinex is a nice show, but small by U.S. standards. Obviously the emphasis is on British numismatics, which goes back way further than ours. They have a 2,000-year history to choose from. All of it was on display and offered for sale. It was really a great opportunity to see stuff we don’t normally see in Fairbanks.

I met John Mussel, publisher of Coin News, a British coin magazine. I had written a few articles for them 20 years ago, and promised an article or two. Have to scour the newsletter for something appropriate, or do something original.

A general view of the ballroom housing Coinex.

That afternoon, we took the hop-on, hop-off bus tour, just to get a feel for what we would do on Sunday. This was a pretty good orientation and set us up for walking about five miles the next day.

On Sunday, we took the tube to the Tower of London and spent a few hours there. The “Tower” is the White Tower, in the center of the castle. It gives its name to the castle complex. It houses an armory display on the first and second floors, and other displays on other floors, including a screw press.

A full view of the White Tower.

We walked the walls and went into some of the towers on the walls, with graffiti from the “inmates.”

The entrance to the Tower Mint.

The Crown Jewels are housed here, not in the tower, but another building on the grounds. Surprisingly (to me), the mint was not in the tower (you know, “Tower” mint), but along the outside wall. There was a display of old mint implements, a display for “Trial of the Pyx,” and displays of interesting coins.

Exhibit at the Tower Mint.

We left the Tower castle and proceeded to walk around London with no real destination. We ended up at Spitalfields market. We stumbled on a wool and fleece market. And then we walked some more. We walked by and looked at the Christopher Wren monument. I had a Winnie the Pooh moment, thinking Christopher Robin (hey, they are both bird names). I really can’t tell you where else we walked, but it was an enjoyable afternoon.

The “Da Vinci Code” chapel.

It was getting near 5 p.m. and time to head back to the hotel. Jan said, “The chapel where they filmed The Da Vinci Code is over there” (across the river). It had been pointed out to us on the bus tour the previous day. So we walked over the bridge and got to the approximate location, then did nearly a complete circle around where the chapel was without finding it. I asked a couple in a short alley if they knew where it was, and they gave us directions that got us right to it, right down to the guard house. The attendant informed us that the chapel was closed, but we could look at it from the outside. We figured that was better than nothing, so we walked in, saw the outside of the chapel, and headed out. On the street, Jan looked at a map and said, “I think our hotel is two blocks that way.” Duh! So if you go to London, we can recommend a Premier Inn that is two blocks from the Da Vinci chapel.

Monday was a travel day. We went to the train station to catch a train to Stratford-Upon-Avon, where we would be renting a car. Stratford-Upon-Avon is near Warwick, where the Token Congress would be in two weekends, and a convenient place to drop the car when we were done. An hour and a half or two hours later, we were there, caught a cab to the rental car, and picked up the car.

The first time getting in was odd, being on the right (wrong) side of the car. For the next two weeks, I heard my wife say, “Getting a little close to the curb; close to the white line; swing out to miss the car parked halfway in your lane,” etc. I was always hugging the left side of the road. But the best was when taking a right turn: “Stay in the left lane.” Now if you think I am complaining or ridiculing her, you are mistaken. Without her help, the car would have more than just a couple of cosmetic brush scrapes. I seem to recall a gasp when I cut a corner a little close coming off a bridge, narrowly missing the stone wall. Not to worry, I had it all under control. But her best help came at roundabouts: “Stay in the right lane, take the third exit,” or “Follow that car!” (or truck or bus).

David Greenhalgh demonstrates how coins were struck in ancient times with hammer and anvil dies.

So thus began our two-week drive around northern England and Wales. The first stop would be Metheringham to visit David Greenhalgh, a.k.a. Dave the Moneyer. The drive up was uneventful. Boring is good. Just getting the feel for driving on the left, navigating roundabouts, bouncing off the left curb …

Dave said we should meet in the local pub because he did not want to try to give me directions to his house. Metheringham is a tiny village, with cars parked on both sides of the street. Driving through was like slalom skiing! I found the White Hart Pub, walked in, and Dave was there with his laptop, using their WiFi. He was easily recognized, and since I had on an Alaska T-shirt, so was I.

The house of David Greenhalgh, a.k.a. Dave the Moneyer, at Metheringham.

After introductions, the publican looked at Dave and said, “He’s going to have trouble at your house.” I am about 6’1″ tall, and the doors at Dave’s house, which dates back to the 1600s, are not. I think Dave would have been disappointed if I did not whack my head at least once. Once was enough. I am a fast learner.

We followed Dave to his house. Solar panels were on the roof!

We arrived just before dinner, so we talked and got to know each other. Dinner was an excellent meat pie with “veg” and rice pudding for desert. After dinner, we talked a bit more, but Jan and I faded quickly, still not used to the time change.

In the morning, it was a full English breakfast: bacon, sausage, black pudding, eggs and fried tomatoes and mushrooms. I may have forgotten something. I don’t know how anyone can eat all of that. It was way too much, so I eased in with moderate portions. I can’t recommend the black pudding.

Following breakfast, we got a first-hand look at various aspects of “moneying.”

From left to right are shown Dave’s backyard shelter with forge, a view of the forge, and stored dies.

In the backyard is Dave’s shelter that he uses for his demonstrations. He fired up his forge to show how easy it is to bring it up to temperature to melt silver. Bellows and coal, a technique as old as his tokens look! As an exercise in authenticity, he even went to Norway, obtained iron ore, smelted it into iron, and made dies as they would have in Roman times.

But rather than smelting his own steel, he is using mild steel for dies. He can get 20,000 strikes from a set of dies. He has his “mint” set up in the atrium, with dies on shelves lining a wall. So many dies … at least a few hundred. Dave’s tokens resemble coins from ancient Britain up through medieval times, and even some non-British. These are struck in pewter, copper, silver and gold.

Examples of Dave’s tokens, which resemble coins from ancient Britain up through medieval times.

Dave demonstrated how he gets the distinctive (medieval-looking) lettering on his dies with only a nail filed flat to impart a small triangular impression when held at an angle. This is a tool that I might just be able to make and use.

Dave has created a full-time job for himself as a moneyer at renaissance fairs and other historical activities. He spent seven weeks this summer at Sutton Hoo Ship Burial site. A look at his web page, www.grunal.com, will show the scope of his endeavor.

Just before noon Tuesday, we headed to York. This was the beginning of our tour of northern England and Wales. We bounced between castle and abbey and cathedral for almost two weeks, with the miscellaneous numismatic stops along the way.

On our way to Chester, we detoured to Warrington. I have been corresponding with Bob Lyall for over 40 years. Our interests overlap in the south polar regions. He collects British colonial tokens, primarily from the small colonies. I collect polar, which included Falkland Islands and South Georgia Island, which are British colonies. We have maintained contact, keeping an eye open for items that might be of interest to each other.

We stopped in just before lunch and, after a short time, we departed for his local pub for fish and chips (and mushy peas – don’t ask). Bob drove … zoom, zoom, zoom. At least it felt like that after driving tentatively, cautiously, slowly, for two days. At this pub, and as we found out in London, and we would find throughout our visit, the portions were too big. An 18-year-old me could have put it away and more, but not at my age.

We left right after lunch for Chester. We would see Bob again at the Token Congress.

From Chester, we headed to Conwy and from Conwy to Aberystwyth, via Snowdonia National Park. Narrow roads and sharp turns. Kind of reminds one of the Denali National Park road, but it was paved.

And there were stone walls along either side. “Don’t get too close to the rock wall,” my navigator said, many times. The drops are pretty serious, though. And like Denali National Park, there are sheep. In Snowdonia, there are sheep all over the mountains and even up close. Sometimes they are even on the side of the road. So what if they are not Dahl sheep.

Who needs Denali National Park? If you want to see sheep, don’t come to Alaska. Go to Snowdonia. Sheeps is sheeps. Sadly, the official photographer did not choose to take a photo of them.

After leaving Aberystwyth, we headed south. There were two gold-related stops to be made. The first was Rhiannon Welsh Gold Center in Tregaron. Rhiannon fabricates Welsh gold into very attractive jewelry, many with traditional Welsh designs. I wanted to purchase a specimen, a small piece of raw Welsh gold. Only the sales staff was in when we arrived. The owner (Rhiannon) was due to arrive shortly. We went next door for a coffee. Unfortunately, we could not wait for her to arrive.

Jan at the entrance to the Welsh gold mine.

Our next stop was the Dolaucothi Gold Mine. This was my chance to pan some native Welsh gold. What I got was native Welsh pyrite! But that is okay. The Dolaucothi Gold Mine dates back to Roman times and was also mined in the Victorian era. They do two tours. We arrived just after the Roman tour began, so we had to settle for the Victorian tour. Our tour guide gave a history of the mine, back to the “pesky Romans” stealing the Welsh gold. The rest of her banter was in the same lighthearted vein and very entertaining. She eliminated our disappointment of missing the tour of the Roman workings.

They suited us up with boots, hard hats and lights. It was low ceilings all the way. I did not bang my head once! But at 5 feet tall, Jan did. She is not used to ducking. But no harm done. She was wearing a helmet.

I had brought a few small Alaska gold nuggets with me and showed them to our tour guide and staff. They were suitably impressed, as all that is ever found there is “flour gold” – very tiny specks.

Our friend, Glen Wilson, met us in Cardiff. I have corresponded with Glen for over 40 years. He is originally from Australia but went to the UK to investigate his family genealogy, got a job, and stayed. We met Glen when he visited Fairbanks two summers ago with Gail (his sister from Australia) and Carol (his cousin’s wife from the UK – we will meet Carol later in this trip). They were doing the usual cruise/land tour and tacked on a few extra days in Fairbanks. Jan visited with them last year when she was “doing Cornwall.”

The next morning, we headed to the Royal Mint in Llantrisant. I had booked the 10 a.m. tour, and that was a good thing. There was only one other couple in our group, but by the time we came out, the size of the groups had grown significantly. The tour took about an hour, while we looked at minting machinery (from a distance while standing behind glass) and the tour guide gave her speech. At the end of the tour, we struck our own new 12-sided, bimetal, one-pound coin with improved security features. An attendant would place a blank in the press while we stood behind a railing, 10 feet away from the press, and pressed a button. The press would press the coin once, recede slightly, and press it again. Yee-ha.

The best part of the whole tour was the displays that followed the tour, with many coins going back to about 1000 C.E., including the first coins from the Royal Mint and carrying on through the years, showing many historic coins and rarities.

We left Cardiff the next morning (Friday) to drive to Stratford-Upon-Avon to drop off the rental car. Only a couple more hours, and I would not have to use that £100 deductible for accident coverage! With Jan navigating and Glen in the back seat also navigating, the navigators did not always agree. One was always ahead of the other, and not always the same one.

As we were getting close to Stratford-Upon-Avon, Jan cackled sinisterly. Over the next 30 miles, there would be 12 roundabouts. A true test of fire to see if I could get the car back undamaged. And before noon! Well, we didn’t make it. We would have made it before noon if I had not missed the last turn. But then we would not have found the gas station to “bring it back full.” We were only about 15 minutes late, and there was no problem. Carol picked us up for the short drive to Warwick.

We arrived at the Warwick Hilton shortly after noon. It was too early for check-in, so our bags were put in storage. I met Dave Smith, the organizer of the Token Congress, with whom I had been communicating for several months.

I was pleased to see my Schmetzlandia token and article on Page 3 of the show program. When I first contacted Dave, I asked if he would like to have me strike a token at the Congress and sent him a copy of the article. He declined, saying that they had done that before and it was a bit noisy. Later, he asked if he could use the article in the program. I said of course, and I would provide silver tokens to include with the article.

Carol then took us to Stratford-Upon-Avon for a short walk-around tour. We saw “Shakespeare” this and “Shakspear” that and still more “Shakspere.” Seems he did not get hung up on the spelling. It was really a neat city, well preserved or well restored.

Back at the hotel for dinner and then the auction, I examined the offerings, but there was nothing for me, so I skipped it in favor of an early night. After all, I would be giving my presentation on Alaska tokens at 11 a.m. on Saturday.

Saturday morning after breakfast, it was off to the presentations. There are so many facets of British token collecting that it would be difficult to list them all. The program of presentations covered the gamut. “Investigating boring market tokens” was anything but boring. “A Sentimental Journey” was a surprise, as “Sentimental” was a magazine that gave away medals with subscriptions.

Time came for my presentation, and it seemed to zoom by. I think it went well. They now know more than they ever wanted to know about Alaska tokens. It seems that it was well received. Feedback was positive, but no one is going to come over and say, “That was boring.” I will take it as a win.

Other presentations included, “Tokens of the Black Country iron industry,” “Engraved coins,” “Norfolk’s 17c Tokens,” and others. These were followed by the “Gala Dinner.” Too much silverware … what do I do with this fork? Clearly out of my element.

Token Congress bourse activity.

After dinner was the bourse, from 9 p.m. to midnight. Really? But that was the only way to fit it in. And the room did not empty out until nearly midnight. For most of the night, there were clusters of customers in front of each dealer.

I was there selling my two books, Tinnahs & Sealskins, Gold Dust & Bingles and Striking Gold in Alaska, and trying to sell my gold tokens, gold nuggets and Savoonga 1¢ tokens. Why Savoonga 1¢ tokens? Because Savoonga was mentioned in my presentation and because they are cheap – £2!

At the bourse, Andrew Wager gave me a copy of his book The Mystery of Henry Morgan, a numismatic detective story (not the pirate), so I reciprocated and gave him a copy of Striking Gold. I have had a passing interest in the silver token issues circa 1812. After reading Andrew’s book, I will have to consciously restrain myself. The book was fascinating. It’s a good thing I hadn’t read this book before the bourse, as I might have started looking for silver shilling tokens! The one from the Isle of Wight is really cool.

Jan and Glen manned the table while I wandered around looking for the one item I had decided would be my souvenir from this trip – an Anglesey penny token in Mint State. Unfortunately, there was none to be found. There were some nice XF tokens, but none as good as I wanted. Ironically, within a week of arriving home, I purchased an Anglesey penny token on eBay. Listed as uncirculated, it is only an AU, but the price was right until I manage to find a Mint State example.

Jan took no photos at the Token Congress. Glen, the habitual photographer, did not take any, either.

Fortunately, Carol took one photo at the bourse. It just happened to be of Glen, Jan, me and Bob Lyall. Pure luck!

The following morning, the presentations started again at 9 a.m. While the speaker acknowledged that these were not the most favored of British tokens, “The evolution of British lead and pewter tokens, 1200-1850” was extremely interesting. I was disappointed to find out in ���James Wright Junior, a scholar but not a gentleman” that he was not a scoundrel, just not of the gentlemanly class.

With a few presentations to go, we had to leave to catch a bus to Gatwick for our flight the next morning.

Conclusions

I would go back again, but not without a navigator. Without Jan in the passenger seat, I would have been in panic mode all the time. As it was, I was in near-panic mode at times. But it was all endurable and worthwhile.

I found British drivers to be most courteous. They know the conditions and adapt to them. That said, I was mostly outside of cities, and one would expect better-mannered drivers in the countryside.

I would really like to go to the Token Congress again. It was a most enjoyable weekend, very informal and low-key. The most stress was trying to see the tokens at the bourse.

Give me a vote, and I will vote to keep the $1 bill. Having a pocketful of £1 and £2 coins was annoying. I supposed one gets used to it.

  This article was originally printed in World Coin News. >> Subscribe today.

  More Collecting Resources

• The Standard Catalog of World Coins, 1601-1700 is your guide to images, prices and information on coins from so long ago.

• More than 600 issuing locations are represented in the Standard Catalog of World Coins, 1701-1800 .

The post Trip to England opens door to past appeared first on Numismatic News.

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Caissie Levy (Elsa) and Company. Photo by Deen van Meer.

The Review: Frozen, the Musical on Broadway

By Ross

This was going to be an exciting evening at the theatre for me. Not for the reason you might first expect, but for another, because this time would be the first time I was going to the theatre with my young niece, Hazel, just the two of us. This was not her first time in a Broadway house, mind you, she had sat on my lap while watching Cinderella a few years back at the Broadway Theatre (currently the home of Rocktopia), and my guest to see Annie at the Paper Mill Playhouse last fall, so she knows the ropes and how to behave, but this was the first time that Mother Cheryl wasn’t sitting close by. This time, Hazel was dropped off and her parents watched as us enter the St. James Theatre, on our own, primed and excited to see the new Disney Broadway musical, Frozen. We sat in heightened anticipation, watching the Northern Lights dance across the curtain, with Hazel so excited she didn’t want to close her eyes, in case she might miss something.

Caissie Levy (Elsa), Patti Murin (Anna) and Company. Photo by Deen van Meer.

The musical, as I’m sure everyone is well aware, is based on the ever-so popular animated movie that is one of Hazel’s favorite sing-along stories. With music and lyrics by the fantastic team that brought you the animated movie musicals, ‘Coco‘ (Oscar Award for Best Original Song: “Remember Me“) and ‘Frozen’ (Oscar and Grammy Award for “Let It Go“) and a book by Jennifer Lee, the talented Oscar-winning writer of Walt Disney’s ‘Frozen‘, which she also directed with Chris Buck, this Broadway adaptation was the perfect show for young Hazel, it gave her everything she could have hoped for, a story line she knew, some great songs that she loves and knows by heart, but what it didn’t really give her is the idea that you can have something as wonderful as the film ‘Frozen‘ and spin it far beyond the land of serviceable, and into a new realm, one that is artistically creative, advancing, and expanding.  For that, we will have to go see Julie Taymor’s Lion King, because invention and dynamic wonderment isn’t going to be found under the standardized snowy landscapes of director Michael Grandage’s creation, Frozen, the Broadway Musical.

Caissie Levy (Elsa). Photo by Deen van Meer

All the main ingredients are present though.  The wonderfully regal Elsa, played strongly at first by the young Brooklyn Nelson (Mathilda), morphing into the impressive and very talented Caissie Levy (Broadway’s 2014 Les Misérables, Ghost, Public’s First Daughter Suite).  Her strong voice and presence add weight and beauty to the lovely new song, “Dangerous to Dream” and the one Hazel and everyone else was breathlessly waiting for “Let It Go“, which was skin-tingling in its dramatic rendition.  Bravo Caissie. And even though I’m still attached to Idina Menzel’s brilliant version, especially in the way she closes the song on that perfect last line reading, Levy doesn’t disappoint one audience member.  Hazel was awe-struck, wide-eyed and unbelieving, writing in her wonderful review: “If you blink while Elsa changes, you’ll miss it, cause it just falls and it happens really fast…She changes from her queen dress to an icy beautiful dress….I liked the play ALOT!”

Patti Murin (Anna), John Riddle (Hans). Photo by Deen van Meer

But for me, the joy of the evening lies in the hands of both the young and soon-to-be a star, Mattea Conforti (Sunday in the Park with George), and the most wonderful Patti Murin (Broadway’s Lysistrata Jones), who brings such fun and frolic to the young sister, Anna.  In Murin’s portrayal, the piece finds its connection and attachment, falling in love with her goofiness and sense of wonder just as fast as she falls in love with Hans during the wacky and wonderful number, “Love Is an Open Door“.  John Riddle (Broadway’s The Visit), who plays the handsome too-good-to-be-true Prince of the Southern Isles, convinces us at the beginning that he is her shining knight, just like we are told in the fairy tale books, even though somewhere in the back of our minds, we are well aware how this will all turn out in the end.  He’s a bit too stiff in his other moments, especially his signature song, “Hans of the Southern Isles” but together with Anna, we join in their fun, embracing each and every hilarious pun and jokie playful grimace that Murin gives us on that wonderfully expressive and elastic face of hers.

Jelani Alladin (Kristoff). Patti Murin (Anna). Photo by Deen van Meer.

It is when she finally engages with the absolutely heart-melting Jelani Alladin (Signature’s Sweetee), giving a comically gentle and engaging performance as the lowly ice merchant Kristoff, that the romantic tugging starts and the slim storyline finds its warm heart, especially in the very enjoyable added song, “What Do You Know About Love?“. That, alongside one of my favorites, “Reindeer(s) Are Better Than People“, make us glad that Kristoff, and his most amazing, trustworthy, and sadly under-used Sven, created impressively by Andrew Pirozzi (NBC’s “Hairspray Live!“), make us glad his sled has arrived into the land of Arendelle, and even more joyful that Anna runs into him on those snowy slopes.

Jelani Alladin (Kristoff), Andrew Pirozzi (Sven). Photo by Deen van Meer.

Along side these main characters, magic is the central core of this show, and some of it can be found in a few other nicely structured and appealing representations from the film. The second act opener, “Hygge“, lead by Oaken, hilariously portrayed by Kevin Del Aguila (Broadway’s Peter and the Starcatcher) is great fun and a joy to behold. The King and Queen of the Trolls are magnificently reinterpreted by the impressive Timothy

Hazel writing her review.

Hughes (Broadway’s Chaplin) and Olivia Phillip (Broadway’s Waitress) in their joyful number, “Fixer Upper“. Hazel wrote that she “loved the part when the trolls helped Anna’s frozen head“, it was one of the truly inspired magical moments of creation that lifted up the standard to the spectacular, giving us a new vantage point over the snowy slopes of Frozen.

  Olaf, created by master puppet designer, Michael Curry, (Lion King) works fairly well and totally looks the part, but is sadly just mediocre in conceptualization. The manipulations and performance by Greg Hildreth (Roundabout’s The Robber Bridegroom) as that comic sidekick snowman serves the grander structure well, is playful and fun, especially in his fun rendition of “In Summer“, but for some reason, the separation of puppeteer and puppet never really seems complete.

Patti Murin (Anna), Jelani Alladin (Kristoff), and Company. Photo by Deen van Meer.

In some way, this is very representational of the whole production. Director Grandage (West End’s Merrily We Roll Along, Broadway’s Frost/Nixon), with some help from choreographer Rob Ashford (Park Ave Armory’s Macbeth, Broadway’s Evita), set and costume designer, Christopher Oram (Broadway’s Wolf Hall Parts 1 &2) with special effects by Jeremy Chernick, lighting by Natasha Katz, sound design by Peter Hylenski, and video design by Finn Ross fail to add that extra layer of magic that would take this show from a very acceptable adaptation of an animated film into something that could stand on its own two feet. Without the memory of the better film propping it up and attracting a crowd, Frozen wouldn’t be the success it is destined to be because it rarely steps beyond the expected. As Hazel writes: “The voices and clothes were awesome” and I agree whole heartedly, but without the added layer of snowy surprise and excitement, the musical stays somewhere just above a theme park ride or stage show, barely reaching above the standard.  We needed visionary stage magic to lift us up, not a snowflake patterned curtain of crystals or some ice shards jutting out from the side in a feeble attempt to frighten. Elsa’s dangerous abilities are much more dynamic and dangerous than that, and with the rather simplistic representations, we are never transformed or dazzled into submission.

Caissie Levy (Elsa) and Company. Photo by Deen van Meer.

The story line is pretty straight forward, just as it is in the movie, which in itself is a bit messy and oddly nonsensical.   But for me the subtext of this tale is the most fascinating part: the story of a young person being seen by her parents as containing a quality that makes her different from the rest, and instead of encouraging her to embrace it and be proud, she is told, quite plainly, to “keep it inside” and hide it away.  When her secret finally comes out, literally, she has to run away and create her own kingdom where she can embrace her specialness and be herself.  Her sister follows her trying to convince her that she can and will be accepted back home, but it takes a special act of courage and true love to finally come home and be accepted by her community. Once she is, she finally feels some freedom to be herself and can rejoin the family that she almost discarded. In all honesty, and this has been said a thousand times before, it sounds like any number of coming out stories I have heard over the years from members of the LGBT community regarding their childhood and young adulthood experiences, and why big cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, and San Francisco are seen as gay meccas and safe kingdoms for escape.  I will say that I think it’s a fascinating parallel and one wisely told, but a bit problematic in that Elsa has no romanic prospects or future partnership plans. She is given just a life of regal solitude basking in the loving relationship that she can watch from the sidelines of her more ‘normal’ younger sister and her partnership and romantic life.

Hazel elated.

Company of Frozen.

But I might be asking a bit too much from a Disney musical adaptation from an animated kids movie musical (or am I?). It seems this Broadway stage tale had a hard enough time finding the little magic it did in this transfer, and although the legions of adoring fans will gather and make this musical a hit, I’m not sure it will rise up to the regal levels of other Broadway royals, like The Lion King or even Aladdin. It’s definitely not a Tarzan, the disastrous 2006 adaptation directed and designed by Bob Crowley, just a purely serviceable Disney adaptation of the most successful animated movie of all time. And it will be a hit, no matter what any one says.

  Regardless, this was an awesome night for Hazel and myself, the first of, what I hope will be many when my young theatre-junkie in-the-making will accompany me to the theatre for future plays and musicals.  Soon she will be old enough to take the train in all by herself, just to meet me for pre-theatre dinner and then a Broadway show. But for now, it was with great pleasure that I was able to have her as my +1 and share with her a show that she loves and adores; “I really liked this play!!!!!!!!!” I just had to make sure she didn’t join in with the actors, and start to sing along with Elsa when that epic song, “Let It Go” concluded the first act and filled the air with anticipation and excitement.  She was not disappointed, she was elated.

Patti Murin (Anna) and Caissie Levy (Elsa) with Jacob Smith in Disney Theatrical Productions’ Frozen, the new Broadway musical, music and lyrics by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez and book by Jennifer Lee, opening night March 22nd, starring Caissie Levy (Elsa), Patti Murin (Anna), Jelani Alladin (Kristoff), Greg Hildreth (Olaf), John Riddle (Hans), Robert Creighton (Weselton), Kevin Del Aguila (Oaken), Timothy Hughes (Pabbie), Andrew Pirozzi (Sven), Audrey Bennett and Mattea Conforti (Young Anna), Brooklyn Nelson and Ayla Schwartz (Young Elsa). Michael Grandage: director. Photo by Deen van Meer. 

#frontmezzjunkies reviews: @FrozenBroadway - An Elated Hazel Sees a Serviable Snowy Show. @CassieLevy @PattiMurin @JelaniAlladin @JohnRiddle @greg_hildreth @TimothyHughes44 The Review: Frozen, the Musical on Broadway By Ross This was going to be an exciting evening at the theatre for me.

[milenasanchezmk]

Dear Mark: Ketosis and HIIT, Keto After Menopause, Inuit and Ketosis?

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering a few questions from you folks. First, can a person maintain their high intensity interval training while starting a ketogenic diet? Is there anything you should watch out for? Second, is keto a good option for postmenopausal women? Though we don’t have any direct research on the subject, there is hope. And then we discuss the peculiar case of the Inuit and the missing ketones.

Let’s go:

First, Matt B asked:

I’d also like to know if HIIT workouts can be properly fueled during ketosis. My swimming coach is convinced that ketogenic diets are terrible for HIIT workouts and therefore advises against ketosis entirely.

As I said in last week’s post on keto caveats and contraindications, starting a ketogenic diet while in the midst of a season or when you’re about to start one probably isn’t advisable.

Here’s what you can do:

Once the season ends, go keto for at least six weeks. Try to stay in full-blown ketosis—low carbs, high fat, moderate protein—for those six weeks. Maintain your normal training schedule and realize that your performance will suffer for the first 3-4 weeks.

After those six weeks, incorporate carbs before or after intense training efforts. Note their effects. Do the carbs help your performance? Keep eating them, making sure to time them with your workouts. Do the carbs have no effect? You may not need them after all.

The season is a different story. You’ll probably need some carbs around your workouts and meets. If you still want to remain in ketosis, don’t worry too much; as long as you use the carbs you eat, they’ll go toward refilling your muscle glycogen stores without impacting your ketogenic status too much.

Luckily, the benefits of full blown ketone adaptation don’t just disappear. Your muscles will still be good at burning fatty acids and ketones. You’ll still have higher mitochondria density to produce more energy. And as long as you revisit ketosis on occasion, you should maintain most of the metabolic benefits.

Regarding keto, Louise asked:

Would you recommend it for perimenopausal/menopausal women?

That’s tough to answer based on the literature. There aren’t any dedicated ketogenic diet studies on post-menopausal women. Though what we have on low-carb diets, which are often ketogenic by accident, is quite positive.

For instance, post menopausal women on a low-carb, high-fat cheese-and-meat-based diet fared better than women on a low-fat, high-carb diet. Their blood lipids improved, including lower LDL particle numbers and higher HDL. There’s no word as to whether this was a ketogenic diet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they attained ketosis.

In another, post-menopausal breast cancer survivors were randomized to either a low-fat diet or a low-carb diet. Although average weight loss was similar in both groups, more individuals on the low-carb arm lost a greater percentage of their body weight.

A full-blown paleolithic diet is also quite good for post-menopausal women. In one study, going paleo helped post-menopausal women lose more body fat, more abdominal body fat, more inches on the waist, and achieve lower triglycerides.

As many of my commenters noted in the original post, the scientific community at large just doesn’t like to focus on post-menopausal women. Maybe it’s that the questions are too complex (hormones are complicated, especially when they change so rapidly). Maybe there’s not as much money behind it (youth sells—and I say this as someone in his 60s). Whatever the reason, it’s not right. Hopefully, we get more research coming down the pike. I think I’ll do a post on gender disparities in research, come to think of it. Stay tuned for that.

Still, I see no reason why a ketogenic diet wouldn’t help post-menopausal women.

My general advice for everyone stands: Try it out for a few weeks, see how you feel, and be honest with yourself. Don’t feel beholden to any dietary “regimen” or “ideology” (except, perhaps, “eat real food”) if it doesn’t work for you. Sure, quality matters. You can do a ketogenic diet wrong, so make sure you do it right. Don’t do a soybean oil/Splenda/cream cheese keto diet and complain about keto when it doesn’t work, but don’t do something even if it’s clearly not working for you just because someone you trust recommended it.

Melanie asked:

I would be interested to hear more – can you expand? What kind of mutation do the Inuit have and how does this prevent ketosis? Thanks you, Claudio!

The Inuit are an interesting bunch with regards to ketosis. Despite eating almost nothing but seafood and marine and land mammals and their fat, with negligible amounts of carbohydrates, the Inuit rarely show evidence of ketosis. A legitimate fast isn’t even enough to reliably produce ketosis in the Inuit. It turns out that many of them possess a gene variant that prevents ketosis and drops blood sugar during fasting and starvation.

Similar variants in other groups are considered deleterious. It can be fatal to infants and children without instant treatment. It’s rare in most populations, probably because it’s historically been such a knock on reproductive fitness. You want your toddler to be able to survive a day without food, after all.

Yet in the Inuit and other Arctic populations, these mutations are incredibly common. What’s going on here? Why was it preserved in the Inuit, let alone selected for?

First of all, the gene variant doesn’t seem to be deleterious in adult Inuit. A number of studies have shown that Inuit with the mutation tend to have less body fat and better blood lipids, though the mutation is still dangerous in kids and babies.

The mutation also makes it easier for carriers to burn free fatty acids in mitochondria. This is a good thing for a population like the Inuit on a traditional diet, because they’re swimming in free fatty acids and they aren’t able to produce ketones or eat enough carbohydrates for energy. Free fatty acids are everywhere. If you can use them more efficiently, you’ve got a great, reliable source of energy on demand.

Without a mutation like this one, the Inuit would likely be in permanent, deep ketosis. That can be hugely therapeutic in the right context. Ketones can prevent and treat epilepsy, for example. But what if there is a problem with long-term ketosis? Given the high-fat nature of their diet, this mutation is the only thing standing between a traditionally-eating Inuit and chronic, unavoidable ketosis. The rise of this mutation may have been a way to stave off that possibility.

In a roundabout way, ketone adaptation is a way for anyone not carrying the anti-ketotic genetic marker common among Inuit to obtain Inuit-type metabolism. Long term ketone adaptation leads to an increased ability of skeletal muscle to directly oxidize free fatty acids for energy; the Inuit with the mutation do that already.

That’s it for me. Thanks for reading, everyone. Be sure to help out below with your take on the questions and any advice you have for the people who asked them.

Have a great rest of the week!

[cristinajourdanqp]

Dear Mark: Ketosis and HIIT, Keto After Menopause, Inuit and Ketosis?

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering a few questions from you folks. First, can a person maintain their high intensity interval training while starting a ketogenic diet? Is there anything you should watch out for? Second, is keto a good option for postmenopausal women? Though we don’t have any direct research on the subject, there is hope. And then we discuss the peculiar case of the Inuit and the missing ketones.

Let’s go:

First, Matt B asked:

I’d also like to know if HIIT workouts can be properly fueled during ketosis. My swimming coach is convinced that ketogenic diets are terrible for HIIT workouts and therefore advises against ketosis entirely.

As I said in last week’s post on keto caveats and contraindications, starting a ketogenic diet while in the midst of a season or when you’re about to start one probably isn’t advisable.

Here’s what you can do:

Once the season ends, go keto for at least six weeks. Try to stay in full-blown ketosis—low carbs, high fat, moderate protein—for those six weeks. Maintain your normal training schedule and realize that your performance will suffer for the first 3-4 weeks.

After those six weeks, incorporate carbs before or after intense training efforts. Note their effects. Do the carbs help your performance? Keep eating them, making sure to time them with your workouts. Do the carbs have no effect? You may not need them after all.

The season is a different story. You’ll probably need some carbs around your workouts and meets. If you still want to remain in ketosis, don’t worry too much; as long as you use the carbs you eat, they’ll go toward refilling your muscle glycogen stores without impacting your ketogenic status too much.

Luckily, the benefits of full blown ketone adaptation don’t just disappear. Your muscles will still be good at burning fatty acids and ketones. You’ll still have higher mitochondria density to produce more energy. And as long as you revisit ketosis on occasion, you should maintain most of the metabolic benefits.

Regarding keto, Louise asked:

Would you recommend it for perimenopausal/menopausal women?

That’s tough to answer based on the literature. There aren’t any dedicated ketogenic diet studies on post-menopausal women. Though what we have on low-carb diets, which are often ketogenic by accident, is quite positive.

For instance, post menopausal women on a low-carb, high-fat cheese-and-meat-based diet fared better than women on a low-fat, high-carb diet. Their blood lipids improved, including lower LDL particle numbers and higher HDL. There’s no word as to whether this was a ketogenic diet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they attained ketosis.

In another, post-menopausal breast cancer survivors were randomized to either a low-fat diet or a low-carb diet. Although average weight loss was similar in both groups, more individuals on the low-carb arm lost a greater percentage of their body weight.

A full-blown paleolithic diet is also quite good for post-menopausal women. In one study, going paleo helped post-menopausal women lose more body fat, more abdominal body fat, more inches on the waist, and achieve lower triglycerides.

As many of my commenters noted in the original post, the scientific community at large just doesn’t like to focus on post-menopausal women. Maybe it’s that the questions are too complex (hormones are complicated, especially when they change so rapidly). Maybe there’s not as much money behind it (youth sells—and I say this as someone in his 60s). Whatever the reason, it’s not right. Hopefully, we get more research coming down the pike. I think I’ll do a post on gender disparities in research, come to think of it. Stay tuned for that.

Still, I see no reason why a ketogenic diet wouldn’t help post-menopausal women.

My general advice for everyone stands: Try it out for a few weeks, see how you feel, and be honest with yourself. Don’t feel beholden to any dietary “regimen” or “ideology” (except, perhaps, “eat real food”) if it doesn’t work for you. Sure, quality matters. You can do a ketogenic diet wrong, so make sure you do it right. Don’t do a soybean oil/Splenda/cream cheese keto diet and complain about keto when it doesn’t work, but don’t do something even if it’s clearly not working for you just because someone you trust recommended it.

Melanie asked:

I would be interested to hear more – can you expand? What kind of mutation do the Inuit have and how does this prevent ketosis? Thanks you, Claudio!

The Inuit are an interesting bunch with regards to ketosis. Despite eating almost nothing but seafood and marine and land mammals and their fat, with negligible amounts of carbohydrates, the Inuit rarely show evidence of ketosis. A legitimate fast isn’t even enough to reliably produce ketosis in the Inuit. It turns out that many of them possess a gene variant that prevents ketosis and drops blood sugar during fasting and starvation.

Similar variants in other groups are considered deleterious. It can be fatal to infants and children without instant treatment. It’s rare in most populations, probably because it’s historically been such a knock on reproductive fitness. You want your toddler to be able to survive a day without food, after all.

Yet in the Inuit and other Arctic populations, these mutations are incredibly common. What’s going on here? Why was it preserved in the Inuit, let alone selected for?

First of all, the gene variant doesn’t seem to be deleterious in adult Inuit. A number of studies have shown that Inuit with the mutation tend to have less body fat and better blood lipids, though the mutation is still dangerous in kids and babies.

The mutation also makes it easier for carriers to burn free fatty acids in mitochondria. This is a good thing for a population like the Inuit on a traditional diet, because they’re swimming in free fatty acids and they aren’t able to produce ketones or eat enough carbohydrates for energy. Free fatty acids are everywhere. If you can use them more efficiently, you’ve got a great, reliable source of energy on demand.

Without a mutation like this one, the Inuit would likely be in permanent, deep ketosis. That can be hugely therapeutic in the right context. Ketones can prevent and treat epilepsy, for example. But what if there is a problem with long-term ketosis? Given the high-fat nature of their diet, this mutation is the only thing standing between a traditionally-eating Inuit and chronic, unavoidable ketosis. The rise of this mutation may have been a way to stave off that possibility.

In a roundabout way, ketone adaptation is a way for anyone not carrying the anti-ketotic genetic marker common among Inuit to obtain Inuit-type metabolism. Long term ketone adaptation leads to an increased ability of skeletal muscle to directly oxidize free fatty acids for energy; the Inuit with the mutation do that already.

That’s it for me. Thanks for reading, everyone. Be sure to help out below with your take on the questions and any advice you have for the people who asked them.

Have a great rest of the week!

[fishermariawo]

Dear Mark: Ketosis and HIIT, Keto After Menopause, Inuit and Ketosis?

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering a few questions from you folks. First, can a person maintain their high intensity interval training while starting a ketogenic diet? Is there anything you should watch out for? Second, is keto a good option for postmenopausal women? Though we don’t have any direct research on the subject, there is hope. And then we discuss the peculiar case of the Inuit and the missing ketones.

Let’s go:

First, Matt B asked:

I’d also like to know if HIIT workouts can be properly fueled during ketosis. My swimming coach is convinced that ketogenic diets are terrible for HIIT workouts and therefore advises against ketosis entirely.

As I said in last week’s post on keto caveats and contraindications, starting a ketogenic diet while in the midst of a season or when you’re about to start one probably isn’t advisable.

Here’s what you can do:

Once the season ends, go keto for at least six weeks. Try to stay in full-blown ketosis—low carbs, high fat, moderate protein—for those six weeks. Maintain your normal training schedule and realize that your performance will suffer for the first 3-4 weeks.

After those six weeks, incorporate carbs before or after intense training efforts. Note their effects. Do the carbs help your performance? Keep eating them, making sure to time them with your workouts. Do the carbs have no effect? You may not need them after all.

The season is a different story. You’ll probably need some carbs around your workouts and meets. If you still want to remain in ketosis, don’t worry too much; as long as you use the carbs you eat, they’ll go toward refilling your muscle glycogen stores without impacting your ketogenic status too much.

Luckily, the benefits of full blown ketone adaptation don’t just disappear. Your muscles will still be good at burning fatty acids and ketones. You’ll still have higher mitochondria density to produce more energy. And as long as you revisit ketosis on occasion, you should maintain most of the metabolic benefits.

Regarding keto, Louise asked:

Would you recommend it for perimenopausal/menopausal women?

That’s tough to answer based on the literature. There aren’t any dedicated ketogenic diet studies on post-menopausal women. Though what we have on low-carb diets, which are often ketogenic by accident, is quite positive.

For instance, post menopausal women on a low-carb, high-fat cheese-and-meat-based diet fared better than women on a low-fat, high-carb diet. Their blood lipids improved, including lower LDL particle numbers and higher HDL. There’s no word as to whether this was a ketogenic diet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they attained ketosis.

In another, post-menopausal breast cancer survivors were randomized to either a low-fat diet or a low-carb diet. Although average weight loss was similar in both groups, more individuals on the low-carb arm lost a greater percentage of their body weight.

A full-blown paleolithic diet is also quite good for post-menopausal women. In one study, going paleo helped post-menopausal women lose more body fat, more abdominal body fat, more inches on the waist, and achieve lower triglycerides.

As many of my commenters noted in the original post, the scientific community at large just doesn’t like to focus on post-menopausal women. Maybe it’s that the questions are too complex (hormones are complicated, especially when they change so rapidly). Maybe there’s not as much money behind it (youth sells—and I say this as someone in his 60s). Whatever the reason, it’s not right. Hopefully, we get more research coming down the pike. I think I’ll do a post on gender disparities in research, come to think of it. Stay tuned for that.

Still, I see no reason why a ketogenic diet wouldn’t help post-menopausal women.

My general advice for everyone stands: Try it out for a few weeks, see how you feel, and be honest with yourself. Don’t feel beholden to any dietary “regimen” or “ideology” (except, perhaps, “eat real food”) if it doesn’t work for you. Sure, quality matters. You can do a ketogenic diet wrong, so make sure you do it right. Don’t do a soybean oil/Splenda/cream cheese keto diet and complain about keto when it doesn’t work, but don’t do something even if it’s clearly not working for you just because someone you trust recommended it.

Melanie asked:

I would be interested to hear more – can you expand? What kind of mutation do the Inuit have and how does this prevent ketosis? Thanks you, Claudio!

The Inuit are an interesting bunch with regards to ketosis. Despite eating almost nothing but seafood and marine and land mammals and their fat, with negligible amounts of carbohydrates, the Inuit rarely show evidence of ketosis. A legitimate fast isn’t even enough to reliably produce ketosis in the Inuit. It turns out that many of them possess a gene variant that prevents ketosis and drops blood sugar during fasting and starvation.

Similar variants in other groups are considered deleterious. It can be fatal to infants and children without instant treatment. It’s rare in most populations, probably because it’s historically been such a knock on reproductive fitness. You want your toddler to be able to survive a day without food, after all.

Yet in the Inuit and other Arctic populations, these mutations are incredibly common. What’s going on here? Why was it preserved in the Inuit, let alone selected for?

First of all, the gene variant doesn’t seem to be deleterious in adult Inuit. A number of studies have shown that Inuit with the mutation tend to have less body fat and better blood lipids, though the mutation is still dangerous in kids and babies.

The mutation also makes it easier for carriers to burn free fatty acids in mitochondria. This is a good thing for a population like the Inuit on a traditional diet, because they’re swimming in free fatty acids and they aren’t able to produce ketones or eat enough carbohydrates for energy. Free fatty acids are everywhere. If you can use them more efficiently, you’ve got a great, reliable source of energy on demand.

Without a mutation like this one, the Inuit would likely be in permanent, deep ketosis. That can be hugely therapeutic in the right context. Ketones can prevent and treat epilepsy, for example. But what if there is a problem with long-term ketosis? Given the high-fat nature of their diet, this mutation is the only thing standing between a traditionally-eating Inuit and chronic, unavoidable ketosis. The rise of this mutation may have been a way to stave off that possibility.

In a roundabout way, ketone adaptation is a way for anyone not carrying the anti-ketotic genetic marker common among Inuit to obtain Inuit-type metabolism. Long term ketone adaptation leads to an increased ability of skeletal muscle to directly oxidize free fatty acids for energy; the Inuit with the mutation do that already.

That’s it for me. Thanks for reading, everyone. Be sure to help out below with your take on the questions and any advice you have for the people who asked them.

Have a great rest of the week!

[watsonrodriquezie]

Dear Mark: Ketosis and HIIT, Keto After Menopause, Inuit and Ketosis?

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering a few questions from you folks. First, can a person maintain their high intensity interval training while starting a ketogenic diet? Is there anything you should watch out for? Second, is keto a good option for postmenopausal women? Though we don’t have any direct research on the subject, there is hope. And then we discuss the peculiar case of the Inuit and the missing ketones.

Let’s go:

First, Matt B asked:

I’d also like to know if HIIT workouts can be properly fueled during ketosis. My swimming coach is convinced that ketogenic diets are terrible for HIIT workouts and therefore advises against ketosis entirely.

As I said in last week’s post on keto caveats and contraindications, starting a ketogenic diet while in the midst of a season or when you’re about to start one probably isn’t advisable.

Here’s what you can do:

Once the season ends, go keto for at least six weeks. Try to stay in full-blown ketosis—low carbs, high fat, moderate protein—for those six weeks. Maintain your normal training schedule and realize that your performance will suffer for the first 3-4 weeks.

After those six weeks, incorporate carbs before or after intense training efforts. Note their effects. Do the carbs help your performance? Keep eating them, making sure to time them with your workouts. Do the carbs have no effect? You may not need them after all.

The season is a different story. You’ll probably need some carbs around your workouts and meets. If you still want to remain in ketosis, don’t worry too much; as long as you use the carbs you eat, they’ll go toward refilling your muscle glycogen stores without impacting your ketogenic status too much.

Luckily, the benefits of full blown ketone adaptation don’t just disappear. Your muscles will still be good at burning fatty acids and ketones. You’ll still have higher mitochondria density to produce more energy. And as long as you revisit ketosis on occasion, you should maintain most of the metabolic benefits.

Regarding keto, Louise asked:

Would you recommend it for perimenopausal/menopausal women?

That’s tough to answer based on the literature. There aren’t any dedicated ketogenic diet studies on post-menopausal women. Though what we have on low-carb diets, which are often ketogenic by accident, is quite positive.

For instance, post menopausal women on a low-carb, high-fat cheese-and-meat-based diet fared better than women on a low-fat, high-carb diet. Their blood lipids improved, including lower LDL particle numbers and higher HDL. There’s no word as to whether this was a ketogenic diet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they attained ketosis.

In another, post-menopausal breast cancer survivors were randomized to either a low-fat diet or a low-carb diet. Although average weight loss was similar in both groups, more individuals on the low-carb arm lost a greater percentage of their body weight.

A full-blown paleolithic diet is also quite good for post-menopausal women. In one study, going paleo helped post-menopausal women lose more body fat, more abdominal body fat, more inches on the waist, and achieve lower triglycerides.

As many of my commenters noted in the original post, the scientific community at large just doesn’t like to focus on post-menopausal women. Maybe it’s that the questions are too complex (hormones are complicated, especially when they change so rapidly). Maybe there’s not as much money behind it (youth sells—and I say this as someone in his 60s). Whatever the reason, it’s not right. Hopefully, we get more research coming down the pike. I think I’ll do a post on gender disparities in research, come to think of it. Stay tuned for that.

Still, I see no reason why a ketogenic diet wouldn’t help post-menopausal women.

My general advice for everyone stands: Try it out for a few weeks, see how you feel, and be honest with yourself. Don’t feel beholden to any dietary “regimen” or “ideology” (except, perhaps, “eat real food”) if it doesn’t work for you. Sure, quality matters. You can do a ketogenic diet wrong, so make sure you do it right. Don’t do a soybean oil/Splenda/cream cheese keto diet and complain about keto when it doesn’t work, but don’t do something even if it’s clearly not working for you just because someone you trust recommended it.

Melanie asked:

I would be interested to hear more – can you expand? What kind of mutation do the Inuit have and how does this prevent ketosis? Thanks you, Claudio!

The Inuit are an interesting bunch with regards to ketosis. Despite eating almost nothing but seafood and marine and land mammals and their fat, with negligible amounts of carbohydrates, the Inuit rarely show evidence of ketosis. A legitimate fast isn’t even enough to reliably produce ketosis in the Inuit. It turns out that many of them possess a gene variant that prevents ketosis and drops blood sugar during fasting and starvation.

Similar variants in other groups are considered deleterious. It can be fatal to infants and children without instant treatment. It’s rare in most populations, probably because it’s historically been such a knock on reproductive fitness. You want your toddler to be able to survive a day without food, after all.

Yet in the Inuit and other Arctic populations, these mutations are incredibly common. What’s going on here? Why was it preserved in the Inuit, let alone selected for?

First of all, the gene variant doesn’t seem to be deleterious in adult Inuit. A number of studies have shown that Inuit with the mutation tend to have less body fat and better blood lipids, though the mutation is still dangerous in kids and babies.

The mutation also makes it easier for carriers to burn free fatty acids in mitochondria. This is a good thing for a population like the Inuit on a traditional diet, because they’re swimming in free fatty acids and they aren’t able to produce ketones or eat enough carbohydrates for energy. Free fatty acids are everywhere. If you can use them more efficiently, you’ve got a great, reliable source of energy on demand.

Without a mutation like this one, the Inuit would likely be in permanent, deep ketosis. That can be hugely therapeutic in the right context. Ketones can prevent and treat epilepsy, for example. But what if there is a problem with long-term ketosis? Given the high-fat nature of their diet, this mutation is the only thing standing between a traditionally-eating Inuit and chronic, unavoidable ketosis. The rise of this mutation may have been a way to stave off that possibility.

In a roundabout way, ketone adaptation is a way for anyone not carrying the anti-ketotic genetic marker common among Inuit to obtain Inuit-type metabolism. Long term ketone adaptation leads to an increased ability of skeletal muscle to directly oxidize free fatty acids for energy; the Inuit with the mutation do that already.

That’s it for me. Thanks for reading, everyone. Be sure to help out below with your take on the questions and any advice you have for the people who asked them.

Have a great rest of the week!

[cynthiamwashington]

Dear Mark: Ketosis and HIIT, Keto After Menopause, Inuit and Ketosis?

For today’s edition of Dear Mark, I’m answering a few questions from you folks. First, can a person maintain their high intensity interval training while starting a ketogenic diet? Is there anything you should watch out for? Second, is keto a good option for postmenopausal women? Though we don’t have any direct research on the subject, there is hope. And then we discuss the peculiar case of the Inuit and the missing ketones.

Let’s go:

First, Matt B asked:

I’d also like to know if HIIT workouts can be properly fueled during ketosis. My swimming coach is convinced that ketogenic diets are terrible for HIIT workouts and therefore advises against ketosis entirely.

As I said in last week’s post on keto caveats and contraindications, starting a ketogenic diet while in the midst of a season or when you’re about to start one probably isn’t advisable.

Here’s what you can do:

Once the season ends, go keto for at least six weeks. Try to stay in full-blown ketosis—low carbs, high fat, moderate protein—for those six weeks. Maintain your normal training schedule and realize that your performance will suffer for the first 3-4 weeks.

After those six weeks, incorporate carbs before or after intense training efforts. Note their effects. Do the carbs help your performance? Keep eating them, making sure to time them with your workouts. Do the carbs have no effect? You may not need them after all.

The season is a different story. You’ll probably need some carbs around your workouts and meets. If you still want to remain in ketosis, don’t worry too much; as long as you use the carbs you eat, they’ll go toward refilling your muscle glycogen stores without impacting your ketogenic status too much.

Luckily, the benefits of full blown ketone adaptation don’t just disappear. Your muscles will still be good at burning fatty acids and ketones. You’ll still have higher mitochondria density to produce more energy. And as long as you revisit ketosis on occasion, you should maintain most of the metabolic benefits.

Regarding keto, Louise asked:

Would you recommend it for perimenopausal/menopausal women?

That’s tough to answer based on the literature. There aren’t any dedicated ketogenic diet studies on post-menopausal women. Though what we have on low-carb diets, which are often ketogenic by accident, is quite positive.

For instance, post menopausal women on a low-carb, high-fat cheese-and-meat-based diet fared better than women on a low-fat, high-carb diet. Their blood lipids improved, including lower LDL particle numbers and higher HDL. There’s no word as to whether this was a ketogenic diet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they attained ketosis.

In another, post-menopausal breast cancer survivors were randomized to either a low-fat diet or a low-carb diet. Although average weight loss was similar in both groups, more individuals on the low-carb arm lost a greater percentage of their body weight.

A full-blown paleolithic diet is also quite good for post-menopausal women. In one study, going paleo helped post-menopausal women lose more body fat, more abdominal body fat, more inches on the waist, and achieve lower triglycerides.

As many of my commenters noted in the original post, the scientific community at large just doesn’t like to focus on post-menopausal women. Maybe it’s that the questions are too complex (hormones are complicated, especially when they change so rapidly). Maybe there’s not as much money behind it (youth sells—and I say this as someone in his 60s). Whatever the reason, it’s not right. Hopefully, we get more research coming down the pike. I think I’ll do a post on gender disparities in research, come to think of it. Stay tuned for that.

Still, I see no reason why a ketogenic diet wouldn’t help post-menopausal women.

My general advice for everyone stands: Try it out for a few weeks, see how you feel, and be honest with yourself. Don’t feel beholden to any dietary “regimen” or “ideology” (except, perhaps, “eat real food”) if it doesn’t work for you. Sure, quality matters. You can do a ketogenic diet wrong, so make sure you do it right. Don’t do a soybean oil/Splenda/cream cheese keto diet and complain about keto when it doesn’t work, but don’t do something even if it’s clearly not working for you just because someone you trust recommended it.

Melanie asked:

I would be interested to hear more – can you expand? What kind of mutation do the Inuit have and how does this prevent ketosis? Thanks you, Claudio!

The Inuit are an interesting bunch with regards to ketosis. Despite eating almost nothing but seafood and marine and land mammals and their fat, with negligible amounts of carbohydrates, the Inuit rarely show evidence of ketosis. A legitimate fast isn’t even enough to reliably produce ketosis in the Inuit. It turns out that many of them possess a gene variant that prevents ketosis and drops blood sugar during fasting and starvation.

Similar variants in other groups are considered deleterious. It can be fatal to infants and children without instant treatment. It’s rare in most populations, probably because it’s historically been such a knock on reproductive fitness. You want your toddler to be able to survive a day without food, after all.

Yet in the Inuit and other Arctic populations, these mutations are incredibly common. What’s going on here? Why was it preserved in the Inuit, let alone selected for?

First of all, the gene variant doesn’t seem to be deleterious in adult Inuit. A number of studies have shown that Inuit with the mutation tend to have less body fat and better blood lipids, though the mutation is still dangerous in kids and babies.

The mutation also makes it easier for carriers to burn free fatty acids in mitochondria. This is a good thing for a population like the Inuit on a traditional diet, because they’re swimming in free fatty acids and they aren’t able to produce ketones or eat enough carbohydrates for energy. Free fatty acids are everywhere. If you can use them more efficiently, you’ve got a great, reliable source of energy on demand.

Without a mutation like this one, the Inuit would likely be in permanent, deep ketosis. That can be hugely therapeutic in the right context. Ketones can prevent and treat epilepsy, for example. But what if there is a problem with long-term ketosis? Given the high-fat nature of their diet, this mutation is the only thing standing between a traditionally-eating Inuit and chronic, unavoidable ketosis. The rise of this mutation may have been a way to stave off that possibility.

In a roundabout way, ketone adaptation is a way for anyone not carrying the anti-ketotic genetic marker common among Inuit to obtain Inuit-type metabolism. Long term ketone adaptation leads to an increased ability of skeletal muscle to directly oxidize free fatty acids for energy; the Inuit with the mutation do that already.

That’s it for me. Thanks for reading, everyone. Be sure to help out below with your take on the questions and any advice you have for the people who asked them.

Have a great rest of the week!

The post Dear Mark: Ketosis and HIIT, Keto After Menopause, Inuit and Ketosis? appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

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